Operation: Centurion [OP vs OS]

[Noah Corek]

Location: Bout to Land, HARD!
Enemies: One Sith and Vong lackies and @Hydra Queen
Allies: OP, [member="Sarge Potteiger"], [member="Rave Merrill"] and [member="Nyos Val"]
Objective: Hail Mary with a semi-robot QB

Noah felt his stomach lurch a bit as the drop pod fell into orbits towards its target, the Vong-formed ruins of the Alderaan Palace. Noah was fully intent on helping in the 'forceful' rescue of the Protectorates one true leader. Noah hated flying in atmo, he didn't know why, but he had always had a fear of heights, whether in be in atmo in a space craft or in a building, weird since he grew up on Coruscant which was filled with tall buildings.

Noah brought up the viewscreen for outside the pod and blanched at what he saw, they were heading straight for a building! "Brace! Brace! Brace for impact!" Noah shouted to the three other soldiers inside who followed their Colonels orders and surely did what was necessary to brace for impact. No sooner than they did that they hit the building, glancing off the side and heading straight for the palace.

A few seconds later, the pod came down hard in a sort of courtyard. Emergency lights came flaring on inside the pod, making it so the four alive soldiers could see. "Everyone up?" Noah asked to which he got three afirmatives. Getting out of his harness, Noah sauntered over to the door and activated the emergency explosive bolts that launched the door off and allowed the four soldiers to clamber out.

Looking around, Noah eyes fixated on the flying womanly form some two hundred meters away, if his helmets range finder was to be believed. Looking back, Noah saw the three soldiers about to follow him before he motioned them to stop. "Sergeant Cormack, take Private Irons and Michael and tell Major Knoxx that she is in command until I relieve her." Noah informed the sergeant who smartly nodded and began to haul ass to get to the Major. Looking back to the flying woman Noah sighed and began his trek.

 

[The Hydra Queen]

Location: The Vongformed ruins of Aldera's palace.
Allies: The One Sith | [member="Silara Vantai"] | [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"] | @Tsavon Kraal | [member="Nui Akona"] | [member="Darth Acarus"] | [member="Reverance"] | [member="Harley"] [member="Khallesh "] [member="Darth Layil"] [member="Vaermina"]
Enemies: Omega Protectorate | [member="Ayden Cater"] | [member="Sarge Potteiger"] | [member="Rave Merrill"]
Objective: The Spirits Within
Theme : Heart of the Swarm

​

​

The downdraft would catch her, sending her slamming down onto the ground, the earth under her cracking and leaving a sphere indented from the impact. She'd fall onto a knee, pain shooting up her nerves as she came to. From the pain came the rage. From the rage...

Well... another took hold.

Vongsense left her, and within the Hydra Queen another voice join the fray. One of many. The Force would bloom over the woman, awakening within her as the child of Yun-Amon would bring forth a power far more intimate. Her teeth would grind, and then energy would surge.

Whatever chaos would surround them would beheld in the storm that would surround them. Here, in the eye, it was just them. Perhaps a culmination of such desperate desires long held in check.

Who was she? Zhaera Shai. Vessel of Yun - Harla. Khatazz caste.

She had a duty. A duty.

That boiling point of energy would thrum within her, and in that fabric of the Force her presence would glow. A signature Sarge had felt flicker on and off in the moments he'd been able to get her walls to drop.

Cira.

A roar of rage would tear from lavender lips, and she would rise. Clawed hands would draw back, and telekinetic energy would surge. The most basic of powers amplified tenfold. Raw and unrefined.

Arms would swing forward and muscle memory took over, as a Force blast of telekinetic wave would go tidal waving at the Inquisitor.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Spread your wings and fly." The man roars, drawing upon the wellspring of the Force within his own body and his hood as he began to sprint forward, halberd held tightly in both gauntlets. "But never stray too close to the stars." He adds, throwing the Force downward and into his legs in an upward push nearly as powerful as her telekinetic blast. There was no hope of drawing out the power necessary to counteract her.

She was angry. She was letting herself go. He hadn't the time to do so. But he could use the inbuilt power of his armor to make up for the differential in power to throw himself over the blaster in what amounted to an ungraceful frontflip.

In coming down, his knees flexed and his armor groaned in protest at the sudden landing. He couldn't reach her mind, but he could sense. And he could help her feel. Standing up, haft of his halberd planting in the ground next to his right foot, he stared at her with blue lenses and brought to mind every treasured memory of her.

Of them.

Their fighting.

Their awkward silences.

