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last online Apr 8, 2020 19:14:54 GMT -5
Guardian
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Aug 19, 2010 3:03:39 GMT -5
Post by Grawn on Aug 19, 2010 3:03:39 GMT -5
((Jackies back, clear the way, Grawns going Sampson))
The Jedi guarding the Chancellor were very quick in getting away, The security detail that got between him and the path towards them delayed him for several minutes. His blades demanded blood, but he decided to save combat for his lightsaber wielding foes, not the cannon fodder. His body coursed with adrenaline as he deflected a blaster bolt back at its owner as he darted down a corridor, his blades acting like a shield against any bolts that felt aimed enough to hit a part of his body.
Once again the Force was infusing his limbs with strength, going down a hallway so fast that he needed to jump off the wall as he approached a bend, continuing through the ground level corridors. The hunter's senses were on overdrive as he quickly gathered they were heading for a hanger that would most likely house a vehicle to escape with. The Sith growled as he pushed his limbs harder and turned one more corridor, listening to the pounding boots of the guards wishing to stop him a bend in the hall behind him. At this point, they were to much to handle for a single being, the blaster fire would be tremendous and wouldn't allow him time to use the Force to attack.
No, he needed to get to the hanger. A plan was already formulating in his mind as he read a sign once more that indicated one more bend would take him to the hanger. He could sense the fear and alertness like humidity in the air, tinged uncertainty. Grawn tore off his cloak and threw it off, no longer requiring its concealing elements. A tiny nudge of the Force made sure it would say in the air long enough to give him a moments halt of the guards progressions as it flew down the hall behind him. That moment was quickly spent as blaster bolts starting going once again as the guards turned the bend, brushing the distraction aside easily.
The entrance to the hanger was close and Grawn burst through it, his eyes going to the small group comprising of the Chancellor and the Jedi guards approaching a speeder.
"Damn!" he hissed in anger, only to be surprised to see Zarene appear on a bike of her own, firing a missile. He held a moment of satisfaction as the rocket made the escape bike a burning husk of uselessness, Zarene taking battle positions as he turned around. The entrance needed to be closed off and the large starship parts crates stacked in the corner were the first thing he grabbed with the Force. They had to way half a ton each as he drug them over to door and pressed them against it, one wedging straight into the doorway.
The guards were stopped for now and Grawn drew the lightsabers he had clipped to his belt prior to sealing off the door, turning to face the task at hand. Zarene was beginning to fire on the only Jedi in question which left Grawn's eyes to shift over to the Chancellor.
Unprotected.
Thats when something pulsed with the man known as Grawn Ianie. A entity that existed within him that often visited in the form of a black hound with deadly red eyes and a maw of dagger teeth. A being that guided him his entire life without him knowing, a complete figment of Grawn's insanity. A creature that didn't exist, but held much power over the man. This was the gift of his madness, a madness that surfaced as a completely different person.
Never before had it exposed itself in such a extreme manner as it had now. It gave power when it was needed passively, without Grawn knowing. But it knew how important the death of that woman was. And it took no chance in screw ups now, thus was the reason for what was about to transpire.
"My turn" a dark voice whispered in his mind loudly, making the man hit the floor with his knees as all power was drained from his limbs. Before Grawn could question what was happening, he was gone, taken to a place of safe keeping in his mind. Like liquid, the entity expanded, filling the shell left behind till it consumed him entirely. The shell surged with power as the creature opened the closed eyes of its master. Yellow eyes became flickered with red and orange around the pupils and it bared its teeth in a grin of glee. It was nice to experience existence outside the shape of a dog, to actually have hands which to rend and tear, to mutilate and violate.
It stood up, dark tendrils of its power going to the floor and gripping his sabers, putting them in its grasp. Gripping the leather wrapped around the lightsabers, it looked down to them with a small smile of affection. If anything shared its lust for blood and violence, it was these inanimate objects that dealt them both with such effectiveness and grace it nearly brought a tear to its eyes. But now was now the time for such thoughts as it looked up and examined its target.
It cared not for the lightsaber styles of its Master, preferring Ataru and Juyo, single blade combat over dual wielding. Yes, Grawn and it were very different beings, forced to share one body. Now was its chance to let loose its frustration of being contained within one so weak. Clipping one lightsaber to its belt, the creature known as Sampson stretched its limbs and called upon the dark side. As always, the power came and it energized him as he ran towards the woman thats death would shake the very foundation of the Republic. Igniting the blade, it held it down and behind it, the red plasma digging into the steel floor from time to time as the hunter went in for its target.
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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
Master
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Aug 28, 2010 22:32:17 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 28, 2010 22:32:17 GMT -5
Adara watched her adversary through a pair of icy blue eyes as he went through his Makashi salute. For all her stoicism, all of her disdain for the petty emotions of her 'brethren', and every last iota her self perceived nobility, the woman reveled in fighting. The rush, the pleasure of two beings locked in mortal combat was undeniable. It was one of the few things in her life to bring a slight smile to her face. She barely batted a lash as the bleachers beside her had been set ablaze by the sith trooper's incendiary bombs.
A fiery passion lit within her eyes as twirled her staff lazily around before her face. "Not their salvation," her voice bore an edge that could cut steel, "everyone else's." Gooseflesh prickled at her arms and her hackles stood on end, all because her senses warned her of an incoming danger. The marauder became a blur of blue silk and tan flesh, deftly avoiding the wave of energy only to find her sixth sense roaring of another danger.
Her eyes met with Locke's, the next logical threat, and saw that he had his blaster leveled on her chest. Time seemed to slow to a stop when the bolt discharged, and screamed towards her blue silk clad chest. It arched and contorted out of the way, but it wasn't enough to fully evade the plasma. The brilliant red stream passed just below her breast, grazing the skin and ribs enough to send a roar of hot pain throughout her mind. But there was another danger, and she didn't have the time to bellow and have her vengeance.
Those blue eyes flicked up to see the line of a... whip? Yes, a whip... flying towards her at the bidding of a boy who was flipping through the air. It was too soon for her to effectively dodge, so the woman simply lifted one end of her staff up so the line would wrap around its end. Her other hand was wrapped around the center of her staff, and it forced the end that was wrapped down to the ground as the boy fell towards her. He was straightening himself out by now, and calling the whips back into his sleeve. This boy looked to be the same one she flung but a few minutes prior. "Foolish child," she mused with a smile as she felt her arm prickle with energy. Ten thousand needles stabbed at her forearm and her hand before she allowed that energy to discharge. It followed the only path it could: through the staff.
A cold steel core was encased by rubber to ensure a directed path, and that core was attached to yet another piece of steel at the center of the staff. Archs of lightning burst from the end of the staff, and danced about the space between the two beings in a sort of terrifying elegance. Adara's other hand shot forward and shrouded her power along the boy as he fell towards her, and once again allowed him to hang there for a brief moment. She kept her lightning dancing, whether he blocked it or no. Her voice dripped of condescension, and the wide smile on her face should have told him just what she was about to do. "How many failures will it take before you realize your folly? Stop playing at war."
At her will, yet again, she used her power to rip him from his position and towards a far away point in the battle. This time she willed him in more of an arch, and across the width of the stadium, so her will would cast him farther through the crisp night sky. Once that was done, she rolled her shoulders and cast a glance back at the insufferable Jedi, "shall we? Or must I suffer more of you jedi fools? I would like to know now, if its at all possible."
Adara smirked as she stalked back and forth, like a predatory feline, always twirling her staff in lazy yet graceful arches around the flank closest to Locke. She didn't seem to care that an inferno had built itself up at her side, and actually found the heat pleasurable. "And Jedi," she paused, still twirling that bo staff between her fingers.
Gravity pulled her rust colored staff out of her hands, its clangor mute to the cacophony of terrified screams and wails. "You've awoken the dragon"
Her now free hand slid below her breast, and the slit of wounded skin. Pain once again roared through her mind, and she allowed herself to cry out before launching her hands toward Locke. Indeed, most Jedi drew their strength from anger or hatred or fear. Adara was above such pitiful emotions. She drew her power from pain, and used it to fuel her martial prowess and her destructive abilities. Like a true marauder would.
Tight fingers grasped the air between the beings, and wrenched it out as if something of great weight broke free. A spray of flame splashed from the inferno, and she wrenched a wall of flame from its dancing form. The wall stayed alive just long enough to spray out at the Jedi, hopefully stunning him, so that her real attack could strike him.
Adara's staff slapped against the flesh of her palm before she activated its blade with the Force, and charged him as fast as her Force Augmented legs could carry her. Once she was within reach of her saber spear, she swung it towards Locke in a fierce diagonal arch.
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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
Master
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Aug 29, 2010 22:55:13 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Aug 29, 2010 22:55:13 GMT -5
Old news.
It was old news. Old news that Naaden's security force had felled more Sith, striking them down as they came, emerged like zombie corpses from the crowd of fear. While they were wild, passionate, uncontrolled, her men and women were controlled, determined, unified. Old news.
It was old news that a second man had fallen. Old news that Naaden had hit three Sith with her blaster, letting her detail finish them off. Old news. Old news the way the Force flew around so casually behind her, framed in glances back. Hoverpods crashing into the ground, Jedi flying through the air... Old news. The screaming and the running, and the cries for mercy made Naaden sick, but they were old news.
What was new news? New was the explosion, the bomb that had gone off behind her, unseen but wholly felt. The air pushed past Naaden, ruffling her cloak, but more so, the wave moved through her, catching her navel and tugging it painfully. Dread and nausea. New were also the flashes behind her, the animal, wild wailing that Naaden knew came from a person, people, that she knew was death.
New news were the fires that sprung up around the edges of the stadium, dancing in orange, bright and demanding attention from even this distance.
But then the new news became old news.
Old news like the grey, point-eared Jedi that had joined Naaden's halo of protection. Old news like the exit, close now.
As Naaden drew towards the arch, less than five yards away now, time lurched again and fled from her perception.
She saw the hangar beyond, which was nothing more than a wide, asphalt plain on which to park the speeders, open to the sky.
