Skirmish Operation Sundown: Tempo of War Pt. I | LS & Jedi vs. GE

[Kornon]

A sudden blast knocked Kornon off his feet. The Force had coiled around him like armor, but perhaps it was luck that the blaster cannon only glanced off his shoulder, leaving scales smoking. More luck that the following shots sailed over his head. The Jedi Master was only briefly dazed, rolling to his feet with saber raised. A walker -- a short one -- off to one of the side entrances of the forge-hall, operated by an older man with an oligarch's look about him.

A tyrant. A weak one, in Kornon's mind, but a tyrant nonetheless.

"So you show yourself!" he roared, only to be met again by a freezing wave from the droid as it scrambled to find balance. Kornon again was forced on the defensive, regulating his presence to keep himself from freezing solid. His gaze flicked around, then up -- another smooth motion, and his saber flew, cutting down a massive vat emptied of molten metal that fell between him and the droid with a crash.

"A mote of courage in a withered heart," he snarled. The droid moved to reposition, but Kornon placed his hand on the vat and sent it flying with a thought, knocking the droid over.

"Are you a servant of the dark, or merely a servant of convenience? Your actions will be remembered all the same -- as in, forgotten. These ones will write the histories." Saber returned to his hand, he threw it, slicing through the air towards the governor's walker.

Edmund Vue III ​

 

[Edmund Vue III]

OPERATION SUNDOWN: TEMPO OF WAR​

Spoiler: Personal Equipment for Engagement

Service Special Small Pistol
( 2x) IG-Series Droids for Personal Protection

Governor Drachmas Venti, Balmorran Arms Factory

As the SD-10 Battle Droids advanced against both Thalen Dhorain and Tilon Quill on the landing pad, a feeling of victory permeated among the Corporate Commanders.

They utilized every resource available to them to fend off the Jedi Incursion, despite losing some sectors due to natural planetary resistance fighters and their lack of preparation to confront seasoned Jedi Lords in the Imperial Capital itself.

Within the Balmorran Arms Factory, there was a fleeting moment when it seemed that Venti had gained the advantage, as the blaster cannon's round impacted Kornon 's shoulder, leaving a charred mark on his scales.

However, this only seemed to provoke the Jedi further, as the second AR-S Siege Battle Droid was obliterated after being hurled into the air and crashing onto a pile of nearby munitions.

"I am Governor of Balmorra. I do not need lectures from an overgrown lizard with a passion for destruction." Venti rebuked him from inside the CAP-2 Captivator model model as it completely rounded the corner, coinciding with a lightsaber that spun towards him.

He had scarcely enough time to evade, as one of the walker's arms grasped the railing and pulled him down to the ground to confront the Jedi directly. His hand swept down, slamming against the lever.

The walker's leg surged forward, a blur of durasteel, and a crate of thermal detonators launched across the room, rocketing directly at the barbel Jedi.
​

 

[Tilon Quill]

"I've done enough. Staying out there will just make me into a casualty."

Of course, he wasn't going to sit back and relax whilst waiting for them to lift off. There were still people in the freighter that needed to be moved and Thalen could do that, even if he currently only had usage of one arm. The Force had a Will...but Thalen had determination.

As the SD-10 Battle Droids advanced against both Thalen Dhorain Thalen Dhorain and Tilon Quill Tilon Quill on the landing pad, a feeling of victory permeated among the Corporate Commanders.

BALMORRAN ARMS FREIGHTER A-651
CARGO SECTOR 194 LANDING PAD
ARMS FACTORY
SUNDARI FLATLANDS

Tilon's ACP repeater shivered empty. He laid the big gun aside and gave a hand to one of the people that Thalen Dhorain had dragged in. A Sworn Host medic took over to hustle her into one of the shuttles.

"More than enough," Tilon told Thalen, reloading. "I had my doubts about that stick of yours, but you held up your end. If the Lightsworn give medals I'll put you up for one."

An alert rang down the steps from the bulk freighter's small bridge. Shields at ten percent, and they'd need some for the exit. He scaled the steps.

The droids' blaster cannons made it through the threadbare shields as often as not. Fire skipped through the cargo hold. Knowing he'd wonder for a long time if he regretted this, he raised Freighter A-651 off the landing pad.

He tapped the fractal radio to Henna Ashina

"Taking off, Command."

