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

[Mishk]

Objective A
Location: inside the citadel
Allies: Primevil, [member="Zambrano the Hutt"]
Enemies: Silver coalition, [member="Taeli Raaf"]
Gear: A pointy stick

---------------------

There was a sucking sound as Mishk lifted his small head from the ground. He had lost against the temptation and was eagerly licking the trail of flesh and blood left in the wake of his masters throne. In Mishks twisted world he was picking up imbued left overs from his master beautiful feast - insects, worms and snails mixed with parts of the recently dead. Mishk was shoveling them into his hungry jaws, filled with rows of sharpened teeth as he suddenly felt a shift in his masters mood.

"A friend?" he questioned with a hiss.

A wasp left the neck of his robe and landed on his sleeve. Mishk stretched his gaze, sensing something. He needed to find his masters dark powerful tentacles - who were reaching out to find this creature of interest. Taping unto [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] s darkness Mishk found the right slithering tentacle pointing straight at this very strange friend.

Mishks jaws dropped as his eyes fell on [member="Taeli Raaf"].

"She will become beautiful massster! Beautiful!"

He giggled and tumbled forth to the side of his masters throne

Summoning his dark power Mishk drew upon the constant fear and despair around them. To the jawa It was as if the very earth boiled with feverish death, rising and heaving with raw dark energies. He held onto that image as his sleeve burst free and he sent forth a swarm of flesh eating wasps to create fear and pain, as they were directed to gnaw her face away.

(Action)

Spoiler

The bugs is just a way to describe how Mishk percieve the force. It may not be true to others. The power he is trying to use is inflict pain.

 

[Boethiah]

Objective: A
Location: Outside the walls.
Allies: [member="Loxa Visl"]
Enemies: [member="Nima Tann"]
Gear: Anja's Armour | Dreamweaver

Anja's face maintained the same placid expression as the Jedi continued to speak to them.

It was a shame, "Nima Tann," she spoke the name softly and aloud. She began to call upon her magicks, the energy that gathered like a typhoon swirled inside her body and etched itself into her spirit. Her empty left hand rose slowly with an open palm, the concentrated energy began to eat away into the land and hopefully the minds of all those around Anja, unfortunately her companion would be no exception to this unless she had found a way out of it. Anja's magicks began to shape an illusionary landscape of thorns and darkness, vines 'protruded' from the ground and wrapped themselves around anything feasibly wrapped around.

This process took time and it wasn't immediately, as she had to concentrate on this shaping of illusions as it happened. Dreamweaver was still grasped in her right hand, the blade tilted towards the dirt and her eyes were locked forwards. The witch had no intentions of commanding or ordering Loxa, allowing her companion to do as she saw fit in this engagement; the results of which would be witnessed in time.

The Host Lord was not provoked or concerned, an experience [member="Keira Ticon"] would not have been all too unfamiliar with. Perhaps through their strange connection, the Dark Jedi would be able to sense what Anja was doing elsewhere. She always did wonder the nature of their connection and what untold effects may come from it. Something inside of Anja could feel Keira's presence on the world already, although it was faint and fruitless, more like a hunch than an actual feeling.

Spoiler: OOC

The nature of Anja's ability is based off of Force Illusions strengthened by what she's learned in her book. It takes two posts to complete(this would be the first post).

 

[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.

The girth...the girth was far beyond what he had been led to believe. The beings smug look of superiority combined with his...presence was enough to cause bile rise in the slowly aging man's throat. He looked at the Sith. The Sith rolled his eyes. Ordo's nostrils flared behind his visor and he was glad his filters still worked as cool fresh scrubbed air entered his lungs.

The lightsaber shot from somewhere within the large Sith's folds and streaked like crimson death for Ordo's neck. As he tended to like that portion of his body and seeing as it was less covered than the rest of him he decided letting it hit was not his best option.

He squeezed the actuator on his axe handle which engaged the vibromotor and swung for the saber as it came in reach. The vibroblade of the axe could handle a lightsaber but not for long, if he didn't end this quickly he would have to use his own lightsaber and he hadn't turned that on for more than six years, not really the best choice for dueling. The two weapons collided in a spray of sparks as Ordo swung and he resumed his stance for dramatic suspense before lifting his left hand and calling on the force for the most devastating attack ever....he tried to crush the wine glass/cup/container of containment containing contents that as a result were contained. It was a death stroke attempt...obviously.

