Invasion Oderint Dum Metuant | The First Order Invasion of Galactic Alliance held Mustafar Hex

[Vexen]

https://gfycat.com/WholeLeanEmperorpenguin​

Atravis Sector | Rutan System | SIS security heightened

Trackers: [member="Micah Talith"] @Vexen
SIS Agents: [member="Kellyn Muir"] [member="Allyson Locke"]
Here for the drama: [member="Kaili Talith"]
Enemies: | [member=FN-888] [member=FN-4077]

---

Vexen froze for an instant at his call, instead of doing as she was told. Her eyes caught sight of the bolts as she tensed, preparing for the worse. It took aless than a heartbeat to realise the pain she expected wasn’t coming. Then she followed his instruction, darting forwards to get out of the line of fire. She heard the bolts lance across the space she had been occupying, following by the distinctive sound of a disrupter round hitting home.

The defel pressed herself down into the ground, trying to appraise the situation. However, that plan did not last long. An entire section of the tree trunk the disruptor rounds had hit were burned away. She heard a rustle and a creak and turned to see the tree falling towards her.

Swearing several times under her breath she leapt and tumbled over a fallen log, several branches whipped her back painfully and she tucked into a roll. Now the tree was between her and the other three combatants. The one she had struck was still screaming. Vexen pulled a small dart gun loaded with SmartTranq and carefully picked a path around the head of the fallen tree, peering through the branches and looking for the Scouttrooper. They were out of her line of sight. She tried to keep out of the firing line of the trooper with the disruptor, trusting Micah to deal with them, and edged towards the shouting.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Barkhesh.

Allies: The Galactic Alliance | [member="Aeron Kreelan"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member=Grozkalla] | [member="Bethany Kismet"]
Enemies: The First Order | [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"]

Objective: None for now.

The darkside was all around him as waves of fear and agony tried to rip him down.

It reminded him of the old days, when he had fallen so, so low and before Sardun managed to claw his way back up. But right in that moment of crux, when the scepter threatened to overwhelm him completely? Strength poured into him, warmth and calm serenity and patience.

It flowed from her to him and suddenly Michael knew that all would be well.

As well, as things could be, of course, because the Jedi Master was still running at Zambrano. It went too fast, there was no time to adjust much and all the Jedi could do was shift into the tackle. His shoulder slamming towards the large Sith's chest and taking the brunt of the staff against his shoulder.

The barrier... held, but only just.

There was pain flaring up behind his gritted teeth, but the nothing had been broken. Yet. All Sardun did was redouble his strength to slam Kaine against a nearby wall - within close quarters his strength was difficult to break.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Location: Darth Vader's castle; the lower catacombs
Objectives: Secure the castle
Allies At Location: [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Ara Ren"] | [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] | KoR/FO
Enemies At Location: [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Elpsis Elaris"] | GA
Engaging Enemy: [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"]
Gear:{In Sig} Ren Attire / Cloak

--

Connor watched. Violence erupted in the constraints of the cavern and the tunnelled entrance of it.

Glaring flashes of energy bolts, the sizzle of lightsabers and the spark of armour on armour. There was little he could do regardless of what he wanted, and so he kept his eyes forward and his aura attuned. Ara was dangerously close to Taeli, and it bothered him. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

The armoured warrior moved and pulled a data spike from the entrance console, wired into the castle above through the rock and iron. Whatever was on it, it didn’t belong to these...vigilante. The console, or the chip. A flaming sword was soon aiming at the console; the warrior was ready to strike.

Small chunks of debris rained down from above them from the rocky ceiling as blasts were heard around them. It was reaching fever pitch. Connor glanced at the warrior and made a snap decision.

"Samka - the console,” he spoke to her mind.

Simple and direct, she would do what she could whilst he would do what he could with the power within.

His arm lurched out for that data spike, hand clawed out with that talon-like grip in the Force Lord Abyss had taught him to use. His focus was on the data spike to pull it from her grasp, and all his concentration went into that grip; no weapon or alternate attack, just getting that data and hoping the console survived.

If not...well, one out of two wasn’t all bad.

 

[Pharazon Draken]

[SIZE=11pt]Location: Mustafar, Ashflats in Vicinity of Frontrunner Crash Site[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Sub-Location: (In Vicinity of, but not present at): Mensix Mining Facility[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Allies in Scene: First Order & Allies, [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Irajah Ven"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"][/SIZE]

• [SIZE=11pt]Allies In Vicinity: [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="Commander Lusk"] | [member="BE-183"] | [member="Heidi Ziegler"] | [member="AR-3752"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Enemies in Scene: Galactic Alliance & Allies | [member="Choli Vyn"] | [member="Elliot Locke"] | [member="Asmus Janes"][/SIZE]

• [SIZE=11pt]Enemies in Vicinity: [member="HK-36"] | [member="Ultimatum"] | [member="Draco Vereen"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Objective: Advance, Discover, Resolve[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Personal Equipment: [/SIZE]FO-02 Stormtrooper Armor, F-11D Blaster Rifle, Bayonet, Combat Knife, SE-44C blaster pistol, x4 Thermal Detonators, x1 M1-VX "Vee Ex" Grenade, x3 M1-NR "Nerve" Autoinjectors.

