Star Wars CLOSED Star Wars: Ronin: The Curse of Qalydon

A detonation in the sky.

The big Imperial Dreadnought.

The Sith Destroyer.

They were all going down.

Marcus was defeated, with his daughter besides him.

Sheev was so sure of his victory he merely looked up in the glowing sky.



"Beautiful," he rued, amused.

Energy returned to the forms scattered around the broken battlefield.

The True Jedi Master, Tedryn, he stood, hazardly -

Maldael and Manticore would return to their bodies, bruised in soul and flesh -

All four of them were hurt, badly, they were no threat to Sheev, and he took his time to enjoy the moment.

The sphere like ship of Tulak Hord crested the hulk that contained Kazu and the Ronin, catching it in a sphere in it's cable-like embrace.

Sheev lifted a hand and squeezed.

The two ships went down, crashing into the side of the courtyard.

The Ronin used the Force to encase him and Kazu, to protect them, but they, too, were battered by the impact.

A detonation of the Force sent the wreckage of their ship away, and the Ronin stood, his robes tattered, his expression serious.



The grounded Sith Meditation Sphere erupted.

Tulak Hord emerged.



The Imperial Dreadnoughts detonation had caused another to emerge.

A single shuttle drifted to the surface.

Sheev gestured, and escalated it's decline -

A blast of the Force encased it, in Light -

The shuttle nonetheless was no vessel for such power and shattered -

From that light emerged the Jedi Grand Lord.



Ductavis was here.

In the distance, the fortress was breached.

Hundreds of Jedi Lords and Sith Lords battled.

Their fates meant nothing to these.

The Ronin.

Kazu, Marcus, Maldael, Manticore.

Ductavis.

Tulak Hord.

Sheev.

"And now!" The old Emperor intoned.

"The Twilight Wars commence!"

"Two Lights!"

An indication to Ductavis and Tedryn.

"Two Darks!"

A sweeping gesture to include Manticore and Tulak Hord.

"The Two Between!"

Marcus; Maldael.

"The Two Apart!"

Kazu, and the unconscious child at Marcus' feet.

"One Balance!"

A fluttering of fingers to indicate the Ronin.

"And the one Chaos!"

He touched his chest.

"Let us usher in a Change, and end all things!"

A sweep of energy emerged, energizing the wounded; cuts healed; exhaustion ebbed; even metal strengthened in a droid form.

The Ronin, Marcus, Tedryn, Manticore, Maldael, even Kazu -

There was a roar from those betrayed by Sheev, who now faced invigorated foes.

Tulak Hord, Ductavis.

The Ronin angled his blade across his chest.

"Let us end this!"

OOC: Please all players, PM me your single selecting a target.

First come, first served, then we shall devolve into combos.

TAG: @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto, @greyjedi125, @darthbernael

 

IC: Maldael Fesh
The True Battle of Chabosh

A groan of pain escaped the sephi laying on the ground. Maldael had faced and decided, chosen his war, with his battle brother making the same choice. The space they’d been drawn into had collapsed as their choice had been made and he found himself, once again, in his wounded and drained body. Around him, he could feel the multiple battle lines being drawn, the pain of all those who had been caught up in the choices made, the destruction being wrought, but he had not the energy that it would take to even lift a finger let alone do anything to fulfill the vow he’d made.

Somehow, he was drawn to his feet, he supposed it was the energy of what the Emperor had become that was doing so. Around him he could feel the others before that being spoke, his voice, his presence thundering through the air and in the Force.

"And now!" The old Emperor intoned.

"The Twilight Wars commence!"

"Two Lights!"

An indication to Ductavis and Tedryn.

"Two Darks!"

A sweeping gesture to include Manticore and Tulak Hord.

"The Two Between!"

Marcus; Maldael.

"The Two Apart!"

Kazu, and the unconscious child at Marcus' feet.

"One Balance!"

A fluttering of fingers to indicate the Ronin.

"And the one Chaos!"

He touched his chest.

"Let us usher in a Change, and end all things!"

With the final pronouncement his body arched, back bowed backward, as energy, power, revitalization all rushed into him. As he gasped and straightened, he looked around, finally feeling and seeing the others around him fully. His battle brother stood near the form of Tulak Hord, both glowing darkly, although there was an answering call or so it felt, that tied him and Manticore together. The idiot from Kajimi was there and seemed to be the one who had been pronounced a One Between as he had. Tedryn, unsurprisingly, was beside Ductavis, glowing as brightly in the Light as Manticore and Hord were dark. A huddled child and the droid he’d told his secret to were near, a wavering energy that fluctuated in the Light and Dark were there, both balanced and not, almost hidden in their desires to resolve this. A strong, evenly light and dark presence was the one who he’d not directly faced before but felt a kindred spirit. And then there was the chaos, as he’d named himself, that had been the Emperor.

Choices needed to be made, battle lines drawn again, and this insane idea of the Chaos being stopped before it destroyed all. Or so he thought, felt. Glancing at Marcus, ”We may not have agreed before but I hope you agree now, dark and light, balance too, can be dealt with, can be contained. But if chaos thrives all is lost.”

With that, his shoulders squared, his form filled with the renewed energy, he turned to face the Emperor. He may not have the power, the ability to destroy that being or slow him, on his own but he’d resolved already that he would fight, even unto his own destruction, to stop that one. As his guest stirred, that one’s energy filling him as well, a subtle glow surrounding him and his eyes swirling with greys, he settled into a defensive stance, preparing to stand against Chaos.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto, @greyjedi125

 

IC: Ajunta Pall the Ronin

The Battle of Chabosh.

The great battle raged.

The Jedi Lords.

The Shadow Sith.

Those Jedi that believed in Empire.

Those Sith that would not surrender the war yet.

The Ronin, the last of the original Dark Jedi Masters, the only Jedi Lord to have fallen during the Hundred Years Darkness, stood apart.

