Battle of Coruscant: The Streets

[Soverin]

■ I click for music​

It hadn't dawned on him until he was staring inches away from crimson plasma who he was really facing. These were sith, who bred destruction in all things. They fought for no end, there was nothing to reap from their conquest. After the Vicar had introduced so formally he was jarred when her second blade hissed and was extinguished. She was maddeningly still as she reached across arm to pin the dual wielded blade to her belt. She fought for no end -- she was being fulfilled in the very field of battle.

The Chiss commando, with right arm extended high over head in bladelock with the Vicar, looked onto her strange visage. A coarse laugh escaped his helmet's raspy voice module, followed by a few coughs. "This must be an honour for you, Vicar." Red sparks bounced against his helmet; beneath his vision was blinded by the intoxicating crimson light flooding in.

"I am Vak'rosh Stratakar, Supreme Commander of the Republic." The last of his words were spat venomously with Cheunhen influence, "but you say nothing -- I have no name for my enemies."

His sense of sound overtook him, throwing his attention left as a sith fighter was obliterated in the sky. A storm of pinkish blasterfire trailed in three separate bolts just over the duelist's shoulders, scattering rubble and duracrete to all corners. Rosh toppled back, able to catch a footing before skidding over the edge of the terrace plaza to an untimely death.

One of the walker's massive legs lumbered overhead.

I’m giving cover to get evac ships out. Do not attack this walker. I repeat do NOT attack walker SBV-W-8821! It is now under Republic control! jumped through his helmet's voice comm.

Blast. His transponder was attached to the sleeve of his armour... which he'd pulled off to halt the Vicar's flames. The Vicar; he jumped to check over his shoulder for the woman, unable to pick her out among the flashing smoke. Good. It was a chance to slip away. Rosh's exit was less stealth involved than his entrance, using the chaos of the Walker's bombardment to sprint off and into the nearest tower -- it just had to be tall enough.

■ II click for music
​

Filing into a tower that wasn't burning he encountered the jedi from earlier, still at work fighting sith. "You! C'mon!" Was all Rosh could shout before he was barreling into the lobby. His chest felt sore upon the sight of one of his soldiers, charred from neck to toe, clutching lifelessly to his blaster. If there were more time he would've deserved a proper funeral, but his memory would suffice well enough; Rosh snatched the rifle and holotags from the soldier's corpse. Before calling an elevator he noted the opposite lift, which was destroyed, spurting blood trails onto the lobby's dusty floor. Another bolt from the walker permeated the atmosphere, shaking all architecture, and inhabitants, to the core. I'm coming, I'm coming.

The elevator panel finally chirped to life, opening the doors to reveal an awaiting chamber. Rosh pulled the jedi in with him and scanned between the hundreds of floors. 20, 20 is good...? The elevator sped off, trailing up the walker's flank -- he had to resist the urge to wave. Talia carved relentless into the incoming sith forces, clearing some skyway as well. As they came up over the walker, his gaze drifted to the transport ships. If they were going to stand any chance, they had to go to the capital; but they would forsake so many to the cruelty of the sith. They could have a hundred ships, a thousand, a million -- the death toll would rise to match.

"Follow me." The Commander dashed out of the elevator, taking his rifle in one hand to pull his grappling rope with the other. A small hook tipped the end of the rope, rapidly unspooling from his belt as he extended a gracious length of the wire around his vacant palm. They were twenty stories high, a key factor Rosh had forgotten until he crested the edge of the tower's twentieth terrace. His toes hovered the nearly thirty meter drop as he twirled grappling hook in hand and prepared to throw.
"Oh, kriff..." He exclaimed, shakily rubbing some soot from his brow. The Walker stormed sluggishly by before him like some massive creature -- it made the wrangling all the more frightening. When the giant machine lifted it's head he noticed one cheek was singed through, showing a wide gap into the cockpit of the thing.

"Who in the hell is that woman." He sidled over to better accommodate the angle of the opening. A few anxious twirls and he lobbed the grappling hook, clanging and biting down on the framework of the Walker's breach. For a moment he smirked in victory, quickly flushed to a realizing expression the distance between he and the walker quickly became wider. The spool of wire around his hand ran across his skin and vanished slowly, mockingly. The Commander could do naught but roll his eyes and look over toward the jedi before he was flung through the air into the street proper. Energy bolts flew past blindingly as he dangled from the hip, soaring this way and that through the air when the Walker looked to shoot. Even in his comedic state he reached upward to equip his blaster pistol, firing off toward the sith forces scurrying on the ground. It took more than a few swats before his hand found the retraction button on his belt, pulling him up and into the cockpit like a spider to it's web.

Inside he was surprised to find Talia sharing snacks with the enemy pilot. ​

Peaceful coexistance, I suppose.
​

■ III click for music
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THUM. Rosh planted his helmet down between both pilots on the dashboard of the cockpit. His face was darkened strangely, cutting a patch of pale skin in a T over his features from flash. He would sit there in silence, leaning his arm over the sith pilot, Fruwell's, headrest. Ashen black curls tufted his dome, skin showing a rich royal blue, as obscure as light was in the dimly lit cockpit. It was almost teasingly that he rubbed at his eyes, hiding them from glimpses for a moment. Those eyes, a juxtaposition to his very being, mimicked the flashing crimson light surging in through the walker's windshield.

"I would make you a lieutenant if I weren't prepared to put a bolt through your skull." It was the best greeting-slash-thank-you he could muster for the woman, who he realized all too late was not just a well armoured adventurer. "My name is Rosh Stratakar." The aforementioned Stratakar reached into a pouch at his chest to retrieve a stiffly rolled stick of t'bac. Patting his suit for a light, he continued, "no doubt you're going to the Rotunda? I hope." He leaned against the back of Fruwell's chair, finally finding a push-lighter to ignite the herb impatiently.

​

( @Sreeya @MasterTyvokka @Kori Buor @Cainhurst Crow @Rimrald @Prudence @Branok )​

​

 

[Irxirola Mishka]

The dual with the elder of the two Sith seemed to drag as they fought. “Better late than never, Irx. Looking a bit rough, I see.” He turned his head towards the Hapan. "We can't all be bred for perfection." He shot back at her, and sighed, rotating his blade. He was vaguely aware that the reason Sigal hadn't withdrew from the fight was because of his own state. Good job, Shabuir. He cursed himself, “I must say, the broken nose adds a certain devil-may-care charm. Suits you perfectly.” His female counterpart didn't seem to mind too much, and he again, had a rebuttal for her jabs. "That's like the second time this week you've complimented me, Sigal. You're getting soft." However, after they exchanged pleasantries, everything was grim determination. The extended skirmish between the two Initiates and the Sith ended after a few minutes of low grunts, relentless assaults from the two Jedi, and his counterpart killed the Sith, with a clean stab through his chest.

His fellow initiate was a bit more collected than he was, and while he felt the minor pain from his earlier battle with the Sith, with the adrenaline coming down, he winced at the burning sensation in his nose. He looked over towards Valen, who seemingly had his situation under control. He could here Sigal talking, but everything she was saying was lost on him. Whatever exit route she had, he was now positive it was going to be void. Sith ships poured out of the sky. People were dying. Not just combatants, people that were fighting, he watched as a Sith fighter opened up on a medical evacuation ship.

