Star Wars CLOSED Knights of the Last Republic

IC: Leonias Colcha
Entering Orbit of Bunduki, aboard the Silver Beacon

"Leonias, multiple vectors approaching on an intercept course.. 12 to be exact. Sensor analysis conducted by Pro-Bono concludes with 95% certainty that they are Sienar-Jaemus Fleet Systems TIE/sf space superiority fighters." chimed in Beacon over the telepathic link with Leonias.

"Thank you beacon," replied Leonias, "Alright, lets meld. Time to mess with their heads."

Leonias focused his mind upon the cluster of kyber crystals powering the Force Sensitive entity onboard his ship known as Beacon, and upon their telepathic connection in order to combine their minds and their mental capabilities together. As he completed, he activated manual controls and took hold of the flight yoke, working on the start of a maneuver.

As Leonias banked towards the left, he reached into the minds of all twenty four pilots at once, and altered what they really saw him do, with illusions. Slightly different for each pilot, to add to the confusion, but none of them would see the truth.

So as he came to the apex of his banking turn, he dove in for an attack run on a confused pair of First Order Pilots in a doomed fighter, ion cannons frying the shields and solar ionization cannons sending bolts of energy melting away the hull.

As the ship detonated, he released his illusion, and very soon the chase continued, Leonias hoping he had convinced them to maintain or even increase their pursuit.

Tag: @Sinrebirth , @The Real Kyp Durron , @TheSilentInfluence , @greyjedi125

 

Ic Kyp Durron
Bunduki City Limits, The Hideout

A Jedi looking woman quietly said Ben had been her friend. He was no ones friend now. She then stated she'd not endanger his family. "Thank you." he said quietly, not moving from his position.

He listened further. Biting his bottom lip for a second he made a decision. A docking bay? He gave a slow nod. "I can show you somewhere to repair a ship, and I'll assist you in doing so." The sooner they were away from him the better in his mind. He did not want to get himself captured. He would not risk anyone finding Addie, Jesse or Nicci.




Tag @Sinrebirth @greyjedi125 @Kev-Mas_Colcha @TheSilentInfluence

 

IC: Kev-Mas Colcha
Skirmish in orbit, Bunduki

"Leonias," warned Beacon, "The Star Destroyer has opened fire, and dare I say it, but... I sense a disturbance in the Force."

"Yes," replied Leonias as he took evasive maneuvers, dodging the turbolaser fire effortlessly as if he could see it coming before it did, "That complicates things. There's someone onboard giving orders who resonates very strongly with the Dark Side. Though that much should be obvious with their tactics."

"Shouldn't we shrink our presence?" asked Beacon, "If there's a Force user on that Star Destroyer they can track our movements even with our stealth systems."

"No. That's all part of the plan. If they don't know where we are, we can't lure them out. Activate stealth systems but we'll keep our Force presence visible. Slow them down but don't completely blind them. I'll clear an opening so we can jump to the edge of the system."

As the stealth countermeasures began to activate on the small fighter, scrambling any incoming sensor pings, disabling the running lights and the Reflec hull coating working its magic, Leonias' head turned downwards deep in concentration.

As he channeled the Force, the Force replied. In a way that the Chagrian onboard that Star Destroyer would know way too well. His precious Dark Side of the Force. Turned against him in a horrific manner.

An ability for which the knowledge was passed down to Leonias by his father, Kev-Mas Colcha, who learned it from Emperor Palpatine himself in service as one of his hands.

A large hyperspace wormhole burst forth behind Leonias' fighter, crackling with electricity to an intense degree, tearing apart the pursuing TIE Fighters as if they were paper going through a shredder, wreaking havoc with sensor readings and threatening to tear apart the 3 kilometer war ship in pursuit unless it didn't immediately halt.

It only happened for a mere 5 seconds, using up all the energy Leonias had to call upon the Force, even with the significant boost granted to him by the meld. However, it was enough.

By the time the storm had cleared, Pro-Bono had already finished calculating the hyperspace jump. Pulling the lever, the Silver Beacon made his short jump to the far reaches of the system. Wyyrlok would know where he went, but hopefully it would be too late by the time he caught up with him. Leonias was staying in system for a reason, after all.

He wasn't done with them yet.

Tag: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Ashban
Bundiki City Limits, The Hideout

He could feel them. The Stormtroopers, approaching closer and closer. They brought fear with them, as the citizenry reacted to their presence. Ashban could feel a sense of urgency, but also caution. He’d have to watch out for the TIE fighters swarming overhead, but there was something else. A disturbance in the Force.

“Trust all your senses, Miraluka.”

Ashban nodded at Vergere’s words before responding. “I will.” He answered. He absently became aware that she had referred to him as a Miraluka, even though that was his present guise. He reasoned that she’d been simply playing along with his ruse. There were far more critical matters at hand.

He made to leave just then, but suddenly paused. Looking back at Kyp, he said in a serious tone: “Help them.” He said firmly. “Doing so will aid your cause.”

Certainly you can see that.

Without saying another word, Ashban was gone.

****

The former Jedi left the complex through a different series of corridors from those used to reach his apartment. He moved at a swift pace, even as he passed some of the populace that were already fleeing to safer ground. While moving through the market, he grabbed several reflective squares and pocketed them. These would come in handy.

Once he reached outside, he could hear the screech of TIE fighters as they passed above, but was glad that the Dust Storm was blowing unabated. He took a mere moment to triangulate the stormtroopers in the force and made haste to move outside their perimeter, keeping to their backs.

Ashban stealthfully moved behind an obscured cluster of rocks on a small hill and listened to any comm chatter. Certainly their inter-patrol communications would reveal something. Where were they going? What were they looking for?

'Are you going to kill them? Yessss, of course you are. They serve it.' Came the internal voice of the other.

Ashban was glad for the sound of the dust storm muffling out his words just then.

“Quiet.” He commanded.

He could sense a pair of Stormtroopers nearing his position. A small gesture, and his unlit lightsaber fell to his hand. With his free hand, he prepared to deprive one of them of air, while he remained unseen.



Tag: @Sinrebirth, @The Real Kyp Durron, @TheSilentInfluence

 

Ic Kyp Durron

The Hideout.



Kyp turned slowly to look at the Fosh. "I did say I'd assist." He drawled as he raised an eyebrow holding her gaze. "Trust me, I want you gone as much as you want to be gone." He turned to the group, "Where is this ship and can it be moved on its own?" Two vital questions in his mind, he wasn't up for pushing a dead ship. "I'll take you when you tell me that." He was giving nothing away. He'd been hiding too long to allow them to betray his presence.

One was leaving, and then almost ordered him to help. He scowled. 'Were they all deaf?' he wondered and rolled his eyes.



Tag @Sinrebirth @greyjedi125 @TheSilentInfluence

 

IC: Eleanor Magnus
The Hideout

The First Order won't stop until they have me as their prisoner. Eleanor thought to herself, allowing her gaze to drop as their new friend left to distract the First Order Troops. Good luck. Eleanor thought, trying to calm how anxious she was feeling.

"We need more then just one ship to fight Ben." Eleanor pointed out quietly. "As soon as we start moving he'll be able to sense me."

Just like he found me when I first came to the Jedi Temple.

Tag: @Sinrebirth @greyjedi125 @Kev-Mas_Colcha @The Real Kyp Durron

 

IC: Ashban
Bunduki, Edge of the City

He’d sensed the surrounding Stormtrooper complement, it numbered just about twenty or so of them. They were splitting into smaller groups. To his dismay, there was no revealing tell-tale comm chatter to speak of, so it was harder for him to determine their exact plans or detachment composition.

Still undetected by the enemy, the blind man was about to engage the two Stormtrooper’s closest to him, when the Force suddenly blared a warning! By sheer reflex, Ashban moved to one side just in time, as a blaster bolt blazed past the spot where his head had been.

A chilling wave thrummed through the Force. Something dark was coming.

Ashban felt their focus; the Stormtrooper’s were suddenly and inexplicably aware of him. His lightsaber flared to life just then, its orange blade ignited like a flame and was raised just in time to deflect a second blaster bolt back to whence it came. Marksmen did not like to miss by such a small margin, and were therefore predictable as far as that. With his free hand, Ashban gestured nimbly, and with an exertion in the Force, caused the two trigger happy troopers to face each other the very moment they opened fire.

Their violent natures would do the rest.

