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Thread: Mortal Gods: The Demon Moon

  1. #1
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    Mortal Gods: The Demon Moon

    Mortals of gods were often made in myths. They were the punished, the ones hurled from the thrones of the heavens. Fallen gods walked among men, but generally all were eventually restored to their former place among their fellows.

    For above all things, gods are fickle.

    Men never rose to the level of the gods. Always the gods were portrayed as bending down to men, coming to their level, as it were. Gods dallied with mortal women, and sometimes goddesses played with the hearts and affections of men, yet only to the ruin of humanity. Men eventually grew tired of this, and stopped believing in the gods. Without belief, the gods grew powerless, and eventually disappeared.

    For men crave power... and so they reached up and snatched the power from the gods... the power of belief. Man began to believe in himself above all things, and rose to the height of the gods in his own mind, and occasionally in the weaker minds of those around him.

    Yet mortality claims the lives of men, Death takes them away, and their kingdoms crumble around them like so many matchstick houses beside an open flame. Men burn brightly, but quickly.

    Myth joins fact, fiction battles reason for supremecy. Set aside these childish stories, and read the truth of my words.

    The Force is true. The Force is power. The Force can offer you everything you want.

    It can make you a god.

    It can make you more powerful than you can imagine.

    All you have to do is close your hand around what it offers you.

    Give into your hate. The fires of your soul will light the path of your destiny. The Force makes gods out of mortal men.

    Do not be afraid to take what is rightfully yours.



    De'Ville turned over in her bed, the cool sheets sliding over her naked body. Her hand patted the pillow next to hers, feeling it's emptiness, and then drawing it in close to her body and snuggling against it. Her sleep was troubled. It always was. Lately she'd been dreaming about monsters attacking her in her own bedroom, but always awoke to total stillness.

    The Devil's Advocate sliced through hyperspace towards the Onderon system. She'd contacted Mortis already, and they were meeting in the fortified city of Iziz a few days hence.

    Until she arrived, there was nothing to do. The ship ran smoothly without her supervision. The Captain was efficient but not overly demanding on his loyal crew. They'd just had shore leave on Ithor, and were feeling jovial and upbeat about their mistress. She felt like the silent partner. Michel kept her ship and cargo hidden from spying eyes and safe from pirates, and she was very rarely even on board.

    The Revenge was berthed in the fighter bay, occupying a corner of a room full of spaarti cloning cylinders. Half full, anyway. Paladin had just taken a second load of parts off her hands. Soon she would show him her true wealth. But not yet. He was salivating, almost begging for the hook that would bind him to her. She would enjoy it.

    He was useful.

    The Dark Jedi restlessly turned over, shoving the pillows away from her and thrashing about in the bed a bit trying to get comfortable. Onderon... She'd done her research, with Silus. It wasn't exactly a vacation spot. They called its moon, Dxun, the Demon Moon. It was home to wildlife so deadly and horrible that only a heavily fortified and defended city like Iziz could keep out the beastial enemy.

    Some planet dwellers had tamed the beasts, but not all of them, and not enough, certainly. Yearly the Demon Moon dipped close enough in orbit to share atmosphere with Onderon. Yearly the beasts migrated and strengthened the numbers on the planet.

    Daily the humans and other beings on the planet fought for survival.

    Lilaena sat up, and called an object off her desk towards her with the Force. The metallic cylinder smacked firmly against her palm and her fingers closed around it. This scroll was the secret to something. Its runes meant nothing to her... she didn't have an eye or an ear for languages, and Sith runes were difficult at best. Yet these were unlike any she'd ever seen or studied. She hoped that Gav Mortis would be able to decipher them.

    Onderon was once home to the Dark Jedi Freedon Nadd. He had been destroyed many times by the Jedi, and then once more, finally, by Exar Kun himself. Lilaena's lips curled up in a half smile, snuggling back down into her sheets. She fell asleep once more with the metal scroll tucked in close to her heart.



    oh what a tangled web I weave


  2. #2
    Gav Mortis
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    Three days remained. Three days, thought Gav miserably. He was currently celebrating the Season of Junstrunga but it was celebrating unlike anything he'd ever felt before and in fact it was more like torture than any form of celebration. He had been awake for fourty-eight hours solid and had another seventy-two to go before he could get some sleep. The Sith had learned of this long forgotten tradition in the ice caverns of Ziost and now he wished that they had remained forgotten but unfortunately, you can't pick and choose which parts of your faith you will abide by.

