Vanilla Ice

[Hol Horse]

Sal stood aboard the Imperial transport, looking out the small open slits in the sliding side-doors down at the planet below. Belsavis was an interesting place, one that somehow managed to survive despite the hazardous conditions commong throughout the planet. The Devaronian could see some heavy infantry and other ground-based transports speeding along the small pockets of green that littered the planet. No doubt, they were heading to the forward command center as he and his companion were. The scientist-sorcerer for once kept a rather neutral expression as he looked up from the outside view back into the large interior of the transport ship he and Nayel were aboard. Sal knew little about the Legionairre who had been paired up with him- so long as he kept the sorcerer alive, he could care less about his background in truth. The sith still had no spells to truly call his own, a frustrating constant that dogged him at every corner it seemed, what good was a sorcerer who didn't have his own spells to sorcer-er with?

The snowy white skinned sith gave an exaggerated pout to himself as he heard the blasterfire of the holdout militia starting to fire at their landing craft as well as the others now flying alongside them. Belsavis was formally a de jure dominion of the Empire, yet, it functioned more like an independent colony despite formally admitting Imperial control. This relationship, it seemed, was unsuitable in the eyes of the Dark Council, which is why they had sent him and Nayel to stamp out the last pocket of resistance that was keeping them from consolidating their control over the planet: Lt. Rhel Korrado. Sal sighed as he thought about how loooong this day was going to be, he could already feel his makeup and mascara starting to sweat off his beautiful face slowly but surely. Why couldn't he just be left alone to research in peace back in his laboratory? Sure Belsavis was a short jump from the Deep Core, but it felt like an eternity when considering the glorious science that kept his mind back in the lab.

The sith, tried to lift his spirits by focusing back on his little cute troopers who were now under his and Nayel's command (although, admittedly, the latter man likely had more knowledge and sway with managing an assault force, thus Sal left such things to him). The landing craft they were in was filled up with around 30 or so imperial troopers now preparing their weapons and holding on tight as flak and anti-aircraft projectiles were lobbed into the air by the holdout militia. Yeesh, some of them looked as pale as a ghost, whiter than even him, if such a thing was possible. Sal smiled to no one in particular as he looked around the cramped interior of the landing craft, "Just remember kiddos, shoot first and ask questions later" he said, tapping the temple of his forehead, hoping that the fighters absorbed some of his almighty sage wisdom.

"5 Minutes until arrival, prepare to disembark" the captain spoke over the landing craft's PA system. It seemed they were almost there. Korrado was holed up with his militia in an old military base, from there he had ships and artillery at his disposal. They would need to take out those big guns first as well as mop up his men, then the two Imperials could kick it back, drink a few cocktails, and watch the grunts flood the base and butcher anyone who stood in their way. It was a piece of cake with extra frosting, without a doubt.

All the while, the sound of blaster fire grew ever louder, the atmosphere in the ship grew tense. They were about to go into the fray.

OOC: Sal is wearing all the gear and armor listed in his bio, as well as the assault drone which is aboard the landing craft with him and Nayel. He is wearing his normal white labcoat over his Dewback armor, though the lower half is cut short to allow for easy moving. He has 3x ammo for both his Trishot and Sunspear pistol, as well as his two cans of Firespray.

@Tristar

 

[Roro223]

Roro watched as some ships flew across the sky. The group of resistance fighters was the last cell left standing, doing what they could. Roro came across them by accident, but felt compelled to assist after begging him, or anyone that would listen really, to intervene and help them in any way they could. So here he was on this frigid planet. Watching the flak cannons try to shoot some ships out of the air. Sooner or later they'd face yet another wave of soldiers coming for their heads without surrender.
Roro was assisting their leader, Lt. Rhel Korrado, with the defenses wondering how it would all end...

 

[Tristar]

A rifle cradled on his lap, sat upon his helmet as they flew over the cracked ice-y surface of Belsavis with his feet dangling in the free winds Nayel played the part of a dare devil with a blank expression on his face. The transport shuttle's bay door was open at the behest of the commander who watched as the little resistance base threw all they had to stop the Empire. It was a futile attempt, it was a sad attempt: the soldier shifted from his seat on his helmet and withdrew a cigarette, lit it with a zippo and washed his lungs with the taste of acrid smoke. It was the military brand smokes, coarse and full of nicotine to keep soldiers from sleeping. They weren't healthy, but so was his job.

As the shuttle swerved to avoid a nasty barrage of repeaters the officer held onto the hand rails and dug his feet into the open ramp. Some of the party cursed loudly as they held on tight to avoid being flung out of the transport; some grumbled about his decision to leave it open but Nayel had his reasons. The shuttle buckled as it begun its descent into the militia's patch of green. Nayel stood up and deftly slapped his helmet on, spitting out his cigarette into the void as his view became obstructed with topographical readings, unit vitals and the general cool scheme of the armor's HUD. He looked back over his shoulder as they were suddenly washed over with the engulfing shadow of the ice walls: beneath their faceless helmets no one could tell what each individual soldier was feeling. Fear? Trepidation? Blood lust?

He liked it that way, since they wouldn't be able to tell how he felt. Priming his blaster, he gave the Sith onboard a quick look out of respect for his order; he remembered back when he was a brother of the Ziost Band, how his initiation involved killing another acolyte. The Sith was lucky things changed, Nayel contemplated. He felt as though the man was expecting some kind of words of wisdom from him, but Nayel was never one to give speeches. Instead, as the ramp touched down and the pilot ushered all his passengers to leave amidst the gunfire, Nayel gave him one final piece of solid advice: "Keep your head or lose it."

With that he rejoined his troops, directing a five man squad to protect their tripod mounted heavy repeater as the gun crew struggled to set up the apparatus. Nayel himself loosed a few bolts at the militia who kept their cool from behind their sandbags, barricades and trench lines that pockmarked the No-Man's Land to their base and further back where their heavy AAs were located, keeping the Empire from dropping more reinforcements. The stormtroopers were spread out, lead by their squad leaders who ensured every soldier had a job that was executed.

Spoiler: Equipment

• Redoubt-Series Shock Trooper Armor
  • Wrist-Mounted Flamethrower & Compressed Fuel Capsule
  • Wrist-Mounted Micro-filament Net Launcher (1) One Net Capsule

• XPC-71 Rifle
  • (4) Charge Power Packs; (27) shots per Charge Power Packs

• GB-357 "Gratia" Blaster
  • (5) Charge Power Packs; (16/2) shots per Charge Power Packs

• (2) Mk 3 Pyrotechnic Munitions Device "Firespray"

• (2) SCKO-Grenade

• (2) MZ-99 "Smackdown" Grenade

• (1) Foam Spray

• (1) SG-4

• (1) AI-1

 

[Hol Horse]

Sal held on tightly as the ship swerved and bucked, evading the barrage of blasterfire aimed at it and the rest of the landing party. After a particularly bad bump, the sorcerer gave a quick yelp. It had been some time since he had ridden to the front like this, he had been a younger man when he had galliantly led his fellow brothers-in-arms to battle. Now, although he physically may not have aged all that much, his life of devotion to the study of the dark side both scientifically and through magic, had taken a toll on his deeper being. As the ship began to descend down to the green hole, one of many that littered the forbidding ice planet, Sal's brows furrowed into a deep frown. This place was a far cry from the dark sanctuary of his laboratory, still, if he did not fight and cull the meek such as these wreches, then what kind of Sith would he be?

