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

[Condor]

Objective: B
Location: ODCC Mess Hall
Enemies: [member="Karen Roberts"]
Allies: None
Post: 3
________________________________________
Condor grinned wickedly as the round of shots slammed into the Jedi, spinning her around once like a ragdoll before she dropped to the ground. Maybe the Jedi were over-hyped. After all, all the Force in the galaxy wouldn't save you from a blast to the head of a virbroknife between your ribs. He had his finger on the trigger, tensed and ready to deliver the final blow, when the wall next to him exploded. Them damn rangers were firing at him! No respect for the art of the duel!

Their insult paid off, unfortunately for Condor. One bolt had hit him on the leg, slamming into his thigh. The armor could only do so much, and he grimaced as some of the bolts energy coursed through his leg, searing the flesh a little. Not a major injury, but it would be best not to lean on that leg for a while. The real problem was the bolts hitting the wall. None of them had hit him directly, but the blast had thrown a chunk of wall out and embedded it in his shoulder. He reached for it, wanting to remove it, but realized he was better of leaving it in. No bacta to be seen, and by the shape of it, he could see that pulling it out would have him bleeding out in no time. He crouched down to avoid the next round of fire, which was then returned by his own soldiers. He rotated his shoulder, noting the stiffness in it. No full range of motion in that shoulder. Lucky it wasn't stopping it completely, but if it came down to melee combat...well at that point he was already a goner.

He saw out of the corner of his eye that the Jedi master had taken cover under the kitchen counter. He couldn't fire directly at her, but she in turn was unable to hit him directly from that angle. Instead of trying to blast through the counter like an idiot, he tried a different tactic, firing at the hanging light above her. It took him a couple tries; the wound in his shoulder affected his aim somewhat, but he managed to knock out both supports, and the light dropped from the ceiling, straight at the woman below.

 

[Williamice2]

Objective: B
Location: Near the gates of ODCC
Enemies: [member="Gwrtheyrn"] Silver Jedi Order
Allies: Primeval
Gear: Theseus' Dual Lightsabers, Meditation Stones.

Theseus was... well where you'd expect Theseus to be, hidden, and remaining a quiet observer. Theseus didn't fear battle, in fact he got a certain rush from it. Though none the less certain past instances made it so Theseus preferred to rely on stealth and distance. Over that of a direct melee confrontation. Especially when the man who Theseus' was setting his eyes upon happened to be twice his size, literally. As well as weigh a substantially greater amount. Theseus wasn't intimidated as much as the fact he knew that he wasn't going to be over powering this beast anytime soon. Which meant Theseus in order to overcome his foe would have to use intelligence until a weakness of the creature became apparent. That'd be the opportunity in which Theseus would close the distance and make his strike. Until then Theseus would be trying his best to keep a safe distance and use his connection to the force and his ability to blend and his tools of destruction.

Theseus let out a high pitched whistle. Then used the force to distort the sound, it wasn't a perfect distortion. Nor, was it intended to be perfect. Though it did the trick as Theseus intended only to catch the creatures attention, and guide it towards his general direction. When it was in the distance Theseus' was wanting it to be at. Theseus would respectfully initiate the duel in a respectful manner. Before proceeding to slip back into hiding and use strike and vanish tactics, as well as force based abilities. Which would mainly consist of telekinetic abilities, and perhaps using the force to provide some physical enhancements, to prevent him at being in a major disadvantage against this creatures size.

 

[Lucianus Adair]

Objective: B
Location: Somewhere within the Orbital Defense Command Centre
Allies: The Primeval | [member="Jared Ovmar"]
Enemies: Silver Sanctum Coalition | [member="Coci Heavenshield"] and [member="Corvus Raaf"]
Gear: 2x Lightsabers | 2x Derriphan's Eye
Music: Seele Bricht

The time for seclusion and pointed selfishness was over with the hands he lent to the defense of Ord Mirit, the last act he had performed before an acquaintance, another former councilor of the Fringe Confederacy had come knocking at his door, so to speak. A time to return to roots of a sort, to do together what one could not do alone. To put together the ancient worlds of the Sith in one territory that was the fittest for fostering a resurgence of the truest to that kind, to take what was rightfully theirs, and to take the demanded pound of flesh off of those that were so foolish to sit on a well of power that could very well eat them alive for spending too long within it. Nothing of the Light could survive for long in this place, the lands being as stained with all the trappings of the Dark as they were. For his part, the palpable, thick darkness was a boon. A boon to himself and the aforementioned acquaintance - one Jared Ovmar - that had them quite well cloaked from any that might peek.

