Knowledge

[Jarak Kai]

The pair of Jedi stood in their traditional robes as the winds began to pick up upon the reddened soil and cast it upon the delicate fabrics of their tunics, but not so high that they would need to protect their vision. Though to the dig-site workers it was the winds that were picking up, to the Jedi and those who feel as they do, the winds of the force itself were beginning to stir, and on a world devoid of any real force culture in sometime, this was a cause for concern. Jarak and his Padawan were the only Jedi dispatched to Ossus - Master Kenobi would have informed them if this had changed, but he had not received any message and there was nothing obviously blocking any of the Jedi channels.

Still - had Jarak not be attuned to the force, the effect the impending arrival was having on his Padawan was clear to see and he himself was beginning to project those feelings of anxiousness and increased brain activity.

"I feel it too - notice how I am keeping my heart-rate in check?" Jarak brought that moment in to make eye contact with his Mon Cala apprentice. "You're ready - should this dissolve to conflict, you're no stranger to it. Embrace these new feelings washing over you, but don't forget to breathe."

The Jedi Knight gave him a slight pat on the back, prompting a deep exhale from the Padawan.

"Yes. Breathe. That's good advice, Master." Kel smirked a little as he pulled the robe away from his lightsaber hilt. Jarak admired the design - it was simple in material, durasteel, a single metal of choice and wrapped in a spiraling grip pattern, adding a bit of cultural representation to his weapon. He was not just a champion of the force, but Kel was well aware any Mon Calamari Jedi was a strong source of pride for his people.

Jarak's lightsaber on the other hand, was of no cultural significance. He had no culture to pull from, for he did not know his parents and he did not know where they could be found. He was simply a child of nothing - but from that absence, he had been plucked by the Sith. They always targeted the vulnerable, the frightened. Jarak couldn't remember if he was frightened when the Sith simply plucked him from his mundane job, but he remembered he was alone, unprotected. They simply swooped in and took him, because they could, but he had rejected the darkness and his lightsaber represented that, as he simply took the core foundations of what made his lightsaber, from a Sith Lord's personal collection. The emitter was shot and the pommel had been loosely hanging into the grip, but these were easily replaced and Jarak had done so. His only alterations were the grip, removing the ribbed grip for a smooth handle with etchings of Jedi legends providing grip, and the crystal.

Kel's saber erupted into a brilliant green which appeared to change the colours of his eyes with it's glow. Jarak had drawn his and ignited it in response. This was too soon, but although Kel was the Padawan, Jarak was learning too what a Master and Padawan really could be. He had drawn his saber 'because' Kel drew his. No thought, no pre-decision made, he was compelled to react to join his Padawan in unison. Many believe the force easily controls the weak minded, but the truth was it controlled everything and everyone. The force told Kel to draw, and so it told Jarak to do the same.

"Trust in the force." He said quietly to Kel, but secretly also to himself. Though Kel's eyes focused on the path they had came from, Jarak felt a cold scratching sensation down the right side of his face. He knew someone was coming from the path, he could even see the vehicles approaching at speed, but something pulled his eyes to the higher ridges around the dig site. At first, he thought it was a two-pronged attack, but there was distinctive differences.

Firstly, the newcomers from the path caused a breeze within the force, a windchime playing in the winds of power around them notifying the Jedi of their coming. This was more sinister - it was the touch of evil and Jarak knew it well. He felt anger wash over him again and he exhaled slowly and looked into the core of his strongly lit blue blade. He remembered the mantra Master Kenobi had shared with him, tailored to mending the wounds in his heart.

'I am of the force, I am Jedi,
Darkness comes and I...'

Jarak felt it now, the claws ran deep into his features and his face showed his inner fire burning. The sound in the force from the relics had reached a harmony but now were drowned out as the relics of the Sith began to chant in their own compelling mantra. Jarak knew this would not happen without their own nearby. They had tried to reach to him on his arrival but he had rejected it. Whoever was coming, whoever they were, they were singing to them, praising their arrival.

He turned to the Jedi Historian as she too had felt something, her rich golden blade had been drawn.

"Jarak! They-" Vixtruu called out to him.
"It's the Sith, they come for the relics. Destroy them all!" Jarak called, causing the workers to run for cover and others to grab rifles, carbines, whatever they could to protect themselves, though he regretted the fear they felt.

