The Battle of Thila

[sparrow]

"Do you really think your little tricks can take down a weaponmaster?" the Togruta snarled as her lightsaber cleaved through the metal chair, splitting it into two jagged pieces. As she attempted to charge forward, the two pieces curved through the air, looping around to strike from behind, forcing her to quickly turn around to defend against the new attack.

"Seems to be working pretty well," Zarene taunted back, as she held her hands in front of her, her fingers appearing to direct a dozen invisible strings, pulling and tugging on the various debris scattered about the room.

Their fight had taken them into what appeared to be an empty mess hall that overlooked one of the fortress's many courtyards. It was, for Zarene, the perfect arena. Tables and benches were lifted from the ground, turned into lethal projectiles. Among the Sith Order, while Zarene wasn't the strongest telekinetic in terms of pure strength, few could match her talents at directing multiple flows simultaneously, as her opponent quickly discovered.

But the Jedi had her own skills as well. Zarene had thrown dozens of projectiles at her, but her lightsaber was a blur that had kept all but a few from striking, and those that did had been superficial at best. She's closing the distance, slowly but surely, Zarene thought, And judging by that stupid arrogant smirk on her face, she knows it. If only I can get one solid hit...

Of the two pieces of whirling metal debris, the Jedi's saber swooped low to intercept the first, as she attempted to duck the other. But she miscalculated. There was a loud crack as the tip of one of her long montrals went flying through the air. For a brief moment, she looked stunned, before her face contorted with fury as she let out an ear-splitting shriek

"YOU. BROKE. MY. MONTRAL!"

Her sudden influx of anger and rage seemed to imbue her with new strength, as she sliced through Zarene's next attack, and lunged forward with incredible speed, the very picture of dark side berserker rage.

Zarene spun to the side as the Jedi's blade cut through the air where she had been standing a moment before. The Jedi spun her saberstaff back around, thrusting the blade forward with lightning speed. Zarene attempted to dodge again. Just a hair too slow.

The sky blue saber pierced through her lower torso. Gasping, Zarene fell to the ground. The Togruta Jedi gave a sinister chuckle. "It was a good run little girl. You even managed to wound me. But at the end of the time, you're just another notch on my hilt." She raised her saber, preparing to deliver one last decapitating blow.

The bench struck her from behind with enough force to send her flying into the air, crashing into and shattering the window overlooking the courtyard below. Broken shards of glass rained down around Zarene as the Jedi disappeared from view, but young Sith barely noticed, her strength having fled her body. She could taste blood in her mouth, and her vision was blurring. Yeah,... was a good run. Loser. She managed a small, satisfied smile before consciousness left her.

[Rugs]

Nieraan stood atop a short bunker that squatted over the mouth of the mountain fortress. He was high now, well up the mountain’s slopes, away from even the walls that guarded the main approaches. The battlefield, or what remained of it spread out below him.

Evening was giving up its last breath before nightfall. The sun threw dying rays of red and orange from where it sat, low on the far eastern horizon. The light cast a somber scene on the rolling, rocky terrain around the mountain, where burning wreckage leaked fingers of smoke into the otherwise clear air like funeral pyres amongst the fields of dead or dying.

Taking the base had been a simple matter once the Sith force established firm control of the walls. As simple as anything in war could be, anyway. But the push to reach and take the walls had been the real brunt of the battle. The rest, as far as he was concerned, was only butcher’s work.

Especially once the air defenses fell.

The Republic fought valiantly, of course. The soldiers and few remaining Jedi had mounted a few daring counterattacks, one of which bled a regiment of Sith soldiers rather severely. A more resourceful pocket of resistance had rigged a portion of the mountain fortress with explosives and waited for Sith forces to push into it. Then they collapsed it, sealing their own fate, but taking hundreds with them.

Pockets of resistance remained, here and there. Nieraan could see the scattered lights of blaster fire in the base and out in the fields, where a contingent of republic soldiers withdrew to try to mount a counterattack.

He couldn’t fault the Republic’s spirit; they fought hard. His armor was scored and scraped, and though he’d lost count of how many soldiers he drained during the day to keep himself going, he was tired. Even so, he was pleased with the day’s events. He’d cut down a few Jedi — one of whom had proven to be extremely troublesome — and his raids behind enemy lines weakened the main forces in the face of the main army’s relentless assault.

