Invasion Bark at the Moon (OS Invasion of Telti)

[Jairus Starvald]

Objective: Assume Control -- Be Nephthys’ Sword.
Location: B2
Allies: [member="Darth Nephthys"]
Enemies: [member="Tacitanya"] | [member="Kaia Vullen"] | [member="Travot Ravenna"] | [member="Catherine Soja"]

The lights shut off and yet… the Sith Lord could see fine. Whereas his companion had her Mirakula heritage to thank for being able to see, Carach had his eyes. In ages past, before her disappearance, Rave Merrill had been the greatest Alchemist the Galaxy had ever seen.

Kusk Chwukkun, Eyes of the Dunaan.

When the lights shut off Carach blinked once and his eyes shifted into the other spectrum, suddenly he saw everything clearly again and what he saw was opportunity. Whilst the other Jedi Padawans had decided to stay back with their indomitable will protecting them from the blunt of his mental assault, a single man had been affected.

Affected plenty.

Carach acted, utilizing the bond between Neph and him to feel out her intent, and it was then that the power of the Force would try and wrap itself around Travot Ravenna.

It would constrict him, hold him in place and make it impossible for him to move away from Neph’s attack.

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

Location: F7
Allies: [member="Kian Karr"] | [member="Dair Cotarin"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]
Enemies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Reverance"] | [member="Athena Heron"]

Even as Ryan turned to engage the downed Sith, a lightsaber whipped through the air, hurled with speed and strength reinforced by both the Force and foul Yuuzhan Vong biots. Korr's gaze snapped to the incoming weapon, but he could only stare at the intricate bone hilt as the curved weapon clashed against his side. Upon contact with the overlapping plates of lamellar armor, constructed from synthmesh, backed by spunplast and threaded through with spun cortosis fiber, the blade shorted out, leaving only a slight, blackened furrow in the plate. Luck or the Force had saved Korr, for with his arms raised to steady himself his armpit was exposed. Only an armor weave underlay would've stood between him and the hateful blade.

Korr recovered from his shock as the deactivated lightsaber fell toward the ground. He seized the rancor hilt with the Force and hurled it at a Vong that drew too near, hitting it in the forehead with a loud thwack and sending the alien sprawling.

The Jedi turned his attention back to the Illusionist, only to discover she was standing and a voice was clawing at his mind. Korr let out a groan and hunched slightly, his off-hand reaching up to clutch the side of his head. The act of resistance caused a hundred thundering drums to beat inside his mind and it took his breath away, leaving him gasping, eyes wide.

The voice slid from ear to ear, sultry. Was that Quinn? His head drooped. Yes, killing himself would be easier. He'd often thought that. The galaxy was so full of madness. Living in it, fighting against it... so futile. He stared into the sky-blue length of his lightsaber. It would be a release, a release from duty and- and.... Vong?
He remembered pain unlike anything he had ever felt before or since. An Embrace of all the hateful spite the galaxy could muster against him. Sheer, unadulterated agony that had nearly broken him. Perhaps it had. The Vong had done it to him. He didn't want to go through that again. Not ever.

Then he imagined Quinn, strapped beneath those writhing vines, screaming as that same hate tore into her.

No.

The drums thundered in his head, beating a steady tune for the thousand lances that were steadily burrowing into his mind, but he managed a glimpse of clarity through that image. He'd seen most of his friends die. He'd watched his home, the Temple on Coruscant, razed to the ground. The Jedi Order was a shadow of what it once was. And, worst of all, it was all part of an insane cycle doomed to repeat itself. He seemed to have little reason to continue living, but he found it in that image.

He could not simply abandon Quinn and others to such horrors.

The refusal became the mortar for the fortress of his mind. He applied it to the stonework fortifications built of and hardened over the years of his existence. Force Sight faded, the world returned to solidity as he employed a different power that taxed his abilities with Sense, Force Resistance. The lances blunted themselves on the buttresses of his mind and the sound of the hundred drums grew deadened. Slowly but surely, he drove the voices out.

The mental war had all transpired with the speed of thought, but the effort of repulsing the sudden assault left him slightly dazed. Vulnerable.

Korr could only buy time to recover.

He tore his off-hand away from clutching at his head and cast it foreword. A brilliant, pure light erupted from his palm, meant to sear the eyes of any who looked on the effects of Force Blind.

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Location: B2
Objective: Stay alive
Allies: [member="Tacitanya"] | [member="Kaia Vullen"] | [member="Catherine Soja"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Nephthys"] | [member="Darth Carach"]

Another blade of light suddenly flew up to smack into his own, making that characteristic sizzling noise even as the room turned pitch black. He quickly withdrew his blade back to his original guard position, keeping the blade perpendicular to the floor, and recoiled away in confusion. His whole world seemed to change yet again. What!? Who's trying to stop me from saving her? Who would do such a thing? His forest green eyes frantically darted around, only to fall upon the shadowy form of [member="Darth Nephthys"], only illuminated by the blades of their lightsabers. Shadows danced around her silhouette, briefly illuminating parts of the amphistaff that coiled around her. He thought he heard its hissing at him, which made him squimish. He briefly glanced down at his feet, almost certain that that had been the creature he had felt slithering around his boots only moments before. But it was gone now. The large man groaned. Another one has gone after her? But why? Why are all of those creatures trying to eat her, and not me?

