Open Invasion Sith Invasion Of Denon

[Talak Rand]

Talak felt his blade snap against the other man's blade as white and red collided, sending sparks showering all around them. He didn't stop his movements, his plan already set on withdrawing.

His foot took a step back and to his own left, withdrawing from his opponent slightly and bringing his blade along with it. His hand rotated and flicked counterclockwise, sending a quick cut around and into a position under his opponent's blade to try to catch him at the groin level.

You've seen through me. You know me so well, he said sarcastically. He felt no need to justify himself to the Sith. He'd spent far too much of his life trying to do that. And yet, he found himself wondering about this one in front of him.

His left hand came around, hoping that the low slash would distract the Sith enough that he'd miss the hit from the Force, aiming to slam the Force into his chest and slam him back into the speeder behind him.

And how's your incredible leader? As worthless as ever? Lurking in its lair and demanding fealty from you? he asked.

 

[Aadya Rasheer]

Aadya couldn't help but chuckle at the ease of which Darth Stolas dealt with the Jedi's feeble attempt to disable the groundsweeper canon that was currently mowing through scores of idiots that were helpless before its onslaught. It didn't surprise her, though. There was a reason she had left the Jedi those years ago. Even the best among them were still.. disappointing.

Catching what blaster fire headed her way with her lightsaber, Aadya would deflect the shots and send them at their sources, smirking as each one found their mark and another soldier keeled over, dying in insignificance. She wondered what happened to all of the dead bodies left over in a place after a battle like this, but shook the thought from her head. Now was not the time for distractions.

With no Jedi threats inherently imminent Aadya steeled herself behind the Darth, the force flowing through her, and readied herself for whatever may come next.

 

[Darth Tiamat]

Anti-air missiles screamed over head as the DDF worked desperately to stop the assault from the Sith invaders. The panic and despair that tore through the streets as the sith forces carved their path. The darkness washed through her body, an extension of her power that she had forged through her trials from her training and devotion to the dark side. It felt stronger in a way unlike what she felt on Ajan Kloss not too long ago, her senses drew to the surreal chill of the Sith Lords in the city, their power made her own feel miniscule. Though there was one she could feel more strongly than others, a bond even after her training remained connected to Raze.

Though, that would not be the only thing she felt, the darkness stirred when she felt another familiar presence not too far from her location. In fact, they seemed to be drawn together at the most unusual and inconvenient moments. He was a Jedi Knight (@Darasuum), one that had known her before she found herself with the Sith. It was not something she could just plainly ignore, her vows as a Sith demanded for her to confront him and it would be decided who was the strongest and who would be able to walk away from this battlefield. It felt as though she were a hound, allowing herself to be drawn to Byron, his presence in the Force was abhorrent to the darkness that claimed this world for itself.

Tiamat would reach out to his presence, the Light cooled with her touch, sending chills throughout his body and he would know who was calling to him. Their paths as awkwardly intertwined as they seemed would come to a critical point and Tiamat saw this a test in her own resolve, her devotion, her strength - she would ensure she would remain standing.

@Darasuum

 

[Morndell Avon]

Death-enabled for Morndell

THEME​

One of his sons had dreamt of this: Of Denon, burning, it's people crying out for help and Death walking blatantly out in the open and taking what was His.

He knew he wasn't technically in charge, but Morndell shouted commands to evacuate civilians, his voice loud and powerful amid the panicked screams of the people. A pair of DG-34 Peacemakers hang holstered on his sides, the vibrosword he favored held aloft in his left hand as he directed the people to safety. His aide Ramone was armed with the same weapons and was standing behind him, on high alert while helping the older Chalactan with evac.

Absolute chaos was all around him, but if there was one thing Morndell was grateful for it was that the one who had been plagued with dreams of Denon, Edmund, was staying on Chalacta at the representative's behest. Should Morndell fall in this battle, someone on their homeworld could fill in on their next leader on their progress of getting Chalacta into the FWA. Edmund, of course, despised being left behind but faced with dishonoring his superior he was left with no choice but to stay. Morndell knew that it was unfair of him to do that to Edmund, but couldn't he be selfish just this once if it was to make sure that one of his sons would remain alive?

He knew the risks of taking a Force-sensitive into this battle, and Morndell would rather have Edmund hate him than have the young man captured and exploited by the Sith. Or worse, have the young aide killed. As for Ramone...