    Junstrunga was an ancient priest who had prophesised the day in which the Gods of his people would descend from the skies and tear the world apart, gathering their faithful followers and disposing of the unfaithful in a bloody massacre. Despite being a well respected man, Junstrunga lost all credibility with his last prophecy and his people turned their backs on him. The Gods saw the actions of the high priest as an act of treason and cursed him to a life without sleep. Some say that the priest went mad but others claim they saw him climbing the highest mountain into heaven several years later. He was never seen again.

    It was believed by many that Junstrunga had spent his final waking years in preparation for the day of judgement and on the day he prophesised the coming of the Gods he ascended into heaven and challenged Niobath, the God of Justice. That night, the golden temple of Niobath was struck by lightning and burned to the ground but the molten gold was replaced by a pool of blood and a new temple was errected in it's place, the Temple of Junstrunga, the God of Judgement. Those who believe the tale celebrate his ascension into heaven by spending twenty five days without sleep in honour of the sacrifice he made.

    Perhaps one day, the Sith thought, deactivating his lightsaber and wiping sweat from his brow, all the faithful will take their place next to the seat of the Gods. And others, they will take their rightful seat like Junstrunga. Leaving the cargo bay, he climbed a ladder which lead to the bridge of his ship. The astrogation panel showed that there were two days left to his journey, he'd have one last day to remain awake and then he'd have two days of sleep to enjoy. He doubted De'Ville would be thrilled by his company.

  3. #3
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    "We're dropping out of hyperspace just outside the Japrael system, as you asked."

    De'Ville shifted a stack of papers to find her comlink. "Very good, I will be up to the bridge shortly, Captain." She squared the edges of the papers, and placed the scroll in a locked drawer. The complicated key was on a chain which she put around her neck, letting it fall down under her shirt. She felt the ship reverting to real space under her feet, and she held onto the bolted down chair until the Devil's Advocate was still once more.

    Getting to her feet, Lilaena straightened her clothes and then began the seven minute trip up towards the bridge. The crew members she passed nodded respectfully, but didn't stop what they were doing. She entered a turbolift and let it carry her up to the bridge.

    "Ah, my Lady." Michel Delving got to his feet. "I was just about to call you."

    "Oh?" She walked crisply across the polished floor and stopped near the captain. "Have I almost missed something?" In front of the ship the Japrael system stretched out like an artists canvas. She could see the tiny shape of Onderon's moon as a dark spot against the Japrael star.

    "Ah, well, not exactly. But there's another ship. The Dragon." He raised an eyebrow.

    She smiled. "He must have come straight here, while I had to make a few stops."

    "Excuse me, my Lady?" He looked politely disinterested. "I was just about to respond."

    "Ah, yes of course. Captain Delving, please inform the pilot of the Dragon that we are proceeding on sublights to Onderon. He can microjump if he so desires."

    "Very good. Ensign Copper, relay the Lady's message to the Dragon. Helm, take us in towards the main planet at three quarters speed." He sat down comfortably in the captain's seat, adopting the angle of repose that said he was perfectly comfortable in his position. And that while he was relaxed, he was also sure of himself and ready to give orders.

    De'Ville took the lesser seat, watching Onderon grow larger in the viewscreen.

  4. #4
    Mandalore
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    Death. That is what this place was, above all things. Onderon was death. Whether it was the death of another or your own, death was a constant facet of life, ironically.

    It had been millennia since the Great Defeat. Never before had the Mandalorians tasted such bitter wine. Never again, either. With defeat came eternal consequence. Banishment. The last vestiges of Mandalore's followers had their ranks broken by the guardians of the Jedi Order...and they were thrown to circumstance on the planet of beasts. Onderon was the quintessential Tantalus nightmare. To the zenith of the night sky came the beasts of the Demon Moon. Every night for thousands of years, the followers of Mandalore fought pitched battles against the beastly hordes. Every night, they endured. On the surface and to the north, the walled city of Iziz taunted the followers of Mandalore, like an apple perched on a high branch, beyond the grasp of a starving man. Eternally, it seemed the Mandalorians were doomed to be tormented. Yet, so often history is changed by slow and inexorable things.

    Aexar stood alone, in the darkness...away from his brothers-in-arms.

