Schloss Dauerhafte Dunkelheit – Sith Temple (Dagobah)

Dagobah

Astrographical Information

Region: Outer Rim

Sector: Sluis Sector

System: Dagobah System

Orbital Position: 2

Moons: 1

Grid Coordinates: M-2

Physical Information

Class: Swamp

Atmosphere: Type III // Fits of violent lightning storms, dense fog, and periods of torrential rainfalls

Primary Terrain: Swamp, Bogs, Wetlands

Points of Interest:

Dragonsnake Bog

Dragonsnake Bog was a murky lagoon located on the swamp planet of Dagobah. It was named after its most dangerous occupant, a giant snake-like beast called the dragonsnake, which now is not the only occupant but one of many.

Cave of the Dark Side

The dark side cave of Dagobah was an overgrown landform deep within the endless swamps of the forgotten world. Little sun ever reached the surface of the planet, due to the thick canopy, therefore shrouding the cave in an endless twilight. Beneath the thick overgrowth of vines and brambles, ancient stone steps and walls could be seen at one entrance, while a second natural entrance opened in the void of the tree. The vergence that manifested in the Force within the cave was intense and fueled by the dark side aspects of the universal energy field. Because of this, the area surrounding the cave was permeated with a sense of dread, while Force-sensitives often perceived the area as being cold, filled with malice and menace. Despite the negative energy felt by sentients, Dagobah's diverse flora and fauna were attracted to the area and flourished. The nature of the vergence's assertion on individuals was highly-personal and acted on their worst fears. Apparitions and illusions would materialize in the cave, interacting with the minds of entrants and exploiting their natural weaknesses and worries. The reactions to these apparitions would determine how the illusion played out. The nature of the cave was not simply dark, but a true and sinister evil. The manipulation of the mind was meant to produce the worst outcome for the victim, drawing out the worst reaction and luring them towards the dark side.

The Dark Temple of Dagobah **

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: Hepsalum Tash, dragonsnakes, jubba birds, knobby white spiders, swamp slugs

Immigrated Species: humans, Yoda’s species

Primary Language(s): Galactic Basic

Faction Affiliation: Sith

History:

Dagobah is a planet in the Dagobah system, and one of the purest places in the galaxy within the Force. Dagobah is a mysterious, mist-shrouded, swampy planet, mostly covered in swamps and bogs, interspersed with countless shallow lakes and lagoons and multiple living caves. The continental and oceanic crusts of Dagobah were only vaguely defined, and there was little in the way of volcanic activity or earthquakes. Over the years, the atmosphere has thickened and has become much harder on visitors of the illustrious planet. It is said that the dark aspect of the Force lingers more relentlessly throughout the atmosphere and that people who journey to the planet of Dagobah are surrendered slowly but surely to that side of the Force. Rumors are abound that there are men and women lost to the swamps and wetlands that have had their most basic instincts drawn out of them by the Dark Side of the Force and their consciousness reduced to predatory levels. A people with their minds in such a recession, have been known to show gruesome examples of cannibalism and measures of barbarism erracticly. Only practitioners of the Dark Side fair better on this dark concentrated world.

Old description in spoiler:

((Summary compiled by Exodus. Thank you!))

As the shuttle popped out of hyperspace, a droid stirred Darth Ares from his deep meditation, notifying him. Knowing a droid wouldn't be able to navigate through the sensor-blinding environment of Dagobah, Ares took manual control of the craft, piloting it downwards to where the Force was pulling him. He didn't fly excessively fast, but given the large, dense forestry, he certainly didn't fly as slow as most would have, either.

The small shuttle touched down beside the DUVUCUS, the side door raising, and Ares got his first whiff of the foul, acrid air of the swamp planet. Very undesirable...perfect for a prison or some other facility for torture or the like. He shrugged it off, continuing for the door, though as he approached it, he stopped, the sight he bore witness to shocking him to inaction. Two people, a man and a woman (and ancient looking at that), stood near the doors to the small sanctuary, the woman holding what looked to be a slugthrower pistol, the man a type of shotgun. You have got to be kidding.

"Go on now, we don't want to buy any of your insurance. We dun' told you...or, uh...someone...once, we don't want any of that crap!"

The old woman turned to him, glaring, still keeping her pistol trained on Ares, who made no effort to either show submission or aggression. The mere idea that they were enough of a match for him in their minds was amusing enough s it was.

"Hush! That was centuries ago, and we had to kill him, remember? Besides, he looks more like the bounty-hunter type to me, what with this armor and all..."

Ares sighed, shaking his head slowly as mentally he reached out, projecting his presence and specifically driving fear and torment into their weary old minds. With a calm voice that seemingly resonated inside their skulls with terrible power and pain, he spoke.

"My master is inside. You will let me pass, or you will die on our unholy grounds, caretakers."

Immediately they dropped their weapons, though mildly in pain they welcomed it as an old friend, immediately all smiles as Ares ceased his influence on them.

"Well why didn't you say so! You're welcome here, Dark one...we were told to expect others, but didn't expect someone quite like..." The old woman looked up, her smile fading a tad as she looked his armor up and down "...well, you. Please, come in."

They rose, grabbing their primitive weapons and opening the doors for him and his droids, hauling in a large crate of candles and an array for a holonet with a backsignal scatter array, a device that disallowed holonet transmissions from the transceiver without special access codes, acting as a sort of firewall to prevent this location from being discovered through tracing of outbound signals. Also, his Ilum crystals were brought in.

It was the first time Ares had really actually met Ar-Pharazon, though he spoke and worked through his servant, the Mouth, he had never met the man in the flesh, and it was nice to finally be able to do just that. Approaching the only other obviously evil presence nearby, Ares knelt in front of Ar-Pharazon, bowing his head in respect.

"Master. I have heard you were successful in your goals, and I now have one of my own I would like your leave to settle before I am assigned any more tasks. I also would request to make use of your infinite power to aid me in augmenting my armor before I carry out my goal. Bless me, Father...for I must sin."

”œMay the evils that spring forth from the dark side of the Force fall like lightning upon you as you strive to bring hatred, suffering, and a general sense of disorder into all the worlds of the living. May those worlds die and be reborn with hordes of demons, tarnished ruins and fetid chaos. Darkness, please coat this man. Shelter his very soul with your fury. Burst him forth, so that he may plant the seed of bedlam in even the most contented and pious hearts. Rise, my friend, and totally give yourself to the darkness.”

Delta stood silent in the back of the temple, observing the idle chit chat between Lord Ar-Pharazon and Darth Ares. It was entertaining to be sure, lightning flashed into the arching tunnel's ceiling where is disappeared into the darkness. Delta smiled softly under his Helmet, and kept his emotions heavily guarded, his weapons clutched within his hands, for as he had been told. Dagobah was filled with those who would seek out the mysteries of the ancient place. Yoda's hut being one of them.

Ca'Aran watched closely to the displays of the force, observing, learning. His blood red visor glowing dimly against the dark walls. His eyes darted to the walls and ceilings, it was like a tomb. Ancient, the air felt untouched for millennia, dark and dank. It clutched at his heels as he trailed Ar-Pharazon and Ares. He was here to train, and to learn.

His heart was possessed with a yearning for power, for which Ca'Aran knew he could not have. To lust was to be weak, to seek power was healthy, but to be overcome was a dangerous ordeal.