Well, at least he had their attention now, but something felt wrong, very wrong.

Without any warning or explanation, the Dust Storm that was to serve as his cover had suddenly ceased, a fact that left him very open and very vulnerable if he remained in one spot. Not waiting to be peppered by a barrage of blaster fire, Ashban quickly moved behind the cluster of rocks he had been standing next to, he crouched low, and extinguished his lightsaber.

'Fool! What are you doing? Kill them, kill them now.’ cried the other voice, which he simply ignored despite feeling a growing sense of irritation.

Thankfully, the immediate air-space was clear of TIE fighters for the moment, but that wouldn’t last for long. Ashban knew the Jet Trooper would keep his distance while rounding the corner for a clear shot. Ashban knew the area better than the troopers and could use that knowledge to his advantage, at least somewhat. With another simple hand gesture, he called on the Force to swiftly cause a nearby abandoned tarp to fly through the air and wrap itself around the Jet Trooper.

*snort*

Without waiting for results, Ashban used Force Speed to ambush the next group, his lightsaber igniting once again.

Engaging them in close combat was likely to reduce ‘friendly’ fire among their own numbers - in theory anyway. Not only did he have to keep them busy and away from the others, he also had to figure out who was leading the ground patrol before the situation grew more dire.

'Stop thinking like a Jedi. You are not a Jedi. You have not been one for a very long time. I am NO jedi. Let go! Release your anger! You know you want to, don’t you…?

'Force guide me’ Ashban thought, forcing himself to remain centered, even as he caused a localized Dust Explosion meant to disorient the troopers, then slashed at their weapons with undiminished celerity.



Tag: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Leonias Colcha
Edge of the system

"Ah good," replied Leonias, "By the way, protecting the equilibrium of the Galaxy is key to the Sun Guard ethos established by my father. The preservation of the Jedi is key to that. If he were here today he would have ordered me to do exactly what I am doing."

Just then, three ships appeared in system, which appeared as just one two kilometer long warship on the First Order's scopes, which immediately begun scrambling their targeting systems and forcing them to focus any weapons fire on them. The ship, although nearly 1 kilometer shorter than the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer was still large enough to be a barrier for escape, and the First Order warship would have to get around it in order to make the jump to hyperspace.

Leonias immediately pulled on the throttle and began heading towards the hangar bay of the Sun Guard Star Destroyer as 9 squadrons of fighters of various types began pouring out. He needed his rest, and the reinforcements had managed to get there right on schedule to provide it.

IC: Nashi'raen'Inroiki
Duellator-class Star Destroyer, The Red Flame Edge of the system

Nashi'raen'Inroiki, known in the core as Hiraeni, stood aboard the bridge of the Sun Guard warship, his piercing red eyes illuminating his visage as he ran a hand through his slick black hair. The dim running lights on the bridge barely illuminated his vibrant blue skin, which reflected upon the bulkheads with a reflection of dark indigo.

He walked up to get a closer view of the viewscreen as his tyrian purple hued cape flowed behind him and a cylindrical shaped object hanging from his belt bobbed to and fro against his thighs.

"Open a channel to the First Order warship," he ordered to the crew working behind him, but taking his eyes away from the screen.

"Aye sir," replied a crewman in similar armor, albeit lacking the cape that indicated officer status.

The tone of Hiraeni's voice was stern and chilling, and a less experienced commander might be compelled to give in from sheer intimidation.

"This is Thychani Dictator Nashi'raen'Inroiki of the Sun Guard Armada. You are to stand down immediately or face destruction. This is your one and final warning."

Tag: @Sinrebirth
OOC: Both Leonias and the Hiraeni's (he's a limited use support character; see the resource thread for more info) actions take place at the same time. No orders were needed to deploy fighters as standard protocol for a Duellator-class Star Destroyer is to deploy all 9 squadrons of fighters when they arrive on the edge of a system they were called in to provide reinforcements at, unless ordered not to.

 

Combo with @Sinrebirth

IC: Octa Ramis
Thirteen years ago, on Ossus

It was time to move forward, and select a Padawan. The Yuuzhan Vong War was over, and the Galactic Alliance had settled down. Newly made a Master, she needed to contribute towards the Order and finalise the wound in her heart; the one from the death of her love Miko, and the loss of her friend, Daeshara'cor.

Octa intended to take a new one from among the newest students. The latest arrivals were here, though it was expected that the students would transfer to the new school led by Luke for orientation. Even in retirement, he sought to be useful, though he would not take another apprentice of his own, nor even sit on the Council.

The gaggle of students was arriving on the unmarked shuttle, with Zekk flying. Octa nodded at that; the lanky Jedi was more than capable of escorting students to their new Academy on Ossus.

Eleanor was scared. Completely and utterly terrified. Yes; she had agreed to come to the Jedi Temple. Her parents encouraged her even, but she stayed close to the other children as they disembarked the ramp, eyes looking around like a scared rabbit as she tried to force away any nervousness.

Eleanor wanted to learn how to become a Jedi. But what about the Mandalorian heritage and ways mom and dad taught me. She stepped away slight from the crowd as they stopped at the bottom of the ramp, unsure about what would happen next.

Eleanor could sense very vaguely someone coming up behind her. Ste turned and jumped a little, only to realise it was the sullen young man from the ship. She frowned at him, only slightly; but felt her lip quiver right after. I'm so far away from home.

Eleanor wiped her eyes and muttered a small, "Sorry." At the young man. She turned away and stared hard at the ground, not wanting any more tears to fall.

He seemed to be startled from his reverie, and Octa wondered whether Ben would snap at the girl. Instead, he seemed to soften, seeing something in her panicked face. He lifted a hand to her, placing it on her upper arm softly. “No harm, little one.”

Ben looked around, at the milling children, Octa being sure to stay out of his sight; it was a rare moment where the fourth Solo child was actually being, well, ordinary. “I’m Ben.”

And an introduction, too?

Eleanor looked back up at him when he gently touched her arm and took a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm Eleanor Magnus." She replied and gave Ben a small smile. Eleanor look around and seemed to still be unsure of everything going on. "This place feels so different from home. There's so many people-" She frowned and tried to use the force to get a read on anything, but found things muddled.

Ben smiled. "Very different. The Jedi Order is above the differences between species; we don't discriminate between such things, and indeed have no homeworld. The Force is home, which is nice, I've been told - because to be a Jedi is to be forever at one and home in the Force."

He felt her little gestures into the Force, and he took her mental hands softly in his in a here, like this, guiding her between the confusion to the synchronicity that fell between everyone; the patterns that birthed all the muddle.

Octa continued to pretend focus upon the other students, carolling them as if a herd.

"There you go," Ben said. "Better?"

Eleanor felt herself relax as a calming wave gestured through the force. She focused as Ben guided her invisible hands and found that she was able to start distinguishing between different force signatures.

"Who taught you how to do that?" Eleanor asked, amazed.

Ben smiled. "My uncle; Master Skywalker. We had a couple of years where just the two of us wandered the galaxy, until his son and wife joined us." His countenance grew darker. Not that that had lasted all that long.

Octa sensed the shift, and sympathised. Ben was the youngest of the four Solo children and, in her view, had been short-changed. The boy had lost out, isolated from his siblings to avoid Imperial kidnappers, then too young to fight in the Yuuzhan Vong War, not until after Anakin had died, but then he had joined the war at its edges, and narrowly avoided being put with the other children in the Maw. Leia had protected Ben too much, and asked Luke to tutor him one-on-one while she returned to the Senate... but how much that could happen around his other responsibilities?

Ben seemed lost in his frustrations for a moment, but Eleanor would sense it.

Eleanor sensed the shift in Ben's mood and looked uncomfortable,, but she didn't step away. "If you're Uncle Master Skywaller, doesn't that mean you're mother is Senator Organa?" Eleanor tried to keep her excitement in check. "She's my hero." Eleanor blurted out, before she blushed with embarrassment.

I think everyone just heard me.

"Ben?" Eleanor gently tapped him on the arm. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Her voice was gentle, still sensing he was angry.

His focus shifted. "Yes," Ben said, looking down at her. "Yes, my mother is Senator Organa Solo. She is a hero," his voice grew sarcastic, but Octa doubted the child would realise. "With my older siblings, Jaina and Jacen Solo... and Anakin."

Ben hadn't heard her question, looking at and yet through her.

