Chaotic Carnage (Taris)

Ols

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The sky looked red. Fires burned across the cityscape, normally stretching in vast impressiveness as far as the eye could see. All Thorn could see now was chaos; carnage. Fires raged and smoke billowed from crevasses leading down to the lower city, joining with black gushing soot from once majestic towers high above. Water spurted from broken pipers, wreckage teetered and crumbled as tentative survivors tried to find sure footing back onto safe areas.

The scene before him was unbelievable, the young Dark Jedi had never seen such destruction with his own eyes. Yet in this instance it was not the war, or the force under the power of a great tyrant that had brought this to a region of Taris, but accident. It had been commercial station in orbit, used for a multitude of amenities, from repair and refitting of personal ships, to housing vast shopping centres, restaurants, bars and entertainment complexes, to one of the most novel and more expensive hotels 'on' Taris.

The warnings had come through only minutes before it happened, the city had no chance of evacuation. A malfunction in the stations systems had caused it to be manuevered out of its stable orbit and into a position where it had plummeted down to the planet. Engineers and pilots had done their best, but as the gargantuan station feel it had broken into pieces and now littered an area that must have been almost over ten kilometers in diameter. And yet the edges of that area were not safe, for the Tarisian Upper City for a further surrounding distance on all sides teetered, it's support struts shattered where the station had crashed.

Witnessing it had been terrifying and exhilerating. Cars and ships were knocked out of the sky by falling debris, and the entire city plunged into chaos. Which complicated things for Thorn. He was on Taris to take care of a mission for his masters, and now his target, and his ride off the planet was buried somehwere in the middle of the carnage. He sighed through the material mask that was pulled up to his eyes under his hood, part of his standard black dress, also including boots, trousers and a sleeveless leather jerkin. His lightsaber hung at his belt, and his arms were adorned only with black vambracer-type wristbands and fingerless gloves.

It was in situations like this that Thorn found himself in deep wonder at the galaxy. Yet he remembered his lessons at the temple. He had no idea now where to go or what to do to ensure his safety long enough to get off world, and his target was surely lost. So he simply decided to follow his first thoughts, his instincts taking him towards a creaking and groaning tower building, smoke rising from cracked windows and girders sounding as if they were going to give way. People screamed from the upper levels as fires crept towards them, trapping them. Innocent people. Victims of an accident, a horrible coincidence. Or if Thorn was feeling particularly pious, an act of the force.

He may have been a Dark Jedi, but that did not make him inherently evil. He had no hatred for these people. And nor was he instructed to look upon them with hatred. He did not even think twice, breaking into a jog, his footfalls light as he approached the building. He ran inside.
 

Malon

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Nom Lasek, bounty hunter for the Hutts, was on Taris during that fateful day. Flames were billowing from the city, skyscrapers had fallen, countless lives destroyed, and yet, the human bounty hunter felt nothing for them. He was not in the part of the city, that spanned the planet, that was hit by the massive orbital station, but upon hearing of the disaster, made his way to the area to survey the damage.

It was collateral. Even now, looking down at the city from his perch from one of the few untouched landing pads, he could still see the effects still in motion. The survivors were scrambling; desperately trying to find safety. Nom considered his options. Common sense told him to get offworld before anymore disasters occurred, but his sense of the hunt told him that he could turn this disaster into an opportunity. The remains of the massive station were still scatter around the city, not all pulverized by their impact with the ground. Smiling wickedly under his helmet, Nom decided to search the damage for any items of value that could be sold to the Hutts for credits.

His wicked smile grew ever larger when he realized that many Jedi and Dark Jedi came to Taris, and the carnage would only flush them out - granted they survived. Nom's favorite hunt was a hunt of Force-sensitives. Perhaps he could nab some for the bounty placed on their heads by the Hutts as well. Activating the jet pack attached to his armor, Nom lowered himself into the lower city, mask filtering out any smoke in the air. He'd just hit the jackpot in light of a large disaster.

"Time to go on a hunt..." he whispered cheerfully to himself as he descended.
 

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It had been terrible. He had watched the station fall from the sky, chunks of metal had fallen to the surface, bringing fire and death as they did. Hector had seen awful things, that had broken lesser men. But the scene before him, the shattered city with black smoke pouring out of gaping wounds in the skyline... set to the soundtrack of wails and screams from thousands of injured, dying people...

This was the worst thing Hector had ever witnessed.

