You call that a Sith? (TSA raid of Dominion Vjun)

[Kenrath]

The Sith Lord watched his opponent topple with a slight look of confusion. He knew his attacks had not hit home despite his best effort. That meant something else had caused the man to falter. He took a step back and then another looking around the two men. Searching for the cowardly would be assassin. Vengeance was more than a little pissed off. Somebody was trying to steal his kill and worse off they were not even man enough to do it face to face.

Then he felt it........like a charging rancor he felt a darkness he had not felt since he was last of that cave on Dagobah. Vengeance contorted his body dropping into a crouch and leaping to the side. More than a little surprised as the shoulder of his cloak seemed to shred confirming his suspicions about an intervening assassin.

Keeping his guard up Vengeance closed his eyes for a split second no longer using his eyes to see by the Force itself. Whatever was causing that huge presence while invisible to the naked eye would glow like an exploding Star Destroyer in the Force.

"Only cowards hide their presence little Sith. Why not come on out and face me traitor."

Vengeance nodded his head towards [member="Judas Foster"] still speaking to the cloaked assassin.

"At least this one has the honor and courage to fight and not betray his brothers. The Jedi teach you that.........to betrayer your brothers. Your not one of mine."

Vengeance shook his head glancing at Judas.

"This is what you lend your strength to? Jedi and traitors. Why not lend that power where in can be appreciated."

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Judas of Vahl]

Groaning once more as the rear of his knee spat out the bloodied slug onto the ground, Judas quickly gave the wound a quick wipe over, smearing the crimson contents against the hilt of his sword's hilt. The magnus trembled with pleasure as its master fed it even more of his liquid life, glowing just a bit brighter than usual. Gleaming white fangs bared once again as the dark jedi reeled back and prepared to strike once again.

Just as something smashed against his faceplate. It shoved off of him, startling the former sith lord. Neck cracking and head dipping down just for the fraction of a second, Judas managed to raise his eyes up just in time to catch the glimpse of a quick waver in the air. Distortion, or an illusion of some sort. There was absolutely no way of telling what it was except for the fact that something had so ungraciously used him as a footstool.

And that pissed him off.

Immediately he triggered the injection of one of his stimulants. Yaladai. A substance so potent, so gloriously intoxicating that it gave the user an unparalleled sense of focus - and, as Judas had discovered, had this devious property of making everything he did with the Force that much more powerful.

With an already increased heart rate, the stimulant worked its way through his system in just moments.

Judas rose from his kneel and extended his offhand towards [member="Vengeance"] and the predicted (hopefully) landing place of whatever had hit his head. With one feral snarl, Judas summoned upon the dark energies that entailed the dark side of the Force and unleashed a storm of Force Lightning of which the galaxy had ever seen. White-hot and cobalt streaks cascaded from his phrik-plated fingertips and zapped in a wide arc.

If he couldn't slice up this pathetic little buffoon, he might as well char and roast him to death.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave watched as the Sith Lord he hoped to strike dropped just before his sword landed. It fancied him, to slip past a strike that’s only hint was the force of the strike that planted itself on the faceplate of his enemy. He let out a noise that seemed to cry pleasure, entertainment, if not outright ecstasy; something he only found in battle. Especially against such odds, this was the most entertaining thing he could do.

And how the Sith Lord pleaded with him, passive taunts that spoke nothing of who he was or what he fought for. There was nothing that’d even the playing field, for that was a fool’s game. What was he? An idiot?

Hardly.

As sonic dampeners kicked into action, canceling any noise he might have had when landing, and while his presence in the force was made into something so miniscule even the fabled Jedi Luke Skywalker couldn’t notice, he prepared for another strike back at [member="Vengeance"] with the haunting blade that took no prisoners. Its song was one of war, of blood, and of endless gluttonous want; forever riddled with the wraith he carried. Personified sin in the echoes of sound that echoed through the atrium they stood in.

Yet he was surprised as [member="Judas Foster"] stood only moments after taking a heavy round to the back of the knee. Not only did he stand, but the force seemed to vacuum towards him with little quarrel, arcing between his fingers before the torrent of lightning came spewing outwards; his anger manifested into a power that forced The Slave back, if not a slightly. His saving grace however, was the blade known as Ishtar; absorbing the lighting it took and holding it still.

The entirety of his power forced into nothing more than a legendary sword, prepped and ready to strike the entirety of it back towards whoever was hit first. And so he waited for an opening, quickly moving to circle the two as they began their duel once more, the aggrandized battle cry his sword let off ghosting its way through the entirety of the temple.

