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Citadel
Apr 9, 2013 10:52:40 GMT -8
Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Apr 9, 2013 10:52:40 GMT -8
The Rhen Var Citadel was an ancient structure that included a large courtyard at the base of a four-story tower, an ancient crypt, and a domed observatory.
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dyvius
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Citadel
Oct 14, 2013 20:58:35 GMT -8
Post by dyvius on Oct 14, 2013 20:58:35 GMT -8
The slim silver Aka'jor Shuttle found its way to the snow-covered flat area before the massive black structure that was the Citadel. Sheer cliffs, coated in ice, rose up to the level of the Citadel's highest levels with three canyon entrances spaced roughly evenly around the circular area. From battles far in the past wreckage stuck out of the snow and reminded the Aka'jor's pilot that Rhen Var had not been completely untouched since the old times where the Jedi had left these ancient monuments behind. The Clone Wars had given Rhen Var its largest role in galactic history in many centuries, and the extremely protracted campaign between the Old Republic and the Separatists left the Citadel nearly defiled by the Dark side but protected by the Jedi and specifically the lauded Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. What was known about this once forgotten citadel was that it held many ancient tombs of Jedi Masters from a time before time, among them the spirit of Ulic Qel'Droma. There were many more hidden deep within areas that the Jedi did not deign to explore at the time, nor ever got the chance to considering the end of the Clone Wars was the extermination of the Jedi Order. The reborn order, under the direction of Luke Skywalker, had not any knowledge that Rhen Var existed since the archives' little mention of Rhen Var was one of the easiest eradicated topics. So even at the current time secrets remained deep within not only the citadel but presumably the whole of Rhen Var as well.
The Aka'jor landed quietly on the snowpack with a hiss of pneumatics and the pinging of hot metal in the absolutely frigid atmosphere. The pilot, now standing at the rear of the ship where the hatch would open and a ramp would lower to admit him to the deadly atmosphere, in terms of temperature at any rate. His clothing was changed from what it initially had been, as the Togruta Jedi considered that while using Tapas would potentially grow wearisome if the time outside of the ship extended for a longer period than intended and he needed all of his power and wits about him in this harsh climate, whether or not there were other threats besides the climate. Besides the thick thermal undergarments and the mid-layer of his long-sleeved tunic and pants, Dyvius wore a heavy cloak that fastened with an inner lining at his wrists and ankles and bore a thick hood that was fitted for his montrals and lekku both as well as fastened tight at the neck. Heavy black combat boots trod down the ramp as Dyvius adjusted the round explorer goggles on his face. Next he adjusted the face wrap that kept all but the barest patch of red skin on his forehead uncovered, but even the hood fell over that. (For visual reference, imagine Shino if his clothing was adapted for cold tundra). His usual leather straps that constituted partial gloves were still in place, but thin gloves were also covering the whole of his hands.
As Dyvius touched down on the snow, he heard a whiny tweedle from his astromech back in the starship. Dyvius smiled under his wrap, calling back, "Yeah, close her up, Sixer. I know how much you hate the cold. And keep power usage to an absolute minimum, use the heating as you need it, but don't power up any defensive mechanisms or move the ship unless something tries to force entry."
Another series of noises came from the starship's interior. Dyvius shook his head, "Yes, I do want to go through with this. I'll be fine, I promise."
With that, he began walking off into the deep snow, in the direction of the huge ramp leading up to the citadel. On his outer utility hooks made with the cloak, were the two lightsabers that he called his own. Also included was an emergency rations pouch and his liquid cable launcher. On his back was a survival pack carrying provisions in earnest and other random gear he figured would be useful on his spelunking.
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dyvius
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Citadel
Oct 14, 2013 21:38:16 GMT -8
Post by dyvius on Oct 14, 2013 21:38:16 GMT -8
The grand entryway of the citadel no longer held the doors it used to. Those massive ebony slabs were laying in crumpled piles just inside the entrance corridor, from where the Separatists had blown them down in order to gain access in a last ditch attempt to beat the Jedi forces inside to find the secrets of Ulic Qel'Droma. Beyond that corridor and after a fair amount of nimble movement to circumvent the debris, Dyvius found the outer promenade, where the Guardian burial tombs had existed. These too had been defiled and destroyed when Anakin Skywalker had sought entrance to the first of the inner tombs. However interesting researching them in untouched condition, Dyvius had not come expecting this from them. He already knew very well the history associated with the Clone Wars and the majority of the effects that the interplanetary war had caused on the hundreds of involved planets. Rhen Var was no exception, and what Dyvius knew with much conviction was that there were deeper tombs even then the one Ulic Qel'Droma inhabited that were completely untouched by the battle between clones and droids that raged here. However, given the ancient state of this monument and the caliber of the battle, damage to the facility as a whole was apparent with rock falls sitting in scattered piles in corners and corresponding gaps in walls and ceiling.
He proceeded forward, feeling with the Force and using the spatial recognition his montrals gave him to probe his surroundings on both physical and spiritual levels. Apparently, Ulic's tomb was one of the only entrances to farther down tombs, which was odd considering his fallen status within the Jedi Order. Dyvius rather hoped Anakin hadn't actually found his way lower into the citadel by accident. Ducking unnecessarily inside the large arch that separated the main atrium from the inner passages Dyvius soon found himself in a room dominated by crystal pillars spanning from floor to ceiling and sprawling out at either connection in a cone. They emanated with the Force, and seemed to be the concentration of Force energy in the room. In the center of a seemingly un-geometric cluster of these spires was a tomb that lay dark and lifeless, as all tombs should.
Dyvius approached the tomb and stood right before it. He reached out a gloved hand and lay it upon the face of the tomb, feeling at the same time for any Force presence within the stone. And then something pushed back against his presence. Dyvius, very experienced in the ways of the Force, did not recoil from this presence, which felt at both times somewhat chaotic yet almost unequivocally ordered. Deciding to mingle with it, Dyvius pushed inward and made his own presence somewhat malleable. It instantly responded, wrapping into him with a feeling of age that Dyvius had never felt before. And it seemed the depth of this presence was on the verge of enveloping Dyvius completely, but this Gray Jedi was one too much in tune with the Flowing Force to fall into something so self-contained and personal. He quickly fell back into the embrace of the here-and-now and left the other presence somewhat irritated at its failure. Dyvius projected a sense of rebuke into this alien presence and the other finally spoke.
"You are no child, like Skywalker."
Dyvius knew then that Ulic Qel'Droma inhabited this tomb after all. His spirit, at any rate.
"No, unlike Skywalker, I know I am not invincible. I have dwelt in the Dark, and in the Light. I now live in a realm that has them both."
