I Have Nothing To Do...

[Darth Hauntruss]

@[member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""] EVERYONE
From the blackness of one of the shadows, one of the cloaked guards of the empress that had came with Mikhail let out a low sinister laugh that pierced the atmosphere of the entire situation. The laugh echoed around the streets and buildings until it reached a deafening hum all around. The cloaked figure removed her hood, to reveal a dark red-skinned and black tattooed monster who head in the shadows. Within the Sith Emprie she had gained a reputation as a person not to be messed with. A supreme corruptness and tainted of the force. She was Val'Ryss Zankarr. Her laugh once again echoed the area, drifting in between the gaps of the combatants.

"Hiss, hiss, hissss..." her snake like laugh chuckled about, "What a fascinating group of rabble that has collected itself here." She passed her gaze at Darren Shaw and Dark Onyx. Her thin lips stretched into a dark grin and she pointed at Onyx. "I have heard a great deal about you....Onyx? Was it?....hiss, hiss, hiss..." her finger then passed to point at Darren Shaw, "And of you, Dark Jedi...oh what brave and valiant souls you are, facing the might of the Sith Empire...head on and with such.....courage...hiss, hiss..." Val'Ryss removed her cloak to reveal a corrupted and twisted batch of metal that resonated with the blackest pits of the dark-side, her corrupt armor. Her black boots tapped the ground in dark echoes. The taint that corrupted the very air she breathed began to bleed out of her body. The taint would be similar to smelling the putrid decay of bodies, she burned the force around her with vile force aura, leaving most force users in a state of nausea. But, such was her force signature, she had rotted away in the darkness for centuries.

Appraoching Darren Shaw she gaze at the armoured man with her golden Sith eyes. "Dark Jedi like you....amuse me do you see?" she hissed in taunting laugh, "Like children, they can't decide what they want...dark or light? Instead the drift about in between, like lost souls brooding and philosophizing about the pains of being caught in between...hiss, hiss, hiss.....how cute. But I was born in darkness and lived in it...The light burns when I see it. So as final lesson to you. I shall reveal to you what real power is." Val'Ryss raised her hands and from her fingers the force began to swirl about her being, years of knowledge of corruption and manipulation of the flesh that she had learned and possessed came into employment. The force exploded from her fingertips and like a rush of acid poison into poured into the dark jedi, burning into the cracks of his armor and attempting to borrow its way into his skin and flesh. The dark curse she created would pierce into his flesh and eat away at his force strength. That is if he could repel such a curse.

 

[Matreya]

Zaiden sighed responding into his comlink buillt into mouth plate, "Yes empress." With that Zaiden turned and began walking back to the room slowly. He had expected more from the police force he had felt building up.

Wrapping himself in the force, he felt its cool serenity wrap around his wounds, mostly his head. And as the force helped him to walk back into the room, Zaiden spotted two femaleswhom had not been there before.. And absolute wreckage.

@[member="Darren Shaw"] was being attacked from 3 separate beings, and for some reason he felt the need to help the man. Maybe it was because he to was a Dark Jedi, or maybe it was something else. Whatever the reason, Zaiden fought the emotion down and stepped towards the fray again slowly.

"See Shaw? You could have just let me have @[member="Dark Onyx"]. Now my back up has to come down and handle my light weight." Zaiden sighed and tapped @[member="John Harrison"] on his shoulder just before the man attacked, "Watch out for his sword it may not be a saber, but it still does the same damage."

 

[Darren Onyx]

Onyx was shaken by the recent events of battle. It wasn't a surprise one of the Sith masters had it out for him, but now it became clear the entire Empire was after him. He suddenly realized what had happened. The entire Sith force was after them. All the Apprentice's, Knights, and even Masters were after him. @[member="Darren Shaw"] now too, since he was aiding him.

Onyx's mind flickered to @[member="Kiyala Demont"], who was back on Korriban. He only hoped they wouldn't know her alliance and ties with him.

