Operation Gothic Shield: The Sprawl

[Jiang Winters]

The Sprawl, 1700 Hours ​

Set into a duracrete wall overlooking a slag pit filled with countless tons of molten metal, the control center for Primary Infrastructure Complex 4 Bravo is a facility like no other. Large but devoid of any defenses such as autoblasters or blast shields, the facility's sole defense is the gigantic pit of smoldering metal laying beneath the gangways and duracrete bridges spanning the sea of molten metal.

Defended by a token force of Marshall Kunsan's best men, there's little doubt in anyone's mind that taking back the Sprawl's command center will be a bitter fight for the two Jedi assigned to it..

FORCES:

Allies: 2 PC's

Guard: 1 PC, 1 NPC Knight-level Force User OR 2 NPC Padawan-level Force Users [NPC's are under Xyrael's control.] 6 Non-combatant NPC's in the control center; they will surrender if caught by the Jedi and will NOT fight or interfere in the fight in any way even if directly ordered to do so.

POSTING ORDER:
-Defender 1
-Defender 2
-Attacker 1
-Attacker 2

RULES: First round of posts is introduction, and to allow the defenders to establish what their defenses are. Defenders, PM me if you have any questions about what is available to you. Attackers, PM me if you need clarification on what your men have. Only rule is this: You are not allowed to attack either side in the first round. You are not allowed to call in reinforcements or support without the approval of the battle admin. [That'd be me.]

Now get in there and kick ass! Remember, this is all about fun, so don't focus too much on winning. Just have a good time, a'ight?

 

[Ruri]

Kyros had to admit that he hadn’t taken part in a genuine battle in quite some time. His skills were more suited to political assassinations and bounty hunting, but now and again a particularly ruthless and desperate commander would contact him and practically pour credits down his throat for assistance, and in such a case Aurion was only too happy to oblige. Field Marshall Kunsan, despite his rather brilliantly executed coup of the Konstallen government, had seemingly forgotten that there were other forces in the galaxy that might just have something to say about his ruthless hostile takeover and fascist tendencies. Apparently flabbergasted at the onset of the Galactic Alliance forces, he had desperately spoken with one of Kyros’ contacts and in short order, the Anzati had been on the planet and in position.

That particular position happened to be a particularly thick support girder, high above the walkways, wedged into the corner of the massive cavern, and in clear view of the duracrete bridges leading to the control center of the primary fusion generator. His position had been selected for its outstanding view of the battlefield as well as the shadowy cover it provided; Kyros was essentially invisible purely by virtue of the fact that this close to the rocky ceiling of the cavern, light was rather unneeded for operations and thus was sparse. The corner position also made it impossible for an enemy to approach from a flank. He was also rather far from the main battlefield, which was a preferred situation for him when he suspected that close-combat-focused warriors such as Jedi would be involved. Covered by a sniper in such an elevated position, they would find any progress extremely difficult. The girder was also wide enough for one as dextrous as he to easily maneuver if need be, leaping from beam to beam or walkway to walkway to always be in the superior position.

As the Anzati sank down onto his haunches to make a smaller target profile and his surcoat draped over the lip of the beam behind him, he found himself idly wondering what army the Galactic Alliance would send to try to bypass his defense.

The assassin was dressed in what would, at a distance, almost appear to be Jedi robes. His apparel consisted of a light gray long sleeved hooded shirt with a sleeveless dark brown leather wrapping, trousers, leather calf braces, leather wrap arm bracers, a white sleeveless surcoat, and worn black leather foot wear. His torso and thighs were protected from beneath his clothing by ultralight armor, providing modest protection but certainly not enough to defeat concentrated fire or restrict his movement. Twin bandolier’s stretched across his leanly muscled chest in an “X” shape, mirroring the ragged scar hidden beneath unruly bangs of auburn hair. One of these bandoliers supported a modified Tenloss DXR-6 disruptor rifle and extra ammunition cases to expand upon the 10-shot clip. The other held various pouches containing considerable extra ammunition for the illegally modified blaster pistol at his right hip and the similarly upgraded disruptor pistol opposite it. On his belt was a number of thermal detonators, with variable-grade destructive potential. Finally, the battered electrum lightsaber that was becoming unhealthily characteristic of him was clipped horizontally across the crest of his hip bone, held more securely than a typical Jedi’s weapon and also partially concealed for surprise attacks.

