dice
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Post by dice on Mar 9, 2018 0:35:41 GMT -5
IC: Darth XirrBeneath Sadow's Tomb, Catacombs, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban Xirr continued down the hallway, following the distant echoing voices of his companions, he could make out merely a few of the words being said, but he heard enough to surmise the situation. They had hit a wall. Literally. Xirr was running their options over in his head as he continued down the hallway when suddenly he tripped over something he could quite make out through both his vizor and the suffocating blackness of the Tomb. He was falling, and then he was taking someone else with him, someone who he would find out as they both hit the ground, was none other than the small form of Robyn Shaire. "Get up, you clumsy oafs," Apollyon snorted, "and please pay attention to where you're going - and this puzzle on which our survival may depend...?"
Xirr groaned as he pushed his dense, muscled body off of the floor with ease, at least until the skeleton that he had just tripped over became, once more, animate. Xirr quickly realized that it wasn't merely his skeleton, but each corpse that the group had come upon since being trapped in this bleak offshoot of the main Tomb. Before he had time to think any further than that, the nearest corpse was moving to slice at both himself and Robyn with the remains of what Xirr could only assume was once a sword. On instinct Xirr kicked out with as much force as he could muster from his position, attempting to knock the unfortunate undead off balance and perhaps even knock it down, hopeful that he could buy enough time to get his sabers in hand and back on his feet. "Kriffing Tomb and it's perpetual death traps! Always something else isn't it? Spike pits, acid beasts, force phantoms, and now undead?" Xirr shook his head in bewilderment sighing with a disdainful acceptance of his fate. TAG: Darth Catalyst, Volshe, Darth Dreadwar, Padawan4687, gorzan, @lordjania
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Post by Darth Voidwalker on Mar 9, 2018 8:33:34 GMT -5
IC: Voidwalker Hold of the Artificer, Federation checkpoint Voidwalker’s offer must have fallen on deaf ears, The shadow only commented on the fact that Draven had lowered his weapon and seemingly had no defense. "You are unwise to lower your defenses.” Before Draven could even make a comment back the Jedi was on the move. Luckily Draven already had a contingency plan in motion that he had planned to use to use as a trap but now might be the time to use that plan. The Jedi came in fast and slashed at the chest of Voidwalker with a flourish. As the Jedi spun around he fired off a shot at Karina before coming in to strike at Voidwalker. Reacting barley in time, Voidwalker hurled the second lightsaber he had waiting for the Jedi. The blade spun through the air the blade igniting as it would race in attempts to meet the blast from the Jedi’s weapon and save Karina. Voidwalker activated the lightsaber still in his hand. The crimson blade sprang to life with the familiar snap-hiss as he brought his blade to meet the Jedi’s golden blade. As the barrage of blaster bolts came closing in, the Jedi Shadow easily displayed his reflexes. Seeming to effortlessly reflect the bolts with ease in all directions. Draven dodged behind the over turned chair that he and Karina had been sitting in only moments before. There has to be some way to get distract him so I can get in close enough and kill him. As Draven peered out from behind the makeshift cover to check on Karina, he vision was redirected to his second lightsaber laying on the ground by Garns dead body. That’s it! He won’t be able to stop simultaneous close range attacks. Alright Garn, I outsmarted you, let’s see if I can outsmart a Jedi. Voidwalker opened himself up to the Force and let his senses convey the entirety of the room. He could sense the Jedi, Captain Thilly, Karina, and the body of Garn. Focusing on Garn he quickly found was he was searching for, the dead Dark Jedi’s lightsaber. Reaching out with the Force Voidwalker used the energy hands of the Force to grip Garn’s lightsaber and his own that laid on the floor. This is a bit more difficult than I had thought it would be. No matter I’ll do three things at once, this timing has to be just right. Focusing on the two single lightsabers Voidwalker timed it at just the right moment when he activated his own lightsaber the other two did simultaneously. From behind the cover of the over turned chair, Voidwalker called out to the Jedi. “You’re making a mistake here Jedi. I gave you a chance to let this go but now it’s too late and you will die!” Leaping from behind his cover, Voidwalker came in quickly at the Shadow. Voidwalker slashes at he Jedi’s head as if to decapitate him. All the while the two other lightsabers came in for their own attacks. Being guided by Voidwalker through the Force, Garn’s blade came with a diagonal slash at the Jedi’s midsection, all the while Draven’s second blade came in low with a horizontal slash at the Shadow’s legs. Hopefully Karina will take the shot when she sees the opening. He won’t be able to stop all three of these and a shot from the back.TAG: Darth Dreadwar kurtishenschel |
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Arcane
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Post by Arcane on Mar 9, 2018 9:29:55 GMT -5
IC: Arcane Temple passageway, Korriban Hunched over in a bit of pain Arcane wiped the bloody saliva from his own mouth before he spoke. "Sir," He began. "We would need some kind of heavy machinery or mining drills. The wall is too thick for hand work." He paused to take in another painful breath. "However, the drills of the dead miners are still here. We could return them to storage and pick up heavier equipment while inside. That way no one would question why we were there or why we need such equipment." He pulled his paw out from under his arm. The bleeding had subsided. He looked over his wound. "This will scar for sure." He mumbled aloud. His scarred eye was almost back to normal now. He rubbed it a bit as he spoke again. "If we use the heavy machinery, will it alert anyone else? Such as the emperor?" He swallowed hard. Knowing all to well that he was supposed to report back to the emperor with his findings, and now this. The situation was not ideal, but he needed to make it work. And he needed it to work in his favor. TAG: Darth Dreadwar |
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Padawan4687
Imperial Intelligence
.: Empress' Sword / Director of Intelligence
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Post by Padawan4687 on Mar 10, 2018 19:44:53 GMT -5
IC: Robyn Shaire
Location: Beneath Sadow's Tomb, Catacombs, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban
Robyn hurried on, taking in the wall details in thoughtful silence. So, this was some sort of puzzle that the previous... six... people... were unsuccessful in solving. Didn't make it impossible, just... difficult. Great. She sighed to herself, and leaned back just in time to hear something skid from right behind her. Just as quickly, she was knocked off her feet and practically crushed under someone's hulking weight. "KRIFF! OW!" she shouted, trying and failing to roll over to free herself. Something sharp was pressing against one leg, and she spent a second feeling grateful for her cloak. The next second forced her to freeze, because a new sound reached her. ...groaning? Instead of speaking, Robyn let her forehead sink to the ground for a split second. It was a "new" sound... but hardly new to her! In fact, maybe some small part of her was always bracing for that unearthly moaning to appear again. So those skeletons and corpses they passed by weren't quite dead. As much as Robyn wanted to believe they were illusions too, she saw the assassins examine the body with her own eyes. ...but none of us had any reason to believe it wasn't really there. As Xirr lashed out at the nearest corpse, Robyn finally had enough room to slip away. She stuck low to the ground and rushed forward to regroup and go for her lightsaber. She'd thought of trying to destroy these living-dead the same way she'd managed the first time, but considering her first encounter was outside in the open air... she didn't want to risk turning this narrow hallway into an oven. "Standard Sith Tomb procedure," she called out, joining in on the group sarcasm, "Everything that can move, and even some things that don't and or shouldn't, want you dead anyway!"TAG: Darth Catalyst , dice , Volshe , @lordjania , Darth Dreadwar , Shira , gorzan
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Shira
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Post by Shira on Mar 10, 2018 20:12:44 GMT -5
