|
|
Post by Ghôsh Windu on Oct 19, 2015 0:37:56 GMT -8
Brimstone made his way down into the underground complex which was only accessible with a tattoo and or a bio scan, as above ground troops fought both the storm and the invading force, hearing the sound of brimstones voice aroused new confidence in the troops and they found their footing and started to stand their ground willing to give their lives for the lord brimstone, they become more prone to turing themselves in bombs and running full speed into or jumping down on advancing foes, the accuracy of their aim improved, as did the leadership of ground commanders, all threw out the compound small children dressed in black& gold came from hidden compartments and escorted all key personal and Sith of the Kashyyk Sith down into the under basement , at the same time 300 clone Cathar Marians of the golden guard poured into the temple from the underground basement with mounted shoulder cannons along with their upgraded WESTAR-M5, they headed to the courtyard to slow the advance invading forces, their commander carried 2 lightsabers but was using his shoulder cannon and M5 . as the elevator doors open brimstone found himself in one of the many levels to the underground base brimstone is greeted by a female with skin so covered in tattoos one could not make out her original skin tone
We have assembled a variety 60 Heavy Starfighters and 50 transport ships with hyper drives thats as many as we could find my lord all ready to move on your command, I have teams escorting key personal to their evac points along with, level 7 and below research projects and all other resources contained in the order 26 protocols , while the fortress wall has fallen and fighting has began between the two walls and the temple wall still holds but we have reports of a few forces inside the courtyard I have sent Marines to engage them directly ,
Send the 5th Battalion up to the surface to hold the temple, divert all remaining surface power to the temple wall shields, and prepare the Terentatek for release they will hunt out the leaders of this attack as I can not ,
Brimstone turns to walk away but she calls after him
Also General Kane in on the com for you
Brimstone took the com link from her
Kane I got a damn jedi army on kashyyyk complete with orbital fleet which means your not here,
No my lord you sent me to assist Blade on the assignment, I am currently waiting for him to return in empty space where you and moon witch meet
Annoying thought but oddly convent for the moment You are the new point then adjust your single
Yes sir … any news of my wife
He looked to the tattoo woman
She is and the akk guard are already on transports
She still lives to beat you another day kane
With that brimstone walked into a command room a full scoop of the size of this invasion force he would give the jedi a test of his tactical skills before the swarm, a wookiee chieftain of a clan of silverbacks entered the room and began to talk to Brimstone in one of the more rare form of the wookiess speech
we cannot be left behind my lord the Rwooks have aroused this rebellion to destroy the Kings stability, my clan has been loyal to you since you freed us from that jedi slave ship and brought us back home, with all do respect my lord we will go with you
Under one condition
Whatever you command
one male and female from every family must stay and act as my eyes and ears on this world while we are away
You mean to return
Not in the grand fashion you imagine but there are assets on kashyyyk that can not be moved
I understand we shall make sure those who stay watch over them my lord
*the chieftain bowed as brimstone turned to study the battlefield*
|
|
khazak
Member
Posts: 20 
Affiliation: Saris
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by khazak on Oct 19, 2015 11:56:33 GMT -8
Khazak lead his small contingent of wookies on foot as they marched upon the temple from the south. Yellow eyes fixed forward in a stare of hatred that burned like a hundred suns. His red saber was ignited and held to his right as he marched at an even pace advancing on the sith warriors that barred his way. He barely took notice of the wookie warriors behind him, those who followed him were even wary of the warrior with a crimson blade. When he was around thirty feet in front of the sith Khazak let out a scream that contained all of his anguish and hatred.
Charging forward with the wookies in tow Khazak raised his blade as the forces clashed for the first time. As the first sith warrior came upon him Khazaks blade deflected the man's to the left tracing it up his arm and removing his head. Khazak never stopped moving and locked blades with the next man growling as the clashed. Gripping the man's wrist Khazak slid his saber around the others and removed everything below the forearm. As the other human roared in pain Khazak drove the pommel of his saber into his throat silencing him forever. For a brief moment Khazak was at the eye of the storm and looked at the carnage around him.
Wookies with swords and sith with sabers clashed relentlessly in a dance of death. Bodies of the mangled and dying lay strewn across the forest ground and blood seemed to water the earth. Khazak watched as a wookie was beheaded by a sith soldier, only to see another snap the man's neck as though it were a twig. Surveying all of this Khazak's eyes briefly faltered, his rage subsiding into something similar to horror at the bloodshed, his contact with Anya had affected him more than he could have imagined. However this was brought to an end as another sith lunged towards him through the fray. Deflecting the new opponents saber Khazak spun and lashed out with a slash that nicked the mask of the other warrior sending it flying. What was underneath caught Khazak off-guard. A young woman with eyes the same yellow as him retaliated with a brutal kick to the solarplex that sent him flying.
Khazak rolled as he hit the ground coming up on his feet just in time to barely deflect a downward slash meant to bisect him. As the blade shot to the left the woman's right fist hurtled towards him slamming into his jaw and knocking him away. Finally his anger returned and Khazak roared as she closed the distance between them again. Bringing his own crimson blade up to meet hers he batted it away before she could gain any momentum. Raising his blade in a guard similar to that of djem so Khazak hammered downward with his saber repeatedly. With each slash he could feel the woman's defense weakening and finally he slashed to the side and watched her saber fly from her hands and somewhere into the brush. For a brief instant Khazak hesitated knowing that Anya would want him to control his emotions, but he was fueled by rage and gripped the woman with the force. Lifting her to her feet Khazak slowly crushed her airway with the force before letting her lifeless corpse drop to the ground.
The wookies around him had entered into a battle frenzy as well, becoming drunk on the blood of their fallen and that of the sith. They hurled the sith back again and again advancing on the temple with each clash. They would not be stopped, and their leader the human with yellow eyes and a blade of red was always at the forefront of the battle slaughtering the sith soldiers like animals. For each wound they suffered they retaliated three-fold butchering the once ruling sith like animals. As the last of the sith platoon sent to stop their advance was ripped apart by a wookie Khazak looked to the temple and continued his march, followed by his now loyal wookie companions.
|
|
|
|
Post by Ghôsh Windu on Oct 20, 2015 17:36:52 GMT -8
*Brimstone look at the map as troops where flooding in from all sides and his troops were spread all over engaging different sets of enemies, as the last of the kashyyyk sith and key personal ,all the research projects key documents and artifacts, and the goods were all on their ships, he walked over to a command seat and got on the boards to activate a few final gifts for the invaders, first he up the Terentateks in 6 groups of 4, and released them close to the entrances to the sub basement, next found enough explosives left over in the Armory for one final bang , he set two teams to place them close to the power core of the temple fortress, he then looked up the location of some old contacts, before he got up and headed down to the sub train to take him to the underwater hanger bay,as he the sub enter the last phase of its trip the tube open up to the view of Kashyyyk underwater life, before pulling into the underwater hanger, and walked over to his Sentinel-class shuttle with a custom red and black paint job and walked on board past all his KS who had been in the temple, and his and their family members and Key household members, up into to cockpit, and sat in the pilot seat and took the controls and looked over to his co pilot who was a trooper in a black helmet, and then all at once all the star fighters and transports too off as the doom of the hanger opened up, Brimstone tuned on the ships cloaking device before pulling off with the swarm, as they broke the surface of the hanger the ocean water was cascading down into the hanger, the swarm spread out in a wide formations as the broke for open orbit from 40 miles from the coast , as brimstone looked down at The temple fortress of Kashyyyk on last time he started the 30 min countdown until the place would explode at the same time releasing the Terentateks as a final gift before his ship breaks the atmosphere cloaked within the swarm
|
|
Aerandir Calmcacil
The Jedi Order
Posts: 1,731
Affiliation: The Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Aerandir Calmcacil on Oct 20, 2015 22:58:15 GMT -8
*So Aerandir's assault continued, the alarms of the temple threatening to disrupt his senses. So he instead relied on the Fore, and the emotions were thick and palpable, all manner of varied; panic, disarray, haste, fear, anger, hatred... It was a complete whirlwind that both made him pleased at their chaotic state and nearly sick at the darkness permeating this place.
But soon the morning sun would rise and vanquish this horrible night once and for all.
The two Jedi had not gone unimpeded long, as a pair of dark troopers appeared at the end of the hall, first not realizing the pair approaching them was the enemy. They quickly regained their senses and turned to fire, the siblings batting bolts aside and in their direction. Their armor was able to withstand any stray bolts that landed on their person, so they kept firing, their posture indicating they planned to flee. Aerandir gave a mental nudge to Michelle, who acknowledged it with a return nudge as he rooted his feet, taking up a Soresu stance and deflecting all bolts that came their way. This allowed Michelle to build up energy behind his shield before spinning out to the side and launching a Force push at the troopers, throwing them up against the wall. Aerandir then broke stance, dashing forward while they were vulnerable to remove their trigger arms at the elbow, as well as bisect their weapons.
He then left them as Michelle caught up; Aerandir had little intent to kill soldiers, even if they were devoted to this disgusting Order. He would likely have far less restraint for any Sith of the Order, however...
That was when, a little ways down the hall, a slender Farghul female, dressed in what Aerandir could only guess was meant to be an "alluring" ensemble, somersaulted into the hall, landing in a sliding crouch. A lightsaber came to her hand, red beam igniting, as she hissed at the duo.* "I'll deliver your heads to our God-King, Jedi," *she growled.
Aerandir scowled.* "Down, kitty. Your 'king's' been stripped of his crown. Turns out it was plastic anyway."
*The taunt worked; the felinoid's slit pupils narrowed to a thin line and she snarled before leaping into the fray. She was fast and acrobatic, most certainly a practitioner of Ataru. Blue and red traded blows as the Jedi siblings once again put their backs to each other, tracking the Farghul's motions as she moved all about the halls; while Michelle was certainly capable of handling herself, especially with her brother literally backing her up, he made extra care to help defend her position as well.
He didn't need a repeat of Jamie.*
"Your scent is offensive, Jedi," *the Farghul hissed during a pause.
Aerandir shrugged his shoulders.* "What can I say, battle makes you sweaty."
*She seemed perturbed her attempt at insult was only being deflected by humor and attacked again. As the combatants traded several blows, he could sense a touch of the dark side drawing into her presence. Aerandir tensed slightly, drawing the Force into himself to prepare for a counter to whatever she had planned.
