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Kirlocca was focused upon the building and the swirling storm crafted by the dark side that he was unaware that his opponent was on the rooftop with him. The sense that crept down his spine was all the alert he had, and it came just slightly later than what he wanted, as his own reaction time seemed to be slower than what he anticipated. With what he felt, his own instincts were to leap into the air in a corkscrew motion to turn to face what he sensed. Mid-leap into the air, as he turned, the Force Lightning caught him barely upon right shoulder and sent him twirling a bit more than expected. The Wookiee landed on the ground in a roll and stood upon his left knee. As he came out of his roll he noticed that he lost his lightsaber in the roll, which was something he hadn't done in forever. 

 

Instinctively he reached out hi spaw and attempted to bring his lightsaber to him, which he could barely see through the Force, but then quickly realized that such a feat was not worth it until he had the time to fulfill the feat. Lifting his left paw, he could sense the other Force user through the Force and their location. It was glowing like a beacon before him. Without hesitation, he used Malacia upon Apothos. Once he knew it succeeded in reaching his opponent, Kirlocca then stood and used the Force to call his lightsaber back to him. He could sense within the Force that there was something else he should be worried about, but could get no such direction or direct feeling as of yet. Until it presented itself, Kirlocca could provide no such attention or worry to it.

 

For now, he had one threat to worry about. Using the time he had provided to himself, he quickly centered himself in Wru'torr and prepared for what would either be a quick or long battle. There was no need for any Force energy to be used yet, the Jedi Master used his giant legs to take quick and powerful strides towards Apothos and brought the blade in a downward motion, making the obvious attempt to disarm his opponent.

 

((Post 1 for Kirlocca.)) 

Evaded Force Lightning, used Malacia upon Apothos to throw him off and then centered himself in Wru'torr and charged. 

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Apothos cackled wildly as his lightning connected, if only just, sending the Jedi wookiee spinning in the air.

 

Then the Force pulsed around the Jedi, and Apothos' world turned on his head.

 

Nauseating, bowel churning vertigo threw Apothos back into his chair, retching and heaving, trickles of bile dribbling from his mouth and out from under the black cloth that covered his face.

 

He could barely think. This wasn't a power he was familiar with.

 

No time to ponder. The Jedi was coming. His saber was raised.

 

Protect...me!

 

As incapacitated as he was, the thought, born on the currents of his mechu-deru, carried none of the weight or iron will Apothos used to control machines. But his throne was his, a machine long subservient to him, and it only required a simple directive and the barest of pushes to be compelled to obey. Even as the thought became lines of code and protocol within the throne, it was backing away, metal legs scrambling as it weaved and bobbed away from the oncoming threat, barely dodging the first strike of the wookiee with its initial burst of speed. Even so, it would never outpace the Jedi.

 

Kill...HIM!

 

A moment of hate and fear cut through the debilitating nausea, not nearly enough to grasp the Force in any meaningful way, but enough to command another subservient machine.

 

The mechno-throne sprang into action, sprinting from where it lurked at the balcony's edge and leaping at the oncoming wookiee. Its clanging legs and the rising hum of its power capacitors fatally overcharging provided brief warning.

 

In that moment, Apothos' Walking Throne took a chance and turned, presenting its high, steel back to the oncoming blast, protecting its master with its own body.

 

If the blast happened as planned...it would still send the throne and the incapacitated Apothos tumbling across the icy balcony.

 

Summary: Apothos was disabled by the superior Force user's Malacia, and used the smallest touch of his Mechu-deru to command his throne to evade Kirlocca while his mechno-chair completed its overcharge and attempted to pounce at Kirlocca and explode.

 

Move ((2)) in duel between Kirlocca and Apothos

 

 

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Missiles, lasers, and solid shot poured from the Sith armada. Explosions ripped across the starfield, and shields lit up as the Sith vessels took the Rebel's return fire.

 

Jorus grimaced at what he saw. They'd underestimated the Rebel's forward ships, and the enemy's heavy armor punished the Sith's daring attack. At a glance, the Sith appeared completely outmatched and outnumbered.

 

Of course, looks could be deceiving. A series of encrypted burst transmissions reached his console, and his grimace faded as he saw their own strategy beginning to come together.

 

Let the rebels think themselves on the verge of victory.

 

It'd make the next part all the sweeter...

 

Taskforce Ensemble 1: Commanded by Krath Apothos

 

Fleet of the Strands Heavy Brawler Escort |Black Bracer|

Veteran

Task Force Experience: 3XP

Bulwark Mk II Black Bracer |25/35|

 

Fleet of the Strands Destroyer Group (Missiles) |Red Dusk|

Veteran

Task Force Experience: 3XP  

Captor Class heavy munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |0/1|

Captor Class heavy munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |9/9|

 

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Taskforce Ensemble 2: Commanded by Kahla

 

Sith Fleet Destroyer Group (Railgun) |Phantom's Spear|

Veteran

Harrower-Class Dreadnought Phantom's Spear |16/25|

 

Sith Fleet Artillery Battery (Gravity Crusher) |Eye of Sagittarius|

Veteran

Gladiator Star Destroyer Eye of Sagittarius |10/20|

Raider II Corvette HF-11302 |2/1|

Raider II Corvette HF-11303 |2/1|

 

Sith Fleet Precision Strike Carrier Group |Wings of Glory|

Veteran

Gladiator Star Destroyer Devout Cardinal |9/9|

Terminous Frigate Galvanized Spirit |0/2|

Terminous Frigate Crimson Crescent |3/3|

Raider II Corvette HF-11300 |2/1|

Raider II Corvette HF-11301 |2/1|

 

Taskforce Ensemble 3: Commanded by Darth Mavanger

 

Sith Fleet Destroyer Group (Missile) |Sith Resurgent|

Veteran

Task Force Experience: 2XP 

Harrower-Class Star Destroyer Krayt's Fury |10/23|

 

 

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The forces around the Ion Cannon Cruiser were eating missiles far faster than the initial estimates had implied. Raven looked to the Admirals but they kept their faces passive. Estimates looked good for the damage inflicted, and the heavy bombers and fighterbombers were conducting their fast restock from the Constantinople. This could turn out better than she expected. 

 

Taskforce Ensemble 1: Commanded by Raven Nasra

 

Rebel Alliance Fleet Command Flagship |Romanova|

KDY-Imperial II-Class Star Destroyer Misericordia |30/27|

Axial Weapon Upgrade

Pocket Dreadnought Upgrade

Advanced Sensor Upgrades

 

Rebel Alliance Precision Strike Carrier Group |Anastasia|

Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp) (Experienced Gained at Kuat III)

KDY Pelta-class Frigate Thessalonica |3/3|

KDY Pelta-class Frigate Adrianople |3/3|

RSD Paladin-class Corvette Thrace |2/1|

RSD Paladin-class Corvette Corinth |2/1|

SSC Quasar Fire-class Cruiser-Carrier Constantinople |9/9|

 

Royal Hapan Naval Heavy Brawler Escort |Zeeland|

Task Force Experience: Veteran (2xp) (Experience Gained at Fondor)

O/C-Battle dragon class Cruiser: Victoria |25/35|

 

Taskforce Ensemble 2: Commanded by Mythos Von Howlster

 

Imperial Knight Expeditionary Light Defensive Escort: Suppressing Fire |Phobos|

Task Force Experience: Veteran (3 xp) (Experience Gained at Corellia, Kuat III)

Star Galleon-Class Frigate Clermonte |3/3|

Vengeance-Class Frigate Chartres |3/3|

Interceptor-Class Frigate Francorum |0/0| (Took one bomber damage per attack each then rest of Artillery Strike)

Consular-Class Frigate Tancred |3/3|

Sphyrna-Class Corvette Guiscard |2/1|

Sphyrna-Class Corvette Dorylaeum |2/1|

Paladin-Class Corvette Yağısıyan |2/1|

Free Virgilla-Class Corvette Alexandretta |2/1|

 

Rebel Alliance Asset Denial Force [Surgical Strike] |Grek| 

Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp) (Experience Gained at Kuat II)

Victory I-class Medium Cruiser Adun-Judith |9/9|

MC-30c Frigate Adun-Lilianna |0/3|

MC-30c Frigate Adun-Arianna |0/0|

RSD Paladin-class Corvette Belladonna |0/0|

RSD Paladin-class Corvette Foudroyant |2/1|

 

Rebel Alliance Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] |Forn| (Experience Gained at Kuat II)

Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp)

Bothan Assault Cruiser Kothlos |9/9|

Bothan Assault Cruiser RedRennic |9/9|

 

Taskforce Ensemble 3: Commanded by Mandalore the Bloody

 

Mandalorian Neo-Crusader Destroyer Group [Missiles] |Bes'bev|

Task Force Experience:  Veteran (2xp) (Experience Gained at Fondor)

IPM Neo-Kandosii-class Battleship: Nat’ah |22/25|

 

Mandalorian Neo-Crusader Destroyer Group [Railguns] |Akalenedat|

Task Force Experience:  Veteran (2xp)  (Experience Gained at Fondor)

IPM Neo-Kandosii-class Battleship: Xaakzaamheid |19/25|

 

Mandalorian Neo-Crusader Heavy Brawler Escort |Chayaikir|

Task Force Experience:  Veteran (2xp) (Experience transferred from removed TF)

IPM Neo-Kandosii-class Battleship: Oosterwijk |19/35|

Raven_Sig.png

Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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Even for the furred Shistavanen, the immense cold he had forlorned into Sent immediate shivers down his spine and attacked the circulation of his boiling blood as their blades interlocked. Mythos hates the Sith and their magicks, despised them with all his heart, and in this moment, he was reminded why. Though he disliked the Jedi, theirs was useful. But these Sith only cared for themselves and their glory, cowards compared to the Mandalorians he had faced. There was no competition when you held an unfair advantage. Being driven back and forced to drop his freezing blade as his opponent retreated, Mythos wiped the frozen moisture that attempted to blind his sight. This was enough. He had had enough. 

