Rescue Me - Zebitrope IV Mission Of Mercy

[Rev]

Illusia stood in silence, basking in the rooms eerie chill. The Force ached as vibrations through the room itself pulsed with lingering fatalities. She would inhale that cold air and close her eyes, the Force speaking to her in soft whispers like a mother preaching a lullaby. It was then her Padawan's words entered her often closed mind, the harsh command of her otherwise warm friend bringing a frown to her face. Pulling the hood from it's resting place at her back she would again shroud her face in its shadow. Zebitrope IV went still in that moment, and that alone would bring a smile to the former Jedi's face. Dropping to her knees she would hold in the deep breath she took falling into a meditation.

Her Padawan approached with each passing second, and so did another in the Order, a high piece. Allowing her focus to reach outward she sensed their very connection to the Force, one struggling in the maze of tunnels while the other a more straight forward approach. Anger was in her belly, Illusia could feel it. Confusion too would come at a cost, a pit of rage too inside of Darix, whether or not the Battlemaster would admit it, his winding path was no easy one. Sensing her former Padawan's near approach Aÿisha Remy would stand from her meditation and gaze upon the Jedi her Padawan had become; bloody and all.

"Halo, I did not expect to see you so soon.."

She would open her arms to her former pupil and take a few short steps at the girl. Aÿisha deep down knew there was no way the girl would come forward and embrace her, that connection, that friendship had been lost when the Sith had taken her. Smiling out at the girl, it was the hiss of Lightsaber blade that would 'catch' the Sith Lord off guard.

Turning to face the Jedi Battlemaster, Illusia held her arms out openly, appearing passive in nature. The words which followed brought a frown to the woman's face and a subtle shake of her head. This was not her doing, this was not her fault. Typical in a Jedi's nature to cast such judgement so quickly. Looking to Halo she'd speak to her friend as she had years ago.

"This is who you ally yourself with, old friend?"

Frowning at her Padawan she would back away from the girl, looking at the two blades of the Jedi Orders most proficient of blademasters. This would be no easy task, but she had to do what must be done.

"Put it to a Jedi to draw his blade first..."

Her eyes would narrow on the Jedi Master, taking in everything the famous man had to offer. There were countless tales of his many battles and adventure, she had believed half of it in her time as a Jedi, as war was not common and the Order would never truly acknowledge such ways. She had looked up to the elder man as a girl, just as her former Master had. Reaching to her left hip a unique blade of her own would come to her hand, a staff hilt. The double beamed blade wouldn't come to life, merely rest in the Darth's palm. Exhaling a breath into the tensing air she'd break the stale silence.

"Your move Battlemaster."

 

[Damien Nightblade]

The twin blades within his hands sizzled and cracked within his grasp. Shattering the veil of silence that had fallen over the room. The force itself had a turbulence about it. The once still tranquil pools of energy had become restless rapids, violently thrashing and churning about, the beings standing immovable within its currents.
Darix affixed his eyes to the woman who stood before him, arms wide and withdrawn as if she were drawing him closer, a measure of embrace if he had known no better. The aura she cast was one eerily familiar to him, he had sensed it first below within the tunnels as she spoke, though he could not place the sense of comfort he found deep within it until now, as he made his approach.
The Jedi stepped over the dead body of another officer. Eyes scanning the room he took note of the various other carcasses and weapons scattered about in equal proportions.
A step brought him closer to Illusia, another still and his revelation crossed the threshold into realization when he concluded that the familiarity she possessed was echoed and bred into her former Padawan. Dark brown eyes shifted their gaze from the carnage at his feet to the beauty of Haloburner Lamb. He forced away his thoughts and feelings on the matter. The brilliant Jedi his friend had been pupil to and had followed into the light for so many years was not the same woman that stood before them.
Aiysha Remy had not slaughtered Zebitrope IV's finest and allow them to lay and rot on the floor beneath her feet. She was not the one who had harvested children for her own twisted desires and credit mongering gains. These acts, she would have thought unspeakable. Everything they had witnessed this day, was at the hand of Darth Illusia. Though she spoke only of her own innocence.

"This is who you ally yourself with, old friend?"