The land begins to crawl with the infection of a bevy of self-denial and high-mindedness, Ovmar, he 'said', opting not to engage in the noise of speech, as old, old training in the ways of an assassin would dictate to his conscious self, they burn so much of their personal power for the sake of the social construct of purity.

The sneer he felt was kept out of his expression while he avidly watched and 'watched' the corridor for any future corpses erring in their direction... and the rest of the compound, for the sake of being well-rounded in his information on the tide of battle. While his armaments - consisting of two daggers gifted to him by Rave Merrill, two lightsabers by way of old habit - were sufficient, he had felt an older blade creeping into his thoughts. One gifted to him by a master in his past, on the day of his very first ascension in rank. Something he had been putting a good deal of thought into hunting down, if for nothing but sentimentality.

Pray we will not be bored to death, hm?

His lips curved just enough to show a sliver of tooth.

 

[Gwrtheyrn]

Objective: B
Location: At the gates of the Orbital Defense station.
Allies: Silver Jedi Order
Enemies: Primeval (Dueling [member="Theseus Reneun"])
Gear: Ashlas Mercy - force imbued greatsword, Firbolg 700 Anti Freak Handgun

A single note amidst the pandemonium. The timbre of the noise sightly jarring against the raucous din of the battlefield. Thesus had chosen the right medium to send his message to the warrior poet, as even before the ringing echo had died the golden giant's gaze was questing for the source of the disturbance. Leading a largely subterranean existence the natives of Iego had come to know sound like few others. Having access to a wider spectrum than most Gwrtheyrn heard the distortion and realized that the call was knowingly modified.

Bringing his blade down to a ready position Gwrtheyrn strode forward to meet the challenger. The layer of snow coating the ground crushed and compacted with each footfall and the banks that had built up during the previous night reflected the resplendent radiance of the swords fire. Ten thousand stories each collected in the oral history of his people played out in Gwrtheyrn's mind. Stories of fierce clashes with hosts of Diathim raids on other clans and the truly ancient epics detailing the wars with the antediluvian titans that once strode his planet.

That nothing existed of the beasts save for towing bones and songs of heroism spoke of the tenacity and devastation that could be unleashed by the Maelibi should their blood begin to boil with the thrill of war. And this was merely the ancestral legacy of his species. The silver order also bore a vast trove of accounts detailing the long war with the shadow cults of Boga.

By combining these identities he could forge something which would allow the rest of his kind to mesh with the galaxy. What his people needed to share with the Galactic Republic was a common enemy. And Gwrtheyrn could think of no more deserving target than users of the darkside.

[member="Theseus Reneun"]

 

[Williamice2]

Objective: B
Location: Near Gates of ODCC
Enemies: [member="Gwrtheyrn"] Silver Jedi Order
Allies: The Primeval
Gear: Theseus' Dual Lightsabers and Meditation Stones (to clarify, he has three stones)

Theseus was pleased as the man/creature proceeded to make it's way towards his direction. Theseus hidden within the shadow's and behind some debris from when the Primeval had launched it's initial siege of the command center. Dropped off one of his three meditation stones. Theseus was by no means dull, and he'd use anything be it large or small to his advantage in this fight. Then using the force Theseus dove out and stood to face the creature as he looked up to it, to meet it's eyes in a manner of a challenge. He made the same high pitched whistle as he had before. So, it was clear it was he who made the challenge. This time he didn't bother distorting it, now it was time to save his force abilities to that solely for battle. Theseus called his two light sabers from there sheaths in his robe and into his hands, using telekinesis. Though didn't activate them quite yet as he gave a nod to the creature, in a sort of respect to his opponent. Theseus was once a jedi, and though he'd turned to the dark side, he was not without morals, nor respect to other force users. He didn't hate light siders in general, though he refused to turn back to the order his former master was part of.

Then Theseus did what he'd trained himself to do as his eyes narrowed and he, though keeping a eerily calm expression. Brought forth the memories of the past. To turn that pain, and wield it as anger. Before Theseus once again using the force dove into the ruble and became ghostly silent. As he dashed about to a hidden position. Calming his breath and taking his two other stones and had them float and rotate along beside him. As he used them as a means to focus. Theseus would need balance between that of his anger, and the calmness his jedi teaching provided. Only at the state where he was in the middle. Would Theseus be at his strongest and most focused state. That is where he'd need to be to win this battle. Too much anger, and he became blind, too much calm and he became passive.

