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Kuhblam
I've got two guns, one for each of ya'.
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last online Sept 7, 2013 15:30:01 GMT -5
Guardian
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Jul 26, 2010 16:33:35 GMT -5
Post by Kuhblam on Jul 26, 2010 16:33:35 GMT -5
(OOC: Rugs says I'm your man, Jackal. I think you were heading for the Chancellor and her Jedi bodyguards judging from your post, so Ryke will confront you. Btw, sorry for short post. It's a filler for Jackal so he can make the first move.)
Before Master Kellick could answer, the trio were already heading off the stage, becoming one with the chaos now engulfing the stadium. Jumping off the side of the stage, he was about to help a bewildered and estranged Chancellor down from the dias before a security team member called out to him with a warning about an approaching figure. Igniting a burning yellow blade once more mere seconds after he had originally de-ignited it to the glee of the press being pushed back by security team members, Ryke spun from the Chancellor to view nearly a half-dozen security members be thrown across the stadium and rebound off it's numerous bleachers, blown away like nerfs in a heavy hurricane gale. Their weapons followed suit, with one member's blaster carbine landing promptly in Ryke's arms as he deftly caught it at the last moment.
What in the world?
His hooded gaze stared at the matte black rifle, pondering the anarchic moment that had taken place before the supposed elite security guards had been sent flying out of control. However, his eyes quickly switched to look upwards as four security members fired their weapons without hesitation at a silver-haired fellow leaping from the stands with almost superhuman strength. It wasn't until he landed and started charging swiftly in Ryke's general direction, however, that Ryke noticed the twin crimson red blades humming from light-saber hilts in either hand.
Sithspit!
His eyes widened as he focused in the slender figure and the raw dark side energy radiating from it's life-force. From this quick-moving figure, he could only ascertain that it was one of two possible enemies; either a Sith or a Dark Jedi. The Dark Jedi, however, would have no major motive for removing the Chancellor other than to start chaos for the sheer revelry of it. A Sith, on the other hand, would want to remove the Chancellor, to demoralize the Republic and install fear; no, it had to be a Sith.
Moving into an Ataru stance and passing the security guards, it came to his attention later than it should have that this man was obviously going for the Chancellor, and that he would most likely not be the only CQC assassin.
"Protect the Chancellor!"
Those were the only words that came out of Ryke's mouth before he sent a force blast hurtling towards the Dark Jedi in a quick attempt to slow his momentum by dodging and thus leave him slightly more vulnerable to the blaster fire of the security team. Although they were well-trained, the security guards would be unable to hit their target unless he lost at least a little bit of speed. His hand surging with raw energy, he then sent a second successive blast hurtling towards a possible path the assassin would take to dodge the initial one.
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Apillis
Poonikins
1,153 posts
108 likes
Cotton candy, sweet and low, let me see that tootsie roll!
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last online May 10, 2023 15:20:37 GMT -5
Master
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Jul 26, 2010 17:20:00 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Jul 26, 2010 17:20:00 GMT -5
With the chaos beginning to erupt within the grand stadium, she could feel it was time for her to mobilize. Make her presence known. Show her visage to the Jedi, show them an iota of what they are to face; and do so before the galaxy itself. For all her life she was one of those in the shadows, one of the creatures in the darkness that only those who have dared venture in the dark deep enough could find and witness, much like the monsters dwelling deep within the abyss. On a rare occassion one will surface to exclaim how terrible the dark truly is.
A guarded corridor by armed Republic security held their position, regardless of what was occurring within the stadium on the dais behind them, and what was to approach them from the front. The air seemed to become heavier, as if something weighed them down a little more, not so much on the physical but more on the primal instinctual level -- as if knowing something -- a bigger predator than they is lurking within the shadows... and most definitely one was... The lights down the corridor all snapped and popped shutting them all out leaving the five me in darkness. They were all quick to turn the flashlights at the end of the blaster rifles to see in the dark, but the shadows themselves seemed to darken the meager amount of light they were able to create.
All each one saw pass by them before feeling the life being rung out of them was the black silhouette of a woman casually walking past them. It was as if something held their lungs within its very grip, crushing them until all oxygen -- all life was squeezed out of them. One by one they fell as she passed them by, except for the last standing by the doorway leading to the dias itself. It was like the shadows within the corridor themselves darkened around her. The man's eyes were wide in dismay and fear, quickly he begun firing at her, though the swift reflexes of a Sith of her standing were easily a match for a mere Republic uniform with a blaster. With the quick draw of her vibroblade she batted away the couple blasts he managed to fire at her, the bolts themselves dispersing into into tiny fragments by the blade striking them. In the next instant, before he could even blink the blade impaled through his chest while the dark woman still stood several meters away from him. The blade ripped out of his body as he fell lifeless to ground with a clumsily flop, and the blood vibroblade back in her grip.
It was in that moment, the shoot was fired at the Chancellor to which the dark woman walked up a few stairs, and with little more than a thought the sealed doorway to the dais was ripped open. It was the sort of timing one did not stare at a watch or count down, it is the sort of timing that is much deeper than that, something felt - not read but simply known. When all one does is see and perceive through the Force, it is not surprising when ones sense of timing becomes reliant upon it as well.
The second she stepped beyond the doorway, a Republic security member stood at either side of her, before either could react - Acalya's blade ran through his side and exiting out of the top of his opposite shoulder. Just as the other turned his blaster to the dark woman he was met with a Force Push that sent him crashin and tumbling over and over again for numerous meters -- it was as if a speeder at high-speeds slammed into turning a man into a rag flailing flopping as he skipped across the floor only stopping when his twisted form slammed into a wall. In that moment Acalya violently ripped her blade out of the man. There was little better than the visceral feel of cutting into anothers flesh, and feeling their warm blood trickle down the length of a blade upon your hands. A small smile formed on her face reveling in the tiny rush of it.
Interestingly after now having killed seven security guards, her inconsistent mind paused, wondering what to do next. Attack the Jedi? Attack the Chancellor? Stir up a bit more chaos amongst the masses? Whether the Chancellor lives or dies, it did not matter in her mind. The results will nevertheless turn out the same. Here, in this moment, through the Sith's assassination attempt, the weakness of the Republic and fallibility of the Jedi has been exclaimed to the galaxy as it has in days past. It is if nothing else a refresher of history. The death of a Chancellor is nothing more than a bonus, for even if she lives -- she has to suffer the fall out of trying to strengthen a weakened republic, while all those around her lose their faith in her ability to lead and regain the strength of the Republic. That sort of agony within a person Acalya could savor for a lifetime. It is one thing to lose faith in yourself, but it is quite another when everyone else around you does.
Casually Acalya pulled back the hood and veil hiding her visage, exposing her sunken blood red eyes, encircled by dark rings with small creases and cracks spreading from the corners of her eyes with a corpse-like pallor. Those dark grey lips curling into a sinister grin, for they needed to see, to see the face of what they are up against. A face of the dark side. With a small inclination of her head a few strands of her raven black hair fell in front her face, a couple of which being the natural violet highlighted strands inherited from her meager amount of Theelin blood. With a placid, fluid stroke she curled those strands behin her ear with the tips of her fingers.
In an abrupt, swift movement she flipped her blade to run along her forearm as she nonchalantly begun to walk foward further out onto the dais while all else broke out in either insanity or battle... or both... If nothing else, it was a curiosity to her for what the Force will bring in these moments...
"Yes, yes... protect the Chancellor...", she muttered naturally hearing the exclamation.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
1,617 posts
86 likes
Rocking from the Great White North
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last online Apr 20, 2022 19:46:47 GMT -5
Master
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Jul 26, 2010 17:55:29 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Jul 26, 2010 17:55:29 GMT -5
Over the years of his training as a Jedi and more especially in the recent years of his apprenticeship, Jazen had been hit with many forms of attack. He'd been shot at, kicked, blown through the air by an explosion, almost flung off a bridge and almost dragged into a river trying to haul his master in. He'd been knocked, drugged, stunned, weary, exhausted. He'd also been beaten, stabbed, slashed, shocked, whipped and forced to endure one of the most brutal mental attacks he'd ever seen.
But he'd never been knocked out of the air....or in this case, yanked out of the air. His high flying agility had been what had saved him on more than one occasion, a strength he could count on when the going got hectic. Now, for the first time, Jazen saw just how easily it could become a weakness if used incorrectly. Like a bird in flight who suddenly hit a wall, Jazen snapped back in mid air, shock registering across his face.
Shock quickly turned to realization of his situation and his head tilted enough to show him where his intending landing zone was. Below, the crowd had become a raging stampede of feet and fear, their collected panic creating a sound like thunder as they scattered in every which direction in an mad attempt to flee what was now unfolding. If he landed amongst that not on his feet, he doubted he would be getting back up again. People in a panic had a tendency to forgot everything around them but where they could escape. Even if that meant they ground they were beating with their feet to escape were in fact the bodies of others who had fallen trying to do the same. Jazen had no doubt that should fall into that on his back or stomach, the chaos would be the last thing he remembered.
It was, at this moment, that his training in Ataru saved him. True, it may have gotten him into this situation, but it could just as easily pull him from the steps of death's door. The sky was his playground and although he had yet to master the form, he knew enough to create a solution to this problem. Seeing that his body was falling to the right, Jazen pushed with the Force that way, tilting his body towards the left. At the second after the first, Jazen sent out a similar, weaker push from his left. This put his feet directly in proportion to the ground. Tensing the Force into his legs to brace himself, Jazen switched off his saber and drew the remaining Force around him to act as a repulse for when he landed.
