Skirmish Broken Jewel | Bryn'adul v. Silver Jedi Concord

[Kiara Ayres]

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The more they faced the Bryn'adul in battle, the more familiar with their enemies they became. However, the familiarity did not equate to ease. While they could understand their enemies better and learn of their weaknesses as time progressed, they were still immensely powerful beings who many humanoid species struggled to contend with, even the Force users among them. In time, they would gradually become more habituated with the genocidal zealots. They hoped to become better at predicting their next move and of creating weapons to nullify their strengths. Each battle was a struggle and they were still only acquainting themselves with their enemy who kept adapting to become stronger, more unpredictable.

The battle she currently faced was new territory. While she had been witness to the clashes of her allies against the Bryn'adul, she had gotten injured due to negligence from allies who were supposed to have been protecting her. She had been swiftly taken out of the battle and almost lost her life to the Bryn'adul before truly facing them in battle so while an experienced Jedi and fighter, this was her first engagement of such a nature. She had fought many a Sith throughout her career but none of it prepared her for the sheer brutality of what she faced now. Each individual was a titan but with the Jedi, their strength lay in their cohesiveness in numbers.

The familiar sound of blade on blade spiked her already heightening adrenaline. It was a familiar sound but you could never be too self-assured in your achievements. With every clash of blades came the risk of death but she knew that if she died fulfilling her duty to not just the Jedi but the galaxy then her death would be righteous.

Having focused on the Force during her training and beyond, rather than duelling, she had never become adept enough to warrant regularly using two lightsabers. While skilled and capable in both single and duel-wielding, her focus had always been on the Force and now, in such close-range combat, it seemed she had done herself a disservice.

It was the nature of battles for everything to happen far too quickly and sometimes you had to rely on your instincts.

Upon seeing the glow of the second blade, while her focus was on their locked blades, she immediately released a hand from her hilt and with an open palm towards her opponent, used Force push to push herself backwards. She skidded to a halt on the floor, with one hand on the ground to steady herself, but she wasted no time in continuing with the offensive attack and now with a shorter distance to cover, she sprinted towards him, prepared to meet his blade or evade.

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Sakadi Marathi Sinvala Varn Barakis Osam Thova 'Mdanam Sethrak

 

[Thova 'Mdanam]

Thova had heard of the Force, through his own people to a degree, but primarily from Warlocks within the Bryn'adul such as Sethrak and those nearest him. From what Thova understood from the First Warlock, the Force was some great presence that was unseen, unfelt, but could still be touched. A cosmic ocean that flowed through and connected all living things, but could not be fully explained or explored. It was a mystery that was only partially understood, but held limitless possibilities.

To Thova, a born and raised soldier, it sounded like mad ranting.

He could not deny that the Force existed, there were too many records and organizations dedicated to it across the galaxy for that possibility to be true. He had tried to rationalize it in his mind, to make it a problem to be solved or schematic to understand. No mater what angle he tried to use, the answer still eluded the Shipmaster, and that more than anything infuriated him. If the Bryn'adul were not already at war against the Jedi, Thova would have attacked them himself, just to remove the paradox their existence represented. You could not quantify the Force, could not draw it onto a battle map, or kill it with a blade, and yet it was an enemy as prevalent as any Thova had faced.

So when the Jedi used it against him directly, he was thrown off balance. He had suspected it had been used to bring the wall down on him, but to actually feel the unseen presence used against him...The confusion he felt quickly shifted as Thova slid across the alley, his foot digging in to the ground. The armored heel dug into the rocky pavement, sending up debris and dust as the Shipmaster came to a halt. The glowing red eyes of his helmet raised slowly until they locked on the Jedi that was even now charging him. For the first time in his military career, Thova felt a new emotion.

He was angry.

He roared, leaping forward to meet the Jedi's charge head on. He brought on side of his blade down in arching slice, which would be followed up by a secondary stab, launched by a reverse grip he held on the blade. In the same action, Thova struck out with his left fist, intent to cut off the various avenues of maneuverability his opponent faced, and wanting with no small amount of relish the chance to land a physical blow against the Jedi. He would do whatever it took to defeat his foe.

Kiara Ayres

 

[Kiara Ayres]

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While their enemies' combat prowess was great, the Jedi held little respect for their seemingly savage adversaries, not only because of their disdain for other sentient beings but because it didn't require much tactical skill to win a battle through brute force. However, while the current duel was unexpected, Kiara would not retain a morsel of respect for her opponent, not even for the discipline of fighting. Had she been duelling a Sith then she might have even saved them a small amount of begrudging respect but not here, not now.