IC: Shira A’dolaThe Triumphant, hyperspace, en route to the Nihil Retreat"I shall escort her, ma'am," Gederp swiftly interjected and Shira nodded at him gratefully. Shira knew there was an overwhelming possibility her student would object these circumstances, but the captain led Alisha firmly out and towards the med-bay before she could voice any protestation. Shira stood still for a moment, mere seconds in thought before turning brusquely to her two newest passengers. “With me please.” Her voice was soft, but firm as she strode past the man and his student and walked through the halls, leading them to her study. Her brain felt fogged and she was unable to think clearly. After all of this, if Alisha was deemed fit to function, she would have to hand off leadership to her student until she could get a decent amount of sleep. As much as she fought sleep, she wasn’t entirely unreasonable; she could not function like this. A hiss echoed quietly as she palmed the door open, regarding the untouched room with amusement. Everything else had been so damaged and defiled through all of the recent events that it was almost amusing to see her office in such pristine shape. She opened a cupboard, bringing out a decanter of Corellian rum and waved over three crystalline glasses to settle upon her desk. “Would you like a drink?” she asked, pouring herself a small glass of the amber liquid and settled the decanter back on the surface of the desk. “I have other drinks if you wish for something different.” She took a small sip and regarded the two for a moment: old, powerful Force user, his signature on par with Sistros’ and his younger student. “I’m sure you have your own reasons and a desire to keep your secrets. However, there are things I must know. Chief among them, how did you get on my ship? We are in the middle of hyperspace, something that was not halted to battle the cultists. Not even my Darksight could have suggested a path such as this. It’s unthinkable. Second, what are your reasons for being here? I would say chance, but a being so powerful as you likely does nothing by chance. Thirdly, and lastly for the moment, now that a mutual adversary has been defeated, thanks to you,” she nodded at Vassago again in thanks. “Where do we stand, you and I?” TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Lord Vassago
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Shira
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Post by Shira on Mar 10, 2018 22:20:24 GMT -5
IC: The Twins
The Wall of Prophecy, False Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban
“Polyglots indeed, assassin. It took me many decades of training and study to learn to read Basic. I’m sorry I overshadowed your perceived abilities.” Kevala had the grace to blush at her exhausted mis-speak, silvered rose colouring her cheeks. Before she could snap back that she regretted how long it took him to master the most common galactic tongue, Catalyst shot a sly grin back at her before continuing. “Besides, it helps to be an expert on traps when one needs to catch an assassin."
Kevala’s mouth dropped open in outrage as Scionica tried, and failed, to hide a snicker. Before she could retort, however, Apollyon took her turn to to snip at the assassin, irritation threading through her smooth voice. Kevala merely glowered at the wall, pride burning in her ill state.
A shiver of premonition shuddered down the twins spine before a rattling echoed through the passageway. Kevala’s eyes narrowed as she peered around Catalyst before rolling her eyes at the sight of the re-animated corpses. “I told you!” she snapped. Something hit the back of her knees and she fell to the ground, the sound of clacking teeth sounding above her. Scionica had seen the attack coming and had, quite literally, saved her sister’s neck while dealing the the reanimated body. She yelped as the antiquarian blade slid shallowly across her back, leaving a long, superficial wound. More enraged than injured, she snapped out her electro-staff, aiming the sharp point towards the skull as Kevala rolled to her feet and aimed her drawn blades towards the flying disc aimed for Viscretus, hoping to smash it out of the air.
TAG: dice, Padawan4687, Darth Catalyst, gorzan, Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, @lordjania
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Post by Lord Vassago on Mar 11, 2018 0:04:35 GMT -5
IC: Darth Vassago & SabbaAboard The Triumphant, hyperspace, en route to the Nihil RetreatSabba’s eyes focused with concern on the young Togruta woman being escorted away. She didn’t know who it was, or what was wrong with her, but her mouth hung open slightly with worry that she’d be okay. She’d been too focused on the state of the stranger that she missed Shira’s request. She felt a nudge at her shoulder and startled out of her concern, turning her eyes upward to see her Master looming over here. “ Follow,” he whispered, nearly silent, and gestured to Shira’s form walking away. Sabba nodded once and went after Shira with hurried steps, not wanting to earn the ire of her Master. The pair followed behind Shira a brief time, through a few passageways before ending at what looked to be an office, or a study. The door hissed closed behind them, sealing with a soft puff of the airlock, and Vassago stood with his Apprentice only a step inside the room taking in the finer details. It was not like the rest of the ship, which had seen much turmoil, but appeared to be excellently kept, with fine furnishings, seating, and living spaces to accommodate. The Dark Lord watched the woman, brushing a hand against his beard; the soft lighting of the room highlighted the woman’s elegant form, the overall aesthetic of the room adding to a more relaxed environment, seeming almost out of place amongst the rest of the ship. She presented refreshments after reaching into a cabinet, three glasses filled with amber liquid. Shira noted she had other beverages and sipped first, something Vassago noted very easily; it was clear she was trying to provide some measure of comfort that the drinks were safe to consume, and by taking the first swig, she showed her hand that she had no intent to harm them. It was subtle, but not unnoticed. Sabba smiled softly at the gesture, though she hadn’t considered the implications of Shira drinking first and moved toward the desk to fetch a drink. The moment she moved, she felt the firm grip of her Master’s hand upon her shoulder, holding her in place. He shook his head softly, his eyes meeting her own for only a moment. She curled her bottom lip inward, biting at it softly, and stayed beside the aged man. The woman, Shira, continued on, getting straight to the point and began asking a few diplomatic, if not direct, questions pertaining to their presence and intention on her vessel. The aged Lord opted to answer them at his own leisure, rather than all at once. He was no stranger to the idea of presenting a safe, diplomatic environment in an attempt to let one’s guard down, but he was not about to rest so easily in an environment he still felt could be dangerous for Sabba. He had no real reason to fear the woman, or her crew, or any number of troops she had, no number could save her from him should she turn hostile, yet he was not certain he could properly protect his Apprentice against such numbers. He chose to remain guarded until he could be sure. “ We are appreciative of the privacy, Mistress. The passageway was becoming…crowded,” he paused a moment, noting the abundance of what he saw as non-essential personnel where they previously stood. “ Allow me to properly introduce myself,” he began again, taking another two steps into the room, “ this is my Apprentice, Sabba Aeolian,” he gestured softly to the young woman beside him, allowing her to bow low at the introduction. “ And I am Lord Vassago,” he said plainly, inclining his head slightly while he spoke. “ We’ve arrived on your vessel at a most opportune time for you, it seems. Had I not intervened, I think the situation on your vessel would be much bleaker.” He noted, a small smirk poking at the side of his wrinkled cheek. “ As to how we arrived,” he paused for a moment, stepping up to the desk so that he was across from Shira, “ through an art once known by Emperor Palpatine himself, yet mastered by no other practitioner in known history. An art to rend space itself, and transmigrate ourselves through the cosmos. An unnatural ability, deadly to most, known as the Force Storm.” His words carried with them a cold air of confidence without coming off boastful, something Shira would no doubt pick up on; the cautionary nature of the statement would not be lost on her. Vassago chose his next words carefully. He had no desire to fully reveal himself, to speak of his intended meeting with Dreadwar, to lay all his cards out, as it were. “ My Apprentice and I are traveling lightly, with only the objects on our person. We seek out a merchant, a peddler of rare goods,” he told her, reaching down to take the glass of amber liquid into his free hand. He swirled it under his nostrils and inhaled lightly, his eyebrow arched at the quality of the Rum, higher than he’d expected, and set it down again. “ Writings and holorecordings of a bygone era, archaic artifacts, even. Useless trinkets to most, but…” he paused for a moment, turning his gaze directly to Shira’s, “ quite priceless to a man such as myself.” The Dark Lord turned to Sabba and gestured, prompting her to come to his side. She took hold of the staff that he handed off to her, and stood patiently beside him. The aged Lord pushed his robes out from around him and leaned back, taking a seat in the chair situated in front of the desk. He laced his fingers together on his chest and looked up at Shira across from him, an uncharacteristically amused smirk across his face. “ As for you and I, Mistress Shira,” he paused a moment, looking to Sabba briefly, “ you’ve nothing to fear from us.” He finished quietly, his voice almost haunting. Sabba looked to her Master for a moment, then turned to Shira, a woman she quite liked, and smiled warmly, her eyes bright. She hoped the words of her Master served as some comfort to Shira, calming her mind, which was no doubt a bit preoccupied with what could happen to her while she stood alone in her office, secluded with two strangers. TAG: Shira
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Mar 11, 2018 0:12:33 GMT -5
IC: Darth Coatlec
Location: Imperial Medbay, Sith Temple, Korriban
Dreadwar's remarks following Coatlec's full admission were cold as ice, but they were true and they struck the Illustrious bastard hard. The Magnificient Emperor began by saying, "That is scarcely precise enough...you must descend to a lower level of analysis - the level on which we might perform the greatest and darkest arts of the Sith. The method of rationality. The power of clear thinking. The most dread ritual, of scientific analysis." Scientific analysis, huh? I was never good at any type of science, let alone scientifically inhuman level of analysis Dreadwar was able to do.
