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

[Ellie Mors]

Objective: B (Bedridden)
Location: Oubliette, Off-World
Allies: None
Enemies: Solitude
Gear: Dreams
Theme: The Blues

Spoiler

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bhS7y1iusRw[/media]

Is this what they call freedom; Is this what you call pain?​

Is this what they call discontented fame?​

There is no greater agony that to simply not. To be a mingling consciousness, detached from physical being, unable to see, unable to hear, only to remotely understand - to be linked emotionally to the world beyond. Unable to cry, to shout, to scream, and locked in a solitude of one's own making. A cage would be better, would be more humane, but to reside in stasis is to be damned to a hellish 'life'. There are no breaths to be taken, no pulse to be read, even the force shies from the desperate plea for escape. Do I touch the walls of my confinement, do I exist? How can I know if I am if I cannot? Why do I feel this pain shooting through every synapse, when I cannot touch, when I cannot move, when my life hangs forever on pause. This disgusting galaxy, this rotten world, this accursed life, am I to be lost to the galaxy, to time, forever, to be caged like some ancient beast forever, never to scream, to smile, to cry again? Even as I wonder if time has eroded beyond comprehension, as I doubt if another ten millennia have passed me by, I see only her face, only those eyes that pulled me in - [member="Corvus Raaf"]. In those last few moments I callously cut the cord, ripped my ties to the outside to escape that rotting corpse that still walked, but still I can feel the knotting in my chest, the churning of my insides, as that body lies in the icy fields to be discovered by a woman who knows nothing of me, who does not understand what it was she believed she loved. Can I love? Can I truly say I felt a thing for a woman that I have never met, personally? My reach is far, my foresight farther, but now I am blind, lost, and neither warm nor cold. The ultimate fate, the life of eternal slumber, unable to wake. But I know she is with her, with that thrall of a body. With Silara.

Is it possible to envy the dead, is it right? When they are free to leave behind their sacks of flesh to depart from this hate-filled life and escape from the woes of reality, am I truly lucky? To be trapped here, disembodied and alone? What greater pain is there to know that you will outlive everyone you ever knew, all you ever loved, to never see the smiling faces, the tears rolling from their cheeks as you near that inevitable end, but what is time to a god? What is more horrible than to know that the universe will end and you will have never once been remembered, that you will die alone and forgotten, dead even in their memories.

But with great effort I can pierce this shade, feel what it is that lingers by what I have touched, and what I feel - what I know - is unbearable. The head that had, for a moment, been mine was laid across that Jedi's lap, eyes sightless, ears deaf, and a hole where that black, bleeding, heart had been. And it was cold. The confusion, the fear, all of Corvus' pain, all of her anger, her sadness, it flooded my being - my soul. And what of I? What could I even do!? What can I do! I want to scream, to relieve myself of this crushing weight, this regret, but I cannot! This frustration is impossible to swallow, so cruel and unending that it simply stirs, marinating in my own unease until at last I lose my mind once more. Will I ever be free, free to see, to scream, to throw my fists against the wall, to stare into those piercing eyes? What use is this power, the gift of the source - this thing they call the force - if I cannot use it? How cruel of a deity must one be to give pain of all the galaxy's sadness and then to never be able to let it out? Had she truly been so cruel, so evil, that her punishment must be to wallow eternally in this confinement, to tempt from beyond the world of the living and the dead, to wish only to cry out, to plea for mercy, for death, and to be denied it so many times? One simple request of the Jedi master, to spare her this misery, but she refused her, she condemned her to further watch, to feel every last ounce of this searing pain and remain unable to do anything about it.

Am I alive, am I even here? Does it even matter anymore? Why? How? WHY DOES IT EVEN MATTER!?

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybq_waDfyDI​

Objective: A; leading the defense of the Sith Citadel.
Location: Atop the crumbled walls.
Allies: Silver Sanctum Coalition
Enemies: The Primeval | [member="Darth Vornskr"]
Gear: Armour | Sword | Lightsaber

Surrounding them was death, blood and tears. While Kaine would surely feast on such overwhelming negativity, Thurion had to block such strong emotions from seeping into his mind. He had to focus on the Sith Lord currently trying to kill him. When this was all over he would shed tears for the loss of life, but not before then. Both their bodies had been sapped of much of their energy from prolonged fighting, with both parties having traded blows equally throughout. A decisive outcome was impossible at this point, and should they carry on like this then before long both would just slump to the ground from fatigue.

Then suddenly Kaine gained the upper hand for a moment by knocking Thurion's saber out of his hands, effectively disarming him. What happened next was too fast to comprehend. Kaine spun around, delivering a powerful kick aimed at his face. Acting on instinct, Thurion ducked under the kick and reached for Kaine's outstretched leg with both hands, grabbing hold of it. Using his momentum, he then spun around himself to make the Sith Lord crash into a nearby wall, all while making sure to avoid any flailing of lightsabers. Still clutching onto his leg, Thurion looked into Kaine's eyes as he spoke. "This is for Asha!"

Raising one of his arms while still holding onto his leg with the other, using all his strength he brought his elbow down on Kaine's kneecap in an attempt to shatter the bone.

 

[Kha'ro Ottosuki]

Objective: A
Location: Citadel
Allies: Silver Sanctum
Enemies: [member="Vengeance"]
Gear: Jedi robe. 2 blue sabers


Kha'ro was all out now. He would run at his overconfident opponent, able to block lightning with his sabers. One jolt would hit him, but he didn't care, he would get a bad burn, but he could take it. With all the lightning pulsing on his blades, there would be arcs of it going out towards the sith as Kha'ro would go for a flurry. He would swing once at the enemies head, then the body, then the arm, then he would attempt a fast stab with both sabers.

