Will to Power (Sith)

[Marcus Faust]

Kark. She had stronger lightning. Karkkarkkark. As purple blades of pure electric dark force energy surged through Faust's body and armor, he back pedaled in pain. He was to exhausted to redirect, he had to think of something. He would not die here you've suffered far to much to let this be your end Marcus he thought to himself, thinking of hs personal tragedy and his torture at the hands of Shinju. His eyes went from their normal corrupted yellow, to a blood red color under his T-visor. Forcing up his arms he activated the shotos on the underside of his forearm, their crimson blades catching the remaining lightning as Faust was forced to a knee.

As rage and anger flowed through him, he arose from the knee slowly but surely, then in a single movement, he deactivated one shoto and snatched his shocksaber from his belt and activating it. The ice blue blade absorbed the lightning at a much better level, stopping the flow of pain into Marcus, who deactivated the other shoto and placed both hands on the hilt of his saber and began moving towards @[member="Kiara Alanna Decoix"] slowly but surely, rage fueling every step he took, keeping him conscious and in the fight.

 

[Onrai]

Circe was almost done looking up artifact locations. It was so close...

Meanwhile, her avatar watched what was going on in the throne room. It was entertaining to say the least.

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

Krag watched as the lightning fast Sith Master dodged his flames, doing a swift dance before retaliating with a ball of force lightning. Krag may have been proud and reluctant to admit weakness to anybody, but he was no fool. The one he was fighting was a Sith Master and though he was a High Knight, her attacks would be enough to decimate him. Krag had to think quickly or else the chaotic ball of lightning would punch through him like a bullet through paper. The Graug knight called back the ash he had used to attack the red haired Sith, commanding it to form a wall in the path of the lighting. The ash reacted instantly, whipping across the ground like snake before jumping in the path of the attack and hardening.


While the ash shield was not strong enough to deflect or block the energy, it allowed Krag the extra second of time he needed to move out of its path. A sharp crack of thunder echoed throughout the throne room as the lighting stuck the ash wall and flashed. Krag side stepped, pivoting on his left foot and moving the right side of his body so that his left side was facing the Twi'lek and his right side was facing away. His body was pelted with the burning embers as the energy of the lighting caused the wall to explode. The embers didn't harm Krag in the slightest, but the ball of lighting was another story. As the orb of energy passed by Krag's chest, a flicker of lighting struck his ultrachrome armor and sent a bone shaking jolt of electricity into his body. Even with his current physical situation, Krag was still vulnerable to attacks such as force lighting.


Krag shook slightly until the electricity subsided and the ball of lighting had passed by to strike whatever lay beyond. That was lucky, if the ball would have hit him he may have never gotten back up. The beast turned back to his opponent, only to find that she was already closing in on him. @[member="Anaya Fen"] 's description of Krag as a 'tank' were not at all unfounded. The beast was large, slow but very powerful and that certain combination of traits meant that he could not keep up with the Twi'lek's attacks if he did not get the upper hand quickly. Taking this into consideration, Krag quickly closed the distance between him and his opponent, thundering forward with his deactivated lightsaber in hand. As he got within 2 feet, Krag brought his unarmed left hand up across the air in front of the Twi'lek's face. As his hand passed in front of her, he expelled a whisp of fire at her as a distraction technique. The short finger of fire would be aimed to scorch her eyes andd distract her as Krag brought his lightsaber up in a diagonal motion towards her chest. The Graug's motion and power were only enhanced as he used the force to allow his already powerful muscles to exert more energy. Krag made sure not to activate the lightsaber until the last few inches of the strike, so that it there was no blade of light to follow and makie the attack easier to defend against.

 

[Kiara Alanna Decoix]

Kiara watched as her lightning smashed into @[member="Marcus Faust"] with satisfying flash of light. She however did not spend much time utilizing the art as she watched the man began to block her lightning. As he walked toward her; her eyes were closed as she opened herself up to her sorcery. Her body contorted for a second; shaking slightly as well as her presence became cold adding a visible chill to the air. It was time she crushed this ant, why she even let him get this far she would never know. A dark ethereal mist began to form around her, it seemed to almost congeal into an actual presence for a second before withering away. Reforming itself in began to lengthen itself and thicken. She exhaled a breath as she watched Marcus grow ever closer and she opened her eyes revealing the pure demonic rage that engulfed her as the mist billowed something akin to smoke. Forming three serpentine tentacles they hissed more so for dramatic effect, as she looked at Marcus before speaking.

