Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Operation: Save Lanik! ( PM to Join )

Avernus pivoted on his heels to face Gabriel Pryce Gabriel Pryce as the Jedi dropped down from the ventilation shaft. He reached through the force and called his lightsaber from his belt to his left hand. The purple blade shot out violently from the curved hilt with a hateful hiss. The unstable blade undulated viscously with a constant, loud crackling-hum.

Before Darth Avernus could act, Wyatt Morga Wyatt Morga came through the doors of engineering. Avernus did not speak, allowing himself to take in the feelings of the two Jedi that had accosted him and Vaulkhar Vaulkhar so suddenly. "You've not seen-" a sudden burst of force energy sent Avernus backwards before he could properly retort.

He braced himself both physically and with the force, mitigating much of the assault. He slid back on his feet, as what was left of Wyatt's metaphysical shove sent him backward regardless of his attempt at a counter. He didn't lose his footing until he slammed into a waist-height engineering control panel. The momentum of the top half of his body continued where his bottom half did not, sending him flipping over the panel.

Avernus shot up to his feet, pulling his lightsaber back to his grasp and reigniting the blade. With a small hop, his foot landed back on the control panel, and with a sudden bend and snapping-straight of his leg, he launched himself from it. With an arcing corkscrew motion, is purple saber blade came descending spitefully in a wide arc towards the two Jedi masters. The purebloods pointed tongue stuck menacingly out from between his bared teeth as he lunged toward them.
 
The Shrine / An Argument

The intensity of the moment bore down on Bernard with all its might. Though every fibre of his being willed him to end the saboteur’s life, he remained steadfast. The blade came to a halt just above its prey, shaking ever so slightly as all the muscles in his arms were caught in restraint. He had to force every breath to leave his lungs.

The path of the Jedi did not bring authority over life. There is no chaos, there is harmony; there is no chaos, there is harmony ...

He clung to the words as though they would bring salvation in this moment of crisis. His breathing began to get more erratic, the blade trembling with greater intensity.

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

The death this saboteur could cause if left alive, the untold destruction a servant of the dark could wreak upon the galaxy if spared ...

Familiar pain finally broke the hazy mantra guarding his mind. Memories resurfaced, long-forgotten sorrows rearing their ravenous heads. He felt the anguish of loss echoed, the lasting curse that attachment brought. It tore into him like a starved beast.

His fist banged feebly against the cold metal chest of the droid. It gave no outward sign of recognition that it had been struck. The boy was weakly struggling to free himself. He could hardly see through watery eyes and had to sniffle repeatedly to keep his nose free. A pressing need to know the fate of those close to him drove his disregard for vital medical attention.

The loud fracturing of the torture table announced the surge of power as it forced him back several paces. He brought one of his hands up to protect his face as shrapnel darted past him on either side. When it lowered again he was face to face with the saboteur, his features twisted into an expression charged with malice.

His attention tore away from the turmoil within and to the words the man spoke. He could feel the venom of hatred drip from every syllable. Any doubts within his mind dissolved, replaced by the personification of the dark that now stood to face him.

Even so, he was frozen. Where doubt once held, there now was fear. Fear not of the saboteur, but of the darkness that had spared him; of the very being that had consumed all he'd ever grown to love in its burning hatred, but not him.

The will to fight his saviour was beginning to die out. All signs of resistance had faded to the occasional shifting of his body weight in attempts to fall through the droid's grasp. Most of his attention now belonged to the surrounding scene. Black lines had singed into the walls like singular claw marks. They told the story of struggle; evidence of a confrontation resolved with the blade of a sabre.

The monotony of charred bronze was broken by brown robes. His gaze lingered on the face. It belonged to his lightsabre instructor. He didn't have the strength to lament his passing. Resignation to whatever fate awaited him had settled.


Tension began to wane from his stance. His muscles eased their frozen resolve. The blade that was to free its prey now stood as a thin barrier between him and the darkness.

Its soft glow was soon drowned out by arcing bolts of lightning. He heard the creaking of his lightsabre's plasma field as it caught the surge, but the invisible wave of power it carried crashed into him before he realized it was coming.

His grip faltered and the blade extinguished. The inert hilt clattered to the floor as he was flung backwards. Searing energy replete with corrupting fires of the dark side arced across his body, burying deep beneath his skin. His nervous system lit ablaze and was quickly overwhelmed. Torment gave way to numbness.

Without so much as a grunt, he crashed into the far wall, falling to the ground on his side. The lightning had come to a stop with him, but small arcs still danced over his unconscious form. Pristine white robes were singed black across his front. The armoured plate protecting his chest had yielded where cerulean arcs of lightning had impacted them, leaving behind little more than spots of molten slag.