Onyx came back to reality to see @[member="Zaiden"] falling back towards Darren, while @[member="John Harrison"] launched himself towards Onyx. He quickly reignited his two lightsaber and blocked his incoming attack. He then launched a powerful electric bolt at his face. Almost instantly after, Onyx brought his red lightsaber down hard, aiming for his head.

He took this second of blocking to his advantage. He noticed everyone. All of them sith. All of them past allies. Now they were all enemies. He flicked on his personal comm to Darren, "We need to get out of here. Split up, here are my coordinates to my ship," Onyx quickly used his free hand and sent his ships coordinates to Darren.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Val'ryss... more surprises. The assistance of the others was welcomed, but Dark Onyx was left solely to Shorn as all other focused upon Darren Shaw. Mikhail wouldn't have it any other way.

Mikhail felt a jarring sensation through his body as his blade collided with @[member="Dark Onyx"] 's own. It rolled up his arm and into his body. Yet Mikhali's muscles were familiar with it. Endless sparring sessions and not a few confrontations gave experience and edge to the raven haired Sith. While the two were locked in contest, Shorn felt a sudden welling of power within Onyx. It was the only warning he had. Mikhail moved his head sharply to the left, barely avoiding the bolt of lightning that sizzled past before crackling into the sand meters away. The burst left the air smelling of ozone, though Shorn could not himself sniff such a scent through his helm.

A sudden jolt ran through Mikhail as Onyx's second blade connected with his head. A killing blow. Except. Mikhail wore armor. Phrik armor. The blade seared into top of the helm, charring and blackening the once grey surface. However, the blade did not touch a hair of the head beneath. Shorn brought his fist sharply around, aiming a gauntled fist for Onyx's face. Traitor's blood would spill this day.

~ ~ ~

In orbit above Tatooine, the Immobilizer hung. Its gravity well projector prevented any ship leaving Tatooine from achieving hyperspace. Its turbolasers were trained intently on Onyx's last known coordinates. The captain received a notification from a Royal guard below. They had intercepted a transmission from Onyx to Darren Shaw. Personal comm lines really should be encrypted. But even then it would hardly matter. When a superpower sent its best to find you, it spared no expense. Hackers swiftly cut through the code to reveal the coordinates of Onyx's vessel. The captain of the vessel frowned savagely. Konor was not a man to let traitors escape. He was a fanatic. And fanatics took drastic action.

"We have the coordinates?"

"Yes, sir."

"Open fire with forward batteries."

"But sir.. the consequences?"

"I will not suffer traitors to exist, much less escape. They will be brought to justice, as all traitors to the Empire will be. Let this be a lesson to you all, the Empire does not look kindly on treason. The repercussion are exact, precise and... ruthless. Open fire."

Twin turbolasers each sent a massive green jet of plasma toward the coordinates of Onyx's ship. Enough firepower to blow an asteroid to bits. And once they reached Onyx's ship that's all it would be. Bits.

 

[Jacen Cavill]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"] @[member="Dark Onyx"]

Standing in the Imperial Guard uniforms, he had been sweating his tail off. After all, this desert world was quite scorching, and the heavy uniform didn't help matters. Were it nor for his intense physical training, and his years of military experience, the heat may have gotten to him. Luckily, he had drank plenty of electrolytes before donning the disguise, and through meditation he had kept himself physically cool. Patience had been the other maxim had had worked on on this day, after all catching a traitor took work. There is no greater reward, than to bring back one who would defy the law with which they once served. That thought had brought him comfort as he had masqueraded as a foolish guard all day, it was most unbecoming of the formal noble, but he tolerated it for the mission. After all, he was lucky to even be here as an Apprentice, and he appreciated being brought along. With the Sith, position was everything.

I will be the one till bring this scum back, a cackle escaped his lips at the thought.

