Faction King of the Hill -Diarchy (and friends)

[Maldor Sancetti]

The Lilaste Order LAATs soon responded to requests for aid, swiveling to bring their thrusters to bear on their target: Not enemy troops this time, but rather the enemy smoke screening them from detection.

The smoke should have been quickly dispersed, but some force was in action here to create a counter-pressure force. It seemed to Maldor that force-users on each side were manipulating the atmosphere, trying to maneuver conditions to their advantage.

As that battle raged, repeating blaster bolts lanced out from the shrouded enemy positions. Not wildly. Careful bursts. Aimed bursts. Rellik was neither a fool nor was he impulsive. He did not recklessly seize upon a momentary advantage. Rather, he sipped from its cup with a discerning palate, tasting for the moment the battle might turn.

Finally, though, it seemed the atmospheric battle was beginning to go in his favor. The vectored thrust pushed aside the curtain of smoke. But it did not come without cost. A burst of blaster-fire peppered one of the LAATs, and the combat computer overseeing this battle declared it a casualty.

Maldor gritted his teeth as he advanced. Reign's forces returned fire, of course, claiming some casualties of their own. But there was definitely the sense that things had not gone their way so far.

Drones began to swarm in, met by mysterious gusts of wind. Unfortunately, these devices had been designed with atmospheric flight in mind. A few went astray, but nothing short of a full-on hurricane would sweep them all from the sky.

They began spiraling down, bumping soldiers to force them out of concealment or cover, allowing Rellik's men could shoot them. Maldor had to sweep his training foil in wide, continuous arcs to deflect both Blaster Fire and drone charges.

At least the Lilaste forces were doing well. It seemed Laphisto was immune the the obscurement of the smoke, and his troops had made advances under his direction, even without the LAAT's thrust vectoring to clear the man-made-mist. So, that one flank had been advancing fairly steadily.

An entire battle could hinge on one flank. It was not to be despised.

Maldor marched on, not far from his Diarch. If he could get within arm's reach of the enemy, he could begin to repay them for the casualties they'd inflicted here...

Then Lyssara appeared and gave a challenge. Maldor maneuvered in case it would become necessary to fight her.

"Are we honoring duels in the middle of this battle?" He did not know the full extent of Reign's battlefield etiquette. The Diarchs tended to be frustratingly honorable at times.


Sâs Pen’kar Zara Saga Lyssara Thrynn Daniel Washburne Xian Xiao Zinayn Iandre Athlea Diarch Reign Maldor Sancetti Yorran Vosk Laphisto @Diarch Reign

 

[Nyva Shei]

From the beginning, I've found her reckless. She didn't listen to the briefing; she immediately went off on a mission to gather information and look for someone and I know exactly who it is. So, naturally, I decided to follow her to cover her back with my sniper from afar.

My invisibility skill is incredibly useful. It allows me to position myself anywhere unnoticed. She gives me simple instructions through our personal commlinks.

"If you ever see Ryu, don't touch him he's mine. Neutralize anyone who gets in my way, is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress, I understand."

When I see her heading toward the tower, with the Diarch Reign standing in front of it, saber drawn, I have to admit I get a little scared. She's drawn her own Nightsister blade too, which is odd; normally she always uses her lightsaber, but this time she's chosen differently.

Her obsession with Ryu… neutralizing everything and everyone else just to face him alone at this point, it's more than visceral. Why is she so desperate to prove something to him? I mean… he's just a man, isn't he?

I glance outside. Troops are moving. I'm no longer alone here House Sancetti is out, watching to see whether the Mistress becomes a problem.

I sneak up on one of their units and discreetly steal a walkie-talkie, then change positions. I observe everything through my sniper scope and remain on standby. I activate their communication channel directed to Maldor Sancetti

"I am here, and i don't hesitate to shoot you, if you interfere i see you in my visual. The mistress is in, my under protect. "

That stolen walkie-talkie is quite handy. This little threat should make them nervous they've got other problems to deal with, and yes, I'm one of them. They can easily recognize my voice over their comlink. They know I'm not the type to miss a target. Fortunately for them, I shoot to paralyze no fatalities among the Diarchy.

