[Legend of Sacul] Incoming Storm

Black Noise

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Laine heard their conversation, Laine heard the train hiss and sputter to life before reaching out with the Force towards it. She guided herself in her mind's eyes, moving into the train engine. 'Seeing' that is was outfitted with more galactic technology gave Laine cause to smile, she knew which lever controlled the breaks then. In absolute silence, Laine's masked presence reached out and subtly broke the mechanism that controlled the breaks on the console, broke the mechanism that controlled the train's speed(which would force it to accelerate wildly), and simultaneously, she created a crack in the inner mechanisms of the manual break, so if or when it was pulled, it would snap.

She did this with relative ease, as inside, the Force raged and gave her strength. Once it was done, Laine began attempting to calm herself, focusing upon the words of Della. Every word from Geist ignited fire within her, fire that screamed against what he said. Laine knew she was not a spy, she couldn't be, after all, wouldn't she-
Wouldn't she remember that?

Laine's heart caught in her chest. She did not remember attempting to assassinate anyone, she did not remember killing the one called Atreia, she did not even remember the name of Darth Exilis, who Geist claimed was her father and Della did not deny. Tears of anger welled up in her eyes, yet she resisted the urge to cry and instead refocused on calming herself. If she was calm, she would not expose her cloaked being, but if she angered too much she might accidentally drop it. Della needed to get Geist onto that train, once there, Geist would die, and Della would easily avoid the crash when it went out of control.

She needed to wait, it was almost time to reveal herself.
 

Fyston

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16 stood fairly idle while Geist took care of his business. This was Geist's affair, and what happened to the Jedi mattered not to the monstrosity. Whether she died, whether Geist took her captive, it wasn't his business. If Geist wanted the Sithspawn to break the woman, 16 would oblige. If she was to be eaten afterwards, he would indulge him. However, until Geist specifically called on him, 16 had nothing to do with it.

Until the Jedi decided to test her luck. The wave of light passed over his featureless face, his Force Sight seeing the pure light but not suffering the negative effects of being blinded. Unfortunately, he did not anticipate the Ashla energy that she knowingly or unknowingly gave off. It caused his stomach to roll in his abdomen, seemingly jump up to his throat, and then sink to his feet all in the span of half a second. He felt dizzy and suddenly weak, though not so much that it was completely incapacitating. No, it would take more than that to take him completely out of the fight...

And apparently the woman thought that kicking his shin would take him out. He felt the pain shoot through his body and remembered the torture sessions he went under while he was being "created." For the smallest microsecond, he was back in the lab of his birth, being tortured to become the ultimate Jedi-Killer. To be resistant to pain. To be the best.

The thought angered him. It enraged him. He felt his body snap back to focus, felt his anger power him. He was furious, his aura shining brighter than a star in the room, the pure hatred and seething anger stabbing at everything around him. Before she could take so much as two steps, the Sithspawn had stabilized himself with one of his open tentacles and, with the other, lashed out for the woman.

He connected just as she lifted her foot up for her third step, grabbing her grounded foot and whipping her around easily with his powerful tentacles just before slinging her as hard as he could towards the train, hoping that her skull would slam into the metal and cause an instant death. However, she flew through the train and he heard the sounds of her impact, along with a sickening *snap.*

Let that be a lesson to you, schutta. If you do that again, Geist or no Geist, I will eat your entrails in front of your family and force them to watch before I eat them, as well.
 

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The flight was long and, for Daiyu, relatively uneventful. Finding the downed ship would be easy enough; one of the sensor packs he'd brought with him was configured to scan for common fusion and hypermatter-based power sources. It had located one large signature, which he dismissed as Geist's crashed vessel, but the smaller one he pegged as Laine's craft.

He was grateful to find that the skies were clear. Occasionally he ran into another aircraft, which prompted all manner of uncomfortable questions - he had extensively modified his plane and stripped its markings. It was unusually fast and agile for a Snamreg craft, able to outclimb and outturn just about anything that got on its tail. So far he'd been fortunate. Only one craft he'd shared airspace with had dared venture close enough to take a look, and a quick warning burst from his craft's six chin-mounted guns sent him scurrying. Mounted in two 'plates' of three guns, one on either side of the craft's chin, the six .50-caliber guns provided the aircraft with tremendous firepower for its size. It also likely made it the most heavily armed plane in the skies - insofar as Daiyu knew, no military on Sacul had thought to arm aircraft.

Yet.

The feline made a high pass over the field in which Laine's craft was settled, his helmet's HUD zooming in to provide fine details of the open field. There was a road not far off, but on a whole it was rough terrain and it'd be difficult to land. <"I'll have to set down in a field,"> he muttered, his tone one of mild annoyance. He shed several hundred meters of altitude, bringing the twin-engine craft down to a measly hundred meters height. He banked and made a lazy circle at high speed, and was displeased to find a host of military-esque trucks and cars arrayed around the crash site.

I don't like how this looks, he sent, the feline's mental barriers dropping as he reached out to 'speak' to Fyston. There's a parachute under your seat. I'll get some altitude - bail and check those guys out on foot. If they're hostile, I'll try to send them running with the plane.

As he 'spoke', the craft climbed back into the air, trading speed for altitude. It was some four or five hundred meters up in relatively short order, keeping the plane well out of shooting distance for the chaps on the ground should they prove to be hostile.
 

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Geist was surprised by Della confessing to knowledge of the facts towards Lain. It appeared that the relationship was stronger than he had anticipated. If that was the case, it was possible Laine wasn't dead or incapacitated, by working with Della on her own free will. He cursed himself for not inquiring if her memories of her friends had been cleansed, which apparently Mira Albion hadn't done as good of a job to bleach.

