The Battle of Naboo: The Emperor's Retreat (DEATH ENABLED)

[vamp]

As Matt flew backwards, he cursed profusely. Once he finally ended his trip by landing on his back on a corpse's arm, Matt stood up and noticed he was near the tunnels. "Great, she just made my trip shorter," he murmured sarcastically, then opened the trapdoor going down into the sewers, where filthy water splashed about.

"Ugh," he mumbled while descending, then Matt began walking around, doing his best to avoid getting too dirty, and suddenly smelled smoke. "You're kidding, right? This is a joke, isn't it?" he asked no one in particular, knowing it wasn't. As the smoke poured into his view, Matt pulled up his hood and put sleeve-covered hand across his mouth, and noticed a shape in the vicinity. "Hi there, traveler!"

 

[Richie B.]

Norin ran towards the Jedi as fast as he could, which wasn't that fast since, he was injured. After the Jedi was pushed towards the tunnels Norin began to speed up ignoring the pain as best he could. Norin wasn't a stranger to pain but with the injures he has will make him a sitting target for anyone looking for a easy kill. Once he was on top of the trap door it took all of what little strength he had left to lift it and started walking slowly down he saw the Jedi down here plus someone else who was walking towards them. Once Norin had finished his descent you tapped the Jedi shoulder with is right hand, since his left arm was holding his stomach in a attempt to keep him standing. Norin could faint any moment now that they escaped the Sith.

"Hello, ad'ika hope you have some energy left because I'm completely spent." Norin tried to whisper it but it wasn't hard he barely had enough energy to speak any louder.

Norin only hoped that the figure was a friendly or this just very well be the end for the Mandalorian. Norin than lend against the sewage wall not caring about the smell, Norin just needed to rest before he can go any further.

 

[BLADE]

Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn
World serves its own needs, dummy serve your own needs
Feed it off an aux speak, grunt, no, strength, no
Ladder start to clatter with fear fight down height
Wire in a fire, representing seven games
A government for hire and a combat site
Left of west and coming in a hurry
With the furies breathing down your neck
Team by team reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped
Look at that low plane! Fine, then.
Uh oh, overflow, population, common group, but it'll do.
Save yourself, serve yourself
World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed
Dummy with the rapture and the revered and the right, right.
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched!

It's the end of the world as we know it!
It's the end of the world as we know it!
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine!

- Welcome to Char! Don't turn that dial!

BBZZZTTT!

Chapter 5: The Dead Walk on Naboo!

​

"If you will kindly proceed past the Executive Portico you'll find our containment flushing facilities and secure rooms. Please remain in said rooms until the crisis has passed. Remember, TIPS first priority is your well-being--"

PEW-BANG!

"--Security protocols are active; personnel to remain in secure rooms until procedure is completed. Food will be furnished through our concierge system."

ZOOSH!

"Braised bantha a la Coruscant with cocofruit compote will be served at the usual hour. *Chime* At TIPS we're not just making medicine. We're changing lives... in partnership with the Theed Royal Council and our various affiliates."

"Bloody hell that bint just won't shut up will she?" Rhynde ducked under a euryptid blade of an arm and angled her pistol right at one of the creatures, "Reckon she's dead?"

"Better her than us."

"Sir Knight has claws."

Balthazar pushed her down and parried a blow from what he assumed were the fleshstems of several men joined together in unholy agony. His saber hissed through its open maw, and it fell, only to begin reforming with that horrible gloopy sound.

"Not as sharp as theirs," he winced as mottled talons scraped his spauldrons and drove --but did not quite pierce the skin-- the armor-piece into his shoulder, "Are we any closer?"

"Should be!" The young woman grinned at him and gleefully blew away some quadruped variant of the black things. Balthazar rather thought she looked deranged but his affection for Yelena held his tongue. Besides deranged was not the worst thing to be in the situation.

They backed up, now nearing a marble threshold; they were in the executive portico and the elevators should be nearby.

"Why don't these places ever have stairs?" Balthazar grumbled.

Rhynde chuckled, "Wouldn't want to make things too easy, old man."

They briefly made a stand, saber and blaster flaring at a good dozen of the snarling slobbering beasts.

"So... these things don't die."

"It doesn't seem like it, no."

"Must be nice."

Balthazar rolled his eyes, "Go see to the elevator, will you?"

He took his place as sentinel for the young woman and waited, his eyes scanning the remains of their brief skirmish. Pieces of necrotic flesh remained on the ground and some, he noted, did not stitch themselves up in a parody of healing: fillets and flanks, a farce of a steak, a limb hewed there, twitching, remained on the ground. Truly dead (this time at least.)

Well, I suppose this means they can be harmed.

It was not an entirely winning situation: other limbs and legs and sinews came together yet again, agglutinations of pain and nerve and tendon. But these slithered away into the darkness from whence they came. He heard a few clicks, howls, and yelps as the flesh-things… communicated with each other?

The Imperial Knight frowned, filing away that information for future reference and maintained his guard.

After a moment or two of rather audible intercourse the creatures fell silence. And then he could only hear the slight humming of his saber and the sounds of Rhynde tinkering away at the elevator.

A less experienced man might have quailed or been unmanned but whatever self-blandishments the rank of Imperial Knight might have bestowed, the old Pendragon had spent nearly a decade in the inky darkness beyond The Unknown. The silence did not soothe him. But neither did it seem an ominous thing.

He breathed in, gathered the Force around him and relaxed.

“Any luck?” He asked mildly.

“Ours doesn’t seem to be the best, old man,” Rhynde muttered from behind him, “The control panel is fried, but I think I can get the secondary wires to get us down.”

“How long?”

“Fooked if I know. A few minutes if I had’n guess.”

He nodded and let her get on with her task. Not many moments later, he heard it. More clicks, but not of the ruined jaws of these creatures, things of spoiled meat and madness. No. Heavier, and more metallic clicks. An infinitely more familiar sound for an old soldier such as he.

It was not a comforting familiarity.

His muscles twitched and the Force slammed into his brain with all the Force of a holotrain, every synapse firing in screaming warning him to--

PEWPEWPEWPEWPEWPEWPEWPEPEWPEW!

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

The creatures made up for their lack of marksmanship with enthusiasm and sheer volume. Waves and waves of crimson shards flew at him. The air boiled with their concentrated heat and ozone was thick in there. The Force pressed back and he breathed in, the close charred air not o’er-bothering him. His lightsaber no longer buzzed, so much as it continually hummed, stroke and counter-stroke barely differentiated from the other in furious effort. At times like this, he preferred to let the eddies and waves of the Allgiving guide him and felt as much a spectator as an actor of the flesh.

Still, if the spirit was willing, the flesh could only do so much. His breaths became more labored and his arms burned in effort as he angled, batted, struck, riposted, and parried every last blaster bolt aimed at him and his vicinity.