Her opponent, and all like him, had proven himself to be a fearsome warrior. The Jedi Master was skilled in the art of controlling her fear and so remained stoic throughout the duel despite the intimidating Vaydralen. Her real emotional weakness lay in her empathy. While she was level-headed and generally didn't act recklessly in the name of empathy, she would do all she could reasonably do to protect people who couldn't protect themselves.

With origins lying in an important working-class family of whom none were gifted with Force sensitivity, Kiara did not merely believe she was being righteous in the actions she took to protect people from the effects of war, she believed it was her duty, not just as a Jedi but as someone gifted with the Force. She had been as normal as any other person until her Force sensitivity was discovered and she could never help but wonder why her? She had never been certain of any religion but if the universe had willed that she be Force sensitive then it was her duty to use her gifts to make a positive impact on the galaxy. Now, the people of Nal Hutta needed her. No matter their creed or criminality, they were people all the same.

The Jedi Master brought her blade up to meet her opponent's, matching the speed of his blows - she needed to if she were to defend against them. In combat alone, he was a worthy adversary, but it earned him no respect. Through the Force, she could feel the raw anger driving his actions while she remained clear-headed and grounded.

She moved the blade quickly to meet his second strike and attempted to swipe it away while leaning far back and to one side to avoid the tip of the blade and the punch towards her, barely. While she was able to anticipate actions and events before they happened, the speed at which they fought made such precognition difficult. However, victory in the duel was not of the upmost importance. So long as she provided a distraction for more people to escape then she was already winning.

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Sakadi Marathi Sinvala Varn Barakis Osam Thova 'Mdanam Sethrak

 

[Varn Barakis]

Tags: Osam Thova 'Mdanam Sethrak Sakadi Marathi Sinvala and the Best Grandmaster there is, Kiara Ayres
Gear: Lightsaber, Silver Jedi Knight Plate

The challenge made, Varn could only dig his feet in and wait for the response. When it came, it was furtive. At first, anyway. The Flesh Vessel -the strange living armor that had thwarted his attempts in the tower on Nar Kreeta- shivered slightly. The distinctions between the wearer's actions and the Vessel's were small at best, damn near nonexistent at worst. Here, now, the Jedi was reminded of that fact.

A crumbling tower flashed across his mind's eye. The phantom burn of straining muscles made Varn tense. For a moment, he could picture the first fight he'd had with the warlord as if he had taken a step back in time. The clash of blades, the stench of toxic air, the heat of his blade cutting the air as Osam evaded. The Bryn' warrior had been fast that day. Strong, too. His own strength and speed had been complemented by that of the Vessel's and it had shone through the pain and rage the warlord had endured as clear as day.

Flourishing his blade, the Jedi let the warlord make the first move. Patient, blind to the chaos around him, the knight grew still, somber. He had been looking forward to this moment, truth be told. Now it was here, he found that the thrill was only halfhearted. Last time they'd fought, Varn had been able to gauge his opponent well. But that was a two-way street, and no doubt the Bryn' had been able to draw similar conclusions somewhere along the way.

That complicated things a bit. Varn would just have to improvise.

Walking forward, the Jedi did another flourish with his blade, the screech of twisting metal loud in his ears. Blasterfire, explosions, the occasional shout and muffled scream. Noise. Just noise. He blocked it out as his opponent picked up the pace. Unwilling to let Osam set the tempo, the Jedi broke into a jog, too. His boots kicked up dirt as he moved, his cloak dancing around his figure with each step. Reaching out with the Force, Varn swept his arm to the side. A landspeeder parked by the side of the road groaned in complaint as it was wrenched into his path. Another gesture sent it spinning up onto it's end. The Push came a moment later.

Twisting through the air, Varn followed in it's wake. The warlord's bulk was lost for a heartbeat behind the landspeeder. The Jedi didn't lose sight though. Not true sight. Running around the landspeeder as it span on it's nose, Varn came up on his opponent's left side. His blade shimmered as he went for the warlord's wrist.

 

[Thova 'Mdanam]

Thova did not relent in his assault. The Vaydralen way of war called for constant offensive action in all that they did, and Thova followed this with all his being. Every strike he sent at the Jedi, while fueled by his anger, was calculated. Each blow was delivered to allow the next strike to easily follow, creating an endless stream of ever changing attacks. He did not stop, he did not hesitate, he simply fought because it was what he needed to do. But while he fought with an almost disconnected automation, his mind was working.

