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Time was running out. Symara and Lavali had flown in keeping cover on the infantry squad that had been accompanying Sgt. Halifax. "And we were supposed to put a dent in this thing?" Lavali says getting a better look at it, "what in the goddess were we thinking?"
Symara now sitting in the gunner's nest kept firing, "we don't! We're just soldiers, aaaaahhhh! Take that you Sith-cowards!"
"How many of these guys are there?" The pilot asked as he ducked from whatever AA was being shot up toward him, the drop ship moved around like a helicopter sweeping for Sith Troopers. The snow was littered with the dead and dying, and in between ran Halifax, "there! There! Halifax! Firemane camp insight!"
Halifax radioed up, "I don't see the Acolyte!"
"There!" Lavali shouted, "routing coordinates to you."
On the ground, Halifax looked at the coordinates he was given and bolted in that direction. Infantry worked to wrap up the Firemane camp and ordered in more dropships. While the lone Sergeant ran to grab the downed Acolyte, reaching her he sets her arm over his shoulder. Charlyra groans and the Sergeant looks down her lightsabres still in the snow. Setting her back down he works to put her lightsabres into her belt and then once more lifts her and begins to drag her back toward the camps. "I need a pick up! Now!"
"We're coming down," Lavali remarks, as the Firemane dropships depart with Quartermaster Ural and company wrapped up and heading out into orbit to the nearby cruisers that were waiting. Major Lavali Sanjeet's ship came down to hover as the Sergeant loaded Acolyte Araano onto it and hopped up. Lavali shut the door and gave a thumbs up to the pilot who lifted the dropship back up. "Status on the other Fire Sisters?"
"Still inside," Halifax reports, "up toward the top."
"Right, pilot! Take us up!" She ordered, "Tarriq stay on the guns."
Halifax set the Acolyte comfortably covering her with a blanket and giving her head a pillow to rest on. He then dialed up one of the Fire Sisters. [member="Nima Tann"], "Master Tann - Sgt. Halifax of Firemane Paramilitary, you have any idea where in the top you are, we've got a dropship waiting for you and Master Elaris."
Location: Center of Omega Allies: [member="Wolf"] [member="Samka Derith"] [member="Vustia"] [member="Doc"] [member="Thresh Sken"] Gear: Sonic Pistol, Slugthrower pistol, Lightsaber, 2 bottles of liquor, datapad
It was a shame that they had all denied my offer to fly them up. It didn’t hurt my feelings that they didn’t trust me while I was drinking. Not many would, but what Darksiders feared such things? They were truly acting like mundane beings as though the proposition of death scared them. Remembering my own death, I thought back to how my last moments had been me looking up into the barrel of a flamethrower. The flames swallowed me and for the first few seconds I wished for nothing but death, eventually the darkness took me and I was at peace. At least till my wife and her clan of witches revived me. Death wasn’t all that bad in reality.
About to answer the rambunctious young Knight that felt the need to comment on what state I was in when suddenly I felt a warning through the force. Beneath me I felt the vibrations of the catwalk as it shook and was soon ripped from beneath all of us. Caught off guard by the suddenness of the attack I fell and having been at the rear there was no way for me to reach the other side. I fell the bottle of liquor I had been holding falling free of my grasp and tumbling to the ground below. So arrogant I had been that I hadn’t even been expecting such a simple attack. What type of Master was I? Before I had even realized it I had fallen over three meters. Back facing the ground my spine would’ve been shattered were it not for my use of the force.
Eyes closing, I released myself to the wind. Empty your body and mind. Only then will you become the wind. The very words spoken by Shiva, it was almost as though I felt her presence filling me, urging me to continue on and just like that my eyes shot open. My fall had halted and I hovered suspended in the air. “I still got it.” However as evident by anyone who can fly with the force it made you a big target. Flipping backwards I dodged three blasterbolts meant to shoot me out the sky. The Stormtroopers who had fired on me continued firing and I took evasive maneuvers. Flying was one of the most freeing things in the universe and here I was doing it. Compressing the air around myself I bolted for the first stormtrooper. I had become a living battering ram. Two blasterbolts struck the shield of air right before I hit the poor soldier with enough force to flatten a wookie. There were no screams as my flight came to a stop the troopers body still flying from the momentum of the attack it flew backwards into the wall with a multitude of crunches.
Looking up I saw the First Order continuing their rise to the top. How wonderful, continuing my own ascent upwards at an incredibly rapid rate I weaved through the air. All around me the heat of blasterbolts swarmed over my body. Some had been too close for comfort and just before I reached the top one caught me in my shoulder. Like a Starfighter losing a wing I tumbled through the air my concentration broken by a wave of pain. My robes had barely protected me from the bolt but the skin beneath was still roasted. The flesh raw and burnt. Tumbling a few more feet I used the hatred and pain to halt my downward fall. The flames of my being were emitted from my feet acting as thrusters that threw me over the last ledge to join the other First Order knights and soldiers.
My arrival had been timed just right as [member="Samka Derith"] was delivering her speech. Was she truly trying to talk a Sith into releasing their hold on life? How often had that truly worked? How many Sith would let go of immortality when that was the goal of many? I knew the tale of Sion, and his case had indeed been a rare one. Or perhaps she was buying time? I had no clue but as the Sith raised her hand I instantly reacted. How easy it would’ve been to sit back and let Samka be killed by the Sith to let her life end. But then I would end up having not only the Sith to fight but her own allies.
With my right shoulder useless for the next few minutes while it healed I raised my left, compressing a burst of air I released it with explosive force matching that of a freight speeder directly at Darth Molior.
Location: Central Control Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"]; First Order; [member="Ordo"] ; [member="Krenis Skirata"] Enemies: Rogue Sith; Conflicting thoughts.
The sudden appearance of the T-visor helmet wearing warrior beside him made him curse himself for being so careless. His attention had been fully focused on the terminal and the feelings that tore within him. Had the Mandalorian not been an unusual ally at this moment of time, the agent would've not had the time to even say his last rites. Nonetheless, the man had proved as good cover from the raining blaster fire and destruction that reigned around them. There was a bizarre calm that battle brought to one's conflicting emotions within. The more destruction around, the more his doubtful thoughts within were subsided.
