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The Fall of New Tython

New Tython burns. Cy Thuron's New Dawn has aligned itself with a deadly band of mercenaries, subjugating the world in one fell strike. As House Odan-Urr drops out of hyperspace, they are chased away from Sanctuary Space Station by deadly hordes of snub fighters and forced to ground by a fleet of corvettes and destroyers. Now, they have come upon Menat Ombo to find its walls lined with guns, troops, and razor wire; mines detonate around its entrance, and bomber craft wait to hunt down any force that musters.

With the native armies scattered and the colonists under threat, resistance is futile; Cy Thuron has won the world. The last hope for a free New Tython comes as the Jedi return to their adoptive home, seeking to infiltrate the city and free its captive residents.

Week One:

Menat Ombo has been locked down; its Visulu Market has been torn apart and turned into a de facto barracks and supply center, while its Memit District has been turned into a temporary holding area. The spaceport has been utterly sealed, while the It'kla District has been burnt black and now crawls with the enemy. Much of Ooroo Abbey has outright collapsed, the Jedi Library burned and the Halls of the Watchmen left in utter ruins. With little hope left, all that can be done is infiltrate the city, where more prisoners are shuttled in from the Colonies and Tribal Areas every day.

Sneak into Menat Ombo, doing whatever you must to break into the city quietly; you have only your saber and the clothing on your back. Only the enemy has more supplies; get inside the walls, slip through the fortifications quickly and quietly, and get to the Memit District.

Week Two:

Through stealth, subterfuge, and hit-and-run attacks, the Jedi have managed to infiltrate the Memit District and rally the survivors gathered there. Now, with Ordain Vorono locked down and Visulu a fortress, there is but one recourse, one plan of action. To save the lives of thousands, and to stop Thuron from killing until they are found, the Jedi must lead an all-out assault to cripple the local air defenses and open a path to the spaceport for the survivors. It will be a day of darkness and strife, but hope remains; to safeguard New Tython's future, the Jedi must do what they can to save its people, and then leave those that remain to the shackle and the lash.

Move in on the soldiers, equipment, and fortifications of the spaceport and strike at them wherever you can; hit, fade, and strike again to disable defenses and soldiers. Pave the way for our last stand that we might escape.

Week Three:

The evacuation is underway; the Arthos and other remaining vessels are being loaded with all the civilians who can be taken. As efforts continue, Thuron's forces assault the evacuation site, raining fire and death on the refugees. The Jedi of Odan-Urr, alongside any who can fight, now battle furiously to keep hope alive. The Code preaches peace, but the Jedi are defenders of freedom and justice. Only by force of arms can they keep hope alive.

Fight back; do whatever you must to rescue the survivors from Thuron's assault. You are their last hope.

Morotheri stood at the foot of a smoldering wreckage at the foot of an outlying settlement. Taking in the surroundings, his body shook from the shock and his breath came in shallow breaths. A pile of bodies - scorched beyond recognition - were lined carefully along the base of a still smoldering hut. Carefully, he examined what was left of their facial structure, peering at the large nasal crest of one charred individual. Unable to see the aura radiating from these bodies, the Miraluka had known that this particular group was already long dead, and relied on the Force to give him a more traditional sense of sight. Strangely, while the fires around the small village still smoldered, these bodies appeared to be days old, as if they had been planted here in hopes of sowing the seeds of despair into the Jedi who would come to investigate.

Looking ahead past the settlement, Raiju looked towards the horizon. Menat Ombo loomed ominously in the distance, the once-cherished city was now a foreboding and hostile place - almost alien. Ruins of rust-colored debris and craters encompassed the city, while the roads became worn and rutted from the constant transport of helpless refugees and mercenary forces. The Nautolan seethed with anger as his home became the domain of a sinister enemy, with no remorse. Stepping to his side, Sight projected his own soothing images into the Nautolan's mind, easing the tension as Raiju regained control over his emotions, the black pit of rage vanishing to a mere speck but nevertheless glowing with a fiery intensity as his mind became set on a singlular goal for an instant - to see to it that Cy Thuron has paid for all that he has done, and all the suffering he has caused. Aided by Sight's own thoughts, these feelings vanished almost as quickly as they had established themselves. Morotheri was the first to break the dreadful silence.

"Cy Thuron will see to it that New Tython is within his icy grasp. Though, by working against the Brotherhood in our covert operations in their bloodthirst for victory, Menat Ombo's citizens will have been convinced we have all but abondoned them. We know this - we have seen firsthand the support Cy Thuon can muster for his vendetta against the Jedi." He looked again towards the bodies, his brow creasing as his blindfold shifted uncomforably, "New Tython has already fallen. But it is our duty to right our wrongs - to restore the peace and prosperity we have tried so hard to uphold."

