Scourge of Gold
(( This thread is a late continuation of Avernus and Lyra's duel at the climax of the New-Imperial invasion of Bastion. ))
All hits called with consent due to the predetermined nature of this bout.
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
All hits called with consent due to the predetermined nature of this bout.
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
From the ruined streets of Ravelin City, Avernus watched the remaining auxiliary of his Legions descend towards the landing zone. Now, with the majority of the regional emplacements reduced to ash and scrap, the vessels enjoyed a far less turbulent approach. A smug grin crawled across his face as his achievement fueled the conceited fire in the foreground of his consciousness. Flamboyant flicks of the fingers brushed the dust from one shoulder, and then the next. Content now to stroll his way leisurely to the landing zone and rendezvous with his subordinates, he hopped down from a jutting platform of rubble and began to walk through the empty streets towards the cityscaped horizon where the RDAGs disappeared.
// A V E R N U S //
// L O R D _ O F _ T H E _ G A M E //
//
// RAVELIN CITY, LANDING ZONE //
// D E S T R O Y _ T H E _ T H R O N E //
// C A R R Y _ S T R E S S _ I N _ T H E _ J A W //
“Betrayal is the only truth that sticks.”
A sudden wall of dread stopped him in his tracks, assaulting his mind from a place far beyond. The Force crept into the back of his gray matter to compel the image of Irveric Tavlar vividly into his pondering. A portent of the disturbance to come, though vague and far from easily deciphered. Impending doom washed over the emotions, the forced ideation of the concept of failure sprouting into a remorseless anxiety. Interpretations were about as mercurial as the dark side itself, but the only things he could make of it were foreboding, to say the least.
Could such have been a vague premonition of their failure? If this elucidation was correct, it meant Avernus would have to act quickly to snuff such a path. If the future was truly inflexible, no one would ever be allowed to see it. Clenching his eyes shut, every shred of effort was dedicated to focusing on the presence of the Sovereign Imperator. Fruitless, of course, Avernus having momentarily forgotten the man's void of a presence within the force. Quickly, he instead combed his memories for images and feelings around Fortress Carnifex, trying to paint a sufficient mental image to pull himself there.
With a droning whir, the light around him warped as his body was once again pulled through the force itself, leaving only a sudden flash and cloud of black, wispy vapor where he once stood.
The astral soup that contained every atom, midi-chlorian, and shred of Avernus' spiritual being rushed through the void. As he re-entered the physical plane, his emergence sparked lighting in his immediate presence and the air around him erupted with a light boom. He stepped into the momentum of his ejection from that strange place, taking a handful of quick, long-strode steps forward before coming to a stop near the apex of a gathering of New-Imperial soldiers. Their armors clattered in near-unison as they all turned to face him, their lifeless visors hiding malicious intention behind reflective transparency.
// NEW-IMPERIAL FOOTHOLD, ROAD TO FORTRESS CARNIFEX //
"What's the sitrep on our push, is the Imperator-?" His inquiry trailed off as the ominous feeling evoked by the lifeless stare of their visors began to set in. Slowly, one by one, the troopers began raising their blasters towards him. Avernus' nostrils flared, his lip curling with disgust as he observed their hostile gesture. "What is the meaning of this!?" he demanded with a sharp hiss. "I am Darth Avernus, don't act like you don't know who I am," he continued his clamor, hand slowly creeping towards his lightsaber for good measure.
"Oh, don't worry 'my lord'," one of the troopers remarked sarcastically from behind his helmet. "We know exactly who you are."
The force once again crept into his mind, assaulting his ears with an echo of a phrase already spoken, an order already given:
//D E S T R O Y _ T H E _ T H R O N E//
// L E A R N _ T O _ S W I M //
"Smoke 'em!"
With almost imperceivable speed, Avernus snatched the hilt from his belt coupling. Golden blades screamed out of either end as they began to twirl wildly, batting away bolt after bolt of blaster fire. A dash forwards aided the wide-arced strokes of his blade, sundering limb after limb and tearing through the tarnished whites of New-Imperial aegis. Soldiers shouted and wailed, through the carnage that Avernus danced through with a graceful erraticism that seemed almost to antithetical to itself to even exist. Ozone was thick on the air around him as red streaks punched through the atmosphere with the sole intent of leaving him in the dirt.
The longer he fought, the denser the volleys seemingly became. More and more troopers arriving in their dogged attempts to neutralize him. White-hot hatred sparked from his fingertips, twitching erratically in several directions to find fleshy, conductive purchase on his assailants. Yet, still, where three fell, four more arrived. A bend of the knees followed by a sudden, force-infused straightening sent him vaulting in a backwards flip to the remnant of a Sith-Imperial transport for cover. It took less than a second for the sounds of bolts on metal to assault the ears as the ruthless efficiency of the New-Imperials remained trained on him, peppering his cover with suppressing fire.
Pressing his ear, he activated his comm device and began to shout; "Commander Zuul, I need assistance! The New-Imperials have played us like a Force-damned Bandfill! Extract me, and we're getting the hell out of here!"
"Negative, my Lord! The New-Imperials have got us- AAARGH-!"
Communications regressed to dead-static after an incomprehensible rumbling. Avernus' heavy breathing was stifled only by the sudden striking of the wrecked transports hull with his bare fists. He had to think, he could get himself out of this, but he just had to think. Ironically, anger could bring morbid clarity if you knew how to use it. He dwelled on the rage, the confusion, the anxiety, combing through the dark for a solution. But within his forage, all he could find was Sybila,
It was an out, all he had to do was focus. Finding her presence was the farthest thing from challenging. She could be on the opposite hemisphere, and he would still easily hone in on her being. Red steaked past his head as it punched through the dilapidated hull, singeing golden strands at their tip. With a wince, he allowed himself once again to step through the violent door of transferral. With a flash, he was once against sucked into the void, leaving behind only a sable haze for the New-Imperials to find when they finally pushed into his cover.
