Corporate Secrets

[Neology]

The gunship skimmed above the canopy, onboard lights low, a dark shape against the fungal forest's dim bioluminescent glow. Novus held a holoprojector in her palm, watching their progress. Six triangles, representative of their refitted gunships, raced parallel to the craggy sprawl of cliff face. Czerka's compound loomed like a spider in the distant peripheral. Her thumb scrolled, bringing the facility into full zoom. Delicate landing pads and prefabricated walkways jutted out from the stone facade, marked out in bright yellow, while darker lines in amber flickered through likely configurations of rooms and tunnels. Guesses only, and thus likely useless. If she'd had more time to plan … Novus switched the holoprojector off and stowed it away in one of her flightsuit's many pockets with a sigh.

It would have taken months to ferret out Czerka's secrets. They'd had weeks. This assault was the best solution to an infuriating problem: the megacorp's staunch refusal to sell. True to form, the Sith would take what they needed, although plausible deniablity was the phrase of the hour. If it all went as planned no one would be able to prove Sith involvement, though surely it would be suspected. Luckily, Czerka was probably about as eager to turn out the contents of their labs for the planetary officials as her strike group was for getting caught.

Drackon Secrutiy Group, a PMC from the Mid Rim known to hire grey Jedi, would be getting all the credit for this instead, courtesy of several dozen uniforms and new paint on all the vehicles.

Novus's command headset chirped to life, a masculine voice confirming eyes on the target. The side panels on the troop compartment began to slide open, admitting a great deal of wind. She adjusted her collar, shoving her hair down the neck, then fit her helmet on over it.

“Go ahead. We'll be setting down behind you.” There, the first two would be arriving at the Czerka facility. She swapped channels to the one she shared only with the other three Sith. “We're one minute out. You know the plan. Get ready.”

Flashes of laser fire lit up the dark. The sound was muffled at first, then thunderous as their gunship joined the attack, hammering Czerka's mechanized defense turrets. Novus stood, bracing herself against a bulkhead, and unslung her rifle. It would do until they got inside, though she didn't like the thought of people shooting at her without a lightsaber in hand.

The reflective crosshair of the Czerka landing pad buoyed up out of the dark. An 'x' at this angle, spoke an incredulous line of thought, for buried treasure... She jumped, landing heavily on her feet, then raised the blaster to take a short burst at a security droid.

“There! We make for the loading bay doors.”

[Dutch]

It had instantly captured his curiosity when Darth Renata had given him this assignment. Rarely did Jessoin work with a team, and even rarer when on loan to another Darth. His vibrant green eyes moved down to Novus, who sat in the seat closest to where the Zelosian stood. Stance wide to compensate for the jumps and jolts of the soaring gunship, a single hand gripped one of the leather cables that hung from the rail above. Clad in a way to support their mercenary ploy, his usual flowing robes were not to be seen. A black Mandalorian style kama hung from his hips down to the floor, partially obscuring the glossy knee-length plastoid boots in the same black. The light cuirass and arm-guards Jessoin wore were of the same black and glossy plastoid, the DSG crest adorned over his left pectoral. A mat charcoal fiber mesh body glove clung to the Sith's lithe form, obviously made just for him. For protection and concealment alike, Jess' face was concealed from the eyes down by a  black breath mask.

Like many Jessoin wore a utility belt, various gadgets that would likely be useful tucked into the many pockets. At his right hip sat the holster to the Sith's favored machine pistol, Jess' other hand rested at the weapon's handle. Over and over he would idly unclasp the holster with a thumb, only for a moment later to snap it back together. Though the mask would obscure Jessoin's excited grin, his eyes would still glint with wicked excitement. He hadn't been given too much information on their task, but the Darth's made clear his sole role: Kill any who got in the way.

He heard the pilot's voice from the comm at his ear, the side panels opened soon after to expose them to the Neimoidian night. The dampness of the misty air filled his nostrils with an earthy scent, likely from the glowing fungal monstrosities below. The wind whipped Jessoin's dark hair wildly around, causing the Sith to squint. His hand moved from the blaster to wave lightly, a ripple of the Force growing to encase the nearby area in a protective bubble.

“We're one minute out. You know the plan. Get ready.”

