Invasion Total Eclipse of the Heart || Objective 4: We'll Be Holding On Forever

[Kingsley]

Koda Fett V1-L8 Drystan Creed Razmir Tezhyn Damien Dooku Morrow Sal Katarn Mercy Xeykard
Kyric Balun Dashiell Rik Perris Sera Rosh Sara Celwik Thayze Montserrat Talin Treicolt

"You about ready for this sh*tshow to begin?"​

"Rrrrawk! Kid, I was born ready."

A large slimy bird talon struck Dooku on the back in an overenthusiastic display of comradery.

Kingsley tilted his shades down low enough to see in the dark warehouse. Impractical fashion choice for an ambush they might be but they sure as gundark droppings made him look badass when holding a scattergun. Paired with a bantha leather jacket it really tied the recently escaped convict's ensemble together. His trusty jawa blaster was stuffed behind the seam of orange prison trousers.

"My platonic life partner here and I," he punched Koda Fett hard in the shoulder, "are both professional Jedi killers. We're wanted in seven systems!"

Indeed the smuggler had proven difficult for Koda to shake ever since he literally stumbled into the taciturn bounty hunter on Cloud City and announced that he was going to 'teach Koda how to live' before promptly vomiting all over beskar boots. Miracle of the Force he hadn't been tossed out of an airlock yet.

Maybe because he was crazy enough to say yes to a contract like this without asking any questions.

If there was one thing Kingsley loved aside from booze and spice and credits and women, it was high explosives. He'd taken the liberty of rigging the warehouse with some surprises of his own. Very poorly engineered, unreliable surprises.

"I like your groovy words magic lizard," he took a long drag of something and then tried to pass it to Xeykard, "Rrrrawwwk! Want to smoke some death sticks? They always settle my nerves before a big job."

 

[Balun Dashiell]

TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART: OBJECTIVE 4
INVENTORY: Spacer Apparel, Echo Stone & Lightsaber
LOCATION: High Republic Troop Dropship, making landfall
ALLIES: Brandyn Sal-Soren Cerys Dyn Kyric Thayze Montserrat Talin Treicolt Scavera
OPPOSITION: Xeykard V1-L8 Drystan Creed Mercy Damien Dooku Morrow Xeykard Koda Fett Kingsley Sal Katarn

That stupid calm...

Where his mind should have been focused entirely on the objective at hand, the mission for which they anticipated conflict with the Black Sun Syndicate, a high-profile criminal gang finding no small amount of success in the sector of late, Balun's attention couldn't help but be split. He wondered if Brandyn Sal-Soren had noticed it, but Cerys Dyn felt more closed off than usual; She did an excellent job of not showing it, bearing a great external mask similar to how Balun himself often kept his anxieties and doubts deeply buried, yet overtime they had been getting to know each other better, so too had Balun started to noticed the most minor telltale signs of Cerys discomfort—those quick, evasive glances. The way she recoiled with every touch. The submission in her voice was so uncommon as she responded to Master Sal-Soren quietly, acknowledging his instruction. It all left Balun feeling concerned for her, when he knew he ought to be clear-headed and focused on the fight to come.

The sudden influx of power channelled between Master Sal-Soren and Cerys Dyn was difficult to ignore within such proximity to the two, sensing their exertion of control over the Force as they enveloped themselves and Balun in what he could only describe as a form of Altus Sopor. This field surrounded them and seemed to mask their signatures in the Force from those outside of the area of effect. The two practised the act with effortless precision, giving Balun the impression that they had done this numerous times in past missions and assignments.

"We're movin' in, now. Sal-Soren's team covers our six. Everyone else, form up."

Kyric spoke with the voice of someone who had experienced the field of war before, something that Balun could respect. It appeared that Brandyn's team would be covering the rear, keeping the entrance clear for the team's extraction if all things went smoothly. What were a bunch of thugs with blasters compared to a squad of trained Jedi, right?

'Should've brought my Blaster with me...' He thought idly with his back to the cold iron wall of the warehouse. He wasn't one to like to wait, nor to be kept at the back when he could be helpful with his blade in a fight. Getting into a good scrap was about the best way he knew how to make a difference, other than spending and investing credits, but that didn't give him quite the same rush as the feeling of completing an assignment knowing you had risked everything and achieved some good in a Galaxy so damned awful.

He had never encountered the Black Sun Syndicate before, but Balun had run with some bad types when he had first struck out on his own after leaving the New Jedi Order years ago on Coruscant. He needed credits to get off-world, and so the lower levels had been the best place he had figured he could find work with fewer questions as to why he wasn't with the Order. It was then that he had learned that things weren't nearly as black and white as the Jedi had always led him to believe, and his moral compass wasn't quite the same ever since.

With Brandyn Sal-Soren on the left side of the door and Cerys Dyn alongside him, Balun took up the right side of the door instead. It was easier this way. He'd have been distracted standing behind Cerys, and there was no room right now for any of that. One wrong move in a fight was all it took to put someone down, whether that might be himself or Cerys, he didn't want to be the cause of that; Besides, this way he could keep his ear to the wall and had a front row seat should things go pear-shaped, ready to jump to the assistance of his allies.

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Thayne Tameron]

T O T A L - E C L I P S E
O F - T H E - H E A R T

​

Perched on a catwalk, distanced from the others, Thayne kept careful watch of the warehouse floor below. He wasn’t begrudged in the slightest by the waiting. After all, it was a game he played often; patience was paramount to the work of an assassin, especially one who specialized in eliminating Jedi.

He glanced down at his own lightsaber that hung from his belt and sighed. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but Thayne gave up on redemption a long time ago. The Force was no longer religion to him. It was a tool. Just another weapon to be used on his enemies - enemies who happened to be Jedi more often than not. The thought of them inspired Thayne to check his blaster.

Soon, the Order would arrive. And when they did, he would follow his orders exactly: kill as many of them as possible, and maim the rest. None would leave without being taught a lesson.

Tags
Black Sun: Damien Dooku | Mercy | Morrow
High Republic: Sera Rosh​

 

[Sara Celwik]

Objective 4: Red Dust Under Shadows
Tags: Open
Location: Sarko 4, Suspicious Warehouse

Sara was glad that at least she had her sniper rifle, but she wished she had more than one lethal grenade. Since this was a law enforcement action, she couldn't get permission to carry a blaster more powerful than a carbine and one fragmentation grenade, even a thermal detonator was deemed overkill.