Sight looked over, his reddened eyes itched as he turned away from the horizon, "We can't delay any more than we already have. With the amount of transports moving into the city, they are sure to be building a garrison. I can already see them lining the walls, patrolling day and night. There is no kriffing way we are getting in there undetected. The only thing that comes in and out of the city is transports, and even those are thoroughly inspected."

Behind them, the rest of the Jedi gathered, taking in their surroundings. A few muffled cries came from the crowd, but none seemed to notice, their attention focused on the deep disturbance in the Force around them, sending out ripples the size of groundquakes to harry their senses. The pinnacle of Ooroo Abbey could be seen on the other side of the walls, now appearing like a spire, twisted through the corruption of Dark-Sided energies of the one who resided within. Converted into a colossal citadel, the Abbey was a heavily defended fortress - the stairs were guarded by a perimeter of E-webs and repulsortanks. However, the Jedi had their attention set across the city, towards the Memit district where the survivors were treated brutally, and the Harakoans confined to this stifling space. A few screeches of terror rang out from the city as small rebellions were put down by sheer firepower, silencing them forever. The Jedi looked on, hoping they only had enough time...

Where seeds are sown, crops are harvested, and the sorrowful scene was ripe in the air, mixed with the scent of smoke, and the dead. The young teenage boy Elleron absorbed the scene around him, but it was like a dream; a powerful detachment, a callous disregard, had overcome him and while he was repulsed, he was strangely calm.

He had spent a lot of time around the horrors of war, from the invasion of New Tython to the Horizons plague, to the nightmare memories of Denath's life to their efforts in the Dark Crusade. Now, however, it was like a story, something one could read about, full of heroes and villains, where good would triumph over evil. He closed his eyes, ignoring a lone tear that crept down his face. A good book, that one could put down when one had enough, when the pages tore at the eyes and the words stuck in the throat.

Filled with a morbid curiosity, he approached the pile of bodies and stretched forward with the Force, poking here and there at the tendrils of their lives. Only the faintest impulses came to his mind - the bodies were old, the Force having left them days ago. A little fear, pain, hopelessness - absorbed in this strange detachment, he could only pace slowly around the pile and poke. One body caught his attention, and without meaning to, he reached forward and grabbed it. He was seized, dragged back, the worried face of Councillor Liam filling his sight. He spoke, but he couldn't hear. Darkness flooded in.

He woke a few moments later. Kaira knelt over him, her sun-touched hair shining brightly. The boy could think of far worse things to wake up to. "What happened?" he asked.
"You fainted. Rest for a moment." Elleron took a deep breath in, and Kaira helped him to his feet. "What do we do?" she asked, turning to their leaders. "How do we get in to the city?"
"We could find somewhere we can slip through," Morotheri replied.
"We could intercept one of their transports," Raiju said. "Fight our way in if we're found."
You could pass for a refugee - no one's going to look twice at a boy.
What if Cy knows I'm part of the House? They'll have descriptions.
Don't match them.
"Denath thinks he can sneak me in," Elleron announced. "If we can find some clothes around the village, we could pass ourselves as refugees."
"With our numbers? That could be risky."
"Denath thinks I can make it - they won't pay much attention to children." The Jedi glanced at each other as they weighed up their options.

Sight’s mouth was dry and his stomach turning from the sight in front of the Jedi. The smell of the corpses was getting to him. His emotions were peaked as he eyes took in the burned flesh. It was nothing he had never seen before or had done himself but there was an evil that lingered here. Sight’s ears twitched as he heard Elleron’s voice. “Denath thinks I can make it - they won't pay much attention to children.”

His eyes narrowing he reached out with the force dragging a body forward towards the group. “No Elleron, no one goes off by themselves. You might be young but you are not that young.” He turned towards Elleron and used the force to pull the corpse between them. This corpse was different from the rest, it wasn’t burnt but eviscerated. “Take a good look at this boy’s corpse. Note that he can’t be more than ten years old, just old enough to be considered a military aged male. Then I want you to notice the lack of scorching on his body. He was killed by a metal blade Elleron, in a way that would ensure a slow and very painful death.” He pushed the body away again. “They won’t hold back because of age. Especially if they sense you are a force user. The transports are out since they search them to well for us to slip through on them.” He spoke his voice even but inside he was becoming a torrent or emotion, emotions of a darker nature. His face hardened into an emotionless stone mask a trained response.