 

[Jsc]

Obj: B
Location: ODCC
Allies: 0
Vs: [member="Condor"] [member="Catalys Maijora"] p13 - End - Draw

The battle was well on it's way to a conclusion now. A statement Robert's could not say the same for about her duels. Alas, as the building thundered around her, she finished the strange repairs to her helm. Tapping the backplate closed with duck tape and smiling at the fit.

"Well. It's not pretty. But it will have to do."

The blue-haired warrior slipped back on her helm and clutched her carbine close to her chest. Ready once again to dart back the stairs and give chase to her foes. When suddenly her helm gave a shrill beeping. Oh? Maybe it wasn't as broken as she had supposed?

~ / Roberts! There you are. Sorry about that. We got caught up in the rooftops. How you doing? ~

"Still breathing. How's the objective?"

~ / Last day to make a difference girl. Plenty of blood still flying about. ~

"Ha. I'll pass on the blood, thank you very much. Don't think I have time to finish these two off though? Suggestions."

~ / We're resupplying right above you. Leave those birds and we'll come pick you up. We'll let the Navy finish the job come sundown. Nice work. ~

"Heh. Good enough for me. I was getting sick of this frozen wasteland anyway. I'm coming up to ya. And tell your pilot to try not to blast me when I exit the stairwell, yeah?"

~ / Ha. It wouldn't kill ya anyways. ...I'll have some coffee ready for ya when you arrive Blue. Cheers. ~

"Tea would be just fine. ...Though. I think I'll settle for some water and an IV at this point. See you soon Silver. Escort out."

Roberts smiled to herself and eyed the stairs. Welp. Time to call it a day then. Another completely successful Invasion ...Erm. Xplode-everything thread. Yeah. Guess she'd call this one a draw.

___

*exit

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

Location: Inside Citadel. Somewhere.
Objective: Presumably hit things in the aforementioned Citadel.
Allies: [member="Valiens Nantaris"]
Enemies: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]
Gear: 1x MKI bolter, 1x bolt pistol, 1x sonic shotgun, wrist-worn flamethrower, vibroknife, grenades, lightsabre, beskar'gam


Had Siobhan been younger she would have simply charged after the witch after the telekinetic explosion conveniently provided her with an entrance into the fortress. That would have probably looked cool but not been very smart. Instead she took a breath and tried to centre herself. Admittedly this probably gave the witch the chance to lay her illusionary proximity mines. Quite a hole had been blown into the fortress and so after a few moments Siobhan followed her, gliding across the snowy ground before dropping down.


She passed the rubble and debris, but it did not take long for it to become apparent that she had crossed an invisible line. Since this writer was not told what illusions to expect, beyond them being easily subdued and not that complex, they will have to improvise! Her Force senses tingled when she suddenly came across what seemed to be a terrified looking Jedi, wearing traditional but slightly scorched robes and looking like he had been injured. "Master Kerrigan, come quickly! The Grand Master is dead! The Sith have murdered him!" he cried out dramatically. That illusion did make sort of sense, theoretically, but it was war, people died. The Butcher of Roche was used to that. The ground beneath her began to shake, as if it had been hit by quakes. Curious, it had all looked stable a moment ago. Her suspicions were increased. Maybe this was more mental trickery.


In the same moment the Countess heard a painful, loud ringing assault her ears, abusing her hearing. Her senses prickled, then suddenly a large nexu came charging and pounced at her. That made her suspicious. The impact managed to knock her down and tore at her with its claws. Reflexively she grabbed its head and snapped its neck. The feline creature suddenly flickered and then dissipated. Oh, right, you're not real. I guess you aren't either, Siobhan thought to herself when more creatures charged at her as she got up.


A nexu viciously bit and tore at her beskar-covered hand, but Siobhan plain and simply ignored it. In a way, placing all the 'proximty mines' so close to one another had not been a good idea because once Siobhan had figured out they were not real, she was not going to fall for the rest. Throw in the fact that they were not that complex, and they did not slow her down much. Out of the ether came a voice, born out of malice and darkness. Visions of power and glory assaulted her mind, being blocked by her mental walls. 'Primeval will prevail. The fall of the Silver Jedi is inevitable. They will turn on you because you're a darksider. Embrace your destiny and join...'


Siobhan had been possessed enough times by ancient Sith spirits to know that listening to disembodied voices was a very silly thing to do.'Piss off, I don't randomly defect for no reason because a Sith offers me candy,' she thought to herself. Her eyes were wells of blackness as she pushed out the mental influence. Gathering her power in an act of will, she pressed on with a slight limp, spying the sorceress in the distance and coming to a halt. Siobhan could obviously not estimate how many 'hit points' or 'Force points' her opponent still had. But the witch had spent most of the fight on the defensive trying to block Sio's telekinetic battering ramming, on top of having just fought a duel. Obviously Sio's energy levels had been significantly depleted and she would be working on reserve, but she was used to that and had not been the one defending herself against heavy hits.


