Ask Flashpoint Surface Pressure

[Soleil Altan]

Not counting Ithor, Soleil had no real experience in an actual warzone. He had volunteered out of necessity for the academy and everything, and he did want the experience. Hours in a warzone contributed greatly to prestige. Ambition and story did sometimes fall short of the hard reality, however. His higher scores got him assigned closer to the front to grind and sharpen him further toward being Sith.

Armor was literally required by orders, so he was garbed in the lightest generic variant of an Imperial Sith uniform he could get his hands on, curly locks pomaded down. He and others were assigned to the back and forth fighting on Denon. It hadn't started off well. The landing zone, too close to enemy lines, had been struck by artillery. Soleil had already disembarked by then, but it hadn't done any good for the others still aboard the ship. He had a lightsaber this time that belonged to a dead Champion, the loaner he'd brought damaged during an alleyway scrap between Sith and FWA forces.

His cuirass was notched, scratched, and burned in various places from various things. Dead and dying littered streets and medical areas. The silent acolyte was definitely feeling the pressure, already feeling a kind of exhaustion he wasn't familiar with handling. It'd only been a few days on Denon and he wasn't anticipating much better. Even so, he wasn't planning to give in to that feeling.

Today was a push. In one section of the city, urban "trenches" had been formed between the two sides, fighting back and forth endlessly without any real ground taken or objective accomplished. Armored vehicles had been delivered and they were to rumble down the main street to where FWA forces had huddled down, breaking through the trenches and crushing the resistance. Or at least, that was the idea in theory.

-------

"Forward, men! Charge and stop for nothing!"
​

In practice, war was hell. Soleil was riding on the side of a thundering tank, the engine thrumming loud as it floated down the street toward a series of barricades. His lightsaber whipped in a close guard, deflecting some stray shots sent his way and ducking others behind a durasteel plate that'd been bolded on. Soleil had a specific job until they got to engagement range, being as he had the Force.

A rocket flew from behind a barricade toward the hovertank and he reached up, inhaling sharply and gritting his teeth. The air hissed from between his fangs as he exhaled power, using the Force to shove the projectile aside enough that it flew off-course into a shattered building. His heart hammered in his chest, the seemingly endless exhilaration of adrenaline keeping him in the moment. Just a little farther, he thought as the tank fired its main gun into the barricades, scattering wood, metal, and pieces of what used to be people.

Just a few more blocks.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Even as she rode atop one of the advancing hover-tanks, Vahliri couldn’t help the bit of nerves that still worked their way into her stomach, feeling her heart pounding furiously against the confines of her chest. While she had plenty of training and some field experience, this trip to Denon marked the half-Sephi’s first time stepping foot into an actual war zone - assigned right to the front lines as Sith forces pushed their way into the enemy trenches.

The half-Sephi was dressed in black-and-red Acolyte robes for the operation - the ensemble of cloth and armorweave providing her some level of protection against shrapnel and other stray projectiles. Her black hair was pulled back into an intricate braid and kept out of her face, while the air around her was still sweetly scented with the girl’s jasmine perfume - something she wasn’t willing to forgo even on the battlefield.

Vahliri couldn’t help but wince ever-so-slightly as one of the tanks fired upon an enemy barrack, instinctively bringing her forearm up to shield her face as they were blasted with pieces of debris. The half-Sephi allowed herself to glance in that direction - her honeyed gaze following the tank until she made eye contact with Sol.

Vahliri hadn’t realized the mute Acolyte had been assigned to the front lines alongside her until that very moment, but this wasn’t really the time for catching up. She gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement, her eyes flicking back ahead as the tanks rolled across what used to be an enemy barrack.

The half-Sephi kept the curved hilt of her saber held tightly in her right hand, it’s crimson blade painting her features in a red glow as she pointed it vertically and close to her body. Vahliri swiped her blade rapidly through the air, deflecting a bolt of blue plasma that was sent in her direction.

Just a little farther.

Vahliri kept her eyes fixed ahead, cautiously watching for any movement on the enemy line. It didn’t take long for an opportunity to present itself - her gaze settled upon a soldier who peaked his head up from around cover, exposing himself momentarily in order to fire at the encroaching Sith forces.

