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Exodus

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Aryian nodded at Fett's suggestion. He trusted Fett greatly, being the commissioner of CoreSec, a former member of the Augury, and basically the only person he knew who most closely resembled Batman. It was when the droid approached him that he felt it though...something subtle...something wrong. Such a slight twinge of danger that only a master of the Force would have been able to feel it. Aryian listened to the droid's proposal before speaking his mind.

 

"Something feels wrong here. Knowing Faust...this is some kind of trap." He shook his head as the droid jerked its head back in mock offense. "Not necessarily your little meeting. Just...us coming here. Kuat in general. He might have something here he wants, or maybe this is just a dead end designed to eliminate some of his opposition before he makes another major move. I mean, this is just based on his past modus operandi, but still. Something isn't right. Maybe I should be the one to go to this meeting. That way I can read the security people, make sure they all check out. Khal, stay with the ship. If we need to get away fast, you'll be my out."

 

He turned to the droid, gesturing. "Lead on. Might as well give me an abbreviated tour of the facilities that are on the way, I've never actually seen the shipyards up close and in person."

 

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

 

Meanwhile, Aryian's 'asset', smaller than a starfighter, arrived in system. Broadcasting a signal that marked it as a courier pod, it approached a low orbit near Kuat, close enough to the shipping lanes to mask its presence to any but those that would be specifically searching visually for something out of the ordinary, but close enough to the shipyards to execute a hasty insertion. Quietly, Saladin waited for it's master's call.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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ShadowFett nodded when Darkfire took the lead on the meeting. He didn't like the situation one bit, and it was clear that Miller was uncomfortable about it as well. Miller was, after all, one of the higher ups when it came to KDY security, and everything about a Dark Trooper escorting a protocol droid seemed wrong. There was no way in haraan that there wasn't a more critical place for that expensive asset to be.

 

"K'oyacyi, Darkfire," the Mando'ad said, trusting that his meaning would be taken. Then he turned back to Miller as they were leaving and spoke in low tones. "Make sure you have eyes on them. Take the men I brought with me." Finally he turned to the Special Tactics officers. "You're with Captain Miller now."

 

With that, the ori'ramikad slipped off in the way he was most effective -- alone. He knew the way back to the security center, and his buy'ce had downloaded a map of the place and brought it up in his HUD in case he had forgotten. Soon he slipped into Miller's office and withdrew a small droid the size of his hand from one of his belt pouches, slapping her into a nearby computer outlet. "Flirt, make friends with the computer."

 

The positronic processor got happily to work, humming to herself merrily and occasionally making quiet comments flattering the KDY systems. Meanwhile, Fett used his credentials to get into the CoreSec system. The first thing he did was start tracking Darkfire toward his destination. Putting that window off to the side, he started going deeper into the system, analyzing the security for weaknesses that might be exploited by the kind of experienced hacker the demagol Faust would be able to get ahold of.

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Khal nodded to Darkfire with a concerned brow. He was getting a bad vibe from being there. Everyone knew something was up. He watched the men take their leave and then headed back up into the ship. Sitting back in the pilots seat, he leaned back and crossed his arms as usual.

 

"This isnt right. I dont like this one bit."

 

"I would have to agree with you, sir"

 

The half Mandalorian waited as he was instructed.

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The cargo ship carrying Faust into the KDY was abuzz with activity. There were troops in formation, ready to disembark, dressed as the typical Imperial stormtrooper. The one offset was modified blaster rifles with proper focusing crystals. The initial plan was to smuggle them into the three ships Faust prepared and wait for a more opportune time to act. Matters had changed.

 

Faust stood within the Bhelliom's open cockpit. A long strand of silver cords ran from the cockpit into adaptors build into the Hunter's left arm. Though the cords normally gave violent, if not deadly shocks to would be hackers or thieves, they also provided a direct cybernetic link between Faust and his alter-ego. Though the Hunter's eyes were open, part of him was busy communing with the systems on his ship, the cargo fleet, and his forces in the shipyards.

 

The rest are following the plan, but wary. Your use of the Darktrooper was uncalled for, but may be helpful with crowd control. Do what you can to kill the Captain first, then the entourage. The Grey Idiot is prescient, so if we avoid killing him first, we can thin the crowd. Have the Padawan and Mando terminated with extreme prejudice.

 

With that command given, Faust turned back to his communion. Though the command ships he needed for the operation were built, fighters and other support craft were not at capacity, yet. A raid might secure remaining TIE Hunters docked and basically mothballed after the Empire's final defeat. Linked to the KDY's systems per access he'd either earned or paid for, he was able to track the movement of his would be pursuers, particularly the Mando.

 

As for the rest of his plans for Kuat, he turned to a half-dozen white helmed and cloaked Royal Guardsmen, accompanied by an even more unsettling pair. Built like something out of a weird, alternate universe- white, caped and helmed trooper outfits modeled after Darth Vader.

 

"We wait until either Kern shows up, or for our Grey Guest to become a Grey Ghost. We will merge with the Megiddo and start a new Ritual using the modifications made to the ship. All of Kuat, save those loyal, will be stripped clean. Now, I will deal with the Mando personally.

 

With that, Faust sat back down in his ship, projecting his thoughts through the network with which he communed, adding the force of his will to the mix...

 

*****

A maintenance worker, loyal to Faust, enters the hangar with a toolbox, ostensibly to do minor repairs and tune ups. At the rear of the ship in which Khal sat, he took out a roll of tape and quietly slapped it around one of the rear engines and along some service points on the ship, trying to avoid detection by the ship's lone occupant. Never mind the tape was a baradium demolition tape.

 

*****

The droid escorting the Captain and Aryian spoke quietly as they were lead on. "We should move quickly and softly. If you're right, and I have reason to believe you have reasonable cause, this could be the worst news for our poor shipyards since the war ended." The droid makes little other idle chatter, letting the dark trooper's imposing figure at the lead clear out gawkers or others. Soon enough, they are lead to the conference room in question. "We can wait here. There's a few other matters we need to have seen to." The droid had tea summoned for his guests, incidentally one of the Hunter's favorite flavors, and waits in the conference room with them, for the end.

 

As they were all waiting, a timer slowly started, counting down from a single minute... a fact made worse by the Hunter's sudden force presence lighting up for Aryian to feel somewhere within Kuat...

 

*****

 

With Aryian, the Captain, and the CoreSec agents being escorted by the protocol droid, the agents Commander Druger sent to tail miller were now free to tail after Fett. Careful, knowing that the helm he wore provided a 360 sensor array, they followed after him, confirming his route in a way that ultimately fed back to Faust himself. As he started hacking in himself and with his droid, an oppressive presence could be felt, as if the cameras in the Security Center were watching him.

 

The first sign of something amiss was with Flirt, whose hacking suddenly went from cruising through a lightspeed hyperspace channel, to being faced with a mile-wide asteroid hurled straight at him. The droid was faced with a what felt like a cold logic and forcibly ejecting it from KDY's system, and causing what amounted to a terrible dizzy spell for a droid after a concussion.

 

Fett was not so lucky. Invisible hands appeared out of nowhere, even under his armor, gripping and tightening on his throat, choking off his personal air supply by constricting his throat. That same watching presence could be heard in his mind, projecting from some unknown location.

 

Ahhh... The Mando of insufficient light... It has been too long.... Far, far too long. Why don't you relax, my dear boy. Your life will be mine, and soon your very soul will be as well now that you are in my trap. Just relax... and breathe in... and out... and out...

 

As the Force telekinesis continued to choke the life from Faust's victim, the Hunter's taunting laughter could be heard in Fett's mind.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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((Mistake on my part. I specified when Fett was leaving HQ for this mission that he was carrying an ysalamir, specifically wary of meeting Faust, but I neglected to mention it since arrival. I'll compensate here.))

 

ShadowFett gasped and put a hand to his throat as the all-too-familiar sensation of the Force being wielded against him became the most prevalent thing in his life. The Mando'ad reached for the ysalamir he had brought in his customary beskar briefcase but found it absent. A quick check in his 360-degree vision showed that he had set it down when he had entered the office and he was sitting a little over a meter behind him -- he was just out of range of its protective bubble. Even as his vision began to gray, the Mandalorian wrenched his body around and triggered a thrust from his repulsor pack. The sudden force from the device did a number on the desk and terminal he had been sitting at but managed to toss him into the bubble, inside which the attack immediately ceased.

 

Pausing only a moment to gasp for breath, Fett triggered his low-band, encrypted comm array, installed in his buy'ce during the Augury days. "Heads up. Faust is here," he said, knowing that Darkfire would pick it up through his implant and no one else would reasonably be able to pick up on the message or decode it.