Illusia's words a verbal strike at the Jedi's stern demeanor. Her words gave weight to the blades within his hands, he could feel the gravity they held within that moment. Her own weapon, held outstretched and ready though still in its passive state. Some years ago he would have eagerly killed her where she stood, following his orders through to fruition and returned to lose not a wink of sleep. However he stood before her a different man. ShadowOne remained dormant within him, and he would ensure that he remained there now. She was not merely another of his targets. She was a Dark Lord, and beyond that, a direct intravenous line to the heart and soul of Haloburner Lamb.
He swallowed. Forcing down the emotion that he no longer denied was churning within him. The very creed by which the Jedi operated cycling through his mind, the subconscious guidance it provided a comfort, if only a slight one.

"You could have surrendered. Spared their lives, saved them! Yet you condemned them to a fate that was not theirs to bare.."

The weapons within his grasp silenced, and died with his anger. Replaced by compassion and an attempt to understand, to reach out. To redeem that which has fallen so far. He would not play the assailant. Not here, in the audience of Halo and Mordin, of all the children they had come here to free from that very carnage. He refused to be the one to expose them to any further trauma.

"This is not the way. You have the opportunity to surrender, to resurface the good, kind person that was lost...drop the weapons, come with us. There are still those who long for your company, to feel your touch again, your words of guidance...end this..Illusia"

 

[Rev]

The faint hum of the Battlemaster's blades only intensified the already heavy air. His words muffled by mask would strike no ill cord with the Sith, she had been plagued by the dark side for longer than most had and petty deaths had long past brought her guilt. Not since the atrocities she committed. Taking a step at the Jedi as the beams of light withdrew from existence she'd shout back at her 'judge.'

"Their fate was their own, Talohn! Do not put their lives on me! They struck first, cast by your hand!"

She in truth had acted in defense, they had no proof any of this was on her. None of the crimes commited were in fact by her hands, the Hutts had come to the Empire with an offer. An offer that she as a ranking Sith official was assigned to watchover, and nothing more. Every other employee on the rock was of Hutt connection, the Empire merely got a cut of the profit.

"We all cannot hide behind a mask for the crimes we have committed."

Her eyes stared at the elder Jedi. She'd heard some of the darker stories that remained hidden behind closed doors, away from the younglings and Padawan's ears and eyes. Squeezing the metal hilt which itched to come to life she could feel the mixed emotions within herself growing and swirling in a fluster of chaos. Haloburner to her right, and one of the most notorious Jedi within the Order and that the Galaxy had to offer in front of her. The silence within the air only lasted a moment as the Battlemaster urged her back to the light, his words causing an awkward lone laugh to escape her lips. His words held truth, and her reaction only pain, sadness, longing..

"..That girl died with the Jedi who fell on Tanaab, and so rose exactly what you see before you. Power. And more than that, Truth. You have felt the darkside.. You know what it is capable of.."

Straightening her arms she'd step forward, the dark cloak which draped over her slender form falling to the death dwelling floor below. Narrowing her eyes on Darix she took in a deep breath of the still air before speaking to what she felt was the last thing she truly cared about.

"Stay out of this, Halo."

Bending her knees the Force would aid in the push which inevitably followed. Lifting off the floor her own body would cut the distance between herself and Darix in a blink. Gripping the staff at the top with her left hand and the lower with her right the crimson beams would spark to life. The final result was a momentous chop at the Battlemaster's right clavicle inward towards his stomach. A death blow in hopes of cutting the man in two.

 

[Damien Nightblade]

Her voice. It found its way within Darix and made itself comfortable among countless memories and actions that shaped history for the Jedi. The man that stood among them had single handedly shaped the days and carved away at unknown space in order for the Jedi to exist as they had today. Even though every moment he had spent in the far reaches had been for a purpose, for a 'greater good' he could not deny the accusations of hiding. Though he did so in order to protect. To keep clean the hands of the Jedi Order and himself as blood soaked hands and hungered blade fought their way through any and all who opposed them. The seeds of fear that she had planted within him however, were of the possibility that perhaps, it was himself he was hiding from. Guarding the galaxy from the man who now considered the armor a part of him. The faceless shield that defined him by his actions, rather than his thoughts and beliefs.