[SIZE=11pt]Unit Equipment: [/SIZE](for general reference and flavour purposes only): FO-02 Stormtrooper Armor | F-11D Blaster Rifles | FWMB-10 Repeating Blasters (select troopers) | T-7 ion Disruptor Rifles (select troopers) | Bayonets | Combat Knives | Thermal Detonators | Standard Concussion Grenades | x1 FI-H8b: Hussar Command Speeder | x8 FI-C9v: Cuirassier Assault Repulsortanks

Post: 11

[SIZE=11pt]“He’s dead, Doctor” Pharazon stated grimly almost dejectedly as he began to apply his combat first aid and trauma training as best he could to Doctor [member="Irajah Ven"], not even sparing a glance for the now shattered and broken body of the trooper Doctor Ven had sought to aid before the airstrike. I have failed him… I will not fail her [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]the thoughts drove him onward, filling his every movement with grim determination.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Blaster bolts and anti-tank rounds filled the air, a cacophony of war and death. Another two repulsortanks, battered and scarred from the fighting were dispatched in great and terrible explosions as anti-tank rounds from the defiant till the last Alliance lines and anti-tank teams ripped through their shattered shields and broken armour into their power cores and ammunition stores. As Pharazon’s hands worked at addressing the superficial wounds of the valiant Doctor, he began issuing orders to his platoon officers, to the tank commanders. Ordering them forwards as fast as they were able to move as a cohesive unit to ensure the tanks could cover the infantry and the infantry could maintain their assault against the Alliance infantry and their anti-tank weaponry teams. He received crisp and determined confirmations from his officers. They were bloodied, but they were not broken. The ash tarnished white armour of the Stormtroopers was perpetually shrouded in baleful red, blue, and green flashes, a horrific shadow and light play silhouetting Stormtrooper and repulsortank as they fired, brutally and efficiently upon the Alliance ground forces, shuttles, and gunships. Stormtrooper platoons and squads supported each other with overlapping fields of fire, they covered each other as they moved with discipline and precision along with the tanks, maintaining an assault formation as they inexorably and grimly advanced toward the Alliance lines.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Solid copy ma’am, the 189th and remaining repulsortanks have begun to advance” Pharazon said over his communicator to Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"]. “We are experiencing heavy resistance from Alliance ground troops and air support, but I have ensured the formation has not broken, Stormtroopers have begun to engage and eliminate their anti-tank teams and I have several of the remaining repulsor’s watching for the return of the X-Wings with their anti-air missiles” Pharazon continued reporting, voice firm and considered, if laboured and slightly coarse due to his attention on Doctor Ven and his apparent extensive bruising he sustained from being thrown through the air and slamming into the ash from a laser blast.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Doctor Ven has been injured but is not critical, will update you should her status change, please advise with any additional orders” Pharazon finished grimly but determined.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Turning now to focus on the Doctor’s uncovered face, finishing with his first aid and treating her obvious injuries as best he could with his combat medical equipment, “I’ve done all I can, I hope you will forgive me for my likely mediocre medical skills and for ordering you once again, but I feel I must insist you accompany me into the command speeder, perhaps we shall both stay in there this time” Pharazon said, adopting a cheery yet sympathetic and considerate tone and intonation, smiling at her underneath his helmet. If talking like a Hapan dandy and relaxing military communication discipline slightly could help Doctor Ven even the slightest, Pharazon would do it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He was not entirely sure why he was suddenly so genuinely concerned for the Doctor. He had killed countless people coldly and brutally, uncaring, ordered the deaths directly or indirectly of a similar number, seen many more die in horrific ways and yet not felt the slightest emotional response. But here, a doctor who he had only just met and knew nothing about, a doctor he had effectively patronised and suspected had a rather poor opinion of him, he felt a compulsion to aid. He did not think her incapable of aiding herself, on the contrary, Pharazon suspected her undeniable skill and admirable character was what had triggered his connection. As he looked at her, in a likely perceptibly cold manner from behind his skull like helmet, he saw echoes of his sister. At the memories of her that then arose as he signalled the command speeder quickly over to their position, battle still raging all around them, the screams of the dying and the horrific sounds of weaponry forcing Pharazon to control his reverie. Regardless of anything else, Pharazon had been charged with Doctor Irajah Ven’s protection, and Pharazon hated failure above nearly all else.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As the command speeder stopped before them, a squad of Pharazon’s Stormtroopers surrounded it and as such Pharazon and Ven. Looking up, Pharazon saw the shuttle that had so unnerved him, it was clearly badly damaged, apparently gliding it surged toward an area close to Pharazon’s formation. Much of the Imperial’s fire was directed elsewhere, so the shuttle was relatively ignored in it’s emergency descent, but Pharazon watched it, fixed his eyes upon it. If it comes down I will know who… what… pilots it, I must know… I must know what they are, why I feel… What I am… [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Pharazon thought, realising immediately that he needed to control himself, it was irrelevant, he would extract answers from the pilot, or they would die in the crash.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He shook his head slightly, dispersing the thoughts as he returned to his duty. Looking away and to the speeder, he refocused on his immediate task, leading his Stormtroopers and protecting the Doctor. “Private, help me get the Doctor into the Command speeder” he barked at one of the troopers. “Cain, Solarus, Tauron, Lacroix keep up the pressure on the anti-tank teams” he order over the comm to the Stormtrooper platoons before switching to a formation wide channel, “I want immediate reports on X-Wing sightings, they will be coming back around soon enough, I want at least three tanks constantly anti-air focused” he regained composure. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]I know what I am, who I am, I will not allow a petty feeling to challenge me.[/SIZE]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

​

Location: Mustafar, Vader's Castle​

Allies: Galactic Alliance​

Enemies: First Order​

Directly Engaging: [member="Castor Ren"]​

​

Tremors shot through Jamie's body as Castor lifted her from the ground, and again she cried out, feeling the sharpness of the blade angle inwards against the thin fabric of the shirt covering her back. Naturally she had tried pressing herself closer to the man and limit the shifting of her back to prevent the blade from cutting her, though even as she drew her body closer, the press of the sword came with. Her teeth bit down against each other, her freed and bloodied hand scraping and scratching at anything fleshy on the man's face to force her release from his death grip. It was her only chance of escape. He was simply too strong for her to otherwise get away. When finally her fingernails had caught the delicate orb that was his eye she felt the man reel in pain, dropping her almost immediately back to the stone floor beneath her.

Though in the same moment the steel blade dragged a sharp path across her back, cutting her terribly from end to end just beneath the shoulder blades. A burning shriek came pouring from her strained lungs that echoed and reverberated through the library as if a thousand spirits were wailing in unison. Her hand dropped Daylight to the floor, all thoughts of fighting, of anything really, fled her mind, replaced only with crippling pain as she stumbled back three steps. A warm trickle slid down the length of her back, sticking her shirt completely to her body. Nearly every muscle in her body tensed before the man's heel rose and thrust forward into her chest. Castor had caught her in the lowest rib on her right side, very likely fracturing it or worse.