And he let all of that boundless hope and love and longing radiate from him with the help of his glowing blade, soul glowing like a lighthouse upon a broken shore. He couldn't help but smirk as he stared at her disfigured form, love etched into every fiber of his being. He'd never been more of a Jedi than he'd been right then, even if they weren't supposed to acknowledge their emotion.

 

[Cira]

We fight, we yell. We'll talk about that. But we won't talk about the times we've kissed. That's just going too far.​

The images would rip at her. Emotions. Not hers. No. Yes. Her stomach would clench. Snapshots of images. Places. Beings. No.

I don't know what we are, Cira.

Confusion would mar her face and she would grow even more livid. Glittering cerulean lenses would lock on her from that helm, but she could picture him -- could imagine him, that cold steady calm that would belie the calm of the storm that would stir underneath. A flinch would rock her,
​

​

Frankly we're probably in the most karked up relationship I've ever been in, built around denial and fear and an inability to acknowledge what we are. ​

​

​

​

I am Zhaera Shai. Vessel of Yun-Harla.

Her eyes would flinch at the glowing brightness of the Halbred, but she would not look away. No, nothing was ever so easy.

Mere trickery.

The rage would unfurl, and in that she would rip out, "I̷̙̼̦n̯̭̱͔͍f̲̞i̧̳̼͉͎̠͎̳d̡̩̫̯̮e̻l̴̳̤̥͕̤.͚̮̜̗̜̘̼͡ ̨̖̹̫̤͖̝ ̬Y͙ơ͇u̺̮̫̫̕'̝͕̟̟͜ͅll̶̗̳͍̬ ̙̝̭̰̥͎p̻͍͓͓̗̗̭ay̡̗̮ ̜̭̤͓͚̙f̶̭̖o̷̩͚̘̩̰̹͕r̙̭͍ ͍́th̪͕͔̠̠͉̕à̞̯̯̙t̨.̴͔̯͙."


Snap, crackle, pop. Energy would twist, curl into curling purple arcs of energy. Flash back to to Clockwork. One body falling... falling....

The wind lifting her hair, air whipping at her ears. The droid lunging straight at her as she --

Fingers went snapping forward, sending purple arcs of ionized energy.

But that's just conjecture.​

​

Or was it?

 

[Uriel]

And while [member="Sarge Potteiger"] was off trying his most desperate to win his lady back, Sergeant Uriel was on the job.

The difference between a regular soldier and one of the Inquisition was the fact that every soldier of the Inquisition had the Crusader powered armour. This thing was beastly. It was like wearing a baby tank, with heightened strength systems enough to reasonably lift six times one's own body weight. And, for the most part, it could shrug off basically any infantry-based weapon. Certainly killing it with plasma fire was one way to go, but for the most part, one became a true weapon of war when encased in the armoured cocoon.

The disruptor cannon melted through one of Uriel's squad-mates without any hesitation. However, whiel that was happening, Uriel had switched over to infrared to find the Sith, and charge at them. And in a powered armour that was designed to make a soldier able to take on Force users, Uriel was not running at normal speed. Not quite a blur, but certainly noticeably fast.

In seconds, he was already at the downed fighter. In the time it would take for Harley's weapon to cool down and cycle, he was already on her.

Reaching for the force pike strapped to his backpack, the Sergeant drew his weapon; the force pike was able to slice durasteel, shock a man to death and resist lightsabers all at once. Swung with the force of a titan, this weapon would smash a man to pieces. Its mild hum a death knell, Uriel took a one-handed vertical swing at [member="Harley"], intending either to slice off her arm or cut her in half.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Citrus.

That's what he smelled.

By the Force did he hate that smell.

But he could never hate her.​

​

"I've been paying for it every day since they took you." He replies, voice managing to sound melancholy despite the harsh bark of his helmets external speaker. She charged her lightning - something he was intimately familiar with - and in return he stood his ground. As stubborn as ever, he planted himself and brought the halberd up, letting the energy spark and hit the phrik hilt.

Holding himself with the Force, he drew the energy into the weapon, absorbing it as best he could. Some of it filtered into his armor, causing muscle fibers to spasm and his HUD to crackle with static. "And despite all this." He says, all but yelling to be heard over the din of battle. "I still taste you on my lips. The heat of your soul. The fear of the unknown." He was going to do what he did best...

Make her angry, and then weather the storm.

That was all you could do in a relationship like this; Vong-formed sociopath to... ironically, Vong formed sociopath. "You've been a prisoner of yourself long enough, Cira. It's time to fight back." By the stars did he hope she'd stop this lightning soon. He really didn't want to have to hurt her because it was that or letting his suit burn out and shut down for a minute or two until it recycled its power and came back online.