Hector had come to Taris at the request of his friend on the Jedi Council, Huang, to follow up rumours of a criminal band, somehow linked to the recent revolution on Thustra. So, here he was, to witness what could only be described as a catastrophe.

The force had warned him, silently screaming to him about the massive danger. It had drawn his eyes upwards, to the skies. So he had headed upwards as well, to the nearest tower block, to do what he could.

He had used every ounce of his strength in the force to divert as much debris as he could away from the tower. With his robes flaring in the wind, he had wielded the force like a hammer. Invisible blows smashed aside flaming debris, the flaring power mirroring the dire situation. To an onlooker, Hector would blaze in the force like a sun his full power unleashed. It had taken a lot from him, but the worst had been kept at bay. The tower was now sagging slightly, and suffering from severe structural damage, but now there would be time to get it's inhabitants out. And they wouldn't all be corpses to boot.

The Jedi Master closed his eyes. He didn't normally go in for heroics, or protracted bouts of force use at his full potential, but there had been no choice today. Rather inelegantly, he had let himself fall to a sitting position, breathing heavily.

And he had stayed there, simply too exhausted to notice the appearance of a darker signature in the force, coming ever closer.
 

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Pandaemonium was the first word that came to Nol Tsviets' mind, for that's what Taris currently embodied. Chaos was everywhere. Carnage littered the streets, or what remained of them.

Nol Tsviets had traveled to Taris to meet a CARD agent. However, before he could meet the CARD agent, the tragedy happened. Nol hoped that the agent hadn't died.

Nol explored the city, hoping to find the CARD agent. As he passed a crunched speeder, the black-haired human found his driver, a Lamia pilot named Barrel for CARD.

"Where's the agent?" asked Barrel.

"I don't know," said Nol.

Nol felt a tingle. He was sensing something, a presence in the Force. It wasn't the death and pain from the tragedy that was screaming through the Force but another Force sensitive. What is Jedi? No, it seemed Bogan. Wait, there were more. Both Jedi and Bogan.

Nol groaned. This was going to get messier before it would get better.
 

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"****"

That was only the first of many curse words spewing out of Kira's mouth. For the first time in many years, the pirate was afraid. She had flown to Taris to partake in some spice dealings on the lower cities. It had taken her moments to 'borrow' an airspeeder to get around via the Taris skyline. She meant to arrive at the landing bay near a tower. After that, an elevator would take her down to her destination. However, for all her planning, she had not expected a disaster such as this. Her speeder had registered an incoming object, but it was far too late to respond. Within seconds, the vehicle was sent sailing through the air, spinning enough to make her nauseous.

The craft had slammed into the tower, wedged in and upside down. The fuel tank was leaking and Kira was stuck in her seat. She felt a sharp pain shoot through her leg, looking down to see a pointed piece of metal embedded in her calf. From her upside down position, there was little she could do. Kira glanced over to the side, watching as flames drew closer to the leaking fuel. One touch and the entire craft would explode. Kira slammed her fist on the dash, squirming and struggling to move, but the safety restraints of the speeder tangled around her body, holding her firmly in place. Kira glanced out the window to see chaos erupting everywhere, as her speeder was halfway inside the building. She had never been in such a precarious position, as a shift in weight would send the speeder plummeting to the depths below. The pirate had been crafty and clever for many years, always prevailing in any given situation. However, she knew that nothing could save her now. It was only a matter of time before the flames reached the dripping fuel. Kira cried out for help, but no one appeared to listen, all too worried about their own means of escape.
 

Thepantheon

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The sun fell from the sky. And it was made of metal.

Izraetus Cadamaer, Jedi Knight, was on Taris on seeking information on Force Light. Recently he had become obsessed with the power that had converted him to the Light Side. He did not wish to reverse his effects, but what he learned about it, and about what exactly had caused it to go somewhat awry in its practice on him, would have impacts on his perception of the Force. More and more philsophical lately, Izraetus felt that knowing about what had happened to him to make him feel incomplete was vital to his perception of himself. He'd heard rumors that sounded promising, though they could be false, and they had led him here. And then tragedy had struck.

Ablaze from the friction of their fall and other collisions, flaming pieces of metal struck everywhere. A collapsing skyscraper struck an airspeeder, and Izraetus, the passenger in that airspeeder, found himself plummeting downwards, the pilot having been crushed by a previous piece of metal. As the airspeeder fell, Izraetus produced a protection bubble using the Force, preventing himself from being crushed by the falling skyscraper. He did not dare risk leaving the falling speeder, however.