The spirit pulsed with an emotion Dyvius could not place, "An inbetweener. Your type was scorned in my time, but if I learned anything from my time with Skywalker, it's that times have drastically changed in a few millennia. The Force is experiencing more chaos than ever before. Maybe your breed is our future."
"I would certainly think so, Ulic." Dyvius wanted to get to the point with this spirit. "I have a single question for you: are there more Jedi in this place?"
This prompted something akin to mirthful scorn on Ulic's part, "Jedi? You consider me Jedi, still. True, I destroyed the Dark Reaper and saved the galaxy, and helped Skywalker do the same. However, it cost me my goodness. I fell and it was ultimately irreversible. Tell me, whatever became of Skywalker?"
Something about this question astounded Dyvius until he reminded himself that the spirit would have no way of discovering the events beyond what came directly to him. So it was then confirmed that no one had returned to Rhen Var since the events of the Clone Wars.
"He fell, Ulic, much like yourself, almost two years after her came to you for wisdom. His fall was different, however, it cost the existence of the entire Jedi Order."
The spirit seemed to explode with surprise. Dyvius had no problem weathering the storm that cascaded about his own energy. He added, "His son rebuilt the Order some time ago. The Jedi are beginning to flourish once more. But the galaxy is spiraling even further out of control, regardless. I wonder even now how long we have before a crisis calls to us."
"You give me much to think about, Inbetweener. But I shall answer your question so you can leave to my self: yes. There are others who reside with their resting places far below and even above me. I know not what you come for, but do not be surprised if there are some that aren't as sane as myself..."
There was no time to reply, Ulic had already receded from Dyvius. Blinking and removing his hand, Dyvius proceeded past the tomb, wondering why he felt so stiff...as if he had spent a longer time than he though communing with Ulic.Onward then, to the further, darkened reaches of the citadel.
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dyvius
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Citadel
Oct 16, 2013 19:45:29 GMT -8
Post by dyvius on Oct 16, 2013 19:45:29 GMT -8
Hidden in the shadowy recesses beyond the tomb of Ulic Qel'Droma lay a corridor hewn out of the dark stone mixed with ice. It was not a perfectly square tunnel, either, but rather a triangle brought to a point seven feet above the rocky floor, also slippery in some places. The natural balance afforded Togrutas on account of their montrals as well as the Jedi training kept Dyvius from having too much trouble navigating this darkened passageway, and for much of it the dim glow provided only by the random clusters of crystals scattered in corners and high up on the slanted walls was all Dyvius required to advance ever downward in the mysterious Citadel. All the while, in the pit of Dyvius' stomach, a certain pressure seemed to be building, as if something of a great magnitude waited within these walls and only became apparent when one was completely surrounded by them. It seemed to call up a feeling of unease within the Gray Jedi, however he quickly allowed the unease to leave with the Flow of the Force that permeated every inch of his being.
Finally, after nearly a fifteen minute trek ever deeper into the Citadel, Dyvius realized that the light sources that were the crystals were non-existent, and that he had lapsed into a combination of his montrals' spatial awareness and the Force itself to guide his feet surely. Deciding against that continued course of action in the name of precaution, Dyvius snapped one of his two lightsabers from his utility loops and activated it, bursting the tunnel with orange light like a sunrise. Blinking back the sudden increase in luminosity, Dyvius proceeded forward, habitually tuning out the humming drone from his energy blade that most long-time Jedi did without even thinking. The lightsaber, from the earliest training days, was taught to be an extension of one's being, and so all of its quirks, noises, feelings, and dimensions were as if a simple addition to a Jedi's limb and to his consciousness as well.
But only twelve further steps crunching under thin ice crystals were taken before another noise, one clearly not made by the Jedi or his accoutrements, echoed about the corridor. Dyvius halted out of reflex, knowing better than to delve further into the unknown without first gathering his bearings and wits about himself. The Force seems to fluctuate oddly from somewhere just up ahead, around another bend in the tunnel, and what made Dyvius more curious was that his montrals did not seem to register anything, even though the Force clearly did.
Was it a Force-based illusion? A free-roaming spirit? Or something more arcane than even a well-traveled Jedi chronicler could place? Dyvius took another step forward, holding his lightsaber in a double-handed grip before him like that found with Soresu; his favored Ataru would not be very feasible in this enclosed space. Hopefully, the upcoming twist in the path would open up into another cavern or atrium...
Dyvius was rewarded with this advantage as he deftly slid around the corner and found a breeze play upon the little-exposed skin. The near-numbness nearly failed to register the air disturbance, but his montrals never failed him. The Force was in a great tumult, and Dyvius, despite his rock-solid concentration, had to nearly tune it out and leave the flow because even it was threatening to sweep him away with an un-sentient level of chaos. No thinking being could ever manage to cause such a ravenous tumult on the ethereal plane. But then again, could a non-sentient even conjure such chaos?
It was then that an unattached bang fanned out from the center of the space, accompanied with an eerie green glow that stemmed from what appeared to be a rend in the stone of the floor in the center of the space, something was taking shape in the frigid air. The Force seemed to whip about Dyvius, standing stalwart and crouched amidst the growing maelstrom, and it tugged at his cold-climate robing with an unnatural hunger. The light took shape, it appeared to be, as it thrashed itself into existence, of no definite shape, but most often shifted into an emaciated spectre covered in a concealing cloak.
Dyvius held his lightsaber in the Ataru opening stance, close to his left hip with both hands firmly on the hilt and stared at the spectre, still seeming to thrash at nothing and gathering the maelstrom of energy to itself. His mind worked frantically through the old records he had reviewed until it settled upon the recovered field report of Anakin Skywalker's entrance into the opening atrium of the Citadel: These were Spectral Guardians, and they were collections of deranged Dark spirits summoned from the Force and bound into one being. They were tied to the tombs which contained their totems and could only be defeated or subdued by the destruction of these tombs.
The Spectre finally seemed to focus itself on Dyvius, standing seemingly alone in a room barely illuminated by the clash of orange and eerier cyan, and it launched itself forward with an ungodly shriek.
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dyvius
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Citadel
Oct 16, 2013 21:04:39 GMT -8
Post by dyvius on Oct 16, 2013 21:04:39 GMT -8
"They can only be subdued by destroying their totems..."
That direction hovered in the back of Dyvius' mind as the Spectre rushed at him, bringing before it a wall of absolute Force chaos like on onrushing hurricane. Previously having been the obsidian stone that stayed separate from the maelstrom, Dyvius decided his only way to avoid this creature and whatever devastation it brought was to use it's aberration in the Force against it. Opening himself to the Force and its flow, however wild, Dyvius found his presence upon the strongest current and he jumped with empowered legs in that direction, curving past the spectre and its charge with a corkscrew, and he never even paused after that. The spectre, born of the Force and residing in the Force, was already racing after Dyvius like his own shadow and the Gray Jedi employed his mastery of Ataru, the Way of the Mynock and the connection to whatever stable scrap of Force Flow he could grasp to keep a step ahead of the monster wailing like a banshee and flailing like fabric in Kamino's torrential downpour.
