The Republic Counter-Invasion of Prakith [Republic vs. One Sith]

[Jaxton Ravos]

Allies: [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Quinn Vos"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Darth Shara"] [member="The Hound"]

Jaxton saw the Sith Lightning coming, but with the Hound being so close he wasn't able to stop it. He flinched, but maintained the grip on the Sithspawn's sword arm. His lightsaber arm shook for a brief moment, but quickly realigned to it's initial position as Jaxton began to undergo Hassat-Durr once again, channeling the lightning around him and keeping him from further harm. The Sithspawn's hand would grip across his face in a crushing motion, lightning still pouring from it, and it seemed they'd be in a race between Jaxton's saber at the Hound's heart or the crush of the Hound's grip on Jaxton's face. But that lightning? It would all be redirected into the Hound, just as powerful as he had sent it.

Between the force-enhanced reflexes of Jaxton and the Hound, Jaxton would have wagered the entire process had taken up a second-and-a-half, maybe two since Jaxton had initially ignited his saber. His exo-skeleton seemed to be energy resistant, but it could only hold on for so much longer . . .


Meanwhile the "other" Jaxton's who looked like Chiss were fighting the various Slayers and One Sith guards lying around. They'd carve them up pretty well, but ultimately they were serving one purpose. To ensure that none of Quinn, Ryan, or Jaxton's duels were interrupted.

 

[The Hound]

Enemy: [member="Jaxton Ravos"]

Redirection with his head? Unexpected. The redirected lightning danced along his body, it burned the the red mane that sat around his neck, but other than that effect the lightning seemed to barely tickle the beast. Compensating. His mind worked on instinct, like a beast, testing the water with its nose, the Hound had burned his, wasted valuable time. With a growl he reached out with the Force, drew it into himself and did something he should have done before.

The lightning in his left hand drew back and that horrible sound came once again. Kinetite danced in the palm of his hand, he brought it down on the mechanical arm. The damage to both of them would be significant, but not enough to finish the fight.

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

[member="The Hound"]

Jaxton Ravos was still holding a lightsaber on the Hound's heart, and had been for about two seconds now, maybe more, when he spotted the Sithspawn gather electricity in his sword hand. Well, not electricity in the normal SIth Lightning sense, but instead the forming of Kinetite. Like before Jaxton was fighting a problem, and like before he still had the same solution. It took a lot more concentation this time to make an electromagnetic field that made the kinetite float around his body, but that wasn't because the kinetite was stronger or because it was close range. It was because the Sith Sword in the same hand was a magnet for Sith Lightning and he had to put in some extra "Oomph" to stop it from having it detonate on his sword and likely remove both their arms. Once floating on his body rather than detonating Jaxton dealt with the Kinetite the same way a then-Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker dealt with Darth Vader's Kinetite. He simply force pushed it away. it would travel behind Jaxton until it hit something, likely a Yuuzhan Vong Slayer, where it would detonate, kill a lot of NPC's, and probably take another large chunk of floor somewhere. Whether the Republic or the One Sith claimed this citadel at the end of the day it seemed that they'd quite the re-decorator for the meditation chamber. Meanwhile Jaxton's saber kept onto where the Hound's heart should be. Unless the exoskeleton was made of Beskar it should be cut through at any moment now. Jaxton just had to hold on a little bit longer.

 

[Quinn Vos]

Frienemies: [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Darth Shara"] [member="The Hound"]
Frienemies: [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Jaxton Ravos"]

The force flowed through the Kiffar's body. Where she lacked in education and My Fair Lady poise, she more than made up for in physical combat. Using force speed, she reached back, mocha-fingers curling around a beskar coated arrow shaft. She brought it up to block the first lightsaber attack of the Dark Queen but not before the very tip of the woman's violet blade kissed the outer edge of her hip.

The Velok emblem was stuffed into the waistband of her pants as she traded it for another Nagai dagger, sacrificing its power for her hand. The Kiffar torqued at the waist as Isolda's second violet saber singed the arm hairs on the wrist holding the blade but did not take the appendage. Still keeping an eye on the first blade with her arrow shaft and once Isolda's second blade passed, she flung the dagger the short distance for the woman's gut. She followed up with an attack to lunge the arrow shaft, pointy-end, for the prophetess' left kneecap.

