Selvaris

[The Black Sun Armada]

Larren smiled at the young man. Just as he had expected. He walked forward, taking the now defective lightsaber from the young mans hand, then glaring at the boy, who now scampered back towards the makeshift command center. "Come," he said to the new recruit. Though the new man didn't know it, they were heading towards a hidden hangar. He walked for close to fifty meters before speaking.

 

"Tell me, why have you come here. Besides the obvious desire to join Black Sun. There had to be something beneath that decsion, what was it?"

[ShadowProphet]

Now in complete amazement at change of events, he was just asked to kill a boy and turns out it was a test, now admiring his trickiness.

 

He must have tampered with the saber somehow, sly bastard.

 

 

"Tell me, why have you come here. Besides the obvious desire to join Black Sun. There had to be something beneath that decsion, what was it?"

 

"The freelance market has been down lately for me cheap pay, too cheap. I can hardly afford my ship repairs and its becoming increasingly obsolete and I am without a residence. I figured it was time I had to align somewhere, I chose the Black Sun because of their reputable history and already being well established,I come here looking for work, a place to rest my head and perhaps improve my skills."

 

He hoped that was the answer he was looking for because that was the most honest reason he could give, he started to wonder where they were.

 

"May I ask where are we heading?"

[The Black Sun Armada]

Larren smiled. This man asked the strangest questions...

 

"Indeed you may. We are heading to the hangar located about a hundred meters from here. Its time for us to get off this planet and go somewhere that we can actually get things accomplished."

 

Larren looked up at the new hangar before walking in. He boarded one of the ships with Rydr, walked into the cockpit of the already warm ship and lifted off.

 

((I'll post in space, then you will, and then we'll be where I want to go))

[Menthu]

As usual, here wasn't much to highlight the arrival of the ship. The old clunker of a device, the highlight of a time past now simply provided transport, his transport through out the galaxy. Though the cabin had been set for a breeze cool, he still blinked the sweat out of his eyes as he grasped the controls once more and took the ship out of autopilot. Unfazed by his current feeling of distress, with an unnerving calmness he guided the ship into a space lane and simply became apart of the traffic. Another tourist out to see other worlds and visit them all as if he was acting out old fantasies or attempting to complete his bucket list.

 

Well that was what any one who had watched how he handled the traffic operators would have assumed. He on the other hand came with a different purpose.

 

If only there was a frequent flyer miles program for men like me.

 

He knew he was mortal and made no attempts to hide it. He was simply a God trapped in a mortal's body and could therein suffer all the problems that lied with being trapped in such a state. Perhaps some ancient mythological could and would sympathies with him. Yet he knew not of any if there was one.

 

Unchallenged for the most part he descended to the surface before disembarking from his ship. He was on a self imposed mission. One that required him to see the sights and explore. See how the high class lived, and observe those less fortunate. The population claimed to be huge for a back water planet. Over 14 billion inhabitants on this world. Surley he could seek out and find the divide.

 

He made no attempts to hide his general nature or use with the force, letting his power roll off him in waves. It was how he operated. Same as with the last place he visited. Why would he attempt to hide what he was? Was he not a God trapped amongst men? He raised an eyebrow over the thought before allowing a simply one step forward and then another.

 

This would be an stranged environment to hone his skills in even further.

--edit--jan 29

 

The living God, the one trapped in mortal flesh, drifted quietly form town to town. Seeking out the most populated center, watching as people went about their lives. He had a detached view from it all, as they were nothing but pawns in his grand scheme. Nothing but disposable instruments in his view of the universe. Still he took his time getting to know them, similar to how a mechanic gets to know a machine. Just because the machine wasn't as well as never could be perceived as an equal to you didn't mean you didn't get to under stood how it work, and on some level develop a sense of attachment to it.

 

Still he did have an agenda, and that was the reason he inevitably found himself perched over looking the Alliance base stationed on this world. Taking a deep breath he sauntered forward, gathering the power he would need by concentrating on the force. Not on for the utter most subtly he concentrated and felt out the various sensors, that would detect his approach and will them from their ability to detect them. Through the used of various powers he had put under the category of cold fire. He was manipulating the technology in the area as wall as the droids. While the most he could do with a droid, was throw it back down to the most basic programming, he was able to overload circuits, remotely access computers, and cause static on screens briefly when he passed by. Among other things of course.

 

With no scanners to register him, he would never actually be on file. As he approached the guard gate, he was only slightly dismayed to see live men standing in the towers among other things.

 

Still this is what he had expected, and no doubt the rebels would be prepared for what came next. His eyes slid to the right of a tower that was about ten meters away from him. Super heating the air, a sudden explosion rocketed the base of the tower, causing the gentleman to tumble out.

 

His eyes sliding to the left, caused patch of ground, to explode in a similar manner.

Knowledge brings power.

 

Letting his face show, he put on a mask of fear, as an explosion seem to explode a few feet away from him. Looking lost and confused, het started running, as he caused to more simultaneous explosions, with in his super heated range.

 

Then with his final act of this particular drama, he appeared to be engulfed in one of the random explosions that seemed to be enveloping the area. A well timed jump, and a smoking shirt and he landed hard, on his back. Closing his eyes, he simply laid their as if he had been blown up by this sudden and strange occurrence.

 

Yet fully alert, he allowed explosions to continue long after he had suppose been ”˜hit'. Another guard found himself tumbling out of his tower, only to be engulfed in an explosion as he fell. It was as if the base was under attack of some sort. Then as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and only a flame was seen in the jungle before being extinguished suddenly.

 

No longer focused on the cause of explosions, he could feel the confused and fearful minds, quickly forming up.

 

My power brought them fear. Yet that fear is random, only chaos is absolute. No matter soon through that chaos the clamor of order will be heard.

--edit”” feb 1

 

His eyes snapped open, he looked around and sat up. He was in the medical facility of the Alliance base.

 

Perfect

 

He could feel it. The general bustle of the alliance troopers. They all seemed so focused on one task or another. Be it tending to those who were wounded or going about their daily tasks. He could feel their underlying passion and belief that what they did, was bettering the galaxy, no matter how small and minute it might be.

 

Truly, peace if only brought through passion. Never a truer aphorism. Now then, time to move on to the next stage of this plan”¦

 

His thoughts were interrupted, as he felt the general mood of some higher class individuals, giving him attention.

 

Of course the inquiry into this strange attack would involve me. Never assume an innocent bystander at a base, until cleared. Makes sense.

 

He placed his feet on the floor and rose from the bed. Stretching, he watched the medical droid drifted toward him.

 

”œYou're lucky. Seems the explosions didn't blow apart one of my men.”

[Haphaestus]

The story of the galaxy was a story of the wars that shaped it. There had been long millenia of peace during the height of what was now considered the Old Republic, but when one thought of those times in the past, the things that dominated their mentality were the Mandalorian Wars, the Great Sith War, the Jedi Civil War, and the numerous small conflicts that clouded the space around and between these catastrophic events.

 

Now, once again, after much war between the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Empire (the eventual evolution of the Old Republic into a far more efficient government), peace had once again been obtained, and the Alliance had taken up the name Republic once again, as if to signify that they would carry on the torch of peace that was left by their precursors.

 

They had succeeded in that, but only briefly. Where the Old Repubic had stood for millenia, this new Republic's time of peace was already up.

 

War had once again arrived in the galaxy, at Selvaris in the form of these vessels:

 

3 Victory II Class Star Destroyers

6 Assault Frigate Mark II

 

10 Gladiator Class Star Destroyer

10 Scythe-Class Main Battle Cruiser

 

20 Crusader-Class Corvette

 

And a full complement of Miy'til fighters and Sith Interceptors, dated but effective snubfighters.

 

On the bridge of the flagship, Starlisk's End, the Imperial Inquisitor Haphaestus stood, his imperious form striking to behold as he stood before the distinctive triangular front viewports. "Move into assault formation. Inform the planet's leaders that they have one hour to stand down, or we shall destroy them."

 

It's judgment day on Selvaris.

[Sgt. Slaughter]

Further up in the orbit of Slevaris, a large Republic armada appeared out of hyperspace with a trail of pseudomotion, already arrayed in formation to prepare for battle. The ensemble appeared as a sort of blunted arrowhead, the razor-sharp edge provided by a line of mighty MC90a Star Cruisers. A slew of Corellian gunships darted between the massive destroyers, along with a smaller squadron of Carrack Light Cruisers and Quasar Fire-class Carriers towards the aft of the formation.

 

The void surrounding the battle group was luminous with the drive exhausts of hundreds of starfighters.

