Junction Battle For The Kathol Outback [Part I] | SO & ME Junction of Demonsgate & Ando

[Zlova Rue]

Objective III

Zlova's smile faded and her brow furrowed as Corbin Vasher started laughing. Not out of concern, of course. Just the man seemed a bit unstable for someone that wasn't kissing Ophilia's feet and waxing about their own glory. With just that and a pinch of violet flame, the man tossed those he could through the nearest room and window. Obviously the man hadn't gotten the same briefing Zlova had. Or was Corbin a concerned third party? The delegates were supposed to die. Everyone was supposed to die.

Not that Zlova cared, of course. Oh, she saw the reason and wasn't morally opposed to crushing the life of people willing to fall at Ophilia's feet, but saying she cared if they all actually died or not would be ascribing far too much vested interest to the Twi'lek. It wasn't as though she could climb the ladder of power among the Mandalorians by her dauntless success on the battlefield. Just because they didn't kill her for what she was -- because of a certain Cat's introduction of Zlova to the Quartermaster prior to their crusade -- didn't mean they wanted her leading them.

Meanwhile, a certain blood-fiend seemed to find Zlova boring. That did earn shadows falling over her red face and golden rings burning with promise. Try not to skewer yourself with your own sword, Zlova sent after Alina Tremiru telepathically. If that creature thought the single bolt was supposed to impress, she wasn't as interesting as a prey as Zlova had hoped.

Darth Malum of House Marr stepped forward and drew the Lethan's eye then. The darkness rolled about the outline of her person for just a moment before it subsided. The man's formal speech pattern managed to draw more to the forefront than the rage buried under copious amounts of drink, flippant disregard for authority, and shameless abandon. A beat passed between them. "Lady of the Sith, Darth Siron, Speaker of the Ancients."

A smile began to spread over her lips as Ophidia did not seem inclined to be sociable.

"I wasn't asking. I was telling. Your first lesson," Zlova stepped to the right as her left hand reached out to snap the neck of the man that had begun to get off the ground to scurry away, "a Sith Lord never asks." The red woman covered in traditional Sith tattoos shot forward with her right hand coming around to strike at the man's face. It was the way in which he'd try to intercept with his blade that interested her. An obvious defense, which would allow her to alter course and leap to the side to avoid the blow most likely.

"The second lesson," she continued as though nothing had happened, "is a Sith Lord is never distracted by what is in front of her."

Her left hand shot out toward the gaping hole in the wall. Her fingers curled into a claw. Three spears of midnight black would erupt out of the ground around where Darth Ophidia stood.

"And she never lets a slight go."

Tag: Volo Dragr | Trayze Tesar | Adeline Noctua

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Objective 3: Head of the Snake

Malum simply nodded as he caught the red-orange eyes of his Mistress, it seemed that it was to be his charge to eliminate the foe in front of him. That would be far easier if she was not who she said she was.

"Lady of the Sith, Darth Siron, Speaker of the Ancients."

Now that could mean many a thing, and most of them were worse than the last. Lady of the Sith? Now, it was not Dark Lady of the Sith, the title which Darth Lumiya had taken, and had assigned her supremacy over the Sith Order, but he could not quite tell if that was its meaning. Darth Siron, so either a Master or a Knight, either way beyond him in skill and experience, just that one was far more superior to him than the other. Worrying, and meaning that this would be a hard-fought battle no matter the outcome, and of the outcome, it was very likely that he would lose. Still, though it was framed as a duel, it was no real duel, he needed to only fight for time. Both Trayze and Alina had arrived at her flank, and once they defeated the invisible man they could move to his aid. His Mistress and the beautiful woman he had seen, seemed to have the Mandalorian on the back foot, if they would defeat him, they could aid him too.

Thus, a battle for time it was to be. Keep her away from his allies, and survive.

Of the last of her words, he was not quite sure what they meant. 'Speaker of the Ancients' ? That would certainly be something to research after all this was over.

If he survived to research it, that was.

He firmed his feet on the floor, he had to be steady and resolute to respond to any of her attacks. Only once he had found a weakness in her visage, could he begin his own attack. He was not about to foolhardily charge a potential master. He would feel pity for the delegate that would die due to his unwillingness to act, at least it was quick... well as quick as getting one's neck snapped was.

His caution paid off, as his eyes slightly widened.

"Fast." Was the only thought he had, as within a second her hand moved to strike his face. Though he would know it, she had very much anticipated his response, as, within instinct, he rose his blade, placing it in between him and her fist, and if she proceeded forth, she would have surely found herself in deep pain, and lacking one hand.