Jamie's eyes rolled back as inexplicable pain nearly sent her into a blackout. Even screaming was now all but impossible as her burning lungs forced air through her lips, though the only sound to be heard was the oxygen leaving her body, all the while she fell to the floor, gasping for air. The girl's head fell forward, obscured by the blonde hair that draped in front of her features, looking down to her lap, assuming azure eyes were even open. The only sound coming from her was the desperate, stuttered attempts to breathe. Blood covered her from the chest down, stained along the floor and over her clothing. Her lightsaber had fallen several feet away, resting by the Ren's feet. For another moment she lingered before raising her chin, lips shaking, soft sapphire eyes settling on Castor's once again.

No words came, she hadn't the ability to formulate them. Her body demanded the oxygen her lungs still breathed.

 

[H3xle]

​

Alyce and her fellows exited hyperspace and spiraled down into the gravity well of Mustafar.

"Alliance command, this is Rogue Eight inbound with reinforcements. Request inbound vector on hot spot." She radioed in as she made her way towards Mensix Mining.

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Location: Mustafar
Allies: Aka'liit/Order of the Sacred Lotus ([member="Joza Perl"] [member="Hazel Zanteres"])
Enemies: Mob
Objective: Security

Was the Zeltron a Mandalorian due to her broken Mando'a? If they weren't in this situation, Vilaz would've made a comment that reflected on Joza's usage of the Mandalorian tongue and tell her to get better at it. But right now there was an angry mob at their feet which needed to be settled down with whatever method. "That may be the case, vod, but I am here to make sure that you guys are safe from harm. And these people are just asking for it."

And they really were. So far no conflict had happened except someone being punched, but the Mand'alor did not want his people or his clients being harmed.

After Hazel was done giving her honest speech to the mob the Munin casually freed his arm from Joza's hand and then took a step forward at the mob, his warriors simultaneously following their Sole Ruler's actions. "I'm not going to ask again. Lay down your weapons and step back." Was it a bad idea for the Concordian to show his dominance over the mob? Perhaps, but it would be a bad call for the angry mob to retaliate. Crowd controlling wasn't something common for the Mandalorian, but whenever he had a job like that he did it without a regret.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Location: Vader's Castle - moving to Sith Catacombs again!
Objective: Purge stuff
Allies: [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"], [member="Taeli Raaf"]
Enemies: [member="Samka Derith"], [member="Connor Harrison"], [member="Ara Ren"]. Engaging Samka.
Gear: Beskar armour (in sig) + ARGH jets, bolter, hard sound carbine, magnetic revolver, anti-forcer + forcebreaker grenades, lightsabre.


The thermic lance had not worked as anticipated, but Taryc was already busy wrecking the console and Taeli was battling the other Ren woman. Elpsis was very confident that they could handle things fine on their end, so she concentrated on her own battle.


Ironically, Connor Harrison might recognise the suit of armour the Firemane Adept wore, for it was the old beskar'gam of Siobhan Kerrigan. The Kerrigan. The armour also bore the predictably fiery logo of the Order of Fire, Firemane's in-house Force-using branch. Equally he might recognise the girl's aura, for Elpsis had fought alongside Firemane and Coalition troops during the battle of Boz Pity. She'd been a different person then. Still uncertain of her place and searching for her purpose. She'd come a long way since then. Her search was finally forever.


Within these catacombs, the darkness was strong. It permeated the air. The whispers of ghosts promised power and glory to those willing to give in. She shut them out and focused upon her opponent, the blonde Ren girl. A fire had been stoked inside her belly. Burning, unyielding faith filled her. She took a step back. The sonic had been discarded. Her lightsabre flew into her grasp and ignited with a snap-hiss, producing a beam of orange light. A volley of pointed rocks came her way as the Ren turned the stalagmites on the ceiling against her.


Some rocks bounced off her armour, others hit with enough kinetic force to inflict bruises upon her body, one was lucky enough to strike an armpit and cut into it, for, as with any armour, the joints lacked the heavy plating. Pain shot through her as the rocky spike pierced flesh and drew blood, but she maintained her footing, never wavering. A mental jolt surged through her skull as she received a flare of precognition.


When Samka leapt through the air with a battle cry, coming at her like a twirling human-shaped bullet at amazing speed, Elpsis was ready. The Firemane operative was not a blademistress - Taryc's swordplay was a lot better than hers. Mostly, she stuck to the basics and considered sabreplay to be a supplement to her elemental and mental gifts. But she knew what worked and what was theatrical. Her beskar armour was very resistant to lightsabre attacks. Samka's sabre went for Elpsis' chest, where the protection was very strong. As it were, Elpsis intercepted it. Wielding her burning orange blade in one hand, she parried the lightsabre stab and drove the blade aside.


In one fluid motion, a massive fireball burst from her free hand and swept towards Samka at point blank range. So hot was the scalding, blindingly bright wave, that the colour of the flames was a near incandescent white. The intense, cleansing blast of heat and flame was meant to envelope and cook the Ren alive. Fire was Elpsis' element and this was Mustafar, a hellish world of fire and brimstone.

 

[Progflaw99]

​

--- --- ---​

Location: Mustafar, Vader's Castle​

Allies: First Order & Allies​

Enemies: Galactic Alliance & Allies​

​

Engaging: [member="Jamie Pyne"]​

​

In Vicinity:​

[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Ara Ren"]​

[member="Kaalia Voldaren"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Abraxas"]​

[member="Connor Harrison"]​

[ Theme ]​

--- --- ---​

​

As his foot came down to the floor he took the time to raise his free hand to his eye, the pain still clouding his mind as he struggled to clear his eye of blood from the nails of the woman. A vile sneer cut across his features as he staggered slightly. His own arm wasn't responding as well as he would have liked but his sword hand dangerously flicked the blade upwards. The girl was out of his reach at the moment, but that could be rectified easily. Brushing the back of his free hand to clear the blood from his face, he spat, baring his teeth at the girl as he watched her recover from her fall - the pain emanating from her fueled the Ren. He'd heard the cries, he'd seen how she now sat, breathing. The fight was quickly draining from her and yet.. shaking his head he cleared his mind, focusing once more on the task at hand.