Finally, the ship landed, hovering a few feet off the ground and opening up the doors on both side of the ship so that Sal, Nayel, and their troopers could hop off while the landing craft provided covering fire. Over the barrage of blaster bolts, the sith managed to make out the sounds of the Officer's short and simple advice. Having mentally steeled himself during the trip for the coming battle, the sorcerer toned down his normally flamboyant personality, attempting to revert back to the more collected leader he once was. "I'll try to remember it" he retorted over his shoulder loudly over the blasterfire as he began hustling away from the ship and igniting his crimson lightsaber.

The milita were dug in like ticks, beyond the no man's land that separated the imperial troops from Korrado was a line of sandbag-fortified trenches, further beyond this were the heavy artillery the AAs. The sorcerer exhaled deeply, pausing a moment as he felt the presence and power of the dark side on this battlefield. The bodies strewn about with blood turning the grown a dark red, the dirt and mud that now covered what had once been a grassy field, the looks of fear that some of the militia now had upon seeing the ominous red blade of the sith appear. Sal now inhaled, breathing in the luxurious scent of death, decay, and perhaps the scent of body odor. The dark side was with him, it ebbed and flowed with his every step and movement, and it was with him now, like his shadow, as he began advancing forwards towards the enemy trenches, deflecting blaster bolts with ease as they came. He did not run, no, the muddy and dirt-covered no mans land would make that foolish, but instead walked at a casual and slow pace, ever vigilant and on the lookout for any new threats. It was like a sunday stroll on a sunny day- hah, alliteration, he cracked himself up sometimes.

Naturally, at seeing a sith start walking across no-man's land at them, the rate of fire would have become increasingly concentrated on Sal lest he reach their trenches and butcher them all. Of course, this too was expected, and although the sith needed to focus more on the dark side and quickly deflecting bolts away from him with simple and quick movements of the wrist, the fact that more and more troops were firing at him surely would leave an opening his men to lay waste to the enemy line, or, better yet, advance and rush the trenches.

 

[Tristar]

Nayel hadn't this much fun since he had to kill a Sith for his initiation into the now defunct Sacred Band of Ziost. He peaked from the small muddy crest that meant the difference between a head and none at all. The No-Man's land was still as hellish with blasters flying wildly, screaming shrill voices as they zoom past his head. "Cassano!" he yelled at the mounted heavy repeater trooper. "Traverse the horizon, I want fire superiority! Malarkey, Gunther; push up into the trenches and clear them out!" He kept his orders brief before crawling along the mud towards the next squad, hugging his rifle.

Korrado wasn't making this easy for himself: despite the ramshackle appearance, the firebase was protected by the ring of ice walls that funneled any stormtrooper reinforcements into one vector. With just three AA guns they could fill the sky with enough bolts that warded any attempts to bring more Imperial guns into the fray. Stuck with a company of stormtroopers, plenty of casualties including some of the men from his command squad he was at least grateful that the Empire decided to send him a Sith to draw fire from what few men he had left. "Drazz!" he called out towards a stormtrooper who was directing fire from his squad's repeater. "Drazz!"

"Sir!" he replied, crouched behind a rock. "A little busy-" "Can it: get your men and tail the Sith, make sure he has fire support." interjected the commander, pulling himself up to the rock and leaning against it. His subordinate peered over his cover and spotted the Sith, further ahead than the stormtroopers who were bogged down by fierce fire. "Just us sir?" Nayel clenched his jaw and shook the squad leader roughly. "I can't afford to send anymore men- just do as I say, keep your head down. Leave your wounded here, let the Corpsman deal with them." With a concerned look on his face, Drazz nodded quickly and barked out a few orders to his men. None of them hesitated and quickly charged through the fire storm, desperately trying to match the rebel's bolts with theirs.

The sudden rapid thumping shook the earth: the trooper looked back and nearly gave a loud whoop as the gunnery squad begun to unleash a devastating barrage over to the rebels. What the repeater lacked for accuracy it made up for in sheer volume of fire; even the storm trooper's handheld repeaters struggled to match the bigger brethren's fire rate. With a small dose of reprieve he leapt over his cover and quickly dashed forward, pulling stormtroopers out of their fox holes and urging them forward, either with his words of support or the boot to their rear ends. "Move!" he yelled, urging a trooper who had fallen into the mud. Grumbling loudly he pulled his fellow soldier out from the mud. The red blast came out of nowhere, perhaps through the smoke of the fires or the labyrinth of the trench system; it flew and struck the man he had tried to help square in the head. With a soft sigh the corpse fell back, devoid of life with a sizzling hole by his temple. Nayel didn't look back twice and charged forward, determined to link up with his sith entourage.

 

[Hol Horse]

Sal stood tall as he whirled his blade in front of him, deflecting the many blaster bolts coming at him. The sith frowned as he felt his movements grow faster, even with his heightened control of the dark side, the result of years of study, there was only so fast his physical body could keep up. His Soresu allowed him to deflect oncoming blasterfire with the most minimal of wrist movements, concerving energy and time as a result, but this strategy would only work for so long. Even now, the Devaronian felt himself being forced to move faster and faster to keep up with the inreasing concentration of fire focused on him. This frustration fed his rage, his desire to butcher the worms slinking about in their muddy trenches like the spineless vermin they truly were. This fury set his mind ablaze as he moved at great speeds to deflect the onslaught aside while his troops took advantage of the opening that was now being made.

Fortunately, just as Sal was beginning to feel the heat, the sound of blasterfire now coming from behind him was heard. The rhythmicaly satifsying sound of the repeated thumped a ludicrous volume of firepower at the enemy trenches, who were now panicking at the sudden appearance of the powerful assault weapon. The sith grinned, Nayel had taken advantage of this moment and played a strong hand as a result. The sorcerer felt the presence of the dark side there on the battleflied grow once again as the onset of dread and fear filled the enemy lines. The heavy repeated now plowed into their sandbag shooting holes and butchered brutally any militia member who was foolish enough to try and snipe the trooper manning the gun, the tide had decisively turned for the empire's favor. As the sound of yelling stormtroopers thundered to life behind him, as well as from his sides, Sal raised his crimson blade into the air, "Take no prisoners! Let these lands be stained with the blood of these vermin for centuries to come!" he cackled with glee, his words booming towards the lines once again.

With this simple, yet effective, order given, the sith charged forwards with his fellow stormtroopers. With the concentration of power now scattered or stopped entirely in the fear and confusion sweeping the militia lines, Sal lept into their trenches with ease. The Devaronian's crimson blade cleaved into the enemies with ease, bisecting them in swift stroked as he slinked and slunked his way through the trenches to help his men carry out their punitive task. He cackled as he heard the screams and cries for mercy, the fools were weak, they had no right to ask for any such consolation of a swift death, they had no right for anything, for they were weak. A volley of sith lightning rippled into the body of one of the bisected militiamen, in mad glee the scientist forgot to preserve the carcas for later experimentation, instead burning it to ashes in sweet sweet incineration. The first part of this battle had been won, yet there was more to be done now. They could not grow careless.

Sal paused, inhaling deeply to recollect his center. It was difficult in battle to balance the mentally degenerating side of his brain and his more sane logical one, a result of his years of experimentation with the dark side. Now, though, with this first objective taken, it was time to plan their next move, and fast. They could risk charging further forwards directly into the inner courtyard to take Korrado's citadel within his fort, but this would be a costly and dangerous engagement. They were outmanned and outgunned, they needed more men. The sounds of the AA turrets from within the base once more rang to the forefront of his mind. Those big guns were keeping their other transports and landing craft from overruning the base, if they took them out it would be a simple matter of overhwlming the remnants of the Belsavis militia.