 

[Poe]

​I started to add more to my speech when I felt the presence of another through the Force. Clearly this individual was a follower of the dark side, her signature I glimpsed was not of those I came with, or any of the Sith I aligned with. Leaping to my feet, I turned to face one of the misguided just in time to see the first shots ring out toward us. With the guidance of the Force, and my already finely tuned reflexes, I spun away from the sporadic shots; igniting the blade end of my hilt in the process drawing forth the smoky, ash blade.

​Bjorg's soldiers, along with the man himself, returned fire toward our joint enemy. Their combined efforts would be just enough of the distraction for me to close the gap between myself and the foolish imposter who came to face us; alone. My long legs covered ground quickly, with my blade positioned out in front of me to anticipate another volley of shots. As I drew closer, I powered down the blade calling forth the lightwhip from the opposite end, and slung the trio of Lignan crystal powered tendrils in the direction of the imposter Sith; each translucent whip, a by-product of the Ghostfire crystal, dancing accurately in three different directions, each targeting a different part of the imposter's body.

​My intention wasn't to kill her, but maim her enough for the real fun to begin; as I would turn her from the cause she was prepared to die for to the cause that I served; transforming her into a powerful real Sith if she survived the metamorphosis. I learned through my galactic exploits that the best way to defeat your enemy was to break their will, turning them away from their beliefs and accepting mine. That was the true aspect of power.


[member="Lady Psyona"] l [member="Bjorg The Traitor"]

 

[Jairdain]

Jairdain's arms were open wide as she stood on top of his sun. She saw outside of her sphere his smoke and ash form circling around her unable to reach her form of light. The light he had left in his attack, what she used to provide her strength when hers started to fail. As he stalked, around her, he asked her to think on where he was. She followed their connection and found him, if she could, she would have reached out. Instead, she passed over him and continued past, her hold on his sun secure.

His spectral form receded as she sensed something going on external to her connected with Lykos. The loss of the lives near him was felt by Jairdain. He was stronger than she was and still able to perform another task. What it was, she had no clue. She was kept at bay though from striking at him. Icy chains wrapped around the sun, unable to touch her, but she could not reach out. To do so would overextend her own ability and allow him in.

He gave her mere heartbeats to collect her waning reserves. As the beats past, he would grab her spiritually, almost intimately and even though the touch was ice cold, it was gentle. His cold touch receded and she found herself an almost desert racked by sandstorms and out of place rivers of ice. A sun high above them, but what Jairdain went to reach for it, found she could not touch it. This was his domain, his mind and what was his she could not use here.

His form appeared in front of her to be whisked away by the winds but not before Jairdain had seen his smirk. His confidence in victory. The attack he gave was not so much of an attack, but of a memory. She would see her parents coming out of the desert, their skin bloody on their hands, the rest of their flesh torn and bleeding. Mouths parted and parched. She knew them to be dead. How did he know of her parents?

They welcomed her as they died at her feet, the blood of them staining her robes. She knew this vision to be a false one, but she still gave into her sorrow and loss. Feeling the deaths of her parents from many years ago all over again. Bringing a small wound to her psyche. Wanting to believe what she was seeing, Jairdain would reach out to touch her mother and father. Before that happened though, she withdrew her hand. To touch them was give into the battle, concede defeat. He was lying to her, this was not real.

She stood up and felt behind her another person touching her, though she could not see who or where. In Lykos' mind, she could see, her gift of Force vision muted while remaining within him. Jairdain trusted the Force and closed the eyes she had been granted and felt for the presence of the Sith Lord that challenged her.

[member="Darth Lykos"] [member="Soeht"]

 

[Causstik Rahn]