He briefly remembered one instance where his Master, upon meeting him, asked him why he hated the Sith. While the Lethan would never openly admit that his seething hatred for the Sith stemmed from what they were as people, he watched as the medical ship crashed into the city, killing more and definitely killing whoever was still alive in the ship. "Siggy.." He let her nickname slip, "I think we need a new evacuation plan." He moved over towards the female Hapan. Death was a thing that he had become acquainted with all too quickly. While he felt the lives disappear into the Force, he felt sorrow, very briefly, and he crushed it, he held no attachment to these people, and felt nothing for them.

Compassion, he felt, he would remind himself later while meditating over this battle, but now, he obliterated his feelings again. He would be disappointed with himself later on. He was supposed to heed the teachings of his Master, but he seemed unable to. He drew his lightsabers. "The refugees." He said, gesturing towards the location of where the last refugees, "We should protect them."

@Esther Nyx @Valen Pelora

 

[Rimrald]

“Lots of them landing behind the walker. Best way to get civvies off. Act now,”
Yes right, ok he mumbled in his head waving on the civvies in an all out sprint the handful of mixed races and species roughly two dozen in number following behind, the few who were armed coming to the front. As they moved past the horrifically large walker, slightly losing their balance as the feet connected with the ground Wyr'ren snatched up the weapon of a fallen Mando looking it over quickly then holstering his pistol with the newly acquired blaster he pressed on hoping the others would follow.
"I'm heading for the closest ship, hopefully there won't be too much resistance but if there is I'm going to need all the back-up I can get." Releasing the button on his comm he pressed forwards making a vault over a piece of debris heading towards the landed ships.

( @Sreeya @MasterTyvokka @Kori Buor @Cainhurst Crow @Prudence @Branok )​

 

[Jason Vaiken]

The Sith in charge of the flotilla was not pleased as figures came in, in regards to a hijacked walker tearing apart and annihilating at least 45% of the troops he deployed to the streets of Coruscant. He was also not pleased when a volley of fire tore right through the bottom deck of 3 of his Leviathans and damaged them quite heavily.

"All available wings, we have lost a walker, find it and terminate it."

Hopefully with the walker neutralised they will be able to offload the next wave.

"Stall all reinforcements to that area until the walker is destroyed and inform Admiral Tyradell to divert reinforcements away from this area, until the Walker is dealt with."

With that 8 fighters and 2 bombers peeled off and began to try to locate and destroy the Walker.

 

[Valen Pelora]

He was one with the Force, the Lightside coursed through him. Jedi Knight Valen Pelora had lived his whole life searching for his place in the galaxy. He had dedicated himself to helping the fringes of society. He poured himself into mending the rends left by the War. He was a healer. He was a diplomat. He saved lives, he didn’t take them. He had walked the path for 26 years and never faltered, the Force had changed his path.

He stood surrounded by death, the Darkside’s grip slowly tightening on Coruscant. The Jedi and the Republic were losing. The last few months of life had been filled with conflict. Argazda, Chandrilla and Sophelus. He had spent countless sleepless nights wondering why the Force was shoving him towards death. Now, he knew why. The Force had been preparing him. Coruscant didn’t need a healer, his students didn’t need a healer, and the refugees didn’t need a healer. Right now, they needed a warrior. They needed a sword and shield. He would protect them or join the Force trying.

Filled with the Lightside Valen charged. His Lightsaber hammered the Sith’s and he sprung backward. He charged again, and again and again. Harrowing the Sith’s defenses, forcing him to move, forcing him to adjust. He could feel the Sith tiring in the Force as Valen charged at him from all angles. Rage spiked in the Force as the Sith screamed.

“ENOUGH!” The Sith’s hand shot out and blue lightning emitted from his gauntlet. Valen raised his Lightsaber and caught the lightning. He gritted his teeth as he was pushed backward. The Sith deactivated his lightsaber to outstretch his other hand. Lightning crackled. Valen could feel his arms tiring as he was being pushed farther and farther away. His hands were burning as Force Lightning coursed across his emerald blade. He could not hold out much longer, he had to act. Quickly.

He closed his eyes to gather the Force. He held on as long as he could, building the Lightside within him. He had never tried what he attempted now. He was nearing a wall, if he didn’t strike it would be over. The Force roared inside of him and then roared all around them. A massive shockwave left his body, screaming towards the Sith. The lightning hit Valen and slammed him into the wall. He felt armor crumple, bones crush, blood spatter. He felt the Sith die. He slowly stumbled to his feet. His robes were smoking and his Lightsaber had been knocked away. He summoned his Lightsaber to him with a small flick of the Force. His body ached and he was exhausted but he pushed it all aside. He had no time to be tired, no time to feel pain. He would fight until he couldn’t.

He quickly scanned the streets with his eyes and the Force. Relief washed over him. Sigal and Irx were alive. He slowly walked towards the two Jedi Initiates. Sith fighters and bombers flew overhead as more refugees tried to flee the streets. Their work here was not done. He wanted to keep Sigal and Irx safe, but he knew what he had to ask of them. They were Jedi and people still needed them. He resigned himself to an impossible task. A weary smile crossed his face as he reached his charges.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He noticed Irx redecorated face. “Irx even has a souvenir.” His eyes continued to scan the skyline as he spoke. “We need to protect the refugee’s escape, they are target practice without us. We are their only hope but we can’t do it alone. We need reinforcements and we need a defensible position.” He was hiding nothing in the Force, everything he felt they would feel. “I wish I didn’t have to ask this of you, I would give my life to see both of you safely of this planet but I need your help. We can only save their lives together. If you want to leave, escape Coruscant, I will never hold it against you but I am asking you to stay and be a Jedi.” He reached into his singed robe pocket and retrieved a commlink. He opened a com to all Jedi and Republic frequencies.

“This is Jedi Knight Valen Pelora, my students and I are covering a group of refugee’s escape. We engaged the enemy but need assistance. Please advise on a defensible location and potential reinforcements.”

He waited for Sigal, Irx and hopefully some help to respond.

[OOC: We are hoping to join up or get close to where everyone else is located, an IC response to the communication would be greatly appreciated.]

@Esther Nyx @Irxirola Mishka

 

[MasterTyvokka]

The situation Jacen found himself in was all rather absurd. He was clinging on to the leg of a walker which he had somehow managed to secure himself despite his nearly useless left arm. Jacen could hear music coming from the fresh hole in side of the walker while it seemed madness, or desperation, had taken hold of solider who was being pulled through the air his grapple which was attached to head of the walker. All of this taking place in the middle of a war zone in which the side he was on was loosing... badly.

Jacen had gotten himself ontop of the walker foot and was on the inside of the leg. He decided to stay there for the time being because he was stable and it provided decent cover. Jacen's ammo was running low so he had to make every shot count. He looked behind the walker to see how far away from the charges they had gotten. He dropped an SBZ soldier while he was at it. Suddenly movement high above caught his eye. A group of small ships, only specks from that distance, had broken off seemed to be heading toward the walker. It made perfect since. The Brotherhood clearly wouldn't want to keep a walker in enemy hands. "We've got incoming ships. 6 O'clock" Jacen alerted talia before getting ready to blow the charges now far enough behind them.

The opportune moment to blow charges was at hand. A lander had just begun to disgorge its load and a nearby enemy fighter was almost above the spot, zeroing in on the walker. "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" With that Jacen thumbed the detonator. The Brotherhood lander exploded in a brilliant ball of flame. Debris and shrapnel flew in all directions. The fighter heading towards the walker was caught in the blast and spun out of control slamming into a building. The lander continued to burn and a debris cloud slowly rose into the air. Hopefully the black smoke and debris cloud would help keep the walker obscured from the incoming fighters and bombers.