She was upon him. Top side of the saber staff searing downwards towards his right clavicle when it was met with the ignition of violet between them, parrying the blow.
The dark eyes of the Battlemaster locked gazes with the Sith Illusia as they both could only accept the immeasurable outburst of violence that was about to transpire.
Locked blades cracked and singed the air between them, the fire within the hearts of the warriors ablaze with fury, the suns of the planet within chests.

The tension between them was severed by pure energy as weapons of Jedi and Sith erupted and collided a multitude of times between the two, each parrying and exchanging blows. One always able to answer the call of the other as they tested one another in these preliminary stages of combat. A defensive maneuver allowed the two a distance of separation.

"Then perhaps, this will make you see reason.."

Sapphire and Violet moved in concert as he flourished and closed the remaining distance between them. Violet in his right hand cross cut at the chest of the Sith while Sapphire moved on a diagonal axis starting from her left. aimed to sever the left shoulder down to the midsection from her body.

 

[Rev]

Confusion was a weapon unlike any other. To plant a seed of evil and allow it to manifest into such chaos was the very essence of the Sith. It was the very essence of Illusia herself. The dormant 'frost' chilled air had once lingering with the taint of death and pain had become something more.. Something unique. Between the two an explosion of emotion lay in wait, ready to be called upon by either fighter. She could sense his struggle not only through the light vibrations the Force let off from the Jedi Master, but from the very way the true warrior fought now.

"..Unleash yourself, Talohn! Break the shackles which hold your true self back, Battlemaster!"

It was in that moment the two would split, the Sith staring down the Jedi who gazed back upon her. Her eyes narrowed on the mask which hid his face, the very symbol which the man was known for. She would take in a deep breath, soaking in the energy it held within as little as it was. It had been some time since she'd truly used her blade, she dared fall back as far as Tanaab to recall of wielding it. Flourishing her own weapon as the Jedi approached she spun the hilt between her hands, carving into the floorboards below with each methodical spin. It was about timing for her now, holding the saber diagonally in front of herself she'd tuck her body and roll with the scissoring attack. The result was the same saber twist she'd flourished, but only to fan both the Jedi's blades away from her body as she again distanced herself from Darix.

"..You are the one without reason, Darix. My Master told me stories of you, running into the dark, never returning the same!"

She paused for only a moment, backing up and extending her reach on the Force outward. The bulbs which illuminated the gym itself bursting like magic in an explosion of spark and fire. It'd take only a moment for the room to fall completely dark, the reminder of a remaining officer filling the darkness which they found themselves quietly in. His screams of agony still carried out at losing both hands, or perhaps it was the loss of his friends. Whatever it was, that dark manifestation grew outward from his center core.

"..your very being sends repercussions through the Order! Younglings look up to you!"

She'd drop her front foot back, falling into a defensive stance. Her voice would fall quiet, that same pain her voice felt moments before returning.

"I looked up to you."

She'd smile, the red glow illuminating her face just enough for Talohn to see it. Again reaching outward she'd grasp onto the screaming man, his body entrapped withing the tentacles of the Force. His cries would again rush over the room, the sound almost deafening this time around as he knew his life was near the end. Lifting his body off the ground she'd throw the crippled officer directly at Darix's center, hoping to knock the Force User off balance.

 

[Damien Nightblade]

He ignored the seeds of doubt and confusion Illusia had cleverly planted within him. He shut them down within himself, doing his best to lock them away. Though his grasp of the force, of combat only forced him to recall the very feelings he had been forced to repress. Such was the way of the Sith, to manifest themselves, their thoughts, their will within the mind of an opponent, and in turn force them to destroy themselves. Darix would have none of it.

"You mistake inhibition for control...Ayisha Remy!"

A skillful spin of her staff discarded the dual strike of the Jedi Master, blades singing only the air between them. He pressed forward upon her, slowly he strode with all the purpose and intent of the one who had taken the lives of many to preserve countless. The distance between them was a void within the room. The force itself seemingly vacant from the blank space, as it gravitated to the two warriors, planets to the countless stars that surrounded them.

"I returned life! Freedom! What has your reign brought Aiysha? loss, suffering! The Aiysha I knew was a stronger being than that.."

