The Sacking of Coruscant

[Ryn'Dhal]

Objective: A
Allies: Non-Sith, [member="Relit Vandal"]
Enemies: Sith and Sith-Allies, [member="Darth Ayra"]

Ryn had no time to think, only to react. He knew he stood no chance in catching the child at that moment, but he knew he had no chance at aiding her if he took a saber to the face. So, he willed the Force through his being, his physical body surging with vigor. He was turning with obscene speed, his already naturally absurd reflexes and agility heightened excessively by the Force. A quick pivot, and a spring away, was bolstered further by the arriving Jedi Relit's added Force Push.

The combined effect of all of this visually, it seemed almost as if the Padawan instantly teleported a short distance away. Without pausing to consider how far he had moved, the Padawan concentrated, lifting his hands suddenly with a unnaturally loud and aggressive (for him) yell. In perfect synchronization with his yell and movement, a surprisingly large number of hunks of debris suddenly leapt into the air.

"YOU!!!! MONSTER!!!!" He roared, his righteous fury unleashed. She DARED to harm a child? She. Karking. DARED?! With that roar, he flung his hands forward, the storm of debris raining Holy Hell upon the Sith. He exhaled raggedly against his faceplate. Ryn genuinely cared not if the Sith witch survived. Child killers didn't deserve to live.

 

[Darth Ayra]

Objective A
Location: Outside the Sith Temple
Allies: Ziltch
Enemies: Relit Vandal, Ryn'Dhal

| [member="Relit Vandal"] | [member="Ryn'Dhal"] | [member="Cynthia"] |

Darth Ayra, ready to apply the finishing blow to the Padawan, found her would be victim sent flying away from under the will of another. She instantly turned to see who would dare interfere with her kill, to discover a knife flying at her body. Her lightsaber hummed through the air, cleaving through it to intercept the knife before it impacted her.

As the knife clattered at her feet off the parry, Ayra saw stars as she was assaulted by Ryn'Dhal. Stepping over the fallen knife, the Dark Lord staggered backwards under the assault. She struck her lightsaber out in self-defense, cleaving the larger pieces of debris out of her trajectory.

It gave the Jedi time to join forces. Or for Relit to send Ryn'Dhal and Cynthia on their way. Either was a choice, whilst Ayra dealt with the oncoming barrage.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

DING-DONG! Knocking on the front door.
Location: Front Door of the Defense Controls
Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Cyril Grayson"], Galactic Alliance, Silver Sanctum Peeps
Enemies: One Sith... [member="Reverance"]
Equipment: Stated in post... Links in sig/bio to custom stuff.

Well, he had to admit, the Jedi knew how to make an entrance, at the very least. Slapping a fresh drum into his rifle, Ijaat charged head-long at the barricade. This charge was slower than the one before, more measured, but still faster than even a peak-conditioned soldier could manage. Burst of light and roars of thunder were steady as he went, and men died and fell. The barricade though, it still stood, and that was a problem. The men behind it were sufficiently thinned, but not gone, and their entrenchment still held for the moment.

Activating his shield again, Ijaat let his rifle fall back on it's sling and unlimbered a massive two-handed power-hammer. He hadn't used it since... Well... Probably a while back, when he and [member="Xander Carrick"] were still running together in the Mando's causing mayhem and wreaking havoc. A burst of speed as he neared the barrier, shots firing and sparking off his shield, and suddenly he leapt. Not quite at the level of a jedi, with their fancy Force-tricks, but agile and quite impressive for a man his age. The hammer in his hands swung up, glowing and sparking, and then came down, right on the center duracrete block of the barricade. There was a loud depressurization of air, and suddenly screams as debris and dust exploded out from where he had landed, the exact site obscured in the cloud of ruin.

"This is Ijaat, barrier is down... Soldiers are mostly dead or incapacitated. I'll need cover while I do the rest."

Not waiting for a reply, Ijaat holstered his DE-10's and grabbed his rifle in one hand, swiping the security badge from the squad leader he had slain earlier. With luck, the door hissed open, and he stepped inside, rifle just to the side of his shield, stalking forward. It was a small enough building, thankfully. It shouldn't take an unbearable amount of time to get within to the main controls. Waiting by the door for [member="Cyril Grayson"], he hollered into the comms again.

"C'mon glow-bug, we got work to do!"

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

Location: Outside of the Temple
Objective: Defend the Temple / Defeat Opponents
Allies: Defenders ([member="Nyte Ignis"])
Enemies: Invaders ([member="Aela Talith"] / [member="Jacen Voidstalker"])


A growl rumbled out from Xavka's throat as the Jedi he was facing ended up dodging his attack, moving back enough to cause a gap of a couple of metres to grow between him. That growl transitioned into a spat curse as Nyte's cry drew his attention to her and the new Jedi running towards her.

His attention now grabbed by this new enemy, Xavka made to approach the new Jedi, Jacen if the female Jedi was to be believed. His actions were not because he did not believe that Nyte could defend herself, the name he commonly addressed her with, I'Doz, proved as much with its meaning: "My Feminine Warrior" or "My Warrior". Instead it was because his own instincts overrode his logical thoughts, his feral mind reigning supreme, as the drive to protect his Mate overwhelmed him.