"I will describe what you did wrong precisely, Lord Coatlec," continued Dreadwar. It seemed that Coatlec's previous answers weren't in-depth enough for the ancient Emperor. Here comes another monologue. Maybe he'll just let me sleep again soon, but probably not. "What you demonstrated in the tomb, child, is that, unlike those beasts who keep their claws sheathed and accept the results, you do not know how to lose a dominance contest. When the Head of Sith Intelligence challenged you, you did not back down...you are a fool of an idiot who has no concept of the dominance hierarchy. And before I teach you to climb it, I must first teach you how to fall from a rung on its ladder." It seems that I fell off a ton of rungs off this ladder. Not simply one rung. I mean, they're doing something in that tomb, while I'm just sitting here getting healed when I should've died.
"Losing begets understanding. And so, Lord Coatlec," Dreadwar paused maliciously, "today you are going to learn how to lose." Oh no. What could he possibly have in mind? Surely it's similar to the monks of Teras Kasi.
Snap. Oh shit.
"Warlord, step forward," rasped the ancient wraith. Kark. All I can say is kark. "My young apprentice," Dreadwar whispered, "this is the greatest and most difficult lesson I was taught - and now bequeath unto you. You are to stand still as this primal beast does to you what he sees fit...And you must not raise your hand or your tongue to reply injury for injury. You must, instead, lose." The room was as cold as ice. "You must beg for mercy...And when Warlord Zhav'vorsa decides you have lost, utterly and completely, he may elect to stop. But whether that takes twoscore minutes and five, or many an hour, I cannot say - and if you maintain any measure of pride or resistance, I may permit him to humble you in ways barbaric even to his people." There was a lump in Coatlec's stomach that began churning and eating at him. Must have been a fear reaction because in the words of Dreadwar, "You stink of fear, Lord Coatlec," he hissed, continuing. "Fear... and piss, and old bones." Well it looks like I'm not making it through after all. I'll just be in the medbay for the rest of my life after this beatdown. This is insanity. "I am ready to lose, my Emperor. The lesson must be learned. This once happened to you. Beaten. Humiliated. But yo rose to prominence through loss. I can do that in due time. But this must be done first," said Coatlec as he prepared for the worst of the worst schoolyard bully beatings in history.
TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Lord Vassago
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Shira
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Post by Shira on Mar 11, 2018 1:06:33 GMT -5
IC: Shira A’dolaThe Triumphant, hyperspace, en route to the Nihil RetreatGlasz eyes watched the interactions between Master and apprentice with keen interest. Much could be discovered of a person between the relationship of such a pairing and she needed to know as much about these two as possible. She noted he watched her closely as she sipped on her drink, both amused and pacified to know he read the action’s intent clearly. She listened closely as he introduced themselves, noting idly that they did not immediately sit down. The pause in setting her glass back to the desk and the blink of her eyes was the only indication of her shock as he named them both. Vassago. The Jedi did not teach of the Sith so far as using them as examples of what not to do, but Sistros had schooled her intensely in all sects of the Force, as well as their histories. Vassago had created the Sith Order, set the building blocks for what would become an Empire. She cast about with the Force, frowning, but she found no deceit within the man. The Sith Lord, she amended to herself. As such, his claim of Force Storm held little surprise to her, nor did the cautionary warning in his tone. The clink of crystal upon glass cut through the silence as her glass was set gently down; Shira recovered her astonishment and Vassago seemed to be hesitant in choosing what to tell her. After a few moments he described his intent to find some form of rare peddler, his pale hazel eyes looking directly into her own cautious grey. Liar.She hardly needed the Force to identify this as untruth. She looked at him a long while, eyes narrowed a touch and lips turned ever-so-faintly in a frown. One so skilled as the founder of the New Sith Order would hardly risk such a costly power to find someone so minute as an artefact merchant. Arguments turned in her head for several seconds, debating about pushing the issue further, but she decided against it. For now.
“As for you and I, Mistress Shira, you’ve nothing to fear from us.” Sabba smiled her. Shira had not missed the protective glance he had thrown his student. A small smile was returned to Sabba and she took another sip of rum, twirling the glass thoughtfully. “Nor do you have anything to fear from me. I will put strict instructions down regarding your treatment here. Living quarters will be granted to you shortly. I assume you will want a single room?” Slim fingers tapped the desk absentmindedly, debating the use of a guard, but she put the thought aside. “You boarded our ship for a reason. I assume you know where we are headed? Or the dangers that follow us?”