Morotheri looked over at Sight; it had not been a few moments prior that the albino had helped him cool his own head. Now the Jedi could feel the toil forming in the man. He also got the sense that this was stemming from Sight’s past, one he had never shared with the other members of the house. Morotheri place a hand on Sight’s shoulder and looked at Liam who nodded to him. “Do you have an alternate suggestion Sight?”

Sight’s red orbs looked at Morotheri and then scanned across the rest of the house which was gathered there. “Yes I do. If we split into small groups of 3-4 we should be able to sneak into the city during the night. Once inside we can all meet up and decide what to do next.” As he spoke he turned to face the city. The tendrils of smoke rising from its depth gave contrast against the late afternoon sky. The sun would set soon on this part of New Typhon and Sight was feeling old emotions forming from the turmoil inside. He was sure of one thing, tonight blood would be spilled in Menat Ombo that he would make sure of.

A loud sigh hissed from the Kel Dor's antiox mask, his goggled eyes staring directly at Sight. He raised a hand gently, not wishing to interrupt Ooroo's leader. The group hushed into silence, and Tur'el stepped forth. He bowed his head, making sure he could show any and all respect the Jedi before him deserved. Tur'el was a fresh face, and while his power had been tested and shown many times, Sight was a leader of the Odanites.

"If I may, Sight, it would be easier for a two man team to sneak in further and dismantle some of their defenses. It would make your advance easier. If I could suggest Raiju and myself going through the Visulu Market, we could maybe draw some of them away from the groups separate advances and make it easier for the lesser experienced among us."

Raiju nodded, his cold natured side shining through in the wake of what had happened. Tur'el had heard of the quick to change behaviors of the Nautolan, and wasn't worried about the Prelate's abilities. They were greater than his own, and he felt the once dark sider would understand his own darker impulses. The group acknowledged the merits behind Tur'el's plan, and agreed to allow the two to separate and try their best to lessen the troubles of the Journeyman.

Tur'el had been struggling with his emotions ever since he had heard what happened. Anger had long since been reined in and controlled, now it was just lust for revenge that plagued him. Tried though he might, he just couldn't control that beast. His bloodlust had to be slaked, and Cy Thuron would provide the mercenaries that would do it.

"What exactly is the plan?" asked Raiju

"Draw out the mercenaries from Visulu Market. It's their barracks, so they'll wanna protect it." replied Tur'el. "The hope is that once we take out some guards, more will come to investigate the bodies. We take out more from the shadows, and more will investigate the disappearances. Eventually, the guards will catch on, but by then our main groups should be in place and the guards will have thinned because of us."

"Or more guards come because we poked the bee hive."

"If it's the will of the Force, so be it." replied Tur'el.

Morotheri considered all arguments of the debate - how will the Jedi proceed? Surely, Cy Thuron had already anticipated the Jedi's motivation to rescue the denizens of New Tython, especially those in the most immediate peril. He studies the massive walls again - every few minutes, a group would patrol the perimeter while the transports arrived hourly. After meditating on the Force, Morotheri studied their current position. The trance took much concentration on his part, sapping him of most of his energy as he sensed, or rather 'saw' the aura radiating off every lifeform within their line of sight. All strategies were sound, but a few problems with each existed. Were the Jedi to sneak into the city in groups of two, it would take a long time to regroup, though a small number could create a sizeable distraction to take away from the attention to the convoys as they passed through the gates. Without realizing, the Miraluka nearly fell over as his body became somewhat drained of energy. Quickly sensing it through the Force, Raiju moved to his side and hauled him up before Morotheri broke the trance. Panting, he relayed his plan to the group.

"While everyone's ideas are sound, there are too many possible outcomes. We must remember that Cy Thuron is anticipating our move on Menat Ombo, and we cannot afford delay. With that said, there will not be room for all of us on the transports. Therefore, I suggest that we have a small group infiltrate ahead of the convoy, and attract enough attention away from the gate to detract from the convoy's security. We will disguise ourselves as best as we can and regroup when we are able. Let's hope the Force is with us, for the path ahead is a dark and tracherous one."

With that, he regained some measure of strength. Most of the others looked uneasy, but it seemed to be one of their only options, for the moment. Instantly, Kaira and Sight began rummaging through the village, looking for any articles of clothing that were unscorched by the mercenaries' ruthless slaughter. Eventually finding a sizable stack of slightly frayed tunics and other articles of clothing considered to be 'normal,' they began issuing everyone with somewhat belivable disguises. While some fit too small or large, the group looked the part of battered refugees, caught at the wrong location, at the wrong time.