Death wasn't always the worst punishment, nor torture, and while the Dark Side seemed to crave and hunger for pain Castor found himself at a crossroads. Surely to simply let the girl leave now that she appeared to be bested. From all appearances he would have counted the woman out, unable and unwilling to provide further resistance but the Ren wasn't easily goaded. Perhaps she really was weary, he'd had the advantage of armor, prepared for inevitable combat where she had not. Even so, he knew there was something further he could take from her - something that would ensure her will was crushed. Carefully sheathing the sword, eyes boring into the girl he knelt, picking up the Jedi's weapon.

​As his hand touched the hilt his mind hemorrhaged, pain driving into his very being. It caught him off guard. Often the lightsaber was referred to as one of the most intimate of weapons, the creation of such a weapon creating a bond between itself and its creator - Castor felt the bond then, the strange alien feel to the hilt in his hand. Despite the discomfort, he advanced forward.

Stepping towards her slowly at first, one solitary step as his gaze met hers. A gaze filled with hatred, malcontent, violence. Then, as swiftly as he had before he approached, gloved hand coming down to reach for the hair atop the girl's head, the snap-hiss of the girl's blade activating to his side. Long had it been a sign of shame, a sign of subservience, a sign of loss - to have one's hair forcefully removed by an enemy. *Ironic* thought Castor to himself, his own shaven scalp in contrast to the girl's golden locks. To see them cut short, burned away by the woman's own blade would be a victory in and of itself. Dignity. It was more than the loss of a well fought duel, more than the loss of life, it was humiliation at the hands of an enemy, something that could not be easily forgotten - and so he would try. Should he grasp the golden hair between his fingers, he would free her of it.

Spoiler

Castor Ren's Equipment

Armor: Armour of Ren

Weapons:

• Krigsgaldr - The Ashen Blade (Sheathed)
• C-51 Charric Pistol (Holster, small of back)
• EE-3 Carbine Rifle (Resting on ground)
• "Daylight" (Ignited)

Explosives: (In Pack/Attached)

• Flex-5 Detonite Tape (2 Rolls)
• 2 x Glop Grenades
• 1 x Cryoban Grenade

 

[Taeli Raaf]

​

Vader's Castle​

Allies: [member="Elpsis Elaris"] [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"]​

Enemies: [member="Connor Harrison"] [member="Ara Ren"] [member="Samka Derith"]​

​

Directly Engaging: Ara​

Gear: In signature​

​

Taeli had to fight the smile as the girl temporarily disengaged, a nugget of information obtained. The girl's attire was somewhat resistant to a lightsaber, good to know. And she appreciated the girl knowing to regroup and refocus on her after such a close call. As she spoke, Taeli really had to fight the smile... well smirk that wanted to form. Oh if only this girl knew what all she had done for Connor in recent weeks. She came in again, going for two quick jabs of the saber towards her upper torso, then following up with an arcing slash to her legs.

As she stabbed forward, Taeli's blades changed the direction they were spinning to intercept the two jabs towards her torso while Taeli backed up to avoid the slashing arc. She had good form, that was for sure. It was truly a pity that the girl's talents were wasted on such an organization as the First Order and the Knights of Ren. So much potential, such a pity. But she couldn't very well voice that out loud, now could she.

If the girl had done her research, or just asked Connor, she would know Taeli was a believer in minimal offense until an opening presented itself and only after she had learned about her opponent. Until then, she was a believer in staying on the defense. So, to that end, she would give ground to the girl by a few steps, keeping her spinning blades in a defensive posture. All the while, she was analyzing... observing... noting...

 

[Kriel Firin]

Vader's Castle

[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

The preening and posturing over, the two were engaged in a fight now. And already Talon Ren felt comfortable. It was a hard sensation to describe, but he never felt more alive than when his life was on the line. It was in these moments that he truly believed he understood why he was put in this galaxy.

To duel.

And already it felt like the sort of epic fight that you were taught by battle-weary Knights. But in Talon’s mind, the encounters were magical in as much as they were about two people and two sabers. The duels he studied most often were not fought with tricks or strange powers — and certainly not with toys and fancy armour. His own suit was little more than a costume, it merely housed the means to keep his burns medicated.

No, he relished the moment when he could lock sabers with someone who understood the beauty in the simplicity of a duel. And maybe, just maybe, he’d found one now.

He was unsure, but given his opponent was a light-sider and from the strong defence he’d already shown, Talon Ren surmised that he was most likely facing someone who favoured the third Form. His mind checked the known weaknesses of the style. Firstly it was non-offensive and relied on wearing down the opponent. But more importantly, the defence was designed to counter against all-out assaults. He had been taught that the correct approach to counter Soresu was powerful attacks that were tempered by caution. His opponent would need to expend energy to fend him off without finding any openings to exploit.

So it was a surprise that his opponent looked to attack him so early. If nothing else, it made sure Talon Ren took nothing for granted. The Knight of Ren parried the blow, two-handed, and pushed the light-sider’s blade outwards, so as not to expose himself to a counter to the move.

And he noted the man in the exoskeleton immediately returned to a defensive position. Talon Ren knew he was being tested…probed.

So he allowed his mind to focus on his opponent and let the Force dictate his movements. He had literally hundreds of combination attacks in his repertoire and he cycled through them, not allowing any one to be seen as a favoured move.

And he started with a simple one — a sweep at his opponent’s left knee, followed by an overhead swing at his right shoulder.

