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Post by Kohnyn Skirata on Jan 19, 2021 10:10:11 GMT -8
Kohnyn continued to stalk through the halls, finding the terminal he sought, he slammed a dataspike into the terminal and began to download ships files to his onboard computer. He plotted a course to the reactor, where a large number of pirates had set up a defensive position. Idiots that they were, they set up at lower elevation from the entrance and Kohnyn grinned savagely. He put together an assault plan in his head as he approached the reactor, and moved to put it into action. They had sealed the door, but that was a small matter. He quickly crouched down and; using a thermal detonator, the expended shield cell, and a blaster pack constructed a shaped breaching charge, which he affixed with a squirt of explosive gel to the door. Running a wire, he switched his helmet mode to protect against flash and sound and grasped a pair of flashbangs. He triggered the explosive blowing shrapnel into the reactor room, and threw both flashbangs in, before charging into the room. A few lucky souls had found cover, but disoriented as they were, Kohnyn had trouble finishing them off with his blaster and axe.
::Marauder to Moxie bal Nexu, I have taken the reactor, how much time do you need?
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Kel Sentriss
The Vegemite Enclave
Soon.
Posts: 174
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Post by Kel Sentriss on Jan 22, 2021 16:58:52 GMT -8
Archais crouched with his back to the few crates that provided cover as the whine of blaster bolts rang behind him. His best guess was there was a little over a dozen pirates remaining in the loading bay, and if the hail of energy ringing into the chamber was any indication all of them were currently firing on his position. Thinking quickly, he exchanged the knife in his right hand for the shield in his left, and after a moment's centering himself he exploded into action.
To this point, Archais had used a trickle of the Force to augment his physical skills as he pushed his body further and further. He still didn't know how much the aftereffects of the carbonite freezing could be hampering his body, or how a lingering side effect could manifest itself at a critical moment. The time had come to fully involve himself.
His right arm cocked and hurled his shield at the helmward bulkhead, deflecting off the wall with a spark and in the general direction of the mass of pirates. Turning his attention forward, he placed both hands on the deck and uncorked the nervous energy that had accumulated in the moments leading to his pinning behind the crates. He'd dealt death today, and the raw emotion that accompanied had churned within him, demanding release. He assented in the form of a pulse that emanated from him, catching the crates and hurling them forward as the energy shockwave propagated through the rest of the chamber.
Archais flexed his legs, and vaulted into the air. The Force stretched his perception of time once again, and he had a moment to take stock.
Three of the pirates had been struck by the flung crates. Whether it left them killed, incapacitated or otherwise was impossible to tell. The Gamorrean lieutenant was on the deck, but he couldn't see why. Of the remaining ten, half had taken the approach of redirecting their fire to his currently-leaping form, while the remaining half had been sufficiently spooked or felt it was more tactically appropriate to scatter for cover. His thrown shield was on a trajectory to miss any of the pirates, but a brief nudge through the Force was enough to align its edge with two of those redirecting their aim to him. As he landed, the shield's razored perimeter cut across the first and second in the span of a few fractions of a second, and both went down in a spray of blood.
The shield continued on, and Archais thrust a hand at another of those whose fire was tracing toward him. The palmed knife flung out to catch him in the eye, and the man began to crumple wordlessly. A shiver through the Force prompted him to spin leftward, evading a hail of fired blaster bolts in the process. As he came through the turn, he planted a foot and splayed fingers at pair who'd fired, sending an arc of lightning in their direction and charring the pair black.
His shield had richocheted against the opposite wall by now, and another nudge through the Force sent it to sweep the legs from two of the runners. Its honed edge cut through flesh, sinew, and bone like nerf butter, and it continued on as the two toppled.
As his gaze swept for the next threat, analyzing, his foot hit something. Archais glanced downward to find that he'd nearly stepped on the dropped flechette launcher the Gamorrean lieutenant had hoisted just moments earlier. He called the weapon to his right hand and levelled it at three of the pirates that were turning on him. He pulled the trigger.
The kick was impressive, even reinforced as his arm was against such power. He felt the strain in the cybernetic mounts to his shoulder socket, and nearly had to step back. When his vision settled, the three were on the ground in varying degrees of integrity with the razor flechettes buried in their skin.