 

Reaching into his coat again, he flung forward another grenade, this one a flash grenade meant to obscure the field of sight with a bright blinding light so he traverse the field of battle and end this once and for all. Lunging forward on all fours once again as the flash grenade exploded in the air above him, Mythos adverted his eyes. But this move was not without it's cost, the Cyromancer Inmortos capable of raising not only the dead, but the ice as well as the spikes began darting up from the earth beneath his form rapidly and forcing the Shistavanen to panic in the moment.

 

From the ominous flickering of the well lit area, Mythos emerged, bloodied and slower as cuts littered his form and blood mixed with ice. Some gashes were deep and beyond his healing capabilities, but some like the others before them would take time to close completely. But like any wild beast, Mythos was on a path of survival, driven by instincts and malevolence, and would not be denied his prey. He would emerge the victor and end this occupation of Mon Cal even if it ended his life. The citizens would know their freedom again. He would make sure of this.

 

As the flash grenade began to lower and dim, Mythos' would reemerge visibly as claws and gaping maw would be inches away from the form Inmortos, intent on devouring the Sith with extreme prejudice.

 

((2))

 

Actions: Mythos' vision and blade began freezing due to Inmortos' Still blade and use of Darkness Reigns. In anticipation of Inmortos' Glare of Cruel Disdain, prelaunched a Flash Grenade, but overlooked the Maw of Inevitability and got caught up in it. Reverting to primal instincts and actions, lunged at Inmortos with claws and gaping maw.

 

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NPCs

 

"Got him" Altos called out, motioning the others to follow him. With that, the seven began their trek to the Sublevel where the King was being held prisoner. But with each level they traversed, Grenn became more suspicious. The firefights were few and far in-between, the numbers of opposition low, and his bones ached with an uneasy feeling. He didn't like the ease of their plight.

 

Finally, they arrived with the Enhanced Interrogation Chamber dead ahead. Grenn stopped, looking around with suspicion, arms at the ready. What exactly were these Sith and their machines up to?

 

MythosSig3.png

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Inmortos eyed the wolf even as he righted himself, his pulsating blade still in hand. The freezings mists rolled from the activated blade about the Sith mage. His gaze did not falter, his vision following the swift movements of the wolf. It was due to this evil-fueled gaze that Inmortos saw as the moving blur of fur and fang tossed an explosive into the air overhead. The sorcerer’s lips twisted in a smile of evil glee. The dog was rushing his encircling array of razored spears and shards of ice. The fool.

 

As the explosive detonated overhead, Inmortos  winced, his eyes squeezing shut out of some bit of primal survival reaction still carried in his decrepit and defiled form. And as his sight was obliterated in the moment, ending his continual glare of disdain, the Sith laughed. It was a deep rasping cackle of glee that carried over the battlefield; magnifying as the wolf threw itself onto the spears of ice. He could taste the blood in the wind-whipped air. Like a dog, this rebel had thrown himself forward, unable to calculate a safer path to it’s goal. So focused on it’s rabid intent that it did not care what could befall it before such a task could be completed. 

 

With his vile saber in hand, Inmortos lashed out. He did not need his eyes to see, for he was a creature of thebdarkness, a servant of the black eternal abyss. His was the vision of the ancients. His was the vision of the gods. His was the vision of the darkest realms of the force and it was this that he allowed to speak to what remained of his tattered and shriveled soul. Twisting Inmortos, drove his saber forwards into the storm of emotions that painted his attacker. He directed a broad sweep and stab of his black blade of despair towards the dog’s maw. He was not a bone to be chewed upon, cast away from the master’s table. He was the master, this battlefield his table, and this dog an infidel to be put down.

 

Even so, the dog’s claws raked against Inmortos’ arm. It was a touch. It was pain. The dark man’s flesh split beneath the canine’s rabid talons. The touch, the pain, was all he needed. The dark energies of the force rejoiced in their servant’s pain. Inmortos’ face twisted in pain and rage. How dare this dog touch him again!

 

Inmortos’ blade flurried blindly against the wolf, the winds of the gale surging once again to try and drive him back unto the spears of death. The wolf’s claw-filled paw that raked the sorcerer’s arm were met by the touch of icy flesh. Inmortos own hand, the one free of the saber, came down atop the muscled tendons and fur of the dog, the deepest recesses of the force pouring forth their storehouses. From the lowest depths of hell, Inmortos called the absoluteness of nothingness. No heat, no life, pure still death. With a touch, Inmortos loosed these powers unto the world, their frigid grasp expanding, seeking to draw the wolf into their gasp, a frozen statue, breath sapped from his body, life imprisoned for eternity in a moment of time. Rapidly these tendrils exuded outward, seeking whatever they might touch, so as to entomb whatever fell to their grasp in an eternity of timeless ice and death.

 

((3))

 

((ACTIONS:

-was blinded by the flash grenade, but guided by the force and close proximity of Mythos’ raw emotions.

-moved his saber to intercept Mythos’ bite attack to simultaneously seek to skewer Mythos in the face.

-Used a blast of wind coupled with some indiscriminate slashes of his saber to try and drive Mythos back into the spikes from last round. 

-Received lacerations to the arm from Mythos’ claws, using the skin to skin contact to try and freeze Mythos via a direct touch attack of Creeping Doom.))

 

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It was a battle of darkened hearts, Mythos driven by hatred and disgust of the Sith and their magicks, his opponent driven by disgust and disdain by any that he felt beneath him. Both had fallen into the frenzy of the primordial, and both had succumbed to it, Mythos likely lesser than his opponent, but it would still taint his heart nonetheless. Only he had yet to realize the consequences nor the permanent mark he would receive as a reminder, their fates intertwined in this singular moment as their battle continued.

 

Feeling the shift of his opponent's form and weight against his attack, his gaze shifted toward the bladed hand as the enemy swept it toward his head, causing Mythos to veer away and hinder his full attack. Coldness swept atop his head and a burning sensation soon took it's place, a portion of his scalp and ear removed to reveal the skull that laid beneath. As soon as Mythos felt the ground beneath his feet again, the onslaught of cold wind began to accumulate and rush against him as the blade continued it's assault, Mythos upon the retreat.

 

This enraged the Shistavanen even more, his armor growing cold against the blows until the fur and skin beneath became burnt with frost, using his hands and arms to protect against full contact. Unarmed and on the defensive was not where he wanted to be, especially against a Sith, the reminders upon his back and now his head burning in remembrance as his blood boiled even more. And then came the contact, the Sith grasping as his arm as he felt it begin to freeze and his energy began to wane.

 

"No." Mythos grumbled as he fought against the cold that sought to overtake him. "It will not end like this. I refuse." 

 

Mythos eyes glazed over in his weakened state, a glaze of complete anger where tunneled vision is the only course of action, basic instincts and attack of a primordial beast. Reaching out with prosthetic arm Lady Sandy had graced him with on Nar Shadaa, he grasped the Cyromancer's bladed hand and squeezed tightly, an almost frightening smile adorning his snout and chops as he opened his maw once more and went for the Sith's carotid artery.

 

Now it would be over, one way or the other. If he was to die this day, this Sith was coming with him.

 

((3: Great Duel bro, no matter the outcome. Mod is of your choosing.))

 

Actions: Avoided Inmortos' Stillblade, but at the cost of being partially scalped. Has several onsets of frostnip and superficial frostbite in unarmed defence. Grasped Inmortos' bladed hand in defiance before lunging open mouthed at his carotid artery.

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Just a little longer. 

 

Her eyes flicked to the hyperdrive readout, which was ticking down a long series of numbers indicating the gravity well for the watery world of Mon Calamari. No reports had yet come in that had indicated the Sith Empire had placed strategic interdictors around the system, and another longer glance at the readout implied that her initial thought had been correct. 