Unfortunately, she was no fool, and as equally as fast, she broke off her attack and looked towards his Mistress. Raising forth her hand, Malum made out three darkened shadowed spears erupt from the floor near Darth Ophidia.

Now, that would not do.

He pointed his unarmed hand towards the darksider, and within him flew the force, through the veins of his hands, it extended outward, in a beautiful tempora of lightning.

"My apologies, my lady, but I believe we are in the middle of a duel, I cannot just allow you to interrupt it by bringing forth others." The irony was not lost on him, he would still cringe on how he had interrupted the duel between Venn and Alina on Saijo, but at the very least, he could redeem himself here.

Direct Opposition: Zlova Rue
Allies: Trayze Tesar Darth Ophidia Alina Tremiru Adeline Noctua
Opposition: Volo Dragr Corbin Vasher

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio
Location | Kal'Shebbol, Objective three
Tag | Volo Dragr Darth Ophidia Trayze Tesar Darth Malum of House Marr Alina Tremiru Corbin Vasher Zlova Rue

In truth she had been a bit shocked that the man was still kicking, even after all her weight had crashed down upon him and should have crushed his body into the dirt. No matter, more force, more pressure. These things the beast could easily provide, such was the reason she had been so quick to try and catch Volo within her fanged maw. No armor no matter the metal could resist the sheer crushing power of her jaws, even the ever so famed beskar would be easily bent and the wearer crushed within the very metal they held so dear.

He spoke in defiance, Adeline feeling the rage inside of him. The glory of battle, the shedding of blood. Both were racing to see which hunter became the prey, Adeline's own determination rising swiftly as the small spear had shot right into her still healing wound.

The beast growls out once again, instinctively rising up a bit. Her tainted blood would drip down onto his visor while he tried to dig his fingers into her carapace to no avail. Soon she reacts as the knife was stabbed right into her left arm, it didn't manage to fully puncture thanks to her armor... But it hurt.

As the man pressed the knife down, Adeline would retaliate by trying to bite onto his head while he was still pinned down. If her maw was able to get a firm grasp onto him, the power of her monstrous jaws would start to crunch the helmet like a soda can. His visor seeing nothing but the inside of the beast's mouth, though this plan to simply crush his head wouldn't get the results desired. While the helm may have been heavily damaged, and painful pressure had started to apply to his head... She felt his saber's hilt, her jaws let go in a panic, saving his head from being bursted like a melon as the saber ignited.

Thankfully for the bat, she had managed to back off quickly enough to only suffer a mild cut along with a split finger. Not wanting more vital parts to be stabbed within her frenzy, the Sangnir quickly gives him his wish to be free, tossing him away against the building.

Her darkened blood continued to leak from the now twice attacked wound upon her chest, the bare dirt below her being stained by its foulness. If her attack had been able to work, the both of them would be a wounded mess, equal hunters.

With a deep growl the beast starts to pace, watching now and waiting.

 

[Thonn Rokkal]

Allies: Valery Noble Jos Krayt Yuan Ji Tiland Kortun Pyeth Raffinki
Enemy: Darth Empyrean Gerwald Lechner and any other Sith
Engaging: SF-3335

---

With his missile launcher loaded and shouldered, Thonn kept a careful watch on the scanner display as he awaited the assault they'd been warned of. The wait was not long, with a flashing yellow dot signaling the arrival of an unrecognized ship, quickly joined by more popping up on screen. Within another second the targeting system recognized the signatures as hostile, and the numerous yellow dots shifted to red. The roar of engines grew louder in the distance and from the skies transports began to approach and descend, visible to Thonn through the sights of the readied weapon he was aiming their way.

Keeping the launcher steady, he waited until he heard the chirp that signaled a lock on to his target before pulling the trigger. A missile came roaring out of the muzzle, while the backblast behind him kicked up debris from the ferrocrete floor and rattled the sparse and empty steel shelving. Thonn turned away from the window to quickly load a second missile, with the steady beep from the scanner telling him of the continued approach of the one he launched. Reloading kept him too busy to confirm it himself, but the long steady beep and the subtle flash of the explosion behind him told him he had fired true. Now that he had another missile freshly loaded in the weapon's breech, Thonn sought to repeat the success of the first.

Taking careful aim, he kept the rocket launcher stead as the targeting system picked another enemy transporter out of the many that were arriving. Just as the chirp alerted him to another successful lock on, Thonn noticed the presence of SF-3335 in his peripheral view, making her approach by speeder. The dot that marked her position was easily identifiable – it was the closest of all of them. Oddly, it was still lit up as yellow. It didn't seem the targeting system recognized her as either friendly or hostile. He assumed the former, considering the timing of her approach. No one arriving under the cover of enemy fire could bring them much good.

