Oh Lazarus, how did your debts get paid...

[Dark child]

The red glow of the twin blades held in his hands reflected in the geonosian's cold calculating compound eyes, more insectoid than human. The chip housed within his brain hummed, vibrating within the inner sanctums of his mind as it processed how to counter the kamashi warrior's blade, the brass-like sheen of the metal glinting in the light of the sun as the scythe shaped blade headed towards Phyxsis's abdomen.

The goenosian's exoskeletal fingers made a strange popping and cracking noise as the joints shifted rapidly, pushing his body's physical capabilities to dangerous levels in order to gain more speed. Phyxsis's grip on his right saber was reversed in mere milliseconds, catching the tribal completely off guard.

The geonosian's reversed blade now blocked the Kamashi warrior's several inches away from the geonosian's body, but Phyxsis wasn't finished. His other saber hummed in his left hand, and Phyxsis shifted his full body weight towards the warrior, passing the Kamashi's defenses with ease, his saber's red blade skated across the brass of the warrior's weapon and soon seared through flesh, cutting the man's arm in two. As the Kamashi screamed in agony, Phyxsis brought his now free saber down on the warrior's helmet. The plasma cut through the metal like butter, and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air as the ornate helmet melted and fused with the tribal's face.

Phyxsis kicked the body to the side, sending it flying against a nearby sandstone wall where it slumped into a heap. Various hisses and clicks emitted from the geonosian's mouth as he spoke in his native tongue. <No sport. My time here is wasted.>

The geonosian's wings fluttered and soon he rose above the rooftops overlooking the city. The insect was incapable of smiling, but the sights he now witnessed brought him great joy. A sea of shiny black armor had flooded the streets, the Kamashi had been no match for the Imperials, their dropships landing with only minimal casualties. Like ants devouring a lesser species, the Legion had proven to be unstoppable thus far.

Trebuchets burned in the streets, sending up columns of grey and white smoke. The Kamashi had realized they were fighting a loosing battle, and Phyxsis relished their fear. Further and further they pulled back into the city towards the vertical cliffs, in time, the entire tribe would be massacred with their backs against this naturally formed wall.

But a voice called his name, the voice of a man clad in ancient armor. A relic in the flesh. Phyxsis's mandibles clicked as he listened to the Paladin's threat, the geonosian equivalent of a scoff.
"I will not tolerate your presence on this world any longer COWARD!"
Spoke the Knight from his lowly position on the ground.

Once again his mandible's clicked, and the geonosian hovered lower to the ground so that his opponent could hear him. Slowly, mockingly, Phyxsis raised his clawed hand up to his throat to engage his transmitter, the voice it emitted was loud and crackled with stactic, enough for the Palladin to hear over the din of the raging battle.
"You shall not have to bear much more. You will perish here along with the rest of your kind. You are weak and unworthy of my time."

With the final word, Phyxsis cast out his hand in a demonstration of power. Splintering a trebuchet with the immense downward force, shards of metal and stone flew in all directions. Pieces of shrapnel headed directly towards Volken, and if the Knight did not get out of harms way, he would be torn to shreds.

Satisfied that this would be the end of the Knight, and that the battle would soon come to a close, Phyxsis turned his back on the raging skirmish, heading towards his ship, he hovered effortlessly over the rooftops, his wings an undefinable blur. The Sith needed him elsewhere...
​

 

[Shax]

Volken took a few potshots at the beast as it flew into the sky, even knowing he wouldn't hit the Sith, it still made him feel better. He retrieved his lance as the Bug drew closer, expecting it to land and engage Volken in a duel. Instead, the beast spoke in a crackling unclear voice, before executing a motion Volken knew all to well. He quickly glanced around, he was standing in the middle of the road, there was no where to go, at least no where he could get to in time. He dropped to one knee, while holding his lance straight up with both hands. He muttered a prayer and bit down hard on the leather strap in his helmet just as he heard the crash of the trebuchet. In the milliseconds it took for the shards and splinters to reach him, Volken finished the last muffled word of his prayer and sent his own telekinetic wave towards the quickly incoming debris.

Volken felt an immediate stabbing pain go through the side of his head, not because he was struck by debris, but because he had used the force too extensively. He had thankfully, pushed all of the most dangerous debris away from him. For a few seconds he couldn't move or speak because of the pain in his head, and when he could, he growled like a rabid dog and bit down hard on his mouthpiece. He could feel his left eye becoming incredibly bloodshot, and he was wobbly.

Instead of collapsing right there, like his body wanted him to do, he stood up, using his lance for support as he steadied himself. His men were dead, slaughtered by a disgusting bug who called himself sentient, so he owed it to them to press on. He gathered his bowcaster and slung it over his shoulder, before walking at a measured pace towards the west courtyard, doing his best not to fall or to think.

 

[The Good Doctor]

Blightwing listened to the Sith mutter his words and he didn't really care what he said. The Emperor does not need his own troops getting killed by his own order. Not only that but the generals as well would not tolerate this, even if their lives are expendable. The Sith are supposed to in-fight against themselves to prove who is stronger. He was prepared to ignite his lightsaber and summarily punish Varian for treason against the Sith. He then got a buzzing sound on his datapad. And he checked the notification. It''s something urgent that popped up that needs to be taken care of. He then puts away his datapad and then gives Varian notice of his leave. "How fortunate for you. It looks like something has come up. Now, I must go!" And then Blightwing then draws upon the force to hurry over to his Ziost fighter. Once he is there he takes off and depart the planet.

