Csilla

[Exodus]

Alarms of endangerment, echoes of explosions, sheer pandemonium and the concrete innuendo of fear sewn itself into the entire scene. Exodus kept an impossible patience about him as he lowered the ramp from his established starcraft; his force distinction was detained to a bare minimum, but as the ramp fell onto the cold plated floors, it became hopeless to attempt to sense his presence. His peerless frame of physique stood tall and loomed over the crowds of mortals which hastened around the rather large dock.

 

He released a soft breath from his tenuous hood and lowered his attention to the woman who stood but a small distance from his position. The moment for him to speak was now, but he kept silent. The woven weaves of wind brushed passed his excellence and lifted his apocalyptic wardrobe afloat and still, silence conquered. He almost hesitated but refused as he took his first step forward. Another one, quicker this time, had led him closer to her but he was in no such haste. It was aesthetic, but Exodus was now a whisper away from her in just a few steps. The impeccable skin that covered him whole came close to hers and almost brushed upon her ear loaf before he opened his mouth and allowed a tasteful aroma to compliment his words.

 

”œYou've grown, Dominique.”

[MSA]

Scorpio let a wave fly high as his hand shook back and forth as Nom disappeared into the battle, and soon made his way toward Onderlin's force signature. All the while, wondering what Nom was up to.

 

"I hope he hasn't already put the LAF through alot of damage."

 

Scorpio heard the comm that onderlin sent out, knowing that he had no way to reach the Hand of Honor, but still, he hoped that Onderlin would supply a way. The Jedi Sentinel turned a corner, Republic soldiers running past him, all having grave looks upon their faces for some reason as Scorpio came upon Admiral Starlisk and giving the Jedi Master a polite bow before speaking.

 

"Sir, Knight Scorpio Armegedon reporting. I heard tell that you need a Jedi? I have no form of transportation, but if you can provide it, i can do my best to handle the Hand Of Honor's troublesome situation."

[Gren Sairdonga]

Spitting yet another Tie Interceptor Gren pulled clear of a small dogfight of Alliance and Imperial fighters Gren swore... The Justiciar was under heavy assault...

 

"Sentinel, Destiny and Forn squadrons form up on me... We got some cleaning to do... Havoc, Ghost, Briar, i]Breaker[/i] and Fortress squadrons form up on the Justiciar."

 

As the two A-Wing squadrons and his own E-Wing squadron formed up around him in a loose bowl Gren headed straight for the Tie bombers attacking the Alliance Command Ship...

 

Just as the five B-Wing squadrons formed up behind the Justiciar...

 

Twenty-four concussion missiles scream out and decimate the two bomber squadrons... The A-Wings after unleashing their volley of missiles charge forward and take the survivors by laser... Forming a defensive circle around the Justiciar to stop any more bombers...

 

"Bombers on me."

 

Pulling into his rear the B-Wings primed their payloads of high yield proton torpedoes... Their target... The Fell Hammer... As they fly another two squadrons of E-Wings join them... Now seven squadrons worth of fighters are around the Sentinel's

 

Occasionally another squadron or two will join them... Then drop off when Imperial fighters appear... Then they were in range...

 

"All fighters fire your payloads then get clear! Two pairs. Second three seconds after the first!"

 

Gren ordered even as he unleashed a paired proton torpedo set against the shields surrounding the Super Star Destroyers engines and another against her bridge... One hundred and sixty-eight torpedoes at each target... He fired the other pair. Not waiting to see the result of over three hundred torpedoes against the SSDs shields he puuled up and around in a tight turn... Watching as the B-Wings dispersed to target Star Destroyers around the battle... The three E-Wing squadrons pulled around and split up... Two going to support a the beleaguered defenders of one of the Cruisers... The Sentinels slammed into the rear of a large dogfight...

 

Activating his comm and setting it to Fleet Command he sent a message to all the cruiser Captains...

 

"Command. This is Cmdr Sairdonga... The Fell Hammer has been softened up... Maybe its time to the Imps where it hurts?"

 

((OOC: 2nd Round without PC dogfighters on Imp side.))

[ObliviousKnight]

And now, Armiena was ready to unleash six barrels of hell on the unsuspecting forces of the Imperial Navy. They had never seen the Starsword Jedi starfighter in action before, and their ignorance would soon damn many of their pilots.

 

Her journey through the Imperial flank would begin with a flight group of TIE Interceptors that had vectored off of the bulk of the squadron to protect the vulnerable rear of a TIE Bomber squadron she was rapidly catching up to. She nodded as they split into wing pairs to engage her; it was a sensible tactic, being able to force most craft to expose its flanks while it engaged one of the wing pairs. However, the Starsword was not a conventional starfighter, and she intended to prove that very quickly.

 

As the five craft closed, a tone began beeping on Armiena's control boards as her craft began to calculate a firing solution--immediately, the four TIEs began juking and weaving, either because of experience or because they were equipped with early-warning systems.

 

However, they couldn't have been ready for this. Armiena unleashed one of her six warheads, which dutifully closed in on one of the TIEs... but it split into five pieces approximately halfway between them, each one closing in on a separate target. The formation reacted predictably, hurled into sudden chaos as all four of them had to cope with a missile lock. It mattered not if they succeeded in eluding the tiny warheads--Armiena had already sailed through the void they left behind, twin laser turrets taking potshots at the TIEs while they frantically evaded the missiles that were hellbent on destroying their craft.

 

Their instinctive self-preservation spelled would spell the doom of countless of their comrades.