Kyros’ black boots scraped in protest against the durasteel support beam as he shifted into a more comfortable position. Unfortunately, he was not the best-equipped for all-out warfare and Kunsan, again inexplicably shocked at this attack battering down his door, was woefully limited on weapon issue. The Anzati would have been happy with some autoturrets to help hold the line, but alas, none were available. He had also intended to rig the bridges and walkways with demolition charges, but Kunsan had been adamant that his facility was not to suffer damage that might impair day-to-day function. Kyros had been deeply irritated by this, but had complied.

He had, however, rigged up an impressive set of booby traps with what little time he had. Stretching across each and every bridge was a set of ultra-thin trip wires, 5 for each 10-meter bridge. Each trip wire was rigged to a limited-yield thermal detonator concealed on the underside of the corresponding bridge. Each wire was pulled taught and any disturbance could easily break them. Upon breaking, the detonator would be armed and fall into the vat. Each has a timer of only a few seconds, and upon explosion an intense geyser of molten steel will shoot up and coat that bridge and the surrounding ones with a lethal rain of fire. Kyros had used up almost all of his detonators rigging up this limited defense, but the number of wires would ensure that any party making their way across the bridges would be hard-pressed to step over all of them while at the same time avoiding his sniper-fire. They would have to take to the walkways, which was where Kyros would prefer to engage them.

Pulling his disruptor rifle from its position on his back by rotating its bandolier, Kyros inspected the firing chamber with a practiced eye. His unnerving gaze of molten gold scoured the weapon through curtains of brown bangs for defects and ensured that it was ready to fire. His meticulous care for his weaponry showed, as excepting a few scratches to the outer casing the rifle was in excellent condition. Satisfied, the Anzati pressed the butt of the weapon in the cradle formed between shoulder and clavicle and gazed through the zoom scope, carefully adjusting the aiming sight with precision borne from literally millenia of practice to ensure that he could pick a fly off of the far wall if it carried a weapon. He settled in with his back against the rock wall, aiming at the entrance to the cavern, and waiting for the enemy he knew was coming.

As if to ensure him of the imminence of attacking forces, a rumble from a distant explosion far overhead rocked the facility, causing bits of debris and dust to tumble down from the ceiling and crash with loud, abrasive clangs of protest against the durasteel components they struck. The mythic assassin caressed the trigger of his rifle like the cheek of a lover, if he had ever had one.

Let them come.

 

[Xyrael]

Jae Rall glared with anticipation at each of the possible approaches, his mind feeling the Force for the feeble Jedi minds. He had served the Marshall well before, and he had been called upon to serve him once again. The Alliance, more imperialist swine than freedom bearing saviors, had sought to replace the order of things with their own, narrow-minded ideals. The Alliance was a flawed and twisted machine with broken cogs and disshevelled minds. Only authority could persist, and bring last peace. It had not been Konstallen who brought war to the Alliance, no. No, it had been the Alliance, they were the warmongers, he saw the truth for what it was.

He stood there, at the control center, knowing that the bridges which intersected and crisscrossed throughout the vast, smoldering cavern all led to him. He knew the enemy would come, this site was valuable, every minute delayed taking this facility was several dozen more dead Alliance soldiers. He let loose a lopsided grin, knowing that his battle, regardless of his success, would result in the deaths of more of these self-righteous invaders.

"Come, come, I know you're there," he scowled at each of the approached, "little wretches, come."

One of the peons working the controls looked at him funny.

"Back to work, runt, or it'll be your spleen!"

 

[Prancing Yawn]

Four infantrymen and two Jedi.. against, who knows what? Cat grimaced.

This was his very first real honest-to-goodness combat scenario. Real bullets. Real lasers. Real lives at stake. No more simulations. It was time for him to step up. If he ever wanted an opportunity to prove to the council that he was worthy for Knighthood, this was the opportunity. The teenager Padawan and his master Christian Noble had been two of the first from the Order to get shuttled to action at Konstallen, and today they got their first main assignment. With a small squad of troopers and their own Force abilities, they hoped to disable the reactor that powered the dictator Kunsan's flak guns, turrets, and other adversaries to the Alliance cause that had to be dealt with.

The battlefield was not much of a battlefield at all. A spiderweb of, at first glance, unsturdy catwalks, that could easily be shot out from under them by a sniper or by constant blaster fire. He tried to reassure himself by thinking that they must be sturdy if workers constantly cross them, but Cat was still worried. He had to reassure himself quick, though - any inconfidence in himself would prove a major hinderance in battle, the Battlemaster had taught him.