The only indication he still lived were the fading muscle spasms where foreign electricity still spurred his nervous system to act out against stillness.

The medbay wasn't empty. The bed next to him was occupied, but not by a fellow patient. Exhaustion dragged him into transitory oblivion. He knew he'd be alone when he woke again.

Lanik Dawnstar Lanik Dawnstar Ryv Ryv Darth Voyance Darth Voyance
 
Metal stabbed deeper into flesh, and crimson poured from the rents and cracks within the Duranium. Flowing across Lirka's figure, and soon the near invisible runes that had been etched into that plate became visible, catching their Master's blood as it surged out. Another roar rang out across the hangar: pain coursed through the Sephi's figure.

Her feet broke, bones jutted and stabbed: and soon winces of pain became a wide grin: pain was good. Pain told Lirka she was alive, still clinging to this mortal plain rather than the great gestalt of beyond. That she was greater. Greater than these puny rats, these Jedi vermin. Using her blade as support, the shrieking of metal sliding across metal followed Lirka as she moved once again. Ignoring everything telling her to lay down and accept defeat.

Speaking in her native tongue, the Sephi stalked after her prey: fire burning in the single eye visible through the cracked helmet lens:

"Sal am Nar..."

Metal shrieked, a trail of crimson following her every step.

"...Sal am firvain"

Her destroyed body let loose a battle cry, as flesh and metal were forcibly wrapped together.

"I am the destroyer. I am carnage. I am death!"

Her voice thundered, and the pace of the brutal cripple of doom picked up. Shrieking of metal turning into clashing. Lirka tearing her own body apart just as fast it tried to regrow itself.

Jend-Ro Quill Jend-Ro Quill
 
Fear was a path to the Dark Side. Fear was also a completely natural and rational response to being chased by something like Lirka Ka Lirka Ka . Quill ran faster, calling on the Force to compensate for his advancing age. Her roar pursued him down starship hallways and through - well, almost through - a pair of intervening troopers. His saber slashed out and relieved them of their rifles and right hands, but not before a stun blast hit him. He shunted as much of the energy away as he could and staggered through another door into what appeared to be a cellblock.

These cells were cramped, spartan, outfitted with bright lights and loud noise for sleep deprivation purposes. Quill and his sensory issues recoiled. Getting through there probably wasn't an option. What to do about the prisoners was as much an enigma as what to do about his pursuer.
 
Major Faction

Ryv

Become One With All Things
Shots rang down the hall, ricocheting off the durasteel and blowing past the kiffar altogether. His lightsaber flashed from left to right, deflecting what came too close. He looked back, noting Lanik as he stood and nodded to himself. If the other padawan could stand, they'd likely be fine, so Ryv took this opportunity to continue holding back the imperial soldiers. With each second, the squadron moved closer, leaving Ryv more annoyed than anything. His position and training made these sorts of situations child's play, even for someone not as well trained as himself. However, the sudden sound of crackling electricity blew out behind him. Deflecting another bolt, Ryv turned and looked back, eyes snapping open in surprise as both Lanik and Bernard went tumbling down nearly one after another.

"Dude! What?!" he both shouted and questioned at the same time. A flash of light zipping past his face brought him back into the moment. "I don't have time for this!" he'd scream out at the soldiers as he'd reach out towards them. Taking a deep breath, a wave of energy washed over them and sent them sliding back. He dashed forward and leaped into the air, his feet leading as he planted them into one trooper's chest and sent him back into a wall. Hitting the ground with a faint thud, Ryv kicked up and hopped back to his feet in time to reflect a shot into the thigh of the quickest to recover. "Two down, I'd recommend le-" he jumped behind cover as the remaining two started firing once more. He reached out once more, this time tugging one closer. Ryv clotheslined the flying body and dashed towards the last one. His lightsaber flashed out, slicing the weapon from his opponent's hand. Now point-blank, he pushed out and sent the last of them flying back to slam into a wall.

"Alrighty, problem solved," Ryv nodded and turned, running back towards his two fallen allies. Seeing the state of Bernard and Lanik, he could only shake his head. Moving to Bernard's smoking form, he knelt and lifted the arkanian. "Oof, you're heavy, pretty boy," he looked around before spotting a table adorned with wheels. "Nice," he hurried over and laid the steaming padawan down before hurrying over to Lanik. "Not sure how I'm gonna lift you, chief," Ryv slid his hands under the brawny padawan's arms and dragged him across the room. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," Ryv knelt again and lifted Lanik. "Oh my f-" he laid him down beside the unconscious arkanian and moved to the end of the table. "Alrighty boys, hang on tight, I'm gonna get us out of here."