The Mistress seems to have forgotten that part. She's not even pretending anymore. She only wants one man. She doesn't care about the tower that much, I've understood perfectly. But, she is not alone, i am here too.

 

[Zara Saga]

Zara loved it when they fought back.

The telltale snap-hiss of a lightsaber flaring to life cut through the haze like a challenge shouted across a ballroom floor. "Oooh," she cooed mid-leap, "we're doing lightsabers now? I feel so underdressed."

Her feet hit the ground, barely, and Iandre was already moving. Then came the hand: blunt, sudden, aiming to grapple her. "Ha, no you don't!" she started, twisting to avoid it, but it was too late. Iandre's leg snapped out in a sweeping motion. Zara, too caught up in her quip, tripped like a bad decision in high heels. She went down hard, her back smacking into the dirt with an "oof" that knocked the wind from her.

Flat on the ground, blinking up at the gray sky through the haze, she groaned theatrically. "Ugh. Rude. I just got this jacket clean."

But her hand was already moving. In one quick motion, Zara jabbed upward with the stun baton, aiming for Iandre's side. It wasn't a killing blow, or even particularly graceful, but it was desperate and sharp. Her boots kicked at the ground beneath her, trying to slide herself out from under Iandre's looming form while striking from below.

"You better not be smiling under that helmet," she growled, the glee in her voice utterly betraying her.

Iandre Athlea​

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto continued directing his troops with professional precision. As the smoke cleared, helmet HUDs toggled dynamically between thermal and infrared modescycling through spectrums depending on tactical need. Once visibility normalized, the filter systems disengaged, returning views to standard optical.

One of Lilaste Order's primary psychological tools lay in the distinctive crack of their weapons. Soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder, unleashing round after round in tight salvoes: rubber-coated stun slugs that echoed sharply through the valley. Each shot was half-loaded engineered to disable rather than killbut the sonic boom and sharp impact created a potent fear factor.

The rounds thundered into makeshift cover, ricocheting off stone barricades and bunker edges. Some whizzed mere inches from infantry, eliciting instinctive dives and staggered retreats. Others struck with precision, delivering high-voltage jolts that sent wearied simulation targets wheeling backward, convulsing in spasms before collapsing under the non-lethal shock.

Laphisto was far too focused on ground coordination issuing commands, scanning movement feeds that he didn't even notice the gust of wind Xiansent toward him. Not until it slammed into him, hurling him off balance, did he register it. For a moment, he was airborne debris: grit slamming into his armor, wings shaking in turbulent gusts. Then he wrenched control of the air and unleashed a compact shockwave from his centerblasting the lifted dust away and clearing his space. The debris dispersed outward as he rumbled into a steady hover.

With his Force Sight still active, he pivoted his gaze toward the origin of the attack and spotted Xian hovering ahead his
His eyebrow arched in surprise. not anger,-despite the glair plastered on his face but a calculated respect. She'd executed that gust with precise timing to compromise his lift commendable and shortly after spotting her he surged forwards With a beat of his wings In one seamless motion, he ignited his saber and extended it from his right handblade poised in a fluid arc aimed at intercepting her the moment he closed the distance. Yet he remained fully ready to barrel-roll out of the way if she shifted focus or attempted to counter.

Xian Xiao

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Inventory - Conviction - Blooded Seer Cloak - Spear

Diarch Rellik floated above with preternatural grace in defiance of the chaos below. His boots never touched earth. He hovered just ahead of the advancing Diarchy line, cloak billowing behind him, golden saber Conviction casting a muted light through the dissipating smoke. The hum of E-Webs and clash of non-lethal bolts were the heartbeat of the battlefield.

Below him, the Diarchy Internal Security Force and clones moved in perfect discipline, shields locked in a testudo-like wall, their advance a crawling fortress of resolve. Smoke clung to them like a second skin, curling around the flanks as troopers fired from the inner corridor. Tarn, he thought with satisfaction, has them moving like a hammer. The moment the drones dispersed their payloads, the entire forward column surged forward.

