The Xen Chi Invasion: City of the Jedi - Dark Tide
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Dark Lord of the Grill
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The Xen Chi Invasion: City of the Jedi - Dark Tide
It had been two months since the Battle of Taylon. Cadden and his Mandalorian Protectors had aided greatly in pushing back the Cylon forces from this world. It was safe again, for now. Master Wyn stood on one of the many balconies in the city. He stared out at the sea. It was beautiful. It's all that could be seen in any direction. He felt at peace here. He heard footsteps behind him, but said nothing. He could tell who it was. Though they had only met right before the Cylon attack, they were becoming fast friends.
Red Seven. The Clone Trooper from the Clone Wars. Cazzik found it funny that he refused to wear anything but his armor. At least he took his helmet off from time to time. The blonde man stepped up alongside the Jedi.
"Nice morning."
Wyn smiled.
"Yes, it is."
Recently, the government of Taylon had shifted slightly. Apparently, when someone occupies the City of the Jedi, then they too help govern the world. Though there are courts and governors all ready, there are special positions set aside for those who follow the ways of the Force. The commander of Kora, the City of the Jedi, has a partnership with the Prime Minister. And of course, there are other positions as well. Three Guardians are assigned, one for each of the continents. Ms. Weir, the current Prime Minister, had suggested that Cazzik select the Guardians.
Red Seven himself had accepted a rather prestigious position. Along with two others on the planet, he was of the highest ranking General for the planet. Though he was offered a place on the mainland, he had opted to stay in Kora.
"They are waiting for you."
Cazzik nodded. He had selected who the three Guardians would be. It had been a difficult task. Especially with all of the Jedi that now inhabitted the city. They were everywhere, mostly knights and apprentices. But there were a few masters as well. Soon he would introduce this place to the Jedi Council. Kora could be very useful to the Jedi Order. He entered his conference room. All ready sitting were the three he had asked for. He looked at each of them in turn.
Jerik Blackthorne. The son of Cadden and Renalla. He reminded Cazzik much of himself when he was younger, and to mention his own father. He was skilled with a blade, and as honorable a man as Cazzik had ever had the privelage of knowing. He would be a fine Guardian, and one day, a very great Jedi Master.
Guan Blackthorne. The other son of Cadden and Renalla. Guan was something of a haunting to Cazzik. He reminded him so much of his mother, someone Wyn still missed dearly. Though not as skilled as his brother with a blade, he had a more powerful control over the Force than even he had yet to realize. Cazzik was very lucky to have them both with him in this new venture.
Jaina Wyn. His own daughter. He was still getting used to the fact that he had a daughter, trained by his own master. Caius had found her and brought her to him just before the Cylon invasion. After the battle he explained who she was, and where she came from. Wyn smiled at the story. Though he was immersed in the Dark Side at the time of her conception, she was still a shining beacon of what the Jedi Knights of old had once been. She was barely a knight, but he was positive she could handle the responsibility.
He sat down at the table. Red Seven took a seat next to him. The Jedi Master pushed a data pad across the table to each of them, and then started.
"The Prime Minister has asked me to select three Jedi to act as Guardians to each of the continents. I have selected you three. You will be in charge of everything that goes on in your respected areas. You will report to me or the Prime Minister is something too serious for you arises. More than likely, if you report to me, I'll just report it to her." He smiled and gave them a friendly nod.
"Jerik, you're in charge of Adun. Guan, you get Artanis, and Jaina gets Asarr."
He leaned back in his chair.
"So, any questions?"
Red Seven. The Clone Trooper from the Clone Wars. Cazzik found it funny that he refused to wear anything but his armor. At least he took his helmet off from time to time. The blonde man stepped up alongside the Jedi.
"Nice morning."
Wyn smiled.
"Yes, it is."
Recently, the government of Taylon had shifted slightly. Apparently, when someone occupies the City of the Jedi, then they too help govern the world. Though there are courts and governors all ready, there are special positions set aside for those who follow the ways of the Force. The commander of Kora, the City of the Jedi, has a partnership with the Prime Minister. And of course, there are other positions as well. Three Guardians are assigned, one for each of the continents. Ms. Weir, the current Prime Minister, had suggested that Cazzik select the Guardians.
Red Seven himself had accepted a rather prestigious position. Along with two others on the planet, he was of the highest ranking General for the planet. Though he was offered a place on the mainland, he had opted to stay in Kora.
"They are waiting for you."
Cazzik nodded. He had selected who the three Guardians would be. It had been a difficult task. Especially with all of the Jedi that now inhabitted the city. They were everywhere, mostly knights and apprentices. But there were a few masters as well. Soon he would introduce this place to the Jedi Council. Kora could be very useful to the Jedi Order. He entered his conference room. All ready sitting were the three he had asked for. He looked at each of them in turn.
Jerik Blackthorne. The son of Cadden and Renalla. He reminded Cazzik much of himself when he was younger, and to mention his own father. He was skilled with a blade, and as honorable a man as Cazzik had ever had the privelage of knowing. He would be a fine Guardian, and one day, a very great Jedi Master.
Guan Blackthorne. The other son of Cadden and Renalla. Guan was something of a haunting to Cazzik. He reminded him so much of his mother, someone Wyn still missed dearly. Though not as skilled as his brother with a blade, he had a more powerful control over the Force than even he had yet to realize. Cazzik was very lucky to have them both with him in this new venture.
Jaina Wyn. His own daughter. He was still getting used to the fact that he had a daughter, trained by his own master. Caius had found her and brought her to him just before the Cylon invasion. After the battle he explained who she was, and where she came from. Wyn smiled at the story. Though he was immersed in the Dark Side at the time of her conception, she was still a shining beacon of what the Jedi Knights of old had once been. She was barely a knight, but he was positive she could handle the responsibility.
He sat down at the table. Red Seven took a seat next to him. The Jedi Master pushed a data pad across the table to each of them, and then started.
"The Prime Minister has asked me to select three Jedi to act as Guardians to each of the continents. I have selected you three. You will be in charge of everything that goes on in your respected areas. You will report to me or the Prime Minister is something too serious for you arises. More than likely, if you report to me, I'll just report it to her." He smiled and gave them a friendly nod.
"Jerik, you're in charge of Adun. Guan, you get Artanis, and Jaina gets Asarr."
He leaned back in his chair.
"So, any questions?"
"I'd like to nominate Cazzik for the Sexiest Man on Earth 2010." --Balsa
Mand'alor
OOC: Two months? Isn't that a big long of a gap? I mean, considering how busy my Mandalorians have become and all. Not like I care much. Not the first time this board is inconsistent with timeframes. 
As for your comment on the other thread, all Mandalorians have left the planet, Ryy'Suuk with them. Those that were alongside Cadden whom stayed are Guan and Jerik. That's it.
... Hey, I need my Mandalorians!
IC:
Jerik, as per his usual self, remained silent. Either he had no questions, or he cared not to voice them. Guan, on the other hand, did speak up. "Yeah, I have one," he said. "We are poorly equipped to defend this city by ourselves, even if we are five Jedi. Cylon attacked before, what will prevent them from coming back, and in greater force?"
It was a legitimate concern. They could not keep relying on others, such as the Mandalorians, to defend this place for them. Especially considering the Mandalorians' other duties, such as Cadden's obvious priority of fighting the Xen'Chi face-to-face, up close and personal. Given the forces they had at Taylon, and Cadden's urgency to pack them up and head back to Mandalore right after the battle was concluded, led Guan to believe that what they experienced was the brunt of Mandalorian numbers.
If that were true, and if what he heard of the Xen'Chi was true, then the Mandalorians were going to be in for one hell of a fight. Guan only hoped their father would survive the war. He was always one to prefer to fight up on the front lines, rather than coordinate from the home base. He knew that, wherever the Mandalorian war machine went, Cadden would be right at the front.
Then, he added to his question, "And what about the Xen'Chi?" He opened his mouth to say more, but he knew from the reactions of the others he did not need to.

As for your comment on the other thread, all Mandalorians have left the planet, Ryy'Suuk with them. Those that were alongside Cadden whom stayed are Guan and Jerik. That's it.
... Hey, I need my Mandalorians!

IC:
Jerik, as per his usual self, remained silent. Either he had no questions, or he cared not to voice them. Guan, on the other hand, did speak up. "Yeah, I have one," he said. "We are poorly equipped to defend this city by ourselves, even if we are five Jedi. Cylon attacked before, what will prevent them from coming back, and in greater force?"
It was a legitimate concern. They could not keep relying on others, such as the Mandalorians, to defend this place for them. Especially considering the Mandalorians' other duties, such as Cadden's obvious priority of fighting the Xen'Chi face-to-face, up close and personal. Given the forces they had at Taylon, and Cadden's urgency to pack them up and head back to Mandalore right after the battle was concluded, led Guan to believe that what they experienced was the brunt of Mandalorian numbers.
If that were true, and if what he heard of the Xen'Chi was true, then the Mandalorians were going to be in for one hell of a fight. Guan only hoped their father would survive the war. He was always one to prefer to fight up on the front lines, rather than coordinate from the home base. He knew that, wherever the Mandalorian war machine went, Cadden would be right at the front.
Then, he added to his question, "And what about the Xen'Chi?" He opened his mouth to say more, but he knew from the reactions of the others he did not need to.
KING OF STRONG STYLE
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The lead Xai’Chen-class Command Ship moved through darkspace. It was flanked on both sides by two more of its class. There was one more directly behind the lead ship. Arranged all over were various cruisers, frigates, and carriers of Xen’chi make. There were assault ships as well. There was also a Thrall fleet along with them, a recently conquered race called the Nansen. A total of twenty thousand Xen’chi soldiers were onboard the fleet, along with more Nansen warriors. There were also Chosen present.
Their destination: Taylon, more specifically, the City of the Jedi. The leader of the strike was one Overseer Isl’kon. He stood on the bridge of the lead Xai’Chen, named Cyrenma. He surveyed his crew and felt a sense of certainty. The Xa’Tieron would never give a task as important as this to a crew that could not achieve it. That the Xa’Tieron had full faith in his capabilities had only spurred his preparations for the upcoming battle against the Jedi here at Taylon.
It was possible that the Jedi had erected anti ship weaponry to use against the Xen’chi. That had been factored into his plan. They did not know how many Jedi and how many other warriors were down on the planet, but all would be given the chance to accept an honorable death in battle. Isl’kon was not here to accept a surrender. He was here to annihilate and exterminate, nothing less.
“Overseer, two minutes to reversion.” His Prefect informed him. Isl’kon acknowledged his executive officer’s words with a simple nod. This day would bring about a great blow to the galaxy and a great victory for the Xen’chi. Any ships that the Jedi had would be destroyed, shown no quarter just as those on the ground would be.
The death knell for the City of the Jedi was tolling. Or was that the alarm that was announcing that they were reverting from hyperspace?
Either way, the stars snapped into place as the fleet arrived in the Taylon system. He turned to his sensors officers. “It seems we’ve caught them unawares, Overseer. We detect a ship of the Corellian Corvette class and ships of unknown class or make.” The Overseer nodded.
“Can you detect the size of the unknown vessels yet?”
“Not yet, Overseer.” He turned to his executive officer.
“Release the Assault Ships down to the planet below. Send our soldiers and the Thrall soldiers, but hold the Chosen back for now. Find targets for the Cyrenma and our sister ships to begin bombarding off once we get in range. All fighters are to be launched, and to escort the Assault Ships. Main target is the City of the Jedi. Ignore the other continents unless they begin to send any forces to thwart the inevitable. The Hetch’chek-class are to engage any and all ships in system, along with the Vis’kral-class and the Thrall vessels.”
OOC: Sorry on the lateness. Did you get my last PM btw?
Their destination: Taylon, more specifically, the City of the Jedi. The leader of the strike was one Overseer Isl’kon. He stood on the bridge of the lead Xai’Chen, named Cyrenma. He surveyed his crew and felt a sense of certainty. The Xa’Tieron would never give a task as important as this to a crew that could not achieve it. That the Xa’Tieron had full faith in his capabilities had only spurred his preparations for the upcoming battle against the Jedi here at Taylon.
It was possible that the Jedi had erected anti ship weaponry to use against the Xen’chi. That had been factored into his plan. They did not know how many Jedi and how many other warriors were down on the planet, but all would be given the chance to accept an honorable death in battle. Isl’kon was not here to accept a surrender. He was here to annihilate and exterminate, nothing less.
“Overseer, two minutes to reversion.” His Prefect informed him. Isl’kon acknowledged his executive officer’s words with a simple nod. This day would bring about a great blow to the galaxy and a great victory for the Xen’chi. Any ships that the Jedi had would be destroyed, shown no quarter just as those on the ground would be.
The death knell for the City of the Jedi was tolling. Or was that the alarm that was announcing that they were reverting from hyperspace?
Either way, the stars snapped into place as the fleet arrived in the Taylon system. He turned to his sensors officers. “It seems we’ve caught them unawares, Overseer. We detect a ship of the Corellian Corvette class and ships of unknown class or make.” The Overseer nodded.
“Can you detect the size of the unknown vessels yet?”
“Not yet, Overseer.” He turned to his executive officer.
“Release the Assault Ships down to the planet below. Send our soldiers and the Thrall soldiers, but hold the Chosen back for now. Find targets for the Cyrenma and our sister ships to begin bombarding off once we get in range. All fighters are to be launched, and to escort the Assault Ships. Main target is the City of the Jedi. Ignore the other continents unless they begin to send any forces to thwart the inevitable. The Hetch’chek-class are to engage any and all ships in system, along with the Vis’kral-class and the Thrall vessels.”
OOC: Sorry on the lateness. Did you get my last PM btw?

Everyone knows "Pops and Junior = #Ratings"
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
#Valkob4Life
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
#Valkob4Life
Dark Lord of the Grill
Posts: 1916
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Location: Searching for a nursing home for Nichalus
Before Cazzik could respond to Jerik the alarm went off. Something was happening, and it was big. He shut his eyes and reached out with Force, sensing all he could. Danger had entered the system, extreme danger. His eyes snapped open and he looked at those in the room.
"Follow me."
The Jedi Master made his way to the control room of the city as fast as he could. Upon arrival he noticed that everyone was in a hurry. He spotted his fellow Jedi Master, Rayatryn Jeib, and approached him.
"What's going on?"
The Iktochi looked at him.
"A Xen'Chi battle fleet has entered orbit."
Cazzik nodded. He understood what this meant. The invaders had finally launched their full attack on the galaxy. He had always suspected that they wouldn't strike at the Jedi until they were prepared to strike at everyone. Undoubtedly there were many other fleets just like this hitting many other targets all over the galaxy. The Jedi Master stopped for a moment. This is what he was destined for. He had always been a warrior, even a general at times. The Xen'Chi had to be stopped, and this was a good place to start. He turned to address the entire command room.
"Raise the city wide shield. Contact the Prime Minister and have General Seven prepare the Taylon army. Starfighters should intercept incoming vessels. Several squadrons, do not bunch together. I want the fleet to intercept the smaller Xen'Chi vessels. If they start to take damage, pull back and go to lightspeed. They won't help us by dying. And someone send a transmission to the New Republic Navy. We will need assistance as soon as possible."
Cazzik turned to some of the others in the room. Motioning for certain individuals to follow him he stepped aside and looked at them all in turn.
"This is going to be a tough fight. I have no idea how long we will have to hold out until the Republic arrives. But I trust each and every one of you to do your best."
His eyes were fierce. He had entered his battle mode, something the enemy would learn to fear.
"Rayatryn, you will lead the forces on the west side of the city. Potentially it could be the front line. There are only two places for the Xen'Chi to land troops; the west side and the east side. Red Seven will be stationed with you. You'll have troops and Jedi. I'll lead the forces on the east side. Jerik, you'll be my second in command. I'm going to rely heavily on your skills here. I need you to come through."
He turned to the others.
"Guan you'll be remaining behind with a smaller force, mostly made up of Jedi. Jaina will be with you. You are to guard the interior of the city, the vital areas. Especially the command room. Do not let them pass. Jessica, I have a special assignment for you as well," he put his hands on her shoulders. "I want you to lead a special squadron of X-Wings. You will be flying directly above the city, intercepting as many shuttles as you can. The more you can take down, the easier we will have it on the ground. You be careful though. If things start to go south, you land and make your way to the command room. You hold this position with Guan and Jaina."
He stepped back and unhooked his lightsaber.
"You all are my friends and family. I would trust no others to protect this city. I am honored to fight by your sides."
"Follow me."
The Jedi Master made his way to the control room of the city as fast as he could. Upon arrival he noticed that everyone was in a hurry. He spotted his fellow Jedi Master, Rayatryn Jeib, and approached him.
"What's going on?"
The Iktochi looked at him.
"A Xen'Chi battle fleet has entered orbit."
Cazzik nodded. He understood what this meant. The invaders had finally launched their full attack on the galaxy. He had always suspected that they wouldn't strike at the Jedi until they were prepared to strike at everyone. Undoubtedly there were many other fleets just like this hitting many other targets all over the galaxy. The Jedi Master stopped for a moment. This is what he was destined for. He had always been a warrior, even a general at times. The Xen'Chi had to be stopped, and this was a good place to start. He turned to address the entire command room.
"Raise the city wide shield. Contact the Prime Minister and have General Seven prepare the Taylon army. Starfighters should intercept incoming vessels. Several squadrons, do not bunch together. I want the fleet to intercept the smaller Xen'Chi vessels. If they start to take damage, pull back and go to lightspeed. They won't help us by dying. And someone send a transmission to the New Republic Navy. We will need assistance as soon as possible."
