A Good Day to Die Hard [Republic Invasion of Balmorra]

[Nolan Detta]

Objective: PVP
Location: Balmorra Arms Factory, ground floor
Enemis: [member="Lucas Gravois"] [member="Trin Gravois"]
Enemies: [member="Alyona Volkovna"]
Gear in bio

As Nolan neared his squish target, he was pleased to see her laying on her back. The Sith tried a dirty Sith trick aimed at the round tables, but that wasn't going to work. Everyone knew that Mandos wore Beskar jock straps, it's how they ensured a family after wartime. But Nolan had forgotten his, frak!

Quickly the Wreckingball hit the reverse thrusters and slowed himself enough to rotate his hips and land body first on top of the Sith girl.

"Belly Flop!" Nolan's hand would go to grab the blade of the saber and move it out of the way, sparing his future set of extra children. We're he to successfully land on the Sith, over 300lbs of man and metal would slam into the squishy body of the devious Sithling. With his other hand, he'd activate the flamethrower once more and aim to cook the Sith underneath him.

 

[Keira Priest]

Location: Balmorra Arms Factory
Objective: PVP
Allies: [member="Rexus Drath"], the Republic
Enemies: [member="Countess of Báthory"], [member="Kala Maedrin"], One Sith
Gear: Blast vest (basic ballistic protection), lightsaber (in signature).

Never in her life had Keira claimed to be a Jedi. In fact, she endeavored to separate herself from them, sever any ties that would link her to that sect of peacekeepers so that she was free to act without another mantle hanging over heard head that she was expected to upkeep at all costs. Of course, joining the Republic likely hadn't helped any, but that had been for a cause external from her ultimate will. Rest assured, she was far from the paragon of any righteous cause, let alone one as supposedly noble as the Jedi Order seemed to support. No, she functioned independently from most every and any power aside from her own skewed morality and instinct.

It was true, however, that she wasn't pure of heart by any means. Life would be ended rather unceremoniously where and when it was necessary, with little regard to the immediate reactions her action garnered. Which was likely why the Force Light had an effect on her, thought it was one of the minor sort given that she didn't allow the darkness to retain as firm a hold on her as it had in the past. It was a cold burn, one that manifested on the fringes of her subconscious. A grimace flashed briefly across her face, but she shook it off just as she would any injury, able to feel the drain it had on her ethereal talents. That would prove troublesome later, but for now she had bigger fish to fry.

Those bigger fish appeared in the form of shrapnel from the slab of metal she had avoided previously, and she just managed to conjure up a shield comprised of the Force, one crudely made and hastily erected, no doubt in part because of Rexus' own attack that had inflicted collateral damage. Shreds of the torn and twisted pieces of metal still burst through, most of them colliding with her blast vest, one piece cutting across the back of her calf, prompting a string of curses in Old Corellian. No more time was given to consider the relative severity of the wound before Rexus fired the grenade, and she distanced herself from the blast zone, giving the projectile an extra telekinetic shove while keeping it on lock with the same ethereal grasp.

 

[Sage Bane]

Objective: PVP
Location: Balmorra Arms Factory, ground floor
Allies: [member="Draco Vereen"] [member="Vrag"]
Enemies: [member="Mantic Dorn"]
Gear: Dark Armor, Sessile Trio-staff, The Blade of the Satvas, Lightsaber

At this point, the sheer numbers of Sith in the factory was overwhelming enough that the Jedi had simply become hapless bait to scores of hungry Darksiders. Like slippery carp, the Sith were descending on them, voraciously ripping them to shreds with both saber and blade. Sage's current engagement was no different. The Jedi Knight's Force signature was a waning heartbeat on a flat-lining victim. The Knight had earned Sage's respect in this fight; he was a brave soul. He was facing three very powerful luminaries of the One Sith. The Knight had Draco Vereen swinging his Bes'kar maul, Vrag aiming to sever him in two from behind, and of course, the man was dancing directly with the Lord of Thorns. Too bad he would not live much longer to crow about those achievements.

As the man stood firm, his blue blade like a thin aegis against the Monsters of the Sith, two of Sage's amphistaves would lash out at the other man's legs, aiming to hook their wriggling bodies around calves and unlock his footing. The third would attempt to coil around the other man's saber and yank his blade right out of his hands. Tasting a pleasant gush of his own blood from his wounded tongue, Sage finally let his saber pommel snap into his human hand. Fingers lovingly caressed the activation switch, as lovingly ignited his crimson blade and sliced, attempting to sever the man's own saber arm right from his body.

Perhaps when the Balmorran Factory battle was over, he would scoop up the corpse as a trophy. The Knight could be preserved, flesh pinned open for display like an exotic insect, and then hung in the foyer of his Fresian palace, framed like a masterpiece.

 

[Vrag]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UxFH22-l0QM​

Location: Balmorra Arms Factory
Objective: Ground PvP
Allies: [member="Draco Vereen"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Eralam"] | [member="Khallesh"] | OS
Enemies: [member="Mantic Dorn"] | [member="Minna"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Aston Jacobs"] | GR
Equipment:

Spoiler

Lightsaber
Chom-Huun
Vulcan Blaster Rifle + disruptor
Vonduun Skerr Ygdris
Vonduun Skerr Dhaladii
Blorash jelly, Firejelly, Magma pebbles, Plasma eel
Thud bugs, Razor bugs, Blast bugs, Snap bugs
Wrist-mounted melee shield

She let out a frustrated grunt as her red blade was intercepted in the last moment by a fortuituous interloper, one whose lightsaber was as blue as the waning sky outside. Before Vrag could redirect her strike to slice at the newcomer, [member="Minna"] was gone again, and the firrerreo would've tried to slam her into the ground out of sheer spite were it not for her mandalorian ally moving into close range, battering her primary target with his imposing mace as if it were a ram.

