Selvaris

[Darth Furion]

Julio couldn't help but sneer at himself as all six slugs missed their mark. He thought his aim was better than that. At such close proximity such failure would have been unheard of in the past. A silent self promise told him there would be many hours devoted to his marksmanship in the future. As his ryyk blade rose in its defensive position to his left, his opponent appeared to perceive it as the major threat, bringing his right hand in to intercept. Only too late did the mandalorian realize he identified the wrong threat, Julio's crushgaunt connecting squarely on the left side of his helmet, sending the unprepared punching bag to the hanger's cold stone floor, sliding several meters in the process. Julio paused for a moment, surprised his blow threw his opponent as far as it did. He knew the hit would be substantial, but throwing someone that distance? The agent got to his feet with haste, apparently completely unfazed by the near crushing of his skull or the small flight thereafter. Raising his E-11, the Mandalorian charged, letting loose half a dozen red bolts into the air.

 

Enh, Shi-

 

As quick as his force enhanced reflexes would allow, Julio raised his right arm in front of his face as he ducked low, strafing to his left in an attempt to avoid the searing hot plasma. One struck the crushgaunt on what would have been the back of his hand while a second grazed his right shoulder. The remaining three flew aimlessly past his head as he moved, silently cursing all blaster based weaponry. After recovering from the small volley, Julio was able to catch the end of the mandalorian's baseless acrobatics, now kneeling.

 

My name is Crosa Hoverich, prepared to be torched.

 

As Crosa spoke, Julio started to move, running at and to the left of his opponent. There was no reason for him to stand still and listen to the fool speak while he pointed a flamethrower at him. Julio was counting on two things. One, Crosa's vision would be obscured by the damage Julio's crushgaunt had done to his helmet, and two, the inferno erupting from Crosa's wrist would mask his movements to a degree. As effective as setting your opponent on fire is, the flame equally hides what you're trying to destroy. Mid charge, Julio found his right arm to be less than cooperative. The bolt had only been a graze, but even a graze of superheated gas had the capability to do rather extensive damage. The limb could move, but not as fast or as strongly as he wished. To add to the damage, the left side of Julio's cloak had caught fire. Feet from the crouching mandalorian, he painfully rolled his right shoulder back, letting the cloak fall off his arm to hang limp on his left shoulder. He stepped in, now face to face with Crosa.

 

The hellfire that was his left arm shot forward, still clutching his precious ryyk blade. The blade slid ever so gently between them, severing the line providing the precious liquid to the flamethrower, showering Crosa's left torso and back in the flammable substance. In the same thrust, Julio's cloak slid down his left arm, throwing itself over Crosa's right arm and shoulder, spreading the fire to it's original creator. Continuing the lunge, Julio buried his left shoulder into the kneeling warrior's helmet, a sizable force push throwing him back several meters. He released his ryyk blade so the cloak wouldn't catch at his wrist as the human torch flew. He removed Rose from her place on his belt to fill his now free left hand, the rich crimson light casting a malevolent glow on his uncovered face. He stood back, waiting to see if the fuel coating his battered foe would spread and potentially explode. Julio chuckled at the thought as he watched the fire rage on.

 

((2))

[Exodus]

• ”œMake it disappear.”

[Dar'Manda]

Beats from an unheard drum danced in the heart of the hunter, esctasy and adrenaline coursing it's familiar path through Canderous's veins, pulsating with every heart beat. Such was the thrill of battle for the young warrior, especially at twenty-three thousand feet and higher into the heavens above, for one mistake, and it all could be over. Weaving in and out around the forces of Tri-Droids and Vulture Fighters was Canderous's prized ship.

 

A Corellian Corvette, she was, and a ship he's had since his beginning in the Black Sun. It had seemed that everything Canderous cherished was eventually lost. First he failed his heritage, killing a man for pure spite on Ryloth. Then the split in his beloved Black Sun. And now as he fired upon his final Vulture Starfighter, he too was gunned down so to speak, his engines blasted offline by another.

 

The ship spun out of control, plummeting to Selvaris's surface with death defying speeds, it's pilot desperately trying to regain some control as it began to enter a spin of unknowing. Canderous's heartbeat elevated, the dive reminding him of his days as a child during field training with old Basilisk War Droids. It's thrill was still better than most. But just as he neared his certain death, he found himself saved, his ship's nose raising seconds before impact as it buried it's stomach deeply into the vegetation and earth below.

 

Everything went black, Canderous knocked unconcious from impact. Sparks flew from hanging attachments, and fires began to ignite from the crashed ship. If it had not been for a fleeing group of the Black Sun who had managed to make it that far, Canderous would surely have returned to the force unopened so to speak. Light began to stir in his sight, the grey aura of the non force users that saved him becoming present as he opened his eyes.

 

Canderous rose, holding his side once again as he flinched with pain from the rib's rebreaking. But this time there seemed to be no internal bleeding. The others had bandage him up rather well while he was out, the distant battle being heard very softly. He had to be at least a good mile or so away from the battle. But he had to go back, to look for survivers, to make sure he claimed at least one of the enemy's lives. Shortly after gatheing his things and thanking the one's who had saved his life, he began the long trek back toward the base.