While processing this disturbing information that not even Eber or Reichtum had alluded to, Della managed to pry at an opening. She radiated a blinding light that caught him off guard. Eyes in pain, his concentration broke, and the invisible chains shattered. It took a moment for him to transfer his senses from his sight to his vision through the Force. Della taunted him, obviously vexed. While attempting to flee, she assaulted 16. That was her undoing. Before she could even reach Geist, the Sithspawn roped Della's foot and slammed her into the train. He could hear the injury that caused.

"I would advise you listen, Della Frey," warned Geist. "Not even I can stop him when he gets hungry." The alchemist took a few steps forward closer to Della. In a way, it was psychological taunting. It was to show her that he did not fear her. "Where is my Order? All around us. You see, order is unstable, easily ravaged by chaos. Thus, I see is true order. A lasting order. Such a thing is difficult to do in an everchanging galaxy. You want the truth? Sacul is my laboratory. While you say Sacul has peace, that is because it is isolated. The niches are built into its structure, dismissing war. However, the outside is not that way. Thus, what I can't do out there, I can do here. I can introduce variables that promote chaos in the galaxy and see what can be done to ease its destructive ways. Sacul shall become the cipher to promoting true order. Already conditions are being executed to promote different types of governmental bodies on this planet. I shall see how they interact, and which can reign supreme, if it can keep order."

Geist hoped onto the train by the door. He used telekinesis once again to carry her into the train. A flash wouldn't work this time, now that his vision was through the Force. "It is a shame that many people die. Sometimes losses are required for progress, or at least its pursuit. And I'll tell you this. Most of the deaths were orchestrated by my two associates Eber and Reichtum. You see, I don't see the point of wasting potential. Maybe that's why Arn was successful in persuading me not to kill you. Fear not, you shall not die here. In fact, I shall provide you a front row seat to the events that shall develop on your isolated homeworld."
 

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I never realized it was this cold, even at such a low altitude, thought the Knight as he reached into his belt, pulling out a small pair of gloves and slipping them on his reddened hands. It was shortly after his hands warmed back up that he felt Daiyu descend and, wanting to see what was up, glanced over the side of the craft. He noticed the numerous trucks and clutched his rifle in preparation. Something, in the back of his mind, knew what would need to be done. It knew.

Of course, that's when Daiyu suggested that Fy jump out. I knew it, he thought to himself. He hated heights and, while they weren't a fear due to his training and his ability to steel himself, he knew that he'd always dislike them. Thus, the Knight slipped the parachute onto his back and hooked up the harness, securing it with a few tugs. He used the strap from his KI-11 to secure the rifle to his waist, taking hold of it with his left hand. With his right, he popped open a pouch right above his right shoulder. It was one of the things he had managed to save from the wreckage of the crashed shuttle that he initially emerged from: an emergency flare. Right now, it's use as a distraction was of more importance than saving it for when, or if, they were rescued. Plus, he'd counted quite a few more between what he gathered in his escape, Della's bags, and Daiyu's stock.

Making sure everything was secure, the Knight stood up, using his elbow to brace himself against the wing. The last time I did this, I had 100 pounds of gear between my legs. The lack of that should make this easier, the Knight joked right before he shifted his weight, allowing his form to fall flatly off of the side of the airplane. It was at this point that calculations began running through the Knight's head. He knew he was between 500 and 600 meters high, which was the only difference from his last HALO jump. That and this was in unknown territory with little to no cover.

When the Knight reached about 250 meters above the ground, he grabbed the parachute's ripcord and tugged as hard as he could on it. Instantly, his body began decelerating, though the jolt reignited some of the old pain in his ribs. It was nothing permanent and it certainly wasn't broken, but his ribs seemed to hate him. With his right hand, he activated the powerful emergency flare and tossed it as far as he could before it began heating up to its maximum potential. With the Force, he pushed it further, causing it to fly to the other side of the gaggle of trucks and people. Hopefully, it would be a good distraction as the light and noise given off by the flare fell to the ground below.

As he approached the ground, however, he noticed a ditch that ran along the side of the road, one that looked deep enough to use as cover, an estimation based on the fact that a truck had crashed into the ditch. While he wouldn't land in the ditch, it wouldn't be that far from his estimated landing zone, which was far enough away so that he could have some time to gather himself but close enough so that they would be in range. He also used the strap attached to his rifle and waist to pull his rifle towards him, making sure there was a round in the chamber before making his final adjustments to his course.

When he was about 15 feet from the ground, Fyston flared his parachute and steadied himself. Despite the parachute drastically slowing him down and the flare reducing his speed to low levels, Fyston still utilized the landing fall that he had been taught, distributing the stress of landing with his entire body. As he finished, he dropped the backpack that the parachute had been in and, unbuckling the strap that held the weapon to his body, shouldered the weapon and half-ran into the nearby ditch. He stretched out with his mind, keeping his mental defenses up while doing so, to survey the situation. He felt the tinge of the Dark Side but also felt the confused minds of those who were unaware what had just happened. They felt weak-spirited, as if their leader was draining their very will from them.

Stepping out of the trench, the Knight called out mentally, making sure to keep his weapon raised. Greetings, my Snamreg friends. That ship is now mine. Why? Because you don't want to fight and because that airplane that you saw is capable of ripping your entire force to shreds without a care in the world. So, here's how it's going to go. You're all going to throw your weapons in the middle of the road and you're going to get in your trucks and go home. I truly do come in peace, but if you hesitate, if you so much as think of screwing with me, I'll kill you. Please, take this opportunity to go back home. If not, you'll find that there is no worse enemy than one who has nothing to lose.
 

