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

OOC: Combo with @Sinrebirth

IC: Marcus Dren

Taris

Marcus had no time for relief as he no longer heard the voice of Karness Muur in his head. He also had no time to plan his next move before the fleet of warships appeared.

And Marcus became alarmed, not because of whose fleet this was. But of the consequences that could potentially arise from such a fleet being in this system.

So rather than try to use his pod's hyperdrive to escape, Marcus answered his comms in order to warn the notorious Remulus Dreypa. Preventing the rakghoul plague from spreading was far more important to Marcus than escape was.

"You can't be in this system!" Marcus shouted. "The entire planet of Taris is infected with a plague that turns people into mindless monsters! These monsters can't be controlled and the plague can't be allowed to leave Taris! We have to quarantine the system!"

Dreypa himself answered. "Insolent fool. Do you think I brought my fleet to take this pathetic backwater?" His warships were splitting to orbit the planet. "Not at all."

They began firing, burning the planet. "Muur's monsters die with him," Dreypa sneered. "The Shadow Lords did not need him." A physical claw shot out from a nearby ship, affixing a cable to Marcus' escape rope. "But you intrigue me, little man. I can't sense Muur... but you stink of him... or perhaps you did."

Marcus sighed in relief when he saw the fleet burning the planet. It had to be done.

"Muur is dead," he told Dreypa. "I killed him and his spirit tried to take my body."

"Of course he did," Dreypa snorted. "He was always a second-hand Sith. Using Syn's amulets, using techniques he stole from the dead Sith Kings. Not a single original thought in his Arkanian head." A snort. "Meanwhile I have just returned from the Sith Empire, seized reinforcements while the Dark Lord plays with the Jedi on Coruscant...and now I am strong enough to stake my claim as Dark Lord of the Sith."

A dry chuckle. "No, I shall be Emperor of the Sith. Not merely one of a dozen fools."

The cable drew him towards the battleship, which loomed large above the escape pod. The pod had merely comms and hyperdrive; no weapons.

The Force would tell Marcus that Dreypa was aboard that ship.

"Tell me your name, so I will know who I am torturing for the truth."

"I am Marcus Dren," Marcus told Dreypa, wondering if the Admiral would recognize that name. "Master of Beasts."

And the one who defeated both Syn and Muur, Marcus thought to himself with a bit of pride. Though with Dreypa, he would obviously have to play it smart.

"Ah. You were at Corbos." Dreypa clearly did. "One of our defeated horde... who didn't stay with us, I presume? Or are you Muur's former apprentice?" His tone was blunt as the escape pod was embraced by the battleship.

"I was never his apprentice," Marcus answered. "I intended to meet with him here and speak to him, but he turned on me and I was forced to kill him before leaving his planet of abominations. I have been laying low since Corbos, but I learned that Muur was here... from Ajunta Pall."

Dreypa's eyes flashed, hard. "You know the Dark Lord's whereabouts?"

His hands became electrified, and he was suddenly besides Marcus. "Tell me; or die."

Marcus managed to remain calm even as Dreypa threatened him. "I don't know where he is right now," he confessed. "But I do know who he is working with... the Emperor himself."

"The Emperor himself?" Dreypa snarled. "What treason is this. Our most hated enemy? The manipulator of the noble throne of Tapani? The tyrant who turned the Jedi into our oppressors?" He began to rage, lightning in his fingers. "Where is he."

Dreypa roared.

"TELL ME."

"I told you I don't know," Marcus replied, staying calm while faced with Dreypa's rage. "And roaring at me isn't going to change that. I am more than happy to cooperate with you, but threatening me isn't going to help."

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

THE BATTLE OF CORUSCANT

Diversion was successful. Chance of success reaching calculable levels. Coruscants energy shields slammed shut.

With Kazu on the inside. Chances of survival once more unable to properly compute.

The droid had a route, of course, following the Dark Lord of the Sith. Like many sith plans, simple and direct once past the initial misdirection. As they neared the target; the Senate District, there was a change.

Sensors blacked out, ships lost their drive, and their two craft dropped like stones, slamming into the broadwalk of Imperial Boulevard. Kazu's own hardened systems stayed online. Kazu ran soft diagnostics as he accessed the ships manual override for its emergency exit - a lever that would activate explosives and forcefully propel the barrier glass away from the craft. The emergency ejector seat was less than useful, but a timed jump softened the droids landing in tandem with the craft. centimeters to spare as it continued its momentum farther than the droid.

The Dark Lord leapt free, but hesitated. He was unharmed, and so he gestured, ripping open Kazu's wrecked ship as if mere fruit-peel.



"Droid! Are you functional!"

Walking around the crafts side that was obscuring the line of sight the droids photo-receptors blinked in annoyance at the question. "This unit is still operational. Emergency exit operated at fifty-percent efficiency. Diagnostic in progress."

The Dark Lord snorted. “Well, all we need is 51% and we’ll be fine.”

The diagnostic revealed a cracked servo, the system concluded, roughly where owns core muscles would be on a sentient. It would making bending over more flexible an arrangement until a fix occurred; and the explosion itself had blown static into his mainframe but that was merely a good defrag/de-clutter from fine. Said program could run in the background for some 2 hours or for ten minutes if shut-down. It would assume position over 15% of his ready memory space, so he could either accept the jangle of processes, or risk it either way.

The Dark Lord had his crimson blade out, the one Kazu would recognise had been placed in a permanent feedback loop; it couldn’t be switched off. He brandished it, indicating with his chin. A surge of twenty Storm Corps were advancing, electrified batons in hand; no blasters were evident, clearly they hadn’t seen Kazu.

But they’d know a second was with the Dark Lord; the two ships had caused all manner of confusion in orbit, with civilian traffic a mess - a skyhook had taken a glancing blow from a freighter that had avoided Kazu’s free-fall, and there were half a dozen small personal craft being wrangled by a police vehicle, ushering them out of the fray. Above that, a trio of Imperial fighters struggled to regroup.

The Dark Lord paid them no heed.

“I wish Bee was here,” he absently rued. Not that he’d wish here on anyone he cared for.

"An insect would not increase survival odds." Kazu stated with some confusion as it's choices were once more made for it. It would have to live with the memory system issues as the defrag ran in the background. "Would you care for a blaster-r-r-r?" Kazu asked as the droid drew one out. Preparing for what would come.

Kazu then turned, and grabbing his sword to brandish in kind it began advancing. "Re-re-trieving. Retrieving weapon. Target one two-one-two-one. ERROR. Kill" With the last his arm raised and a five line of shots aimed toward visors was rapidly unleashed.

Five shots meant five dead Storm Corps, and they broke into a charge, a roar following. The Dark Lord intentionally stepped between Kazu and the attackers, setting himself so that his blade was pointed at a forty-five degree angle to his waist, one hand firmly on the hilt, the other angled, as if he was lightly palming a weight.

“No errors,” he said, firmly, and the tide of plasteel armour reached him. “For the Sith!”

The first baton he deflected at the tip with the base of his blade, stepping into the attack and as his foe lost control of the length of the weapon he slashed open his helmet -

Side-stepping the tumbling corpse he brought his blade back up to guard and carried through, expertly slashing through both wrist and chest cavity of the next -

His hand came free to divert an electrified baton, a grimace to his face and he pivoted, his blade catching the next foe at the throat and his flourish downed the third enemy -

The fifth lunged, thinking the Ronin exposed -

The entire moment had covered less than two minutes but that was two minutes more time for Kazu -

And so the Force touched his feet and he leapt up, the Storm Corps looking up, forgetting Kazu -

Two quicker warriors didn’t, reaching for blasters -

Behind the line of white plasteel a single soldier stood out, his armour marred with an orange pauldron over his left shoulder, a wicked looking disruptor pistol in his off-hand, tracking the soaring Sith -

Kazu took in the carnage as struggling with combat routines for the present situation. The mental lag of the situation was detrimental, but the Sith was proving useful in that regard.

Noticing the trooper in the back and the weapon wielded an audible *ding* resounded, “Upgrade detected.”

Without further preamble combat scenario desh was implemented. Leadership neutralization and acquisition. Running forward blasting the target with the orange ‘shoot me’ shoulder patch, followed by the two drawing weapons, before spinning with blade at neck height of whomever else was between this unit and that weapon.

The droid leapt from ready to attack so swiftly that the Storm Corps could be forgiven for forgetting him for a moment, but not when his bolts caught their leader in the pauldron -

A target indeed.

A trooper lost his head, and another, and in that time another reached down for the leaders disruptor rifle -

Similarly, two Storm Corps of similar build split to either side of Kazu and stabbed high and low -

A moment before their necks unceremoniously snapped -

All of a sudden the survivors were fleeing, even as the now-disruptor-weilding trooper swung towards Kazu -

Kazu had seen the two attacks, it was perfectly coordinated. Unfortunately being able to process the danger, was not the same as being able to process a way to deal or avoid said danger. Of course here was where that Sith came into effect once more, covering for Kazu's programming runtime errors. As the disrupter trooper turned to him and the others fled, Kazu simply executed the most basic subroutine of all.

Side step and shoot, otherwise known as a strafing action. Kazu honestly did not have the processing power for anything more elaborate. Especially after choosing to speak, "Property acquisition in pro-proc-process-ess. *ERROR* Please die and relinquish weapon."

The bolt caught the man in the throat, and the disruptor clattered to the ground. The Dark Lord gestured with his free hand, and a gout of lightning fountained forth and struck down the fleeing Storm Corps.

The Boulevard was open.

The way was clear.

The Ronin regarded Kazu. “Well?”

Pausing to allow for lag before moving again was an annoyance. "This unit requires ten minutes of shutdown to clear system error-ERROR." With a functional design Kazu bent down and removed the weapon from the dead trooper before moving to the one with the orange target that he had taken down. Grabbing the troopers holster he lashed it to his own droid equivalent of a calf. Pausing he slowly put the disruptor in its holster.

Standing Kazu turned back with a solemn nod, as a chime sound echoed and a muffled 'Upgrade unlocked! Leave no trace!'

"This unit needs ten minutes to clear error. Can continue at re-re-reduced efficiency otherwise." With a double nod he moved to follow the Sith. Shutdown it knew would have to wait. No battle would wait ten minutes for a droid to 'clear its head' after all. Meat sacs wouldn't kill themselves. Not the right ones anyway.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

OOC: Combo with @Sinrebirth

IC: Marcus Dren

Taris

Marcus allowed a smile as he felt the Light coming from the arriving Jedi, recognizing them as his True Jedi allies rather than his Jedi Lord enemies.

"About time," he said under his breath.

However, his smile wavered when he recognized his daughter's Light and he realized that they had brought her with them, despite them heading into battle with the Sith, whom Marcus had wanted to keep as far away from his daughter as possible.

Fools...

But there was something else. Another presence that he recognized. It took him a moment to figure out who it was, despite how familiar the presence felt to him. After all, so much time had passed since he had last seen her. It had been before the Dark Jedi found Marcus, to be exact.

No, Marcus thought. It couldn't be...