Car'Aran became aware that they were talking of armour and weapons. His ears piqued in curiosity. They were speaking of Dagon the Fallen, the Sith and armourer. Who had departed the galaxy as suddenly as he had arrived.

Qaela's new yacht, which she had temporarily named the Incalculable finally dropped out of hyperspace over a dark green and grey planet. After several days in hyperspace, Qaela was growing restless and was eager to get off the ship. She was not used to long space travel alone because she had always had at least one other person with her.

She had used the time wisely, but the length caused her to go a little stir crazy. For the first day, she spent most of the time setting things up on her ship just the way she liked them. On Coruscant, she had done some hasty setup, but mostly just brought the things on board and hadn't unpacked them. She had little experience in this and it took a lot of trial and error before she got things into some semblance of what she liked.

She spent a part of the next day admiring the cortosis staff that Ca'Aran had given her from the possessions of the Jedi they had killed at the Sith Temple. It was an impressive weapon indeed, she could see why the Jedi carried it. When she first acquired it, she had to do some research to figure out exactly what it was. Once she got the results, though, she realized just how valuable a weapon it was. To have something that was capable of resisting a lightsaber and had the ability to generate a lightsaber like blade was ingenious.

She tried it out and figured out how it operated before she put it to use. Over and over she drilled with the weapon in all the different modes it could be used in. She had always liked the staff or spear and preferred it over a sword or axe, so this was a joy for her. That the weapon could convert from a staff to a spear was an added bonus.

The only thing it was lacking was the ability to absorb or deflect blaster shots and to ground electricity. Those would be important things in combat. Qaela spent the rest of that second day empowering the staff with the techniques she had learned from Mother so that it would be even more durable than it had been. A few tests with her blaster showed that it was able to absorb the blaster bolts without taking damage. She couldn't deflect them, but that was okay.

During the night, when she was in bed with nothing else to do, she began a technique that she had learned from her mother before coming here. Many Nightsisters who became pregnant were not able to spend the entire natural term in a slightly weakened state. Those who had the command of the Arts would often use them to speed up the pregnancy and cut it nearly in half. Qaela did the same now and started the process so that she could have the baby in around five standard months. It would cause her to consume more energy and tire her out, but it would be worth it.

Finally, she learned how to adapt to the armor and the helmet. Now that it was a truly proper fit, it was far more comfortable and easier to move around in. When training with the new staff, she was in the armor both with and without the helmet. She had figured out much of how the helmet worked and could control more of it. The view and readouts were still a little confusing to comprehend at times, but she would get used to it.

When she was finally able to land the ship, she was eager to get out even if this place was literally a swamp. Even though she wasn't expecting any combat, she donned her full armor minus the helmet and geared up with weapons. After all, this was a Sith establishment and though she didn't feel a great number of people inside, her past experiences with Sith had taught her to be always on the lookout. She brought her red lightsaber, her wooden knife, the blaster, and the cortosis staff which was strapped to her back with a black leather thong.

Her first impressions of this planet were not good. It smelled poorly and was just creepy. Qaela was no stranger to the wilderness after having spent almost her entire life roaming around on various training assignments and even just exploring. But she had never really been in swamps or bogs, especially not this developed. She didn't know why anyone would want to have an outpost here, unless it was for the reason that it was pretty remote.

She could sense a few dark spots in the Force that guided her to the entrance of the outpost. There, she was greeted by an oddly old couple that seemed to ramble on about random things amongst themselves. They seemed pretty hostile until she used a spell to rip their blasters from their hands and glare at them. They generally seemed harmless, so Qaela didn't know why they were around.

She could feel Ca'Aran's presence first and was eager to see how he fared. Ar-Pharazon's powerful presence was also nearby, as was another presence she couldn't identify. She took note of the dimly lit caverns as she worked her way towards where the others were.

When she turned the last corner, she saw the three in the largest room she had seen yet. She walked a few paces in before recognizing the third male as the mute Sith who had brutally beaten her back on Coruscant. Anger and fury immediately rose and she stiffened in readiness for an attack. She didn't draw weapons just yet, but neither did she make any effort to conceal her anger.

((We have nothing going on, so I'll write out a quick post))

"I am one with your tremendous evil, a great warhammer of the chaotic abysmal depths, the sword of hell and the harbinger of death. May my sins please you."

Ares bowed, gesturing behind him after Ar-Pharazon had finished to the box a droid held, full of a decently large cache of Ilum crystals.

"Master, these crystals are from Ilum, specially attuned to the Force and should be very easy to work with. I have...memories...from my former...life...they were used in a way which could tangibly augment the Force to a binding effect on anything those skilled enough saw fit to do. I...do not remember, nor do I have knowledge on the raw sorcerous powers of the arcane as you do, in your despicable splendor. Though my armor is adequate, it can be modified further, to lighten its weight and act as a grounding point in the Dark Side, to fuel my bloodlust and grant me ease of concentration while I destroy our enemies. The crystals must be attached to the armor, and sorcerous designs inlaid to bring the ley-lines of the Force into alignment. Other than that, I do not know how it is done."

Ares wore his heat-resistant bodyglove under his armor, though if the mighty Ar-Pharazon chose to reforge his armor while he was in it where he stood using profane magicks and fire, he would still relish the pain, a bountiful reminder of his Master's true power. He knew the Dark Master would be able to tell all this from his thoughts, though whether or not he actually acted upon it, Ares knew not.

A moment later, he felt another presence join the five already assembled, and he immediately recognized it as the girl who disrespected him back in the Sith Temple. But...she was more powerful now...a testament to her determination. Ares would have words with her after his business with his Master had concluded.

”œYeah, we're going to need to heat this armor in order to make it more conducive for the evil spells that I plan on chanting at it. You likely will want to take it off so we can stick it in the forge and then I can hammer it on the anvil. I mean, I've gotta hammer it, on the anvil. That's what's going on.”

Ares quickly removed his armor as he was bidden, leaving him in his near skintight bodyglove, handing the various pieces off to another nearby droid to haul around.

"Of course, Master. I will be in to watch in a moment...I have some...unfinished business to attend to with our new arrival."

The curiously funny thing was, he spoke from the vocalizer in his mask, which he now held in his hand. He wasn't sure if Ar-Pharazon would need it or not, likely not, though if he did he could bring it to him after a few minutes anyways. Bowing with a glorious display of over expressed respect for the Dark One, he quickly stepped away, turning and walking towards Quaela.

It was obvious due to her posture and the look on her face, not to mention the boiling anger that seethed from her like a deliciously noxious poison gas, that she expected him to assault or otherwise brutalize her. After a moment of looking her up and down, Ares smirked, his voice again coming from the vocalizer in his mask, a cold hollow reminder of the same vocalizer Vader was forced to use.

"So. The weakling survived. Weak no more. You've tasted power, you wield it like a squire, knowing of the way but still not a master of its path. Haphaestus wasn't wrong to choose you then. I realized later our...encounter was merely a...misunderstanding between us."

He phrased the last sentence carefuller, formulating the words slowly and cautiously. He wasn't concerned that she would attack him, but he was a creature of honor and loyalty, and wished to extend his respect towards her in a deserving manner, for at the least she had moved on in her training significantly fast in a short amount of time.