Cazzik turned to some of the others in the room. Motioning for certain individuals to follow him he stepped aside and looked at them all in turn.
"This is going to be a tough fight. I have no idea how long we will have to hold out until the Republic arrives. But I trust each and every one of you to do your best."
His eyes were fierce. He had entered his battle mode, something the enemy would learn to fear.
"Rayatryn, you will lead the forces on the west side of the city. Potentially it could be the front line. There are only two places for the Xen'Chi to land troops; the west side and the east side. Red Seven will be stationed with you. You'll have troops and Jedi. I'll lead the forces on the east side. Jerik, you'll be my second in command. I'm going to rely heavily on your skills here. I need you to come through."
He turned to the others.
"Guan you'll be remaining behind with a smaller force, mostly made up of Jedi. Jaina will be with you. You are to guard the interior of the city, the vital areas. Especially the command room. Do not let them pass. Jessica, I have a special assignment for you as well," he put his hands on her shoulders. "I want you to lead a special squadron of X-Wings. You will be flying directly above the city, intercepting as many shuttles as you can. The more you can take down, the easier we will have it on the ground. You be careful though. If things start to go south, you land and make your way to the command room. You hold this position with Guan and Jaina."
He stepped back and unhooked his lightsaber.
"You all are my friends and family. I would trust no others to protect this city. I am honored to fight by your sides."
"I'd like to nominate Cazzik for the Sexiest Man on Earth 2010." --Balsa
KING OF STRONG STYLE
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The Thrall soldiers' transports were sent first, with Xen'chi fighter cover. Enemy fighter squadrons were coming towards them as were the few enemy capital ships. This was expected. The enemy had to stop them as best they could here before the troops could get dowwn to the planet below. Isl'kon turned to his Prefect. "Release the Xai'chen other than this vessel to aid the Hetch'cheks and Vis'kral Forget about the planet for right now. All vessels are to use ion cannons."
The frigates and the cruisers who had been assigned to intercept the Jedi warships were the closest to them, and opened fire with their ion cannons. Soon the Xai'Chens would be in range, and would ionized the enemy ships. The fighters squadrons of the enemy were engaging with Xen'chi fighters, but the sheer numbers of the Xen'chi would overwhelm their foe, if one put the skill of the pilots and the power of the machines on an equal footing, which Isl'kon would never do.
"Are we in range of the City yet?"
"Not yet, Overseer. They're raised the the City shield." Isl'kon nodded. That meant if they had planetary weaponry, they could not utilize it unless they dropped the shield. The recharge time for the shield would allow the Xen'chi to get in at least a partial bombardment.
"Once we are in range, I want all of our guns hammering that shield, understood?"
"Aye, Overseer."
"All Xen'chi troop transports are to move forward now that the Thralls have taken the brunt of the enemy fighter and capital ships attention. Head down to the city below." His words were quickly relayed, and the Sorat-class Assault Ships began to move, with minimal fighter support, as almost all Xen'chi fighters were involved in the dogfight with the Jedi fighters. The battle was only just beginning.
The frigates and the cruisers who had been assigned to intercept the Jedi warships were the closest to them, and opened fire with their ion cannons. Soon the Xai'Chens would be in range, and would ionized the enemy ships. The fighters squadrons of the enemy were engaging with Xen'chi fighters, but the sheer numbers of the Xen'chi would overwhelm their foe, if one put the skill of the pilots and the power of the machines on an equal footing, which Isl'kon would never do.
"Are we in range of the City yet?"
"Not yet, Overseer. They're raised the the City shield." Isl'kon nodded. That meant if they had planetary weaponry, they could not utilize it unless they dropped the shield. The recharge time for the shield would allow the Xen'chi to get in at least a partial bombardment.
"Once we are in range, I want all of our guns hammering that shield, understood?"
"Aye, Overseer."
"All Xen'chi troop transports are to move forward now that the Thralls have taken the brunt of the enemy fighter and capital ships attention. Head down to the city below." His words were quickly relayed, and the Sorat-class Assault Ships began to move, with minimal fighter support, as almost all Xen'chi fighters were involved in the dogfight with the Jedi fighters. The battle was only just beginning.
Everyone knows "Pops and Junior = #Ratings"
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
#Valkob4Life
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
#Valkob4Life
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Mand'alor
Dark Lord of the Grill
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Location: Searching for a nursing home for Nichalus
Cazzik stood outside on the east wing of the city, starring up at the blaster fire in the sky. He knew the Xen'Chi would undoubtedly attempt to drain the shield by hammering it with weapons fire. This would prove fruitless. The shield was more advanced than any other in the galaxy, it would not fall before the invaders. Of course, it only blocked weapon bombardments. Ships carrying troops could still pass through.
As he prepared himself for battle, silver clad Taylon soldiers were arriving in great numbers. If the Xen'Chi wanted the city, they were going to have to bleed an awful lot in order to get it. However, something was nagging at the back of Cazzik's mind. He didn't believe the enemy was here for the city. There was something......amiss in orbit. The Xen'Chi had an ace up their sleeve and Master Wyn was not in any hurry to see what it was. He turned to his second in command.
"There is something up there, Jerik. I'm uncertain of what, but it's dangerous. Whatever it is, we need to warn the Republic and the Jedi Council of what has transpired here."
His voice took a very dark tone.
"If I fall today I give you this mission. You are to escape and make it back to the High Council. Explain everything," He turned to look at Cadden's son. "And Jerik, take Jaina with you. She is a Jedi, she will try to refuse. But she is also my daughter, the only child I have left. Protect her for me."
As he prepared himself for battle, silver clad Taylon soldiers were arriving in great numbers. If the Xen'Chi wanted the city, they were going to have to bleed an awful lot in order to get it. However, something was nagging at the back of Cazzik's mind. He didn't believe the enemy was here for the city. There was something......amiss in orbit. The Xen'Chi had an ace up their sleeve and Master Wyn was not in any hurry to see what it was. He turned to his second in command.
"There is something up there, Jerik. I'm uncertain of what, but it's dangerous. Whatever it is, we need to warn the Republic and the Jedi Council of what has transpired here."
His voice took a very dark tone.
"If I fall today I give you this mission. You are to escape and make it back to the High Council. Explain everything," He turned to look at Cadden's son. "And Jerik, take Jaina with you. She is a Jedi, she will try to refuse. But she is also my daughter, the only child I have left. Protect her for me."
"I'd like to nominate Cazzik for the Sexiest Man on Earth 2010." --Balsa
Mand'alor
Rayatryn looked over those at his command. The Iktotchi Jedi Master was prepared for this battle, but still pondered whether or not he would survive it. Or, honestly, if any of them would. From all he heard of the Xen'Chi, he knew at the very least, this battle would leave its mark on the Jedi Order, and bring the Jedi Order to war.
Approaching Red Seven, the Jedi Master said, "Are we ready?"
The Clone nodded. "We can hold them back, whoever makes it this far," he responded, "but for how long, it is difficult to say."
The Iktotchi nodded in return. "We'll deal with that when they actually arrive," he said. "Station ourselves for ground assault. Have the heavy weapons ready to attack anything incoming. If we can knock a couple down before they land, that would make our chances that much better."
Trec Thul approached Rayatryn. "The Jedi are ready to do their part," he announced.
"Good. We will need to hold this position at all costs."
__________
The bad thing about battle was... it was bound to produce a bad ending. Even if they managed to repel the Xen'Chi from the City of the Jedi, Jerik Blackthorne knew that the losses would be heavy. Many Jedi will die today, he predicted. Many... including maybe even himself, or Guan... or Cazzik. Jerik clenched his fist. No... that will not happen. Not if he had anything to say about it.
He had followed Cazzik to the east wing, and stood at his side, flanking the Jedi Master. He didn't say a word the whole time, something that Cazzik had grown to accept as fact. Jerik just had too much of his father embedded in him. His personality, his style, even a finesse with a lightsaber. It was almost as though Jerik were, truly, a clone of his father.
Cazzik told him of his assignment, should Cazzik fall in battle, and Jerik simply nodded in agreement. His way of telling Cazzik he understood. He focused his eyes up in the sky, beyond the atmosphere, beyond orbit, as he watched through the Force, through prediction, as the Xen'Chi fleet approached the lightly-defended world. Yes... many would die here, today.
Finally, he spoke. "May the Force be with us." And, just like that, he was silent once again, as the battle, mere moments away, began to unfold.
__________
Guan was with the group of Jedi, including Jaina, at the time that the signs of battle began to show. It was only a matter of time before the Xen'Chi would be among them. "Are we ready?" he asked Jaina. He had been making sure that positions were set and fortified. With being mostly Jedi, many of them were in the open, as per their combat style. However, some were stationed in buildings that were deemed vital. He and Jaina were guarding the command center, itself, with but a handful of other Jedi. They could not let the Xen'Chi come to this spot, and if so, they would fight to the death to defend it.
OOC: Eh, it's a bit slap-together, but it'll suffice until battle actually starts.
Approaching Red Seven, the Jedi Master said, "Are we ready?"
The Clone nodded. "We can hold them back, whoever makes it this far," he responded, "but for how long, it is difficult to say."
The Iktotchi nodded in return. "We'll deal with that when they actually arrive," he said. "Station ourselves for ground assault. Have the heavy weapons ready to attack anything incoming. If we can knock a couple down before they land, that would make our chances that much better."
Trec Thul approached Rayatryn. "The Jedi are ready to do their part," he announced.
"Good. We will need to hold this position at all costs."
__________
The bad thing about battle was... it was bound to produce a bad ending. Even if they managed to repel the Xen'Chi from the City of the Jedi, Jerik Blackthorne knew that the losses would be heavy. Many Jedi will die today, he predicted. Many... including maybe even himself, or Guan... or Cazzik. Jerik clenched his fist. No... that will not happen. Not if he had anything to say about it.
He had followed Cazzik to the east wing, and stood at his side, flanking the Jedi Master. He didn't say a word the whole time, something that Cazzik had grown to accept as fact. Jerik just had too much of his father embedded in him. His personality, his style, even a finesse with a lightsaber. It was almost as though Jerik were, truly, a clone of his father.
Cazzik told him of his assignment, should Cazzik fall in battle, and Jerik simply nodded in agreement. His way of telling Cazzik he understood. He focused his eyes up in the sky, beyond the atmosphere, beyond orbit, as he watched through the Force, through prediction, as the Xen'Chi fleet approached the lightly-defended world. Yes... many would die here, today.
Finally, he spoke. "May the Force be with us." And, just like that, he was silent once again, as the battle, mere moments away, began to unfold.
__________
Guan was with the group of Jedi, including Jaina, at the time that the signs of battle began to show. It was only a matter of time before the Xen'Chi would be among them. "Are we ready?" he asked Jaina. He had been making sure that positions were set and fortified. With being mostly Jedi, many of them were in the open, as per their combat style. However, some were stationed in buildings that were deemed vital. He and Jaina were guarding the command center, itself, with but a handful of other Jedi. They could not let the Xen'Chi come to this spot, and if so, they would fight to the death to defend it.
OOC: Eh, it's a bit slap-together, but it'll suffice until battle actually starts.
False Dichotomy
Posts: 4416
Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2003 10:55 am
Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2003 10:55 am
En route to Taylon
Hyperspace snapped and rippled outside the freighter's cockpit. Lyn could see it even with his eyes closed: the jagged blue light flickered brightly enough that they shone through his eyelids. And the Force told him something, too. Mass shadows stood out, as clear to his mind as to the freighter's sensor arrays.
"Your sensors can deceive you," he muttered to himself with a grin. "Don't trust them."
He scratched his new whiskers, a half inch of stubble that he'd been painstakingly growing for the last few weeks. There was no harm in looking like a Jedi Master, if he was one.
He'd assumed was just common sense - strength in the Force, depth of understanding, wise use of one's power. Since he'd rarely thought about how close or far away he was from Mastery, he'd never put much time into finding out.
And thus, when he'd promoted Ember, he'd been utterly dumbstruck to learn that that made him a Jedi Master. At least by some standards, apparently - and after time spent on Onderon with the Jedi, Ember really knew more about the Order than Lyn. That was enough by itself to make Lyn question his own supposed Master status, let alone the fact that he'd only started considering himself a Jedi Knight two years ago. Before that, of course, had been his Detori training, a little bit of time on Daltera, and his grandfather's instruction - but even cumulatively, how much was that?
Frowning, he opened his eyes and checked the status board. One of the engines had taken damage during the Battle of Joy, and the repairs weren't quite holding together. Not for the first time, he wished he'd brought a mechanic.
Or that his passenger had any mechanical aptitude at all.
"Are you still daydreaming?" a woman's voice said from directly behind him. Lyn snapped bolt upright as if hit by a stun rod. "Don't do that," he managed.
At least he hadn't gone for his lightsabre this time. Instincts were instincts...and Iara Clane still had something of the Dark Side around her. That, and she was unnaturally good at sneaking up on people. Even Jedi.
Even her husband.
"Sorry, love," the Twi'lek said casually, dropping into the copilot's seat beside him. Hyperspace lights gave her already blue skin an electric cast: she practically glowed.
"It's no problem," he said automatically. "My mind was elsewhere, that's all."
She laughed, a quiet sound that tugged at his memory. He didn't really remember ever hearing it before - but that was only to be expected, considering how much of his memory she'd excised, once upon a time. He still wasn't sure how he felt about that. It helped, he supposed, that she'd done it under orders - and that she felt genuine remorse for it.
The proximity sensor beeped, and Lyn toggled reversion. Hyperspace blurred into starlines and then to normalcy. Something blared in his mind, and a split second later a large spot on the sensor board turned bright red. Iara hissed. "Xen'Chi."
Lyn felt his breath catch hard. They weren't anywhere near the Xen'Chi fleet, but still, that much firepower was disconcerting.
"Could we have picked better timing?" he said, a little sarcastically. The route to the City of the Jedi was going to be tricky. Very tricky. And he wasn't the best pilot. Iara laughed again. "We could come back later."
"If I thought you were serious," he muttered wryly, and made for the surface.
Hyperspace snapped and rippled outside the freighter's cockpit. Lyn could see it even with his eyes closed: the jagged blue light flickered brightly enough that they shone through his eyelids. And the Force told him something, too. Mass shadows stood out, as clear to his mind as to the freighter's sensor arrays.
"Your sensors can deceive you," he muttered to himself with a grin. "Don't trust them."
He scratched his new whiskers, a half inch of stubble that he'd been painstakingly growing for the last few weeks. There was no harm in looking like a Jedi Master, if he was one.
He'd assumed was just common sense - strength in the Force, depth of understanding, wise use of one's power. Since he'd rarely thought about how close or far away he was from Mastery, he'd never put much time into finding out.
And thus, when he'd promoted Ember, he'd been utterly dumbstruck to learn that that made him a Jedi Master. At least by some standards, apparently - and after time spent on Onderon with the Jedi, Ember really knew more about the Order than Lyn. That was enough by itself to make Lyn question his own supposed Master status, let alone the fact that he'd only started considering himself a Jedi Knight two years ago. Before that, of course, had been his Detori training, a little bit of time on Daltera, and his grandfather's instruction - but even cumulatively, how much was that?
Frowning, he opened his eyes and checked the status board. One of the engines had taken damage during the Battle of Joy, and the repairs weren't quite holding together. Not for the first time, he wished he'd brought a mechanic.
Or that his passenger had any mechanical aptitude at all.
"Are you still daydreaming?" a woman's voice said from directly behind him. Lyn snapped bolt upright as if hit by a stun rod. "Don't do that," he managed.
At least he hadn't gone for his lightsabre this time. Instincts were instincts...and Iara Clane still had something of the Dark Side around her. That, and she was unnaturally good at sneaking up on people. Even Jedi.
Even her husband.
"Sorry, love," the Twi'lek said casually, dropping into the copilot's seat beside him. Hyperspace lights gave her already blue skin an electric cast: she practically glowed.
"It's no problem," he said automatically. "My mind was elsewhere, that's all."
She laughed, a quiet sound that tugged at his memory. He didn't really remember ever hearing it before - but that was only to be expected, considering how much of his memory she'd excised, once upon a time. He still wasn't sure how he felt about that. It helped, he supposed, that she'd done it under orders - and that she felt genuine remorse for it.
The proximity sensor beeped, and Lyn toggled reversion. Hyperspace blurred into starlines and then to normalcy. Something blared in his mind, and a split second later a large spot on the sensor board turned bright red. Iara hissed. "Xen'Chi."
Lyn felt his breath catch hard. They weren't anywhere near the Xen'Chi fleet, but still, that much firepower was disconcerting.
"Could we have picked better timing?" he said, a little sarcastically. The route to the City of the Jedi was going to be tricky. Very tricky. And he wasn't the best pilot. Iara laughed again. "We could come back later."
"If I thought you were serious," he muttered wryly, and made for the surface.
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18896
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
The Overseer watched with satisfaction as the last of the Jedi warships were ionized and disabled. This was going to be easier than he had originally thought. He turned to his sensor officer. "You were saying something earlier?"
"Yes, Overseer. The Jedi appear to have powered up some form of planetary shielding."
"Are our transports there yet?"
"The Thrall transports are under the shield's barrier and are headed to the planet below."
"Halt our transports. Let the Thrall soften them for us. Sensors," He said, turning form his XO to his sensor officer again, "what of their fighter squadrons?"
"Destroyed or disabled, Overseer." Isl'kon nodded and turned back to his XO.