Despite her initial aggressive approach to their duel, the Jedi Thova faced had adopted a more defensive tactic. This realization began to cool Thova's temper as the duel continued, and his eyes narrowed slightly beneath his helmet. Several possibilities presented themselves for why she would fight like this. The most likely was that she had hoped to end the fight quickly, relying on her Force enhanced abilities and prowess to defeat Thova before he could regroup and retaliate. The second option, less likely than the first, was that it was an attempt at attritional combat. The Jedi could potentially be forcing Thova to engage her head on by initially launching attacks, then reverting to defense to force him to over extend himself. The final possibility, though the most uncertain in Thova's mind, seemed to have some weight to it.

The Jedi was stalling.

This thought had barely crossed Thova's mind when the sound of approaching footsteps could be heard. Small indicators appearing in his helmet informed Thova the approaching individuals were Vaydralen even before their voices echoed down the alley. "Cease your attack, Jedi! Cease or they die!" Thova parried one last blow from the Jedi before he stepped backwards, out of her range, and brought his blade up before him. The twin blades illuminated the alley around Thova as he stared down the Jedi. At the head of the alleyway, five Vaydralen warriors stood, knives held to the throats of several civilians. Tears streaked down their faces, their eyes pleading as the Vaydralen warriors slowly moved forward, they eyes filled with fury.

Thova grunted in annoyance upon seeing the sight. To kill civilians was one thing, a grim necessity of war. But this tactic...it was not the Vaydralen way. His warriors were likely following the orders of another Bryn'adul officer, or the standing orders of the Warlord and First Warlock. Turning to stare at the Jedi, Thova slowly lowered Vor'kar Tanel, holding it to his side. "Surrender, Jedi. There is no dishonor in this should you do so."

Kiara Ayres

 

[Kiara Ayres]

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The Jedi Master would begin to move backwards with their battle, attempting to keep attention on her while drawing her attacker away from the fleeing civilians under the guise of falling back. Every second she engaged with the warrior gave someone another second to escape from his clutches. While it was not as grand a gesture as could be, for some people it could be the difference between life or death.

Gifted with an innate ability to sense the emotions of others, it took little concentration to feel the waning anger from her opponent which was a cause for concern. If he wasn't angry then he could focus and with focus came clarity which added another dimension of difficulty to adversaries. No less could he be coming to terms with the strategy of distraction that she had been employing.

Kiara heard the gruff voices address her but kept her eye on her opponent until they had disengaged in their duel and had taken a few steps back to remove each other from melee range. Her gaze then moved to the source of the voice and her eyes widened in horror at the scene she was greeted with. She immediately deactivated her lightsaber up on such a sight, careful not to provoke her enemies further now they were in a much more precarious position.

The call to surrender was unusual to hear and so she was hesitant to respond. While she would lay down her life for civilians in a heartbeat, there was no telling how truthful their enemies had been in their promise that surrender would result in the safety of those surrendering. However, there was no time to examine the truthfulness of the Bryn'adul's claims or their honour of war so she would be forced to take the safest route and leave her fate in the hands of her enemies.

As a Jedi, and indeed one of the more public faces of the Order, she could not justify continuing to fight after such an overt threat on the lives of civilians as a result of her insurrection. If she was to pay for her actions then so be it but no one else held any responsibility but her and she would do all she could do ensure it remained that way.

"Don't hurt them." She told them the conditions of her surrender before tossing the weapon aside and holding her hands up both to show they were empty and as a formal sign of surrender. Even if they killed her now and she had saved those people through her sacrifice then her role was fulfilled.

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Sakadi Marathi Sinvala Varn Barakis Osam Thova 'Mdanam Sethrak

 

[Osam]

Varn Barakis

There was an uncanny sort of stillness surrounding the personage of the Jedi for the first few moments of the Warlord's charge. Perhaps the Knight was preparing themselves through some meditative incantation, or maybe they were simply assessing the scenario so that they would best be able to strike against the Flesh. Osam could not determine exactly why they had remained so idle, but he did not make the mistake of equating their lack of locomotion with a lack of will - defiantly they tested their blade, the flourish sizzling through the air and crackling with the intensity of harnessed plasma.

In the past, the Knight had reeked of bravado. Where was his warrior's vigor now when the challenge had already been accepted? Had he truly expected that Osam would let fear and terror at the sight of the wretched sword drive him away? Did he even know what kind of agony he had suffered from such tools of destruction?

The Worm-Mind bristled ever so slightly as it too analyzed the movements of the Knight with curiosity.

