A massive cataclysm has struck the universe, and destroyed most everything in its wake. The survivors are now trying to pick up the pieces, and figure out exactly what has befallen them. Gather together, lightsiders!! The darkness has shattered the peace and calm of the galaxy...and they will do anything to stop anyone from finding out exactly what has been done! This is our first sitewide RP plotline. Lightsiders, you are looking for the source of this massive event. Clues must be found, lackeys tracked down, and bits of memory discovered. Darksiders, you guys don't want that to happen....because of the one behind the whole thing is furthering his ultimate goal. Mandalorians, and non-force users, you guys can decide where you stand on this line....do you side with the Jedi, and try to discover the reasons behind the ruined universe, or will you side with the darkness, and protect those secrets. Will the secret of the cataclysmic reaping be kept under wraps? Or will the Jedi and their allies find out the truth? Your RP and writing will decide the outcome!
BATTLE ARENA
Welcome to The Saga Continues. We have a section called the Battle Arena. Here you can use your characters to fight other characters. Hone your skills and see what you are made of. Don't worry, anything that happens here, does not effect your characters in posts, so if your character dies, you can still use them over and over. Have fun and check it out!
The Saga Continues is the product of the mind of ADMIN ADI; all contents are copyright their original owners. All characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. All images are copyright their original owners. This skin Operation Mindcrime was made by pharaoh leap of Pixel Perfect and put together by ADMIN KRYSTAL
Several hundred kilometers outside of Honoghr's gravity well, a brief and silent flash of light was the only sign of our return to real-space. The Gamma-class shuttle's engines immediately flared to life, propelling the craft toward the planet at a casual quarter speed.
"Unscathed doesn't mean non-existent, but our scanners aren't showing any functioning orbital stations." Ielyn replied tersely.[/ul][/ul]
I think the long journey, cramped in a small space with four murderers, has started to wear on his nerves. He's not the only one; I've spent the last few hours in deep meditation, my consciousness flowing through the ebb and flow of the force rather than remaining trapped within the hull.
It was the only way I could stay sane, after the promise of a reprieve had been snatched away from us on Mandalore. But all is well: this promises to be a most interesting diversion, and a productive one to boot. Not only is the Red Dawn Medical Complex home to the most advanced technology and gifted minds in the field of cybernetics, but, according to my (admittedly depleted) sources, this is also the home of the Jedi's rally point. Survivors of any renown would surely find their way here- after all, Ryu and I did.
A few moments passed in silence, and we edged closer to Honoghr's gravity well. I produced a comlink from within my robes and keyed in a frequency, and within moments the holo of an officer in Imperial Navy garb flickered to life.
[/ul] [/font]
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"Right away." The hologram reached out and began pantomiming keystrokes in empty air.
[/ul][/font] I shrugged. "I wonder if they'll simply snuff one another out? Or perhaps one side will survive, but be so damaged from the fight that they don't have the manpower to retake control. Perhaps sentient life will fade away for a time."
After a moment, the hologram shifted and a tall, spindly insectoid in a lab coat came in view. Despite the difference in species, the expression on his face was one of unmistakable annoyance. "Yes, my Lord?"
"Ah yes, Elisio. I need you to bring the Vindicator into orbit over the city of Nystao on Honoghr. Go ahead and charge shields and weapons as soon as you arrive, and prepare for an orbital bombardment. If we have any fighters left, go ahead and scramble them, then await further orders."
"Are we expecting resistance?"
"Hmm, I'm not sure. Better be on the lookout for it, in any case. If we glean any relevant information it will be relayed to you. See you soon, Elisio."[/font]
Greetings, gentlemen, I'll be your judge this go-round. The brief duration of this duel is going to be mirrored in my judgment- that is to say, I'll keep this short and sweet.
It's unfortunate this bout didn't get to play out to its natural conclusion. I say that both as a judge and as a fight enthusiast: you're both terrific at what you do, and it would've been a pleasure to see how this fight went down. Since that's not the case, and no true hits were scored by either party, I'm forced to use strategy and positioning as my criteria for producing a final judgment.