[Omega73]

Crosa looked at himself on the ground. His armor was burning, and if he didn't do something fast, he would be as well. Crosa couldn't help but wonder how he was the one going up in flames instead of his opponent. Crosa stopped and rolled, trying to put out the fire. It didn't work. Meanwhile, his adversary stood back because of the possible explosion his armor might create. Crosa stood up , trying to locate the source of the fuel. Once he found it, he tore it off with all of his strength and chucked it far away. Of course, Crosa was still on fire and now his opponent was coming at him with a light saber. Crosa just realized why his opponent was so skilled. He was a sith.

 

Just great”¦

 

Crosa launched himself into the air directed towards his foe. The sith swung his light saber with more precision then Crosa expected. The light saber sliced through the armor like butter and cut Crosa in the leg. The only reason it didn't decapitate his leg was that Crosa had successfully tackled the sith. Crosa screamed out in pain. The sith's light saber flew out of it's owners hand and Crosa started punching the sith in the face with all of his might. His opponent managed to get Crosa off of him, and Crosa ended up on the ground again. The mandolorian was so furious that he didn't even notice that the fire had somehow gone out. Crosa grasped for the metal bar that he had dropped earlier and chucked it at the sith, keeping him distracted while Crosa thought of a plan.

 

He could walk, but barely. Crosa got his thoughts in order. He breathed in and out, thinking of a way out of this. What he needed was his courage back. When this man pulled out a lightsaber, Crosa had become desperate. Crosa stood up, fear vanishing. He was a high ranking Black Sun agent, he shouldn't be intimidated by this sith. Crosa saw that the sith had recovered his lightsaber, which was a good time for the mandolorian to start backing up. On his way for cover, Crosa grabbed his E-11 and started firing at the sith once again as he dove for cover behind a ship. He also threw grabbed a thermal detonator and waited until it only had one second until it exploded, then chucked it towards the sith. The sith was fast, but not that fast.

 

Crosa kept firing his E-11, his restored cockiness was welcomed like an old friend. He now fought for glory, instead of fighting for his life. He couldn't help but not feel sorry for the sith, who was soon going to meet his end.

 

 

((2))

 

((Just so everyone knows, this fight is happening before the base explodes. When the duel ends, we will return to normal time.))

[Silas]

Jacen twisted his ship in a corkscrew manuver, angling towards the ship whose transponder identified it as the Arachnid. Dark energy seemed to pulse from the ship, bringing up memories from Jacen's distraught and colored childhood. Before he knew it was was on an appraoch vector for the ship, just a hundred meters out. He began to slow his engines, heading towards the hangar bay of the ship. He broke the shield, quickly landing in the bay as the reinforced doors slammed shut.

 

He activated the landing gear and set down quickly. He left the ship warm and powered up incase he needed to make a quick escape. He double checked all his weapons and activated his scanners, searching for anything that could potentially kill him upon entering the ship, as he had seen so many times before. Since the ship was almost completley droid run it was a high possibility. He felt a presence almost drawing him towards itself. The dark energy seemed to be coming from a singular place among the ship, somewhere on the bridge.

 

Jacen qiuckly shot down the two droids appraoching him, with his turbolasers, that were left in the hangar. He used the astromech droid in the ship he had borrowed from the base to bring up a schematic of the ship so that it would be easily navigated. His scan results came back with alarming results. A deadly mist was floating around in the ship, one that wouldn't have to be ingested through nasal passages, just made contact with, and it could potentially kill him.

 

Wonderful Jacen, you almost got yourself killed. What now?

[Exodus]

”œMy Lord, a vessel slipped into the droid pipeline and has landed in their depot”””

[Darth Furion]

((I don't particularly like it when people post my actions. I'll roll with it this time.))

 

It would appear Julio had given the mandalorian too little credit. He could, in fact, think clearly in a crisis, ripping the leaking fuel container off his armor, throwing it far enough it would be a small chore to get it back. Not that Julio would bother retrieving it. The fuel container had already fulfilled its use. The flaming warrior stood, stubborn enough to ignore his defeat. There was nothing left, no hope. He started towards the torch, lightsaber poised to finish the charade once and for all. Whether through courage, stupidity, or the horror being on fire can cause, Crosa summoned enough strength to charge. Julio positioned himself to cleave the man in half, missing his mark by mere inches. Instead of following through with the swing, Julio had to change his motion in mid swing to avoid being run over by the armored bull. Rose fell from his hand in the grapple as his attention was turned to avoiding the barrage of hay makers aiming to level him. He was able to slip his leg between them, planting his foot squarely on Crosa's chest. With one massive thrust, Crosa was once again thrown to the floor.

 

Julio placed his palm on his slightly bruised jaw, a quick shove putting it back in it's place. Pain shot through his skull, his ears ringing from the relocation. He looked up just in time to spot the metal bar flying through the air, dodging out of the way just in time to avoid a broken nose. Anger started seething within him. The audacity of the whelp! Flailing his limbs like some...some...madclaw! And then the childish attempt at injuring him with the pipe! His feelings for the man moved from contempt and disdain to outright hatred. He was an animal and needed to be put down as such. He summoned Rose back to his hand, warm to the touch as always. He turned back to mandalorian, who was now making an attempt to flee. The fire had apparently consumed what was left of the fuel, leaving only the shell.

• Don't run! DON'T RUN!

It was in these rare moments of unbridled hatred, of an uncontrollable hunger to extinguish life, did the dark side open itself up so clearly to Julio. Everything started to become more instinct than conscious thought. He even felt he could sense what the prey would do before even it did. He felt as if he could see...everything, and it only angered him further. Everything was wrong; everything was weak. His master's magnanimous presence in the sky above seemed to be the only think that brought some control to the storm. As the prey continued its futile attempt to thwart his intentions, Rose snapped alive, deflecting the hot plasma toward what little cover the prey took. Then there was a slight pause in the fire, and he could see it. The orb, gently resting in the desperate's hand, the near silent tick counting the moments until it ended life. It seemed like the prey wished to take its own life.

