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

[Laira Darkhold]

Location: Gorinth Canyon (PVP/NPC, C objective)
Allies: None
Enemies: Republic, [member="Alva Calvarona"]

The woman was forced down, her blades barely blocking the elongated dual phase sabers the droid lashed out with. Still, she had been unable to form her own offense. As logical and mathematical calculations rushed through logarithms trying to decide the next phase in the plan to eliminate the inferior she used her one unassessable variable. The Force.

She used the magical power to blow a strong gust of wing to redirect the liquid back towards the droid. Luckily, pressurized liquid, a very strong burst of wind. These things took a few moments to happen and the droid was able to recognize the pattern shift. The burst of liquid had been angled lower than the droid, the wind was horizontal, not forcing the liquid nitrogen up, but back and down. To the sides was the best course of action here given her stance. The droid’s legs surged and the droid ducked, spinning to this right in a sideways roll, the sabers shortening back to their normal length and bringing the droid back up in a crouch poised lower than the woman. Some of the spray caught the droid in the left shoulder, the slightly noticeable color change of the armor there as the armor became very cold, very quickly. That would be a weak spot for the remainder of this battle. But this was just getting started, there was so much more to do. So many more ways to torture her poor soul.

The beam of white energy zapped from the lower left hand side, hoping to catch her in the leg and limit her mobility yet again, while the crackling red energy blast aimed for center mass as the droid continued forward. Its upper blades spun like propellers again, defensive, not allowing strikes aimed for the droid yet still offensively very dangerous as she would be forced to block them or take them to the collar bones. The lower blades however could only slash for her feet, keeping her moving, keeping her off balance.

 

[Darth Ayra]

Objective: Liberated the Balmorran Arms Factory
Location: Upper Levels of the Balmorran Arms Factory
Allies: Corvus Raaf
Enemies: Vaulkhar, Darth Vornskr

| [member="Vaulkhar"] | [member="Corvus Raaf"] | [member="Darth Vornskr"] |

Ella Nova was a practitioner of Form I: Shii-Cho. It was the only lightsaber technique that she knew. Basic stabs, slashes or parries against Vaulkhar's blade was her form of attack, with each movement guided by the Force. The Jedi Knight had become well practiced at keeping the Force as her ally. It was the one thing she had become rather good at during the eight years it had taken to recover from the Battle of Coruscant.

She ignored the Dun Moch. In this moment, Ella was focused on defeating Vaulkhar and reaching the operations control room ahead of her. There was nothing else in this moment, other than the liberation of the Balmorran Arms Factory. Her focus was so, that she did not even notice the intense duel being waged between Darth Vornskr and Corvus Raaf nearby.

As Ella went to saber lock with Vaulkhar, the Sith threw out an elbow into her chin. It caught her, forcing her to stagger backwards. Instantly, her double handed grip around her lightsaber guided itself into the path of Vaulkhar's secondary slash. He had aimed to knock her off balance, then went for a massive blow. Impressive. He had been well trained.

Off the blow, the Jedi Knight staggered to the side and rebounded into the wall off the Sith Acolyte's blow. There had been a measure of power behind Vaulkhar's slash. Rising up, Ella threw her hand backwards to power up the Force. When she threw it forwards into Vaulkhar's path, she emitted a Force Push towards him.

He would join Arsix down below, if she had her way.

 

[Sage Bane]

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

The arms factory was a hellscape as Jedi and Sith clashed, harbingers of righteous fury and bloodthirsty rage vying for control of the plant. Bodies lay on the factory floor, slick with blood and stinking of death. The Jedi Knight’s power poured into Sage, filling him with tremendous reserves of energy. His brown eyes flashed red as he was fed like a tick, his arm human outstretched, fingers bent into claws.

“Empires will turn,” Sage repeated in his smoky tenor. “Perhaps, Jedi. But I won’t be alive to see that part of history. For now we Sith bask in our freedom, and for centuries we will continue to do so. Death will only free us further from this fetid existence.” He wasn’t blind to the waxes and wanes of galactic powers. History was doomed to repeat itself, but one thing remained the same. He was reminded of words uttered by his former master the Empress of Coruscant, Matsu Xiangu. All of life is suffering, Sage. They couldn’t have rang more true today.

Watching the Jedi collapse to his knees, gave Sage a pleasant shudder. Seeing other men and women subjugated before him gave Sage a sadistic satisfaction that not many things could top. Suddenly, there was a sharp clatter as the younger Jedi joined him on the catwallk, his saber raised high in the air, aiming to bear down on the Sith Lord. Sage’s reflexes were enhanced two-fold, not only from drinking the Knight’s powers, but also from the talismanic “eyes” embedded in Sage’s Sith-alchemized armor. Soaked in the Force and crafted by Sage, a Master alchemist himself, the runed Corsuca gems allowed the Sith Lord an almost-preternatural reaction time. When the Padawan’s blade fell, Sage was a few steps ahead, his body moving in a blur as he strafed sideways. The blue blade lightsaber connected mid-dodge, hitting the Sith Lord on the shoulder of his armor. As the blow connected, the terentatek hide repelled the main damage to Sage’s body, the Cortosis plating presumably causing the Padawan’s lightsaber to short. With a grunt, Sage staggered backwards, and although it took only a second for the Sith Lord to regain his footing, the boy’s strike broke his drain on the Jedi Knight.