 

[Elmont Block]

Gear: Slightly burned and very crumpled robes
Allies in vicinity: Hard to tell
Enemies in vicinity: [member="Kaalia Voldaren"]
Engaging directly: Kaalia (of course)

"Use your opponents' strategies against them and you take away their power. Get your opponents to lose their grace, and they will lose their purpose. Do not meet hate with hate. Meet it with purpose."
― Qui-Gon Jinn

If there was one thing that Elmont remembered from his time as a Youngling it was that duels either ended after a few seconds or they went on for some time. And given the sprint was out of the question, he was ready for a marathon.

And that meant he was pacing himself. His opponent may have been fresh before she encountered him, or may have battled to reach this far. For his part, he’d used his Force energy sparingly and he figured that all of the pyrotechnics must be draining, as well as shrinking her Force aura.

And the Force may be infinite — but a Force-users drawing power was not. And as he figured he was not up against a Master, he knew that if he bided his time and allowed her to fatigue her Force powers, he’d have the upper hand later, if not sooner.

And as if to prove his point, the woman called on the Force once more and he merely held his nerve and trusted in the Force.

As she approached him, he switched to Soresu and chose to simply defend and parry, not looking to strike but instead to prolong the fight. And as he did, he could not help but point out her strategy to her. “Some impressive tricks. But tell me, how long can you keep them up and maintain a saber duel?”

It was a fair and honest question.

 

[Jamie Pyne]

​

Location: Mustafar, Vader's Castle​

Allies: Galactic Alliance​

Enemies: First Order​

Directly Engaging: [member="Castor Ren"]​

​

It seemed what she'd done to his face was enough to draw his attention for a few moments. Hardly enough for her to recuperate any meaningful amount to pose a threat, but at least enough for her to assess her own situation and catch a few short breaths. Everything hurt. Pain racked her body, chest in particular. The gash across her upper back ran fresh trails of crimson that pooled beneath her on the floor. Jamie's left hand sat idle in her lap, useless for just about anything. She watched from the floor as Castor sheathed his own sword and knelt down, retrieving her weapon. When he looked again to her, the appearance he gave off was ghastly. A fire born of hatred and anger burned in his eyes, the scowl to his features frightening. The Jedi pushed along the floor by using her feet and single good hand away from him, though there was hardly a means of escaping the man.

Her head shook slowly from side to side when he approached, as if in some sort of silent plea. A furious grip took hold at the top of her head, and with it a collection of blonde hair. And with that grip came an incredibly painful tug that brought her forward with a small, brief cry. Jamie's right hand rose in reaction, grabbing the Ren by his wrist to try and prevent him from pulling any further. Her body rose slightly from the floor to try and get any measure of slack but he simply pulled harder, echoing another cry.

The snap-hiss of her saber, her saber, not in her own hand made the woman flinch. The hand at his wrist was hardly one of any considerable force. The fact that it was there was even rather surprising given her own exhaustion. Jamie remained otherwise limp before him, having lost the will to further resist him, the adrenaline within her expired. The familiar sound of the blade humming through the air made the Jedi flinch once more, though what she had expected was the rather violent contact between her bare skin and the weapon she had wielded against him when in fact it was quite different, and comparatively worse. There was a second of pause, but no pain came and she fell crashing back to the floor with a small thud. Her right hand crossed to the left to brace against the floor, though as she turned her head once more to look at Castor, she could see that a part of her was still in his hands, a handful of her hair had been severed.

As if the rest hadn't been enough.

She didn't cry. She didn't scream or yell. In fact, of all the injuries thus far, that had been the least painful in terms of physical injuries. That one was intended to be a mental wound, one that would inflict a more personal injury to her pride, self conscious, and appearance. It disfigured her, though not permanently, but certainly in the immediate future. If there was to be one, that is.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Vader's Castle​

Enemies: [member="Erinyes Draclau"] [member="Ty Rellius"] GA​

Directly Engaging: [member="Aver Brand"]​

Allies: [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Cameron Centurion"] FO​

Gear: Life Support Armor, Lightsaber​

Objective: Kill the Jedi and Secure the Castle​

​

Kyrel landed in front of his enemy swiftly he couldn't tell who was underneath that armor weather it was man woman alien or human, that did not matter to him for all he cared was seeing his foe dead at his feet and he would have that soon enough. He chopped the sonic rifle with ease, and was surprised when his foe did not respond with banter that the GA were so far at dishing, nonetheless it did not matter as it was just the two of them and nothing more. He became surprised as he tried to cleave into the beings hands only to be stopped short when his lightsaber couldn't cut through the material no matter their were more than one way to kill someone and he would see to the most excruciating death he could give. He was than hit with a stun bolt from what he could tell Ssi-Ruuvi stun bolt he laughed to himself mentally as he watched the sheer audacity this person had at hitting him with tech he was familiar with. The First Order had been at war with the beings long enough to allow scientists to get past such crude weapons.

As he was hit with the stun bolt, he let out a dark chuckle through the vocabulater as he was filled with pain but allowed the pain to fuel his rage, his rage gave him strength and even his self loathing contributed to this factor allowing his will in the dark side to get past as he willed his mechanical limbs but his mechanical limbs weren't affected, his chest with whatever was left of his nervous system and started twitching, despite the twitching the stun bolt gave him he could still move his mechanical limbs as they weren't affected/, as Kyrel had been through much since his near death on Kaeshana that if he could almost suffer a defeat by the hands of a Firemane Padawan he killed than he could get past a stun bolt. Than the figure tried to stick an explosive but noticed that it simply wouldn't stick to the armor as it was clearly missing something. He took the opportunity to jump out of her path several feet away from him as the charge dropped to the ground inoperable.

He moved cautiously circling around him readying himself to move in, he cursed himself for the clumsy mistake he almost made, As he went speeding into a different part of the corridor, he used burst of speed to attempt to catch up, and attempted to force push him into a wall, while he would hopefully be stunned he attempted to attack him with a vertical slash attempting to cut him in half or attempted in penetrating his armor.