As if to discredit that thought, his eyes suddenly darted to see a pale hand lunge out at him. His eyes widened. Travot frantically fumbled to dodge its sudden reach, but something seemed to suddenly impede his movement. He let the Force guide his actions, deftly maneuvering his saber's blade, at a forty-five degree angle to the ground, to intercept the spectral-like hand. But he as cowered in the face of that attack, he felt and acted on a precognition before he had fully understood, snapping his head briefly down so that his chin briefly touched his sternum for a brief second before he turned his eyes upward again. He felt a wash of liquid splat upon his crown of his head, and begin to ooze down the right side of his head in droplets.

A voice entered his head, one that he knew, but knew not well. He quickly tried to comply with it, hurriedly shoving a tarnished A99 rebreather in his mouth. But even as he did, something reached out and seemed to grasp hold of him, as if he were being drawn into the murky depths of that accursed peat bog on Troann III. His motions seemed to become more languid, even shifting his weight from foot to foot seemed to take longer than it should of. Perhaps he was sinking somewhere, and that's why the voice had told him to put the rebreather in? More than anything, he was confused, but his eyes still saw Nephthys's glowing saber faintly illuminating her delicate form. Wherever he was, he knew that he would have to get that thing away from the woman if he was to save her from those hideous beasts.

Keeping his blue blade in that Soresu guard position, he flexed the fingers of his left hand at the saber, letting the Force flow through his body to emanate through the darkness and reach out to attempt to knock the weapon away from her body. Travot knew he could do it, he had to be able to do it. One of the few concepts of the many arcane Force powers out there that he had been able to easily grasp had been telekinetics. Yet even as he sent out that focused blast, and despite his extensive training, a creeping doubt persisted in his mind, telling him that it would not work.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCmBWOF1A0g[/youtube]​

​

Location: C4
Objective: Crush 'em
Allies: [member="Vrag"], [member="Khallesh"]
Enemies: [member="Damian Starchaser"], [member="Kana Truden"]

Location: D3
Forces: 300 Blackblade Guardsman
Enemies: The Scenery

The journey was short and uneventful, but as he barreled into the dome's interior he could sense the conflict raging throughout the chamber like a maniac wildfire. Yuuzhan Vong and Republic soldiers waged a gruesome skirmish against one another down below on the main floor of the facility, stray blaster bolts and thud bugs ricocheting off of the metallic surfaces of the nearby machinery, although some were able to hit with certainty and cause a miniature explosion as whatever weapon penetrated the outer hull caused damage to the internal gears and circuitry. The Scepter of Power, being so close to it's brethren down below in the bloodbath, squirmed in anticipation around Vornskr's waist, hungry for flesh and thirsty for blood. The Sith Lord caressed it ever so gently, like one would stroke a house pet, to calm it's quivering form. It would get it's fill of gore soon enough...

And right on cue some malcontent Jedi leaped up from the killing fields to Vornskr's level, ignited his saber and brandished a ion blaster which belched forth several thick globs of ion energy at the black-clad Sith Lord. Using his experience against [member="Jorus Merrill"] on Fondor the Sith Lord merely extended his right hand in a motion faster than the normal eye could perceive, and proceeded to use his knowledge of tutaminis to absorb the oncoming ion bolts into his hand. Because ion was an energy source, he reasoned to believe that it would work exactly the same as if he absorbed a blaster bolt or a stun bolt, which he had done so in the past, although the ion energy coursing through his arm made his skin feel numb, but he shrugged it off as a minor annoyance. The energy would then travel through his torso and then to his left hand, and erupted from his fingertips in the form of sparkling sapphire Sith Lightning that arced through the air, bringing forth the oppressive stench of ozone in an already greasy and oily smelling environment, towards the younger Jedi.

He then followed up his counter with another attack, calling upon the Force to send his lightsaber from his side and into the palm of his outstretched right hand, pressing his thumb against the activation trigger to spring forth the crimson blade hidden within. Then, with a cry of battle and brutality, the Sith Lord lunged at the Padawan with horrific speed and ferocity, his stance being one of Form V, the blade coming in high and fast to cleave in twine whatever dared stand before it.

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Location: Section D-6 ---> C-6 ---> C-7 ---> D-7 ---> E-7
Objective: Chase down [member=Melori Raaf]
Allies: Galactic Republic / Jedi Order
Enemies: The One Sith

Ali's booted feet pounded the pavement as she fled D-6, following the Brat Pack's example to leave. She ordered the YVH-2 droids to lead her toward C-6, from where she'd originally come. It was her best chance at tracking down the Sith woman she'd engaged who'd managed to slip out from beneath the viscous gas cloud the droids had generated around her.
Upon arriving within Section C-6, Ali found nothing, though a fresh blockage at the gate leading to the C-6/C-7 corridor made Ali wonder if the woman hadn't fled through there and attempted to prevent Ali from following her. Fat chance of that, Ali thought, smirking to herself within the privacy of her buy'ce as she climbed the rubble with the droids acting as her far security. The other two followed her over and they continued their trek toward C-7, which unfortunately proved to be similarly empty.
Should I go back? Maybe help those kids? Ali wondered, biting her lip as she thought for a moment about what to do. In the end, something drew her Southward, an inkling of a thought, And Ali felt her feet dragging her forward. She followed them and arrived in Section D-7 minutes later. This Section, like the one before it, was empty, bereft of even civilian activity. I hope they all made it out alright. Ali grimaced and again, the lingering drive in the back of Ali's mind kept her moving, and for whatever reason she hardly questioned it. Am I being influenced? She wondered, but none of the familiar markers were there. The urge to head forward on to E-7 came from her gut, she was acting on a hunch almost. E-Seven it is then, Ali thought resignedly, and pressed onward.

