Schloss Dauerhafte Dunkelheit – Sith Temple (Dagobah)

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

Lucifer viewed his apprentices as they conducted their exercise. He felt them disappear from the force, they were both successful...at least for their level of skill.

 

The sith lord spoke again.

 

''Excellent, both you you have done well by harnessing the darkside to your will. However there is another aspect of the sith way which also you must learn before we venture forth...that of combat.

 

Take a sabre or any weapon from the weapon stand on the wall. You shall fight one another and through it you will gain a understanding of both each other and the darkside. Only by fighting do you really know someone...much of a person's personality can become evident during a fight and it is then that you expose their weakness.

 

You begin as soon as you are ready, harness your anger, your rage into your very being and use what I have thus far taught you of the force...do not kill your opponent but bring them to their knee's through any means and try not to maim them...irreversibly. I shall observe the fight so try not to disappoint me.''

 

Lucifer then proceeded to stand aside before noticing Drake...he seemed unconscious, it appeared that in his last punishment the sith lord had 'pushed' too hard causing him to lose consciousness...no matter he would recover in time. Looking to a acolyte, one of the very few in this temple the kiffar spoke.

 

''You there come here.''

 

The acolyte approached cautiously before speaking.

 

''Yes Mi'lord.''

 

Lucifer replied motioning towards Drake (Raven37).

 

''Put him in a bacta tank and get him out of my sight.''

 

With that motion the acolyte onbliged dragging away the motionless Drake out the door and along the hallway before placing him into a bacta tank. It would be weeks before he would arise some of the doctors speculated. ((Done with permission from Raven37))

[Slicer]

The supreme illusionist did not think his title was anything short of the highest of achievements. Most Sith marveled at their ability to choke some one with the Force. Yet that was such a crude manipulation of the Force. One that was belittling to the actual power that had been gifted to them. Of course quite a few thought that his parlour tricks were just that, and not the masterpieces that he crafted. These were the same people who still believed such foolish things that they only had five senses, and that their sixth sense was the power of the Force.

 

If only they truly understood.

 

He had been from one side of the Galaxy to the other. He had landed on countless planets and took in the air and culture of many worlds. In all of his travel and experience, he found one underlying truth. Time was relative and that was the key to making any good illusion work.

 

He had once read a question that had wondered if aliens lived on a different time scale than his own species. He wanted to know if he would be perceived the same was a tree was, like a statue that seems to stand the test of time motionless and still.

 

To most people, that would be a ridiculous if not down right foolish question. To the being commonly known as Slicer, it was a fundamental corner stone of many of his illusions.

 

Nobody appreciated the brain like the Supreme Illusionist. It was a small three pound organ but it is the seat of anything and everything for his target. All of the hopes, dreams, loves, and fears rested with in that delicate and important organ.

 

As such he fancied himself some what of a specialist in manipulating the organ. In his experience to truly make an illusion come alive you had to understand a single fact. The brain was very bad at making predictions. Instead it was a matter of postdiction, where it takes context before the information is understood. If in conversation he said the mouse on the desk. Most people would look for some sort of animal. If he said the mouse on the desk was broken a far different image appeared than if he said the mouse on the desk is eating cheese. That was because the brain understood the word mouse, sat and waited for context and then goes back and visualizes it.

 

We are not conscious of the actual moment of the present. We are always a little late.

 

It was simple really. The brain of pretty much every sentient species needed time to get its story straight. So it takes in all of this information, the evidence of the world provided by the senses, and only after it has done so does it reveal what is going on to the best of its knowledge. At first this did not make sense to the Supreme Illusionist. Yet over the years he had found that perception and reality are often a little out of register. So since all of the senses end up slightly delayed, there is no context upon which a lag could be measured and therefore it is not detected. In truth reality is a pre-recorded broadcast that is censored and edited before it reaches the conscious thought and understood. It was the reason why early illusions often failed, as he had the misconception that since it felt like pain was immediate when he perhaps pricked a finger or place a hand in a fire that the lag time did not exist.

 

A question he often found himself wondering was how long the delay or lag was. The brain had to spend its time trying to put together the best possible story about whats going on in the world. While that on its own takes a bit of time, each sense has to have a different input rate. Touch in his mind had to be the slowest as it often had to travel up a spinal cord or be distributed in some way to reach the brain. Of course that had brought up further questions for him such as was body size a way to increase or decrease the lag time, with the smaller the body the closer to the present you actually are?

 

Timing is so essential to survival that it may be the most finely tuned of the senses. It had been his downfall quite a few times. People would sense that the timing was off within one of his illusions and before he knew it the spell was broken, via the Force or sheer force of will.

 

Yet he had long since then become the master of the delay, the Lord of perfect timing. He had experimented and found ways to manipulate those into perceiving the world the way he wished. He had found a number of interesting things.

 

In becoming the Supreme Illusionist he had found that the higher the internal temperature of a target, the faster the mental clock. This could cause thirty seconds to feel like a full minute. It was also quite clear that the body in general reacts far more quickly to sound than to something even faster such as light. The ears and auditory cortex were far more efficient in processing a signal than the eyes and visual cortex. He gauged the time to be in the realm of 40 milliseconds faster, which makes up for the speed of light, and in his mind helps the brain process all of this stimuli.

 

The involuntary timing a target had seemed to be even quicker than the time it takes for them to distinguish sounds. Yet even though a target can in general distinguish sounds as little as five milliseconds apart, he had found that he could have a delay twenty times that length and the target in general doesn't notice. It as a sort of fine tuning that gave him quite a bit of lee way in crafting his illusions, as he was bound by the same constraints as his targets.

 

Of course one of the things he had found actually troubling was the way targets responded to unfamiliar things. It seemed the more familiar the world was the less information is recorded by the brain. So time end up passing far more quickly as not every detail is being noted and so the flip side is true. It is as though the more brain resources that are being used the longer time seems to his targets.

 

Had this been all there was to mastering the art of illusion, It would seem a complicated yet doable task. Yet to make a world believable, you had to included all of the senses of a target. The funny thing was despite, his mastery over the sense of time. It did nothing to shorten the duration of the hike.

[Calmin Ayion]

Calmin's eyes glanced from the weapon stand and back towards his Master, Lucifer upon hearing his words of fighting each other. True, he wanted to gain as much experience as he could, but he felt like he may be at a disadvantage with this other apprentice. Unlike Drake, whom Calmin was sure he held enough over... This Zuko was different. He had already tried to go after Lucifer, and almost succeed. If he was to win, he would have to use every advantage he had, plus his anger.

