Ask Invasion Sith Invasion on Dantooine

Aadya Rasheer

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The battlefield seemed to be moving around Aadya as if she were standing still. Soldiers and gunfire, explosions and cries of pain and suffering reverberated through everything, but her eyes only looked forward. Legs moving without impulse, step after step. Hand gripped around her lightsaber, white knuckled and tense. Determined to make it back to the others, Aadya's trudging was only halted by something new coming into her view.

The shock of white hair is what caught her eye first, then the robes, then the brilliance of blue that erupted from the hilt of the man's lightsaber. With her Firrerreon senses she could smell him - the charred scent of skin, torched clothes, fear and pain - and was reminded of Clove. Aadya wondered how long she would carry within her what she had done to the tiny Jedi, and somehow knew deep down it would be forever.

He had started to move towards her then suddenly stopped, which Aadya found peculiar. An outstretched hand made her eyes widen - he intended to fight. The force tingled behind her and Aadya had no recourse other than her purest fight or flight response. Down onto her stomach she went as the hail of gunfire soared over her, but she was not fast enough to dodge it all. The soldiers around the one effected by Thelian gunned down their comrade without hesitation, unsure of why he was firing on friendlies but not caring enough to ask questions.

A bolt slid across her left shoulder blade digging a track in her armor. The pain, while not the worst she had felt, was enough to return the adrenaline. To make her smile, wide and fang toothed, like a predator finding enjoyment when its prey fights back. Aadya would waste no time in giving the Jedi a fight if he wanted one. She may have been injured, but she wasn't beaten. Not broken.

With her own outstretched hand Aadya channeled her pain into the force, tendrils wrapping around Thelian's legs as Aadya herself got back to her feet quickly. With a wicked twist of her wrist and clenching of fist, Aadya would attempt to send Thelian's knees in opposite directions - to either send him toppling one way or another, or split his manhood right up the middle.

Either way, she was only looking to disbalance him, not to kill him. For now, anyway.

You don't have to die here, Aadya shouted to him, her voice strained from earlier, but still audible. Your friend, the tiny Sephi, is dying afraid and alone back there. Be more than the allies you run from, the ones who tossed you aside. Save her before it's too late.

Aadya's lightsaber crackled and hummed, its crimson blade glowing menacingly in stark contrast to Thelian's azure one. Her mind went back to what Raze had done, what he had shown to her and what he had said to the Jedi. She knew the echoes still bounced within all of their minds, and with narrowed eyes Aadya wanted to turn those echoes back into deafening roars.

Go. Don't let her final thoughts be filled with suffering and pain. Aadya paused for a moment, though her guard was up and she would be ready to react to whatever the Jedi did, if anything. She is so alone, like you are.

But you don't have to be.




@Altaris
 
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Thelian Lsai

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Thelian watched, saber in hand, as Aadya dove to the ground – avoiding the vast majority of blaster bolts that had been sent her way. While he had been hoping to end things right then and there with the surprise maneuver, the Echani was nevertheless satisfied with the results. He knew that he’d done some damage, and if nothing else he had been successful in taking out one of the enemy troopers.

Unfortunately, Thelian wasn’t expecting the Acolyte to mount a counterattack quite so quickly. Nor was he expecting her to go for such a low blow. Silver eyes went wide as the Force suddenly coiled around his legs, his knees forced in opposite directions before he could defend himself. It sent a jolt of pain up between the Padawans legs, eliciting a high-pitched, pained yelp from his lips.

Without a second thought, The Padawan unceremoniously toppled to the left, throwing himself to the ground before any more permanent damage could be done to his nether regions.

As he laid against the grass, Thelian heard every word that Aadya spoke – attempting to play on the whispers of the Dark Side that had lingered in his mind, taunting him with whatever happened to Clove. In that moment, Thelian suddenly remembered the half-Sephi Padawan. He remembered the warmth that she had experienced from Crix, and the sense of longing he felt in response. The memory and words from Aadya cut Thelian to his very core, but perhaps not in the way that she was expecting.

Instead of being filled with a desire to comfort his fellow Padawan in her dying moments, Thelian felt nothing but frigid indifference. The same indifference that he’d been subject to only moments ago by the half-Sephi and her Master. The words of Aadya repeated, and they rang true in Thelian’s mind. He was alone. Just as he’d always been.

So why do I care at all about what happens to Clove?

There was, additionally, a key difference between the whispers that came from Raze and the Acolyte now. Unlike when the influence had come from Raze, the voices now did not solely exist in Thelian’s head. Instead of amplifying his doubts and whispering against his psyche, there was a definitive source to the voice that taunted him now - just as it had been with Senin. It was standing right there in front of him, and it was a source that Thelian could silence, just as he did that creep in a harlquin mask.

Slowly but surely, Thelian picked himself up from the ground – summoning the lightsaber hilt back into his hands and reigniting the blue blade. Like Aadya, the Echani was hurt, but he was far from being broken. Not yet. Steady back on his feet, even as the pain throbbed across his lower body, Thelian began to move towards Aadya – picking up the pace until be broke into a full-fledged sprint towards her. He intended upon closing the distance between them, to engage her head-on and give her no room for mental manipulation.

As he sprinted, Thelian outstretched a hand once again – this time focusing his attention strictly on Aadya. Tendrils of energy snaked outward, coiling around the Acolyte’s knee and ankle both. The woman clearly wasn’t above fighting dirty, and neither was Thelian. With an abrupt jerk of his wrist, Thelian attempted to twist the Acolyte’s ankle into an unnatural position whilst keeping her knee locked in place – intent on snapping the joint right then and there.
 