But all the while the high-speed chase never really led in any direction, because Dyvius was only moving based on where the spectre chased him, and likewise for the spectre. Dotting across the cavern, and using various fallen stones from the ceiling during any number of foundation-shaking events in the Citadel's past as leverage, Dyvius tried very gradually to guide the chase toward the center of the room, where the tomb and the spectre's totem apparently resided. In fact, amidst the harsh glow of close calls with the creature, Dyvius caught sight of a wisp-thin trail of luminescent energy trailing from the body of the monster to wherever that crevasse lay in the floor.
The pursuit lasted but two minutes, yet it was as if an hour had passed in the deadly game of cat-and-mouse before the unnatural spectre finally pulled back from an attack and seemed to shift the insane Force currents about itself so that Dyvius' next Flow-assisted leap failed and he barely recovered in time to keep from slamming down on his side. However, on one knee with lightsaber at his side, Dyvius looked up into the glowing body of the creature as it bore down on him. Dyvius lashed out with his lightsaber and cut through the center mass as one of the claw-like appendages ravaged into his shoulder. The feeling was beyond the physical for him: it seemingly flash-froze the area without actually doing so, but then resounded like a sonic boom through his mind and sent him reeling within himself. This beast, while looking physical, attacked solely on the metaphysical plane. And looking upon the beast, it was already connecting its energies upon the rend the orange blade had hewn in it. Apparently the energy weapon at least disrupted its cohesiveness which held it up if even in a delayed fashion. It wouldn't be enough, if the creature would still be able to land such hindering blows against him.
After a bloodcurdling cry from the internal pain, Dyvius reeled back from where he had crouched and held his blade out before him instinctively as he tried to clear the damage to his inner psyche. Meanwhile, the spectre gathered itself and rushed again, Dyvius, knowing the danger was upon him, fell into the Flow of the Force and simply dived right at the beast, enveloping himself in the flow and bending it to himself like a cocoon in the same fashion that the Spectre created its personal maelstrom. Tearing directly through the center of the beast, Dyvius caught the whispers of the deranged voices of a countless multitude of individual spirits all part of this one crazed spectre's being. On the other side, Dyvius rolled out of his dive and came up, looking over his shoulder and seeing the spectre in energized shreds pulling itself together like a magnet collecting metal filings.
And so the Togruta ran at the crevasse lightsaber held aloft, and jumped feet first when he reached it. Having fallen not nearly as far as he had expected, Dyvius' set his feet upon a large stone slab, presumably the tomb. In fact, the flickering tether of the spectre seemed to stretch out of the stone itself, and Dyvius decided he had but a short amount of time before the spectre cornered him in its own lair. The Jedi drove his lightsaber down into the stone, pushing it to the hilt and beginning to drag it around the tether in a circle. Meanwhile, the wailing of the spectre from above increased in volume almost deafeningly, and Dyvius winced as his somehow-still-injured shoulder resonated with the shriek. Faltering only slightly as he steeled himself, Dyvius continued cutting as fast as the stone would permit the passing of the blade, but even he knew the progress wasn't ideal. The tether, as it snaked past Dyvius and upwards, seemed to pulse as the screeching intensified. Then, a greenish glow permeated the cramped space of the crevasse and Dyvius looked up, seeing the still-incomplete spectre hovering above its resting place, the danger to its existence calling it back even if it wasn't able to defend it just yet.
Realizing the saber would not be the answer, Dyvius deactivated it and clipped it hurriedly to his cloak before calling upon the Force heavily, even drawing the already churned energy about the spectre into a concentrated area between his cupped palms. He worked as fast as he could to compress the energy into a nearly visible sphere of roiling Force energy wishing to escape the confines area it was being forced to emanate it. Finally, the Kinetite reached an acceptable size, and the Spectre let out one final screech before descending upon Dyvius with the intent to swallow him whole. Dyvius plunged the ball of energy into the damaged tomb and was lifted upwards by the rebounding force of the Kinetite erupting even as it tore the tomb asunder. Unfortunately, the blast sent Dyvius careening unprotected directly through the spectre even as its connection to the living world was severed, and the icy cold seemed to envelop Dyvius if only momentarily as he was launched from the crevasse only to land unceremoniously hard upon the icy-cold stone of the larger cavern.
Minutes passed as Dyvius fought to regain his mind from the almost lethal darkness that the effect touching the spectre had on him. All was quiet in the cavern, save the tired breathing of the Togruta, but Dyvius could not even experience the living world until he slowly recollected his mind and reached out for the Force, finding its flow normal once more. With his mind rejuvenating through the healing nature of the Force, Dyvius more rapidly came to his sense and opened his eyes, sitting up and taking stock of his dark surroundings. With a shake of his head and a wince from the pain that movement brought, Dyvius reached gingerly for his lightsaber and activated it again, using its glow to survey the room and seeing that the crevasse in the room was more so a small crater after the blast of Force energy. Rock from the explosion was littered about the room, and there were minor tears in the harsh-climate cloak from splintered rock. However, on the whole, Dyvius was still whole and able to proceed.
One thing was certain: Dyvius was no Anakin Skywalker. The field report confirmed by General Kenobi stated that Skywalker had faced three of those guardian simultaneously before finding Ulic's tomb. Dyvius had barely survived only one.
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dyvius
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Citadel
Oct 23, 2013 17:23:33 GMT -8
Post by dyvius on Oct 23, 2013 17:23:33 GMT -8
Tip-shiff, tip-shiff, tip-shiff, tip-shiff....
An irregular sound echoed down the ice-laden corridors, disturbing the silence that had stood for more than a century. In fact, the silence in these deep catacombs easily lasted for many millennium, as not even the likes of the Old Republic had permeated this layer of deep Jedi History...or in some cases not-so-Jedi history. But one being had decided it was time to crack what lay beneath, even if what lay beneath didn't want to be cracked at all.
Dyvius shuffled along with a dogged determination. The full-body pain that had come with the fight against the Spectre had not yet worn off, and Dyvius was trying to keep moving lest the cold seep into his very being and leave him to turn into an ineffectual guardian of the citadel, forced to wander the eddies of the Force with no recourse but the cavalcade of forsaken spirits for the eons to come. But it was not so. The Gray Jedi continued to let his presence drift on the Force, using it to try and purge the intangible damage done to him by his earlier battle, now far behind him. But these Spectres were clearly effective guardians for the typical graverobber, and Dyvius had already berated himself in between bouts of meditative silence about walking in completely blind to the possible defense the ancient Jedi had put in place when they originally sealed this massive mausoleum. And now he had not heard a single thing but his own labored breathing and movements as he moved down a twisting corridor that had no exits yet...even after nearly a kilometer of walking. It was clearly not some accidental stumbling into a natural cave system, it was obvious that this way was man made, however, it brought to mind how much of this ancient complex actually resided beneath the steel-hard ice and snow compared to the already impressive showing still visible from Rhen Var's surface.
