Open Invasion Sith Invasion Of Denon

[Darth Stolas]

Stolas kept moving forward at a quick but even pace, marching down the street as if he already owned the city. A small step right allowed a shot to pass by him while the second in the salvo returned to the sender's center mass. The soldiers were starting to learn shooting at the Sith Lord wasn't the best use of their ammunition over firing at soldiers instead.

An eyebrow rose behind the man's faceplate as the Jedi spoke again, this time actually directed at him. How cute.

"Ah, the classic Jedi dilemma," Morgan said dismissively, waving his right hand through the air- a gesture the Force followed along with. As Max's focus turned toward the groundsweeper, Stolas' turned instead to the trashed speeder the Jedi's projectile had originally come from, now behind him.

"Garrulous talk, or witless and ineffectual action," he continued, head tilting ever so slightly. "Although I do hear Jedi throw impressive funerals. The value of practice, no?"

@Maxims Tionson would have to fight the Magpie's pilot for control of the turret to drag it around, and although he would win that tug of war and send bolts into the backs of advancing troopers after a second or so, there was an opening. In the middle of that a shotgun blast of random glass and metal shrapnel of varying sizes launched itself at his back under Morgan's control. The razor hail could inflict severe damage to the man's unarmoured and defended back and potentially break his concentration as a result.

If focus was maintained on the Magpie's gun it would chew through a few Sith soldiers during a sweeping burst meant for the defenders. It stopped firing for the moment after a barked order from Stolas and soldiers started clearing the immediate firing line. There was also some yelling about a Jedi popping out of the east alleyways followed by some screaming and gurgling type noises.

"Aadya, deal with that would you?" Stolas said through his comm to the young acolyte in reference to the attack on their east flank from the alleys. Morgan chose instead to deal with the Jedi who had no small amount of power and experience. He was the linchpin of the front defense and if he was occupied or taken down it was more likely the Denon resistance would collapse.

Not much farther for either of them to reach close combat range now. The march continued.

"I'd suggest you handle Roland Rook's as well, but I'm afraid you'll have to gather up the pieces."

@Stick @Nefieslab @Logan

 

[Darth Raze]

Raze felt that satisfying pop as the Jedi’s arm dislocated, tendons and muscles tearing and straining. While he had expected a punch or jab, he hadn’t anticipated a Jedi to fight as dirty as Talak did. Raze had to remember that the man had been Sith before and had a brutal upbringing. That shined through more and more, and he could learn to appreciate the vicious way he fought.

A grunt of pain escaped Raze as the vibroknife cut into his leg. There was no protection there and the blade would dig through skin as blood splattered. It would dig into flesh, cutting easily through muscle as blinding pain shot through the Sith Lord. Moving on instinct, the Sith Lord whirled hard towards his left to spin and minimize the damage. This meant the knife would graze slightly around the thigh but not continue the inward trajectory towards severing the leg.

Raze intended to make the most of this hard roll, his left boot jamming down to slam towards the side of Talak’s head at the same time for the added torque. He also intended to hold onto the arm to break it as he rolled, but he was surprised at the end of it.

When he was left holding a prosthetic hand.

With a growl of frustration and pain, Raze hurled the limb like a missile aided with the Force towards Talak’s broken nose.

@Phoenix

 

[Vahn Berand]

“Two bursts, then one!” Vahn shouted as he rolled over the top of a still flaming speeder. “Keep moving!”

There it was again, that upwelling of power behind him. Vahn cursed, and turned on his heel, dust and ash swirling around his boots. He breathed, calmed his mind and thrust his hand forward. He filled himself with the Force, his mind at once at peace.

At once Vahn knew he couldn’t meet this Sith in a head on match of the Force. Vahn was strong, but every time his opponent drew deep he could feel that Elav’s resources were deeper, could be pushed harder. Unless he could get in close he would be at a distinct disadvantage. But in order to do that he would have to....

“No,” he told himself.

He sensed the broad cast of the projectiles moments before hand, and he threw up another telekinetic wall. He made no attempt to stop them outright, instead he pressed deeply with the force, bleeding off the kinetic force of the projectiles so that even with the Force they would have to accelerate once more back into full lethality. The projectiles tore into the ranks of retreating men, stone imbedding in flesh but with far less velocity. For others, the shrapnel deflected off of armor.

Vahn stumbled as ferrocrete debris clipped his thigh, drawing blood. Behind him, he felt someone’s life end. He beat down the thoughts of who might have just been killed. Stay in the present. Focus on where you are, Vahn told himself.

“I try not to hurt anyone’s feelings!” Vahn shouted back. “But hey, failure is the only way we can learn!”

He clicked his comm link twice, and a storm of blaster fire erupted from behind him. The spread of fire was wide across Elav’s position, unfocused, but Vahn hoped it would be enough to set the Sith on his back foot. Vahn ignited his lightsaber, his brilliant blue blade ready to redirect any bolts that were set his way as he backed away into the line of roughly half of the DDF soldiers with their blasters pumping red streaks of light down the road towards Elav. He kept one hand up, continually willing a wall of force in front of himself to slow down, but not stop the rain of projectiles against his men. The other half of the remains of the company continued retreating back up towards the redoubt beyond the capital’s shield walls.