"Release the Visk'ral and the Hetch'checks to bombard the planet, with projectile weaponry. Military targets for now. Let them think we won't torch the City and the inhabitants." The XO nodded. Suddenly a klaxon went off. There was a flash in the distance, out in space. A ship had arrived at Taylon. The Overseer wondered whether the pilot was cursing his luck. He felt that he should find out. His XO looked at him, questioning with the look on his face. "Destroy it." A Xen'chi coughed slightly and stepped forth from the shadows of the back of the bridge.
"I think that is...unwise, Overseer." The Isl'kon turned to the Xen'chi female before him.
"And why is that?" The woman indicated the freighter many klicks away with her head.
"There are Force users onboard, Jedi more than not." The Overseer amended his order.
"Disable and capture it." He looked at the woman again and the leader of the Chosen in his fleet nodded. The Jedi below wouldn't know what hit them.
OOC: Sorry on the delay once again. You all can start the battle and have the thrall land in your posts if you want.
"Yes, Overseer. The Jedi appear to have powered up some form of planetary shielding."
"Are our transports there yet?"
"The Thrall transports are under the shield's barrier and are headed to the planet below."
"Halt our transports. Let the Thrall soften them for us. Sensors," He said, turning form his XO to his sensor officer again, "what of their fighter squadrons?"
"Destroyed or disabled, Overseer." Isl'kon nodded and turned back to his XO.
"Release the Visk'ral and the Hetch'checks to bombard the planet, with projectile weaponry. Military targets for now. Let them think we won't torch the City and the inhabitants." The XO nodded. Suddenly a klaxon went off. There was a flash in the distance, out in space. A ship had arrived at Taylon. The Overseer wondered whether the pilot was cursing his luck. He felt that he should find out. His XO looked at him, questioning with the look on his face. "Destroy it." A Xen'chi coughed slightly and stepped forth from the shadows of the back of the bridge.
"I think that is...unwise, Overseer." The Isl'kon turned to the Xen'chi female before him.
"And why is that?" The woman indicated the freighter many klicks away with her head.
"There are Force users onboard, Jedi more than not." The Overseer amended his order.
"Disable and capture it." He looked at the woman again and the leader of the Chosen in his fleet nodded. The Jedi below wouldn't know what hit them.
OOC: Sorry on the delay once again. You all can start the battle and have the thrall land in your posts if you want.
Everyone knows "Pops and Junior = #Ratings"
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
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Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
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Dark Lord of the Grill
Posts: 1916
Joined: Fri Jan 23, 2004 8:41 am
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Location: Searching for a nursing home for Nichalus
There were so many of them. Cazzik couldn't even see all of them, but he could sense their presence. The Xen'Chi had been waiting for this, to strike at the Jedi Order. The sheer size of their fleet was evidence of that. The Jedi Master was confident that the shields would hold. The capital ships would be unable to attack them. But that wasn't what was bothering him. Their soldiers were landing in masses. And there was still something else in orbit, something extremely dangerous. They watched as the transports split. Half of them headed to the west wing of the city. They would be engaging Master Jeib and Red Seven's forces. The other half landed on the east wing of Kora. They directly opposed Master Wyn.
As the Xen'Chi warriors advanced towards the Jedi and the Taylon soldiers, Cazzik looked at Jerik and then the rest of his army. He yelled as loud as he could, so all could hear him.
"These invaders wish to kill us! They wish to enslave us! When they are done here, they will move on to another planet and eradicate all life there!"
The Jedi Master ignited his lightsaber. The blade was a luminescent blue, a brilliant color. He raised it high, for all to see.
"That is why we cannot allow them to win. They mustn't be allowed to progress farther than Taylon. The Xen'Chi believe they can defeat us! You are Soldiers of the Republic! You are Jedi Knights! Show them how wrong they are!"
Master Wyn watched as numerous colored blades ignited, lighting up the sky around them. Cazzik turned and took a deep breath. He was a Jedi Master, trained in a long line of Jedi Guardians. He was bred to be one of the Order and trained for battle. Out of every possible place he could be in the galaxy, this is where he belonged. If he was to die today, he would show the Xen'Chi what a Master of the Force was capable of. He lowered his weapon and charged the coming storm. He could feel his troops behind him, Taylon soldiers and Jedi alike, close on his heels. Each one would fight to the death. As he grew closer he jumped into the air, propelling himself with the Force. As the others collided head on with the Xen'Chi, Cazzik brought his blade down with a powerful blow, taking out numerous Xen'Chi with one strike.
He stood and brought his blade around in a wide arc, taking out many more. His weapon cut through the enemy with ease. He was one of the greatest warriors in the Jedi Order, this he knew. Perhaps not the most powerful, but he was extremely skilled with his weapon. The Xen'Chi warriors around him were struck down with a swiftness none of them could have anticipated. As the Jedi Master sunk more and more into his battle meditation he became more and more dangerous to the enemy. He was a fierce combatant, and made sure the Xen'Chi knew it. He called upon his power and allowed the Force to explode from him, sending a wave of telikinetic energy out in all directions. The enemy warriors were thrown back and knocked to the ground. This gave him enough time to scan the battlefield. He was hoping to get a glance of Jerik, but there was no sign, and he had no more time to look. He turned his attention back to the task at hand and continued to brutalize the Xen'Chi warriors.
As the Xen'Chi warriors advanced towards the Jedi and the Taylon soldiers, Cazzik looked at Jerik and then the rest of his army. He yelled as loud as he could, so all could hear him.
"These invaders wish to kill us! They wish to enslave us! When they are done here, they will move on to another planet and eradicate all life there!"
The Jedi Master ignited his lightsaber. The blade was a luminescent blue, a brilliant color. He raised it high, for all to see.
"That is why we cannot allow them to win. They mustn't be allowed to progress farther than Taylon. The Xen'Chi believe they can defeat us! You are Soldiers of the Republic! You are Jedi Knights! Show them how wrong they are!"
Master Wyn watched as numerous colored blades ignited, lighting up the sky around them. Cazzik turned and took a deep breath. He was a Jedi Master, trained in a long line of Jedi Guardians. He was bred to be one of the Order and trained for battle. Out of every possible place he could be in the galaxy, this is where he belonged. If he was to die today, he would show the Xen'Chi what a Master of the Force was capable of. He lowered his weapon and charged the coming storm. He could feel his troops behind him, Taylon soldiers and Jedi alike, close on his heels. Each one would fight to the death. As he grew closer he jumped into the air, propelling himself with the Force. As the others collided head on with the Xen'Chi, Cazzik brought his blade down with a powerful blow, taking out numerous Xen'Chi with one strike.
He stood and brought his blade around in a wide arc, taking out many more. His weapon cut through the enemy with ease. He was one of the greatest warriors in the Jedi Order, this he knew. Perhaps not the most powerful, but he was extremely skilled with his weapon. The Xen'Chi warriors around him were struck down with a swiftness none of them could have anticipated. As the Jedi Master sunk more and more into his battle meditation he became more and more dangerous to the enemy. He was a fierce combatant, and made sure the Xen'Chi knew it. He called upon his power and allowed the Force to explode from him, sending a wave of telikinetic energy out in all directions. The enemy warriors were thrown back and knocked to the ground. This gave him enough time to scan the battlefield. He was hoping to get a glance of Jerik, but there was no sign, and he had no more time to look. He turned his attention back to the task at hand and continued to brutalize the Xen'Chi warriors.
"I'd like to nominate Cazzik for the Sexiest Man on Earth 2010." --Balsa
False Dichotomy
Posts: 4416
Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2003 10:55 am
Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2003 10:55 am
Long black splinters, silhouettes against the planet below, changed course to intercept. Lyn ran through the sensor data with a glance.
"You've fought the Xen'Chi before," he said absently. "What can you tell me?"
"Those are fighters. That's all I know. Sorry." Iara stood. "I'm going to man the turret."
"Go for it."
Iara left. Lyn took the moment's opportunity to stretch out with the Force, trying to get some sense of the Xen'Chi pilots. Their minds were fairly alien, tough but not impossible to understand at this basic level. He sensed frustration, even though they hadn't yet engaged.
"I think they've been ordered to disable us!" he yelled. Those fighters were getting close...
"You're right," Iara shouted back after a pause. "I feel it too. We can't outrun them and we can't outfight them. How do you fancy our odds in close combat?"
"Abysmal, like everything else. Hold on - I'm going to try something. And I do mean hold on."
He'd heard about this trick once. It was chancy - even for a Jedi. But perhaps not for a Jedi who could feel what he could feel - about the Force, and about the universe. Perhaps.
Or perhaps he wasn't being humble enough.
Aiming just past the edge of the planet, he disengaged the hyperdrive safeties and slapped the control twice in a split second, moving at speeds only a Jedi Master could summon. The ship accelerated to a sizable fraction of lightspeed and just as quickly decelerated. The inertial dampeners couldn't quite compensate. He felt like he'd been kicked in the gut, and Iara's shouting was blowing a hole in his eardrum. Or maybe that was just the impact of his skull against the headrest.
"Reversion," he managed. "We're now a third of a planet away from the Xen'Chi and the City. High orbit, or close enough."
"You're going to get us killed one day, Lyn." She sounded out of breath, from either the impact or the yelling. "Take us in, if you can."
"You questioning my piloting skills or the ship?" he joked, steering for the surface.
"How is she?"
"All lights green except the inertial dampeners, which may need a tuneup sometime in the near future."
"I hate you."
"You've fought the Xen'Chi before," he said absently. "What can you tell me?"
"Those are fighters. That's all I know. Sorry." Iara stood. "I'm going to man the turret."
"Go for it."
Iara left. Lyn took the moment's opportunity to stretch out with the Force, trying to get some sense of the Xen'Chi pilots. Their minds were fairly alien, tough but not impossible to understand at this basic level. He sensed frustration, even though they hadn't yet engaged.
"I think they've been ordered to disable us!" he yelled. Those fighters were getting close...
"You're right," Iara shouted back after a pause. "I feel it too. We can't outrun them and we can't outfight them. How do you fancy our odds in close combat?"
"Abysmal, like everything else. Hold on - I'm going to try something. And I do mean hold on."
He'd heard about this trick once. It was chancy - even for a Jedi. But perhaps not for a Jedi who could feel what he could feel - about the Force, and about the universe. Perhaps.
Or perhaps he wasn't being humble enough.
Aiming just past the edge of the planet, he disengaged the hyperdrive safeties and slapped the control twice in a split second, moving at speeds only a Jedi Master could summon. The ship accelerated to a sizable fraction of lightspeed and just as quickly decelerated. The inertial dampeners couldn't quite compensate. He felt like he'd been kicked in the gut, and Iara's shouting was blowing a hole in his eardrum. Or maybe that was just the impact of his skull against the headrest.
"Reversion," he managed. "We're now a third of a planet away from the Xen'Chi and the City. High orbit, or close enough."
"You're going to get us killed one day, Lyn." She sounded out of breath, from either the impact or the yelling. "Take us in, if you can."
"You questioning my piloting skills or the ship?" he joked, steering for the surface.
"How is she?"
"All lights green except the inertial dampeners, which may need a tuneup sometime in the near future."
"I hate you."
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18896
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
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Proton torpedoes streaked down towards the planet below. The Frigates and the Cruisers were picking military targets and currently targeting solutions were being worked out so that they'd be able to take down the planetary shield generator and then the Xai'Chen would be able to reduce the City to slag. As it was, the ships in question were spreading, incase enemy planetary weaponry came online. Fighters were moving now, to ionize and capture the little freighter that had arrived in system.
Bolts flashed through space, impacting against the small freighter. Within moments it was disabled, and a small support ship was towing it via tractor beam towards a Hetchek Cruiser. There were Chosen ready and waiting onboard the Cruiser.
But Isl'kon couldn't forget about the Thrall down below. He was getting reports of how the Jedi were killing the Thrall very well. But the cannon fodder of the Xen'chi were doing very well. They'd already inflicted some losses on the Jedi, losses that the Overseer hadn't expected to obtain yet. Despite their fierce strength and power of the Force, the Jedi could be killed and would be. He turned to his XO.
"Send in the main soldiers. Chosen are to board their transports." He said, turning for the second sentence, so that his eyes met those of the leader of the Chosen. She nodded once, before leaving the bridge.
Bolts flashed through space, impacting against the small freighter. Within moments it was disabled, and a small support ship was towing it via tractor beam towards a Hetchek Cruiser. There were Chosen ready and waiting onboard the Cruiser.
But Isl'kon couldn't forget about the Thrall down below. He was getting reports of how the Jedi were killing the Thrall very well. But the cannon fodder of the Xen'chi were doing very well. They'd already inflicted some losses on the Jedi, losses that the Overseer hadn't expected to obtain yet. Despite their fierce strength and power of the Force, the Jedi could be killed and would be. He turned to his XO.
"Send in the main soldiers. Chosen are to board their transports." He said, turning for the second sentence, so that his eyes met those of the leader of the Chosen. She nodded once, before leaving the bridge.
Everyone knows "Pops and Junior = #Ratings"
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
#Valkob4Life
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
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False Dichotomy
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Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2003 10:55 am
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The freighter shuddered with every hit, jarring Lyn's teeth and shaking his grip on the control yoke. A sharper vibration and the occasional visible flare of red told him that Iara was firing back, but it was in vain. After only a few seconds of sustained bombardment, the freighter blacked out. Only the glow of the planet's surface lit the cockpit. Lyn could hear Iara making her way back from the gun turrets.
"Lyn," she said, and the freighter lurched. Unbuckled, she staggered against a control panel. Lyn winced and spun the copilot's chair towards her.
"They hate Jedi," she said as she sat down and turned to face the sky. "I don't know why they're pulling us in, but if they think their Darksiders can't beat you, they might just vaporize us." Worry stood out in her face and the Force. Lyn patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. He wasn't using the Force actively - he wasn't one of those who walked around with a perpetual stink of power around them. His Force signature, like his personality, was actually somewhat subdued, making it rather hard to tell just how strong he could be. Iara knew that, but he couldn't blame her for worrying.
"Don't worry," he said. "Trust the Force. My grandfather told me that hope can sometimes affect it. And besides - even if it's our time to die, Alu is in good hands."
Iara relaxed, leaned back in the chair and, taking a deep breath, held it. "That's true enough," she admitted. "Well, let's see what happens."
He held Iara's hand as they waited, and as the cruiser grew larger, dominating the view. Beyond it lay the Xen'Chi fleet, reminder that if they prevailed in some unknown way, they might not be able to escape. But if that was so, he'd do everything in his power to get Iara to safety.
"I've pulled some stunts in the past, love," she said, interrupting his train of thought, "but whatever gets us out of there is going to be something worthy of remembering."
"That it is."
The cruiser's docking bay gaped, gun turrets tracking them. One more obstacle to escape on the way out, he thought optimistically. The Dark Side felt stronger here, as if those soldiers on the floor of the bay were Force-users.
Wait.
They were.
"I feel it too," Iara said softly. Lyn squeezed her hand reassuringly and started calculating gun angles. The parking space ahead of them could still be hit by two or three of the defensive turrets right outside the bay, which ruled out using the freighter's belly gun unless they could very quickly leave the freighter after firing. And even if they got out of the range of those guns, there were five Xen'Chi Darksiders visible, and they had to find a way out while dealing with a ship-wide lockdown.
This would take some serious creativity. Five-to-two odds were never pleasant; in fact, he couldn't recall ever doing that, although he and Ashin had gone up against Kishkumen and two minor Darksiders at the same time. That had to count for something.
"Alright," he said quietly, unbuckling and heading back to the loading ramp with Iara at his side. The disabled transport touched down with a slight shiver. "Let's see what we can do. Do you want to take them now, or wait until they attack, or wait until they take us somewhere else?"
"They'll be expecting us to fight immediately, right?"
"And even if we don't, well...there's got to be a reason they had us disabled. They don't want us immediately dead."
"Interesting," she said, hefting her lightsabre. "Well, what other weapons do we have on this ship?"
He smiled, grimly, and stopped in front of the ramp's control panel. Sparks were already flying from the part of the floor that contained the ramp's lock. "I have a glop grenade in a pouch on my belt. Other than that, it's just lightsabres and your service blaster."
"You do like to travel light, don't you."
"Absolutely." The sparks stopped, but a small hole in the floor glowed red, the only light in this part of the ship. The whole ship creaked as some force was brought to bear against the underside of the ramp. Slowly, it edged down; Lyn and Iara stepped into corridors on opposite sides, out of the firing arc being created. A rush of warm air came in through the widening slot; Lyn shucked his outer robe, Iara her hooded cloak. The ramp touched down; nodding at each other, they stepped empty-handed onto the ramp, a very tall blue-skinned woman with one and a half lekku, and a slightly taller, thin, red-skinned Zeltron.
"Lyn," she said, and the freighter lurched. Unbuckled, she staggered against a control panel. Lyn winced and spun the copilot's chair towards her.
"They hate Jedi," she said as she sat down and turned to face the sky. "I don't know why they're pulling us in, but if they think their Darksiders can't beat you, they might just vaporize us." Worry stood out in her face and the Force. Lyn patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. He wasn't using the Force actively - he wasn't one of those who walked around with a perpetual stink of power around them. His Force signature, like his personality, was actually somewhat subdued, making it rather hard to tell just how strong he could be. Iara knew that, but he couldn't blame her for worrying.
"Don't worry," he said. "Trust the Force. My grandfather told me that hope can sometimes affect it. And besides - even if it's our time to die, Alu is in good hands."
