Carida

[darth shadowlord]

Blast Jedi? Wait that is a Jedi. Draken reached out with the force and tapped him on the shoulder. "Leaving so soon Jedi. Surely you didn't think I would fail to notice your lightsider aura. You are not leaving yet. I believe that we have a bit of business to attend to. After all you shot at me first."

 

He removed his saber from his cloak and ignited it. He saluted Scorp and prepared himself for the battle. He began to circle the Jedi at first as he sized him up. He feinted towards Scorp and was rewarded with a shift in his stance. He smiled. This should be interesting.

 

He attacked with a flourish, each blow landing with perfect balance. However each of his attacks were turned back by this Jedi. As he fought, he remembered his last duel and realized he wasnt about to repeat that here.

 

So he cleared his mind and drew the force to himself. He began to move move gracefully as the Force filled his body. He feinted to the left and as the Jedi moved to counter it, he moved right and sliced a burning line across the front of Scorp's right leg. He drew back and raised his guard again, waiting.

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

((Hey it is a good idea to number your posts. Like your next post you should put a 2 at the bottom or something.))

 

Scorp allowed his displeasure for falling for such a feint consume him and then just as quick he let it go. He figured that this battle could use a change of pace mainly because of the disadvantages he was forced to deal with.

 

Quickly back flipping away from his opponent he landed in a cat stance and then in one swift movement removed his backpack and set it upon the ground.

 

"I shot you first? I don't recall shooting at you. Unless you are the fellow who blasted apart my X-wing, if that is so than we do indeed have business to discuss."

 

Scorp listened to the sound of the other end of his lightsaber activating and allowing a bright cyan blade to emerge from the hilt.

 

That makes two now lets see how well he handles them.

 

Summoning the force he could feel it's power flow through him, it was almost a calming effect, it allowed for a brief time to forget about the pain in his leg. Moving the pain to the back of his mind he gave his lightsaber a twirl before suddenly launching forward at Draken. Giving his double bladed lightsaber a twirl while in motion he suddenly launched himself into the air as he came within striking distance of Draken, landing behind the man he then threw himself toward the wall on the right.

 

with the force as his ally the wall seemed to almost bend at his weight almost as if it was some sort of giant trampoline. As he pushed off from the wall, he kept his lightsaber parallel to his body as he then landed on the left of Draken.

 

Moving as if he was a whirlwind of lightsaber and flesh, never striking only seeking to confuse and confound his opponent.

Slowly he could feel his battle mind return to him until it snapped in place with a suddenly clear focus. As Draken made a move to slice him in two, Scorp flipped over the blade and landed infront of the man, with a single stroke a bright red line appeared on Draken chest, the only thing that had saved Draken from a mortally wounding blow was the fact that Scorp had struck while regaining his own balance. Before Draken could register the fact that he had nearly been sliced into two pieces and the only thing he had to show for it was a gash across his chest, Scorp added insult to injury by placing a powerful side kick directly on the man's injury and forcing the two combatants to separate for a time.

 

Jumping backwards again he made a small gesture that a lot of the time offended and even enraged a lot of the sentient people in the galaxy then gave his lightsaber a little twirl in order to taunt his enemy.

 

"Come little Sith I have much more to show you."

 

Raising his saber in a guard like position, he slipped into another cat stance in order to better counter strike his enemy.

 

((1))

[Exodus]

Satisfaction in its rawest form; It was almost laughable how this beast abided by the dullest restrictions of the past. Even still, Exodus stood firm, inspecting the kneeling creature before him with utter distaste. The way he spoke of the Master of Shadows was a bit peculiar, but of course this creature was something of ancient times and in such a period, the Dark Lord of the Sith was continually mentioned as such.

 

Fastening his ominous intricate cloak to the patterned Brassard that remained strapped to his shoulder, Exodus lowered its hood. The thought of training this ill-advised, yet potential turncoat in the ways of Darkness crossed his mind. He moved forward ”“ blackened aura fulfilling his every step, once he was in a respectable range, he spoke with a most concave tone of voice.

 

”œ”¦You're ugly.”

[Snowtropper]

Barrek watched the Rebels flee, it's over already? he thought. He had expected the Rebels to put up much more of a fight, this fight had been disasterous for the Rebels. Do they wan't to be killed, Barrek then began to bring the rest of the imperial troops in to help mop up the Jedi still left on the planet.

 

 

(OOC:Sorry for the short post but there's nothing really else to say)

[Enigmatic]

Parts of his ribcage were beginning to wear and snap as Nom continously pounded against his chest. It left him wounded, but it wasn't enough to end the fight so quickly. Revan's breathing became intense, as if his air circulation was cut off. He could feel his ribs dangle inside of him, slamming against vital organs as he moved around. He winced here and there, but showed very little emotion besides anger.

 

"Sometimes you have to take a hit....to give one..."

 

The sith continued to slam weak, but fast attacks upon the Jedi, trying every way possible to wear him down. The only advantage that he had was that Nom was of an older age. However, that was taking little effect in this duel. It seems the emotion was driving both of them at an equal level. Parry after parry, Revan felt as though he was getting no where, which only heightened his driving anger that raged inside of him like a disease. It was a constant flow of hatred, making his decisions, and most of all thinking for him.

 

As if bound to happen, their sabers locked. The two colors intertwined with eachother, creating a various mix of green and crimson. The colors washed onto their faces as they glared into eachother's eyes, each exhausted with the pressure of death and shame. Sweat moved down Revan's face as he continued to apply pressure onto his saber, pressing against's Noms.

 

Although Revan figured he had the upper hand, Nom took the first attack once again. His knee soon slammed against Revan's wounded ribcage once more, sending the cracked and broken ribs swirling inside of his gut. They pierced his sides, sending a wave of excruciating pain throughout his body. As he kept his strength into his arms, pressing against Nom's saber, he watched as the Jedi Master prepared for yet another attack.

 

Gritting his teeth, he watched as Nom's knee was sent towards his chest once more. This time however, if connected, would puncture his ribs so badly, he would not be able to stand. Taking immediate defensive maneuvers, He used all his strength to push the saber to the side. He then spun around the knee, sendnig his lightsaber hilt against the side of Nom, colliding into his kidney. He watched as drips of blood sprung from the Jedi's mouth from the collision.

