Weekend Treasure Hunt Infinity: At Last We Will Have Revenge (Open to All)

[Gorba the Hutt]

Orcus and his cadre barely made it inside the temple before an unidentified armored figure came springing in after them. To add to the confusion, a set of engines could be heard roaring somewhere above the temple. Given the reports from Sergeant Canton, Ni'gel and Vire, Orcus expected there to be some sort of opposition party, or several even.

Best to dispense with them quickly.

A heavy flipper gestured toward the unknown man in armor ([member="Harmon Taldan"]).

"Kill him." Orcus ordered to nobody in particular. There were no less than three Sith, one gladiator and one mercenary in his immediate vicinity. One of them would comply.

Meanwhile, the Herglic security magnate took his time approaching what appeared to be some red graffiti scrawled across a wall. Very old, very bloody graffiti. Orcus reached out, tracing the sigils, recalling memories of simpler times spent amid piles of scrolls.

"Ah," blubbery brows creased, "Roughly, 'shall free Lord Protector me', or translated with Basic's sentence construction, 'the Lord Protector shall free me'. Hmm, wonoksh, not won."

Black eyes followed the trail of blood. "Odd. Very odd."

"Whatever made this does not believe it is free. Yet..." Orcus reached down, a ponderous task, and struggled to pick up a bit of amber colored detritus. He examined it gravely, then dusted it off his hands and stood. "A mystery." he glanced over at [member="Darth Adekos"] at grinned, "But hardly surprising in this place, hauum? Let us continue on. Kûskmidwananjat, as they say."

[member="Niysha"] | [member="Tyro Ventari"] | [member="Graze"] | [member="Grundark"]

 

[Jsc]

Shamu n' PewPew

Which, yeah. Surprisingly was not that type of band.

"Oh poo. Kriff me."

Karen sighed heavily as she peered through her viewfinders. Some type of underwater aberration had entered the temple ahead of her smuggler friend, Taldan. Complete with shadowy cronies in tow. Busy day. Busy day. Good grief,

"Well. That's just peachy. Now I'm outnumbered at least six to one. Wonderful odds Karen. Simply wonderful."

She looked down at the DL-44 on her belt and shook her head. Should have kept the bikini on at this rate. Touching her com, she called R2 back at the ship.

"Hello R2. ...Oh no. Everything's fine. Yep. That's good too. Yep. So hey? Would you mind unlocking the storage bay for me when I arrive. Yeah. Momma's gonna need her grenade belt for this one. The big one."

She smiled as the droid replied on her wrist. After all and as the old saying goes: If you can't beat em'... Explode them. ...Erm. Actually, not that I think about that a bit. That's probably a Siobhan Kerrigan quote. Hmm.

Anyway. The plot thickens. Dum dum dum!

...

 

[Grundark]

Grundark stopped on a dime at the command turning towards the new entry into the temple, packed to the teeth with weapons the match was going to be extremely lopsided in nature. Raising his trunk he blew a powerful note before charging towards the unknown opponent, his only weapon a hammer given to him by Master Orcus. His armor was extremely thick skin, and over a thousand pounds of flesh and muscle. He had no doubt he'd take a few hits before he reached his opponent, but once he did it was an entirely different game. With the man's lack of a melee weapon, and utter size disadvantage in the building the Cragmoloid hoped to either crush him against a wall or impale him with a tusk, either worked.

His rage pulled at the Force the way a babe grabs at things, it didn't really know what it was doing or wanted to do, but it eventually found something to grab onto. Pulling it into him he really didn't do a single useful thing with it, he wasn't even really aware of exactly how that all worked, but still it was there. Hammer at the ready he sprinted across the floor towards his opponent shoulder and head down in attempt to lessen the damages of whatever incoming fire was headed his way. His body was heavily scared though from years of gladiatorial shows, pain was something expected and welcomed. It made him feel alive.

[member="Hion the Herglic"]
@Harmon Talden

 

[Harmon Taldan]

[member="Grundark"]

Harm saw the massive cetacean turn and point at him. The sheer depth of his voice made reverberated around the chamber they were in.

"Kill him."