[SIZE=11pt]Causstik Rahn Kicked his pod door and it went flying with a resounding [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]snap, crack, hiss! [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]He surveyed the area. His warriors had been scattered throughout the battlefield to fight on their own terms leaving Causstik to fend for himself. This was no consequence to him though as the Trandoshan war-chief had hoped to be alone on this the most sacred of hunts. Causstik seemed to have landed in some meditation chamber. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]His pod had punched a hole straight through the roof and a small amount of acidic rain trickled through, kicking up wisp of smoke as it landed on the ground below. Causstik studied his surroundings and found that he was not alone in the chamber. Three saber wielding foes surrounded him and as he had kicked his pod door open their swords had found light. A wicked grin spread across his face and Causstik beckoned for them to come with his left while his right shot to the Verpine pistol on his hip. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The force users charged and in a split second Causstik’s pistol had left it’s holster. He didn’t bother to aim, merely firing it from the hip. The pellet raced forward at ludicrous speeds and impacted with one of the Jedi’s arms. The dismembered arm flew backwards trailing red like banners as it did so. The Jedi’s screams filled the air as he gripped the stub where his arm once was. But, as Causstik fired the other two opponents had closed the gap, using their powers in the force to quickly close the distance. Causstiks gauntlets sprouted phrik claws and he turned to face his foes and the pistol worked it’s way back into his holster. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A swing over head was met with a parry and a riposte. Causstik swung his arm out to the right causing the blade to go wide, while he simultaneously thrusted his left into the man's jugular. Blood jetted out of his throat and his hands clasped around the wound, trying fervently to keep the life force from leaking out to no avail. Causstik’s serpentine tongue flicked out between serrated teeth and the taste of copper filled his palette. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Grahahaha,” He laughed his voice like raking leaves as he turned to face his final opponent. The man stood frozen in fear as he kept trying to do what Causstik assumed was use the force to save himself. But, it would not work on Causstik for he had made his armor especially for this hunt. So he stomped forward slowly and the man extended both hands this time. He strained visibly as he put everything he had learned of the force to work, but still the monster trudged onward. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“GRAHAHA!” The beast laughed one last time then it was upon him. Causstik swung one clawed hand as the other gripped the man by a tuft of hair. He swung repeatedly at the man's neck. Tendons snapped, flesh peeled, bone broke and his screams permeated the room. Causstik ripped the head free with one final yank and stared into it’s now empty eyes. “Hahaha,” He laughed as he tossed the head behind him and bent low to grab the man’s saber.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=11pt]In the room near [member="Jakkor Kess"][/SIZE]

 

[Orion Darkstar]

​

Current Foe: [member="Adron Malvern"]​

​

The wait was over. If any man was patient it was Orion. The young traitor danced on the decayed ground. Shifting his saber and aligning his strike. It wasn't the saber or the young boy that Orion was concerned about; no. It was the seconds. The thrum of his heart came in calm, steel beats of three. The amount of time it took the young rat before him to initiate was three seconds. Most important and critical were the seconds counting down, till the opaque saber would singe his right arm. Again, like everything else; three seconds is what it came down to. He wouldn't move a moment sooner or later. His internal clock striking midnight as he snapped into action. ​

​

Orion wouldn't allow a false sith to gain victory, not now, not ever. ​

​

3.​

​

He needed to be fast, faster than most. The white saber of death was inches from contact. Orion stepped carefully to the side as a furiously agile motion of his wrist forced his red saber upward. The blade met with the blind boy's own, sparks spewing out as they made contact. The display shimmered in the night, a beacon of truth that played like a song taking place across the battlefield. Orion breathed in lightly, gracefully sliding his saber closer to the hilt of the foe before him. The pink hue that was created only lasted for a moment before Orion pushed upward. The sabers released from one another, an arch spreading wide from the opponent's useless tool, thus creating a wide gap for Orion to indulge. ​

​

The pattern remained, the simple steps to victory calmly speaking to him as the force guided him. His hand tightened around the hilt, before he loosened the grip. ​

​

1.​

​

Orion counted. The vibrant humming of his own saber swiped forward as he stepped into the large gap, created by knocking the boy's saber wide. A quick piercing motion extending from his forearm as the blade aimed for the maggot's chest. Centered; perfectly centered. It wasn't uncommon to take control of the fight, it was a key component to surviving. ​

​

2.​

​

Orion retracted his saber quickly, as the blade moved back to the right side with a swift slash horizontally through the air. Not only would this allow him time to prevent a counter, but also enough time to regain control. ​

​

3. ​

​

The count in his mind stopped. He shifted his feet flawlessly. The extension of his saber finally corrected. It ended up in front of him once more. Results meant nothing to him, at least until what stood in his way was dead. It all happened in seconds his eyes scanning over his opponent waiting to see the damage. More important, ready for whatever came next. A sly grin formed under his mask, the darkside remained. ​

​

[member="Rainer Altman"] | [member="Drios Rapux"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Bjorg The Traitor"] | [member="Satia the Cruel"] | [member="Darth Mara"] | [member='Bjorn Heartholm"] | [member="Cairyn Midore"] | [member="Rakkus"] | [member="Vengeance"] | [member="Judas Foster"] | [member="The Slave"] |​