Eleanor looked excited. "Could you introduce us? I mean, can I meet you're mother?" She was smiling up in Ben before realising he looked lost in thought, she looked around; wondering just how often he does that on a day to day basis, and seeing if anyone else knew what to do to keep his attention.

At Ben’s mention of Anakin - who died in the Yuuzhan Vong War - and his older siblings, who Octa knew Ben was jealous of, she stepped forward, through the crowd of panicked youths, now being collected by Masters Solusar - Kam and Tionne.

“Ben,” Octa said politely, before dropping to her haunches in front of the girl. “And you’re Eleanor, yes?” Her voice softened, as much to assure Eleanor as ensure Ben knew Octa wasn’t babying the teenager.

“I’m Master Ramis.”

Eleanor stepped back a bit at the Jedi Master kneeling in front of her and smiled a little. "It's nice to meet you Master Ramis." Eleanor said politely. She looked at her curiously, but felt shy; unsure of what to say next

"And you, youngling." Octa looked up at Ben. "Master Skywalker is looking for you, Apprentice Solo. I saw him last in the Council chamber."

Ben looked at Octa quizzically, as if only just noticing the Jedi Master, so deep was he in his brooding. "Thank you, Master Ramis." He smiled at Eleanor. "Later."

With that, he was gone. Octa watched him go and paused. "Eleanor, did you know that most people do not realise that Leia Organa has four children? How do you think that would make Ben feel, to be unknown?"

"Bye Ben!" Eleanor smiled back at him. She gave a little wave and watched him go, turning to look at Master Ramis as she asked her question.

"No. I didn't know Master." Eleanor looked troubled, then thoughtful. "I think it would make him feel sad Master. Left out; forgotten. When I lived on Dantooine there are these creatures called Kinrath. Most people forgot about them because they guarded a cave near the old Jedi Temple. When they saw them, they were scared because they didn't know them; they forgot that they had a place there too." She frowned slightly. "I used to go and talk to them so they wouldn't feel like they were a burden. Their my friends."

Eleanor thought for a moment. "Ben feels forgotten. Like a shadow following his family. Do you think he would let me help him Master?"

Octa smiled at the innocence of the young child. “I am sure you could...” she paused, tapping her chin in an exaggerated fashion. “But could I teach you how best to help him, if you want?”

“We’d have to make it a formal deal, though, what do you think?” Octa has decided on her first Padawan, it looked like.

"Does that mean I'd get to be you're Padawan?" Eleanor asked, she smiled a little. Master Ramis seemed nice. "How would we make a formal deal?"

“By you accepting my request,” Octa said, pleased by her sunny disposition. “Do you accept, maybe Padawan?”

"I accept Master!" Eleanor smiled at Master Ramis before she threw her arms around her in a hug. She stepped away and added, "I hope I can make you proud."


Tag: @Sinrebirth @greyjedi125 @The Real Kyp Durron

OOC: Little bit of a flashback to when Eleanor first met Ben and came to the Jedi Temple with our wonderful GM. I can make another post calling Whistler back if I need to.

 

Ic Kyp Durron
City Hidden


"Did you connect with the local Force users while you were hiding? The Followers of Palawa? We may need more help than I realised."

Kyp regarded Fosh woman for a moment. "No, I did not. Staying hidden was my prime objective and making contact wouldn't have been prudent." he said in an even cool tone. There was something about this female that had him on edge. He did not know what. Around he felt the Force ripple with darkness. There was an overtone of annoyance tinging it. Someone was not happy. The Fosh left without another word and he could feel the distraction was working. He turned to the young woman. "Eleanor was it?" He scanned the area and reached under his ancient looking poncho to reveal his lightsaber. The last thing he wanted was to be found or recognised, but he was being left little choice. "Where's your ship? We might have to do this the hard way."





Tag @TheSilentInfluence @Sinrebirth

 

OOC: This is gonna be a long one and possibly a confusing one, featuring all of the support characters I have so bear with me.

IC: Leonias Colcha
Silver Beacon, Hangar Bay, Duellator-class Star Destroyer, The Red Flame

"To quote my father," replied Leonias to Beacon through their telepathic link. "Light? Dark? The suns rise and set every day like clockwork. It's unnatural for such a conflict to exist but our collective prejudices and ignorance has caused that exact abberation."

"There are no good guys," he continued as the ship landed inside the hangar bay and he unstrapped himself from the chair, "Nor are there bad guys. Just those who threaten to destroy the very equilibrium that brings order to the Galaxy, and those who seek to protect it. We're protectors, and no lies from the mouth of a tyrant can change that. Now, if you don't mind, I have some meditation to catch up on. I have a feeling I may be needed in the battlefields of Bunduki sooner than later, and I must be prepared."

Leonias disembarked from his small fighter and then slowly made his way to the Supreme Sun Guardian's quarters on the ship, much too exhausted to move any faster.

IC: Nashi'raen'Inroiki
Bridge, Duellator-class Star Destroyer, The Red Flame

"Upon the first hand intelligence gathered by the Supreme Sun Guardian, which disproves your lies," came the reply from the Chiss Sun Guard, voice cold with pretense and venom, "Forgive me, but I would rather trust our leader than some random captain onboard a ship belonging to a military junta of Imperial pretenders. I have no record of a First Order claim of this system or world in any official database either, therefore your presence here is in violation of the sovereignty of this independent system. You will be eradicated to preserve the equilibrium of the Galaxy."

He gave a motion with his hands to one of the crewmen, and the transmission was cut.

"How is the dragonscale shielding handling?"

"It's at peak efficiency sir, all generators are reporting one hundred percent power output."

"Good. Fire all weapons at that Star Destroyer. Today the First Order shall witness the might of the Sun Guard."

As he said that, all the weapons the ship had to bear fired upon the Resurgent-class in front of them. Eight octuple barbette capital grade solar ionization cannons, four octuple barbette ion cannons, fifty heavy capital grade solar ionization cannon batteries, one hundred heavy capital grade solar ionization cannons, one hundred heavy rapid-fire gauss cannons and forty heavy ion cannons. All roaring to life in a brilliant crescendo of destructive force, raining down upon the First Order ship in front of them.

IC: Tadano Nasan
Bridge, Wraith-class Corvette, Scion

Upon first glance, Tadano looks as if he might be a human, perhaps in his late thirties, except for the white hair and piercing silver eyes giving away the fact that he indeed was an Echani, and one far older than he might appear. His skin is a fair bit darker than that of a normal Echani, due to years spent under the suns of Thyrsus, away from his much more dark and frigid homeland of Eshan. He wore the standard armor of a Sun Guard, though it was colored silver rather than black, hearkening back to his Echani heritage and homeland, which he had not forgotten despite his new allegiance.

A bemused look fell upon his face as he noticed The Red Flame opening fire. He raised a hand to brush aside a strand of his long silver hair from his face and gave an order.

"Looks like it's time to reveal ourselves. Support formation black."

IC: Aesen Temeritus
Bridge, Wraith-class Corvette, Invictus

Aesen Temeritus appeared to be the very picture of a model Thyrsian, if there even was such a thing. Short curly black hair, charcoal black skin and beady black eyes. He was clean shaven, and appeared to be young, like the equivalent of a 20 year old human, but the way he moved about the bridge and held himself revealed that he was probably closer to 50 than 20. He wore the standard black Sun Guard armor, kept as traditional and to the original roots as he was.

As he noticed The Red Flame opening fire, he clanged his solar pike down on the deck and let out a hearty chuckle.

"Well, let's not let them have all the fun, shall we? Support formation black."

IC: Sun Guard Fleet
Edge of Bunduki system

Shortly after The Red Flame began firing upon the First Order Star Destroyer, the two Wraith-class Corvettes moved into what was called support formation black. What was that exactly?

Well, the two 200 meter long ships, hidden from view by their stealth systems moved to surround the three kilometer long First Order ship's flank, making sure to move close enough to make it difficult for the gunners on the Star Destroyer to target them once they were revealed.

Then, the ships disengaged their stealth systems, launched their Solar Dragon-class Interceptor Squadrons from the linear catapults, engaged dragonscale shielding and began to fire weapons, all within a brief thirty second window.

Meanwhile, the three squadrons of Solar Dragon-class Interceptors from The Red Flame began to run a defensive screen for enemy fighters, while the three squadrons of Petramar-class Assault Bombers from the same ship began to move in for bombing runs against the large First Order behemoth of a vessel.