Her whole job here was mainly to assist as an on the ground intelligence analyst. Though Sara was more interested in getting in and maybe picking off a couple of guards that might be there to resist them, rather than sifting through computer files and interrogating prisoners.

Spoiler: Equipment

• Weapons
  
  • RS-29 Blaster Pistol
  • TSR-44 Blaster Rifle
  • Honorblade
• Grenades
  
  • (x1) EMP Grenade
  • (x4) Flash Grenade
  • (x4) Smoke Grenade
  • (x2) G-20 Glop Grenade
  • (x1) Fragmentation Grenade
• Armour
  
  • Peacekeeper Armour
• Other Notable Equipment
  
  • (x4) Stuncuffs
  • (x4) Restraining bolts
    
    • Droid Caller

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

THE WRETCHED

OBJECTIVE 4
WAREHOUSE AMBUSH COMMENCING
SEE FINAL SECTION FOR DETAILS (click)

The Black Sun had sent many of their most elite here. They wanted a clear statement sent to the Republic: "Not even your best are safe from us." Razmir tapped a finger on the metal railing. He studied the layout of the warehouse one last time, playing through the sequence of events once the Jedi entered, when his considerations got interrupted.

"You know, I never was a fan of school." Mercy said conversationally as she waited alongside Razmir and Sal Katarn. "I left the Sith Academy and found Nar Shaddaa... absolutely gorgeous compared to the stuffy paper and sand of Korriban."

How this woman managed to make casual small talk when every one of her thoughts should be devoted to the imminent execution of their ambush never ceased to surprise Razmir. Though he supposed part of that simply was the confidence and swagger that came with the air of invincibility she cultivated. Razmir considered some choice words, but Xeykard spoke up before he could voice them.

"They are here," he warned, a moment before the crackle of their comms spoke up with a confirmation. A look to Mercy. "Violence is a teacher. You were never meant to be a student. Not today."

His informants confirmed the Republic team had begun closing in on the warehouse only moments after Xeykard had foreseen the their arrival. Razmir had to admit he could be a smidge envious of the way these experienced Force Warriors could anticipate events before they even happened. It made them exceedingly difficult to kill. Their enemies, the Jedi, unfortunately shared this tenacity.

Against so many of the Black Sun's elite, however? The Jedi would be hopelessly outmatched.

"When this is done..." Damien's eyes cut sharper than a monomolecular-edged blade towards Razmir Tezhyn, the one who'd put him in this situation in the first place. "Our score will be settled."

Razmir met Damien's words with a smile. Polite with an edge of derision that he kept to the privacy of his thoughts. Once Black Sun had their hooks in someone, they weren't in the habit of letting go again. If Damien truly thought this would earn him freedom from the Sun, then he was naive. Even if their deal would, technically, be fulfilled today, Razmir had every intention of finding new ways of putting Damien into his debt.

The young Dooku would never be a free man again.

Ah, but his plotting would have to wait. The Jedi

<"We've got eyes on the Jedi. Just over a dozen, at least. Maybe more.">

"On your mark." His tone betrayed it -- between the two of them, he only trusted himself to make that call;

Razmir could make out the forms of the Jedi moving through the warehouse. They walked unaware of the dangers lurking all around them. He pulled his polarizing shades from his pocket and put them on. They were stylish. Designer, but with a practical purpose. He was particularly susceptible to bright lights, and this dark, enclosed space was about to become a light show.

Every cache was mapped. Every tripwire set. Remote charges beneath the western stack. A magnetic detonator in the ceiling brace. An anti-vehicle mine hidden beneath a repulsor pallet marked "Hydraulics." Dioxis canisters stashed inside pressure pipes, rigged to detonate on signal.

If there was one thing Kingsley loved aside from booze and spice and credits and women, it was high explosives. He'd taken the liberty of rigging the warehouse with some surprises of his own. Very poorly engineered, unreliable surprises.

Waiting for the Jedi were tripwires, detonators, mines, dioxis canisters, and many other traps all set up throughout the warehouse among innocently labelled crates and shelves.

And above in the rafters or hidden in plain sight on the warehouse floors, dozens of enforcers and legionnaires waited with dioxis grenades and blaster rifles, all trained on the unsuspecting Jedi.

Razmir equipped a rebreather filter and tapped a button on the side of his comm-link. The signal for the ambush to commence.

<Time to clear the board. Leave none alive.>​

Within a heartbeat, the ground floor of the warehouse became a killing field.

Ray shields⁽¹⁾ activated by the doors and windows, closing off exits with lethal energy.

Signal jammers cut off communications on High Republic frequencies.

Dioxis⁽²⁾ cannisters opened and dioxis grenades dropped, spilling the suffocating green gas onto the ground floor of the warehouse.

Flash grenades quickly followed, sowing confusion within the deadly gas clouds surrounding the Jedi.

Blaster fire rained down from the rafters above and the sides of the warehouse alike, forming a deadly crossfire with the Jedi at its centre.

The silence was gone and all hell broke loose.

(1) RAY SHIELDS,
A ray shield absorbed energy, as opposed to particle shields, which repelled solid objects. However, ray shields did not allow physical objects through them completely unscathed, imparting a deadly electric shock. As such they could be used in traps.
Wookie link

(2) DIOXIS GAS,
"Dioxis! Breathe it, and you're dead!" ― Obi-Wan Kenobi
Wookiee link

Black Sun: Thayne Tameron Sal Katarn Xeykard Damien Dooku V1-L8 Rostam Khavarzai Koda Fett Keys Kingsley Mercy Morrow Drystan Creed
High Republic: Cerys Dyn Brandyn Sal-Soren Sara Celwik Sera Rosh Balun Dashiell Mishel Rik Perris Kyric Thayze Montserrat Talin Treicolt Scavera

 

[Damien Dooku]

Objective IV
THEME

Engaging Scavera | Honorable mention Kyric

​

"I've got a weird feeling about all this," he confessed. It was a presence he was sensing, though he was entirely oblivious to that capability and especially how to interpret it. With a deft hand, he caught the cigarette between his fingers. He slid it behind his ear, obscured underneath black fabric. No chance he was going to smoke it, though he wouldn't bother to elaborate. "Don't know how to describe it,"​

Damien lit the cigarette in his hand and nodded off-handedly. "Yeah. I get what'cha' mean." He let out quietly, bringing himself to a kneel near Morrow as the two set themselves up in over watch of the area below. "We're dealin' with Jedi here, not just goons from some rival gang. You never know what a force user has up their sleeve 'till it's time to rock and roll." There was always a bad feeling in the air when a job involved force users-- friendly or otherwise. Just one served as enough of a wildcard to ruin an entire operation, and the numbers they were expecting to arrive were well within grounds for Black Sun to be at least a bit concerned that things would quickly go south, if Razmir was even a bit off his game with his plans.