He'd have to intercept her, but he was still locked onto a descending Sith transporter. Her proximity and velocity were too great to try to lock onto her with the missile he had loaded and ready, so Thonn hastily continued with his original plan and fired it out the bay window to send the payload soaring through the sky towards his selected target. The load roar of the rockets firing up dimmed in volume as it flew, rattling the steel cages again and settling down to a strange crackle. The noise wasn't loud, but it was certainly unusual.

Turning around again revealed the source of the sound: the contents of an open wooden crate behind him had been set ablaze, with tongues of fire from it flickering several feet high. In his rush Thonn had neglected to consider whether the area behind him was actually clear. Alone in a large and mostly empty warehouse, he'd erroneously assumed it was. Well, he turned out to be wrong.

There was no time to put it out, fire was the least of his concerns. Though he'd taken down two Sith transports, the sky remained littered with plenty more. He'd done was he could to accommodate the arrival of friendly forces, with the two missiles he had with him. His rotary cannon was far from ideal from engaging the transports, but that speeder bike hardly looked like it was able to stand up to such punishment. After copying her last known location to his HUD, he discarded his missile launcher in favour of his rotary cannon. Thonn wasted no time in departing from the building, with the small blaze he'd left behind remaining to burn and flicker.

Once he'd stepped out of the building, the roar of his jetpack came to life to send him soaring towards the location indicated by his HUD. His cannon remained brandished, loaded and ready to unleash a maelstrom of blaster bolts upon the rider he was searching for, should he find her.

He soon did, and he aimed his cannon upon her almost reflexively from a far range behind her. A short burst of highly inaccurate fire followed – the first few rounds may have landed on target, but all subsequent shots fell wide. Despite the practice, there were still some issues in firing while flying, though that the failed attempt didn't cause him to crash into the ground showed improvement from his previous attempts. He was bound to grow fully accustomed to the weight distribution of his new weapon soon, but for now he opted to settle himself down on the ground in a quick but controlled descent.

Whether or not any of the blaster bolts he'd fired struck her, the flurry was sure to gain her attention. Should she engage, she'd find Thonn with his feet planted down firmly in battle stance, prepared to fire another salvo with more accuracy and control than he had while airborne. Should she decide to either retreat or reposition herself, she was bound to be successful, given the distance she had on him and the plentiful cover to be found within the city.

 

[Atlas Drake]

KAS WILDFIRE
TIMBRA OTT SYSTEM
Romul Saxon Darth Carnifex ​

---

​

"All hands. This is the captain, abandon ship."

Captain Drake cursed Carnifex's black bones under his breath. Jumping in on the armada's flank, his Wildfire had been spared the worst of this Sith deceit. Unfortunately, it made Atlas and his crew a priority target. Their last stand had been a valiant one. Even with half the ship's turbolaser batteries neutralized, every moment of split focus might just save some lives. Now the Wildfire's engines were destroyed and there was no saving the old girl.

"Warrant Officer," he nearly staggered into the marine, "Muster a squad and meet me aboard the Constellation."

Despite such dire circumstances, the mere sight of Drake's worn-down survey ship reminded him of better times. Before war returned to the Outback. In desperate need of experienced officers, Atlas had no choice but to answer the call of duty and resume his commission with the Kathol Navy. His old uniform still felt uncomfortable but at least it was easy to maneuver through the heavily armored shock troops gathered on the Constellation's cargo deck.

"Brace yourselves for a cold launch," Drake activated the shipwide intercom, "Prepare to board the Lady Forlorn. If we can we'll take back the ship. Extracting Warmaster Saxon is our only priority now."

Skipping pre-flight was not advised. Atlas bounced around the cabin while Constellation's inertial dampeners struggled to compensate. Agile for her size, Captain Drake escaped the crumbling hangar and burned hard for Lady Forlon before any fighter screens could intercept him. Today might be a mortal blow to the Kathol Alliance, but if the mandalorians lost their warmaster all hope for his people was truly lost.

"Eyes up, marines. Breach on my signal."

Bulky power gauntlets forced the emergency airlock open. Atlas had donned a civilian envirosuit, but after more than a decade prospecting on the galactic frontier it was rugged enough to handle a fight. Each marine toted a kathol lancer easily in their armored exoskeletons. Drake meanwhile relied upon his Glie-44 and a tehk'la blade.