She then leapt into the air, her off hand glowing with the dark side as she prepared to slam it down upon the duo. Aerandir acted immediately, sending a nudge to Michelle to move as he rolled forward, dodging the concentrated blast of dark side energy upon the ground beneath them. He came up in a crouch and spun as debris sprinkled past him, but she was no longer in the position she should have been; she had immediately moved, gripping Michelle by the the throat and lifting her into the air, saber hand drawing back to strike.
The reaction was instantaneous. Righteous fury burned within Aerandir as he sprang forward, the Force at his back, his left hand clutching for the Farghul's hair. With a powerful motion, he jerked her back, causing her to yowl in pain. With his right hand, he'd also brought his weapon back to strike, bringing it down upon the felinoid's right shoulder, removing the entire arm; the strike intended to end the young girl's life fell harmless to the ground. As did Michelle, the grip loosening as she landed on her feet, quickly somersaulting backward out of the way.
Aerandir spun the Farghul and pressed her against the wall, and she cowered at the fire in his eyes as he held her there, gaze boring right through her.* "This child," *he declared with a commanding voice,* "you do not touch."
*He allowed the Farghul no time to process or react to his declaration before he ran her through, ending her life lest she pull any new tricks; she could process that notion in whatever doomed afterlife the followers of Bogan were damned to.*
"Michael," *Michelle spoke gently and with concern, using the middle name she preferred to call him by.
It was one word, but it was all Aerandir needed to understand everything she was trying to say: Remain in control, don't fall prey to fury, and finish the mission. He took a deep breath to still himself, then exhaled, expelling all trace of harmful emotion. Then he smiled at her.* "Let's go."
*She returned a relieved smile as she followed him, but both of them sensed something relatively amiss: Somewhere, either outside the fortress walls or within, there was a battle happening. Only this one, instead of being led with order and the light, was permeated by the dark and rampage. Aerandir briefly worried that there was a contingent of Sith that got the drop on some of their men, but no... the violence was against other Sith. The darkness was of a different kind than that which permeated this temple, offensive, but far less filthy, and the primal rage accompanied by the foreign darksider was undoubtedly from a Wookiee presence...
He wasn't sure what to make of it, but for now, Aerandir had his mission. Pulling out his comlink, he spoke to the allied forces as he ran.* "Be advised, there appears to be a darksider leading Wookiees in an assault against the Sith. Repeat, darksider leading Wookiees in battle against the Sith." *Just as he completed his call, a pair of Cathar appeared from a large entryway, with cannons mounted on their shoulders and rifles in their arms. They spotted the two Jedi and growled, but all Aerandir did was stare dumbfoundedly and comment,* "That's gotta be incredibly unwieldy. No wonder you're all falling apart."
*They roared and aimed their cannons, preparing to open fire. They both perished in the small explosion caused by Aerandir plugging their cannons using the Force, the two Jedi moving on like it was nothing, Aerandir sifting through the bevy of emotions in the air to help locate his target. Fear... a huge concentration of it...
Yes! There. He had them. Now he just had to fight his way there.* "I'm coming," *he murmured aloud.* "Don't you fear..."
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 21, 2015 23:24:06 GMT -8
Mother Talzin once wrote of the Shapers of Kro Var, saying that because they were not native to Dathomir, that the Shapers could not have heard the call of the spirits as clearly as the Nightsisters had, but as Satish sat meditating in the middle of his cell below the grounds of the Kashyyyk Temple Fortress, he could hear the calls of the spirits loud and clear. Mother Talzin was a doddery old fool and had understood little of the true nature of the spirits, prefering instead to dabble in that so called magic of hers, which had only courrpted and perverted the spirits which resided upon Dathomir. Unlike the doom that Talzin had lead the Nightsisters to, Satish intended to lead the Shaper's to a golden age of prosperity and strength, after all, he hadn't been named the Ruler of Hundreds for no reason.
But before he could lead his people to greater things, he first needed to escape this prison and prove his strength and resolve to those who still doubted him to be the true Avatar of the Spirits. He had bided his time within the cell, using it to commune with the spirits and raise his awareness of what was happening on Kashyyyk, since it was rather strange that the Sith had somehow managed to gain a hold on a world that had so traditionally allied with the Jedi. Perhaps the Wookiee's had begun to sympathize with their captors, their minds clouded by the influence of the evil spirits that the Sith utalized to perform their own magic, which, like Mother Talzin's, was slowly rotting the planet to it's core. Regardless, it was none of his concern as to how things had ended up as they had, what did matter, was his escape and how he planned to help out those who were also locked up.
Whilst his own escape would be easy to manage, the Jedi that were currently assaulting this base would come in quite useful for the rescue of the others, even if he distrusted their use of the force. As soon as the guards had taken off to join the evacuation, Satish rose from his seated position and turned towards the cell bars as he called upon the aid of the spirits to lend him strength, before he widened his stance and extended both of his arms and jerked them sideways, the markings on his body and his eyes glowing silver as the metal bars bent to form an opening to allow him to stride out of his prison. Whilst a part of Satish wanted to take this children, and teach them the proper way of the spirits, he knew that it would make him no better than the people he was trying to save them from, so he would leave them to the care of the Jedi.
As he strode along the corridor, it was a little unnerving just how many younglings the Sith had taken prisoner, quite criminal if you thought about it. Satish had a hard time believing that anyone could be so evil that they would be ok with this, but then, the Sith were creatures that did not believe in reason, they had only one pursuit, and that was to further their own power. That said, the Jedi were notorious for indoctrinating younglings as well, albeit in better living conditions, but still, it was no surprise these monastical orders received such scrutiny for their practices. The irony was that they condemned one another for the same practices, just under diferent belief systems.
He shook his head, clearing his mind of such futile thoughts if he hoped to achieve the greater good here. He stopped in the middle of a hallway as he heard an explosion echo from a far off corridor, taking a moment to listen to what the spirits had to say, since it appeared that the Jedi had managed to breach the innards of the Fortress. Garnering all that he needed to know, Satish looked to the roof, before reaching out with his hands and peeling apart the metal to create a hole through several levels, an action which drew gasps from a nearby cell of younglings, who seemed impressed. Satish smiled at them reassuringly, not quite sure if the silver glow would put them off
Sit tight, you'll be free before you know it...
His eyes and markings then took on a more pure white glow as he passed his hands over one another, before several gusts of wind ran through the corridors and coalesced into a small tornado which lifted Satish up through the hole, allowing him to traverse several levels easily. He wasted no time after arriving to the upper level as he rushed along the hallway and rounded a corner, motioning to the Jedi that were currently heading along the next hallway towards where he was standing
This way! I know a shortcut!
|
|
Aerandir Calmcacil
The Jedi Order
Posts: 1,731
Affiliation: The Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Aerandir Calmcacil on Oct 22, 2015 18:29:05 GMT -8
*Moments later, a different sort of disturbance was felt by Aerandir, signaling the presence of yet another unaccounted-for party wielder of the Force. This one seemed... not exactly light, but certainly not belonging to the sheer darkness of this fortress's ilk. Its usage of the Force seemed a lot more natural. A prisoner perhaps, making his move now that the fortress was under assault, and possibly evacuation. And it seemed to take place not far from where Aerandir believed his target was located...
As the Jedi pair approached the end of a hallway, a figure emerged. Aerandir and Michelle slowed to a stop, immediately preparing to take on a new foe, but the figure wasn't attacking; instead, he was beckoning for them, calling them to follow, claiming to know of a "shortcut."
Aerandir ran through this situation in his mind as he examined the figure before him. A muscular human or near-human, covered in some sort of tribal tattoos and attire. This one was not cloaked in darkness... in fact, Aerandir was certain this was the sense of the earlier disturbance. And he intended to lead them to a shortcut...* "... lead the way." *Aerandir said at length, still somewhat skeptical, unsure of exactly what this "shortcut" would lead to; was this figure somehow aware of Aerandir's primary goal?* "And if this is a trap," *he added, pointing his amethyst blade at the figure,* "you can be assured we'll break it."
*Truthfully, Aerandir did not sense a trap, but nor was he entirely certain about trusting a total stranger in the heat of battle. Still, should this figure prove to be trustworthy, well, there was that proverb about alliances forged in fire or something like that.*
|
|
The Shepherd
Member
Posts: 269
Affiliation: Yavin IV Praxeum
Traffic Light: Orange
|
Post by The Shepherd on Oct 27, 2015 13:42:59 GMT -8
Pushing himself to his feet, Rutil didn't bother to wipe the mud from his body as he watched the spectacle unfold before him. The sounds of battle tore across the field as wave after wave of the coalition forces marched into the breached wall of the Sith stronghold; infantry, walkers, and artillery alike rushed into the gaping hole like a salve to an open sore, slowly but surely sterilizing the fortress meter by meter. Between the guns and the walkers and the Jedi already well underground, the old Zabrak knew in the bottom of his heart that they had won the day. The specifics and technicalities weren't all in place, to be sure, but it was done.
Kashyyyk was free. The rain fell with abandon, baptizing the world. The lightning scoured its surfaces and seas, purging it. And in time, it would reduce the bastion of the Kashyyyk Sith to dust.
Rutil fought the urge to dive into the temple himself; there were still Sith to be slain or captured, but they would be handled in due time. Judging from the coming onslaught, it was clear that nobody was quite thinking about extraction or transport yet. And who better to start that process than someone who would only get in the way down below?
Captain Marris, Rutil said into his comlink, barking to be heard above the downpour, bring the Spearhead down and make her ready for prisoner extraction.
----------
"Of course, Master Iorek."
As the comlink cut out, the captain's heart sank. In near-unison, the crew on the bridge of the corvette looked to Marris, hoping beyond hope that he could stop what every man and woman on that ship knew what was coming. With a heartbreaking look on his face, Captain Marris slowly shook his head and closed his eyes, balling his fist as he did so. They all took the hint. They all looked to each other. And, one by one, they all returned to look at their stations, unable to look at either themselves or their captain anymore.