 

Having yet another open spot for an attack as Nom curled to ease his side, he slammed his elbow into the Jedi's mouth, splitting his lips against his teeth as his head cocked back. Using his anger, he drove his lightsaber upwards towards the Jedi's neck, expecting to decapitate him with one blow.

 

((2))

[darth shadowlord]

Draken only grinned as Scorp gestured toward him. "Much more to show me? Odd I was about to say the same thing to you." He jumped to his feet and looked down at his chest. Again his shirt had been cut.

 

"Why do you Jedi always seem to cut my shirts. This was one of the better ones that I had too." He brought up his saber again and looked at Scorps double sided lightsaber, as an idea came into his mind. As he had learned from the holocrom. He feinted again, but this time only with the saber.

 

As Scorp's saber came down, Draken twitched his wrist slightly and the saber blade slashed across. The red blade bit into Scorp's lightsaber hilt just below the second blade. The top part of the two hilts slid off and fell to the ground leaving one end of Scorp's dual ended lightsaber usless.

 

"Hmm, Now we might be even. At least your not like the other Jedi and mentioning how there is light inside of me. That can get extremely annoying and cause a person to get angry and let their anger control them in a fight, which is a bad thing."

 

He drew the force closer to himself and allowed it to show him where to move to avoid attacks as he began to slip and slid out of the way of attacks. He saw an attack coming to the left and rather then sliding out of it, slid into it and turned his body so that it slid down past him.

 

As the attack slid past Draken, he kicked Scorp and knocked him off balance. Scorp stumbled to the side and as he did, Draken's saber flashed red as it bit into the tendons in the back of his left leg, cutting deep into the tendons and severing most of them. Making it harder for Scorp to move.

 

"Now what were you saying? Oh wait wasn't it about having more to show me? Hmm, well I haven't seen much."

 

((2))

[Moric Thian]

((1))

 

A beautiful silver streak of pure serene energy shot forth into the empy clearing. The effect would draw in any eye dazziling with its near perfect glow, cascading its brillants into the forest and the grass around the two Force users. Suddenly, the pillar of light itself stopped streaking into the air and halted as if hitting an invisible wall, creating a very smooth and precise blade. The lightsaber was one of the most beautiful and tranquil weapons in the galaxy. Yet its effects are anything but that. The ironies found in even the simplist things seemed to keep the world on its heels. To add yet again to the lrony, was the man wielding it.

 

Moric Thian was not of the light unlike the man before him. Nor was he lost in the shadow contrary to the rest of the Sith around him. He was a carefully crafted being of nautrality trained to use the Dark Side as a tool, but no more. He called apon it only when he needed its aid and let it go just as easy. This particular action would be tough for anyone to manage, yet through extensive training, Moric was able to harnis the dark side without loosing all sense of self. He was a killing machine with compassion, a fighter with heart, a human with a soul. He was a Serepent Lord.

 

Yet he stood before his target primed for battle. Not because killing thrilled him. Fighting for no reason was only a waste of time. He was acclerating his skills through the art of physical conditioning and mental stability. DJK would act as a perfect test for his pudding abilites. A Jedi Master would no doubt provide the opponent he needed to succesfully improve himself.

 

With that thought in mind, Moric sprang forward lofting his lightsaber into the air as he went. A silver arch followed hom almost stretching for meters. This alone was almost a testament to his speed. And just like that, the Serpent Lord was within striking distance. Yet he instead of lashing out, he leaped into the air. Letting the wind as well as the Force he carry him, he landed directly behind the Jedi Master. As if brought on in the same fluid motion, Moric stuck his blade out into a horizontal stab aimed at the center of the Jedi's back.

[Nom Anor's avenger]

((3))

 

 

The pain that accompanied Revan's attacks seemed to act as an alarm system. That particular feeling coupled with the Force almost seemed to direct Nom's movements on its own accord. The small of Nom's back started to bend, sending him into a backwards dodge leaving his torso almost completely parallel with the ground below. The evasive maneuver itself acted satisfactory enough as Revan's blade passed above him. Unfortunately, his momentum carried him to the floor anyway. The Jedi Master used his hands to push off from the ground creating a makeshift catapult. He converted his momentum into a backwards roll and landed on his feet several meters away from his former padawan.

 

His side was slightly sore from the contact and blood still seemed to be swishing around in his mouth. He empted the contents of his jaw with a rather massive spit, littering the lush grass with his rather pungent fluids. Soon after, Revan was on the attack again, his saber flooding the sunlit clearing with a beautiful red light. The Jedi Master proceeded to parry and dodge the attacks as his apprentice drove him backwards. The attacks themselves were becoming fiercer as Revan's anger continued to mount. Nom could not sit back parry forever.

 

With an unexpected surge of power, the jade lightsaber smashed against the crimson, sending both backwards due to a rather vicious recoil. Using the attack of opportunity, Nom went on the offensive keeping his blade centered in front of him. His strikes at first were light and quick but then escalated into vicious assaults powered by the Force as well as keen serenity and intensity focused mind on the task before him.

 

Each strike seemed to slam into his opponent's blade with the force of a freight train. His ability to continue smashing forward was entirely possible considering the effort the Jedi Master made to conserve energy earlier in the fight. All the energy and power Nom conserved seem to roar with might as each strike connected. Revan, having made no such effort to save energy seemed to barely make each parry.

 

With one last swift stroke, Nom unleashed his power to the fullest. He channeled almost all his energy into one final slash aimed at the man's midsection. Blade met blade, yet one could not stand against the power of the first. The pillar of crimson light was blasted from its owner's hands and sent sprawling into the forest bordering the clearing. The trees and bushes seemed to sparkle in blood as the blade itself washed its contents onto its surrounds. As it hit the ground, it deactivated leaving its location slightly hidden from the naked eye.

 

Nom's lightsaber remained unmoving only inches away from its target's heart. His facial expression was hard, as if carved from stone despite the sweat streaking down his face. "You are beaten my young apprentice."

Edited June 23, 2006 by Guest

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

Scorp stumbled backwards as he felt the bite of a lightsaber entering his leg. Gritting his teeth. He quickly back flipped away from the engagement. Summoning the force he called his bag to his hand and without a thought sprinted up the hall toward the hanger.