Explosions thundered outside the Capitol building. Morndell turned to face Ramone, one hand finding the younger man's shoulder in a steely grip.

"Help the soldiers with evacuating the citizens," he commanded the aide.

Ramone, already knowing what the determined glint on his superior's eyes meant, returned the latter's stern gaze with equal intensity. "General...?"

"That's an order, Pascal," Morndell stressed, the hand on Ramone's shoulder moving up to cup the aide's face. "Defy this command and you're dishonoring me as your superior." The aide moved to protest but the senator firmly shook his head. If pulling up ranks would ensure the young man's safety, then what was there for Morndell to do?

He patted Ramone on the cheek lightly, smiling at him in assurance. Of course Morndell had no way of knowing the outcome of this battle. It was either he walk out of this alive or not, for Ramone to safely evacuate or die protecting the people, or they both perish doing what was right. What mattered to Morndell was for Denon to come out as the victor of this battle – and for Ramone to return to their homeworld.

"Go, help evacuate as many as you can. Do not come back for me. I will follow you shortly."

Pushing Ramone away, Morndell walked off, weaving in and out of the running crowd as he moved to exit the Capitol to where his friend Max was.

 

[Rishe Vakren]

The sound of boots echoed through the alleys as Rishe rerouted, her force-amplified speed constrained by the biological limitations of those who followed in her wake.

"Repeat; Sith Lord presence."

Tionson's call had been urgent, relayed to her through a local Commbead channel. The east would not hold forever, but with Rishe's touch, it might last longer than it had without. Her robes were pockmarked with laser burns, and her saber still weighed down her hand. It was deactivated, lifeless. Maybe if she was more sympathetic, she would have said the souls of the Imperial troopers were what made it so heavy. But it didn't. She had felt nothing cutting them down. That was disturbing on its own.

The east had been holding well. Or as well as could have been expected. A Jedi - even a lone padawan - running rampant while the streets were bombarded by constant DDF fire was something to give the Sith pause. But now she left it behind, taking with her six members of the DDF who had been suicidal or inspired enough to follow the Jedi. Nothing more than blaster rifles, a few thermal detonators, and an anti-vehicle launcher that had been pilfered from a corpse that fell from the top of a skyscraper. Maybe all of it would be enough for the Padawan to help make a difference.

They'd lost one on their way to the southern streets. The disconnected, chaotic nature of the fighting meant they had to avoid or briefly skirmish against landing Sith troopers. And as they grew closer, Rishe could feel the taint of the dark side growing stronger. A ravenous hunger. Disdain. Authority. Fury. And she was already feeling tired.

Having to trek as far as they did, the fight seemed well under way by the time Rishe and her pilfered support would have arrived. She didn't have direct line of sight, but she could feel the battle erupting. Jedi Masters versus their Sith equivalents.

But before she'd be able to arrive, more imperial troops were cutting off their approach in the street with a hail of blaster fire. In the distance, just visible as it passed by the street, a U-Wing was wreaking havoc, floating unaccounted for as it leisurely pursued the Sith advance, firing into the DDF.

"Follow behind. I want to get you a shot at that fighter." Rishe said to one of the DDF in particular. She didn't know how to use a rocket launcher, much less a blaster. She didn't even know the man's name, and she was telling him to follow her through immense danger to do something that she couldn't. "You two - occupy them here."

She lunged into the alley. The streets were deadly, she knew that well enough. She wasn't a skilled enough Jedi to block every single shot that was coming from the imperials. The two that were supposed to hold in the street weren't going to do much more than distract. But you didn't sacrifice the good cards for a bad hand. Right? Why did it all feel so clinical?

She'd emerge out of the alleys to strike at them with a hissing eruption of her saber, amber light casting across obsidian armor, and the smog-covered Jedi looking like a vagabond rather than an esteemed padawan from the wear and tear.

The Padawan was far from graceful or elegant. She wielded the saber with a blunt force that was barely supported by a mediocre strength in the Force and a rudimentary understanding of the forms. But even with that, if someone was keen enough, they could wreck havoc upon non force sensitives with good timing and some caution.

She had both in spades. The Sith were close - but in a way, they felt distant, occupied by other matters, and not the small gnat of a Padawan who was slowly tearing her way through the distant imperial troops with sudden ambushes, prowling out of the alleys to strike at the main roads like a predator, all the while, the pair of surviving DDF kept to her heels... one of them ready to take the shot if Rishe could just pave a way for him to do so.