Balthazar heard a beep and an exclamation of female triumph. He felt another twinge in the Force and dove back. A few stray blaster beams narrowly grazed his armor as he dove. He landed not ungracefully and then pressed himself flush against the elevator grille… which now slammed into him continually; he suppressed a wince.

“Sorry, wasn’t quite the idea I was going for,” Rhynde muttered.

Balthazar spared her a brief nod. He put a leg up and got nearly horizontal, his arm still windmilling against the withering firepower he faced. The bolts mostly went wide, but the narrow target the elevator door presented meant he got little respite. The corridor itself became thick with duraplast and marble dust as bolt after bolt ricocheted or was batted back. Neither Rhynde nor Balthazar were spared this thin film which now suffused the hallway.

“So much for the executive portico,” he heard Rhynde spit out over the din.

“At least you’ve got the power back up,” he replied evenly.

“Yeah, yeah, small victories,” she impatiently blew some of her red hair (and no small amount of duraplaster dust), now frizzed into a right mess out of her face and renewed her efforts, plugging in her datapad and swearing every now and then as prompts and more holographic prompts

Balthazar occasionally snuck a glance at his work but he knew well enough he was not quite in his element there. The rest was him, his saber, a torrent of blasterfire and the Force.

He was only dimly aware of two surprisingly strong hands (though given that she was Yelena’s daughter it ought not to have been so) pulling him back into the elevator

The door shut. The motor whirred.

And then off they went.

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

“We’re going up.”

“Metaphorically? Don’t think so.”

“No I meant literally.”

“Yes, yes. Well-spotted.”

“Might I ask why?”

“You’d prefer to go down? Where presumably more of those walking inkwells with teeth are?”

“Lovely image, but I suppose you’re right.”

“Bloody hell, you sound disappointed.”

“I am a knight, young lady and--”

“Yes yes, arse over elbows to go fight a dragon and then rescue some daft bint with a crown on her head (and nothing else there.)”

“Cheeky, but somewhat true. What if there are people trapped under there?”

“...”

“Yes, I know they’re already dead, but that brings me no comfort, Rhynde. I’ve watched too many die.”

“I… sorry. Look, old man, if it makes you feel any better…”

“I know, I can sense your unease.”

“Bloody creepy that is.”

“If it’s an invasion of your privacy I can--”

“--Nah, don’t worry about it. Plus, I imagine your hoodo’s right handy if those beasties corner us, innit?”


“...”

“You’re still a bloody nutter for wanting to fight those things.”

“Fighting happens to be one of the few things I am proficient in, Young Miss. And I’ll have you know a touch of eccentricity was expected in my family.”

“Bollocks. Don’t tell me you’re one of those fancy titled cunts I was just slagging off on.”

“....Nothing quite so grand. No Kings or Queens for three and a dozen generations.”

“But?”

“Mother was a marchioness… oh don’t you bow at me.”

“Hahaha-*sniffs*Ha! Oh that was funny. Thanks for that, old man. Or should I say milord? Didn’t know Mum was after a title though. Good tarting up on her part.”

“Thank you for that. And I am sure your mother thanks you for your epitaph.”

BANG!

HISSSSS!

“Are we slowing down? Is it supposed to do that?”

“No, and neither is it supposed to hiss and bang about. Oh stop looking like an eager schoolboy and go up top to investigate. I’ll see if I can get in touch with Mum or the Marechal or anyone that isn’t a monstrosity.”

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREAAAAAGGHHHH!

“...”

“There’s definitely something up there, isn’t there?”

“Better you than me. Go slay your dragon, Sir Knight.”

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

Fighting one of the “beasties” Balthazar Gallo soon learned, involved a few interesting lessons in biology --theirs and his.

Lesson the First:
Punching them was much like hitting sticky toffee.

Well? You couldn’t expect him to light his saber and swing it about near the elevator’s suspension cord. Even were they able to survive the precipitous fall, he was quite sure his paramour’s young woman would never let him hear the end of it.

So he dipped down, and shifted on his hips, the balls of his feet finding swift purchase on the durasteel top of the elevator. He weaved under a straight jab (a sinuous one extended like gum, since apparently these things could stretch themselves out like flesh-candy) and then got bopped about the ear for his trouble.

Lesson the Second:

He was not nearly so young as he once was.

And apparently couldn’t take a punch like he once did. He reeled, briefly heard a stentorian fugue, thought about sicking up a bit, and then righted himself, staring closely at where his opponent’s “chest” was supposed to be, and finding only what looked like bits and pieces of human teeth stuck to a jaw that was decidedly less so.

Well. At least the elevator kept moving.

Lesson the Third:

Keep moving, If you can.

Easier said than done, old boy.

Besides, every so often, he’d step back in the enclosed space and hit the well-magnetized and quite electric sides of the elevator shaft. The Force and his armor made the shock more irritating than painful, but his options were limited nonetheless.

Lesson the Fourth:

When losing, take stock of your strengths and weaknesses.

Namely, his armor. It was padded and tempered and even had a minor internal magnetic shield that protected it from electronic and electric attack.

“Rhyn*kaff*de!”

He managed to bite out her name as a limb the thickness of a tree trunk wrapped around his neck; even his poor gorget was being tested to bits now. Everything went rather fuzzy like some prankster had shaved peach bits over... well... everything.

My brain was obviously not in the right state for similies.

“What?!”

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the undercurrent of irritation in her tone. Besides, the lack of oxygen he was laboring under now made it seem rather wasteful. He’d roll her eyes at her later. Assuming he survived.

(Lesson the Fourth:

Conserve Energy --but that’s another story entirely--)

Lesson the Fifth:

Everyone Loves a Good Gloat (Yes Everyone)What else could you call the dead-fleshed thing hurling him about like a cheap bottle of whiskey. Still, he thought with dignity, he’d managed to get out a few more words.

Or at least he thought he did.

Balthazar Gallo meant to say, “Turn up the elevator power! I’ll do the rest.”

Rhynde heard it as a series of glugs and labored breaths.

She seemed to understand, and that was when...

Lesson the Sixth:

Strike at the right time. It may be your only… oh bollocks, I forgot how the rest of it goes.

He grappled the stretched arm, and pulled himself with it. The Force was rather a handy lever sometimes and he was able to pull/fall the thing with him for a few meters.

They hit the side of the shaft and electricity --sweet joyous abomination melting electricity-- coursed through his armor and went straight into Mssr. Beasties'… we shall be charitable and call it a body and not a ruined wedding-cake of flesh.

Lesson the Seventh:

Never miss a chance to shock your opponent.

It melted, screeched, flopped and then jacknifed away, leaving nothing more than a greasy remain of bone and flesh on the side of the shaft walls. Even that whirred by as the elevator picked up speed. Balthazar barely had time to make his way back in when--

Bing.

“Thank you for using the TIPS elevator. You are now near the administrative and media centre. Today’s lunch special is..”

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

She did not comment on his run-in with the creature. His pride, mean thing so whittled by the Pits that it was, thanked her for that. He did not comment on whatever it was she had spoken with the Marechal about. Her conscience thanked him for that.