E-7 felt as empty as all the rest, and Ali began questioning her own instincts. Where am I leading myself? She wondered, truly without any idea of why she felt this drive. It was in Section F-7 that Ali found someone. A man of unknown loyalty. But he wasn't the source of Ali's need, and so she stayed out of sight. He hadn't seen her, and there was little chance he'd sense her, if he were indeed Force Sensitive. Ali kept her thoughts quiet and stayed behind cover. The YVH-2 droids made themselves as invisible as they could and followed her lead. It was in the F-7/F-8 corridor that Ali found what had been pulling her along by the nose.

Her.

Ali froze, standing in the large, square ferrocrete doorway that spilled open into Section F-8. There she was, in all her terrible glory, the young and voracious Sitara Qin. A woman that made Ali's skin crawl and her loins burn with lust all at once. The woman who owned her, like a dog. Ali hadn't a clue when she'd be seeing the woman again, and a part of her hadn't wanted to. She wanted Têhra, the young Hapan princess that made her feel whole, the one that needed her.

"You." The words came through the vocoder in Ali's helmet. She knew Tara would recognize her voice immediately, Ali'd only screamed the woman's name half a dozen times in the throes of ecstasy.

/ [member=Sitara Qin] | [member=Darth Parash] \​

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

Location: C6->B6
Objective:

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZlDZPYzfm4

Allies: [member="Kira Talith"] [member="Micah Talith"] [member="Hylocereus"] [member="Kaili Talith"] [member="Aela Talith"] [member="Laura Na'Varro"]
Enemies: [member="Cameron Centurion"]

Every step increased her shame, but she couldn't stop running. There were good and valid reasons to keep running -- keep using her long-honed talent for instinctive navigation -- but none of them felt sufficient. She ran surefooted through heavy rubble and jumbled fixtures, trying to get herself to turn around. Laura was back there, and Hylo, and Micah, and Aela. Kaili, she was fairly sure, was running too. They all, it seemed, had more guts than she did. She told herself that maybe her instincts were leading her this way for a bigger reason than personal survival. Maybe she was supposed to get to Master Talith and warn her that her kids were probably in trouble. But shouldn't Master Talith know?

She broke into a straightaway and accelerated. Behind her, something went boom. She stretched out through the telempathic abilities of her ancestors, amplified with her Force-sensitivity, and found Kira Talith's mind. As best she could while running flat out, she projected a plea for help.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Location: E5
Objective: Defend, as usual
Allies: [member="Steve"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Ferus"]

Location: E5
Forces: 250 Republic Troopers
Opponents: The One Sith
------------------------------------------

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35hpYSZdyz4​

​

Yellow man in Timbuktu,
Color for both me and you
Kung-Fu fighting,
Dancing queen
Tribal spaceman
and all that's in between
Colors of the world
Spice up your life​

​

A small number of Republic troops had brought heavy weapons on the off chance they had to fight something big. Big to them meant any Force using maniac they came along. Lucky for them, that maniac was engaged with the Jedi with them. That was a relief. At least for now. With rocket launchers dispersed amongst the teams, a number of them would lock on to whatever they could on those ships and fire at will. Would they hit? It was hard to tell. They were doing their jobs, and dying trying. Such was war. They knew that this was a critical battle and they would give their all, even as the torpedos rained from above.

The explosions coming from behind shook the ground even closer to where both Krest and Sera were engaging. Tremors all around from the impacts made for an interesting addition to the fray. Turning back to face Krest his blade immediately found its' way to her, though she was drastically more prepared for this fight this time. Both times before she had been a lesser experienced, and more head strong Knight. This time she was centered, focused, and had grown far more than her younger years.

With the blade jabbing and slashing close to her with each thrust she took advantage of the dual weapons and batted one such jab to the side, and as it arched back forward again her other blade came to clash against it, forcing it downwards before the red man was able to retract and come back once more. This time a small grin formed on her face, one he would certainly see as her arm contorted ever so slightly, and her left wrist came smashing down against the golden blade of his. Instantaneously the durasteel around the gauntlet hissed and burned, though once it made its way through would clash against the cortosis. A small surprise of her own for the man that would hopefully discharge his saber for a few moments. A few moments was all she would hopefully need to turn the battle though in her favor. Without hesitation or waiting to see the results of the cortosis on his blade she forced her right hand forward and released a surge of Force energy more powerful than she had been able to produce in the past, one that was more directed and precise than before.

If the Zabrak was knocked back she would find herself re-adjusted, with both sabers presented once more, prepared to re-engage the man. Her eyes circling the surroundings for objects that could be used both to and against her advantage. "It would seem we are destined to do this forever. Fate always manages to force you back."