 

[The Hound]

In frustration and anger more than the thought of self preservation The Hound flailed his sword arm, swinging Jax first right, dragging the blade along his body, and then left. It left a grey smudge on his white body as the blade dragged, burning away the white substance slowly. Burning sulfur was a powerful stench in the air as the plasma blade dragged all along the surface of his body. The Hound roared in anger and snorted in frustration. As Jaxton would have observed earlier, the Hound was strong, able to wield a Sith Sword as easily as he would a lightsaber, hopefully the Chiss wouldn't suffer too terribly from whiplash.
[member="Jaxton Ravos"]

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

Allies: [member="Jaxton Ravos"] | [member="Quinn Vos"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Shara"] | [member="The Hound"] | [member="Darth Isolda"]

The young Jedi hung in the air above Shara, his body at a near vertical angle, like a diver springing into the water headfirst. He was in the act of bringing his lightsaber down toward Shara's head, when the monstrous Sith lifted his own blade straight overhead and ignited it. Time became a microcosm as the length of violent red extended. Korr grit his teeth and swung his blade, but not fast enough.

The length of contained plasma connected point-first with Korr's left thigh. The aura of turquoise surrounding the Jedi Knight fought against the crimson glow, nullifying nearly all of the damage, but at least a quarter of the thermal energy broke through. Ryan's saber slammed into Shara's and, unable to move the behemoth's arm, Korr pushed, using the momentum to alter his trajectory as he tried to bring his legs over. He finished the mid-air flip, but the heat that had broken through his cocoon of energy left a shallow burn along the outside of his thigh. Altering of his trajectory had saved him from death or loss of limb, but he did not escape unharmed.

Korr landed behind Shara. Both combatants now stood back to back.

The demon Sith's height, normally a terrifying edge, now proved a woeful disadvantage. The differential between a six foot three Jedi and a ten foot behemoth meant two things. First, the Maelibus, no matter how fast he might run in a straight line, would have a terrible turning speed simply due to his size. One could only negate the laws of physics so much. Secondly, the Vonduun Skerr Kyrric armor Shara wore, while impervious to a lightsaber, did have gaps. At the neck, beneath the arms, and at the crotch. The groin was conveniently protected by a cup. And the buttocks had a sort of tasset-like projection, much like a skirt. If, however, one were very, very tall and facing someone four feet shorter such a skirt really wouldn't provide much protection at all if the opponent in question were to do some anal probing with a 1.2 meter stick of contained plasma.

Which is exactly what Ryan Korr did.

Normally stoney features twisted in a wince at the pain in his thigh upon landing, but Ryan managed to transition from landing to counter-attack without pause. The red-haired Jedi reversed his hold on the hilt with a flick of the fingers and thrust backward and up, aiming to skewer the Maelibus in the nether regions.

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

[member="The Hound"]

The Hound of the Prophetess was strong, but Jaxton was still a large man. About two meters high and exceeding the Hound of the Prophetess's weight by nearly a hundred pounds he was moved, shaken, but not exceedingly quickly. The whiplash was strong, but so was Jaxton's body. His lightsaber moved for a second, but then Jaxton let it go. Far from fall to the floor however Jaxton merely held it with the Force, using what little telekinetic might he had to put it exactly where he had ignited it. It was a risky move, one that could result in him being without a weapon for the rest of the fight. But Jaxton had been holding that lightsaber on the Hound's heart for nearly three seconds. He'd wager he just needed one last push to finish this. And he was perfectly fine with dealing with the whiplash until then.

 

[The Hound]

Opponent: [member="Jaxton Ravos"]
Enemies: [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Quinn Vos"]
Allies: [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Darth Shara"]

The hilt left the Chiss' blue hand, kept in place by the Force. If he had made that decision earlier the fight would have gone another way, instead now his body hissed as the white, crust-like skin of the beast sizzled. The Hound's chest tensed and he let out an ear piercing screech as the blade ate through and pierced his chest, the blade stopped at the other end by the same strange material.