And yet it was his younger sister, Auranae.

After getting over his initial shock, Marcus realized that he had to move quickly, especially since Dreypa's attention was elsewhere.

He made a mad dash across the hangar bay, toward the nearest starfighter. Of course, flying it with one arm wouldn't be an easy task. But he would have to manage.

Dreypa let him go; he had ordered fighters to be launched, after all, and Marcus was doing exactly as he was told. Another Sith ship abandoned made no difference to him -

The starfighter was alien tech, but it was lain out like any craft, albeit it was designed for someone left-handed, a strange consideration unless everyone who flew it was left-handed, of course. Most ships were decidedly ambidextrous, after all!

The warship shook with damage, and then with the motions of turning, seeking a hyperspace jump, as other battleships erupted across the ambush -

Realizing what the warship was about to do, Marcus wasted no time. He forced himself to learn the controls of the starfighter quickly and was soon flying it out of the hangar and toward the Jedi ships.

Though that did leave the problem of whether the Jedi ships would shoot him on sight or not while he was in a starfighter belonging to their enemy...

The Jedi starfighters for the moment had their hands full torpedoing the engines of the Sith battleships, but all of a sudden reality snapped and streaked, as the flagship of Dreypa ripped into hyperspace, a detonation at the last moment adding a sense of shattering to the jump, but nonetheless Jedi freighters and starfighters and personal starships launched after them.

Their coordinates? Somewhere far east, in galactic terms, beyond the borders of the Old Republic, and far beyond the Empire, into the Unknowns.

In a short moment, there was merely the under-crewed Jedi carrier and Marcus, and the burning hulks of the rest of Dreypa's new fleet. It was over, in essence. The remainder Sith fighters swirled, before returning to their dying motherships, for none of them had hyperdrives.

The comms crackled once.

"Marcus?"

Marcus quickly answered the comms. "Yes, this is Marcus," he confirmed. "Who is this?"

"Har, har, very funny," Auranae said. "Shall I shoot down your starfighter while you pretend not to know who I am?"

In Marcus's defense, his sister had only been a child when she has left him more than two decades ago. So of course he didn't recognize her voice at first. But he knew it was her and he bit his lip.

"Auranae..." he whispered, his voice sounding like it was about to break. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you, and looking after my niece, apparently..." Her own voice cracked a little. "Come on, we need to get out-system. Those coordinates, they were random but we may be able to track them..."

Marcus just nodded. He couldn't believe that he was hearing her voice again after all this time. There was so much he wanted to say to her, yet he didn't have the courage to say any of it.

"Understood," he responded simply instead.

They docked, and standing at a safe distance, but clearly desperate to come and rush towards her father, was his daughter, his sister holding her hand. The moment Marcus touched the deck, the child broke free and ran, tears in her eyes.

Marcus eagerly embraced his daughter with his remaining arm, smiling warmly as he managed to resist breaking into tears as well.

"Hey, Aura," he said in a warm tone.

Words could not describe how good it felt to touch her once again.

"I missed you, Daddy, so so so much -" She was almost blubbering. "I'm sorry -"

"Hey, hey," Auranae said, stepping up but dropping to her haunches. "It's okay, it's okay." Her eyes drifted to the missing limb, and she slightly steered Aura away from the arm. "Hi, bro."

Marcus looked down, unable to look his half-sister in the eyes. "Hello, Auranae..." he said before turning back to his daughter. "Uh, Aura, has this woman told you who she is?"

"Auntie Auranae, apparently, but I didn't really believe her because I was supposed to be safe with the Jedi and I don't feel safe so that means lies are normal and I don't like lies," Aura said, gabbling.

"Well... she's telling the truth," Marcus told her. "Aura, this is my sister Auranae. She's your aunt and the woman that I named you after."

"So where has she been all this time?" Aura said, smartly.

Auranae looked at her brother, unsure how to respond. She mouthed. Up to you.

Marcus hesitated. "I... I don't know," he admitted, looking down at his daughter. "Auranae left with her mother a long time ago. They chose their own path while I walked down mine. The path I chose eventually led me to meeting your mother. But Auranae..." He looked up at his sister. "I have no idea where her path took her in those years, only that it has brought us together now."

You have a lot of explaining to do, sister.

"I promise I'll explain when we've gotten all the Shadow Lords," Auranae said, and checked her comm-chrono. "We were going to follow the rest of the Jedi and chase down Dreypa, but we've got a location on two more unaccounted-for Sith Lords. Master Tedryn wants us to track them down."

She paused. "Syn died in captivity, Marcus. Poisoned. We think she did it to herself."

Marcus was silent for a moment, processing what she had said.

"Good," he decided. "Then she won't ever get the chance to hurt Aura again."

He then remembered something. "What about Lithana? Where is she? Is she okay? Or how about Falcon?"

"Lithana went missing shortly after Syn died," his sister said, grimly. "Falcon?"

Aura pulled a face. "Are we going into danger again?"

Marcus frowned before turning to his daughter. "No," he told her. "I... I think I've had enough. I've done my part for the True Jedi and I made my sacrifice." He gestured to the stub where his arm had been. "And now I'm done. I don't want to be separated from my daughter again."

Auranae nodded with sadness. "We all have. I agree, we should get out of all this. Now we're back together… but after I track down mother's killer." Her voice was firm, and pained.

This caught Marcus by surprise. "Y-your mother's killer?" he asked, tripping over his own words slightly. He looked down. "I've missed a lot, obviously..."

"We'll explain later," Auranae could hear the engines of the carrier humming. "If we're leaving, we need to take that ship now." She pointed at a nearby vessel, left unattended.

It was Marcus' own ship, recovered and repaired after the skirmish at the blockade line.

Marcus nodded and held his daughter closely with his remaining arm. "Let's leave then," he said. "Also... I'm probably going to need a new arm at some point."

"We'll pick one up somewhere," Auranae said, determined. "The true Jedi have had enough of my life, and yours, and now we're going to take back."

"Yeah!" Aura said, agreeing. "No more scary trips. Just us adventuring!"

"One last adventure," Auranae said as the ramp lowered, "and then we can settle down somewhere, far away from Empires and Sith."

Marcus nodded, but he hid a frown.

It sounded good. Too good.

And somehow he doubted that he would be let go from all of this so easily. He thought he had left it behind once more and he was wrong then.

So what about now?

TAG: @Sinerbirth

 

IC: K4-ZU-P8489 or Kazu, The Dark Lord, B5-56 or Bee ~A COMBO~
Battle of Coruscant

Ajunta Pall reset his blades before a tweet sounded out. “Oh, so you were here.” He said, grousing as he turned, a droid unit advancing forward from the shadows of the nearby streets that edged the boulevard. “Kazu, meet Bee - B5-56.”

An inferior mech unit trundled out. Kazu had to fight his programming to not retort about it, and in his reduced capacity was left silent without extra processing power. The Dark Lord looked away, down the concourse. “He’ll have you fixed up in no time.” He was looking at Jedi. A dozen of them. Green, blue, yellow and even purple blades were evident, and the Dark Lord of the Sith rolled his shoulders.

“Don’t be long.”

At that, he rushed forward.

The little astromech sounded concerned, and turned to Kazu, scolding him for leaving his master unassisted.

Kazu turned his main eye to the little droid. "System defrag required. Unable to opper-rate at sufficienc-suffient levels to handle present threat levels. Ten minutes self shutdown diagnostic required. Time unavailable. Can you assist that I might - MURDER DEATH KILL -" a motor spasm-ed causing his torso to twist, "assist?"

The droid tweetled sarcastically that he’d best be able to help or his master would be dead and he’d be blaming Kazu.

When was the last time he had a shutdown cycle? His systems scanned like he’d been kept under sand for two decades. The droid opened up a variety of ports to prepare for engagement with Kazu.

Kazu beeped back at the droid letting it know that it's assessment was imprecise but not wrong. Last shutdown cycle was a forced ionic blast, previous was shutdown for upgrades, prior was buried in sand for extended period due to weapon blast. Proper shutdown for functional stability?

. . . .

System registers time code error.

Kazu opened his ports to allow engagement with service unit.

The droid whistled in annoyance.

Assassin droids. So stubborn that they simply carried on without maintenance. No wonder they developed errors and were considered meat-and-flesh personalities like deranged or murderous.All they ever needed was a good defragging.

With a chittering chuckle, he set to work.

Kazu would be frozen in-place, only able to watch as the Dark Lord swiftly and brutally cut his way through one, two, three Jedi Lords. He grinned as he did, relish in his eyes, his motions violent and jagged, not at all precise, merely leaving most of his opponents bleeding out on the duracrete, still threats, if they had the ability or power of mind to fend off the pain he had inflicted.

Kazu had a great desire to move, to do, but he could not. He could not even think of what he would do if he could. Defrag was in process and his want to raise a weapon and fire at the fallen to illuminate the falling threats of Jedi permanently was so engrained in his coding that he still wanted to, even if he could not process the desire.


The Jedi Lords fell, leaving the way into the Temple clear. Breathing heavily, Pall looked back. “Well?”

Bee ejected his port, and whistled. It’ll do.

Indeed, Kazu was back to 90% efficiency. Bee responded to that. I’m only as good as the droid I work on, and your systems look like they’ve been through a chop-shop on Kijimi.

The entrance loomed, and defragged sensors would tell Kazu that the Jedi Lords were in motion, assembling inside the building instead of exposing themselves on the Boulevard.

Did you sample my systems memory? My systems were upgraded as described! This unit could not fault the smaller droid and began the process of working on his own systems remaining errors as well as running a subroutine diagnostic to make sure no new directives had been implanted by the little droid.

Still, raising the disrupter it aimed at a Jedi that was still moving and fired. Aiming to pick off any signs of life in as brutal and destructively effective manner as possible. "This unit is operating at 90-% efficiency. Status acceptable."

The surviving Jedi withdrew into the building, and the Ronin gestured for him to follow. It was a cavernous entry point, and he held up his palm for Kazu to hold. Jedi began dropping from balconies in the atrium, and he began to identify High Lords.

“Tell me when they’re all here.”

Ignoring the two, three, no four dozen Jedi Lords…

Kazu stepped forward and paused upon seeing the gesture. Not because it was a command, but because you ignored such things at one's own peril with the Sith and to a more indirect manner with the Jedi.

Kazu gave a dip of his large dome in acknowledgement of the order and the implication. Preparing his weapons he took up a position at the doorway where his sensors would have the best angle to observe all comings into the room and so that the Jedi would not be able to hide. Drawing his black sword he prepared for the fight to begin. He would not charge, his presence was all the challenge he would give, it would be up to the Jedi to attack as he would hold the line here. Let them show their hypocrisy, this unit stood a better survival chance that way.

The Jedi ignited blades - green, blue, yellow, pink, purple, even one or two white.

The Ronin sheathed his lightsaber and stood tall.

Bee tweeted nervously.

There was a rumbling in the Force, and the Ronin still didn't move.

Behind them, visible in spite of the sunlight at its back, and extremely apparent to the sensors of Bee and Kazu...