Aadya Rasheer

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The faintest whisper of a smirk slipped its way onto Aadya's face, condescending and patronizing as her eyebrow cocked in judgement. A Jedi who chose to fight rather than help, to give into his insecurities, his doubts, his darkness. Nothing Aadya could do to this man outside of death itself could break him anymore than he was already broken. In fact, the silence of death might have been merciful.

If he wanted something to rail against, to give form to his own pitiful fucking failures, Aadya would gladly provide that for him. She wanted hatred to pump through Thelian's veins like battery acid. For his heart, his soul to collapse in on itself, to swallow up whatever fragments of Jedi were still there. There was no worse fate for someone broken than to continue to live and become the thing they hate the most.

She noticed him start to run, his legs pumping until Thelian was in an all out sprint. She had been watching him, her gaze unwavering, and she was ready - just waiting for her moment.. and ah, there it was. The hand starting to move, another attempt at using the force. One that wouldn't go off uninterrupted, not this time.

Before Thelian's tendrils of force could work their way up Aadya's leg, she would lash out with her own and tear at the ground beneath the Jedi's feet. Ripping the rug out from underneath the sprinting Jedi, as it were. With his attention focused on such a fine manipulation, it was unlikely he would be able to fully react to his once solid footing being suddenly and violently removed. Hopefully, it would also remove his ability to defend himself while he went toppling to the ground.

As she herself started to move and close the gap, Aadya noticed a combat knife on the leg of one of the fallen soldiers near Thelian. With a simple flick of her wrist, she would release it from its confines and send it towards him, looking to impale the Jedi deep in his ribs before he even hit the ground.


@Altaris
 

Thelian Lsai

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As Thelian sprinted across the tall grasses, he could feel his heart thundering against the confines of his chest. Whatever Aadya had hoped to achieve with her whispers clearly hadn’t worked as intended. Instead of feeling the guilt and pain tug at his heart, Thelian felt nothing but frigid indifference – a passiveness to everything and everyone around him. He did not care about Clove or anyone else in the battle. He didn’t care about anything but the singular objective ahead of him.

To stop Aadya dead in her tracks, and to silence the voice that taunted him now.

Moreover, whatever reaction she might’ve hoped to elicit from the Echani, it became clear that he wasn’t going to give Aadya the satisfaction of any outwards response to her words. There was no pain or anger etched across his features, but instead his face was dispassionate and deadpan. Silver eyes narrowed into thin, glacial slits, never breaking contact with the Acolyte ahead of him. For better or worse, all of his attention remained fixated on her and she would know it.

His eyes widened slightly as he felt the ground pulled out beneath him, but quickly narrowed once again. He wasn’t expecting the sudden manipulation from Aadya, but unlike the first time, Thelian quickly mustered a response to it. Instead of attempting to catch himself as his body fell forward, the Padawan called upon the Force all around him, coiling the Light around his body.

It wasn’t a spectacular display of the Force, but it merely served to increase his momentum as he dove towards the ground. Due to the increase in speed as he fell, the knife missed Thelian’s torso by only a few inches – instead slicing the back of his arm as it continued on through the air.

The durasteel edge cut deep, drawing a steady flow of crimson that began to run down Thelian’s tricep, though it was not enough to stop the Echani dead in his tracks as intended. Instead of landing face-first in the mud, Thelian tucked his shoulder and rolled, ending in a crouch position.

While the maneuver was enough to avoid the knife to his ribs, it was clear that the Echani was moving less nimbly than usual, gritting his teeth as pain from the lightning coursed through his body. Slowly but surely, Thelian staggered back to his feet, bitterly forcing himself forward and towards the Acolyte.

A bit slower than intended, Thelian closed the distance between Aadya and himself until the Acolyte was within arms-reach. Switching from the reverse grip he usually utilized, Thelian brought his azure saber – still held in his left hand - downward in a horizontal swing towards the outside of Aadya’s thigh – attempting to slice through her leg in one fell swoop. The swing, however, quickly turned out to be a distraction. He wanted to force a low defense, one that left her center open. He would get it, or he would cleave straight through flesh and bone.

Just as his saber swung low, Thelian shot his right hand forward – fingers latching onto Aadya’s free hand with a vice-like grip. Without giving the woman much time to react, Thelian used all of his might to yank Aadya’s arm downward towards the ground and force her torso to bend forward with it.

As he did so, Thelian shifted his weight onto his left leg and abruptly shot his right leg upwards, bent at a ninety-degree angle – attempting to slam the front of his knee directly into Aadya’s face.
 
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Crix Aran

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Crix had a feeling Thelian was going to be stubborn and he didn't even know the kid - if he had more time he likely would have felt a spike of sympathy for all the people he had pissed off as a Padawan. He didn't because he had been, of course, totally justified in his actions as a Padawan and beforehand, naturally. No, Crix had never done anything as reckless as to walk back into an ongoing battle between Jedi and Sith with barely any training.

Sullust didn't count because he hadn't been a Padawan at the time - that was how it worked because he was smart, Thelian was dumb, he was big and Thelian was small, he was right, Thelian was wrong and there was nothing he could do about it.

Still, his focus was on his own fight - he couldn't afford less.

Xeno was a spry little bugger but Crix was no slouch himself. The Sith threw himself into a diving roll to avoid his counter. Though not fully it seemed if the exposed internals of the mechanical limb were any indication - internals that Crix was intimately aware of due to his degree. The existing damage would likely cause a small delay in reaction time and/or grip control within the limb, based on what he had seen. Crix spun to face him but as he did so he pointed to the other Zabrak with his pointer and middle finger of his left hand.

The Force was a circuit and he knew circuits better than most people. He hadn't sat through literally hours of lectures on the integration of circuits and nervous systems to not have the knowledge to capitalize on exposed servos and wiring of a system he was more than aware of.

