Invasion Z is for Ziost! (The Primeval invasion of Silver Sanctum Ziost)

[Condor]

Objective: B
Location: outside ODCC Mess Hall
Allies: [member="Karen Roberts"]
Enemies: [member="Catalys Maijora"]
Post: 10
____________________________
The explosion from the grenade rocked the barracks, sending shards of metal flying up into the sky before they came slicing down like molten raindrops into the snow, melting it and burrowing holes several meters deep. Then a flurry of bolts came flying out of nowhere, and he frantically rolled to the side before pushing off his one good leg and flinging himself behind an outcropping of the ODCC. The wall behind him was torn to shreds, opening up like Swiss cheese before crumbling and crashing down, sending snow flying everywhere and obscuring his vision. He quickly checked himself to make sure nothing was missing, and gladly found that nothing important had been vaporized.

His rifle, on the other hand, had been vaporized by the disruptor, split in half. It would have been functional had part of the barrel been cut off, but the trigger was also missing. Looks like he had only his two pistols to fight with, and one injured shoulder to keep him from aiming one of them well. And the echani pike, but if he had to use that he was already dead. He drew his pistols, rolling out from behind the outcropping before firing at the Jedi from the side, two independent streams of bolts flying out from the pistols as he activated his jetpack.

The Jedi returned fire without even looking, which annoyed him. If she was trying to kill him, she could at least bother to see him die. Of course, dying was not on his agenda. He was beat up, yes, but not out of the fight in any sense. The bolts struck where he been only a fraction of a second before, slowly tracking up to his position as he frantically fed more power into the jetpack, trying to outclimb the bolts while maintaining his firing rate. One per second per gun, that was the recharge rate on the battery pack. Two bolts a second, not exactly heavy fire, but enough to keep someone occupied.

The Jedi's volley stopped right as it clipped the bottom of his combat boots, sheering off the spikes that were used for traction and opening up the sole, less than an inch from his foot. Taking advantage of the respite, he dropped back down to the ground, perpendicular to his comrade from where the Jedi was, and opened fire once more.

 

[Chastity Lunelle]

Objective: A: Stay alive
Location: Ground floor of the Citadel
Allies: [member="Connor Harrison"], Silver Sanctum Coalition
Enemies: [member="Kuryr"], Primeval
Gear:
Chastity’s custom armor
Lightsaber
HK-45 Heavy Blaster Pistol

[youtube]https://youtu.be/4MsTO9qwCAU[/youtube]​

Chastity's eyes widened at the sight of her tormentor falling from her telekinetic head throw and her blaster shots. He wasn't invincible. He could be felled. It gave the Padawan a confidence and control that she had never before experienced. She did that. Even better, she could do it again. Before her victory got too savory, the slaver was back up on his feet, his face a bloody mask of rage with two yellow beads, locked on her. Chastity scrambled backwards, crab-walking on her hands and legs. She fired her blaster again, but this time, it was a wild pot shot.

The alien's electro whip cracked out towards her slender white neck. Feth! The blue plasma beam of her lightstaber came sweeping down towards her knees. Double feth! Using the Force to bolster her speed, she rolled, once, twice, right out of the lightsaber's path. The tail of the shock whip landed around her neck. Her cortosis neck plates protected her from most of the electric punishment, but not the blow of the whip itself. It stung against her armor and she cried out in pain. Worst of all, Chastity's wound was beginning to slow her down. Her body felt heavy and spent. She lay on her back, knowing that she had to move or die, but her body wouldn't obey. He was right there, she could feel his hot breath on her. She had no choice but to hit him again with everything she had.

She concentrated all of her will on pulling in the Force, and letting the Light Side surround her and flow through her. Both arms shot out as another telekinetic burst was sent out, this one aimed at his chest. Her power was waning as she lost stamina, but it had to be enough to hold him off, until...until what? Someone comes for you? Look around you. They're all dead, Chast.

As quickly as it had come, her confidence began to fade. The slaver was bigger, better trained for combat, and he had her lightsaber. The last bit of hope she had left was poured into the wish that he would simply kill her soon. She couldn't bear the thought of being enslaved by the monster.

 

[Jsc]

Obj: B
Location: Courtyard, ODCC
Allies: 9 Rangers, 1 Silver Shadow
Vs: [member="Condor"] [member="Catalys Maijora"] p11
Equip:

Spoiler

• WEAPONS:
  Synthetic Blue Lightsabers (x3): A waterproofed wide-blade with a blue synthetic force crystal. (Jedi) (Common)
• M7 Disruptor Carbine: CQC Disintegration Carbine. (Anti-Material) (Legendary)
• M27c CBP: Composite Beam Pistol. (Common) - w/ Tibanna Type 7: Blaster Ammo. (Exotic)

[*]ARMOR:

• Tin-Roberts EVA Mk II: Space Suit: w/ Color Shifting Poncho. [1] w/ Corellian Bloodsteel Visor. [1] w/ Phrik Matrix. [1] (Tier 9) (Legendary)

[*]ITEMS:

• Personal Energy Shield, Exemplar Class: w/ Power Cell Recharge Adapter. w/ Electro Shock Mode. (Exotic)

...Eyes on me.

Roberts clipped her gun to her thigh and flicked on her Personal Energy Shield. Extending two hands from her crouched position. Right in the middle of the courtyard. She didn't mind the concussions as they rocked against the barrier. The louder the better. See me. Shoot me. Keep it coming. She used the Force to defend herself and mitigate the incoming energy. Her tech shield did the rest. The battery meter rising sharply and overheating. So much for thousands of dollars spent on state-of-the-art tech. Piece of Armatech junk better work.