There was a way for these things to be done. And casually flinging their enemies to their deaths wasn't it.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 29, 2015 20:45:31 GMT -8
Thinking back upon the wording of his statement, Satish had made an assumption that the Jedi nearby were on a mission to free the prisoners, but that was not necessarily going to be the reason that these Jedi were here. In fact, for all he knew, the pair could have been on some important sabotage mission, or something of a similar nature, and he was about to disrupt said prior arrangements and potentially affect the chaos of the battle above ground, a battle he was quite eager to get to. Even now, when he was still someways from the surface, he could already sense the turmoil that the spirits were in, having been summoned to create a maelstrom by one side or the other, but first, there were prisoners to free
It's only a trap if you're not here to save some prisoners...
Satish quickly lead the pair back along the hallway to where the hole leading down to the dungeons was, before he jumped down into the hole first and landed on the ground a couple levels down. He then quickly cleared the landing so as to allow the Jedi to follow him down and not end up with them all stacking on one another. Whilst he bore no great love for force users, the pair he was working with seemed to be trustworthy enough at the very least, so that was a bonus, especially considering the situation and the help that would be needed to ensure the release of all the captives. He waited until both the Jedi had made their descent, before motioning to the various cells lining the walls of the current hallway
As you can see, there is quite a few of them, and I currently lack the resources to ensure their escape offworld and are returned to their families, a task I entrust to you Jedi... See that they are reunited with their loved ones, if they still live.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 29, 2015 21:31:47 GMT -8
Master Titus was being fed updates from the Legio IV as well as the Felucian and Hapan forces, as the dropship made its way towards the Temple Fortress, with the MAS-2xB self-propelled turbolasers in tow. Titus then called off the Turbolasers as the situation appeared to have been won in favour of the coalition as reports came in of the escape made by the last remnants of the former Kashyyyk Sith, meaning that the only work remaining was to clean up the remaining resistance and secure the prisoners. It already appeared that Rutil was moving to get the Spearhead groundside to begin collecting prisoners, something which he did not intend to leave unchallenged, as the dropship set down in a clearing nearby to where the Zabrak Jedi was.
Titus and his men exited the dropship, before it took off again to return to safer territory, with the Praetorians rushing through the breach into the Fortress to assist with dealign with the few straggler's that had been left behind. Titus meanwhile walked up beside Rutil and stopped for a moment, surveying the scene before him as he took it all in, feeling quite relieved that they had managed to free the world of it's former oppressors. Hopefully what ever would replace the Sith, would not be as bad or worse than them, and what ever wookiee's that had grown attached to their former Sith Masters were willing to renounce their ties and work towards a unified and free Kashyyyk.
As it stood, it still remained unclear what was to happen once the battle was over. The Jedi were going to stick around to aid in rehabilitation of the world, but that was only an assumption, and spoke nothing to the plans that the Hapans might have for the world. At the very least, he knew the Chistori forces were under orders to return home once the battle was won and their aide was no longer needed by Master Titus, which was fine by him. It was going to be a tense enough discussion, without anyone suspecting the Chistori of wanting to lay claim to the world. Titus then nodded, keeping his attention focused on the Fortress
Perhaps this next lot of prisoners will see better care than your last ones, yes? Regardless of how you feel about me Rutil, do keep in mind the warning I gave you. It is a dark path that we tread, and it is fraught with danger and deception, I hope you do not fall prey to them. After all, what point is there in us defeating the Sith, if we end up acting no better than them...
|
|
Aerandir Calmcacil
The Jedi Order
Posts: 1,731
Affiliation: The Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Aerandir Calmcacil on Oct 29, 2015 23:40:47 GMT -8
*The response from the figure verified that he intended to lead the siblings to prisoners, but were they the prisoners Aerandir specifically came here for? Regardless, Aerandir had to free them, and if this was only a brief detour, then so be it; there was always time for freeing the imprisoned.
Lowering his weapon, Aerandir only said,* "Very well," *before he and Michelle were being led back down the corridor he came from, to a strange hole in the ground that the figure disappeared into. If this had been a trap, it certainly would have been an elaborate one, especially for a force that was clearly being outnumbered.
Shrugging and muttering,* "Well, here goes," *before leaping down into the hole, using the Force to slow his descent so that he could comfortably roll out of the way, allowing Michelle to drop in behind him and land in a crouch.
He then stood, quickly taking in his surroundings, quickly determining that the only beings present were himself, his sister, the figure who led them here... and the children. So many children. Held in dingy, stinking metal cells, no doubt mistreated and underfed. He looked around at every child gathered in this place, most of them Wookiees; children of rebels no doubt, and perhaps even loyalists, something Aerandir wouldn't put past Sith. There near as many children of other species as well, the majority of these Human or near-Human. It pained Aerandir's heart that they had been taken and held here in such conditions, and that plenty others had been in the past and disposed of... and it also gave him fury, one that would see every single Sith of this fortress pay for their heinous misdeeds.
But their time would come. Now was the time to free them.
The figure spoke, speaking of his lack of resources to protect them and his entrusting their care to the Jedi. When he directed Aerandir to reunite them with their families, Aerandir only nodded.* "I intend to; setting them free is a major reason why I'm here." *He then took his commlink from his belt, speaking into it, addressing any and all allied forces that would answer the call.* "Aerandir Calmcacil here, I am inside the fortress and located several captive children. I am broadcasting my position; requesting assistance in getting them topside. I have a ship ready to extract them, I only need help getting them up there; Michelle and I can't cover this many kids on our own."
*Lowering the commlink, he approached the nearest cell. The children within all looked up at him with various expressions, some of intrigue, but many of fear or hope. He could only hope the cool hue of his blade and the white of his robes stood in enough contrast to the darkness of the Sith to ease their doubts, but speaking certainly would help. Summoning a gentle expression and a kind voice, he said,* "I'm Aerandir Calmcacil, a Jedi. I'm here to get you all out of here. Now please step back..." *He took a step back, some of the children near the front of the cell taking his word; the rest did with gasps as he raised his amethyst blade. He waited until all of them had backed away before he struck the bars, cutting through them and creating an escape for them.*
"Come on out!" *he invited with a wave of his left hand, then pointed towards the open area he had landed in.* "But wait here! Leaving is too dangerous, there are bad guys out there still. I've called some of my friends, they'll be here soon and they'll help you get out of here, then we're gonna take you home."
*"If you still have them," he reluctantly added in his thoughts before moving on to the next cell, turning towards Michelle and instructing,* "Comfort them and keep them together, Michelle, they should trust you."
*She nodded, deactivating her weapon and clipping it to her belt as she smiled and gestured for all the freed children to gather around her.* "It's okay!" *She assured them.* "We're Jedi! Good guys! We're here to take care of you. Are you all okay?"
*As she attempted to herd them together and interact with them, Aerandir continued along the cells, repeating who he was and that he was here to help them, instructing them to back away from the bars before cutting them open and directing them towards where Michelle and the other children were, and moving on to the next cell. The ages of the children varied, from very young to nearly-teenaged. It took all of Aerandir's control not to make any noises of disgust, especially when he needed to show kindness to these children; when these children needed kindness.
Their conditions were so poor; they were all very dirty, and some were only half-dressed, though it seemed that, in at least some of these cases, this was due to some of the children finding kindness in their hearts, even in this dire situation, to share the clothes on their backs with those who had little or none. While this inferred act warmed Aerandir's heart, it was also stricken at the signs of physical trauma on some of the children, though in some cases it was difficult to tell under the dirt.
The next Sith he came across in battle here would not get off so easily...
Finally, he reached the final cell, once more repeated everything he'd told the other children, instructed them to stand back, then cut the bars open. As he stepped aside, directing this final group to where all the other children were gathered, he heard the scraping of one of the stray bars across stone ground. Returning his gaze inside the cell, he laid eyes upon a young girl, grasping the bar uncertainly but clearly intending to use it defensively. She stood there, locking her eyes steadily upon his almost defiantly, and he frowned.* "What's the matter?" *he asked gently.*
"D-don't hurt me." *The hoarse threat ended as a whimper, and she shook, but her grip upon the bar was sure.
Aerandir was almost stunned; this little one actually had the audacity to stand up to someone she feared was an assailant, despite clearly being outmatched? She had either not been captive very long, or had a very strong will. It was impressive, but also disheartening; he was glad he found her first, or else she might have found herself "handled" faster than any of the other kids.* "I'm not going to hurt you," *he reassured her in a soft voice.* "You don't belong in here. You belong home. I'm taking you home."
*Her lip trembled, but whether that was due to something he said or because her entire body was shaking Aerandir was not sure. She then shook her head, clutching the bar a little closer.* "Y-you're lying!"
*This was somewhat concerning to Aerandir; all the other children, even if they remained fearful of the current situation, had at least willingly left their cells and huddled together with the rest of the children. Yet here this girl stood, refusing to budge, refusing to believe the man before them, dressed in white in a fortress of black, was here to rescue them. What had she been through?
He became aware of his weapon's dull hum and, for the first time since entering the fortress, deactivated it, clipping it to his belt. She gasped softly at this, perhaps simply surprised that her imprinted "enemy" had lowered his weapon, but still kept her fearful-yet-defiant gaze locked upon him, grip tightening on the bar. He entered the cell and she backed away, stopping when he crouched down just inside of it, attempting to get on eye level with her.*
"What's your name?" *He asked.*
"Not tellin'!"
*He smiled to himself; he'd expected that sort of answer, so he replied,* "Hi, 'not tellin',' I'm Aerandir."
*She blinked. Then, after a moment, she seemed to fight with her own face, as though refusing to laugh at the attempt at humor from her foe. Good, this was working, although she did protest,* "That's not my name!"
*He chuckled softly, shifting into a cross-legged sitting position as he replied,* "Well then, what's your real name?"
"I don't wanna tell you!" *After a pause, wherein she determined he'd likely use that as another "joke," she added,* "And that's not my name either!"
"'I don't want to tell you, and that's not my name either,'" *he repeated, smirking a little.* "That's a very long and strange name."
*If she seemed amused the first time, the second she only seemed very flustered, groaning.* "Stop making fun of me!"
*While she definitely wasn't pleased, she also seemed far less fearful; not exactly comfortable, but she was shaking far less now. Good, he was calming her down, if not in an unorthodox fashion. Continuing to fluster her though would probably only put her at deeper unease, so he shrugged and said,* "I didn't mean to. I thought we were just having fun, but I'll stop."