Tip-shiff, tip-shiff, tip-shiff, tip-shiff....
The uneven gait still hadn't given way because Dyvius' organic leg had not quite recovered from the Spectre. His prosthetic held up just fine; the rampant Force-energy it had come in contact with did not seem to have damaged it in the slightest. Nearly 500 meters ago Dyvius had no longer required the light of his lightsaber because pockets of crystals glowing with a powerful light dotted the walls and crevices of the corridor. A little bit of passive scanning with the Force revealed that they were filled or created out of concentrated Force energy with a technique that Dyvius had never heard of. But then again, even the Spectres were bound with Force techniques even the Darkest Sith had forgotten. The Jedi of the oldest times were masters of powers that their successors did not understand in the slightest. And Dyvius wondered if any of these long-buried Jedi had any knowledge of these techniques. If they did it would be a discovery more valuable than anything Dyvius had ever accomplished in his life. He could only hope for something of this magnitude to be found when this corridor gave way to more than the monotonous sights and features it currently held.
Tip-shiff, tip-shiff, tip-shiff, tip-shiff....
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dyvius
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Citadel
Oct 24, 2013 19:40:47 GMT -8
Post by dyvius on Oct 24, 2013 19:40:47 GMT -8
The harsh surface of Rhen Var never changed. The wind was always blowing and trying to strip the body of any heat it attempted to build. The ice and snow were continuously unforgiving and had no indication that they would change. And everything was a mesh of white and gray. There was nothing else and there would definitely never be anything ever again.
Three figures, wearing white-out combat gear covered with a heavy-fabric cloak, crouched on the edge of the basin that sat before the Citadel. The short one in the middle held a pair of weather-protected macrobinoculars. They were trained on the silver starship that sat close to the ramp leading into the citadel. The two bigger figures kneeling in the crusted snow to either side of the scouter stood as still as statues. Out of habit and not out of necessity they were scanning their immediate surroundings an assuring an already guaranteed assurance that they were absolutely alone. Two pairs of vigilant eyes looked out of heavily tinted goggles like the hoverboarders used on more tourist-attractive snow biomes. Efficient head-wraps obscured all other features on any of them, and their bulk was made both of hard physical training and the mostly hidden body armor underneath.
The smaller figure lowered the binocs and slid them into a pocket inside the cloak. Abruptly, the figure said in a muffled voice, "There's no one down there. But the ship has power readings. I'm wagering security is active."
The bigger figure on the left said, standing, "Then we avoid it completely. Whoever it is probably is inside somewhere."
Also standing, the smaller figure replied, "Fine by me. Think the poor fool is still alive?"
The one on the left shrugged, "Who knows. Either way we're most likely bringing back a corpse."
An unspoken agreement had three grappling guns in the gloved hands of the mysterious trio. With a sound thunk into the ice at the very edge of the cliff, the cables were deployed and sturdily set. The three spun about, backs to the open air, and promptly jumped into space, rappelling down the side of the wall of ice for nearly 400 meters until their booted feet touched down on the soft snow pack at the base.
Three synchronized snaps detached the now-useless cable and let it hang fluttering against the wall. They stowed the grapples, and instead reached into various locations and produced a wide variety of weaponry. The small one held an E-11 Blaster rifle while the tall one on the left toted a DC-15A rifle and the quiet one on the right held an A280. Completely skirting at a safe distance past the Aka'jor shuttle, the small one commented, "It's Mandalorian."
The tall one added, "Means we've got ourselves a graverobber."
Silence enveloped them until they were well up the ramp and into the citadel's atrium. Having reconned this area well before now, the small one verified that nothing at all had been changed, save the slight indents of footprints in the crusted snow leading into Qel'Droma's tomb. The tall one adjusted his DC-15's positioning in his hands, "Well I'm not exactly surprised."
The quiet one nodded and led the way forward, careful to limit any noise while holding rifle pointed before him. Flanking the cramped entrance to the first tomb, the small one and the tall one waved the quiet one forward, who crept forward before diving into a combat roll and coming up well inside the room housing the tomb rifle swinging in an attempt to find a target. The other two members of the trio followed suit and soon they formed a unit covering every direction. But they found no one. A cursory glance at the tomb proved it was untouched. Nothing else was even remotely defaced.
But they followed the tracks left by whoever came before them. They moved beyond the tomb after stopping at it, and continued further into the depths of the citadel.
The small one said, "Well this is going to be interesting."
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dyvius
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Citadel
Jan 26, 2014 12:22:33 GMT -8
Post by dyvius on Jan 26, 2014 12:22:33 GMT -8
Somewhere deep within the Citadel the original pathway branched off into now-empty catacombs and smaller side passages that held shadowy pockets where the Force-lights didn't penetrate. Dyvius had put himself away in one of these when the sounds of life coming down from behind him echoed down the cave. Luckily, by that point he had regained full sensory control of his organic parts and was moving more or less silently when the sounds came to him. It most likely meant that whoever was now following his trail had no idea he was on to them.
Wagering that the pursuers were packing thermal gear for sensing anything alive down here, Dyvius had used the Force to obscure his aura of heat and create an effective cold zone around his body to sensors. Usually, the only applications of the Force applying to energy meant actually physically altering the energy itself, which would indeed require activating a weird version of hibernation that most likely would lead to his death in this frozen cave network, but Dyvius had learned of another method which provided a way to simulate actual temperature changes without having them be organically-effective. The sensors would completely miss him, or so he was convinced.
With nothing to do but wait out the arrival of the pursuers and the intersection which would lead to the catacomb Dyvius had spirited himself to, the Jedi had begun to use the Force to warp the snow pack on the ground to all-but reorder his footprints and give the pursuers a false trail. And finally, as the echoes grew louder the presences became apparent in the Force, and Dyvius identified three individuals; weary and alert and getting slightly edgy.
The temperature screen Dyvius also muffled outside stimuli, so what they were saying was lost, but they were saying it in a hush anyway. The Jedi waited until they had strolled on past, not even stopping at his intersection. Dyvius presumed that his falsifying of the trail was good enough but it did not go on forever, so if he wanted to surprise them it would have to be...
Now.
