Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Put those things back where they came from, or so help me [New Order Dominion of Bimmiel]

Darth Vulcanus

Better than other-other space Kaiden
keep-calm-and-put-that-thing-back-where-it-came-from.png

The Vong had been allies of the Graug since their first meeting on Sabarene and Vulcanus had taken it upon himself to assume that the Vong were too much like the Graug. He had assumed that the Vong would all follow the strongest and that they had a clan system where the lesser clans had no choice but to bow to the stronger. He was obviously wrong in that assumption and it became apparent when a separatist faction of Vong sprung up on Bimmiel. They had, according to all reports, forsaken the ways of The Horde and decided to rebirth the Vong Empire of old.


This was a dangerous prospect these separatists hoped to achieve, it could mean disaster for the New Order if the situation was not contained. The Vong were a powerful people and their technology vastly superior to much of what the galaxy had to offer, so a preemptive strike was the only safe solution. The New Order would attack them while they were still laying the foundations of their empire, burning it down before it could even begin. It was the only way to be certain that their legacy would not interfere with the destiny of the Sith.


As of the current moment, Vulcanus was in Hyperspace and on his Xo 'Xaan Star Destroyer. The factories had yet to begin producing larger ships and probably wouldn't begin to until after the invasion of Dromund Kaas. It was no matter though, the current stockpile would be enough for now. With arms crossed and head down, Vulcanus awaited for the moment that the ship dropped from Hyperspace.
 
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
Rogue Vong.

Exactly the last thing Circe needed in her day. With the shipyards of Morellia and the factories of Telos churning out new vehicles and starships for the New Order, the very last thing she wanted at all was to have to deal with the nonsense that was a schism in the Horde. And yet here it was. She had come here to help the New Order out because of this, in order to keep their alliance strong.

"Alright... Let's get ready to build some new factories... on their ashes."
 

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Graxin had accomplished more than he had expected in the past two months. The force was slowly but surely beginning to bend to his will. He could lift things with his mind, and even feel the presence of other organics if they were close enough. He'd assassinated an Imperial defector and kept the New Order under the Republic's nose long enough for the One Sith to distract them. He'd established himself as his father's personal agent, and it seemed that not even Jedi could hold him back.

Retribution was slowly coming within his grasp.

He would have his way soon enough. For now though, he served [member="Darth Vulcanus"] faithfully. The Sith Lord hadn't executed his brother, for Graxin had spoken with the damaged man a day prior. His loyalty remained in check, and now, he stood aside the monstrous Graug. His arms were folded behind the small of his back, and his shoulder were square. He wore the light combat armor he had worn in battles prior, minus the helmet and the hood. A large, two-handed vibrosword hung from his back. He had no lightsaber, and it was the next best thing when enemies drew in a bit too close.

The Vong were a danger to the entire galaxy; not just the Sith. Graxin would follow orders as always, but for once, he had no moral obligation against this. These things deserved righteous execution.

"Will I accompany you when we strike down the Overlord father?"
 

Darth Vulcanus

Better than other-other space Kaiden
[member="Graxin Rade"]


Ah yes, the boy who still called him father. Vulcanus had been most impressed with the slaves progress, he had progressed much further in his training than Vulcanus had ever imagined he would have. The only thing that kept Vulcanus's eye on him was that he knew part of the boy's loyalty sprang from the fact that his brother was in Graug captivity. There was noway to tell if the Graug had turned him into the perfect slave quite yet and he was not yet proven enough to become Sith, but this battle would dictate that. The boy would die if he was too weak and not worth the effort of training. If he survived, however, then it would be time for Vulcanus to finally test his true loyalty and see if the boy was strong enough to become more than just a expendable pawn.

"Yes, your true training starts here. You will prove to me your true strength today, or you will die." the beast said coldly before giving a violent cough. The cough was deep and sickly, like that of a dying old man, and it expelled a rain of dark black fluid from his mouth. His time was not long for this world, soon he would completely fall apart and that's when his true test started.
 

