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Artus Prime


Tarrian Skywalker

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((Sorry for the length of time. Let mortal combat begin.))

 

The blood of the stormtrooper bathed Atia in a sweet crimson mist, the taste and smell now reaching her senses. Battle was finally starting. No more mowing down irrelevant cannon fodder. Now was a challenger she could enjoy fighting.

 

"Sithy?"

 

Her senses flared as she drew the force to envelop her, pushing her body for the kill. The standard shroud of dark energies surrounded her as she was accustomed to doing before major combat, giving her some form of protection from the more dire of attacks. She jumped over a small mound of bodies, rushing at her new opponent. In her charge, a stormtrooper had strayed into her path. A quick wave of her hand sent him flying sideways, removing the annoying intrusion. When she was finally upon him, the rich crimson of her lightsaber reflected off of Delta's helmet in a sickeningly ominous glow.

 

He was holding a blaster. Such a silly weapon to bring to a sword fight, but it could be annoying if she didn't watch it. Her first swing came lower left to upper right, making the human think quick on his feet. His torso leaned back, away from the blow. As soon as her saber finished it's arch, Atia reached out with her left hand, deep purple tendrils of the force stretching out to grab Delta's right arm. She pulled back, bringing the off balanced man with her. As he came close, her left hand grabbed his right wrist to finish pulling him in. Her anger rose as she thought about what she was about to do, knowing how little it would probably do initially. Her head swung forward, connecting with the visor in his helmet. A wicked crunch could be heard, both from the cracking glass of his visor and the cutting of her skin. A terribly soothing pain flowed through her head. She welcomed it, embraced it, hated it.

 

The force of the blow threw Delta's body back, while she remained holding his right wrist. A flick of her left wrist twisted his arm. She let her arm slide down to the barrel of the blaster and withdrew it from his overly strained hand.

 

"You won't be needing this."

 

There was a small look of satisfaction on her blood soaked face. Hopefully he would fight her face to face instead of resorting to ranged combat again. Guns just took all the fun out of it.

 

((1))

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Torin's hands gripped tightly around the hilt of his saber, ready for any type of blaster bolt or other projectile that may have attempted to enter his realm. The remaining rubble spun faster and faster around his body as his anger hightened. He heard the Black Sun Grunt yelp and knew his adversary was injured. The dust cleared just in time for Torin to see the weakling limp around a corner and out of sight. Even more hatred possessed his soul at the sight of a retreating coward.

 

"Face me like the worthless filth you are, human." The word human slipped out of Torin's lips with disdain for the race that seemed to dominate the galaxy. Their kind was every where, and seemed to feel as if they owned everything. For the first time Torin experienced hatred and resentment for another species, the same as Oblivion had felt for him which had resulted in the mandatory removal of Torin's lekku. Torin had seen nothing spectacular from any human, but Silas's actions confirmed the Lord's belief that humans were meager pitiful creatures not fit for the status which they held.

 

However, something in the Force told Torin that his opponet would not run away forever, but that his foe would attack again. Only minutes passed before the next action in the battle was taken. Torin had not put away his blade, had not lowered his gaurd, and had not dropped his swirling sphere of random objects. He spent his time focusing on the cowardice of his opponet and allowed his disgust with such an action to fuel his hatred. Then it happened, the rubble from the cave in penetrated Torin's bubble immediately warning him of the approaching danger. At first the rapidly spinning sphere of duracrete collided with the falling debris knocking it away from the Sith, but once Torin's shield of chaos was depleted he had only his Force strength to rely upon. He reached out with what he could feel of the energy and pushed upwards with all of his might. Pieces of steel and duracrete flew away from the Sith Lord, however the cave in was not Silas's main attack. That part had been the diversion. The real attack came when Torin looked up and witnessed his enemy diving head first through the floor unleashing a barrage of fire from his two weapons. Torin quickly blocked the blaster bolts with his saber, but the operative possessed something that Torin's blade was useless against, a slugthrower.

 

The shots pierced Torin's unprotected skin and drove hard to his bones creating many minor fractures and entering a few of his vital organs. The pain nearly crippled him as he fell to a knee, but he remembered his teachings. Control your emotions, said Sirvani, and pull your power from them. A hell of a lot of good that has done me. The metal wreaked havoc on Torin's insides, sending out wave after wave of aching blood curdling pain which the masochist quickly harvested and at last let his emotions spill forth, uncontrolled, upon his hated enemy.

 

A fraction of a second before the next wave from the slugthrower reached Torin's skin, the mighty Sith Lord flung his arm and body upwards in an elegant sweeping motion capturing all of the Force powers he could within his confinement. Unleashing all of his pain and hatred Torin shot forth the largest Force push he had ever conjured, shoving all of the rock, the rounds from Silas's weapon, and the operative back towards the ceiling. The rounds from the agent's weapon slammed hard into his midsection as his head collided with a part of the ceiling which had not caved in. The wounded human then fell back towards the ground just in time for Torin to thrust his red blade towards the falling soon to be dead carcass in hopes of impalling the fool which dared to match a Sith Lord.

 

((3))

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Piccolo knew that if he took time to aim for a narrow target, Deton would fire first. He was trained for blaster combat, Piccolo specialized in hunting Jedi. The hunter was aware of this edge on the part of Deton, and he adjusted accordingly. Instead of aiming for his head or heart, Piccolo shot his blaster hand, forcing him to drop the weapon before he could fire.

 

"You did well kid. If you ever wish to quit this job, the Black Sun needs good men. But you can't win today. It takes a lot more to kill the leader of the Black Sun."