Had Dorja possessed the intelligence on the Sun Guard that he lacked, he would have realized that one variable was missing however: The three Spec Ops Solar Dragon-class Interceptor squadrons, all piloted by Force Using Sun Guard, were mysteriously missing from action.

That's because their target was somewhere else.

Their target was the planet's surface, which they were moving in to approach, hidden with their stealth systems and standard rudimentary training in the Art of the Small, so they could provide well needed lightsaber wielding ground reinforcements.

Tag: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Ashban
Defending Bunduki

The Force billowed, churned and spiked as conflict continued to grow and intensify all around.

“Part!”

It was all Ashban needed to hear as his target revealed himself once the other troopers obeyed.

This one was issuing orders and was therefore their immediate superior.

The Riot Trooper had just barely defended himself against his lightsaber strikes with his electrostaff and backed away out of his attack range, a tactic that favored them both. The Flame Trooper fired a stream of fire at the blind man as he moved away; Ashban subtly employed tutaminis to dissipate what flames actually reached him corporeally.

His target, the Leading Officer, fired a blaster bolt from his pistol at the blind force-user, who keenly deflected it back at him. In that same instance, Ashban employed the force to snatch the weapon from the officer’s hand, fully intent on disarming him, as he once again used force speed to move behind him. In a blink, the orange lightsaber would be at the man’s neck buzzing menacingly.

Ashban was a survivor of many grueling Jedi campaigns in the Outer Rim and beyond. He was a hardened combatant, and had no doubts that these men probably were as well, that’s why he did not let down his guard, though his voice now sounded strained. Above all, he remained alert.

In the Force, he could sense that the bird woman was in trouble, but found himself unable to render assistance.

“Tell your men to stand down - or your life is forfeit.” He intoned into the man’s ear, trying to keep the malice in his voice to a minimum. Inwardly, he would not be surprised if they all attempted to gun them both down where they stood- which was an option he was ready to deal with. Ashban tried not to think of it; How easily the galaxy’s peace-keepers were betrayed by their trooper 'allies’, who blindly followed orders regardless of what relationship or bonds were formed during their joint campaigns. Those stories were well documented and passed down.

To their saving credit, he also learned that there had been exceptions, too few, but exceptions just the same.

“You have four seconds.”

“Three…”


Tag: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Leonias Colcha
Supreme Sun Guardian's Quarters, Duellator-class Star Destroyer, The Red Flame

"Supreme Sun Guardian Colcha," came Hiraeni's voice over the intercom inside the spacious quarters where Leonias sat in meditation, "The enemy appears to be retreating, shall we begin pursuit?"

"Divert all weapons fire to the ion cannons. I want their shields and engines disabled so we can begin boarding operations. Primary objective is to capture the ship, secondary objective is sabotage, programming the ship to return to the First Order with a virus that will spread through their private comm channels. Tertiary objective would be to destroy it from within."

"Understood," replied the Chiss, "It shall be done."

Leonias then rose from his meditation, satisfied that he had sufficiently recovered his strength for yet another battle, and left his quarters, making his way back to the hangar.

"Beacon," he said over his telepathic connection, "Initiate startup sequence. We've got some drop pods to defend, and I've got a ship to board."

IC: Sun Guard Fleet
Edge of Bunduki system

When the fighters began to attack the corvettes, they were ready. Point-defense rapid-fire gauss cannons sprung into action, immediately targeting them with high efficiency. As ordered, The Red Flame funneled all weapons power to the ion cannons and immediately began focusing empowered bursts of ionic energy aimed at the shield generators and engines of the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer, aiming to disable it to initiate boarding operations.

Meanwhile, the Force Sensitive pilots of the three squadrons of Spec Ops Solar Dragon-class Interceptors noticed what was going on with the the retreating TIEs, and split up into two groups, with one and a half squadrons each, forming two separate mind melds for each group. One group continued towards the ground to deploy there, and the other gave chase to the retreating TIEs, hoping to not only eliminate them, but catch up to the retreating Star Destroyer to join in with the boarding operations that were planned from the very beginning in the event that they forced a retreat.

If there is one tactical strength the Sun Guard have over the other military forces in the Galaxy, it's not only the inclusion of Force Users in their ranks, but also their foresight and planning abilities. After all, prophecy is a huge part of Thyrsian culture. They have contingencies planned for nearly every outcome, seeing them all as equally likely inevitabilities. Even defeat.

IC: Thychani Commander Sha Mu'orca
Drop Pod Launch Bay, Duellator-class Star Destroyer, The Red Flame

The sole remaining Force Sensitive Sun Guard save for Leonias and Hiraeni onboard The Red Flame, the Herglic in charge of commanding the troops to be used in the boarding operation, Sha Mu'orca, began to address the troops for the boarding operation, which was half a legion in number. He was a pretty typical looking Herglic, save for the oversized Sun Guard armor he was wearing, which included a cape indicating his officer status, colored white. He clanged a large two meter tall stave against the deck as he walked, which if one was familiar with that sort of thing they could only assume that it was a deactivated saber pike, albeit a larger one, designed to fit the very large individual wielding it.

He paced in front of the five hundred Sun Guard, gathered in front of the 50 Solar Pike-class Drop Pods they would be using for insertion into the First Order Star Destroyer. Quite literally, actually, as these drop pods were designed to cut into the hull of an enemy ship and deploy troops directly inside of it, reminiscent to a tactic used by the Confederacy of Independent Systems during the Clone Wars to deploy Battle Droids directly inside enemy Republic ships.

"Alright Sun Guard. Today, we fight a new enemy face to face," he spoke, giving a raucous motivational speech in his deep voice that sounded exactly how he looked, "This enemy is one we've been itching for a fight with for far too long, and now we finally get our chance. It's time to show them our might, and take one of their ships. If not that, we send it back with a message they won't forget. Then if not that, we blow it up!"

The half legion of Sun Guard cheered.

"You know the drill, you've been trained for all of these operations for years and some of you have lived through them in our campaigns in Wild Space. Go make the final preparations for your launch, the enemy's shields will be disabled shortly."

Tag: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Ashban
Defending Bunduki

Something strange and unexpected happened, a shift he did not anticipate. It was announced by the enemy’s comm-chatter. No explanation given.

“Full retreat.”

Then he felt their intention like a punch to his gut. These troopers. They were not going to surrender. They would choose the fall of the prideful; oblivion over light.

Before he even finished his countdown, before the officer spoke a word, shots were already being fired. Ashban predicted these men of war would choose the path of violence, but hoped they would be strong enough to make a different choice.

No such luck.

“For the First Order!”

The blind ex-Jedi could see them all in the force, their auras, their intent. In an instant, he called on his knowledge of Force Valor, increasing his reflexes and accuracy. He gripped the officer telekinetically, rendering him immobile, therefore turning him into a ‘man-sized shield’ for his back. Nimbly, he turned, giving his back and the officer to the Flame Trooper’s fiery assault, even as he redirected a barrage of blaster bolts towards the Riot Troopers.

Ashban released the immolated officer as he continued to move at a rate of speed just outside the Trooper’s ability to track. The Trooper previously enveloped by the tarp would find himself once again in the same conundrum, but this time completely wrapped-up.

Ashban was sorely tempted, as flashes of Jedi being cowardly shot in the back by Clone Troopers flashed through his mind. No! He couldn’t afford to go down that path. He had to....

'Kill them, kill them all…just like they killed us!’

The orange lightsaber flashed again and again, tracing deadly arcs, severing limbs instead of heads, returning blaster bolts with deadly accuracy. This was a spectacle unseen in an age.

'When did a call for retreat become a call for a suicide run?' He wondered somberly.

A gesture, and the Flame Troopers’ line to the tank on their backs became unplugged. Another gesture caused the handle of the Z6 Riot Batons to come unhinged.

“You've all been abandoned by your Leaders. If you continue this conflict, you will surely die a pointless death; is that what you truly want? Flee while you can.”

Ashban declared sternly while he was still in control.

“Hurry!” He commanded them.

He could ignore the blast score to his side for only so long.