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Graxin tilted his head partway toward the Graug Overlord. So he would be accompanying Krag into battle today. That sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. Krag knew of his deeds, for the Graug was normally the one who tasked them, but he had never seen Graxin's work up close. "I have not failed you yet, nor will I today." Graxin murmured in cold confidence. He would not fail. He could not fail, for as Krag said, that meant death. Graxin had no qualms with dying--he had been taught that his life meant nothing at a rather tender age--but the lives of his sibling depended on his performance. That was enough of a motivator in itself.

He would have remained silent there; content to watch as stars flew by in mere milliseconds, but Krag's coughing drew him out of his voluntary stupor. He looked up at the Graug with slightly narrowed eyes, a hint of concern--yes, concern for this monster in his tone. "Are you unwell father?"

[member="Darth Vulcanus"]
 

Darth Vulcanus

Better than other-other space Kaiden
[member="Graxin Rade"]


The Graug quickly wiped the fluid away from his armor, drawing his prosthetic eye to his son and growling through his cough. "It is of no concern, do not mention it again!" that was the way he needed to handle it, Sith did not show weakness and he would deny his situation even unto death.


Standing back up straight, the warlord looked to the countdown timer and saw that the ship would soon be leaving hyperspace. He was not sure of how large the Vong fleet had grown, but he was confident that the New Order would quickly dispatch whatever it was that they had. "Do not ask of the force anything, Graxin, Sith only command it to do their will. If you are to use the force as I do, you must learn to forgo all weakness!" the sudden change of subject was without warning and the Dark Lord spoke as if he had been provoked by some earlier comment. His mind was decaying, but this was a vital lesson in the teachings that came with learning to be a pyromancer.
 

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"It is a tool, not a god, I understand father." He replied quickly. It seemed that Krag was rather sensitive about his health. It made sense. Weakness was worse than anything else to most Sith, and Krag was the very embodiment of what the Sith were. For him to be unwell, perhaps dying even.... "I can lift things with my mind, and at times I can feel the presence of others. I can force others to my will if I try..." He tilted his head up toward Vulcanus, and pursed his lips. What was the Sith looking to teach him now?
 
"Are you so certain he will be the one tested today Lord Vulcanus."

The words would seem to hang in the air however from unknown origins, in truth Kiyala could have simply allowed her own aura to ride along the waves of the others who accompanied this very ship. Or she could use her rather extensive knowledge in concealment to have remained undetected upon [member="Darth Vulcanus"] ship. In truth Kiyala did not want to deal with the dark lord but too much relied on his defeat that she could not simply allow him to succeed.

Stepping from the shadows a darkness would accompany her form that was an obscured silhouette in the darkness of his chambers. Her Rancor Mark 2 freshly stocked and readied for battle as she gazed at him through her HUD display. Kiyala walked out of the shadows and revealed herself she did not care for the young boy who accompanied him so she pointed her freshly ignited lightsaber towards Krag who stood a few feet away from her.

"So what will it be? Oh I do so hope the hard way." She said laughing while awaiting his response.
 
A New Dawn Awaits.


"Your services are... no longer needed. Do not look back with any hard feelings, yes? It is our deepest concern to preserve and secure that of the Empire's well being. It is a child within a cradle, and you will soon come to understand that your dedication and bloodshed will not be thought of in vain, but rather... in a considerable manner. We cannot have you running rampant and trying to strike down those who only seek to aid in our grand scheme, you see? It is in our best intentions that you stay locked away for the betterment of the Sith and not some mad devil such as you. When you awake... know that arrogance was your downfall here, and that your disgusting display of treachery will not be forgotten by the generations to come. Your honor to the Empire is insulting. "

"My Lord... we must move quickly, you have been requested by Darth Malgus."

"Hm? Right... see to it that our patriotic friend here receives a proper burial."

"Understood, Sir."

These moments... they were the last ones to be played on a loop over and over within the mind of former Lord Dawnpierce. How his own kin could betray him and portray his actions as that of a martyr for a rebellious cause was ludicrous, absolutely absurd. The darkness that clouded every thought of his conscious consumed even the slightest chances of becoming aware of the world around him, unable to open his eyes to seek the man that had put him in a carbonite prison, now deep within the rubble of Sith ruins past. He was, at best, seen as an atrocity at times for his lack of care for what authority pressed urgency on his shoulders when faced with their most dire requests. A tool like many other Sith to be used as cover for the cowardly politicians and figureheads that kept the gears turning. In his own right, his service was tenfold that of any ordinary Sith that proclaimed victory, he took the extra step to pursue and obliterate the runners and desirable targets without any aid from his kin. A path that soon led to deception and the ultimate betrayal of the slithering cowards that labeled his services as irregular practice and a flaw within the Empire. Striking down even his own men to prove a point, or any weaklings unable to properly use a lightsaber.