The blade missed his heart, tipped by the Hound's own Telekenesis. Pain surged through his body fueling his rage. His presence in the Force to one sensitive to such shifts was intoxicating and overwhelming. The red blade was slowly pulled out of his chest, the Hound's power pushing against the Chiss' own. Painful the process was, but pain was a means to an end, and that end would be the destruction of all whom apposed Isolda. Ripping it from the Chiss' grasp he tossed the saber to the floor with the Force.

The left hand that had failed in delivering a kineite blast to the man's mechanical arm, which was still firmly planted on it, gripped it tight, stressing the limp as he pulled out, to the left, attempting to rip the Chiss' mechanical grip from his own arm.

Rage is a Hell of an anesthetic.

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

[member="The Hound"]

His lightsaber was gone and The Hound of the Prophetess was still going, despite taking a shot through his heart, or probably right around it. He might have angled the blade or perhaps Jaxton was just off his initial aim, but either way it was likely he was missing a few arteries right now. Slowly the Hound pulled the lightsaber out of his chest, probably leaving another hole on the other side of his body in the process, but then threw it away. His telekinetic strength was too much for Jaxton to interfere with the pullout or the throw. But Jaxton could try to re-direct his blood flow, as he was only pumping so much blood right now. Emitting Zeltron Pheromones was normally something Jaxton didn't do, but for now it served a tactical rather than seductive purpose. He didn't know how long the pheromone emission would take to get the Sithspawn going, but the move was essentially a free one. No extra risks taken.

Meanwhile the Hound put his left hand onto Jaxton's left hand and began to rip it across. Jaxton didn't have any nerve attachments on his prosthetic, so he couldn't feel how fast the durasteel was tearing, but he knew the Hound was strong and it wouldn't take long. So Jaxton, who had always been a Force Speed user first and foremost, took his right pointer finger and went to jab it into the hole that made by his lightsaber nearly as fast as a slugthrower could shoot a bullet. At this distance and with Jaxton's reflexes he'd be able to account for simple things like the Hound angling his arm or rotating his torso to try and dodge it. Depending on where the hole was it might gone through his heart and killed him or around his heart and just give him enough pain to where he'd hopefully be down for the count. But if the Hound let go of his prosthetic early he should have been fast enough to block the strike. If he tried that Jaxton's others fingers would extend and he'd go to grab at the Hound's other arm, content to do high-stress things like wrestle until the adrenaline died out and the Hound's overstressed blood system couldn't support him anymore.

 

[The Hound]

[member="Jaxton Ravos"]

The finger jabbed into the dry, burned flesh within shooting another wave of pain through his chest. The Hound jerked back in pain like an animal who had just been stung by its prey. The arm that had been attempting to tear the arm apart jerked out quickly, bringing with it any thing that came with it, he even dropped his Sith Sword in his movement. The Force fueled his movement, his leap, though unintentional broke the hold of the weakened mechanical arm.

He bumped into a Vong Slayer, both growled, the Vong Slayer did not live to learn the error of his challenge. The Hound snapped around and grabbed the Vong's face in a tight grip with his right hand. The Force surged through the Hound's white claws, electrocuting the Vong. He grunted in satisfaction.

Now a few feet between the two combatants the Hound huffed and puffed, his hand covering the medium sized hole on the right of his chest. The Zeltron's wiles seemed to be lost on the white beast, but something was not right. He stood up tall, and for some reason, he looked almost...angry.

Pain.
Aid.
Require.
Fear.
Kill.

These feelings were sent throughout the Meld

 

[Darth Isolda]

Frienemies: [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Darth Shara"] [member="The Hound"]
Frienemies: [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Jaxton Ravos"]

The force flowed through the Kiffar's body. Where she lacked in education and My Fair Lady poise, she more than made up for in physical combat. Using force speed, she reached back, mocha-fingers curling around a beskar coated arrow shaft. She brought it up to block the first lightsaber attack of the Dark Queen but not before the very tip of the woman's violet blade kissed the outer edge of her hip.