At the Dark Lady's words, Jessoin's hand would pull his blaster from the holster. His gaze would turn to Zarene, eyebrows lifting once in amusement. He had been pleasantly surprised to find she had survived Thila. Jess was certain when he had found her broken within the fortress she'd have died from her injuries. Seemed the Force still needed the cyborg woman. The Sith's glare would then slide to their fourth, the Jedi that was rumored to be Novus' latest plaything. It would be interesting to see how far he had fallen since the Darth got her claws in. With a push to strengthen the invisible shield that emanated from Jessoin, he swiftly followed Novus to jump from the gunship. He could feel the sizzle of blaster energy that dissipated over his shield through the Force, barely scratching its threshold.

The laugh that echoed from him would sound warped and tinny through the breath mask, glowing green gaze darted over the path that lead from the landing platform to the bay doors. A group of Czerka guard droids clanked as they fanned out defensively, a smaller group of personnel backed up the mechanized infantry.The Sith took several pot shots towards the defenders, more to cause them to duck than anything.

“There! We make for the loading bay doors.”

No sooner had the Darth spoken a massive clank! sounded from within the facility. A series of clicks began to sound, and the bay door at the other end of the platform path slowly began to shut. Jessoin looked at Novus for a moment before winking her way. With a sudden burst the Sith would launch forwards, long legs propelling the lanky Zelosian forward. At the first droid he swiftly dipped under an awkward rifle butt, the machine pistol would chatter as crimson bolts lanced through another droid's face. A pair of Ataru styled flips would launch the Sith over the heads of two other droids, Jessoin would not stop still. With another flip he spun around a Rodian guard's vibroblade, the butt of Jess' pistol smacking into the alien's proboscis audibly. The Sith jumped, flipped and dodged around the remaining guards as fast as he could. Jessoin could feel the Force roar through his form, guided each movement and carried him through the enemy force.

With the large bay door looming above him, Jess pulled dark energies into his presence. His single free hand lanced out in a claw, tendrils of the Force latching onto the rim of the door to lock into. Jessoin would grunt as the door halted, if for the moment. Brow furrowed in effort his blaster would be slid into its holster, his now free hand waving to strengthen the barrier that now stood unseen between Jess and the welcome party. He hissed with effort and turned his head back to check on the rest of his party's progress.

"Want to spend the night outside?" Jessoin taunted his allies, cackling mockingly even through his efforts.

[Dire Wolf]

Violent bursts of wind pushed at a tall, armored figure as it stood at the edge of the deck. One mailed hand was clamped around the edge of the bulkhead while the other idly fiddled at the long hilt of a double bladed lightsaber at his hip. Had his face not been covered by a helmet that offered no obvious means of natural sight, the casual observer may have noticed a vacant expression on his face. Not only did his ‘gift’ of preternatural sight allowed him to ‘see’ through the solid helmet with little obstruction, but it also told him of the primitive life that prowled below the thick fungal canopy beneath them.

Life that hadn’t the slightest ideation of the power that slid just above their entire world. Life that existed in a constant state of barely ordered chaos. The very essence of nature was this odd sort of chaotic anarchy, and in that moment he had realized why the Jedi were so very foolish; they attempted to set order upon beings that were, by their very nature, chaotic. Ryn himself had fallen short of the code at seemingly every turn. Between a full blown relationship with another knight, the circumstances around his killing of Aeron, and constant ‘liaisons’ with a peacekeeper, Ryn was a terrible excuse for a Jedi. It was only fitting that he had given into the temptation of the Dark Side as well.

His mistress’ modulated voice cast him from the vacant reverie, “we're one minute out. You know the plan. Get ready.”

Ryn’s only responses were a barely visible nod and the casual turn of his head towards the massive, spidery complex that rapidly grew as they approached. What would have been in the view of every other person in the belly of the beast for minutes had only just become perceptible to the blind Jedi Knight; though he could see more than them. The hustle and bustle of the enemy atop the landing pads and walkways told him that they knew of the “merc’s” existence. What happened next confirmed what could already see.

Brilliant light illuminated the dark night sky between the complex and the few gunships that had been sent to invade it. Air sizzled with blaster cannon fire, the sky shrieked with concussion missles, and the blackness exploded with periodic bursts of flak. What damage the gunships couldn’t evade were absorbed by their powerful shield generators. Most of his compatriots braced themselves against the bulkheads and safety harnesses thanks to the ship’s constant evasive heaving; Ryn merely kept his single hand locked against the frame of the door. Despite this obvious instability the Knight appeared to be as immovable as a mountain.