The three presence stopped abruptly about ten meters past the intersection, but Dyvius was already in motion, pulling his orange-bladed saber hilt into his hand and dropping the temperature screen in favor of Force-enhancing his movement so that he was already in the intersection behind the three by the time they were turning around and preparing to back track. Dyvius could feel their surprise as a heavily cloaked figure appeared from seemingly nowhere in the almost-darkness lit with the eerie spectral blues of the Force-light crystals. And he was gathering the Force around him in case they had some itchy trigger fingers to go with the massive blaster rifles he saw in their arms. But for a second, they were too stunned from the sudden appearance of a person when he had never been anywhere on their thermal scans.
Dyvius spoke, "I'm curious as to why you're following me."
The moment was passed and three rifles came up to fire without hesitation. Dyvius was ready. His orange saber sprang to life in front of him and simultaneously he burst out with the Force at the two taller figures flanking the lithe one in the middle. They were thrown farther down the tunnel and crashed along the close walls. The middle figure fired but Dyvius was already deflecting the bolts back and into the walls around him effortlessly.
In the midst of the relentless flurry, Dyvius pushed out with the Force and sent the third figure careening down the corridor, knocking the rifle free.
The Togruta Jedi ran.
Not away, mind you. There was much too much distance to cover without any way to dodge in order to return to the surface before the assailants caught up and started their attack anew. Instead, Dyvius ran past them with a burst of supernatural speed and was already arcing around a curve in the main corridor and out of sight, not looking back.
The three mercenaries were on their feet as fast as they could muster. They retrieved their scattered weapons and were pursuing as best they could deeper into the tombs beneath the Citadel, beginning to develop trepidation at the fact that this was no ordinary Mandalorian they were pursuing now. Tall spoke through their helmet comms as they ran "This isn't a Mandalorian grave robber."
"No shit," Quiet said. "Had a lightsaber. Clearly Jedi."
"Why we chasing him? This is a Jedi monument." Short asked. Nobody said anything as they realized the truth of the matter...
"Not all lightsaber-wielding crazies are Jedi." Quiet replied.
They left it at that. No soldier, no matter how skilled, wanted to face what they knew to be Sith. Luckily for them, they were wrong, but Dyvius wasn't aware they weren't thinking he was a Jedi.
Not long after, Dyvius sped into a room that opened up just as he had hoped...into a single chamber larger than the original atrium....it was simply massive. And it was lit by clusters of the Force crystals that would put to shame some of the most luminescent of lighting fixtures. Alcoves signified by grand arches lined the circumference of the room, leading presumably to any number of tombs of the ancient Jedi buried here. And the Force, however ancient, was strong. Dyvius felt like he could easily hold off his assailants...as long as he could limit the damage a potential battle would cause everything could be dealt with.
In the center of the room, completely clear of any rockfalls or debris -- the distance was so great from the battle on the surface that there was no structural evidence -- Dyvius held his lightsaber ready, waiting for the three soldiers to appear...he could feel them approaching.
Finally, they burst into the room and were taken briefly by the same feeling of awe he had when entering, but then three pairs of eyes settled on him behind helmet visors and three rifles raised to gain a bead on him. Dyvius shook his well-covered head and fell head long into the power of the Force, following its flow to guide him forward though the events about to unfold. The blasters fired, but Dyvius was already moving out of their path, lightsaber springing to life.
He charged forward, almost a blur, and came upon the tall figure on the left flank. Only able to flinch away, a slash of the lightsaber separated the rifle into pieces while the soldier fell back. Dyvius somersaulted backwards as the thin one and the short one turned to try and cut him down from point blank. The bolts missed by a foot or more as Dyvius rolled along the ground to come up in front of the thin one in the middle. He sliced his rifle too, and then punched out with the Force with a metaphysical blow to the solar plexus which sent the soldier tumbling back against the chamber wall. The final one still standing was swinging the end of his rifle at Dyvius in a last ditch effort with the rifle's range now irrelevant. Dyvius sliced the incoming gun apart and responded by slamming the butt of his saber into the soldier's helmet. As the soldier stumbled aside, Dyvius fell into a crouch and launched a sweeping kick as he pivoted that knocked the dazed soldier onto his back.
The tall soldier was up and aiming a small blaster pistol at Dyvius. But the Togruta was still much faster than the soldier and as he fired Dyvius was finishing a forward roll and coming up right below the soldier, pushing upwards with a Force blast that sent the soldier rocketing upward and then falling hard to his back with a shout of surprise more than pain, but Dyvius knew the pain would be all around him. The thin soldier was up, then, and holding an expandable vibroblade that hummed lethally. Dyvius rose and flourished his own glowing blade as a duelist would to a worthy opponent. He said, as the soldier advanced with a guarded position to the blade, "Why are you assailing me? It's unnecessary."
The thin one said nothing but only rushed forward, probably hoping to catch the Jedi off balance while he spoke. Unfortunately for a practiced bladesman like the Togruta, such a rudimentary tactic would definitely not work. He blocked the slash on his back foot and then pivoted away letting the soldier advance into him with the momentum of the charge. As the next slice came in horizonatally at the waist, Dyvius was blocking it with practice and he proceeded to aim a jab at the soldier's left shoulder. The soldier flinched away, frantically bringing her vibroblade back around and knocking the lightsaber away to only leave a glancing cut in the shoulder guard. But Dyvius was not deterred, he pressed the retreat, slicing with efficient, precise attacks that forced the soldier to give ground in order to preserve his life.
Until the short soldier regained his feet and aimed his own blaster pistol at Dyvius' back. Feeling the Force thrill with danger, Dyvius jumped with all of his power upward to avoid the shots that came at where his back would have been moments ago. Instead, and unfortunately for the thin soldier, the blaster bolts all took him right in the chest plate, knocking her back and down cold. Dyvius landed after twisting through the air and landing facing the final standing soldier.
The man fired again, overcoming the horror of cutting down an ally. But Dyvius deflected the bolts away and the last one reflected right back at the man with deadly accuracy, taking him right in the knee and sending him to the ground. Dyvius advanced as the soldier crumpled, pulling the blaster pistol away with the Force and then turning to the tall soldier, who was up on one elbow and holding a holdout blaster, most likely the last of the weapons the man carried. Dyvius shook his head as two bolts came his way. He blocked them easily and reached out, taking the weapon from the man's hand by the Force.
"No more. I refuse to kill you. I am not the bad guy here." Dyvius spoke to the two men. The short one said with gritted teeth, "What about Kam?!? She's dead!"
"Not dead yet, idiot. The armor you where absorbed most of the damage. But I can heal her if you'll stop trying to kill me." Dyvius hissed. He shook his head.