The explosion should act as a distraction allowing those trying hijack a lander to evacuate the rest of the civilians to do so. Looking ahead Jacen could see the walker was lumbering toward the Capital Rotunda, obliterating everything in its path. In this war zone Jacen was in a good a spot as any. Might as well just stay there until it became just dangerous enough so that it was better to leave then to stay.

(@Sreeya @Soverin @Kori Buor @Rimrald @Prudence @Branok )

 

[Soverin]

(OOC: posted at work, will tidy up later.)​

Before either Talia, or gods forbid Fruwell, could reach for the transponder at the cockpit's dashboard Rosh had leapt forward and activated the device of his own accord. Straddling the stick of t'bac at the tips of his teeth he spoke, allowing the rampaging Mandalorian to do her thing. "We hear you, Valen." He scanned out the windshield for the Jedi, hoping to find sabers in friendlier shades among the war torn rubble. "We've taken a Walker, SBV-W-8821." The issue code was clearly painted across the side of the colossal machine, composed of wide blocky yellow text.

"Advise on your location?" Through a side viewport he caught sight of two Sith fighters soaring overhead, quickly detouring to circle around. "We have company, in the sky!" Rosh pointed, trying to get the Mandalorian pilot's attention.

( @Valen Pelora )​

 

[Versok]

Wigee left the nautolan escape,it was not worth killing a innocent person if he didnt surfer enough,and she had to find that jedi before she escaped,the jawa began to run to find her, but she was not able to find her,so she would have to bait her,she found a whole family trying to escape and decided to strike the male down and then using his lightning on the woman... and child,their screams should be enough to bait the usual jedi,no one would leave a defendless child suffer without trying to do something about it

 

[Rimrald]

With his path behind him blown into next week he and the civilians pressed onwards, encountering light resistance as they hunkered down at a small intersection looking onwards at a landed transport, a few figures near the shuttle and a few more scattered about. Creeping forwards he pulled out his monocular and scanned the area with the thermal setting, seeing seven figures in total he moved back to the group and began to brief the civilians on the coming task.

"I saw seven heat signatures in total, two stationed at the ship and another five patrolling. One alone in the second story of that building providing over watch and two, two man teams making rounds in a perimeter of sorts. Those of us that are armed will take out the two guards at the shuttle first allowing you lot to get on board, then we will do our best to dispatch the rest of the aggressors and join you on board for hopefully an escape." With that he broke off, three other armed men in tow, setting up in the best firing positions they could find while still being concealed, taking up targets they waited for Wyr'rens mark.

3....2....1....

"Take the shot!"
​

The small flurry of blaster fire darted through the air, connecting with the two stationary men and quickly redirecting their attention to the sentry and patrols as the unarmed civilians waited in relative safety. Attempting to dispatch the man in the elevated position one of the civilians broke from cover gaining a flank on him only to be rittled with blaster bolts, this how ever left the duo of the first patrol exposed and then dispatched by the three remaining in cover. Next they focused on the patrol to the right side of the small clearing, whom had rushed forwards in an attempt to engage them. Flinging a detonator forwards and landing at the trios feet, Wyr'ren quickly picked it up and lobbed it at the sentry in the elevated position as best he could. As it detonated he quickly realized that he had succeeded as debris and body parts flew from the opening he was using as a view point, turning their attention to the last two men the armed civilians and Wyr'ren moved forward, laying into their position in an suppressive manner, Wyr'ren pulled out his holo to signal the unarmed civvies to make a run for the shuttle. Shouting to the men with him to press the attack he peeled off and joined the roughly two dozen others as they stormed the ship.

Pressing past the civilians and into the cockpit he saw through the view port as the two men with him before were gunned down by the assailants. Having no time for sorrow he pressed the button on the control panel to close the landers troop door as blaster bolts flew into it. Patching into the shuttles comm system he instructed the civilians to take seats and buckle up as this was going to be a hell of a ride, flipping a myriad of switches and knobs he grabbed the yoke as the ships engines sprang to life and they ascended. Opening his bag quickly he saw that the stacks of credits were still intact, and with a toothy grin he found himself in a euphoric state, criminal and hero all in one he thought, what a hell of a situation.

Snapping back to reality he turned the ship towards the sky, looking briefly at the now friendly walker lumber towards the capital he chuckled and accelerated towards the patch of open sky that was most likely soon to be infested with more enemy ships. Departing past large transports and frigates he weaved past a flight of fighters that looked like they were on the hunt. Thinking nothing of it he pressed on, opening the comm to thank the republic soldiers..
"Well any friendlies on this net this is.... Zelos Actual" Thinking of the call-sing on the fly
"Thanks for all the help boys and girls, majority of the civvies are on board and were headed for neutral space, good luck with the crazies!" He closed his holo as they reached atmosphere and he began programing the navi-computer for the closest neutral system. Punching it in when they broke atmosphere he engaged the hyper drive and the ship vanished into deep space.

( @Sreeya @MasterTyvokka @Kori Buor @Cainhurst Crow @Prudence @Branok )​

 

[Bailey Arterius]

Bailey flew overhead in her XJ-6 airspeeder, she was only visiting her mother in Coruscant and was on her way out. She stayed low and behind buildings trying to get a grasp of what to do. She grabbed her DL-44 from her bag, and watched as a Sith Lord struck down a family. She turned her airspeeder around, hoping to get back to her Mothers home in time. She made it through a few crowded and chaotic intersections before she was struck down by a tie fighter. She scrambled to hop out of her burning vehicle and figure out where she is and how much farther it is to her mothers house.

 

[Nox]

Chelin heard the screams of an innocent child, she had to save the child, if not it would end up as her.....
Chelin ran towards the sound, or atleast where she thought it was. She kicked up the door and saw the Sith.

 

[Prudence]

Talia felt the lightsaber begin to cut through something inside the cockpit, the gesture accompanied with an almost high pitched scream. She heard a man on the comms making a rather lame pun while asking about her vantage point, “Lots of them landing behind the walker. Best way to get civvies off. Act now,” (@Rimrald )She focused her attention back to the matter at hand, hauling herself in to face a man that looked utterly confused and taken off guard, fingers orange from eating chips.

Without a word, Talia plopped inside and kicked out the remains of the lieutenant’s body, the poor man falling over 22 meters before splatting the ground. Talia glanced at the remaining man, her sunspear already drawn and ready, “I hope by now you’re close to shitting your pants. If so, you will keep moving this thing forward and towards the capital unless you want to join your friend down there.”

Without further explanation, Talia moved over to the controls for the guns, applying what knowledge she had working ships and weaponry. After a few seconds, she quickly figured it out, aiming the guns. From the outside, Imperials were in for a surprise as their ships and soldiers were suddenly mowed down. The walker’s heavy blaster canons blew apart any dropships that brought in more soldiers and blasted through line after line of enemy soldiers. There was chaos erupting within the Sith and SBZ ranks, confusion throwing off their otherwise controlled attacks. Talia aimed for another walker in the distance, blasting it directly in the cockpit and setting it ablaze.

“YEAH!” Talia shouted in delight, sliding up her visor and reaching over to nab some of the man’s chips as she also stole his comm from him. She popped a few of the chips into her mouth, grinning almost maniacally as she continued to fire at Imperial soldiers. She was aware of her strange choice of company the entire time, ready to blow his face to bits if he did anything suspicious.