"I approached you and entered your mind, curious. You attacked me, which I saw as disrespectful, and I taught an apprentice an important lesson, never to attack a Master. Soon enough, it will be you who will brutally instruct another. Such is the way of the Sith. I do not offer apologies for my actions; what's done is done."

Ares shifted his weight, relaxing his frame a bit as his eyes narrowed with a curious gaze.

"Now...maybe you can answer the question I sought from you back on Coruscant. Do you think you worthy of the title Sith? In all its glory and dark meaning? Obviously you show intent, but to you have the right motives and drives to serve the chaotic abyss as the rest of our brothers and sisters?"

It was all that Qaela could do to contain her fury at this self righteous, arrogant male that tried to justify his attack on her as though it was her fault. She took several deep breaths through her nose while he was speaking and focused her fury into fueling a Sith style spell that shut off her presence from others. She was beyond angry at this point, but wanted her thoughts and intentions to be her own just in case this Sith decided to invade her mind again.

She wanted nothing more than to crush this insolent male who had dared strike her. She had gotten revenge on the first Sith who struck her and her allies had done the same for the third Sith who attacked her. This was the second Sith to cause her malicious harm and she really wanted to kill this one. Her hatred of the Sith ran deep. Even Ar-Pharazon was not immune to that hatred, though with him she respected his proven support as an ally. All others were no friends of hers until they could prove otherwise.

Despite her desires, she knew that to attack now would be foolish. As he had correctly said, he was a Master of the Force and she was not capable of attacking him directly and surviving. As she had been forced to do many times, she repressed her urges, even if none else could sense them. She wasn't going to attack him, not until she was far more powerful.

"A Sith!" she spat out with true disgust. "I do not even want the title of 'Sith.' You are nothing but a band of honorless, backstabbing maniacs who would rather kill each other off than unify to fight the Jedi. No, Sith, I am a Nightsister and need no other title." Something began to nag her deep in the pit of her stomach after she said that, but she ignored it and focused on the situation at hand.

She knew that might not be well received and readied herself for an attack. The last time she had encountered him, she was far weaker than she was now. She knew she couldn't match him in strength, but she wouldn't be as helpless as she had been in the Sith Temple, nor as alone.

”œFollow me,”

Ares smirked. Her rage was beautiful, a wickedly sharp weapon she could use...but she still had yet to truly focus and hone it. She could harness it, but she was still meaningless without understanding. Understanding, however, came with experience and time. Ares could not impart to her the things she needed to learn, though he was anxious to see her again after she had perfected her own arts. Truly she would be a fine warrior among the Dark Side's arsenal.

"An interesting response. Keep in mind, however, that not all Sith behave that way. Back on Coruscant, it was never my intention to kill you. Pain is a teacher, death is meaningless. As for the Jedi...they are weak. We have already thinned their numbers significantly. Most Sith, recently, have been attacking them out of sheer boredom rather than for the challenge."

There was a brief chuckle as Ares shook his head, still remembering his own recent death, a low rage broiling just beneath the surface of his mind, undetectable by Quaela. He turned from her, beginning to move deeper into the cave towards where Ar-Pharazon had gone, but stopped after a few steps, suddenly remembering something crucial.

"And never claim I am without honor. Just because you think I am without honor only shows your ignorance in the meaning behind my actions. As for the rest of the Sith's honor..."

Ares spat on the floor and continued walking, the visage of the slimy Hutt Sheog burning vibrantly in his thoughts. He kept walking deeper into the temple, lighting one of the many death sticks the Mouth had given him and taking a deep sweet drag, eventually coming upon the room the unholy Dark Master of the arcane was in, currently reforging Ares' armor

((Yea, I got carried away again. Long story short: Qaela goes outside and releases her building fury, but not without suffering herself.))

Instead of attacking, the Sith left following the path that Ar-Pharazon had trodden. Qaela was in such a fury that she was shaking. She was engulfed in her own rage right now and it made concentrating on anything but destruction difficult. If she had looked in a mirror, she would have seen that her eyes had changed to a fiery yellow and red that many Sith wielded. She had dropped the concealment she had been using while the Sith was around.

She desperately wanted to use her rage, but she had nobody to turn it against. Ca'Aran was the only one left in the room and he was one of the last people in the Galaxy she wished harm upon. Instead of waiting here and risking doing something she would later regret, she left herself.

With only a quick glance at Ca'Aran, she turned and retraced her steps back out of the room and out of the temple. She made no attempt to prevent from being followed: she didn't care at this point. Once outside, in the murky swamp, she started to try to calm herself down. Her heart was beating furiously and her blood almost burned with adrenaline and anger. She cursed the Sith and their ways for corrupting her normally calm and rational mind with their reliance on emotions and feelings. Yes, it made her stronger, but it also built into a life of its own that didn't allow her to retain control. She had been in a rage like this once before and had to kill before it fully dissipated.

A hundred meters from the temple's entrance, in the small clearing made by her ship as it landed, Qaela pulled off her staff and activated it. She began running through various paces and drills that had been instilled and often beaten into her as a child. The staff and spear had always been her favorite weapons and it was a pleasure to use them here. She was slower than she normally was because of the armor she wore, but that didn't take away from the drills.

The rage she was experiencing gave her power, stamina, and strength. That much she knew, but her rational mind told her that would have to come at a price. At this point, it didn't matter, she just continued to drill. As the weapon traced colorful arcs around her, pain erupted from her side and traced its way up through her chest and into her neck. In her blinded rage, she ignored it and continued to drill. A familiar old pain emerged on her face as a blood blister broke below her right eye. Another formed over her left temple and snaked down the side of her face to her jawline. It was the curse of the Nightsisters, something she had believed she had mostly taken care of long ago.

She had made a mistake in allowing herself to get so furious at the Sith, and now she was going to pay for it. She continued to drill even as more pain streaked up and down her legs. Despite it, her fury was not sated. Her mind was not paying attention to the pain or even what she was doing. All of the drills were burned into her memory and required no thought, and pain was nothing new to her, so she didn't need to think on those. Instead, she thought on what her mother had told her before she set out on the mission to make contact with the Sith.

Mother had warned her about her adventures in this Galaxy. She claimed to have had a vision in the Force years ago that had been the sign to her that Qaela was the one to be sent out. In that vision, she claimed she had been told of three curses and three blessings. If Qaela violated the three curses before fulfilling the blessings, she would be eternally doomed. If she fulfilled the three blessings before violating the curses, she would have a life of power and success.

Qaela herself had always doubted the story and thought in her deepest thoughts that Teyati had used the story of a vision as a way to convince the other Nightsisters to endorse her plans for Qaela. That belief had been further reinforced when she had violated one of the curses by taking and wielding a lightsaber at Haphaestus' insistence without any repercussions. She had balanced that out by fulfilling the first of the blessings by conceiving a child with a powerful Sith.

Now she had violated a second curse by announcing that she was a Nightsister and she was not so sure about her prior beliefs. The pain she was no experiencing was not a good sign. Mother had not said what form this doom would take, but she was beginning to wonder if the pain she was now experiencing was a warning.

After her muscles began to quiver in exhaustion from the constant drilling, Qaela stopped. She wanted to kill something, she had to kill something. That was the only way she knew how to properly expend her rage, just as she had done so last time. Here, in this morbid world, there was plenty of life waiting to be controlled. She shut down the staff and slung it on her back once more so she could have both hands free.