The Dark Side was violently ripped from the space around the tall figure; each iota of the power was shoved into the taut leg muscles as they prepared to pounce. Only a moment passed before Ryn found his target, a large Feeorin with a big blaster, and launched himself off of the ship. The wind roared around his smooth, featureless helmet as he tucked his shoulder forward just before he hit his target.

Half a second later his full power slammed into the center of the Feeorin’s chest, and Ryn felt the satisfying crunch of bone against his thick durasteel pauldron. Both men fell to the ground but the massive blue one had served to cushion the Sith’s fall and remain there even as they slid on the landing pad. Ryn’s hand turned into a blur as he drew a massive combat knife and plunged it into the Feeroin’s skull with the same ease one would use to cut butter. Chunks of brain and skull were torn from the man’s head when the knife was ripped from it, and small spittles flew when Ryn cast the blade into the chest of an approaching combat droid. Guided by telekinesis, empowered by the Dark Side, the tip of the blade sunk through the creature’s chest and then through its processor.

It fell to the ground in a robotic heap.

Yet again, Novus’ voice growled in his comm unit, “There! We make for the loading bay doors.”

Ryn jerked his head up to see the Zelosian just barely holding the sliding doors open despite the rooted posture and strain on his face. To make matters worse, his sightless eyes could see more than a few enemies on the other side of that door. A million curses streamed through the man’s head as he sprang to his feet and rushed through the opening with all of the speed that his grasp on the Force could muster. He had barely passed the precipice of the door when the long hilt of his lightsaber had found his mailed fist. A heartbeat later twin spires of blue plasma erupted from the hilt with a menacing snap-hiss; blaster bolts sizzled through the air just as the blades ignited, but were deflected back into their senders. More men fell to the whirling defense, but the Czerka mercs didn't relent. What paltry few bolts escaped his furiously moving blades either splashed against the wall harmlessly or slammed into his armor.

[sparrow]

As the men advanced towards the loading door, a group of Czerka guards made their way up to one of the catwalks overlooking the walkway from the landing pad. Raising the scope of her rifle to her eye, Zarene took aim and fired. The head of a Czerka guard exploded in a fine red mist, his body toppling over the catwalk railing from where he had been attempting to flank the advancing Sith. The rest of his group attempted to duck and scatter, but not before a second shot took the neck of another one of their number. Zarene's hands moved mechanically and rhythmically. Aim, fire, reload. Spent shell casings lay scattered at her feet, each one corresponding to a bullet that had found it way to a vital of an enemy guard or battle droid.

Zarander had managed to make his way to the loading door, grunting with effort as he attempted to prevent it from closing, and yet still finding the time to make mocking remarks. "Fine, coming," Zarene muttered, firing a final shot before placing her rifle back on its rack in the gunship. It would be of little use in the much more enclosed spaces inside the facility. As she made her way down the walkway towards the loading door, her two blaster pistols leaped out of their holsters into her waiting hands.

Picking up speed, she leaped into the air as she passed the boundaries of the doorway, vaulting over Sundar and his lightsaber. The Force flowed through her and time seemed to slow as her body spun through the air. Lining up a shot with her right pistol, she fired before quickly swinging her head around to line up another shot with her left. The thumps of bodies hitting the ground accompanied her landing.

[Neology]

The droid collapsed, an indistinct clatter of failing machinery. Novus ducked into cover behind a cargo container, lining up her next shot and then the next after that, feeling rather then seeing her team's advance. The zelosian's glee was contagious, a wild contrast to Ryn's obedience, to Zarene's professionalism. She found herself grinning beneath her helmet's tinted visor as she vaulted over the cargo container.

Her headset came to life, a sudden channel swap cutting off the zelosion's comment. One of the gunship pilots, reporting local air resistance. Much sooner than expected. Novus swore, then followed up with succinct commands. Try to lose them in the forest. Wait for her to call. The pilot replied a strained affirmative.

Her apprentice cut a wide swathe through the Czerka forces, heavy boots tracking a mess of blood and brain matter across the ferrocrete. Novus followed a few steps behind, firing at figures in the megacorp's black-and-yellow. So far, so good. There had been doubts, aired when she brought this plan to the rest of the Sanctum, as to whether the fallen Jedi could be trusted to act against the Republic. She had disagreed; if Sundar failed, it would be at a later, quieter moment.

The thunder of heavy weapons fire drew closer. Zerene zipped by in her peripheral vision, exchanging her rifle for a pair of pistols. Long loping steps brought Novus to the blast doors a breath behind her. She ducked by Jessoin and into the room beyond, a gesture of her free hand dragging the man along with a telekinetic pull.