"Your lucky you know. No one has ever seen me utilize this technique to this extent." She smiled in stark contrast of their current situation before whatever seemingly demonic presence possessing her took back over. She crouched low almost as if she was going to pounce, her Sith Amulet glowing intensely bright in her chest as it reacted to her tapping into her Sith Magic.

The three serpentine burst forward rapidly closing the now small distance between the two opponents. Two of them would come from opposing sides while the last one hung back waiting for the man to attempt to dodge before striking at them. Kiara meanwhile kept herself within the currents of the dark side, channeling her passions into strength and controlling her current output so she would at least know when or if she was nearing her limits. But as of now she was just getting started; ever the optimistic her mind already wondered who she would be fighting next in this room.

 

[Darth Vazela]

@[member="Dranok Lussk"] @[member="Kaine Zambrano"] @[member="Mikhail Shorn"] @[member="Tyrin Ardik"]

Darth Vazela's yellow eyes were locked on the scene ahead, whilst his perception in the Force allowed him to maintain a sense of what was going on around him. As he edged closer to the newer Sith Master, ready to slay him where he stood, he stopped his movement as Kaine Zambrano rounded to deal with Dranok Lussk himself. Obviously, his Sith Lord counterpart had the same idea. Stop that pesky Battle Meditation, defeat Lussk and turn his attention to Mikhail. That changed Vazela's strategy completely. Now he had time to prepare.

He stopped moving towards Dranok and moved to the center of the Throne Room. He clipped his Lightsaber to his belt and lowered himself into a sitting, crossed legged position. Folding his arms over his lap, he formed a strange shape with his fingers. His facial features changed, like a great deep sense of concentration or great knowledge had come across it. His eyes closed as he tapped into the reservoir that was the dark side and felt the build up take form within his mind and around his body.

The pieces of stone and rubble that had fallen nearest to him had begun to rise up slowly, inside the field of Force energy that Darth Vazela was building. In this state, he had the ultimate defense. Should one of Shorn's rebels or an ambitious Sith on his side seek to slay him, then they would find their attack non effective. His concentration upon the Force was so, that Vazela would tap into the build up energy he was building to stop the effect where it came, absorbing if the attack was Force energy and merely stopping the Lightsaber or other weapon in mid air, for a moment, before it was blown away from him.

And whilst he sat, he did not launch another attack. He would not lift his Lightsaber, nor move his body. Such was the immense concentration and stillness necessary to continue perceiving in the Force, so as to utilize the energies around to defend himself, whilst at the same time, preparing a true devastating attack. When the energy built up to it's peak, he would unleash the Sith Magic and whoever was on the receiving end of it, would be in trouble.

Incantations murmured under the Sith Lord's breath as he continued his build up...

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Seeing no electrified @[member="Tyrin Ardik"], Mikhail changed tactics as Dranok's last burst of Battle Meditation filled him to brimming with Dark Side energy. The only place for Tyrin to hide in the room was directly behind the throne. Rather than simply moving around it, Mikhail took a more direct approach. The splayed fingers of his outstretched hand curled into a fist as he exerted his telekinetic will upon the throne.

KRAKA-DOOM

The sound of the Obsidian Throne shattering rent the air. Chunks sprayed across the room, slivers of obsidian cutting up Mikhail's face even at his distance. Blood dripped from gashes on Shorn's cheeks and forehead, but he smiled with a lackadaisical expression.

"I always wanted to do that," he remarked casually.

An invisible Emperor and a broken throne, Mikhail thought. Tyrin's reign in a nutshell.

