Invasion Double Tap | TSC Invasion of COV-held Abregado-rae

[Naniti]

Naniti growled even after the man had been successfully flung away. Then she started the slow prowl toward him. Oh, yes, she could have used the Force and been over there in a second to slit his throat. Tactically it was the prudent move. Tactically. But what about Abregado-rae spoke of tactics now? They had a plague. They had the dead prowling over the surface of the world and haunting the stars above. Was that tactical? No, it was theatrical. It was Sith. Because why go to war if you couldn't savor it?

Feydrik Munin apparently understood that, or was simply too pig headed to die. Whatever the case, he managed to not only get to his feet, but launch himself back into the fray without hesitation.

Both arms were brought up to guard against the right punch the man leveled at his opponent. The second he made contact and the violet Togruta began to slid backwards under the force of the impact echoes of What If scattered like buckshot from the barrel of a gun. Dozens of Togruta burst into being moving in multiple directions to dodge, deflect, counter, and get flung back from absorbing the blow.

It lasted only for a second. The time it took Naniti to fly back down the corridor, her feet sliding and scraping along the debris scattered floor. Once she came to a stop all the of Possibilities winked out of existence as suddenly as they had appeared.

Agony sourced from the arms, but soon lost in the noise of it simply being a state of existence, enveloped the Togruta as she stood there on her feet. Her hands still clutching the deactivated sabers didn't lower as the sensation crashed against her ability to think, to feel, or see. Was she awake? Alive? The thermal war outside no longer registered on her skin. Her montrals didn't even ring from the impact -- for them to ring she had to hear.

After a long, drawn out second, Naniti coughed up a splatter of blood. Her hands still didn't lower as her fierce, blue eyes slowly lifted to look between them at Feydrik.

One foot lifted and then stomped down on the floor. Vibrations shot through the duracrete, and loud snaps and pops of the toughened building material filled the air as Naniti took a page out of Feydrik's book -- destroy the floor beneath your opponent's feet. And, in this case, since the man could fly, launch herself forward and use the wall to close the distance once more. A good downward kick to the head to help him prostrate himself for forgiveness below would be a nice start.

 

[Astra Sadow]

Astra trusted Leontis Antalis to do what he took ownership to do. He'd shown only competence throughout this conflict. Even moved forward when the enemy drew near -- though he hadn't stayed there the entire time. Change was often gradual. Sometimes spurred by influences, but to make it stick one required patience.

At long last, however, he asked a question that drew her attention with a smirk stretched upon her lips. He retracted his forward inquiry almost as quickly as he'd offered it. "Mystery and intrigue, General, are more captivating socially than lightsabers and lightning." Leontis was the first in the Covenant to witness her true nature on full display. Not just outside, but with her fangs literally bared at his throat. Even that wouldn't have happened if she hadn't been in the throes of hunger. Regenerative ability required energy, and energy required blood -- or life force. It took a lot out of a woman.

Their exchange was cut short by the bombardment that sought to flatten the spaceport. Astra's mirth darkened as her eyes turned toward the display and the crash of duracrete being pulverized nearby filled the area. Even the insulated walls of the lab weren't thick enough to silence the disaster outside.

When a second volley was unleashed, however, the dark Corpo bite her thumb and began weaving an alchemical circle in the air using her own blood. The tips of her fingers cradled the manifestation after she'd laid its equations, and then thrust it upward toward the ceiling. "Even the most courageous soul is afraid of what lurks in the dark," she said to no one in particular as her blood suddenly ignited.

The small circle grew until it faded through the walls of the lab. A storm of black mist began to bleed through the fabric of reality just over the spaceport. It concentrated and and spread overhead until it covered most of the spaceport proper, the labs, and the ships that had touched down. A churning, writhing, devouring pitch that had no contour or depth as light itself could not escape. Those under its canopy were bathed in shadow as deep as night itself save for the light that scattered in from beyond the circumference of the sea of obsidian above -- enough, perhaps, to see dimly without nightvision. Much like a night lit entirely by a moon's merciful bounty.

A sea that consumed the third volley.

A heated sigh escaped Astra as she stood there. Yes, hold. Leontis' words registered. It was difficult to hold back the need to devour something in that moment, but she'd not yield to the temptation where so many could see. It had been too much to lose control of a single set of eyes, let alone all those huddled in the mobile lab.

It would be over soon. The Sith would drive the Mandalorian fleet to higher orbit; or they would depart on their own with the intention of returning. Or perhaps not. Astra couldn't care about that far flung future. Not yet. First, they had to survive. Then they would turn the tables in their favor.