 

Taking a sharp turn left he came to a stop suddenly and looked in his bag. He figured that one more stop before the hanger might do the trick. So he quietly slipped into a storage room. He had no doubt that the Sith would be hot on his heels so he quickly looked around and finding a suitable place made his bag slightly lighter before stashing his bag in another area some what near his exit.

 

Taking a quick look around the room he noticed the supporting pillars as well as the large number of barrels and other things just lying around. Smiling as and idea came to him his thought was cut short as the Sith barged into the room.

 

I am getting some what tired of this Sith. He keeps aiming for my legs. A very very very annoying thing to do.

 

Rasing his saber he was reminded how the Sith had damaged it to a degree. Switching his hand grip on his saber he launched himself toward the Sith. Attacking in a flurry he made obvious attacks designed to simply lure the Sith deeper into the room. Suddenly Scorp broke off from the attack.

 

"It would be a waste of breath to try and turn you. You are far too full of yourself for such an unimportant person."

 

Bring a smile to his lips Scorp allowed the force to flow through him to increase his speed to a degree. For the passing observer it would have seemed as if he had simply become a crazed man, never attacking Draken but instead slicing through nearby pillars and the floor. As Scorp slowly advanced in his strange unpredictable swinging pattern he suddenly slipped inside of Draken's guard, a combination of the force along with Scorp's own physical strength is what caused the very loud yet slightly muffled cracking sound that resulted from Scorp's fist connecting with Draken's ribs. As Draken felt his own rib cage break inside of him Scorp back flipped from the wounded man and landed near the door that he had come in from.

 

With a single wave of his hand, Scorp allowed for his trap to finally fall into place, with a loud rumble the support pillars and ceiling began to collapse upon Draken. Due to the fact that Scorp had sliced through the pillars only moments before and the only thing that had been keeping them in place was Scorp's own command of the force. As soon as the dust settled Scorp looked upon the mess he had made. Draken was quite buried in the debris. Scorp shook his head as he spied the man's lightsaber sticking some what out of the debris. Calling it to his hand, he quickly picked up his bag and then looked back at the pile that contained Draken.

 

"If you lived through that, I pity you."

 

Though I doubt he did. He would have had no time to construct any kind of defense. After all I did break his rib cage. He would have still been gasping for breath by the time I brought the place down around him. Perhaps a master could have done so but masters have a hard enough time stopping such things from crushing them when their ribs are intact.

 

Taking a moment to heal himself, Scorp figured now that his way was clear to the hanger it would be in his behoove him to quickly get there before more Sith or imperials showed up. With all the noise he made he would be surprised that it did not catch anyone's attention.

 

Clipping the Sith's saber upon his belt and keeping his own out, he deactivated his blade then

Dashed away from the scene. After a time he slowed himself so that he could approach the hanger in a more stealth like manner. Summoning the force around him he allowed for his own force signature to blink out of existence and reappear slightly weaker on a cleaning droid. While it would be a difficult charade to maintain if the Sith was still gunning for him he would at least go for the cleaning droid first allowing more time for Scorp to make his escape.

((2))

[Scottie]

Ekim had finally reached his Master when he noticed he was in a heated duel with what looked like a Jedi. He didnt want to interfere so he walked away and helped the Sith against the rebel troops. Ekim pulled out his lightsaber and activated it. A black light shown from the silver hilt as a trooper was coming up to blast him in his leg. He quickly jumped up to avoid the shot and then ran to the trooper. Ekim jumped off his foot and sliced off the troopers head. He quickly fell to the ground. Then Ekim twirled his saber around a bit to get a better feel for the weapon.

 

Then a storm of rebel troopers had started to run upfrom a distance. When they finally got close enough to blast at a close enough distance, Ekim started parrying them with his lightsaber. Some blasts recoiled back hitting some troopers in their legs stopping them in their track. Then Ekim finished the ones who could not move with a verticul swings and horizontal swings which had cut them in half. Ekim could hear the loud yells of the troopers as they fell to their death. Ekim had enjoyed the feeling of killing. He really didnt as a Jedi but now the Dark Side fueled him to enjoy it. He really liked this new feeling. The Jedi ways would never make him feel as powerful as he did now.

 

Just then a few more squadrons of rebel troops had moved in once again trying to attack the Sith. Ekim let the Force as well as his anger to help guide him with his next attack that would hopefully kill at least one squadron of troops. Ekim had put up his arms as he pushed with significant force to knock down the first row of the squadron. Then he took his saber and went back to using lightsaber tactics.

 

Just then a trooper from in the back of the squadron hit Ekim in the arm. But this hardly fazed him. He was so intune with the Dark Side of the Force that the pain helped fuel him more in his rage against this squadron. Blood was splattered everywhere. It was all over Ekim's face from the force of his attacks through the blood upon him. He had taken out the first new squadron. Now another one is arriving.

[Lord Asshat]

((Sorry Ekim. This is my mission.))

 

Achzet felt a conflict occuring nearby. He felt a great struggle between a familiar Jedi and a familiar Sith. The two were in a fantastic duel to the death. The hissing and crackles of sabers could be heard in the distance. He followed the beings' force signatures and discovered the conflict.

 

Achzet studied the two's attack and defend motions. He looked to the side and noticed a young apprentice completely destroying troops with his saber.

 

He is fairly good for being that young.

 

Achzet watched him take down his combatants continuously. A thought struck his mind.

 

He is the man Slicer wanted me to take down. He will die now.

 

Achzet rushed over to the man, while cutting down as many soldiers that had managed to get in his way. Achzet lept into the air and pounced. He brought his legs down on the man and slammed him face first into the ground. He heard a few of his ribs crackle as he was slammed by the five hundred pound metallic machine.

 

"Time to die!"

 

Achzet got all of his gadgets in his suit ready for attack, if they were needed.

[Scottie]

Ekim could not believe what had happened. One minute he was killing Rebels to help the sith out in this battle on Cardia. Then the next thing he knew he was on the ground with a fellow Sith on top of him trying to kill him. Ekim thought he was doing good for the Sith. All Ekim got was acouple of broken ribs from a Sth who was supposed to be on his side. This enraged Ekim into a rage he could hardly control. He let the Dark Side of the Force completly control him. He had felt immense power underneath the being. He looked up to view who was responsible for this. He couldnt believe his eyes the man was Lord Achzet. This man was his old Master as a Jedi. Ekim could not believe what was happening.