“I’m heading towards the capital,” She spoke into her open comm line, “I’m giving cover to get evac ships out. Do not attack this walker. I repeat do NOT attack walker SBV-W-8821! It is now under Republic control!” (@Soverin @Kori Buor @MasterTyvokka )She peeked over to see what the Imperial pilot was doing, muttering just loud enough for him to hear, “Ugh I’ll need a stiff drink after this.”

@Prudence

Laurence's jaw just kinda went slack as the woman pushed the Lieutenant out of the hole and then settled in his seat. He stared at her and felt his heart beat out of his chest. He worked as best he could to swallow the rest of the chips in his mouth and just pushed the throttle for the walker forward as fast as possible, towards the capital. He watched as this woman... this gorgeous woman... began shooting down Brotherhood targets with his weapons... and he felt strangely allured to her. The way she had completely emasculated him was a little bit sexy, though he felt himself immediately flinch when she reached for some of the chips.

"Y.. You're Talia Al'saif... you're pretty hot...." He took another handful of chips, "Do you have a boyfriend...?"

Before Talia could answer a Chiss man hopped into the Walker with them, and Fruwell just shot him an annoyed look "Dude... we were kinda having a moment... Can you not?"

 

[Sreeya]

Talia had already begun to fire when she heard the Imperial pilot abruptly open up with some rather odd dialogue. She decided to grab a few more handfuls of his chips to process his strange line of inquiry, “Er…. I don’t know if you’re my type, man.” To say that she was caught off guard was an understatement, but perhaps this meant she could get the fool to do what she wanted.

Talia quirked an eyebrow as the commander from earlier plopped into the cockpit, no doubt putting the poor Imperial pilot in an even more awkward situation. She paid little heed to the man, focusing her attention on clearing a path in front of her. Talia was all smiles as she felt the raw power of the walker unleash on Imperials. Each blast caused a vibration throughout the entire cockpit as it registered the recoil from firing such heavy canons. Talia heard the Chiss’ words, eliciting a laugh from her, “That’d be an insult. I was a Captain, if you recall. Captain Talia Al’Saif,” Talia tilted her head to wink at him before returning her gaze to the chaos ahead, “Don’t worry, boss, I’ll get out of your hair after this shitfest is over,” She nodded in response to the query about the Rotunda, “Aye, that’s where the fun is.”

She quickly popped a cigarra in between her lips, deciding that this was the one instance where she would be forgiven for smoking on the job. Talia was making progress towards the capital, her display pinpointing exactly where the Rotunda was. She could see dozens of ships descending in the distance before disappearing from line of sight. As she took a few more steps, a bolt struck against the body of the walker. The entire thing shook slightly as a few more hits blasted against the walker.

“Shit,” Talia groaned as warnings blared through her comms and an alarm system began to ring within the cockpit. As the smurf commander turned to point out that they had company, Talia nodded furiously, “Yes yes I know, Commander Obvious,” She targeted the ships circling by to take shots at her, blasting the canons as she locked onto them. Talia whooped as one of the ships caught on fire, spiraling down as it left behind a flaming trail. She focused fire on the ships coming in for attack, yelling into her comms, “Do your last ditch evac effort now! Ships are focusing on the walker now!”

They continued to take hits, each shot causing a massive rumble throughout the walker. Talia looked over to the Imperial pilot, “Damn, does this thing go any faster?! We'll all bite the dust if we keep taking fire like this!” She hoped fear would light a fire under the man’s ass while she focused again on shooting her attackers out of the sky. She could see the capital now, a few more sweeping steps all that remained.


@Soverin @Prudence @Kori Buor @MasterTyvokka

 

[Soverin]

(OOC: once again, posted at work, tidy later.)​

Talia Al'Saif, a name he himself had only heard in legend, it felt strange that coincidence had placed them both at the helm of this insane effort; a ghost of the Republic, and it's most recent echo. He wasn't given the luxury of thinking on it deeply, as starfighter bolts drummed the side of the walker and flooded the cockpit with blaring systemic alarms.

Rosh grit his teeth as he watched the capital rotunda suffer endless waves of fire, knowing that Skahl and his soldiers wouldn't last long against the onslaught. Battered boots dragged him across the cockpit into the chamber of the walker's body. Wind rushed in through wide holes punctured through the walker's structure, giving him clear view of the ships circling around to attack. He pulled out his blaster pistol, eyes locked on some other salivating object laying within the chamber. Mounted on the wall was a Sith model gatling laser cannon, along with various rifles and a huge squarish weapons case. Rosh trotted over, still wobbling from the walker's distressed steps, and fell over the case to access it.

A Sith fighter hawked the moving machine, swooping up and around before zipping down to unleash a payload of explosives upon them -- barreling in, the pilot grew ghost pale when Rosh returned to view, a heat-guided smart missile launcher propped up over one shoulder. Click, one finger pressed over the targeting trigger, locking onto the approaching fighter. Click, another pressed down on the firing trigger, expelling a plume of bright sparks before the missile went racing through the air, flying a short distance before cutting into the ship's hull and swallowing it into a fiery inferno.

Rosh was silent, preparing another rocket as the buzzards flew around their quickly deteriorating walker -- not if he could help it.

 

[Pam0wl]

Sigal ran with Irx to meet their Mirialan master amongst the rumble and ruins of the streets; though their dark aligned opponents now laid dead in defeat, more would likely to be drawn in by the growing mayhem and chaos. Agents of the brotherhood would quickly begin scouring the city for their light sided counterparts, gleefully eager to take part in the decadent indulgence of war and bloodshed. The pinprick sensation clawing its way up Sigal’s spin was like a lover’s caress from the looming spectre of Death. Even with the immediate threat halted, the Hapan could feel cracks beginning to splinter and deepen within her. She felt it briefly from Irx; there was even darkness within him and yet he fought for the Jedi name. Though she would never admit it openly, she always regarded the twi’lek as the most resilient between the two of them. She sensed his bubbling emotions being wrangled and tamed; yet Sigal’s were ravaging her from the inside, like a sickness.

That’s why Sigal shot the lethan twi’lek a look of absurdity; the terminal corrosion within her was winning.
“Protect the refugees? Are you mad?” She turned her gaze to the fallen and wounded not too far from their position. But there was no compassion or sympathy within her cold eyes. “We can barely protect ourselves. How can we possibly hope to defend them as well as get to safety?”

The fleeting remnants of the Hapan’s pride was waning. Now only the overriding instinct of self-preservation remained. It was stringent and uncompromising. It was not secret that fear drove her words, though there was also an underlining motive as well; hopelessness. Sigal truly dreaded the day would be lost and that the darkness in the galaxy would claim a coup in delighted perversion; the more that died, the more who suffered…it would only further sweeten their victory. Sigal would be damned if she was going to rot amongst one of the fallen. Though she knew her words would not be well received, she felt pressed to make the point known.

“We are outnumbered, ill bodied and, if we do not retreat from this location, out maneuverered as well!” She hated to admit it, but the daunting situation was quickly closing in on her. Death, suffering, pain. They were slowly worming their way into her heart, feasting on her usual steadfast nerve. Valen would probably recognise the insidious symptoms instantly; the loss of will to fight. It must have been ironic in a way. He had just reclaimed his warrior will only for Sigal’s to take flight. How easily a demoralised warrior could fall under the looming banner of defeat.

