We'll paint it red to fit right in (ACA Dominion of Zenith Prime)

Jairus Starvald · Apr 30, 2015

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Raziel"]

[10/20]

***

Anti-life rushed past the scenery, whatever it touched it turned into gray matter, dust and specks of ashes that reminded the world of what it was before. Grass, mud, water, humanoid life or even synthetic durasteel. Whatever stood between the gate and its target died, briefly Carach wondered where all the life went. Yes, it was unmade… but how far was it unmade? Only the corporeal? Or was there something else to it, what happened to the essence? The soul which resides in anything of life? Did it get destroyed too? Unmade and impossible to move on to a higher plane?

Or was the spell not that strong, it was a question worth looking into and so as the Gate speeded into the wall and its occupants, the Sith Lord looked. Time froze for him, or it would be more accurate to say that it slowed down to a screeching halt and then continued its trajectory. In those little micros of seconds Carach tried to really see what happened with anything that touched the gate, he saw how the gate passed the distance with practiced ease.

Fast in its approach few if anything could jump away from the menace, even fewer really tried to accomplish such a thing. They had been too busy looking at the approaching droid horde to really take notice of a field that was literally zoning into them by the second. Because that was something that needed to be said immediately here and now, the field wasn’t anything impressive.

It was a gray mass that some people would have missed in that one blink, it was a strong point of the weapon and perhaps a weak point too. Because it meant that while your enemies wouldn’t be seeing the field before it was too late… but the same could be said about your allies.

Raziel · Apr 30, 2015

A final group of the chittering reptoids blocked his path. Covered in mud, bruised, battered and bleeding, Raziel looked up at the beast. His vision swam, probably from several blows to the head, but it seemed a petty complaint next to the task before him. The enormous beast loomed before him, filling his view. He idly wondered if such a creature could even perceive a threat as small as him. Was it even aware of his presence?

The Chazrach charged, but Raziel had no more time for these obstaces. Six splinter knives came free of his bracer, each floating in the air, glistening with toxins. With a single thought the tiny blades shot out, each catching a target in the midriff. Raziel started to sprint.

One of the dying creatures tried desperately to reach out and claw at him. Bizarre little things that followed the will of their herders to the end. Perhaps, through them, the Rakamat was aware of what he was doing. Raziel didn’t slow, but his saber blade snapped out, cutting the hand off at the elbow before it could slow him. He needed to build some speed.

Finally free of the chazrach he accelerated ahead, building the Force around him once more. With one mighty endeavour that stretched the last of his reserves, he launched himself into the air, slamming into the side of the beast and grabbing hold of an armor plate.

[15/20]

Jairus Starvald · Apr 30, 2015

[member="Marek Starchaser"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Sasha Santhe"] | [member="Raziel"]

[11/20]

***

‘BOOM’

That would have been the sound of the deathfield breaking into the walls of the research facility and taking with it a score of defenders, that would have been the sound if the deathfield’s touch made any sound besides the vibrating hum that came before, during and after its absorbent of life. No, the field made no sound as it passed through the duracrete of the walls, passed the flesh of the defenders and finally dissipated into the air.

It had been a display of power that would have awed anyone looking, sadly… few if anyone had been looking besides the enemy forces which were too occupied trying to retreat back into the facility and abandoning the walls. Because the droids had seen the breach in the wall and were already rushing to take advantage of it, some were picked off by the few brave defenders that had decided to stay behind.

But they were quickly dealt with once the droids were flooding the courtyard in full, but what about the Sith Lord one might ask? The man who had turned life into ash by the simple incantation of words and the push of the palm? Well, he was still reeling of the experience. To a degree he was used to expenditure of the Force, it was his specialization to be able to dish out damage without using lightsabers or anything else.

Magicks was a different game though, a game played in a different spectrum and so he would need more training before he could play his a-game on it. In the meanwhile he had been analyzing the touch of death executed by the field and what he had seen had been amazing.

The intricate energies flowing, it would have astonished the scientists in his employ.

Vrag · Apr 30, 2015

And there he was, going at her again like a maniac with nothing to lose. In some sense, she would say it was true; after all, he was surrounded by enemy forces, Vong and human alike, and his warriors were tired compared to the ever freshly rested waves attacking them. Vong would never give up, that was the one and certain truth; never, unless she felled their Commander. There was nothing they respected more than a show of strength and hierarchy, and this would sure as hell show them both.