 

Walking up up to the weapon stand, he choose what appeared to be a sword of some type. Not really sure of what it was, he picked it up to get the feel of it down before he decided upon using it. It was fairly light with enough length to help him defend. There were other weapons, but none that the Miraluka would be able to hold, so he went with what was easiest for him to use. Besides, he used a sword like weapon before and knew how the blade would move. He wasn't sure with anything else, therefore he was sure it would go against him in this upcoming fight. He than walked away from the stand and stood at the ready, waiting to see what sort of weapon his fellow apprentice Zuko would choose.

[Qaela]

Qaela took a deep breath as she slid out of her trance and back into reality. She had to look at her chrono to see how many days had passed and was not pleased. She was tired from the exertion and lack of nutrients. It was not good to do this to her body, but it was a necessary thing to equalize her unborn children's growth. For the last few weeks, she had woken every two or three days from her trance to eat, drink, and take care of herself so she wouldn't waste away.

 

Surprisingly, nobody had decided to interfere with her. Part of her had hoped that Ca'Aran would come back, but she had apparently angered him enough that he didn't want to be anywhere near her. That saddened her a little and it confused her as to why. She didn't care what others thought of her, especially males. Yet, she didn't want Ca'Aran to be angry with her.

 

She had managed to equalize the development of all three of her children and put them all on an accelerated growth as planned. It was more draining than expected with three, but having more was an additional benefit as far as she was concerned. Three would be better than one.

 

She stood up and stretched out to loosen all of her tight muscles. With a sigh, she decided it was time to venture out of her ship. She was getting tired of the same instant heat meals and was wondering if there might be better food in the outpost. That and she really needed to see Ar-Pharazon to find out if he had found out anything regarding what she had asked him to search for.

 

She started strapping on her Katarn armor so she could go out. There were still other Sith around and she didn't trust them at all. As she was putting on the chestpiece, she noticed that it was getting tight around the middle. Her normal slim figure was giving way to pregnancy. It wasn't very noticeable, but it would get worse as time went by.

 

She made sure the chestpiece was as loose as it could be and donned the helmet to complete the set. She didn't activate the comms just yet, she didn't feel like just calling up Ca'Aran because it seemed like that would anger him more. She did activate all of her regular systems instead of leaving it a dead hunk of ceramic and metal.

 

In her armor, Qaela couldn't feel the humidity and heat of the Dagobah swamp. She could see the mists and imagine what it was like, but she was comfortable in her suit, cordoned off from the rest of the world. Her staff was on her back and she had the lightsaber Haphaestus had given her on Coruscant attached to her belt. She had a purpose for that particular item and hoped it would serve her well.

 

Instead of going straight inside, she decided to linger outside. There was a presence nearby that was familiar to her and she wanted to explore that a bit more. With her mind, she stretched out to that presence and summoned it once more as she had done weeks ago during battle. It took several minutes for the dragonsnake to reach the clearing. She surmised that it must have been hunting in the area after she summoned it and didn't go very far.

 

The beast was an impressive specimen of an animal, even if she didn't think it stood a chance against a rancor from home. While under her control, the predator was no threat to her and was as docile as a house pet. She looked at it and wondered if it could be ridden, but quickly dismissed that idea. There was no natural place to mount and the creature needed to be able to slither and crawl unimpeded to be able to function.

 

She sat down upon a mostly clean log and just soaked in the collection of life in the swamp. As before, there was always plenty of death and suffering here. It felt so refreshing to be able to latch onto those feelings after spending so much time focused inward. She kept the dragonsnake in the clearing and simply admired its potential for destruction and death. If she could find a way to transport and feed it, she might even take it back with her to Dathomir. There would be places there that could sustain the creature and it would be interesting to see if it could one day hold its own against a rancor. At the least, it would be a useful surprise for anyone trying to attack her.

[Delta73]

Delta nodded slowly to Ar-Pharazon. He let a smile cross his lips for a brief second. "Starting another temple would be quite beneficial, maybe even a joint venture between Black Sun and the Sith order. In fact..." Delta considered for a moment. "Black Sun has just finished taking over every single business on Bespin, perhaps the Sith would like to open a temple there? It would be cloudy all the time, but it would be fun. Plenty of slaves to kill." He smiled wickedly, and sent a savage kick at a small furry creature, splattering it upon the wall.

 

He entered a comm transmission from his helmet to his awaiting ship, the St. Cathryne. It touched down close to the entrance of the facility. As they walked, Ca'Aran pondered what Qaela was doing at this moment. He come to the conclusion that she was most likely sleeping with yet another person. It seemed as if whoever decided her destiny was very desperate for such action in his own life. Strange.

[Rose Cariadus]

Zuko followed Calmin over to the weapons stand and glanced across the weapons he could choose from. Dangerous things of ancient beauty they were. Some were older than all the people in the room combined. That drew a smile from his pale lips. He reached with a black gloved hand and grasped a sword with a long curved blade. A long hilt followed the curved blade. He smiled and grasped it with both hands, it was evenly balanced, and seeped with an ancient malice. It would be a good blade, even if only to train with.

 

He walked to the centre of the room and looked to his fellow apprentice. He bowed low, the brought the blade into a high guard, useful for long spinning attacks. The hilt was long enough to deal a great amount of power from a single blow. It would be a good fight.

[darth shadowlord]

"Brother, I am currently on Dagobah near the northern pole of the planet. It seems that certain things need to be attended to."

[Calmin Ayion]

Calmin was unsure for a short moment on whether he really should just lunge at Zuko on a whim all because his Master told him to do so. But, there was some merit in the exercise, as he would get to know his future counterpart in which he would eventually have to fight or fend off if he was to ever become the Dark Lord himself. So with the very thought, he began to use the technique he forced upon himself to hide his own thoughts as best he could and lunged at Zuko with his blade high, hoping to catch his fellow apprentice off guard. As he moved in close with his strike, he changed up and brought it around to his other side and low. If he could cause any form of confusion within Zuko, he would be able to claim his temporary victory.

 

((1))

 

(Sorry for the shortness. Work has cut into time I have to pre-write.)

[Qaela]

Qaela's reverie was interrupted by the arrival of a ship. The dragonsnake hissed at it in a most angry manner, but this was a foe it could not win against. Even then, the beast may have tried had she not restrained it.

 

It was becoming all too crowded on this planet. She had hoped that this would be a quiet, safe place for her to have her babies, but that appeared to be beyond hope now. She sent the dragonsnake into the jungle to prevent whoever was arriving from mistaking it as a threat and attacking. That and it would be a useful surprise if whoever was inside was hostile.

 

The ship landed but nobody came out. She hazarded a quick mental scan of the ship and found no life forms. It appeared to be automated, but that didn't mean it wasn't a threat or full of droids. Instead of approaching it, she choose to skirt it and go inside like she had planned.

 

She could feel both Ar-Pharazon and Ca'Aran's presences together and was displeased. She had business with both, but it was not something she particularly wanted to discuss with the other around. While she had a small measure of trust””if such a thing could be said of her””in both of them, but she was not exactly keen on all of her business being displayed before both. She was a secretive person like the rest of her kind and probably like most Sith.