He fumbled with the grenades on his hip, removing the safeties and priming them for when the time came to let them loose. Another redundant check of his pistol followed, along with pulling the knife out of his boot and keeping it reverse-gripped in his hand as the strike team proceeded closer to the ambush.

A deathly silence rolled across the warehouse with each second that followed, and each careful step that pushed the Jedi into the killzone that Black Sun had levied on their behalf.
​

"I just hope this chit is worth the cred."​

"Try to incapacitate...if you can." It was the most he could ask, given the circumstances. That eerie feeling in his gut still tugged at him, warning him that this whole situation was a bit too weird for his taste. Damien fitted the rebreather over his nose as his commbead buzzed for a final time before the ambush began in earnest.
​

<Time to clear the board. Leave none alive.>​

He exchanged a final glance with Morrow as the cacophony of blaster fie and explosives thundered from across the rafters and into the Jedi below. Ray shields cut off points of retreats, and the thunk of Dioxis grenades releasing their payload into the air threatened to choke the air out of their unexpected prey's lungs.

Damien glided into the air from where he was currently knelt, a sudden burst of movement sending him careening off the rafters into a freefall below. His free hand pulled the pistol off his hip as he spun downwards through the air, his eyes tracking a Jedi still left reeling from the ambush through the thick plumes of gas. A successive burst of blaster of fire trailed down the Jedi's torso to his gut, each shot rippling through them to the core until they were left spasming onto the floor unconscious.

He twisted at the hips before hitting the ground, focusing his weight forwards into a somersault that smoothly allowed him to land on one knee, but was forced to slide backwards to avoid a Jedi's attempt to cut him down while he was vulnerable. Immediately his arm shot forwards mid-slide, his blaster letting off a powerful charged shot that jetted straight towards where the Jedi was readying his guard to deflect.

The bolt careened mid-air before their blade could connect, curving downwards at an angle and impacting right into their thigh instead. Waves of electricity rippled through it, bringing him down his the ground after another stun blast followed. He yanked the energy pack out and quickly slotted in another, his eyes tracking potential targets through the smoke until he settled on the closest target doing the most damage to their side.

The force tugged at his thoughts as he raised his pistol up through the smoke. Their silhouette was still veiled enough that he couldn't quite see past their outline, but he could tell that they'd cut through their side if something wasn't done about them soon. He charged his pistol up once more, intending to deliver a disruptor shot right towards their dome from the side.

The room briefly slowed as that perpetual tug shifted its attention away from the silhouette and made his body shift on instinct to avoid the clump of pellets piercing through the air towards his chest. A handful pelted his leather jacket, ripping the fabric into tatters but not penetrating enough for a kill. "You nerf herdin' sonnuva!" His blaster whipped into line with where the shot came from, releasing a disruptor shot back towards their location out of instinct. His grip on his knife tightened as he dashed forwards through the smoke, yanking out the spent energy cartridge and quickly slamming it up against his belt to mount another.

​

Thayne Tameron Sal Katarn Xeykard V1-L8 Rostam Khavarzai Koda Fett Keys Kingsley Mercy Morrow Drystan Creed ​

 

[Sal Katarn]

Katarn grunted as the ambush began, but his thoughts dwelled on Mercy's earlier comment about Korriban. He didn't much agree with the She-Sith, not much at all. Korriban was sandy, 'course. But you haven't lived until you've seen a desert sunrise. Or sunset. The way they painted the skies orange and pink. Ain't nothing like it.

Besides.

Sal hated city planets.

Hoisting his anti-tank rifle, Sal braced it on top of several cargo crates that doubled as cover and concealment and sighted down at a cluster of targets.

With Brandyn Sal-Soren on the left side of the door and Cerys Dyn alongside him, Balun took up the right side of the door instead

As chaos erupted everywhere, that trio wouldn't have much of a chance to process it. On account of Sal squeezin' the trigger of his rifle gently, gently, 'til it spat out a particle beam so bright and huge that it lit up the warehouse floor for a moment as it ripped across the distance. Meant for putting big holes in tanks, Sal found it was also great for putting big holes in people too. Even if it didn't hit one of the trio directly, the impact of the anti-material particle beam would toss up an explosion liable to rip apart permacrete and toss up a kinetic shockwave that might damage and rupture organs and tissue, if nothing else.

Was not necessarily the most sporting weapon, but then, Sal had never been one for sporting.

Targeted: Balun Dashiell | Cerys Dyn | Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Kyric]

Solemn Blade
"True mastery begins where individual ego ends."
Tempest of Blades

Energy surged in the distant darkness as ray shields formed over each exit within the warehouse, not that those at the center of the ambush were privy to such information. Poisonous gas erupted from up above and below. Flash bangs burst within the night to a cacophony of rampant blaster fire. Explosions ripped durasteel apart as hidden mines and thermal detonators turned rusted shelves and useless debris into fast-flying projectiles. Any calls for help were met with static, courtesy of the Black Sun Syndicate's signal jammers.

Screams of pain intermingled with those of terror in the opening salvo. Blackened and broken bodies hit the floor, smoking where blaster fire riddled their bodies with hot-burning plasma. Those unlucky few to eat high-flying shrapnel lurched about for aid, only to stumble uselessly about, disoriented in the wake of the the still-popping flash bangs. Poison soon flooded their lungs as they called out for help, terror-stricken and desperate from the brutal shock-and-awe of the ambush, they could do little else than clutch at their throats as they coughed bloody phlegm into the duracrete.

Caught on the otherside of the propped-up shelves, Kyric threw himself down at the first explosion to rip through the air three-dozen paces to his left. He cupped his ears and closed his eyes for a moment. Rolling blindly to his right, the kiffar ducked beneath a thick shelf. Momentarily defended from the syndicate members directly ahead of him, alongside those perched overhead, Kyric fished a rebreather from his JEDI UTILITY BELT and slipped the device between his lips.

Danger sense and pre-cognition did little for the Jedi Knight as he unclipped Soltide from his belt. The combined might of the Taozin amulets and the absolute anarchy playing out around the strike force made sense-based abilities unreliable at best, and a liability at worse.

Prepared to the best of his ability, Kyric rolled out from cover and activated the saber gripped tight in his hands. An ethereal bell chimed through the warehouse, centered where the silver-blue blade burned like star light at the head of the ambush.