Finally, perhaps stirred by proximity or by the tempestuous sounds of destruction wreaked through the city - Sethrak had begun a campaign of utter destruction that could be rivaled only by the Titan in its intensity - the horned Jedi began his approach, slow at first, the walk of a dainty child. Another moment passed, and another dozen steps closer, the Jedi began his own jog, refusing to allow himself to be charged solely by the Warlord. That was acceptable, though the hybrid, reminding himself that he possessed a ranged advantage if it was ever necessary in the form of the Pulverizer.

As champions of their respective sides, the two warriors approached, the twist of metal unseen and unheard by the hybrid until it was nearly too late. The speeder launched out at rapid speed, twisting over itself as it went vertical and blocked both the charge of the Warlord and his line of sight to his target. When one possessed the ability to manipulate reality with a thought, such aspects of creativity were utterly frightening. The implication that he could have simply smashed the vehicle into the Warlord was acknowledged too... what terrors were the Jedi truly capable of if they wished it.

The speeder continued to twist, and instinctively the hybrid made for its side, attempting to dodge out of its trajectory as it prepared to fall. He ran directly into the ambush of his foe, the plasma blade lancing downward rapidly and slamming against the wrist of the Flesh Vessel with a sizzle of cooked hide. The hide retaliated reflexively at the assault, lunging the Warlord's hand outward, the one still clenching the chunk of metal, and aiming to dispel the attack of his foe.

Whatever the result, the Warlord swiftly regained control of the rebellious meat, driving his own attacks with more conscientious effort, driving his kukri toward his opponent, aiming for his core as opposed to the Knight's tactic of targeting the extremities. He did not even bother to evade or parry blows unless they seemed to be coming toward his abdomen and the Quilxyn weak-point stationed there... better to focus purely on the aggressive and the fierce.

With claw and blade, Osam began a rigorous assault.

 

[Sakadi Marathi Sinvala]

THE BAD PART OF TOWN

Several slugs slammed into the durasteel plate behind her as the Jedi Master's white blade cleaved upward through the heavy rifle, and thrusting deep between the Draelvasier's mandibles. The warrior stopped moving shortly after, and fell over.

"Oi! Jedi!" The voice came from the direction of the previously fired slugs. "Some of me boys been havin' a bad time two blocks from 'ere." A Weequay with a tattoo of a Twi'lek woman on his upper arm stepped from behind his cover, jogging toward the Jedi Master. Sakadi glanced toward the main street, making sure that no Bryn'adûl would suddenly jump into their small alley, before deactivating her lightsaber. "Garson's boys 'ave been tryin' to get ol' Bessy inta the fight." The Jedi Master raised a white eyebrow. "Old Bessy?" From his expression, she could tell that the telepathy startled him a bit. "Wow…" He shook his head. "Ehhh yeah, ol' Bessy. SeemS like we could use 'er." Sakadi thought for a moment. "Point me in the right direction. I'll see what I can do for you." a wide grin formed on the Weequay's wrinkly face. "Aight, fin' us when she's awake. Good luck ta you, Jedi" They both turned, running into opposite directions. Alright. The Jedi master thought. Who or what is this 'Bessy?'

Sakadi darted through the streets, evading projectiles, detonators and collapsing building as she went. She had to keep her eyes open, as every corner she turned required her to duck under or jump over a new obstacle. Some even required the activation and cutting power of her weapon. But as she moved through the city's outskirts, it became abundantly clear to her that there was no chance they could win. Likewise, however, it did not seem as if the Bryn'adûl were gaining much ground. If anything, they suffered heavy losses over ever ten meters gained. And that was a good thing. If the battle over the outskirts could stay in a stalemate position like this, the Bryn'adûl would not be able to leave the city's center. It meant the children and elderly in the surrounding swamps would be safe, and that Knight Barakis and Master Ayres could focus solely on what happened in the city's center. If only she could keep it that way.

The Jedi Master's pace slowed as she approached one of the larger clay-covered buildings. Its ceiling had collapsed under the orbital bombardment, but the walls were still largely intact. It was, however, surrounded by Draelvasier. She assumed that the few Trandoshans and Weequay who fired at them were "Garson's boys".

"Well, gentlemen… Need some help?" The fiery white blade ignited. Whatever 'Bessy' was, she would have it join the battle sooner than later.