That was all he had time for. He slewed around to the right vector, still taking fire. There'd be a moment here where Jedi could still make a jump onto the ramp. That moment was rapidly closing.

 

[Shinzou Ashina]

[ Theme ]

Shinzou Ashina

| Location | Balmorra​

| Objective | Disruption and Babysit​

​

Shinzou descended as his blades made contact with his foe. The saber in his hand sparked as it was resisted by the shield, staying in steady contact with the barrier as his shorter Ashina blade found success in bypassing the shield, slicing across the Cleric's chest as it carved through calcified flesh. A swift rotation of his grip and the wakizashi's blade shifted, now held in reverse as the blade's tip pressed itself against the Kissai's throat. ​

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His singular eye was focused intently on the individual before him. Had he been a younger version of his self, he wouldn't have hesitated to spill his enemy's life through their throat with a single swift gesture. But he wasn't that man anymore and had more pressing matters to attend to. A quiet hiss escaped his lips as he exhaled, still feeling his skin crawling with pain from the flames before speaking, "Seems like I do. Lucky for you I'm in a bit of a rush, so I'll let it slide this one time." ​

​

His sabers deactivated as they pulled back to his one hand, stowing them away as he continued to keep the Ashina blade pressed against the Kissai's throat, "You tell your emperor that the Ashina clan defies his empire, and that the Lightsworn will come for him. I'd consider taking up a different career path by that time." He slowly withdrew his blade away from their throat, blade precisely gliding just over their body where they wouldn't cut the Cleric any further unless they decided to make any sudden movements. Hopefully, the Kissai would stay down, but Shinzou was on guard regardless. His foot kicked the staff off into the distance before he attempted to withdraw to pursue his previous objective.​

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Rhaec'Teth ​

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[Meliant]

Talin Treicolt Corr

Two of them now. When looters broke into the crypts of his homeworld, they always did so in groups. It was too dangerous to go alone, but they hardly did any better in numbers. It only meant more glory for the tomb guard, more tallies scraped into the walls. This was not quite the same. His positioning was not favorable, stuck as he was between these two and a humiliating plummet.​

​

Meliant played them against one another as best he could: keeping them off-balanced, knocking their sabers into one another, preventing them from properly coordinating. There was no discernible rhythm to his parries and ripostes. So it was that he kept his foes from falling into cadence. Of course, the problem was still that Meliant was on the defense, and no defense could hold forever.​

​

Molten punctures and gouges were rent through his armor as they hacked and stabbed at him. More of that smoke came creeping out, stinking of death, the Dark Side, and cavernous hunger. He kept on, unnatural creature that he was. ​

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He could fight only as long as his shell held itself together. That time was fast dwindling, and he did not expect - nor even want - one of his compeers to come rescue him. Corr lanced him through the armpit while he batted aside some strike from Talin. ​

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This was getting tiresome. He lurched away from them, off of the skewer, and for a moment it surely seemed he would fall...​

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The Dark Jedi contorted suddenly, leaping and whirling in place in a flash of crimson. The lightsabers were a dramatic flourish and a distraction - the true point of that was to deliver a kick directly into the echani's jaw and stave him off. Just for a moment - it was all he'd need to deal with his friend, the one he'd marked. ​

​

No sooner did his feet touch the ground again that he launched at her, another flurry of swipes and jabs, trying to drive her back to the roof's edge and get himself out of this corner.​

 

[Rhaec'Teth]

Allies: Galactic Empire; Edmund Vue III , Zethran Cott, Meliant , Imperius Indomitus
Enemies: Everyone Else; Shinzou Ashina ​

---

It wasn't an incredible surprise when the wakizashi's tip found his throat. The Cleric wasn't a swordsman, he preferred to do the majority of his fighting at range where his magical aptitude, one might say his connection to the force and the elements could truly benefit him. Up close, on his knees the Kissai was less of a match for the Artisian.

Eyes, strange and alien stared up at Shinzou Ashina until his lightsabers deactivated and the Artisian moved away at which point Teth hissed and his chest heaved due to a light coughing fit. Once he regained himself he was quick to reply...

"This is all only the beginning."

...the Staff, kicked away from him by the Artisian would return to the Cleric as though summoned back to his hand.

Nearby the Troopers that Teth had left behind were beginning to catch up with him. Blasterfire would target Shinzou as he withdrew.