'The two worst strategic mistakes to make are acting prematurely and letting an opportunity slip...' -Paulo Coelho
Even though Adieumus is no longer a Jedi, his tendency to avoid conflict whenever possible is a deeply ingrained character trait. I'm glad to see that you remained true to character, even when it must have been tempting to use whatever means necessary to get the jump on your opponent- one that we both know can be very dangerous. I give you props for that. However, I referenced the above quote because, while you refused to initiate hostilities, your opponent was maneuvering to a more favorable position. Namely, taking cover behind one of the fighters. While I appreciate really putting yourself in Adi's head (not hard to do, I'm sure, considering how long you've written him), I would have liked to see you busier in the time leading up to the fight. You could have easily maneuvered to keep Ryu in your line of sight, or even closed the gap and entered melee range- what a power move that would have been, hmm?
Ryu, on the other hand, never stopped moving- or talking, for that matter. I enjoyed the banter, I always do, but I found myself impatient for the fight to begin well before the end of the dialogue. You used your time wisely, however, putting yourself behind the fighter and instantly nullifying any ranged threat from your opponent. I don't need to tell either one of you what a huge advantage cover is for a Forceful that utilizes Force Sight, but I will anyway. You're both hidden and protected, and still able to freely observe your opponent and also to strike at will, since your line of sight isn't impaired by physical obstacles. Adi's traditional approach was therefore doomed to fail, but it would have been interesting to see him go with something more unorthodox- Art of the Small, maybe- to try and turn your position to his advantage.
Alas, the fight was cut short- real life has a way of stepping in when it's least convenient, and I know this firsthand- and so we'll never know what could have been.
Based on the situation both fighters were left in when the duel was submitted for judgment, I'm awarding this fight to Ryu.
This duel is the most flawless example of Sokan I've ever seen. Not only did Ryu use his opponent's adherence to Form Zero to maneuver, I'd venture a guess that he played into it in order to buy himself more time. The end result was a character with Force Sight having open access to his foe, while being protected by several tons of steel and fuselage. Not only was this cover demonstrably effective by the way he was able to defend against Adi's saber throw with minimal effort, his counter attack was almost certain to be devastatingly effective- if not in direct damage, then in draining his opponent's force energy and forcing him to jump through hoops to avoid that damage. And that's not to mention the two upset Mandalorians that would be entering the scene in short order. Mandalorians with only one target to focus on, forcing Adi to defend not only against two members of the most advanced warrior race in the galaxy, but to do it with a hostile Sith at his back.
Thank you both for participating in the Battle Arena- this fight got cut short, but I know there will be a rematch, and I can't wait to read it. Ryu, congratulations, Adieumus, better luck next time- despite your opponent getting the high ground, so to speak, your attack showed real ingenuity, and served as a good reminder that you're not to be trifled with, no matter the situation.
Hmm. Either his kick was a feint from the beginning, bait meant to create an opening in my defenses, or the soldier had realized his mistake and utilized incredible agility and control to withdraw the limb before I could amputate it. Either way, it was impressive. This no name trooper might just prove to be an excellent test for Perdition, after all. But the dance continues, and it's time to increase the tempo, don't you think?
I'm already moving, anticipating the strike as his left foot drops behind him, compensating for his forward thrust, and I mirror his movements, weight transferring to my left foot as I backstepped, out of the range of his thrust by a foot or so, and then snapped my wrist forward, sending the forward end of Perdition slicing from my left to right. The six foot blade of crimson plasma lashed out, arcing beneath the phrik weapon of my opponent just as it reached full extension,
If he's unable to compensate in time, my lightsaber blade is long enough to amputate both of the man's legs at the knee without ever bringing the hilt inside his range.
As the distance between us begins to shrink, I take it all in.
Abbadon is massive, a hulking behemoth of corded muscle. Even with my alchemical augmentations, there is no question that he is physically dominant- but not by much, and even so, my crushgaunts are capable of crushing his skull effortlessly. Between them and my mastery of Stava, should this resort to a melee, I'll have a distinct advantage. Still, one wrong move could have dire consequences. I'll have to be cautious in my approach.