@Logan

 

[ElavAlroon]

Elav’Alaroon bowed his head as Darth Raze spoke to him, giving him a single order, to capture the leaders. He was about to ask how many pieces were acceptable before he felt a wave of malice practically blast from the Sith Lord. The Twi’lek quickly wrapped the Force around him and leaped up to the roof of a nearby building before looking back. It seems the Darth had recognised someone he had a history with and the malice was not aimed at Elav’s pause before leaving. The instinctual fear that had gripped him relieved slightly, but it still remained enough to remind him not to question the Sith Lords.

Stretching his arms and legs as if he were to begin a training exercise he quickly let his sense reach out across the battlefield. He felt the presence of all the Sith, several Jedi and so much fear it was almost overwhelming. A smile cracked across his face when he drew the Force towards him again and began to hop across the roofs of the various buildings, circling round to the West, there was only one Force user this way and it seemed surrounded with despair. If he could clear out this Jedi his approach to the central building would be a breeze from this direction.

Elav’Alaroon stopped one roof over from the building the Jedi was in. It seemed to be slightly more fortified than the other buildings, perhaps a guardpost or barracks. That would explain the huge amounts of terror flowing from within like the torrent after a dam broke, soldiers of peacetime were never ready when war finally came to find them. The Sith looked at the taller building to the side of the fortified one, “I wonder just how fortified you are in there, Jedi.” He reached out with the Force at the supports of the taller building and within moments the rending of metal and cracking of glass rang through the air as he began to warp and crush the supports.

The small smile slowly widened and crept along his face as the building began to lean and then fall onto the smaller building. Only a few pieces that had broken away first and then the entire mass slammed down. The Twi’lek stood on his rooftop perch watching, waiting to see if the Jedi, or anyone managed to escape from the rubble.

@The Steel Stag

 

[Vahn Berand]

“What’s the plan, Boss?” it was Narn, the Nautolan. He had approached with the rest of the man, blaster in one hand, and nursing a blaster wound to the shoulder with a bacta laced compress with the other. Vahn smiled. Even he was willing to fight. Good. He would need every man.

Vahn peeked around the corner of the entryway to the facility. The suspended duracrete skyway parallel to the data processing center was clear, save for the wreckage of far too many speeders and terrestrial He thought he saw some movement eastbound but the smoke was thick like a curtain. Even his Force attuned senses were obstructed, the Dark Side hanging like a fog across the entire field of battle. No matter, he still had a job.

He looked down to his wrist comm as it chirped a message. He had nearly tuned out the device in those moments, the cacophony of distress calls, requests for information, and the barking of orders had been deafening but the cadence of this call was different. This wasn’t a general call; it was specifically tuned to the Jedi.

“Master Tionson has ordered all Jedi to converge on the south. Repeat; All Jedi are to converge on the south.” Vahn’s eyes widened, and he stood straight. He was close by, but the real fighting must have started already. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber.

“Okay. We aren’t too far from the rest of your men, we can-” he paused. There was something else. He could feel something, just beyond the periphery of his sense. Something dark; something that took joy in its malice. Vahn’s bowels tightened.

“No time to explain, we improvise, and we get out of here. Now. Right NOW,” Vahn barked, stepping aside just as he heard the first screech of durasteel being warped out of position. The DDF soldiers quickly packed up and hurried out of the newly doomed building, with Vahn bringing up the rear. He extended his mind subtly, easing the harsh edges of fear and anxiety in order to maintain the efficient egress out of the doomed building.

Vahn pushed the last of the DDF crew out of the building, hurrying them onto the duracrete streets just in time for him to see the skeletal remains of the cap of the building next to the data processing center come down, shrieking in its final moments.

“Stay behind me!” Vahn shouted.

He thrust his hands forward, marshalling up The Force to form a telekinetic barrier; he didn’t have the strength to fight gravity and the many tons of durasteel and ferrocrete crashing down, but he could form a defense against the dust and debris. The building wouldn’t come down, not totally, he hoped.

The debris hit his barrier like a hammer, and he was left staggered, his knees buckling briefly. He made no attempt to stop the speeder-sized chunks of what had been some high rise residential; but he could deflect them, encourage them to go scattering off like shrapnel away from his men. The mass of ash and pulverized stoneworks parted around his position like a great apple seed. By the end, he was left winded, his shoulders sloped as he breathed deeply to catch his breath and focus his mind.