A shuttle was bearing down on their position.

"Stand firm," the Dark Lord whispered.

Kazu did nothing to acknowledge the situation and obeyed the order. This unit would not move to attack and would not retreat. The line had been drawn.

The shuttle smashed into the entrance behind them.

It creased across the floor, stopping right behind the three of them - the Dark Lord, the war droid, the astromech.

The ramp slammed to the floor, millimeters from the back of his boots.



"GO!"



A roar, and suddenly they weren't outnumbered.

Kazu noted the moment of the crash, tracked the optics of the Jedi, and as soon as the word go was released and the charging Sith gave a war cry - the disruptor turned marginally from its lowered position and the droid opened fire at the mid Jedi lines groins. Just below the resting lightsaber pommels positions.

It was an attack at the odd angles due it possibly to catch the unaware and most stunned members. Also shooting at that position decreased the chance the Jedi would be able to block and deflect any attacks back at the droid, as well as giving a chance that any stunned and negligent blocks might actually be deflected into the forward Jedi line in front of them.The droid would attempt to attack with the middle forces of the Sith, a second wave to kill enemies that others were engaged with.

One Jedi was disintegrated almost immediately, and another managed to adjust but the bolt could not be deflected -

The distraction meant that the Dark Lord removed his head, and then plowed through the line -

The Sith, mostly red-skinned in nature, regarded the droid with wonder, as they charged and crashed into the Jedi lines -

In the midst of the melee a Jedi Master, a human with a narrow expression and top-knot, booted a Sith corpse at Kazu and used the Force to yank at the disruptor in his grip as Bee screamed a warning -

Kazu's programming kicked into overdrive, utilizing the recovered operating capacity to respond to this new threat. Unfortunately for the Jedi, this units Sith programming was more than prepared for contingencies that saw the use of alterative attack methods. Furthermore, it did not matter whether the body was merely wounded or dead, and so Kazu had not bothered to even check for such data before responding.

Slashing upward Kazu with a slight twist of his sword set to bisect the body and send it tumbling harmlessly to either side of him. At the same time he spun his body underneath that raised sword arm, turning the pull of the disrupter away from him into a pull of it into him for a moment to better affix his grip. Knowing lower level or off-guard Jedi would slack in their pull with broken line of sight it stabbed forward into that pirouette that would make a Twi'lek slave girl jealous. With that stab it also attempted to fire at the Jedi in questions foot with the disruptor.

The Jedi couldn't do everything, and yes, was arrogant enough to release what he could not see. His foot twitched to avoid the shot, but the blade came a micro-second after and stabbed into and through the Jedi, who immediately gasped blood over his photoreceptors -

Bee tweetled a war cry and rushed between Kazu and a second Jedi who had tears in her eyes - the other's lover? - and she had a twin handed swing coming. Bee hurtled into her, barrelling her over, a moment before a space seemed to open in the violence to allow an older Jedi - a Herglic - to pad forward, an oversized lightsaber hilt in hand; a orange-bladed light-club.

An a quick shake was initiated to dislodge the viscera from this units photoreceptors non-stick surfaces. Honestly the droid had seen success as a small chance and had misdiagnosed how that success would come about. Still he fired again as soon as his sword was removed to verify the Jedi was dead.

This seemed to upset another Jedi who the astromech then moved in to antagonize. Shooting at that ones legs behind Bee's run them over technique to keep the distraught form down. She could make a good Sith convert, but Kazu's programming did not allow such protocols of identifying and bringing potential future recruits to others attentions whilst letting them live during multi combatant live fire combat situations. Survival was supreme.

Kazu continued his pivot to look at the now approaching new combatant and shifted his stance. A wide bracing was exchanged for an angled approach with feet at a 90 degree angle. No attack could be directly blocked against a lightclub, Kazu was not an loadlifter and so did not have the requisite mass and strength of servos for such a confrontation. Instead blows would need to be deflected to the sides, or avoided. Opportunistic shots would be taken, but with the size of the other Kazu held no delusions that a single shot would take the Jedi out.

The Herglic suddenly rushed forward, his size belying his speed. Swinging the lightclub at the widest part of Kazu - his shoulders - he was unerring in his focus and resolve -

This is where the issue of not being an organic was allowed to shine. Kazu bent at the waist on his spread and angled legs, head rotating up so that the lightclub would flow harmlessly over his chassis as he fired his weapon from under that chassis at the charging Herglic groin, his sword dipping down and rotating up behind the lightclub to push it faster and harder on it's spin to put the Herglic off balance.

The Herglic planted his feet with the Force and didn’t pass overhead, so while the shot missed, the sword motion meant the Jedi had to take a timely step back before he reoriented and chopped down, overhead -

Lifting one leg a centimeter off the ground Kazu timed his servos to rotate and spin his body to the side and out of the way toward the backed off Herglic, allowing the sword arm extended forward to slice across the Jedi's knees. Once spun it would snap upright and quick step backward while shooting at it towards the blowhole.

The Herglic took a swift step back, wincing as a blade tip nicked his ankle -

His elbow lifted and lightsaber blade blocked the shot, and the free hand thrust out, sending a Force wave at the droid -

Letting itself be swept up in the Force push Kazu went away from the larger opponent. This was a calculated chance. If it could use this randomization to land near or kill other Jedi by swinging it's sword during its backwards flight, or shooting other embattled Jedi he flew past it would be worth it.

Two Jedi were shot in the necks, and another lost an arm to Kazu and a head to the Sith he was fighting.

A rumble of the ground heralded that the massive Herglic had leapt after Kazu, leaving a shockwave impact where he had pushed off the floor -

Kazu was successful in reducing enemy combatants as well as freeing up allies in this conflagration. This increased the odds that a Sith in turn would try to steal the kill of this now wounded Herglic Jedi. Dropping a small remote explosive that would merely try to injure the Jedi on landing as Kazu leapt back to be clear of that landing site was perhaps a poor choice given that chance, but when fighting a lightclub wielder this units programming did not compute an appreciable level to consider overkill.

While jumping back Kazu also fired his disruptor at the large beings feet, as it rapidly armed its flame thrower for the next stage of confrontation.

The Jedi tucked his feet in and then down to avoid the shot as he landed, slashing down with his mighty lightclub as Kazu prepared the flamethrower, too slow, too slow, his processor not yet up to it -

A screech of droidspeak!

A series of whistling noises and a pattering of missiles caught nearby Jedi, and the Herglic inverted his blade to deflect one projectile at the last moment -

Kazu did not have the spare processing power to curse his own processors, nor the fellow astromech for not being able to perform a more thorough job. Merely recognize the most likely outcome and spew out one word - Too slow.

The unknown screech was lost in the din of battle, the projectiles were not. The independent processors for his visual uptakes were able to mark and track the projectiles, informing his overloaded main processor the aid. The inversion of the blade created an opening. Kazu finished arming his flame projector and leapt at the Herglic's back, aiming to skewer him through the necks spinal column with his sword as a grasp point to leverage himself higher to blow his flame projector down through the Herglic's blowhole.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: K4-ZU-P8489 or Kazu

The flamethrower was effective. It was th
Indeed, it was all over.

There were dozens of dead Jedi upon the floor.

Mandalorians and Imperial troopers had made up the rest of the assault force, and the Dark Lord of the Sith now stood among the wreckage, as Sith rampaged across Coruscant.

A temporary victory that was more wasteful than not. A show of strength the Sith were so enamored with in proving the weakness of the Empire if the Jedi could be massacred and that they in turn had pawns to spare on such things. More effective verses the table than the military, but with the Jedi and the military mutilated it was a safe bet rabble would fill enough seats this would have an impact.

So the Empire wouldn't be what they rebuilt.

The Ronin sat heavily, regarded Kazu.

His astromech beeped gratefulness.

"Now what," the Ronin said, heavily.

He looked to a droid for guidance. This unit did not expect to meet such intelligence from him.

“We save / steal value. Insure visibility of destruction. Evacuate important personnel, assign expendable or evasive personnel to spread out in chaos.”

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

OOC: Combo with @Sinrebirth

IC: Marcus Dren

Chabosh Orbit

Marcus looked down at his daughter and sighed, his hand gently brushing her hand. He then turned to gaze at his new artificial arm, which they had picked up at Obroa-Skai. It would take some getting used to, obviously.

Finally, he managed to look his sister in the eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. He knew that it was his fault that her mother was dead. "I'm sorry about your mother... and about everything else."

"Sorry," she repeated. There was an edge to her voice, but she let it go with a visible and audible sigh. "Marcus, you're not to blame for everything that goes wrong in the galaxy." A slight smile. "Just most of it."

She indicated out the viewport, and the clouds which had parted to show the siege. "I can't blame you for this, for example."

There were a lot of things Marcus wanted to say to his sister. Too many. He didn't know where to start, so instead he stayed quiet, returning his gaze to his daughter.

He wondered if they would ever truly be able to live in peace.

The ship held above the battlements, primarily a battle between forces of Jedi and Sith.

It was if the war had never ended, and instead had been fought out here, in the very Rim, for the whole twenty years since the Battle of Corbos.

His daughter watched, and twitched, in time with the flickering of life.

"What are we going to do, Dad?"

Marcus sighed and looked back toward Auranae. "I think we should follow your aunt's lead on this," he said.

"How about we abandon ship and ram this into the mess?" She grinned, vengeance in her eyes. "We'll cut down Jedi Lords and Sith too, and teach them all a lesson; that the ordinary people of this galaxy have had enough."

Marcus was caught off guard by this suggestion and he looked back down at his daughter. She shouldn't be here.

"That feels like too big of a risk," he pointed out. "We'd lose the ship and anything could happen to us while we're in an escape pod. I don't think teaching the Lords and Sith a lesson would be worth that."

His sister shook her head, hard. "We need to break the wheel; it's been a hundred and thirty years of this, Jedi, Dark Jedi, True Jedi, Sith, Jedi Lords... whatever it is, its people with power and people without power wanting it. If we don't stomp down on it now, this war could last millennia."

"Then we're not going to be the ones to stop it," Marcus pointed out. "It's too big now. Us crashing this ship into theirs will just cause more deaths." He shook his head. "And I think it may already be too late. That's why I wanted to take my daughter away from this and get her to somewhere safe... but instead I've brought her here, to the frontlines."

"You owe me," his sister said, firmly.

Marcus narrowed his eyes at his sister. "I owe my daughter more," he pointed out as he asked himself why he was even here and why he had brought his daughter here. Guilt? Vengeance? The latter was absolutely what his sister wanted... which didn't seem like the Auranae that he remembered, considering her reaction to when he had killed their father.

"We shouldn't be here," he suddenly realized.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

A brief and very enjoyable combo with @Sinrebirth & @darthbernael

*thank you both for your great patience*

---

IC: Maldael, Manticore, and the Emperor
The death of the Sith Lord

Maldael could feel the ripples in the Force caused by the multitudes of Jedi, could feel the Sith below as well. He was only partially listening to the Emperor, another voice in his mind was speaking or, at least, sending him thoughts, images, glimpses of potential futures depending on the outcome of this battle.