 

[NPC Units]

Location: E5
Allies: [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Ferus"]
NPC: x8 Droids
Theme: http://youtu.be/Q-GLuydiMe4


Steve was defelcting bolts and sabers when he heard the telltales sound of incoming fire. He looked up and jumped away. There was a momentary sense of grief as he watched droid and trooper and even assassins die in the firey explosions. He could not dwell on that though, he had to aid his master. As the Red man pressed his attack and Sera attempted to rebuttle them, Steve landed behind the Sith and moved in to make his own attack.

Steve launched forward and preformed a disarming slash on the off hand of the Sith. Steve could feel the Force welling in that hand and needed to stop whatever was going to happen from it. Steve's aim was at mid tricep on a vertical upward slash.

This would need to be his role in this fight. He'd need to be a supplement to Sera as she fought, Steve was no match for a Sith Lord but he could help.

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Location: A2
Allies: One Sith / Sith Assassins
Enemies: Pubs
Theme: Kentarch's Main Theme.

The cloaked figure stalked across the interior of the lunar chamber unnoticed for the moment. Having slipped into the facility unnoticed via his Phasma-class Infiltrator, The Sith Lord had intentionally made a late entrance on the field. Jedi and Sith already engaged on both sides, he reached out with The Force itself to get sense for who was where in this battle unfolding around him. This battle in the least bit did not even seem cohesive, there were no battle lines or zones of control. This annoyed Kentarch more than he wanted to admit, as there was no real way to obtain victory via outflanking or double envelopment, no he would simply have to throw himself head first into some fight, the conditions of which he could not control.

The Sith moved down a corridor that connected A2 to A3. Right now his best bet was to stay out of site.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Location: E5 Hanger
Objective: Eliminate Targets
Allies: One Sith
Enemies: Republic ( [member="Steve"] [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"] )​

​

Location: E5 Hanger
Forces: Ten Sith Assassins
Opponents: Republic​

​

No longer did the Zabrak have time for the rest of his men. They would do what was needed. Instead, he focused on the female in front of him. Down came her blades, crashing and pinning his own. She certainly had grown. If she wasn't a Jedi, he would of felt a sense of pride for her accomplishments. But this wasn't the time for this. As her wrist seemed to contort to press against his blade he blinked.​

​

And also acted. His blade was shut off instantly as he slipped back from her, intent on having her stumble from the pressing down. His form would shift to the right, his blade hand, only to find himself caught by the blast. And Steve. His strike went right for his wrist area, and unfortunately right for the Sith Hidden Blade strapped to his wrist. The saber would find itself pressed against a metal immune from its cutting power. ​

​

For once however, the Sith Lord found himself pushed back, sliding away from the pair. His hand went to turn on his golden saber, only to find it dead. He frowned, casting a glance to the hilt. So she had cortosis after all. His eyes would glance between the two, and he would keep to the defensive, just waiting to see their actions. He would keep the force built up around him, he ready to act even without his saber.​

 

[Athena Heron]

[SIZE=10pt]Location: F7[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Objective: Spread some nightmares[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Darth Parash"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Enemies: [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Dair Cotarin"] ([member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Kian Karr"]) [/SIZE]

Thirty-percent strength in her initial attack was enough to keep her chest from being impaled by Dair's plunging lightsaber tip. As he twisted to avoid her strike, she flicked her wrists slightly upward and shuffled to his side as her waist torqued to catch the outside of his blade and tap it just off its course. Sparks flew from the first intimate touch of her blade to his, sending the momentarily hot embers to sizzle against the skin at the nape of her neck.

The brief pain ignited her senses, sending an icy-prickle down her spine. Like nails on a chalk-board, the force demanded her body jerk further to the right. Like a wise acolyte that didn't want to become the next cuckoo-kebab, she obeyed without hesitation.

But it wasn't fast enough.

She felt the hot-iron sting of a blade rake shallowly across the back of her left arm before she stepped out of range. To her credit, she didn't cry out. The stepping movement brought her more or less facing off with them both with a little more than just saber-length distance away.

A flickering-look of perturbation and anticipation crossed her powdered-blue features. But she maintained her mental vice-like grip on the outer-edges of Dair's mind, like a chigger burying deeper into the skin. Instead of blackness, he would suddenly see a short burst of blinding light if the mental attack succeeded. She reached out her invisible tendrils toward Jacen and did the same, using her pain to fuel the darkside.

Eyes narrowed as fear and anger swirled around her semi-avian form. With a concentrated-grimace, she released the beast aimed as a force shove at Dair, hoping to cause him to stumble enough into his friend or perhaps into the heat of their own sizzling blades.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Location: B4
Objective: Beat up [member="Harley"]
Allies: None right this moment
Enemies: [member="Harley"]
Music: Go for the Gold

The pretty little sith must have been worse off than I had thought. She had successfully warded off my attempts to box with her, which was probably the only reason she was still even semi-functional. But in the end she was hurt enough that she called in for back up. Lots of back. We were fairly evenly matched for troops. Mine might have a slight edge seeing as they have had time to take cover and at least semi-fortify their positions, but it was gonna be a blood bath nonetheless. I kind of regretted wasting all my missiles now though seeing her troops advance forward. "Give em hell and fire boys." I called loudly over the comms hearing the roar of "OORAH!" in response as a torrent of blaster fire opened up. I clicked on my ray shields, surging them to full power and took off back for cover. Optimal fire lanes had been set up, but in battle one hundred enemy troops were one hundred enemy troops. I had packaged my boys to work best against vong, not other ranged troopers, but they were still powerful weapons in the group, plus all the disruptors.