Rising back onto his feet the Kissai held his ground rather then pursue the Artisian again. Troopers in his entourage came closer to create a perimeter of security for their lord. Teth touched the cut he'd suffered as his flesh returned to a more malleable state, lifting a clawed finger to regard the ichors there.

 

[Kornon]

Kornon raised a hand to obliterate the crate midair -- but stayed it just long enough to spot the red gleam of the detonators inside. Instead he slowed it, stopped it, held it in the air long enough for his saber to return to him, then threw the crate aside, sliding it down the hall.

Another throw, sending it spinning again towards another vat, this one above the droid to crush it -- and then another, his gleaming hunting knife whipping directly at the governor's walker. He started to move, every step shaking off the frost and burns.

"A speciesist human! How refreshing!" he snarled, rushing in an arc to the right in order to catch his saber a moment faster -- snatching it from the air to come crashing down on the governor, at the same time the vat hit the ground.

Edmund Vue III ​

 

[Edmund Vue III]

OPERATION SUNDOWN: TEMPO OF WAR​

Spoiler: Personal Equipment for Engagement

Service Special Small Pistol
( 2x) IG-Series Droids for Personal Protection

Governor Drachmas Venti, Balmorran Arms Factory

Drachmas was busy reloading the targeting systems inside the CAP-2 Captivator model, preparing for another shot from the blaster cannon mounted at the front. Meanwhile, a crate of thermal explosives was hurled away by the force, landing on a nearby conveyor belt and triggering a small explosion, sending dust swirling throughout the room where they both were.

He scanned the area through the haze, aware that his other AR-S Siege Battle Droid had been destroyed, the faint sound of burning copper wiring echoing as sparks flew. Clunk... another noise followed as Kornon 's knife sliced through the walker's left leg, forcing it to kneel on the ground while he desperately adjusted the controls to regain stability.

Then...silence enveloped the scene as a lightsaber sliced through the walker's protective bubble.

For an instant, the Governor's life played out in his mind a brief yet significant moment before the lightsaber severed his spine and continued to pierce through his internal organs.

"Damn...you..." he gasped, feeling the last remnants of his life force fade away as his body slumped forward inside the walker and it fell to the ground with a thud.

The Governor of Balmorra was no more..

​

 

[Ikuma Ashina]

OPERATION SUNDOWN

Wymar's deduction sent a chill down Ikuma's spine. It provoked the resurgence of a memory from years ago: A presence in the Force almost identical to the one before him, but among those gathered at Hirata years ago. Ikuma was just a boy back then.

Suddenly, he was lifted off his feet as the push met his ribs, his grasp on the lightsaber faltering as he was sent backwards. Wymar's maneuver was quick and precise, and the young Jedi hadn't anticipated it. His mind was muddled with visions of the past. The Force surged at his command when he hit the ground, rolling him over backward and pushing him back up onto his feet. Ashina steel hissed against its scabbard: a short blade quickly pulled from Ikuma's hip.

"You used to be one of us," he rendered. In their years of dormancy, many former crusaders had gone their own way. Ikuma struggled to rationalize that one who had fought alongside his father on Dromund Kaas would go the way of the dark.

The sound of engines and repulsors heralded the imminent conclusion of their operation. Ikuma spared a glance at their Trojan Horse slowly gaining altitude. Looking back to Wymar, the swelling that had begun around and above the wound on his face was evermore apparent. His right eye had nearly clamped shut. A persistent watering blurred one half of his vision.

There was no time, and this fight wasn't winnable.

"We'll settle this next time," Ikuma asserted. A hand reached forward to send a torrent of loose objects spiraling towards Wymar. Using that opportunity, Ikuma ran, propelled himself through the air with the Force, flipping once and landing gracefully onto the ship's loading ramp. He lingered for a moment, taking stock of the former Crusader from above before eventually turning and disappearing into the cargo hold.

_____________________________________________________

Wymar
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[Talin Treicolt]

He sure did look rough, with smoke pourin’ outta every which way, but Talin didn’t look much better. The flurry of blows was wearing on her, lil’ lines of crimson bloomin’ in a dozen places - and she was so tired. They hadn’t even been at it all that long. Her bad arm grew heavier with every step, slower to meet every slash. Still she pushed - with Corr beside her, the stakes had grown.

"Taking off, Command."