With her teeth bared in a joyful smile, the Hand of the Dark Lord met his assault with glee, parrying the first downward strike of the amphistaff and pushing him off to the side. He was moving more slowly now, visibly affected by the wounds she'd already dealt him. A stab at his exposed kidney — if they had them, of course. Damn, she would have to brush up on her Vong anatomy! — and a strike to his lower spine with a punch that could go clean through duracrete walls… he was reasonably affected, and it was showing.

The red blade in her hand gave an ominous glow to an already intimidating skull, and Vrag wondered if the Commander truly knew no fear. His steps were faltering, and though the lightsaber was known to seal wounds through cauterization, it would not help with the pain at all. Adding the vigorous movement of active combat to the mix would only mean that the thin layer of charred flesh between the man and his Maker was about to break. All she needed to do, really, was make him stretch the injury in the wrong way, and the Commander would be done for.

Her lips were pulled taut in a cool, merciless leer, and she readied herself to do exactly that as the Vong came in the narrow measure again.

Sage Bane · Apr 30, 2015

Newly-minted Sith Knight, Sage Bane, illusionist and pupil of sorceress Matsu Xiangu, was sent to Zenith Prime to be an extra finger of sorts, the pinky of the Hand of the Dark Lord as she fought rogue forces of Yuuzhan Vong. Sage had just been fitted with a new arm, courtesy of the Vong shapers in a Selvaris Gla, a prosthetic amphistaff with a banelith masquer, one that was currently shattering his psyche. Until he learned to control his new limb, it controlled him, and the venomous tentacles that undulated out from his left side made him a very dangerous weapon to unleash on enemies.

It took him a while to join her at her side, as his arm would not settle into its masquer. He had to psychically force it into submission with threats of withholding food or worse, the violent removal of it, just like during the siege on Ashera.

For now, his arm was tamed, and on the surface it looked like an ordinary pale near-human arm. The lightsaber hilt on his belt snapped into his hand as Vrag lay waste to their enemies. As she assaulted the Commander, the Sith Knight would attack the leader's faithful underlings. Sage followed in her murderous wake, lunging with his saber in acrobatic flurries, performing near-perfect maneuvers of the Way of the Hawkbat. With precision, he thrust his red blade right through the torso of Vong soldier, pulling it out with a sizzle and whiff of burned flesh. The cries of the amphistaff heads lying beneath his masquer, rattled in his head. Death created a joyous excitement in the leathery black tentacles hiding beneath his pale flesh. He knew that with enough kills, and the arm would come out to play, but for now Sage practiced control, if only to show his limb that he was the Master and it was the Servant.

Jairus Starvald · Apr 30, 2015

[12/20]

In the general sense of the word it was very hard to describe what happened once a field of death hit its intended target, simply because few if any people had really bothered to study the effects and words- or rather descriptionaries, did not exist to properly describe the following occurrences. But if one really tried, then one would find that the soul, that particular fragment of existence that kept a man going even after his physical body was long since dead, was still very much existing after being hit by anti-life.

It seemed that either his spells simply weren’t strong enough yet, which was a very real possibility, considering he wasn’t really doing this for a very long time, or either it was simply much harder to break apart a soul and needed something more than a simple field of death. Either or, the experiment was rather a success, especially considering his droidical army had now completely invaded the courtyards of the facility and was now busy taking control over the situation.

The situation was as followed, the walls were now all secured and were already being fortified for future usage. The gates were being thrown open, for the rest of the droids to enter in the different directions. Of course, they were only halfway done here and now, they still needed to take control over the actual facility itself.

Carach walked over the clean-scraped underground of the ground and entered the courtyard himself, he saw firsthand the slaughter his droids had wrecked on the remainder of the people who had made their stand here.

How cute.

He was slowly starting to feel the effects of the continued Force usage, but he could probably dish out some more damage. At least for a few more posts that were necessary to take control over the planet.

Gotta be efficient.