 

She still had her helmet and considered activating its networking features to contact Ca'Aran. Before she did, she paused. He had not been pleased with her when they last parted and would not likely wish to talk to her. She was not sure how to approach him without a negative reaction. Normally, she didn't worry about such things as most Nightsisters were perpetually angry with each others and she didn't care what outsiders thought. For both Ca'Aran and Ar-Pharazon, she couldn't afford for them to be angry with her for they were too powerful of allies.

 

In the end, she decided to only go halfway. Instead of approaching them, she would just wait along their general path and let them decide if they wanted to talk or not. Approaching an angry Sith, especially one like Ar-Pharazon was never a good idea, so she didn't want to spark a confrontation with two of them at once. If they didn't want to talk, then they would simply avoid her and she would leave this planet never to return.

[Slicer]

Ah after then thousand years I am free... time to conquer.

 

He shook his head. He had caught a commercial for a kids show while browsing the holonet. It had helped keep him alert while he made this dangerous hike. At last though relief flooded through him at the sight of the temple and ship that seemed to be parked near by.

 

His guard was up moments later however as when there was a ship there were people. He instantly began to use his various instrument to preform recon at a safe distance. Closed off to the Force as he was, he was in a double bind, where they could not sense him nor he them. This was good as it seemed everywhere he went lately there was some one Force sensitive with a really good sniffer.

 

Feeling he had decent Intel, and receiving the completion of the omega signal. He stepped up and approached the temple, after taking the time to examine and mark the ship he had found. It would help to know what he was walking into, and now he had a pretty good idea.

 

He entered in cautiously and quietly.

[Rose Cariadus]

The pommel grasped firmly within his hand, Zuko pivoted the blade to a high guard. Usually used to fight charging cavalry, but it was just as useful against the opponent in one vs one combat. Long fluid strikes, channeling the huge potential of strength from the bodies' centre. The man seemed ready for the coming duel, though Zuko had never seen him actually fight, he had no doubt that he was an honourable opponent.

 

The man struck, his blade angled high, a deadly move, and one that would have left Calmin's sword embedded though Zuko's skull. Having set his mind on surviving, and having surrendered himself fully to the ebbing flow of the darkside, Zuko had a split second of premonition. Just enough to accent his well trained mind and body to step slightly to the side and pivot his blade to a spinning block to where the blade ended up. Not in his head or neck, but at his ribs.

 

A smile whisked across Zuko's thin lips and his turned the block into an attack, his blade wheeling around in a perfect circled from the blocked blade, and when paired with a shuffle step forward, would leave his curved sword within Calmin's trachea. Though as this seemed only the beginning of the duel, Zuko kept his mind and body alert for the inevitable block and counter attack.

[Slicer]

He had marked every single living sentient being in this little encampment. Marked as in fed to his battle computer so that he could track their movements at all times. He had clearly stumbled into a Sith nest, as evident of where he was currently standing.

 

Where was he?

 

Why he was right near a lady cover from head to toe in armor, while facing down Lap and some chap in armor. truth be told it was an armor party he hadn't been invited to but had seemingly crashed. All the same he stayed with in the shadows, using the shadows and murkiness of the swamp to disguise himself and his movements. He still gave nothing away via the Force of course. It would take a manual spotting of him to give him away, and he had a plan for that.

 

It is never wise to enter a sith camp uninvited, I need a bit more information before I either attempt to slip out or walk out.

 

So he waited.

[Slicer]

There were multiple people in the area. One of the most powerful and dangerous sith were nearby. He didn't have a bead on the man he was talking to nor the other armored being who was hanging back waiting to talk as if this was a school yard. Well he didn't know their combat abilities. Still it didn't matter, as he didn't need info he needed to leave. He was covered in mud, vines and leaves, and looked like a swamp creature instead of a well trained and highly paid bounty hunter and or assassin.

 

”œTC 15 meters left, PD 25 meters AT. Time 5 seconds. Follow with twin laser blasts 15m left TC”

[Qaela]

Qaela felt Ca'Aran and Ar-Pharazon approaching through the tunnels to where she was waiting for them and breathed out a sigh of relief. They weren't going to take another passage to avoid her. She hoped that Ca'Aran wouldn't be too angry with her, but even if he was, she still needed to talk to Ar-Pharazon.

 

She wasn't entirely comfortable in this place and hadn't been since she first saw it. Having grown up in the open wilderness of Dathomir and spending most of her life outside, she had no love of enclosed spaces. It took some time to get used to space travel, but being deep underground in this Sith infested hole was worse. Yes, she definitely liked the dark aurora that seemed to surround all Sith establishments, but that hardly made up for the drearily confined and perpetually dim passageways.

 

As she caught a glimpse of their lights coming through the caverns, she heard two small pops on the surface high above them. A little dust began to fall around them, but that was about it. She turned slightly to the side to get a better look at the walls. Her first thought was that another ship landed””something that was highly probable considering their current depth and the ship that had recently landed””but was interrupted by the sound of an igniting lightsaber and a force that hit her from behind knocking her down.

 

The sweeping lightsaber attack from behind took her by surprise as she had sensed nothing around her other than the two approaching Sith. The attack aimed at her lower back appeared to be meant to either cut her in half or do a very good job of it, but it would not succeed at this point. The blade was able to begin its cut into her armor, but was stopped by the cortosis staff that had been slung on her back. As the lightsaber hit a substance that would not yield, it transferred its energy into kinetic force that, coupled with the strength of the initial attack, drove the unsuspecting Qaela to the ground and spared her any further damage.

 

She hardly had time to reflect on how ironic it was that a weapon so recently taken from an arrogant and overconfident Jedi would save her from a cowardly Sith ambush (for no Jedi would attack in such a dishonorable way) from behind because her reflexes sprang into action. She had trained to deal with sudden hits and attacks from nowhere, so she let her body react naturally didn't let herself become stunned.

 

As she fell forward, she tucked and rolled. The armor softened the blow and protected her shoulders so they didn't get scraped up during the move. She came back up into a crouch with the red lightsaber given to her by Haphaestus ignited in her hand ready for a followup attack.

 

<>

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

Ar-Pharazon let his temper flare right back at this mysterious attacker. ”œIf you are a man, behave as one ”“ especially in the presence of a lady!”

[Delta73]

Ca'Aran walked several steps behind the most glorious and evil Ar-Pharazon. His steel boots making a peculiar tapping noise as he walked through the tunnels deep under ground. It was the thing that made this temple so awesome, they were incredibly far underground. He laughed as he saw Qaela's approaching form, there she was, illuminated in the torch light, her beautiful form clad in the armour he had bestowed upon her. It graced her form elegantly, an armoured shell to protect her fragile form. Her staff slung across her back, akin the the ancient witches of old.