 

[Catalys Maijora]

Objective: B
Location: Inside the Command Center.
Allies: [member="Darth Voracitos"]
Enemies: [member="Ordo"]
Gear: The Incapacitator | Heavy Pistols x2 | Taser Blade | RDI Smartpack w/ Pistols x2 | Armour

Catalys wandered the empty corridors, he heard footsteps as men and women ran around the facility but not a being nor shadow came into sight. He knew at any moment someone could sneak up behind him, or walk out of a room and bump into him, or maybe he'd stumble upon a showdown between one of the greatest Mandalorians and a morbidly obese Sith Lord. The Exemplar knew not what fate had in store for him, but he did chuckle aloud at that last thought; expecting his true fight to be with some Jedi Padawan or maybe that man with the hammer again... Where did he go?

No... Fate had a funny way of proving you wrong. Turning the corner down a long hall and entering the fray, Catalys found himself face-to-face with the most unexpected scenario. It took him a moment to even gather who was friend and who was foe and even then he still didn't know if the grotesque one wouldn't attempt to eat him during the duel.

A cold sigh escaped the agent's lips, the Umbaran's HUD locked onto [member=Ordo] and he raised his rife, intending to fire a rather well-placed cone when suddenly two shots fired from the backpack's pistol arms before he had a chance to pull the trigger. A rather shocked Catalys looked to either side to see two drawn pistols, "the hell, backpack!?" He exclaimed loudly at the sudden yet inevitable betrayal of technology. It was enough for him to have forgotten to pull the trigger of his main gun.

Too bad; he was really looking forward to a surprise attack.

 

[Keira Priest]

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

Her blade raised in the next moment, plasma sparking as she blocked the first strike that marked the beginning of the end for them both. There was a sort of bloodlust Keira could sense emanating from him, one that mingled with an idea of personal duty and determination. He was bent on bringing her down, and she was just as determined to remain standing and on her feet, unbroken. For a time they traded blows, her refusing to remain entirely on the defensive no matter how hard he pushed. This was what she had trained for, above all else. The moment where two warriors met, their weapons the only thing acting as a buffer between them. It was the purest form of existence, combat, or so she had been taught to believe. And in times like this, she began to think her old mentor had been right.

Defense had never been something she was adapted to, the aggressive fighting styles she had devoted her training to a testament to that. It was always better to be on the attack, keeping your enemy on their toes rather than the other way around. It was far easier to end fights that way, as one mistake in their defense meant an easy victory. And this was no different. So when he pushed she returned his own momentum with her own, attempting to change the direction of the fight with a counter that would, if successful, put him on the defensive as she pressed forward with a flurry of strikes indicative of the Ataru style. Speed had always been her asset, and it would be again. She had held her own against a Gen'Dai numerous times in the past. This couldn't be much harder than that had been.

Ducking low, she lashed out with one leg for a sweeping kick that would trip him up if it connected. Assuming that was successful she would follow it up with another blast of the Force. Regardless of whether any of her strikes connected she would do what she could to remain at the very least on equal footing with him, knowing full well that he was just as talented as she was, if not more so given that he'd been at this longer than she'd been alive. But unlike him, this was what she lived for. Those chance few times when one met an opponent that refused to forfeit any ground, each just as certain as the other that they would come out on top. It was then a sort of meditative state was reached, where the only thing that mattered was the ensuing battle, everything else a secondary thing. It was in moments like this that she was inexplicably at peace.

But nothing lasted forever. With a final flash of her blade towards his face she flipped away, landing lightly on her feet two or so meters away. From that new vantage she studied him for a time, watching how he moved and the exact grip in which he held his saber, noting the hand he favored as his dominant and the way he walked. As headstrong as she no doubt appeared, she was capable of accessing a higher intelligence, calculating her odds when compared to her opponent and just what the detriments of every last move she could make were. This was home. "You're like me." Slowly she began walking in a wide arc about him, always keeping him in her line of sight. "Broken." The word was spoken casually. "A slave. Perhaps not quite so literally as me, but a slave nonetheless." The flash of a smile. "You're nothing."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P68fmKQJ-6g[/youtube]​

Objective: Objective A - Assault the walls of the Citadel, and reclaim it for the Sith!
Location: In the trenches, laying siege to the walls
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