Iara relaxed, leaned back in the chair and, taking a deep breath, held it. "That's true enough," she admitted. "Well, let's see what happens."
He held Iara's hand as they waited, and as the cruiser grew larger, dominating the view. Beyond it lay the Xen'Chi fleet, reminder that if they prevailed in some unknown way, they might not be able to escape. But if that was so, he'd do everything in his power to get Iara to safety.
"I've pulled some stunts in the past, love," she said, interrupting his train of thought, "but whatever gets us out of there is going to be something worthy of remembering."
"That it is."
The cruiser's docking bay gaped, gun turrets tracking them. One more obstacle to escape on the way out, he thought optimistically. The Dark Side felt stronger here, as if those soldiers on the floor of the bay were Force-users.
Wait.
They were.
"I feel it too," Iara said softly. Lyn squeezed her hand reassuringly and started calculating gun angles. The parking space ahead of them could still be hit by two or three of the defensive turrets right outside the bay, which ruled out using the freighter's belly gun unless they could very quickly leave the freighter after firing. And even if they got out of the range of those guns, there were five Xen'Chi Darksiders visible, and they had to find a way out while dealing with a ship-wide lockdown.
This would take some serious creativity. Five-to-two odds were never pleasant; in fact, he couldn't recall ever doing that, although he and Ashin had gone up against Kishkumen and two minor Darksiders at the same time. That had to count for something.
"Alright," he said quietly, unbuckling and heading back to the loading ramp with Iara at his side. The disabled transport touched down with a slight shiver. "Let's see what we can do. Do you want to take them now, or wait until they attack, or wait until they take us somewhere else?"
"They'll be expecting us to fight immediately, right?"
"And even if we don't, well...there's got to be a reason they had us disabled. They don't want us immediately dead."
"Interesting," she said, hefting her lightsabre. "Well, what other weapons do we have on this ship?"
He smiled, grimly, and stopped in front of the ramp's control panel. Sparks were already flying from the part of the floor that contained the ramp's lock. "I have a glop grenade in a pouch on my belt. Other than that, it's just lightsabres and your service blaster."
"You do like to travel light, don't you."
"Absolutely." The sparks stopped, but a small hole in the floor glowed red, the only light in this part of the ship. The whole ship creaked as some force was brought to bear against the underside of the ramp. Slowly, it edged down; Lyn and Iara stepped into corridors on opposite sides, out of the firing arc being created. A rush of warm air came in through the widening slot; Lyn shucked his outer robe, Iara her hooded cloak. The ramp touched down; nodding at each other, they stepped empty-handed onto the ramp, a very tall blue-skinned woman with one and a half lekku, and a slightly taller, thin, red-skinned Zeltron.
Dark Lord of the Grill
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Location: Searching for a nursing home for Nichalus
Mand'alor
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18896
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
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The Chosen. The Force sensitive warriors of the Xen’chi. Highly trained and very deadly. Wielding blades never truly seen before by the galaxy, and employing techniques that none were prepared for, the Chosen were now to reveal themselves to the galaxy.
As the Jedi killers.
Before the transports was the so called City of the Jedi. The Thrall had softened up the Jedi and Taylon ranks. The Xen’chi soldiers had begun to tire and tax the Jedi and Taylon ranks. But the Chosen were going to strip them bare. They would show the galaxy what their precious guardians and protectors looked like battered, bruised and broken. And then they would kill them. The arrival of the Xen’chi fleet had only been the preamble, the introduction to the masterpiece that would be wrought here. Shan Tslav, the leader of the Chosen here, looked out from one of the transports that carried her and her brethren done towards the planet below. Her purple skin almost glowed with excitement at the battle that would soon come. The black tattoos over her body spoke of the years of preparation she’d undergone. The training, the pain, the suffering, all of it would be worth it this day. As if it already wasn’t. She smiled and licked her lips, as if she could taste the Jedi blood.
“Chosen,” she spoke, knowing that her voice was being carried to all the transports. “Chosen, this was day, this hour, this moment, has been given to us by the gods. The Xa’Tieron has come, the prophesized leader. The Jedi before us are weak as they always have been. We shall break them, and ransack this planet. We are a scourge, and we shall not stop till the Jedi are bloody and the masses can see their bones. Throughout the galaxy, our brothers-in-arms strike at the sad excuses of life that populate these worlds. They crush and overcome. We know that these people, nothing more than fat sheep, await their Jedi to come and save them. This is those same Jedi’s City. How can we let it stay standing?” She didn’t bother to listen for the answer. She could feel it. It reverberated through her, strengthening in volume. It sang like a song that could not, would not be stopped. Tslav switched frequencies on the comm. unit and spoke into it.
“Prefect Dresk, we’ve reached the atmosphere. Prepare.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Tilsoric Kur didn’t bother to look up into the sky. When the Prefect said something it was true or about to become true. Plus, he wouldn’t have been able to see the transports just yet. He took the Prefect’s words as they were and merely concentrated on getting his plasma shots into the nearest soldier’s body. Charging forward, he growled and whipped a soldier in the head, shattering the human’s helmet in the process and most likely his skull as well. The Xen’chi kept moving, gun never silent as he did so. A green blade came out of nowhere.
Kur backpedaled and turned to the right sharply. There was a Jedi there, jumping everywhere, acrobatically. His blade of green light moved this way and that, deflecting plasma bolts and to Kur’s amazement and grudging respect, sending them back sometimes at their foe. As the leader of this squad, he was going to bring down the Jedi. This one was the most dangerous of the scum in their designated control area.
The black haired warrior landed near him and eyed him. He saw the Xen’chi grin at him, and noted with disgust the feral animal like state of the soldier. The Jedi could tell that this one was a leader of sorts. Not a high rank, but what did he know of the Xen’chi’s ranking systems? He just wished the warrior before him dead, though that was un Jedi like. These were times when the Dark Side could and would easily grasp the hearts and minds of the Jedi Order. He spun the blade in his hand. There were plenty more Xen’chi behind this one all engaging the Taylon soldiers around him. Soresu would be useful in this situation, but he felt more soldiers coming to support him, so he decided against it, wanting to inspire the Taylon soldiers as best he could. “Hello there.” The Xen’chi spoke and then opened fire, at his feet.
Tilsoric watched the Jedi’s blade go down to deflect the shots. Then he saw the legs lift. He’d guessed right. After watching the Jedi’s movements, Kur had seen that the Jedi used very showy and agile movements. They had a weakness. It was proven when the Jedi leapt into the air, moving over his foe. It was though time slowed. Kur watched, his head tilted and turned moving in time with his airborne foe. As the Jedi came down, time seemed to revert back to normal. Tilsoric threw down his gun, and pulled his Srraka blade out. He started a spin that completed its first cycle as the Jedi landed and caught the unsuspecting Jedi, whose back was turned to him, at the middle of his neck. He heard nothing but the clean slice of the blade through flesh, tissue, and bone. The head rolled off, and red blood began to spurt upwards like a fountain. The now headless Jedi still stood, and the second rotation came in at the hip. The upper body slowly slid off the lower body and the legs crumpled. Kur let go of the blade and turned watching its flight path.
It lodged itself in the throat of an oncoming Taylon soldier. More were behind them, he could smell their insecurity and greenness. They’d probably just finished their training. One screamed, louder than the man who had the blade sticking out of his throat. The dying, flailing soldier was spraying them all with blood, and their armor was becoming slick red. While they were in disarray, he grabbed the cylinder from which the green blade had come from and pocketed it, taking it as a trophy. He rolled towards them as the soldiers got oriented and opened fire. Grabbing his gun, he started spraying them with plasma.
Suddenly a barrage of white plasma hit the soldiers from the side. He turned to see some other members of his squad coming to his aid. He reached down to the soldier who was gurgling and hanging onto life as best he could. There was a jet black blade embedded in his throat. Hands quivering with shock and pain struggled to grasp it. “I believe you have something of mine.” Tilsoric said, wrenching out the blade. There was a cry and a huge spurt of blood accompanying it. The Taylon soldier’s last thoughts were If this was how the Xen’chi soldiers were, Force only knew how strong the Chose- But it was interrupted by a heavy boot to his skull.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Tslav’s transport landed and she was out as soon as the boarding ramp lowered. Wind whipped at her clothing and she could taste the death and despair in the air. She moved swiftly. She had already been filled in on the current status just after they’d reached the atmosphere of the planet. Her battle pike in both hands, Shan ran forth, and the Chosen followed her.
The final tolling of the bells had started.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
In one of the hangars onboard the Hetchek-class Cruiser, two Jedi had stepped off of a boarding ramp of a freighter and stood now inside the ship. There were eight Chosen in the hangar, and around ten regular soldiers. In addition, there were twenty Nansen Thrall soldiers. All carried plasma weaponry, and the Chosen wielded their obsidian weapons. Of the Chosen before them, one stepped forward and spoke in Basic. “Welcome Jedi. Are you…lost?”
As the Jedi killers.
Before the transports was the so called City of the Jedi. The Thrall had softened up the Jedi and Taylon ranks. The Xen’chi soldiers had begun to tire and tax the Jedi and Taylon ranks. But the Chosen were going to strip them bare. They would show the galaxy what their precious guardians and protectors looked like battered, bruised and broken. And then they would kill them. The arrival of the Xen’chi fleet had only been the preamble, the introduction to the masterpiece that would be wrought here. Shan Tslav, the leader of the Chosen here, looked out from one of the transports that carried her and her brethren done towards the planet below. Her purple skin almost glowed with excitement at the battle that would soon come. The black tattoos over her body spoke of the years of preparation she’d undergone. The training, the pain, the suffering, all of it would be worth it this day. As if it already wasn’t. She smiled and licked her lips, as if she could taste the Jedi blood.
“Chosen,” she spoke, knowing that her voice was being carried to all the transports. “Chosen, this was day, this hour, this moment, has been given to us by the gods. The Xa’Tieron has come, the prophesized leader. The Jedi before us are weak as they always have been. We shall break them, and ransack this planet. We are a scourge, and we shall not stop till the Jedi are bloody and the masses can see their bones. Throughout the galaxy, our brothers-in-arms strike at the sad excuses of life that populate these worlds. They crush and overcome. We know that these people, nothing more than fat sheep, await their Jedi to come and save them. This is those same Jedi’s City. How can we let it stay standing?” She didn’t bother to listen for the answer. She could feel it. It reverberated through her, strengthening in volume. It sang like a song that could not, would not be stopped. Tslav switched frequencies on the comm. unit and spoke into it.
“Prefect Dresk, we’ve reached the atmosphere. Prepare.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Tilsoric Kur didn’t bother to look up into the sky. When the Prefect said something it was true or about to become true. Plus, he wouldn’t have been able to see the transports just yet. He took the Prefect’s words as they were and merely concentrated on getting his plasma shots into the nearest soldier’s body. Charging forward, he growled and whipped a soldier in the head, shattering the human’s helmet in the process and most likely his skull as well. The Xen’chi kept moving, gun never silent as he did so. A green blade came out of nowhere.
Kur backpedaled and turned to the right sharply. There was a Jedi there, jumping everywhere, acrobatically. His blade of green light moved this way and that, deflecting plasma bolts and to Kur’s amazement and grudging respect, sending them back sometimes at their foe. As the leader of this squad, he was going to bring down the Jedi. This one was the most dangerous of the scum in their designated control area.
The black haired warrior landed near him and eyed him. He saw the Xen’chi grin at him, and noted with disgust the feral animal like state of the soldier. The Jedi could tell that this one was a leader of sorts. Not a high rank, but what did he know of the Xen’chi’s ranking systems? He just wished the warrior before him dead, though that was un Jedi like. These were times when the Dark Side could and would easily grasp the hearts and minds of the Jedi Order. He spun the blade in his hand. There were plenty more Xen’chi behind this one all engaging the Taylon soldiers around him. Soresu would be useful in this situation, but he felt more soldiers coming to support him, so he decided against it, wanting to inspire the Taylon soldiers as best he could. “Hello there.” The Xen’chi spoke and then opened fire, at his feet.
Tilsoric watched the Jedi’s blade go down to deflect the shots. Then he saw the legs lift. He’d guessed right. After watching the Jedi’s movements, Kur had seen that the Jedi used very showy and agile movements. They had a weakness. It was proven when the Jedi leapt into the air, moving over his foe. It was though time slowed. Kur watched, his head tilted and turned moving in time with his airborne foe. As the Jedi came down, time seemed to revert back to normal. Tilsoric threw down his gun, and pulled his Srraka blade out. He started a spin that completed its first cycle as the Jedi landed and caught the unsuspecting Jedi, whose back was turned to him, at the middle of his neck. He heard nothing but the clean slice of the blade through flesh, tissue, and bone. The head rolled off, and red blood began to spurt upwards like a fountain. The now headless Jedi still stood, and the second rotation came in at the hip. The upper body slowly slid off the lower body and the legs crumpled. Kur let go of the blade and turned watching its flight path.
It lodged itself in the throat of an oncoming Taylon soldier. More were behind them, he could smell their insecurity and greenness. They’d probably just finished their training. One screamed, louder than the man who had the blade sticking out of his throat. The dying, flailing soldier was spraying them all with blood, and their armor was becoming slick red. While they were in disarray, he grabbed the cylinder from which the green blade had come from and pocketed it, taking it as a trophy. He rolled towards them as the soldiers got oriented and opened fire. Grabbing his gun, he started spraying them with plasma.
Suddenly a barrage of white plasma hit the soldiers from the side. He turned to see some other members of his squad coming to his aid. He reached down to the soldier who was gurgling and hanging onto life as best he could. There was a jet black blade embedded in his throat. Hands quivering with shock and pain struggled to grasp it. “I believe you have something of mine.” Tilsoric said, wrenching out the blade. There was a cry and a huge spurt of blood accompanying it. The Taylon soldier’s last thoughts were If this was how the Xen’chi soldiers were, Force only knew how strong the Chose- But it was interrupted by a heavy boot to his skull.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Tslav’s transport landed and she was out as soon as the boarding ramp lowered. Wind whipped at her clothing and she could taste the death and despair in the air. She moved swiftly. She had already been filled in on the current status just after they’d reached the atmosphere of the planet. Her battle pike in both hands, Shan ran forth, and the Chosen followed her.
The final tolling of the bells had started.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
In one of the hangars onboard the Hetchek-class Cruiser, two Jedi had stepped off of a boarding ramp of a freighter and stood now inside the ship. There were eight Chosen in the hangar, and around ten regular soldiers. In addition, there were twenty Nansen Thrall soldiers. All carried plasma weaponry, and the Chosen wielded their obsidian weapons. Of the Chosen before them, one stepped forward and spoke in Basic. “Welcome Jedi. Are you…lost?”
Everyone knows "Pops and Junior = #Ratings"
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
#Valkob4Life
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
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False Dichotomy
Posts: 4416
Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2003 10:55 am
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"Well, that depends on your point of view-" Lyn said, but Iara cut him off. "Sorry, dear," she said. He smiled vapidly. "Of course, dear."
"Personally," Iara said, casting an equally vapid smile at the Chosen, "I'm not much of a Jedi. Just wanted to straighten that out. You were saying, dear?"
Lyn nodded "Whether we're lost or not depends on your point of view, really."
"Personally," Iara said, casting an equally vapid smile at the Chosen, "I'm not much of a Jedi. Just wanted to straighten that out. You were saying, dear?"
Lyn nodded "Whether we're lost or not depends on your point of view, really."
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18896
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
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"You two are mates." It wasn't a question but a statement. Despite the disdain and disgust he held for the beings before him, the blue skinned female was somewhat attractive. He could see her being lead away in chains and providing pleasure for the warriors. Until they were tired of her.
Her mate on the other hand. He could die. "Jedi or no, you seem to have come to a place where you are not wanted. You must pay for that."
Her mate on the other hand. He could die. "Jedi or no, you seem to have come to a place where you are not wanted. You must pay for that."
Everyone knows "Pops and Junior = #Ratings"
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
#Valkob4Life
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
#Valkob4Life
False Dichotomy
Posts: 4416
Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2003 10:55 am
Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2003 10:55 am
"Interesting thing, property rights," Iara said flippantly, while Lyn nodded in agreement. "I mean, we're trespassing against the people down on the planet, who actually own this part of space. Then again," she said in mock reflection, "they do say possession is nine-tenths of the law. So I guess we have to pay the fine." She half-turned towards Lyn on her right. "Honey, you have the credit chit, right?"
The young Jedi Master fished a credit-transfer chit from his utility belt. "Who do we make the transfer out to?" he asked the Xen'Chi who'd spoken. "And, for that matter, how much?"
The young Jedi Master fished a credit-transfer chit from his utility belt. "Who do we make the transfer out to?" he asked the Xen'Chi who'd spoken. "And, for that matter, how much?"
False Dichotomy
Posts: 4416
Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2003 10:55 am
Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2003 10:55 am
Mikael Lytle, Sith Apprentice to Iara Clane Beorht, dropped out of hyperspace and barely slowed down. At fourteen and small for his age, he had needed to adjust the YT-1300s seat and controls - his Master usually used this ship, and she was six feet even.
I'm gonna bring her back. I'm gonna bring her back...
Focusing on her presence, he felt his eyes drawn to a group of starships over the planet. Big ships. Ships firing at the surface.
Ships reeking of the Dark Side. And Iara somewhere in the middle of it. Mikael spat.
"Why couldn't she just have stayed how she was? Why'd that stupid Zeltron have to come along?"