Blaster bolts descended on Kyric from all directions, but the kiffar didn't sit still long enough to receive them. He charged into the flurry. His saber flew from his hand in an arching sweep that cut through a low-hanging rafter. Syndicate killers descended a half-dozen meters before the grated metal caught on the corridor-like shelves. The momentum threw the trio from their perch, where they fell to the killing floor. Kyric was upon them in an instant. Trapped within a combination of smoke and poisonous dioxis, he was no more than a silhouette as Soltide returned to his open palm and cleaved through the neck of his closest foe. The second rolled to their left and leveled a blaster on Kyric, but the kiffar deflected the bolt back into the contractor's gun and closed the gap. His saber cut a molten line from the criminal's shoulder to his hip.

In a desperate bid to survive, the third shooter activated a thermal detonator at his side and raised his arm to throw the grenade at the Jedi Knight. Kyric thrust his hand forward, trapping both his assailant and his grenade in a stasis field. The swordsman turned at that and swept around cover to avoid the rush of fire and disembodied limbs as the detonator claimed the last of the trio.

More blaster fire rained down as a chain-blaster screeched in an endless inferno of red. Again Kyric pivoted around his cover, directly into the sights of an unseen assailant on the other side of the smoke. Inches from an unknowable death, the kiffar had Scavera to thank as her blaster caught the unseen killer and stole his attention from Kyric.

In the meantime, the Jedi Knight pushed for a more favorable position to no avail. Every which way he turned revealed an onslaught of blaster fire. Black Sun's killing lust overwhelmed Kyric's preternatural senses and he struggled to find an ally within the whirling melee. But he did not stop. He moved forward, instead, weathering the attack from all sides in an effort to find the edge of the smoke. The High Republic strike force needed clarity, guidance, and most of all, hope; and the Son of the Sword had every intention of giving it to them.

Kyric pushed out the far side of the concealing mist, his saber held horizontally across his abdomen in a two-handed grip, blade parallel to the floor. His single eye narrowed on the flashes of Razmir Tezhyn's smirking face. The Vigo stood tall. Proud. Forever etched into Kyric's eidetic memory.

​

High Republic: Brandyn Sal-Soren | Balun Dashiell | Rik Perris | Sera Rosh | Sara Celwik | Thayze Montserrat | Scavera | Talin Treicolt
Black Sun Syndicate: V1-L8 | Drystan Creed | Razmir Tezhyn | Koda Fett | Damien Dooku | Morrow | Sal Katarn | Mercy | Xeykard | Kingsley

 

[V1-L8]

TAGS: Kyric Brandyn Sal-Soren Balun Dashiell Rik Perris Sera Rosh Sara Celwik Drystan Creed Razmir Tezhyn Scavera Koda Fett​

GROUND FLOOR OF WAREHOUSE – SARKO VI

Razmir equipped a rebreather filter and tapped a button on the side of his comm-link. The signal for the ambush to commence.

<Time to clear the board. Leave none alive.>​

The signal came. A whisper of binary across a secured, compressed channel. Razmir Tezhyn 's voice was a codeword buried in the data. A command with one concrete purpose. Begin.

Time to go to work. One precisely calibrated flex of V1-L8's left knee piston sent the container's lid clanging across the warehouse floor like a klaxon alarm. By the time it landed, he was already rising. The GLX Firelance blaster rifle locked into hip-fire position. The grip molded to his servo-actuated palm like an extension of his chassis. Holding in the trigger, the barrel of the GLX Firelance blared aloud and began its spray of sweeping suppressive fire. The elbow port on his left arm twisted open. Raising the limb up, hissing pressure valves expelled a single Dioxis canister into the field with a sound akin to shard serpent's sigh. A canister designated to make kinetic impact for a single snake headed organic known only as "Target #2" ,within the YVH-1's offensive HUD they were locked on. Physically they appeared to be a a Twi'lek Scavera . " Heads up, Tailhead!" his hyper-masculine vocabulator barked!

The cannister would burst on impact, spreading its toxic payload into the area for all to choke on. A green fog, curling around persons and reminding everyone of the strike team how pathetically fragile their bodies were. Its going to be a work of art!

As soon as V1-L8's initial surprise attack was finished, the YVH-1 disappeared with a repulson assisted sprint to behind cover. <<" Activating PHASE II.">> He transmitted over comm's to Black Sun.

..PHASE II: ENGAGED
Warehouse droids activated...

Several dozen warehouse 5th-degree units, ASP-series labor droids, Binary loadlifters, MSE-6 series droids and GNK series droids all came to life. Shambling from shadows, their restraining bolts long overridden. They moved erratically, some still trying to stack crates or greet the intruders as was there protocol. The jedi strike team would all hear the same message from the droids that followed them or passed them by. (( Balun Dashiell Rik Perris Sera Rosh Sara Celwik Thayze Montserrat Talin Treicolt Brandyn Sal-Soren ))

"Alert. Alert. Nonessential personnel detected. Please vacate the area. This unit is not authorized for life preservation protocols. Reminder: You are currently obstructing a high-priority logistics operation. Failure to comply will result in demerits, report filings, and possible dismemberment. Local law enforcement has been notified! Have a marginal day!"

Other droids had been... adjusted. Welded claws replaced hands. Repurposed shock prods pulsed like fangs. There was no telling which droid would malfunction and attack and which would annoyingly hover nearby. A RIC-series general labor droid dragged a medium sized load on repulsors. Behind it a flailing hose pumped flammable coolant, leaving a slick trail of fuel across the duracrete and durasteel floors toward another another target. This one was known as "Target #1". Kyric .

 

[Drystan Creed]

SARKO IV: BOUNTY HUNTING

And showtime.

Despite the coordinated chaos of the ambush, Drystan refrained from jumping into the fray just yet. Like a discerning client, he simply waited, eyes sweeping over the battlefield like an expansive dinner menu. The ray shields would serve well to keep anyone from escaping, and while the gas being funneled into the warehouse was toxic, his suit's envirofilters would take care of it.

Minor inconveniences—nothing that would get in the way of his fun. And beyond that, it seemed surprise had brought them more of an advantage than he initially expected. Even the droids appeared to be working in their favor.

Then his gaze locked onto his mark: Kyric.

Drystan had taken note of him during their participation in the Kaggath, and the prospect of crossing blades stirred his excitement. The money was good—but that wasn't the real reason he chose to pursue this bounty.

It was as if the gunfire and explosions melted away, drowned out by the focus he poured into his target.