Theseus noted where he dropped off the first meditation stone. He'd be using that later in the duel. As well as the two he currently had quietly rotating beside himself. Theseus was a prodigy in the force and though he was young and still had much teaching. Engaging in a force battle with Theseus was a fools errand. Theseus was aware there were stronger opponents. Nobody was exactly god over the force. Though Theseus was aware he was up there amongst some of the more naturally gifted. Theseus took this moment to make his opening attack, as he focused on some medium sized debris on the left hand side of the creature, and using telekinesis sent it flying towards his opponents chest, not as much as a killing blow, as a distraction, and perhaps potentially even a wounding blow. Theseus awaited to see the creatures reaction to this attack, and from there Theseus could calculate what he was dealing with, as he knew there was no going back. Theseus was in this battle until he or his opponent emerged victorious in some way or another.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

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

There was constant bombardment pounding the walls, now seemingly more concentrated than before. Their commander was no fool; they were targeting their defense turrets and heavy weaponry. A man approached, wearing a mask he'd seen on multiple occasions. "Nagate," he greeted him with a quick nod. "Go help out our right flank." He pointed in the direction. "They brought down a building which now cuts us off from those on the other side. If you could help clear the debris for us, it would restore our line-of-sight and communication along the entirety of the wall." Thurion gave the man a pat on the shoulder. "Make me proud, son!"

Soon after he'd sent Nagate on his way, the men around him suddenly steered clear of the area. "Watch out," they screamed and pointed up to the skies. A large projectile soared through the air, heading right where he stood. Thurion would neither bend nor break in the face of adversity on this day, and defiantly stood his ground while the projectile grew ever nearer. Feet firmly planted in the blanket of snow, Thurion summoned the Force with deep breaths. Extending his arms, the projectile began to lose speed as it approached. Once close enough that he could reach out and touch it, the Grandmaster had it firmly in his grasp. With a mighty roar he launched it back towards their attackers, effectively eliminating one of their siege weapons.

Thurion turned towards those that had sought cover. "Stand with me, Warriors of Light! Do not let fear decide who wins this day!" They all cheered and returned to their stations atop the walls, their morale reinvigorated. Gazing across the field littered with trenches and enemy soldiers, he spotted who he believed to be their commander. He could sense the dark aura from where he stood, as well as immense power in this person.

 

[Kurt Meyer]

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

Having mysteriously relocated to the other objective Kiran lay on his stomach overlooking the base.

His rifle was still in his hands, fed with a single powerpack and slowly panning over the side of the base. They had coordinates, but no real layout of the base itself. From what he had been told the base was ancient, thousands of years old. Of course to him that meant not having even the most basic blueprints seemed rather...well disappointing.

Primeval logistics really needed to get its shit together.

For a few seconds Kiran simply panned his scope over the base, watching as soldiers moved across the base and prepared for the inevitable attack. He watched, calmly, his breathing slowing to a crawl. Eventually he began to pan over buildings, peering through cracked walls and small alcove windows.

His eyes narrowed as he stopped.

Command Centers traditionally had no windows, and for good reason, yet with a click Kiran shifted his HUD view to infrared. The heat signs of the building began to bloom, and quickly figures shifting about the building began to appear, contrasted to the cold outside walls.

He smiled slightly as a gathering appeared in one section of the command center. His lips pulled into a smirk, and quickly he adjusted his rifle. A normal sniper rifle wouldn't have been able to breach the durasteel of the Command Center, luckily, his was no normal rifle. It would take two shots, one to breach the walls, the other to kill whoever was inside that gathering...if they didn't run away.

Kiran slowed his breathing to a crawl, and then he pulled the trigger.

The bright yellow particle beam would fly out, striking against the wall directly outside the command center and exploding in a bright flash of yellow and red.

 

[Maya Carrick]

Objective: B
Location: Inside one of the main building
Allies: Silver Jedi and friends
Enemy: [member="Perla Pirjo"] all others that attacking the Command Center
Gear: Silver robes, Knifes out of AKK teeth, 2 lightsaber, (one hidden), Herbal bag

Knowing this day would come soon enough for ones with the darkside of the force wanting to take Zoist. It had a strange calling that called them to take. It was the Silver job to not let them have it and its secrets along with it. Letting herself deep with in her she went. It wasn't going to be long before she would have to call out the warrior that keep deep with in. In all her hope she wish she didn't have to fight.

Finding herself breathing deeper as she heard most of her own fellow jedi already engaged in battle, even then she keep herself from getting out of balance. Bathing in the pure of light force even for this tainted planet. Long ago she had learn to filter the darkness away as not matter what place was tainted there was still the little ray of open that force being both of light and dark the very life force of the galaxy.

Soon, enough she would have to pick her own battle engage. Until then she would gather up her own force to put layers upon layers wrapping her own armor of protection from the darkness to blend the two world became the Shadow hunter. It was during this time that she need to do more then that the gathering storm would come to her soon enough. That was when she would found out if she could really fight another one after taking a vow to not raise a hand towards one, but to heal be metal, physical or spirituality.