She eyed the weapon appreciatively as it left its mark on the Jedi's armor, but the the Pinky was upon their quarry once more like a scavenger descending upon a corpse, and Vrag seized her chance.

Her hand, already poised to grab the satchel and spill its deadly contents across the floor at an opportune moment, did just that, throwing the Blorash jelly underneath the Jedi as Sage did his very best to dislodge the man's footing and send him sprawling right on top of the hungry organism.

To seal the deal, the firrerreo would add another small tug of her own, attempting to yank the Jedi down with the Force even as her fellow Hand tried to jerk his legs up with the sessile triostaff that now served in place of his arm. And once he was grounded and stuck to the jelly… well, suffice to say that every story has an ending, and the Jedi would likely found his end was to be written by two blood-lusting Sith Lords in some nondescript hall of a Balmorran factory.

Because Force knows that Vrag would waste not a second to smite the dog when it was down.

 

[Laguz Vald]

Location: Balmorra
Allies: [member="Thanith Gumara"] | [member="Eliza Lunelle"] | [member="Darth Carach"] | [member="Darth Nephthys"] | [member="Catalys Maijora"]
Enemies: [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Lash"] | [member="Thane Drexel"] | [member="Juwiela Melec"] | [member="Tålamod Shapochka"]
Equipment:

Spoiler

• 
  TS-1 Sniper Riflehttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/52677-ts-1-rifle/?p=790997
  
• 
  Directed Chargehttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/62365-saeva-directed-charge/
  

Fleet:

Spoiler

x1 http://starwarsrp.net/topic/68138-primeval-class-star-destroyer/ Balagoth
x2 http://starwarsrp.net/topic/25753-hood-class-fire-support-cruiser/ Anja II & Anja III
x1 http://starwarsrp.net/topic/22727-partisan-class-technological-warfare-cruiser/ Juma Juice
x1 http://starwarsrp.net/topic/49029-ruin-class-siege-cruiser/ Getting Over Anja
x1 http://starwarsrp.net/topic/53457-boar-class-assault-cruiser/ Kiran
x1 http://starwarsrp.net/topic/67008-time-rift-class-superior-ew-assault-destroyer/ Rusty
Total length: 6365 m

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AA64eCt2zs​

​

It was becoming rather confusing, at this point.

The enemy’s decision to keep firing at the constantly retreating Primeval fleets even though their sensors were jammed, their targeting useless, and their vision impaired by the pure, unadulterated inky blackness of space; it was, indeed, quite confusing.

But Lord Keres wasn’t a man who dealt with confusion, or cared much about it in the first place. Certainly, he could wonder about it later, and share the amusing story with some military types over a tumbler of some nice alcoholic beverage, but this was neither the time nor the place for such musings.

With all of his fleet moving away from the enemy at their top speed, they kept said enemies in that constant range limbo where the Hellbores could barrage their faltering shields time and time and time again, but their own weapons fell woefully short of dealing any damage. It was quite the enviable position to be in, truth be told, and the Commander even allowed himself a small smile when nobody was looking.

To make matters worse for their pursuing opposition, the EW systems were still very much online, and still very much wreaking havoc with the enemy sensors and targeting, which rendered what little fire came their way -- regardless of the source -- terribly, terribly inaccurate. Because being sensorless in space was like being blind and deaf at the same time, and neither the blind nor the deaf had ever entered many sharpshooting competitions. With good reason, too.

Lord Keres, however, did not share their jammed woes, and neither did the Balagoth’s weapon systems, which they would announce with a very particular refocusing of the Hellbores’ fire. More specifically, the AXIOS would direct the infernal cannons at the flagship of the Imperial fleet as it did exactly what the AI had wanted it to do in the first place; shut down its systems. All of its systems.

The second this had occurred, the AI had adjusted the target, shifting from the two smaller vessels to the vulnerable star destroyer at the helm, because AXIOS knew full well what all systems encompassed. Whilst the ship was recycling its shields, the Hellbores would send their regards straight at the command deck.

Goodbye.

The rest of the Primeval-class’ weapons would focus on the disoriented squadrons flitting about in its vicinity, firing at the bugs with an explosive, oversized, and awfully precise a fly swatter.

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

All ships continue pace
More minor shield damage to Balagoth
Hellbore cannons firing at Termagant command deck
Six HELIX warheads at incoming fighter squadrons
EW attempting to jam the fighter squadron’s sensors and targeting

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Location: Balmorran Arms Factory
Gear: In signature (Grenades 2x Force Breakers, 2x EMP Grenades, 2x Anti-Force User Flash Bangs)
Objective: Fight somebody
Allies: [member="Vrag"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Eralam"]
Enemies: [member="Minna"]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NONOZGGejb8​

The Jedi went to his knees, no doubt his insides burning and internal bleeding starting up. Vrag and Sage Bane were more than enough to handle a wounded Jedi Knight. It was basically feeding time for them. I was being useful, but not as useful as I could be elsewhere. The female Jedi that had darted in. My eyes tracked her carefully, watching where she ran off to as the Jedi Knight stumbled before the onslaught of two Sith Lords. Let’s see if I can earn my pay and maybe just impress these two to be willing to pay just a bit more. “I’ll get her.” I said through the annunciator, side stepping out of combat range while the Jedi reeled from my jab to his stomach. Best of luck with the internal bleeding, bub.