Darkness fell upon the room, and he felt at home. Surrounded by a veil of unlimited opportunity that had allowed him the lives of countless foes, though in the presence of Illusia, an equal playing field.
Only energy illuminated the room. Twin beams of Sith crimson clashing and mixing with his own violet and sapphire. The once beautifully lit room now became a light show of death and despair. Though the two had become accustomed to such things.
Glass shattered and fell upon the occupants, raining down upon them shards of heated however fragil shrapnel, littering the floor beneath them with sharpened remains of bulbs turned to rubbish at the hand of the Sith. He could feel it. The outburst of energy coupled with an agonizing scream as the body of the officer fortunate enough to maintain possession of his life was flung helplessly towards him.
He responded with his own. Though to retaliate directly would undoubtedly crush the man between the vice of their combined power. He pulled the man toward him. and sidestepped as he approached, deafening screams of pain flew past the Jedi as the force cushioned his decent to the floor below reducing it to a mere stumble, nothing he couldn't withstand after what he'd already been trough.

She was an interesting opponent Illusia. Using her mental aptitude in an attempt to toy with and distract the Jedi from being able to fully apply his focus to their hostile negotiations.

"Neither living soul nor archived lore can tell of my actions. I am nothing less then Jedi!"

The mere thought of the effects his actions would have upon the Order if any of his prior engagements revealed themselves posessed every moment of sleep the Jedi could manage to attain. It was this very reason that he had to remain the faceless warrior of light he had become. The icon, the symbol.

"I looked up to you!"

He froze in his tracks. Halted by the power of voice, the words they projected, the sentiment behind them. Another trick of the Sith Illusia, living up to her name?
the two opposing souls stared into one another, he searched her, trying to locate the true depths from which she spoke in order to understand.

"I wish it so Ayisha...though what you have become echos the emptiness of your words..It never needed to come to this. We never needed to find ourselves here!
We are Jedi Ayisha! open your eyes! Does everything that you've lived for mean so little? Do I? Does She!?"

 

[Rev]

The Jedi Master's willpower was strong, but she could feel it slowly bending at her every action. The emotions, inner-workings, and past that Darix so strongly repressed lurched to the surface, if only for a second. The 'breath' of air he took riddled with darkness echoed outward from the blademaster's very center; the momentary out pour a beacon to the dark energy the Jedi so wished to ignore.

"..You returned as a shell of what you once were. A husk shrouded in more darkness than the evil you oppose! I bring truth where the Jedi falter. You hide behind your mask of deceit and murder!"

Sensing the man she threw be caught in Darix's gentle web brought the Sith into a full sprint at the Jedi. Their blades again exchanging in a flurry of blocks, parries, and failed counters. With each swing a new rainbow would form in the mix of colors. To an outsider the battle would appear nothing more than a laser light show, but to the two 'inside' the ring each motion brought chance at life or death.

"You forget your past, Battlemaster, and you're sure to repeat it!"

Swiping at the man's leg he'd narrowly step over it before a blast of Force energy would space the two out yet again. The narrow space of the room the only barrier from separating the two from killing one another. The man's mask muffled voice would explode outward and Aÿisha would be forced to listen. Just as Illusia had frozen Talohn in his tracks, the man had done the same to her. The two locking sight for what felt like centuries, it was in that moment of calm she felt the Jedi trying to get inside her, trying to find truth from fiction. It was then the already dense mental barriers would rise into place. Darix's words the only thing from completely stopping the Sith Lord from continuing the assault.

"But we have found ourselves here, Master!"

She'd shout back at the man, his words just as hollow as her own. They were on two separate ends of a vast table, and neither seemed willing to give an inch. Holding the weapon a little tighter in her hands she'd allow the words he spoke to settle within her mind, each one weighing more on her than the last. It was the mention of her own life meaning so little that would bring the woman to an abrupt laughter.

"..You fail to see, old friend. I lost that life on Tanaab."