Suddenly finding himself flying through the air towards the Jedi he had turned his back on, the female, Xavka considered two courses of action within the span of less than a second. The first course would be to turn to face the female Jedi, preparing to block and respond to her next attack. The second would be to call on his most advanced ability, which would course his control over Art of the Small to be destroyed, on Jacen, weakening him for Nyte.

Acting as quickly as he could, Xavka directed his Force Presence towards Jacen and began to work. Slowly, his Presence turned toxic, seeping into and poisoning Jacen's Force Presence where it would take root before effecting his body. From there, the time it would take for neurons to travel through the Jedi's neural network would be greatly increased, slowing his thought process and reaction time. The truly devastating aspect of this ability was that it poisoned the person it affected and unless they were able to purge themselves of the root of the ability, it would continue to affect. This would leave Jacen with two options, continue to attack Nyte with this new weakness or pause, purge himself and offer the advantage of the battle to Nyte.

Xavka held the ability for as long as he dared, attempting to buy Nyte as much as an advantage as he could. In the end though, he was forced to stop as he neared the figure of the woman who was pulling him towards her through the Force. He twisted himself around so as to become face to face with the Jedi before channelling all of his anger at the attack on the Temlple down through his arm and into his hand where it immediately built into a maelstrom of darkness before being released as white, arcing branches of lightning.

The suddenness of his attack and the pressing need for him to preform it as soon as he could meant that it was weaker than what it normally would be when he conjured lightning with time and focus to spare.

 

[Veino Garn]

Objective: A
Location: Blocks away
Allies: [member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Darth Raijin"] [member="Judah Dashiell"]
Opponents: [member="Sera Inkari"] [member="Darth Hauntruss"] (Soon)
Gear: Jensaarai armor, Amulet, Bolter, Lightsaber, Occluder (In bio because I give up)
==============

Veino gave a nod as the rest of the strike force entered the sewer. Excellent. Now came the difficult part. They had to get to the Temple. He broke into a steady jog as the sound of blaster fire and explosions rocked through the structures around them. It wasn't a long journey, but it certainly felt like it in this situation. He thought back to the route he'd memorized. Three straights, one right, one left, two straights, a right, and halfway to the next intersection. He didn't use the Force here, other than to keep his signature hidden. He'd need his energy for later on.

He passed the first intersection, and kept a count past each intersection, and then took a right, then a left, then the straights, the right and then he slowed. The view had been mostly the same the entire time. Dirty sludge and stinking filth splattered on duracrete walls. Occasional ladders up to the surface, most of which seemed too rickety to support his armor, so he didn't even consider them. He'd probably have to jump, which was equally unappealing.

He stopped halfway through and pulled out the plasma-torch, leaning the glow-rod against the wall. The tunnel burst to light as the torch came to light and Veino knelt in the sludge to start cutting through the duracrete. He reached out with the Force. Nothing dangerous here, but there was a dark vortex of dark energy right where he supposed the Temple to be. That was probably to be expected though. But no, this was different. It was much more deliberate. Probably some sort of spell.

The torch continued burning through the wall, leaving a red hot trail behind it as molten duracrete dripped down the edges into the sewage below, which threw up a great cloud of stinking steam. Veino gagged, but kept going. Then he was all the way around and kicked it forward with his boots. The chunk crumpled inward, revealing a gaping entrance way into the next set of tunnels. He stuck the torch back into his bag and stepped inside, hand on the Occluder, just in case.

But there was nothing. Just another set of tunnels, dry this time, and faintly lit from gaps in the ceiling. He tossed the glow-rod aside and pulled the Occluder from its holster. Too tight in here for the boltgun at this point. Dust fell from above as another explosion tore through the infrastructure. That battle was more intense. It was brutal. Guilt choked him momentarily for not being present to assist, but he shunted it aside. The objective was the purpose, not the battle itself. He still felt the deaths echo through the Force, places where there was once light only to be suddenly cut short. Time to get a move.

He started down the corridor again, bootsteps echoing through the hallway and leaving stinging puddles on the floor behind him. There was just one more transition to make and they'd be in the basement. He paused at the last point and pulled the torch out again. This was a longer cut, as the walls were thicker and more secure here. He looked away as the plasma burn flashed against some metal in the wall, sending sparks flying across his armor. That was a benefit of a closed suit. Almost there now.

 

[Jsc]

D
Space
00:10:00 -> 01:10:00

With the Fleets engaged in a long-range show of artillery, Blue Squad diverted to shaking down the picket and patrol craft in their immediate area. This chase lead them along far enough until the could encounter reinforcement military units into their sector. Planetary forces or smaller ships not aligned with the fleets mentioned thus far. Blue Squad ran out of torpedoes just before they hit their first space station. So they had to return to a friendly platform and restock.

The return to the station was uneventful and they deployed their bombs early. Force-sensitives could aim their torpedoes well out of normal range and still score amazing hits against a static installation. The Deathstar bearing witness to such feats. As such, the space station received tremendous damage long before the fighters even entered flak range. It was then that Blue Squad closed in for the kill and their guns against the same vector. Again, again, and again.

