A Return Home[TRE Dominion of Korriban Hex]

[Connor Harrison]

ENGAGING: [member="Electroheart"]
--
Rolling over and getting up with the smell of blood teasing her senses, Joon took the blow to her midsection and fell back with the youth atop her, and she grinned wickedly as she wrapped both legs around his side.

Her nails dug into the base of his neck and she pushed the bloodied hilt into side.

”Were they really worth it, Jedi? Were they really worth dying for?”

Squeezing her legs together, Joon growled. Then, with a flick of her wrist to turn the hilt outwards, she activated the crimson blade – the burning energy was intended not to kill him, but to pierce his side to leave a painful reminder of his time in battle.

Joon knew this but a distraction – the real prize was waiting for her in the guise of cities and innocent civillians to bring to their knees for the Empire.

 

[Leos Palle]

Engaging: [member="Joon"]

Ad soon as her arm came up, his went down to stop it. Not the one at his neck, as that was far less lethal, but the one holding her saber. No, he was now about to be stupid enough to allow her to get her blade into a position where she could do some serious damage to him or kill him. The pain in his neck was excruciating, but he would make her feel worse for the effort. She drew blood, but he'd do better.

"Yes, it was worth it," he said.

As he did, his other hand came down at her throat with the extent of crushing her windpipe. She could live from it, but it would effectively take her out of the fight as she would have to seek immediate medical attention. It was a necessary tactic, even as he was holding her saber mere centimeters from connecting with his side. No, he had to defeat her so he could get the others out of there and give the civilians at least a chance.

"I am no Jedi."

His eyes would bore into her, and if his fist connected, he would leave her in peace, allow her to seek medical attention. He wanted to kill her, but he wouldn't for the time being.

 

[grammaticus]

Corin grunted in annoyance. [member="Joon"] wasn't responding. Not entirely worrying, considering she could be out hunting, but he still worth investigating.

He quickly set out at a jog towards where they had met the other Jedi, quickly coming around the bend to see the scene. Seeing the combatants locked, Corin threw his hand out, atrempting to throw him a short distance away, separating the two.

He quickly jogged over to Joon, reaching down to check on her. "Seems you needed some help." He quickly came to his feet, looking at the other Jedi. "You should go check on your friend. I'm not certain how well he will do trapped under twenty tons of rock. Unless you want to fight me, and give my forces more time to kill the civilians." The last words were accented by Corin igniting his saber.

[member="Electroheart"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

ENGAGING: [member=Electroheart]
ALIES IN AREA: [member="Corin Zanith"]
--
A tight hand gripped her wrist – cold and firm – and her eyes darted to his as she strained under his cybernetic limb. Suddenly, his free fist went to her throat in a short and sharp hit, but in the next second the Jedi had been pushed back, but not by her.

Letting out a dry cough and gasp, her hand went to her throat as her muscles contracted from the punch, and she fought to breath, fingers digging into the ground.

Rolling onto her side, wheezing a little and relaxing her muscles as best she could, she pushed up and held her throat, glaring at the Jedi and not acknowledging or thanking Corin at the expense of her own frustation and hurt pride.

”He’s…” came her raspy reply, ”…he’s not Jedi. He’s a machine. A spare part. A tool... to be used.”

Joon glanced around for any sign of back-up.

”Let’s get out of here quickly. There’s...killing to be done. Liberating to be done. We have wasted enough of our....resources on these whelps.”

It certainly hurt to talk, but the pain speared her on.

 

[Leos Palle]

Engaged: [member="Joon"]
Interfering: [member="Corin Zanith"]

His fist connected, but the next thing he knew he was thrown away. It hadn't come from Joon, but from someone else. He tumbled and ended up in a heap. Red eyes turned towards the other Sith, and he felt a sense of nausea. If this one had come back, one of the others might have been defeated, or dead. He didn't like that idea, and pushed himself back to his feet, touching fingers to the blood at his neck and pushing his shoulder back into place after.

"I am only part machine, and not by choice. I can still defeat you."

Can, and technically had before being interfered with. Still, he wasn't done. Not until these two left to lick their wounds. In a split second he turned and snapped one kick left and one right, projecting his strikes, one at each, through the Force. Taking on two in close quarters would be dangerous even with the damage he'd done to the woman.

"Leave and lick your wounds. Your pride may be injured, but don't be stupid enough to continue with those injuries."