Once back enough I took off at a sprint, keeping my eyes moving, tracking the Jedi and his nearby allies through the Force. Keeping aware of what was going on. Then I found her once again, chatting with a Droid, no…. a Shard.

End of the line Sweetie. My eyes locked on her from behind my visor, my senses reaching into her. I sought that little spot in the brain where the Force flowed in humans. Every human and near human had it, and at one time in history it had been how the New Jedi Order had identified candidates. Now it was the source of all her suffering. The Light Side is a lie. There is only the Force, and it favors only the powerful. Around the font of her power I constructed a barrier of my will to hold back the tide of the Force from her. It was taxing and required my complete focus to temporary block out her connection, and even then there were cracks in every wall, but with any luck it would depreciate her abilities and reduce their effectiveness. If the Shard truly was an ally, hopefully his job would be that much easier.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Dis should be Ag. Curse Alts and all their temptation.
Location: Gorinth Canyon (PVP/NPC, C objective)
Allies: None
Enemies: Republic, [member="Alva Calvarona"]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d05tQrhNMkA​

<Next up on BRK Ninety One point One the bull, Boot Scootin Boogie!> The music started to flow from the droid. Terrible days, but the woman spent her respite busy picking up the Droid’s lightsaber, granting it ample time to analyze her and repair. Phylactery droids covered the arm, and when one cuts wire that has yet to be pulled taunt, most of it falls away, but there were still a strand or two on the droid’s arm.

She started manipulating the strands with the Force. Curse that magic. The droid’s scanners located what he needed. He snapped off a shot with the Charric and darted behind a large stone, much like one of the ones she had used on him early. Without line of sight she would find it incredibly difficult to manipulate the threads, and this would buy the Phylactery time to remove what strands remained. The strands had cut kind of deep though, damaging some of the circuitry. The spinning function on this wrist didn’t work anymore. How unfortunate.

Stalemate. The terrible truth of the matter was that she was untouchable and the droid had resorted to simply out last her. He could go for days, weeks even at this pace. How long could she last? A day? Two? Sometimes it was the patient hunter that took down the biggest game, even if she was far from the most dangerous prey.

 

[Veris Tagge]

Location: Balmorra
Objective: Ground 2 (NPC/PVP)
Allies: Imperials and Republic
Enemies: One Sith and Prime [member="Sinistra"]

The massive weight of the Widowmaker thundered as its foot pads stepped slammed onto the surface of Balmorra. The muffled purr of its engines shaowed by the whine of servos fighting against the mass of the war beast no deploying onto the besieged world. Around him the forces of the Galactic Empire 222nd filled the wide landing zone just outside the cannon. They had lost two At-fats on the way down to flak which enraged Tagge. The thought of his men burning as the ship crashed into the cliffs in near the city. He would honor those brave souls when he was done here. For now there was no time to count the dead. The toll would be paid and the sum was growing by the second as the forces of the joint Republic Imperial assault force now baring down on the world of Balmorra and the Sith who infested it.

"Major Janier, you are a go for insertion."

A sharp double click over the com was the only affirmative signal Tagge got from his second. The might of the armored corps now deployed as the bait while the real assault team made their move. IN the distance the sky filled with contrails as the thirty six MAAT gunships made their move. On their ventral hulls Light walkers and quad Recon Speeders sat waiting for deployment while in their hold the Stormtroopers of the 222nd readied for war. The thirty six gunships ferried their cargo down into the atmosphere as a seventy degree pitched dive. Around the flak exploded like the gate of hell had been opened and Ceberus himself spat out at them like fly's. Around them explosion shook the armored hulls and through the crews and passengers around as the sharp dive took them closer and closer to the southern tip of the canyon and Gorinth Plateau.

Major Janier looked out at the men of his platoon ready for a fight and calm as only storm trooper training could make a person. The men and women of 222nd were the best the Empire had at rapid insertion and siege warfare. drilled in all manors and types of assault and siege warfare the 222nd was the modern day descendants of the once great and infamous Novacorp. Their burgundy armor signified them as Marines but they were killing machined forged in the fire of storm trooper and storm commando training and not they were let loose on the sith below.

"OK were thirty second out. We have five second for the armor deployment then another ten second to get out and on the ground. maat will cover us and support us but they will be sitting ducks if they cannot get airborne again. Now lock, load and kill everything that doesn't look like the guy beside you."

The transports shook as flak exploded around them. A thud shook the craft as the transport next to it took a direct missile strike and exploded. A second thud in the distance was could be heard over the repulsors screaming to fight the speed downward dive. A second later the transport shook violently as it leveled off to deploy the AT-AW strapped to his belly. The side doors slide open and instantly fire from defenders slammed into one of the troopers standing closest to the door. The men next to him paid not mind to their fallen brother and jumped from the MAAT S90 recklessly running into the frenzy of blaster fire for the glory of the Empire.