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Della did not have to react until she felt the impact of hitting the train and her leg making a sicking cracking sound. She screamed in pain, writhing in pain from her injury. She barely had to her wits about her to make sense of what Geist was explaining to her and she was dragged further into the train.

Through the dizziness of her pain, she saw ornate wooden panels and dim lighting. She attempted to scoot away from Geist, her leg unable to have any weight on it. She was in pain, it was clear. It rendered her unable to run, she was trapped.

"I don't understand, why is your Order the only correct one? If order is always changing, can it really be ever lasting? We had peace because we became unified against death. We have a common goal. Or had one, until you came. Why couldn't you have just let us be?"

Her heart pounded. She remembered the times others spoke of her potential.

"You were a subject of marvelous potential"

"I don't think you even know your own potential."

"you have potential, my apprentice."


" I didn't want potential. I never wanted to be a being of power, or a knight defending the galaxy. Geist, all I ever wanted from life, was to be an athlete. Before you, I only desired to live a comfortable life. I wanted a family of my own to raise. I still want a family. When I couldn't find Sacul, I became content with the idea that I could go the rest of my life without ever seeing home again, because I could one day be a good mother and a good wife."

Tears streaked down her face. Fear was in her. It was rising. Della's pain shot through her leg, and it caused sparks of electricity to erupt from her fingertips.

"Was that too much for me to ask for? Was to remain alone too much for my people?"
 

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The trucks were still moving, though a bit slowly, when the organized chaos began. The sight of the plane began the first domino of stupidity that sent off many more. The lead truck driver, seeing the plane flying overhead, reached his head out the window to get a better look and was rewarded with a swift crash into the ditch. Eber, sensing both the plane, its occupants, and the crashed truck, screamed for a halt. It was heeded, after the second truck in the line fender bent the first.

Eber slapped a hand to his face as the line of vehicles ceased to move and the Snamreg began filing out, weapons in hand. Glancing out his window, he 'watched' with the Force and his own eyes as one of the beings, likely the Jedi as this one felt exceptionally strong in the Force, leap out, fall, and deploy a parachute. The landing, along with the telepathic message that did not reach his mental ears, sent ripples of speech through the Snamreg as they stared blankly at the man wielding a blue lasersword.

"<Wait, is this guy a wizard?>"
"<Since when did we get more wizards?>"
"<How many wizards are there?>"
"<Does Eber know about this wizard?>"
"<I don't think so. He seems to be threatening us and Eber.>"
"<What is he talking about? Guns can't be mounted on planes.>"

Eber screamed at the Snamreg in their own language, sending his men scrambling. Weapons began to be raised, but not fired, as Eber Force Leapt over to where the Jedi stood in the ditch. His first attack coming straight off his leap, aiming to smash the Jedi down and cut him vertically down the middle. While Eber was not the most intelligent being, he was an apt fighter, and as he leapt he kept up his mental and physical defenses so that, should this Jedi react in a manner inconsistent with a traditional block, Eber would be prepared for it. He hadn't battled another Force user, outside of Reichtum, in years. Yet he doubted this man could be much better than himself.

While Eber engaged Fyston, the Snamreg would begin responding and moving towards positions of cover. Most went near and inside of the trucks, a few took refuge inside of the open space vessel, though they dared not go very far inside. While they did not believe the man when he spoke of the plane above being mounted with weapons, they took no chances. After all, these were wizards they were dealing with, not Snamreg.

Whispering to a friend, one Snamreg could barely be heard questioning.
"<What if WE are the wizards?>"
After a moment's thought, a nearby companion remarked.
"<...Don't be stupid.>"
 
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Jiang Winters

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Daiyu pulled away as Fyston sank towards the ground. The engines roared as the craft zipped off, following the road to carry the craft well out of range of rifle or machine-gun fire. He reached out in the force to keep track of his human ally; that watchfulness proved a good thing, for he perceived a flash of anger from the ground. Not Fyston, someone else. Another force-user. "Bas'feh! Des'maroth," he swore - a Daemon was present, someone corrupted by the Dark Side. The feline's armored digits tightened around his controls as he dropped altitude and came around. A kilometer separated him from the trucks. A single kilometer of open field and road, with those trucks laid out as if on parade.

<"You're making this easy,"> he muttered glumly. The feline's thumb nudged up the safety latch on his flight yoke and settled onto the dime-sized red button that controlled those six .50 caliber machine guns riding under the chin. <"Each gun is supplied with eight hundred and fifty rounds... Each gun has a rate of fire of eight hundred and fifty rounds per minute. That gives me sixty one-second bursts, right. And that means in one second I can put eighty-five rounds on target...">

He dropped altitude, trading height for speed so that he came hurtling at the trucks in a shallow dive. Five hundred meters away from the rear truck, he opened fire. A gout of blood red tracers ripped out from the nose of the craft, the staccato barking of gunfire so rapid that it was like canvas ripping. A sickening, indescribably horrible tearing howl, made only worse by the brilliant flashes and man-high pillars of dust and soil churned up by the shells as they ripped through the air. He walked the fire up along the convoy, treating it to one long mauling burst. Perhaps the worst of it was that only one in every five shells was a tracer and thus visible; the rest were a motley assortment of adjustment-incendiary and ball rounds.

The rear truck was violently shredded by the gunfire. An incendiary shell punctured its fuel tank, causing it to burst into a fireball. Flaming petrol rained down along one side of the rig, while the trucks in front of it were inconsistently peppered with bullets spewed from Daiyu's heavy fighter. The gun run lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to lay in the vicinity of two hundred shells onto the convoy.