 

No! His life is mine!

 

Only when the prey started to move its hand in a throwing motion did he know the true intent. As it sailed through the air, Julio outstretched his gauntlet shrouded hand, dark tendrils of the force catching the grenade in flight. With a wave of his hand, the grenade was sent straight up, the explosion taking out a five meter radius of the hanger ceiling. The prey started firing again, forcing Julio to once again go on the defensive by deflecting the bolts.

• ENOUGH!

The shout ripped through both the hanger and both of their minds. He stretched out once again, violently ripping the power cell hanging on the blaster's left clean from its chamber, landing some twenty meters to Julio's right. Rose's blade extinguished, returning to her place on his belt. Julio picked up the pipe lying not far behind him and tossed it back to the cowering prey. Julio summoned his ryyk blade back to his hand. His golden eyes burned alive with fury, his stare boring through the physical realm to the prey's very essence.

 

((3))

[Omega73]

Crosa stood there knowing that he should run, hide, attack, or do something! A metal bar was making its way to Crosa and a trained sith was coming at him with a blade. Crosa raised up his arm to stop the metal bar that was rushing towards him, and the bar hit his arm, falling to the ground. His arm exploded with pain, but Crosa didn't care. He was focused on his opponent, who was rushing at him with his sharp blade. Crosa still stood there. He waited, and waited, until his enemy slashed at Crosa with his blade. Crosa suddenly dove to the left, but amazingly enough, the sith somehow managed to cut Crosa once again in the same leg, but a little lower down. Crosa somersaulted and came up on his feet, running as fast as his hurt leg could mange towards”¦ another bar! This one was a little shorter then the previous one, but it was better then being unarmed.

 

Crosa grabbed the bar, then turned around to meet his opponent, who happened to be right behind him. Crosa swung out with his bar aiming for his foe's head. Crosa missed because his adversary dodged the assault, but the mandolorian brought the steal bar around a second time and scored a hit to the sith's stomach. Crosa swung another time but the attempted hit was blocked by the sith's blade. Crosa understood that his enemy was angry, and even though sith believed their power came from anger, Crosa knew that anger revealed weaknesses. It was a pity that Crosa could not figure this man's weakness out.

 

Crosa then went mad, striking with the metal bar here and there, as quickly as he could manage. Julio did an amazing job at blocking most if not all of Crosa's attacks, but he would eventually get tired. The question was, would Crosa get tired first? Time seemed at a stand still, Crosa was trying his best at keeping the man busy while looking for weaknesses in the sith. Finally, Crosa managed to score his second hit on the sith's chest, sending the sith crashing to the ground. Crosa wasted no time, and brought his foot down upon the sith, not only hurting the experienced villain, but also keeping him on the ground. Crosa decided to speak briefly to the man who was about to die.

 

”œYou may not know this, but you have taught me much in the ways of battle, such as don't underestimate your enemy. But, you have also brought much harm to me and the organization that I have devoted myself to. For that you must face death. Farewell, worthy opponent.”

[Dagon]

Victory goes to Furion, although both parties made excellent posts.

[Darth Furion]

Fueled by the dark tempest itself, Julio's movements were blurringly fast. Between the ryyk blade and crushgaunt, all but two of the blows were knocked away. Crosa had finally given over to his anger, his fear and pain quickly fading. This amused Julio to no end, as it was the very thing he himself was doing. Through shear insanity one blow from the weak excuse for a weapon struck him in the stomach. Julio stumbled back a few steps, the pain only reminding him of his goal. Blow after blow, the mandalorian kept up the fight.

 

He's wounded. He'll tire soon.

 

Another unexpected blow leveled him, Crosa quick to pin him to the ground. Julio's arms were too busy attempting to deflect the relentless strikes to manage a way out of the pin. Suddenly there was a pause.

 

”œYou may not know this, but you have taught me much in the ways of battle, such as don't underestimate your enemy. But, you have also brought much harm to me and the organization that I have devoted myself to. For that you must face death. Farewell, worthy opponent.”

[Exodus]

Consciousness slipped, eyes lulled from half closed to completely shut, living in a state shifting between being questioned, and being hit. His body nothing more than a shell of what it once was at this point, struggling to retain his resolve. It wasn't like this in the beginning, but somewhere in the interim of moments before this he wasn't the prey, oh no, he was the predator. Always being the predator sharpening his fangs through battles, the thought of falling to these people was ridiculous so frustration coursed through his veins mixed with shame like well mixed poison. It was to be said however, Exodus at least expected a response; an answer that would convince him that this coward before him could at least speak in his obvious fear. But, not even a whisper.

 

Two Tri-droids fell from the shadows and latched onto vessel; their pincers drove into the hull and ripped it clean off without hesitation. The man was now exposed whether he understood what it meant to be or not. Like spiders, the two droid machines crawled from the bust transport and hovered towards the presence of the superior. Exodus did not move to abolish the man as he could but instead turned to a terminal that remained idle beside him; his touch awakened the computer as he did so with such calm and unconcern. The intruder could've reacted and contributed some sort of offense, but the toxin reacted too fast to the life flow of its victim and turned him defenseless as if a coma had overwhelmed them. He could die if he suddenly became compelled to react and overexert himself; but he wouldn't be warned.