 

Flirt wasn't fairing too well, either. Dazzled but still active, Flirt started babbling about how unusual the situation was while sounding impressed by the power of the KDY computer. ShadowFett picked her up and returned her to his belt pouch, sealing the ysalamir case magnetically to his repulsor pack and gripping his assault rifle. The ori'ramikad had known it was a possibility that Faust would come himself, but now was faced with the challenge of bringing him down. Faust would never fight on someone else's terms or put himself in a position where he did not expect to win, and that meant he was fully prepared to overcome or commandeer the Drive Yards. Fett had been bested by Faust before, but since then he had taken great care to prepare himself for encounters just like that one. This time, he had the advantage no matter what Faust expected coming here.

 

At any rate, it was almost certainly going to be a fight. Mand'alor commed 2277 aboard his ship. "Twenty-two. Prep the ship, be ready to be mobile as necessary. Bring the ship's sensors online to analyze threats. Get out if you need to, provide me with support until then."

 

Now in combat mode, Fett peered out the doorway of the office, clicking off the assault rifle's safety and clicking on his penetrating radar, forming a plan. He would need to meet up with Darkfire. Alone, he had a chance of taking down Faust, but along with all of his agents and other servants it was unlikely. Fett together with the jetii would be almost unstoppable, and potent enough to unravel this plot.

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The Gamma-class Assault Shuttle Agamemnon entered the Kuat System, coming to a halt above the yards. Taking up an aggressive posture just out of range of Kuat's defensive perimeter, Kern's ship waited however for further orders, as did Kern himself. The crews were mixtures of Keshiri slave labor, well trained former imperial officers, and Sith agents vying for a position of power with Faust.

 

...

 

"Power your shields, I want nothing to interfere with the masters position or plans." Kern said as he stood from his chair, to analyze the tactical situation from his mask overlay.

 

Kern turned to M'ruka. Her pale green form armored with the mottled Sith armor, and more primitive garb crafted for her by Morrigal's agents. She stood patiently, finally ready to fulfill whatever was asked.

 

"Were not going to attack!?" She asked her words a mixture of annoyance and wariness.

 

"Not yet my steward, not yet. My master has something in motion, something special for his enemies. I'm sure we will be given a task suitable to our capabilities soon enough." He said his confidence in the darkside, and his master brimming. He felt both were like a rising tide ready to wash over what light remained.

 

"Have my remaining Keshiri-Sith Assassins ready themselves M'ruka. The master may wish us to go hunting with him. I want to be ready for any contingency. Jedi, Corsec, any manner of warrior will be swept aside upon his orders. Trust me... nothing will be allowed escape. We have had an excellent day, A day that has seen the end of Armenia Draygo, long a nuisance to my master. It will see yet more accomplished." She nodded at his words and left to see it done.

 

....

 

"I have arrived as you instructed my master. I await your orders." Kern said through the secret comm Faust had given him when he entered his service.

 

He could feel a small amount of panic from the facility below. Whatever actions were about to be taken would need to happen quickly. Surprise, ever a fleeting element, would not be on their side for long.

 

((Revised per Mod Ruling))

Edited by Guest

"Some things... are worse then death, being forgotten for example..."

Member Since '05 - The Old Ones | Character Sheet

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"No shit."

 

Aryian spoke quietly to himself in response to Fett's comm as the cogs had turned, the Hunter's plan unfolding before them. He'd expected a trap due to the lack of tour and abundance of large tibanna gas canisters outside the warehouse they'd been led to, and now, coinciding with the arrival of Faust himself, it has triggered. For a small moment, Aryian's presence burned bright as he threw himself fully into the Force, his body a mere instrument of its will. As he spoke, his eyes shimmered with a faint silver light as the Force surged within him.

 

"Captain, get out. Now."

 

The movement was faster than the eye could see, as in one fluid movement Aryian had stood and moved to the two droids guarding the doors, lightsaber already slashing through the external (and unarmored) power cords of the darktrooper droid. Not a second later, his free hand was punching through the head of the protocol droid with the assistance of a light Force shield over his fist, and a vicious Force blast as it impacted, destroying its main processors. As the soldiers cleared the room, heading back for Fett, Aryian turned back, surveying the room.

 

Knowing Faust, it was a bomb. That much was clear due to the presence of the tibanna gas alone, but it also had to be one large enough to engulf and detonate the canisters with the initial explosion in order to set off the secondary explosion. All this flashed through his mind; it was mere common sense. He'd dealt with bombs and using the Force to locate them before, but that was back when he was in the Jedi Special Operations Division and a Sith terrorist had hidden bombs across Coruscant. And...he'd died then. It wasn't an easy thing to do. There had also been much more time then, and now Aryian knew he'd probably have less than a minute, maybe two if he was lucky. He could get out, but the soldiers...would likely still be at the edge of the secondary explosion zone, and would die from the raw concussion. Tibanna was known for it's instability, not necessarily its explosive potential...

 

The variables were too many for him to simply stand and try to determine a course of action, so instead he chose the one that made the most sense: get the f*** out, and now. He pivoted, legs recoiling with the Force's aid, and in no time at all he'd caught the group of running soldiers. As he felt the first explosion, the Force once again swelled as Aryian pulled them together to the floor as they ran, and leapt on top of the pile as he summoned one of the strongest barriers he could muster. If fate held true, when the dust settled, he might live through this.

 

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

 

Saladin knew that when the fleet jumped from hyperspace and began taking an aggressive posture that things planetside had just gone sideways. Its orders were clear, however, the pilot was his designated asset to protect, not the Master. Thrusters fired, putting the mech into enough momentum to send it slamming down to Kuat's surface in less than a minute. It landed right outside the hangar where Khalthis's ship was docked, sensors and weapons bristling. The processing speed of the Wolf Spider's AI was on a reactionary level about two quintillion times that of an average human, and immediately identified the tech applying 'tape' to the outer hull as a threat. Sensor readouts clearly identified the isotope utilized in the blast tape as baradium. With a single shot from a railgun, the surprised tech was little more than red mist, the round leaving a crater under Khal's ship.

 

On a loudspeaker setting, the flat mechanical voice of Saladin resounded as a blast was heard in the distance. "KHALTHIS TORG. PLEASE EXIT YOUR SHIP AND BOARD IMMEDIATELY. YOU ARE IN DANGER."

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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A tall thin officer bearing the look of a Sith facilitator from Kesh approached Kern's command chair. Kern had been focused on the ongoing siege below, but the approach of the officer broke him from his near trance.

 

"If this isn't important, you've picked an excellent way to shorten your miserable life. What is it?"

 

"Baron Kern... the following message was received on a Sith Comm line, it was addressed apparently to Lord Faust, but-"

 

"The hunter is preoccupied at the moment, and you dare not interrupt him. Hand it to me." Kern said, the encryption was a secure one and activating the message was not a simple task. He tried an encryption that Furion had shared with him, but that yielded only a partial result. Still the message came with coordinates.

 

"It's a sith message, but we've been unable to determine from who.

 

He attempted to listen to it's contents. Nothing, just a mixture of words and characters.

 

"Computer, reassemble the message into the most probable configuration based upon any and all Sith encryption techniques."

 

To it I am concerns Those , impressed. upon the force that has garnered Your work has left a markmy attention, and far surpassed that of my former ....master in it's own way. He was good but it seems clear now lacked a certain...finesse in fields I thought impossible. You have caught my eye so to speak. If it is acceptable I wish to arrange a meeting as soon as you are able within any co-ordinate you proposalfor your consideration hereby specify...I have a but would rather talk face to face. If you would hear me out.

 

too many ears and eyes watching There are. Withthat further chaos said I must end thismy dark transmission, good luck brothers with bringing to the galaxy.

 

The words made more sense, but still it was obscure enough to garner suspicion.

 

M'ruka returned to his side as her task was complete. She was still arrayed in the mixture of Sith armor and barbaric touches from her home world. She bowed slightly and spoke.

 

"The transport is ready, all troops as well. Your orders?"

 

"Hmm..." Kern considered the transmission again, as well as the coordinates. It could have been a trap, something to lure out Faust, or his acolytes. Still they needed soldiers in this war, ones who wielded the force. If it was a trap, his master would need to be insulated.

 

"I have another task for you."

 

"Speak it Baron Kern, and it will be done." M'ruka said her face speaking of commitment and purpose.

 

"A servant of the darkside may be on Coruscant, a person of some worth to my master. Retrieve him, but only after he identifies himself. The coordinates are in this message. Take a few of the Keshiri-Sith Assassins with you. Bring him to me, but tell him nothing of our plans. If he turns out to be a spy, or you have any impression that he is deceiving you, kill him."