 

The hunter closed the gap between them, gripping his palm against the injured Deton's face, and slamming him into the steal wall. The commander slumped to the floor. Piccolo could still sense life within him. Deton was very tough. Piccolo's Destroyer Droids had arrived at last. The cut into the leaderless Storm Troopers. By the time Piccolo dragged Deton's body back to the original scene of battle, the fight was over. Per Piccolo's orders, two Storm Troopers had been spared.

 

"If you value your leader's life, take him out of here."

 

Piccolo watched the two men go, carrying Deton's body away from the battlefield and away from Artus. Piccolo hoped next time he saw Deton, it would not be on unfriendly terms. He would not spare him again. The hunter slapped a bacta patch on his healing knee. He had begun to get control of his cybernetic parts again. The hunter would soon return to the fray.

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((no problem at all!))

 

Delta was shocked as the Sith smashed her face against his Helmet, Breaking his precious HUD and thus ruining his helmet, and the force of the blow knocked him back and he saw stars for a few seconds but her next attack was upon him in no time. A Aitia Grabbed his wrist with the force stretching it out and with a flick of her wrist pain flowed across his arm and his hand spasmed.

 

His Blaster was taken in an instant. But he smiled as the pain flowed and stepped back, into where the ysalmari devoured the force. He continued a half step and as the foce was emptied from the Sith he pulled his hand out easily, without the force aiding this young Miraluca she was nothing compared to the Mandolorian, He was bred for battle.

 

Delta's left hand raised and caught the Miraluca's lightsaber hand as it came down for another strike. He twisted and caught her thumb in a lock and twisted again. He reached out with his other hand and caught the blazing lightsaber as it fell from her hand. He quickly switched it off, and kicked her in the stomach with his left foot.

 

He stepped back again, father into the safety of the ysalmari bubble, where the Miraluca could use no force, not to see, not to blast him with another bloody force attack.

 

He reached up with his hand as he continued backing up away from the Miraluca farther into the protection of the undestroyed ysalmari. He took off his ruined helmet and threw it aside, so he could see her clearly, revealing his young Mandolorian face.

She is a very pretty girl...

 

Delta raised his hand to the lightsaber and with a quick clench of his hand His vibroblade appeared, he held it to the side of the Cylindrical object of the lightsaber and smiled at the girl.

 

”œYou may not be able to see me Miraluca, because of the ysalmari, but you can sure hear me. You broke my helmet, ma'm and you know that is a very precious thing to a Mando. You come after me, or move one millimeter, I will destroy your lightsaber, And you know I will not miss....

 

 

He smiled again and waited for her reply...Waiting and watching the girl.

 

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Ca'Aran

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Darkness. Numbness. These were sensations Atia had never felt before. Her first reaction was that of panic, the total lack of control unsettling. Her breathing quickened and the pain in her forehead less fueling without the force. Her right arm struggled to free herself from the grasp, only to find her thumb stuck under the thick glove of Delta's index finger.

 

Her torso twisted to free herself in vain, her stomach reminding her of his unforeseen blow. She cursed herself for being so careless and pushed her mind to think of a way out. It would appear he truly did want to fight her hand to hand, but on his terms. To hell with that. If she's going to fight, she's going to decide how she's going to do it.

 

The blaster remained in her left hand. Her mind started thinking malicious thoughts. The idea of bringing pain to the man with his own weapon delighted her. She knew he was looking at her face to face now. From the direction of his voice, he was a couple inches taller than her. He was mere feet from him. Her left hand flipped the blaster around, the handle now catching in the palm of her hand. Her finger squeezed furiously, laying down blaster bolts in a random spray. She could hear Delta taking steps back for cover, giving herself time to back out of what would be her death bubble. Without the force she was incapacitated more than most.

 

She continue stepping backward until she stumbled. Vision flooded back. Shades of every color filled her mind as things started coming back into focus. The comforting warmth of the force eased her panic. Now she was back. Now she could see her prey. She dropped his blaster and looked right at him. The very sight of him pissed her off.

 

"You say you want a fair fight while you pull me away from my tool the force and even my vision? How exactly would that be fair?"

 

She looked down to see what she stumbled on. Half a stormtrooper lay at her feet. She chuckled to herself, sending dark tendrils to envelop the half of a man.

 

"You want to play? You seem to have already laid down the ground rules."

 

Her index finger of her left hand twitched, as if pushing something. The safety buttons on the two frag grenades on the stormtrooper's utility belt depressed and gave a beep of acknowledgment. Grenades activated, she turned her wrist to point at Delta, sending the armed body directly at the man. She raised her lightsaber, expecting a spray of blaster bolts to come her way sometime before or after the explosion.

 

((2))

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All the happiness in Jacen's body suddenly vanished as he flew through the ceiling towards his adversary. He felt a wave of anger rush across the room, inspiring fear in all it touched. Bad memories began to filter themselves through Jacen's mind. His childhood flashed before his eyes, visions of the Mos Eisley Cantina blowing up, the Bowels of Coruscant, such a familiar feeling during this time. A final thing presented itself. The Battle of Huuran Kal, in which Black Sun had suffered such a massive defeat. All the major bad events in his life had suddenly presented themselves, but why now.

 

Figures, this stuff always happens when I least need it too, Jacen thought sarcastically.

 

He quickly tried to clear his head as he flew down towards Torin, but his flight was interrupted once again by the most extreme Force Push Jacen had ever experienced. Everything in the Force Bubble began shooting out from the center, including Jacen. He and his slugs flew back and hit a wall. The only problem with that was that before the slugs hit the wall, they hit Jacen's gut. He wasn't sure how the shots had gone from his side to his center during the push, but it didn't matter right now.