A shock wave of minor pain shot up Jazen's legs as he landed, leting his knees and the Force reduce the impact so that he didn't stumble over in response to his legs jolt. People and small pieces of the ground where he landed shot out from around him from the Force slam he had created to reduce the impact and for a second, he had no one rushing towards him. That didn't last long. Someone was quick to almost bowl him over, which is when he pushed out in all directions gently to deter anything or anyone who came close enough at that moment. Quickly he snapped to his full standing, using a firm stance and the Force to slide off anyone who slammed into him in their rush to escape. And there were a lot of people trying to escape.
Keeping some part of him attentive enough to avoid being taken down, Jazen switched to reading the situation around him. It had truly become chaos. While the mass majority of the stadium's crowd was attempting to flee, swarming the exits to the point that they were packed wall to wall, others were actually trying to charge the stage. Jazen's purple eyes saw the distinct uniform of the stadium security, both the planet's provided force along with the troops that had been brought along with the Chancellor. Reporters, the ones that cared more to cement their legacy than their own lives, rushed forward to try and get this on holovid, putting themselves in harms way. Some of them were even stalling the police force from doing their job right just by refusing to get out of the way.
Reaching out with the Force, Jazen felt the other Jedi springing into action, along with the appearance of several dark spots in the Force. Those were obviously their attackers; but why was there so few? Had the shot that had been fired been intended to be the kill shot, so sure that the sniper would get the Chancellor that they had sent only a small force to oversee it? No...it was more likely that the few were either highly trained.....or extremely powerful. If the shot had hit, they would have molded into nothing. Now, forced into the open, they were quickly taking the offensive. Other points of interest suddenly flared to life around the stadium, both on the ground around the dias and within the crowd itself. Those points radiated not calm nor panic; but a bloody thirst for violence.
Jazen snapped his head to the nearest source of one of these points, spying the man which it was coming from. The man had thrown clear a large cloak that had been concealing most of his body....including the black armor that covered him from neck to toe. And in an instant, a black helmet all but hide the human side of the man, leaving only a being of solid black emitting death and destruction. A rifle snapped up from the bag he had been carrying and for a brief moment, Jazen's mind mulled this over. How had the man gotten both the weapon and the armor past security? Everyone had been screened on the way in. Did this mean that there were traitors on the Sith side working for the security core?
All questions left his mind as he saw the man raise his rifle and begin firing off into the masses below. This caused them to scatter in terror...right into a group of approaching guards. Meeting a wall of frightened and panicking crowd goers stalled the troops, preventing them from moving ahead freely. In that instant, Jazen's mind knew what to do. Using the scattering people as a cover, he closed the distance with the man, carefully using the Force to push them out of his way. When he was within range, he lunged. His saber shot to life in his hands and before the man had a chance to react, his rifle lay in two smoking pieces.
As the man turned to grab for his pistol, Jazen spun towards him, grabbing the discarded cloak as he did. Remembering the trick he'd preformed while training with Master Locke, Jazen wound the cloak as tightly was possible with the Force, then guided it to encircle the mans' head. Blinded, the man fired randomly, which Jazen deflected effortlessly with his saber. Finally, the man realized what was going on and went for a combat knife to free himself. He didn't get the chance. Before his hand could even reach the hilt, Jazen had short hopped over him, landing firmly a flight down from him. Using all the strength he could muster, Jazen pulled on the robe, yanking the man backwards towards him. Unable to balance, the man stumbled backwards over the seats, where his body was suddenly slammed headfirst into the solid ground beneath him. His body slumped seconds after and Jazen could feel him slip into an unconscious state.
Sighing, Jazen turned his attention back to the scene around him, where similar events were occurring. Blaster fire erupted all around the stadium, members of both sides engaging each other in firefights. Lightsabers had sprung to life, the Chancellor was surrounded by her personal guard and a small unit of enemy soldiers was moving on the stage. Sighing, Jazen's eyes turned towards where he felt his Master in the Force and sent him a very brief message as best as he could.
I'll be there as soon as I can Master. I have a little bit of clean up to do first."[/i]
And with that, Jazen shot off towards the ground below, already locking in his next foe as he descended upon him.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Jul 26, 2010 21:18:34 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jul 26, 2010 21:18:34 GMT -5
Respect.
The woman had gained it in Adara's eyes. Few people in the galaxy had the gall to goad a Dark Jedi into fighting. Especially if the person in question had an unbelievable power at the command of their fingertips. Chancellor Naaden's eyes did just that. It was, perhaps, the truest form of bravery. One could fake a verbal goad, but it was quite a feat to fake such an obstinate stare.
Her own eyes glared daggers at the woman, but it was not a glare of anger or hatred. Only a petty being would have the fires of either kindle within their heart after such an act. Adara, for all of her acts of barbarism and evil, was something of a noble creature -- not unlike an eagle. The only difference between her and it, barring the obvious, was that people didn't notice that the eagle preyed on lesser beings. Yet it would be such an atrocity for her to slay one of her lessers.
"Woman," she slunk a message between their minds, "when you die, be it here or later on, t'will be by my hands." The woman had challenged her, and Adara had accepted that it. Naaden may as well have glared a challenge into the eyes of a cougar (no pun intended.). Just as she prepared to lunge towards the chancellor, propelling her staff forward only to reveal the lightsaber hidden in the tip at the very last second, something crashed into her back.
Anger was roused from a deep slumber within her, and roared as it willed her to see the face of the creature that it would consume. The being that tackled her to the ground rolled them off the dais, twisting so she would hit the ground and act as something of a shock absorber for him. He continued to roll, and then let go and got up. He allowed her to do the same. Her staff flew to her waiting hand as she glared at him, this time it bore the countenance of an angry dragon that had been poked with a sword.
"Then perhaps I can provide a suitable amount of entertainment for you, my Lady.
"After all the Chancellor is old, her bones brittle. Her dancing days are over, I should think. But me? I'm young, spry. And I'm in the mood for a bit of dancing."
"Something tells me, Jedi, that you have never been able to entertain a lady for any great length of time." The woman spoke with in something of a sophisticated tone, certainly one that was borne of the core worlds' elite society. Adara's staff whirled around in elegant arcs, only to stop in the crook of her armpit. Her hand gripped against the phrik firm but not hard, and about a quarter of the way up the staff. She bladed her body away from the man, so that any push sent against her wouldn't throw her away.
After but a few moments, the hand that gripped the staff brought the bottom quarter forward while the free one pushed against the part that formerly touched her armpit. The orange colored staff roared through the air, audibly displacing the air as it twirled about above her head at an odd angle. A cool wind rushed into her muscles, augmenting them to a level that only the a superhuman could hope to attain, as she leaped up in the air and drove her arm forwards to complete the attack.
The result was a brutal attack that was aimed at the base of his neck. If it hit, there was no question that it would wreak havoc with his body. At the very least it would chip his collarbone, and at the most it would snap his neck like a twig. The shear power of this attack meant that it was better to dodge than to block, as he risked having his own saber be driven into himself by the herculean forces at work.
As she fell, the woman slowed the momentum of the staff and stopped it with her free hand, then brought it back towards him in an attempt to sweep his legs out from under him. Should that work Adara would unleash the electric blue star hidden within the hunk of steel and phrik, and attempt to drive it into his chest.
This Jedi would die for his transgression, and the chancellor would die for her obstinance.
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sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
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last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
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Jul 26, 2010 22:26:14 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Jul 26, 2010 22:26:14 GMT -5
She... missed. Disappointing, but not entirely unexpected. Zarene pulled back the bolt to load in another bullet, but she never had a chance to take the shot as guards began appearing at the windows to either side, blasters ready to shoot. Getting out would be much faster than getting in though. Gravity was on her side.
She straightened her legs, letting them slip off of the fibercord. The wind rushed past her face.
Freefall.
She could spy the glow of lightsabers appearing from the stadium in the distance. No... too early! She should've known that someone like Ianie would've triggered the attack prematurely. What use is a distraction if you never give your opponent time to get distracted?
The ground was getting closer and closer. She could slow her descent with the Force, but not enough by herself to keep her legs from shattering when they hit the ground. Flipping over in the air, so that her body was now right side up again, she pulled on the cord coming from her pack, the parachute billowing out behind her. Blaster bolts streaked through the air around her, burning holes in the fabric. Such an obvious target, it would only be a matter of time before they shot her down, but at the moment most of the guards were still in a state of shock, never having anticipated that the attack would come in such a direction. It wouldn't last long, but fortunately, she only needed it for a few seconds. She took a piece of cloth for her pouch and tied it around her face. A combat knife from her belt was used to cut the parachute cords.
Even with the Force slowing her fall, she hit the surface fast, rolled several times on the ground before coming to a stop. Pushing herself up, she found that she was surrounded by a detachment of guards armed with blaster rifles. A man who appeared to be the commanding officer raised his vibrosword, ordering, "Men! Arrest the assassin!"
Her blaster leaped from its holster into her waiting hand. Bang. One shot sent the officer's sword flying through the air in two pieces. The rest of their men raised their weapons and fired, but Zarene was no longer there. A single Force-enhanced jump took her over their heads, her second blaster flew into her other hand. Two more shots, and two guards fell, the bolts piercing clean through their light armor. Ah, good reliable SoroSuub tech blasters, faster than any lightsaber when in the right hands.
"Smokescreen. Now." There were a small number of Sith troops situated in the stadium, numbering only in the dozens in a crowd of thousands, but she had kept a few back for herself. They knew these orders were coming and they were prepared. A series of flashes, and a moment later street filled with smoke, obscuring everything.