Without caring for how much damage it did to herself, she began forming and preparing a spell that the Nightsisters had mastered long ago. Its effect was far more limited than normal since she was alone and had no other Sisters to expand upon it, but it would suffice. Dark tendrils of energy, invisible to all but those who could touch the Force, began to expand out over the swamp. Qaela had not used this particular spell in some time, not since the first day she met Haphaestus. Now, she was far stronger in the Force and was fueled by her rage.

It did not take long for animals and insects to begin heeding her call and emerging from the swamp and the trees. Instead of the hundreds or thousands that could have been summoned with numerous Nightsisters, Qaela was able to bring forth only a few dozen animals and thousands of insects. The insects she released as they were of no value to her, but the animals would serve as her new targets.

She pulled off her staff once more and proceeded to slaughter the various creatures that stood unable to move or resist. With each kill, Qaela put her hatred and rage into the attack itself. As she killed more and more, she felt the tension and emotion leave her body. More pain racked her body and beneath her armor, more blisters formed over her arms, stomach, and chest.

After the last of the creatures were dead, Qaela felt the last of her rage leave. The emotion and anger that had been keeping her moving was gone leaving her drained. Her skin was flushed and she broke into cold sweats despite the ambient heat. The world around her began to swim and blur out. She had only enough energy to switch off her staff before collapsing into blackness in the mud and organic debris that made up the floor of the swamp.

Ares watched his Master work for several minutes, trying to glean something from the processes, but he knew even as he observed that unless he was specifically instructed in a more hands-on manner, he would learn little. Instead, his senses had been extended outwards, particularly to the pyre of rage that had been building outside the Temple. Excellent. He knew he had set off a chain reaction in her, driving her deeper into the frothing rage that was a trademark of a true Sith. Whether she wanted the title or not, she was descending straight down the path to hell, the path of all destined to take upon themselves the mantle of champion of pure oblivion.

Yet...as he quietly observed her, and his Master, to a lesser extent, he felt her power suddenly wane, and fizzle out. Not a good sign. Not a good one at all. His Master was still hard at work, so Ares decided to leave momentarily, journeying upwards again to the surface, out of the Temple to where she had been. There were dead animals surrounding her, though there were little signs of attack or struggle, yet she was covered with strange injuries. Ares' eyes narrowed as he studied her briefly, knowing the Dark Side held more mysteries and secrets than even the great masters of the blackness had been able to uncover, a constant torrent of power and lies.

The least he could do, though, was aid an ally, despite the fact that she'd probably kill him if given the chance. And so, he reached out with his power, tenderly picking her up with the Force. As he carried her back inside, he fed her his power, driving it back into her, augmenting her body's natural abilities to force itself to survive and endure. He could not heal her, though he could strengthen her connection to the Force with his own, which would naturally allow her to regenerate quicker.

As he entered the Temple and began making his way through it, he extended his profane abilities, lashing out with tendrils of raw power and grabbing a sleeping pallet that had been prepared for them and bringing it with him as he returned to the heated blacksmithing room. There, he gently laid her on the bed, and left her to recover on her own, still feeding her the remnants of his power. Other than that, his attention was again focused on his Master and his various incantations and techniques with which he worked the obsidian metal, the vile unholiness that was Ar-Pharazon carefully tending his armor with the utmost care. Obviously Ar-Pharazon knew that if his servant was better equipped, it would be far easier to lay waste to all that which was good and just.

In the blackness beyond the conscious universe, Qaela felt something giving her power. Some stream of energy was flowing into her essence. She latched onto that power without thinking and drew it into herself to replenish her drained body and reserves. She wasn't alert enough to process what it was or how it came to be, she just used it.

The first thing Qaela noticed when she regained consciousness was that it was rather warm wherever she was. As her senses began to return, she noticed she was no longer outside, but in a room lit by warm fiery colors. Her armor was covered in mud and swamp muck and her hair was now matted. She didn't care about vanity though, she wanted to know where she was.

Without a sound, she sat up and looked around. She took in the furnace and Ar-Pharazon working something on it with what seemed to be a great amount of joy and happiness. She hadn't seen him behave like that except in bed.

It wasn't Ar-Pharazon that caught her interest though, it was the Sith who had attacked her standing nearby. She recognized him as the source of the energy she had been drawing upon. After a few more moments, the realization of what that meant hit her and adrenaline once more pumped through her veins.

She burst up and let loose a string of Dathomiri curses. She would rather have been left there in the mud than be helped by him and have him find out she was with child. That was a secret that he could no more know than could the treacherous Raynuk. With a look of pure hatred, she picked up her staff and left the forge.

Her mind was racing as she struggled to figure a way to deal with this new threat. If he knew about her pregnancy, then he was a threat. Such knowledge, especially to a blindly Sith being such as him, would put her life in grave danger if he decided that he didn't want a mere Nightsister to have the offspring of a Sith or even if he decided to take that child and raise it as a Sith.

She decided that he needed to die here. She couldn't risk him telling anyone else that secret, but she couldn't yet fight him alone. To do so would be too great of a risk. She was not a fool enough to think that she could defeat a Sith master in a frontal attack on her own. Even were she able to match a Sith's level of Force strength, she was not nearly as trained as he was. She couldn't ambush him and assassinate him, either, because he would be suspecting that now.

Instead, she needed an ally. She found a small refresher, more primitive than anything she had used since being on Dathomir, and washed herself and her armor as best as she could. She was grateful that the armor was watertight otherwise she would have had to clean the inside of it as well as the outside. She could do nothing about the blisters, they would have to heal on their own.

As soon as she got out of the refresher, she went to track down Ca'Aran, wherever he was. She reached out in the Force and found his presence. As she had once before after Raynuk's attack on her, she sent a mental image of herself and let him know she was seeking him out.

Delta walked through the deep tunnels, a torch blazing in his armoured fist. He had been admiring some of the drawings made by the ancient masters, most of an inappropriate nature, yet some had at least something to do with the force. He walked until he could hear another set of footsteps matching his own echoing the dark and misty tunnels. He smiled and scanned with his HUD there she was, his pace quickened and he found himself face to face with Qaela, armoured in his finest. Yet his smile disappeared suddenly, she seemed distressed, and her armour.....it was filthy!

He bowed low to the lady, "What has happened? Did you fall in a mud pit?" His voice was fraught with concern.

Qaela blinked a few times at his comment on the streaks of mud still clinging to her armor. It was hardly what she thought he would comment on first. She thought he would have at least first commented on the blood blisters that were over her right eye and along the left side of her face. "The mud? I tried to wash as much as possible off, but that doesn't matter. I made a mistake, a terrible mistake, but it is over with as well. The other Sith, the mute one, knows about my pregnancy. He already attacked me once and nearly killed me back on Coruscant a couple of months ago. If he knows about my pregnancy, he could decide to kill me or could tell other Sith who would! I must kill him, but he is a Master and I do not believe I can attack him head on at this point."

She looked at the eyes of his helmet and silently cursed that he kept it on so much. "Will you help me in killing him?"

Ca'Aran's eyes narrowed in anger. The Fool! How dare he attack a woman who was pregnant, he would suffer the wrath of a thousand hells ere he ever contended with Qaela or the unborn life within her womb. A defenceless life that knew neither evil nor good. It had a trillion decisions ahead of it, a life, perfect in every way, yet untouched by the horrors of the Galaxy. A final doom would befall him or her that damaged the baby, Ca'Aran had sworn it.