But now, he had commander over lives. Real lives. Breathing, alive as can be, lives. And they counted on him for leadership. He knew that if he had to ensure the safety of the lives of his men, he might need to put his life in severe danger. But that's something he would have to do, if needed, as a Jedi.

The fireteam was just near the entrance to the network of bridges, which would connect to the central station, where the reactor was. They would be vulnerable to snipers once they got onto the bridges, and there was not much cover in the thin spiderweb.

"Alright, master. We've got a few options here. We can either split up for a pincer movement from two angles, one of us attracting any sniper fire while the other can slip through, or we can turtle all the way through as one group. We've got to get to the reactor one way or another."

He was eager to prove himself in the conflict to come, cracking his knuckles to prepare for pounding his fists into the enemy's face. He had no lightsaber, so any deflection of bolts or bullets would lay solely on his Force ability to deflect them. Hopefully his reflexes would be fast enough.

Too bad we don't have a giant tank or robot...

 

[Matt]

The trip planetside had been nothing more or less then Thoroughly depressing seeing the truly horrible man this Marshall was. Taking away the people's privileges to power his war effort. How very sad that despots always took there frustration out on the people rather then themselves...

''Yes, the big problem we are faced with is lack of ways across. No doubt the rouges will have booby trapped some parts of the ways across and if I had to say which it would most likely be the narrower ways across. So what do we do? What do we do....hmmmmm''

Christian walked forward past the group to look down the walkway into the distance for a moment before pulling his head back in...There were force users here, how very strange.

''Right, which one of you delightful fellows is a sharp shooter in the group....Ah hello if you could come here and prop yourself along here and run your rifle along anywhere overlooking the walkways and see if you can find anyone, please''

The sniper was very good putting himself in a position where the line of sight on him was very small whilst he managed to get a very good look across the entire area they would have to go through.

''Now Cat, let's see if we get a rough idea of where the rouges are''

 

[Xyrael]

[[Resuming original post order in OOC]]

Jae Rall looked around, he could sense them. Sense their presence, their disgusting nature. They stood out like a sore thumb in this abysmal landscape of molten metal and twisted duracrete. 'Pureness' they called it. It was less pure than blinded faith. He analyzed his surroundings, the control center sat on a dais in the center of the superstructure, seemingly held in place by a giant metal arm that rose from the depths of hell beneath, supported by a myriad legion of spindling metal wires that were attached to the walls.

The control center itself was poorly sheltered, the computers that lined the dais were scantily protected from debris and ash, ordinarily manned by robots today it was manned by living, breathing souls. "Innocents" they might be called, "prisoners" forced to do his masters work. They were doing their duty for their world, standing out against the oppressive Senate and their Jedi puppets. Each of the six men sat at a station, but in truth only one needed to be alive to keep the station running at minimal functions.

Flimsy glass windows surrounded the control center and connected to a sturdy ceiling scorched from stray embers. The windows were easily destroyed by blaster fire, three doors each providing an entrance at equal intervals around the station, an average width metal grated floor surrounded the dais and provided an excellent view of the boiling metal below. Two riflemen patrolled it's surface, each on opposite sides of the building, so as to reduce the odds that both would be in line of sight. They kept watch for any intruders, and, given that all paths lead to them, they naturally had an ideal firing location.

Jae Rall stood alone in the control center, but his senses were piqued. He knew the Jedi were coming, and he had honed in on his wrath, he knew the Jedi dogs would doubtlessly try to take him down with trickery! He approached one of the civilian scum, gently patting his shoulder.

This one will be the first to die, he thought to himself. He only needed one of these men alive to operate the control center. The rest were nothing more than fodder meant to maintain appearances, in his mind.

 

[Ruri]

The two riflemen started a bit as a nudge on their very minds, like a touch on the shoulder, brought them to high alert. The butts of their rifles dug into their shoulders and their knees bit into the duracrete ceiling of the command center as they hastily scanned the far entrances to the cavern for any sort of signs of life. Sure enough, there was movement but it was far out of effective range. Regardless, these two men were as ready as ready got. Their orders were simple: kill all who attempted to approach the reactor command center. They were ready to lay down their lives for Field Marshall Kunsan if that’s what he demanded, such was their devotion to what he stood for. A bit of proper order and stability to purge this wretched industrial hulk of a planet of its iniquity. He’d seen potential where others never could, and these men were ready to prove that potential by defending a key strategic point in Kunsan’s defense from the Galactic Alliance.