 

[Cira]

A scream would rip from her throat, her hands drawing to her sides as the arcs of ionized energy would continue to crackle. The scent of ozone would rise around them. Burnt electronics, blood, and that grit of smoke. Charged particles would rise around her, the metallic tang of his voice only serving to fan her rage.

How dare he.

I am Zhaera Shai. Vessel of Yun-Harla. Child of --

"S͈̟̼̪͙͈̪I͈͢L̡̠̝̺E̙̻̹͚͉͢ͅN͙͙̤̟͘C̨̱̦̜̤E̕" She would lash out at him, and in that moment she would strike at him anew. Her scowl would carve her face in sharp angles, and her eyes would start to burn into twin coroneas of flame.

The clipped heels of her vong shapped armor would take long strides right towards him, her fingers once again shooting out agonizing arcs of charged ionized energy to debilitate heavy armor.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge gave a grunt and then forced the energy he'd been capturing straight back at her in the moment between old-stream and new-stream, seeking to offbalance her and by his armor time to stop going on the fritz. They'd prepared for this sort of thing, but preparation and actuality were oft like a plan of attack. It was all well and good until you made contact with the enemy. Anything went at that point.

Adopting a wide stance, halberd held at the ready in front of him to absorb more lightning should it come, he grit his teeth, even as the lenses on his helmet flickered. "We both know silence has always said more than we ever could." He responds coldly, continuing to make himself a wall to her forward progress.

 

[Cira]

Oh life, it's bigger

The flare of danger would hit the Hydra Queen, but she would not be able to avoid. The cost of raw use of power, of anger, would be mistakes. The energy that he'd redirect at her would strike, and the jolt of electricity would hit her in turn. The Vong Crab armor would seemingly shriek in agony, for lightning is one of the few methods of directly combating Yuuzhan Vong.

It's bigger than you
And you are not me

Her muscles would spasm, and she would stagger. A grunt of pain would fall, and her own shaft of ionized energy would come to a halt. The snarl would grow wider, and she took another two steps. The heat of the attack would spread, and charred bits of the Vong Crab armor would sizzle.


The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes

Zhaera never broke pace. Three meters now. [SIZE=13.63636302948px]Enter the Silence. [/SIZE]

Oh no, I've said too much
I've said enough ​

The Force would come coiling up in a fit of rage. She would silence him. She would subdue him. And he would pay. Pay for what he'd done.

For what he'd did to her.

For what he -

No, Cira. I don't want to let you go.

The crackling sound of the third blast of lightning would hide the wretched cry that came after.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge had come too far in life to scream now, but he wanted to as the third blast of Lightning came into his body. Even though his chest was a tangled mass of barely working nerves and scar tissue, that didn't mean he couldn't feel. His body was on fire. Warning lights flashed onto his retina from his HUD. With his halberd as a crutch, he found himself taking a knee in front of her, bowing his head.

Just as she'd wanted... he'd knelt before her.

A snarl creased his face, even as his lenses blew outward and exposed his pitch-black gaze to the world. His head lifted slowly, pain etched into the shimmering voids hidden beneath the brow of his helmet. "Free your mind..." He says, holding onto the haft of his halberd for dear life with both hands. This was a fight she would have to win. On her own. And he would help. With a final burst of effort and the last energy in his hood, he took the Light in his halberd... mixed it with his own, and then exploded it outward in a starburst of radiant light.

"...then the rest will follow." He mutters through heaving gasps for air, voice carrying not only the harsh tones of his helmet speaker, but also the quieter, coarse growl of his natural tone.

Gauntlet rising, he pulled his helmet from his head and let it fall to the ground even as he hoisted himself back up the halberd with a steady, if shaken, grip. "I was never meant to save you." His eyes betrayed the sorrow those words caused. "I was only meant to guide you home." Charred, blackened skin stretched up from his neck and crept up his cheeks like horrific vines. He wanted to sit. He wanted to rest.

He wanted to go home.

But he could not sit by until she came with.

Willingly or otherwise.

 

[Cira]

I thought that I heard you laughing. ​

The brilliant flash of light would blind her, immediately culling the stream of lighting that had gone charging at the Inquisitor. Stars would shine at the back of her eyes, her retinas burning at the flash of illumination. A kaleidoscope of stars would streak under her lids and she would give a frustrated growl.

I thought that I heard you sing.

The Hydra staff that had coiled under the length of her insecticoide hair would give five angry hisses, their tongues flicking by her ears as the five heads would poke through and out into the open. She was blind, and there would come a slight stumble, the frustration growing and growing within her. She could practically feel her bones turn into molten iron rods, her desire to lash out at the Protectorate solider ever growing.