The sheer drop came to an abrupt end as the speeder crashed into a metal beam protruding from a building. Exiting the speeder quickly before it fell to the ground below, Izraetus looked about him. Most of the debris had struck above, so he was relatively safe there. However, looking around, he realized he was in the Undercity's highest levels, the Lower City just a few stories above him. This was not a good place to be. He began to slowly clamber up the damaged buildings, keeping an eye out for anything or anyone that might spot him from below.
 

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Battered and bruised, but still very much alive, Kalen pushed himself off the ground. Performing a quick check to see if he had any serious injuries, he began taking measure of his surroundings. He had been on the ground, on business for the Order, when the station had come crashing down. He had done what he could to help people evacuate, but there had been too much chaos to do much. He remembered having spotted a little girl looking out from a window high up in one of the smaller towers, having run towards the tower, but in his haste he had been knocked out by an incoming speeder bike.

The building was now in ruins, the upper floors almost completely crushed and crumbling and the rest in flames. There was a very small chance that anyone inside could have survived, but he reached out through the Force nonetheless, just in case someone had survived. Though he could not feel any life within the first few floors, he felt something near the base of the building. Making his way through the rubble and numerous wreckages, he finally reached the building to notice a small bistro some way of that he had missed earlier on. Rubble falling from the tower had flattened a part of the small building and the entrance had been crushed and blocked by a fallen pylon. It was within the bistro that he sensed a number of presences, trapped within. He quickly ran towards the bistro, he had to get those people out before more of the tower came crushing down on it.
 

Ols

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The tower lurched, the girders keeping it upright damaged and bent. And there were still people inside. Looking at it from where Thorn was, it did not look as peppered with debris as one would expect, as though several pieces of flak and falling spaceship had missed. But enough had hit it for it to be teetering as it was, ready to collapse, fires set across entire floors. Thorn did not really have the time (or authority) to make the decisions he was about to make. But he had to act. The girders seemed to have started to pivot around a third of the way up where a larger piece of debris, around the size of a personal speeder or car, had stuck into the side. By the looks of what was happening above, Thorn's decision was more or less negligible.

Even if he had a way to keep the building upright for the next ten hours, by the time any rescue ships arrived anybody above that pivot point would be dead from smoke, flames, collapsing ceilings and whatever else was going on inside. Their losses had to be cut if anyone was getting out of there. As he was running forwards he saw the kneeling man, spent and took in his clothing, his feel in the force. He skidded to a halt as the builging lurched once more and with an almighty thundering crash, a piece of part of the uppermost floors came tumbling down and landed right in front of him. He did not have long, the building was about to give and plummet downwards, killing any survivors inside and wiping out many in the immediate area, not to mention those within apartment blocks, restaurants, bistors and other such things around where Thorn was then.

"Hey!" he yelled over the background static noise that accompanied the chaos to the slumping man. He looked spent and tired. But Thorn needed him to give him time, "Hey! Jedi! Get up!" he pointed up, "See that building? It's coming down. There are people inside who we can get out. You need to keep that thing upright."

Thorn did not wait for an answer. If the man he assumed was a Jedi because of his dress and action was not able to help him, they were both dead when that building came down. He had not asked him a question. The situation was do or die. Literally.

As he galloped over the new debris before him into the main lobby of the building, he shouted over his shoulder, "Give me two minutes!"

The building had seconds, thirty if they were lucky, before it collapsed itself. That was not long enough, he needed at least a minute (which was why he had asked for two) to give the survivors a chance.

Hurtling inside, he did not even think twice of the danger of the lift shafts as he sped over to them and forced the doors open. He grabbed a cable attached to a lift that had apparently crashed down the shaft and was buried on whatever the lowest basement of the building was, a few stories below. Holding tightly onto the cable, he flicked on his lightsaber and cut the cable below where he held. The counterweight was far heavier than he was, and at breakneck speed he began hurtling upwards.

He could not hope to guess the correct floor he needed to be on for his plan, but his instincts were trustworthy. After only a few seconds of flying up he felt he was about a third of the way up the building and he let go, grabbing on to the opening of the doors at the side. Slamming the open door button on the side of the shaft, the door slid open and he rolled in, replacing his weapon on his belt, to survey the new scene that confronted him.