Varn Barakis | Kiara Ayres | Thova 'Mdanam | Sethrak | Osam​

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[Varn Barakis]

Osam

The blade connected, set the flesh armor to sizzling. Most conventional armors would have succumbed to the heated plasma, Varn knew, but like on Nar Kreeta, this set proved different. Launching himself backwards, Varn narrowly avoided the warlord's wild swing. Grit kicked up by the sheer impetus of the attack flecked the Zabrak's skin, forced him to wipe his eyes clear with the back of his hand. A minor distraction, it didn't prevent him from evading the follow-up.

The kukri cut through the space he'd just been in, came around again to strike at his chest. Varn parried as best he could, each blow averted feeling like it came from three opponents at once. In truth, it was only two. Or one. The specifics of the Flesh Vessel and its abilities eluded him. For now.

Leaning away from an attack that nearly took his throat out, Varn was quick to close the gap before the Warlord could pull his arm back. A two-handed thrust to the belly, then, the upper abdomen, followed by a slash to the left arm again. Varn couldn't tell if it was conscious on his part. It just happened. He didn't know whether the strikes connected, he was only aware of the way his body and blade moved in what one of his old teachers had called the battle-rhythm.

Killing blows, wounding blows. Neither. Just probes. The seconds to come would reveal their true nature, Varn knew. Whatever would be would be. If the kukri found him first, it was just bad luck. Or fate, if you believed in the concept. The knight did. His wife and daughter did, too. He wondered what it had in store for them all.

Hopefully, he would never get an answer.

 

[Sethrak]

Tag: Sakadi Marathi Sinvala
Inventory: 1x Val-Shae Spear [X], 1x Barad Kukri [X], Theron Armor [X], 1x Hidden Blade in his Left Gauntlet.

Sethrak continued his assault, having dealt with the hound. Apparently it wasn't the only one of its' kind. Several Bryn had fallen to the beasts before finally finishing them off. Now they were advancing at a rapid pace, but one building was holding some forces back. Apparently some militia were entrenched inside, even after the orbital strikes had destroyed part of the building.

Sethrak was closing in on the building to clear it. He was surprised anyone was inside still as his forces had been bombarding it heavily, even before it was hit from above. He wondered if there was something that he hadn't been told about keeping his forces back. A weapon, perhaps, or maybe a talented warrior was holding them at bay.....

 

[Thova 'Mdanam]

When the Jedi tossed her weapon aside, Thova was quick yo deactivate his own. His foe had surrendered to him, he would not disgrace himself by wielding his weapon still in her presence. Clipping Vor'kar Tanel to his hip, Thova walked the short distance between himself and the Jedi's discarded weapon, picking it up. Almost in a complete reversal from his earlier actions, his movements were restrained, almost reverent. He held the weapon delicately in his hand, turning back to face the Jedi.

By Vaydralen law, a prisoner of war was to be treated with honor, unless they proved themselves dishonorable. By surrendering herself for the lives of the civilians, the Jedi had given Thova a glimmer of hope that their kind could be redeemed. Walking across the alley to her, Thova stared down at the Jedi for several moments, considering his next action carefully. Finally, he extended his hand out, the lightsaber still gripped in it. "You have fought well, and surrendered with honor. This is yours, warrior." He dropped the lightsaber, expecting her to catch it. He stood within easy striking distance of the Jedi, and he felt a moment of apprehension run through him. She could very well end his life, though the civilians still held behind Thova would hopefully deter her.

"Should you remain in honor, Jedi, I shall ensure that your Clan is not harmed further. If it is in my power, I will make it so."

Kiara Ayres

 

[Osam]

Varn Barakis

The Knight was more agile than the Warlord could ever hope to be, even with the aid of the Flesh Vessel. There was something unnatural about the seeming precognition granted to his dodges, the hint of foreknowledge tainting each movement. How could he possibly hope to annihilate a foe who could so easily evade his blows, one after another, each one sliding through the air or striking limply against the lightsaber with a hiss of steaming oil and violent energy.

Just as quickly as the Jedi had managed to evade, he stole the initiative of their conflict, pressing the attack with a jab of his lightsaber, once toward the hybrid's stomach, and then again just further up his body, pressing the ignited blade into the Quilxyn there, bursting it with dramatic force as the wretched and imprisoned creature whined and spluttered, dying in an instant. The rain of blows fell swiftly, each one passing dangerously close to the opening created by the probing stabs or else lashing uselessly against the Flesh.

Still - the marks created upon the armor were evidence enough that eventually even it could fail. Lightsabers were incredibly hot... if the blade were held against the hide for a significant amount of time, it would doubtless burn through even the mighty skin suit.