Vrag · Apr 30, 2015

She let him get close this time, personal and knife-combat range, far too close than what she would usually feel comfortable with, but she had a plan. His body, as tall and as strong as hers perhaps, came incredibly close to crashing into her, full speed and all, but she twisted sideways at the last second, dragging her back foot through the blood-tarnished soil of the canyon as she pivoted on the spot to let him pass. If this were another Galaxy — or maybe another dimension, who knows how these things work — the casual observer might have thought back to bullfighting in the arenas all over Spain. It wasn't however, so no such thoughts sprung to mind as she let the charging enemy sprint by for a fraction of a second longer.

Then her gauntleted hand shot out, full power and no holds barred, and her hips and her shoulder and her elbow all moved in perfect unison to deliver that one devastating blow that the Commander would never recover from. It was like watching all the pieces fall together to make that one aligned picture, and then her armored knuckles met the side of his head, making a wet, crunching sound as the skull gave out beneath the immense amount of pressure. Black blood and brain matter spilled out around the cracked impression of her fist, and they lingered in that final pose just for a moment longer, his bewildered dark eyes fluttering to gaze at the dead red stare of her skull. A morbid artist would have surely enjoyed the juxtaposition of the two fighters, and with some work and artistic license, they would make for an excellent sculpture in some Force-forsaken gallery.

And then the moment passed, and her opponent crumbled to the ground, twitching in agony as life seeped out of him in a black torrent. She swiftly completed her turn and brought her lightsaber around to end his throes of death in a way he deserved. A powerful strike from the prime saw his severed head rolling across the besmirched sand, a clean cut through muscle and veins and vertebrae.

The skull looked up then, its dead eyes scouring the lull of battle. As one, the enemy had stopped fighting when the Commander fell to her blade.

"Pryozz," she growled, the tongue of the Yuuzhan Vong scratching at her throat. "Tiu-tu!"

You are mine.

Sage Bane · Apr 30, 2015

The Vong soldiers increased the ferocity of their attacks, almost as if the forces could sense that the death of their Commander was imminent. Now closely behind Vrag, Sage suddenly found himself set upon by three footsoliders at once. Calling upon the Force to help speed his attacks, he rained down furious blows on the enemy, a blur of red plasma whirling through the air. Each one of his attacks flowed smoothly into one another, and here and there an arm or hand was lopped off, or a knee was hobbled. As one of the Vong soldiers swept his sword in an arc towards the Sith Knight, he somersaulted to the side and arose behind his foe.

Using the power of the Force to fill his muscles with a preternatural strength, Sage grasped the creature's arm and bent it upwards. A sickening crunch of cracking bones could be heard, and soon he thrust his red blade into the disabled soldier's midsection. Sage hitched a breath, drinking in the pain that emanated off of the soldier as his body slumped to the ground. His amphistaffs roiled underneath masquer, threatening to erupt from the ring that bound them together, and he let out a feral growl in response. His mind gave the arm a command. You will not move a single inch, until I allow it.

Once his attackers were disposed of, he lifted his head in time to see Vrag decapitating the Commander. A few words of foreign tongue flowed from her lips, and the Vong soldiers stopped their attacks. They froze, like statues, blinking their beady eyes at their fallen leader.

Raziel · Apr 30, 2015

It would have been good for Raziel to know the Yuuzhan Vong commander had just been killed in personal combat. For a start, it would have brought an end to his insane attack on a gigantic, near-invincible beast war. It would also have left a perfectly good gigantic, near-invincible beast war in one piece and ready to be used in the Abrion war machine.

Instead, beset on all sides by Chazrach, he carried on. Several of the creatures clambered across the beast’s chitinous hide toward him. Making firm his grip, Raziel freed his right hand and yanked free his splinter pistol – a fletchette launcher that coated its ammunition in toxins. He fired with abandon into the reptoids, until the last of them had either died, or fallen from the Rakamat.

Raziel scampered up the last few metres, until the creature’s back sloped off until he could run on two feet again. He sprinted down the length of shifting terrain, firing on any creatures that tried to attack him.

Finding a chink in the beast’s armour, Raziel brought both sabers down, slowly gouging a divot into the beast. He laid out his charges, glad to be free of the weight. He looked to the charge, watched the seconds start to tick. He looked down at the ground, seeing the tell-tale signs of signularities being deployed, and streams of magma coated rock streaming towards the ACA lines.