The Force prompted him to turn to the right, and another blast from the flechette launcher levelled the three pirates who'd been recovering from being struck by the flung crates. If his math had been right, that left one more-
At a lightning prompt from the Force, Archais leaped into the air and twisted into a spin that landed him facing the opposite direction. His shield had ricocheted back directly at him, and his leap had carried him just over its before it landed squarely into the midsection of the last pirate who'd tried to jump him from behind. The man coughed blood once, and went down slack.
Archais scanned the room once more to confirm all two dozen pirates were either dead or sufficiently dismembered as to not pose further threat. He walked briskly to the downed Gamorrean and summoned the Force to propel the create upward and into the waiting grasp of his metallic hand, which presently held fast the creature's thick neck. He saw now that the initial shield throw had taken the being's arm, and he was quickly losing blood. Archais gave a tight squeeze to snap the piglet out of his stupor, and spoke low.
=Archais= "I'm looking for the man who carries my blade. Tell me, where is Jayse?"
The Gamorrean choked out a few weak sobs as he struggled to get the words out.
=Gamorrean= "B-bridge. Plea-"
=Archais= "Thank you."
Archais applied a crushing force, heard the snap, and dropped the Gamorrean to the deck like a sack of bantha meat. He took a moment to admire his handiwork strewn about the loading bay, then identified the corridor that would lead him to the bridge. As he took off at a brisk walk, he called his shield back to his arm, shouldered the flechette launcher, and listened as his comm buzzed to life.
=Skirata= :Marauder to Moxie bal Nexu, I have taken the reactor, how much time do you need?:
=Archais= "Marauder, this is Nexu. Plans have changed - our exit strategy has been compromised. Moxie is identifying alternate transport off the ship. You'll need to hold the reactor until we can formulate our next move. Be aware - I've waylaid a squad headed your way, but they're likely to be sending reinforcements from elsewhere on the ship. Be prepared to engage."
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Post by Yoko Ohnaka on Jan 28, 2021 7:09:47 GMT -8
The rest of her trip was progressing smoothly enough. Whatever the others were doing seemed to be more than sufficient to draw most of the rabble away from the bridge and command. But not everyone. As she padded down the corridor that would take her past the bridge, she didn't have to try very hard to hear the skeleton crew that had stayed put. Namely, it was Jayse making the noise—one of his trademark melt-downs. Back when she worked for him, and especially when she’d shared his bed, she’d been on the receiving end of a number of melt-downs just like it.
Shaking her head, she did her best to sneak past the door as silently as she could—never mind that it was closed. She didn’t know if Jayse was any match for the people she was working with, but he was a force to be reckoned with in his own right. And she was none too keen on drawing any of his ire.
One step. Two. Three. Four, five, and safe!
But as the smirk of triumph was still blooming across her lips, she heard the door hiss open.
Fuck, was all she had time to think, before she heard Jayse storm into the corridor behind her. “I don’t know who these kriffing sons of bastards are,” he was ranting, “but if I find them—Yoko?! What in the HELL are YOU doing here?!”
And then, she felt his heavy hand on her shoulder for all of a second before she was sent into the wall, forcefully. Quick on her heels, she felt him brace a forearm against the back of her neck, “All of this is your doing?” he asked in a hiss, lips against her ear.
“N-no,” she croaked back, “I’m just a less-than-willing accomplice to the r-responsible party.”
“Liar!” He barked, making her wince as he redoubled the pressure on her neck.
All the sudden, she was tired of all of it. As hard as she could, she back-kicked Jayse right in the family jewels. Sure enough, the pressure on her neck abruptly disappeared.
She whirled around and brought her blaster down, butt-first, on top of his skull. “Fuck you, Jayse,” she snarled. “Deal with what’s coming on your own.”
Then, completely ignoring the gobsmacked crew that had followed him out into the corridor, she took off at a sprint towards her destination.
A couple of corridors later, and she was certain that she wasn’t being followed.
Still, though, her own anger at Jayse continued to boil just under her skin. No more fun and games.
She didn’t stop until she was standing in front of the control panel for the data core. Behind her, she’d closed, locked, and barricaded the door, to delay any would-be pursuers. She took a moment to crack her knuckles, and then she keyed her way into the data she was looking for. Nexu, Marauder. Got our ship. It's a YT-2550, called Vinegar Stroke.