*The notion of "having fun" seemed to make her completely still, her only movement a slight tilting of the head, as though the concept seemed so foreign to her. And indeed, perhaps it did, especially considering the situation she and the others had found themselves in. Either way, though she still didn't seem to think of him as trustworthy, she did seem weakened enough to stammer her name.* "M-Mina."
"Mina? That's a pretty name. And much easier to say than Aerandir." *She seemed to take this as a challenge at first, mouth moving faintly as though considering attempting to say the name, but it remained shut. Seeing as she decided not to speak further, he added,* "Listen, Mina, I know I'm a stranger, and I know strangers have done some very bad things to you, but I'm here to get you out of here and take you home. There you'll be able to have more fun, real fun, with better jokes than mine, or at least I hope."
*Her stance seemed to loosen a bit, as she clearly attempted to process his words and decide if this man was trustworthy. Finally, her arms fell to her sides, the bar clattering harmlessly to the floor.* "I'll go with you," *she said at last, almost as though defeated; perhaps she came to the realization that staying here was a certain ill fate, so the mere chance of escape was more tantalizing than certain doom.
Smiling, Aerandir stood.* "That's the way!" *He exited the cell, beckoning for her to follow, and she did so, stepping out into the halls.* "We'll have you home and playing in no time."
*"I hope," he added in his thoughts, noting her less-than-enthusiastic expressions to the mention of "home." But she still joined up with the other children, Michelle welcoming her and asking her if she was okay, though Mina did not respond. Aerandir walked past the group, by now having noticed the cell with the bent bars, no doubt the work of the figure that led him here, as well as the shaft above them. Addressing the figure should he still be present, Aerandir spoke,* "I know not who you are, but clearly you're not our enemy. If there's anything I can do to help you after leaving this place, don't hesitate to ask." *There would also be a hint of sincere gratefulness in his voice; to Aerandir, reaching the children this quickly and being able to ensure their escape meant very much to him.*
|
|
The Shepherd
Member
Posts: 269
Affiliation: Yavin IV Praxeum
Traffic Light: Orange
|
Post by The Shepherd on Oct 30, 2015 3:55:11 GMT -8
Master Titus was being fed updates from the Legio IV as well as the Felucian and Hapan forces, as the dropship made its way towards the Temple Fortress, with the MAS-2xB self-propelled turbolasers in tow. Titus then called off the Turbolasers as the situation appeared to have been won in favour of the coalition as reports came in of the escape made by the last remnants of the former Kashyyyk Sith, meaning that the only work remaining was to clean up the remaining resistance and secure the prisoners. It already appeared that Rutil was moving to get the Spearhead groundside to begin collecting prisoners, something which he did not intend to leave unchallenged, as the dropship set down in a clearing nearby to where the Zabrak Jedi was.
Titus and his men exited the dropship, before it took off again to return to safer territory, with the Praetorians rushing through the breach into the Fortress to assist with dealign with the few straggler's that had been left behind. Titus meanwhile walked up beside Rutil and stopped for a moment, surveying the scene before him as he took it all in, feeling quite relieved that they had managed to free the world of it's former oppressors. Hopefully what ever would replace the Sith, would not be as bad or worse than them, and what ever wookiee's that had grown attached to their former Sith Masters were willing to renounce their ties and work towards a unified and free Kashyyyk.
As it stood, it still remained unclear what was to happen once the battle was over. The Jedi were going to stick around to aid in rehabilitation of the world, but that was only an assumption, and spoke nothing to the plans that the Hapans might have for the world. At the very least, he knew the Chistori forces were under orders to return home once the battle was won and their aide was no longer needed by Master Titus, which was fine by him. It was going to be a tense enough discussion, without anyone suspecting the Chistori of wanting to lay claim to the world. Titus then nodded, keeping his attention focused on the FortressPerhaps this next lot of prisoners will see better care than your last ones, yes? Regardless of how you feel about me Rutil, do keep in mind the warning I gave you. It is a dark path that we tread, and it is fraught with danger and deception, I hope you do not fall prey to them. After all, what point is there in us defeating the Sith, if we end up acting no better than them...
Between the raging storm and the unwarranted chastising, Rutil was not feeling particularly diplomatic."If falling scares you so much, this might not be for you." The old Zabrak made no effort whatsoever to hide his hand in the execution of the Sith that had been aboard the Spearhead. He had his reasons. He had good reasons. And had the Chistori been a Jedi that Rutil genuinely respected, then Rutil would have had no trouble whatsoever explaining his actions in full. But ever since the coalition formed, the Chistori had been nothing but grate Rutil's nerves, and right now he was on the Zabrak's last one.. As far as Titus's explanation went, Rutil would take it to his grave."Especially not if you're so brave as to let your men into the fray without going yourself." |
|
Saris
Member
Posts: 74
Affiliation: Jedi Praxuem of Yavin IV
|
Post by Saris on Oct 30, 2015 9:02:35 GMT -8
When word came in that Windu had fled the fortress rather than remain and fight with his men, Saris' brow furrowed as he considered the ramifications. From all reports, the man believed himself to be the very god he preached himself to be. Fleeing in a moment where his power could be made manifest for all the galaxy to see was uncharacteristic, unless there was something else at play here. While it would no doubt have stroked his ego to destroy all his enemies personally, there would be no need if they were all gathered together. All he would need to do is eliminate the fortress in which they stood, then return to reclaim the ashes.
To be honest, attributing a plan such as that to the self-proclaimed god-king was difficult to do, but perhaps he had been advised against the opportunity to demonstrate his power, and for some unforeseeable reason actually heeded it. Regardless, if Saris' enemies had all been drawn to a singular location and he had the means to achieve it, he would not hesitate to destroy them all in a single fatal blow. That did not bode well for the jedi forces or the prisoners within the fortress.
He moved quickly, slowing only to engage the forces directly in his path as he made his way toward the temple with Anya in tow. While his victims fell quickly to the blades he carried or the lightning he commanded, hers had fallen to the cleansing power of her particular affinity for force light, purged of their darkness by pure, cohesive light and either left unable to touch the force, or destroyed by the depth of their own darkness. She regretted the latter, he knew, but holding fast to the darkness had been their choice, and also their undoing. Much as she refused to admit it, there were those that simply could not be saved.
When they finally reached the temple, it was to find Khazak and his wookiees worked into a battle frenzy, tearing sith soldiers limb from limb, the wookiees rage being fed by the fury of the young warrior, and he in turn feeding on their bloodlust.
"Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all."
Saris merely grunted at Anya's sentiment, content to let the young man use whatever methods could get the job done, so long as those methods were not turned against their allies or the innocent. Anya was much quicker to action, covering the distance between them and Khazak in what seemed a mere moment, placing a hand on his shoulder then raising her other to grip his saber hilt as he spun to bisect his new attacker. She was surprisingly strong for her size, able to hold back the blow with little help from the force as she stared into the furious eyes of the young man. Khazak far surpassed her in terms of sheer power, that much she had known since the day they met, but she had the advantage of experience and training. If he was unable to control himself in this state, she did not want to think about what might happen. They had come so far since she first arrived, and now he stood on a precipice of choice, equally able to fall into darkness as he was to step into the light.
"Calm yourself, Khazak."
As she spoke, her serene presence washed over all those in the courtyard, and the effect on the wookiees was immediate and noticeable. War cries began to diminish, and frenzied roars were all but silenced. Their eyes shifted from red with bloodlust to their more natural tones as their minds began to empty of the fury driving them, returning instead to those of the stalwart warriors and ingenious craftsmen the wookiees were known to be. Second by second, the influence of Khazak's outburst continued to diminish.
"You cannot defeat your enemy by becoming them."
|
|
khazak
Member
Posts: 20
Affiliation: Saris
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by khazak on Oct 30, 2015 20:50:24 GMT -8
Khazak was still consumed by the fire of battle when Anya and Saris arrived. A wookie silverback punched a sith in the jaw hard enough to break it and as the man reeled away Khazak gripped him b the throat, kicked the back of his knee, and finally quickly pulled to the left using the force to enhance the speed and strength. The man's neck snapped as though it were a piece of straw and he fell to the ground blood pooling out of his mouth. As Khazak stood and acknowledged the silverback and the others he felt a presence behind him, a hand gripped his shoulder and he spun to the right his arm extending with intent to kill. Suddenly there was a hand on the hilt of his saber that was not his own and his eyes snapped to the right staring into the calm eyes of Anya.
At first Khazak was too consumed with hatred to realize who it was. However Anya's very presence sent a calming wave through him and the wookies alike. As Khazak stared into those calm eyes his rage slowly subsided. "Calm yourself Khazak, you cannot defeat your enemy by becoming them" Anya said as she gazed back into Khazak's once burning eyes. The blade of his saber retracting he took two steps back looking at her and Saris standing behind her. Khazak surveyed the carnage he had caused, the bodies of the sith lay strewn around them. Dismembered limbs and corpses mutilated by both his saber and the force littering the ground. The hilt of Khazak's saber slipped from his grip and hit the ground rolling to a stop at Anya's feet as the young man fell to his knees. Staring into the grey sky tears fell from his face as well as the rain as Khazak cried out in shame.
"What have I done, Anya forgive me. I..I didn't mean to....the sith....anger...pain...I..I'm sorry" Khazak pleaded slamming his hands into the blood and rain soaked ground. The boy's garments were covered in blood, mud, and grime from the previous battle and as he kneeled before the two before him Khazak understood what true battle was like. It was no simulation or sparring match, it was hell, the bloodlust had taken over him and he had allowed it, no he had fueled it. Not knowing what else to say Khazak stared up at Anya from his knees his yellow eyes pleading for guidance. |
|
Darth Belial
Member
"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
Posts: 220
Affiliation: The One Sith
|
Post by Darth Belial on Oct 31, 2015 18:08:18 GMT -8
With the skies above the tormented temple filled with both the fury of the Hapans and the planet itself, Belial watched the entirety of the battle unfold from a distance. A small smile creased his damaged face as he watched the boiling tempest take shape and shroud the entirety of the ever-shifting temple in shadow. It was interesting to see how the supposed inheritors to his title had worked their magicks, as none were ever alike- yet seemed to fail in spectacular fashion when they were needed the most. Clearly, whatever this was that shrouded the entire complex was an illusion of sorts; one that would confuse any assailant with an ever-shifting design, allowing its defenders a chance to mount a devastating counter attack. Yet, as the veil had parted and the truth was revealed, such an ingenious advantage was carelessly tossed aside. Without the element of surprise on their side, the soldiers within the facility were effortlessly cut down in a storm of blaster fire. Hapan Gunships and the Old Republic ones alike had swooped into the Temple Fortress and became hovering gun platforms, stabbing at the surface with brilliant beams of emerald light. It was a wonderful sight, and such a vision of ensuing death threatened to pull his smirk into something more along the lines of a maniacal grin. What a day this had become, He thought to himself. The Jedi had played their parts nicely, indiscriminately slaying the Sith wherever they may be found, and the same could be said of the Hapans.
