Selvaris

[Delta73]

Delta bowed to Nephelim showing that the duel was over, he walked to the medical facility, got a bandage on his shoulder and saught out Piccolo...

 

As he approached he could feel a slight vibration in the air, one of darkness, he had not felt such a feeling since his last encounter with Sith. His walk progressed into a run as he made his way towards were the computer had said Piccolo would be. He rounded a corner and stopped, there appeared to be three sith standing near Piccolo, two women and one man. Deltas hands dropped to his blaster as he approached. As he got nearer he saw they appeared to be on friendly terms so his hands dropped off his blasters and he approached Piccolo. He bowed to the Sith women and to the man, he spoke to Piccolo...

 

"Sir, do you need my assistance on this mission?"

[Omega73]

Crosa approached his friend, Delta, who had just finished up his duel with Nephelim. Crosa stood beside Delta as he spoke to him in muttering sentences.

 

"Ah, I see you have met our guests... Jacen seems to be quite fascinated in them. Or at least one of them... Luckily for us, they happen to be on there way out. I've never been so glad to see a Rebel Officer."

 

Crosa had no idea who had contacted Piccolo, all he knew was that the person was a high ranking officer in the rebel alliance.

 

"And since when do we agree with the Rebels? I mean, we weren't exactly close after Dubrillion happened. Seems to me like were the same Black Sun we always have been, switching alliances to best suit our interest."

 

He didn't know why, but Crosa made a grin when he spoke of Black Sun. Probably because he didn't have to call it Black Nebula or some hogwash name.

 

Criminals are who we are by nature. Not sodiers as Piccolo would like to believe. He is going to have to accept that sooner or later.

[Silas]

Jacen nodded politley in Alora's direction, keeping Piccolo's words close at hand. He too was quite interested in what was to come of the comm that Piccolo had recieved, but that would wait. He leaned in closer to Piccolo and began muttering.

 

"I'm going to put into action the plans that were discussed earlier. I'll return soon hopefully. Good luck on Gala."

 

With that Jacen headed to the ship he had been using and began the pre-flight check.

[Piccolo]

"Yes Delta, we will all be going very soon. But it would be impolite to discuss business until our guests have departed. I don't want to be rude."

 

The hunter of course, cared little about such things. But he wanted to make it clear there was need for secrecy. Piccolo would never have let these Sith leave without at least asking them more questions under normal circumstances. The fact that he had asked them to leave himself should have signaled he had been given a very grave message.

[Dar'Manda]

Canderous remained quiet for some time, his conscious tangled and twisted among the words the Sith had spoken. It was true he knew most of what Draken had spoken, even the spiritual wounds to a degree. But not everthing could be seen, as it could all be hidden from even Canderous's line of sight should one's power be strong enough. Canderous stepped forward, offering his hand to the man.

 

"It is not everyday you meet a being with such knowledge." Canderous spoke. "I am surprised to meet a Sith who has done his homework. But to answer your question.... Yes, one of my race or one trained to master such sight, can indeed see such things, though as rare as it may be known."

 

But by now, Piccolo had graced their prsence with his own, speaking of both party's departures. Canderous sighed slightly, his body feeling weary and drained from the past few days with what little sleep was acting upon. He turned his gaze back to Draken. "Well this where we depart for now Sith. But i have a feeling our paths may cross again. Until next time..."

 

Canderous stood, moving toward his own ship after those words. He wouldn't have minded a few moments with the Sith, possibly even learning to further his gift of sight. But fate seemed to always have a different plan in mind, whatever this meeting was for. Grabbing his comm unit, he left simple words for Piccolo as he boarded his ship. "Ready when you are."

[Nephilim]

The pain in his stomach was nothing compared to what he had felt before. The blood slowly oozing from him was only a fraction of the blood he had lost on previous hunts. Giving a slight nod to Delta, Nephilim allowed himself to be patched up by several medical droids. Once he had been healed, the hunter calmly walked towards Piccolo. He noticed three new individuals had emerged. Two women and a lone man. Each was filled with an aura that spoke of only evil. But one held an innocence that he found refreshing.