 

Battlegroup composition:

 

9 MC90a Star Cruisers

20 Corellian Gunships

9 Carrack Light Cruisers

6 Quasar-Fire carriers

 

Starfighter complement:

48 squads of E-Wings

21 squads of K-Wings

21 squads of A-Wings + 45 fighters attached to Carrack Light Cruisers ((As I am aware, Imperial Carracks have an ability to carry 5 TIE Fighters. If it's unreasonable to give Republic Carracks an equal ability, I'm happy to modify this.))

 

Standing on the bridge of the flagship Rancor, Captain Bruce Slaughter resisted the temptation to pace in his armor as he watched General Aesop issue orders to tidy up the formation after the chaos of a mass hyperspace jump. They were both Coruscanti, but it felt to him that a world of experience separated the two officers--Aesop was a fleet officer, waging war from the pristine cockpit of a Mon Calamari cruiser; Slaughter was for all intents and purposes a ”œgrunt”

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

He had always been”¦. Sensitive to the ebbs and flows of the dark side of the force. Especial beings who seemed to drink in its enriching, tantalizing, yet ultimately fatal and foolish power. He would have been hard pressed to have missed the abomination that seemed to scream out at him. A cross between machine and flesh, and mired deep in the darkside. It seemed like an ultimate perversion of nature. Emerging out of hyperspace for the first time perhaps in his life, he was not at the control. Perhaps for the first time in the history of the galaxy, a lightsaber was now powering but piloting the ship.

 

Instead locked deep in meditation, he sat amidst his ship, touching nothing yet feeling everything. A floating mediation as to not find even the cool hard decks of his ship's cabin to pose as a distraction.

 

As Mace windu once said "Jedi do not fight for peace. That's only a slogan, and is as misleading as slogans always are. Jedi fight for civilization, because only civilization creates peace. We fight for justice because justice is the fundamental bedrock of civilization: an unjust civilization is built upon sand. It does not long survive a storm."

 

Understand the dark and light in all things.

Jedi must put the needs of the community above the needs of individuals

 

Everyone dies. It is the final and only ever lasting justice. Evil exists; it is intelligence in the service of entropy. When the side of a mountain slides to kill a village, this is not evil, for evil requires intent. Should a sentient being cause that landslide, there is evil; and requires justice as a consequence, so that civilization can exist. There is no greater good than justice; and only if law serves justice is it a good law. It is said correctly that law exists not for the just but for the unjust, for the just carry the law in their hearts, and do not need to call it from afar.

There is no death, there is the Force.

 

 

A Jedi uses the Force the lightsaber only for defense, never for Attack.

 

I shall learn to see accurately.

Open my eyes to what is not evident.

Exercise caution, even in trivial manners.

Allow others to draw upon me.

 

He was trained to master Ataru, Shien, and Soresu. His body was shaped and molded to become a tool for the lightside, and in that role developed to be a weapon for himself. Durable, everlasting, a man of deep thought and laid back action. Far more willing to side on the side lines, and help with the dead and wounded, he was still relentless once engaged in combat, and would not stop attempting to complete that with what he was tasked with, until he could no longer under any power of his own move forward in his Goal.

 

Jedi Master Scorp Ession had arrived. His ship automatically identified with the friendly republic ships, his IFF confirmed, they uploaded all enemy and friendly craft into his computer. His board lit up with red and green dots, all of it interpreted by Ilum and Sils the two beings currently navigating his ship. Perhaps far better than he ever had.

 

Just as well, flying was never my particular talent.

 

An image of him speaking with a commander appeared in his head, and so gently he eased himself to the decks, before activating his comm..

 

--comm--

”œCurrent Alliance Commander. Jedi Master Scorp Ession, offer Jedi assistance, hopefully as a mediator in peaceful talks and finding a resolution to this potential conflict.”

[Haphaestus]

((I don't think Haphaestus' nature is known to any save an extreme few, none of which could inform Slaughter.))

 

Haphaestus witnessed the arrival of the Republic fleet first hand out his Star Destroyer's front viewport. They had brought an impressive array of vessels, and the bulky Mon Calamarian designs of their Star Cruisers made them tough enough that his Victory-IIs would have a tough time punching through their shields.

 

The Sith Master noted that he also had the numerical advantage by a few ships, and he would be sure to use them. With no signal that the Emperor had changed his mind and still wanted to move forward with the attack, he felt that there was no discussion to be had. The Republic task force was the answer to his actions, and he would have been extremely dissapointed if they had not come. How else was he supposed to find a challenge here?

 

Haphaestus did not answer the communication. With the comm off, he gave a few orders. "Divide the support craft and attempt to flank the Republic fleet, one group on each side and one in the center," he said. "Send the assault frigates with them and have them concentrate fire on the Star Cruisers. Tell the Santa's Clause and the Ebon Hawk II to drop into the atmosphere, and do the same."

 

This was where the advantages of Victory-class Star Destroyers shone. Not only were they capable of atmospheric flight when many Republic ships weren't, but they were outfitted with the batteries of long-range, high-powered turbolasers and ion cannons that would be extremely effective even from the back line. With a group of ships in between them and the Republic force, they would be well-protected and extremely deadly.

 

"Angle to be parallel with the ground and watch planetary defenses," the Sith continued. They'd have a whole broadside for the planet below if there should be some resistance. "Launch fighters. Engage the enemy."

 

Fighters streamed out and plans were implemented, and the first shots were fired. War had indeed once again come to the galaxy.

[Sgt. Slaughter]

The Republic fleet answered seconds after the Empire's barrage with a volley of its own. The range between the two squadrons was too extreme for the energy weapons to cause significant damage””save for immolating the rare fighter that failed to evade the incoming fire””but it was clear that the battle had been joined and the Imperials had taken the first shot.

 

The Republic fleet began to fan out, the three MC90 Cruisers on the right flank and their supporting craft advancing from the broad edge of the arrowhead to present an inexorable front to the incoming attack. Valkyrja, Toprawa, and Impervious and their escorts would be more than a match for anything the Imperials could throw at them. Closer to the rear of the formation, the Imperials lost contact with the Carrack Light Cruisers””something had caused them to disappear from their sensors.

 

On the bridge of Rancor, General Aesop unconsciously took a step back from the canopy when a lucky turbolaser struck the deflector shields that protected the bridge. So the Empire possessed a very slight advantage in this fight, but it had only just begun. When the great brawl began, it would be a fight that the Mon Calamari reputation for durability had an edge. ”œAnd so our names become infamous. Join your marines, Captain; we can expect to face boarding parties.”

[Haphaestus]

Inquisitor Haphaestus watched the opening stages of the battle unfold in a detached sort of way. Ultimately, the lives of Imperial crewmen meant little to him, and he saw no flaws in his initial setup, especially now that his pincer movement was coming together and flanking warships were converging on the energy-filled nexus of the battle. The Star Cruisers were tough, to be sure, but he ordered the concentrated fire from his Star Destroyers' heavy guns on one of the cruiser's bow, and it didn't take long for even those tough shields to erode.

 

But the Empire would not lose while he lived, and this was why: he now returned to his command chair and submerged himself in the dark side of the Force. When he had come into existance in his present form, it had been at the command of the Lord Nurgle, one of the Chaos gods. His role under Nurgle was to be his general, the commander of all his armies of shambling minions.

 

As such, he had developed over the years an ability very similar to the Battle Meditation techniques of old. Through the dark side he stretched his influence across the battlefield until the Imperial fleet became him. It was like binding the whole fleet to one consciousness, controlling its elements like body parts, however sluggish. His machine-efficient mind and powerful tactical algorithms, reinforced and developed by thousands of years of experience and the ingenuity of an organic genius, then reformulated some of the specific positions of the ships involved in the growing conflict to maximize their efficiency.

 

He touched the minds of his enemies as well, inspiring fear that caused them to make mistakes. He nearly crippled them with mere intent. He found the mind of General Aesop and began to suspect that more Republic ships were inbound--without words he adjusted his fleet to compensate. Then he found the mind of the sole Jedi in the area--one Scorp Ession.

 

Come, little Jedi. While I live, you cannot win. Fight me.

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

He blasted out of the hanger, behind him streamed numerous Alliance attack craft. It was done, the battle plan was complete and he was happy to have been apart of it. The enemy's capital ship known by a ridiculous and very personal shot at the Alliance's known admiral, was his target. With out the need for his hands on the controls, he focused all of his attention into keeping enemy starfighters off of his ship, through a combination of blinding flashes, and the manipulation of the force itself. It was a remarkable display of battle prowess between his ship and the Alliance craft following as they maneuver in unison, dodging flack and enemy laser fire. Assault in a synchronous ballet he almost laughed by the sudden explosion of images that erupted in his mind, when the ship was violently rocked, by enemy fire too close for comfort.