~ You ready yet? ~ She spoke mentally over the barrage,

~ Don't rush me woman. ~

~ Still getting shoot at Thackery. Batteries getting fried. My 90,000 c battery, damn it. ~

~ It was your idea. ~

~ Don't lecture me Jim. Just hurry up and do it. ~

~ Hold on. ...Okay. Eyes up. Here comes the money. ~

Her battery beeped into the red zone as her eyes glanced to the rooftops. Just in time to see the rain.

~ About damn time ~

___

...

The grenade went in as Karen came out. Kaboom. But up on the rooftops two squads of Rangers clambered out of the Barracks lead by a man in black. Jim Thackery. Silver Shadow and Hillbilly Jedi. He was in hurry,

"Move it. Move it. Tangos in the courtyard below. Easy money. Let's go. Let's go."

"Eyes on a friendly sir!"

"It's Roberts. I meant the other ones you moron. ...Bah. She picked the fight right in the frickin middle of our own darn base. That woman will never learn. Kennedy!? Launcher!"

"Sir yes sir."

"On my signal give em hell. ...Okay. Here we go! Pick your targets boys. Time to show the Primes what happens when you a pick a fight in the middle of the enemy base."

~ You ready yet? ~

Thackery leveled his rocket launcher and primed the first of three shots. From the top of the Barracks his men gathered to the roof's edge. Aiming to finish this fight and show the intruders what happens when you stop being stealthy. Above them Silver Gunships owned the skies. Around them the walls bleed Silver. Below them a shooting gallery with fireworks aplenty. And only two targets to choose from too.

~ Don't rush me woman. ~

The Silver Shadow smirked and unlocked the safety. Here comes the money.

___

Kaboom! The first rocket struck the bronzium statue with gusto. Heralding a new beginning to the battle. It rained down an onslaught of blaster fire from the Rangers above. Beautiful courtyard explosions. Jim Thackery would call this technique, creating a killbox. Roberts however? Well. She would just settle for not being a pin cushion anymore. Ugh.

Her battery blew with a loud pop and the shimmering shield flashed out of being. She frowned and switched to twin swords. Save the gun for now. Kaboom! ...The littered remains of the statue began to fall as she turned to face Condor for the last time. She was going to finish what she started.

 

[Isar]

Objective: A, Sith Citadel
Location: Moving from the courtyard to the
Allies: Primeval | [member="Adekos"]
Enemies: [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Romeo Sin"] | [member="Aedan Miles"]
Gear: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/56935-totem-of-the-gorax/]Totem of the Familiar | Totem of the Elemental | Chain-Whip Lightsaber | Gauntlets of the Golden One

Ursine feet splashed through a puddle of blood, leaving tracks of crimson upon the paving stones in Warok's wake. Behind him could still be heard the guttural screams of dying men as the stone golem tore through their ranks. The Ewok's lips curled in a satisfied sneer. Since returning from Endor he had developed a distinct disdain for the Jedi he had encountered there. Brazenly, they had tread upon the sacred ground of his forest, bringing in their metal sky birds. One had even convinced a tribe that he was their god. But the Silver Jedi in all their 'refined' ways had forgotten about the spirits of earth and sky. For all their talk of living in harmony with nature, they did not understand nature's power. Sanctimonious fools. He hoped the golem painted the streets with their soldiers' blood.

As for the Mandalorian. Ha. A proud, warlike race, but lacking in sagacity. They would rather burn the forest than draw any lessons from it, as strong and unyielding as the beskar they wore. The trait would break them. It had done so before.

If the Mandalorian survived the golem. If. Well, Warok would lead him on a jaunt through the city. A Sith city. More Jedi arrogance, to try and defend against Bogan warriors in a bastion forged by the Dark Side itself. Warok let out a titter as he ran. The giggle was silenced abruptly as several drop pods tore through the atmosphere with deafening shrieks; their surfaces so hot they glowed cherry red. The pods slammed into a nearby building, obliterating the roof.

Warok drew up short and narrowed his eyes at the building. A column of smoke and dust rose out of the brand new skylight. He thought he felt- Hmm. The Ewok dipped into the Fanged God's well and called upon the power of the Rakazzak Beast. With the speed and agility of a towering arachnid infusing his limbs, Warok leaped high into the air.

He came down through the massive hole in the roof of the building and rolled once before coming to his feet. Before Warok could so much as dust himself off, he was forced to duck low to avoid a series of blaster bolts. The room was ablaze with close quarters combat and several presences littered the room, their auras dark in the Force.

Blinking to let his eyes adjust, Warok noticed that one of the beings felt familiar. Adekos. The engulfing blackness of the room was unnatural. Warok let out a growl, one rounded ear twitching in annoyance. He invoked the sense of the munyip. Sharpened vision pierced the penumbra. The darkness resolved into shadowy figures. One of them menaced Adekos with hands like twin torches. A wall of fire crackled forth from that figure and a rippling wave of heat surged toward Adekos.

Warok's lips curled petulantly. Creation of fire. A cheap parlor's trick. Warok would show this charlatan what it meant to hold sway over nature.

He raised a paw and stretched his mind outward, seizing several spirits he found dancing there. He gnashed his teeth as his will overcame them. Once, the spirits had laughed at him, the 'prophesied' shaman who sought to control the spirits. They had made merry at his forced solitude, this exile of Endor. Danced at his misery.

Now? Now they cried out in terror at his unyielding grasp. A chorus of Iego's angels could not have sounded half so sweetly in Warok's ears as did those panicked cries.


"Tsaiwinnoka Hoyakut!"