She quickly told them where the ship was berthed, and added that she was downloading ship command data as well, just in case.
I’ll meet you two there. Moxie out.
While she was still at the console, she made sure to download the navigational data that Jayse had acquired, as well as any personal logs. With any luck, she’d be able to find something juicy therein that she and Aari could circle back around to and exploit, later. Or, at the very least, maybe she’d be able to sell her findings. Finally, she concluded her ‘research’ by finding an alternate route down to the hangar, not wanting to encounter Jayse again if she could help it.
Then, she was off.
On her way out, she spotted a tracking device lying on another console of some sort. Thinking of Sijik, she grabbed the device and pocketed it before she realized what she was doing. Maybe the other weequay would make it off of this doomed ship. Maybe she could even make sure that he did. And, as she left the data core behind her, her mind started racing with possibilities.
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Post by Kohnyn Skirata on Jan 28, 2021 11:12:17 GMT -8
Kohnyn had hastily erected some defensive positions, and they were currently proving their worth as he held back a squad of pirates. He was having a fine time, but his ammunition was running low, and soon he'd have to figure a plan to draw them into close combat if he were to have any chance of fighting clear. His com chirped, Moxie checking in. ::Tayli'bac Moxie, waiting on word from Nexu. Ready to blow it wh...:: An explosion close to him threw him on the ground and his comms went dark. His helmet stopped responding, flashing error messages. An EMP had disrupted his electronics, and he swore loudly as he pulled his helmet off to see properly. He clipped it to his belt as he forced himself up, the power to his armor fluctuating wildly as the backup cell struggled to compensate. "Clever chakaare, have to do this the old fashioned way."
He had barely pulled himself upright when a pirate was upon him, swinging a vibrocutlass. He turned the blow on his vambrace and lashed out with his free hand to grasp the beings throat, slamming it's head into a durasteel crate and fracturing his skull like an egg. He pulled the cutlass from nerveless fingers, just as a klatooinian slammed a vibroaxe into his backplate. Kohnyn staggered forward, off balance without the power of the armor to compensate. He turned in time to receive another blow to his chest, which pushed him against his own fortifications, and he snarled in fury, his studded crushgaunt lashed forward into the center of the alien's face, and he followed through with a savage blow from the vibrocutlass, tearing his entrails out. A third pirate was upon him, but Kohnyn had his footing back, and contemptuously parried the blow, wrapping his arm around the pirates neck and holding his back to his chest, using him as a shield. He held him up and stole his blaster, using it to drop the rest of his fellows as their bolts slammed into the unfortunate devaronian.
He dropped the corpse, and kept his blaster. He ducked down and checked on his helmet, the EMP hardening did it's job, and the system had reinitialized, along with the power for the rest of his armor. He pulled his helmet back on, and commed back out. ::That was bracing. Marauder to Nexu and Moxie, I need word on when to blow the reactor::
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Kel Sentriss
The Vegemite Enclave
Soon.
Posts: 174
Affiliation: The Second Imperium
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Post by Kel Sentriss on Jan 29, 2021 18:42:11 GMT -8
Archais's remaining jaunt to the bridge was an uneventful one. It took a few minutes, aided by more than one appreciably-empty high-speed lift, but at last he'd arrived at the bridge deck after evading a scant number of scattered crewpersons. The bridge bulkhead lay ahead at the end of a dimly-lit corridor, and with flechette launcher slung over his right shoulder Archais keyed the entry and sauntered in.
He was almost surprised to find the bridge largely empty. This had been a warship once, and it was designed to have entire teams assigned to the various systems she needed to operate. As was, there were fewer than a dozen beings at the various stations, and judging by the way more than one set of eyes widened in unmistakable fear, he hadn't been expected.
At the far end of the bridge, ahead of a floor-to-ceiling viewport that offered an expansive view of the empty space ahead, stood a man with a sword slung across his back. That sword reached to Archais, and if it hadn't been apparent from the start it confirmed this was his target. Archais spoke, letting the Force mix with his ruined voice to carry it to Jayse's ears. His eyes narrowed as his prey stood ahead.
=Archais= "You."