 

[Kaden]

LOCATION: Castle Bast Courtyard
OBJECTIVE: Defeat the Ascendancy
ALLIES: [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Jairdain"] | [member="Arisa Yune"] | [member="Karl J. Winters"] | [member="Jakkor Kess"] | [member="Vitha Sat-thuron"]
ENEMIES: [member="Krest"] | [member="Matthew Justice"]

Lightsabers, blue and red, crackled and hissed as they met in the air. The blow was powerful and stopped the pureblood in his tracks. His own narrowed, amber, gaze met Krest's own in the lock, which steadily pushed Kaden's saber back towards his own face. The heat licked his cheekbones, the light bathed his crimson features in a purple glow.

With a wince, Kaden executed a sidestep and disengaged the saber lock with a flourish of his double bladed lightsaber. Yuroic had entered the fray, and was ushering the Sith to leave.
"Don't be a fool, Yuroic," he stated, eyes still fixated on the Sith Lord. "Nobody is innocent in war. This Sith is our enemy, and will continue his bloodthirsty crusade along with the rest of the Ascendancy unless we end him, together, here and now. If we don't stop him, who knows how many actual innocents will die by his hand."

With that, the pureblood pressed his attack; feinting with a stab before twisting and slashing with the other end of his blade, aiming to cut through Krest's abdomen.

---

Hayden Turias was taken by surprise with Matthew's swift assault and found himself on the backfoot. His form was defensive indeed, as his yellow lightsaber deflected blow after blow. Their battle was a lightshow, a flurry of skilled saber movements that would not have been out of place in Coruscant's light opera.

As the wall of the courtyard grew ever nearer to the Jedi's back, Hayden drew the force into his palm and sent it forth in a desperate blast to throw Matthew back and off the offensive.

((OOC: Sorry for the delay, had to deal with some stuff IRL that killed my muse yesterday!))​

 

[Darth Ferus]

"The time for words is passed. Stake your lives on the line and fight for your convictions. I will grant you a swift and honorable death." Krest's only goal was to prevent as many Jedi from getting to the temple as possible. Be it by words or fight, the Sith would do just that. With a quick swing of his blade he would catch the feint but only barely. His lips were a thin line, his eyes narrowed in focus. Without actually moving a hand he would reach out with the Force, a low rumble sounding off as he did so. A crushing power would begin to close around [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] to cut off his air flow and more importantly hold the other Padawan back.

With his attention split between trying to choke one and fend off the other he kept more defensive, letting [member="Kaden"] take the lead. The Pureblood would easily see what Krest was attempting to do to his ally, and that was the point. Unsettle, undermine. Unbalance. An unbalanced Jedi was often a dead one, though he wondered how much it would actually affect a Padawan.

 

[WelshPsych]

He felt the pressure on his throat, gripping at his throat. He couldn't breath as he watched almost helplessly, it seemed that there was fists squeezing as hard as they could on his throat. His vision darkened as air became more difficult to breath in. He struggled to think straight. Yuroic used the Force and sent a rock to the Sith Lord's head, hoping that this would knock off his concentration enough to release him. Freed he would slam his fist on the ground, coughing and wheezing for breath. It seemed that Kaden was right. The Sith decided to fight instead of being reasonable. He grabbed his practice saber and charged at the Sith.

He jumped in the air, bring his blade down fast on the Sith once more. His attack was aiming for the head of the Zabrak and he was determined to strike this time. He then whipped his blade around, attacking at the right side of the Sith. Help me attack him Kaden. If we both attack at the same time then there's a better chance that he can't block or dodge our attacks. Yuroic shouted to the Sith pureblood as he swung his blade with all his strength, determined to batter the Sith Lord until there was nothing left.

[member="Kaden"] | [member="Krest"]

 

[Adron Malvern]

Location: Vjun Sith Temple
Mission: Defend The Temple, Guard against the Sith threat
Current Opponent: [member="Orion Darkstar"]

In all capacities of the word the Sith who stood before Adron was a duelist. Not some beast of destruction whose every lightsaber stroke was an uncoordinated mess, this man was nothing to be underestimated. Adron's probe had been taken as a fish would take hold of bait. Their blades came into contact, a loud hiss echoing from their weapons as a pink hue shot from their connection. Holding firm in the meet Adron watched as his opponent slowly rode down the length of his blade. Rather than stay stasis in this time of tension Adron took a step back from the man, drawing his fully outstretched arm into a crease at his elbow, pulling his blade from his enemies leverage.