Avernus was ejected abruptly from the void onto the pavement. He tumbled erratically across the ground, grunting with every rough impact. Out of the roll, he stabilized on his hands and knees, panting heavily with the prominent rising and falling of his torso. A heave brought the remnants of his last meal regurgitating from between his lips and splattering against the ground between his hands. Near-instantly transmitting oneself to another location was taxing, and Avernus had never used it in such close succession over such long distances. Thus, the toll it was taking on him now was not something he'd ever experienced, it was infuriating.
"There is no escape— we pay for the violence of our ancestors."
// A V E R N U S //
// ROAD TO THE GATES, FORTRESS CARNIFEX //
// L E A R N _ T O _ S W I M //
The ringing in his ears was deafening, heralding with it the sharp pain in his head. Through vertigo, he struggled to bring himself up to a knee. Head still hanging down, he staggered up to his feet and wiped the vermillion that poured from his nose with the back of his hand. Whipping backwards, he forced his head to stare straight as his golden strands were flung backwards and out of his face. His wavering vision took a moment to clarify and stabilize as he observed the vague greys and blacks before him. Eyelids squeezed shut in laborious, forced blinks, over and over in an attempt to expedite his bearings.
Eyes widened as clarity came over his observation, and he could see the tanks and soldiers that he'd appeared in front of. All of them once under that command of Sybila, their 'Legion Commander', but Avernus was certain their sights were only moments away from setting onto her. "Sybila!" he shouted with all the air he could muster in his lungs. "We have to get out of here, we're being played!"
// Legion Commander // 307th Red Riders //
// Armor / Hand Of God / Rifle / Pistol / Saber(s) / Grenade //
// Fortress Carnifex // Flanking // Surrounding City Sector
// Allies : NIO / Irveric Tavlar Lucien DookuAvernus Nima Appw'rii
// Enemy : TSE / Jain
The long wail the woman had emitted was foreboding, the sound bordered animalistic to her as it echoed down the once city block-a sound she wouldn’t have associated with a mere woman. Lyra’s head craned up as her knees hit the ground, arms sprawled out as she caught herself on the shredded pavement. The radar blinked steadily and Lyra searched the ruined intersection for Lieutenant Arroyo. The burst in the force..part of her knew this would happen. Lyra wheezed painfully as she clutched the plate of her cuirass, her mid ached with pain from the last hit. Her horror mounted as her servo dragged along the sharp crack that splintered across the armor-how strong was this woman?
<”Find the leftenant now!”> Lyra ordered, flecks of blood on her lips as she pushed herself to her feet. Fear had crept it’s way in and now Lyra feared she had misculated. The shift in the air drew her attention immediately as she stumbled forward as troopers rushed past toward ruble let in their wake. The speed of the woman caused a change of pressure, alarms blared across the HUD as the A.I highlighted the ungodly creature. The leathery wings, she had only caught glimpse before it was lost in the smoke and clouds. Lyra turned slowly as she followed the smothering sensation nigh blindly through the Force; entrapped by it.
“What the fuck..” she whispered, if the Colossus from the streets of Harnaidan poised half the threat..
Lyra’s hand brushed over her belt to reach for her saber, she wouldn’t hesitate this time but through the haze-the tank smashed in before her and the repulsors sparked out. A sharp eradication of life snapped in her mind and Lyra revolted, her head reared back. It was instinct alone that drove her to the ground, hitting the cement hard; limbs scraping at the cement. A chunk of steel whizzed past her and her heart stuttered, shrapnel and chunks of the armor tore past. The percussion alone punched through the smoke and the shroud over the street was lifted, an orange light cast across the roadway from the horizon that burned.
The jagged debris tore up the roadway, the metallic bend and snap deafened all audio. Lyra screwed her eyes shut, huddled in the street for mere seconds that dragged on. Wait it out, that all a soldier could do in the wake of a bombardment. A high pitch ringing noise filled her ears and Lyra raised her arm to peer out toward the burning impact site, confusion flooded her senses. The woman stood there in the remains of the pulverized armor, bodies from the troopers caught in the fray and..her eyes landed on the bloody arm of..a dismembered..the gore. A strangle cry crawled out her throat, Lyra screeched at the sight of the roadway and the remains of the trooper squad. They never stood a chance, every time. Her fist made impact with the stone, a physical manifest-a knee jerk as anger engulfed her. The tilt of metal caught her eye as they summoned their weapon. If not the sixth sense that screamed caution-Lyra would have thought it was a shot from artillery that had hit the roadway.
Up until this point of her unfortunate existence, Lyra had believed in the loose term of the maker. The Force hadn’t been something they spoke about or associated in the household, ever pragmatic. She had heard a phrase once though, the Force had a Will, and maybe that was what this all was. Lyra rocked herself up onto her feet, her balance skewed by the ringing in her ears- each step jolted through her legs as she sprinted blindly toward the woman. A voice chided her in the back of her mind, urge dher to break the queen-
“Who are you really?” Lyra hissed as she stared down the monstrous woman as she closed in. Her servo thrusted out as the Force-unseen by the eye crept out and she pried her way in.
“You’re trapped,” Lyra gaped and she flinched visibly.
Drifting was as close as she could describe it, the prying down a tunnel-unearthing soil between her hands. The anguish drowned her and her shoulders shook, her Master had never explained how-but she understood the raging wildfire. The woman oozed with an aurora of disorienting anger, layered and smothered by it-what had her Master described it..loud. It was loud.