[darth shadowlord]

Draken nodded and shook Canderous's hand. "I'll leave you with a tip, if you have the chance to learn something, then learn it." Turning to Alora and Mara, Draken nodded. "Very well Piccolo, we will depart." Draken bowed slightly and returned to the Sundered Heart along with Alora and Mara. Once the ship was sealed, Draken looked at the two women and nodded toward the where the Black Sun agents were gathered.

 

"Something is up, there is too much that was left unsaid." With those words, Draken piloted the ship into space. But rather then making the jump to hyperspce, Draken guided the ship into an asteroid and cut the power to the ship. "Alora, Mara, watch their departures and the direction in which they head. I will hide the ship." Draken knelt on the cockpit floor, sliding his hood over his face as he slipped into a meditative trance.

 

He began to draw the force to him, focusing on the image of the asteroid. Once he had the image of the asteroid in his mind, Draken started to overlay the ship with the image of the asteroid, placing layer after layer of detailed images of the asteroid so that only a Master of the Force, be it Jedi or Sith could see through.

 

Now the waiting began.

[Alora]

The newcomer (Nephelim) had received the same attention as the others, Alora's gaze going over him, seeing his wounds from the duel he had obviously just fought. She'd found it interesting listening to Canderous and Draken's conversation as well. Jacen's response to her after returning from his private conversation with Piccolo, amused her somewhat. The sith Mistress would have enjoyed more time with him, though that was not to be.

 

Once they'd left, Alora had taken the co-pilot's seat, this time allowing Draken to fly. "If you'd have been listening, you would have heard one of his men mention Gala. 'Good luck on Gala' to be exact. Therefore, with that along with Piccolo's comment of the meeting that three sith would be killed for' if we were to show up, puts it all together. I don't think we need stay. The Rebels have been known to have a base on this planet. I'd prefer to leave now and not have the concern of having to fight our way through. We should go now while we have the chance to."

 

Alora initiated the security checks so that they would be assured not to be followed themselves. "Take a few random jumps when we leave also."

[Piccolo]

Piccolo gathered the remaining operatives to his location. Now that the Sith had departed it was time to discuss exactly what they had to do. The hunter decided to choose his words carefully. He disliked being deceptive toward those who were loyal to him, but there were situations where such loyalty was not enough. Experience taught him even the strongest of wills had a breaking point. Piccolo would not lie of course, but he had not told them everything he knew and would not now.

 

"We have been asked to complete a special assignment. I would have refused, but it is in line with our larger goals. I believe we can take out our Pirate King in the process. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. The Sith are untrustworthy, despite what Faust promised us, I would not trust them not to turn against us. So I had to ask they leave. Despite that setback, I think we may be able to maintain a sense of neutrality even while completing this assignment, so that the option to join with Dominique will still be on the table. If not, I'm willing to risk that to eliminate the pretenders."

[darth shadowlord]

Draken shook his head and chuckled. "Again you still notice more then I notice. Very well, we shall leave then. A pity though, I was curious to see how well this illision was layered. So other time I guess. " Draken let the illision fade away and returned to the pilot's seat. Firing up the engines again, Draken duided the ship into space where moments later they made a jump to hyperspace.

[Terra]

Terra stretched after her long duel with Crosa. She was unhappy with her loss, but was quite pleased with the experience that she had gained.

 

I almost beat him”¦ If we fight again I shall.

 

Terra finished her stretch and walked over to Crosa and Delta. Terra stalled as she saw them talking, but advanced anyway. She hoped that they would not be too annoyed with her for her interruption.

 

”œExcuse me, Crosa, sir. Umm”¦ what's going to happen to the organization I just joined? Are we joining those Sith scum? Will we still be criminals? Will I still be an operative do you think?”