At that point, Harm started moving backwards, hands moving to the maser scattergun on his back, expertly readying it in the blink of an eye and aiming it towards the pod of large creatures with dark auras. He had only ten shots with the weapon, but the distance was short enough that the scatter of the maser shots should still be compact enough to inflict massive damage on anyone coming for him, while gathering the force about him. These were darkly aligned people with varying degrees of strength in their auras, Harm knew he'd need to utilize his knowledge of the force eventually in the coming conflict.

Then he saw the pachyderm of the pod turn and heft a massive hammer before starting a lumbering charge. It was an easy matter of shifting aim from the general area of the group to this one massive creature. Harm paused in his retreat, setting up a good firing posture out of long years of training and combat, then fired the first shot. His HUD said it was at the extreme of the effective range, 15 meters, so Harm didn't expect to off the massive creature with the one shot. Harm took two steps back as he primed the weapon again, took the firing position and fired again, now at the range of 12 meters.

Falling on his soldiers instinct, if the creature were still coming directly at him after the two shots, Harm would continue this pattern. Take two steps back while priming, then firing at the 9 and 6 meter ranges. After the fourth shot, Harm would not retreat anymore, giving up a possible sixth shot at what would be point blank range to get the fifth shot off steadily, then shoot himself forward at the knees of the massive creature using every ounce of physical power in his force enhanced body. He would roll to hit the knees of the pachyderm with his back, hoping to trip the massive creature and come up behind him. He knew that such a move would likely reduce the impact gel lining the back of his armor to inert, but he knew that in a straight up melee he would come up short. (Had to throw a height joke in there)

 

[Grundark]

The first hit came with two sensations the first and most obvious was pain. The smell of burning skin matched with cut into skin left him bloodied, but it did little to stop the charging behemoth. The second was utter the realization that his opponent had chosen a scatter gun and not a piercing weapon. With over a thousand pounds of flesh and bones he was simply too thick for a shatter gun, though it certainly hurt like all Sith. The realization of pain had barely been established and handled when the second shot pumped into his body his skin ripping open further leaving red lines over his massive frame. Pulling on the Force though he used the pain to his advantage fueling his rage that without the ability to use externally he just pushed into his body further strengthening his resolve.

The final two shots more effective as the area of impact was getting smaller, the final ripping into his massive arm and shoulder as the blood began to be more then simple lines and drippings. Now they were on his field though as he watched the man move towards his leg, much to the joy of the Cragmoloid. Lowering his head just a bit his tusks were both level with the incoming back of his opponent, he didn't bother taking a swing his opponent was already moving directly towards his tusks and trampling feet at full force. Even as the blood splattered on the floor behind him as he finished his charge he felt joy, how he loved the feel of combat.

[member="Harmon Taldan"]

 

[Harmon Taldan]

The fact that his opponent kept coming despite flesh being both kinetically damaged and thermally damaged was frankly astounding to Harm. He made note that he should research whatever race this creature was to make sure his future armament took account of such perseverance through severe damage. These thoughts did not come through to the front of his consciousness, which was solely considering the combat he currently engaged in. His opponent was obviously a melee oriented fighter, so Harm's best option would be to keep it at range if possible.

He'd gotten off five shots into the behemoth, so he had five left in his scattergun. The only question was how to get those shots off and make them count. That question, however, was not a present concern as Harm threw himself towards the mammoth creatures knees. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the creatures head lower, bringing the tusks into play. He knew, then, that his trip wasn't going to happen. He needed to remove the tusks from the present equation.

Harm removed his left hand from the scattergun and thrust out with the force towards the ground, giving himself more altitude and imparting spin to himself as well. He still impacted the behemoths face, but likely did little damage, where as the impact gel on his right side and right back were likely useless to him now. His arc took him over and past the bowed behemoth and behind him. Harm landed in a shoulder roll, came up and fired one shot at the back of the creatures knee, trying to hinder his movement even more than his size did.

[member="Grundark"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Harmon Taldan"] | [member="Hion the Herglic"] | [member="Niysha"] | [member="Tyro Ventari"] | [member="Graze"] | [member="Grundark"]

"Kill what you wish, take what you can."

Darth Adekos nodded as he followed the Herglic and the others into the ruin. "Words to live by. Truly." He would have to remember to inscribe that onto something. Or even print it onto T-shirts and sell them off the holonet. It would certainly draw a lot of money from the edgier sort of crowds, probably teenage humans and near-humans going through an unnecessarily edgy, anti-establishment phase. The interior of the temple was just as decrepit and ruined as the outside had suggested. So far, Adekos saw no one or nothing of value. Some red scrawling on the walls did catch his eye soon enough, which he recognized as an old Sith language.