In any case, it was time to be a Dark Phoenix ripoff again. Despite the cold, beads of sweat dripped down her face and back, as she did as before, summoning a massive telekinetic wave that swept towards her enemy, a tidal wave of power and aggression. The air twisted into strange shapes, the ground, the walls and the ceiling shook under the enormous pressure generated by her power, as if they had been struck by quakes. Her intent being quite simple: Throw her into a wall and bury her under the roof above her when it collapsed under the impact of the Force explosion. The structure was old and sturdy, but still ancient and she had torn holes through battleships. The mental trickery had heightened her rage and now she lashed out as power rippled through her.

 

[Kenrath]

Objective: A
Location: Citadel
Allies: [member="Hades Michae"]
Enemies: [member="Kha'ro"]
Gear: Standard Robe and red blade saber

Vengeance laughed as the poor fool charged him. He hadn't realized he was fighting the living embodiment of a Rancor. To take so many hits and show no damage didn't seem possible. Vengeance took a measured step back bring his saber up to block the first swing at his head, sliding across to block the second taking another step back. Vengeance side stepped the third remaining calm in his motions. As the two stabs shot out Vengeance twirled ducking low in a complete 360 slashing out at the Padawan's abdomen before standing back up his leg shot out to kick the backs on both knees on his opponent his saber hand coming up over the Padawan's arms in an attempt to smash into the man's chest with the hilt. The intent simply to first try and cut the man in half or if that failed to him put him flat on his back.

Vengeance was done talking. Not a single word would be uttered until one of them was no longer able to fight.

 

[Corvus Raaf]

Objective: B (B is for [member=Braith])
Location: A last resting place
Allies: Hope once more
Enemies: The inevitable truth yet again

Spoiler

Not a cover you’ll probably recognise…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L4Ed2_bfnFo

Spoiler

‘Clock strikes upon the hour
And the sun begins to fade
Still enough time to figure out
How to chase my blues away
I've done alright up 'til now
It's the light of day that shows me how
When the night falls
Loneliness calls

Oh! I wanna dance with somebody
Wanna feel the heat with somebody
Yeah! I wanna dance with somebody
With somebody who loves me

I've been in love and lost my senses
Spinning through the town
Sooner or later the fever ends
And I wind up feeling down
I need a woman who'll take a chance
On a love that burns hot enough to last
When the night falls
My lonely heart calls

Ooh! I wanna dance with somebody
Wanna feel the heat with somebody
Yeah! I wanna dance with somebody
With somebody who loves me.’

Finally Corvus stood and carried the body to her Jedi Corvette. She knew where she must go. And she paid her cantankerous protocol droid no heed as he approached her and even he must have realised this was not the time for sarcasm for he left her alone.

So Corvus lay Silara’s body gently on the bed in her cabin and went to the cockpit of Raven and punched in the coordinates. The journey was a blur, one moment she was entering hyperspace and the next the Demon Moon was in her sights. She headed for the one place in her mind she could take Silara that was both fitting and safe.

Once her ship put down, she fetched Silara’s body and cradling it in her arms, exited the ship and into a small clearing in the forest in which no vegetation grew. The only feature was an irregular pyramid of flat, grey metal that rose up to a height of twenty meters from the heart of the glade.

The ground ahead was nothing but dirt and mud; no living organism could nourish in the shadow of Nadd's crypt. Even the plants and trees bordering the clearing were stunted and deformed, corrupted by the Dark-side power that clung to the remains of that great Sith Master in death. This may be a moon of a Republic planet but this place was decidedly Dark-sided. The tomb itself was a disconcerting shape; the walls of the pyramid were set at odd and jarring angles, as if the stone of the crypt had been warped and twisted over the centuries.

She’d been here before – but had never entered the crypt.

There was a single entrance to the structure, a door that had once been sealed but looked as if it had been smashed open eons earlier by someone seeking the secrets of Nadd's final resting place. She imagined the ghostly figure of Kaan standing by the entrance, beckoning to her before disappearing inside.

She shook her head and walked forwards. Inside the crypt was pitch-black, as if even light itself was forbidden from entering. She closed her eyes and used Force Sight. It was harder than usual, given the cloying nature of the Dark-side of the Force here.

The ceiling inside the pyramid was low, and she had to duck as she went in. She found herself inside a small antechamber, with passages leading off in three different directions. Choosing the one on the left, she knew where to go. The journals she’d read were quite specific.

Finally, after a little trial and error, she reached an apparently insignificant chamber, almost buried at the very heart of the temple. This was the one. A stone block covered a small doorway carved in the back wall. The door was only a meter high, and was blocked by a tightly fitted slab of black stone. She knew she didn’t have much time and using her years of practice in lifting the Muntuur stones, she moved it aside. It took a lot of effort but she managed to create a large enough space to walk into the room. She was sweating from her exertion.

The room beyond was dark, but with her Force Sight, she could see – and she saw what she was expecting. A circular, high-ceilinged chamber about five meters in diameter. A stone pedestal stood in the very centre. It was, as expected, empty.

Crouching down, she gently lay Silara’s body on the ground. As she predicted, she sensed movement, as if a carpet of living creatures was crawling across the surface above her head.

A colony of strange crustaceans were clinging to the roof. They were almost flat, and somewhat oval in shape – a circular shell that tapered to a point near either end. They varied in size from slightly smaller than a fist to as broad across as a large dinner plate, and their colouring ranged from bronze to a reddish gold. The slurping came as they dragged themselves along the ceiling, crawling over one another and leaving glistening trails of slime in their wake.

As she studied them, one of the creatures fell away from the others and dropped down onto Silara. A second later another broke free and tumbled down.