Ryv rushed them through the halls, BD chirping out directions at each intersection they passed. Soon enough, the group managed to near the hangar Alana, and her ship occupied. The blast door had been sealed once more in their absence.

"C'mon man, are you serious?" he looked to the droid hitching a ride on the table. "Get over there and slice that, BD," the padawan said quickly before slowing. He lifted his commlink and activated it. "Alana, we're approaching the hangar from the southern corridor. Be ready to meet me, Lanik and Bernard are both hurting bad, will need the help."


 
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When the Jedi created distance from the Chiss the Commando was quick to draw his blaster pistol, the duraplast running along the bantha leather holster in a smooth, swift pull of the gun before he let loose a pulse of five rounds toward the Jedi - only for the next burst to ring off from the crimson blade as it ignited. This Jedi was clearly cut from a different cloth. It would all be pieced together if Wirm was able to identify this one from the holofeed after this operation but in these moments he realized this one had the burning drive of a warrior, not merely a keeper of peace.

The leap over the trooper drew the Chiss to roll down toward the jedi as soon as he cleared his form, only to turn and face the Jedi once more -- the two sabers ignited he was charged. His crimson gaze widening. The blue saber flickered after the first slash -- shorting out from the heavy cortosis weave over the Tenebrae pattern armor. The crimson saber struck true in a downward cut, slicing down his helmet and digging through his chestpiece. His helmet -- shattered revealed the haunting red gaze of the Chiss to Sev as he locked eyes with the pit fighter for a moment before he surged forward to slam a closed fist into his abdomen, activating the knuckle mounted vibro knife to send it digging past his robes and into the flesh beneath before soon enough an armored knee would shoot up to slam into Sev's stomach before the Purge Commando pushed him off.

Wirm had to move quick. Another mark on his helm and another saber taken as trophy would be a blessing, but the objective meant far more in this moment. Success had to be priority over anything else and these Jedi were already well on their way to liberating their mark. Awash with adreneline the Chiss pulled the phrik blade from the control console, retracting it into his hilt before eventually he was on the move once more.

"I want a triad in Sector 1-B. They're moving for their escape. Rig smoke and be ready to lay down fire." The Chiss spoke through broken, distorted comms from his shattered helmet. Flanking either way to the corridor leading to Ryv's position two Purge Commandos slung their charric rifles, readying one smoke grenade and one flash grenade between the two of them. As soon the door was opened, sliced open from Ryv's BD unit a cloud of smoke enveloped his vision before soon enough the stun cracked out through the hallway to create a pale flash before soon enough the green masers from their rifles started cracking out -- the lifeform scanners built into their helmets revealing the Jedi's position as they closed in on him.

"T%A@K^E T*H#I&S O*N%E A$L*I&V@E" One of the Commandos uttered through scrambled comms.

Sev Pitborn Sev Pitborn | Ryv Ryv | Lanik Dawnstar Lanik Dawnstar | Bernard Bernard
 
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Sev felt the rage continue to flow through him as he assaulted the mysterious trooper with everything he had. He attempted to feel the soldier's intentions with the Force, but once again, it was like staring into an endless abyss. Nothing. Blackness. Emptiness. Sev was helpless to read the intention of this warrior, an ability he had used in nearly every fight up to this point. Sev had become so in tune with his battle premonition, that fighting without it, against this wound in The Force, felt as if he were boxing with one arm.

Even still, the gladiator was a skilled warrior. The rage fueling him pushed him through the searing pain in his chest as he smashed through the soldier's defenses, striking him with one saber only to have it short out once again. The crimson sith blade, however, struck true, revealing a glimpse of the man beneath. A glowing red eye gazed back at Sev, emotionless and focused, seemingly unfazed by their contest.

This caused Sev to pause for a split second, just enough time for a fist to slam into his abdomen, followed by the searing pain of a blade slicing into his flesh. Sev's adrenaline was coursing through his veins, allowing him to eat the pain as his robes grew warm and wet with blood around the wound. Before Sev could counter, he was slammed by the soldier's knee, it's enhanced strength sending Sev tumbling backward. Sev fell, holding his side, the warm ichor flowing between his fingers as he held his wound. He felt weak, as if all of his strength and will had been sapped from him. His thoughts began to become incoherent as he lost blood, and the wound began to burn with pain as his adrenaline wore off.