There was a clear distinction between the Light and Dark warring here, and now. The Jedi Master Tedryn dove towards Tulak Hord, the Shadow Lord of the Sith, the Lord of Hate, blue and red blades ignited. The Grand Lord of the Jedi, Ductavis, he brandished his staff in one hand and his green lightsaber in the other, bellowed a war cry, and charged at the two of them as if an Ashla of old. Kazu fired into that, but deft Force dodges and movements, all apart of the death dance between them, deflected or nullified his attacks with waves of simple power.

The Ronin turned to look at the other aspect of light and dark.

He knew of it from the ancient readings on Korriban; knowledge he had censored when presented to him by the worshipping Sith species, that matched what he had seen in the Kyber Mirror. Truths had that exposed to him the simple fact that the dark side did not rebel; it did not seek freedom for freedom’s sake, it sought to dominate and control as its version of independence. Whereas he saw the isolation of the Stygian Caldera as a redoubt to seclude themselves from the corruption of the Republic turned Empire, others saw it as a fortress to cradle their own brand of Imperialism, a font of power from which to prepare the ultimate invasion of the Core.

Instead he saw light and dark were as nuanced as they were different.

Perhaps the ancient names for the warriors of the Cosmic Wars were more accurate.

To Protect; or to Destroy.

He saw it.

Three Protectors standing before one Destructor.

Marcus, Maldael and Manticore.

A variety of Jedi and Sith.

Sheev.

A self proclaimed True Sith.

Sheev himself had healed up the three of them to redirect them at the Lords and Masters of the Jedi and Sith.

They had not been turned.

They had seen the true threat.

The Ronin briefly considered setting it all aside, cutting down the Jedi Lord, the Sith Lord, the Jedi Master… setting himself as the Sith Master within that dynamic, no doubt. But he saw that it was an endless cycle, and he was merely contributing to its longevity. He may be able to hold back the Sith Empire he had wrought for a time, but when his successors burst forth from the Stygian Caldera, they would reap war without end. He had a brief vision of millennia of warfare, masked Sith Lords, one with a face of many species, taking and taking and taking, of the Jedi Temple burning, of suns and worlds exploding…

He held up a hand to Kazu.

Pointed at Sheev.

Charged to join the line of Protectors.

The True Sith, Sheev, tilted his chin at the three of them, and drew his hood over his head.

A flick of his hands and a massive Force wave impacted Kazu and Marcus, with the intent of sending them and Marcus’s child flying -

“So. It’s treason then.”

He twisted his arm, and a lightsaber dropped into one palm.

Then another.

He ignited both of them, cackling, eyes burning yellow and then white.



The Ronin touched the Force to his feet and reached Sheev first, he lashed out at his neck, and Sheev rushed forward, dove under the attack and pivoted down, building up speed as he spun, cutting crimson streaks in the floor and then hopping up to slash out at both the necks of Maldael and Manticore at lightning speed -

The fight was on.

TAG: @greyjedi125, @darthbernael, @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto (finale combo)

 

IC: Maldael, Manticore, Marcus, the Ronin, the Emperor
The Battle of Chabosh

The tableau was broken, discussion was done, the battle lines had been drawn. Maldael barely had time to notice which combatants had squared off, save that Manticore at least had joined him against the Emperor when that being spoke.

“So. It’s treason then.”

Even as the words were spoken, the sephi had begun to move. He was expecting that Chaos would do what it must to divide and conquer. He was not disappointed. The corner of his lips had twitched as Sheev’s lightsabers ignited and the Ronin had attacked. When Sheev had ducked under the attack Mal had ignored the display of the lightsabers as they grated across the ground.

He’d thrown himself backwards, one saber leaping to his nad, igniting and sweeping upward. That he had was what saved him. A golden light erupted as his blade moved, deflecting the red blade of the Emperor. He felt the heat, felt the pain as it slashed a shallow cut across his throat, cauterizing the wound with the heat as it passed. His eyes flared and he threw himself to the ground, kicking out at Sheev’s knee.

There was a flash of light and a flare of darkness, even as the final battle erupted in a blink of an eye. To what end, none could say- but all would bear witness- at least the ones that lived to tell the tale.

Manticore barely had time to mount a proper defense against the Emperor’s attack.

The Ronin was the first to move, his motions fluid and fast- yet they had not been sufficient to the task. The Emperor’s reflexes were like those of a warrior at least half his age, with all the skills of a Master. He’d slid under the Ronin’s attack - then was upon the zabrak and Maldael inside the same breath.

With his fiery gaze, Manticore was able to track the Emperor's movement thus far, but- his own response time would have been off, had he not been touching the force already. The zabrak warrior reacted with a spinning deflection of his own ignited weapons, a skillful parry for sure, yet feeling the battering force of the Emperor’s assault. The intended beheading was averted, yet the fiery sparks that exploded upon contact burnt Manticore’s neck.

The painful burns he'd 'ignore', for he had trained to withstand great pain, yet such pain fueled his anger, filled him with greater strength, as always. Manticore’s movements continued uninterrupted as he spun-out and slashed outward, charging the strike with the force, much as the Emperor had, presumably. His aim was to bodily wound the Emperor critically, as a direct result for attacking him and his brother simultaneously- and of course - to return the favor with interest.

Between himself and his sephi brother, the zabrak felt confident they could keep the Emperor busy enough, at least for a moment, enough to create an opportunity for someone just as committed to the cause, to stop him with a fatal blow.

How strange.

There was an odd sense of ‘familiarity’ to this battle, but one he could not afford to focus on at the moment- not until after the Lord of Chaos had been vanquished.

When the Emperor sent a massive Force wave toward them, Marcus's first instinct was protecting his daughter. He shielded her with his back, taking the brunt of the Force wave. And yet he didn't go flying, whether it was because of the Force or just sheer stubbornness.

Marcus knew that he could not leave his daughter here. Not where she could be easily caught in the crossfire and become collateral damage.

So Marcus fled.

While the others were occupied, Marcus ran with his daughter in his arms, trying to get her to safety.