“Goodbye, my love,” Corvus said and ran for the door. As she did, a large portion of the colony of crustaceans broke free en masse and cascaded down in a chitinous swarm.

The rest of the creatures were now mobile, clacking and clattering as they struck the floor of the room. Corvus dropped to her knees and scampered through the cramped opening and back into the small room from which she had originally entered.

She reached out with the Force and hoisted the stone block up into the air. Her powers seemed enhanced by a desperate urgency, and the block moved easily for her this time, to plug the entrance before any of the strange crustaceans could scuttle out after her.

For a few seconds she just lay there panting. She could hear the rest of the colony on the other side of the wall, the wet gurgles of their grasping mouths mingling with the sharp clacking of their hard shells as they crawled up the walls back to their roosts on the ceiling. If there was a safer place to put Silara, to ensure her body was not defiled any further, Corvus didn’t know of it. These orbalisks would drive any would-be tomb-robber away, even if someone were able to find the room, and then open the stone door. And it was fitting for a Sith Lord to rest here. The crypt of a former Jedi that apprenticed to Naga Sadow and became one of the most formidable Sith in history. Here, Bane found his holocron and learned so much that would inform the generations of the Rule of Two to come. His apprentice, Zannah, would benefit from Nadd’s teachings of Sith Magic – again fitting given what Corvus knew of Silara’s prowess with sorcery.

Finally she walked back to her ship. It was a purposefully long and slow walk, for once she boarded her vessel, she knew she wouldn’t be coming back. As she walked, she reflected on the one clue she had as to what had happened to her – and to Silara.

Braith.

Ossus would have been her next stop anyway, but with her need for information, she knew she’d be spending the foreseeable future in the Archives. But this was no simple desire for knowledge as it would have been every other time she’d pull 72-hour shifts in the library, researching.

This time it was personal.

This time...it was for love.

 

[Kana Truden]

Objective: A
Location: Outside the walls.
Allies: None.
Enemies: [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Connor Harrison"]
Gear:

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

Everything went so well. Kana was choking her target, draining her injured target of the last few strands of energy that she still had. At least, so she thought. The attack did nothing, almost as if her entire attack had been dispelled before it began. Kana would have let out a huff in disappointment had it not been for the added weight of a man charging right at her. She fell flat on her stomach. Her saber extinguished and with it Kana swung her elbow as well as her torso around in an attempt to prevent the man from putting her in any restrictive hold.

She got onto her back. Her eyes locked into the brown hues of his as they both struggled to gain control. Her teeth were gritting, her temper on fire and for the tiniest of moments there was that flicker, the definite moment when something took over. Her eyes blinked. Eyelids closing, she took a deep breath. The man sunk ever so low and with it Kana opened her eyes to expose what could parallel in appearance to the fire she felt in her heart.

It was just a little bit more until he was in range. Kana refused to stop staring into the man’s eyes. She was furious, he was in her way and behind him was that one thing Kana needed. Freedom.

Then eventually he was in range. Kana’s mouth opened. Her head fired up at the man for the faces to collide. Not in a kiss, but in a bite. Her teeth blared out at his lip to dig in deep. It was a technique she had been taught by a friend utilizing the same anger she had felt a few weeks ago on Coruscant. It was the same anger she felt when she had sent her own father flying out the window in a defenestration act that would come to shock the upscale community in his vicinity.

But the emotion was not used to ensure she got the bite in. No, it was used to send yet another man flying. After all, the true purpose of the bite was to throw him off, the push to get him off was the real strike here and the strength to it would be the real indicator of that.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Objective: A
Location: Outside of the Citadel
Allies: [member="Chastity Lunelle"] (Padawan - Captured) | [member="Keira Ticon"]
Enemies: [member="Kana Truden"]
Unique Gear: Combat Armour | Lightsaber

The girl fell, and as Connor moved to return a new hit to the chest, she moved just as fast in a return strike. She was on him, and Connor could feel her breathing hatred at him, the weight of her body pushing into his, and the teeth in her mouth biting down on his bottom lip.

You could get stabbed by a blade, shot by a blaster and crushed by a faulty cargo door, but the pain from those was over rather quick, and it was instant, followed by a natural function to blank it out. But a bite such as this into a part of the body so tender and weak, like a hit to the genitals or a stubbing of the toe, was something far worse. Connor gasped in pain, letting out a ferral roar as his hands came up to grip Kana's shoulders, the dribble of blood running down his chin as her scent mixed with his - locked in a vicious embrace.

The pain was intense, and Connor lunged his hand up to Kana's cheeks and squeezed as hard as he could, digging his fingers and nails into her flesh to rip the girl's mouth from his. Should that not work, he'd have to rip her hair back and pull that head down and hard - it was getting to the point where trying to avoid taking her life was giving her more chances to attack.

This wasn't the Kana he had once met in the company of Jedi. She was too dangerous to be left alive.

 

[Cedric Dorn]

Objective: A ; siege on the Sith Citadel.
Location: Outside The Walls
Allies: None
Enemies: @Montana
Gear: Lightsaber

There was no response this time, no words, there wasn't any need.

The Sith Lord knew he had already won this, the snapping of bone, the audible lines of pain in the boys voice, they were like sweet music to his ears. Slowly he stepped forward, power building once again. His hand twitching and then raising within a half second.