I could get used to this, he thought, holding his mask under his arm and grinning as a mountain breeze stirred his hair and kissed his face.

He’d even found Yin on one of his raids. She was unconscious, deep in the base. For a moment, he’d considered leaving her, but he’d hefted her up over his shoulder and carried her out to a makeshift medical tent.

He wondered if she was still there, but it would have to wait.

“Aurellius, we’re closing in on the General,” his comm buzzed. Nieraan sighed softly and pulled his mask back on. “Send me your location,” he answered as he hopped from one roof to another, then the ground. He was heading back down toward the wall, where he could move to catch up with his men as they closed in the Republic general.

“Will do, sir,” the commando answered. “He’s well defended. Lots of Republic holdouts protecting him. We think there’s another Jedi.”

Nieraan hmphed as coordinates pinged up on his mask’s heads-up display. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He hit the ground and changed course, jumping abruptly to a tunnel that would lead to the command center, where he needed to be. “I’ll be there shortly. Inform Hervor, if you haven’t done so. I do believe she’s been looking for our mutual friend.”

[Apillis]

((Final Hervor post in this thread, try to not mind the typos.))

The little chime from Hervor's communicator rang, she paused in her swift steps heading for the main compound of the fortress. It was a message. Her visage cracked an omnious smile as a bit of an inspiration struck her and sent a message of her own in return before she continued on her way with a greater haste than before. For now she was on the hunt.

"General", an ensign at a communications console spoke up to grab the man's attention, "We're losing communication with our men in the west wing. I--... think they're being--"

The young man did not need to say anymore, the General knew what it meant, the Sith managed to breach the main facility, "Send the--"

"Do not send anymore of your men to their deaths against it", interjected a calming collected voice, one with the equanimity that only a Jedi master could yield, "It is no company of mere soldiery and machines that has broken through your defenses."

It was further clear to the General what the situation was now, and with a heavy sigh the old officer inquired to the Jedi master seeking his council, "Then what do you suggest, Master Vyn."

"The fortress is lost, there is no changing this reality--but it is your death that will make their victory a crushing one", the Jedi master explained, "Fortresses fall and are rebuilt, or new ones are merely erected in their place. Life is far more precious than any mere structure of stone and machine. If we move now, as you know if we can manage to reach the east wing by going through the compound's central courtyard, we can get to the shuttle transports and have a chance to escape."

Reluctantly taking heed to Vyn's suggestion the officers and the general quickly begun preparing themselves to move, gathering what weapons and means they could to protect themselves while on the move. They moved quickly in a tight-knit group through the facility's corridors and hallways leading to an opening out into the central courtyard...

((Clicky))

The scene they had stepped into was unsightly. The bodies of soldiers sprawled throughout the wide open courtyard. Little barricades and fortifications made within it beside the courtyard's columns--each either destroyed or proven to provide no protection for what they faced. The bodies of soldiers cut down by lightsaber, some broken and bloodied--flesh torn from their broken forms as if by inhuman monstrosity's own bare hands, others scorched as if by extreme voltage, while several more appeared as though all life--all existence had been bled from their bodies leaving only empty husks behind. But the blood--so much blood, it was the work of an ungodly creature--not by any human or sentient being with life and hope still in their heart.

At the center of it all stood a tall, slim, lanky feminine figure--hazed in sweat and blood from head to toe, and none of that crimson liquid being her own. Eyes of yellow-orange fire gazing upon them as they stood dumbstruck by the horror laid bare at their feet. Even those not sensitive to the Force could feel the thick, dense evil presence of the woman oppressing the area--even through the air they breathe, overwhelming their senses with the resonating scent of blood.

The general quickly drew his pistol and fired, "No!", exclaimed the Jedi master--within a split second a brilliant flash of orange light snapped into existence before the figure launching the blaster bolt right back at the one who fired it.

"Sir!", the comm officer shouted in all the devotion and fear of a loyal soldier as she stepped in front of the deflected blaster bolt taking the hit for the general. The old man's eyes wide as he caught her lifeless body in his arms, realizing she was killed by his own shot the Sith Lord before them deflected back at him.

"Don't fire another shot!", the Jedi master demanded of all those with him.

"Nonsense.", the creature finally spoke now with her blazing orange lightsaber in hand, "By all means... Shoot."