The fighter screen was all out of position, but they were fast. He corkscrewed through them at top speed, using the Force to anticipate their shots. Laser and ion fire pinged off the shields; they shifted from green to yellow on the displays. Relentlessly, he narrowed the sense of his Master down to one ship: a cruiser.
A big one.
The main guns opened up, and then he was putting all his earlier maneuvers to shame. The view in the cockpit spun crazily, but he honed in on the docking bay with a Sith's instincts. He held his lightsabre, inactive, with his left hand, not noticing that the shields had gone to red and then black. He noticed, in fact, only when the freighter itself finally took a hit. A main-gun hit. System alerts wailed. Another hit, and another, and the docking bay yawned open in front of him. A clang and a look at aft sensors told him he'd just lost part of the ship. In fact, he was trailing debris like a comet.
I'm gonna bring her back. I'm gonna bring her back...
Focusing on her presence, he felt his eyes drawn to a group of starships over the planet. Big ships. Ships firing at the surface.
Ships reeking of the Dark Side. And Iara somewhere in the middle of it. Mikael spat.
"Why couldn't she just have stayed how she was? Why'd that stupid Zeltron have to come along?"
The fighter screen was all out of position, but they were fast. He corkscrewed through them at top speed, using the Force to anticipate their shots. Laser and ion fire pinged off the shields; they shifted from green to yellow on the displays. Relentlessly, he narrowed the sense of his Master down to one ship: a cruiser.
A big one.
The main guns opened up, and then he was putting all his earlier maneuvers to shame. The view in the cockpit spun crazily, but he honed in on the docking bay with a Sith's instincts. He held his lightsabre, inactive, with his left hand, not noticing that the shields had gone to red and then black. He noticed, in fact, only when the freighter itself finally took a hit. A main-gun hit. System alerts wailed. Another hit, and another, and the docking bay yawned open in front of him. A clang and a look at aft sensors told him he'd just lost part of the ship. In fact, he was trailing debris like a comet.
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18896
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Mikael’s ship came burning through into the hangar. He knew that his ship would soon be destroyed, but he had found his master and her husband through the Force. Now what he had felt through the Force was before his eyes. He saw Iara and was relieved to see that she was in one piece. She did however look a little injured and for that, he would repay the Xen’chi two times over if not more. He noted with little satisfaction that the Zeltron was alive. Lytle then hit the lower ramp button and ran, using Force Speed to reach the ramp quickly. But the door wouldn’t lower, jammed by one of the many hits the ship had taken since it had arrived in the system.
The lightsaber that was in his hand exploded as energy coursed through it. The result was a red blade that shot up through the air. He put it to use cutting a circle through the door. The metal fell out and he saw the stars and blackness of space move farther and farther away from him as the ship moved back and down in the hangar. He leapt out from the ship, blade in front of him. He turned the leap into a somersault and landed on his feet, back to the fight, something that he corrected shortly afterwards.
Beorht meanwhile saw the distraction as something that could help save them. He saw through the Force that the ship’s missile bays were full. He realized as he dodged a laser blast, that the Xen’chi would soon be calling for reinforcements. Indeed, many of the Xen’chi were looking for cover and a space to regroup behind as Iara was dealing death in droves. He needed to find a way to get them out of here, though there was only one door out of the hangar. There were no other ships in the hangar. And then it hit him. This was a hangar. He didn’t know the layout of Xen’chi ships, but this was a rather small hangar. The chances of there being another hangar on the other side of one of the walls here was a great one.
A plan quickly formulated in his mind. He reached out through the Force and grabbed the missile that was loaded in each of the two launchers and pulled them out. He flung the first at the closest but also the largest collection of Xen’chi warriors Because the missile was not actually ignited, the damage it cause was even more as the fuel was able to explode as well. Lyn hurled the other missile at the door to the hangar, which was just opening. He could see a few Xen’chi just waiting to bust through, but they would have to wait as the missile hit the door, the warhead detonating.
He saw metal chunks rain down the ceiling and smiled, knowing that the blockade had been set up and would probably be very useful. Suddenly he felt a surge in the Force, like a dark spike being wedged into a gaping wound. He could only wonder what it was, as the rest of his concentration was used up in getting to his wife and telling her of his plan.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A dark spike, a srraka blade, reentered a wound which it had just created. The Jedi Knight in question screamed in pain as the blade was turned in the wound. Shan Tslav leaned forward and sank her teeth into the man’s neck, only temporarily satiating a quite literal bloodlust. She pulled the blade out and let go of her prey. She turned to his padawan, a scared young woman of perhaps eight or nine standard years.
The young girl stared at the female Xen’chi Chosen. To put it more correctly, she stared at the blood that dripped from the jaw and that had colored her master’s killer stark red. Her brows dipped as she concentrated, lifting her lightsaber up. Suddenly the green blade flickered and disappeared. She looked down and saw smoke wafting upwards. The Xen’chi woman had sliced the top part of her saber off. The padawan looked up.
Shan had already slid her srraka blade back and now leapt forward, fingers outstretched. Hardened nails dug into the young girl’s chest and blood slowly began to leak from them. Tslav didn’t notice, she was already using the momentum from her leap to good use. She pushed the girl down and brought her feet up and into the girl’s chest as well. Pulling her nails out of the newly created wounds, she pushed off with her feet, casting the now dead padawan to the ground.
She landed on the ground and picked up her stave which she’d discarded some time ago. The Chosen moved over the battlefield quickly, avoiding blaster and plasma fire. The Xen’chi were pushing the Jedi back, slowly but surely. The softening up that the Thralls and then the ground soldiers had accomplished was now being exploited. The weakening Jedi were forced to give up ground at every step.
Tslav attributed this to the gods. The Chosen’s fighting style was one that the Jedi had never seen before. Their mindset was ones that the Jedi could not decipher. Their weapons were ones that the Jedi could not counter. She intended to slaughter as many before they could think of a possible solution to any of the three.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Tilsoric Kur poured plasma fire towards a Taylon squad. His Chosen brethren had joined the fight and he was even more certain that the flag that would fly over the City of the Jedi at the end of the day would be that of the Xen’chi Dominion. He would be alive to spit yet again on the bloody and torn rag that would be the Taylon flag. He watched as another of the soldiers fell and then a shadow fell across them. He didn’t spare a glance up, but watched as they did. The fear on their face told him enough.
A Chosen female dropped from the sky, swinging chains of the same black material used in the srraka blades. Attached to the ends of the chains were many more smaller chains and at the tips of those chains were thin but sharp spikes. The first soldier that was hit by the chains was thrown towards Kur. He stopped firing and flattened himself against the wall he was standing next to. He saw the body as it sailed past, only eight inches or so from himself. The helmet was shattered, and multiple long gashes could be seen in the soldier’s face, blood leaking from them all. Tilsoric smiled.
He turned back to see the Chosen expertly swinging the chains, moving her whole body as they did. Twists, jumps, cartwheels, turns, everything. To the Xen’chi warrior it was a seductive dance, and everything that came in contact with those chains wasn’t left the same. Tilsoric saw the Chosen’s arm lash out, and the weapon wrapped around her right hand became an extension of her body, the spikes moving outwards and into the back of one soldier. The man screamed, as he dropped his gun, arms wrenched outwards. The Chosen pulled him back, and turned, using the body as a weapon against an incoming squad.
They stopped to catch their comrade, and Kur took this time to help his brethren. He took careful aim and depressed the trigger of his gun. White plasma bolts escaped the barrel with a whine, aimed and less than a second later entering the squad’s formation. Chosen and Warrior fought together and a simple squad of soldiers could not stand up to the two sided assault. Tilsoric, after what only seemed like a few moments, stopped firing and turned to the Chosen female before him. He knelt in her presence.
He had only seen the Temple of the Chosen at Ka’sra once, and like all Xen’chi, he respected the Chosen not only for their skills in combat, but for their impact in the Xen’chi’s religious beliefs. Tilsoric took it a step further, a personal reverence for all the Chosen. He watched as the chains twirled in the air, wrapping themselves around her lithe and nubile body. Red blood dripped off the tips, leaving dots on the ground in a trail as she walked towards him. She was above the warrior and she knew it. “What is your name, Warrior?”
“My name is Tilsoric Kur, Chosen. And I would be your humble servant.” He replied quickly, his eyes locked with hers. She nodded slowly. He noted the tattoos that covered her body. He wanted to mate with her, and both of them knew it. She didn’t need her Force skills to tell, and he didn’t need the stirring in his loins either.
“A humble servant indeed. One finger touched his cheek, and she gently wiped off a fleck of blood from a previous kill. She brought the finger to her mouth and slid it in, closing her lips. She dragged the finger out slowly before speaking again. “My name is Vashna, and my servant you are, but only if you survive this battle, Tilsoric Kur. Don’t fail me. Don’t fail the Xa’tieron. Don’t fail the gods.” Suddenly she was gone. He looked up and saw that she was airborne, looking for a new area to pounce upon. He rose, his resolve even firmer.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jedi Master Cazzik Wyn, recently resurrected from the land of the deceased, leaned against the stone wall, taking a deep breath. The Chosen had come, the darkness revealing itself. He let the breath out and took another like it. The Jedi Master’s senses screamed. He rose and spun his blade, cleaving the arm off of a Xen’chi soldier that was running past his position. He ducked back behind his cover. There were a few padawans behind the stone wall near him. They had all lost their masters, and he’d brought them here as he found them.
One of them came up to him and he looked at the young child, easily only seven years old. “What are we going to do, Master Wyn? There’s too many of them.” He smiled and reached out a dirt encrusted hand to comfort the scared padawan. He felt sorry for the child who was being exposed to something that no child, regardless of Force sensitivity should see.
“We are going to put our trust in the Force. It hasn’t failed me in all my years, and I know it won’t fail us now.” He was waiting for a Knight to come and stand watch over them so that Wyn could go back into the field and give his tiring strength to the fight. Wave after wave of soldiers had come at him, and he’d battered them back time and time again. But the Chosen were something else. Reports from the frontier parts of the battlefield…what little snippets of reports were received before the Chosen killed the soldiers making the reports, told a frightful tale of death and destruction being wrought through the Taylon and Jedi ranks.
What shocked Cazzik to the core was not only the ferocity of the warriors, as that would be expected of their foe, but of the darkness in their hearts. It was literally a physical battle of what would normally be considered a spiritual battle. Here on Taylon, the war was not just Chosen versus Jedi, Xen’chi versus the free peoples of the galaxy. It transcended the smaller players. It was the light side versus the dark side, the two sides of the Force pitting themselves against each other in a showdown that, in the end, would only cause more spirits to reside in the underworlds of the galaxy’s religions.
Cazzik looked up as the Jedi Knight he’d called for arrived. He nodded once and after bidding the padawans a good bye, jumped the stone wall. The time he’d had behind the wall with the padawans had given him a chance to rest. Now he was looking for Xen’chi. He didn’t have to look far he found. He spun, and twirled his blue saber, slicing off the barrel of one enemy warrior’s gun. He continued walking past the warrior, blade lunging out. It would be considered blindly to some and the result would be considered lucky to others, but not to a Jedi like Wyn. The blade slid into the warrior’s chest, as he’d turned around to try to attack Wyn.
Cazzik pulled the blade out and lifted it, blocking a blaster bolt and sending it back to its owner. He looked around and then down, off of the level that he was on. He saw an area that needed assistance. So the Jedi Master was in the air, using the Force to amplify his jump. He landed with a thud, cracking the ground upon which he fell upon. He looked up and smiled. His saber had traveled down with him, blade extended. The last meter and a half, it had cut through a Xen’chi warrior’s head. Wyn dashed through the two halves of a body as they fell, each to their own side.
His run was cut short, as he lurched to a stop. There was a weirdly tattooed half dressed man standing before him. Cazzik’s blade shifted from right to left and he couldn’t help but notice the sweaty palms that he’d developed. The Xen’chi before him smiled, almost sensing the fear. This was a Chosen. Cazzik could feel the dark side emanating from him. He couldn’t stop the fear, that would be foolishness. But he could defeat the fear, rise above the fear, and be a beacon of the light to those around him. He could show them that this Chosen warrior, he was nothing, just like the rest of the jedi killers. They could and would be defeated. He lifted his blade and moved in to strike.
Starting now.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Lyn-Char Beorht grimaced. Mikael had just informed him that of the two shuttles in the hangar that they were in, one was unlocked and but had no fuel. That was the good news. The bad news was that the ship’s controls were all in the Xen’chi’s native language, of which Lyn knew nothing of. Neither did Mikael who sat behind the controls, nor Iara who stood by the shuttle’s door. Lyn stood on guard, expecting a Xen’chi warrior to pop out of the floor and attack him.
He fingered the grenades he had with him. He’d been forced to use one already, and his bag of tricks was still healthy. But he didn’t know how long that would last, if they couldn’t get this ship up and running. As if to question it, the door to the hangar began to shake. Iara and he had placed a few crates in front of it and had pressed random numbers on the keypad, forcing it to lock down. Apparently the Xen’chi were about to get past the hastily prepared defense.
Lyn looked at his wife. “Here they come.” She nodded, silent.
The door slid sideways and there was nothing to be seen in the darkened hallway. Suddenly the crates exploded, having been subjected to a short torrent of white plasma. Xen’chi soldiers began to pour through the door. Beorht’s blue saber and Iara’s purple saber, which had been able to take a break from moving and cutting through enemy bodies and weapons were now back on the move. Their break was over, and their position assault.
Iara leapt into the air, moving her blade in a long arc downwards. She sliced through one foe and then another. She reached the ground and turned the jump into a roll. She came up at her husband’s feet. Beorht spared her a moment’s notice before turned to dispatch a warrior with a force push. The warrior had been trying to set up for a distance shot, and the Force push had crushed his arm.
Lyn was about to turn to one on his right, when he saw another Xen’chi warrior run up and shoot the distance shooter in the head. They would kill their wounded? But why? He didn’t understand. The wounded could be rehabilitated. Why did the Xen’chi kill their own wounded? He didn’t have any time to dote on the quandary, as the plasma fire in the hangar was beginning to increase. He spun in the air, blade blocking incoming plasma shots and redirecting the blasts back at the shooters.
Iara turned and then saw a blur of motion upwards. The Twi’lek’s eyes lifted upwards. The blur was there, moving too and fro, apparently trying to get the drop on Lyn. She lifted up into the air, to attack the…well she didn’t know what it was, but she did know that she was going to protect her husband. The blur dropped from the sky at a speed which to Iara was incredible. It hit her in the chest and she dropped from the sky. Lyn reached out and caught his wife through the Force, setting her on her feet.
She nodded her thanks and the two stood back to back, fighting the Xen’chi soldiers. Lyn saw the blur that Iara had been looking at. It was now joined by three blurs. The blurs slowed, and distinguishing features could be seen. Droids. Three of them. If he had to guess, they had been made by GAIT. Personal assassins? Did that mean that GAIT itself was here? Lyn hadn’t felt anything out of the ordinary, but perhaps in addition to the darkness of the Chosen on the ground below, GAIT was there, masking itself.
Either way, Beorht brought his saber up as the enemy warriors backed off allowing the three droids to slowly move forward. Iara could only hope that Mikael could get the shuttle up and running soon. She turned and Force pushed a Xen’chi warrior, throwing him towards the ground.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cazzik Wyn was thrown back, and landed on the ground. His back groaned in pain, but he moved past it, lifting his saber up to guard from any further attacks. The Chosen warrior merely stood there waiting for him to get up. Wyn did, and wiped his mouth, finding blood flowing from a cut. He grimaced, just thinking of the bacta that it would take to heal the wounded from the battle today. The Jedi Master rose to his full height and no sooner had he done this, did the Chosen rush forward, weapon held high. Cazzik mirrored his move and the two ran past each other, each bringing their weapon down as they did.
The two swords clashed, and Cazzik knew he was able to add to the short list of materials and weapons that could stop a lightsaber blade. He’d done that when he’d first tried to strike the Chosen but every time they clashed he was reminded by it. Cazzik pulled his blade back and lunged, trying a Makashi stab. The warrior batted the saber away, his face showing an intense sense of disapproval over Cazzik’s choice of attack. Wyn didn’t know what this meant, but he tried a different approach.
His opponent merely shifted his legs and deflected the attack. It had gone on like this for some time before Wyn had been thrown, and he didn’t see how to get past the Chosen’s guard. Both blades were roughly the same length, so neither had an advantage there. Cazzik went for the legs and his opponent moved to block. Then Cazzik instead of following through with the slice dragged his blade upwards. The chosen had to take a step back to enforce his block. It apparently felt that Wyn had used up enough time on the offensive, and now it drove forward, with ferocious blows. Cazzik kept up his defense, searching for an opening that failed to present itself.
They moved this way and that in a careful dance almost. Blade touched blade, the noise resounding above the rest of the sounds of the battlefield, at least to their own ears. Eyes locked with eyes, each at least respectful of the other’s prowess with a blade. The Chosen moved forward, going for Cazzik’s arm. The Jedi lifted his right arm and then tried to stab, his arm twisting at an odd angle. The Chosen let his back fall and Cazzik use the advantage, his other hand coming out and using Force Push.
The Chosen was slammed into the ground, and he howled in pain. But a second later, he was back on his feet, blade coming in for Cazzik’s mid section. Cazzik lifted up into the air, jumping over the Chosen. He landed a few feet away and turned. As he did, the Force alerted him to the Chosen’s move. He let his blade become perpendicular to the ground, to block the Chosen’s attack. Cazzik pulled the blade back quickly and swung it around coming around on the other side of the Chosen and at his neck. The Chosen dropped down like he had before, but this time was waiting for Cazzik to try the same trick again. Both used Force Push at the same time.