Far more dangerous than the lobby, even though that was smoky and felt as though it was about to fall in on itself at any moment, this was far worse. The floor seemed ready to collapse with one wrong foot, and the ceiling likewise, holes in either sporadically across the vast open plan office he was now in. Fire raged from above and below, patches of what were once desks, people and daily lives burning before his eyes, which watered as they were stung by the smoke. He could see the broken glass and brick where the debris had hit, and still stuck out of, the side of the building. And as the building lurched left to right, he struggled to balance on the floor, exemplified by however many meters he was up.

"Hello?!" he called out, not optomistically, but just in case he had stumbled on any potentially useful survivor. Though he wasted no time in waiting for an answer should none come, and he began to tentatively walk forwards into the hellish room.
 

Malon

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Nom finally touched down on a usable street. From what he could gather, he had come down to the lower part of the Upper City. There was pandemonium all around him. People of all races and species ran from the crumbling buildings out into the smoke-filled streets, and everything was burning. In his armor, Nom could feel himself perspiring from all of the heat that surrounded him, but it didn't bother him much. He'd been trained to endure such extremes.

His bearings established, Nom began to search what part of the streets he could for anything of value that might have been dropped from a screaming civilian or the station itself. Not too far ahead of him was a large chunk of the station, perhaps the command center, which was, for the most part, still intact. Nothing of value would be in the command center, so Nom ignored it altogether. Now he was frustrated. He didn't know where to look, and everywhere there was chaos. Pressing a button on his helmet, he opened up his comm channel and tuned into the HoloNet.

As expected, news of the Tarisian catastrophe was already being reported. He listened for a good while before a certain piece of information caught his interest. As he had expected when all of this began, Jedi and Dark Jedi were being sighted in the lower parts of the city. No doubt the public was going to need the Jedi's help. He let a wicked grin slip onto his mouth from beneath his mask. At last some good news.

Switching off his comm, Nom walked to the edge of one of the street panels, punched a button on his wrist, activating his personal stealth field, and then activated his jet pack once more; lowering him into the flaming city below.
 

Aluminum Falcon

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Lieutenant Denasi was planet-side when the station had struck the city. It had come down like a meteor destined to destroy life and society. Upon impact, the entire surrounding area shuddered. Minutes later smoke had filled the skies some distance from where Fyurin was staying. His natural reaction was to help, as soon and as fast as possible, but he would need help, and he would need a ride. Though he wasn’t too far from the crash site, he wouldn’t make it in time without transport.

He rushed from his hotel room, he had donned his Republic battle armor, not for combat, but so when he arrived on the scene he could deal with the intense smoke and heat. As always he had his pulse pistol at his side and after he grabbed his pack he was out the door, racing to the nearest security station. When he arrived the local security officers were in disarray. Many stood staring at holoscreens in awe, watching as their city crumbled. Others were on communicators, trying to ascertain locations of those trapped beneath and within the crash. He ran inside, desperate for answers.

“Have you sent out rescue teams yet!?”, yelled Fyurin.

Some of the officers looked up at him, but none of them answered. They had been in such shock that they had yet to get that far. Fyurin could see it in their faces, they were scared. Scared that their loved ones were in the area when the station hit, scared that they wouldn’t be able to help.

“You, you, and you are with me. We’re taking the shuttle on the roof and we’re going to do as much as we can. Send out distress signals to any nearby fleets in the area, Hutt or Republic.”, said Fyurin pointing at a few of the officers.

They raced to the top of the station, and boarded a medium sized shuttle that the security station used for prisoner transport and for air surveillance. One of the officers sat in the pilot’s seat, powered up the systems, and they streaked off, speeding towards the crash. As they neared, Fyurin watched out the front viewport as he held onto a nearby rail. He stood there and could see a large tower crumbling, teetering to either side, ready to fall. Half of the building was engulfed in flames, it would fall any minute.

“There! We’ll start there!”, yelled Fyurin to the pilot.

The pilot adjusted course. Fyurin just hoped they wouldn’t be too late.
 

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Kira was getting desperate. The tower protested, the support beams threatening to crumble under the weight. All she could hear were screams accompanied by the occasional crash of falling debris. The pirate was still upside down, attempting to tear away at the safety belt now wrapped up around her body. The very thing that was meant to protect her was now restraining her from escape. She looked down at the sharp piece of metal lodged in her leg, realizing that she had little choice. Kira reached down and yanked it out, resulting in a small gush of blood to trickle down her leg. Ignoring the pain, she used the sharp edge to begin cutting through the belt, though it proved to be useless so far.