An animal hiss came as he put his hands on the railing, and vaulted down from the catwalk, landing right in front of the elder Jedi. An invisible hand of the Force would reach out, seeking to penetrate the flesh of Jedi’s chest. If allowed to connect, the hand would wriggle in and close around the other man’s heart, squeezing it like overripe fruit. Ignoring the Padawn for now, Sage would take down the elder, while the man was weakened and partially drained of the Force. Then, he would finish off the whelp.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Location: Balmorra Arms
Factory Objective: Find and face Minna
Nearby Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Minna"]

"Hiding? No. Not hiding. Watching, waiting. You sealed me in darkness. I wanted to see how you handled it." His voice sounded off from below, and a golden light hummed to life. Ferus stood below, looking right up to her. Red eyes burned like embers, hate seething through him.

"Now I'm going to make sure you experience the same. Understand?"

 

[Minna]

Location: Balmorra Arms
Factory Objective: Face Ferus
Nearby Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Darth Ferus"]

"Your trust in the Dark Side is misplaced." Her only words before springing into action. A great leap brought her above him, allowing her to bear down him with a barrage of saber strikes. The offense would provide a great defense until she landed behind him, at which point her attack would only continue. Time with the masters at the Jedi Academy had proved useful, giving Minna much more knowledge over effective bladework. One such move she had learned was the Falling Leaf, which she employed right now. After landing behind him she made a rapid turn, bringing her saber swiftly across to slice at Ferus' back. Then she kept turning, until her momentum allowed her to face and move away from him almost immediately after the attack. In the end she would hopefully have landed her strike, and created distance between them mere seconds afterwards, where she could assume a stance with her saber held horizontally in line just under her chin. The adrenaline of combat was negated as she focused on the force, she would not repeat the mistakes of past battles today.

 

[Mantic Dorn]

Objective PvP
Balmorra arms factory
Allies GR, [member="Aston Jacobs"]
Enemies OS, [member="Sage Bane"]

Was this all he was? Without the force so much was revealed to him. He was his fourties no longer a young man, not even his body reacted the way he remembered. He had been so completely wrapped up, so completely open to his strongest ally, the force. Without it he barely remembered how to walk, nor stand.

As the sith lord flung himself over the ledge landing just in fron of him Mantic first reacted to bring his saber to his hand. But nothing happened, how, did he even turn it on without the force?
His eyes widened at [member="Sage Bane"]

Then came the pain, the invisible hand reaching into him like an evil claw clutching itself around a defenseless heart.

Staggering on his knees Mantic reached for his heart with his left hand his right one clawed at the sith holding his heart in a twisted grip...

 

[Kenrath]

Objective: PvP
Location: Descending Balmorrian Orbit
Allies: GR/SSC
Enemies: [member="Tmoxin Temi"]

Spoiler: Equipment

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/45056-sasori-rangers-armor/

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/61959-rangers-field-pistol/

Standard blue lightsaber

Xander tried to take a moment to catch his breath. It was interrupted by what felt like a screaming in his head. He stepped back just as Tmoxin appeared in front of him the first slash cutting the blaster pistol in half. Xander jumped to the side tucking and rolling out of the way popping to his feet pulling and igniting his saber.

"Well that was just rude."

His mask hid the frown on his face as he assumed a defensive position looking at her.

"My name is Xander and you are?"

 

[Corvus Raaf]

Location: The Balmorran Arms Factory (Somewhere near the upper levels)
Objective: Find romance when I start to dance in…
Allies: 70s disco
Enemies: [member="Darth Vornskr"] | A limited supply of songs with boogie in the title

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=god7hAPv8f0

Fourteen years. And an hour a day. Over 5,000 hours of practice if she bothered to tot it up. She was not yet a true Master of Teräs Käsi. But she was hardly a novice.

Teräs Käsi enabled a user to develop extreme speed, and an aptitude for anticipating strikes, most notably shown by clone assassins. In addition to this — and somewhat relevant today it taught those proficient how to close their minds to Jedi and Sith, thus protecting themselves from mental based attacks. But more of that later…

It was early in the fight — at least that’s how Corvus saw it. This was the foreplay to the main event — an analogy she now fully understood. If her emotions weren’t locked down she might almost have blushed at the thought.

The Sith Lord dismissed her efforts. She was a hardened enough campaigner not to take it to heart. Or to change anything. Too often duellists felt they had something to prove — especially when baited.

Instead she focused on her defense. On deflecting and frustrating. The Sith were so connected to their emotions, sometimes it only needed a prod to get them to tip into rash actions. Which was precisely what Soresu was designed to combat.