 

"As you command." M'ruka bowed, and quickly left the bridge.

 

"Do you trust her, Baron Kern?"

 

"No, but then again, I don't trust anyone." Kern said as he turned his attention back to the ship yards.

 

---

 

"Status, any movement at all?" Kern asked a junior officer next to the command center.

 

"An alert came to the sensors, a small mech moved to the surface within moments of their arrival. Other then that, there had been no response."

 

Kern looked at the display. He stretched out with his senses, using the darkside to see the unusual contours in the face of the force itself. He reached out, his recently enriched force senses scanning everything. He became aware of someone, or something who was panicked, or at least concerned. It felt like a Jedi, or someone highly trained. He tried to focus on a face, a form, a name. He became aware that whoever he was reaching out to would sense him as well. He pulled back, out of the trance and back to reality. He placed his right hand forcefully on his masked face.

 

"There." Kern said looking up and suddenly pointing to a small blip on the tactical display.

 

A Jedi? You're sure.

 

"No, but the force tells me something is there. A disturbance, a ripple that doesn't belong. Could be a very powerful force user." Kern announced, and turned from the screen to consider what he had felt.

 

"Makes no difference, if all is to plan in moments that whole area will be obliterated." said the intelligence officer, his cruel smile reflected in the screen.

 

"Keep an eye on that sector. Could be nothing, could be something, but when Jedi are involved I suspect everything. If anything moves contact me. Faust's plans must succeed, or I will kill everyone responsible for it's failure myself."

 

"But surely-"

 

"Take nothing to chance. I know the Jedi, they are weak, but they are resourceful. Keep a close fighter response to anything trying to leave."

 

Kern marched off, back to the small command chair. Sitting, he awaited the signal that he knew would come.

 

---

 

A small unmarked shuttle disembarked the Agamemnon, and exited to hyperspace, it's destination a series of jumps to throw of any pursuit in flight to Coruscant.

 

(POST EDITED per Mod's Ruling)

Edited by Guest

"Some things... are worse then death, being forgotten for example..."

Member Since '05 - The Old Ones | Character Sheet

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Woh now. Okay, hold on. TIME OUT.

 

First thing's first; Since Charles and Ian are both involved here, it falls to me to play referee. Good thing I decided to not jump into this storyline!

 

Fynn - Im sorry, but your fleet is illegal. Having a Turbulent, two Interdictors and two escort frigates is, by my understanding, more than a faction even can have. And sorry to say, you and Faust do not qualify as a faction. With that said, straight up taking all your ships away and leaving you floating in space by yourself would be cruel and unusual punishment, so you get ONE ship. Cant even be a frigate; has to be smaller than a Corvette. I'll let you decide what you want, but I reserve the right to nix that too.

 

Faust - Even the Mastermind behind the story is cutting it close. Ill grant you the fact that this is THE Kuat Drive Yards, so there are going to be big ships here under construction. I have no issues with your background story for the Megiddo, the Ragnarok, and the Apocalypse but I think its clear you plan to use those three ships for decididly 'unscientific' means in the future. Given that I dont know how big these ships exactly are, but you claimed them to be large enough to warrant the command area to be truly called a bridge, Im going to assume they're on par with at least a frigate, which brings you into the same problems Fynn has. They cant be used as tactical elements moving forward.

 

In case you two are unclear, gone are the days of massive fleets with little oversight; we have fleet rules (Found HERE)that clearly limit the size, and use of fleets like this. Im jumping in now so that any mess with killshots and fleet engagements can be avoided. Last thing I will add on the fleet side is that any fleet action taken by these ships, will warrant a response from the Galactic Alliance Fleet. Which, is basically described as follows:

they have a very strong fleet, and it would be suicide to attempt to confront them directly.

 

So keep that in mind. Also, youre limited on your use of NPCs in tactical use too for the same reasons (Not a faction).

 

Robbie, I know you've been very sporting with the whole storyline thus far, so you do have some leeway. Just dont go too over the top.

 

Ok. TIME IN!!

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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((Should have caught that- but can definitely roll with it))

 

Embedded within the cyber uplink, Faust gave a growl of frustration as the Mando and his little droid too escaped his grasp, reaching out and finding a bubble of a ysalmari. A small part of him wondered how a machine bound cripple like Vader was so casually able to execute so many force chokes through long distance comms as reports had said, yet the Hunter had only been able to work it successfully a scant handful of times.

 

Faust contemplated using the same feeds to spy out Darkfire and witness the Jedi's last moments, but the same feeds that provided an eye into the KDY shipyards presented a vulnerability as well. Disengaging, he trusted his crew on the ground to deliver the killing blow, one that followed a predictable, clockwork malice as the Tibaana ignited, sending a roaring fireball at Aryian, the Captain, and the CoreSec soldiers.

 

As he disengaged from the KDY's systems, he felt the system's "pulse" as the sector exploded. The conference room was incinerated, klaxons and alerts going off all around the shipyards, and the very corridor outside in which the troupe fled was filled with an all consuming flame, ready to wash over the Jedi within the space of a breath...

 

He believed that with everything going on, there was enough to provide a distraction for the Hunter's two main goals to succeed. Standing up once more, Faust opens channels to Druger, and all of his loyal soldiers. Eyes blazing with a cold fire as he speaks, Faust gave a short command, the implications dire.

 

"We attack."

 

Exiting the cargo ship, now docked to the KDY proper, Faust, surrounded by his Vader-like escorts, makes a beeline for the Megiddo, hoping to slip aboard in the confusion. Murmuring a command to his guards, he does not waste any strides in making his way through the KDY as all hell breaks loose. The sounds of battle as loyal guardsmen of the Kuat and the Galactic Alliance clashed from a the sudden attack could be heard from all around. At this point it was all about a tactical withdrawal with the assets he invested in, nothing more, though the more fear, the more life loss, so much better in the end. Though the chaos he created, Faust know the Megiddo would be his best bet.

 

Ages ago, the Dark Lord of the Sith Naga Sadow once had a ship known as the Corsair. While technology in general advanced since that faraway day and age, the early Dark Jedi, the early Sith still had secrets. That ship, just as Faust's, besides being a threat in their own right, also had a special metallurgical design, perfected in the labs on Onderon, and encompassed into the ship's design. While Sadow infamously causes a sun to go nova, wiping out countless lives, Faust's modifications would allow the ship to channel the powers of his life sucking ritual down onto the surface of a planet as he skimmed overhead, creating waves of death, feeding the Hunter the souls and strength of the fallen. The mediation chambers within the ships were only second to the one he prepared at "Ground Zero" once everything was assembled. If anyone got in his way before then, like if that idiot Mando managed to locate him, or if the Grey Jedi wasn't a crispy critter by now, Faust would take them, destroying body, mind, and soul and be on his merry way to do the same to the shipyards orbiting Kuat, then the planet itself...

 

*****

 

The "maintenance" worker who assailed the ship with Khal instead hoped it would not come to this, facing down the Saladin wolf-spider droid, he did not hesitate either. Reaching into the same tool box of mischief where he pulled the baradium tape, he pulled out a PLX-1 Portable Missile Launcher and raised it to the Saladin. WIth a steady finger, he pulled the trigger, unleashing a single rocket aimed at the droid ship just as its railguns activated, turning him not so much into a red mist, but a fine, lead laden paste.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Reports started to flood in over CoreSec channels of hostilities beginning from a cargo ship docked with the drive yards. It was sooner and more overt than Moon Knight had anticipated -- he highly doubted that Faust had a force capable of taking the gigantic corporation by force, and the longer the attack continued the more forces would be brought to bear on his agents. This strongly suggested an alternative objective, but the Mando'ad had been provided with no context for this assault other than Faust's broadcasted general foundation for his campaign of terror.

 

He had little choice but to head straight for the conflict and attempt to decipher its purpose through their movements. He started to move down the hallway, assault rifle gripped firmly at the ready. It was a good thing, too -- there were two armed figures he spotted through his penetrating radar display trying to keep out of his sight on the far side of a doorway. No doubt Faust had used them to track his location, and now that he had eluded the initial assassination attempt the dar'jetii had made, the agents would try to get the drop on him.

 

They would not. Moon Knight fired a concussion grenade from his gauntlet which struck the ground between the two operatives and detonated on impact. Their bodies crumpled and he didn't even break stride, moving as quickly as he could in his full beskar'gam while keeping alert for further ambushes, following CoreSec comm chatter back to its source and the firefight that had already begun.