The plane roared overhead and climbed back towards the sky, the glittering brass of spent shell casings tumbling towards the ground as evidence of the craft's wicked fangs. At a kilometer out, it banked around for another gun run - the hapless Snamreg on the ground weren't going to escape without a very thorough lesson in Kushari ferocity.
 

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When the Knight noticed the Sith screaming at his men, he threw his rifle safely away, drawing his lightsaber and activating it in one smooth motion, stepping into a defensive Djem So stance with practiced ease, the brilliant blue blade shining off of it's master's face. Even as the blue hue hit his eyes, his face lit up. This was what he was trained for. This was what he spent hours of every day anticipating. This is what he was meant to do. He was meant to defend himself, and others, against the horrors of the Sith. This was what he was best at. His muscles seemed to ache in anticipation, his mouth almost salivating at the thought of entering pitched combat, his eyes seeming to adopt this insane look, as if combat was his high.

Fyston was prepared for when the Sith leapt at him, bringing his blade up and slanting it, redirecting the Sith's blade off to the side, the force of the parry likely sending the blade wide. The Knight made sure to keep himself limber and keep his body able to react in case the Sith pressed the attack, though the Knight took advantage of the opening. As his parry would have caused the Sith's blade to quickly slide off to the side if it didn't go wide, Fyston simply turned his wrists, manipulating the blade to come up right where Eber's wrists would be, seeking to slice the man's hands off right where they joined the rest of his arms.

He felt rather than saw the panic-inducing effects of Daiyu's barrage and simply smiled. Try to leave one truck so that they may leave if they choose to. Otherwise, have fun, "said" the Jedi to Daiyu, though he hoped it didn't sound as if he were telling him what to do. He wanted to kill as few of the Snamreg as possible, especially considering that the entirety of the problems on the planet were due to the Sith.
 

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The echoes of glass shattering sounded through the station, eventually leaking into the utilidors that the last mob boss forced himself to hide away in.

Fritz Eshua was not in a happy mood these days. His temper was short and he was sick of dealing with the types who couldn't figure out the difference between a soda bottle and a tommy gun. The loud commotion was heard by his ears, and he waited to see if the men who also hid with him rustled. They didn't.

"<You fellas got that noise figured out? You guys figure it's nothing?>" he said. The men under him shuffled nervously.

"<Well, boss, we figured some guy is just vandalizing Kugelschreiber's traincar.>" said one very brave soul.

"<So, now you are telling me, that the prick who just tried to pay some bastards to off us at the old printing press is parked right above us? And you haven't done anything about it?>" Fritz was growling now. The feral, brutish nature he was known for was bleeding through and the trappings of a civilized man where barely hanging on. For months, Fritz had been dealing with attempts on his life and a clueless gang of ragtag rebels who were better off milking cattle than shooting bullets.

The men said nothing.

"<>I AM DEALING WITH A BUNCH OF MORONS! I WANT YOU SONS OF A BADGER REKCIF TO GO UP THERE RIGHT NOW AND PUMP THAT SON OF A NIDNUH SO FULL OF LEAD THAT HE'S AN ENVIRONMENTAL HAZARD! " Fritz roared. The men swiftly gathered their weapons and dashed to the main terminal of Union Station.

They gasped at the sight of a mutant horror. Their fear evident on their faces. They had never seen such terrible sight and were ready to flee and duck back into the sewers. Then the men remember who they were even more afraid of and opened fire on the dark monster with tentacles.
 
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Black Noise

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Eber was the very picture of a brute. Strong, roughly 6'1, and a red-skinned Devaronian with razor sharp teeth. But now, the brute melted away and the skilled duelist emerged from the husk-like shell of a monster that had hidden it. While being, to say the very least, rusty at one on one combat with another Force User, Eber never stopped training. Hundreds upon thousands of hours spent on hammering in a thousand different combination attacks and defenses finally kicked back in and the would-be Sith Juggernaut was finally able to prove himself more competent than everyone thought him to be.

His strike went wide, but the second it began to go wide and to the side Eber immediately pulled back two steps and moved out of Fyston's blade range. The Sith was not going to screw this up, his entire body was tense in anticipation for the chance to finally test out his training on another. Naturally he had determined that this was one fight he was not going to lose. Before he was even out of immediate striking range with first strike that went wide, he had pulled his blade back into a defensive position to guard in case Fyston pressed his attack.

If the Jedi did not take immediate advantage of his defensive 'opening' then Eber would step forward and bring his blade upward in a sideswiping swing designed to cut Fyston in two. Eber was confident that, if the Jedi attempted to block him head on, then he could break through the Jedi's block with superior strength and force the Jedi's own blade into his own body. Unbeknownst to him, Eber was putting a bit too much confidence in his own strength.

The Sith began heavily drawing upon the Force and the emotions of panic and chaos behind him, making it easier on him in this fight. The pandemonium behind causing Eber joy. However, little did he know that the strength the chaos behind was giving him would soon disappear.

The Snamreg of Skagrit were not idiots, and now faced with this new technology and the sight of two wizards fighting gave them the burst of courage they needed to make a tactical retreat. Yelling and calling out to each other, the Snamreg made for the surviving trucks and began pulling up any and all wounded men as they did. Firing off bullets wildly at the plane above in an attempt to get it either to stay out of range or get caught by a lucky bullet as they climbed into the trucks and began getting out of there.