Her attack was swatted away with the sort effort afforded an annoying fly. She didn’t expect to hit him, but his command of the Force was commendable — even if it was the Dark-side. But then she’d studied the Sith for two decades and respected their abilities. Her favourite Soresu training regime was one Darth Bane used every evening.

She smiled. “Still? We’ve only just met.” There was no point in playing coy. For one Corvus did not lie and for another, to hide her true feelings would be to play into his hands. So she conversed as if chatting to an old friend over a cup of tea. And he was a very old friend.

“I presume you have heard I have a significant other. And yes, she loves me. Regularly. And she fits into the life of a Jedi like a hand into a glove. We are perfect together, I’m so glad you asked.”

“And how is your love life? Sadly I’m no stalker. So I can’t say I’m as clued up on your personal life as you are mine.” Once more, her voice was conversational. As of she were no more exerted than an afternoon stroll — as opposed to fighting for her life against a Sith Lord.

For his respite was just that — a short gap before he returned with a vengeance. This time Makashi — but Corvus’ defence remained the same. The third Form wasn’t her preferred style for nothing. Over 10,000 hours of practice was under her belt.

His change in style may have foxed some — but Corvus was using Center of Being. The Force was guiding her defence, not her conscious brain. So the switch was less significant than to someone who was more ‘hands-on’ in their use of the Force.

Of course, had her mental defences had been down, she might have sensed his attack. Maybe she would have used Art of the Small to counter. Or one of the many other techniques she’d been taught. But her martial art was already ahead of the game. Her mind was closed to mental attacks — without conscious effort. So she was oblivious to his efforts.


Of course, if he changed his approach to be more focused on her mind, he might penetrate her defences and she might have to use the Force. Although he might open himself up to her saber attacks if he wasn’t careful. It was a fine line he was about to walk.

 

[Nubica Felidae]

Location: Balmorran Arms Factory
Objective: End this party…
Allies: Nope
Enemies: [member="Mullarus"]

Nubica may be a young woman but she was no shrinking violet. She was training to be a Guardian and expected to give and receive blows. So the saber damage in return for the solid blow was just par for the course.

They both picked themselves off the ground, her saber reactivated even as she got to her feet. But before she could attack, he’d pulled the Force to him and was clearly planning something nasty — and rather colourful too.

Suddenly she knew what he had in mind as lightning arced around his fingertips before shooting directly at her. His promise to make her suffer was music to her ears. For a Vaapad user, the anger in him was actually feeding her power.

And now she would teach him another benefit of being a Vaapad user.

Sinking into Vaapad, she held her saber in front of her and fought for her life.

More than her life: each whirl of blade and whipcrack of lightning was a strike in defence of democracy, of justice and peace, of the rights of ordinary beings to live their own lives in their own ways.

She was fighting for the Republic that she loved.

There was no Jedi restraint here.

Nubica was cutting loose.

She was deep in it now: submerged in Vaapad, swallowed by it, she no longer truly existed as an independent being.

Vaapad is a channel for Darkness, and that Darkness flowed both ways. She accepted the furious lightning of the Sith Acolyte, drew the shadow's rage and power into her inmost centre — and let it fountain out again.

She reflected the fury upon its source as a lightsaber redirects a blaster bolt.

There was a time when she had feared the power of the Dark-side; there was a time when she had feared the Darkness in herself. But the experience had given her a gift of understanding: she had faced her Darkness and had learned that the power of Darkness is not to be feared.

She had learned that it is fear that gives the darkness power.

She was not afraid. The darkness had no power over her. But neither did she have power over it.

Vaapad made her an open channel, half of a superconducting loop completed by the shadow; they became a standing wave of lightning that expanded into every cubic centimeter of the surrounding battlefield. There was nothing nearby that might not at any second disintegrate in flares of red or purple. But there was still only the cycle of power, the endless loop, no wound taken on either side, not even the possibility of fatigue.

But she was not going to settle for an impasse. Instead she started to search for the shatterpoint.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Objective: PVP
Location: Balmorra arms factory
Allies: The One Sith | [member="Kala Maedrin"]
Enemies: The Galactic Republic | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Rexus Drath"]
Gear: Spidersilk / Shimmersilk dress. Lightsaber foil (waterproof and no dimetris circuits) Class! Vornskr pack of 6 for npc flavor~
CAUSE SOMEONE JUST CRUSHED ONE!



If there was any way to get the focused ire of the Countess of Bathory, it was harming one of her Vornskr pups. The sudden yelp, whimper, and the sound of crushing bones as the floor would stain red with pressure released organs and blood would fuel the furnace of Cyrena's tunnel vision hatred upon the Jedi.

Blood was a thick cloud, and her tri colored eyes would flare into a storm of colors, a circlet of pure white filling the Garhoon's orbs. She was not going to forget this. The Jedi would pay.

Channeling her anger, her focus into concentrated power, she let the Darkside of the Force swarm and fill her entire being. Sorcery was an antique art that Cyrena had developed over the centuries of her reign. And from her mouth came the start of the incantation that would soon engulf the man for his terrible deed.