"You...", the general grunted in his anger at last recognizing her visage through the blood and sweat that covered her, "--you're the one who lead this... massacre."

Hervor's visage then cracked a faint smile, "I am.", she dismissively replied as if disinterested in speaking any further with the old man. Those intense blazing eyes of yellow-orange glaring intently at the Jed master. Vyn with all the ease and serenity of a master of his ilk gazing back. Everything between their eyes meeting became less than peripheral, for in reality stripping away all the posturing and grandiose armies and weapons of war--this is what it all truly boiled down to--the ancient and continuous cycle of light and dark colliding for sway to determine the path in which the galaxy takes. Everything else, the hundreds, thousands, even millions that have died in past and may very well die in the present and future conflicts are all nothing more than superfluous pretenses to moments like what is transpiring. Some of the more farsighted Jedi see it and understand it and thus seek to evade the numerous deaths to strike at the heart of the matter, whereas some of the Sith who also recognize it just do not care and thereby seek to cause as much wanton death as possible to set the Jedi off kilter--antagonize them to engage in warfare. Either way, they always lead to these confrontations where all the pretense has been removed and all that is left are the two avatars of light and dark to face one another to decide which aspect of the Force will hold sway within the galaxy... at least... for a time.

Vyn took several steps forward ahead of the group before telling them, "Continue through the passage to my left, it should still get you to the east wing. She will not attack, for it will leave her open to my own.", Hervor's brow furrowed in response to this assertion of the Jedi master, somewhat amused by it, but she did not contest it as she remained where she stood merely watching the general and entourage hurriedly shuffling along to escape the situation under the guardianship of the Jedi master.

Looking upon the monstrous spidery figure before him, he went on to state, "I know who you are and I know your terrible crimes--"

"Save it, master Jedi.", Hervor interjected taking on a dismissive tone once again.

"Hervor--"

"I'll ABC it for you, master Jedi--I don't care.", Hervor utter interjecting with a gnashing forceful authoritative statement that quickly quieted the Jedi master, "Name my 'crimes', my 'sins', my past wrongs--my indulgences of evil and darkness or whatever moniker you wish to give the deeds I have done. I don't care. I did not care over the centuries I committed them, and to arrogantly think I'll suddenly sway simply because you spew them in the regurgitated swill of a Jedi's forced compassion for an enemy only grants more credence to my needed opposition against you.", at last moving from where she stood within the courtyard's center, each step of hers ominously bringing her closer to her prey, "This is not about what outcome will better serve your conscience and piety toward the light, master Jedi. This is about whether or not your will--will survive the opposition of mine own."

If one were to blink they would have missed the snapping into existence the blade of green light as it clashed with that of one of blazing orange by its wielders charge. Pale yellow light emitted upon the blades clanging together--sparks bursting from their slamming together. The Jedi's footing staggering slightly with each meeting of blade upon blade as the monster of shadow continued to savagely strike at him. He could swear that each strike felt heavier and more barbaric and bestial than the last causing him to nearly lose his grip upon his own blade not a but a few times. He had faced warriors before, but this abomination may have had posturings similar to them, but the way it fought was more severe--more brutal and it was unrelenting. And he could feel it getting stronger--faster as they waged battle.

Then it happened, the ungodly batting of the shadow's lightsaber against his knocking his blade from his grip. The lightsaber hilt flying from his hands--before he could even react to it, the knee of the creature fighting him buried itself into his gut. His eyes wide unable to breathe as he stumbled backward about to lose his footing. But from the equanimity of the clarity of the mind from his being a telekinetic wave burst from his being flinging the shadow and everything near him numerous meters away. The shadow crashed, tumbled, and slid upon the unforgiving cement courtyard floor. It seemed that the shadow creature had been halted for a second as it lay face down for a moment. With a mere gently extended right hand the hilt of the Jedi's lightsaber found its way back into his grip.

But only having taken his eyes off of the creature for that second, the scene had already altered. The beast reared up onto its knees letting out an unearthly sigh like the living dead exhaling its departing soul. Once more the Jedi's eyes went wide when a damned clawed hand reached out to him with the channeled dark energy in lightning form from its fingertips. But its strength was not like he had ever experienced from a Sith before. Even bracing himself with the Force and solid footing using the illuminating green blade of his lightsaber to block these great bolts of lightning crawling, arching and seeking him out--the force of which was causing him to slowly slide backward.