Yielding to the bombardment, the platform lost power and began a degrading orbit outside of Lagrange. The station was done. A job well done. Blue Squad returned once again to allied platform and reloaded. Their Hit-n-Run attacks would undoubtedly continue until a full fleet resolution had come to pass or they ran into opposition that was far too mean for just twelve starfighters. The financial damages alone delivered to Sith orbital assets would number well into the millions.

It was a good first hour.

 

[Kyrana Gould]

[member="Darth Hauntruss"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]

Coalition Fleet

Spoiler

1 x Paladin Class SD (0 ACS)

• Destiny (1600/1600) – Firing on Tyrant

2 x Crusader Class SD

• Justice (1600/1600)(7 ACS)
• Cavalier (1600/1600)(7 ACS)

1 x Heavenshield Class HC (0 ACS)

• Harbinger (0/632) -800/-168 – Firing on Adjudicator. Critical hit to bridge!

2 x Sentinel Class LC

• Majesty (500/500)(3 ACS)
• Resolute (500/500)(3 ACS)

5 x Guardian Class FG (0ACS)

• Wasp (300/300)
• Dart (300/300)
• Hoplon (300/300)
• Aegis (300/300)
• Bolt (300/300)

2 x Vigilance Class FG (0ACS)

• Vanguard (241/300) +30
• Forefront (271/300) +30

2 x Frontier Class CV

• Piquet (150/150)(1 ACS)
• Peltast (150/150)(1 ACS)

Total: 9,000m
Admiral Kyrana Gould commanding
(ACS = Attack Craft Squadrons)

One Sith Fleet

Spoiler

3 x Wyyrlok Class SD

• Tormentor (1300/1300)(6 ACS)
• Dominion (1300/1300)(6 ACS)
• Garganton (1300/1300)(6 ACS)

2 x Dark Blade Class HC (0 ACS)

• Malice (1050/1050)
• Terror (1050/1050)

3 x Vanguard Class HC (0 ACS)

• Adjudicator (585/625) -120 +65
• Tyrant (615/625) -75 +65
• Intimidator (625/625)

5 x Razer Class FG

• Slash (220/220)(1 ACS)
• Ravage (220/220)(1 ACS)
• Purge (220/220)(1 ACS)
• Maim (220/220)(1 ACS)
• Rend (220/220)(1 ACS)

Fleet NPC’ed with permission.

As the Harbinger moved into range its massive vortex cannon fired, along with its other long range guns. At the same time the twin vortex cannons on the Destiny opened fire also. Their target were the enemy cruisers foremost.
“Minimal damage only, sir. The range is still too long….”
The Admiral nodded her head absently. Though minimal damage had been caused they wouldn’t need much longer before they were in range with their main batteries.

“Enemy is firing!” Their target was obvious; the Harbinger.
Eight enemy ships, all of which had heavy weapons designed to deal death at long range, targeted the unfortunate ship.
Gould could see the cruiser’s shields flare as it took the impacts. One after another the bolts slammed home until finally it was too much for the abused ship. Flaring light lit up the Harbinger’s hull as heavy shots hit home.
“Sir…the Harbinger…”
“I can see. How bad?”
“We can’t get through to Captain Midas. Scans indicate an impact on the bridge…”
The Admiral winced. She would have to come up with a plan, and soon, or her whole fleet would be wrecked as well.

Map

Spoiler

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The fighter rolled, he had his mission, he’d get out there. But he was going to take down whatever got in his way. Hearing the wish for luck coming from [member="Narasa Kelori"], he double tapped the commlink and actually started to speak as his Arsix unit started prioritizing targets in his way to the station. “Keep the battle won up here, I’ll be back.” He laughed as he rolled the fighter and pushed the throttle. He’d do what damage he could in passing as he set up for his next mission.

Blasts came from his fighter’s laser cannons, thwap-thwap-thwap as one Sith fighter lit up into a ball of flame, to be extinguished by the lack of air. A left canopy roll was initiated when his shields took laser hits. Firing back at the fighters, he kept juking, down from his line of flight, above and then switched to missles. Seeing where the blast door to the hangar could get shut, he fired on one of the engines before blasting his lasers through the mag-con shields ahead of his fighter. Pulling the E-Wing into the safety of the flight deck, he brought the speed down, and Arsix was doing the rest.

Canopy popped open and Coren tossed himself from the chair, rolling and pulling out his light repeater and taking shots at Sith that were incoming. On his hip was the orange bladed, Corellian blood-steel hilted lightsaber, just in case he needed it. Coren preferred to be prepared.

What was it that Fin in Sharknado said?

Semper Paratus?

“Starchaser’s touched down in the hangar.”

[member="Friedrich Stahlmann"]

 

[Tiland Kortun]

The Doors
[member="Raien Keth"] [member="Evan Kenner"]


Tiland smiled, although rather bemusedly as the staff struck Raien in the knee. it buzzed up and down its length, jarring his hand. Wonderful. That would be the last time he tried to hit a Sith with a staff without imbuing it with the Force beforehand. Otherwise he might as well pick up a branch off the ground. Well, perhaps he'd just avoid striking ones in armor. Some of them were like Jedi and wore very little, in which case a staff would be much more effective.