 

He felt like embracing her, and whispering an apology in her ear. But sadly he never got the chance, there was a distant rumble, and some dust scattered down the corridor, the sound of a distant explosion could be hear and felt. Years upon years of fine tuning muscles for an explosive reaction. His Disruptor rifle was in his hands when he glimpsed the cyan coloured lightsabre ignite behind his one true love. He saw a flash as the sabre hit her.

 

A sudden fear gripped his soul, which in turn caused a large amount of adrenaline to be pumped into his body. The disruptor rifle's butt-plate pressed securely against his shoulder, And the sights were set securely upon the figure illuminated by his blade. Qaela seemingly had fallen either by the blade, or had jumped away. Either way, she seemed to be down. Ca'aran's fingers depressed the trigger, and a Disruptor bolt leaped for the man's centre mass. As fast as light itself. Destructive as a thousand burning stars, the single bolt would lay waste to this careless assassin's body, armour or no. His finger depressed time and time again, and a hail of death would bring this dishonourable assassin to his grave.

 

"You will die here, you miserable filth, take our greetings to Beelzebub, Legion, and the Shayātīn. For you shall dine with them shortly."

 

<>

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

Lucifer heard a ruckus outside before feeling the building shake as pieces of rubble fell from the ceiling...one large chunk nearly squashed him forcing him to dive out the way less he be pummeled into a red paste, he spoke briefly to his two apprentices before leaving them to their fight.

 

''Continue on with the fight. I shall be back momentarily it seems someone is looking for trouble.''

 

And with that he left the room making his way along the many corridors, running the direction he heard the noise coming from and where he felt at least 3 presences in the force, two powerful masters at least of which one had to to be Ar-Pharazon. Yet he felt something different about the third person...at first it was subtle but then he felt it again to be sure.

 

It was conclusive, it appeared that whomever this was...was pregnant, and with twins or so it seemed at that however that was not his primary concern he was here to investigate the commotion so he may finish training his apprentices and move on with his mission. Running along the corridor the kiffar soon found the group after barely managing toa void several instances where he came close to being crushed by rock as whatever was causing the shaking loosened up the old rock of the corridor walls, had it not been for the force he would have since been crunched into nothing but dust.

 

It appeared Qaela, Ar-Pharazon and the other armored man whom had earlier given him a false name appeared to be in some type of fight with another powerful sith. Upon feeling him he found this was the other powerful force user he had felt in the area. Deciding on whether or not to intervene he thought upon it momentarily calculating his chances of success and if he helped what would he get out of it. After the momentary calculations were over he surmised it was wise to help Ar-Pharazon and Co...not just this but by helping Qaela he would in fact pay off the debt he still owed to her for saving his life once before.

 

Thus he took into account all actions currently playing and and his subsequant reaction. He noted the twin laser blasts but identified them as a deceptive measure from his opponent, adrenaline filled his veins as did the force...he always liked a challenge and this would be no different, he always enjoyed spoiling a party. Lucifer remembered seeing this man only once before did he see him within the Coruscant Sith Temple, he had kept to himself but seemed the type to decieve and then kill his foe.

 

The kiffar focused as he maintained a visual upon his newfound opponent standing to the right side, close enough to see the events unfold but far enough that he would be relatively unharmed or as unharmed as a sith could be. Letting the darkside fill his every being he stayed back at first before waiting for an opportunity to strike, as the man was distracted or so it seemed by Ar-Pharazon, Qaela and the unknown mercenary he struck out letting a visible streak connect him to the assassin as he slowly drained the man of his health in affect weakening him to feed his own power, if it lasted then the man would be weakened enough that at least one of the others would strike the killing blow.

 

Lucifer spoke once letting the man know he meant business just as much as those he was currently allied with albiet a uneasy alliance.

 

''You dare to enter here and start a fight with a woman, for shame. Do you have a reason or did you just feel the need to kill her. Not that I would be bothered per se personally but currently I owe her a debt a debt I intend to repay here and now, thus you picked the wrong time and place friend to fight her.''

 

<>

 

((Note: I mentioned the use of avoiding rubble, running to the scene and observing the fight and then the use of 'drain' via the force as set up for this assist))

[Calmin Ayion]

Calmin would be lying if he said he didn't think he would get lucky with his first swing. But truth be told, he didn't much trust being within an apprenticeship with another. He felt like every moment was being weighed against them. As his attack failed, he quickly allowed for his eye sight to open to full perception. It wasn't as hard to do, as he only saw through the Force anyways. He could see the currents of the Force swirl around, almost taking on a new level a momentum against him. Realizing a counter attack could very well be heading his direction, he lifted his blade to remain center with his body.

 

The next thing he saw was a blade coming at his throat, or perhaps maybe his chest? He couldn't get a full depth of the weapon charging at him. Deciding simplicity was his best friend here, he ducked down and to his own left to avoid the weapon. Realizing that he was still vulnerable, he lifted his blade to lift Zuko's weapon away from his body. As he did, he decided to unleash what his master taught him. Raising his left hand to be parallel with Zuko's, he allowed for Force energy to push upon his fellow apprentice's ribcage.

[Jidai Geki]

Slicer vs. Qaela (killshot defence assisted by LAP and Delta):

 

There are several factors to consider in determining whether this killshot is successful: the position of Slicer's ship, the position of Qaela relative to Slicer, and the position of everyone within the complex itself.

 

The complex is clearly stated in the first post to be underground. This makes punching through even twenty feet of ground extremely difficult; more so when considering that the ordnance used was a concussion missile (generally fairly weak against armoured/fortified targets) followed by laser blasts. Given this, it seems extremely unlikely that the weapons would be able to puncture through the ground and impact the target area in any meaningful way, although the explosion of the concussion missile may well have served as a distraction. The positioning of Slicer's vessel is also somewhat ambiguous; the last time it was referenced, it was in orbit, and I couldn't find anything to support the assertion that it had descended to surface level. Irrespective, it is a moot point given the limited application of the surface attack.

 

Secondly, it seems reasonable to assume Slicer's attack came from behind Qaela. It would have been extremely difficult, if not impossible, to sneak up and around someone in the confined quarters of the tunnels below the surface, and indeed Slicer's attempt to destroy the tunnel connecting Qaela and LAP/Delta confirms that the attempt was made in a confined area. The cortosis staff would have been somewhat useful in thwarting the attack, but not completely; it is likely that a horizontal slash from a lightsabre would still have bitten into her side.