He couldn’t have asked for more willing pawns in his game, nor could he have foreseen such a glorious denouement to this lovely excursion.Clasping his hands together behind his rainswept cloak, the Dark Lord watched with fading interest as the violence slowly began to fade into acts of extraction. From what he could see, several of the hovering gun platforms had reverted to their old purpose and descended behind the fortresses walls, beyond his mortal sight. If he so desired it, Belial could’ve let his vision slip into the realm beyond reality to see what took place behind those archaic stone walls, but - his mind was wandering towards more pressing matters. Like the fact that several clusters of loyalist soldiers had broken through the vanguard within the temple fortress, fleeing towards supposed safety within the treeline. The Sith chuckled then, as he caught sight of nearly a dozen S-1 Firehawke Hovertanks emerging from the shadows of the forest. Their main cannons swiveled into position, and the rising fear emanating from within the Soldier’s hearts peaked into a soul-shattering terror. The noise of their broken spirits was ended abruptly as the S-1 Firehawke’s opened fire, startling Belial with how sudden the sound was snuffed out.The continuous stream of crimson light had torn into the fleeing disorderly ranks, killing handfuls of soldiers with every powerful bolt. However, no matter how long the volleys had lasted, the enemy kept coming - as if they were spurned on by something more terrifying than a massed wall of hostile Armour. Wondering what that could be, the Sith Lord had cast his gaze out into the heart of the storm, only to see exactly what that thing was. An entire herd of Terentateks. Such a sight was impossible to behold, as no one could’ve gathered that many of the beasts, let alone kept them docile enough to be bound within a cage for too long. Disbelief hanging heavily in his mind, Belial swiftly found himself gazing into the depths of the force to divine the truth. Clearly these couldn’t be what his eyes had told him they were! And as the veil of reality had been lifted, only to be supplanted by the primordial truth, all he could do was laugh. Of the two dozen lumbering beasts, only one was real. Twenty-three were simply fakes, illusions made by Sith Acolytes standing atop a troop transport. What better way to break through the enemy lines, than prey upon their fears of being trampled underfoot by an unstoppable force? Shaking his head as the lingering thoughts of Sith ingenuity had slipped from his mind, the Dark Lord ordered his tanks to turn their guns upon the towering creatures. Without hesitation, the thunderous barrage had fallen silent for a single heartbeat, before resuming once more with a vengeance. Shattering like the untrue image of the temple before it, the illusions of the lumbering Terentatek’s crumbled before the unleashed fury of the Hapan Battle Tanks, only to be replaced by gloriously violent explosions. Dozens of agonizing screams had echoed into the force, filling the Sith Lord with a small measure of satisfaction. However, as the illusions had faded, that still left the large problem of the sole Terentatek - now enraged and charging towards the Hapan lines. In response, Belial had ordered the Howevertanks to fire-at-will, hopefully stalling the advance of the dreadful creature and giving the Dark Lord a chance to close the gap. He had started running towards the beast as soon as it's fake compatriots had fallen prey to his Armour’s guns, yet despite this advantage, Belial was still some distance away. He wouldn’t make it in time, and the inflicted fatality rate would skyrocket in mere moments. He could’ve broken the bonds that bound his powers, freed himself from the armour and turned his godly might upon the beast, but then… he would’ve ruined everything he had been working towards. Not only would the combined Jedi forces see him for what he truly was, but so too would his beloved Hapan playthings. That couldn’t happen, no matter how dire the situation had become. Thus, reassuring himself that he would simply have to push himself past the limits of his physical exertion, Belial surged forth into the drenched plains of No-man’s land, egging himself on to reach the beast before it could tear into the steadfast line. It was then that he had noticed a speeder bike had swooped into play behind him. He was breathing heavily and had become so focused that he had nearly lost sight of the world around him, but when the roaring engines had pulled him from his tunneling vision, Belial craned his neck to see who would dare rush towards him in such a manner. Much to his surprise and disbelief, it was the Chume’Doro that he had sent planetside hours earlier to connect with Saris and the Rebellion.“Jump on!” She ordered, calling out to him behind the rebreather. Were this in another place, and another time, he would’ve barked at her in return. No one orders the Dark Lord of the Sith like some common Bootlick! However, she did have the very thing that would catapult him towards the beast and intercept it seconds before it reached the tanks. Thus, as his teeth bit into the damaged flesh of his lips, Belial bent his knees and leapt atop the speeder bike. It wasn’t graceful, as he nearly miscalculated the distance and gravity pulling at his armour, but it was enough to see that he fell into place behind the Royal Guard. Clasping an armoured hand about her waist as a brace against the breakneck speed, the Sith Lord’s free hand dropped to his own belt and withdrew the saber hilt. “Get me closer to the beast, I wish to hit it with my sword.” The woman chuckled, as she punched the accelerator.“You plan on taking that thing headfirst?” Belial cracked a hidden smile in response, letting his gaze settle on the rampaging Terentatek. The S-1 Firehawkes had stayed their ground as the thing approached, shelling it with punishing energetic rounds, whilst the troopers on the ground fell back in orderly ranks; stopping periodically to unleash the fury of their own in the hope of halting the creature.
Those who had survived everything the Jedi and Hapans threw at them in the initial assault, were trampled underfoot, torn apart by venomous claws, or gunned down by the azure blaster fire of the Consortium’s battleline.
A fitting end for craven cowards.“Oh, that I do. Can’t let the Soldier’s have all the fun out here!” She nodded, leaving the Dark Lord with the impression that his words resounded within her heart. After everything she had been through, the woman wanted to kill something - to feel like her mission was less of a hollow victory and akin to a more fulfilling one. How strange that such a desire would be shared by the two people that disliked one another immensely. Pushing the thought from his mind, and chiding himself for getting momentarily distracted upon the battlefield, Belial ignited his saber and swept the ground under his feet with the tip of the blade. Let this beast know that Death has come for him. The amethyst beam sizzled in the torrential downpour, causing bouts of steam to billow forth from the cauterizing edges of his blade. The sound of water flash frying into evaporated mist clashed with the chorus of war, becoming yet another note in this beautiful symphony.The Terentatek halted in its tracks as the black beaded eyes had sensed danger fast approaching. While the wounds inflicted by the floating metal boxes had stung the creature’s immense form, whatever it was that sat atop the speeder bike seemed to be the greater threat. Not because of its size, but because of the all too familiar weapon it wielded. Those that caged the beast had wielded weapons like that, and he watched on with rage filled eyes as they experimented upon his kin. Now that he was free, and that he had taken his primitive concept of revenge into the realm of reality, this being would pay. It didn’t matter if the colour of the blade was the vibrant humming hue of freshly spilled blood, the fact he wielded the beam sword alone was enough to sate the creature’s hunger for vengeance. Thus, he would die, then, he would cut the strings of those floating boxes and wound them as they had him.
With the decision set in the stone of his mind, the Terentatek breathed in deep and let out a mighty roar - one that Belial had no doubt was an acceptance of his challenge.“Seems he’s taken notice of you, Hand!” “Aye,” the Dark Lord had said in return, his voice dropping into the depths of his octave range, and slowly pooling with expectant pleasure. He was about to fight a beast from the pages of legend, and the soldier’s of his army would watch him do it. How better to cement yourself as worthy of command, than by slaying the mightiest of foes on the battlefield? “That’s good. Stop here.” In response, the Chume’Doro slowed the speeder bike’s relentless charge through No Man’s land and swung the rear repulsors wide to come to a stylish stop. Such theatrics, Belial thought.“I want you to get back to the frontlines, ensure that any survivors of this attack are subdued in any manner you see fit. Gun them down, or take them prisoner, I don’t care. Anything that’s not Hapan nor Jedi is an enemy here.” Dismounting the speeder bike and trudging through the mud, Belial turned back to his Guardian and cocked his head to the side the a mock imitation of a smile. “Oh, and before I forget, make sure our Jedi friends within the Temple have a ride out. I doubt the God-King would allow us to have this fortress so easily, and the Sith are known for their deadly contingencies.” With that said and done, the Dark Lord swung his vision to face the beast. Though, what gave his heart a sudden skipping beat, was that it did not wait for him to begin the fight. Instead, the creature took advantage of Belial’s momentary diversion and charged the pair. Upon realizing this, the Sith Lord reached into the veil beyond reality and gunned his hand forward - pushing the mounted Chume’Doro out of the way with the force of an invisible aetheric hand. While it wasn’t what he wanted to do, it was what his instincts had told him to do. The woman would’ve been gored to death, and Belial would’ve been placed under the suspicious gaze of those under his command. He had the power to save her life, yet why didn’t he do it? Then his mind began to wonder if his power could’ve stopped the creature in it’s tracks, but as more and more details about the Terentatek had come to life - he couldn’t take the risk if the beast was alchemically immune to his manipulation of reality.With the proverbial arena cleared of anyone besides the two combatants, the Dark Lord brought his blade to bear and swung the violet beam in a deadly arc. Slashing both the drenched air and the rapidly descending talons, Belial swiftly brought the pommel of his saber back towards his chest - cutting deep into the beast’s arm upon the backswing. It roared with a primal rage, that the Sith was slightly envious of. Flecks of aqueous spittle flew forth from the creature’s mouth, tainting the warrior’s armour with the disgusting substance. Wonderful, now it would take aeons to buff out the charnel stench of death. Withdrawing his blade from the Terentatek’s wounded hide and jumping back to a more manageable distance, He began to circle the creature; taking in it’s mutilated details. The barrage from the Hovertanks had taken their toll upon the creature’s mottled flesh, and even though the particulars were hidden from his mortal sight by the lack of natural light, the oozing gashes were bright and vital when he peered beyond the underlying aspect of the truth. There were his openings, and if he could channel his energies… No, that would break his guise. Instead, with the moment of respite coming to a close, Belial looked to the skies and the lightning pealing above.