    Now, he was more than Aexar. He was now Mandalore. It had happened all too suddenly. On the eve of their greatest victory in recent memory, Aexar and the former Mandalore had reached an impasse over strategy. Mandalore had risen to the crest of the wave of blood by brute strength. Aexar, Mandalore's General, was perhaps lesser in steel, but far greater in wit. Indeed, he had long decided that the old Mandalore's successes against the barbarians of Iziz was due entirely to his cunning alone. Mandalore had ascended to the apex by the tip of a sword, but so often such warriors die by such a sword.

    Aexar...Mandalore smiled. He did not hate his dead master. He was simply weaker, and in the end, fate had shown his fate to all. There was no quarrel made upon the old Mandalore's death. In the end, it was the way things had been since memory could serve him. Only the hardest iron survived the forge...and the fire was most fierce at the tip of the spear. No doubt there were many amongst the Mandalorians who eyed him even now, awaiting the day to best him and claim leadership.

    But that day would not be today, and his leadership was paramount.

    In the darkness, the new Mandalore contemplated his decisions. Soon, his ranks would be prepared for yet another assault against the walls of Iziz, as they had done for hundreds of years. Though the walls remained steadfast, the Mandalorians did not relent. Indeed, each cadre of warriors seemed poised to stand upon the shoulders of their ancestors, and eclipse the very concept of greatness. Though he never turned his back on any of them, Mandalore trusted their skills inherently. Perhaps Jedi steel was harder than Mandalorian 4000 years ago. Now...it seemed absurd to think of such things.

    As Mandalore contemplated such things, a bright light in the sky caught his eye, streaking down from the heavens.

    Offworlders.

    Mandalore scowled. They were fodder. If the beasts did not devour them, if his brothers did not destroy them...then perhaps they were sturdy enough stock to become slaves. Maybe in generations, their progeny could even don the armor of a Mandalore, though this was an utmost rarity. In the end, every offworlder that Mandalore had seen...had perished.

    The warrior donned his helmet, turned away from the spectacle, and blasted off across the sky, his rocket pack creating a trail of afterglow as he accelerated toward his brothers' camp.

  5. #5
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    Muffled impacts echoed down the hallways of the Dragon. Sometimes the simplest of tools provided the best stimulation. On his hands he wore two black padded gloves, the one on his right hand more than his left. The extra padding was necessary though. The durasteel bone structuring in his right hand had proved to reak havoc on the heavy leather punching bag.

    Silus had been working the bag over for nearly ten minutes now. The workout was equally mental as it was physical, letting the Dark Jedi pound his frustrations into it. This made his temper more easily controlled. He felt sharper now than he had in a long time. It showed in his attitude. If there was one thing that Silus was, it was cocky, and this was amplified by his growing strength.

    He had an important few days ahead of him now, and he was looking forward to whatever might come in the proceedings. Lilaena had left without notice, but more likely than not, she would be expecting him. Some things didnt need words

    After a few more punches, the heavy thud of his hands hitting the bag were halted by the clanking of metal hitting metal, in the rhythm of footsteps.

    "Sir, we've made contact with the Devil's Advocate, They will be continuing their course to Onderon at sublight speed."

    Silus tossed his gloves aside and took a drink of water as the silver colored protocol droid awaited his response.

    "Follow their course, and have my shuttle ready to land. And tell T25 to keep on stand by. I dont know how friendly the good people of Onderon will be. This ship has too many straight lines and sharp angles...."

    "Yes sir."

  6. #6
    Gav Mortis
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    One day left. Just one day.

    The Sith sat lifelessly in his quarters, his eyes were empty, bloodshot and lined with dark rings and occassionally his pupils would shrink when he'd look to his bedside light. That would keep him awake but it didn't shake off the feeling of being submerged underwater; it was so quiet and cold, the low humming of his ships hyperdrive sounded like it were coming from a distant source. The room tilted and turned before his eyes and he'd blink so hard his face would scrunch up. He did this before he had to stand, just like now.

    A faint whining sound had broke his daydreaming and slowly, painfully he turned his head. An orange light had turned itself on and the panel was flashing. His eyes watered and with great effort he stood. Mundabe's Comet had pulled out of hyperspace and he had arrived, finally, at the Japrael System. Every step was an effort and slowly he trudged into the bridge, the lights were already low as per his specifications two days previous.

    He was in his chair now, staring at the broad viewscreen in front of him. There shone Onderon and it's moon, silent and still. The planet beckoned him closer. Somewhere down there was a comfortable bed just for him. The edges of his mouth curled upwards in an estranged grin as he stared fixedly at his destination.