His hand reopened and he gestured forward. The shards from the shattered throne lifted into the air, their deadly points gleaming darkly in the light. Shorn did not enjoy games of hide-and-go seek. He just didn't have the patience. Gesturing forward, a cloud of very sharp, very painful looking shards zipped through the room, with angry little hums, aimed at the general area where the throne used to be.

 

[Darth Vazela]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

The dark side of the Force was palpable in the crossed leg, sat Sith Lord that was building it. Darth Vazela continued murmuring incantations to himself as the dark side swelled around and inside of him, like a caged, angry beast ready to be unleashed upon it's prey. Such was the feeling he had felt upon the death of his Sith Master five decades ago. Upon that day, he had been inaugurated with Sith Mastery and he had heard the cheers and applause of a future Empire, commemorating the fall of Darth Ayra and his subsequent rise to power. He had wondered then if the same feeling had happened to her when she had murdered Mendacium. A life time ago, now.

He felt a disturbance in the Force before it happened. His perception within the mystical energy allowed him to perceive that Mikhail Shorn was about to do. The energy around him lifted and manifested itself to protect it's master, as the shards flew in all directions from the immense crushing motion of the Sith Masters attack. Before they impacted Darth Vazela, the field around him stopped them in mid air, inches from his body. Vazela could literally feel the ends of their jagged, sharped edges pressing against the plain, black t-shirt and the combat trousers he wore.

As he continued murmuring incantations, the shards flew away from him. He aimed them in a Force Guide for Mikhail and as they flew back towards the rebellious Sith Master, Vazela returned to building up the energy he had subsequently spent defending himself and launching a counter attack on his enemy.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Kaine whirled his saber around, shifting into then age-old aggressive form of Djem So. "She's not here to save you this time, Dranok." Snarled Kaine as his anger and fury rose with each step towards his foe, his emotions fueling his power. His eyes turned from green to sulfuric yellow, his skin became paler and his veins more apparent. His features turned from handsome to ugly in a second, and Kaine unleashed his fury and strength upon the Admiral. Using the force to fuel his speed he unleashed a salvo of slashes and jabs at Dranok's body and saber. Crimson slammed against crimson, sparks flying in all directions from the impact of the blades. Djem So focused on the offensive, keeping the offensive and countering an opponent's attack with ferocious counter-attack to keep him on the defensive.

Kaine kept his lightsaber in his right hand, the metal fingers of his gauntlet curling around the ornate curved hilt. The hilt in itself was also an advantage to his combat style, while normally curved-hilts were confined to the Makashi style of dueling, a Djem So user could use the abnormal grip needed to hold the saber to tweak the blade's trajectory off by just a few degrees. Such alterations could allow the wielder to snake past an opponent's defense due to a miscalculation by the defender and bypass him, although Kaine had also noticed the design of Dranok's saber. It was longer than normal, which meant that he either had a long-handle lightsaber, or a saber staff. He suspected the latter, and thus why he began to aim for the longer hilt of the saber staff, hoping to destroy his opponent's weapon before he destroyed him.

@[member="Dranok Lussk"]

 

[Marcus Faust]

Marcus had to move, fast, or this fight was going to be very short. "Lucky me." He remarked sarcastically as he bolted past the pure dark side energy serpent-things that went for his either side. The one that was now in front of him would receive a blade charged with its creator, @[member="Kiara Alanna Decoix"]'s energy cutting through it as Faust closes the gap. Dropping to his knees Faust slid past Kiara, but not before he'd flipped the saber into a reverse grip and attempted to run Kiara through with the ice blue blade, down which her own dark energies danced.

 

[Kiara Alanna Decoix]

Kiara smiled as he managed to side step her first two tentacles of Dark Sided Tendrils, she almost instantly started reforming them to connect behind him. With another exhale she began to draw them in to her as they closed in on @[member="Marcus Faust"] first because the almost corporeal mist was behind him. The only way she would be able to pull this off was by not fearing death. Which for a Sith is supposed to be a given, but you'll be surprised how many 'Sith' are scared to die. What's even better is the fact that by the way Marcus reacted she can tell he didn't even know what her tendrils did.

"Fool!"