Tag: @Sinrebirth

 

Ic Kyp Durron
Facing Troopers


Internally he was in conflict. Kyp had spent too much time being hidden to be standing out in the open holding his weapon. The same weapon he’d not activated in months if not longer. He had no choice now, he had to act. Around him the Force swirled with aggression and conflict, mixed with fear and terror. He hated these feelings. Before him six troopers were taking up position to fire. He had no choice now and lifted his blade to defend not only himself but the wounded woman nearby. The troopers opened fire and despite no use in many months his training was deeply ingrained as the blade flicked to life. A deep purple blur whipped back and forward, up and down as bolts were deflected back at their source. It was clear the Troopers did not realise they were facing a Jedi Master and four hit the ground dead before they’d understood their mistake. The final two stopped firing as Kyp lowered his blade. “You’re alone here, there will be no back up for you. Run now, or die. It’s your call.” He said in a deep clear voice. He hoped they’d turn and run as self-preservation kicked in. He did not wish to take any more lives today. They were hesitating and speaking quietly to each other. “RUN!” he yelled. “I’m not waiting any longer!” he began to walk toward them holding his rich purple blade aloft. The Troopers looked to each other before dropping their weapons, turning and doing as he ordered. Reaching where they’d been standing, he checked the other Troopers had been dispatched before gathering their weapons together and destroying him with his Lightsaber. He would not leave weapons for others to take up. He turned and returned to Eleanor. “What now? Does your ship still need repairs because if it does I need it done fast. If not, I want to go back to hiding if you don’t mind. There’s more at stake for me at this point and I will not risk it further.”




Tag @TheSilentInfluence @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Eleanor Magnus
Bunduki, City

Eleanor was aware of a deep rooted pain. She struggled to stay standing, vaguely aware that they were in some kind of trouble. But it was Kyp Durron that brought her back to reality as he asked if they needed any more repairs to the ship.

"No. No you should go back to you're family." Eleanor gritted her teeth and hoped that everyone else was alright. "I can go, Whistler prepare the ship." She turned to Kyp and squeezed his shoulder, smiling at him, impressed that he had brought her this far. "One day the First Order will be defeated, and Jedi won't have to live in fear anymore. It is the way." Eleanor let go and saluted, before turning and running on the ship.

"Whistler; we need to leave. We need to..." Eleanor winched again, wondering why she was so exhausted. "Contact the Resistance." She struggled to the pilots chair. "We need to stop this before it gets worse." But I don't know how to do that.

Tag: @Sinrebirth @The Real Kyp Durron @Kev-Mas_Colcha @greyjedi125

 

Name: Vincent Mikaru

Age: 29

Appearance:

Personal Effects: Echani Noble’s Vestments (cortosis weave clothing), Silver Bladed twin lightsabers

Personal Ship: Ivory Dagger. Custom Heavy Interceptor Starfighter



Bio: Vincent Mikaru, heir to the Mikaru Corporation and CEO of Mikaru Security Solutions. Vincent is of noble birth, wanting for nothing, but pragmatic and philanthropic he uses his wealth and power granted to him by his company and family assets to help those in need, as much as burgeon his own pockets.

Secret: It's a secret.

-- --- --


In the days after the destruction of Hosnian Prime, but before the Battle of Crait; Chandrila; Tomb of the Braesen'thor; Grave of an Outlander


When we last left Vincent Mikaru, he was pursuing a historical anachronism; himself, and his bloodline.


Fresh from having won the Battle of Eshan, he headed to Chandrila to follow the only lead that he had, shy of discovering the coordinates to the mythical world of Odessan. The tomb had proven a series of traps, or perhaps tests, depending on whether one believed the Outlanders to be Sith or Jedi.


The mythical Outlanders were a group of individuals who defeated Emperor Valkorion, for a time, at the very least, and seized control of the Eternal Empire - an organisation from the Unknown Regions which brought low both the warring Galactic Republic and Sith Empire with ancient yet incredibly advanced droid technology. This his empire did in a single year, so one had to admit the connection to the incredible group that defeated such an incredible foe, and indeed that self-same technology, was worth exploring.


Especially while the First Order was carving up the galaxy itself.


Vincent would come to in the shadows of a cranny of the tomb; he had a bloody forehead and at least some of his gear was missing.


But what awoke him were presences in the Force.


Dark ones; deeper in the tomb.


Pulling himself up, the Echani felt the warmth on his brow and cursed lightly in his native tongue. Was it a simple gash? Something worse? Moreso, how did he get here? The immediate past seemed fuzzy, he recalled distinctly his conversation with the Republic Commander in orbit, the relencting of his escort ships, and the descent into the Atmosphere. Beyond that it was a blur, a blurr that would likely smooth out in time, but time was not something he had.


In the dark he could not fully see, the blow to his head seemed to have disrupted the connection with his cybernetic eye. He could feel it coming back online, the low echoing static in his head was testament to it, but such delicate functions would take more than a few ticks. He felt around his person, he was at least still clothed, but his other gear had been knocked loose. He was thankfully far from defenseless, no Echani ever was.


Clearing his mind as best he could, he could feel... something. Beyond the static, beyond the edge of his mind's eye he could feel it like shadows. Normally he could have focused, felt it out, wormed his way towards it, it was something he was trained to do. But here, he was not on the top of his game. He was already off center, the revelations of the past few days weighed heavily on his mind, his ancestors, the legacy he seemed destined to engage in, the reveal of his direct lineage to a Sith Lady who sat upon the Dark Council of the ancient Sith Empire.


He shook his head, discarding such wayward thoughts and trying to clear it, wiping the blood from it with the back of his gloved hand. "Focus, Mikaru..." He muttered to himself as he began reaching out, just slightly, with the Force. "You must get back into the crypt proper... you are here after all, for purpose." And self exploration that purpose may be, it would not be found wallowing in the dark.


And what purpose is that, Descendant?


A voice, disembodied, reverberated through Vincent. The Legacy of the Outlander you pursue, and yet, not all of that Legacy is light, as you well know.


As they well know, the ones who defile my tomb. But if the difference is intention, then I confess that after my millennia I do not see the difference.


No spectral blue nor shadowed crimson figure emerged from the gloom. There was merely the voice, and merely the question.


Vincent gave pause, for a moment, before continuing to feel his way out. "In a word, defiance." His response seemed conversational, two weeks ago spectral voices in goddess forsaken crypts would have been enough to flabbergast the young man, now it any given Taungsday. "Light and Dark are abstract concepts to denote good and evil without true definition." He found his way to an exit from the caved in section he was in, blocked by a boulder about half his size. He did his best to limber himself up, before attempting to push it out of the way.


"Astral and Umbral, Order and Chaos, Harmony and Disharmony. Whatever name you give it, they are natural abstract forces of this world that cannot exist without them. Or without each other. Shadow cannot exist without Light, Light cannot exist without casting a Shadow. The concept of Darkness means nothing without Light to counter it. I accept that I may tread a path that leads me wavering between light and dark and that I might fall off into a void on either side, but this isn't about me, or the potential damning of my own soul."


The boulder gave way, and he found himself freed into more darkness, but the flow of air let him know he was in a larger room. "Back to the point, defiance. Tyranny is evil, and it can rise from the best or worst of intentions. When a suppressive, tyrannical empire swept across the Galaxy, oppressing the people of both the Republic and Empire what did you or yours do? Defiance. A force of tyranny sweeps across this Galaxy again, shattering worlds, murdering billions. I have within me the potential to do something, to bring an end a wave of destruction and oppression that could forever decimate all we know."


Standing up, his cybernetic eye finally kicked in, casting the area around him, to his own vision at least, in a dark blue glow, letting him see a bit more clearly. "I can either accept that fate, or I can defy it, but I cannot deny it." Putting his hands together in front of him he popped his knuckles, his neck soon following as he flexed his shoulders. "Now, show me to those who would defile our legacy."


The Voice seemed pleased. Denying your fate will undo you, as destiny acts through us, not because of us, precisely, child. His attention seemed to waive, looking elsewhere. Descent below the surface tombs, and come to my central tomb. The Guardians are falling, and they will soon be undone...


... exposing my tomb and Holocron.


A vision would press between Vincent's eyes, tangling and revealing, through blurred-edge-sight, a pair of black-clad soldiers, one holding an oversized axe, and by oversized, one quite literally would think of a meat-cleaver of sorts, and another with a chunky-rifle with slugs on bandoliers strapped across his chest.


They call themselves Knights of Ren.


I believe you have faced and killed some already...?