Raiju shifted his gaze back to the fortress looming in the distance. The Jedi would wait for nightfall, and pray that the Force was with them.

“Wait!” The command was barked, and received annoyingly.

The Guardian Prelate was impatient. He had no desire to wait, especially when blood could be spilt at any moment. However, the Nautolan had to push the thoughts of the people’s suffering from his mind – this was no time to lose concentration.

“Patrol coming.” The annoying voice again tweeted like a bird in the back of Raiju’s mind. While the Guardian had no doubt that Tur’el was doing his best instructing the team from his place on the ground, every delay meant more time Raiju would spend hovering above the ground in the shadows of the city walls. As much as the alien trusted the young looking Elleron and the abilities of the trapped Denath, he really wished he had protested more when the plan turned to using the force to lift the Nautolan onto the wall.

“Are we in a damn Garik Loran holovid?” The Nautolan now cursed under his breath. “If I am going to act like a super spy, there better be some hot tail for me after this…”

“Okay, they are gone.”

No sooner had Tur’el force spoke words left the Nautolan’s mind before the Guardian found his feet firmly on the solid stone of the city walls and its walkway. From here, things moved quickly as Tur’el was next lifted into the air and Raiju, cloaked by the force, watched for the next patrol. When Denath tired of the exercise, Morotheri added his assistance from below and landed the Kel Dor just as the Nautolan counted to the two minute mark.

It had already been agreed upon; lightsabers at this point would ruin their surprise. So when the next patrol rounded the corner of the city wall though the tower archway, a strong right hook from the Nautolan smashed against the throat of the nearest guard. A choked gasp accompanied the man to the floor while Raiju’s attention switched to the second guard, slightly outside of the Nautolan’s range. Yet, the man’s throat felt strangely like it was in the Guardian’s hand as Raiju squeezed it through the force.

The Jedi Guardian had expected the Sentinel beside him to voice his protest immediately, but found himself surprised as Tur’el leapt between the Nautolan and his choking prey. A quick kick from the Sentinel forced the air from the floored guard’s chest before any sort of warning could be shouted, while Raiju’s target clawed at his own throat in a panic to open his air ways. An eerie silence was consumed by exchanged looks from the two Odanites.

* * *

“What do you think happened?” The young voice of Elleron whispered. “Should we just go? Sight and the rest of them should have captured a transport by now.”

“No, we need that gear.” Morotheri said with a sign as the pair waited. “And I can still sense them up there, I just can’t tell what they are doing.”

“Maybe the guards–“ Elleron’s words were cut short as an object fell from the wall with an uncomfortable meaty smack sounding from its impact on the ground. Troubled glances from the Aedile and Rollmaster escalated into shock as a second guard fell from the stone wall and onto the first. This wasn’t exactly what was agreed upon.

“Come, grab their uniforms and their passcards.” Morotheri said coldly to Elleron and glared at the top of the city wall. “We will need this to get the others in as arrested refugees.”

Sight stared out one of the side windows of the transport. While the first team had gone with Raiju to sneak into the city from another route, Sight had taken the rest of the house and captured a transport. Their mission was to get into the city through the main gate, if they were discovered entering the city then they would force their way in. It was risky but they had the numbers to do it, once inside the city they would link up with the other team and become their ‘prisoners’. As they approached the city gate Sight made sure the house members were hidden as well as they could be. He had asked a senior Jedi to watch over groups of 4 to 5 journeymen. It was the best he could do with their numbers to keep the younger less experienced members safe. As the transport came to the gate and creped to a stop at the check point he took up his own position by the back hatch and prepared to fight.

The hatch opened and two mercenaries boarded. They took an initial look around the cargo hold as they held position just inside the hatch, all they saw was a shipment of light industrial equipment. There would be two more mercenaries scanning the outside of the transport as well. Taking a deep breath Sight knew it was only a matter of time before these two found the Jedi lying in wait. He exhaled slowly as the two guards started moving deeper into the hold and made his move. His feet moved quickly and lightly making next to no noise as he had removed his boots. He reached out with his left hand as he neared the two and tapped into the darkness that had been brewing inside of him since they had landed on New Typhon.

A smile crept across his lips as the mercenary desperately scratched at his throat trying to loosen the intense pressure that had suddenly tightened down on his neck. A few gasps came from the house members as they witnessed Sight’s attack. The other mercenary turned towards his partner having heard a strange gasping noise issue from his lips. That was a mistake as other members of the house emerged and quickly struck the man down. The sound of bones crunching issued from the guard within Sight’s grip. Releasing the dead man Sight pointed to the open hatch. “The two outside must be disposed of as well. Make sure you take anything useful from them.”