The life of an adventurous man with bold decisions under his belt, Vladkione Holvand Dawnpierce once shared the sacred duty of being a Guardian of a Jedi Temple, sworn to protect and eliminate any and all threats for the greater good of the Republic. But even the Jedi strongest enough to defend have a weakness, and in this case, Vladkione's was the Dark Side of the Force. A true traitor in this right to what he was taught and swore against. Temptations and the flickering tongues of serpents whispered promises far wider of greater power if he were to fall, no, ascend into the reaches of status unobtainable by the ones who commit themselves to a liar's peace. Taking the very lightsaber he was serviced with, he began to obey the mesmorizing euphoria that gave him a higher sense of being, deliberately cutting through his own brethren with the helping hand of other invading Sith. After the fall of his former title as Guardian, he traversed back to his living space and saw the terrified expression which was that of his wife.

"V-Vladkione... what's happening? What- no...NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME!"


His lightsaber pierced through her belly, and he stood there staring her in the eyes with the lost, cruel gaze of a tainted soul so warped and guided by the Dark Side's influence. He was to have a son, a boy to learn and carry the proud tradition and pride of a Guardian if he so desired, but no longer possible. The blue blade impaled through the child and out her back, tears filled her dying expression and ever-fading rosy cheeks as she backed herself off the of burning, humiliated blade of a "protector". She fell limp to the floor with her last living breaths, watching her fallen husband walk slowly out of the room without so much as turning back. A day that will forever mark the milestone of when justice turns to maliciousness, light to dark.

A Force signature would be prevalent in the area for any close by, just waiting to be discovered once again.

Now it's time to wake up. Wake up and... smell the ashes.
[member="Darth Vulcanus"] [member="Graxin Rade"] [member="Enigma"] [member="Kiyala Demont"]
 

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"You're rather popular father." Graxin grunted. He turned to face the woman, and ran a hand through his thin beard. He'd dealt with a Jedi, and all of his fears involving their ilk had evaporated after the encounter. He tried to reach out with the force and sense this woman, but alas, he simply couldn't. ​"Hello sweetheart. I think you missed the last stop. If you want to sit in our carbonite chambers until we come back around, we'll certainly accommodate you." He tilted his head forward, and flashed a wide, almost genuine looking grin.

His arms stayed hanging at his sides. He wouldn't draw unless Krag wished him to. The woman had snuck onto a ship full of soldiers, and she seemed to be cornered rather well here. It seemed suicidal, but then again, many of the things people did seemed the way. Regardless, he let out a deep breath, and folded his arms over his chest. "You seem to be a bit of a glutton for punishment however...so, if you want to stay and play, I suppose we could accommodate you for that, too."

[member="Kiyala Demont"]
 

Darth Vulcanus

Better than other-other space Kaiden
[member="Kiyala Demont"] [member="Graxin Rade"]


"I will not be teaching you such rudimentary parlor tricks." the Dark Lord growled, turning back to the countdown timer that had just now reached 0. Violently, the ship dropped from Hyperspace and before the fleet of New Order starships was an imposing fleet of organic monstrosities. Just as it was rehearsed, the ships began to drain out their supplies of fighters and bombers and sent them towards the Vong ships. Turbolaser and hypervelocity guns let up the void of space as each ship quickly locked onto the nearest Vong vessel and opened fire.


There had to have been dozens of massive vong capital ships, much more than previous scouts had counted. "Are you so certain he will be the one tested today Lord Vulcanus." an all too familiar voice called out from the nearby shadows.