Jayse bristled visibly before turning back in a flurry. His eyes locked on Archais, and he took a step back.
=Jayse= "And now who are you? I have an entire team ransacking my engine room and my brain-dead guns let you walk right into my bridge! What do you people want?! My ship? My crew? Tribute? Slaves? WHAT?!"
The man was in a fragile state, that much was evident form his outburst. The timbre of his voice had risen as he spoke, and the anger he felt had him in its hand. He'd felt that raw emotion before, and in the hands of a Force-sensitive it could be a dangerous thing. In the hands of a mere pirate, it was little more than a dun fuse. As he replied, he felt power sizzle in his veins. The dark side was rousing as he took a slow, tangential pace. He needed to savor this.
=Archais= "Come now, Jayse. You have only one thing that could be of any interest to me. Something of mine you found recently."
Jayse's eyes furrowed in anger, and he cocked his head in confusion before realization hit him.
=Jayse= "You mean the sword? I'm afraid it's not yours anymore! My crew found it on the float nine years ago! Plus, I think it likes me," he said with a sadistic grin and a flourish of the blade. It gave its customary metallic hiss as it left the scabbard, and the sight of it set Archais's blood aflame. There was indeed an energy emanating from it, a sort of...encouragement. It tasted blood soon to be in the air, and it was thirsty.
But wait. What had the captain said? Nine years? The odds of encountering what must've looked like random debris in the midst of space was astronomically low (quite literally). That meant he'd been asleep for...there was no telling. Distressing, but he compartmentalized that distress and neatly filed for later consideration. As was, his eyes passed just off his target and to the holoscreens at the station to his immediate right.
=Archais= "You have no idea what you found. I'm going to enjoy taking it from you."
At that, he flared his senses, and time slowed.
He'd had a moment to gauge that the station nearest the captain was the power regulation for the bridge. Taking a step forward, he dropped the barrel of the flechette launcher into his waiting left hand and leveled a blast directly at the console. Right on cue, the lights on the bridge flared and died, and the red emergency lights came to life as Archais spun left.
A trio of blasters rang out, filling the space he'd occupied with bolts as the crewman, still radiating fear, nevertheless responded as pirates tended to. dropped the flechette launcher, and catapulted himself forward toward two of the few pirates on the bridge. He landed between them with splayed arms, squeezed his right fist, and jabbed three times as his wristblade extended. The two fell with a whisper, and he seized his shield in his left hand and hurled it as he turned, embedding it in the far bulkhead - it caught another pirate in the chest and left him nearly cut in half as he choked on his own blood.
The force screamed in his ears as he turned, his aim perfect as he leveled the stolen blaster at the captain. Events had moved so quickly that it had been a scant handful of seconds since the lights had died, not nearly enough time for a recovery or any sort of defense. He was sure. His senses were honed to a deadly edge. He was guided by the dark side, arm on the perfect vector. He squeezed off the shot-
And was caught by surprise to realize the bolt had been deflected back at him. It nearly took his ear off, and the smell of singed hair hit him a half a moment later. He stood in the darkness, befuddled. That was impossible. Impossible for anyone who wasn't-
=Archais= "A Force-user."
He couldn't see Jayse's sick grin, but he could certainly hear it.
=Jayse= "That's right. And now you find out why I'm the Terror of Raxus."
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Kel Sentriss
The Vegemite Enclave
Soon.
Posts: 174
Affiliation: The Second Imperium
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Post by Kel Sentriss on Jan 29, 2021 19:18:23 GMT -8
Archais barely had time to begin formulating a new plan when he felt the compulsion, and he twisted his upper body and stepped back as the slash, which would have taken his arm off had he been a hair slower, whistled through empty space. How had he moved so quickly? A backhand blow came, and Archais brought his right arm up to meet it as his left foot planted for leverage. The sword and the forearm met with a spark, and even augmented with the dark side's power, it was all he could do to hold steady. What strength!
=Jayse= "You Force-users. You think you're gods, chosen to step on the rest of us."There was a sneer in his voice, and Archais couldn't offer a rebuttal lest his strength slip."We exist out here. We go unnoticed by your cults, by your foundations. Made to scrape for anything we can. Oh, you have no idea how much I've wanted to hurt one of you."