As Nayel approached, Sal considered these options, but deferred to the more strategically experienced commander. "We mussst take out those guns, we need to get in that base first with some explosives to do so" the sorcerer observed, though looked at the legionairre with an expression of expectance and stern stoicism appropriate for the current situation. This first objective had been easy to plan out, but this next may be more hard to work around, it was time perhaps for the human to assume the more strategic command for this next goal.

 

[Undine]

Emerald stood at the window overlooking the battlefield from inside the rebel base. The Jedi had been contacted on Lothal by a man named Rhel Korrado, the very same man who now stood overlooking the same scene as she was. The rebels of Belsavis had decided to fight for their autonomy from the Empire, and while many of their ranks feared the threat of retribution should they accept aid from the Jedi, Rhel Korrado knew he and his men couldn't win against the tide of destruction that was the Sith and their minions. Unfortunately, the Jedi forces in the area were more preoccupied in other systems and the reinforcements the rebel leader had hoped for had come in the form of a single Jedi knight and an initiate of the Order. Emerald had no intention of letting the planet fall however, and despite the glaring disapproval of his peers Rhel Korrado had no intention of turning away their aid.

She and Jalen had been regulated to advisory positions, told not to interfere in the battle itself unless there was no other option. If the Empire's dogs realized the rebels had been aided by the Jedi and did manage to take control of the system there was no telling the severity of horrors that would befall them. As it stood, the only people that would be harmed would be the rebels themselves, but few in the galaxy had not heard stories of the lengths the Sith would go to ensure their people would never seek out the Jedi again. Even here, hundreds of feet away, Emerald could sense it, the darkside was gathering and soon enough there would be a flash of red spearheading it's way across the battlefield. The terms of their agreement had been breached, and the Empire's reinforcements arrived in the form of an Imperial Transport. With a single look at the rebel commander, Emerald turned to leave with her adoptive son Jalen at her side.

Rhel Korrado had known more then any of his men that once the Empire sent reinforcements, it would come in the form of a sith. It had been for this reason he'd contacted the Jedi, seeking out one of the few beings in the galaxy able to match his enemy blow for blow. His nod had come just after the Horansi Jedi Knight had left the room, taking the repulsorlift down to the ground level before she and her younger companion were shown to a few speeders. The two of them made their way to the trenches with haste. They arrived too late however, the Imperial forces had already begun to take the trenches, with the sith in question, a rather pale skinned being with large frontal horns, leading the charge and slaughtering dozens of good honest men and women. Though dozens of meters apart, Emerald's keen vision was able to pick out the Imperial commander to whom the sith seemed to be looking to for advice, noting him in her mind as someone to watch out for. She couldn't help but question the sith's skills, did he not know how to lead himself or was this simply his first field engagement? Such thoughts quickly faded as she reminded herself that no sith, no matter how little training they might have, is to be considered less of a threat.

Instead, Emerald focused on the fear flowing through the men and women of the rebel forces as they were now falling into retreat. She focused on this root emotion and attempted to touch it, to morph it into something different, the will to live. As she and Jalen ignited their lightsabers the retreating rebels around them took notice with many stopping to stare in awe. Just as the red blades of the sith inspired fear, the emerald and indigo blades of the two Jedi inspired hope and newfound inspiration. Those few who had not given into their fears and continued to fight did so with more ferocity, and those who had indeed turned to flee rallied and began to return fire once more. The two forces pushing their way into the trenches and slamming into one another in deadly force. Emerald leaped forward a dozen meters or so near where the fighting was becoming the thickest, sweeping through entire waves of Imperial soldiers as her Emerald blades cut deep even into the walls of the trenches as she began to spin. The rebels around her gathered behind her, keeping clear of her lightsaber while laying down suppressive fire as they began to retake the trenches.

Emerald wouldn't stop until she came face to face with the sith leading the charge, not until he was forced to flee, captured, or killed would this battle be won in favor of the rebels. The Jedi might not have any desire of control over the planet, the Order might even be focused elsewhere, but no one would be left to fend for themselves against the imperial dogs. With a resounding roar, the Horansi Jedi Knight greeted the pale faced sith, her deep emerald blades standing in defiance to his own rubied hue. Belsavis might very well fall, but it would not do so quietly. With a short glance in the sith's direction, Emerald prepared herself to strike. Standing atop the trenches, with militia soldiers all around her, Emerald had managed to keep ahold the rebel's grasp of the front lines long enough to deny the imperials entry to the base. Both sides had taken many casualties, bodies littered the area, broken and bleeding, dead and dying, and it is in this world of darkness which comes the evil, destructive forces of war and the hidden truths of mankind's nature of cruelty. Emerald was not blinded by the light as so many sith thought of all Jedi, she knew that to fight was to tempt herself to that very darkness, but she also knew that not to fight would be to give herself over completely to it.

Spoiler: OOC - Equipment

Double Bladed Lightsaber
Force Attuned Discblade
Electroblade
Electro-Whip
SA-17 "Mercy"
Handcrafted Leather & Fur Robes, DOES NOT function as armor.

@Kyle: The Rogue
​

 

[René]

Jalen quietly followed his adoptive Horansi mother and Jedi teacher, twirling the Padawan braid that hang from his head in nervous anticipation. Although the Kiffar had expected the Empire's reinforcements to come with a Sith leader, he had still been startled at one's appearance and ferocity on the battlefield. While Jalen rode down the repulsorlift, he could feel Emerald r echoing out with the Force in an attempt to calm his nerves and silence his fear. Climbing onto one of the speeder bikes they were given, the pair rode out towards the trenches as if there was a pack of rancors behind them.

Jumping off of his speeder as soon as they stopped, the Padawan ignited his double-bladed lightsaber, the indigo blades springing to life from both ends. Concentrating hard, Jalen began to spin his blades to deflect incoming blaster fire that was becoming increasingly more aimed at him. By the time he reached the front-ish lines, Emerald had already begun to slice through stormtroopers and the Belsavis rebels had rallied again, starting to take back some of the trenches. The Kiffar leaped into the fray, his shoulder-length hair flying behind him as he began to slash his way through the Imperial forces, falling into the familiar motions of Form V, Djem So.

Jalen slowly was making his way towards Emerald, while she and the unnervingly pale Sith made their way towards each other. Jalen fought off the fear radiating from the Sith, although he could help but think, "What if I die against such a strong opponent? What will I do if Akasha dies? Am I really ready to fight my first Sith?". He suddenly realized that while he was lost in his thoughts, the decrease of his aggressive onslaught had given a small group of stormtroopers time to get a little to close to him. Somersaulting backwards, the Kiffar deflected some of their blaster fire before landing and summoning a Force blast strong enough to knock them a couple feet back. While they were picked off by the rebel militia, Jalen continued to close the gap between himself and Emerald until the mother and son duo were basically back to back; and about 50 yards away, the pale horned Sith decapitated another rebel, and then turned their direction.

Spoiler: Jalen's Equipment

• A phrik-iron allow chestplate designed to protect against heavy blaster bolts and 2-3 direct lightsaber strikes.
• Basic cloth Jedi robes and cloak
• Double-bladed indigo lightsaber

 

[Tristar]

"Easy there," Nayel yelled as he vaulted over a sandbag wall, a few steps away from his Sith entourage. He was quick to spot the changing tides of the battle, how the rebel fighters weren't so much in a disorganized rout as a tactical retreat. It might have been just his own prejudice, or perhaps the sudden implications of death but the commander figured that the reason for the rebel's change of heart was from the presence of a hero-like figure: Jedi. He remembered when he was just a kid on some backwater planet listening to how the Jedi were the saviours of the meek, protectors of the weak.

