Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Last Stand

The Hound

Guest
T
With a grunt, he fixed himself in his seat to answer her question. "The Tychos seem to have some sort of Jamming signal booster located on their hulls. I already sent a portion of my squadron to deal with them." The rest of his message became distorted as he flew closer to the Tycho, indicating that it wasn't just targeting mechanisms that were affected but mid to long-rang communication as well. With a curse he flipped off his vidcom a flew deeper into the sphere of disruption. One of his squadron was taking fire and of course with no targeting he or she was a sitting duck. Turin was useless as well. Or...maybe not. The world around him was exploding and roaring, making it hard to concentrate and open up to the Force, and when he did, it hurt with so much death around him. It was suffocating.

Reaching out, he could feel the fear in his comrade and the absolute calm of the one shooting him down. Focusing on him, he pulled the trigger, unleashing a volley from his laser cannons, adding another death, and another life to the Force. He had heard tails of the Miraluka and thier "Force Sight". Was this how they saw everything? In different shades and auras?

"DWAOOO!" Pes' shrill scream snapped him back into reality and sounds started to slowly come back to him. "Kriff!" And there was the Tych, all 1500 meters of its hull. Pulling up as hard as he could, he still scraped the surface of the giant Droid Missile ship. An explosion to his left and the clearing up of his targeting computer indicated that his second team had succeed At what cost? He knew not. Clearing the width of the ship quickly he turned around to watch as the squadron of bombers delivered their payload, shattering its shield and breaking through its hull, inflicting critical damage to its engine and its hangar. "Aaand the package has been delivered!" typed as an update. "Alright boys and girls, lets head back. Refuel, rearm and lets get back out here!" A round of affirmatives as they got back into formation and made their way back to their cruiser.
@[member="Sophia Walsh"]
 
She had gotten bits and pieces of his message but not as much as she would have liked. It seemed the communications were jammed again or cut off she couldn't be sure right now as it wasn't just him she couldn't reach. He said by the Tychos if she had heard correctly and if that was the case they needed to target those. Which she would do if she could get a hold of anybody but all lines were down as she saw.

"Captain, I'm working on getting the communications back online now. The connection seems to go in and out but not in a pattern I can follow. It's weird one moment it's in and the next poof no connection to speak of."

"That needs to be priority number one. Check our backup communication system and see if you can get that up and running. I know it's a long shot but we have to be able to keep in contact with our guys out there."


Sophia did nobody any good up here if she was unable to communicate with anybody. She couldn't even get anybody online who was on the ship either as she tried to check with mechanics to see if something was wrong with the ship. Something was terribly wrong. Glancing to the screen in front of her which was a little distorted but hadn't gone out totally yet she noticed a few squads were back fueling up.

"Can you run a scan Katja and tell me if there is something off?" She was sure the answer was no but she was hopeful.

"My system is jammed Captain I'm have trouble running the basics."

"I think something may have attached itself to the ship. It would explain why we are getting nothing and everything is crashing. It must be something with the droids and hopefully something easy. Throwing an old back up communicator to her commander. She turned hers on just by the press of the button. This was old technology but it would work for now. "I'm going to go check on to the rest of the ship. I'll be back soon. Try and keep everything from shutting down while I'm gone. If you need me call me."

Leaving the bridge she headed towards where she could find the pilots. She needed someone to go out there and run a perimeter around the ship to see if anything abnormal was happening and than she needed to check mechanics give them one of the walkie-talkies. Hopefully nothing else was wrong with this thing.


@[member="Turin Val Kur"]
 
"You pr̨ol̛on̨g͢ t̕h́e ͠i̢n͢ev͠itáb̀l͏e," answered Darth Apparatus.

The organics resisting Omni, such as @[member="Darron Wraith"], might not have been aware of the how exactly Omni took hold of his thralls' minds. As was the case for Darth Apparatus, @[member="Jaxton Ravos"], and the rest, their thought processes were altered to the point that they saw Omni's goal of "evolving" the galaxy to be a necessity. This was absolute and any attempts to convince Darth Apparatus otherwise would be futile. Destroying Omni or disabling the nanites were the only methods of reversing the process.