Those few moments were crucial; this was a tremendous display of The Force. If he had just a few moments he could trace it, follow the patterns of the Force back to the source like following a string. He almost had it….almost….

There! On the roof of a nearby building. He turned to face the Dark Sider, his gaze snapping hawk-like onto the position where he sensed the display of the Force.

“We have company,” Vahn said bitterly.

“Going to go off and fight your jedi buddy like some holodrama now, are you?” Narn spoke, resignation in every syllable.

“No. No, there’s a time to fight. And a time to….” Vahn breathed, focused and turned, directing his hand back down the skyway. “Run! Go! With everything we have! You know where to go, I’ll get you there!”

Vahn turned from the Sith, and ran, shepherding the small band of DDF fighters north towards his goal, the other fortified operating center where reinforcements waited.

@Xian

 

[Drastus Drahr]

Echoes were all they were given. The force would allow Drast to see the thumb twitch to the switch before impact and reaching with the force he'd envelope the speeder to protect it from the blast, at least as best as he could. The explosion rocked through the barrier, blasting glass and metal inward. His armor would save him from the worst of it, but he grunted as pieces of shrapnel peppered him, a larger piece puncturing his side. He'd probably peg the kinetic damage from the burst as the worst of it.

His speeder was far from nice, now grounded. But with a weak look back, at least Felix seemed to fare better. It was far from perfect, but at least they weren't dead.

There wasn't time to rest, to dally. The damaged comms unit would crackle faintly and he could hear something about the south. Drast felt weak, but managed to drag himself from his spot, everything had hurt. A bloodied hand would force open the storage bay for Felix. "Fe.. get to the.. Citadel. Master Tionson needs you there.. I'll catch up."

His visor would shift to where the Citadel was before he leaned against the egg and slid down it, leaving a trail of blood on the speeder. "Get going.. I'll be fine.. and if you're real worried.. just send a healer back, yeah?" he wasn't sure if he would be, but Felix was needed elsewhere and he would just slow him down. He'd slump even more where he sat, his mind racing to his friends back home, to his Master, to her. His eyes closed and he exhaled slowly, using. The thought of her to keep him breathing.


@Nefieslab @christhebetrayer

 

[Darth Raze]

“Don’t need to,” Raze responded, “You are the same as any traitor that has no principles to hold onto,” He spoke as the Jedi shifted back slightly, “I’m sure you feel right at home and as if you belong,” The Sith Lord scoffed.

Given how he had caught the incoming blade, he could feel the Jedi’s saber moving when he went for that low cut. Applying pressure and strength against the block, Raze angled the blade to keep them connected, moving his clockwise in concert to shove the Jedi’s blade harmlessly down. It would force Talak to have his saber spin vertically down and towards his right, "The Eternal's days are numbered."

Meanwhile, Raze had purposely held off on other attacks from his original block to rapidly react to other offensive moves. As soon as the blade was out of the way, he moved in closer and reached his right hand to abruptly grasp at Talak’s left while he raised it in preparation for the attack. If successful, Raze would yank the man in and slam his helmeted head directly into his face. The proximity also would make it difficult for Talak to use his saber effectively. If the man focused on the push in spite of a headbutt to the face, it would send both men flying back.

@Phoenix

 

[Orenth]

THEME​

The knight moved close to the wall, keeping it within arms reach. His lungs felt heavy. His body didn't want to face the shadow he felt to the east. Not yet One fist tightened as he hated the truth of the matter. His closest arm held out to the side a little with its palm angled towards the wall. The building itself, artificial as it was, remained a surface and construct. The Knight looked for any accessways or pathways to make his egress easier.

Byron stopped and looked towards the center of the Capital Building suddenly. There, an all together different sensation rippled through the force that made him forget what was happening like it was a distant storm. The Knight was keeping his senses extended outwards and in doing so witnessed the feeling he had on Spintir. A ripple in the Force. No it felt more like someone had plunged a drain in the center of an ocean that drained no water...that led too...

...I have no idea​

The Jedi's senses could feel what came from the phenomenon. That darkness was what he felt in the distance many cycles ago at the Dawn Temple during meditation. Pain, anger, fear, the Jedi had not thought it to be a Sith borne event. Do I still believe that?

Inhaling the air that smelled of ash, the knight moved towards the dogged presence before him. The feeling in his gut told him of the shadow that lurked nearby but the Knight would no longer focus on. The figure ahead of Byron showed themselves and though she were adorned with different attire, the Knight recognized her.