To death and back, I shall defend ye, until shadows are my grave!

A righteous fury began to build deep in the pit of his stomach, so it would be. Darkness and everlasting destruction, a palace of fire and brimstone for this mute Sith.

HIs head inclined a centimetre, "So it shall be. This man will suffer."

Qaela smiled in satisfaction. It would be good to have his firepower at her side. It felt good to have someone whom she could rely on who was capable of inflicting damage against a foe yet was willing to risk himself for her sake. "Thank you, Ca'Aran," she said in a grateful voice. Taking on a foe as powerful as Ares would be difficult enough, she was truly happy to have him fighting along side her in the upcoming battle.

"I need to get my helmet if we are going to do battle," she said. Now that she had grown a little more accustomed to using it, she wanted the helmet. It might have restricted her vision slightly, but it offered good protection and would allow her to keep in touch with Ca'Aran in private.

She led Ca'Aran out of the outpost and back to her ship. She did note that the animals she had slain were already gone: something in the swamp had already decided to make off with the free food. That was the way of nature, the weak died and served as food for the strong or the lucky.

She winced at tracking mud into her new ship, but it was necessary and she would deal with it later. Despite the situation, she was happy to show him her new acquisition and made a point to tell him that she had used the money he had given her from Cloud City to purchase it. The helmet was in a storage room on the main level and they didn't have time to fully explore the ship, so she would have to wait to show him the other parts of it such as her quarters and the almost blasphemously luxurious refresher in it.

With the helmet on and sealed, she activated the RCAA3 link so they could communicate. On Coruscant, she had the armorer who better fitted the armor also ensure that she could switch off any of the various features that were part of this link as well as set up a mode that allowed her to receive, but not send. It would work with any of the various features it offered, but this time, she activated them all, for Ca'Aran's sake if nothing else. She had her cortosis staff, the lightsaber from Haphaestus, her sling and its accompanying five explosive ammunition, and her Force empowered wooden knife. She didn't know what sort of armory Ca'Aran carried, but if past experience was any judge, it was substantial.

It was time for a fight and as they left her ship, she tried to summon the same rage that she had used before. Though it had great risks, it would give her strength and stamina in the battle. To her dismay, she could not summon it. Perhaps she had simply drained herself too much earlier or it needed time to build up. No matter the reason, she was unable to put it to good use.

They began the walk back to the entrance to the outpost together, both ready for a fight.

Looking over the armor, the evil Sith Master known in all circles, everywhere, as Ar-Pharazon the Golden fastened many of the Ilum crystals into place. Though, he did not use them all. Yet, he was able to use the maximum amount within the sockets. Blasphemous, magical power flowed through the armor. Darth Ares would indeed be happy. So, with an aspergillum made of bone, Ar-Pharazon coated the armor with unholy water.

”œChattur'gha!!! Pargon. Bankorok! Pargon. Santak!”

Ca'Aran grinned softly as Qaela's signature came online. It was good to have another companion within the network, it got lonely staring into blank screens all day. Now at least he had her vitals, and camera to look at. He checked his weapons, making sure they were adequately armed and ready for combat. As well as being properly secured. It would not do for weapons to be suddenly snatched from their holsters.

Sonic, Flechette, Scalp Hunter, grenades, WESTAR M5, it was all there. Including a nice little disruptor pistol he had gotten from his Black Sun mate Terra. He smiled again and checked the network.

As they walked he spoke, "So are you ready for this Qeala?"

Surely there would be something more to do before the fight began.

Ares Grinned malevolently as he approached the finished armor, donning it with tender care. As his hands ran over the unholy metals latticed with glowing red circular patterns and fitted crystals, he could feel the Force much more clearly and succinctly, the Dark side echoing within him like a thousand screams escaping from the lowest depths of hell. He would only add more numbers to those screams, for his master's delight.

Finally he donned his mask and helmet, now fully armored and ready, though he did not switch on the mask's Force-dampening abilities. ((EDIT BELOW)) Ar-Pharazon was resting, so Ares, sensing the presence of animosity still lingering from Qaela's outburst, decided to act upon his curiosities. She had potential, it was clear to him from their interaction on Coruscant, but now that she had discovered how to tap into it, she was still yet an unsharpened weapon. Now that she was working with his Master, it was all the more important for him to ensure she was worthy of her potential as one of the more powerful Sith in her generation.

He readied himself, walking out of the Temple as he reached out with the Force, sending her a series of images and emotions in the Force that would be clear and concise. If you're ready to test your skills, I'll be waiting.

He found a small clearing about a hundred meters from the entrance of the Temple, lined with thick, gnarled trees, and swamp beyond that. It was near the ships, though they were still about fifty meters away. The Force began to flare around him as he fully immersed himself into it, ready for her rage.

Before Qaela could answer Ca'Aran's question, several images flashed in her mind and a wave of anger washed over her. He was touching her mind again, just as he had on Coruscant. She blocked any attempts by him to probe her mind and let the anger begin to simmer in her blood. She wasn't able to quite get to the level of rage she had been at, but the anger was good. Just the memories of him beating her as he did were enough to get her blood pumping.

"Yes," she said over their comm network in a cold voice, "yes I am."

She sensed their target coming out from the outpost toward them and stopped. "He is coming to us. Get ready."

She reached out in the Force to the entire area around her, as far as her mind could reach. She sensed Ar-Pharazon in the outpost, but his presence seemed to be dimmed like it was when he was sleeping. The two caretakers were small blips, utterly meaningless in this instance so she ignored them. The Sith himself was coming at them fully of determination, but strangely she didn't sense much anger or hostility from him towards her. Life was everywhere around them, more so even than what she could feel when she was at home on Dathomir.

This swamp was full of life, large and small, all of it waiting for or seeking for something. Some of that life was seeking the same thing she was: violence and death. Life was dying all throughout the swamps and bogs around them. Death and suffering were rampant in such a place and it was a good feeling for this moment. One of those minds was seeking that very thing so Qaela, with a smile, simply fed that desire and linked with it herself for a few moments. It was joyous to feel another mind so full of primitive desires for crushing and tearing and destroying and consuming. Such raw, primal passion was like a wild river that could overwhelm any obstacle: it just needed the proper direction that she could provide.

Now almost giddy on the destructive potential she felt, Qaela returned her focus to the area around her. Part of her wished that Ca'Aran was able to sense what she felt and share it with her, but that would take time and learning. Still, it was good enough that it got her blood lust up.

As the Sith exited the dark entrance and began to head their way, she could sense the Force around him sparking and churning in even more glorious death and destruction, murder and mayhem. It was time to fight.

She pulled the cortosis staff off of her back and activated its plasma blade at the tip. She had wanted to try this particular weapon out on someone ever since Ca'Aran gave it to her. Now she would be able to.

"Cover me!" she said through the commlink to Ca'Aran before advancing at a measured run. She was wary of her target, but wanted to get in close to spill some blood just like he had done to her. Though she advanced, she was mindful not to get in Ca'Aran's line of fire. She wanted to fight up close and personal with speed and precision instead of brute strength.

((Three post duel: Qaela and Ca'Aran vs Ares))

((1))

Within a clearing in the dark swamp a figure stood, shadowed and dark. Armour of the darkest black clothed his royal body. The man who had attacked Qaela. Ca'Aran glared at the man as he walked with Qaela until he was within range. His boots leaving thick footsteps in his wake. Darkness was overwhelming here, and Ca'Aran could feel it.