The beast charging right for him seeking to pounce upon its prey, reacting as swiftly as he could with the power of his mind he launched one of the barricades of the dead soldiery at the shadow. With brilliant glowing fiery edges the metal barricade split down the middle with the shadow breaking between its severed center continuing to charge right for the knight. Their blades clashed but the savage strength behind the blazing orange blade knocked the hilt loose from his grip--disarmingly this time with but a single blow the power behind the strike was so vile. Yet the strength of Jedi's mind was not undeterred focusing the power of it upon the creature's own hilt and tearing from its hand.

However, the shadow too remained undeterred by this--and with a clenched fist a blow was delivered upon the Jedi's left temple putting him in a daze as he staggered backward. A left knee to his ribs, then another right hook to his left temple and another and another and another and another. He did not know how many blows he suffered as he was barely able to stand as wobbled in his footing. It was not a fight or even a brawl, it was far too savage for that--it was more akin to being mauled by an ogre. It was but a trice later he felt his head within the iron grip of a pair of heavily calloused spidery, narrow fingers seeking to crush his skull as though it were a melon within a vice. Vision beginning to slip into darkness as he clenched tightly at the beast's wrists futilely trying to pry them away, but his strength bleeding away from him--his grip loosened before falling and dangling at his sides. But then, the shadow's grip let go, releasing him from its grip.

Flopping to the concrete floor of the courtyard at the shadow's feet, his eyes slowly regaining their focus to the visage of the creature as it stood over him--looking down at him. With a deep flanging tone of unearthly proportions neither man or woman could ever utter, but each word dripping the existence of the dark side within its voice, "Already preparing to sacrifice your life, master Jedi.", acknowledging what a Jedi's life truly is.

A soft smile came to the Jedi master's face, "By now... they must have escaped...", he replied referencing to the general and his entourage.

The beast brought up its hand-held communicator, confusion and concern as it inquired to whomever it made contact with--its voice still carrying its dark flanging ungodly tone, "Is it done?", the shadow creature watched with a measure of delight the Jedi's smile fade away and his contented gaze turn to that of horror in the moment immediately understanding the implication.

The jovial voice of a young man, clearly another Sith, "My Lady, you wound me! Have I ever let you down? Still would like me to make an example of him in front of his men?"

It was the beasts visage that was now smiling as it watched all the hope bleed away from the Jedi as it replied to the young Sith, "He cares for his soldiers... see to that he sees them taken care of first. Then send him off with them."

The nonchalance of another young man--or at least, young relative to itself, but this Sith chimed in--in response to the shadow creature's last statement, "Well, let's show his men an example to live by."

"See it done.", it uttered simply in reply before ending communications, still carrying that maladjusted flanging voice corrupted utterly by the darkness the shadow creature continues to channel through itself to fuel its power and unholy strength. Looking down at he Jedi master his eyes now wide with a burning intensity--a renewed fire and vigor burning within him. Smiling as it looked down at the sight before it, "Are you not grateful now that I spared you from needlessly sacrificing your life for them?", it taunted with that damned voice.

"Grateful?!", the Jedi seethed exclaiming the word through his clenched teeth in outrage.

"It was anticipated that you would be retreating to those shuttles... Really, other than dying by our hands--what other options did you have in saving the general?", it explained, "It was then a matter of anticipating what you would do at that point, master Jedi. It seems our anticipation of your reaction for what route to take to those shuttles were correct."

The mass of telekinetic energy that blasted into the shadow it clearly did anticipate however as it was flung a great amount of meters across the courtyard with a heavy crash and repeated tumble for several more meters. The shadow creature weakly trying to pick up its broken form, but before it even could the Jedi master with his raw telekinetic strength launched the shadow against one of the duracrete walls of the courtyard with enough force that it cracked under the creature's being the moment was slammed into it. The Jedi master violently telekinetically pulled the shadow creature off of its elevated position pressed against the wall only to slam it viciously once against the wall.

Dazed and feeling its severity and pain of its wounds the shadow trying to continue to use its dark rage to fuel its strength continuing to channel every last shred of darkness it can through its form serving as a conduit for such defiling energies. But with his renewed vigor it simply was not enough to resist against the Jedi's telekinetic strength as he continued to apply more force against the creature seeking to crush against the duracrete wall it was pressed against. The creature pushed the knight a bit too far, and the creature was now getting desperate given its situation. In all likelihood--if it cannot escape the Jedi's telekinetic grasp--the creature will die.