    "Computer--" He croaked. His eyes opened wide and he sat upright with suprise, he blinked several times and rubbed his face. "--drop shields and approach destination at three quaters."

  7. #7
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    The Devil's Advocate requested and recieved permission to enter a high orbit. There weren't any other big ships in the area, barring the Dragon, and Iziz Control sounded slightly surprised, as though they didn't get visitors very often.

    With their track record it wasn't surprising. De'Ville had scrounged up all the recent information on the planet and it appeared to be locked into some sort of civil war. The fortified city of Iziz rebuffed all attacks. It was the only city on the planet strong enough to withstand the yearly migration of flying beasts from Dxun. The smaller cities, if her information was correct, had relocated thousands of years ago to Iziz, making it the only recorded sentient city on the surface of the planet.

    It was huge. From orbit she could see the clearly defined borders of the settlement, built to repel the blood thirsty attacks of the creatures. Iziz City gave them permission to land the Revenge inside the city, explaining that the timing was vital, as they would have to open a hole in their defenses to let the ship through. Captain Delving agreed, and turned to De'Ville.

    "My lady, allow me to send my best pilot with you. For appearances if nothing else."

    "Very good, Captain." She got to her feet, straightening her clothing. "Then I will be in contact with you in twenty-four hours. If you do not hear from me then, you know what to do."

    "Certainly, my Lady. May the Force be with you." He snapped up to attention as she left the bridge.

    It took about ten minutes to get the ship ready to launch, the preflights already being run by an enterprising young ensign. He looked a little afraid of her, so she stayed in her cabin for the short journey. There were a few slight bumps, and then the pilot called over the comm, "My lady we have landed."

    "Thank you Ensign. I do not think I have to tell you to remain with the Revenge." Lilaena pulled on a cloak, pulling the hood over her hair, and joined him by the hatch as he opened it for her. "I will contact you in twenty-four hours if not before. If I do not, then you will have to come looking for me."

    His eyes got a little wide at that, and she added a wink. The ensign dissolved into a nervous grin, as she walked down the ramp, into the walled city of Iziz.

  8. #8
    Mandalore
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    "Do you see that, Saricus?"

    Mandalore gazed across the horizon, eyes enshrouded behind his helmet, vision enhanced many times over by sensitive macrobinoculars. In an instant, his subordinate did the same.

    "Offworlders....coming to Iziz?"

    "How many cycles has it been since the last came?"

    "Two, Mandalore. But none I can remember have come willingly, nor to the walled city itself."

    Mandalore lingered on the distant spectacle a moment longer before turning away from it. Saricus followed close behind, understanding that his leader was in deep contemplation, over both the bizarre turn of events, and the greater precipice of impending action that was to take place.

    "We found another rider."

    Mandalore stopped.

    "Another?"

    "Yes. The patrols from Iziz intensify."

    Saricus walked with Mandalore back to the ad-hoc camp. Several armor-clad figures nodded at their approach, and went silently back to their business, of which the disproportion of it was honing their myriad weapon systems. Eventually, they arrived at a light, pre-fabricated tent. Saricus threw the curtain back, to reveal a bloodied and bound man.

    "He approached from the north." Saricus spoke, looking down at the man.

    "An obvious probe. We are too well defended there. Nevertheless, I intend to break camp at the moon's zenith. Alert the warriors."

    Saricus rapped a fist against his chest armor and nodded curtly.

    "Honor commands, Mandalore."

    As Saricus departed, Mandalore looked down to the scout.

    "Are you prepared to die for your cause?"

    The scout, wide-eyed, spoke in muttered whisperes, pleading for his life to be spared. From Mandalore's right wrist gauntlet, two razor-sharp prongs ejected and curved inward slightly.

    Mandalore never took prisoners.

    As the silent supercommandos prepared to disappear into the night again, a scream echoed, and was quickly silenced, drowned out by the howls of the beasts in the distance.

  9. #9
    Gav Mortis
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    "State your business and identify yourself." The voice sounded crisp coming from the comms panel. Gav winced and shifted in his seat. He leaned in close to the panel to his right.

    "This-- ahem-- this is Gav Mortis of 'Mundabe's Comet' and I am here to meet a friend." His thumb and forefingers massaged his closed eyes while he waited for a response.

    "Does your ship have a cloaking device, Gav Mortis?" Came the reply, the man's voice sounded unsure. Gav understood although wished the conversation would hurry up and end.