Without a moment to hesitate, the half-Sephi reached out with her free hand, the Force flowing into her fingertips and extending towards the exposed soldier. Vahliri coiled her grasp tightly around the soldier’s upper half before abruptly jerking her wrist inward and towards herself - pulling the soldier across the barbwire barrack and directly into the Sith line of sight.

Within seconds, Sith troopers fired upon the exposed soldier - peppering him with dozens of blaster bolts before his body ever touched the ground. Vahliri watched as the tank continued on its advance, rolling over where the man had dropped dead.

Almost there.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Soleil Altan]

Death sent out ripples in the Force that Soleil could feel. Like a stone dropped into a lake, weighing down a departed soul with echoes of its last experiences. It'd never seemed a quirk worth mentioning, just another strange aspect of a Sith's otherwordly powers. But here on the battlefield, cold stones fell like rain from overcast skies. Their collected weight was heavier than the armor he hated.

A near-imperceptible exhale as the bolt-peppered man Vahl pulled breathed his last, another stone. Sol didn't know what he was meant to do with the things he felt from other people or places sometimes. But now was certainly not the time to ponder it, either. Vahl got a nod back right before the silent acolyte returned his attention to the trenches ahead. Tanks ran through the barricades, side guns and soldiers peppering the uncovered defenders with blaster fire.

Soleil's presence in the Force pulsed outward, eyes widening with an uncharacteristically serious expression, glaring at a pair of FWA soldiers who'd just popped up from behind a half-shattered wall. Fear froze them in place like mice in the gaze of a snake, hesitating long enough for the tank's anti-infantry repeater to cut them down. He exhaled as their line rolled past this "trench" toward the next, vehicles and Sith soldiers pushing ever onward.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and he hastily swiped it aside with a sleeve, then hastily ducked down beneath his bolted-on cover as the next line of defense opened fire. After a moment he grimaced, noticing they weren't trading fire this time so much as throwing every bolt they had, keeping the two Sith pinned deflecting or in cover.

He deflected one shot among many, at which point he noticed something on the edge of vision, a glint from a window. As the Sith tanks fired into the trench ahead he narrowed his head, sneering irritably and pulling the man through the window to fall to his death. But what Sol'd assumed was a weapon was actually a portable rangefinder. He blinked.

A whistling pierced the air. Sith soldiers exploded in a burst of shrapnel from mortar fire. Soleil swung an arm to deflect one away from his tank and barely managed to deflect the burst of fire directed his way after that forced him to ground, clutching the burn from a near-miss on his armored shoulder. Silently snarling he banged on the tank's hatch and dropped from his place, sending a wordless ping in the Force toward Vahliri. No doubt she'd by now noticed the bombardment.

Soleil was heading into a side alley, deflecting fire despite his shoulder plate still trailing acrid smoke.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri had little time to process the death occurring all around her. Even as the stench of it and smoke invaded her nostrils and burned with every inhale. Even as the dying screams of FWA and Sith troopers filled her ears, dampened from being overwhelming only by the earbuds that the half-Anfynn wore discreetly tucked into her fluted earlobes.

Whatever ripples through the Force that Sol felt, Vahliri didn’t experience. As best as she could, the half-Anfynn blocked out everything else lest it overwhelm her - focusing strictly on the objective ahead of her.

Vahliri braced herself as the tanks barreled through yet another layer of barricades - bringing up a forearm to shield her face from the shower of debrief that was unleashed as the artillery plowed ahead. She wasn’t allowed a moment of rest before the half-Anfynn moved in lightsaber on yet another practiced swipe to the left, redirecting another bolt of azure plasma fired from the enemies lines. And then another. And another.

Sweat began to furiously drip down the half-Anfyn’s brow, loose strands of black hair matting down to her bronze features as she attempted to defend herself. With every inch of ground that was claimed by the invading Sith, the enemy troopers became more desperate - and it meant that they unleashed an endless volley upon the tanks without concern for saving ammunition or attempting to be precise. And it didn’t take long for the volley to become overwhelming to effectively defend against - pushing the half-Anfynn’s skill and reflexes to their limit. Her lightsaber whipped in a brilliant display of crimson plasma, swatting away yet another blaster bolt from the left - while unintentionally leaving herself open for but a split moment.