 

They had a very wounded Jedi apprentice on board, and their fuselage mounted rockets had already been expended. Their orders to revert to Medi-Vac were very clear. 

 

Just another few seconds.

 

“Hold on here we go!” 

 

The viewscreen hazed from bright white to dark black of space, punctuated by the blossoms of turbolaser fire and exploding starships. But there was no time to ponder that. She pulled back on the throttle and the U-wing shot away into hyperspace. 

 

((Picked up by Other NPCs on Nar Shaddaa Manda))

 

_________________________

 

 

“Well done HC. Moving to you, keep perimeter secure, and the moment another break opens in the fighting another Medical Evac will be on site.”

 

Or at least that's what the comm controller had informed her. How long would it be? Five, Ten? Though she had not detected worry in the stoic tones of the combat droid, the implication on his last transmission was not a good prognosis. SHe stepped over some rubble and caught up to the combat droid. She gave him a fast and human-like smile then began to survey his view.

 

“Status report, give me a full breakdown of losses. Medics will be on site ASAP.”

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Posted (edited)

Mythos:

Now.

 

The command from DG-RY1 came as the sensors of Sublevel 3 detected the intruders had all entered the floor, and were nearly to the Enhanced Interrogation Chamber.

 

Across the floor, whooshes and clangs accompanied doors slamming shut, save for a few specifically chosen hallway doors that led from the floor's outermost areas and the accompanying drain vents to the hallway the rebels found themselves in.

 

Seconds passed.

 

Then the sound of rushing water filled the halls.

 

In a surging wave, briny seawater thundered down the halls, shadows heralding its oncoming mass as lights were blotted out by the dark water. Deepguard braced themselves, but most were tossed down and spread out across the level as the water slammed into them and tossed them aside like a giant hand batting away an insect.

 

The water converged towards the center of the Sublevel, where the rebels stood. The initial wave was only 4 feet high, half the height of the hallway overall, but DG-RY1 had the palace pumps reversed and working at max capacity to flood the level, and with the majority of the level sealed off it wouldn't take more than a few minutes to completely submerge the hallways the Overseer was channeling the water through.

 

DG-RY1 allowed itself a moment of distraction, committing valuable processing power to observe the rebels through the cameras.

 

It would enjoy watching them struggle before they died.

Edited by Krath Apothos
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Kirlocca was a bit thrown off for a moment of the throne chair with Apothos taking on action by itself. He had encountered such a technique before, but never from a chair. It moved like it was connected to Apothos, which gave the Jedi Master a bit more insight into what exactly he was dealing with. The longer the battle waged on, the more likely he would be able to uncover the full bag of tricks such a Sith warrior like the one he faced could have at his own disposal. With each blow and move delivered, the thorne chair responded to him. It was something he was unsure if his own Wru’torr would be able to fully combat. 

 

The tingle he felt earlier suddenly grew stronger and the Jedi Master knew he had to respond to it now as opposed to later. Even as he opened himself to the threats that could lurk, he spotted that the throne began to move in a way that would expose its back to him. Such a move followed by the cold sensation down his spine told Kirlocca that the threat was behind him, and would be ready if he simply turned. Using partially his own strength along with the Force, Kirlocca leapt backwards in a high backflip to avoid the oncoming charge. The charge ended up being the least of his worries. Whatever came at him from behind erupted into a fiery chaotic energy that threatened much. 

 

Holding out his free paw he attempted to use the Force to protect him from the blast in the midst of his flip, but as the energy struck, the Wookiee decided to use the energy to his own advantage and let it propel him backwards even further as a way to save his own Force energy. Landing with a strong force still pushing him slightly backwards that took a bot of his own brute strength to hold himself steady, the Jedi Master stood up amongst the very fringes of his fur becoming singed from the exploding weapon of the Sith, Kirlocca took his own blade and tossed it at the chair that Apothos was being protected from. Knowing that the effects of Malacia would soon fade from his opponent, Kirlocca knew what he had to do in order to keep the Sith warrior on his feet. 

 

As the blade left his hand and went flying towards the throne, Kirlocca charged himself with long powerful strides, staggering just slightly as he was recovering from the blast and focusing more upon using the Force to guide the lightsaber. As he could feel to blades location coming near to the back of the chair, Kirlocca used the Force to leap into the air and called the lightsaber back to his paw upon the time frame of when it would have struck the chair, which happened to be when he was now dropping upon the back of the chair that was near the ledge of the rooftop. Quickly, he dropped having the blade go in a downward motion to now attempt to cut the throne in two. His opponent would not have many options to avoid the blade and save the throne, which was his goal. To engage the Sith blade to blade.

 

((Post 2 in Kirlocca vs Apothos))

[Kirlocca both avoided the blast and used its energy to help him. He then charged to throne.]

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Posted (edited)

HC-42 would feel immense relief if he had the ability to do so as Emma Three Nine replied to his call and arrived on the scene. The fearful odds faced in this brutal battle had HC-42 calculating the likelihood of her survival as low. He followed her direction to update her on the losses.

 

"Gwal is unconscious, and needs immediate evac. Sasha's arm is broken, she won't be any good until she gets treatment. Leep and I are fine, but of 50 workers that assisted us in the fight, only 18 remain alive and well." The droid said.

 

Leep, while physically fine, looked quite shaken from the brutality he'd faced. He didn't speak. Sasha shot HC-42 a glare as he described her situation. She spoke up after his report.

 

"I can still fight! I won't be a very good sharpshooter with my arm broken, but my cybernetic arm is working fine! All I need is a blaster pistol and I'll be able to help!"

 

HC-42 considered her words, but it was too risky to let Sasha fight much longer in her condition. "That is not logical, Sasha. You are in no condition to continue fighting, the risk of death is too great."

 

Sasha continued to protest.

 

"You know me! I'm willing to die for the rebellion!"

 

"I cannot afford to lose any more squadmates, Sasha. We can't be sure Gwal will be able to recover from his head trauma. If he does, it will take time. I need the rest of my squad safe until Mon Calamari is secured, and that may be a long time." HC-42 shot back. He then turned to Emma, to request backup.

 

"I will need more soldiers to hold the perimeter. The remaining Deepguard droids are barricaded somewhere in the shipyard, and I calculate they won't surrender under any circumstances." 

Edited by DroidsAreUnderrated

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Terra pressed her armored knees into the saddle, guiding the wardroid towards the ruins below. Satellite readouts indicated there had been a rescue operation mere moments before, during the heart of the Sith’s storm. The replay had indicated at least three, perhaps more, U-Wings had been a part of the operation, but there had been no indication of such an operation on her orders. Mand’alor smiled wryly.

 

Mercenaries do the hardest work for such pittance…

 

Perhaps the Rebels had not fully looted whatever they had found. Fantasies of vast treasure treasure flashed through her mind. The hidden wealth of Xim the Despot, or a treasure barge of Lord Ar-Pharazon the Golden. Crimson eyes narrowed, tracing the smoke down to twisted and destroyed rubble. She activated her scanners as the group of Basilisks descended. She traced the crater on her HUD.

 

Too jagged for timed explosive ordinance. Boiling liquid expanding vapor explosion then. Methane or some other natural gas. 

 

A discordant voice of static tongue rolled through Terra’s mind as she began her approach on the still-smoking ruin.

 

…Catacomb. Tomb. Vault…

 

The Mandalorian practically leapt from the flight-harness, her boots touching on the permafrosted rubble with a crunch. The Blackmorne Honor-Guard leapt after their Mand’alor with not but a whisper. They scrambled down the rough incline, weapons in hand. The rasping of beskar’gam on shattered stone echoed through the silent crater.  Utterly eery, lifeless, and silent. Terra slipped her battlerifle forward on her one-point sling, letting it expand to it dig into her shoulder. She spat counter-spells into her comlink, hearing them echoed by her squad. Prelest They'qell followed on her heels, staff in hand, held like a rifle. His thick accent added a few barking spells to those of his Mand'alor

 

Whispers seemed to crawl over her as she advanced, the chiding of demons, preying on her natural fear.

 

It was insurmountably dark, and the tunnel seemed to go on forever. Slight splashing filled her ears as her squad moved behind her in the semi-flooded tunnel. She could feel the slickness of algae beneath her boots. A larger splash came then, the sound of Hades following at distance, metallic plating grinding and shimmering. She scanned the air, finding now only faint tracing of methane.

 

Crimson outlines showed on her HUD, tracing an ancient, vaulted doorway, blocked with rustpocked steel. Terra waved a handsignal, and the squad split into two, flanking both sides of the massive doorway in a breaching maneuver. Filtered light shimmered off the Bronzium circlet on her helmet, reflecting white onto the dark waters and she stepped back.

 

The Assassin blinked, changing the T-visor backlight of her buyce from a crimson glow visible to the naked eye, to a purple highlight on her Infrared sensor. Her squad followed suite, and the entire tunnel disappeared into darkness, lit only on the infrared spectrum.

 

…Take every advantage.