From the depths of the void, she would start the summoning of Darkside energy, the air around her choking into a thick miasma as it would start to form.

More and more chants would spill forth, weaving and channeling more and more power and energy, feeling it ripple throughout her being and around the area as it would cloud in near tangible streaks of putrid dark.

Channeling this specific Sith Incantation was the first step. The deployment would soon come after.

 

[Darth Nephthys]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Location: In space![/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Objective: A: in Carach's arms. Passed out. dreaming...[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Allies: The One Sith - [member="Darth Carach"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Enemies: The Republic - [/SIZE][member="Tålamod Shapochka"]


Come, child.

Across the thundering song of the storm, there, from within the Temple of Vahl, the voice would coax at her. Tug at her as if connected by a leash. Nepthys found that she could not pull away. That she could not stray from this path.

How long has it been?

The voice would resonate within her mind. A melodic rasp, bringing with it the distant whisper of the past.

Since he left you?

A face would bloom on the fore of her mind. Beloved. Cherished.

Setesh.

It was her brother. Her twin. Onii-san.

Too long.

Every footfall seemed heavy, weighted. Armor would peel away, waterfalling like liquid as the Yuuzhan Vong Biots melted off her skin. They would reveal pale alabaster skin. Wide crimson eyes. A childlike visage under the fringe of a straight black fall of hair. There were scars that ran alongside of the rightside of her face, the only mar to seemingly perfection. A badge of her trials upon Manaan.

Her chest felt heavy. Breath, a chore. Each step would take her beyond the archway of the Temple entrance, into the depths of the Ember of Vahl below...

 

[Darth Carnifex]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7phIYabj9Uo[/youtube]​

​

Location: The Balmorran Arms Factory (Somewhere near the upper levels)
Objective: keel & b keel'd
Allies: The 1Siff ft. [member="Vaulkhar"]
Enemies: The People's Democratic Republic of Chazwa, and dat minx [member="Corvus Raaf"] ft. [member="Ella Nova"]
Equipment:

• Cosmetically Unique Blackblade Combat Armor Mk-III
• Sith Lightsaber

He had to admit, her form was exceedingly more sophisticated and refined than most Jedi he'd fought over the decades, and it was all the more vexing. He recognized the subtle tell-tale signs of Teräs Käsi, a form of martial arts that he had been practicing and honing for well over thirty years. He decided to return to his traditional style of aggressive Form V, but this time opting to keep his one-handed style while his other hand flexed and contorted awkwardly as the Dark Side swelled and coalesced around the Sith Lord. "Oh, sounds delicious. Perhaps after this I should track her down and allow myself a taste... I bet she's positively sublime." He chuckled, a dark sinister rumble that belied the horrendous things he'd do to her if he ever managed to get a hand on whoever Corvus considered to be her loved one.

Then the air would turn stagnant and filled with an oppressively foul odor that smelled of rotten corpses, coppery blood, and the stink of polluted ozone. The Sith Lord's irises would burn like coals, the sclera slowly transitioning from a blood-shot white to pure black as the Dark Mark branded onto his forehead began to glow bright red in response to his conjuring.


K̴̴̷͍̟ͤͪ͊͑ȋ̶͇̱̮͍̣͉͎͗ͭ͒ͭ̅̊͐ͅř̵̥̬͚͎̭̓͗͐̃ͭͯͧ͘å̴̢̱̠̹͖̠͂͑ͭ͘z̴͙̙͔̀̽̍̄̈̇͟͞ị͎̻̩̙̺̈̄̎͗̀͟.͚̘̤̩̔̓̐ͧ͐͛̈͐͡


From his outstretched palm billowed forth plumes of thick green smoke the swirled and thrashed about as if it had a mind of it's own, and the mere presence of it began to oxidize the metal around them causing it to rust and corrode rapidly. Vornskr's armor seemed to be unaffected by such wanton degradation, no doubt in part thanks to his own mastery of the dark energies he was unleashing upon his foe. The tendrils of dark swirling fog-like energy would snake through the air like serpents in an attempt to entangle and constrict the Jedi Grandmaster in a web of decrepity that sought to leech the life from her flesh, to tear away the flesh from her bones until all that was left was a withering husk so unrecognizable that it would leave even the most experience of surgeons left reeling in horror.

 

[Vaulkhar]

Location: Next to Darth Vornskr
Objective: Survive.
Allies: [member="Darth Vornskr"]; The One Sith
Enemies: [member="Ella Nova"]
Equipment:

• Sith Assassin Armor
• Single bladed yellow lightsaber.

Vaulkhar moved quickly in an attempt to avoid her blast, but was incapable of doing so entirely. His ability to see through the force allowed the young man prior warning, but it was not enough to entirely avoid her force push. His body managed to move slightly to the side, allowing him to avoid being thrown from the platform, but it still sent him sliding across the platform to slam into the railing before the edge. His jaw clenches and a grunt escapes his throat as he hits it. Vaulkhar manages to hold onto his lightsaber with his left hand while he grips tight upon the railing, rage burning within his gaze.