 

LAP and Delta's assists are, given the lack of effectiveness of the aerial attack, valid, and as such, Slicer is currently telekinetically pinned in place, and uh... punched in the balls with fire. The effectiveness of that particular attack is to be determined by him, as is usual with damage conceded. Delta's shot with the disruptor rifle also hits, but because of the rapidity with which it was fired, and as far as I recall disruptor bolts must be first charged to be completely destructive to disintegrate someone with a single shot, the hit is glancing and not fatal- though disruptor bolts are nasty and this should be acknowledged in Slicer's next post.

 

Qaela is down and wounded from a cut to the side; Slicer is fixed in place and hit by the two attacks; as the killshot instigator, next post goes to him.

 

KILLSHOT FOILED

[Slicer]

His lightsaber stopped short of gutting his target. Still she was grievously wounded and that amounted to something. Yet there was no joy in failing to complete a job for the bounty hunter. Since the tunnels had not collapsed as he had wished, he could feel his own anger rising. It was unprofessional at best, yet sometimes you just had to ride out the emotion when faced with a life or death situation.

 

As his target collapsed, Slicer was seized mid strike on a follow up finishing blow. What would have been a rather punishing blow delivered straight below his belt, ended up with a slight wince as the area became too hot for comfort. It was the flash of light and searing pain his chest that caused true worry.

 

As he struggled to draw breath, he was already moving, his objective to break being pinned in place with the Force. A tongue flick activated the sonic scream in his helmet while a missile from his Kelvarex Consolidated Arms MM9 mini concussion rocket system exploded upon the being hold him in place. He would have thrown his lightsaber but couldn't find the strength to throw it.

 

NO Bounty Is Worth Dying For!

 

It was time to pull out and as he fell to his knees, a few shots from the disruptor came dangerously close to putting more holes in him. He was familiar enough with disruptors to know how they operated. He knew they were pretty short-ranged had enough ammunition for a few shots, and were incapable of firing rapidly or being set to stun. A brief though flickered of using the target as a human shield, yet he felt far too weak to lift and position the poor sliced up woman. Instead he moved while he spoke, the sonic scream having died.

 

”œ2 High ordinances on target one and two's coordinates. Time ten seconds!”

[Jidai Geki]

Slicer's last post is nulled due to several inconsistencies:

 

1. As stated in the ruling, the positioning of his ship was very ambiguous to say the least, the last sort of description given stating that it was in orbit. I'm not sure how long it takes a ship to descend through an atmosphere and to the surface, but I'm betting it's a good chunk of time. In the ruling this was irrelevant as an attack had no chance of penetrating the surface, but here this is a very important and contentious factor.

 

2. Delta's disruptor attack was completely disregarded, and then Delta's actions were posted several times:

 

It was time to pull out and as he fell to his knees, a few shots from the disruptor came dangerously close to putting more holes in him.

 

Italics are mine. As I stated, disruptor blasts are extremely powerful and dangerous, and yet it was treated as a minor inconvenience.

 

3. Far too much was accomplished in a single post. For the sake of reference, there's simply no way to activate this sonic scream, toss a thermal detonator, fire a missile at LAP, command two missiles fired at the location, and also get far away enough from the explosion not to be injured. To do all of this in such a short period of time is absurd. To do this without ANY sort of reaction from your enemies (save the reactions that were illegally posted) is absolutely incredulous.

 

Slicer remains in the tunnel, his ship is not yet close enough to affect the battle in any meaningful way, and since apparently the effects of a disruptor rifle are not clear, here's what would likely happen when shot in the chest with one: Slicer is very badly injured by the bolt and the chest plate of his armour is disintegrated to the point where it is useless as protection any more. Any and all actions taken in the previous post are nulled, and we'll take things from as they were at the time of the ruling, with the above addition.

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

Ar-Pharazon was one with the Force. He could feel every particle in his surroundings, even the tiny bits a thousand times too small to be noticed by the human eye. Magnanimous in his evil mystical abilities, he could feel the great power that flowed through him. This was not the time for slug-throwers and missiles. It was a moment ”“ for sorcery! More sorcery. Lots more sorcery. Abruptly he thrust out his hand straight toward the mysterious attacker.

 

”œDie!!!”

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

It was taking time as Lucifer ran down the corridors to investigate the source of the rumbling. The rubble that was falling in parts and the many places in the temple that were near identical made it difficult to traverse.

 

So far it had taken a fair while and as such the kiffar decided enough was enough. Focusing within the force he made his way towards the scene as time seemed to slow for him while to the average eye he would be but a blip in the wind passing by as his legs began 'speeding' forward. Hopefully to see what was going in time and find the cause of the chaos.

 

Edit - Made edits to those of whom it concerns hope it's ok now.

[Delta73]

Delta sighed audibly, he had forgotten again to fully charge the damned thing. Curse the wiles of disruptors! This time would be better. He peered down the sights and concentrated. His muscles tensed and he compressed the trigger. He could feel the whine of the charging weapon, he maintained his sighting upon the torso of the target, then let off the round. When it was fully charged. And behold! Disintegrating death leapt from the barrel, in a solid line of energy and light. Where it would no doubt make contact with the exposed and aflame chest, and burn a hole through his heart.

 

He had tried to kill the one woman he cared about, and that was a crime above all others. He had killed and murdered before, but this kill would feel better. Perhaps it would finally end his insatiable thirst for combat and blood.

 

<>

[Slicer]

His lightsaber stopped short of gutting his target. Still she was grievously wounded and that amounted to something. Yet there was no joy in failing to complete a job for the bounty hunter. Since the tunnels had not collapsed as he had wished, he could feel his own anger rising. It was unprofessional at best, yet sometimes you just had to ride out the emotion when faced with a life or death situation.

 

As his target collapsed, Slicer was seized mid strike on a follow up finishing blow. What would have been a rather punishing blow delivered straight below his belt, ended up with a slight wince as the area became too hot for comfort. It was the flash of light and searing pain his chest that caused true worry.

 

He felt a searing pain as a flash of light connected with his chest, and then it felt as though it was on fire. Still he was able to draw breath, so it wasn't as though he had a collapsed lung.

It was as if some one had taken a hammer and swung it into his left pectoral. If he had been standing on his own power, he would have been knocked to his feet with out a doubt. It seemed his chest piece had taken the lethality out of the shot, which was what it was there for. Still he was a Sith master who was no stranger to pain. He understood it was a warning sign but, instead he used it to focus his mind.

 

His stretched out in the Force and could feel another attack coming on. Yet he was pinned in place. For many beings in the galaxy this would signify a very gruesome ending. However when one was faced with a life or death situation, they were willing to do anything and everything to escape it. Slicer had been in many life and death situations. He had faced down more angry people than he cared to count, and had dealt with his fare share of Force users. What he had found was that nobody ever seemed to be able to grab a missile. So that is what he became.