The battle was going to their advantage, Xian was doing good. His gaze found Laphisto, cutting through the sky like a blade of fate, wings spread and saber ignited. Rellik's fingers curled tighter around the shaft of the Spear of the Star-Fallen King, the weapon vibrating faintly with anticipation. Kiev'aran to Kiev'aran. It wanted the challenge. The warden yearned for it. He is not our quaary. The words were more reminder than command. The spear quieted in his hand, the vibration subdued, patient for now.

Then came the shift.

Laphisto looked stoic as ever, hanging above the combat. Rellik ever thinking that their fights were as equals in the grand scheme and one day he would need to test those waters again. Instead he had to deflect bolts, keep his men in line and win the games. Not admire Laphisto. Yet, he did for a moment and in that moment he breathed. With every wingbeat, the swirling fog parted like tides around a stone, pulled in and scattered by with force to their flanking units.

Moments later, the Lilaste Order LAET/I's came roaring in, thrusters vectoring with violent precision. The pressure front from their engines blasted down the remnants of the smoke column in bursts, carving through the mist until the entire forward line stood exposed. No more curtain. No more concealment.

Now came the punishment.

The Lilaste Order dug in, iron disciplines taking hold. From elevated nests and hastily raised rock walls, the rhythm of stunfire doubled. Round after round cracked through the air, measured, focused, unrelenting. Their salvos weren't meant to win outright, they were meant to break morale. To punish those who dared stray beyond the wall and they did.

And still, the shielded column held but not all had remained inside.

Rellik's eyes scanned the field with surgical precision, reading the movements, the flares of emotion through the Force. There was a certain aura he could not ignore no matter how much he tried. Through the now-cleared corridor he saw Iandre Athlea .

She stood strong, mid-command, directing the Red Lancers with the ease of a veteran. Her hands moved with purpose, shaping the terrain, reinforcing lines. She was radiant. His chest tightened but he could not linger. He could not afford to.

He took one last glance and saw his pupil Xian Xiao . She had risen to the challenge and was pelting Laphisto for his tricks. Rellik was beyond proud of her. It was not that she would win. Nor was his words about why she would face him entirely true. She had steadied her resolve and chosen to stand up for herself, for him, for the Diarchy. It was enough to make him smile deeply.

Finally, his gaze turned toward the tower. At its base stood Reign. Not hidden. Waiting. Rellik rose to the top as the Arc troopers did. He walked over to the other side of the tower and looked down at his brother, a slight tone of mockery in his eyes. His team could declare victory technically. A rather interesting idea but that was not the point of these games. Lets see who can hold it for some time not just land here.

Then he raised his spear and hurled it to the ground, the weapon tore through the air with a scream of promise, embedding itself in the ground at Reign's feet with a thunderous crack.

"Hold onto it," Rellik called out, his voice layered with steel and memories of when he fought with his brother against their greatest challenge. When they fought Kakus for their lives. What their father said as he challenged them. "Face me if you dare."

An invitation to rise. The same one their father had given them so long ago now.

Sâs Pen’kar Laphisto Iandre Athlea Xian Xiao Diarch Reign Maldor Sancetti

 

[Tarn Ekkard]

Tarn moved like a stone in a river, unyielding against the tide of chaos. The testudo formation surged forward under his command, shields locked, boots pounding into dirt. Smoke curled low over their formation, a tactical veil now thinning, betrayed by jet-wash "those damn LAATs overhead. Vehicles weren't supposed to be in play." He scowled beneath his matte-black helm.

"Shields up! Advance three paces! Inner line rotate, bump, and grind through to get clean shots. Follow the enemy tracers. We hold, we win!" he barked over the squad comms. The column responded in disciplined rhythm, but cracks were forming. A few DISF troopers that were young and raw peeled off chasing targets as the fog lifted and they paid for it, twitching under Lilaste stun rounds. Tarn didn't flinch. He stomped toward the breach, grabbed the next soldier in line, and yanked him into place by the collar.

"No gaps. You leave your post, you die. Get back in the line!" Stun bolts glanced off his phrik-plated shoulders as he walked the edge of the formation, calling orders like a legionnaire of old. His armor hissed with impacts but held strong. Every jolt felt like a curse from the battlefield itself, but he welcomed it. The rookies needed to see it. How easy even he could die if it were not for his gear.