The bodies of fallen Drakons shuddered. Long, rattling groans escaped dead lips. As one, the corpses rose from where they'd lain, bound by death no longer. They turned and stared at the Ewok warlock, their new master. Warok's eyes grew cruel, no room for mercy in a heart that had forgotten love's warmth.

He made a slashing gesture with one paw.

The reanimated Drakons fell upon their former brothers with cloying hands. Seeking to tear away the full-faced helms so they might feast upon the flesh of their brethren, every bite capable of infecting a new being with Warok's spell.

With an impish giggle, Warok looked away from the mayhem he'd created, searching for a foe...

(cue Aedan Miles)

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Objective: A
Location: Outer Citadel Corridor
Allies: Primeval
Enemeis: Jedi, [member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]


There was some overconfident remark shouted the Sith Lord's way. "And here I thought the Jedi would make this all to easy for me." Kentarch replied in a toneless voice. "But I'm impressed. Your the first one to ever see through my force cloak." Kentarch continued. When the man revealed his face, the Sith remained unmoved by the man's presence. With his surprise attack foiled Kentarch switched on his red lightsaber and face his attacker. Snarking, a little too snarky in Kentarch's opinion.

"I did come here to kill Jedi. Your stain on this world has come to an end." He said to [member="Joshua DragonsFlame"], pointing his lightsaber at the man. "Its time this planet was liberated from the light and returned to its rightful owners." Drawing on the force as he spoke, the Sith drew on presence of the Dark side. Then in an instant Kentarch jumped up and towards the Jedi, the force propelling him along the way. Opening strong the Sith launched a Djem So assault, with his lightsaber above the head and the saber itself angled back and down at a forty-five degree angle, Kentarch came crashing down on the Jedi Master with considerable force.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective A: Just . . . ewww
Location: A part of the Citadel that is going to need some serious desanitizing later
Allies: Silver Jedi
Enemies: [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] [member="Mishk"]

Well, that did something at least, but it was more debilitating for the Jawa than the Hutt. Bloody thick skin and insulation, but she could see it had still hurt Zambrano. Even as he started to crush that corpse and gather the burnt remains of the other body she had destroyed, she turned her focus towards his apprentice. There was no way she was going to let the Jawa recover.

A flick of her hand, and several chunks of rubble would coming flying loose from behind the Hutt and his apprentice, the aim being to smack into the apprentice and render him unconscious hopefully, if not, he would suffer more injuries that could take him out of the fight at least. As she watched though, she could just feel revulsion filling up in her as Zambrano created his sphere of blood and gore.

With an overly dramatic roar, the Hutt caused the sphere to explode towards her. She wasn't sure what the purpose this attack served, beyond making her more repulsed by the Hutt than before. Rising her free hand again, a barrier of Force energy appeared around her, but even then the blood and gore and bone still got on part of her robes and she felt one bone nick her face as it sailed past.

"That was just plain disgusting," she replied. "Lesson two, you need to chill out."

Focusing on the individual water molecules in the air, in the blood around the Hutt, even the Hutt's own cells, she began slowing them down and freezing them. The Hutt would probably start to get a feeling of hypothermia, the throne of bodies becoming covered in frost. Around Taeli, several long icicles began to form for a further attack when she needed it next.

She still had yet to use her lightsaber though, but keeping a distance might be best with dealing with Zambrano.

 

[Catalys Maijora]

Objective: B
Location: Courtyard.
Allies: [member="Condor"]
Enemies: [member="Karen Roberts"]
Gear: The Incapacitator | Heavy Pistols x2 | Taser Blade | RDI Smartpack w/ Pistols x2 | Armour

Jedi weren't fun--they were never fun. He thought to himself on how many times he'd fought them, he had captured three as Anja's enforcer, but none of those fights were easy but one. If he hadn't had a cool, Catalys would be more frustrated at this point and slip up. Luckily he had a cool, even if he was a bit eccentric. Suddenly from behind a team of soldiers attempted to strike a blow at the agent and his companion. Their rocket launcher was fixed at the statue; they should be dead or at least very hurt, maybe they'd escape fashionably. Luck was on his side yet again, a small team of infiltrators managed to engage them right before the rocket went off, the explosive missed its target by millimeters and unleashed hell further off in the distance, probably killing some poor saps in the process.

Bolts struck the ground near them before the firepower turned its attention towards the unit now engaging them. Hopefully they'd win and if not they'd at least buy him some time. Catalys looked over to Condor, "We're no use alone. We need to stick together, and take her down together; I have no idea who you are, though, so that's our disadvantage. Mercenary, right? I'll pay you five times over if we make it out of this one alive." His rifle was locked and loaded, ready for anything.

"Keep distracting her, try to pin her somewhere, I'll get in close." He didn't ask about it, they had no time. If he waited seconds more she'd probably be mauling them to death before they realized what happened. He became the bait, though, the Umbaran rushed out from cover in a sprint and towards a crumbling building. It was where the groundskeepers kept all their machinery, not exactly the most defensive position. Hopefully that'd give Condor an advantage.

 

[Kenrath]

Objective: A
Location: Citadel
Allies: Primeval and allies
Enemies: [member="Kha'ro"]
Gear: Standard dark robes and Red Blade saber.

As Vengeance breached the doorway of the Citadel he slowed to a walk. He surveyed the scene around him with a smile. As he pushed forward Vengeance swung his saber cutting down a padawan in front of him. During the corner he saw a scene that made him positively giddy with excitement. Directly in front of him were a few acolytes pushing forward, in the middle were two younglings positively terrified of what was going on, and the other side of them was were a handful of Padawans. One of which almost seemed to be meditating. Vengeance growled plowing through the useless Acolytes.