He did, however, notice a labor droid making its way toward Kyric. A smile curved his lips as he clasped his still-sheathed blade by the scabbard, noting the slick trail of fuel it left behind.

Without hesitation, he leapt from the rafters, landing atop a PSF soldier, slamming the man's helmet into the duracrete with bone-rattling force, a crater forming where his head struck on impact.

He unsheathed his blade—a songsteel weapon cloaked in a field of crimson arced lightning. A deadly promise. A fusion of technology and the ancient, perfectly tailored to his style.

Clamping the scabbard to his weak side, Drystan tapped the tip of his blade to the trail of fuel.

FWOOM.

With a wild sprint toward Kyric, his blade scraped along the fuel trail, igniting it further and—guided by the Force—agitating it into towering pillars of fire. Flames burst skyward wherever his energy-infused blade kissed the fuel.

The intent was twofold: to isolate Kyric from the rest of his allies and to carve out a piece of the warehouse into a makeshift arena.

Soon, a wall of fire roared in his wake, his blade now wreathed in flames as he closed the distance. Drystan unleashed a strike—meant more to provoke than to wound. A non-committal upward sweep aimed at Kyric's center mass, fire trailing behind in a dramatic arc.

An invitation. A challenge.

IMMEDIATE ALLIES: V1-L8
ENGAGING: Kyric

 

[Rik Perris]

OBJECTIVE FOUR
THE RAID
WAREHOUSE DISTRICT
SARKO IV
Aperture Shut

Knights Rik Perris and Sera Rosh headed a smaller, secondary force, set to ingress through one of the warehouse’s high windows. A window that might’ve cast the shine of a moon on the rafters, if there was one, on a night that the sky wasn’t cloud-choked and dispensing a deluge… but here they were, hair slicked to heads and faces, waiting for the signal that the main force had cleared into the rust-marked building. Black Sun wouldn’t leave their good unguarded, but they, and he couldn’t sense a single soul outside of the others they’d come with.

And the signal never arrived.

Ray shields came alive over every known entrance, setting a moderate buzz into the air, and spots of sizzle where the caulk had degraded. The sudden shift in energy and electrification of the window to all its sides made Rik edge back reflexively, but not so far that he couldn’t sneak a more careful peek… only to be greeted with the sudden eruption of chaos so thick and billowing of poisonous green gas within the warehouse that lost him metaphysical and visual surveillance.

And the lack of distress call, let alone the lack of signal, meant no comms. “Shit,” He near-mouthed, flicking a glance at Sera, “they’re being ambushed. Gassed.” His thoughts moved quickly, “Let’s get down,” he said, shifting his weight, “we gotta get in another way.” He cocked his head to one side, gesturing onward. “Come on.”

The Corellian had an idea.

He dropped to the ground, softening his landing with a deft bit of Force to forgo the noise of a thud and started a focused scan of the side of the warehouse. Feeling and sensing the durasteel panels in slow paces for a non-visible structural weakness, or visible ones by durasteel corrosion from the ravages of the elements and time, rain such as this; all were visible to this immense perception… even a small defect would do in either case.

Then he found one such buried inconsistency in a wall panel to the right of the middle of this side of the warehouse, closer to the back of the structure. He found it at about shoulder height - his shoulder - laid a hand against it, and narrowed his focus to affect just the right spot.

Rik poured the Force into it. The durasteel panel groaned, screeched sharply, and shattered, blasting inward, rocking the end of a shelving unit on one side, threatening to topple it, and slicing into some crates on the other, displacing them by a foot or two, and spilling their contents. He then stepped out of the way of the opening, letting green gas and stray blaster bolts meet the wall of rain, and looked at Rosh. Then pulled a cold, wet hilt into his hand.

"Shitshow in there."

Further blaster bolts came flying out of the opening. Punctuation.

With: Sera Rosh
Soon™: Mercy • Thayne Tameron

Other Allies: Balun Dashiell • Brandyn Sal-Soren • Sara Celwik • Scavera • Talin Treicolt • Thayze Montserrat
Other Adversaries: Damien Dooku • Drystan Creed • Koda Fett • Morrow • Razmir Tezhyn • V1-L8 • Xeykard​

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Wearing: Obsolete Military Hazard Suit, stealth field generator

Armed With: Nathan's Jedi Lightsaber, GWE-002 (Scoped, Laser Sight) Obsolete Blaster SMG (Scoped, Laser Sight), Ion Grenades (2), Smoke Grenades (2), Flash Bang Grenades (2)

Equipment: Ammo Belt, Anti-Security Blade

He had been keeping his body hidden with the aid of a stealth field generator.

Nathan knew a trap when he saw one. He had walked into too many ambushes, survived too many dark pits that should have been his end, to not recognize a death trap when he saw it.

And he knew his fellow Jedi were walking right into it.

He might have warned them, but a part of him knew it wouldn't have done any good. Too many dismissed gangs like Black Sun until they had to fight them for the first time. Nathan had fought such ruthless gangs in the Gulag Era and knew never to take them lightly. A lifetime of Guerilla Warfare led him to take a solo, surreptitious route to the warehouse away from the others. It was necessary for at least one Force User with proper Commando Training to be prepared to take the initiative. He couldn't sense the enemy, but that didn't make him feel any easier. There could be many reasons for that.

This all felt wrong. If he had been in charge, he would have requested spy drones and overwatch from a heavy gunship prepared to deploy troops fitted with Hazmat gear like he was wearing currently.

He didn't feel like he had gone in unreasonably armed. Nathan was a pragmatist. He had survived way too much to trust only a lightsaber for situations like this.

He knew the wrongness as he approached stealthily. When the security fields went active at the exits and windows, he cursed, hearing the shooting and screams.

He stopped hiding his presence, focused on the border around one of the ray shielded windows and yanked with a claw like gesture.

The ray shielded window failed and Dioxin Gas poured out as the window and a good chunk of the wall around it was emotionlessly ripped away by Nathan.

It was definitely an ambush.

One thing he had learned was that pain and sudden shattering of ego is often a better teacher for Jedi in the field than their own masters are.

It would do the ones who survived the ambush some sort of good. It would teach them to never underestimate these kinds of groups. In that and that alone Nathan would concede to someone like Razmir Tezhyn that the Jedi would definitely learn a lesson.

Albeit not necessarily the one he might have wanted to teach.

Nathan Force jumped through the torn away hole, white lightsaber blade active as he beheaded a Black Sun thug shooting at his comrades.