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

Objective: B - The Non-Orbital Orbital Station
Enemy: [member="Darth Atrophia"]
Allies: The Coalition of the Willing, Scotchman ([member="Valiens Nantaris"])

Gear: 1x MKI bolter, 1x bolt pistol, 1x sonic shotgun, wrist-worn flamethrower, vibroknife, grenades, lightsabre, beskar'gam



Once again it was invasion time! The forces of Darkness and Light would clash over the lovely, frosty and terribly uninviting planet of Ziost to decide who could add it to their influence cloud. Huzzah! There would be bloodshed, murder and slaughter upon this benighted, accursed world that had suffered so greatly during Vitiate's 'I shall devour the Galaxy for the sheer evil' campaign. Anyhow, it seemed armies and fleets were background noise. What annoyed Siobhan a tad was that the Coalition could not try out the shiny ships Firemane had been making for them. Well, the Star Destroyer was still being tested, in other words pending approval, but nonetheless. Of course, she was utterly useless at fleeting unless it involved boarding actions or asteroid chucking, so in all likelihood an invasion that's focused on fleet combat would be horror for her.


Clad from head to toe in imposing beskar'gam and heavily armed she approached, having sensed Nantaris' presence. She had sort of known him from back when they had both been Jedi, before she had decided to become a rogue before ditching the Order had become the cool and trendy thing to do. In other words, ages ago. No, she was not old at all! Still, he had done good work on Tygara and seemed like an alright sort. For a scruffy manling. Beskar'gam limited her mobility unless she called upon the Force, a power on which she was rather dependent by now, but on the bright side it was a bit like wearing a tank.


However, eyes soon fell upon the intruder who was approaching the orbital, non-orbital station. This one is a bit doubtful whether Siobhan would be aware of her identity as Silara and position in the One Sith hierarchy, partially due to not being aware of how much the the One Sith Empire advertises its leaders publicly. Anyhow, she seemed part of the 'black hood and cowl' crew that was all the rage in Sith fashion. Likewise great power could be sensed from her, for her aura was very potent. This would be an...interesting fight. Maybe Siobhan would also lose a limb or two again, though given how thoroughly used she was to that by now, one wondered how big a loss that would be.


Now, maybe the Jedi thing to do would have been to ask her who she was and give a speech about how she should 'return to the light side'. Maybe battle would have ensued, maybe the Sith would have employed the time and tested tactic called dun moch. This would amount to both sides elaborating on how awesome their side was until they either started fighting or one of them gave up. However, Siobhan was no Jedi. Or even a light sider. Or inclined to talk during combat.


So while Nantaris decided to hurl insults at the stranger, Siobhan pulled at the strands of power and filled herself with the Force as she focused, harnessing her aggression. It was, unsurprisingly, her power of telekinesis she called up on. Not very original, but then Siobhan tended not to be that. She focused on her core powers and honed them again and again. What she brought forth was a massive, invisible, telekinetic hammer that, through the power of her mind, she sought to ram into the Sith's chest with the power to smash bones and break a durasteel wall down. Nothing lethal yet, but very painful. Her MKI bolter, held in a tight grip, roared when she squeezed the trigger and explosive bolts leapt out. The warheads would be armed at launch and explode upon impact, meaning any pressure exerted would cause detonation.

 

[Nima Tann]

Objective: A
Location:Outside of the Walls
Allies: Silver Sanctum Coalition, her mutated wolf Ice
Enemies: Primeval, [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="Loxa Visl"]
Gear: Lightsaber with meditation crystal, armored light Jedi robes

The woman with the dark aura talked, answering her question in a calm manner. Not too strong, not so weak. And her brain was closed to the outside force, since she tried but failed to read her mind. Primeval, as she suspected, this two women were from the other side. And why didn't the other woman speak but just stood there listening their "conversation". Was she preparing herself for an attack? Well, she was ready. Lightsaber on the hilt, hand standing close to her weapon. She took a breath and examined her surroundings, almost empty, covered in snow and some rocks, environment wasn't going to help. And where the Force was Ice?

"So, no name belongs to you, that means you are nothing as an individual. Good to know. How about your friend? Does she have a name?" She said to the woman that answered her with a grin on her face. She didn't like to mock people, but she didn't like her behaviour as well. Also she wanted to provoke them into attacking first, Jedi rules were Jedi rules. "I am Nima Tann, Master of the Silver Sanctum." An example of having a name, she knew that the woman she was talking got the message. She looked at the other woman. What was she doing here, it was clear that she didn't have a desire for this invasion, else, Dark Side wasn't that dark as she thought. "You have two ways to go now, first way, the easy way. You get out of here and no one gets hurt. Second way, you don't get out of here now and..." She heard a voice coming from the bushes nearby, afterwards, her giant wolf walking towards them and growling to the two women. And then stood by Nima, still very careful for any sign of movement, his ears were upright. "I'll have to show you the door." She said, and then added. "I suggest you to take the easy way."