 

With a flick of her wrist, Terra brought up a glimmering object, pressing the cylindrical tube against the doorway, thumbing the switch with a gloved finger. Crimson light was filtered automatically from the spectrum as to not blind her, the blade piercing to the heart of the door’s massive, ornate locking mechanism.

 

The boots of Prelest They'qell splashed as he moved to come beside her. The infrared highlighted his bone-woven dreadlocks, and the flickering of his reflective eyes as he chanted in a trancelike state. She took a breath of hanebane from her amulet, letting it invigorate her as she drove her hand deeper into the dark gateway. 

 

The lightsaber had once belonged to the Sith Master, Draken Shadowlord, a Krath Master and Count of Serreno, once equal in power of the any weapon of the Dark Lords of the Sith, but now it was no more than a tool in the hands of a former Pariah. She continued to speak her counterspells, cursing the darkness and all its spiritual inhabitants.

 

Whispers intensified, demons drawn to the impending destruction.

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To the Death...

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With a crack and a roar that overwhelmed the howl of the storm for a few brief moments, the chair exploded. Apothos' throne was tossed forward, legs scratching and scraping for the briefest second before it tumbled over. It hit and skidded across the snow-dusted balcony with a ear-rending screech, sending sparks flying before it ground to a halt.

 

Underneath it, crumpled in a heap under the arch of the chair's seat and back, lay Apothos' withered form. Blood dripped from his head, and a demanding, throbbing ache pulsed through his body with each heartbeat. But he was alive.

 

His chair's mechanical legs twitched and pawed feebly at the air like some overturned insect, already losing power from some rupture or misalignment. While the mechanism was designed to be sturdy, taking an explosion like that was not under its parameters.

 

Apothos struggled to move, hands and legs weakly pushing at the wet tiles of the palace terrace. The Malacia was fading, and he felt his body return to him even as it punished him for what he'd put it through.

 

Weak, useless flesh...

 

A premonition struck. Like before, when he'd sensed the oncoming potential death of Inmortos. Except this was far more personal.

 

Reacting on the whims of the Force and his own addled mind, he thrust out his hand, and his own lightsaber, looted on this very world, shot out on the power of the Force, activating mid-air to collide with the oncoming lightsaber of the Jedi. The warrior monk was so quiet! And without the dark, aggressive emotions Apothos was used to in a battle, the wookiee was dim to his perception, leaving him in a reactionary position.

 

His flying lightsaber only managed to deflect the Jedi's own lightsaber by a few degrees, but enough to keep the energy blade from bisecting him. Instead, it tore the inner workings of his chair apart, and Apothos retreated across the balcony on his hands and back even as his walking throne sparked and whined its last seconds of life. A close range contest was the last thing Apothos needed, and he had little time. Even crawling away as he did would only buy him a precious few seconds. His body was withered and near useless, and he'd never paid much attention to the vaunted "art" of the lightsaber in any case.

 

It had been the Dark Side itself that had captured his attention.

 

In a flash that might have been born of an explosion rattled mind or the Dark Side itself, an idea occurred to him.

 

An idea to distract the Jedi's focus, and perhaps turn things back in his favor.

 

This city was his. He might as well use it.

 

He thrust his hand out, sending a guileless, unrefined blast of power at the Jedi, nothing more than a stalling tactic. As he did, at the speed of a thought, even as he perceived his enemy cutting his throne completely in two and finishing the job they'd started, he sent a single command out through the communications array he'd been using before this Jedi had shown up. A single order for every Deepguard in the city, barricaded in houses, businesses, warehouses, and factories to hide from the disabling cold.

 

Civilians =/= [Noncombatants]

 

++New Order++: {Kill on sight}

 

Across the city, Deepguard droids that had been ignoring the cowering civilians in the buildings paused in their effort to secure their defensive positions.

 

Then they opened fire.

 

A wave of violent, senseless deaths, filled with shock and fear, spread across the city near instantly. Tens, then hundreds, then over a thousand died in those first few seconds.

 

And the Dark Side swelled...

 

To Apothos, it was like standing before the warmth of the rising sun. The chill of the blizzard was banished from his thoughts. The lingering Malacia was purged as his corrupted flesh and soul surged with the rising tide of the Dark Side.

 

Apothos knew this would only last a few seconds. Once the Deepguard had exhausted the unfortunate civilians near them at the time of the order, the violence would slow back down to the normal, hard fought trickle of urban battle. But for these few moments it was enough.

 

He wondered briefly how a Jedi would react to such an outpouring of the Dark Side.

 

Then he thrust his hands forward at his oncoming foe and screamed, partly in glee and partly in manic defiance.

 

"DIE!!!"

 

Lightning streamed from his fingers, leaving his skin blackened as he forwent any thoughts of control or measured response. He only knew fear, hate, anger...and joy.

 

He would not stop until he was dead, either by his own lightning or the Jedi's saber.

 

Summary: Apothos was sent tumbling by the explosion, and only managed to deflect the enemy's lightsaber throw by tossing away his own lightsaber in reaction. Crawling away, he attempted to swell the Dark Side by using his mechu-deru and the communications array atop the palace to broadcast a civilian kill order to the droids across the city. He then used lightning as a last ditch attack at the Jedi.

 

Move ((3)) in duel between Kirlocca and Apothos

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Kirlocca felt like the strings of the Force were pulling in swift motions. Slowly and surely like a strong undercurrent, change was coming. The tide was shifting and he could feel it. His attack seemed to push the Sith he fought to the edge of desperation. The throne-like chair made sounds as it was destroyed, confirming much of what the Jedi Master thought he was up against with this Sith. Pulling his blade back up to the ready after destroying the chair, he searched for a moment for the Sith as he could feel him, yet could not physically see him yet. 

 

Yet there it was, the slow weaving of the Dark Side. He was attempting to take control of another mechanical technology through his power of Mechu-deru. He had seen it before, yet now that he knew what was happening, he was able to figure out through the small weaving of the Dark Side that it was about to strike again. The sudden onslaught of death began to rise within the Force. The enemy had begun firing on civilians, and it could be felt. Although by this point, the majority of those who lived in the city had fled underwater by this point. But even so, it meant that Kirlocca had to move quickly to end this fight. 

 

The Force surged suddenly, every part of his body that was connected to the Force through Wru’torr warned him of the impending danger. The Wookiee turned to see the cracks of lightning beginning to flare out of the Sith. Without a second thought, Kirlocca lifted his lightsaber to block the oncoming Force Lightning from the Sith. His blade would hold out for a short while, but if he wanted to end the fight, he needed something else to help him stop the Sith, one that did not directly take his life, as he would be held responsible for much of what has already transpired on this planet. 

 

Knowing time was running out, the Jedi Master summoned as much Force energy to himself that he could as he did not want the Sith to resist him. Focusing his eyes upon the spot where the Force Lightning was crackling from, he lifted a paw off of his lightsaber hilt and directed a powerful Force Stasis upon the Sith. He would capture him or die trying.

 

((Post 3 in Kirlocca vs Apothos))

[Kirlocca attempted to use a very powerful Force Stasis upon Apothos as he holds of the Force Lightning.]

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Darth Inmortos vs Mythos

 

First, I'd like to say that this was a close duel, and neither side should feel that they did any less than their best. Both players played their characters admirably, and the contrast between Inmortos's refined movements and tactics against the more primal outbursts of Mythos set an excellent atmosphere. 

 

This was a short and sweet ruling. The only specific that comes up is probably what swayed the duel. A duel between an NFU and a FU is always going to be an uphill battle- to help NFUs even the field, they gain a number of advantages, from tools of war to an NPC retinue. While the duel itself was well written and well handled, and both characters were played admirably, Mythos repeatedly abandons these advantages, from ordering his retinue away pre-duel, to dropping his weapon and lunging with tooth and claw against an opponent armed with the Force and a lightsaber. The use of his cybernetic arm was excellent in this situation, but unfortunately it was not enough to sway the duel.

The winner is Krath Inmortos

 

Next post goes to Inmortos. Well done both of you.

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Posted (edited)

Locked in physical combat was a place that Inmortos did not desire to find himself, especially with a rabid dog such as Mythos. He felt the beast’s anger, it whirled within the blowing winds in an invisible vortex of power that buffeted  and empowered the very darkness the Sith was drawing upon. The heat of that passion became ice cold as it flowed through Inmortos and back out into the rebel commander. The icy tendrils snaked along the wolfman’s body, freezing muscle, bone, and blood in an ever expanding grasp of ice. 
 

His bladed hand caught in the rebel’s mechanized paw, left Inmortos feeling even more exposed to the incoming surge of teeth and rage. With a cry, the cryomancer did the only thing he could do, he fueled the ice that branched from his fingertips.

 

Overhead, Inmorts could sense the clash of light and dark as Kirlocca and Apothos sought to best one another. Even if he was bot coherent enough to know what it was, the chaotic surges of darkness only empowered the Sith more.