Another set of quick orders was issued through her comlink. "Rendezvous point. Bring my speederbike." Through the haze, she could hear the yelling of the Republic guards as their men fanned out to try to locate where she had went. In the time it would take for them to regain their bearings, she'd be gone.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
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last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
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Jul 27, 2010 14:52:56 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 27, 2010 14:52:56 GMT -5
If it had been the woman's intent to insult Locke with her snarky little comment, she'd failed. No, rather than wound his pride, she'd done little more tickle his funny bone, as it were. Well, well, she's got a tongue on her, does she? A wry smirk grew on his face as he spun his orange blade 'round in his hand once before settling into a defensive stance that left him facing her sideways, with his saber in his left hand held out diagonally across his front and his right hand out back and down to the side, for balance. Should be fun.
The Force flowed into him now, preparing him for the fight that was to come. His breathing slowed, became more relaxed, and his muscles relaxed as he prepared for movement, rather than to exert raw power.
With the Forcce came whispers of danger, along with the danger that radiated from the woman before him. Locke didn't need to look around to know that she was not the only attacker; there was another one that landed on the stage shortly after he'd tackled Staff Lady off, though he could feel the presence of one of his fellow Knights moving to intercept.
And there was something more coming. Something strong. Something dark. He didn't really want to know what it was. Kellick could handle that. The rest was chaos, pure and unrelenting. Panic pounded at the walls of his mind, but he ignored it. The Force was his cradle, and he the eye of the proverbial storm, unmoved and unconcerned with the chaos that surrounded him. Oh, he wanted to help the others; he wanted to find Jazen, who was occupied elsewhere. But for now, his focus had to remain on the woman that stood before him, tall and proud, holding her staff with an easy familiarity that spoke of nothing but danger.
Locke's facial expression never changed. It was still calm, with a slight smirk that gave an undercurrent of amused self-assurance. But there was a shift in his stormy grey eyes; they flashed with determination, with the will to defend the Chancellor and the people of the Republic as best he could, no matter the cost to himself. It was his duty, after all.
Well, let's get to it, then.
The woman shifted her staff.
Locke took a half step back.
Everything after that happened in a blur.
The staff whipped out at him, arcing in toward his neck. It was a blow that, if it connected, would probably ruin him. He couldn't let that happen. Getting stomped in one move--and on Galaxy-wide television, no less--would just be embarrassing. Locke opted not to try to block the blow, and instead dropped the point of his saber down, so that it would stay clear of the staff. As the staff closed in, he ducked, and at the same time, stepped to the side.
He came around so that he was on the woman's right, preparing to launch it with a strike of his own--a slash at her right shoulder--but she attacked again before he could get into it properly.
Her staff slammed into the bottom of his legs, knocking him to the ground. He grunted from the pain of the blow, but when he looked up, he saw her preparing to end of her weapon into his chest. The end of the weapon that now had a beam of plasma sprouting from it.
Well that couldn't happen.
Locke acted almost on instinct, and threw both hands up in front of him, reaching out to grab her with the Force and pick her up off of the ground and move her off to the side a bit, so that she would be safely beyond the reach of her staff. Of course, provided that worked, he wouldn't throw her. Not yet. For the time being, he would just hold her there, in the air, and flash his most insolent grin at her.
"Oh, how cute, she's got a tongue, though I'd hate to know what she files it on. Unfortunately for you, m'dear, I rather doubt you'd be able to... ah, shall we say endure the type of entertainment I plan to provide for you." He snorted and shook his head. "A pity, I know."
He'd shrug, and then a blast of the Force would launch out from his hand, with the hopes of sending her skyward and away from the stage, and away from Naaden. Then Locke pulled his knees up toward his chest and jumped up to his feet in one smooth motion, twirling his blade around once before jogging after her to continue their battle.
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Asir had seen many things in the time he'd covered the news. Riots and robberies. Murders and muggings. Fires, crashes, floods... You name it, he'd probably seen it.
But he could not say that he had seen, or had ever hoped to see what was going on inside this stadium.
It was an assassination attempt, of course; any idiot with eyes could see that much. But in the moments since, the crowd had gone crazy, fighting had exploded in the middle of the field, and hidden fighters had opened fire on innocent people as they tried to get away. And all of it was being broadcast live, to the entire Galaxy.
There were a few moments where he wondered, just as anyone else in the stadium must have wondered, if this day, this day that had been meant to strengthen the Republic, would be the one that broke its back.
That wasn't his place though. Not now. For the moment, one of the biggest stories of the decade was going on, and it had been dumped right into his lap.
"Let's go, Torsh," he yelled, clambering up into one of the little hoverpods that were sitting on the sidelines for the press. The pods were large enough to hold two, with a rail around the sides to keep them from falling out. Torsh stood at the back, sweeping his camera over the chaos that was unfolding down below them.
"Ladies and gents," Asir started as started working the control panel, moving the little pod off of the ground, "you've all just seen the same thing that we here in the stadium have. Moments ago, there was an assassination attempt on Supreme Chancellor Naaden. But she's still alive, and surrounded by some of the finest protectors the Republic has to offer." If it weren't for the adrenaline that was pounding through his veins, he might have noticed that his voice was shaking.
"There's still hope, though. There's always hope."
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Apillis
Poonikins
1,153 posts
108 likes
Cotton candy, sweet and low, let me see that tootsie roll!
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last online May 10, 2023 15:20:37 GMT -5
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Jul 29, 2010 17:38:12 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Jul 29, 2010 17:38:12 GMT -5
Those blood red eyes washing over the unfolding scene as she saw it all through the multitude of shades and translucence of the Force itself. What was exclaimed most of all amongst the fleeing masses was fear, panic, and desperation. Acalya only stood there for a moment with a smile drinking it in, savoring every last drop of fear the people all shared. It was one marvelous buffet they were cooking up, but the dark woman wanted more -- not just a buffet but a banquet.
Slowly those blood red eyes turned to the Chancellor, staring at her beyond the mere flesh, blood, and bone that composed her being in the material world, but looking upon her with all of that stripped away -- seeing her as she is within the Force, as she truly is laid bare. In a certain way, one could view seeing others in such a way as almost a violation to which the Miraluka have perfected it. For it gives one no sense of privacy to the shades of ones own inner-being. A small smile... almost gentle in its way formed upon Acalya's visage as she took a couple steps toward Naaden paying zero mind to her security detail, while the Jedi nearest to the Chancellor seemed to utterly preoccupied with their own measure of difficulties.
A pair of Republic security speeders suddenly flew at great speeds over the stadium in the sky as they flew shallow. Easily distracted by them for she truly did not care whether or not the Chancellor lived or died. But, her gaze turned back to Naaden and smiled warmly at her before looking back to the sky as the speeders begun to circle back around to the stadium.
Casually Acalya flicked the blood off of her vibroblade and sheathed it. With that same hand she reached toward the sky with both hands in the direction of both of the speeders. With an abrupt, violent closing of her hands pulling them both across her chest to her shoulders the pair of speeders were suddenly as if literally ripped right out of the sky crashing down at two of the main exits/entrances that the majority of the masses fled to. With the fiery blaze of the explosions and shards and chunks of metal ripping through crowds, one can only estimate how many were either killed or severely harmed as a result.
The screams... oh so many screams... of pain... of agony... of fear... Acalya only smiled as so many became trapped by their fear. Trampling over one another, harming their fellow Man, many just to crawl over the other to escape the chaos that caused them such terrible fear. The dark woman could drink this in for hours, days... perhaps even decades. If only such moments lasted as long.
Just as she was about to turn to Naaden once again. A hoverpod flying over-head caught her attention. Her lips pursed at this, and with a swift graceful sweep of her hand she sent the little craft down to the ground skipping like a flat stone across a smooth lake, and with the strength generated fromt he applied force in which Acalya brought the machine down it cut right through the crowds as it tumbled and crashed. The hoverpod in wreckage, whether or not its occupants and those of the crowd it plowed over still yet lived was truly amongst the least of Acalya's concerns.
For what Acalya perceived next lead her to let out a small sigh as she drew her shoto, igniting its bright red beam as she flipped it into a reverse grip as she stood awaiting for what is to come...
((Edit: Couple typos fixed))
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Regnier
I get paid to kill bodies, and I enjoy my job. Any questions?
802 posts
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Maimkillburn?
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last online Jan 19, 2012 4:30:24 GMT -5
Guardian
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Jul 30, 2010 4:59:45 GMT -5
Post by Regnier on Jul 30, 2010 4:59:45 GMT -5
So much...excitement. All this bother over one person, such a waste of resources. Oh, there was little doubt in Kellick's mind that it was a waste, plain as day; the Chancellor would not fall tonight. All of this, it would be for nothing, as long as she drew breath, no harm would befall Naaden, and, well, maybe there was a tinge of ego in there somewhere, but Kellick Vakkor had no intention of falling tonight either. That was one of the pluses to being her; sure, for the other Jedi on the field, they could take comfort in having a heavy hitter backing them up. She could take comfort in being the heavy hitter, and with plenty of backup, well...again, maybe there was a little ego in there, but she really wasn't particularly worried.
Then again, she'd already died, twice, in her lifetime, and knew full well that even were the Chancellor to die and the Republic fall tomorrow, the Force would again change the face of the Galaxy later, as it always did. So...perhaps she was just hard to excite. Either way, she was remarkably unperturbed by the events going on around her, for the most part not even really reacting, save for slightly turning to better view something, or slightly arching a brow in subtle response.
The first apparent attacker, the blue-eyed woman with the staff, barely elicited any sort of response. Kellick turned slightly and smiled thinly, before returning her attention to the crowd and closing her eyes. The woman was not her concern, but rather...oh, what was the man's name? Locke, that was it. Yes, she was his to deal with, if what she could feel from him through the Force was any indicator, and, well...it didn't tend to lie very often. The sound of his body impacting hers was only a confirmation of what she'd known was going to happen.