“Feth.”

He sprinted and didn’t stop until he had launched himself free of the creatures. The wind howled as it rushed through gaps in his advanced Obsidian armour. He almost laughed when he reached the ground, softening his landing with the Force.

Behind him, the charges went off. A great plume of sparks erupted from the back of the Rakamat. The baradium core burned a hole through to its flesh, and then the slow burning materials ignited, reaching thousands of degrees in moments. Raziel imagined that it would not be the most pleasant death for the beast, if it even registered such a thing any more. The burning would slowly eat through its flesh until it came out the bottom. Right on cue, sparks started to emerge from the Rakamat’s belly. It shuddered, and ever so slowly, toppled to the ground.

Raziel was thrown from his feet by the impact, slowly getting back up and dusting himself down.

“All forces broadcast. Their commander has been defeated in single combat. They have stopped fighting.”

Raziel allowed his face to land in his palms theatrically. Well, at least he’d checked something insane off his “to-do” list for the year.

[18/20]

Sage Bane · Apr 30, 2015

As a few beads of sweat condensed on his forehead, Sage stood closeby the Hand of the Dark Lord, his saber held in a defensive position, awaiting orders from his Mistress. The war between body and mind, in his pale slender frame was coming to a stalemate, and soon Sage realized the tides were turning. His Ataru form had taken so much physical and mental energy that none was left to keep his limb subdued. As the head of the Vong commander lay entrenched in the dirt, Sage began to hear a deafening wail in his mind, and he fell to his knees.

His lightsaber dropped to the ground with a clatter, the red blade dissipating. Sage's traitorous arm broke free from its masquer, as leaves of pale flesh peeled away. Long, leathery black tentacles snapped and undulated, their hungry mouths hissing. Sage's other hand began to make hand motions as he attempted to coax the serpentine forms back into submission, but the neediness of those mouths made them too defiant to obey.

The slithery ebony tentacles branched out towards the closest living sapient, looking for a body to tear apart. Unfortunately for the Sith Knight, the closest living sapient was the Hand of the Dark Lord herself. The heads of Sage's arm struck out like a trio of whips, violently lashing against Vrag's Voduun crab armor.

Jairus Starvald · Apr 30, 2015

[13/20]

***

It was a heavy reinforced gate which held the forces of evulz back, very heavily reinforced and yet this presented an opportunity more so than anything else. Of course his droid army held units comprised of the more big models that Hegemonic Automaton was manufacturing, so it would have been easy enough to simply order them to blow out the durasteel doors, and then simply press on with the rest of the armies. But let’s be honest here.

Where would be the fun in that?

Carach had used up quite a lot of energy with his display in power, blasts of dark energy evaporating men, women, droids and defense installations. But he probably could have done one or two more blasts before the Sith Lord would start really feeling the effects of the Darkside on his body, there was another way though. A much simpler way, a way which would be simple, subtle and probably would have made Rave proud of her old friend.

See, the Sith Lord hadn’t only raid the storage houses of the Library-Temple on Krayiss Two. No the man had always been a busy body, sticking his nose in things that should maybe have been left buried forever. One of those things had been found on a nondescript, ancient island in the middle of a Muunilinst ocean.

It had all ended in a treasure trove of Sith knowledge, above and foremost in the ways of Sith Alchemy and that was exactly what Carach used right now.

And so that was what the Sith Lord utilized as he ordered his troops to give him some space, he focused, cleared his mind from anything that wasn’t important right now and clenched the amulet that hanged around his neck.

Then he looked at the gate and a whole new world opened itself for him.

Vrag · Apr 30, 2015

Her blade had hissed out of existence with the death of the Commander, the red stare lingering upon the dead eyes of the man she'd just slain. It had been a thrilling, invigorating battle for the Hand of the Dark Lord, but ultimately the opposition had fallen before the pressure of her assault. The rest of the rogue Vong had surrendered to the rule of the strong, the few dissidents summarily executed by the fearless Yun'Do. It had been a good day, truly, and not only had she cemented the fledgling alliance between the One Sith and the ACA, but also gained new soldiers for the war effort. The rogues would, of course, need to be re-educated in the disciplined ways of the Hrosha-Gul, but even droplet upon droplet eventually made for an ocean, and Vrag was a patient woman.