When the Sith attempted to throw his own blade into an arch it was met with only the high end of his weapon being forced into the air for a quick moment, severely closing the window the Sith hoped to open.

Adron watched his opponent take advantage of the bridge in the duel he had created, yet he had underestimated Adron's own skill with the blade, and that too could prove fatal. Rather than react aggressively to the man's jab toward's his chest Adron simply creased his wrist, bringing his blade back into the air as he offered a quick rotation of his hand. His white blade flew to the left, batting the enemy's weapon away from the Count. As his lightsaber came through the air to defend him he turned his left shoulder back away from the Sith, leaving his body narrowed to the enemy.

Keeping his free hand clasped back behind his back Adron let out a soft exhale, trying to remember that he would die if he held his breath anymore.

Remarkable.... Adron mused, taking notice of the almost serene image that his opponent showed. Perhaps it was Adron's newness to such battles but he was far less stable than the man before him, every part of his mind ever attempting to run rampant into thoughts of strategy.

As the Sith returned to a neutral stance Adron cleared his mind, taking note of the Sith's form and the particular style of footwork he used when negotiating Adron.

A moment between them passed, as if the world had come to a silent stand still awaiting the duel between the two to return to climax. Allowing a slight bend in his knees Adron approached the man once again, this time Adron took a slightly more aggressive approach.

Rotating his wrist in a counter-clockwise motion Adron allowed his entire forearm to follow in a widening arch, aimed to meet his opponent's lightsaber in a cross-lock between the two of them. However, at the last moment Adron would throw his arm, applying more power than would be expected from an attack of such caliber, attempting to bat his opponent's weapon out of the way. If the simple maneuver was met with success he would re-correct his wrist, while stepping forward, allowing him to aim a jab right for the man's chest.

 

[Natalie LaForte]

What fools. Not just the false Sith, and now the Jedi, but the very Sith she was fighting with. Re-evaluating the plan would make Serenity think that these people only came here for bloodshed, though that was the dark side way,

Through strength I gain power

And whatever other teachings she had lost interest in. She reminded herself that she wasn't a hippie who bowed down to some Galactic Republic, no, she had at least the integral pride to know that at the end of the day, the only thing controlling her was herself. The hypocritical Jedi have long since forgotten their original teachings, so they deserve to be stolen from. Which is exactly why she was here. The only thing that needed to not happen was for the temple to be destroyed before she could retrieve the Amulet of Equilibrium that was the very thing needed to complete mastery of her favourite force technique.

Given the sheer panic, a combination of selfless acts by the Jedi, and now, the multiple duels occurring around the battlefield, it was not difficult, no, not difficult at all for her silent entrance to go off without a hitch. Climbing the entrance staircase and now finally reaching the innards, it was merely a matter of finding the underground cavern that housed the precious trinket and it was ripe for the picking in her mind.

A voice spoke.

"Natalie..."

Not again. It was the voice of her mother. Only she would have the audacity not to call her by one of her two aliases and say her birth name. Well, it wasn't her actual mother, no, it must have been a hallucination. It was quiet to begin with, but it must have provided some sort of aide as the traced through the corridors and now down the ladder to a dark cave, it was clear this was the exact place she was looking for.

It spoke again.

"Natalie for goodness sakes, finish your chores!"

Yes it was definitely a hallucination, the voice grew deeper in pitch, more sinister, like a father talking down to their child. This was not Serenity's father. No. This was an entirely different being altogether. It was now not omnipresent, but rather could be heard muffled in a dark crevice, save being lightened by an old fashioned torch.

Taking one step further, the voice spoke once more.

"You should be more careful"

As an arrow, yes, an arrow, came thudding into the opposite wall. This place was very primitive. As it thudded, all of the torches illuminated and the scene was very clear. Dropped light sabers, figures in stasis, both Sith and Jedi, whom, in a desperate last stand had sacrificed their own to stop the temple from falling. How cute. But there was only one thing on Serenity's mind, the glistening amulet that had landed right infront of her.

Her hand motioned to pick it up, and a gleaming pink light came from it aimed directly at her heart. Now she too, was frozen in time. The amulet moved, and the spike dug into her skin, a band of light wrapped around her arm, securely fastening it to her.