A brief but intense burst of green electrical energy arced out from his fingertips at the cybernetic arm just as Xeno's roll was ending. Not Sith Lightning but, rather, Electrokinesis from his own bio-electricity and his shoto-saber's power cell as well, Crix's attack would target the cybernetic limb.

The power surge upon connection would cause the regulator model used by that particular model of cybernetic to break, causing it to default to it's safety mode. In the event of regulator failure the hand would assume the 'safety mode position' of a slack open hand, causing Xeno's second lightsaber to tumble to the ground as he would lack the hand to actually use it.

And would continue to lack the use of said hand until it was fixed. Crix would speak up in binary.

"Beep beep woo."



@Scoobert
 

Hannibal Grayza

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As Hannibal's empathic assault hit home through Raze's cracked defenses he realized to a small degree just how closed off this person must be. The flood of emotion and sensation was a glimpse into Hannibal's world and the Sith handled it even less well than he'd expected. This could be angle to work with, perhaps.

The counter-stun gave Hans the time he needed to regather his focus, shoto on guard in front of his lower torso. If Raze hadn't returned with an attack of his own the Jedi Master might've doubled down on the leverage he'd gained in the other man's head. Hans could handle many things, emotionally scarred and durable. Seasons couldn't be shaken from their course.

Love wasn't one of those things, a feeling he didn't really understand. Love received and recipricated by a monster was even more foreign. From a distance he knew, vaguely, what love felt like when others experienced it. He'd never really noticed it in himself.

Yet there it was when Raze bombarded him the sensation of being treatured. Most of it was tied up in the dead. Nashyr, beheaded on Coruscant. Max and Talak, both killed in the streets of Denon. It wasn't the romantic love the Sith had received and given himself. Still, it was love all the same. Friends and companions Hannibal took the risk of getting close to, friends he'd never see again in this life. He'd made peace with that long ago, scars tattooed over into something new and beautiful.

But he'd never experienced anything deeper than that. Suddenly it weighed him down like chains. That warm blanket was leaden, the rain hid stinging tears, the mountain air hurt his lungs, the water was poison. How could a thing like Raze discover what love meant when Hannibal hadn't? It shook him more horribly than he'd ever admit aloud even through his inherent resistant to mental attack.

But in a way... they weren't really gone. They were still here, in memory, urging him to move forward and stand tall. In his head, Hannibal heard a stern, icy tone sarcastically asking him if he was going to just sit there and die, a voice that hid worry in barbs. He saw bright blues rolling so hard he felt they might leave the woman's head. He saw a half-broken woman take his offered hand.


There is good in the galaxy, Trys. And it's worth fighting for.

Hannibal's expression, vacantly melancholy a moment before, suddenly hardened with complete and utter determination, a wry grin splitting his face. How could he have forgotten his own sentimental speech?

Staggered, down an arm but not yet out, Hannibal took action.
"I defy you!" he shouted, jumping up and several meters back away from the eldritch blast that turned the grass he'd been standing on to black ash. Seeking stray arcs of electricity ran up his left leg, new burns joining the old scars the Eternal had left. His arm whipped forward, launching the shoto straight like a thrown javelin with enough telekinetic Force behind it to go straight through Raze's chest or drag a more casual block back into his body.

Hannibal would land in a half-crouch, right hand laying on Sol Puara's purified lightsaber, the weapon he'd wielded most often since he'd gotten it.


@Sreeya
 

Darth Draugr

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As Xeno stood he felt a small twitch from his arm. Quickly taking a look at the insides of his mechanical arm being exposed he knew the dangers of the fight continuing. The Jedi may see him as weak, might even continue to target the arm. So much can go wrong from this. Looking up, he would see green electricity aiming for his arm. The lightning would connect the mechanical hand as it would send shocks through the metal.

Xeno could feel the burn within his arm. Since it was aimed towards the mechanical portion of Xeno's arm, there would only be a pinful numbing feeling left within the left arm of the Sith. The Jedi was clever. It was commendable and smart strategy, but this left the Jedi open for attack. The burst from the electrokinesis would leave the Jedi fatigued in force usage for defense. Lightning does damage to the host in itself, so it could be said Crix would be slow to recover from a small blast, especially after taking a strong hit of a force blast to the chest at close quarters.

During the blast to Xeno's hand, Xeno had been building the force within himself to launch a strong attack against his opponent. Xeno would wrap the force around the arms of Crix as he focused on using the lightning attack through the force, his defense would be minimal as his focus would be put away towards the attack. Plus, the cut from Xeno's lightsaber to the shoulder of the Jedi would minimize the defense in his arm. Xeno would also be furious about the attack to his arm, leaving his rage to fuel his attack bringing in as much force possible to the fatigued opponent.

Xeno would quickly tighten then grip onto the arms of Crix like a vice, and then with all his might bend them the opposing way their joints were meant to bend at the elbows. Should this attack work, the arms of the Jedi knight would be broken, leaving Crix defenseless and out of the fight. Xeno found him a worthy opponent, so killing him would only ruin what could be a good fight in the future. Besides, the darkness still lingered within him. May be useful.

"How's that for an upgrade?"



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Darth Raze

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Raze didn’t perpetuate with the lightning attack to preserve his Force reserves. There was no need to keep pressing when some of it began to snake up the Jedi Master’s leg. The Sith Lord kept advancing towards the Jedi, his mind still reeling from the throbbing pains of being infiltrated. He heard the Jedi Master’s defiant words, the Sith Lord entirely silent in response. Emryc may have been talkative but Raze preferred to be silently methodical and let his actions do the speaking.