 

When Armiena's starfighter surged into the formation of TIE Bombers, it became a matter of how many fighters she would be able to destroy in one sweep. Considering the armaments of the Starsword, the answer was: quite a few.

 

The pilots of the TIE Bombers had no choice but to immediately evade when their escort folded on itself, but for most of them, it was already too late. Armiena charged directly into their collapsing formation, laser turrets blazing. Within seconds, she had closed in on a solitary TIE Bomber, linked the starfighter's primary weapons, and squeezed off a single shot that transformed its warhead magazine into an improvised explosive device.

 

One second, there was a panicked Imperial pilot, shrieking curses into his helmet as a Jedi Starfighter ripped into his friends like so much tissue paper. The next, only vacuum and a vague imprint of pain on the Force.

 

This was why Armiena hated space combat. As morbid as it might have sounded, at least you could attach a face to the men you killed while on the ground.

 

I hate this... However, Armiena knuckled under and proceeded to blaze through the Imperial formation, fighting her way through to the Rebel fleet. One could easily track her movement by the explosions that seemed to follow in her wake.

 

Armiena allowed the remnants of the first TIE Bomber squadron to pull together; time was of the essence in this situation. She rather rudely interrupted a dogfight between a two diminished opposing squadrons--X-Wings and TIE Interceptors, clashing like the mortal enemies they designed to be. She didn't stick around to witness the conclusion of the tiny engagement; Armiena only took a second to slash her starfighter into the midst of the fray, scatter a number of shots that winged an unlucky fighter or two, and sow enough confusion to tip the scales in favor of the X-Wing Squadron.

 

Another unlucky TIE Bomber squadron nearly succeeded in completing their goal evading the Rebellion's A-Wing interceptors and delivering their warheads to a Mon Calamari cruiser... but their grim satisfaction devolved into fear as they realized that five of them had been targeted by another of Armiena's cluster missiles. Similar tactics, similar results. Armiena wasted no time in trying to hunt down each of the squadron; her only goal was to plunge their ranks into disarray long enough for a flight of Rebel A-Wings to converge on their position, and then she continued on her private crusade, rendezvousing with Justiciar and submitting her request for back-up.

 

"Draygo here. I need a boarding crew to help assault the Imperial flagship. Any Jedi who feel up to taking on an ambitious target, we'll be needing all the help we can get." All Armiena needed to do was declare that she intended to tackle the most difficult target of them all, but the grim tone in her voice should have been enough to indicate her intentions.

[Lord Asshat]

As Achzet continued watching the battle, he felt a surge of the force in the Imperial flagship. He sensed his former master there and decided upon going. He gave a quick order.

 

"Men.. as you were."

 

The men turned and gave a quick salute. Achzet chuckled, turned, and left the bridge. He walked to the hangar and opened his cockpit, via the force. He jumped in, set the controls, and took off. The small and agile tie interceptor was engulfed by space as it left the hangar. On the way to the ship, he saw a few enemy fighters and dealt with them.

 

He refound his course and quickly was upon the hangar. He saw what was to be a two on one duel. He didn't like the odds the Jedi had against what appeared to be the new Dark Lord. He jumped out of the ship and let the ship slide to a halt. Achzet saw his former master and laughed. He lept and manipulated the force to push his legs and body farther. He landed beside the Dark Lord, his Crimson blade igniting while doing so.

 

He looked at his former master, Scorp and grinned.

 

"Hello, master." He laughed and awaited the duel to begin.

[Raynuk Montar]

If anyone had been close enough to actually see Quietus's face, they would have seen an odd sort of grin spread across his face. He was charging towards Scorp, and seemingly did not notice Nom charging up behind him. But then in a flash of movement Quietus reacted to both Jedi at the same time. Planting his heel, the Dark Lord spun around on one foot, and planted a foot directly into the face of Nom, sending the Jedi sprawling backwards onto the ground, his lightsabers dropping from his hands. With the opposite hand, he shot a blast of force lightning directly towards Scorp and his apprentice. But it was not Scorp that the lightning hit. Instead, Quietus had chosen to deal an emotional and moral blow to the Jedi by specifically targeting Scorp's apprentice, who undoubtedly could not take on or defend against the Dark Lord of the Sith. As Scorp's apprentice crumpled to the ground, Quietus turned back to face Nom.

The entire movement had taken less then a second to complete, and as Nom struggled to stand back up, Quietus stood there, his head held high, looking down on the Jedi.

 

"Lord Achzet, I will give you the pleasure of dispatching the galaxy of your old master. I trust your skills will not disapoint me. He is to die here and now, or else you will be the first to learn the punishments for disapointing me..."

 

He shot the Sith a sideways glance and then turned back to Nom, who was just barely back on his feet at this point.

 

"Nom... So nice of you to join this little 'party' of ours. I had hoped that after our last encounter, you would have learned to not throw your life at my feet. But apparently Jedi are as thick headed as they are pathetic... But if you wish to have yourself slaughtered once more, I would be happy to oblige. I promise you, neither you, nor your friends will leave this ship alive, or even in one piece."

 

Quietus grinned ever so dastardly, and approached Nom slowly with his blades ignited. If it hadnt been for the duel that Quietus and Nom had had so long ago, The Dark Lord would have dispatched him here and now. But to a point, he held some respect for the Jedi, and decided it would be a much more glorious victory if it was well earned.

[Lord Asshat]

Achzet glanced towards the Dark Lord and nodded back with approval. He blinked quickly and watched as the jedi attempted at taking down the Dark Lord quickly. However, the act was not successful, resulting in the apprentice being knocked out for the battle.