Jarak drew his saber high and turned away from the path and arriving vehicles. He sensed no threat from them - but now, heat acted like water, pouring from the edges of the ridge. Their hatred and anger flowed before them announcing their arrival, marauders and cut-throats. Jarak could hear their obsession with the Sith arrive before them.

Kel had began to move, but Jarak gave him a look known to him, sending Kel to direct Vixtruu back to destroying the relics before it was too late, whilst he beckoned for R5 D6 to his side.

"Send message to Master Kenobi. Sith on Ossus, we are attacked."

[Zasabi Ray]

The scene as Zasabi arrived was one of impending chaos. Academics and laborers struggled to heft what equipment and weapons they could scavenge, research abandoned in the rocky dust as the threat approached. Two individuals stood proud and tall in their midst, shining blades glowing like the embodiments of justice and goodness they posed as. Meanwhile, the crush of malevolent hatred emanating from their foes was about to break over the crest of the nearby ridge. He couldn't tell their numbers, only their intent.

This was going to be a slaughter if he didn't do something, quickly.

"Nagrom," he yelled to his driver. "Take the speeder back to the others. Redeploy all forces to the work site and engage at range. And get me my armor!"

Hopping over the side of the speeder, he landed in a roll. As he rose, he switched his comm to the site-wide net and began to shout instructions.

"All Alliance personnel, the work site is under assault by enemy forces. All camp personnel withdraw to fallback positions as designated by your doctrine, all worksite personnel..." He paused. There was only one place he could think of that would allow them to defend against the foe with even some margin of success, but it wasn't going to be pretty. "Worksite personnel, move into the temple ruins. Find the most fortified spot possible and hold out until reinforcements arrive!"

Zasabi grimaced. If the enemies were here for what the team had discovered, as he suspected, then the temple would prevent them from using heavy weaponry for fear of damaging their target beyond repair. If they had come simply to slaughter, then he had condemned the camp personnel to the slow death of being sealed beneath rubble and debris.

There was nothing to be done for it. Either he was wrong or he was right, but the enemies were coming either way. Calling upon the Force to silence his presence (Force Mask), he dove for cover among the stones and began to work his way toward the land bridge that connected the work site to the plateau he sensed the invaders coming from. They would be weakest when gathered together in such a narrow passage, such that even one individual could potentially do significant damage. He didn't have any of his explosives with him, having thought they would make a bad impression on the Jedi he had come to negotiate with, but with luck he could at least slow the enemy down.

[Ben Kenobi]

***Along the Salin Corridor***
***Jospro Sector, Near Sy Myrth - S-7***



Four days and three nights the Farfalla had sat in holding position. She sat along the Salin Corridor which was one of the most heavily trafficked hyperlanes in the Outer Rim. This was one of the locations near a junction in the hyperlane where the Galactic Alliance had set up a small security checkpoint at Sy Myrth. This close to Hutt Space as well as the proximity to the beginning of the Salin Corridor proper, it was decided that this was a prime location for the Alliance to monitor the lanes.

The Alliance Checkpoint was only a single space station of the XQ-Series where vessels would drop out of hyperspace on one side of the station, cross a scanning lane where the station could make scans for various contraband such as narcotics or perhaps valid shipping licenses, and eventually the ships would be on their way once more. Should more specific scans be needed there was a local squadron of RZ-1 A-wings to dart around and make concerted flybys.

Sitting outside weapons range but being a presence in itself, the Nebula-class Star Cruiser Farfalla held overwatch of the checkpoint. A Jedi Coalition starship, she was not on-site to conduct Alliance business but rather her starfighter compliment in conjunction with the Alliance Starfighter Corps was given permission to conduct a week’s worth of close-in security scans.

More flight time in the seat of their starfighters made for better and more experienced pilots all around. Rotating out after a full day, two Jedi T-65 XJ X-wings, wingmen, would make the close-in scans of every vessel coming in and out of the hyperspace check point with one of the XQ Station’s RZ-1 A-wing pilots flying as an overseeing official.

All in all it had been smooth sailing. For one the comings and goings had behaved themselves with only one small stir up occurring when an unlicensed vessel coming from Boonta got overly excited and thought to make a run for it. With three starfighters closing on the ship, the nervous pilot quickly powered down and made way to the XQ Platform to receive a good scolding and fine before being turned back loose with a warning to get their shipping license updated immediately.