“Why should you be afraid?” the words flew from her mouth, the city side a blur. The dark energy harbored was easy to pluck at now and Lyra’s form tensed as her boot hit the ground, wrapping it around herself as she vaulted up, propelling herself with the Force in one exhale. Her Master had asked her that once upon a time-Lyra had questioned it herself and she couldn’t stop herself “-I understand.”
Lyra’s form twisted through the air as she threw herself over the ground zero, a dark blur in the air. Her servo clenched out and digits suddenly fanned out as she slowed herself and Lyra hit the road.
“I think-I think I understand,” Lyra chuckled as she rationalized the abstract depravity. The foot fall of the troopers surrounding them lost on her, the radar populating. She would lose herself in the depth of-Lyra shook her helmet viciously as she cleared her head, swallowing thickly-the blood that coated her face cracked and irritated-as she spoke up “-caged, I was too. I am, the Punished? And you-of course no one would willingly submit..wouldn’t you like to be free-to be in control?”
The bastardization of an angel-this woman was her enemy and at the same time, Lyra pitied her. She didn't have the luxury of time to dabble with humanity, they were alike in one way or another. It was a shame her men had died, that their bodies littered the road now. Her gauntlets curled at her sides, metal creaking. Numb to the will of her body, Lyra planted herself between the ruins of the tank and the rest of Bronco Company. The Commander rolled out on the ball of her heels and rose to her height as she dropped her saber off her belt.
The saber thrummed with heat as she ignited, a red swarth cut between her the behemoth as she held the blade up. They were all monsters in the end, and she knew better than to humanize the enemy. The comm links buzzed and Lyra barely registered the hum over the audio, the Imperator-the transmission interrupted the stand off. A terrible feeling settled in her gut and Lyra shook as her rage dwindled, the footfall of soldiers surrounded her and pot shots sounded off as the troopers opened fire on the behemoth.
Her breathing grew erratic, a cold sweat broke out across her neck. It was a long time coming but Lyra felt dark screens-the eyes behind them that roved over her; over the lightsaber in hand. She had never hid it from them. What a horrible place to be, trapped between zealots and an abomination.
Lyra turned, the presence she knew-it was a beacon on the road drew her eye and Lyra peered over her shoulder at her Master. The street was illuminated by a scattering of blaster bolts and Lyra flinched as heat grazed her side-pelted by one shot-then a second bolt came. A strangled cry escaping her as she felt the searing heat of the plasma melt through the armor weave and scorched the tenebrae.
“Stand down!” she screamed, gauntlet scrambling over the vambrace as she adjusted the link. <”Stand down! Squad leaders control your sol-”>
There was a flurry of orders across the comm links, orders from squad leaders as some joined the hail of blaster fire-others reached out to stop their brothers. She understood fundamentally why now, why it had to happen. It wasn’t personal, none of them except for three madmen. If the Order hadn’t bitten off more than they could already chew, and Lyra’s eyes fell to the bodies of the troopers; choking on every sense that screamed at her run. She despised his ambition, this was his legacy. She wanted to trust them, Irveric Tavlar but she had learned very well the hard way not to. Lyra hardly recognised Irveric’s voice behind the order anyway, why did she love him?
<”Squad six stand down-private stand the fuck down!”>
Every hour she had invested in these soldiers meant nothing and her retribution was at risk.
<”She’s one of them!”>
Her thumb brushed the switch of the lightsaber, the crimson blade snuffed out as she jammed it back on to her belt. Her senses lead her to turn-and Lyra slammed her elbow out, stepping in to it as she smashed in the helmet of the trooper that rushed her. She wasn’t one of them. Sheer panic overwhelmed her, vision swarmed as the city street descended into chaos. It was naivety to trust them-every hour invested base side. They weren’t her men, Lyra’s eyes narrowed-feeling the static roar through her mind. Her hand flexed, to reach out through the Force-
<”Genesis-two! Genesis do you read!”> Lyra shouted in one breath, heaving for air.
Lyra twisted as white gauntlets seized her arms, she felt a sharp twinge in her shoulder as the trooper wrenched her shoulder. Lyra twisted her body, a sharp inhale as her arm fell limp and she threw her hip into the soldier as she fought the man for her bloody limb. The HUD blared the order across the screen as high profile targets flickered across it. Imagines of the upper echelon skewed by the ugly crack in the screen, she did not see her visage-Irveric had been the one to extend the olive branch. Was it hypocrisy? Nothing she would do would ever be enough and shout reverberated from behind clenched teeth and Lyra seethed.
They were acting outside orders, but there was still a target painted on her back. The Commander hadn’t lied when she told the woman that she was trapped, Irveric would never understand the anger coursing through her veins. He had given her another saber, and her servo carefully brushed over the hilt. Good soldiers followed orders, but this would be her last. Pivetting, she kicked the soldier away with one heavy boot. Her body shook from the adrenaline, dwindling the cold and sobering reality. Her eyes stung as she howled, her servo tightening once again, pins and needles ran up her left limb-the HUD flickered again. Fracture collarbone-
<”Admin override-inject bacta shot-override!”> Lyra shouted-mind reeled as a kick snapped against the back of her leg, buckling her leg. She didn’t feel the needle hit her vein.