Naaden noticed only one thing as she paused there, swept and stopped by the men and women around her.
She noticed the stars. The sky was perfectly black, dark, so dark. Not as dark as in deep space... but like ink. And the stars were tossed upon the ink like sand, soaking it up and blotting it. So many stars, with so many planets... people that needed her. Needed her to survive. But in that moment, Naaden saw only the stars. Only wishes.
Only her eighth birthday.
What did you wish for?
I wished all the people would stop fighting, Daddy. All the people everywhere, I wish they'd stop for good.
I wish.
A flash of red, a blinding light, a growl of movement. Speeder, rocket. Another rocket, this from her own men, collision above the parked speeder, shrapnel, the movement from behind, a man growing closer, evil in his eyes. Bits, pieces, snatches, processed all at once in an ever-confusing order.
Threats from both directions. Naaden felt her security detail tighten, knew more than saw the way their shoulders tightened. They drew in close, defensively. They were no match for the Force users that came. But if you were to tell that that, they sure as hell wouldn't believe you.
So far, they had come only along the plain that comprised the center of the stadium -- the exit through which Naaden had almost slipped was a tunnel underneath the stadium seats that towered above.
Her attention was suddenly caught by the head of the guard. "Anything airborne is too risky," he said, voice raised to stay above the chaos. "We're taking you underground -- there's a network open to only high-clearance. They won't be evacuating anyone else there, and I'd like those Jedi try to get through re-entry rated durasteel re-enforced permacrete."
Sudden red flashes illuminated the circle of bodies, accompanied by the scream of dying plasma as a volley of blaster bolts -- from the woman at the exit -- was deflected by the guards' riot shields.
"The stairs leading down are in the exit tunnel," he continued. "Not much farther."
Victoria nodded, then turned her attention to the attackers for a moment, peering between her guards. All those who had riot shields now wielded them forward and active, a tight ring of defense. But she was still vulnerable to attack from above, and Victoria glanced at the weak spot.
She saw the stars again. Poetic as they were, Naaden was starting to wish they represented an entire Republic Armada, not distant, vague balls of burning gas, whose planets' inhabitants, for all their good will and intentions, were doing absolutely nothing to help solve the situation right now.
She heard the head guard trying to flag the Jedi, let them know that they needed to hold off the attackers long enough for Naaden to reach the underground tunnel.
The wind shifted, and an acrid smell filled Naaden's lungs. Burning, so many different sorts of things burning... The smoke brought fear to her heart like cancer. She kept it at bay, prevented it from overpowering conscientious decision, but still, it was there.
She was resigned to her fate. She was determined to have no qualms in dying for her Republic, yes. But that did not change the fact that Naaden was a human being.
And it did not change the fact that she was scared.
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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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Sept 1, 2010 22:31:17 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Sept 1, 2010 22:31:17 GMT -5
The second his whip made contact with Adara's staff, Jazen knew things we about to go very wrong. His first clue was by the fact that she didn't even flinch as his whip tangled itself around the end of her staff; which was what he didn't want to happen. And before he could try and pull the whip back, Adara slammed that side of her staff into the ground, effectively locking it in place. Not that he would have been able to retract it anyway; he must have overlooked something when creating the device meant to recoil the whip in his sleeve, for when he tried to activate it, all he got was a little groan. His other whip he had managed to snap back a little, but seeing his situation, he simply cut the whip free, cutting through a little of his robe in the process.
He was about to cut the other one free when he saw a familiar spark of energy from Adara. Or rather, from her staff. For a moment, Jazen's mind wandered back to Umgul, to that horrific torture he had suffered at the hands of the Dark Jedi who had taken them hostage. One of their methods of torture, which was probably the worst thing they had done to him; was through sessions of Force Lightning. It had burned every fiber of his being, putting his entire body into a world of pain he didn't think possible. By the time they reached the third session of it, Jazen's body had learned to pick up the sound of the energy sparking right before it burst forth.
And though he was so far away, he could see that little spark and sense its click in the Force. And he reacted purely on instinct in response. His saber whipped out, cutting through his other whip before coming to rest in front of him as the lightning shot out. Like a lightning rod calling the surge of electricity to it, his saber took the majority of her attack, with small licks of its power sliding past to lap at his form, sending both pain and a tingling sensation through the parts of his body they meet. The intensity of her attack actually made him defy gravity, for instead of falling down he was now being pushed up a little.
And then he simply stopped. He kept his saber in front of him, twisting it now and then to keep larger surges of the lightning from reaching him; but he didn't fall down or fly back. He just hung there. Through the onslaught unleashed on him, Jazen eyed Adara. And he saw that her free hand was aimed at him in a grip posture. She was holding him afloat with the Force. And through the sound of electricity zapping through the air, he heard her voice and the mocking tone that came with it.
"As many times as it takes till I finally get in that lucky hit."
He didn't get much time to say anything else, for he saw her give a small little grin. Floating there, completely helpless for the most part to whatever she did, Jazen's mind suddenly remembered what had happened when he had first rushed into battle. Someone had plucked him from the air and flung him back to where he had come from. Could she be? He didn't get time to finish that thought as she finished it for him, swinging her arm away from her and with it, him.
Again, his body acted on instinct. He may have removed the whips on his arms, but the ones tangled around his legs were still there. And while they weren't much good in combat, they had another purpose that made them useful. As the air started to move faster around him, Jazen swung his one leg back then forward with a snap kick, stopping it where it had started. The whip shot out like a missile straight down and with a nudge of the Force to guide it, Jazen pushed it towards a hand rail in front of the seats below him. Another nudge with the Force clicked open the claws, which locked tight as soon as they made contact with the railing.
Or so he thought. The claws snapped clear the second force was applied to them and Jazen flew through the air like a leaf in the wind. A very heavy, cursing leaf. Below him, chaos and disorder raged about, though he didn't have any time to really take the sights in. Only one sight mattered to him right now and that was the sight of where he was going to end up. Some form of god or the Force must have been with him at that moment, for it wasn't as far away as he thought it would be. The claws must have slowed him, if only a little. Or perhaps there had been another reason. It didn't matter at the moment; the landing did.
It still wasn't going to be a nice landing. He hadn't managed to reach the other stands, so his landing was going to be on the ground below him. Combining the strongest Force Push he could muster with a roll on impact, Jazen managed to kill at least two thirds of the damage he would have taken had he not braced his landing. Still, his leg now cried for rest he knew he could not give. The pain he felt was bad, but still no where near as bad as the constant torture on Umgul had been. That allowed him to resist it for the most part and focus on what had to be done.
Twirling his saber in his hand, Jazen spun and raced back the way he had come from. It was a fair distance from where he had been before, but the field was empty now expect for some smaller fights going on near the stands. He had almost a clear shot back to the location where Locke and Adara were fighting. Biting back the constant pain from his leg, Jazen used a combination of Force Speed and Force-assisted jumps to to cover that distance as fast he could. He made it just in time to see a wall of flame suddenly surge towards Locke, with its master quick in its wake. As he came upon the field of this battle again, Jazen sent his Master a quick message in the Force before bringing his blade up and using the Force to augment his speed to cover the remaining distance in an instant. He swung his saber down from the upper left to his lower right, making sure to make it a short swing in case she countered so that he wasn't leaving himself open after.
"I"m right on her back Master. Try and keep her focus on you. We'll take her down with teamwork."
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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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Sept 2, 2010 12:27:49 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Sept 2, 2010 12:27:49 GMT -5
The blast of the Force missed.
The woman was fast; fast enough to be able to turn quickly to the side as the push screamed toward her, continuing on like a train gone off the rails. It was a minor annoyance for Locke, but it wasn't anything to start pulling his hair out over.
The next thing made up for it, anyway.
His pistol fired, spitting out a blast of burning plasma that went screaming through the air at Adara. She saw it. Locke saw that brief flash of recognition on her face when the realization that she was still in danger dawned on her. She started moving out of the way. Locke's jaw tightened and he prepared to squeeze the trigger again, and again if needed; he'd send a volley at her, try to catch her while she was off guard.
Adara's efforts, however, proved to be in vain. Well, maybe not completely in vain. The shot hit. It was a grazing blow, but Locke could see pain writhe across the woman's face. Maybe with some planning I can get a proper hit in on her.
But before he could start thinking of any such thing, the Force whispered to him as a familiar presence drew near. It apparently whispered to Adara as well, because they both looked in the same direction to see Jazen falling from the sky, with... whips, of all things.
Perhaps it wasn't the most suitable thought, given the situation, but Locke, being himself, couldn't stop the first thing that came to mind.
Wait, he talks about my pistols, derides them as inefficient, and then he pulls out those? Really? The irony would provide some great amusement at some point in the future, no doubt.
Of course, the second thing that came to mind was a bit more fitting. Wait, where did he get those, anyway? Last Locke knew, Jazen did not own a set of whips. Couple that with the pistol that Jazen got from... somewhere, and Locke had the growing suspicion that his student was not telling him things. They'd have a talk into where Jazen was acquiring all of these items once they got out of this mess.
If they got out of this mess.
Jazen made his attack at Adara, lashing out with the whips, it was foolish. She caught them on her staff, slammed it down to keep them from being able to recoil back to him and proceeded to punish him with a volley of lightning. The boy was able to catch some of it on his saber, but tongues of electricity still were able to make their way around it and onto his flesh.
No! Locke swallowed and brought the Force into himself as he started running toward Adara. He had to help Jazen; he couldn't just leave him there, hanging in the air while the woman tried to make him a battery. Before he could do anything, though, she hurled him skyward again, off through the air.
Jazen tried to stop himself by kicking a whip out of his pants, but (fortunately for him and his leg) that failed, and he went onward, sailing through the air over the chaos that filled the stadium. Locke stopped dead in his tracks and reached out through the Force, grabbing at Jazen to slow his flight and ease him more gently to the ground.