"Well, that's pecul- What?" Before he could make a pass at translating it, some ignoramus in armor bumbled into the ruin. Orcus wasted no time in dispatching the gladiator to deal with him. The Grundark lumbered forward and proceeded into battle with the armored man. Beneath his helmet Adekos quirked an eyebrow. "That looks like it'll be handled." As long as the armored man was alone, no immediate threat was posed. The scrawling was more important... Presumably. The Umbaran listened closely to Orcus' translation, which mentioned the Lord Protector.

He cleared his throats. "The Lord Protector? You mean the one that tried to assault our agents on Zeltros or one of his ignominious successors?"

More gunshots sounded behind Adekos as the gladiator and the interloper engaged one another. Orcus said something, urging them onward into the ruin, but Adekos only half heard him. "Hold that thought, please." He said, scowling as he turned to face Harmon. The man's back was to him as he fired five more times into the Grundark. Perhaps if that hadn't been a scatter gun it would have worked. Adekos outstretched a single hand and drew the Force up around him. Adekos could sense every power cell, every electronic that Harmon was carrying. He could also manipulate the energy they contained with the same ease as other Force Users would levitate small blocks.

So that was what he did.

Any additional ammunition Harmon was carrying, power cells mostly, would begin to overheat as Adekos agitated the energy with them. Including the one still in his gun. Within a few moments they would heat up to uncomfortable and then in another few seconds they would explode rather catastrophically.

 

[Harmon Taldan]

[member="Grundark"] [member="Darth Adekos"]

As Harm landed behind the massive meleer, he dropped to his knee to get the aforementioned shot off (small bit of recap, not an extra attack). What he didn't notice is what would do him the most harm, however. As he got the sixth shot off from his scattergun, the readout began to show high heat signs. Unsure of what was happening, he tossed the gun aside and drew his blaster revolvers, leveling them at his enemy. The cells on these revolvers were near to glowing, and before he could pull the trigger, light and fire engulfed him.

Darkness came.

The fire scorched the already dingy armor, lamellar plates of cortosis littered the ground for meters around him, with scattered bits of shark scale mixed among them. It would have truly been the end for Harm, had it not been for what remained of the impact gel. The thermal damage scorched the armor black all over except portions of the face plate, the concussive force reduced the remaining impact gel inert, absorbing most of the blast. The armor over his right side and right back, however, had been damaged just moments earlier. The reactive agent in the impact gel absorbed only a miniscule amount of the force from the machine pistol ammo that was stored near there, the rest tore small holes in the armor there, rending flesh below it.

Bleeding and unconscious for the moment, Harmon Taldan collapsed on the field.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Jorus Merrill"] @Lady Shambleau [member="Hion the Herglic"]

Location: In the Temple

Given that the temple had people in it and was abandoned long ago from what he could see Jack had reservations using unorthodox means to enter her. That means was explosives, which detonated in a shaped charge down through the stones crumbling the peak of the roof inwards. Stone and rubble thundered and dust rose in tiny wisps, fogging the air.

"Again."

"You sure?"

"Yes Dak, now do it!"

They threw another explosive down, and then another and another. Chain reactions were shredding floors at an alarming rate, until Jack peered down through the acrid smoke and dust plumes that rose from the peak as if it were ablaze with a furious vengeance.

"Clear, detach harnesses and.."

And he dropped, swinging from a nearby vine all the way through the shattered stone floors. His feet hit the old stone floor with a thump and he crouched to alleviate the pressure of the blow as the vine slipped from his hands. And then he found the oddest thing in the world.

He was face to face with what appeared to be an enormous whale in heavy armor plating. Jack grunted, feeling the sickly aura of the darkside radiating through the room. this one made his hairs stand on end. One hand went to his Beskad's hilt and the other out to his side to balance himself.

Rage began to bubble to the fore, as his own force aura fed off the sickly presence, amplifying the darkness surrounding them.

"Greetings traveller..."