"Some who called themselves Knights of Ren... I doubt the validity of that however." He reached behind his back, under his coat, and pulled out his blaster pistol. Looking over the weapon he checked the charge status, full, so it hadn't taken any damage to cause a leak. Likely meant the spare power pack was the same. Holding the weapon up for quick reaction he started to make his way down towards where he felt the tomb lead, and the presences he could feel. He then pulled in his own force prescience, trying to mask it. "Rifleman will be the most dangerous..." He was musing quietly to himself, but assuming the voice could hear. "If I can take him out, dealing with the axeman will be simpler... though it's up to if he wields such a large weapon for fear factor, or if he's more adept than he appears."


Logistics, good. I did not think they were 'Knights of Ren' either. They feel darker, to my senses. Sith, but there are two of them... a lilting tone. I know of the Tribe, of the thousands of Sith that roamed the galaxy in recent years, and I know of the Rule of Two, which spawned powerful Force users...


... I wonder which these are... and whether your blaster will be sufficient.


Your other weapon, I see it with them, strapped to the rifleman's back. The Voice continued.


There is a weapon in my sarcophagus, if you can reach it. My lightsaber; perfectly balanced in the Force... you may require subterfuge, before violence. A light shone, illuminating a side-path. A purple ripple, showing the way directly to the Knights.


But your tactics are your own, not mine, the Voice said, wry.


The Echani followed the path he was being guided on, his left hand reaching behind him, pulling out the spare power pack for his blaster. He looked it over, a plan formulating. "Assuming these are Sith, actual Sith, then they are like to sense disturbances in the Force better than most. Were one to think unorthodoxly, one could use that against them." He stepped out of the winding path, feeling the presences in the Force stronger now. They were close.


Placing a finger to his left temple he willed his eye, and subsequent attached contact, to change modes. Infrared would be best suited here. Crouching down low he began looking for a place to lay his trap, a bolder, a pile of rocks, something that with enough applied force could, likely not kill, but take the wind out of. He also needed a place to hide, all he needed was a few moments, he simply needed to get past these defilers, and then hope he remembered all of his training with Victus' lightsaber. He was going to need it.


There were all manner if insecurities in the Tomb, having been breached by explosives more than once, and damaged for it. The Force warned him of the most dangerous fault-lines, ones which should not be nudged for distractions or rocks. If also showed some lesser ones which could afford to be tugged at, without dropping the entire Tomb upon them.


His infrared contact gave him a clear sight of the two intruders, indeed, they were on the same level as him but there were vague shapes beneath him; quadrupedal, stalking the lower level...


That ones more of a trap than a test, admittedly...


"One I can use to my advantage... potentially. Traps like doors tend to swing both ways." Vincent took the time to center himself, it would do him and the Barsen'thor ill if he was not fully prepared not 'one' with the Force, or as one as he could be. Inhaling, he focused, pull in the doubt, the concern, the stray thoughts. Exhale, push them away, let them quit from your mind, they have their place but it is not here, not now. Opening his eyes Vincent focused his mind on a fault, a singular crack in the structure of the tomb that after millenia of wear was waiting, just for the right push.


Then, pressing himself against a wall he reached out, he projected, he willed himself to be not where he was. His presence in the Force flared, but through careful concentration, it was not at his location, but rather behind a small outcropping of rock, near atop the fault line. "Sometimes, my dear boy. It is best not simply to hide, but to not be where they think you are." His master's words echoed in his mind for just a moment. All he had to do now was hope that they fell for the trick, and that the trap would be enough.


Sure enough both 'Knights' began trudging along towards where Vincent had projected himself, and in the darkness he could see their forms more clearly, and the cold outline of his sword against the back of the gunman. Clutching the spare power pack in his hand he waited, he needed them to be as on top of that fault as they could be. Inch by agonizing inch they moved until they were on top of it. He heard one speak, unable to make out the words as he thumbed down on a switch on the pack, setting it to overcharge, and throwing it.


It landed, clattering between the two of them who looked down, and then over towards Vincent. They both moved to draw their weapons but it was a moment too late as the Echani drew the Force within him and sent out a singular arc of lightning from the tip of his fingers. The energy struck the pack, causing it to erupt in an electrically charged explosion of tibanna gas, the flare of which whited out Vincent's vision in that area, and giving him his opening.


He took off running, not even looking to see how effective the trap may have been. Using the Force he bolstered his speed, aiming himself towards the inner tomb, feeling out behind him only to try and sense any counter attacks. "I hope you don't mind me rummaging through your belongings here. Grave robbing wasn't on my list of things to do, but you did offer..."


One Sith Knight exploded into a mist of blood, but the other lashed out, slamming the Force outward where, dutifully, they expected Vincent to be, rather than where he was.


Cracks began to spider around the tomb, for of course the Knight was not as subtle as Vincent, but he swiftly caught the scent of Vincent, rushing to catch up - and heading straight into whatever spectral beast trap had been intended to catch intruders. A lightsaber hummed, and violence ensured.


Beneath that violence, however, was Vincent in the tomb, but now he was here, no voice greeted him but instead the anticipated blue ghost of a scarred visage, Jedi robes somewhere beneath the rest of his attire, which included a darker gloves and black tunic through the centre. His arms were folded, not in censure, but appraisal. “I did consent, of course I did.”


The sconces lit, revealing a sarcophagus in the centre of the room. “I did learn how to become one with the Force, and my... alternate training didn’t prevent that.” He smirked at that. “But one of us had to light the way; our heritage would inevitably become wrapped up in the future...”


"You can't escape the past, it inevitably helps lay the foundation for the future. Many may have forgotten but the actions of the Outlanders made sure the Galaxy could flow as it had, for better or worse." Despite his words, he was lost in the moment, as he stepped forward, lightly placing his gloved hand on the sarcophagus. "Three weeks ago I wanted nothing more than to be a playboy philanthropist, wining, dining, grinding... but like I said you can't run from destiny, no matter how hard you might try it will find you... and there are people who need me."


Reaching behind him, he pulled from a large pouch on his belt the helmet he found in the old Family museum, "Kallig... that was the name that went with this, this legacy that is in my blood, the one tied to you, and the other Outlanders, through Lady Nereza." Taking a breath he slipped the helmet over his head, finding that it fit, surprisingly well, almost like it was meant for him. "I don't know what the future holds, I don't know if one man can repeat what eight Outlanders did so long ago. But I have to try... so, though you've already consented I ask properly, as an Echani should. Lend me your weapon, so that I may fight the battles others cannot."


"My name was the Braesen'thor, in life."


He gestured languidly, and the body levitated out of the opening sarcophagus. Beneath the mummified form was a holocron, a lightsaber and a helmet. "A Zakuul Knight," the late Outlander said. "You may take all three, and trace the Eternal heritage that these Sith Knights seek."


There was a cacophony of noise, and a wall to the inner tomb exploded inward, a chunk of rubble crashing through the apparition, the body rolling aside and the room filling with dust. Within it stood a red-lightsaber wielding Knight, his face concealed, and half a dozen small, stunted Tukata beside him.


"Ah," the Outlander said. "I did wonder if Sith hounds could be turned against my defences..."


The Knight thrust his lightsaber at Vincent. "Hand it over."


The spirit form of the Outlander wavered. "Ah; the anchor has been disrupted..." He faded from the room, leaving Vincent to his foes, in this limited space.


Vincent held his hands out over the sarcophagus, his right calling the saber into his hand, the left guiding the holocron into the satchel that had just held the mask of Kallig. "I will hand over nothing." He pulled at his jacket, the loser fabric receding, the coat, vest, pants all pulling closer to the skin, like a bodysuit, like armor. He was an Echani Noble, even his vestments were laced with cortosis, even an Echani noble would not go without armor.


From behind the eyes of his mask he observed his opponent, and his beasts. Numbers went to the Sith, but the warrior in Vincent knew the advantage was his. The beasts, and their master, would have limited movement options in the enclosed tomb, and one did not ever have the full advantage against an Echani in close range, especially when Vincent need not worry about harming 'allies' with his swings. Taking in a breath, he drew himself into a stance, left foot forward, right arm raised, left arm forward and low. At a glance, a poor approximation of a Soresu stance.


The saber snapped to life, a green attenuated blade springing to life, casting the area around him in it's glow. "I'll do the good thing, and give you a chance to leave... but I think we both know you won't take it."


"Of course, not slime," the Sith Knight pointed his blade. "Kill."


The pack split, two going either way around the sarcophagus, two bounding over, teeth and claws reaching.