"Animate now the twisted sounds of our disdain, our rage​

The notations to our contempt, to unforgiveness and loathing​

A sonic declaration of spite and resentment ​

Its resonance grinding to dust our souls"​

​

Vornskr watched as his minions, specifically the Graug who manned his towering siege machines, launched large chunks of rock towards the walls of the citadel. Prior to the siege machines being brought forth to batter at the walls he had his Glycons, massive beasts of burden and destruction, tear large chunks from the nearby bluffs and walls to use as cannon fodder to attack the walls. Perhaps it was a primitive method of attack, but no one could doubt its proven effectiveness as the chunks of stone crunched into the sides of the citadel wall and buckling the stone with a thunderous boom, yet the walls held tight and more stone was loaded and launched. When one of the projectiles was clutched out of the air and tossed back with frightening accuracy to demolish one of the Sith Lord's siege machines, his eyes narrowed in annoyance as he scanned the ramparts to find the offender.

"Hold your positions here and work to break down the walls as quick as you can." The commander blanched for a moment, obviously off-put by the sudden masterful display of the Force against their siege emplacements, and stammered as he trailed after the Sith Lord. "But milord, you don't possibly mean to scale the walls yourself! We've yet the breach their defenses, they'll be dozens of them up on that wall." The Sith Lord was silent for a moment while he entered the encampment's underground coordination bunker and plucked a sword from a metal contained situated in one of the corners of the room. He then sheathed the weapon to the scabbard drawn across his back, and turned to leave as quickly as he came. The sword seemed to whisper obscenities and hateful promises of malice in the minds of those too weak to block such messages out of their subconscious, giving the commander obvious discomfort by just being near it, his face contorting in anxiety and disgust.

"Leave them to me, Commander. Do as you are instructed, and give the wall no quarter." He then took off in a sprint, the Force carrying his massive frame across the battlefield with such speed that he appeared as a blur of darkness to the naked eye, and with a heave of effort he lunged upward to soar through the air before crashing into the side of the wall. The force of the impact allowed him to embed both of his armored fists into the stone wall, and with the Force at his side he began to scale the wall by break a small section of the stone and using its ruined remains as handhelds to ascend higher and higher. He made no move to disguise his presence in the living Force from those who could sense it, and like a beacon of hungering blackness he ascended to the stairs of heaven to throttle the life from the angels who resided above.

He did, however; make his presence specifically known to the man who destroyed one of his siege weapons.
"I'm coming for you."

 

[Jsc]

Obj: B
Location: Mess Hall, 1st Story, ODCC
Allies: 8 Silver Rangers
Vs: [member="Condor"] p4 / 3 Merc Doods

Roberts looked up to notice her opponent was shooting out the ceiling on her. She kinda figured the leader to have better accuracy than that. Until she noticed the sky was falling. Oh dear. She reached to her belt...

The kitchen counter sparked with a dazzling blue flash and the light fixture was sent sailing. Carved into two equal pieces. Smoldering like tiny flecks of lava from where the lightsaber had dismantled them. Leaving bits and pieces scattering from the flash. The poor Jedi was really into breaking things today.

Karen stood up from behind the smoldering counterspace and engaged the Prime gunmen doods on the bottom floor. Condor could wait for now. She loosed one charged shot from her disruptor to blow a hole in their improvised cover and then one more to send the man behind it flying.

Above, the Rangers had taken cover behind the railings, desks, stair wells, and even wall pillars pressed against the wall that made for shallow shooting alcoves. Four Rangers were down already, as Karen could only sense eight friendlies above her.

"Push!"

Roberts came ducking out from behind the kitchen counter with her gun pointed up at the Prime Leader above. Snap snap snap. Her thermal capacitor snickered with every timed and paced shot. Debris and shrapnel vomited from the walls and from the ceiling as her gun dispersed with it's wicked purple energy. Turning steel into swiss cheese and duracrete into smoldering iron. She would angle herself down below to get a better shot on the male human above her. Not caring that her shots lacked his specific accuracy or position. Her gun would destroy enough concrete and solid matter to keep him in cover. Or to push him out from it.