Would he return to the fight? Perhaps. But at the moment, his concern for his daughter had to be addressed.

It was an interesting computational problem K4-ZU-P8489 or Kazu had to admit. All of this unit’s attacks were being blocked with pure application of power, Force Power. Unless this unit could tap into that same power to imbue its own attacks this exercise was going to be futile in what appeared to be a stalemate scenario. As this war droid was without an orbital bombardment to call down for the occasion.

This line of processing and computational comparison was halted when Kazu noticed its nominal leader in the scenario raise a halting hand. Ceasing the attack it seamlessly transitioned to adding a barrage at the newly designated target as it turned to rapidly advance on the unknown. Trusting this unit's armor and beskar sword to defend itself with predictive analysis until it could bury said sword to bisect the vital organs of the designated target.

The Sith Emperor let Marcus flee, paid little heed to Kazu, which was probably to his overall detriment but he was having too much fun.

He spun on his feet, lifting them above Maldael's blow, and when Manticore swung at him, he used the Force to tilt himself back -

Hit booted foot smacked into Maldael's chin and sent him flying when Force strength came into the fray -

He planted his feet and blocked with both blades Manticore's subsequent swing, allowing it to move him but keeping in control, and then he flipped, clipping Manticore in the face as he went -

The Ronin rushed in, and the Sith Emperor turned, reversing into Manticore with his blades backwards, and then shoved his hands out to shove the Ronin away with incredible Force -

For a moment the Sith Emperor stood alone -

Marcus continued to run around, looking for either a ship or somewhere he could place his daughter.

Did he feel bad for leaving the others behind? Not really. Those he did know he wasn't a fan of, so as far as he was concerned they could go ahead and kill each other.

But Marcus was done. Especially after he had been forced to kill his own sister. He had no choice then. But he had a choice now. And his choice was to ensure that his daughter would live.

The rest could burn.

Kazu in this instance used its blaster as it stayed far enough away to compute what they were facing. What it decided was rapid weapons exchange to the disintegrator, which this unit aimed at targets feet - or rather the ground just below them. To aim at a Force user was to try to harm or kill directly was to warn said target of the danger. With droids that warning was shorter than with organics, at least according to its databanks, but adding an additional indirection to the danger should further aid the attempt. By aiming at the ground under the feet it was not a direct attack, adding the nature of the attack it was not direct damage, but the wave of spreading energy that would not pose a risk until after it had passed through the enemies shoes to the flesh, and so possibly would not warn prior to it already being in the soles of the garb. This was all computational gymnastics that had not been able to be ratified with field trials. Willing subjects were impossible, and status of involuntary prisoners was a contaminated data pool. Field testing was the only method available and this attack method had been owned nor used by this unit's squad during the war. Small computational circuits hummed with anticipation of the start of a new action algorithm.

Mal’s attack countered, his foot was still extended as he felt the world turn. It ook the flash of pain, the feeling of a starburst of pain as he flipped through the air to sense what had been done. His head slightly foggy for a moment, he yet managed to land on his feet with a growl.

The flash of a body passing made him realize, as his head cleared, that the damnable Jedi had run, had left him, Manticore, and the droid alone to fight the greatest darkness. ”MORON!! There is nowhere you can run if he survives!” burst from his lips, the words twisting and echoing in the air, borne aloft by the Force and his knowledge of Dun Moch.

Head turning, he settled on the tableau, the droid attacking the Emperor, the Emperor’s blades buried in Manticore’s body, the energy that bound them all. The darker runes that covered the left half of his body flared to life and his will shot forth. Instinctually he knew his brother would do the same if it had been him. The runes themselves began to shift and alter slightly, a half crown of horns began to sprout on the left side of his head as he Drained his brother, took his essence into himself.

With a roar, shuttering his Drain, he came to his feet. Reaching out, his left side flared in brilliant flames; his right, the runes now alight as well, burning with a frigid, invisible light. Stalking toward the Emperor, he moved to an oblique angle from the droid, to not give the Emperor a single frame of reference to target before his hands lifted, the fury of heat and the peaceful death of near zero Kelvin shot from his fingers at the Chaos.

Marcus had fled.

Manticore was down; dead, perhaps.

His energy flowed up into Maldael, even as the Sith Emperor made himself speedy, avoiding disruptor attacks.

The Ronin strode up, drawing his second blade and attempting to flip over the Emperor and meet his blades at his neck -

The Sith Emperor ducked, and before the Ronin hit the floor the Sith blade carved a line in his side, dropping him to the ground -

And then he turned into the attack from Maldael, raising a hand and unleashing pyrokinesis, meeting the cyrokinesis and unleashing a smoke that enfolded them both -

A twitch in the Force and Kazu's disruptor jammed, overheating, whining with a pending detonation -

Marcus would see the battle was not going their way, at his last glance back, before running hell-bent to the shuttle.

Tulak Hord was dominating Tedryn Sha, but Ductavis was causing all manner of grief with his ducking and weaving between and through. The Jedi Grand Master and Jedi Grand Lord could not work together against the Shadow Lord, but Tulak Hord was a far superior duelist to either -

It was, in-fact, going to be over very soon if this continued.

Marcus had managed to find a shuttle, much to his relief. Once inside the shuttle, he placed his daughter inside and began making preparations to take off. They could leave. They could escape and find somewhere new to live. Somewhere they could start over. They would be free.

...wouldn't they?

Marcus looked back toward the entrance to the shuttle. The fight was not going well. And if the wrong people won that fight, they would come after him and his daughter. They would never leave him alone.

Marcus sighed. He knew he had to end this. Now.

So, after making sure that his daughter was okay, Marcus went back to rejoin the fight, drawing his lightsaber.

"I must be an idiot for doing this," he said to himself.

As the mist surrounded both Mal and the Emperor the sephi dropped to the ground, extinguishing his sabers. Not wanting to give away his position by the glow of them, he crossed his legs, head bowed. He could feel the energy coursing through him that he’d taken from Manticore, letting it settle into place. Even as he did, something else, his guest, touched the energy, disrupting his careful strategy. The runes, both the dark runes and light ones, on his skin flared to life, subtly shifting and making him groan as they crept across his skin.