 

Three shadowed outlines crept into the room and surrounded the vessel with tremendous swiftness; a constriction net tossed out onto the poisoned prisoner and hauled him from his ship for further inspection. He would be pulled and imprisoned in a distinct chamber that could not be escaped in the course of conventional means. The force was void in the lone chamber, and would contain him despite what affiliation he had at his disposal. He was stripped, cuffed and drugged with remedial medicines to battle the deep poison inside of him.

 

--

 

Exodus prepared his announcement and delivered it to Faust--

[Dar'Manda]

((Sure. KVC can mod. I'll go first.))

 

The first few moments of his perilous journey through the tropical like forests of Selvaris seemed unreal, the beautiful landscape causing the distant battle to seem unreal. Flora and creatures of all kind went about their daily lives, clueless to the effects of man ensuing upon the horizon and in the heavens above. This carried an effect of it's own with Canderous, a state of tranquillity encompassing his very soul. Thoughts of leaving this life behind him had often crossed his mind.

 

But could he truly leave the life of a warrior behind him? The future was ever shifting, no one ever knowing fully what it held for any one soul. Such was the way of life for all things mortal. The unknowing was a constant in the tapestry of fate called life. Canderous was a Mandolorian, a warrior bred from birth to be a soldier of war. But still, even old soldiers grew tired of things that would never change, war an inevitability for all races and walks of life.

 

As Canderous drew closer back toward his destination, all sounds of life had stopped, for only the wind lived here among the flora of Selvaris. The raging war had caused all to flee or perish here, smoke rising from the litter of ships that surrounded the Black Sun Operative in the distance, ome of his own doing. He was growing close to the base now, a mere few clicks to the north-east, and even now, the voidful feeling of death and chaos hung in the air. Canderous fastened his pace now, the Blade of Bralor unsheathed and ready.

 

Still the thoughts of walking away after this was present in his tranquil mind, for war had ways of changing men, even a warrior such as Canderous. But unlike any other battle that he had been presented, he would be fighting this time not for anyone's cause or organization. For this time he would be fighting but for one thing. He would be fighting for his freedom to live and walk away as he choses. And nothing would stand in his way of that very right.

 

The Black Sun Operative came to a quick halt, the roar of an approaching storm echoing above at a distance and growing closer.Canderous looked up through a gap in the tree lines, a landing ship becoming visable. It had to be one of the enemies, for no Black Sun mark was present upon it's hull. Canderous sighed, a slight pulse of pain shooting through his side as he did so. It seems he had been found.

 

Canderous charged forward, his charge resembling that of a tiger's on the trail of it's prey. He felt he would win this day, for the war song in his heart drew the beats of a warrior's purest fight. The fight was for survival, nothing more and nothing less. His opponent (Lord Furion) came quickly into view, Canderous relentless in his endeavor. He raised the Blade of Bralor up to his chest as if holding a spear within his hands as his charge went unwaivering.

 

The wind had picked up, Canderous's own silver hair drifting away from him as the current carried it. And even the sun sparkled off the polished blade, announcing his arrival without a word, for words would be a useless thing and wastes of breaths in what was about to unfold. As Canderous drew close to Julio, the blade lashed out forward, followed by a quick slash toward the man's side. Julio would find out one thing very quickly, for Canderous had as much heart as skill in battle, and he would not go down easily.

 

((1))

[Darth Furion]

Canderous came around the corner, sword in hand. Julio found his opponent's choice of weapon to be somewhat obscure. Mêlée combat wasn't normally a big thing in organizations such as Black Sun. They tended to be more shoot'em up than anything else. Black Sun hadn't been known for it's tactical prowess until recently, when Wartide took the reigns. Julio could surmise through all this that since the warrior started off with a blade instead of drawing guns on him, he at least knew how to use the weapon. Feeling the rush of the last kill, Julio breathed deep, closing his eyes. The physical realm was shut out as he focused on the omnipresence that was the Force. Canderous's heart was beating fast in contrast to Julio's. The Black Sun operative held no anger in his stride. It was as if it were just another battle to him. The idea was infuriating to say the least; having an opponent that didn't feel the fight was a special one. Bastard thought he was just another corpse in his way.

 

Julio remained still as Canderous charged, eyes still closed, breathing slow and steadily. As the warrior lunged, Julio made his move. His gauntleted right arm rose. The two similar metals scrapped together as the blade ran between Julio's thumb and index finger. Inches before the tip of the sword would enter him and make his life that much more painful, the mechanical fingers of the crushgaunt closed shut, the added strength the gauntlet provided stopping the blade mid-thrust. Julio's left hand reached behind him, pulling his kerathorr ryyk blade from its sheath. His left leg stepped in as the crushgaunt bent the top half of Canderous' blade at a ninety degree angle. In the same fluid motion, Julio's left arm shot toward Canderous' face. Julio's actual fist was aimed at the mandalorian's jaw, but if it missed, or even connected for that matter, the blade would still be running dangerously close to his face.

 

((1))

[Black Sun Agent(s)]

Talizabeth watched as the base was destroyed, horrified by the distruction. A tear formed at her eye and it ran down her cheek. It was horrible that someone could order such an attack. There were very few survivors, maybe not even a dozen. She made a COMM to all the surviving agents, including those in starfighters to try and protect the medical ships as they jumped into hyperspace. Once the medical ships made the jump, Talizabeth ran towards her ship, hoping she would get out of there alive.

