In the heat of battle, the green blade glimmered. The jedi's body a blur of motion as he cut through stormtrooper after stormtrooper. The sith position was overrun. Meta and the army of troops that been sent with him were decimating the storm troopers. Not meeting much sith resistance, apart from a few apprentices and acolytes Meta had to silence earlier with the aid of his clones. However, the stormtroopers had a good defence and almost even numbers. But they were in disarray. Not many knew what was happening before a saber had passed through them or a blaster bolt had found its way to their chest. Using a mixture of Makashi and Shii-Cho and also implementing the physicality of Shien. Meta was using his whole body as a weapon, his fists crushing stormtrooper skulls, his blade cutting through them like a knife through soft butter.
Although both sides were losing forces. Meta would not relent, he kept pushing. "Forward!" He roared continuously. The stormtroopers had put up defensive trenches and measures for defence, but it was nothing in the face of such rage and raw power. There was crossfire, explosions left and right. Blaster fire coursing throughout the main hall of the jedi academy. However, the group had split up, Meta was with group one. Attacking the main group, groups two and three were larger groups. Fighting on higher levels adjacent to eachother.
The clones and Meta had created a foothold, though it wasn't lasting long as Meta's forces had been drawn into a trap. Being fired at from all sides, Meta's men were falling rapidly, the only cover they could find being that of fallen troopers from each side. Meta however had focused on makashi, deflecting bolts back at the troops with one hand, a blaster in the right. Meta's armour steamed from explosives, blasters and shrapnel. Meta cringed as a blaster bolt hit his leg, and he fell clumsily. His men were being overrun savagely by the stormtroopers now. An AT-ST in the distance firing blasts in every direction. Taking out clone and storm troopers alike. Meta was a warrior, he could allow his men to die like this. Linking up his com with the two teams up the upper levels, he groaned, blood pouring out of the wound on his leg. "Groups two/three, my men and I have been ambushed down here. Can you reach us?" Nothing but blaster fire replied over the com. For a moment, Meta thought they were dead. "Sir, all roots down to you have been cut off, at least any of them nearby. But, I've ordered my men to set charges on the walls, we can shoot from above sir." Meta understood that there was the risk of the academy walls collapsing, but it was worth it. "Do it trooper!"
Explosions erupted from the walls adjacent from each other and hellfire rained down upon the enemy. A storm of blaster fire crushing the sith's defence, Meta smiled under his mask as his clones cheered in relief as the stormtroopers were obliterated, however the AT-ST still remained, and the sith's forces had enough time to retaliate. Firing off several rockets, Meta was able to hit two with a couple lucky shots from a blaster and redirected another into the AT-ST. It's metal now stained and rusted from the explosion, its aim was shaken and for a moment Meta had an opening. Rolling from cover Meta brought his blade up into a mighty swing, and threw it as hard as he could. The blade slicing through the thick metal leg of the AT-ST. It roared as it fell, its head slamming into the walls of the academy. This caused an avalanche of dust, clone troopers and debris. Many of the troops screaming in fright as they fell. However, everything fell quiet as the debris and ash settled, Meta was breathing heavily. He had beaten the odds, however he wasn't the only one standing in the room. Upon the steps leading to the corridors stood a sith dawned in black, his pale features illuminated by the cracks in the ceiling. Meta brought up his com link. "Is anyone still up there?" He questioned, looking to the two balconies the clones had recently created. "Sir, most of groups two and three have regrouped on the upper level. We've looked over the blueprints sir, can we meet you and your men at the armoury?" Meta groaned from pain, grabbing his burnt and bruised leg. "Yes, I'll rally up the troops and head there now." The coms fell silent as he lowered his arm, now both jedi and sith stared at each other. "You're in my way." Meta crocked. Painting himself as a fully functioning individual, standing fully straight and his fists clenched. "You've made quite the mess jedi." The sith said in appraisal of the situation, looking around as if impressed before sharply turning back to Meta. "You're going to pay for that." He said, igniting his lightsaber and beginning to walk down the steps to the hall. Meta cracked his knuckles, unaware of where his lightsaber was he didn't have time to search for it. He would just have to fight hand to hand. Meta charged forward, the sith lunged down to him. Cutting down with a vertical stroke as he landed, if Meta had not moved, he would have been hit. Sidestepping Meta dodged the blade, he had resolve; Meta had refocused and was ready to take on the sith. Raising his fists, he took note of the fact they were fighting amongst what looked to be a river of dead bodies, some troopers from both sides slowly getting up.
Meta continued to dodge the blade of the sith, side stepping and parrying the blade at the siths wrist. The sith was growing tired of the confrontation and brought his blade up in a mighty and surprisingly fast motion. Meta took advantage of this sloppy move, becoming a blur of motion his hand latched onto the wrist of sith. Meta's free hand violently beating down on the sith as he crushed his wrist. The lightsaber slipped from the siths hands as he cried and groaned in pain. "Urrhfff!" He cried as Meta landed a crippling blow on the siths face. Breaking his jaw and sending him spiralling to the ground. Meta called upon the force, the sith's blade now spiralling to his palm, he caught it, ignited the red blade and walked over to the sith. The sith turned around on his back, looking up in spite of the emotionless inhuman figure standing over him. The red blade highlighting the features of Meta's mask, the red blade sunk into the chest of the sith. Not speaking a word he jerked the body aside and dropped the blade. He grunted and kicked the body, before turning to see most of his men on their feet, they had been watching one of them charged towards him, his lightsaber in hand. "Sir, I think you'll be needing this." Meta nodded. "Thankyou trooper." He took the blade and made his way up a few steps to get a better view of the room. "Troops, hold on." Meta called his comlink, signalling the medics outside. "How many of our troops are ready to get going?" The medics had been working as hard as they could to replenish their numbers. "Most of em are ready to go, shall we send them in?" Meta took a moment, scanning the area. "Yes, and bring all of your equipment, I have many more wounded here now." There was a moment of silence from the medic as he was busy relaying the commands to everyone else. "Right away sir, just stay where you are. We're on our way." With that the com fell silent, and Meta put his saber to his belt. "Listen up, whoevers able. Come with me, the wounded stay here. Medics are on their way with our replenished brothers. Direct them to the armoury, that is where I shall be." One wounded clone sat up against rubble nodded and gave the jedi a thumbs up. "You got it sir."
Now that everything had been settled, Meta and ten to twenty able bodied troopers made their way to the armoury. It wasn't far ahead, and they could hear blaster fire. Meta wondered how group three and two were holding up.