When that was done, he looked back to his foe, who was stalking dangerously around him, like lion around its prey. Locke met her eyes flatly, never breaking her gaze and allowing himself to focus on her, rather than the screams and chaos and death that surrounded them. He was not unaware of the situation, but rather, he did not let himself be bothered by it; he could not let himself be bothered by it, or he'd pay for it against a foe such as her. The screams simply faded into the background noise. The ripples of the Force passed through him, unnoticed.
He was, however, distinctly aware of the fire that was suddenly burning near him. That hadn't been there a few moments ago.
"Shall we? Or must I suffer more of you Jedi fools? I would like to know now, if it's at all possible."
Locke only smirked. "But I'd hate to ruin the suspense for you, m'dear. Why don't we just wait and find out?"
"And Jedi."
Locke quirked an eyebrow at her as he tensed, readying himself for whatever she was about to do. She roared, and then let her staff go from her grip before her hands shot out at him. Locke could feel the Force shift around them and he moved, holstering his pistol to bring that free hand up to make a counterattack.
"You've awoken the dragon."
But she did something he wasn't expecting.
Rather than attack him directly, she swept her will through the inferno that was burning near them, sending a wall of flame towards him. "What the hell?!" His eyes went wide as he jumped back, desperately throwing out his arm in front of him and letting a mighty push loose. The fire turned in on itself in the center but the outer continued to rush forward, zeroing in on him.
Dammit dammit dammit. Locke did the only other thing he could think of and started to build a shield of the Force. However, time was against him; the fire was too close and moving to quickly. The partially-built shield protected him from the worst of the blaze, but he felt flames like around the edges and at his coat. He winced at the rush of heat against his exposed skin as the flame roared past.
That was close, he thought when it was done. But I'm alri- The Force screamed at him.
He looked to see Adara rushing in at him, faster than any human had any right to move. The saber at the end of her staff was alive again. "Well, damn."
Locke dived into a roll that took him to the side, but even as he escaped any chance of a killing blow, he felt a lightsaber graze the side of his thigh. It hurt, and he winced, but he couldn't pay much attention to it. Instead, he called on the Force again as he came into a crouch out of the roll and reached out toward Adara, sweeping his arm around in a motion that, if his hold was successful, would pull her forward along the way she was already running and then throw her hard to the side, into the bleachers near them.
"I"m right on her back Master. Try and keep her focus on you. We'll take her down with teamwork."
Locke snickered, though it turned into another wince when he flet pain shoot through his leg again. "I'll see what I can do. Be careful, though. This woman is stronger than anyone we've faced before."
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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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Sept 2, 2010 19:30:14 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Sept 2, 2010 19:30:14 GMT -5
After firing the rocket, Zarene had landed quickly on her feet, launching a volley of deadly red blaster bolts towards the chancellor, only for another Jedi, a human male this time, to appear and intercept her attack. Kriffin'-A... One of the Sith above must've gotten distracted, and let the Jedi out of his sight. She gritted her teeth. When you want something done...
She recognized the Jedi as using the Ataru form for blocking her shots. He must have been either extremely confident, or a fool. It was probably the latter. The blasters she had taken on this mission were a pair of heavy SoroSuubs, made for power and rate of fire over other considerations such as ammo efficiency. She had been given them a number of years ago in a mission where she had been expected to go up against mandalorian mercenaries, and the weapons had proved to able to do quite a number on the bucketheads' armor. As for the Jedi, if he didn't put some strength behind each block, he'd quickly find his saber flying out of his hand. She had a full bandolier of blaster packs draped across her shoulder. In a contest to see whether his energy or her ammo reserves would run out first, especially with him using that ridiculous form, she would not lose.
But she didn't have time to play this game.
With a sweeping motion with her hand, the smoke from burning speeders swept across the room, shrouding the area between the two of them. Firing three quick shots in his direction to keep him on his feet, she took off at a sprint, and then using her forward momentum to push off the ground, launching into a high leap over the smoke. His mistake had been assuming that his appearance on the scene would cause her to break off her attack on the chancellor to eliminate him first. By the time he turned around he would be too far behind to catch up. Perhaps he'd find his way back to Ianie.
The Chancellor was beating a hasty retreat, leaving behind security forces to slow her down. Three of them were in the next group before her. The first blocked her next volley with his riot shield, the impact causing him to stumble backwards and out of her immediate path. Lucky for him. He would live.
The other two tried to close the gap, digging in their heels and forming a barrier in front of her. Zarene suddenly dropped, sliding across the ground on her back, between their legs, under their shields. A shot in the back for each of them, she didn't even have to look back. These Jedi and guards, they had faced lightsaber-wielding dark jedi before, as well as blaster-toting thugs and bounty hunters. They had never fought anyone like her before.
She came to a flight of descending stairs. So this was where the Chancellor was going. Not taking to the air or attempting to escape to the city, it seemed that the Republic had taken more precautions than she had initially expected. That wasn't going to save them though. Run, Chancellor. Dive underground while your city burns.
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last online Nov 27, 2015 16:20:28 GMT -5
Youngling
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Sept 11, 2010 8:36:30 GMT -5
Post by kagemusha on Sept 11, 2010 8:36:30 GMT -5
((Bear with me, I need to go through an awful lot of general catching up before I get to anything that’ll progress the roleplay much.))
The anticipation of the crowd built steadily as the moments passed by, the stadium filled with the incessant drone of hushed conversations between the waiting republic citizens. Down on the field the noise was greatest: the chatter of the crowd there magnified by that of those in the stands and all of it reverberated and enhanced by the bowl of the stadium. Then near silence descended suddenly on the gathered masses as though someone had found the mute button and pressed it in a bid to save themselves from the insanity that often followed prolonged exposure to such white noise as the buzzing of the crowd generated. All eyes were turned now towards the podium as the Chancellor made her appearance, as dignified and serene as any Jedi Master at that moment in time. Her self-assured stride and majestic bearing an inspiration to the crowd and even to Ta’lin, who felt uncomfortable and on-edge in such a crowded place. That is what natural leadership is, the young Jedi Knight mused, the ability to create strength and confidence in others just by your very presence. Few embodied such a quality to the extent that Naaden did.
Unfortunately, though, she was now dangerously exposed to any fool with a blaster and had taken to the podium with her Jedi still scattered amongst the crowd. For some that was the best way for the team to defend the chancellor, but Ta’lin was not convinced. He had intended to join the party on the chancellor’s dais, reinforcing the symbolic importance of the chancellor with the symbol of peace and protection which the Jedi represented. However, here he was, still a part of the crowd now looking up at the chancellor as she began her address to Druckenwell "I come to you in a time of war..."
Hardly had the words left Naaden's mouth than the static buzz of a failed loud-speaker replaced the bold rhetoric of the Rebublic's latest leader. This electrical hissing was soon followed by a louder bang as the machinery suffered a small explosion of sparks, but it was an irrelevance to Ta'lin who's senses were already being trained on the crowd around him, searching for the source of imminent danger that Kellick, the only Jedi Master on the mission, had detected and relayed through the pseudo-telepathy that existed between all beings that could feel the force strongly. Between those that shared bonds forged through long years of co-operation or those particularly strong in the force it could manifest as a true exchange of thoughts, but at it's most basic level it came across as feeling: some emotional response that felt alien, but no less strong for that. In this case the simplicity of the message and the urgency with which its transmitter had sent it resulted in a single word flashing immediately into Ta'lin's mind and immediately he was prepared for another attack on the embodiment of the Republic and its people's will to defeat the encroaching evil of the Sith Empire.
He could feel that darkness - no, it was more an emptiness - growing within the stadium now. The source of it he could not discern but he could feel it expanding as the crowd began to panic. It was feeding on their most primal of emotions, it was drawing their fear to become stronger. This yet unseen and unidentifiable menace was growing by the minute, but surely it could not hide itself forever and Ta'lin kept his blade hidden, just as he was physically concealed by the crowd around him. Suddenly there a flash of yellow as Jedi Ryke ignited his lightsaber on the podium, only adding to the panic of the crowd. The destruction of the sound equipment was now confirmed by the ring of a distant gunshot and the presence of an armed Jedi on-stage. It was such a fallacy that the presence of a Jedi calmed and reassured people, for Jedi rarely "drew swords" except when there was an imminent threat to deal with and even then, some preferred to use the force rather than their symbolic weapons to deal with some situations. When those weapons of humming, arcing death were drawn then the dung was usually about to hit the proverbial fan. Then the padawan Mordin tried to join Ryke and Kellick at the chancellors side and Ta'lin watched as he suddenly changed trajectory mid-flight and was sent barrelling into the crowd. Now things were really beginning to heat up: the sniper, whoever they were, wasn't the only adversary to be faced today. Ta'lin's heart began to increase its pace as the panic of the crowd and the certainty of a dark-jedi's presence nearby added to his existing anxiety, but he controlled it as a Jedi should, fighting the urge to go for his lightsaber until he could assess the true scope of the threat that lurked in the shadows still. Even as a fight between a satin-clad assailant and one of his Jedi allies broke out on and off the stage, he allowed himself to be shunted by the crowd as people collectively bolted for the exits. He watched; he observed; he calculated: he did what a Jedi sentinel was trained to do and that was to find the critical point in any crisis and strike at that point, rather than dash in, lightsaber ablaze.
More Sith were beginning to pop up now and suddenly it wasn't a disturbance in the force that Ta'lin felt but the crushing weight of the darkside rippling through the stadium. They were few in number, but their power was undeniable and even as they closed in on the Chancellor, their supporters amongst the general morass made themselves known to the Jedi by opening fire on the helpless crowd. Brilliant, even Republic security forces had been infiltrated by Sith operatives or worse still... some of the previously loyal republic forces had been turned by the enemy. Now it was time for the Jedi to reveal himself and join in the struggle. He couldn't stand idly by whilst civilians were slaughtered attending an event that was supposed to stabilize the morale of the republic and renew it’s fighting vigour: the inhumanity of it aside, the republic could ill afford the morale affect of the mounting death-toll. So with a jerk of his right arm, Ta’lin’s lightsaber slid down into the palm of his hand and erupted into a deadly shaft of green light at his side.