The shoto sailed at him and his saber came up to bat it to the side as he tilted his body. However, thrown by a councilor it moved far quicker than normal. He also couldn’t have judged for the extra blade as part of the hilt. One of the lateral blades grazed across his chest as he batted the main one away, eliciting a pained grunt. There was a noticeable gash there, a burn to add to layer atop the lightning scar that had been there for years. His blade had cut through the hilt to make the shoto entirely unusable as it fell to the ground. It wasn't in Raze's nature to leave weapons live for surprise use later.

By then the Sith Lord was within striking range of Hannibal as he arced his blade from the Master’s bottom left hip to right shoulder of his torso before Hannibal could ignite his saber. At the same time, Raze focused on a sinister application of the Force that would apply right as Hannibal was focused on the defense of the saber. The lightning that charged through the man’s leg was still smoking a little and the Sith Lord capitalized on it, channeling inferno in its most cruel application. He would magnify the burns and send that heat deeper in to sear and cook the Jedi’s leg. Hannibal would feel as if napalm was ignited and clinging to his leg and was melting past the top layer of skin. Because it was taking advantage of the lightning injury, it would be that much tougher to shake off since Raze was not creating heat out of thin air. It was exactly the kind of maneuver Kravos was infamous for.

@Mr. Teatime
 

Crix Aran

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Part one of the plan worked as intended - the cybernetic hand was deactivated.

Even as he felt the Force wrapping around both of his arms individually, Crix used his physical muscles to resist the attempts against both of his arms. Although Xeno had a second to focus up, he was splitting his attention and power literally in half by focusing on each arm individually to secure them in place and splitting it in half again to push against them at the same time.

Without an opposing force to act as a counter, Xeno's attempts to snap his arms at the elbows would be easier to thwart as there was no opposing force employed as was usually the case when breaking arms at the elbows. Along with Crix's arm muscles being bulging as they actively resisted, Crix's arms moved despite himself, bending at the elbow to almost lock straight before his own physical strength stopped them roughly in place. His right arm didn't suffer from this at all but the wound in his left shoulder tore open more with the strain, blood oozing out as his left arm shook and strained that much harder.

However he didn't need to suffer it for longer than half a second because of part two of the plan.

Almost at the same time Xeno's cybernetic hand was damaged, less than half a second after Xeno had locked onto both of Crix's arms, Crix took control of Xeno's left-hand lightsaber with the Force and spun it into Xeno with a horizontal spin.

Xeno's cybernetic hand would be unresponsive due to the electric attack, not giving him any nervous system warning for when Crix spun the still ignited lightsaber into his body. The blade would cut through Xeno horizontally just above the waist in a second while the Sith was focused so intently on playing tug-a-war with Crix's arms.

Crix might have taken a hard hit before but electrokinesis didn't harm the user like Sith Lightning could and instead of splitting his attention and power, all Crix needed to do was spin a lightsaber with basic telekinesis once his opponent had focused and devoted all his strength with the Force to an all-out attack.

With the spin done, regardless of it's effectiveness, Crix would be able to use the Force to reinforce the strength and durability of his arms to power through the residual effects of the attempts to break them with a combination of physical and Force power just a second later.

He didn't feel like making a joke - if part two of the plan worked, the Sith would be in agony even if he wasn't dead immediately.


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Hannibal Grayza

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A quick inventory of approximate injury left Hans with surface burns on his left leg, the muscles beneath twitching from the shock, down half an arm, and now without his parry shoto. Only the second time he'd lost one to a Sith but at least it'd done something. Someone smarter, less stubborn, or both might be taking this opportunity to consider a tactical retreat. For Hannibal, however, throwing himself into mortal danger was alarmingly common. If he simply gave up he'd leave the others against Raze and, plus, he was pretty sure he'd get yelled at.

Hannibal wasn't still as Raze moved in, hand following the throwing arc to his belt and half-crouch stance adjusting for balance and movement, defiant grin still shining on the man's face. Raze got close quickly but the Jedi still had room to maneuver. It probably wasn't something the larger man expected like a flanking sidestep or another jump.

From his half-crouch position, he suddenly went into a short horizontal roll rightwards through the tall Dantooine grass while drawing Sol's hilt. The Sith's crimson blade buzzed past his hip, close over his side, and took another chunk out of Hannibal's cybernetic limb. Bits of smoking metal peppered the grass behind where he'd been. Mid-roll Sol's silver blade ignited and swung snappily right-to-left, aiming to slice through Raze's left thigh.

At the same time, there was the Hot Hot Leg tactic to deal with. The lightning-burned leg smoked, a puff of flame emitting from a bit of burned pants leg. His burns worsened slightly, fiery pain spreading up from the Jedi's calf, and then Raze's influence would meet a cold roadblock. Hannibal couldn't undo the damage, but he could prevent the Sith Lord from making it worse.

Hannibal would end up still low to the ground, legs back beneath him, left knee in the dirt. His saber completed its short swing in a higher guard, body swaying slightly like a snake's. Idly he wondered if Raze had ever had to duel someone who chose to fight from the ground, especially given how tall he was. Hannibal's knees were going to hate him so much if he lived through this.


@Sreeya
 

Aadya Rasheer

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In her time under the tutelage of Darth Stolas Aadya had learned many things. Some lessons were explicit, though most were not. As endearingly annoying as that was, it was the less obvious ones that tended to be most important.

One she thought of most often was how everything was blurry when you looked at it too close for too long. That your gut wouldn’t betray you like your eyes or your mind could. To listen to your instincts because if you couldn’t trust yourself you were probably already dead anyway.

So that was, for better or for worse, exactly what she did.

Aadya had never stopped moving once she had launched the knife at Thelian, never stopped watching him, waiting for that moment where you just knew, you just knew there would be an opportunity. When Thelian began to envelop himself in the force in an attempt at a much more graceful landing, Aadya’s gut told her she’d found it.