A tank of a man, another Mandalorian, broke through the numerous lines of soldiers and undead that were growing more and more by the second and came in as a bulwark against the enemies such as the previous Mandalorian. Jude did not have the luxury of time to ask them questions or anything but simply nodding to their urgency. He focused on that while his mind wandered around, Jude felt how his connection with the Sith Lord was slowly disappearing replaced by the darkness that he had earlier detected. There was an odd sensation of sadness to that. Nonetheless, perhaps it was the mental bond, perhaps not, Jude hoped that she would survive. He only stole one glimpse at the woman with who he had passed through the rings of hell.
One last message he would send at Matsu telepathically. A message he rarely conveyed to anyone but his parents.
Jay Sort of thanked her.
He abandoned the connection to focus on what was to be done. Jude's thanks were due to the confidence she stirred within him as they passed the threshold of the door from the maintenance corridors to the central control room. Yes, to anyone else, they would sound ridiculous and the typical words of a Sith Lord. Yet, it had boosted his spirits within and brought out the talented agent that he was. The man that could do the job, the man who would not be torn.
Stone cold, as much as he could be, with the hell that had broken loose around them, Jude finally made out the information that was being transferred on his datapad. The agent's options was limited and when he finally had a clearer picture of what he could do, time stood still. It froze around him. Fear clutched his chest and the seconds seemed to go by like decades. Blood abandoned his head and he felt lightweight. He bit at his lip continuously till it bled as the decision to do it or not to stood in front of him. His heart raced and so did his thoughts. Everything was a mess. Was it worth it ? Would he survive ? Would he be alive after this ? Life was precious. Why was this decision brought down on him ? Why ?
He looked around him. Death. And death brought back to live to sow more death. And more death. It was all that was occurring. And he realized it there and then.
He'd do his job not as an intelligence agent but as simply Jude Falkrowe.
The blonde left his mind disperse into the room and into the flow of the Force. The cacophony of thoughts and emotions, their sudden interruption as death found them and the cries for help within their spirits brought Jude physically to his knees. Straining himself as much as possible, he focused upon the staff that were still attempting to bring the weapon to face the planet. All thralls of someone powerful. No. All believed to be doing the right thing. All were simply doing their jobs. His heart skipped a beat at the feeling that these men and women here all had their own families, their own lives beyond their grim dark green uniforms. Jude reigned himself in, he was being absorbed in other identities. Those were one of the dangers of mentalism, the lose of your identity and literally 'drowning in the flow of the Force'. Becoming only a husk of your own self to the physical world. Just like those in the cages be-
Reign yourself in, Jude Falkrowe.
The agent stabilized his thoughts and focused his powers upon those same uniformed men and women controlling the Omega. Miscalculation, tardiness, carelessness. All feelings that would increase their chance of mistakes were dumped upon their minds like a hammer. Fear, worry, scattered attention. All battered in their minds like the stomping hooves of a charging cavalry. Jude then turned his attention as slightly as possible to the datapad on his wrist. The option was clear as day.
Location: Escaping from Reactor 3, making entrance at Reactor 1 Allies: [member="Cabur Aranar"], [member="Cole Dagos"] Enemies: Omega troops Objective:Escape explosion, enter Reactor 1 in style, save Cole
As the droid flew through the vacuum with his Mandalorian companion, he scanned the area one last time and then realized something. The debris now littering the space in their vicinity, he recognized it. According to his calculations it was part of Spirit of Druckenwell, a flagship of the Protectorate during his time, captained by that goat Ayden himself. The droid recalled that battle against the renewed Confederacy of Independent Systems, when they brought down the shipyard ring around their own planet to devastate it and grant Protectorate hollow victory. It didn't completely work but still there were a lot of civilian casualties, so a new ship was made in their memory, and to spear-head revenge against the Confederacy.
The droid wondered then, if the Spirit was there, at least at one point, was Ayden there too? Little did HK know, Ayden was already dead and the droid would not get a chance to bother the previous Lord Protector,
Stupid, sexy Ayden.
Going back to the present, the droid was able to fly through the doorway with Cabur and remaining survivors of the shuttle as he hit the deck, covering his helmeted head with his large gauntlet covered hands and skidding across the floor,
"Sarge, my love, I am coming!"
He called out, just in case they were about to get vaporized.
The blast door slammed down and the large explosion rocked their area, the barrier held however and it sure seemed that they were going to be alright. After few seconds the droid reconciled himself and pushed himself up to stand again, realizing the Mandalorian asked him something,
"You hit your head pretty bad when the shuttle rocked during take-off, you must have had a vision of the one true Machine God and realize his is the righteous way."
The droid turned away, scanning the corridors to determine which way to go,
"I once fought him during the Protectorate's campaigns against the cultists of Chaos, he is a giant metallic dragon, breathing fire, acid, and techno-viruses. I destroyed him and he possessed my vessel, so Siobhan dropped a building on me."
He looked back to Cabur,
"I got over it and he is still somewhere out there. Come on, let us move, there is another reactor nearby, if we do not shut this thing down, a lot of people might die."
The droid would start to move out down the corridor, quickly picking up on speed with his mechanical legs,
"My name is Hunter Killer, unit 36, by the way, but most people just call me Iron Knight, Their One True Lord And Protector, for short. Which makes you my squire, little lady, I hope you always wanted to be a hero!"
Perhaps Cabur heard the tales in the past about how the Omega Protectorate near their end briefly elected a machine as their ruler, or maybe he is old enough to remember the event, either way, down the corridor they went, towards Reactor 1.
[member="Kith Verloren"]
Moving the action along, once they closed in on the Reactor 1 the droid motioned for Cabur to stop and be quiet, the machine peeked his head in to look inside, seeing Cole facing off against multiple stormtroopers, the soldiers trying to stun him into submission. Pulling back the machine looked at Cabur,
"Alright, we have a guy in there and a bunch of pissed off stormtroopers."
HK scanned a door they were standing by, he knocked on it to see how thick it was,
"So here is the plan, I will run in, distract them, you provide suppressing fire and pick some off while I will grab him, got it?"
The machine reached to dig his Phrik claws into the door,
"Tell me, do you like to sing?"
Few seconds later, Cole and the stormtroopers inside could hear a wicked screech of metal as a large armored figure appeared in the doorway, holding a durasteel door with two hands like a tower shield,
"Kote!"
He bellowed out as he started to sing the Mandalorian war song, Vode An and charged full speed towards stormtroopers, seemingly fully determined to ram the ever-loving Force out of them with his makeshift barricade,
There was only one opening it would only for a moment be there. Her visor fed her information How many heat signatures, hot weapons, and she could hear voices but she could also see energy She heard someone yell DONE that sent a chill up her spine. It was now or never Arla ran towards the reactor and triggered her last missile to go in destroy the reactor before it could blow up and kill them all. That left her with the grenade and her pistol.