<”I read you Colvy, the order. Is everyth-”>
Lyra thrusted up her servo as arms circled around her neck-there were two-no five troopers that circled her. The A.I highlighted the vibro knife in one of their hands. Her boots kicked at the road and debris as she was hauled back in a headlock-if not for the armor she’d choke. Lyra swung her leg out, the rank was a mess-
<”Disengage! Disengage you idiots!”>
<”Nima they’re fucking turning on me! If-”> Lyra said, raising her arms as she turned. Another gauntlet cracked across her face plate and Lyra hit the pavement; her armor scraped across the road. The taste of the tibanna on the air as light filtered it’s way through the shattered screen. Every hour she had invested in each Company of soldiers-
<”Stand down! Fuck-gun them down!>
A shadow descended over her and her vision darkened as a boot cracked across the side of her helmet, Lyra rolled over once-pain radiated through her skull. Shots echoed down the city block and her vision waned, the repulsors from the tank line blurred and all she saw was cerulean. These troopers were due their retribution though, she just despised how they lifted their barrels toward her. Loyalty was nothing but a fallacy.
<”Nima-my boys! Avernus is here, I am going after him-if something happens you protect them,”> Lyra screeched, copper on her tongue. Her gauntlet reached up to rip at the helmet; shards of the screen cutting into her face. A contingency, if in case she didn’t.. She could make out the effort of the majority, trying to organize and divide the dissenters. The Commander groaned, pain stretched across her body and she wasn’t keen to move-her visage tender and already swelled.
<”Archer-actual tighten up the rank-we have situation-”>
<”Two cloaks confirmed in the sector, redirect teams to rear-”>
They hadn’t waged this war for anything less, but no one would understand in one breath. Lyra had chosen efficiency but she was lost somewhere in the intricacies-she’d never be a Sith. With one hand she slowly wrenched off the helmet, head slumped-the road digging into her temple. The echo of the siege magnified as she shoved the helmet away, one of these fuckers-hands caught under her arms and Lyra cracked open her eyes-blinded by the day as she was dragged across the road, armor catching on chunks of debris until she was pulled off the roadside. The shadow of a trooper loomed over her and Lyra spat a wad of blood, shielding herself with her servo. She didn’t want to contemplate that a handful of troopers had just been executed on the street.
“You son of a whore-”
“Ma’am! Ma’am please calm down!” the trooper answered, hands sprawled up and palms out as Lyra stared.
“Commander! They’re dead-you’re good!”
“Arroyo-” Lyra bellowed, narrowing her eyes as she searched blurrily-she knew that voice. The dark visor of the leftenant overwhelmed her-he was moving and it was more then she had expected, “-help me up! Redirect the next tank now!”
“What-why the tank-” the zabrak questioned, an edge to his words. Finally able get a good look at the soldier-his his arm hung limply at his side, crushed. His helmet tilted to check over his shoulder, gun fire sounded on top of them.“-squad cover us! We’re moving up the sector now!”
“Fucking aim for the whore-son. I want him fucking dead now!” Lyra shouted, he was slippery and she’d be damned if he made it out now. There was a muffle voice as he relayed the orders as the Medic stooped down and helped haul her up. Planting a heavy servo on the Medic's shoulder, she pointed to the Lieutenant, snapping her fingers. She kept her promises, if not for all the chaos her Master had sown, the madness he dredged from her-for her children. He’d never lay a hand on them, though she owed him a thanks. He had gifted her the Force. Arroyo hefted up a pistol in hand, shadowing her right and Lyra scoffed. The nervous shift of the soldiers around her, the unease hung in the air as she stepped past the bodies.
The command squad fanned around them, the scrap had been broken up in a matter of minutes and Lyra glanced down the grey street with a fever-searching for her Master. Her eyes landing back on the Sith Lord himself, fingers brushing the last override on her vambrace, injecting her final stimulate. Her lip curled back in a sneer and Lyra took a handful of steps forward, out of the black smoke that hung low on the roadway and gauged the distance between them. The hatch screeched open on the rear tank and Lyra hailed down the commander-A steady click as the main cannon adjusted down the sights on the roadway. The repuslors dimmed as energy was siphoned into the powerwell, the squads on the road reorganized, barrels drawn on the Sith Lord himself.
“Master, good to see you!” Lyra shouted down the street before the tank fired. She sounded nigh out of breath-her shoulders rose erratically, the edge of her voice bordered mad as she tossed up her good hand- “say hello to all my closest friends and their tanks! Also! Do me a favor-”
As the commotion and fighting raged before him, his vision still struggled to square up through the sudden exhaustion. He wasn't sure why he hadn't yet bee fired upon, and he was trying to ground himself before it was too late. The bile in his stomach subsided from its sudden uproar, leaving him with one arm over the stomach. Forcing himself to stand up straight amongst the wisps of sable haze that obscured his location, he could barely make out Lyra from between the black. His eyes had been drawn to her tangible frustration and anger that could be felt even from this distance. He squinted his eyes as one hand began to wave the atmospheric anomaly way from his face for a clearer look at his apprentice.
// A V E R N U S //
// BETRAYED //
//
// THE GATES, FORTRESS CARNIFEX //
// L E A R N _ T O _ S W I M //
// B O W _ D O W N //
OOC Note:
PvP hits called with permission from the opposing writer.
“Et tu, Lyra?”
Stepping forward, his shades of purple and gold absconded the cover of stygian cover to be seen clearly among the grays and beiges of his locality. Among the redirected tanks and swarm of soldiers, Avernus was dwarfed into near-insignificance. Lyra's initial shouting was intelligible below the ringing that still persisted in his ears. The only thing he could hear clearly was his own breathing, pant after laborious, raspy pant. Eventually, another disturbance tried started to set in around the same time he realized no one was turning on her. Her lips moved as she scowled his direction, but the sound didn't quite reach him.