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

Laine sat down, her face flushed with anger and a raging force gathering, her entire body shaking as she 'watched' and heard what went on between Della, Geist and the monster. These two Sith picked upon Della like two wolves over a fawn. They knew they had their prey well secured, so now came the 'fun' part of toying with it before the kill. Laine would not be able to take much more of it, the demon inside of her now laughed loudly enough to be heard clearly in Laine's ears. The demon's red eyes slowly clouded Laine's field of vision, she knew she needed to release the anger soon or else it would do so for her. Thankfully, a plan hatched in Laine's mind, one that would help Della and help Laine. Once Geist arrived on the train, Laine subtly reached out and started the train.

Implemented with galactic technology, the train made not a sound as the engines activated and began pulling the train cars. The passengers it carried would likely not even feel the train moving until it had already left the station and began at a 25kph speed. By the time Della composed herself and began responding to Geist in anger, she was not even within Laine's sensing range for Laine know know and be happy with.

By the time the gunfire erupted, scarcely a minute after the train finished pulling out, Laine knew her time to reveal herself had finally come. Leaping out Laine came out from the side of the room opposite to where the gunmen where firing on the monster and drew out the stolen krayt Dragon pearl lightsaber, crafted by Yuunda Cloudchaser. Igniting it's blade, Laine immediately threw up extremely strong mental defenses and began assaulting the mind of this monster with Force Insanity.

Unlike traditional uses of Insanity, Laine did not assign a specific 'anything' to her Insanity. Rather, by just attacking with its raw strength, she was able to amplify its power while drawing less from herself and allowing the target's own mind to manifest horrors and evil beings of pain and suffering. All the while, it gripped the target in perpetual fear that caused their entire body to freeze in utter terror at, sometimes, nothing discernable at all.

That is, that was the result inflicted on a being who had never dealt with the ability before. A more experienced opponent would be able to minorly defend against it, but Laine had been gathering for this attack for a while now, she was prepared to ripe this monster's mind to utter shreds.
 

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Fyston was in his zone, seeing seemingly everything at once. He felt the chaos going on around them due to Daiyu's barrage, he felt the dirt hit him from the same barrage, covering his side with grime and giving him a somewhat insane look. He felt his foe drawing on the Force and knew that, so long as the negative emotions from the Snamreg existed in such quantity, Eber would have the upper hand, though, from the looks of it, the fleeing Snamreg would soon rob him of the energy. The Knight decided to cash in on such an opportunity, though not before deciding to enrage Eber further in the hope that he would make a fatal mistake.

The Knight saw a chance to enrage the Sith when the Sith lashed out, hoping to bisect him with such a simple blow. Just as he noticed the twitch of Eber's muscles, Fyston tapped deep into the Force, seemingly delving into his reserves. He utilized the Force to speed up his reaction time, to quicken his reflexes, to hasten his actions and to improve his speed. Thus, he had no problem quickly turning his blade, pointing it vertically towards the ground to block Eber's assault. Just as the plasma beams met, Fyston rushed inside the Sith's guard, making sure to keep his lightsaber positioned so that Eber couldn't attack him and keeping his body limber in case the Devaronian had a backup plan.

Just before Fyston would have ran into Eber, he turned, sidestepped, and walked backwards, throwing his right elbow up into the Sith's face. At the same time, he let loose a single word. Due to the rustle of equipment or the chaos around them, the first letter was lost, though the rest of it was "Itch." Once he was to Eber's back, he backpedaled a few paces to give him plenty of time to react once Eber acted. Stepping into his best defensive Soresu stance, the Knight continued to antagonize the Sith. "If you're any indication, it'll be two weeks before we clear the Sith off of the planet. I mean, you're letting a cripple get the best of you. How does it feel, knowing that the best that you can do is only a fraction of what I am capable of through the Light?" Considering that Fyston had over a decade of experience in being an asshole, he knew how to manipulate those around him if it needed to be done, be it through insults or more subtle means, and he was one of the best in the Jedi Order at insulting people.
 

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Geist ignored the questions from Della. He was not in the mood. Her constant words always seemed to worm past his emotional wards. If honed, she could do well with Dun Moch. Whether he should teach her was another story.

Why was his Order the correct one? Because he needed it to be. As Konstantine had said, they needed it for their own conscience. He sought its perfection. But he needed order, needed for it to be perfected. And sometimes people were caught in the crossfire. Sometimes even a girl who just wanted to be an athlete and live with her family.

"Leaving a job unfinished would make an even worse mess, Della," he lied. The lie wasn't for Della as much as it was for himself. Damn this girl! She knew just the right buttons. And she looked just like...

As Geist settled inside the train, a mob began shooting out of no where. Geist cursed Della's talents. She had distracted him to the point he had failed to sense the fighters' arrival. The train was already moving, likely Arn's work. However, he needed to deal with these rebels. It appeared that Della was not alone after all. As he began to charge the Force to unleash a might wave of kinetic energy to collapse the tunnel on top of the attackers, Geist sensed Bogan energies; something was assaulting 16 and the Sithspawn wasn't the source of it. It definitely wasn't Della Frey. Even if she knew the technique, which he doubted, she didn't have the focus required thanks to the detrimental effects of pain. Someone else was here.

Lain Derisma was here.

Geist began to sweat. The last time Laine had rebelled, it had almost cost him his life. Granted it was his superiors who had been the possible executioners, but it was her actions that sparked such a response. Now she sought his life personally. Damn everything. Things were going worse by the minute.

Geist sensed the woman on the other side of the tracks. Luckily the train was moving away from her. Thankfully so. However, he did not want to chance Laine following. Leaving Della to her pain, Geist reached out in the Force and pulled a lever in the front cart, increasing speed. The train sped faster towards the underground lake, which could be seen further ahead on his rail line.