"Hello?!"

It was like music to her ears. Kira dropped the metal, craning her neck to see. Smoke had begun flowing in through the craft, causing her to cough. Just the small cough alone resulted in an angry creak of protest as the speeder threatened to dislodge from the tower and fly straight down to her death. Kira shifted around as much as she could, hoping her voice would project enough for the man to hear.

"In here!! I'm stuck! Hurry!! This speeder's about to blow!"

She only hoped he would be able to arrive in time. Kira hated being at the mercy of anyone else, but she had also rarely been in such circumstances. The fire drew dangerously close, the rear lateral end of the speeder already catching on fire. She had mere seconds now.
 

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"Hey!"

Hector looked up, but didn't really see. He had pushed as hard as he could, and though only for a short while, the Jedi had to pay the price that such a mammoth task demanded.

"Hey! Jedi! Get up!"

He blinked, and the world swam into focus. Where before there was simply noise, now he heard the words; he remembered where he was. He may be weary, but there simply wasn't time right now.

"See that building? It's coming down. There are people inside who we can get out. You need to keep that thing upright."

He looked skywards, to the tower he had battled to protect. He had done well, considering the rain of plasteel that had battered the city, but ten of him couldn't have saved the tower completely. The man was right, it was dangerously close to collapse.

"Give me two minutes!"

Hector pushed himself to his feet, his muscles aching and his vision swimming. He was tired, and in pain. But he was a Jedi Master, renowned throughout the order for being a true master of the force; a Force Warrior, without equal.

Mostly to himself, the man having quickly disappeared into the building, he spoke quietly, determination surging within him.

"I can give you ten."

His eyes closed, the world before him disappearing briefly into darkness, swiftly replaced with the world through the eyes of the force. He focussed, and the tower filled his vision. It loomed above him, fire eating away at the towers supports, threatening to bring it down. He gathered his strength, clenching his fists.

With a shout, he threw his fists outwards, accompanied by a massive wave of the force. Spreading out to engulf the whole tower, it flashed upwards and outwards, and slammed into the tower.

Engulfing the structure, the massive wave grew ever tighter, until it held the tower in perfectly in place; keeping it stable, and preventing it from moving at all. Almost instantly, the herculean effort began to take its toll; sweat broke out on his brow, his muscles tense and his mind grew focussed utterly on keeping his barrier in place.

He couldn't keep it up forever, and would pay dearly when he stopped, but until then, he would fight with every inch of his being to save lives. It was simply the Jedi way.
 

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Nom spotted the building collapsing only to suddenly jerk to a halt as if held by some invisible giant hand. The bounty hunter knew full well that this was the sign of a Jedi at work. His first target. Touching down on the street panel, he deactivated his stealth generator and unstrapped the hunting blaster rife that was strapped around his torso.

He brought the scope of the weapon to his helmet's viewport and placed the Jedi's head in his crosshairs. No doubt the Jedi would sense the danger, but his reaction time is what would count. He brought his index finger around the trigger and pulled. A loud firing sound filled the area, but was drowned out by the roaring flames and screaming civilians as a red blaster bolt flew directly for the Jedi's head.

The Hutts would pay big for this.
 

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As Nol and Barrel explored the carnage for the CARD operative, they were suddenly stopped by an invisible force.

Jedi, guessed Nol.

Nol spotted the bounty hunter aiming a rifle at the Jedi keeping the tower from collapsing. He used all his might to push on the rifle, dislodging its trajectory and hopefully missing the Jedi.

"Find a better time to go hunting," suggested Nol, reaching for his lightsaber just in case. He grinned. "Can't you see that if he dies now, the force of the tower's collapse might kill us too. Wait until you're further away."
 

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Nom pulled his vibrodagger from its sheath on his utility belt, holding it in a reverse hand grip, "I've fought your kind before. Don't think I won't again. If you know what's good for you, stay away and don't interfere with my hunt again." he snarled.

In his other hand, he tightened his grip on his blaster rifle. If the newcomer decided to attack, he'd shoot him dead faster than he could draw his lightsaber.
 
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Ols

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((Guys, one post each per round, otherwise the thread ends up just being about two people who've gone off and posted and everyone else gets left behind. Sid and pantheon are up next, then it's back round to me.))
 