[Omega73]

Crosa nodded at Terra as she approached him.

 

”œExcuse me, Crosa, sir. Umm”¦ what's going to happen to the organization I just joined? Are we joining those Sith scum? Will we still be criminals? Will I still be an operative do you think?”

[Piccolo]

Piccolo cleared his throat.

 

"Would Crosa and Terra like to share that with the class?"

 

The hunter returned to the task at hand, repeating his speech for all those that apparently had not heard him.

 

"We have been asked to complete a special assignment. I would have refused, but it is in line with our larger goals. I believe we can take out our Pirate King in the process. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. The Sith are untrustworthy, despite what Faust promised us, I would not trust them not to turn against us. So I had to ask they leave. Despite that setback, I think we may be able to maintain a sense of neutrality even while completing this assignment, so that the option to join with Dominique will still be on the table. If not, I'm willing to risk that to eliminate the pretenders."

[Omega73]

Crosa spoke up in responce to Piccolo's speach.

 

"That's all fine and dandy of course, but when do we start takinng some action. We've been on this planet too long for my comfort, and I don't know about everyone else, but I'm ready to go."

 

Crosa turned to see that his ship was flying in for a landing, piloted by his R9 unit.

 

"Here's my ride, now. So, where to next Piccolo."

 

Crosa awaited Piccolo's responce.

[ObliviousKnight]

A transport full of highly specialized”¦ stuff””there was no better way to describe the massive stockpile of explosive armaments and very oddly shaped plates of thick armor””arrived at Selvaris. Hopefully, someone would know what to do with them.

[Piccolo]

Piccolo hadn't expected a shipment of materials. He wasn't sure how much use it was going to be. It seemed it was likely to be just him and Crosa in this fight, and Piccolo had his own equipment.

 

"Keep your pants on. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to hit a space convoy first. I can't tell you more than that right now. I'll give you detailed instructions once we get there."

 

Piccolo saw no reason for the main bulk of their forces to go yet. Piccolo, Crosa, and the other operatives could do a task like this on their own.

 

"You, and anyone else who's still part of the Black Sun should meet me in space, at these coordinates."

 

He ordered an operative to take the transport with the delivered items and follow the hunter's ship. Piccolo entered his Firespray before sending a comm.

 

"I'll see you all there."

[Omega73]

Crosa jumped into his own ship and entered in the correct coordinates. As his ship took off, he greeted his R9 unit.

 

"Good to have you back R9."

 

Crosa's astromech droid grumbled something about being bored watching rust expand on his metal parts.

 

"Yeah, well I have not had an amazing amount of action either, but don't worry, we should be having some fun soon."

 

Then Crosa's ship, a R-22 Spearhead known as The Flaming Eagle, took off into hyperspace.

[Terra]

Terra watched as the rest of the Black Sun agents blasted off into space from Slevaris.

 

Left behind again”¦ Not this time.

 

Thinking ahead, Terra sought out the Tamerainin doctor in the medical frigate The Darkened Stars. Pulling out some of her hair and any other required DNA needed for cloning she gave them to the doctor. Terra thanked the doctor and ran to her ship, the Slade, clambered in, started the engines, and activated the repulser engines.

 

If there is a fight, I hope there will be some left for me.

 

The Slade exited Slevaris atmosphere and Terra punched the coordinates for the rendezvous with the rest of Black Sun. The Slade entered hyperspace with a flash.

[Black Sun Agent(s)]

Talizabeth was watching the Holonet News Service Broadcast on the 7:00 news, suddenly there was a news flash. There had been an attack on Corasant. A rather fat ma was reporting on the disaster,

 

”œToday the criminal Syndicate Black Sun has struck again, three civilian transports where boarded, and promptly taken over by a group of criminals from Black Sun, Only two were identified, known as Delta73, and Crosa Hoverich.”