Aboard the capital ship though the crew as well were well in training. The all Alliance crew had been phased out in lieu of the Jedi Coalition personnel processed and disciplined by the Antarian Ranger Corps. Alliance Navy Officers still served as liaisons and overseers. But the purpose was to train up the Coalition personnel into a proper Naval outfit. It had been so in the past. But the new refit of the Coalition Fleet demanded certain retraining and the movement of other personnel.

Even Jedi Master Kenobi was not exempt from training. While not appointed as Fleet Master at this time, he was currently overseeing the Farfalla due to his prior experience as an Admiral in the Navy during the New Republic Era when Grand Admiral Thrawn threatened the Galaxy.

New formations and the new ratings of these ships had to be studied with great care to learn their capabilities, both offensively as well as defensively. Currently the elder Master sat in the command chair with holographic images of the Farfalla as well as its fighter compliment in front of him. He was studying up on rotation speed of the forward batteries and the just above average statistics that the crew of the gunnery decks were displaying. He made a quick mental note to have them execute more effective drills in the near future.

Just as he checked off on an upcoming fuel shipment the fighter compliment needed, a Cadet rushed to the command area and with a pale look in his face, Ben took his full attention and gave it to the young man. “Master Kenobi, we’ve an urgent message from Ossus.”

Ben sorted information in his mind and knew of the Jedi operation going on there. The historians had found something and Knight Kai had been dispatched to oversee the overall execution. He also knew Alliance Intelligence was to provide security. For a moment he wondered if it had been AI that found disagreement with Knight Kai and this was the reported instance. But the pale officer delivered to him a brief he was not expecting at all.

“Thank you, return to your station.” Ben responded with calm in his voice. For moments the Master sat there processing exactly what had been delivered to him. The Sith were attacking Ossus. The range of Ossus and the Farfalla was not too extreme but it was also not immediate. He could only conclude that Knight Kai and his Padawan would have to endure for the time being. After all, picking up and moving a capital ship of any size was no small thing.

Finally resolved the Master looked up and dismissed the holograms.

“Control. Report to the Check Point that we will be surrendering checkpoint duties immediately and recall our fighter compliment.”

“Get the hyperdrive online and prepare for an immediate jump to hyperspace. Navigation, set course to the Adegan System, Ossus. And get me an ETA.”

He looked out the front viewport. It would likely be another half an hour at minimum before the Farfalla was set to make the jump. Now is where he needed to begin studying patience…

[Jacobi Wylcott]

Keen senses or not, lest one be tuning their skills upon active detection there was no way to follow the precise amount of Force users. Though as proximity closed in the Dark One did detect the fresh changes on the wind and like a whisper he saw one such potent signature all but disappear. A snuffing it was. Treachery. Sabotage. He appreciated the tactic for what it was and he was no fool in supposing now that there was not only full preparation but also traps and snares awaiting him too. All the better. The worst of these, he had no desire to do anything otherwise than to present himself - lies - he too was using stealth in a way - masking the truth of his presence to discard proper identification. If he had not been so focused in that moment perhaps he’d laugh at his own hypocrisy. Not now. There was a time and place and this was not it.

Down the path he did stomp his way until producing himself into the open on the approach to the land bridge. It was upraised only slightly to create an arch over the canyon depths and its width was enough for three men abreast. In assumed strength - just at a glance - it was likely firm enough to hold a heavy vehicle but surely not two.

He unclasped his lightweapon from the hip and gripped it in one tight fist. And so he marched to the foot of the bridge and upon it. Now fully coming into view he could see the temple a ways off from the landing where the bridge terminated. Between the bridge and temple though was what seemed to be an excavation area with various trappings of earth moving equipment. Yet before the site was what appeared to be large workings of stone. Perhaps statues of the past hewn from rock, perhaps giant boulders, perhaps both. But regardless they were all the same way - scorched years ago and worn heavily by the racing winds of the canyon. Unbeknownst to Tormentous this was where his treacherous foe had hidden away.

For the strength of the wind in this canyon he did not hear the approach of the coming speeder reinforcements of the Jedi. This was of no concern though - no matter how many they brought with them today - they’d all die the same. Screaming into hel.

Approaching the apex of the bridge now he did give pause but only for a moment. Letting the wind carry his tattered cloak and for his armor to glean a sinister promise to his enemies. With a snap-hiss his bright red blade burst to life from the emitter of his weapon and he did so point with his free hand outstretched towards the fleeing personnel racing towards the innards of the temple.