 

As the Jedi moved toward their assaulting target, it was important to note that the Victory II Star destroyers were suddenly abuzz with more trouble than they could handle. It was so much that swarms of Alliance attack craft were setting their ships ablaze, as it was that the Massive warships themselves had been moved ineptly into a difficult position. Unlike the Victory Class Start destroyers, these, where ill equipped to actually obtain Atmospheric flight. It was perhaps through the machinations of the Imperial Sith commander alone, that kept the ships, still flying, even though the situation was beyond favorable for them.

 

All the more reason that commander needs to go down. Unable to command effectively yet too powerful to the point, we can't even capitalize fully on the blunder.

 

Sudden comm. Chatter blasted through the rather silent cockpit.

”œ There are too many of them. ”œ

 

”

[Sgt. Slaughter]

Far from the grand duel of the two fleets, a group of three Quasar Fire-class Carriers jumped out of hyperspace and began to disgorge their complement of E-Wings and B-Wings. After the Imperials had chosen to isolate a group of their own ships, General Aesop had called in his reserve to deal with the two Victory II-class Star Destroyers. Their carriers stayed just inside Selvaris' gravity well, prepared to retreat into the shelter of hyperspace if they came under assault, but their quarry dove without hesitation into the planet's atmosphere, intent on brutalizing the pair of isolated destroyers serving as artillery pieces for the Imperial fleet.

 

Unless the Imperials diverted fighters from the frontlines to deal with the threat, those two ships were gone.

 

In the midst of the battle, Agape, one of the two Mon Calamari cruisers that held Rancor's flanks, came under heavy assault. This accelerated Aesop's battle plan. The blunt arrowhead of the Republic armada began to advance.

_______________________________________________________

 

Captain Slaughter began to return to Rancor's hangar to muster his men for the battle, when a cold wave of realization struck him.

 

If the Imperial commander survived this battle and made it to”¦ wherever his wife was stationed, his/its command would butcher Corell. No, it wouldn't even be that; those Star Destroyers would simply slag the Martyriai. If his wife was lucky she would be vaporized, converted to her constituent atoms and water vapor under the devastation of their cannons. If she was unlucky, that meant a slower death, probably dying of asphyxiation in a dead ship without life support, without a hope of rescue.

 

That thought was enough to make Bruce halt in fear. Covering his mouth with his hand, the hilt of his vibroknife brushed against his forearm. Out of some instinct that he didn't understand, he gripped the blade and drew it, his eyes scanning the laser-etched engravings in its flat. They were nothing fancy””it was nothing more than a listing of the wielder's unit and the emblem of the Talons, three eagle claws emblazoned over the logo of the old Rebellion””but it reminded Slaughter of who he was.

 

The Talons were not regular infantry. They were comprised of elite units that had survived training that even the Mandalorians would have tipped their helmets to, in the name of cultivating an enduring spirit that would cause any of them to trust any other man in their regiments with their lives””even a complete stranger””and to defy any opposition they faced. It didn't matter where it came from: their superiors during PT, the fear of an upcoming battle or deadly skill of the enemy, or even the scythe of the reaper”¦ even if for only a few seconds.

 

Talons did not shrink from the enemy. They kept striking at them with everything they had””weapon, body, and soul””until they were called from the fight or they died. No matter what dangers he faced, Captain Slaughter knew that he could count on his command, his division, and the whole of the Republic's armed forces to stand with him.

 

A terrible energy filling his blood, Captain Slaughter made his way to Rancor's primary hangar, where his men were preparing their LAAT/i gunships for when their forces would inevitably be called into the fray. What he saw didn't exactly please him. His own executive officer seemed distracted, making his inspections with only half his attention.

 

”œOi.”

[Haphaestus]

"The Jedi has boarded, my lord," an officer reported.

 

"Captain," Haphaestus said, turning to face that officer, his voice especially intimidating on this fine day. "Take over the fleet. I will combat the boarding party." He then turned on his heel and left the bridge with long strides, his dark cape trailing behind him.

 

It took him less than a minute to reach the Jedi--they had been making excellent progress through the rabble of stormtroopers that had rallied against them. But it was without stormtroopers that he now moved down the hallway towards the inevitable encounter.

 

As he began to hear the humming of lightsabers, he used the Force to tuck his cape back behind the shoulder guards of his armor so that it would not interfere with his movements in combat. Then he drew from his back his weapon of choice--not a lightsaber, but a long, six-foot staff made of darkmetal.

 

Finally he rounded the corner and found the Jedi and his apprentice. He had no escort, and the stormtroopers in the area had backed off or been killed. Their lives meant nothing to Haphaestus. Right now, the only lives he cared about were those of his opponents--and he cared about them only because he sought now to end them.

 

He stopped and stared at them, completely still and in a stance that was deceptively utilitarian. His challenge was silent, and his encompassing armor of the same black metal that formed his staff hid him so well that one looking at him would have no idea what he was. Through the Force, he was an entity comprised of deepest darkness and, in the presence of enemies such as he was now, malice.

 

((I propose a three-post modded duel against you and your apprentice. You can start.))

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

He still remembered the first time he had killed a stormtrooper. The feel he had had, and how horrifying it had been for him as he contemplated the death of that man, and all the connections now severed that he once had. He had utterly wished for nothing more than to have taken back that action, yet his commanding master at that time, had told him in rather crude terms to get over it. It was there that he did not understand but instead consoled himself with the knowledge of there was no death but there was indeed the force.

 

Even now as Stormtroopers fell before him, he did not enjoy in the taking of their lives, perhaps to the chagrin of the Alliance men he was leading into battle. He had come seeking a peaceful solution to this system, and once again seem to have found himself in the utter chaos that seems to be war.

 

He was a Jedi guardian first and foremost but his ideas, seemed to stray from the more luminary guardians in his order.

A mind to serve for the peace of all beings in the Galaxy, and not the mind of one who wishes to be strong or who practices only to fell an opponent. What I do is not a technique to fight and defeat an enemy. It is a way to reconcile the Galaxy, and create the larger family. My life is in service to the greater good.

 

 

As silent death gurgles befell the fallen stormtroopers, the lone Jedi master couldn't help but pause at seeing such men retreat from his sword.

Perhaps they are learning. Yet I fear it just means something worse is on the way.

 

Scorp was by not short measure fully immersed with in the force. To be one with the universe was his greatest strength the focus of his self created battlemind. This from all intents and purposes still seemed to be different than the main stream version practiced with in the order. For him, he was not just Scorp, he was Scorp , Ilum, Sils. The Alliance soldiers who rallied behind him, the Imperial stormtroopers that retreated. He was the discarded and charred armor of the men who had lost their lives and were strewn about. The hull of the ship, and the vacuum of space, he was all of this and more, yet he was still himself, and as such a paragon of light against the rising tide.

 

It did not take him at all by surprise when he arrived. Having felt him in the coming long before the monster of a man seemed to arrive clad from head to toe in an armor that his trained eye screamed at him was nearly impenetrable yet hastily constructed.

 

I suppose I can't just run up and hit him with the blade now can I.

 

His padawan seemed to scream in protest however, finding it far easier to communicate through his emotions than through words. The Jedi master gave a mental head shake no. It was not his padawan's felt for feeling the way he did. After all, he was just a padawan, he had not yet mastered the concept of conquering his recklessness, nor his aggression.

 

Ilum, relax, I sa”¦.

He felt the surge long before it happened. Though the being had only been here for less than a minute, the Alliance troops had spotted him and done what any trooper would do. Attempt to bring him down”¦. Hard!

 

The troops were special. It seemed sgt Slaughter had provided him with rather well equipped men. The troops that he had been leading into battle used carbines that all have a highly flexible grenade launcher--capable of firing buckshot rounds, all manner of grenades, even single-use flamethrowers. A smaller number of them have Squad Automatic Weapons.

 

To make matters worse were also equipped with Urban Wolf Spiders. They're nowhere as huge as the big ones of course. These are roughly man-sized, on four legs, equipped with blasters, an anti-droid booma cannon and occasionally a concussion grenade launcher. They also have shield generators. From what he had seen so far, they do not go down easily--they can have half their body blown off, and they'll still go down fighting.

 

As a result, it came of no surprise by the severity of their response.

 

”œTAKE HIM DOWN MEN HARD!”

[Haphaestus]

Haphaestus stayed completely still as the attack from many sources came in. He had no need to move, no need to evade the attacks, and no need to defend himself physically. Instead he drew himself deeply in the lightless side of the Force which he served and, specifically, tapped on the special abilities that Lord Nurgle had taught him on Almas.