Cole was in trouble Fething flimsy armored Eschan what was he thinking he should have just come with her. nooo they could have stayed away kark nooo cause well warrior yeah no oh then theres the whole going out in a blaze of glory really!
no there was no growing old in their culture there was only the moment and the moment was now. She turned to run as two troopers grabbed her Arla punched with her crushgauntlets. Kicking as she reached for one troopers blaster yanking it from the holster she began pulling the trigger unsure if she hit anything She landed another punch and then gave one a keldabe kiss knocking him back. This time she took aim and fired.
The other was trying to pull her buy'ce off or break her neck Arla dropped the blaster and pulled the knife from her armor. She jammed it upwards and between the white armor plates.
He let go dropping back.
Arla started for the door She needed to get to Cole.
LOCATION: Central Control ALLIES: [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Krenis Skirata"] | [member="Ordo"] ENEMIES: Darth Sicarii & Friends
Both. He was capable of both.
Her vision shuddered, kaleidoscopic with the rush of blood to her head, jagged like the way the light from their sabers arced over his face when he blocked her. She felt the pull of gravity that seemed to draw inwards towards him as he used the Force to shove outwards with more power, a sensation she was all too familiar with from all her clashes with Siobhan Kerrigan. But even with that experience her strength was no match for his and she found herself stumbling backward, clearing a few feet between them.
It was then she realized that in order to have a chance she needed the entirety of her mental power to bear, and that space she’d shared with Jude had to be shut. Almost at the same time she felt a sliver of a sadness that belonged to him, wavering but clear like some mental wave of goodbye. And a thank you. Had she the luxury of time she might have felt bewildered when suddenly it wasn’t his sadness but her own. (Years. Well, I suppose everything comes back around.) All in the space of a second it happened, but just before their connection closed and left her alone in the fortress of her mind again, she thanked him too. For what? It was up for him to decide, though by all rights she should have been bothered that he seemed to be able to puzzle her - but maybe just for sitting in her head and making her glad she’d shared.
Like cells in telophase their connection pinched and split, departing in different directions for the same goal.
And after the second that seemed like a year she brought the full force of her mental power to bear on Sicarii. Of course, the chances of his having at least some degree of being able to fight her were high. But where sorcery had become some of her pet, mentalism was comfort. To fight an opponent like the Sith Lord before her she needed to be able to do without thinking, to work with something she understood with her eyes closed - even a moment’s hesitation would see her a slick red line on the floor of Omega, forgotten. She channeled her confusion, sadness, hunger, rage in to one tiny compressed little line that she imagined white-hot and unforgiving towards the Sith Lord’s mind.
She was no great wave, no hurricane, no tornado darkening the skies in her approach. She was quiet - the disease that took root and festered, the poison that suffocated, the famine that laid waste. When she reached for Sicarii’s mind she was silence incarnate, a spider with legs sharp and ready for war burrowing down in to his brain and searching for anything at all she might exploit. Every man was scared of something. Failure? Anonymity? Dying on this ship having accomplished nothing at all? Perhaps something more concrete - a place he’d known when he was younger and closer to human than he was now? A scent that brought him to another place, another time? Her searching became more invasive as she clawed at gray matter, wild as she threw her power in to trying to build some illusion in front of him if she could break in to his head - make him see what he was afraid of.
But regardless of whether she managed to build something detailed enough to distract him - even she even saw anything clue at all - she stepped through the shadow of her creation to press in to his space. Her saber swung lower than the first time, pressing the unlikely advantage of her short height to force him to move his arms a further distance to block lower on his body than if she’d attacked his torso.
If she could stay within the bubble he wanted to create for himself she could not only try and keep his blows from increasing in power if she were standing any farther away, but she kept him distracted. She didn’t care much about the fate of the Omega or the Mandalorians giving the Troopers hell, but satisfying her craving for another’s power could at least be put to good use in helping Jude stay off the Lord’s radar.
Location: Aboard the Omega, Reactor Room 2 Affiliation:The New Republic and her allies Nearby: [member="Zark"], [member="Elpsis Elaris"], [member="Nima Tann"], [member="Thoja Arlos"], [member="Arla Balor"] DMs: [member="Kith Verloren"], [member="Omega"]
Most people loved flight. The weightless feeling. The world passing beneath you. But in this moment, Dax couldn't have disagreed more. Below him the battle raged in what felt like slow motion, the seconds ticking by into what became hours. The Sith snuck beneath Zark's guard as he charged forward, the saber's below him prepared to impale him. Dax felt a stab of fear pass through, right through the chest, where he imagined his death would burn its way through him. As resigned as Dax had always been to his fate, the possibility of death had never ceased to generate fear. And yet as quickly as the fear of death had pierced his soul, another emotion replaced it. A sacrifice was made as Zark's arm was severed at the forearm, clearing the way for Dax's attack. What replaced the fear was not joy or relief, but responsibility...Zark lost his arm because I slipped up...a pain of another kind coursed through him, and just as quickly it mutated to rage. A rage which awakened a slumbering darkness locked away. I won't be responsible for another friend's death flashed through Dax's mind. With a roar Dax fell upon the Sith, the sabers flashing violently.
The group that had come in together started working together. It was readily apparent that their chosen method was difficult on the catwalks and would have been far simpler on a wider space, but either they had practice or were just plain lucky: they made it work. It was a stark contrast to the one who'd run in shouting a challenge...he simply faced the brunt of a massive wave of dark power.
Above them, the group was faced with collapsing catwalks. He couldn't be sure at this distance, but it appeared as if the metal was simply gone, or maybe compacted, rather than melting as the result of blaster fire. None of the glowing, all of the gone. Some reacted quickly, leaping to safely. Others started falling, only to catch themselves or be caught at the last moment. The lone Sith, somehow having brushed off whatever the Force-based attack had been, leaped up and worked to secure others of them before continuing upwards. A distraction still.
The biggest surprise yet was when the older Jedi directed the Sephi to help the others. He didn't know why it was a surprise, whether from helping those so obviously using the Dark Side or the implication that the apparent human would not be, or maybe from the suggestion that he'd "draw fire". Didn't matter though, they didn't have time for it to matter. With a short nod, he shut the door nearest to them; it made no sense to leave the other Jedi open to ambush, nor did it make sense to seal the nearest method of escape.
"Watch your back."