Forces

Spoiler

Assault Force
Distraction force at republic landing zone Not being used in battle acting as rear command for assault force landing on southern canyon. just for fluff
18 AT-FAT walkers (Assault, Anti Heavy vehicle)
24 AT-STM Mk II Walkers (Anti-Light Vehicle, anti-perssonel)
12 AT-AW Walkers (Artillery, Anti-vehicle)
6 AT-AA Walkers (Anti-Air, anti-personnel)
50 Quad Recon Speeders (Reconnaissance, Anti-personnel)
10 Bolder Dozers (Excavation)
14,800 (48 companies) Storm Troopers
8,400 Armored Assault Forces (4 regiments)

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

Assault force at Gorinth Plateau vs Sinistra
36 S90 MAAT Assault Transports
1440 Stormtroopers
12 AT-STM Mk II Walkers
4 AT-AW Walkers
20 Regent Quad Recon Speeders

Air Support from Termagant
3 Bomber Squadrons

Summery

Spoiler

deployed rear command at republic landing zone
Sent in air cav assault force
deployed armor and troops on southern outskirts of the canyon on the Gorinth Plateau
Lost 3 MAAT transports, 120 troopers, 1 ATAW, and 2 Regent Quad Recon Speeders to Flak

 

[Komo]

Location: Balmorran Arms Factory
Objective: Survive. (PVP)
Enemies: [member="Cyril Grayson"]
Allies: [member="Enoch Zambrano"]

Her guess was right. Enoch was sent flying, leaving her with just the Jedi. Greta had no doubts by now that she was fighting a Jedi Master. An exceptionally skilled one at that. The chances of her besting someone as skilled as him was nearly impossible without a divine intervention of some sort. It was not like the Dark Lord was going to appear out of no where and give her a hand, so seeing it as what it is, the Sith knight would probably lose.

However, that didn't meant that she was giving up. Nope, not giving up, not yet. Not planning to surrender as well, definitely not that too. She would muster all she can, steeling her resolve and determination as she faced the Jedi. Survival has overtaken victory in terms of priority, and years of hard work would see it pay off today. She knows it will.

Her blows fueled by fury and rage managed to penetrate through the Jedi's defenses, slicing through his armour. Greta then watched as one of blue lightsaber he held fell from his grasp, struck by one of the savage blows rendering it useless for the duration of the battle. She thought that gave her an advantage, but her joy was short-lived.

Grayson then began talking again once more, in the intention of goading or mocking her, it seems. "Mistake me for a Jedi? Joking are we? My toes are laughing."

Jedi Grayson continued, asking about her lack of zealotry and indicating that perhaps they could be friends. Greta retorted instantly. "Oh, there's still plenty of zealotry hidden within, and if this is how you treat your potential friends, I'll love to see what you do to your enemies."

The Jedi master then grabbed another saber from his belt. The source of her unhappiness. The advantage she thought she had promptly evaporated.

Anger tantrums were on their way and Greta was this close to throwing a fit.

 

[Aston Jacobs]

Objective PvP
Location Arms factory
Allies: GR,
Enemies OS,[member="Khallesh"]

While more allies for the Sith had arrived, and it seemed an ally for the Jedi, it still seemed like things were going...okay. After the swipe that had deflected the whip and causing it to return, the vong had geared up for another strike, which those staffs of theirs seemed to be very handy to them, and also quite a nuisance to their opponents. However nuisances could be easily dealt with, and for one as hopeful as Aston was, he could see it a mile away.

While he was hurt, that was the key, fighting through the pain. The first however, the Jedi Padawan raised up his blade to deflect the whip once again, yet as it wrapped around his blade. He realized that he was in trouble as he felt himself start the motion forward from the vongs directions. However, the Padawan quickly disengaged his lightsaber the blade returning to its hilt in less than a second, as his right foot planet firmly on the ground to stabilize himself as his left foot remained back.

Relying on his quickness, he was able to bring his now engaged lightsaber which lit up in just the same amount of time as it disengaged earlier met the other part of her staff, as she twisted and the blade and tips had met and struck briefly aiming to halt the momentum directly. And thus immediately his saber left her stab move from the left side and his lightsaber blade moved in an upwards motion, essentially looking to cut her from bottom to top, right at her center body. Thus the padawan was relieved, as it seemed he had gotten some small aide from an ally.

While that was good news, bad news remained the same as they were, definitely outnumbered.

 

[Commander Lusk]

Location: Dropping into canyon behind [member="Ali Hadrix"]
Objective: Take the canyon
Allies: Republic
Enemies: One Sith [member="Isamu Baelor"] [member="Adekos"] [member="Yurzhoc Shai"]
Gear: Same as NPCs
NPCs

Spoiler

150 Troopers
50 Combat engineers
40Combat Medics
20 Snipers
40 Comm operators

When it rains, it pours.​

Lusk and his men's head shook as they plummeted through the atmosphere in drop pods, their bodies rattling as the G force took control of everything. They had jumped right out of the frying pan and directly into the fire here on Balmorra with little time to rest from their last engagement with the Sith. Right now though, the clones were needed and the majority of their forces weren't close enough to engage on Balmorra. So it came down to three hundred clones, three hundred souls born and bred to fight this war.

"Supreme commander we are coming in on your five, QRF is a go." Lusk barely said as the pressure continued to mount.

The pods pierced the atmosphere and soon clouds and land were quickly showing up from the Windows. Lusk took a deep breath and grabbed his pulse rifle with the Sith killers loaded inside of it.

"We do not fear death! We do not turn back! This is our time! Kill them all boys and girls!" Lusk said over his comms as they drew ever closer.

The various pods soon after slammed into the ground of the canyons edge a few meters from Ali's forces. There was a slight pause but the doors kicked open and the clones of Preliat Mantis and Willa Isard came forth from them.