That was bad. That was really bad. Shots and engines echoed across the sky as their getaway ship came round the roof and left again. The words sent panic coursin’ through Talin’s body. Maybe they could get away from this guy and find a hangar ba-

Woosh.

A kick to the stomach sent the air flyin’ outta her. Logistics had distracted her enough that she stumbled, and the nightmare she thought seized the opportunity. Falling to her knees, she inhaled a gasp trying to… just… brea… the reactive roll to his follow up was too slow. Pain overcame every sense as the saber cut through flesh and bone at the elbow of her bad arm.

Corr | Meliant​

 

[Tilon Quill]

BALMORRAN ARMS FREIGHTER A-651
ABOVE THE ARMS FACTORY
SUNDARI FLATLANDS

Thank feth itself, the blaster cannon fire slacked off as Tilon got to fifty metres' altitude and moved out of the very hot zone that had been CARGO SECTOR 194 LANDING PAD. Shields were down to seven percent and flickering. Five. Four.

Rapid footsteps on the narrow metal stairs from cargo bay to bridge. "Captain!" One of the Jedi who'd jumped aboard at the last second. "Treicolt - one of the Treicolts - she's badly hurt. Turn around."

Tilon bit back something formless - three, two, but this could be workable - and squinted at the all-around camera displays, guided by the Jedi's stabbing finger. He slewed the freighter toward the confrontation between Talin Treicolt , Corr , and Meliant . Every weapon was shot to pieces and he wouldn't have trusted them for close-in work like that anyway, not with a casualty. He couldn't get lower or those big droids would finish the job. He didn't have a functional tractor beam; he didn't have the coma gas torpedos on his own ship; he didn't have enough fine-point control for a ramp scoop, nor a net, nor a sonic emitter, none of the tricks of the trade.

What he did have were a bulk freighter's artificial gravity plating, and an absolute fuckton of wounded Jedi.

He opened the ramp and smashed the intercom. "Roll in five seconds. Casualty pickup, Force pull like your lives depend on it, now."

The shields failed with a resonant thunk. Smoke from his smoldering hull obscured the monitors. He overrode the skew safeties on the artificial gravity generators and rolled the freighter a quarter turn, leaving everyone aboard standing ninety degrees off angle compared to the planet's surface. Completely sideways.

The ramp pointed at Treicolt and her friend from fifty metres up. The absolute fuckton of wounded Jedi all did their very best, so far as Tilon could hear, to yank Treicolt and Corr up to join them.

 

[Corr]

It was a struggle, a battle that felt uphill despite the continued slashes and stabs that met Meliant. Could he die, Corr was left to wonder with his fading hope, and if so, how? A man died when you ran him through with a lightsaber, but whatever he was... it was far from just a man.

Corr rushed back in with a high, overhead swing that resulted in a booted foot cracking him in the chin. His mouth may have been closed, his teeth clenched tight, but it felt as if it was all open and rattled in a moment of disorientation as he stumbled backwards. His eyes closed, blinked shut, and he breathed. Desperate to return, even if a fraction of a second had truly passed. Yet, in that time the clash of lightsabers hissing against one another changed. Something different, something sickening.

"Talin!" He screamed, her arm cleaved from her body with nothing but seared flesh left in its place. Corr did not rush for Meliant, but the kneeling Jedi in some bid to reel her back from whatever blow that might follow. He pulled back, further and further, and when there was little roof left to them, and hope, they began to rise up into the air.

Talin Treicolt - Tilon Quill - Meliant

 

[Meliant]

Talin Treicolt Corr Tilon Quill

​

One wrong move, and Meliant took her arm off at the elbow and brought her to her knees. He took a moment to relish the pain, the fear, the confusion - all rolling off her in waves. It would take a very serene Jedi indeed to react with indifference to such a loss. Still, he would need to make this quick. Kill this one, consume the other.​

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"Don't worry. It will be a good death," he told her, raising one blade to her neck. "Better than you deserve."​

​

He pulled back and prepared to execute her, only for the echani to come barreling back into the fray. He snagged Talin away just in the nick of time, prompting Meliant to hiss several Ancient Sith invectives and slash futilely at the air. He briefly gave chase before they were conveyed into the evacuating freighter.​

​

Meliant watched their departure into atmosphere from the edge of the roof, now noticing that much of the factory had been converted into a wreck. While he appeared to accept this turn of events with silent indifference, he much later - while departing the factory - would punch a hole into an unlucky piece of drywall.​

 

[Kornon]

Kornon withdrew his saber, pulling his knife back to his hand. Gently, he pulled the the governor from what would have been his steel tomb, and carried him deeper -- through the inner chambers, until the Force guided him to a private landing pad. A ship, a sort of ornate shuttle, small and sleek, awaited them; he ignored it for now, and laid the governor's body on the ground, letting him face the stars.