 

[Volo Dragr]

HEAD OF THE SNAKE
ALLIES : Zlova Rue | Corbin Vasher
HOSTILES : Darth Ophidia | Darth Malum of House Marr | Adeline Noctua | Trayze Tesar | SITH WARLORDS & ASSOSCIATED DIGNITARIES
ENGAGING : Adeline Noctua
LOCATION : Kal'Shebbol, Streets
- - - - -

He couldn't help but grin as the blooded dripped down onto his visor, momentarily staining his vision before his helmet automatically wiped it off. No doubt, the Sith vermin would soon resort to using the Dark Side, and then all the Equivox would decompose, flooding her with Devaronian Blood Poison.

Shame on him for letting the small victory overwhelm him, as his helmet was swiftly caught between the jaws of the great monster, slowly being crushed between it as he was powerless to escape- till the monster felt the cold of his hilt and gave him space.

By tossing him into a building.

Though the combination of his weight and the strength of the beast managed to crack the stone, he felt nothing more than the wind temporarily leaving his lungs. Falling from the wall onto his knees, saber dropping on the ground beside him, he stood up slowly, fist clenching as he directed the Force into his amulet, kickstarting it into accelerating his body healing the very wounds he'd just sustained.

His time spent hunting for relics in the Netherworld was finally paying off, it seemed.

Raising his hands to grip his broken and damaged helmet, he tossed it to the side. Holding his hand out, he called his lightsaber back into it, igniting the black blade as he locked eyes with the beast, beginning to circle it in the street as he considered his next move.

As he stared down the beast, almost everything but his amber eyes covered by the Omensight mask, he focused on her through the mask, using it's gift to get a sense of how many people the beast had killed, for curiosity's sake.

Regardless of the result, he began to advance on the beast, rapidly picking up speed from a brisk walk, to a jog, to a run to a full sprint... all surmounting to flames kicking out from his jetpack and cybernetic legs as he turned himself into a human missile, flying towards her at breakneck speeds.

With barely ten meters between them, the Mandalorian spun himself upside down, aiming to shoot under the bat as he raised his blade. Unless the beast shifted swiftly, it'd find itself bisected through it's underside by the blade. Presumably shooting past the bat, counting on it not daring to grab at him for fear of his blade, he'd invert his trajectory, shooting upwards and into the air.

Clearly, he intended to take the beast to the skies, into what would be it's own metaphorical home-turf.​

​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

​

Engaging: Valery Noble | Jos Krayt​

​

The city came alive as soldiers hot dropped from ST-4's, zealots covered in prayer seals and wild looks in their eyes. To them this was the justified destruction of heresy at the bidding of their Dark Lord - for the planet, it was survival. Fires had begun in the city as flamethrowers were used to burn out the strongest urban holdouts in the city while vehicles were brought into the urban environment to help spread Mandalorian attention.​

​

Worse was the reports trickling back of militia units littered with traitors in their ranks. Bombings in the makeshift armories, sabotage of reinforced technicals, the death of dozens of trained soldiers in the first minute of the invasion. It was a destructive, terrible world - even as starfighters and bombers slowly crept into the air space above the city as the anti-air emplacements were overwhelmed.​

​

For the core of the city however, the Mandalorian presence was a powerful entity - holding back not only the Sith incursion from the ground, but air superiority as well. Jet pack troopers placed plastic explosives on the slowest of the bombers, letting them be destroyed by imperceptible flies - something only the skill of the mandalorian culture would allow for. With this in mind, the incursion of possessed traitors under Empyrean's control knew they were to break that final line lest this become a battle not worth winning.​

​

Arthur, as he had come to know his name, struggled against his will - but his sovreignty over his body was a myth. Darth Empyrean had dominated it and rushed forward with gun in hand like it was always him. He had dawned a helmet so none would notice his blackened eyes, but the corruption of his being was obvious to even the passing glance.​

​

The soldiers let him, and others, behind the line from various angles - he would do well here. He saved his violence for the center however, when he could find the leadership in question. Closing in, he witnessed the actions of Jos Krayt as he moved to strike at the quick deployment soldiers Nito had sent out. They could keep him distracted for the moment - he needed to deal with another matter entirely.​

​

As he rounded the corner, his eyes spotted the danger in question.​

​

"Valery Noble.", he spit.​

​

He knew she could sense him - so as the armies distracted the Mandalorians, he rushed her. His shots were frenzied and innacurate, the Sith Lord never spending time to better his shooting thinking it an archaic practice, so as he closed in he simply threw the entire gun at her with the Force and pulled out his combat knife.​

​

She would sense the fear in the man he possessed, and the anger of the Sith Lord above that. She was fighting more than a Sith.​

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Valery Noble Pyeth Raffinki Yuan Ji Thonn Rokkal Jos Krayt
Darth Empyrean Gerwald Lechner
Theme
Pendant Quarterstaff Whiskey Dye Deathsticks Pamphlets

There was a rustle of wind behind him and Tiland felt the familiar presence. Resolve, nervousness, strength, courage, and even a growing wisdom that would serve well in the coming days.