"How exactly will you heal me... Jedi?" The Sith asked, or perhaps said would be the better word. Tiland sensed both in this situation. That was the question of the day was it not. It would be a difficult situation, to be sure. Tiland had some ideas, though. Raien was standing still too, so he must be taking it seriously.

"I would use the Force-" He was cut off as the Sith brought the lightsaber down in a cleave. So perhaps he was not taking the proposal seriously. Tiland pivoted to the left away from the blow as it crashed into the stairs and then he stepped back again as the rest of the strikes came his way, hissing through the air. Then he caught the much larger man's hip in the stomach and he flew back up the stairs, slamming into the ground, just barely stopping before cracking his head. Sharp pain seared along his side and stomach and as he looked down, blood pooled into his robes. Great. He reached into his bag, doubling over as the pain racked his body.

Attack. Destroy. Kill. Feed.

He froze as anger bubbled inside. Every genetic and early cultural fiber in his body screamed to attack and destroy, unleash his anger and rage, feed upon this insolent mortal. How dare he strike one that some would consider a god? His body tensed to leap back into the attack, but he caught himself. He pulled out a bacta patch and stuck it onto his injury. Nothing serious, by the feel of it. Not for him anyways, he'd recovered from worse than that. He reached into the tissue with the Force as well, congealing the blood and nudging the flesh to knit itself back together. Not enough time for a lengthy meditation, but a quickstart would help. He pulled his staff to him with the Force and straggled back up to his feet, retaking his stance, although not as steadily as every breath sent another lance of pain through his body.

The Force was his ally and it would sustain him. He let himself drift in its flow, taking strength and comfort from it. But oh, did those puncture wounds hurt.

 

[Saff]

Location: In the temple, hunting them data stores

Her lightsaber now extinguished, Ebony slumped against the wall, holding herself up with her forearm as beads of sweat rolled down her forehead, the two lifeless corpses of the sith guard laid behind her in pools of their own blood and a touch of her own as her suit suffered several cuts around her body where light amounts of blood seeped from. "Almost there" she muttered to herself as she got to work on her wrist computer in her bracer, fingers lightly dancing away as she heaved for each breath as if it were the last she would draw. A moment later and the giant doors to the holocron storage room opened to the raven haired girl and within were the stores of luminescent machines, buzzing away as the hordes of knowledge within were filled with life in the digital space.

Ebony sighed, forced herself upright and walked in, the door shutting behind her as she got to the nearest terminal and attached her device to it through a long cable, she giggled lightly at a simple thought, not yet a single sith to have stopped her aside from the two rather emotionless guards, now Ebony simply sat back and let her machine slowly download as much data as the albeit small but vastly intricate device could carry. Her grin remained as she wiped away her sweat and the leather suit slowly crept back together as the self replicating fibres went to work on returning the suit to it's original form, covering her new wounds and sealing them as well.

She looked at her wrist and realised she was going to be there for a while, best to begin setting up some traps, she had an hour after all before the device would hit maximum storage, so she removed her device, placed it on the terminals control pad, removed herself from her seat and walked off to the entranceway.

 

[Cynthia]

Location: A, apparently
Allies: Nice-Robot-Dude ([member="Ryn'Dhal"]) and Other-Bald-Dude ([member="Relit Vandal"]), I guess?
Enemies: That [member="Darth Ayra"] lady's a big meanie.

"EEP!" Cynthia was indeed not dead despite being flung a number of meters away into a concrete wall, somehow. That said, she wasn't without injury - a searing pain shot through her jaw as it cracked against the stone, followed by another spike of pain in her arm as she landed on - you guessed it - more concrete. What happened? What was happening? What was this indescribable torrent of pain rushing through her entire body? Why was her vision reddened and blurry? Where was Bugsy?

WHY ARE YOU HURTING MEEEEEEEEEEE

When a child feels any considerable amount of a negative emotion, be it physical, mental, or emotional, there is a single, universally-known response that said child will almost always resort to - crying. The snow-haired orphan was no exception to this; almost immediately, the tears began to flow, running down Cynthia's cheeks and dripping to the concrete underneath her. Soon, the two Jedi would be able to hear the little girl's sobbing to their left, echoing over the sounds of blaster fire, flying rubble, and explosions.

Yet, crying is not the only mechanism children possess. Often following crying is what tired parents have dubbed a "temper tantrum". And oh, did Cynthia throw a tantrum. Her arms gripped her head tight and she curled up into a little white ball, rocking back and forth in the tiny nook she had landed in, screaming into her dress and thrashing about as best she could in her rolled-up state (which is, to say, not particularly violently). But that was not all. As the tiny albino screamed and cried and thrashed, concrete began to lift up off the ground around her. First it was loose stones, whipping around her and flying in random directions. Then, large slabs began to lift, cracking in half in mid-air and careening off in different directions, some even flying towards the dueling Jedi & Sith. Rubble began to crack and crumble underneath her as if crushed by some unseen force.

Cynthia's tantrum was certainly...special.