Sigal was falling. And she was falling fast.

The walls were closing in. She couldn’t see the light anymore or feel its guiding hand. There was only darkness; cold, consuming darkness. It was dragging her deeper into depths she could not escape. In the deepest pit of her stomach…she truly wished to flee. To lay down her saber and simply walk away. Not just form the war and conflict but from the Jedi as well. What had this path brought her? She had seen truly horrific atrocities, seemingly un- vanquishable evils and more. And yet again, it was all unfolding before her eyes. And she was powerless to stop it all.

“Master…” Her voice broke. She could not stand to look Valen in the eyes for fear the last remaining strand of composure would simply snap. “I am scared. I do not wish to die here.”

Even without looking at Valen, Sigal would picture him. The light radiating from him, rolling off in waves. Even Irx - though dark licked at his heels- somehow, he banished the beasts of corruption away. How? How could the force enrapture them and abandon her? Because they simply had a willing faith and thought selflessly for others sake, even when they could very well lose their lives? Sigal combed her hand through her hair viciously; her desperation to comprehend becoming more and more evident. And for what? Homeless voyagers, misbegotten foreign burdens and despondent refugees. Why? Why? Why? Why should she risk herself to protect them?

Because that is what a Jedi does. And she was a Jedi. She had fought for so long to come to terms with it and now it was time to prove it.
It bled away; the darkness slowly beginning to fade and recede from whatever source it spawned from. Renewed vigour flared within her. She didn't know if it was the silent words of her master, Valen or her comrade, Irx. But those words gave her gravity, pulling her back to their current situation. The crippling evil had lost its hold on her; on the rarest of occasions, Sigal welcomed and trusted the arriving light.

“But I suppose all we can do is trust in the force” The tension slowly eased from her expression; the affliction appearing to pass. Once more, she donned the practiced, if not slightly strained, smirk “And pray I leave a beautiful corpse. Which reminds me…” She promptly smacked Irx upside the head, ill concerned with his injuries, “Call me Siggy again and a broken nose will the least of your worries. You forget yourself, Irx. Even in battle, one must have certain expectations.”

Eyeing the twi'lek for a possible rebuttal, Sigal began to strategize, taking the situation apart as if it were but a mere puzzle, instead of a life threatening situation. “The enemy forces pushing to North and West side of the city. If we risk leading the refugees down the Southern exits of the city, we could be trapped and ambushed in a pincer if they manage to secure the East city side. But the enemy forces on that side are spattered and weak compared to the other fronts. We could send a collective call to other allies on secure frequencies and channel a concentrated effort to create a clear path”

When Valen received word of walker had been taken, a glimmer of hope added into Sigal’s mental equation. She angled her direction of speech to ensure the walker controller could hear through Valen's communicator. “We are not far from your location. The walker could clear the way; one of us defends the rear whilst the other two defend each side of the flanks. Friendly forces will flock to our advancing party and reinforce our defence. Walker SBV-W-8821, confirm? We are located East of your positon, roughly a mile away.” (@Soverin) Sigal began to wave refugees over to a more secure shelter until they caught sight of the walker. Even then, with her saber drawn, she gritted her teeth as she began to develop the plan further. One would think they could see the frantic cogs turning. “This would, however, make us a bigger target. I further suggest that once we have gained sufficient numbers, we divide into smaller groups and travel through the back streets leading out of the city. The enemy wouldn’t be able to mobilise large militant forces through the winding streets quick enough to gain ground. The only real threat would be running into more sith.” Her eyes glanced as the huddled, desperate refugees. “But at least it would keep civilian casualties low. The sith would be more interested in attacking us than the refugees.”

She hoped ...

She then bit her lip, looking at Valen and Irx with a tentative look. “My only other plan…” Her eyes glazed off, though she cantered her head to the side, trying to listen for a distinctive sound, “We assault and commandeer their military grade vehicles’ Perhaps another walker or trooper carrier. That way we can transport the refugees within the enemy’s sight and not raise suspicion. One of us could ready the refugees whilst the other two take control of the machine.”


The Hapan looked to her two companions. With a final, heavy sigh, Sigal hung her hands in waiting, as if to say - That’s all I got. Pick your poison.

@Valen Pelora @Irxirola Mishka

 

[Cainhurst Crow]

The vicar had planned on having a nice, honorable duel with the man she found out was the leader of the republics forces. A fight and chat, before she ended his life, or depending on his answers, simply let him go. She let the force guide her actions on matters such as this, and the force told her a very neutral response when it came to this mans fate, her own desire to fight not wanting to see it over too quickly either.

That was before she was opened fire upon by blasts from above, watching as her opponent fell away form her, but also as rubble began to fall from the sky. "No, We're not done here!!" She said, watching the man fall as her eyes widened in surprise, and in anger. Their fight had only just begun and already it was coming to a conclusion, not to mention how quickly it had ended with her former opponent Talia. "Come Back Here And Shed Your Blood!!!" She called out as the rubble came down from above, slamming into her as she stumbled back and clutched her head, hearing what sounded like a crack.

Grey stone crumbled from her face as the large spiderweb along the right side of her face grew into a fissure, and Iosefka reached up to grasp at her face, the pain already dulling as she heard a soft cracking noise. She felt something in her hand, moving to look at what it was and her eyes widening as she saw what she held in her grasp. From the look of it, it was a slightly curved piece of stone, however judging by its shape and the spiderweb pattern upon it, she realized with a sudden horror that what she held was a part of her, a piece that had literally cracked away. She turned it around, seeing jagged blackish red crystal like structure beneath as her hands shook, her saber dropping to the ground as she let out a scream.

Her cheek on the right side of her face had come off, and now it exposed black colored bones, and long solidified blood, making it look as if she were merely bones being kept together as a blackish mist drifted from her wound, the same sort of mist that had first enveloped her when she had partook in the ritual on Ziost, the sacrifice of a fellow sith for power. The price had seemed minimal at first, a mere darkening of her skin and a change of her eyes seemed like small prices to pay. But her body had been changed, slowly, but more and more as she used the dark side, and it was with a horrifying realization that she realized the true price of what she had done.

"This cannot be...I'm a sephi. I'm alive...I'm a living being. My place within the force is eternal. I belong within the force..." She said to herself as her hands shook, realizing that the cold sensation she had felt whenever she used the dark side wasn't going away anymore. It lingered within her, making her shiver, she felt as if her entire body were numb. Her entire body...there were cracks all along her grey skin, small ones where her body bent to accommodate movement. Did that mean...what was her skin made of anymore? What had become of her body. "I am one with the force, the force is with me...I am One With the Force, The Force is With ME!!!" she said, trying to put the piece of her face back onto its proper place and finding it simply no longer a part of her.

"Dammit!!!" She said as she threw away the piece, feeling the anger inside of herself and trying to keep the anger inside of herself, focusing on the burning feeling inside of herself as it was quickly being swallowed by the cold once more. She looked towards the battlefield and the walker in the distance, as she put her head in her hands and shook it, "....Why...why have you forsaken me like this? Why have you turned me into something else...something more..." She said to herself, shaking her head as she shook, feeling like she were freezing over as she tried to go her mind back under control, "I am a humble practitioner of the force...I cannot return to Thustria now...not when I look like this..."