When the runes ceased moving, they were evenly distributed, all brightly lit in shades of grey. His yes, closed when the movement began, opened once more, blazing grey. ”No! You will not end this reality. It is not its appointed time.” came from his lips in a calm, even tone. At the same time both sabers flared to life, the sephi surging to his feet and settling into a defensive posture.

Noting the disruptor was jammed and beginning to overload Kazu took the moment to calculate time to explosion. Too soon an action would likely see the weapon returned to themselves, or diverted to an ally in this confrontation diminishing the already dropping probability rates of success. Changing the grip Kazu made a secondary calculation based on shape and arial drag, many bent objects could be used as returning throws aways. This of course was not the desire, but could be a useful property even if only partially applied to allow indirect casting. With that in its processors it threw the disruptor away at as near a right angle as possible for the improvised grenade to come at the Emperor’s posterior or side and detonate prior to contact.

This action of course required the unit to advance even as the weapon was thrown away. Beskar sword held forward the unit charged to add a building distraction, if it could occupy the Emperor there was a margin of victory that was yet calculable.

He howled in laughter, his voice becoming many. "A Change creates a Darkness, and with that Darkness, I will destroy you all!"

The Emperor didn't notice something as banal as a grenade until far too late.

A Force shield was raised to dissolve the eradicating energy, but the explosion upended him, sending him tumbling -

He flew between Tulak Hord, Ductavis, Tedryn and Ajunta Pall, who hesitated, looked back at Maldael, Kazu and Marcus -

The Sith Emperor pointed at Tulak Hord, at the man beneath his armour -

And snapped his neck.

The Force screamed, hammering their ears; even Kazu's auditory receptors!

Mal was glad he’d taken the posture he had when the explosion went off. Still, it drove him back several meters, leaning into the blast, before he came to a halt. He’d just regained his senses when the Force shivered and screamed, dropping him to his knees. Fighting the pain and wildly whipping Force energy, he regained his feet. The runes all along his body were flaring with wild light, suddenly brighter than they had been, more lighter shades of grey and white.

Shaking his head, he took in the sight of the now dead Tulak Hord, the Emperor seemingly ascendant. A growl came from his throat as he began to push through the sleeting energy, making his way towards the man. ”Never…never will you cause this…Change.” he muttered, sabers coming up before he powered forward, aiming a flurry of slashes at the Emperor’s hips and legs.

Marcus glanced at Tulak Hord.

It was strange. This Sith Lord had been the one to start this all by forcing Marcus out of hiding.

And yet, now Tulak Hord was dead before Marcus could even confront him about his threats toward his daughter.

But nevermind that.

Seeing Mal take charge, Marcus chose to join him in battle, coming in from a different angle and slashing at the Emperor with his saber.

And yet Tulak Hord stood. His armoured hand reached for the Emperor’s neck and seized it, to his surprise. “I am no pawn. I am a Dark Lord of the Sith.”

Ajunta Pall sighed with relief. For about as long as it took for Tedryn to plunge a blade into his gut; and then Grand Lord Ductavis relieve Tedryn of his head. In another motion he stabbed Tulak Hord in the chest and his staff slammed the Emperor into the dirt. None of them moved.

The Grand Lord of the Jedi looked at the others.

His blade and staff readied.

“The Jedi Empire will stand. Will keep the peace. Will not allow True Jedi or Shadow Lords or Foolish Sith to exist. All will be light, or will be nothing at all.”

A burst of white shot out, stabbing into their eyes, seeking to sever them from the very Force with a Wall of Light.

It didn’t mean anything to Kazu, of course.

Kazu staggered from the feedback screeching through its systems. It took several seconds to overcome and disconnect the feed from this unit's auditory receptors. Swaying slightly as Kazu took renewed stock of his systems’ conditions as well as the situation around itself, Kazu was surprised to witness a quick turn of events. Watching the chaotic play of attempted murders and betrayals was confusing to say the least. Then the Jedi this unit had fought earlier stepped forward with readied blade and staff. . .and the others seemed to cower, and be affected to varying degrees. The Jedi was not that impressive.

Statistical probability the Jedi using the Force in an offensive manner at 83%, could be raised to 97% if one discounts witty repartee.

97% certainty of Force use established.

Moving forward the unit reached out to grab the Jedi by the throat and crush it, meanwhile the other arm made to stab in through the gut and twist up through the heart while the blade wielding arm released a torrent of flamethrower flames at the same time. If successful this units primary adversary would be eliminated, allowing for confirmation of the Emperor's demise.

And Marcus immediately regretted his decision to come back to the fight. After all, what had he contributed? Absolutely nothing. He came, ready to join the fight and take on the Emperor... only for Tulak Hord to just grab him by the throat before everyone started betraying each other. Because of course everyone would betray each other.

He didn't need to come back. It had affected nothing in the slightest.

So he did what he should have done in the first place. He turned and started running back to the ship, back to his daughter.

Let the others kill each other and sort things out.

He just didn't care anymore.

Closing his eyes as the incandescent light burst from the Jedi Grandmaster, Mal felt an odd sensation. He was standing, leaning into the wave of power, but it felt as though the power was trying to wrench him in two directions at once. One pushing his essence, trying to force it out and away from him and one pulling, trying to do the same, but to suck it into the overly powerful Jedi. A different light sprang up, coming through the clenched eyelids, at first wavering, a spiraling swirl of grey, washing out and holding the effects of the Wall of Light at bay.

The effects of constant battle, fighting and defending himself for as long as he had had begun to wear at Mal. It wore on him to the point he barely noticed as his ‘guest’ gave a mental nod, his arms rising on their own. The runes began to flare across his body as he Pulled, not at the physical forms of Ductavis and Tulak Hord but at their respective cores of Light and Dark. His head fell back in a howl as power poured into him, more than he’d expected. He’d known both were immensely powerful but his whole body seemed alight with the writhing Light and Darkness.