The LAATs roared past again. The blasts from their engines had cleared the last of the smoke. Tarn squinted up at them with a quiet grimace. "Cheating bastards," he muttered. But then he gave a short nod. "Good. War's not fair. Let them learn it now."

Blasterfire lit the field like lightning. The DISF and clones returned fire from within the corridor. the other half shielding the line. It worked, but just barely. Too many of these boys were trained for riot control, not war. In contrast, the clones moved like clockwork. Efficient. Brutal. Obedient. General Sellis didn't have to say much, they just executed. They flowed around terrain, marked targets with precision, fell back or advanced in unison like they were born to it.

Tarn admired them, begrudgingly.

"If DISF had that kind of cohesion sector-wide," he murmured to himself, "we'd be godsdamn unstoppable." Raising his voice again, he bellowed, "Form ranks! Eyes on me, not the fireworks! We are the wall!"

The base of the tower loomed ahead. "We've reached the objective. Form breach teams! DISF you are to protect and fight alongside our clone brothers! FOR THE DIARCHY!" The shield wall rippled, soldiers shifting formation. Almost a third of all the DISF troopers and reinforcements from the clones entered the bottom floor of the tower. Tarn at the doorway as he coordinated with both sides. The shield wall reformed at the tower's front like a reborn phalanx, only this time, their backs were to the objective. "Lock shields. Kneel. Set firing corridor. We hold here. No one gets through to the tower. Clean up this exterior."

Tarn exhaled slowly. He could still feel the stings of stun bolts across his chest and shoulders. Phrik did its job, but his bones would ache by nightfall.

"Command, this is Tarn. We've taken the exterior. Interior sweep in progress. Holding the door as told until otherwise ordered."

Zinayn Sâs Pen’kar

---

GEAR: These hands.

---

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Keeping the point of her lightsaber aimed at Zara, she was silently pleased as she watched her friend tumble to the ground. It wasn't a debilitating attack, and Iandre was surprised it had worked so easily. Then again, perhaps it was almost what she wanted.

"You shouldn't have worn something so stylish to battle."

With a relatively deft shift away, Iandre avoided the stab of the stun baton and kept her side from getting bruised. Laughing at the last comment, she allowed Zara to get to her feet. It would make this little duel far more fair. And Iandre wasn't going to fight to lose.

"Too late, dear friend."

Her voice was modulated from speaking with her helmet on, but some of the smile carried through and would be heard by anybody nearby. Almost saluting Zara by lifting her emerald lightsaber slightly, she nodded her head. Without waiting to make sure Zara was ready, the former Jedi launched a swift attack.

Unlike her Master, Zara was not nearly eight feet tall. Iandrea wasn't afraid to close the distance and made a hard jab to her chest. At the last moment, she altered the angle of the stab and went for her right shoulder.

Zara Saga

 

[Zara Saga]

Zara sprang to her feet, laughter and defiance swirling around her as she brushed grass and stubborn pride from her jacket. "You say that like I didn't plan on getting knocked down," she quipped. "It's all part of the aesthetic." She rolled her neck, a satisfying crack echoing once, then twice, before dropping into a low stance. The stun baton spun idly in her hand, a casual prelude to the chaos about to unfold. Iandre offered a salute, which Zara returned with a two-fingered mockery of a military gesture.

Then came the real thing. Zara's eyes widened slightly as the emerald blade darted forward, aiming directly at her chest. No, wait, her shoulder. Her good shoulder. Sneaky move. There was barely time to react, and though she tried to twist away, the saber skimmed past her collarbone. A low setting hummed through her jacket and into her flesh like a flash of angry electricity. Zara yelped in surprise, stumbling back as a burning ache bloomed across her shoulder. "You bantha! That was designer!" she snapped.

Then she lunged. With a snarl that was half feral, half flirt, Zara dropped low. She feinted a slash with her dagger at Iandre's hip, using the baton to swing simultaneously at her left knee. One blade for show, one for pain. Zara was betting everything on misdirection and sass to give her the edge. "You better be careful," she said through gritted teeth and a grin, "or I might actually take this seriously."