 

Achzet wiped the sweat away from his forehead and flung it to the ground. He then turned his focus upon Scorp. He watched the man intently, while gazing into the man's mind. He saw the fear inside of the man's mind. He watched as the man shuddered, knowing he had failing in properly training his apprentice.

 

"You see master? This is what happens when you attempt to train someone, when you yourself are weak-minded. You feeble attempt at training me was a failure just as you are a jedi. Well, now it has come back to haunt you. You will die here today, I promise you that."

 

Achzet swung his saber around, quickly warming up. he sent a jolt of pain into the man's mind to distract for a short time. He sent pictures of death. Not only the death of him, but the deaths of his apprentice and the countless other jedi that would fall today.

 

Achzet concentrated on his passion and hatred for his master. He let it flow through him and positioned it into an act of manipulation. He focused the force into his hands and thrashed it outward violently. He watched as his master was thrown halfway across the hangar. Achzet charged and swung his saber downward, but watched as Scorp rolled out of the way. He found himself on his back as he was tripped.

 

Achzet jumped to his feet and lept once more at his master, concentrating on his unique form of lightsaber combat that he considered his own. The duel seemed to be at a stalemate from this point, however Achzet had a little trick up his sleeve.

 

He got Scorp into a saber lock and slid his saber down the man's hilt, causing a large burning scrape to form on the hilt of his saber. He pushed it even further, severing the pinky finger that was on the man's hand. He pushed the man off the saber lock and watched the man yell in pain from the severing of his pinky finger. Achzet laughed as the man groped in pain at the loss.

 

"You see what the darkside can do? Join us and you will become more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

 

Achzet put himself into a defensive position and awaited the man's response.

 

((#1))

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

Scorp had uncharacteristically screamed in pain at the loss of his finger, and supposedly was so over whelmed that his new apprentice had taken a hit, that he had been sloppy enough to let a failed attempt at a Jedi taunt him into battle.

 

He looked over at his apprentice, he had simply been to slow to save her, that was his failing, and he would atone for that. However this man before him, this Sith Lord was not his failing. Only Achzet had been responsible for his fall, and it was time to truly teach him that final lesson.

 

He shook his head of the mental images that the man had flood in his mind, his left hand still throbbed when the lightsaber had removed a digit, but he would survive. Unlike his apprentice he could actually wield a lightsaber and strike where it mattered.

 

His lightsaber suddenly deactivated itself, and with a slow delicate movement he clipped it back on his belt. He noticed that his fallen apprentice seemed to have a look of confusion upon his face. He opened himself up to the force, allowing the ebb and flow of its energies to rejuvenate him. With out moving a muscle he sent his former apprentice

Into the hull of the ship the boy had landed in the hanger. He took no satisfaction upon hearing the body slam against the view screen with enough force to crack the sturdy window. He briefly watched the body tumble to the floor before returning his focus to the task at hand.

 

Reaching down, he picked up his apprentice and carried her over to the alliance troops who had recovered by this time and had simply been standing back in awe, as lightsabers had been activated and blood drawn.

 

Kneeling down in front of one trooper, he gently laid her down on the cold deckplates. She would wake up in time however, if he had his way this day, another apprentice of his, wouldn't see the light of day again. He felt no fear, nor anger or rage, simply acceptance.

With a slight tug he removed his saber from his belt, flexing his left hand, which still throbbed from the removal of a digit.

 

”œTroopers, if the Sith turn their direction your way, I want you to turn your rifles on them and set it for stun. Other than that proceed with the sabotage and or destruction of this ship. I think we Jedi have everything in hand here.”

[Lord Asshat]

Achzet's own confidence was his undoing. He felt himself being thrown backwards by a sudden wave. He was stunned, momentarily, by the blast, but recovered quickly. He cursed to himself in his mind and wondered why he let his own guard down.

 

I seemed to underestimate my former master for a second there. I guess he is slightly more worthy than I had once thought.

 

Achzet watched as the apprentice was placed in the guard of a few of the rebels. He chuckled as he did so. He reactivated his saber and lept towards his master once more, failing again to inflict more pain upon him as he was flung backwards, while letting go off all oxygen in his lungs. He felt the after-effects of how a kick to the diaphram would feel. Achzet layed on the ground once more and took a few seconds to recover.

 

Achzet slowly stood once more, straightening his burly, brown, hair, and wiping off the dirt that now covered the back of his robes. Achzet stood once more and gazed into the eyes of his master again. His red and yellow eyes full of hatred and the lust for his master's blood to stain his robes.

 

Achzet concentrated once more upon the force and manipulated it into his grasp. He pulled a young rebel soldier to him, found the heart of the soldier and crushed it with the force. He then threw the corpse at his master, thus creating another distraction as he threw a small knive at his master. He watched the knive find a home into the man's calf, cutting into his nerves and shooting a small sense of pain, that might be able to be ignored for a short time.

 

Achzet pulled himself to his master and delivered a force intensified kick to the man's temple. He watched his master fly into a crowd of rebels. He pulled the man upward via the force and concentrated on the man's jugular. He began to slowly squeeze the life out of him. He watched as the man's face began to turn a shade of purple, but let him out of it.

 

"You will not get to die that easily."

 

Achzet delivered once more, a force push sending his former master into the very ship he had just made contact with. Achzet lept at his master, swinging his saber downward, at the man's head, intent on delivering a fatal blow to the man's face. However, the man ducked out of the way and Achzet slipped off the hull of the ship and fell embarrassingly to the floor. He cursed to himself once more in his mind and stood again. He reactivated his lightsaber once more and swung it around in a stylish fashion. He wiped the sweat off his eyes and took a deep breath.