"You call yourselves Sith you worthless sods." "If you want a job done you may as well do it yourself."

He strolled up lifting one of the younglings into a force choke as he continued to step forward. With his free hand he took his saber and impaled the young boy in the dead center of his chest. As the boy fell dead Vengeance caught the front of the boys robe picking him up and tossing his body between him and Kha'ro.

He looked at the Jedi.

"You have two choices Jedi filth." "You can stand and fight and I will make your death quick." "Or you can take the cowards path and run." "Make me chase you and you will spend the last hours of your pitiful existence begging me to end your pain."

Vengeance smirked stepping over the body of the boy he had just killed. His free hand lifted up an arch of lightening jumping from his hand towards the Jedi.

 

[Ellie Mors]

Objective: B (Suicide)
Location: Approaching the Command Center, on foot
Allies: Death | [member="Corvus Raaf"]
Enemies: Time | [member="Valiens Nantaris"] | [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]
Gear: Lightsabers, Singlet, Arm, Eyes, Sith Robes
Theme: Valley Song

Spoiler

[media]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NvZFynN--NA[/media]

​

Atrophia, upon the awareness of the Jedi Master leaping into the fray directly towards her with the hum of a lightsaber trailing from above, immediately called upon the force to rip the saber from the loop at her hip and lit the crimson blade. Its hilt was curved, the Sith Lord smirked; to expect her to be a pushover in close combat due to her lack of mid-ranged abilities, thus her reliance on longer ranged Sith magic, was a grave error that would result in a much harder, far more difficult, battle than what they had previously succeeded thus far with the distance between the opposing sides. Not even the split second between the activation of the lightsaber had passed prior to the woman immediately utilizing the force to enhance her reflexes and speed, something she had been quite well-known for during her tenure as the Dark Lord's voice, and entered a Makashi salute prior to parrying the Djem So's falling avalanche-like strike. Blade against blade, but rather than fighting the momentum of the strike the Sith did something far more intelligent - utilizing the Jedi master's momentum against him, and her flexibility in this case, the Vahla lowered to the ground as she slid the tip of her blade towards the Jedi's hilt and immediately kicked her feet out from under herself to fall back towards her back while sliding in the Jedi's general direction, twisting her wrist and then flipping her grip on the hilt to switch the direction of the blade's strike to aim towards the man's wrist.

It was roughly about this moment that she felt the seizing in her chest, the pressure immense - almost as if she had been trapped beneath a slab of permacrete that bore into the right side of her chest. A popping noise and she wondered if her eardrums had burst - but the sudden and intensely sharp pain in her chest with the drawing of a breath almost moments later told her she had just lost one of her lungs. Biting back the urge to scream - which in hindsight would have likely been a wonderful way to get the rather touchy-feely man off of her back, metaphorically speaking of course - Atrophia pushed her left heel into the ground and turned her right foot towards her aggressor to push hard. The result was a sudden, force-enhanced, push-back to draw herself away from the Jedi while she pulled all of that pain - that inhuman ammunition - and channeled it together with all of the hatred and rage she had been pushing out from her for the last several minutes when she had originally procured the waves of the dark side of the force. Being that the magic required at least some semblance of focus, however, the dark clouds began to part, fading, as she found that center - eyes locking on [member="Valiens Nantaris"]. Somewhere, she knew, the Dark Jedi would attempt to crush another limb or another organ, or perhaps even risk her ally with a barrage of those incessantly annoying shells, but at this point - right now - none of that mattered. She grit her teeth, slid her left foot forwards, right foot back, and pictured Corvus' face. There was no chance of survival now, there were only minutes to go before she'd be dead and on the ground - yet she hadn't shown. There would be no capability for the Sith Lord to wait any longer, and while in any other situation she would have bit back the urge to let that anger flow through her, let it control her, but these two Jedi, Dark and Light as she and Corvus were, seemed to reach far enough down into the dark recesses of her mind and trigger the same rage that sent the then-knight, Silara, into a frenzy that resulted in the death of her former master, Darth Mierin.

Eyes set, narrowing, she closed them. There was no need to look, no need to see, and with a growl she pushed forwards, her body moving like a blur towards the Jedi master with skin that paled to translucence, with a mind that pictured the Jedi Grand Master that had broken her promise, and with a heart that throbbed with the rage that drove her to suicide. While the Jedi Master would likely have not allowed her even a moment of rest - which she hardly could have called the brief switch in footwork after skidding back - the Sith Lord flourished the lightsaber she held in a forward grip, standard of Makashi, and as she neared him she leaned in towards her foe with determination and a relentless rage boiling beneath like a storm. "There is no escape from your fate, why do you run?" The voice spoke clearly into the head of the Sith Lord, though she shrugged it off as she lowered her blade in a downward feint, only to bring it back up in a sharp arc towards the Jedi Master, intent fully on landing a blow before the steam of her rage ran out. "You have served me the purpose of bringing her to my voice, you're worthless now." The nagging of the words were insulting, especially in the context of her understanding. "What a pity if would be if you were to die so suddenly..." Atrophia's eyes flew open, jaw set so tightly that she felt the popping of her teeth as they bit down hard. Rage flew through her and she looked towards the Jedi with a glare that could kill - trying to focus that hate, control that rage. "Foolish girl, I hold the strings." Suddenly the Sith Lord was falling, eyelids slowly beginning to close, and her body went numb. All of that rage, that anger, for naught. "And they have been cut."