TAG: Lord Vassago , Darth Dreadwar
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Post by kurtishenschel on Mar 11, 2018 10:56:28 GMT -5
IC: Karina Hold of the Artificer, Federation checkpoint Karina wasn't ready for the Jedi to fire and got hit in the side. Luckily it didn't anywhere vital but was more than enough to knock her down. Hitting her head on the bulkhead Karina's vision blurred a little and the room spun a little as she tried to regain focus. Shaking her head a little she grabbed the blaster and used the agents corpse to steady her aim as she laid the weapon across it's back and aimed for the back of the Jedi's knee. She figured the first shot could being him down and the second could kill if needed. Flinching she ducked down as bolts bounced around the room making it obvious that they'd have to time their shots better. Growling a little as a bolt hit her prosthetic which she just cleaned Karina fired off a shot now aimed for the Jedi's spine while voidwalker kept the force user distracted. Tags: Darth Dreadwar Darth Voidwalker |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2018 11:17:30 GMT -5
IC: Jania Kio Location: The Wall of Prophecy, Tomb of Naga Sadow, Korriban Jania would listen to what they were saying about the wall as she wanted to collect as much information as possible. When the room seemed to come alive right before her eyes she sighed as she figured yet another thing was trying to kill them already. “Really? Can’t we please just catch a break for once. I mean I do plan on getting out this Tomb alive.” She got out in all one breath before readying herself for action. When the disc came towards her she decided to try out her new powers in the force. Reaching out one of her hands and using the force she hoped to lower the speed of the disc so dodging lower than the blades trajectory. Once the blade had passed over her she lunged forward while pulling her training blade as she was going to deal with these things that were attacking them all. She was hoping that rushing in and catching the skeletons off guard would be good enough to land attacks on a couple of them. She would employ the techniques her true master had engrained in her and hopefully the others would think it was just her natural skill and wouldn’t get suspicious. Tag: Darth Dreadwar, Volshe, Shira, Padawan4687, dice, Darth Catalyst, gorzan |
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Post by Lord Vassago on Mar 11, 2018 22:31:16 GMT -5
IC: Darth Vassago & SabbaAboard The Triumphant, hyperspace, en route to the Nihil Retreat“ No,” Vassago stated plainly, breathing a laugh to himself, “ I’ll require private quarters for the remainder of this trip.” A part of him was surprised Shira had made such an assumption of the type of relationship that he and Sabba shared, thinking they may be physically involved, something beyond just Master and Apprentice. Though, he couldn’t wholly blame her for the thought, it likely crept into the minds of many. His Apprentice lacked nothing in terms of beauty, but he had no use for her in such a capacity, he only meant to pass on his knowledge, nothing more. “ However,” he began again, leaning forward into the light overhead “ I must insist that Sabba be allowed to stay with you, in your quarters.” He reached forward again, wrapping his aged fingers around the glass full of the amber liquid, and met Shira’s stare. “ The girl is fond of you,” he said with a gesture, tipping the glass toward Sabba. The young woman sheepishly looked down at her feet, bringing the tips of her toes together, then up toward her Master. She was embarrassed, but only slightly. It was no surprise that her Master had picked up on the fondness she had for Shira, the woman that aided her without hesitation when she was injured in the shaft of the elevator. She rather liked the idea of being able to spend time with Lady Shira. The Dark Lord nodded his head softly and took a small sip of the Rum. Again, his eyebrows piqued up, the aged liquid was sweet with an undertone he could only place as being mahogany. He slowly dragged the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip as he finished the sip, placing the half-full glass back to the desk. “ To answer your question, yes,” he turned his attention back to Shira, paying little mind to the tapping of her fingers on the surface of the desk, “ my information is quite thorough. I’m aware of the perils of the system to which you travel, just the same as you. Though, I think we can both agree, I am well equipped to handle such perils.” His voice trailed a bit, the haunting tone surely not lost on her. There was little need for Shira to worry about the Dark Lord or his Apprentice, as he handily dealt with the cultists that gave Shira and her entire crew a stiff challenge. TAG: Shira , Darth Dreadwar
IC: Warlord Zhav'vorsa Imperial Medbay, Sith Temple, KorribanLose and become stronger, the Warlord thought to himself, trying to process the idea in his head but failed. He huffed a laugh through parted lips, a sardonic smile crossing his mouth. He shook his head in disapproval, his long hair, pulled back in to a tail and clasped with silver and gold rings, swayed slowly across his back with the movement. The ghostly man spoke of an odor, one of piss and old bones, and Zhav’vorsa inhaled deeply through a nose that had been broken more times than he could count, taking in the unmistakable aroma of fear. He felt a surge travel up his spine, a tingle like lightning, that made his back and neck tighten, and his eyes glow. His heart beat quickened, he could feel the muscles in his jaw clench, and his forearms became stiff with muscle. The scent of fear was intoxicating; knowing well that an opponent, whether it be a mighty warrior or a lowly, broken old man, feared for his life, feared that the Warlord would be the one to take it was like an addictive drug. The thrill of it for Zhav’vorsa, for those in his culture, was almost arousing. The eldritch figure had made clear that the lesser Lord was to lose, that he was to do all but die, and learn from it. Rather than a dojo, there would be one man…Zhav’vorsa. The thought of not only beating, but humiliating this stale old man filled the Warlord with amusement. He knew the man would be no challenge even if he was allowed to fight, but to be told to take whatever comes to him and simply learn? The poor creature was in for a rough lesson. The crisp, clean sound of Zhav’s blade leaving the floor panel rang high, and he hefted his mighty sword over his shoulder. He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the Sith Lord, and puffed up his his broad chest, streaked with war paint. When he reached Coatlec, he intentionally pushed into the smaller man, causing him to stumble backward a step or two. A light grunt jumped from Zhav’vorsa’s mouth, and his eyes narrowed watching Coatlec stumble. Before he could fully regain his composure, Zhav stepped into Coatlec’s space again; there was hardly two inches between the two men. He turned his piercing amber gaze down to this shamed, disgraced Lord, and curled his upper lip. “ My people have no word for remorse, for regret. ‘Sorry’ does not exist. When a man shames himself, he must grovel at the foot of the man that he offended,” the Warlord paused for a moment, his free hand brushing against his own chest “ you pushed into me, but you are not worthy to touch the Warlord.” He turned his face away from Coatlec for a moment, looking down the razor sharp blade of his sword, laid carefully across his shoulders. Slowly, his gaze fell back to Coatlec and he stepped back, his head motioning down to his dirt crusted boots. “ On your knees, whelp,” he commanded. The Warlord retched, pulling in through his nostrils, and his throat rumbled with a guttural bellow before he spat a thick, heavy mass of snot onto one of his boots. The moment the collection of fluids hit his boot with a splat, he did it again for the other. “ Grovel, little warrior,” he growled, a sharp smile crossing his lips. TAG: Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror Darth Dreadwar
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Shira
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Post by Shira on Mar 11, 2018 22:59:57 GMT -5
IC: Shira A’dolaThe Triumphant, hyperspace, en route to the Nihil RetreatBrows quirked up in surprise at Vassago’s requested arrangements. She hadn’t expected that the Sith would easily lose sight of his apprentice considering how firmly he’d demanded she accompany them to Shira’s study. “I had assumed you’d want to keep an eye on Sabba. You seem very protective of her. Rest assured she’ll be safe with me. I’d be honoured to share my quarters with her.” Shira smiled at Sabba, quietly flattered at the younger woman’s liking for her. Truthfully she was pleased with the arrangements; she had developed a liking for Vassago’s student in the short time they’d been aboard. “I’ll have someone bring in a second cot and give you my door-code soon.”Lips twitched faintly in a smile as she noted the man’s subtly surprised reaction to his drink. Shira was a practical woman, but there were a handful of things she kept in high quality, her drinks being among them. After years spent in the courts of high society, she had developed quite an expensive palate. “To answer your question, yes.” Shira returned her attention to Vassago as he resumed speaking. “My information is quite thorough. I’m aware of the perils of the system to which you travel, just the same as you. Though, I think we can both agree, I am well equipped to handle such perils.”She frowned, suspicion threading through her thoughts. “As far as our intel serves, there are few who know where we are,” she stated carefully. “The Empress being chief among them. Sistros, another. However, it is unlikely even they are aware of what pursues us. Who gave you this information?” Though the Force gave no warning for alarm, she felt ill at ease knowing there were others who knew their whereabouts. TAG: Lord Vassago