He didn't really buy any of it and resigned himself to his hand-to-mouth existence. He snapped out of his flashback and quickly assessed the situation. He spotted two figures that had to be Jedi to his one Sith, who didn't seem like he was skilled enough to take on two glow sticks at once. Scrunching up his face, he quickly turned around and leapt over the cover and toggled his unit commo: "Cassano! We have new targets, glow sticks directly ahead; two of them. Pound the ground beneath them but do not shoot directly at the fighters!"

"Sir!" came the stressed reply. Nayel's logic was such: glow sticks were great against blasters only because they could deflect them, and with their superhuman reactions, could easily send a bolt back. The stormtrooper's mounted gun however, wasn't aimed at the Jedi. but at the ground beneath and before them- it would take a very skilled Jedi to break their routine from defending their own bodies with whatever style they adhered to, and purposefully go out of their way to deflect a turret bolt: no living creature willingly went into danger after all. He had about 4 platoons plus his command squad - that was about 200 storm troopers versus a garrison sized rebel force. On even terms, the stormtroopers outmatched the resistance fighters; this was not an even fight. "First platoon, second platoon: shift fire, shift fire! New targets, two Jedi directly twelve o'clock!" he peaked over his sand bag and found the suitable target.

"Priority target: the Kiffar! First platoon, aim for the targets next to the Jedi. Second platoon, suppress the Jedi: we'll make him choose who he wants to save!" Jedi were easy creatures to predict. Their code didn't allow them to sacrifice others in their place- that was their job. Every creature however, had their own survival instincts hardwired into their body. He was hoping for the Jedi's inexperience to get himself killed while he dealt with the woman who looked far more comfortable and thus more dangerous to his men.

"Everyone else, skirmish orders! Do not let the enemy advance on your position! Execute!" He drew his rifle and shouldered it, its particle beam technology making it a supreme anti-Jedi killing weapon: he squeezed the trigger six times at the Horansi, three at her feet, two to her head and one to the chest. He trusted his Sith to be smart about his actions, or at least listen to his survival instincts.

Spoiler: Action Summary

1. Mounted turret targets Jedi; fires at ground beneath/before them.
2. Two platoons engage Jalen; 1st Platoon targets rebel fighters next to the Kiffar; 2nd Platoon suppresses Jalen.*
3. All stormtrooper units now in skirmish order; Will tactically retreat from advancing units under cover of friendly blasters.
4. Nayel engages with Emerald; Fires 6 shots at Jedi: 3 to lower body, 2 to head and 1 to chest.

* 50 men per platoon. Due to casualties, only 41 stormtroopers are left in the 2nd Platoon. 1st Platoon has 32 storm troopers. Unless specified, all storm troopers are spread out with a 10 meter spread between each individual.

@Ravendark
@Kyle: The Rogue
@Undine

 

[Hol Horse]

Sal frowned as he felt the area around him begin to change, the force fluctuating as positives and negatives collided and fought for supremacy. The retreating rebels now seemed to start to rally, despite crumbling at the initial assault by the sith and the Legionairre. The sorcerer squinted his eyes as he spotted a new figure appearing on the horizon, cleaving a path through the advancing imperials towards his location. It only took a flash of green light and a ferocious roar for him to surmise that a jedi had reared its head out from its hole. It was unsurprising, Korrado was a desperate man from what Sal could tell from the intel briefing before he and Nayel were deployed, he was a more radical strategist who was willing to make necessary alliances to assure victory. Already, the presence of the oversized cat cleaving her way forwards started to raise the morale and spirits of the recently fleeing forces. It appeared the battle wasn't over yet, perhaps only just beginning now.

Taking the big guns would have to wait, the cat may have been insufferably mad but she was an insufferably mad cat who wielded a lightsaber. Sal didn't know what Nayel had chosen to do, he was behind him somewhere with the turret probably. Still, a 2v1 was not something that favored him, at least, not yet. It was upon seeing a second jedi appear in the midst of the chaos that a course of action became clear. With great speed and skill, Sal nimbly pressed a series of buttons on the control panel of his left forearm. Far behind him, his personal Assault Drone whirred to life, the machine hovered up off the ground and exited the open side doors of the transport ship. Sal chose his target carefully, his forces already had the better soldiers as well as firepower burrowing down like thunder on the two jedi and their rebels. In the end, it was the Kiffar who Sal set an Attack Marker on, ordering the drone to follow and shoot freely at him when the opportunit arose. Given the muddy terrain, the hail of blasterfire aiming at both jedi, and the presence of Nayel and Sal, an opening was sure to come sooner or later for an opportunistic strike. For now, the Assault Drone hovered overhead the battlefield, its gatling guns trained on the Kiffar from about 20 meters overhead.

2 platoons now were called into action by Nayel it seemed, Sal could hear the orders come through his telecomms. Concentrating firepower on the two primary combatants would make their jobs easier to wipe up their stains. "3'd and 4'th platoons, continue suppressive fire on the rebel lines, don't give them a single breath of calm! Wait for my signal and then rally to my location!" Sal shouted over the comms before turning his attention back to the two jedi. Nayel had engaged the cat. Sal's drone now ominously flew circles above the human like a vulture, the sorcerer could make his first move as well.

Sal switched his lightsaber to his left hand and grounded his feet in the mud, preparing for any attack that might come from the direction of the two jedi and allowing himself to act quickly with minimal movement. It was the cat though that he initially focused his attention on. The sith roared in joyous despair as he quickly raised his right arm towards the cat, arcs of blue sith lightning lashed out in tandem with Nayel's barrage of blasterfire. This was not just any ordinary sith lightning though, no, no, no, this was a sorcerer's sith lightning. Sal had specialized in telekinesis and energy manipulation in tandem with his research, his lightning was far more powerful than the common worms that comprised the marauders. It was with cold fury that the sith focused his hatred on the jedi, the empowered and longer range barrage of electricity firing in her direction as Nayel fired. She may have been able to block a few blaster bolts with her blade, but it seemed highly unlikeley or flat-out impossible to do so and avoid his lightning.

He had glorious science on his side after all.

Spoiler

1.Sal activates his Assault Drone and orders it to hone in on Jalen, currently it i would fly above the battlefield around him at about 20 meters above the ground.
2. He orders the other two platoons of Imperials to continue firing at the rebels with their superior firepower to pin them down while Nayel's other two platoons close in on the jedi.
3. As Nayel fires at Emerald, Sal assumes a defensive stance to react should Jalen attack him before firing a powerful barrage of Sith lightning knowing that the chances of her being able to block both him and Nayel's attack is slim to none.

 

[Undine]

The battle began to churn and the enemy forces swelled as if ready to bulge forth and strike against them. Many dozens of stormtroopers turned their attention to the Jedi at the command of their officers, the sith seemed less inclined to actually lead and left most of the commanding to her better, one to embody authority another to actually wield it, as it were. The moment was brief between the orders and their execution, she had to admit that at least, the Imperials did know how to wage a war well, and their battles more so. Still, Emerald had been trained for war, deployed even before she managed to craft her own lightsaber, and had grown accustomed to Imperial tactics. She'd pushed them, and they intended to push back.