"Don't bunch up, don't make yourselves easy targets!" Vahn said.

Vahn clicked his comm link once, and the blaster fire stopped. It wasn’t pretty, but the soldiers nearest to Vahn broke ranks, and ran past their compatriots who had chosen a handful of spots for cover; charred rubble, the skeletons of larger cargo-loaders. Vahn held up the rear. Once they passed, the blaster fire continued, though likely to less effect as the darkness and distance made it even more difficult to track the Sith down range.

“We need to get off this artery, that bit of fire must have alerted someone to our position.” Vahn said aloud to the platoon of men with him as they retreated in turns off into the narrow spaces of the hab blocks outside of the capital. He squeezed Tech Specialist Yureet by the shoulder, stopping him briefly.

“And broadcast as far as your wrist-comm can reach on encrypted channels, see if there are any hold outs on their way between us and the capital. We need every blaster.”

@Xian

 

[ElavAlroon]

Theme​

Elav’Alaroon smiled and drew his saber slowly from his belt as the Jedi finally turned to face him along with a few of the foolish creatures he was trying to defend. “You shouldn’t worry about failure too much.” The red blade of his saber hissed to life as he continued to steadily walk forward, “After all, it won’t be the last time you-” He was cut off as blaster bolts rained down the street towards him. He stopped his advance and with a few deft swings deflected the few shots that would have hit him. The rest fell wide peppering the rest of the street and walls.

“It seems your fear is affecting your aim, I shall-” The second volley flew down the street, this time more sustained. He put his right foot forward turning side on the hail of fire deflect any that would hit him, though his lack of practice showed as a few of the bolts scorched across his cape and armour. How dare they interrupt him. He was simply trying to educate their puny minds. Ingrates.

His mild annoyance turned to anger as he missed one of the bolts entirely and it burned across his left cheek. He drew on The Force again, this time wraping it around his left arm, the Twi’lek span on his front foot thrusting his left forward, throwing the gathered Force forwards, “Enough!”

The wall of Force ripped forward collected dust and small particulates as it went. He watched as his wall closed in with the Jedi’s, the dust bouncing between the two not able to pass either. That was until the two forces collided blasting the dust in all directions creating a small cloud in the street, blocking the Sith’s view. He couldn’t tell if he had affected the Jedi at all.

Elav’Alaroon had a sudden realisation, this was the Jedi’s plan all along, to get up a smokescreen to cover his retreat. The anger inside his gut began to boil and bubble, he fallen into the Jedi’s trap. He was outsmarted by a Jedi? INCONCEIVABLE. Gathering the Force into his left hand once more and mixing it with his fury, and with a scream of pure rage he pushed his hand forward once again. This time lightning arcing from his fingers flying down the the centre of the street into and through the dust cloud. No Jedi would outsmart him!

@The Steel Stag

 

[Aadya Rasheer]

Yes, my Lord. Aadya said simply, responding to Stolas' instruction. It felt strange to interact with the Darth with such subservience. In their other encounters Aadya had spoken with Stolas as if they sat on a more equal level - not in terms of power, but in humanity. In this scenario, however, there was no room for that.

Gripping her lightsaber, Aadya jetted off in the direction of the Jedi's new arrival - @Rishe Vakren. It seemed the gun of the Magpie was on the fritz again, but Aadya would ignore that for now. If the weapon was destroyed now, it had more than served its purpose.

The distance between Aadya and Rishe closed to maybe ten meters before the Sith would slow her advance. Not keen to charge headlong into an unknown adversary, Aadya stared at the Jedi with a venomous glare, her eyes conveying every manner of disgust even while she remained silent.

With a subtle motion of her hand, Aadya pulled down some hanging-by-a-thread debris from a blown out building, causing the duracrete blocks to fall onto the Jedi's soldier allies, squashing them. This was a fight between two users of the force, not insignificant soldiers.

This moment was the first time Aadya had been presented with an opportunity to fight a Jedi since she had left the Order, and she would not squander it. Felling the person who stood before her would be more than just a victory for the Sith, it would be the young Acolytes chance to permanently sever that part of her past and to move on from it.

You are out of your depth here, Jedi. Aadya called to Rishe, her voice hollow and robotic from the scrambler in her mask. Of course, perhaps so was Aadya, but that wasn't really the point.

Her lightsaber held firmly in her right hand, Aadya smirked beneath her mask as she motioned towards Rishe. The darkside swirled and gnashed around the young acolyte, its ravenous hunger for chaos and pain giving Aadya strength.

Come. Meet your end.

@Stick

 

[Rishe Vakren]

This was the first time Rishe had faced the Sith.

She understood so little. She wanted to know more. To understand. To dissect. In order to truly destroy something, you needed to know all you could. But, even without her knowledge, there were things in this other woman she still understood intimately. It was the disgust. The anger. The disillusionment. There was a drive to prove something in this Sith, an all-too familiar attitude.