The dark side of the Force took hold of Darth Apparatus. From his muscles to his bones to cybernetics, it infected every part of his being. Void of the light side of the Force and bearing no emotions to strengthen it, Darth Apparatus stood as a living testimony of the power Sith could have achieved. Fallen to a depth too far to return from, the only response a Jedi should have for the Darth would have been an attempt to cut him down - as Omni's thrall or otherwise.

Throwing his left arm out in a flash, Darth Apparatus called for a second lightsaber to his left hand. He grasped it firmly yet did not activate it. Then, the Darth bent his knees. His stance lowered to a crouch - his legs tightening as if a spring. The sound of drawn out exhaling of breath pierced the wind that should have danced around the World Devastator.

Releasing the power behind his legs, Darth Apparatus leaped forward at Darron Wraith. His body moved fast and low along the top of the World Devastator. It flew across as if hovering just a foot from the durasteel hull. The lightsaber in his right hand crossed over his body.

Once within striking distance of the Grandmaster, Darth Apparatus's body quickly rose. His forward momentum was redirected upwards in an instant. Jagged-toed boots dug into the hull, scraping the metal. Guttural growling rumbled from behind the Darth's mask. A crimson blade flew up-and-across at Darron. The power behind it would have been immense for a one-handed strike. The blade would have from from Darron's right-hip to left-shoulder if unimpeded.
 

The Hound

Guest
T
Climbing down the ladder he felt a little light headed. Probably due to that stunt he had pulled earlier. It didn't matter, for now he would relax and get a small breath of fresh air. Unzipping his flight suit to allow some air flow and removing the flight helmet he wore he felt as if he had been dropped in a nice cool breeze. It felt amazing! Now he would just wait to be refueled, maybe hop in a different fighter, the Starfire was too small for him. All of this was running through his head, until he saw his Captain. She looked worried and rushed, in a hurry. "What's wrong?" he shouted from the lower deck of the hangar. The question was general, and seemed to apply to many different people at once, however, everyone knew that the only person whom Turin talked to with such informality was Captain @[member="Sophia Walsh"].
 
Time and placed events were roiling forward at a speed Seroth could barely find a handhold over. In the span of hushed breaths, the boy and the elder Master, Ben Watts, gathered their sharp wits while extricating themselves from the jumbled, slagged heaps of shorn droid-things. He blinked against the throbbing half-light shades lancing through the cut breach squares sewn jaggedly about the ruined ceiling. The Devastator's arsenal of unlimited man-power was perhaps its greatest asset in defense, but the Knight held out to hope that its production capabilities, internalized tracts of automated servo-arms speed welding chassis' and materiel, would pale at the speed of its inevitable dismantling.

...Then a whiplash sensation of confusion, of pain. The tensed fabric of Force energy plying their immediacy seethed and writhed, then chilled to something akin to spiritual 'absolute zero'. Seroth pressed a gloved hand against the lift bulkhead, steadying his assaulted sensibilities. Far overhead, amidst the pluming gusts of acrid smoke and skylines traced with feverish embers, vague 'badness' was occurring. ...By Ben's akin look of wary apprehension, the Master too had made a more definitive estimate of Master Darron's predicament.

"This is where we part ways," He said. The boy glanced to his warmed hand upon his shoulder, smiling weakly. "Move fast, eyes open, and may the Force be with you, Seroth."

The man was then gone. The youth was half-aware of Ben's hunched shoulders, cloak and hood thrown across his brow, busied with his own private industries. Metal hissed, protesting the heat, then released a grating clang as a disconnected, partially melted panel fell away. Master Watts was then a rebounding shadow, glancing off the warm lift-shaft plating and skidding past sight. Seroth gently saluted at his descending backside, then turned to review his own predicament...

-

...The World Devastator, shining example of elder, Imperial designs from ages past... was an irrevocably antediluvian nightmare. Behind Jax atop the dorsal plain, south by eight meters, a maintenance hatchway was kicked out by a flailing boot. Seroth, trailing oiled cables and fiber-bundles across his now-ratty tunic, rose and gusted brackish fluid from his mouth and nostrils. Granted, in scaling through a rough maze of maintenance tubing, the boy had made record time in ascending to the 'top'. Ruefully however, he would smell like sealant grease mixed with electrical insulation.