Lots of crates. Lots of close quarters. Shooting everywhere.

Nathan's lightsaber shut off and his rifle came out. He began shooting at the ambushers on the upper levels in full auto, already killing a few of them as he moved with a practiced precision towards where the shooting was strongest, using his Soresu training and Force Speed which slowed the world down Max Payne style to his perception to dodge return fire even as he blew someone's head off with a burst from his rifle.

There was no taunts. No boast from him. Just him dragging injured Jedi he came across away from the gas, his suit's filters fighting off the Dioxin easily as he blasted a gang member who tried to surprise him, taking the time to teleport injured Jedi out of the warehouse back to the start of the route he had taken to get there.

He needed to get to the upper levels now, he realized as he advanced, gunning down more and more black sun members with quick bursts. He shot every droid he came across, some trying to gang up on him

Drystan Creed

Koda Fett

Damien Dooku

Mercy

Morrow

Sal Katarn

Xeykard

V1-L8

Thayne Tameron

Sera Rosh

Balun Dashiell

Brandyn Sal-Soren

Sara Celwik

Scavera

Thayze Montserrat

Talin Treicolt

Kyric

Rik Perris

 

[Koda Fett]

His arm rolled forward from the punch, broken from that moment of calm comfort. In turn, Fett drew a blaster from his hip and left it there with the barrel aimed up at the bird. It said more than whatever words could have.

Years ago, Fett stumbled into one of the more... annoying consequences of his storied life. He preyed upon another hunter and his target opened fire on their quarry, Kingsley, and Fett gunned them down. Inadvertently saving the Hiitian, who promptly swore a Wookiee Life Debt that allegedly tied them together forever. Hence, platonic life partners. Never mind that Kingsley was, clearly, not a Wookiee. And whether Kingsley truly was a seasoned Jedi Killer, well, Fett had yet to see it. But, stranger things had happened.

Dwelling on that was unimportant, though. Not as the Jedi neared.

The ray shields came online, trapping them inside. Dioxis began to fill the room, choking and poisoning the unprepared and those that could not act swiftly enough. His blaster fire lashed out in bursts, striking a soldier or three that fumbled with their masks. And when the bundle of flash grenades blinded them, it only reflected off of his visor as he continued to blast bolts down range.

Fett grabbed Kingsley by the back of his long, spindly neck and in leapt off the cat walk. "Let's go, freakshow." He said in doing so in that odd calm he carried, soaring down low as a short blast from the jetpack was enough to slow the two down. In the middle of the chaos, Fett landed on a knee and held Kingsley close to the ground, beneath his extended forearm, which began to roar with an arc of spitting flames towards the bundle of Jedi and soldiers by the warehouse entrance. Even as others broke off into fights of their own.

Brandyn Sal-Soren - Balun Dashiell - Rik Perris - Sera Rosh - Sara Celwik - Thayze Montserrat - Scavera - Talin Treicolt - V1-L8 - Drystan Creed - Razmir Tezhyn - Damien Dooku - Morrow - Sal Katarn - Mercy - Xeykard - Kingsley

 

[Mercy]

Objective: Sit and wait around
Allies: herself for now | Thayne Tameron later
Enemies: Rik Perris | Sera Rosh

The explosions started and people were already speeding away to go to town.

Mercy didn't blame them.

Sitting around and waiting wasn't her forte either. She lit up her cigarette right as one of the outer walls was blown. She didn't know it was Rik Perris with Sera Rosh in tow. She just knew it sounded exciting and wanted a piece of it. "I will go check that one out, buddy." Addressing Razmir Tezhyn as if he was her dear childhood friend. Then she moved to pat him on the head if he didn't move away fast enough. "Just sit tight, don't let your pretty face get hurt, yeah?"

She began to walk and noticed an armored fellow perched on the catwalk. Mercy stopped and looked up at him.

"Hey, assassin boy, why don't you come along? Vigo's orders and all that." Waving her hand vaguely as she continued on. The implication there could be swung both ways. Either it was Razmir's orders or it were her own. She didn't really know how far her influence ran as a newly-minted Vigo. She didn't have territory or armies to rely on. Just herself, her reputation and scores of desperate hungry people who would do anything to get a smidgen of her shadow on them. Pressing towards the noises of people flowing into the warehouse after Perris' explosion.

Soon enough Mercy would get to fight.

Her teeth were already itching for it, she really needed to spill some blood.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Every now and then, I get a little bit nervous
​

Brandyn had led his squad into the warehouse, slipping through the door and taking position with backs against the inside wall, when all hell broke loose. Vision blurred. Adjusting to the brightness of the flash, and then the chaotic light show that followed. He proceeded on instinct alone as his vision recovered.

The shield came down. Blasters fired. And gas rose up from every angle.

The hum of his blade was an almost instant sound added to the cacophony and chaos. It was drowned out quickly. "Rebreathers," he snapped, as the gas loomed closer to their faces, "now..."

Choking sounds came from his left. A RIS agent that had kept close the ground, dropped to his knees, clutching at his throat. Tamnen, rebreather in place, was already pulling the dead man to cover behind a crate.

Several blaster shots came close, and were redirected. The first few hit the ground, or a crate nearby. The final one took out an approaching service droid with odd, claw-like appendages welded to the stumps where hands should have been.

Half a heart beat before the trigger was pulled from above, his senses flared, and he grabbed Balun by the cuff and pulled him to his side of the door. He spun hands pushing through the Force towards his squad. Cerys, Balun and the RIS agents were thrown with graceless ease away from the blast zone.

And then it hit...right where Balun had just been standing. No more than a meter and a half from the Sal-Soren. The concussive blast threw Brandyn through the air, back colliding against the crate right behind where his squad was still attempting to regain their footing. His lightsaber clattered to the ground just beyond his reach...

...everything went black for just a moment. Until the noise broke through, a loud rip in the side of the warehouse thanks to Jedi compatriots gave him hope. But as his vision returned, he looked at the professionally stressed faces of the RIS agents, and those of Balun and Cerys.

We are going to die here.

"Do...do you have eyes on Kyric and his team?"

OUTFIT: xxx
DIRECT TAGS: Sal Katarn V1-L8 Xeykard Cerys Dyn Balun Dashiell
Koda Fett [Cerys will respond to you] Kyric
EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber, Spike Pack
​

 

[Cerys Dyn]

Every now and then I get a little bit restless​

Moments before hell broke loose, her lekku twitched, just like they always had since that monster killed her master on Coruscant. It was the only thing that saved her life.