The eerie, echoing howl continued as he fell to his knees, the ground shaking at the impact. He was shaking even more as the power coursed through him, beams of Light and Dark flaring out of his skin. Opening his eyes once more, he took in Ajunta Pal and the droid, the fleeing form of Marcus. The latter caused him a slight surprise, only slight, as he understood the man had things he felt he must defend.

His arms moved once more, a braided beam of the drained energy flashing across the short distance to Pal, to rejuvenate him. A second flew toward the attacking droid, shuddering against the metal body, unused to trying to ‘heal’ a droid. His brow furrowed as he concentrated, before the solution came. The power slid around the body until it found the recharging port. ”Recharge! Recharge and heal…” he called out, slowly returning to his feet, his still blazing eyes taking in all three of their foes.

Marcus ran.

But while the Jedi Grand Lord had been anticipating the action of the Jedi and Sith opponents, the continued presence of a droid baffled him, and his senses, and he was not ready for it, having expecting Marcus to be doing something -

Tulak Hord's armour seemed to slink off, pieces following Marcus -

He just about refocused as Kazu's hand closed around his throat.

The power boost that Maldael poured into him strengthened it's grip.

Snap.

The old man, for all his greatness and glory, his near-rule of the galaxy, dropped.

The Battle of Chabosh continued around them, on the ramparts, on the plains, a battlefield strewn with dead and broken vessels too.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Tulak Hord

The armour seized upon not Marcus, but Manticore's corpse, taking the body as its own, and standing.

Manticore became the Lord of Hate.

As had been destined all along.

The Shadow Lord of the Sith had outlived the Grand Lord, and the Dark Lord -

No, Ajunta Pall was alive, Maldael was keeping him alive even as Marcus ran -

The Shadow Lord roared, drawing power to him.

A hundred strands of Force Drain erupted from him, orange tethers shattering the battlements and consuming Jedi and Sith -

For the moment his barrage was not impacting Maldael, Ajunta Pall, or Kazu, and Marcus was already running.

Pall - the Ronin - stood shakily, regarding Maldael with thanks.

"We need to go. To run."

Dozens, then hundreds, of Jedi and Sith began to die.

The Shadow, and the Lords, all being decimated.

Drawn inwards -

They ran.

There was only one ship nearby that functioned, of course.

Marcus's, where his daughter now lay, unconscious, but her shadow having receded.

The Plague, in retreat. The Black Knights, defeated. The Grand Lord, dead. Two Empires, crippled or overthrown.

Democracy restored to Coruscant.

All because of them.

But now they had to simply survive.

TAG: @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto, @darthbernael (singles, please), mention for @greyjedi125

 

IC: Maldael Fesh
The Battle of Chabosh

In moments the battle changed once again. Both darkness and light flared and dimmed, the massive struggle they had involved themselves in altering its fabric. All that seemed to remain was a reduced chaotic emperor and now…a reborn Tulak Hord, one who had taken the body of Maldael’s battle brother.

He, Ajunta Pall, and the droid Kazu suddenly found themselves in what could generously be called the eye of the storm. What he’d just been doing was then unnecessary as he’d rejuvenated the Ronin and the reborn Hord was draining every being anywhere near to them.

Seeing Marcus in the near distance, he and the others began to run from the onslaught that Hord had unleashed. His eyes scanned the rubble of the massive battle, bringing a sigh as he ducked, dodged, and leaped over rubble and convulsing Sith and Jedi. For some reason Hord wanted or was letting them leave.

As ravening threads of Force Drain slammed into others as they ran he pulled his own power into himself, using as much as he felt comfortable using to shield himself, to create a shield that would deflect any stray threads of the Drain. Looking over his shoulder he wanted to be sure the droid kept up, it was the only one left that he felt connected to, of all those who had been involved. Pall he felt a kinship to but they had never really interacted, not directly.

However…the ship they were heading for, the man aboard…it would be interesting when they reached the ship, when they were all aboard, and racing to escape this battle. Marcus didn’t exactly like any of them, it felt, and he and Marcus hadn’t had good interactions when they had done so.

All those thoughts sleeted through Mal’s mind as he ran, most of his energy taken with avoiding the Force Drain and racing as fast as he could to the one ship, Marcus’s ship, that seemed capable of escape. It felt like hours passed as he ran even though it only had to have been a pair of minutes.

Finally, he reached the hatch of the ship. Turning, he gestured to Kazu, ”Hurry Kazu, hurry Pall, we need to get free of here, figure out if there is a next step to protect the galaxy.” he called out, before ducking inside the hatch and entering the ship.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto

 

The ship began to rise up, as the maelstrom began consuming lives - a thousand Jedi and Sith.

Whatever Tulak Hord had become, it was Hatred Incarnate.

They were making it to atmosphere when Marcus' daughter cried out.

Her shadow was being left behind.

She was suddenly much lighter, and her face clearer. "Dad?"

Pall, who had made it aboard the ship, was deeply breathing.

"We need to get to hyperspace."

He leaned forward, and input coordinates.

"This is Korriban. The Republic doesn't know where it is."

He eyed them each. "We should hide in the Unknown Regions until the galaxy calms down."

TAG: @darthbernael, @Mitth_Fisto, @CosmoHender

 

IC: Maldael Fesh
Leaving the Battle of Chabosh

As they lifted, as they departed the maelstrom that was what remained of the battle below, Maldael sagged against the bulkhead. He passed what he’d thought were his limits and then passed them again, almost died and was revived, rejuvenated in the course of the battle. And now it was beginning to catch up.

Distantly, he heard what Ajunta Pall was saying, bringing a twisted smile to his face. ”Korriban…I know of that world.” he stated, wearily. ”Might be…best to keep the young lady…”

His ears flicked at the slowly recovering daughter of Marcus, ”Best to keep her…away from the..Valley of the…Dark Lords…”

Slowly, even as he spoke he slumped towards the floor, feeling the ship preparing to jump as his head nodded, weariness overwhelming him.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Qalydon

The Armour of Tulak Hord surrounded the corpse of Darth Manticore, the Zabrak out of time.