I took up my own rifle again finding cover and started firing off shots at the incoming enemy soldiers. I was already wounded, but compared to average grunts I was more than a handful. They had no idea who they were messing with and when i got done with them. I would smack some sense into that little Sith girl. Maybe the Jedi could mend whatever was wrong with her if I took her alive, but that was too far in the future to tell.

Location: B4
Objective: Secure and hold the section of the Factory
Forces: (Blasters, Modification 1:3, Helmets, Armor)

 

[Sitara Qin]

Location: Stopped in Transit. Currently E8 -> E7
Objective: Unknown
Allies: One Sith | @Darth Parash
Enemies: [member="Ali Hadrix"] and the Republic

“You.”

One word. But Sitara knew that voice—her voice— from anywhere. It was the woman she had been looking for, and it was Sitara who was found. She was scared to turn around, scared that it was all just an illusion. After all, the Jedi had their own tricks right.

Sitara clenched her saber lightly, it’s magenta light radiating from its base. Ali had never seen her like this, and when her body turned to meet the striking older woman, Sitara realized that she had never seen Ali in her full prodigious form as well. Clothed in armour, her pretty face shielded by a helmet.

Still, despite the woman’s new bulky apparel, Sitara still remembered her body—the warmth of her—radiating from beneath. A coy smile twitched from the corners of her lips as she approached the woman slowly, yet still kept a steady distance from her. Despite the battles and chaos echoing from all around them, in Ali’s sheltered eyes, she felt peace.

“You.” She echoed, the lightsaber swinging from her hand. She played with its hilt. She could feel her blood pumping, the adrenaline rushing all over her body. Her mind was going to places she enjoyed, memories of herself and the older woman in Ali’s little hideout.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

 

[Kian Karr]

Location: F7
Objective: Hold the line
Allies: Ryan Korr, Dair Cotarin, Jacen Voidstalker
Enemies: @OneSith, Reverance, Matsu Xiangu, Athena Heron


Kian had known better than to think his attack would do any real damage against the seasoned opponent, but still felt a surge of hope when his blade bit into the Vong armor of @Reverance. Suddenly there was a screaming in pain and for a moment, a small part of Kian believed that it was the Sith's armor screaming out in protest as it defended its wearer from the silver blade of the Kel Dor's lightsaber.

But the voice was certainly a human's.....even as guttural as it was. [member="Ryan Korr"] had struck a blow.

However Kian was not able to relish in the sudden turn of events, for he found his attacking being intercepted by the tight, controlled movements of the expert swordsman before him. Kian found his lightsaber pushed out to the right and, in a fluid movement, the Sith's heretical lightsaber come crashing down toward his left shoulder in a smooth transition from defense to attack. It was a similar move to one of Kian's favorite of the Shien maneuvers, fluid riposte.

One of the flaws in the fifth form of lightsaber combat was often a tendency to become flat footed causing a lack of mobility. It wasn't a surprising thing, as powerful strikes required a solid base with which to deliver strong blows, but Kian had learned long ago that if one didn't overcome weaknesses in a form it could be exploited. Kian's footwork, though certainly not on par with a Makashi users, was not as hampered by his style of Shien as some of the more dedicated Djem So practitioners. Dropping his left foot back, Kian turned his body away from the descending blow while swinging his hands and lightsaber across the front of him towards the descending blade.

His lightsaber arrived in time to catch the attack, but the Kel Dor was unable to catch the blade at the angle he had hoped for. Kian felt the burning shot of pain and could smell the scorched flesh as the Sith's lightsaber connected enough with his shoulder to cut through the armorweave cloth and a layer or two of skin. Gaining his more sure footing once more though, Kian pushed the blade aside and attempted something one typically didn't do with a Makashi practitioner.....however the circumstances seemed right and Kian liked to do the unexpected.

As he pushed back against the Sith's lightsaber, Kian jerked his blade down, using the opponents lightsaber as a guide to slash at the opponent's hand in an attempt to unarm his opponent. As he struck at the Sith's weapon hand, he saw, from the corner of his eye, a sudden flash of brilliant light and the room seemed suddenly very illuminated. Behind the Sith Lord, there were soldiers fall amidst the bodies of Vong and droid alike.

Once more Kian found himself on a battlefield surrounded by dying Republic soldiers....and he didn't like it one bit.


Location: F7
Forces: 245 Republic Commandos, 5 EMBU Droids, 7 YVH-2 Droids (-20 Republic Commanods, -2 EMBU, -1 YVH-2)
Opponent: One Sith

 

[Phylis Alince]

[member="Darth Veles"]
Location: A8
Objective: Prove superiority of Jedi muffins.
Allies: Bake paper
Enemies: Evil cookies.

Phylis knew when her attack was avoided that a counter was coming. Thus, with her balance shifting she was already moving back, bringing her blade across to parry the cut.
This time though Veles was prepared, his blade resisted her and they locked. Phylis had no sooner locked when he moved forward and struck her with a hard punch to the side.