As he rose to stand, he felt a prone, fleshy sensation under his palm. Seroth peeled his stare from the horror of Apparatus' mechanical sheathe; his knuckles were interlocked with Jaxton Ravos' severed hand. Taking a moment of formiddable calm to stay his inclination to scream, he rose to a knee, watching the wounded Zeltron saunter closer. The high winds wreathed with ash-grit and concrete dust, lashing their torn clothing, the pair fighting to stay steadied against the Devastator's intermittent rumblings and shakes. Jaxton looked and felt more than a touch haggard; his frame wafted with motes of raw pain that striated across Seroth's empathetic connection. Though, before he had a chance to ask on what in the Nine Hells was happening, his friend threw his mind for a confused circuit.

"Darron is a Sith." Came Jax's incredulous accusal. "He's cut my hand. We need to stop him."

Then his heavy stare became damning. "I need your help, Seroth."

From the mechanical, droning inflections of the Zeltron's vocalization, to his gaunt glare and trembling Force signature, told the boy that something was avidly, horridly wrong. He held his friends gaze, came to his feet as his sword-hilts appeared in hand.

"...Jax, I've never known you to lie and I know you'd strangle me if I said anything akin to that... That accusation," He said steadily over the roar of the Devastator's engine-pylons. "I can't do that. I won't be party to whatever's crazed your faculties. Jax... Jax, steady now... Nine Hells, man, I'm your friend."
 
Looking down from the upper deck she was a little surprised to see him back already. The package must have been dropped though she wouldn't know seeing as she never got his last message. One of these days she would get him to respect her and her command but today was not one of those days she had bigger things to deal with. She didn't have a lot of time to explain but she still found herself running down to the lower deck.

"The systems are jammed upstairs and we can't make heads or tails of it. First it was just communications and now well everything seems to be shutting down. We are trying to keep everything afloat. I'm thinking something with the droids maybe something attached itself to the ship without us knowing. Anyways I came down here to get some people to take a look outside the ship for me for anything abnormal. I was than going to mechanics to make sure it's nothing with that." She was not going to let the droids take them out, not on her watch. They would figure out the problem and than fix it. She didn't ask him about his orders as she assumed they were complete seeing as he was back here.

@[member="Turin Val Kur"]
 

The Hound

Guest
T
With a shrug and a quick zip-up Turin was ready to fly again. Its not like he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart though, he was itching to get back out there and fly. Hell, he might even end up in a dog fight! "I'll go." he said as he made his way to a fighter. A GN Throne. Though production of this model had almost stopped completely there were quite a few left in the fleet. Honestly though he felt a little woozy, sick even. He thought for a moment that he should let someone else take care of it. 'No, I already volunteered, can't back down now.' the thought ran through his head. What if he didn't go and one of his men was shot down when he could have gone out there instead? It would be wrong of him.

Without waiting for a response, helmet in hand, Turin climbed up the flight ladder and hopped into the GN Throne and began powering up systems. Slipping on his helmet he eased the fighter forward and into the blackness of space. The battle outside was raging harder than ever and honestly, it didn't look good for the Allied forces. It seemed like the ships just kept coming from the Tychos and he knew that they had only recently started using Seraph droids in the battle along with droid fighters. Pulling up and around the hull of the cruiser he scanned the hull of the ship. It didn't seem like it was anything on the outside. Not that he could tell. Something was very, very strange.

@[member="Sophia Walsh"]
 
She wasn't going to ask him to go as Sophia knew he just got back as he had just gotten back, needed to refuel and maybe even clear his head a little. She was grateful that he was going to go and that she didn't needed to actually go ask something. "Thank you. Be safe out there for me. I want you back in one piece." The way she said it almost sounded as if she cared for him which happened to be true. She did care about him just like she cared about the rest of her crew and if something happened to him it was her fault. Sophia couldn't lose him whom would give her lip and defy her orders?

He knew where to find her when he got back so there was no need to waste time on that. Turning she headed back up the stairs and to where she could find the mechanics of the ship. She knew she looked like a mad woman dashing around like this but it was important that she get there as soon as possible. The last thing she wanted to do was to have no choice but to tell the Admiral. She could and would do this herself.

"Captain? What are you doing?" A young man turned to face her with a questionable look on his face.

"I would have called but that's not the point. How are things down here?"

"Everything is just fine engines running fine. All systems giving me the green light nothing out of the ordinary. We are in no danger of anything. Is everything ok?"