The Sith Knight raised his hand and focused on the battery within the lightsaber, leaning upon it to drain it, but something strangely resistant occurred and the Knight was rebuffed. A slight laugh echoed. Old trick, that one. Very old.


Vincent gave no retort, instead quickly raising his left hand, held forward earlier with purpose. The Force swirled for a moment, and his arm thrust hard to the side, and along with it the Tukata that were bounding over the sarcophagus towards him, sending them careening into the pair that were rounding the left, as he stepped forward with his right foot, bringing the saber down, and to the right in a broad stroking motion, bifurcating the first hound, and clipping the other sending it retreating just enough for him to draw his blaster and finish the job.


He then unceremoniously turned, aimed the blaster out at the four others recovering from their collision and fired, eight round, two per target. An act performed with lackadaisical enthusiasm but obvious training. "You aren't fighting a Jedi." He let out a breath, almost like a sigh. He reholstered the blaster, and making sure it was very secure, and then stepped around the sarcophagus. "I am a very practical man, pragmatic if you will. I will not be dealing with you in flashy ways, I will not be making grandiose gestures of the lightside, I will not try and turn you, I will not try and make you see the error of your ways."


He dropped back down into the now very obviously intentionally fluid stance, eyes of his mask focused straight on the Sith. "Simply put, if you do not surrender or leave, I will kill you. In the most efficient and practical way possible."


Words were required at this point, and a pointer silence descended. The Sith was not idle while Vincent shot the hounds, all but one of which died immediately; the Sith lifted the sarcophagus lid and drove it for the not-Jedi’s chest.


Otherwise he wove his defences tight, tweaking his perceptions so that he could deflect a bolt as necessary; he had no doubt the man would use the blaster in a sword fight, adding an unorthodox bend to the battle to come.


This was not a problem; the hounds had been mere distraction.


Efficiency it would be then. Vincent ducked down low, letting the lid sail over him, he could have sliced it in half but he'd like to at least leave the sarcophagus as whole as possible, out of respect, when this was done. Standing he lept over open grave and positioned himself between the remaining prize, the helmet, and the Sith, and dropped back into his stance from before. Was he biding his time? Waiting for an opening? Plotting something? Only Vincent knew, but he stood between the Sith and their goal. That would be what mattered most.


The Knight grimaced, recognising belatedly that this was an opponent that could kill him, taking the moment given, and using it.


He held out his arms, and swept them inwards; all the corpses were picked up and hurtled at Vincent, and the Sith released a bolt of lightning at the not-Jedi - either to burst apart the bodies or to strike Vincent while distracted by the dead hounds. Exhaustion nibbled at the Knight, and he allowed part of his mind to unfurl and touch the helmet, ready to take a handful of steps back and try to flee. His perceptions were already drawing in on themselves, shrinking his knowledge of the room.


Vincent was disappointed, the warrior in him lamenting the opponent he'd been forced to face. Range was his ally, that was why he had Tuakata's, why he threw the lid, and why he now used the remains as ballistic weapons. Vincent however had a use for them as well, a shield. Drawing his hands up, fists clenched, and then pulling them to his chest he pulled the Force around him, a barrier, taking the brunt of the impact as he held the bodies to him.


Lightning crackled across their forms, a buffer between it and Vincent, though some go through, arcing across the cortosis weave in his clothing. It would take no damage, but he still felt the discomfort, but he held. He held until he could feel the focus of the Sith wane, just so, and he threw his arms outward, using the Force to cause the air around him to burst sending bodies flying. Then in that moment of distraction he reached out with his left hand, fingers slowly furling into a fist as he gripped, willing the Force around the Sith, and pulled.


And as that arm came back, his right foot, stepped forward, lightsaber snapping back to life as he thrust it forward. Efficiency, would be a single stroke.


Efficiency was his ally, and his victory. The Sith was impaled upon the lightsaber, gasping, dropping his lightsaber to grip Vincent’s wrist.


Into his other hand landed the Zakuul helmet, and the Sith Knight gasped in pain behind his own headgear. “Do you know what this is, fool of a not-Jedi?”


Vincent looked at the Sith, his lightsaber through his chest, and then the helmet. "My burden to bear..." He replied, reaching out with his now freed hand and gripping the helmet. As his hand fell upon it, the world around him froze, and in his mind he saw countless visions. A swampy world in the unknown regions, a massive city at which the center a spire towering up into the heavens stood. And through it's streets and corridors the Knights marched.


Korriban, the sandstorms billowing across the battlefield as lightsaber clashed against lightsaber. And the Knights marched, undeterred by the Sith that fell upon them. Alderaan, it's grassy lowlands, and snow capped peaks oppressed under the march, Jedi fall, Troopers fall. The Eternal Empire marched on. An ancient and proud shadowport, an Asylum for any and all, surrounded, under fire. A burst of dark power, sinister laughter, and broken will. The Emperor persists. A blue world, of mountains and forests, forgot to time. A place of hope, where old ties died and new bonds were forged. Were resistance was born, and alliances were made Eternal. Defiance remains.


Snapping out of the vision, Vincent pulled the helmet out of the Sith's grip and pulled the saber back, pushing the wounded warrior away as he also kicked the Sith's saber away, letting the warrior collapse. Looking at the helmet, he lifted his right hand, gripping the front of his ancestors mask and pulling it off. Eyes of near luminous silver looking down on the Sith. "You want to know... if I know what this is?" He asked, hooking the mask of Kallig to his belt before pointing the deactivated saber at his foe. He then spoke words, words not his own, in a voice not just his own, but many. Voices of those who had fallen, been manipulated, lost, regained, kindled hope, and given up on redemption.


"Kneel," the words echoed, "before the Dragon of Zakuul."


The spirit of the Braesen’thor watched the confrontation. Perhaps he should have trusted the man from the start, What with his performance and resonance with the Eternal Artefacts. The truth needed to be told.


The Sith Knight grinned, an exhalation pouring into the Force. “No. The Dragons.” His hand raised and a discharge burst into the mummified corpse of the Braesen’thor, and then the Knight released Vincent’s wrist, dropping to his knees and allowing the blade to reach his heart.


The body flopped to the floor, and the Braesen’thor recoiled. His spiritual form thrashed, evident to Vincent for the moment. I should have told you before; about the Secret Throne; about the -


But the anchor that he had to this world; his body - it was undone, and he held out a hand to Vincent before vanishing, leaving him with the helm, the bodies, and his questions.


Silence. All Vincent was left with, was silence. The saber, his now he supposed, deactivated in his hand and he clipped it to his belt, and he knelt. "Forgive me Braesen'thor, I did not understand how you maintained here... or I would have put more focus on defending the sarcophagus..." Pulling his legs underneath him he took a seated position, placing the helmet in front of him. Dragons. The Sith had mocked him with those words, and he could only guess at the meaning. Other 'descendants'? If so, he likely knew of one or more who has fallen, or were simply Darkside users.


He'd have to figure it out in time, for now he had more direct concerns. Reaching behind him he pulled open the pouch he'd hidden the Holocron in, and held it out. What did it contain? He didn't know. Maybe if he was lucky, answers. Closing his eyes he held out both of his hands and focused the Force around him, and the holocron, letting it float before him. Now, he had to hope it'd respond to him. That it would open.


The Holocron was a red and pyramidal one, and it did not, at this point in time, respond. It was silent, as if judging and wondering. While, yes, a Holocron could be forced to cooperate, there were dangers to do doing so. The data within could be damaged, or the Gatekeeper could make an attempt to trap you in its matrix, and leap free to take your body, in extreme cases.


There was a loud crack in the tombs foundations, dust billowing up, and as the moment settled, it was apparent that all but one of the hounds was dead, and the last had vanished.


Vincent now had the task of leaving the Tomb, with the trek up; the choice whether to hunt the survivor; to check on his trap for the other Knight, who presumably had the rest of his weapons; the bruises and aches of his unconsciousness were becoming apparent; thirst and hunger would press upon him.


His comlink was missing, so he wouldn’t be able to call for help, but it would be within his memory, unbidden, that there were a handful of places nearby to this part of the isolated countryside; the closest being a quiet medical home for the demented and elderly. If he left the tomb he’d find a variety of dead Chandrilian Security Force Officers, their comlink taken; more secrecy from the ‘Knights’.


In short; plenty to do, plenty to decide, plenty to wonder and wander.