 

And then it happened, a horrible darkness erupted across the cityscape. The wailing and gnashing of teeth was but a whisper compared to the dark tear wrought upon the natural world. Apothos’ own machinations had struck a blow, in unison as only droids might, killing thousands in an instant. Apothos had sacrificed his own subjects. Nothing was beneath him. Nothing would stop his quest for power. Without a conscious thought on it, Inmortos’ face twisted in evil glee. The Necromancer’s tongue lolled from his mouth like a beast  trying to taste the meal that it sought. He drew the power inward sending it cascading forth in an unhindered flow of heat-draining, life-sucking power. Mythos began to crystalize, the cool blue of absolute timelessness and lifelessness metastasizing across Mythos’ furred skin and armored form. It moved rapidly across the dog, cementing the canine in a twisted statued form of his final rage; his teeth, mere inches from Inmortos throat. And still Inmortos poured the energy of absolute nothingness from his hand ibto the dog, a ragged growl of anger searing from his mouth. Grasped in the dog’s dying grasp, Inmortos was trapped until the energies of cold and darkness overwhelmed the steeled mechanics of the arm, causing it to split and crack and rupture beneath the onslaught of cold.

 

Ripping his arm free, Inmortos stumbled backwards still clutching his saber. He blinked and regarded the frozen figure before him, sparks fizzling from his exploded arm. Shaking his head, the Sith lunged, hacking away at the dog’s arm with his saber as he sent bits of frozen flesh and electronics clattering to the ground. He howled into the wind, the force feeling his raw emotion and feeding off it. The gale force winds whipped the snow into a fury about him and did not relent until the frail sorcerer tired of his onslaught; the dog’s stump of an arm reduced to nothing but a frozen stump.

 

Stretching his back, he righted himself from his display of anger at having been touched, no attacked, by such an inferior animal. Inmortos lowered his arm that clutched his saber, deactivating it with a hiss. The force responded to this act even, the winds about the dark lord subsiding briefly before being picked up by the storm overhead.

 

Inmortos regarded the rebel before him. He had fought and his soul bellied a being of power, power that yet existed within the frozen corpse that stood. Reaching into his robes, Inmortos produced a stoppered flask of milky white etherous liquid. Opening the bottle, the Sith approached, holding the flask near the frozen being’s snarling maw. Beneath his breath he chanted ritually, his words a long forgotten tongue of ancient forgotten magicks. He called to the soul of the dog, drew it into his throat until it streamed from between his teeth and into and unto the bottle. Catching what he could, Inmortos chanted until the vial was full and overflowing. Only the. Did he stop. He stoppered the flask with a squelch, stepping back to regard the soul-drooling statue with disdain. It was not his entire soul; bit it was enough. He would use it to the furtherance of his power, perhaps embed it into his throne or the walls of his citadel. Maybe even, with such power contained within this liquified shard, he would use it as a portion upon which to craft a crown worthy of his brow.

 

He brushed the thoughts away with a wave of his knuckled white hand. Those were for another time. He regarded the dog again for a moment. He had tried and failed, as the Sith knew he would; for what else could be expected of a dog. There, amongst the maelstrom of force and weather, of death and dying and undying, Inmortos put the dog from his mind. He had other matters to attend to. Turning, Inmortos raised a single hand. It wavered in the air for but a moment before he let it fall. As he did, the command that held the hordes of undead back was broken and both the Sith and Mythos were swarmed by the hungering lifeless throngs.

 

As he made his way through the surge of his own creations, they parted before him. Behind him, he could hear the slobbering and snapping as the zombies claimed another unto their own.

 

Inmortos eyes glanced skyward; somewhere amidst the gale his partner danced the dance of death. If he were to fall, Inmortos had a plan for his body as well.

 

 

______________
 

Elsewhere throughout the city, the throngs of undead continued their tireless advance. Scores more continued to crawl from the seas. Where the ice, cold, and wind had not forced open sealed entrances and walls, the press of thousands of undead often did. Pressing inwards, upwards, and downwards, the legions of death were met with fear and revision wherever they went. Where two were cut down, three more surged to fill their ranks. Where innocents fell, their deaths were but a final moment of sanity before they joined the throng. Into the city, into the buildings, into the depths, the horde advanced, caring not for preservation of life or matter. They tore at whoever or whatever was in their way, their singular goal apparent: destruction of anyone or anything that might hold life.
 

Beneath the water line, the city itself began to crack, trickles of water erupting into torrents as even the mechanized safety measures of the city failed beneath the accursed  machination’s of Apothos’ mechu-deru. The dead surged with the water as it cascaded downwards into the city beneath the city, a city beneath the waves. Icy torrents of destruction that bit and tore without thought of who or what was before it.

 

And the city, floating upon the once pristine, now frozen seas of Mon Cal lurched mightily as the water began to reclaim her birthright.  

Edited by Leena Kil

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Battle over Mon Calamari, Round Two

 

Rebel Alliance

Defensive Actions

Heavy Brawler Escort |Chayaikir| continues Escorting |Forn| and |Grek|

Heavy Brawler Escort |Zeeland| continues Escorting |Anastasia| and |Phobos| 

Light Defensive Escort |Phobos| (actions delayed by gravity crusher) continues Escorting |Bes’bev|

 

Offensive Actions       

Rebel Alliance Fleet Command Flagship |Romanova| Attacks |Sith Resurgent|: 6 damage

Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] |Forn| Attacks |Sith Resurgent|: (8-2) = 6 shield damage, 2 hull damage

Precision Strike Carrier Group |Anastasia|

Bombers Inbound on |Phantom's Spear| : 1 shield damage, 3 hull damage (delayed speed)

Bombers Inbound on |Sith Resurgent|: 1 shield damage, 3 hull damage (delayed speed)

Destroyer Group [Missiles] |Bes'bev| Attacks |Wings of Glory|: 6 damage, attack evades capital/cruiser escorts

Destroyer Group [Railguns] |Akalenedat| Attacks |Phantom’s Spear|: 6 damage

Asset Denial Force [Surgical Strike] |Grek| Attacks |Sith Resurgent|: Ion barrage impacts with shields, no effect (fast speed)

                                                                        

Fleet Starfighter Actions:

Bombers Inbound on |Sith Resurgent|: 1 shield damage, 2 hull damage (delayed speed)

Bombers Inbound on |Sith Resurgent|: 1 shield damage, 2 hull damage (delayed speed)

Bombers Inbound on |Red Dusk|: 1 shield damage, 1 hull damage (delayed speed)

 

Special Actions:

Fleet Command Flagship |Romanova| uses Advanced Sensor Upgrades: raises Global Combat Awareness by 1 (current bonus is +2).

Heavy Brawler Escort |Chayaikir| (escorting |Grek|) returns fire on |Red Dusk|: 3 damage

 

 

Sith Empire

Defensive Actions

Heavy Brawler Escort |Black Bracer| continues Escorting |Wings of Glory| and |Red Dusk| 

 

Offensive Actions

Destroyer Group [Railguns] |Phantom’s Spear| Attacks |Bes’bev|: 6 damage

            |Phantom’s Spear| penetrates Escort: Additional 2 damage through Escorting TF

Destroyer Group [Missiles] |Red Dusk| Attacks |Grek|: 8 damage, attack evades capital/cruiser escorts

Destroyer Group [Missiles] |Sith Resurgent| Attacks |Romanova|: 6 damage, attack evades capital/cruiser escorts

Artillery Battery [Gravity Crusher] |Eye of Sagittarius| Attacks |Akalenadat|: 8 damage (delayed speed)

Precision Strike Carrier |Wings of Glory|

            Bombers Inbound on |Forn|: 3 hull damage (fast speed)

            Bombers Inbound on |Forn|: 3 hull damage (fast speed)

 

Fleet Starfighter Actions:

Starfighter Rush against |Phobos|: 2 damage to frigates or 3 damage to corvettes (normal speed)

Starfighter Rush against |Phobos|: 2 damage to frigates or 3 damage to corvettes (normal speed)

Interception (Forward Deployment): All enemy Bomber attacks are delayed, 1 damage directed to shield

 

Special Actions:

Heavy Brawler Escort |Black Bracer| (escorting |Wings of Glory|) returns fire on |Bes’bev|: 3 damage

No stealth ships are detected

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They would keep the course, Raven was confident in that now, watching the shields of one of the kyber class star destroyers fail with a flash. The people of Mon Calamari deserved their freedom from Sith oppression. And so the Rebel Fleet would deliver. 