---

In life death is impossible to escape, mortality lurking behind every corner. The puppet had told the Jedi, [member="Corvus Raaf"], that such was the case, that there was no escaping this finality, a moment so permanent, set in stone, that no force in the galaxy could alter its permanence. Yet still the Jedi had the audacity to promise her presence at her final moments, to swear, even, to saving her - yet where was she now? Where was the good in this galaxy when even the shield that was raised against the darker forces of the galaxy could not protect one single soul? In truth Silara had known there would have been no escape, that Corvus never could have appeared - the visions never gave her a glimpse of her face, not in this life or the next. For being a Sith Lord that subjected so many of her enemies to extensive plotting, plans which came to fruition years afterwards with devastating effects, it was obvious there had been no planning behind her entry into this battle, not with such a swift and sudden death - the Sith Lord falling into her enemy's saber as though it were a welcoming embrace. With her passing came the crying out of the force as a literal nexus of the dark side was vanquished by two masters of the force. Words whispered into the ears of a single Jedi Master, calm but withdrawn.

"I forgive you, and I am sorry you will have to wait.. a little while.. longer."

Such is the end of the Sith Lord that had been known to her family as Silara, by her foes as Atrophia, with a heart that just could not take the pain.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Objective: Just... yeeeeeeeessssssss! (A)
Location: A Part of the Citadel that had just been newly redecorated! (Inside the citadel)
Allies: Poor [member="Mishk"], (Primeval)
Enemies: This woman will learn to love the flesh! ([member="Taeli Raaf"])
Gear: Oh, well you see here I've got my hands, my Throne, my whip, my Lovey! , and a secret surprise!

Spoiler

My whip is something I've used since day one, a six five meter long paralytic barbed whip capable of rending flesh into shreds, and lacing the wounds with a quick acting paralytic drug that relaxes the muscles for increased damage upon subsequent lashes, without numbing the pain. Often seen dirty with chunks of flesh and dry coagulated blood coating it. Immediate effects of the poison affects only the lacerated area, but will spread quickly throughout the radius given several moments, especially if close to major arteries.


As for my special surprise, I won't tell what it is, but I promise it isn't anything cheaty! I just prefer to unveil it when it is most dramatic! If you are uncomfortable facing me with this in mind, I'll fill you in via PM.

A black bloody tongue stuck out of the Hutt's massive mouth, his carnivorous eyes staring daggers into the Jedi Master's heart. Unfortunately his painting was not yet perfected, as at least one piece of the puzzle was still resistant to being fiddled with. That would change in time of course, all changed in time. Unfortunately for Mishk, being so caught up in redecorating very ragefully, he did not notice the despicable actions of this dear friend of his.

As she made her witty comment, that would mark the beginning of her next attack, the Hutt was already long at work of concocting something far more potent than simple revulsion. Despite what some might say about the Hutt, his psychopathy did not render him inert to formulating elaborate plans... at least when it came to utilizing flesh to the fullest extent of his power. While the Jedi sucked the moisture out of the blood and air, the pools of gore shifted suddenly, taking a more elaborate form than it had been previously a moment before. Formed of freezing blood, bone fragments, and meat chunks, clung together in a hob-job of a haphazard mess, a set of clumsy 'Hands' would latch to his opponent's feet just as she was freezing the flesh and focusing on her icicles to toss at the Hutt. The clenching power of these revolting abominations grasping at her heels, would only increase as the temperature dropped. More and more gore would pile onto her feet at an increasing speed, soaking it up like an awful bloody sponge on steroids. It would not be so simple a matter of breaking the gore trap as it became more frigid-like and dry, as Zambrano had enough material to work with to prevent such a thing from happening for the time being. It became like a swampy quicksand, where struggling merely hastened ones fall into it.

It was odd, in a way, that the Hutt was able to exert this much telekinetic energy into such a task... but an unspoken rule up until now, of his powers had already dictated that his telekinetic abilities were limited only to that which had blood flowing through them. With his motivation based solely upon the beautification of flesh in his own twisted vision, it should have come as no surprise that he was willing to sacrifice pain unto himself to accomplish a task that could have been completed more simply by any other means.

He might have said something witty in retort to her earlier comment, but his fragile mind was already too hard at work to sacrifice a single thought to his opponent that did not include molding gore around her form. Besides, the joke clearly went over his head. Slowly, ignoring the frostbite and other ailments clearly taking over his blistering wound filled rotten flesh, the Hutt drove his Hover Throne closer to the Jedi, intently focusing on the task at hand, before unleashing yet another swing of his whip... less guided than last time, with less speed, considering his current focus. He was to whip her thighs this time, now that it would seem she would have difficulty mobilizing away from his strike... though she held with her, a lightsaber, so it wasn't much of a threat.

If her goal however, was to keep range on the Hutt, he would make sure to make her as still as stone, and solitary as a mountain... then he would climb her delectable body, and desecrate... Every. Square. Inch.

 

[Valiens Nantaris]

Objective: Celebrate and pretend this was the plan!
Ally: [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]
Corpse: [member="Darth Atrophia"]

Nantaris' rage had carried him forward, and the Sith fell before him, slicing at his wrist. It was all he could do to keep his momentum going so her blade sliced through his cloak and he landed in an undignified heap on the sand.
Scrambling up he saw the woman suffer from Siobhan, then advance, blade out. Then, before contact, she fell to the ground, and at last was still.

Valiens Nantaris just stood there dumbfounded. This had to be a trick, right? Sith Lords didn't just keel over. I mean, sure, Siobhan's techniques had torn her apart, and this hurt her, but he'd seen Sith Lords get up from worse.
Moving forward gingerly, he prodded the Sith Lord with his lightsabre, the tip burning her arm. Can one call a shot on a corpse? Probably.
The Sith Lord didn't spring to life again, so Nantaris prodded the body with his foot so Atrophia lay facing up.