The Force. Rishe felt something above. The Sith was in front of her. The two soldiers behind. Sith troopers may not be far away. Not strong in the Force, she still yet had a talent to multitask, and took no risk. She lashed out with a kick, her free right hand pushing on the other man. Momentum carried her forward, and those two back, but absent their armaments. She still felt pain from one of them before the emotion suddenly snapped taut - slicing through her as it disappeared. The debris had claimed one.

The Padawan straightened up. To try and save those two, she'd put herself out of position, a few metres close to the Sith than she'd have liked. They must look strange, the Jedi covered in soot, smog, and torn through with laser burns, while the armored, sleek Sith contrasted her. The acolyte clearly expected little and respected less. So Rishe stood collected and tall in defiance. She would prove to be everything this Sith wasn't.

She advanced, sure footing leading her closer to her adversary. There was a potential of a trap since she wanted Rishe to approach, so the padawan would be careful. But the Sith didn't sit right with her. Willing to kill with a flick of her wrist, but then being fine to mince words. It was a jarring thought. Was this some sort of game?

"At least I embrace the depths without hiding behind theatrics and a mask." Rishe hissed, her tone low and pointed as the padawan grew near. She didn't quite hold the sanctity of the duel as close to her heart as her opponent might. This was a war, she couldn't spare the luxury of something as personal as a climactic duel. If she did, she'd have to stop assigning numbers. Realize that there was a name behind every death-signalling jolt. She couldn't do that, not right now.

Her first strike wasn't a saber blow, but a quick, violent Force push with her right hand. The padawan wasn't strong enough to even make a good attempt at knocking the other woman off her feet while she's prepared, but it would maybe help Rishe conserve her momentum in trying to push the Sith back with a one-handed diagonal slash, from her top right to the bottom left. She had reach and size over her opponent, and as a leftie, had a mismatched hand on the Sith. Hopefully that could prove beneficial.

@Logan

 

[Vahn Berand]

Vahn turned back to the skyway as he hurried down a step of ferrocrete steps, a fine display of brutalist architecture. His eyes widened as he saw the still lingering cloud of dust. That… was lucky. He swallowed hard, and turned back to his men.

“Time to go. IT’S TIME TO GO.” He barked in a hurried tone, ushering the tail end of the platoon down onto a side road that was tucked between the clustered towers of one of the southern hab blocks nearest to the capital. Keep going, keep going. Don’t stop. He practically flew down the steps behind them before tucking into the shadowed side street overshadowed by the looming towers above, seemingly miles high.

Vahn kept a careful pace. He carefully picked through the alleys and side-streets, never risking an outright confrontation. More than once, his pace was slowed by Sith patrols. Always, he kept a supple hand in the force, reaching out to his men to brush down the nerves, buff off the edges of prickling fear. He could potentially be tracked in this way, he knew, but the need to keep his men calm outweighed such a risk. If that Sith tracked him down again, well...he'd deal with that if the time came.

“Keep going, keep broadcasting,” he stated in a hushed voice to the tech specialist. As a group they cut through the hab block. He could spy the shield, through gaps in the towers and blown out skyscrapers, each a skeletal memory clawing towards the stars. Vahn beat down that grim thought. The shield was his orientation point. So long as he could keep it in his sight he could chart a course through the crisscrossed streets no matter how overgrown the city had become over the course of the centuries. He crept ever northwards, towards the location the DDF troops had indicated was a fortified structure where a larger number of soldiers had managed to secure as a base of operations.

His commlink screamed with a dozen different channels barking orders, pleading for help, requesting information. For many, no help would be coming. For some, well, Vahn comforted himself with the thought that he could aid them. Long range communications had been shot. But here, in the dense, winding paths of the urban sprawl of Denon there were some who could be reached. Small groups of DDF fighters could be reached through short range comms.

“Direct them to the redoubt if they can’t reach us. They won’t know where safety can be found. Those along our path, we can pick up.” Vahn said. A real defensive position was so close.

At first, there were no replies, but then a hoarse, scared voice.

“Really? Help is coming? There are still defensive positions to fight from?”

“Relatively. And men to fight beside. Blasters to fight with. Better than what you’ve got at least.” Vahn said. His comm link buzzed with a series of other similar sudden requests for aid on the short ranged channels.

@Xian

 

[Morndell Avon]

Morndell was unaware of the danger that he would soon be walking into.

As such the Chalactan continued to make his way for the Capitol's entrance, intent on following Max. His comm was alight with calls for aid and backup, updates on the ongoing aerial and ground battles. Morndell grimaced as he pushed past the panicked crowds at the Jedi Master's warning.

"–Sith Lord presence."

It took him back on Morak where he lost his troops, with the exemption of Ramone and Edmund. And while they faced no Sith Lord that day, the anger and the need to avenge his fallen comrades immediately took hold of the would-have-been general. Rage dictated that he move forward, to face whoever Darksider was outside – whoever the hell Max might be facing. Logic, however, asked him what he could do against such reckless hate. It asked him if what he was about to do would help Max or be a hindrance. He might have combat experience given his military days, but faced with a Force user, and a Darksider at that?

A new message over the comms showed Morndell what he should be doing.