As for the next that attacked, Kellick watched him through the Force, but beyond that...no, he did not yet warrant her attention. There were others to deal with him, and there was something else, something...stronger here. It was hard to identify, hard to see, concealed, but there none the less. Something approached, something she could not leave for the others to deal with, something she would not allow them to fight. It would be for her to face, and her alone. Anyone else would only be placing themselves in unnecessary danger, and that was not something the Sage Master was willing to have come to pass.
And there it was, finally revealing itself. Herself, more aptly put. Yes, it was this woman that she felt, the source of the presence sending subtle ripples through the Force simply by being. There were not many who had such an effect on their surroundings, especially without even trying. This woman...she was powerful, indisputably, and not powerful as a blademaster. No, she was like Kellick, remarkably so, even, almost coming across as something of a...mirror image to the Sage Master, like a glimpse of herself were she to fall. An even match? Perhaps, perhaps not. Only time would tell, though even should this woman prove too much for the Jedi Master, Kellick would make damn sure her victory gained nothing for the Sith, and she would also make damn sure this woman would have to work for every step.
Just as her brother, she was quite stubborn like that.
Yet still, even as the Force snaked out from this woman, followed shortly by explosions as the pair of speeders met their untimely end, along with numerous lives of those running for the exits, Kellick remained motionless, eyes softly held closed, her silken hair swaying gently in the soft wind. Not even the crash of the hoverpod shortly thereafter stirred her, nor the screams that followed. A few seconds passed before the all to familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber came to her ears, and finally, a response came. Drawing in a slow breath, she exhaled sharply through her nose, and as her gray eyes flicked open, the air around the dais stood still as the Force around the High Council member had become. Turning her head to face the darksider, her body slowly followed, her blade still held loosely by her side. Locking eyes with the woman, her faded green blade hissed to life, the tip hovering scarcely an inch from the floor. "Enough."
Her tone as serene and emotionless as her eyes, Kellick calmly raised her arm and braced her feet, adopting a seemingly lax Soresu stance, her forward hand held outwards before her, bent slightly at the elbow, her hand softly cupping upwards. The Force swirled gently around her, tension building in the air. Though contained, the Force seemingly crackled between the two women in anticipation of what would come. It was probably for the best that the Chancellor couldn't feel the Force; if she could, she, as any who could who weren't too horribly preoccupied, would undoubtedly be able to see the approaching storm, and it could easily be seen as something you did not want to be standing very close to when it hit. "You wish death and destruction, agony and fear? Then I am what stands in your way. End me, and you will be scarcely opposed here. Ignore me, and you will find me a more than a simple nuisance to your efforts. Come, dark one, let us test each other."
No smart comments today, no, not yet. Too much was at stake, too much death had already been spread for her to bring humor to this. Her sense of humor was not so...pervasive as Regnier's. No matter the situation, no matter what ever could be happening, he could easily have made a dry remark, whether appropriate or not, to shatter the tension, all the more surprising considering he had been among the most somber members of the Order. Kellick had a little better sense of appropriate timing, so...perhaps later, if she could drag this away from the Chancellor.
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sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
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last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
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Aug 3, 2010 22:18:38 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Aug 3, 2010 22:18:38 GMT -5
As Byar brought the speeder bike into the alley, he could see through the smoke that the girl had already arrived. No, not girl. Captain. Or was it commander? Did the girl Yin even have an official rank in the Sith military?
It didn't matter though. The higher-ups had instructed him and his squad to follow this Sith's orders, and so he obeyed. He had worked with her on Agamar. She hadn't been the easiest person the work with, but they had gotten the job done. And she hadn't tried to Force choke any of them at all during the mission. He had been afraid of that.
"Will we be going after the chancellor now?" he asked as the rest of the men gathered around him. There were a dozen of them, all good troopers, each a sure shot with a blaster rifle and a maniac behind the controls of a speeder bike.
She walked around in the small circle, rubbing her chin with a metal hand. She seemed to do that a lot when thinking. He couldn't help but wonder if she could even feel anything through those fingers. It only took her a few seconds to respond, but given the situation, it felt like hours. "Not quite."
She must have noticed the surprise that briefly flashed across his face. "Too many Republic troops. Would crush us. If they knew where we were."
"Then what are your orders?"
"Divide your squad. Send two with me. Three more will loop around to the east. Meet at the stadium."
"And the rest?"
She tapped a few buttons on the dashboard of her speeder bike, and a small holomap on the surrounding city popped. "See these industrial buildings and factories? To the west? Burn them. They're all gathered here and around the stadium. No one there to stop you. When I'm at the stadium I want to see the smoke."
"But the chancellor?"
"Is mine to take care of. There is a Jedi Master down there, possibly even a council member. If it hadn't been for her we'd be heading home by now. Your men won't be able to make much of a difference against that kind of enemy. Instead, you will be giving these Republic troops something to look at. Now ride."
They rode.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
1,617 posts
86 likes
Rocking from the Great White North
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last online Apr 20, 2022 19:46:47 GMT -5
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Aug 3, 2010 22:35:46 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Aug 3, 2010 22:35:46 GMT -5
They say that when your body is under duress, it can become capable of things it would not be able to do under normal circumstances. Jazen was finding that out first hand this day. And it was only after his most recent escape that he was thankful he'd learned how to ignore the exhaustion and pain his body endured. Or that his body had become much more resilient to those factors.
The battle that had spread out over the stadium was becoming more condensed, its outer rings closing tighter and tighter around the dias that was its center. The soldiers that had suddenly sprung up to aid their Sith leaders, while at first glance appeared to be randomly attacking, were showing signs of coordinating their attacks. Their shots at panicking members of the audience often forced them into the path of Republic soldiers, allowing the Sith troops to use them as cover to get to a better position or to give them a cleaner shot at their foes.
It was with a pair of these soldiers that Jazen was preoccupied with. He had been only about two steps away from being able to leap off the stands onto the grounds below when they had spotted him, blaster rifles unloading round of round of deadly light in his direction. Jazen was glad in this moment to have started training in Soresu; his blade came up in short, quick cuts, reflecting the bolts harmlessly away or back at his foes. He was no master with it, but it was enough to keep them from blasting him into tomorrow.
He knew he couldn't stand there blocking their shots forever. And his skill with said stance wasn't good enough yet to allow him to accurately direct those shots back to their sender. So he opted for another approach. He tuned his senses to them, focusing much of his attention in the Force on them. And he gently and carefully started moving back from them, making it look like he was retreating. It didn't take long for one of them to try advancing, to keep the pressure on. He could feel their impending glee at the thought of taking down a Jedi. And it made them blind to what one of his saber strikes had done.
Both of them continued advancing on him, the second one making sure to keep an eye on the area around them. They moved with the precision of a well trained unit, placing shots in places where Jazen would have a hard time blocking them. No different from the training droids, but those blasts wouldn't just sting. They would kill. But Jazen's plan so far had worked. To the soldiers left, one of the seats started to rattle. But above the sounds of the battle, they didn't hear it. As the back soldier moved to reload, the seat suddenly exploded to life, slamming into his side. If the man screamed as he fell over the railing, Jazen didn't hear it. With only one foe to worry about now, Jazen was advancing on the lone man, now using his speed and agility to close the distance between them. It was his turn now.
That's when the area in front of him exploded. Both Jazen and the soldier turned to look at source of the light that suddenly engulfed their vision just in time to see the second speeder slam down from above, sending ripples of fear, pain and death into the Force. Jazen almost doubled over from the sudden surge of the negative emotions, his lack of experience with such a great loss of life threatening to overwhelm his body. But he bit down on the surge, focused his mind on the task at hand and centered himself before it could.
Just in time too. Danger rippled through the Force like a well placed kick to the head and Jazen's eyes spun to its source. And before his mind could fully contemplate what was happening, his body was moving, diving over the railing as the hover pod slammed into the spot he had just vacated. As he fell, he saw the outline of the soldier for an instant before it vanished beneath the crushing form of the pod. Well, at least it would be instantaneous and no pain would be felt. Landing on the ground below, Jazen winced upon impact, the Force and his knees barely keeping the impact from being as painful as it could have been.
He didn't have time to rest. This entire field was still in chaos, the Chancellor was not yet safe. And he could sense his Master, somewhere near the dias, locked in combat. And with no plain old Sith soldier either. Biting down on the pain that had suddenly sprung to life in his ankle, Jazen ran onto the field, careful to watch for stray or intentional shots on him. Something else was on the field, something that made all the other spots of black pale in comparison. Whatever it was, it reminded Jazen of a black flood of pure darkness, swooping and engulfing all around it. He did his best to ignore it as he ran for his intended destination.
"Just a little longer Master. Hold on just a little longer."[/i]
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Aug 4, 2010 23:20:14 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Aug 4, 2010 23:20:14 GMT -5
"Woman, when you die, be it here or later on, t'will be by my hands."
The words invaded Naaden's mind, and sent a chill down her spine. This was no chill of fear -- it was a reaction to the realization of the true gravity of the situation.
As it were, the Sith could kill her. Naaden didn't care -- as long as her service to the Galaxy was done. But now, it was not, and Naaden refused to be frightened, even as she was hustled towards the edge of the stage, the roaring of the crowd biting at her ears.
Even as another woman appeared, death seeping from her eyes and caked on her face. One did not need the Force to know that this woman breathed evil. She embodied evil.
Evil smiled warmly at the Chancellor.
The Chancellor smiled coldly back.
Then the Master Jedi stepped forward, and slipped the evil eyes away. Naaden turned, and with quick steps, continued with her guards. She thanked whatever forces be for the skill and resiliency of those that surrounded her now. A stronger mind was more difficult for the Force to manipulate, Naaden knew this. And in a battle tainted by the Sith, this was of the utmost importance.
Naaden flinched in a knee-jerk reflex as blaster fire squealed around her. Like a flurry of angry red hornets, they attacked. Jones was to her right, and his pistol bit more than one of the attackers.