Her words were cold, as barren as the darkness that she shouted into. The only visible sight of the Jedi she faced coming from the weapons he carried, and the same for him on her. Staring blankly into that black vacuum which surrounded them it was the mention of 'she' that snapped the Sith from her daze. If the man could see the beast he had awoken within Aÿisha Remy's eyes he'd know it was time to leave. The emotion which sat within the stomach of the woman grew without warning. Rage, anger, and hate the most dominant of emotions that the Jedi before her would feel first. To attempt to use her own Padawan against her was a threat she did not take lightly.

The pool of energy which started in Illusia's core swirled outward. The stockpile of dark emotion rushing up her spine and to her left shoulder. The tingling sensation would escape even further, finally coming to the Darth's open left hand as tendrils of energy flashed into existence. As dark as the gymnasium had been the entire room would flare up with light, the bolts brighter than any man-made light Zebitrope IV had ever offered. The storm would outreach with unnatural ability and control, the Force containing the massive display of power in a 'cone.' The massive wave of electric current would be targeted at Talohn's chest, her hopes simply being to land the powerful attack on the deadly blademaster.

 

[Damien Nightblade]

It was as if the elements of the universe were mere tools at their disposal.
The oxygen within the room instantly ionized and erupted with the power of the lighting that swam its way toward the Battlemaster like a beast to its prey.

The room, once darkened and shrouded from existence in the wake of the ferocious battle that took place within, illuminated more brightly than the weapons of pure energy the warriors held within their tightening grasps. A damaging luminescence filled the room within a matter for fractional moments as an intricate, starving web of electric death shot forth from Illusia's open hand towards the Jedi master.

The officer on the ground, whom had previously thought himself physically unable to scream any further found himself sorely mistake as fear and disbelief overtook him.
Adding to the chaos that the room had developed into.

Darix had given himself to the force. He no longer wished to be the deciding hand of the Jedi, nor a part of the unyielding energy field that he had come to embrace and use as a tool for his own intent. He surrendered himself into it. His mind blank, no longer in possession of thought or feeling, instead he became it. And allowed it to move for him. He himself, become its tool, its weapon.
Violet and Sapphire crossed tightly and extended out in front of him in an attempt to take the brunt of the blow. He had dealt with lightning before, he understood it, and even held his own knowledge of its use, however this was unlike anything he had previously experienced.

Lightsaber blades were met with unfiltered dark energy, a physical manifestation of Darth Illusia's intent. It hurt To feel electrocution was one thing, though it was not what he felt. Every ounce of him felt pure unadulterated hatred.
Force tuned battle armor heated instantly and scorched his flesh, the smell unmistakable, added to the variety of similar smells that blanketed the room when he first arrived, weapons at the ready.

It was this outburst, this passionate desire to remove all traces of his previous sentence from the Jedi's mouth, that Darix knew he had attained a victory. The battle raged on, and although his body damaged, he knew may continue on for far longer. Though within her action she had confirmed a certain minute almost untraceable truth that she held, tucked away deeply within her, much like his own.
Haloburner Lamb was all that was good in Aiysha Remy, and she loved her.

The events had taken place over the course of a few mere seconds, all woven together beautifully into a devastating attack against the Jedi, and he understood.
Then, he embraced it. Pain and passion released itself from within him, the Battlemaster allowing himself to indulge in the truth of his existence, the very defining unique qualities that had earned him the title to begin with.

The force caved to his will.

Sapphire spared and cracked within Darix grip as it fell to the ground, useless.
The resulting free left hand of the Battlemaster drew the elemental force within it, as if it had been his intent all along, he felt the energy within him, collecting and growing in power as a black hole when fed anything within its grasp, he concentrated it, accepted its power, then expelled it, returning the Sith's lighting back at her. The Storm of the Jedi.

 

[Rev]

With each passing second that the lightning was exposed to the open air, the more the very oxygen which the two took in seemed to dissipate. The heat expelling from each bolt enough to kill an unarmored foe in a matter of seconds. It was this static energy popping in the air around them that screamed power, it was the very essence of harnessing nature.

That heat carried a burden however, within each volt lay dark energy, Sith energy coupled to the very Force wielder herself. For each second it coursed through Darix's body was another moment for the very energy he hid within himself could attempt an escape. The smell which began to fill the room could only be compared to rancid flesh. How the man could embrace such pain with open arms and not fall to the strong call of the darkside was a testament to the man behind the mask. His will was far stronger than she had anticipated.