 

[Archon Kaan]

Objective: Get some peace and quiet
Location: Underscant. Coruscant lower levels.
Allies: Dark Five
Opponents: Everyone


"Boss, we gotta do something boss. Them stinky Jedi are popping all over the place. Word on the towers is the Temple is about to fall. poodoo the Jedi will stink up the entire place by sticking their noses where they don't belong."

If you ever wonder why almost every villain of note keeps a toady around allow me to put that doubt to rest right now, purely for entertainment purposes. Toadies are fun, they ask stupid questions and then don't feel too bad when you rudely rebuke them. Of course they are usually too stupid to realize their mistakes and thus continue on as they always have, waiting for the next great crisis to arrive so that they may once again ask a stupid question and provide some much needed comic relief.

"Toady...the surface is not ours. I care not what happens to it."

The toady's eyes grew wide.

"Ah of course Boss, as you say. So shall I tell the men to stand down then?"

The man had his back turned to the toady. His was dressed all in black. Like a living shadow. Only his head was a different color, the color being chalk white. There wasn't a speck of hair on his head. The man picked up his mask and donned it, completing his outfit before turning his chair towards his waiting audience.

"I did not say that, did I? We shall watch. We shall wait and if the Jedi dare to come down too far...then the Dark Five will move."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Location: Prison
Objective: C
Enemies: [member="The Hound"], [member="Raziel"]
Allies: [member="Spencer Jacobs"] (remotely providing Force Valor)

A familiar strength filled Ashin as the last ringing left her ears. Spencer was nearby, then, amplifying her as she tended to do. Ashin took a slow breath and smiled. It was not, she knew, a nice smile. She'd tried nice smiles in the mirror without success. Not far away, four presences stood out to her limited senses. The usual variety of Dark-associated emotions filled the ether. With united roars, they charged in from three sides, with Force-accelerated speed. Two ahead of her, one to her left, one to her right.

So does fury make fools of us all.

She picked her moment and stepped forward as quickly as possible, pulsing her Force protection in case someone got lucky. The two rabid fighters to her sides struggled to avoid crashing into each other. Of the two in front of her, a sabre sweep caught one in the ribs with force sufficient to drive through. Instead, though, the alchemical carapace resisted the blade. She succeeded only in shoving one sithling against the other. A blade glanced off her Force protection from behind. With a grimace, she flicked her sabre's power switch and dialed the cutting power to maximum. Not a setting she liked to use in enemy territory due to power drain, but at the very least she had to eliminate that option before trying alternative measures.

She turned most of the way around and backstepped against a wall. That put two on her left, two on her right. Lightning lanced out from their hands as they recovered. She caught three of the streams; the fourth jolted her through the dissipating Force protection.

"Sorry, boys," she said, and found that she almost meant it. "Today isn't your power fantasy. It's probably mine."

With Spencer's help she had power to spare, and she'd been known to fill colossea with lightning in her day. In reply to their lightning she sent out her own, eye-searingly bright, a web of actinic blue. They caught some of it on their sabres, but tendrils snapped and wove around their guards. Lightsabres exploded, limbs convulsed, pale faces screamed beneath partial masks. Ashin felt nothing but cold, or perhaps the nothingness was the cold.

One by one, their knees buckled. Ashin inhaled: roast flesh, with the wrongness of Sithspawn. Whoever and whatever they'd been before their transformation, their service was over.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

Objective: A
[member="Xavka Duquo"]
[member="Nyte Ignis"]
[member="Aela Talith"]

Spoiler

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/57742-occluder-handcannon/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/68049-vt-jedi-vanguard-armor/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/65415-vt-grav-glove/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/11476-bti-cc13-blaster-rifle-ol-reliable/

The male acolyte’s anxiety was clear. Jacen had not seen the earlier exchange, but this reaction was enough for him to realise that he was acting irrationally in defence of his partner. There was no time for such heroics on the battlefield. He knew this both from his years of military experience, as well as Jedi training. If one could not abstract themselves from a situation and analyse it impartially, they applied personal traits to their decisions that could be recognised - could be taken advantage of.

As he exchanged blows with the female acolyte and attempted to batter away at her defences, he felt the subtle manipulations of the dark side. He braced himself, preparing for another attempted violation, just as the Sith had on Manaan. But nothing pressed against the outside of his significant mental barriers. Instead he felt the sudden, sharp pain of his nervous system being affected. The Sith apparently knew no bounds when it came to violating others, the dark presence working within sickened Jacen.

To use Art of the Small was incredible taxing for even a skilled master, to use it against an external presence would likely have been unbelievably draining for the acolyte. He was putting himself at great risk when Voidstalker had barely begun to enter his offensive saber routine against Nyte. Aela would certainly take advantage of such an opening.

Instead of attempting to deal with the attack directly, Jacen focussed on snapping a barrier into place around him, shielding himself from the harmful influence of the Force. However, he felt the harmful effects of the attack lingering and knew he needed to buy himself some time.