Self confidence, a good thing but also can be very fatal. Of all these times she had been shy and all, what was this overwhelming feeling coming around her now? Was that the fear of losing her home, her memories, loved ones? Probably. She didn't care for her own life. Well, she was about to find out which was important and which wasn't. Her hand stood close to the lightsaber, fighting is the last resolution. Don't forget. She looked to her wolf, giving a smile but also keeping her serious face around. It was about to go bad, she could sense it.

 

[Arrbi Betna]

Objective: A
Location: Outside the walls
Allies: Jedi/Silver Sanctum
Enemies: [member="Isabella Denko"]
Gear:

• Beskar Beskar'gam
• Dinu'ul
• Beskad
• Chaav'la Revolver w/ standard and Ori'shuk ammuntion
• Bodo Baas Gunbelt
• Taozin Amulet

The battle waged on as death came to claim friend and foe alike. More of the enemy fell to Betna's blade, but none had met his challenge. The beskad in his hand flickered and blurred as he moved among the enemy, sprays of blood and piercing screams following in his wake. Periodically the snap-crack of the energy shield in his off hand was heard as Betna bludgeoned a foe or took an incoming attack on the burning surface.

Betna moved with purpose as he fought, his steps carrying him into fresh enemies and away from treacherous footing. For a time, more Primeval soldiers arrived to try and stop the Mandalorian, but now their numbers quickly thinned out. Whether they had fallen to his weapons or opted to run and survive a little longer Betna neither knew nor cared. What he did know, however, was if this was if this was the case how had the Mandalorians lost Wayland? How had a world fallen so easily against such a foe?

The only way to gauge this properly was to fight a warrior; one of the enemy champions. Someone to test his skills upon and to be tested in turn. The fact that none had so far stepped forward told him either none dared face him or, perhaps, none could be found in this area of the fighting.

As another soldier fell before him, Betna saw more ships arriving to disgorge troops. He thought a moment, then began moving towards them. The odds were a champion would arrive at some point and, if they did, they'd arrive there. If such was the case, then Betna would find his opponent.

It was time to find the wolves among the sheep.

 

[Chastity Lunelle]

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

As the humanoid slowly walked towards her, Chastity's feet took one step back. Then two. Through the speaker of his helm came a too-calm voice, reiterating his command to surrender or he would take her. As a slave! The sheltered Padawan had only heard the nightmare tales of slavers as cautionary tales that adults used to warn their children against running away. Yet, here was one standing before her, promising to inflict untold horrors on her. Chastity's knees began to shake. An emotional war raged within her, as every cell in her body told her to flee. But Jedi did not flee. They stood firm against the darkness. You have men to protect, Chast. Don't be a scared little Nuna! Trust in the Force.

Back on the farm on Aduba III, they had a stubborn Bok. His name was Fabio. One day, Fabio had escaped his electric fencing, and the farm girl was tasked with herding the large draft animal back into captivity. With his thick hooves and horns that could gore a person in two, Fabio was not a beast to be trifled with. Chastity was incensed at her parents for making her deal with the frightening animal. Why it could easily trample her! Eventually, the girl overcame her fear of the Bok, enough to taunt it into chasing her, which allowed her to rope it and drag it back into its pen. This creature, despite his visible weaponry, was no different than Fabio, was he? She would treat him like a stubborn bull that needed to be penned.

The light from her blue blade haloed her face as Chastity answered her opponent.

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One." she said in a shakier voice than she would have liked. Then, through gritted teeth, the scared young Padawan forced out a taunt.

"Come claim me, then. Try it."

 

[Sage Bane]

Objective: B, Kill or seduce Damian Starchaser
Location: Somewhere in the Orbital Defense Station
Allies: Primeval
Enemies: [member="Damian Starchaser"], Jedi whelps
Gear:
Vonduun Skerr Kyrric (no helm or gloves)
Lightsaber
Amphistaff biot
The Hated Hand

As Sage stole through the dimly lit corridors of the maintenance tunnel, he felt the Jedi's presence beckoning to him, the pulsing energy of the Light begging to meet the Dark. The amphistaves of his prosthetic arm hissed with anticipation of their Master's confrontation. Sage gave one of the creatures a sharp rap on its head. Hush now, pets. You'll get your bloodshed soon, but now, have patience. He inched closer to the aura, and in a few moments, stood a few meters away from a blast door. Barely audible whispers flowed from his lips. Ancient tongues of Sith magic mingled with weaving hand motions, as the illusionist created a hyper-realistic disguise. Using the arcanity of Sith magic, he glamoured himself in the robes of the Jedi, replete with a Light Sided signature to match. The Sith Lord fashioned himself two normal human arms and the gash of a blaster wound across his chest. To anyone within range, he would appear to be a wounded Jedi warrior.