 

He absorbed energy from the environment around him. Arrayed against him were mostly bullets, grenades, and flame-based attacks. The flame was the easiest to absorb--it was raw energy and not very powerful. The bullets were a little trickier, but his advanced mind hypothesized on how to deal with them without letting them hit his armor and risk finding an unprotected sliver therein, then he implemented this hypothesis in the time it took the rounds and grenades to cross the distance to him.

 

Instead of absorbing raw energy like fire, he instead took the kinetic energy of the bullets, absorbing it into his power reservoir. It took tremendous concentration to do such a thing given the multitude of incoming projectiles, but his mind was not bound to the constraints of those of many organics. It was truly powerful and he could focus on each shell as it approached and whisk away that energy that propelled it. Stripped of kinetic energy, the bullets fell to the ground harmlessly.

 

As he absorbed these forms of energy, the grenades came in. Now his power reservoir was growing rapidly, and it took only a small manifestation of the immense power now at his command to employ simple telekinesis and turn the grenades aside to hit the walls or launch themselves back at Haphaestus' attackers. They detonated spectacularly, shredding bulkheads and spraying deadly shrapnel which was helpless against Haphaestus' dark side particle shield.

 

The blaster bolts from the wolf spiders were a little more of a threat. Haphaestus' ability to pull energy from the environment could harness energy from blaster bolts, but he couldn't whisk them up in their entirity at his current level of skill--only weaken them. So as they came in he weakened them as he could and finally shifted his feet and posture so that several struck his armor in its strongest places and none found the few weak points.

 

His armor was extremely well-built, his name no coincidence. It was archaic in appearance but built from overlapping layers that allowed for maximum coverage and flexibility both. Its material was darksteel, conventionally indestructable, and though it was tremendously heavy, he was not limited by such simple qualities as weight.

 

They were correct to now retreat. He could not be brought down by weapons such as these, and now his power level was higher than it had perhaps ever been before.

 

Finally the Jedi drew his lightsaber, and Haphaestus knew that he had come upon the truth--that was the only way he would ever fall.

 

The dark side surged around him and in the blink of an eye he seemed to disappear from his current location and cross the distance to his target, the older of the Jedi, his staff now in his hands and his cape sweeping behind him. He put the power of the dark side and his powerful, hidden servomotors behind his first blow, wielding the tremendous force of a thick metal staff propelled by an engine that needed no muscles.

 

And this was why even a lightsaber could not defeat Haphaestus--it was his superior choice of weapon. The staff could tangle with a lightsaber alright, but a lightsaber couldn't tangle with a staff; a blade of light was weightless and a Jedi wielding it that attempted to parry such a weapon took the full force of the blow on their wrists, having nothing solid with which to counter the weight of the staff.

 

It was kinetic force that Haphaestus had absorbed in the beginning of the battle, and it was kinetic force that would make him the victor.

 

((1))

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

Steam rose from the bulkheads and hallway in waves. The thin white wisps were unable to escape the blackened bulkheads, and halls that were their environment. Rising from the darkened areas, yet unable to disperse into the greater environment. Trapped. It was fitting, for the light side paragon who faced off against a seeming abomination. As no matter how hard he sought, he could not find the basic biological processes that powered all life, inside of his foe. It was almost as if he was a void in the matte, or simply did not have them.

The Jedi Master took a single step back, more out of surprise than any need to gather extra footing, when out of the flames and after math the being stood, having moved not an inch. Dark splotches were slightly discernable in his darker armor signifying the blaster fire at least, yet for all intents and purpose, the monster of a man seemed to be about as harmed as a flower in the field.

 

Really, what is he indestructible?

 

It was strange, this being was something his current state could not connect with, a cause of much concern, as he mentally argued with Sils, even as it dawned on him that the being was still fully functional. Images filtered through his mind. Counter points, to his argument that she had misled him. After all if anything, he seemed far more powerful than before. He almost seemed to radiate the power.

Though the humidity was indeed bothersome, he wasn't one to be bothered by it. If anything he welcomed it. With the fires out, there was at least no more cause for his robes to feel like they were being glued to his skin by a small child. Or in the tackiest way possible.

His eyes tracked, his hands moved, and his stance seemed firm. The double bladed move to parry the incoming blow from the staff of the man he faced. Scorp had living in the galaxy a long time. He knew that the fame of a lightsaber was rather wide spread, and further more knew that no being would rush an armed Jedi, with a blunt staff, unless it could resist the cutting power of the powerful blade. He was however, caught by surprised on the simple speed of the man. He would have imagined that the armor he wore, which was far heavier looking than anything he would have dreamed as being a personal armor, would weigh the being down. However, the creature seemed to be on par in terms of speed along with himself.

 

Bloody sith and their surprises.

 

As the first blow rained down upon him, the sheer force of the blow and kinetic power behind it, allowed for the lightsaber to seemingly slip through his fingers. Skidding to a stop a rather decent distance away, a sudden and brief moment of fear over came him. Not at the thought of being disarmed, as one might assume, but instead at being separated from his padawan, while fighting this Sith Master, in melee combat.

 

Still the force was his ally, and he was the force, and the force was he. As such padawan and Master were one. Bridged by the connection that bound the galaxy together. There was a reason he was a rather laid back gentleman. He generally found such things as frustration and stress to get in the way of his efficiency. Not with a blade as most would assume but, instead with his body. To him everything was simply being a minor set back. Quickly leaping out the way of incoming blows, he expect no respite. No time to power up like he was in some sort of animated holoshow for kids. So he simply moved. For him that was were his gift truly was. The ability to use physical exercise as a form of meditation.

 

With no lightsaber to distracted him, his full focus could now be on his body, and bringing forth the abilities that lie within. There was no need to close his eyes and concentrate as he was immersed with in the force, and the more active he was, the strong he became. A benefit of the Lightsaber style he had chosen to amply in the past.

 

Unnaturally quick, he drew on the force, and his own peak of human conditioning. The tissues in his hands able to bring an unbearable level of heat to anything they touched, as the fortitude he had over the force and his body, allowed him to bring the temperature up high enough, with in him, to have his hands become akin to molten slag of fire. Most trained martial artist seemed like a blur to their opponents, yet to anyone who watched the intricate dance that Scorp preformed, it was not so much of a blur, as he simply was there, and then was not there. Maximizing his speed with the strikes, to the utter most efficiency, and willing to give no regard what so ever in terms of distance. With the force as his ally, and he its tool, they served each other, and it gave him range that far exceeded that of a regular martial artist. The idea of projected fighting briefly flashed in the mind of his padawan As Scorp continued to dance, bring forth his best defense as a good offense and probing for weakness in the defense of the Sith master.

 

--

Sils was disturbed. How could she have been so wrong. She had been sure the creature was drawing energy from the air through static electricity, yet if anything, the being felt even more powerful than it had previously. It was most perplexing.

 

She racked her mind, even as she flew through the air. After all, how was that movement any different than any other she had been experiencing so far? As far as she was concerned no orientation mattered, because she was able to get the same feed back either way.

 

Perhaps if I had the ability to use the force such as the others I would be able to lend more in this fight. As it is, I am restraining myself, through the help of this crystal. Otherwise, I know with this much force use, I would have long been out of control

 

As the Jedi master moved, she student the opponent. He was no normal human to be sure, that much was certain. Perhaps he was simply a cyborg. Maybe he was even more cyborg than man! She communicated as such with her master, the visual clues appearing in most of her images. Unlike Ilum who could simply talk when he choose. She was limited or perhaps better described as free to explore this avenue of communication.

 

The Jedi Master's response however surprised him.

Really, he expects me to do that. Well I suppose I could give it a shot, but I am all by myself, surely he realizes it will be nothing like it shall be back home!

 

She communicated her intention with Ilum, and he responded back that he had a plan to help. Feeling some what comforted by this, she opened her self up, instead of leaning on the support of the crystal, and felt the force flowing through her. While she herself could not manipulate the force. The force when in use around her did cause a rather involuntary reaction. It was one of the reasons she leaned on the crystal so heavily for support. As she watched the Jedi master moved with a flawless grace, she began to see things in terms of black and light. He being a bright beacon that she felt she could draw strength from. An unlimited supply, all in service of the light side. She would amplify the light and life energy he seemed to embody. Amplify it, and do her best to help take down the dark creature that for all intents and purposes depressed her. A Sith master as he was being called by the two Jedi. She wanted to time this right, as well as give Ilum his chance to set up as he called it. So she readied the weapon systems of her new home. With her locked on target so to speak, as soon as Ilum gave the signal to go, she let loose and in her hoor she was aimed right at the Jedi master. As he seemed to suddenly duck, she found her darts had been aimed right above the man's eyes, and would doubt get stuck in there lodge with in the some what flesh folds that protected that orifice. A waste of the emp darts she wished to employ, as she had been attempting to hit a part she deemed to be cybernetic.