Fitting into the uniforms taken from the fallen mercenaries, Morotheri and Elleron set to work making the final adjustments. Fastening the last of the straps on his uniform, the Miraluka couldn't help but notice the yellow cords draped around both shoulders, a reminder of the Jedi's first encounter with the power-hungry Cy Thuron, which had seemed like a lifetime ago, when the 'mad hermit' began inciting his anti-Jedi rebellion in the Visulu markets. The disguise was most uncomfortable, as the Aedile often reached up to scratch his neck. It was obvious that the uniform was intended for someone of a much smaller stature. However, it was the largest of the two, and as the Miraluka turned to his companion, he would have laughed, if not for the missions requirement of the utmost secrecy. Elleron stood in his uniform, though he nearly tripped over the pant legs as he walked.

"Need any help with that?" He asked the young boy, clearly amused for the moment. Taking a brief moment to help tuck the excess clothing into Elleron's nearly knee-high boots, the young Jedi looked almost presentable as a guard, though it would suit their needs for the time being. Cursing for a moment his lack of a older host, the now awake Denath looked over at the Miraluka and smirked, "So, are you going to simply walk in with that rag over your face? Otherwise, I hope you have a better plan before you get us all killed.“

Waving a hand over his face, the Miraluka cast an illusion over himself as he tore the blindfold off, stashing it in his uniform's pocket. Denath was surprised at what he saw, if even for an instant. For a second or two, it appeared to him that the Aedile had grown a set of eyes, though the illusion faded as the Dark Jedi realized the illusion was nothing more than a trick intended for only the weak-minded. To any of the guardsmen, the illusion would be a believable ruse, given that every discription involved the single most obvious physical trait of the Miraluka species, none would suspect the disguised Aedile. On the other hand, it was agreed that Elleron would stay at a distance, in the cover of night, it was hard to judge the height of any guards patrolling the inner perimeter. Now, as they approached the nearest alleyway that would take them to the front gates Morotheri hoped that it was not too late.

Fear tugged at Kaira’s mind as she tried very hard to focus on the task at hand. The woman had no idea where her daughter at this time was. If not for her house and duty to her fellow Jedi the Epis would have been gone. She stood with fellow Jedi ready to strike at just the right moment. Her weapon lay hidden away under her disheveled refuge disguise ready for when she would need it. For now they would look like any other refugee as they made their way to the camp.

Kaira moved up next to Sight. He was in charge right now but Kaira worried as she could not see an outcome for them in the force.

“Use caution my friend. The future is clouded with darkness.”

Kaira was not sure she wished to say more to any one of her fears. Their plan was iffy at best. She knew it was the best plan they had but still she wondered if they would even get past the check point to meet up with the others. For now she simply bowed her head back and made herself look tired and older then she was. The force would help them all with the check point as the weak of mind were easy to fool. Just one more check point before we meet up with the others. One more test if they could do this without being the cause of more death.

Visulu Market
New Tython

The two Jedi crept quietly in the shadows, the darkness masking their presence. Both of them had their sabers in hand, ready to act and remove any and all resistance they met. Stealth and covert tactics was the watch word for this operation, neither wanted to be the reason it went south. They made their way along the back alleys, hearing the hushed discussions various mercenaries in the area were having. The Kel Dor tried his best to be aware of his footing and not step or disturb anything that might make a sound. A splash of a puddle, a kicking of a rock, anything could alert the enemy to the two.

"I need to see the area and what it is we're dealing with." whispered Tur'el.

Raiju nodded, pointing to a set of stairs that led to a vantage point of Menat Ombo. Before, Tur'el had used the area to meditate and center himself. He knew it was secluded and hard to see from certain angles. Perfect for their needs, but it still had a degree of risk. Without the time to scout for a better option, the Sentinel and Guardian progressed forward cautiously, Tur'el thumbing the activation button to his saber just in case. He didn't feel right, as if a voice inside him was bellowing for them to turn around and leave the city. He didn't voice his concerns, shaking his head to bottle his concerns.

Quietly they ascended the stairs. The view they had was quaint, more pastoral and picturesque than strategic. It revealed to the two the numbers and locations of the mercenaries in the area, which was useful. Raiju looked at Tur'el, who was satisfied with the layout and knowledge acquired. Action could be taken, plans already exchanging between the two.

They would cling to back alleys and more shadowed areas. They would pick off any guards they could without creating attention, and fight their way out if necessary. Tur'el hoped for bloodshed, yearned for it. Craved death and destruction and all the chaos those created. He wanted to control his emotions, but now they tasted so sweet. Raiju was cold, focused, determined. The Nautolan seemed to be in control and the Sentinel envied him a little.