It took him a few moments, not simply the sting of denial from the holocron, but the soreness that now crept into him. Standing he walked over to the remains of the night, and with the lightsaber in hand slashed off his cloak, quickly forming it into an over the shoulder bag to carry the Zakuul helm. He then gathered up the knight's fallen lightsaber and hooked it to another part of his belt.


His head was pounding now, the Force and Adrenaline had done wonders to keep the pain at bay but now the weight of a tomb falling on him was catching up. He needed to make his way back up to the surface, to signal for the Pride to send a pickup shuttle and prepare to leave the system. Where there was one group of Sith there were probably others. But he had one final thing to do. Reaching out he tried to concentrate with the Force as he headed out of the main tomb and towards where his trap had been lain. Cortosis was not so easily destroyed by a simple exploding blaster pack, his sword likely remained. He would not abandon that which was a part of his being.


As Vincent approached, he sensed a life, lightly clinging to a small spark.


It was the over Sith Knight, coughing up blood and his leg and a chunk of his side missing. He grunted in appreciate at Vincent as he arrived; the man had thrown off his mask and revealed a red-and-black tattooed face. "Good trap," he snarled, at the pain more than the man. He pawed the sword, indeed intact and beside him. "Good sword, too. I liked it."


"You got the Helm, and the Holocron, then?"


Another cough, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth.


"A good warrior uses everything to his advantage..." The Echani hesitated to reach down and pick up his blade, lest it be a trap, to the very end. "And yeah, I got them, for all the misery I imagine they'll bring me. My burden to bare I suppose." He crouched down, a few meters away, talking to the man now as a warrior to a warrior, rather than an enemy. "You're not gonna last long with those wounds. I could lie to you, say I could have help come down, but we both know that nobody would make it in time, and judging from your appreciation of my craftsmanship, you're a warrior at heart. Pride might not take it."


He sighed, motioning at the blade. "So, warrior to warrior, I'll let ya pick. Hold on, meditate, whatever, try and have help come, live to haunt me another day, a rare opportunity since I don't like loose ends to become nooses, since I doubt you'll turn over a new leaf. I let you take that sword, and take your own life. Or I can do it for you. Warrior should die with honor I think. Choice is yours."


The Sith Knight snorted. “Oh, the High Lord will punish me if I fail and survive, but who knows. Maybe he’ll enjoy the heads-up. He’ll say therefore a lot anyway.”


There was a slither of something there.


High Lord was a Tapani title, taken forward by the Lost Tribe of the Sith, who had been routed from Coruscant nearly two years ago. The Knight presumed Vincent would know as much, though how heavily involved the man was Galactic Alliance politics before its fall who knew; the New Republic had managed to stay neutral in the interplay between the Corellians, Hutts, Hapans and Imperials, merely meeting its treaty-bound quotas and not dedicating a single other ship to the cause - thanks to both Supreme Commander Bel Iblis and Chancellor Villecham. When the GA collapsed in the wake of Daala being overthrown, the New Republic had quietly resumed its position as the premier political body in the galaxy...


Until Hosnian Prime had exploded, of course.


“But hope springs Eternal, no?” A cough of blood. “I mean you could keep me alive and I’ll tell you where Kesh is.” A lie rang out in the Force. “But I’d rather kill you out of spite.”


His actions telegraphed, the Sith Knight reached out weakly for one of the stressed areas of the tomb, intending to tweak it and end them both.


Another sigh would have escaped Vincent's lips, had he the time. Instead, all he could do was launch himself forward, a hand out reached as he called his sword into his hand, the blade humming to life as the biometrics recognized his grip, and then the cold Cortosis blade slammed down on the Sith's neck. And as a thwang rang out from the impact, the kill, rang hollow.


Standing, Vincent used the Sith's robes to wipe the blood from the blade, before digging out the scabbard from the rubble and resecuring it to his belt. The Sith wanted him to kill him, the kill had been far too easy. An intentional open lie, to cause a ring in the air, he'd wanted a warriors death, but put in the bare minimum effort. Honorable, but only just.


Holding a hand to his head he struggled to bypass the oncoming headache, focusing instead on the comlink embedded near his ear. There had to be something in range. The Sith had to have had some means of communication, and if he could just bounce off of it... He stopped. No, that would give away his position to anybody listening on their end. He'd need to climb higher, try and reach the signal range of the transport he'd come down here on. So, lightheaded, dizzy, and probably starving because who knows how long he'd been unconscious, Vincent started his way back up out of the tomb, a more daunting task than entering, given how much damage had been done.


However long it took, he didn’t know, his head was dizzy and he was feeling lightheaded, and his ship, along with the medical equipment in the spare compartments. Holding a hand to his head he tried to reach out with his commlink. Silence, except for a standby beacon. Confusion filled his mind, why would the AI move, why would it go standby? The HUD via his cybernetic eye began displaying a waypoint marker, coordinates for the standby beacon. Groaning, he begins the long trudge towards the area being highlighted. Assuming of course, he didn’t collapse on the way.

Tag: @Sinrebirth

 

Leonias Colcha
Bridge, The Red Flame, Orbitting Bunduki

After having at least temporarily cancelled the assault on the First Order Star Destroyer, obviously because it managed to escape before it could be disabled, Leonias had received the call from Whistler.

"Fleet, remain in orbit. You may be able to offer continued assistance as we hunt our quarry, that we managed to track to its next location. I am returning down to the planet alone to convene with the clients that I called you here to assist."

--

Bunduki City

Up until this point, Leonias remained silent, choosing to listen to the whole story before offering input.

"So we know where three Jedi Masters are..." Vergere stated, stoking her whispers as she sat down on a bed, "the Resistance needs to know this, but I am worried about Chandrila. Thoughts, everyone? Leonias, Ashban - are you coming?"

"The Sun Guard have tracked the First Order Resurgent-class Star Destroyer that has just fled this system to Chandrila. We have plans for this ship, so my fleet in this system will give chase to it. Given the fact that one of the masters is on Chandrila currently, it seems like we know exactly what the first target is, and that we shouldn't dally any further."

Tag: @Sinrebirth , @greyjedi125 , @TheSilentInfluence

 

IC: Ashban
Bunduki, City

It had ended almost as suddenly as it had begun- the battle that is.

One moment, he was surrounded by death-defying troopers and the next…they were all gone.

The city skies were clear of enemy ships, there was no sign of a single stormtrooper in the city streets. As a matter of fact, Ashban did not sense them anywhere- the same was true for Kyp, but for very different reasons.

“Force be with you.” Ashban said, wishing the best to his now absent, temporary host. He was fairly certain Kyp would not be found at the old apartment if anyone bothered to look there.

The blind man secured what little effects he had on his person and immediately made his way to where he was being drawn. The newcomer’s ship. It landed somewhere in the middle of the city.

Without wasting another moment, the blind man moved with alacrity, making it to the ship in good time. The locals avoided him, but he was satisfied that they were now safe from their attackers, more than anything else.

“Hello to you too little one.” Ashban answered in response to the welcoming droid’s excited whistles and tweets once he boarded. It was good that droids spoke plainly and were straight to the point without the need of preamble. Vergere had been injured and was in the ship’s medbay.

Upon entering the medbay proper, Ashban noticed the Sun Guard and immediately offered him a solid and respectful nod.

“Thank you, Master Colcha.”

The Sun Guard had kept his word and protected those who could not. Especially in the absence of the Jedi. The Force always found a way. There was no mistaking it. The Force was strong with Leonias.

Turning, Ashban moved next to the bed where the bird woman lay. He listened to her speak, even as he gently hovered a hand over the wound across her scalp, focused his mind and began the gently coax the wouded area to heal. That’s one of the reasons why the locals initially trusted him.

So, she had faced a sith all on her own and survived. Perhaps there was more to the bird woman than what was readily apparent. The astromech droid tweedled, drawing their attention before projecting holo-images of secreted Jedi.

He still found it hard to believe that Princess Leia’s son was such a monster, but that was not the focus of the moment.

Two Jedi Masters, dead by Kylo's hands. Three others were missing. However, there were another three Jedi Masters that were still alive and in hiding. Three points of Light in the sea of Darkness.

As for their next destination, Leonias seemed to have his mind made-up.

“Chandrila, it is.” Ashban asserted in calm agreement, still ministering to Vergere’s wound.

It seemed that Darkness already had a head start to their destination of choice.


Tag: @Sinrebirth, @Kev-Mas_Colcha, @TheSilentInfluence