 

Taskforce Ensemble 1: Commanded by Raven Nasra

 

Rebel Alliance Fleet Command Flagship |Romanova|

KDY-Imperial II-Class Star Destroyer Misericordia |24/27|

Axial Weapon Upgrade

Pocket Dreadnought Upgrade

Advanced Sensor Upgrades

 

Rebel Alliance Precision Strike Carrier Group |Anastasia|

Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp) (Experienced Gained at Kuat III)

KDY Pelta-class Frigate Thessalonica |3/3|

KDY Pelta-class Frigate Adrianople |3/3|

RSD Paladin-class Corvette Thrace |2/1|

RSD Paladin-class Corvette Corinth |2/1|

SSC Quasar Fire-class Cruiser-Carrier Constantinople |9/9|

 

Royal Hapan Naval Heavy Brawler Escort |Zeeland|

Task Force Experience: Veteran (2xp) (Experience Gained at Fondor)

O/C-Battle dragon class Cruiser: Victoria |25/35|

 

Taskforce Ensemble 2: Commanded by Mythos Von Howlster

 

Imperial Knight Expeditionary Light Defensive Escort: Suppressing Fire |Phobos|

Task Force Experience: Veteran (3 xp) (Experience Gained at Corellia, Kuat III)

Star Galleon-Class Frigate Clermonte |3/3|

Vengeance-Class Frigate Chartres |0/0|

Interceptor-Class Frigate Francorum |0/0| 

Consular-Class Frigate Tancred |3/3|

Sphyrna-Class Corvette Guiscard |2/1|

Sphyrna-Class Corvette Dorylaeum |2/1|

Paladin-Class Corvette Yağısıyan |1/1|

Free Virgilla-Class Corvette Alexandretta |0/0|

 

Rebel Alliance Asset Denial Force [Surgical Strike] |Grek| 

Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp) (Experience Gained at Kuat II)

Victory I-class Medium Cruiser Adun-Judith |7/9|

MC-30c Frigate Adun-Lilianna |0/0|

MC-30c Frigate Adun-Arianna |0/0|

RSD Paladin-class Corvette Belladonna |0/0|

RSD Paladin-class Corvette Foudroyant |0/0|

 

Rebel Alliance Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] |Forn| (Experience Gained at Kuat II)

Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp)

Bothan Assault Cruiser Kothlos |9/3|

Bothan Assault Cruiser RedRennic |9/9|

 

Taskforce Ensemble 3: Commanded by Mandalore the Bloody

 

Mandalorian Neo-Crusader Destroyer Group [Missiles] |Bes'bev|

Task Force Experience:  Veteran (2xp) (Experience Gained at Fondor)

IPM Neo-Kandosii-class Battleship: Nat’ah |17/25|

 

Mandalorian Neo-Crusader Destroyer Group [Railguns] |Akalenedat|

Task Force Experience:  Veteran (2xp)  (Experience Gained at Fondor)

IPM Neo-Kandosii-class Battleship: Xaakzaamheid |11/25|

 

Mandalorian Neo-Crusader Heavy Brawler Escort |Chayaikir|

Task Force Experience:  Veteran (2xp) (Experience transferred from removed TF)

IPM Neo-Kandosii-class Battleship: Oosterwijk |19/35|

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Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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Life is born from Darkness, and in death, returns to Darkness. This a truth held by all walks of life, whether walking in Darkness or in Light. And yet, in the precipice of both, Light is both the first and last thing one sees before one both comes into this world and before one leaves it, a symbiotic and symmetrical balance of the two. It becomes the philosophical debate that endures the rest of one's life, not just in which one nurtures, but which is the true path. Especially for those who weird the cosmic power that is the Force. And yet, in the end, it matters little. For Death is Darkness. And Death is eternal.

 

Except for those who understand the Darkness....

 

Consciousness resides in all we touch, all we sense, all we experience. In every moment of life, our conscious imprints upon the things we become a part of. Our offspring, our clothes, our vehicles, our weapons. They become a part of us as much as we become a part of them. And if properly nurtured, our imprints can bring life back to our consciousness in the right moment as long as the right ingredients are met and the opportune moment presents itself. This is where Plagius and Palpatine failed. Life cannot be created by machines and talismans. Life can only be created by the soul. And in the soul, where the darkness resides primordial, Life is abundant. For the soul knows no lies, only the abyss of truth.

 

And in the chaos of the Abyss, whispers of truth echo....

 

As Terra and her comrades began their trek into the submerged tunnels of Mon Cal, the spark of life lit anew, awaking a consciousness of the past imprinted upon the twin blades of a former Sith Master. Whispers of the abyss began to leak from the conscious imprint like bellowing smoke, silent echoes of the past emerging into the fractured presence as the Darkness that surrounded Coral City erroded the veil. Prestel They'qell became an unknowing target as shifts in the shadows began, silent voices teasing the consciousness of the Mandalorian Priest as time past, images being forcefully imprinted upon the waning mind so subtly, horrors awaiting if it continues further.

 

The Pride of the Mandalorians were so strong, so perseverance, that the feeble mind would likely chalk it up to the Darkness around them playing mind games, never admitting to their own weakness until it was too late to turn back nor would they allow the others to deem them unworthy of such tasks. Instead they would likely try to bear the burden, recanting invocations and chants to false Gods that they believed would see them through it. And so they would continue on, visions of the blades placed to intrigue inquiring minds to the point of contact, and in doing so, unleash the consciousness buried within and doom themselves.

 

As the blade of Shadowlord began it's endeavor, the consciousness within the vault would bid it's time with perfect patience, awaiting the exact time to strike and rise above death anew. There was no Neo Krell, there was no Sith Master, only the Dark Demon known solely as Darth Oni. And his hunger for life among the risen undead was bloodthirsty.

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R.I.P. Nanny (6/3/1941-1/9/2012)

R.I.P. Papa (2/14/1936-2/7/2012)

R.I.P. Big Mike (5/12/82-11/9/2012)

~Revelations 21:4 (KJV)~

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A very well written duel to the both of you. It was nice to see both characters utilize fairly rare force powers that showed both their skill in the force as well as relative creativity. The focus of this duel really came down to both damage and force powers used. Krath, I think from a mod perspective you took a little too much damage here, even coming to the point of almost losing the connection to the force and having to kill a lot of civilians to restore it. While I love that your respected WJ’s attacks so much, and you really played off Malacia very well, it went a bit too far into just taking attack after attack in the face, which did not leave you with a lot of ground to stand on in the endgame of the duel. Again, I want to reiterate that respecting attacks is great but perhaps this went a little too far. That and lightning being a very addressable attack left you with little forward momentum. 

 

As Such the duel goes narrowly to Kirlocca

 

You both did incredibly well however, and this was a tough fight from the start as it was Lord vs Master. I congratulate you Krath for taking on such a hard fight and giving it your all. 

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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The Sith Forces continued to hold, despite being heavily outnumbered and outgunned.

 

Taskforce Ensemble 1: Commanded by Krath Apothos

 

Fleet of the Strands Heavy Brawler Escort |Black Bracer|

Veteran

Task Force Experience: 3XP

Bulwark Mk II Black Bracer |25/35|

 

Fleet of the Strands Destroyer Group (Missiles) |Red Dusk|

Veteran

Task Force Experience: 3XP  

Captor Class heavy munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |0/0|

Captor Class heavy munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |6/8|

 

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Taskforce Ensemble 2: Commanded by Kahla

 

Sith Fleet Destroyer Group (Railgun) |Phantom's Spear|

Veteran

Harrower-Class Dreadnought Phantom's Spear |9/22|

 

Sith Fleet Artillery Battery (Gravity Crusher) |Eye of Sagittarius|

Veteran

Gladiator Star Destroyer Eye of Sagittarius |10/20|

Raider II Corvette HF-11302 |2/1|

Raider II Corvette HF-11303 |2/1|

 

Sith Fleet Precision Strike Carrier Group |Wings of Glory|

Veteran

Gladiator Star Destroyer Devout Cardinal |9/9|

Terminous Frigate Galvanized Spirit |0/0|

Terminous Frigate Crimson Crescent |2/3|

Raider II Corvette HF-11300 |0/0|

Raider II Corvette HF-11301 |2/1|

 

Taskforce Ensemble 3: Commanded by Darth Mavanger

 

Sith Fleet Destroyer Group (Missile) |Sith Resurgent|

Veteran

Task Force Experience: 2XP 

Harrower-Class Star Destroyer Krayt's Fury |0/9|

 

 

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Emma’s eyelids flickered for a moment as her processing unit arraigned another packet to be sent skywards through the slackening blizzard. Within two milliseconds of sending she received an automatic response from the Misericordia’s onboard computers indicating that a medical shuttle was enroute as well as a Knight and their assault team. Another venerable U-Wing, this one heavily loaded with the mass casualties from northern assaults. 

 

Her red eyes counted the wounded and if she had still been human she would have grimaced. This was a costly mission so far and there was so far to go. 

 

“Let's get the wounded by the doorway, the blizzard is disappearing as fast as it came.” 

 

She turned and at that moment there was a flash of two white lights, they were unmistakably lightsabers, but pure white and held by what looked like a young woman and an old man. Both Humans, and the Girl broke into a wide grin when she saw HC. It was Berea and her Master. Two of the imperial offshoots of the Jedi Order. And with them came two squads of grey armoured stormtroopers. 