 

As he slid down towards the floor, he glanced at the slug sized hole in his stomach, his mouth falling open slightly as he tasted blood. He saw the Sith moving towards him, his lightsaber blaring, radiating demonic heat. As his insides began seeping out the gaping hole, Jacen began to make use of the high tolerance he had built up for pain. During instances like this he had been taught to move quickly. He rolled to his left, moving extremely quickly considering his condition. He felt more than heard the lightsaber hit the wall where Jacen's head had been only seconds before.

 

A quick inventory of his position alerted Jacen to the fact that he didn't have many choices here. He quickly pulled out his second slugthrower, since he had lost the first one in his fall, and fired two quick shots towards the Sith who was now turning towards Jacen. Both of the shots connected with one of the Sith's shins, halting him momentarily, but not stopping him like Jacen had expected. He was probably using the damned Force that Jacen despised so much.

 

Why would anyone want some mystical energy field telling them what to do? There sure wasn't any magical god telling Jacen how he should make his next credit. Though obviously this Force was assisting Torin, it wasn't something that Jacen would have relied on. Relying on something like that would only make one weaker than the Sith already were, especially in Jacen's eyes.

 

As the Sith continued his trek forward, though at a slower pace, Jacen silently inventoried his pack. He had a vast array of weapons, though only one would be prudent for his current situation. Quickly pulling a class-A thermal detonator from his belt, and holding his slugthrower in the other hand, Jacen brought both weapons to bear.

 

”œStop right there. This detonator has a dead man's switch. You kill me, we both go up. I'm going to die soon anyway if I don't get medical attention, so I have no problem going up in flames, and it will stop your invasion. Surrender now, and your life will be spared. If not, you'll die a simple, yet very painful death. This is your choice, decide now.”

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Proud member of the JNET Addicts Club since November '05

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Beautifully gory pieces flew through the air, bringing Delta with them. She stood perfectly still, her protective force bubble deflecting the shrapnel from her fragile frame. Only when that ominous voice in her head told her to move did she comply. She had finally given up arguing with the voice. It had proven to only be concerned with her best interest. And only in the nick of time, it would appear. Delta now held what looked to be some old projectile. What kind, she couldn't tell from this distance. Only when the clack-clack-clack of the gun firing rang in her ears did she figure out the gun.

 

That's an MP5.

 

I know.

 

Looks like he's in full auto.

 

I can see that.

 

It only has a thirty shot capacity with an automatic firing rate of eight hundred rounds a minute. He can't fire for long.

 

She began strafing to the right as he started unloading the banana clip in her general direction. The arrogance of the man. Thinking mere bullets could down a Sith. How little he thought of her. His apparent lack of confidence in her set her mind aflame. Anger, her favorite of catalysts, now began gaining more momentum within her, bringing power and focus to her tool. Dark thoughts threatened to take over as she attempted to dodge the slugs. She ran faster than normal, making obscene distance in short time. However it wasn't fast enough. Two bullets managed to find her left side, forcing their way through her flesh to finally come to rest amidst her ribs. Her movement faltered for a moment as her body stumbled from the new stimuli. They would bleed out. Slug wounds always did; this wasn't her first. She had about a half hour before the blood loss would get to her. Gotta end this quick.

 

Her left hand found her vibro dagger strapped to the left side of her belt, grazing the bullet wounds along the way. Every ounce of pure hatred enveloped in her arm as it cracked like a whip towards her flying opponent. With a roar, she threw the blade as hard as her force enriched arm was physically capable of doing. The dagger flew through the air, guided by pain and anger, weaving between the bullets. It finally came to rest where Delta's right leg connected with the hip, neglected by plates of armor.

 

She continued running to the right, narrowly avoiding the spray and pray chasing her. A meter from the wall, she lept, kicking of the wall, ricocheting back towards Delta. She met him in mid air. Again, she enveloped her right hand in horrendously dark energies. With her lightsaber still in hand acting as a fist pack, she twisted her whole torso in mid air and punched him in the exposed left temple.

 

((3))

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Interesting duel with an interesting end between Silas and Torin. On the whole, a good duel by both parties, though I believe Torin held the upper hand through out. The final post goes to him, though that dead-man's switch will have to factor heavily into his actions and odds of survival if he decides to go for a kill with his post. (Also, for future reference, the range of a ysalmari bubble is about 10 meters, not 1.5).

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The monarch of madness has returned!

 

[Associate of the Illinois Mafia since March 2002.]

[2nd in Command of the Lords of Hate since March 2002.]

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((I'm going on the knowledge that our base's defenses haven't been compromised. So if they have indeed been compromised, please PM and i will correct this.))

 

Exiting hyperspace scanned the planet for lifeforms and unknown ships just as he had always done, his feeling of suspicion holding true upon the computer identifying unidentified ships as well as a Imperial ship being present. At first the former Mandalorian figuared it to be a mandatory inspection of their owned property, but that rang flase upon Canderous's arrival into the base as destruction and debree littered that hall ways.

 

Taking the Blade of Bralor out of it's sheath the laided behind his trench coat, the bersak and phrik blade glittered in the sunlight that penetrated from within the cracks and holes that ran across the walls. With Isabella and Scarlett in their holsters, Canderous advanced forward into the base, searching for the cause of this conflict within one of the Black Sun's many bases, especially with the presence of their supposeded alias, the Empire.

 

Last thing Canderous had known was Piccolo had wanted them to meet him at Coruscant. But before he arrived, he recieved a return comm to the one he sent that thier beloved leader had never arrived and Silas and the others were gone. This troubled the former Mandalorian most deeply, especially now that an attack from someone left it's presence everywhere.