Sighing with relief she shook her head as to answer yes. This must just mean it was something on the bridge perhaps a computer malfunction. Hopefully something that would be easy to take care of. "Yes, though use this if you need me." She didn't want to get everyone on the ship worried over something she had under control.

"Captain Walsh, we need you on the bridge..now"

Cursing under her breath she headed out without another word.

@[member="Turin Val Kur"]
 
Blue eyes fell on the hand laying near him, where it was supposed to meet his wrist was smoking. It's fingers were still curled in a fist, and through the Force he could feel the pain that he had inflicted. He studied the hand closely for just a spare moment, as he looked towards Jaxton one last time. I'm so sorry my friend, his mind was filled with remorse. Wounding an enemy in combat was sometimes a necessary evil, a consequence of defending yourself or peace. Yet here was a fellow Jedi, a member of Adamant Company, and a member of the Council. It was no easy task to come to grips with having maimed the Zeltron, especially when they were so close. The GrandMaster let his emotions bubble to the surface in an instant, and he let his despair be exposed. Taking in a deep breath he allowed himself to feel heartbreak at wounding his friend, and as he exhaled he let the feelings leave him. He knew that he had done as he had must, and so he let acceptance roll over him in waves. The Force filled him as he released the negative emotions, and he calmly noted Seroth's arrival. Guess I don't need to worry about Jaxton anymore at the moment, unless he tries to infect Seroth.

The Jedi turned his attention to Apparatus.

Guttural words echoed from behind the Sith's mask, and the Jedi Master simply allowed his field of responsibility to focus on the oncoming assailant. As he did so he pulled all the light into himself, and emptied himself of all emotion. His mind clear, he reached out to the darkness that had launched itself at him. Clearly using telekenisis to enhance his flight, Darron deactivated one of his sky-blue blades and clipped it to his belt. Taking the remaining blade in a two handed grip, he planted his feet for the incoming strike while trying to read his opponent. Reaching out though, all he felt was a void. All the light that remained around the Sith Master was being sucked into him, as if he were a black hole in the Force. The tell tell signs of rage and aggression were there, but he had no time to examine what he was feeling in the Force. The Sith was almost upon him.

CRASH!!

The lightsabers hissed and screamed as the bars of energy met each other. The power behind the blow was staggering for a one-handed strike, and the GrandMaster could only bring his blade down on the incoming strike. Knowing it would have been foolish to fight against such momentum, he simply let his boots slide back against the World Devastator beneath his feet. Small particles of dust were scraped off the floor from his slide, almost forming a barrier between the two. Darron stood there momentarily sizing up the Sith Lord before him. Should I even try and reach out to him, is there anything I can say to help? The thought was a foolish and naive one, if the Empress couldn't get to him. What chance did the GrandMaster of the Jedi Order stand against him, when a fellow Jedi had just attacked Darron. It seemed Omni's influence was stronger than past loyalties, or even the Force. Which made the nanites presently in the Sith's body his number one target.

Darron went to use electric judgement again, but instead tightened his grip on his lightsaber further.

A memory from Belsavis had come back to him, just in time. No, he wouldn't be creating another EMP such as the Empress had done on accident with Apparatus. That plan was also folly, so instead the Jedi made a plan of action and went with it. His mind empty, the Jedi simply lunged towards the Sith Lord. Every muscle in his body exploded as he moved within striking distance. There would be no trickery in this assault, both were large, physically powerful men. Their strength in the Force was unmatched, so Darron simply went for a mundane lightsaber assault. The distance now closed as he was within striking distance of the crimson blade before him, the Jedi Master brought his bladed down in a powerful strike aimed at the Sith's right shoulder. As he brought the blade down he stepped forward and before his blade could even make contact he brought it up over his head, and redirected his blade in a slash aimed at Apparatus' left elbow.

@[member="Darth Apparatus"]
 
Ben tediously crawled down the elevator shaft, being very careful not to fall to his death, and also making sure he did not cut his hands up too badly. Glancing up, he was well below the elevator, and a momentary thought of what he would do if the elevator came crashing down onto his head jumped into his mind. He quickly pushed the thought from his head, it was not needed at this moment, he had to keep his focus on getting to the power core. When he had been younger he would have thought a mission like this would have been awesome. Fighting going on all around him, the success of the mission resting on his shoulders, the adrenaline rush. Now all he could think about was what would happen if he failed?