Suddenly, Aadya would slam the brakes, her feet sliding in the dirt as she went down into a crouch, while turning her body and so that her left shoulder was facing Thelian. She would stop moving when she was around one and a half meters away from him as she brought up her lightsaber horizontally so it’s tip was pointing towards the Jedi, holding it with both hands.

With the slightest movement of her thumb, Aadya activated the lightsaber’s dual phase function, extending it to its maximum length of two meters. It would reach this length in mere moments, the blade reaching Thelian just as he was coming out of his roll, facing Aadya.

Since the Jedi had intended to come out of it in a crouching position, the lightsaber blade would likely pierce him somewhere between his stomach and his chest, opposite his heart.

Given their distance, the blade was long enough to go straight through and then some at its full extended length - assuming Thelian wasn’t able to parry it away from him, which given his body was occupied with coming out of a impromptu tuck and roll, seemed unlikely - and Aadya would return it to its normal length right after.

If the Jedi did manage to deal with the attack, Aadya was still far away enough to be able to react accordingly, already starting to stand back up.


@Altaris
 
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Darth Raze

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The Jedi Master was correct - Raze hadn’t expected the sudden drop and roll. Most of his opponents tried their hardest to stay on their feet but very few knew the benefits of switching up tactics. While Raze had closed the distance, it was difficult to predict what the Jedi would do next. As the strike came from Hans’ right to left, Raze knew he would react too slowly to avoid it entirely. The Sith Lord was certainly not as agile as his opponent and was slower to react to tactic shifts. He could have avoided it if he opted to put more distance, but he had no intention of doing so.

The saber burned into the side of his thigh by the time he could act, a mechanized growl of agony escaping him. The Sith Lord slanted his wrist to angle his saber down at a 225 degree angle to catch the incoming saber in its tracks from doing further damage. This put him inside of Hannibal’s guard with the Jedi positioned in a half kneeling/half crouched position. Raze was positioned with his left leg slightly ahead of the right.

Raze drew from the pain of his injuries, channeling it into the dark side that coursed through him. As soon as the blade lock happened, the Sith Lord pivoted and would hastily grasp Hannibal by the hair thanks to his reach. This would be followed by yanking his head in while his right knee whirled in with a Force enhanced teras kasi clinch kick. The result would be a massively forceful knee directly to the face hard enough to shatter multiple bones. Without a usable left hand, with Raze inside his guard and with him positioned on the ground, there was very little in terms of options. Furthermore, the yank by the hair ensured that a push attempt wouldn’t disengage them. Raze’s saber was layered atop Hannibal’s to keep it at bay, keenly aware of any shifts in that direction. He was also wary of tricks like trakata which he himself practiced habitually. Any saber redirection attempts would see the Sith Lord putting Hannibal's own head in the way.

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Darth Draugr

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As the Zabrak Sith was focusing his strength on the attack through the force he would really dig deep for his anger. He wanted for this Jedi to lose what he lost. To feel what it was like to be part machine. To wake up every day and know that he's failed. Xeno wanted to beat Crix in this moment, for revenge, for the Sith, for his own accommodations, and also to show Crix he was a failure.

Then out of his peripheral vision, Xeno could see the hand of Crix move. The eyes of the Jedi went to where the lightsaber had fallen from his limp left hand. The lightsaber had been turned to cut towards the Zabrak Champion. As the blade had been falling, it would only turn to make contact with Xeno's left leg just above the knee. Cutting it completely off. The Red Zabrak immediately released his hold on the Jedi. The agony and pain would enrage the Zabrak as he would feel the burn in his leg. Then he fell to the ground on his back.

Looking down at the missing limb, he would become enraged, grieving for his missing leg. The Sith would let out a roar of pain, that was then amplified by the force into a force scream. He let it out loud enough for all on the battlefield to hear, those close by would be hit by the blast sent out from the force scream powerful enough to break walls.

"RAAARRAAAAGGGGHHHH"

It would last a good five seconds before dying out. The Zabrak remained conscious only to lie on the ground staring at the sky as the adrenaline in his body would try to reduce the pain he felt burning in his leg.

The Jedi had managed to beat him.. again. This was a good lesson to learn from, as he would remember his mistakes in this battle. He would remember Crix. There would be another day to fight. But for today Xeno would be done. He was bested in this combat. He would only hope his allies could take Dantooine from the Jedi.



@Nefieslab
 

Thelian Lsai

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As he dove towards the ground, Thelian caught only a glimpse of Aadya stopping dead in her tracks, extending the point of her lightsaber out to meet him. Silver eyes went wide with horror, and the Echani only realized what she was doing far too late, his forward momentum already carrying him into a roll.

He knew there would be no way to completely avoid the saber, and so he didn’t try. Instead, as he came up into a crouch, Thelian twisted his torso and angled his body towards the ground, while simultaneously coiling the Force around Aadya’s wrist, forcing the angle upwards ever-so-slightly just as her blade extended to meet him. As a result, instead of piercing through his abdomen and vital organs as intended, Aadya’s blade found purchase in the upper part of Thelian’s shoulder, plunging through the tunic and into his pale flesh.

Thelian felt as the blade of crimson plasma sunk deep into his upper arm, carving a sizzling pathway that tore through flesh and muscle alike. The Padawan couldn’t help but let out a scream of pain, molten agony coursing from his shoulder and radiating out through his entire body.

In vivid detail, Aadya would see the anguish that her maneuver elicited. She would see the tears that welled in Thelian’s eyes from the pain, and she would see every agonized twitch and contortion of his face. She would see each and every detail, and she would only have a split second to appreciate it.

Before the blade could pass all the way through his shoulder, Thelian brought up his left hand, calling upon the Light and sending a concussive blast of the Force directly towards the side of the Acolyte’s ribcage – forcing her backwards and cutting off her maneuver before he could be impaled completely.