But it was there on her face regardless. A misery thick like bile lay under her pores and for a brief moment every part had twisted in utmost agony.

And then resolve. She had so much of her mother in her then that Balthazar felt an absurd father’s pride… if for a moment.

She had a plan.

The journey itself was surprisingly easy. None molested them; they were going up, after all, and redundancy had been built in for years into Char’s space elevator (how else would one expect such a massive industrial hub to supply and deliver?) system so an appropriate mainframe was not hard to find.

Even two years of relative inactivity --but that was a story for another day-- had not dulled the efficacy of these systems.

“The datapad,” she murmured as they stared at the giant terminal that controlled TIPS own access point to the space elevator, “We were nowhere near containment, you know.”

“They’ve started escaping then?”

“Yes, and it’s only a matter of time before…”

“Topside.”

He knew she’d need some goading and while he might never be her father --regret ran through him now for the first time-- he could give her this much, pitching his voice in that swotty, plummy way he knew she hated, “You know what you have to do then don’t you?”

To his great pleasure, she snorted and gave him a hard look that seemed to come easy to the people of Char.

“Yeah. Yeah I reckon I do.”

She stepped over to the terminal and with a few keystrokes began the process.

“Six o'clock - TV hour. Don't get caught in foreign towers.
Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn.
Locking in, uniforming, book burning, blood letting.
Every motive escalate. Automotive incinerate.
Light a candle, light a votive. Step down, step down.
Watch your heel crush, crushed, uh-oh, this means no fear, cavalier.
Renegade steer clear! A tournament, tournament, a tournament of lies.
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline.

It's the end of the world as we know it!
It's the end of the world as we know it!
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine!”

 

[blstrgmr]

Prospero had been making trips in and out of the tunnels in various parts of the establishment before its explosion, prompting others to get in. Following that, he did his best to quietly help stragglers and other civilians in at more discreet and unattended parts of the city. Unfortunately for the most part, Char was almost completely occupied by the Imperial forces.

The sniper resided on the East side of the city, helping one last family into the tunnels and making sure their route was secure. As an added bonus, the family offered him some ammunition for his personal rifle. Apparently, the father of the family had some good taste in weaponry as a hunter. Prospero sighed, wondering if this war would be worth it. A lot of civilians were taken down in the crossfire. Even some of the basic infantry he had gunned down never knew what hit them. What really hit home was the enemy counter-sniper he managed to take down. That trooper had probably thought the same as Prospero. He might've just wanted to save the lives of those working with him. The Rebellion wasn't any better than the Imperium. Neither of them should have a say in controlling the galaxy. But...for now, the Imperium shouldn't be where it was.

It had been a long while since Prospero had seen the jedi woman during his initial deployment. He hadn't seen her enter his area of the tunnels either at the Retreat. The sniper keyed his comms to try and locate Aluae. "Overwatch to Aluae, come in. You safe?" Without much of a response, Prospero repeated the line again, but still radio silence.

Putting himself further into the tunnel entrance and grabbing some corner cover, he jacked his datapad into the comms, placing the signal to transmit and following it. "Damn it." The datapad was stating that the signal was bouncing to one of the Imperium CPs he had observed. The signal wasn't currently moving about, so that meant that she was either dead, or captured. Prospero could only hope she was alive; the Imperium wouldn't have bothered to drag a body back to their CP. Well...leave no man behind. They'd need her if they wanted to keep things even with the Imperium...even if it was just a war of attrition.

Prospero keyed his comms, trying to remember previous reports. Datapad stored away, Prospero tried to get in contact with somebody he knew would be in the field. "Overwatch to Corto, come in. Been doing some pinging, we might need to mount up for a rescue op. I'm over on the east side-"

Prospero was promptly lifted off the ground and thrown at the ceiling. It was more shocking than it was painful. Bits of gravel raised up as well before being spun around randomly and dropped back to the floor. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. The next thing he heard was complete silence, followed by creaking. Random intermittent creaking and groaning, quiet. Soon, it would get louder and more frequent. It was only when the sniper looked to the sky and saw the Star Destroyer's size slowly increasing, that he was able to put some basic logic together. Things were happening, and they were bad. Run.

"Stay in the tunnels! Something big's happening, get as entrenched and holed up as you can! Brace!" The sniper would shout into his comms before retreating further in, ushering the family he had previously helped in with him.

 

[The Kyzer]

"She carried only these with her," one of the Stormtroopers holding the captive reported, handing over two very different lightsabers.

The monster known as Adrasteia took them and clipped them to her utility belt. The girl was healing from her injuries, but not fast enough to pose a threat to her as of yet. Plus the tall woman wanted to strike her foe down with honor and dignity and not as a shameful headsman. That was not her role in the galaxy.

"Give her medical treatment and sedate her," Adrasteia commanded, "and prepare her for trans-"

Her words were drowned out by a terrifying scream that echoed through the tunnels. Then came a couple reports of blasters before several more screams joined the first one. Suddenly the Command Center was dead-silent as fear crept through the subways. Of course, Adrasteia did the first thing that came to mind.

"Prepare to repel assault. All troopers to defense stations. Weapons-free. You shoot anything that doesn't have a friendly IFF tag on sight."

The Stormtroopers snapped into action as the Sith's crisp orders broke their trance of horror. There was only one-continuous tunnel here that linked up with several more farther down the lines. As such, the troops here only had to defend two possible entryways and both were already rigged with explosives in the event of a Rebel sneak-attack. Even then, basic fortifications and gun emplacements had been erected and an improvised armory established between both points. Adrasteia was confident that these defenses, especially with the men manning them, could hold against any attacker. However, the sickening feelings she was getting from the Force gave her pause. Then she manually seized the captive Jedi and tossed her to the side. The Sith didn't notice that she'd tossed Aluae into some medical supplies, but she didn't really care right now.

Adrasteia picked up her shield and prepared to lead the defense with an E75A1 blaster in her hand. She had just reached the fortification facing south with the first of her enemies appeared. It was a huge jet-black humanoid though the only word she could really use to describe it was monster. Immediately, Imperial troops opened fire. The beast fell and the Stormtroopers ceased their barrage. However, a few seconds later, the creature stirred before standing up once more.

"That's not possible!"

"What is that thing!"

"It doesn't matter. Open fire! Vaporize the frakking beast!"

The tunnel was filled with blaster fire and the creature's oily skin sizzled from the plasma bolts. A second creature then appeared out of the shadows, though this one looked more akin to a Sluissi than a true humanoid. Then another, and another. Within moments, the tramway was populated by a horde of the monstrous creatures. Even worse, it seemed that no matter how much damage the Stormtroopers inflicted, the beasts would just get back up and continue. On the bright side, the sheer firepower of the Imperium had managed to stop the beasts from advancing more than a few inches before they fell again.

"Thermal Detonators! Now!"