 

The resistance to the attackers had failed, the attempted retreat was ruined, there had been countless deaths in the proccess, and Talizabeth felt completely responsible. Her chance to prove that she could command agents had failed. Not only that, but Crosa had been killed and Silas was now captured. Now in her ship, she logged into the Black Sun database to see what information their attackers had gained. Luckily, it was just a few training articles like how to make a hand made bomb out of bathroom accesories. Someone had obviosly erased most the files in time.

 

Thank the force..

 

Talizabeth started up her ship and took off towards space. She met some resistance, but managed to get through the ships into space. Now in space, she jumped into hyperspace headed towards the revendous point that Blac Sun had recently set up and would have to erase soon. She had left this planet with something that she had not had when she had landed on the planet. A sense of failure...

[Dar'Manda]

The sun held a soft poetic glare as it shown through a small gap in the tree line above, the two combatants unaware of it's natural beauty as the exchange of blows resonated the silent call of battle. Julio held the upper hand in the fight, mostly due to his training as a Sith. But Canderous also held his own, the young Mandalorian full of heart and stamina. Canderous had already made his mind up on the outcome, no matter the winner. He would not go quietly into the darkness of the Sith's night.

 

Canderous was now unaligned to even the Black Sun he once called his family, the organization merely dust upon the wind or a fading memory within his mind since the recent take over. Even those he had grown to trust talked of insubordination and mutiny, and as such, he withdrew himself even further. His greyish aura spoke of his choice vibrantly. But the warrior standing before Julio held his own type of power, the warrior's true power, the power to take and recieve.

 

Canderous grunted as he stumbled back from Julio's punch, the blade barely grazing the skin upon his cheek as he struggled momentarily to regain his balance from the blow. His hand rose to his face and wiped, the feeling of warm blood being felt upon his finger's touch before he shifted his gaze back to the crimson aura of Julio. He gripped the now bent Blade of Bralor and began a second attack, this time keeping the crooked blade's tip pointed toward his enemy's presence. There was more than one way to skin a cat.

 

First he swung the blade backward above his head as he charged, keeping his lidless and cold gaze staring attentively. And as he drew close, he swung the blade back down, making sure to curve it's head toward Julio's right side. But Canderous was far from ending his attack there, for the blade had merely been a distraction for his next attack. As the blade drew near and met it's distination, whatever the outcome may have been, Canderous released his right hand, giving way for his true attack.

 

Canderous held a mid-level proficiency in melee weapons, this much was true. But his true power and skill laid in hand to hand combat, for he had studied many forms during his travels, most notiably the lower tiers of the Echani Martial Arts. Planting his right hand upon the ground below, Canderous used the momentum he had going to raise his form as he brough his left foot up and connected it to Julio's own jaw. Landing back upon his feet, he stepped back, allowing his opponent to recover should he need to. For Canderous never was without honor.

 

"A strong opponent, he is. I may have to resort to other means." Canderous thought to himself, his fist clutching tightly beside him. He lunged forward again, this time bringing his fist upward from his side in an attempt to knock the breath from the man's chest. But there was an ulterior motive to such an act, for his other hand had laid aside the Blade of Bralor, and now found Scarlett resting comfortably within it. The man's blood would have the honor of tasting Scarlett's steel kiss.

 

((2))

[Silas]

Jacen was in shock as he awoke, slowly. He saw tried to move, but discovered he was bound tightly, almost too securely. His eyesight was blurred and he could feel the medications coursing through his veins. His skin felt irritated, his breathing heavy, broken. He could feel his naked body bound against the cold metal table, sending shivers up his spine. He could feel the medications fighting off whatever had infested him when the droids had popped his cockpit.

 

A small twinge of pain shot up his arm while he was trying to adjust himself on the table. He grimmaced, trying to remember a time when he had felt like this. Unfortunatley he couldn't find one. All there was to do now was wait on his captor.

[Darth Furion]

For a moment, Julio saw only the bright blue of the sky. He fell with a dull thud as his body finished the spin Canderous' foot forced it into. He reflexively blinked, momentarily hiding his golden orbs from the world as snapped back into reality. All he could remember was pushing the mandalorian's blade away, then blue. Julio forced himself to stand, his head spinning and his jaw aching. That was twice now he had been struck hard in the head today, and if he didn't watch it, it'd start to get to him. For whatever reason, Canderous had decided to give him a moment to collect himself.

 

Julio took the brief respite to actually observe his opponent. Where had he seen that sort of attack before? That flip was something only seen in a few choice martial arts. Ah yes, the Echani. Odd that he would know the tiers. The Echani weren't exactly known for spreading their art to strangers. What was he? Obviously, a Miraluka from the hair and eyes, but what connection did he have with them? Julio watched the warrior wipe the crimson fluid from his cheek. He had to make a slight effort to keep his face emotionless as he thought of the poison that would soon take effect.

 

It was then that Julio finally understood the gravity of Canderous' species. They saw through the force. To him, Julio was just a black figure with a defined structure. Julio's mind left the pain of the world behind as he focused inward to his very essence. With each deep exhale, his opaque presence extended outward. He no longer let his body contain the concentrated power his training gifted him, instead letting the darkness within spread forth from the carnal shell. Julio stared into his opponent's doll like eyes. To Canderous, what was once a defined, dark figure was now an over inflated shadow stretching some three feet past it's previous bounds.