In that moment the remaining Rangers also took strength. Fresh mags fell into their guns and they switched to automatic and began moving up. Pin the enemy into cover so he can't show himself. Then have your allies push up to threaten their positions from strange angles. Classic modern warfare. It was time to leverage with numbers before somebody got stupid and threw a grenade. Plus. Karen wanted to remind her opponent that she had taken a fancy to him. It was like love at first sight. And what better way to show her affection that to blow up absolutely everything around him. Snap snap snap. Hugs and kisses.

 

[Hades Michae]

OBJECTIVE: A
LOCATION: Outside the Walls
ALLIES: Primeval
ENEMIES: SSC & Friends | No Direct Confrontation (Yet)
GEAR: Lightsaber | Armor

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

[SIZE=10pt] Alright, admittedly it’d taken a while for Hades to get his act together and ship out with the rest of the Primeval towards Ziost. He’d gotten a foot on the rapidly closing hanger ramp to a dropship just before it took off towards atmosphere, slipping his skinny frame inside without a moment to spare.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt] It wasn’t that he hadn’t found some sort of meaning in Prime, or at least as much as he was capable of. It was better to keep busy, to keep his head occupied with matters of credits or territory gained or lost. It was simply that this kind of mobilization felt strange with him involved. He was better suited to daydreaming in his cardboard box on Coruscant. He was great in a fight courtesy of his inability to care about pain or death, but this headlong sprint in to conflict was unknown to him. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt] Ah well. They say there’s a first time for everything.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt] “No smoking in here sir.” Disdainful tone, some soldier.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt] “Kark off. If I die ten minutes from now I’m not going out with a craving.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]________________________[/SIZE]​

​

​

[SIZE=10pt] His boots hit pavement along with the rest who’d gotten a lift on one of the last ships out. He was obviously willowy though his armor hid wiry musculature. The helmet covered a face deeply lined with wrinkles despite his actual age, something he was sure would help him in terms of being targeted. A seeming senior citizen on the battlefield was bound to draw undue attention.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt] The first to touch the ground had already begun the process of lighting up the citadel, it’s plaza lit with the neon glare of blaster fire and sabers clashing. For a second it reminded him of home, the colors lagging to separate each frame in strings of color. Focus, focus.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt] He ignited his saber – unfamiliar, but usable for the moment – as he made his way towards the thick of things, scanning the field for any direct threat. He wanted to make his way inside but a straight shot appeared impossible at the moment.[/SIZE]

 

[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 two clashed blades in a flurry of strikes that sent them sideways, forwards and backwards - the sound of the sabers cut through the air like a razor; the inimitable hum dangerously close as it signalled their moves were fast and powerful. Connor kept his eyes on her blade, watching the vicious movements as he retreated from her speed.

It was then the sweep came and clipped his boot, a hit sneaky enough to force him back again with an enhanced jump to counter her push. Connor landed and knelt slightly, face narrow and watching Kiera do the same to get space between them. There was a duality about them that was frustrating for Connor to see, but one that he had to take note of and be the stronger of.

Keira was still self-destructive, goading him for reaction, and he was getting more annoyed with each taunt. She moved around him, and he once more mirrored her. The last few times he had faced Sith, he had failed. Keira was no Sith, but she still embodied their lack of morality even with the Primeval, only this time she was treading on Silver Sanctum turf and he was the defender.

"I may be nothing, but at least I have something."

Connor pointed a finger to her, blade angled down.

"What've you got? Nothing. No purpose, no goal, nobody. You're a joke, Keira - and everyone is laughing at you."

He opened his arms and shouted at her.

"COME ON!" It was almost a roar, more than a cry. He wanted to unleash hell but first, he wanted her to crack.

 

[Condor]

Objective: B
Location: ODCC Mess Hall
Enemies: [member="Karen Roberts"] and co.
Allies: Now only 2 rood doods
Post: 4
______________________________________________
He saw the light fixture fall from the ceiling, straight at the woman underneath, and watched eagerly as it descended towards her face. Surely this would be the end of her! Suddenly, the fixture exploded into two pieces, perfectly cut in half, as a blue blade rose like a phoenix from its ashes. Oh yeah, he thought. Jedi have those handy dandy glowsticks. Well, at least he had lasted long enough to get her to use it. Practically a victory in and of itself.