"All forces, be advised.. enemies within the walls dressed as civvies and armed with explosive vests. Just tallied one."

Jaw clenching the representative about-faced and hurried back further inside, following the crowd's flow. DDF troops continued to usher the people to safety as Morndell made a beeline for the soldiers.

"Sir, you should be leaving!" one trooper yelled at him overhead. Instead of shouting back, however, the Chalactan pushed past the crowd to inform the troops about what he'd just heard.

"Did you get the advisory about the enemies disguised as civilians?" Morndell asked the trooper who, in turn, turned pale at the news.

"No, sir, my comm's fried by a blaster bolt when I was–"

The other five defenders shared concerned looks. "This is bad."

"We can't afford to lose time nor have any of the enemy make it inside the Capitol," said the senator grimly. He pointed at the trooper he asked earlier. "You're coming with me, soldier. As for the rest of you, tell the others and stretch out the defenders on each entry point, have them on the lookout for suspicious civilians. It's our only way of singling out potential bombers. Anyone wearing coats, sweaters, anything too big to conceal explosives–"

"It's going to be difficult, but we can at least try," agreed another trooper. With one final nod at Morndell, he and his partner went on with their new task.

The trooper accompanying Morndell was quick to comply as well, helping the Senator weave through the panicking crowds as the two made their way to the entrance on the eastern side of the Capitol. Hurrying people along while trying to scan the crowd for anyone suspicious. It was nigh impossible given the chaos around them, but Morndell determinedly looked around, praying to any god who might listen that the enemies incognito still haven't made their way inside the Capitol.

Suicide bombers weren't new to him, as well as what their agenda might be. It was either they kill people, or they were instructed to kill and destroy something. A quiet curse slipped past Morndell's lips when realization struck him.

The shield generators. Of course, they would–

Morndell and the trooper were still meters away from their destination when a loud and blinding explosion blasted through the east entrance. The shock of the explosion sent the senator flying backwards along with the trooper, bodies and debris flying in all direction. Morndell landed flat on his back, his skull making a sickening crack as he hit the ground. His vision swam and a deafening ring thundered mightily in his ears as he tried to get up to assess the damage in the area. It took him a moment, but the senator finally managed to pull himself up on a sitting position, blood trickling down his neck from a head wound. Beside him the trooper was coming to, and shakily stood up while supporting the Chalactan. They looked up just in time to see part of the Capitol building's shielding failing.

"We're too late," muttered the trooper in despair as more screams – fear now mixed with pain and of the dying –filled the area. Dead bodies were everywhere, some barely recognizable at all, and Morndell did not have to imagine those who were in the thick of the explosion.

The senator searched for his comm and found it miraculously intact. He would then broadcast a message, his voice grim as he spoke.

"East side of the Capitol building and its shielding are compromised. I repeat, east side of the Capitol and its shielding are compromised. We have suicide bombers on the field. Numbers are uncertain, and we have yet to know if some have already entered the building."

@Dread

 

[ElavAlroon]

Theme​

Elav’Alaroon ceased his lightning after not getting any sort of response from the Jedi, he had definitely missed. As he reset his stance he reached out with the Force looking for his opponent. He’d been trying to protect those he was with, perhaps he still was and would give away his position. There it was, but the Jedi was further away and moving. The Twi’lek let scowled as he gathered the Force around him and used it to aid his stride and give chase. It would be harder than that to escape him.

The Sith ran through the dust cloud, down a set of stairs and even barreled straight through some of their own troops as he closed in on the location he could sense. Nothing would stop him from catching the one who had attempted to humiliate him. One final corner and his prey was in sight, he shifted the Force down his right arm and into his lightsaber, reinforcing it for the upcoming strikes.

The Jedi seemed unaware of his presence had he not been keeping track of the Sith? Did he feel Elav’Alaroon wasn’t worthy of worrying about? The Twi’lek’s rage flowed through the Force into his lightsaber arcing around the blade as it took the form of lightning once more. The Sith closed the gap between the two as rapidly as he could, the crackling of the lightning reaching it’s peak as the blade was swung diagonally from his top right to bottom left. Even if he stopped the blade, he still had to deal with the lightning.

@The Steel Stag

 

[Talak Rand]

Talak could feel the warm spray of blood on his face as the blade found its mark. His own blood and the blood of his enemy coated his face in a grizzly display, and he kept a firm grip on the blade as it continued to rip through the other man's leg. Talak would claim his pound of flesh.

And it seemed that the Sith Lord would claim his pound of... metal. Talak could feel the pressure on his mechanical arm, some of the nerves having been reattached meant that there was a wrenching feeling under the pressure and then a moment's pain as the arm popped free. The kick to the head was lessened by Talak rolling the other direction - probably part of the reason his arm came off - and the two combatants were separated.

The Jedi felt he had probably come out on the slightly worse end of that exchange, but he'd still done his own bit of damage.

He could practically feel the anger radiating off of the other Sith, and it gave him a very visceral satisfaction.

You might need a hand in beating me, he said. Not because he found it funny or because he wasn't in pain, but because he knew - he knew - it would piss off his opponent even more.