As all chaos had broke out all around him, he had kept his disguise intact. Infact, it was working too well as no one had noticed his handiwork. Jacen had been in the city for a couple of days now, and when left with that many explosives. Well, he had done what only a Sith would do. After wiring the past ten blocks up, as well as Onyx's ship, he now played with the detonator. A smile crossed his handsome face at the thought as he watched everyone around him duel, and he soon picked his target. No, he wouldn't mess with the man who couldn't figure out which side he was on. No, an enemy such as that was unbecoming to one of Serreno heritage. Instead, emerald eyes focused on the traitor to the Empire. I hope you burn in fething hell, or whatever other place the Empress sends you to. As the thought flashed across his mind, he rid himself of the heavy helmet and robes.

Standing there in his plain black tunic, the massive man unclipped the borrowed lightsaber hilt. With a snap-hiss the blade activated, and with his free hand he pressed the detonator. Explosions rocked everywhere as the thermal detonators all went off at the same time, and he had picked just the right spot to be standing. His eyes eagerly looked around as the primitive structures exploded all around, and he could feel the biggest explosion of them all over in the hangar bay as Onyx's ship was vaporized by his charges and the orbital turbo-lasers. Yes, this day will be won by us. It would be a glorious victory, a Sith victory.

Looking towards Mikhail and Onyx, Jacen let his rage burn as Velok had instructed. He could feel his temper flaring, as he let his hate for everything burn in his belly. That fire expanded up and through his being, and as the world burned around him his eyes began to hurt. Instead of calming himself like he usually did, he focused all of his power into one focused strike as the Whipid had instructed. Instead of running in fear from the heat building in his eyes, he instead focused and thought of all the wrong he had every experienced in his life. Yes, there were visions of all the tortures he had undergone in his Sith training as well as from his father. Yes, Onyx would burn just like the buildings around. A red glow formed around his eyes, and instantly all the apprentices power in the Force channeled through his eyes as two beams of red energy blasted forth at his exposed flank as Mikhail attacked his front.

Deadly sight was indeed an accurate name for it..

 

[Darren Onyx]

Onyx wasn't letting the helmet of @[member="Mikhail Shorn"] get in his way. He kept launching powerful strikes at him. Suddenly a bright red glow caught his attention. Thinking it was blaster fire, he instinctively jumped away from Shorn and rose his sabers to block it. It wasn't blaster fire.

It was a young apprentice. His name was @[member="Jacen Cavill"] if Onyx could remember correctly. Onyx wasn't pressing to hard. Jacen was only an apprentice. This made him a easy target.

Onyx hit the beam away and flipped threw the air, landing behind the young apprentice. He then jumped forward and brought both sabers down on him, knowing that if Jacen missed, he would be dead.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Mikhail was not so easily dismissed. He parried each of Dark Onyx's blows with expert timing. It was not particularly hard to block an opponent's blows when they were all directed at one place. Not hard at all. Mikhail whirled around as Onyx jumped past him to deal with yet another Sith disguised in a Royal Guard uniform. Hell, where do you guys keep coming from? Not that I'm complaining. Another familiar face, Jacen Cavill. They'd met once before. Mikhail watched with a cool expression behind his visor as Onyx engaged the apprentice.

Shorn extended a hand into the air. The Force closed around Onyx in a grip tighter than iron. Like a docking claw. Inexorably powerful. Mikhail squeezed. The power of his Force Crush began to bend down about Onyx. Those sabers aimed for Jacen's head would be stopped dead in their tracks as Shorn's pyretic strength pushed them, along with the rest of Onyx, inward. He crushed down, unleashing the aphotic darkness within him, balling outstretched hand into a fist. If @[member="Dark Onyx"] did nothing, he would implode. All that would remain would be a crimson splash, where a body used to be.

The mind of the raven haired Sith stretched out to Jacen. "Make your move now. You said once that we are on the same team. Time to act like it."