Due to the close range, the blast would slam into her torso like a brick wall, likely knocking the breath from her lungs and bruising ribs as she was sent hurtling backwards. Even if she managed to block the brunt of his counterattack, it would still be enough to put several meters of distance between Thelian and Aadya.

Even as the distance was put between them, Thelian did not immediately rise back to his feet. Instead, he remained in a crouched position for a few moments more, instinctively bringing a hand up to his shoulder, clutching the wound that had been burned into his upper arm as the pain washed over him.

Slowly but surely the Padawan forced himself back to his feet, reigniting the azure blade still in his left hand. Instead of charging towards the Acolyte, Thelian dug his heels into the ground and assumed a defensive stance. He was injuried and moving slower than usual, and that put him at a disadvantage.

Instead of closing the distance, he grided himself for whatever the Acolyte would do next, prepared to react accordingly.
 

Hannibal Grayza

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Mr. Teatime
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An icy glint shone in Hannibal's emerald eyes the moment blades met with the smell of burnt flesh. This would be a lot easier if he still had his left hand and an uninjured left leg, but that wasn't going to stop the Jedi from trying. Every extra second was one where someone else wasn't fighting this monster of a man and that was good enough for now.

The Force flowed into and through him, empowering his body's strength as much as it could. Hans' body lifted upward on his good leg, head snapping left and mouth opening to bite down on the incoming hand. With Force enhanced strength and durability, ordinary teeth could dig- no doubt painfully for both of them- even into the Sith's gauntlets. Now with an anchor point Hannibal's body swayed backward, whole body yanking Raze toward himself to pull him off balance during the pivot.

Sol's lightsaber abruptly shortened as if to trakata but stopped at shoto length, breaking the saber lock enough to rotate in a clockwise circle and impact Raze's blade closer to its end to hook under it, shoving upwards until the silver point targeted the larger man's stomach. Abruptly an explosion of the Force rushed outward in a powerful wave, simultaneously helping Hannibal lift from the ground under power of his good leg and knocking Raze backwards. With this combined force the Jedi's weapon stayed on target, extending to twice its length to ignite through the other man's stomach before he was out of range.

Hannibal would rush forward while his legs still wanted to do what he demanded of them, blade at normal. It was a killer's tactic, guard up and an uncertain strike at the end. In the middle of a fight it was nearly suicidal, nothing new for Hannibal. He knew he couldn't keep up with Raze in the long run. A warlord fighting a healer-turned-Shadow in a straightforward duel wasn't the best situation.

But he could do some damage. Midflight Sol's lightsaber would arc, twisting beneath Raze's guard into a forward left to right cut meant to strike through Raze's left lung and heart through the ribs as he passed by.


@Sreeya
 
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Darth Raze

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Sreeya
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Raze felt the vicious bite on his hand before he could reach and grasp Hannibal’s hair. The tactic was bizarre, but effective. It was more the absurdity of it that stopped Raze than the pain itself. In truth, having dated a Firrerreo for a few years meant he had gotten accustomed to bites, and those were with actual fangs. Nevertheless, a surprise chomp on the hand was unpleasant at all times. He was pulled off his intended trajectory, right foot planting down instead of completing the clinch.

The Sith Lord had expected the saber to be switched off entirely, and he began to adjust accordingly. However, the Jedi Master surprised him once more by shifting the length of his blade only to a shorter one. Raze overcorrected and didn’t have his defense prepared. Yellow eyes widened behind the visor, but he already knew he couldn’t avoid what was coming next.

The Jedi Master sprang up towards him and all Raze could do was shift his left leg abruptly back to slant his torso. The end of Hannibal’s saber pierced through the side of the Sith Lord’s abdomen. However instead of darting in the opposite direction like Hannibal may have expected, Raze abruptly shoved himself closer. This caused the entire length of Hannibal’s short saber to pierce through the Sith Lord and exit out the back laterally closer to the surface of his body. This meant he was pressed closer to the man. Raze’s right hand moved to clasp right over Hannibal’s hand to hold it in place, keeping the saber pierced right where it was.

The Sith Lord grunted through the pure, unbridled agony. So great was the pain that it was almost blinding, sending hot tears down his face. So great was the pain that any he had any kind of Force bond with would feel a massive pulse that would ripple through them and disrupt them. Raze gritted his teeth as he gazed at the Jedi Master.

However, there was a method to his madness. Because he moved forth, and so too did his saber adjust. The left handed hilt was pointed straight forward, intended to pierce directly through the Jedi Master’s chest.

As his visor gazed towards those emeralds mere inches away, Hannibal would feel a sudden intrusion in his mind. It wasn’t as powerful as before due to Raze being severely weakened. However, it flowed easy enough because they were memories. Vivid memories. Memories of a man with a beard and silver eyes that drew Hannibal without his tattoos. Memories of a boat ride through a lake and offkey singing. Memories of smiles and comfort. Memories of passion. He would be flooded with the memory of every touch, every gesture, every word spoken all at once. He would be flooded with memories of the tall, bearded man that squinted into the sun after days of Hannibal working to give his sight back. He would be flooded with memories of the moment when that man finally turned to Hannibal with a half grin and said...

“Hello, Hans.”

The man that stood before Hannibal now. The man that was Raze all along. The man that returned to the galaxy only because Hannibal had restored his sight. The man that had slayed his best friend Talak.

@Mr. Teatime
 

Aadya Rasheer

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Empire
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Logan
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Aadya felt the tug on her wrist meant to alter the angle of her attack, but she knew it wouldn't matter all that much. The crimson blade still penetrated the Jedi in his shoulder. The damage was still significant and the emotions elicited from Thelian in response to the agony of the plasma melting him inside rippled through the force. They washed over Aadya, the darkside entering her freely, like her lightsaber had to the Jedi.