 

As Canderous lunged again, Julio positioned himself for the attack, now watching his body as a whole instead of just the arms and shoulders. Julio turned sideways to show a smaller target, his gauntleted right arm leading his form. As the warrior's right arm shot up through what he perceived to be his opponent's torso, Julio bent back. He saw the sword fall from Canderous' grasp as he reached for the gun. As the slug thrower rose to take aim, Julio's right arm shot out, catching the gun at the top of the barrel. He squeezed tight, keeping the gun in place, if not pinching the barrel closed.

 

I grace you with a fight and you insult me with this?

 

Julio's left arm shot forward and up, his fist aiming for the uppercut while the ryyk blade aimed to cleave Canderous in half.

 

((2))

 

((Here's the link to the Sith Poison the ryyk blade was coated in.))

[Exodus]

• ”œYou're dying, slowly.”

[Dar'Manda]

Canderous too had been observing his opponent, but merely through out the entire battle between the two. The Sith before him was a strange one to say the least, resorting to tactical maneuvers unlike the Sith Canderous had heard of in his younger days. It was true that he had never actually met one that he knew of, but never did he think he would meet one who actually relied on his brains and not his brawn. For it was Canderous's plan to enraged his opponent into a state where mistakes could be made.

 

This frustrated the Black Sun Operative to a degree, but soon Canderous found that growing into rage. And that carried ill will on Canderous's part. The disease that ran through his veins was a funny one, able to give those of a chaotic mind the power to become greats. But it also carried a curse, one that when reaching a certain degree would enslave the mind of it's host into a primitive state. The key to this was a simple one, for the user merely needed to be enraged to a certain level before all hope was lost.

 

As his attacks grew less and less effective, so did his rage grow at an almost uncontrolable rate. Canderous now fought two enemies, one in his soul and the other in the physical realm. As his gut wrenching puch was avoided due to his sight being tampered with, Canderous smiled, for maybe a mistake had been made. Canderous was also human, which left him some sight without the use of his gift. And upon a certain level of concentration, he had found he could push his force sight aside and view through his human sight.

 

He focused his thoughts despite the poison now coursing through his veins in sync with the disease that corrupted his body. The aura's of his gift faded away, allowing light and shadows to enter. Now the presence before him stood once again in it's true form, just in time for Canderous to see the shadowy fist and blade coming his way. His freed hand found it's way to Juilo's fist, clenching it with all the power Canderous could muster to prevent the attack and potientally break it.

 

Canderous gazed up the shadow's face, his human sight merely reflecting the sight of a diseased ridden old man's. He winked toward Julio, words soon following now that coversation had entered the duel. "Forgive me, for i meant not to kill you with it, but merely for wounding purposes." He spoke before planting yet another kick to Julio, this time to the man's chest as he tried to free him and his weapon from the man's grasp.

 

Whether or not Canderous was freed, Julio had missed one thing. For as Canderous found his other hand free once again, it snaked around and found it's grip on Isabella. Canderous rage was nearly meeting it's limit, the Operative having figuared it's cause from some researched he had done during his earlier days with the Black Sun. And he knew he had not the time he could hope for. Bringing Isabella up to meet the gaze of Julio, Canderous gazed at Julio with an emotionless stare before it's steel kiss was released, it's aim to send Julio back to the darkness from wince he came.

 

((3)) ((Good duel Furion, i had fun. You can call KVC in to mod it.))

[Darth Furion]

Shock and panic; two things everyone has to deal with but never truly become desensitized to. Once again this infamous pair bore their way through Julio's will and set themselves within the more primal parts of his mind as Canderous' hand clutched tightly around his. The fear came not from the possible forthcoming of pain and death, but from miscalculation and misdirection, something he wasn't used to being on the receiving end of. Julio's whole plan had revolved around the assumption that he had stripped this agent of his sight, thereby weakening him beyond hope of redemption. For whatever reason, regardless of his sight stricken and the infuriating concoction coursing through his overworked circulatory system, Canderous had managed to not only predict, but stop Julio's blow. The question was how? The creature before him was a Miraluka, this fact could not hide itself from Julio's grasp, and Miralukas saw through the force. This was something he was sure of. Did the rage the poison released in Canderous' mind unlock some form of bestial instinct of enhanced self preservation? Or was there something about Canderous he didn't notice, or the much more frightening possibility something about sentients as a whole Julio had overlooked? The uncertainty left Julio in an obscure self reflective state. The self imposed distractions proved to be too much for him as Canderous' fist tightened, sending Julio to his knees.

 

"Forgive me, for i meant not to kill you with it, but merely for wounding purposes."

 

Pieces of the puzzle that was all thing corporeal came together as the words were processed through the disarray of the assassin's mind. Whatever part of a human's mind that causes you to make random associations seemed to be working separate from the rest of the portions wrapped in self doubt and confusion as a new train of thought presented itself.

 

So, does that mean he just wanted to incapacitate me beyond the point of being a threat? Maybe to toy with me? Perhaps even kill me in some undignified manner? That would mean he's fighting for amusement and not for his life, which means he thinks he's better than me. That pretentious mother...