As the militia fighters around her began jumping into the trench before them, retaking even that small inch of land, Emerald thought it best to join them. Without turning to look at Jalen, Emerald instead made ready to jump into the trench below as a mounted turret started to fire upon them, narrowly avoiding multiple rounds of hot particle shots, more than likely aimed at her. She didn't have time to mourn those she'd lead to slaughter, they had known the price of their freedom and fought for it regardless, instead, as made ready to counter the efforts of the enemy mounted on the turret, she felt something much darker and dangerous swell within the Force. She'd noticed it just a moment to late, bringing her lightsaber blade round just in time to avoid the brunt of the pale sith's heinous lightning. The force of it hit her light a sack of boulders, knocked her clean off her feet and down into the mud of the trench below.

She wasn't injured, at least not that she could feel, but the mud didn't agree with her fur in the slightest. On a rather lucky note, she was out of range for just about anyone until she stood back up again, allowing her some short respite at least. By now both armies were clashing into one another with renewed fervor, and Emerald knew it wouldn't be long until the rebel line broke a second time. No amount of inspiration could stonewall the imperial assault, not within their current odds. Her best bet would the lead a tactical retreat into the courtyard, attempt to force the sith to tip his hand. But first, to get our from the mud. She may have needed a moment to catch her breath after getting the wind knocked out from her, but she couldn't let the soldiers around her think she'd gone down that easily.

Standing to her feet again, her robes clinging to the slippery ground below, she reached out with the Force, honed in on enemy commander as she reached for her discblade attached to the utility belt and wiping the loose traces of mud off it's blades. She'd really need to focus for this one, the distance would make it rather difficult but not impossible. Under ideal circumstances Emerald had been able to maintain control of the weapon from twice the current distance. The advantage of the discblade over a lightsaber was that it was silent, no glowing blades, and the wielder could keep themselves hidden at a distance so long as they maintained their focus. She stood, bent at the knees as soldiers fought and died around her, focusing her mind and honing in on her target before swing her arm with such force as if to hurl a felled tree at the enemy.

Her discblade soared high into the sky, at least 30 meters as she knelt and concentrated on the spinning blades. She'd keep up her focus until the Force attuned weapon bared down on her target, @Tristar, she'd cause it to follow him if she had too, at least a short ways as to much alteration of it's path would throw it off target. With any luck the discblade would come to a halt as it lodged itself in between the man's shoulder and neck, though even then she doubted it's kill him outright even if it did land home. At the least though he'd need immediate medical attention. Success or fail, the Horansi wouldn't let up her assault there, redrawing her lightsaber, she'd prepare to meet the face of her true enemy, the sith who'd knocked her into the mud. That'd be where the real fight would happen. For the briefest of moments she wondered how Jalen had fared, after having the air kicked out of her lungs by the sith's Force attack, she hadn't bothered to see where his feet had landed in all this.

@Kyle: The Rogue​

 

[René]

Jalen steadied his blade alongside Emerald, anticipating an attack by the Sith before them; however, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an assault drone take flight and begin to fly towards him. That was when all Hell broke loose. Suddenly, the young Kiffar found both himself and the rebel trenches near him under intense fire from 2 platoons of storm troopers. The attack and amount of blaster bolts caught him way off guard; he was able to deflect most of them, but 2 managed to get direct hits on his chestplate, which luckily absorbed the damage, and still a couple more grazed his shoulder and leg. Jalen found himself switching from the dueling-focused Djem-So variant of Form V to Shien, the blaster deflecting variant.

A large turret blast hit the ground by his feet, blowing the Jedi up and back into a trench. He hit the ground hard on his already slightly-hurt shoulder, causing a rush of pain throughout his arm. Jalen shakily stood up, discarding his Dark brown cloak and calling his lightsaber back to his hand, just in time to deflect a bolt from the assault drone. Calling out to a nearby rebel captain, he said, "Get one or two of your snipers on that thing! It will cause us a lot of trouble if you don't!!" Steadying himself the Kiffar leaped from the trench, activating his second blade in mid-air to block another blaster bolt, and then began to rush towards the storm trooper platoons.

He leaped up about 10 yards in font of them, landing in between them before killing 4 with some quick paced strikes. A powerful force wave pushed another 10 or so backwards, but within seconds Jalen found himself in retreat. There were so many of them. Once again the Jedi found himself in front of the trenches, deflecting back blaster fire. He noticed Emerald suddenly take a blast of Force lightning from the pale Sith. Jalen tensed, forgetting all about the storm troopers, the battle, the rebels. He felt anger rising within him. The Kiffar forced himself to calm, to surpress the anger and hate within him. There is no emotion, only peace. He forced himself to focus once again on the troopers; he just hoped that Emerald wasn't too badly hurt... Jalen suddenly cried out in pain as grenade exploded near him, sending shrapnel into his right hand/wrist and knocking him once again into the trench. A storm trooper must have noticed his hesitation and loss of focus, taking advantage of the opportunity. Jalen coughed, and noticed that his lightsaber seemed a bit shorter than normal...the bottom half was mostly gone.

 

[Tristar]

The beautiful thing about storm troopers weren't in their killing efficiency or in their stone-cold faces as they shot innocents down; it wasn't in their nightmare black armor or their casual outlook on violence; after all his time leading his own men into battle, it was the fierce determination and unwavering resolution of each individual storm trooper. Harsh, inhumane training saw to it that every storm trooper was expendable and even in the face of two Jedi, his men still fought like lions. He intended for them to go home as victors, even if they have to limp their way back.

The air crackled and spat as a part of the sandbag wall exploded into a fine mist, covering the commander's visors and blinding him- debilitated he staggered back before tripping on a small stone that dislodged itself under his strenuous weight. He slipped and landed on his back with a grunt. As he turned to his side to get back up, a sharp pang of pain shot up his entire left arm, followed by the cold sensation of metal at the tip of his fingers. He leaned back against the wall, dully remembering to warn his unit of incoming snipers. Wiping off the dust from his visor the man looked at his left hand, his vision blurred by a sudden rush of adrenaline; the two missing tips of his pinkie and half of his ring finger, the blood flowing freely.

Feeling a little light headed, he reached into one of his tactical pouches and produced a single handheld device; he reached around and took off his helmet, exposing his bare neck. Stabbing his only stim Nayel shuddered briefly as a rush of energy refocused his vision and dulled the pain. Gripping his left hand, he made sure he suffered no real loss in automotive functions (even balling it into a fist felt awkward, given the sudden gap of space left.) before clambering back up to the sandbag wall, slapping his helmet back on and wincing as his head bounced in the confines of the helmet. Remembering that there were snipers targeting him and the mounted gun, he picked up his fallen rifle and weakly rolled into a crater ten meters ahead of him, landing in a slump. Still clenching his left hand into a fist repeatedly to hasten the clotting of his blood, he re-evaluated the situation.

The Kiffar had been repulsed by sheer blaster fire, if not by ardent strength, but sniper fire was pinning down his mounted gun. His partner had landed a good blow on the senior Jedi, but Nayel paid the price for their defiance. The man wasn't one for vengeance personally- it was war, nothing was personal unless they made it to be. One thing was for sure- the Jedi wasn't nearly as imposing as the stories made them to be. Shrugging to himself, he keyed his commo with his right hand, head and eyes on a swivel in case the Jedi had more dirty tricks up their sleeves.

"Second platoon, switch to storm tactics: flamethrowers out, burn the trenches and get to the Kiffar. First platoon, I want counter-sniper fire and kill those blasted marksmen. All units near the Sith and the Jedi, switch to storm tactics as well: torch the area, choke them out. Cassano, displace that kriffing gun and get it moving!" he winced slightly at the dull pang of pain.