 

He watched as his master recovered and awaited a response or counterattack from the Jedi Knight.

 

((#2, sorry, I thought you already knew about the duel.))

[Wookiee Jedi]

As Kirlocca sat in meditation, using the force to aid his allies in battle, he heard the comm go not far off from where he sat.

 

"Draygo here. I need a boarding crew to help assault the Imperial flagship. Any Jedi who feel up to taking on an ambitious target, we'll be needing all the help we can get."

 

Kirlocca responded to her through the force.

 

 

I'll give more aid through a Force Meld.

 

Kirlocca reach deeper into the force, stretching himself over the battle field as he created a Force Meld for all Jedi on the battle front.

[Onderin Starlisk]

There were comms and events all over the place. More Star Destroyers had disappeared since Onderin's last update, and not too many remained. Perhaps the Empire didn't come as prepared as he had expected. Did they really think that they could win this battle?

 

It was definately still a possibility. We need to keep on the offensive, Onderin decided. A comm came in from a Jedi Warren. "Warren," the Admiral responded in person, "I need you to repel the invaders aboard the Hand of Honor. I don't know who's aboard, but may the Force be with you."

 

A comm came in from Armiena. She was going after the Super Star Destroyer. Onderin sent a comm out to her. "Support is on its way," he said. Immediately thereafter, several transports full of troopers with E-wing escort launched from the Justiciar to her aid, heading for the Imperial flagship. She would not be without support.

 

The Jedi Master then turned to Scorpio, who had approached him. "Padawan Armeggedon," he said, "you have a choice. You can either go to the Hand of Honor and help Jedi Warren to clear it, or you can join up with Armiena in the attack on the Super Star Destroyer. You'll likely be needed in both places."

 

The battle continued to rage, and Onderin felt himself be swept into a Jedi battle meld. Kirlocca was doing an excellent job. The emotions and moods of each Jedi on the battlefield were opened to him. Master Anorus was fighting an old enemy, and so was Scorp Ession. Battles raged. He felt Armiena's determination and mingled amusement as she skillfully piloted through dogfights. He felt Kirlocca's calm as he played his role in the battle.

 

This was definately going well so far. The Admiral only wished that Kirlocca could both perform Battle Meditation and fight with a lightsaber at the same time.

[Delta73]

Delta's ARC-170 rocketed out of hyperspace with the sympols of Red Dawn emblazoned on its wings. Delta locked out the S-foils on his ship and activated his waepon systems aboard the craft.

His ship had exited hyperspace far away from the battle, but in a few moments he could enter the battle if the need arised.

 

"Crosa, everything working out over there? Are the back turrets working?"

 

Delta looked acrosss his diplays looking for Gren Sairdonga's transponder signal. And there it was tangling with the Imps.

 

"Crosa I have spotted him, next to the SSD, shall we capture him?"

Delta turned his head and awaited a response.

[CassandraKirk]

Nulmiri slowly regained consciousness, becoming very painfully aware of what had happened to her. She ached all over. Her eyes snapped open, when she felt a hand on her back, making her pain worse.

 

Her vision started to blur, again. She closed her eyes, and let herself fall into painless unconsciousness.

 

(( Sorry. Super short. Took me a while to catch up.))

[Nom Anor's avenger]

((3 post Modded duel I take it? Ready, set go.))

 

As Nom neared his query, a vicious boot planted itself firmly against his face. The impact was harsh, knocking him backwards. The Jedi Master stumbled awkwardly, the attack having caught him slightly off balance. Nom accompanied the attack with a rather comical butt plant, the hard steal floor of the Vortex offering little in terms of cushion.

 

That's Quietus alright... Nom reasoned, remembering the brutal hits he had taken at the hands of the menace now standing before him. The Jedi Master took hold of both his lightsabers, igniting their pearlescent blades once again. They shimmered softly, constantly feeding light into the darkest pits of his immediate area. His face looked carved from stone, as if emotion were chiseled away to make room for the mature, aged features now dominating his experienced countenance. Long flowing silver hair tangled form his scalp, adorning his dark brown tunic. Nom's eyes, pools of gold, shimmered defiantly. He took each breath with care, crafting a serene posture of mystery, his next actions clouded in the unknown. Then, as if shattering his sculpted face, he cracked a smile so blatant he almost surprised himself.

 

"Just as arrogant as ever I see. Has cowering in fear taught you nothing Quietus?"

 

Despite his comment, the Jedi Master knew something was different about this man....something illogical. It seemed he had fallen off the face of the galaxy, yet here he was assuming the mantle of flagrant intimidation once again. Even for a Sith, this level of arrogance seemed slightly unnatural. Unless Nom now faced an entirely different enemy than he once knew. Nom certainly was not the only one to have improved since their last engagement, the Force told him that much.

 

Such improvement soon went on display as the Jedi Master moved into action. As coincidental as it might have been, he was now aboard the Imperial's Interdictor. His mission could not have been clearer. If he failed now, the Rebellion would be trapped under the Empire's relentless assault.

 

With a swift flicker of motion, Nom was gone. His lightsabers receded into extravagant arches of lights as they trailed towards the towering Sith Master, the only indicator of Nom's position. As soon as the Jedi reached his location he leapt into the air, letting the Force carry him far above his opponent. As he traveled through the open currents of the hanger, Nom called upon the Force in mid-flight. The energy source quickly responded to his draw, its power ready and waiting to be utilized. As Nom manipulated the Force within him, its effects were immediately apparent.