With a burst of Force power, the Sephi followed the example of the challenging Sith. He holstered his weapons and leapt. His leaps didn't have the full height he was capable of, no doubt a side effect of his continuing recovery, but they were enough. Sometimes he climbed even, skittering up the metal scaffolding by pure strength of muscle instead of raw Force power. Thirteen stories was not an insignificant climb, and he was starting to feel the strain by the time he began to catch up. Of course, by that time duplicates were starting to swarm throughout the place, detailed enough that - distracted as he was - Audren couldn't tell what ones were real and what ones weren't. The chunk of metal falling towards Tiland below was very much real however. Stopping it would be too much effort...but he could alter the fall. A cable of Force power impacted the falling metal, nudging it to the side. Not much, but the effort would be cumulative given lack of resistance; it should be enough to miss by a healthy margin.
Unfortunately, the effort cost him. His lack of attention for that split second or two had allowed a stormtrooper to close in on him and blast him square on with one of the scatterguns that were so effective against lightsabers. Not that Audren even had his out. The impact was taken straight in the back. Luckily most of it was caught by the Dallorian alloy plate there, and much of the impact by the kinetic gel beneath. But the impact still hurt, the plating there was ruined, the gel now locally inert, and more importantly the impact still knocked him over the railing he was standing next to. He barely managed to grab hold of the lip with his left hand, and as he swung underneath his lightsaber flared to life. The orange blade cored through the metal like the cliched hot knife through nerf butter. Not a molecule of the stormtrooper's armor was shaved by the blade, but the grating itself was compromised. The trooper's weight collapsed it, and the armored form was sent down. Gravity, after all. Really should have turned it off.
Another swing allowed him to fall to another catwalk not far to the side, from where he began his climb again. Some of the initial group had already arrived up top, others had not. Almost as a rule however, they were all higher than he was. Shutting his lightsaber down, the Jedi resumed his ascent, more slowly than before given the damage he'd incurred to his back and his left shoulder. The catwalks themselves were used as cover as much as possible, some of the stormtroopers were still shooting at anything not in white armor. He would not fail in the mission to end the threat of Omega, so obviously controlled by the being here in the Heart.
He grit his teeth as he continued to make his way up, his crimson blade cutting through the remaining troopers that blocked their path. Wolf's muscles ached and groaned, and his legs urged him to give up. His determination received a new sense of vigour as he noticed Samka jump from the wall and up to a platform above. Did she not know that was the final platform? Did she not know that she would now face the demon alone? Wolf growled, his muscles surging with the Dark Side as he ascended the final catwalk. He could not let Samka face her alone, this was suicide. His heart pounded in his chest as he made his way up to the platform, the Force propelling him faster than humanly normal. His stomach churned with anticipation as he reached the summit.
They were foolish to have not come up with some kind of strategy before engaging her. His mind raced as he neared the top, desperate to think of some plan of attack. The troopers distract, then he, Samka and Thresh charge forward? Samka uses lightning, while he attacks? The troopers throw grenades? All three of them use the Force and try to push her off the platform? None of these were exactly awe-inspiring plans, and he had the growing feeling that they were woefully unprepared for this encounter. Nevertheless, he could only hope that the sheer force of numbers would prevail, and they would be able to overwhelm their enemy.
Wolf froze as he reached the top, watching as the small girl in front of him collapsed to the ground with a single swipe of the Dark Lady's hand. Any plan of attack fell to the ground with her. His eyes widened in horror. Wolf refused to believe what he had just witnessed. The shock and fear that had taken him by surprise was overwhelming, though it was fast transforming into anger and a burning desire for vengeance. He surprised himself at the rage that was brewing within him, the feral outburst that was threatening to break loose in the usually composed man. His fellow Knights of Ren were the closest things he had to friends.
It is time for the demon to die. He darted forward, desperate to prevent a further attack on his comrade, that is if she was still alive. The Dark Side surged and raged through his muscles, he called upon it to carry him forward as quickly as possible, faster than was humanely possible as his lightsaber came forward, desperate to land a strike on Molior. Where is the strategy, Wolf? Where is the next great plan? Or will you run at her like a fool? He had to keep his emotions in check, the rage that bubbled underneath threatened to make him do something stupid, but there was no time to formulate some grand plan of attack while Samka was in danger. He directed his emotions into propelling him as fast as he could.
The arrival of [member="Nomar"] no doubt would help. The inebriated Sith evidently wielded a considerable amount of power, as Wolf watched him fire a powerful blast of the Force at the Sith Lady. Wolf could only hope that this would stall her long enough for him to get in close. Otherwise he too could face the same dismissive attack of hers, where she would stop their hearts as if they were nothing to her. They could not be sure what plan of attack to use without knowing the full extent of her powers. Was there a possibility that perhaps her lightsaber skills were her weak point? Wolf highly doubted it. They were dealing with an ancient Sith Lord, not some simple consular who had neglected their lightsaber lessons. The lightsaber of Kylo Ren spat and raged as he charged forwards. Would the ancient Sith wish to taste an ancient blade?
Given the attack from Nomar, Wolf would hope he managed to get in close to the Dark Lady. And if he did, he would growl as his right arm came up and around in a swipe, aiming to cut the head from the shoulders of Darth Molior and end this once and for all. A nagging feeling told him it would not be that easy however. If she were to block his strike, he would engage her in lightsaber combat, attempting to parry anything she might return to him, and counter-attack with his own strikes. Unfortunately for Wolf, though he was proficient with a lightsaber, he was no blade master, but he hoped with her potentially being distracted he could land a blow.
The sickening feeling of meeting his demise crossed his mind, and continued to nag at him no matter how much he tried to push it out. He was young, what had he achieved thus far to prove his life significant? He had not conquered the stars with his Supreme Leader, the First Order was still growing. Was there a world to come beyond those gates of blackness, and would he find solace there, or pain? Would his ideals be proven right, or would he only be remembered as another nameless dark warrior and menace to the galaxy? It did not matter. What mattered now was that this foul creature before him was slain. He did not care how he was remembered, and what glory or honour may be afforded to him. He stared resolutely into the gates of death. He did not fear it. He could not afford to.
Location: Omega, Reactor 3 -> Reactor 1 Allies: The Metal Machine [member="HK-36"], [member="Cole Dagos"] and anyone else making efforts to destroy the Omega. Enemies: Probably those guys in red. Objective: Help destroy Reactor 1.