His HUD flashed the data from Qaela's armour and he could see her heartbeat quicken, perhaps in fear or rage. The great staff of the fallen Jedi was clutched within her gasp it slowly spun and the plasma tip ignited a wash of light across the dark swamp. It had been his gift unto her, the dark maiden of his life. He could feel his loyalty stirring as she advanced, this man put her into danger. The child, innocent as a budding rose could easily be destroyed by the dark man. The innocent life cut short, Ca'Aran's eyes halfway closed as he withdrew the Scalp Hunter from its position on his lower back. The large calibre pistol was as deadly as such a gun could be. The bullets were hardened for armoured opponents such as Dark man standing before him now.

Bullets sat double stacked within the magazine twelve in all, hand loaded, they packed a huge kinetic punch. That, even if they did not puncture the man's armour, would surely knock him on his arse. Long enough at least for Qaela to finish him off with a stab of plasma. Delta glanced to what he was holding in his other hand, the WESTAR heavy gun looked fierce and deadly. He grinned and brought them to bear upon the target....

The RCAA3 network burst into life with a rush of Qaela's voice. "Cover me!" The sights were on target, and his HUD identified the various body sections that could be potentially vulnerable. He was within range, and that was good enough for Ca'Aran. Scalp Hunter was the first to report. A large recoil, of expanding gasses, and the first bullet sped towards the abdomen of the dark man. The WESTAR was the next to report, and a burst of energy bolts streamed down range to the target's appendages. Another round from Scalp Hunter, and another burst from the WESTAR. It was a true war.

He advanced slowly, in a large arc, to maintain fire upon this enemy of Qaela's. His footsteps planted firmly into the ground, his concentration upon the dark man, the muscles in his arms pulsing and clenching, maintaining fire upon the dark man.

((1))

It didn't take long at all for her to accept his challenge, but she brought a companion with her, something Ares hadn't really expected. Still, he wasn't worried in the slightest. In the few seconds where they noticed each other, Ares mentally assessed the two hastily, taking note of the weapons they both brought to bear and their opening gambit, specifically the one who hung further back and aimed a pistol and a blaster rifle in his direction. They would be no match for him.

The Force surged around him as Ares drew upon its tremendous power, allowing him superhuman-like speed as he darted left just as the man had pulled the triggers on his weapons, making sure to keep Qaela between him and Ares simply to continue making his job difficult. The bullet and blaster bolts ripped past where he had been, destroying a large squat tree directly behind him, the large trunk practically shattering as the slug tore through the tough wood. It was clear to Ares before he even stopped moving the man was his largest threat at present, and he'd need to deal with him in order to effectively handle Qaela. He released his hold on the Force that was augmenting his speed, instead now reaching out to push and shove his weapons before he fired, making his shots inaccurate enough to actually hit Ares as he met Qaela's charge.

The twin lightsaber hilts erupted simultaneously, lashing out at the Nightsister as she neared him in her charge, simple slashes to keep her occupied and working his blades instead of him, not only keeping her at a reasonable distance, but if she was forced to continually attack his blades instead of being able to attack Ares, then it would be a simple matter to control the fight, for the most part.

((1))

He was fast, that much she had to give him. The Sith was able to not just counter her attack, but also dodge and evade Ca'Aran's attacks. She could feel the Force being drawn to him and sought to disrupt that. She tried reach him before he was able to draw his lightsaber, but was not able to do so due to his speed. Not only that, but she found he had not one, but two lightsabers to use.

He kept at a short distance as though he didn't want to get in too close. She clashed a few moments with him using her staff, but heard the sound of splintering wood behind her opponent and saw that the squat tree that had taken several rounds of Ca'Aran's fire was not holding up to its own weight. The hole blown into its side caused it to sag and collapse under its own weight.

With a quick jump back, she disengaged and got out of range of the falling tree even as it tumbled down upon her foe's location. Even then, she didn't think that would hamper him much, so she reached into her pouch with one gloved hand and pulled out two of her sling's small explosives. She made sure to keep them concealed in her fist as she activated them each in turn with her thumb. As she did so, she said through the network, "Using grenades." She didn't want him to be caught unawares and hoped he may be able to capitalize on whatever explosions resulted.

Normally, she would have loaded one into her sling and fired it off, but she didn't have time for that. Instead, she used the Sith version of the original spell her mother taught her to conceal one of them in both the Force and to visible eyes. In a dark environment like this, it would be near impossible to see it with eyes and the Force shroud would conceal its intent and presence. It was a short lasting spell that would only work for around ten seconds, but that was all she needed.

She knew there was a good chance that he would not be sufficiently distracted by the tree and Ca'Aran's fire to miss her throwing something at him, so she decided not to try concealing that she threw something, but merely hiding how many things she threw. She cocked her arm back and threw both explosives””one concealed and one not””at her opponent. She guided them both with the Force by envisioning the two explosives and him uniting as one. She did keep them a bit apart so they couldn't be hit by one attack. Her aim was not for the Sith himself because having a lightsaber slice through them wouldn't do any good. Instead, she was aiming them at different areas on the ground below his feet and was ready since he was likely to evade the falling tree. The explosives weren't very large, but at that range, they would do some damage and hopefully allow Ca'Aran to finish him off. They weren't grenades that had a fuse, either, as soon as they hit the ground or were violently stopped, they would explode.

((2))

Lead flew down range at a remarkable speed and the ferocity of a cornered rancor, and impacted on a defenceless tree where the head of Ares had been just moments before. Delta cursed violently through the RCAA3 network, his frustration shining through his choice few words in Mandalorian. Which, in Ca'Aran's view, had the greatest swears, though Basic had a few good ones as well. He added a few in basic and bothan to add a little spice to the dish of profanity.

Ca'Aran's weapons tracked the man as he moved and when the man slowed to a halt, he pressed the triggers of the weapons, only to have the barrels suddenly aim skyward. As Ca'Aran watched, the volley was lost into the dark Dagobah sky. This dar'jetii was extremely powerful. Having been able to physically grab his weapons and point them away from him. A seemingly simple tactic, that was assuredly a very hard manoeuvre. The dar'jetii was gaining a level of respect in Ca'Aran's mind.

Ca'Aran cursed again, ”œHaar'chak”

Ares had a little time to react as he saw his opponent throw something at him, and an instinctual twinge in the back of his mind told him he really didn't want to find out what that was. He sidestepped shortly to his right to avoid the falling tree, before acting upon his sense of impending danger. Again he summoned the Force to him as he leapt in the split second her backup was changing his weapons, denying him the time he needed to keep up a steady stream of fire on Ares. His legs recoiled with Force-aided strength, hurtling him high over Qaela towards her backup man, who had already begun to open fire. Behind him, he felt not one, but two explosions, and a split second of confidence erupted within him, knowing not only that he had done the right thing, but in doing so caused Qaela to tip her hand.