"These ones are not this crude matter," he said, drawing his knife. A nick of his thumb, and he closed the governor's eyes for the final time, lids green with Kornon's blood. "May you find the Light. The rains take you."

He left it at that; the governor's remains would be judged by the elements, now. Still, he wasted not, fishing out the means to access the ship ahead of him from the man's body.

He sensed the departure of the others -- the other guardians of Barab having joined Quill aboard their freighter -- yet one, at least, remained. Kornon powered on the shuttle, and rocketed off in search of his ally.

Interrupting Kyric's battle came the roar of starship engines; a brief circle got him closer, as Kornon slowed the shuttle to cruise by, opening the landing ramp mid-air. Even as the wind whipped past, his voice cut through the noise, roaring from the landing ramp: "Young Karis! It is time to depart!"

He held a hand out, beckoning the Jedi Knight.

Edmund Vue III | Kyric ​

 

[Kyric]

Unable to find purchase against Imperius in the opening exchange, Kyric remained on the defensive across their bout. His foe matched the kiffar in speed. And the titan's skill with his blade left little in the way of openings to exploit. The dance continued, neither warrior scored a meaningful strike. A stalemate—one forged in the essence of two incorruptible wills.

Kyric weighed the odds on a battle of attrition. His opponent's armored frame made for a difficult—perhaps impossible—hurdle if the Jedi wanted to win. Not to mention the intense precision required to always dance just at the edge of each attack. It was a dangerous game; even a single mistake fatal.

It brought a smile to his face.

This was what Master Ashina trained him for. To act without hesitation, to strike hard and fast, fatally concise.

The Jedi Knight hoisted his blade up, level with his chest and parallel to the sky above. He slid a foot back, pointing Resolute at the Monolith's heart in promise.

Falling to her knees, she inhaled a gasp trying to… just… brea… the reactive roll to his follow up was too slow. Pain overcame every sense as the saber cut through flesh and bone at the elbow of her bad arm.

And then a beacon of pain pierced the battlefield. It called to Kyric louder than even the yearning for war and smothered his desire to cross blades any further. Somewhere out there—Talin, his charge, faced mortal danger. When he pictured her, he saw the silhouettes of two hands entangling her in crooked fingers. They dragged her toward a shadowy gate with each heart beat.

The roar of an engine shattered the trance-like vision. Kornon's voice echoed in Kyric's commlink.

"Young Karis! It is time to depart!"

Kyric's priorities rearranged themselves within his mind in an instant.

Escape. Survive. Find Talin and do everything in his power to save her. And that meant getting the hell out of Dodge and rendezvousing with the rest of the Host ASAP.

The kiffar turned and ran down the hill. He sheathed his blade, shifting his concentration to an empowered leap that carried him from the dirt to the ramp. On impact, his boot caught on the edge of the ramp and Kyric slipped forward. The momentum threatened to pitch him back out into open air, but Kornon's strong grip found Kyric's wrist and yanked with all the might of a barabel.

Kyric stumbled up the ramp after Kornon, the ship rising rapidly into the sky.

---

Tags: Kornon

 

[Corin Kaze]

Stardust.

His mismatched eyes narrowed on the word; seeing it plastered on crates with pieces of something greater inside, scrawled on walls that marked these areas as restricted beyond belief, and typed out onto datapads and terminals. He pushed the freshly-made corpse off of the terminal in an attempt to access the information, although it resulted in a dead-end each time. Corin was no slicer.

He placed a device into the console, the raw files beginning to transfer across.

Corin glanced around the room, knowing it was only a matter of time before more Imperial stormtroopers came rushing in. The bodies within freshly cut, steaming from slashes that seared through their armour and the redirected bolts. Even now, the distant beat of footsteps came clunking towards the console room. Too late. Corin pulled the device, stowing it away, before welling his focus in the Force.

The stormtroopers came barreling around the corner, finding the room empty. Corin reappeared on the shuttle. The information on this 'stardust' still locked away.