Then as suddenly as the tide had appeared to be on her side, it flipped. The Jedi she lashed out upon did something she could only react to with the same hope he had; survival. Lowering her hand from the casting electricity, she'd take hold of the staff, holding it wide to keep a solid foundation. What she was met with was unlike anything she'd ever felt. The same tingles which coursed down her arm moments before blistered up her arms with surprise and speed. The point of her blade would act as a lightning rod, the very energy he sent out dissipating into her hilt, but at a cost.

Her gloved hand's smoked as the weapon overcharged. Just as quickly as the attack had come, her weapon would be rendered useless. The weapon overheating as the internals sizzled with damage, the impact of the Storm bringing her to a stumble backwards. Hitting the activator on the weapon it would merely click, no life left inside; at least for the time being. Clipping the hilt to her hip a second blade would replace it, a simpler one. The lone purple beam would hiss to life as she again dropped into a defense.

"We can go at this all day, Darix.. Or we can settle this now."

She'd spit out the words as if they were the only option. The darkside had it's grasp on the woman, she was no more a pawn to it as the officers were to her earlier. Each breath brought with it a deeper exhale, she was getting tired, but still had more fight in her than anyone would assume to give the Darth. Her mind racing she began to plot what to do next. There had to be an end to this.

 

[Damien Nightblade]

"It would bring me no solace to put an end to you here Ayisha."

Those first words spoken were perhaps the most honest ones he would allow himself in the passing moments. Small fires and sporadic surges of electricity gave life to the dead room they had torn asunder.
A few short moments had spread out over what felt like hours of violence and destruction. Both of their shoulders weighed upon by the burden of irreparable damage and scarring of the building and its foundation, the people around them and their own hearts and souls.
Silence enveloped them; contested only by the now dull hum of lightsabers tested to their last. What was once a beautiful display of light and sound had now become a mere indigo wash of the room as it was bathed in the light of opposing weaponry.

Darix understood the damage he had taken, and could only imaging what he had inflicted, though in their position he expected neither of them to allow the other a moment of recuperation. He felt pain, muscles ached and micro spasmed as a result of the lighting attack he had taken, though in this moment he could not allow himself to focus on his wounds. Rather, putting an end to this, before the events transcended into something beyond either of their control. He cast the hilt aside, as he felt the surge of energy within it begin to falter, and fade.

 

[Rev]

The occasional shock of static would light up an area of the room only to snap to life elsewhere. At first hearing her foe's words the silence that followed would be answered by a light chuckle. She would bring her other hand to the hilt of her blade before grinding her palms into the rare metal, holding it tighter. The emotion swirling inside not only herself but the room fueled her every action. It was the subtle hum of their blades that would be the only sound to cover the awkward silence which stood between the two. Opening her mouth to speak, it was the suction of Darix's blade that would hold her sentence in its tracks.

"..Since when does solace govern your decisions? Let the dark en-..."

Her eyes went from Darix to the hilt which he cast aside. Focusing her vision on the lone tool of the Jedi she felt a surge of anger again rush over her. The confusion which swelled within her mind only clouding her vision with the rage it brought along. Shouting out at the Jedi who chose instead not to fight, she commanded him.

"GRAB YOUR LIGHTSABER, TALOHN!"

Her feet would cut the distance one hard step at a time. Pulling her own blade high above her head she was prepared to strike down on the Jedi Master with everything she had, but the blade would hold at its peak her eyes staring in question at the defenseless man. Keeping her hand held high her lone hand on the hilt squeezed it tighter, her hand shaking with nerves. With her left hand, her free hand, she would point at the Battlemaster, then to the hilt lying across the room.

"FIGHT ME! DRAW YOUR BLADE, YOU COWARD!! FIGHT!!!!"

The passion behind each world was only fueled by the countless emotions lingering in the air. She could feel the tear ducts in her eyes forming beads, not out of sadness, but purely out of anger. Using the tip of her saber to point at the Battlemaster, she'd allow the purple point to hover just inches from his robed chest. Trying her best to control her breathing she simply stared at the Jedi, staring and waiting..