"I suppose simple conversation is not good enough for you, Jedi."

He turned his head to a nearby terminal and opened his palm. With a swing of his left arm, he ripped the terminal from the platform below it and tossed it through the air at the Jedi Knight. As it flew towards her, he drew the Force around himself and dashed after it, his movements blurring to the naked eye. Vaulkhar raises his blade and launches himself into a flurry of blows at Ella before pulling back his final blow, revealing a feint at the last second and instead sending a direct thrust towards the woman's side.

 

[Antoir Setrrin]

OBJECTIVE: PVP- Crush Peeps
LOCATION: Balmorra Arms Factory
ALLIES: GR Folks + Allies
ENEMIES: OS Bubs {@Reverance}

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
• x2: Dissuader KD-30
• x1: T-998C Rifle

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

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Auuqlcom6tM&list=PLpMUJrYyZ560kcx8dnp88fzrRBKQ_zI5z[/media]
Making it into the factory had taken her longer than she had hoped. By the time she came crashing into the entrance-way there were already plenty of dead soldiers marking the area. Some were clearly Sith, but others wore painfully familiar armor. Most were of Republic design. Basic armor for low-ranking forces. A few seemed to be wearing... Old friends... My Protectorate, oh why, why hath thee sent thy sons to me? Oh, death has become their groom, taking them all for himself... She took a moment to mourn the passing of fellow mercenaries-turned-soldiers.

But only a moment. Others had worked hard to ensure her entry into the facility, and she could not fail them. As she started running to the left, she saw a flash out of the corner of her right eye. A quick glance told her that it was another member of Omega squad. So someone else survived. Good, she thought. Someone else could take the half of the building that she couldn't cover herself. Or something like that. Taking half of the Imperial army by herself was clearly not an option. Even 'just' going up against half of the forces inside the building would be impossible.

That wouldn't stop her from trying. She wasn't sure how many other soldiers had gotten into the factory already, or how many were left, or how much help they could be. All Ven could do was hope that she'd find allies further in. So she kept running, only making it two rooms in before she found herself amongst foes. Two guards were were seemingly looting a corpse in the center of the chamber. Catching them by surprise, the mercenary fired off a few shots, breaking the glass visor of one man's helm and shooting through the other's throat.

By the time the first man had stood up she was upon him. Like a monster she attacked him, using the butt of her rifle to smash his helmet further. One blow was only enough to stun him. A second cracked the material, likely breaking his skull as well, and sent him tumbling to the ground. Ven was angry. She was so very, very angry. And that only worsened when a third warrior came crashing into the room. This one was... bigger. He was roughly the same height as her, reaching nearly six and a half feet tall, and had big, broad shoulders. Each of his biceps seemed to be the same size as her head.

"LET'S GO, FRAKKER," the soldier yelled, rushing at her. Within a second she was firing upon him, blasting at his hulking form, unleashing a hail of bolts in his direction. True to his warrior nature, he did not flinch. Soon he was upon her. Their bodies crashed right into each other. Ven was knocked back, the rifle lost somewhere between them. It took a moment for her to stop in her tracks. Both of her boots dug into the floor, her arms pushed up against the man, and they butted heads. Literally. As they fought for dominance, she realized something.

There was a problem: He was strong. There was a solution: She was stronger. Firrerreo ancestry ran through her blood, powering her, making her seem incredible. They grappled, her force easily matching his. Though he didn't see it, she was baring her fangs at him, a low growl leaving her lips. Once again their heads collided. Thick skulls ramming into each other. His helmet gained a dent. Hers stayed in shape. Grinning, she pushed against him again, trying to slam him into the wall. Yet...

Still, there was a problem. He was strong. She was stronger. But she didn't know if she was enough. So they grappled. Trying to gain the upper hand, trying to force the other back, or leave them open for attack. Somewhere in the distance they heard voices. Neither of them reacted to it. I have to win, the mercenary thought. There were still weapons trapped to her back. She could try to grab one. Use it to cut the man's head off. The woman didn't notice them, she felt like they weren't there, like it was just her and him.

A minute passed before anything happened. Their muscles strained against each other's as they both tried to win by sheer brute force. Eventually, though, the man slipped up. He moved his right foot when he should have moved his left. Panic flickered onto his face, hidden behind transparasteel, and he rushed to make up for his error. But it wasn't enough. The Mad Merc had an opportunity to show him what a Sekairo could do. And she took the chance. Her hands crashed into his chest. She slammed him back, sent him flying into the wall, and her knee slammed into his stomach.

With her fists she stopped him from bending over in agony. Oh, she was tired. But oh, was she mad. Both hands wrapped around his throat as her knee kept him pinned. He was tired too, to tired to fight back hard enough, to tired to win. Ven was not to tired to win. Her hands tightened around his neck. Anger fueled her. In the distance she heard a voice again, and she slowed down for a moment. In the quiet she could hear his breathing. She could hear him losing air, choking slowly. He was suffocating in her rage, dying because she saw him as an embodiment of the enemy she had been fighting since day one.