Sev let placed on hand on the ground as he tried to catch his breath, his breathing hoarse and labored as his body sounded the dread alarm. In one last act of defiance, he looked up at the soldier, who had returned to the console to collect his blade. The sight of this victorious trooper filled Sev with incredible rage. The anger filled him, vibrating through his body, washing over his wounds and numbing them with hatred and sheer will. He rose to his feet, calling on the Force. He felt the Force begin to gather around him, wrapping him in a cloak of raw power. His pain was gone, and his body seemed to be carried by the Force itself. He charged the trooper, his speed enhanced to unnatural levels by the Force, his limbs pulsing with dark energy as he neared the trooper, slamming his fist directly into the trooper's spine, blasting the armor with the Force as he did so. The sheer energy wrapped around his limb made his fist hit like it was made of Beskar and weighed as much as a speeder. As he charged, Sev let out a blood-curdling scream of rage, lashing out with everything he had left.

Kolson Vrask Kolson Vrask
 
Bravely venturing into (well, more adjacent) to the heart of the Jedi incursion, the Knight turned a corner... only to see a middle-aged man in burlap robes push his way through a pair of overly loyal Legionnaires, lopping off a hand from each in the process.

Following him was a... what in the Nether was that? One of theirs, presumably? A Sithspawn maybe. Looked frenzied, whatever it was - wounded, in the same way a rabid beast was wounded before it started tearing out throats.

Kark this shit. Kark. This. Shit.

Spinning on his heel, the Inquisitor began briskly walking in the exact opposite direction. He had most certainly not signed up for this.

 
His presence a gift? Joycelyn smirked as well.

"Only if you were in chains."

While Cotan had taken his lessons from the Je'daii, Joycelyn had taken her lessons from the martial traditions of the Epicanthix, mixed in a few lightsabre forms, and absorbed concepts from opponents she had faced herself. It was part of the Sith's philosophy to grow stronger in adversity, and a part of the Empire to absorb foreign elements and grow all the stronger for it.

"Well, draw and show me!"

She let with her right hand and, as she untwisted, threw her hand forward with fingers splayed. Weights flew off a rack behind her and rocketed at Cotan to elicit a response. It was not the most accurate attack, but with the amount of weights being launched in his general head-height, she could perhaps guess his response.

As the weights passed Joycelyn, she brought her sword around. First it fell behind her, then her right hand re-joined the left as she lunged forward and brought the sword into a rising cut directed at Cotan's lower section.

Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor
 
Thunderous footsteps rang throughout the hallway, Lirka was in no position to fight: but her so called "immortality" had made the Sephi even more reckless than she was before she reached her current state. The Jedi would suffer, there could be no other result. Shouting in her native tongue followed afterwards, declarations of her own superiority and unfaltering resolve; Lirka shouted empty nonsense at all those who really weren't listening to begin with.

She threw aside whatever troopers came in her way, a single swipe of her massive log of an arm enough to make sure to stay out of the way as the beast continued on it's hunt. As the cell-blocks got closer and closer, Lirka began to swing her blade across the floor: sending sparks flying into the air. A purely over dramatic display, the sort Lirka had always favored in her long life.

"There is nowhere left to run, Jedi!"

The sensory overload the poor old man seemed to be suffering didn't phase the hulking Sephi monstrosity, she merely advanced. Sparks flying into the air as burning rents were slashed into the ground. Of course, in her single minded dedication to his obliteration she had entirely glossed over the presence of AMCO AMCO : intelligence was only occasionally Lirka's strength.

Jend-Ro Quill Jend-Ro Quill
 
Lirka Ka Lirka Ka AMCO AMCO

Quill's self-control hung by a thread. He held off on using the Force in case he tapped the Dark Side by accident. When he stumbled into the cellblock's control room, that left him with only a single option. He cut down the watch officer as quickly as he could.

Avoiding the dying man's eyes, he fiddled with the control panels and did his best to regain his balance. When the strobe lights and blaring noise died down, he got that balance, at least in part.

He wanted to shut down the cells' energy fields - release the prisoners here - but it required a code he didn't have. He watched Lirka approach down the middle of the cellblock. The control room's transparisteel window might hold. Maybe.
 
Major Faction

Ryv

Become One With All Things
Whispers drifted across Ryv's senses, warning him of an impending danger fast approaching. He looked left and right, searching for whatever the force warned him of, his eyes snapping to the sound of the blast door sliding open. As both grenades bounced across the surface of the floor, he turned on his heel and pushed out in the table's direction. A rolling wave of metaphysical energy sent the table, and its two passengers, zipping down the hall and away from the oncoming troops. Unable to shield his eyes, the flash sent him stumbling into the wall, vision whited out. He rubbed at them, trying his best to bring back his sight, to no avail. The sound of smoke filling the room went entirely missed, given the loud bang emitted by the prior grenade. Once Ryv felt the smoke coalescing around him, he pushed back, breaking from the cloud, only to stumble to the ground.