The darkside poured forth from him, pure decadent energy driven by rage and hatred. Cedric sought to obliterate the Jedi, burn him to a cinder and end his existence right then. There would be no reprieve, to assistance, there would only be a smoldering corpse, and after he was done here, he would bend the Host Lord and demand his world. Thule would be his once more.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2skAp_bRwT8[/youtube]​

​

( 4 u, [member="Snowflake"] )​

Objective: Objective A - Assault the walls of the Citadel, and reclaim it for the Sith!
Location: On the wall, trading blows
Allies: The Primeval, and anyone assaulting the Citadel
Enemies: The Silver Sanctum Coalition (Whatever the hell that is), and my best buddy, best pal [member="Thurion Heavenshield"]
Gear:

• Sith Armor
• Sith Runeblade
• Lightsaber

His disarming strike worked wonders, and he briefly watched Thurion's lightsaber tumble from his weary grip to plummet down to the courtyard below. Yet as he moved to deliver the devastating roundhouse kick to the Grandmaster's exposed face, he instead found the Jedi's iron grip wrap around his leg and heave him towards the nearby wall with near bone-crushing force, the wind knocked from his lungs as he reeled from the impact. What came next sent a tidal wave of agony spiraling up through his core as Thurion proceeded to unceremoniously shatter Kaine's kneecap, the bone exploding on impact and slicing through muscle and skin. "Grrrrrrruuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaough!" the scream of pain was involuntary, yet it was filled with the Sith Lord's hate and erupted with such sonic force it could shatter the eardrums of lesser men. Luckily Thurion was anything but a lesser men, and he would be able to weather such an assault upon his eardrums.

Sadly, for Kaine his lightsaber become lost in the debris his body made when it crushed the wall that Thurion threw him into, so in a half-a-second of blind panic he reached for anything that could be used against the Jedi holding onto his shattered leg. He found such a tool embedded in the broken wall next to him, and with a heave he tore lose a piece of rebar from the stone and proceeded to swing it with horrific accuracy towards Thurion's head. At the same time Kaine would maneuver his unshattered leg up to try and kick Thurion off his body, not unlike the same way he did previous when Thurion had him pinned and was beating on his face mercilessly. It was only fair to repay him in kind by beating him with rebar, right?

Things in the universe didn't tend to come out so equal in that regard, but Kaine didn't mind fighting absolutely dirty if it bought him a chance at victory. It was the Sith way, of course. But as Kaine unsteadily rose to his feet, the battle began to become far more turbulent all around them, and the wall became more and more unstable with each shell impact. Soon enough it would fall...

And perhaps Kaine and Thurion along with it.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective A: Still ewwwww
Location: trying not to faint from halitosis breath
Allies: Silvers
Enemies: [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] [member="Mishk"]

(OOC Note: on my phone currently so apologies if it is short and no gear links this time)

The Hutt locked blades with her again, and went to grapple her forearm with his mangled hand. She could feel the acid starting to burn through her cortosis-weave robe, which was annoying to her, and she could feel that bloody Jawa was still trying to fight by trying to give the Hutt a buff.

Then Zambrano roared in her face and she gagged at the smell. Two words: mouth wash. Dear Force that was rank. Hold on, she had an idea now.

Twirling her saber to break the blade lock, she swung one blade at his hand grappling her, this time truly aiming to remove it, but she used the Force to grapple some debris and the Jawa.

If successful on the Jawa, he would find himself flying right into his master's open mouth, if not Zambrano was about to be choking on some rock and other pointy pieces of debris regardless.

 

[Montana]

Objective: A
Location: Beyond the Walls
Allies: The Silver
Enemies: [member="Cedric Dorn"]

Gear: Lightsaber

The Jedi’s breath drew heavy. The cold Ziost air let it appear in front of him, sitting in midair like a sight aimed at his opponent. It was useless though, because there wasn’t enough power to take the shot. As of that moment there was no way through the pain, through the distractions of far off explosions and the loss of life everywhere. The only thing shielding him from the man’s dark side aura was his bronze lightsaber and even that was reduced from an extension of the Jedi to a buffer.

The darkside energy crashed against his hand, batting away and blowing up the saber from his grip. Montana would be next. Like his saber he would become a buffer, but unlike his saber he was complex. Despite his current lack of strength he remained stalwart and kept his wit and will. Working his hardest against his body he raised his left arm next to the right and reached out to the force as more of the darkside energy made it’s way to it’s target, him. He imbued his hands with his will, with the idea that his body was a shield. He let the force flow through him, through his mind, heart, and soul so it could could come out and realize his beliefs. The force was his ally and did what it could, leaving his hands, to shield him from the incinerating energy directed at him.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhh-Ahhhhhhhh!!”

Montana screamed. His palms charring even with the aid of the force. He stood struggling to maintain his focus and maintain protection. His hands reddened, letting off smoke and steam, being scarred. The plant was beginning to wilt under the pressure. And as the last of the energy faded away so did Montana into unconsciousness. His knees hit the ground and so followed the rest of his body.

BOOM!!

An explosion ignited overhead as a couple silver troopers lassoed the Jedi’s body and pulled him into the transport under the distraction. “For the Silver.” One shouted. “Save Montana.” Another said. They were crazy, and disobeyed orders for not joining the left flank, but they took care of their own even in the face of death incarnate. The Zelosian was saved and would live to fight another day, but he was also defeated. Transported off of the battlefield as a protector and survivor of Ziost.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onaF93-NpFE​

Objective: A; finishing up a most epic fight.
Location: Amongst the debris.
Allies: Silver Sanctum Coalition
Enemies: The Primeval | [member="Darth Vornskr"]
Gear: Armour | Sword | Lightsaber

The crack of Kaine's kneecap was sickening in and on itself, but it came nowhere close to the painful scream that followed. While Thurion attempted to reach for his lightsaber lying a few feet away on the ground, Kaine meanwhile reached for the nearest makeshift weapon and found it in a piece of rebar. A powerful swing to the head caught Thurion off-guard, even more so by Kaine kicking himself free of his grip using his good leg.