“Move! Out of the way!” he yelled above the clamour of the fleeing crowd, unheard but understood by those who saw him. There were few who didn’t stand aside when a man with a lightsaber began to take purposeful strides towards them and those who didn’t were roughly shoved aside because Ta’lin Aijati had more important considerations now than politeness.
---
Blaster bolts rained down pell-mell on the crowd now as the Sith soldiers began to co-ordinate their efforts and drive towards the centre of the stadium, supported from the stands by a hail of covering fire. Those who pursued on the ground floor were still covered by the fleeing crowd, but as those in the stands began to pick out the figure of a lone Jedi by the green glow of his lightsaber, Ta’lin found his skills of deflection called into action time and time again. He was no master of the art, but he was competent enough to redirect the majority of bolts back in the general direction they’d come from and simply avoided the others. However, his task was to become more difficult.
“Master Jedi! Leave the soldiers to us. Get the chancellor out, it’s all that matters.” called one of the security detail still loyal to the republic as he caught up with Ta’lin. “We can handle this scum, but the chancellor is in danger.” agreed one member of the accompanying squad and then unloaded a barrage of blaster fire at one of the enemy soldiers in the stands nearby.
Ta’lin nodded and was about to dash off to catch up with the chancellor and whatever protection might be left at her side when he spotted a more pressing problem: the stricken hover-pod that had just been sent tumbling through the crowd like some morbid skipping-stone on a sea of civilians. The screams were terrible as the craft ploughed through the panicked mass of humanity and for a moment it seemed as though the chancellor could wait. Deactivating his lightsaber momentarily, the young Jedi dashed forward and with his hands outstretched in-front of him, focused his power on the tumbling hulk of durasteel and tried to stop it in its tracks. He felt the shudder as the hover-pod collided with the field of force energy that he projected towards it and gritted his teeth as he felt it break through his invisible barrier. He had only succeeded in slowing its momentum and it would not stop before it made it’s next deadly crash into the ground.
“No!” he growled in desperation.
Again he pitted his will and his strength in the force against the tumbling hover-pod, but this time there was a sickening crunch and it hurtled off in another direction, rather than through the heart of the crowd. Ta’lin’s eyes, previously screwed shut with the effort of stopping the crashing machine, now opened and he stood panting for a few moments. If the pod had been any bigger he would have been entirely powerless against it’s onslaught.
“Are you ok, sir?” he heard one of the security detail call. “Fine! Hold off the Sith trash until reinforcements...” he began, but was cut off by a deafening roar.
He turned now to see the podium erupt into a macabre shower of masonry, steel and bodies, driven by the course dark energy of yet another Sith. Ta’lin though distant from it, still felt as though he’d been hit hard in the chest by someone far larger than he. Whoever had done that must be a full Sith Lord and too much for him.
“The Chancellor! Go!” one of the soldiers pleaded as he got to his feat again.
---
The corridors of the stadium were now ringing with muffled blaster fire and the distant shouts of civilians and soldiers as Ta’lin charged headlong through the bowels of the stadium. Assisted by the force, his muscular legs hammered the floor in an unrelenting sprint through the confines of the indoors section of the arena in a desperate search for the Chancellor. He couldn’t even tell the direction in which he should be going until an explosion rocked the building, sending a shower of plaster from the walls and ceiling. When in doubt, follow the explosions and you’d be sure to find the thickest fighting. Given the circumstances that would be the same as finding the chancellor, was that dismal truth in Ta’lin’s mind, but he had to press on. He had to find Naaden before she was gunned down, cut up or blown to pieces by this raiding party of the Sith. He soon arrived in the smoke-filled hangar...
((I’ll let someone else take the lead on this situation now.))
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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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Sept 23, 2010 2:24:39 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Sept 23, 2010 2:24:39 GMT -5
There are aspects within the dark side for those who have truly let themselves be carried away in its currents deep into the blackest shadows of the abyss where the light is not even a flicker that utterly dastardly things maybe accomplished. It is within these realms within the dark where men and women descend from simple corrupted individuals into monsters, demons, and dragons. Twisted reflections of the darkest shadows that lay within the hearts of all mankind, that they hide, that they fear, that they conceal from the eyes of others. But the darkness of the abyss gave the shadows within these individuals' hearts enough strength to consume them entirely, and all that remains is the shell -- the husk of the figure of what they once were and what now lays beneath the skin is someone -- something else entirely.
Naturally with such figures there power is something other, something twisted -- an expression of what they have become. Monstrous in nature and strength. Unnatural and beyond the accepted. It can be a spine-chilling and bloodcurdling experience to even witness what such abominations as these avatars of the dark side can do. Regardless of how much a Jedi may ward themselves against it, sometimes fear is the only appropriate response.
As the numerous bolts of lightning fanning out from Acalya's fingertips cut through the crowds in front of her to enable her to cut path further into the screaming masses of fear and dispair, she casually walked further into the immense number of citizens. With one last vicious burst the horde of people directly before Acalya fell to their deaths as the tremendous power behind the lightning sent them crashing into those behind them creating a domino effect amongst the crowds surrounding Acalya's position.
Most tried to flee from the dark sorceress seeing the power she was unleashing, but with no where to go, all that was created was more trampling of their follows, and crushing themselves against the corpses and terrified bodies of their peers who are also trying to flee. With both hands casually held out to her sides Acalya begun to focus her mind and perceptions as she turned her hands palm up. She let herself be drawn in and feel the wave of hopelessness and desolation of the people as they feared for their lives as only a massacre was being committed at the only place they had left to run -- a narrow passage where only Sith guns and blasters and civilian corpses of their fellows lay to greet them.
All life is kinetic, it has a rhythm, and it all resounds with one another both physically and metaphysically -- all is connected to the Force. Energy creates this rhythm as its motion travels in currents from one being to the next as through the Force all life is connected by these currents of flowing energy generating motion. Jedi can use this flow on not just a physical level to enhance others, but on a metaphysical level to empower them. All can be felt through the Force, and thus making the more dastardly and disturbing also possible. The dark side's abominations are capable of such things, and Acalya was not simply allowing herself to be swept up within the currents of the mass' anguish.
Emotion -- feeling -- it is all apart of life, to feel is to be alive, and as all things can be felt through the Force it can be drawed upon from others or oneself to turn empowering emotions into physical strength and speed, even prowess and ability. It is a manipulation of sorts, and thus as with anything... the polar is also true, too.
People are kinetic with one another, whether they realize it or not, every action causes another wave of action, like ripples running through a still pond. The waves are small but still felt in some way, and it all has its rhythm whether they feel it or not, there is always a rhythm to which all life strides to. The beats of these rhythms create fractures, and like the expanding ripples from a splash in a still pond they expand outward touching upon all manner of things, some realized, many unknown -- all life is connected.
Acalya was not merely letting herself being swept up in the tide of fear, she was feeling out the kinetic rhythm of the mass' desolation. Feeling out for its rthymic beats, feeling out the cracks of the fracture created by each beat of the pulsing fear of the people as they moved together in their resonating despair. It was in that very moment as she felt the pounding beat of the mass' terror... she fed upon it.
Drawing in all of their fear she could, all of their helplessness, hopelessness, torment, affliction, pain, torture... their suffering... all of it into herself. Brilliant crimson bolts that appeared similar to lightning burst from Acalya as the bolts crawled and sprawled out across so many of the masses within the stadium, and like the ebb and flow of the tides it was all drawn back into her as quickly as it had been released. Gracefully and casually she stepped over the bodies of the fallen as she continued tap into and feed upon each rhythmic beat of the mass' fear she felt within the stadium. But each time those crimson hued bolts receded back into Acalya everything went terribly silent where those people surrounding the dark sorceress fell. A silence few if any have ever had the displeasure of hearing. It felt emptier than death as half the great mass of people trapped within that stadium around where Acalya stood suddenly fell lifeless to the stadium floor. Where once many surrounded Acalya were now just lifeless bodies spanning for numerous meters all around her as she strode. Each beat, each death... only silence. And only more disturbing is how efficiently it could be done by one with enough knowledge and power in such things.
A hush washed over the stadium after having witnessed such a thing. It would be a difficult thing for anyone to know how to react to seeing so many fall at once. It was as if a great swath of those trapped within the stadium had simply been utterly removed entirely; and in a way... that is what happened... but in a far more sinister and depraved fashion than they could ever hope to understand. Even those who were not Force-sensitive could feel these people were more than simply dead, they were more hollow than dead.
It was not simply their lives Acalya fed upon, it was the Force within them, the current that travelled through them; and thus all that remained was simply a hollowed out body with nothing remaining in it... just a void. It is that which those sensitive to such things through the Force felt upon this atrocious act of genocide Acalya had committed. So many innocent lives crying out in pain only to be silenced in an instant, and the lingering silence they left behind held no rhythm, no beat, no resounding echo... just a disquieting, unearthly silence -- utter stillness.
And Acalya smiled.
The dragon has had her fill with the people of the knights' kingdom, and it was time for her to depart she felt, "This is what it means for a Jedi only to wish to fight an opponent, rather than fight for a people. Goodbye, Master Jedi."
Utilizing her telekinetics to re-enforce her leap, she launched herself into the air with a great leap in the direction of what she had sensed long ago one of her Sith "allies" is doing battle. As she came down for her landing she unclipped her shoto and flung it directly at the Jedi Knight her "ally" had been fighting. The bright red beamed shoto spun through the air like a buzz-saw right for the knight. Though, upon landing and seeing the results of her half-hearted attack, she smirked slightly, and uttered to the Jedi Knight as she rested an idle hand upon the pommel of her sheathed vibroblade, "Hm. What meant to be an object of your death has become your troph to remember this night by, Jedi."
Especially after the evil she had committed this eve, the aura of the dark side was thick upon her as it radiated from her very being. Even her words seemed to hold its presence more profoundly than usual. Only a severely unnatural and unholy figure stood before them, an evil that has stepped well beyond a mere corrupted individual.