The Sith had planted sleepers in Security, it was the only thing that explained the sudden appearance not of so many, but of so many with guns.
Naaden found it odd that Jones suddenly slowed. Had he seen something? Was there a hidden threat? Wha--
He turned and she saw the hole in his chest, edges burnt and black. He stumbled and she caught him.
"Oops," he said, and his voice was thin. He wasn't gone but he was going fast.
"Jones--"
"It's been an honor..."
His body went limp and fell to the ground.
"By the force, Jones, why'd you have to go and be all cliche and sentimental..."
But cliche and sentimental put a knot deep in Victoria's throat. "Man down!" she called, and for the first time that day, emotion was betrayed in her voice. "Man Down!"
Just like that, Jones was dead; Just like that, a woman was without a life; Just like that, a child without a father; and just like that, Naaden had lost a friend.
Now it was personal. Something needed to happen to make what was personal to the Galaxy, personal to the Chancellor, but why did it have to be this? Why did it have to be Jones?
It was almost too surreal for the questions to form, and the answers lurked even further away.
As she knelt by him, she simultaneously noticed two things; Jones's blaster, fallen from his limp hand; and a Sith, leering with satisfaction. Taunting the Chancellor, I just killed your little friend. What you gonna do about it?
Victoria Aspen Naaden knew exactly what. She snatched the blaster off the ground, settling it into her hands, arms extended. She stood, leveled it at the Sith, and pulled the trigger.
Maybe it was luck. Maybe it was fate. Either way, the bolt ripped hit the Sith square in the head. Wiped that smug leer right off his face.
She turned to see that Sigmund and Beck had arrived to attend to their fallen comrade. She nodded in approval, and once more buried herself in the center of her personal guard. They moved down and off the stage, and began through one of the aisles.
Now Victoria had a Pistol. She knew how to use it, and she was going to. Albeit, she'd been battle trained and hardened on a Senate floor, not in the heat of battle. But she wasn't a bad shot, so she couldn't hinder.
When the day's events, the day's deaths had sunk in, Naaden would have much introspection in store.
But now, while adrenaline numbed her, the only thing left to do was survive. And shoot some gorram Sith, of course.
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Apillis
Poonikins
1,153 posts
108 likes
Cotton candy, sweet and low, let me see that tootsie roll!
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last online May 10, 2023 15:20:37 GMT -5
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Aug 5, 2010 1:42:01 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Aug 5, 2010 1:42:01 GMT -5
"Enough."
A little smile formed on those dark gray lips in reaction.
"You wish death and destruction, agony and fear? Then I am what stands in your way. End me, and you will be scarcely opposed here. Ignore me, and you will find me a more than a simple nuisance to your efforts. Come, dark one, let us test each other."
The dark woman arched an eyebrow with a little bit of a smirk, "What. I. Wish?... Master Jedi, you do not understand...", she uttered with her soft feminine voice as each word was saturated with the dark side's corruption -- and even a little bit of its temptation perhaps. She unclipped her cloak letting it fall to her feet. In all respects a lovely woman with a lithe, lean, athletic form, though the corruption of the dark side truly having made its marks upon her. Running her delicate, slender fingers of her free hand through her hair pulling her bangs out of her face, she went on to say, "Whatever diatribe you may hear... from my contemporaries to your own Jedi propaganda... The Chancellor's death... the slaughtering of Republic citizens... showing how meager the Republic truly is... These things are all superfluous. For all of that has already been accomplished by our simply being here. What we wish... what we truly wish... even if my 'allies' are ignorant to it... Is to face you... It is because of you, Master Jedi...
"And I do not mean you personally, of course... But the Jedi as a whole... You are what truly called us here... In reality, had the Jedi never been here, it would have been entirely likely a Sith Lord would have never been present. For the current situation you only have yourselves to blame... You sould have known that your presence, Master Jedi... would have called out to us... The eternal struggle of light and dark is a continual cycle... With the very figure that the Jedi wish to protect so dearly as a symbol of hope, strength, and leadership for the republic all of you wish to serve as a shield for paraded out in public... How could you possibly have had even an ounce of doubt that we Sith Lords would not seek to take it from you, Master Jedi?"
Those crimson hues turned to the panicking, screaming crowds as they drowned within their own fears, those eyes then slowed turned back to the Jedi Master before her, "All of this... is because of you... Jedi...", those dark gray lips cuuuuuuuuuuuurled into a pure and utterly perfect expression of a diabolical grin, "...all because you gave us precisely what we wish... Your vulnerablity, Master Jedi...", her eyes slowly turned glancing over her shoulder at Naaden, "...to protect a symbol."
For all those sensitive to such things, an overwhelming sense of impending danger and peril flooded their senses.... and for good reason. Lifting her hands gracefully high above her head only a second later she threw her arms out wide. In the precise moment her arms extended outward massive, dense destructive layers and layers of waves of raw Force energy pulsed from her very being expanding outward. The immense layers rocked and shook the very stadium itself violently as the dais fell victim to the destructive Telekinetic waves Acalya abruptly unleashed with her Force Repulse. For numerous meters in radius everything around Acalya was being torn apart, lifted up, and flung for incredible distances and terrifying speeds. Bodies flew as if they were paper bags in caught in devastating storm.
By the destructions end it looked as though a bomb had been set off, though standing with that little smile of hers, stood Acalya at its very focal point. Those crimson hues washing over all the destruction until falling to the location of the Jedi Master, "Yes, Master Jedi... let us test one another... That is why I am here... and what I wish..."
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Aug 14, 2010 0:53:35 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 14, 2010 0:53:35 GMT -5
The world turned into single blur just as her final stroke fell towards the man. Though she didn't feel the powerful concussive burst of a Force push, at least not one that was meant to cast her as far as she surmised he could. Instead, she found herself hovering harmlessly in the air, much like she'd done to that Jedi, looking down at the man as he got up and let a quip fly. "Oh, Jedi, y-" the wind was thrown out of her lungs when the concussion of a powerful Force push was thrown into her.
Her flight would be a long one. He shot her up at an angle that was well above 45 degrees, which was good... it would give her time to recover. Though the landing would be less than graceful. The soft flutter of her blue silk raiment was barely audible over the bedlam down below in the stadium, though it seemed quickly seemed like all life was drained from the crowd at random. Power tingled at her flesh as she flew, causing it to prickle with goose pimples.
The huntress turned her head, but found that her wild black mane clouded her vision. Until she felt the slow arch of her body as it ran out of energy, and fell back towards the bleachers. That was when she saw it. A massive blast of the Force erupted from the Sith Lady as she stood at the dais. That blast repulsed everything back in a single, powerful explosion of raw power. It was impressive. Everything was cast aside as if it was a toy, people and equipment alike, and even parts of the floor near the woman was torn off and thrown. It was impressive.
Adara was in awe. Her mouth was agape as she plummeted to the earth, not caring that the wind filled her mouth and stung at her eyes. They simply observed the destruction as it unfolded before them. She was dumbstruck. So much power vested in a single entity... it did more than just call for attention. It required it. Only at the last moment did she realize where she was, and roll around so that her body would take less damage from the fall. The Force helped, but her somersault upon hitting the ground did far more.
It didn't take long for the woman's gaze to rest upon the Jedi Knight once more, her eyes holding the countenance one would expect from a lioness. The Jedi's power cut through the sweet, sweet feeling of chaotic fear that pervaded the place, lighting it... soothing the fear by doing nothing more than existing.
To slay the pious man at that instant would have been... so ironic. He was a man that, despite what he thought of himself, was expected to defend the people of the Republic and beyond. Moreover, he was expected to lay down his life in their defense. Or so she could understand from what little she could glean from the cryptic (at best) jedi code. "Tell me, Jedi," her staff made a dull hum as it spun in lazy circles at her side, "why do you eschew the dark so? Is it truly such a terrifying thing? Wielding a power far greater than you, or anyone, could imagine?"
Adara paused for little more than dramatic effect and to place the emitter of her staff into the rough duracrete. Not that he could tell; the phrik-plated staff was symmetrical. The woman tilted her head ever so slightly, causing the metallic beads clasped to her hair to clank against each other as the hair slipped off of her shoulder. "Why do you even defend these people?" Her voice held the tone of a bewilderment as she motioned her head towards the throng of people driven insane by fear, "who care for no one but themselves in during this crisis? Who are too stupid to realize that this event isn't about their death, but their salvation?"
A heavy sigh caused her shoulders to sink downwards and her chin to lazily follow suit as if to say "I know you won't listen to reason". A feigned look of sadness borne of righteousness, an obvious mockery at what the Jedi would be doing were the roles reversed, flitted about her face. That mocking expression quickly grew a smirk and her eyes met with his form once more, looking up at him past her forehead. "Let us see if you have the prowess to test the limits of my endurance, Jedi."
There she stood, perfectly still, as if she was elegant yet barbarous statue carved out of the most graceful stone. Her staff supporting her weight as if she'd walked all day, and the beautiful blue silk raiment gleaming in the stadium's flood lights.
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Regnier
I get paid to kill bodies, and I enjoy my job. Any questions?
802 posts
0 likes
Maimkillburn?
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last online Jan 19, 2012 4:30:24 GMT -5
Guardian
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Aug 15, 2010 1:48:28 GMT -5
Post by Regnier on Aug 15, 2010 1:48:28 GMT -5
For someone who did not know the Sage Master personally, perhaps they would have felt a little surprise at how seemingly unaffected by this dark woman's words she was. Blaming the Jedi for all that was transpiring, and with sound enough logic to have possibly made a less stubborn mind doubt, if only for a second, their presence in the stadium. But Kellick? No, it would take a great deal more convincing for her to believe she was in the wrong in any way here.