As he was congratulating himself for his "victory," the wall next to him decided to butt in with a celebration. Any by celebration, of course, he meant that it showered him with its lovely duracrete chunks and steel bits. Beams of purple energy, definitely from a disruptor rifle, lanced past him and hit the wall and balcony. Little bits of concrete got into his hair, and he shielded his eyes to protect them, and sure enough, he could feel the sting of microscopic bits of wall peppering his hand. Nothing bigger than a bean, luckily enough. These rangers were horrible shots, unless of course they weren't aiming for him.

His two remaining friends fought back even harder, now that they were down a man. A few bolts lanced out at the encroaching rangers as his men fought back, and for a second they stopped. He could hear the faint click of grenades being armed, and sure enough explosions sounded throughout the mess hall, rocking the balcony he was on, the same balcony that was being torn apart by the rangers and Jedi below.

He rolled out of the way of another round of blasts, the poor wall taking the brunt of the blasts again. They were firing from below him, trying to pin him against the wall or make him retreat into the corridor behind him. He was a stubborn man, though, and didn't like giving up so easily. He rolled over again, buying time for the Rangers to get closer to the balcony. He needed to get to a more open space, and hopefully eliminate the pesky Rangers below. He might be able to take the Jedi on in isolated combat, but the eight other soldiers were making life difficult.

Finally, now that the Rangers were close enough, he crawled backwards into the corridor, shielded by the wall. He could hear another blast go off as his men fired off a volley of bolts, giving him covering fire, as he tried the same tactic he had used on the light, shooting out the remaining supports of the balcony. The wound in his shoulder from earlier was really bothering him, but he was able to stabilize the gun long enough to fire off the requisite shots. As the balcony careened off the edge of the wall, he ran out of the corridor, using his jetpack's power to shove the balcony into a more forward trajectory, aiming to crush the Jedi and rangers.

As he sent it on its way down, he activated his jetpack and took off from the falling balcony, whipping out his twin pistols and firing a volley of well placed shots at the Jedi master, the aim in his left arm suffering slightly. He dropped to the ground about twenty meters away and crouched behind a pillar, catching his breath.

 

[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

Thurion watched as the black shade moved across the battlefield with great haste, straight towards him. It seemed he was not alone in figuring out who was leading the opposition, a thought that was confirmed as a sickening voice whispered in his mind:

"I'm coming for you."

He turned to a nearby officer. "Gather the men and get them out of here. Reinforce our flanks and do not return here unless ordered to." His command was uttered in a calm voice, soothing to the senses. It made the man honour the Grandmaster with a bow without saying a word, for none were needed. The officer then quickly gathered the spread-thin company and moved out, leaving the nearby area desolate save for Thurion awaiting this Dark Lord. Rather than go for the aggressive approach, he merely got down on his knees and closed his eyes, listening as his enemy scaled the wall. He wasn't meditating, nor was he summoning the Force.

He was humming. A haunting melody, one that had remained with him since his earliest days as a Jedi. The very same his mother and mentor would sing for him. She never told him what it was called, so he simply named it "Asha's Song".

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYQrxnXD9zo​

 

[Kian Karr]

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

Kian moved in silence, the troops that were around not even aware of his presence. Kian had lead troops in battle from the front line before but was hesitant to do it once again. The last time he had directly lead troops was Kashyyyk....he'd watch many of his men die, falling to the onslaught of the Sith and Vong forces. Kian hadn't considered leading troops again since that day. It wasn't that he was unwilling to lead the troops, he had come to realize that that was not the place for him....his duties were to the Shadows.....and to hunting Sith.

This train of thought was quickly pushed aside as action began to unfold before him. Flash-bangs in the distance spoke of the arrival of the enemy forces and Kian unhooked his lightsaber from his belt, moving stealthily toward the clashing of the force, sticking to the periphery. He felt her long before he saw her. The anger and darkness of her presence speaking to the appearance of a Sith. Sith were so much easier to identify in the force to Kian then any other force entities. They felt raw....almost like a jagged wound in the calming serenity of the force.

Kian leapt forward, his silver lightsaber blade igniting and he cut down two of the enemy soldiers before him with two simple, slashes, haven taken the two by surprise. Kian felt the surprise from the Silver Jedi soldiers beside him and he realized they had been as oblivious to his presence. He also felt excitement in the force. The men were glad he was there. It made him feel pride to be standing there with them. Stepping forward toward the Sith girl, Kian tilted his head to the side examining her.