Perfect, He thought to himself.
Thrusting an armoured gauntlet towards the heavens, the Sith clawed at the coruscating energies above. He mentally warped the air surrounding the Terentatek thereafter, forming a channel of highly ionized particles upon the atomic level. From there, his efforts had culminated in a devastating reaction by the Planet herself. Funneled through the channel of charged ions that he had created a mere heartbeat before, a bolt of superheated plasma stuck the alchemically birthed creature, searing the flesh where the two opposing forces had connected. Several more had struck soon after, incinerating what remained down to the bone. With so much energy pulsating through its form, the toughened hide burst into flames - feeding upon the fuel both within the creature and without. It screamed, emitting a horrid sound that Belial knew he would never forget, as it collapsed to it’s knees. First the tanks, and now the storm? These beasts could take immense punishment and endure it all. Yet, like all things bequeathed with the curse of mortality, there was a limit to how much it could take. “Remind me to never garner an army of these… things.” He said to no-one.Advancing upon the felled creature, Belial drew his saber high and placed his free hand upon the pommel of the hilt. Plunging it down into the seared and extinguished hide, the amethyst lightsaber was devoured by the Terentatek’s skull. Letting a smile cross his damaged lips as he withdrew the hilted blade from its flesh bound scabbard, the Dark Lord deactivated his thrumming blade and reattached the weapon to his waist.A roaring cheer had erupted from the Hapan lines as the soldier’s witnessed their Commander once again do the impossible. Not only had He broken the army’s back at Rwookrrorro, but he had slain one of the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy single-handedly, and had made a show of it too! The sight of him saving his subordinate and bending the very fabric of reality to his whim was inspiring. Who among the Consortium would be foolish enough to doubt this man’s prowess? Sure that’s what had taken place when this invasion had started, but time and time again he had proven himself a capable tactician and a more than impressive warrior. Perhaps the Chume’Da had seen this in her new found mate, and perhaps that made her more than worthy to ascend to the Throne when the crone had fallen to the ill fate that befall all in the end. If she could see the potential within someone of little note, just imagine what she could do with the Cluster as a whole?Turning to face the booming reverie, Belial felt his body give underneath his own weight. For a split second, he had lost the strength to keep himself upright, and fell into the mud swathed ground beneath his feet. Yet again he had underestimated the capabilities of his frail, and crude mortal form. While others of his kind would simply swap out their figure for one with more vigour, Belial had grown attached to this wretched meatbag. He liked being tall and powerful, but ever since his body had endured that Ion storm, everything had been thrown on the wayside. His immense powers were diminished, and whenever he had concentrated too deeply within the skeins of the Force, it sapped at his vitality. Catching himself at the last minute with outstretched hands, the Dark Lord felt a pair of hands clamour at his armour to keep his face from rolling into the filthy ground. He chuckled then, silently laughing at how pathetic he must look to those of his Kin, dwelling within the sea of souls. An all powerful god, or a being of enough power close enough to be considered one that the distinction mattered little, was brought to his knees and required the assistance of someone he couldn’t see to keep whatever remained of his dignity intact.
After catching his second wind moments later, Belial turned his head to face the woman that had kept him from getting a mouthful of vile earth. It was the Chume’Doro he had saved earlier. Unlike the Dark Lord, she was caked head to toe in mud and ash but somehow was able to strike the Sith with how… down to earth she had become. Living among the splendour of the Hapans had given the man a more pretentious stereotype, where he felt that they would never find themselves getting down and dirty with the common dregs of the Universe. Yet, such an image was shattered by how filthy this woman had become. “Sorry.” Was all Belial could say as she helped him to his feet. She laughed in return, loudly.“You just killed a Terentatek, with nothing more than the fury of nature and your laser sword, and all you have to say to me is sorry? You’re an odd man, Varro.” He smiled again at her words.“Aye, that I am.” __________________________________________________________________________________________________ With the location broadcasted upon all channels becoming clear, thanks to the moment of interruption in the atmospheric interference, several hawk swept Hapan gunships had swooped into the heart of the temple fortress. It was there in the courtyard, that their guns had barked with deathly vibrance, clearing out the rabble with stabbing beams of kinetic kill lights and the concussive force of eye-catching explosions. Once the enemy soldier’s without had fallen prey to the scorned women, the blast doors of the gunships shot open, revealing the passengers within. Clad in ornate, form-fitting ivory plates and bearing golden electroplated blasters, the Hapan soldiers disembarked their hovering gun platforms and got their boots on the ground. Shouldering their weapons, the three squads of troopers had silently moved into the Sith temple and chased after the consistently flashing signal on their HUD.
Within the sparsely luminescent corridors, the troopers had cleared a path to their objective with clinical efficacy. Every corner was checked, and every angle was covered by at least one woman with a raised rifle. That was until they had reached a massive hole in the floor that descended into the darkness of the temple, presumably bypassing several checkpoints and armed security details. Motioning to her comrades, the highest ranking officer among their ivory plated number silently pointed out to several members of each squad, ordering them to secure this opening and ensure that no one retakes this passage. Whoever decided to blast this hole, just made their jobs all the easier, and if they weren’t friendly - she would thank them the only way she knew how. Gripping her blaster rifle tighter, the woman stepped off the edge of the shattered hallway and plummeted to the debris-cluttered floor below. Blink-clicking her suit’s thrusters live, her rapid descent was arrested by the thunderous echo of her armour mounted system. Once her feet had touched the rubble below, she deactivated the emergency system and looked up. The woman’s vision had filled with the sight of nearly a dozen women acting as she had, filling her with the momentary flourish of pride.
Now that they were within the depths of the facility, the commanding officer drew up the echolocation of the signal. With the light pulsating faster and faster, she knew that they were close to where this Jedi Calmcacil had requested aide. Wanting to keep up their end of this alliance, the woman charged through the corridors - following the direction of the disturbed debris from the hole in the floor and the direction of the signal - only to arrive at the entrance of the Dungeon.
Palming the wall mounted panel and watching the doors part, the dozen woman had filtered into the prison with their rifles shouldered. That had instantly changed once they had seen what lay within the chamber. In the private patois of their own language, the leading Hapan officer had ordered her soldiers to stand down and aide the Jedi in any way they could. It was then that she slung the strap of her rifle over her head and pulled the battle helm free. Crimson, fire-kissed hair spilled out from underneath the alabaster helmet and hung gracefully short just below her ears. Eyes of the purest sapphire stared out of a face that was seemingly sculpted from marble by noble hands.“Master Calmcacil. I heard you needed a hand. Lieutenant Kiera Orikan of the Hapan Royal Marines, at your service.”
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 4, 2015 19:00:28 GMT -8
Satish had nodded at the Jedi's confirmation that he would look after the children and ensure their return to their homes, and had almost considered taking his leave there and then, but something stopped him. The spirits were not quite content to let his aide in this particular matter be finished just yet, and so Satish moved off towards the entrance to the dungeons, to make sure no unwelcomed guests snuck up on them. That wasn't to say he didn't also keep an eye and ear on the Jedi though, quickly learning their names based on the ensuing interactions, with the pair turning out to be relatives. Aside from their usage of the force, Satish considered them decent people, something which the spirits obviously agreed with, since it was undoubtedly their hand that had lead the Jedi here.
As Aerandir returned with the last of the freed children, Satish made his way back towards the group. Having a Jedi owe him a favour, might one day prove useful, especially since he could use the man's status as a Jedi to secure the friendship of outsiders and ward off attack. He then gave a bow to the Jedi Master, out of respect for the man's actions
One day, I may need your aide, and I will not forget your offer, Aerandir. As for my name, you may call me Satish. And I will aide you in getting to the surface...
Satish quickly spun about as the doors into the dungeon opened and the Hapan forces had poured through the door, the glow of his eyes and tattoo's retaining their white colour as he prepared to knock back the intruders with a gust of wind. However, as the women lowered their weapons, Satish relaxed as it appeared that they were here to aide Aerandir in getting the prisoners to safety as well. He had heard stories of the beauty of the Hapan's, but none of them had come close to the woman that stood before him now
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 5, 2015 18:55:09 GMT -8
Titus gave a smile at the Zabrak's response, and lack thereof on certain points. He cared little for whether Rutil respected him or not, since the feeling was mutual, for he knew the man's lies and treachery would be found out soon enough. In the mean time, he would smile and work alongside the Jedi Order, and wait to see what they would do
Do not mistake concern for others, as fear for oneself... As to my men, they don't need me to babysit them through an attack. If I remember correctly though, was it not you and yours that were the last to land planetside...
It was then, that Titus' attention was drawn to the sudden appearance of a herd of Terentateks, which were then thinned down to but one beast, which was in turn combatted by the metal encased form of Master Varro. He folded his arms as he watched with interest as Varro took the beast down single-handedly. He couldn't help but wonder just what exactly had caused a rift between the man and the Jedi Order, and how serious it had been, since things had apparently not been fixed between them
That's not something you see everyday... Anyway, it's been fun Rutil...
Titus gave a nod to the Zabrak Jedi Knight, before making his way into the fortress, to find his men and see what they had gotten up to
|
|
Aerandir Calmcacil
The Jedi Order
Posts: 1,731
Affiliation: The Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
|
Post by Aerandir Calmcacil on Nov 8, 2015 18:52:39 GMT -8
*The figure had responded that he would remember the offer for aid, and that he would assist Aerandir in taking the children to the surface as well as anyone else that would come their way; his men were still occupying Rwookrrorro and Kepitenochan, ensuring their liberation efforts remained intact, or else he would have known exactly how much time he would be waiting.
Satish, the man finally introduced himself. Aerandir regarded him with a nod, then, now that he had a moment of lull, extended his senses throughout the battleground. Disarray was still present, and in greater amounts. As was pain and death, the Force rippling with anguish at the bloodshed, nearly eliciting sympathy pangs from within Aerandir himself. War was never beautiful, but these Sith had made their choice to serve the darkness, to throw their lives away. He very much wished that every single one of them could be redeemed... But the legacy of the Kashyyyk Sith was a dark one, and it was for the best they eradicated any and all remnants of its filth.