[Exodus]

The vanilla and almost soundless purr of perfection oozed into the solemn substratosphere while the innocence below remained oblivious to the core. A masterstroke known as the Arachnid slithered down towards a particular destination and seemed to almost peel off from the colorless clouds. The mammoth creation awed and overcame the planet while it spread out its wide shadow across the lands. Its appearance was of course hidden from the scope of reconnoiters and made it even more ominous as its pale moss skin and dark obsidian plates radiated with a flush of polish.

 

A man of questionable importance sat buried in an artistic throne; he wore plates of armor that matched the complexion of those expansive shells that rounded this ship and he wore them with a comfortable pride and satisfaction. His hair was a vital white that reached the bottom of his neck and complimented the tormented irises of colorless ash that his sockets consisted of. There was a smile painted upon his face as he seemed to stare through this ship and watch the vulnerable fortress below.

 

The ship, alive and ambitious, echoed a moan that reached all corners of the craft and awakened the souls of the men and women who were to serve this vessel until death. Its tune carried with it an unseen stir that provoked the itch of battle into their hearts and minds. Motion inside of the Arachnid hastened and with each second became fiercer, more callous and without a doubt filled with the same desire in mind; the desolation of traitors.

 

 

• ”œLet the power of our iron creed be felt; wipe these fools from the face of this planet.”

[Silas]

Jacen was just preparing to take off as he felt turbolasers begin rocking the base. He jumped off his ship and made his way to the command center. He saw what was happeneing and immediatley logged into the command center, signaling an evacuation. Though the automated message wouldn't go out, the alarms would start blaring, as would the lights. They would get as many people out as they could.

 

He ordered the few ships they had up into space to defend the station as long as possible. He brought the shields online to give them more protection, but he wasn't sure how long he could hold out. With communications out, there was no way he could call for back-up from Piccolo on Coruscant. While contemplating his next move, he watched on the monitors as three corvettes lifted off from the hangar and moved into attack positions. They began assulting the ship, whose owner didn't even have the decency to announce himself.

 

He punched in a sequence of numbers and letters on the keypad, giving the base 45:00 of reamining time. The self-destruct would prevent the people coming into the base from gaining any vital information that couldn't be evactuated. The self-destruct seemed a little rash, and unprovoked, but Jacen knew that Selvaris was finished. It was meant to be a temporary base anyway.

 

Leaving the base in the hands of the highest ranking operative there, and headed back towards the hangar. He boarded his ship and having already prepped, headed off into space towards the attacking ship, dodging left and right the fighter droids that were harrassing the base. He made a direct course towards the base ship, concentrating on the battle at hand.

 

I'm coming to get you, you bastard.

[Black Sun Agent(s)]

Quote:

Talizabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise as a very large ship entered the atmosphere. Her astonished look soon turned to a frown as many tri-fighters and Vulture Star fighters appeared out of many vents that were all over the large ship. This was quite unexpected. Quickly she made an announcement to all Black Sun agents to start evacuations, starting with the medical frigates and have the pilots protect the ships. Talizabeth added that she needed to have their finest agents come to her for instructions. When the Agents quickly came over, she counted how many there were. It was enough.

 

It seemed that Jacen Onnd, before taking off, had sent some fighters out to defend the base. He also seemed to have set a self destruct on the base, giving them only 45:00. She smiled he was very good...

 

”œOk, ladies and gentlemen. It seems that someone got some funny idea that they should attack us. As you heard, were evacuating, but we need to be the last to go. While were waiting, take care of those assassins. Anyone who can pilot a ship, get in one and take care of those star fighters. Let's go.”

[Omega73]

Crosa awoke. Awoke from death. Death, for Crosa, was a sleep that should never have been disturbed. Crosa had failed miserably. He had killed both himself and his partner, Delta73, by failing to react quick enough against the empire. Crosa sat up in the cloning center. Most everything had been packed away or was currently being packed away by dozens of agents. Crosa was as confused as he was naked. But he soon found an answer to both his problems by finding an undergarment, as well as a note beside it.