 

[Damien Nightblade]

The Jedi stepped forward, inching nearer to the violet weapon until it crackled at the touch of his chest plate. His eyes remained fiercely locked upon Illusia, gazing through the faceless mask with a stare famed to pierce the veil of the force itself.

"Had either of us wanted to bring this to conclusion, it would have been so long ago"

The two had danced beautifully within the eye of the ethereal hurricane they had created. The force allowed them the ability to perform at a level neither of the two had yet to experience, nor had even begun to tread upon. Each merely sparring, practicing with each other, testing one another's newly attained knowledge and experience since their days at the temple when their rivalries were at their strongest. This was but a warm up. A precursor to the first of what would be countless more battles to follow, each more ruthless and devastating the former.

The foundation of the building shook and rumbled beneath the stress of the battle that had taken place within its man made walls. The limits of its construction seemingly taxed as deep groans added to the silence of the room accompanying the words of the two combatants. The floor beneath them and walls beside slowly began to crack and spider as the building in which they stood began to crumble around them.

Chunks of roofing gave in to gravity's pull as they crashed down onto the floor below. The situation grown ever more tense. Time now, was not within their control. His voice remained level and clear, filled with determination and unwavering desire to bring to light the darkness within her, within himself.

"Fate will decide our ends"

 

[Padmé]

(( To avoid godmodding, I did not mention Moridin, seeing as he is still trapped in the basement. I am assuming that he made it out after the events following transpired. (: ))


Both Lamb and the Battlemaster emerged from their perspective tasks only to encounter body parts and nearly expired one scattered around the gymnasium. Lamb’s senses and sight were both assaulted by the unpleasant scene. An air of fleeting, but yet strong sense of shame, confusion, and disgust filled the room. To her left stood her old master and friend; and to her right, her mentor, and companion. Both had a hand in shaping Lamb into the strong Jedi that stood today.

Words left her not; in fact she’d intentionally held her words and resolve. Bleeding knee and all, Lamb would walk not into Remy’s welcoming embrace, but rather into Darix. Seconds later, Lamb would retract from Talohn’s embrace. It was at that moment that Remy’s words would hit the female Knight-

"Stay out of this, Halo."

Now with blades drawn and an unjust duel to ensue, Halo was given no choice but to exit. Ever cautious and concerned for others well-being, Haloburner Lamb will again embrace the Battlemaster-Talohn. This time, leaving the man her last words of sorts, "Our singular purpose on Zebitrope IV is the children. Remember whose you are.” At that Lamb exited the eerie filled gymnasium knowing that one or both of the leaders she’d held such high regards for would perhaps meet their fate.

A symphony of blades bade the young woman farewell as she limped her way out of the gymnasium. Reaching down to her robe, Lamb would d o the next best thing for all- call in more authorities- while limping to the east wing of the orphanage. With more help on the way, the Naboo Knight felt relived enough to focus her attention on the slumbering children in kitchen. Shortly upon entering said room, Halo discovered her Padawan, children, and the expired body of Mr. Ttuh in their original position. Sheer desperation graced her Padawan's face. A quick count accounted for all 36 children Lamb had left hours ago; some sleeping in the director’s pool of blood, while the others merely had their backs to the concrete walls whiles yet sound asleep. The irony of it all hit the female Jedi Knight with a new jolt of indignation. A righteous one too.

A mild shake- akin to land quake- enveloped the east wing, signaling (in Lamb’s mind) the arrival of Zebitrope IV authorities. Unbeknownst to Lamb, her mentors- Talohn and Remy- had engaged in a deadly duel and now about to sink into gravity’s pull below the facility grounds. To Lamb, the pull Remy/Talohn would feel was merely the cause of the Twi’lek’s undoing hours ago- in the basement.

Moments later, the new set of armed Zebitrope IV authorities would surround the facility- both on land and in air- leaving zero chance for opposition. At last Operation Rescue on Zebitrope IV was drawing nigh. The illegal spice and other obscene activities at the orphanage would cease, and the children will finally attain a new hope.