 

"Why are you doing this Achzet? I am helping the Sith then all of a sudden you come and attack me from no where? Dont you have any respect for other Sith who are trying to do there part in aiding the Empire? No. Because you would not have attacked me. I was on the verge of killing a few squadrons. But I guess now I will have to kill you"

 

Ekim used the Force to null the pain he endured almost completely so he could get up. His lightsaber had fallen so he had used the Force to pick it up. He activated it and then readied himself in defense mode so he could try and parry lightsaber attacks.

 

"Lets go old friend."

 

((Three post duel. modded. You may post first))

[darth shadowlord]

Draken lay gasping for air, as shooting pain shot through his chest where Scorp had broken his ribs. The dust clouded around his head and body making it all the harder to breath. After the dust had settled, he took stock of his situation.

 

He was lying under the support pillars of the room that he had been fighting in. He found though to his great suprise, that the way the pillars had fallen, the pillars had formed a seven foot space around his body. There was a small space near his head where fresh air was coming through.

 

After a inspection, he found out that he would just be able to fit through the space. He began to pull his body forward, wedging it through the tigh gap. After about ten minutes, he pulled his body through the gap and slowly stood to his feet.

 

Draken began to check his body over to see what was not injured. He found a gash in the side of his head, at least four ribs were broken or cracked. He soon found that he had sprained his ankle as well and his saber was also missing.

 

He reached out with the force and searched for his saber. He knew what to look for as each of the crystals had been forged from his pain and had a small portion of himself in them. He searched for a short time before he located the saber. He found that it seemed to be heading for the hanger bay.

 

He quickly began to hobble over to the hanger, reaching it in a short time as he began to harness the pain into a way to harness the force. He ignored the Jedi's force signature, following instead his saber's signature. He stepped into the Hanger bay and saw a glint of a black cylinder as a man tried to move in the shadows.

 

Draken reached out grasped his saber. He ripped it from Scorps belt and back to his hand. As it arced through the air, he ignited it for a moment, cutting a cable that held one side of a large metal cylinder. The cylinder, freed of one restraint, swung down on the other side of the cable slamming into the man that held his saber and slamming him against the wall.

 

A loud crack was heard as the man slammed into the wall. At the same time, Draken's saber fell back into his hand. He ignited it and looked at the man, who had fallen to the floor. "The movement of the force signature was good and would have fooled me but you had my saber, which has my own force signature on it. That was what gave you away."

 

He looked at Scorp once more. "I grow tired of this." He leapt into the air and made like to attack Scorp from midair. He saw Scorp's saber ignite and raise to block him. He smiled and dropped down a short distance away from Scorp. He looked at his opponents saber then attacked. He perfect style and form coming forth in what would be the final skirmish as he allowed Makashi take the forefront of his mind and guide his saber.

 

Quick, effortless, percision attacks were rained upon Scorp, falling on his defense, weaking his opponents stance. Finally Draken slipped an attack through, a quick cut that cut deep into the left side of Scorps chest. The saber bit deep into Scorps lung and ribs.

 

As Draken dropped back, making it look like he was done, he launched one final attack. He flung a dagger, which had been sheathed in his left sleeve into the right side of Scorp's chest piercing deep and rewarding Draken's attack with a flow of blood. Draken raised his saber one last time in defense.

 

((3 Good Luck and well fought))

[Kakuto Ryu]

Kakuto came out of hyperspace aboard the Eternal Torment, followed soon by the remainder of the fleet. He stood on a deck with with a transparasteel hall, watching the Dauntless from his convenient vantage point. Ships cycled through the wrecked capital ship from the ground, disassembling it piece by piece and capturing any crew members they found in the process. The shell of the ship looked as though it was nearly half stripped.

 

He spoke quietly as Dagon approached his side, not turning his head.

 

"You had something you wanted to ask of me?"

[Dagon]

I have heard that you possess the power to control the dead, I was wondering if I could learn that power.

[Kakuto Ryu]

"As you wish, Lord Dagon."

 

Kakuto turned slowly, ungloving his flesh hand. His arm rose up slowly, touching his fingers to Dagon's temple. The Sorcerer's eyes glazed over as his sight was drowned out in a flash of light. His thoughts dissapeared behind a loud cloud of mental noise, which slowly grew to stop his thoughts as it had his senses.

 

Kakuto lowered his hand, turning back to see the front half of the Dauntless' frame detatched. Mental clarity came back to Dagon rapidly, followed closely by his sight.

 

"Give it a day or so. Your mind will take a while to decode the knowledge. My brain... It's changing slowly. My thoughts are backwards, twisted, irrational and strange. It is a defense mechanism, I think, to protect me from the infiltration of others. For you it just means that you have to untwist my thoughts before you can understand them..."

[Oblivion]

After having been removed from the mission rather quickly as the team promptly disassembled to depart for Cardia, the Sith Lord emerged out from the vessel with an obvious kink in his neck as he strode a few steps forward, favoring it with the side of his hand.

 

"Quite the manuver there, although I suppose the operation was still a success none the less."

 

The statement was more mumbled then anything, still bearing the fact that the tank's potential was not put to better use then as per their intention. As a Krath, such emotions were torn from the psyche, but never fully removed. He had developed to embrace other traits such as pride, will, and devotion while those frvilous and more temporary emotions became stagnant from proving anything beyond just that.

 

Folding his arms, the man exchanged glances towards either of them, while holding his own within the foreground of the conversation, watching the curious pratice of the mental exchange unfold before his eyes.

[Dagon]

Thank you, my Lord.

 

::With that, Dagon departed for the world of Mechis III. He had a task planned, but wanted to bring an apprentice to enlighten and act as a human shield.::

[DarkJedi K'munee]

((1))

 

Power always makes a cubic centimeter of chance available to a

warrior. The warrior's art is to be perennially fluid in order to

pluck it.