Osam needed to react viciously, to reclaim whatever initiative he could before the Knight settled on a consistent attack strategy and made for the opening in his armor. With a downward stab of his blade, the hybrid coaxed the Kraemonen Hivemind into motion, enhancing the speed of the blow, and intensifying its force further by slamming his other hand down onto the end of the Kukri's hilt, intending to impale his enemy at about centermass - he might have been able to dodge away... but with so much weight, Osam doubted he would manage a successful parry without serious manuevering.

Whatever the reaction, the hybrid would follow up by swiftly hurtling the chunk of metal he had stolen earlier toward the Knight, intent on striking him across the soft portions of his face with the hunk of steel. Osam wasn't sure if it would be sufficient to kill him... but a broken nose would certainly help him to maintain the fight.

 

[Kiara Ayres]

​

Kiara's gaze followed her opponent's movements, watching as he seemingly confiscated his weapon as she would expect. When he approached her, she didn't raise her head to meet his gaze at first, instead maintaining her current eye-level as she felt little respect for the other and was unsure if he was going to attack her or kill her.

However, when he offered the lightsaber hilt in her direction, she looked up at him and then back at the weapon before hesitantly accepting it. She was unfamiliar with the customs of the Bryn'adul but she had never heard of anyone experiencing what she currently was. Now in unchartered territory, she moved slowly to fix the weapon back at her waist, careful not to make any sudden movements, but she wasn't about to offer thanks.

Though she showed no confusion in her expression, she had a thousand questions racing around her head.

"I understand." She replied plainly.

The situation was out of her control and all that was left to do was hope that the Bryn'adul held a morsel of honour to not resort to trickery as a means of making gains. Even as a Jedi, she would have difficulty in predicting the next move. Seeing as whatever fate she held was already sealed, should she not attempt to fight again, she offered a simple question, though whether she received a response or not was another matter.

"What do you want with these people?" She asked. At its front, it was beginning to look like a hostage situation but then what for? Or perhaps there was another, more sinister purpose.

Sakadi Marathi Sinvala Varn Barakis Osam Thova 'Mdanam Sethrak

 

[Varn Barakis]

Tags: Osam

The flesh recoiled and shifted beneath the blade. White-hot plasma cut bright lines across it, and Varn could sense the pain. Something howled and died. Important or not, Varn kept going, willing himself to move faster, strike harder. His battle precognition was a well-honed weapon, and it helped him make his mark upon the warlord; mind and flesh, body and soul. All were targets. Destroy one, and the rest would follow.

As the Quilxyn died, Varn felt a moment's guilt. It struck him out of the blue, distracted him for all of a half-second.

The warlord or his flesh armor -or maybe both- were quick in finding the gap in his defense. It was gone as soon as it appeared. Even so, when Osam slammed his blade forward, the Knight was slow to parry. No- not parry. Twisting, his muscles burning from the effort, Varn tried to avoid the oncoming blade. The rush of air brought with it the knowledge that he was too late to change what was to come. Something sharp lanced against his side, sent his nerves into flux.

Pain flared in his mind as the kukri cut through the armor protecting Varn's abdomen. Something broke -a rib, two?- and suddenly it became hard to breath, hard to think. Blood, fresh and warm splashed his legs, the dirt at his feet. It took Varn a moment to realize it was his blood. A part of his brain denied the truth laid before his eyes. Another accepted it for what it was.

He'd been cut. He'd actually been-

An alarm bell went off in his mind. The Force or something similar enough as not to matter screamed at him to move. So move he did. The air as it parted around him was enough to reveal that he'd just dodged a bullet, literal or otherwise. The blur that was the warlord's arm began to take form as it passed within a couple inches of his face. The ball of twisted steel came next. Then, the face and body the arm belonged to. Before long, there was a fully fledged being stood before him. And it was one of rage and contempt.

Yet, Varn sensed fear, too. And he was pretty sure it wasn't his.

Summoning all the strength he could, the Jedi stepped in close to drive the hilt of his saber into the warlord's chest, near what he perceived to be the solar plexus. He felt the impact jar up his arm hard enough to make his teeth chatter. Pain knifed through his side as he did, and it was enough to make him take a step back. For a moment he tottered on the edge of collapse. The concern that he was slipping pushed to the forefront of his mind. It darkened the edges of his vision, cut his breaths short. With the last of his energy, Varn lashed out with the Force.

All he had went into the gesture, the Throw. When his injured leg -the one he'd had since his first years as a Knight- finally buckled, Varn fell with the knowledge that he'd done all he could. Fate would decide whether it was enough. Or wasn't.