There! Archais felt the blade twist fractionally, and he took a bold play. He slipped his arm up and around, quickly wrapping his arm around the blade and tucking it into his armpit. A quickly downward slash would score his right flank, but it allowed him to pull, bringing Jayse with him and driving Archais's forehead into the man's nose. It gave with a sickening crunch, and the sword's heft yielded as the man staggered backward. Archais didn't let up.
A threw two quick jabs with his wristblade. One was deflected, another missed as Jayse evaded. Archais was forced to deflect with his forearm again, catching an overhand strike that would doubtless score even the ultrachrome plating. He summoned his strength and managed to throw the blow off, continuing the turn and planting a snap-kick into Jayse's chest.
Jayse was thrown back, and he landed in a tumble. He rose, slowly, and chuckled as Archais maintained his stance, breathing heavily.
=Jayse= "Ah, what a nice change of pace." He spat, and Archais could almost taste the blood in the air."You cleave a few tourists now and again, let your boys do the heavy lifting, you forget what it feels like to dance with lady death. You forget what it feels like to be alive.
"I wasn't always a vagabond, you know? I grew up on Hapes. Tough for males there, and I grew up groveling at others' feet. Had to learn to fight. Got in more than on dust-up, then went a little too far one time. Been running since, then landed here and stopped running. Started taking. I grovel for no one now. Not about to grovel to you."
A pulse emanated from him, and Archais was caught off-guard by its ferocity. Stupid - Jayse had fueled the pulse with his own anger, amplified byht he sword's power. He hardly had time to berate himself before he had to dodge another slash from the sword, but it was too quick to allow a follow-up. He moved his head low to avoid a counterblow he thought was coming-
And caught Jayse's uppercut right in the jaw.
The power was unreal. It felt like a garbage trawler was trying to drive through his mouth. He lost his vision a moment as he fell backward, landing in a heap directly on his back. He gazed dumbly as a searing pain erupted from his left shoulder, and the pain sharpened his vision. Above him stood Jayse, holding the hilt of the sword that had pierced just above Archais's heart.
Jayse knelt low as a growl loosed from Archais's lips. He felt pain from a half dozen places, some of them threatening to overwhelm him.
=Jayse= "You can't beat me. I'm colored with hate. Out here the strong survive, and everybody else...well, they just die. You're going to vanish, and - hell, I never even caught your name."
Archais's breathing was labored. It hurt to pull it in - his left lung must've been punctured by the stab. He shoved aside the pain, forging it to a point and using that to punch through the fog of the daze he was in. His right hand flashed across his body, seizing the blade in its grasp.
In that moment, he felt the entirety of his years. The miasma of death the blade had steeped in for decades, the intoxicating glory of victory, the distant pain of loss. He felt the sting of Omega's betrayal, the bloodlust that had driven him to kill one former master after another, the creeping darkness with which he'd held a galaxy in the palm of his hand. He was peeled, layer by later, to a bundle of raw nerves, and those nerves were salted. From somewhere deep, he felt an untapped reservoir of cold rage, and it was as though the sword now turned the key to loose it.
His grip on the sword tightened, and he could see the citrine yellow of his organic eye reflected in Jayse's own as they drew wide. Jayse was right that Archais might not be able to match him strength for strength. In that moment, though, it no longer mattered - Archais suddenly held a weapon far more deadly than any wielded by a mortal hand.
=Archais= "My name..."The rage had swelled to a hurricane, and he thought it might burn him alive....is Darth Archais."
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Kel Sentriss
The Vegemite Enclave
Soon.
Posts: 174
Affiliation: The Second Imperium
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Post by Kel Sentriss on Mar 29, 2021 16:27:36 GMT -8
A molten knife of raw fury drove through Archais's skull, and he tapped that reservoir to expand his own senses beyond himself. They probed, invisible tendrils of the dark side's twisted power, at first seeking a path of least resistance like any energy field. They found purchase in Jayse, and after a moment's violent redirection, they aligned like a magnetic field to force their way in. The man's eyes went wide as he felt Archais's newfound strength overpower what defense he could muster, but after a moment it didn't matter. Already his mind crumbled.