 

K'munee spun around in one fluid movement, activating the yellow blade of his lightsaber, blocking Moric's attack and parrying the blade low then high left. This maneuver brought the other man's saber up into a high guard. The follow up to the counter move was the butt of the hilt on DJK's lightsaber, being slammed into the forehead of his unsuspecting opponent.

 

The distinctive hum of DJK's lightsaber was suddenly silenced as Moric staggered backwards, his eyes squeezed shut as he winced at the pain of the blow to his skull. The Sith never dropped his guard. His silver blade sliced blindly through the air in an attempt to hold the Jedi master at bay.

 

DJK kept his lightsaber at the ready, even though he had turned it off, as was the practice of a Trakata master. Using a moment of uncertainty between the two of them, K'munee went on the offensive, charging the other man who had just realized what was about to happen. Moric angled his blade defensively in anticipation of whatever attack the Jedi master had in store for him.

 

K'munee allowed himself to come within killing distance of the lightsaber's blade, hoping that it wasn't dual-phased, his own saber still deactivated. The seasoned warrior was not reckless, though he was in full control of the situation, manipulating it to his will. Moric saw the seemingly defenseless Jedi closing the gap between them and brought his blade down, intending to slice open from left shoulder to right hip. Before the blade could meet the flesh it eagerly wished to cauterize, it flickered and dissolved into nothing.

 

DJK was watching the Sith's movements as he prepared his attack, waiting for him to change his grip for a slashing motion, which caused his thumb to move away from the emitter switch on the hilt of his lightsaber. A minor manipulation of the force to that button, simply turned the energy blade off. The momentum of the attack, combined with the lack of a blade to strike with, left the Sith off balance. DJK using the speed of his charge, slammed his shoulder into Moric, knocking the air from his chest. K'munee summoned the force into him, then channeled it into the palm of his hand, manifesting a powerful force push that caught the stunned Sith off guard.

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

Scorp painfully reached out and removed the dagger protruding from the right side of his chest. A small trickle of blood escaped his tightly shut teeth as a cough erupted from his damaged lung and ribcage. Gasping for breath his quickly locked away the pain and prepared for his own final assault.

 

So far he had been quite lucky. When the Sith had surprised him with that giant cable he had worried that the resounding crack might have meant a painful and very fire based end for him. However since he was still breathing and none of his bones had been broken in that attack it was safe to assume that it had been either a med or a food pack that had been damaged. It did however leave him with quite the headache something that would have to be put aside for now.

 

Swinging his backpack to the side and out of the fight, he quickly reviewed his options. It was very clear that he was dealing with an opponent with knowledge of form two. While it was indeed effective in this sort of fight, it would have been better used earlier in the fight. From what he knew of form two a Makashi user needed to be careful not to try and match an opponent power for power. Since Makashi users relied on timing and precision in both movement and blade manipulation, often wielding the blade one-handed, waiting for the opponent to tire for an easy victory.

However from what he could tell Draken's ability to do such precise moves would be greatly hampered by his broken ribs and from what he could tell sprained ankle.

 

That left Scorp with either the option of overpowering the Sith lord with a two handed style or to move far faster than his opponent a difficult thing to do since it allowed the user to attack and defend with minimal effort, letting the wield the blade one-handed for greater range of movement and fluidity most of the time. The form mainly relied on parries, thrusts, and small, precise cuts instead of the blocking and slashing of the other forms. It required very fluid movements of both the blade and the body.

So he would simply have to combine the best of both worlds.

 

Scorp sized up his opponent and then with a deep calming breath allowed the force to flow through him. Surround and empower him. Pain and emotion drained from his as his mind became clear and concise. His one goal, his one reason for living, breathing, existing being to strike down his foe, a believer in evil and a pawn in the darkness that surrounded the galaxy in its iron grip.

 

He had a chance and it lied with the form he was most familiar with that of Ataru. Rasing his saber vertically to the left he let the force guide and aid his movements. Leaping toward Draken he attacked in a flurry of slashes relying on a combination of power, speed, and grace to drive the Sith Lord into the hanger and ever closer to Scorp's escape.

 

Attacking with wide, fast, and powerful swings, he leapt into the air and landed behind Draken, with a quick turn he resumed his attack, slowly becoming more and more reckless with his attacks, leaving his self open at times in order to strike, faster, swing harder and keep his opponent on the defensive.

 

To an observe looking at the battle it would have seemed as if a giant wall of cyan light had enveloped Draken, as Scorp attacked from all sides and angles, twisting and leaping striking low and high all for the chance at a killing blow. The force guided his movements, it aided his body and allowed all things to drop away, sound, emotion, pain, and desire all fell away until the only thing that defined the existence of Scorp was the clash and clang of a lightsaber falling upon another lightsaber.

 

He performed amazing feats of acrobatics, such as somersaults and back flips, not only for attack, but also to evade Draken's attacks and strikes while he existed in this state.

 

Moving at amazing speeds he rained strong blows jumping and attacking through the air. Powerful and lightning fast spinning attacks were utilized from all angles, from ground as well as air however, he never stayed in one place long enough for Draken to mount a proper counterattack. At one point when Draken made a move to block a blow the sheer kinetic power behind the blow forced the crimson blade down upon Draken's own shoulder.

 

Scorp knew on a higher level that this was a very very dangerous form to practice against Makashi, however Makashi was a dangerous form to practice against this. In a way they were equally matched. The two lightsaber forms each able to prey on the other one's weakness yet each one unable to defend when their weakness were threatened.

 

Suddenly the perfect strike was clear, it only took an instant, yet Scorp went in for it with the ferocity of a starving wolf closing in its prey.

As Draken took a swipe toward his legs, Scorp flipped over the sweeping red blade and landed upon the left of Draken. With a single slash, his lightsaber bit deep into the man's shoulder and continue in a blazing blue streak down the man's side and severing two ribs. Leaping back before Draken could Slice him into two he felt the need to repay the favor that Draken had left him with earlier; summoning the force for one more impressive feat, he waved his hands as if he was a conductor at a music hall. In a flash Scorp's cracked food pack shot from his pack and slammed into the man's temple, before the man could spin around however a storage box slammed into the back of the man's legs knocking him off his feet.

 

In the blink of an eye, Scorp had the point of his blade at the man's neck.