Something in her vicinity was far less patient, however, and it came as no surprise that it was a Vongspawn. Too bad it was a Vongspawn that had decided to attack her, of all people. Heh. Silly Vong.

The Vonduun protecting her left arm coiled and hissed and keened as the amphistaves struck out, their fangs scratching vainly against the hard shell of the crab. Their legs would reach out in an attempt to lash at the assailants, as angry and aggressive as all Vong tend to be. In truth, however, the Skerr Kyrric was the least of the Knight's problems in that moment, for the red eyes of the skull turned to find him, the owner of the offending appendage.

With a snap, the lightsaber in her hand came back to life, crimson as the blood that the woman would soon let from his pale flesh. "And what exactly do you think you're doing?" her voice was cold and metallic as it filtered through the rebreather covering her mouth, but the threat was still conveyed clear as day. The blade in her grasp hummed with a low, ominous sound as the woman brought it up into third guard, ready to counter any other botched attempts at assassination.

Corey's OOC · Apr 30, 2015

This was getting out of hand. He had [member="Sasha Santhe"] safe, but he needed to get her more than that. He knew that she was going to be taking care of everything on the verbal side of things. People listened to a pretty lady more than they would listen to him. Still, he had some work to get on. The trick now was getting away from the battle, and keeping it away. Sending a message to [member="Vrag"] and [member="Darth Carach"], he knew there were other Sith coming into the area, he could feel them, but he didn't know [member="Sage Bane"] that well. Just... He was there and the dark side was comforting Marek, as perverse as that was. He shook his head.

"SIth, its Starchaser. Abrion would like to welcome you to Zenith Prime. Good to see y'all here. We can use the help. Remind me to buy y'all a drink and get to talking about something a bit more useful after we claim this world. I've got Miss Santhe here and we're making a run for the research facilities. Any chance of an escort?" He could use hte heavy hitters, especially because his skill with a lightsaber were lacking.

And with Sasha being afraid to use the Force, or some such, he wasn't sure how they'd go.

But the Sith were here, that meant he needed to set up an official meeting with them. if they were going to be labeled Sith-funders, then god damnit, they were going to make it fething official.

13 of 20 for the post god.

Jairus Starvald · Apr 30, 2015

[14/20]

***

The amulet in question was something of a rarity, in the arcane history of the Sith there were a couple of tools a magician might have that would work in his favor while working with the abstract forms of energy that hung around any practitioner. Objects that were as standard as a Sith Amulet that could grant you focus, or an increase in raw power usage, or even as extreme as a Talisman of Concentration which helped with both those but exponentially.

It was a derivate of this Concentration Talisman which Carach currently held within his hands and that allowed him to push his boundaries just a little bit more for what he was about to do, his inner eye opened and he entered the matrix of the reinforced durasteel doors. It was alchemy at its most basest, that which Rave had taught Ovmar to do with the glossy balls and which he had explained as mentalizing the atoms. Carach was trying to move away from such limited thoughts and instead saw the matrix framework for what it was.

A coherent network of nodes which worked together to become something bigger than it was itself, but every node, every network held some kind of weakness. The door itself might be strong, strong enough to resist almost any and all attacks given to it, but there would be some kind of weakness inside of it.

Maybe a bolt that wasn’t strong enough, maybe some parts of durasteel that were old and corrupted, maybe even a weakened framework which he could pull out and let the entire door collapse in itself. All possibilities and so the Sith Lord started looking for these weaknesses.

It would probably take a while.

Sage Bane · Apr 30, 2015

"And what exactly do you think you're doing?" came the withering voice of the Hand. The Hand that was about to curl its Voduun crab armored fingers around him and crush his vital organs if he didn't get his fething arm under control. His amphistaff was completely riled from its thwarted attack, hissing, spitting, even swinging back around to try and attack its own Master. Wracked with pain from the amphistaff's rebellion, Sage rose from his knees. His face grimaced as he began to concentrate on subduing his arm, his fingers slowly moving into shapes, just as Reverance had taught him. But the tentacles refused to obey. The Vong-formed monstrosity craved another taste of the being who had so viciously rebuked it. To punish the creature that would denying it a taste of her flesh.