Vulcanus turned as swiftly as he could with a slowly dying body and a prosthetic leg. Before him stood a woman that he knew from the top of a building before the fall of the Sith Empire. She was a witch, wicked things from the planet of Dathomir who could have been useful assets had they not chose to ally with the Mandolorians. Vulcanus would have laughed right in her face if he wasn't so sure it would start a new coughing fit, so he let her speak her next words as she ignited her lightsaber and pointed it at him. "So what will it be? I oh so hope the hard way"


Okay that deserved a laugh, even if it came at the expense of a coughing fit. So, the Graug Warlord began to laugh in a booming voice that only shortly took hold of the bridge before it turned to a violent coughing that gave rise to more black liquid. "You are brave, lesser, that much is certain." the Graug said as he starred down the witch. With a slight glance back to his 'son' the Graug spoke, "now you will witness the strength I will teach you, Graxin. Focus your anger, draw it from the most pure depths of your rage and use it to command the force. Feel the force struggle against you and then command it to bend life to your will! Witness the full power of Sith Sorcery at its apex!" The Dark Lord shouted, throwing his hand forward and casting a vortex of fire across the bridge and towards the Witch. The vortex was made of purple and black flames and burned much hotter than any natural flame should, enough to scorch flesh from bone almost instantly.
 
The Vong were a seemingly primitive species, they were devout masochists. And they viewed any technological advances to be blasphemy. Ironically, they were regarded for just that.
These tribal miscreants were proving to be an annoyance. Even in spite of their contrasting convictions they were strong. They were a threat. They had to be eliminated.

From inside of his personal A CEC CR90 Corvette he'd look listlessly through his view port.
"General, we are going to enter the atmosphere shortly.
The skies converged into red hues as the deflector shields were set ablaze as they pierced through the air.
"Activating inertial dampeners."
A metallic hiss reverberated throughout the metallic silo. As the gravity fields reached a sense of normalcy the landing gears would snap outwards. The ramp itself slammed into the dirt below.

Leather boots struck the metallic ramp-way which cast hollow thuds that echoed freely throughout the atmosphere. "It's humid.." The obsidian cloak which he had worn on so many occasions was shrugged off with indifference.

His physique was lean. Though closer inspection on his person and one would note a hole that rested slightly on the left side of his breast, directly over one of his hearts.

Ferus.... You made me look like an abomination... For now his thoughts would be put to the wayside for he had a job to do. His metallic hand which bore a chrome finish fished into his pocket. Upon producing his com-link a high pitched shriek vibrated from it's hull. Soon a three dimensional HUD would sprawl to life. Various persons were painted upon the battle-field.
"It seems my personal vessel has eluded this planets scanners... Or perhaps not... Commandant." "Sir?" "Are we the only one's who have made entry?" The trooper's high traction soles struck the broken concrete below, he'd continue to pace into their vessel. "Looks that way sir.."
"Alright. Provide reconnaissance and sniper support, if I am fired upon, do not hesitate to shoot. "
The soldiers crimson visor was set aglow, two dots stood in the place of his eye reticles and one rested on his mouth guard.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jwAIcRc1Cs
[member="Darth Ferus"]
[member="Darth Vulcanus"]
Graxin Rade
[member="Enigma"]
 
"Ensign, Tell the Mauler to launch all bombers and send them against that defense platform. Have the fighters hang back and wait for the enemy to respond; then they can engage at will." Melkaroth yelled, sitting in his command chair. "All long-range batteries, fire on that Vong cruiser; target their shield generators!"

"Commodore, we've got an enemy light cruiser closing fast; they're targeting the Mauler!"

"Return fire, lieutenant! And tell captain Athox to hold his ground! I want those fighters deployed!"
 
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They came like meteorites. From the sky they fell, burning husks of metal that they were. What could we do against it? The Vong already ruled us cruelly, took our wives, husbands, children for their experiments. But the Sith. They came from the sky, landed in our homes, our streets. Their machines tore into the ground, burned down what little we had. From their ships they stepped out, all clad in black. There was no emotion to be seen, only the masks of those who had destroyed our possessions.

Yet they came as saviors. Not the kind in a story book, the ones who make everything right. But the ones who did what they had to to win. To liberate us from unnecessary evil. To bring us ever closer to a true lasting peace.

These were the words of a boy who survived the New Order and Vong war on the planet. He was there from the beginning, stowed away from sight. But he saw the Sith. It was his home that the main drop ship had crashed into. He watched as the now so familiar black clad soldiers came out, armed with terrible weaponry that he himself had watched blast apart Vong after Vong. But this ship was different. Out of the burning wreckage of his home he watched a man dressed in black, a free flowing robe. He saw the red skin. The black tattoos.