 

After reaching the height of his jump, Nom suddenly split into two exact copies. Long tendrils of silver hair reflected in perfect symmetry as the second Jedi Master dawned the exact appearance of its host. The two Jedi landed in cat like grace on either side of Darth Quietus. Both charged forward, one laying siege to the Sith's frontal position, while the other assaulted his back. It was time for the Sith two choose which was real and which constituted the illusion, before four lightsabers skewered him.

 

((1))

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

Temple throbbing and head on fire, it was almost as distracting as half yet another knife in his calf. Sure he was over six feet tall, however how was it that his calves always found a knife embedded in them in some way or another.

 

He sighed, he was always being too slow, he had been two slow to dodge the knife, and he had been too slow to keep the save the life of the alliance soldier. He lightsaber almost sounded like an angry hum in his ears as he paused and re-evaluated the situation.

He accepted the loss of the Alliance troopers as well as the knife in his calf. Reaching down he removed the knife, and after a moment of concentration stopped the bleeding with the force.

 

Tossing the knife aside, he allowed himself a brief moment to look back, as the last traces of the alliance troops and his padawan streaked down the corridor and for that matter away from the multiple lightsabers in and around the hanger bay.

 

His former apprentice had made three mistakes, the first being of course his fall to the dark side. The second having been to show up here and the third was that he had no killed him when he had the chance. Scorp would make sure that Achzet realized each of these mistakes.

 

He readied his lightsaber, standing in the very formidable and very tiring horse stance. He isolated the pain, the pain in his calf, the pain in his head, and the pain in his heart. He isolated them locking them into the corner of his mind to be attended to after he was done here. To feel anger at this predicament would be foolish and unbecoming of his Jedi status. He put asides his regrets and his uncertainty over whether or not his padawan would recover from the force lightning of before and instead prepared himself to either fight, run, or die. A hyperawareness over came him, the sound of his breathing, the genetle hum of the lightsaber he grasped, the messy reunion between Nom and the Sith he faced, the cool breeze filtering into the hanger from the ruined doors, and the fould stench of the dead reeking as bodies, no longer under control collapsed in on themselves or exploded forth from their bowels, only to cause each and every independent part to die alone, in a sea of death.

 

His lightsaber held at the ready was about to drill into Achzet a lesson he had clearly forgotten. He wouldn't cause Achzet to fear his lightsaber, as that was not the purpose of the lightsaber. No he would instead use it as the tool that it was. It would be the tool used to end this fight as quickly and as mercifully as possible. Even if it meant destroying his former apprentice.

 

Blows had been exchanged, and strength's tested, now, was the time to truly show what skill with a lightsaber mean. The counterattack that Achzet waited for never came in the way he expected it. Instead of charging forward like a bantha in flight, he instead leapt into the air, only to come to rest onto his ship's hull. Closing his eyes he access the force before applying it to the chemicals he had labored so hard to create, suddenly with a flash that made a flash grenade look like a firecracker, his entire ship's hull flared up in a wondrous display of force power and chemical reactions. Even with eyes closed the sudden flare from the ship was close enough to blinding him. As Achzet struggled to see, Scorp who was a bit woozy himself from the flash launched himself at Achzet. With the force he drew the blinded man to him, only to slam his knee into Achzet chin, before quickly delivering a spinning roundkick to the man's ear. An assault of the senses was Achzet's fate before he felt the cauterizing heat of a lightsaber as it made a shallow wound across his chest and shoulder as he spun away from the kick.

 

Achzet had been lucky, the wound was in the right place, but had not been deep enough to kill. Giving Achzet no time to counter attack, he spun around jabbing one end of his lightsaber at Achzet only, to use the momentum of the parry to drive the bottom end of his lightsaber into an upward slash that threatened to cleave Achzet into two pieces from the bottom up.

 

((2 yea, mr dark Lord of the Sith gave me the update, right after I had asked to have my butt handed to me by him.))

[Bad karma]

Dominique pulled in a shallow breath as he walked by, her heart skipping a beat but quickly returning to its normal pattern after hearing his words. She watched him continue past her while holding down her bitter disdain. She remembered why she had left, but none of that mattered. Today they would work towards a common goal and with their combined might it would surely be achieved.

 

”œYou've not changed, Exodus.”

[Lord Asshat]

Achzet's expected too much of his former master. He of course never really watched his master duel a real Sith before and had not taken notice of how good his master really was. He watched in a slight awe as the man did a great force propelled leap upon his own ship's hull. This would be the last sight he saw for a couple hours as the reaction of some type of chemical created a blinding effect upon Achzet.

 

Not being able to see, could have a profound impact upon someone who was not a force user, however Achzet found other means of seeing. Achzet concentrated hard on the force brought a surge of energy around him. He "looked" into the force and concentrated on his master's signature. It was much easier to read due to the effect they both had on one another and the relationship they once had. Achzet felt a sudden burn on his chest as he was hit twice by the cauterizing blade that was a lightsaber. He was then kicked in the chin, almost dislocating his jaw, and sent tumbling backwards to the floor. He grasped his chest in pain and forced himself to suck up the pain and used it only to further his anger. Pain reacted differently to Sith than it did to Jedi. Jedi would normally feel the pain and attempt at nulling it. Sith focus the pain into power. Achzet relocated his chin put it in place.

 

Achzet found his master's force signature coming down upon him. He moved to the side and used his momentum to force himself to his feet, evading what would have been a savage blow to the legs and torso. Achzet brought his own hilt of his saber upward connected a savage blow to his master's chin, causing his master to stumble. Achzet used this oppurtune moment to spin his leg around kick out his master's legs, causing him to fall to the floor. Achzet delivered a force powered shot to his master's chest and stood up.