A pain gasp escaped from Vahliri’s lips as a bolt of blue plasma grazed her right shoulder, cutting through her armor and burning a molten channel through the first inch of her arms flesh. The half-Anfynn hissed, immediately rolling and diving behind cover as the volley of plasma continued to whiz above. Pressing her back against the durasteel plate, Vahliri immediately brought a hand up to press against the injury, taking in a few labored breaths as the pangs of agony coursed through her body.

The half-Anfynn was only allowed a few moments of recovery before her attention was drawn towards the whistling in the air - fluted ears twitching ever-so-slightly at the high-pitch sound. Her head peaked rapidly around the plate she was covering behind, watching as the first blast of mortar fire tore through Sith troopers. Her hand extended outward and the Force coiled around the next shot, an abruptly tug of her wrist sending the explosive to slam into a nearby building and away from her tank.

But Vahliri knew she couldn’t block all of them.

Rather than sitting through the bombardment, the half-Anfynn glanced ahead towards Sol - that ping through the Force drawing her attention. Without a word, she sprang from where she has been crouching behind cover - darting forth and bounding off of her tank - saber raised onto a close guard to block any incoming fire.

Her blade swung to deflect a final blaster bolt before the half-Anfynn rounded the corner of the side alley, pressing her back to the wall. She took a few moments to catch her breath, adrenaline still coursing heavily through her veins as she clutched the wound on her upper arm.

“You alright?” She turned to look at Sol, honeyed eye flicking to his burn. Vahliri only allowed her attention to linger for a few moments, the ground quaking from mortar fire snapping her back to attention.

“We need to take out their artillery.” She said after a moment, glancing ahead and further down the side alley. Perhaps they would be able to maneuver through the alleys and side streets in order to flank the enemy lines. “We aren’t going to get anywhere with that bombardment.”

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Soleil Altan]

A hissing exhale of breath escaped Sol as he detached the burnt shoulder armor and tossed it aside. For all his complaints of weight, it'd done its job and left him with only a flesh wound. Vahliri only got a nod back regarding his injury, which she should expect by now from the silent acolyte. With grit teeth he turned to look down the alley, a narrow thing that led behind and around buildings.

Soleil wasn't a military tactician, but if he were to guess, only and idiot wouldn't restrict a flank approach. Even gangs knew that much. Next his eyes moved to the building they were hiding behind as mortars fell and the tanks tried to back off, firing what guns still worked. Mouth curling into a sneer, Soleil leapt upward toward a second-story window without glass and climbed through, looking around the abandoned, bombed-out apartment inside.

He tried to ignore the burnt remnants of family photos scattered around a coffee table. Instead he crept forward, making sure the room was empty before finding the exit. It lead into the apartment hallway, from which he could vaguely- and Vahliri's ears would certainly get more sharply- pick up shouting voices and heavy boots on cheap carpet. More specifically, something about a targeting laser and pinning down tanks.

Soleil pulled a cheap vibroknife from his belt with his injured arm, his projectile of choice, and nodded toward the hallway door with a questioning look to Vahl.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri allowed her gaze to linger down the side alley for several additional seconds, dark brows knitted together in deep thought. Even without a plethora of military experience to draw on, it didn’t take the half-Annfyn long to consider that the opposing FWA forces had likely sealed off any flanking approach. It was the obvious maneuver that the Sith would seek to exploit, and she knew that going down that way was a risk.

A risk that likely wasn’t worth taking.

The half-Annfyn turned back to glance at Sol, watching as the Wrean leapt upwards and towards the second floor of a building. She didn’t question what he had in mind. Instead, Vahliri drew the Force around herself and leapt up into the air - vaulting through the same window that Sol had only momentarily passed through himself. Her boots touched down with a shuffle of broken glass, and the half-Annfyn pointedly tried to avoid looking at the apartment all around her. She didn’t want to look upon the family pictures on the walls or the half-cooked meals that were left on the stove. All signs of a happy, simple life for the people who once lived here.

A life that had been displaced by the Sith occupation of the world, if not snuffed out entirely.