His battle brother was by his side and he could feel the eagerness of Manticore to resolve the situation. With a nod to Manticore he turned back to the Emperor, "Simple enough….in theory. Execution of the plan is another story, however."

One long fingered hand gestured at the planet below, ”So…we drop directly onto the Sith fortress? Take them all out and watch the attack falter?” There was a touch of sarcasm in his questions, knowing that doing so would mean almost certain death before they even reached the battle, both the Jedi and Sith would be willing to blow their craft from the sky rather than face them.

”Or are we to sneak in, killing all in our path to reach Tedryn?”

The Emperor shrugged. "We cut out way through the Jedi lines, or the Sith ones. A fortress gives us ample opportunity to set up a trap for Tedryn, of course." His eyes glittered maliciously. "And we could be welcomed by the Sith, to start, but not necessarily the Jedi... unless you wish to lean on your prior profession, rather than current."

Manticore took it all in. The great conflict unfolding before them, the various opportunities beckoning to them, the battle song resonating within his very being, to such a degree that it made him shiver with expectation. He was near bursting with obsessive desire.

“Tedryn.” He snarled through curled obsidian colored lips.

“I’ll decimate his precious jedi, before I end him.”

The glint of revenge in the zabrak’s eyes seemed to pulse, as he half glanced at his brother and the Emperor in regards to their campaign.

“Do as you will. Once the jedi have been dealt with, we can focus on the rest.”

A solid nod is given as Manticore lowers himself, coiling his form and gathering the force about him, to enter into a force sprint. The Lord of Hate, wished to be unleashed.

All the Emperor needed to do, was to give the word.

Mal nodded, it was a plan, not a great plan, but he could feel the need in his brother, the need to destroy the one they’d come to kill. Moving up beside him, ignoring the Emperor, ”Don’t let your need for vengeance blind you to danger, my brother.” he said softly, laying a hand on Manticore’s shoulder.

”That being said…’ He pulled out one of his saber hilts, cradling it loosely in one hand as his other dropped from his brother’s shoulder, lightning beginning to crackle between his fingers, ”If we kill them all there’s no immediate,” he glanced sidelong at the Emperor, ”danger to worry about.”

With that, he stepped forward another step, ”Play the kill count game, my brother?” he asked with a feral grin coming across his elfin features.

The fortress loomed before them, and the four entrances were besieged by a hundred Jedi each, defended by half that number of Sith each; and most of them were mere acolytes, hordes drawn from Korriban or the defeated masses from Corbos.

The Jedi camp was dotted around the fortress, with a single primary camp. The Emperor issued the relevant codes, and his ship slid past the orbital blockade; which was mostly fighters anyway. They would be upon the Jedi Lord's camp shortly. The light shone unpleasantly, and the Emperor's ship turned a baleful eye upon it.

We are grounded; a retinue approaches.

Storm Corps troopers; sixteen of them, and two Jedi Lords.

No Tedryn in sight yet.

Mal took in the sight of the gathered troops, the approaching Jedi and retinue. He glanced at Manticore, could feel his need to advance into battle. Glancing back at the Emperor, he wondered what that being’s true final purpose was, but now they needed to deal with the foes that wanted them dead.

Turning back, he smiled, his eyes beginning to glow. A lightsaber hilt dropped into his right hand as his left hand flexed, opened. ”To battle, my brother, although it is slightly vexing that they believe two alone, even with troops, could stop us.” he murmured.

Stepping forward, the saber ignited, a golden glow filling the area. The smile turned cold, the remembrance of battle upon battle filling his mind, his ‘guest’ only sending images that showed that what they did now would not affect his further mission that much.

With a nod, he continued to advance, waiting to see what the Jedi and their troops would do, if they’d prove their own hypocrisy by initiating the attack.

Manticore grunted and nodded in acknowledgement to his battle brother and the Emperor.

He understood their words, and in essence, agreed.

Not all the pieces were present upon the field, therefore, it would not do for him to be blinded by his lust for battle. The time to indulge would present itself, lest his burning desire be used against him.

For now, they were to focus on drawing out their true target: Tedryn.

That could only be accomplished by a careful and surgical decimation of his jedi forces.

Best to begin by wiping out the Storm Corp troopers.

Their cries should prove, motivational.

Manticore felt the moment blossom into being, even as Mal ignited his weapon, his saber releasing its golden blade. Manticore leered, with predatory malice burning in his veins. Suddenly, he dashed forward, speeding like a shot, then veered to the side, fully intending on flanking the advancing enemy and drawing their fire to himself.

Tag: @Sinrebirth, @darthbernael

 

IC: K4-ZU-P8489 or Kazu
Coruscant, aftermath

The Empire folded. Kazu noted Primary Objective as completed. It had been decapitated by the swift and sure strike of the Alsakani and Corellians, and at the tip of that spear was a Dark Lord of the Sith, a Sith wardroid, and his trusty astromech.

The Jedi Temple burned around Ajunta, Kazu and B5-56 as they accessed its computer systems, its vaults, its secrets.

They found a Gun of Command, phrik armour-plates, extremely illegal cryo grenades, protosabers, Forcesabers and Holocrons of long dead Masters, Lords and Dark Jedi. Pall didn't take any of it. Kazu took the weapon, armour-plates, and grenades. These had possible use in personal advancement. The rest were left, it already had acquired the Saber club of the Jedi it had killed and any additional units as wasteful of carry capacity and detrimental to this units functionality. Same for the holocrons that as far as this unit was aware would serve no purpose and be unable to be bartered without betraying this units status as an enemy to either factions underlings.

They found secret hyperlanes into the Deep Core as far as the ancient world of Tython, and routes into the deep Unknown Regions to Jedha, Metellos and even the fabled Ahch-To. Data on mythical systems like Ixegul, Rhand, Lehon... lost, but even their names were incredible treasures. This, Pall dug into and Kazu catalogued.

B5 - Bee - beeped.

He had of course hacked the Imperial mainframe, going galactic with the modern Jedi beacon system that the Lords had strung across the galaxy as a second HoloNet. Ajunta Pall hadn't known about it, and was content to use and abuse it before he directed Bee to break it. "What is it, Bee?"

A short update; the Jedi Lords had been leading sieges against Sith incursions at Yn and Chabosh, the former in the Inner Rim on the opposite side of the Core - a worrying deployment - and the latter deep in the Unknown Regions to the north, not all too far, they now knew, from Ord Mantell and Dantooine, isolated worlds in the depths there.

"Yes, I know," the Dark Lord said, impatiently.

Well Bee was worried because all contact had been lost with the Yn contingent.

This wasn't like the steady stream of retreating Imperial ships, fleeing for the Tapani Sector, or consolidating across the Core and Inner Rim at Tinnel, Denon, Humbarine, Commenor and Rendilli, no, this was different. The entire Yn force, well over a thousand Jedi, had just vanished.

"And Chabosh?"

The Jedi, bolstered by Master Tedryn and the True Jedi, were still fighting there.

The Dark Lord paused.

"Gather yourself, Kazu, we are going to Chabosh."

"Understood." Kazu stated as he began a short data mining expedition for any possible war-droid projects the Jedi had in their data-banks. If there was anything he could remotely command, control, or even adapt software from he would in whatever time was allowed prior to their departure. That was his plan, only as soon as he disconnected from the network having left a worm to continue searching the archives he felt an error in his programming. It was a recursive algorithm that was scanning through his system, but at the same time was staying ahead of his own ability to compute. It was like his entire memory core was undergoing a data sweep, his processing programs were being edited, and his system was noting an additional quantum entangled data node that led to nowhere.

Literally nowhere.

With jittering shakes Kazu warbled in distress for several moments before collapsing to his knees and then forward to hands that had barely reacted in time to catch himself.

A small chime echoed from within himself as he began to note the presence of new software and coding. Efficiency was up across the board!

To the Dark Lord Kazu turned his head. "Upgrade successful? Time locked message received for Ajunta. This unit would not find an droid smith nor armour smith remiss for upgrades during journey."

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

A deliciously fun combo with @Sinrebirth & @darthbernael

**********

Manticore, Maldael & the Emperor
Battle of Chabosh, Abattoir

Half-the Storm Corps fell. Had he even noticed?

All too easy…

Manticore huffed in distaste, still unsatisfied.

“Coruscant has fallen…” The Emperor informed.

“…and no wonder.” The zabrak called out over his shoulder at the trailing being, one hand gesturing at the ‘poor defense’ and ‘meager resistance’, at least in his estimation. As for the Jedi Lords? He felt robbed that he’d had no opportunity to dispatch any of them, however, they still had Tedryn to contend with.

And what was this business about the ‘last’ Shadow Lord of the Sith?

Setting the stage? for what exactly?

This all seemed strangely familiar somehow- there was something secret taking place below the surface.

What else was new?

Hmph!

Now the remaining Storm Corps were in retreat, firing physical bullets instead of the laser shots.

Manticore sighed.

The Sonic Weapon was brought into view, as pointed out by the Emperor.

Jedi Lords suddenly appeared to face-off against Maldael and the Emperor.

Fools, all!!

Had Tedryn planned such an obvious ambush hoping to catch them unawares?

Exerting his power over the Force, Manticore gestured broadly to cover himself, Maldael and the Emperor in order to capture the plethora of physical bullets aimed at them, and without slowing down their velocity and momentum, redirected the metallic swarm at the Sonic weapon.

This would not be the first time he’d use the enemies own weapons against them, nor the last. He intentionally left himself ‘seem’ open and 'vulnerable'. A subtle taunt, an ‘obvious’ target.

He wasn’t here for these foot soldiers and their toys, but he’d definitely slaughter them in order to draw out their Jedi Master.

Dejarik was such an enjoyable game, after all.


Battle was joined, Maldael allowed his training and the muscle memory of fight after fight take over as he almost seemed to dance around the battlefield, cutting down those who faced him. They drew nearer and nearer to their destination, their foes falling in waves as they advanced. Which, of course, was when their foes decided to change strategies.

He noted the projectile weapons with a wry smile, the Mandalorians had figured out those weapons worked better against lightsabers and others had adapted as well, when needed. Which just meant that his acrobatics became more pronounced, as he dodged the flashing projectiles as well as his foes' other attacks.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the sonic weapon, when the Emperor made his comment. But he was glad when his battle brother decided to face it as he wasn’t in a position to do so. The reason being that, when the Jedi Lord closest to him appeared he’d already been in movement and now he was dropping back down, inverted, from a leap that had cost him part of the heel of his boot as he avoided his foe’s attack.

The hissing, spitting sound of lightsabers squealing against one another was in the air, his blade vertically placed against his foes, as he dropped. In one movement his free hand’s palm flicked toward his foe, lightning erupting from it, his arm holding the saber straining to thrust his foe’s blade out of the way so that he could land on the ground without further injury.

The sonic weapon erupted into flame, sending a shockwave that sent a Jedi Lord tumbling off the ledge. The Emperor watched him, his hands tucked behind his back still, and he turned, stepping onwards through the melee. A Storm Corps guard fired, missed his pointed ear, and the Emperor lazily pushed him off the side.