She watch passionately as he attempted to run her through with his saber, this was definitely going to burn but the man seemed to make it easier on her. She was crouched down therefore for him to run her through with his saber he would be forced to crouch down as well. To be in range to actually cut her, he would have to crouch down into the mists of the Dark Tendrils. As he neared his striking point, Kiara would have to trust her armor and force shield on doing the trick, as she called all of the mists to finish surrounding Marcus and to wrap him up in it's ethereal embrace. She braced herself for the pain, and allowed herself a momentary brace before Marcus would either strike or if he was smart stop and avoid the mist that would surely get him long before he'd be able to cut through Kiara completely.

It was a risky gamble on Kiara and Marcus' part but Kiara knew pain, she knew true pain and compared to that this would be mild discomfort.

 

[Marcus Faust]

Marcus realized the error of his ways in the nick of time, and also figured a solution out. Leaping to the side away from the mist he threw his saber into @[member="Kiara Alanna Decoix"], she would not escape pain so easily. Like most Sith, death was an enemy to Marcus, one that stood in the way of his path to power, and his overall plans for the universe. But it was not an enemy he feared, he would not bow to it, not even now when he was staring it in the eyes, no he would fight.

Using the force and calling his saber back to his hand, he assumed a soresu stance, preparing himself for the coming onslaught. "Are you going to keep attacking me with force snakes or are we actually going to duel?" He questioned bluntly, and though she could not see his face, his eyes begged for her to strike at him.

 

[Kiara Alanna Decoix]

Having formed a circle of mists, when @[member="Marcus Faust"] jumped side ways he would have to jump through the mists of her tendrils. The mists is the literal manifestation of the wrath of the dark side, and would be able to quickly eat through armor into his skin. And as he cleared the mists, she immediately brought her saber down on his saber as it fell into her mists that would proceed to devour the saber as well. Oh, this fool would learn his place and he will learn it today from Kiara the Dark Mistress. As she exhaled for a final time she withdrew her mists not any that would be possibly effecting Marcus but the rest of her influence was absorbed back within her body.

"Why so eager to die. Are you sure your ready to die so quickly?"

Kiara ignited both of her sabers once more before sending her force strength into her legs. Launching herself forward she quickly closed the gap between the two, she would slash toward neck to draw his block up. Then utilizing the force to attempt to exert her will over his saber to pull it farther up to make the block miss but also to attempt to hold it there. Because even if he overpowered it in enough time to block the first strike, surely he would not be fast enough to block the slash coming from low towards the top of his leg and it connecting would probably end up at his neck.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

A mental note flickered at the back of Anaya's mind, a reminder that she learn the art of tutaminis for situations such as this. The move gave Krag exactly what he wanted, a distraction. She twisted aside so the flames passed in front of her face, the brightness momentarily blinding her. An all to familiar sensation she conquered with force sight, an instinctive reaction that allowed her to see past smoke and mirrors. to depict between inorganic and organic substances.

She saw the unlit cylinder in @Krags hand, she predicted its path, a touch to late perhaps. She moved backwards, leaving the saber to burn through her clothes, leaving a nasty burn across her chest but at least not a fatality. Speed and size were on her side, and she needed to keep them so. There was no hesitation in her retaliation. The left lightsaber moved up to lock with his, keeping it out of her way as her right across him, aiming to sever him in half.

 

[Caulder Dune]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

Tyrin had been quite pleased with the throne's ability to hold under the duress of Mikhail's power. That was, up until it was destroyed by a telekinetic blast of such strength that a snoring leviathan several billion lightyears away was probably awakened by it. Fortunately, the brunt of that attack hadn't hit Tyrin directly. If it had, the Umbaran probably would have been liquefied. Tyrin was instead pelted against the wall with frightening force, sharp pieces of obsidian from the throne slicing through the outer layers of his attire, but not into the armorweave beneath it. Smacking the wall like he did, the cloak wavered for a moment, but he knew the consequences if he dropped his only advantage against the would-be-usurper. He fought through the pain; ignored it, even. He had to get out of this alive, had to beat the ever-living Dark Side out of Shorn...