 

Hearing a boom come from a few corridors over, Canderous was left no choice but to head in it's direction, his curiosity of the situation growing by the minute. If any were able to feel his presence in the force, they would indeed know that he was a force sensitive, even him being slight strong in it himself, his Miraluka bloodline giving him an edge over an non-force user when it came to fighting one who uses the force.

 

Coming into the area where the blast had came from, Canderous looked in horror at a Sith Lord(Torin) being present, his red lightsaber saying it all as it dove in toward Jacen. Canderous slightly chuckled upon see his comrade pull a move that would end them both dead should the Sith Lord chose to kill him. Stepping backwards to a safe distance, Canderous awaited the outcome. So should the Sith Lord chose Jacen's death and somehow managed to escape his own, he would then have Canderous to face next.

 

((If your up for another 1v1 modded duel Torin, i'm game.))

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Formally Known as Hunter Of Shadows/Dark

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As his clip emptied, Delta thought fast, He now only had about 60 rounds of spare ammo. He ejected the clip and slapped a new one in as he landed. He observed that the girl had taken at least one round to the side, yet she did not falter, So very strong for a girl.

 

She would be a great Mando warrior”¦

 

As he thought the girl got the best of him once again. A dagger hurled by the power of the darkside slipped through the small division in his armor, though the bodysuit and into his leg, burying itself into the muscle and bone. He looked down and put his hand to his leg and looked down, he could barely see the handle of the dagger sticking out of his leg with a trail of red already running down the grey armor.

 

Oh crap!

 

Pull it out!

 

No”¦it will bleed more if I do”¦

 

Delta left the blade in his leg figuring the leg would bleed less if it was not opened more by pulling it out. He looked up, his green eyes widening as the Sith flipped though the air towards him. He stepped up and his leg collapsed, unwilling to take his weight. But he pulled himself up, tilting his head to the left”¦.and then the girl hit him in the right temple with an inhuman amount of strength. Now a blow to the temple would kill anyone with the right amount of strength applied”¦

 

The force of the blow cracked his temple in a spray of blood from the split skin. The tilt of his head saved his life but didn't stop the damage. His vision went way out of focus, and he was spun to the ground. Landing on his back, his vision cleared but he was left with a splitting headache, not to mention a lot of blood flowing over his face.

 

He looked up at the Girl Sith who was coming back at him with another blow. This time though, he ducked, and flipped her over him onto her back. He jumped at her as she landed so he was kneeling over her with his vibroblade raised for the final blow”¦.

 

He said these final words,

 

”œYou are the best fighter I have seen Miss, and for that I am glad I have fought you”¦”

 

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Ca'Aran

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Piccolo ordered the evacuation of Artus. The Black Sun crews in the mines were instructed to take whatever cortosis was at hand, and transport it to transport ships. The ships were instructed to make several jumps to disguise their route, and head into deep space. As the workers began to leave, they were ordered to place as many remote detonation explosives as they could within key points in the mines.

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Sweet duel, both of you guys. If I may, Delta, from now on if you're going to use earth weapons, at least call them by their physical descriptions. MP5 wouldn't exist within SW, so the name shouldn't act as a description. Try to Star Wars it up a little, will ya? Be sure to proof read your posts too, there were a couple grammar errors. I'm fairly sure they were just typos, but you should try to be more careful of it. I do it all the time, so I try to reread my posts two or three times before I hit submit/stop editing.

 

Great fight all around. Malicious Intent is victorious.

 

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((Fun duel. Hope we can do it again sometime.))

 

"Shhhhh..." Delta froze. Atia's crimson blade slid between them and through his torso, entering at the solar plexus and exiting to the right of his spine. Her left arm reached up and took his head, easing it down as the body slumped. She turned off the lightsaber instead of withdrawing it, trying not to damage the body any more than it already was. He had respected her to a degree and that was worth leaving something to bury. She kissed his exposed forehead and closed his eyes. Back to business. She turned to look at Torin, equally victorious. Before she spoke, her darker half spoke up.

 

Move

 

"Master, we need to get out. Now."

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Destroyer droids surrounded Atia as she finished off Delta. Piccolo was disappointed one of his finest operatives had fallen. But these Sith had come here of their own accord. If they believed one victory was enough for them to escape, Piccolo was going to show them reality. His blaster pack launched him from his victorious battle scene against Deton and his Storm Troopers. The bounty hunter leveled his blaster pistol at Atia, his droids and operatives doing the same.

 

"Not so fast Sith. There is no escape for you. Surrender and you will live."

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Torin was in a seemingly tight spot. What appeared to be a rock and a hard place had surronded him, but he knew of one way out. The operative had forgotten Torin's single and only advantage. It was the tool that had kept him alive thus far during this battle, it was the energy that was keeping him on his feet, it was the Force.

 

He paused for a moment when his apprentice spoke and yet again when droids and another Black Sun operative appeared. The Empire was not far away from winning this battle. It had been fought with honor and strength, yet Torin and his pupil seemed to be on the losing side. At this point there were many onlookers. Torin's next move would surely seal his and Atia's fate on Artus, but his mind was made up.

 

He looked at Silas who still laid on the ground holding his precious device. The operative was scared, but foolish. To think that such a threat would keep Torin from the spoils of war which he craved was unrealistic. Torin possessed the ability to control the Force. The Galaxy was his to do with as he pleased, and in this instance he claimed that right.