At six feet, I step in on my right leg and thrust outward with Perdition, the crimson blade igniting at the signal from my implant and extending to its full six-foot length in a lightning fast thrust toward center of the Sith's breast. I turned as my arm reached full extension, pulling my left shoulder back and blading my body.
The dark side responds to my beckon call with exultation, coursing through my veins like spice.
'Here I come, indeed,' I think, and bare my teeth in a savage smile.
I fell silent for a few moments, contemplating what this sudden redirection could mean. When we hadn't received word in orbit, we'd intended to simply head to the Oyu'baat. I'm only modestly learned in Mandalorian culture, but everyone knew that, if any leadership remained, that's where they would be. So, not only are there Mandalorians still living, but they don't want us around.
Ah, the possibilities are endless, and intrigue never fails to bring a smile to my face. What is it, I wonder? A splinter faction of the Empire has intercepted our transmission, and lures us out away from Keldabe so as to murder us away from the Mandalore's watchful gaze? Or perhaps there are no factions, just desperate survivors driven from Keldabe by the infected, forced to live in hiding?
Or, most interesting proposition of all: the Mandalore is in Keldabe, yet refuses to meet us there. Why not deny us entirely, then? Shoot us out of the sky or run us off the planet? Maybe he wants to meet, but doesn't want to be seen meeting.
Juicy stuff. I chance a glance out the viewport and am rewarded with an endless forest, stretching in all directions. Not quite to our destination yet, then, though at the speed with which our shuttle is moving, the horizon might as well be a mile marker on a freeway.
I turned back to Ryu.
"Partly," I said with a shrug. "Crushgaunts are my first choice, but they're non essential, and certainly not worth a trip by themselves." I trailed off, amusement glittering in my amber eyes.
[/font]I replied with an eager smile, and leaned forward in my seat[/i]. "I had the same thought process. If all one must do to grow their power is increase their individual strengths, then I have no more glaring weakness than my old lightsaber. I've been wracking my brain this entire trip, and I think I've come up with something you'll like.
I mastered the art of fencing, and I've not been bested in a lightsaber duel since becoming a Lapay, but all the same I've outgrown the Way of the Ysalimiri and the weapons best suited to its use. Instead, what I need is something versatile. I won't lie and say that Trogdor didn't provide some inspiration, but I think I've actually managed to improve upon your design.
In the end, it was my original purpose for coming to Mandalore that provided the final piece of the puzzle. I don't have my holopad, or I'd sketch this out, but just imagine this: a saberstaff composed of a phrikite hilt and two high intensity blades, each on an isolated loop and capable of independent ignition. Beneath each emitter would be cruciform hand-guards, made of dense, heavy metals. Both blades would be triple phased- capable of shoto, standard, and extended length- the last being a dramatic increase, something along the lines of six feet."[/font][/font][/ul][/ul] I paused, partly for dramatic effect and partly to wait out the sudden turbulence that sent us all jostling on our bench seats. Made for comfort, these shuttles were not. Ielyn made an apologetic noise from up front, which I ignored. Up until now, what I'd described was unimpressive, borderline run of the mill. But with just a few tweaks, it was capable of becoming something extraordinary, and so I plowed ahead.
"
[/ul][/font] I sat back, a pleased smile on my face, and waited for the applause.
My journey up the Pyre is a long one, each step laden with the weight of the task set before me. Head bowed, I watched my booted feet ascend the obsidian stairs, and wondered if I was making the right choice. The shaping of a Universe is not a task to be taken lightly, after all. Not even by a Lapay. Things were in motion that would affect trillions of sentient lives, and to intervene now would have consequences beyond the comprehension of most mortals.
But...no. This impostor must be cut down. He is a testament to the very weakness he seeks to eradicate, yet blind to the similarities. Normally I don't involve myself in such things- if the Lesser Sith want to follow a craven imbecile, that's their business, but Abbadon's disrespect and misunderstanding of the nature of true power is an affront to the Way, and I will not allow it to stand.