His focus now shifted to her backup, understanding that he needed to disable the man in order to disrupt their ability to function as a team. It was time to dispense of Ca'Aran's offensive capabilities so Ares could better focus on dismantling Qaela. They knew their potential well, but it was nothing against a trained Sith Master. As Ares neared the apex of his leap, he lashed out with the Force once more, summoning a small Force blast immediately in front of Ca'Aran's chest, not intending to toss the man back as much as it was meant to make him stumble and disorient him slightly as Ares landed. His lightsabers slashed expertly as he came within close melee range, several strikes aimed particularly at his weapons, both the ones he held like the larger flechette launcher and blaster rifle in his hands, but also any remaining ones holstered at his sides. As he landed to the man's front, Ares knew he wouldn't be able to hit any slung on his opponent's back.

The whole maneuver left him with his back to Qaela, though as he began his strikes on Ca'Aran his focus shifted yet again. Ares's senses, at least as much as he could safely afford, were keenly tuned to her movements behind him, fully aware he needed to pay attention to her and keep her in front of him at the first possible moment he was able.

((2))

((The soundtrack for this post: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3wGsVdAlnc))

As it moved through the thick swamp, it was driven by only one thing: hunger.

The creature crept between trees and around stones and through anything that could not stop his large mass. Other animals fled when they sensed its presence, but it did act. Instead, it found a place to hide, half submerged and invisible to its prey. There, it waited until food arrived.

With infinite patience, the creature remained frozen as its prey walked closer and closer. The poor animal, completely unaware of what was waiting for it beneath the murky waters, continued on its business looking for grubs to eat. Little did it know that the grubs would be spared today, but that its life was to be snuffed out by a far larger and more powerful creature.

When its prey was at last too close to escape, the creature leaped out of the swamp. The hapless prey could not even squeal in terror before jaws like steel clamped down over its head and literally cut the animal in two. A few seconds later, and there was nothing left of the forager.

But this was not enough. The creature's appetite was not satisfied: it wanted more. With a reptilian snort of frustration, it began slowly creeping through the trees and fungus and rotting vegetation once more. Then, though it could not comprehend what was happening, something touched its primitive mind. The creature came to a stop and stiffened in readiness before realizing what it was seeing. It saw visions of food. Bountiful food just ripe for the picking. Its hunger, only barely sated by its previous snack, began to stir again. Somehow, it knew that the opportunity would only be there for a few short moments.

Though the connection ended shortly after it began, the creature knew what it had to do and where it had to go. Moving a bit faster this time, it crept towards that spot with its heart eagerly beating for food and carnage. Its hunger was great and must be satisfied.

* * * * *

Qaela watched her Sith opponent jump up and over the explosives she had sent his way, but did not despair. He choose to completely ignore her but had turned his attention to Ca'Aran. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of him killing the clone, but that did not seem to be his goal. She didn't understand it, but instead of stabbing his lightsaber through Ca'Aran's heart, he began cutting apart his weapons.

((done with permission from Delta)) Before she could react, a fiery explosion erupted around both combatants from what she thought was Ca'Aran's beloved WESTAR-M5 as its flame attachment ignited with the slicing of the Sith's lightsaber. The explosion was not horribly large, but it was more than enough to cast the surrounding swamp in light and throw her ally back several meters and leave his armor covered in black char. A small indicator popped up in the corner of her HUD from the RCAA3 network indicating that his vitals had gone to dangerous levels, but he was still alive and conscious.

Before she could react herself, a large reptile monster emerged from the surrounding swam. Her earlier efforts had not gone unrewarded and now she had an additional ally to use against this Sith. He had all but ignored her throughout this battle, and now she would make him pay for that. He might still view her as the same weak girl that he had beaten with ease on Coruscant, but she was not that girl any longer.

With just a thought, boosted by years of controlling animals from small rodents to the mighty Rancors, she reached into the dragonsnake's mind and guided it to her will. Instead of taking direct control of the monster, she simply guided it into targeting her Sith opponent and ignoring both her and the downed Ca'Aran. The four meter long mass of muscle, scale, claw and teeth would not be an easy foe to dispatch, especially with Qaela offering support.

She drew upon her own anger at both being beaten and humiliated months ago and at being all but ignored in this battle to fuel her growing fury. Concern for Ca'Aran spiked her pulse and added speed to her spells. Even though he might be expecting an attack from her, he no longer could just focus on her with the dragonsnake barreling towards him. And, with that new ally, she didn't have to completely overwhelm his defenses: she just had to tie him up long enough for the monster to kill him. If he succeeded against the monster, she would be there to end his arrogant Sith life.

With all the power she could muster, she summoned the Force in a steel fist to clamp the Sith in place and to apply pressure on his body just as he had done to her. On Coruscant, he had inflicted great damage by simply squeezing her until her bones nearly snapped and it had taken weeks and the ministrations of her Sisters of the Night to heal. She didn't think she could do that to him now, but she would do her best now and hope that she could at least get some damage in before the beast tore him in two.

((Citing my setup in the first post as justification for summoning the dragonsnake using Beast Control and noting that she did not control it during the duel, just let it know where to find food:

"One of those minds was seeking that very thing so Qaela, with a smile, simply fed that desire and linked with it herself for a few moments. It was joyous to feel another mind so full of primitive desires for crushing and tearing and destroying and consuming. Such raw, primal passion was like a wild river that could overwhelm any obstacle: it just needed the proper direction that she could provide."))

((3))

Flechettes and blaster bolts whizzing downrange were inexplicably cursed to hitting nothing but the foliage upon the other side of the field. Flechettes were lost as they sought the man, perhaps some had hit, yet Ca'aran could see no visible injury. Like three Titans of old they all battled it out, none seemingly able to land a blow. Ranged weapons, even the ones designed explicably to beat the Jetii or the Siit, seemed to have no effect at all. This dar'jetii all but ignored them. Ca'Aran's frustration grew with each passing trigger pull, his weapons tracking ahead of the man, his fingers pumping away at the stiff triggers of his precious weapons. Canister and blaster bolts screamed through the air with reckless abandon as Ares Jumped out of the way of Qaela's attack.

There was a series of explosions caused by Qaela's grenades and Ca'Aran quickly glanced to the HUD readout. Other than an elevated heart rate, his cyar'ika seemed fine. For Ca'Aran had sworn an oath, no harm would come to her, or the innocent child she now carried. He kept his vision upon the dar'jetii as he jumped, his crosshairs aiming to where he assumed the apex of the arc would be. He squeezed the triggers again, hoping to knock the man from the air, and land him to skewer upon Qaela's staff. Yet fate had not ordained that outcome. A blast of air exploded upon his chest, causing Ca'Aran to stagger slightly, his aim thrown off of the flying dar'jetii. Ca'Aran let a gasp of air escape his lungs and shifted his weight to his rear leg, attempting to bring the murderous weapons back to bear upon the flying man.

Sadly, ere Ca'Aran could skewer the dar'jetiiwith a thousand flechettes and blaster bolts, he landed in front of him. A shot of terror ran through Ca'Aran's mind before he squelched it. Dar'jetii lived off fear and darkness, it would not do to give him more to feed upon. Ca'Aran attempted a tactical retreat, firing as he backed up, yet the blaster fire seemed not to deter the dar'jetii and he quickly moved into the deadly outer circle of Ca'Aran's defenses. This would not end well, Ca'Aran fired again, Yet then the Jetii'kad (Lightsabre)flashed towards him.