They scampered against the walls of an alley formed between two shops, the sounds of their feet barely making any noise against the ground. Success seemed in their grasp, Tur'el felt confident. All until he heard the approach of feet behind him. Raiju did as well, and they both turned around to see the trio of guards. One reached for his comm, about to speak. Raiju extended his arm, exerting a powerful gust of kinetic force, throwing one of the guards hard against the stone wall. An audible crack of bone breaking, smear of blood on the wall. A smile on the Nautolan's face.

Tur'el burst forth, the Force making his movements quicker, his speed faster. His saber activated, the crimson blade sinking into another guard, the blade cutting deep into the heart. The eyes of the merc bulged as he slunk to the floor, gases in his heart igniting with the oxygen in the air.

"We got trouble in Visu--" one of the guards said into his comm, his head popping off as Raiju rushed forward and cut through his neck.

The Sentinel gazed upon the scene of death and felt pride, but regretted that now they knew they were in Visulu Market, and more would come. Hopefully it would be just what they needed to ensure the others success.

Creeping through the stench-filled alleyways of the crumbling city, the bulk of the Jedi forces advanced with caution. Whatever remained of the refugees followed at a greulling pace, the weary and sick often stumbled while the Jedi tended to them at pauses such as this. Holding up a hand in warning, Elleron brang the group to a halt as he peered around the corner. Without warning, he ducked back into the alleyway, flattening himself to the wall as the approach of footsteps raced past. Within moments, the footsteps receeded to no more than five distinct pairs, with the barking of orders ringing throughout the dust-filled street. Elleron gripped his lightsaber hilt, his knuckles white as he allowed Denath to take control of his body. A twisted sneer came over his face as Denath waited around the corner, the footsteps growing nearer as he sprang around the corner, his glowing blade slicing the arm off one unluckly individual while the Jedi poured out. They barely had time to gasp in surprise as the soldiers were overrun, the officer raising a hand to his comlink just before an amber blade snapped to existance, driving its molten tip through the officer's spine as his assailant caught his mouth with his free hand, silencing the officer as the life left his body. Taking a brief moment to hide the bodies, the Jedi moved towards Vonoro Spacdock, effieciently dispatching any soldiers that stood in their way. A rumble reverebrated throughout the street as Morotheri let the Force swell into his mind, capturing the sound to determine what it was.

"Everybody MOVE!" He managed to shout as splinters of a flaming barricade swept towards the group in a flash of crimson. Silhouetted through the dust and ashes in the atmosphere, the faint outline of a hovertank seemed to grow larger, behind it another faded into existance as it penetrated the screen of black smoke. A few more bursts of crimson light darted across the street. Denath drew upon his rage upon witnessing the death of a handful of refugees that had failed to seek shelter before being replaced with a sizable crater. Seething with hatred, he tossed his lightsaber at the nearest machine, blazing a siver trail as it severed one of the hovertank's cannons in half. That, howver, did not stop the approach of many more advancing down the street.

Feeling a pang of grief and guilt over the death of a few precious refugees, Morotheri struggled to contain his emotions. Reluctantly, he ordered the group back into the alley as he saw the flashing of a familiar glow from across the street. His abnormally white skin contrasted against the pitch-blackness of night, Sight observed the battle from the ruins of what had once been a small cantina across the street. Raising a comlink to his face, the familiar tone pinged through Morotheri's identical device.

"It looks like you might need some help." Answered Sight, tucking himself well out of view of the approaching armor, "I can buy you some time, but you need to hurry."

Morotheri looked at his surrounding for a moment, the faint outline of the hovertanks making themselves visible as he stretched out with the Force. "Negative Sight. There's too many of them down there, we'll never get everyone through in time." Clicking his comm, Sight pointed the glowing tip of his lightsaber upwards - directly at the pinnacle of a towering building directly on the path of the approaching artillery. Instantly, the Miraluka knew as Sight raced towards the structure, a pair of thermal detonators in his hands as he set them along one side of the building.

"Let's hope this works..." Called Sight as he darted back to his initial position.

The explosion of the thermal detonators sent rock shards flying across the street and the Jedi. The tower was missing a large chunk of itself at the base and a large crack stretched around it. The tower was tilting towards the hover tanks slowly at first then quickly as it loosened itself from its base. It stopped moving as it hung at a 45 degree angle. Sight held his breath as he watched and began to worry that it wouldn’t fall then a loud pop and crunch of stone ripping itself apart echoed over the area.