Holding the blade facing down, he drove it right into the woman's chest, into her heart. One couldn't be too careful, especially with the many and various esoteric uses of the Force out there.
Calling on the Force he took the Sith Lord's lightsabre and hung it beside his own when he replaced it on his belt.
"Well...that was...brief," he said to Siobhan. He couldn't believe it. He'd killed a Sith Lord! Well...he'd...well he'd been present when a Sith Lord died but details, details! "So...what now?"

 

[Kana Truden]

Objective: A
Location: Outside the walls.
Allies: [member="Khaleel Malvern"]
Enemies: [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Connor Harrison"]
Gear:

• 
  Lightsaber (Blue)
  
• 
  Lumen Mk. I (Concealed)
  

The figure in the distance ignited their saber and there was little Kana could do but mimic them. The orange blade became her beacon just like the blue superheated blade coming from Kana became the stranger’s. The target had been set, at least as far as Kana was concerned. Though the closer she got the clearer it got just who she was dealing with.

Connor Harrison.

She masked her surprise. This man could have identified her if not for her disguise. Had she been more reckless she could have blown the entire cover she built on Ord Mirit. Being MIA, most likely locked up in a dungeon somewhere. It was convenient, a lie that could keep her from the bad graces of the Order and the Council for at least a bit further. There was no need to blow it just yet.

The woman’s push to the ground was dispelled by Khaleel and all Kana could do was raise her saber by her side in preparation for her attack. She didn’t speak, she didn’t do anything until the exact moment when it was time to go low in a sweep for the other woman’s legs looking to incapacitate her from the very start.

Or well, you know, try to at the very least. Killing them served Kana no purpose.

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

Objective: Still WIP
Ally: [member="Valiens Nantaris"]
Enemies: RIP [member="Darth Atrophia"]


Siobhan had been reaching out once again with the power of her mind as the Sith Lord once again advanced upon Nantaris like a storm of the force, her aura a miasma of anger, pain and hatred. Her rage was as boiling as lava, then suddenly and without warning she went down.


Beneath the T-shaped visor of her helmet Siobhan looked perplexed at this turn of events. Suspicion crept up inside her mind, wondering whether this was a trick. In the light of the fact that Siobhan was rather...intimate with a certain short stack of fire who was a very talented mentalist, she wondered whether their opponent might have been an illusion, meaning that the real one was still out there and might have either snuck past them or be about to launch an attack.


Then she dismissed that claim. She gave Nantaris a nod when he drove his blade through the woman's heart. Oh, and apparently he had looted her corpse and taken her sabre. In her younger days Siobhan would have said something like 'that still counts as my kill' or 'she went down fast', but she was older and...wiser now? Well, wiser was debatable, but certainly less frivolous and less inclined to treat battle like a game. She spared the dead Sith a glance before turning away, feeling nothing. "I suppose we...," however whatever she might have said was interrupted when she suddenly received a call on her comm. Her caller? The nameless NPC offier from earlier.


"Lady Kerrigan, Master Nantaris, what is the status of your duel? We must keep score."
"A Sith Master is dead," Siobhan responded gruffly, feeling a bit annoyed.
"Good. Now please proceed to the next quadrant and find a new duel. This invasion is not over yet."
"Can't we use this time to call in an artillery strike? Why aren't the couple thousand soldiers in this base doing anything? I sold you bolters!"
"As was already said very clearly, armies are background noise. This ain't Roche. Besides, all our defences have already been bypassed. This invasion will be decided by duels."
"Oh..just, sod off," Siobhan grunted with clear annoyance and, with a most unlady-like Eldarai curse on her lips, cut the connection.

 

[Kuryr]

Objective: A
Location: the Citadel
Allies: Someone I suppose
Enemies: [member="Chastity Lunelle"] (claimed and soon to be collared)
Gear: Whip[SIZE=9.33333333333333px] [/SIZE]Sword[SIZE=9.33333333333333px] [/SIZE]Pistol[SIZE=9.33333333333333px] [/SIZE]Armor

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]She was still trying to fight, her will to survive had impressed him, and while she was annoyance, he did respect her. That didn't mean he didn't enjoy her cries of pain as the whip lashed out at her. He could feel her despair, she was losing hope, she had no where to run. He could see in her movements that the pain from damage he had inflicted was slowing her down. He watched at his whip singed against her armor, the pain had to be excruciating and he couldn't help but smile. His face was a ragged bloody wreck, blood still seeped from his nose, covering the bottom half of his face, his toothy smile a horror story of blood covered teeth. He had won the fight, the girl on the floor had just not realized it yet, he could see the exhaustion on her face as she lay there in pain. He raised her lightsaber above his head, the least he could do was to give her a good death.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]He felt her gathering the force again and he chuckled, she was still trying to fight, a quality that impressed him to no end, but it was going to be for naught when he brought the weapon down and severed her head from her shoulders. His strike was interrupted by the attack she had summoned, hitting him just off center of his chest plate, he was thrown back across the room, hitting the floor hard and sliding almost the same distance that he was thrown. He gasped for air, he could feel the pain blossoming in his chest from the force of the attack. His back was on fire as well as his possibly concussed head. Fresh spots filled his vision, and he struggled to remain conscious. His breathing was labored and his side hurt every time he took a breath, signaling to him that he had at least one broken rib.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]He wanted to just lay there, his whole body ached and he was still seeing spots, but there was a rage building inside of him. With every breath he could feel it building, growing, the pain was nothing compared to the punishment he would inflict on the insignificant little feth of a whelp that was lying a few feet away. As he pushed himself to a sitting position he noticed for the first time that his whip was gone. He glanced over and saw it still wrapped around the little jedi's neck. By some miracle he still held onto her lightsaber, the irony of them switching weapons almost made him chuckle. Slowly he pushed himself to his feet, his breathing coming in ragged wheezes as he slowly made his way back towards the jedi. Even the simple task of walking was a challenge for him, he felt nauseous as he took each step, a sure sign that he had a concussion, he would not be deterred from his victory, the little jedi had proven herself worth his time after all, or perhaps he had just not been as prepared for the fight as he had thought. It didn't matter because he was the one still standing, and he was going to end this fight.[/SIZE]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