 

With no reservations, she gave herself over to her ability and it seemed at first as if a small ec detonator had gone off. A sudden spark and charge light up in the air, electric tendrils firing off in all directions. more began to appear, before the room seemed to pulse in an emp wave, that the lightsaber was just out of reach for. While that had nothing to do with her ability, it had frightened her just enough to reclaim her dependence on the crystal cutting her mini electrical storm short. She could only hope what she had done would be enough.

 

--

Ilum couldn't describe the feeling he was having. Was it fear? Did he fear this Sith Master. Separated from his master the way he was, he knew it only to be physical but still, it was like he wanted to hurt the Sith. Hurt the man so the man couldn't hurt him. If he had arms, he knew he would no doubt be attempting to strangle the man if only to keep him from causing this”¦.fear that seemed to be welling up inside of him. It was unbecoming of a Jedi to feel so fearful. He knew this, and yet, here he was cowering in such a manner, while his Master fought toe to toe, with the dark cesspit, with nothing more than his bare hands.

 

Suddenly a cool relaxing, perhaps calming energy seemed to fill his entire being. It was his master, reaching out, touching him with the force, calming him, even as he fought for his very life, against a being, who judging by the force of the initial blow, would shatter bones in his master's body, should a blow ever connect. If it wasn't for the Jedi Master's extreme agility, and balance, he was sure the man would be lying in a broken heap by now.

 

Yet what could he do, he was so”¦helpless. Earlier he had been chided for recklessness earlier. He had wanted nothing more than to allow the cyan blade, to be the extension his will and burn that 6'7 monster's heart out. Not because he held malice toward the being, but to prove his wroth, as a tool of the lightside. To be equal in role to his master.

 

Yet here was basically on the side lines, being”¦. consoled of all things by a man focused on fighting for not just his life but the lives, of so many other. Even the lives on the surface could be potentially hanging in the balance, and still his master seemed unfazed by all turns of events.

 

Gah what kind of Jedi am I? I know I am just a padawan but, surely I can do SOMETHING!

 

With his attention focused on the battle, and his inability to do anything, he almost missed Sils, message. If he couldn't have turned to face her, he would have, a human mechanism, that he seemed to be in some respect mirroring at least in feeling. No doubt always being next to a human, at all times. Unless you counted now, which was the most important time of all to be next to the man and here he was stuck on the sidelines. He simply did not have the patience his people were renowned for, nor that of a Jedi, perhaps he was simply an abject failure.

 

Still as soon as she let him on what she planned, to do, he knew he had to find some way to help her.

 

”˜Hold on lady, I have a plan hold out as long as you can.'

 

With that said, no he actually needed a plan. There was no way he was going to continue to be useless. It seemed however, that he had already reached in idea, before he had even contemplated it. Concentrating with the force, he focused on the single rather fast moving object in the room. Attached to the man who was doing his fair share of leaping and running, all to probe and prod the defenses of a being, who so far, had seemed unstoppable.

 

SUCCESS

 

While he had advanced past the stage of moving rocks, his actual telekinetic powers, were not, the strongest. Which is why even he was surprised by the success he had in the matter. He knew he had to move quickly, humans were known for getting tired, especially when performing extreme feats of what they call endurance. Plus he had to contend with the fact that Sils felt like she was about to explode. Yet given what Sils had communicated so far. She wanted to damage the man's cyborg parts in order to reduce the Sith Master's fighting power. How she knew the man had cyborg parts was beyond him. If anything, he thought she was guess. Still anything was worth a shot.

 

As the small beads or spheres rolled out of the pouched, or really were flung about every time Scrop moved. Ilum grabbed the thing and moved them into position. It was in effect scattering marbles all across the floor. And while one would think this would only hamper his master even further. It was though the man knew where each one was, and while it didn't seem like it, Ilum suspected he took great care in avoiding them.

 

Rushed for time, He gave Sils the go ahead, as he maneuvered the last one into position. As her ability was unleashed, he focused on the small marbles that now lay strewed all around the two Masters. His uninterrupted manipulation of the force allowed for a sudden wave of emp energy to wash up between the two masters. Each little sphere had a blast raidus of one meter, and so the area was awash rather quickly. Like a smooth rolling wave, it came out, comlinks fried, amongst the fallen troopers who still lay strewn about around and between the two masters. He had made sure that destructive energy wouldn't reach him, as he wasn't as organic as his master, and so, he would actually be affected in the same was the cyborg parts would hopefully be effected.

 

He did however, experience what his master seemed to feel. His entire body being hit by the emp with the added benefits of Sils abilty combing up and inbetween the two masters. If his master hadn't been all natural. He would have surly felt the emp energy entering through every open orifice in his body.

 

Suddenly a loud warning blared in his mind. Robotic legs quickly deplored, he and Sils Skirted away by his master's command, as the realization dawned on him, that everything so far had either been one amazing adaptation or another, or one rather massive plan having been brought together in a relatively short time span.

 

--

Scorp was thankful that emp energy didn't actually harm him. Especially when Sils, was trying to for all intents and purpose, electrocute everybody in the room. As the emp washed over him, he leapt away, leaving two significantly large spheres, in his wake. There were perhaps eye level had Scorp grown about five or so inches. There was really no time to clear it, which meant there should have been no time for the Sith master to clear it either. Still Scorp felt the painful electric charge course through his body. Every single solitary pore, seem to be alight with both fire and flame. He briefly wondered if he was being punished for some unknown crime but a merciless God. Then it was over.

 

The idea of taking down cyborg parts had been a sound one. Granted he hadn't known where they were, she he figured attack the body over all, and get lucky and hit something. As long as the Sith was inevitably hampered, all would be well. Hitting the still hot deck plates with the slapping of wet flesh. He spent no time leaping to his feet, with the same move, that little kids find to be the most fascination. Both feet hitting the deck, he charged the Sith Master. He had been bracing for the electric charge of the ec detonators. The Sith Master couldn't have possibly known. Lacking for air, and his eyes unfocused from the charge, his aim was to land a bone jarring punch to the Sith Master's temple. Perhaps he would be so lucky as to knock enough sense into him, the man would change his ways and convert.

 

(2)

[Haphaestus]

The two beings fought now, opposites in almost every respect. Haphaestus had enjoyed the success of his staff against the Jedi lightsaber, but now the smaller man had proven slippery enough to consistently evade his following attacks, a curious show of skill that Haphaestus had been fond of using himself in the past. Whether it would be necessary in this duel suddenly seemed questionable, as the Jedi made no move to recover his weapon and attack.

 

If one fights without attacking, a blow will never be struck, he thought. It was actually an addage from some obscure culture, but it was also simple truth. From it Haphaestus now extracted one thing in particular--this Jedi had another means of attacking. If not directly from him via the Force, it would instead be from his allies.

 

The Sith Master's premonition became truth when he detected small beads that his sensor systems immediately labeled as EMP devices. They detonated, but Haphaestus needed only a small fraction of a second to prepare for such an attack--all he needed to do was shield his eyes.

 

In Lord Nurgle's brilliance, he had seen fit to cloth Haphaestus with living flesh. It was a large part of how he accessed the Force, and it was also a large part of his strange mix of life and machine. But this flesh was much better than that of humans, as it was an excellent insulator that protected him from many of the common weaknesses that machines shared, such as Electro-Magnetic pulses.

 

Now, this would still be a problem, since his photoreceptors were without this covering of skin. In the blink of an eye, internal distortion fields raised--his model's original defense against this form of attack, he shut down his photoreceptors and many other internal functions that he could do without, and pulled up a Force shield around his systems to protect them from the ravaging energy that now enclosed him.

 

The result was more or less satisfactory. Although his mental processing was tremendously fast, hardware often required a moment to shut off. He had to override some of these systems to protect them from the blast and it caused a number of programming assertions throughout his bodily systems. Here and there he lost a minor function, but he had saved his primary systems and now had to reboot several others.

 

He had averted the worst of the attack, but the reboot would take several seconds, during which time he was without vision, sensors, a large amount of processing and deep storage memory, his ALU was out of it, several registers, and various other mechanical devices that made him function normally. In short, most droids would be borked, to label it with a crude Basic term.

 

During these several seconds, Haphaestus experienced something very unusual--the complete takeover of his organic brain to fill all of the current functions of his consciousness, almost like the concept of brain plasticity at an extreme. For these several seconds, he suddenly thought as a pure organic would think, and, frankly, it was a completely alien experience. His thoughts seemed to slow and what he had referred to as toxins--emotions and biological sensations--were suddenly experienced as the sum of his existence.