"Order your soldiers to stand down." Kian said, his voice deep and static as it came through the mask. "There is no need for this killing." Kian said, referring to the killing that would happen on both sides. Too often Kian had pondered over the needless slaughter of battle and always sought a peaceful solution when possible. He held his blade out before him in a typical defensive stance, his covered eyes focused on the girl.

 

[Kuryr]

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


As he waited he wondered what she would do, he felt more fear coming from her then he had from many of the other beings he had fought in the past, but yet she wielded a lightsaber. This fact confused him, he knew that the jedi were supposed to be above fear, or any emotion for that matter, her fear was something that made this fight even more enjoyable. He would enjoy taunting her and teasing her until he was tired, and then he would end this fight, and this puny human's freedom.

Her count down and defiant words made him laugh, the sound mostly drowned out by the chaos around them, but it was evident in his stance that he was laughing at her. " Why don't you show me what you got, little one. Amuse me enough and I may decide to keep you. You can be my personal attendant, I may even allow you to keep your hair." He said and he raised his large pistol up and fired it at her. He wasn't trying to kill her, but it if happened then he could always claim her lightsaber as his trophy. He didn't see it as a loss either way. He was looking for a fight, and he wanted it to be memorable. The going myth about jedi, notwithstanding the present, was that they were some of the greatest warriors in the galaxy. Taking one down would be a tale that would win him much honor.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5OMiJNgWbI0[/youtube]​

Objective: Objective A - Assault the walls of the Citadel, and reclaim it for the Sith!
Location: In the trenches, laying siege to the walls
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

A single armored hand appeared from over the edge of the wall's drop off, and the spiked fingers dug into the stone as the dark being wrenched itself up and over the side of the wall to land on the vacant precipice. His armor was made of banded plates of black armorplast marked with golden Sith runes, and a flowing robe was draped over the armor and billowed behind the Sith Lord menacing as the icy wind wailed across the walls with a suffering moan. His head lacked any form of armor protection, and the hood that previously covered his bald, scarred scalp had been blown back during the meticulous climb to reveal his hateful features. Those same features now curled into a disgusted sneer as he beheld the warrior that knelt before him, his armor a stark contrast to his own, and a foul gothic tune melodically slipped from his mouth to stain the air with its familiarity. It brought forth an image, however fleeting it was; and Vornskr could not help but chuckle in recognition.

"She sung the same melody for the child, and now both of them are no more." He smoothly unhooked the lightsaber from his side, holding the bladed hilt aloft before he activated the crimson blade that bathed both of them in a glow the texture of gore. The burning light only further exasperated his features, drawing dark shadows across every crease and corner of his mutilated face, turning his visage into something from a nightmare.

"Shall I send you to her?"

 

[Darth Voracitos]

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

The Dark Lord resting upon the ramp casually brought his expensive drink to his lips, when the greatest atrocity to mankind had been enacted upon his innocent fine wine, tipped farther up than his careful hands had commanded the glass to rest at, forced the silky but deceptively powerful fine wine of strawberries, red cherry fruit, cedar, spice, cola and clove aromas, delightfully earthy in flavour with seductive mushroom and forest floor notes, painstakingly crafted by a winery who had the heart and effort to handle the finicky grape that produced it, providing its thin skin with ample warmth for it to ripen fully... was atrociously forced to assault his nostrils and invade the capacity of his gullet to cause him to choke!

After coughing a few times, in a fit of rage that shook his jiggling mass of his cheeks, he threw down the wine glass, shattering it upon the floor in vicious fury, as the indignant Lord looked upon his stained violet silk robes with that putrid mixture of crimson. Roaring, his eyes flashed with their royal purple glint towards Ordo, and one hand was thrust out as the lightsaber returned into his folds, producing a menacingly think meaty stream of greedy viridian energy gluttonously devouring the air space between Ordo and the Dark Lord, that highlighted the whole room in its sinful hue, that Sith Lightning clashing with the indigo coloring of its originator.

"THAT WAS PINOT NOIR YOU UNCULTURED SWINE!"