 

The discernibly aimless rant of thought was ended as Canderous' foot landed squarely against his chest. His tight grip on the mandalorian's pistol lessened as he fell back, the twisted metal gun landing with a dull thud to his right. With Canderous' hand released from his own, Julio reflexively opened his hand, letting the ryyk blade fall to his left. Julio's life flashed before his eyes as he stared up at Canderous, finding himself not looking into the eyes of his would be murderer like he had always assumed, but alternatively down the bottomless pit that was the barrel of a gun. The destruction of his home, the promises sealed with blood and hate, the trees of Kashyyyk, the sound of echoing footsteps as he embraced his destiny down the shadowed path, all present at once as he looked down that barrel.

 

This is not your moment of escape. You promised, remember?

 

Begrudgingly, he silently nodded, knowing all too well what was left to be done. The sealed oath made long ago gave him focus, meaning. He existed for revenge, his soul at constant unrest until vindication was his alone. Once again centered, he summoned what darkness his will would allow, the thirst for death rejuvenating him. With a burst of the force, he pivoted on his tail bone, his left leg kicking up and outward, pushing Canderous' left arm and the gun out of harms way as his torso and head moved to his own left. Continuing the momentum from the spin, his left foot planted as his body rose, spinning on the ball of his foot. A roar erupted from Julio as the dark side surged through his right arm. He completed the spin as he brought the balled fist of the mandalorian gauntlet around. Anything caught in the path was sure to be sundered.

 

((3. Contacting KvC now.))

[King Kheldar vos Correlli]

Will try to rule on in the morn with an edit unless someone wants another mod- At current tired and probably not 100% coherent because of that.

[Silas]

Jacen slowly brought his head up, looking into the piercing eyes of darkness. He felt another shiver run up his spine, but he wasn't sure if it was from the cold, or the evil he could feel radiating off the other man in the room. His head felt as though he had been hit repeatedly with a piece of transparisteel. He could feel the pounding run through his body, an unstoppable force. The room seemed to darken more as the dark man asked his question.

 

”œI'll ask you one last time, why have you come here?”

[King Kheldar vos Correlli]

Sorry for the delay in getting ot the modding- ended up being offline over the weekend. A very close match. The winner is Canderous starting off with a bang I that carried through for a strong finish. Very good fight & good posting. Furion, by way of my delay, I'd only ask a 2 day wait before recloning & rejoining the RP as it shouldn't have taken me this long to get to this.

[Dar'Manda]

Confusion entered the Operative's mind as his opponent's kick came into contact with Isabella, her polished surface reflecting as the sunlight hit it during it's movement. Just seconds before he had his aim perfect, the target being his opponent's heart, or what was left of it. And now, as her steel kiss hit nothing but air, he found himself unarmed even though he still gripped the gun tightly. But even as Julio continued his attacks, he left himself wide open.

 

As Julio rose, his roar echoing of complete madness, Canderous chuckled. Finally he had his opponent right where he wanted him, his rage the very key to his downfall as it would be for Canderous too, if the Operative was unable to gather a cure very soon. Canderous fell into a half knelt position, allowing Julio to finish his attack as he missed Canderous with the crushgaunt. Canderous followed through, spinning his own body weight as he rose straight up into the air and landed a devastating uppercut with precise precision.

 

His opponent fell unconciously to the ground, the added strength that was Canderous's disease having much to do with such a blow. But Canderous found himself pitying the young Sith, who in truth wasn't but a year or two younger than Canderous himself. He sighed, remember back to the last opponent he faced in battle, and how he cut him down for the pure fun of it. But not this day, for he would let this one live, or at the very least, give him a fighting chance.

 

Thunder littered the air, scrambling the nearby wildlife, as Isabella laid four of her steel kisses upon Julio. Each one was in a specific location, preventing movement until medical attention was sought and some physical therapy endured as both knees, his right elbow, and spinal cord were fractured. Smoke poured from the wounds, the combination of heated steel and flesh causing their typical reaction. Julio was not dead yet, but he may as well have been. He no longer posed a threat for now.

 

Feeling it was safe to turn his back on the man, Canderous grabbed the ryyk blade of his enemy, a trophy if you will, and moved off into the tropical forests of Selvaris headed for the base. But this trek would not be a long one, for as Canderous grew near, he came across one last Black Sun transport that were just about to depart. Climbing aboard, Canderous ordered their departure, and plotted a course for the only planet they would likely find sanctuary on. With that, they lifted off and began their accent into space.

 

Hopefully, just maybe, they would slip by the attackers unnoticed as they tried to exit Selvaris on the opposite side of the planet.

[Exodus]

• ”œThere isn't a word I have to prove to the likes of a rat. It's rather simple however; The Jedi and the Black Sun decide to coexist? So the two pathetic factions will burn as one”””

[Silas]

Jacen fell to the cold metal floor, his naked body already weak from his still dying body. The man who exuded evil had become quiet, pained expression on his face. Something had happened, something terrible. An officer walked in and said something about some system and an invasion. What was he talking about? His captor spoke to him and Jacen listened attentively.

 

"I'll j-join you," Jacen stuttered. "S-something I would love is if y-you would, I don't know, s-save my life. B-black Sun is dead for the m-moment, and we've been f-falling apart for quite a few months. W-what is it y-you require of me?" Jacen asked, still breathing heavily from his condition.

[Exodus]

• ”œWe need to accrue our armies and coordinate a defensive stratagem. Whoever leads this excuse of an association named the Black Sun must draw their numbers and convene with the Hutts first and foremost. From there, the production for weapons and other militaristic hardware should ensue. When all is prepared, we will set certain events in motion but we cannot plan too far ahead.”