...And most importantly, he had to continue guiding this Empire back to its rightful place as the Galaxy's sole superpower.

Get up. Get up get up get up get up get up.

Tyrin got up, rising uneasily to his feet. Everything hurt. Again.

Move. Move move move move move move.

Tyrin moved, sprinting silently into the shadows and skirting the edges of the throne room as a blizzard of razor sharp obsidian chunks pummeled the area he had previously been in. His training at the Umbaran Sith Academy had not dulled. There were a lot of things on Tyrin's mind by this point, namely how he was going to fix the throne when he was done here or what to do of the other rogue Sith stinking up his citadel, but more pressing was the dilemma of how he was going to display Shorn's corpse to the general public to warn of the consequences of a premature coup.

Well, first he would need a corpse to display.

Tyrin rocketed from the shadows, flying in from behind Shorn left like a Hawkbat out of Corellian hell. The cloak didn't dissipate until the last possible moment, when Tyrin swung his crimson blade in a downward diagonal- an opening shiim across the back of his opponent. He didn't want this over too quickly.

 

[Olom Grihk]

Olom glared with annoyance. That was a great throne. And now, shards of obsidian everywhere. Didn't anyone ever consider the janitorial droids on this planet. He sighed, catching the two shards that were flying toward him, and slinging them to block the shards flying towards Shinju. After all, no sense in a bystander getting stabbed because the imperial aspirant couldn't predict more than three trajectories at a time. How did other species survive, being so unable to analyze data?

He looked at the lot of them. "Idiots," he mumbled coldly as he focused again, summoning his thought activated-repulsorlift stand towards himself. Time to work his own plan, since everyone seemed content on ignoring the seemingly weak apprentice. He stepped onto the lift, sighing. He checked the gear he left on the lift.

 

[Marcus Faust]

"Because I'll die with a damn purpose." He hissed, pulling his other saber from his thigh and igniting it, catching her first strike at his head and activating his one of shotos and catching her other saber. The mist had eaten through some of his armor and flesh, and a chunk of his helmet and visor was gone, unveiling his left eye. Though it was surrounded by scared skin the blood red pupil birding into @[member="Kiara Alanna Decoix"] as he resisted her onslaught, pushing against her sabers, and bring his knee into her gut with a force enhanced speed.

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

The sound of cracking stone was followed by glass like explosion that rained shards down upon Krag and the rest of the battlefield. Most of the sharp blades of obsidian were deflected harmlessly off of Krag's armor, but a few manages to lacerate his ashy skin and cause him to leak a thick, blood-like ooze. Regardless of the pain, Krag continued to focus on the Sith Master before him. His attack had worked like a charm and he had scored a hit across her chest, a small victory but it would be only one in the battle to take her life.

Krag moved to recover from his attack, but he was too slow to stop his opponent from countering. The Graug brought his saber up to deflect one of hers, resulting in a magnificent clash of black on red. A bone chilling hissed ensued as Krag used all of his strength to push her blade away and to the ground. As he did this, however, the Twi'lek's second blade cut across his side and severed through the fabric connecting his front armor plate to the back. The Ultrachrome was just enough to keep him from being severed in half and he was able to stumble bakcwards as the saber made contact. He was not without injury though and he roared in pain as the blade glanced off his armor, severing the connecting fabric and slashing through his side.

The burn was deep and the wound dripped black ooze down Krag's armor. So, he could still be wounded by a lightsaber in his form it appeared, he couldn't imagine the pain was any different either. Krag recovered from his stumble as quickly as he could and countered @[member="Anaya Fen"] 's attack by throwing his head forward and expelling a cloud of scorching flames from his mouth, like a dragon. After his attack with the fire had concluded, Krag charged forward once again with his blade held high in the air above him. When he had gotten back into range, he dropped his saber like an axe down upon Anaya, aiming to bisect her vertically.


"Ignorant swine! I shall tear the flesh from your bones!"