Maldael leapt, connected, his opponent locking blades and then lifting a finger from the hilt to nudge Maldael's to pour his bolt across his shoulder, into the Storm Corps -

The Sephi was held in mid-air -

The Emperor reached the blade-to-blade of Maldael, noting that the rest of the Storm Corps were down, and lifted a finger -

Sneering, he turned back, saw his old Jedi Lord opponent leaping back to the bridge.

"Lord Manticore, if you would?"

One Jedi Lord struggled against Maldael's weight and downward thrust, but the Force was gathering within him, clearly in anticipation of sending his Sith foe flying -

It was as if an invisible force caused him to turn on his heel in a blink of an eye. Manticore did not require ‘permission’ to dole out his particular brand of vehemence, but when an ‘Imperial Edict’ was issued; well, who was he to refuse?

The zabrak Sith Lord became a blur of motion as he set off like a shot at his new target - a Jedi Lord. There was a a measure of symmetry in this: A Sith Lord for a Jedi Lord.

It was poetry in motion.

Overflowing with unspent fury, the horned Sith streaked like star pilot on a suicide run, fully intent on detonating upon impact, with the force of proton torpedoes.

The final curtain had already fallen on this stage, despite the few conscientious objectors.

Maldael’s eyes narrowed at being held aloft. His long ears began to turn a purple color as blood rushed to them, even as a low growl escaped, seeing his Lightning attack be diverted. Surprisingly, his body wasn’t fully locked in place, which he noticed as he tried to adjust, feeling himself slowly descending, the Jedi Lord having to strain harder to keep him aloft.

His attention, as he mulled the problem over, roved the battlefield. He could feel and see the Emperor moving closer, heard the roar of the disabled sonic cannon. And then he felt the rage of his battle brother fill the Force. The sense of it drew closer, telling him that Manticore was on the warpath.

Returning his attention to the Jedi Lord below, he sighed as he felt the power the man was gathering. Being airborne, Mal suspected the Jedi was preparing to do something that he, himself, would rather the man not do. A lazy smile emerged, his free hand reaching upward to his equipment belt.

In the twenty years he’d spent planning and researching, fighting and improving what would or would not work, he’d come across a few things that often were surprises to foes he’d faced. One of which he now pulled from his belt. The smile broadened as the open muzzle of the weapon aimed downward, only a meter or so from the foe he was creeping towards.

”The galaxy is safer without you in it.” he muttered, before he pulled the trigger, the projectile weapon firing again and again, as he held the trigger down for several long seconds. After the fourth round spat toward the face of his foe he quickly resheathed the gun, preparing for the hesitation, if nothing else, that his foe would have when he realized what was headed his way.

The stage was indeed set, and the Jedi Lord was no master of the art of war; his blades parried but did not retaliate, and Manticore's fury was a nova; it burned, and burned, and burned, a dozen cuts and wounds and the Jedi Lord was bleeding even through cauterized cuts, so many that they were, tumbling to the ground -

The Jedi Lord beneath Mal could only watch in horror as he was simply shot to death, his face becoming a mass and mush of blood, then matter, then bone, and the corpse fell.

The Emperor was already walking on, reaching the immense door, hands still tucked behind his back and indifference shown to their struggles and the deaths their presence had wrought.

He had been relentless, pitiless in his assault, raining down a deluge of seething red slashes and stabs at his opponent, who'd mounted a poor defense, judging by the result. The Jedi Lord had not attempted to counter or retaliate, therefore paying the ultimate price for his choice, as Manticore's final strike on his target was meant to leave him headless.

The Jedi Lord's poor performance had left the zabrak unsatisfied still, and filled him with suspicion. Had his opponent been a sacrificial pawn of some sort? His memory of these Jedi Lords' battle prowess differed greatly from that which had just transpired.

Manticore's expressed fury remained a beacon, challenging any defender who deemed himself up to the task. His baleful gaze roved the battlefield, his senses extended in order to suss out any hidden Jedi plots, as Tedryn had yet to show himself.

A wicked grin formed for the briefest moment upon his visage, seeing Maldael's handy work.

The Emperor simply continued on his path, unperturbed as he moved ever closer towards destiny.

Manticore himself began to move closer towards his battle brother and the Emperor, covering the rear approach; he expected yet another 'surprise attack' by the enemy- one that would end in failure, just as the previous one had.

The three dragons on the board were about to bring down the last remaining garrison.

What force could turn their flight? What instrument could stem their fire?

Seeing his opponent fall, Maldael spun, landing with a squelch. Glancing down, he shook his head, hair flying about. ”Of course…” he muttered. Kneeling down, he deftly disassembled his foe’s lightsaber, plucking the kyber from within, and securing it in a small pouch in his robe.

Rising to his feet again, he spun carefully, feet slipping on the stone with the viscous fluid underneath, he strode after the Emperor. As Manticore covered their rear, he focused his attention to the fore and sides. Glancing down again, he flicked his boots as he walked, blood and, was that brain matter…, splattered from his shin greaves and boots.

’That’s never going to come out, I’ll have to burn these later.’ the wry thought seared through his mind.

As the Emperor did not slow in his pacing, Mal had to keep pace to match, bringing them closer to the citadel and the Sith Lord whose life needed to be extinguished so that peace could return to the galaxy.

The two Jedi Lords were down; their Storm Corps escorts too.

The Emperor wrapped a knuckle on the door; no response.

"Durasteel," he chuckled. "Treated with Sith alchemy, so we can't lift it..."

He indicated their lightsabers.

"If you would, my friends?"

Mal let one eyebrow arch at the Emperor’s words. He was certain, by now, that the older half sephi was more than strong enough to have peeled the door open on his own. Which suggested that either the older man was holding back his power for a later use or he was deliberately letting him and Manticore use up their energy or power before the main event. Or both.

He glanced over at Manticore, the eyebrow still arched, before he turned back to the Emperor with a snort. Shaking his head, ”Do you plan to stroll casually through all this, Emperor?” he asked, a light edge of humor forced into his words.

As he did, he took one of his sabers from his belt, igniting it and listening to the squeal of metal as he pressed it against one corner of the door, testing to see what traps may be upon it from the alchemical treatment, before he pushed the blade into the metal itself.

Manticore looked curiously from the Emperor to the massive doors, then chuckled at Maldael's words. Innately, he sensed his brother's unspoken concern and made a mental note of it. A man that could sentence his own progeny to death was capable of anything.

Now, why would such a door exist in such a place? Sith Alchemy, here? Manticore chuckled again. So many layers of deception were playing out at once.

Without looking, the zabrak Sith Lord gestured, calling to himself one of the Jedi Lord's lightsabers to his hand. Immediately, his ire rose to monstrous heights, spiking like a super nova. As he lit the Jedi's blade, Manticore bellowed at the weapon and poured his unbridled hate into it, focusing the darkside like a surgical instrument. The ground shook under the zabrak, the air shimmered around him as it became momentarily super heated. The blade itself seemed to shriek a death scream as the luminescent shaft emerged, changing colors from sky blue to blood red.

Manticore leered at it now, satisfied. One less Jedi tool in the galaxy.

The Sith Lord now took measured steps as he watched his brother check the door for traps. Once he felt it was 'safe' enough, he too changed his stance as he began the process of breaching their alchemically treated obstacle.

All the while, extending his senses, very much expecting an attack from behind.

Such and old trick would not work on him. Not here. Not now.

"I am old, Maldael, at four hundred years old, so spritely you will not be," the Emperor chided lightly.

He watched the lightsaber cut through the metal, noting the slight sloth to it. "Is it hard work?" Indeed, the metal had an unusual resistance; was that beskar laced throughout, the newly discovered mineral here, of all places?

For the moment, he paid no heed to Manticore, but he did note the lightsaber burned a truly wonderful shade of wicked crimson. An eyebrow arched, and he looked back. "Jedi Lord's using an alchemically treated door... an occupied fortress, or did we merely interrupt their own advance?"

He gestured to the bridge area. "If so, where are the Sith they slew to get here?"

Indeed, the way seemed to be completely empty. "Would Sith merely rely upon a door... or...?"

Manticore did chuckle at the Emperor’s comment regarding his own age.

'400 years old?'

It wasn't an unimpressive number, though it was a curious fact. That thought was not one to occupy the zabrak’s mind overlong, as he was in the middle of a battlefield, and his focus returned to the task at hand.

While Manticore employed the re-purposed lightsaber as a ‘welder's tool’ to breach the Force resistance door, he well understood that 'resistant' did not mean ‘impervious’. To that end, the displaced Sith Lord poured his hate, as well as his mastery of pyrokinesis, to increase the efficacy of the red lightsaber blade, enhancing and redirecting its plasmic heat and energy to greater heights.

Manticore's senses remained alert, as the Emperor voiced the zabrak's silent concern, noting not only that they might be vulnerable, but also underscoring the lack of sith ‘victims’ to a Jedi assault.

How very curious indeed.

Manticore spared a glance towards Maldael.

Were they literally springing a trap?

For some reason, the thought of that possibility and its unspoken implications, excited him - for he was spoiling for a worthy adversary.

Mal could feel Manticore’s excitement, could feel the sense of boredom that the Emperor seemed to exude. Even so, he began muttering in a low tone, his left hand tracing over his right, curious lights flaring on the handle of his lightsaber. The blade shrieked at a higher tone as it forced its way through the offending metal.

”Not so curious that there seem to be no Sith bodies, to be honest. Either they created an elaborate trap for any and all that came and then departed or they have something truly devious that they have yet to reveal.” he muttered, in a higher tone than his previous muttering.

Either way, he knew the Emperor wouldn’t allow either of them to leave without whatever job it truly was he wanted them to do here was done. Which meant first taking down this door and then working deeper into the edifice beyond.


Tag: @Sinrebirth, @darthbernael

 

OOC: Combo with @Sinrebirth

IC: Marcus Dren

In orbit above Chabosh

Marcus spoke calmly, despite the blade being pointed at him.

"Aura, stay behind me," he told his daughter before speaking to his half-sister. "Auranae, listen. I know you're angry. But you can't let that anger, that darkness consume you. Remember when I gave in to revenge and killed our father? You were horrified and you left me then, which you were right to do. Please, don't make the same mistake I did. Is revenge so important to you that you are willing to lose the only family you have left?"

As he spoke, the hilt of his lightsaber appeared in his hand. He was ready to defend himself and his daughter if necessary.

"Don't. Do. This."

Auranae hissed, the lightsaber blade darkening red. "What family?"

"You weren't here when I lost everything. I had to come find you."

The shadows seemed to deepen in the ship's hangar, and it wasn't just from her.

Aura stepped behind him, looking around, fearful. There were fuel canisters, untapped blaster gas, and what she suspected was a proton torpedo, not stocked aboard a ship before it left. She didn't recognize weapons like that after all.

"You haven't lost everything," Marcus pointed out. "Not yet. You still have me. You still have your niece. But if you give into your anger, after you take your revenge you will be left with nothing. And that will be your own doing."