The garage was dimly lit, stacked with loaded palettes and divided into narrow aisles by huge lift trucks. She could smell machine oil and exhaust even through her helmet's filters. A security booth flanked the far doorway, entrance into the facility proper. A flick of her wrist engaged the safety on her rifle as she let it go slack, drawing one of her sabers. It ignited with a hiss, a blaze of ruby light.

“Extraction may be more interesting than we initially planned.” Novus muttered into her microphone before sprinting ahead, bolstering her natural agility with the Force. She hit the booth seconds later, a whirling strike that cut through the durable acrylic and into the man on the other side, sweeping down through his collarbone. The second hit was cleaner, coming in straight to cut a wedge out of the corner of the booth. She reached in after, relieving the dying man of his badge. With a glance back at her compatriots, she scanned the card, releasing the magnetic lock.

“Right. We go left and down.”

[Dutch]

Jessoin cursed in bewilderment as he felt an unseen force latch into his form to pull him into the facility. The hem of his kama had barely fluttered past the bay door as it slammed shut behind the Sith. He peered down to where a couple buckles had come unsnapped due to Novus’ telekinetic tug. But before he could readjust his armor a blaster bolt bounced off his plasteel chestpiece, causing the Zelosian’s brow to furrow over brilliantly green eyes. Jess began to pull the Force into himself, the dark energies around them easily pouring into him.

Novus’ Jedi apprentice busied himself cutting a swath through a group of Czerka personnel, while Zarene gunned down a second strike team. The Darth herself had sprung ahead, going for the throat of the hangar bay and ignoring the third and final team. The same who had tried to snipe Jessoin. With their rifles leveled they moved to spring around the massive shipping container to strike at Novus by her blind side.

“Right. We go left and down.”

“Oh no you don’t…” Hissed the Sith, his voice crackled through the breath mask. Arcs of violet electricity began to dance from his shoulders, a mantle of lightning as the Force howled within. The energies cascaded down to his free hand, rogue bolts cracking off his arm. A few concentrated bolts of lightning thundered from his spread hand, each slamming into their targets with enough force to force them against the shipping container. A mechanically muddled growl would emanate from him as Jess sustained the attack, another crack of thunder sounded as ropes of lightning seared the flesh of the squad.

When the acrid stench of charred flesh filled the bay, Jessoin let his hand fall and the lightning with it. The sharp smell of cooked ozone mingled with the sickly sweet of the now dead squad, their skin twisted and deformed now. He turned his gaze to the others, green irises temporarily replaced by the trademark gold of a darksider. The Sith languidly shrugged at them, his eyes sliding back to vibrant green. He strode to join them, his hands would deftly redo the buckles that were opened as he looked Novus up and down. With a quick tug in the Force of his own the zipper of the Darth’s flight suit would slide down to chest level, the Zelosian’s cool laughter crackling from his mask.

“We could play this game all night, my dear Darth…” Jessoin would start with a croon, his eyes flashing to cast a knowing look at her armored apprentice and Zarene right after.

“Now don’t get jealous Z, you can play with us too if you wanted…”

[Neology]

Lightning cascaded behind her, a sustained burst that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The violet glare polarized her helmet's visor, a strange moment of twilight as the Zelosian's barrage ended. She turned, tilting her head to one side in brief acknowledgment. The stench of Czerka's newest set of ex-employees was terrible even through her helmet's filters.

Her saber winked off with a short hiss, her foot holding the booth's door ajar. After the violent wash of Force lightning, a subtle bit of telekinesis was an odd twinge, pricking her senses like a note struck out of place. The result, as it dawned on her, set her lips into a pale line. She was silent a moment, calculating, then crossed the narrow isle in a few short steps. As she moved, she pocketed the keycard with a loose shrug that sent her sleeve drooping further. Several locks of silver-white hair escaped, flyaway and clingy with so much static in the air. Her grip on her saber shifted, twirling the cylinder around twice.

“A game? Hmm …” Novus stopped in front of the Zelosian, ankles almost crossed, hips cocked, somewhere between sultry and demure. She glanced up to meet his eyes through her visor, crooked smile on her lips. Her free hand rose and swept downward, indicating her state of dress. “Well, you messed it up. I think you should fix it, don't you?”