 

"It's over Sith!" he spat out, the sound of his voice awakening him from his battle mind as it boomed around the hanger. A few drops of blood splattered on Draken's face as Scorp stood over him with the killing blow only a single thrust or flick of the wrist away.

 

Why should I not kill him now? Why should I give him the chance to surrender?

 

Scorp felt pain all over his body, the he could barley breath, the aggressive nature of Ataru as well as his own wounds had indeed tired him. This would be a fight he would remember.

 

 

((3 good fight and good luck.))

[King Kheldar vos Correlli]

Brief ruling on Scorp vs. Draken- the winner: Scorp. Good fight gentlemen, and keep up the good posting.

[Moric Thian]

((2))

 

 

Moric could only watch as the invisible attack wave slammed into him knocking his wind out immediately. The Serpent lord then proceeded to almost throw himself to the floor, selling the success of the Force push even more. He used the few seconds he had on the ground to regain his breath and composure. He staggered to his feet again, whipping the blood from his forehead. This was exactly the situation he wanted. The Jedi before him could fight and use his head in battle. A Serpent knew never to underestimate a Jedi Knight, a philosophy the Sith had yet to fully comprehend.

 

The two combatants didn't was time with idle words or threats. Blades clashed as yellow met silver. Moric's speed seemed to be the only thing keeping him alive as DJK's precise strokes and leveled intensity brought opportunity knocking. Well placed parries and dodges did nothing for Moric to gain the upper hand, only to keep the battle going for a few more precious seconds. DJK was clearly the superior fighter. Fortunately for the Serpent Lord, superior technique did not always win lightsaber duels.

 

Thinking quickly, Moric feinted to his left and swung his blade towards his opponent's right side. It was an incredibly predictable attack and DJK took it as such. He quickly parried and immediately countered towards Moric's now wide-open and off balanced left side. The yellow blade itself streaked towards the kill but was suddenly halted. Sparks of fire materialized as if from the very atmosphere itself. Spawning from the palm of the Serpent's hand came a pillar of fire ravaging its way to meet the lightsaber only inches away from splitting its target in two. Pyromancy; a gift given by the choas god Tzeentch. The ability to control fire in almost all its forms.

 

The yellow pillar of light continued to latch against pure and unmatched fire as it pressed against an advantage it once possessed. The blade of fire itself possessed the ability to hold even lightsaber at bay ((ask chad for verification)). Moric held the lock, letting the small spurts of cinders emitted from his new blade cause even greater confusion and chaos to the situation. His now free lightsaber lurched towards the Jedi Master, its brilliant arc continuing to lavish the night sky. The silver streak connected with the Jedi's arm already digging into flesh like a rabid dog possessed with blood lust. How deep the wound penetrated however, depended on DJK's ability to react and adapt.

[Bad karma]

A holo vid arrives for Exodus. Standing before him is an old friend clad in an enviro suit turned armor. The Trench coat that had been seen on him so many times before by Exodus was now a flowing black mass of shadows, silently floating in a phantom wind. His eyes glowed emerald, rather then the dull black he had taken on when serving Nurgle. Full of life, full of power.

 

"Darth Exodus...It has been a long time my friend. I was sitting here just today, thinking of how the Black Sun is calling in the Empire against me and how I could stack the deck in my favor even with them on their way...Your name popped into my mind almost instantly." A grin could be seen coming over his face, at least the part of his face that his helmet revealed. "If you've the time, would you assist me here on Coruscant in taking them down? Perhaps we can catch up a bit afterwards."

 

The frequency was left open, but the holo vid of Trowa disappeared. For him not to leave that up could only mean that he was in quite the hurry, but chose not to state it.

[DarkJedi K'munee]

((2))

 

A warrior acknowledges his pain but he doesn't indulge in it.

The mood of the warrior who enters into the unknown is not one of

sadness; on the contrary, he's joyful because he feels humbled by

his great fortune, confident that his spirit is impeccable, and

above all, fully aware of his efficiency. A warrior's joyfulness

comes from having accepted his fate, and from having truthfully

assessed what lies ahead of him.

 

Wrinkles formed on DJK's brow, along with multiple beads of sweat which leaked into his eyes, stinging them. He struggles against the manifestation of the flaming weapon used to block the blade of his lightsaber. The loosely hanging sleeves of his tunic, began to blacken as they caught fire. The fire began to spread up his forearm, inching its' way toward his biceps.

 

K'munee winced at the pain from the heat of the fire that threatened to envelope his arms. Suddenly, a warning from the force screamed out at him, drawing his attention to an unseen threat.

 

The flaming weapon used by Moric seemed to serve a dual purpose. The Jedi master was so consumed with the onset of this strange tactic used by the Sith that he allowed himself to loose sight of the primary threat....the Sith's lightsaber.

 

The silver blade of a lightsaber connected first with the burning material on the sleeve of his tunic, then into the tender flesh that was skin and muscle. DJK changed his grip on his lightsaber, pushing the flaming weapon down and away from himself. He turned his body into the arc of the slash threatening to severe his arm from his torso and launched himself into a horizontal spin. Adding the force to that spin for speed and distance, the Jedi extinguishes the flames on his tunic and lands crouched with one knee on the ground.

 

K'munee was holding his deactivated lightsaber in the hand of his injured arm, while instinctively clutching the wound to his bicep with his good hand. Steam and the smell of burnt clothing material, rose off the Jedi master. The pain he was feeling was intense, though he turned it inward. Rising to his feet, he tore the burned sleeve from his tunic over his injured arm and tied it over the wound. He tore the sleeve off the other arm, throwing it the ground. Both arms where exposed to the humid air on the battlefield, displaying the first and second degree burns he suffered from his cunning foe.

 

DJK's eyes narrowed, as he concentrated on the man a short distance across from him. Moric had already steadied himself defensively, probably expecting another force push. The effects of what the Jedi was doing was unclear, so the Sith advanced on him. With every step he took, the effects of what was happening to him became evident. Moric took five more steps. His hand went to his head as an unseen pressure built up behind his skull, bringing him to his knees. Moric began to dry heave, then vomit uncontrollably. K'munee maintained a safe distance while holding his influence heavily on the Sith.