A loud noise caught his attention, and he looked up, the Elevator was moving. Great, they had gotten it to work, looking down he spotted the door he was going to be going in. Letting out a deep breath, his outstretched his hands, letting himself fall at a much more rapid pace. When he got to the area he needed to stop, he grasped the chord, the feeling of his skin ripping as he slid to a stop made him clench his teeth. Ignoring the pain, he made sure he stopped, and he let out a small yell of pain as he glanced at one of his now bloody hands. Having no time to waste, Ben reached out to the door with the force, and with a powerful focus and determination he ripped it open.

He leaped inside and he rolled onto his feet, lightsaber shooting out, the hum filling the air as he scanned the area for any threats. For a moment he stood in complete silence, waiting for something to come at him, but nothing did. He heard the elevator slowly coming down and he was sure it was going to stop at his level. With no time to waste, he decided to run, avoiding a fight at all costs. If, for any reason, he became infected it would ruin the entire mission. He was in a huge mechanical room, most of the stuff around him did not make any sense, but he would know if he spotted the power core. He heard a few noises here and there, but he assumed it was just droids doing their work, he avoided them.

Sliding around a corner, his feet were ripped out from under him, he spotted the Seraphim too late to react. He crashed hard to the floor, his lightsaber flying from his hands, and he came skidding to a stop against a wall. No time to worry about his pain, he looked up just in time to see a blade coming right for his chest, he rolled out of the way and heard the loud clang as the blade hit nothing but the wall. As he stood up, he summoned his lightsaber with the force, igniting it just in time to deflect a blow the Seraphim launched at him. Normally, he was defensive, but he had no time to wast in this situation as he had to destroy the core as fast as possible. Going on the offensive, Ben slashed the droid in two within moments of their battle starting, standing over the body of the droid as he felt more and more droids heading his way. He was certainly not at the advantage here.
 

Jaxton Ravos

Mindwalker of the Outer Rim
Jaxton watched as Seroth held his sabers to his hand, appearing wary of something. Could Darron have taken him to the Darkside? What did he have to fear? Jaxton was no threat to a good man.
"...Jax, I've never known you to lie and I know you'd strangle me if I said anything akin to that... That accusation," Seroth began to speak to Jaxton. He's lying. Jaxton heard a voice in his head. The guidance of Omni giving him wisdom, but he hoped Omni was wrong. He knew he couldn't beat Darron alone, especially with his recent loss. He needed Seroth's aid to stop Darron. Please Omni, please be wrong this once.

"I can't do that. I won't be party to whatever's crazed your faculties." Seroth continued and Jaxton grunted in revulsion. Omni was right. Seroth was a lost cause. He looked around and saw a broken Seraph Droid coming towards them. Like the Force Omni would always be there for Jaxton, guiding his path. Jaxton ignited his lightsaber and marched towards Seroth in a Makashi stance. Kill him. He heard Omni's guidance in his mind tell what he needed to do. If he could not stop the Grandmaster, he would stop his slaves to the Darkside.

"Jax... Jax, steady now... Nine Hells, man, I'm your friend.'" @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] said as Jaxton lunged forward with unnatural speed and the battered Seraph attacked from behind.
 
Just after @[member="Darron Wraith"] slid back after blocking Darth Apparatus's strike, the Sith Lord took a stance with his feet spread shoulder width apart. His knees bent slightly with his torso leaning forward just a few inches. His arms were held out - opening his chest. The position he held made him seem larger than normal.

The raging darkness permeating from Darth Apparatus continued to grow. The antithesis of Jedi, if Darron could be an example. How Omni could have leashed him was anyone's guess.

When Darron leaped back at the Darth, the Sith Lord moved the lightsaber in his right hand up to meet his blade. Yet, their weapons did not touch and now Darron's blue blade rushed for the Darth's left elbow. Quickly, Darth Apparatus activated the lightsaber in his left hand - which he still held onto. The also crimson sword extended into the air. The Darth twisted his wrist, and with the movement of his fingers, he managed to rotate the hilt of his saber into a backwards grip. The weapon's laser ran along along his left arm.

Then, Darth Apparatus locked the elbow in his left arm. As Darron's blade crashed into Darth Apparatus's own, the Darth's body jerked to the right. Yet, he managed to stay his ground.

This all had happened in a split second.