There was a moment where nothing happened, both of their willpowers in direct contest. And then it broke. The Chosen was thrown to the ground, and Cazzik was thrown into the air. The warrior used the momentum to pull off a backwards barrel roll, and he started running towards Cazzik. The Jedi master executed a perfect landing and held his blade at the ready. He was tiring, which wasn’t a surprise. He’d already had to fight the Thrall soldiers and then the Xen’chi foot soldiers. While they weren’t nearly on his level, the sheer number of them had slowly worn him down, and the Jedi had needed that reprieve with the padawans.
Now, he felt what energy he’d stored up during that break slowly leave him. His blade angled and blocked an incoming attack. It would only be a matter of time.
A matter of time before he fell.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Beorht fell to one knee, teeth clenched. The droids were fighting well, too well. He didn’t know how long that they’d be able to keep this up. His defenses kept getting overwhelmed. The speed and ferocity of these droids was insane. He didn’t know how to counter their attacks and found himself beaten back at every step. From what he could see, Iara faced the same problem.
Lyn leapt up into the air, and the droid did as well. The droids wielded lightsabers to and they clashed in the air as the two combatants fell to the ground. Lyn rolled on the ground and onto one knee, and blocked an attack that would have otherwise cut his neck off. He brought his hand up and sent a wave of force energy towards the droid. It responded by moving faster than he could blink to the left.
It would have reminded someone of stories of General Grievous’ “debut” at the battle of Hypori. The droids moved so fast, that Iara could barely describe them. She just knew she had to stop them somehow. “Mikael, how is the ship coming?” She called out, as she moved towards the shuttle while the droid that was attacking her chased her.
“I almost got it, master.” Her apprentice called out. She could have sworn she saw the running lights on the ship turn on, but she didn’t have time, as she was rolling to avoid the droid’s blue lightsaber. Her purple one locked into contest with its blue blade when she came up.
“Hurry, Mikael. We don’t have much time.”
“I’m trying Master. It’s very hard, I don’t think you know how hard.” Iara would have laughed if she could have. She looked over to her husband who was doing alright against his two droids. “I have the ship ready!” The two of them heard Mikael’s voice call out into the hangar, and he appeared at the ramp shortly after. They instinctively vaulted over to the lowered boarding ramp. Beorht grabbed Iara’s arm as the droids advanced.
“Iara, take Mikael and leave, now.” She looked at the droids like he’d just said he was going to take the one on the right. Then the full weight of what he’d said hit her.
“But…I can’t…I can’t just leave you. You just remembered we’re married, and Alu and…”
“You have to, Iara. If you stay, we all will die.” Beorht looked like a man that had accepted his fate. She looked into his eyes and then they kissed. Tears were in her eyes as she allowed Beorht to push her onto the ramp. “Pull the ramp up Mikael, and Mikael-” He said, getting his wife’s apprentice’s attention. “Take care of Iara for me.” Iara looked out the ramp and watched her husband turned to face his death. When the ramp had closed she turned and ran to the cockpit, Mikael following her quickly.
“Get us out of her now. Just go.” Mikael didn’t have to be told twice. Though he disliked the Zeltron with an extreme passion, his master’s husband did have his admiration and respect in the end. He threw the ship forward and it lurched out and into space. Beorht had told him to take care of Iara. From now on, that’s what he was going to do.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A stoic Jedi Knight Lyn-Char Beorht stood before the three GAIT droids as they spread out. He was going to die in this hangar, on this Hetch’chek cruiser and he knew it. But he was going to take these droids with them. There was a trace of sadness at his inability to give his wife a proper goodbye and to make the real goodbyes that he owed to Ember, Ashin, his child Alu, and the many more lives that had touched his own. He sighed and flicked his saber upwards.
The lead droid stopped its movements as its voice box activated. “Your dedication to the preservation of the other two organics is admirable, Jedi, but it will do you no good. They will die, eventually, and your sacrifice will have been in vain.”
“No one knows the future. But I know this: If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can imagine.” The droid was silent.
“Your Force does not affect the equation as easily as you think, Jedi.” The lightsabers of the three droids came up in almost a salute. Beorht flicked his up as well, before moving towards the lead droid, blade angling in for a stab. The droid managed to stop the attack, but Beorht was already moving. It was as if in his mind, the longer he held out against these droids the better his wife and her apprentice’s chances of escape were. The truth was far from that, but to a man knowing that he was going to die, it was something to latch onto, something to drive forward with.
The droids were prepared, had been prepared for the Jedi. But they were not prepared for a Jedi like Lyn-Char Beorht. The Zeltron moved here and there, faster than he had before. Their algorithms computed and could not understand the sudden burst of energy and speed. The lead droid’s statement was being proved wrong. The Force did affect the equation. The Zeltron’s already reddish skin shone with brilliance as he let more and more the Force flow through him. His moves became effortless almost, and he felt a sense of detachment from it all, as though he was floating in the room watching the fight unfold.
He watched all four blades interlock and a wave of force energy knocking the three droids back. They had been unable to dodge with their sabers locked and they rose in unison and came at Beorht. He watched himself move, spinning and kicking. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach, and then his chest. Then his stomach again and then his head. But he thought nothing of it, marveling at the fight below. The droids were beginning to tire, if such a thing was possible or made sense. Or maybe it was him who kept increasing his speed. At this point he couldn’t really tell.
There was a sudden shower of sparks. Beorht watched himself slice through the arm of one of the GAIT droids. The lead droid in fact. He smiled to himself and watched him finish destroying the lead droid. Iara and Mikael were going to escape, he was sure of it. Ember and Ashin would be alright. Thormatar, Halja, and the rest of the Jade Worlds…they were going to survive all of this. He watched, smile still on his face as the other two droids moved in for the kill.
One lightsaber blade slid into his stomach, while another slid through his back and up through his chest. The two blades were retracted and then he was stabbed again, once more in the stomach, and then through the head. A hole appeared in his body’s head. It was then that he realized that he had been watching everything at such a slow speed, for the combatants had been moving faster than the eye could see. He looked down and saw the three holes in his body. His fingers inched upwards to his forehead.
Oblivion
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jedi Master Cazzik Wyn felt the sharp stab of pain somewhere deep in his conscious. Up in space, someone had died. Someone powerful. A Jedi Master. It was sharp, driving past the aching muscles of his own body, replacing every sound he heard, with a cry. He felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if a single voice suddenly cried out in terror and was suddenly silenced. The man rose in the air, spinning his blade. He brought it down on the blade of the Chosen, and twisted, turning the move into a kick into the chest of the Chosen.
The Xen’chi stumbled back but quickly regained his footing. It was his footing that had kept throwing Cazzik off. The Xen’chi used a style he’d never seen before, and was exploiting this fact. Cazzik was reminded of this as the rest of the battlefield ambience and his own status came rushing back to him. He was bleeding from his left upper arm where the Chosen’s blade had sliced off a good portion of his skin. He’d picked up other nicks and scratches during the course of the fight.
Cazzik spun low to the ground as the Chosen came at him. His foe responded by leaping into the air, over Cazzik’s head. Cazzik tried to continue the spin and swing upwards, but his foe managed to evade the strike. The Jedi master was beginning to run out of tricks to use, something that was considerably hard to do considering how well he knew how to wield a blade.
He felt another stabbing pain, but this one was near him. Who had- he was interrupted by the weapon of his foe coming at him.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Shan slid her blade out of a Rodian Jedi’s chest. She reached down and hefted the double bladed lightsaber that he’d wielded. She clipped the lightsaber to her waist. The Rodian’s name was Bishhk and he had stated that he was going to stop her. Turns out he’d been wrong. Tslav smirked as she continued walking through the battlefield. Her mind shifted through those of the Xen’chi. She was searching for the place and the warrior that was causing her troops the greatest difficulty at the moment.
She found it. A human was causing the problem. She was already running towards his position, weapons at the ready. The human in question came into view. She saw that he wielded two lightsabers, one blue, and one red. She kept running blade out. The Jedi master turned from the chosen he was fighting and brought the blue blade up to defend himself. Shan just dropped to the ground, sliding on the ground and into his legs. He fell and she moved quickly. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she let her feet hook around his thighs, rendering his lower body useless to him. He was on top of her, and she couldn’t effectively deal with his upper body.
The Chosen male who had been fighting the man did that for her. Because the Jedi was so preoccupied with what the new Chosen was doing to him, he failed to see what the former was doing till it was too late. Both of his hands were felled slightly below the wrist. The Jedi howled in pain, a pain increased as Shan sank her teeth into his neck. His eyes were wide open, as the Chosen above him sank his blade into the man’s forehead.
The Chosen pulled his blade out as the Jedi went limp. Shan rolled him off of her. She tossed one of the blades to the Chosen, keeping the red one for herself. They did share the kill. She turned to the Chosen male now. “You will come with me, and add our brethren where I chose. Understood.” He nodded, knowing to keep quiet in the presence of Tslav. She closed her eyes and searched for the next one who was making a problem for her troops.
A few seconds later she opened her eyes and turned to the other. “Come.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Yalah Nyn spun low and cleaved through the legs of a Xen’chi warrior. She used Force Push to throw him towards one of his comrades. She turned and saw two Chosen coming towards her and turned to face them, content that the Taylon soldiers with her would be able to deal with the rest of the Xen’chi soldiers. She lifted her blue blade. The Twi’lek dug her feet in prepared to fight these two Chosen as it started to rain, thick heavy drops.
Shan went aerial while the other Chosen with her stayed on the ground. They rushed towards to the Twi’lek. Nyn jumped, to strike at Tslav first. The two blades clashed in the air, and the two combatants flew apart at the force of the connection. Shan turned the fall back to the ground into a flip and landed on her feet. Nyn wasn’t concerned with theatrics, knowing that she would need to keep all her wits about her. The male Chosen rushed at her as soon as she was on the ground.
Lightsaber struck black blade. Nyn brought the blade around hard. She was trying to batter her opponent into submission, knowing that if she tarried, the Chosen would gain the upper hand eventually. The male Chosen let her think she was getting through his defenses. He allowed the illusion to be maintained as long as he needed it to. Then he went in for the kill.
His blade knocked hers away and before she could react, he threw himself into a lunge. His sword sunk into her chest. A shocked look came over her face. Shan decided that so far, this alien woman was the only one to have fought with a bit of skill and though she was a foe and a Jedi, she was going to give her an honorable death. That meant Nyn’s head was rolling on the ground a few moments later.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cazzik lifted his lightsaber blade, trying to get his balance. The Chosen had sent him flying into the wall of a building. He was now on all fours and struggling to get up. The Chosen slid along the ground, almost floating on the water. Cazzik loosely swung the blade and collapsed into the water, blade extinguishing. He was tired. Too tired. He was screamed at through the Force and he rolled, just avoiding the Chosen’s sword slash.
He rose, but realized that with his lightsaber having been in the water, it was now useless. But the Force was his ally and a powerful ally it was. He sent a wave of Force energy at the Chosen, who was thrown back. The Chosen slipped on the wet ground and fell. He lifted his head and surveyed the area looking for Cazzik. Suddenly he was flattened into the ground, Cazzik’s knee in his back. The warrior responded by lifting up into the air, casting Cazzik off of him. Cazzik had placed his lightsaber in a dry area, and didn’t know when he’d be able to use it again.
Wyn fell but reached out with Force grab. He took a firm hold of the Chosen and pulled him down faster to the ground while trying to avert a plunge of his own. The Chosen warrior pulled out of the fall at the last second by using the Force himself. He reached out and pulled his weapon to him. But it was like a second wind had been breathed into Cazzik. The Jedi master rose and threw all his might into a powerful slamming attack through the Force. The Chosen was thrown back and then through a wall. Cazzik flipped through the air and landed on the ledge above the wall that the Chosen had just broken through. He called his lightsaber and noted that the blue blade did come to life. He also pulled the Chosen’s blade to him, dropped when the warrior had gone through the wall.
The Chosen leapt forward and landed on the opening to the building. He surveyed the area looking for Cazzik. He sensed the Jedi was nearby, but he couldn’t see him. So he leapt forward again.
This time Cazzik moved. His saber was at his waist and with the Chosen’s own blade held high, he moved. He jumped, and angled the blade into the Chosen’s chest. The two of them fell, and Cazzik let his feet hit the ground first, his body having bent backwards. It was only for a second, but he stood hands above his head, holding onto the blade that went backwards and into the Chosen’s chest. It was only for a second, because Cazzik bent, throwing the Chosen over the edge. The Chosen tumbled downwards and out of sight.
Suddenly there was a ground shattering sound and he turned. There was a huge crater in the ground. In the middle of the crater was a Chosen female. He noted with a shock the number of lightsabers clipped to her waist. She lifted her head and smiled as two more Chosen literally fell from the sky. She rose to her full height. Cazzik’s blade lifted from his waist to his hand.
She was the leader. He was convinced. She smiled again before speaking. “I am Shan Tslav. And you are the one who is inconveniencing me the greatest at the moment. But I sense you’re powerful Jedi. May I inquire your name?”
“Cazzik. Cazzik Wyn. Jedi Master Cazzik Wyn.” He said, realizing he’d reiterated himself pretty much three times. He was stalling for time. He was too weak in this state to fight her. He could barely hold his blade up. He saw that she paid particular attention to his blade.
“Interesting.” She gestured to a few of the sabers clipped to her waist. “Many of the owners also claimed to be a ‘master’ in the Jedi organization. Trust me when I say that they were truly only students and have the after life to study your ‘Force’.” Cazzik’s hands tightened around his lightsaber.
“You will pay for the deaths you have caused, Tslav.”
“I’d like to see you make me, ‘Master’ Wyn.” She replied and beckoned him towards her. He charged, knowing it was foolish, but his emotions had taken control of him. Shan moved out of the way and then brought her staff around and into his back. He fell to his knees but turn quickly bringing the saber around. Shan had to move back, and the other two Chosen converged on him.
His mind was calculating how much time, how much energy had gone into killing just one Chosen. And now he had to fight three? He wasn’t sure that he could do it. He regretted many things in that moment, as he wielded his blade. He regretted that he hadn’t been able to be the father than Xanic and Caius had needed. He regretted that he hadn’t been there for Jaina for the better part of her life. Xanic was presumed dead as was Caius. Jaina he was trying to protect the best he could, but what if a Chosen had found her here on the battlefield? He shuddered inwardly. He couldn’t forget the twin’s mother either. Renalla Starrider. He’d let the Dark Side control him, and take over his mind.
Then his mindset changed. No matter how much time it had taken, no matter how much energy he’d spent in destroying that other Chosen, he would live and would be victorious. He had to. Too many people were counting on him. Too many wrongs had to be made right. Cazzik opened himself up to the Force, fully, holding nothing back.
Shan smiled. This was a true Jedi Master, nothing like the others she’d fought before. He knew what he was doing and was moving faster than she’d seen any of these Jedi move before. Hatred turned into a begrudging respect as she bared her blade and her teeth and charged forward, entering the fight.
Cazzik took the new addition in stride, his blade whirling so fast it seemed to not have any beginning nor an ending, simply a tornado, a whirlwind of blue light. He was at the center, strike here and there, never in a moment for more than a few seconds. Ataro blended with Djem So, blended with Juyo, blended with Makashi. Four forms merging together to spell out one word: Destruction.
None of the Chosen were prepared for something like this. The steam rising from the water that fell on the blade alone was something that astounded them. Was he one from the gods? Sent to challenge them and make sure that they put all their effort into their holy task? They didn’t know, and somewhere in the back of two of the Chosen’s minds, they were unsure if they would find out. But not Shan. Tslav knew that even if this Jedi was empowered by the gods, she would still best him. It wasn’t blasphemy, no. It was determination, and knowledge that this day and everyday from its passing til the end of time belonged to the Xen’chi.
So she dove in. Cazzik’s blade nicked her upper shoulder and she felt a bit of her skin ripped of the arm. She drove past the temporary pain. To her, pain was a symbol that we are alive, and Shan Tslav had never felt more alive, knowing that the one before her was a worthy adversary. How long she had been waiting for one like him! The Xen’chi female battled Cazzik, and the two went back and forth for seemingly an eternity. Then a kick to his stomach and a fist to his head. He was dazed. She moved in.
There was a flash of lightning. At least that’s what Cazzik thought it was. No. It was the flash of her blade. He felt as though something was missing and then he looked down. His left hand wasn’t were it was supposed to be. It was on the ground instead of connected to his wrist. He looked up at the warrior woman before him in confusion as he sank to his knees, other hand grabbing the bleeding stump in pain.
Shan reached down and picked up his lightsaber. She had taken his hand and his honor. She would not take his lightsaber. Tslav clipped it to his waist and reached out, skimming over his face with her hand, in a gesture that one could, having not previously seen the fight between the two, call an almost loving touch.
Suddenly she looked upwards as though something horrific had happened up in the sky. The calls for retreat began to sound from her side, and she knew what had happened. A New Republic fleet had arrived in system. Isl’kon, with a proper fleet, could have reduced it to slag, but the fleet that he’d been given and tasked to sack the City of the Jedi with was a more ground battle oriented one, and while it had firepower to deal with enemy ships, the sheer number of New Republic ships that had arrived made it dangerous to do so.