Yet the shadow continued to oppose his will, mustering every bit of strength and power it could until it suddenly belted out a roar of no earthly plane, existing only from the depths of the deepest caverns within the dark side of the Force as its sound echoed beyond the courtyard or the main fortress structure or even the fortress itself--but rather through the ethereal reaches of the Force. Exploding from the creature's being were immense bolts of dark energy that crawled throughout the entire space of the courtyard seeking out anything living--even surviving cells of the dead--anything with life. But most found the Jedi master himself, crawling all over his body leeching and even tearing away at his not just physical strength and being but his spirit and power within the Force--siphoning it all back to the shadow. His very existence being drained away--he could feel himself become more and more feeble within even fractions of a second.

With the last ounce of his strength he telekinetically blasted the creature once more stunning it enough momentarily to stops its siphoning of his strength and power within its veritable field of death. The creature falling back down to the courtyard floor, but catching itself--landing on its feet. It stood completely rejuvenated, while the Jedi found himself utterly bled in more ways than merely the literal. He was now completely spent, he knew and he knew the shadow before him knew it, too.

Extending a hand the Jedi pulled his lightsaber back to him, but his strength having been so torn and drained from him the lightsaber hilt skipped and slid across the cement floor for most of the back to him. While the shadow creature was by no means a talent with telekinesis, its abilities infantile compared to that of the Jedi master it was now facing; nevertheless its talent was enough to get a small object light its lightsaber hilt to fly back into its grasp.

Their blades ignited once again, the Jedi mustering his last remaining bits of strength as each time her brought up his blade the shadow relentlessly maliciously batted it away over and over again. Until the Jedi brought up his lightsaber to try defend against yet another hammering blow by the shadow, his eyes popped open from the shock of pain as the upward slash of the shadow's lightsaber severed the Jedi's arm off at the shoulder. Motioning to try and strike the creature with a desperate telekinetic push with his left hand was thwarted by an orange flash of light severing his hand off between the wrist and elbow. Before he even understood what was happening all of it executed through unnatural speeds , his right leg was abruptly severed at the thigh. Just as he was about to fall having lost all semblance of balance, the shadow creature pulling back its lightsaber as if to deliver the coup de grace, flipped the lightsaber into a reverse grip as its beam switched off and drove the pommel of its lightsaber hilt straight into the Jedi's sternum--the crack of the bone even echoed through the courtyard. Each of those last blows occurred with such speed it appeared as though it were done as if one fluid motion.

With a heavy crash and a flop to the courtyard floor, the Jedi master coughing and spitting up blood as he lay there on his back unconscious--life barely clinging to him. The shadow simply looked down at the broken man its feet for a moment, savoring the taste of his agony both physically and spiritually as the creature clipped its lightsaber onto its belt. Rather than killing him the shadow felt it best to leave a broken figure, so she could continue to enjoy the taste of his anguish and pain she had brought upon him.

Back out where the main forces have gathered within the fortress essentially 'cleaning up' whatever remained of the Republic within the great structure. Passing through where the general and his entourage were dealt with was the lanky, slim feminine figure of the shadow still bristling with the power of the dark side it had been channeling to such extremes few within the galaxy could probably even contemplate. But the creature had something in tow with it, it was dragging the scarcely still living Jedi master by his remaining limb. And it was by that limb the shadow flung him into one of the shuttles that the Jedi ironically had hoped to enable the general and his entourage to escape in.

The corrupted flanging deep resounding dark voice of the shadow then ordered, "Set the shuttle's navi-computer to go back to Republic space. Make certain the general's head is with him before sending him off.", and with that the beast--the shadow--the strange creature called Hervor, washed its--her hands of the situation to be in solitude for a time leaving the rest to Sith and officers to delegate and handle...

[Foxfire]

Honog stood there waiting till the shields fell. It was like a signal for the Jedi as for it attacked the noghri. The downward strike was parried with an ataru reverse strike. For the leg sweep he jump rolled over the sweep and then toad hopped over the second. With a quick hand Honog shielded the upward strike of the saber.