Instead, Vahliri focused her attention strictly ahead. Her sensitive hearing quickly picked up on the sounds of heavy footsteps around the hall, as well as bits and pieces of the conversation taking place. Her eyes narrowed harshly. “They are about to take another shot at our tanks.” She said back to Sol, reaching for the lightsaber and reigniting its crimson blade. “We can use it!” She muttered back to him. If they could seize whatever weaponry the possessed, it could easily be turned back on the enemy.

Without another word, Vahliri made her way towards the exit of the apartment. She glanced down at the questioning look she received from Sol, giving him a curt nod before rounding the corner to where the enemy was advancing.

The four FWA troopers stopped dead in their tracks, eyes fixed onto Vahliri. Upon spotting the red-bladed saber in her hands, one of the troopers immediately opened fire on the half-Annfyn - the bolt of blue plasma only narrowly deflected by a swipe of the girl’s saber. Vahliri’s face immediately twisted into a sneer - eyes narrowing harshly upon the man who pulled the trigger.

Without a moment of hesitation, the half-Annfyn reached out with the Force and coiled her grasp around the man’s torso. With an abrupt jerk of her wrist, she threw him harshly against the wall of the hallway - the impact enough to open a large gash on the side of his skull and cause his body to fall limply to the ground.

She glanced back at Sol before forging ahead - prepared to engage the three remaining troopers.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Soleil Altan]

With the four soldiers fully fixed on Vahliri, especially after her telekinetic attack, they didn't have time to notice Soleil. He rounded the corner and telekinetically launched the vibroknife, its buzzing blade burying itself in a man's chest with a dull, wet *thunk*. And then there were two.

One soldier relentlessly pulled the trigger at Vahliri while the other hesitated before switching targets to Sol in a sudden panic, his first shot flying between the two Sith and the second deflected aside. Panic worsening, the man decided the wisest course of action was to pull a frag grenade on two Sith. The soldier armed it and drew his arm back to throw.

Soleil sent a burst of telekinesis forward, pushing him harshly into the wall behind and knocking his head against it. In the man's stunned state he kept firing his rifle wildly- at least for the next couple of seconds. Then the grenade went off, pulping him and sending the guy firing toward Vahliri flying forward from the blast wave, back pockmarked by shrapnel but still semi-alive.

The two Sith, meanwhile, would get an extra-fun ringing in their ears and maybe a little stray bits of metal.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

In-between swiping her saber to deflect incoming plasma bolts, Vahliri briefly caught sight of Sol out of her peripheral vision - watching as the Wrean Acolyre rounded the corner and launched a vibroblade into the chest of one of the troopers. One more dead, and one less problem they had to deal with.

She couldn’t focus on the Wrean for long, however. The FWA trooper in front of her continued to fire a volley of plasma bolts wildly in her direction - forcing the half-Annfyn to work in overdrive to deflect and dodge each. Beads of sweat rapidly formed on her brow, and she only realized too late what was happening between Sol, the other trooper and the drag grenade.

While Sol’s quick maneuver had saved them from actually being hit by the shrapnel of the frag grenade, they were both left to contend with the ear-splitting bang from the explosive - impacting Vahliri and her ultra sensitive hearing in horrifically painful fashion.

A wail escaped from the half-Annfyn as the sound boomed against the sides of her head, pain spiking from her ears and traveling to every inch of her skull. Her fluted earlobes flattened and twitched with agony, and Vahliri’s knees involuntarily buckled where she was standing - causing her to tilt over and lean the entirety of her body weight against the adjacent wall. Flashes of white clouded her vision for several long moments, her eyes rapidly flicking around in a desperate attempt to regain some sense of her surroundings.

It took the half-Annfyn several additional moments to regain her footing - and even then, the ringing in her ears persisted. Her amber eyes immediately fixated onto the still semi-living trooper, fury burning behind her gaze with an almost predatory glint.

Vahliri took a step forward - the Force snaking outward and coiling itself roughly around the troopers torso. With a violent flick of her wrist. Vahliri hurled the barely conscious man into the adjacent wall - his body slamming against duracrete with a sickeningly wet thud. Another swing of her arm in the opposite direction sent the man flying into the wall on the other side of the hallway - yet another whimper of pain and wet crunch filling the room.