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Padawan4687
Imperial Intelligence
.: Empress' Sword / Director of Intelligence
Posts: 133
Likes: 112
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Post by Padawan4687 on Mar 12, 2018 10:01:02 GMT -5
IC: Alisha Tano
The Triumphant, hyperspace en route to the Nihil RetreatThe thought alone of leaving Shira alone to deal with the two strangers brought a frown to Alisha’s face. There was more than enough disdain brought to her attention today, did they really need more reason to doubt her authority especially now with their late Empress present? Between the blow to her head, the destruction of the entirety of her mental defenses, and the blood slowly seeping through her clothes, Alisha was divided between wanting to remain and collapsing for a full rotation of sleep in a bacta tank. Admiral Gederp took over from there, taking Alisha by the arm and practically pulling her away. Several people were trying to reach her through the Force all at once… a lovely little side effect of Nox’s little act of treason and she felt yet another rush of anger and pain just thinking about it. Kriff, stop that! She sighed, holding her head with one hand in sullen silence. Despite her outward silence, she was extending her senses to the best of her ability to let those linked to her that she was all right. // … Kriff, everything, Alisha! What happened? What was that face, and that name?!// Xal’den’s familiar voice came to her in a shout seconds after the channel was open, //I’ve been trying to reach you!// Clearly, her attempt to quietly pacify flew by ineffectively. //…I know, I know… I’m sorry.// Alisha winced, still holding her head. Every telekinetic word he said felt like another thorn shoved directly into her skull… //It… hurts to talk like this.//He was silent to this, but Alisha could feel a tendril, amber-colored this time, slowly creeping along toward her. She knew exactly who’s influence it was, and it was easy enough for her to guess why- Xal’s way of finding her location without causing any more pain -but she winced again. It quickly receded, and Alisha pulled her attention back to the world outside and the railjet she now sat in. She wouldn’t offer her arm again, and crossed them tightly against her chest as she walked with the Admiral to show just how much she didn’t want to be held and guided again. //Okay…// Xal’den telepathic voice returned, much quieter. //I’m going to come see you.// Just as Shira suggested… did she contact him while leading the strangers around? Alisha doubted it, but…she had to breathe a sigh of relief once the talking stopped. Otherwise, she’d have two separate conversations to carry and she didn’t think she could manage at a time like this. The Medical Bay noise was more than enough of a total assault on her physical senses. Alisha looked around at the dozens of rushing medical staff treating the injured with a frown. …she needed to get back out there as soon as possible. She hardly needed all of this! “Doctor,” Alisha nodded to him, finally allowing her arms to go loose. “… I took a blow to the head earlier,” she admitted first, wanting to get the worst over with, “But other than that, just a few new scratches.” Alisha gently tugged on her torn and bloodied sleeve to show the cut beneath to be seen, adding, “It looks worse than it is.”TAG: Darth Dreadwar ,
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Mar 14, 2018 17:23:28 GMT -5
IC: Doctor Ken LakThe Triumphant , medbay, hyperspace"If I'm not needed, Doctor," Captain Gederp interjected, tugging at his uncomfortable collar, "I'll just..." Ken Lak nodded, waving his hand distractedly as he took Alisha's hand in his own, raising her arm slightly to look at the cut she presented him. "Yes, yes, take care, Captain," Lak said, frowning as he put on latex gloves and began closely inspecting what Lady Tano described as a 'scratch.' As the heels of Gederp's boots clicked away as he left the medbay, Lak poked and prodded around the cut, before letting go of Alisha's hand, looking at her neutrally. "Well, Lady Tano," he said in a voice a little too quiet for the noise and bustle around him, "we can't be too careful, can we? So take a seat over there please," he pointed at a metal stool beside a computer console that appeared to be his own, "and we'll get your vitals." Lak withdrew a small duranium orb from the pocket of his jacket, and raised it to Alisha's eye level. Depressing a button on its side, the orb separated slightly, exposing a hemispherical trench filled with wiring. A red light projected from the centre of the orb, cascading over Alisha first as a diffuse glow, and then crystallising into a grid-like lattice that scintillated over Alisha's form from the tips of her montrals to the tips of her toes. Once the positron matrix scan was complete, the orb projected a hologram displaying an infrared depiction of Alisha herself alongside rows of Aurebesh lettering. "Hm," Lak frowned, reading over the results. "Well, your blood pressure is a little low, 89 over 58. Heart rate is 105 BPM, so slight tachycardia too, although that would be expected with the stress and anxiety of battle." He glanced up, looking at Alisha over his spectacles. "Your temperature is 37.5 Standard, so you're getting close to running a slight fever." Lak pocketed the orb and crossed his arms, raising one finger to his chin. "When did you take a blow to the head, and when did you get cut? And have you had any respiratory symptoms, nasal congestion over the last few days? Flu-like, cold-like symptoms?" TAG: Padawan4687
IC: Ermir MarcusPassageway, Dungeons of the Sith Temple, KorribanErmir was frankly impressed with Arcane's response. Perhaps there are brains beneath all that fur after all. "Now that's a smart plan," the Sith Master nodded, stroking his chin absently. "It'll be unlikely our retrieval of the heavier equipment would even be noticed in those circumstances, given that I am also quartermaster in this Temple." He nodded, and began walking briskly back down the passageway in the direction of his classroom, gesturing at the Cathar to follow him. "But you do raise a good point," he said in a hushed voice, slowing so that he could lean in towards Arcane, "about whether the usage of such equipment might be noticed. Creating a field to dampen sound is a technique within my capabilities, but the vibrations may be felt higher up. We might want to find some excuse to bar passageway into the dungeons completely, some sort of excuse that would account for any shaking." TAG: Arcane
IC: Jedi ShadowHold of the Artificer , Federation checkpoint, spaceA warning screamed in the Force. Behind you! The aetheric strands of the great energy were tugging at his spine, yet the glow of red-hot danger was diffuse, and the Jedi Shadow had no time to probe the Force deeper as Voidwalker leaped out from behind the overturned chair and, with a dramatic taunt, brought his lightsaber in a wicked slash towards the Jedi's neck. But the Jedi had ears, and the cacophonous mixture of lightsaber ignition and blaster discharge was unmistakable, coming from behind him just as his greatest ally warned - The Jedi ducked, letting Voidwalker's plasmic beam pass harmlessly over his head. Reversing the grip on his lightsaber pistol, the Jedi brought it behind him in one easy motion to intercept where the Force vibrated most frantically. The humming blade intercepted the lightsaber of Garn Tarcrulus, the late Dark Jedi's weapon having been hurled by Draven at the Jedi's back, batting it away to catch the blaster bolt Karina had shot at his spine. But the diffuseness of the Force's warning became apparent all too late - lesser, lower down! - as Draven's second lightsaber, its ignition having been disguised by the ignition of Garn's, sliced the Jedi's lower legs out from under him at the calves. Karina's blaster bolt to the knee only added insult to injury, as the Jedi toppled forwards, his lightsaber rolling away from twitching fingers as he landed on the hold's deck with a thud and a scream of pain. The Jedi Shadow was defeated. TAG: Darth Voidwalker , kurtishenschel