Archais's iron grip on the sword moved forward, inch by tortuous inch. He felt the blade exit his shoulder as an afterthought, his gaze locked into Jayse's own as the pirate's eyes swam with confusion, fear. As the sword pushed back, Archais rose with it, drawn to this emerging nexus with a physical pull to meet Jayse's own attempt to step back, to feebly recoil from this unnatural assault on his very being. Archais pushed on the sword, and Jayse moved with it. Step by step they traversed the few meters across the bridge before coming to the forward viewport, and as they drew near enough Archais exploded with power.
He pulled the sword aside and it clattered off, the feedback loop between Jayse's power and Archais's own no longer needing the catalyzing presence of the blade's resonation. Archais's left hand, ignoring the screaming resistance from the shoulder, seized forward to grasp Jayse's face and slam his head against the viewport. At some point the pirate had begun to wail, but Archais had no regard for when that had began.
He drove the nails deeper. He felt his own presence, the raw power, invade every crevice of his prey's mind. He drank it like a man stranded in a desert would drink the sweetest water - this was not sustenance, this was unfettered thirst. The walls crumbled as fast as they could be erected, and neuron by neuron Archais was the victor.
Archais pushed harder. Cracks had started to form in the viewport where the power was growing too strong, and a faint glow was emanating from Jayse. Archais leaned in close as the Force howled in his ears and offered a final word.
"You. Are. Nothing."
The spark was lit, and the forward viewport exploded into the greedy void. Jayse's eyes had been consumed by blue fire, and a trail of it exited his mouth as the husk of the man sailed into the black of space. Archais stood rooted to the deck, stuck with the Force, and at the insistence of the Force's rippling shot his right hand out to catch the coming hilt of his sword. He stood there a moment, the deafening decompression blowing around him, and after a moment the emergency bulkhead slammed shut a half meter from his face.
Archais closed his eyes, hearing this hiss of recompression. Already his senses were coming back to him - his shoulder still ached fiercely, and his skin was abraded from the hard decompression. When he took that first gulp of air, it was a rasping thing followed by a few coughs as he acclimated. His eyes adjusted to the emergency lightning that had come up, and he beheld his prize - a weapon, so carefully crafted years earlier, at last returned to him. His scabbard had gone into the black with Jayse - he'd need to craft a new one, but it was a small price to pay for equal parts material reward and vengeance.
He turned, mind refocused to a razor's edge. His left arm called out to the vibroshield still lodged in a nearby terminal, and it obligingly flew to his hand and was stowed in its place on his back. After a final cough, he keyed his comm.
=Archais= "Moxie, Marauder, the package is secure. En route to the hangar bay. Commence reactor overload and prepare for a quick departure."
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Prophet C'thyl
Quarren Dominion
Posts: 303
Affiliation: Quarren Dominion
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Post by Prophet C'thyl on Aug 30, 2021 3:18:03 GMT -8
::Padawan Cosley to Trialis, can ...one hear me!? I repeat: enemy arm... approaches from Raxus...can't make it to hyperju... they're on my tail!!11 Master Tycon, save me-:: ::Master Tycon, another Recusant dreadnaught tries to flank us from behind, what are your orders!?::
More than concerned the Jedi general watched from atop the bridge as the massive Recusant before them was already tearing most of his Acclamators in half, several Mon Calamari ships flanking this beast of a ship. The Cerean Jedi Master was still commanding the bridge of his Venator-class vessel, when the first few Dominion ships had attacked his convoy. Originally they came to Raxus in order to strengthen the Jedi's foothold within the galaxy, given that Tycon's fleet has grown over time while he was helping out the forces of the Corellian Coalition after the fall of the Grand Alliance. Rumors of a dark society of force users upon Mon Calamari had been brought to his attention after the conclusion of the Thyferra raid, a phenomenon that shared similiarities to other more occult occurences. Most of these attrocities linked back to similiar sightings on territories that the Quarren Dominion, a newly risen faction, that supported the First Order's attack on the Grand Alliance back then, recently conquered. Darkness was stretching it's tendrils from the Blue Pearl and even here at it's borders, Tycon could feel in his mind the infestation within the Force, that radiated from these Quarrenese ships.