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Eyes black as the ocean's depths rolled toward the commotion, following [member="Darth Adekos"]' scowl. [member="Grundark"] faced off against a human opponent, who - from the way he moved with grace and speed - seemed to have a touch of the Force inside. Still, a mismatch if ever there was one. Orcus might have left Grundark to prove his worth, but he would not stop the Umbaran Sith Lord from dispatching the interloper.

No sooner did Orcus look toward the ensuing combat, then the roof overhead rumbled and collapsed, large chunks of debris smashing to the floor. The Herglic took a step back, unhooking the hilt of his great saber from his belt just as two humanoids descended through the gaping hole the roof, a cloud of dust billowing, and landed in before of him. A steady ray of light filtered through the new skylight.

One of them spoke to him. The impudence.

"I confess, I am not overfond of your renovations."

And then he opened his maw wide and unleashed a Force Bellow in their faces.

While other Sith Lords knew a host of spells and techniques, the cetacean could only boast of one true ability with which he had any degree of finesse. Given his species' natural affinity for the manipulation of sound frequencies and the enormous lung capacity, Orcus found he was quite adept at Force Bellow.

Most enemies he encountered typically operated under the assumption that a bellow was much like being yelled at. Rather noisy and discomforting, but a simple set of earplugs and the Herglic would be deftly thwarted. Right? Wrong.

A bomb's true killing power did not come from the shrapnel, but the blast wave of overpressure capable of ripping limbs apart. In the same way, Orcus' Force Bellow was a multi-faceted attack. Yes, the sheer sound could rupture eardrums and leave one permanently deaf, but the true art lay in the sheer amount of excessive power put behind the bellow.

With a great "HAUUUUUUUM!" the shockwave tore from his maw, stronger than the blast of a concussion grenade and just as effective at making hollow organs go pop. Even if it didn't leave them on the floor, clutching at burst eardrums, exploded sinus cavities, or ruptured gastrointestinal tracts the sheer power was enough to send them flying backward like rag dolls.

Personally, Orcus was a fan of whatever did the job. Woe betide any who would stand between the whale and that promised wealth.

[member="Jack Raxis"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Lady Shambleau"] [member="Hion the Herglic"]

Location: In the Temple: Whale Tales, Episode 2, The Curse of the Blowhole

Hearken a scream! But it was ordinary scream. Jack felt it in every vein of his body, barely registering what was occurring before his body went flying backwards and smashed spread eagle against the wall. He impacted with a crack and crunch, pulverizing the stone to dust. His back plate nearly shattered, chips and pieces falling free from the massive impact. His teeth rattle like a small earthquake and the helmet systems shut down, fizzling out under the pressure.

Then his eardrums popped, he coughed, spraying blood across the inside of his visor.

Dak was nowhere to be found.....

"Kark..." It came out as a wheeze.

Having been badly beaten by the Mikan didn't help his situation, but Jack was a warrior, not prone to give up. Years of battling in the rim, smuggling and other things had given him a staunch endurance and legendary tolerance to pain.

"Kark......"

And then he was up, stumbling to his feet with an unsteady stance. For a moment he grabbed his midriff, and doubled over, and then he snapped back upwards, a fire in his eyes.

The force sustained him, drawing into his limbs and seeping into every cell in his body. The pain was intense, giving focus and power to him. Rage bubbled from his core and he reached out seizing the currents of the force, weaving the dark energies into a ball of focus at his core.

"My turn..."

This time it came out darker, as if his voice had dropped several octaves. The Whale was a screamer, but Jack was a Telekenitc animal. Both hands reached out and back, focus projecting around the stones on the floor. Massive chunks of debris began to lift, and swirl in a cyclone around him. His focus intensified, a spinning wheel going round and round.

The massive stone blocks circled faster and faster, and then released, travelling towards the Whale with blinding speed. Jack was stepping off, drawing his Beskad as the chunks sailed. His mind was already gathering up the smaller debris, ready to bring it into the fight.

"Come and get some Raxis, freak!"

Steel rang on steel as the Beskad withdrew from the sheath, pointing straight out. His left foot shifted forwards, right to the rear and his body turned. His elbow was locked and his gaze burned like a thousand blazes behind the helmet....

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Wide, fat lips split over conical teeth in a hungry grin. He smelled blood and wanted more. So too, it appeared, did this mewling calf. The Herglic rolled his shoulders, a shock boxer wading into the fight. With a whoosh, the great saber came to life. The enormous length of crimson cast a red leer across his features.