Iandre Athlea​

 

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: Tower Base
Tags: Tarn Ekkard Diarch Rellik Lyssara Thrynn Sâs Pen’kar

---

As the Myrmidons under Varlo began sweeping into the tower, Reign held his ground. His quarry had not yet made himself known, although Reign could feel him coming. He always knew where his brother was, and neither heat of battle nor distance could change that.

He was however, distracted by the appearance of Lyssara, demanding to know where Ryu Jung was.
Reign smirked slightly at her, and her defense stance with her sword.

"I know not where my apprentice is, but you will find him here, if a challenge is what you want."

His eyes narrowed slightly and he took a step forward, lightsaber moving into a more prepared stance.

"You are not my target today, but I am happy to give you a demonstration.. should you need it.."

---

Varlo and two cohorts of the Myrmidons moved through the tower, intel had confirmed that ARC troopers had managed to find their way to the summit. A way that the younger brother could potentially claim victory.

That would not stand.

"Begin a sweep, I want this tower cleansed of Rellik's forces"

Varlo barked into his comms. With multiple units splitting off to do their lords work.

---

As Reign began to advance, a spear planted itself by his feet, causing the elder brother to look up. Which is when he heard the instruction.. and the challenge.

Putting his lightsaber away, he placed a foot in a curve of the spear and held on to the top, ready to ride it like a witches broom.

He called back to his brother.

"It seems you need a reminder of what I dare do.. dear brother"

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

This isn't really the answer I was hoping for. Then again, it would've been too easy if I had gotten the info I was looking for right away. He doesn't seem to know where his apprentice is. That's a real shame. Still, he takes the time to mention that he's nearby, which just gave me an idea a bit crazy, but at this point…

" Oh, i am sorry to hear that's, i have believes stronger you can help me to find your apprentice, but dont worry, i have another ideas to find him."

He, too, stands ready with his lightsaber. He smiles and takes a small step forward, suggesting I watch his little demonstration if I needed one. Not that I really need it I'd rather save my strength for the fight with Ryu but if I have to face him, might as well do it with style.

I can see it clearly in his eyes, how they narrow as if locking onto a target. I do that sometimes, too. He starts moving will he attack me? Either way, the intent is there.

"Very well. Show me your motivation to show me your demonstration."

I raise my guard in a defensive stance, my sword hand coming forward to position the blade diagonally, using it as cover. I've got a pretty dumb idea. My presence here is dumb. Since my goal is to draw out a certain person, I might as well go all in. Releasing my aura at full power should catch that individual's attention.

Inside, I recite the Diarchy Code. I brace myself for incoming strikes, reminding myself that I'm facing one of the faction's military leaders.

Just as the clash becomes inevitable, both our eyes shift toward a spear embedding itself in the ground. I recognize it it's my Master's spear Diarch Rellik How many times have I seen that thing during training?

I see the boss strike a casual pose, practically leaning on it like a witch's broom, which makes me frown and drop my guard slightly.

I take his threats seriously. When he says he's willing to do something, he's just as sane as I am. I remind him of a bold truth in return.

"Don't forget, it was your brother who trained me. I'm going all out to draw your apprentice here. You're not my target, but I gladly accept your demonstration. Allow me to give it my all."

I shift my stance entirely, blade angled out to the side in an offensive guard. This false opening gives me more freedom of movement, and I use it to draw on the ichor.

A powerful green aura begins to form and radiate from me. No time, for fear, i front face to diarch reign. A very great warrior, if i show him i back, i am not ready to fight her apprentice. I have no intention of backing down from Diarch Reign . With this ichor aura unleashed, I tap into my unmistakable Nightsister energy. I've learned to channel it well since last time. My mother's lessons on Dathomir were… enlightening. Ryu Jung must have felt it. It's only a matter of time before he rushes over, realizing I really am about to attack his Master. My eyes turning green ichor styles.

It wasn't part of the plan, but nothing ever really is in war.

 

[Xian Xiao]

For an exceptionally short amount of time, Xian felt some pride in her attack. While he didn't go tumbling head over tail or anything, he was still surprised out of his command, which was both good and bad. The teen now had his attention, and she eeped slightly when he was able to spot her easily.