"FOR THE REPUBLIC!!" Lusk screamed as he picked up his rifle and charged forth into battle.

Stampeding clones quickly gained cover on various rock formations and started to line up targets and open fire on the battlefield from their various positions. But they weren't going to do any damage until they had orders and battlefield awareness.

"Where do you need us Ma'am?!" Lusk said on his comms to [member="Ali Hadrix"] as he ripped rounds down range with his rifle.

 

[Catalys Maijora]

Objective: Fleeting.
Location: Aboard command ship.
Allies: [member="Laguz Vald"]
Enemies: [member="Tålamod Shapochka"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Lash"]
Fleet: x1 Primeval-class Star Destroyer | x2 Time Rift-class Star Destroyers | x1 Hood-class Cruiser | x1 Partisan-class Cruiser | x2 Spewer-class Carriers | x4 Gulandi-class Escort Frigates
Length: 6650m

The enemy still seemed insistent on their current plan of attack.

Perhaps they were growing impatient? Either way, Catalys cared little on how they acted; so far they were reacting favourably. Without their own electronic warfare, they hadn't a proper countermeasure, and trying to fire by eye was going to be difficult. Someone had to do the math. Trying to coordinate information between organics wasn't going to cut it without the help of computers. So long as their targeting systems, sensors, and communications were being jammed they'd have a difficult time trying to land a proper hit.

Suffice to say--thanks to the concept of space--the Primeval fleet did not maneuver on a single plane, although the formation moved in a single direction, thanks to the coordination and combined efforts between the AXIOS A.I. and Partisan-class cruiser, their movements were seamless. Each ship adjusted left, right, up, and down as they continued to pull back. So judging a hit based on previous fire information would rely purely on what they gathered moments ago, meaning that it all changed again the moment they attempt to attack.

Verdict? They're not gaining any accuracy. The full-spectrum jamming would be able to effect incoming fighters, too.

"Fire on that Star Destroyer, I want it down and out." It looked like the enemy decided to recycle their systems. If they were rebooting all systems that meant shield controls, too.

The hellbore cannons unloaded their payload on the ISD mark III, going for spread as Laguz' ship targeted their bridge, to avoid crossfire.

Any attack squadrons coming into range would certainly come under fire from point defense and auto turrets.

Spoiler: Actions

>Taking minor glancing shots from enemy fire.
>Radiation sensors continually interfered by sustained fire.
>Continually moving out of standard 'long-ranges.'
>Firing hellbores at the ISD III.

 

[Minna]

Location: Balmorra Arms Factory
Objective: Repel the overwhelming darkness
Allies: [member="Mantic Dorn"] [member="Kiyron"]
Enemies: [member="Eralam"] [member="Draco Vereen"]

War was not something for formalities, it came only out of necessity. The need to fight for peace or balance was not something to take lightly. Minna did not reply with her name, instead simply staring at the droid. As it let itself be known in the force she could sense that ambiguity, no complete allegiance to the darkness, rather a false neutrality. Fighting for the Sith was reason enough to believe the Shard was lost to darkness, even when she herself was with the Grey she would never have fought the Sith's battles.

Leaning forward slightly, Minna was about to lunge into her attack. However, a sudden claustrophobia in the force came over her, as if it had become trapped and was being pulled from her surroundings. Coldness then followed, the absence of the mystical force reminding her of her past failures and falls. They didn't get to her though, as a simple flicker of her gaze spotted the source of the problem. An armoured man, one of those who had been assaulting the Jedi earlier. As much as he was turning the tide already, she atleast knew her ally had less to deal with.

Now, with the vacuum of power around her, she re-evaluated her attack. Ataru would be no use without the aide of the force's full power, and without it's strength she was at a disadvantage. With this in mind a singular hand came down, gripping the blade at a low angle infront of her. Makashi was an effortless form, one that would play to her natural advantage of agility. Once she had loosen her posture and relaxed, she stepped forward into her attack. Her attacks came in from a straight line, as she positioned herself sideways to be a smaller target. In line with her opponent she focused her strikes on his right side, sidestepping around him while her offensive kept him on the defense, allowing her to reposition herself towards the armored monster. Her final strike against the robot would be a heavy-handed slap of her blade, coming diagonally from above aiming to buy precious few seconds where he would have to recoil from the force of the attack. In those seconds she dashed back, aiming a flurry of low sweeps and slices at the armored man who seemed to be causing her discomfort, hopefully breaking his concentration and bringing him into the fight. This way she could even the odds abit and regain the force as an ally...

 

[Antoir Setrrin]

OBJECTIVE: PVP- Don't Die Again
LOCATION: Balmorra Arms Factory
ALLIES: GR Folks + Allies
ENEMIES: OS Bubs {[member="Reverance"], [member="Darth Ophidia"]}

Spoiler: EQUIPMENT

ARMOR:

Spoiler: EQUIPMENT

• x1: Bodo Baas Gunbelt
• x1: Sasori Bodyglove
• x1: THI Revenant Armor
• x1: Exemplar Energy Shield

GRENADES:

• x2: CyroBan Grenade
• x2: EMP Grenade
• x2: Thermal Detonator

BLASTERS:

• x1: Ven's Custom Shotgun
• x1: Dissuader KD-30

MELEE:

• x1: Vibro Electro Blade
• x1: Standard Silver Dual-Phase Lightsaber

OTHER:

• x3 Ammo Clips: AP Shotgun Rounds
• x1 Sithspawn Body: Ven's Guardian Body

Spoiler: Music

[media]https://soundcloud.com/clau_m/clau-m-in-memoriam[/media]

Not enough thought had been put into her maneuver. That much was clear from the moment she saw her opponent move. As fast as her jets were, the force made him faster. Until he grew tired- if he ever did- she would have to rely on her skill and her resilience. Though, as her fist went sailing through thin air, she did wonder if that would be enough. Perhaps not. She realized this as a familiar sound came calling to her, whispering its mad teachings into her ears. It made her think of the Horde. Of the people who had turned her into a monster.

