Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public A City of Fear


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Tags: Open


The gutters were running red. The knives were being plunged. The city was dying. Broken glass from shattered storefronts crunched under his boots. Looters were running wild in this district, either taking the opportunity or being driven mad by Nefaron's toxins. Frankly, it was hard to tell.

Azazel Xaphan would normally have abhorred walking out into the open like this. Too many variables. Too many potential kill-angles. But his superiors had given orders to deliberately observe the effects of the chemical attack first-hand. The holocam mounted on the side of his helmet was recording everything.

<< Contact confirm five infected. Displaying predicted symptoms. Erratic. Sensitive to white light and loud noises. Tend to either flee or lash out at objects or entities that do not exist. >> He raised his blaster carbine to shoot one of the maddened attackers about to bash in the head of a cowering civilian, nailing them square in the lower back. Their nerve stem was instantly severed leaving them paralyzed from the waist down, << Do not show any abnormal resistance to injury or pain. They die like any other mortal. >>

He lowered his barrel to put the man out of his misery before continuing down the street. Several blaster bolts whizzed down his way but they weren't even close. Xaphan didn't bother shooting back.

<< Toxins are highly corrosive. I've already gone through half a filter in an hour. I expect I will have to procure more as this operation proceeds. If we are to deploy this chemical agent in a battle space I highly advise upgrading our troop's chemsuits beforehand. >>

The Pact of Apophis had never shied from chemical warfare, having liberally deployed such weapons during their eight-century-long civil war. But that had been against ill-equipped and weak troops. Now that they were expanding their operations to a galactic level after their recent union with the Sith Order, upgrades had to be made. The Office of Weapons Development had taken a special interest in reports of Darth Nefaron and his particularly vicious concoctions. They certainly weren't willing to give up their ticket to a front-row seat when news filtered down the intel grapevine that Nefaron would be making a public demonstration. His orders had been clear: asses and if need be, make a deal.

Xaphan cursed whoever had given him the order. He was a Death Brigadier, born to bring death to all who opposed the prophet and the Pact, not a silver-tongued broker for Apophis' sake!

But he had yet to disobey a direct order. Shaking his head at nobody, he made his way towards the New Cov Biomolecule Company Headquarters.
 

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The Sith was quick and precise as he sliced through the thick canvas before it could wrap around his person; a single second, even a slight shift of stance could separate a grievous wound from a scratch.

This time, her blade was the scratch. It scorched a path along her opponent's bodyglove, but it did little to slow him down. In the time it took for her to complete the wide arc of her slash, he'd readjusted and jabbed his knee upward for her unguarded midsection. Her torso took the blow, the sickening crack of a rib accompanied by a sharp, strangled intake of breath and an unfeminine groan. Cora stumbled several paces back, lightsaber now raised in guard.

"Tell me," she hissed, her voice coarse as pain spasmed through the muscles of her trunk, "what is it that you fight for?"

The Jedi continued to move backward as civilians in the marketplace parted around them like the sea. Some fled entirely, while a few souls – either too curious or brave or paralyzed by fear to leave – looked on from wherever they'd taken cover.

Cora kept her gaze locked on to the Sith. Feeling out her opponent had a price, but now she knew that he had the quick, deadly movements of an assassin. Was he one of Malum's? Maybe, maybe not. He could be a Kainate, a friend of this Nefaron, or perhaps he served another Lord entirely. Or himself. The complicated network between the Sith and their allies was a web that she couldn't quite untangle, as short as her time among them on Thule had been.

Kasir Dorran Kasir Dorran
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Tags: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania

He felt the force of his knee colliding with the Jedi's body. In that moment, he watched her staggering backward, her balance almost seeming to falter. The groan that escaped her lips was a clear testament to the power of his strike. As he saw the lightsaber position before her, it felt like more of a challenge than a barrier, an invitation to attack.

Now he was fully focused on the woman's words, as if it were a final plea. His pale lips twisted upwards, as if disgusted by what he heard.