"Pyeth," Tiland said, eyes closed and his voice distant and strained. "I'm glad you're here. If you could, reach into the Living Force around us? I may be leaning on you in what is to come."

The trail of darkness was not hard to follow. He let his mind coast the currents of rage and pain that surged down towards the planet. The minds touched and for a moment, Tiland recoiled. Grotesque images flred through the mind, tormenting a lone figure in the center. His eyes studied the various forms as they vanished and reappeared.

Several he recognized from the works in his uncle's library and he frowned in distaste. The dead had no business meddling with the minds of the living. It was not where they belonged nor their purpose, but the dead were dead. Their powers were limited to that which was granted to them by the living.

Eyes, red and darkened stared at him, before a voice roiled through his mind, sending shockwaves outwards and through. For a moment, the millions of years of instinct encoded in his genes flared to life.

The hunger. Long suppressed, never sated, it roared to life. He could not harm the living from this distance, but the dead? They were within the Force. Beings of pure energy, pure rage, pure Dark Side. And his body craved that sustenance. Every cell screamed, and his mind craved that sweetness, that power.

It was tempting. The power of a thousand Sith, all at once. The images flashed through his mind- there would be peace. It would be a chance to bring an end to the wars that rocked the galaxy, to bring the Sith permanently under heel. None would be able to stand before him with a power of that level. Over a thousand years of studying the Force as a Jedi, studying the martial arts of a dozen warrior cultures, centuries honing his mind and self-mastery, the natural predatory abilities of the Anzati, the teachings of his uncle, a Sith Lord in his own right, released to the fullness of his power, amplified by the dead.

Tiland could have his revenge, his justice. Hunt down his uncle and put an end to him once and for all, repaying the crime committed against his father. His mind reached out, automatically, hungry to devour the spirits that tormented this unfortunate youth. The tendrils in his face twitched and screamed.

But the way of the Dark Side was a trap. It destroyed everything it promised. And it served only itself. It would twist even the best intentions and the strongest mind. That still, calm voice in his mind reminded him of that. And he was himself once more. Old, even by the standard of Wookiees. Impossibly ancient by the standards of humans, yet only middle-aged for his species. Some considered him wise. Others considered him powerful. But Tiland knew him only as he was- a flawed and fragile mortal, inescapably small in the grand scheme of things, and without a hope of the power needed to control and contain the Dark Side.

The presence of the Sith slammed against him, and Tiland let himself be pushed away, pulling the Sith's presence with him, into a memory of his own. But the dead would have no power in this memory, for it was protected- easily shared and captured in perfect detail, as Elder Walker-in-the-Sky had taught him. It could not be forgotten or altered. Such was the two-edged sword of the skill. It meant suffering and pain could not be forgotten or softened by pain but relived exactly as it happened. Yet Tiland accepted that. He would not be the Jedi he was without those experiences.

Flames were replaced by the stillness of water. The tormented forms by the figures of other Jedi, blurred by the distortion from looking under water.

This memory, however, was of a different lesson- that of the Golden Sun. A hive-mind of sentient coral, living in harmony with each other for millennia and acting as a conduit for the people of their world. It healed, guided, and aided those in its presence. In many ways, it was a microcosm of the Force.

The memory was still. At peace. Not just physically but spiritually. It hinted at what achieving true Oneness with the Force might mean.

"The dead have no power here," Tiland let the thought transfer through the memory. It was disconcerting, looking through his memory and his present being. But there was peace here. Not just Tiland's peace of mind but the vibrant, buzzing peace of the Cosmic Force.

As old as the universe itself, stretching backward and forwards through time, from the birth of the universe to its death, tying all things in all times together. Worlds lived and died, and stars were born and went supernova. In the face of the Cosmic Force, all were small and inconsequential. Life and death were intrinsic parts of the cycle, in balance and sustaining each other.

It hummed through Tiland and he cast out his mind to the others who had studied under the Golden Sun- Coren Starchaser Ijaat Mereel , Jend-Ro Quill , Amani Serys , and Romi Jade . He drew upon their strength as well as his own, hand clasped around the pendant around his neck, letting it flow through him and wrapping around the memory bubble in the image of vibrant, radiant silk as he had learned on Corellia.

It would shield them, for a time, from the incursion of the dead and the Dark Side of the Force, surrounding them in the Force itself made manifest, and perhaps even cut off the sorcery from the world below.