 

What he was feeling the most right now were pain from his skin, which was distressed by the physical attack as well, though not nearly to the extent of his mechanical being, and anger. Ah, yes, anger. That sensation which he had labeled "toxin 1", the base emotion of organic minds. Since he was a Sith, it was perhaps his favorite emotion, and suddenly nostalgia for all the times he had been angry rose into his mind. Training apprentices, fighting battles, killing bystanders--these things held a warm place in Haphaestus' proverbial heart.

 

The greatest thing about anger, he noted with a touch of pure glee, was how it brought the mind to focus and made the dark side swell around him. Suddenly that lust for power that had brought him down this road swelled though him, and the dark side answered its call. There it was, so wonderfully dark and euphorically evil. Haphaestus cheerfully noted that his opponent had made a flaw in conceiving this attack--although he had designed it based on some assumption that Haphaestus was at least part machine, he had also designed it to fill the air with... energy.

 

Energy that was now sucked into Haphaestus and instantly converted to a tremendous amount of rampant Force power. Without his superior mechanical processing to channel it properly, the Sith Master simply let it out in all its raw glory--the result was a wash of malevolent, coursing dark side power that was necrotic, poisonous, hot and cold all at the same time. It was just about everything dangerous in the galaxy whirled mindlessly about the room.

 

Haphaestus let out raucous laughter, a sound his recovering vocabulator jargled and cracked, given to pure emotion for a moment of gleeful evil in the wake of which came such terrible wrath that he for the first time in his existence gave himself to it. It was something he would never allow himself to do when in control of himself properly, but now the dark side embraced his outburst like a father seeing his son take his first steps and trying to make those first steps as good as they could be.

 

The Sith became a blur as his staff was once again whirling at his opponent regardless of whatever condition he was left with after the preceeding burst of dark side power. Never had Haphaestus experienced such a moment of pure, glorious insanity and at the same time such pure organic focus--his attacks came out perfectly every time and even those that missed their mark dented the floor and walls around him, such was the strength behind them.

 

He almost didn't want his mechanical self to reboot, though that time was approaching rapidly.

 

((2... that was a fun post. ))

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

Perhaps the man felt pain before Scorp struck. Having two darts lodged right above the eyes after all would bring a sharp piercing pain to anyone. Yet it was trivial compared to the amount of pain Scorp brought to the table. The Sith master hadn't even attempted a dodge. No doubt relishing in the pain that was furiously unleashed upon him upon the conclusion of the charging Wampa.

 

The fist seemed to move in slow motion liquid muscle, and a dense fist exploding with powerful impact in the droid's right temple. Dust flew up from the impact, as the skin on the druid was severely burned if not sheered away by the blow. While in general this move is started with a jaw blow, he had been hoping for a punch that could be a knock out, or allow him to finish either way. A fact the Sith master was no doubt aware of, as both os Scorp's arms came crashing into the droid's neck. Dust from his clothing seem to leap from his body, and find ways into the cracks and joints in the Sith's armor.

 

Yet as Scorp sound found out it came with a cost as pain beyond measure seemed to slam into his left arm. Stars exploded before his eyes, and the still struggling the breath jedi gasp and tumbled to the floor, rolling with the blow of the staff, as his mind reeled. He accepted the pain, it was like a label. It told him what was wrong and where, and to avoid damaging it in the future while his body worked to repair it.

 

Feels like he broke my arm, seems immoveable. Gah

 

His mind quickly worked to seal of the pain, the meditation he was employing allowing him to lock it away. Controlling it, not but shunting aside but, instead by not letting it become a distraction for him. Acutely aware of his now broken left arm, he was still fully immersed in the force and so found a sudden revelation surprising.

 

So he does have an organic mind. Perhaps the frying of the cyborg parts reveled his organic mind due to some device which shields it from Force users. Yet that doesn't explain just why I can't feel anything else organic.

 

He felt for his padawan, strengthened not only by his resolve but the fact that he was still fine.

--

If he had never experienced pain before it was his first glimpse through the eyes of another. It was an interesting phenomena that didn't register much, for him but did allow a glimpse into the inner workings of his Master's mind. Perhaps the force of the blow had disrupted the carefully guarded mental fortitude that surround the Jedi master. However, it was in that one moment that he finally understood.

 

It wasn't a matter of winning or losing. It was a matter of working for the big picture. Scorp had no personal vendetta against the Sith, nor did he feel particularly compelled to fight the being. He fought because, the Sith was an obstacle in the way of achieving a peaceful state around this planet. He did not fight with the idea of winning. Simply of the idea of removing the obstacle however he could, in order to continue the flow of the force, in an uninterrupted nature. Perhaps that is what it meant to be a Jedi.

 

In an instant thanks to their merge, he knew what he must do. With the robotic legs still deployed he began to climb up vertically in order to get into position.

--

She didn't know she had even had that with in. She knew on some level she couldn't but to the extent she had, still shocked her. Excusing her pad pun.

 

Feeling empowered and emboldened, she allowed the crystal to be her conduit, not just feeding off of the energy supplied by the beacon of light battling against the sea of darkness that seemed to roll off of the monster of a creature. She instead threw he full support behind the Jedi master, amplifying his force abilities as only a member of her species could.

--

Mentally he knew he was fighting unarmed at full capacity. There was nothing, he couldn't feel with the force. Everything seemed to bend, to aid, to protect and augment. When he leapt, instead of crashing into a wall like so many others would have done, the wall seemed to give, if ever so slightly to him. Give and then as if a trampoline send him back out into the air with his leap. The air began to sparkle as he tore apart the area on his left arm that seemed to contain the most dust.

 

In a elegant dance weave, he moved about, the Sith attacking furiously with his staff, and Scorp doing his best to avoid the bloody thing, lest something else of him ended up like his arm. It was a delicate dance, in gruesome settings. The only audience worth mentioning, being the fallen stormtroopers. Utterly finished, in all ways, except by their unblinking helmeted stare.

 

As a student of a force and its tool, he altered it in a way. Much like diverting a small portion of a river in order to feed crops, he was doing something similar. He was altering the flow of the Force around him to create a protective shield around himself. Feeling empowered by Sils, and by his padawan, he felt truly connected to everything. The gentle air currents that were being slashed apart by the furious engagement between the two seemed to be as much a part of him as his own blood stream. Moving in between them, he was almost creating a vacuum in his wake, always dodging, yet at the same time never really leaving the area.

 

He was in unity; all things seemed to come in time for him to react. As if though with the activation of the Sith's organic brain, he was a highlight entity, needing not so much a watchful eye, as he need to simply move and react. Combat sense and battle mind working in unity, showing him what was coming, and while it was coming.

 

Yet his mind was always at work, especially given the perplexing feeling and suspicion he was doing the impossible, by fighting an organic druid that had the ability to use the force. Yet thought is not what consumed him but, instead feeling and intuition. From the moment his hand hit, to when his arms struck, he was certain that the Sith Master he had been fighting was no living creature but instead a druid, which explained just about everything, except why on earth it, had an organic brain now.

Never the less the strategy was already being worked out. Now words were needed to form such a thing it simply was, and all parties understood. Clearly there was a fine line between the organic and the mechanical part of this unique creature, and all things considered. Chances were when the link between the two had been frayed, the organic brain had appeared as a dominant life saving feature, which he was sure would end up to the droid's chagrin, as proving organic life was superior to the mechanical life he had.

 

Yet, given the complexity of the druid, and if his gut feeling was correct,, and extensive use of the dark sire would end up as severely detrimental to the being, especially given the loss of its mechanical functions. He could tell as, the druid already seemed to exhibit the signs of such. The normal mind set and general attitude of a Sith seeming to be broadcasted from the organic mind.

 

With a calm peace of mind he felt the force reach its climax. The sudden snap hiss of a lightsaber was heard as the double bladed unit dropped from the ceiling, aimed at the flesh, and not as well protected head of his adversary. The hidden dart launcher sprang up once more, and fired forth darts, this time meant to strip an organic of their force power, the more they drew upon it. Invading the system with a force reactive chemical that would react the more the infected tried to use the force. Inhibiting the ability until the one in question passed out due to exhaustion.. Summoning the force however, Scorp gave a push. Not one that would move boulders, but it was enough. In a low static blue flash, the dust activated, and everywhere the dust had been laid, it reached out. The two impact points on the droid's neck delivered a full stun blast charge, to course through the droid's system, while the hit to his face was only at half that power. More importantly were the joints that were hit as well, as during his masterful weaving, he had allowed the dust to cover the droid, as he relentlessly attacked, giving Scorp no cover nor mercy, yet still plenty of room to maneuver.