Under the High Priest, he always moved through the galaxy like a whisper, barely leaving a trace of his presence. In most instances, his targets lacked any sensitivity to the Force, making them easier prey. With swiftness, each kill always unfolded simply in a flash–efficient and precise, with no room for hesitation. It had been ages since he had faced an adversary of higher caliber in combat. The current encounter with the Jedi felt different; there was no desperate rush for victory right now.

Kasir took a step to his side, his movements slow and calculated, tracing an invisible circle around the wounded Jedi. The Sith enjoyed this game, relishing in the thrill of perceived control, a cat toying with a cornered mouse. "What do I fight for?" the Sith said, his tone full of disdain. "I fight for power," he declared. "Power to reshape the galaxy, to bring order from chaos.” He studied her carefully, searching for any further vulnerability. “I am not a slave to the whims of the Force— I am its master.” his voice was a low hiss.

“You think your struggle is noble, but in this quest for peace, you’re blind to the power that lies in embracing your true self,” Kasir continued, the words lingering in the air as though they were an invitation. The saberstaff began to raise. “And you are merely a stepping stone in my path.”

As he braced himself to finally leap forward, a piercing noise echoed from the background. He stopped his movements altogether. It was not the cry of a dying person; rather, it was that one consumed by madness. The sound was then joined by others. He was quick to recognize it. The creeping toxins were slowly entering the market district.

Drawing upon the dark power that coursed through his veins, he conjured a protective barrier with his offhand. His gaze never left the Jedi before him. “Don't think this is over," he growled.
 
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Patience was not an easy virtue to maintain in chaos. The pain she could push through - and every moment she spent drawing the Sith's ire onto herself rather than the civilians was a moment well spent.

Cora studied Kasir as he paced a slow circle around her, muscles tensing like a cat preparing to pounce. His bitter words lingered in the air, heavy with disdain in the Force.

Screams erupted behind them, interwoven with equal notes of terror and insanity. The Sith sought to prolong their interaction, conjuring a barrier against the toxin.

"This," she gestured to the marketplace as a whole with her free hand, "isn't a fight for power. It's terrorism. Men who are truly secure in their power don't need to express it by harming the defenseless."

You had to break a few eggs to make an omelette. You didn't need to slaughter the whole chicken.

The hand she'd waved towards either side of them suddenly snapped forward. A fluid motion of her wrist brought forth the vines once more; thicker and faster than before, they crashed over abandoned stalls from either side of the marketplace and sought to wrap around Kasir with a vengeance. Burly green stalks would go for his limbs, his torso, even his neck and face - they'd coil tightly, thorns digging into any exposed flesh.

If struck down, fresh tendrils grew from their surface, wrapping around any parts of the Sith they could find purchase, binding tightly to impede circulation. It was a relentless assault, one that had Cora's focus narrowing on the opponent in front of her.

One foot slid back, putting pressure against the pavement as she held her saber low in preparation to push forward and deliver a blow. A fatal strike, a wounding one, it didn't matter - this wasn't a contest of honor.

Screams of a different nature pierced her focus. They came from behind, and these were the cries of the dying. It wasn't the work of the toxin, but the corpse legion as they spilled over into the market and gunned down panicked civilians.

The Sith was in front of her. Innocent were behind her, actively being slaughtered. A split decision was made, and Cora turned her back on the tangle of vines and the enemy within.

The Jedi whipped around, hand thrusting an invisible wave toward the legionnaires. They were bowled over by the Force, then intercepted by the burning blue plasma of her blade.

Kasir Dorran Kasir Dorran
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Tags: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania

Kasir began to shake his head, a mixture of both disbelief and disgust building inside him as he listened to the Jedi. The snarl on his face only deepened. “You're a fool if you truly believe that,” he stated, trying to cut her off mid sentence. But as he saw her hands begin to shift, the Sith was hit by another realization.

He recognized the attack was similar in nature to the one that had marked the beginning of her presence to him here on New Cov. This time they were not just faster; they were noticeably larger and twisting towards him. As he braced himself with a moment to spare, he felt them wrap around his legs first, their grip tightening like a clamp. The pain was tolerable in the beginning, though his movements felt restricted, as if shackled by chains. It didn't take long for them to feel suffocating. With every inch they climbed, he could sense his strength being drained from the struggle.