The Velok emblem was stuffed into the waistband of her pants as she traded it for another Nagai dagger, sacrificing its power for her hand. The Kiffar torqued at the waist as Isolda's second violet saber singed the arm hairs on the wrist holding the blade but did not take the appendage. Still keeping an eye on the first blade with her arrow shaft and once Isolda's second blade passed, she flung the dagger the short distance for the woman's gut. She followed up with an attack to lunge the arrow shaft, pointy-end, for the prophetess' left kneecap.

The dagger would pierce right under her ribcage, hitting down to the hilt. A guttural cry of supreme rage would rip from Isolda's throat, the pain lashing and blooming into a burst of agony. While her armor would protect her from Force attacks, piercing damage would still take.

The sudden stab would prompt a quickening of her speed. The arrow would take, but the sudden movement would only lance it upon her thigh. Consequences? No

An allowance.

A bloodprice. Isolda had one thought only. The Wild Child. One cannot stop an action from following the law of motion, Quinn's lunge towards Isolda to make that last strike would mean that the Chosen one's subsequent surge for her would take.

Twin buttons would click the deactivation switch, a method of trakata, and then suddenly as the distance would close, the Wild Child would find that the true purpose of the Vahla was to do one simple act.

Crash into her.

Touch bode touch. The little Kiffar would be known to the woman-- month's back, her connection to her apprentice Darth Odium saw this little girl and Isolda heard the call.

It was all a path that would lead the woman here. All part of the plan.

Her Will. Her Fate. Velok emblem or no, this manner of conviction would not be swayed from the Chosen.

The corner of her mouth would perk, just as those arms would come round, crashing upon the Kiffar to pull her in her embrace.

An embrace that would bring skin to skin. Flesh to flesh. Here, standing round a room of memory stones and nihil smokestone, the Wild Child would soon reap and learn of sacrifice.

 

[Valerie Vizsla]

[member="Ryan Korr"]

Shara shifted.

He didn't try to turn or smack the Jedi, he didn't even try to stop the lightsaber. Instead he dove forward. His massive forward moved in a giant leap, biting the air with huge teeth. The lightsaber bit into his thigh, cutting the gap in his armor but not slicing him in twine, instead reaching under the Vonduun Skerr Kyrric and slicing into his buttocks slightly.

The massive Demon lord's eyes opened open as he struck the ground, claws first. Pain lanced through him, but instead of howling in pain he instead pushed through the earthen rock of the floor.

As his species was want to do, Shara dug into the ground. In an instant he used his massive claws and a dash of the force to propel himself through the floor, digging his way to the level below and coming up with a hard crack against the stone below. He rolled to a stop, standing faster than he should have, then with a powerful pull of the force wrenched Ryan through the gap that he had created.

His behind burnt.

He wouldn't sit for a week.

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

Allies: [member="Quinn Vos"] [member="Ryan Korr"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Darth Shara"] [member="The Hound"]

The Hound jerked, ripping apart at Jaxton's mechanical hand and taking with it three of Jaxton's fingers, as well as a little over half his palm. Despite this there was no exclamation of pain or surprise. He'd lost his prosthetic before, he wasn't surprised, and he made sure not to hook it up to any nerve attachments for events like this. The Hound was probably going through immense pain, but still had the energy to attack one of his comrads, a vong that suffered a powerful electrocution. While the Hound was using his energy to summon lightning Jaxton was using a duo of minor telekinetic motions. Namely taking his opponents Sith Sword and his own lightsaber off the ground and into his hands. The blade wobbled a bit in the zeltron's hand, but held there steady. He wouldn't be able to bring about a powerful swing with it, but that wasn't the intent. The intent was to ensure that the weapon wasn't picked up by the Hound. As the Hound stood and stared at the now dual-wielding Zeltron pheromones would continue to pour out of Jaxton and help the Hound reach a biological imperative. Jaxton would lower his frame and adopt a defensive position as he waited for the Hound to make a move.