Extending himself further into the Force, he touched 16 telepathically. He first used it to ward off the effects of Force Insanity, then he relayed a message. Evacuate now. I am bringing the tunnels down. You have 30 seconds. It was enough time. A service hatch was nearby that led to the slums. 16 could easily navigate the slums back to the rendezvous point where Eber's team was to meet after investigating Laine's ship. He would be able to do fine. With the excess of cloth, the Sithspawn could easily sport a cloak to hide his appearance if spotted. And a murder or two, as long as it wasn't too suspicious, could always be blamed on a cold case; the police were already in the Sith's pocket.

And 30 seconds Geist did indeed provide. 16 was more advanced than the Sechzehnzwei and as such more valuable. If he had planned to allow 16 to be expendable, he wouldn't have waited. The half of a minute, provided ample time to separate distance between himself and Laine. Extending himself for the third time, which he had been charging himself for, he unleashed a shockwave through the tunnels. the tunnels could begin to crack and collapse. The train was far enough it would be save, almost by the underground lake.

"Well, Della," Geist said, finally returning his attention to the injured Jedi. He himself turned around, standing at the doorway to the outside, blocking chance for escape. "I must say I didn't realize immediately Laine was with you. A mistake that shall not be repeated. The tunnels have collapsed, and now she will no longer be able to hinder me ever again."
 
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Jiang Winters

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Rifle fire rose up in a desperate attempt to frighten off Daiyu. The Kushari's striped face wore a grim smile as he waved off, the feline making a long loop to place a comfortable distance between himself and the Snamreg firing off rounds so desperately. His helmet's magnification function allowed him to keep a close watch on them even from a distance, and his fingers drummed against his yoke as he watched the armed men piling into what working trucks remained in a bid to escape. Not far from them, the brilliant flare and crash of lightsabers gave the armored cat a sense of urgency. The faster he wrapped up, the faster he could help Fyston.

He rolled and came in for another pass; those six fifties roared away, doling out fire and death to those poor sods trapped in their lumbering trucks. The hail of shells shredded the vehicles one after another, though perhaps the messiest of his 'kills' was the last truck trying to escape - the one nearest Fyston and his opponent. Daiyu hit its side with a protracted burst. Flaming tracers sliced through the vehicle's sides, whirling trails of foul smoke following in their wake. Smoke and sparks plumed out from the truck's side as those shells exited it - and along with those shells came puffs of pink mist, screams, then silence.

The plane whipped overhead. Spent brass rained down from the fighter as it slipped off into the skies. After spending several moments to check his gauges and ammunition level - and to insure that a Snamreg hadn't scored a lucky hit on his plane - the feline decided he was still in good shape. He turned back and headed towards the crash site, with the intent of putting the airplane down on a relatively untouched strip of road a distance from the convoy. From there, he'd hoof it on foot to the site, and to Fyston.
 

TweedPawn

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"Not here it would. We would pick up our lives and move on. Things don't have to be this way." She said, echoing what she said to Geist when they first conversed in a hotel room years ago. Della heard the commotion outside and tried to stay low as gunfire broke out. She sensed Arn duck for cover and flee from the commotion. A Snamreg was not a warrior for battle. He was simply following the virtues of their people.

It was getting worse, indeed. Della had not realized that the train was moving until she felt the shockwave that radiated from Geist. Her first thoughts went to Lain. She heard the tunnels collapsing and her heart sank. The blood drained from her face ad Della was still losing control over her own abilities.

"I want to forgive you one day. " Della said, her grief starting to seize her.

The train kept increasing in speed. The decorative items that had been loosened from their anchors during the blast. They were now rattling and falling dangerously around the train as it kept increasing in speed. Della realized what was going on and her instinct became triggered to the new source of danger.

"We have to stop the train!" she screamed. Right when she did, a small decorative vase fell on Della's injured leg. The intense pain shot through her entire body and the force that had been charged within her exploded like a nova, ejecting all objects and persons away from her. If anyone was not securely fastened in a seat, they would go flying.

She wasn't sure what happened next. After the blast of energy, the train seemed to reenter sunlight, going even faster. There was a jump, a loud crashing sound, and Della felt herself being wedged in-between two seats as a safety precaution. The rail cars rolled from their tracks, steel frames becoming a maze of broken parts.

When it was over, Della wasn't even sure how she survived. Her leg was in agony, and now she would have bruises and cuts to add to it. She looked up, the roof of the railcar was completely gone. Only forest and mountains were in her view. It was fall in these parts.

Della struggled to pull herself from the wreckage, but the leaves under her caused her to slip.

"I have to keep moving. I need to get away. " she said, her raw instinct guiding her. The Force guiding her instinct. There was possibly predators about. The with would soon come for her. Where was Geist? It wasn't important now.

She pushed through her pain, finally. She tried to draw from the Force, but she was weakened now. All it could do was numb the area of the breakage. Della lifted herself up. She saw a broken piece of wood that would be useful. She ripped a nearby seat cushion. She used the padding and fabric together to create a crutch from the broken wood she found. It would have to do.

She limped away from the wreckage. She thought it would be sunset by now, hard to believe it was only midday. Della sweated from exhaustion. She wanted to lay down. Just simply lay down and allow fate to do its will. But, she felt something pull her towards survival. She thought she heard a lonely howl in the distance.

She thought she saw a man in front of her.

"<Sir, I need help. Please help me…>" She said.

"<I suppose I better. There is a monster in the forest right now and he is always watching.>" said the man. Della couldn't make out his features. He was hazy in her vision, as were most things.