I crested the ziggurat with Perdition already clenched in my right hand, fingers wrapped around the center of the saberstaff's phrikite hilt. My black robes and black hair billowed in the wind as I caught sight of the Sith'ari, but I didn't slow. Quick, direct steps carried me toward him, inevitable and unflinching. The flames burned to my left, reaching out hungrily, anxious to be fed. Grasping and contemptible, I ignore them.
The implied symbolism of this so called sacred zenith is undeserved and overrated.
The black wind of the dark side increased its tempo as I pulled power to myself, amber gaze never moving from my target.
Our progress across the hangar bay is unimpeded. The mercenaries Andor hired made sure of that. With the blaster fire ringing in my ears, I proceed to the lift, expressionless. None of this interests me- teamwork, tactics, strategy. I'm here for him, and him alone. The Lord of Deception has nominated himself as the leader of our merry little band, and that's fine. He has devised a plan to liberate the sentient known as Nemo, and likewise that's fine. None of it pertains to my goal, so how could I have a preference?
Still, I'll have to cooperate with my compatriots for now. I can't hope to kill Ryu while he's surrounded by other Forceful. Hell, it will take something akin to a miracle for me to manage it at all, but that's what makes it so exciting, you see? I thrive on the difficulty such a task poses- the last challenge available to me in a quickly shrinking galaxy.
I stepped into the lift alongside my colleague from the Order of Ruin, and we exchanged a short glance, one that lacked any warmth or trust. I'm fine with that; all I need is for him to do his job, and hold his share of the weight.
[/font][/font][/font] I said as the doors to the lift hissed shut. "Along with a few other Forcefuls. They'll turn the elevator to slag the moment the doors open. I can shield us, but I'll need your strength as well."[/ul]
Without further ado I reach out to touch the dark side, plunging my will into its icy depths and putting it to task. A Force Barrier immediately shimmers into existence, and this time I take a trick out of Ryu's own book. The Barrier takes the form of interlocking hexagonal plates, millimeters thick but infinitely durable and conforming to the doorway of the elevator. My brow furrows as I pour more power into it, and the plates glow brighter. [/font][/font][/font]
The opponents find themselves on opposite sides of the Eternal Pyre, a monument that has seen the consumption of hundreds of Dark Lords and thousands of lesser Sith in a a fiery blaze upon its altar. Shaped as a ziggarat with stairs on all four faces leading up to the flat platform at the top, with sharp stone spears raising at the corners and an altar in the center. Fight well, for the loser's corpse is next to be fed to the flames.
[/font][/font][/font] Ielyn announced. They were the first words he'd spoken since he'd informed us we were about to enter hyperspace, back in Korriban's orbit.[/ul][/ul]
[/font][/font][/font][/ul][/ul]
The big man was slumped in the pilot's chair, expressionless, picking his teeth with one hand and loosely holding the shuttle's control yoke in the other. Occasionally he would wince and shift, trying and failing to get comfortable in his powered armor, but otherwise he hadn't so much as looked back at the quartet he was transporting. I imagine he'd concluded it was safer that way, and I can't blame him. It's lucrative work I've offered him, but for good reason: chances he would survive to retire were slim.
I, on the other hand, have been scrutinizing the Irrukine since our departure a few hours ago. They were fascinating specimens, to be sure. Canine features, extended abdomens, possessed of an obviously higher muscle density, and oh yes, four-armed. They didn't take kindly to my staring, unfortunately.
It had been a long ride.
Standing as we jolted back to real space, I moved to stand behind Ielyn's chair. Slowly, my eyes widened.
[/font][/font][/font] Ielyn breathed.[/ul][/ul]
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Mandalore's orbit was a graveyard. Where once a mighty war fleet had prowled drifted lifeless husks of durasteel. Some were damaged, spilling their innards out into space around them, fuselage and chunks of the hull dragged behind like mechanical gore. Others were simply dark, engines and shields powered down, gliding like a spectre among the ruins of their kin. But I could sense them. Mindless, raging, throwing themselves against bulkheads and viewports: the infected.