"I'm sorry, Lyra."

@GABA

 

[Maxims Tionson]

Was Malicia seriously going to ignore him? That was irritating in a number of ways, not least of which because it didn't make it easy for him to tie up more of the Sith resources. Still, Max wasn't about to let it go, not when he could still play with his original plan a little bit. A Sith in elegant robes strode forward and shouted out to him with a kid cowering behind him.

There was a lot of hate and anger coming from the figure but, honestly, that was hardly unique right now. Denon was all but coated in a smog of anger, fear and hatred, what was one more man raging against everything that stood in his way. But he needed to keep the attention and the focus on himself for now so it was time to ask himself WWHD.

What would Hannibal do?

Hans, as much as he loved the guy, was able to get a rise out of a rock. A Sith who was already grabbing onto the anger train with both hands? Max didn't quite have Hans' level of skill but what did that matter when the foundations were already laid?

"Yeah, no, I was talking to your manager." he called back in response to the Sith, nodding to Malicia as he continued to stalk forward, "So if you could just run along and get her attention? I'd really appreciate it, thanks."

He smirked.

To anyone who knew him, it would look very out of place but that wasn't the point. The point was to keep them focused on him so that they weren't able to focus on conquest. If the Sith officers were defeated, the Sith attack would grind to a halt and he had more of a chance of achieving that if he wasn't staring down three Sith of varying degrees of power on his own.

Both sabers still active and ready to defend himself, Max focused on the Force and began to reach out with it. Again, not directly at any of the Sith themselves but for something else within sight. As the ground-sweeper continued to lay down fire, he moved it. Yanking the barrel of the cannon so that it sprayed fire into the backs of Sith troopers advancing. Killing them would hurt but he was going to have to address those feelings later.

And it would, hopefully, be rather distracting too.

@Dread @Mr. Teatime @Logan

 

[Talak Rand]

Talak feeling at home? As if he belonged? Twenty-seven years and he had never once felt that. He'd created monsters as a Sith and tried to undo his evils as a Jedi, but even in that he had barely managed to avoid creating more evils.

The Eternal's days were numbered? That was the way of the Sith, wasn't it? The Eternal's days were numbered because of the very underlings who were supposed to serve it. Talak, too, had once plotted the death of the Eternal from within its own ranks.

The Sith's blade kept pace with his own, pushing it to the side and he pulled it back toward himself once again as he felt an iron grip on his other arm. He could feel himself pulled forward and worked out what was happening a moment too late to totally avoid it.

The helmet slammed into him, the sickening crunch of cartilage breaking as blood began to pour from his nose. The blow caused his vision to blacken for a moment, his head spinning as he tried to recover himself. Years of training left him acting without thinking,

A saber duel could be a beautiful dance. The clash of sabers and the rhythmic footwork of an expert dancer left the muscles often acting without thinking. A grapple, on the other hand, was not. It was harsh, brutal, and almost animalistic. Anything but pretty.

The man's grip on Talak's hand was rock solid and tough enough to take Talak with him if he blasted the man, so he took advantage of that, jerking his arm in to pull the Sith off balance. He abandoned the planned blast and took a step forward, well inside the range of either of their sabers being effective and brought his left knee up, intending to slam it into the other man's groin before intending to slam the same foot down on his opponent's instep.

 

[Darth Raze]

Raze heard the sick crunch as his helmet broke through bone and cartilage. Blood splattered on the steely surface, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough to disorient the Jedi more than a moment. Talak was known to be lethal and he was one of the few in the galaxy the Eternal feared.

The Sith Lord felt Talak yank him towards himself, knowing full well that tugging the over 200 lbs man would take some measure of effort when his feet were firmly planted on the ground. Raze began to lean in as a feint but suddenly released Talak’s arm just as Talak began the kick. This would cause the Jedi’s upper body to abruptly tilt back with the sudden loss of resistance. He would also be unstable with one foot slightly in the air.

Raze acted with his right foot at the same time, sweeping it in to hook behind Talak’s right to make him topple on the ground on his back as he was already reeling. If the knee to the groin still came, he would take it to the outer right thigh. Raze didn’t follow up with any other attacks yet, prepared to take the fight to the ground if needed.

@Phoenix

 

[Darth Malicia]

While Max had resisted her drain, nothing stopped her tendrils from spreading and reaching the men around him. Her tendrils curled with almost desperation around their victims—the ones that were missed by magpie—and drained them until there was nothing but empty, grey, lifeless husks.