"<My leg, it's broken. I'm getting cold.>"

"<I know. But that is the least of your worries. Do you see the rocks? over there?>"

"<I do…Sir.>"

"<There is a nook in them that will keep you warm and safe until help arrives.>"

"<Can you get help? Please?>" Della limped to the boulders that were nearby. She found inside of them a pile of leaves that would help insulate her.

"<It is already coming. >"

"<I want to sleep. Can I sleep?>"

"<No, it is not time for you to sleep yet.>"

Della sat and leaned against the stones. She wasn't sure where he was now, but the man was gone. Della sat in the wilderness. For the first time since being taken from Sacul, she was alone.
 

Black Noise

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Eber flashed back and to the side at Fyston's charge, maneuvering out of battle range and dodging the jab when it came up. His face twisting up in anger at the Jedi as the kid spoke, Eber growled and responded.
"Don't be so cocky Jedi scum."
Charging forward again, the Sith pulled up an attack yet again, almost identical to the one moments before. This time, however, he made a few minor changes. First, he attacked with only one hand, second, he ignited his lightsaber in electric energies so that, if or when Fyston blocked, lightning would stream through the clashing blades and into the body of the Jedi. Simultaneously, should Fyston seek to avoid Eber's attack, the Sith would flash out with a violent Force Push to shove the Jedi away.

However, unbeknownst to Eber, he was now fully drawing upon, and exhausting, his own inner energies. While his anger allowed for more strength momentarily, he was dooming himself in the long run. His source of strength, the chaos behind him, was organizing what was left and leaving en masse. They didn't care for Eber, and all the better for them if Eber was killed or captured. The wizards were few, and if one died it meant one very large problem gone for them.

And with that thing in the sky raining death, the few remaining men had no notion nor want to stay a moment more than they had to. All rifle fire silenced as they pulled away and focused solely on self preservation.

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

Laine was screaming as she attacked the beast. She could sense the effects of her Insanity not taking full effect on the monster, and she knew that only an outside influence could aid in resisting her ability. Drawing upon her vision blurring rage and ignoring the held back tears that suddenly found themselves flowing down her face, Laine blasted the tendril Sith with a Force Push aimed to send him careening over into a wall nearby where an escape hatch held.

Enraged as she was, she did not allowed herself to be fully controlled by it. Granted, she was expending for more energy in her rage far more copiously than she should have been, but how she was using it was not in a manner blind to tactics and the world around. She knew that the only person who could be helping this monster in front of her would be Geist Weiss, and Geist was far too cautious to want to risk Laine, whom he feared, following him.

Did not take a genius to guess what the Sith Lord was planning on doing.

Looking up, Laine felt minor, suppressed surprise as she saw the ceiling alive with a million cracks. Cracks through the Force that she could see were being flooded with energies. Possibly Geist's, but Laine wasn't sticking around long enough to find out. Turning heel, Laine ignited her entire body in Force Speed, dropping her Insanity on the Sithspawn and refocusing all her bodily energies on moving as fast as possible to escape.

She estimated it wasn't even half a minute before the massive shockwave rocked the tunnels. Laine quickened her step as much as she could and in doing so barely got out of it with her life. The tunnels collapsed behind her as Laine tumbled to the ground, her body being slammed with the after effects of exhaustion from her actions as almost enough dust was kicked into the air to suffocate a person. Crumpled on the ground, Laine rested for a few moments as the dust settled. Suddenly, she was overly aware of the all encompassing darkness, the absolute silence, and the terrifying knowledge that she was once again alone and useless.

Slowly, Laine curled up and sobbed.
 

Dmitri

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Falling...

Geist had taunted Della upon collapsing the tunnel they had previously been in. He wasn't sure why he did it. Was it to try to make Della fall into despair? Or was it to make himself believe that the plight from his past was finally dead? He wasn't sure anymore.

Falling...

Whatever the case, it had enraged Della. It had upset her emotionally. She sensed something that made her demand the cessation of the train's movements. Possibly she sensed something. The danger of the unstable integrity of the underground complex. Laine's death. Or the impending fate that she would eventually fall to the Dark Side.

Falling...

Falling? Why was he falling? Geist tried to wrestle control over his memories. He had been on a train, and now the only train he was on was a faulty train of thought. The metaphorical train was failing to collect his thoughts. He tried to put the pieces back together. He had killed the plague in his life, he had taunted Della, and Della... right, she had unleashed her power. A raw energy she had demonstrated in the past. But stronger now. Much stronger. Maybe it had grown. Maybe it had been bottled up for too long. He didn't know. And at this point in time, he didn't want to know. All he knew was that he was falling.

Falling...

Falling...

Falling into a cold darkness that consumed his existence.
 

Fyston

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When Eber stepped out of range, Fyston felt a sense of despair and confusion. It wasn't his despair, but it felt as if it were trickling into his mind. He wasn't worried, as his own mental barriers moved in and compartmentalized, preventing it from spreading, but the Knight stretched out with his mind and, though it was some distance away, found the source of the negative emotions. It was Della.

The thought of her being alone, confused, and possibly injured instantly gave Fyston the will to do his best. He would take care of the Sith, either by capturing him or by killing him, and would allow nothing to stand between he and Della. He gave his conscious mind away, allowing the Force to control him completely. He saw the fight through his own eyes and felt everything he did, but the Force controlled his actions completely.

The Force guiding him, the Knight tucked his body and leapt forwards toward Eber, though the Force Push threatened to cause him to fly away harmlessly. Without pausing to think, the Knight redirected the energy aimed at him, sending it around him and using it to spin him rapidly. Were he doing this without the Force, he would most certainly get sick and be unable to see due to the speed and blur of everything. By listening to the ebbs of the Force and using its influence subtly, Fyston could and would maneuver in the air so that he could hit Eber.