 

[Darren Onyx]

Onyx was being crushed by @[member="Mikhail Shorn"]. "Darren..." Onyx yelled over to @[member="Darren Shaw"]. "Little help would be nice..."

Onyx quickly tried to think of a way out before @[member="Jacen Cavill"] could make a move. He suddenly realized what to do. A sith reaches his fullest with hate. He thought about his father. The man he hated most of all. The man who made him this monster he was today. He became angry.

His blue eyes suddenly changing to a dark and sinister red. "You will not have me," he simply said in a sinister voice. He used all his force and power to raise his arms and launch a powerful wave of the force at the two opponents. He hoped it would help Shorn break just enough for him to get away.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Mikhail hurtled backward through the air. He let Onyx's wave carry him. Unresisting. Shorn concentrated on more important matters. Like crushing @[member="Dark Onyx"]. The phrik armored Sith skidded along the sand, tumbling backwards and rolling to a stop. He ignored this. The armor kept him safe from the elements and Onyx's attempt was desperate. The traitor yelled for help. But Darren was beset by three Sith. There would be no help from his quarter. None of any use, at least.

The raven haired Sith lay where he was on the sand. Sure, it wasn't very glamorous, but he was trying to concentrate here. Standing up would take too much time. Onyx's attempt had been nothing more than a distraction. And a feeble one at that. Perhaps if Mikhail had not been wearing his phrik armor, things might have been different. Perhaps.

Shorn's mind was wrapped up in the shroud of the dark side. Or, more specifically, Derriphan's shroud. The vile blade lent him concentration far beyond his own capabilities. And he needed all of it for this task. The outside world faded away. Mikhail felt the fall, felt himself carried, heard the cries of Onyx, but he did not comprehend them. He was lost in the tide of the dark side's power. It swirled around him and he revelled in the euphoria of its presence. It was a bittersweet intoxication. A river of lava and an avalanche of ice. And Mikhail was riding them. Struggling to maintain control. Yet somehow, he did. Within his cocoon of shadow, Mikhail felt Onyx's body. A thing of flesh, bone and blood. Flesh could be flayed. And bones broken.

The Force Crush continued to close around Onyx in a durasteel fist. Tighter. Tighter. Did Mikhail's ears betray him, or was that the snap of bones breaking? Four seconds to implosion. Three seconds. Two.

 

[Garza]

Darren could only stand still as so much was happening all around him. 3 people would be attacking him, an now the entire empire was after him. He did not know how to block or avoid all of the assaults that were given before him. He felt as though his ches was burning from the force. Darren knew that the voice was on his side. Anayna didnt know that his mother was at home safe. her threatts did not hurt him in the slightest.

Darren used the force to grab his friend and yanked him to his side. Ashin betrayed him. Anger was through his veins. Darren thought about being some where else. He felt his body on fire. He knew what the voice wanted of him. Teleportation. Darren grabbed Onyx's shoulder and thought about his ship. He thought about what he had seen in his vision and knew that what he was doing was right. His body glowed for less than half a second when he dissapeared with Onyx.

He saw the back room of the bar that Onyx was at ealier. only for a second did he see it when he blacked out from it.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Mikhail blinked. His quarry had disappeared. Well, at least Jacen Cavill was still alive. Shorn quested out with his senses, all the while Derriphan bolstered his concentration. He scoured outward, searching, searching. Ah yes. He felt Dark Onyx's presence in the Force. Not so far away. Of Darren, he could feel nothing. Had the man died? His efforts certainly seemed... extraordinary. Shorn projected the area where he felt them to the rest of the Sith Strike Team. @[member="John Harrison"], @[member="Anaya Fen"], @[member="Val'Ryss Zankarr"], @[member="Jacen Cavill"], @[member="Zaiden"].

"I don't know about you all, but my shit filter is full. Time to end this."