And it scared her.

Watching what she was doing to him made her pause again. Not enough to let him go. Just enough so that oxygen could return to his worn lungs. Her hands released. The edge of her left arm slid in place across his neck, barring him, holding him back. Something akin to a whimper left the giant's lips. Yet the woman did not pity him. Not enough to let him go. Quietly her right hand fell back, grabbing her lightsaber, clasping it with a death-grip. Without delay she raised the emitter to his skull, pressing it against the side of his head, staring into his visor as she did. She pressed the button. Then his cranium was gone.

All that remained was her. An angry, tired soul, left in a bloody body. The corpse she held was released, and it slumped to the ground, landing with a not-so-gentle thud. A moment passed peacefully. She watched the fallen, feeling her heart pound within her chest. She took a deep breath. Or two. Then she looked for her discarded rifle, finding it broken, lying on the ground in two pieces. Must have stepped on it. With a sigh she put her lightsaber back on her belt. I have to keep going. Pushing away the concern she felt biting at her chest she leaned down, grabbing the dog tags from the soldiers' necks, pulling them off gently.

She figured that the men had been somebody's son. Maybe somebody's father, or brother, or cousin. Someone would feel pain over their demise. Probably. And she felt like it was only right that she share in the pain, the misery. So she continued an old tradition of hers: She placed the tags around her neck, placing them alongside her own, ignoring the blood on them. Somehow they felt heavy. Like they carried the weight of the souls she had sent to Chaos with them. Maybe they did. Ven didn't pretend to understand how that sort of thing worked.

What she did understand was war. Voices were still calling out in the distance. Some screamed in pain, others seemed to carry out casual conversation. She did not care what they spoke about. But she knew to follow the sound. Whoever spoke was either a friend or a foe. That was clear. And so she drew one of her Dissuaders, keeping it gripped tight in her left hand, her right kept free for melee maneuvers. Feeling prepared, she advanced to the next room. No one was inside. She kept going, though, moving to find the source of the voices.

"Feels pretty good."

When the door opened Ven had a single moment to understand what was going on. There was a man inside, standing over a few bodies, his appearance making him seem like quite the intimidating man. It wouldn't take long for him to notice her in the doorway. She had perhaps three seconds to act. One: Her gaze landed on the bodies. They wore familiar armor. But not to familiar. Two. The Dissuader was raised, aimed at the warrior's chest. No headshots yet. Three. It clicked in her head. Fifty-seventh platoon. I don't know anyone in those squads.

A rush of relief surged through her as she fired off a clip. She wouldn't be getting revenge, no, but she'd be in for a damn good fight.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Location: The Restitution
Objective: SPAAAAAACCCCCCEEEEEEE
Allies: [member="Tålamod Shapochka"] [member="Lash"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Thane Drexel"] [member="stardust" [member="Varius"]
Enemies: [member="Catalys Maijora"] [member="Thanith Gumara"] [member="Eliza Lunelle"] [member="Darth Carach"] [member="Darth Nephthys"] [member="Laguz Vald"]

Well, they were in trouble, Taeli thought as the other part of the Primeval fleet arrived and opened fire immediately. The ship shook, but they kept going as another slavo bashed their shields. She winced as she watched the Mother Goose just take an absolute pounding from both enemy attack, it had just been unlucky enough to be coming around the disabled Dark Blade in front of the Resititution.

Taeli could feel the lives being snuffed out, but now wasn't the time to be distracted. They needed to regroup or they'd get eviscerated and be trapped themselves.

"Perform a micro-jump to the edge of the system, near to the Imperial fleet," Taeli ordered, alarms starting to blare as another salvo smashed into the Resititution. Inculpable shield's flared as it took a pounding as well, but the Virtue kept up a steady stream of anti-missile fire to lessen the impact of the enemy.

"Jump now!" she yelled as soon as the coordinates were established. It only took a few seconds, but one moment she was watching Mother Goose erupt into flame and debris and the next they were beside the Imperial fleet, only three ships now with their fighter escort.

"Form up with the Imperials, let's give them some support and see if we can't recover somewhat before the engagement continues," she ordered. "Engineering, I want shields back at full as quickly as possible. Damage assessment!"

"Inculpable took some damage to their port side hull, had to vent several compartments, but all combat systems are still going," someone shouted.

"Virtue is reporting only shield strain right now," another voice chimed in, the three Republic ships slowly moving into formation with the Imperial flotilla.

"Restitution took a beating Master Raaf, three turbolasers are disable and we took a very heavy beating to shields, damage to the hull in a few places, but most systems are still operational."

"Thank you," she said, looking out towards where the Prime fleet was. One ship gone to the enemy three, so far it was in their favor, but it was going to be a slugging fest. Hopefully the Admiral would be able to make it so the enemy had to fight on two fronts.