Her crimson hues turned to her Sith "ally", "I am done here. The Jedi Master rather fight me than fight for her people... So I devoured them. If the others are wise they will leave soon as well. The elimination of the Chancellor is superfluous and redundant at this point. For the cost of her continued existence has been paid for by the deaths of a copious amount of attendees this night. Sacrifices have to be made if life is to be maintained, and many have for the maintenance of hers. The only question remaining is if her life was worth the cost, and how many more sacrifices the Jedi are willing to give to maintain it. For it will not be paid for with their lives... but the lives of the citizens they are sworn to protect.", and with that she made another telekinetically empowered leap launching herself into the stands, and continuing on her way until she eventually was out of sight.
((Edit: Fix'd some typos.))
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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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Sept 23, 2010 19:54:30 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Sept 23, 2010 19:54:30 GMT -5
A tiny smirk played across the woman's features as she watched the brilliant blue blade slide through her enemy's thigh and continue on, searing through the duracrete and whirling about in an arch. She had a mind to continue her circular attack. Locke had completed his roll and tried to pull her forward as well. She allowed him to do as much. The huntress was pulled and thrown to the side, slamming into the metal and duracrete with a dull thump.
That smirk grew as she saw deftly rolled to the side back towards her previous place. Her staff was on the other side of Locke, and his whelp was below her and to the left... more or less where she'd thrown him. Her lips seemed to shift into a frown as she straightened her blue silk raiment and looked up at the sandy haired Jedi, seemingly giving his cur no heed. Nothing could be further from the case. "It seems that you and your churl have gotten me, Jedi. Pray tell, is it true that the Jedi never kill their prisoners? Or is that simply baseless myth? I shudder to think of my fate, should it be the latter."
One of her companions, the enigmatic Sith Lady who did battle with the Jedi Master, unleashed her full power on the crowd. It was enough to even turn the wild woman's gaze, and even slack her jaw ever so slightly. Awe was a rare state for the woman to be in, but it was certainly culled in her at that moment. Silent blue eyes flitted over to Locke, the brain behind them seeming to regain some of their surroundings, when the Dark Lord jumped close to her and hurled her shoto at the man.
When he caught it she seemed unperturbed, and actually offered it as something of a trophy. Curious. Soon after, the dark woman turned to her. "I am done here. The Jedi Master rather fight me than fight for her people... So I devoured them. If the others are wise they will leave soon as well. The elimination of the Chancellor is superfluous and redundant at this point. For the cost of her continued existence has been paid for by the deaths of a copious amount of attendees this night. Sacrifices have to be made if life is to be maintained, and many have for the maintenance of hers. The only question remaining is if her life was worth the cost, and how many more sacrifices the Jedi are willing to give to maintain it. For it will not be paid for with their lives... but the lives of the citizens they are sworn to protect."
A small smirk returned to her lips and she quickly retorted, "cravens all, these Jedi 'knights'." Her icy gaze then moved to the churl and his master, the smirk vanishing. "So Knight, where were we?" The woman feigned indifference before smacking her palm against her forehead and closing her eyes, "ahh yes. I am now without a tooth in the fight against a courageous knight and his rather brilliant and comely padawan.
Tell me, ser," she looked at the junior of the two, "what possessed you to use whips of all things? Perchance you feel pleasure at using them, especially on women? Or your master..." that smirk remained as she flicked her eyes up to Locke, "do you make him call you master, Craven? Or are roles reversed and he the master of the bedchambers?"
In truth, the poisonous woman was hardly trying in both the fields of insult and combat. Even without her staff they hadn't a hope of winning against her, and she knew it. Perhaps she wouldn't even break a sweat...
... at any rate, things were about to get fun.
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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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Sept 27, 2010 22:05:07 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Sept 27, 2010 22:05:07 GMT -5
Jazen winced himself when he saw Adara's lightsaber graze Locke, knowing all too well the pain a lightsaber could cause, even with just a graze. Luckily, Locke wasn't strung up and unable to do something about it like Jazen had been. Strangely, Jazen found himself knowing exactly what his Master was planning in the way of a counter. Perhaps it was from their Master and Padawan connection. Maybe it was something else; either way, Jazen knew what he could do to help. When Locke reached out towards Adara with the Force to pull her forward, Jazen pushed with the Force at her back, aiming to knock her balance out of whack for the one moment Locke's pull would need to get her in its powerful grip.
And it worked perfectly. Adara was taken by Locke's pull and slammed into the metal chairs in the bleachers, one of which was snapped from its perch from the force of the woman colliding with it, her lightsaber cutting off one of its foundations. Jazen's eyes didn't leave the woman, focused on her frame in the event she recovered quickly. Which she did, quickly rolling back to her feet, but finding herself staring down two Jedi; without a weapon at that. Jazen's eyes snapped to the side for a moment to see where that deadly weapon had gone and found it quickly, spying it near Locke. With a twitch of his hand, he tossed the weapon with the Force to the field behind them, hopefully quick enough that she didn't have time to make a grab for it herself. Then he turned his attention back to her, just in time to catch her "apparent" surrender.
Jazen almost gagged on his own tongue. Was she mocking them with this pale attempt to play at their Jedi code? True, they would be honor bound to take her captive instead of killing her, as was the Jedi way. Still...maybe they could remove a hand or two. Jazen was almost enjoying that thought when he realized just what that train of thinking would lead to and he caught himself, slamming that idea down deep into the recess's of his mind. The massive amount of dark side power floating around the stadium must have been getting to him, finding his hidden darkness and giving it strength. He would have to be careful to keep his thoughts on the straight and low. He was about to make a comment about how they wouldn't harm her anymore than needed when he felt what seemed like a flood of the Force behind him. He turned his head a little to look, noting that both Locke and even Adara were locking at the source of that flood.
What Jazen saw made him both shake in fear, yet tremble in awe. The woman who had emitted the greatest presence in the Force, the dark lady that had almost drowned the Jedi in the pure darkness that came from her, had unleashed herself. The people nearest to her died in seconds and Jazen felt their lives, like burning fires, suddenly and abruptly snuffed out. Such a display of power had him both unsure of their chances at winning this thing and yet, it prodded at the dark within him. Such power was achievable.....but only by using the twisted side of him that had been given life on Umgul. Again, Jazen cut off his darkness from rising to the surface and was about to turn back to Adara when he felt something that actually made him sweat. That dark presence was getting closer. He turned himself to it just in time to see a lightsaber whiz by him at Locke. He was about to try and knock the saber aside with the Force when Locke caught it effortlessly, although he could see the drop of sweat slide off his Master as well. But he couldn't worry about that. Instead, he focused on the woman behind him, whos mere presence was making it hard to breathe. If she joined in this fight......Jazen's hand tightened on his lightsaber.
Luckily, the woman spoke to her ally for a moment, her voice as dark as her presence. Then she left. As she got farther away, Jazen felt the suffocating aura leave with her and he let out a breathe of relief. Now, at least, they could start to work on the remaining Sith, and then get to the Chancellor. Turning himself back on Adara, he rose his lightsaber before him, well aware of the fact that even without her staff, the woman was still a serious threat. Jazen twitched an eyebrow at her sarcasm when she referred to them, but otherwise held his composure, knowing that it was just her attempting to rattle them. And then she focused on him. Jazen tilted his her questions and comments and for the first time today, actually laughed a little. He didn't mean to, but some of that lingering darkness managed to bring his to the surface, despite his best attempts to keep it down.
"I choose them because I was tired of having to use my clothes to save myself from falling. And sorry to disappoint your fantasies, but until today, I never even thought to use them. And you misread what I use them for, so I guess the Sith aren't as intelligent as people make them out to be. Although if you fancy this sort of thing, I would be happy to let you feel their sting this time."
The darkness inside Jazen chuckled at this thought, and for a moment, Jazen let a grin slide across his face with it. Then he realized again what was happening to him and his face returned to a mask of calm, his saber tense and ready to move at the instant Locke or Adara made their move. He wanted badly for some reason to strike out at her for insulting Locke, but Locke had been a good teacher and he held his stance, watching, waiting.
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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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Sept 27, 2010 23:25:30 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Sept 27, 2010 23:25:30 GMT -5
Locke was pleased to see that his throwing of Adara into the seats proved to be effective. The woman was taken from her feet and lifted just off the ground and hurled, slamming hard into the seats. It was a trade, then. She grazed his leg with his saber, and in return she got to have a short flight. Would rather not have been hit at all, Locke thought as he forced himself to his feet.
There was some pain that came with the wound, especially when Locke put a lot of weight on that leg. That could prove to be a problem. Mobility was one of his greatest strengths in combat--taking it away or hampering it too much could prove to be devastating. Maybe I can dull some of the pain, at least for now...
While healing was one of Locke's weaker areas in the Force, if not the weakest, he had some ability. A soft white light appeared under his palm as he held it over the burn in his leg, weaving the Force into the flesh to do what he could. A bit of the pain faded. Some of the burned went away. Make no mistake, it still hurt, and he'd need someone better than he at healing or some kolto to properly fix the wound, but it would have to do for the time being. Adara, who'd rolled back up to a ready position while he worked as his leg, took the opportunity to speak.
"It seems that you and your churl have gotten me, Jedi. Pray tell, is it true that the Jedi never kill their prisoners? Or is that simply baseless myth? I shudder to think of my fate, should it be the latter."
Despite the gravity of their situation, Locke couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Why, that's quite true, m'dear, unless you prove to be barbaric or dangerous enough to warrant it." He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, trying to figure out how much he could do without making pain explode through his thigh. "No, see, when we take you prisoner, we fatten you up, make a mole grow on your face and turn you into a worker for the mess halls. And then you get to spend the rest of your days handing out mystery meat to eager, bright-eyed young students." The grin he offered her could be called nothing short of devilish. "Doesn't that sound like fun? I can just picture it now. We'll have some work to do to add another..." he looked at her, trying to guess a weight for her tall, lithe form. "We'll go with 100 pounds, just to be safe, but it can be done! Though, if you ever find out what the mystery to the mystery meat is, you'll have t-"
A sudden explosion of power off in the end of the stadium caught his attention, bringing his words crashing to a halt. A pocket of people around the Dark Lady, the demon, suddenly dropped dead as the dark side swelled throughout the stadium. "What the hell..." Locke muttered.