 

[Progflaw99]

​

--- --- ---​

Location: Mustafar, Vader's Castle​

Allies: First Order & Allies​

Enemies: Galactic Alliance & Allies​

​

Engaging: [member="Jamie Pyne"]​

​

In Vicinity:​

[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Ara Ren"]​

[member="Kaalia Voldaren"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Abraxas"]​

[member="Connor Harrison"]​

[ Theme ]​

--- --- ---​

​

The sneer which had been painted across his features turned to a pointed grin as the realization of what he'd done was expressed in the girl's features. In that moment he had channeled the deepest darkest desires of the Dark Side, reveling in it, embracing it wholly. Embracing the Dark Side so fully had its drawbacks however, the intense hatred forming dark lines around the man's eyes as he stood, hair in hand. Opening the fingers of his left hand the hair fell, strands drifting to the floor, the subtle hum of the blade filling the room. Behind the Ren lay his bag, the heavy strap having been torn free as Jamie had thrown it across the room towards him earlier in their encounter. Oblivious, he tucked the blade just beneath the girl's chin, forcing her to look upwards and meet his gaze.

"You have acquitted yourself well for a Jedi - but your body fails you now. I offer you a final opportunity to withdraw. You see, we are the children of Sieger, his Knights of Ren - Sith we are not."​

​

Taking a half step away from the girl but keeping her in view he twirled Daylight in the air, the blade cutting through the air as no doubt the woman had done on her own on more than on occasion. A satisfied smirk began to form at the corners of the Ren's lips. The girl's weapon was constructed well, the balance well measured, the shortened blade allowing mobility over the Ren's own alchemized sword. It was by no means a weapon Castor himself would have made, far too ornate, the wooden grips too impractical for his tastes - but to deny its purpose was to be a fool. The blade had not been constructed for the purpose of killing, that much was evident, or else the confrontation may have turned out differently.

"I am content to let you live, though your saber will remain in my possession. As for Mustafar... In the name of Sieger Ren, it will submit, or it will burn."​

​

An interesting concept, that a perpetually burning world would be razed - though in truth there were yet settlements, cities even that no doubt would burn if the world were not to submit, if the Alliance would not withdraw, if the First Order did not prevail. To the Ren's rear still rested the bag. With the flap partially open, the narrow profile of a cylinder could be seen, a light blue indicator just visible beneath the material. A cryoban grenade rest carefully inside, though now free of the bag. As Castor twirled the blade once more, his eyes examined the girl's expression, waiting for her response.

​

Spoiler

Castor Ren's Equipment

Armor: Armour of Ren

Weapons:

• Krigsgaldr - The Ashen Blade (Sheathed)
• C-51 Charric Pistol (Holster, small of back)
• EE-3 Carbine Rifle (Resting on ground)
• "Daylight" (Ignited)

Explosives: (In Pack/Attached)

• Flex-5 Detonite Tape (2 Rolls)
• 2 x Glop Grenades
• 1 x Cryoban Grenade

 

[Kuzo]

Location: Ashflats near the crash of the Frontrunner
Allies in scene: [member="Pharazon Draken"] [member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Rexus Wenck"]
Enemies nearby: [member="Choli Vyn"] [member="Elliot Locke"] [member="Asmus Janes"]

When his words 'He's dead' finally pierced the mental fugue, that was when Irajah stopped trying to struggle into a sitting position. It wasn't so much that she relaxed as gave up that struggle as she sunk back against the ground. She blinked owlishly up at the white mask of his helmet. She couldn't see the expression on his face, and the helmet muffled so much inflection.

She had thought that she had gotten that trooper out of the way in time. Not even hoped, but believed that she had. She had gotten him out of the way instead of herself. And it hadn't meant anything anyway. She could have died right then and there, and no matter what, he still wouldn't have made it.

Another weight fell on the certain side of the mental scale. Another experience added to the slowly dipping prospect of 'Always protect yourself first,' as it was gradually pulling 'Protect others' further into the shadows. No single event was enough to tip the scale completely and utterly. But each added to the imbalance, drawing it farther and farther down.

It didn't help that keeping herself alive did protect others.

Gideon.

As Captain Draken checked her over, running a line of liquid over the gash in her head to seal the wound she just watched him in silence. It was hard to parse out, even in her own mind, how much was the disappointment of that realization and how much was the head wound. That confusion told her that a lot of it was probably the head wound.

Once again, it took a moment for her to filter his words out of the ashen air and between her own thoughts. She blinked hazel eyes slowly, wondering for a moment whatever had happened to her helmet (ah yes) before responding, her words a little distant and hazy around the edges. It lacked the firm confidence of before, but that was to be expected given the situation.

"I don't think I'm in any position to argue orders," she said faintly.

One of the other troopers lifted her up carefully and headed into the command speeder as directed. It wasn't a medical transport, but they did their best to make her comfortable. Being upright caused a wave of dizziness and nausea.

"Concussion," she muttered absently to no one in particular.

"Don't let me sleep."

She leaned heavily against the inside curve of the wall, closing her eyes for a moment.

 

[Aela Talith]

Location: Roof of Vader's Castle
Objective: Contact Allies
Allies: GA Folks
Enemies: [member="Mishel Ren"](Closest) | FO

For a few moments Aela found herself on an odd little scavenger hunt.

Unsurprisingly, the roof of a Sith Castle wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world to navigate. It seemed that this place was through and through thought out as a fortress, rather than a lovely palace. That meant the roof was filled with spikes, towers, odd shapes, and well pretty much everything else you could think of that was difficult to traverse. So in effect Aela, while searching for an exit to the roof, wandered through a maze. Her lips thinned as she moved, her eyes flicking from place to place.

"Should've come down by the entrance." She mumbled to herself as she continued forward.

"Damn Sith." The Jedi Marshall said as she swung around a small spike like tower. "Really need to learn architecture."

She continued to wander, eventually reaching a flat part of the roof and venturing forward. Her lips thinned as she spotted something in the distance, what appeared to be a...door! The Jedi Master grinned to herself and broke out into a sprint, reaching the door within a matter of moments and reaching out to open.

Just before she could though the door suddenly popped open.