Mikhail walked over to one of the speeder bikes the Strike team had used to arrive at the hotel. There were enough speeder bikes for all of them, obviously, seeing as how that was the method of transportation used to get there in the first place. He clambered onto the bike and zipped off. Moments later, he found @[member="Dark Onyx"]'s presence. He jumped off his speeder biked and moved in for the final confrontation.

"The Empire is tired of you running. And so am I. You won't get a second chance, so I'll tell you this one last time. Surrender now, or be impaled six ways to sundown by every single Sith on the planet. Your choice."

 

[Garza]

A white lightsaber came out of nowhere at Shorn. His armor may protect him but armor can alwasy break. A voice full of malice and anger rang out. "Fight me and we shall see who takes who." The voice had taken over Darrens body as he lay asleep in his mind healing from his wounds and tiredness. You could hear another lightsaber activate as the voice spoke. "Draw your weapons for the last time prick."

Darren was seeing what the voice did through his own eyes. He was suprised that the voice took a hating to the man. His force signature was hidden from all because technically he was knocked out. His phrik armor was covered in dust from the teleportation stunt he just pulled. He could hear the voices thoughts chanting over and over. "DEATH"

Darrens body began to walk out of the shadows towards Shorn. This was going to be a battl that would not be forgotten, because Darren was letting the voice have total control. Noting to cage the beast from within.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Mikhail parried the blade with an expert twirl of his wrist. The violet blade met Darren's white saber with a crackle of energy. Ozone filled the air. Shorn gritted his teeth. This would be a contest. But not one Darren could win so easily. Mikhail had come far since they last met, and even then Darren Shaw had not been able to beat him. They crossed blades again. Shorn didn't have any mortal enemies. Just people who pissed him off and he wanted dead. Shaw pissed him off.

"Prick, that's me." Mikhail replied. His eyes narrowed behind the visor. He sensed something within Darren.. "Oh great, looks like you finally made up your mind about which side of the Force to use." He smirked.

Before, Mikhail had been at a disadvantage with Shaw being clad in armor. This time, Mikhail had his own suit. And what was more, he had the Soulsaber. The two warriors stood toe-to-toe, their blades crackling violently in a contest of will. Shorn felt the darkness swirl about him, propelled by the miasma of energy emanating from the blade he held in his hands. The dragon's eyes seemed to glitter in the sudden flashes of light from the clashing of their sabers. It granted him the ability of Battlemind. Greater concentration. Enhanced commitment. An imperturbable force of will. And a constant feeling of being pissed off. Which, for a Sith, was all the fuel he needed.

Shorn's off hand bunched into a fist, gathering the Force about his hand tightly. He struck. The telekinetic punch soared for Darren's gut. At point blank range.

 

[Garza]

Darren was going toe to toe with the man. Their sabers clashed with power and anger. Shorns comment was laughed at as they battled. "I'm not a side of the force..." The blast came for Darrens stomach. It was seen before shorn did it. Darren sidestepped the blasts and kicked Shorns hand up. Darren slashed at Shorns exposed uper side right at the arm pit. "you see I am the force.".

Darren was getting stronger every second that passed. The voice was correct on being the force because it always adapted to the enviroment. It constantly learned from fighting, and blocking. He could feel the dark power coming from the soul saber. He knew about it through the thoughts of the voice. It can corrupt anything that touched it or was near it. Darren pulled the energy from the air to heal himself as Shorn fought his beast.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Shorn ignored the comments. Once two opponents were engaged, talking was a waste of time and a good way to get distracted and wind up wondering why a lightsaber suddenly sprouted from your chest. However, Force Users had an annoying habit of making ceaseless jibes despite the presence of danger. Clearly, they had all watched too many holovids. Fights weren't glamorous. They were a messy brawl full of grunts and blood. Shorn had seen more than his fair share. Far more. He'd been in the piss and mud, struggling hand to hand with enemy soldiers. He'd bayoneted a few. Watched them defecate themselves as they died. There had been no words then. Just precious gasps of air as they fought for every second of life. Clinging to it as a drowning man does. Desperate. No. There was nothing pretty about a fight.