The tower fell on top of the hover tanks causing a loud metallic clang to resound and a thick dust cloud to rise obscuring everything’s view. “Move, Move, Move!” Sight yelled at the Jedi that had been trapped with him. As the last one passed by him on their way across to the rest of the group Sight rushed towards where the nearest hover tank. The ground was covered in large and small stone fragments from the tower. He found the hover tank soon enough and leaped onto it. His blade igniting as his boot landed on the tanks upper haul. Driving the blade into the armor on the back side of the turret he made sure to cut only around the outside corners to avoid the power supply for the main cannon. Peeling the armor away and exposing the power supply. Inside he could hear the crew starting to stir from being knocked unconscious due to the tower falling on their tank. Sight quickly switched and crossed a few of the wires connecting to the power supply which would cause it to become explosively unstable once any power was attempted to be drawn from it. Leaping from the hover tank Sight moved quickly towards the group of Jedi.

Sliding to a stop in front of Morotheri he smiled at the Jedi. “We should move now before we loose the dust cloud and its concealment.” That said Sight looked at the other Jedi. As they started to move down the alley a large explosion reverberated from the street they had been on.

The assault had gone better than expected.

Already, the refugees had made it to the Ordain Vonoro Spacedock, the masses limped along eagerly towards the Gallofree Medium Transports that awaited them. Now, however, the infiltration had taken a turn in Cy Thuron's favour. As the Jedi battled the approaching forces with a fierce determination, the exhaustion had begun to kick in. There seemed to be no end to the mercenaries' resources. Much like Palpaltine's Empire, Cy Thuron considered his army expendable. As each wave of reinforcements fell to the blades of the Jedi Knights, a new wave emerged, even more powerful than the last. A deep rumble was fast approaching, causing miniature earthquakes beneath their feet as they pressed the defense. It would not be long before the artillery closed in, already their barrage had narrowed darastically, allowing for much more accurate bombardments. A thin trickle of sticky, crimson blood ran down Sight's face as he held his ground alongside Raiju, their minds melded through the Force as Raiju lent him his strength. Kaira stood alongside the refugees, helping them to safety as she reflected a pair of blaster bolt back to their origin, scorching two smoking holes in the chestplates of both mercenaries as they fell. Suddenly, and without warning, the refugees surged forwards in a panic as Arcia and Azler held their ground, positioning themselves in between the paniced survivors and the Gallofree Transports.

"There's no room!" Morotheri heard one shout as he beheaded an approaching mercenary outfitted with a vibrosword. Troubled, he looked back to Liam Torun, who was also occupied with a fresh group of reinforcements. Liam nodded as the Miraluka shared his thoughts through the Force, towards the far side of the Spaceport. There, the Baudo-Class Star Yacht titled "The Arthos." sat idle in its hanagar, along with six Armored Interface Craft 4s. It was worth a shot, and there would be enough room for the Jedi to make their escape, as well.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Elleron sweated as he flicked more blaster bolts aside. Like cockroaches with the lights on, or rats on a sinking ship, the soldiers of Cy Thuron's army continued their inevitable advance. Most of the Jedi were relying on their training in Soresu to weather this storm, but even the best fighter couldn't withstand the artillery shells that were exploding nearer and nearer. Elleron struck the last soldier down, neatly skewering him with a silver blade, and the Jedi continued their staggered, interrupted march through the spaceport. Morotheri's voice crackled over their communicators as the next wave of soldiers rolled over the remnants of their hasty barricade.

Through passion, I gain strength.
Elleron looked around, a little confused at first as the fog settled in. A wall of mist, too thick to see through, surrounded him as a dark figure approached. A steel mask covered half his face and his eyes glowed balefully, like black lights in the eerie fog.
"Elleron," the dark stranger greeted him. Elleron knew his voice.
"Denath." The mist swept aside, and more figures appeared: Morotheri, Liam, Sight, Raiju... Kaira. "This is the hardest fight I've ever been in," Elleron confided to Denath as the two came and stood beside each other.
"I've had worse," Denath panted.
"We're not all going to make it, are we?" Elleron asked the corner of his mind that Denath occupied. The steel mask was as cold and still as the exposed half of Denath's face, a blank slate that gave no answer.