 

His body ached all over. Pieces of metal coarsed through his organs, blood dripped from multiple wounds all over his body, and his shins had nearly been blown away by the operative's final onslaught, yet Torin was still standing. He summoned the Force to him casting darkness on all who fell within the circile of Force which he stood. Fear crept towards Silas as the operative began to realize the evil end he was about to meet, yet it was not soon enough for him to stop what was going to happen. Torin's reflexes were too fast. In what seemed like a single movement the Sith Lord performed three instantaneous manuvers. First, Torin's blade removed Silas's arm forcing the muscles in his hand to contract and hold its position on the device. With the Force Torin grabbed the operative's arm and flung it into the air still holding the bomb. Then with one last flick of the wrist, Torin removed Silas's head with his blade.

 

None of the onlookers had enough time to react, not even Atia who had the aid of the Force would have been able to fully comprehend what had happened during that single instance. The speed and precision with which the manuver had been performed was incredible, but the bomb had to land somewhere.

 

The lifeless arm fell from the sky almost as fast as it had ascended. By chance it landed almost directly beside a late arriver ((Canderous)). Torin had not planned for such to happen for he was still not aware of the operative's presence, but when the arm hit the ground the thermal detonator fell from the dead tissue exploding almost immediately. The shock wave blew all of the surronding survivors and their droids off of their feet.

 

Torin fell beside his apprentice, Atia was freed from her captors, the remaining Black Sun employment had been caught off gaurd but remained unharmed ((Except possibly Canderous, I leave that open to you)), and the Sith had a small window for escape.

 

"Let's get out of here," Torin said to his apprentice as he started to rise to his feet, ready to limp back to his ship. He would return and claim this land as Sith territory, but today was not the day.

 

((Pic, if you still want to stop us that's fine. Personally I would enter a 2v1 or 2v2 duel against you by yourself or you and Canderous vs Atia and me, but I would rather leave. I won't promise not to return, but I think for character development leaving is best. I'll leave that up to who can post next, You or Atia.))

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Piccolo was thrown backward from the shock of the attack. He had not expected Torin to rise so quickly from such severe injuries. The shock wave stunned him, even through his armor. But the hunter had no intention of leaving empty handed. He rolled on to his side, his grappling hook extending from his arm, around the legs of the injured Torin. Piccolo retracted the cord, sending volts of stunning electricity through Torin's body.

 

(A duel or something is find. But I can't end this without a prize, Pic needs a prisoner.)

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Just as he rose to his feet and thought he was on his way to escaping, Torin fell forward dropping a datachip intended for his apprentice.

 

"Go to Domonique," he yelled just before electricity surged through his body knocking him unconcious. It was remarkable that he had not already entered such a state with the wounds he had suffered, but the volts of energy were finally enough to stop the Sith Lord's war path.

 

((OK, Atia, I am going to stay as Pic's prisoner. Escape if you can.))

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Atia caught the chip and stood momentarily, watching her master get ravaged by current after current of electricity. She had to stop herself from lunging after his assailant, but she had been given an order. This was more important than her needs. Something about this seemed horrible.

 

You're just going to leave him behind? After he saved you?

 

She looked into Torin's eyes. Seeing the pain and defeat of captivity within. He had taken her fate. It wasn't fair.

 

It's just like before. Remember his face then? Lying lifeless on the floor? You did the same thing then.

 

Shear, unadulterated self loathing found her way to Atia. What she was doing, what she had to do, was frankly despicable. The thought of Torin beaten and broken in a force cage wouldn't leave her mind.

 

She turned to walk away. Before she walked up the ramp, she stopped. Quietly she whispered. Partially to herself, but mostly sending a force message to Torin.

 

"I'll not leave you to become a prisoner."

 

Her mind stretched out to the fallen bodies of the stormtroopers surrounding Torin and Piccolo. Hidden tendrils only those gifted with force sight would see outstretched from her, making their way to the grenades resting on the dead. Roughly a dozen grenades surrounding the two were armed. An array of beeps sounded off in unison as she boarded the ship. If she had to leave him, it wouldn't be for the sadistic pleasure of others. She left the system without looking back.

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Crosa's ship sped into sace towards Artus, landing as fast as he could manage, and plenty far away from the battle. After he had jumped out of the cockpit he regarded his R9 unit still in the back of his ship.

 

"You know what to do R9. Take this ship to some far planet in the outer-rim and stay there until I contact you. It could be months, so keep this ship and yourself in good condition. Good luck."

 

With that the droid launched the ship into hyperspace. Crosa sighed, it was a pitty that he would have to let the ship go after all this time. But he had to make sure that the empire was not tracking or bugging him. Crosa sprinted over to the nearest agent, who was evacuating just as the other agents were.

 

"You there, I need a quick, but thorough, scan of my arm to see if anything... unwanted is in my arm"

 

The agent, who seemed to be new, looked at him questionaly.

 

"Just do it."

 

While the agent was running a scan, Crosa COMMed Piccolo.

 

------------------------

 

Hey there, Piccolo. Just got back from an erand for Jacen. I need to speak to you and the rest of the Vigo's sometime soon, because I have a message from the empire for Black Sun. Meanwhile, if you need my help for anything, just send me a COMM. Crosa out.

 

---------------------------------------------

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((I'm going to try something here, though it may not work. It seems plauisable to me from what i've read up on TD's and such, but i never was good with grenades. ))

 

Even though Torin may have not felt Canderous, even with the former Mandalorian being force sensitive from his Miraluka heritage, but Canderous had the perfect view of Torin and what was happening. As Canderous watched in the split second the arm was sliced and thrown his way, he had just enough time to try and make an escape himself just as it entered the air.