 

The note explained that someone with a large force was currently attacking the Black Sun base and that he, Crosa, was needed to fight with them. Crosa then looked around for some kind of armor. To his satisfaction, he found that someone had gone through the trouble of getting some neo-crusader mandolorian armor for him. Observing it quickly, Crosa found that it was not made of mandolorian ore and did not have the popular stealth mode that mandolorian armor was known to have. The only other difference was it was black instead of red and it had a flamethrower on it.

 

Crosa suited up and ran out to find some kind of star fighter to pilot. Crosa had never really been an amazing pilot, but he was quite decent according to his father. Crosa soon found a star fighter, an ancient A-wing that should be held in a museum. Oh well, it would do. Crosa hopped in and familiarized himself with the controls, which weren't too different from his old ship, The Flaming Eagle, which had been destroyed along with Crosa. Crosa then took off towards the base ship. As he flew quickly towards the ship, he could see that Jacen had the same idea. He made a quick COMM to his superior.

 

”

[Dar'Manda]

The vacant, yet valiant void left untouched that was the hunter's presence crept upon the hunted like a sheet upon the wind, weightless and possibly deadly under the right circumstances. Why had someone chosen to even think they could prey upon the Black Sun members that called Selvaris home was unbeknownst to even this Hunter Of Shadows. But as far as this former Mandalorian was concern, it would not happen this day, the only blood being spilled would be of the transgressors.

 

His hair floated upon the wind as he motioned forward, the Blade of Bralor gripped tightly within his hands. His gaze shifted toward the heavens, his mind unable to comprehend the sight that he saw. What was this mechanical marvel of malacious intent that feasted it's self upon the near defenceless souls that inhabited the base. He had to stop it's path of destruction no matter the cost. With the silent hiss of his ship's entrance closing, Canderous saw no other choice.

 

The hunter had never heard the talks of evacuation, nor the blare of the alarms in the distance. For all he heard was the bass filled beating of the war song in his heart among the guilty conciousness that he would bare should he fail this day. Trees bent and swayed as the corvette's engines pulsated to full throttle, an attack on the ship above eminent at this point in time. Quad Laser Cannons came online, as well as Ion Cannons, as Canderous ship flew head on into the brewing storm.

 

Explosions littered the skies as the hunter's ship drew closer to it's destination. Shields flickered with each hit, and ships fell from the sky in balls of molten durasteel as the conflict ensued. Canderous's thoughts drifted to Piccolo and the others, they having left him behind without a word. Were they alright? Where had they gone? These questions remained unanswered. Communications seemed to be down, and they seemed to be alone. But that was how Canderous prefered to be.

 

A lone wolf among the harvest of sheep, Canderous would not go down this easily. His target laid ahead, Selvaris's freedom within it. If his comrades were to survive another day, he would have to walk through the gates of hell and face the wrath of the devil aboard this conquering ship. He would do so, or at least in a valiant effort, try. As the aura of his destination came into his line of sight, his piercing black Miraluka eyes glowing of the purest determination, all of his ship's turrets turned and rained a heaven's wrath of fire upon the attackers. The man aboard would certainly remember this day.

[Darth Furion]

Vivid flashes of reds and greens; gone as soon as they came and with them resonating power, nowhere near contained by the fragile rock and brittle metal taking the brunt of the assault. Screams; terrible and brilliant in their own regard thickened the air around him. As he stood still, watching chaos blossom in it's unkempt beauty, Julio could feel only hopeless. A familiar figure stood in the distance, waving him closer as bits of rock curtained the air, light grey dust flowing in no predictable pattern. He had been here before. The day oh so long ago carved into his memory, taking residence right behind his eyes, always present, always whispering. The woman in the distance grew more worried by the second, her face begging him to come closer. As he started to run toward her, the hall stretched onward, a disorienting haze rushing in to engulf him. Time seemed to slow. The faster he tried to run, the slower he seemed to go. With a loud crack, the scene changed, the much younger Julio now holding on to the upper half of his mother, horrible burns covering her from head to mangled waist.