 

[Rev]

Time had found a way to stand still in that moment. Seconds felt like minutes passing, the tension of the room finally breaking the room and foundation around the two Force wielders. Just as they had used their powers to create beautiful dance, they too used it to destroy. Hate driven eyes stared at the Jedi in front of her, and just as her eyes filled with emotion so did they swell with pigment. Hearing Darix speak only drove the woman deeper into madness, the purple beam which pressed against his armored chest only penetrated deeper.

"Then it is time I finally conclude this!"

As her power hand pushed on the hilt, still pushing the deadly beam deeper yet the Force would ripple outward; a warning.

"Fate will decide our ends."

Just as Talohn spoke the building above them quaked with unfamiliarity. Jutting from left to right the buildings top would split as durasteel beams fell with crumbling duracrete. Pulling her own blade from Talohn's chest just shy of striking flesh she extend her palm outward to her foe; an explosion of energy escaping at long last. The wave of Force Energy would crash into her former friend like a tidal wave finally meeting shore. The wave's powerful impact's intentions to take the Jedi away from the falling rock and roof. It would carry enough force to destroy the wall of the gym, sending the framework out into the open yard and anything with it to safety.

As time had ceased in that moment, it had continued everywhere else. The rock which fell from above halting for nothing; neither Jedi nor Sith immune to the laws of Zebitrope IV. As the rock slammed into the surface with thunderous sound, the 'beat' of Illusia's Life-Force flutter before suddenly coming to a stop; disappearing from existence. The explosive impact the duracrete made in the Orphanage's foundation would in no way match the sudden disappearance of Force Energy it echoed. Without the South walls foundation the roof held high above would collapse under itself, the building quaking under itself in a scene that could only be mirrored by a bombing. Much of the orphanage still stood, it was the gym alone that caved in, the once hardwood floor blanked it rubble. The shadow of dawn casting itself out over the dark building all while the cold night air began to chill the setting. A lone beam of light cast upon the Orphanage which stood in the devil's wake; what stood for the Jedi's doing on that day.

 

[Damien Nightblade]

His eyes did not leave Ayisha's as he felt the armor plating straped to his chest begin to melt away as she began to force her blade forward. He smiled, appreciating her unwavering belifs as she sided with darkness, with Sith, and again, betrayl.
The feelings that washed over him were not of pain, or fear, but understanding.

Darix Talhon understood as much as anyone could hope to, the gravity of fate. He understood that Ayisha Remy had been seduced by the darkside, though he knew that more than likely it was the darkness itself that had been seduced by Ayisha.
His friend, and fellow Jedi had not fallen, she had jumped headfirst into the possibility of a greater understanding of things, of the force, her life.

Waves of energy crashed upon him, though he did not feel the pure energetic burn of a Sith blade pierceing his chest, instead an overwhelming blanket of force that sent him flying backwards. Crashing through the wall behind him taking rubble and debris with him.
He stared up blankly at the Zebitrope IV's atmosphere, the once beautiful day had retreated into the night, replacing the suns radience with the moons lunar glow. Everything seemed so distant, the sounds the force, all of it.
He regonised emptiness as he felt a life force fade from existence, Illusias. Which brought about a whole series of additional questions and concerns.

The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins. Though in the heart of its strength lies its weakness, one lone candle is enough to hold it back.
Darix Talohn understood, as long as Illusia remained, as long as evil plagued the galaxy with selfishness and greed. He would have to be that flame, he would have to be eternal.

 

[Padmé]

((Short and mediocre post, but it'll have to do. Apologies for long delay.))


In the hours following the chaos, Knight Lamb- with the assistance of Zebitrope IV's authorities would round up all the suspects. In all about nine were caught, not including the dead facility director- Mr. Ttuh, or the other dead workers. It pained lamb to see what commenced as a simple routine visit escalated into a full blown arrest and destruction. Yet another testament- of sorts- alluding to the unmistakable direction available to those willing to bid the Will of the Force. It transcending, binding, and leading power, available to the hearing and willing.

Unlike the rest of the facility the east wing was the only section that sustained much physical damage. Thankfully, the sleeping children nearby were untouched. Shortly after the authorities accounted for all alleged suspects, Lamb (with the help of her Padawan) accounted for the surviving children.

Soon thereafter, Lamb would locate the rest of the Jedi team (minus Ayisha Remy), prepare a collaborative report for the Jedi council, and then head back home.


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