 

Yet to truly defeating touch, was forcing the druid to be utterly depended on his organic nature. As the darts that had been embedded above his eyes, final exploded, releasing their emp energy directly through the face. Perhaps the druid could shield its eyes again. Yet they like there spherical counterpart, had needed the force to activate, and so as the stun dust coursed through the droid's system, so did the emp. All for a single moment. A single moment in time that would end up shaping the galaxy. A single moment that would see if a lightsaber, aimed straight and true by his padawan, would skewer the druid, or would the darts simply find a new home inside of the flesh, and drop their payload.

 

Like it was said the best defense was a good offense and for Scorp, this obstacle was all but removed in one manner or another. Rushing forward, broken arm painfully trailing behind him, he started with a sideways flip intending to bring his feet down upon his opponent three times, before bashing with his only operational fist at the same time in a vertical fashion. A truly devastating spitting rawl with the power of the force behind his every blow.

 

(3 Its been fun.)

[Haphaestus]

Haphaestus' defense without what he considered his better mind was considerably different than it would have been had he still had its use. Namely, there wasn't much of one except a sort of basic instinct to avoid the effects of the attacks that were finally being made against him. There was much at work here, and his current level of understanding made it difficult to determine what they all were. So his organic mind formed a form of statement that summed up his defense--don't hurt me, but make me stronger! More darts and a strange dust was finding itself upon him, and even without his better brain he knew that these things were bad.

 

So he delayed his reboot for a brief fraction of a second longer so that when the darts exploded, there was nothing for them to disable. They wouldn't have been effective anyway, he would note later, since they were stuck maybe a millimeter into his helmet above his eyes and not actually his flesh and thus would have a particular amount of trouble getting through the thick skin on his forehead which shielded his brow as well as the actual helmet....

 

He didn't take the moment to identify the dust, but knew that it was somehow bound to energy, so when he opened himself up to the Force, he again found himself absorbing some form of energy or another and using it to feed his reservoir. His skin felt suddenly numb and his organic mind was slowed a little more still, and for the briefest moment he wondered what it would be like to be completely helpless, with both of his minds disabled. It was a strange thought.

 

At any rate, he would never find out. With a click and whirr, his mechanical mind reactivated and power flooded his systems, everything coming back at once and all over the course of a couple milliseconds. He was the sum of the day's technology, one of the most technologically advanced beings in the galaxy, perfected even more by the near-omnipotent Lord Nurgle as well as his own efforts over the many years of his existence. And so powerful was this mind that came back on that he had ample time to do a total systems check and analyze the situation even as the Jedi Master and his padawan were leaping in together to strike him down.

 

It seems that I've sustained some damage, he realized. His helmet, it appeared, had been partially mangled by some sort of attack of which he had no recollection. He remembered now how the Jedi's hands had gotten somehow hot before he had lost mechanical consciousness, and it didn't take much to determine that it had been through these means that this blow had been inflicted. Impressive, he thought, for his darksteel helmet was almost indestructable, ...and terrifying. He had been so lost in the moment, so consumed by emotion a moment before that he had completely lost track of his defenses and not even bothered to avoid the blow. He hadn't even noticed the damage until now.

 

He had finally experienced what it meant to be fully organic. It had been horrible, a total loss of everything rational, reduced to a state of impulse and emotion and sensation, those things which Haphaestus hated the most, the very antithesis of what he had been all his life until Nurgle's experiments. And yet... somehow, it had been tremendously satisfying at the same time. He had been granted such power by the dark side that now the state which he had left behind was fascinating to him, a loss of what he preferred to be but at the gain of one of the things he wanted the most--power.

 

Finally, he identified the dust and darts as some sort of stun mechanism, which easily explained the slight decrease in function of his confused and yet empowered organic mind and the numbness of his skin. Frankly, after what he had just been through, he liked this change--he was again a being of rationality and the pain that had been dancing upon his skin was dulled, leaving him with ultimate concentration. It also appeared that the Jedi had a broken arm, whih Haphaestus had probably inflicted at some point--such an injury, of course, would be the Jedi's downfall.

 

All these musings took place in the span of .322 seconds, which was a pretty long time, actually, probably because he had just rebooted. Now the Jedi and the lightsaber were growing perilously close, and Haphaestus knew it probably wouldn't be a good idea just to take the hits. He knew exactly what to do--it was ridiculously simple now that he could think clearly again. Both the attacks of the incoming Jedi Master and the lightsaber from above were vertically planar--they were coming straight at him from before him and slightly above.

 

His servomotors enhanced by the Force, he simply dodged to the side with as much speed as the Jedi himself had been dodging. As the lightsaber came down, suddenly it was the flying Jedi that would have to worry about getting out of the way. Meanwhile Haphaestus took a long step back and on the side of the Jedi's broken arm. Even as the Jedi landed, he then hurled his staff at the man's side, the action so quick that even if the Jedi had seen it coming it would be all but impossible for him to evade the attack, coming down as he was and the blow coming from the side with his broken arm.

 

Well fought, Jedi, he thought, his minds still wrapping themselves around the huge strides forward he had taken over the course of this battle.

 

((3. Well done. I'll notify the mods.))

[Jidai Geki]

Scorp versus Haphaestus:

 

Scorp, it's been said many times but I'll be the next to say it: you have improved a great deal in recent times and your posts make for a highly enjoyable, highly credible read. You use clever and interesting tactics, concede damage appropriately, and generally treat your opponent with respect.

 

You employed a wide range of tactics in an attempt to affect Haphaestus- NPC Rebel troops with flamers, your apprentices' attacks with EMP weapons, and of course your bare fists. A laudable effort.

 

Haphaestus: I think this has been said before, but your character seems to me to be simply too powerful. I'm immediately predisposed against him due to his ability to counter seemingly any attack: bullets, flames, EMP blasts, darts, lightsabres... nothing seems to be able to touch him. I would suggest taking a leaf out of Scorp's book, whose character ends this duel with a broken arm and a deactivated lightsabre- because he is prepared to concede damage when fighting a powerful opponent. You also ignored one or two of Scorp's attacks, to your detriment.

 

Your unwillingess to concede damage is in stark contrast to your written style, however, which flows nicely and is very readable. An enjoyable read.

 

To conclude: a good, lengthy duel with inventive attacks and defences on both sides, but ultimately Haphaestus' reluctance to acknowledge his opponent's attacks, as well as his frankly overpowered attributes, work to his detriment and gives the victory to a spirited, innovative Scorp.

 

Duel goes to Scorp.

[Guest]

((OOC: Due to a month long absence, and permission of character given to Black and company, Nagi has been shuffled along to this point. Picking up now.))

 

Eyes narrowed beneath the mask that hide his reptilian face, the strong snake like creature looking upon the star lit horizon of space through the view screen before him. Captain Nagi Dak-Kel was my name, and i loved the smell of battle and blood. But not for war, as it was not my cause. No, i simply loved the battle. I was a Hunter, pure and simple.

 

"Yesss, come to me Jedi and Alliance filth alike." I spoke, my forked tounge tasting the metallic hull of my helm's underplate. "Come and face the Captain of SSSSection Four, and find within me, your hollow doom."

 

I wondered if they survived Haphaestus, the sounds of battle below coming to a close. But if they had, i stood patiently awaiting their arrival. I had assumed control of the Emperor's finest battlegroup.

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

It came at him there was no time to dodge, an explosion of stars was all his vision consited of, as the staff slammed into his already broken arm. He collapsed against the bulk head, as his lightsaber hit the ground with a clatter.

 

Force guide me.

 

They say when one brandishes a women, they say to the world a WARROR I AM. However, he wasnt predisposed to take a life that day. No, if he could help it he wouldn't slay this, unquie creature, as he coudl feel on a subtle level, that the droi had, had no choice in following the dark path. It was simply a bad gathering of Masters.

 

The force surrounded him, it had cusioned the blow, kept teh scream from exiting his throat that any other man would have let lose with a roar. Instead, his being was refocused in a different way and with a focus direction he fired forth his own unquie power. The power of the force consumefd the two of them, and though his efforts wern't as detailed as he would like, the end result was the same.

 

His term for it at first had been mental statis. A sort of forced coma, meant to knock out though he fougght against, yet in this case, it had been modifed to affect both organic and mechanical. A devastating resultt ailed, as the massive being collapsed, in a heap, never to move again, until Scorp released the raw application of light side power. Yet, alive and functional, just operating on those most bare levels, unable to exist beyond perhaps a dreamlike state if he was fortunate.

 

He felt the inquiry of his padawan he he grimced a smile.

 

"No young one, you can't kill everyone, no matter how much harm the inflict. Other wise, how would they ever repent?"

 

Rising to his feet a harsh cough escaped him. It woudl take a bit of time to heal himself but it could be done on the trip back to the hanger. And so it was, that way with him slowly yet surley healing, as he moved the massive yet immobile droid back to his ship. Shields raised he would not follow the way of Qui-gon Jinn's pilots as he worked removing the cheat plate of the droid's armor, cutting enough skin on the chest tof ashion a stun bolt, and pumping the organic portions full of enough force damping medication that should he have had any over sight previously, then at least the droid would still be forceless.