These children, taken from their homes, and possibly their homes taken from them in the process... Looking upon them gave Aerandir even less desire to save their souls, for they'd all damned themselves for committing such an atrocity. Many of them still seemed all-but-hopeless, lost, afraid, unable to trust the Jedi and his child companion who'd freed them from their cells. He couldn't blame them. It wouldn't be the first time he'd rescued children who were broken and were hesitant to trust him. But Mina... he'd never met a child like her, fully confident in the notion that she could fight back against a would-be captor...
The sound of the doors to the chamber sliding open was met by gasps and shuffling feet from the children. Aerandir whirled, lightsaber hilt smacking into his palm, though he didn't activate it; fortunate, too, for a dozen armored Hapan warriors had filed into the prison, weapons initially drawn but put away after a foreign order from their leader.
This, of course, had upset many of the children, who huddled together fearfully as though expecting an execution; some even cried. A sharp feeling of betrayal was felt from Mina, who looked around at the soldiers with both fright and defiance, before settling her gaze on Aerandir with a look of both disbelief and... anger? All Aerandir could do was attempt to soothe their minds, all of them, with a wave of calm drifting out through the Force before turning to the lead soldier, introducing herself as "Lieutenant Kiera Orikan" and stating she was at their service.
They certainly were an impressive unit. With their height, armor, and—at least judging by the lieutenant—facial features, they were almost like something out of a myth. Nodding to the lieutenant, he spoke,* "Thank you, lieutenant. I just need to get these kids out of here and to safety, which, with your aid, will be child's play." *He paused, then added,* "No pun intended." *He was also being careful to pick his words, fully aware of their matriarchal society and very much not intending to even hint of patronizing them.
He turned back to the children once more; most of the crying had ceased, now that they realized the warriors were on their side, but they were still distrusting. He still hadn't seemed to completely win back Mina's trust, but her gaze still bore into him. Again extending a calming wave over the crowd, he said,* "These soldiers are your friends. We're all going to guide you out of this awful place and to the surface, where a ship will pick you up and take you far away from here, back to your homes." *There again was that brief falter in Mina's countenance, but for now he ignored it and continued,* "I know you're scared, but trust us. Michelle and I are Jedi, and we came here to get rid of the bad guys here, including this very building. If I can help it, you won't have to deal with them ever again."
*He then began to give instructions, Michelle aiding him in herding the children into a cohesive group, then suggesting a formation for the Royal Marines that would sufficiently protect them from all angles; for Satish, he suggested whatever position he found most comfortable. Michelle would stay with the children, her role to help keep them calm and in formation as best as distressed children could, while Aerandir led the entire unit as the first line of defense.
Blue amethyst rent the air as his blade came to life, again eliciting gasps from the children, but his movement away from them seemed to ease their minds if only slightly. He looked out into the halls, scanning to be sure the coast was clear. Pulling his comlink from his belt again, he channeled into his troops' frequency, speaking,* "I've found my quarry, making our escape now; prepare the gunship." *Then, the escape began, Aerandir beckoning them out into the halls before following his instinct—and convenient hallway signs—towards the exit. His main plan was to return several floors above, to somewhat-familiar territory, in order to lead them out properly; failing that, he'd seek another exit.
Or make one.
Graciously, their first floor ascension had gone unimpeded, save for a handful of children stumbling on the staircases. It was the second floor where they were met by a few remaining soldiers, including more of those very cumbersome-looking Cathar. Aerandir's blade danced to meet their blaster fire, protecting the shrieking children and the women as they fired back, the combination of their fire and the reflected bolts thinning the ranks. A nudge to his sister was all it took for her to respond as well with a well-timed Force-push into the Cathar, causing them to stumble as their cannons fired and discharged into each other.
Aerandir made quick work to, via the Force, part the sea of bodies, rearranging the armored troopers' less-marred corpses to cover the mangled Cathar corpses, sparing the children's eyes from the gruesome scene. They then pressed on, many of the children shaken from the encounter, but Michelle managed to snap them out of it and get them moving again.
It didn't take long before the wall burst in front of them, a Sith with a blade in one hand and three knives in the other somersaulting in through the opening, flourishing his blade about in a theatrical manner, twirling the knives in his other hand like it was some kind of talent. The next thing he knew, Aerandir's blade was lodged in his chest. Realizing his ridiculous theatrics cost him his life, the Sith could only mutter,* "... shit," *before he collapsed to the ground, dead. Force-pushing the corpse aside, Aerandir waved the increasingly-distressed children onward, up another floor.
Here they were in familiar territory, and there was the hole in the ground that had led him directly to the children. He had the group wait just behind it as he searched past it, making sure there were no threats. Confident there wasn't, he returned to the hole and directed the children around, making sure none of them slipped and fell through. Once they were safely around, Aerandir sprinted back into the forefront, leading the group back towards the large hole they'd come in. Whipping out his comlink again, he hailed the gunship.* "Bring 'er around, we're almost out."
*They were once more unimpeded, but a certain recollection came to Aerandir's mind and, as they neared the large hole where rain swept in and lightning illuminated the halls, he had them slow to a stop. Extending his senses, he found exactly what he expected to find. Addressing the lieutenant, he gave her a brief explanation, and she eagerly took initiative. Leading a few of her men outside of the opening, they turned to the right and opened fire immediately; the Kel Dor Sith, who'd remained to lay in ambush, fell immediately.*
"Shoulda stayed on the can," *Aerandir quipped as he stepped out into the rain. Looking to the sky, he saw the silhouette of his LAAT descending toward them. Turning back towards the group of children, he held up a hand to let them know to stay still before he darted off towards the treeline. This was where he fetched the speeder, bringing it back around just as the gunship descended, the large doors and back ramp opened wide. Aerandir brought the bike up into the ship's ramp, docking it before acknowledging the pilot and disembarking to address the children.*
"Everyone aboard!" *he called out, waving them on. Several children eagerly darted forward to hop into the ship, but many remained, still fearful. Aerandir was briefly distracted as he looked up at the walls of the temple...* "Coulda sworn it looked different before we went in," *he muttered, then, putting that distraction aside, looked back at the kids.* "Everything's okay! I'll be taking you to one of the Wookiee cities and from there we'll find all your homes. C'mon!"
"It's safe!" *Michelle supplied.* "You're all free! Just get on the ship!"
*They were still hesitant, but one child was brave enough to break from the group and dart forward, which was followed by another, two more, and soon the entire group flooded toward the ship. Mina passed Aerandir, stopped, turned to look at him, seemed to want to say something, then remained silent and headed for the ship. Michelle also headed for the ship as Aerandir remained to address those who were gracious enough to aid him.* "I can't thank all of you enough," *he called out over the downpour, steam hissing from his blade still.* "May we meet again as comrades-in-arms, or perhaps in less-dire conditions." *Turning toward Satish, he added,* "Can I offer you a ride somewhere as well?"
|
|
The Shepherd
Member
Posts: 269
Affiliation: Yavin IV Praxeum
Traffic Light: Orange
|
Post by The Shepherd on Nov 9, 2015 15:04:30 GMT -8
Things had been growing more dramatic by the minute in the battle. The rain and lightning set the scene, the rising action was punctuated by the sounds and sizzling of blaster fire, the clashing of lightsabers, and the falling of friend and foe. And then, in a mighty crack of lightning, the climax had been reached, heralding the end of the Sith's reign in an indisputable display of power. Now came the time to close the curtains; from here, everyone would speak their final lines, take a final bow, and exit one way or another until the time came to reconvene once more. And for the few words he spoke on the matter at hand, Rutil Iorek couldn't have been happier.
Master Varro had single-handedly slain a terentatek. An impressive display of power, to be sure, and the undisputed sign that Windu's abominable reign had come to an end. It was mighty. It was awesome. And it completely shattered whatever trust the aging Zabrak had placed in the man. In all of recorded history, there had been very few to achieve such a feat, and not a single one of them had walked in the light when they did it. Only the Sith had ever accomplished anything comparable. Rutil was forced to think back to the Shadowlands, where Saris - a stranger, yet undoubtedly not of the dark side - had performed a similar trick to enable their final assault on the fortress. Almost on instinct, the Zabrak stretched out with his feelings, taking a second look at his gray-skinned ally. The Force led his mind to the middle of the battlefield. As before, there was nothing of the dark side in him. But he stood directly across from a Sith, through and through, whose sudden, palpable despair was only the thinnest of masks to hide a slowly-subsiding torrent of rage and hatred. And just like that, his mind was made up, and Rutil lost two potential allies instead of one.
Master Calmcacil was emerging from the ever-changing fortress now, and younglings of all species and genders were rushed onto an incoming LAAT transport. He and his companion both, still smiling and joking with one another even as they cut down their enemies. Another stranger emerged alongside them, another casualty of the Sith reign, no doubt. Inwardly, Rutil felt the need to admonish them; this was a war, damn it, and hardly the time to be grinning from ear to ear. But on the other hand, the Zabrak was relieved; foolish and naive though he may have been Calmcacil was farther from the darkness than anybody else there, and the unambiguous good that came from rescuing younglings was a bright spot in a campaign that was increasingly muddied. It seemed, then, that the Grand Master of the Felucian Conclave would be leaving Kashyyyk without so much as a mud stain on the hem of his cloak.
In all, everyone there had fulfilled their roles.
It was time, then, for Rutil to fulfill his own.
Men, Rutil growled into his comlink, holding it close to be heard over the storm, take custody of whatever prisoners we have and take them aboard the Spearhead. Double-time it.
There weren't as many prisoners to take this time, relatively speaking; out of the hundreds that must have fought against them, only a paltry seventeen Sith had surrendered. Dozens of common soldiers, but few true enemies of the Jedi. But Force-wielding or not, monster or not, they were of the Kashyyyk Sith.