Objective: B
Location: Cliff Overlooking The Command Post
Allies: Primeval
Enemies: [member="Thessa Kai"] | [member="Judah Dashiell"]
Gear: Rifle, Armor, Blaster, Blaster 2, Beskar Knife

"Kark kark kark." Kiran repeated the word over and over again as he saw what was heading towards him. He had struck one of the fighters, and in that moment he had felt a moment of elation that was almost indescribable. That moment however had quickly passed as he had seen what was coming towards him. The fighter had managed to fire off not one, but two proton torpedoes.

Kiran was no fighter pilot, heck he was barely able to pilot a speeder, but he knew what those torpedoes could do, and he knew that he was not a tank.

Letting out a scream, and leaving his rifle behind, Kiran began to roll down the mountainside.

He didn't much care what he would find at the bottom, he didn't much care about what was in his way, but as the two massive explosions set off behind him he could feel heat and shrapnel pressing against him. Fired and a wave of pressure ejected him down the mountainside, sending him tumbling head over heels until he eventually landed on a tree with a loud crack breaking the wood in half.

 

[Isabella Denko]

Objective: A
Location: Outside the Temple
Allies: The Primeval
Enemies: Silver Sanctum Coalition ([member="Arrbi Betna"])
Weapons: Good Looks, Charisma, Spells and a blaster

This being Isabella's first battle she was learning quite a bit of very useful information. One thing she knew now was that she ought not shy away from extra defense classes or training. They were just as important as the books that she so dearly loved and read as often as she could. The young girl was now quite glad that she had been forced to take basic training and defense classes as well as the fact that she had actually paid attention in them. Her skills, or lack thereof, were about to pay off.

She was fearful but standing her ground had to account for something. Taking a deep breath she looked back to her opponent. If Isabella was going to do this, she needed to be at the very least confident in herself to get out of this alive and wound him in the process. As he took another step forward Izzy took another breath as she awaited his counter attack. The rocks had paused him for a brief moment but as she figured were not enough to completely stop him. Izzy hadn't expected they would but there was more where that came from.

As the big Mando fella broke out in sprint Izzy took a few more steps backward before mummering the spell once again to bring up three rocks this time which whizzed themselves at him. The young witch didn't stop at that as she cast her spell again this time bringing up a small tree branch and a larger one. Grabbing the larger one that she planned to use as a weapon she watched the smaller one go in his direction.

 

[Ordo]

Objective: Avoid lightning shooting bacon. (B)
Location: Somewhere inside the Orbital Defense Station
Allies: Me
Enemies: [member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Catalys Maijora"]
Gear: Lightsaber, stubbornness, mythosaur axe (its a thing) Armor and stuff.

Ordo looked to his side as a second nefarious being fired his weapons too soon and too loudly. Premature discharge of a unit was a common problem he was told and he would be loath to poke fun at such a circumstance, absolutely loath to poke fun....really. He used his heads up display to mark the second being as a direct combatant but didn't attack him yet. Why do you ask? Well that is an excellent question. The answer is because seeing a being whose nearest relative in the animal kingdom was a roba, now covered in some sort of self important amalgamation that didn't get the job done quite fast enough for an old Mandalorian was as funny as that one time he blood trailed Anaya, so he quite deliberately laughed out loud.

The rolling, jigging mass of displeasure that was the sith lord turn shades of colors that could only be achieved by pushing mass quantities of blood through layers and layers...and layers of corpulent blubber. In retrospect had Ordo been a scientist it would have been fascinating, but he was not a scientist, he was a farmer, and his first thought was...."that's a metric ton of bacon".

He saw the hand lift and knew there was a coming attack. He heard the roar of something about peanuts and nair, whatever that was, but he was still stifling a chuckle when the sith lightning exploded from the being. Now [member="Darth Vornskr"] had nearly fried him to death once and as Ordo did not enjoy that he had built his armor to take a heavy charge and not fry the man within. It was a smart choice, but one thing that is seldom noted about lightning is that it super heats the air as it strikes, sith lightning of this magnitude was no exception. The magnificent discharge of power packed more than just electrical power but also vast kinetic energy and simply put it was gonna leave a mark.

The viridian blast collided with Ordo in mid chuckle and sent him back with enough velocity to make the air whistle of his armor and embedded him eight centimeters in the bulkhead. His HUD frazzled leaving only his visor for vision as he slowly tested his limbs and muscles feeling for breaks before he pressed with his hands and heels to pop himself out of the durasteel wall.

He stumbled a few steps and stood upright visibly stretching a now aching back as he looked across the room at the rotund being. He had all but forgotten the premature firing from earlier. He was going to have to rethink his strategy. Hmmmm. What to do?

"Hey fatty," he boomed, his voice like stones in a dryer, "was that the best you could do?"

Good one Ordo. Got him right where you want him.

 

[Blackthorne]

Objective: A
Location: Outside the Walls
Allies: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]
Enemies: [member="Nima Tann"]

A quiet mind amidst the turbulent forces of chaos, Loxa reached out to the energies surrounding her and began to weave her web of control. This was a quick process used time and again just before the actions of battle. Some might relate it to Battle Mind, but Loxa was not predicting nor seeing the futures of her foes - she was simply feeling all manner of changes within the Force, no matter how minute.