The glowing red eyes flaming beneath the Sith Lord's skull helm sought out the fear in his gaze and pierced right through. Reluctant to admit his failings, her question remained unanswered. Sage was trained under Matsu Xiangu, and her tolerance for weakness was nonexistent. His eyes searched hers, his brow wrinkled, nose scrunched in a snarl. He was frozen just like the Vong soldiers scattered around the battlefield. Frozen, but for the writhing mass of tentacles that gleefully ignored their Master. They whipped out once again, this time ferociously shooting upwards, spitting their blinding venom in a spray as they aimed for the Hand's grinning skull.

Simone · Apr 30, 2015

Camp Verd

Simone was once again, questioning her choice of jobs. This was all Khal's fault, he'd roped her into the damn Exchange and here she was, breaking into a Training Camp. Tucked out of site of the camp and out of their patrol lines, the zeltron began her operation with a simple trick. Remote access should have been a challenge, but with eyes drawn elsewhere. A research facility being infiltrated. Fabulous, just what Simone needed.

Slicing into the camps defense systems, she disabled their camera's and shutdown automated defenses, lacing their reboot system with enough traps that she had half an hour to get in and get out. Did she volunteer for this? Maybe. She's was pretty certain she'd consumed a lot of alcohol and it was a dare and who was she to refuse?

"Damn you Khal."

She moved quickly, using a beam cutter to get through the fencing she made for the back door. With defenses disabled, it swung open without any trouble. Getting to the schematics though? That was another problem entirely.

Vrag · Apr 30, 2015

She would watch his face wring and stretch as he vied for control with his rogue limb, the usually smooth and rather attractive features — features she'd seen before, but Force damn it if she remembered where — wrought into a rictus of pain. She couldn't really imagine what sort of agony it wrecked upon a person when their own appendage rebelled against them, but she was quite sure it had to be up there somewhere with having your lungs pierced by proxy. A shiver ran down her spine when she thought back to the moment when she'd first donned the armor she'd come to love and cherish. The Vonduun coiled harder around her armorweave bodysuit as it watched, ready for whatever attack the presumptuous Knight launched next.

Where the feth did she know him from? There was an inkling, a faint light in the back of her mind, a small voice even — we don't want to make her seem too mad, though — telling her that she knew that face. She had seen it standing beside another, beside a certain petite Sith Lady that made her both hot and cold inside. He was the apprentice she had first glimpsed on the blood-steeped fields of Ashera, a planet that had crumbled to One Sith rule not long ago. It was also that same apprentice that had severed his own arm… and now things made sense. If she weren't wearing a rather dangerous helmet, the woman would have slapped her forehead at the moment of stupidity, but this was neither the time nor the place for such self-deprecation.

"Your mistress will hear of this," she growled as the realization clicked, but it was the last thing to leave her lips before her instincts had her bring up her hand in defense of the lunging amphistaves, their venom splashing against the Skerr Kyrric of her forearm and shoulder. A spray was a spray, however, and some of it hit the side of her helmet, trickling down the crab armor and sizzling vainly against the shell. Had she been wearing something inferior, the woman might have had reason for worry, but as it stood, the Hand of the Dark Lord was only growing more annoyed.

She closed the gap between them with a rapid ballestra, utilizing her skill in Makashi to suddenly come to stand right at his side, and with Force-augmented speed her empty hand shot out to grab the offending trio. She wrapped her fingers around the first, then the second, and finally the woman held all three in her grasp, sliding her palm up to their necks to prevent them from flexing around and coming to bite her somewhere where it would actually hurt.

If only [member="Matsu Xiangu"] had taught her pet some manners.

Jairus Starvald · Apr 30, 2015

[15/20]

***

And that taking a while wasn’t some kind of joke, it wasn’t a practical jest that wasn’t meant seriously, there was a distinct difference between most forms of sorcery and most forms of alchemy. Saying ‘most forms’, simply because there was always some kind of overlap between the two arts. Might have to do with the fact that they both began with the word ‘Sith’ and that already tied them up to a certain degree. Anyway, while Sith Magic mostly had to do with big explosions, boom, bam, kaboom and a lot of death and pain? Sith Alchemy was more so a science than anything else, it too had some direct-threat appliances.