As his mental focus turned inwards, though slowly as it was akin to thinking through a thick haze now, his left arm shot forwards with his shoulder kept low and braced against the inevitable impact. The grav glove was activated. The sudden burst of power caused the air between them to shimmer faintly as something similar to a tractor beam connected the pair. The two second impulse was applied to him through the glove and to Nyte’s chest. The force was enough that even though he was well balanced in a typical Soresu stance, he was sent stumbling away. The laws of physics were in his favour, however. The same impulse was applied to both parties and Nyte had maybe two-thirds of the mass of Jacen. This ensured the acceleration applied to her own body was much greater. Hopefully it bought the time to remove the despicable influence from his body.

 

[Ellie Mors]

Objective: A - Kill Sith, Take their Cookies
Location: Outside Temple Grounds
Enemies: [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Kezeroth the Beholder"] | [member="Raien Keth"]
Allies: [member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Aela Talith"]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Agr0DZfrNnw[/media]​

She could feel it before she could hear it, the dark presence that soaked up the light like a sponge - like the inverse of the relation between light and dark, an all-consuming night encroaching upon the horizon of her mind. In an instant she felt the largest internal pain she had felt since the day her mother had subjected her to the horrors of the force's mental capabilities, and though she had once been subjected to Qazoi Kyantuska before, to put her to her knees when she'd nearly escaped from home in her early youth, there was no preparing for such a brutal blow to the mind. Immediately the pain behind her eyes was unbearable, her forehead felt like it was going to burst at the seams, and the base of the back of her head felt like a knife had been jammed up through the top of her vertebrae. For a moment she faltered, and that falter quickly became a serious hindrance.

The fighting quickly had broken out around her and within the temple, and her ability to comprehend the passage of time had slipped while her focus was averted to regaining a control of her mental faculties - the lightsabers in her hands switching off as she slumped against a pile of debris, her face reddening in frustration and contorting in pain. If it weren't for her intense determination to see this through she would have slunk away to cool this aching pain in her head, but, unfortunately, she was a hard-headed fool in this regard. Luckily, despite her slender and rather unimpressive physical stature and lack of a muscular build - maintaining perhaps a runner's form in terms of physique - Lisette made up for her athletic short-comings with raw talent in the force, which had kept her from being totally put out of commission by the Sith Lord, whomever they might be. Rather than charge forwards, as she watched those that hadn't been the singled-out target of this mental assault, Lis sat down and leaned with her back against the rubble as blaster bolts rained through the smoke-filled air.

The essence of surprise was gone, but once she'd let her head clear it wouldn't matter. What hadn't been accounted for, however, was the sudden approach of a Sith, probably an acolyte by the lack of some grandiose use of the force, using another - a boy - as a living shield. Her eyes had opened slightly as her face paled, sweat building up on her pained forehead, and with extreme effort on her part she pushed herself forwards from the pile of rubble. Sloppily she rolled forwards, head over heels, to dart away from the duo, and she swiveled, still in pain and visibly frustrated, with her amber colored lightsaber activated in her right hand. "Figures, sending the amateurs to save their own hide." She grumbled with a frown, aware that it was most certainly not this person that had struck her mentally - she would have been dead if such was the case.

 

[Raziel]

Location: Prison

Raziel watched the display of raw power from a series of monitors. His near-eidetic memory knew those faces. The Spynet had dossiers on known fringe associates, he’d even walked through some of their formal gatherings in person to observe them.

The single blaster pistol felt particularly small in his hand. Still, he was now in the control centre of the detention block holding all the Jedi prisoners underground. He was connected to the prison’s systems and he had his wits. He mind was already whirring, thinking up plans within plans. There were other dark presences here, guards and automated defences. Not to mention blast doors that could take some punishment. Hopefully he had the time to put several fall back measures into place.

The Jedi were kept underground with one route out, with each section of the prison being isolated by thick barriers and guard stations. This would of course be the ultimate goal of the two intruders in Raziel’s estimation. That meant they were headed towards him, and the only way for him to escape was to get past the pair.

“Have they got to cross E wing to reach us?” Raziel asked of a guard as he studied the maps.

“Yes?”

“Good, how much weaponry do you have down here?” he asked.

“You’re not in charge, you’re not even…” the guard started to say, but Raziel turned and looked at him. He barely even needed the subtle use of the Force to send the guard rocking on his heels. The guard pointed towards the door at the back of the small room. Raziel looked inside. There were plenty of sidearms, two stun rifles and a large number of smoke grenades.

“You gather twenty of the pistols and put them in a back. One power cell in each. You, start dissembling the external casing on three of the pistols. As the pair started to work to his orders, he returned to looking at the map. This top security facility housed many individuals an enemy state would certainly not want to free. Many of which resided in E wing. The wing itself was one long corridor, maybe fifty metres in length. There were two floors, with cells lining both walls.

“The outer door to E wing, it’s reinforced?” Raziel asked, reading the map.

“Yes, double thick quadranium around high density duracrete,” the guard replied.

“You can control it remotely?”

“Yes.”

“Good open it,” Raziel replied curtly. The guard looked shocked, but went to the console. Raziel watched on the monitor as the door slid open in under a second. Such a barrier would take nearly half a minute to cut through with a saber. Opening it made no obvious sense.

“There was a pair of class seventeen doors on the outside of the checkpoint?” Raziel asked. He referred to another layer of security halfway between them and E Wing.