 

She gave HC a salute and Emma waved both of them over. 

 

“We need a last assault to take this place, HC can you manage it with the help of the knights and their troops? I will take care of the wounded.” 

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HC-42 complied with Emma's order to get the wounded by the doorway, making use of whatever strength the few remaining shipyard rioters had left to do so. The droid could guess that this particularly hard battle was eating away at Leep's own stamina, something he had to keep in mind for any future engagements. But then there was indeed a flash of two lights, and as soon as they did, HC-42 could barely believe his sensors.

 

If miracles did in fact exist, HC-42 thought this new aid was the closest he'd ever seen to one. He knew how skilled Berea was, having trained against her. He almost didn't hear Emma's request that he participate in the last assault to seize the shipyard, but thankfully his sensors didn't tune her words out. 

 

"I will fight to the best of my ability." HC-42 said in response, and he then took a look at Leep. He was still shocked and looked tired, as he should be, so HC-42 asked Leep something similar.

 

"Will you assist me once again, Leep?"

 

Leep, to the droid's surprise, smirked. "Are you kidding? It would be my honor!"

 

That settled it. Within half an hour, HC-42 and Leep had gathered with the Stormtroopers and the Knights, leaving Sasha and Gwal to tend to their wounds with the medics. As he prepared for this final stretch (for securing the shipyard, anyway), HC-42, for the first time since joining the Rebellion, had realized that the rebels were more than just a means to his end. They were good people, and they were doing whatever they could to free the people of the galaxy. For the first time since leaving Charros IV, the droid felt like he actually belonged where he was- he belonged on the battlefield, taking back what the Sith had taken from him and his comrades.

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Inmortos tore his eyes away from the unseen scene above, what became of Apothos was not a mantle for the necromancer’s shoulder; not while the Sith still breathed anyway. All about him, the undead surged, their countless eyes relaying to the shadow-clad skeleton of a man the goings on of a city in turmoil and hopelessness.

 

Even now, the city itself quaked beneath the lord of death and time eternal. Still, the rebels pressed on, intent on some unfathomable fools’ errand to try and lap up that which had rightfully fallen from the master’s table. The city would be lost. Inmortos was sure of it. He had seen to it. There were other cities that Apothos could ply his trades upon. This one, this one would serve as an example for all who opposed the Sith, and as warning to these so called rebels that their meddling came with a price; one too great for them to pay again and again and not be clasped in the steel maw of darkness and despair.

 

And yet still, they fought. 
 

Carried by his surge of undead, Inmortos flew through the city. His legion of undead lizards had fallen to unknown forces. They were a worthless sacrifice and yet, Inmortos found that those people, they who worshipped him as a god in life and death, their sacrifices here pulled at the strings of his withered heart. Those had been his minions, sacrificed to serve him and butchered senselessly by these usurpers to the throne world of Apothos. Apothos would pay for them. These rebels would pay for them. 
 

And so, back towards the shipyards, the surge carried the dark lord. The canted spire that once was the pride of the galactic industry, battered, broken, listing and frozen barely stood. Hordes of undead surged through the shattered doors and windows. They deposited Inmortos inside the devastated  main entry hall. The security post was vacant and decimated, Apothos’ deepguard having followed their programming and seeking out insubordinates and degenerated.

 

Clutching his heavy cane in hand, Inmortos began his slow shuffle through the hall. He felt the force whirling lime a tempest, clawing in hunger for more blood, more death.

 

Making his way throughbthe complex, Inmortos followed the call, the taste, of death. It led him to a locked door; blast doors sealed by the security countermeasures. What was behind it tasted other-than-heavenly. The taste of death was almost overwhelming. With his free hand, Inmortos slammed it into the door with a resounding gong. The sorcerer’s nails dug into the metal as wisps acidic rose beneath his palm. Energy poured forth from the dark side manifesting in tendrils of rapid aging and unmaking. The door began to crumble before the necromancer’s magic; slow at first, but as the door gave way, it clattered to the floor before him with a resounding bang about the hangar.

 

Inmortos surveyed the scene within. The icy air was a remnant of his magics and he welcomed their cool embrace. The undead and dead littered the floor, some stacked like cordwood by the rebels. Behind him, more undead surged, held at bay by the will of the sorcerer. He regarded the rebels with a sick curiousity. They certainly looked like mortals, but their souls . . . their souls did not exist? They were droids! Blasphemous creations, tools of Apothos will. They were of little use to Inmortos; but their smoking husks may yet be of use to his fellow lord of Mon Cal. With what they carried in their cores, the rebellion could be quashed for eternity. The mortals, well, their souls would be added to his trove of souls gems. Treasures to be ferreted away in his vault.

 

Standing there in the shadows, Inmortos allowed the dark bess of the force to swirl about him, manifesting as a cold breeze that whistled towards the door that contained the rebel forces. With a sharp crack, the Sith lord’s blackened saber hissed to life, it’s blackened energized blade drawing heat and light towards the abysmal maw of it’s existence. Steam and fog curled from the hilt, bathing the Sith in an ethereal fog of war painting him a cloaked specter; the embodiment of death itself.

 

“It is the end rebels. Be gone.”

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Kirlocca moved quickly upon locking the Sith within the Force Stasis field he had created for him. While it held the Sith in suspension and kept the Force lightning off of him, he knew such a hold would not last. In the fast rush to the temporarily frozen Sith, the Wookiee came down on him with his paw in a thunder hit to his head with the end goal being to knock him unconscious until a later time. Upon striking the temple of the Sith, Kirlocca stood up and towered over the unconscious body before him. The Force swirled around like an ocean crashing into a side of mountain, wave after wave. After a moment passed, the Jedi pulled out his comlink. 

 

<< This is Jedi Master Kirlocca, I have a prisoner to be taken into custody. Leaving my channel open to track my location. >>

 

After he spoke, he put the comlink away and picked up the Sith with one arm and slung him over his shoulder like a bag full of light materials and walked towards the edge of the building, and then leapt down, using the Force to slow his approach and land gracefully upon floating platform that was Coral City. A solider who was at the bottom had a sudden jump at the very landing and was in shock until he realized who it was and what the Wookiee had in his arms. "We should let him rot with the rest of those of whom he deemed unworthy to live." Kirlocca raised an eyebrow at the solider. 

 

<< And then we would be no better than him. None of these actions are new to us. His partner, I can feel it within the Force, a slippery one, is doing what is expected. Fear is taking over and he is attempting to run and hide. Sith have always been cowards and run when the tide turns against them. What drives them and what makes them squirm in guilt are different from us. A prison is the best form of justice for this one. >>

 

Without any other word, Kirlocca reached out into the Force and called Johan to him. After doing so, he made his presence like a beacon within the Force, pouring life, happiness and warmth into it. He knew that the other Sith on planet would without a doubt be able to feel the Jedi Master and know what he was doing. But Kirlocca also knew that he would never engage him, as that was not his way. So for the moment, he turned his attention to the one whom lay before him, unconscious from the hard blow the Wookiee gave and began to reach into his mind, attempting to to gain more intel on what he should expect from here on out.

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Jarvus grimaced as he watched the Krayt's Fury fall apart around him. He remained calm- to panic would do nothing for his people. For the Empire. The battle was being fought by tooth and nail- while he had considered a retreat, it would have been disgraceful to leave his allies alone in this fight. That decision would cost him, however. The grim reality was that the Fury was likely on its last legs. Only a few more volleys would do her in, and all hands aboard would likely me lost. He had to give his orders now.

 

"All non-essential personnel, report to the nearest escape pod. To all remaining ships under my command- If the Fury falls, you will be under the command of Darth Tyra's forces."

 

Klaxons blared, and he breathed deeply, his face the steely visage of Imperial calm. His heart ached, however. Would he never again serve Lord Mordecai? Was this truly his end? It was likely. More than anything, however, he ached for what his death would do to the Sith Lord. He had been there when Lord Xahl had been slain in battle. He had borne witness to the man's grief firsthand. In the aftermath, Mordecai had slain his enemies without mercy. Before, he had been opposed to the rebels and their ideals, but he had understood them, somethign that had led to mercy in his heart, though to say that to the Sith would not have gone well. After Xahl, his heart had hardened. He had grown distant. Angrier. Filled with a deep rage.

 

He pitied the fools that would oppose Darth Mavanger after today.

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Johan almost choked as he felt the WAVE of death flow through the city, the storm and the fact that most of the original wave had hit before his senses were fully sent out had shielded him earlier but this... this was bad, he slammed down his senses with a wince. He struggled with his anger at the Filth that had brought this upon the people, the rebel were far from perfect. neither, in truth, were the Jedi, but they would never do something like this (both the purposeful attacking of civilians and the slightly more notable pack of zombies currently attacking them), after a moment he returned his mind to battle, anger thrown aside in favor of protecting the people. He shoved his saber through the head of one with his left hand and dragged down, bisecting the puppeteered body and firing a few shots to finish a droid up the street with his right, blaster filled hand. the droid was half functioning and wildly firing every few seconds, damaged by the storm and battle no doubt Johan though as he regarded the pieces of shrapnel and frost on the droids body.