He sighed and continued. "Don't you think I know how it feels? The pain of loss? I list you once before, but I also lost my daughter's mother! At the time, all I could think of was revenge against those who had killed her... but I let that go so I could be with my daughter instead. Because she needed me more than ever with her mother gone."

He looked at her, pleading. "Please."

"I have you?" Her voice was raised an octave. "You were too self-absorbed to be there for me, and now you try?"

She stepped forward, her blade burning red; even her eyes seemed to yellow. The shadows of the room were growing deeper, more encompassing, more concealing -

Auranae had fallen.

The change, it had been so sudden, so horrible -

"Daddy, I don't feel right -" Aura stuttered, slightly.

Marcus sighed, the grip on his lightsaber tightening.

"Aura, close your eyes," he told his daughter. "Don't open then until I tell you to."

He then ignited his lightsaber, its red blade filling the room.

He would do what he must.

She swung, enraged, an angry and heavily telegraphed blow at his neck, all power, no finesse, all rage.

Aura hunched down and pressed her eyes into her knees.

The shadows drew around them, and Aura began to rock. "Daddy, the voices want me to..."

There was something in the air.

Marcus easily blocked the blow. But his main concern wasn't his enraged sister. Instead, he was concerned about his daughter.

"Don't listen to them, Aura!" he begged as he pushed his sister's blade back. He knew he had to be there for his daughter. He knew that his sister was a threat.

So he had to end this. Now.

He went for the heart.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: K4-ZU-P8489 or Kazu & Ronin - Sinre Combo

Ajunta Pall commanded a shuttle to the Temple, and when it arrived, the Imperial shuttle included Antilles, the young man's arms folded. "So you reap your chaos and now leave?"

Bee tootled in concern. There were other ships coming down, their access to the system was suddenly revoked, but it confirmed that ten troop transports, carrying twenty Storm Corps a piece, were en route, and behind them Alsakani Impalers and Corellian Green Jedi were coming too, another dozen of each.

"Mail held for future date." Turning to Antilles he dipped his armored head, "That was the plan. No contingency was set to keep the world. Merely to dismantle leadership to allow internal alterations. Your admiral should be pleased." Kazu stated as he stepped forward, "Exit strategy needs be implemented. Stand aside. Single warning."

They needed to get going.

Antilles demurred. "I've flown this down to you to give you a chance to surrender before the bloodbath."

The Ronin frowned.

The ships were approaching, and the danger in the Force grew, but not from Antilles.

The Ronin cast his senses into the shuttle, and realised it really was just the man alone.

What kind of lunatic approached the Dark Lord of the Sith and a murderdroid without backup?

Without a plan.

He was simply not threatening.

They could easily take the shuttle and -

"Ah," he said, wordlessly.

But how to convey that to Kazu?

Antilles stepped forward towards Kazu. "Make me."

"Understood." Kazu stated, this unit had initiated a binary ultimatum and Antilles had chosen the path of violence.

With a flourish he shot the man with the Gun of Command. "Give clearance command for shuttle that we might depart. With haste." Kazu intoned as he stepped forward to meet him.

The man swayed.

"Yes, of course."

And so, he did.

He pulled out his comlink. "This is Antilles. Requesting immediate clearance from the landing zone. The targets are inbound."

"Granted," came the supercilious voice of the Admiral.

The Ronin levitated Bee up the ramp, and let the same close behind him and Kazu.

"Thank you for not killing him," he said, softly.

“Go have…fun.” Kazu called out before the shuttle doors closed. Kazu looked at him nonplussed. “Cessation of life would merely of cleared a path to the ship. Not to escape.” Not to mention Kazu was able to test the effectiveness of his new weapon, which was already worth it.

Antilles, a little unsteady, marched off, skipped, even.

The Ronin chuckled darkly. "The Admiral was giving us this ship, or Antilles was. Either way, someone doesn't think it's appropriate for us to be killed after we freed the Empire from the High Lords." A hesitation, and he looked to the sky as their shuttle picked up into orbit. "Or, rather, I imagine, saved the Republic from the Empire."

He looked rather sour.

"I much preferred it when we had more than one Empire, to balance out the other, rather than a Republic, to conflict without end against the Empire..." Ronin shrugged, stoicism creeping back in. In the distance, dots were resolving into ship designs, with the backdrop of one of the angular Imperial Dreadnoughts.

"I am not a good pilot," he said simply. "Are you?"

Bee tweetled his recollection of when the Ronin crashed an airspeeder.

Into a river.

Kazu stepped forward and sat down. His eyes taking in all the displays at once. At least the thing was already started. "Bee. Plug in and find a user manual. Upload to my database." Reaching out a hand he tapped a button to close the ramp. "This unit has seen ships flown numerous times...for the non-programmable the path to mastery begins with imitation." With that he began by pulling a lever that his memory core recalled made the ship go - although as he did so he found a data stream coming from the nothing node in his processor.

Utilizing the streaming data on piloting he quickly set to putting the data to use. Setting a course off world and attempting to fly casual.

Ronin smirked at that adage. "For the non-programmable, eh?"

Bee tweetled his agreement.

They soared into the sky, and it was only belatedly the landing ships adjusted their course.

Nodding with approval, he set the hyperspace coordinates.

The Dreadnought curved the planet, and they were nearly in range of it, and nearly out of the embrace of gravity.

"We have an appointment with the last Shadow Lord."

He nodded as the hyperdrive chimed readiness.

"Acknowledged." Kazu responded as he reached forward to initialize the procedure that would culminate in their continued adventure.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

OOC: Combo with @Sinrebirth

IC: Marcus Dren

In orbit

Marcus turned to Terrak, glaring at him.

"Are you serious right now?" he asked Terrak in disbelief. "I dared to interfere with your master's project? Buddy, I didn't even know about your master's project. I didn't want to get involved... but you decided to involve me. If this is about revenge, remember this. You took my daughter. I wanted nothing to do with your master and her project. She would be just fine if you didn't decide to interfere with my business, if you hadn't taken my daughter without considering the consequences. You forced my hand. Your master is dead... and it is your fault, because you made me her problem."

Quite frankly, he was tired of this.

Terrak snorted, using the Force to keep him upright.

"Accept my plague, or I will take your daughter again."

A glower.

"Permanently."

Marcus Dren was, however, a unique individual by now. Perhaps it was his brush with the Muur Talisman... perhaps it was his defeat of XoXaan... perhaps it was merely that he had a child.

That power would rise up in him, acknowledging his resolve.

The carrier was going down, but they still had hope.

"No," Marcus said as he walked toward Terrak. "I don't think you get it. I am going to give you a choice. Leave. Don't force my hand. And you will live. But test me or test my power... and you will die."

His eyes darkened and his fists tightened.

"That is your choice. But you are not taking my daughter. Not ever again."

"Then die!"

Terrak ignited a blade and rushed forward, and lunged at him, the shadows giving way to a knot of a half dozen acolytes, prostrate, worshipping their Lord. A new Shadow Lord had been born in all of this violence.

Marcus' daughter was a creeping darkness, a network of black seeking to consume her. "Daddy -" She was crying, her body being lost to the infection -

A gesture from Terrak and the shadows leapt up to seize at Marcus -

"Enjoy the rage that my plague can instill in you!"

The shadow was really a collection of particles, gathered together and made almost corporeal, each carrying a little mote of poison -

Marcus drew his blade and met Terrak's, pushing back against him.

"I think you fail to understand, Terrak," Marcus told the Shadow Lord. "My rage cannot be instilled by you."

He waved his hand and the shadows leaping up at him dispersed.

"My rage is all me," he revealed, grinning. "How about I show you?"

The shadows parted, and they seemed to rip at Terrak as they were shoved back, exposing his skin and blood, and even wrenching his helm off -

Revealing a young teenager of a man, probably much closer to Marcus' daughter's age than his own -

The acolytes all cowered, retreating into the corners fo the room -

Terrak roared. "You are NOTHING!"

Perhaps he was more clearly describing himself.

With his will, with his resolve, with his experience of Light and Dark and everything in-between, Marcus had resisted the plague -

Terrak swung, clumsily, exposing his reliance upon his chemical weapon more than not -

Marcus gestured with his hand and pinned Terrak to the floor with the Force.

"I am Marcus Dren," he told Terrak, his voice determined. "Master of Beasts. Champion over Sorzus Syn and Karness Muur." He glanced at his sister's body. "Brother." He glanced back at his daughter. "And father."

He lifted Terrak into the air and slammed him back on the ground hard. "I am Dren. And what are you?" He scoffed. "Just a child... in a mask."

Terrak's neck actually cracked, and his body went limp.

The acolytes howled, upset, betrayed, as heat began to melt at the ship, hitting atmo and beyond.

"Dad..." Marcus' daughter was almost entirely shadowed now, the infection travelling to her neck -

She reached out a hand to him. "Help."

Marcus ran over to Aura, taking her hands.

"It's going to be okay," he said, trying to reassure her.

He reached out with the Force, hoping to take the infection from her, since there was a chance that he could burn it out of himself.

The acolytes rushed up, and then stopped, merely collecting up their fallen master and scuttling away. They would head to his ship, to flee, to save his corpse... and his knowledge, of the infection, even if it had been defeated by this man, this true Jedi, in more ways than one, and none whatsoever.

The energy he released burned away the darkness, a light, a glowing power that was love and power, and them.

Aura held her father, as the carrier burned into orbit, through cloud-cover, unerringly towards the siege below.

She poured her faith and trust into the space between them.

"Dad!"

A cry out.

Marcus fell to his knees, breathing heavily.

He let his daughter hold onto him.

But he didn't say a word.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: K4-ZU-P8489 or Kazu, The Dark Lord, B5-56 or Bee ~A COMBO~
Crossing the Starlines, Entering Chabosh

The Ronin spoke up, giving information about the state of in system assets. Apparently Tulak Hord was the only major asset. It quickly settled into a speech that did not warrant this unit to do anything.

A hyperspace chime announced the ship's arrival which also ended the lengthy speech.

A Centurion-class Star Destroyer, the finest battlecruiser in the Empire; a ship that should never have been in the hands of a Sith, let alone the Shadow Lord himself.

It was battered, broken; twisted.

Ravaged.

Fire found their shuttle and there was a loud bang.

This unit apparently was unable to initiate evasive maneuvers to an unknown threat at decanting in time. This was troublesome. They were going down, and the Ronin roared as their shuttle barely held together -

"Kazu, Bee -"

Kazu quickly was twisting dials, cutting off damaged lines, and trying to initiate a best case crash landing attempt. Kazu pinged Bee, perhaps the astromech had something to add and offer to this situation.

The astromech blatted angrily at him, rushing to a port and hooking up.

From the cavernous heart of the Star Destroyer came fighters, Sith designs, as well as gunships and blastboats -

"Guns," Ronin grunted. "Do we have any?"