As the man's eyes tracked lower her arm came up, whipping the butt of her saber hilt into his face, felt it connect. Slowly, she lowered it, pausing to straighten her flight suit across her shoulders.

“Kindly don't do that again.” She pulled the zipper back up.

Novus moved back to the booth, swiped the keycard, and waited briefly for the others before taking point down the hall, boots sounding heavy to her ears against the white linoleum. Signs in Czerka black-and-yellow offered direction that the Sith ignored entirely. They wouldn't find what they needed in the employee cafeteria.

The 5KR3-MR prototype, or more commonly Screamer, was one of Czerka's newest toys, but as far as she knew, it had never made it to mass manufacture. The market for such a thing, of course, was incredibly slim – who in their right mind would want to drive rakghouls into a ravenous frenzy, after all? So they needed the original, which was supposedly locked up tight not so far from the lab they'd designed it in. (Eyes had been easy enough to place, even within Czerka, but hands were so much harder.) Left and down. Two hallways, a brief glance into an empty locker room.

R&D Lab 107-A. As good a place as any. Novus opened the door, then jumped back as a barrage of blasterfire answered the intrusion. Four battle droids lurched from their cradles. While she got only a glance, the woman was definitely sure those models were not of the company's standard commercial offerings.

“Lovely.”

[Dire Wolf]

(sorry about that folks. neology modded her post)

Only once the fallen Jedi Knight was sure that the room was clear did he allow the twin azure blades to crawl back into their hilt. While not all of their foes had been slain, not a one that still drew breath had the capability to fight back. There was no sense in taking the time to play throat cutter. A short grunt of derision was coughed out from his throat before he turned to see the lecher and his mistress in close proximity.

A single incredulous thought barely had time to cross his mind before Darth Novus struck the plant beast across the face. Beneath his visor the man's lips formed a smile that he wished the Zelosian could have seen as he passed with the straight backed gait one would expect from a warrior. Everything about the heavily armored man's walk screamed of his violent knowledge.

Ryn neither knew nor cared if Darth Novus pursued extracurricular indiscretions, or if a lecher pawed at her suit. He merely enjoyed seeing one such man being brought to heel. Especially if it was with the pommel of a lightsaber. Ryn's voice had a deep, gruff tone even from behind a voice modulator, "its alright, Zelosian, I'm sure that she's just playing hard to get. Try it again. Please."

Though his lightsaber was deactivated his hand held the long hilt with a loose grip; this allowed him to more easily twist and turn the hilt as the blades activated. When the door the lab was opened a flurry of blaster fire screamed through the doorway only to be narrowly dodged by the alabaster woman in front of him. His lightsaber turned into a blue wall as he twisted the hilt on it's axis during ignition, effectively blocking most of the initial burst.

One bolt managed to punch through his guard, but hit a rounded pauldron's surface only to deflect into the wall with a squeal. Ryn threw himself through the door without another moment's hesitation; his knowledge of shien not been so extensive his armor may have had to block more bolts. A few slipped by, but none managed to do any real damage.

His armor was as broad as it was thick, and wouldn't be pierced so easily.

[sparrow]

Zarene scowled at the Zelosian's comment, although with the faceplate of her armor still in place, it would go unnoticed by him. Not that it would change anything if he had.

As the door slid open, the heavily armored newcomer Sundar, lightsaber whirling, dashed forward to intercept the incoming hail of blaster fire. Zarene stood behind him as he attempted to block the attack from the four droids. She focused on the Force, gathering the energies to her. With a quick upwards flick of her palm, the closest droid flew upwards, slamming into the ceiling of the corridor with a metallic clang. She followed with a forward push with the heel of her hand, sending it down and back, colliding with the next droid in line.

[Dutch]

The zelosian grinned wickedly at the Darth's display, only shown through his eyes as she seemed to go along with the game. When his gaze dipped to take in her display did the strike come, lightning quick as the butt of Novus' saber cracked into his cheekbone. Jessoin's head would just barely cock from the blow, senses grounded as he felt a trickle fall from where his face throbbed. A single line of dark green blood would mark his pale skin, a reminder to everyone exactly who was running this show. Yet never did his eyes stop glinting playfully, still entertained despite being put in his place. Jess would nod at the Darth's request from him to stop, tilting his head slightly as he gestured to her.

"I see why Renata likes you, my Lady."