 

His jet pack activated and quickly he shot up over head, as both a disintegrating bolt of death and a jet of flame pass by under neither him. Yet he had over estimated the amount of thrust needed, and ended up banging his head pretty good on the tunnel's ceiling.

 

Clearly he needed to get out of here, and by now his ship would be on the way for a pick up. The question was could he escape or would he have to fight? He belly flopped onto the ground moments later after banging his head. He was dizzy and the wind was knocked out of him pretty good but he only had one word on his mind.

 

Missile

 

”œFire”¦Missile, target three.”

[Qaela]

Qaela had instinctively rolled into a crouch with a lightsaber activated in her hands after the Sith attacked her. For a moment, as Ca'Aran and Ar-Pharazon opened fire on her attacker, she was ready to spring forward at him with her lightsaber. Before she could do that, pain from her side caught up to her and froze her into place.

 

It felt like her side was on fire so much so that she glanced down to check that it hadn't caught some of Ar-Pharazon's flame. She saw a seared mark slightly darker than the black armor she wore in her right side. Her throat constricted in pain and the curses she wanted to unleash were kept in.

 

It took her a few moments to begin using the pain to fuel her rage and hatred. Even then, the pain was causing her back and abs to constrict and making breathing hard. Her HUD was blinking all over the place with various warnings both from her own body and the fighting going on around her, but she ignored them.

 

Damn Sith, she thought, why can't they just leave me the hell alone? Over and over, they seemed to be trying to kill her and she was fed up with it. No more, she vowed. She was done with the Sith. Completely.

 

She remained crouched with the lightsaber lit, but she slumped against the wall of the passageway even as fighting continued around her. She wouldn't have gotten up even if she had wanted to because that would put her precisely in the crossfire. She wanted to contribute, but at this moment, she had no ranged weapons and didn't trust her legs to support her weight. Instead, she stayed down and kept her senses as alert as possible for any threats directed at her.

 

((I am not intending any influence on the current killshot/counter))

[Jidai Geki]

LAP and Delta vs. Slicer-

 

I liked the use of the jetpack here to escape danger, as well as some nice touches in acknowledging the difficulty of using a jetpack in such a confined area. Such a tactic is plausible in getting out of the way of the attacks targeted at Slicer, and as such he has avoided the disruptor shot and the flame attack.

 

Slicer dodges the attacks and LAP has a missile inbound, but I have to doubt the accuracy of a missile fired after catching one's head on a stone ceiling and impacting the ground hard.

 

KILLSHOT FOILED

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

OOC: This post is a bit much. Tread lightly, folks.

 

IC: With a quick, strafing movement, Ar-Pharazon side-stepped the awkwardly fired missile, which exploded on a rock wall. He did not sweat, of course. He did not let this charlatan's episode shake him. He was an evil man, utterly powerful, wise, kingly, magisterial, and highly resourceful. Compulsions and even the most wicked brands of foul Force sorcery presented no difficulties with this strange attacker. A shifty scowl twisted Ar-Pharazon's genuinely hateful face. Such techniques might have presented difficulties with some. A cruel few-a very cruel few-had a Force-balanced strength of self so firm incredibly that their minds searched (even if unaware) for crevices through which to strike.

 

It was Ar-Pharazon's bad luck that this mysterious character still had some small need for mental incapacitation, still being alive and all. Force Horror. It was now wholly necessary, and now the figure would seek escape, without even knowing he was trapped. Snatching at the darkest side of the Force, he filled himself with the power.

 

It was almost as time froze. Really, it just happened so damn fast.

 

Blink.

 

It began with simple dread. The forces of evil: from history's bastards and villains, to great armies, to murders, sank their teeth into Slicer's mind. Needles, flames, diseases, murders, disasters, terrorist strikes, cancers, more cancers, new animated cancers, living nightmares, skeletal dragons, and even oceans of fire flooded his mind.

 

Blink.

 

Normalcy.

 

Blink.

 

Without seeing them, Ar-Pharazon resurrected whatever parents had fornicated this man into being. Then, they were nailed to crosses, tortured, suffered, and burned. Bugs crossed his vision before nails scratched his eyes. A hue of bloody red covered his eyes.

 

Blink.

 

Every important document in his ship, both hard-copy and digital, was deleted immediately. His computers were bogged down with bloatware and pornography. His ship ascended into the sky and tore into hyperspace, never to be seen again.

 

Blink.

 

His lungs collapsed and he stopped breathing. Razors soared overheard before death took him.

 

Blink.

 

Everything was fine. Then, his blood became poison. His skin stripped itself from his body before forming a warrior that flew into the sky. His muscles spilled out onto a stony walkway.

 

Blink.

 

Storms covered the worlds. Blood became the new water. The clouds rained down diseases and rusted swords. Anger was the new currency. Free will collapsed in on itself. So did the mysterious attacker's animating principle.

 

Blink.

 

The dark Dagobah skies turned as blue as sapphires. The holy choirs of heaven wept. Truth collapsed. There was nothing to look at forever. The Jedi and Sith both ascended into a false promised land that imploded immediately. The mysterious attacker ceased to exist. Void.

 

Blink.

 

The cave walls in the Dagobah Sith installation turned into fetid muscle tissue. Ar-Pharazon, now an obsidian dragon, devoured the world. His tail knocked each star from the dark skies to the ground, destroying wretched cities of iron and gold. Both sinners and saints were cast into a hole. All religions were proven false. Philosophy stopped. In despair, the mysterious attacker pulled out his arms before losing every drop of blood imaginable. His broken body was slit endlessly with frozen, dry ribbons and flown like a banner in the red skies. At least to die, was to be free. He was reborn immediately, but in an energy-comprised cage of indestructible wasps.

 

Blink.

 

What seemed normal evaporated into a reality where only sound existed. Canyons exploded as the souls of all exploded into new existence. The mysterious attacker slit his throat with a cheap paper cutter. His blood became bleach and wiped out everything else.

 

Blink.

 

Everything was fine. Sith Masters Raynuk Montar and Barohm Zar relentlessly beat the mysterious attacker to deal with jagged shovels and ripped out his eyes in jest. Fire washed over the skies. Disgusting, bloated, and rotting red stars collapsed into the already polluted seas. His personal Hell was immediately set on a mobius strip. Every disease imaginable set in.

 

Blink.

 

An unborn version of the mysterious attacker willed himself aflame. The flame went on to sear everyone else too.

 

Blink.

 

Each reality became a sham for the mysterious attacker. Grabbing his lightsaber, thoughts of ending the nightmares fueled a sudden obsession with grim, hellish suicide. That lightsaber would help him take his own life. That was a good thing.

 

Horror transcended a harsh reality as the cyclical whirlwind of misbegotten reality set in. Whatever he did was now subject to falsehood and hallucinatory pretense. Whatever he thought was happening to him would indeed be novel. He might even come to believe that he had regained control over reality. What an idea!