The vicar, no, Iosefka, sat as she worked to try and not cry, feeling the tears fall as she looked up towards the destruction. She could feel it like a tremor through her spine, the destruction and loss of life echoing throughout the force as she looked down to her armored hands. "My family...how can I honor you anymore? I'm not one of you anymore...my lifes dream has vanished...for what purpose?" She asked as she looked towards the battlefield, in time to see the walker begin to get attacked from above by her fellow sith ships. "I'm sorry...Brother, Nephew, I am so sorry..." She said, watching the attacks unfold until suddenly the walker fired back, one of the large ships bursting into flames.

It sailed through the air, and the vicar was still on her knees as it came towards her. Her eyes widened in alarm as she stared in horror, the ship already having closed the distance by the time she had begun to rise back to her feet. Burning wreckage collided at her, and she felt its impact ripple throughout her body as well as the flames as she let out a wailing scream, one that was infused with both her voice and the force itself as the cracks spread throughout her body, shattering off huge chunks as the burning wreckage ground against the floor and stone, and pushed her towards the wall. It slammed into the wall, shattering the stairs as it plowed into it, and for the Vicar, introduced her to a new form of hell.

The vessel was still and burning before it began to move, slowly being pushed back inch by inch as a group of soliders came by to investigate. "What was that? Blasters at the ready, we don't know what's in that ship." The man said the vessel still shaking as suddenly, filling the air, was the sound of a ghastly wailing. The ship slide back as standing there, on fire, was what appeared to the troops as a monster. Black smoke billowed off of its body, exposed bone and cracked flesh mingled with red hot metal as the flames danced around her body. Stumbling forward, the being shambled as from its head, a large chunk of what looked like debris fell from its form, the shape of a face now chared black and cracked in many places falling to the ground, another chunk falling from the shoulders and back, as the apparent survivor tilted its head back and opened its skull like mouth, giving out a scream that shook the very ground and plunged everyone into a cold pit as the man barked out his orders.

"Open fire! All units open fire!!!" The man shouted, a second later finding himself falling down as a shadow stretched forth from the burning corpse, the flames starting to die out as their hot metal cooled rapidly, hardening up as the metal and flesh and rock molded together. Everything was pain, numb pain, and the Vicar walked forward with her vision clouded by black fog as the entire squadron collapsed to the ground, curled up and in pain as the life essence was sucked out of them and poured into her body, as the shambling Vicar walked forth and came down to the puddle on the ground.

She stared down, being able to see despite not seeing any eyes, looking down at her new vissage, and sinking back down t her knees. Her skull went into her hands, now permanent claws with the metal adhered to her flesh, and began to heave and shake, weeping tearlessly as she stood in the midst of the chaos, surrounded by death and the bombardments and destruction unfolding in front of her.

She stood there for a long time, before she finally, slowly, rose back to her feet. The shadows wrapped and coiled around her like a second skin, as she worked and focused on hiding herself, hiding from the entire worlds gaze. The illusion coiled until what was left was a hooded, shadowy being, the image of the Vicar she used for her missions. She stumbled forward, walking down the now desserted and burning dead street, as windows fogged over and fires died out as she passed by.

"I am one with the force...the force is with me..."

 

[Irxirola Mishka]

The rendezvous with their master went well..ish. Sigal's sense of self preservation matched Irx's desire to help others. It made sense. He felt he couldn't afford to have such strong feelings of self preservation. His selflessness, counteracted his viciousness. His inner darkness, his desire to destroy the Sith, no matter how well hidden, ironically brought the young Jedi closer to the Dark side. He could allow himself to believe that the ends justify the means, as long as he saved the lives of innocent people. He brushed off her comment about him being mad.

“We can barely protect ourselves. How can we possibly hope to defend them as well as get to safety?”

He looked over at Sigal. Despite his nose bleeding, and his exhaustion, he would fight, as viciously as he needed to, to save the innocent people here. "Speak for yourself. I can protect myself, these people, and you. If you so desire." Or die trying. He left the last part out, but the meaning wasn't lost on her. He reached forward with the Force, making contact with his Hapan friend's aura. She was hurting. Scared, even. Or so his interpretation of her feelings was such. Despite his lack of an emotional response, she was frantic to make her point known. He didn't blame her for her instincts. He never would.

“We are outnumbered, ill bodied and, if we do not retreat from this location, out maneuverered as well!”

As she spoke, he felt a massive shock wave of the Force, and turned to watch his Master destroy a Sith in spectacular fashion. He made a mental note to recognize the feat. Masters deserved praise too. However, the more pressing situation was with his Initiate friend, he projected his calmness towards her, while technically their Master's job, he would not let a member of their team suffer. "Siggy. Compose yourself." He said, his words were not heeded, she was a metaphorical wreck. Kriff. He cursed to himself. Despite appearances, and his apparent control over his emotions, he lacked any real, lasting, calm, or control. Lacking it himself, his attempt to comfort her obviously failed. As their master rejoined them, the Twi'lek Jedi greeted the Mirialan master with a wave. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Irx even has a souvenir.” The Initiate let a nervous laugh go. "Sometimes you just have to take a gauntlet to the face, Master." He said, briefly distracted from the emotional wreck that was his Initiate friend.

“We need to protect the refugee’s escape, they are target practice without us. We are their only hope but we can’t do it alone. We need reinforcements and we need a defensible position. I wish I didn’t have to ask this of you, I would give my life to see both of you safely of this planet but I need your help. We can only save their lives together. If you want to leave, escape Coruscant, I will never hold it against you but I am asking you to stay and be a Jedi.”

The mini-speech given by the Mirialan was well received, he nodded towards him. "Well..that's what I signed up for." He said, knowing full well that he had been given up to the Order by his parents and there was no real signing up so to speak. He attempted again to offer her solace in the temporary calm that was his storm, despite failing, earlier. He failed, again. Seems that's all I'm good for. Failing. He mocked himself.

“Master…I am scared. I do not wish to die here.” Not a statement directed towards him, his sense of failure was stronger now. He couldn't even comfort someone whose Force Aura he was the most familiar with, outside of Zek's Aura. However, he would never feel his old Master's Aura again, and banished thoughts of the Nautolan, and what he imagined would be disappointment in his apprentice, who failed at having any real handle on his emotions, just the ability to crush, bottle, and store for later.

Flipped like a switch, from means unknown to the Lethan, his Hapan friend found her resolve again, the Twi'lek had spaced out, thinking about his old master, gazing at the stone ground with a thousand yard stare. The stare aged the Twi'lek, he hardly looked the seventeen year old he was. A rap on the back of his head snapped him out of his brooding. “Call me Siggy again and a broken nose will the least of your worries. You forget yourself, Irx. Even in battle, one must have certain expectations.” He chuckled, rubbing the spot where she had smacked him. "Sure thing, Siggy." He said, and moved towards the refugees. He would debrief them on the situation, and leave the planning part to Sigal. Her intelligence rivaled his aptitude for combat. He, however, was not half the tactician that she was. Something he would have to learn.

He treated minor wounds, cuts, bruises, staunched bleeding a few times, using what little reserves of the Force he had. Everyone was ready to go, and the three Jedi would lead them to safety, no matter what happened, he was positive of it. He grouped up the refugees, and turned to see Sigal waving at them. "Let's go, everyone." He said, as the tattered and ragged group of ten moved towards her. She finished up describing her plans to the Knight and the teenage Lethan, and he felt completely out of his element. He admired her ability to compose plans, and tactically take apart a situation and put it together so that the plan saved as many lives as possible. He decided not to feed her ego, however.