Until it did-
https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/733449408477265990/751714704027680898/queen.pngEven Lyra? Perhaps this was the special privilege of knowing the Imperator's bed. He should have expected as much. Any deeper analytical delving was cut short by the sudden warning of danger that the force screamed from deep within his being. He could feel every mechanism in the tanks beginning to prime to face him. He inhaled sharply and quickly as he prepared himself for another jump, all at once beginning to realize how bleak the situation truly was. Just before the deafening burst of cannon fire, another voice called out-
Avernus pulled himself through the parallel space once again just as the tanks sent a loud volley of explosive death to where he once stood. Lyra and Lucien? How vexing. There wasn't much time to think as he screamed through the black void at an incomprehensible speed. The one thing he decided for certain; he had to get out of here, and he had to take Lyra with him. Lucien was bound to follow, but Avernus was didn't have time to worry about that.
Ejected once again from the unknown, he flew outward at head-level just above the crowd of New-Imperial troopers. The adrenaline had kicked in and with a sudden profane invigoration granted by the dark side, plasma screech from his closed hand as he began to swing wildly. It took only a split reactionary moment for those not sundered to turn their fire accordingly. Once again, a black haze sent him off once again into the void, avoiding harm.
Being ripped from his own reality was painful. Commanding the force to do such things was something many would consider unnatural, or possibly even contrived, but it served its purpose well enough. Once again he was disgorged from the unknown, repeating his quick dance of sudden death. Soldiers shouted and clamored as they began to catch onto the scheme, but the rest remained in a panic and wildly deferred their fire to his new location once again.
In a flash, and with the expected inky gale, he was gone once again. Lyra was his target, and as such when he has regurgitated from the force once again, he torpedoes from the cloud with arms outstretched. Harshly, his outstretch fingers slapped against her throat, seizing like a hunting trap around the vulnerable flesh. Just before the sound of her armor clattering to the ground beneath his assault could sound, a violent woosh and expansion of black air ripped the two away.
Flying through the everblack realm, it was hard to retain his grip. Their beings had become nearly intangible within nothing. As they rushed to their location, whatever it may be, Avernus clawed and grasped with what he could still retain of his extremities. It was hard to tell where Lyra ended and he began. It was only through sheer will kindled by his anger did the dark side allow him to form himself upon their ejection.
Violently, they would burst feet-first out of that horrible place. It wasn't perfect, his hands had moved from her throat; one gripped her face while the other seized the wrist. He conquered the opportunity so quickly it was almost as if he'd intended it this way. Pushing down on her face, and pulling away with her wrist, he kept her in an awkward restraint. As her knees bent and her spine began to bend backward beneath his strength, his thumb shoved itself into her eye.
Lyra roared, unable to squirm away with her primary arm slowly being near-torn from the socket. Farther and farther he pushed as his squeezed only intensified. Her black strands fell backward to tickle the metallic surface they both stood upon. Only inches between the back of her head and the 'ground'. Blood began to spurt from the socket, and Avernus could feel the globe within give like a crushed grape.
"Sybila, you monumental imbecile!" he screamed, his words echoing from the wall which they stood and down to the cityscapes below. "Do you really think they're on your side!? They will cut you just as quickly as they have tried to cut me," his words were pushed from a tight, rage-paralyzed jaw. His brow softened and his bottom lip protruded as he mocked a pleading looking of empathy for no other purpose than taunting condescent. "Is this really what you think is best for Kriegan and Covallis? For their mother to die an enemy of the state so they can be left to their absent Father, too obsessed with his superfluous acts of vengeance?"
Face returned to malice as he pushed harder and harder, his once azure eyes having finally regressed to the corrupted firey-gold that mirrored Lyra's own. For a split second, they strayed from her gaze to take a quick glance at their surroundings. They had gone far, so far in fact that Avernus could see almost all of Ravelin from where he stood. The walls of Fortress Carnifex had become their stage. And perhaps, even that small moment was enough for his apprentice to seize, if his teachings had been effective...
// Legion Commander // 307th Red Riders //
// Armor / Hand Of God /Rifle/ Pistol / Saber(s) / Grenade //
// Fortress Carnifex // Flanking // Surrounding City Sector
// Focus
Lyra raised a gauntlet high as the tank fired on the lone Sith Lord, the foot fall of troopers surrounded her as the security force swept up the block. The woman who she had brushed paths with forgotten for now, the lesser evil. Each sound reverberated and she felt exposed now without the helmet-It was difficult to track by eye alone in the smoke but Lyra felt the pull of the Force. The percussion rippled and she felt the punch deafened by the explosion. She turned her head just before impact-in a split second something..no someone else had come and she knew the presence. Lucien-fucking-Dooku.
Words and orders, rage-the better part a tangled mess of confusion died on her tongue just as the avenue was engulfed by a vision of crimson and Lyra flinched. Chunks of cement and debris unearthed in a single shot, bathing the city block. The dust filtering down through the air from the explosion, covering the soldiers. The heat of the shot rippled and a smoking ruin was carved out in place of the city road when she opened her eyes back up- there had been a wisp and distortion just before. Her eyes did not deceive her and dread crept in the back of her mind.
“Arroyo! Rally the men and join up with the five o' first.”
They-no she was on the cusp of absolution but Avernus would not make it easy and knew the damage he would gladly inflict if the Spacer, if any more of them interrupted. Over her dead fucking body. Within the cloud of cover the blaster fire flashed wildly and Lyra jerked as a bolt sung past her. Desperation and blasters were the poorest of combinations.