Bee confirmed with a blast of sound a rear gun, two forward firing ones -

A shower of sparks, and a coruscating power surge conducted with Kazu's arms -

The rear shields were down; the fore were locked in place, double powered and rising -

"I can fly." He swept over to Kazu, noted the electronic interplay upon both his arms. "Kazu?"

Kazu could feel his servos trying to rebel. Electrical signals were being counter signaled and re-signaled by the panels discharge that was crawling up his arms. His core was wildly trying to override and even bypass those errant signals. His core processor gave a memory of another that used limbs that were not there own regardless of power or pain.

Thoughts and errant search for pathways that were listed on the systems hardware raged on, he would turn the ship. He had to process and accept input, dodge and fly this crashing ship to a safe landing.

The droids core began to heat up, more and more, overstraining.

The Ronin gently placed his hands on the backs of his hands, and even Bee tweetled mournfully.

"It's okay, you can let go."

There was a loud bang and the ship began to spin

"Affirmative." Kazu droned as it gave the commands to release the controls. To move out of the way of the organic taking over the piloting of the vessel. With the reduced input his core should begin to cope better. Major strains had been removed, but still the droid sneaked the hidden pathways trying to trace the path to the energy field that bore so many different titles. If it remembered correctly, touch was not required.

Several eyes were shut down, his limbs dangled in a system reboot, as he knelt between the chair and the wall. Searching.

The Ronin himself became electrified, but he was a master of electricity and pushed back.

There was another bang to the rear, and Bee detached from the console and began to wheel back. He sprouted what had to be missile launchers - Taung whistlers, very expensive, very dangerous. "Bee, are you -"

The droid triumphantly blatted that it intended to open the back of the ship and open fire -

"Kazu!" Ronin shouted, almost panicked for his droid friend.

Bee rolled into the cargo bay, which was already opening, wind whistling into the cockpit, or, rather out -

It was a good thing they had crossed into atmosphere!

Kazu weakly felt the impulses of his sound receptors. Computing the situation as it stood it ceased it's attempts and let it's core cool. "System reboot in progress."

The droid's arms were slack, but legs active.

Bee magnetised himself in the rear bay and began shooting missiles into the void -

A Sith fighter erupted, surprised by the sudden barrage -

A moment later, another opened fire, and Bee was jarred from the floor by the impact, squealing in panic -

Kazu set aside the memory files for this moment for later review, and focused on the present. Hearing the distant squeal Kazu stood and bolted down into the cargo bay. Kipping as to let the air suction drag it faster with its footpads just above the deck as it cycled it's magnetic pads. It's eyes quickly relayed the situation and a solution was evident.

Step gliding as fast as it could it aimed to get within range and with one pad firmly stuck to the deck, use this units free leg to swing kick the astromech down to the deck and pin it there.

The droid tootled a thanks, eventually, when it realised what was happening.

The last Sith fighter was dogged upon them, firing once, twice, the green glow of its lasers illuminating the cargo bay but missing the ship -

The Ronin shouted back, over the wind. "Are we going to do anything about that?"

Kazu rotated through his available weapon choices. Taking time to review the images and patterns of the enemy ship Kazu took one of the pieces of beskar and with a pain deep in it's circuits threw it like discus at the enemy craft. If calculations were correct it would break through the forward canopy and crush the internal pilots vital organs.

It was a sacrifice, but one it could not help but to make in the heat of the moment. Even it merely destroyed the enemy ships windscreen it would then allow a blaster barrage to be effective.

The beskar went through the canopy with some speed, but Bee tootled panic as the fighter kept going. Clearly the pilot was something of a hound, determined to kill them. Even suffocating to vacuum -

Assuming the pilot didn't have a personal shield of some kind -

The fighter accelerated, as if intending to ram their rear -

Kazu clocked the enemy vessel and recognized the acceleration. "Evasive action recommended." Kazu blared back up toward the cockpit from his rear speaker as he pulled out his blaster and began taking peppered shots at where the pilot should be visible.

The bolts were fired with droid accuracy, but the pilot saw it coming, and shot forward -

The fighter spun out, no longer controlled, the bolts piercing the pilots seat, ripping off the left-handed console stick in a surprisingly perfect shot, Bee noted in his subsequent reviews of the footage -

Then the pilot landed, clearly using the Force, the fighter hitting the rear of their ship and upending Bee and Kazu for a critical moment -



The Massassi Sith, enconsed in a vacuum shell, began shrugging off its uniform to draw a lanvarok to its left arm, a spear popping into existence as if spring-loaded -



Discs swung at them -



Kazu realized his calculated efforts had been in vain, with computational regret this unit was not fast enough to adapt to the targets altered position and Force imbued attack boarding maneuver. Finding itself on it's back this unit wiggled it's arms and legs, gathering data about position and weapon weight distributions prior to righting itself. Sadly this took seconds and in that time as he pivot popped upright Kazu saw from multiple angles the species and the weapons being deployed with a discus in attack trajectories.

Drawing the beskar sword Kazu quickly allowed the computations to flow from optic sensors, probability generators, and the unknown junction directly to his servos to perform whatever optimized defense was computed without processing nor revision. There was no time in these cramped quarters. Additionally it programmed a secondary order to the eye closest to the flame projector to have it trigger whenever it would be plausibly passing an arc that would include the hostile border.

The droid was quick, no doubt of that, and the discs whizzed by, save for one -

Bee toppled, one embedded within him -

And then the flamethrower engulfed the red-skinned Sith, who screamed in his own tongue, throwing his lanvarok and spear to the floor as he tried to pat himself down -

Stepping forward Kazu replied to the Sith in his own tongue, {You have been found a disgrace to your lineage.} With that he slashed with his beskar blade and removed the unworthy head from it's shoulders. Sith justice for a weak warrior had been delivered, to perish to a droid - computational shame.

Turning after a second Kazu looked at the other droid that been felled by a blade, or at least damaged. Approaching a panel he closed the door to space and initiated the repressurization to bring the thin upper atmosphere they had left to proper biological standards. "Bee has been damaged." he stated before trudging over to inspect the smaller unit.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: K4-ZU-P8489 or Kazu
Crossing the Skies, Entering Chabosh

Bee was down, and quick use of a cargo crash webbing was used to tie down and secure the unit in place before moving to the bridge. The air was not thickening as it should with a closed cargo bay doors.

Visual inspection on relocating to the bridge of the shuttle was enough before checking the displays to denote the repeat damage of the flight, the ship was very shortly in atmosphere, hulled, and losing momentum as the air caught in the hull.

It was no longer landing, it was falling.

Spinning.

Initiating crash procedures would be recommended, but the Ronin who struggled to maintain consciousness, but lost it in short order. With Bee down in need of repairs this meant a critical situation was occurring.

It was up to Kazu to save them; damaged, alone, Kazu.

The fortress was directly beneath them, hundreds of Jedi and Sith fighting - mainly Jedi Lords and Shadow Sith, but there were a few True Jedi and among them were Sith friends from the Ghost Prison and Corbos.

But with their damage, they were definitely going down.

Securing Ronin in his seat Kazu began using the ships thrusters and engines to see about slowing the ships decent. Aiming towards the battle Kazu prepared for what his mystery node corresponded to radical reentry options. Nose to the sky and engines roaring to land upon its tail.

If this option would not be sufficient then emergency ejection of occupants with whatever escape options were available would have to be employed.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

OOC: Combo with @Sinrebirth

IC: Marcus Dren

Chabosh

Marcus cradled his unconscious daughter protectively as he listened to the Emperor ramble, narrowing his eyes at the man.

Though the Emperor was right. Tulak Hord was here. Marcus could feel his presence.

But he was not going to play the Emperor's game. Especially when he was being so transparent.

"I have no interest in being your apprentice," Marcus told the Emperor. "Whatever you're planning, I want nothing to do with it. I just want to take my daughter away from here and never be bothered again."

Let them fight. The Jedi. The Sith. The Emperor. The Ronin.

Let them all kill each other and burn together.

Whatever the Emperor was, Marcus knew he had no interest in protecting his daughter. And he knew the only person who could protect his daughter was himself.

"We're leaving," he declared boldly.
The Emperor spread his hands.

"To go where?"

He pointed upwards at the sky.

Tulak Hord's dreadnaught was aflame; above it was an Imperial Dreadnaught, the Jedi Grand Lord aboard. It was taking hits though; would both come down? Between them, dozens of fighter craft preyed upon each other.

"And how?"

He absently indicated the broken ship that Marcus had arrived in, and swept a hand to the flaming wreckage carrying the Ronin and Kazu.

"And with whom?"

He then gestured to the unconscious at his feet.

Manticore; Maldael; Tedryn.

Sith and True Jedi.

"Just you and your child? Rejecting all hope?"

"We'll find a way," Marcus replied simply as he got up, his daughter in his arms. "I'm not rejecting all hope... I'm just rejecting you."

And without another word, he began to walk away from the Emperor. And away from the war.
"So be it."

A crackle of Force lightning as it crossed the distance between the Emperor and him, impacting Marcus from behind -

Marcus had expected this, of course. As the lightning crackled toward him, Marcus lifted one of his hands and rather than slam into him, the lightning slammed into a Force barrier.

Marcus turned back to look at the Emperor, still holding up the barrier. "Utterly predictable," he commented.
"Then you won't be surprised when this happens -"

A twist of his hand and the ground gave way beneath Marcus -

The Emperor leapt into the air, a silver-and-gold lightsaber hilt in hand -

Marcus jumped as the ground gave way beneath his feet. He landed on safe ground, quickly placing his daughter down somewhere where she would be safe... and then he turned back to the Emperor, drawing his lightsaber. Using the Force, he grabbed whatever wasn't bolted down and threw it at the Emperor, bombarding him with anything that he could grab onto.
The lightsaber ignited crimson, and in a flash, shredded the thrown debris and the Force nudged the Emperor to land behind Marcus in a swift movement. The old man was fast, terribly so, and he launched towards Marcus' daughter, lightsaber point reaching -

He was in-range before he tapped a foot down and inverted, spinning to lash out at shoulder height on Marcus, neck height on her -

Marcus intercepted, of course. He also moved fast, faster than usual. Perhaps that desire to protect his daughter gave him more strength. His blade was a blur, deflecting all of the Emperor's attacks before becoming more offensive, trying to drive the Emperor back and overpower him, kill him if possible.
The Emperor grinned, pushed off with one foot, turning around Marcus and pinning him in place defending his daughter -

A lightning fast strike at his side, then one at his head, another low down at his ankle -

Marcus just screamed in pain as he felt the lightning strike him three times, bringing him down. He hadn't been prepared for that, prepared for someone of the Emperor's power. He seemed... different from his other opponents.
The Emperor seemed to read his very thoughts. "I'm different because I'm a True Sith. Not one of these fallen Dark Jedi, playing Lord," the Emperor chuckled. "You think that it was merely serendipitous, what happened a century ago?"

The three blows had been fleeting; lightsaber cuts but not fatal. Marcus had chunks missing from his waist, his head, and his ankle.

The Emperor twirled his blade.

"I merely needed a better body."

His daughter began to stir, and the Emperor chortled.