With a final swipe of her arm, Vahliri threw the trooper once again - sending the man through an already broken window - plummeting several stories and onto the active battlezone below.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Soleil Altan]

Soleil reeled back after the big boom, a semi-transparent membrane nictitating over his eyes as he blinked several times to clear the white spots from his vision. He then had the strange sensation of watching something up close but hearing it from far away as Vahliri took her tantrum out on the previously semi-alive trooper. Sol watched the man fly out the window with a curled lip.

Wiggling a finger in an ear and flexing his jaw, he walked over to do a quick look-over of the bodies and their stuff. He picked up three power packs and his thrown knife, leaving the other weapons behind. Sol stepped past the corpse and turned to make eye contact with Vahl, tapping one of his ears and raising both eyebrows inquisitively as he walked through an apartment doorway.

On the other side was a cleared-out living room, what looked like an overlarge pistol- actually a targeting laser- sat atop a battle-damaged dining chair by a broken window. It must be guiding the long-range artillery and mortar fire. Sol stepped forward, nostrils flaring-

Immediately the Wrean acolyte's head whipped to the right, a hand waving right-to-left. A blaster shot rang, missing him, the pistol itself flying out the open window just before Sol got trucked over by a figure around his height. It was a human-shaped woman with fangs bared in a vicious snarl and skin tinted silver, a rumbling growl ripping through the air as she bodily tackled Soleil. They both crashed into the wall, a hung photograph falling to shatter on the floor. Sol tried to ignite his lightsaber and she bashed his hand against the wall without hesitation until it fell, hand letting go against his will.

Soleil's eyes were wide as he was dazed by the impact, his lips twisting into an equally furious if silent snarl as he pushed and grappled with the Firrerreon woman, both trying to get superior leverage. The woman was obviously highly trained in close combat, far better than the ordinary militiamen who'd been with her or the academy's courses. Using Teras Kasi technique, she didn't give Sol the time or space to focus on the Force, all while keeping him stuck against the wall.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Despite the tantrum she readily unleashed upon the only semi-alive trooper, it was clear that Vahliri was still heavily reeling from the effects of the concussive grenade. The explosive in such a confined space was enough to leave the average person disoriented and with a lasting ringing in their ears - and that was only amplified for someone with ultra-sensitive Annfyn hearing. It was excruciatingly painful and blinding in its initial waves, and the Acolyte was still plagued with a constant throbbing in her head as she pushed off from where she was standing in the hallway.

Inhaling sharply, Vahliri groaned and began to make her way over towards the remaining bodies that now littered the hallway - spotting a spare knife and blaster still fastened to the hip of one of them. She didn’t bother with the firearm, instead opting to snag the knife and tuck it into her belt before looking up at Sol. She blinked a few times when the Wrean made his hand gestures.

“No,” She muttered unamused. “I can’t hear shit right now,” Her voice was elevated quite a bit lower then was necessary, and it was clear the ringing in her ears hadn’t yet subsided. At least for the time being, they wouldn’t be able to rely on her sensitive hearing to scout the path ahead.

While Sol stepped into the room just up ahead, Vahliri took a moment to glance further down the hallway where the troopers had come from originally in the first place - double checking that they weren’t about to get swamped by another pack of grenade-throwing assholes.

And then she heard the commotion inside the room where Sol had just vanished into. Without another moment to spare, Vahliri darted onto the living room and rounded the corner - just in time to see the Firrerreo woman slam Sol against the wall. Right from the get-go, it was abundantly clear that the woman was more skilled on close-quarters than either of them - and yet Vahliri knew that attempting to swing at the Firrerreo with her saber only risked bisecting Sol on the process.

Instead, Vahliri abruptly reached out with the Force - coiling her grasp around the Firrerreo’s two-tone hair that was tied up onto a ponytail. The half-Annfyn abruptly yanked her wrist downward and craned the woman’s neck as a result - hopefully giving Sol the momentary opportunity to put some space between himself and the Firrerreo.