Like mosquitos their starfighters went after their own pilots, who were mostly supporting the Jedi's own starfighters within this onslaught. Yet many of his own knights had already perished and it seemed like more was to come. With the demise of his padawan, Tycon knew that he had to warn the Jedi Council on Felucia and the crusaders, that originated from Serenno. A new power, potentially as fearsome as the Sith of the Blackguard was rising within the dark corners of the Outer Rim. "Order the Trialis to retreat and transmit to the Council of what has transpired here", he calmly stated to one of the bridge officers, trying to maintain his emotional balance, "Tell them that the Dominion has launched an assault and that the rumors are true. I can sense the darkness that surrounds their followers even from here." He paused, as his gaze met one of the ships. The Providence-class Destroyer itself wasn't necessary the most striking vessel within this fleet, as it was dwarfed by the two massive Recusants on the battlefield by a lot... it was rather the aura of the ship itself that intriqued the Jedi Master. "And tell them, that I left in order to confront their leader. In hopes to vanquish the root of this evil." Although Tycon could sense that some of the bridge crew officers were confused by this message, partially even horrified as they knew that this was probably the last time where they would see the Jedi Master, they nontheless obeyed.
Moments later a single Eta-2 Actis-class light interceptor left the left side hangar bay, seeing pleased that the Venator-class vessel was attempting to escape from this slaughter. It was heartbreaking to see, how the remaining Acclamators served as shields, that would be sacrificed just to warn their own forces from the incoming armada. Yet a brief look towards Raxus Secundos told Tycon, that it was the right decision. Something sinister could be felt from over there and since the demise of Cosley, there was no signal transmitting from the second fleet. As if something had simply consumed them, something they couldn't see. Calming himself down, the master proceeded though, as he deactivated most of his systems with his course set upon the Providence-class vessel. Now wasn't the time to be afraid. He had to cut down the snake's head.
After what seemed like endless hours, the purple blade of Tycon's lightsaber finished off the last Ommog-Class War droid that has crossed his path. The way to the turbolift was open and the way towards the Dark Lord, who commanded this vessel was clear. While he had a brief moment of pause, he tried not to remember the attrocities, he had seen on his way here. The disciplined clone soldiers, who waited on the lower decks for their time in the similiar fashion of the Stormtroopers, wouldn't it be the more sinister look on their armor, that made them look like dark knights with blaster rifles, the slave engineers and mechanics, whom they guarded, most of them already maniacs themselves, that seemed to mumble pointless metaphors and other sentences, that barely made sense to anyone other than probably themselves, the amphibious Sithspawn, that lurked within the dim-lighted corridors, attacking friend and foe alike, while their different mutations make them a tough opponent, even for an expierienced Jedi Knight and other vile horrors in the form of Mechu-Deru, that seemed to mutate parts of the ship and twist corridors, as if the ship itself was an entire biological organism on his own. At one point, when some of the heavily armored Ommogs forced Tycon to retreat into one of the Garbage Compactors, he will never forget the amalgam, that has dwelled there, half beast, half machine. He still hoped that he had ended it's miserable life, yet he wasn't certain. The more he had seen, the more he feared of what was to come. And no matter where he went, he could always hear through speakers the apocalyptic chants of the dark cultists, that served aboard these ships. Hymns of destruction that fortold the end of the known universe, vile and fearsome and at the same time so unnatural, that Tycon himself wasn't even sure if they were sung by the vocal chords of regular humanoids. He didn't want to know whether the much larger Recusant-class vessels of the Dominion featured similiar horrors within their hulls, he just knew that they shouldn't be. Thus he silently meditated, realizing that what he has seen had attacked his psyche to some degree, preparing himself for the final battle, as the lift would approach it's final destination atop the Sorcerer's tower.