His voice crackled through the modulator, tone submissive yet mischievous. Without another word Jess stepped around Novus as she went to open the facility to them. He stood next to the man with a coy wink given at his words. Almost to say 'I just might'. However when the Jedi giant moved to take point, the zelosian happily let him lead. A shield of meat had its place after all. As they traversed the halls by Novus' will, Jessoin would hum a light nameless tune. It hissed from his breath mask, almost akin to that of hotel lift music. The song did not cease even as the Darth found the first area she wanted to search. It was clear she immediately regretted that as a barrage of screaming blaster fire caused her to take cover. Jess chuckled mechanically, his tune muddled by the laughter.

“Lovely.” The Darth breathed. "Yes you are..." Hissed Jessoin in response as the Jedi leaped forward with surprising speed to retaliate. Zarene swiftly followed behind, the sounds of sabers humming and droids clacking echoing violently in the hall. He would raise his eyebrows and gesture at the fray with a tilt of his head.

"Shall we join the fun?" He would ask, his eyes once again beginning to take on a golden hue as the Force twisted all around him. It would twist from his presence as a snake moves through grass, latching onto the many pockets of dark energies tucked within the lab. Not waiting for Novus' answer he too slid around the doorway. Immediately violet energies began to gather and cascade all around the Sith's upper body. His hair would feather even more from the intense static electricity in the air now. Hands spread outward palms up, more energy began to lick and crack off Jessoin in bolts. His eyes turned cruelly towards Zarene and the two droids laid out before her. Not thinking of her safety for even a moment he pushed with both hands spread wide as an EMP like burst of lightning roared forth. Jessoin did not notice during his assault the droid that had managed to dip around the Jedi. It would level all four arms at the zelosian, all four blasters it had aimed right for him.

[sparrow]

The hair on the back of her neck standing on edge was the only warning she received before the bolts of lightning struck her in the back. Searing pain coursed through her as the electricity surged through her body. She could feel a constricting pressure in her chest as the cybernetics in her body reacted to the shock. Falling to one knee, she frantically ripped off the faceplate of her armor with one hand as she clutched her chest in the other. She gasped for air as her vision blurred, a futile attempt as her lungs refused to pump.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pain slowly began to subside as her cybernetics began to come back online. She wiped away a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth as her breathing gradually began to return to a semblance of normality.

[Neology]

That incessant humming finally stopped, trailing off into laughter. Novus exhaled, a derisive snort distorted by her helmet's microphone. Her hands fell to her saber hilts, black gloves against ivory; insets a sickly hue in the amber half-light. Twin ruby blades ignited, flushing her visor scarlet.

Ryn charged passed, acknowledged by the slight tilt of her chin. Reckless. A large, threatening target. Exactly as planned, more or less; the man was a much better combatant then conversationalist. She made to follow, offhand blade dipping out to deflect a stray bolt.

The zelosian spoke (to her, by his gesture,) voice raised in a lilting tone, meaning lost beneath the din of combat. A question? Zarene advanced, the Force swirling in her wake. A battle droid moved to flank on Ryn's left, arms braced, barrels spinning up. Did no one see that?

Lightning arced from Jessoin's hands, constricting her pupils to dark pinpricks, her vision flashed with angry afterimages. A smell like something burning and Zarene gasping for breath. Dying? There was no time to check.

A foul word began on her lips, terminating in an angry hiss as she leaped forward, pulling on the Force for assistance. Her knees came up, then extended, launching her heavy boots into the man's shoulder and back. The momentum carried them both over and down. Novus recovered, shifting her footing around the zelosian before springing at the droid, both sabers raised like icepicks.

Her sabers took the battle droid in its central chassis, producing some truly alarming scrapes and whirs. The guns on either side of her fired, deafening but useless, unable to adjust for a target at such extreme close distance. Novus wrenched her blades down and out.

[Dire Wolf]

Blue light from the arcs of electricity reflected off of the flat, visorless greathelm while the twin blades of his saber staff whirled about in front of him. Unfortunately his stalwart albeit 'reckless' maneuver into the middle of the fray served little help as a distraction. That lightning lanced around the little cyborg, and possibly damaged many of her internal components. A fire lit within his chest that sent his blood into a boil at the wanton disregard for the position of a friendly soldier. A woman, at that.

Before his Mistress launched a kick of apparently staggering power at the Zelosian's back Ryn's body had begun to whirl around in a tight circle. His defense took a more focused effort rather than the lightsaber wall he'd created from before to allow for three hundred and sixty degree protection. Shortly after Darth novus issued the kick Ryn launched a free hand upward, and the air around Jessoin responded in kind. While mastry of the Force was not his goal, and his prowess of telekinesis was barely a notch above average, he had no doubt of his success.