 

"Oh Sithspit" was all Canderous could muster as he turned to run and upon viewing a small slab of duracrete a few feet away, he lunged forward for it, the thermal detonater landing and blasting seconds before he neared the slab, it's heat blazing harshly upon it's heels as he dove in behind the slab. Though the slab took most of the heat and explosion off of Canderous, it still indeed did it's damage.

 

The slab cracked and fell where it had been held up against the wall slightly after Silas had came through the floor above, it falling slightly upon Canderous despite the former Mandalorian's disease taking hold and giving him the added strength to hold it up.

 

Feeling the pain and strain as he tried to keep the slab from crushing him during the blast, Canderous still felt the three ribs crack underneath his skin. With sweat beading down his face and his breathing quickening, he gathered just enough strength to slide out from underneath the slab moments after the blast. Standing and looking around, Canderous looked in dismay at the death and destruction their now former allies had inflicted upon their mining home. Still he could not understand why the Empire and Sith had attacked Artus, but this would not go without punishment.

 

Canderous had only lost his temper but a few times in his life, and this was indeed one of those times. Holding his left side where the three ribs were cracked, he took off down of the halls where the Sith had ran toward, all the while hoping he would have his chance to extract revenge for this unworthy crime.

 

And indeed, it seemed he would have it as he turned the corner to view Piccolo and the Sith Lord ((Torin)), the distant beeps of more possible explosions echoing around them. Canderous would not have this, him being the lone survivor of Artus, nor would the Sith recieve his death just yet. But what could he do? Looking around he saw exactly what he could indeed do, and just maybe, he could possibly save Piccolo and the prisoner's life.

 

Grabbing one the remaining concussion grenades that laid upon a fallen Black Sun operative, Canderous set it to sonic and threw it into the center of the beeping grenades. The blast would send both Piccolo and Torin out of harms way, or atleast for the most part. Grabbing a Ysalamiri pack from a fallen operative as well as stun cuffs, as soon as the blasts rang out, Canderous was on Torin, placing both upon the Sith during his stunned state.

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Formally Known as Hunter Of Shadows/Dark

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Piccolo shielded Torin's injured body, his armor protecting the vulnerable Sith as Canderous knocked them clear. The hunter felt the stabbing pain of shrapnel imbedding itself in his body before everything went black.

 

Dishonorable Sith . . .

 

Piccolo awoke only seconds later. He was still alive, for now. But that didn't necessarily mean anything. He carefully looked down fearing impalement. He breathed a heavy sigh. There was blood, but the wounds were minimal. Many tiny pieces of metal had penetrated the open spots in his armor. But they were not serious wounds. Piccolo was thankful for the intervention of Canderous. He had had only seconds to escape the attack. At best, he could have used his blaster pack, but still been severly injured.

 

The Sith!

 

Piccolo remembered Torin. The man was unconscious and hurt, but still alive. He had not been hit by the debris. Piccolo quickly injected Torin with a heavy sedative and stripped him of visible weapons. Piccolo gave orders with as much speed as he could muster.

 

"Canderous, get yourself out of here, take care of your wounds and rendezvous with the rest of our forces in deep space. Disguise your location. Crosa, transmit the message to the holonet. I will read it there. There's no need for secrecy with that and you won't be able to contact me for a while. Then get on a transport and join Canderous. I think it's best you don't use your ship. Move quickly. I will be gone for a few days, but I will join you when I can. We can never return here again."

 

Piccolo dragged Torin into the Scorekeeper, ordering his droid to take care of Torin's wounds, enough to keep him alive at least. Though the man was injured, Piccolo still bound him with his personally crafted wire. The hard metal was designed to squeeze tighter the more a person moved. It wouldn't be fatal, but it would be very painful. He made sure to keep Torin drugged. He took several ysalamiri from the base as well, loading the rest onto the last transport. The hunter had to be careful to keep his pet vornskyrs locked up when he carried the ysalamiri into his ship. They were natural enemies. As Piccolo took off, he detonated the charges within the mines. The Empire would rebuild them, but it would take time. He personally kept watch on Torin, allowing the ship to pilot itself, making several jumps before heading for an untraceable location. The rest of the transports fled as well, disguising their jumps before heading to the rendezvous. He left one last comm.

 

"Don't delay. Get out of here now. Disguise your location carefully. We have paid a heavy price, but it will now be worth it. You have both done well."

 

(Crosa, just post Faust's message here before you leave, you don't have to put it in the Holonet thread. You can if you want, though it doesn't matter.)

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Crosa listened to Piccolos orders and jumped into action. He immediatly transmited the message to the holonet..

 

----

 

Crosa to Piccolo

 

I have a message from the Empire. They say that the the Empress will want to see you Piccolo, in person, to discuss what can be done to make amends. The officer, who I believe to be named Vladimir Faust, put it 'no revenge, no bang-bang, and we can lick our wounds in peace'. The decision is up to you Piccolo.

 

Crosa Out

----

 

With that Crosa started to board one of the last black sun ships evacuating, but before he could he spotted a body, in mandolorian armor.

 

Oh No...

 

Crosa sprinted towards the fallen form of Delta73. Quickly, Crosa took a sample of the mandolorian for cloning, then took the armor off of his old friend. Delta would need it later. It was too bad that Crosa could not bury the dead man.

 

After giving a final salute, Crosa ran back into the ship which was about to take off, and approached a Black Sun agent who seemed to not have anything to do.

 

"You there. Here are some clone samples for one of our agents. I want you to clone him ASAP and give him this..."

 

Crosa handed the agent Delta73's armor. The Black Sun Agent nodded then walked off. With that done, Crosa sat down and started putting bacta on his wounds..