The kick to Mikhail's hand caught him off guard. The hand flew up. He didn't need the danger sense tingling along his spine to warn him of the incoming lightsaber. He pivoted, swinging his body into the blade so that the side so that his right shoulder stood directly facing Darren, with an upraised violet blade to guard it. The move barely avoided the debilitating cut to his armpit. Instead of searing through flash, it ran along the outer rim of his armor, blackening more of the gray phrik.

He felt a massive pull of energy in the Force. Darren was healing himself. Shorn grimaced. He could feel the effects of the Soulsaber pulsing. If Darren truly was effected by its corruption, he would not be going back to the light anytime soon. However, Mikhail doubted that. The Dark Jedi Darren Shaw hardly seemed to pay attention to common conventions. His very existence and claims of duality in the Force were proof of that.

Mikhail moved in, saber swinging first for the neck, then for a thrust at Darren's groin. He followed it up with a round house kick toward Darren's knee.

 

[Garza]

Darren was not suprised that the attack was evaded. quickly the voice ducked the saber to his neck. With one sabe hed blocked the strike to his groin. Darren could feel the anger in Shorn through a red speck of light. Darren went for it thrusting his thoughts of pain into his mind. The voice was working overtime as he pushed with the force at the oncoming foot. The blades of white plasma came from the left, right, left then an upper cut.

to keep Shorn on his feet the voice stepped down rith his right foot between his foes feet and kicked to the side to take the feet out from under shorns center of bodymass

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Mikhail's blade was a blur. The violet bar hummed vibrantly, zipping through the air with what seemed like manic glee as it parried oncoming attacks toward him. Mikhail's Makashi style emphasized fluidity of motion, economy of movement, and precision... all things which Darren Shaw ignored in a rage filled attack. Several of the blows landed upon Mikhail's vambraces and pauldrons, scarring the armor deeply with blackened scores. Darren thought that using more than one saber gave him an advantage. This was incorrect. It required more concentration to wield and thus Darren's mental attack lacked the focus it needed to drive through Shorn's mind. Darren's thoughts of pain flashed in Mikhail's thoughts, however due to Darren already being absorbed in sending several lightsaber attacks Shorn's way along with a force push to keep the round house kick at bay, the mental assault affected Shorn little. Like a bug. A very irritating bug.

Darren moved to sweep Shorn's leg out, stepping between his feet and aiming a foot sweep. It would give Mikhail a painful groin stretch if it landed. Instead of moving to evade, Mikhail counter attacked. By stepping into Shorn's guard, Darren had brought himself extremely close to the man. At this range, their lightsabers were no use. Too long. Shorn lifted the foot that Darren sought to sweep and brought it up with a savage knee toward Darren's all-too-close groin, bolstered by the Force, it would not be so easily turned aside by a telekinetic push.

 

[Garza]

Darren's attacks were evaded with some ease on both fields. Darren was not the one swinging the deadly blades around. Infact he had no control over the body. It was the voice who was using his body as a vessel of battle. He was shocked when Shorn moved in for a hit to the groin. The body would not feel the pain however. Darren fabricated a force shield around his groin and head/neck area. As the knee came up The voices head came down to headbutt Shorn. Darren weakened a little as he blocked the pain from the groin and the head.

The voice sidestepped Shorn without a trace of being dazed because of darren. Both white blades came from ether side to meet in the middle where Shorns body would be.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Headbutting phrik is a very, very bad idea. The blow rang with tremendous force as their heads collided. Mikhail's head rang, but the foam padding inside protected him from any serious damage. He did not think he had a concussion, but head injuries were always hard to tell because of the nature of the wound. Mikhail's knee had connected with an invisible wall. Shorn's armor was a mess of criss-crossing lightsaber scores. As of yet, he had yet to land a single blow on Darren.