• God...

Her eyes lacked the glow of life, now dull and glazed over. Julio's own golden eyes shone back in mocking perversion, showing his grief only through what little tears his wounded body would allow. Bone chilling laughter cut through the mournful whispers of the dead, a cold click of metal on metal rising above all other distractions. Julio tilted his head to the side to catching the image of a nearly pitch black figure shrouded in a crimson coat, gun pointed right at the the cowering youth. With a wolfish grin the figure squeezed the trigger and Julio's eyes snapped open. Now he was staring out the window of his ship. The screens showed it was Selvaris. The dream was still fresh in his mind. It was the day his parents had died, a memory still painful for him, though why he couldn't figure out. The memory burned behind his eyes and was quick to anger him. To be hurt by the past was a weak thing. The past was there to teach, nothing more. With his anger came focus, and with it a familiar presence. He scanned the console and the scene, assessing the situation as best as he could. His master's ship was deploying ships and firing on the planet while ships from the planet came forth to intercept.

 

Excellent. It would seem I wake up to a battle.

 

Without word to his master, Julio began dialing in commands, his twin slug throwers answering his summon from their resting place, landing neatly on his lap. He strapped the holsters under his robe then checked Rose. Weapons in order, he brought the ship into a deep dive. Mid descent, he turned the ship's cloak on, firing on enemy ships as they crossed paths. Faster and faster the ship fell towards the planet, weaving in and out of enemy ships and debris.

[Exodus]

The Assassins that seemed to have encountered the Black Sun members were not his own for the simple fact that he hadn't even hinted at the command to distribute his fearless soldiers to the powdered soil below thus far. In that case, it appeared as if independent civilians had conformed and reconciled with the rule of the Imperials and had taken it upon themselves to squash whichever vermin stood in their path. Their efforts were small but valuable as even the Black Sun found it difficult to an extent to deal with the Imperial rebellion. However, if that was the case””how would Black Sun fair when the actual Assassins who were trained to the teeth were released into action? It would be atrocious.

 

The numerous pods were almost full and prepared to unfold from the Arachnid. Evacuations were scanned for all across the terrain and the structure emptied at a pathetic rate. The Ion Cannons tore the establishment to pieces and pinned cratered walls into the frail skeletal structures of those that ran without hope; blood burst to and fro like the splash of water balloons on the blank concrete beneath but the assault did not cease. Their resistance was preposterous and mere ships could not deter the efforts of a ship built with this scale; their stunted shots bounced off of an untold bulwark that shielded and absorbed the scintilla of each particle on the Arachnid as the men who conducted it took amusement in the efforts.

 

The Vulture StarFighters that waited with disciplined patience now exacted a mark that moved with reckless behavior across the skies. He was of course, a mere mortal and had no ulterior tactic that could stave off the invasion of an entire fleet and since the resistance had been split across different planets, his motion was suicide. Four squads that consisted of five Vultures each made their advance on a rusted and run down ship (The A-Wing), it stood no chance and especially in that condition. Their formation was practice and each of them became a powerful hunter as the squads traced the A-Wings' movements and in unison”” blasted the ships into bits with their full arsenal.

 

The Tri-Droids kept hard pressed with their scheme as their unique construction allowed them to land and even walk on their mechanized wings; swarms of them covered the fractured headquarters and pinned down lone runners as soon as one was exposed to the scanners which happened more times than the Black Sun would hope for. Their motives were not so simple however; once their ranks were met in multiples, the swarm of Tri-Droids would infest certain sections of the headquarters and then extract valuable information from the database. Weapons, locations, identifications and even the access to set self destruction procedure could be tampered with. The option was open but wasn't from top to bottom exploited so far.