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Faust continues to make his way through the increasing chaos in the Kuat Drive Yards. Though his eyes are focused on the twisting and increasingly scorched and bloodstained hallways before him, his Force presence and cybernetic presence start to manifest further, using a low-key form of Battle Meditation to coordinate efforts to clear his path. He felt the Bhelliom in action at is lead what amounted to a strafing run on some of the KDY's defenses, using the ship once more as a decoy to draw attention away from him as he approached the Megiddo. From his cyberlink a short order goes out to his handpicked Commander.

 

Have the other ships disengage at once. Rendezvous with the other forces. I'll be boarding within the next two minutes.

 

His attention is broken feeling a terrible lashing of fiery pain in the force, as if coming from a familiar presence. It was too hard to tell amid the other chaos and death surrounding him in the Force if it was one of extreme pain or mortal passing.

 

Aryian... you can burn in Hell... for I do sense you are burning...

 

With a more confident stride in his step, his Vader-like guards tightening their guard around their Master.

 

"Sir," one of them states, his voicebox cybernetically altered like Faust's, but altered solely so it resonated in a deep, chilling voice that some in the Empire and many in the then Rebellion had nightmares about, "We've received reports that the tail assigned to the Mando was wiped out. The fate of the Captain, the CoreSec agents, and the Jedi are unknown. That whole sector is in flames, but the Mando is on the loose."

 

Faust pauses. He remembered dueling the Mando once, and how that resulted in a nearly successful suicide attack. His eyes close, tightening the battle mediation, his orders marked with a simple word: withdraw. He tried finding an absence in the Force, knowing the trick the Mando pulled to level a playing field Faust so deliberately tried to unbalance, but found it hard to pinpoint.

 

"If the Mando wants to fight, he is welcome to. He has his own little slug to push back my powers, but under all, he's still mortal. Besides, we are almost at the Megiddo. Have the meditation chamber prepared and ready for my arrival, and the alchemic engines powered to full... We are going to turn this shipyards and the world it surrounds into a lifeless ball of rock."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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((Robbie, guys, I have no excuse for this horsecrap. I'm sorry, and I expect better from myself, as should you all. To be frank, I should have simply gotten three dayed. I'm not going to post a reaction for the Mech until Khal comes back or this mess is done with. As for Aryian, I think a punishment is in order. So temporarily, I'm bringing another factor into the mix. I won't be fighting at full strength if and when something happens, and I'll have lasting consequences to deal with. Apologies to all, and hopefully I won't do this again.))

 

 

A thought occurred to Aryian as the explosion and fireball passed over them. That although the shield would protect them from the concussion, it wouldn't stop the heat transfer of the ambient air, and would roast them alive. This thought occurred right as his robes caught fire from the nearly 2,000 plus degrees of heat roaring over him, easily cooking the skin on his back before he even had a chance to begin to react.

 

Instinct kicked in, and for a moment, Aryian was no longer in control of his own body. Muscle memory and the will of the Force took its place, but to any sensitive enough in the Force, they would feel the pain and turmoil surrounding him. When Aryian opened his eyes again, he was no longer on Kuat, rather buried deep inside his own mind.

 

"You're weak."

 

The Grey Master's eyes narrowed, recognizing the voice. "Am I?" he challenged back at the nothingness. He knew he was not weak, but it made little difference.

 

"Yes. And out of practice. You treat the Force like a plaything rather than the tool and weapon it was meant for. You blunder into obvious traps, hoping to, what, martyr yourself? Fool. You don't deserve our body."

 

Aryian struggled as invisible binds wrapped around his consciousness, dragging him down, further, deeper into the subconsciousness of sleep. The thing that opened its eyes after that moment had passed, was not Aryian Darkfire. Reddish hued fire cracled behind the silver eyes now, the Dark side exuding from every pore on the still-burning body. But pain was fuel. Pain led to anger, which led to rage...rage that would empower him to rise from the ashes and strike down all before him. As the heat was absorbed as energy into the body, so was the technique turned on the soldiers in the pile beneath him. The very men he had strived to protect were now simply tools, batteries to draw upon to heal his wounds and at the least, continue on. The scarring would be nasty, but it wasn't as if he minded, it was simply a device to strike fear into the thoughts of others, and a reminder that pain was a necessity of life.

 

As the fires died down, Darth Ares stepped up from the bodies of the men, specifically using Captain Miller's lifeless face purposefully as a foothold as he strode down, gripping steaming lightsaber hilts in each hand. His robes were tattered, his face and body covered in charred skin that was only partially healed, still painful with every movement.Deliberately, he removed the upper parts of the robe, displaying his bare torso. It was time to take revenge.

Faust...oh Hunter...I am coming for you...

 

Ares picked up a light jog, grinning at the pain rippling across his body. It wouldn't be long now before he was able to engage Faust directly, they weren't far away at all. A few minutes at most. And after Faust...the galaxy.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Even as Moon Knight appeared on the scene of the skirmishes that were ongoing between loyal Kuati CoreSec and Faust's agents, the latter started to withdraw. He wasn't certain if his presence was shifting the equation enough for them to ba'slan shev'la, if Faust had given them orders not to engage him, or if they were pulling back toward some other objective and this was not a specific reaction to his arrival at all. But the Mando'ad took advantage of the situation to pull rank and gather the defenders as he moved from firefight to firefight, confident that they were getting closer to Faust's objective while rallying strength.

 

He still had no inkling as to what the actual objective was, but he wasn't in it alone.

 

"Captain Fett!" He was getting a comm through his buy'ce. "This is Lieutenant Lars, reporting from the command center. We're analyzing the attack and we think the invaders are attempting to steal a capital ship out of dry dock. Sending you coordinates."

 

ShadowFett remembered Lars from the last time he was here. She seemed a fine officer who worked closely with Captain Miller in the security command center. "Copy that, Lars. Have Captain Miller rendezvous with me there."

 

She paused a moment. "Miller's status is unknown... He was awfully close to that detonation, sir."

 

"Copy," Fett responded. "En route to the coordinates." The new question was... what did Faust want with a capital ship? It seemed the best he could do with it was hide somewhere or make hit-and-fade attacks against non-GA defended worlds. It didn't matter. He had a destination, and the Mando'ad would do his utmost to stop whatever plot was unfolding there.

 

Now that he had a decently sized force, he could use some tactics to try and keep Faust's agents off balance. He split the team into two groups, quickly instructing the larger one to keep along their current direct path and make the attackers think this was the organized response. Meanwhile, he took a smaller group with some more experienced officers off down an alternate path, moving as quickly as they could. The plan was to dodge most of the heavy fighting and cut the demagol Faust off as he reached his prize.

 

Of course, Faust was no fool, and so even as some of his men were drawn off to face the larger force, other still remained, and soon Fett was once again cutting into their ranks with a barrage of blaster fire and the occasional grenade, his many years of experience fighting targets even more challenging than these allowing him to maintain forward momentum and keep his group from getting pinned down. Indeed, it seemed that an confrontation with Faust himself was nearly inevitable as long as Lars had not misread his movements.

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The fighting thickened as Faust approached his destination, his white coat and armor splattered red, his lightsaber and Sith Sword turning into fans of death. Faust slowly withdrew his almost subconscious battle mediation, finding the need to focus his all. Two premonitions hovered on the edge of his consciousness. One, to his surprise, was the beginnings, the faintest stirrings of a Dark Side void, familiar sense of life energy being syphoned to sustain its user. Faust realized that his own unchecked tear in the Force would draw Aryian to him. Faust’s own hunger, kept in check by bloodlust, started up again, an icy yearning rising from his stomach through his limbs. That void approached quickly, fueled by a dark fury almost matching Faust’s own.

 

The second was a shift in the battle before he disengaged. The order to retreat and make their escape sounded, but it was a matter of cover at this point. The majority of the ex-Imperials Faust dredged up were already aboard the ships, even before the need to attack the shipyards, but preventing a boarding by the Alliance was now key. The loss of one, or even all ships would not be a total failure to his plans, but they would deny him critical cover, and power, when he needed them most. He felt strangely blind as he tried to reach through the folds of time, that blindspot almost at his very foot.

 

He knew at once what that meant. His voice came out in a low, monstrous hiss that reverberated.

 

”Fett! He’s here! Kill him! Kill him DEAD!”

 

He sensed Darkfire’s approach and knew he had to clear the field while it was just Fett. Faust did not hesitate after giving the order, his men rushing to fulfill that command. His elite Royal guards as he called them, dressed in their white Vader armor, melted aside behind their master. Though their potential in the Force was untapped, they sensed what was about to happen. Faust leveled his Sith Sword, blazing with a blue, then black energy that did not much as give light, but drain it as it crackled.