If he caught one of the Jedi he was going to make sure he got his due compensation. "Skirmish orders still applies, go go!"

Spoiler: Action Summary

1. Sniper engages Nayel; takes minor damage ( (2) Finger tips lost, left hand. ).
2. Nayel injects himself with AI-1 to suppress pain.
3. Changes cover from sandbag wall to crater, 3 meters deep and 8 meters wide. Advances 10 yards ahead.
4. 2nd platoon now switches to flamethrowers and advances on Kiffar ( @Kyle: The Rogue ). Suffers 8 dead, 6 wounded. 27 remaining. )
5. 1st platoon engages with enemy snipers.
6. Any units within 10 yards of Jedi will switch to flamethrowers and advance on target; 3 are within range of Emerald ( @Undine )
7. Mounted gun no longer active; relocating under cover from 1st platoon.

 

[Hol Horse]

For a moment there was elation, though this was quickly replaced by disappointment.

His lightning, while significantly more powerful than the average marauder's, wasn't enough to outright kill the cat. Sal frowned, the sounds of the battle fading away into the background as he inhaled the presence of fear and desperation clouding the dark side. The enemy rally it seemed was short lived, the tides had quickly turned back in their favor as the imperials sent the two jedi reeling. Things were as it should be, as they naturally were. Still, there were glimmers of hope and determination shining like beacons through the fog of black war, the jedi still had the will to fight as did her padawan. It was a noble trait, but one which Sal would see her kind be killed for. The lightning hadn't killed her no, but it had certainly knocked the wind out of her and disoriented her from the impact. She would need to catch her breath, which it seemed is what was occurring now that she had disappeared behind a nearby trench.

Nayel could handle the Padawan, he was small fry compared to the big kitten. The sith's eyes were trained on the trench where he knew the jedi to be recovering, even as he spoke into his comms, "Orders stand, continue suppressive fire. They'll either run out of men or munitions before we do, don't let up now. Remember to wait for my signal" Sal bluntly stated to the commanders of his two platoons. He didn't know their current condition, he expected that in the fighting some had been taken out, but that was a necessary sacrifice. Pain was the way of the dark side.

Sal noticed the advancing troopers near him switching to their flamethrowers, no doubt on Nayel's orders. It was a good strategy. 3 troopers now were within range of where Sal believed the cat to be hiding. Silently, the sith shifted his stance once again to a more defensive position. His saber was currently back in his right hand, pointed perpendicular above him in a typical Soresu fighting stance, though slightly angled moreso than usual in case he might need to quickly defend himself. With his free hand, he nimbly pulled out his Sunspear pistol, aiming it at where the jedi was recovering. His left arm held the gun, outstretched slightly ahead of him. At this close a range, it would be hard to miss. With both these items prepped for use, Sal slowly began to walk towards the trench with the 3 other flamethrower equipped stormtroopers who were now spurting pillars of fire out ahead of them. "Burn her out" Sal hissed, his gun trained ahead of him.

They would put the jedi in a rather unsavory situation. If she stayed in the trench to recover, she would surely be torched to death by the stormtroopers who were already in range. If she tried to jump out and attack them, Sal's blaster would likely be able to land a few strong sunspear bolts on her- she couldn't fight 3 troopers as well as him, let alone while jumping up from the trench or raising her saber approximately to deflect his bolts. Even if she used some sort of acrobatics to zip up and over to fight him, she'd be an easy target for his sith lightning, as well as probably slip upon landing on the mud..... Of course, she could always just flee, take her shell shocked padawan with her, and let the good nasty imperials have their fun.

The choice was hers. Fury, or fire.

Spoiler

1. Gets a hard on from sniffing that dank dark side juju
2. Takes a defensive Soresu stance while pointing his gun at the trench where Emerald is preparing to attack.
3. Notices Nayel's stormtroopers and walks in line with them slowly towards Emerald, flamethrowers blazing and in range.
4. Keeps his gun pointed where Emerald's trench is and waits for her to either attack or flee, knowing that the flamethrowers or his blaster, in tandem with the muddy terrain, give them a strong tactical advantage

 

[Undine]

She couldn't have been sure if her attack struck true, her target seemed to be alive or at least that was what the Force told her, but surrounded by so much death it could be difficult to know sure. Either way, once her discblade returned to her it did indeed have blood on it. For now at least her troubles had changed, the suppression fire had changed into literal suppression fire, with the flames roaring overhead as the wielders of the dangerous weapons moved forward. Emerald could sense the sith among them, but she could also sense the pain flowing through Jalen. He was soon to be a Jedi knight and needed to stand up, she hadn't sheltered him from the horrors of the galaxy, whether or not he'd been ready for open combat would have to be discussed at a later time, for now he was on his own until she could beat back the sith.

That was it, she knew it to be so. If they could manage to defeat the sith here on the open field then it would be doubtful the imperials could storm the rebel garrison alone, not with two Jedi defending it. Still, Emerald could feel herself getting worked up, knowing her son was in pain focused her mind, sharpened her senses and when the thrill of battle threatened to consume her she pulled on the Force for guidance. With each second the troopers moved in closer, the air itself heating up as rebels made a run for it, fear coursing all around her. She would have laughed at how well her current situation mirrored the war between her fellow Jedi and the Sith so well. Allies turning tell and running from the flames of darkness that threatened to consume everything. The Jedi standing alone against the horde as death rushed in.

Emerald had never denied the power of the dark side, it was there, the Sith burned hotter than any Jedi. They also burnt out quicker. That was what the Sith never understood, they were fleeting, no matter how many times they rose from their own ashes in the end they'd burn out all the same. She stilled herself, allowing her rising fury to melt into the Force, her mind calmed and focused. The flames overhead had begun to dip over into the trench itself, the heat alone began to hurt her face. It was doubtful the sound of her lightsaber would be heard over the roar of the burning air. Perhaps the sith thought he'd backed her into a corner, perhaps he knew better and was simply waiting for her to strike. Emerald hoped it had been the later of the two, hoped he'd be ready for her when she did make her strike. So she did.

Once again her discblade would be thrown, this time from a much smaller distance and with much greater precision. Rather than targeting the sith directly, she struck the compressed fuel tanks of the flamethrowers, her Force attuned weapon shredding the lesser metal hidden in the small of the stormtroopers' backs. Exploding into a large inferno, each of the stormtroopers yelled and screamed in pain as they burned to death in their suits. The blast reaching nearly four meters outward as the bits and pieces of their armor and flesh flung across the air in all manner of directions. It would be highly doubtful the sith so very close to them would get away unscuffed however, and Emerald intended to capitalize on the distraction.

Letting her discblade fall to the ground temporarily rather than calling it back to her, she leapt from the trench once the worst of the blast had hurled itself overhead. Her lightsaber ignited in a defensive position in front of her as she landed within half a dozen feet of the sith. Without allowing a moment to go unused, nor allowing her target a moment's respite, Emerald immediately twirled into a spinning dance of death as her lightsaber spun around her with every step forward. Speed, strength, and stature were all on her side, and despite any potential injuries he might have earned from his foolish attempt to pin down a Jedi, no sith would be offered mercy, especially one who had threatened the life of her adopted son.