 

[Chastity Lunelle]

Objective: A
Location: Ground floor of 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

At the threat that the wicked slaver might cut off her hair, Chastity's mouth hung open in outrage. Then, she clapped it shut and narrowed her silver eyes, ready to sting him with a verbal tirade. With a cold tilt of his head, the creature fired his pistol at her, and wincing, she parried with her plasma blade. Unlike a blaster, the projectile exploded against the beam of her saber, and instead of pinging off the edge, flew everywhere. Luckily, Chastity's cortosis armor plates protected her from the burning globs of chemicals, which now hung on her chest plate, causing some minimal erosion. Her eyes widened as she returned her saber to a defensive position across her torso. Sithspit! Her lightsaber velocities never covered slugthrowers. Was she ever winging it.

Thoughts of Connor and his battle with the female Dark Jedi shot through her mind. Worry marred her smooth, young brow. Was he alright out there? The thought that something would happen to him was too unbearable to entertain. Chastity fought the the urge to run through the Citadel's blast doors and out into the snow, not stopping until she found him again. Her sister, Setzi was out there somewhere, too, and who knew what kind of state she was in.

Focus, Chast, focus. If this were Fabio, you'd be trampled by now. Do something!

The Padawan gathered the Force around her just like she was taught, letting it flow through her muscles. Moving her lightsaber to one hand, she sent a burst of telekinetic energy through her outstretched arm, aiming to blast her opponent with a powerful gust of the Force. If he did not thwart her blow, it would be strong enough to sweep him off his feet.

"I will be no one's slave!"

 

[Jsc]

Obj: B
Location: Mess Hall, 1st Story, ODCC
Allies: 0 Silver Rangers
Vs: [member="Condor"] p5 / 0 Merc Doods

Since attempting to win a duel via NPCs sounded dumb to her writer right about now. Roberts did the unconventional. She would clear the room.

___

As the balcony fell, the Jedi Master knelled down and closed her eyes. Placing just two fingers against the cold hall's littered floor. A jetpack roared and yet still she remained perfectly still. Gunshots sounded and triggers were pulled. Yet still with only two fingers, she remained. The Rangers dashed, the ceiling gave way, and mercenary doods were relieved of their incoming cover fire. Chaos insinuated. Yet still. Roberts remained knelling. Steady as a statue until the very last moment when gravity would overtake her. Then in a flash. The whole room went white.

The falling balcony shattered. gravity gave way, and soldiers were thrown from their roosts. A heavenly walkway was smashed into a thousand forms as an invisible wave of energy pushed through it and blasted the poor material into oblivion. A shockwave of force that expanded even into the walls. Unseen by the naked eye but felt by all. The room went white and every poor soldier in the room was thrown violently away. Sending both friend and foe smashing into walls, tables, hallways, and counter tops. Their unconsciousness and obscurity followed quietly behind. No. No mere soldier would win this duel. It was nap time for them. Yet in the aftermath of the roaring Force's magic, still the battle lingered. Debris, dust, iron flecks, and wooden pieces came sailing down upon the bodies with woeful abandon. Like feathers in the storm. Not only had the mess hall lost it's balcony. It had just lost all it's soldiers too.

Except for just two.

The Jedi Master stood up slowly from the ground. The floor around her in a perfect circle was absolutely clean. Not even the dust fell at the epicenter of her magicks. Just a broken smoking helm were twin pistols had been carefully accurate. Two smoldering holes in the back of her helmet caused the Jedi Warrior to removed the utility and throw it aside. She had no use for broken things. Revealed was a tall, pale human woman with glittering blue hair. Her smoking helmet rolled along the dusted ground and was silent. She, was not.

"That's enough Prime. ...It's just you and me now."

She tossed her carbine aside and cracked her knuckles with distaste. She had liked those soldiers. They were good men. Unlike this one. He had chosen the wrong side. Mercenary or not. So, frowning at the male behind the scarred and pitted pillar, she decided it was time to offer a resolution. All the while a different battle raged forward deeper inside the complex,

"Surrender yourself to the Silver Order, Prime, and you shall be treated will honor. The Code forbids the destruction of a prisoner of war. No matter who violent they may be. However, ...Resist in your violence and this soldier will do as necessary. This Invasion will be put to it's end. And unless you give yourself to me now? So will you."

Dashing monologue of sexiness complete. The strange Jedi woman ignited a blue lightsaber and remained standing in the center circle of the room. Oh baby. It was 1v1 time now. His move.