 

[Darth Vazela]

| @[member="Marcus Faust"] | @[member="Circe Savan"] | @[member="Krag"] | @[member="Kiara Alanna Decoix"] | @[member="Dranok Lussk"] | @[member="Kaine Zambrano"] | @[member="Mikhail Shorn"] | @[member="Tyrin Ardik"] | @[member="Anaya Fen"] | @[member="Olom Grihk"] |

Rubble from the floor continued to rise within the field of Force energy that was building around Darth Vazela. If one was to watch him, the surrounding air would appear hazed and he would look like of faze, like the air around him hot. Although upon closer inspection, the area would be as cool as it was before he had sat down. It was a curious phenomenon. The incantations he spoke continued to murmur in the room, growing steadily louder in decibels, the most his rage and hated gathered in momentum. With each passing moment, the dark side of the Force grew stronger and stronger, as Vazela fed his awesome connection to the Force into the Sith Magic he would cast.

None of them would be safe. Not even his allies. For the Sith Magic that Darth Vazela was about to use would affect the entire vicinity. Anyone caught in the Qâzoi Kyantuska would fall under his control. It was piece of magic that allowed one to Suppress Thought another, as the Basic translation indicated. For all his knowledge, Vazela had only been able to control the Qâzoi Kyantuska via touch of another being. The other only way that he knew how to use the Sith Magic was on in a kilometer radius to himself. Consequentially, if he only wanted to use the Suppress Thought on the insurrectionists then he would have to touch them first; and he had no intentions of risking himself to their counter attack, by breaking his concentration to move.

No, he would have to remain still and ready to strike when the Force energy surrounding was at it's peak. When it had climaxed, he would unleash a Suppress Thought in a kilometer radius. Everyone in that kilometer would be under his control. Nothing, not even the Soulsaber belonging to Mikhail Shorn, the artifact that Moridin had gifted Kaine Zambrano on Byss nor the mastery of the other Sith Masters and their Sith Knight counterparts would be able to stop it, once it was cast.

But as for all sorcerers who utilized the Force to attack in this way, rather than the utilization of a Lightsaber, there came flaws. For Vazela to unleash the Qâzoi Kyantuska, in order to bring the rebellion to an end before it had even begun, he would have to continue building that energy for quite some time. Someone else might then see him as an open target and act accordingly, in which he would have to erect his ultimate defense and stop the ensuing attack. Fortunately for him, if another Sith decided to utilize the Force, he would drain the power into himself and use it to boon his planned attack. But even that had a cost. What if they all turned and attacked him? Then he would have to move in time to avoid their attacks, physically and subsequently break his concentration. Yes, he would still have an access of energy to use in that event, but it would put back his plan to utilize the Qâzoi Kyantuska back even further.

He would have to come up with a solution and quickly. He considered interfacing his mind with Zambrano's but thought against it. Instead, he linked his mind to his secret Apprentice. One that they wouldn't expect to be in his service, at this moment in time.

"Circe, it is me, Vazela. I know you are nearby. It is my intention to bring this conflict to an end, before it has fully begun. To do this, I will need you to guard me whilst I prepare. Fend off any attacks on me and soon, I will end this feud. Do this for me... And you will one step closer to my side, where you should be."

 

[Kiara Alanna Decoix]

Kiara was growing increasingly impatient with how this bug persisted on living through this battle. However, to a rather malicious delight she finally began to perform an artwork of pain on his body. Kiara was surprised that the man could still fight after sustaining damage from her lightning and tendrils. It was then that Kiara decided to fall back on her roots as an assassin, noticing that he moved to knee her which would cause him to have to push her sabers out of the way. She smiled before utilizing the force technique of inertia & force speed to move with blinding speed to switch off her sabers twisting them into a reverse grip.

She brought them down now ignited in an x form that would aim to completely separate his knee from the rest of his upper leg. Her suit began to show that she was exerting herself, this caused a sense of disbelief but didn't stop her in the slightest.

