Breaking the Slate

[Slate Estrada]

Rendili.


A planet that used to house the Galatic Republic's greatest warships. Now it had been lost to the One Sith. A terrible setback for every member, particularly the Navy. For any sort of chances of obtaining naval supremacy the Republic would need to take control of this planet once again. That was therefore why Slate was present on the planet. Him and the Archangel's mission was to find any sort of information concerning the One Sith's defences of the planet through any means necessary.


The arrival on the planet was hasty, it was entirely possible that someone noticed the drop pods they had arrived in and was searching for them. Luckily, each member has survived the drop and had split off into seperate location and we're currently waiting for a regroup. It was unlikely anybody has followed Slate to his current location inside an abandoned and seemingly empty apartment complex. With another 4 hours until their scheduled regroup, Slate was alone and vulnerable.


A hand never left his SABR-1 and his finger never slipped from the trigger. He continued to scan the surrounding complexes for any movement. He could only hope that no situation arose in which he would have to use his weapon.


[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FOBeubfr-xY​

Vrag never thought herself to be particularly monstrous — though monsters rarely do — but she found enjoyment in visiting the ravaged planets nonetheless. In reality, Rendili didn't even have much to complain about; due to its strategically important shipyards, the One Sith had done little more than ruffle its hairs and flex their muscles. If a few defenders were killed in the process... well, somebody should've told them that trying to stop the Sith when they wanted something was a bad idea.

As she walked the streets, her eyes subconsciously sought out those little reminders of their less then friendly visit; scorch marks poorly hidden by new paint, holes from bullets that were overlooked, splatters of red that weren't entirely innocent. A smile curled her lips at the sight, but she was forced to tear it away in the end. She was here for business, not for pleasure.

The Order did not look kindly on those who would try and disrupt their operations, especially on a world as lucrative as this, and had sent their best clean-up division to take care of whoever was foolish enough to come here. The Core. Their Core. How satisfying a ring that phrase had to it.

Upon her arrival on Rendili, the woman had split up her complement and had them contact the local Sith forces to optimize their coverage and bolster their efficiency, keeping only a few Elites for herself. She'd opted to forgo Vong this time, however strong they were, for their warriors had heard neither of stealth nor of patience.

"Search the landing sites and track the enemy. Capture if possible, otherwise kill," with that, the Hand signed off and turned her attention to the last drop-pod, the one she'd chosen to pursue herself. Who said you couldn't work and play?

Using the data feeds from CCTV and guard reports, the AR in her helmet didn't have much difficulty constructing a projected path, and once the red lines appeared in her vision, the Sith set off to deal with the last intruder.


[member="Slate Estrada"]

 

[Slate Estrada]

The wide windows and fallen walls proved to be helpful for Slate who continuously checked the landscape around him. As if paranoid that someone or something was following the soldier, dressed entirely in black, never dare to let his guard down. This mission was too important to allow error. Ascending the tower did not aid Slate's paranoia. Each step causing a girder to creak or a plank of wood to fall the three stories he had climbed. The further to the top he got, the better view he got for observation but the cover became sparse and he was once again vulnerable.

Footsteps.

Footsteps are what woke Slate from his focus on the terrain below. The noise definitely belonged to somone but whoever the owner was remained unknown.

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

Breathe in, breathe out; the one thing that would always set the pace of her walk. With her new armor, the woman was much faster even without the aid of the Force, and soon she left the bulk of her complement behind. There was a scent of a man in the air, something oddly familiar to the Sith, and it only served to spurn her on.

The HUD in her helmet helped her track her quarry as she rounded another corner, coming up to a destitute building — probably still abandoned because of the Rupture — and her digitalized reality flickered to reflect the new data garnered. Her quadriceps flexed as she rammed her legs to full extension, calling the Force into her limbs to enhance her already formidable strength, and then the woman was in the air, the howl of rushing wind muffled by her equipment.