The Stormtroopers then hurled the small devices at once into the swirling mass of beasts. The resulting blast instantly vaporized the horde and some semblance of hope was restored. It seemed that the monsters could be destroyed and that was good enough for them for now.

Suddenly the underground lighting flickered and the localized sensors started screaming about the sudden massive power drain. However, none of the Imperial troops were close enough to the computer screens to actually notice it themselves outside of the lights dimming. Even then, the heat of battle had taken a hold of them and they were beyond caring about any lighting issues.

---

As the final insurgent elements retreated into the Retreat, Imperial troops charged in right on their heels. In fact, the Stormtroopers would have caught many of the stragglers had they not had to ensure that every room and corridor of the complex was clear of rebel scum before pressing onward. Nearly two-hundred Stormtroopers were inside of the building when the rebels sprang their little trap. The Emperor's Retreat suddenly became a plume of flame, dust, and debris. An unlucky AT-ST was also destroyed as a huge piece of the Retreat's roofing squashed it like an insect.

The Imperials outside were horrified by the move but were too experienced to show it. It's what they would have done in their enemies' shoes. They still found it distasteful. Far above the city, the Imperial Star Destroyer Vindicator hovered like a malevolent cloud of death and destruction. The captain merely sighed when reports of the Rebel trap at the museum came in. It merely reaffirmed the Imperial propaganda about how the insurgents were merely anarchistic terrorists. Personally he thought it a sign of his impending victory that the rebels had resorted to such desperate measures.

"Sir, we're reading massive power surges in the industrial quarter of the city."

"What tricks has that rebel trash come up with now? Order both air and ground units in the area to investigate it. I'm not a fan of surprises."

"Yes, sir."

---

TIE Pilot Lieutenant Brenden Grahms got the order to investigate a power surge in the city's southern moiety and relayed the command to the rest of his squadron. Designated TS-362 in the Imperial Armed Forces registry, they collectively referred to themselves as the Nightcats and had a collective kill-total of two-hundred and seven. The twelve TIEs flew in a loose sweeping formation as they bathed the area with their sensors. Below, three Stormtrooper squads jogged through the streets and encircled the area. It didn't take long for them to all ascertain the source of the sudden energy spike. The orbital elevator.

Comprised of several massive repulsor coils built into a single gargantuan vertical shaft, the orbital elevator was built to transport raw and manufactured goods to and from the various loading platforms that orbited Naboo. As such, it was capable of lifting several million pounds of cargo tremendous distances.

"This is Nightcat Lead to Vindicator Control," Lieutenant Grahms declared after keying his comm-unit, "It seems the insurgents are powering up the orbital elevator. I suspect that they will try and use it as a possible method of escape. Please advise."

"Control to Nightcat One, begin orbital overwatch of elevator and maintain safe distance. Do not fly over target area. We are bringing in support to close off possible rebel escape."

"Roger that, Control. Nightcats are moving into position."

"Who did we piss off to deserve this sleemo assignment?" Nightcat Six asked on the squadron's encrypted frequency.

"Probably Seven again. I heard he bagged the Captain's daughter," Nightcat Eleven answered.

"A gentleman doesn't reveal such things, lads," Nightcat Seven replied, "nor does he speak of the daughter's more interesting body piercings."

Immediately a chorus of hooping and laughter filled the comm channel before the Lieutenant stepped in.

"Stow the chatter. We've got a job to do, and I don't want to hear any more belly-aching about it. Is that clear?"

An avalanche of "Yes, sir"s followed by silence affirmed Grahm's control of his men.

---

TS-362's report was further substantiated by the ground troops, and the captain was pleased. If the pathetic insurgents thought they were going to slip by him and the Imperial Navy, they would pay for such insolence with their lives. Still, he wasn't so arrogant as to not ensure his victory a bit further by calling for back-up. The Imperial Star Destroyer Andraste's Wrath was now descending into the upper-atmosphere of Naboo near the pinnacle of the orbital elevator's effective reach and waited.

"This will be another great addition to my autobio-"

The Captain's boastful words were cut off by the entire deck suddenly jerking to one side. Massive rivets began to break free of the deck plates they had held in as the Star Destroyer were twisted violently in a manner akin to wringing out a wet cloth. Deafening alarm klaxons sounded and the entire ship was bathed in red emergency lighting. The ship communications were suddenly overloaded with screams for aid and of warning as several key components were damaged or destroyed instantly by the sudden wrenching.

Sadly, no one aboard the ship was in any position to render aid as the gravity inside the ship was multiplied many times over. The captain was pinned to the floor alongside his partially-destroyed commander's chair. All he could do was watch in horror as the altimeter on his command console was bleeding numbers like it was going out of style. Suddenly the Imperial officer's mind was consumed by one thought...

Who would write his biography now?

---

The orbital elevator's power torqued the Imperial Star Destroyer violently as it brought it crashing down. The Vindicator's doom was sealed when another massive metal body slammed into it from above. The Andraste's Wrath, now severely crumpled along the bow and stern, impacted the Vindicator with enough force to cause some parts of it to merge. The combined ball of twisted steel and failing technology finally made contact with the city of Char in its southern quadrant but the resulting blast combined with the force of impact not only leveled the vast majority of the city, but also hollowed out a three-kilometer wide crater.

Nearly all of the city's inhabitants above ground were incinerated instantly, Imperial, insurgent, and local alike. A few of the Imperial Walkers managed to protect their inhabitants from the devastation but at the cost of their own usefulness. In fact, only two Imperial walkers, both AT-STs, were still in any condition to fight as they were protected by surprisingly resilient buildings. The entire city was now enveloped a huge cloud of smoke and ash.

---

Darkness.

The Force was crying out in pain as millions of lives were snuffed out at once.

Couldn't focus. Couldn't breathe.

Adrasteia belatedly realized that a huge chunk of permacrete was resting on her chest. She managed to get a solid grip on it and heaved it off of her. There was a slight amount of movement to her right and she could faintly make out a Stormtrooper's boot before a cold dim glow filled the area. Stormtrooper bodies and rubble littered the floor. The entire tramway had caved in on both ends and the astounding amount of darkness over by the stairwell told the Sith warrior that it was blocked as well. That was a bit...disheartening. She looked over at the source of the glow and saw a heavily wounded Imperial officer holding a large glow rod with one arm while seemingly holding his organs where they belonged with the other. The man solemnly saluted her before his life force fled his body.

That was before Adrasteia noticed the two lightsabers she'd taken from the Jedi slowly roll on the ground. Suddenly the two weapons leaped into the air and dashed off into the shadows. The Sith picked up her shield and firmly grabbed her own lightsaber's hilt just as the missing lightsabers ignited in the darkness.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

 

[Phoenix]

As he made his way out of the smoke his comms picked up the faintest signal, but it was garbled by static and interference, most likely because of his position in the sewer. He did, however, catch his name and something about a rescue mission, but it would have to wait until he was out of the sewer and could get a clear signal. He checked his datapad, saw that the call had come from another rebel, Tyler Prospero, and made a mental note to find out what was going on when he could.