"The power of the dead is dependent upon that which is granted to them by the living," Tiland said at last, fixing the mental face of the Sith in his mind, speaking directly outward. "Is this who you wish to be?"

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Tag: Tiland Kortun​

​

His mind was cleared of the Jedi, but the Jedi still persisted. He could not be pulled from the confines of his mind, the Worm wouldn't allow it - lest he be overhelmed by the briefest lapse in concentration. Were it not the Worm, then it would be Death; so instead his mind fractured once more to continue his assault on the world, the sustaining of his own life, and to placate the efforts of the Jedi.​

​

A piece of his spirit, of his mind, would be let into this manifestation and memory of bliss - but Maliphant stood amidst it disgusted. He looked up serenity and cringed, because he knew the depravity to which this man was implicit in, only to define it as the natural cycle. There was nothing natural about the preordained plan of the Celestials, and there would be no lulling him into another form of slavery.​

​

"Peace?", he said with annoyance, glancing between the visages of Jedi.​

​

"Is that what your casual disregard for cyclic death is? To imagine, the Jedi in all their righteous morality are the ones to roll over in the face of genocide.", the Sith sneered as his gaze fell back on Tiland.​

​

"I know what I am, I know what I am not - and I will not have a stranger with a complex try to explain to me what I will be. Next when the Force gives you a vision, consider who is brushing the colors on its composition. Consider why this battle yet continues, consider why despite the Force's infinite strength it allows death and destruction, famine, war?"​

​

"If the Force was all good, Jedi, it would not have set me upon this world."​

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio
Location | Kal'Shebbol, Objective three
Tag | Volo Dragr

The beast grins as they had to toss the helmet off, that once sturdy beskar now crushed like a can. She watches as he takes his time to heal, it gave her a rest, time for that damaged skin to stitch itself back together steadily.

As he adorned the mask, the man could see that this beast.. And in turn, the woman he had first trapped, had a numerous kill count. Most were standard, yet it seemed like echos screamed from the creature. They had their very soul and force eaten, churned in the gut of the beast into nothing but a faint but broken memory.

What was unexpected was for this man to just start running right back at her, that blade made her cautious for sure. The beast would jump up in order to try and avoid him, tendrils of lightning stretching from her clawed hands. Just then.. A pain, an awful pain. The lightning had been able to cast, yet something in her blood was burning and horrid!

With a growl they glared at him as he took to the skies, she was confused as to why he would go there... Being a beast of flight the skies were the last place you would wish to be, something was up..

Still she takes flight with a powerful thrust up into the air, a small chunk of building debris in hand, keeping a distance from him for a time. The longer he kept his own distance the more her own wounds would heal, better yet... He was without a helmet now and could only go so high before it hurt.

Adeline goes further up, vanishing into the clouds above, unseen to human eyes.

It wasn't a question of if she would attack, more so, when? Time was on her side, and she would spend some of it to heal. Silence filled the skies for around five minutes, his senses would detect an incoming attack. Suddenly the clouds break, a large hole formed as the chunk of building flew right at him. Adeline had figured the saber would be distracted by the chunk, diving downward at high speeds to try once again to get him within her maw. The goal was to snatch his upper torso within her jaws, restraining his arms so that she could for sure crunch him down without worry. If the chunk was still there though, Adeline would instead use her speed and weight to push it down harder, landing on it with her hind legs.

Eaten or squashed like a bug, this was the ideal plan.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Trayze Tesar Darth Malum of House Marr Adeline Noctua Alina Tremiru Volo Dragr Corbin Vasher Zlova Rue​

The fierce fight between the warformed sangnir and the mandalorian worked its way away from Ophidia, causing her to turn her attention elsewhere. So she turned it towards punishing those who would abandon their discussion. These vermin would take any chance to save their skin, including trying to sell out the Sith.

They needed another lesson in fear.

The mist poured out of their wounds, their mouths and eyes, and pooled on the floor. As the mist grew thinner, the bodies grew paler and paler, skin greying first to a pallid hue, then to ash. Their eyes turned to black husks, each lit with a singular pinprick of light. Bones began to crackle as the ghouls that remained thrashed against their bonds and were released. They were wild, dangerous, and cared little about being impaled or dismembered.

All they knew was hatred.

All they wanted was blood.

But before Darth Ophidia could release them from their bonds, three spears of midnight black shot through her position. One who watched carefully could see that the Dark Lady glanced in the direction of the red twi'lek as they emerged, and the barest hint of a smile. The sorcerous powers ripped through the black silk, which burst into a cloud of dark ash.

But her presence did not vanish.

Instead a voice chimed in from above.

"Odojinya."