A blaster shot, errant, or maybe not, whizzed past her temple. She ducked on instinct and came face to face with the rising gas.

"Rebreathers. Now..."

Brandyn’s voice cut through the chaos, but for a moment, it made no sense. Her mind scrambled to understand what was happening.

Not again.

It was the choking of the agent to her right that snapped her out of it. She stood. Hand tugging her rebreather out from her belt, mere moments before the fog engulfed her face. The haze had taken them. And with it, confusion.

In the distance, she saw the illumination of Kyric's blade through the mist. Her instinct was to call him back, but everything happened to fast. Brandyn moved, and then pushed. She slid across the ground along the wall to the right, colliding with Temnan and the dead agent.

She was just back on her feet when the blast struck, right where they had stood. Wide-eyed she watched as Brandyn was flung past them. Then a Mandalorian landed beside…what she could only call a bird-thing landed nearby. A storm of fire followed.

She stepped forward, hands outstretched, and pushed. The Force bent the fire around them. "I've got this," she yelled at Balun, "but can you take care of them!"

Three servo-droids burst through the fire, razor-wire whips spinning overhead. They did not appear intent on slowing.

⊱⋅ Once upon a time there was light in my life ⋅⊰​

Many months earlier...

Cerys cradled En-Vala's head in her lap. She knelt on the hull of a ship ascending from the depths of Coruscant’s underbelly. It was filled with citizens fleeing from the Sith invasion. All around her, the air sang of war and death. But all of it closed in on her. All of it fell silent.

Her master was dead. A gash in her chest bled out, coating the topside hull. And Cerys cried.

"Don't go. Please. I..."

The words her heart longed to speak were an affront to everything her dead master had taught her. Detachment. Stoicism. A Jedi life devoid of home and filled with service to all that needed them.

But her heart knew the truth. She had loved En-Vala like she was her very own mother.

She choked on her words. "...I promise...I will be who you taught me to be."

| Direct tags: Kyric Balun Dashiell Xeykard Sal Katarn Koda Fett V1-L8 |

| Equipment: Twin lightsabers - Vowsake, and Dyn's Mercy |

| Guest writer: Dead NPC, woot woot |​

 

[Balun Dashiell]

TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART: OBJECTIVE 4
INVENTORY: Spacer Apparel, Echo Stone & Lightsaber
LOCATION: High Republic Troop Dropship, making landfall
ALLIES: Brandyn Sal-Soren , Cerys Dyn , Kyric , Thayze Montserrat , Talin Treicolt , Scavera
OPPOSITION: Xeykard , V1-L8 , Drystan Creed , Mercy , Damien Dooku , Morrow , Xeykard
DIRECT TAGS: Sal Katarn , Koda Fett & Kingsley

​

"OH CHIT!?!"

Dioxis grenades dropped from the rafters above, impacting the ground and exploding into giant green clouds of noxious gas, sending everyone into action. Blasterfire cascaded down upon them all from all directions and angles, the room lit up with blinding vigour as Balun fumbled for his rebreather somewhere on his utility belt; "Kriffing ambush!!" He shouted before shoving the mouthpiece in and inhaling deeply, fresh oxygen being taken into his lungs as his left hand tore his Lightsaber free from its holster and he ignited the amber blade desperately in preparation to defend himself and those around him.

Balun didn't have time to sense the coming blastershot, but instead felt the full impact of Brandyn Sal-Soren throwing him and Cerys Dyn both clear across the floor. He hadn't expected it and hit the permacrete surface hard on his side, rolling several times before coming to a halt and trying to pick himself back up. Turning to look back, about to dispute what had occurred, he found the position he had been standing in had instead been entirely decimated by some sort of powerful blast, still smouldering from whatever had struck the ground and the remainder of the iron wall.

Moving back to his feet, he sought to find Master Sal-Soren while keeping his cover behind the large crates and cargo containers, whatever was being contained within the warehouse. Brandyn had moved, and Cerys was no longer by his side. Everything had turned to chit so damned quickly. The blasterfire continued to scream continuously overhead, splinters of wood fraying and flying up and off of the cover that was keeping Balun from getting shot.

'Get it together. No going back now', He had to keep moving forward.

Stepping out from the cover of the battered and collapsing crate, Balun rolled his left wrist, spinning his lightsaber in a single rotating flourish before bringing the weapon to bear in both hands as he turned to face the direction of the blasterfire and began to focus on deflecting the incoming shots back towards the active shooters. The thick gas that had filled the warehouse made it nearly impossible to be accurate in the placement of every rebounded blaster bolt, yet the more he moved, the less he thought and those everyday training regimens and lightsaber kata had become instinctive and finely tuned.

As he continued forward into the gas, he found himself coming upon Cerys Dyn , turning himself to the left so that she might cover his right and that he wouldn't get in her way while they kept each other's guard, the pair becoming a greater wall of defence. Even as chaos seemed to reign down upon them and everything was happening so quickly around them, Balun wasn't prepared to proceed without ensuring that Cerys was with him every step of the way.

"Are you good?"

He called out over the high-pitched blasterfire, though she needn't answer as they would both bear witness to the sight of Koda Fett and Kingsley take the floor before them. One was a Mandalorian. The armour was a dead giveaway. Balun was immediately reminded of Fenn Stag and how fierce he had been to fight against in the Kaggath. As for the other, some time of avian creature that he had never seen before.

"I've got this," she yelled at Balun, "but can you take care of them!"

As Cerys Dyn established a telekinetic barrier shielding them both from the flamethrower of Kode Fetts Vambrace, Balun frowned momentarily. "Once I'm done with the droids, I'm coming back to help. The two of them are going to be a problem. One on one should even the odds" He told her.

With his lightsaber exchanged into his right hand, he extended his left hand out with fingers outstretched, calling to the Force and summoning his control of the ethereal energies around them. Much like Cerys Dyn, telekinesis was a skill he had learned early on.

Rather than allowing the three droids to get close enough to use their razor-wire whips against them both, he summoned a wave of energy surging from his inner core —an invisible wall of kinetic force. Unless these droids were of exceptionally rare alloy, there was very little chance that they would remain in one piece.

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Morrow]

"Try to incapacitate...if you can." ​

"You're serious?" Morrow questioned, shooting Damien a sideways glance. His eyes sharpened with apprehension toward his suggestion. Incapacitation wasn't his style. Especially not when faced with those mystics and their melt-anything-instantly sticks. He had seen very little of what the Force could do, and it was enough that he didn't wouldn't risk leaving one of them alive. Wizards don't have any tricks when they're dead.