With a wave of his hand, he used his gifts of telekinesis to hiss open the blast doors. There, stood the owner of the beacon, a golden-haired Force adept, young, perhaps eighteen to twenty years old, most likely a Padawan. Hello innocence.

Sage clutched at his blaster wound and with a furrow of pain in his brow, traded glances with the young man. Keeping his mind locked against intrusion, he stumbled forward, pleading with the Jedi.

"Please...I need your help," he said.

Moth meet flame.

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective: B
Location: Entering the gates of the Orbital Command Center
Allies: Primeval
Enemies: [SIZE=11.8181819915771px][member="Maya Whitelight"][/SIZE]
Gear: Chain-sickle, Primeval Advanced Agent Tactical Armor, Lightsaber


Primeval allies appeared to have taken the gates of the heavily fortified Orbital Command Center, and some Darkside Jedi, fellow witches, Sith and soldiers were already streaming into the facility to drive out the Silver Jedi. Perla joined them and eagerly sought out an opponent.

She spied a female Jedi clad in black and purple robes. Catching a glimpse of the woman’s face, she realized she was not human, but bore the distinctive pink skin of a Zeltron. The ancient magic was strong, even in the Command Center, and slowly, the Spellweaver reached out with dark, inky tendrils of the Force to slide over the near-human’s aura, attempting to unsettle her like the stroke of an unwanted lover.

In the Jedi, she sensed a calm serenity and that typical Jedi peace, which felt stifling to the witch. Perla inhabited a world of disorder and passion, of blood, screams and pandemonium. This tranquil Zeltron would be a welcome challenge. I wonder how much Nightsister magic she can take before she would be driven mad, the Spellweaver mused? What a terribly sublime test this would be for the both of them.

“A Zeltron,” Perla said, approaching with a low growl. “I have made potions before with your kind’s pheromones. And blood. It was a love potion to be exact.”

She slowly advanced, her lightsaber still clipped to her belt. Holding the handle with both hands, Perla began to twirl the barbed chain-sickle around, the scythe at the end making an eerie whirring noise. Using the Force, she enhanced its speed, and like the blade of a Chopter, if Perla suddenly hurled the scythe at the Jedi, the motion was so fast now, that it would cut through most armor and skin in the blink of an eye.

“The love potion didn’t work,” she spat from the confines of her helmet. “The problem was that I didn’t have enough Zeltron blood. I think yours will do today, Jedi.”

Perla didn’t attack and only stood, twirling her chain-sickle, challenging the Zeltron female to make the first move.

 

[Keira Priest]

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

It seemed that this time the point where words were abandoned in favor of action was a much easier thing to reach than it had been before. The last time, despite her prodding, he'd remained stoic, refusing to respond in any manner that wasn't verbal in nature. Now those words were replaced by the familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber, the weapon droning through the air as he leveled it at her, an unspoken challenge that Keira would have offered under any other circumstance. Once again he spoke, to assure himself just as much as intimidate her. "You should be careful what you wish for, Jedi. I've become more disciplined since the last time we met." And by that she meant her skill in combat had only become more finely honed until she was able to hold her own with a touch more finesse, and against a Jedi Master no less.

His hand shot up, releasing a burst of the Force outward, and she allowed it to carry her, sending her own telekinetic burst out to help her land on her feet. Slowly she straightened, calling her lightsaber hilt back into her hand. Thumbing the ignition switch, the blade hissed into existence, casting its own sort of glow on the ice-encrusted ground. Just as he had done in the minutes previous she allowed the tip of the weapon to stray towards his throat. The glow emitted glinted in her amber eyes, adding a spark of danger a touch more volatile than that which showed in his own azure gaze. Without a word she struck with her own telekinetic push, not shifting position to do so save spinning her blade once with a flick of her wrist. Just as his had done, hers would unbalance him if it struck true.

"You say you're damaged as if that's something special. You aren't the only one with a few cracks showing." The two were nearly opposing reflections of the other, each an example of what either of them could become should they shift even a millimeter within their current belief system. There were others out there in the galaxy like him, if only he would open his eyes and admit it to himself. Her smile became a bit more crooked, carefree in nature, and almost dangerously so at that. He was damaged, and yet he pledged himself to destroying her. "Are you sure about that? I'd worry about yourself before you try and fix something else. If you can't even patch up your own problems, what makes you think you'll be able to do a thing about me?" There was no doubt that he'd suffered, but he'd allowed himself to become too preoccupied with his own pain.