She looked down now. “You have fought well, Master Wyn. I will not take your life, for you have earned it, redeeming yourself. But this will not be the last time we met. Remember my name and my face.” The master was in a daze and to reinforce her words, she leaned down and kissed him. She pulled back, a smirk on her face, before she brought her stave around and knocked him unconscious. Turning, she left with the other two Chosen who had come with her, heading swiftly and unchallenged to an extraction zone.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Yes, Isl’kon would have wanted to fight the New Republic to the last, but his orders had been clear. If an enemy decided to showed up, he was to retreat. Either way, he was happy how the battle had turned out. The Chosen had revealed themselves. They’d conducted a battle of shock and awe, decimating both the Taylon army and the Jedi Order. The battle’s repercussions would be many and the subject of much debate in the military high ups of all three major players in this war, if not in all of them.
The Chosen had come. The question was: What in the Force’s name was the galaxy going to do about it?
The lightsaber that was in his hand exploded as energy coursed through it. The result was a red blade that shot up through the air. He put it to use cutting a circle through the door. The metal fell out and he saw the stars and blackness of space move farther and farther away from him as the ship moved back and down in the hangar. He leapt out from the ship, blade in front of him. He turned the leap into a somersault and landed on his feet, back to the fight, something that he corrected shortly afterwards.
Beorht meanwhile saw the distraction as something that could help save them. He saw through the Force that the ship’s missile bays were full. He realized as he dodged a laser blast, that the Xen’chi would soon be calling for reinforcements. Indeed, many of the Xen’chi were looking for cover and a space to regroup behind as Iara was dealing death in droves. He needed to find a way to get them out of here, though there was only one door out of the hangar. There were no other ships in the hangar. And then it hit him. This was a hangar. He didn’t know the layout of Xen’chi ships, but this was a rather small hangar. The chances of there being another hangar on the other side of one of the walls here was a great one.
A plan quickly formulated in his mind. He reached out through the Force and grabbed the missile that was loaded in each of the two launchers and pulled them out. He flung the first at the closest but also the largest collection of Xen’chi warriors Because the missile was not actually ignited, the damage it cause was even more as the fuel was able to explode as well. Lyn hurled the other missile at the door to the hangar, which was just opening. He could see a few Xen’chi just waiting to bust through, but they would have to wait as the missile hit the door, the warhead detonating.
He saw metal chunks rain down the ceiling and smiled, knowing that the blockade had been set up and would probably be very useful. Suddenly he felt a surge in the Force, like a dark spike being wedged into a gaping wound. He could only wonder what it was, as the rest of his concentration was used up in getting to his wife and telling her of his plan.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A dark spike, a srraka blade, reentered a wound which it had just created. The Jedi Knight in question screamed in pain as the blade was turned in the wound. Shan Tslav leaned forward and sank her teeth into the man’s neck, only temporarily satiating a quite literal bloodlust. She pulled the blade out and let go of her prey. She turned to his padawan, a scared young woman of perhaps eight or nine standard years.
The young girl stared at the female Xen’chi Chosen. To put it more correctly, she stared at the blood that dripped from the jaw and that had colored her master’s killer stark red. Her brows dipped as she concentrated, lifting her lightsaber up. Suddenly the green blade flickered and disappeared. She looked down and saw smoke wafting upwards. The Xen’chi woman had sliced the top part of her saber off. The padawan looked up.
Shan had already slid her srraka blade back and now leapt forward, fingers outstretched. Hardened nails dug into the young girl’s chest and blood slowly began to leak from them. Tslav didn’t notice, she was already using the momentum from her leap to good use. She pushed the girl down and brought her feet up and into the girl’s chest as well. Pulling her nails out of the newly created wounds, she pushed off with her feet, casting the now dead padawan to the ground.
She landed on the ground and picked up her stave which she’d discarded some time ago. The Chosen moved over the battlefield quickly, avoiding blaster and plasma fire. The Xen’chi were pushing the Jedi back, slowly but surely. The softening up that the Thralls and then the ground soldiers had accomplished was now being exploited. The weakening Jedi were forced to give up ground at every step.
Tslav attributed this to the gods. The Chosen’s fighting style was one that the Jedi had never seen before. Their mindset was ones that the Jedi could not decipher. Their weapons were ones that the Jedi could not counter. She intended to slaughter as many before they could think of a possible solution to any of the three.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Tilsoric Kur poured plasma fire towards a Taylon squad. His Chosen brethren had joined the fight and he was even more certain that the flag that would fly over the City of the Jedi at the end of the day would be that of the Xen’chi Dominion. He would be alive to spit yet again on the bloody and torn rag that would be the Taylon flag. He watched as another of the soldiers fell and then a shadow fell across them. He didn’t spare a glance up, but watched as they did. The fear on their face told him enough.
A Chosen female dropped from the sky, swinging chains of the same black material used in the srraka blades. Attached to the ends of the chains were many more smaller chains and at the tips of those chains were thin but sharp spikes. The first soldier that was hit by the chains was thrown towards Kur. He stopped firing and flattened himself against the wall he was standing next to. He saw the body as it sailed past, only eight inches or so from himself. The helmet was shattered, and multiple long gashes could be seen in the soldier’s face, blood leaking from them all. Tilsoric smiled.
He turned back to see the Chosen expertly swinging the chains, moving her whole body as they did. Twists, jumps, cartwheels, turns, everything. To the Xen’chi warrior it was a seductive dance, and everything that came in contact with those chains wasn’t left the same. Tilsoric saw the Chosen’s arm lash out, and the weapon wrapped around her right hand became an extension of her body, the spikes moving outwards and into the back of one soldier. The man screamed, as he dropped his gun, arms wrenched outwards. The Chosen pulled him back, and turned, using the body as a weapon against an incoming squad.
They stopped to catch their comrade, and Kur took this time to help his brethren. He took careful aim and depressed the trigger of his gun. White plasma bolts escaped the barrel with a whine, aimed and less than a second later entering the squad’s formation. Chosen and Warrior fought together and a simple squad of soldiers could not stand up to the two sided assault. Tilsoric, after what only seemed like a few moments, stopped firing and turned to the Chosen female before him. He knelt in her presence.
He had only seen the Temple of the Chosen at Ka’sra once, and like all Xen’chi, he respected the Chosen not only for their skills in combat, but for their impact in the Xen’chi’s religious beliefs. Tilsoric took it a step further, a personal reverence for all the Chosen. He watched as the chains twirled in the air, wrapping themselves around her lithe and nubile body. Red blood dripped off the tips, leaving dots on the ground in a trail as she walked towards him. She was above the warrior and she knew it. “What is your name, Warrior?”
“My name is Tilsoric Kur, Chosen. And I would be your humble servant.” He replied quickly, his eyes locked with hers. She nodded slowly. He noted the tattoos that covered her body. He wanted to mate with her, and both of them knew it. She didn’t need her Force skills to tell, and he didn’t need the stirring in his loins either.
“A humble servant indeed. One finger touched his cheek, and she gently wiped off a fleck of blood from a previous kill. She brought the finger to her mouth and slid it in, closing her lips. She dragged the finger out slowly before speaking again. “My name is Vashna, and my servant you are, but only if you survive this battle, Tilsoric Kur. Don’t fail me. Don’t fail the Xa’tieron. Don’t fail the gods.” Suddenly she was gone. He looked up and saw that she was airborne, looking for a new area to pounce upon. He rose, his resolve even firmer.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jedi Master Cazzik Wyn, recently resurrected from the land of the deceased, leaned against the stone wall, taking a deep breath. The Chosen had come, the darkness revealing itself. He let the breath out and took another like it. The Jedi Master’s senses screamed. He rose and spun his blade, cleaving the arm off of a Xen’chi soldier that was running past his position. He ducked back behind his cover. There were a few padawans behind the stone wall near him. They had all lost their masters, and he’d brought them here as he found them.
One of them came up to him and he looked at the young child, easily only seven years old. “What are we going to do, Master Wyn? There’s too many of them.” He smiled and reached out a dirt encrusted hand to comfort the scared padawan. He felt sorry for the child who was being exposed to something that no child, regardless of Force sensitivity should see.
“We are going to put our trust in the Force. It hasn’t failed me in all my years, and I know it won’t fail us now.” He was waiting for a Knight to come and stand watch over them so that Wyn could go back into the field and give his tiring strength to the fight. Wave after wave of soldiers had come at him, and he’d battered them back time and time again. But the Chosen were something else. Reports from the frontier parts of the battlefield…what little snippets of reports were received before the Chosen killed the soldiers making the reports, told a frightful tale of death and destruction being wrought through the Taylon and Jedi ranks.
What shocked Cazzik to the core was not only the ferocity of the warriors, as that would be expected of their foe, but of the darkness in their hearts. It was literally a physical battle of what would normally be considered a spiritual battle. Here on Taylon, the war was not just Chosen versus Jedi, Xen’chi versus the free peoples of the galaxy. It transcended the smaller players. It was the light side versus the dark side, the two sides of the Force pitting themselves against each other in a showdown that, in the end, would only cause more spirits to reside in the underworlds of the galaxy’s religions.
Cazzik looked up as the Jedi Knight he’d called for arrived. He nodded once and after bidding the padawans a good bye, jumped the stone wall. The time he’d had behind the wall with the padawans had given him a chance to rest. Now he was looking for Xen’chi. He didn’t have to look far he found. He spun, and twirled his blue saber, slicing off the barrel of one enemy warrior’s gun. He continued walking past the warrior, blade lunging out. It would be considered blindly to some and the result would be considered lucky to others, but not to a Jedi like Wyn. The blade slid into the warrior’s chest, as he’d turned around to try to attack Wyn.
Cazzik pulled the blade out and lifted it, blocking a blaster bolt and sending it back to its owner. He looked around and then down, off of the level that he was on. He saw an area that needed assistance. So the Jedi Master was in the air, using the Force to amplify his jump. He landed with a thud, cracking the ground upon which he fell upon. He looked up and smiled. His saber had traveled down with him, blade extended. The last meter and a half, it had cut through a Xen’chi warrior’s head. Wyn dashed through the two halves of a body as they fell, each to their own side.
His run was cut short, as he lurched to a stop. There was a weirdly tattooed half dressed man standing before him. Cazzik’s blade shifted from right to left and he couldn’t help but notice the sweaty palms that he’d developed. The Xen’chi before him smiled, almost sensing the fear. This was a Chosen. Cazzik could feel the dark side emanating from him. He couldn’t stop the fear, that would be foolishness. But he could defeat the fear, rise above the fear, and be a beacon of the light to those around him. He could show them that this Chosen warrior, he was nothing, just like the rest of the jedi killers. They could and would be defeated. He lifted his blade and moved in to strike.
Starting now.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Lyn-Char Beorht grimaced. Mikael had just informed him that of the two shuttles in the hangar that they were in, one was unlocked and but had no fuel. That was the good news. The bad news was that the ship’s controls were all in the Xen’chi’s native language, of which Lyn knew nothing of. Neither did Mikael who sat behind the controls, nor Iara who stood by the shuttle’s door. Lyn stood on guard, expecting a Xen’chi warrior to pop out of the floor and attack him.
He fingered the grenades he had with him. He’d been forced to use one already, and his bag of tricks was still healthy. But he didn’t know how long that would last, if they couldn’t get this ship up and running. As if to question it, the door to the hangar began to shake. Iara and he had placed a few crates in front of it and had pressed random numbers on the keypad, forcing it to lock down. Apparently the Xen’chi were about to get past the hastily prepared defense.
Lyn looked at his wife. “Here they come.” She nodded, silent.
The door slid sideways and there was nothing to be seen in the darkened hallway. Suddenly the crates exploded, having been subjected to a short torrent of white plasma. Xen’chi soldiers began to pour through the door. Beorht’s blue saber and Iara’s purple saber, which had been able to take a break from moving and cutting through enemy bodies and weapons were now back on the move. Their break was over, and their position assault.
Iara leapt into the air, moving her blade in a long arc downwards. She sliced through one foe and then another. She reached the ground and turned the jump into a roll. She came up at her husband’s feet. Beorht spared her a moment’s notice before turned to dispatch a warrior with a force push. The warrior had been trying to set up for a distance shot, and the Force push had crushed his arm.
Lyn was about to turn to one on his right, when he saw another Xen’chi warrior run up and shoot the distance shooter in the head. They would kill their wounded? But why? He didn’t understand. The wounded could be rehabilitated. Why did the Xen’chi kill their own wounded? He didn’t have any time to dote on the quandary, as the plasma fire in the hangar was beginning to increase. He spun in the air, blade blocking incoming plasma shots and redirecting the blasts back at the shooters.
Iara turned and then saw a blur of motion upwards. The Twi’lek’s eyes lifted upwards. The blur was there, moving too and fro, apparently trying to get the drop on Lyn. She lifted up into the air, to attack the…well she didn’t know what it was, but she did know that she was going to protect her husband. The blur dropped from the sky at a speed which to Iara was incredible. It hit her in the chest and she dropped from the sky. Lyn reached out and caught his wife through the Force, setting her on her feet.
She nodded her thanks and the two stood back to back, fighting the Xen’chi soldiers. Lyn saw the blur that Iara had been looking at. It was now joined by three blurs. The blurs slowed, and distinguishing features could be seen. Droids. Three of them. If he had to guess, they had been made by GAIT. Personal assassins? Did that mean that GAIT itself was here? Lyn hadn’t felt anything out of the ordinary, but perhaps in addition to the darkness of the Chosen on the ground below, GAIT was there, masking itself.
Either way, Beorht brought his saber up as the enemy warriors backed off allowing the three droids to slowly move forward. Iara could only hope that Mikael could get the shuttle up and running soon. She turned and Force pushed a Xen’chi warrior, throwing him towards the ground.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cazzik Wyn was thrown back, and landed on the ground. His back groaned in pain, but he moved past it, lifting his saber up to guard from any further attacks. The Chosen warrior merely stood there waiting for him to get up. Wyn did, and wiped his mouth, finding blood flowing from a cut. He grimaced, just thinking of the bacta that it would take to heal the wounded from the battle today. The Jedi Master rose to his full height and no sooner had he done this, did the Chosen rush forward, weapon held high. Cazzik mirrored his move and the two ran past each other, each bringing their weapon down as they did.
The two swords clashed, and Cazzik knew he was able to add to the short list of materials and weapons that could stop a lightsaber blade. He’d done that when he’d first tried to strike the Chosen but every time they clashed he was reminded by it. Cazzik pulled his blade back and lunged, trying a Makashi stab. The warrior batted the saber away, his face showing an intense sense of disapproval over Cazzik’s choice of attack. Wyn didn’t know what this meant, but he tried a different approach.
His opponent merely shifted his legs and deflected the attack. It had gone on like this for some time before Wyn had been thrown, and he didn’t see how to get past the Chosen’s guard. Both blades were roughly the same length, so neither had an advantage there. Cazzik went for the legs and his opponent moved to block. Then Cazzik instead of following through with the slice dragged his blade upwards. The chosen had to take a step back to enforce his block. It apparently felt that Wyn had used up enough time on the offensive, and now it drove forward, with ferocious blows. Cazzik kept up his defense, searching for an opening that failed to present itself.
They moved this way and that in a careful dance almost. Blade touched blade, the noise resounding above the rest of the sounds of the battlefield, at least to their own ears. Eyes locked with eyes, each at least respectful of the other’s prowess with a blade. The Chosen moved forward, going for Cazzik’s arm. The Jedi lifted his right arm and then tried to stab, his arm twisting at an odd angle. The Chosen let his back fall and Cazzik use the advantage, his other hand coming out and using Force Push.
The Chosen was slammed into the ground, and he howled in pain. But a second later, he was back on his feet, blade coming in for Cazzik’s mid section. Cazzik lifted up into the air, jumping over the Chosen. He landed a few feet away and turned. As he did, the Force alerted him to the Chosen’s move. He let his blade become perpendicular to the ground, to block the Chosen’s attack. Cazzik pulled the blade back quickly and swung it around coming around on the other side of the Chosen and at his neck. The Chosen dropped down like he had before, but this time was waiting for Cazzik to try the same trick again. Both used Force Push at the same time.
There was a moment where nothing happened, both of their willpowers in direct contest. And then it broke. The Chosen was thrown to the ground, and Cazzik was thrown into the air. The warrior used the momentum to pull off a backwards barrel roll, and he started running towards Cazzik. The Jedi master executed a perfect landing and held his blade at the ready. He was tiring, which wasn’t a surprise. He’d already had to fight the Thrall soldiers and then the Xen’chi foot soldiers. While they weren’t nearly on his level, the sheer number of them had slowly worn him down, and the Jedi had needed that reprieve with the padawans.
Now, he felt what energy he’d stored up during that break slowly leave him. His blade angled and blocked an incoming attack. It would only be a matter of time.
A matter of time before he fell.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Beorht fell to one knee, teeth clenched. The droids were fighting well, too well. He didn’t know how long that they’d be able to keep this up. His defenses kept getting overwhelmed. The speed and ferocity of these droids was insane. He didn’t know how to counter their attacks and found himself beaten back at every step. From what he could see, Iara faced the same problem.
Lyn leapt up into the air, and the droid did as well. The droids wielded lightsabers to and they clashed in the air as the two combatants fell to the ground. Lyn rolled on the ground and onto one knee, and blocked an attack that would have otherwise cut his neck off. He brought his hand up and sent a wave of force energy towards the droid. It responded by moving faster than he could blink to the left.
It would have reminded someone of stories of General Grievous’ “debut” at the battle of Hypori. The droids moved so fast, that Iara could barely describe them. She just knew she had to stop them somehow. “Mikael, how is the ship coming?” She called out, as she moved towards the shuttle while the droid that was attacking her chased her.