 

Like Force lightning, the Dark Side tendrils shot down the corridor. Faust’s own men, the Kuati defenders, the Mandalorian’s men, and other hapless beings caught as the tendrils impaled them died in a heartbeat, shrieking in absolute pain. The tendrils, ever hungry, enveloped the area around Fett, as if trying to puncture the ysalmari’s protective shields before retreating back to their master. Save for those within the radius around Fett’s yslamari field, or those huddled up against the walls, the path was littered with the dead, clearing a way for the two foes.

Faust’s remaining soldiers and his guards huddled at the sides of the corridor, the terror evident on their faces, overcoming for a moment their fanatical loyalty. The guards behind their master pressed on, clearing the way for the Hunter to reach the Megiddo.

 

The Hunter’s eyes, still a solid blue, glowed intently, darkening to a black for a moment as he absorbed the souls and life energy of the fallen. They went back to solid, icy glowing blue once more, but even though the features of the eyes were no longer discernible, there was a maddened pulse in their glowing.

 

His ancient sword still crackled with Dark energy, his lightsaber vanishing up his sleeve, replaced by a familiar disruptor pistol. It was a familiar stance, one that was all too often, the last sight of many- Faust, sword and gun in hand, his bloody coat flapping behind him, but it was wrong, off. A darkening wave seemed to ooze from the Hunter, lights dimming, and it was from that malign energy his coat swayed, not the wind.

 

”Fett! You cannot stop me now! I am far, far stronger than when we last fought. I will puncture your petty slug-bubble and claim your soul!”

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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"You will try, Hunter..."

 

Whispers from the corpses that littered the hallway echoed about, soft but with a resonating strength behind them. The Force was turbulent, it was as if Faust felt like he was on the onset of a massive hurricane as the Grey Master, now steeped in darkness, closed in on his position.

 

"How does it feel...the Hunter...now the hunted?"

 

One of the corpses to Faust's left jerked as invisible fingers guided it, pointing its weapon and firing. The shot went wide, but the intent was clear. For a moment, the face wore a crazed grin on its face, eyes still rolled back into the head. Again came the whispers as the corpses spoke quietly in near unison.

 

"You've unleashed the Beast, and I am not so nearly forgiving as my senile counterpart. And now, a present? You've left several toys for me..."

 

Several more shots simultaneously, two of which were meant to hone in closer on him, one aiming to skim the right leg, the other his left shoulder.

 

"Allow me to introduce myself...You've tormented us for so long, but you're not familiar with me...I am the beast from the pit, the ghost that kills in the night. You can call me...Ares. It's the last name you'll hear before I put you down. Time..."

 

Every single corpse moved now, slowly, as the Force began surging to incredibly high levels, even for a Master. Every last weapon in the room was slowly moving to aim at Faust, box him in, cut him down. Ares relished in the slight fear that must be passing through Faust's mind...This was something that wasn't exactly impossible, but several magnitudes above what any normal Force user should have been capable of.

 

In unison, the corpses pulled their triggers.

 

 

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

 

In an adjacent hallway, Ares was once again on fire, though instead of it burning him, he was absorbing the controlled self-immolation with practiced ease. Being rejoined with Aryian had its advantages, one in particular being the knowledge of his Force nova, an ability that caused a feedback loop of Force in an individual to essentially allow for an endless well of power to pull from. Ares knew the drawbacks, but didn't care. The old man would be left crippled, not he, and he wasn't about to let Faust slip through his fingers. Finally, he felt the last bit of Aryian's Force reserves melt away, and grinned.

 

Two birds, one stone.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Finally Moon Knight came face to face with his lenedat, and he realized just how long it had been. The last time they had fought, Fett had made several crucial mistakes. He had gone in to fight Faust on terms he had not chosen, in a hostile environment, supposedly backed up by allies who had not come to his aid. He had not carried an ysalamir or the other specialized equipment he bore now, and had been unprepared in other ways as well. His defeat there had sponsored a shift in the way he fought and trained... and now Faust was here, on CoreSec turf.

 

While Faust was speaking, ShadowFett commed in over a private channel back to Jan Lars in the control center. He would need to bring all his resources to bear to make sure this fight did not end in another defeat. "LT, I have engaged Vladimir Faust," he reported. The conversation would not be audible outside his buy'ce. "Work with my droid if you want to help."

 

2277, safe aboard Fett's ship but linked up to the Mando'ad's helmet computer so that he could monitor comm traffic and even a live feed of his visor data so that he could provide insight, immediately picked up on his cue and introduced himself to Lars.

 

Meanwhile, Fett could focus fully on the task at hand... which changed somewhat when the corpses started firing their blasters. Mand'alor spun around a corner to try and get cover from them and Faust, flashing back to the Death Star battle and the hallucinations that had plagued his mind during his battle against a powerful AI. Through the powers of Moon Knight he knew quite a bit about the Force, but when something sufficiently bizarre happened, he still found that he could not distinguish between Force manipulation and hallucination.

 

The answer was hinted at somewhat when he spun close to one of the animated corpses and it again became limp within the bubble of his ysalamir. This technique seemed somewhat unlike Darkfire, but given that the corpses were shooting at Faust, he didn't rule the jetii out as the source.

 

So he dropped to a knee and drew his verpine shattergun, adding to the blasterfire four projectiles. He kept the shattergun preloaded with rounds optimized for taking out lightsaber-wielding foes; the first two were cortosis-coated for shutting down a jetii'kad but were also perfectly decent at piercing through flesh like a traditional bullet, and the latter two had a substance called thermal well at their core which would create a explosive blast nearly as strong as baradium when they hit.

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Faust's eyes blazed with madness and bloodlust as he took a threatening step towards the Mando warrior. He halted as one shot, then two graze past him. Faust did not move forward, but cautiously raised his Sith sword and disruptor in a defensive posture. He felt the wave of emotions and the energies behind the attack and knew they were close, also quietly observing the corpses fall motionless within ShadowFett's anti-Force field. His eyes closed, trusting his prescient abilities to anticipate the attack. He would have tenths of a second between when he could anticipate the Mandalorian's actions from the edge of the ysalmari shield and any potentially fatal attack.

 

"Darth Ares is it? How the mighty have fallen, Darkfire! I feel your hatred! Have you found what I did to your wife?!"

 

Faust's defense was simple. He raised his Sith Sword and gauntlet to his face, covering the exposed part of his body and twisted. The reflective Sith steel and cortosis weave in the sword and armor were proof against both lightsabers and blaster fire. The oncoming salvo of shots caused dark red spots of head to appear on his armor and singed the edges of his coat and hair, but the rest reflected, going straight back to the Mandalorian.

 

While proof against lightsabers and blasters, projectile weapons and explosives were a still a potentially deadly threat. Faust twist , barely allowed him to avoid the cortosis slugs, feeling heat as they sparked off his armor, giving the scent of molten metal and left shallow scratches across the surface. The disruptor pistol was his last line of defense. The amount of precision required was incredible and allowed for no margin for error even with Force aided presense. He leveled his custom made pistol and fired right into the path of the last two slugs.

 

The shots connected in mid-air at the midway point, the disruptor blast's energy output dematerializing the casings and matter around the thermal well- and fed that energy, to Faust's surprise, and surely the Mandalorian's as well, feeding the thermonuclear reaction at the heart of the well. Faust's final action was a hard Force as he stumbled back at top speed, trying to use the Force to push the radius of the explosion back towards the Mandalorian.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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((I had made up my mind to wait for Aryian, but I'm reneging.))

 

ShadowFett had learned not to let the impressive feats of dar'jetiise put him off guard. It wasted a lot of time in combat to stand around being surprised by the feats those privileged with Force sensitivity could pull off. And by now, he had seen many such feats. Faust's ability to snipe his incoming shells with his disruptor pistol was superhuman, and he had not anticipated it or how the disruptor bolt interacted with the primed thermal well. Combined with the incoming deflected blaster fire, Faust had sent an impressive array of firepower toward him.

 

The corner he had taken partial cover behind would not protect him from the thermal well reaction. The Mando'ad triggered his repulsor pack and propelled himself backwards away from the explosion, picking an angle that would also let him avoid the majority of the incoming blaster fire. Unfortunately, the spread of energy bolts was wide enough that two of them impacted with his beskar'gam, skewing his flight and causing the armor around the hits to glow cherry red.