He was able to block her attempted strike deftly, and he didn't try to attack her. Her dark eyes watched him, and she narrowed them a little. The debris she had sent his direction fell to the ground beneath them with unheard thuds.

Wanting almost nothing more than to lob fire at him, she resisted that urge. They weren't here to actually hurt each other. Right now, her job was to keep him occupied. Using her Bending, she kept herself in the air, and considering their size difference, she was almost able to look him in the eyes as an equal.

"You scare me."

Wow...way to go. The girl felt like trying to fade away and disappear once again, but she was determined to face Laphisto and show some bravery.

Laphisto

 

[Iandre Athlea]

"You mean you intended for me to trip you so you could stab me in the ribs? I find that hard to believe."

Salutes were given, and the fight could begin. Her low-powered emerald blade still easily sliced through the fragile fabric of the designer jacket. Iandre didn't feel any sympathy for her friend, though. While this was a wargame and practice for battles, she was treating it as something real.

"Maybe you should dress for battle next time. Or maybe you're trying to make some new fashion statement?"

Her modulated tone might hold a touch of advice, but there was no malice in it. In a way, she was much like Laphisto and didn't get angry easily. Keeping her lightsaber pointed at Zara, she attempted to watch her friend's movements. She wasn't a dual wielder of weapons and couldn't quite comprehend what Zara was trying to accomplish.

In a moment of clarity, she took the hit with the knife that skittered across the armor she wore. Swinging her lightsaber low, she would block the baton from connecting with her knee. If Zara were still low, she would find that knee heading for her chin with an attempt to send her flying backward.

"Why not really show me what you can do?"

Zara Saga

 

[Zara Saga]

Zara's grin widened at Iandre's jabs. The ache in her shoulder faded, replaced by the sheer fun of their fight. "Oh, sweetheart, I always dress for battle," she teased. "You just have no appreciation for combat couture."

The baton strike never landed. Her friend's saber swept low in a defensive arc, knocking Zara's weapon aside. Zara barely processed the block before she saw it: Iandre's knee coming straight for her face like a gift-wrapped insult.

Her reflexes kicked in. She snapped her head aside and threw her free arm up to catch some of the force. Even so, the blow grazed her jaw, jarring her teeth as she stumbled sideways, boots skidding in the dirt. "Ow. Okay, that was rude and violent. I'm keeping score."

Regaining her balance, she spun on her heel and surged forward, closing the distance swiftly. She went high with the baton, aiming for Iandre's weapon arm in a sharp, jarring strike designed to throw off her opponent's aim. Immediately, she dropped her weight and swept her dagger low at Iandre's opposite ankle, forcing her to defend two different angles at once.

"You wanted a show?" she breathed, eyes alight.

Iandre Athlea​

 

[Sâs Pen’kar]

Diarchy Wargames​

Objective: Win the tower
Tags: Diarch Rellik | Zara Saga | Xian Xiao | Yorran Vosk | Tarn Ekkard | Maldor Sancetti

---

The mock battle went well. Fire for fire, some clones here and there were being taken out by Diarch Reign 's troops. The troops moved forward with Diarch Rellik providing cover. General Sellis was close by with a blue energy buckler and a lighter stun weapon firing at closer targets. General Sellis speaks over the comm "Let the Dragon come forward, then spring the trap. ARC commandos in the tower... You have company."

The clones spread through the ranks fall back a ways chaotically verses Laphisto 's troops advance. Only to turn back at them while on their fallback repeater positions to take advantage of Laphisto's troops push and now non organized line.



Upon the tower one of the ARC' commandos watches with his helmet mounted sight system. Taking in the field under different light settings to get a full picture of the games below. All but one of the rest of the ARC's instruct their Jet trooper brothers & sisters in battlefield tactics. Another ARC is a few floors below watching his camera to detonate his paint "bombs" that would mark people blown up. He carefully hid them to blend into the structure leading only someone who had a specific lens filter to be able to easily see it.