 

In short, the Assassins awaited further instructions and the skies were polluted with machines of destruction marked with the emblem of Transcendence. The Arachnid also made use of its Mirage System and compensated for the ships that had been downed to this point. The Flak Cannons came online no sooner and pointed their reticule to a suspicious corvette that dawdled in airspace but accompanied with those cannons were a slew of fifteen Turbolaser Batteries that were excited to rip some steels to shred.

 

--

 

Exodus and his apprentice had arrived, and the ship landed a small distance from the battle. There was not much barter of words but communications between the two were limited but still accessible if it was needed. Exodus made his own path from the ship and disappeared from the scene in order to intercept a Tri-Droid that seemed to lurk in the midst of their destination; it was apart of a scheme but before it was obvious, Exodus recklessly clutched an indentation in the droid ship and sped towards and into the Arachnid with evasive speed. The aura these mortals felt before was now little in comparison to the man who had now slipped into the heat of battle.

[Darth Furion]

Julio stood on the ramp as his master left to his own devices. He looked past the physical realm of the shattered base to the force, observing the scattering life as it focused only on self preservation. Pathetic. Even the famed associates of the Black Sun fled instead of defending what was theres. The thought of such cowardice left a sour taste in Julio's mouth as he boarded his ship once again. They would stand and fight, even if he had to break their knees to do it. His ship broke gravity's grasp as it sped back toward the battle overhead. Once again weaving through the chaos, he pushed aside conscious thought and relied on the force to choose his targets. One by one he passed over the fighters as if they were protected by lamb's blood. One seemed to stand out from the rest, doing far better against his master's fighters than the rest. Julio serpentined through what little resistance the shattered organization committed until coming to his mark ((Canderous)). A few quick shot to his ship's thruster's and the Black Sun associate was sent in a possibly fiery death somewhere on the planet's surface. Julio picked his next target ((Corsa)) and tagged the hull with a few glancing shots before returning to the planet's surface. Hopefully one of the two would prove to give a legitimate fight outside of a dogfight.

 

Which one shall sate the hunger? I suppose we shall see.

[Omega73]

Crosa was still waiting for the response, when it hit him, there were no communications. How the heck could he forget that? Before he could think of another way to communicate with Silas, four enemy star fighters started firing on Crosa. Crosa smiled, he would show them what they were messing with. Crosa pulled the triggers to blast the Vulture Droids in to nothing but dust, but to his surprise and dismay, the A-wing was truly an antique, the blaster cannons were broken.

 

Talking about a welcome back present”¦

 

The droid ships, soon shot Crosa's ship into nothing more then ruble, but luckily, by the forces grace, Crosa shot his way out of the flaming A-wing, right before the ship was shot by another craft, and jumped right on top of”¦ nothing. The mandolorian fell through air, there was no way he could survive this one. But suddenly, there was another surprise, a Black Sun pilot happened to be swooping by in his ship, which was right under Crosa. Crosa crash landed on the ship, breaking a few ribs but surviving, he signaled for the pilot to land. The pilot did so without panicking.

 

Well something went well today”¦

 

Crosa jumped off the ship, thanked the pilot, and made his to the medical center, which he found was evacuated. So Crosa grabbed an E-11 that a dead agent had been holding. He also gathered four thermal detonators, two of them being Class A. Crosa made his way to the main database. He logged himself into the files and started the process of erasing them. Sadly, the files couldn't be erased within seconds. While Crosa was waiting he signaled a good amount of agents to come over to him.

 

He told that they needed to protect the database at all costs while the files were erased. They nodded and went to their tasks. The attackers had more resources, including more men, or rather droids, but Black Sun had more skilled men. Crosa then turned towards whoever had shot at his burning ship. People liked that deserved punishment, and Crosa was the perfect person to introduce it to them. He turned towards the landed ship that had so cowardly shot at Crosa's failing ship and signaled that he was ready to fight him in a fair battle.

 

Bring it on”¦

 

((I'll be happy to duel. You can start if you wish.))