 

With his prisioner secured, he wondered about the last Sith he had treated in a similar fashion. Who had no doubt scaped, upon his failure over Cslia.

 

Pushing the past memories aside, he asked for a status update from the troops still in the ship.

 

"Sir, we have made it to the engines, and are planting the charges now, we had no resistence so far, and we are about to cripple this bird."

 

The second squad reported a different measure.

We are at the bridge now sir, about to preform a door breach and clean this puppy out!"

 

"Excellent was his response to both parties. Team A. Hold off on detatonation, if we take teh ship we may need the engines. Route the detanator code to my comlink, and then plan to meet with me, as back up to the team b."

 

He coughed again, his lightsaber clipped to his belt, was currently being worked on by his apprentice to get back to being fully operational.

 

----

"3....2....1 BLOW IT!"

 

The door blew inward with a crumple and rebel troops streamed into the bridge, interested in taking down the bridge with out destroying it, they withheld from flamethrowers, and instead allowed their Urban Wolf Spiders to take the brunt of the frontal charge.

 

The four legged man sized beings, shot forth multiple concussion grenades, a fitting beginnign for what was to be a short battle. Shield generators gave the troops following behind a mobile cover, from small arms fire, allowing them to focus as one on the enemy.

 

"What the devil is THAT?!"

 

"Take it down MARINE!"

 

 

As a well trained unit the squad settled their automatic weapons upon the enemy commander. Far less woried about taking people alive or dead, they unleashed a torrent of rage on the enemy commander, bullets streaming at the large snake like creature.

 

<>

[Guest]

The durasteel floor shook as the explosion ripped open the jaws of oblivion, pulling forth an immediate doom for those that followed it's path. Calmly i turned, looking over my shoulder and then twisting my full form as i turned to face my oncoming disturbance. Pathetic humans, thinking that through sheer might, they could overcome anything. But that was never the case, just as the few greats that came forth from their race had shown so many times. I thought it rather cowardly myself, but such was the way of absent mindedness.

 

 

But i was no fool. Most men were bred for war, fed war, and die in war just as these soon would. But i was a Hunter, bred for it, fed my prey, and would die only in service of my Emperor. They were not ready to face me. Before me stood those under my command, a legion of Stormtroopers who's sole purpose was to guard this bridge from capture at any and all cost. And so they would, turning before me to face these pathetic Alliance scumbags that dared attempt this feeble attack. They would soon see the bitter mistake they had made.

 

Bodies began to drop as the two forces met upon this metallic battlefield, little room for a true fight to erupt, and friendly losses beginning to exist among the opposing masses. I took in a deep breath, allowing the custom Chitin Armor that encompassed my entire form redirect and resist the oncoming energy as it was fired in my direction. My numbers had barely dwindled, save for the fearsome seven that had first met them with open arms.

 

"Let the bodiessss hit the floor." I spoke in silence, watching in silence as the first two of the seven ran forward to meet this disgrace.

 

Explosions erupted among the roaring screams of the two stormtroopers as they charged forth, their intentions of destroying the Urban Wolf Spiders with the thermal charges that laid silently strapped to their backs. "For the Emperor" were their last words, and they felt saved by their chance to give their life for that single cause, just as i did. These were my personal troops, trained by myself and none other. Their lives for the Emperor, a simple task for the simple beings.

 

"Let the bodiessss hit the floor." I again spoke in silence as the remaining five of the fearsome seven charged forward to finish what the first two began, my form protected by not only my energy resistant armor, but by the remaining legion that stood before me and gave cover fire for those who laid down their lives for our Emperor. I was truly proud of these beings.

 

More explosions ripped through the opposing forces, finishing off the Urban Wolf Spiders and claiming many lives of those that chose to use the metallic beasts as cover. Thermal charges, a deadly weapon indeed, allowed these men to die vibrantly for our Lord and Master. And for that, their families would live a happy life. I would see to that myself. I began to step forward among my men, clearing my path by gently brushing them aside as i made my way to a victorious front. Slithering forward, i came ever so closer, my men to pushing forward in the bridge's defense. I had lost only a few, but the enemy had lost many. Reaching down, i pulled forth one of the enemy, my powerful fist clutched tightly around his fragile throat as i hoisted him high into the air. My gaze turned eerily to my men.

 

"Let the bodiessss hit the FLOOR!!!" I roared, my men's attacks growing more fierce as i crushed the man's throat, and removed my helm momentarily to induldge in a feasting as i swallowed the human whole. I had grown hungry recently, and i certainly needed nourishment.

 

My men open fire, turning their modified blaster rifles from semi-automatic onto full-automatic. Flying forth, this onslaught of the Emperor's Mandalorian power rained from the heaven's if the force's own will. Though the Alliance scum had taken nearly a third of my personal legion, we still held strongly against defeat. Pulling forth my electrostaff, i stepped forward and stood before my men. Their tactics had been sloppy and misguided, and for that very reason, i still stood. Looking upon the few lucky survivors, i grimaced beneath my masked helm. And in one word led my men straight into the opened arms of victory.

 

"Charge!"

[King Kheldar vos Correlli]

KS approved. While Nagi's legion is formidable, so are the opposing Republic forces. Given the balance between the two, stopping both actively watching the battle and commanding it to eat a human downed soldier whole in the middle of battle speaks of extreme recklessness and painting a "shoot me!" target loud and clear on one's chest.

[Sgt. Slaughter]

The timing could not have been much better, for General Aesop's plan came to fruition immediately after its Sith commander's death. In the seconds of confusion while the Imperial fleet was decapitated and the chain of command was unclear, the nine Carrack Light Cruisers in the Republic's armada suddenly reappeared. They had been concealed in the drive exhaust of the foremost cruisers, hidden from Imperial sensors in a tactic similar to the genius A-Wing Slash.

 

The nine ships stabbed directly through the Imperial formation, laying waste to the fighters swarming between the two fleets. It wasn't until they cleared the maelstrom that they turned back, pumping the engines of the Star Destroyers with coherent light.

 

Planetside, the situation was looking even worse. Bereft of assistance from the remainder of the fleet, eighteen squadrons of Republic starfighters””an even mix of B-Wings and E-Wings””set upon the two Victory-II Star Destroyers. The first volley of torpedoes was disastrous for the two cruisers, and without reinforcements, the situation was only going to get much, much worse”¦

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

The fighting was brutal and fierce, as most military fighting seems to be. Yet in the end the Alliance troops stood victorious over the men in the bridge. As the Imperial commander fell to the onslaught of fire there was a silent cheer. They had done it, they had won!

 

”œMaster Ession, Bridge is secure, and the enemy commander is down. What are the orders?”

[Sgt. Slaughter]

It was as clear a victory as General Aesop could have hoped for. With the defeat of their Sith Commander Haphaestus, the extraordinary coordination that the Imperial fleet had previously enjoyed had been shattered, and with it their morale. He nodded with satisfaction, stroking his chin with fingers that he had not realized were clammy with sweat. The mystical powers that the Sith could employ were truly a double-edged sword.

 

Captain Slaughter was probably gloating somewhere. His xenophobic hatred of the Sith was well-known””he had probably already commended the assault team that had joined Master Ession (perhaps even in person) and ordered them to paint their pauldrons with a red tab.

 

Furious though his Captain's hatred towards the Sith was, it was very useful. Anger hardened his resolve in battle, and his example inspired his troops. He'd seen the recordings of his ill-fated assault on Centerpoint Station””it was rotten luck that he'd run into a battalion of some of the Arach'tar's best troops””but Aesop had found the performance of his men both exhilarating and disturbing. They fought like demons””fighting when wounded, even fighting as they died. Even those armored droids in his unit refused to lay down and die, pouring in a deluge of fire even as half their bodies were blown away.

 

Despite the Coruscanti's protestations that he wasn't a smart man, Slaughter was as fine a trooper as Aesop had ever seen. It was going to be men like him that helped take the reins of history from the Force Users and back in the hands of ordinary men.

 

The battle ended with little bloodshed. Boarding parties from the surface came to dock with the surrendered vessels to take command and damage control performed emergency repairs on ships that had one engine in the grave. Some of the gunships had been thoroughly mauled and simply had to be scuttled, but the Cruisers, thank goodness, had survived the battle largely intact. Still, it would probably be necessary to summon reinforcements from Naboo to perform their next mission.

 

After prisoners of war were collected and sent to the proper facilities, the Republic fleet left a few sensor beacons in the system's outskirts and left for hyperspace.