With the openness of the upward strike left a hole for Honog to unleash the force lighting he had charged. Ending the bolt with a force blast to shield bash the Jedi the noghri dropped his hand and summoned the second saber to his free hand. The hungry snap hiss broke the battle silence. Bringing the two ends together the pummels opened and locked in place. A three foot handle made for quick hand and foot work. A blur of spinning saber strikes from the Mastered Ataru skill became an avalanche as Honog enhanced them with juyo power strikes.

One spinning jump he gathered force into his left hand striking with his left. Another jump with a cartwheel to the right he pulled back on his left foot and brought forward another powerful force lighting. With another set of Ataru blurring strikes Honog did a double back flip to catch his breath for a few seconds.

The duel was going well but Honog had to take the advantage. With a wicked smile Honog sucked in a great amount of force energy and then unleashed it as a blast directed more to the ground between them both. A wall of dirt and dust engulfed them both and the noghri rushed deeper into the dust cloud. At the midpoint of the cloud he unlatched his sabers. Running on one breath he met up with the other Jedi in the cloud of dust and dirt. With enhanced speed and agility the noghri swipped with both sabers hoping to slice the being into, if not then he would fly past and out the cloud to try again.

[Dutch]

(OoC: Final Jessoin post for this thread, been a blast everyone <3)

One hour after the breach...

"And so the flower wilts after all."

Jessoin stood in the hall for several moments, head turned towards the room that held the disabled Zarene. The Zelosian took two cautious steps into the room, at first considering the cyborg before him. The wall had come down, and the Sith had overrun the fortress. From the shattered window Jess looked down into the courtyard below to see a line of Republic prisoners. The Sith firing squad dropped the entire line in a breath. Jessoin stepped next to Zarene now, and looked down at her. The small smile was barely perceptible, but it caused his to slide across his face.

"Good to see you smiling Z."

The Sith cooed before his right leg kicked into the unconscious woman's side.

***

He had left Zarene where she lay. Perhaps a squad of troops would find the fallen Sith, or perhaps a Jedi stumbled upon her to deliver their final mercy. Or perhaps she would be left behind to die of exposure. Just another skeleton among the field of fallen foes.

Jessoin knew what he had to do. Hervor's plan was perfectly placed after all. Once the Jedi were removed from the General's company it would be easy pickings. He approached the rendezvous point Nieraan had chosen, curious as to how he beat his brother to the spot. The Zelosian didn't have to wait long before Nieraan showed, Jess flashing him a smile with green stained teeth before dashing down the wall towards the hangar. It was a straight shot, and in no time at all the Sith had arrived. The setting sunlight cast deep shadows over the hangar, a single escape shuttle stood within. The general and his posse arrived seconds after the Sith, and Jessoin hissed a laugh as he strode forward to cut off the Republicans.

"Is it done?"

"My Lady, you wound me! Have I ever let you down? Still would like me to make an example of him in front of his men?"

The Sith said gleefully. The red beam of his lightsaber swung with the end of Jessoin's statement to point the tip towards the General himself. Jess began to stride forward, his murderous intent leaked out into the Force around him. This was it, the accumulation of the entire operation. A female officer within the group screamed, the shrill shriek actually exciting the Zelosian. He didn't realize that the suave and sleek Sith that he normally appeared as had been replaced.

His normally styled hair fell freely around his head, lanky and damp with sweat from the fighting. The glowing emerald eyes of his people had been replaced with deep, crimson irises set into wide eyes. Jessoin's face from his nose down was stained near black from his dried blood, and the robes around his form was peppered with blaster burns. The Sith's skin was so pale that it took on a soft green tint from the lack of blood. Jessoin was truly a Sith as the Republic saw him.

"He cares for his soldiers... see to that he sees them taken care of first. Then send him off with them."

"As you wish."

Jessoin growled before his free hand flung forward. A blast of purple lightning lanced out to spread across one of the guard's chest. He dropped to the ground, his armor clanking onto the polished marble floor. Two guards shouldered their rifles and began to fire. Jess snapped his lightsaber about to block the rounds, but not before deflecting a couple into the crowd of officers, dropping two of the entourage. Another blast of lightning disabled the attacking guards, sustained until their bodies twitched and shook next to each other in a macabre dance. With a spin Jessoin launched himself forward, a flick of his lightsaber decapitating the last guard before striding towards the group.

"For the Republic..."