[Darth Furion]

It felt as if fire was coursing through his very veins, the unnaturally warm bacta on his skin in stark contrast, bringing the slightest of calm against the burn. At the return of his consciousness, the tank drained, allowing him to breath the dry, hermetically sealed air of med bay. He found his joints stiff, the bones swollen and bruised from the sudden trauma. Naked and slightly confused as per custom of black outs caused by blood loss, his first instinct was to search for clothes. After a brief excursion through med bay, Julio found everything he was looking for in a neatly folded stack on the table, his weapons lying in perfect symmetry next to the clothes. He looked through the neatly arranged pile of cloth, amused at level of thoughtfulness whichever of the master's men had expended in choosing the clothing on The Chameleon.

 

Of the small wardrobe he carried with him on the ship, this was one of the few things he wanted to wear. The pants were long and flowing. At a glance it appeared to be a skirt of some sort. Only when the legs were contorted beyond the standard motions of walking was the separation of the material discernible. Running lengthwise down the right side were light red veins, similar to those on Rose. The primary advantage of the pants was the added mobility the extra room provided. The shirt was equally loose, the sleeves going just past the elbows. This too had a light red vein like pattern running lengthwise down the right side. The shoes were light in weight, the patted sole providing equal traction and silence. To complete the ensemble, Julio donned a massive coat made of some creature's thick hide. The coat was both long and wide, providing comfort much like the rest of his clothing while adding the always welcome ability of concealment. The collar ran long, half bent up to conceal and protect his neck, half bent down to show the slightly ornate trim, also a light shade of red veins. The outfit looked a bit much for an assassin, and in truth it was. Julio had originally bought the set on Coruscant while he waited for his ship's completion. It was intended for more formal occasions under the assumption that he wouldn't always be in battle. He had hoped there would be chances for him to practice his diplomacy, something he felt he was never strong in. Though he was sure he would get some questionable looks, Julio didn't care if anyone but his master objected to his choice in clothing. The rest of clothes had no longer suited him since his ascendancy to darkness, all brighter, heavier clothes, not at all suited for murder.

 

His immediate need for concealment sated, Julio began putting his weapons back in their respective places as his mind began to recall the past events. He had...failed, both himself and his master. He was arrogant, assuming his strategy flawless. He had disregarded the possibility of possibilities and rushed into battle unprepared. How foolish. He didn't need his master's words to cut the painful lesson into his mind this time, though he expected it none the less. When it came time to put the ryyk blades in their place, he found he was missing one. The kerathorr was still with him, but the other was not among the rest of his possessions. He reflexively glanced around the room in the chance it had simply been misplaced, quickly realizing that wasn't the case. The ones that had picked up Julio wouldn't have left anything behind. If they had time to get both him and his ship back aboard his master's vessel, they would have brought the blade. He knew instantly what had happened. That pretentious bastard excuse for a warrior had taken it, probably as some trophy or for his own use. A flash of anger flew out of Julio as he punched the table in front of him, the crushgaunt making easy work of the soft metal. He turned to leave the med lab, eager to vent some anger in the training room before he met with his master. He wouldn't use the force as a crutch again. Instead he would begin to focus on his body's development. He had been so wrapped up in the idea of the body being merely a shell for the soul that he forgot the importance of it. Countless hours of meditation developed the mind and soul, yes, but at the same time his body had begun to weaken. What use is a bullet if the gun is in disrepair?

 

Just before he made it far enough toward the door for it to open automatically, he stopped dead in his tracks. Whether it was the Force, fueled by his sudden self loathing, whispering cryptic warnings or simply his mind recalling memory vital to his survival, Julio suddenly remembered reading the specs on his master's ships during his training on Umbara. The entire ship was covered in poisonous red miasma, presumably to discourage the boarding of unwanted guests. The crew had either acclimated to the poison or wear some sort of rebreather. Julio began to search the medlab. Certain medlabs were equipped with rebreather for the doctors should they have to operate on a patient that breathed different forms of gas. A ship as large as his master's should be fully capable of such occurrences. He found half a dozen rebreathers in a drawer among several other medical utensils. He put one on and stuffed a spare in his pocket. Never could be too careful. Julio's anger had faded during the search. His mind had focused on something else, the feeling come and gone. He started heading toward the bridge, ready to face his punishment. Part of him wanted it to be swift or not at all, his mind trying to trick itself in thinking the failure wasn't his fault, but the other part was almost begging for the forthcoming lesson.

[Silas]

Jacen pulled on the robe, wondering what the dark man was talking about. He gathered his things and was escorted to the surface, where he headed to the remains of the Black Sun base. He sent out a signal of a pre-recorded message, calling all Black Sun bases to his current position. He had heard from a surviving member what had hapened between Kal and Crosa, so he added something extra to their messages and sent them on their way. Now was the time to begin to rebuild and survive.

 

When all the agents arrived they would begin the process.

 

Next he sent out a call to his old droid Savior, who was hidden deep in space. The droid sent his current position and where he would be in a few days to Jacen so they could find him, and what he contained.

[Guest]

The transport extract heaved a questionable deal of resources from its trade planet and on schedule, materialized from the depths of space to confront the planet Selvaris. Buried between its shipments was a man who remained unscented and overlooked from the sensor droids who piloted the vessel. The man who looked as if he was unconscious was a soldier no doubt and held a keener surprise to his impeccable form. The craft discovered abnormal leisure interest at certain coordinates of the planet and chose to detour it with a safer route. Once it touched down, the vessel powered down and awaited its superiors.

 

”œWhere am I?”