"I don't like the idea of splitting up." He said, omitting the part about him not being able to fight for them. "I say we move towards the commandeered Walker. If we run into any Sith, then we can split up." Valen wasn't going to like his next suggestion, no matter how much sense it made. He could feel the almost paternal need to protect the two of them. However, this was war, and protection was not what they needed. "If we run into any more Sith on the mile trek from us to the Walker, it makes the most sense for one of us to break off and hold the Sith off. Master, you have comms with the ship, you and Sigal can protect the civilians, and I will..neutralize" he used the surgical, yet cold word which meant to kill here, intentionally, "the Sith. I will rally with you at the Walker, and we can continue our evacuation operations."

By offering his alteration to the initial plan suggested by the Mirialan's female Initiate, he gave him more options.

"Whatever we do, we need to do it fast. We aren't exactly rich in the time area."

@Valen Pelora @Esther Nyx @Soverin

 

[Valen Pelora]

The Force was alive with emotion. He felt Sigal in the throughs of despair, her confidence cracking. She was near her breaking point. Even as she pieced herself back together Valen was uncertain how much more Sigal could handle. Irx was her opposite. Sigal was pouring herself into the Force but he sensed nothing from Irx but cold determination. He knew the young Jedi was slamming his emotions deep down. It was more dangerous than Sigal’s outburst. He worried Irx’s hate of the Sith would finally grab hold of him and never let go.

He looked at the two young Jedi stand side by side, surrounded by a burning planet. They were so young. It was easy, too easy, for him to forget they were little more than children. The Jedi were asking so much of them, he was asking so much of them. He didn’t know what else to do. He could not do this without them.

They faced an impossible task but both had come so far in such little time. They had grown as Jedi, and as people. He was proud of them. Now, he was asking them to lay their lives on the line. He tried to think 10 years back to when he was their age, he couldn’t have done it. He prayed to the Force he could get them through this. Explosions sounded in the distance. He had to make a decision, they were running out of time. He looked right at Sigal.

“No one is going to die. Not me, not you, not Irx. Trust in us and trust in the Force. I promise you we will make it through this.” He shifted his focus to Irx. “If we run into any Sith before we reach that Walker I will give you my commlink and you will go on without me. You are my responsibility and the two of you are stronger together. We will only split up if we have no other choice.”

His eyes scanned the skyline, his mind scanned the Force. They were safe for the moment but it wouldn’t last. Every second they stayed here put them all at greater risk. They had to make for the Walker. He opened his commlink.

“Walker SBV-W-8821, we read you. We are making for your position, don’t get shot to pieces before we get there.” (@Soverin). He turned to face his two students and the refugees. “We are going to head for a Republic controlled Walker, it will provide us with cover to an evacuation point. Stay close, stay together and we will all make it. The Force is with us.” He turned to Sigal and Irx. “We need to get to the Walker as quickly as possible. Irx take the front, Sigal patrol the sides, I’ll bring up the rear. Keep your eyes peeled for any Sith assault vehicles, if we get the chance I intend to borrow one.”

He motioned for them all to move out. His mind was thrown wide, searching in the Force. He was looking for any small sign of danger. Any hint of a threat. The Lightside continued to burn through him, at the edges of his mind he could feel his body protesting but he shoved it aside. Not now. He would be tired when everyone was safe.

@Esther Nyx @Irxirola Mishka

 

[Uleni]

War.

At last.

At long last.

All that time spent meditating and praying and leashing his fury with patience. All those hours in the darkness, dreaming of the promised violence and the final push towards the end-goal of the Sith. Immortality. They were now at its throat. Eternity beckoned to the children of the dark, history moaning their name as the clash for the fate galaxy began. Finally. Finally. War.

Pelinaryon closed his eyes and opened himself to the writhing dark of the war-scarred world. Old whispers from below, far, far below the skin of the earth demanded he shed blood in the hallowed ground of the battlefields. He breathed in deep and held the scent inside. Blood. Human waste. The crackling aroma of laser upon flesh. Victory. This was the smell of victory. The frenzied wind, manipulated by the various explosions and discharges from the battle, whipped at his face. Alongside the comforting symphony of an ongoing genocide, Pelinaryon could hear the air shrieking, banshee-like, exulting the violence the Sith had unleashed. Pelinaryon let out a shriek of his own, augmented by his bloodlust, amplified by emotions only war could bring. He opened his arms wide and shouted litanies of gratitude to the Dark Side itself; he thanked it for finally giving them the benediction the Brotherhood had so sorely needed. Then he peered over the edge of the rooftop he currently stood on and smiled a butcher's smile. Below was a bridge that connected one inconsequential district to another. Wreckage dotted its surface, some used as cover by soldiers from both the Republic and the Brotherhood. The fire they exchanged was beautiful, an impossible dance of lights that promised death if it touched.

He jumped.



**


As befitting being one of the shadowy eyes and ears of the Sith, Pelinaryon's real identity does not exist in any databank in the Republic. Him being born Outside helped tremendously, as apart from his dark brothers in the Order, he literally did not have any family in the known Galaxy. He still wore a mask, however, and for this mask which was wrought in the likeness of animal-demons from various cultures, he has crafted a persona the Republic wretches can salivate over. Kharanûth Hellspear, the Liar, instigator of innumerable atrocities and suspected behind the assassination of several Republic powerplayers. War is in every Sith's blood. From the moment they drew their first breath to the last one that leaves their lips. It is the only truth of existence, and they simply MUST answer its shrill call. Pelinaryon considers refusing war to be the outmost heresy, and never in his entire life has he shied away from it. But even though he yearned to reveal his face to the enemy and dare them to come with all their strength and power, pragmatism wins with no argument; perhaps in the future he can afford to wear his true face, but not now.

Now, he must be the Hellspear.


Jubilant yet focused, he landed expertly behind the lines of his Brotherhood compatriots. One of the troopers, a sergeant by the looks of him, loosed a few shots at the enemy before wearily ambling over to him. Pelinaryon had a good idea what the following exchange would be.

"Devil Bee Squad, sir, from the Elesserian Legio-"

The Sith held up a hand. The sergeant immediately silenced himself. The gunfight continued. Even the lowliest of Pelinaryon's Order held rank over the common rabble that were NOT the Sacred Band, and this sergeant, seeing him, had assumed Pelinaryon was here to take command. He was not here to command. He was here to sharpen his claws upon the backs of the enemy.

"You may hold on to your authority, sergeant," Pelinaryon said, the maleficence of his voice snaking through his mask. The sergeant visibly cringed at the strangeness of his voice. "I am simply here to ... assist."

With an explosion of dark side energy, Pelinaryon charged the distance between him and the enemy, using his adroitness and expertise of Sokan to overcome obstacles and dodge a majority of the Republic's barrage. He could taste their shock and terror at his arrival. Beneath his growling mask, he bared his teeth in a vicious grin. His eyes flared wide in delight.

"Glory ever after to war," he said, slowing down and taking his time to mockingly bat aside what feeble attempts they made at shooting him. Pelinaryon was usually reserved and did not waste time. But today... Oh today was different.

This was not a battle.

This was a lesson.