@[member="Marcus Faust"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Pale eyes caught the slightest flicker of a figure amidst the obsidian rain, then @[member="Tyrin Ardik"] disappeared once more. The rage inside Mikhail intensified as the Soulsaber continued to feed the flames of his anger, stoking it into a wildfire that filled up the void inside of him. He felt nothing now except the need to wreak havoc on those who destroyed his life and stole his very soul from him. Namely, the Sith. Not one Sith. Not two. But all of them. He might have some supporters now, some whom another man might have called friends. Yet, if he could, he would have killed them all. Their continued existence was, for the time being, necessary. Tyrin's, on the other hand, was not.

Shorn longed for the sight of the Emperor nailed to the wall with splinters from his own throne. Instead, all he got was the glimmer of a cloud of obsidian shards zipping through the air straight toward his face. The tingle of danger ran down his spine. Precognition, a Force User's get-out-of-death free card, or so it often seemed. Mikhail's precognitive powers could never be compared to Ashin Varanin's, but that did not mean they could be written off as no better than an apprentice's. His lip curled at the hail of deathly projectiles thrown back at him. And he raised a hand.

One rule of surviving a fight with a telekinetic specialist was very simple: never, ever throw things at him. Throwing his own projectiles back at him? Well, that just pissed him off.

Stopping the shards mid-flight would take too much power. Instead, Mikhail redirected their flow as they zipped toward him. Their trajectory diverted just barely around his form and slingshotted around him, circling behind his back and then spitting out, straight at @[member="Vilox Pazela"]'s figure. Mikhail didn't exactly take well to people interfering with a one on one duel and breaking tradition, but then, he hadn't expected anyone to play fair.

"Cheater," Mikhail smirked.

The hail of splintered obsidian headed toward Vazela with enough velocity to cut the Darth to ribbons. And in his current state of concentration on a mind-control spell, countering a full force ballistakinesis blast would prove... difficult. Mikhail wanted to see bloo-

A flash of hot-cold ran across Shorn's spine. His precognition going off again.

In his arrogance, Shorn had focused his immediate attention upon Vazela, allowing Tyrin the time he needed to circle around and attack him from the rear. He paid in flesh.

Burnt flesh.

Even as the mental alarm went off in his head, Mikhail already moved to counter, connecting the dots in his head like a furious mathematician scrawling upon a board. The attack came from behind. Of course it came from behind. He brought his Soulsaber up over his head in a two handed grip and directly behind him so that the blade pointed straight down to deflect the blow. He was almost too late.

Pain ripped into him as something white-hot seared deep into the trapezius muscle of his right shoulder, but before the pain could reach Mikhail's spine the violet blade intersected the path of Tyrin's crimson saber, stopping it in its tracks. The non-cybernetic part of Mikhail's right arm went numb and that arm fell limply to hang at his side. With his remaining hand, Mikhail leveraged Tyrin's blade aside and down before it could do anymore damage. His counterstroke brought his blade, which now lay on top of Tyrin's, in a small circle as he attempted to loop the blade downward, under Tyrin's hands, and back up, in a maneuver that would sever both of the Emperor's hands. Mikhail pivoted with the maneuver, turning 180 degrees until he faced Tyrin.

The acrid tang of burning flesh filled the air. The devastating blow to Shorn's shoulder should have sent him into a half-minute of stunned pain, enough for Tyrin to finish him, but the Soulsaber sustained him with Battlemind. As it did now, giving him the will to fight, no matter the injury.

Mikhail did not waste time waiting to see what the result of his saber attack would be. He knew he was too out of practice to survive that sort of duel for long. Instead, his brows creased together sharply and he glared at the now visible Tyrin. The glare was simply a physical gesture to enhance Shorn's concentration, since Mikhail had lost the use of the hand unencumbered by the Soulsaber. A crushing grip was brought to bear on Tyrin's throat as Mikhail poured his will into caving in the Emperor's trachea, while also lifting him into the air by his throat. Force Aura would prevent Ardik from dying immediately, unlike a non-force user, but continued concentration, like a constricting snake, would squeeze the life out of him. The arteries in his throat would close up and he would lose consciousness in about ten seconds.

Shorn didn't have the patience.

The pale-eyed glare dropped to the ground as Mikhail attempted to smash Tyrin into the floor, head first.