Summary:
Ships sustained some damage from the attack, Mother Goose completely destroyed
Performed micro-jump to Imperial position and formed up with them

 

[Darth Ayra]

Objective: Liberating the Balmorran Arms Factory
Location: Upper Levels
Allies: Corvus Raaf
Enemies: Vaulkhar, Darth Vornskr

| [member="Vaulkhar"] | [member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Corvus Raaf"] |

​

Lower Levels...

Wababpadio!

Flying through the air, Arsix hit the ground with a loud THUMP. A series of moans, bleeps and shrieks followed before the astromech fell silent. Using it's thrusts to set itself up right, he fell onto his back legs. Putting out the third to stand, Arsix performed a diagnostic. He had been damaged. His hull showed the signs of where he had fallen. But his inner circuits were still intact. He was okay.

Moan.

Rolling forwards, the little astromech popped it's head out of the position he had fallen. He had landed behind a series of crates, that he recognized to be holding a series of munitions. Jedi and Sith were engaged in battle, alongside Imperial and Republic personnel firing shots, all in an attempt to kill one another and seize this place. He couldn't understand biologicals sometimes.

Beep.

Keeping the crates as cover, Arsix begun his journey back to the upper levels. He had been given a mission. A very important mission. One that he couldn't fail. As he rolled forward towards the ramp that would take him up to the next level, he remembered who he had given him that mission. Ella. The Jedi. His Jedi.

Wabapaaiaaiadooooooooooooooooo!

He quickened his pace. Ella needed him.

~​

​

Lifting her hand, Ella claimed the terminal with the Force, holding it in mid air. She then released her control over the structure. It dropped harmlessly to the floor, a meter or so from where she stood. Claiming her lightsaber back in her hand, she sensed Vaulkhar flying in with Force Speed.

Raising a Force Barrier to protect himself from the initial hit, the momentum which carried his flurries broke past her defense. Forced to react with her blade, Ella went to parry Vaulkhar's initial strike. Missing due to the feint, the Jedi Knight allowed the forward motion to carry her forwards as the Sith Acolyte came in for the blow.

She leaped and forward flipped, in an attempt to avoid the hit. But she felt pain as he leaped through the air and landed badly, buckling on her feet and rolling across the ground. Putting out a hand to stop herself, Ella came to a stop on one knee, coming out of the barrel roll.

Her hip and right hand side of her stomach burned from the lightsaber blow. But it hadn't been deep. She could continue, if only her movements weren't affected by the wound.

Feeling something burn her, Ella hopped forward and turned to look at her shoulder. Something had withered away her clothes, causing a serious burn on her shoulder. Lifting a hand quickly to douse the burn with the Force, the Jedi Knight turned to see where it was coming from.

The Sith Lord that the Grandmaster was engaged with had unleashed his powers of the dark side. The floor around him began to wither and die, alongside crates of munitions, pillars and terminals. She was shocked by what she saw. How was Corvus holding up against someone like Vornskr? She wouldn't last a minute against someone like him.

Keeping it mind to stay away from Vornskr for now, putting all her hope into the Grandmaster, Ella turned to the Sith Acolyte that had burned her. Lifting a hand towards the Sith Acolyte, Ella powered down her lightsaber and clipped it onto her belt to power the Force into her palms.

A gust of wind gathered forward as the Jedi Knight unleashed another Force Push, this one more powerful than the last. Something akin to this gif.

 

[Ellie Mors]

Location: Outside of Balmorran Arms Factory
Objective: B - Beat the ever-loving-kark out of Sith
Allies: Nobody with me.
Enemies: Nobody against me - Yet.
Equipment: Simmersilk Shirt & Pants, Offering Crystal (1), Maw of Midnight

Kark the Sith. The thought ran through her head several times as she spun the double-sided spear in the palm of her right hand, dressed lightly in silken pants and a long-sleeved silk shirt. While she approached the facility, that of the Balmorran Arms Factory, several idiots had thought to put the woman down with well-placed blaster bolts to the chest, each center mass, but each shot ricocheted away - harmlessly knocked away by the alchemized material which made up her clothing. As far as she was concerned, much to the luck of those blaster-wielding soldiers that realized the futility of trying to shoot her full of holes, the fodder that had set fire upon her were just that - mere distractions to be dealt with after the main entree was finished.

Approaching the door, Braith was greeted by two Sith - likely acolytes or knights of some sort, both wielding red sabers and grunting in tandem as they lashed out to try to bisect her. She didn't so much as flinch, rather she flicked her wrist and lifted her arm, the spear in her right hand twirling up to bat away one saber while she let go of the shaft and tugged against it with the force using her left hand, ripping the spinning spear out of the air and into her open palm, the sheer force of the lightsaber-proof shaft knocking the red blade away from her. The two, of course, were bewildered by someone on the side of the Jedi wielding alchemized goods, but she wasn't about to let them question her reasoning or attempt to make a second strike - lightning ripping the double-bonded oxygen apart like burning ozone as it scorched and burned away the fumbling Sith more quickly than their realization of being outclassed.