For now, he needed to find a way out of the sewers, and possibly out of the city. He made his way further into the underground sewage lines and was yet again assaulted by the repugnant smells of open sewage, although he was happy to be out of the smoke, even if for a moment. No sooner had he finished with these thoughts than he was confronted by some {i]thing.[/i] That was really all he could call it. It was hardly human and he had no idea if it was sentient, although it was in a vaguely humanoid shape. In the darkness of the sewer it looked like it was covered in an oily blackness, although that may have simply been feces, and the strange screeching sound emanating from its mouth gave the definitive impression that it wasn’t friendly, whatever it was.

He raised his rifle and fired, the buck of the rifle causing the first round to strike in the chest and the second to strike just below the neck. He moved forward, expecting to move past the dead creature, but as he did, it became apparent that it wasn’t actually dead. Pulling itself back together and allowing its own oily flesh to cover over the burned outer crust, it rose from the floor and began to charge after him. No one goes into battle without fear, but as a soldier, Corto had learned to cope with, and overcome fear. However, in that moment terror found him again.
A monster was charging at him and it didn’t seem capable of dying. Raising his rifle once more, he didn’t bother himself with whether or not he could kill it; his mind was on slowing or stopping it. He began pulling the trigger as quickly as he could while maintaining accuracy as the heavy kick of the A-560 bucked against his shoulder. About 75% of the rounds hit and after about seven more shots, the creature lay on the ground. He kept his rifle trained this time as he made his way closer to the thing.

Standing directly over the creature, he poked it with the barrel of his rifle ready to jump back if it proved to still be alive. It still wasn’t fricking dead! It swung its arm up, the one farthest from Corto, and tried to impale him with its right claw. That was it. He had had enough of this. He fully pressed the double stage trigger on his rifle unleashing the remaining half a magazine into the creature at point blank range.

The charred remains of the creature lay on the ground and the stench of burning flesh and feces filled his nostrils. It was enough to make even the strongest stomach retch, which his what Corto almost did. At least the thing was actually dead now. That was what mattered most. It had no sign of movement. If it took what? Almost two dozen rounds from a high powered rifle to put this thing down, he shuddered at the thought. He knew that not all of those rounds may have been necessary, but it still took way too many for his liking.

But there was never a moments rest today. Before he could even finish coming to grips with what he had just seen, the ground above and below him shook like an earthquake. This one even larger than what had occurred with the detonation of the Emperor’s Retreat. Had something just happened to the city? His question couldn’t be answered until he got above ground. He took off at a sprint, or at least as close to one as he could get without slipping on the slick walkways of the sewer, toward the nearest exit.

Quickly climbing a ladder to the first manhole, he gave a hard shove but the hatch didn’t even budge. That was strange. He tried again, but to no avail. Something must have been on top of it, holding it down. Realizing he needed to find another alternative, he made his way down the ladder and further along the walkway, hoping against hope that he didn’t encounter another one of those black monsters.

Eventually he found his way to another exit, this one into a crawlspace below one of the local resident’s homes. He wasn’t sure what caused the people of Char to build such an elaborate underground tunnel/sewer system, but he was certainly glad they had.

His moment of thankfulness was quickly diminished as he pushed open the door that should have led from the crawlspace into some random person’s house. Instead of inquisitive faces or even Imperial faces looking down at him, he was met by smoke and dust. It poured into the crawlspace as it searched for an escape from the filled house. Corto once again found himself coughing and choking as he fought for a breath of fresh air, ever thankful for the mask that he wore over his face that at least filtered a small amount of the sediment that now fought to fill his lungs.

He made his way up the stairs to the top floor of the building and looked out. There was less dust up here and it was slightly more breathable as he looked out in awe at what lay before him. Words couldn’t describe the horror of what he saw. Not only was the front of the building he stood in gone, but hundreds of buildings throughout the city had been flattened. Smoke filled the sky, and hundreds of dead bodies lay mangled and burning in the streets. He saw a few, like himself, staggering out of nearby buildings, blood and soot covering their bodies. And at the center of the carnage was a mangled heap of what he thought had once been a Star Destroyer or perhaps two? “Is anyone out there? Did anyone else survive that?” he asked into his comms choking and coughing as he did, hoping for anyone to respond. The shock of what he was seeing still setting in.

 

[Sierrien]

So much had happened in a short period of time that Aluae wasn't even sure what to think anymore. First, there was an invasion of - well, some weird black things that just didn't want to die. Then she had been thrown aside carelessly by the Sith, and she knew it was careless because she had landed in a pile of medical supplies. She quickly pulled out and used whatever kind of healing the imperials used on herself, and it helped her to breath a little easier. Then had come thermal detonators that had all but vaporized the strange black creatures.

It had also caused some of it to splatter, hitting her in the face and chest and almost making her gag at the smell. Ugh, what was this stuff? She had meanwhile found some medical tools and was trying to use them as a makeshift lock-pick on the cuffs she was wearing, but the black stuff was all kinds of distracting. And then just as she had finally clicked the cuffs free, there was an explosion and she momentarily blacked out. She awoke to find that not only was she a good ten feet from where she had been, but she was no longer cuffed and mysteriously unarmed as well. She also wasn't sure, but it seemed to her that she was seeing better than she should be due to the relative lack of light.

She put that thought out of her mind as she saw the Sith who had killed Saviin throw a chunk of duracrete off of herself. Aluae's eyes fixed on her own Saber and Saviin's, which had somehow come free of the woman's belt. She reached out with the force and they slid along the ground before snapping up to her hands, quickly ignited. The Sith had of course noticed her, and called out along the short distance that separated them. "You killed my friend. I'll stop when you're finished."

Her voice was firm with resolve as she immediately barges forward at the Sith; she had at least learned enough to us the Force to form a barrier around herself. Her ribs were still injured - though strangely not bothering her anymore, she assumed she must have simply gone numb - and the barrier would protect her from another telekinetic force punch. At least she was pretty sure it would protect her from most of it. The barrier was invisible, as usual, so the Sith would also have to sense it in order to know it was there. She didn't know how to hide it though, so it would be easy enough to sense.

She still didn't fully know how to deal with the shield, but they were in a somewhat more open area than the last time they had fought. So Aluae simply trusted in the force to keep her barrier strong as she charged forward, aiming to use her speed and agility to her advantage. She had two blades, so it would likely form out to be a flurry of fast-paced strikes as she used the terrain to her advantage and leapt around - she wasn't super great at Ataru yet, but it seemed to fit the situation better. She would try to use her speed to either get around the shield or in behind Adrasteia; likely easier said than done.