Remaining silent, she tilted her head ever so slightly an arched an eyebrow, giving the woman an almost bored look as she listened to her go on and on for what seemed forever about how this was all their fault. Opening her mouth slightly to formulate a response, she stopped. There it was. It wasn't subtle, and she obviously wasn't trying to hide it, but Kellick still got the distinct feeling that now was not the time to be humble while defending herself. The Force swelled around this woman like...like it would herself, were she about to cause some serious damage.
As the dark woman brought her arms high, Kellick closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath, drawing the Force to herself. Deactivating her blade and holding both her arms slightly behind her, time slowed to a crawl. Adrenaline surged. The air crackled. And then came the storm. Expanding out like a shockwave of immense force, it was almost like witnessing a meteor strike, minus the generation of heat. But it was not. This was more than simple kinetic energy. This was the Force. But as powerful as it was, still it could be stopped, were it to, say, encounter an opposing force of equal to greater magnitude.
Eyes snapping open as the first splinter of wood broke free from the dais, an open hand shot forward scarcely before the first destructive wave reached her, slamming a much more concentrated fist of pure, physical Force energy, the two opposing forces canceling each-other out. Almost before the motion was finished, she brought her other hand forward, balled into a fist, catching the next wave in the same manner, and again, her main hand surged forward, repeating the process until the destruction ended.
Dust hung in the air from the torn ground, wooden shrapnel and warped pieces of metal and plasteel rained down everywhere. Well, almost everywhere. Concealed within the dust, a small bubble protected what it lay over from falling objects until the air had cleared of the dangerous stuff. With a thought and a wave of the hand, the bubble vanished from existence, and the dust was moved aside as though by a strong gust of wind, and there she stood, almost unmoved. Were the dais where she had originally stood still existed as a whole object, one likely would have been able to see almost a foot's worth of skid marks left from rubber soles, ending in the place she now stood. But, as it didn't, it was rather difficult to tell the Sage Master had moved at all. Before her, around her, destruction, everywhere, but the section of the stage upon which she stood, scarcely an inch to either side of her boots, and a small V that led to the edge of the stage behind her still stood. Sort of. She shifted her weight slightly to keep from falling off the side as her little island, now without any of the former support around it, creaked and sank slightly.
Hopping off the edge and landing with a dull thwumpf that sent dirt out around her feet in a small cloud, Kellick stood again and picked a small piece of wood from her hair as she brushed dust from her shoulder. Eying the large splinter somberly, she flicked it away and returned her gaze to the cause of all this carnage as the remainder of the stage crumbled under its own weight. "Sith, is it? Well then, as fascinating as your attempt at guilting me into wavering has been, I am perfectly aware that you really do believe it is our presence that drew you, but whether true or not, it is not a Jedi that is to blame for the death today, say what you will. Besides, I believe your argument is perhaps a little premature; you say vulnerability, but I would say that you must first win this battle before you may call it that."
Arms raising until they lay outstretched to her sides, a large portion of all the small wooden, metal, and glass and the not-so-small wooden, metal and duracrete shrapnel that the Sith herself had created rose into the air around the both of them. "So all opinionated arguments aside, yes, why don't we just get this over with and kill each-other-" Moving one arm out before her, and the other behind her, she snapped them to opposite positions, swinging her balled fists all the way around her body as if attempting to blindly punch someone on either side of her in the side of the head. Millions of small, pointed objects, with a few larger, more blunted pieces thrown in for good measure, swirled in the air at speed enough that the average human eye would not be capable of keeping track, as if a pair of small tornadoes had risen to life and had decided to move towards each-other, meeting over the Sith as they passed.
"-after all, I have places to be, and far less gloomy people to entertain. Wouldn't want to keep them waiting, would we now?"
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
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last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
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Aug 15, 2010 13:30:59 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Aug 15, 2010 13:30:59 GMT -5
There had been very few times in Asir Vereek's life when he'd been at a loss for words. He was a naturally chatty guy, friendly and open to everyone, and rarely seen without a smile. But as his hoverpod soared up over the unfolding chaos in R. Delspoden Stadium, he could hardly think, let alone speak.
The scene was horrible; innocent people fled in every direction, seeking to escape the stadium--seeking to live--as Sith fighters hidden in the crowd revealed themselves and started firing indiscriminately into the mass. It was funny how that, even now, as the world erupted around it, the crowd continued to act as one single living, breathing organism. Only a few moments before it had waited, filled with anticipation to hear Naaden's words, to take her call to heart and be given something to believe in. And when the Sith reached out and snatched that much away, it reacted, filling with panic as each individual within made the decision that trying to survive was more important than staying in the stadium.
Now that same instinct to live was turning against the crowd, and as such, it began to destroy itself. The tunnels that lead down and out of the stadium were starting to clog as hordes of people tried to flood through them. People fell to the ground, and the mob, in its panic paid them no mind. In this place, in this crowd, to fall was to die, as one's countrymen stampeded like a crazed herd. Add to that the Sith, who took advantage of and focused on the bottlenecks, and you had the perfect conditions for a massacre, as the stadium's security teams scrambled to try to regain some kind of control over the situation.
"You can all see as well as I can what's happening here," he said. His voice was heavy and solemn, his expression crestfallen. When he looked up at the camera, his eyes were red and wet with tears that he was fighting to hold back. "I don't have the words to descr-"
The sudden sound explosions cut him off, and he looked to the source of one of them. "By the Force..." He gasped in horror as he saw a small fireball rising up from the ruins of a speeder. Something had made it crash into one of the exits, turning the passageway into little more than a dangerous maze of concrete, rebar and burning mechanical parts. But there were people down there. Down there where the explosion was... Asir suddenly felt very sick.
He looked up to Torsh, to the camera, and into the faces of every being that was watching the broadcast across the Galaxy. He didn't know what to say, but his expression--an expression of complete helplessness and shock--was enough.
And then he was ripped away.
Some invisible hand grabbed his hoverpod and threw it like a toy, sending it hurtling toward the bottom deck of the stands. Asir held onto the rail for dear life and screamed like he'd never screamed before. The last thing he remembered hearing before the impact was a loud, powerful sounding fmwoosh from the middle of the field.
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Locke watched the woman sail off through the air with a grim satisfaction. Well, that gets me at least a moment of reprieve. He glanced around him, seeing the scene, around him, but not really taking it in. The glance was enough to know that Naaden's security detail was moving her away from the dais, and at the moment, that was the most important thing.
The orange blade in his hand whirred loudly as he spun it around once and looked up to see the Sith woman righting herself as she fell. "Not like I shouldn't have expected that," he grumbled. "Looks like I'll just have to meet her when she lands and keep the pressure on." He started to run after her.
He got all of two steps.
As the third was falling, there was a noise, and a swelling of power in the Force behind him, back on the dais. He turned to look over his shoulder in time to see a wave of energy exploding out from the stage before it sent him skyward in the direction he'd thrown the woman only a moment before. The impact hurt. It felt like a brick wall had been thrown into his back, knocking the wind from his lungs and distorting his face into a mask of pain.
There wasn't time to for focusing on the pain, though. The duracrete floor in front of the stands was rushing up at Locke, and he really didn't want to just flop into it like some fish out of the water. No, if he was going to flop onto the ground, he'd flop with style.
The Force came to him as he called it, creating a cushion of air below him as he flipped midair to right himself. He slammed down into the ground in a crouch, though the momentum from the blow had him sliding back for about two or so feet before he came to a halt, with his hand down in between his legs for balance.
"This is all a little bit to exciting for me," he muttered under his breath as he stood up to his full height, shaking out his legs to work out some of the pain that had come from his landing. All things considered, he was fine. But, as he stood there, blade calmly held by his side as he stared down his foe, he wondered how long things might remain that way.
She spoke, attempting to reverse the usual talk that Jedi gave to Dark-siders on him, of all people. He almost rolled his eyes, but instead he set his jaw in determination and looked around the stands at the people. The people he'd sworn an oath to protect. The people that were dying, both from the terror of their peers and the fire of Sith fighters dispersed among them.
"This is their salvation, huh?" he asked flatly when he looked back to the woman. "If this is 'salvation', I'd hate to see what you'd call damnation." He snorted and spun his blade twice in his hand before bringing it up vertically in front of his face in the beginnings of a Makashi salute. He held it there. "But if you wish me to test your endurance," he finished the salute, making a crisp 'x' in the air in front of him before bringing his blade back down to his side with a final flourishing spin, "then so be it."
He studied her for a heart beat before forming a plan. While he didn't doubt his ability in close quarters combat, he was wary about getting in close with that staff she wielded. Not that I don't have other options, of course.
He took a short jump back and reached out to the Force. Energy gathered in his hand as he went back and he smirked at her. "Hold on to your potatoes." The blast was released the moment he touched the ground. A powerful wave of the Force raced out toward her, kicking up pieces of trash and dust in its wake. Almost as soon as the push left his hand, Locke's hand went under his coat to grab a blaster pistol--the same one Jazen had just given him.
His arm came up.
The pistol pointed at the woman.
He fired.
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Silas
Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken
742 posts
10 likes
Lord of the Morning, I have come for you!
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last online Jun 24, 2023 23:32:54 GMT -5
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Aug 15, 2010 21:34:39 GMT -5
Post by Silas on Aug 15, 2010 21:34:39 GMT -5
It was a demon in angel’s body. The moment he lay eyes on her from that point on his little perch, there was something about her that sent shivers down his spine. Perhaps there was honour in that. For a second he could respect her, but there was no such privilege for those who fell to the graces of the dark arts. The power she seethed, though, she could have his heart in those pale fingers in a second if she simply wished it. These were the things which brought respect; a fear almost. Still, the fear in him remained dormant for he could not wait here as his people were slaughtered, nor could he stand as she mocked them. The twist of her lips, the sneer on her mouth, it disgusted him more so than it probably should. Should she find her way out of here, he could sense her death would come in due time. Not because it was her choice, but for the simple reason of her destiny.