[Moric Thian]

((3))

 

Vomit poured from the Serpent's mouth like a fountain drenched in chaos. His mind spun leaving any kind of coordination just out of reach. Moric could just make out his opponent standing a few meters away. He was there standing motionless, yet Moric could do nothing to strike at him. The situation itself seemed to mock him as he could do nothing but wraith upon the ground, his own brain lost in the Jedi Master's clutches. K'munee's blatant skill with the Force was surprising, something Moric should have foreseen.

 

The Jedi Master's attack was perfect. It was impossible to defend against with the lightsaber and even his gift of fire could not squelch the pain know rippling through his mind. His head seemed to have a heart beat of its own as it unleashed painful spurt after spurt through Moric's body, as if replacing the very blood in his veins. Any words he tried to speak seemed to be lost to the incoherent chaos now possessing him.

 

Through all the confusion and pain, anger began to surface. Having lost the ability even to control his own mind drove him into a primal almost feral fit of rage. The current attack unleashed by DJK reduced the Serpent to an almost animal like state of intelligence. Yet the Dark Side of the Force however, needed no more in order to work its magic. With an incomprehensible scream spawned by sheer rage, the Serpent Lord sent waves of fire all around him. It flowed through his hands like a title wave of destruction, seething its fury on the trees as well as the grass within a twenty meter radius.

 

Whatever concentration the Jedi Master seemed to possess was lost due to the makeshift hell surrounding him. Tendrils of flame licked their destructive chops on both combatants; yet Moric's immunity left him unscathed.

 

The effects of DJK's mind abduction were still present, yet diminishing with each passing moment. The Serpent Lord, still under its influence possessed a feral facade as well as almost an infused mind with the Dark Side, a terrible combination. Moric launched himself at his target, his lightsaber laying forgotten on the burning grass below. The wanted desire for blood only drove himself further. DJK, having not suspected such a defenseless attack coupled with the seething flames around him could do nothing to stop Moric from pouncing on his prey. The Serpent Lord shot his jaws towards his opponents throat, his ravenous jaw drawing blood as his teeth sunk deeper an deeper closing in on the jugular, and the kill.

 

((That was such a great duel, thanks for the opportunity. ))

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

A small tremor in the force quickly grew into a claxon bell ringing in his head as Draken made a final attempt to kill him.

 

I have no choice it is the will of the force.

 

It was brief two sabers shot forward, each one seeking the flesh of the other's owner, A startled gasp escaped Scorp's lips as the lightsaber grazed his side where his damaged ribs were, however Scorp's own thrust was straight and true. A strange sound escape the Sith as the cyan blade pierced through the neck and out of the spine. In that instant it was over. Evil had been vanquished and only good stood in its place.

 

Deactivating his saber he fell to his knees and with a giant up heave expelled blood and puke onto the highly polished floor, Straightening up he called his bag to his hand and removed the Sith's saber from the dead man.

 

" Such an eleagant tool crafted to be in the service of evil."

 

Tossing it into the air with a quick swipe, he sliced the black hilt in half making it useless.

 

Coughing up more blood he noted out of the corner of his eye stormtroopers coming up the hall.

 

"Time to make my escape. As well as stop talking to myself."

 

Picking up his pack he quickly slide into a shuttle and prepped it for launch.

 

"Before I leave I guess I should thank them for their hospitality though."

 

Reaching into his bag he removed the uncracked detonator. Had it been damaged in the battle he could have very easily met the same fate he was now about to bestow upon the unsuspecting imperials.

 

Pressing the detonator Scorp quickly flew out of the hanger in order to better see what damage he had done to the imperials.

 

From what he could tell, the damage done would leave a large dent in the imperial banks just to repair.

 

the imperial base once stood proud and true, a testament to the guardians of the Darkside that resided there. Now it was nothing more than shambles as multiple explosions rocked through the complex. A giant plume of flame blossomed from the instillation as each bomb went off completely destroying an area of 30 meters per bomb, from the hanger, to the turrets, to pretty much every thing Scorp had been able to slip into including an ammo depot, all of it went up in a raging ball of fiery destruction.

 

Admiring his complete and utter destruction of the imperial base at Cardia he wondered if perhaps he had used too many explosives.

 

"Naah it what they deserved after all."

 

Giving the shuttle a half spin he was happy to note that there were nothing to stop him. Nothing at all especially since he was in a legit shuttle craft. He could however still feel Jedi upon this world. He figured his best bet would be to stick around and pick up any remaining Jedi. Activating his comm. he sent a brief transmission to all Jedi on world to reach him on his comm. if they needed a ride. Then with that he flew up high into the atmosphere and disappeared. He would wait a while and if no jedi responded he would simply fly away.

 

hiding inside of the moon's shadow he knew he could wait out here.

 

 

"Now to take care of my injuries."

 

Settling himself into a meditative state he began the healing process.

[Exodus]

No answer, no emotion.

 

Expected silence filled the quickly illuminated chamber, only to leave it in complete darkness once more. Of course, within his calculative mind was buried an ancient honor that always shone through the darkest of darkness. History; an important aspect to Exodus' life, for it was what completed who he had become, and it just so happened that Trowa seized a great deal in par with his past. Friendship, if that is what they called it nowadays was first experienced through none other than Trowa himself.

 

The Phantom Assassin lay coolly against the solid wall, his ethereal eyes becoming the only source of luminosity within the buried chamber. Their moist texture soaked with intellectual capacity, staring into the shadows as if commanding their submission while he considered the situation at hand.

 

The Obsidian Brassard flexed fittingly as a breadth of cloak slowly wavered in an unrevealed wind, complimenting his shady demeanor as he broke idleness. He broke into an ever-so casual stride, intuition informing him of Jedi presences still nearby; nothing to be concerned about.

 

It finally hit him; it wasn't that he didn't notice it before, but the laughable fact that Trowa had called him in opposition to the support of an entire reinforcement fleet his enemy had called was irony firsthand. More importantly, the Sith Master itched with an urgency to spill blood, or quench the boredom that continually cast itself over him. This was a means to an end.

[Cineon Yahn]

An ill feeling fell on Cardia and instantly it was known that something was not right. There was of course a disturbance in the Force, but it wasn't a disturbance that felt wrong. It created a feeling of emptiness. He was back. His dreams had been dark, as they always were. His return was iminent and the world had not known him for far too long.