For the first time in what seemed an eternity, silence filled the stadium. It was a cold silence. A dark silence that threatened to reach into his very soul. It was unnerving, to say the very least. Locke wasn't one to often be at a loss for words, but now he was. What kind of monster is she?
There wasn't much time to think on an answer. The demon leapt through the air, and before he could fully comprehended what was going on, Locke saw that there was a red saber spinning through the air in his general direction. No, it wasn't coming in his direction.
It was aimed right at him.
Naturally, his first reaction was to roll out of the way. But then another idea took hold. It was a dangerous one; one that could end up with him maimed or worse if he screwed it up, but he couldn't shake it, now that its seed had been planted into his mind.
The Force was there at his call, and he drew deeply, focusing it in on himself as if he was going to enter a meditative state. His perceptions deepened as his focus narrowed to one single point: that lightsaber. He watched it spin, studying its motions and forming a plan. The timing would have to be damn near perfect, but if he could reach his hand out right...
Now!
Locke's hand shot out as the blade started back on a rotation away from him, bringing the hilt around. He felt the cool metal in his grasp, felt his fingers closing around it and arresting it movement. Some of it carried over, sending his arm out wide, but in the end, the saber was his, held safely within his grasp. The red pool of light it cast almost complimented the orange that was thrown out by his lightsaber.
A dark presence suddenly bloomed near them and Locke turned to see that the demon herself had decided to make her way over. Nothing he did could stop fear's chill as he ran down him, like an icy finger being dragged down his spine. If she's come to fight us, we're doomed. He didn't try to deny it. There was no shame in thinking it.
It was the truth, plain and simple.
Thankfully, fate saw to it that she was not. Oddly enough, she offered Locke some strange form of congratulations in allowing him to keep the lightsaber and then spoke to Adara before making her leave. Locke studied the blade he held. It was crimson, the color of fresh blood, and the blade was short. The hilt had a sort of beauty to it, even though it was a bit different stylistically than something he might make. A press of a button made the blade vanish, and Locke put it away. He'd keep it. If nothing else, it could make for a backup saber if the need ever arose.
The demon's departure left Locke and Jazen facing Adara once again. She wasted no time opening her mouth, first calling Locke a coward and then proceeding to mock Jazen (in a rather ribald fashion) for his choice of weapons in the whips. Locke couldn't help but laugh heartily, at all of it.
"Ah, Force, woman," he said when his laughter faded enough for him to speak clearly again. He was smiling; it was an earnest, amused smile. "You do have a tongue on you, you know that? I can't say I disapprove... Though I'm not entirely sure why you call be a craven. I was the one that started this fight with you, if I recall correctly, and..." he looked down at his waist and then back up to her, grinning. "Last I checked, my underwear is still white and I feel no paste in them when I move, nor is there any warmth running down my leg, so that possibility is gone. As for the whips..."
He looked over to Jazen to let the boy defend himself. The response was an admirable effort. We'll have to work on his comebacks. But that could wait. The last thing Jazen said made Locke chuckle, though. "And I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he asked Adara, with a wriggle of his eyebrows.
The time for banter was past now, though. Locke didn't know where the Chancellor was, but he knew there were still other Sith about, and that they'd be trying to get at her. He could be helping, but until he and Jazen found some way to remove Adara from the equation, they couldn't. Trying to get to Naaden might only make things worse, if Adara followed... if she allowed them to escape at all.
"Anyway, let's resume things, shall we?" Locke wasted no time lunging forward, using what ability he had in body to speed his movements. Adara's staff was away for the time being, after Jazen had taken the initiative and tossed it away with the Force. That was perhaps a good thing, though given the calmness of the woman, Locke doubted she was harmless. Still, it might be their best shot to get her.
When he came within saber range, he lashed out with a hard thrust at her chest. It was a feint, however. His blade halted and whipped around as he stopped on his front leg and pushed himself off to the side, moving to his right, her left. The orange blade came down again, slicing out toward her shoulder. Unfortunately though, Locke was still in the phase where he wasn't quite sure how much he could do with his wounded leg. When he landed on it, pain shot up and he faltered for a moment before recovering, though it slowed him down. He started to move back then, hoping he could get back before she got a chance to capitalize on it.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
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Oct 4, 2010 17:07:20 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Oct 4, 2010 17:07:20 GMT -5
The epicanthix woman's brow arched at Jazen's comeback, and an almost condescending look crossed her face. At times doing nothing but responding in body language was far more insulting than anything the tongue could produce. That was one of those times. Instead she turned her attention to the brown haired knight and offered a slight smirk and a half hearted shrug, "it seemed like the thing to call you at the time, I suppose. One has to wonder what manner of paste would be in your underwear? Would it not be liquid, Jedi?"
No sooner did she speak than he lunged at her with his yellow-orange colored blade. Adara her torso to the left, evading the lunge but finding her side facing the man and her front the blade. As he moved the blade towards her she bent her torso backwards and leaped through the railing (luckily) only to hit the turf about five feet below with a roll. "So the stories of Jedi not killing their prisoners is a lie, then? How much courage it must take to kill an unarmed woman. Your master would be proud. You are craven indeed, ser."
Her arms slowly rose up and pointed at the two Jedi, making her next action obvious. Lightning curled from the tips of her fingers and danced in the space between Adara and her enemies. The blue lightning arced and danced for a few moments before its source would change position. She leaped up towards them to stand on the cement structure once more, the electricity keeping both from throwing her like a toy. When her feet were firmly planted on the ground, she cast a glance at Jazen, "that is how we chosen few who are graced with intelligence leap towards Force Users, little one."
Underneath her blue samite-silk toga-robe-thing was a pair of lightsabers, one of which she grabbed and activated. It was the full sized saber, her crimson fury lighting up the world around it like a bright star. "Perhaps now the fight is more... fair," a mocking expression crawled across her face as she moved towards Locke. She would take care to keep the knight and the padawan on the same side, making it far easier for her to defend and considerably harder for them to attack.
Her arm was outstretched and the lightsaber's bloody star pointing directly at Locke's stomach. Within a heartbeat the blade doubled in length. It would easily skewer the knight if he didn't move before the dual phase was activated. Regardless of her success in that move, she swung her saber at the boy's hip.
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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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Oct 5, 2010 15:28:21 GMT -5
Post by Kuhblam on Oct 5, 2010 15:28:21 GMT -5
Something needs to changer here or I'm going to be on the wrong end of the fight shortly.
Even putting his strength to use, Ryke still found himself in a struggle to block the rapid succession of crimson blaster shots coming through the thin haze of smoke. Ataru was too wide for such defensive combat, and Shii-Cho simply couldn't compensate for the inconsistency of a blaster bolt. With either style, Ryke was immediately at a disadvantage unless this woman came in close to engage him. Unless she was stupid, however, Ryke knew that the Sith would never give him an advantage like that. His muscles tensing and flexing with each deflection, Ryke reached out with the Force to seize a large piece of charred durasteel, formerly a part of the speeder's thin armor plating, and brought it up in front of himself while de-igniting his lightsaber, letting the de facto shield take precedence for deflection.
His force energy some spent from the amount of effort it was taking to hold up the large metal plate, Ryke's head cocked sideways to the entrance he had come as another dark force presence entered the fray. The force signature was powerful, very powerful; Ryke was talented, but this one eclipsed his own power easily. It was a pure center of dark-side energy and hate mixed into some inscrutable mixture of corruption. Regardless, it needed to be dealt with quickly and decisively. However, before he could turn to face this new adversary, a trio of blaster shots recoiled against his armor before the smoke in the room swept across in a low-lying blackened fog that quickly overtook Ryke's ocular senses.
What trick does she play?
His weathered hands still holding the durasteel panel up, Ryke understood a few precious seconds later as he tracked her some-what blatant presence through the Force soaring above him and beyond through the clouded hangar's upper atmosphere.
The Chancellor!
Turning to his other enemy, Ryke's eyes made contact with another figure running up behind this new Sith wearing the traditional coarse brown robes of a Jedi and carrying a plain lightsaber hilt in one hand. Ryke instantly recognized him as Ta'lin, another talented Jedi Knight about a year younger than him but just as able in martial and force ability. Ryke didn't want to leave Ta'lin to face this man alone, but the Chancellor was his primary objective. From the beginning, Ryke had been assigned to protect her and he was going to complete his mission, even if it was necessary he give up his life.
At least I'm not alone. He can distract the second pursuer for a time. I need to get back to the Chancellor ASAP.
Focusing the Force through him and channeling it towards the base of his hands, Ryke vigorously hurled the large panel in the direction of the male Sith in a delaying tactic and spun on his heels towards the tunnel system door that the Chancellor's security team had taken. The smoke fog clearing, Ryke bounded over a burning chunk of speeder wreckage with his lightsaber humming in hand as he sprinted for the tunnel door. At it's base, two security guards were slumped on either side with their faces in the dusted permacrete, neat black holes in the back of their security vests.
Still sprinting, Ryke noted with relief how the door was still open. Although the Sith assassin was very clever, she had not even paused to think to lock the door behind her. Although it might do much, it would certainly have delayed Ryke long enough for her to dispose of Chancellor Naaden's remaining security team. Vaulting through the open blastdoor and leaping down the descending flight of stairs, Ryke landed on his feet at the base of the stairs with a heavy thud as he entered the underground tunnel system and resumed a rhythmic sprint in the Chancellor's presumed direction.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Oct 11, 2010 22:58:01 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Oct 11, 2010 22:58:01 GMT -5
"So the stories of Jedi not killing their prisoners is a lie, then? How much courage it must take to kill an unarmed woman. Your master would be proud. You are craven indeed, ser."
Locke snorted a laugh as he watched the huntress woman on the field below, where she'd rolled to harm's way. Without a doubt, she was proving to be a handful, but she was, at the very least, incredibly amusing. Her response to his little joke about his underwear would go unanswered; there were only a few places such a talk could lead, and Locke would just hate to soil Jazen's innocent ears. The other thing she said, though...