“I almost got it, master.” Her apprentice called out. She could have sworn she saw the running lights on the ship turn on, but she didn’t have time, as she was rolling to avoid the droid’s blue lightsaber. Her purple one locked into contest with its blue blade when she came up.
“Hurry, Mikael. We don’t have much time.”
“I’m trying Master. It’s very hard, I don’t think you know how hard.” Iara would have laughed if she could have. She looked over to her husband who was doing alright against his two droids. “I have the ship ready!” The two of them heard Mikael’s voice call out into the hangar, and he appeared at the ramp shortly after. They instinctively vaulted over to the lowered boarding ramp. Beorht grabbed Iara’s arm as the droids advanced.
“Iara, take Mikael and leave, now.” She looked at the droids like he’d just said he was going to take the one on the right. Then the full weight of what he’d said hit her.
“But…I can’t…I can’t just leave you. You just remembered we’re married, and Alu and…”
“You have to, Iara. If you stay, we all will die.” Beorht looked like a man that had accepted his fate. She looked into his eyes and then they kissed. Tears were in her eyes as she allowed Beorht to push her onto the ramp. “Pull the ramp up Mikael, and Mikael-” He said, getting his wife’s apprentice’s attention. “Take care of Iara for me.” Iara looked out the ramp and watched her husband turned to face his death. When the ramp had closed she turned and ran to the cockpit, Mikael following her quickly.
“Get us out of her now. Just go.” Mikael didn’t have to be told twice. Though he disliked the Zeltron with an extreme passion, his master’s husband did have his admiration and respect in the end. He threw the ship forward and it lurched out and into space. Beorht had told him to take care of Iara. From now on, that’s what he was going to do.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A stoic Jedi Knight Lyn-Char Beorht stood before the three GAIT droids as they spread out. He was going to die in this hangar, on this Hetch’chek cruiser and he knew it. But he was going to take these droids with them. There was a trace of sadness at his inability to give his wife a proper goodbye and to make the real goodbyes that he owed to Ember, Ashin, his child Alu, and the many more lives that had touched his own. He sighed and flicked his saber upwards.
The lead droid stopped its movements as its voice box activated. “Your dedication to the preservation of the other two organics is admirable, Jedi, but it will do you no good. They will die, eventually, and your sacrifice will have been in vain.”
“No one knows the future. But I know this: If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can imagine.” The droid was silent.
“Your Force does not affect the equation as easily as you think, Jedi.” The lightsabers of the three droids came up in almost a salute. Beorht flicked his up as well, before moving towards the lead droid, blade angling in for a stab. The droid managed to stop the attack, but Beorht was already moving. It was as if in his mind, the longer he held out against these droids the better his wife and her apprentice’s chances of escape were. The truth was far from that, but to a man knowing that he was going to die, it was something to latch onto, something to drive forward with.
The droids were prepared, had been prepared for the Jedi. But they were not prepared for a Jedi like Lyn-Char Beorht. The Zeltron moved here and there, faster than he had before. Their algorithms computed and could not understand the sudden burst of energy and speed. The lead droid’s statement was being proved wrong. The Force did affect the equation. The Zeltron’s already reddish skin shone with brilliance as he let more and more the Force flow through him. His moves became effortless almost, and he felt a sense of detachment from it all, as though he was floating in the room watching the fight unfold.
He watched all four blades interlock and a wave of force energy knocking the three droids back. They had been unable to dodge with their sabers locked and they rose in unison and came at Beorht. He watched himself move, spinning and kicking. He felt a sharp pain in his stomach, and then his chest. Then his stomach again and then his head. But he thought nothing of it, marveling at the fight below. The droids were beginning to tire, if such a thing was possible or made sense. Or maybe it was him who kept increasing his speed. At this point he couldn’t really tell.
There was a sudden shower of sparks. Beorht watched himself slice through the arm of one of the GAIT droids. The lead droid in fact. He smiled to himself and watched him finish destroying the lead droid. Iara and Mikael were going to escape, he was sure of it. Ember and Ashin would be alright. Thormatar, Halja, and the rest of the Jade Worlds…they were going to survive all of this. He watched, smile still on his face as the other two droids moved in for the kill.
One lightsaber blade slid into his stomach, while another slid through his back and up through his chest. The two blades were retracted and then he was stabbed again, once more in the stomach, and then through the head. A hole appeared in his body’s head. It was then that he realized that he had been watching everything at such a slow speed, for the combatants had been moving faster than the eye could see. He looked down and saw the three holes in his body. His fingers inched upwards to his forehead.
Oblivion
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jedi Master Cazzik Wyn felt the sharp stab of pain somewhere deep in his conscious. Up in space, someone had died. Someone powerful. A Jedi Master. It was sharp, driving past the aching muscles of his own body, replacing every sound he heard, with a cry. He felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if a single voice suddenly cried out in terror and was suddenly silenced. The man rose in the air, spinning his blade. He brought it down on the blade of the Chosen, and twisted, turning the move into a kick into the chest of the Chosen.
The Xen’chi stumbled back but quickly regained his footing. It was his footing that had kept throwing Cazzik off. The Xen’chi used a style he’d never seen before, and was exploiting this fact. Cazzik was reminded of this as the rest of the battlefield ambience and his own status came rushing back to him. He was bleeding from his left upper arm where the Chosen’s blade had sliced off a good portion of his skin. He’d picked up other nicks and scratches during the course of the fight.
Cazzik spun low to the ground as the Chosen came at him. His foe responded by leaping into the air, over Cazzik’s head. Cazzik tried to continue the spin and swing upwards, but his foe managed to evade the strike. The Jedi master was beginning to run out of tricks to use, something that was considerably hard to do considering how well he knew how to wield a blade.
He felt another stabbing pain, but this one was near him. Who had- he was interrupted by the weapon of his foe coming at him.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Shan slid her blade out of a Rodian Jedi’s chest. She reached down and hefted the double bladed lightsaber that he’d wielded. She clipped the lightsaber to her waist. The Rodian’s name was Bishhk and he had stated that he was going to stop her. Turns out he’d been wrong. Tslav smirked as she continued walking through the battlefield. Her mind shifted through those of the Xen’chi. She was searching for the place and the warrior that was causing her troops the greatest difficulty at the moment.
She found it. A human was causing the problem. She was already running towards his position, weapons at the ready. The human in question came into view. She saw that he wielded two lightsabers, one blue, and one red. She kept running blade out. The Jedi master turned from the chosen he was fighting and brought the blue blade up to defend himself. Shan just dropped to the ground, sliding on the ground and into his legs. He fell and she moved quickly. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she let her feet hook around his thighs, rendering his lower body useless to him. He was on top of her, and she couldn’t effectively deal with his upper body.
The Chosen male who had been fighting the man did that for her. Because the Jedi was so preoccupied with what the new Chosen was doing to him, he failed to see what the former was doing till it was too late. Both of his hands were felled slightly below the wrist. The Jedi howled in pain, a pain increased as Shan sank her teeth into his neck. His eyes were wide open, as the Chosen above him sank his blade into the man’s forehead.
The Chosen pulled his blade out as the Jedi went limp. Shan rolled him off of her. She tossed one of the blades to the Chosen, keeping the red one for herself. They did share the kill. She turned to the Chosen male now. “You will come with me, and add our brethren where I chose. Understood.” He nodded, knowing to keep quiet in the presence of Tslav. She closed her eyes and searched for the next one who was making a problem for her troops.
A few seconds later she opened her eyes and turned to the other. “Come.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Yalah Nyn spun low and cleaved through the legs of a Xen’chi warrior. She used Force Push to throw him towards one of his comrades. She turned and saw two Chosen coming towards her and turned to face them, content that the Taylon soldiers with her would be able to deal with the rest of the Xen’chi soldiers. She lifted her blue blade. The Twi’lek dug her feet in prepared to fight these two Chosen as it started to rain, thick heavy drops.
Shan went aerial while the other Chosen with her stayed on the ground. They rushed towards to the Twi’lek. Nyn jumped, to strike at Tslav first. The two blades clashed in the air, and the two combatants flew apart at the force of the connection. Shan turned the fall back to the ground into a flip and landed on her feet. Nyn wasn’t concerned with theatrics, knowing that she would need to keep all her wits about her. The male Chosen rushed at her as soon as she was on the ground.
Lightsaber struck black blade. Nyn brought the blade around hard. She was trying to batter her opponent into submission, knowing that if she tarried, the Chosen would gain the upper hand eventually. The male Chosen let her think she was getting through his defenses. He allowed the illusion to be maintained as long as he needed it to. Then he went in for the kill.
His blade knocked hers away and before she could react, he threw himself into a lunge. His sword sunk into her chest. A shocked look came over her face. Shan decided that so far, this alien woman was the only one to have fought with a bit of skill and though she was a foe and a Jedi, she was going to give her an honorable death. That meant Nyn’s head was rolling on the ground a few moments later.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cazzik lifted his lightsaber blade, trying to get his balance. The Chosen had sent him flying into the wall of a building. He was now on all fours and struggling to get up. The Chosen slid along the ground, almost floating on the water. Cazzik loosely swung the blade and collapsed into the water, blade extinguishing. He was tired. Too tired. He was screamed at through the Force and he rolled, just avoiding the Chosen’s sword slash.
He rose, but realized that with his lightsaber having been in the water, it was now useless. But the Force was his ally and a powerful ally it was. He sent a wave of Force energy at the Chosen, who was thrown back. The Chosen slipped on the wet ground and fell. He lifted his head and surveyed the area looking for Cazzik. Suddenly he was flattened into the ground, Cazzik’s knee in his back. The warrior responded by lifting up into the air, casting Cazzik off of him. Cazzik had placed his lightsaber in a dry area, and didn’t know when he’d be able to use it again.
Wyn fell but reached out with Force grab. He took a firm hold of the Chosen and pulled him down faster to the ground while trying to avert a plunge of his own. The Chosen warrior pulled out of the fall at the last second by using the Force himself. He reached out and pulled his weapon to him. But it was like a second wind had been breathed into Cazzik. The Jedi master rose and threw all his might into a powerful slamming attack through the Force. The Chosen was thrown back and then through a wall. Cazzik flipped through the air and landed on the ledge above the wall that the Chosen had just broken through. He called his lightsaber and noted that the blue blade did come to life. He also pulled the Chosen’s blade to him, dropped when the warrior had gone through the wall.
The Chosen leapt forward and landed on the opening to the building. He surveyed the area looking for Cazzik. He sensed the Jedi was nearby, but he couldn’t see him. So he leapt forward again.
This time Cazzik moved. His saber was at his waist and with the Chosen’s own blade held high, he moved. He jumped, and angled the blade into the Chosen’s chest. The two of them fell, and Cazzik let his feet hit the ground first, his body having bent backwards. It was only for a second, but he stood hands above his head, holding onto the blade that went backwards and into the Chosen’s chest. It was only for a second, because Cazzik bent, throwing the Chosen over the edge. The Chosen tumbled downwards and out of sight.
Suddenly there was a ground shattering sound and he turned. There was a huge crater in the ground. In the middle of the crater was a Chosen female. He noted with a shock the number of lightsabers clipped to her waist. She lifted her head and smiled as two more Chosen literally fell from the sky. She rose to her full height. Cazzik’s blade lifted from his waist to his hand.
She was the leader. He was convinced. She smiled again before speaking. “I am Shan Tslav. And you are the one who is inconveniencing me the greatest at the moment. But I sense you’re powerful Jedi. May I inquire your name?”
“Cazzik. Cazzik Wyn. Jedi Master Cazzik Wyn.” He said, realizing he’d reiterated himself pretty much three times. He was stalling for time. He was too weak in this state to fight her. He could barely hold his blade up. He saw that she paid particular attention to his blade.
“Interesting.” She gestured to a few of the sabers clipped to her waist. “Many of the owners also claimed to be a ‘master’ in the Jedi organization. Trust me when I say that they were truly only students and have the after life to study your ‘Force’.” Cazzik’s hands tightened around his lightsaber.
“You will pay for the deaths you have caused, Tslav.”
“I’d like to see you make me, ‘Master’ Wyn.” She replied and beckoned him towards her. He charged, knowing it was foolish, but his emotions had taken control of him. Shan moved out of the way and then brought her staff around and into his back. He fell to his knees but turn quickly bringing the saber around. Shan had to move back, and the other two Chosen converged on him.
His mind was calculating how much time, how much energy had gone into killing just one Chosen. And now he had to fight three? He wasn’t sure that he could do it. He regretted many things in that moment, as he wielded his blade. He regretted that he hadn’t been able to be the father than Xanic and Caius had needed. He regretted that he hadn’t been there for Jaina for the better part of her life. Xanic was presumed dead as was Caius. Jaina he was trying to protect the best he could, but what if a Chosen had found her here on the battlefield? He shuddered inwardly. He couldn’t forget the twin’s mother either. Renalla Starrider. He’d let the Dark Side control him, and take over his mind.
Then his mindset changed. No matter how much time it had taken, no matter how much energy he’d spent in destroying that other Chosen, he would live and would be victorious. He had to. Too many people were counting on him. Too many wrongs had to be made right. Cazzik opened himself up to the Force, fully, holding nothing back.
Shan smiled. This was a true Jedi Master, nothing like the others she’d fought before. He knew what he was doing and was moving faster than she’d seen any of these Jedi move before. Hatred turned into a begrudging respect as she bared her blade and her teeth and charged forward, entering the fight.
Cazzik took the new addition in stride, his blade whirling so fast it seemed to not have any beginning nor an ending, simply a tornado, a whirlwind of blue light. He was at the center, strike here and there, never in a moment for more than a few seconds. Ataro blended with Djem So, blended with Juyo, blended with Makashi. Four forms merging together to spell out one word: Destruction.
None of the Chosen were prepared for something like this. The steam rising from the water that fell on the blade alone was something that astounded them. Was he one from the gods? Sent to challenge them and make sure that they put all their effort into their holy task? They didn’t know, and somewhere in the back of two of the Chosen’s minds, they were unsure if they would find out. But not Shan. Tslav knew that even if this Jedi was empowered by the gods, she would still best him. It wasn’t blasphemy, no. It was determination, and knowledge that this day and everyday from its passing til the end of time belonged to the Xen’chi.
So she dove in. Cazzik’s blade nicked her upper shoulder and she felt a bit of her skin ripped of the arm. She drove past the temporary pain. To her, pain was a symbol that we are alive, and Shan Tslav had never felt more alive, knowing that the one before her was a worthy adversary. How long she had been waiting for one like him! The Xen’chi female battled Cazzik, and the two went back and forth for seemingly an eternity. Then a kick to his stomach and a fist to his head. He was dazed. She moved in.
There was a flash of lightning. At least that’s what Cazzik thought it was. No. It was the flash of her blade. He felt as though something was missing and then he looked down. His left hand wasn’t were it was supposed to be. It was on the ground instead of connected to his wrist. He looked up at the warrior woman before him in confusion as he sank to his knees, other hand grabbing the bleeding stump in pain.
Shan reached down and picked up his lightsaber. She had taken his hand and his honor. She would not take his lightsaber. Tslav clipped it to his waist and reached out, skimming over his face with her hand, in a gesture that one could, having not previously seen the fight between the two, call an almost loving touch.
Suddenly she looked upwards as though something horrific had happened up in the sky. The calls for retreat began to sound from her side, and she knew what had happened. A New Republic fleet had arrived in system. Isl’kon, with a proper fleet, could have reduced it to slag, but the fleet that he’d been given and tasked to sack the City of the Jedi with was a more ground battle oriented one, and while it had firepower to deal with enemy ships, the sheer number of New Republic ships that had arrived made it dangerous to do so.
She looked down now. “You have fought well, Master Wyn. I will not take your life, for you have earned it, redeeming yourself. But this will not be the last time we met. Remember my name and my face.” The master was in a daze and to reinforce her words, she leaned down and kissed him. She pulled back, a smirk on her face, before she brought her stave around and knocked him unconscious. Turning, she left with the other two Chosen who had come with her, heading swiftly and unchallenged to an extraction zone.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Yes, Isl’kon would have wanted to fight the New Republic to the last, but his orders had been clear. If an enemy decided to showed up, he was to retreat. Either way, he was happy how the battle had turned out. The Chosen had revealed themselves. They’d conducted a battle of shock and awe, decimating both the Taylon army and the Jedi Order. The battle’s repercussions would be many and the subject of much debate in the military high ups of all three major players in this war, if not in all of them.
The Chosen had come. The question was: What in the Force’s name was the galaxy going to do about it?
Everyone knows "Pops and Junior = #Ratings"
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
#Valkob4Life
Everyone knows "Cazzik and Mir = #Wynning"
#Valkob4Life
Dark Lord of the Grill
Posts: 1916
Joined: Fri Jan 23, 2004 8:41 am
Joined: Fri Jan 23, 2004 8:41 am
Location: Searching for a nursing home for Nichalus
OOC: Wow! Mir, hats off to you. I enjoyed that post more than I've ever enjoyed any other. And thank you for portraying Cazzik in such a heroic fashion.
To all, the City of the Jedi will now continue on this thread:
http://www.starwarsexodus.com/forum/vie ... php?t=7168
To all, the City of the Jedi will now continue on this thread:
http://www.starwarsexodus.com/forum/vie ... php?t=7168
"I'd like to nominate Cazzik for the Sexiest Man on Earth 2010." --Balsa
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