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Leaving the lowest levels behind after commandeering an airspeeder whose owner appeared to be the dead human beside it, with a chunk of metal through his chest, Izraetus found himself in a region clearly still being affected by the disaster. Fires raged around him, though none were too close, and several pillagers raced by, rare items in their hands.

Turning to waylay the thieves, Izraetus caught sight of a building close to collapsing, several blocks away. He was astonished more, however, by the man next to it, clearly a Jedi of some power, holding it up using the Force without any others to aid him. Izraetus could only blink. He had thought to stop some thieves, but this man was saving an entire building, at least to the best of his ability.

Then Izraetus saw the bounty hunter. Blaster in hand, the hunter seemed to be threatening another man at the same time as he prepared to attack the Jedi. Izraetus completely forgot the thieves, and the notion he had had to aid the other Jedi in holding up the building was replaced entirely by a new thought. Activating his lightsaber, he approached the hunter from behind, hoping to incapacitate and hold him.
 

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After ten to fifteen minutes of slashing, lifting and controlled telekinetic blasts, Kalen had succeeded in creating an opening into the bistro. Within minutes he had managed to get six patrons and employees out of the bistro, two others though he was unable to save as they had been in the now crushed section of the bistro and had most probably died instantly.

Just as the last person stepped out through the hole in the side wall, Kalen felt a strong pulse in the Force, someone was exerting themselves in the Force nearby. With everyone in the bistro safe, he moved on towards the other side of the tower and noticed an even bigger tower in even worse condition than the one next to which he stood. A number of beings were congregating there now, some powerful in the Force from the feel of it. He noticed a lone man whom he identified to have been the source of the Force pulse he had felt. He realized that he was trying, and from the looks of it succeeding, in preventing the tower from collapsing.

Immediately he began running towards the tower, intending to try and help him if possible.
 

Ols

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Thorn did not have long if he wanted to escape alive, let alone complete his plan. Striding forwards in the room he saw what he was there for. In the corner of room was one of the main spindly, but strong supports that kept the building upright. Bending and threatening to crack at every level, Thorn's plan was simple, if he could cut the support on his side of the building, that should create enough force to ensure that the tower, rather than toppling the way it had been threatening to, would instead buckle at this point. The bottom third or so of the building should be stable enough to be evacuated by whatever Tarisian rescue services were arriving on the scene; the top two thirds, instead of crushing countless survivors in the wreckage of the upper city, and risking another crevice through the surface, compromising the safety of the region even more so, would simply fall back into the gigantic crevice that a large part of the station had made and fall down into the depths where surely few would have survived. Theoretically.

But even as it was, he did not have time to run across either side of the room to cut the supports. And then things got complicated.

"In here!! I'm stuck! Hurry!! This speeder's about to blow!"

A girl was trapped in the speeder, sticking half out the side of the building. But perhaps the fact it was about to explode in seconds could help his plan. He could work with this. Flicking his lightsaber on he threw it as hard as he could, his aim true, at the support furthest from the voice. As it flew through the air, horizontally end over end in a menacing red light, he leapt forwards, propelled by the force and landed clumsily a couple of meters before the edge of the building, where the speeder was. Standing up and stepping forwards as he heard the floor creak dangerously he took a step closer to the edge.

Squinting through the smoke at his blade, he saw it connect with the girder. Still guiding it, his hand raised, he called it back to his hand, flowing end over end. It had not severed through the support entirely, but that would not be necessary to ensure it buckled, given the added force of the exploding speeder, he just needed his blade to have cut a decent portion of the way through, which he was sure he had.

He was doing well for time, maybe three seconds tops from the girls plea for help and him now catching the hilt of his lightsaber and bringing it around in one smooth motion to sever through the safety belt that was trapping the girl. He flicked off his lightsaber in his right hand and clipped it to his belt, as she fell from the seat into his outstretched left arm. He did not try to catch her outright, but eased the pressure from her fall and gently guided her to stand next to him. Well, gently-ish, she still landed with enough force to see the creaking floor in front of them, where Thorn had landed seconds before, give way to the floor below. Well, they were not getting across to the lifts now. Time to improvise.

Our of the corner of his eye he noticed the dark red stains on her lower leg, and that she favoured the other. Hopefully her injury was not too serious, Thorn had little intention of carrying her out. But he could help her out of the way of the explosion.