Instantly after blocking Darron's strike, Darth Apparatus lunged forward. Yet, both his lightsabers were out of position. So, the Sith Lord opted to throw his upper body forward. His head, covered by a metal helm, rushed toward Darron's face. A headbutt, and one that would have broken bones if full contact was made.
 

The Hound

Guest
T
He had made several rounds around the ship by now, and honestly, he couldn't find anything that would be jamming the signal. With a light shrug he headed back to the hangar. However, little did he know that attached to the bottom of his craft was the very thing that had been jamming the ship's signals. Landing his craft, the astromech that had been silent the entire flight suddenly began shooting off alarms and damage assessments at an alarming rate. "What in the seven Hells...?" he asked as he peered at the screen. "Oh shi-" he didn't have time to finish, he grabbed the SR-26 from its ship hostler and ejected from his craft. If he didn't jump off of his seat he would be slattered on the ceiling soon. Luckily he had forgotten to hook in his harness and he fell out of his seat almost immidatley. The bad news being, he broke his leg. With a guttural sound of pain and the sudden ejection many people around the hangar area were startled. But not as startled as when the laser from a seraph droid erupted from where the pilot, Turin, would have been if he hadn't ejected. "What are you idiots doing?! Fire!" he shouted at the hundreds of dumbfounded faces. Blaster fire from the multiple SR-26s erupted, but to no avail. It appeared the thing was on a specific mission as it flew up and headed straight for the bridge, killing anyone fool enough to get in its way. "Oh no..."
@[member="Sophia Walsh"]
 
Atop World Devastator/@[member="Jaxton Ravos"]

To his fore was a high, falling cut aimed to sever him cleanly from brow to groin. Upon his back, a skewering stab that aimed to punch through his shoulder blade and stick downward into his heart. Seroth hadn't a moment to blink, regarding his good friend as the Zeltron came on to kill him as the shambling droid-horror aimed to backstab from behind. The dorsal plating vibrated with discordant jangles, heightened and worsened by the scream of engine-pylons and droid-swarms keening overhead. Suddenly, recollection painted the scene as it was months ago, screaming through the high spires of the Fobosi District; Darron, Rosa, and Jaxton catching passage on his wheeling gun-cutter and forced to leave the Zeltron behind. The youth always felt that Jax was owed more than a modicum of apology for that hellish debacle. He'd meant to pay back through some suitably selected gift.

...He blankly wondered if either of them would be left alive to see the day's end.

His blades lit. Instead of working to either block and parry or deflect and counter Jax's falling 'axe-cut', Seroth bounced on his foot-balls, stepping away. The effect was jarringly sudden. The boy's frame ceased to fill the acrid air and was replaced without warning by the lurching Seraph. The Zeltron's plasma-sword gored through its skull-casing, sternum-plating, down through the abdominal armor and out through its oiled hip-chassis. It hissed a rasping cant of droid binary, then fell dead and inactive at the infected Knight's feet. And then the duel was joined, his 'former' ally blitzing in at his wounded left hand flank, harrying his useless arm.

His left-hand sword whacked across Jax's guarding blade, the right-hand working teasing feints that hinted at subtle cuts across his forearm and wrist. None were meant to reach the mark, or even attempt so. The boy was at a loss on resolving Jaxton Ravos' nanomachine induced belligerence. Every scenario ended with unpleasantness. He raised one blade, angling it deftly right, horizontally, against two heavy cuts, poking in his second sword tip simultaneously to gouge a hole through the Zeltron's left bicep.
 

Reyven Samoth

Grand Lord of the Tribe
@[member="Thraishe Krine"]

"Good, good, focus your hate. Turn it into a weapon." He felt a burning in his left thigh as a laser pierced it, though he harnessed his pain and anger and 'bandaged' his wound with the Force, keeping himself going as he swatted the droids out of the air with the mass of metal. He made it through a doorway into what seemed to be an engine room and waited for his would-be apprentice to get through before wedging the massive durasteel plate in the frame to keep them from getting in right away.

"Look around, see if you can't find something to damage this beast with. I must rest for a moment." He sat, his sabers shutting down, as he looked around for any kind of ambush waiting nearby, resting his leg and regaining his strength. It was exhausting fighting all the way here.
 
@[member="Reyven Samoth"]

Thraishe looked up to see a ventilation shaft.