 

Darth Barabbas.

 

He was ruthless and believed in his own philosophy, not the Sith's. He was loyal to the Dark Lord, but he would do what he wanted. He was not particular to Jedi and Sith; he could find an enemy in anyone; he was not afraid to quarrel with a brother. A titular Serpent Lord as he did not devote himself to learning of the Dark Side and made lives miserable. He saw two new young Sith, in petty argument. One showed promise. The other was a bastard. He was feeble, week, careless, and disrespectful. A sorry excuse for a Sith.

 

The man from the dark side lifted his hands up and sent lightning across the field of battle, breaking both of them apart from a battle they were about to jump into. The one who was shocked of his brother attacking him was put at bay, as the scum Lord Barabbas sought was at his feet.

 

"The one they call Achzet..."

 

He activated his lightsaber that ignited with a blinding flash of light. "Time to die."

 

He lifted Achzet up by the throat using the Force. No matter how thought this feeble apprentice of his own skills, he could not break the strangle of a feared Sith Master. "If you want honor from the man who has shattered lifes of thousands... millions, you will not get on your kness and beg for mercy... you will submit and stand on your feet to accept your fate. What say you?"

 

The Sith threw Achzet to the ground, more then prepared to deflect any sort of futile counter attack.

((Now I am aware that Scottie challenged you to a modded duel, but it's been three days since his challenge you have not accepted. In light of this, Tarrian has given me permission to go forth with this attack.))

[Kakuto Ryu]

((OOC: Scorp... You're such a tool it's unbelievable. I'd respond to it, but I was already promised that that your last post would be nulled. If not, I'll just rebuild the thing with the same amount of effort that it took you to destroy it. So... Half a post to restore it? BTW, if anyone were to choose to make it a personal aspiration to violently dismember Scorp IC, that'd be grand.))

 

A wide grin spread across Kakuto's face as a new ship appeared from hyperspace. Sterling white like the Imperial Soldiers themselves, Kakuto Ryu's yet unnamed craft appeared in glorious precession.

 

"Oblivion..."

 

Kakuto called the Lord's name with a sort of unwelcome purr--a distinctly affectionate tone from a distinctly unaffectionate person.

 

"...Load our new tanks onto that ship that has just arrived. There will be a hangar suited specifically for their maintenance aboard; somewhere in the fin. Once you are done, search me out--I shouldn't be difficult to find."

 

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

 

The atrocities committed in the name of the Empire have, without a doubt, always been the most fantastic in the history of the Galaxy. Kakuto Ryu and his advisor Dagon, not to let a good record die, had implemented in secret a system by which the enemy humans would be recycled for the good of the empire. The nonhuman species that were captured were fortunate enough to be slaughtered before having to deal with the horrors the rest were soon to endure, because as always the Empire cared not to waste their resources on lesser beings such as Aliens.

 

The survivors of the Dauntless' deconstruction were quickly shuttled to the prisoner processing center on Carida, where they their duties aboard the republic vessels were quickly catalogued. The prisoners, who were stripped naked and shaved bald almost immediately, were shuffled into a rather epic single file line. It was motivated by Imperial Storm troopers, who'd shoot into crowds before bothering to tell a defiant captive to move where he was supposed to. First they were IDed individually, a number lasered directly onto the skin on their hands containing what little information the Imperials cared to gather from them.

 

What came after was a long wait in near pitch darkness, in line naked in the cold facility. The sound of their milling comrades couldn't, however, mask the horrible sound that came from the end of their road. In a series of identical operating rooms a procedure was preformed to each and every surviving crewmember. Thrown face down in a blood stained chair, each soon endured the pain of having a drill bore a large hole in the back of their skull, without even thought of anesthetic. One in Ten of the operations were botched right at this beginning by a malfunctioning droid, which often drilled too far and was forced to dispose of the body in what would amounted to a large pile in the corner, to be moved every hour or so.

 

In the hole was jammed a new device, and after being screwed into the skull it was activated to slowly "reprogrammed" the Rebels to be loyal to their Empire and its Dark Lord. From there those that didn't die of infection from the infrequently sterilized surgical tools or the severe dementia brought on by minds that didn't take to the device were sent on to the next step, where their minds were expanded upon with expertise enough to serve a purpose in the Imperial Navy. This happened when a thick fiber optic cable was inserted into the implant and the required knowledge was uploaded straight to their mind.

 

Only around 60% of the men who went into the processing center came out as useful servants of the empire. The rest had whatever implants they were given ripped out for reuse, then their bodies sent out to be processed and reused in the form of biofuels.

 

The first of these recycled lives were sent to the new Star Destroyer to take over for the handful of droids as its first real crew.

 

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

 

Kakuto personally oversaw the last of the military resources transferred from what was designated the most heavily damaged Imperial Star Destroyer in the previous battle, which was scheduled for disassembly and recycling. While he was still overjoyed about the completion of his Warship, he did find a touch of disappointment in the soldiers he was issued. The tried and true stormtrooper, while the staple of the empire, would not suit the Dark Lord's tastes. He would require specialist squads, if they were still around, and he'd demand that they be reinstated if they weren't.

 

Kakuto walked his way up to the holobridge, where he found his new technicians hard at work. The pale faces complemented the vagrant stare that penetrated their monitors. Their hands worked at their keyboards, though undoubtedly this was unnecessary given the fiber optic cable that fed to the computers from their minds was working at full capacity.

 

The Dark Lord smiled to see the fruits of the Empire's efforts, and from his high seat at the end of the vaulted bridge he stared at the space projected on all the walls. He leisurely contemplated what he would name his craft while he waited for Oblivion to make his appearance.

 

”œMaybe... The Penetrater...”

[Scorp Jedi Knight]

((Ha for starters it would take you four posts since when I blew it up it was my fourth post. Second I ran it by Tarrian and she said I had the go ahead. So I did it. Don't be mad because I had three bomb posts and then an explosion post.))

 

Scorp figured that enough time would be watse here. He would leave system call his own ship into pick him up and if by that time a Jedi had asked for assistance he would pop back into system and pick them up.

 

Turning his ship away from the moon he blasted into hyperspace.