So that was why the Mandalorian couldn't remember multiple minutes of his life. He knew that Devaronian who sold him this armour was ripping him off! He had thought all helmets came without any padding, but today's events proved him wrong. He'd have to track him down one day and demand compensation, knowingly selling defective armour was surely against some law, somewhere! With the money from that he might finally be able to afford to buy Beskar-smithing lessons to make his own armour and not have to use armour made by untrustworthy people!
But this stuff about the Machine-God, it was interesting. Was it some kind of new god that Cabur had not heard of? A new addition to the Pantheon, a god that Odiir and the others had been protecting them from? It was a real god after all, the Metal-Machine had fought him after all and who was he to doubt his words? The Machine-God, a giant dragon made of metal who breathed fire, acid and some kind of techno-virus. Cabur was certain he had heard tales of such a thing when he was younger on Midvinter. A few of the locals had tales passed down by their ancestors of giant metal beasts in the sky, that spit fire that could destroy a house in seconds. He had always assumed that they were actually seeing spaceships, but this new information has shed some light on these occurrences. Perhaps it was the Machine-God, a large beast of metal, bent on destroying Midvinter and all life, but defeated by the Valkyri Pantheon and their champions. Cabur hadn't been there, so he didn't know for certain, but all the evidence seemed to be pointing in that direction.
Wait, had he just created a heresy? Nevermind that, more important things to focus on.
"Ah, so that is your name, pleased to meet you, HK-36. My name would be Cabur Aranar of Clan Aranar. I must sadly admit I have only heard of the people you talk of through news articles and reports from fellow Mandalorians; I never had the pleasure of meeting a representative of the Omega Protectorate personally, until now that is."
He followed the droid, trying to keep up the droid's pace.
He was called a lady, again. It seemed that the Droid was either lacking the data when it came to mammalian biology, or simply did not care for Cabur's attempts at clarification. He shrugged it off, there was no point in trying to correct him, it was probably only going to confuse Cabur further, just like the fact that he had now apparently become the Squire to the great Iron Knight, One True Lord and Protector. He didn't know what to feel. So his brain started mixing emotions. The current cocktail he was feeling was "Fourth Ring of Corellian Hell", about two drops of optimism, a hundred millilitres of fear for your life, two slices of bravery, a teaspoon of "Oh god, I'm gonna' die", and all of it mixed with a large bottle of confusion.
Luckily the confusion soon started to die down a bit, HK had pointed out enemy soldiers. Cabur always knew what to do when there were enemies around, well, most of the time at least. He listened to the Protector's plan and nodded.
[member="Kith Verloren"]
"Singing, what do you- Oh."He watched the Iron Knight charge into the room with the door as his shield, singing the first words to the Mandalorian war chant. Now, Cabur enjoyed a good War chant, but he usually sang different tunes, more relaxed ones. Today was an exception however. He pitched in and started singing the song as well.
"Coruscanta a'den mhi, Vode an."
The Mandalorian charged in right after, leaning slightly outwards to get a clear shot from behind the improvised shield-carrier, letting his WESTAR-34's rain red bolt-y death onto the group of Stormtroopers, doing his best to avoid hitting the man that was being attacked by those dastardly men. Can't even pick a fair fight, truly they had no honour!
A sudden stabbing pain hit Samka's chest and everything went cold.
"Oh."
The little whimper was the only sound that she could manage to make before the girl collapsed to ground. She was vaguely aware of the sound of lightsaber's igniting, footsteps nearby and blurring figure of the emotionless Sith Lord but none of it seemed to matter. Patches of white filled her vision eventually that's all everything was. Just white.
.....
There was a jerking motion to her shoulder. "-ake up, Samy. Come on!"
"I am awake! I was just resting my eyes," Sam replied.
Madlin Ordlin grinned and shook her head. "You are such a bad liar! I bet you were up all night watching cartoons again!"
"Cartoons are for little children!" Sam protested but her friend smirked back.
"Like you then?"
Madlin was the only person in the galaxy who could get away with such teasing. Sam enjoyed her company too much to berate her for it. The older girl was a Zeltron, marked by red skin and unusual pinkish hair colour. At 12 years old she had yet to develop into the attractive shape Zeltron women were renown for but she was already popular with the opposite sex of her age. Sam could never understand why girls wanted to associate with boys. Boys were loud, mean and had a rude sense of humour. In short, the thoughts of a girl yet to hit puberty. So when they approached her best friend and tried to ask her out, Sam would be standing at the side pouting. Madlin always turned them down though. Sam may not have understood liking boys but she understood why they liked Madlin. Madlin not only emitted the naturally calming scent of her species but was kind and protective by nature.
"Come on," the Zeltron snapped her fingers. "Let me quizz you, Sammy girl! You're supposed to be studying after all!"
Sam rolled her eyes, "When am I going to use this stuff?"
A devious look crossed Madlin's face as she snatched Sam's history holo from her. "I'll have you know that..." Madlin glanced at the question on the holo "Understanding the role played by Viceroy Nute Gunray in the causes of the Clone Wars is critical to everyday life."
Sam could only groan and bury her face in her hands, earning an affectionate ruffling of her long brown hair. "Come on Sammy, you're a smart girl. You've got this!"
"Fine, let me read it out to you," Sam took the holo back from her friend and cleared her throat dramatically. Madlin leaned forwards with her head in her hands with mocking enthralment. "The Republic Senate's introduction of a higher rate of tariffs (taxation on the transport of goods) caused tension with the Trade Federation. In response Nute Gunray ordered a blockade of- URRRGH." Sam let out an exaggerated groan of boredom causing her friend to giggle.
"If only it could have stayed like this..." The tone of the conversation suddenly changed and Madlin reached out to squeeze Sam's hand.
She squeezed Madlin's hand back but twisted her head in confusion. It was only just occurring to her now how odd the environment was. This was father's study, the place where she and Madlin always used to revise for schoolwork together yet it was oddly empty. It was mostly unfurnished, missing key details and the colour was drained. Thumping sounds echoed from outside the room, blaster fire, lightsabers, people yelling and screaming.
"M-Madlin, what's going on?" Sam looked fearfully into the older girl's eyes. Whatever this was, Madlin would protect her. She always had. But there was no reassurance in the Zeltron's deep blue eyes, only sorrow.
"Ever since you went missing I never stopped looking for you," she stared into Sam's eyes, seemingly able to completely ignore whatever was happening just outside these walls.
"Maddy, I'm right here!" This was becoming too much. She was confused. Nothing made sense.