"Perhaps, if you want to call it that, m'dear. I prefer to call it being pragmatic." A wry smile touched the edges of his lips. "I'll take living over honor, if I'm forced to choose." Dead men could help no one, after all. But, amusement aside, the situation he found himself in was still dangerous. Adara had proven to be a very talented foe, but even still, Locke could shake the feeling that she wasn't taking him completely seriously. Or at least, not fighting with all that she could do. That was a disconcerting thought, if it was one that proved to be true.
Whatever the case, he couldn't dwell on it, lest he be caught unawares. The Force stirred around him, around them all, and he looked back down at Adara to see her hands raise and point at them. When the lightning came free, Locke's orange blade came up, shielding him from the blast. Energy pulsed and pushed at the blade, and Locke pushed back, ignoring the occasional spark that nicked out at him; they hurt enough to a bit, but not more than that.
He studied her when she stood before them once again, suppressing a snort when she threw another insult Jazen's way. But it was the blade that she drew, and the comment that came with it that steeled his will to beat her. Perhaps Jazen and himself couldn't take her one-on-one, but with both of them fighting against her, they at least stood a chance. Right?
"Don't get cocky," he muttered under his breath at her, though it wouldn't be loud enough to be heard over the noise that filled the rest of Delspoden Stadium. "Perhaps it is..." he said to her, though he'd say no more.
Instead, he watched her, keeping his saber at the ready. "Jazen," he said through the Force to his student, "wait for her to attack and attack back when you get the chance. We've both got to press her as hard as we can. It's our best hope here." A moment of thoughtful silence passed. "We need to end this quickly, if we can; I think there's more to this woman than she's letting on"
She approached, and her saber extended in her hand, pointing towards his belly. Now, Locke hadn't a clue what she was going to do, but he wasn't going to just stand there with a saber pointed at him. He took a step to the side, and not a moment to soon, because the length of Adara's crimson blade suddenly exploded, searing the air and the edge of his coat where his flesh had just been only a heartbeat ago.
His eyes widened at the sight of it, but he started to move, seeing an opportunity to try to get a quick riposte in. There was some worry that came when her lightsaber shifted, swinging towards Jazen, but it was a simple attack. Jazen could handle himself on that. But at the same time, it presented an opening, and Locke decided to take it.
He lunged forward and a bit to the side, gritting his teeth against the protests from the wound on his leg. As he came to a stop, he rotated his body and swept out with his saber, trying to hit her knee with his saber and hoping that the swipe she made at Jazen had bought him enough time to make it.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
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Master
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Oct 12, 2010 18:47:01 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Oct 12, 2010 18:47:01 GMT -5
Jazen held his stance when Locke made his first move at Adara, keeping his saber up in front of him, eyes watching the woman intently. He could have made a move as well, wanted to make a move as well but something in the Force told him to wait. And one knew better than to attack a lion and think it not dangerous, even with its claws taken away. Locke was more skilled than he was and should she attempt anything unexpected, he was sure Locke could handle it. And the less Locke had to worry about when those hidden claws came out, the easier it would be for him to evade and remove them. And that's when Jazen hoped an opening would form that he could exploit.
Her comment slid off him as if he was water and she oil. It was merely a play on words, he told himself, another attempt to get him to make a clumsy move. It was a good thing he had chosen to wait on both accounts, for Adara suddenly took flight. Not high into the air, but enough to clear the railing and land on the stadium floor below. A quick shuffle of his feet had Jazen following after her, but he hesitated at the railing, remembering the last two times he had taken to the air against her. True, it would only be a short distance to fall but she had proven herself more than capable of taking advantage of that small opening before. She needed to be distracted or preoccupied before he could......
He never finished his thought as an all too familiar blue light suddenly sparked along her fingertips on rising arms. He barely had time to bring his saber up in a proper defensive stance before the blue lightning erupted from her fingers, bridging the gap between her and them in an instant. Unlike before, when he was in the air, Jazen was able to deflect more of the lightning with his planted stance, even when she took to the air, her lightning still raining down on both of them.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Locke too was forced to hold a defensive stance, the occasional spark of lightning striking them both. He chuckled at her comment about how a smart person used a Force jump, flicking his lightsaber as her lightning died down as she switched to another tactic.
She had drawn a fresh lightsaber that had been hidden under her clothes till now and now stood only a short distance away from them, their sabers creating an eerie hum in the silence that had fallen upon the stadium. Shaking off the residue numbness from the lightning, he took up guard next to his Master, ready to counter whatever attack was coming.
At first, it looked like he wouldn't have to counter any attack. She came at them after conversing with Locke for a moment, and through the Force Jazen heard the battle plan his master had in mind. It was probably the best one possible at the moment, considering her skill and power, combined with the narrow space they had to now fight in. He was about to change locations in order to take advantage of that plan to its fullest when her blade came forward. Jazen's eyes widened in surprise as her saber suddenly doubled in length when she thrust it at Locke, but he acted as quickly as he could. He eyed the next row up, already preparing to make a quick hop to it when a warning in the Force hit him like a brick wall.
His eyes shifted to his side just as the saber was shifting towards him. It was a rather simple task to shift his saber that way and catch the incoming blade against his. He pushed it aside and jumped up to the next row but he didn't just jump this time. He called the Force to him, wrapped it around his free hand and thrust it towards Adara, a Force push hopefully just strong enough to distract her long enough for him to land. And the second he did land, he flip jumped again as his feet made contact. Landing behind the woman, Jazen spun his saber and rushed her. Locke had already finished his attack before Jazen had landed, so the chances were good that Adara would be ready for him. But by attacking from this side, he might expose her to another counter-attack by Locke. Or she might very well be locked up in combat with him still, giving Jazen an opening instead.
"Thanks for the lesson. It sure came in handy."
He thrust out with the Force again, putting his full power into this one, hoping it would knock her off balance into Locke's incoming attack. Then he brought his saber down low to sweep at her legs, then back up diagonally at her back. And like Locke had told him, he would press his attack with quick and powerful strikes alike, aiming to either create an opening for Locke or to take advantage of one he created for him.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Oct 13, 2010 20:05:34 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Oct 13, 2010 20:05:34 GMT -5
It didn't surprise Adara that the Jedi evaded her sneak attack, or that her half-hearted (not that it appeared to be so) swing had been parried. The woman's blade shrank back to its normal size as she used the momentum from the parry to swing the blade back around and deflect Locke's lunge. By then she sensed the whelp at her back, but did nothing about it.
A smirk slashed across her face at the situation. They thought they would keep her defense on two fronts. Fools. So long as her defense (or offense) wasn't divided between two sides, theirs would have to be lax to avoid striking each other. No matter their bond. Adara was just preparing to dive to the side and then towards Locke's back when a weak telekinetic push hit her back. It couldn't have been meant to do anything more than throw her off balance.
What the boy didn't think through is that the push couldn't have possibly been directed enough not to hit his master as well. She stumbled forward, and then fell forward into a dive that would send her well away from the Jedi and his cur. Rolling to her feet, she turned and glanced at the rust colored staff out in the field, laying across a few of the bodies that Acalya had left behind. "The lesson? Hmmph. You know nothing, child."
The woman's light saber was underneath her silken attire once more, and her icy eyes glanced back at her staff. "I believe my work here is complete. You so called 'knights' will undoubtedly succeed in protecting your precious chancellor, but at what cost?" Adara motioned towards the host of carcasses, a wild lock of her raven hair falling to her front as she did so, "you have proven that you cannot defend your own people, or keep us from killing anyone we choose at any place we desire. Including the most secure places in the galaxy. The will of the people will soon be broken at this realization, and that was our true goal."
A wild grin spread her lips thin, and her head tilted ever so lightly. Her laugh was rich, and actually genuine, but she wouldn't allow herself to be caught unawares. "You could not have thought that I was trying to kill you. Children, if I had I never would have allowed my staff to part my hands. The whelp would be engulfed in those flames, and you would have been skewered a hundred times over, Jedi. Go, grow stronger so that you may actually become a threat to me. 'Tis no fun in killing the strong while they are weak, after all."
Adara dove down to the field and sprinted towards her staff. Once it was retrieved, it only took a few more bounds for her to be on the opposite side of the field, to the top of the stadium, and have her sliding down the side. Smiling as she dropped the rest of the distance to the ground with only the roar of the wind to speak to her, she landed with a roll and sped off towards the exfiltration zone. Only until she was sure that no one was following her did she wrap her signature tight around herself and slip into the night. No jedi could feel her, and no mere human could stand against her if she was challenged.
Success was sweet, and oh so easy to take, but that was the problem. She loathed easy, and wanted a true challenge. Perhaps the next one would test her meddle...
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sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
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last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
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Oct 14, 2010 0:51:59 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Oct 14, 2010 0:51:59 GMT -5
The sound of her footsteps echoed down the hallway, magnified by the metallic floor and walls. She didn't know what lay ahead of her, but there was no time to pause and assess the situation. Time was off the essence. Every second delay meant the chancellor would be further away. All of the other Sith had become embroiled in fights with the Jedi. Zarene was the only one left.
Force bring me speed. The Force was energy, power, and with it, she could run faster and jump farther than any normal being, but using it took concentration and will. She would not be able to keep it up forever. Already she could feel fatigue beginning to set in.
This mission would be over soon. One way or another.
And there, a hundred yards ahead, was the chancellor's entourage. And a heavy permacrete blast door. If that door closed, the magnetic seals would engage, and once that happened there would be nothing she would be able to do to break through.
As the last of the chancellor's guards stepped through, the doors began to slide shut. Quickly, she made a throwing motion with her hand, sending forward weaves of telekinetic energy. There was a metallic screech of grinding gears as the door ground to a halt. The machine struggled and fought. It took almost all the power Zarene had left to hold to back. If she could only get to the other side...