There was more to the situation than mere recompense, though. Another stray blaster bolt screeched off of the man's chest plate and into a random direction. Surrounded. Osik. Ryn roared and hurled the lightsaber through the air like a javelin; it pierced both sides of the droid's thick shell and clattered to the floor harmlessly. After a trice the hulk of a machine fell onto its back with a resounding thud. A small smirk pulled half of the man's lips to the side as he observed his good work.

Half a second later, he rolled to the side to begin his force enhanced, unarmed onslaught.

[Dutch]

One moment Jessoin had casted a look of disdain at the disabled Zarene, golden iris’ filled with superiority as a light laugh bubbled from his chest. This was quickly replaced by a feedback mired gasp as he felt the force of feet against his shoulder and back. Hissing in anger the Sith rolled with the attack, letting his ataru training take over as a hand found the ground to push with the Force. Rolling in mid-air, he could feel the hulking Jedi exude energies. Energies turned towards Jess, weaker than what he assumed a Jedi could conjure. The darkside within the zelosian still roared within the Force like a howling wind, wrapped around his form before bursting outward to smack the large man’s attack away with an audible crack.

His heel hit the ground and with another spin he was grounded, hands held out for balance as Jess now saw Novus prone atop another wrecked droid. Her intentions at least were clear, the Darth had saved his life for whatever reason. He found this curious, the apprentice to one of her sister-rivals would have been a good asset to remove. Yet she hadn’t. She probably could have killed him with inaction quite easily too. But her Jedi pet’s clumsy attempt at controlling the Force was doomed from the start. Jessoin’s smile would be hidden as he held a finger up in his direction to wag it in mock chastising.

“Tsk tsk, should stick to your strengths Jedi.” Jess would croon mechanically as more lightning began to dance around his body. With an aggressive thrust of that finger a single, wire thin and impossibly bright arc of lightning shot out lance right through the head of the very droid the Jedi went to assault. The head exploded in a cloud of black smoke before the last of the wrecked droids fell to the ground with a clatter. He shrugged with one shoulder languidly as if to brush off whatever might have been said next from his comrades, turning a mocking eye to the still downed Zarene. He slowly tilted his head before laughing cooly.

“The sight of Z bending knee before me. I will treasure this memory for many a year…” He would berate, a mechanical hiss coming from his breath mask afterword to muddle the chuckle that followed.

[sparrow]

She could feel the dark side energies flooding into her. The anger and rage. She clenched her teeth as pain continued to surge through her body, the taste of blood still on her lips. Her blood. She was going to project that pain outwards, focus the rage into a weapon. She was going to make him hurt.

The smoking metal husk of the droid suddenly jerked upright, and hurdled through the air to slam the Zelosian against the wall of the corridor. Its broken steel limbs would continue to press down on his body with unyielding force, pinning him in place, slowly crushing with ever increasing weight.

A bit unsteadily, one hand leaning against the wall for support, she rose to her feet. "You can treasure it, Zarander," she whispered, as one of her pistols leaped from where it had fallen on the ground into her free hand. "You can treasure it for the rest of your life."

She leveled the pistol at his helmeted head. The armor might as well have been non-existent at this range. As the barrel of the pistol aligned with his forehead, her finger moved to press down on the trigger.

[Neology]

The Force twisted and writhed under the strain, pulled in four directions at once. Novus fought off a sense of vertigo, an acrid taste on her tongue, and extinguished her sabers. She stepped over the wreckage at her feet, following the flow of combat through a discordant haze.

The fallen Jedi struck out, misguided thoughts of chivalry echoing in his skull. The last battle droid expired noisily, an arc of lightning that traced back to Jessoin's hand. The cyborg's rage boiled up, scalding Novus's senses like a mouthful of clove oil. A hunk of metal flew across the room, pinning the zelosian. It was no use fighting Zarene's powerful telekinesis with her own. Instead, Novus focused her effort on the cyborg's weapon, fighting to hold the trigger in place.

“Don't, Zarene.” She growled through clenched teeth. “We're barely in the door. Don't do Czerka any favors.” Novus hesitated a moment, then let go, moving over to a terminal at the back of the room. Producing a slim black rectangle from her pocket as an intermediary, she plugged her datapad in. A program began to run automatically – a clever virus provided by Imperial Intelligence. It propagated quickly, hunting information on the 5KR3-MR prototype and downloading it directly onto the Sith's datapad. A moment later it beeped softly and Novus unplugged both devices.