COMBO WITH DARKHERMIT AND GORZANIC: Tarpy, Lemmy and KintSoon to be an oven, Ninushodojinyaut , dead space"Kint," Lemmy continued pressing the same button frantically as he spoke, hoping the tarp was wrong and that it would do something if he pushed enough, "what do you wanna do? I'm outta ideas beyond blow the door or hole up in here. I don't do well in an oven. Makes my lekku shrivel. I ain’t about to be sushi today!" Kint felt the heat beginning to rise, and began doubting he had interpreted the symbols correctly. "Stop pressing that!" he used the Force to try to knock Lemmy's hand away from the button. He began looking around. Was it a heating system? or, was it actual fire? Fire would explain the lack of noise from the black oil outside.... but what was happening? Were there just flamethrowers mounted in the hallway? Kint turned to Lemmy. "I think it's time to get the hell out of here. What do you think?" The heat continued to rapidly increase. Sweat-inducing was an understatement. This was becoming blistering. This was becoming dangerous. And with sufficient heat, anything burned. "Enough talk!" The tarp squealed. "Blow the kriffing door and run the opposite direction, before we all die!" The stomping was growing louder still. Whatever lurked outside could only be a dozen meters away, now. TAG: Darth Catalyst , gorzan
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Volshe
Administrator
.: Empress
Posts: 229
Likes: 163
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Post by Volshe on Mar 14, 2018 21:09:40 GMT -5
IC: Darth Viscretus / Empress Volshe The False Tomb of Naga Sadow / The Triumphant / The Mind of Nox
The Empress did not so much as change her expression. Whomever this “ guest” was in the mind of Nox, he was not wise. If that were not obvious from his conduct. She released a puff of air through her teeth, a short hiss, retaining her stern gaze. Then stepped forward. The illusion took a moment to appear around them, the sluggish response tugging upon her mind, warning her of overstretch. It was another seemingly palacial setting - yet this one a grey-toned courtyard, a dark, frigid night clawing talons of shadow reaching into the area they stood. A small once-retreat, filled with nothing but crumbling stone and ashes, lit with a lamp of miasmic colour. “ On the contrary, foolish one,” she sneered, “ neither of you survives.” Patience wearing thin, she rose a obsidian lacquered finger, her eyes matching the lamp and burning with similar sickly flame. She did not intend to play this game with him. Her curiosity could be sated other ways than playing some utterly unimportant game of chess with some utterly unimportant creature. He would see her pause, time no object - a plaything - that meandered through the illusions wrought, clashing with the constant rush of reality roaring by beyond. The Triumphant would see her serene features twist into concern and heavy focus, her eyes just as glazed in focus. “ Look out!” She called, the cry ringing out and echoing against both durasteel walls and crumbling stone - her mind retreating to the tomb once more, maintaining a tenuous connection with the Triumphant. Metal discs shot forward, a roar of Sith zombies, an unending barrage upon her nearly overwhelmed senses. Her reaction delayed by her split-mindedness, she stepped aside from an imminent fate of metallic doom, and spun around to examine the passage walls before returning to her . The others had already reacted - Catalyst shoving the undead as Xirr worked to do the same, the twin Kevala slashing the disc that had aimed for her pale neck aside. She ignited the glow-rod once more to shed light upon the cursed chamber. Her eyes rapidly scanned the tomb, walls swimming before her with the strain of maintained connection, her mind reaching out with what little reserve she had to scan on the level of whatever Sith had created such monstrosities to greet them - hoping to find some answer in the darkness as the others fought the undead away. TAG: Darth Dreadwar , Shira , Darth Catalyst , Padawan4687 , dice, @lordjania TAGSET: Triumphant/UR and TAGSET: False Tomb of Naga Sadow
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Post by Darth Dreadwar on Mar 14, 2018 23:08:36 GMT -5
IC: Darth ApollyonThe Wall of Prophecy, False Tomb of Naga Sadow, KorribanDarth Apollyon had no time to react. Her mind was elsewhere, occupied by the puzzle of the wall, weighed down by the despondent thought that if the corpses behind them had not solved the puzzle despite surely many days trying, their chances of escaping this sealed passageway were bleak indeed. And so, as the deadly lanvarok discs pinwheeled towards her neck, she had not even the time to summon her lightsaber to her hand. It would be that giant Gen'Dai who would prove her unlikely saviour. In a moment of heroism that frankly looked ridiculous, the monster leapt forward with arms and legs outstretched, exploiting his own nigh-invulnerability in order to save as many from the discs as possible. As it was, Neoplix took out all three discs heading for him, the three that had nearly been Apollyon's bane and one that had been intended for Viscretus. Kevala swiped a second from its trajectory towards the blonde Sith Lady, leaving the distracted Viscretus to only dodge one; Scionica, meanwhile, would be relieved to feel no telltale sign of sudden dizziness or weakness that betrayed poison, indicating the only risk from the rusty sword that had shallowly sliced her back would be a mundane infection such as tetanus. Scionica, Catalyst, Jania and Xirr, having dealt with the first round of attacks with varying degrees of success, were the first to go on the offensive, while Apollyon ripped her lightsaber from her belt and ignited it with a cry of fear and fury. Xirr was frantic in his struggle with the ghoul that accosted him, but his telekinetic flail was aided by Catalyst's more strategic blasts, and the skeleton fell promptly on its back with a clatter of bone and dust, buying Xirr time to get to his feet. The skeleton attempted to rise, but was buffeted by the next volley of telekinetic power streaming from Catalyst's hand, blowing it, and the five other undead, several meters down the passageway. As a result, Scionica's jab with the electrostaff missed, the skull of the longdead warrior attacking the twins receding along with the entire skeleton ahead of her stab courtesy of Catalyst. Jania, however, charging towards the revenants rather than hanging back like the others, was able to successfully make physical contact. To no avail. The zombies were only just rising again from the passage floor when she reached them, succeeding in catching them off-guard, but stabbing was pointless when one's blade merely slipped through the emptiness between bones, and slashing them appeared to make no difference. Ribs, arms, legs - they did not even make any move to defend themselves from the attacks of her training blade, instead using the opening in her defenses to attack her. One swung its sword towards her neck, another jabbed the tip of its wicked halberd towards her breast, and another swung at her thigh with the claws of its bony digits. One zombie - the only one with skin - broke away, slipping past Jania to attack Neoplix just as his wounds knitted closed. It had no weapon, but it launched itself towards him nonetheless, its teeth seeking Neoplix's neck. The other four, only two bearing weapons, were still on their backs, Catalyst's attack having bought the team a few seconds of breathing room. For all the good it did them. It was at that moment that Apollyon's torch sputtered out, and the Sith Lady instantly realised that she had been foolish indeed to trust in an ensorcelled torch the tomb had provided. Its flame had been eerily eternal, seemingly having burned in its sconce throughout the millennia, and it was clearly configured to go out at the most inopportune moment. It was sheer fortune Viscretus had activated her glow-rod merely seconds before, meaning the passageway was not plunged into complete blackness, but Viscretus' search through the Force would return only the most disquieting result: pouring through the alchemised rock of the wall, in spite of the alchemy's Force-negating properties, was the unmistakable pall of ancient dark side power, echoing across the centuries - but potent still. There was something on the other side of that wall, and it was something powerful beyond measure. And as her glow-rod began to flicker, it would become obvious proximity to such a nexus of dark side energy was having its little-known but characteristic effect on electronic equipment, the same effect that had been the doom of the Morthi when it had landed on Korriban, the same effect that had doomed the Jynni's Virtue and its crew at the Valley of Golg a century prior. Not even Apollyon's lightsaber was safe; it, too, began to hiss and sputter. The team surely had only seconds left before all light died in the passageway - their most precious weapons included. Apollyon uttered the most obscene word found in Huttese for the first time in her life. "Fierfek." TAG: Darth Catalyst , @lordjania , gorzan , dice , Padawan4687 , Shira , Volshe
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Post by Sedriss Nathemus the Conqueror on Mar 15, 2018 0:36:07 GMT -5
IC: Darth Coatlec
Location: Imperial Medbay, Sith Temple, Korriban
Coatlec was filled with fear of the large brutish man that was drawing near to him. Yah, this is the end. I'm going to die here. I guess I'll sleep when I'm dead. There's no way this old body can take many blows from this guy. Perhaps I could have tanked some hits before Viscretus got a hold of me. But not anymore. Kriff. As the brute continued drawing close, his mighty shoulder plowed into Coatlec's chest, knocking him off balance and causing him to stumble backwards. But as he caught his bearings, Zhav'vorsa was in his space yet again. Shit. This won't end any time soon.