He waits until the first few pass the fist one before triggering it. Sending purple paint splattering everywhere. The Jet Troopers above fire from the edge of the tower taking whatever cover they can to shoot down upon the field.


On the opposite flank of Laphisto the clones lead the way with a group of Heavies with heavy weapon mounted blue energy shields leading the advancement of their allies.

---

Sâs Pen'kar stands at the holotable watching the battle unfold. Proud of the army that protects Neo Kamino.

---

Spoiler: Composition

32 Jet Troopers
50 Heavy troopers
750 Regular troopers
32 long range specialists
36 Infantry command positions (e.g. Sergeant)
50 ARC Commando's
50 Heavy ordnance troopers

 

[Ryu Jung]

After the war council, Ryu pretty much tuned out from the main battle plan and the formation entirely and went off on his lonesome as soon as the Diarchy breached the tower. Ryu found himself going through a separate entrance in the tower, one with less security as Diarch Reign's troops had breached the main entrance, thus giving Ryu more time to maneuver. He had entered the ventilation shaft where it was cramped and stuffy. But through the force he would compose himself, and find his way to his rival.

The echoes of battle were muffled through the ducts. Even though it was a mock battle, everyone was giving it their all and Ryu was itching to throw himself into the fray to prove that he was capable. It only took a bit more navigating until Ryu finally neared upon a couple of familiar voices. His master Diarch Reign and his rival Lyssara Thrynn were in ear shot, just below him. When Lyssara thought he was only going to fight his master, he ignited his lightsaber on the duct and cut a whole with his saber for him to jump out of. With the force, he sent the piece of metal flying to the floor and landed in front of Lyssara, taking a stance.

"Master, please allow me to defend your honor and deal with this witch."​

 

[Nyva Shei]

The lunatics are out I've never seen anything like it. Between the one who's obsessed and now the other one showing up, I can see them through my sniper scope; I see everything. He finally decided to show up. She forbade me from touching him with my sniper it's her duel, her way. Since everyone is in constant motion, I'll do the same and get moving. I let out a sigh; the white bishop has just made his entrance to protect the opposing king, countering the check provoked by my Mistress, because yes, to me we're on a life-sized chessboard. Everyone plays a role; mine is the knight let me explain: jump over enemy lines, drop my targets, take them down, then slip back into hiding.

That is precisely what I have to do. By threatening House Sancetti, I put the opposing tower it represents in check, forcing it to shift to another line. It's all a matter of analysis and clarity of play, but each match is different, because unknown variables can get added to the equation. I just want they don't interrupt the match, the other don't concern me directly, but i want this tower, and i go to help my team to win. Time to push the tower !

I… I have to stay focused.

Shaking my head, I take the opportunity to activate my comlink to Team Rellik: we need to capitalize on this and try a frontal assault on the tower. Let's take advantage of the faction leaders being occupied to seize the ground advantage and thus offer them a symbolic victory.

"-Okay, Team Rellik, heavy fighting is imminent at the base of the tower. The leaders and the apprentices are about to wage a merciless fight. We should take advantage of their attention being diverted to attack the tower that's what I'm going to do."

Cutting my comlink after stating my intentions to the team I belong to, I move to one side of the tower, opposite Laphisto's turrets. I'm going to take them out to give my team a strategic opening to pass through there as well. Using the tower itself for cover as I drop my Force invisibility, I tuck just into the corner to sight the high-mounted turrets that threaten any attempted intrusion. I line one up in my sniper's scope and fire to sabotage the first of the three. It's time I made myself actively useful, too. The Mistress won't mind if I take this kind of initiative. I am concentrate and i shoot the second heavy turrets, and the third dont take time to fall.

After my three shoot, i go inside the tower by a windows of the tower, i used a jump force to go here and broken a glass for invade it too.

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto blinked at the words. Confusion first, then a small pull of sorrow he didn't bother to hide. If she were an enemy, fear would be leverage. She wasn't. Apprentice to a friend. He set it aside. Not now.

He held the air on steady wings beating continuously, tips flexing with tiny corrections that kept him level. A short power stroke slid him forward, armor humming, saber settling to a low guard. No warning. He closed the last pace and dropped the blade in a clean vertical line meant to force a choice, not take a head. At the final inch he bled the cut, rolled his wrists, and let it yaw into a feint pressure without heat.