The men were situated on the roof of the command center, behind a waist-high duracrete wall that normally acted as a guard rail to keep anyone from falling. Now, it made perfect cover for these men in an elevated position, their rifles poking up over the lips of the walls and only their heads and arms visible. Far above them, and covering their flanks, was Kyros himself. Knowledge of this couldn't help but make the two men just a little uneasy. Frankly, the mysterious assassin had seemed to come from nowhere and the way he looked at them was, in a word, unnerving. It was like a fly being looked at by a hungry arachnid. Still, they recognized him as a powerful and highly skilled ally. It had been he who had alerted the men simply by prodding their presences in the flow of life all around them, a flow that had been suddenly intensified by the presence of a pair of Jedi on the sublevel. Kyros' own grip tightened on his rifle as he momentarily adjusted his scoping lens to zoom out, providing him a more total view of the entrance to the bridge area as those up higher, on the walkways.

Master and apprentice...how cute...

Jedi and Sith always operated as such. Though having yet to show themselves, they appeared to Kyros as veritable nexuses of life energy. It flowed through them readily, enflaming the ancient Anzati hunger deep within his mind and body. It gave the creature focus; it made him stronger and more lethal. His probosci poked out of his cheek pouches flanking his nose for the briefest of instants, as if just to taste the musty, gritty, hot subterranean air before slipping back into concealment. He craved their essences with a voracity they could never understand, with a rapaciousness honed over millennia of predation that shone as a feral gleam in his normally cold and halcyon gaze. Jedi and their Sith counterparts made meals scarcely worse than those of his...preferred type, and his rather refined palette would accept no less.

Kyros had taken note of a particularly fearsome pair of the latter lot in one of Kunsan’s several other defensive squads. It escaped even Kyros’ considerable intelligence how these two groups could think themselves so different and yet operate so similarly. They were like two facets cut from the same flawed gem; two shards of the same broken mirror. However, his idle musings were cut short when his eyes caught movement. Yes, an Alliance trooper had slipped into view and...from the looks of it, was scanning for snipers.

How very cognizant of your situation, Jedi, but if he can see me, I can see him just as clearly.

At this distance, it was unlikely he would be spotted enshrouded so by the shadow of the far corner of the room. However, that same benefit could not be said for the Alliance rifleman. Twiddling his aiming sight once more to zoom in on the man’s position, Kyros focused his targeting reticle on the bridge of his nose, contorted at that moment with his squinted eyes to scour for troop positions. He took a breath out, quieting his agitated muscles and holding the rifle with a steady precision few in the galaxy could rival. He hardly noticed the actual pull of the trigger; for one as well-practiced as he, the weapon was but an extension of his body and to him, it seemed that the DXR-6 obeyed his very thoughts.

There was a soft but high-pitched whine that rose in pitch in Kyros' right ear, betraying the mechanism as Tibanna gas was moved into the firing chamber from the magazine and converted into intense, high-energy plasma. This plasma manifested as a powerful sunburst of energy capable of piercing the hull of a starship with ease that burst from the muzzle of his rifle with a surprisingly unclimactic zap and seared its radiant, burning passage through the air at or very near the speed of light. The beam consisted of disruptive, nonharmonic pulses of energy designed to break apart matter at the atomic level. It sizzled and scintillated across the distance between Kyros and his mark in much less than an instant, intent upon literally reducing to ash the first surface it met.

 

[Prancing Yawn]

"I sense it too.." Cat calmly said, as if he had heard his master's thought about the Force users. There was most certainly atleast one. Cat was unsure if there were any more. As the sniper had layed down in his position, it was likely he had been spotted by the enemy guards, but he would certainly be out of range. That would not be the case for any enemy sniper. Cat unclipped a small pair of binoculars from his utility belt, and scanned the high expanse of bars and catwalks that was more nearer to the ceiling. If there were any snipers, they would be there. Definitely.

His left eyebrow jumped up. Something irregular, he had spotted. The.. strangest twitching of skin. It almost looked like a tentacle. Waved about for nothing more than a few seconds, and then retracted itself. The biology of the sniper? Or just a strange underground creature? He had certainly seen many strange animals above-ground on Konstallen.

Anzati?


A bolt! Heading for the sniper! They had been spotted. No time to waste, now. Soon the shooting would begin.

"Get down!"

As the blaster bolt rumbled forward, on a course for the sniper's head, Cat, on instinct, thrusted his palm forward over the trooper's head and from his hand propelled a Force Deflection, intended to redirect the bolt back to its firer. Hopefully it would be enough to spark some more noticeable movement in the shooter.