"We're gonna have some fun!"

The temple shook, not enough to cause anybody damage or really even make anybody notice, but if they were not caught up in the fighting, they would feel what was happening underground.

Spoiler

[member="Krest"] I [member="Bjorg The Traitor "]I [member="Darth Sarcophago"] I [member="Drios Rapux"] I [member="Bjorn Heartholm"] I [member="Adron Malvern"] I [member="Rainer Altman"] I [member="Rakkus"] I [member="Cairyn Midore"] I [member="Judas Foster"] I [member="The Slave"] I [member="Vengeance"] //

At this point I'm tagging people so if somebody wishes to interfere, they may do so. My primary objective is not to fight, but if it happens so be it.

 

[Darth Sibilus]

"Friend? How dare you utter that word to me, you traitorous, pitiful excuse for Sith. You are nothing but a deranged freak, and I will gladly end your suffering."

The Epicanthix towered over his foe, an imposing obstacle clad in a dark cloak. His eyes burned and his fingers clenched, itching to tear this pathetic life form limb from limb with his bare hands. But no, that was not his way anymore. The weapon that burned in his hand would do, an object almost as fearsome as it's master. "I will show you your mistakes in pledging yourself to your Jedi friends, instead of the power of the true Darkness. [Burn]."

The moment the word burn slipped from his lips, Drios extended his palm and shot an inferno of blue flames towards Cairyn, a skill he had learned from the library of Bastion, and he doubted Cairyn would have encountered such an attack before. As the fireball ripped through the air at the other Sith, Drios' haunches propelled him forwards through the air, his blade angled forwards as he sailed like a ominous bat through the night air, a guttural yell exploding from his lungs.

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

"Woah and here I was tryna' be friendly. Geez, mister, I think you need to calm down." If he were being completely honest, he had no clue what this was about. This wasn't the first time he was called a freak, nor would it likely be the last. Up until now, he wasn't aware that he was suffering.

Even with what distance they had between them, Cairyn still had to look up at the comparative giant. The man had to be well over a foot taller than him - probably capable of crushing the Teevan with his person alone. Even looking certain loss in the eye, his own wide and unblinking, he felt no fear. His body shudder with excitement, each movement an exaggeration to further his facade. Beneath the surface, there was nothing less than a dangerous calm. "That would actually be great, 'cause I have no idea what mistakes you're talking abou- woah!"

The fire was new to him, completely unheard of, entirely unexpected and narrowly missed. Cairyn could feel the heat as lunged to the side, his uncanny flexibility being the saving grace of his otherwise undeveloped skill set. Mobility would be his friend, he noted, feeling the heat of the flames lick at his skin, singe his hair even in his dodge. He continued his advancement to the side giving a little yelp as his body contorted to avoid being impaled, scrambling for his own weapon. "O-or maybe we could simply talk?" He suggested, moving to put some distance between him and his much more physically imposing opponent, voice cracking as it rose in octave. He was growing to hate how easy it was to slip into the role of distress, but at the moment, it was what he had. "Hi, my name's Cairyn. What's yours? How'd you do that cool fire thing?" With each rapid-fire question he was on the move, vying for the most optimal position.

[member="Drios Rapux"]​

 

[Vitha Na'iv]

Allies: [member="Yuroic Xeraic"], [member="Kaden"]
Enemies: [member="Krest"]
Objectives: Kill various non-allied Sith, support her fellow padawans
Equipment: Blue saberstaff, natural defenses

Vitha watched the battle unfold below, saber clutched in her talons but deactivated, she was but a mere speck in the sky. This mixture of indoor and outdoors fighting was a problem. An ambush predator she couldn't allow herself to just drop into the middle of a battle unless it was completely in the open and her prey had no chance of escape. To make matters more difficult she couldn't easily distinguish, even her ability to make out a lizard from over three miles away, who was supposed to be an ally and who an enemy. Everyone wielded red lightsabers and those who engaged Jedi often ended up being engaged by other friendly troops. She required an open and clear battle for maximum efficiency.

Eyes roamed scanning each little engagement when they alighted a small battle. Two Jedi, padawans she believed, were fighting a Sith. It was only proper to provide some assistance, rolling over she began to dive slowly descending almost step by step so she could always have an idea of what was going on. Relaxing her muscles she stretched out into the force and practically glided her mind into a stream that seemed disturbed by the effects of the battle. Dropping into what was rapidly becoming rapids she let herself go. Riding the currents and she began a steep dive straight down towards her prey who wielded what seemed to be a lightsaber on a cane.