 

[blstrgmr]

Prospero's vision was hazy, he certainly felt a great deal of the shockwave being so close to one of the entrances. He slowly picked himself off the ground, the and faintly saw the family he had ushered in was gathered in the corner, the father shielding the wife and daughter with his body. They seemed to be okay...until that thing arrived. Black and formless...vaguely humanoid. It just tore through the father like nothing, its claws like blades. Prospero couldn't help but retch from its stench, and the visual sight of the man's back being ripped apart.

With a quick comm key, Prospero would shout, "We need a medic at my position!" before running forward. Putting his full body weight forward, he slammed into the creature and knocked it to the ground, getting it away from the family. It swiped with claws, which Prospero backed away from narrowly. A second swing was parried by the metal frame of his blaster rifle. A swift boot to its apparent head went right through it. These creatures were...delicate, yet...there was considerable force needed to create the hole. When the flesh began to form around his ankle, he quickly shook it free and bounded backward, leveling his gun.

He targeted the hole of its head, and fired shot after shot. When it seemed to lay still on the ground, he observed it closely, thinking the job was finished...only to find it reforming again. He emptied half the magazine into it before it lay still. Another couple of stomps confirmed it. Prospero was only lucky it didn't ambush him first, else it would have likely wounded him. Thankfully, a rebel medic was tending to the father. It would be debilitating, and probably permanent scarring, but slapping a bit of bacta on for a good long while would help him see recovery in the future. "This is Overwatch, checking in. Sound off, everybody alright?" He called over the radio. Prospero approached the entrance of his area of the tunnels and looked out at the destruction. He was forced to remove goggles and a respirator from his gear pack and equip them. "They...they dropped a god damn Star Destroyer on us." There was more firing echoing from down within the tunnels, as well as yelling and shouting. Must've been more of those...things.

He wandered out into the wreckage and destruction, breathing through the mask around his face. It would take a while for the dust to settle. He could see the faint silhouette of a Destroyer's two globes of of a bridge in the distance. "If you can hear me down there in the tunnels, all Rebel forces, pick a job. Either get topside to search for survivors, or get below and find out what the hell those black things are." Speaking to one of the soldiers near him, he managed to trade the sight of his assault rifle for something thermal to place on his sniper rifle. He switched his weapon out and made the adjustment before venturing out into the wastes, clearing houses and searching for people. There were many bodies crushed and killed, others wounded but alive. Whoever did this...they'd given them an opening at a great cost. "Overwatch to anybody alive, got some survivors, I'm sending them out of the city limits to stay hidden. Advise that you do the same to anybody you encounter if they're able. All medics, get topside. Civies first. Use any number of the side entrances or sewer grates." From there, Prospero decided that he would be be alone. Under the cover of the dust storm and debris kicked up, the sniper stalked around the buildings and streets of Char, searching for survivors...or his next target.

 

[The Kyzer]

The girl showed spirit. That was good. It would soothe Adrasteia's sense of honor, warped as it was. She also seemed less injured that previously thought. Maybe there was a fight to be had here after all.

Adrasteia readied herself for the Jedi's charge and grimaced. Tenacious, but foolhardy. The girl bounced around like a damnable lagomorph hopped up on amphetamines. The Sith woman stood like a statue and watched her foe carefully. The girl finally actually engaged the Sith, and it was with enough ferocity to cause the armored woman to backpedal a bit. The Jedi and her lightsabers were like a blur as she pressed the attack on the lonely Imperial agent. In the gloom, Adrasteia fought for her life with the composure of a stone monolith. The girl was dashing and leaping here and there to try and throw the larger woman off-balance but the Sith kept her footing and blocked each blow with her own armaments though it was difficult to see in this poor lighting. Then Adrasteia remembered something. Something about the Jedi's Form...

The much larger woman smirked briefly before parrying one of Aluae's thrusts. She then made a couple quick jabs of her own at the Jedi's feet with eagerness. True to Form IV, Aluae would dodge these attacks by leaping up and over Adrasteia, who would then slam her shield into the girl's exposed back. The strike would send the already-injured Jedi into the permacrete ceiling before falling back down onto the Sith if she were standing still. Adra would not, however, as she would simply side-step, slash the girl with a strong horizontal cut, then slam her with the shield again to cause the soon-to-be corpse to fly across the dimly lit tomb.

Yes, tomb. A fitting description for such a place.

"Your quest to avenge your friend is over, girl. Die with what little dignity you have left."

Finally, to end it all, Adrasteia threw her lighsaber into a nearby already-damaged support pillar with the Force. After calling it back to her hand, the Sith yanked with all of her might on the rapidly-decaying column with her telekinetic power. As such, the ceiling, and the road above, would come crashing down onto the broken Jedi's body.

Yes, tomb. A fitting description, indeed.

 

[BLADE]

“Fook!"

SPLASH!

DRIP!

"Fook!"

SPLASH! SPLASH! DRIP!

“ Fook! Fook! Son of a--”

She cut herself short. At least they were fortunate enough --judging by the pungent smell of stale rain-- to only be in the overflow part of the sewers. Her pad was already shorting out, and?

Oh yes. She was having to hoist two-hundred odd pounds of her mum’s newest… friend (the word paramour made you sound like a twat to be honest, and she’d rather not think about the word “mum” and “lover” in the same sentence) on a bit of inclined tunnel.

Her boots --”Hrgh!”-- struggled to find purchase. Think rivulets of faded-grey water, with tiny bobs and bits of flotsam swirling about it-- splashed around her. A thick bit of durasteel rope was looped at her belt on one end and hooked at the other to the old man’s armor.

She supposed she couldn’t entirely blame him. She knew little of the Force, but she’d seen his nose bleed, his eyes glaze, and had almost felt the pain roiling through him. On an academic level she had hoped (and still did) that most of her fellow Charristés had evacuated the city, but then the knight from beyond the stars had roiled over in unholy pain, howled like something not quite human and fainted.

What could she do?

Make it topside. Hope to rendezvous with someone. Anyone. Or anything that wasn’t covered in molten black flesh-tar and--

“Kraaaaaaaggghhhh!”

She paused. Her breathing hard enough that she could barely think over it, though she had scarcely noticed. No. She stared at the expanse of darkness in front of her, a narrow tunnel zigging up and running parallel to the water table under the old Royal Quarter (if Char was anything, it was republican, of course.)

She heard that sound again, the wheezy hiss-moan and thumbed off the safety on her blaster pistol.
For a moment, the shadows seemed to move. Shift with some type of roiling purpose. She was sure she caught size of hardened talon once, but then… nothing. As if a shade had come and passed and all was bright again.

She snorted, eyeing one of the dead pigeons caught up in the storm overflow.

Bright was a rather relative term.

“Seems like they have the same idea old man,” she muttered quietly.

And that was grim news indeed.

Their necrotic little friends were making their way up.