By the simple motion of his arm in said manner the E-web cannon, having been set up not but moments prior, opened up. Streams of fire erupted from the higher elevation behind him and fell down onto the site. At such range the fire would not be precise but the idea was - of course - accuracy by volume. Getting heads down in a suppressed manner was often of more value than actually doing harm. To say that these shots though weren’t still aimed was a mistake and some indeed would find their mark should the defenders not be swift in their movements from cover to cover. It was the marksman that would be of danger here as he would take his time and aim properly at opportune targets running from said cover to cover. His objective was to wing the fleeing foes and drop them in the open from where the so-called ‘good-guys’ would surely race to help their downed fellows only to be either sniped for two casualties or cut down by E-web fire.

Far aside from the opening scenario was the orb shaped droid, Tormentous’ espionage unit. It was sure to utilize the rocks of the elevation to view the scene in full and record the unfolding events proper. It had additional mission parameters set for it but for now a certain amount of footage was needed.

Tormentous, having initiated the attack, rolled his shoulders and began the final approach down the other side of the bridge where he’d soon enter the stonework area. The defenders had chosen to not give the order to open fire as soon as enemies - the Sith - presented themselves. For that the Dark Sider had been able to progress across the majority of the open terrain unsullied. While he was sure this was about to change it was also a two way street. There also were no fighters for him to cut down at the outset either. A consolidation of power. He could appreciate their restraint even though he himself would not practise it in kind.

[Professor Mors]

From behind his chitinous facade, Sa'ato watched the incognito Darth stomp out into the open. Even as the Dread Lord gave the order for the E-Web to rain electric crimson into the clearing and the stones beyond, the Neti remained wary of a Jedi counterattack. It was not so much a matter of how or where, but when. And, while the academic was confident his master would not be undone even if the enemy were triple their number, even a Sith could be bogged down with enough luck and tact. Two questions were thus laid bare: how best to support their advance, and minimize the enemy's potency?

With regards to the former, the professor signaled for Chansin to disperse half the cultists in Tormentous' wake. Specifically, he selected those bearing small arms, or hybrid armaments that would remain viable only at close to mid range. The E-Web, naturally, the sharpshooter, and chosen few bearing heavy munitions would remain in rear alongside the academic and his warbot. It remained to be seen whether the Jedi had the numbers to focus on both the vanguard cultists as well as a trained Darksider- for if a single opening was given to either some casualties were guaranteed. Much more problematic, in truth, was the nature cover that sat just ahead of the temple ruins.

The Sith had neither the desire nor the logistical ability to fight a battle of attrition, and Sa'ato knew that if their opponents successfully dug-in it would assuredly impede the Dark Siders' advance. The Neti had to make the terrain undesirable beyond what laserfire could impose. So it was, perhaps to the slight confusion of the Duro marksmen nearby, the academic left his lightweapons idle at the belt, and instead lifted both hands in the direction of the brewing conflict. Gilt irises narrowed toward the jagged and warped stones. The Neti bade his thoughts, like so many unseen ciliary threads, to drift down and out from his mind's eye.

He was not looking– but feeling for the confluences of natural energy that populated the space ahead of the bridge and his sanguine lord. Differences in heat, those celestial corridors which permitted the light to strike the rocky pylons– and that dense, unforgiving matter that allowed for shadows to grow and multiply. It was the lattermost phenomena that the professor began to latch onto, infecting each umbral patch with his essence and manifest will. Through quiet oration, the Neti began laying the psionic groundwork for a snare most vile, summoning ancient incantations from many past hours of laborious study.

All the while, his sinuous digits floated about, occasionally forming archaic shapes or the echo of a written script. Once a proper rhythm was reached, Sa'ato let his speech and movements run on instinct, redoubling his concentration on the target area. Now he had only to wait, and let the cosmic momentum build until the right moment to strike presented itself (Sith Sorcery). Between Dee-One, the E-Web, and his red-eyed marksman, the Neti trusted that any attack made against him while thus occupied could be thwarted, or provide yet another opportunity for his lord to wreak havoc.

Though he knew it had no scientific bearing, Sa'ato could not help but feel a sense of yearning in the scattered pockets of darkness that brushed against his mental tendrils. On this bastion of the Light, perhaps they too had known suppression or disdain from the natives– artificially aligned against the prevailing orthodoxy. The Jedi so prided themselves on their commitment to balance, but would rather obscure and deny the abyss than peer into its depths. The professor would be all too happy to swallow their ignorance within its immensity. Even hope could vanish in an instant if and when the shadows were unfettered…