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Death Angel
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Post by Death Angel on Oct 3, 2015 9:23:46 GMT -8
Angel landed catfooted atop a four-storey tower, overlooking a massive courtyard facing an observatory dome, where an abandoned monitoring station post lay, relatively intact. The keep stood dead centre of the structure, and just south of it were the listening posts where sentries kept the watch. At the west of the citadel gates were faded remnants of a granite-limestone statue lay, with words in Galactic Basic carved onto its toppled plaque at the base: "The Crypt of Ross Mysliwiec". Just like the origins of the base, his deeds were lost to history and the interstellar cataclysm that was the Clone Wars conflict that comprised most of the planet's databank history had stained this particular mountain with the taint of the darkside. Beyond that undercroft and the gates was another series of icicle-laden caverns with tunnel networks that led into the mountain.
In the distance, among ancient Jedi ruins was a temple monument still stood the test of time defying the blizzards - containing the mausoleum that sepulchered the tomb of the legendary Ulic Qel-Droma. Rumour has it the antechamber is still watched over by the Spectral Guardians. Angel surmised so, because the strongest Force essences were emanating from there. Those aforementioned tunnels, Angel assumed would lead him straight to the Jedi Temple. Back on Iridonia Angel had studied crystallography pertaining to sabers, and the holocrons had told him the almost-mythical Solari crystal grew here. But he wasn't after that kind; the Solari would not yield but to the purest of heart, and Angel in character was far from his namesake. Perhaps those tunnels would contain enough crystallised permafrost. The catacomb visit would just be a bonus.
Angel turned to see if Romulus had followed close behind.
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Romulus Aran
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Post by Romulus Aran on Oct 4, 2015 5:18:56 GMT -8
Roumlus landed with a loud THUD! right behind Angel.
Yes yes, im here, im-
His sentence cut off, Romulus turned in the direction of the Tomb. The Force presence the monument was resonating with was strong, such that he could almost hear it speaking to him.
What the kark..?
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Death Angel
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Oct 9, 2015 22:58:25 GMT -8
Post by Death Angel on Oct 9, 2015 22:58:25 GMT -8
Like I said, the crypt of Ulic Qel-Droma. The holocrons back at the Academy state his restless spirit still wanders and haunts those halls. Spectral Guardians also guard its entrance. Deranged chaos merged into one by the darkside; their essence is similar to what we encountered on Ziost, except more refined and deadly. The Clone Wars Skywalker barely survived a confrontation with three of these Spectres.
Angel started towards the caves.
I am going to find my crystal in there. Feel free to explore, but don't get in over your head.
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Romulus Aran
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Oct 16, 2015 9:06:48 GMT -8
Post by Romulus Aran on Oct 16, 2015 9:06:48 GMT -8
Romulus nodded as Angel departed from him. He turned his full attention towards the crypt. From what he heard, it seemed very very dangerous.
Master, please don't do something foolish again.
Rom's personal assistance droid's voice rang out from a receiver hanging onto his left earlobe. Romulus smirked and tapped the small button-sized device to reply.
Relax, this wont be the stupidest thing i've done.
Rom could've sworn he heard Serina scoff from his earpiece. Could droids do that? Then again, Serina had always been a unique one.
That's little reassurance...
Romulus smiled, before cutting the transmission and making his way to the crypt. He maneuvered through the barren ice-cold wasteland until he finally found himself standing before the great Jedi Monument of Rhen Var. The stone structures towered over Rom as he walked in, coming to a stop only once he reached the main temple doors. Taking a deep breath, Romulus pushed the doors open, and walked in. Almost ominously, the doors closed behind him. Romulus grimaced, and un-holstered his lightsaber. No point taking chances, where he was going.
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Death Angel
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Nov 21, 2015 7:00:00 GMT -8
Post by Death Angel on Nov 21, 2015 7:00:00 GMT -8
Fifteen minutes in and the external temperatures had already plummted to subzero standards. His steps were as silent as phantasms as he stole like a thief across the cavernous tunnels illumed by Force lights. He was feeling for the right texture, malleable yet solid. The signature of the permafrost crystal would be the eerie warmth it emanated if in contact with flesh attuned to Force-sensitivity.the iciness of the walls gave off no hints of crystal deposits yet, although Angel was fairly certain it'd be stuck in some inconvenient location, like wedged within the icicles, which would hamper its extraction, especially to not jeopardise the integrity of the networked infrastructure..
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Death Angel
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Post by Death Angel on Dec 26, 2015 22:29:52 GMT -8
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Sigh.
That last part was Angel, by the way. The dripping was getting to his nerves in the most excruciatingly banal way, and he was wondering if anything could be fruitful from this expedition. Probably not, but who knows? The increasing darkness of the maze was combated by a strange, blue, luminescent glow from illume crystals that covered most of the passages. It barely let him see the first few meters from the walls, to see the puddles as he walked in them, entrenched. The puddles ahead could go up to around his knees, which would severely impede his mood and mobility.
And so he went into a floating meditation stance, hovering across the water stretches in the scantily lit maze. At the other dry end of the subterranean lake, some shadows moved beyond him. Graverobbers? Clearly it was an ambush. He had a policy on traps – spring it.
He sensed four presences now; their thermal concealers hid their body signatures, but Angel could sense them in the Force. They were like quivering ripples on a tranquil lake, disturbing the placidity. He was annoyed enough already that he didn't want any unnecessary delay. He was processing this thought right went they came out from hiding and boxed him in.
Well well well, looks like we caught ourselves a graverobber, chaps!
Yeah, clever notion – robbing the robbers.
I am no robber. I am a seeker. And if you have nothing I seek nor information on how to obtain what I seek, I highly suggest you move your inflated egos out of my way.
At this, blaster rifles and vibroblades appeared into hands with considerable speed.
Did I miss the part about giving you a choice? Either you'll accompany us a captive, or as a corpse.
Now, there's a curious coincidence. You face the identical choice. Except I am in no mood for captives.
If that's how you wanna play...
The pincer flank formation the highwaymen were in executed its clamping lock-jaws maneuver, which would be less of a convenience for them, 'cause the box was already empty of Sith.
Angel shot straight up so fast it seemed as if he vanished.
He careened into a forward flip and landed behind them, cloaking into invisibility and blending into the shadows.
What the hell?!
The highwayman had just uttered those words when he grabbed the man's arm and elbowed his left jaw, following with a backhand to the right temple, followed by a wraparound lock with the right arm and a brain-nerve paralysis to the throat to suppress yelling. Turning the soon-comatose highwayman, he struck a knifehand to the vulnerable flesh behind the ear, permanently cutting off blood supply to the cerebrum and effectively rendering him brain-dead. This happened in a matter of three seconds, all while in stealth mode.