"Your parents ignored me, they said you went to live with family on Christophsis for a while but I knew that wasn't true." Madlin continued as though Samka had not spoken. "You... you just vanished, Sam."
Memories began to flood back to Sam. Images of things yet to happen, of masked men and soldiers clad in white armour. Of torture and pain and how she was the one doing it. The entire room suddenly lit up in red. Out of the window of her father's study Sam could see a superweapon in the sky, getting ready to destroy the planet. The Omega.
Swallowing hard Sam turned back to her friend, still holding hands. "What is this?" She asked pitifully.
"A few months ago," Madlin continued, "I saw you in the news, the background of a report on an explosion. You were back on Cloud City, after that there was a trail." She began to talk quicker as though time was running out. "It led all over the outer rim, I couldn't believe it. I followed every lead, many were false but a few... you were there. I know it. Just... I couldn't believe what you did." Her lip quivered slightly as she spoke. "You killed people, Sam. You killed people with such cruelty..."
At that moment Sam knew her attention should be on Omega but she was drawn to Madlin instead. "Do you hate me?" It was all she could bring herself to say. Her parents had never been the loving, attentive sought so Madlin was the only person she'd met in her entire life Sam could earnestly say she loved. The idea that her best friend could reject her was all that mattered.
But Madlin shook her head. "No. How could I? I just... I want you to know that this isn't you. I know you! I know my sweet little best friend who is so full of kindness and sympathy!" Madlin paused. Her voice had begun to grow more distorted like a connection was breaking. "You died but I'm sending you back," she stated. "and I'm going to find you again. Promise you'll come to find me too."
Sam nodded as the two girls locked eyes. There was no question about it. She'd disconnected herself from her past before but now it seemed impossible. This was no delusion. This Madlin was real, something in her gut knew it. Then the Omega fired leaving Sam still staring at her best friend's tearful face as all was consumed in hellish red.
....
Samka Derith gasped for air on the floor. The battle against Darth Molior was unfolding before her and, somehow, she was back to take part in it. Reaching for her lightsaber which was on the floor besides her, Sam slowly got on her feet. Whatever miracle had just happened, she would not waste it.
Reactor 1 - [member="HK-36"] and [member="Cabur Aranar"] came in like a wrecking ball. The combined effort and unorthodox actions swept the opposition before them like a tide. While Storm Troopers fell back to protect the Reactor, they left behind the unconscious form of [member="Cole Dagos"].
Reactor 2 - The Force Push from [member="Nima Tann"] was timely- it coincided with Darth Moreth dodging incoming fire from [member="Thoja Arlos"]. While she avoided the blaster bolts aimed at her, the Force Push succeeded in sending her feet out from under her. The burned Sith Lord hit the deck on her injured shoulder, hissing in pain.
The onslaught of the coordinated attack between Nima and [member="Elpsis Elaris"] and the level of intensity from them both caught Moreth in a trap of passions. She tried to rise to her feet, but the pounding in her head and the heat ripping through her veins made her stumble. Eyes wide, but unseeing, her head turning this way and that as each new voice reached her, she tried to gather her own strength, to find some way to fight back. But the combined efforts of so many enemies were too much. Almost.
Darth Moreth surged to her feet with a guttural growl, her eyes literally glowing with the fire rampaging inside of her. Whirling around, she raised her lightsaber, glaring down at the two fire witches, the intended targets of her wrath. She would strike back at them, even if it was the last thing she-
Her mouth made a small 'o' of surprise a heartbeat before @Dax Frye 's lightsaber burst from her chest. He had closed the distance when her attention had been on the others, his strike sure and true. As his saber bit in to her back, he could feel the heat coming off of her body. Slowly, her knees gave out beneath her and she slumped to the ground, her flesh beginning to smolder.
The missile that [member="Arla Balor"] had fired flew true. But to use an explosive to avoid an explosion seldom works out in a way conducive to intent. The overcharged reactor exploded in a brilliant gout of green energy with only a moment's warning. It rocked everything and everyone in the room, sending shrapnel flying at deadly speeds.
Central Control
Because of everything else happening, and the working crew's already frenzied intentions, [member="Jude Falkrowe"] 's firing of the engines went unnoticed for the moment. There was too much working against them, and not enough of them any more to keep every detail under attention.
[member="Matsu Xiangu"] did indeed find fear. Buried deep in Sicarii's mind, deep enough that he had obviously buried it deliberately, was the white, bloodless face of Kith Verloren. There was desire there, not for her but for her power. But overriding that was fear. Fear of death. And not only of death, but of being caught in death like she was- unable to go on, to move forward. Unable to die. Being trapped in an eternal hell of cold and silence. Sicarii was a carefully controlled man- but this was a deep and primal terror.
Even as she rooted through his mind, he fought her on the physical level, but it was harder now with these things bubbling up to the surface. The tense set of his jaw was the only outward manifestation of his difficulty as he blocked low, their face's close. He needed room- needed space to breath. His telekinesis snatched up one of the bodies, flinging it at Matsu from the side.
On one wall, the second of three green lights turned red. The second reactor had failed. And throughout the Omega, red lights began to flash. A heartbeat later, a separate alert, a wailing siren, broke through the din. The ship was nearing too close to Castameer's atmosphere. Even if someone could take control now, between the loss of two reactors and the course change set by Jude, it was inevitable that the Omega would crash.
And there wasn't much time before that happened.
The Heart of Darkness
Turning away from the slumping form of [member="Samka Derith"] , Kith looked up at the green glow of the crystals. Soon, if all went well.
The barest of warnings through the Force brought her attention starkly back to the top platform. She whirled, but a moment too late. She was pushed back by the unexpected burst of wind from @Nomar. Setting her feet, she bore down into the face of it.
It was indeed enough to allow [member="Wolf"] to close with the Sith Lord. But her own sabers came up, igniting as they did. The brilliant red glow bisected the cobalt blue of the second, both sabers forming an X to block. She stared at him through the light, impassive, considering for a bare moment before pushing back against him suddenly, wrenching them apart.
She stood like a dueler of a by-gone era, longer red saber held at guard before her, the blue secondary saber waiting off to the side. Without further parley, she pressed her attack, red saber lashing out in a series of three quick strikes, the blue coming in after the second from the side. She moved with shocking speed, bone white hair flying around her.
The barely lit Heart of Darkness began to flash with a blood red light. On the tail of that, the siren pierced the veil, filling their heads with a pitched wailing meant to draw all attention.