Instead of pain, she gained strength. Instead of doubt, she only had determination.

Around her, time seemed to slow as her focus narrowing as she entered what sports players sometimes called "the zone." She watched with unblinking eyes the twisting contortions of Thelian's face as he was unable to control the pain radiating through him.

Aadya saw the tears streaming down his cheeks, she heard the scream echo in her ear. Each and every millisecond was one she would keep, permanently cementing the memory into her brain like burning a picture into wood with a soldering iron.

Thelian's hand started to come up, a desperate maneuver to try. The fact that Thelian still breathed was not a choice he was making on his own. It was a gift that Aadya merely allowed him to have, and perhaps she had been generous for long enough. Before Thelian was able to fully channel the force in his hand to send her backwards, Aadya ripped her saber up and towards his face.

Thelian's subtle manipulation of her wrist had been enough to alter the trajectory just so, sure, but that had been all it was strong enough to do. Aadya still held her saber with both hands, she hadn't been injured the way he had, and she was still a Firrerreo. Her strength may have been deceptive because of her frame, but that didn't mean it was to be underestimated.

The blade may have not pierced Thelian through and through originally, but that didn't really matter now. As she Aadya moved her saber now, it was still more than long enough to catch right along the jaw line.

It would carve up in a line but taper out near the end, the width of the blade being just enough to catch the outside of Thelian's eye socket before shifting back towards the outside, though it wouldn't cut his brain.

Should Thelian's push still go through, it would hit Aadya though probably without the same amount of oomph as originally intended. Already in a crouched and braced position, Aadya would take the brunt of it without much issue and allow herself to be moved back a couple meters.

Should it not, Aadya would stand to her feet. What happened next would depend on Thelian.


@Altaris
 
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Thelian Lsai

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In that moment, time seemed to slow to a glacial pace. Even as the saber pieced his shoulder, silver eyes remained fixated onto Aadya – never breaking contact even as hot tears streamed across his cheeks. The scream passed through his lips, only for his jaw to harden shortly thereafter, teeth grinding together through a mixture of anguish and mounting frustration.

Only milliseconds had passed, and yet the agony that radiated out from his shoulder seemed to drag on for an eternity.

The Echani watched as Aadya suddenly ripped her saber upwards, grazing across flesh at it sprang towards his face. The combination of her Firrerreo physiology and lack of injury meant that Thelian was not strong enough to completely alter the course of her saber, but he didn’t need to. All he needed was to change the trajectory of the swing ever-so-slightly.

The subtle grasp around her wrist – the one that had saved his abdomen and vital organs from the saber before – had never eased, and now worked once more to bend her wrists backwards. As Thelian curled his fingers towards a claw, durasteel bands of energy sunk into the Acolyte’s joint, forcing the angle of her saber upwards and away from his face ever-so-slightly.

As he did so, Thelian abruptly jerked his head and torso backwards, the saber having long since passed his shoulder. As a result, the Echani narrowly avoided the brunt of the swing to his face – the crimson blade instead just barely grazing along his jawline, leaving a shallow, molten cut against the skin.

Due to his attention being shifted to bending her wrists, the Force push collided into Aadya with not nearly the same amount of strength, resulting in her only sliding backwards a meter or two. While less of a blow than intended, it served the purpose of creating distance all the same. Instead of immediately closing that distance, Thelian reached out with the Force once again – catching the Firrerreo as she was moving backwards.

Tendrils of the Force snaked outwards, coiling tightly around Aadya’s ankle. With an abrupt jerk of his wrist, the Padawan attempted to twist her ankle counterclockwise and into an unnatural position. In addition to snapping the joint, Thelian aimed to throw her off balance in the middle of her skid.

Regardless of whether his maneuver was successful or not, Thelian nevertheless staggered to his feet and began to move towards the Acolyte once again – saber held in his left hand as he advanced.


@Sreeya @Scoobert @LouJoVi @Logan @LilyNion @Mr. Teatime
 

Crix Aran

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With the grip on his arms released, Crix grunted in pain but he wasted as little time as possible. The Force was still at hand and he used it once again but this time on Xeno in a far more direct way - while he was falling to the ground Crix reached into the Force and thrust both hands forward, teeth gritted in a snarl of effort as he launched a thunderous Push at the Sith even as he just hit the ground.

It would pick the newly limb-challenged Sith and toss him across the field like a ragdoll towards the Sith ships and the troopers still entrenched there - the scream would echo but Xeno himself would be that much further from Crix so as to leave a ringing in his ears, a bad taste in his mouth and little else.

Let the Sith cry like a baby because he was denied the chance to cause misery and pain - but he could do it over there so Crix didn't have to even pretend to care. He was already out of fucks to give and listening to the Dark Side manifestation of petulance wasn't on his agenda, he had people to help.

Hans could handle himself... and if he couldn't then he was past any point where Crix himself could help against an opponent like Raze. Holstering his shoto-saber hurriedly, Crix knew his left shoulder wound was bad enough that he couldn't rely on it to block saber strikes - so he freed it up as he turned to where Thelian was combating another Sith. From what he could feel through the Force, it was the Sith responsible for Clove's own flight from the base.

He felt it through the Force... felt Thelian's pain, heard his anger and his need to do something in return. A receipt for all the pain she had put him through already. The part of him that some might consider close to becoming a Jedi Master wanted to think of a reason as to why Thelian should be calmer... but no.

Crix couldn't bring himself to feel anything but a dull sense of satisfaction at the idea of the Sith who had done them all such pain getting a taste of it in return.

Backing away from the direction of his own battle with Xeno, Crix kept his saber in his right hand as he made a curved path toward Thelian and his opponent, rushing to the aid of the Padawan while keeping clear of Raze and Hans. And, perhaps just as importantly, toward the next enemy.