<Time to clear the board. Leave none alive.>​

A nod accompanied the final glance to Damien as chaos erupted in the warehouse. Morrow racked the charging handle on his rifle and surged several feet down the catwalk. From above, he opened fire on those below, releasing a salvo of automatic fire into the backs of several unsuspecting Jedi. They might have had the sense of what was coming, but the rate of fire was too high to swat away with a lightsaber. He held down the trigger, sweeping the barrel across the group, handguard propped up by the railing. Crimson bolts pummelled their position, saturating the air with the smell of ozone.

It didn't take long for the full-auto to suck the gas-pack dry. The cartridge hissed and smoked as he ripped it from the weapon. A gloved hand snatched a dioxis grenade from his belt and dropped it over the railing as he repositioned. Weaving through the rafters, he slotted another pack into his weapons and set up on the opposite side of the warehouse. Again, he squeezed the trigger and unleashed rapid flashes of red kinetic death.

He swung following a cerulean blade behind a pile of crates. Stock kicking against his shoulder, he drew a small circle with the barrel and shredded the cover into pieces. Smoke cleared to reveal a swath of blonde illuminated by the glow of plasma. Morrow's eyes widened behind the sights, recognition jumping in his chest.

"No way," he croaked with disbelief behind his breather mask.

_____________________________________________________
​

Relevant/Mentioned: Damien Dooku | Talin Treicolt
Allies: Razmir Tezhyn | Sal Katarn | Thayne Tameron | Xeykard | V1-L8 | Koda Fett | Keys | Kingsley | Mercy | Drystan Creed
Enemies: Kyric | Brandyn Sal-Soren | Balun Dashiell | Rik Perris | Sera Rosh | Sara Celwik | Thayze Montserrat | Scavera

​

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Vicinity: Morrow | Damien Dooku | Scavera (soon:tm)

Friends: Brandyn Sal-Soren | Kyric | Balun Dashiell | Rik Perris | Sera Rosh | Sara Celwik | | Thayze Montserrat |
Criminal Scum: V1-L8 | Drystan Creed | Razmir Tezhyn | Koda Fett | Sal Katarn | Mercy

Chaos. Blind lights and emerald clouds. For a moment, it was a blur, and Talin had to blink the light away. Kyr was up too far ahead to yell for- but she saw the rebreather he was donnin’. Talin had a lot of things goin’ for her, but the brains to put something like that on her Jedi utility belt was not one of them. She mostly wore it to emulate her big cousin, anyways. The smarts to figure out what the mask meant were there, though. Don’t breathe. She managed a final gasp, breathin’ deep as she could, as the noxious tendrils met head level. Blaster’s were firin’ by that point. Static over her comms.

Not up for target practice today.

The cowgirl moved. Between shelves, behind crates, she stayed in motion tryin’ to think of a plan - any plan. Every fiber of her bein’ was fightin’ the urge to breathe. The warehouse had become a death trap. Over the sound of blasters, somehow, she heard the resounding crunch of metal. In her survey, she caught a glimpse of an opening in the wall was quickly airing out the far side of the room - but she was stuck on the other. Considering making a run for it, a droid popped from behind the crates she stood near, goin’ haywire.

“Alert! Alert! Unauthorized personnel!”

A slash of cerulean shut the thing up quick enough, but her chest was startin’ to ache, beggin’ for fresh air. A fresh wave of enemy fire sent her running deeper behind a line of crates. Eyes wide as barn doors followed the shots upward. They seemed to be coming from the cat walk she had seen Kyric gesturing to earlier. There sure were a lot of figures up there - but at least there was oxygen. For now, anyways. Clambering over the tops of the crates, she moved. A jump carried her over to a rack of shelving. Another shot flew by, clipping blonde tresses. Panic and desperation colored every feature as she broke into a short sprint and leapt upward. Even with the force behind her, she barely made it. One hand grasped for the edge of the catwalk, then another. Dangling there, Talin gasped in relief, treasuring each inhale. Celebration was cut short when she forms caught her periphery, down the walkway. Like lightning, she hoisted herself up, one knee then another, landin’ on the ground stomach first. When she flipped around again, her blaster was at the ready.

Spoiler: Tldr

• No rebreather
• Ran around the warehouse panicked
• Killed a droid
• Noticed the gas hadn’t yet rose catwalk level
• Think about how bad of an idea this is later
• Jumped to make it up to the catwalk
• Currently near Morrow and Damien, come at me

 

[Scavera]

D R O N E S
--- BATTLE: Damien Dooku ---
H I G H _ R E P U B L I C​

“We are the Mighty of Ashla!” The gospel bell rang. Amplified by her helmet’s vox-speakers. She gave her head an unceremonious slap. The seal was sure, steadfast.

Blaster bolts thickened the air, tinting the green dioxis with flashes of red. Scything through the fog they scored hits against lawmen and other ignobles. Willing sacrifices in the Long War, she assured herself. The cohort knew this could happen.

Violence was king on the hierarchy of desire.

“You are worthy of neither mercy!” She didn’t bother shouldering the scatter-blaster, popping off volleys from the hip in the general direction of the rafter-fire. Handful – akin to loosely thrown stones – slapped against durasteel and flesh. A scream. Tumble. Body meeting the duracrete of the floor. Her visor lit up. A custom designed crosshair linked to the shotblaster.

“Or forgiveness!”

An orb cut through the fog. Blinking red on tan.

Thermals.

She threw up a hand as the device enveloped her space. Blinding, all consuming flame. It was the center of a sun going supernova. It was all she knew, this moment seconds before death.

But Ashla had graced her.

Fickle tendrils of the Empyrean reached out and bubbled around her person – centered on her flattened palm. It was enough.

Only enough.

The explosion sent her tumbling, heels reaching to the sky. A dagger mid-flight. She landed on her knees, scrapping across the blacktop and sending off sparks. Warning signals flashed, her armor had been breached here and there.

She stood, unrelenting, adamant. Even with the shooting pain through her body.

She was yet mortal.

New target. Human. Taller than her and minimally armed.

“Judgement finds you!” She shouldered the scatterblaster and held her ground, letting out a salvo.

The disruptor found its mark, dissolving a large portion of the photo-reactive armor on her shoulder.

In return she let out a low chuckle.

She held down the trigger of the scatterblaster and began to slam-fire at Damien.

---
Kyric Brandyn Sal-Soren Balun Dashiell Rik Perris Sera Rosh Sara Celwik V1-L8 Drystan Creed