The Dark Ocean rose within him, a tidal wave of power ready to sweep away anything before it. A heady nectar, fit for kings and emperors. He could feel his foe drinking from the same cup and his blood curdled with rage.

"Fool, you think to best me?" A bass deep as the ocean that thrummed in the air.

The enemy had regained his footing and now raised both hands. Slabs of rubble lifted into the air and began to revolve in an orbit, slowly at first, but growing faster with each rotation.

Black eyes flared wide, glinting with jealousy. Telekinesis. A power every Force user should possess. A power Orcus lacked. Noseless features of onyx and alabaster twisted in a skein of hate.

"You forget where you stand, whelp."

The Herglic cast out his seine and drew in the awesome might of the Valley. Raw, unadulterated power flooded into his body, rushed through rippling thews. Sinews trembled at the sheer amount of energy begging for release.
Orcus moved forward, eyes full of blackening fury.

The stones shot toward him, hurled with the strength of the Force. The great saber whipped up once, twice, contemptuously burning through the great blocks and sending their halved tumbling past. They spewed flaking embers that sprinkled Orcus' head and shoulders, searing blubber where they touched. One of the rocks slammed into his armored left shoulder, jerking it back. The Sith Lord clacked his teeth, feeding on the pain.

[member="Jack Raxis"]' beskad barely cleared its scabbard before Orcus was upon him. The Herglic's lumbering movements belied an uncanny speed. Nigh double the length of a normal lightsaber, Orcus' blade gave him a tremendous reach. He held it in his right flipper, with the off-hand waiting, ready to strike or grab.

The great saber came crashing down toward Raxis in a single-handed blow aimed to cleave through his left shoulder and shear him down through the clavicle. A dolorous strike, empowered by the Valley. The human might be resilient, but the Way of the Krayt Dragon would break such men.

Even should Raxis get his guard up in time, the sheer strength of the blow, directed by the eight hundred and fifty pound cetacean, had been known to break wrists or simply crash through parries.

[member="Tyro Ventari"] | [member="Niysha"] | [member="Graze"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Darth Orcus"]

Location: The Temple
Objective: Survive the Curse of the Blowhole

Jacks primary form was Makashi. Albeit he was a mixed bag of tricks, employing Teras Kasi, Makashi, shock-boxing and an arsenal of dirty spacers tricks. He was rather lucky to have one of those tricks up his sleeve right now, in the form of a laser dissipating aerosol grenade. They were useful little things the separatists had used in the ancient clone wars.

the Ordo twins, being ever the explosives lovers had stuffed some on his belt when they departed from Mandalore. Jack was all too happy he had one. The issue at hand was the rather impressive saber coming down on him from above. Jack knew the strike was powerful, he felt the very air part with enormous pressure as the blade hummed in.

With rapid reflexes he danced left, skipping with perfect footwork to avoid the blade. But he was tad slow, having sustained the injuries of earlier. He clenched his jaw making not a sound as the red hot blade singed his arm, nicking the flesh and causing waves of roiling pain to lance through him.

The debris in his grasp rocketed from the floor into the whales visor, dust and rock pelting towards where his face was. Jack struck then, stepping forwards from the left and growling. The blade already held point outwards retracted, delivered a thrust towards the Whales back leg, where the plates had a gap.

With speed unheard of the Beskad Retracted, and stuck again, delivering another thrust into a gap on the whales side, as Jacks left hand dropped the grenade on the floor. Foggy mist burst to life, filling the room with a whooshing sound. Anything laser like was about to have a hard time operating in here...

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Orcus did not wear a helmet and thus found the sudden spray of debris in his face rather alarming. He lifted his off-hand to shield his eyes, while his great saber looped out, attempting to ward away the inevitable blow. Unfortunately for the cetacean, he swung too high and missed decapitating the piratical padawan by a solid foot.

Raxis faced his own set of problems. As previously mentioned, the length of the great-saber when combined with the Herglic's enormous wingspan made for a rather impressive reach. Side-stepping left and then forward got Raxis within lunging range, but the strike at the back leg would seem to be a grave overextension.