 

Achzet lept backward a few feet to recover from his blindness. He deactivated his saber and thought about a strategy of finally overcoming this fight. He sensed his master beginning to finally recover and stand. Achzet charged his master once more and brought his saber downwards, however this was a fake slice as Achzet brought his fist up from below and uppercutted the Jedi. While stunned, Scorp probably felt a stinging sensation as Achzet brought his saber upon his master's chest, creating two deep marks where his pectorals were. They would not kill him... yet, but they would cause him to weaken.

 

Achzet lept into the air and brought his saber horizontally, intent on beheading his former master's torso, from his head.

 

((#3That was a fun duel, good luck.))

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

A stinging sensation was not the way he would have described a saber slicing into his pectorals. No more like the very sudden sense of burning pain and loss that would accompany anything that could cauterize a wound on touch slicing into one's primary pushing muscle for his upper body. A sudden spike in the force warned him of the incoming danger, yet despite this he couldn't raise he blade to defend himself. So he did the next best thing. He dropped.

 

Ducking under the incoming blade, he deactivated his saber, which was now more of danger for himself to use than to his opponent and instead caught Achzet in the gut with his foot before rolling to the right in an attempt to evade any sort of counter attack.

 

He may have lost the mobility his arms once possessed, but all was not lost. His arms still functioned to a degree. He reached out with the force, he may be unable to end this battle quickly with a lightsaber. However, he still had other means to finish the battle. With a surge of the force, the same knife that had recently been embedded into Scorp's calf shot forward tearing through Achzet's hand and striking a critical blow to the man's lightsaber.

 

The lightsaber's angry buzz rose in pitch briefly before exploding still inside of Azchet's hand.

Giving the man no time to recover, Scorp sprung forward, giving his martial arts skills quite the test as he hammered away at his wounded apprentice with a series of kicks, all with the intent of simply bashing his head in. Driving the point of his boot into the man's temple, he then kicked up off the ground and slammed his heel into the back of Achzet's head as his former apprentice spun to the ground.

 

Hitting the cold deckplates with a thud, Scorp felt a brand new river of pain as his chest expanded after being jarred from the sudden impact. Staggering to his feet he wasted no time in rushing forward again. He had allowed his opponent to catch him off guard and lost a great deal of mobility due to his failing. Yet even though he was no longer using his lightsaber, his lightsaber style was still apart of his movements, as the acrobatics of form four and the power and charging of form five, began to hammer away at Azchet's thanks to a number of well placed kicks. He heard something crack as Achzet attempted a block, and Scorp slipped through the defense and impacted directly into the man's rib cage.

 

He would stop his former apprentice here, and complete his mission. He would not, could not let Achzet stop him from removing this ship as a negative factor in the battle that raged before him. With a sudden surge in the force Scorp used the force to slam Achzet's head into the hull of his ship. In that moment after impact, while the world was still spinning Scorp disappeared from Achzet's senses. He knew what he was about to do. The sudden sound of a lightsaber activated as he pulled the same trick he had on Onderin. The inherent difference was that Onderin could see and Achzet could not. His force signature appeared before Achzet, the sound of a lightsaber hummed through the air, intent on simply striking down the Sith Lord in one blow. Scorp on the other hand cautiously maintained his deception in the force, He slowed his breathing to slow the pain exploding form his chest with every breath. He was tired of counter attacks, tired of fighting, and tired of conflict. At least this time he wouldn't slip up, Achzet had nothing but empty air and a very dangerous lightsaber infront of him.

 

 

((# 3 yea, and quick too, too bad all duels can't end this fast))

[darth shadowlord]

Yet another flash of light on the horizon signalled the enterance of another Sith to aid Empire. The sleek ship slipped into the battle, heading directly toward the Fell Hammer. He could feel the power of the Emperor radiating from the Bridge as he piloted the ship inside the aft hanger bay. Alerting the stormtroopers to the his presence as a Sith, he was lead to the bridge and to Emperor Geki.

 

"Emperor, I have come in aid of you and your fleet. Not as a fighter however, but as an aid in the Force."

 

He took up a spot near the Emperor and lowered his head, his brow furrowing as he opened his mind to the potent currents of the Force. His eyes began to lose their color as he took hold of power and began to channel it through his body and into the figure standing before him. He began to reinforce the flow of Darkside to the Sith.

 

He began to divide up the way the currents were flowing depending on who needed more power. He passed a wave of the Darkside towards the Dark Lord as he entered battle with a Jedi Master. He would have to keep track of the way the battle was flowing. If the battle flowed went against the Sith, he would attempt to increase the flow of power, passing it to whoever needed it the most.

[Omega73]

"The turrets are fine Delta."

 

Crosa checked everything over just to make sure. He noted that this ship was a lot different then his own R-22 Spearhead. Crosa now realized he only enjoyed flying when Crosa himself was flying. Even though he trusted Delta's Piloting skills of course.

"If we can capture him, lets go for it!"

 

And now.. the moment he had been waiting for...

[Damon]

Taking note of the battle Damon started to fly twoards the battle itself. Many conflicts were going on and many force users had taken flight to this scene.

 

When his orders arrived he acted.

 

"Admiral this is Commander Damon. You know my talents and skills put me to where they are needed."

 

((However if a fellow jedi was I don't know to send me a message or somthing I would come and help.))