 

[grammaticus]

Corin deactivated his saber, gripping it in his hand as he threw himself sideways. He came up from the role, turning his eyes back to the other man. rising to his feet, he walked to where [member="Joon"] stood, looking her over briefly, before turning back to [member="Electroheart"] .

"Do not consider this day a victory for you and your kind. Thousands still lie dead, and many more shall follow. The Empire has taken this world, and it shall serve its new masters. Your defiance, and your losses here this day, count for nothing." Turning, he offered his help to [member="Joon"] before heading out of the area the two had previously been fighting in.

He sent word for a shuttle to be brought down, and a medical team to be ready on board when it arrived. "Despite not having a true weapon to their name, those Jedi things are not terrible warriors, hm?"

 

[Zakir Thaun]

The Zabrak was far from realizing the two's mental maneuvers over each other. Nor how crucial can it be in combat. He was still studying the Force, inadequate to even witness the two's unseen interactions. His master's lightsaber ignited, assuring it was time for physical combat and with it a fuse of eagerness ignited in Zakir. He reached for his Vibroblade and unsheathed it before him, overly-anticipating an attack. He had to be cautious, again, now would be the last time he'd want to fail his Master. Only distinct thoughts could describe his ending if he were to so gravely fail his first test. He could have tried and joined his Master after the Jedi, if it even came to that, but he instead wanted more. Obstacles and opponents will undoubtfully await him in the future, but he had to get to that future first. He had to stop those escaping civilians. To trap and enslave them, this was his plan. But the Jedi stood at the entrance. Perhaps his Master could occupy the Jedi's attention while he sneaks past with some of their company-men? Seeking another entrance would tax him too much time, and the targets could had escaped by then.

He mumbled to three of the gunmen accompanying the two. "When the way is free, you follow me inside." It was their job after all, they were enslavers. His Vibroblade was no match to a Masterful engagement, but it would likely suffice for less qualified personnel, precisely their prey. He stood fairly distanced to his Master's left side, the three gunmen spread behind him. He hoped the Jedi's attention would stray just enough so they could bolt for the entrance.

[ [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] | [member="Bethany Kismet"] ]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

~
Post: 6
Objective: Reconquista of the Old Artifacts
Location: Ajunta Pall's Tomb, Korriban
Nearby: Nick Imura │ Seraya Whisperwind
~

Blood clouded the vision in one of his eyes, the force guiding him with gusto to his unseen destination. He was cut in a number of places, once in his forehead, a number in his torso, and another on the exterior of his right thigh. His robes were shredded, and the pain was deep, but what kept him going was his will to survive.

Deep in the depths of the tomb, he dipped and dodged barriers and palisades of long aged stone, metal infrastructure littering the ceiling and wall that seemed to threaten to collapse at any given moment. It simply watched and observed his struggle, the passing of statues and pillars long left to the elements while archaic ghosts treaded in his steps.

A ghostly blade sprung from the wall and tore into his cheek, exposing the raw flesh beneath to the cold air. It stung, ripping his focus from his movements to the pain for a half second, but never long enough to allow an accident. There was easily a small brigade following him, and from what he could sense a bit over fifty heavily trained apparitions. He didn’t understand what they were made of, nor if he could even fight them, his only concern was escaping the chance at certain doom.

Pathways led up to the exit, his muscles screaming for release as he neared the exit. Behind him, the ghastly steps of more men mixed with their war cries and filled him with something more than fear… excitement? He hadn’t been in such a harrowing situation before, and to say it didn’t get his heart racing in the slightest would be an understatement. It was then he noticed the grin he held on his face, the slight upcurve of his lips in recognition of the danger. It disturbed him, but even that seemed to intrigue him…

Just what was he becoming under Bestia? Under the Sith?

He’d mediate on it later, but as the sun came to greet his skin and the familiar dryness of the desert heaved at his lungs, he couldn’t help but exhale a sigh of relief. He jerked back around and clenched his hands tight, drawing the force like ropes towards the massive doors that once sealed Ajunta’s tomb. They slid shut with a menacing growl, a foreboding warning for his return should he ever come back.

And then he collapsed. He was drained. The fight for his life was short, but exhausting in every aspect, and as the small beacon on his wrist began its SOS signal, he drifted into unconsciousness with little more than a flutter of his lashes and a slip of his lips.