The Sith Lord shifted the stance of his back foot slightly, turning the knee inward. The beskad's tip nicked the outside of the leg, cutting through the fabric and leaving a shallow cut, rather than plunging into the gap in the armor.

Empowered by the might of the Valley and possessing decades of experience in combat, Orcus knew a few of the tricks in the book. Especially the ones on the first page. The weightless great saber came down in a backhanded swing from left to right, smashing into the thrusting beskad with a brutal parry meant to destroy the joints in an overextended arm.

Of course, that still left the grenade, which pinged to the ground ominously. Even as the mist began to burst from the sphere, Orcus drew in breath. He assumed it was some sort of lethal nerve gas, or more likely a cloud of ixetal cilona. The cetacean had a preferred method of dealing with such nuisances.

"HAUUUUUUUUUUUM!"

The second Force Bellow tore from his maw at point-blank range, every bit as powerful as the first. The mist dispersed, carried by the shockwave along with the grenade, which flew down the corridor as if hurled by a hurricane.

[member="Jack Raxis"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Darth Orcus"]

Jack felt the blade crash into the Beskad and cursed at his luck. Rather than let his arm be brutally shattered by the force of the blow he instinctively let go, letting the weapon fly and hit the wall. Now he was clad with just bare fists, which was fine by him, much more effective that way. Especially with what he was about to do.

Except the force roar that accompanied said beskad flying away became a real issue. Very quick.
Jack felt his feet leave the floor and screamed in rage as his body once more hit the stones of the wall. Again there was a crunch, and this time his eardrums shattered, rendering him with nothing but a dull high pitched whine in place of hearing. More blood pulsated from his nostrils and mouth as his organs were sloshed around. He was barely together, only living on rage and fumes...

The whale seemed to have two weaknesses. The unarmored head, and his sole reliance on his shout and saber. Jack had a plan to put both of those to work, but first he had to wear down the opponent. A heavy foe could be taken by a lighter force, albeit slowly and over time. Time was something Jack had plenty of.

As the Beskad clanked he flicked his hands upwards, focusing all his might into the floor. Stone began to crack and crumple, an ominous sound echoing off the walls. The left hand shot up and the roof stone began to crack and crumble. Jack intensified his focus, placing all his will and the powerful currents that surrounded them into the attack.

With a force of brutal proportions the floor cracked apart, looses stones shooting upwards towards the whale from underneath him. The one he was standing on were coming loose as well, struggling to pelt upwards, to cause breakage in his bone and rend his flesh.

The ceiling came down as well, large chunks falling free, augmented by whistling small stones, hurtling as if they were heavy rounds shot from an archaic canon. There was dust, grit and heavy rock assaulting the whale. Jack was backing up, pouring more and more force into the attack, exerting himself greatly.

Step by step he backpedaled to the hall, brining one hand free and then splitting focus. The attack raged on, and the Beskad quivered, sturggling to rise from the floor.

"C'mon, Kark it!"

Rage.

Infinite Rage!

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

The sight of his foe hurtling backward, once more flung aside by the power of his voice gave Orcus cause to smile. A leering, wicked thing, full of teeth and devoid of compassion.

Orcus stalked forward as the human struggled to rise. No hint of mercy in those black eyes, heady with the exhilaration of the fight. Reveling in his own might. The flipper curled, tightening around the hilt.

He took another step and the flagstone beneath him cracked suddenly, chunks of stone flew up, pelting his legs. Several shards cut into his inner thighs, needling deep. Orcus clacked his teeth. Blood trickled down, trapped inside the legging. Orcus' footing became unsteady, so he charged moving faster than Raxis could rip up the flagstones.

Above, the ceiling rumbled. Blocks of stone fell, crashing down all around the Sith Lord. One caught him on the back of the head and opened up a crimson gash that bled profusely. Others cracked against the armored pauldrons over his shoulders, but they barely slowed him down as he careened toward [member="Jack Raxis"].

The lengthy crimson blade swung out in a one-handed grip from right to left, aiming to cleave the human in two at the waist. Sai tok. A barbaric blow.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Darth Orcus"]

Jacks eyes widened in his helmet, watching through a crimson smeared visor as the saber arced wide to make another power swing. evade, resist and wear him down. Not getting cut in half was key to Jacks plans. As the saber came whistling and buzzing with fury Jack let out a roar of his own. Leg muscle coiled, tensed and then unleashed, propelled by the thrumming force vibrating in every cell of his being.