And they would be dealt with accordingly.
|
|
The Shepherd
Member
Posts: 269
Affiliation: Yavin IV Praxeum
Traffic Light: Orange
|
Post by The Shepherd on Nov 13, 2015 14:12:14 GMT -8
Without any audible complaint, the surviving Sith prisoners were loaded into the lowered cargo hold of the CR90 corvette. Some did not speak because they fully agreed with Master Iorek's idea and his ideology. Some did not speak because they were terrified of the possible reprisals from the barely-hinged Jedi. And the rest did not speak because there simply wasn't much to say; it was not their place to question a superior's orders, but simply to carry out the task and trust their judgment. Forty-one Sith soldiers stepped onto the cargo elevator, each clapped in binders and stripped of their weapons and personal effects, with the odd one here or there sneering at their captors. Their own superiors, seventeen Sith Lords, their talents ranging from lowly acolyte to seasoned warrior, weren't nearly so stoic; some wore masks of anger, and others' faces were pale with terror, but all of them could already feel the metal floor lower with a sickening lurch and the Kashyyyk wind ripping their legs out from under them before the emptiness of open air and the screams of their comrades escorted them to the ground below. Several of their comrades had already met such a fate, and their ends had left an imprint on the Spearhead that their pawns were oblivious to.
But try as they might, something already on the ship was stopping them from powering through their restraints and fleeing. Their very ties to the Force were being played with, the rivers of their collected power dammed and their abilities as sealed as their fate.
----------
As the familiar processes of liftoff commenced, Captain Marris marched towards the corvette's stateroom, each step progressively heavier as he meandered through the white corridors of his ship. His heart raced, threatening to break out of his ribs and go flying down the hall; for all he knew, he was signing himself up for a mutiny charge. Had Master Calmcacil been aboard, Marris's coming discussion would have been met with a sit-down, or at the very least a promise of one. But in the best case scenario, Master Iorek would slam the door in his face and tell him to stay the course. And if that was the case, Marris chided himself, he knew all too well that he would press the issue. The olive-skinned captain had already spoken to the soldier that had lowered the cargo elevator the first time; he was now consigned to a bed in the ship's pithy infirmary, gauze stuffed inside two slit wrists until they could re-up their bacta stores.
Marris rounded the last corner, the drumming of his heart drowning out even the whine of the engines or the hammering of rain on the ship's hull. With the final few steps, the captain took a deep breath and raised his finger to the door control. He was stopped; the door slid open almost of its own accord, and just beyond the threshold was the green-eyed Zabrak warrior. There was a tense silence for a few seconds as the two men read each other, both still, both unblinking. After what felt like an age, Rutil spoke first.
"Yes, Captain?"
After another age, Marris replied.
"Sir," Captain Marris said with a steeled voice, "as you know, Master Calmcacil placed us under your command. And we will follow your orders as such. But...sir, we're still very much under Master Calmcacil's purview, and he would not approve of you using one of his ships as an execution chamber. I recognize the necessity of it, and mean no disrespect, but the crew and I cannot..." Marris said, pausing as he collected himself, "I cannot stand by while it happens again."
Iorek was silent.
----------
The man had a point. Not one that Rutil necessarily agreed with, but a point nonetheless.
Ever since Naboo, the Jedi gargoyle had been especially driven to carry out his sworn task and end the Sith once and for all. And for that he made absolutely no apologies. But the captain's fear of him - and they were meant to be allies, after all - was coming off of him like oil off of water. The anguish of the man he had told to condemn some thirty Sith to death came and went from the ship's infirmary in pulses. Rutil couldn't have cared less about the act; the Sith were monstrous, those that followed them were foolish and monstrous, and neither could be allowed to wreak havoc on the galaxy. But he was mentally, physically, and emotionally ready for a total war against the masters of the dark side of the Force. He had been ready ever since a single soldier in white armor wiped them from the galaxy.
It was all too clear that Marris and his crew were not.
And though it took the Jedi a moment for it to register, it became clear that Marris wasn't asking for the Sith to live, but only that they not be the ones to execute them. For all their resentment, Marris and his crew had been unfailingly loyal. It was a fair request.
"I understand. We will dock with the closest Battle Dragon and have them take the prisoners from there."
Without another word, the door between the two men slid shut.
|
|
Darth Belial
Member
"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
Posts: 220
Affiliation: The One Sith
|
Post by Darth Belial on Nov 15, 2015 9:54:02 GMT -8
Throughout the ages, the Jedi have preached of the Darkness and its corruption; of “Chaos” and it’s seemingly random nature. These are nothing more than falsehoods, lies that have festered uncontested throughout time immemorial. It was true that there was a sentient malevolence beyond the veil of reality, as well as one of benevolence, but the true natures of either end of the spectrum were mired in the ignorance of mortality. In the end, it didn’t matter which side had accurately encapsulated the true scope of their powers. For when the last day dawned upon the final battle of this eternal war, nothing would remain - save the primordial truth. Though that was a grim vision of the future, it would mean the beginning of a new cycle; one that lacked the imperfections borne by the light.
However such flaws were not Ashla’s burden alone to bear, for the servants of the Darkness too had proven to be unworthy of the mantles they now adorned. Sith; Dark Jedi; All of them had failed to heed the Master’s call. The Darkside, as mortals understand it, does not corrupt the hearts and minds of those that follow it’s seductive teachings. It merely exists, as all things do. Instead, the powers of the darkness lie in revelation. Every sin one has committed, every dark secret, and deepest desire are made apparent. The metaphysical will of the Annihilator takes these hidden truths and inscribes them upon one’s flesh for all to see. There had been one infamous example of this truth that the Galaxy had failed to witness, seeing only the devastation he wrought in pursuit of his unknowable goals. Darth Sion. A man whose very flesh was held together by his very hatred for pain. Though his short-lived cycle of immortality had proven to be nothing more than a wasted opportunity, it had given rise to a greater understanding of the force and it’s capabilities.
However, like all things in regards to this mystical power, it failed to comprehend the Force in its entirety.
The universe had come close, thousands of years later when the first being was sent from the void. Abeloth. Though she would tell you that her moment of enlightenment had succeeded, despite her body and essence being cast back into the realm of chaos, she was partially correct. That vile creature had shown a select few mortals the primordial truth, of the realm that lay beyond the shadows and the throne of balance that resided there. Sadly, those that had born witness to this divine sight had refused to share what they had learned, even going so far as to kill one another to preserve this secret. How foolish of them. There was no truth, nor nothing to gain from keeping this knowledge away from the mortals of this side of the veil. It did nothing for them to live on in the blinding light of ignorance. That was the truest evil.
With his strength returning to his mortal frame, Belial stood to his full height and admired his kill. Though there was little flesh remaining of the creature, the scent wafting off its corpse was something beyond foul. The Dark Lord doubted he would ever be able to rid himself of the sense memory - even if he scrubbed the recollection from his mind. As he stood before the roasted beast, his mind had begun pooling into lands around them, soaking in the rippling tides of agony that surrounded him. Power washed out from his metal-bound form in sickening hue ivory, lacking the warmth normally associated with an Aura of the Jedi. To the most studious of minds, it was like bathing in the memory of sunlight. This sight within the aether had blended almost too perfectly with the conflicting tides of ambient air that had suffocated them all. Yet, as the ochre hues of dismay had despoiled the coruscating cacophony of colours assaulting Belial’s senses, he began to wonder who had become disillusioned with his manufactured disguise. It was then that his eyes had been drawn towards an all too familiar presence, the Jedi Iorek.
As the Zabrak had left this wretched world upon wings of Iron and Fire, the Dark Lord knew that his disguise would unlikely work - should the two of them ever cross paths again. His mind was seemingly a simple thing, casting those he deemed more powerful than him into the same category with the hated Sith. Belial couldn’t blame him, for if their places upon this stage had been switched, he too would have come to the same conclusion. Bereft of answers to burning questions, the mind had always wandered towards assumed absolutes. It was a dangerous path to walk if one had pursued the scholarly arts, yet in the mind of a warrior - such things were commonplace. To them, there needed to be little evidence in order to draw forth a resolution. They simply acted first, then let the answers come to the fore after all had been said and done.
It was admirable, for how small minded it was, but alas - such a path was not one he could follow. Nevertheless, as the Warrior-monk had left the surface of this benighted world, the Sith Lord’s attention fell upon the vast expanse of the battlefield. He had felt something odd before, a momentary pulse of dark energies emanating from within the forest. At first it was brushed off as nothing more than the lingering traces of the Kashyyyk Sith being exterminated with extreme prejudice, but now that the tempestuous tides of the Force had calmed, Belial had seen this sensation with clarity. A boy, caught in the conflicting throes of his own uncontrolled emotions, desiring to be free of their cloying grasp. It was hypocritically foolish of the adolescent to deny himself of the power his feelings would give him, but the darkness was never the easiest of paths to embrace - despite what the Jedi have said. There was a thin line between becoming the Master of your emotions, and a slave. Many Sith that have populated the galaxy until now, have been nothing more than slaves preaching of their freedom.
They are weak.
They were fools.
And in time, they shall die for the unforgivable sin of ignorance and failure.
Casting his gaze elsewhere, as his interest in the boy fluttered like a leaf upon the wind, Belial turned towards the Chume’Doro that had helped him save the lives of those he commanded. She was beautiful, as all Hapan women were, but there was something else that lingered behind her shrouded veil. Something that Belial could not see clearly. He had recognized the first of many layers as admiration, but underlying that… was a mystery. Perhaps if he had forced his state of mind upon her, he would unravel the truth behind this little riddle, but that would serve no purpose but his petulant sense of selfishness. He wasn’t some Dark Jedi fumbling around in the dark. Belial was truly a Sith, and he wanted to have some measure of enjoyment in solving this conundrum. Until that time had come, Belial put the thought from his mind and moved onto more pressing matters.
While it was true they had broken the back of these pathetic wretches, they had failed to take the head. Windu and several of his followers had escaped, but in their haste they had left behind their supposed legions of subordinates. How fitting it was for a coward to flee from his sins in the face of just retribution. Sighing heavily, Belial turned his eyes towards the forest and recalled the secrets he had pried from the mind of that fool back in Rwookrrorro. While his newfound companions were safely escorted to a less dangerous part of the battlefield, they had been instrumental in finding the hidden academy dwelling within the heart of the Shadowlands. Once the Jedi had left and his forces had recovered any casualties they had sustained, he would walk the fulgurite; path dealing with the infestation of cowardice at its source.
“And so concludes this chapter of the Purge,” The Dark Lord said, once he was alone amidst the dead. “For tomorrow, another shall begin.”
____________________________________________________________________________
|
|