He kept the geometry simple. High line, recover with a shallow bank; low line, recover with a scissor of the tips to kill drift. A lateral slip stole space, testing how she held altitude when pressed. Every angle matched a controlled wingbeat no stall, no messy turbulence turning glide into intent. He flew the fight like approach work: small inputs, constant trim, never overcommitting.

"keep your guard up." he said, voice even as the saber traced a bright line past her shoulder and came back to guard. "watch my motions predict where ill strike next." He eased up a meter with a smooth lift, then slid across her axis and offered a probing cut designed to draw a clean parry, not a flinch. "thenrise yoru blade to meet me before i make contact."

His blade's hum filled the pocket between them. He watched altitude, spacing, cadence. If she climbed, he matched height without crowding if she held, he shifted tempo by a fraction and reapplied the problem from a new vector. The lesson wasn't in the strikeit was in the rhythm and the air: distance, timing, and a pressure that asked for the next breath, and the one after.

Xian Xiao

 

[Iandre Athlea]

She was thankful this was a test and a wargame. Or else she would have been in trouble with the exchanges she was having with her friend. The friendly banter and verbal scores were fun and distracting. Trying to get her mind to focus on the spar, she laughed at what Zara said about not appreciating combat couture.

"Ah ha. You're the one who's into fashion. I am not, and you should know that."

Throwing a hand up in mock surrender, Iandre blocked the baton but not the knife. Her friend seemed to forget she was wearing actual battle armor. Once again, if Zara remained low enough, Iandre would attempt to use her knee on her chin. So far, she had only done one real attack. Everything else had been in an action of defending herself and keeping Zara from closing the distance—a lesson she had taken to heart from her master.

"My turn."

Taking one step forward, she should be pretty close to Zara, maybe even close enough to hit her helmet against her forehead. That was precisely what the former Jedi tried. To give Zara a lovely headache.

Zara Saga

 

[Diarch Rellik]

The first floor of the tower was theirs in all but name; the DISF and Commando teams were sweeping it clean. It was Reigns Myrmidons who would press a challenge but we had taken all levels first. It was on them to get past paint bombs and fortified men at every stage. Even now, Rellik stood looking down at Reign from the top of the tower. Smugly.

He watched as the spears divot was stepped upon by his brothers boots. Rellik's fingers flexed, and the weapon answered. The air between them began snapping with raw Force energy, the brothers were a dyad - their coming battle resonated in the force with immense pressure. The build up began as he tip wrenched free from the ground.

A heartbeat later, the weapon flew to Rellik's outstretched hand, dragging his elder brother skyward in a violent, unceremonious arc. Yet, he knew it would not perturb his elder sibling. If anything he would find the experience fun. Good. Rellik would turn this to a real challenge as it has been years since the two had done such a thing.

Reign's boots struck the stone top of the tower, the two brothers now face to face, the wind carrying the clash of battle from below.

"Now," Rellik said, voice low but edged in iron. His spear landing in his hand and with that; moving into a hybrid Soresu pose where his spear came to his cheek. "Let us see how far we have come."

Diarch Reign

 

[Xian Xiao]

Using air and wind was something almost natural to Xian. It took very little of her focus to remain level with Laphisto. Her dark eyes watched him closely. Maybe admitting he scared her wasn't intelligent, but it was honest. If her path had taken a different route, she wouldn't be here holding a training saber against a man who towered over her. A man she might secretly admire, but couldn't admit it.

When he moved, she raised her bokken to meet his mock strike. Breathing in through her nose, she listened to his calm and quiet advice. For whatever reason, as they were positioned above the battle below, she felt separated from it. She had been sent to distract him, and it was clear she had succeeded as he stopped ordering the troops.

"What are you doing?"

Even to her ears, it sounded like a petulant whine, but it was a question she wanted answered. Closing her mouth, she clenched her teeth together and ground her molars slightly. Whatever happened, she did watch him and his weapon. Without much more than basic training, she could only use her instincts with him.

Laphisto