Owie.

Stepping back and disengaging, she gingerly touched her side. It was bruised, but nothing broken.

Still, it did offer her an opportunity. She had noted the powerful punch was partly due to cybernetics, and noted that he had others too.

Wincing, finding it hard to take full breath, she extended one hand. Calling on the Force she unleashed a blast of electrical energy designed to short out and disable the implants the Sith Lord possessed. She rather hoped that would give her the edge necessary to overcome his greater physical strength.

 

[Damian Starchaser]

Location: C4
Objective: KAINE!
Allies [member="Kana Truden"]
Enemies [member="Darth Vornskr"] (you’re mine!) [member="Vrag"] [member="Khallesh"]

Spoiler

Location: C4
Forces: Less than 100 dudes now...
Enemies: Like 400 Vong and 300 Blackblade Guardsmen on their way….

Oh crap. What has Damian gotten himself into. He watched the hand shoot up with preternatural speed completely absorbing his ion bolt and watched as the man shot lightning at him. Instinct took over and he quickly stopped all his motion throwing up his arms to put up a force barrier. The first thing he’d learned after meditation and the proper way to breath was how to throw up a force barrier.

Lightning crackled around him in a form that defied all pattern. It wasn’t enough. Although he had mastered the technique and was able to put the barrier up instinctively he couldn’t match the raw power emanating from a Sith Lord. The shield cracked and shattered, specks of power which once sheltered him becoming as grains of sand collapsing to the ground. Lightning raked his body and only a timely roll away prevented him from being stuck in the web of iridescent light. Damian's body felt cold and his hands were sweating as he heard the blood curdling roar of the Sith Lord.

There was no time for him to wallow in the defeat of his barrier as an angry sith was set about slicing him in twain. Kana’s teaching of Makashi went through his mind in an instant, the moves practiced coming to him naturally as he ignited his saber and ignored the wails of Kaine.

The youth could not match power for power, but nor could he run. He didn’t retreat, he didn’t sidestep, instead he went straight in. With his saber in his right hand he charged into the man his feet separated one in front of the other at a slight angle with his knees bent to provide for stability. His right arm wielding his saber corkscrewed up and to the right combining the motions of a block and a strike, the angle designed to deflect and redirect the energy of the sith’s blow.


It worked, after a fashion, and the strike was indeed blocked, however Damian had only committed a single hand to the block and the strength behind the siths saber had enough force to force him roll forward and to the side past Vornskr in order to avoid a grisly fate. The advantage was however that he had a free hand in which to fire point blank his little ion pistol into the Sith as he recovered from his tumble.

He turned quickly to face his opponent and struck up a defensive pose once more.

 

[Ali Hadrix]

Location: Stopped in Transit. Currently E8 -> E7
Objective: Unknown
Allies: One Sith | @Darth Parash
Enemies: [member="Ali Hadrix"] and the Republic

“You.”

One word. But Sitara knew that voice—her voice— from anywhere. It was the woman she had been looking for, and it was Sitara who was found. She was scared to turn around, scared that it was all just an illusion. After all, the Jedi had their own tricks right.

Sitara clenched her saber lightly, it’s magenta light radiating from its base. Ali had never seen her like this, and when her body turned to meet the striking older woman, Sitara realized that she had never seen Ali in her full prodigious form as well. Clothed in armour, her pretty face shielded by a helmet.

Still, despite the woman’s new bulky apparel, Sitara still remembered her body—the warmth of her—radiating from beneath. A coy smile twitched from the corners of her lips as she approached the woman slowly, yet still kept a steady distance from her. Despite the battles and chaos echoing from all around them, in Ali’s sheltered eyes, she felt peace.

“You.” She echoed, the lightsaber swinging from her hand. She played with its hilt. She could feel her blood pumping, the adrenaline rushing all over her body. Her mind was going to places she enjoyed, memories of herself and the older woman in Ali’s little hideout.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Location: Section E-7
Objective: I don't know...
Allies: Galactic Republic / Jedi Order
Enemies: [member=Sitara Qin] | The One Sith