I think I saw you try. ​

The living Hydrastaff would react to her emotional state, sliding down from its perch to wrap round her right arm, hissing violently. Moments would tick by. Mere moments.

The snakelike organism would slide forward, until its body would crystalize into a hard staff used to attack. Finally her vision would start to clear, and in it came a satisfaction of seeing the form on bent knee.

"Re͢ḿemb̨e̡r ͏ỳo͢uŕ ͢pl̷ac̵e͠, Infidel."



The Hydra Queen would take a step forward, blinking vision into clarity -- only to freeze.

You're not supposed to be here.

Dark eyes as black as the inky black. The sorrow and pain reflected within them would be startling. That face. She knew that face. It struck her with avid familiarity. A tiny voice would cry in the depths of her mind. A voice that would nag at her.

Whispers of a memory.

There came the familiar tenor. Right there, no longer crackling with a metallic tang, punctuated by quickening breath.

Už nie som tvoja starosť..

A sudden shaft of pain would rip through the nape of her neck. There the spine ray that was attached would send painful ripples through her nervous system. It was crippling.

This is MY life, not your personal mission objective. My life. MINE.

Things she wasn't supposed to access. Memories that weren't hers. Couldn't be hers.

I am Zhaera Shai. The Vessel of Yun-Harla.

I am...

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge looked at Cira with an expression that could only be termed pity, and then he spoke a single name. "Rave."

A command.

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Cira"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"]

Black blood coated Rave's skin and armor, matted her hair, clogged her nose. She'd lived and worked and sacrificed among the Vong, tasted their ways, paid the price for their knowledge -- their blood was familiar to her. Muscles thrumming warm from the fight, knuckles white on Entropy's grip beneath a layer of ichor, she turned to the centerpiece duel as Sarge uttered what was unmistakably a command.

There could be only one response.

"Kark yourself."

A Nightsister control web snapped out from her spinning blade, a spell cast with the dexterity of a woman who'd made trillions not just subjugating leviathans and terentateks, but farming them. The control web manifested as a net of greenish-white radiance that closed around Cira as Rave slammed into her mind with intent to KO. If the Hydra Queen was in Vongsense mode, Rave would switch and attempt the same on that level. Rave was no career mentalist, but the Queen was the definition of a monster, and nobody -- nobody -- could wrangle a monster like Rave. The implacable tidal wave of command aimed for nothing short of catatonia and unconsciousness.

 

[Cira]

The mental slam of mental energy combined with the sharp agonizing pain from the Spineray attempting to prevent her access to memories of another life would bring the Hydra Queen to her knees.

A cry of agonizing pain would come ripping from her throat. She would fall forward, dropping to a knee as she attempted to struggle against the glowing green ties that would wrap round her. Yet it was of no use, for the more she would struggle the more she would be caught up in it.

The Hydrastaff would sink back into its flexible form, rearing up to bare its five heads at Sarge, five tongues hissing in anger in line with that of its mistress. Her wings would attempt to spread, attempt to gain leverage to send her airborne. They would spread, sending her fluttering a few feet off in the air before the web would tighten, slamming her back down onto the floor.

Black would threaten to close around the edges of her eyesight, trying to through the pain. On all fours, Zhaera would utter curses in Yuuzhang Vong, that harsh tongue in another lifetime she'd studied in curious fascination.

Another slam of energy would hit her, demanding she sink into the abyss. The insect like tendrils of her hair would fall forward, veiling her face.

[SIZE=13.63636302948px]I am Zhaera Sha--[/SIZE]

The next instant, darkness took her.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge stood on unsteady feet, although his armor anchored him in place sufficiently that no one would be any the wiser. With his halberd as a walking staff, he crouched down long enough to pick up his helmet and put it back into place before approaching the woman. First thing to go would be that irritating Hydrastaff. Five heads or not, his gauntlets would crush it like it was paper.

He'd not actually had a chance to test the upsized crushgaunts Ayden had incorporated the armor, but he did now. He was, after all, going to have to get rid of it to remove Cira from the world. There was little time to waste as he reached an oversized hand out to grasp the staff, mindful to keep the exposed eyes of his suit away from spitting range. At that point it was a simple matter of tearing off the heads.

Violently.

"I need a pick up. My coordinates." He says into his comm, smoking armor nearly a beacon in and of itself for the incoming dropships. They'd need to get Cira to a medbay so that Rave could remove the biots. After that... a hospital would do.