SOMEBODY had to make the first move.

 

[Matt]

''Well that didn't go quite to plan''

Christian turned and looked around him, there was nothing but smooth metal here and that wasn't much use. The walkway they would take was most likely bobby trapped if these mercenaries were worth anything and the walkways were covered by a sniper...A very good sniper who had just fired a near impossible shot.

However, Christian had a habit of coming up with rather odd ideas that might come off. He activated his blade and jumped up off the ground, he was up against one of the flat metal surfaces and he plunged his blade into the metal and let himself naturally fall down as the metals resistance gave way to the blade energy.

He did this again about ten feet across then slashed across the metal about ten feet high several times until they joined up and the same along the bottom.

He now had a fairly thick metal surface about ten by ten feet which fell out it's sides still smoking slightly but held it in place with the force and awkwardly moved it around facing towards the walkway they had chosen to use.

''Ok gentlemen, everyone get behind this. Cat you keep any projectiles away but we shall have to grit our teeth against any laser fire or bobby traps, hopefully we will make it but stay together, stay tight and keep behind the metal slab. Now no shoving as I'm sure you can't all wait!''

Christian smiled as he moved the slab forward....Towards the walkway into the open.

 

[Xyrael]

The Dark Jedi had spotted the shot from his comrade-sniper, watching the stream of energized particles lance out to an area of the colossal room. Several moments later, a suspiciously large, floating slab of duracrete began approaching him.

Well, this Jedi isn't the subtle type, Jae Rall thought to himself with a sneer, half surprised the Jedi had proved him wrong about assaulting his position with dirty tricks. This would be most amusing.

He began pacing the room, letting his wrath consume him, his teeth grit tight and his jaws twitching, visions of destruction erupting like blossoming explosions in his mind. He just wanted to destroy, and soon he would have his chance. The turned his fiery gaze upon the two grunts standing guard outside. They, too, had been alerted by the floating block. They, no doubt, had recognized it was not a natural occurrence. But why hadn't they opened fire. Incompetent fools!

"Give them their pretty light show," he growled, pointing a finger at the Jedi and ordering the men to open fire. He didn't care what they shot at. He wanted to make sure the Jedi stayed behind that block, nice and condensed. Maybe these idiots might accidentally do something useful. Regardless, they are disposable. Jae Rall knew that venturing out there to meet the Jedi would be foolish, his comrade hadn't even bothered to inform him where the traps had been set up. Not that Jae Rall would have cared to listen anyways, such lowly tricks were beneath a man such as he.

 

[Ruri]

It was rather awe-inspiring at times to witness a Jedi in action. This was one of those times, as his disruptor bolt was not only stopped inches from its target, but was actually redirected a full 180 degrees. For the briefest of moments, his eyes blazed red from the light of the incoming burst, but with surprising grace Kyros managed to whip his head to the side, allowing the shot to miss him by scarcely a couple of centimeters. The lithesome smoothness of the act kept him from even having to djust his position on his girder. Carrying on unhindered, the shot splashed against the wall behind him and literally vaporized a large portion of it, sending the pieces slowly spiraling downward as particles of dust and ash.

The assassin did not immediately return his eye to the targeting scope. His left hand, cradling the stock of the disruptor rifle, relaxed a bit and allowed the muzzle to drop several centimeters. He was growing uncomfortable on his heels, and let his left knee sink onto the metal support beam beneath him while the other knee rose up to help support the rifle. For a long moment, he merely gazed in the direction of the Jedi and thought to himself, a cold but tranquil look smoothing his countenance. During this time, the aggressors sliced a large portion of durasteel out of the walls and began pushing it slowly towards them, using it as cover from his sniper fire. Clever enough, but he was cleverer still. Kyros merely needed a few scant moments to take stock of the situation.

The small Galactic Alliance force had entered the cavern through the passage that led onto the network of walkways radiating out from the control center like a spider web. Beneath, all that separated them from a horrible, scalded death in the molten slag pit was some air and the heat-shielded bridges, which he had booby trapped. He had to admit that he had expected them to enter down there, and thus their primary route to the control center was well-fortified. However, they had entered above on the thinner but marginally safer catwalks. Somewhat irritating, but not at all debilitating to his battle plan. Perhaps the most annoying thing about it was the sheer volume of the horrid scraping noise that the piece of durasteel made as it scraped, inch by inch, onto the walkway and towards the control center. None of the aggressors so much as dared to peek out from behind it.