“Fuck..” Lyra hissed, even if she had bitten off more than she could chew..A gentle knock caught her shoulder as she glanced back, finding the visor of the Zabrak who nodded to her. He was a stubborn one but there was only forward. There was no room for doubt as she felt the rush of energy, a swarth cut through the men alike and Lyra's head snapped from side to side-following the presence. Disgust trailed down her as she waded in to the blaster fire and smoke, death tainted the air and Lyra’s servo brushed her saber. Her mind reeling as she tried to track the Sith. He had promised her so long ago, wroth and pride wounded; if she raised her hand it best be to kill. It was time to make good on that.
"Where are you.." she growled.
In a split second she pushed the Lieutenant back as the Sith swooped in, closing in on her; fingers clamping around her throat. Her hand catching his wrist, strength wavering as she jerked her arm fighting his grip. Lyra had been deceived but she knew better the strength behind his hand as he squeezed-she couldn’t breath she-She expected the painful kiss of the pavement behind her as his weight came crashing down on her, every ounce of her will steered her from panic.
Blood and spit gargled in the back of her throat as she trashed under Avernus’ hand. Anticipation warned her and all perception was torn and Lyra’s senses waived as the city block disappeared. The void lay here and Lyra was lost in confusion and something weighed so heavily on her chest as he tore them away with a whisk of the Force. She fought it for the sheer mania of the nothingness they soared through.
Wrenched back, Lyra seized, bent under the will of the Sith. Where had he taken them? It was like breaking the surface as the power washed away. Stone scraped her armor and pain radiated through her spine and Lyra felt a breeze gently brush over her. It was not the face of the pure-blood that had loomed over but the eyes, the eyes hadn’t changed.
Her servo flexed without grip to reach out, her gauntlet reaching out-scraping at his arm trying to tear him down. When he lifted his hand from her throat, a gasp tore through her as she inhaled greedily. The grip on her arm pulled further and pain radiated along the joint, the bright skies stolen when he plunged his thumb in her eye and Lyra screamed and choked.
She the wet pop and squelch within her skull, the pain alone driving her to the edge of consciousness as he dug through her mind. Mortality crossed her concerns and she felt like she was holding on to a slipping sheet. The faces of two babes flickered across her mind and she knew-Hearing the names of her boys on his wormy little lips. The singular act ignited the hollow little pit that had been carved out by his hand; tormentor and guide.
“Don’t you fucking utter their names-” Lyra roared, struggling between one breath. Adrenaline came crashing down around her, her lip curling back as her face melded and withering from the pain. “-stop!”
The ugly violation of her memory, and the further he dipped, pilfering through each carelessly. She was tired of kneeling, of this submission-Lyra grasped at the sharp pain as she drew on the dark side inside and thrusted it back unto him. Wielding it like a pick, the physical battle melted into the back as she pushed past the mental front unto him mind. She had learned well from the Inquisitor Kascalion Giedfield , just how to dig. Irveric-
“You’re fucking obsessed with him! If you hadn’t meddled with him, maybe just maybe we wouldn’t be here. Who is Kenth...the man's his..and Tyrell? Oh no no no-”
There was noise trapped between both ears and her face burned from the touch alone as he spoke, black spots dancing across her waning vision. She was an enemy of the state if this alone marked her wrong-
She wasn’t pure, the very thought caused a choked laugh to squeeze it’s way out from her lips. It was sweet she supposed but it made nothing right. Avernus was correct in some retrospect but she didn't care, she had nothing to hide before and nothing now. Even if the rage was of the same coin and the powers that hung in her hands-Irveric had given one sliver to trust in. Almost sluggishly she trickled through her tools mentally one by one, every twitch of her body and the pain grew; nerves on fire. She just needed to get him-Lyra’s form heaved and threatened to buckle back, the thrusters of her boots igniting as she heaved one leg out from her locked form. Lyra swung her boot up as she kicked Avernus’ face back, an ugly crack resounding as she jolted him; his grip faltering.
“-mark my words Master. Your manipulations ended a long time ago-whatever you planned. Well it’s a shame you never inspired such loyalty, my men-” Lyra coughed, her sole eye seeking his out as she bore into his.
Lyra’s hand slammed out, ripping his hand from her visage- a sickening sound as she extracted his hand fro-her stomach threatened to spew as she pushed herself aside. Acting on instinct alone as she rolled on to her knees, inhaling deeply. Her shoulder barely gave and Lyra tested the limb as she rose up to her feet. Hot blood gushed from the raw flesh. He had finished what war and battle had failed to do the day she joined the fray. It was only a matter of time..Her gauntlet ghosted over the gore as the high rise doubled around her, vision-her own balance skewed as she stumbled away. He had taken them far, and she only faintly regarded their surroundings atop the walls of the Palace. I
“-Irveric, Dooku, Agrippa and plenty others well above you...I’m not like you that’s why I am not dead. They’re why..I’m not beholden to you, to your Sith Code-I’m not beholden to anything but my children...I’m not one of you..” Lyra seethed, words threatening to slur. She was doubled over at the waist as she gripped the tenebrae and cradled her sundered eye; blood leaking from between her fingers. She was scared, if she did not make it out- Lyra swallowed thickly, her bloody hand dropped to the pistol on her hip, unholstering the Durin. No more.
She didn't want to hear another word from him, the lies he spewed endlessly to snare. Lyra had been complacent for too long and for to many. Her hands shaking as she leveled the blaster, her servo dropping on her saber as she yanked it from her belt. The crimson blade hummed steadily in hand, the curve of the hilt reassuring under her grip. Lyra pressed forward with a heavy step across the wall, steadily unloading the clip. Golden plasma eating up the space as she fired on him, recoil hammering through her wrist. She looked to the Sith Lord through the Force, her eyee feathering-falling shut. His stench unmistakable but her aim wayward.