"Welcome aboard the Zatarus, Master Tycon." The voice of the mutated Quarren, that didn't seem to even bother turning around within it's bridge chair, as the dark figure of the Jedi Master approached him slowly with a glowing lightsaber from behind, echoed through the room omniously. Aside from four fleeing cultists, which Tycon killed without a sweat, there wasn't any resistance within this dim-lighted room. For sure this was a trap. "Your ploy failed, Sith Lord", he simply stated towards the chair,"The Trialis will send a message to the council, no matter if your fleet will catch up with them or not. The Dominion's assault plan will fail, for you will meet at least thrice the resistance you witnessed here." "Oh, I'm certain of that... as we speak the Trialis itself gets obliterated by one of our intercepting Interitus-class Destroyers, just as it was forseen. WE have witnessed many truths, Master Tycon, and WE hope that the Council will come to slay US." As the chair turns around, Tycon nearly gasped as instead of the Quarrenese features of the Dominion's protector, he was instead faced with the maniacal visage of his padawan Cosley. A bright orange tint could be seen within the eyes of the human Jedi, while he ignited a red lightsaber blade. No. This can not be... Furiously, Tycon attacked his opponent and the illusion vanished, replacing the face of the deceased padawan with a cage-like helmet with a red glimmer. The Dominion Sentinel, that Tycon attacked, blocked the attack with ease, it's corpse-like hand defending as if the creature had been trained within the art of Soresu. While at first it seemed for the Jedi Master as if this... thing was just another droid, the horrible realisation kicked in quickly, what this thing truely was, recognizing the dark robes, it wore. "Yes, you are fighting your own kind, Master Tycon", the amused voice of the Prophet could be heard from the shadows, "Having perfected the arts of Cronal, I have reformed those, that were impure and turned them into something far greater. Servants of the Dark, everlasting bodyguards, that now utilize what is left of them for OUR plans. Both Jedi and Sith shall one day become mindless minions of the Grand Plan. For only the worthy ones will become part of OUR collection." More blades were ignited within the shadows, as two other Sentinels confronted Tycon. Despite the Sorcerer master's taunting, he tried to hold his ground, damaging even a few mechanical spots on the enemy Sentinel. Yet, to his horror it barely seemed to do any damage. The Mechu-Deru? "Show yourself, maniac!", he shouted, as now five of these lightsaber-wielding monstrosities, that were former force users encircled him, "I might not survive this, as we both know, but give me at least the chance to avenge my padawan!" Again the sadistic amusement of the Prophet filled the room, while shadows coul be seen. One of the Sentinels had suddenly the face of the Sith Sorcerer himself, while from the room itself several crippled versions of the grand Sorcerer seemed to come forth. Illusions... they have to be all illusions... The Sentinels allowed the fake C'Thyls to pass through as they attacked Tycon with something, that looked like an ornamented sacrificial knife. The Jedi Master was at first uncertain whether her should strike or not, when a sudden pain on his shoulder made him realize, that one of them actually was real. Stressed, the Master tried to parry the blade, that had struck him on the shoulder, suddenly feeling resistance. The blade was crafted from a lightsaber resistant material! Another attack came from behind, this time tearing off parts of his robe. In a frenzy Tycon turned around and grabbed attacker with the force, trying to break their neck - when he suddenly let of the target go, as he recognized in him the face of one of the Trialis bridge officers.
"There won't be any revenge, for you are mine, Tycon", C'Thyl whispered from close nearby, as all of the illusions spoke up simultaneously, "I will enjoy breaking your mind, for WE are patient." Enraged, the Jedi Master swung the blade in a frenzy, blasting away most of the images by the means of the Force, as another batch of them streamed in. Even the Sentinels stepped now in, as Tycon could swear, that they stepped over the dead bodies of former bridge officers aboard the Trialis. But that couldn't be... they were all destroyed... no, that's what the Sorcerer wants to let you think... did I kill them!? Were they still alive? Could... they have been saved? Another slice and the pain intensified. Tycon felt as his sanity vaporized with each attack, each mindtrick, that tortured his very thoughts. The battle would rage on for several hours, before silence would befell the room. And the purple blade was no more. For the Dark remained supreme.
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Prophet C'thyl
Quarren Dominion
Posts: 303
Affiliation: Quarren Dominion
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Prophet C'thyl on Nov 28, 2021 6:55:57 GMT -8
With the skirmish over Raxus concluded, the armada continiues it's way on, leaving only ship debris of destroyed Venator-class Star Destroyers and Acclamators behind, mixed with the hulls from some of the smaller Dominion vessels. Flanking both the Zatarus, the main fleet is setting it's course into the direction of the Perlemian Trade Route. The Dark was crawling forth, leaving the outer corners of the Outer Rim, the destination more clear than ever.
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