And speaking of that, a flash of turmoil and fear for another had sparked through the Force just before he'd started speaking, seconds after a scream of terror had echoed from the Citadel. It didn't take too long to connect the dots, and she tilted her head slightly to one side in an expression of mock curiosity. "So you took on a student even when you can't take care of yourself. I might be dark, but at least I don't wallow in my own self-pity." That had been perhaps too personal of a barb, but she cared little for whatever nerve she may have touched. Those that attacked in anger were typically uncoordinated, leaving themselves open to most any counter. The only way to test that hypothesis would be to push him just a bit too far. And here was the reason that she had gathered her own extensive retinue of scars.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Objective: Taking a tour of the Citadel! (A)
Location: PARTAY ZONE! (Inside the citadel)
Allies: I'm dancing, and dancing with [member="Mishk"]! (Primeval)
Enemies: Oh look, I and Mishk have found a dancing partner ! ([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 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.

Like clawing through the maggoted flesh of an old corpse, the rubble fell away at the behest of the abomination, tasting any exploded remains that might remain on the stone as he did so. The Terror Runners were more useful than as simple physiological weapons, to one's sick surprise. Ravenous, his eyes reflected his anxiousness in a deep violet shade, which was almost and very nearly black, matching his grey and midnight skin. Using his microscopic vision, he searched for upon the rocks any scrap of guts his hands could touch and subsequently devour, before he finally stumbled his way into the Citadel, to find a most interesting prospect before him.

"Look Mishk!" His tendrilled hand pointed, drooling with hunger. "A frieeeeeeeeend!" His throne of bodies hovered closer to the Jedi, one body having been jostled by the explosions so that one of its arms reached down and touched the floor, its soft flesh giving way to the friction and producing a long trail of red-black liquid upon the ground.

A snap sounded, as his long barbed whip uncoiled in his other hand, dropping to the floor like a dead python... but prepared to strike with the bite of a viper. His violet black eyes quickly reformed themselves, into that familiar bloody hue, desiring now not the flesh of the dead, but the blood of the living.

"Let's eat her!" The Sith laughed in that familiar Hutt rumble. Without a moment's hesitance, the dead pythonic whip upon the floor sprung forward with a speed not befitting of it, augmented and guided by the mind of its wielder to strike behind her calves.

 

[Ordo]

Objective: Let's Marvin Gaye and get it on (B)
Location: Somewhere inside the Orbital Defense Station
Allies: Me
Enemies: [member="Darth Voracitos"]
Gear: Lightsaber, stubbornness, mythosaur axe (its a thing) Armor and stuff.


Ziost was not a place he cared for. It was a frigid ball of darkness wrapped in layers of misery and death. It had a history of wretchedness that could only be surpassed by a handfull of other worlds and had he a choice he would have dropped it into the nearest sun and never looked back, but he had no say with these people. Among the levantines he had been nothing more than a farmer and smith. He hid and stayed away from Mandalorian politics. It was for the best or so he told himself.

Now that they had joined with the silver jetiise he was once again called to war and as he was accustomed, he answered the call. He stood on the defense station among the troops. He was an unknown and unnoticed being simply standing his post as he was told. His skill at hiding his connection to the force had grown a great deal during his time after acting as the Sith lord's vessel. A survival tactic in a galaxy that would want him to pay for his deeds.

When the great sensation of darkness entered the defense station he could no longer play the part of simple trooper and moved. His feet pounded out a rhythm as he left his post and crossed the bay toward the creature that still haunted the memory of many Mandalorians. He dropped his cover and focused on the force. His skills were in the physical enhancement realm but he knew he would need more than jumping and punching today. He hefted his axe and stopped short of the ship as it appeared. Why? His writer who spawned him here said so. He watched from behind the T-shaped visor of his buy'ce and waited. It was time to stop hiding and start breaking things.

 

[Darth Voracitos]

Objective: Stomping space 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...
Enemies: Space 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)

Sipping his wine as he looked about at the "defenses" of this building... hmm, not much at all it would seem. Suddenly though, as the ramp descended he could feel a particularly strong presence land before him... but all he saw was a simple Mandalorian hefting his melee weapon of choice. A bored sounding sigh escaped the lips of the Dark Lord, as once again, he was left with nothing but Mandalorians to deal with.