[Darth Furion]

Standing with his arms clasped in front of him, Julio waited. Much to his pleasure, it was only a matter of time before his prey had chosen to come to him. The Black Sun agent had an aura of righteous arrogance about him, as if his natural superiority should have been enough to make Julio cower. It was actually amusing to a degree. Certainly Julio felt just as superior as the agent, but he made a point of trying not to show it. He took a moment to observe his surroundings, taking note of the spacious hanger, rather what was left of it. Before his opponent had a chance to start throwing hot plasma in the air, he introduced himself.

• Before we start, let's make this formal, shall we? My name is Julio.

He tilted his head up just enough to let the hanger's light show the bottom half of his face beneath his robe's dark cowl, revealing his closely becoming trademark grin. His auriferous orbs scoured his foe, taking note of what he had at his disposal. The armor was archaic to say the least. One not used for thousands of years, though the color scheme was something to be admired. The small flamethrower on the wrist wasn't a common weapon, but it wasn't unheard of in Mandalorians. The four thermals at his waist and the E-11 in his hands seemed to be the extent of his arsenal.

 

Pity. And I thought I picked a worthy adversary.

 

He flexed the fingers in his right hand, the crushgaunt responding like it was a natural extension of his arm. He was still trying to get used to the feel of the thing. His mind bounced back and forth, trying to decide which route to take. So many ways to deliver death, yet so little did it matter. They were about eight meters apart; just enough room to start the firefight the Black Sun agent had no choice to resort to. The thermals would prove almost useless in such close proximity. The only real option was to get in close, take away what little advantage his weapons offered.

 

Deep breath, exhale. Close out the world, follow the currents. A tide of darkness washes over, engulfing all within. Envelop me the night, lost am I in the torrent.

 

Wreathed in dark energy, a sinister toll brought him from his statuesque state. In one fluid action Julio's left hand shot up, reaching within the folds of his cloak to reveal a slugthrower. With inhuman speed Julio squeezed off half a dozen rounds at his opponent as he charged forward, ignoring whatever may be coming his way. Three meters between them, he dropped the firearm as he drew his Kerathorr Ryyk Blade. His left hand brought the blade high enough to intercept a blow coming to his left side, simultaneously bringing his crushgaunt shrouded right arm around to connect with the left side of his opponent's helmet.

 

((3 Post Modded Duel. Dagon Mods, if that's okay with you.))

 

((1))

[Omega73]

Before we start, let's make this formal, shall we? My name is Julio.

 

Crosa studied the grinning apprentice with caution. The man seemed to have a confidence in himself, yet wasn't boastful about it. Crosa couldn't make out what weapons Julio had up his sleeve, but Crosa was sure that they weren't squirt guns. What Crosa could see was that his opponent had a crushgaunt. A crushgaunt was an old mandolorian armored glove which used an unknown technology to enhance the natural hand-arm strength of its wearer.

 

Gotta get me one of those”¦

 

Crosa quickly switched into a defensive mode as his enemy shot at him with surprising speed and accuracy. Crosa barely managed to avoid all of the bullets, but before he could recover from the surprise, another one came at him. Julio seemed to have pulled some type of blade out. Crosa swung a fist out towards the blade, both trying to attack and defend himself. His arm made contact with the blade, and before Crosa could bring back his arm to defend himself once again, his helmet was almost smashed by the crushgaunt.

 

Crosa fell to the ground. Now he realized that not only was his opponent as good as himself, but he was better. Crosa knew that fighting this man was pointless and suicidal, but he also knew that those kind of fights suited himself the best. The mandolorian stood up again, being sure to avoid the crushgaunt, and rushed Julio with skill and precision. Crosa blasted five shots out of his E-11, and then somersaulted to the left, avoiding any attacks in return. Crosa came out of his summersault in a kneeling position, about ten feet away from his adversary and aimed his flame thrower at him.

 

”œMy name is Crosa Hoverich, prepared to be torched.”