[Exodus]

The men that surrounded the room now stifled as the chill of death crept up their spines. Exodus stood still, calm and without so much as a flinch in reaction to their screams of absolute pain. The shouts hollowed out and he was merciless in his frozen stare; the men couldn't even breath, they suffered and convulsed on the floor with attempts to free themselves from their entrapment. It was horrifying, but amusing nonetheless. The remainder of soldiers somehow maintained an honest composure even as their comrades slipped in and out of this realm; their will could not be broken.

 

”œJedi..”

[Raynuk Montar]

(I would expect nothing less. Lets do this, and lets show these silly noobs how a real duel is fought )

 

As the copies of Nom pounded against his lightsabers relentlessly, Quietus' face remained calm (For a Sith that is) and continued to parry and deflect the various blows that were raining down on him from both front and back. The Dark Lord spoke not a single word, not showed any signs of weakness or exhaustion. But ever so surely a small grin spread across the Dark Lord's face as he battled back against the copies of Nom, putting a little more effort into his parries and deflects, ultimately pushing Nom's blades farther away each time he made a strike.

And then all at once, Quietus began to laugh manically. He had been toying with Nom up until this point, showing off that he could defend himself against the two copies. And then suddenly, Quietus' blades were turned off, throwing Nom off balance due to him expecting some resistance. At the same moment, as the blades closed in to the Dark Lord's body, Quietus dropped into a backwards roll, in the middle of his roll he hooked his sabers back onto his belt, and grabed the ankles of both copies. Since one was a mere illusion, only one ankle was real, and with a little help from the Force, Quietus yanked hard on his ankle, sending the Jedi toppling over again. As Nom fell, Quietus sent a swift kick to the side of the Jedi's head, breaking the mental aspect of the illusion and he again flew halfway across the room with the force of the blow.

 

"Tsk tsk tsk Nom... It seems you can not stay on your feet can you? How do you expect to die honorably when you're on the ground?"

 

Quietus grinned again, and charged Nom, this time only one blade, his pure black one, was ignited in his left hand. As he charged, Quietus received the 'boost' of darkside provided by Draken aboard the Fell Hammer

 

(1)

[Delta73]

"Alright then, lets get him!"

Delta pushed the accelerator and his ship jumped towards the intese battle, its pilots intent on capturing Gren Sairdonga, and killing some rebels for all the time they had waisted over Dubrillion...

[Dagon]

::The Hydra, Liberator, and Silence emerge directly in Csillan atmosphere thanks to Deepstrike technology. The Liberator deploys shock troops and technicians to the surface of Csilla to recover the documents stored there. The elite soldiers fan out and clear the archives of resistance, while the technicians begin the process of transferring the handwritten records to the Liberator. Meanwhile, the Silence and Hydra deploy Nightbringer bombers and sensor decoys to confound enemy defense weapons. The Nightbringers move in on their targets, military hangars and orbital defense weapons, invisible to sensors.

 

On the surface, Dagon senses a presence that feels familiar but that he does not recognize. It is strong in the Force, but neither truly light or dark, just chaotic. Checking his weapons and armor, he enters the archives with an elite kill team, not sure what to suspect.::

[Ulos Rolan]

Eruptions rattled the endless skies as the infinite screen of blackness trembled at the hands of man's creations. Color sheaths of plasma encased steady lines of light, their vibrant enclosures dissipating upon scurrying fighters and metallic behemoths. Amid it all, Ulos kept his nerves cool as his hands keenly manipulated the instruments in front of him. He could afford no error in this battlefield, or his value would surely be wasted before redemption was reached. Though flying was not his greatest suit, fate reassured him he would not die in the air. He would be more.

 

I am more.

 

A certain giant commanded special attention from him in the force, a ship exuding such a strong aura of darkness mingled with destiny that its lure was undeniable. With immediate reaction, the jedi exile's ship became but a streak of light in the sky. There was something about this ship that called to him, something about it that perished all doubts and drew him like an alcoholic to a drink. A jagged dagger twisted itself deep inside the gut of the man as the analogy struck a chord too close to home.

 

Salvation's Dagger cut through the air as its velocity increased, weaving in and out of fire as though creating a tapestry woven from the essence of the stars themselves. His ship approached the hangar, and the ship began to startling deceleration. It nearly collided with the hangar wall of the Hand of Honor, yet it eventually settled down in a vacant space.

 

Within seconds after the canopy hissing open, Ulos hopped out and onto the solid floor beneath him. Before him laid two forms toying with rebel troops (Exodus and Dominique). Their power was enormous for sure, yet something inside of him told him he had to do something. He had to interfere. He had to.

 

Or they were all doomed

 

He stood right behind them, watching indolently as the troops died meaningless deaths. There was nothing that he could do really. It was too late for them, but not for the others. He would let his mere presence in the force announce his entrance. He was never really one much for words”¦ unless he was buzzed of course. Of course, that was a life he had put behind him, a life that he had decided to kill”¦ much like the lives of these two figures.

[MSA]

((Actually Onderlin, it's Knight Armegedon, thank you very much. . And hope you don't mind, but i'm taking a quick liberty here. ))

 

With confirmation from Admiral Starlisk, Scorpio started making his way toward the hanger once more, the proudful Knight running as fast as the force would let one of his ranking as he turned twist after twist through the almost maze like corridors, his destination laying a grim presence before him.

 

"But which one?"

 

It was true, Scorpio was faced with his first difficult situation, choosing between two tasks where lives were needed to save other lives, preferably that of a Jedi. It was not the choice that matter to the Tatooine native, but the consequences if he failed to reach both. But the greater question had already been asked..... "Which one?" There was only one thing in this universe that made perfect sence, made the perfect guide, and today's guide would be that of the force for the Knight.