 

Fett's flight became a tumble as he reached the ground, and he knew for the moment he didn't have cover from Faust's potential continued disruptor fire. Thinking quickly and coming up on one knee, the former beroya drew his sonic pistol with his left hand and started triggering a series of attacks. The Force required concentration to use, even for experienced combatants like Faust. He fired a luma dart at the ground, which would create a blinding flash; he fired his sonic pistol several times at Faust, which would ignore most conventional forms of armor and seriously jack up concentration even if the shots weren't quite lethal on their own; he filled in his volume of fire with his wrist laser; and finally, he sent his backpack-mounted mini concussion missile downrange. There was always a risk there against a dar'jetii, but he suspected even Faust would not be able to deflect the missile with everything else that was going on.

 

Meanwhile, Mand'alor received a signal that 2277 and Lars had come up with a plan and the pieces were falling into place rapidly....

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Laughter rang through the Hunter's ears.

Fallen? I fell long ago. Long before you were born. I am Darkfire...and yet I am not. And better that it was you who tortured her than myself, for my rage is eternal. I would have gladly torn her asunder, if only to make him suffer.i

 

Tendrils of telekinetic Force energy lashed about, invisible to all but Faust, smashing the hallway and its contents in a blind rage, trying to grasp at the Hunter or throw things into his path, to slow him down, to stop his retreat.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Faust continued his hasty but backwards retreat, away from the radius of the thermal well. His experience with thermal detonators made him all too familiar with the destructive capabilities of such charges laced with baradium. Anticipating attacks by Force users, Faust chose not to arm himself with the devices, having remotely activated deadmen's switches himself in the past. He knew they were a foolish chance to take now, but for the moment regretted not having them on his person. He holstered his disruptor pistol, ready to draw another weapon.

 

As tendrils of Force energy wrapped around him and threw objects in the path, the Hunter stumbled. The attack was powerful, but unfocused, wild. Faust grinned, knowing that wild energy burst was no more than the tantrum of an angry child, and one that once more provided him more opportunities than danger.

 

Physically snatching a corpse out of the air as it was hurled at him, he raised it in his left hand, his mechanical one, and used the lifeless body as a human shield. It stood between the Hunter's eyes and the luma dart, keeping him from being completely blinded. Against the unseen sonics the corpse did nothing for protection and Faust took a direct hit. The rest of the armored body was torn to pieces by the laser and missile fire, exploding into heated chunks of gore, spraying the hallway read and giving off the stench of burned meat. Faust used sonics in his custom lightsabers and took pains to shield himself from the spread of his own weapons, mitigating the worst of the impact. Faust whipped his head to shake away the blood dripping from his nose and eyes- his own blood as a courtesy of Fett's sonics, and clenched his grip around the now flaming, missile-blasted corpse, feeling his hand seize up. The cybernetics that passed for nerves within it were telling him his hand would pass for being on fire with third degree burns if not for cybernetic the make of it and armoring around it. He let the corpse go and drew one if his blue lightsabers, advancing towards Fett.

 

By this time, the remaining servants of the Hunter retreated fully, clearing the way to the Megiddo. The other two ships had cleared the docks and were slowly making their path away from the shipyards, ready to make the jump into hyperspace, raining fire on the defensive cannons and ships to better avoid being damaged.

 

That corpse still served its purpose, and it provided Faust what he needed most: a moment to concentrate. Still maintaining that psychic connection with his attacker, he sent the message back within a split second, along with a gift of his power to educate the fool.

 

You're nothing but a child playing with fire, boy!

 

Fire was not what Faust had in mind, even as he felt the smoldering hatred of his foe. He felt out the location of Darkfire through their connection in the Force and knew his attacker was close, boiling with rage. He knew Fett retreated around a corner to evade the unexpected blast and knew where the absence in the Force was from that ysalmari. Fett was determined in his icy, stern fashion to bring the Hunter down. He would make a union of ice and fire in a glorious song of body on bodily harm.

 

Drawing on the Dark Side, and fueled by the power of the souls he absorbed, he attacked Darkfire in what would be a powerful one-two punch of Force powers: A telekinetic blow to lift him off his feet and slam him straight past the corner of his adjacent hallway straight into a wall, then a second even stronger blow with enough physical momentum to carry the fallen Jedi past the ysalmari's shield and slam the idiot bodily into Fett.

 

Once the two were tangled, and Darkfire's powers nulled within the Mandalorian's ysalmari sphere, between the Hunter's sword and lightsaber, there would be a great bloodletting as he finished two more of his most persistent foes.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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The battle continued to develop and Faust did not waver, even though ShadowFett knew that some of his attacks had found purchase. Though he hid it well, the dar'jetii was weakening, and the final parts of Fett's and Lars' and 2277's plan were falling into place. His retreat had brought him close to a closed bulkhead door, and not unintentionally so. Faust finally drew jetii'kade and started to advance, and suddenly Darkfire came sailing around the corner and collided with Fett, again sending him offbalance. The Mando'ad had set his feet, though, and he was strong and much heavier in his beskar'gam than Darkfire, so he managed to avoid falling for the moment.

 

As Faust approached, Fett scrambled back a few more steps toward the bulkhead door, using his offhand to unseal the ysalamir case still magnetized to his repulsor pack. Dropping into a low crouch for leverage, Fett exclaimed "Now!" into his comm and spun, hurling the ysalamir case toward the approaching Sith Master. Just as planned and relayed to him by his beskar'ad, the bulkhead door slammed open to reveal a unit of CoreSec security guards, guns blazing even as Faust was cut off from the Force and his ability to defend himself against the barrage. Fett added in a few more shots from his sonic pistol, hoping the surprise of the waiting troops and the unorthodox use of the ysalamir as an offensive weapon would be enough to finally bring an end to Vladamir Faust.

 

Otherwise... well, Fett had just tossed away his only defense against his opponent's Force powers. He was all in.

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As Faust struck out at him, Ares winced. Physically, he was in no shape to be taking any kind of strikes. Mentally, however, his mind swam in rage. It was blinding, to be sure, but it also guided him, using him as a conduit to express itself upon the physical world. As he was thrown against Fett, it felt cold for a long while, as if Ares was plunged into ice water. For a brief moment, he struggled, and Aryian almost retook control. A great weakness came over him as he was cut off from the Force, the fiery glow surrounding him flickered and waned for a moment as his technique was choked out by that infuriating ysalamir bubble. But then, Fett had thrown it away, and Ares was free once more.

 

Fire surrounded his body, burning brighter and hotter than before, the raw power of the Force animating him and acting through him, its dark will paralleling his own. Electronics up and down the hallway sparked and frazzled out, except within the accursed bubble of the ysalamir, of course, showering down upon all present like a herald of the damned.

 

Rage may be the act of a child, Faust, but you cannot deny as a Sith that it is the most powerful thing in existence. Rage is what fuels me, makes me stronger...rage is what will strike you down today...

 

Of course, Faust would hear none of that while inside the ysalamir's bubble, assuming he still was. Ares didn't particularly care. The Force became as an immense tempest around all present, the very air manipulated into a violent wind through the hallway, as the entire corridor was crushed around Faust through invisible hands, squeezing and destroying, trying ever so hard to trap the insufferable man that had turned Aryian's life into a living hell indirectly over many years. Ares should have thanked him, but it was the rage that drove him, and Aryian's rage that fueled his dark aspect.

 

It was then that Ares noticed Fett and the other soldiers, still firing at Faust. Fett was a longtime ally of Aryian, noted for his skill, and the soldiers backed him up. He was a threat that needed to be dealt with. On his hands and knees, on fire, Aryian looked up at them, screaming with all the unholy might of the Force, blasting them with the raw might of the Dark side. It was at that moment Ares was distracted enough for Aryian to mentally access the implant, trying desperately to contact Fett on the encrypted frequency they used to use.

 

<>

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Faust slowly approached the two entangled foes, hearing Darkfire as he crashed bodily into the wall, and then into Fett. The Hunter's laughter echoed down the corridor . There were other presences on the edge of his awareness, but they were of no moment. He nears the corner, purposely dragging his sword and lightsaber against the metal of the walls, sending out a steely scraping sound and sparks. His hand once more strayed down to his disruptor pistol silently, even as he scraped the walls, clenching it in the same hand as his sword. Even with his showmanship, Faust still appreciated an element of surprise in his attacks.

 

"Fett... I know you would insult me by calling me a demagol... and insult me you do... Demagol's 'crimes' as they are dubbed pale before what I have done until now and what I am about to do. He was but a babe, and yet Mandalorian Warriors curse in his name. Generations to come may yet rue my name, if I do not destroy your race root and stem."