"SHIT." Aela said, barely stopping herself from crashing into the girl behind the door.

 

[Joza Perl]

At Hazel’s speech and Vilaz’s assertion, the crowd was beginning to agitate even further. They collectively stumbled back a pace or so as the armored men shifted forward, a few cries of fear escaping into the dry Mustafar air. “They’re First Order sympathizers, Hajh!” An irate voice called out, aimed at the older man who’d engaged the Silver Lotus. A few more jeers broke from the group, the Mandalorian’s demand and minor advance causing more unrest.

Hajh heard the angry cries of his people, his peers, his family behind him. He did not turn to address them however, keeping his eyes on [member="Hazel Zanteres"] as he did nothing to hold back his blatant scrutiny of the woman and the cause she’d come here to pursue.

“You,” He began, voice steady with experience but layered with hardness. “Come here with intent to help the invaders of our home, and expect to be welcomed with open arms?” A chorus of supportive cheers, albeit mean-spirited erupted from behind him. Hajh placed a single hand to the side, palm flat as a signal for them to simmer down. “Furthermore, you have brought these warmongers into our city under the guise of relief aid.” His gaze wandered over [member="Vilaz Munin"] and his men, unyielding in the face of Mandalorian warriors and the prospect of a very quick death. “We demand that you leave us in peace!”

It was at this juncture where Joza chose to step forward. She’d recognized the mix of fear and rage that ebbed from the crowd, which was not too far from being sent into a panic. Thankfully Hajh wielded enough respect to contain them for now, and without him things would have likely sped downhill faster.

“Understood.” The Zeltron planted herself beside Hazel, arms clasped behind her back as she met Hajh’s unyielding gaze. “We will depart from Mustafar proper. Several crates of water, rations and medical supplies have been unloaded into the city rec center. I trust that your people will put them to good use.” As she spoke, the Heka unit began to reorganize themselves away from the mob.

Half-turning to the size, she focused on Vilaz with no measure of amusement in her eyes. “We’ll be relocating this operation just beyond the northern city limits.” There would likely be wounded coming out of Mensix. “Organize your men however you see fit, but do not engage civilians.”

Shifting towards the mob that was slowly deflating given her acquisition, she addressed Hajh. “We will leave peacefully provided that we travel safely to the city limits. Can you assure us that none of your people will try and intervene?”

The ground mumbled and grumbled before the old man nodded solemnly.

Turning sharply on her heel, the Zeltron wasted no time in tapping furiously at the datapad embedded on her wrist. A stern voice would issue orders to those back at the rec center, mostly reassignments. It was to Fralideja’s good fortune that none of the fighting seemed to spill over into the capital city just yet, so they’d shift their efforts towards Mensix where any intervention would likely come from and defend what they could, if needed. She couldn't blame Hazel for being honest, and she couldn't blame the crowd for being upset. Sometimes there was no easy answer, and sometimes you had to back down.

The Healers loaded up their medical speeders, working silently in the wake of what had just gone down.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

​

Location: Vader's Castle, Rooftop
Allies In Range: None
Enemies In Range: [member="Aela Talith"] | Geonsian Droids
Objective: Plant the Flag

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQYN2P3E06s[/media]

As Mishel stepped out onto the rooftop, lightsaber at the ready her eyes looked up toward the sky. The darken sky above her and all around she could feel Mustafar's heat bore down on her and then her attention was drawn to an incredible aura before her. Lightsided in nature, curiously she looked for the source and found it in this woman. At first, her brow furrowed in confusion she had never felt the light side before, not like this. Hand still on the door's handle, her armour black but the scores along the plating told the story of someone who had fought their way here. She took another step forward, and her lightsaber hummed at her side her mouth open just so as the expression on Mishel's face shifted. Her brow relaxed and she tilted her head and she wanted to reach out to this woman but she was afraid to do so. Still, her arm rose as if she were to do this but then it fell by her side as once again fear took hold of her, and then before she could speak to this woman, to [member="Aela Talith"].

"Intruder alert," the Geonsian droids behind Mishel had finally gotten through the Assassin Probes left behind by [member="Samka Derith"], they fired at Mishel's back. The impact of the bolts as the next wave of droids along with larger, stronger and more powerful droids came forward - forced the young girl to her knees. Lightsaber flicked off as it clattered against the ground, her breathing was heavy once more and as she got to her feet she turned behind her and threw out a wave of fire. The droids in front took the brunt of the hit but the larger ones merely rolled over their compatriots. "Exterminate all intruders." The vat-grown Ren looked down into her armour, where the flag had been tucked away. Still, it somehow rested nestled between her and the armour. She had three options, stay and fight the droids whilst hoping this stranger would assist, explore her curiosity and engage the stranger while somehow fighting off the droids, or the last option run like feth through the roof top and get up toward the highest point. Now on her feet, she summoned her lightsaber to her side once more, and with a familiar hiss it flicked on she took to her Soresu form and began to deflect the shots.

Mishel made a fourth option, engage the stranger - draw the droids away from them and plant the flag as planned, "go! Seek you to find friends, yes? Your family? Go. No lift take you, lift go down - crash. Draw I the droids away door from, go you!" Her speech broken once more, no different than it had been when she first emerged from the tank. Block, block, deflect - a jab and vicious slash would follow as she worked to fight the droids once more. The girl looked at her and then at the towers that laid across the rooftop. Once again when blaster bolts met with her armour. No longer would she bother with the strange woman who radiated with the light side, Mishel took off using her force speed to get a head start on the droids. The droids then followed after the teenager firing en masse as they poured out of the door looking to fire on anyone who was not their Lord Vader.

And as the girl made her way through the maze that was the roof, other droids popped out from various locations. She could not stop and fight, she could not stop to engage them - she would not. Thud, thud, thud her armoured boots crossed - she huffed, puffed and panted as she looked for some way to climb up. More blaster bolts and then she recalled her barrier. The brunette spun on her heels and threw her hand out. The barrier put a stop the droids behind her she took the moment to breathe and examine her options once more. There was a tower nearby, and maybe it was not the centre most tower, but upon the tower was a large spike and the girl had hope in her eyes. Drawing on her force reserve once more she dropped the barrier and moved on her feet, her lungs burned and her muscles ached once again but she willed herself to run toward that tower. Sheathing her lightsaber, Mishel began to climb finding little grooves and ridges in the aged tower where she could put her hands and feet.