 

Calming his breathing, he searched deep as he continued to tread onward still toward the Justiciar's hanger. The first ship was an enemy ship, the Jedi Grandmaster herself on her way toward it. Surely Armiena could handle herself out there, as when he had first met the woman she seemed capable of it then. But the other, a friendly ship of the republic, two powerful Sith apparently aboard, the Hand of Honor was it's name.

 

"But which one?"

 

The same question still appearant as he felt for the force's guidance, letting the once uncontrollable river now flow over his shoulders and round his body like a strolling stream as it rolls over shallow rocks. The choice suddenly became it's clearest as he reached the hanger finally, his disappointment in himself for not seeing it sooner.

 

"Lieutenant, i want you to get me aboard the Hand of Honor as fast as you can."

 

"Yes Sir" was all the young man could say as the small transporter left the hanger of the Justiciar and headed for the Hand of Honor, it's booters igniting as it sped toward it's destination. Scorpio hung tight on the side of the transporter as it made quick swoops from side to side, dodging blaster fire and laser cannon rounds as it flew, the Alliance capital ship coming ever so closer.

 

It wasn't long after that, that the transporter finally made it, a soft thud sounding it's landing inside the Hand of Honor. The side door of the transport slung open, a silvery headed man emerging from within. The artifical wing the man held on his right shoulder expanded briefly as it stretched out it's metallic wingspan as if by natural instincts, before falling back behind it's owner.

 

This former Apprentice of Nom Anorus, one of the few still lightsided, was a force to be reckoned with, a Jedi Sentinel in his own right. He held the power to hide his presence as well as his sight, but he chose not to. After all, he wanted the Sith aboard to know exactly who they were messing with. Especially the one known as Dominique, as, if she had seen her Apprentice Yue as of late, she would be holding something that Scorpio would want back. Onward he treaded, his new destination, the presence of the Sith aboard.

[Gren Sairdonga]

((OOC: Black Sun boys... How do you spot one E-Wing out of at least 10 squadrons? No-one but me knows my E-Wing from any other... And no there was no indication at Mon Cal where it was built as to who it was going to... If you intend to duel me I'm more then willing to scrap but it may have to wait. This will probably be my last post till the 10th or 11th.))

 

Gren swore as another Tie Interceptor pulled into his tail... Adding its fire to the two others... Cutting his throttle and applying rudder to starboard he effectively put his fighter into a spin... Firing as he spun past he caught one of the unshielded Ties a glancing shot that liquefied its starboard wing. The other two scattered.. Gren moved to pursue one and watched as a Sentinel nailed the other...

 

Scanning around Gren grimaced... Another two Sentinels had been lost... Both dead... But the cost to the Imperials was high... At least five Maybe six squadrons of Tie Interceptors... Plus one of Tie Bombers... The dogfight was going strong around them... Over fifty fighters dodged and twisted trying to avoid death and vape their enemies... For now the Empire had the advantage in numbers... But the superior ships and pilots of the Alliance were taking their toll...

 

Once again activating his comm as he and his wingman threw themselves at several Ties Gren tried to get a link to Admiral Starlisk.

 

"Admiral Starlisk. This is Commander Sairdonga. We're gaining the upper hand amongst the starfighters Sir. Requesting further orders... Or targets to concentrate torpedoes on."

[CassandraKirk]

Nulmiri woke up as she hit the floor. Half of her pain was gone, although it did hurt to be thrown on the ground. She heard breathing, like someone was out of breath. She sat up and looked up. A soldier was bending down, trying to catch his breath. " Anyone ever tell you that you are heaver than you look?"

 

Nulmiri just tilted her head to the side. She had no idea what was going on. Another soldier filled her in. She was supposed to sneak around and put det packs in places that would do serious damage to the ship. She nodded. She asked for some det packs, and someone handed her three. Clipping them to her belt, she stood up, careful to stay behind the pillar they had thrown her behind.

 

Gingerly looking around the corner, she motioned to the soldiers that the path was clear. They moved around, careful not to attract too much attention. Normally they probably would have been caught by now, but everyone must have been focusing mainly on the battles elsewhere.

 

Once they got to the first engine, she looked around for a place to put the det pack that would be out of sight. Once she spotted a place, she bent down and set the pack. She didn't know much about combat, or ships, or lightsabers, but the knew plenty about detonation packs. She looked around; two soldiers were setting packs at the other engine.

 

Backing away, she started to make her way to the next engine room. They had a few very close calls, considering that she wouldn't stand a chance against the sith in this ship. They made it to the other engine room safely, however.

 

Finding a good hiding place, setting the pack, and some other soldiers doing the same, they left to make their way back to the hangar, putting detonation packs in various places along the way.

[Amidala Skywalker]

Ruling on Scorp vs. Lord Achzet:

 

Very nice, quick duel. It was simple and to the point, which was a welcome change. There always seem these people who want to make every duel epic.

 

I also liked the significance of it being between a former master and padawan. You both played that up nicely, having your characters react accordingly.

 

Achzet, I think you need to work on not posting the other person's actions as much as you do. I understand it's hard to make a compound attack without it, but strive for it as much as possible. I especially noticed it in your first post with your statement of Scorp screaming in pain. However, you did a great job of reacting to what Scorp gave out, and even berating yourself for your mistakes.

 

Scorp, you did an excellent job reacting to attacks as well. I also liked how you reacted to the things you did that weren't attacks, like the heavy landing in your last post. Great work on not using your arms at all in the last post.

 

You both need to watch your grammar for run-on sentences, etc.

 

Overall, I think Scorp had the upper hand in the battle, so I'll have to rule that he is the winner.