Ali felt terror grip her heart and for a brief moment, her breath caught in her lungs, producing a slight rasp through her helmet's vocoder. Tara was garbed in the cloths of a Jedi, or any typical Force User, Ali couldn't be bothered to tell the differences between the two ideologies at the moment. The young woman's lightsaber glowed a brilliant magenta-limned white and bobbed slightly up and down with the subtle movements of her body. She hadn't felt so nervous fighting the Sith woman in Section D-6, Ali and her droids had outnumbered the Sith easily enough, and her fighting style had given Ali the impression of relative youth and inexperience. Tara, however, Ali knew little about; they'd never fought before. What she did know was the girl held some sort of perverted, Force-supported influence over her. It was an influence that put Ali's integrity and security at risk, particularly now that she knew where Tara's loyalties resided.
Ali raised her rifle as Tara stepped forward, halting the woman with the gesture. "Don't kriffing move, or I'll kill you." Ali said, with naught but conviction in her tone. She was a spy, first and foremost, and Ali's commitment to her soldierhood was paramount. Even Sitara's Force-augmented manipulation would likely struggle against the years of experience Ali was riding upon at that very moment.
With an eye flicker Ali sent two of the droids forward; they kept their distance from Sitara, though they tracked her as they moved into a cordon position, surrounding the youthful Sith. Ali adjusted the grip on her rifle's trigger, suddenly realising how nervous she felt. What will she do to me? Ali wondered in a childishly frantic manner, a part of her wishing she would just kill the woman now and never find out just how much worse things could become for her. She'll take this defiance and punish me for it, Ali thought, biting on her lip nervously. It was a nasty habit she'd adopted from her youthful Hapan charge, Têhra Syle'a, though she was not nearly as terrible about it as the wispy girl.
"Deactivate the saber, and toss it here." Ali demanded, keeping her weapon trained on the other woman. She struggled dismally to quench the desire and nostalgia that threatened to overwhelm her senses; Ali's memory of her last night with Tara had been both a nightmare and a dream come true. That part of who I am is not in charge, Ali told herself, her teeth clenched, all the while dwelling on how much she wanted her lips on Tara's naked flesh. In the meantime, the other woman hadn't moved, and the simple fact that Tara been revealed to be a Sith made Ali realise she wasn't to be trusted. I was culling her as an intelligence asset, and it looks like she was playing me the whole time... Ali hated herself, she felt like a failure. You don't know that. This could be a coincidence of galactic proportions. Perhaps she didn't even know until today. Ali grimaced, and though she knew that was a perfectly valid possibility, she didn't want to exonerate herself just yet.
For several long, silent moments Ali stared down the barrel of her rifle at Tara, her eyes taking in every subtle curve, every fold of cloth, missing nothing. Her jaw was clenched so hard her teeth hurt, and Ali had to remind herself to relax. The emotional control Ali was feeling was growing stronger, and the urge to lower her rifle and deactivate her droid escorts was alarming her. Pulling the trigger on the woman who owned her would be an impossible task, and no matter how much Ali squeezed her trigger finger, it wouldn't budge. Let me kill you, Ali begged, realising how she was already back in the submissive position beneath the other woman. True control is what Ali used to know, until she'd met Tara and had been stripped of her domineering persona. Tara owned that part of her now, and owned the rest of her as well; her mind as well as her body. Her lips, her breasts, her cleft, her thighs, her words, wisdom, wanton...all Tara's.
A moment later Ali felt her trigger finger relax, and she lowered the weapon. The stronger side of her, that is to say the weak side of her, had won.

And in that moment of resignation Ali manage to draw up her rifle and fire.

/[member=Sitara Qin]\ ​

/[member=Darth Parash]\​

 

[Des Kovak]

Spoiler

Location: E1, monitoring station Radar 04

Spoiler

Objective: Don't panic die
Allies: [member="Svarin Noimare"]
Enemies: [member="Sage Bane"], [member="Shuduc Macar"], [member=Cylus Jest]

Location: E1, monitoring Radar station 04
Forces: 10 5 technicians, 1 monitoring supervisor, armed with a blaster pistol
Opponents: MurderSith

Theme: (warning, some inappropriate lyrics)
https://youtu.be/JSUIQgEVDM4
The killer awoke before dawn, he put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall

Every moment Des stared on, down on his knees, was filled with pain bordering on agony. The image of Cylus Jest was vague, standing before him like some sort of blurred phantom out of a holo-drama. Instinctively, Des knew something even worse was coming, and it filled him with apprehension. At least the dull throbbing of his wrist had subsided. A small part of him wanted to give up, to simply lay down and die. But the rest of him, the defiant, headstrong knucklehead that was Des Kovak, forced him onward. This is not over, he told himself. This is not the end. It cannot be. Through the blur of pain, he was vaguely aware of the Sith breaking off, joining the other Sith in a fight against his would-be rescuer, his Fellow Jedi, and in the back his mind he knew she would be outclassed as well. The situation was getting more and more desperate.

Through the mist and the fire in his mind, he felt his shoulders being grasped, Des felt his body being dragged. Blearily, he forced himself to look up to see the tech supervisor, Ibram Haas, struggling to drag him to safety. "H...Haassssss..." Des mumbled, struggling to find words. "Shh. Be quiet, or it'll be both our asses," the Mirialan hissed. "Here." Des got something thrust into his hand. Automatically, his fingers knew how to grasp it. It was small, cylindrical gleaming silver. My weapon against the darkness, He felt. "Haas," Des tried again. "Get... Out..." "I'd love to, Jedi, but the door is kinda full of nerf-faces with lightsabers. Now be quiet," Haas was clearly nervous as he propped Des behind a communications terminal. A thought occurred to Des, creeping up between the mist of his mind. How did he do that? Why did Jest not stop him? It was a puzzle, but Des was in no state of mind to ponder it as a dull throbbing pain scythed through his thoughts again. What was worse was that the feeling of impending doom that had nestled in the back of his mind was growing more and more immediate...

 

[Vrag]

Location: C4
Objective: Kick other parts of the Jedi because the butt has suffered enough
Allies: [member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Khallesh"]
Enemies: [member="Kana Truden"] | [member="Damian Starchaser"]​

​

​

Spoiler: NPC

Location: C4
Forces: 260 Yuuzhan Vong in the room, 20 in the corridors
Enemies: Damian's Random dudes™​

​

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPaz0p2dpEk​

Success.