He stood.

He regarded the ship in the sky, and the warring Jedi and Sith.

He turned.

He was the Lord of Hate.

But he knew Hunger.

His legacy had been scattered across the length and breadth of his Shadow Empire; he was the Master of the Gathering Darkness.

As he watched the ship flee, his vassal, the Dashade Khem Val, his General, Kallig, and his apprentice, Ortan Cela, they stood besides him.

This piece had been particularly difficult to move into place.

The destruction of the Empire, the overthrow of the Emperor, the restoration of the weak and pliable Senate and True Jedi, the debasement of the Jedi Lords, and the ruin of his fellow Shadow Lords.

The undoing of XoXaan, Syn, Dreypa and Muur had been his true goal.

The Dark Lords were reduced to just one.

The Ronin - Ajunta Pall.

His allies, Kazu, Maldael and Dren, they had done so much for Tulak Hord during their quest for freedom.

He was pleased.

Lifting a hand, he simply fired a bolt at the ship as it crossed the sky.

The moment that they launched into hyperspace was when they were struck.

They jumped with a jerk.

Vanished.

They blacked out.

They awoke above a world in the Unknown Regions.

The stars told them, it was far from Republic Space, distant from the Sith Empire.



It was a paradise world, actually.

The native Lurmen called it Qalydon.

They awoke, inside the ship, impossibly, improbably, safe, as if the Force itself had kept them from dying.

A reward?

Ajunta Pall awoke in the couch, shielded his eyes from the pure sunlight streaming through the cockpit window.

"This isn't Korriban."

There was so much life in the Force.

So much.

Dren's daughter held him, tears in her eyes.

They had survived.

TAG: @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto, @darthbernael (combo)

 

OOC: A bit later than it should have gone up but here it is, the combo...

IC: Maldael Fesh, Marcus Dren, K4-ZU-P8489 or Kazu, Ajunta Pall
Qalydon

Maldael had already been out when they’d been hit. It had jerked him awake again for a moment, only long enough for a slight sense of disorientation to hit him before he passed out once more. When he finally awoke he was still on the floor of the bridge, slumped there. Groaning, still not fully refreshed, he pushed himself to his feet.

Ignoring the others as they too began to wake, he checked the navigation panel. Seeing where they were, as he read the database’s description of the world, he shook his head.

”Well…this certainly isn’t Korriban. That jolt we took must have thrown us slightly off course. The nav says we are at Qalydon.”

Reading further made him snort. ”The information your ship has, Marcus, says it’s a paradise world. I tend not to believe when anything says that though…”

The systems of K4-ZU-P8489 or Kazu slowly came back online. The unit had stayed where it was as it had run a systems diagnostic. The Primary Systems had come back in good working order and a background systems defrag and error debugging was running for all periphery systems keeping them in standby mode. Main systems being cleared it stood and looked at the ships databanks and then at the sky above outside the cockpit window. What was clear skies for humanoid eyes still carries stars, novas, and nebulae for the droids photoreceptors.

"You are correct sir. World is not Korriban, severe lack of technological infrastructure observed. This world is within limits to be qualified as a droid deathworld. An organics paradise often is for droids." Kazu stated with a static clearing hiss from his vocabulary. This world was going to wreck it's motivators first, and unless he was sequestered as a dry cave relic his processors would not be long behind. Without either replacement parts, this unit mastering the Force, or being an heirloom of great care and protection this unit was projected to not last much longer, or possibly even shorter given unforeseen accidents, than the meat-sacks.

As soon as Marcus had awoken, he had gone to his daughter's side. He was now holding Aura close to him, comforting and reassuring her with soft words. Because of this, he didn't answer Maldael right away.

"Qalydon?" Marcus asked. "I've never heard that name before."

He stood up, his daughter in his arms. "Someone should go out and survey the damage. See if escape from this 'paradise' is possible."

Aura was awake, and blinked into the sunlight.

The Ronin sat up from where he had been thrown in the tumult.

"I've never heard of it too." He tapped a button or two on the console. "We're in the Unknown Regions, just about. Between Korriban and the Tion Cluster." They'd all be able to guesstimate where they were, at very least.

"There's no technology on world... it's all... primitive. Paradise."

A small sensor scan shows the natives, in relatively simple garb. Simian like, small, innocent. They were on their way, but there wasn't a weapon, spear or otherwise, among them. Genuine curiosity. The Lurmen, they would discover, were merely that; curious.

"It feels so... warm," Aura said. "Inside and outside."

"Yes, the Force... it shines here," the Ronin said, pressing the dark storm within him down. He had no desire to pollute such an idyllic place. "But yes, the ship's state. The sensors on the bow are damaged, so no readings save for with our eyes." He plucked his lightsaber from his belt, scabbard and all, and paused, before placing it on the floor.

"Anyone coming outside leaves their weapons here."

Kazu simply looked at the Ronin for a moment before responding, “This unit is considered a weapon in most systems.” It simply stated as it moved aside. By that mandate it would not be leaving the vessel.

Marcus thought about it. The natives, according to the sensors, didn't seem dangerous. And even if they did attack him, he could easily find them off without his lightsaber.

"I'll go," Marcus volunteered, putting down both his daughter and his lightsaber. "Depending on the damage sustained to the ship, maybe we'll need the help of the locals."

”The droid…” Mal glanced at Kazu, ”I doubt would survive in that atmosphere anyway.” His attention turned to Marcus and then his daughter, ”I doubt Marcus would be willing to be far from his daughter so fixing the ship makes sense.”

He unclipped his lightsaber, turning to Kazu, ”Remember our discussion? I entrust this to you as you know the significance.” Placing it before the droid he turned back to Ajunta Pall, ”Better two of us go see what these natives are, explore the world, than one on their own.”