Without a doubt, his use of Force lightning earlier had pegged him as a Force based opponent. Emerald was no pushover when it came to her Force abilities either, but she'd never allowed herself to fall behind in her physical abilities either. She had no intention of letting his mistake earn her mercy either, she would use both to sets of abilities to defeat him. Her only goal before watching him die would be to learn his name. Sith or not, no one deserved to be forgotten and it was doubtful the sith would have much desire to remember his name once he'd fallen to a Jedi. With a furious growl, her spinning blades would attempt to clash with his own, emerald against ruby, light against the dark. Emerald half had a mind to just pick up the thing humanoid and break him with her bare hands, but she would have to suppress such urges, at least for now.

@Kyle: The Rogue
​

Spoiler: Actions

1: Takes out the three stormtroopers, causing thier fuel tanks to explode.
2: Jumps the trench with her lightsaber in a defensive positon, ready to deflect incoming fire.
3: Attempts to engage with Sal, @Ravendark

 

[René]

Jalen's ears still rang from the explosion, and he noticed he many wounds in his right hand where pics of shrapnel had gone in. As much as he wanted to calm himself and push away the pain, the Kiffar couldn't help but let the pain and anger through this time. He began to draw on it, using it to supreme his own pain. Picking up his lightsaber, the Jedi once again rose from the trench, noticing the advancing storm troopers had switched to flamethrowers, most likely with the intent to burn the trenches, and, from the look of things, capture or kill him. Jalen would let no such thing happen.

With a thrust of his left hand, the troopers with activated flamethrowers found their hands turned towards themselves, the wrist-mounted flamethrowers burning the very people who carried them. Without pausing, Jalen activated his remaining blade and began to move forward, deflecting blaster bolts back at the troopers. When another group of four troopers came close to him, they also switched to flamethrowers, causing Jalen to somersault back and throw his blade. He guided it with the Force, decapitating them before returning his lightsaber to his hand. "All nearby units, finish them off! Captain, I want continued fire at that drone as well, and get a sniper on their commander. Have a nearby platoon defend the other advancing one! Come on, fight for your freedom!!"

The Kiffar could tell his hand wasn't getting any better, but he ignored it for now. He made quick jump, landing about 9 feet to the right of Emerald. He kept his blade pointed down, unsure of exactly what to do. Jalen felt the warm blood running from his hand, and moved his blade to his left hand. The pain was only getting worse, but he supressed it once again, choosing to rush the Sith with his blade at his side to maximize speed. Should he get to him, Jalen would slash upwards from the pale creep's torso to his shoulder with the intent of cutting him in half. The sooner he was dwad, the quicker the battle would end.

Spoiler: Actions

1. Jalen attacks the 2nd platoon, killing about 10-12
2. Jalen orders nearby rebels (23) to engage the rest of the 2nd platoon, and another rebel platoon (26) to advance and defend against the Imperial 1st platoon.
3. Orders a sniper to fire on Nayel (@Tristar)
4. Advances on Sal (@Ravendark) with lightsaber pointed to the ground and side for speed. If he reaches Sal, he intends to atgempt to cut Sal in half from torso to shoulder.

 

[Tristar]

The dull rhythmic thumping of the newly positioned mounted gun came as a relief to the many storm troopers, Nayel himself breathing easier as the horrid bolts struck their targets true. He had failed in his original objective of separating the two Jedi from each other, suffering casualties in both platoons sent to sunder the Kiffar. If it was any consolation, the tides of battle were with the Empire, if only by mere technicality. He heard the distant sonic clap of a sniper rifle and ducked instinctively as the ground behind him exploded in a shower of dust and stone. He grumbled to himself as his own men begun to hunt down the rebel snipers.

1st platoon's job kill tally concerning the snipers had gone up by one as he marked on the radio chatter in the background, noting with satisfaction that the troopers training pulled through in the end. Nothing he could do about the glowsticks but that was just how the world was: unfair and unjust. He kept his rifle close to his chest and dashed out from his crater, ducking under the withering fire of the rebels that were two parts volume and one part panic. He leapt into a trench close to the Sith in the middle of two rebel troopers who jumped back in shock at the sudden appearance of the black-armoured trooper. Nayel wasted little precious time and headbutted the first before hip-firing his rifle into the second man, catching him in the chest at point blank. He dispatched of the wounded rebel with similar prejudice, a quick shot to the head.

Needless pain and suffering just wasn't his method, something he hoped the Jedi appreciated in case things went south.

Peaking from the safety of the trench line he noted the Sith's position to his left, maybe twelve yards away. He quickly spotted the charging Kiffar in time to act instinctively; dropping his rifle and pulling out his bladed-side arm, he raised his left arm and triggered the suit's wrist mounted micro-filament net launcher, sending a razor sharp man-sized net at his target. As soon as the netting left the ejection port he clambered out of the trench, fueled by adrenaline and the earlier stim-shot. He raised the blaster in his hand and quickly emptied the magazine, sending all eight shots at the Kiffar's midsection.

Spoiler: Action Summary

1. Mounted gun relocated; begins suppression fire on rebels.
2. 1st Platoon kills a sniper.
3. Nayel relocates to 12 yards away from Sal to his right.
4. Spots @Kyle: The Rogue
5. Fires wrist-mounted micro-filament net launcher at Kiffar.
6. Leaps out of trench and empties all 8 (twin shots) in Gratia at Kiffar mid-section.

 

[Hol Horse]

Sal had been prepared for some sort of counterattack, yet the way in which the cat choose to do so had caught him somewhat off-guard all things considered.

The blast of the exploding flamethrowers in itself wasn't fatal, the concussive wave of the explosion was fairly muted. It was the shrapnel that flew every which way though that proved to be more deadly. The Devaronian howled in pain as he hurriedly shuffled backwards, bits and pieces of sharp metal firing at him as he tried to put some space inbetween himself and the enemy trench. He dropped his Sunspear, instinctively bringing his hand up in front of his face to keep any stray pieces of metal from piercing his eyes. His Dewback armor had thankfully mitigated the damage to most of his body, but his cheeks and exposed body parts were still stinging. Pain turned to frustration though, and from that sprout of frustration grew a thicket of rage. The area around the sith darkened as he felt his anger beginning to crack through his perfect white frame, his connection to the dark side was a far darker and more primal thing than simple anger, and now it threatened to come forth against these maggots.

A level of clarity came with this deeper connection to the darkside, one that now directed itself at the two jedi approaching him. The padawan was less important than the physically dominating cat who now was coming at him full bore. The sith backpeddalled, making a cushion of room between himself and the dual bladed jedi. He couldn't see Nayel at the moment, though he saw that someone had shot a net at the padawan as well as a full round of blasters. Given the slippery terrain, the committed momentum, and the predictable path straight towards Sal, it would be pretty hard to miss the attack.

As Sal continued to backpedal away from the approaching jedi, he would lower his left hand to his side as if to unholster and attempt to pull out his Trishot blaster, his right arm holding his lightsaber out in front of him to retaliate against any sort of attack. In a swift movement though that might be lost in the blink of the eye, the sith's left hand continued past the blaster to instead reach around behind him and nimbly grab onto a canister of firespray. This left arm would then, moving with great speed, hold the cannister down at hip-height before releasing it's fiery contents at the advancing jedi. Given the close range between them, as well as the rapid and fluid spped with which Sal had suddenly activated the bottle through sleight of hand, as well as the jedi's momentum, it would be highly improbable for her to avoid the oncoming spew of fire or attempt to crush it with the force as she had with the flamethrowers. Given his backpedaling as well, the space between them still enough to make a move, he had the window of opportunity to carry out such an attack.

Regardless of wether the cannister of firespray hit the jedi or not, Sal would drop the bottle as quickly as he had fired it and curl his wrist upwards to face the jedi's body to let out a hissing torrent of sorcerer's lightning at the point blank target.