Regardless, Vahliri took the opportunity to tackle the woman herself - snaking her arm around the woman’s exposed neck while positioning herself against the Firrerreo’s back. Abruptly yanking backwards, Vahliri successfully pried the woman away from Sol and dragged her to the ground - the end result being both women attempting to grapple each other on the living room floor.

A pained cry escaped from Vahliri as the woman dug one Orc her claws into the half-Annfyn’s forearm - cutting deep and leaving thick gashes that ran just below the elbow. In retaliation, Vahliri reached for a shard of broken glass on the ground, drawing her arm back in an attempt to bury the shard into the Firrerreo’s thigh.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Soleil Altan]

Being stuck against the corner wall and grappling with this Firrerreo was clearly ramping up Soleil's agitation, somewhere between panic and rapidly spiking anger. He was still swinging when Vahliri's Force maneuver pulled the commando backward. A messy hook whiffed in front of the Firrerreon's face as Vahl's arm slipped around her neck, yanking her back. The Commando's immediate response was to grab it with one arm and go for a shoulder throw.

Which was stifled by Sol kicking forward into the commando's stomach with as much force as he could muster, unintentionally aiding Vahl in dragging the Firrerreo down in the process. On the ground, the Firrerreon's grip on Vahl's forearm was mighty. Strong fingers locked around the limb while claws dig into the skin as she began forcing a little space in the one-armed neck hold. Then Vahl went for the glass shanking tactic.

With her lower body free, the commando twisted her hips and moved the out of the way, the glass slicing a red line across the skin. The Firrerreon's free arm shot out to grab the glass-wielding hand's wrist. Immediately she'd attempt to slam the hand into the ground to both cut Vahl's fingers on the glass and knock it from her grip. Unfortunately, the commando was in a chaotic scrap with two people at once.

Sol was still there this entire time and the commando was forced to fend him off with ground kicks toward his stomach, planting her boots against his hips and legs to keep him away while also trying to keep control of Vahliri's arms. It was working great, especially when she knocked the wind out of him with an expertly maneuvered, legs-only trip takedown that sent Sol sprawling, her response to his fingers sparking with electric energy.

At least until he got a wild kick to contact her ribs with an unsettling crunch and involuntarily wheeze of air. Her grip on Vahl's limbs weakened for a moment and gave the Annfyn an opening.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri’s jaw tightened into a firm line as she grappled with the Firrerreo, pain surging through her arms and into the rest of her body as the FWA Commando cut those feral-like claws into her flesh - releasing a steady trickle of blood to flow down the length of her arms and to soak the other woman’s hands.

While the glass shard was successful in slicing a firm red line across the Firrerreo’s skin, it wasn’t nearly what the half-Annfyn had intended. While her grip on the woman’s throat remained firm, she struggled against the hand that attempted to pin that glass shard back to the ground - all of her strength going into fighting back against it. It was a bitter struggle - her own arm gradually beginning to bend backwards and towards the ground due to the Firrerreo’s superior strength.

Of course, that was just when Sol came in with his kick to the woman’s ribs. She heard the sickening crunch that followed, and felt the way that the Commando’s grip on her limbs loosened, if only for a split second. It was, however, all the time Vahliri needed. Rather than attempting to overpower the woman physically, the half-Annfyn used the opening spread her fingers and release the shard of glass - the Force coiling around the shard and launching it like a projectile.

Before the woman could react, the shard of glass embedded itself several inches into the side of her neck - slicing through her windpipe with a sickeningly wet thud. Almost at once, the grip on Vahliri fell away as the Firrerreo began to desperately claw at her throat - fingers slipping in an attempt to pull the shard from her neck, just as blood began to fountain up from her lips. Moments past, and the movement from the Commando gradually began to slow as the lifeblood poured out of her - the glint on her vibrant eyes eventually fading into dull, empty stillness.

“Crazy bitch..” Vahliri muttered under her breath, eyes narrowed as brought her arms up, pushing the corpse that was still baring down on top of her and rolling it to the side. The half-Annfyn winced as she forced herself back to her feet - glancing down at the deep gashes that had been left in her arms - blood still trickling down to her fingertips.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Soleil Altan]

Out of some kind of integrated habit, Soleil offered his hands to help Vahliri up from the ground. It was clear he'd been scratched and bruised up from the scrap, although he seemed to barely notice most of it. Regardless of how that turned out, he spent many moments looking down at the Firrerreo afterward.