Without saying a word, his left arm still supporting her from where he had guided her down from the speeder, he tightened his left handed grip around her, grabbing a handful of whatever she was wearing on her upper body, holding on to the side of her torso under her left arm. His grip was vice-like, it would pinch her skin and hurt. But that did not matter, if he did not grab her, he was leaving her there.

Without giving her more than a moment to protest, he bent his knees and leapt forwards into the hole to the floor below, taking her with him. They fell maybe two meters down, and he did his best to absorb the landing, but it was still heavy enough to cause the floor they landed on to buckle and slant ominously towards a hole to the floor below. Still taking the girl with him, Thorn positioned himself to use what remaining momentum they had to aim for that hole and get another floor down. The more distance between them and that speeder the better.

They slid through the gap, Thorn trying his best not to become a tangle of arms and legs with the girl, and to land as softly as possible. He hoped the floor of their second landing would be enough to support them. And then, with a deafening boom, and a visible fireball above them, the speeder exploded.

* * *​

The explosion about a third of the way up shakes the entire building. It teeters and sways. Whatever was being done to keep the entire structure up is futile, the upper part of the building is lost. Around the pivot point that Thorn has constructed, the building comes apart in two, the upper half or so breaking off and falling back the way the Dark Jedi hopes, toppling towards the deep flaming crevice down to the lower city. Clipping the edges and causing the ground to shake, it plummets below, out of sight. Thorn breathes a sigh of relief.
 

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Kira's voice grew hoarse from the screaming. She knew no one was coming. She would die here. Of all the ways to die, it had to be from being stuck in a god damned speeder wedged into a tower. It was almost as pathetic as Steve Irwin dying from a freaking stingray of all things. The pirate growled and slammed her fist on the dash, causing a small pouch of powdery substance to fall on her lap. Kira snatched it up and sniffed the powder.

"..Well, I'll be damned.."

A grin appeared on her face. Deathstick. What better way to go than to be completely happy during it? Kira wasted no time in tearing open the packet and carefully positioning the powder for inhalation. At this point, she was completely unaware of the danger surrounding her. She had accepted her fate. Kira would leave this world as a pirate, drugged and...damn! If only there were some rum on the ship too..

Kira immediately snorted the powder, her upside down position causing even more of it to travel into her system. She emptied the entire bag, resulting in her eyes and nose watering profusely. At this rate she almost expected to have a nosebleed. Kira closed her eyes and eased back in her seat, letting fate do the rest.

Of course, fate had other plans for her. Kira felt intense heat right up at her face. She waved her hand towards it, believing it to be an illusion. Kira rubbed her eyes and saw that it was one of the shiny sword things. Wait, what? She simply stared dumbly for a moment. She couldn't remember the last time hallucinogens kicked in that fast.

"Wow this is some good shit.."

A second later, she tumbled to the roof of the speeder. Kira groaned in pain, but only had seconds to do so before she was bodily yanked out of the vehicle. It took her a moment to register what was happening. Being under the influence of drugs convoluted her thoughts. Kira glanced around her, seeing and smelling nothing but smoke and fire. She looked over to her savior and he was definitely no fireman. But then he had that glowy sword thingy..a lightsaber! That meant he was one of those people! He must have been a Jedi if he were saving her. In that case, he could probably heal-

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

Kira clung onto the man for dear life as she felt them drop abruptly. She had no idea what was going on or what this insane man's plan was, but she at least hoped he wasn't crazy enough to get himself killed. Perhaps holding onto him would mean she would live as well. Kira grimaced as the landing caused a jolt of pain to shoot through her injured leg. The pirate turned to the man, scowling.

"What the hell-"

Another drop. Kira screamed again, caught off guard as he slipped through the gap. By now, her fingernails were digging into his skin, her mind terrified of the repercussions if she let him go. Or perhaps that was the paranoid result of the death stick. Kira exhaled for the first time as they landed. She made sure he had no plans to make them fly around anymore before she finally let him go, realizing how furiously she had been clutching onto him. Kira looked up, wincing at the noise that threatened to tear her eardrums. The sight was eerily mesmerizing in a way, unlike anything she had ever seen. The pirate felt the earth trembling below them. She used a nearby wall to support herself, her leg bleeding freely now, though she was oblivious to it. All Kira could do was gape at the chaos above, unable to process everything that happened in a matter of seconds. She had fully expected to die today. It took her a moment to realize she was visibly shaking.
 
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