“I am not one of you. I see my path beyond this war. I told you a long time ago. I. Am. A. Soldier. but I will see any bastard like you I come across to the fucking grave. I promise you that,” Lyra wheezed out over the blaster fire, turning the blade in hand as she brought it guard; readying herself.
Avernus rolled harshly against the metallic ramparts as he was thrown from Lyra. His legs and shoulders impacted heavily with fleshy thuds as he tumbled several meters away. Cape ripped against the friction as he slid to a slow stop, rolling onto his hands and knees. His head pounded, the adrenaline having worn off so suddenly, leaving him a dazed state after inordinate exertion required for that final jump. Crimson poured from his nostrils and spattered upon the ground below, small droplets drizzling upon the olive skin of his hands. Lyra's accusation fell fruitlessly beneath the intense rining that occupied his ears.
// A V E R N U S //
// BETRAYED //
//
// THE GATES, FORTRESS CARNIFEX //
// L E A R N _ T O _ S W I M //
// B O W _ D O W N //
“Et tu, Lyra?”
Shifting one foot forward, he forced himself to a knee. With a sway, and Bastion spinning beneath his feet, he began to straighten his leg. The opposite foots dragged behind him as he slowly lifted to stand before finding its own purchase along the ground. Avernus swayed left and then right, his vision scrambled like a disoriented carousel of watercolor. Tightening his lips, he spat outward sending blood spraying from off his lips. The back of his wrist coming in turn to remove the lingering vermillion ichor.
Sybila's word still jumbled together into an incomprehensible drone, drowned beneath the sharp pitch in his ears. He reached for his saber, but a drop of his heart and sharp inhale followed a realization: it wasn't there. Squeezing his eyes closed momentarily, he forced his vision to clear. The newly yellowed gaze, free of its azure impurity scanned the floor around him in a daze, looking for the metallic cylinder. Too late. A pang of danger assaulted the mind just in time for Avernus to look up and hear the sound of Lyra's pistol firing the solid projectiles from its remorseless mechanisms.
With every evasive weave, Avernus could hear the slugs crashing into the battlement behind him. The final of which, resonating with an out of place clink. A thump into the forehead caused the head to jerk unnaturally to the side, straining unprepared muscles. Flesh now torn from the impact, blood ran from the mutilation and down into the eyes. He staggered, struggling to keep on his feet as he covered the vandalized tissue beneath his head. Gritting his teeth together, he growled and snapped his gaze up to his, perhaps, now former apprentice. A piercing, malicious laser of murderous intent burned into her return gaze.
With one final call through the void, Avernus extended his hand with a tight, clawing flex. A sudden flash followed by a small exhalation of black mist from thin air produced his lightsaber hilt into his hand. With a bob forward and tilt upwards, his head guided his spine into assuming a straight posture. Blood began to drip once again from the nose, the twisting of space itself demanding its physical due from the Sith Lord. From his left, golden plasma hissed to brilliant lumination from between his fingers. The blade itself absconded from its angled point towards the ground with a flourish lead by Avernus's wrist. Directly in front of him, the radiant blade visually bisected his face in the signature salute of Makashi.
"We'll see about that," he hissed with a previously unseen loss of composure. Another flourish brought the blade to point behind his left as he strode forward, gliding on each foot in a supernatural stride. As his anger came to a head in the depths of his chest, an inhuman, beastly scream resonated from the deepest pits of his torso. An assaulting leap was taken towards Sybila with an accompanying corkscrew that wound up a wild overhead strike.
(Sorry ya'll we're seeing this one through. I have to stab this guy.)// Legion Commander // 307th Red Riders //
// Armor / Hand Of God /Rifle/ Pistol / Saber(s) / Grenade //
// Fortress Carnifex // Atop The Walls
// Focus
The screams of anger stretched through her skull as she saw past the veil her Master wore so prettily. Lyra opened her eye, thrust from his mind the imagines haunting her and revolted by the sheer ugliness of his ambition. Lyra seethed as she drew in a deep bloody breath that stretched through her; plying it like armor. The rage that radiated through the Force from the Sith were almost suffocating and the pistol went slack in her grip after the last shot rang out. Her adrenaline spiked. The clip had been spent and she let the gun clatter to the stone. Lyra’s feet slid back across the stone of the wall as she began to back track with hurried steps as he flung himself at her.
.."The path to redemption begins once you've accepted your truth."..
Whispers danced along the edge of mind, the voice far too familiar and infuriating. A screech crawled it’s way from her mouth as she screamed in defiance; body shaking. The cursed thing Irveric had given her, some attempt to placate their demons. He couldn’t have known that it came with a guardian that was bent on mocking her. Her wail melded with the winds that rushed over the wall’s ramparts, carrying the sound. What redemption did she require? Her eye flickered across the shoulders and tilt of the blade of her Master, tracking him like a watchful dog.
Her fall hadn’t been a quiet thing, she had smiled through it all and pretended nothing was wrong.
Lyra twisted her body as Avernus’ shadow descended upon her in the flourish and she leapt aside, bypassing his strike. The Force swept through her as her breath hitched, gritting her teeth. The faintest pangs of fear reached around her chest squeezed as the heat of the golden saber singed dangerously close as he landed upon the lone spot she had stood. She could not afford to fight him in a battle of shear brutality.
Lyra snapped her saber close to her body in a horizontal flash of crimson shielding herself as their blades connected briefly in a series of glancing blows. The stretch of stoneworks of the wall offered plenty of space but little in the way of cover as the siege pressed on. The air up here was laced with the faintest whiff of tibanna gas and the burning pollution below. Their blades plasma bleed together in a hellish color as they made contact before her. His prowess was undeniable and though she scraped every ounce through the Force to follow each cut and thrust. Her head swiveled side to side as they wove their way across the walls. She was the better part stumbling child, each step heavy and weighed down by the tenebrae armor as she struggled to defend herself against his attack.