/Exit Thread

Spoiler

OOC: Leaving this thread because Blightwing died in another thread and I don't like Blightwing as much as I want to anyway, so this will cut off my loose ends with him

 

[Dark child]

"kriffing sith"

Muttered Xanthier under his breath.
Watching the pair of them tear each other to shreds would have brought him more satisfaction than a lover's embrace. Like two dogs trying to prove their might, any Sith would rip apart their lesser if they believed it would result in their ascension towards more power. What Xanthier failed to realize, is that he was the same. Smugglers, arms dealers, and revolutionaries, anyone who stood in his way or could give him the tools to help bring down the Empire were pawns to be exploited or cut down as he saw fit. Their lives did not matter, his message did. A simple twisted code that he lived by. Peace is not an option. Not against an opponent who knows nothing of mercy. Violence is the only solution. There were many times, many situations in which Xanthier had even encouraged the war to escalate. Acts of terrorism and espionage to end peaceful negotiations and heighten the tension between groups in the mid and outer rim against the Imperial regime, both before and after their appearance on planets. He was no savior. Not a valiant knight like Volken. He cursed and scarred the worlds he left behind. Instead of continuing to live in fear of the empire he had allowed villages and entire cultures such as this one to be burnt to ashes for standing up against an opponent that they could never hope to defeat.

Xanthier did not see it that way. In his mind it was better to die free than to live in fear and chains, but by inciting aggression against the Empire he had removed the choice of the people altogether. He had removed any chance of surrender to give them death. Not the Kamashi perhaps, they were a proud people, one that would would never have bowed to the Empire.

What constitutes evil? If you believe that your actions are the only correct choice do you become damned if they are wrong? If all you are taught is hate, is hatred the only thing you are capable of spreading?

Xanthier watched as the elder Sith rushed back towards the landing zone. Something had no doubt called him back, but Xanthier was unsure as to what. That did not matter. What did was that the boy still remained, the Sith that had slaughtered his own kind. Perhaps there was potential there, perhaps, with the right persuasion, Xanthier could sway the Sith's subjective mind and turn him against his masters.

No.

He was a threat. A dog, just like Xanthier had been. A mindless beast that killed all in it's path and obeyed it's master's commands. Xanthier felt pity, but no remorse as he slowly turned the gears of the grenade held in his gloved hands. Soft clicks could be heard as he did so, and they almost soothed him, telling him that soon, another Sith would be dead. One less grain of sand in a beach of black sand that stretched on towards oblivion. A pointless battle that he continued to fight. Xanthier wasn't a wave. His actions didn't have an impact on the Empire as a whole, but he was content as a ripple. One that would carry as many grains of sand with it as possible before being swept back into an empty sea.

In his mind he counted to four before throwing the live thermal detonator directly towards the Sith. This would give his opponent very little time to react, and if he did survive the blast, it would give Xanthier a greater advantage.



​

 

[Infintus]

"One day, death will find him, and when it does, I will be there"

Small whispers build, at first quiet, but the more it built the louder it got, different voices state different things, until one singular and noticeable voice reveals itself.
They don't understand
"Of course they don't, I will make them, when the opportunity arises, I'll take it.."
You mean 'we'll'
"No, I mean 'I'll', you're not in control, nor do you have an input"
When I was alive I was the master.
"Was, you're history now"
That is debatable
"Whatever makes you comfortable, Father"

Silence is all that remained of the conversation

Unwittingly, Varian is sent flying into stacks of crates, it happened so fast it felt like he woke up where he landed, just beside a pool of blood, the corpses of both enemy and ally alike lay dead, Varian's noble work, Varian is deafened, the piercing screams drumming into his ears, he frantically shakes his head as he tries to pull himself up, he gracefully pats himself to check for possible injuries, the surface of his head is rough, crimson water slides down his forehead, half of his face was caught in the blast radius, the dust merged with blood is spread across his youthful skin, it doesn't take long until Varian gains his wits, his armor too was damaged, leaving his left shoulder and pectoral vulnerable, he pulls himself up hastily, unsheathing his blade, the blade is activated, the harsh cracking sound it makes is hurtful to the ears, he analyzes his surroundings, looking for exits, useful objects, and hostiles.

Use the force to turn the crates into weapons and shields
If all else fails call for reinforcements
Try and not get shot nor damaged any further
Take out any nearby troops and sites used by resistance
Kill the poodoo that threw that force-damned grenade

Varian sets up a bucket list for himself quietly, a shadowy figure speedily lurks behind corners, his feet lightly creating quiet pitter patters, he sees him run behind a stack of crates, instinctively Varian force push the crates viciously. Some get knocked over while some get sent flying across the court yard.

"I thought you had honor" I yell, Varian you're an idiot, you killed your own troops and your talking to him about honor.
I heard the resistance here had ego's so I guess I'll just play with that until he reveals himself, I'm probably mistaken.