 

"Sergeant, are there any other groups coming?" he yelled back into the store that most of the rebels were fighting from, with the exception of some arrayed around the the entrance and a few with melee weapons of some sort, a unit he didn't recognize (not that that was saying much) joining him in intercepting any that blaster fire didn't Scythe down.

 

"No sir! we have everyone who can and will come" the man paused "or hasn't been killed" he said solemnly.

 

"then we need to..." Johan twitched and had to jerk aside as his master sent him a message as a pair of undead attacked him as one. He needed to work on not being surprised every time me got a physic message, considering how often his master used them. After dispatching the 2 with a few wide, quick strikes to render them, 'alive' or not, harmless he fell back to the store and while sending attempting to sent a message back and make his own presence more visible. "Get on the line and try to contact Master Kirlocca, we need a pick up NOW, make sure you make it clear with have several dozen soldiers and civilians here, we may be the biggest group not yet evacuated" Johan said as he sent a few bolts into the leg of one of the melee wielding rebels opponents, the man using the opening the turn the corpse into a shredded useless mess with a flourish.

 

"Aye Sir!" the Sergeant responded and went back to it. Johan looked up and down the street at the steady stream of damaged droids and shuffling undead and grimaced, they weren't a big threat in the short term but they had been boxed in, they would be overwhelmed without a pickup, or a few dozen men to reinforce them. The blizzard had lessened but visibility was still kriff after about 120 meters or so, making the few long range blasters they had not more effective then the average blaster rifle in anything but power. He threw himself back at the hoards with a shout to rally the near by men and women of the alliance, all but begging the force internally for help to insure that these people under his sudden command lived to see the next dawn. A flair of warmth, not consciously recognized blew through him, and he went into the battle with renewed vigor.

 

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Emma’s red eyes narrowed as the lightsaber sprang to crimson life at the end of the large room. The Knights instantly reacted, drawing apart to form a defensive barrier between the Rebel Soldiers and the Sith Lord. Her voice crackled with static as she made her voice loud enough for all the troops and the Imperial Knights to hear.

 

“Knights, if you may continue on to the objective. The shipyard is more important that all of our lives. It must take priority should the Alliance continue to exist. Please do not resist my orders, I am specialized for this kind of engagement.” 

 

The Knights exchanged a look and Berea’s young face furrowed in concern before her master nodded. Then without a word the two knights dashed off to the second entrance. A good half of their troops remained behind and Emma let the neural net extend to HC and these new soldiers. Their HUDs flared with the new information as Emma fed them the plan that the supercomputers had shuttled down the narrowband link into the sensor package in her body. She was a lower class AVATAR, not built for system wide conflict, but this was where she thrived.

 

Her blaster came up, its long barrel jutting a screaming trio of bolts that thundered towards the Sith Lord and his entourage of death. The six soldiers that had joined her net moved as one, bounding outwards to form a simple curved firing line, a meter between each, their blasters coming up and filling the room with the smell of discharged ozone and brilliant crimson light. They were the premier soldiers of the Imperial Remnant; they had fought at Cardia and Kuat. They had seen their worlds fall, and they would live to see them retaken. 

 

As the Sith fleet in orbit above them was reduced to ruined scraps of metal, so too would the machinations of this Sith Lord be turned to ruins. He had defiled this planet, and Justice called for his destruction. 

 

Soldiers under Direct Control of Emma Three Nine

Spoiler

 

Arseni Black - Rifleman

E-22 Blaster Rifle

Kailai Hostrop - Rifleman

E-22 Blaster Rifle

Aaron Hinderson - Rifleman

E-22 Blaster Rifle

Kelsey Andersen - Rifleman

E-22 Blaster Rifle

Charles Gachet - Repeating Rifleman 

T-21 Light Repeating Rifle

Sindra Calla - Heavy Weapon Specialist

RT-97 Heavy Blaster Rifle - Underbarrel Grenade Launcher

 

 

Actions Taken: Blaster Bolts from both Emma and her soldiers towards Inmortos. Neural Net Setup for all Soldiers involved. 

((1))

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HC-42 remembered the dread and desperation he felt when training against the Imperial Knight Berea on Nar Shaddaa, as he thought she was a Sith. The fact that he was now facing a real Sith- a Sith Lord, at that- doubled that feeling. The droid had no time to freeze, however. He and his comrades were going to get rid of this Sith Lord, or die trying.

 

As Emma and her six neural-linked soldiers fired on the Sith, HC-42, on the other hand, made a bold move- he dropped his heavy repeating blaster, prepared his flamethrower, and activated his electrostaff. He calculated these would be the most effective weapons against the Sith. There was risk too- HC-42 wasn't the best at duelling in close quarters. But he was nonetheless programmed in the basics, and he was going to utilize this programming for the first time.

 

He gripped his sparkling electrostaff, and charged between Emma's troops, headed straight for Inmortos. Leep followed suit, firing on Inmortos as he ran in an effort to give HC-42 cover. HC-42's mechanical legs were moving as fast as their motors could allow, as HC-42 tried getting as close as possible to the Sith. He then started his offensive by spraying fire from his flamethrower in Inmortos' direction. 

 

HC-42 doubted the attack would actually work, but hoped it would give an opening for Leep or Emma's attacks to work instead. Once again, Emma's advice to "Distract and flank!" came into HC-42's practice. 

Spoiler

 

NPCs under HC-42's control:

Leep - Martial artist/rifleman

E-22 Blaster Rifle

Cybernetic Legs

 

 

Actions Taken: Flamethrower sprayed toward Inmortos; blaster fire from Leep. 

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Inmortos cackled wildly as the robots reacted as robots might be expected to. These machinations were no better than their masters that programmed them and it was for those souls that the necromancer craved; not these bits of rubbish. Yet there were still souls here to be claimed and they that threw their lot in here would be devoured. The dark sorcerer’s wounds from the battle before had healed, a byproduct of his distinct heritage, leaving the visage of death prepared for action beneath his tattered robes. This battle would be his and these abominations would be cast aside.

 

The sound of blaster fire no more than began to erupt and the Sith lord was already flurrying into action. His feet did not move. The dark tendrils of the force surged with his unhinged desires and passions as his hands flicked upwards using the force to heft the fallen blast door from the ground, slamming it down between the dark lord and his foes across the bay even as some charged at him. The door created a buffer to absorb the withering display of destruction as the rebel blasters played their song of doom against the door. Inmortos was left sheltered for the moment, only his undead in the hall behind him as company.

 

It was simple telekinesis, taught to even the most basic force using apprentice, slammed the door designed to handle such an onslaught back into the ground as a shield. With the touch of his hands upon the back of the door and the floor itself, the iciness of Inmortos’ void-filled soul crept out in all directions, drawing the life and power from whatever it happened to touch, tasting the energy of the fire that crested about the fringes and absorbing it in it’s bitter embrace. The ice solidified the door to the floor. It craved life, energy, motion of any sort. Whatever was caught in it’s expanse of icy doom would find itself clawed at so as to bind it where they met, freezing muscles and sinews and transforming moving cogs and gears into frozen hafts. Even as the flames licked the front of the door, ice crept along the back; a duel of eternity and destruction, a duel of competing dark side manifestations. This was Inmortos’ power. This was the power of the dark side made manifest.

 

All the while, Inmortos whispered beneath his breath, a cursed spell torn from the skin-bound tomes of an ancient unholy order brought back to the world of the living. The very foundations of the force seemed to reverberate with the power of the forbidden words calling out to the dead that lay stacked behind the rebel force.
 

Clawing their way back to existence, their souls re-bound to their tattered bodies, imprisoned and tortured, four of the dead rose up. Hulking musclebound dock men, their minds ragged and unreasonable, pushed beyond the limits of life, torn across the horizon of death, rose and charged. Their minds were simple, pushed to a point of utter rage, directed only by the curse of the dark side’s power chanted in a whisper by the necromancer.

 

Righting themselves the undead charged the rebel firing squads, the graves’ tide seeking to charge, claw and tear at the droids and soldiers. They sought to drive their death-fueled passions into they that the dark side drove them to destroy. The lives, the power sources of these rebels would be extinguished if the freshly undead not ceased.

 

((1))

 

((Used basic telekinesis to set the blast door up as a shield from the spray of incoming blaster fire across the bay and to catch the burst of flames from HC-42’s charging attack. Inmortos used Creeping Doom found in the Cryomancer’s Guide to cement the door in place with ice, sending ice outwards to attempt to ensnare the advancing rebels while simultaneously chanting so as to use Gravetide, found in the Necromancer’s Guide, to reanimate four of the dead that the rebels had stacked near them prior and send them after the rebel attackers (Emma & Co.) ))

 

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