So it came to be that the Jedi would wait no longer now that the tides had flooded in. The Priestess need not hear her battle cry to sense her approach as well as that of the strange wolf. There was time yet, short time, but enough to conjure a defensive measure. With the Host Lord still meditating on her own magic it was up to her to keep the woman safe.

Loxa lifted her free hand and reached out to the metaphysical webbing of connection - there followed a great surge of power as she raised her Phrik Staff and then quickly tamped its base into the ground. A massive wall of Force Push blasted out around the witches, radiating from them in a circle in an attempt to repel both Jedi and wolf.

 

[Kha'ro Ottosuki]

Objective: A
Location: At the citadel
Allies: Silver Sanctum.
Enemies: The primeval, [member="Vengeance"]
Gear: Blue lightsabers.
Jedi robes.

Kha'ro would put a lightsaber in the way of his opponent's lightning just in the nick of time. He would take a step back, then advance. He would use the force to pull the remaining younglings back behind him. Losing his concentration, Kha'ro would grunt as his body started to hurt all over. He had been hit by the lightning.

He wouldn't be able to stop it now, so he did something else. He clasped his hands, and began meditating. The pain stopped as he left the real world and entered the vast galaxy of the force. He would use it to live, eat it, drink it. He would harvest it like a farmer. He would gather it all and absorb it. Still able not to let any emotions through, he would really just be standing there, being zapped.

All of a sudden, Kha'ro opened his eyes and put his hands in the way of the lightning. He would be sweating with effort and screaming with pain but he would keep the pain to his hands. He pushed forward, further and further; then, he stopped... He wasn't trying to reach his enemy, he stood quite a few meters away and grinned a grin that said 'that all ya got?'.

He would yell in effort as he released a force push. It would probably break his enemies concentration and maybe knock him to the ground. After this, Kha'ro would be panting, but grinning. He would once again call upon the force, this time to rejuvenate his stamina. He had one thing going for him, he could take a lot before giving up.

 

[Darth Voracitos]

Objective: Stomping land maggots (B)
Location: Inside the Orbital Defense Center... on the ground, apparently.
Allies: The Primeval, I suppose. Hmm, who is that I sense? Might be nothing... oh, I don't know him. Whatever, he's gone.
Enemies: Land maggots, like this one in front of me ([member="Ordo"])
Gear: You think me base? I've nothing but myself and what mass is held behind these violet robes.
(Hover Throne and lightsaber)

His face still contorted in that angry pouty face as he glared at the steam coming off of the Mandalorian, as he dared to pull himself out of that Ordo-shaped dent in the wall. Softly growling, his eyes narrowed in disappointed rage. It would seem that he needed to do a bit of self-training again... a bit more practice. Since dying for a couple of years and coming back, Ordo distinctly did not look like bacon.

That was a low powered bolt for him, and he distinctly remembered having the raw emotion to turn him into biscuits.

Voracitos saw no biscuits.

This was infuriating of course, but it probably meant he was just working off of an empty stomach. Luckily, the corpulent man knew just the solution for such a dilemma, and this man was beginning to tempt him to use such a solution. With a wolfish grin, he laughed sardonically in a light tone.

"Don't tempt me boy," Suddenly his head moved to one side, and sickening pops could be heard as deep within his fatty folds, bones cracked under the force of the muscles that were hiding underneath his skin. Then the other way, in an equally disgusting display of... something or other. His hands stretched, cracking each others knuckles as the Dark Lord presumably got ready to do whatever it was he was preparing to do.

"I'll eat you." That immensely large face grinned with a smile that told you, and made you believe, he meant it in the very literal sense that he was going to swallow Ordo whole if he got the chance to grab him. This was probably untrue of course, and probably not physically possible... though his unique proportions might possibly allow it given his... appetite.

The fat man's Throne whirred and groaned as it was commanded forward towards the steaming Mandalorian. Wasn't there another here? It didn't really matter, it would only serve to make Ordo's experience all the more displeasurable. There were at least three things to which Voracitos was typically famous for:

• His immense size
• His incredible mental willpower
• His lordship over Area of Effect

It had been a long time criticism in the thoughts of the enemies that survived Voracitos, that while his displays in the force of such great magnitude were extremely impressive, and appeared to hold a great deal of power with the ability to command any room he was present in... it wasn't terribly efficient. Diluting all of that power to focus on over a dozen individuals at any show of force, significantly drained the power he held when he attempted to use such power to target a single individual at the same time.

For instance, when he tested Ashin Varanin for her place as Empress, Voracitos had become a literal monster that drained, and plagued, and deteriorated everything in the room around him as a means to combat her... but with her superior understanding of energy, she realized that if he hadn't been focusing on draining everyone in the room, he might have overpowered her with the drain alone. The outcome of that battle though was melodramatic, as his last and final outcome in his bid to defeat her, was thwarted by her ability to simply return the energy he had ineffectively stolen to those present within the Throne Room.

This though, was not the Throne Room. There were no other people to take the brunt of his brutish assault other than Ordo. Nothing to protect him. He was alone.

With that in mind however, Voracitos had a funny habit of toying with his food first, and although full of displeasure with a touch of rage, he had no real motivation to devour him quite yet. He had not yet been elevated to a status he recognized as anything significant enough to waste his time trying to eat.

So... he was going to turn him into a shish-kabob.

Another flash of crimson shot out of his violet robes, heading like a needle, to puncture through his gut.