The two blades on her saberstaff activated at the same time as [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] leaped and attacked. Dropping altitude rapidly and gaining speed. Tracking [member="Krest"] with both her eyes and the force her natural predatory instincts took over. He was her prey and so he was going to die no matter what he did to try to avoid his fate as a meal under her talons.

Her presence in the force was obvious as she made no attempt to hide herself. She was an Avogwi, ruler of the skies, apex predator on practically any world, and the only time she hid was the set up for the attack. Now that she was in her swoop she had become the spirit of attack. More then that though she was a Jedi which meant to Vitha that defending those weaker then herself was important. This clashed badly with everything she'd been taught in the nest but so long as those weaker at least tried to defend themselves she couldn't fault them to badly. Even if they didn't though she at least expected them to move out of her way much like she expected her two fellow padawans to the moment they realised what was practically a guided missile was going to be engaging the Sith they were trying to deal with.

 

[Darth Sibilus]

Impressed with the smaller man's speed and agility, Drios quickly figured an all out aggressive tactic would simply not be enough. Drios would also not fall into the acolyte's verbal trap, it would coax the Epicanthix from his steely shell, which he had worked so hard to form in order to appear intimidating powerful. Rapux could feel his distress, both through the Force and the physical quirks Cairyn fell victim do, and he grinned. Perhaps a feeling of fear had washed over him, as he realised that he would surely die at the hands of his superior. Or maybe Drios had underestimated his foe, yes, he must stay vigilant of any deceptive tactics the Teevan would display.

Drios' blade would fall upon Cairyn, aimed to vertically slice his body in order to end the fight with speed and aggression, as he was feeling slightly fatigued from the power it took to launch the fireball at Cairyn. However, he was not foolish enough to show it, and his Makashi fighting style would not falter as a result.

In order to reign supreme over Cairyn, Drios had to find a weakness, an Achilles' heel to be exploited.

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Orion Darkstar]

​

Current Foe: [member="Adron Malvern"]​

​

Orion failed, he knew just by looking at him. His own efforts thwarted by a lesser being. The boy was good at saber combat, but good, wasn't enough. As they separated, Orion glared at the youthful traitor. How could someone so young blindly follow those that were cowards. The Silver Jedi were the last straw. The Dominion Sith breached a line that never should have been crossed and for that, the boy would die. Not because Orion was ordered to. Rather, in order to keep the sith strong, weeding out the weak was a necessary duty to the dark side. Orion felt a hint of despair for the gifted child in front of him. Slaughtering the whelp would mean absolute loyalty, but instead he felt for him. ​

​

He would strip away his youth, end it in a abrupt swing of his crimson blade. The life he could have, would be non-existent. The life he should have been able to live long and prideful, expunged from the world entirely. The worst of all things to take perhaps, would be his potential chance to create a legacy. The boy's name vanishing like that of Orion's own father. Wilting away as the years would progress. ​

​

Was it so bad to take from him, when he was a fake? Would the galaxy condone such indescribable weakness? If not Orion, then what? What would exterminate such a treacherous person from the clutches of the galaxy at large? ​

​

It had to be Orion. Chancing the idea of keeping someone so brainwashed alive, could be a threat to his own goals and legacy. The thoughts that ran through his mind seized up for a moment as the young boy swung for him. ​

​

The white streaming blade came fast, but not quite fast enough. The smooth motion of a flick upward met the white blade with his own. A loud clash spraying into the night like a banshee screeching for help. Orion's heels fell flat, the swing was powerful from the boy. Worse than that, he felt it once more. A sudden dread falling heavy over him as his own saber gave way. The cerise blade shot outward, the boy following through with a deadly stroke towards his chest cavity. The thrum of his heart skipped, his mind locking itself out from everything else other than what laid before him. The white blade cut through the thick cloth of his cloak, almost reaching his chest. At the last moment, Orion reacted. The shudder of the force resonating with him. ​

​

He shuffled his feet to the right, his body turning to avoid the blade before melting his skin away. It came with a price as the tip nearly cut a hole in him. Instead a fierce burn caught his chest. Ichor, spilling out from the injury as he grimaced. There was no time to hesitate or he was dead. The turn provided strength, even though forces beyond his control kept him far from his best. Finally free from the vicious strike, Orion grabbed his hilt with both hands and swung mid twirl. The blindingly fast streak of red that sliced through the midnight air was unpredictable. ​