And she became as angry as she was afraid. A rush of feelings filled her head as her momentum carried her forward, even as the amphistaff came charging towards her. The sensation of her armor tearing didn't seem to reach her brain. Even as the creature bit at her bodyglove she seemingly paid it no heed, her mind a mangled mesh of emotions. I hate the Vong, she thought, remembering the fights she had with them long ago, during her last stint as a Republic soldier. I hate the Vong, she thought, recalling what they had done to revive her.

"I hate the Vong," she growled, reliving the moment where she broke free of her cage. Ven wanted to forget the experience. But there were lights behind her eyes, commanding her to reenact the disaster, the carnage, the crimson flood. And so her mind drew parallels where none should be found. It was a new incentive for her. A new reason to decimate her fellow combatant. The momentum had carried her forth, even as she turned once more to face her foe, but now it was her undying rage that would carry her onward.

Whether that would strengthen her or make her more reckless was yet to be determined. For a moment it seemed as if the warrior was going to stand still. That her surge of passion had led her astray. In reality a thought had popped into her mind, one that made the ache of her soul seem irrelevant. Unnecessary, even. There was a piece of equipment, or rather two pieces, that she had forgotten she had with her. Yet they had been there since the start of everything. A second of hesitation was worth the realization.

Even if she wasn't going to use her shotgun or her shield yet. But however long she had paused for (likely less than a second, really, considering how fast her mind typically processed combat) had been too long. It would have been enough for her opponent to start moving again. Regardless of the distance he might have traveled, the Mad Merc once again backpedaled. To some it would seem like a 'cowardly' move. In her mind it was far from that. Her specialty was close and mid-range combat. If the Sith's focus was close, as it seemed to be (to her, at least), then it made more sense for her to keep him at a distance.

Sound logic, really.

Still, he had proven himself to be a rather feisty speed-demon. Keeping space between them would require her to adjust her tactics. If she couldn't outrun him, then she'd have to outsmart him, outgun him, or outmaneuver him. From what she could tell he was an experienced, competent warrior, so the first would be difficult at best. And while she had a fair amount of strong equipment... he had already proven what he could do to her weapons. Left with only a low-quality option, the sell-sword opted for a potentially faulty mix of the three.

With a fragment of a plan forming in her mind, the mercenary kept going back until she hit one of the walls. There was a clear 'thud' as she impacted the structure. In the same moment her right hand would once more bring her sword up into a defensive position. But this time she didn't go to strike. Though, realistically, she wouldn't have much time to do anything. Unless the Sith had decided to stand still, he would have been able to reach her by then. And with her back quite literally against the wall, things were not looking well for the woman...

 

[Trin Gravois]

Objective: PVP
Location: Balmorra Arms Factory, ground floor
Allies: [member="Lucas Gravois"]
Enemies: [member="Nolan Detta"] [member="Alyona Volkovna"]
Gear: Zeyd-cloth robes over armorweave clothing, Blade of the Satvas, Lightsaber

With predatory reflexes, honed from sixty years of hunting for her food, Trin was lightning-quick. When she heard the sound of the reverse thrusters humming on ape man's jetpack, she ditched her saber and quickly rolled away from his belly flop, moving in almost a blur, scrambling to her feet. She wasn't going to be a Beskar pancake today. Uh-uh. Now on her feet and crouched, Trin saw her opportunity. Gathering the Force around her, she reached out with an Anzat-specific mind trick; if it hit him it would pour a seductive enthrallment into the pleasure centers of the man's brain. It was a common trick she used on potential victims right before she drained their soup. The mind trick should presumably leave the man still and slack-jawed, and if it worked she would attempt one more thing.

She and Lucas...well, they trained each other in a way. Their methods were unorthodox and mainly consisted of sister stalking brother until he got tired of it and turned on her. Then whole thing turned into attempted fratricide. Either way, the exercise was excellent practice for her Force skills. Among other things, the Anzat hybrid learned how to use the Force to fortify her muscles so greatly that her own petite limbs could be lethal killing machines.