The two closest turned in horror, not having time to react, as Angel Force-leapt over both and took care of the lone one still squared to the front, but equally mortified. He took a wild jab at nothing in front of him, but Angel stepped in and countered it anyway, following with another elbow shot to the left temple, wrapping his arm around in the reverse lock from behind and slamming his face down into his rising knee, shattering his skull, then turning him around in a full body bind lock with arms tied behind back. Angel grabbed the relatively untouched right side, applied Shatterpoint, then hurled him into the other two again, still not having anytime to turn back around.
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?! GET AWAY, GET AW–
The highwayman could only get that out when a silver bar of plasma erupted through his abdomen and burst out the other side and burned away his life. Angel fed him half a metre of plasma across with two horizontal sideswipes, neatly bisecting the man at his torso. For good measure, he also decapitated the head as he fell.
Feeding off the final man's terror at his astonishing speed, Angel decloaked and glared with smoke into his eyes with the promise of hell. He spoke in a passive-aggressive tone, calm and centred, the last words this man would ever hear from another.
I warned you to move your inflated egos out of my way.
From threatening one's life to being reduced to stammering beseeches for his own in a matter of a half-minute, the highwayman managed:
D-d-d-don't k-k-kill me p-p...
The man's pathetic pleas were drowned by a Force-imbued knifehand that literally went THROUGH his stomach. He gurgled as Angel launched Force lightning up through his entrails and insides and cleanly vapourised the highwayman's head with the streaming barrage.
Request denied, ingrate.
Angel walked out of that cavern more annoyed than before.
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Death Angel
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Jan 4, 2016 13:23:35 GMT -8
Post by Death Angel on Jan 4, 2016 13:23:35 GMT -8
An hour of following the tug of the elusive darkside energies brought Angel to a subterranean field of crystals. Great. After not seeing one in sight, now there were millions. The standard kybers, nova crystals, lasing crystals, adegans, lambent, lignans, blackwings, etc... The permafrost crystals were in abundance here too, but he wanted the ideal one, not just any first gem he could lay hands on.
He ignored the humming in the back of his head; an amateur move would be to try and find the crystal that sang the loudest. If one were to focus on a specific, the semitones would drop and diminish. This was a good indication of solid exterior, yet unsuitable for saber use. Their volatility would frequently end in malfunction explosions. If an electrical current tripped, the power cell connector would feed the influx to the handgrip, another undesirable circumstance. In the Force, each tone passed by and was replaced by other discordant atonalities.
No, Angel wanted a true crystal; he continued, lapsing between Cosmic and Living Force. He drew in a deep breath, ignoring the frigidity that ripped into his lungs corporeally, his mind hovering on the verge of epiphany. An echo of Chaos hit from the north-northeastern part of the cave, perpendicularly west to his current direction.
It was closer now then ever, and his fanaticism, there was no other word for it, an absolute total devotion, wasn't fading into darkness like other things. If anything it had grown into a inferno, though he had become more rational, realising that a minor thing against it would grow into a major thing for it. Like a seed, which required so much work to grow into a tree, but then provided fruit for it's owner's wishes. In the end, that energy you exerted everyday was given back tenfold. Not only then would you get the satisfaction of your labor, but you could sell it and purchase something to make what you did easier.
At the mention of food, Angel realised he hadn't eaten since hyperspace between Alzoc III and Rhen Var, and then even sparsely. He went through his battle vest for his combat rations, Aqualish hoi-broth tube and several ration cubes, which did little to his compressed stomach's compelling. He submitted into another dark trance thereafter, dimly aware that his body was working as he submerged himself in his subconscious. Clairvoyantly prodding towards another sound as the Chaos tune crescendoed, he heard, coming from the crystal, a pure chord, singing a song of fire and discord, of anarchy and agony, death and desecration. An ancient crystal which sang towards him with music he could understand instinctively, with his primal instincts in the Living Force.
Like an anooba fresh on the scent of its next meal, he kept to the eerie symphonic oscillations; it grew louder as he walked towards a decent icy blue cerulean permafrost crystal, with a single dark splotch splitting down its centre. Bending down, it grew to fill his mind, sharpening his telepathic sensors. Digging a vibroshiv from his magazine pouch, he noted the bluntness, he set to work with the tool. It would get the crystal out, though it was unlikely it would kill anyone any time soon. It scraped away the circumferential brittle-snow, then the weaker stone that was containing it with the crystal. It was now easily detachable.
Pocketing the shiv, he telekinetically gripped the base of the crystal and heaved upwards with invisible hands, loosing the foundations holding it in place and shooting it horizontally flat onto his open palm. It felt colder than the air in the place. He found a drier elevated rock outcropping protruding and Force-jumped onto it. Taking a seat and removing his battle vest, he pulled out a discblade hilt, a different variation from the standard blades used back at the Academy he trained under and trains at. He'd reserve that for modification to his doublesaber, now in a scabbard on his back. He returned it to his assault pack and replaced it with twin handguard phrik-plated hilts, connected by a fibrecord link. One of the hilts already had a lava crystal in it from Mustafar; he set this aside and took the empty one as he detached from the fibrecord and disassembled with Shatterpoint.
Angel levitated each component of the lightsaber, encircling the crystal at its centre, tacking the crystal mount in the diatium power cell. This would concentrate the power output through the focusing lens into the discharge energy cell for varied blade strength. Half a second later, the flux aperture, which made sure the crystal wouldn't overheat, clicked on, followed by the stabilising ring, which ensured the crystal wouldn't explode. The field energiser then attached itself, guaranteeing the crystal would operate at peak efficiency. On ther other end, the emitter matrix would keep a magnetic grip on the beam and let the extension length stay reliably coherent. It connected at the same time as the inert power insulator, which prevents leakage from electrocuting the handler, since its matter composition couldn't conduct electrical current. The handguard clapped on magnetically to the side.
This happened in a matter of seven seconds. He opened his eyes and called the other blade to him. He then activated both lightsabers at once. Bars the colour of fire and ice broke through the energy gates and shimmered to life in front of his face, outshining the glow of the crystal field below and painting the stalactites in the ceiling with strange shades of summer sky and vermilion dawn. He linked the fibrecords together and stood up, swinging them in a double velocity training pattern. Like wielding sansetsukons in the Echani arts, the arc radius extended well with its kinetic momentum. Both were now fully functional.
While he was at it, he might as well set to work on his other lightsabers. His dual-phase Hurrikane crystal had cracked slightly from wear, so the energy output was exceeding the capacity of the hilt and starting to melt the metals holding it together. Dismantling it, he once more repeated the assembly maneuver with a new hilt from his bag, a new crossguard one of ancient design with lateral vents to spew two additional miniature bars at a right angle to the main blade. This time, when he turned on this lightsaber, the primary indigo blade channeled through the modulation circuits in the trifurcating cyclical ignition pulse located at the Hurrikane's sides and split the plasma in the transverse hilts into perpendicular blade energy channels, serving effectively as a crossguard lightsaber to capitalise on the overloading output of the cracked crystal. Putting it away, he checked on his shoto, a black colour thanks to the Stygium crystal he'd plucked from the excess growth in his ship's stealth cloaking system. The synthetic design was still operationally functional, so he left it be.