Perhaps if he had a sense of humor, Kyros would have chuckled to himself. As it was, though, he was already tired of this dull engagement and wanted to end it quickly. His rogue Jedi ally down below ordered his troops to open fire, but there was little chance they’d be able to pierce solid durasteel with such low-grade weaponry before the Jedi got close enough to act. He sent a ripple, a nudge, through the energies surrounding him to tell his own pair of rifleman to hold their fire until they saw the flesh of the enemy. They were not in the best angle to be shooting anyway, as their shots would strike the walkway beneath the group instead. He let the others try, though, and just calmly watched the slab, perhaps 3 meters square in size, approach with its horrible screech now partially drowned out by the sound of an endless rain of blaster bolts splashing off of it. They left burn marks and small craters, but no holes.

His disruptor rifle just might do a bit more, though.

Brushing the auburn locks from his eyes, Kyros calmly raised his rifle once more and peered through the aiming sight. For a moment, he centered the scope right on the durasteel slab, but then he twitched the muzzle downward. There was a good chance his rifle could at least punch a hole in the slab, but he had a better idea.

And so, with another rising whine that indicated it was about to fire, the DXR-6 released another lethal, conflagrant shaft of light that lanced not at the metal, but at the walkway in front of it. Another bolt quickly followed it for good measure, bringing the running count ticking down in Kyros’ head to seven blasts remaining on this clip. The two beams lanced towards the walkway, where they were much less likely to be deflected by any show of Force might. Additionally, though the walkway was a sturdy load-bearing structure, it was not designed to endure having massive chunks ripped out of it by disruptor beams. Allowing the beams to strike would most definitely cause the section of the walkway with the Jedi on it to collapse, strained as it already was in supporting the massive metal slab in addition to the entire team.

Throughout this, Kyros kept a hawkish eye for any sign of exposure from behind the slab. Such exposure would cause him to direct his next shot at it as fast as the rifle would allow him to fire.

 

[Prancing Yawn]

"Steady, men, steady. As long as we're behind this slab, we're as good as a tank - good thinking on that, Master."

They inched along at a slow but sure rate, and it was definitely a good feeling to be behind that slab. Even as the guards released as storm of lasers on them, Cat felt quite secure. There was no way mere infantry rifles would break the moving shield.

Another presence in the force. Much more faint than the previous one. He couldn't tell if it was Light or Dark - likely neither. But there was still somebody up there, watching them, who could feel Cat, and feel Christian. He took a bit more caution in his steps on the catwalk after he felt it.

BLAM! BLAM!

The two disruptor blasts fired by Kyros hit their targets head-on, blowing into oblivion a small stretch of walkway which the fireteam was standing on. Cat felt himself falling.

"HANG ON!" Cat yelled out, and quickly jumped over one of the troopers and, focusing the Force around him and inside of him all into his torso, hit the slab head-on. The slab fell over the opening created by the disruptor blasts, effectively destroying any chance of safety from the slab, but also effectively destroying the chance of falling to a fiery death. He helped the team's medic to his feet, who had stumbled backwards when the walkway bursted from the disruptor blasts.

Now, they were out in the open, and a barrage of lasers and bullets would be flying towards hem in seconds.

"We would've had to drop that thing later on anyway! Come on, we've got to get to the control center! Fire on the windows!"

The medic and another trooper ran behind Cat, who was charging at the control center, dodging and rolling inbetween the blaster bolts - there was nothing else they could really do, either sit on that duracrete slab and get blasted to death, or charge and have a fighting chance. Cat hoped his master would be able to keep up.

The medic focused his fire on the windows and the guards inside them, who were in turn firing at the fireteam. Cat, who had caught a quick millisecond of a glimpse at the disruptor bolts travelling to their target of the walkway, pointed in the direction he believed the sniper was, and where he also believed the other Force user was. The other trooper behind Cat focused his barrage in that direction, hoping to finally draw him out of hiding.

 

[Matt]

''Cat, remind me to strike you on the head with my lightsaber when I get a chance''

He shouted this after his padawan as he had been left alone on the walkway holding the slab but he couldn't help but laugh a little, his padawan hadn't thought twice about leaving Christian but the mission came first.

Obviously he thought Christian would be alright but still, duty came first and Christian was proud of him. Christian kept the slab on the walkway and edged forward ever so slightly, thy thing he could only thing he could really do was try to cause a distraction for the others as they made for the control room.