"It's not too late to run." He'd say. One one hand he was offering a chance of mercy, but on the other it could be seen as a taunt. In either case it helped burn time, and the Sithspawn didn't have much time at all.

 

[Quinn Vos]

Enemies:[member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Darth Shara"]
Allies: [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Jaxton Ravos"]

The Kiffar twisted her toned-body in anticipation of blocking Isolda's blades but found that the woman was straight-up charging her for a tackle. She tipped her weight to the side but couldn't avoid Isolda's armored-chest slamming into her own side pinning one arm against the prophetess' body. She felt the pale skin of the other woman connect against her sun-kissed flesh. Her time with Odium had taught the Kiffar much control over psychometry but that control was held by a thin-thread. The thread was about to be snapped.

Fiery-eyes widened as she felt her control slipping. A scream ripped through her throat. The heel of her left foot rose and she went to pound it on top of Isolda's right foot. Muddy-brown haired head whipped to the side and back again as she tried to side head-butt the prophetess in the nose. Her free hand rose, the glint of another dagger in the light as she brought it arching above her body and down toward the left side of the woman's neck - the exposed part of the armor.

 

[Darth Isolda]

[member="Quinn Vos"]

​

Visions would sear through blood and flesh. Shadowy figures that would bleed onto the Wild Child, merging Isolda's memories with hers.

They would blur, turn into one.

Until that chain of memories would uncoil and fall.... making them Quinn's own...

...tell ͟me̡ w͟h̕at͏ ҉y̶o̶u ̧c͞ràv͟e̶, ͘s̀o̸ ̢t̵h̡a̴t́ ͟I ̀mi̶gh̀t ̢deny ̴y͝ou.̕...​

​

The energy fired out of its constraints like a comet, a sudden burst of searing like that fired much like a blaster bolt but a million times more powerful. It pieced the inside of her eye and exploded outwards, utterly unseen by the unattuned eye. Coils of power and crackling energy erupted from her, a true vessel of the Goddess Vahl. ​

​

Echoes of the past. Whispers in the dark. Her Lord. Her Master. Her life. Her path to power. Each thought the other the tool. But who was the real one now? Who used the other?​

​

She felt the Darkside of the Force pulsate through her veins, run through her tattoos, giving her a high so high no spice could compare.​

​

Melodic laughter bubbled forth. Who used the other? ​

​

Who truly used the other? Who was the victor in this? ​

​

Yes. This was the beginning of the end. A soft whisper of a voice broke the din.​

​

​

​

The struggle would see a bracing of her feet, both sabers falling to the floor with a clatter. The foot would strike, sending a shaft of pain up her foot and leg, but cushioned nonetheless by the thick leather. But pain was her lover; sadomasochistic was she. Her body bore the testimony that pain only induced pleasure and power, for she willingly and purposely would cut her flesh as a blood price to the Goddess.

.͜..ţel̛l͞ ͞m͝e wh͞at ̡y̴o̴u c͘h͘e̶rish̀ most, ̴s̷o͡ ͏I͜ w͟i̛ll know w̕hat͘ t̨o ̷t̴a̡ke f̸ro̷m ͞y̷o͜u.̀..̵.͟​

​

Lovely little Oracle; Whisper me my fate. One must die. You or I.

Emotions raged. Torment. Anger. Craving. Yessssssssss.... a bone-dry voice whispered into her crazed mind.

Closer, closer still. There. Her grin widened.​

​

The ultimate goal of any Sith was to free herself from such restrictions, but not in the simplistic meaning of just being able to do whatever she wanted. For one who has freed themselves from all restrictions has reached perfection, their potential fulfilled.... ​

​

Perfect strength, perfect power, perfect destiny. ​

​

Imagine it...​

Blunt trauma would pierce her foot, and Isolda gave a hiss -- a hiss that turned into laughter as the Wild Child's cheek would smash against her nose.