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((Omega73, since you did not state where your character was exactly, i'm asking that you just roll with Canderous's punches here.))

 

Just as Piccolo took his leave for his own ship with the Sith, Canderous took his own as well. But first, he had a certain item to recollect among other things. Passing a few Operatives still among the living, Canderous ordered them to take what cortorsis the Black Sun still owned with them. They gave a nod, letting him know they would indeed do as they were ordered, and Canderous took off once again.

 

Returning to where Jacen's body now laid in many pieces, Canderous leaned down, the painful sensation of the cracked ribs nearly unbearable to be placed in such a position, and grabbed the Blade of Bralor, placing it back within it's sheath. It was now time to get the hell out of dodge as Canderous knew it wouldn't be long before Piccolo destroyed what was left of their once alliance with the Empire.

 

Slightly running to his ship, his breathing still heavy from the pain he was under, Canderous came across another fallen form, this one collectable unlike Jacen's was. Canderous at first did not recognize Delta's body without the Mandalorian Armor he had always wore, but it soon dawned on him who it was exactly. Stooping down, he placed the dead body upon his right shoulder and began walking toward his ship's location.

 

Had it not been for Canderous's unnatural strength, the dead weight of the body may have been overbearing, especially with Canderous in his condition. But soon even that became unbearable as the floor begin to shake underneath him from the blasts that exploded within the mines. Beginning to fasten his pace to a run, Canderous finally arrived at his ship and placed the body of Delta within the door before he noticed Crosa just outside another transport, the one being loaded with cortorsis ore.

 

Running over and collecting Crosa as well, Canderous took off back to his ship for the the last time, the eruptions of the base now beginning to erupt from underneath it's surface. The only reason Canderous had collected Delta's body was, though he was no longer a Mandalorian because of his defeat at Ryloth, he was still not without honor. And the Black Sun never leaves a man behind unless there's no other choice.

 

Lifting the ship off the ground just seconds before the blasts erupted underneath them, Canderous shot the now shaking corvette into Artus's outer atmosphere, the Cortorsis mines exploding in a horrific, and yet, beautiful display of firework like explosions behind them. This would indeed be the last time they ever returned to this place. Disguising their destination ahead of them by preparing several jumps and using the necessary security precautions, they hit hyperspace.

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Formally Known as Hunter Of Shadows/Dark

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A lone Star Destroyer laden with supplies entered the system. At the helm was a Sith Lord known as Viktor. He kept watch over the men operating the large ship as they moved into orbit around the place. Black Sun had only recently abandoned it, leaving their Cortosis mines in shambles. It was a pity that they felt the need to abandon this place, but a great boon to the Empire that they did.

 

Several shuttles were sent down to the surface to begin working diligently on the Cortosis operation. It would take a while to get it functional again. Several other shuttles descended as well, carrying crews and supplies down to create a make-shift base. The Empire didn't plan on making their presence here a prominent one, just enough to have a fully functional mining operation.

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Viktor finished the inspection of the mines. They had been checked over for any remaining explosives, a few being found and removed, and then completely rebuild. The efficiency level was double that of what Black Sun was putting out, since they had the chance to completely redesign and update the system that was used. After putting a commander in charge of the small outpost and giving out the details of when the shuttles would arrive for a pick up of Cortosis each week, Viktor took his leave. The lone Star Destroyer that had brought him to this planet was left behind to keep it safe.

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  • 1 month later...
  • 3 years later...

The Sith master arrived in the atmosphere, trailing behind him enough fire power to level most if not all opposition. His intention was clear. Secure the Cortosis mining operation.

 

His assault on the facility was as strategic as it was vicious. It would not help after all to damage the mines themselves. Deploying two ships as bombers, the other three A-19C Ghostriders defaulted to the roles of protecting their fellows.

 

The Sith master was leading his own personal charge however. He would secure the facility through a combination of stealth and brute force. Any who would oppose him, would feel the deadly sting of his twin blades.

 

This operation would be for all intents and purposes his!

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  • 3 years later...

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

These were the sounds that finally woke him from his slumber. Without opening his eyes, he groaned in pain, feeling like he’d been tossed out of a spacelock and fallen all the way to the ground. He hurt, badly.

 

Wait a flamin’ minute. Why do I hurt so much?

 

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

He opened his eyes, and wished he hadn’t. The light was bright, and the room was a mess. As he tried to move, he found that it was harder than he thought it would be, harder than he remem….

 

Stone the flamin’ crows. I don’t remember shit! Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap….I can feel tubes coming out of my body including…oh that’s just great…they stuck a …thing….in my….

 

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

Shit. What’s it called? I can’t freaking remember. Wait..what do I remember?

 

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

I’m lying down, I’ve got tubes coming out from all over my body *sniff sniff* oh wow, something stinks, the room I’m in is a mess…But that’s it…shit….what’s my name?

 

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

Blackness washed over him as he passed out again from the shock.

 

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

It was some time before he awoke, the already weakened body suffering from the shock of not being able to remember his own name.

 

“Oh man, my head hurts. What the hell happened?”

 

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

Opening his eyes properly for the first time in the author only knows how long, he took in his surroundings. Looking down, there was something covering his lower half, though he could feel things sticking into him at various points. There were various tubes sticking out of his arms and hands, taped on to keep them there, and he could see the machine where that author-awful noise was coming from.

 

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

The walls were white, mostly. There were black marks scattered around them, and the door was hanging from its frame, with a gentle breeze blowing leaves and papers in a small swirl around the floor.

 

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

“Hello, Is there anybody out there! Just nod if you can hear me! Is there anyone home?

 

Just nod if you can hear me? What the hell have they been pumping into me?