His own arm was almost useless at this point, but that didn't meant Talak was completely out of the fight yet. He managed to tilt away from the "projectile," his own hand flying only inches past his own head as he narrowly avoided a "stop hitting yourself" moment.

Talak paused a moment. It must have only been a fraction of a second to consider the best course of action when a detonation of one of the cultists tore through he support beams of the level nearby. It wasn't enough to drop the entire level by any means, but it sent rippling cracks through the street near Talak and the Sith.

He scrambled back, but it was too late as he felt the floor slip out from under his legs. He was plunged to the floors below, falling for longer than he'd have liked to as he curled the Force around him to break his fall. Even then, the impact was rough, and he could already feel bruises beginning to form as he pushed himself up.

Stone and duracreet hit the ground all around him, but the only thing he was looking for was his opponent.

 

[Orenth]

Byron's eyes stared at the armored young woman before him. She walked towards him until she was within striking distance. The swing was straightforward but no less deadly. Byron brought up the outside of his forearm, meeting the sizzling impact of the blade with his matukai gauntlet. The force behind the hit could have cleaved through the Jedi if he hadn't blocked it. Byron could tell just by feel alone.

There was no hesitation in Byron's actions. However he was not ready to go to the lethal lengths. The lightsaber and blaster remained inert on his belt for now and undrawn. War had come to Denon. There was a lot to process on top of the chaos in the moment.

Bringing his free hand up with a raised open palm, Byron gritted his teeth to stun the Sith. Instead of him lunging, he took a half step back with a flash of light the flash of light emanating from his palm suddenly. Provided it brought him some respite from a follow up attack the Knight would spin for a kick, letting the edge of his heel to catch Tiamat's lightsaber to either knock it from her grasp or at least send her off balance.


@GABA

 

[Maxims Tionson]

Well at least the Sith spoke - Max had been worried that he was going to have one of those Sith who either didn't speak or only spoke in the most generic terms. "The Light shall wither and die!" and the like. They made for light amusement at times but that was pretty much it since their material tended to repeat often. Malicia, bless her, was one such Sith.

On and on about hunger... honestly.

"Don't worry - I'll make sure you get one of our finest." he assured the Sith with a grin, "Afraid the tombstone will have to be blank though. See..."

Ah.

The tinkling of glass from behind him and a sense of adrenaline rushing through his veins. Clever boy... but Max wasn't a council member for his witty word play.

... not JUST for his witty word play.

Max released his grip on the turret at the sound and he pivoted in place on his right foot, drawing his left foot back so he would be facing Stolas with his right hand extended. His left hand he flung outward, using the pivot to build up momentum in his left arm. A pulse of the Force extending from his metallic hand, mostly focused downward to protect areas of himself that were not best protected.

His Push would disrupt the hail of debris but not fully. He grinned despite the pain as small shards of glass assaulted his left side, peppering his left arm, a few catching the side of his head and drawing thin lines of blood.

One actually scraped against his cheekbone on the left side of the face but the majority of the debris was focused at his chest. Which his entirely metallic left arm managed to shield him from fairly well. Small nicks had gotten through despite that, of course, but between his side profile, his quick weak Push and his metal arm he wasn't shredded so much as he was poked severely a few times.

He continued, never having taken his eyes off of Stolas and now stationary.

"... I have no idea who you are." he said, tilting his head slightly in a nod, "I'll always remember you as the Sith who got me in trouble with the healers and a pair of tweezers however."

Did the Roland thing mean he was claiming credit for the death of the Ranger? He'd heard that the Captain had died but, honestly, he'd only met the guy once. A real loss for the Rangers, to be sure, but he didn't really feel, on a personal level, broken up about it.

Unlike, apparently, Roland himself was.

In terms of his defense, the Push was weak, quick, and rather simplistic for a reason - he might have been able to fully defend himself with the Force but he didn't want to commit as much concentration to it as that would require. Instead he would keep his attention almost entirely on Stolas, his right blade still held tightly between himself and the advancing Sith in a horizontal guard at shoulder level, his right arm extended but not fully so he could pull it back or push it out in response to Stolas.

The momentum, however, was his opponent's for now.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Aadya Rasheer]

Not as much of a flex as you think it is. You sound like a really shitty Jedi. Aadya responded, her tone cruel and mocking. Whatever lessons this Jedi had undergone, clearly none of them included witty banter in the face of imminent death. Lets see how long you can manage the depths before you drown.

Aadya watched Rishe with hawk-like eyes as the Jedi came closer, and noticed the movement of her right hand as she let out the force push. Sliding her left leg back, Aadya braced herself against it - although she had expected much more than what hit her, the attack barely budging the young Acolyte at all.

As Rishe closed the gap and entered into melee, Aadya gathered her resolve and the force into her offhand. When the Jedi's blade came down, Aadya would catch it with her own, her lightsaber horizontal to the Jedi's.

The moment the two blades touched, Aadya would release the force from her offhand, summoning a tight and powerful force blast straight into Rishe's unarmored diaphragm. After the release of force, Aadya would pull back. If the force attack sent Rishe flying, Aadya would follow up with a quick slash of her saber to catch whatever piece of Rishe she could get.