 

He was in Hell. Or some variant.

 

That done, Ar-Pharazon released the mysterious attacker's mind. He didn't need it any longer. The scars would last forever.

 

<6-6-6-(DREADSHOT WITH FORCED SUICIDE REQUESTED ON SLICER)-6-6-6>

[Delta73]

An honourable foe, swift in battle, and deft in his dealings of death; a man he was, yet as deadly as any Delta had ever faced. His blonde brow furrowed beneath his helmet, in a dark mood of concentration. As his bolt lanced by its intended target, Delta cursed silently and let the disruptor slip from his grasp, emptied of its ammunition. The over-charged blast draining the last of its power reserves. Hours and days of drilling left no excess movement in his body, not a millisecond wasted. When the disruptor fell, his hands slipped to his sides and snapped to the grips of the FWG-5 flechette launchers in his hip holsters.

 

With an expert flip of his wrists, the FWG's came of fluidly, in an easy motion, almost faster than the human eye could track them. Like an old-galaxy gun fighter, the FWG's came level as the man began to struggle to his feet. The deadly sabre in hand. As he did, Delta's fingers depressed and the loud ”˜pop' of flechette pellets was heard. The pistols jerked in recoil, yet he held them steady, always on target. The man's chest was un-armoured, and that would soon cost him far more than the fee of an armourer. Razor sharp flechettes filled the air in front of Slicer, leaving him no room for manoeuvre. The man was already beaten, his surprise attack having failed. And now, the felid had been levelled.

 

There was naught to do but die, for round after round of the armour and flesh-shredding flechettes were before him. Mixed with whatever Delta's companion was doing, there was no hope, just the hope of life after death. Whatever Lord Ar-Pharazon had done would have distracted the man long enough for the razor-flechettes to tear his body asunder. Hopefully. No matter the outcome, Heaven, or Hell, awaited them.

 

<>

[Slicer]

Time itself stood still. One moment he was aware of what he was facing. The next dread began to fill his animal body. Dread forced into him by the Force of evil. Yet he reveled in this automatically, for it was nothing compared to him. Bastards and villains each had, had a mission in life they sought to fulfill. Each had a justifiable reason for their evil. The murders were kindred spirits to him brothers in arms that showed him the gravity of the situation he would be facing. Beyond that was pain, the pain of needles. It was that which triggered the danger in his mind. He could feel the murderous intention, and in his mind's eye he saw needles coming for him, attempting to drill holes into him. So he began to move, began to dive toward the only cover he could see in his eyes. Flames came onto him and he knew the needles were to bring more pain. Then everything simply turned to dread, as life forms struggled to survive and in gaining control of their ultimate power, losing it, and becoming a cancer of the system. No matter what there was always a new cancer, each one different yet all serving the same purpose. He saw Sith in his mind, that he attributed to the cancer than now filled him with dread. Yet even that faded away and was replaced by horror.

 

Then there was normalcy and he was in motion, in the air diving toward his target, lightsaber in hand.

 

Again his mind was”¦ under assault, this time his parents. They were getting something that was perhaps long overdue for them. A smile crossed his lips from behind his helmet in that instant. It flashed in that brief moment of time, the span of a mere blink. Then his eye sight was stripped of him as bugs swarmed his vision. Yet they were nothing to him, how could they be, they were just trying to survive. They had the same goal as anything else in this God forsaken universe. Then everything went red.

He could feel his war with himself slipping. The bounty hunter known as Slicer felt fear overcome him. His fear born from a true dread that so far these”¦visions had perhaps only hinted at. On some level he knew, or he thought he knew that his life time of knowledge gathered, had been destroyed. Nadus thought that his ship had left and felt another part of himself slipping. The pain in his chest began to ebb away, as a new far darker pain began to blossom from within.

 

Then it happened. As storms covered worlds, as water turned to blood, it all paled before him. Anger began to fill him, and then at last so did his will, his grasp over himself. His signature in the Force was lost to the Force, instead encompassing the whole tunnel. A feeling of a dark specter, as evil as time existed settled upon those present. It permeated the area to even the furthers corners. It did not feel like death, for that was only the end function of life. Instead it felt as if the world was collapsing. As though those caught in the room were unexpectedly beset by perplexing but purposeful, deliberate, and hateful attacks on their lives. It was a vile feeling that could take the breath of some yet, oddly imbue others with purpose. It was justifiable”¦

 

The cave walls in the Dagobah Sith installation turned into fetid muscle tissue before his eyes. The sith who had been attacking him, now an obsidian dragon, devoured the world. His tail knocked each star from the dark skies to the ground, destroying wretched cities of iron and gold. Both sinners and saints were cast into a hole. All religions were proven false in a theoretical proof he had never seen before. Philosophy stopped as did his hold on his own evil. In despair, he felt as though he pulled out his arms before losing every drop of blood imaginable. His now broken body was slit endlessly with frozen, dry ribbons and flown like a banner in the red skies. At least to die, was to be free. He was reborn immediately, but in an energy-comprised cage of indestructible wasps. It was over, and the bounty hunter known as Slicer was gone. In his stead was something else. Something that defined the evil that made the man function. It was his base nature. The very thing he struggled to keep under control and keep hidden. His own nature had locked his rational free thinking mind into an energy cage. It had allowed him to die and once reborn, it had taken control. All hope was lost for the monster inside was revealed. For evil was truly intelligence in the service of entropy. By his nature he was quite clever in biding his time, observing, and waiting until the opportune moment to destroy that which needed destruction. His way was insidious as his targets were struck down, often without known who or why. They never put the pieces together until long after he had already slit their throat, like taking a lamb to slaughter. Yet much like entropy, evil has a purpose and so did his.

 

His was an evil that seemed to settle upon those around him. Truly the evil that now permeated the place felt wonderful to those well versed in such feelings. Yet at the same time horrifying to those who had never experienced such an evil. Under its influence one felt almost regal and noble. As if they were the supreme ruler of a land. At the same time it felt as an intense as a love that a dedicated father had for one's children or a beloved monarch had for one's people. This feeling was all encompassing, like the mother devoted to her family, yet restrictive in the same way. It was to feel these ways and more. Like the man who clutched at the one heirloom he had left of his deceased father, all others having been lost or destroyed. Like the affection of two soulmates beginning to start the journey of life together, inseparable and hopelessly and deeply in love. Yet there was an edge to it all. A sense that was fine tuned and yet barely noticeable. Still it slipped past those under its influence, like a knife peeling the skin of an apple.