Seeing Thelian reach out to ensnare Aadya with the Force, while she was ending the skid from his Push, Crix would use the Force with his left hand to grip onto a part of Aadya with a crushing grip. Well, she had a lovely head of hair and she was so kind to leave it just hanging there - Crix grabbed a solid handful of it with the Force and Pulled back, to yank her head back using her hair as the reigns. Violently enough to probably tear some of the hair from her scalp but definitely with enough Force to yank her head back and unbalance her body.

But he needed to do more.

He just needed to close the rest of the distance so he could help Thelian in the actual thick of it more.


@Scoobert @Logan @Altaris
 

Hannibal Grayza

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It'd always been Hannibal using dirty tricks that brought him success in fighting powerful Sith. From targeting Sol's mask to kicking ash into Vyrassu's face to disguise a binding trakata. Even his lightsaber's custom length adjustments were made to throw people off enough to get hits in. There was a vague hope he'd end up three for three on taking down infamous Sith lords, but he knew he'd been on the back foot for most of this duel.

His tactic was pretty good, another surprise. However, his body couldn't follow through properly. Hannibal was left-handed, not right. His left leg was injured and protesting his movement, limiting mobility. Just about the worst time for a mutual strike, really, but he didn't have many other options left. Unfortunately, the monster he faced down was just as self-destructive as Hans, moving closer instead of out and away.

Damn. The Jedi's eyes widened, teeth grit in a grimacing grin as a gauntlet bound his hand in place. Not a moment too soon since his next move would've been to drag the silver length up through Raze's chest to kill him, caught arm tensing in that direction but stuck in place. Hans adjusted his balance and position, twisting his torso away. Not enough, not nearly enough. No time, no balance, no leverage. Crimson plasma burned through Hannibal's chest only slightly off from where Raze had aimed it, avoiding immediate death.

A hiss of abject pain burst from between his teeth, whole body tensing, brows deeply furrowed. All the while those defiant emeralds didn't leave the Sith's visor from mere inches away, blinking only once. They'd almost look like embracing lovers if it weren't for the red and silver blades that impaled them, the smoke that curled in wisps from saber wounds and lightning burns. Material pain wasn't really something that could shake the Jedi Master, it never had. Those memories, however... They could, breaking his defiant grin into horrified shock as stinging tears streamed unabated down his face.


"... Rick?" Hans remembered those things very fondly before this moment, good things he'd done and experienced. Now each scene was tragic and horrible with the knowledge that Hannibal helped undo crippling injury to Raze that Talak had died to deliver. "Can't be true." A monster who'd perpetuated war and death on scales big and small throughout his career. Ajan Kloss, Denon, the prison break on Byblos. Stinging tears dripped down his face from the mixed pains that shook him to his very core, the foundations of his joy in healing others. "A lie."

Regret filled him for what'd been done because he knew it wasn't. That it'd been Raze he helped, that he'd revived a monster and sent it back out into the galaxy. Regret he hadn't done more, taught more, tried harder, been better. That he hadn't somehow noticed, or... something. That this horror was back and now there was nothing he could do. Hans was too weak, no strength left in his limbs or the Force, heart broken literally and figuratively. His remaining arm could barely move even if it wasn't held in place. Regrets to join all the countless others turned to despair and stole away what was left of his flagging energy.

But there was more.



The Jedi kept getting snippets of the other man's mind. He didn't know exactly what it was, but even in his final moments- final, because he was absolutely sure he was dying- instinct still guided him more than anything else. "Not Rick," He choked out through a collapsed lung, struggling to breathe. Hans didn't doubt this was the boatman he'd met across the universe. But Raze's mind just felt different in a way Hannibal couldn't explain even if he'd had the time to ruminate on it. Increasingly, emerald eyes looked farther and farther away. "The death of us both." Why had he said that, what did it actually mean? Who knows? He felt tired. So very, very tired.

Obvious agony painted his face, physical and emotional. The man was hurt and afraid. Anyone who arrogantly declared they weren't afraid of dying was lying to themself or others, separated from or in denial of sentient nature. It wasn't human, metaphorically speaking, to be unafraid. It was human to be brave. Hannibal had nearly died countless times by now, throwing himself into danger with reckless abandon.

Head to head with Sol Puara's flames, terentatek claws through flesh, lightning struck by the Eternal. A grenade going off mere meters from he and Trys to leave him bleeding out on the floor of an abandoned warehouse. Every single time he'd been afraid, even terrified. So he laughed and smiled, defying those fears.

Now was just the last time he ever had to brave, that's all. He could do it. Hannibal took a breath, slow and shaking. Lips curved gently upwards into a resigned and melancholy smile. Almost like a prayer he mumbled into the air, looking vaguely forward at nothing.


"Red leaves drift from trees,
a call for when it's time, so,

Be brave; choose to live."
His body fully relaxed, tight fingers slipping from the weapon embedded in Raze's abdomen. Breathing slowed to match a wounded heartbeat. Lids closed down over eyes that rapidly lost the glimmering and vibrant light of life. Now, at the end of everything, Hannibal found he couldn't hear. No more voices or flickering shadows at the edge of sight. No more echoes of others' pains and misery. Only the fading drum of his heart was left with the approaching chill of winter as he slumped forward.

"Aha," he sighed out a wry laugh to himself, breath leaving his body like autumn winds come to take him away. "Peace at last."

So then passed Hannibal Grayza, Jedi Master. Surely as seasons changed, as rivers flowed on endlessly to sea, he was carried off into that quiet and final good night to join the fallen friends he'd learned to love. He hoped they'd forgive him his mistakes.

Hannibal's last and most honest smile never faded from his face.



@Sreeya
 
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