If that option did not present itself, the young acolyte would stay defensive, waiting to capitalize on whatever defense the Jedi managed to come up with.

@Stick

 

[Darth Malicia]

Her hunger. Over her life, she'd devoured the souls of tens of thousands if not more.

Mass murderer was putting it lightly.

And her body count would continue to grow, partly due to the Jedi failures.

Malicia strode past Max, quickening her steps towards her next meal, similar to what Stolas had done for his own. Max was busy pushing away the debris thrown at him, and she allowed a wide birth to avoid any possible "friendly fire".

One thing had remained consistent with the small council member; she was never overconfident. She was almost always paranoid, so she continued on high alert for anything that might come her way.

After the first cultist exploded, two more explosions inside the capital building followed since they were not stopped. The entire shield went down, and nothing but lifeless, mangled bodies were left directly in front of it.

She could hear Max babbling to Stolas in the distance and she kept going, up the stairwells and into the building and hall. Finally, Malicia raised her hands as she walked with purpose, a panicked crowd parting in front of her.

 

[Morndell Avon]

Mere seconds after his broadcast, two more equally powerful explosions rocked the Capitol building. Panicked and frightened screams drowned his hearing, and all hope seemed lost as the shields went down, leaving the Capitol defenseless from aerial assault.

"Puñeta!" exclaimed Morndell angrily as he was assisted back up on his feet. Shakily, his gaze was instantly met by the destruction and loss of life the initial explosion had caused. Beside him the trooper was frantically contacting his colleagues, but only static came from their ends. The senator uttered another curse.

"Ramone, can you hear me?"

There was no reply save for static, and Morndell feared the worst. His aide always answered as quickly as he could, and the more Ramone's response was delayed, the more fear and despair pushed itself in the senator's mind. Gesturing at the trooper to gather more of his colleagues to defend the east entrance from impending assault, he turned his attention back to his comm and called out to Ramone again.

"Ramone– Pascal, I swear to the gods, if you don't answer right now–"

More crackling static, then, "General?"

A dreadful weight lifted itself off of the Chalactan's chest at the sound of his aide's voice. Not dead, thank the gods...!

"Pascal, get the hell out of the Capitol," he grimly commanded the younger male. "We have suicide bombers in the building, and their numbers are uncertain. Get as many as you can out of here."

Turning the comm off before the young man could reply, Morndell turned to the DDF members the trooper had gathered. "This entrance is compromised," he addressed the group of twenty men or so, "as well as the other ones, assuming that the bombers killed themselves in such locations. Any moment now, Sith troops would be swarming the area to capture the Capitol." He pointed back at where he came from, letting the terrified screams of civilians wash over the assembled group of defenders. "But they won't be here to just seize this building for control – no. Civilians make good hostages. Meat shields. Civilians make for a good massacre."

The troopers' fear was palpable, but the thought of their citizens falling prey to the enemy was inconceivable and unacceptable. Anger and determination overpowered fear. This was what they were here for, weren't they? To defend, to protect those who were without power?

"Now, let me ask you this, defenders of Denon: Will you let the enemy take your people?"

With that parting question the senator turned on his heels, nodding once as the trooper who had accompanied him took the lead in forming a defense line in an attempt to stave off incoming enemy troopers' advance. Morndell pushed through back into the building, left hand unholstering one of his Peacemakers as he continued to shout commands for troops to rally and evacuate as many as they could.

With the Capitol's shields down there was only one thing left to do, and Morndell needed to be quick. The planet's political representatives were housed and taking refuge in the building. He needed to make sure that they were either still in the Capitol or have been successfully evacuated already. As far as the senator was concerned those politicians could practically be used by the enemy as leverage to subjugate the planet and its defenders.

Now that the shields were down, having the political figures captured was something that could not – must not – be allowed.

Morndell rushed forth with purpose, going back where he and the troop came from. He stopped short from exiting the hall when he saw the crowd by the entrance parting for something or someone as they entered the Capitol. The hairs on the back of his neck stood, and the feeling of dread settled in the senator's gut.

From the hall adjacent to his, four DDF members stormed out and into the main entrance hall. At the sight of the small figure clad in black, they would raise their blaster and aim it at the figure (@Dread).

"Stand down!" thundered the troop leader. One soldier in particular, overpowered by the fear the figure in black imposed, would accidentally pull the trigger of his weapon and would fire at the Sith.

 

[Darth Tiamat]

He did not back away, but stood his place by going on the defense against the Sith woman's attack. She moved with finesse for someone the Jedi had just assumed to be just a troubled teen. Her blade clashed against his gauntlet, and though he was unarmed physically, Tiamat knew he had the Force as a tool to utilize as well. She stepped back with grace preparing to come in again when as almost on cue, he also took a step backward, channeling the energy of the Force into a blinking, albeit blinding, flash of light.