 

Faust's maniacal laughter reaches its peak as he stepped around the corner to end Fett and Darkfire, He leveled his pistol at Fett, knowing with the ysalmari him to be the greater danger. Darkfire's appearance could only be described aptly as him looking like Hell.

 

"So long, Fett, Darkfire! May you be consumed by everlasting night!"

 

As Faust prepared to squeeze that trigger, he heard a cry of now, and his eyes gazed at the bulkhead as it started to open. His presence screamed danger, suddenly silenced as Fett threw a metal case at him... the ysalamir! The bulkhead's opening was slowed, straining by the field of energy Darkfire emitted on the electronics, once more giving Faust a window. The Hunter reacted, all but shooting from the hip- not at Fett, or Aryian, but the control panel for the bulkhead door. It opened, but halted in the middle, barely a meter across, bottlenecking his attackers. Where the control panel was, remained a hole a third of a meter in diameter in the wall.

 

Faust dropped into a crouch. He did not have the Force to aid his parries of the oncoming shots, but they weren't needed with the tight area from which the attacks were concentrated. He was not unwounded from the attacks, as there was more than blasterfire in the soldier's assault and more than he could dodge or parry. He almost grinned at the boldness of the move, his sword making a powerful upsweep to slice the protected ysalamiri case and its living cargo in twain. Once more he took the sonic shot dead on, and while he could have activated his own sonics to try and null it, there was not sufficient time.

 

Falling to one knee, Faust's eyes, for a moment normal with their whites and the coloring from the ysalamir bubble, turned back to a solid, glowing blue, then black even as they once more bled. The black was not a glow, but like two pits, void of light, as if staring into the essence of the Dark Side of the Force itself. That gaze drifted over Fett and Darkfire.

 

"Bold, Mandalorian, but you have failed."

 

Just as Fett's luma dart illuminated everything, Faust's attack drove a cloud of darkness, and in that same moment, obscured all light.

 

Faust's attack was the same as before when he cleared out the corridor to make way for battle. There were short, hard screams, abruptly cut off from the other side of the narrowly opened bulkhead door, leaving no guesses what happened to those brave soldiers. Faust rose to his feet, and while splattered with blood and gore from his meatshield before, he looked whole and hale once more.

 

"And now... it ends..."

 

Black tendrils extended from Faust in a torrent, aiming to take Darkfire and Fett whole... and with that a fate worse than death.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Things took another bad turn when Fett's all-in strategy backfired. Suddenly the ysalamir was neutralized and the reinforcements Lars had deployed were dead. ShadowFett was all but defenseless against Faust's Force powers, and what's more, it seemed that Darkfire was struggling to control himself. Moon Knight had powerful and troubling memories of how he -- or, rather, Vegeta Isolder -- had fallen to the dark side to defeat a powerful dar'jetii like Faust. He knew about the temptation of the power that it gave, and in such a pitched battle against such a dangerous opponent, he honestly could not know that he would not take the offer if it could guarantee victory.

 

But that was not who ShadowFett was. He was a verd, and he would survive without any such offers. He didn't look forward to dealing with Darkfire once this was over, assuming they both still lived, for he knew the price of embracing the dark side. Faust was walking evidence of the insanity and corruption that it represented. But he couldn't even think of Darkfire until Faust was handled.

 

Fett flicked on his penetrating radar, which would give him wireframe representations of targets and structures at close range through walls. He discarded the weapons he was currently holding and revealed that Faust was not the only one carrying a disruptor -- his was carried beneath his repulsor pack, a compact carbine-like rifle. The Mando'ad turned his back to Faust with only a few heartbeats before he would be overtaken by the dark wave of Force energy that he had little doubt would annihilate him, then pointed his weapon angled at the floor and pulled the trigger. A two-meter hole in the deck appeared and he leapt through it, twisting in the air and triggering his pack so he didn't kill himself landing a level below on his back, facing the hole. The dark wave washed past overhead, but Fett wasn't watching it.

 

Moon Knight shifted his disruptor a few degrees to point to the radar-painted wireframe that was Faust, still a deck above, and pulled the trigger again. And just for kicks, in case that wasn't enough, he launched his last concussion grenade for the floor where Faust would land should the mass murderer survive the disruptor bolt and the subsequent fall.

 

P for Plenty.

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A wave of pain washed over Ares as Faust's attack washed over him, draining him, sucking the life from him. But a low sound was heard, a chuckling, the first real sound the mutilated body had made since Ares had taken over.

 

"This? You dare to use this pathetic attack on me? You hoped to, what, tap into my life essence, drain me of the impossible power I had, use it for your own means? You know nothing, Hunter...and you will burn."

 

Fett had done something behind him, but Ares didn't care, he was now focused on one thing, and one thing only: the death of Faust. Fire raged around the already torn body as the Force nova kicked into high gear, once more igniting the air around the Grey Master's body in an unholy crimson red. It did nothing but feed them both, charging them to the point of bursting, the amount of raw Force energy crackling now in a very visible manner linking them. What flesh was left on Ares' body began to char, his face twisting to a evil black of burnt muscle and sinew as Hell's own fire began to eat at them both. If Faust didn't use the energy quick, it was sure to consume him, burning him from the inside out as he was filled with raw power and pure hatred.

 

But then, performing the seemingly impossible, Ares reversed Faust's technique, his own power amplified well beyond ten times what it should have been, using the dark energy tendrils to draw upon Faust's power, healing himself and stealing his life essence back.

 

You dare to think yourself as lofty as me, Hunter? I have known pain, and hatred, and anger my entire life...I was born of it...and I SHALL CONSUME YO-

 

It was then that the concussion grenade went off, a thing Ares hadn't even noticed in his blind rage focused purely at Faust. It threw him back down the corridor a good ways past Fett's now dead backup troops, instantly knocking him out, as it had detonated close enough to him to fully engulf his body in the shockwave. Aryian's body quickly stopped burning, its power source cut off, though parts of his robe were still smoldering, and the Grey Master fell into a deep coma. Were he to somehow awaken, however, he would immediately prove to be much more of a match for Faust than the Hunter could have ever dreamed of facing.

 

It was up to Fett to finish the fight.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Faust all but ignored Fett as he blasted himself to the deck below. The wave of blackness connected with Aryian Darkfire. The black pits that were the Hunter's eyes did not glow, nor widen, but somehow deepened, as if the infinite void somehow spread further.

 

"The end is here, Darkfire."

 

Faust felt a euphoria wash over him, draining the life energies of his as the Force nova met Faust's life drain. For a moment, the Hunter was completely filled, sated, and the energies kept coming.

 

Darkfire was wrong on a single point though- Faust was in no danger of being consumed, for the Hunter's channel to the Dark was complete in that instant, and the Dark Side of the Force was always hungry, always ready to consume. Even as Faust used it to feed, there was always a price, a Nihilus event-horizon he called it, for as much as he consumed by drawing on the Dark Side to take for his own ends, the Dark Side drew in even more as well.

 

That was a lesson Faust never, ever forgot. Even as a mere Force sensitive, as a ysalamiri-wielding bounty hunter he knew that truth. The Force was life itself, a peace, a unity that those fools called the Light SIde. Where in did the Darkness come? Pain, anger, suffering hatred, and endless stream from the same source: Where there was life, there was Death. Death and entropy were a natural and infinite progression that hungered, tearing down life and order- the essence of the Dark Side and its cause. He heard Darkfire claim to be born of all of those, to mouth the words, but Aryian understood nothing. Even as Aryian stole the life energies back to heal himself, Faust kept his own hatred cool and focused- not a towering, boiling rage, but the same chill contempt he always carried for weakness and fools, and he understood that no matter how much he or Aryian fed, the Dark Side was hungrier... or would be until Faust killed it himself. For now, he knew his hunger was greater than Aryian's, no matter the parlor tricks he played.

 

He was about to call out Aryian on the trick he played, treating what Faust did as reversing a mere flow, a trick of simply reclaiming stolen energies. Faust knew better. He was going to use that Force nova and open a wound in the Force that would consume everything around them, all but leveling and leaving lifeless this part of the shipyard. The energies built, and the blackness in his eyes deepened to where the blackness almost looked like it would spread.

 

And then the warning came with barely any time to react. Faust leapt backwards, not even knowing why, his prescient senses screaming. A disruptor bolt tore through the floor, passing millimeters from the Hunter's face as he leaned backwards, the Force aiding his jump. Faust watched the floor disintegrate under him, and saw Aryian fall, rocked by the forces of a concussion grenade. Faust landed with a crash on his knees and one hand, his lightsaber driven into the ground. He wanted to slay them, wanted to kill them....