​

.̧.̶.̛t͝èl̨l҉ me ͞of̶ your̵ ͠gre͠a̕te͏şt͏ fear.̨... s̷o I͞ wi̧ll̀ kņòẁ w̴h̵ic̷h͘ I̸ m҉u̕s͢t ̴f̵o҉r҉ce ̧y̢ou ̕ţo f̀a̢çe̕.͞.͢.​

​

Shadows of visions, the mists swirling in the depths of that Pandora's box. Torment. Anger. Craving. Her lips were a deeper red than ever before-- blood red.​

​

​

Hot breath met his, Quinn's face moving as if to kiss Him -- only to instead press her forehead against his with the briefest of caresses. ​

​

​

A loving touch amidst the sadomasochistic travesties caused by them both. After all, she loved him; as much as any sentient with a dark heart could love. ​

​

"My Lord...." She whispered with longing regret just before she was blasted back. Lightning flashed in her glittering eyes, and power surged within her. It poured off her in immense, hungry, dark waves. ​

​

Blood would pour, a crimson rain that would draw her head to the right in a snap.

​

..̡.Tęl͠l ͡m̡e͡ ͟w͝h͏at̵ ̷yơu̸ ŗegard ͝as̀ yo̢u̶r g̕r͘ęa̸te͡s͝t̷ ́şt͟ren̴gt̸h͢.̵.́.​

​

The visions came in an instant. Painful. Wretched. Sickening. Her body screamed out in agony at the invasion of the Darkside spurring on the vision. The pain was excruciating but that only added to her delight. ​

Pain; unimaginable ripped through her as she crashed through the metal. Her only salvation was the training Apparatus provided to use to soften the blow and use the pain to feed the Darkside of the Force. ​

​

She landed in a heap on a soft cushion of tall bright green grass. Blood slowly trickled from her wounds, staining the earth. ​

​

Broken. Beaten. Left like yesterdays trash. ​

​

..̛.̷s̡o I̴ wil̛l k͏now͟ how b̴e̶st̕ to u͟nder͞mi̡n͠e y̢ou͠...​

But not before the Eye of the Dark Lord's hand would come reaching up to clamp round that wrist of the hand that would draw the dagger at her throat.


Her free hand would clutch and tug the woman ever closer. Close enough that flesh would bind with flesh with a glue of Isolda's blood spouting between them.


"A blood price paid. Sacrifice." Sanguine coated teeth would part in a smile, and a slow laughter would bubble forth. The strain of muscle would bear that tip of the dagger close to Isolda's neck, so close that a bead of blood would cut the membrane of the dimple of flesh.

Isolda's hand would put a rush of pressure upon Quinn's wrist, bending it back to induce her to drop the blade.

"I know you, Child. I walked with you once upon a dream."

Yes. In a cave. In the Dark. Where Odium's dagger had touched upon the mocha flesh. Blood had been spilt and in it a remembrance.

A destiny.

 

[The Hound]

[member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Quinn Vos"] [member="Jaxton Ravos"] [member="Darth Shara"] [member="Ryan Korr"]


Pheromones was a form of communication that was a constant through many species in the Galaxy. Sometimes they were emmitted in fear as defense, more often they were one of sexual desire, to mate. Those of the Zeltron were sensual in nature however...The Hound was not a being made to mate but a being to serve. However his biological background denied total immunity to such strange tactics. Instead...It muddied communication to the Force, a hidden side effect of his creation.

WHER ARE YOU? ​

I CANNOT SEE​

Why have you abandoned me?!​

His connection disrupted he cried out loudly in the Force to Isolda and the other Hounds. Effectively he was partially blinded and like a frightened predator he became increasingly violent. His eyes narrowed at the Chiss male in anger. It was him. He was doing this. His body trembled in rage, the Force built up around him, small particles of dust began to float around him. Rage filled the air as all inhibition was lost and the full power of this beast was coming to a head.

His long red hair began to float around him along with the black tattered cloth around his waist. Rubble drifted around him and even the body of the Vong began to rise. A deep rumble echoed through the room as it began to shake, the weaker parts of the wall such as pictures or shards of the wall from The Hound's earlier attack broke away and began to orbit the beast. And then it happened.