There was no need for Tiamat to stop though, the dance did not stop for an inconvenience as she stepped forward again; her eyes taking their pause as her senses guided her movements. He was like a beacon in the darkness in which she ruled, narrowing in on the Jedi while he committed himself to a kick that followed his blind in order to disarm her from her weapon. However, just as he misjudged the girl, he would be cursed with the misjudgment of his disarming.

Tiamat let out a yell as pain ripped through her body as she would bring her saber down right below his knee as he reached with his kick. The sith would let out another yell as her body coursed with pain; it was as though she were suddenly wounded, but no visible wounds existed. It would not be clear right away that her pain was not entirely of her own, but shared by another (@Darth Raze) through their connection in the Force.

@Darasuum

 

[Vahn Berand]

At first, only small groups appeared on the route that Vahn and his adopted DDF comrades cut through the urban chaos of the hab block. Ones and twos converged on their path, before entire squads emerged to meet them. The pack was growing, but still, somehow he felt ill at ease. There was something wrong, something tearing at the boundaries of his senses about this battle.


Then he felt it. That same oppressive force from before. Vahn breathed deeply, and slowed to a jog, before coming to a rest. Indecision flickered across his brow. This was familiar, but there was something else, some other sense of unease flowing across the field. Several of the DDF soldiers paused with him.

“Master Jedi?” Jogen asked. Vahn shook his head to clear his mind. He had stopped in the old remains of what seemed to be a child’s playground that had been blasted out by cross fire. Half of a nearby storefront had been blown out across the grounds. Morbidly Vahn was transfixed by the smoldering remains of a plastic taun-taun that had melted into the sand.

“The redoubt isn’t far ahead. A straight shot, really. Half of you go, get there. Get in contact with the others, prepare for the attack. I’ll be joining you shortly. Our Sith friend is upon us. The other half, stay on me, we’ll drive him off,” Vahn said.

“The rest of you, find some cover, then you know the drill.”

He willed the Force into his body. He felt alive. Powerful. His muscles and veins thrummed with the power of life itself as he watched the Sith approach. He could feel the cold fury rolling off of the other man like waves.

“We really need to stop meeting like this. People will talk,” Vahn mused aloud when he saw the Sith approach. “Clandestine meetings between a Sith and a Jedi? Scandalous.”

Vahn ignited his lightsaber the instant he felt that well-spring of power building up once more, and he caught the crackling, searing bolts of lightning across the blade. He grimaced, frowning as he struggled for a moment to push back and control the lashing tongues of destructive Force as the Sith advanced towards him saber in hand. Vahn’s gaze flickered, catching sight of the attack directed at him. With his lightsaber engaged, it would have been difficult to defend against both attacks; if not impossible.

However, combat isn’t all lightsaber swings and power. Vahn knew there were intricacies; of timing, measure, and prudence. As Elav’s blade came down, Vahn leaned his weight onto his back foot, and he tumbled backwards across the cobbled ground to keep himself just out of measure while he kept his Lightsaber aloft alongside his body to keep his hold on that lightning. He maintained the momentum, rolling onto his feet in a low stance with his blade held high above his head, his wrists crossed to guard his upper openings.

He tapped his comm link twice.

The remaining half of his team opened up with a hornet’s nest of warding fire from the scarce few spots of cover. There was little attempt to land a precise shot; no gleaning marksmanship, just simple, raw volume of fire on the target. The objective wasn’t necessarily to kill the Sith, just to break his focus enough for an opening to appear.

"We should have that tea some time! I've been perfecting my hand at Tarine!" Vahn said, before once more turning tail and running as his remaining troops broke away in sections to retreat, only stopping in pairs to fire back at the last known location of the Sith pursuing them. It wasn’t a clean retreat, but there was some sense of order.

Ahead of him, down the alleys he could see it; a squat, stone structure scorched and blasted out in places but still standing jutted out of the base of one of the many towers high above. A garage yawned open, and he could hear the humming of engines from within. Several teams of frantic DDF fighters were hurrying about, readying weapons and ammunition. Excellent.

Then Vahn’s eyes widened as he saw it beyond, peeking from just above the crest of municipal buildings outside the capitol. The domed shield collapsing, melting away like ice under a plasma torch. Somehow they’d breached the capitol’s defenses enough to destroy the shield generator. There was no time left. He had been delayed too long. He needed to make his move now.

@Xian

 

[ElavAlroon]

Theme​

Elav’Alaroon’s swing missed it’s target as the Jedi rolled out of range, and yet another volley of fire came his way. This was becoming more aggravating than it should be. Shifting his weight into his left foot, he reversed his swing this time funneling a wall of Force along his blade. He managed to deflect a couple of bolts back to their senders, but the big hit came when he released the wall of Force at several of the defenders hiding behind some rubble, causing it to fall and roll over them. However he took a bolt to his left shoulder, his armour reduced the impact, but it still hurt like a rankor bite.

The Sith’s scowl had reached a point it could curdle milk and was about to follow the Jedi and company when a voice came from behind, “My lord. We stand with you.” The Twi’lek turned and saw a dozen sith troopers in practically pristine condition, it seems the group he barreled through had followed him to hunt the last of the defenders in the area. “Good. When I strike at the Jedi, kill the defenders. They have been a thorn in my side for too long already.” He turned and advanced after his prey.