Drained and mangled bodies of men, women, soldiers, laid scattered about between the group of Sith and the lone Jedi.

But her tendrils vanished and her head tipped slightly when she heard her name shouted. While it took a moment, the council member recognized the voice that spoke it. "Max..." she growled.

As was her nature, a small spike of anger rippled through the Force. Hot and cold. She wanted to rip his throat out, yet her anger cooled significantly when Stolas began closing the distance between himself and the Jedi. She could tell when someone else was hungry, and Stolas was hungry.

And so, Malicia continued forward for the moment, on alert for more attacks or attackers. Aware of Max and his exertions of the Force. Max and her had fought on several occasions, but never when there was a clear goal in mind to conquer. It changed her priorities.

Just like her tendrils, her four cultists found little to no impediment in their advance towards the capitals centre and building. All four stayed within panicked crowds until they were ushered inside the capital buildings shielding. This was their order because downing the shielding made way for the capture of the planets leaders and significant leverage for their invasion.

One of the first cultists that crossed the threshold into the capital building—one from the east—held out only so long. Shortly after she entered the building she pressed her bombs trigger from inside her sweaters pocket. If unimpeded, another brilliant, deadly explosion would ripple throughout the east side of the building, prompting more screaming, more panic and obliterating one of the shield generators and its nearby backup. If successful, part of the buildings shielding would fail along with a chunk of it's structure.

Two of the remaining cultists heard the explosion and began to lower their own thumbs to press their bombs triggers. Bent on completely downing the buildings shielding and ripping away any sense of solace its occupants had.

@Mr. Teatime @Nefieslab

 

[Darth Tiamat]

And there they were, facing each other as everything she had come to follow in the Sith did not matter while she was swept for a moment in relief that he was present. Almost did she speak his name, call out to him, but paused as the ground shook around them and Tiamat blinked, her senses coming back to the truth of the reality that she knew as a Jedi, she would forever be his enemy. The Force saw it fit for them and possibly reveled in the cruelty of pulling them together. Byron knew who he was looking at, there was no need for him to see her face as she slid her right foot back, angling her body as she raised her blade.

He spoke with an apology; they had spend enough time and connected in a way that she knew he was sincere in his regret and possibly guilt that their paths would come to this. Tiamat did not say a word though as he used her former name, he seemed to be the exception but she also knew in his Jedi ways, he would refuse to call her who she saw herself to be. The Force was eerily calm around her as if she took peace within harbingers of chaos on Denon. However, deep inside there was another piece of her that waited for her permission and it would be a test for the young sith warrior in seeing if she could harness all the darkness back inside once she let go, if she could let go. There was a sudden remorse that coursed through her body that brought upon a pain as she grieved for the end of their friendly truce.

The dark side rumbled as she embraced her power and the pain that accompanied. It drove the shadow from inside to meet Byron as she approached, steadily stepping toward him until he was within striking distance. Her red blade swung, drawing the Knight into the fight and attempting to bisect him in the process.

@Darasuum

 

[Talak Rand]

Most of Talak's weight was balanced forward, placed behind his knee in order to drive it forward into the other man. And it did just that. While it may not have found his groin, it still slammed upward, bone meeting muscle. But the Sith Lord was quick.

He'd maneuvered onto Talak's side and placed his own leg behind Talak's, aiming to knock him off balance and into the ground. Talak's left hand shot out, snatching inside the collar of the other man's armor and bringing the Sith Lord down with him.

He used the Force to accelerate the other man down toward the ground, aiming to slam the other man's head face-first into the ground. With a helmet, it wouldn't be lethal, but it certainly wouldn't feel good and may even concuss him if successful. As they fell, Talak's own body hit the ground, the angle between the ground, his saber, and the Sith body now coming down on his right arm forced his saber hilt from between his mechanical fingers. He could hear it clatter several feet away but didn't have time or space to retrieve it.

Talak wrenched his arm out from under the other man, the glove covering his mechanical hand shredding against the duracreet as he did so. He rolled into the other man to try to position himself so that he could pin his opponent's right arm to the duracreet with his own left arm.