Angel turned his attention now to the discblade. Drawing it out at the same time as he removed the doublesaber from the scabbard, he removed the pommel caps on both and transferred the Durindfire crystal inside from one to the other. Reattaching it, he tried out his doublesaber's new functions – a retractable handguard that fit crescent mode for a single blade, and a disc mode for dual blade. It reduced the hilt length, allowing for more mobility, and could spin along tracks in the disc while the handgrip remained stationary, creating a sphere of annihilating energy that fits as a perfect energy shield, while also emphasising velocity on attack and minimising the degree of control escalating out of hand.
Checking that all his sabers were functioning at peak capacity, he kept his dual-phase and shoto in his assault pack with safeties on, sheathed his discblade in a new Brylark casing for a scabbard, and packed it. As for his two new phrik sabers, he hung them on his waist belt, fibrecord-detached. Seeing as to how the outcropping was suitable enough of a place for temporary refuge, he pulled out his wallet tent from his pocket and set up camp briefly on the elevation to nap. It took him this long to find his crystal; now he'd reward himself with a rest break.
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Death Angel
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Feb 3, 2016 11:25:03 GMT -8
Post by Death Angel on Feb 3, 2016 11:25:03 GMT -8
Rested up and recharged by the natural darkside amplifier that was Ulic Qel'Droma's nearby mausoleum, Angel awoke from his reverie, packed his items and retraced his steps back to the cave entrance. The mangled bodies of the idiotic peasants were still there from where he had lightsabered and electrocuted them. Apparently, even the local scavenger fauna couldn't stomach them.
At the entrance, the Force hummed an ambiguous tone through his bones. Ziost. Was something happening back there? He would investigate. He commed his droid.
Geenine, bring the ship over to my location. Hover over the tallest conning spire.
Simultaneously, he contacted Romulus telepathically.
"Enjoy" your time in there. The records say it's quite the experience. Something seems to have cropped up back home. Should be nothing, but I'll check it out.
A couple minutes later, he heard the familiar engine of his invisible Firespray craft. Using the Force, a single nudge opened the ramp and he leapt onto it via sensory perception. To the outsider, it looked like he was walking on air, as if in an Aing-Tii trance. As the ramp closed in after him, it was as if Angel disappeared into thin air.
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Romulus Aran
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Post by Romulus Aran on Jun 9, 2016 8:26:03 GMT -8
Romulus looked around. It was dark. Very dark. Even as he stood still allowing his eyes to adjust, Romulus still wasn't reassured. He flicked a switch on his wrist gauntlet, activating the built-in flashlight. He swept the beam of light around himself. He seemed to have stepped into some massive hallway. Tall walls rose up to the ceiling above him, almost 20m above. Romulus walked over to the walls and looked closer. No inscriptions. No markings. He turned behind and shone the light on the opposite wall. He couldn't sense anything at all. And for a tomb belonging to a former Jedi, that was odd. Very odd.
Frowning, Romulus began walking deeper into the hall. All the while he kept his senses on alert for anything at all. But still nothing. As Romulus walked on, he thought back onto what he'd heard about Ulic Qel-Droma.
Former Jedi Knight, turned to the dark side with Exar Kun... returned to the light after... oh.
Romulus stopped walking.
...before Nomi Sunrider stripped him of his Force. Damn.
Disappointed, both with the tomb and with himself, Romulus turned and walked back the way he came from. Within minutes he was back outside of the tomb, in the freezing harsh air.
Guess i'll go find Angel.
Romulus jumped off, propelling himself through the air with the force. Moments later he arrived at the caves where Angel had entered to find his saber crystals. Adjusting his coat properly, Romulus walked in to find his old master.
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Romulus Aran
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Mar 9, 2017 18:41:24 GMT -8
Post by Romulus Aran on Mar 9, 2017 18:41:24 GMT -8
Romulus stood by the entrance of the crystal caves, listening to Angel's telepathic message. He shook his head, cursing the stupidity of his situation, and keyed a number into his wrist comm.
Serina, i need a lift. We're leaving.
Within minutes, the Grey Unending was hovering above Romulus. With the Force he leapt into the air and landed in the cockpit.
Pleasant trip i hope, sir?
Meh. Just go.
And the Grey Unending rose towards orbit, leaving the surface of the planet.
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Citadel
Jan 30, 2018 13:33:19 GMT -8
Post by House of D'Ordinii on Jan 30, 2018 13:33:19 GMT -8
==Aim for the Head SL==
<<107PP; R6 Sector, Rhen Var>>
Allowing Drez to take the lead, Kunta maintained the scout spread of the M1s she had been running. She doubted they would get through the front gates without contact, but for the moment everything seemed quiet. Likely the beasts didn't like the cold any more than she did.
-Kunta
To be fair, that would have been true at much shorter time spreads as well. In the chaos after the fall of Palpatine, there was a lot of death. Let's just say there aren't a lot of retired soldiers from those first few decades of forced conscription & warfare.
Kunta's helmet display suddenly lit up with a new icon. Up ahead, near the entrance at the top of the stairs something was moving. The M1's didn't have a clear enough read to engage yet, but they had definitely spotted something. Already mostly on alert, she mentally switched from gossip mode to combat mode in a blink. Her M-CLAW rising into a snug fit against her shoulder & all the various combat readouts that had been tucked away folded out across her field of view.
-Kunta
Buckle up. It is dance time.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2018 19:20:23 GMT -8
"There has always been a lot of death throughout the galaxy. Death cannot be escaped, but it can be cheated." Drez replied as he and his squad set their weapons to kill, each weapon clicking and whizzing. He pressed a button on the side of his helmet and changed his HUD to the millimeter scanner option, the option to detect lifeform behind walls. He wasn't sure weather the Rakghouls were warm blooded or not for him to use the heat sensors, so decided to play it safe.
A shadow moved around them really quick, soldiers jumping around to catch a glimpse of the creature. Drez put his blaster away and pulled out a blue vibroblade, crafted by himself. It was harder to hit a moving target with a blaster. The millimeter scanner alerted him of something sprinting towards him. It was dark in front of him but Drez swung his vibroblade at that moment, splitting something in half while moving out of the way, blood spouting out. The creature fell immediately dead to the ground while the other soldiers got out of the way. The group examined the hideous dead creature.
"That's a Rakghoul alright." Jackie said, shuddering.
"Guess we're on the right track." Vorik remarked. They certainly didn't want to be surprise attacked by Rakghouls.
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