"We could go through here," Thraishe said, "this has to lead to the control room."

Thraishe fought off a few more droids, but took a piece of shrapnel in his side.

"GAH!!!," He winced in pain and was brought to one knee.
 
No sooner had Sophia reached the bridge did she begin to hear blaster shots. What the blazes was going on? Nobody should be shooting in here unless something got in. This day was just getting better and better. Arming herself with her SR-26 along with the rest of the bridge crew she waited as the blasting got closer and closer. She was not going to let the seraph droid on the bridge. That would be a deadly mistake for all involved. She wasn't the best of shooters but Sophia hoped with all of them at the door someone could knock it down.

Blasting away at it as it became closer a lot of shots it it but did nothing really. They couldn't hit it the thing it was too fast for them. Most were not expert marksmen but instead better at technical aspects on the ship.

As people moved to try and get a better angle the droid was able to maneuver it's way onto the bridge but not without slicing and dicing some poor soldiers in its way. Cursing under her breath Sophia followed it as it stopped at one of the main computer terminals. Now that it was stopped and doing heaven knows what she was able to hit it and cause some damage. Sensing this the droid turned around and fired at her and others. The bolt grazed her shoulder but didn't make an impact and she didn't even flinch as she kept shooting. The next bolt however hit her directly in the shoulder. She could feel it rip through her skin unbelievable pain.

Screaming in pain the blaster was forgotten for a moment as her other had went to her shoulder which hurt oh and was bleeding a lot. As she had been busy screaming the droid was hit one too many times and was dead. Sophia didn't know what happened but didn't care.

What a mess...

"I'm fine, it's just a flesh wound." She stated waving off those trying to help her. There was no time to medical attention she had a mess on her hands here. "We need to start cleaning up in here and getting the wounded to medical." As the few with her scattered she ripped off a piece of her pant leg to wrap around her to stop the bleeding. Bitting her lip she sighed as she surveyed the damage hoping it was over.

@[member="Turin Val Kur"]
 

The Hound

Guest
T
Turin had limped his way to the bridge, his blaster still ready and set to 'kill'. Adrenalin was pumping through his veins as he followed the trail of destruction Luckily there were mostly flesh wounds, however those still alive required an EMP treatment, which at the moment he didn't know if they had. Worst case scenario they would be locked up in the brig until the battle was over or they got an EMP type weapon that was safe. With another curse he limped faster. He needed to make sure people were safe. Something in him was driving him to move forward, he didn't know what it was. But it was driving him.

Pushing himself to his limit, he instinctively attempted to use the Force to keep him from buckling on his broken ankle and shin. The pain however was dulled by his drive to move forward. Finally making it to the bridge his heart sank. It was a mess, scorch marks were everywhere and blaster fire was still going. He heard screams and cries of shock and pain from all over but one stood out to him. His Captain was hit. Disregarding his injuries for one final push he moved in and joined the fray, firing at the droid with his own blaster.

"I'm fine, it's just a flesh wound. We need to start cleaning up in here and getting the wounded to medical."

"Captain Walsh, Sophia, are you sure you are okay? That looks worse than just a flesh wound." he said as he observed her handiwork with her makeshift tourniquet. He wasn't one to talk, his leg felt destroyed, but for some reason he felt compelled to help her before himself, or anyone really. Besides, if she died who would he have to argue with?
@[member="Sophia Walsh"]
 

Reyven Samoth

Grand Lord of the Tribe
@[member="Thraishe Krine"]

He managed to get his leg into better shape and refresh some of his reserves of energy, standing and walking to the wounded man. "No, these are controlled by droids. I doubt there's any way to sever connection. We'd be wasting our time there. We head to the engines, sabotage those, and blow this thing up from within." He reached out to the mans side, pulling the largest pieces of metal from his flesh with the Force and letting them fall to the floor before using the energies of the Dark Side to begin stitching his flesh back together in a quick patch job. "You're fine to move again, but we'd best hurry. I doubt they're going to want this thing exploding."
He ignited his sabers again and began slashing his way towards the sound of engines deeper in the behemoth. It wouldn't be long now.
 
Thraishe stood, and felt no more pain. He leapt forward, following close behind @[member="Reyven Samoth"]

"Do you sense anything? Like where we are?" Thraishe inquired.
 

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