​

He could change the direction of the blade at any moment, carefully waiting till the naive warrior took the bait.​

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[member="Rainer Altman"] | [member="Drios Rapux"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Bjorg The Traitor"] | [member="Satia the Cruel"] | [member="Darth Mara"] | [member='Bjorn Heartholm"] | [member="Cairyn Midore"] | [member="Rakkus"] | [member="Vengeance"] | [member="Judas Foster"] | [member="The Slave"] | ​

 

[Adron Malvern]

In terms of lightsaber combat, speed and precision decided the victor. Those immersed in the world of battle learn to ascend past a state of unknowing, throwing themselves into an overdrive that allows their body to work and react almost as if it was in autopilot. For Adron this state of being was had yet to be achieved. As his blade moved with vicious speed, hoping to taste the sweet sting of home, he felt himself losing focus. His mind becoming so wrapped up into the battle that it distracted him from the very thing he was so focused on. Tripping over his own thoughts and movements Adron was not prepared for the counter he was met with.

The Sith turned with the matched grace of a spinning leaf, allowing Adron's blade a teased moment of success before it met only darkness and air.

His opponent's movements became a blur and were he any more unfocused that blur would have met certain death. Luckily for the boy he was able to capture what remained of his bearing to return to some semblance of a defense. As the crimson blade illuminated the darkness around Adron, he stepped back drawing his blade back in from it's attack and bringing it in front of his body to protect himself.

However, his footwork had faltered and in such a rapid twist he was left unbalanced. As the lightsaber collided with his own he was forced back from his enemy, his footsteps becoming less and less coordinated until finally he teetered back and slammed into the ground. Dropping his lightsaber only inches from his hand he could hear the soft click of the pressure pads, causing the weapon to shut off.

Pain struck through his spine but he did not have the luxury to dwell on it. Bringing his hands to his chest, creating a sphere within his palms he focused the Force into his grip. Anger slowly building in the boy it gave him a slight release, making the attack easier than normal. Throwing his hands forward, Adron let out a vicious yell, sending a kinetic wave crashing towards his enemy. Hopefully strong enough to even the playing field.

[member="Orion Darkstar"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

Cairyn was a bit annoyed when he got to answers to his questions. Really, how could his opponent be so rude? Here he was, attempting to have a good ol' conversation before he gutted the Epicanthix and the guy doesn't respond? No, it wasn't annoying, it was infuriating. Part of him wanted to maneuver around behind Drios, smack him upside the head, and demand he be answered like any decent person. The other part of him, the part that acknowledged that beings with lightsabers weren't people to try that type of thing with, fought for control.

He met Drios' blade with his own. Not even pretending he could match the other with brute force, he instead focused his upper half on simply not dying. He aimed a kick at his enemy's knee, perhaps with the intention to bring him down to Midore's level. Once more, he didn't linger long, slinking away from the blade lock the moment his foot returned to the ground. A somersault put some distance between the combatants, Cairyn readying himself for his own strike at the enemy when-

Ouch. A twinge of pain, originating in his left ankle and moving up his leg halted his momentum, a preexisting injury coming back to haunt him. He moved again, trying to mask his wince as he headed for slightly higher ground. "Wow, mister," he drawled, once again going the talkative route. "You're really strong."

[member="Drios Rapux"]​

 

[Kaden]

LOCATION: Castle Bast Courtyard
OBJECTIVE: Defeat the Ascendancy
ALLIES: [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Vitha Sat-thuron"] | [member="Jakkor Kess"] | [member="Karl J. Winters"] | [member="Arisa Yune"]
ENEMIES: [member="Krest"]

A low growl crept out of thin, red, lips, at the blocked slash - though it quickly faded as Yuroic was gripped in a choke. His amber gaze flicked between his friend and his enemy; hesitative uncertainty evident in Kaden's irises. This only lasted a moment, though, as it seemed Yuroic was smarter than he looked. The pureblood found himself wondering how the man had managed to free himself from the grasp of what seemed to be a Sith Lord - but those thoughts were interrupted by two things.

One; Yuroic ushering the Pureblood back into battle.

Two; the overbearing presence of something descending upon them all.

Kaden's gaze flicked upwards and witnessed the Sith-seeking missile that was Vitha and, with an arched eyebrow, took a few cautionary steps backwards. His saber hummed in the wind and buzzed in the rain as the pureblood observed what would happen next.