Pushed away and groggy as all hell, rather than re-engage Kaine right away he managed enough focus to resume his previous thought of regaining his weapons scattered about the battlefield. Both hands reached out through the Force, summoning both his Valkyri blade and his lightsaber hilt. Snowfall he returned to its sheath and was about to reignite his Jedi weapon despite the exhaustion and pain both he and Kaine had endured equally. It would've been a neverending bout had not the randomness of battle played its part.

A stray mortar shell fell from the sky and landed right between the two combatants, forcing Thurion to seek cover as best he could with what little time he had to act. He found it in a nearby pile of debris and slumped down behind it just as the shell went off. It caused a deafening boom coupled with a shockwave able to knock any man on his feet. When it was over Kaine and Thurion were separated by a huge crater. Watching Kaine from the other side of the crater, Thurion took a deep breath and clipped his lightsaber onto his belt. Out of nowhere a squad of Antarian Rangers appeared, requesting that the Grandmaster leave the area due to heavy shelling.

Thurion said nothing and just kept watching Kaine through the dust and smoke. They both knew this was not the last they'd see of each other. Sooner or later their paths would cross again, and when they did only one would come out alive. "Let's go, sergeant." He turned around a left the scene, and Kaine, behind. "Nothing but pain and death in this place."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86un0QzK_Ak[/youtube]​

Objective: Objective A - End the absolutely epic duel
Location: On the wall, trading blows
Allies: The Primeval, and anyone assaulting the Citadel
Enemies: The Silver Sanctum Coalition (Whatever the hell that is), and my best buddy, best pal [member="Thurion Heavenshield"]
Gear:

• Sith Armor
• Sith Runeblade
• Lightsaber

With even the most subtle shifting of weight to his bad leg sent a lightning bolt of pain up through him, causing him to stumble slightly as he held onto the piece of rebar he used to bash Thurion in the face as leverage to keep himself steady as he took weight off of that side. Blood had now begun to soak through the armored plating of his leg, and from his mouth and nose where Thurion had rattled loose some teeth and his jaw previously. Still, he never stopped smiling that dumb manic smile of his. Kaine was completely enthralled in the violence of the battle both between himself and Thurion and the one that raged chaotically around them both. The pain and death gave him the strength to stand up tall despite his critical injuries, and he stared dementedly at Thurion through the smog of battle as the shells continued to fall with increasing intensity all around.

Eventually one such shell came down right between the two of them, forcing Thurion to leap behind cover to escape the blast while Kaine merely called up the Dark Side and raised his right hand up with his palm jutted forward. A shimmering shield of pure energy enveloped him and a small area around him, and the fire and debris warped around the bubble to destroy everything around him while the Sith Lord remained untouched behind his conjured shield. As the fire subsided he allowed the shield to collapse, but now there was a massive gaping crater separating the two combatants, and it was abundantly clear that their feud would temporarily end.

From behind him arrived a recon squad of Blackblade Guardsman, who began to advise their commander that he needed to pull back behind the Imperial-Primeval lines as the shelling became more and more hazardous to everything on the walls of the citadel. He began to turn away from the destruction, but gave a final look at Thurion as the Jedi began to do the same. "Savor the respite, Heavenshield. Next time will be different."

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Objective: GRAAGA! (A)
Location: UUGUUGGGGGGHHAAAA MY INNARDRSAAAAAAAAGA! (Inside the citadel)
Allies: MIPHHHHHHGGAAA! :unsure: (Primeval; [member="Mishk"])
Enemies: DIUHHHHGAAAAA WHWAAAG! ([member="Taeli Raaf"])
Gear: HAHAGHAGAAAPHHHHHS, LOPHEEEEEAAHHH! :wacko:, SAAAARARRHRAGUH

Spoiler

My whip is something I've used since day one, a six five four 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. Status: Discarded


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. IT'S HERE!

"UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGAAAAHHHH!" Such was the beautiful sound, of projectile vomit. But before we get on to describing the absolute glory of expelled stomach contents into an aerial stream of revolting digestive matter hurled at the Jedi's face at point blank range, we must go into exactly what lead up to that most joyous of occasions.

However amusing and hilarious idea it would be, to send a Jawa bungey jumping into the massive chasm of an enormous gastropods digestive tract, such was simply... ill conceived. Moments after the Jedi force pushed the jawa away from her, to presumably fall behind the Hutt, she activated her spinning blades of doom which did quite exactly as they were intended. The pulsating stream of piss-colored plasma cut out momentarily as those gyrating blades repeatedly struck his away, however, just as soon as the rectum closed it opened again, and its eyes refocused the blade back into action. On the other hand (pun intended), it sliced through the mass of tendrils after the first or second rotation of the blade, leaving behind the grappling 'hand' wherever it was left previously burning through her cortosis weave. Despite being separated from his body however... the 'hand' actually functioned just find autonomously from its source, and thus it continued to grip upon the arm Jedi's arm, secreting it's acids in its attempt to digest her. Without a means to eat however, the mass of tendrils would eventually die within a week or so... however, should it manage to penetrate through the Jedi's armor and get to her flesh, it would turn into a cancerous tumour that would eventually turn into a beast of its own similar to the hands that the Hutt currently wielded. All it required was a necessary port for sustenance, just like the predecessor it was vongformed from. Technically, assuming the Hutt won, the biot could simply reclaim this missing flesh by fusing its tendrils with it... though such was probably unlikely.