With a more powerful surge, they continued to advance, nearly pulling him down towards the ground. The pain began to increase by the second, and his protective barrier he had called upon moments earlier vanished. When they found their way around his forearm, the pressure was almost enough to make him lose the saberstaff from his grasp. Raising his eyes, he observed her movement with the lightsaber, as if she were preparing to strike. Fortunately, she would then suddenly appear to be distracted by the suffering and infected citizens of New Cov.

Gritting his teeth, he began pulling with all of the muscle he possessed, feeling the strain spread through his arms and shoulders. Kasir focused on harnessing the boiling rage and frustration that lingered deep within, desperately trying to tap into his sinister like power to aid him. With a primal howl, and one last pull, he wrenched one of his arms free. Without any hesitation, he sliced through the vines that clung to his other arm like a second skin.

One by one their grips loosened as they would hiss and squirm, leaving them scattered. He was breathing heavily now. His fiery gaze landed on the Jedi, who now had her back turned to him, appearing to be caught up in a moment of heroism. With each passing second, the toxins inched nearer, threatening to consume them.

Stunning someone with his Force abilities could prove challenging, as they were rarely used with the intention of being merciful. Still, his offhand lifted from his side, fingers curling in as he concentrated. In an instant, he unleashed a tide of raw energy surging outward. He watched as the invisible wave hurled towards the Jedi, one with the intent on causing her to lose consciousness.
 

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The walking corpses did not flee upon her interception. Why would they? She was comparatively smaller and lacked any traditionally intimidating characteristics.

Their lack of caution made them as aggressive as they were unaware. One lifted his arm to her, and the staccato of a blaster rang out. Bolts sizzled against the graceful angling of her blade, deflecting back the legionnaire and pocking his torso. Another carrying an axe swung at her from behind, but his arm was severed before he could cleave though her shoulder.

A third, a fourth, and then a fifth – they stole her focus as she wove between them, ducking and dodging until an opening was created. One lost his head, the other fell to a diagonal slash along his midsection. The last grabbed a fistful of her hair, but her saber was buried in his chest a millisecond before he could yank her head back. A beat passed as she let out a shuddering exhale.

Then, Cora's body seized, unable to sense the surging wave until it was too late. The Force struck her with paralytic intent and she wavered on her feet.

It almost would've been a familiar sensation, one she'd used to pacify opponents before, that she was now on the receiving end of. All at once, her muscles uncoiled and the saber hilt slipped from her grasp. She fell to the ground, her vision narrowing into darkness until even the maddened screams around them went quiet.

Kasir Dorran Kasir Dorran , having stunned his prey into unconsciousness, slung the fallen Jedi over his shoulder. While their surroundings would still prove treacherous – the encroaching toxin and the bloodthirsty Corpse Legion were still very much present – a trained Force user was far more prepared and capable than the average civilian.

They'd reach the starport, but Cora wouldn't awaken until New Cov was just a speck in the vast expanse of space.

- Thread Exit -
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Ar'chii Terallo

Guest
A
Objective: II

With my daughter secured and the labs locked down, my job now is to ensure that they stay that way. I am not a man of action, but a man of words. As I listen to the broadcast I am reminded of a holo-series that used to play here for years. As always there is a villain that causes pain and suffering before turning the blame to others other than themselves. It is a narcissistic move and one that those corrupted by power tend to rely on.

It is a shame, really. There was a far better path for him to gain what he sought rather than the one that he chose. But the corrupted cannot fathom the bigger picture for their sight is too narrow-minded.

I listen to the latest broadcast and it saddens me, so much so that I leave the stairwell and head into my office. It is to the large bay window that I walk towards, meaning to take a look at the destruction below. No other word can express what I see but chaos. However I am confident in the abilities of our defenders. Oh there are many lessons to be learned this day. History has a tenacity to repeat itself. I can only hope that the cycle grows even further apart.

Tag: Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron
 

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