Pure unbridled rage left the Hound in an incredibly destructive display of telekinetic power. Force Repulse. It exploded from its epicenter and ripped through the room without discrimination blowing away friend and foe, disintegrating the portraits and other things . A few Vong found that they themselves were knocked back but their weapons, if non-vong, were destroyed. One or two found chunks of the wall flying fast enough to decapitate. Debris flew in all directions, dust clouded the room and a ghastly howl filled the ears of those within the chamber. If something wasn't done soon, either by the creator of the pheromones, or the one whom held his leash, there would be many more casualties than need be.

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

Allies: [member="Jaxton Ravos"] | [member="Quinn Vos"]
Enemies: [member="The Hound"] | [member="Darth Isolda"] | [member="Valerie Vizsla"]

Korr's blade jerked in his hand, cutting into the Sith Lord, but not impaling. The jaded young Jedi set himself into a forward roll, wary of the Maelibus' wily reach. He came up and pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees, gray eyes searching. A sliver of surprise shot through him. The Sith stood, back to him, claws slashing at the ground. It appeared to be digging. Confusion heaped on Ryan.

The work went swiftly for the monstrosity, but even when putting its whole focus into the act it could only tunnel so fast. Korriban was not built in a day, though Maelibus tunnels were. A minute, mayhap less, was all the time the creature would take. Seconds, yes, but in the hot haze of battle four heart beats spelled the difference between life and death.

The Jedi Knight made as if to leap at the busy Maelibus, preparing to sever head from neck in one swift jumping slash. A sudden scream cut through the fray's frightful din and set frost to his soul. He inhaled sharply, acutely aware of Quinn's hot-blooded sensations sweeping through the Force. Triumph and pain. Ryan grit his teeth, sweat running from scarlet hair slick with the perspiration to sting at his eyes as they narrowed on the Darth known as Shara. He sought not vengeance or justice, merely an end. No foreign fate could aid or hinder, not with the emblem of Velok burning away all strings of fortune's whims. Today would be won or lost by the choices and actions of individuals, not pawns.

The air grew still for a precious eye blink. Calm and serenity merely falsehoods, the prelude to a storm, like waves ceasing to beat on a swiftly barren shore in the breathless moments before the awesome power of the typhoon. Then the crashing might of the Hound's telekinesis bore down on all present, uprooting Korr like a sapling and launching him through the air. Bits of rubble pounded at him, gouging into his face and hands, tearing into his robes. He crashed into the wall and crumpled to the floor. The turquoise aura floating above his skin flickered, fading slowly. The skin-tight bubble of Force Protection had shielded him from the worst of it, but even so his head rang and his limbs felt numb save for flashes of hot pain.

Grunting, he struggled to his knees, then his feet. Pulverized bits of duracrete fell from his robes, dust stuck in his hair and matted muddily to a new array of bleeding cuts on his cheek. He glared through the pain, searching for the Maelibus through the sudden smog of dust.

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

Allies: [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Quinn Vos"]
Enemies: [member="The Hound"] [member="Darth Isolda"] @Darth Shara

The signs of an attack coming would be all too obvious. The floating hair, the drifting debris, the rising Vong, the shaking walls, the orbiting paintings? All of that happened quick, but not quick enough for Jaxton to miss what was going on. He was gathering what strength he had left after two kinetites and two stabs to the heart for what was likely a desperate, all out, last chance attack. Like a cornered animal he'd give the attack all his strength, despite any possible consequences. The Repulse was an telekinetic assault that would have made Galen Marek proud, but Jaxton was not on the receiving end of it. In the all the time he'd spent to focus and gather strength for his attack Jaxton had gone behind one of the five Nihil Smokestone pillars in the room, Sith Alchemized for increased durability that probably bordered on lightsaber resistance. Chances were it would hold against the Hound's assault, but if it did not then the roof would surely cave on top of him.