"Come now, accept the darkness in your heart, become one with me, and we shall right the wrongs of the Force itself!"

Marcus glared up at the Emperor, hatred in his eyes. "You talk too much," he simply said.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

As always, a well enjoyed combo with @darthbernael & @Sinrebirth

***

IC: Maldael, Manticore, Tedryn, and Tulak Hord
The Space Between

Slowly coming to wakefulness or more as though slowly coming back into being from nothingness, Maldael opened his eyes with a sigh. He’d fought hard against the Black Knights, had used abilities he’d learned but not fully mastered to end their threat and then had been rewarded by the Emperor forcing himself and Manticore into sleep, Tedryn too if he recalled correctly.

The overlay of the waking, physical world over the one they now, he noticed the other two were present as well, inhabited spoke of where they were now; not dead but not quite alive, somewhere in between, walking the razor’s edge of existence. But, his ears flicked as he shook his head, this was a place both he and his battle brother had been before, or similar, and a place he had been exposed to on other occasions. One too, that he was sure he’d be inhabiting again, could feel the truth of that fact, over the future and lives he could but catch glimpses of in this Space Between.

He could feel, sense, see the flickers of Light and Darkness as the Jedi and Sith fought their seemingly endless struggle, oft played out over eons but in this moment occurring directly before them. His eyes roved over the field, narrowing in a previously only believed certainty as they took in the Emperor and his black hole of essence, an almost tear in the Force.

Other recognizable, only in the sense that he knew, remembered them, were out in the haze. Mal shook his head slightly as he realized the sense he had, of the two closest, were vaguely that of the two he’d run into one Kijimi. Others were out there but the haze closed the trio off from most of what could be felt. And then a wavy, stronger than the haze, feeling of Light approached. He was sure what being that had to be but, with where they’d been drawn into, that one wouldn’t have a true effect on their situation.

He turned, sensing what had to be the Light in Tedryn, wavery but there, as well as the sense of darkness within his battle brother. His own essence, that spiritual being he seemed to mostly be here was…interesting…he realized. His eyes seemed almost merry for a moment as he felt as much as saw the flickering greys that seemed to have formed into the shape of his physical body, imitating his self, as it were.

He wondered why it felt…supressed…until he felt the descending darkness. What they’d been trying to stop, to keep from approaching at…He glanced at the black hole that was the Emperor, at that being’s desire…’Hmmmm….’ he mused in thought. Looking upward, he watched that Darkness descend until it reached them, hearing the voice.

"I see you."

He couldn’t help it, decades of fighting, of struggle, of trying to keep his people safe and to keep both the Light and Dark from overwhelming all had pushed Mal to the edge of care. So…snark was what emerged, ”Of course you do…your approach, you, brought us here for whatever reason you have…”

Having been forged by unspeakable trials into the Sith Lord that he now was, few events could actually cause the zabrak to feel a sense of awe. This moment however, was one such event, when for a span of a breath, a shiver did run down the length of his spine; for this was a moment unlike any other.

Could this be a ’Shatterpoint’, a ‘Change’?

It had to be.

Manticore could feel their raw titanic power manifesting in the force- The Emperor, Tulak Hord -it was simply exhilarating, intoxicating. In that moment, he did briefly wonder if Jedi master Tedryn or his ‘brother’ Maldael could feel it too, especially here in the Space Between. How could they not?

A wink. A flicker. A ‘barely there’ distraction tugged at his conscious mind, something akin to a match going out- one that feltfamiliar, but then it was gone, as if it had never been. Before he could even attempt to consider it, Tulak Hord’s presence filled the space, commanding his attention.

Manticore snarled - though wether at Hord or at the Black Hole one could not say for certain.

The stage was set. But what exactly were their roles? Did his own thinking align with either potentate, or would it even make a difference if it did?

Manticore’s fiery gaze went from Tedryn, to Maldael, then finally to Tulak Hord.

He was barely conscious that he’d snarled once again.

Tedryn rubbed his head, and then his eyes.

Tulak Hord could see them.

He wasn't there, but they weren't here, either.

"What has happened?" He demanded, standing up and igniting his blue blade. "The True Jedi stand against the Lords." He pointed his weapon at Maldael, Manticore, and Hord. "Shadow or otherwise." He was referencing the Jedi Lords, the organization they had decimated on Coruscant, and the Shadow Lords, killed by their efforts save for one.

Hord was silent, merely watching the interplay.

"And Emperor's?"

"The Emperor is a threat to life, not just to the Jedi, or Sith."

Tedryn lifted his chin. "And you have enabled his true rise. Mere political power is nothing to him."

”You fool….you arrogant, deluded fool.” Mal stated, turning to face Tedryn, in an emotionless voice. ”Blaming every other being, dark or not, rather than your own ranks, for what has come about.”

Even focusing on Tedryn, his senses were flaring, seeking any way to remove himself and his brother from the situation, to get them clear so they could regroup or find a way to focus the situation on what the true threat was.

”I could care less about either the Jedi or the Sith, honestly. But,” he turned back to face Hord. ”your arrogance and destruction of the Shadow Lords and any that could oppose you has brought us to the point that the Emperor can enact his true plan, while this demon of a Dark Lord is standing right before us, dragging us into this place.”

"The enemy of my enemy....." Manticore found himself saying to the two, that being his brother and Tedryn, while his gaze remained on Tulak Hord. He was suggesting that they should work together- if such a thing was still possible- even at this late hour.

"We need to agree on who the 'real' enemy is."

He left the more obvious designation unspoken: Who was the lesser of the evils.

Either way, whatever they chose to do, whatever course of action they took, would seal their fates.

Tedryn pursed his lips. "By the end of today, the Jedi Lords, the Shadow Lords, the True Jedi and the Dark Lord will all be dead. He'll be the only one left. But the Grand Lord, and Tulak Hord... they need to fall."

"The Empire needs to be beaten today, or it will never fall."

He looked at the shadow of Tulak Hord.

"I had a Vision of this..."

He shared it with them.





"The Sith will rule, unless we undo the Empire."

Mal nodded, almost imperceptibly to his brother, they had fought and bled on opposite sides almost twenty years ago but had recognized, in each other, a kinship. It had been renewed as this conflict arose and he was certain that neither of them desired that either side truly win out, even if that meant destroying both.

What mattered now, though, was which foe, which battle to pick, that would reduce the odds of against them in that fight. He didn’t respond immediately, mulled over the vision, as he let his spiritual form twist and turn. With each movement he took in the black hole of darkness that was the Emperor, the blinding yet slightly distant light that was the Jedi Grandmaster, the lesser light that was Tedryn, the pitch darkness that was Tulak Hord, and the flaring grey and darkness that was his brother.

He sighed, feeling, sensing the swirling grey that enshrouded his own form. He was sure that was what had caused Tedryn to classify him as Sith at first glance but he was neither Sith nor Jedi, neither Light nor Dark, the petty distinctions of one or the other, at this point, had become moot. The Jedi had become as much Sith as the Sith had become Jedi.

”We…” he glanced at Manticore, no query in his gaze as he was sure his brother agreed, ”...will do what must be done to ensure the End does not come.”

“Aye.”

Manticore agreed with particular gravity in his voice.

“In this moment, there no Jedi or Sith….” He spat out. “Such division shall be our undoing - guaranteed.” He asserted.

“In this moment, we stand against ‘The End’ - no matter what we call ourselves; Our aim, our purpose, MUST ALIGN.”

The zabrak needed not regard his own brother, Mal, for he knew as well as he knew himself, that they agreed on this. His fiery gaze remained on the Jedi, Tedryn. In this place, the intensity of his fire and determination was plain to see.

“If we fail to overcome this hindrance, then we condemn all things in our weakness and are altogether unworthy to continue.”

Manticore paused enough to allow Tedryn a moment of consideration. As a Sith, his own personal adoration of Tulak Hord did not blind him to the truth - or what was truly necessary.

“For the Sun and the Moon to eclipse or be in prominence, life and order must continue.”

He wasn’t one for speaking at length, but sacrifices needed to be made.

“When the Jedi are strong, the Sith must rise to meet them - however long it may take. When the Sith are strong, the Jedi must do the same. There is no war between the seasons. Do you understand?”

Manticore suppressed a sigh.

It was critical for Tedryn to see the bigger picture, but he needed to open his eyes first - and let go of fear.

There was a sweep of energy, and suddenly, the entire area began to crumble.

Tedryn looked around, blade still ignited, his vision vanishing first.

"I come for you."

The very pressure of the dark side was upon them.

The Lord of Hate was shattering the world they existed within.

But his energy, it was akin to an eclipse; behind him there was jagged, painful Light.

The Grand Lord was behind him.

Tedryn was overcome with the shadow, and vanished.

"Awaken, and see your Emperor for what he truly is."

The words tumbled into their little world, and it came to an end.

It was in the Emperor's own voice.

True Sith.

The world around them shook itself apart, and Tedryn was gone.

Manticore released the sigh he’d been suppressing. Tedryn had made his choice - as were they all.

Tulak Hord’s power was impressive on a level all it’s own, but then again, he’d expected nothing less. Such power was both inspirational and aspirational. Still, the challenge ahead would not be an easy one, not by a long shot.

Manticore felt the tingling sensation associated with ‘waking’, even as he heard a great voice commanding them to do so, even as the world perished- not only that, but also the declaration, both spoken and unspoken.

True Sith?

“How so?” Manticore shouted in challenge.

“Where then is your Legacy? Where is your Heir?”

“Is yours ‘The Rule of Nothing’? or ‘No One’?

True Sith? Saying it is one thing, being it is another.”

A scoff. There had been too many 'self appointed' Sith to bother naming them.

“I see only a Destroyer.”

Manticore felt himself waking, rising to the Final Fight. The zabrak spared a glance to his brother, then nodded in accord.

For himself, he did not fear death, nor the end of all things. No. For in truth, Night was inevitable, but he would not go into it - not without a fight.

A myriad of aches and pains intruded on Maldael as the darkness of Hord only caused the light of the Grandmaster to flare, like the corona of a star as a planet passed before it. He felt the world they’d been brought to begin to crumble, offering only a passing glance at Tedryn as he vanished.

The call of his physical form became greater still as Hord caused the shadow world to collapse, his words driving Mal’s spirit back into his flesh. His eyes slowly opened, arms pushing himself from the floor as the Emperor’s voice intruded.

The words were still rolling through his mind as he felt and heard his brother. His lips twisted as he returned the nod, attention turning back to the Emperor. ”Did you ever wonder why Manticore and I chose to let you guide us here?” he asked, tone flat.

Straightening to his full height, feeling the pops and creaks of strained muscles from the recent battle, the partial smile turned up at one corner. ”Of course you had a plan and so did we…” the voice was deeper, rolling syllables as his eyes shifted towards a roil of greys.

”My brother has named you true, a Destructor. He and I stand firm against your destruction of all, will use all our resources to end the threat, will fight you to the bitter end.”

"To the bitter End..."


Tag: @Sinrebirth, @darthbernael