As the Warlord came within two inches of the Sith Lord, his voice fell from his lips in a rather condescending, yet maniacal tone, at least in the mind of Coatlec. "My people have no word for remorse, for regret. ‘Sorry’ does not exist. When a man shames himself, he must grovel at the foot of the man that he offended," the strong voice emanated. There was a slight pause. Then the man continued, "you pushed into me, but you are not worthy to touch the Warlord." He then looked down towards his dirt-laden black boots and commanded Coatlec to kneel. Oh kriff. Am I gonna have to kiss his feet? But that was, of course, not the extent of it. A bellow and belch escaped Zhav'vorsa's massive throat and two puddles of snot now adorned his boots. "Grovel, little warrior." Oh you've got to be shitting me. It wasn't bad enough that his boots were dirty. Now they're snotty, spit-ridden, and dirty. Here I go. Coatlec dropped to his knees with a thud. He looked down at the grotesque top of the boots and had a slight gag. "Warlord," Coatlec said. "You are so much greater than I. I am not worthy to touch you. However, I should do this as a show of your greatness." The bastard bent down and kissed both feet, taking in a mouthful of snotty dirt. Eugh. As he looked back up to the brute's face he said, "I am a mere speck of spittle in your presence, o great Warlord."
TAG: Darth Dreadwar, Lord Vassago
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248
Likes: 276
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Mar 15, 2018 13:45:31 GMT -5
IC Darth Catalyst Beneath Sadow's tomb, Korriban
Catalyst smirked as the monstrosities of the tomb fell before his telekinetic assault. The Gen’Dai may have taken a more sacrificial approach to protecting the rest of the Lords, but Catalyst felt far more confident in his offensive solution to the attackers. The rest of the party seemed equally ineffective. One of the assassins took a swing and missed, Xirr and Shaire were still scrambling to their feet and Viscretus simply activated her glow rod. The acolyte, Kio, showed some fire and charged towards the undead with her training saber alight. This one shows some ferocity, perhaps with proper guidance...
His own lightsaber drew his attention. The normally bright flare of orange was now flickering and sputtering. He frowned and rapped the hilt with his hand, trying ineffectually to keep the blade glowing. It died in his hand, the plasma arc reduced to a shower of weak sparks. He sighed and hung it back on his belt. Guess we’re doing this the old fashioned way. He curled his hands into fists. There was some absurdity in the thought of punching these skeletons into submission. He was now thankful that Viscretus had lit up the cave, if only with a dim glow. It was still better than total darkness. A grin tugged at the edge of his mouth. He drew one of his fists up to his chest, concentrating on the Dark Side. He was not as skilled as the likes of Viscretus or Apollyon in the art of Force Lightning, but he could still conjure enough to add to the ambiance of the room. He could see Jania down the hall still, now under attack by multiple skeletons. He sent an arc of lightning towards one of the exposed skulls. The puzzle would have to wait, or perhaps be solved by one of the more knowledgeable Lords.
TAG: Darth Dreadwar ,Volshe ,@lordjania ,Shira ,Padawan4687 ,dice ,gorzan
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248
Likes: 276
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Mar 15, 2018 17:02:29 GMT -5
IC D-3PO and the Tranquility Crew Docking bay 418, Nar Shaddaa
Reaper’s telekinetic outburst was enough to prevent D-3PO and the others from getting a good view of his uncovered face, though it seemed to have the added effect of turning half of the eyes, and a couple guns in the hanger his way. D-3PO reminded himself to rescan the image packets his photoreceptors picked up at a later time. No doubt, a framed shot of Reaper’s face would look quite distinguished above Mighty Kubjo’s throne.
Then he stepped forward towards Feros, alongside Corvar. He removed his mask once again, much to the confusion of the silver droid. The next few seconds would only confuse the droid further. Corvar, ever the reasonable one it seemed, tried to parlay with the crew of the Tranquility for the girl. "I don't want to have to hurt you unnecessarily," he said, keeping his voice level, "but you have to come with us. Surrender peacefully and I will bargain with Feros for the lives of this crew." The girl simply turned to him, staring back with empty eyes as if she was looking into him. She did not speak, but it seemed she was looking to avoid confrontation as much as possible.
Reaper spoke next, but addressed Captain Jag. "The Miraluka shall come with us and you shall all leave. Never to be bothered by us again. Sound fair Captain?" The Correllian was not in the least comforted by Reaper’s attempt at diplomacy and kept his weapon trained on Feros. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short as Feros faced him and began talking.
"Captain Reyn,” the Sith Lord addressed him with a tone of superiority, “one of us isn't leaving here alive. You've seen my face, and you know who I'm affiliated with and who I work for. Either you and your crew, or I, have to die. I wish I could say I'm sorry. But I'm not." The captain met his gaze, time seemed to stand still for a second between the two men. Captain Jag knew that a fight was going to happen. He might even die today.
“Well I am.” These were Captain Jag’s last words before Darth Feros attacked. He raced forward, carried by the Force. A graceful slash drew the crimson blade of his lightsaber across the captain’s midsection, only for it to bounce back against the Cortosis-weave armor that Feros had spotted earlier peeking from under the captain’s duster.
The unmistakable sound of blaster fire rang out, paired with two deafening cracks. While Feros noted that the power packs of the Besalisk’s pistols were uncharged, he had failed to notice the true reason behind it: the pistols were in fact slugthrowers merely disguised to look like blasters, employing an explosive chemical reaction to fire a small cone of metal instead of a bolt of plasma. Two of these were sailing through the air at supersonic speed towards Feros, along with two bright blue blaster bolts. The roar of engines soon drowned out the sound of combat though, for behind the crew, their ship was activating its engines. The Miraluka covered her ears and let out another shriek of fear and pain. A wave of the Force radiated from her, threatening to fling Reaper and Corvar into the walls of the hangar bay. The Zeltron began sprinting back to the boarding ramp of the ship while the chaos broke out around him. Near the bay entrance, onlookers began congregating to watch the battle unfold.