    "A cloaking device of sorts. That's why your sensors didn't read my ship until I lowered my shields. Rest assured, I have no hostile intentions."

    "Very well." Concluded the operator after a moments silence. "Land in docking bay twelve."

    "Thanks." Gav terminated the transmission with relief and altered his flight patern to make for the appropriate docking bay. His piloting of the ship was somewhat shaky, his hands tremored involuntarily and his vision was a little blurred but with a little help from a tractor beam for guidance, he made it. He opened a comlink with the operator once more.

    "So where the hell am I?"

  10. #10
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    The shuttle itself could have easily been considered a starfighter. It wasnt nearly as small as a TIE, but it packed a punch. It was large enough to comfortably seat two people and had small cargo space for luggage.

    Silus got his landing instructions and brought the ship down. As he landed, he made note of the location of the tractor beam puling him in. Details like that were second nature to him.

    A few minutes later, he was in the main breezeway with a bag slung lazily over his shoulder as he waited to catch site of Lilaena.

  11. #11
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    She strode up from the docking bay, her cloak flapping around her heels as she entered the main breezeway. A familiar figure was leaning against the wall, bag slung over his shoulder. Lilaena smiled in spite of herself, and picked up her pace a little.

    "Ah you beat me here." They were quite alone in the passageway - apparently Onderon didn't get many visitors. She stretched up for a kiss, her hood falling back away from her face. "Ready to meet Gav Mortis?"

    He was ready with a smart aleck response, but she turned to look behind her at another figure coming up from the docking areas. Mortis looked like he'd been dragged behind a hysterical taun-taun for a few miles.

    "Ah...Gav, this is Silus Xilarian. Silus, Ga-"

    She was interrupted by sirens erupting around them. "What the hell?"

  12. #12
    Mandalore
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    <font size=7>KABOOOOOOM!!!</font>

    A salvo from a long-range particle cannon caught one of the warming up shield generator spires sleeping, incinerating it in a plume of fire, and raining debris all around the wall's perimeter. There were dozens more, but it was a chink in the armor. Grazing the crest of the nearby mountains, they came. Mandalorian warriors, mounted on Basilisk war droids. The vanguards dove down, drawing the Iziz defensive fire upon them, until they delivered their shock cannon barrage at close range, and barreled skyward with break-neck velocity, skimming dangerously close to the city walls. The higher-flying war droids dove downward, raking the exposed portion of the city skyscape with laser fire that eviscerated those unlucky enough to stand in its path.

    At the tip of the spear, Mandalore righted his cybernetic steed, and gestured downward.

    "Deploy the acolytes!"

    The brush and trees on the periphery of Iziz came alive, as scores of rocket engines ignited, tearing through the dusk sky in thunderous successions. The armored acolytes poured over the walls, following a few dozen Basilisk war droids, but they were now facing stiffening resistance inside.

  13. #13
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    In a moment's notice, the whole place had gone to hell in a handbasket. Outside, Silus could hear people yelling, mixed with the distinct sound of ground troops running.

    "Something's attacking the city...."

    Instintively, he pulled one of his sabers, leaving it disengaged for the moment.

    "Maybe we should come back when they arent so busy..." he quipped.

  14. #14
    Gav Mortis
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    Gav winced when the thunderous explosion shook the city, almost naucious from the racket he worked hard to steady himself, a hand rubbed his forehead. He was clearly irritated and took off down the hall to get out of the visitors centre and into some fresh air.

    "They must've seen you coming, De'Ville." He called back to the woman, wearing a thin smile. He winced again as another volley was launched and impacted. "Perfect timing, just perfect timing."

  15. #15
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    De'Ville looked above them at the ceiling as something nearby exploded and shook the walls around them. "Maybe we should get out where we can see something." She put a hand on Silus' arm, gently pushing his lightsaber down, and then shot Mortis a glance. He looked like hell, stumbling up the corridor away from them.

    She quickly walked after him, her eyes adjusting to the daylight. There didn't seem to be a lot going on where they were, but on the walls...

    The Dark Jedi turned slowly, taking in the immense walls and defences mechanisms that surrounded the city. With the naked eye it was impossible to see the entire wall, as it stretched a few hundred kilometers away, but they had entered through part of it, and that part was quite close. As she watched, an explosion rocked the ground, and duracrete and steel burst apart near the top of the wall. A metallic creature...droid? was coming over it.