"Find any survivors, and bring them to me." Even from this distance the man could hear the voice of the Darth. A shiver went down his spine as he knew he would be found. He had heard tales of the Sith. Of their ruthlessness. He had no intention on being caught by them and had turned to run, only to find himself face to face with Darth Ferus himself. Fear exuded from his form as he watched the Sith, knowing that he would die this day.

But he didn't. Instead, the Sith Lord reached out and had placed a hand on his head. The boy stared up with disbelief as the Lord spoke, his raspy voice oddly soft.

"You have survived the Vong and shown our strength. The strong survive. Go onto the ship and you will be taken far from this battle. If you find any other survivors, tell them the same."

And with that the lord had left the boy. Sith, protecting him? Telling him to go heal up? But he wasn't even Force Sensitive. It would be much later that the boy realized why the Darth had shown him kindness. The New Order was not mindlessly killing civilians. No, they killed those who would put others lives in jeopardy with rebellions. They killed those who could command the Force and use it against the Order, putting innocents in danger.

This would be his belief, and one he would spread through the New Order regime. Supreme peace came only when everything was in balance. The Order was just pushing things back into alignment. Doing what needed to be done, and taking full responsibility. To the boy they would be saviors. Heros of peace.

After all, that is what he was shown.

[member="Darth Vulcanus"]
@Melakoth Tyrin
[member="Maleus"]
[member="Graxin Rade"]
[member="Enigma"]
[member="Kiyala Demont"]
 
Oh feth that was a lot of fire.

As it danced its beautiful arc towards Kiyala's body it would seemingly engulf her in a torrent of flames. The fires exceeding anything a human could handle by far, so it was probably a really good thing that Kiyala's Rancor Mark 2 armor is totally insulated. Oh yeah and also the fact that she was aware of the technique called Tutaminis which allowed her to take in the power of the fire as well as the Sith Amulet embedded in her chest to further amplify the power she was absorbing. The numbers on her HUD display finally began to level off as the attack was almost fully absorbed and Kiyala would be revealed seemingly unscatch by the fire.

The temperature had reminded her off something that she probably should have came into the fight knowing. The Graug while apparently on some level sentient was also still a reptile and where did reptiles thrive the least at. Kiyala channeled [member="Darth Vulcanus"] energy into a weather spell that would gradually cause the temperature to drop drastically below livable conditions for humans and definitely enough for a reptile. Visibly she did not move as she simply awaited his next move as she decided to play the game long term instead of simply throwing away energy callously as she has done in the past.

"I hope you come with more of a punch than that!"
 

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And thus, Graxin was freezing. Freezing to the point of immediate hypothermia and paralysis. The heat seeped away from his body and the sudden shock threatened to stop his heart. He hadn't expected this. Graxin stumbled forward, and was rather sure he was going to die right there unless he did something drastic, and he did just that.

The son of the Dark Lord had paid close attention to Krag, and listened to his words. He called upon his rage, the desire to survive and carve his own path. The desire to rescue his siblings, and the desire to see those who would try to stop him dead. The flames were small and barely sparked. Little orange crackling around his knuckles that expanded to envelop his arms. They weren't particularly strong, but they were focused, and for the moment, they would keep him alive. He knit his brow as he tried to maintain the concentration. It was all he could do to survive for the moment.

[member="Kiyala Demont"] [member="Darth Vulcanus"]
 
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
Factories. More factories.

Well, factories and shipyards, in this case. Ships were already beginning constructions of yards and space stations over Bimmiel. Not yards for anything larger than a heavy cruiser, but mainly for corvettes and frigates and the like, in order to free up space at other shipyards for larger vessels. Fighters would be constructed at ground-based facilities, being transported back up to capital ships once finished. And Circe was here to make sure everything went to plan.

Well, her and [member="Alicia Drey"].
 