TAG: darthkain7, trentongordon, darthferos
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Post by darthkain7 on Mar 15, 2018 17:59:51 GMT -5
IC: Darth KainLocation: Nar ShaddaaCorvar had felt through the Force the Miraluka girl's buildup of fear and pain, two types of fuel for the dark side. But he hardly expected her to unleash it in a Force Scream directly at him, the man trying to help her the most in this dire situation. He soared straight into a wall in the hangar bay, his ribs nearly cracking at the impact. He dropped to the ground, landing on his knees and gripping his side, steadying himself as he shakily stood. "That... was not pleasant," he muttered before slowly approaching the girl once more, still not brandishing his lightsaber yet, but now ready to defend himself in case she unleashed her power once more. "I can't save your friends if you try to hurt me," Corvar spoke calmly. "I need your help to save your friends, and that can only be done if you come with me willingly. This is the last chance I can afford to give you before Feros ends the lives of your friends." Simultaneously, Corvar nodded to Reaper, silently telling him to aid Feros in combat. Darth Catalyst darthferos trentongordon TAGSET: Corbos
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Post by darthferos on Mar 15, 2018 18:10:27 GMT -5
IC: Darth Feros Docking Bay 418 Nar Shaddaa Feros just stood for a second, mouth agape. Then he heard the cracks. Slug Thrower. He felt his danger sense tickle and moved his blade to bat the slugs and blaster bolts away. They had attacked him. Now he was going to kill all of them. Maybe even the Miraluka girl. Maladi hadn't said anything about her. And she reeked of the light. No reason to let her live. Darth Feros saw the Zeltron running up the ramp of the ship. No no, that wouldn't work. He reached out with the Force, fueled by his anger at being assaulted, and crushed closed the exhaust ports of the freighter. No escaping for this crew. They were all going to die. Feros filled himself with the Dark Side. He wouldn't be stopped by armor this time. He spun quickly, far too fast for a normal eye to see, his lightsaber aimed right at the Captain's neck. This one wouldn't miss. At the same time he spun, he reached out to Reaper through the Force. "I don't know who you are, but kill the Besalisk, or my Lady is going to teach both of us a new meaning of Pain." He also reached out to Corvar. "Will you ignite that karking lightsaber and kill something already? Or are you just going to waste all that Dark Side energy you've built up?" But more than anything, Feros focused on the hilt of his saber. Waiting to feel the inevitable bite of it searing through flesh. It had been too long since he had felt battle. Finally. He was home. Darth Catalyst darthkain7 trentongordon |
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Post by trentongordon on Mar 15, 2018 18:58:08 GMT -5
IC: Reaper Location: Nar Shaddaa Reaper had heard both of them. One said aid the other and the other said to just kill the Besalisk. All he knew was he was very angry by the little girl hurting his ears. He held on by one hand until the little girl quit screaming. He got up and looked around for his mask so he could put it back on but it was nowhere to be seen. That angered him even more he nodded at Corvar and then at Feros then looked at the Besalisk. "I'm going to make you my slave and I'm going to name you Mr. Popo you know that Besalisk? How about we do this the old fashioned way. No weapons just hand to hand?" He removed his lightsaber and tossed it into the ship. He'd retrieve it after this battle. He then wrapped the silk around he waist to simply have it somewhere other than his face. His eyes turned a fiery red with flakes of blue showing a true fire. "Now you discard your weapon." He had put a bit of Mind Trick into his voice to convince him and with it he put an underlying will to become Mr PoPo and to become Reaper's Slave. "You will bow to my will PoPo. I promise you that." He readied into his stance, one of both offense and defense that allowed for him to utilize his height and his agility. He never let the heel of his feet touch the ground and he bounced on his toes. "Let's go PoPo." Tag: Darth Catalyst, darthkain7, darthferos |
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Darth Catalyst
Citizen
Dark Lord Immortalis & High Inquisitor
.: Chaos and Cunning
Handling the Hand
Posts: 248
Likes: 276
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Post by Darth Catalyst on Mar 16, 2018 16:40:03 GMT -5
IC Tranquility Crew Docking Bay 418, Nar Shaddaa
The few moments that Feros paused to take in the situation gave the Captain enough time to get further away from the Sith. As Feros used the Force to start mangling his ship, Jag grimaced. This was not going the way he wanted. He reached into the pocket of his duster and placed his hand around a small sphere, sliding his thumb along the activation switch. Feros came spinning towards him; the plasma blade of his lightsaber nicked his neck, causing the captain to clench his jaw and grunt in pain. He took the opportunity to quickly fire a blaster bolt at Feros’s thigh, a shot that would be difficult to block while Feros was held in the momentum of his swing. “Are you sure you wanna do this son?” he asked one last time through gritted teeth. “It ain’t gonna end pretty for either of us.” The familiar beeping of a primed thermal detonator chimed.
Further away, the Besalisk simply looked at Reaper like he was a madman. The fleeing Zeltron watched Reaper’s lightsaber skitter past him into the ship. Without a second thought he scooped it up and kept running for the cockpit. As Reaper bounced on the toes of his boots like a professional fighter, his words echoed in the Besalisk’s head. Drop. Fight. Popo. Slave. The last word seemed to trigger something in the four armed hulk. He roared in anger at Reaper and pointed all of his guns at the man. “SLAVES DON’T GET PAID!” he shouted before letting loose a round of shots from all of his weapons. The bright blue blaster bolt screamed towards Reaper’s face while the two bullets from his pistols were aimed for his chest and groin respectively.
Corvar seemed to be faring better than the other two. His calm words had the effect of making the Miraluka girl somewhat more rational. Instead of lashing out at him again, she simply collapsed to the ground clutching her head and sobbing. “They come when you feel safe,” she babbled quietly into the dirty lot. “They eat your mind and steal your body. Nobody sleeps again. It’s always back, the tears of black.” It seemed safe enough for Corvar to approach her without incurring another outburst.
Above the fight, the ship sputtered but pulled through Feros’s attempt at sabotage. The ramp began to raise and the cannons lowered, pointing down at the combatants in the pit. From the external loudspeakers, the Zeltron’s voice rang over the combatants. “Leave now or we will blow a new crater in this moon.” At the bay entrance, spectators were now actively chatting amongst themselves and pulling out recording devices. A few holodroids hovered above, watching the fighting.
TAG:trentongordon,darthferos,darthkain7,
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Post by darthkain7 on Mar 16, 2018 19:19:37 GMT -5
IC: Darth KainLocation: Nar Shaddaa"They come when you feel safe,” the girl had said. “They eat your mind and steal your body. Nobody sleeps again. It’s always back, the tears of black.”
Corvar could tell the girl was disturbed, but not for no reason beyond something so simple as a genetic disorder. Something had happened to her. Something terrible. And the paranoia was eating away at her like a ferocious beast, making her dread the possibility that whatever had happened to her once upon a time could happen once again. Ignoring Feros' attempts to egg him on, Corvar spoke, "It's time to make a decision," as he knelt beside her. Normally he'd place a hand on her shoulder to set her at ease, but he feared that such stimulus would cause another outburst. And he knew he wouldn't have the patience to deal with her calmly if she screamed at him again. "Your friends don't have long, and I know you don't want to see them hurt. I'd rather not have to, but you'll force my hand unless you come with me. You may not trust me; I doubt you ever will. But trust that I won't hurt you, and so long as you play nice, I won't let anyone else hurt you either." Corvar stood and outstretched his hand, offering it to her. If she took it, he'd immediately move to stop the fighting as best he could. If she refused, either violently or not, he'd make good on his threats. TAGS: Darth Catalyst trentongordon darthferos TAGSET: Corbos
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