But in general one could say that Alchemy was an art that had to be practised carefully and with a lot of patience. For example Carach had already been able to map out two distinct weak points within the framework of the door, and yet he kept going. He didn’t need to, not really, he could have stopped right there and then, just pull out the weakness and watch as the entire thing collapsed.

There just was something so enticing about doing this, it looked… beautiful. All those atoms arranged into a distinct pattern for maximum efficiency and strength, there wasn’t anything like it in the world. Besides, it ain’t like he didn’t need the practice and this would exactly give him that, practice to go on and study on how to accomplish this sort of work better, faster and… maybe stronger?

In general this was what Carach lived for, to gain more knowledge and become more knowledgeable about things. Power in itself was cool and all, but ya know what they really say.

Knowledge was power.

Simone · Apr 30, 2015

Camp Verd
[2/20]

Two guards round the corner, pausing as they settle their gaze on Simone. She flashed the a grin and let the beam cutter fly. It slammed into the first throat while the other raised his blaster. Forcing her to take cover in a doorway. She was a terrible shot with a blaster, could throw a knife with ease and take down a man almost twice her size in close quarters. Maybe it was her lack of love for guns that made her so poor with them. She didn't want to be good with them.

she slid into a crouch, pulling a knife from her boot as the soldier approached. His left foot stepped into her line of vision and she drove the blade through boot, flesh and sole, pinning it and rising with a snap, smacking the blaster aside as he howled in pain and seizing his head, cracking it against the wall to silence him. He dropped, the weight of him unhinging the blade which she took back, wiping clean on his shirt before slipping it into her boot again. Taking off once more, she snatched the beam cutter on her way past the guard and half her time.

Security would respond to that soon enough. She checked the map on her wrist. She was close.

"Halt!"

So fething close.

Corey's OOC · Apr 30, 2015

There were times where Marek Starchaser missed [member="Isley Verd"]. Hell, Zenith Prime was part of his vision. That and the creation of the Dread Guard, and he was damned if he was going to let this world stay away from the Abrion Authority. It was too fething important for the war effort, and the research effort. Shaking his head, he needed to get moving. And he was a bit cut off from [member="Sasha Santhe"] now, he was backing up, and doing waht he could to help even the odds in this area. And that was when the BDH moment happened. As Vong closed in on him and Sasha, a repeater started sounding and made short work of the Vong in front of him, an arm falling here, a leg there and one being split in half. Looking over his shoulder, he could have swore.

Alana Flag, his assistant and sometimes lover was helping rescue him and one of the women he was courting. Now that was awkward. But she had a platoon of Clankers with her. "Sir? Y'all right?" The blonde Forcer said, grinning as she activated her blue saber and swatted a razor bug out of the way. "Get to the facility. We'll pull Sasha out of this."

Did that mean... would Alana know about... oh feth this was NOT going to end well. But it was a deus ex machina moment if Marek had ever seen one. Getting to his feet, he through another boulder at the direction the Vong were coming from, and reached out to the Force. It was time to get to work. "Don't let her die, and get her to follow me when you clear the breach."

And with that, he left Sasha in the more than capable hands of Alana as he made his way back to the facility. Contacting his comrade in the field, he needed an update before getting inside. The facility, Camp Tal'Verda, a research facility, wasn't far from his sight. "[member="Raziel"], its Starchaser, how are we doing? Sith backup arrive for you as well? Heading to the facility now. We'll get this turned over to us in no time." Marek was fuming, he was just going to go lightning through the facility and wipe out anyone who wasn't going to turn back over to Abrion on a simple request.

Feth these guys, really. Needed the world making its products so he could continue to profit. And defend his home.

We'll paint it red to fit right in (ACA Dominion of Zenith Prime)

Eidoloclast

Dark Jedi Spymaster

Eidoloclast

The Second Seal, broken.

Gazing into the abyss

Eidoloclast

The Second Seal, broken.

Gazing into the abyss

Dark Jedi Spymaster

Gazing into the abyss

Eidoloclast

The Second Seal, broken.

And where were the spiders

Eidoloclast

Gazing into the abyss

Simone

Guest

The Second Seal, broken.

Eidoloclast

Simone

Guest

And where were the spiders

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