[/font][/font][/font] I said to no one in particular. "I had thought...well, never mind what I thought. Better broadcast on all channels, Ielyn, I think everyone on that control station is dead."[/ul][/ul]
[/font][/font][/font] the mercenary muttered. Heaving a sigh, he activated the comms.[/ul][/ul]
I turned away from Roke's nonsensical babbling in time to catch the tale end of the conversation between Ryu and Abaddon: an unsurprising offer to join the Order had been extended, and Ryu, in typical amiable fashion, had accepted. My, but this is like old times, isn't it? Although the Sith'ari has more of a backbone than Raven ever did, and the landscape has changed radically.
Still, no one has the power to stop us from doing whatever we please, and so we enter the cycle: smiles and nods, with those around us left with no choice but to keep playing the game and hope it keeps them safe. It might've been funny the first time around; now it bordered on tedious, and I gestured for Ryu to accompany me.
He blocks my strike without flair, his movements nonetheless competent and fluid. They betray a high level of skill to my experienced eye. I'll need to see more before I know for sure, but I'm struck by the nagging suspicion that this agent is more than he seems. It won't matter in the end; inevitably, he'll fall to my blade. The only question is how long he'll manage to survive.
The blades snarl and shriek as mine grates past his. I'd assumed his weapon would be crafted from lightsaber-resistant materials (most bladed weapons were nowadays, especially those used by spec ops and elite units); now that hunch is confirmed.
I land with my right arm extended and immediately snap my wrist back, bringing the forward end of Perdition arcing toward my left shoulder, and the back blade slashing up and to the right, on a direct intercept course with the agent's extending leg. By the time his foot reaches my knee, my blade will have reached the inside of his thigh.
Ah, he follows. Good. For a moment, waiting within the darkness, I wondered if perhaps he'd thought better of his assignment and retreated. I don't bother reaching out with the Force because frankly, I don't care. If he's full of fear, or steeled resolve, it makes no difference. The only aspect of strength I'm interested in developing at this point is Perdition, and the anticipation is killing me.
So as the beam of light cuts a swath through the darkness, I will the forward emitter to life with a thought. The crimson blade boils out to standard length and I start forward with long, hurried strides. As the distance between us shrinks rapidly, I still have time to pick out a few details about the man: shoddy armor, short blade, visored helmet that could be hosting a sensor suite of some kind. If this was the caliber of special ops that the Republic had to offer, they were even worse off than I thought.
As soon as I'm close enough I launch off my rear (left) leg, right knee coming up at the same time to add momentum to my hop forward. Torso twisting, my left arm swings backward as I thrust my blade forward, aiming for the Republic agent's center mass with the full power of my jump. I'm holding Perdition in the center of the hilt in an overhand grip, and mid-thrust I extend the forward blade to its full length of six feet- staggering the motion and scrambling the timing of my strike.
I land on my right foot, and the reverse side of my saberstaff activates, the blade extending back along the length of my arm, pointing at the darkness behind me.
At this height, the wind was almost loud enough to drown out the whirring of the lift as it rose through the scaffolding. Almost. I watched it ascend from within the Indomitable's hull, brow furrowed. I couldn't make out any of the lone occupant's features at this distance, but their looks are the only thing left a mystery. There is only one motive they can have for being here: word that the Order of Ruin was picking at the bones of this dry dock turned graveyard had reached the Republic, and they had loosed one of their dogs to shoo me away from their scraps.
They would need a lot more than one agent to accomplish that, but I understood their reasoning. One wrong move by either of us could spell disaster for the ship. Construction materials, combustible agents, and cables and struts under thousands of pounds of pressure everywhere you look: a single misstep, and it would all go up in smoke, us included.
I ran one gloved hand back through my short black hair, the micronized besk'ar grating against my scalp, then dropped it down to rest atop the hilt of my saberstaff. The lift finally reached its zenith, the doors sliding open automatically, and I flashed the man a fierce smile. There could be no mistaking the challenge, and no avoiding the threat that I posed.
After a long moment, I turned and retreated ten meters into the ship, boots clicking on the scorched tile. Lightsaber grasped in my right hand but unlit, I set my gaze on the melted remains of the hull, and waited.