Meanwhile, in the battle as a whole, Sal's troops, the 3'd and 4'th platoons, were still laying out suppressive fire as they had been since the start of the battle. Through skill and sheer volume, they had been aiming to pin down the enemy rebels from the Imperial trenches, firing a barrage of blasterfire to pin the enemy down save for the two jedi. As the kiffar ordered an advance, said suppression fire only increased as the Imperial lines opened up a virtual shooting gallery at the advancing rebels. Sure, as the rebels tried to establish their own barrage of suppressive fire they would kill a fair few stormtroopers, but the cost for this attempt to swing momentum was great. The 3'd and 4'th platoons would cut down swathes of rebels as they now attempted to rush the battlefield, their efforts only emboldened by the functional repeater mowing down the stragglers as well. The rebels were outgunned as it was, being in the open to advance and defend against the 1'st and 2'd platoons only made them easy targets for the well-entrenched troopers now using them for easy target practice.

Spoiler

1. Sal drops his Sunspear to mitigate the shrapnel coming at him.
2. Sal backpedals as fast as possible while Emerald attempts to attack him, his speed still above average despite poor physical strengh, creating some buffer room.
3. As he backpedals, he reaches down with his free left hand to grab his Trishot Blaster from his hip but instead continues the movement in a sleight of hand to grab his cannister of Firespray for what may be called 'the oldest trick in the book'.
4. Sal fires the cannister of firespray from hip level, keeping the movement as minimal and flowing as possible to allow as little reaction time for Emerald as he can before dropping the bottle to let out a torrent of sorcerer's lightning even if the former misses.
4. The 3'd and 4'th platoons, which have been laying down suppressive fire since the start of the fight from the Imperial trenches, mow down 30 of the advancing rebels, though 10 still die in the process as fire is exchanged. Taking the initial pre-PvP potion of the thread into account, as well as the fact that the Rebels explicitly started off with 100 troopers, the Imperial forces are on the verge of being able to overwhelm the rebel base in the next few posts unless the tide of battle shifts.

 

[Undine]

Emerald was lucky she guessed, having seen the horrible effects Firespray could have on people first hand a couple of times over the years. The sith standing before her had somehow managed to spray the deadly chemical across the left side of her face, her shoulder, and down her back just as she twisted around to strike him with her lightsaber. Unfortunately for him, her forward momentum had still been enough to push for through the pain as her lightsaber severed his left hand just as he sent another round of sith lightning at her, this time hitting her in the chest and causing her to blackout for a couple seconds. The impact itself had sent her body flying, and Emerald was glad to be separated from the demonic clown.

It didn't take long for the Firespray to start eating it's way through her leather robes, though she did manage to come back to her senses as she found herself clawing her way through the mug back to the trenches. Her Nexu helmet had fallen off, thankfully taking most of the corrosive chemical with it, but Emerald could still taste blood as a hole was burned through the left side of her cheek. She took in a mouth full of mud in the hope the wet dirt would stop or simply stall the effects of the Firespray. Her hands clawed at her robes, shredding them as they began to dissolve, exposing her skin to the same pain as her face.

Emerald was a strong woman, she'd grown up in some of the most difficult environments and had nearly two decades of experience with the Jedi, she had known pain in all it's many forms. This pain, while extraordinary, would come to pass like all others did. She thanked the Force for the mud though as it was all she had to make sure she wouldn't die. Most of the chemical had on her robes, which she'd quickly torn off. Still, much of her left side, including her left cheek, and much of her back had been severely burned. Her right shoulder and much of her chest was charred and her fur seared into her skin, most likely from the sith lightning, though Emerald didn't even feel pain, just cold.

She began shaking uncontrollably as she looked for Jalen, she could feel her body trying to pass out again, but she fought it with everything she had. She felt something hard in her hand and realized it was her lightsaber as a stray bolt hit her in her right calf, forcing her to her knees. Again she could feel the pain, the sensation of chills expanding across her entire body as she started to hyperventilate and cry out sent her into a mini-panic. The pain of everything started to rush in on her as the shock lifted, and in it's place Emerald knew she needed to draw on the Force. Attempting to calm herself and focus, Emerald let the pain meet the stone wall of her resolve as the Force filled her lungs with renewed breath. Her mind stopped trying to slip from her and her focus sharpened.

The more her senses started to pull themselves together the more pain she felt. Emerald met that pain with raw power, drawing upon the strength of the Force to keep her moving. She instinctively rubbed mug into her fur in an attempt to stop the corrosive effects of the Firespray as she moved in the direction of Jalen. They needed to go, Emerald knew she only had a few more minutes until her body gave out on her and there was only so long that she could use the Force to stave it off. Her hands were covered in her own blood, as pulling at her robes earlier had left them exposed to the Firespray in full. Somehow she still managed to grab ahold of Jalen's collar, pulling the boy back to her as she started off in the direction of the rebel base.

Though no longer ignited she still held her lightsaber though, gripping it as tightly as she could, as if the crystals inside could provide her with enough strength to make it to their escape shuttle. Emerald said nothing to her son, there was nothing to say. They had failed the people of Belsavis, there was no denying that. Emerald wouldn't, couldn't even, waste her time thinking about how close she'd been to killing that sith. He'd beaten her with one of the nastiest tricks she could have thought of, and that was that. Jalen was too young to continue fighting on his own, nor would Emeral have been willing to let him if he had been older. With no other Jedi to support his efforts, he would have been killed or captured. Besides, she needed someone to make sure she made it back to the Jedi Order.​

@Kyle: The Rogue

Spoiler: Actions

Emerald gets rekted.
Emerald survives.
Emerald flees.

 

[René]

As both Jalen and Emerald closed in on the ugly, unnaturally pale Sith, the Jedi began to think that victory was possible. If both Emerald and himself could defeat this Sith, the battle would turn in the tide of the rebels. Drawing on the Force to increase his speed even more, he rushed towards the Sith faster than he had ever gone before. It was also when his world turned upside down. Literally.

The sneaky commander of the Stormtroopers had somehow managed to get into a nearby rebel trench relatively undetected, and had his eyes trained on Jalen. The Kiffar tried to stop and dodge the razor-sharp net and numerous blaster bolts flying towards, but his momentum instead carried him forward still, about 6 feet behind Emerald and the Sith, where he stumbled and awkwardly dived to his right. A gasp of pain escaped his mouth as the edge of the net shredded his right leg, two or three blaster bolts traveled through the side of his torso, and another went through his injured right hand.

The net had somewhat lodged itself in his leg, carrying his falling body a little farther back. As the net got caught in a sandbag and ripped itself from his leg, Jalen noticed his still-activated lightsaber flying through the air. With a last attempt to attack a member of the Imperial Army, he swept his uninjured hand through the air, directing his lightsaber in a high arc through the air. Should the commander not notice the lightsaber and attempt to stop or dodge it, it would likely only sever an ear or something. Jalen's body finally hit the ground in a trench, still at a an awkward angle, causing a Crack to split the air as whatever bones were left in his right hand splintered.

The Kiffar finally laid still as he rolled onto his back, wondering what had happened to Emerald. From what he had managed to hear, nothing good. A familiar furred hand gripped his collar and helped him up, aiding him off the battlefield. Jan was exhausted, his eyes barely open. They had lost. It was all he could think about as he and Emerald left the battlefield.

Spoiler: Actions

Jalen gets his right hand dismantled.
Pushes his lightsaber towards @Tristar, although the most damage it could do is sever his ear.