The next thing Trin would do is pounce on the man's presumably still frame from behind. If allowed to latch onto his back, she would wrap her athletic thighs around his torso, grab his head in both her hands, and attempt to wrench it to the side until his neck snapped. The Sith were overrunning the factory, but Trin could care less. The sooner she killed this man, the sooner she could help Lucas with the silver-haired glowstick wench. Like ouroboros, the young woman's primordial desires always circled back to Lucas. Always back to Lucas.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Location[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]: Closing in on target[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Objective[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]: A[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Allies[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]: The One Sith - [member="Darth Nephthys"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Enemies[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]: The Republic - [member="Tålamod Shapochka"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Hunger. Craving. Desire. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Those were words that could describe the mindset of one Carach. Some Sith Lords craved for power, riches, an artifact here and there, some wished to perpetuate slaughter on a planetary or even galactic scale, but then… there was that rare individual who simply loved knowledge for knowledge’s sake. As Neph broke Kwrashhar on a physical level, her brother assaulted the dangling mess of fur on the metaphysical plane, his own mind wrapped itself around the foreignness of the Wookie and after finding the particular weaknesses… [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]digged into it, causing the creature’s pain to magnify on an unimaginable scale[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px], it was a surgical strike straight through the one cavity made apparent, before he was inside.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]So much history… so much pain and struggling. Shhhhhh, little, little pet, your pain will be over soon enough: just… show me what I want to know. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]To understand the allure of a mentalist expert was to [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]imagine[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] the words themselves. Picture yourself in the middle of a desert, you have been stranded there for days and you are [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]parched[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px], your throat raw and every fiber in your being wishing… [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]hungering[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]for the sweet release of some wet liquid. At that point in time you would even stoop as low as trying out… well, there was no need to get into the nitty grit of that particular disgrace. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]The point is: what happens when a man suddenly appears and in his hand a glass of pure unadulterated water. Do you pay attention to his burning eyes? To the malevolence that might be rolling away from him? Do you even [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]see[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] all those details as your eyes are drawn to the glass?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]And so it was with Kwrashhar - he experienced pure agony: physically and spiritually. He was denied the pleasure of slipping into unconsciousness and was threatened with an eternity of pain, can the parched man be faulted for taking the glass? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Could the wookie?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Four long seconds after that the empty husk of Kwrashhar fell to the ground, lifeless this time.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“We have what we came for, let’s go.” his mind would communicate that it would be better if she got on his back for the following trip. With her short limbs it would be inefficient at best to attempt that entire climb. [/SIZE]

 

[Darth Nephthys]

Location: Closing in on target
Objective: A
Allies: The One Sith - [member="Darth Nephthys"]
Enemies: The Republic - [member="Tålamod Shapochka"]

Their time together would bleed and blend the Sith Lord’s psyche as if one mind. Sharing knowledge was easier through a Force Bond, those ties that bind connecting Darth Carach and the diminutive Vahla allowing for them to move as one. Fight as one.

Live as one.

It once had been the same connection Sokara had shared long ago with her twin brother, Setesh. The Darth would mentally brace herself for the pain, but was surprised when there was none at the thought of her Onii-san. Orbs of crimson would pan up the great breadth of Darth Carach, and for a moment, time stood still.

Within her aspect she would take the few seconds to look at him. Really see him. Not as the Voice of the Dark Lord. Not as a Sith Lord. Not as Darth Carach. Not even as the hybrid product of Kiffar and Epicanthix legacy.

No, instead she saw the man.

Awareness hit her.

Demurely, the petite Vessel of the Chosen of Vahl would lower her gaze, as if she could not dare be caught in the act. Instead, that Yuuzhan Vong helm would pan towards the turbolift. The bond they shared would give her the pertinent information they would require. Access maintenance shafts, emergency routes, and finally, their objective.

Her lips would straighten into a thin line.

With a stride of purpose, the diminutive Darth would walk towards the gnarled twisted remains of the open turbolift door. Once upon the edge, the flow of air from the hum of the internal star destroyer’s air purifiers would blow against her.

// We climb. //

Came the singular thought.

For a casual observer, it would have been a rather curious scene. The Sith Lord would extend his large hand, and Nephthys would delicately take it upon his own. He would dwarf her in size, and the latch of his thumb as it curled over her own to help her climb onto his back was almost tender.

Curious things of those of the Dark.

With a summon of the Force, Darth Carach came behind her. He would pour the energy upon his palms. Power would pool in the shell of them, until the manipulation of the Force would allow him to mimic the power the Nightsisters of Dathomir called Touch of the Kiin’Dray.

Setting his hands upon the cool metal, his hands would fuse upon it much like sticky pads. The same effect would set upon his feet.

Just like that, he began to climb. The path was set within their minds, and the access wasn’t far. This was a Champion Class Vessel, crafted much like the Turbulent Class of the Imperial Remnant. From there they would continue on their path. Unyielding and without mercy.

 

[Darth Centax]

Location: Moving toward the canyon.
Objective: Countering [member="Commander Lusk"] - Hold the Canyon
Ground 2 (NPC/PVP)
Allies: The One Sith | [member="Adekos"] | [member="Yurzhoc Shai"] | [member="Isamu Baelor"]
Enemies: The Republic | [member="Ali Hadrix"] | [member="Commander Lusk"]
Personal Gear: Standard Sith Trooper Armor-X1 Series, Lightsaber,
Sonic blaster | Field Medical Kit | 4 x Ion grenades | Personal Shield

NPCs: Reserve Stormtrooper Battalion

Spoiler

Stormtrooper Reserve Battalion (200 Men Digging in)
AT-AT x 1 (Deploying)
AT-ST x 4 (Holding)
Tie Fighter Squadron x 2 (24/24) Close Air Support

[member="Commander Lusk"]. The republic moving such a large body of men into position hadn’t gone unnoticed by the Sith higher ups. Spotting the new approaching forces, a reserve stormtrooper battalion were moved from the rear into position to counter them, the large resounding steps of the walker at its head surely heard a mile away. Kylath was one of the many, his small squad nicknamed the Jedi killers had yet to earn their stripes but the two hundred or so stormtrooper reserve, moving up to greet the equivalent republic forces were everything from vets to newcomers depending on which part of the new battleline they faced.