He used the force to lift the slab off the deck about a millimeter as he edged forward towards the control centre but the centre was not his goal, he was going for these horrible rouges shooting at him.

The walkway however was shoot up rather badly but it wasn't taking the weight of the slab anymore luckily but it was however taking Christian weight and it didn't seem like it would hold at all...There was nothing for it but for Christian to rush...and hope because he didn't fancy coming out in the open just yet.

 

[Xyrael]

Jae Rall used the Force to quickly snatch the poor fool he had patted before, using him as a veritable shield from whatever stray blaster fire might come across him. He began to mutter, cursing the involvement of soldiers and their infernal blasters. Why couldn't he have the pleasure of cutting the Jedi's throats himself. "Fire more, damnit!" Rall shouted at his minions from behind the flailing and screaming civilian. Other workers turned in horror from the cover of their computer screens as a stray blaster round penetrated the hostages hand, who in turn stared at the blackened hole in abstract horror. "Keep working or it'll be you next!" he howled at the fools.

He had to vent his anger, which had threatened to consume him completely. He began to slowly strangle the screaming fool before him, taking pleasure in his suffering, fueling his strength with the man's fear. Around him, his two idiots continued to hide behind cover, using it effectively to form a fire base from which to unleash a veritable storm of deadly red blaster fire. The only thing keeping them from unleashing absolute hell was the simple fact that they were wasting ammunition to please their master; they had more than enough to use until they died, however, much to Jae Rall's wicked pleasure.

 

[Ruri]

With the deafening slam of durasteel crashing down on like kind, the slab fell over the massive hole gutted out of the center of the walkway, which was now only just barely still connected rather than being sliced clean in half. Now exposed to the endless barrage of blaster-fire, the padawan shouted something to his men and sprinted for the control center, while his master stayed behind and used his superior telekinetic prowess to hold the slab himself, keeping its weight off of the walkway. This was fortunate, as even without the fallen durasteel shield, the walkway was swaying dangerously and threatened to completely fall apart at any moment.

Kyros looked upon this scene through the scope of his weapon as if it were in slow motion, relatively satisfied with the results. Although his intent had indeed been to send all six men falling to a painful, fiery death, as it was they were now completely exposed to blaster-fire from all four of their men. Kyros’ riflemen had now opened fire, and with their blasters added to those of the other two, the air around the aggressors had transformed into a fiery maelstrom of blaster bolts. Frankly, it absolutely shocked Kyros that absolutely none of them were gunned down immediately after the slab’s fall, but it mattered little. With their position utterly exposed and being forced to charge on an entrenched position, fired upon by four men who were all behind cover not to mention his sniper fire as well as the rogue Jedi’s actions, their fate was utterly sealed.

As the older Jedi was not moving and focused on the exertion of maintaining his telekinetic hold on the slab, Kyros quickly zeroed in on him as an immediate target. His weapon unleashed two more whines and accompanying blazing shafts of light, both of which were aimed not at the Jedi’s head, but at his legs and feet. The reasons behind this were simple enough. A disruptor rifle would reduce its target to ash upon contact regardless of where it hit, so aiming for the head was rather moot. Furthermore, a Jedi would have considerably more difficulty blocking bolts at his feet with a lightsaber, especially so encumbered by the slab. Lastly, bolts that missed would more than likely hit the walkway beneath him instead, which would be enough to send him to his doom in the slag pits beneath. Unless he were to fall on the bridges just above the surface, which were booby-trapped. Kyros fired two bolts in case the Jedi somehow used the slab to block. The first would pierce the durasteel, and the second would shoot through it.

Kyros only had time for two shots, however, as one of the riflemen below aimed a spray of blaster fire in his direction. Because the man was in a full run (stopping would surely mean instant death), his shots could hardly be considered accurate and few found themselves actually aimed true. The Anzat threw his rifle down to hang once more on its bandolier at his back and leapt to the side, causing the bolts to splash against the wall behind him as his deflected bolt had. More bits of the wall went tumbling down through the network of support beams as Aurion lithely ran across his girder, but one stray blaster bolt managed to find him once more. In a desperate attempt to avoid it, Kyros twisted his body and allowed himself to fall from his perch, missing the particle beam by mere centimeters.