"There are AIC-4s in the rear hangar. Everyone fall back!" Back in reality, Morotheri's voice echoed through everyone's ears as Councillor Morotheri shouted into his communicator. Without hesitation, the Jedi advanced on the rear hangar. Elleron, Raiju, Sight, Morotheri and Liam brought the rear guard as the rest of the House hurried the rest of the refugees along. Blaster bolts flashed back and forth as Tur'el made it to the rear hangar controls and opened the doors. Refugees rushed past, all except one they had rescued, who stood faithfully beside her mother. Kaira deflected a random bolt or two that ventured too close to her and her daughter as they led the way into the rear hangar. The AICs loomed before them in the shadows, and Kaira, her daughter and Tur'el set to the task of organizing everyone on board the ships.

An earth-shattering explosion resounded nearby. One of the artillery shells had landed in front of them, and the last of the Jedi fell back, stunned for the moment as the soldiers ran in to snatch their victory. Elleron struggled to his feet, followed closely by the others. "GET TO THE HANGAR!" Liam shouted. The Jedi sprinted for the doors, each one knowing that this may be their last chance.

Through strength, I gain power.
Back in the mists of his mind, a lump formed in Elleron's throat as he imagined a world without the heroes that appeared before him. Without Liam's leadership, Morotheri's guidance, Sight and Raiju's strength... without the Jedi.
Not this world.
"We have to save them," Elleron demanded. "Whatever it takes."
"The Light won't save them," Denath sneered. His words echoed around the imaginary mists like a thunderclap. Despite mellowing since joining with Elleron, he was dark at heart, and while Elleron's restraints had kept him in check, he had still broken through on occasion. On those occasions, he'd won. Swallowing his sorrow, Elleron took a deep breath. He would have to let go of Denath's restraints.

Elleron's pupils appeared to dilate until his entire eyes, sclera and all, were black. Blaster bolts began to buzz past, and Raiju shouted in pain as one of them clipped the rear of his shoulder. He stumbled as Denath, Morotheri and Liam spun neatly and formed a wall of Soresu, shielding their companion as the rest rushed into the hangar whose doors gaped invitingly wide, so close but at the same time, impossibly far away. Denath yanked Raiju to his feet with the Force. "Stand up and fight, weakling!" the ancient Dark Jedi snarled. The others almost couldn't believe their ears as Denath spun forward and battered a handful of bolts back. Raiju joined the defense, but more troops were coming. More shells exploded nearby.

Through power, I gain victory.
Denath raised one hand, and every soldier screamed. All of the hatred and sorrow that Elleron had held in check, through the Invasion of New Tython, to the Horizons Plague; all the dark thoughts and unwelcome impulses the boy had suppressed through the Crusade, to the memory of the massacre that greeted their arrival, of Sight dangling an eviscerated Harakoan boy in front of him; Denath tapped it all, as a great bonfire taps wood, and paper... and flesh.

Through victory, my chains are broken.
His face was rock-hard with tension as he concentrated everything he had into horrifying his enemies. Where the sweat had trickled down his forehead during the battle, it now fell like salty rain. Denath angled his head to growl over his shoulder. "Get... in." Raiju and Sight glanced at Denath, then at Liam. He nodded, and the wounded Strike Team leaders helped each other stumble into the hangar.
"That's enough, Denath," Liam gently instructed him. "There'll be enough time while they recover to dash inside." Denath may have glanced at him; with eyes like pits of black, it was always hard to tell what Denath was looking at. A blaster bolt buzzed past as the toughest of the soldiers got a grip on themselves.
"Doors only seal from outside... turn the shields up, and you can... fly straight through the roof. I will seal the doors." Denath trembled a little as the focus began to take its toll. More blaster bolts floated past, their aim terrible, as more soldiers began to man up and knuckle down.

The Force shall free me.
"We can't win by falling to the Dark Side. You've bought us enough time. Every Jedi needs to board these ships. You need to come back to the Light and come with us. We can all leave. The House needs its leaders - all of them."
"It's the only way," Denath panted. "We have to do... whatever it takes."
"That's not your body your choosing to throw away!" Liam chastised the Dark Jedi. A moment passed.

The darkness drained from his eyes, leaving behind forest green irises as Elleron regained control. Liam and Morotheri deflected another volley as the soldiers started to charge forward. Elleron paused for a moment as he watched them approach, as he watched Liam and Morotheri defend them. Another explosion echoed to their side, too close for comfort. "You're right, Liam," Elleron acknowledged as they all turned to the hangar. "The House needs its leaders." Elleron gathered whatever strength in the Force remained to him and threw Liam and Morotheri into the hangar. He threw his lightsaber into the external controls, severing them, and the doors sealed shut quickly with a sound like thunder. Elleron sighed and turned to face the soldiers, recalling his lightsaber to his hand. He raised the silver blade in a salute as he recited the Jedi Code.

There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no-