Twin blades shrieked toward either side of Mikhail's torso. Again, instead of countering them, Mikhail stepped in to attack. With his saber he thrust outward, aiming for the area just under Darren's right armpit where a gap was afforded for his blade. There was a hissing and spray of sparks as the lightsabers connected on either side of the phrik, searing deep into the armor. But not deep enough. Mikhail's lunge pushed forward, implacable. It would not be a killing blow, but it would be a blow nonetheless.

Mikhail Shorn regarded Darren Shaw with contempt. The man was a complete and utter hyprocite. For all his high minded talk of righteousness, he simply gave into the dark side. Further, he believed himself to be some sort of demi-god. While a common enough thing among the Sith, this display of incredible arrogance in a man claiming to be of the light was nothing short of despicable. He thought he was special, that for some reason destiny had chosen him as a sort of golden child. He was wrong. For all his talk and beliefs, Darren Shaw was just another average force user. One who seemed to use more lightsabers than anyone else Mikhail had ever met, but average nonetheless. He was nothing unique. Nothing to gape in awe at. He was nothing more than an insignificant cog in the grand scheme of things. As was Mikhail. They were both merely average force users. Not exceptional. Not more powerful than any who had come before. Just. Average. Yet, Mikhail wielded something unaverage. A sith artifact. The Soulsaber. Whatever possessed Darren now could not hold a candle beside the unholy darkness that streamed from the blade. And it was that blade that would make all the difference in this fight.

A burst of the Force against Darren sent Mikhail skidding backward. He did not know whether or not his blade had connected with the deluded Darren, but he was not going to waste time peer and wonder Oh, perchance did I strike a blow against thee? Darren needed to be crushed. Now. Atramentous might built within Mikhail. A seething mix full of the vile rage built like a wildfire within him. It was like a stray spark from a blacksmith's furnace, which Derriphan fanned until it set light to an entire forest, which now burned with such intensity that it blinded those who would look at it with its all consuming flames. The smoke from this terrible fire in his heart billowed out, a miasma of dark side energy that made the very air crackle. All of this was spurred on by Derriphan, the Soulsaber, for it seemed to have a mind of its own. A terribly cunning mind, full of malicious intentions. Whatever moved Darren to darkness was still nothing more than flesh and blood. It could not stand beside a nexus of dark side energy which had lasted throughout the millenia. Could not even hope to quell it.

The Soulsaber drew Mikhail into madness. More than once friend and foe had become indistinguishable to the Sith. And what friends did he really have? No, they were all foes. If any others were in the room he would have sought to crush them too. But as it was, only Darren Shaw stood to face him. And Darren would be the iron upon which the hammer of Mikhail's wrath fell. Piceous strength flowed outward from Mikhail. He lifted a single hand from where he stood, two paces from Darren. The full force of the Soulsaber was brought to bear, bringing Mikhail brilliant clarity of thought tinged with red-eyed rage. He gripped down on Darren. Piceous strength seemed to crush in on the man from all sides. Not on his armor, but his flesh. The force built and built as Mikhail crushed downward.

Darren would be tired after the effects of teleporting himself and his traitorous friend. More, he had been engaged with Zaiden in a duel before this. Whatever power Darren wielded it, it was not enough to so easily bat aside a Force Crush in full power and concentration. He would need every shred of power he had left to prevent his body from imploding inside that armor and leaving a slick, gooey mess. As it was, Mikhail could feel bones bending perilously. If he did not turn Darren to jelly, he would settle for a few broken bones. Traitors bones were brittle, he heard.

A sadistic, savage smirk slid snidely across Mikhail face behind his expressionless helm.

 

[Jacen Cavill]

Jacen was going to elaborate more on his thoughts, as well as act. Yet the ridiculousness of the events he had just witness were beyond his perception, or even anyone's definition of reality. "Well guess I've finally seen the most absurd and unrealistic thing ever. I'd have to say that this is impossible, and someone doesn't like being bullied finally."

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]