For the briefest of instants, the Anzat was in free fall. However, almost immediately, his left hand lashed out and his fingers found the lower lip of the I-beam on which he had previously stood, arresting his fall but dangerously dangling him over a spider-web of similar beams beneath. Kyros gritted his teeth in exertion, his eyes taking on a feral yellow gleam with the thrill of combat. Casting his gaze downward and finding a beam perhaps three meters below his feet, the assassin let himself fall and managed to land nimbly on the lower girder. Spreading his feet in a ready position and reaching for his DXR-6 to continue the onslaught, the assassin knew that he was now a bit more visible, but considering the veritable hailstorm of blaster bolts around the Galactic Alliance soldiers, their attention would doubtless be elsewhere.

Such was indeed the case, as Kyros watched one last support beam finally giving way under the relentless damage from the stray blaster fire. The walkway snapped in half where the disruptor bolts had struck it, the ends swaying away from each other and collapsing in two different directions with terrible, screeching sounds of metal snapping like twigs in a hurricane. Both halves tumbled into the burning abyss of the slag pit, with or without its former occupants...

((OOC: It sucks. I’m sorry. I’m in a huge hurry but I wanted to knock this out. I’ll edit later and make it better.))

 

[Prancing Yawn]

"That would hurt considerably, Master!" the young Padawan yelled at Christian without looking back, still sprinting towards the control center at the fastest speed possible. He was starting to produce quite a bit perspiration, and swipe his hands through his bangs to wipe some of it out of his eyes. Faltering in his speed would be deadly - any number of bolts were speeding towards him and his two troopers every millisecond. The troopers themselves were also running as fast as they could - which was not as fast as Cat since they couldn't utilize the force - but they still used all their strength and willpower.

Cat did his best to dodge, whirl and roll through the barrage, and his body never stopped moving. He was dancing, and the bolts were his partner. He intended to lead this dance.

He was nearing the center now. A few more yards. One of his troopers took a blast in the forearm, and only slowed down for a second, but he was no longer able to fire his rifle, so slung it over his neck and kept shooting with his sidearm, while he searched for a bacta shot to apply to his forearm.

CREAK.. CREAK..
"Uh.. oh,"
Cat looked back to notice the walkway that they had just crossed a few seconds ago was slowly creaking down into the fiery depths of molten slag. Many disruptor bolts and laser barrages had amounted to.. collapsing.

"KEEP RUNNING!"
But it was no use. Cat felt himself falling into the thin air below him, letting out a voiceless gasp.

He looked down to see the pool of molten death getting closer by the millisecond. No time to act now.. he was about to die in seconds, and his two men would, too.

"GRAPPLING CABLES OR WE'RE BURNT!" he yelled out, perspiration bathing his face as the heat grew closer. He scrambled to find the pouch on his utility belt that contained the multipurpose cable, which his life now depended on. Finally finding it in the smallest of compartments, the two soldiers also recovering theirs, Cat whirled it over his head a few times before releasing it at the support beams above him. The magnetized arrowhead type tip would ensure it would latch on to atleast something.. hopefully. The soldier and medic did the same.

Cat's cable found it's mark, wrapping around a support beam several times before the magnetic tip stuck to the beam. Ah.. the safety of a cable. But he couldn't hang over that slag pit forever. His hands were slowly slipping little by little, and he had to get on a solid surface. Cat began swinging back and forth, building momentum to release himself. His soldiers instinctively did the same.

Bolts began hitting his cable, though it was moving. It started to thin little by little; but still not discouraging Cat, who still built momentum for a huge leap into the control center.

Believing he had enough swing to accomplish the daring maneuver, Cat finally let go of the cable, just as a disruptor bolt fractured the seam, sending it slowly sizzling into the sea of lava. As he fell towards the control center, Cat caught a glimpse of the elusive sniper, who was just five or six bars away from the one his cable had latched on to.

The young Padawan tumbled through the weak glass, a glass shard cutting his hand, bloodying his fistwraps. A bolt pierced his left shoulder as he rolled into a kneeling. It was the first time he had been shot by a real, live bolt. It felt.. strange. But Cat was a Jedi Knight. Atleast, he would be soon. Gritting his teeth, Cat locked his gaze on one of the guards, who was still shooting at Christian and the other two troops. Thrusting his right palm forward, Cat casted a Force Push at the guard, intent on defeating one of the three defenders.

The two troops crashed through the windows moments later, locking pistol and rifle on the darksider and the other guard. One of them took a blast in the side of his chest, dropping to his knees but continuing to fire. The medic tossed him a bacta stimshot, then delivered six blasts from his rifle at the second guard. At that close of a range, they were likely to be lethal.