 

[Condor]

Objective: B
Location: ODCC Mess Hall
Enemies: [member="Karen Roberts"]
Allies: None
Post: 5

Condor whole-heartedly agrees with the plan. His NPCs were outnumbered anyway
____________________________________
Condor had just made it behind the pillar when an intense white light enveloped the entire mess hall. He shielded his eyes with his hand, and even then the light was blinding. The shockwave from the Jedi slammed into the pillar, and a crack ran like lightning up the near side. It was a breath away from toppling over and squashing him like a bug. It was best to get out of there before anything bad happened.

He walked out from behind in the pillar, surveying the now empty mess hall. Empty except for the Jedi, of course. She was standing there, lightsaber in hand, helmetless and glaring at him. He loaded a new clip into his rifle as she started talking, not really paying attention. It was always the same. Surrender yourself this, surrender yourself that. Didn't anybody know that he didn't care about who won as long as he got paid? Mercenaries are mercenaries wherever you go, and unless you can double their pay, at the least, they'll fight for their original client. Clip loaded, he finally started paying attention to what she was saying. Giving himself up? Yep, that was the usual alright. Treated with honor? He doubted it. And his name was not "Prime". She had him pegged all sorts of wrong. Time for the counter-monologue.

"First off, the name's Condor, not 'Prime,'" he began, keeping his eyes locked on her and her sparkly blue hair. "And second, I highly doubt you will 'treat me with honor.' I know how much you Jedi hate mercenaries such as myself. The only way I'm giving myself up to you is if you can pay double what I've been offered by the Primeval. Anything less and it stains my reputation. Anything more and, well, I just get more. Pay me in wampas, credits, ammo, sex, whatever you want. Then I'll give myself up. If you can't afford it, then at least you can pay with your life." He readied his gun as he finished, cautiously awaiting her response. More talking was good; it gave him time to think, and potentially more money. If he had to kill her, it would be a shame, but it was nothing personal.

 

[Jsc]

Obj: B
Location: Mess Hall, 1st Story, ODCC
Allies: 0
Vs: [member="Condor"] p6

She seemed to tilt her head. Either with curiosity or confusion? He just wouldn't know. However, through the Force she could almost sense he was telling the truth.

"Very well then. Condor. ...You'll forgive my sudden entrance. I assumed you were a Primal invader attempting to claim sovereignty over this dark world. My apologies."

The Jedi gestured to her fallen men and the disaster of a room they had created. It was kind of a big whoops. If you could call it that.

"I am Jedi Master Roberts. Affiliate of the Silver Sanctum and Warrior of the Jedi Academy. I bid you welcome to Ziost, mercenary. ...Now. Name the price of your surrender. But do so quickly. For a war lingers just beyond these timid walls that will shatter this white earth for generations to come. Do not let the gravity dissuade you from your decision here and now."

She raised her sword to point at him,

"Money or not. You stand on fragile ground."

If she could buy him, she would. Jedi were not completely ruthless combatants. They could be sensible if a conclusion presented itself. Besides. What was money to a Jedi? Her armor was phrik and her disruptor was legendary. Yet these too she had discarded when they were spent and meaningless. What was the world to a woman who only desired heaven? What was gold to the gods?

As she spoke her senses tingled outward of her form. Sensing the room, the men, the man, and the war without these fragile walls. How this Condor chided her patience. What was money to this planet now.

 

[Damian Starchaser]

Objective: B, Beat [member="Sage Bane"] with his own arm
Location: Somewhere in the Orbital Defense Station
Allies: Silver Jedi
Enemies: Sage Bane
Gear:
Uhg. Whatever I listed earlier. Look I’m talking with my opponent like a human being and being decent so I’m not writing this anymore.

Damian kept his senses sharp and attuned to the presence of the darksider. As the great shadow approached he felt a shiver in his spine and then… nothing. The aura shifted into something else. He squinted his eyes as the dark presence warped into a bright shine.
It wasn’t long after that when the door opened up. Damian had a gut reaction and darted forward towards the wounded Jedi. Then again….

He stopped just before he reached the man and frowned. “I can’t help you,” he said looking back down the hallway. “There is a darksider who cloaked himself behind you. He’s coming fast down that hallway, if I stop to help you now I will be vulnerable against him. I’ll defeat him and then help you.”

But Damian wasn’t without any feelings, despite his suspicions. He pulled out a medpack and threw it over at the man raising his little ion blaster down the hall waiting for the attack to come.