“That’s not even on the map, that one is…”

“Electromagnetically shielded,” Raziel finished. “I know my security doors,” he explained. “Have one of your men start to pull out the mesh from that door, as much as you possibly can. I want it hung across the nearest end of that whole shielded corridor. Keep the other door open again. Pass me that bag, I’m heading up to E Wing.”

When dealing with Jedi who had an awful habit of burning sith to a crisp with lightening, it paid to put some protection in place before engaging directly.


Up on E Wing the sound of the approaching melee was increasing in volume. Raziel knelt at the bars of one of the cells. The houk inside sat opposite him. The mass-murderer was covered from head to toe in a mesh of scars and tattoos, but the expression on his face was serene. Raziel’s eyes were closed, concentration etched on his features. “They are bad people,” he said quietly, before opening his eyes. He left a blaster pistol on the floor outside the cell.

Raziel stood up slowly, betraying his incredible grace in that simplest of movements. E Wing would suffice as his first layer of distraction. The upper floor was comprised of two corridors that ran all the way around both sides. Anyone on the upper floor had an exceptional view of the floor below. In this way patrolling guards could watch prisoners in their cells on both floors from the opposite side of the wing. It also ensured anyone stepping out of their cell had an exceptional view of anyone walking along the corridor on the ground floor. It would have to do.

Having tired himself out, Raziel retreated back through F Wing and corridor A-3, where his second surprise was being arranged. He had no time to inspect their work, he merely noted the numerous water sprinklers along the ceiling and modified his plans.

Two layers of hasty defence. With the time and resources he had it would have to do. Such a shame not to be able to accept the challenge with the proper time to devote to planning the undoing of [member="Ashin Varanin"].

Whilst [member="The Hound"] made his next move, Raziel sat in a cell with a Jedi Padawan whose mind he had torn asunder in a fruitless effort earlier in the week. After their brief chat, he amazed the guards by tasking one of them with administering him a small beating.

If [member="Ashin Varanin"] and [member="Spencer Jacobs"] managed to overcome [member="The Hound"] , when they stepped into E Wing they would hear the crackle of the tannoy system.

 

[Bolt]

Enemies: [member="Cyril Grayson"] // [member="Ijaat Akun"]
Allies: The OS
Location: Moving towards the Control Station
Equipment: Spec Ops X-1 // Bodyglove // Swords // Ashin's Lightsaber // Zeo the Program // No-Show

Moving closer to the door of the Control Center, Zaiden was little surprised to hear speech on the other side of the entrance. Someone was inside, and it seemed, wanted control of the system! Instantly, he reached for his wrist and deactivated the No-Show, "Zeo get into the Network through your wireless connection. Make it hard for them to get through."

The moment he was done speaking, a small symbol appeared on his HUD, signaling the program was sent out. But then again, he reactivated his sensor nullifier, and stepped through the door. Ijaat, a man he hadn't seen before, was within.

Zaiden immediately set forth a wave of telekinesis, bent on knocking him from his feet. Keeping himself hidden from eyes, sensors, and all alike, he was quite the target. At this point, he needed to be sensed by the Force to be found. Thus he dropped the cloak to offer fairness.

Staring at the man, he called, "You wait until our forces are off planet before attempting a battle? In what way is this acceptable?"

 

[Placeholder 04]

Enemies: [member="Razor Shot"]
Allies: [member="Ijaat Akun"]
Objective: Do gun stuff, go after big bad dark guy
Location: Control Station

"This glowbug has a few tricks, Mister Akun." Cyril quipped as the doors were forced open. He'd provided the distraction, and Ijaat had torn down the defense. Good. Cyril liked an effective working relationship. He drew in a deep breath, calling upon the force to replenish the stamina he'd depleted in distracting the soldiers. It reinvigorated his limbs. Where they had felt as if he were lifting a hundred pounds with every small movement before, they now moved with relative ease. He might not be able to fling thunderstorms at folks, but Cyril could fight for a very, very long time.

Then he saw it, another figure moving at the entrance of the control center. This one he felt within the force -- a Sith quite likely. Cyril could deal with that. Ijaat had other concerns.

The Jedi Master's greeting to his opponent was a slab torn from one of the permacrete barrier's lifted high into the air, and hurled so fast one might have mistaken it for a speeder, right at the figure. "The Sith are self-centered children. They've done far worse, and those that won't see the error of their ways will be culled. The galaxy be rid of the plague that is your people soon enough." Cyril boomed, marching up to the temple with purpose. The words and the rock were, of course, meant as a means of distraction. With a bit of luck, he might managed to flatten the Sith before the fight even started. It wasn't the long of a shot. The guy did have his back turned to Cyril.

When he reached the stairs' apex, he tuned into Ijaat's comm. "Focus on the controls. I've got this one."

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Location: Starport
Objective: Get off world
Allies: GA
Enemies: OS

He really should have called Starchaser.

Things were getting heated -- more than that. People were being butchered in the streets for leaving their homes. An insurance policy, he was certain, and one that made relative sense from a totalitarian government's view. To Rook, it was just that: a slaughter. He and Sara had managed to arrive at his mother's apartment complex. The conversation had been a short one. A ship was waiting at the starport, and they only needed to make their way there. Stanley was waiting on standby aboard the vessel. Once his family was safe, Rook intended to reunite with the Alliance force and retake Coruscant, but not before they were out of harm's reach.