No sooner than she'd launched off the ground, the Knight landed on a nearby roof, the brunt of the landing absorbed into momentum as the woman rolled over her right shoulder. She emerged running, tracking the ever-growing red trail in her vision as she absorbed details of her surroundings, building a clearer picture with each lull between the inhale and the exhale.

Ah, pacing; the difference between life and death for every duelist worth their salt. She was not one for words, but shooting at the man in the position he was in would mean his certain death. The permacrete of the roofs was not a very forgiving surface to fall upon, and the Knight would very much like to discover the purpose of this excursion, however foolish it was.

"Would you like to come down?" she called out to the soldier climbing the side of a communications tower, his black clothes a rather ineffective type of camouflage in broad daylight. One might even go so far as to say they were counterproductive.


[member="Slate Estrada"]

 

[Slate Estrada]

Kark. Somebody had seen him and by the site of the armour clad person they weren't friendly. After finishing his climb to the 4th floor, Slate got a good look at his seeker. The person was alone and standing on a nearby rooftop. Squeezing the trigger of his SABR-1, Slate released 2 bursts of the 7.62mm ammunition the weapon took. Thanks to his extensive military training, the 6 rounds would nearly exactly where his onlooker was standing.

Without another thought he took off into a sprint. Inside the building there wasn't many places he could hide and continuing upwards would make him even more vulnerable to any attacks. The only option was to descend. With incredible speed, most likely caused by the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he wrapped a rope around a solid metal post and secured it to his harness. He had always hated absailing but this could prove to be his only way of a quick escape. Floor-by-floor he made his rapid descent to the ground and maybe, just maybe he had tricked whoever was following him that he was still atop of the building. This would give him a vital few seconds for him to make an escape.

After a short sprint from the complex he found himself in some type of courtyard; abandoned, like the surrounding structures. It didn't look like he would be able to go far without whoever was following him knowing. He would have to stay and fight. And when he won, he would go back to hiding.

[member="Vrag"]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What Happened: Slate moved from the building to a courtyard and challenges Vrag to a duel.

 

[Vrag]

The person, actually, wasn't just standing there idly waiting to be taken out; she'd been running towards the intruder the entire time, and as the man above her twisted around to take aim, the Knight broke her sprint with a forward roll, banking on her Force-imbued reflexes to keep her safe. The attacker was a good shot, however, and two bullets grazed her across the back-plate just as she keeled over to roll over her shoulder.

The Vonduun wasn't a particularly vocal creature, but Vrag could swear she'd heard a small wail come from behind her when the slugs had glanced off of its chitin. No matter; she had more immediate concerns at the moment, and she could look it over once the enemy lay dead or incapacitated at her feet.

When her prey disappeared into the building the Sith finally skidded to a stop, however, unwilling to climb after him in her considerably heavier armor. Besides, it wasn't like she'd have to; if he took shelter in the upper stories, she'd simply take the stairs. If not, she would seek him out on the ground and destroy him until there was not a shred of fighting spirit left inside of him.

She turned on the IR in her helmet to check where her quarry had decided to flee, and her lips curled back into a cruel smile as she tracked the orange silhouette in descent. Very well.

As soon as it became apparent where the man was heading, Vrag took off running again, boots pounding roof after roof as she followed him, the distance between them rapidly becoming shorter as she utilized he Force again, until she finally found herself directly above her enemy, her heart pounding in her chest. Not even wholesale slaughter could compare to the delight of the hunt, the thrum of her blood in her ears as she fell into the thrill of pursuit.

And then the sight of the courtyard opened before her eyes, and she grinned as her left foot found the edge of the last roof, jumping off with a powerful thrust of her legs. She would vault into the air, propelled by Force speed as she attempted to land on the man that came running out of the corridor below, slamming him into the permacrete. If she missed her intended target, the Sith would instead move into a roll over her left shoulder, igniting her lightsaber when she rose to her feet.