BD-8 skittered up to the Jedi's side, nudging him with its head while chirping furiously. Still unable to hear much of anything, Ryv blindly pointed in a random direction, shouting at the droid to stay with Lanik and Bernard at all costs. The droid refused, nudging the padawan until a series of shots whizzed past them both. Another soft series of whispers assailed the kiffar in time for him to snag the small droid and tug him close to his chest, saving it from immediate annihilation. A second shot immediately slammed into Ryv's side, sending a surge of pain flaring through his body from the feeling of a cracked rib.

"Ah fu-" Ryv bit down the curse and struggled around a corner as his vision slowly returned to him. Everything was blurry and followed by the smeared sight of an afterimage, but he managed to break the line of sight before shoving the droid in the direction of the rolling table. "BD, I can't protect you and fight them, you have to make sure someone comes to get them," he offered the droid a reassuring smile after a storm of beeps and chirps. "Yeah, chief, I'm gonna be fine. I'll meet you back at the ship, alright?" he peered back around the corner before ripping his head back to avoid a flurry of shots. One hand took hold of his lightsaber hilt while the other lifted his commlink. "Master Oren, this is Ryv. My BD unit will be transmitting its location for you. Bernard and Lanik are down, so I'm gonna lead some baddies away and rendevous at the ship," he sputtered out each word while sliding out of his jacket. He threw it over the droid before nodding down the hall. "That should give you cover if anyone else finds you, little guy."

The two friends offered one another a nod before Ryv charged around the corner, and the small droid dashed after the rolling table.

While the smoke impaired Ryv's vision, the crackling sound of the purge commando's comms sounded over it all. The Jedi's lightsaber sprung to life with a snap-hiss and collided against the vibroblade of the trooper taking point. The lightsaber snapped left and right, parrying aside the storm of blows that fell upon the smaller Jedi, but Ryv quickly lost ground. He dove aside from a stream of shots sent down the hall, stumbling to the ground as one caught his hip and carried him violently to the floor. Not stopping, the kiffar rolled to the side as the vibroblade carved a shallow swathe through the durasteel floor beneath them.

Ryv launched himself to his feet and half-sprinted, half-limped the opposite direction of his fleeing droid. The armored commando raced after him, quickly gaining ground on his wounded target. Ryv pivoted and sent a broad sweep of the saber at his foe, barely grazing his armored chest, before once more pushing off with his good side to break down another corridor. He barely made it ten feet down the hall before his assailant tackled him from behind and brought them both sliding across the floor. Ryv rolled beneath him and kicked up and over, sending the heavier opponent a few feet off the ground to slam into the field further down. Taking up his lightsaber once more, Ryv readied himself and fell into a defensive stance as the two other commandos rounded the corner and popped another round of shots.

Two were immediately sent back at them, each shot dissipating uselessly against their armored forms. In Ryv's haste, he erred and lowered his guard, allowing a third shot to slam into his abdomen and launch him back. He slid a few feet back to the waiting soldier, who promptly stomped down and put the kiffar to sleep.

 
A Light Shining in Darkness
Wyatt watched as the exquisitely dressed Sith Lord slammed into the control panel, and flipped over it with little regard for what was around him. Thrown asunder, Wyatt would have smiled at the humor of it - if it weren’t for the fact his emotions were severely deadened in the moment. It was in zen he found his ability to focus on the Force came from; a clarity unmatched by the raw power the Sith often relied on, and something that took far longer to perfect than the angry, sensational style of Juyo or Force Lightning.​
Yet, Avernus came back with an ability not often used for its dangerous enactment; and one more often used for those unprepared for the dash. Some called it the ‘Sheev Spin’ in retrospect to it most obvious success, though Wyatt was wary if it were not the only one; striking down three Jedi Masters in only a split second before even the greatest duelists of the era could respond. Wyatt, however, was prepared for the man rushing towards him - but there wasn’t much stopping a man mid spin.​
Instead, Wyatt seemed to fall towards his right - letting his knee take the entire force of his sudden movement, enough to move out of the of the spin. His blade struck outwards at the hopefully exposed midsection of Avernus as he passed by; letting the force drive his blade forward a few feet before being rushed back to his hand. If successful, it would have seen Avernus cut in a perfect corkscrew down his entire being - though Wyatt expected it wouldn’t be that easy.​
Stepping up to stand once more, he watched Avernus carefully as his blade idled in front of him ever so carefully.​
 
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