On occasion, she would use the force to aid in her climb. Mishel worked her way up - and the droids looked to her as she climbed and began to fire. One could hear her scream with pain as the droids continued their assault. Still, she climbed onward and upward with the force's aide she staved off a few of the hits. As her ascent brought her higher and higher Mishel could feel once more the burning that was Mustafar's air. Her eyes caught sight of the lava as it was diverted toward the temple, and as she climbed she could see more of the battle. First Order vs Galactic Alliance, Jedi vs Ren and yet her goal here was so simple. So simple, just climb, just keep climbing and the words that Samka spoke echoed in her mind. She could do this, she could not fail for if she failed then it would mean that Samka failed. No - that would not happen, this motivated her and kept her on until she finally reached an edge that was deeper than the others. Carefully she pulled herself up and found the spike started here. Swallowing hard she pulled herself up and sat on the edge of it Mishel looked down where the droids were and focused on their location. She focused on the heat that swelled throughout this planet and channelled it toward the droids. Alas - they were too far and even now their weapons just missed her and so she turned back toward the spike's top. Mishel Ren crawled ever so slowly, ever so steadily - careful not to lose her balance, and then as she found a spot to rest her knees she steadied herself.

Her bloodied and bruised hands grabbed from her armour the First Order's flag. With the flag in her hand, she looked for something to hoist the flag and then she looked down at her belt. An idea flooded into her mind, flag in hand the fabric wedged into the fingers of her left hand Mishel began to take off her armour. It pained her more to take it off than it had to take it on, and as she peeled it off of her body, sweat and blood emerged. Bodily fluids merged together against the fabric of her under armour. Pieces of it began to fall back down toward the rooftop floor, other pieces were discarded as Mishel took what she needed from them. Now with the flag she weaved the parts of her armor and belt she could spare and then, focused on a part of the tower's tall spike The teenager recalled [member="Zmej Ren"]'s telekinetic abilities and how she had used them to keep the younger girl at bay, often times out of frustration or for the want of privacy that Mishel had failed to give her. It was this memory that she recalled and used as she focused and tied the flag to the spike, and then as if it was meant to be the heavy heated winds of Mustafar began to blow unfurling the flag for all in the surrounding area to see.

Mishel had done it! She had raised the flag she looked up at its colours and as her eyes took in its beauty her body felt the burning sensation of a blaster. A droid had gotten off a lucky shot, and without her amor the teenager gasped for breath as she clung to the tower spike. The blaster bolt melted flesh and sent the teenager's vision blurred, and then it went black as her body now lifeless began to tumble down the tower spike's side and into the unknown that was Mustafar's surface.

 

[Hansen]

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u0HtxsWaP-o​

FN-888
Rutan Surface, Forest, Enroute to Surveillance Outpost.
Allies: First Order Forces and Registered Allies.
Enemies: Galactic Alliance Forces and Registered Allies.

Spoiler: Equipment

• 1x FO-02 Stormtrooper Armour (Red Officer-Pauldron)
• 1x T-7 Ion Disruptor
• 1x F-11D Blaster Rifle
• 1x SE-44C Blaster Pistol
• 1x Z6 Riot Control Baton
• 1x N-20 Baradium-core thermal detonator
• 2x M1-VX "Vee Ex" Grenades
• 3x M1-NR "Nerve" Autoinjector

Joan's pallor bears a scowl she watches the tree collapse onto the forest's floor with a deafening 'thud', well it would have been deafening for Joan if not for her helmet's aural and sonic dampeners. The tree narrowly misses the strange woman, lifeform scanner still registering a contact; She was alive. Joan couldn't allow either of her foes to reach a 'wounded' Zero and shifts the Disruptor's aim towards the collapsed tree trunk and depresses the trigger. -Fwing- -Fwing- -Fwing- In an attempt to restrict the woman's movements for a moment. Helden's gaze snaps in Zero's direction for a moment and the Stormtrooper Officer barks an order. "Zero, get out of here!" Joan breaks away from the cover and advances on the collapsed tree with disruptor shouldered. Occasionally her eyes and rifle's aim elevate threateningly in the direction she last saw the man. "Don't move, Jedi!" Joan's left boot searches for the tree's frame and with that, she'll go to peer over the collapsed tree searching for the strange woman expectantly.

"Don't move!" Joan's voice threatens pre-emptively, it wasn't the Stormtrooper Officer's intention to kill these two although she'd do whatever necessary to protect her own life and was convinced through a mixture of propaganda and rumours that Jedi took no prisoners or offered quarter to those who fell into their custody. But Joan thought that detaining these two was important, she had questions. The order had questions for these two. Jedi were a valuable catch and though Joan paid no thought to ambition, it was doubtless such an action would earn her praise if not an official commendation. Jedi are some of the Order's most dangerous enemies afterall, even a match for the Supersoldiers of the First Order; Trained from infancy for maximum effectiveness, the universe had not known their kind of soldier since the days of the Galactic Republic. How eerie that soldiers of this calibre now served such a seemingly egregious power on the galactic stage. Joan's boldness was in part due to her confidence in equipment; She'd seen no Lightsabre drawn so far and it was re-assuring for the Officer else she might just be tempted to give up and take her chances. As an Officer, Joan's independence and will to live found itself straddle a threshold higher than the average conditioned Stormtrooper. True enough she was notorious in more conservative circles as an idealist who wanted to indulge the individuality of her troops, going so far as to give them nicknames such as Zero for her icy composure.



[member="Fiolette Yvarro"] [member="Kaili Talith"] [member="Micah Talith"] [member="Vexen"] [member="Jarven Zexxel"] [member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Maria Natalja"] [member="FN-4077"]