    Iziz defenses were springing into action to repel the attack. She pointed, "Is that what I think it is? A Basilisk?"

  16. #16
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    "I think you're right. I saw some mention of it in one of the books in your study."

    Silus sidestepped a little, putting himself slightly in front of Lilaena as he looked out at the battle. It was fierce, and chaotic. From his vantage point, Silus couldnt tell which side looked to winning, if either...

    "I think it might be smart if we get some better cover....I dont have much clue as to whats going on here..."

  17. #17
    Gav Mortis
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    "I hope we'll still have a place to stay once this skirmish is over and done with." Gav grumbled, stepping out into the sunlight. His face twisted into a visage of discomfort and he brought his hand up over his narrowed eyes. "Frell them, if they come over here they've had it - all this noise, there's no need for it!"

    Trudging onward, Gav attempted to scale a pile of rubble, a product of a recently collapsed edifice of some sort, it looked like it had been a military post. Two bloodied bodies were strewn lifeless across the cracked floor. Gav stumbled and dropped his comlink, with a curse he kneeled down just in time to avoid a large boulder soaring straight for his head, it flew by unnoticed and he fished further into the broken duracrete slabs.

    "Ah, here we go." He climbed to his feet once more and shot an approaching Mandalorian with his blaster pistol. The warrior's cries were silenced and he slumped down to the ground. Gav pocketed his comlink and holstered his blaster once more. He turned back to De'Ville and Silus, a pained look on his face. "Can we get out of the road, please?"

  18. #18
    Mandalore
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    "GRRRAH!!!"

    An Iziz sentryman was cleaved across his chest. Mandalore kicked the dying man from his gauntlet prongs, dropping him to the rubble-filled street. His feet returned to the stirrups of his Basilisk, the droid buzzing intuitively as it sprang upward, missing a raking barrage of return fire. Two other Basilisks hit the flank of the autocannon hard, obliterating it. As Mandalore and his chosen warriors sought out the more formidable defenses, the Acolytes charged forward, saturating the nearby plaza in blaster fire. The initial counterattack was inadequate against the Acolytes' armor. Shots that hit home dented the armor in slightly, but had no substantial effect.

    "Saricus, to the next generator! Ride hard!"

    The armored Mandalorian on the basilisk nearest to him nodded curtly, and his droid-beast blasted off in a powerful leap. In his wake, a score of Acolytes followed, their rocket packs screaming across the sky. One paused, loosing a large missile on his jetpack towards a long-haired man out in the open.

  19. #19
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    De'Ville felt it happen before the missile was launched, and dove into Mortis, tumbling the grumpy Sith Master out of the path of the missile and into an alleyway. Silus took cover on the other side of the street, and the missile exploded in a shower of molten metal, and flaming debris.

    She untangled herself from Gav, and grinned a little breathlessly. "Yes, I think we can get out of the road now." Lilaena looked across the way, but couldn't see Xilarian through the holocaust that had been the street. She could feel his familiar presence nearby, which abated her momentary concern for his saftey. "Xilarian will find us, but I think we should find some better cover."

    Gav looked a little like Jax when he missed his afternoon nap. He pulled himself to his feet as De'Ville looked back over her shoulder...in time to see one of the Acolytes turn into their alleyway. The being loosed a volley of blaster bolts in the pair's direction, and she ignited her saber with a snap-hiss, deflecting the bolts harmlessly away.

  20. #20
    TheHolo.Net Poster

    And so I'm back, from outer space. You just walked in to find me here with that sad look upon my face


    Has been a member for 5 years or longer


    Join Date
    May 2002
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    James
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    The blast had nearly caught Silus flatfooted, as he was about to make a short remark about leaving the street. No surprise really, his mouth usually got him into more trouble than anything. He felt the danger heading their way, though he really wasnt sure what it was. Seeing Lilaena's shadow move was enough to spur him into action though.

    Diving in the opposite direction of Lilaena, he ended up on the far side of the street. He completed his dive with a roll, and ended up in the entrance way to a building. Lilaena and Gav were scrambling off in another direction already, and trying to catch up to them now would most likely succeed into attracting more attention to them all. Instead, Silus stepped into the building, a small resturant, and headed for the back door.

    As he came out the other side, he caught site of the royal tower..

    Hmmmm, there's an idea....

    The tower was roughly a half a mile away, and though it probably had the best defenses, it would be a focal point. Checking left and right, Silus made his way across the next street, trying to stay covered by the nearby buildings.

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