 

[Sakadi Marathi Sinvala]

THE BAD PART OF TOWN

Her question was met with bewilderment first, until some turned their heads toward the Jedi Master. A wave of relief and hope washed over them, as well as some level of understanding as to where the 'voice' came from. "The building Miss, we gotta get in." An Ithorian with a blaster pistol was kind enough to answer. Although that much she already knew. "To fetch Bessy, am I right? But if you don't mind me asking, what or who is this 'Bessy'?" she didn't know if Ithorian's could grin. But it definitely seemed like he was doing it. "You'll know when you see her." She always liked giving cryptic answers. Receiving them, however, was far less enjoyable. "Fine. Leave three of your friends with me. We'll buy some time." It was all she could really offer them. But perhaps it would be more than enough. The Ithorian nodded, grateful for the offer. He shouted multiple orders in Huttese and a dozen of the thugs began to pull away from their cover, retreating into the building. As promised, only three stayed behind. A Trandoshan and two Klatoonians.

"Alright." She raised her lightsaber and with it, her guard. "We will stand our ground, no matter what comes out of those alleys." To reach the 'fortified' building, their assailants had to cross a paved street, approximately nine meters in width. Their cover was decent, as was their view of the alleys on the opposite side of the street. The terrain was slightly in their favour and it made her confidence grow. Perhaps they could really do this. Perhaps, they could really hold back the Bryn'adûl.

Sethrak​

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[Thova 'Mdanam]

Thova nodded as Kiara Ayres clipped her lightsaber back to her waist, turning his head to look back at his warriors. With a small gesture of his hand, the warriors let go of the civilians, before shoving them back towards the still growing gathering of similar prisoners. A few cast glances back at the Jedi as they went, but the bulky forms of the Vaydralen warriors soon blocked their lines of sight. Turning back to the Jedi, the Shipmaster gestured for her to follow him, though there was no implication of choice in the gesture. She was a prisoner now, and while she was still armed, she was under lock and key as strong as any cell in the galaxy.

"The purpose of this assault is not known to me. The Bryn'adul gave the Vaydralen instructions, and we did our part. I know only of my part in this operation, which was to ensure the fleet arrived above this world intact." The more Thova spoke in galactic basic, the more accustomed he was becoming to the strange language. The Vaydralen people had three hundred distinct languages on their homeworld, each one as different from the next as any two space faring languages. Thova was quickly gaining a grasp on this rather simplistic tongue, though he continued to speak with a heavy accent.

"The civilians of this world have been chosen to take part in the Great Effort, though they may not have chosen it willingly. It is an honor few outside the Bryn'adul allied races get to experience."

Kiara Ayres

 

[Kiara Ayres]

​

The Jedi Master followed Vaydralen as she was told to but the feeling of being demeaned did not escape her. To be a Jedi, a protector of people, defender of the galaxy, and to be reduced to nothing more than someone who could be ordered about was humiliating. The implications of her surrender were dangerous. Now the Bryn'adul knew that some of the Concord willing to surrender to spare lives then the information could be abused, should they maintain their honour and keep their word, that was. The Concord would be prepared for the eventuality should the situation arise again - she would be sure of it.

Kiara attempted to employ a tone of understanding in response to her captor. The Concord had never been given the opportunity to interact with their enemies as they did now so it was to be a historic moment. "You're acting out of loyalty. I understand." She replied, showing a small amount of empathy.

"The Great Effort?" She repeated, puzzled. "Do you know what that is?" She asked, remaining calm despite being at the hands of her enemy. The Jedi had excellent command over her fear and displayed no such emotion in the face of the adversity she was experiencing.

Sakadi Marathi Sinvala Varn Barakis Osam Thova 'Mdanam Sethrak

 

[Thova 'Mdanam]

Thova nodded his head slightly at the Jedi's words, his arms moving slightly at his side as the two walked through the Vaydralen and Bryn'adul camp. Several transports were being brought down to the surface of Nal Hutta, and crowds of prisoners were being loaded onboard. A few were resisting, but the presence of Vaydralen and Draelvasier warriors ensured that no one was truly able to put up any determined resistance. A growing pile of bodies of the cities defenders near the camp itself was all the evidence they needed to not fight back too hard.

"Our loyalty to the Bryn'adul is not without its rewards. They found our people in the midst of a violent civil war. They elevated us, saved us, and gave us purpose. Where once we stood as but iron clad warriors on our homeworld, we now find ourselves the masters of space travel." Coming to a halt before a command tent, Thova turned to look at the Jedi with a small bit of confusion at her questions. He had never stopped to really consider what outside species and enemies of the Bryn'adul thought of the Great Effort. It took him a few moments to formulate his response before finally addressing her.