Elav’Alaroon had an idea, but his excessive use of the Force was starting to take its toll, he could feel his reserves slowly dropping. Even so he still had plenty to deal with this upstart, it would only pose a problem if he had to fight another Jedi at the Capitol, but judging by the dissolving shield, that wouldn’t be much of an issue.

As the group approached the fleeing rats, he saw they were starting to load up some vehicles in various states of damage. Some already had their engines running, others were struggling to start. With a wave of his hand the sith troopers took positions around the street behind both large and small cover. Raising his left hand towards the defenders and their guardian he compressed the Force into shape once more, “Having engine trouble? Here, have a jump start!” Stretching out his fingers lightning crackled forward, though this time rather than being solely focused on the Jedi it spread out across the whole street, swiftly joined with a torrent of blaster fire. Elav’Alaroon’s scowl started to turn into a small grin as he watched the storm of energy, both lightning and blaster, push forward like a red and blue avalanche.

@The Steel Stag

 

[Darth Malicia]

Malicia did not wait for the DDF members to speak to her. As soon as she saw their entrance into the main hall, with her hands already in position, she released a wide and powerful wave of Force in front of the four DDF, Morndell and everyone around that area where the halls crossed to be careful. She applied enough force for the impact, if it connected, to be near break-neck and to cause them serious injury.

She moved into a hallway to her left to avoid any fire, bringing her lightsaber to her right hand. It's red blade snap-hissed alive and she kept an eye over her shoulder to see if she'd be followed. Her interest was hunting down the politicians so she had to keep moving, though her hunger was begging to be released and she knew at some point she'd need to give in.

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Rishe Vakren]

It was something that struck a chord with her. Most insults typically fell on deaf ears - but, Rishe did have quite a poor Jedi education. Without a proper master since Ajan Kloss, and already a padwan with stunted talent and growth, it wasn't the first time her credentials as a Jedi were brought into question. The sneering tone even seemed similar to how that Knight acted on Kashyyyk.

The Knight who had been so confident and smug, saying she'd collect Rishe's corpse after the padawan died.

It would have been enough to make the padawan more incensed. But there were loud, distant explosions. A hasty call on communications that was enough to bring her from that disdain and anger she felt towards the Sith as they clashed.

"...east side of the Capitol and its shielding are compromised."

A pang of surprise. Guilt. Frustration. Self-loathing. She'd been on the east side - she'd neglected it to come aid Tionson, but where was she now? The battle was moving away, and Rishe had not only lost the only weapons she'd have been able to use against the magpie, the war would have been better off if she did nothing at all. What if she'd remained on the east?

She needed to retreat. To return. Part of her longed to keep fighting the Sith - but that desire to crush her enemy? Controlling those impulses is what separated the Sith and the Jedi, and winning a battle here would not help the war. And as she noticed the Sith apprentice preparing some strong, latent energies... there was probably another potent Jedi proverb she could use. But her split-second thinking only knew that it was a rare, delightful chance. Her knees buckled, her pressure on their crossed sabers decreased, and she leapt back.

Then the wind was slammed out of her.

A Jedi must let go. That was a good one for this. If only it didn't hurt so bad. Her adversary was prepared for if Rishe withstood the assault, and for if Rishe was knocked back. They didn't prepare for Rishe embracing the attack. A saber carved into the tattered remains of her robes as the wind whistled in her ears. It wasn't as graceful as a powerful Jedi leaping through the air, but for a brief moment, Rishe was able to understand how her stronger allies often felt when their acrobatics were supported by the Force.

But dreams had a habit of crashing back down to reality. Just like her. She tucked her chin to her chest and tried to angle herself in the air. Experience in zero-gravity helped with this, but when she landed, it was with an impact that jolted through her bones and entire body. Her legs gave out from under her and she tumbled backwards fiercely, accumulating scrapes and heavy bruises she'd feel later. Eventually her boots dug into the gravel of the road and she was able to skid to a bloodied, disheveled standing position a significant distance from her adversary. Her deactivated saber tumbled after her, and it clumsily shot towards her hand with a gesture. Another pull, and the distant launcher that had been left near rubble tumbled towards her, clanking on the stone before she caught it with a grunt.

That was why you didn't push someone as hard as you could, especially when remaining on the defensive. Rishe shrugged her robe from her shoulders - it was basically useless - locked eyes with the Sith, and finally replied, her voice hoarse over the long distance, and ragged from her barely able to catch her breath after the vicious gut-punch of a push.

"Then find a better one."

The shields were down, and even from this distance, she could feel a... ravenous hunger. The same one on Ajan Kloss. But this time, her senses were more tuned. She could actually feel the damage it was causing, each death splitting through her.

They wouldn't win this war with something like that running unchecked near the capital. Even if she wouldn't do much good - she'd do more good returning to face it than she would trying to get her first real slain Sith. So she slipped into the alleys to cut a path towards the center of the capital. Even with her minor injuries and exertion, she'd been in the alleys for almost the entire conflict. She'd probably know them better than the Sith if they decided to pursue her.

@Logan