The Jetii'kad in all its scarlet glory flashed forth to the weapon in his right hand. The FWG flechette launcher fired another round, then fell under the wrath of the Jetii'kad. It was a futile defense, and with a sharp crack, the FWG was cloven in twain. Molten bits of slag fell as a river onto the dark muddy ground, where it sizzled and steamed in defiance. Ca'Aran tossed the weapon away with a flick of the wrist as he backpedalled, for the canister still within the magazine had begun to go critical, exploding within the chamber and rupturing the magazine.

Ca'Aran continued to retreat until the fateful moment of the jetii'kadslicing into the WESTAR-M5. The Jetii'kad came in a arc through the blaster assembly, resonance chamber , and focusing discs. Melting them into a mass of slag, yet one thing the dar'jetii did not count on was the Flamer attached to the undercarriage of the rifle's barrel. A weapon of more ancient means, a very large amount of very flammable liquid under high compression within a strong canister. Usually, the compressed canister was safe from blaster fire as it was strong enough to take a glancing blow of small blaster rifles and pistols. Unfortunately for Ca'Aran and the dar'jetii, the dar'jetii's crimson jetii'kad was not a simple blaster round. It was a highly focused beam of energy, that was much stronger than a blaster, and it cut easily through the highly pressurized canister.

The highly pressurized liquid escaped from the cut canister in a massive explosion of sticky molten hot flame fuel. Upon contact with the jetii'kad and the oxygen of the surrounding area, caused a secondary explosion at the same instant the liquid escaped. A shockwave tossed Ca'Aran back many metres and left him on fire. It was disorienting to be sure, and the flame liquid burned bright and hot, finding any cracks and chinks where the armour did not cover. It burned through the fire resistant jumpsuit that was under the armour and caused large burn wounds outlining the armour on Ca'Aran's body. Painful blisters leapt up in an instant as the fire rapidly died and burned itself out. Ca'Aran's scream of pain filled the RCAA3 network.

The explosion shattered the ulna in Ca'Aran's left arm, and bit of the bone flooded through the arm. It was painful to be sure. Yet the training that had sustained Ca'Aran until now, kicked in to another level. As soon as he landed from the explosion, Ca'Aran, used his good arm to pull his last weapon from its holster. He never felt such a pain, with every movement, blisters lining his body popped, and sharp tendrils of pain shot up and down his ravaged body. His right hand gripped the Sonic Pistol that he had been saving until now. His final ace, the final card. The other weapons, including his disruptor had been slashed to pieces by the jetii'kad. Though he was in pain, the weapon came up and steadied, this would be the dar'jetii's final doom. His aim would be true, and with a pull of the trigger, sonic rounds, designed to shatter armour, bone, and internal organs lanced out at the dar'jetii. There would be no escaping this time. Ca'Aran was crouched, his one good arm up and firing. The duelling Titans had finally taken a blow, for he was grievously injured. Yet they had an ally, a monster loomed, and when paired with the sonic bolts, this dar'jetii would finally fall.

((3))

((Well done man! This has been awesome!))

((Firstly, I'm going to do this on my phone. Please bear with me, but I'm coherent and have time now and don't want to wait until I'm dead tired when I get home tonight and the ideas aren't fresh in my head.

Secondly, Delta, in my last post I did make the concession on why your shots had missed me, I posted jumping just as you finished switching your weapons, preventing you from drawing a good bead on me before I practically got in your face from above, not to mention the Force blast which shouldn't have even given you time to even bring your weapons to bear as I landed. ))

If they had kept Ares on his toes a moment before, it paled in comparison to the events that now unfolded around him. Thankful to say, his battle-honed reflexes saved him several times over the course of the next couple seconds, though it would leave him drained. Already they had forced him to fight a Force-intensive battle, and although he was trained in his former incarnation as a Consular as well as a Guardian in extensive use of the Force, this was easily nearing his limits.

A single shot went off from the flechette launcher before one of his sabers made quick work of it, but thankfully Ca'Aran's arms were thrown to the side with his Force blast he had summoned previously, and the shot went wide. As the charred hunk of steel from the flechette launcher fell to the wet ground, Ares didn't even pay it any mind, seeing it as no threat as a regular launcher system really had no means of overloading itself, as it didn't use energy cells to fire its ordinance. But explode it did, a small concussion that smacked Ares sideways hard enough to throw him off just a little, his armor taking the brunt of the blast, but it was truly the next turn in the sequence of events that harmed him the most and caught him off guard. Though still being tossed a little from the first explosion, his blade still sliced cleanly through the man's second weapon, but what Ares hadn't expected was the custom flamethrower built into it. The tank ignited in a magnificent fireball of an explosion point blank between the two men, compressed fuel meeting free air and the perfect ignition source singing a harmony of chaos as the large explosion was more than enough to throw him backwards several meters. As the first explosion had been directed upwards, his body was still partially caught in the inertia from it as the second went off, causing him to fly a bit further away, though not by much.

It was midair that Ares realized what had happened, his link with the Force as well as merely seeing the scenario with his own eyes giving him a hasty assessment of the situation shortly before he impacted with the ground, skidding a short distance before stopping. Pain roared across his body, not the kind of pain caused by a major injury, as his armor took the full force of the explosion, more sealed than his opponent's Katarn-class armor, but the kind from being covered in liquid fire and a flame-retardant underglove beginning to melt onto his skin. Finally they had struck at this Juggernaut, they had dealt him a blow that was now, quite literally, seared into his memory. But the game was still afoot, Ares had cards left to play, the entire fight he knew more and more if he failed to act fast, they would easily make quick work of him.

His eyes darted to the monstrosity that now surged from the swamp, its thoughts screaming rage and hunger, obviously a beast sent by the Nightsister, that was practically their trademark. But any beast was a simple creature; small minds, easily fooled. He sat up a bit, drawing on the heat of flames that still covered him but beginning to die as their energy was absorbed and their fuel source rapidly depleting. It was something he had done in the past several times as his Jedi incarnation, setting himself on fire with the Force to reabsorb the excess energy, only this time he didn't have to start the fire.power surged within him, the pain rolling into his attack as he used it to focus on, reaching out into the dragonsnake's mind even as it neared him, erasing himself from it's thoughts. Subtlety and illusions were things Aryian had learned from his time spent with special ops and the Augury, and it was knowledge Ares had retained with perfect clarity, that much was ensured when Ar-Pharazon's geneticists had created him. And now he wove those skills into the beast's mind, making it appear as if Qaela was actually the target it so hungrily sought, a near-perfect replica of the Sith lying battered exactly where she stood.

Again the Force warned him, immersed as he was into it through the feast of energy the now dead fire had provided him, and he looked over to see the other man coming up into a half-crouch, holding what was clearly the tell-tale shape of a sonic weapon. With as much energy as he could muster, he summoned an invisible half-sphere Force barrier about two feet in diameter a bit off the barrel. Of course the blast would destroy the barrier, but the kinetic brunt of it would be redirected back towards the assailant, at the least knocking the pistol from his hands, buying Ares more time to deal with the rest of the situation.

And such it was. The war of gods was no light matter, and Ares, still barely sitting up in the mud, using his pain against his assailants, fought the good fight. This would leave his Force reserves nearly depleted, but if his gambit worked with the beast, it would all pay off in the end.

((Great fight guys.

3))

((Edit: it was pointed out to me that I forgot to mention the effects of Qaela holding me there, though I did remember that I simply wasn't going to avoid it, and stayed still throughout the part of the post after I landed from the explosion.))