At any rate, a small surge of power filled the Sith Knight from his apprentice, reducing his fatigue and pain to allow for greater agility and aggressive power both physically and in the force (some of the pain that was distracting his power, being lifted from him, allowing for slightly renewed control). As this was done though, the Jedi had other plans. She would ultimately fail in grasping the Jawa for this particular task, as even if she did grasp him, there wouldn't be nary a second to spare in Zambrano's close proximity to maneuver the mad apprentice into his jaws... the rubble she did free from solidarity however, sailed through the air aimed for his roaring gullet. Just moments before impact however.... nothing happened at all. Debris pounded upon his tongue, cutting through the soft flesh and spray blood everywhere as it tore through his taste buds and began to strike the back of his throat, issuing a hacking cough to interrupt his roar.

It didn't take long however, for that hacking cough, to suddenly, literally, erupt. In an impressive display of gag reflex, the massive chasm held away within the confines of his flesh, still had plenty of contents being digested... and all at once another hurling wave of liquid energy collided against the walls of his throat as they exploded upward in a gushing storm of vile substance. Forcing the loose object in his throat to suddenly be propelled by the liquid pressure being unleashed from within, all of the debris that had just enter his mouth and cut up his flesh, was now being immediately expelled right back at the Jedi.

He was projectile vomiting at her. Yes, this was really happening. The Hutt was, once again, going to throw up on another Jedi. Meanwhile, his lightclub-like Vongsaber upon its reactivation, would now swing for a powerful midsection sweep.

 

[Kian Karr]

Objective: B - Repel the assault
Location: Engaging the Enemy
Allies: Silver Jedi, @Jedi
Enemies: [member="Harley"], @Sith/Primeval
Gear: Jedi Shade Robes, Kian's arm guards, Kian's HUD Mask, lightsaber

Kian felt the pressure building on his sides, his breath getting even more labored. As it came and went out of his mask, he called on the force, flooding his body with its rejuvenating strength. Normally the larger Kel Dor would have easily overpowered the Sith before him. She was smaller than him, and while an admirable opponent, Kian sensed less seasoned in battle. But the girl was riding on waves of darkside rage. Kian could feel it emanating from her in pulses....like a sickness.

Then she was reaching for his lightsaber and Kian struggled against her as the blade inched toward him, as she attempted to impale him on his own blade. Kian resisted, pushing back with his strength against her and they sat there, struggling over his weapon, her knees digging more vigorously into his sides. Kian had to break the Sith girls concentration, had to overcome the rage that she was experiencing.

Then a thought occurred to Kian and he remembered a lesson given long ago by Jedi Master [member="Phylis Alince"]. Kian had always respected the knowledgeable, if quirky, Jedi Master and had accompanied her once, along with many other students, on a trip abroad. While there she had shown the students a technique known as force light. The ability was used to purge the darkside. It could be used to purge an item steeped in the darkness or to weaken the connection of those who feed off of it. Kian, realizing that in his predicament, couldn't break the darkside rage of the girl with his own strength, fell back on that training.

Lifting his free arm, Kian thrust it out toward the girl, feel the force drain from his body and rush toward the pinpoint at the end of his finger. He concentrated the bright, ambient light of his force aura on that particularly spot. From that finger tip erupted a flash of blinding, brilliant white light. The manifestation of lightside force energy blasted forth in an attempt to purge the darkness within the girl, or at least weaken it to a more manageable state. As Kian did this, he redoubled his efforts, pushing harder on his saber once more in an attempt to drive the blade away from him and back toward his attacker.

 

[Keira Priest]

Objective: A
Location: Outside the walls
Allies: [member="Connor Harrison"]
Enemies: [member="Kana Truden"]
Gear: Personal lightsaber

And the one weakness of the Jedi was exploited in mere seconds. Even with how similar Connor was to her, there was one vital difference that separated them: a willingness to take life. He could hesitate until he had a blade through his chest, but she would kill another if it was necessary or suited her goals at the time. Either he was still bent on saving her, or he hadn't quite realized that she wouldn't be turning back to the light anytime soon. Releasing a sigh, she touched on his mind once more, preferring that far more covert method of communication, "You can't just keep dancing around in circles all day. Sometimes people have to die." A fact Keira would be happy to prove.

It was frustrating to watch the two fight, simply because Connor refused to act where she would have. Certainly he was maintaining his own foothold in the clash, but it seemed that he wouldn't act out too aggressively just yet. For Force's sake, he'd had plenty of openings to simply palm his blade and end things before they had begun. The two struggled for a time, and she merely observed, approaching carefully and studying just how they moved so that she wouldn't strike out against the wrong one of the pair. Her aim was to circle about them in such a manner that she wouldn't be noticed what with the commotion of the battlefield that still surrounded the trio, unrelenting.

Cracking her neck with two turns of her head she darted forwards, regardless of whether Connor's attacks connected, extinguishing her weapon and pressing the blade emitter between the other woman's shoulder blades. Regardless of how volatile Kana was, she was counting on her instincts of self-preservation to win out over any desire to continue to fight. It would have been easy to simply ignite her saber once more and end things rather permanently, but she wasn't in the mood to spark another confrontation with Connor. So for now she would play the part of peacekeeper to a degree, settling for the mere threat of death to bring the other to a stop.