Darth Vulcanus

Better than other-other space Kaiden
[member="Kiyala Demont"]


The bitter cold began to overtake the bridge, seemingly freezing the multiple engineers instantly. Some feel to their knees and rubbed their bodies in a futile attempt to keep warm, while others simply looked on in shock before falling of heart attacks induced by the rapid change of environment. Even Vulcanus's 'son' began to fall prey to the witches spell, such weakness. The Dark Lord scoffed at the man beside him as he tried to make a flame to stay warm, managing only to create a spark of flame. "Weakness, I have seen children show more promise than you." the Graug spat as the cold began to frost over his armor and bite at his tough hide.

Oh how he hated the cold, he hated every planet that he had ever gone to where cold was the way the climate was described. In response to the spell, the Dark Lord used part of his energy to encase himself in a shell of air that he rapidly heated up with the force. Like magic, the frost of his armor seemed to disappear instantly and his body rid of the cold. "You must feel the deepest anger inside you!" Vulcanus told his apprentice, looking to the witch as he did "I can already taste her blood on my tongue and it gives me focus!" the lizard ranted like a madman as his single organic eye turned a deep black and he grinned like a lunatic.

"You will suffer!" he proclaimed loudly, using the force to manifest a jet of flames at the souls of his feet. These darkside manifested flames propelled him forward like a rocket towards his opponent. Close range was where he excelled and he was about to show her why. For as he propelled forward, he quickly cocked back his arm and built up an outstanding power in his muscles with the force as he heated his knuckle plate to a searing red (thankfully his armor had been crafted through Sith alchemy to be highly resistant to heat).

The Dark Lord would throw his fist towards the witch's face, hopefully landing a punch with an outrageous amount of force.
 

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I have seen children show more progress than you.

Well, that certainly wasn't helping his mood. The flames around Graxin's hands were keeping the chill from stopping his heart, and that should have been enough. Of course, Vulcanus wanted more of him. His father always wanted more. Graxin was no stranger to this situation; failure meant punishment, and he had outgrown such things. The apprentice shifted his feet as he focused on maintaining the fire. It needed to be hotter and larger or he simply wouldn't survive. Then there was the Vong situation and the battle readying to unfold.

Death was likely upon him, and he would defy it like so many times before. Following in his father's footsteps, Graxin forced the flames to grow. Slowly, they grew to a hotter temperature and sharpened in color. the fire curled off from his fingers and arced around him, stronger, and slightly less controlled. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the woman; the bright flames flashing in his amber eyes. He would wait for Vulcanus to back off before sending his own fire at the woman. They would do away with her, and then the Vong in a similar fashion.

[member="Darth Vulcanus"]

[member="Kiyala Demont"]
 
"But anger without thought gets you no where"

Kiyala knew about anger; hell she was angry now but she knew better than to allow her emotions to rule her when fighting someone who was potentially stronger than her. Luckily, for her when the first man dropped dead Kiyala began drawing in their energies from their death something akin to adrenaline pulsing through her body as she literally had to force herself to stay still. It seemed as Krag had more attention to ridiculing and teaching his soon than the battle. As he once more attempted a devastating attack towards the rather small in comparison woman. Kiyala primed to Eater grenades before chanting the spell 'Surge of the Brier' upon the roof above her. She waited until Krag committed himself to his attack before leaping clear and high into the air spinning her body upside down, the vines she grew from the spell attached to her leg; holding her firmly in place on the roof.

Sure, Kiyala could have simply used Inertia to hold herself in place but that would have used a lot more energy than needed. When fighting a Dark Lord it was always important not to tire one's self out as she knew he had to have a couple tricks up his sleeve. Still reeling from all the energies the rather recent deaths gaze her she simply focused that on further dropping the temperature in the room. She did not intend on killing Krag's son but family loyalty was most of the time bothersome and she did not need to have to worry about him at the end of this fight. She gazed below at Krag and used the last of the energies she got from his crew members death to stretch out her perceptions feeling over Krag with the force. To her delight she realized that he was utilized a prosthetic leg to which she cast Force Combustion over the internal part of his leg. Most wanted to attack the external but all she needed to do was damage his leg as even with the force she doubted the hulking brute could match her sheer speed whenever she decided to use it.

Standing upside down on the roof, she began to wonder what would Krag throw at her next or if he could even reach her up on the roof.

Darth Vulcanus
[member="Graxin Rade"]
 

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