Digging in amidst the bodies and the rubble, they were laying a variety of mines, traps, gun emplacements and other surprises for any new forces moving up from the front, purely there as a holding tactic for the new advance. Kylath, now known as Connar, was far from in command but had been given the task of advising troop movements from his vantage point. Though the reserves were outmatched man for man quite likely by the new arrivals, they did have the balancing advantaged of some light tie fighters streaking through the furballs overhead to zero in on where they were needed, as well as the imposing form of sith strength in the form of the armor. Which probably put the two new units at about even all things considered.

The fight for the canon heating up around them, the AT-AT turned its head looking toward the ridge line and began charging its forward guns. If the new republic forces wanted to come, the Sith were ready for them, but otherwise their attention wasn’t focused on the larger battle, only to defend themselves or push on the newcomers depending how it went.

[member="Commander Lusk"]​

 

[Eralam]

Location: Balmorra Arms Factory
Objective: Find leek, spin leek
Enemies: [member="Minna"]
Allies: [member="Draco Vereen"] and physics

https://youtu.be/kbbA9BhCTko

As the pressure of the unnamed Jedi's Force presence abruptly vanished, Eralam assumed she would break off from him to deal with the source of her isolation. After all, without the Force, a human in a duel with an Iron Knight had little chance of victory. Instead, she pressed the attack, for what point or purpose, the Shard had no idea. He blocked her attacks as they came, an endeavor of minimal effort.

On her last strike, the Shard allowed himself to be pushed back a step. Why, you ask? Well, the answer was simple: he was going to punt her right in the fork of her legs. He had it all planned out and everything. But before he got the chance to strike, his opponent turned her back to him.

Did she forget he had a gun? Or the Force? Or a lightsaber?

"What am I, chopped liver?"

Before she could reach Draco, she would have to clear several meters of floor, and Eralam had no intention of letting that happen.

She was less than a meter away from Eralam when the Colt roared.

The most talented quickdraw artists in the galaxy are said to be able to draw, fire, and reholster their weapon in two one-hundredths of a second. The human brain is not physically capable of registering actions on that scale, as it requires two tenths of a second to process and react to events. To the bafflement and delight of audiences, it looks like a magic trick. In reality, it was usually the result of natural aptitude, thousands of credits in specialized equipment, and decades of practice.

Eralam was not quite that good. He took about thirteen one-hundredths of a second for the trick, which was still plenty fast enough to fool the organic eye, but not enough to compete at the highest tier. However, that was irrelevant to the current situation. His pistol was already in hand. All he had to do was shoot.

Five shots ripped out from the Colt's barrel so quickly that they didn't sound like individual gunshots so much as a single prolonged explosion of noise. Of course, the bullets would reach their targets before the sound would. At this range, it would barely take .003 of a second to pass from the muzzle of the Colt to the target's back, barring some miraculous intervention.

Eralam picked his targets carefully, starting low and letting the recoil push his aim upwards. First bullet was aimed at the right kidney. A gunshot wound to the kidney, though not immediately fatal, was widely considered one of the most painful things a human body could experience. Instant paralysis and shock were almost universal. The next shot tracked to the bottom of the left ventricle, and the one after that towards the top of the right. The next shot was intended to sever the aorta, and the one after that, the final shot, was aimed at the base of her skull, towards the brain stem.

If they hit, any one of those shots would either be instantly debilitating or fatal. Even if, by some miracle, every single one missed their intended point of aim, 85 grams of lead all told slamming into the target's back would most likely take her out of the fight. Even through armor, the energy transfer alone would be enough to shatter ribs.

Of course, stranger things than a target cut off from the Force with her back turned to a gunman somehow dodging gunshots from less than a meter away had happened. Eralam was sure of it. He just couldn't think of anything off the top of his head.

 

[Corey's OOC]

Objectives: Kill
Location: Balmorra, but actually an office, avoiding AutoCAD work for a cranky PM.
Enemies: Everyone, but specifically [member="Nolan Detta"] and [member="Alyona Volkovna"]
Allies: No one, but [member="Trin Gravois"] for now
Gear: Balls of steel, one less kidney than he probably should have.

This fight was going on for too long. But one thing was for certain, Lucas was learning. What he was learning was that the Sith in the One Sith were becoming increasingly lackluster in teaching their acolytes how to fight the light side. Wasn’t that why they were created, the Sith? To destroy the robotic nature of the Jedi and their filthy perversion of using the Force? A power source that could change the galaxy and you used it to help others? Protect the weak? How was that even useful? If the Jedi were worth anything they’d fight back, use the Force to tear apart flesh like the Sith did.

But no, they didn’t. They chose weak emotions. Emotions that caused nothing but turmoil. And approached them like some frakking machine. Feeling the Force change as he was throwing it at the Jedi, frustration stemmed in the Sith. The days when the Jedi cowered were changing, and Lucas needed to adjust.

Perhaps arming himself with more than pure hate would be the answer.

A weapon, grenades.

Grenades.

That was new. The fragmentation grenade went off before he could put up a shield, heat, fire and shrapnel had greeted the man. Greeted him like an old friend. Robes aflame, blood streaming from several cuts to his flesh, the Acolyte was guided by his rage, protected by the rage as well. Standing, righting himself, he looked at the enemy. White-hot hate was his tool, and with it, he reached out, working to hit the activation switches on all of the grenades he could see, all the while his gestures shaking the support beams of the whole factory.

Enough.