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

IMPERIAL HOLOCABLE - THEED SOLAR OUTPOST

**SENSITIVE MATERIAL - HANDLE WITH CARE*

​

THE FOLLOWING IS PART OF THE WORK OF XENOBIOLOGIST DOCTOR RHESS ULTRECH (DEGREE NEW BASTION)

I suppose it is a great fortune --great indeed!!!-- that I was compensated for my previous work with the Psychomatic Division of Imperial Intelligence-- with an assignment here. Were it not for the consistent rumors abounding of TIPS previous work there --life unto death, negrido and albedo--

​

We must go there immediately. Local telemetry indicates the Prime Specimen is emerging from the ground now… and… and she is magnificent. The ruins of the city provide a prime stalking ground for her. She’s bigger than our armored vehicles if that much is to be believed. Much bigger. Several hundred metres tall and many times as long. Not quite the size of a starship… but... Euryptid in form. Doused in the same polydermal black matter we had been tracking in the underground medical market.

​

Request permission to touch ground immediately.

She’s… she’s hungry.

 

[vamp]

Matt coughed, then looked at the Mandalorian.

"Yeah, I still have some energy left, or so I think."

An enormous blast shook the tunnels. Matt stumbled a little, then balanced himself on a wall. He retracted his hand quickly with a look of disgust at the slimy surface. Sounds echoed in the tunnels, guttural shrieks, human screams and other indistinguishable, yet equally horrifying sounds. As the smoke continued pouring in, Matt looked at the Mandalorian's injuries.

"Hmmm, stay still for a little, I may be able to help you with that," he murmured. Matt hadn't had much formal training with Force healing, but he'd dabbled in it a little in his free time.

Matt closed his eyes and stuck his hands out, palms pointed at the Mandalorian, and did his best to channel the Force, and healed his wounds to a certain extent. The man was still going to feel slight aching, but the blood had stopped pouring out of him and his wounds were closed. Proud of himself for once, Matt opened his eyes and noticed a dark figure approaching fast. it seemed... inhuman.

"Nope."

Matt put one hand forward and used the Force to make a barricade in the tunnel, dividing them and the beast. It shrieked in frustration and panted violently.

"Let's get a move on before we get cornered," he suggested to the Mandalorian.

 

[Richie B.]

Norin saw the creature slowly walk towards them, he couldn't get a good look at it, but he didn't need to, since the screams and other noise was creepy enough. When the Jedi was finished healing him which Norin was glad for, made a wall of rubble and other stuff to separate them and the creature. Though Norin wouldn't mind fighting the thing, he didn't have the ammo or equipment for a fight.

"Thank kid, glad to see a Jedi that at least acts like a Jedi. But don't push yourself to much we don't know what else we will have to fight, an we will need to be smart if we are to one day tell of this battle." Norin said as he began to walk, heading in the opposite direction than the creature they saw.

He carried his Beskad in his right hand, and his brothers TASKMASTER MK II pistol in his left. He hoped they won't met any more of those creatures but with noises everywhere, he was sure they will be meeting more of them very soon. He finally noticed how much better his body felt, though he still ached and he wasn't fully healed he would be able to do more now. Sighing internally because now Norin owed the Jedi and now on his honor he would have to pay back the Jedi anyway he could.

 

[Sierrien]

Everything concidered, this fight was going much better than it had outside in the narrow alley. She was able to use her speed and the flighty movements of form IV to seemingly keep the shield-toting behemoth at bay, and perhaps even on her toes. A backpedal from the woman at their initial encounter had bolstered her spirits and resolve; she could do this if she pressed just a bit harder. She tapped deeper in to her limited Force reserves, tieing herself out quickly in hopes of finishing the fight soon. Her opponent wasn't even able to counter attack against her quick motions for the first few furious flurries of the fight. Yes, it seemed she might actually be able to avenge Saviin.

And then she learned that would never happen. A calculated few strikes came at her legs and she compensated by making a leap over the woman's head; the spin-flip had been anticipated and a jarring hit of the shield slammed in to her form, blasting her upwards in to the ceiling with enough force to slam the breath from her and re-break her ribs. It caused her to wheeze as she fell, spinning and barely managing to get Saviin's lightsaber interposed between herself and the woman's horizontal slash to stave off the worst of it. Her frantic parry only deflected it though, and after the bounce the red saber severed her own left arm cleanly just below the elbow. She didn't even have the breath to scream with - though she dimly noted there didn't seem to be any pain. She must have been in shock.

Before she could reason anything else out, her hand holding Saviin's lightsaber hit the floor just as she was slammed hard again with that damnable shield. Flying back to land hard in some rubble, with more than a few broken bones to add to her ribs, it was all she could do to continue taking in short, shallow breaths as she stared back at the Sith. Unable to answer the woman or retort at all, the light was already leaving her eyes when the support beam was destroyed and the ceiling fell on to her. And then there was darkness, and one last though going through her mind - Laing with how strange it was that none of this hurt - "I had so many plans; so much good to do for the Galaxy. And then I died, and I hadn't gotten to do any of it yet."

---

The inky black sludge that had been splattered on Aluae's clothing stirred, as if it had a life of its own. Slowly it started to spread, multiplying itself exponentially until it had formed a thin film covering the dead woman. It was an ever changing mutagen, and even dead flesh could serve a purpose in the grand scheme of science.

 

[The Kyzer]

Threat terminated.

That's all that mattered to her. Well, all that mattered to her until a massive shadow blocked out the blurry light that filtered into the subway terminal through the gaping hole in the ceiling. Another threat. Another notch on her lightsaber. Another tribute to the grand ideal of true justice. Well, at least that's what Adrasteia was thinking before a soul-rending screech filled the city. Adrasteia scrambled up the rubble-mound to street-level and looked up to see a massive beast of truly epic proportions.

Her first and really only thoughts were a quick accounting for her personal assets and the realization that she didn't have the weaponry required to kill such a beast. Put simply, she needed bigger guns. It was then that she actually took in a view of the city, or what was left of it, and sighed. The near-total destruction of Char would make killing the monster a bit more difficult.

The damnable insurgents destroyed the city and unleashed the creature.

The evidence was clear. The Imperials had strict orders to not destroy the city entirely while the rebels had no such compulsions. They were anarchist scum who deserved nothing but a quick and violent death, and Adrasteia was always willing to oblige them that reward. Still, the monster above her would not be felled easily. Maybe she could call in an air strike? Possible, but not with her personal comlink. It was simply too weak. She needed a full communications array to get the message to the fleet in orbit. The one in what used to be her forward command post was destroyed in the initial quake, which Adra now assumed was the catastrophic destruction of the Star Destroyer Vindicator. Of course, the Imperial walkers had communication systems strong enough to accomplish the feat, but most of them were near Emperor Palpatine's Retreat. That left her with one option: hike to the Retreat.

She hopped back down into the subway tunnel as she pulled up a tactical map of the city. The city and its subterranean foundations, which were a matter of public record, appeared on a small holographic projection on her forearm. The path above ground was simple enough since the main roads in this area led directly to the Retreat itself, but Adrasteia has a sneaking suspicion that it was the more dangerous path for her to take, especially with ScorpioZilla breathing down her neck. A minute later, the Sith cut through a local drainage hatch and dropped into the city sewage system.