[member="Slate Estrada"]

 

[Slate Estrada]

As turned to fire at his opponent, his eye managed to catch a glimpse of something flying towards him. Without a second to spare he jumped from the area of impact and landed roughly on his his side. If the hit had landed Slate could've been finished. Unfortunately, his evasion did not stop his opponent for long as they quickly regained their balance. That's when it happened. The one thing Slate didn't want to happen. A lightsaber lit.

A Sith.

Slate could've handled any regular soldier, but a force user... This would be interesting. Whoever they were, they greater speed, protection and close combat firepower. But Slate had range. Even though he was unable to make any real distance between them, as long as he could stay away from that saber he would have the advantage. Standing up, Slate aimed his rifle and fired another two bursts. This time he was much closer and the likelihood of a hit was greatly increased. After his firing off his rounds, the soldier began to back up, speaking to his opponent, taunting them. "You got a name, or is the gravestone going to be left blank?"

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

Either her quarry had exceptional instincts, or he'd seen her shadow fall over him mid-air; whatever it was that alerted the man to her fast-approaching presence, it didn't matter. He'd avoided her aerial slam, and the woman came up from her roll with a grimace on her masked face, brandishing her ignited lightsaber in her sword hand.

A different sort of Sith would've already given in to their anger, were they in her place, but Vrag was a pragmatist first and a Sith second; ire came when she wanted it to, not the other way around. Her motions were that of a practiced duelist, her reflexes that of a natural born killer. She bared her sharp teeth — too sharp for a human — behind the skull on her face as he scrambled to his feet with rifle in hand, thoughts flashing through her mind.

He leveled his weapon at the Knight, but the woman was a rather fervent user of Force speed with no intention to stand around while he took aim. A few bullets dug into the chitinous plating covering her body, but most of those that hit simply glanced off, deformed beyond recognition after their brief meeting with Vonduun crab.

The owner of the armor herself wasted no more time beating around the bush, pushing against the permacrete below them in an effort to close what short expanse remained between the two of them. In close quarters, the enemy combatant would be helpless against the gentle touch of her lightsaber and the sharp pincers of the Vong creature shielding her body. The Sith ignored his taunt as she rushed him, propelled by the Force and strength augmentation of her suit, hoping to tackle her opponent to the ground; considering how quickly she was moving compared to him, such an outcome wouldn't be very surprising.

[member="Slate Estrada"]

 

[Slate Estrada]

This time Slate wasn't fast enough. The tackle had the stopping power of a bullet. Winded and struggling to grasp enough oxygen to stay conscious, the soldier clicked a switch on his SABR-1; switching the firing mode to fully automatic. The gentle click of a strap being undone could be heard over his moans, he had released his harness that held three X-60 "Happy Boomer" Rockets. "Shouldve brought the bloody launcher..." He cursed to himself, clambering to his feat.

Without a doubt that his opponent was already upon him, he made what effort he could to fire off half of what remained in his rifles mag to the direction of his foe. With their armour and superior strength he doubted it would do much, but hopefully he had managed to damaged some of the armour.

[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

Maybe her opponent was a super-soldier — they still made those, right? — because the speed with which he started to scamper back to his feet after being rammed by no less than two hundred pounds of Force-propelled chitin and muscle was quite… astounding, to say the least.

Not that that she would let him stand up without a fight, mind you. The armor-clad Sith had the advantage of being on top, and she certainly wasn't going to let it slip through her fingers. With a quick rotation of her wrist, the woman pointed her red beam downwards and made to stab through his weapon and the hand holding it, pinning it to the permacrete beneath them as she went to pummel his face with the aid of the Vonduun and her left fist.

She registered, on the edge of her adrenaline-fueled perception, that a few rounds had found their way between the legs of the crab, but that's what the underlying armorweave was for. Oh, she'd be bruised, no doubt, but whatever damage she incurred by the impact of slug against her flesh through a layer of padding would soon heal anyway.