He began butchering them with the fastidiousness of a priest handling mass. They did not stand a chance. At all. As could be expected from a gathering of weak willed anima-

A hum, a blue glint from above, a stentorian bellow and Pelinaryon cartwheeled away. Landed on his knees. Explosion. Shockwave blew dust; he held his forearm against the little storm. Something fell. From above.

Dust cleared.

Pelinaryon purred and readied himself in a low stance.

Not something, but someone.

The Jedi rose. Kel Dor. Large, muscular, big for his race. Robes in tatters, the armor beneath bloodied. Still serviceable. He had a blue blade clenched in one fist; opened up in the Djem-So stance. Pelinaryon saw several Sith sabers hanging from his belt; some still had fresh blood. This would be a worthy fight and an honorable addition to his Jedi tally.

They both charged at each other. First strike was the Kel Dor; spinning sweep at the neck, aimed to end the battle quick. Pelinaryon ducked low, knees bent, exploded upwards, aiming to skewer the Jedi from his throat to brains, throat to brains, throat to brains.
Quick lean back, impressive celerity, for a Kel Dor anyway, and Pelinaryon followed his attack with a vicious kick from mid-air. It connected. Hard.
Against the Jedi's face. Cracked one of his goggles. Superior balance and speed allowed Pelinaryon one more; this time he aimed for the throat. He loosed the kick, big mistake however. The Jedi anticipated it.
Brute strength fortified by the Force; he grabbed hold of the Sith's leg and smashed him, face first, on the unforgiving ground.

He bounced sickeningly.

Pain embraced him. Pelinaryon welcomed it. There is no pain where strength lies.

He rolled sideways, narrowly avoided the killing blow. He faced his enemy. The Kel Dor relentless, following him, slashing at him, not connecting with any of his strikes, Pelinaryon laughing as he dodged, skittering away like a spider on reverse.

Fussilade from the Sith soldiers, distracted the Kel Dor long enough to allow Pelinaryon a chance to stand. He stood and capitalized on the Jedi's exposed flank; quick thrust at the neck, instant kill.

A green saber batted it aside.

"Where did you come from," Pelinaryon laughed, exchanging quick strikes with the new arrival.

Padawan; obvious from her braid. Cathar. Young. On the cusp of womanhood. Fresh; no signs of weariness or wounds. The Keldorian had used Shien to deflect the trooper's barrage back at them; dead, from their silence. It was just him and these two Jedi now.

They attacked as one. Fear and hate coursed through Pelinaryon's veins as he let loose; all speed now, no more games, no more 'lessons.' Visible shock on the Padawan's face, composed resignation on her Master's; Pelinaryon, too quick, too fast, a whirlwind of technical aggression and unnatural vectors of attack, dictating an offensive pace that they, even combined, cannot sustain. The Kel Dor's Djem-So could not allow him a riposte; too busy defending. The Cathar, foolishly outmatched in celerity, yet trying in vain to match the Sith anyway. The Master was the first to fall; Pelinaryon skewered him straight in the eye, courtesy of Trakata opening him up good and proper for the killing blow.
Sudsy drool emerging from the Kel Dor's breather mask. Stood for a little while, before falling to the ground boneless and dead.
Surge of grief, shock, pain and anger from the Cathar. The dark held her now, fueling her Ataru sequences. Even enraged and blessed by the dark, she was still irredeemably slow. An overhead disarming parry, a back hand across her cheek and a strike to her gut had her kneeling and breathing heavily before the triumphant Sith. Pelinaryon raised his saber for the killing blo-

An explosion of sound, Pelinaryon closed his eyes and staggered away, the pain intense and mind-numbing, white flashes before his eyes like being punched but he was NOT being punched, blood dripping from his ears and he opened his eyes to see the Cathar screaming. Hatred in her eyes. The Dark in her eyes.
She Pushed him. With all of her might. His Barrier broke and he was sent howling and wailing over the bridge, and into the yawning district below...

-------------

Pelinaryon woke up.

The right side of his body was numb. The left side ached. He smelled blood. Lots of it. His own. He blinked; the light was weak here, but the explosions above still held dominion over the skies. It illuminated the clouds with beautiful destruction. He still had his mask on, that much he could tell. When he tried to sit up, pain erupted, red-keen, on a wound below his right armpit. Penetration. Debris. Deep. Paaaaaaaain.

Pelinaryon gritted his teeth and Sensed for his lightsaber. It was still with him thankfully, but the damage was done. Reigniting it would be a fool's endeavor; it would explode right in his hand. He called upon the memory of being bested, and the tear-stained face of the Padawan came into his mind's eye. So raw and unfocused. Childlike when compared to him. And yet here he was, a victim of her might. He let out a shriek. Out of rage and indignant hatred. It rang and echoed. The pain in his wound subsided a little. He held on to the memory of the Cathar's face, using it to nourish his vengeance, which in turn nourished his wound.

He stood up and steadied himself against a wall; he now realized that he had crashed through a damn apartment, roof and all. He searched the house for anything that might alleviate his pain; he found none, but he did wash and cover it with a towelette he had scavenged in the bathroom. He kicked down the apartment's door and found himself staring at a relatively intact district. The fighting was light here. But Pelinaryon let out a curse. This was still uncontested Republic territory. And wounded without a weapon was not something he would like to be in here.

He checked his mask. It was still somewhat serviceable. He then hid his lightsaber in the secret folds of his robes. With what little energy he had left, he Concealed his dark nature and began... Walking. Limping. Shambling like a common leper, towards the upper levels where his brethren could be found.

 

[Pam0wl]

Sigal's resolve was shaky, but steadily returning. She banished what lingering doubts plagued her and instead focused at the tasked at hand. She frowned at the deviation in her plan but for now it would suite. Taking up her position, Sigal directed and guided nearby refugees to move as they had agreed. Her eyes keenly scoured the skies and ground around them; she let the force drift out, acting as a sort of alarm for any dark forces beginning their descent on their position.

Every so often her eyes would glance over, being sure Irx and Valen were still in relative sight. She urged the fleeing refugees to pick up the pace and hurry; any who stumbled or lagged behind were encouraged and padded along.

In the distance, a glint of scope caught her eye. Their enemies had eyes on their movements, it would only be a matter of time before they had ground forces on their tail. "Keep your eyes peeled; there are scouts in the area!" Through the force, Sigal shoved nearby rumble and debris in the direction of the scouts, compromising and unsettling their position. She repeated this process twice more, breaking the line of communication and visuals the enemy were trying to establish; but in doing so, she knew they would only draw more attention from greater foes. Sigal began pushing the injured and ailing to the front, ensuring no one would be left behind with the pace, even if it meant sacrificing speed. She kept her eyes sharp, her mind open and her lightsaber ready.

A young twi'lek girl fell, seemingly unable to raise herself enough; Sigal could feel her exhaustion and fatigue already. Her small pink body couldn't seem to rouse, even with her mother's desperate prompting. The Hapan huffed, quickly collecting the girl in her arms whilst on the rapid move. She enraptured her hands with the force, infusing healing energy into the child's small body, just enough to keep her going and ease the pain ravaging her small frame. It was hard, focusing on healing the child and securing the sides of the mobilising masses. Sigal kept her sight constantly on the move, ensuring nothing escaped her gaze. They were running a gauntlet of fire; it was only a matter of time before they ran into the first volley. Irx was at the forefront of the group; she only hoped he would be able to spot any on coming threats. Her attention was stretched too thinly amongst the people; if there was a threat, Irx would have to face it first.

@Valen Pelora @Irxirola Mishka