With the doors to the factory left unopposed for her to enter, a mere push with the force, by the nudge of her chin, and she was inside with two doors knocked skidding across the floor. She wasn't too certain why a factory was the site of so much fighting, but the presence of the dark side of the force was more than enough to feed on - like several of her alchemical creations designed for that purpose entirely.

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Location: Balmorran Arms Factory
Allies: Sith
Enemies: [member="Nubica Felidae"]

It took Mullarus a few moments to regain his composure and realize that the storm of electricity he was releasing from his fingertips was in vain. Like every one of his strikes at this mere student of Jedi Ignorance, it went defended. Yet, he swore he could feel the woman becoming...stronger as he became more enraged. How? Jedi don't do that...not any he had ever heard of.

This is a test. The Sith are taught to channel their rage, and yet this Jedi feeds off of it as well. Master Pyrrhus is testing me. It's time I...control my anger. I will battle it and defeat my opponent as calmly as a child sleeps in its mother's arms.

The lightning stopped. Mullarus closed his eyes, though continued to watch his opponent through the Force. Force Sight, specifically. The woman was an aura to him now. She was no blue, light sided aura, though. It was more...violet.

Eyes still closed, Mullarus' brows raised calmly as he felt around for his lightsaber. Ah. There you are. He threw a hand out and pulled it back into his hand, igniting the green blade. Head lowered and eyes still closed, it was as if Mullarus was trying to meditate mid-battle. He raised his lightsaber slowly.

"You fight like a demon, Jedi. So I will battle you like an angel. With honor, and without rage."

 

[Eralam]

Location: Just inside the door of the Balmorra Arms Place Thingy
Objective B
Allies: One Sith (Last damn time I owe a favor to a Sith Lord)
Enemies: Anyone who dares make me lose my place in this book
Equipment: 5 shot slugthrower revolver (see profile header), eralam crystal lightsaber

Eralam was not a happy camper.

He didn't particularly like Sith. He didn't much care for Jedi either. Realistically, he shouldn't have had a horse in this race. And yet, he was here, sitting in this miserable reception room, hoping like hell the two Sith noobs guarding the door were worth the oxygen they were stealing.

Why, you ask?

Because he owed [member="Sinistra"] a favor. They had gotten absolutely hammered in a dive bar on Dressel, and at some point during the blur of cheap liquor and belligerent drunkenness, some poor soul had worked out the audacity to steal Eralam's wallet. He didn't make it far, but two master level beings, already too drunk by half to be completely safe around normal folks, accidentally ripped the poor fellow in half by trying to simultaneously Pull him back to the table and Push his head against the wall.

Needless to say, the wallet was ruined and Sin had to pick up the tab. Unfortunately, she had agreed to do so only if Eralam agreed to owe her a favor. And that favor was sitting here, in this room, waiting for the Republic to either give up or for someone to step through the door. Honestly, if they didn't seek quarrel with him he'd probably just let them by, so long as they didn't make him lose his spot in his book. It was an old one, a rousing story of friendship and betrayal in a world torn by war. The datapad it was on was probably worth a small fortune, but the Iron Knight had encountered it looking for illicit booze in the desks around the factory.

Factory? Was that what this place was? There had been a briefing, but he hadn't paid much attention. Honestly, who called in fighting in a war as a favor for picking up a bar tab?

Sith, that's who.

Anyway, back to the book. Surely he was just imagining the sounds of fighting outside the door.

 

[Trin Gravois]

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

Like a buoy in a stormy sea, the Mando bobbed around on his jet pack, weaving through the air, avoiding the Dark-sided energy that Trin hurtled towards him, as if it were a gentle, summer breeze. She didn't know what enraged her more, the fact that the Mando eluded her attack or the fact that her failure gave her brother more canon fodder against her. To top it off, Trin was very, very hungry. If she and her brother took this one down, the first thing she would do would be rip off his helm and feed on his face. Well, maybe not the first thing. Her brother was here after all.

Strafing to the side and presumably narrowly missing a catwalk, the freakishly tall Mandalorian lifted his rifle and fired, blaster bolts crisscrossing her way. She lifted her red blade to them and, jaw tight, brown eyes focused, swung her saber to meet most of the blows, batting them away with Soresu defensive movements. A shot grazed her thigh and she cried out in pain, glancing towards Lucas who probably just laughed.

There was a potent crackle as hateful energy burst forth from her brother, another telekinetic blast meant to knock the Mando back. At the same time, wincing in pain, Trin capitalized on the siblings’ advantage: two against one. As Lucas’ attack happened, Trin charged up a new attack on the Mandalorian. Using her brother’s soul-crushing animus, towards her as all well as every other living being, to bolster her energy, this attack would be much more vicious and powerful than the first. The half-Anzat then branched out with the Force and wrapped it around the man’s rifle, aiming to twist and crush the weapon’s barrel, rendering it useless.