 

He listened intently, wondering if maybe that oddity of his words would attract any attention.

 

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

It didn’t sound like there was, in fact, anybody home.

 

Damn. Righto then McGyver, you’ve been in worse situations.

 

Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr Beep shhhhhhhhhh whhhhhirrrrrr

 

McGyver?! Where the bloody hell did that come from? Who’s McGyver? Goddamit.

 

With a grimace on his face, he slowly pulled the tape away from the various tubes sticking out of his body, and slowly removed them hoping that nothing he did would kill him. Suddenly the beeping stopped.

 

Shit. Am I dead? He wondered as he stayed frozen in place where he was. Suddenly he breathed in, not realising he’d been holding his breath.

 

Thank the drongos for that. I’m still awake.

 

Having gradually removed all of the tubes from his body, and feeling slightly violated, he lay down, feeling exhausted.

 

I need a good feed. Some greasy ribs and chips would be good about now.

 

Night came, and he slept soundly, perhaps more soundly than anytime during his coma, as it was a natural sleep and not the result of a coma. The next morning, he awoke, feeling really hungry and suddenly being aware of a horrid stench in the room. He tried to sit up and realised what the stench was, his facing turning an even pastier shade of ash. Slowly moving to a sitting position, his feet resting on the ground, he tried to stand up, and failed, his muscles not responding to his commands.

 

Hmm…how long have I been out of it for this to happen? I can feel my feet resting on the ground, but they won’t move.

 

Gradually, with time and a conscious effort, he found that he was able to stand and shuffle very carefully to the door. Holding on and stopping a moment to catch his breath, he realised from the fresh air he could on his backside, that he needed a wash and some clothes. Walking out the door, he wondered which way to turn.

 

If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose.

 

Shaking his head in disbelief, he muttered to himself as he turned to the left, as the air didn’t smell so foul that way.

 

“Where do these thoughts keep coming from?”

 

Continuing out the door and moving slowly down the corridor, keeping one hand on the wall, he wondered at the utter silence. It wasn’t natural. Moving on, he came to a metal door that was battered and bruised, covered in strange black marks and dents all over it.

 

“Í wonder what’s on the other side of that door?”

 

“Voice recognition successful. Access granted” he heard as he felt a rumbling coming through the floor as the door started to slowly open with a screeching sound that hurt his ears.

 

What the hell? Maybe there’ll be someone in here.

 

Once the door was open, he was confronted with a sight that he didn’t know what to make of. The room appeared to be circular, with a depressed circular section in the middle, with a rail around it, and some sort of equipment all around the walls. The room smelt acrid, as if the air itself had been burned, and he realised that there were people lying on the floor, and paper’s scattered everywhere, with the same black marks everywhere on the floor and on the equipment, with the equipment having holes across much of it.

 

“Well Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

 

He suddenly chuckled, realising that he’d something that made no sense, again, but deciding to just accept that it was something he’d need to deal with eventually. It didn’t seem to be dangerous, at the moment, but he’d need to address it sometime. Moving around the room, he looked at the bodies and the equipment, trying to make sense of it, until he came to a piece of equipment covered in dials, and a series of gashes that made a circle somehow, and a pipe sticking up out of it, with the same circular-gashes pattern in the end of it.

 

Suddenly, he feel to the floor, gripping his head and writhing around in agony as his muscles spasmed painfully.

 

“Aaaaaaagh it hurts! It’s over nine thousand!!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!”

 

Slowly, the pain subsided, leaving him whimpering softly on the floor, curled up into a ball continuing to shake as his muscles spasmed softly. Ever so slowly, the pain subsided, and his muscles stopped spasming, leaving him feeling sick and weak. Eventually, he fell asleep there on the hard floor. He awoke with a whimper, remembering the incredible pain of the previous day.

What the hell was that?

 

Slowly pulling himself up off the ground, using the equipment he had fallen in front of to help him, he stood, panting, bracing himself against the machine in front of him as he gathered his energy and tried to focus to work out what to do next. He looked at the equipment and realised that it was somehow undamaged.

 

It still has power to it, too he thought before wondering how he knew that. He continued to look at it and realised that he knew what this was and how to use it.

 

“It’s a comm system! I can use it to try and get help.”

 

He got excited, knowing that this could be his way to get out of here, get cleaned up and find out what was going on. His hands ran comfortably over the control panel, turning it on, and setting it up to send out a general signal to anyone in range.

Sighing, he nervously pressed the transmit button and took a deep breath to begin his call for help.

 

“Hello, Is there anybody in there! Just nod if you can hear me! Is there anybody home? I need help. We had a slight weapons malfunction, but uh…everything’s perfectly all right now. I just need help.”

 

Oh man, that made no sense whatsoever.

 

“Anyone listening, this is an emergency, I need help. I don’t know where I am, and someone let the bodies hit the floor, and I don’t know what’s going on.”

 

He stopped, realising there were tears in his eyes.

 

“Help me someone, you’re my only hope.”

 

OOC: I'm baaaack.

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  • 2 weeks later...

A medical shuttle sporting the Black Sun emblem landed as it had many times before in the docking bay of the base at Artus Prime. This time was different though. Debris lay strewn about, evidence of the fighting and bloodshed that had occurred there. As the shuttle touched down its ramp began to lower and out rushed four armed security personnel, escorting a med-evac chamber. They all wore the same emblem as the ship.

 

They moved efficiently through the building, clearing each room that they came to until at long last they reached the comm center. There they found a man, obviously in distress, leaning on what appeared to be old and very much destroyed comm equipment.

 

"Sir, are you hurt?"

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