Now, Vrag wasn't exactly the gloating type of villain, and evil cackles were something completely alien to her repertoire, but she certainly understood the impulse to do so in that moment. Watching her opponent struggle to retain her equilibrium after being hit by a piece of garbage — mm, the delicious symbolism — brought out unprecedented urges to laugh out loud.

Would she do Vornskr proud?

See, at this point, the Hand of the Dark Lord would usually easily bisect the makeshift projectile hurling at her face, but the writer was too busy coming up with ways to incorporate 'trash talk' into the post in a funny way, and the Sith became a casualty of her one-track mind. Unfortunate.

Vrag gnashed her teeth as she cracked her neck, looking back at the blonde a few paces away. It was all fun and games until you started throwing junk at each other. Call her a hypocrite — because let's face it, she was one — but the firrerreo wasn't quite as appreciative of having the garbage-tossing favor returned.

"Playing dirty, are we?"

Her yell was supposed to draw the Jedi's attention, if only for a moment, but enough that the Sith would traverse whatever distance remained between the two. All she needed was the wide measure, and the reach of her one-handed Form would take care of the rest. She mounted an attack that would intimidate many, a series of quick slashes, all convincing enough to elicit a proper response from the enemy.

Applying a similar technique to what she'd done back on Iridonia with the Order's Grandmaster, Vrag tried to force her opponent into the defensive role, coaxing her into a retreat towards the gaping hole in the wall where all refuse goes to die. She was too focused on her onslaught to be able to gauge the distance properly, but it didn't look all that far away anymore.

And once they entered the darkness, her foe was as good as dead.

 

[Darth Veles]

Location: A8
Objective: it hurts
Allies: Could use a crutch
Enemies: [member="Phylis Alince"]

The saberlock broke with the Jedi Master stepping back after being successfully hit by the Sith Lord’s flippered hand, one with phrik skelet instead of bone. The Jedi’s expression showed multiple signs of pain as Avreet impassively watched and took a step forward for her step back to keep with the offensive he had found himself on, realizing he should not grant the woman the chance to fight back. Still, he gave her several gracious seconds to recover from the blow, at least long enough to find her breath and overcome the pain taking residence in her ribs. It was so unfortunate it had come to this, this necessity to beat a woman.

Shaking his head and flicking his blade downwards towards the floor, Avreet’s stance showed he was more than ready to go for another attack, only his honour preventing him from launching himself at the woman. This ‘honour above reason’ foolishness soon cost him his cybernetics – perhaps even the entire duel and life; but Avreet would rather die for his principles than live by tossing them out of window. Actually, he had died for them once, but that is a different story.

When her hand moved up, clearly indicating she wanted to use the Force, so did Avreet’s. He was just a second late on her, and too late he realized the Force attack was not of telekinetic nature as he had expected and wanted to counter with a push of his own. Instead of being tossed back, Avreet found himself receiving the hated energy of Ionize, a power he was very familiar with. As a user himself, he could easily imagine the effects; the cybernetic hand suddenly grew completely unresponsive to his commands, though it could still be flapped around very well to deliver some nasty slaps. In this aspect, the amphibian could not complain.

Avreet’s cybernetic eye had not met the same fortune though, and the Jedi would be able to see the fake pigmentation disappearing from the orb, clearly revealing Avreet’s right eye to be bionic. Blinking as half of his world suddenly went black, the Mon Cal staggered backwards when sharp, piercing pain hit his head, strong enough to cripple the Sith. His left hand brought the blade up as the amphibious assassin frantically slashed and stabbed in front of himself to keep the Jedi away in this moment of weakness, prevent her from finishing him off with a lightsaber. The elegant and swift paces of the Makashi user became an uncoordinated mess and the only thing stopping him from falling down was a wall his back hit with a heavy thud, bringing an end to the stumble.

Silent moans of pain left his mouth between the Mon Cal’s gasps for air as it was his turn now to struggle for breath, feeling his heart beating irregularly. He wanted to curse himself for being so foolish, curse the Jedi as well, but the pain in his head and mind prevented him from doing any of it. With no ability to muster up enough focus and call upon the Dark Side to utilize this tremendous pain as a weapon, all he could do was to lean against the wall and keep the tip of his blade pointed at the Jedi. The need to recover was high in a combat situation, leaving him with hope all cybernetic enhancements would start working again soon. At least the pain started to subside, albeit slowly.

Time was of essence though and the Jedi had undoubtedly recovered already, prompting the Sith to regain his unsure footing, replace it with Makashi's typical firm and sure footwork before unsticking himself from the wall.

“Ah, lady Alince,” he teased with a pained smile, “You could have killed me!”

Stating that piece of information, Veles realized he could be sensed in the Force. The shock and pain must have broken the Sith's focus enough for him to drop Force stealth, even though it had become a passive and constant ability of his in the past years. As a result, the Jedi Master would be offered a lucky glimpse of the Sith Lord’s signature; surprisingly light – for a Sith. It wallowed somewhere in the middle of the imaginary scale, between light and darkness, but before the woman could study it more, it vanished again with Avreet’s regained ability to control the power he had mastered. Other than that, the Sith Lord remained passive; standing by the wall with his weapon raised, not daring to attack yet.