 

This fine edge was like blood on the tongue. One did not notice the blood but tasted the iron or copper flavor from the wound. It colored the feelings of before. Colored them such that the feeling of two soul mates became how far one would go to save the other. It became the rage that a father would feel upon finding out his daughter was raped. The desperation the monarch would feel upon seeing his/her beloved people oppressed by a neighboring nation. It felt like the lengths people in these situations would go to protect that what they loved. The edge became the lives taken and the willingness to sacrifice anything and everything, including their closest allies and friends, to ensure that their one desire was protected beyond all else. It was the motive of doing good brought to an extreme. It was the kind that allowed nations to strip the rights of individuals under the clause of security.

 

Still there was a thrill to this feeling. This thrill was akin to a father gazing upon his baby daughter for the first time. Also it was of the pride and excitement of being a monarch first bearing of the crown. As well as the feel of a blade parting flesh and causing the life blood of a rapist to be spilled from his own throat, as you save your daughter. Of watching the bullet shatter the face of your enemy who had raped your land, oppressed your people and, destroyed their lively hood. Even still an odd sense of detachment from it all is what really made it all the more horrifying. Almost as if despite who lived or died, none of it mattered, especially if you were still breathing.

 

Trapped in his own body, his own personal hell continued, as the clatter of armor slammed against the wall. He was no longer in control as Slicer the bounty hunter. Crouched behind the female, metal either whizzed pass him harmlessly or into the female he was using as cover. The shots were fast, yet he had moved before they had left the barrel. The death of the female was no longer on his mind. No his mind was locked away. It was suffering innumerable tortures, as the horrors continued to pound away at his psyche.

He had learned long ago that Sith were for the most part slaves. They are those who kill or perverse life and the environment for their own gain and pleasure. They are lured by greed, or by the temptation to use their power to do as they please. They believe their power belongs to them, and in this it controls them, as they focus solely on the power itself, and how to better try and manipulate it. In that they are not evil by choice per say but, instead evil by coincidence or necessity. They become evil by necessity in order to harness the power, they must be evil, yet in being evil they wish only to harness the power.

 

The young sith who kills a defenseless beggar, has only exercised practice and control of the power he wields. The moment the so called sith kills any being of obvious lesser might, they are simply demonstrating their power. They are allowing it to make their decisions, by tempting them to show it off. The power controls them and, they yield to small baser passions. Assuming that might makes right and that they should take what they want. They are below even the animals in the jungle for they only kill for food. These beings are evil yes, but not because they choose to be. They simply can not help themselves. They are like an addict to spice. They fail to dominate, to move past learning some special power they believe to be the ultimate game changer. They rely on that power for subsistence, be it ego boost or otherwise and are slaves to it.

 

Even he had thought he was controlled by greed. It was a greed to know and gain knowledge, not the greed of money. Yet it was the money that had perhaps allowed him to transcend the evil of the sith. He was an evil born of an enemy of God. He was one who took something as priceless and as worthless as money, and used it to measure a life. He took the greatest of gifts God or some force had placed upon the universe and had added an arbitrary value to it simply for his own pleasure. He took life, not for the thrill, but as a war against the very nature of life. Yet he did it willingly. He eagerly took these jobs, assigning money and trinkets to the wonder that was life. The issue was that in doing so, he was perverting the one thing that made a civilized galaxy. Religion held no meaning to him, power held no meaning to him. All that held meaning was his instruments of death and his knowledge of how to kill.

 

Was his body in pain? Perhaps, the hunter cared little for such distractions. All the hunter wanted was to watch prey die. All beings were prey for the right price. These had the unfortunate price of being free. It was rare that their lives were below the scale of worth imposed by the weak in the civilized galaxy. Money after all was the true source of power, and yet it was utterly worthless. It was the reason he had horded money, for all it was, was the score for him. He was an equalizer. He gave those who have the power of money and, transforms that power into power unrestrained. He put a price on life due to his abhorrence of nature. He takes the credits and in return, he takes a life. He gives value to money and he gives lives a monetary value.

 

There was a being who hated man. This being spent his time whispering in the ears of man. It whispered and convinced man to do horrible and terrible things. Some say it was because this being resided in a place called hell. That this hell was the destination for those that were wicked, and in his loneliness and hatred, sought to bring man there with him. That being however, was currently facing down two men. One with the powers of a God, the other still a fledging seeking the same power. Yet he had killed and corrupted demi-gods before. He would kill these two and then the female. He would savor the death as only a predator devouring his prey could.

 

He was an entity that gave life to twisted values. He was the being that turned other men into monsters by putting a price on life. He was a force that made men lie awake at night knowing he is completing their will, not to show he is the best, but to take from them something that they worked in some way to get. He brought understanding to men that they are mortal, and that their lives are cheap, as for the right price they can be killed by him. His actions change the morals of men, not by using the Force and bending them to his will, but instead by allowing them to use their more baser natures. He took lives not for his pleasure but for the pleasure and desire of someone else. He would take these lives for that reason. He was hired to kill the female. The predator knew this. Yet the more dead the merrier, as it would all lay on the head of who had hired him. The one who had unleashed him upon the unsuspecting would be to blame. Those before him were prey; their response was that of prey. He was the predator. He would devour them. He knew of the gadgets he had. They were his ”˜talons'. His prey had talons too. One was powerful with that dreadful Force. Yet so was he. The other had long sharp ”˜talons' their reach was incredible. He moved.

 

As his armor collided against the wall, as he hid behind the wounded female for cover, as his mind was subdued by the horrors unleashed upon it, the predator moved. One moment he was rolling, having landed next to the female. The next moment he was between the two men attempting to kill him. He was in pain. This he knew. Yet the pain fueled his desire for their blood. They had wounded him, he wanted them dead. He had used the jetpack to fly over the shots of the armored one. The shots were fast, some racked him, none incapacitated him. Instead razor-flechettes tore into his arm. The hunter had known that the arm was more dead than alive. He had sacrificed it further during his rampage in order to protect the body. Nothing would be allowed to stop him. Arms outstretched the monster Slicer had become dropped the cyan lightsaber dropped by reflex during the flight to escape the needles. The razor-flechettes stole from him briefly the ability to grasp it. Delta faced the familiar red glow of the flame thrower being activated to douse him in flames. Yet the Sith who had ripped his mind asunder, would soon take a dirt nap as four darts one right after the other, all launched from the hidden launcher in his other hand. His feet had barely touched the ground before each attack was launched simultaneously.

A primal scream erupted from him, not out of hunger, but of pain. He was in pain, so much pain. Yet the torment of the bounty hunter had finished. Detached as it was from his current actions, the last waves of horror at last ebbed from him. It seemed the assault was finished, or perhaps it was interrupted. Yet could he regain control? That he did not know. Yet Slicer knew he had to reign in the monster, as who knew what destruction it would unleash? The dark side was all about survival. It's was about unleashing your inner power. It glorified the strength of the individual. He had at long last surrendered to it. No longer did he bend it to his will and this more than anything terrified him.

 

<>