Her arm jarred as he crashed his blade against her's-the plasma of his saber caught in her guard as Lyra hefted her arm higher as he pressed in to strike. Pain crept up her bones as she felt a stabbing sensation dip through her shoulder. Lyra looked upon the Sith, jaw clenched shut. Her shoulder ached as their blades locked, her strength wilting quickly as he loomed over her. Lyra bore her teeth at the man as his saber dipped dangerously close to her exposed shoulder and she could smell the sharp burning smell of the body suit.
It is far more terrible to admit, but Lyra had lied to herself. They couldn't do shit to her, the Imperial echelon-this would prove it but her striving could turn out to be insignificant. Even if she guarded her boys now, there was so much still to be done for. Her master was just a stepping stone-Lyra shoved all thought from her mind driving herself upon her anger.
Where the plate the behemoth woman had crushed, now sizzled as the weave melted. Lyra could feel the heat building steadily beneath the body glove as the golden saber kissed her arm. There would no be overpowering him and Lyra relented in a split second decision. Her body snapped back as his saber dragged caught her across her arm. The burning pain jarred her sense as cut cut through the armor and she stumbled. A cry strangled in her throat as she drew the appendage close; cradling it. She struggled, gasping for breath. A long smoking back cut marred the limb and blacken flesh melded with the remains of the armor weave. Her vision was flooded by the gray ebb and flow as she smelled her burning flesh, she didn’t have much time-she could not sustain this.
Her boots dragged her back farther away from him, chest heaving as her balance teetered. Blood roared in her ears and what vision she clung to warped before her. The cybernetics he had woven into her flesh hissed and whined as she flicked her wrist with the blade in hand-testing it. Lyra's feet picked up as she blindly circled him, casting her sense out across the Force. Her arm did not raise and gave out though. Lyra's gauntlet ghosted the edges of the remains of the flak coat-the second saber that was tucked under there strapped to her plastplate.
Lyra stared across the stretch of wall at her Master, his form blurred and all she could see was the golden hue of his sword. He knew every trick she commanded but this and her gauntlet tightened in to fist. Ever since the brush on Coruscant, she had refused to touch the sword. She had languished long over the crystal jammed into her own blade, to bleed it-she knew better to deny another sword's use. Lyra traded her saber between her hands as her right arm sunk at her side useless. Inhaling, Lyra's fingers dug in hilt of the blade. She drew the pain-wrapped it around her closely as she dashed forward; holding her breath. She just needed to get close-just one slight of hand.
“When I am done with you..,” she wheezed behind a single slash, a half worded promise.
He was a bladesmen through and through, she had failed to adopt the art. Lyra flinched as the golden flash disappeared on her left. Half her senses engulfed in the murky blackness courtesy of her bludgeoned eye. A gap in her defense as a hissing dragged across the plate of her shoulder, the tenebrae singed under his blade and she whipped her blade around. Lyra turned the saber in hand, batting his sword aside as she stepped in. Her knee plate hit the stone first as spun low-every muscle tensed as she threw herself forward dragging her blade across the pale stone, leaving a burning line in it's path. Lyra thrusted the crimson blade up to drive him back, if not slash him from his very feet to his collarbone.
"Betrayal is the only truth that sticks."
Their blades caught once again. Avernus looked down at his apprentice, the force stimulating his muscles in a leisurely overtaking of her efforts. He grinned wickedly as he slowly rolled her blade to the side, holding it down to the side as he looked into her singular oculi. Golden plasma slid upwards to pressure the base of the blade, just above the hilt. This fulcrum trapped her weapon beneath his will, even if only for long enough that he may speak in such close proximity.
"What do you think will become of you without me here? You are Sith, and they will kill you for it. You may renounce it, claim you not of us, but you are branded forever." Avernus pressed harder, bending his knees to retain eye-level with her as he forced her stance down. "Your eye. Your very presence. What you have become follows you. It is stamped upon you, and it is a stain you will never scrub away." A quick step backward cleared Avernus of Lyra's sudden kip-up of strength. Avernus spun on his heels, flourishing his saber to control the momentum of her defiant lunge. In near-perfect unison, they stepped forward again and struck. She had never taken up this art of bladesmanship, but it was clear that his drills at the very least did something.
Screeches, hisses, and pops began their avant-garde and tempoless symphony as the duel continued with strike after strike. Avernus nicked at her wrist, the other thigh, the hip, the lower abdomen. No one ever told Avernus not to play with his food. Avernus's hand retreated behind his back. His saber paralleled with his spine only mere inches from injuring himself. A long step skirted towards Lyra, his foot latching with friction onto the ground and pulling him forward as he ducked. Her blade skid along the length of his blade as he flowed beneath her offense. When she pivoted, his hand seized her weapon wrist, holding it out and away from the two of them.
He twisted her arm, forcing her elbow into a slight bend. This control over her limbs extended to her torso as he willed her down with the right angles of maneuvering. He kicked his foot into the top of her knee, forcing her to plant it into the ground. The radiant plasma raised to a point, staring down the front of her throat with an indifferent will to snuff her out. "Lyra Voi'kryt is dead. Darth Sybila killed her. The fate of your true self is calling, and you would be unwise to deny it." The saber inched closer and closer, the stench of ozone and the radiating heat assaulting her bloody visage. "Don't make me kill you. It would be a terrible waste."