"How many men did you count?" He asked as the trio moved quietly through a back alley. His mother lofted a brow, "Four. Most of the soldiers seem to be focused on the defense." Rook nodded, "I can deal with four. The starport is on our next right. I'll have to weld through a back entrance. Sara, can you --"

"Yep! Just focus on getting us in quick."

That was all he needed. Rook kept his comms on now; listening to the feed of the starfighters fighting high above. Starchaser was busy with a station of some kind [member="Ijaat Akun"] was dealing with the turrets. Part of him felt guilty for refusing to follow either of his comrades into battle, but he felt they would have done the same if their families were at stake. His father was in a prison somewhere within the inner rim. It was Rook's responsibility to protect the family in his place. He would do so.

Another turn led them to the backside of the starport. Rook could scarcely make out a single entrance guarded by the four men his mother had spoken of. They did not look particularly pleased with their current task. Why would they? Rook would have been itching to fight the planet's invaders had he been on their side. Fortunately, he was not.

He gave Sara a look. She nodded. The duo took aim. Rook clicked his teeth twice. The two weapons fired. Two men fell, and a third was caught in the ensuing blaster fire. The fourth fell down behind the outer wall. Rook wasted no time in hurling a thermal detonator over the side -- a bit much, but he wanted off this world. The man screamed, and then found himself drowned out by the ensuing explosion.

"Move."

The trio sprinted across the open way. A moment later, and they were at the door. Rook passed his mother his rifle. "Safety's off. You see bad guys, you pull the trigger."

The elderly woman frowned, "You certainly grew up Aly."

"I had to. The Sith took Coruscant."

"We know, and we're still proud of you, regardless of all that's happened."

Rook did not offer up a response. He fumbled around for his plasma torch, took a look over his shoulder, and set the thing to the door's outer lock. The sparks were blinding, but his visor saved him the trouble of closing his eyes. Rook was a staunch believer that the most important setting for a custom visor was blast tinting, and it proved to be so time and time again.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

All Your Base Are Belong To Us.
Location: Control Room of the Defense Network
Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Cyril Grayson"], Galactic Alliance, Silver Sanctum Peeps
Enemies: One Sith... [member="Reverance"] | [member="Razor Shot"]
Equipment: Stated in post... Links in sig/bio to custom stuff.

Incredibly, Geoff was reporting that somehow a program had been inserted wireless and was already trying to erect defenses. To this, Ijaat merely smiled and began walking. There was no way the program was fast enough to assemble a suitable defense if he and Geoff came in from the main point of control. Commands were readied, subroutines and baffers. As he walked, he had Geoff scan the ID badge of the squad leader he had picked up, replicating it in security clearance and authorization would be childs play, the intelligence assured him. Since he was not yet deployed to the system, the program would not detect him as something that should not be there if he initiated such duplication, and by the time it did somehow pierce it (which was unlikely in itself), it would be far too late. Not really being sure of the specifics of what Geoff planned to do, he nodded, and began walking down the hallway.

Then the wave of telekinetic force washed out directly at him from the Sith. Ijaat smiled at that as the Force seemed to just wash around him. He wasn't fully a vong-formed subject, but the effect of such tactics on him directly, instead of manipulating the air around him or such, was minimal at best. The attack did cause him to stumble and almost lose his footing, but a quick hand to the wall stopped that. Muttering, he turned a corner and stepped into the control room, clearing it via his rifle first. There was only one intensely scared looking man there, and he began blubbering and begging as soon as Ijaat stepped in. The mandalorian supposed watching someone slaughter all your men had that effect. Keeping one eye on the man, he calmly use the micro-droid within his gun and fired a spatter of bolts, swiftly taking out the security cameras. Taking the mans badge, he had Geoff scan it instead, and then almost callously walloped him with the back of his hand. The crushgaunt had no effect on a punch or its' stregth, but the weight of the beskar and other metals alone knocked the man cold.

Walking up to the console, Ijaat laid his hands upon it. At the moment of touch, both he and Geoff began to enter the system. Geoff slipped in normally, bearing all the signatures and identifiers of the controls supervisor. Ijaat... He was less subtle. Furious attacks on the system, ill advised but one after the other as he lashed out, executing the basic attacks and ideas he and Geoff had dreamed up of. In the mean time, Geoff divided a modicum of attention to acting as if he himself were foiling some of the attacks, though the speed and skill the counter-measures executed were such that it would appear he was hard pressed.

With luck, Geoff alerted him in a few seconds that the planetary gun protocols were in his keeping. The other A.I. had two options. Attack the absolutely normal activity of the Defense Control Personnel, which it would have no reason to without piercing the replication of the identity (which Geoff had assured him when they made this plan would take some time in and of itself) and leave Ijaat to absolutely wreak havoc at random... Or go after the only discernible threat, which was Ijaat himself. And that choice would leave the Planetary Defense Guns under their control, and once that was confirmed, they would make their next moves.