He gave the order. General retreat. They had their prize. His attention turned to Rave briefly as he gave a slow, somber nod of his head in thanks. It was going to take a few hours, but the Protectorate would recover what it had sent down, then jump back to friendly territory - pausing only long enough to drop Sarge off on Corellia.

[member="Uriel"] [member="Noah Corek"] [member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Hailey Sosis]

[member="Uriel"]

Harley saw one of the enemy get dusted, then one tin can`s ran towards her. He was wielding a force pike, he was fast on the run, but was he light on his feet. As he went to to cut her own, she dropped her weapon and backflipped away from him. She then looked down at her leg, it was bleeding a bit he caught her leg as she moved away. It was probably only superficial, she lights up her lightsaber and began to fuel her body with the force. She had only practiced ataru, so she need to be fast and light footed to be good at it. She gazed at the tin can, and prepared herself to attack. She rushed at him, hoping to get her blade on the inside of his pike. She was hoping to run the blade straight down to his tin hands, so she could disarm him.

 

[Uriel]

[member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Harley"] [member="Rave Merrill"] [member="Noah Corek"]

Retreat. The word passed down the vox-link; the prize had been claimed. It was time to leave the planet. The Sergeant wasted no time in issuing his orders to his team, ensuring their loyalty, their strength, their courage and honour.

"Cover the Lord Inquisitor! To the landing zone!"

Uriel had not once actually hit anything himself. This was a travesty. Yet again he had been denied his prize - it was a situation he was starting to sorely regret.

Unfortunately for Harley, Uriel had plenty of time to step back; between dropping her weapon, backflipping, activating her lightsaber, jumping back in then attacking, Uriel had already heard the call for retreat. He had plenty of time to change back to his bolter, mag-strapped to his thigh-plate, then get out of there. There wouldn't be a fight.

A withering fusillade from the rest of Uriel Squad covered their Sergeant away from the Sith, answering every movement of hers with an overwhelming barrage of bolter rounds. As much as he wanted to fight, orders were absolute. He would obey the Lord Inquisitor's imperative and leave the area.

Together with the rest of the Inquisition, the armour-clad warriors could set up a perimeter, encircle their landing site, and prevent anything from getting in while pickup was arranged.

 

[Hailey Sosis]

[member="Uriel"]

Harley began blocking the blaster bolts, as they came at her. She was trying to send them back at the tin can, she was facing more and more gunfire though. Then a shot glanced off her arm, it stung like hell. She quickly behind cover, and shouted ​OI YOU COWARD OF TIN CAN, COME GET ME IF YOU THINK YOU'RE HARD ENOUGH! She waited undercover to see if he would advance on her or not, he probably would not the coward. She wonder why they were retreating though, had they lost or had they got what they came for, she did not know. All she did not is they were on the run, and more troops were coming.

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

She didn't catch his nod; the planet full of nasty still meant to kill them. Whatever impetus said nasty had lost when the Hydra Queen went down, they seemed to compensate for it with the inexorable progress of time. The longer a small incursive force remained exposed and stationary, the more certain its deadness. Through a hole in the roof, one of many by this point, she watched dropships scream in towards their position. The part of her that had made the sacrifices necessary for Sith battle coordination -- the ability to see every puzzle piece and how it all fit together -- approved of sending redundant dropships, knowing that some or most would die.

The part of her that was still a five-year-old possessed by an old monster -- that part that she couldn't shake after a quarter century of freedom -- saw the dropships die, understood the casualties in space and on the ground, and was very nearly sick. Her victory had no satisfaction to it. She felt cheated -- by herself.

Entropy's tip hit the gore-slicked floor with a clink, and her cognitive dissonance manifested as a wave of lightning. It drained her, took all she had, but it would keep them clear until a dropship made it through.

 

[Khallesh]

[member="Kaiden 'Papa' Rohn"]

The human was down, but he was quick to react. Again he displayed that speed by catching her ankle and knee with his two feet and trying to pull her down. The pressure on the front of her kneecap sent a painful jolt up her thigh. There was one thing she focussed on in that moment. If she went down backwards she would be at his mercy.

She made the split-second decision to launch herself at the soldier instead. The muscles of her right exploded to make her rise, he hand came up with her coufee ready to strike. Unfortunately her left foot caught on his right foot as she rose. She pivoted about it, but at least she still landed forwards. Somehow the knife had slipped from her grip as she'd fallen; a pity as she had been aiming to gut him with it.

Khallesh came down hard on the soldier, all knees and elbows as she struck at him repeatedly and tried to pin him down. She tried to keep one leg on either side of him and to stay too close for him to get any good punches in.