The Ronin shrugged, and turned aside to regard the droid. "We will not be long tarrying, if we can." He eyed Kazu. "You should shut-down extraneous power drains, so you can last as long as you can."

Aura didn't let her father go, squeezing his hand as the ramp dropped.

The little creatures were evident, but they were completely harmless. The openness of this place, it was evident, apparent - complete. There was only sunlight, and not a threat whatsoever.

The Force relaxed.

How strange would it feel, after a world and galaxy of war and sentient concerns?

Lit up, Aura giggled at the natives as they chittered excitedly at each other, and then some came forward with fruits of their world.

Marcus looked down at his daughter when he saw that she was not letting him go. After a moment, he decided to lead her outside with him while holding her hand. These creatures did seem harmless.

Approaching the Lurmen, Marcus bent down and picked up one of the fruits, nodding gratefully to the Lurmen, though he didn't eat them or let his daughter eat them... just in case.

"Do any of you speak Basic?" he asked the Lurmen.

They all looked at each other, and an elder looking simian stepped over, picked a fruit off one of the youngsters, and took a bite. A chittering, and a wave of the rather ornate looking walking stick, and the Force seemed to be charged.

Aura blinked. "Oooh."

"Understand you now, we will," the older Lurmen said.

Marcus was taken aback by this. He did not know that the Force was capable of that.

But this place... there was something with this place.

"My name is Marcus," he introduced himself before gesturing to Aura. "And this is my daughter, Aura. I apologize if our ship's arrival gave you a scare."

As they had approached the natives Mal had remained silent. He was observing, taking in all that was going on around them, including his companions. He listened to the initial attempts at conversation and how it stalled for a moment.

His ears twitched when the elder ate the fruit and responded in Basic. Those same long ears twitched again as his mind whirred in thought. At that point he almost spoke but his senses warned him not to yet. What his calculations came up with was that every word, every gesture, any use of power or emotion here was a learning experience to the natives and whatever he and the others did could, potentially, alter the course of the natives entire civilization, at least the parts they interacted with.

Taking a small step over to Pall, he leaned close enough to whisper in a voice he hoped was low enough to not be overheard. ”Every minute detail of us is being watched by these beings, they’re picking up every nuance. We best tread extremely carefully.”

Kazu stayed his position and settled into low power mode, from what was observed so far this unit’s service was not required. Until that changed or was requested it would stay put.

The Ronin ignored Mal, and then turned back inside. He began prioritising repairs, but also looking for a way to charge Kazu, if need be. If the ship could not be saved, Kazu would be needed, inevitably.

The elder of the simians nodded, sagely. "Our kind is aware that we live in a galaxy of stars. In dim and distant past, Outworlders visited us here, on Qalydon." He indicated the staff to Mal. "Come, come, you are different. We celebrate such differences."

Aura was giggling as the youngsters lost the battle to their curiosity and swarmed her, softly patting, cooing, ducking under her legs and pawing at her.

The elder didn't quite smile, but his expression lightened. "I am Oochakoo. The eldest, and wisest, I am." A slight sigh. "Repairs, your sky-vessel will need, yes? We have no metal... apart from in the Ruins."

"Show you, I will. Transportation, do you have? Or require it, do you?"

The grove of trees parted as he turned, revealing, of all things, an immense Bantha.

Mal gave a slightly amused shake of his head as the Ronin left him with the small beings. The way those beings seemed to notice he was different was a curious thing and he decided he’d want to learn more. When the bantha appeared he wasn’t shocked, it was a transport animal, one he’d seen before. The only mild surprise was that he’d not expected it here and, that it was, meant that those ruins had to belong to a, to this planet, xeno society.

Turning to the elder, ”I would be honored, Elder Oochakoo, to ride with you to these Ruins. Whether they have metal that can be used or not, to learn more of your history and visitation by other species could teach us more about your people.” he stated, carefully.

Kazu continued to wait. Unless called or a threat was detected, it would keep in low power mode.

Marcus still maintained some caution, but he couldn't help and give a small smile as he heard his daughter giggle. It was a beautiful sound, indicating that they had indeed left the dark behind.

Although he did catch what Oochakoo said. Ruins?

But as curious as he was, he still had to be cautious. Especially for his daughter.

"These Ruins... are they dangerous?" he asked the elder. "And is there any dangers on your world that we should be aware of?" He gave a respectful nod. "We are but strangers, after all. Any wisdom and knowledge of your home that you wish to share would be welcome and appreciated."

“Kooroo, harmless, they were, and millennia ago they left,” he said. “Star wanderers, but not like you.” He waved to their ship. “Gateways, they said, or, our stories say, to other places. But metal, yes, metal for your ship.”

The Ronin, for his part, began repairs. “Kazu, do you think we can use this ship?”

Aura spoke up. “Daddy, can’t we just stay? It’s safe, alone, here.”

The Ronin stood at the top of the ramp. “I need to get back to Korriban. Tulak Hord still lives.”

Kazu’s modulated voice echoed out of the ship, “This unit is not a starship repair model. Deep analysis will take time, need known positioning to plot proper hyperspace operations. Tools in short standing. Possibilities of success based on organic crew dynamics and knowledge bases, factors of external organics, and ancient tech access pending…odds of success? Would you like comparative odds of ships travel to desired destination verses Kooroo gate travel?” The question held the answer, after all, most organics don’t like hearing the odds.

“Query: If we flee when Horde is decapitated, what success does facing his restoration believe to have?” Kazu deeply desired this information. After all if a concern, why not finish the job when Tulak computationally should be considered in a weaker state.

The comms were open which was why Mal could hear the debate even as he considered what the natives were offering, to explore the ruins. He tried to wrinkle out what the name of the species was that the natives had mentioned. His brow furrowed and his ears quivered as he mentally reviewed his knowledge of the ancient past and species from then.

”Hmmm…I do not know much of the Kooroo but gateways I have heard of.” he muttered to himself. Clicking the comm, ”You may not need the ship, Pall, if the gateways in the ruins are what I suspect they are. If they are even semi functional we could be at Korriban faster than the ship could travel.”