The blue lightsaber extending from his otherwise circular form was the only part that denoted any change in his form. With the Force guiding and aiding him, Fyston would be limber enough to avoid or parry any blows that came from Eber as the Knight descended. If he didn't have to deal with any of Eber's nonsense, Fyston would come down at high speeds and, with gravity, momentum, and his own strength on his side, would lash out with a vicious vertical slash, seeking to bisect the Sith. Considering all of the factors that were on Fyston's side, he knew that Eber would be hard pressed to block his attack without injuring himself with his own lightsaber. Even should Eber's strength hold, Fyston would be in a position to push slightly off of Eber's lightsaber and slice the point of his lightsaber upwards through Eber's skull.


_______________________________________________________​

16 felt his mental defenses weaken and prepare to buckle at the sudden attack, though, considering he had trained his mental defenses to a high degree of skill during his time as a mere subject, instinctively began throwing up more defenses. Mental walls came to the forefront of his mind, though even those began to buckle and break. He felt the effects of Force Insanity, though laughed at the notion. He was fear. He was made to kill Jedi. He was the ultimate weapon, and fear was not a problem. He faced it and, whenever it showed up, used it to better himself.

Finally, after nearly a minute of throwing up defenses and battling the mental invader where he could, 16 was in a position to harness the Insanity being pushed against him. He forced the invader out of his mind, finally having them on neutral terms. He could not gain access into her mind, though she could also not gain access into his. They were at a stalemate when Geist Weiss's presence appeared, which 16 let in without hesitation.

When he learned that he should run, he disengaged immediately, though kept his mental defenses up and prepared. He "saw" an exit strategy in the form of a service hatch. He began heading for it when he felt himself being pushed by the Force. The Experiment unhinged his jaw, causing the stench of death and despair to roll from his face, as well as emanating an overall "wrong" sense to be emitted in the Force. In a scraggly, demonic, horrific voice that seemed to have undertones that inspired pure fear, the Sithspawn said one word. "Thanks." With his spider-like hands, he gripped the wall around him and climbed rapidly upwards, two tentacles keeping their lightsabers out and activated in case he needed defenses and the others clutching the wall.

He was out of the tunnels in seconds, spending the next twenty or so seconds scrambling away from the area that was to be brought down. He climbed through old buildings and rushed through alleys on his six tentacles, the lightsabers having been put up once he sensed nobody around him that wished him ill. He was a giant bug in every sense of the word, keeping away from people and scrambling back to the Sith's base of operations.
 

Nirvana

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For the past week Simon had been posted at one of the outposts close to the border between Whitestone and Skagrit, it didn't feel like at the outpost like it did back in Whitestone – though he didn't mind it actually. He thought that in a sense the outpost was actually a lot more cozy then his room in Whitestone, he couldn't really explain why he thought so, it just felt that way. And so far even this day had just passed by like almost every day the last week had passed by, nothing much happening. At least until the sound of shrieking metal and a grinding sound could be heard over the hills, what ever it was that had caused that sound – was definitely not Snamreg. And since he was on patrol duty, he had to investigate what it was that had caused the sound.


–<O>– Ten minutes later –<O>–​

Arriving at the source of the sound panting, Simon found himself dumbfound by what he saw. Or rather, how could something like this happen – what had caused this to happen in the first place. Instead of standing still and thinking more about it, Simon did what he thought was right, and ran towards the wreckage to try and find any survivors – if there was any at all.

Climbing into the wreckage he looked around, awed at the destruction that had ravaged the inside of the train-cart. So much had been destroyed, he couldn't even make some of the things out or guess what they had originally been. Then as he continued to search through the train, he came across the engine of the train. What ever that thing was, it wasn't made by Snamregs, he was sure that it wasn’t made by them. It looked to alien like to be made by their hands, so instead of trying to investigate that part of the train any more he moved on.

But after almost half an hour of searching through the wreckage he couldn't find any survivors, jumping down and out from one of the carts he sighed and kicked a small pebble. It didn't make any sense, he had found traces of blood, but not a single person could be found – at least not in the wreckage. Scratching his head Simon started to think about the blood he had found earlier, if he had found blood, then there should be someone around here that was either alive or dead. If so, then all he had to do was follow the blood. That was it, he had to trace the blood to it's source. And with that, he began to try and find whom it was that had left the trace of blood.

After a few minutes of tracing the blood Simon found himself standing by a rather big boulder with a nook in it, peeking inside of it he saw a girl sitting against the rocks. From the looks of it she was freezing and not paying much attention to him. Taking a step forward and out from his cover provided by the boulder Simon knelt in front of the girl.”Hey, are you okay?” he said as he noticed the wound on her forehead, so instead of waiting for her to reply, Simon started to reach for one of the three bandages which he had on him.”My name is Simon, who are you?” trying to talk with someone that was injured was a good way to make sure that they stayed conscious, Amy had taught him that during his time learning about first aid.
 

TweedPawn

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Della saw in her hazy vision a young boy, barely a teenager. She shuddered in the nook she was in, it took her a moment before she responded. She did not sense hostility from the boy. he looked closely and saw markings that were not from the Plains nor Skagrit. It only could have been Whitestone.

"<Della Frey. I'm from the Plains. I'm cold. I need help.>" She replied. She allowed the boy to administer the first-aid to her. She was still acting on her instinct, her memory of the train wreck muddled by the search for basic needs.
 
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