The guards must have realized something was wrong, as they turned around, one of them frantically trying operate the door controls, the others raising their blasters and opening fire. Blood red bolts streaked down the narrow hallway towards her. Zarene threw herself against the wall, the bolts passing by her chest with only inches to spare. Her blaster flew into her hand and she returned fire.
The hallway was only a few feet wide. There was little room to dodge and maneuver. A volley of bolts struck the wall near her, sending out showers of sparks and little bits of molten metal. She raised her metal arm to shield her face, but she couldn't stop all of the tiny shards of shrapnel as little knifes cut into her skin. Her concentration broke for a split second. The door slammed shut. The chancellor had escaped.
She slammed her iron fist against the metal wall in frustration, spouting out a long line of curses as she did so. So close! Almost! But almost didn't cut it. Almost wasn't good enough. All the tiredness and fatigue that she had been holding at bay seemed to hit her all at once as she collapsed into one knee.
She turned on her comlink. "Byar, get your men out of the city. We're done here."
The sound of footsteps could be heard coming closer. She was done here yet. She still had to fight her way back out. Good. Zarene pulled herself back up. Maybe she couldn't kill the chancellor, but at least she could kill a few more people before she left. Anger filled her, and with it, strength.
She was going to get out of here. And she wasn't going to let anything or anybody stop her.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Oct 15, 2010 15:53:28 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Oct 15, 2010 15:53:28 GMT -5
Orange and red crashed loudly together as Adara drew her blade back from Jazen's parry, stopping Locke's own attack in the process. Locke grit his teeth and started trying to sweep her saber aside so that he could attack once again, but he never got the chance. Jazen's push hit Adara, as it was supposed to, but given the space (or lack thereof) between them, it hit Locke as well. Locke's attack was thrown off before it could truly begin, and he stumbled to the side a step or two, caught off guard by Jazen's push. He cast a glance over Jazen's direction at the mess-up, but it was quick, a shift of the eyes and nothing more.
Their attacks, their plan to get Adara before she could get them all came to a halt when the woman rolled away, putting the two of them once more on the same side as her. Locke swore inwardly, but on the outside, he remained calm, facing her and meeting her eyes with a steady determination. It seemed that she was done with the duo, though.
"I believe my work here is complete. You so called 'knights' will undoubtedly succeed in protecting your precious chancellor, but at what cost? You have proven that you cannot defend your own people, or keep us from killing anyone we choose at any place we desire. Including the most secure places in the galaxy. The will of the people will soon be broken at this realization, and that was our true goal."
For once, Locke broke her gaze and looked away, down and to the side. It was only for an instant, but is was there. She's right, he thought. Fires still raged throughout the stadium, and even in parts of the city beyond. The dead and dying were everywhere, accompanied by their injured brethren. They'd 'won,' here, yes, but the victory was pyrrhic, to say the least.
But still, even through the darkness, there was hope. Perhaps, rather than being broken, the people of the Republic would finally understand the reality of the threat they faced. Perhaps they would finally realize that the enemy that fought them didn't care for their lives, or the lives of their brothers and sisters. Perhaps seeing the lengths the Sith would go to, in slaughtering innocents would produce a rallying cry better than anything the Chancellor could have said on this night. Time would tell, but if thing like this continued to happen, Locke had no doubt that the Republic's back would be broken.
"You could not have thought that I was trying to kill you. Children, if I had I never would have allowed my staff to part my hands. The whelp would be engulfed in those flames, and you would have been skewered a hundred times over, Jedi. Go, grow stronger so that you may actually become a threat to me. 'Tis no fun in killing the strong while they are weak, after all."
Locke set his jaw, but didn't answer. Either the woman was arrogant beyond belief, or she'd just given him a confirmation of his suspicions. She bounded off to get her staff then, and Locke stayed where he was, holding his hand up to tell Jazen to do the same. "Let her go. If she's done here, then we're need to move elsewhere, rather than chase after her."
Now that the fight--short though it was--was over and his adrenaline levels were starting to come down, all Locke could feel was an incredible heaviness weighing down on him. He only stood there for a moment, taking in the scene before him: the ruins of the field, the smoke, the bodies, the proclamation of the absolute disaster that this event that was supposed to be a show of strength had been turned into.
"We were supposed to protect these people," he muttered, to no one in particular. "We fight to protect those that can't protect themselves, and we failed. Force help me, we failed."
He sighed and jumped down to the field, motioning for Jazen to follow. There were two ways to get to where the Chancellor would be heading, one on each side of the field. Locke knew the way. "Come on, Jazen, we need to get back to the Chancellor's group. There's nothing more we can do here."
As he went on, turning off his saber and putting it back into his coat, Locke sighed and shook his head. I'm gonna need a drink after all this.
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Jazen
Beelzaboot
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Oct 17, 2010 12:55:20 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Oct 17, 2010 12:55:20 GMT -5
Jazen wanted to smile when he saw Adara stumble from his attack, but that idea quickly faded when he saw how she used his move to her advantage. She not only used it to roll to safety but because the obstruction in its way vanished, a portion of the push went past her and connected with Locke. Jazen winced internally as his Master stumbled himself from the attack, catching the look his Master gave him after he regained his stance.
He sent back a look that said how was I supposed to know she'd do that?, then turned his attention back to Adara. Luckily, the woman hadn't used his blunder to take advantage and attack an off guard Locke, which was a good thing at least. She was once again facing both of them though, so Jazen was looking for a way to get to her side or behind her, where it would be harder for her to focus on both of them at once. And this time, he would make sure his attack hit her and her only.
At her words, Jazen titled his gaze to where she indicated, even though he could feel he knew already what she was talking about. Bodies were everywhere, hundreds of people either dead, wounded, or living the last few moments of their life. He could feel them in the Force; the blistering pain of those hurt, the fading light of those who were barely on the verge of life and the cold darkness of those who had gone to join the Force itself. Quickly he pulled in on himself, making the only two things he could feel with the Force Locke and the woman before them. His eyes narrowed and glared at the woman, his saber lifting up as he prepared to attack at the first chance he could see.
He listened to her mocking words, listened to her taunts with an expression that while indeed showing the calm at the situation a Jedi should, also harbored some of that twisted anger he had shown on Umgul. A voice deep inside him raged and roared for him to attack, to silence her foul tongue, but Jazen kept himself still. That was what she wanted, he kept telling himself. And although he felt that she was saying those things to put them off, to urge them into striking so she could take advantage of another blunder, a good part of him knew she was speaking the truth about her holding back. And that fact made him shudder, if only a little and for a moment.
And then she was gone. Faster than Jazen thought possible, she jumped down to the stadium floor, retrieved her staff and covered the field to rush to safety on the other side of the field. Jazen wanted to chase after her, a portion of his anger demanding for it, but Locke's hand stopped him. At his Master's words, Jazen felt his head clearing, the silent rage losing its strength now that its target was gone. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then flicked his saber off, returning it to his belt.
With the adrenaline of the fight gone and the words his Master spoke of their duty, Jazen suddenly remembered something that had been lost in the battle. Blinding pain shot up his leg and he barely managed to keep himself from falling over from it. He must have done worse damage than he thought when Adara had flung him across the stadium. Calling the Force to his leg, he started to mend the pain as quickly as he could, if at this point was only to keep the pain from putting him off his feet.
He kept his feelings about the endless death and pain around him to himself, feeling his Master experiencing the same internal agony about the matter as him. No.....Jazen noticed that it wasn't bothering him as much as it should. He didn't know why, at least not for sure; perhaps he was just applying the wrong logic to the matter. The woman who had caused such damage had been strong.....insanely strong. No Jedi in this stadium had come close to her power and Jazen silently acknowledged that even with all of them at once, they might have still not be able to fight her. Keeping this to himself as well, he patted his Master on the shoulder.
"We did what we could Master. The situation sadly made that in the enemies favor this time. Next time, maybe the Force will let us have the upper hand."
With that, he took off and followed in Locke's wake. They had only one task left now; find the Chancellor and make sure the enemies other mission had not been achieved.
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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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Oct 19, 2010 19:42:28 GMT -5
Post by Kuhblam on Oct 19, 2010 19:42:28 GMT -5
The wide corridors sang with the rhythmic pounding of Ryke's field boots as his muscular figure sprinted in the direction of the Chancellor. Calm but still pressured by the urgency of the situation, Ryke gritted his teeth and ignored the pain building upwards from his heels as he could sense that he was drawing closer to his goal.
Not too far now. Push yourself, Ryke! You fail here, and the weight of the galaxy will collapse your shoulders!
Even in such a fit condition and still with the vigor of youth, Ryke had been moving at maximum pace since he had first leaped down the flight of stairs leading into the emergency tunnels. His breathing had become haggard, and Ryke's vision became slightly fuzzy for a moment.
Push harder!
Drawing on the Force to reinvigorate himself, Ryke made one last burst of speed down the last stretch of hallway. He could feel himself nearly upon the life-forces radiating up ahead; one of them, however, was exhuming something of a black-hole, angry but focused. As he continued running, Ryke's acute hearing made out the distant sounds of blaster shots pinging and the whining of an engine struggling to operate against some equally immovable force. With these notifications growing louder with each half-second, Ryke's lightsaber hilt shot into his right hand, Ryke drawing the elegant weapon without even moving either arm. His thumb already on the ignition switch, Ryke slid down a final corridor hallway on his left hip before making a sharp turn into a large hallway, his eyes scanning for threats as Ryke came up on his feet with his head on a swivel.
There you are.
Before a large set of permacrete blast-doors, Ryke finally saw his target; a lone woman kneeling exhausted on one knee spouting curses to the roof. Approaching her from behind utterly silent, Ryke's pace slowed along with his breathing to the rate of a spider crawling, taking advantage of the temporary break before the storm. Twirling his lightsaber hilt in his hand, Ryke stopped short of several yards behind the disappointed Sith assassin before crossing his arms. A curt smile cracked his face; the Chancellor was safe, and Ryke could sense anger behind the figure in front of him.
"She's gone. Now, its just you and me. No place to run this time. Time to put your money where your mouth is, deary."
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