Crazy? Maybe. But the Sith had burned their home. How, in that situation, would he react? If everything had gone, nothing left to lose, what would he do? Soleil shook his head to clear it and turned to search about the room. What they were looking for was still where it was to begin with.

A laser targeter. The acolyte stepped toward it and the window, picking up the rifle-like device. Packed with sensors and the like, it picked up the precise coordinates of whatever it pointed at and relayed it to a pre-programmed device. All it really needed was a clear "shot".

And this window was wide open. Sol wasn't a master tactician, but he knew you one should watch their field advantages carefully. Someone could be watching the window. But the longer they delayed, the more Sith forces were delayed or destroyed. So, what was an acolyte to do?

Soleil determinedly stepped forward stuck the rifle out the window, aiming toward the heavy resistance forces- and paused. He grit his teeth, eyes narrowed. Somehow, pressing a button to wipe people out just felt different from fighting for his life. It was so impersonal as to be callous, cruel. Still, in the end, he pulled the trigger.

He and Vahliri would both watch as artillery shells whistled in directed at the completely wrong side. Barriers and anti-vehicle weapons were scattered to scrap in the explosions. Blood and flesh careened through the air. Soleil stared at it, still in place as he absorbed precisely what he'd done.

A crack, the shattering of glass, and a burst of smoke from his torso broke that stillness. Soleil flew back from the window, propelled by a rifle shot from the suspected someone who'd been watching the situation from on high. He slid to a sudden stop, smoke curling from a glowing impact on his armor that covered his left shoulder joint.

Another shot flew through the open window aimed at nothing in particular, followed by a third. Then, nothing.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Vahliri barely had time to register the damage caused by the rocket launcher. Her amber gaze lingered for only split seconds upon the sight of artillery weapons and bodies torn apart, alongside makeshift barriers reduced to mere splinters of wood. It was exactly what they had intended when they had abandoned their posts on the tanks, and yet it was a sight that gave the half-Annfyn that briefest moment of pause.

A moment of pause that was interrupted by the sound of a shot ringing out, and Sol dropping beside her.

“FUCK!” The words escaped from Vahliri’s lips as she ducked for cover - the remains of a countertop, grimacing as the two remaining shots struck different, random places in the room. Even as the silence filled the room, the half-Annfyn didn’t dare to abandon her cover just yet - knowing full well that the sniper was still trained on them. Nevertheless, her gaze didn’t leave Sol.

Without a word, the half-Annfyn reached out with both hands - the Force coiling tightly around the Wrean Acolyte as she pulled him towards her across the carpet - a bit of care given to lift his shoulder off the ground as she pulled him behind that bit of cover. The moment he was within reach, Vahliri wrapped her arms underneath Sol’s own and pulled him against her chest - her own back pressed against the cover they were both hidden behind.

She immediately went to work removing the duraplast shoulderpiece the Acolyte was wearing, discarding it with a toss. The half-Annfyn reached for her utility belt, fishing out a pair of bacta patches once she finished removing the Wrean’s armor over the injury.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Soleil Altan]

Even with care, getting dragged sucked. On the other hand, Soleil was grateful to be in cover, insomuch as he could form a coherent thought. His shoulder felt like it was made of fire and pain. He hissed in abject discomfort through hard-grit teeth when Vahliri removed the damaged armor, burnt flesh protesting any contact with anything

It'd clearly been a heavy bolt, judging from the injury. He'd gotten lucky with shot placement, but he'd still need a proper medic. Still, he wasn't going to complain about first aid for now and tried really hard not to squirm with partial success. Once the patch was in place he didn't seem all too inclined to movement.

Sol reached up with his un-shot arm to gratefully pat Vahliri's arm after a couple seconds with an audible sigh of relief. They couldn't safely get anywhere until their forces moved up into the artillery-blasted area. Afterward though, the two of them were able to leave the building and report they'd escorted their forces to the checkpoint.

The Wrean acolyte elected for medical treatment and a nap.

@Altaris

//End Thread