"Either way," Ajunta said, "I want to leave."

He didn't like the idea of exploring, and lingering. "From Korriban I can rally the loyalists, and then we shall stop Hord from seizing the Empire beyond the cradle."

A slight pause. "Kazu, might we use you to repair the ship. Integrate you, even if temporarily, and leave?"

Aura didn't sound overly pleased about that.

Kazu turned his head and ran a limited parts comparison. “Integrity questionable if this unit is used for parts. De-integration questionable. Organics liable to slag units to avoid inconvenience. Time usage to evaluate alternatives recommended.”

“Integrate, not dismantle,” the Ronin said. “I want to keep you as intact as possible, Kazu.”

“De-integration questionable. Organics and convenience during situational stressors make claims to contrary unverifiable.” Kazu restated to that assertion.

The Ronin smiled at that. "I mean if you don't want to extend your consciousness into a whole ship, fine by me."

He turned back to the others.

Kazu made a speaker clearing raspberry noise at that comment. “Derelict shuttle would not be an expansion.”

Marcus considered his options, looking down at his daughter. She wanted to stay here. And perhaps... perhaps that is the right call. If the locals were dangerous after all, he could deal with them. They couldn't be any worse than the Sith and all the horrors that he saw.

"I think... me and Aura will stay here."

Mal’s ears twitched in exasperation. He gave the older native a wry look as he responded on the comms. ”You lot are certainly fixated on a partially destroyed ship. As I said, if these ruins are what I suspect they are there is no need to integrate Kazu into anything or worry about fixing the ship, we’d be at Korriban in the space of seconds. Now are you listening?”

The Ronin glowered. "Fine. Show me your magical discovery."

A tilt of his chin at Marcus and Aura. "Stay, if you wish. But I will not be staying. Understood?"

"Sure," Marcus told the Ronin, his gaze narrow as he held his daughter close to him. "You can leave. But don't come back. And especially don't bring your trouble back to here."

Kazu decided it was time to ask the obvious question. "Am I allowed to show myself to the locals now, carry weapons, or should I stay with the wrecked vessel?"

Mal snorted darkly at the Ronin’s glower. ”You’re ears must be stuffed with something. I have no idea if that is what it truly is, I’m making an…educated guess based on,” he waved a hand at the elder who had mentioned the ruins, ”the elder said of the ruins. But yes, I will set out with them to see if that is what they truly are.”

Hearing Kazu’s comment his eyes lit, a fractional smile crossing his face. ”If you are able to withstand the surface conditions I would be honored if you joined me to study these ruins. You might prove invaluable doing so.” he told the droid.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto

 

The Galaxy turned.

The Age of Empire ended.

The Dark Lords of the Sith were defeated, the High Lords slaughtered, and the Emperor killed.

The Battle of Chabosh saw Tulak Hord emerge as the surviving Shadow Lord of the Sith.

Dreypa vanished into hyperspace, never to be seen again. He ended up crashing, pursued by Jedi, on Kesh. But that is a story for another time.

XoXaan was killed, much like Syn. Her apprentice, his corpse was collected by his acolytes and entombed in the Malachor system. That too, is a tale told in hindsight.

Karness Muur died, but it was said his amulet crawled, quietly, in the infested depths of Taris. The vector of that legend, well, it touched upon Revan, Zayne Carrick, and the Skywalker's thrice.

Qalydon, however, did not have much more time in the sun.

It's ancient-most legacy connected it to a Celestial era portal network, or the remnants thereof, and the natives sent offworlders through, in it's sputtering final gasp. The Shrines of Kooroo, it seemed, had ties to much Older evils, but served one last purpose. That is a given, the narrative need not be told when clear.

Their paths were set.

Some chose to remain.

Some chose to leave.

Among the former, a man and his daughter, who would find peace, meet other humans in time, and Qalydon would become a blessing for them. Marcus and Aura lived long lives. Their descendants, it is said, could be traced to other worlds, and places. Some suggest it eventually took a darker tone and merged with the Knights of Ren. Others, that it settled somewhere in the Outer Rim, becoming old family, and old money, exerting influence in places surprising.

Among the latter, a Dark Lord of the Sith left, by ways unknown. Suffice to say, they ended up, eventually, back on Korriban. Maldael? He vanished. Kazu? Some believe that he is still, even now, guarding the tomb of the Ronin, having inherited his name and title. But the Dark Lord made his way back to the Sith Empire, and he reunified it on the edge of chaos. Most of the original Dark Jedi Masters had been killed, nearly half by the Ronin Heroes, and half by in-fighting.

Tulak Hord usurped that throne, eventually, and, he, too, died for it, becoming as moot as Empire itself.

However, because of Qalydon, the Sith Empire survived.

It had successors.

It had a future.

From that germ came the great infection that entwined the entire galaxy in war, time and time again.

Had the Heroes perhaps turned on the Ronin, together, there and then, they could have killed him.

There would have been no Sith Empire for Tulak Hord to usurp; no seed of darkness to become the frothing cancer it became.

So as much as the actions of these handful of Jedi, Sith, and droid, yes, it brought about nearly two millennia of unprecedented peace...

... it also ensured another five millennium of Jedi-Sith warfare would exist.

Indeed, the Ronin, Maldael, Marcus, and Kazu...

They became, in tales long gone, known as four who upended Empires, slew Lords, and defied the Force itself.

They became, colloquially, and forever, known as...

The Curse of Qalydon​

TAG: @CosmoHender, @darthbernael, @Mitth_Fisto

 

Fin

 

OOC: Many thanks to you each for your time and effort here, and for the future you spun, and the past you saved.

This is undoubtedly not the end of your stories, we all know that.

Whether by descendants, or as an out-of-place Force user, or as a droid wandering the edge of the galaxy forever...

... who knows.

We shall see.

Peace in your time, for centuries, is your reward.

The Age of Empire was killed, the True Sith thwarted.

Congratulations, my friends.