 

[ElavAlroon]

Elav’Alaroon watched as the Jedi and little soldier scurried out from their collapsing hidey hole, chuckling lightly. He breathed deep taking in their fear and anger, the rampant emotions soaking into his being like a refreshing herbal tea. Though his enjoyment was cut short as the roof he was stood on started to become unstable from its neighbouring buildings collapsing, He dropped down to the street below using the Force to slow his fall and steady his feet as he landed, before beginning his march to follow his new toys.

The Sith wheeled around the corner to see the Jedi and his friends heading for the relative safety of the Capitol building. Not that it would be that safe when the rest of the Sith got there, but the larger number would pose an annoyance for him personally. He raised his right hand using the Force to lift multiple small pieces of rubble before gesturing and firing them at the rear of the group like the projectile weapons of ancient times. Any armoured body parts would repel the oncoming hail, but exposed flesh would easily be torn through.

“Come on little Jedi. I thought we could have some fun together. If you just run away you’ll hurt my feelings, and I’m sure that’s not your intent.” He continued to follow the group up Northward raising his left hand and throwing more rubble at the group, “Are you not as confident as your kin? If you prefer we can debate philosophy, and the meaninglessness of your pitiful existence? I have tea on my ship.”

@The Steel Stag

 

[Darth Raze]

Raze had half expected to be dragged down, but he couldn’t have anticipated in what way. He attempted to brace for the fall, but the use of the Force accelerated it more than he could calculate. He collided on the ground painfully, his helmeted head slamming into duracrete. The force of the landing sent blinding pain through his head and his vision blurred for a moment. He knew he would have a concussion from the hit, but he had to act on instinct.

Part of his military training included extensive hand to hand combat. While Raze couldn’t have prevented the fall, he wouldn’t lay around to let Talak do as he pleased. His left hand released his saber hilt by choice, choosing instead to grasp onto Talak’s right. As Talak came in towards him, Raze’s body curled up to where his legs would slam towards his torso to push him back. Using that force of motion, Raze would swing around in that same fluid motion to trap Talak’s arm between his legs with them slamming down on the Jedi’s neck and chest in an armlock. The Force would hasten his movements, but it was mostly reflex from combat experience.

The original kick at Talak to springboard the armbar could potentially dislocate the right arm, and the armlock itself would seek to hyperextend and shred through muscle. Both of Raze’s hands would firmly grip Talak’s right hand. He was perfectly aware of Talak being able to use his free hand for incoming attacks, but it would be difficult to put any power behind it from the current position.

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

Talak could feel his opponent's movements. The leg slung across his neck, and he knew what was coming. But knowing and avoiding were two different things, much to many people's confusion.

Pain shot up through his arm as he felt the torque from the Sith's move. He couldn't suppress the cry of pain that escaped his lips as his shoulder slipped out of its joint, stretching the ligaments and shooting pain all through his arm and shoulder. That poor arm had suffered so much abuse at the hands of the Sith; more than most people.

No matter how much you may train, the fight of your life wasn't pretty. It was dirty and desperate. It was primal and you clawed at anything you could to survive. Talak didn't even realize that his vibroknife was in his hand. By the time he did, he was already thumbing the activator and swinging it up to slam into the exposed thigh of his opponent. He would happily carve it through his opponent's thigh until he'd taken the leg off or the man had left his reach. Muscle, nerve, arteries, and more ran through the leg. Perhaps he'd even hit the femoral artery and his opponent would bleed out during the course of the battle. Unlikely given its placement, but one could hope.

 

[Felix]

Felix blinked rapidly his mind in complete disorientation, a loud high pitched whine engulfed his entire hearing, a hand reached for his ear and was brought back wet with blood.

He began to pat himself down, checking himself for wounds, no punctures his armour weave underlay saw to that but it appeared a few ribs were broken alongside his left shoulder blade.

He felt movement from behind him he tilted his head up to see Drastus, he saw Drastus’s lips move but no sound came from them, the high pitch whining still clouded everything. He crawled out of the egg, his movement like that of a drunk, slow and clumsy. Now outside the wreck of a vehicle, he saw the state drastus was in. his lips moved again but to no avail again. He looked bad.

Felix attention turned to his own comlink he pressed broadcasting on an open channel.

“Padawan Felix... caught in... explosion... need... healer... ‘nother padawan... down… north of... cap building” his voice broadcasted on an open channel it was ragged and dry, his breaths laboured. he detached the com from his greave and placed it drastus hand and nodded, he hoped someone would come help Drastus.

“Stay awake” he would lay next to Drastus hold his hand squeezing it every time he closed his eyes.

@Rhogar