The pain gave him focus and in that split second all his focus came to bear on the beskad, dropping the stones. The attack ceased, but had given him an opening. Jack s sword returned to his hand, smacking into his palm and he sailed upwards, snapping out both feet in mid air. Twin armored boots raced towards the Whale face, and then his quads and calves locked around the Whales blubbery head.

"Die you blubbery filth!"

Whether the attack was successful was beside the point. Jack had a death lock around the Herglics neck, legs clenching with incredible strength in an effort to choke the air from him, if such a thing was even possible. The beskad whirled in his right hand, making two quick circles, and his arm raised high before the stoke fell like a pendulum, with a viscous force behind it, towards the Herglics unprotected head...

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Or did he?

Orcus' off-hand rose as the foe leaped high into the air. Coming down boots first? Big mistake. The open flipper reached, aiming to curl around one of those oh-so-fragile human ankles before the man could land. No doubt the man would whip the beskad at the flipper, trying to hack it away. Even had he good leverage, Orcus' blubber was thick, and his forearm armored.

Should all go as planned, eight hundred and fifty pounds of Dark Side imbued blubber would whip around two hundred pounds of human by the leg and smash him against the floor with a bone-shattering impact.

[member="Jack Raxis"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Darth Orcus"]

Or did he?

All was going to the Whale Delight. Having been torn from his head Jack was hanging upside down and about to be- scratch that, hit the floor hard with a crunch, shattering a rib or two. His armor was holding up, but how much longer would his actual body hold up? There were a few options but not much. The saber, the floor, the air, face in the floor. The whale was flinging him around and he was roaring, a death grip on his Beskad. As he sailed high over the whales head, Jacks left hand reached for the fighting knife on his back and he slammed it down, aiming a shot with deadly force at the whales unprotected dome piece.

The floor, his face on the floor.

The air.

And this time he aimed a solid kick in the whales face.

Pain was roaring now, mixed with blood, grit and pure adrenaline. Jacks body screamed for it to stop, but his mind was resolute. He would not be broken. The dark currents were growing stronger with every passing second he was flying around, manifesting in black and purple tendrils about him with a dull sheen.

Jack let go, plunging into then dark currents. His body fortified, his breathing slowed. Time seemed much slower now, every piece fitting clearly into place as the room whirled by. In slow mo he whipped his hand out, telepathically wrenching on the Greatsaber, aiming to rip it down onto the Whales flipper, the one that had a hold of him. He ripped hard with the force, pressing with all his might towards the blade, trying to send it right above the gauntlett and sever the flipper at the joint....

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Displeasure soured Orcus' revelry. The human still squirmed after the first impact, flopping about like a fish not yet stunned. Not unconscious. Not dazed. So, Orcus whipped him back for another blow.

Sudden, lancing agony erupted from the top of the Herglic's head, just behind the blowholes. Pain ripped through him, setting nerves alight. The dagger jutted out of his dome through layers of blubber, but it had failed to pierce the skull. It only sat there, tip scratching bone. Excruciating.

A terrible trill left that maw, followed by a flood of pure fury. The whites of his eyes turned an angry red. A Dark Rage consumed Orcus, a whirlwind unleashed. Vision tunneled in a bloody haze. He drank in his own suffering, threw it upon the fires of his wrath for kindling.

A desperate, booted heel smacked into Orcus' noseless face, but found no purchase, no cartilage to crush and snap. The impudence of it only infuriated the cetacean to greater heights.

The hilt of the great saber wriggled as Raxis attempted to wrench if free of Orcus' grasp. The Sith Lord simply laughed, a sick, gurgling chuckle that seemed to cause the very air to thrum. He laughed as he tightened his grasp on the great saber. Laughed as he whipped the human bodily toward the wall, seeking to crack him into it headfirst. Laughed as he released his hold on the ankle. Laughed as he reached back and tore the dagger from his dome.

And then the laughter ceased.

An intake of air. Vast lungs swelling.
That maw opening wide.

"HAUUUUUUUUUUM!"

An obliterating bellow.

Again.

"HAUUUUUUUM!"

Again.

"HAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM!"

He would shout this fool into oblivion.

[member="Jack Raxis"]