While Jaxton's hair flowed forward and he could feel the 'wind' of the telekinetic attack at the sides of the pillars Jaxton deactivated his lightsaber and put it on his belt, before taking the Sith Sword in his main hand and putting additional grip with the one-finger and one-thumb left mechanical hand he had and plunged it into the ground good with the Force reinforcing his strength and speed. Locked the weapon in place for a moment, so Jaxton didn't have to carry it around. He'd then put his lightsaber back into his hand and, provided the telekinetic assault was still going, Jaxton would begin to reach out with his mind to the two fighting at his side.

Though Jaxton didn't have the sort of power in Battle Meditation to empower fleets or make everyone on a star destroyer feel a sudden need to relieve themselves, he did have a talent for the skill in smaller applications. In his youth he'd used a minor version of in instinctively as he played grav-ball, but today he used it to give new strength and resolve to the minds of [member="Quinn Vos"] and [member="Ryan Korr"]. Ryan Korr would likely feel rejuvenated, getting a second wind, but for Quinn the battle meditation would mean something far greater. Even empowered by the five Nihil Smokestone pillars Jaxton would not have been able to dispel the mass of visions and mental attacks put on by [member="Darth Isolda"], but he would have been able to give the huntess a shield with which to face the overwhelming darkness. At the very least she would know that she was not alone.


He could only hope that that would be enough.

 

[Quinn Vos]

EnemiesDarth Isolda @Darth Shara
Allies: @Ryan Korr @Jaxton Ravos
(Sorry for the wait all!)

"NO," raw voice left a strained neck, exploding into the air.

Each vision was like a mental punch. She felt the pool of darkness, calling and whispering her to jump back in. It was oily and slick, like Odium's touch.

Isolda's fingers on her wrist caused her to drop the blood-stained dagger.

"No," a whimper left a mouth of grinding teeth as the Dark Lord's booming voice crept along the edges of her mind as she became lost within Isolda's mind. Come to me Quinn Vos. Be mi--

The voice was immediately cut off as she was ripped from the woman's grasp by an invisible shock-wave. She saw a streak of red fly by. Korr. Heart ached painfully in her chest. Her back cracked against the bubble of protection from her own making and a now crumbling wall of the chamber. Her tanned-form crumpled on the ground, gashes and nicks from flying debris dripping small, crimson streams, like the color of Isolda's lips, down the contours of her skin.

Just when the voice threatened to whisper in the echoes of her mind, she felt herself enveloped by a blanket - no, an armor of strength. A shield of strength. It emanated from the direction of the sith chiss. How long he was able to keep the dark lord's voice at bay was yet to be seen but her huntress' gaze was already searching out for Isolda. Two clenched fists lifted as she sought to have the ground of the chamber open and swallow Darth Isolda, much as the dark lord threatened to swallow the Wild Child.


[member="Jaxton Ravos"] [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Darth Isolda"]

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

The shriek of rending stone split the air a second time. Korr spun, only to witness the Maelibus vanish as he toppled through shattered stone, possibly falling to the level beneath. ​The floor's integrity must have been compromised by the demon's digging and that blast.

Breath sawing in and out and setting his lungs aflame, Ryan turned to the remaining combatants. The original haze of the chamber swirled with the pulverized dust of the explosion into an obfuscating, attenuating smog that drew the eye toward shadows. Korr drew on the Force to aid his vision and at once the physical fell away and a world of crystalized blues, pinks and reds opened up.

Beyond broken bodies which lay strewn like so many scattered tools, used and discarded, lay their master - [member="Darth Isolda"]. She still stood upon the dais, though streams of bright ichor poured from her wounds. She was weak.

Gray eyes flicked toward [member="Quinn Vos"], who still stood in opposition to this Eye of Darkness. Defiance roared from her, a volcanic fury erupting into molten power.

The dust-covered Jedi glowered, ignoring scrapes, bruises and the saber cut to his leg as love and duty fueled his will to fight. In three bounds he crossed the intervening distance between himself and the battling women, then launched himself into the air. A high flip carried him over Isolda's head as he landed behind her.


[member="Jaxton Ravos"], [member="The Hound"]