[member="Slate Estrada"]

 

[Slate Estrada]

It would be an understatement to say that Slate was not prepared for what would happen next. The Sith's expertise timing and fast hands came into play once again as she decommissioned his SABR-1 with a thrust of her lightsaber through the bulk of the weapon. Only by looking down did Slate realise the weapon was not all that was hit. Half of his hand had also been burnt away by the all consuming plasma. But he had no time to moan for the loss of his hand as an armoured fist hit his face with the force of a train. No doubt shattering multiple bones in his face. Blood spouted from all pores and inflammation began to block his vision.

Again he was on the ground; at the feet of his opponent. Using his legs, which hadn't been injured yet, he tried to crawl away. He would not get far in his current situation and it was unlikely the Sith would show pity. Realising this, he turned round to face his opponent once again. "Is that all you got?" He said, his words slurred and almost impossible to understand. With his left hand, concealed under his black coat, he pulled his M837 Blaster Sidearm from its holster. He would not use it yet. He would wait for the right time.

[member="Vrag"]

The Siderarm: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/30824-m837-riposte-blaster-sidearm/

 

[Vrag]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=226&v=WQxjgT2g8xk​

She could feel the creatures upon her body shift in excitement and delight as she broke open the vessels on his face, staining the tan skin a light red. Arterial blood. Her armored knuckles left deep gashes in the flesh, glaring white of the bone underneath peeking through the wounds she'd inflicted upon him. The sight, coupled with his pitiful efforts to crawl away, had her lips curling back into a ravenous leer as she moved to pin his arms with her knees.

With his rifle and right hand out of commission, the Sith withdrew her saber, pulling the blade back until it hovered perhaps an inch above his straining neck. Vrag wasn't a great sadist — at least not during a fight — and some might say that she was even merciful in the way she delivered death in battle. She rarely prolonged someone's demise with the intention of seeing them suffer, and whatever enjoyment she found in the agony of others was overruled by her preference for pragmatism and efficiency.

"Yes," a curt reply, and likely the last syllable the man would hear in his life. A blessing? A curse? She would let the Galaxy decide, for she didn't believe in either. The one thing she could say that existed for certain, however, was causality, and that singular law would take care of the rest as the muscles of her arm flexed, sending the lightsaber into motion. The red beam would slash downwards, traversing that short space between the taut lines of his sternocleidomastoidei and where the blade had hovered before; his end would be swift and painless.


[member="Slate Estrada"]

 

[Slate Estrada]

This was it. The end. A saber at his neck, his hand gone and only a blaster left to use. It seemed like he would only have one more shot at an attack. This last effort would have to happen immediately. As the Sith began her next move two blaster shots could be heard. However, they were not aimed at anybody, but I instead the X-60 Rockets that were left on the ground from Slate moments ago. When the shots kinected, the two were engulfed in a ball of fire. The intense heat burnt the flesh and muscle from Slate's body. He now lay lifeless on the cold hard ground, a soft moan was released from his charred black lips.

This was it. This was the hour. His final hour.


[member="Vrag"]

 

[Vrag]

Just as her blade burned into his neck she could feel it go off, and then something hot — too hot — swept forth to engulf their intertwined bodies in a wreath of fire. She was knocked forth by the blast, catching herself with a hand against the permacrete as to not be thrown off of the man completely.

She was clad in heat-resistant armor, but Force knows that her opponent wasn't, and it certainly showed upon his scorched flesh. Instead of taking the quick, painless death she'd offered him, the man had chosen to go in the most agonizing way possible; in fire.

She let out a long, ragged breath through her teeth as she loomed above him, conflicted between leaving him to die a dragged out death right where he lay, broken and charred beyond recognition, or showing him the respect a warrior deserved. Vrag looked down on him, blue eyes cold and unfeeling as she pressed the extinguished emitter against his heart, her head cocked slightly to the side.

Without much deliberation, the woman pressed the switch and ignited the blade right through his chest, disintegrating the fluttering heart muscle in the blink of an eye. [member="Slate Estrada"] was no more.

Γρηγορεῖτε οὖν, ὅτι οὐκ οἴδατε τὴν ἡμέραν οὐδὲ τὴν ὥραν.​