“Ryn. Destroy this.” She gestured to the console, then stepped away, devices vanishing back into her pockets. A few long steps had her back in the hall, where she paused in front of the zelosian. When she spoke, her voice was pitched low, little more than a whisper.

“I have tolerated your presence as a favor to your Master, but how much are you really worth to her, I wonder?” Novus reached up, smudging a trickle of greenish blood with her gloved fingertips. She rubbed those fingers together, as if in contemplation. “More than Taris? More than the war? I wouldn't lay money on that.” Then, louder. “Endanger this mission again and I will happily let them kill you. My apprentice could use a lesson in indulgence.”

The lights flickered out, then came back up emergency red. Novus swore, dropping her hand back to her side.

”Warning: Breach detected. Suppression system engaged. All personnel return to stations.”

Shutters closed over the vents and magnetized bolts slammed shut in locks. A low hissing began, on the edge of hearing.

“Run.”

[Dutch]

Jessoin slid back from the wall as Novus made Zarene back off. A smug grin still plastered across his face, a hand would raise to brush dust and bits of busted droid from his torso and shoulders.

“You see, Z. Even when you think you finally have me… you can’t touch me…”

Despite his heart slamming in his chest at the certainty that Zarene was about to claim his life, the Sith crooned coolly as if the event didn’t phase him at all. He did not seek any retaliation, merely stood and let both air and the Force ebb and flow within his body. Jessoin for the moment would remain quiet as Novus did her espionage thing at a terminal. A brief thought to Tesa came at the sight of a clever woman handling the tech side of an operation. Though that didn’t last as the Darth quickly enacted her next step, and had her wrecking ball move to destroy any way of reversing her slicing attack.

The expected scolding came after, the arkanian hissing her displeasure and frustration just enough for him to hear. Jessoin didn’t fight as he finger dipped into the streak of blood caused from the Darth’s earlier strike, instead watching curiously as she lectured. Before this day is over, you’ll be thanking the Force Renata sent me… He followed one of his mistress’ lessons, and did not talk back nor take the bait when Novus’ threatened with her dull apprentice.

As the entire scene changed the Sith peered around, his green eyes the only thing not tainted by warning red. Jess could feel the spikes of panic in the Force, even if he himself felt no more threatened by a gas attack than any other with the breathing mask clasped around the lower half of his face. It could be so easy to do little in this situation, let the flooding gasses end some competition for him. Yet even he knew that this mission couldn’t be completed alone, and Jessoin had yet to fail a single mission to the Order.

“Be grateful I still stand…”

Crooned the zelosian before turning his gaze to one of the bolted doors. With a light laugh he threw both arms forward, hands spread as claws as dark tendrils of the Force whipped out to weave throughout the door. With a growl of effort and an almighty SCREEEEE the door slowly crumpled at the edges before being tugged from the frame. It fell to the polished floor loudly and the Sith turned his hands palm up as if to reveal a new speeder to the group.

“After you, Dark One.” Jessoin hissed as his gaze turned to Novus, clearly offering for her to take the lead.

[sparrow]

As the gas began hissing into the room, Zarene could feel the anxiousness of the others. Other than Zarander that was, who seemed confident in his rebreather's ability to protect him. Some gases killed from inhalation, but others could burn simply on contact, and Zarene had no intention of finding out what kind this was. She held out her arms, took a deep breath, felt the Force being channeled through her body. Whirling currents of wind swirled around them, forming a bubble of fresh air around the four Sith.

"Stop showboating Zarander, and cut the bloody door open," she hissed. Keeping the fresh air and poisonous gas separated would have been a difficult task even if she was at her best, and she was not at her best right now. The dull, throbbing pain that remained in her chest, from when Zarander's lightning had struck earlier, was evidence of that. The Force that flowed through her, it magnified her senses, allowing her to maintain and control the weaves. But it also magnified the pain. She placed a hand against the wall to steady herself.

The sound of lightsaber behind her, from Novus or Sundar she couldn't tell. The glowing blade was driven into the closed vent, boring a hole through the metal. Zarene understood. Her weaves shifted and reformed, blowing the gas through the hole in the vent and away from the room.

As the door finally opened, Zarene waited for Novus to take the lead.