No one had ever said that her duty was a glamorous one.

 

[vamp]

As the filthy water sloshed underneath their feet, Matt was deep in thought. Echoes of screams and screeches continued to ring out across the tunnels. The ground shook, water dripping from the ceiling with each thump. They'd already passed one corpse. It was indistinguishable. Covered in blood, and beaten to a pulp, its clothes ripped, limbs missing, ripped off. As Matt passed by it, all he could think of were those damn monsters. He wasn't moved or pitied anyone, since he's seen worse. He was more fascinated than scared by the beasts that had been unleashed on the city.

As they turned a corner, they almost ran into what seemed to be a boulder. Upon closer inspection, from a distance, of course, Matt realized that it was a human. Scratching his chin, he looked closer. Is that a man, or a woman? he thought, utterly baffled. The person's back was turned, and soon enough, he noticed a lightsaber. His arm instantly flew to his own saber, and Matt turned to the Mandalorian, then pointed.

 

[Richie B.]

Norin was behind the kid the entire time an with his pistol out was ready for anything though he was low on ammo, the sewers were pretty wide yet there was rubble everywhere thanks to the explosion and tremors that was happening, though he hasn't check yet he was sure the Imperium was at fault for that. Eventually the kid stopped him, and pointed to a figure in front of them, it was wearing armor and had a giant shield, but what caught his attention was the lightsaber the women had on her. The kid wouldn't have stopped him if he knew who it was, that just makes the chances the woman is a sith all the higher. Taking a moment to think of a plan, after thinking about it he pulled the kid towards a pile of rubble which was about as high as Norin's chest, so Norin crouched down so he wouldn't be seen.

"Kid attack when I saw so but don't risk it if she is better than you fall back I will cover you." Norin said quietly hoping not to alert the sith, lifted his head and slowly took out his pistol that had 8 shots felt he was going to have to make it count.

"HEY SITH." Norin yelled waiting for the Sith to turn around and face them, aiming and firing his grappling cable at her shield.

"Go kid." Norin said quickly.

Once it had connected he fired 3 bolts at her, opposite to where the shield was. After that he took cover behind the rubble and pulled as hard as he could hoping to unbalance her so the kid would have a better chance to strike at her and for her not to be able to use the shield. If the kid called for help he would be able to shoot a few more bolts or come at the Sith with his Beskad.

 

[vamp]

Matt listened closely to the Mandalorian closely, already mapping it all out in his head. As the Mandalorian took out his pistol, Matt took his lightsaber off its holster and whipped his hair to the side of his face, an insane grin slowly spreading on his face. He covered it with a smirk, and waited.

"Hey Sith!"

With a small chuckle and a deep breath, Matt focused, channeling the Force to help him. Woosh. His lightsaber lit on and he charged the Sith, moving side to side, in case of any projectiles flying at him. The grappling hook flew past him toward the shield, and he could hear three bullets zooming past, aimed at the Sith. Let's do this shit, he thought to himself, as he reached the Sith.

 

[The Kyzer]

"HEY SITH."

Subtle.

Any other person might have made a remark using some form of humor. Sadly, Adrasteia didn't possess any real sense of humor, so she simply turned around to face her new foe. Only an enemy would call out a Sith warrior like that with such distaste. At least these opponents were a bit more clever than the last. They chose their battlefield carefully...or maybe they just ran across her by chance. Not that it mattered. They were her enemies, and they were attacking her.

Now to address the threat, or rather threats, to her person. The grappling hook. The lightsaber ignited as she swung, slicing the metal cable attached to the device and rendering it useless. A quick follow-up swing caught the blaster bolt triplets. Two bounced into the ceiling but the last was reflected toward the mysterious fool who fired it while yet another foolhardy Jedi insurgent thought to test their skill against the goddess of divine justice.

"Did you ever suspect that you'd die in a sewage system, boy?"

Adrasteia's lightsaber suddenly spouted a cross-guard of energy at its base. She extended the blade toward the charging Jedi, catching his blade on the guard, and twisted it down and to her left, which would divert the boy's charge and put him off-balance. That little key fact would serve her well as she continued the maneuver, which would either drag the Jedi to the ground where she would stomp on his chest cavity with enough force to crush it or the fool would lose his lightsaber. Another added benefit was that it placed the fool between Adrasteia and the gunman.

 

[Phoenix]

As he looked out at the destruction before him, he considered the fact that, despite all the destruction above ground, several of his fellow rebels had escaped from the Emperor’s Retreat by escaping to the underground tunnels. Although he hadn’t run into them yet, he decided that his best chance of finding other survivors would be the sewers themselves since that was where he had last seen them.

Making his way quickly back down the stairs he dropped into the crawlspace. Well, crawlspace may not have been quite the right term for it. It was large enough to stand up in, but ran under the house. He opened the door that led to the sewer with a slight scraping sound. Beyond the door was a small set of stairs leading down onto the small sewer walkway. He set off to find the wounded rebels.

He didn’t have to wait long, however, before fate, or the force or whatever, had led him to more people. From around a corner, he could hear the sound of a lightsaber activating. With the hard walls of the sewer the sound traveled quite well. Lightsaber means no blasters, he thought to himself as he slung the A560 over his shoulder and unslung his Verpine rifle.

Coming around the corner, he saw a Mandalorian and a Jedi beginning to attack a Sith. His night vision allowed extensive visuals within the dark tunnel, and even from the distance he was at – he didn’t plan on getting close to this Sith - he could see that the Sith had a shield and armor as well as her lightsaber. He was quick to react. He knelt to one knee for stability, leveled his rifle, and fired.

Only the Sith’s head was really available to aim at as the Jedi was in the way of the rest, but with 13 years of real world marksmanship training, Corto was a top of the line marksman, and he wouldn’t miss. There was no sound to alert his opponent of the incoming round as the rifle fired since its electromagnetic coils made no noise. With the speed that the rail gun round cut through the air, the Sith wouldn’t be able to raise that confounded shield or saber in time, despite her enhanced speed, and that Jedi would offer too much resistance for her to just swing him in front of it. It wasn’t the first time he had made a shot like this, and he didn’t plan on it being the last. If she moved her head it wouldn’t be a big deal. She might be able to move out of the way in time, if she were very lucky, but at least it would take the pressure off that poor Jedi.

 

[Richie B.]

Norin looked over the rubble to find that his grappling hook was cut middle way and that the Sith was about to kill the kid, jumping over the rubble taking out his Beskad and holding it in his right hand while his pistol was in his left hand. This was going to be dangerous and close he couldn't let the Sith kill the kid. The round had past him now and was heading to the Sith but Norin didn't notice it.

"Hey Sith leave the kid alone, why don't you see how a Mandalorian fights!" Norin said as loud as he could, going over the rubble, but it was still unknown if the round would kill the sith or not.