Sure he might be an old phantom in their nightmares as an old Emperor, but surely he wasn't nearly as feared as one Emperor Moridin, who was responsible for sacking Junction and Concord Dawn both, and would've been responsible for beating back the Mandalorians at Junction again, if not for the coming of Empress Ashin Varanin. What did he ever do to earn the ire of these pathetic peoples other than be the simple dictator of their arch nemesis of the era? He only invaded them once on the will of the Dark Council, and wasn't even Emperor then. Nor was he particularly responsible for the actions of the Death Watch at Keldabe.

Ugh... but now he remember that pathetic squabble his lesser half had created in his slumber within Chaos, that had tried to infiltrate the Mandalorians by turning himself and his most prized ship in... and inevitably just fell asleep due to the use of those force negating lizards. Pathetic imposter, it can't even fake being him correctly, even with ninefold power.

Though surely that would not earn their ire. Perhaps a bit of unease at his presence, but he was merely a relic of the past, not truly strong enough to produce atroci- oh wait. He forgot that his lesser half did actually eat a rather significant number of resident on Rodia and produced not a little amount of wide scale destruction through the force alone as a fifty foot ethereal monster.

Okay fine, so maybe he was a bit of a terror to the galaxy. But only a little!

Regardless, Voracitos did not see the man before him as much of a threat, and responded to him as he would a more common soldier. With a disgusted sort of look on his face, rolling his eyes to the side, he sent his lightsaber from within his cloak spinning through the air to behead the man before returning to him. Meanwhile, his other hand raised his glass to gulp down the rest of his wine.

 

[Kana Truden]

Objective: A
Location: Outside the walls.
Allies: [member="Khaleel Malvern"]
Enemies: [member="Adele Adonai"] (Or?)
Gear:

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

There was no point in waiting for Khaleel respond. The armor sat well and what she hadn’t been able to cover up with a pair of gloves was neatly covered up by the rest of what she wore. Perhaps she should have thought of something more army-like, but going in a manner most casual felt good. Besides, it wasn’t as if she looked like herself. In fact she very much looked like someone else. She’d ask Khaleel where he got the resources to pull these things from but deep down she already knew.

“It’s fine.” The redhead drummed her fingers on her thigh. “Just fine.”

In the distance sounded the all-clear signal. The soldiers around them began their march towards their target. In some places the battle had seemingly already begun, for all Kana knew they were the reinforcements.

Soldiers passed her by and soldiers was shot down as the closer to the Citadel they got the louder the explosions became. Her ears rang, yet in the midst of the chaos came that one ripple through the force. Like water on a lake or a bright tone on fine-tuned violin. It felt like a jedi, no doubt, but not just any jedi...

... [member="Adele Adonai"].

Kana’s heart stopped for a second. Her hand grasped at her chest, her teeth gritted and her eyes closed as the pain of memories of the past resurfaced. She couldn’t be here, it was impossible. Healer Adonai had died long ago on Alderaan. Kana had read the reports, she knew it to be true as a fact. With a quick look around she kept an eye out for ghosts only to be met with nothing but the last few men rushing off to their deaths.

“Come out!” The red haired illusion shouted at the unknown. “I know you’re out there!”

 

[Connor Harrison]

Objective: A
Location: Outside the Citadel walls
Allies: [member="Chastity Lunelle"] (Padawan) | Silver Sanctum & allies
Enemies: [member="Keira Ticon"] (claimed)
Unique Gear: Combat Armour | Lightsaber

The girl was certainly different to the last time they had met in the presence of [member="Taeli Raaf"] - Darth Arcanix - years before. She was full of hatred, venom, angst and blood-lust - truly belonging to the animals of the Primeval. Two fighters screeched overhead, the horrors of battle ever closer as one exploded as they broke into the sky, debris raining down to the icy ground.

With Keira moving to return his Force blast, Connor brought up his arm in a mock shield and turned his head, the buffer of his own blast to absorb hers, but it was enough to stop him in his tracks and retreat two paces to get his footing again on the treacherous terrain.

His blade pointing downwards, Connor moved forward step as she fueled the fire burning in him with empty mockery he had heard thousands of times before. It was when another personal stab at Chastity came from her mouth - doubting her and doubting him as a Master, that was the final straw. It was time for people to know that Connor didn't care who he was. He KNEW who he was, and they would either have to accept it, or fight it. His cold fingers gripped the hilt of the saber tight and his jaw tensed as he saw nothing but that wonderful grey mist in his vision that turned him from rational to dangerous.

There was nothing to say to the girl - she had made her choice, as had he.

Connor span his saber in a 360 circle, all with the flick of a wrist as he stalked to her.

He caught the hilt with his free hand for a double-grip, and brought it up and across to start his attack and dangerous dance in the snow where he wouldn't stop until she split her crimson blood on the snow before him and her life she wasted could be over for her to be at peace.