The Sith mocked before lunging forward. The officers did not last, the red blade of Jessoin's lightsaber cleaved the group asunder in moments. As the General turned to run away, Jessoin tossed his hand outwards to flick a blast of lightning into the Republican. He laughed softly and spat a gob of green blood from his mouth to his side. Jess turned his blood red gaze to Nieraan and smirked.

"Sorry brother, seems I got carried away... would you like to finish this? I am eager to report our victory..."

[Rugs]

[This is a wrap. Zett/Fox, feel free to finish up whatever you're doing. But the main battle itself is finished. Been a while, but good work, folks]

Finding the general wans’t hard. Nieraan rendezvoused with Jess, who was eager as ever, and from there it was just a short saunter to the corridor. There, the two Sith arrived, with the smattering of commandos following Nieraan still in tow, and their the Republic made its last stand for Thila.

There was no escape for the general. Of that, Nieraan as certain. Even if the Sith hadn’t beat the Republic soldiers to the hangar, where would the fleeing man go? To the skies beyond the mountain fortress, where Sith fighters and anti-air guns would send his body crashing to ground again in flaming wreckage, like a meteor falling from heaven’s gate? To orbit, where the awaiting Sith fleet would blow his shuttle to pieces and scatter his ashes among the stars?

“There’s no running,” Nieraan said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. “It’s over.”

To their credit, the general and his wearied, tattered band of men and women that yet remained chose to fight, rather than surrender. Nieraan supposed that was an easy choice, when you knew your only options were death or something worse than death in the clutches of Sith interregationers.

The Battle of Thila’s last gasp erupted there, in that little hangar. The Republic guards tried to fight, tried to press a way past the two waiting Sith, to the shuttle that would at least be a way to keep fighting, if it would not guarantee their survival. But Jessoin, more bloodthirsty than Nieraan, halted the advance. Nieraan’s men took the occasional shot, picking off the few that may of threatened to sneak around Jess’ carnarge or to put the wounded and dying out of their misery.

Nieraan, for his part, watched. Oh, the Force was in him, as it ever way, but there was no need, not for dealing with the goons.

Instead his eyes were locked, beneath his mask’s concealment, on the general.

The man tried to run, but Jessoin brought him down. Nieraan began walking toward the fallen man, his soft footfalls breaking the deathly silence that hung over the hanger even as Jessoin offered the prize to him.

The general scrambled toward a pistol that’d fallen on the floor, abandoned, during the fracas. Nieraan calmly reached to his helmet and removed it, letting it hang loosely on the fingertips of his left hand. The right flexed for a moment, opening and closing. His face was calm. Placid. But the Force raged in him like a storm whose winds were desperate for escape.

The general found his gun and raised it. Almost as soon as the man’s arm was level, Nieraan made a motion, tearing the weapon, and hope, away. He snatched it deftly from the air. The lightning that wreathed across the metal surface fried circuits and melted some of the softer materials.

The pistol fell to the ground a smoldering, useless hunk of metal.

“A valiant try,” Nieraan said softly. The general had stopped trying to get away now and just stared him down, challenging his fate. “But, like the rest of this battle, not quite enough.”

Nieraan reached the man and kicked him. The Force exploded through his muscles, into the man and sent him crashing into the wall a few meteres distant. Metal crumpled on the impact as the old warrior slouched to the ground.

Nieraan picked his pace up a bit, and when he reached the general, grabbed him by the throat. He lifted the man and slammed his back against the wall, grinning demonically. “Don’t worry, though,” he said as fingers of red began to dance across his hand and onto the general’s body. The man gasped the way a person does when dunked into a pool of extremely cold water, as if his breath was being pulled from him.

It wasn’t a far cry from what was truly happening as Nieraan pulled through the Force, draining the man’s strength, his will, his very life away from him. The general’s skin began to gray, his skin and muscles going slack as he wilted in Nieraan’s grasp.

“We’ll take care of this little fortress for you.”

He let go. The body slumped to the floor. He turned to look at Jessoin, smirking wide as lighting danced between his fingertips. He felt invigorated. Alive. More so than even at the beginning of the battle.

“Hervor,” he called on the comm as he left the corpse to some of his soldiers to carry back, “the general’s dead. The fortress is ours.”

He paused, feeling a rush well from deep within him.

“Thila is ours.”