Catastrophic power failure. Too close to the atmosphere of Castameer.
It was over, and Molior knew it in that moment.
"The Omega is failing, child," she whispered to Wolf. "How important is killing me? Important enough to risk your friends' lives?"
THE HANGARS
As the red lights and emergency sirens filled the Omega, a surge of ship's crew moved in a tidal wave toward the Hangars. Like rats fleeing a sinking ship, they would enter the hangars across the ship, taking what they could in order to escape the inevitable fall of the Omega. [member="Karen Roberts"] [member="Symara Tarriq"] [member="Asharad Graush"] would find their locations swarmed in short order.
Vustia stared at [member="Wolf"]. His actions after this moment were his alone and could they possibly be influenced?
She thought to herself, puzzled yet she finally came out with:
"Don't do this, can you not see this is what she wants? Her creation has failed, she wished to bring us down with it. She has no other objective in life now. Stay strong and let's all get out together. The troopers need our help. This isn't the right way. Come with us"
Vustia's speech came to a halt and she didn't know if she would get through to [member="Wolf"] or not.
This could be the last day of Vustia's life and she was focusing on helping others.
Location: Heart of Darkness
[member="Wolf"][member="Samka Derith"][member="Doc"][member="Nomar"][member="Kith Veloren"]
By the time Daxton reached the top, the others already engaged the elder sith in combat. He saw Wolf enchanged blades as Samka collapsed to the ground, with a wordless cry of rage he charged into the fray, sending his blades high and low to cut and maim while she was distracted with Wolf. There was no way she could keep her guard up especially if his attacks were coming from three different directions. He needed to close the gap so he could drain her knowledge, her spirit, her very essence with his variant of Sith death magic. While she could stop stop hearts, his was in essence psychic vampirism, stealing energy, life force and knowledge all at same time.
Should his strike succeed, streams of force energy could crackle and arc towards him as he drains the power from his surroundings, his target would rapidly dehydrate as their essence drained along with their memories.
He had been delving in dark sith magic to develop this method of attack, one he was certain there was no defense against, at least not one he encountered anyway.
A stormtrooper went flying as the droid slammed the door-shield into him with a ding. His comrades were quick to pick him up and return fire, bolts of plasma splashing against the durasteel cover, leaving heated up, slightly melted spots on the metal surface like pox-marks. As Cabur started to pick them off and the presence of the armored droid still loomed over them, they begun to fall back closer to the reactor. That was all the opening the droid needed,
As he stepped over unconscious Cole, he lifted the durasteel door and slammed its edge down into the floor, forcing it to stand between him and the retreating stormtroopers, freeing the droid's hands as he picked Cole up and slung him over his shoulder. HK grabbed the hilt of his lightsaber with a flick of mechanical wrist, pressing the button he would activate it, a blade made of seemingly pure white light would erupt, casting aside the shadow and emanating serene aura of the lightside, his lightsaber, the Sliver of Light, was imbued with the power of the Force to protect the droid in ways his metal body could not. In this circumstance the lightsaber would be a shield to cover HK and Cole as he carried the wounded man back towards Cabur and the corridor from where they came from.
Once they were in the safety of the corridor, away from blaster bolts being fired at them, the droid finally heard the blaring alarm coming from the speakers,
"Oh chit."
He cursed as he looked to Cabur,
"This space-queen is going down, we need to get out of here."
Looking into the reactor room, he called out to Stormtroopers,
"Lads! This spacestation is sinking! Get to escape pods while you still can!"
He then motioned with his head for Cabur to follow him down the corridor,
"Come on, they have done their work, and I do not think they value their masters more than their own lives, no need to waste time and shoot them in the back."
The machine then sent out a message on what used to be Protectorate channels, now probably used by ARGH and Firemane, although those who used to be with Protectorate would receive the message too, [member="Karen Roberts"], [member="Elpsis Elaris"], [member="Charlyra Araano"]
"This is HK-36, we have successfully shut down the reactors, now we need evac out of here, does anyone copy?"
As he, Cabur, and Cole got away from the Reactors, looking for hangar or escape pods. Worst case scenario the droid was going to have to commandeer another shuttle and crash into something else.
Location: Still in a transport ship
Allies: Anyone that wants to help
Enemies: Omega troopers
Objective: Escape Omega
As Undin opened his eyes, he had realized he had fallen asleep, or atleast in some deep meditation, woken up by the lights and sirens. The small boy got up, just in time to see troopers that wore the same armour as the ones in the battlefield. He un-hooked his lightsaber, followed by a small slip, and as he ignited the blade, with a ready to fight stance, and to dodge bullets, he saw they came with no weapons, just trying to escape the fall of the Omega.
They yelled towards the young boy "Please, don't hurt us! We surrender!". He didn't know if he could trust them, but as they were probably just soldiers, looking to gain some credits to feed their families, he let them in. The small transport was empty, apart from him and the two troopers. He knew not their true intentions after saving themselves, but atleast they seemed to know how to control it, as they took off.
Undin stood in a corner, making sure that they weren't trying to capture him after landing, with his lightsaber on.
The Hallways seemed endless still he followed the group of Silver Jedi. He was dreading the coming battle,and only hoped that their foes were preoccupied with the many force signatures he sensed on board both dark side and light side. He had his sabers clenched tightly to his hands as they raced across the halls toward their objective. This Campaign reminded him of the Clone Wars. During the Battle of Ossus he and his master at the time commanded the 350th Attack Battalion on the dead world spending roughly 30 days on the dead world fighting against an entrenched Separatists installation with many gun emplacements. They suffered heavy casualties though they did mange to drive them out,and win the battle. This was different however. As they ran he sensed a few dark presences in the area closing in,and he said to the group. "Should we perhaps split up. It seems there is no end in sight and we are no where near our objective."
"Halifax!" Lavali shouted, "get them on the horn now!"
Symara looked at the downed Acolyte and moved from her seat, "belay that! Halifax get in my chair, I'll get'em myself." She grabbed Charlyra's blade, well one of them anyway and shouted to the pilot. "Get us as close as you can!" The sounds of the dropship and the machine gun fire were deafening but time was out and they had to get their team out of Omega, now.
"Symara, what in Ashira's name are you thinking?!"
She didn't answer right away, "I'm not leavin' them in there alone."
"Do you even know how to use that thing?!" She asked as she slid open the other door and took pot shots using her own rifle.
She shook her head, "nope it's just a scare tactic, a little closer!"