Perched on the ceiling like a spider, the dark lady stared down on the congregation. Her fire-scorched robes seemingly ignored gravity as she perched on the flat surface. Her hands already formed the sigil for the spell, and a dark web shot from her hands, threatening to capture the twi'lek, and potentially her own apprentice.

The web was a nasty piece of sorcery, nigh unbreakable and capable of severing the target's connection to the Force and sap their strength. Not to mention causing extreme pain.

Indeed, a lady of the Sith would endure no slight.

 

[Zlova Rue]

Darth Ophidia | Darth Malum of House Marr | Trayze Tesar | Adeline Noctua | Alina Tremiru | Volo Dragr | Corbin Vasher​

Zlova smiled and didn't move as the young and [dreadfully] respectful man apologized then threw lightening at her. Did he have some kind of Dark Jedi background? Perhaps a recent Acolyte to the ways of the Sith? It wouldn't be unheard of for a Dark Lord to parade about the woefully unprepared even into an actual war zone. Survival was more often than not the purest form of survival of the fittest among Dark Side users. Zlova had remarked how so often their philosophy was ultimately self-defeating (or self-annihilating) to those few she considered her friend.

That, however, was no excuse for being polite.

Her right hand extended forth and began to slowly circle in the air before her under the onslaught of the Force energy. The tendrils snapped and hungrily clawed their way up her arm and into her upper body. It didn't hurt like being bitten. It agonized. As it should. The Red Twi'lek, however, didn't allow her body to respond to the pain coursing through her limb and ravaging her torso. This man truly was young. Inexperienced. Unaccustomed to being brought up by a traditionalist that enjoyed torturing their apprentice as much as they did literally everyone else. To say nothing of all the battles she'd walked in and back out of alive with little to no 'proper' armor -- as a student brought up in the Style of Survive or Die.

The golden rings of her eyes did brighten as the shadows grew around her eyes, however, under the strain of the Force.

As her right hand had completed half a circle and was now held slightly off to the right, another presence design to join them. Zlova was actually pleased at the intrusion. Malum might not be -- though if Ophidia were his Master the young man should know enough by now not to let the woman know his feelings on the matter -- but the opinions of Acolytes almost always fell on deaf ears. The Twi'lek lifted her left hand and extended a sole finger to point up at the ceiling for Malum's benefit.

The polite thing to do in this moment would be to Force Push Malum away from the area of effect -- the odojinya -- to ensure it didn't just so happen to catch him.

There was half a second where a toothy grin peeled back the red woman's lips before a thunderclap filled the chamber. An explosion of light and sound flared into being for a second.

Zlova's back struck the far wall from being flung backwards from the ball lightning that roared into existence. The moment her body bounced off the unyielding surface, the Twi'lek slapped her left hand back against the wall. "Tsakwia iw Nuniji." 'Temple of Pain,' Zlova snarled through the iron gauntlet whose fingers had themselves about her lungs from the double threat of lightning and concussive force. Black tendrils began to race outward along the circumference of the room to form a confining lattice of black thorns.

A small part of her hoped the thunderclap would still have their ears ringing and they hadn't heard the incantation. It'd make it that much harder to deal with, but then Ophidia might still know ways to pierce the veil if she wished. The cage was only the beginning. After all, when you entered a Temple it was only appropriate to perform its rites. The pain was coming for those that lingered so long as the spell held.

 

[Volo Dragr]

HEAD OF THE SNAKE
ALLIES : Zlova Rue | Corbin Vasher
HOSTILES : Darth Ophidia | Darth Malum of House Marr | Adeline Noctua | Trayze Tesar | SITH WARLORDS & ASSOSCIATED DIGNITARIES
ENGAGING : Adeline Noctua
LOCATION : Kal'Shebbol, Streets
- - - - -

Bringing himself to a tentative hover as the beast soared far beyond where Volo would go without his helmet, he found himself... well, at peace was a stretch, and far from the truth. Rather, the raging fire inside him had burnt so hot it had become cold; it was not peace so much as it was the absence of turmoil.

Fortunately, he did not have to spend long waiting for the beast before a boulder-like chunk of debris was hurled at him once again. Though, rather than attack his problems head on like the beast seemed to think he would, the Guildmaster simply kicked himself to the side, dodging out of the boulder's downward trajectory.

Were it practical to consider the purpose of every attack, Volo might've considered the possibility of the boulder being a distraction. He hadn't. Still, he hadn't forgotten his initial plan as his eyes locked on the monster, following behind the boulder. Of course, it would have to alter it's own course if it were to catch the Mandalorian in it's open maw, as it no-doubt planned.