 

And then realized if he had undertaken that nova born wound in the Force, the Megiddo and its crew may not have escaped the radius. Growling, and knowing the danger inherent in pursuing a foe such as Fett, even with more Kuat Drive Yard troops and possible CoreSec agents on the way, Faust retreated, running at top speed, through a connecting portal and into the Megiddo, letting it seal behind him and the last of one of his Vaderguards, disengaging away from the KDY.

 

His first act aboard was to comm his commander. Throughout the raid, Druger acted with competence, watching as the Ragnarok, and the Apocalypse retreated away, ready to make a jump, but holding down suppressive fire to give the Megiddo time to clear. Now Faust was aboard, and they could escape after one final test. The Bhelliom, which had been running interference through the fight, was also docked aboard.

 

"Commander Druger, do not let Fett or Darkfire come aboard! I do not care if you have to nuke part of the Yards or even part of the ship. I will be using the meditation chamber now to test what this ship can do. Take us away as if we were about to escape, but use the slingshot effect of the residual gravity to bring us into position. I want a clear shot at the world below, ingoring the shipyards."

 

He regained control of himself as he made his way to the meditation chamber, the cool hatred building in power and purpose. He had conducted Rituals on Dantooine and Kashyyyk to perfect the technique and feed. Now, Kuat would be next, and this time instead of thousands, it would be millions.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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ShadowFett glanced dispassionately at Darkfire's limp form. The jetii had proven to be all but worthless in this fight except as a distraction against Faust. Indeed, he had been worse -- an unknown, given over to his passions and a potential threat to Fett, placing the entire operation in jeopardy. He had expected better of Darkfire from the Augury days, and now he was lying about unconscious while Faust was making a ba'slan shev'la, a tactical withdrawal.

 

Mand'alor knew better than to think that Faust had given up on his objective here. Unfortunately, by the time he triggered his repulsor pack to pursue, Faust was making good time toward the Meggido and his agents were filling in to block Fett's pursuit. Even if he could fight through them all and get to the capital ship before it left, which was unlikely enough, he would then be in an entirely hostile environment with no backup. Even if he had bloodied Faust a bit, without his ysalamir he could not assume he could fight the dar'jetii again and defeat him, especially not on his terms.

 

Fett would have given his life to stop Faust's plans once and for all, but no one man could board that ship and expect to be victorious. The Mando'ad knew his limits better now than ever before; to pursue would mean certain death without achieving his goals.

 

"Osik," he swore under his breath. Best he could do was damage control.

 

Retrieving Darkfire and throwing him over his shoulder (damage control for KDY were he to awaken), ShadowFett retreated toward the hangar where his own ship was readied, using his repulsor pack wherever he could to aid his movements. There was still one ysalamir aboard, which could serve a dual purpose in the coming minutes, and he commed ahead to 2277 to fill the beskar'ad in on what he was thinking.

 

When he arrived, muscles burning due to the extra 200 lb weight he'd had to run all this way with, the ship was prepped. He clasped a pair of stun binders on Darkfire and headed to the cockpit, where 2277 had brought the remaining ysalamir. With Darkfire in the copilot's seat, both he and Fett would sit in the bubble. Finally Fett blasted out of KDY, headed in pursuit of the Meggido. He had no illusions of being able to tackle the small capital ship with just the Justice -- impressive as the MandalMotors Tra'kad was with its beskar plating -- but the least he could do was figure out where it was going next.

 

He might suffer setbacks, but ShadowFett would never relent. That part of him was still very much the bounty hunter he had been.

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((As Saladin))

 

The rocket the tech had fired ricocheted off the wolf spider's tough phrik armor, deflected at the proper angle to send it harmlessly out of the hangar to detonate in the atmosphere. After a few moments, however, Khal had no response, just stood there frozen in fear. Giving the equivalent of a mechanical sigh, it attempted to contact the nearest authority for new orders...that authority defaulting to Fett when Aryian failed to respond.

 

((You have full control of it for now))

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Faust reached the meditation chamber of the Megiddo. It was shaped not unlike Vader's aboard the Executor, but the alloys and composition were far, far different. Coupled with its own life support and cy-link systems, it backed itself up as a proverbial panic room and second bridge for Faust. The Ragnarok and Apocalypse had similar chambers, but the ships themselves were still far more unfinished than the Megiddo.

 

Settling into a throne like seat, the Hunter felt a flush of power run through him, feeling his abilities amplified. His breath quickened and he let his awareness branch out in a final, light touch of battle meditation to reach his troops to coordinate this final strike and then the retreat. His meditation sunk him into a trance as he drew on the energies needed. Around the meditation chamber, the ambient temperature dropped several degrees. As he felt the power build in him, a single comm made its way through to Faust's consciousness.

 

Lord Faust- there is a Mandalorian Vessel pursuing us. It's the bounty hunter's.

 

Faust's smile was all but beatific at that news.

 

Sweat poured down the Hunter's face, and though healed from the sonic damage, once more blood dripped from the Hunter's nose and then eyes as they turned black. Blood pooled in the gauntlet of his right hand, leaking out and staining a branching pattern down the blade of his Sith Sword, which began to pulse with darkness, throbbing in rhythm with the void in the Hunter's eyes. The Hunter's chant, fast and precise- set to shape his thoughts and will for what must be done, channeling the Force to do his bidding, never wavered.

 

"Dust to dust... ashes to ashes... let the Darkness cover all, consume all... as it was in the beginning, so it shall be in the end... One Force, One Darkness, a circle of Hatred balancing life and death.... dust to dust... ashes to ashes.."

 

The Megiddo then lived up to its namesake in that instant. The ship seemed to power down for a second, as if something were leaching its engines, and from those looking at it, it seemed as it the stars around it went black.

 

A beam exploding out of the front of the ship from an almost ornamental looking sigil on the ship's front. It was narrow at first, then widening as it shot out towards Kuat right at Kuat City, the planetary capital. Fett's ship was directly in the crossfire, but protected by the ysalamiri's bubble, it experienced what could best be described as turbulence in space and nothing more and was left a bubble sitting in the middle of the black wave that had widened far beyond the radius around the ship.

 

The scene on the world below was... spectacular... awful, but spectacular. Though in a sense, the damage from that initial shot was on par with a powerful capital ship turbolaser firing down on a civilized planet, the effects were far, far more perverse. A black dome encompassed where the beam connected, shorting out electronics in the periphery, and growing until the radius of the blast was over twelve thousand of meters (four miles) wide. The beam connecting to the planet started to rotate like a twister, causing strong headwinds around it. The tornado of Darkside energy only lasted for several seconds before it dissipated, gone.

 

Where the blast struck, buildings still stood. Shielded electronics still functioned, barely, coping as if they were hit with a sudden winter that quickly thawed.

 

Within the radius of the blast, nothing survived- no people, no animals, no plants, no microbes. Nothing. Of the millions caught in the blast radius, only around the edges did decayed and desiccated corpses remain, a look of shock and horror etched into their faces. Closer to the center, only dust blew in the chill wind.

 

The Force rent felt at Dantooine and then Kashyyyk was nothing compared to the Hunter's Ritual being committed in the midst of a fully populated planetary metropolis, and that cry echoed across the Galaxy.

 

Aboard the Megiddo Faust was laughing as he fed, feeling the stolen energies return to him. The power, the life was so sweet! He drew the energy in, prepared to fire another round at the planet below when the price came. As if doused in liquid hydrogen, he froze, feeling the cold numbing spread from head to toe. The raw hunger in his being was filled, only to renew itself a tenfold. The Dark Side was fed... and it grew within the Hunter, upping its price for power. Faust knew he would never regain the sense of touch in his being- he was immune from pain, pleasure, warmth, cold, and everything in between- still mortal, still flesh, still vulnerable, but numbed forever by the power within him.

 

Locked into his seat, he felt the strain of his earlier wounds heal once more from the stolen life energies in the Force, his own blood drying on his face. If he could still feel, he would have felt vapors of blood in the air condense on his skin and turn into drips within the sealed chamber. Exhausted beyond measure, the Hunter did the only thing he could do- he passed out.

 

Commander Melfis Druger was numb in a different way. While not Force sensitive at all, regarding it as at first superstition, then some weird trick of biology and mental energies, he felt what happened. His whole crew did. Faust's guards in their Vaderlike suits had retched in their fancy armor. They would have been driven to tears had their conditioning and training not gave them a fear of weakness like that. In a voice barely above a whisper, Commander Druger gave the command to make the pre-arranged jump to hyperspace to arrive at their set coordinates.

 

Solemnly, the crew obeyed and the three ships were gone, leaving Kuat behind.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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