Upon the dais she stood as she captured the Aquitan’s attention surely, as if caught in a snare. Suddenly he could feel it, like a stab in his mind that sent out danger to his whole body, but even as he reacted it was too late. Too weak. All he could do was be swept up in it, and desperately cling to the hopes that he might not hurt himself along the way.
Telekinetic energy hit him with enough force to smash him, but in a vain effort he cushioned himself with a blast of his own. The energy contorted around him as the two waves smashed into each other, the energy of the Force flowed as opposites. Still it held up against the other’s power like paper, as if simply gave him enough time to prepare for the brute of the attack. It still flung him from his perch as the wall hit him, it pushed him through the air as he tried to brace himself however vain his attempt was. With his prowess in Telekinetics he fought this warfare until he slammed into the seats which lined all around them. Darkness skirted the edge of his vision as the breath escaped his mouth. The entire world hung for a second while he tried to gain his bearings.
I can’t breath, his mind frantically told himself as he gasped for breath, his fingers clawed at the rail in front of him as he felt the cold steely fingers of death wrap around his neck. Slowly one breath entered his lungs, then another, and slowly he could feel life enter him once more.
With one hand he gripped the rail as his head spun like cotton has been shoved into his brain. Everything seemed fuzzy, distant, and he knew if he stayed this way much longer he would not have eyes to see, nor a head to think with. Silently he closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths to get his strength back, and looked around to see where he had landed. Relatively, he was still close to the ground, but several yards away from where he had started. When he looked around he could see the speaker he’d been on right next to him, and several other things were scattered about. One apprehensive swallow was all he allowed himself as he realised just how powerful this woman really was. This wasn’t a situation he’d like to take lightly, and his mind snapped to a realisation that this had just gotten from bad to catastrophic.
People roved all around him, their call to the duty presented before them to great to engage in the sole reason of this campaign, to protect the chancellor. They milled about, their solitary fights intermingled as they brought their weapons of war down upon each other. In all this clamour he’d dropped his pike, so with one hand he brought it into his grip once more. With a grace of a hound which stalked its prey he loped down the seats of the stadium towards the chancellor who now stood all alone, with the corpse of a man near her who seemed to be her guard. The one thing which the Republic could not stand at this moment was the loss of another chancellor, so if all else failed she must be kept alive.
Something itched on the tip of his nose. They had already lost. So many people had died thus far, but the sight of smoke in the distance brought to his eyes what he could not imagine. Fire. In this city it would not destroy the foundations, but it would gut everything, and anything that got in its way.
As the Force guided him he fell upon the ground of the stadium once more, his feet padded by the soft touch of the turf. With a light flick of his tail he moved silently across the ground as he headed towards the woman. One hand firm around the pike in his hands as he raced towards Nadaan, her fate might very well hang in his hands. Sadly, that made him feel sorry for her.
The crowd of her personal body guard eased him a bit, but they were no match against any one of those Sith, if it came to that. Hopefully, if the Jedi did there job it wouldn’t, though. Perhaps he could distract any that might bar their way, even if it meant his life. Could he sacrifice his life for a figurehead? Mordin could only hope he would be able to.
”Hopefully now you can make your timely escape uninterrupted, milady,” The Aquitan muttered brusquely to himself more than anyone else. She might have caught win of it, but he simply held up the rear of their little entourage, the inky black of his eyes moved over the entire field in a look for anyone who might stop them.
Then he saw the speeder.
The determination on the woman's face.
And suddenly he knew the face of his enemy.
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sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
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last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
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Aug 17, 2010 4:32:28 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Aug 17, 2010 4:32:28 GMT -5
"Status report."
"Reached the stadium early. Virtually no Republic resistance on the route. It appears that the chancellor is still inside."
"Bring out the incendiaries. Set it all on fire. Smoke her out."
"Acknowledged. Trom out."
A Republic speeder appeared behind them as soon as Zarene signed off on the comlink. She turned to the two troopers who rode beside her. "Faral, Canvelle, split off from me. Same orders as Trom. Burn it all." Faral nodded, and his bike split off to the left, while Canvelle's veered off the right, disappearing into the maze of alleyways. The Republic speeder remained focused on her. She slammed her foot on the accelerator, and the speeder gave chase.
The streets were chaos, the crowd consisting both of frightened civilians fleeing the stadium, as well as soldiers en route to Svanhildr building, having not all gotten the memo that the assassin had already left the area. Zarene pulled back on the handlebars, and the bike rose into the air, sailing over the heads of the panicked civilians and confused soldiers. Behind her, the speeder skiddied to a halt, its driver quite intent on avoiding running over any civilians.
To the west, a plume of black smoke rose into the air, dark chemicals polluting a clear sky. Byar's group must have reached the factories and begun their work. She could hear the yelling of Republic soldiers as some of them diverted to address the new threat. A single speeder bike did not seem nearly as important.
One last turn, and the stadium came into view. The entire structure seemed to creak from the massive flows of Force being wielded in the battle inside. Zarene did not think that she had ever felt a greater amount of Force power being used in battle before. A series of small fires had begun burning on the east side of the building, threatening to become an inferno if they remained unchecked. But there was no time to admire the view. She was here for one specific target, and she quickly scanned the area for her prey. And there she was, the Chancellor, near one of the exits, accompanied by only a small number of guards, behind a tall dark figure that she could not find any words better to describe than as a "leathery elf."
Speed was the essential element. She had to attack while the element of surprise was still hers. THe bike streaked towards the stadium exit there the Chancellor stood, accelerating up to full speed. One hundred yards. Fifty. Thirty. Twenty.
Ten.
She focused power in her legs, pushed off the bike, up and backwards, and she was flying, high in the air. With a metallic click, a panel on the top of her mechanical arm opened, revealing a small rocket launcher. She twisted her body to aim her arm towards the exit. Ready. Aim.
Fire.
The bike continued traveling on its deadly trajectory. The rocket streaked towards its target. Zarene landed on the ground, the impact having been softened with the Force. Her blasters flew out of her hip holsters and into her hands. Her first shot may have been blocked, but she was here now to finish the job.
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Kuhblam
I've got two guns, one for each of ya'.
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last online Sept 7, 2013 15:30:01 GMT -5
Guardian
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Aug 17, 2010 16:18:57 GMT -5
Post by Kuhblam on Aug 17, 2010 16:18:57 GMT -5
(OOC: My computer is bending over to viruses right now, so I'm not going to post a long one. Sorry for the lack of detail in this; I know I can write better and I've put this off for several days.)
His field boots taking him in long, quick strides through the exit hangar area, Jedi Knight Ryke Torus moved quickly as he escorted the Chancellor and her personal security team out of the stadium through it's ground level corridors, the only Jedi remaining unopposed against the various Sith adversaries who had risen up to attack the various Jedi guards and Republic troopers stationed through the stadium. He had since lost his traditional robes, and the battle armor he wore plus the yellow-bladed light-saber hilt in his hand signified the dangerous occupation Ryke had taken up. His gaze constantly taking into account all aspects of the chaos over-taking the stadium and the surrounding city, Ryke turned as he realized he was beginning to outpace the Chancellor and her security team.
Slowing down, he matched the elderly Chancellor's speed as they reached the hangar, where a speeder as well as four or five troopers stood watch with blaster rifles in hand. Waving his hand and signaling them to start the speeder up, Ryke was about to unnecessarily check on the Chancellor again when he saw a speeder jetting it's way directly for the exit hangar, moving in down the street as it's lone occupant fired a warhead straight at their get-away vehicle. Without ample time to re-direct the warhead or even slow it down, Ryke had no choice but to jump upwards in an augmented leap of faith as the small missile connected with the speeder and sent it's wounded hulk in several different pieces, killing the guards who had attended it in the first place. As the exit hangar became engulfed in smoke and a fiery explosion took root, the speeder that the assassin had been using collided against the inner wall of the hangar, creating a secondary firestorm that engulfed part of the room as security team members struggled to get the Chancellor away from the scene.
As he landed, Ryke automatically moved into an Ataru stance as his light-saber flew into his hand from it's normal position on Ryke's utility belt. A burning yellow blade emitting with a powerful hum, Ryke's eyes squinted through the smoke as he ran forwards towards where the supposed assassin had to be located. As he moved closer and out of the thin smoke trail, Ryke slid on his heels before deflecting two blaster shots away from himself, the yellow blade he wielded deftly deflecting the crimson bolts away from the security team.
His mind focusing on the task at hand, Ryke used his instincts to block several more shots, the energy bolts dissipating on durasteel walls as they failed to connect with their mark. In front of Ryke, his adversary continued to fire, hoping to drop Ryke in a hailstorm of blaster-fire and eliminate the only protection for the Chancellor that had been un-opposed to this point. Tendrils of the Force snaked outwards from his mind, searching for other potential threats in the area but finding none. There was this one target he needed to neutralize, and then the Chancellor would be home free. The question was, however, whether this feminine assassin would continue to attack at range or duel him up close and personal in martial combat.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
1,617 posts
86 likes
Rocking from the Great White North
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last online Apr 20, 2022 19:46:47 GMT -5
Master
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Aug 17, 2010 16:30:13 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Aug 17, 2010 16:30:13 GMT -5
Jazen had been so close to Locke and the sith woman she was fighting when the stadium suddenly became a true nightmare. His blue lighsaber had been deflecting the stray bolts members of the Sith soldiers had been taking at him, sending them harmlessly into the ground around him. He was glad, once again, to have taken to learning Soresu. In a situation like this, it was much more useful than his athetic Ataru. Ataru was good for combating a single foe; when outnumbered like this, the defensive approach of Soresu was much more favored.