Assuming, of course, that the beast possessed more wit than it's rabid, bull-like demeanour suggested, the warrior flew off. Slower, this time. Like he was waiting for the beast to catch up. If and when it did, as it had very little other choice besides leaving the warrior to escape, the Guildmaster would wait till the very moment it tried to catch him in it's maw once again.

When and if it did, it would find itself with the unpleasant and painful predicament of twenty-four whistling birds heading straight into it's presumably weak and vulnerable maw, as well as it's face. With his first play complete, the Mandalorian dipped down beneath the beast, slowing to a near dead stop to allow it to fly right overhead, it's vision hopefully clouded by the smoke and explosions of the whistling birds, if not otherwise distracted by them.

Now a safe enough distance behind his adversary, Volo picked up speed again as hit a button on his vambrace, three missiles launching themselves from his jetpack. Each missile was locked onto the bat, and approaching from a different angle, aiming to blast the thing out of the sky like it was nothing more than a starfighter.

Whether the beast was falling or flying after his attack, Volo pressed the assault and picked up speed again, raising his blade as he flew directly for Adeline Noctua .
​

​

 

[Pyeth Raffinki]

Tiland Kortun | Darth Empyrean

"Absolutely."

Pyeth anchored himself into the moment, isolating himself from material distraction. The wind swept wastes blown away, the howling storm reduced to a whistle. It wasn't perfect, far from it.

The dark and light clashing created turmoil, a whirlwind that was swelling by the moment. He trusted in his Master's wisdom, allowing him to handle the task at hand.

Pyeth would focus on The Force itself, and currents that connected them. He touched each, drawing on their spirit into a symphony directing the currents through him.

Finally, once all was done. He willed the breeze into Tiland, touching his aura to create a connection allowing him to draw from it.

 

[Corbin Vasher]

Spoiler: Equipment

STARSHIP: Tra'tena SPEEDER: Burbr ARMOR: Gar'Katya
WEAPONS: Ravenfire - Burbr'sacitr - Burbr'sacitayr - Nuhaatyc'bedtr​

Spoiler: Tags

Volo Dragr Zlova Rue Adeline Noctua Darth Ophidia Darth Malum of House Marr Trayze Tesar​

Corbin was startled by a sudden disturbance in the Force as four souls screamed out. What was that!? He made a split-second decision, risking a move that he really shouldn't try without armor. It was actually pretty crazy to try even with armor. He used ballistakinesis on himself, sending himself flying into the air. It made his insides lurch and would have caused him to empty his stomach if he had eaten anything recently. Thankfully he hadn't. He landed shakily on the roof of the building. That move was definitely not meant to be used on the body.
He stared down through the hole in the roof the bat-dragon ( Adeline Noctua ) had made. What he saw was grotesque and horrible. One of the Sith ( Darth Ophidia ) had somehow corrupted the four remaining delegates into something resembling undead creatures! He was absolutely stunned. He had no idea how he could save them from that! To add to that, the rogue dark-sider Zlova Rue did some kind of Dark ritual and sprang up some kind of cage of dark tendrils incasing the room. He wasn't sure he could get in the room with that, and he didn't really even want to try without the protection of his armor. There didn't seem to be much point anyway. What could he do if he did get inside? He didn't know why the rogue was fighting against the other Sith, but hopefully they'd destroy each other.
There was only one thing he could do. The was still one delegate left in the hallway, outside the barrier. Corbin could feel him just barely clinging to life. He jumped down off the side of the building and kicked in a window. Out a window, back in a window, he thought. He made his way to the man, still lying where the red-skinned rogue had attacked him earlier. His neck was broken, but he was still alive, if barely.
Corbin didn't have much skill in healing. So, instead, he used the Force to hold the man's broken neck in place, so it wouldn't hit his spinal cord, and picked him up. He ran out the building. He kept running, fighting the pain his own body was in.

---

Safely aboard his ship, Corbin placed the man carefully in his bacta tank. There was nothing more he could do for the man.
He glanced toward the corner where his armor stood. Flexing the Force a bit, it disassembled and then reassembled around him. He gave a sigh of relief as the bacta pump kicked in. He was glad to be back in his familiar second skin. He felt naked without it.
He sat in his pilot seat, debating what to do. He could leave. He had managed to recue five of the delegates. But he had failed at rescuing all of them. He could go back and try to bring down the Sith, but he didn't like his odds. The only thing was that now Volo Dragr was out there by himself....

 

[Alina Tremiru]

The vampiric Sith just stood there glaring at Corbin. It was a little unnerving that she hadn't made a move yet, but Corbin remained relatively calm.

Alina did no such thing. She just left, because illusions and gotcha's are no fun.