"The Great Effort is our reason for being. The races of the galaxy are weak, flawed, and a threat to everything we are. Only when the weak have been eliminated, and the strong are all that remain, can the Bryn'adul Covenant truly thrive. We fight for the Great Effort, for it is our only chance against a galaxy that would destroy us if given a chance."

Kiara Ayres

 

[Kiara Ayres]

​

Her mind raced, not with fear but with all the questions the galaxy had been dying to know about the Bryn'adul, their purpose and intents. She remained casual and cool in her responses, seeming mildly interested rather than like she was interrogating. From the perspective of the rest of the galaxy, any information about them would be valuable for their future endeavours, but from her own perspective she was intrigued to learn more about the secluded group out of personal interest. She wondered what could lead a being to seek genocide.

The Jedi caught glimpse of some of the fallen and quickly averted her gaze. It was a painful reminder of who she was talking to. She hadn't needed to see the consequces of rebellion to know that any resistance would be swiftly vanquished. She had abandoned all hope of fighting back at her surrender. She knew not what lay ahead for her now but she at least hoped she could relay any important information onto nearby Jedi who may have managed to escape before whatever happened to her happened.

"I see. They saved you." She replied with a thoughtful nod, showing active listening.

She halted once her captor did and looked up, seeking to meet his gaze, with a placid expression. His following words surprised her, though there was no change in her expression. "But... the other races of the galaxy aren't weak. We're strong together." She paused for a moment, seeing the opportunity to attempt to sow some seeds of discord. "The galaxy are only fighting against you because you attacked us. We are acting in defence. Now the Bryn'adul are the threat to the galaxy." She replied, testing the limits for how much she was allowed to converse with him, though she kept her voice low to avoid being overheard by others.

Thova 'Mdanam

 

[Osam]

The spill of blood was invigorating to the warrior. To feel a gash upon one's own flesh was enough to instill adrenaline, to stir a person into motion and emotion alike, but to see the crimson leak out from an opponent, to know that they had been bested even for a micro-second was a great pleasure to the hybrid. He called to mind the way that he had gutted countless dozens with a similar Kukri, the way that they had fallen from exceptional exsanguination, the way that they had tasted in his maw when they had finally grown too still to fight him off.

All of the strength that he had sapped from his meals now made itself known in the blows he lashed out against the Jedi, in the slicing of the Kukri, of the force behind it all. The Knight was a being capable of preternatural ability, certainly, but the Flesh too had been derived from something of less than natural circumstance, in spite of its living qualities. He could meet the threat of the Jedi for once without having to rely on his firearms or upon his cunning - it was an exceptional sensation... to finally put to rest such a vile antagonist.

Of course, that didn't meant that the fight would suddenly become easier - at least not instantly. Given enough time, the loss of blood and the surge of pain from the agonizing blow might've been enough to dull the talents of the Knight, but their battle was not destined to go on for such a long period of time.

He felt the grip of an invisible hand as it roughly clasped onto him - about his hips, and his torso, his arms, and legs, and even his neck - and an instant later he felt the sudden flow of incredible force as he was hurtled backward by the Force, chucked away like a venomous snake, with all of the capacity that the Knight possessed. There seemed very little aiming in the attack, but the sheer ferocity of it was enough to toss him an incredible distance, directly through a building and out the other end, into an inferno of fire and smoke.

He was completely out of sight of the Knight now... and the inhalation of smoke made him curse and gag. Osam forced himself to his knees, regaining balance with a stumble as he found his feet anew, stumbling out of the inferno without a great deal of harm - but with remarkable disorientation and nausea from the spontaneous flight. He might've vomited were it not for the nursing care of the Kraemonen, the worm didn't its best to keep him stable.

"Thova. Sethrak. It's time for us to go. We have enough. Begin evacuation." He finally spoke, sending the command out to his two fellow leaders before following up with a general command to "Take what you have, and re-board the shuttles." to the remainder of his forces. Gradually, the Draelvasier and their Allies began to make their way back to the shuttles, each one hauling along men, women, and children wherever possible - and striking down dissidents who resisted with bloodthirsty fierceness.

"When we're in the air... have the Pharos Infernal turn the city to slag. We don't want anyone to have a home to come back to when we leave - you may leave any other gifts that you wish as well, Thova."