The dropship got as close as it could and Symara narrowed her gaze trying to see through the gaping hole that the Spirit had left behind but she couldn't get a good read on anything. "Where are we on comms?"
"I've got a line to them now," Halifax shouted, "pilot has it open!"
Admittedly, Symara didn't want to use the lightsabre - it was only there for scare tactics. Placing her comm unit on, she spoke. " @Elpsis Elaris , it's Lieutenant Tarriq." The pilot moved to look for a hangar - something, anything up here that looked suitable enough for him to sit just long enough for them to reach. "Master [member="Nima Tann"], I've got the Acolyte's lightsabre - let me know when you're close we'll light up."
Xiarr rolled his eyes at Jakkor's suggestion "Look, where closing in onto two sith lords, and you think splitting up is a good idea? We would be stronger in numbers instead of being divided." As the group ran through the hallways, the center of the Omega could be seen right in front of them. Stormtroopers would be throughout the center, some guarding the main entrance, the others would be patrolling the perimeter. "Well, this isn't going to be very easy, now is it?" Xiarr said in a somewhat sarcastic voice, he had been waiting for this moment, and now he was finally there.
CENTER OF THE OMEGA
[member="Audren Sykes"] [member="Wolf"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Thresh Sken"] [member="Kierel"] [member="Doc"] [member="Vustia"] [member="Kith Verloren"] [member="Nomar"]
-----------------
Tiland still sat there, pushing the thought of the illusions deeper into the minds of the stormtroopers as the rest ascended. He gave the younger Jedi a short nod in response about watching his back. Tiland saw through the Force now, sensing the push and pull of its currents, winding its way through the room, diverting the attacks of the stormtroopers away from the strike team. But then the dark power struck again, stopping another heart.
Hearts and stopping them. That was a strange and oddly specific power. Yes, it was effective, but there were more powerful and more deadly abilities. Any combat medic with a field-kit could undo that in moments. So why use it?
But a ripple echoed through the Force as a piece of catwalk came crashing towards him. He stiffened, holding his hands up to catch it. It broke his concentration and the illusions and telepathy vanished. The real ones were visible now, but they were already at the top by the looks. And still the catwalk came crashing towards him, only to be thrown aside by the still-climbing Audren. Tiland rose and stepped to one side as the hunk of metal crashed into the durasteel floor.
Lights and sirens began to blare through the ship and gravity began to change. They were closer to the planet now. The other teams had succeeded, it seemed. He let out a long breath of relief as some of the tension slipped from his shoulders. They still needed to escape before it was too late. He stood and turned to the door. But could he leave while leaving this Sith behind to potentially threaten the galaxy again?
No, that was not something he could do. That left him one last option, still contemplating the importance of hearts. This Sith's presence was strange- full of the Dark Side, but different than the other Dark Siders. He would meditate on the issue as he climbed up the catwalks. Most of the stormtroopers had already been cleared out, so his ascent was relatively simple.
As simple as it could be, mind you, for an old man. Even as a Jedi and an Anzati, this much climbing was rather brutal. He had to stop a few times, deflecting blaster bolts with the imbued staff before sending a telepathic message to send the solider falling back.
Then he continued, eventually reaching the top platform and the madness that lay at the top. The Dark Side was a hurricane here, with much of it burning like the shadow of a supernova. The woman's was different though. It was still and quiet, almost like a corpse. That brought a frown to his face.
She was a very perplexing opponent. Powerful too, but then a thought struck him so hard he staggered, clutching at his staff. She was already dead. Moving and fighting, but she was dead and Tiland could sense little of the normal biological functions. One could kill something that was already dead. Destroy its physical form, yes, but that wasn't the same as killing it.
Could he restart hearts? That was the biggest question he had at the moment, standing back by the edge. A stopped heart needed some form of compression- preferably electric to resume its normal rhythm. Medics used defibrillators- with massive shock voltages to jump-start them. As did doctors. It would be remarkable convenient to be carrying one around with him, but he didn't. So he would have to use the Force and pressure points. Problem was that pressure points in martial arts styles were about disabling, not restarting body functions.
So it would be the Force. Tiland stepped aside suddenly as another blaster bolt echoed into the room, striking the floor next to him. It was a slight distraction, but it set his mind on another track. There was a possibility of being able to restart hearts if he applied the Force directly to the heart. He'd have to be within arm's reach however, which would never happen with that many lightsabers arcing through the air.
He sent a message to the leader and the wildman- Wolf and Daxton: Reach out in the Force. She seems to be already dead. There may be a way to undo that.
They were busy, so he let the message end there and opened up his satchel, pulling out a handful of several types of leaves. He kneaded them in his palms, rubbing them between his fingers until they had been crushed into fine particles, releasing a strong smell into the air. It smelled crisp and soft, shaded by dusk and highlighted by memories of starry night skies. He blew the dust away from him towards the platform, sending the particles across the platform. It cut through the gathering darkness.
That would help him a little, at least. A dark storm raged here and the Darkness within himself seethed and surged, trying to bubble up to the surface, trying to claws it way to the surface. He could feel it drag claws of power and darkness through his mind, wanting to escape from the prison he had trapped it in. His native nature, a predator that lusted after the rewards of death above all else. And this... was a feast. With this much power to consume, he would be invincible.
The thought chilled him to the core. He would be the next Sith standing in a superweapon to consume the galaxy and use its power for his own. Instead of this dead Sith woman watching plans crumble beneath the will of the Force, it would be him.
Then the vision passed, leaving him feeling empty and cold. It was a horrible thought- a life so separated from the life of the universe, so far from other beings in the galaxy, so far from his beloved gardens. No more feeling the pulse of life through a grassy field, or the strong glow of a flock of birds in flight, or the small yet bright glow of a child entranced by a wildflower. Just cold, empty darkness. He pitied this Sith now- standing so far apart, so... alone.
But there was still a need to act. He slipped his outer robe off his shoulders, revealing the tunic underneath, with wrappings around his hands and arms. He hefted his quarterstaff in both hands, each as gnarled as the wood itself, and held it angles in front of him.
It was time to see what he could do to end this. Tiland opened his mind to the Force, letting it flow through his body, and into the staff. It began to shine with a dim light as he approached the duel, circling along the outside. It was an advantage of the staff, that he could reach further than a lightsaber would. But whether or not it would make a difference was yet to be decided. Then seeing all the lightsabers, Tiland slid his hands closer to his end of the staff, sweeping the other end along the ground, hoping to catch Kith in the ankles and cause her to trip.