"Now come on, you're not that stupid, are you? You try anything again and you're looking at a blade through your chest. Don't go thinking I won't do it. I'm not like the Jedi you used to live among. I will kill you, and you can bet that I won't regret it later. You mean nothing." The slightest of smiles made its way to her lips, though she couldn't say for certain whether she was explicitly enjoying this sense of being in control or not. It was nice to threaten another, instead of things being the other way around, but she was attempting to, well, not be who she had been before. That bit of change would just have to wait until after this fight was finished. Then maybe she would care a little more.

 

[Mishk]

Objective A
Location inside the walls
Allies Primevil, [member="Zambrano the Hutt"]
Enemies Silver coalition, [member="Taeli Raaf"]


They made a sucking sound as the extremely thin but terrifying long worms drank the blood of the jawa and sent it forward through their pale bodies. Attaching their other end at the enourmos back of the dark hutt the feasted on layers of skin, fat and flesh before spewing the apprentice dark energy into its master.

The flow of pain between them was pulsating and dark, their utter and pure dark sided minds more and more attuned to the very soul of this ancient and unholy temple. Mishk threw his head back and laughed a hissing laughter that resembled a vipers threat to most but to those few who knew this particular jawa it was a sound of sacrifical pleasure. He was enjoying to feed his own essence to his loved master and dark god, the horrible creature that still resembled a hutt to a large degree.

It was then the silvery string reached out and pulled at him, causing him to fly forward to the place he had been thrown not long ago. His body was light but in this broken state Mishk no longer recognised his body but only the will to feed on this place darkness and continue to offer it to his struggling dark love. While her intention had been to throw him around the hutt and then into its maw the plan failed due to the intensity of the hutts attack and the fact that Zambranos mouth was faced in the other direction with the jawa thrown toward his masters back instead.

While he flew forward he slumped into [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] with a splashing sound. The soft impact mattered little to him, he grinned not really understanding or caring what had happened.

The transparent worms kept pumping his dark energies into the hutt with an alarming renewed strength as the jawa now found power in his masters close vicinity.

Spoiler

Continues to empower Zambrano. My judgement is that it would be a stronger bless this time since he was not so badly damaged this toss around.

 

[Darth Voracitos]

Objective: FEED
Location: FEED (Inside the thing)
Allies: FEED (Primeval)
Enemies: FEED ([member="Ordo"])
Gear: FEED

Voracitos didn't think his eyes could get much wider than they already were, they were wide enough in the surprise of his enemies capabilities in the force. The resilience of his opponent however, proved to be above the Dark Lords arrogant estimation of his relative importance, and did not yet comprehend the conviction he held to destroy him in the heat of combat. Not understanding the conviction of one's opponent, is often the most critical mistake any great leader can make when all of his resources are on his side.

Such was, of course, a downfall of the Obese Lord, that he had encountered many years ago at the hands of a crafty assassin during a coup against him. This though was different, he merely underestimated - quite severely - the relative worth of this Mandalorian before him, whom he saw as no different than the dirt on Junction, or the radioactive crater that used to be near Keldabe (since cleaned up of course).

So, with this incredulous surprise in mind, a tactic used against force users for ages to destroy them in the heat of battle, actually worked in this case. Despite the often super-natural claim to an ungodly amount of mastery in the force, such quick acting thoughtless maneuvers were simply unavoidable when one's focus was elsewhere.

The giant meat-cleaver like axe suddenly found itself wedged deep into the a fatty crevice it had created in Voracitos' chest, a giant spray of blood splattering his robes and the weapon itself, the sound of the impact resonating within his stomach, and issuing a blood soaked cough into the air, sending it ten feet across the room.

The oil saturated blood vessels leading to his heart suddenly expanded as blood was forcibly pushed through his ironically large heart which began to hasten its strained pumping at the beck and call of its dark Master. Adrenaline began to be pumped much in the same manner as Ordo, and something strange began to take place. It appeared as if the bloated flesh of the massive beastly man actually began to expand... muscles beneath the skin pushing upwards against the behemoth mass of fatty folds as they began to flex in rage. His already red face, began to deepen and darken as his glittering violet eyes began to blacken and become beady, his scowl becoming infinite in its unpleasantness. With a great rumbling, one hand gripped into the side of his Hover Throne, crushing it under his hand as he pushed forward, and then....

... the first foot set down.

The Throne was summarily discarded and thrown into a wall approximately 30 meters away, exploding on contact as a giant raging mass of gargantuan wriggling flesh unnaturally began to take steps towards where Ordo had fallen... axe and all. Each footfall seemed to ripple the durasteel underneath... could it actually be possible that the Master of Gluttony could have gotten even heavier? Large fat lips parted in an upwards snarl, revealing the yellowed almost carnivorous teeth locked together in a pounding rage as he stared down his prey.

No one touched me... NO ONE!

"RAAAAAWR!" An ear splitting roar blasted from his mouth as those clenched teeth shot open, revealing behind them a dozen forked tongues all competing to be the first out of the gate, as red hungering tendrils raced over each other past his teeth and across the room in their almost palpable presence, to connect with Ordo in an a hampering drain that could not be easily bested by anyone in the galaxy other than Voracitos. His natural proclivity to this naturally occurring ancient skill was near to on-par with some of its most famous practitioners.... or perhaps not, considering he is only a fat man... right?