Into the Jaws of Death [OP Invasion of Sith-Occupied Coruscant]

[Balaya Praelior Zambrano]

[member="Feena Mason"]

Balaya felt the healing energies and her eyes opened groggily as she just laid there looking at the woman. Elara was there now and more things were happening. She even felt more invigorated. "You are good, now if only I could convince you to come with me and hear the glory of the dark lord healer. The Sith could offer you much, protection, power, servants."

 

[Feena]

Naboo's newest Queen smiled, unable to hide her amusement at that.

"Oh, I've already seen what is on offer. I shall have to pass."

It was true enough. There were only a very few that knew how Feenarah Mason spent her teenage years amongst the old Sith. It was just a phase, of course she would always say, 'teenage rebellion at it's finest'.

She pulled her hands away, discarded her bloody gloves and started packing up her medkit.

"You'll want to rest now. Your wounds will still take time to heal. Walking could re-open them, and I have quite enough to do as it is. Re-healing you would be such a bother..."

[member="Darth Praelior"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

LOCATION: [member="Darth Acarus"]' Arms (swoon)
ALLIES: One Sith, [member="Commander Orin"]
ENEMIES: Omega Protectorate, Mandalorians
OBJECTIVE: Temporary Death

Thankfully the soothing words of the medic were lost upon Terrano in a muffled haze, although given his stunted emotional growth it was very much doubted that he would have taken much offence in the first place.

Truth be told, when somebody is saving your life they can call you whatever they damn please, I don't know about all this slapping, mind you.

Piece by piece the shrapnel was removed, and in his dazed state he barely felt it, gritting his teeth when pain managed to break the barrier enough. Time became an abstract concept. His eyes fluttered lazily between the war-torn sky and the admittedly badass medic's face.

There was a taste of copper in his mouth.

Without warning a needle was jammed into his heart. He gasped. Life slowed to a standstill and the standstill faded to black, a certain coldness coming over his body and not one of typical frost either.

Hal Terrano was dead.

Nemene?

 

[Vulpesen]

Darth Tsolan's eyes widened as the golden orbs caught sight of the glint of sunlight on the glass. This is really gonna hurt. Keeping with his strike, having been fully commited, he tilted his body to take the stab into his arm. And, of course he was right. Immediately, a loud growl ripped through Vulpesen's throat, a snarl that [member="Canal Tal'Verda"] would undoubtedly hear as something inhuman. "Will you stop that!" His arm might have been burning and bleeding, but he still had strength in his grip, strength only enhanced by the adrenaline rush. With a sharp turn, Vulpesen allowed his arm to stay limp, using the momentum of the swirling to attempt to yank the other leg out of socket while throwing his opponent away.

 

[Bastian Briareos]

[member="Azrael"]

"We've lost visual on the target. Dipped low and out". The pilot of Echo 337 kept her going smooth and steady. Seemed this guy was going to get away.

"Alright, circle around this block. If we don't pick him up we need to get back to visual range of the Palace. It'd be quite the radioactive hell zone now. Command will need to know how bad things are though". Bastian wasn't feeling any need to keep the chase going past the small check. He'd more pressing events to tend to. Hell, he only went after him since that Sith Lord would probably want him dead for snatching her kill. Glory and all that, she's probably dead now too.

"Incoming"! Pilot pulled a hard right. Darn near ninety degrees.

Bastian's body was slammed against the interior of the ship. The crackling warning scream in his earpiece served ineffectively. No amount of grip would of held on to the handle for support. Not human anyways. Once again they banked. This time the enemy scored hits. One of the troopers was in pieces. Multiple holes clean through the door. "Kark. Pilot, get us level. We'll shoot them from the doors. Can't stay in the air long with them"!

"Affirmative"! Pilot leveled off and the doors slid open. Building surfaces whizzed by faster than the fire from behind them now.

Bastian pulled down his cap tighter as the wind tried to steal it. A quick scrape of the floor he was gun in hand, ready for revenge. No one took kindly to getting shot at; but it did open the favor to return such. As the men took aim out over the edge, only one of either side had a harness. The rest were gripping whatever they could with one hand and holding a gun in the other. Most fired wildly at these swoops. Pilot bobbed around, staying level as ordered, bud if he kept in a straight line they'd be crap quick. Bastian held from firing. His gun had limited ammunition. And he'd already used up much of what he could carry. 50. cal exploding shells may not be of much use for a personal weapon in a protracted fight, but most times when he needed a gun. It was quick, and the target was literally blown away. Aim was taken, his breath froze. One eye closed. Iron sights lining up. Trigger pull. Hammer. Ignition. Rifling spin. Recoil. And the shell traced an invisible line through the narrow skies of skyscrapers. Target hit. Penetration. Shell detonation. One foe no more on their way to kiss the ground for the last time. One down, three to go.

 

[Djorn Bline]

The blood that came out of the Sith put a big happy face on Canal. But a sinister smiley face. And he did hear the voice of the Sith and guessed he was some humanoid specie. Yet, it did not scare him. He had went through more things that were scary and unforgettable. The clone then had his next move in plan. He had been in multiple situation in which his leg got whenever he tried to kick, and he knew how to get out of those situations.

The commando bent his knee forward which resulted him getting somewhat closer to the Sith. It was always considered a bad thing whenever your leg was in a straight position because of the possible things that could happen. Then he felt a tug at his leg and then saw the Sith trying to throw him with the remaining strength in his arm. Luckily, his knee was bent which prevented his leg get out of its socket. But he did, discreetly, grabbed a detonator and once activated dropped where Tsolan was standing. The clone captain would have no problem with the grenade since he was getting hurled away from the Sith.

[member="Darth Tsolan"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Location: Skies of Coruscant
Allies: OS
Enemies: OP, [member="Kaiden 'Papa' Rohn"]

Moving to the cockpit, the Mon Calamari Sith glared through the window to witness the last moments of the majestic building, not knowing he was about to see another heroic action done by the liberators of Coruscant in the name of the oppressed citizens. The right eye slightly twitched as he turned on the recording, not having the moment the soldiers launched the rocket propelled grenade, but certainly catching it flying towards the shuttles with a trail of smoke giving away the one who fired it. The fast moving object soon disappeared out of the Sith's sight as it moved somewhere beside his shuttle, but the massive fireball that followed let everyone know it had hit one of the shuttles. Veles' ship shook violently and the pilots had to do their best to avoid being tossed into a wall as the shuttle's shields protected the passangers from the explosion happening outside. Immediately after getting the spacecraft under control, the pilots ascended out of the smoke and finally flew away from the destruction caused by the terrorist state.

Gunning down an evacuation shuttle full of civilians was low by any standards.

Unlike the majority of the passengers, Veles could feel the lives of everyone in the destroyed shuttle being extinguished in a second, the massive amount of death further empowering the Dark Side in the area. As if there were not enough tragedies for one day, the Protectorate apparently wished to liberate the people of Coruscant by killing them. While the dead truly no longer had to live under the rule of the Sith, the amphibious Sith Master somehow doubted this way of liberation would gain the Protectorate any sympathy. Quite the opposite.

The short video he had recorded would soon find its way to the Holonet, ready to be shared by billions of beings all over the galaxy.