He'd just been in the process of formulating a plan to take advantage of Locke's attack on the woman, which had sent her flying into the air; when something sweep over the inner field of the stadium like a tornado. While still far away from the source, Jazen could feel the darkness within that tornado and he could do nothing to avoid staring in the direction of the the feeling. What he saw made his stomach do several rather intrekit maneuvurs and he found himself thankful he hadn't eaten recently. He might have seen that food again if he had.
The Sith woman who was confronting Master Kellick had, with the most simplist of gestures, caused destruction on a scale Jazen had never seen before. Anything and everything within reach of that surge of devestating Force energy was suddenly slammed with a force of several tones, sending even the most sturdy items soaring away from the center, the woman. People, various equipment, even the artifical grass itself was torn asunder by the rippling waves that pulsed from the woman as easily as water from a tap. And what those powerful waves didn't destroy, the items caught in the intial surge did. Launched with the force of rocket, objects and people shot from the center of the stadium, lodging themselves in the first truly solid thing that could stop them or bouncing along unstoppable until they ran out of steam.
Luckily, the true devestation that the Sith woman's attack could have caused was diverted. Kellick countered with her own blasts of powerful Force energy, using them to not only cancel out some of the waves, but to shield anything within reach. Despite having to duck and weave and cut the items that shot at him or fell around him, Jazen could not help but stare in awe at the meeting of such two powers. Two beings at the opposite side of the spectrum, positive and negative, meeting each other in mortal combat. This is what Jazen saw when he saw Jedi and Sith; two beings made of the same material, but on opposite sides of the coin.
But he was getting distracted. That fight was not one he could aid; his presence there would just be a hinderance for Kellick, for she most likely would have to spend part of her energy just keeping him alive. And considering her foe, that could easily tip the balance. So he turned his attention back towards Locke and his foe. In the wake of watching the natural disaster unfold in front of him, Jazen had lost his chance to strike at the woman while she was in mid air. Locke was now further away from his original position as well; he had either moved of his own fruition or had possibly been caught by some of the backlash from Kellick and the women. From the grumbling he felt in his Master, he opted it was the latter.
But all was not lost. The woman was facing away from Jazen, apparently more interested in Locke than him. Whether this was because she simply didn't see him as a threat or hadn't noticed him yet, Jazen didn't know. But it gave him a chance either way. If she did know he was there though, he would need something to distract her from his approach; otherwise she'd probably just make fodder of whatever he did. He was just about to try sending his Master a signal in the Force to achieve that when Locke did it without him asking.
A surge of the Force shot its way towards the woman, followed up in quick succession by a blaster bolt. That would have to do. Dashing at full sprint, Jazen bounded up onto a piece of equipment thrown by the Force storm and launched himself towards the woman from above. As his feet left the ground, Jazen send himself into a roll in midair, tucking in his body as best he could. He became a spinning bal for a moment, during which he shrugged his shoulders, unlatching the device that held his newest toys, flexisteel whips, from their locked position around his arms. With a full length of two meters, the whips were Jazen's answer to combat should he lose his lightsaber, something that could give him an advantage over your normal close combatant.
Tightening the muscles in his arms, Jazen broke his roll as his arms lashed out, the whips snapping out from within his sleeves.They were just within reach of the woman and with the added momentum of his spin, their force was almost doubled. He aimed one to either side of the woman, calculating that she would dodge to the side to avoid Locke's attack. It was only a hunch though, based off the assumption that she would avoid taking to the skies again to evade being blown away again. Even if she did, Jazen was in a position to take advantage of that as well. As soon as he came out of the roll he had used to attack with the whips, he would retract the weapons into his sleeves, drawing his saber. His flight time would give her just enough time to dodge Locke's attack, which meant he would be able to adjust his attack to whichever way she went.
Either way, his saber would come down in a gullotine style slash, bringing it down on whichever side the woman dodged to. Even if it was straight up.
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Apillis
Poonikins
1,153 posts
108 likes
Cotton candy, sweet and low, let me see that tootsie roll!
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last online May 10, 2023 15:20:37 GMT -5
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Aug 18, 2010 4:04:24 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Aug 18, 2010 4:04:24 GMT -5
Actually seeing this Jedi Master not only survive but managed to resist her Force Repulse of her Telekinetic caliber, Acalya was pleasantly surprised. But that pleasantly surprised expression begun to slowly fade away as the Jedi Master spoke.
"Sith, is it? Well then, as fascinating as your attempt at guilting me into wavering has been, I am perfectly aware that you really do believe it is our presence that drew you, but whether true or not, it is not a Jedi that is to blame for the death today, say what you will. Besides, I believe your argument is perhaps a little premature; you say vulnerability, but I would say that you must first win this battle before you may call it that."
From everything the Jedi Master uttered, there was only a gaze of disappointment upon Acalya's visage. No teachings. No perspective... No understanding. Is what ran through her mind. The Jedi simply does not get it. This Jedi only wants to fight. The dark woman gazed upon the translucent shades of great amounts of debris swirling about her.
"So all opinionated arguments aside, yes, why don't we just get this over with and kill each-other... after all, I have places to be, and far less gloomy people to entertain. Wouldn't want to keep them waiting, would we now?"
Acalya's eyes narrowed even far less impressed with this Jedi Master than before as the tornardo of debris closed in on her. Her dark gray lips curled into an uninterested sneer as her now dull, narrow-eyed gaze stared at the Jedi Master before her. For the first time she encounters a Force-user that matches her prowess with Telekinetics... and all they proved to be was a blunt object wanting to fight like many of the reckless, foolish little Sith Initiates at the Sith Temple. Dissatisfaction is all Acalya felt in this moment.
With a slight warcry and violent sweeping of both her arms she exerted incredible amounts of layered waves as she did before as they rapidly expanded ever outward. The strength and force behind this Force Repulse was even a bit more powerful than the last. The ground beneath their feet rocked and shook and rumbled throughout the stadium while the layers fo pulsing waves for very small distance beyond the last one Acalya released. Whatever there was of the dais had now been utterly obliterated leaving behind only the dirt foundation of the stadium the dais rested above. While the swirling whirlwinds of the Force the Jedi Master were viciously dispersed sending the sharp debris caught up within them flying away like nothing.
"For all that lack of foresight diatribe coupled with an insipid wannabe-action-hero cliche...", Acalya uttered with a dark nonchalantly unimpressed monotone as her gaze piercingly looked upon the Jedi Master, "...and seeing what I can do... You attempt to strike at me with tiny debris?
"I find your inability to fully grasp the situation astonishing... You honestly think we need to defeat you to win? Master Jedi... this entire event was designed to parade out the Chancellor to show the Republic's strength and resolve as you face 'the Sith threat'? What is the result? She couldn't even finish a single sentence before being nearly killed by us, the Sith threat, and then her people in attendance being killed by the hundreds -- by us and by their own fears. Even if you manage to kill every last Sith here, do you really think that is a victory after all that has happened? Do you really think your people will see that as a victory and a showing of the Republic's strength? Or will it be nothing more than a further showing of the Jedi's failure to save the very lives you have sworn to protect? Given the wavering point of view of the Republic's public opinion upon the Jedi... do you really think they will see this as a good thing regardless of the outcome? If so. You're a fool.
"This isn't about winning battles. This is about crushing the Republic's morale.", Acalya then gestured to the crowds as they still wailed and screamed in panic as they trembled over one another to escape leading to the trembled severe injuries or deaths. While those who went for the main tunnel exit were bottlenecked, so many lives, so many helpless lives finding themselves trapped within that stadium -- trapped within their fear and horror -- deprived utterly of hope -- and all that awaited them was genocide. Acalya looked back to the Jedi Master, "Do you really consider this as uplifting the Republic's morale? We have taken that from you just by showing up. That is how we have won, truly won. Live or die. To not see this is to lack vision or be willfully blind."
The same sneer from earlier returned to her visage as she looked upon the Jedi Master, "All I see in you is the desire to fight me... It's much like looking upon the lowly chumps clamoring for what they think is power during my younger days... When I faced the famed Jedi Master Rhissai... that was facing a Jedi... a protector... This is not.", she then switched off her shoto and clipped back onto her belt, "So, I will deny you what you want. A fight with me. Which leaves you three options. You can run off to help ensure the Chancellor's continued survival -- unopposed by me... Or you can kill the Sith soldiers massacring the people at the last open exit at the stadium -- again, unopposed by me... But, as you do either... I will be slaughtering them--", she then gestured to terrified and terrorized masses, "...right in front of the galactic viewing public... Or, while I slaughter these people you can attempt to stop me. Choose wisely. Protector.", saying the label with a particular snide sarcasm blaring with mockery in her tone.
With a sudden swift Force Jump perpelled by her telekinetic prowess launching into the air, she spun around mid-flight exerting a powerful telekinetic wave in the form of Force Push at the Jedi Master as she departed her company, doing so if only to delay the Jedi if only slightly. Landing at the very edges of the mashed together crowds as the frantically pushed and shoved each other in kinetic waves attempting to escape their own frenzied chaos.
Glancing over her shoulder at whom she left behind, she grew a haught smirk that grew into a grin before unleashing an overpowering blast of lightning from left hand that crawled over the mass of people before her like lightning crawling over dark clouds in a sky. The power behind it plowed over the pressed together gatherings forcing them back and toppling over one another as they screamed in agony before death. The dark woman cut into the crowds with the exertion of the overwhelming lightning emmitting from her hand, and walked deeper into masses as the immense bolts of lightning sliced her way through, as she kept a free hand at the ready and perceptions keenly aware...
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