Knights of the Old Republic: Rise of the Reavers

[General Havoc]

The pain was the stuff of legends, but even it was dwarfed by the anger Ryassek felt. Not so much directed at the insignificant thug that had shot him, but at himself.

How in the hell could he be so stupid?

First things first though.

He spun around as he fell, and used the pain of the blaster bolt as fuel to throw a telekenetic blast at the thug who had shot him. He was unsubtle about it, simply flinging his pain at the human like a wrecking ball. The very catwalks shuddered with the force of his assault, but he did not remain there long enough to ascertain the result, rolling to one side and ducking briefly out of sight.

Under his breath, he cursed and cursed again. How could he be so foolish as to permit himself complacency! How could he let such a thing happen! Six inches to the right and he would be dead forever at the hands of a pissant thug looking to earn his daily blood money. And while he had lived, he had lost his lightsabre! That it was irrevocably gone was clear beyond a shadow of doubt, for it had plunged into the Pit, and he was clearly to be afforded no time to search for it.

He snarled as he felt at the wound, the cauterized flesh still smoking from where he'd been shot. He would live, but he could no longer so casually destroy all comers, not after this. It was time to beat a tactical retreat, and find that other Force User, the one who had claimed to be a Jedi. From somewhere below and to his left he could hear continued fire and explosions, and there was Force being wielded there as well, different than the stark illuminations of a Sithling, something calmer, something alien...

Could these actually have been Jedi?

He took the fallen Force-Adept's sabre from his coat. Once his trophy, he now had no choice but to employ it as his weapon. It illuminated blue, pale and solid, a natural crystal emanation, not the flashing iridescence of a Sith blade. The handle was curved, not to his liking, and heavier than he prefered in a lightsabre, but he had been the one so incomparably idiotic to lose his own damned sabre, putting up with the dead Hortek's preferences was a small penalty to pay, in the long run. Perhaps he would have time to modify it later.

His right arm was of no use, but Makashi taught the art of wielding a sabre with the offhand at need, and this certainly qualified. He would have to fall back on his force powers, which, if anything, were enhanced by the pain. He consoled himself for a moment with the thought that he had slain eleven armed enemies today, which was not a record, but close, but stopped himself from further consolation. He did not want to 'feel better' right now, he wanted to be angry and full of self-reproaching wrath. These were tried and true Sith methods, more orthodox than he normally liked to use, but right now it was time to simply survive. They would do.

And so, with his emotions flaying the very air around him, Ryassek set out after the Hortek Force-Adept, moving as quickly as he could down alleys and behind buildings, willing to kill anything that got in his path, but his priorities shifted from mere bloodlust to escape.

And when he found the so-called Jedi, he would see what he would see.

[Hotfoot]

Zyke moved double time to catch up with the heavies, his lighter frame and gear allowing him to move with somewhat more celerity than his compatriots. As he caught sight of the lightsaber in the reptilian's hands, his eyes narrowed. This was the target, almost certainly. "We're not here for Sith, Set. You're our pickup, and you're in bad shape. How fast can you move?"

[Comrade Tortoise]

"I mentioned them only to say that there might be some rather unfriendly individuals appearing shortly. I can travel as fast as you need me to. The injuries look bad, but none of them are serious."

[General Havoc]

There was a blur of motion, and then something landed a dozen paces away from the four mercenaries and one Jedi, landed hard enough to shake the catwalk they were all standing upon. And when those with a mind to turned to see what had intruded on their solitude, they beheld a small figure crouched down with one hand on the catwalk itself and the other held inside his long coat. A glance upwards would confirm that whoever this figure was, must have leaped down from one of the overhead catwalks, a fall of at least twenty feet.

The figure remained motionless for a second, stabilizing himself from the leap, and then lifted his head to reveal a Rodian, a white Rodian, with bloodshot red eyes, cowled with the hood of his coat. Slowly he stood up, smaller than any of the others present, (to say nothing of the Wookie), but with every evidence of calm deliberation behind his actions. His eyes fell on each of the other figures in turn, taking them in, their armor, grenades, and enormous weapons, as well as the expressions on their faces, for no doubt if they did not know what he was, they were probably guessing fairly close to the mark.

But there was nothing for that.

"I believe we were interrupted," said Ryassek aloud, his Basic flawless, and inflected with Coruscanti dialect. "There are many disturbances in the Force in this place, but none so rare as a Jedi..." He seemed to peer at the Hortek for a moment. "That is, if you are a Jedi," he added.

"So what am I to make of two Jedi who are become one, and then five? Surely you are not all Bounty Hunters, or you would have shot him on sight."

[frigidmagi]

Dewaddki brought his heavy repeat up and sighted on the new guy's chest. He didn't like being dropped in on.

"ohacraao aoacwo acwoanan ahc aoacraao rawhwa waoo ah cacooooao ahao?" He growled softly to Zyke ignoring the Jedi. If it was a force user he had a pair grenades still on him, frag worked wonders on stubborn force users.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Asarak moved to interpose himself between his rescuers and the Albino-Sith and shifted his stance in the Makashi guard stance. He called upon the Force the flow around him like a shield to protect against hostile Force powers, and opened his mind to the Knowledge granted by the Force and his own natural telepathy to allow him to predict his opponents movements. Asarak was only so good at defending against gunmen, far better at fighting other force users.

"Yes, I am Jedi. Dark One" he specified he too did not know this one's allegiance with any true certainty

" I imagine they are not bounty hunters at least not in the strictest sense, but rather individuals hired by the republic to get me out of this cesspit I have been hiding on." He said through his own guard.

"Now that I have answered your question, you get to answer mine. What are your intentions?" It was then that he felt a resonance in the Force.

"You also have something that belongs to me. A Lightsaber, it was my masters before I loaned it to Melek. If your intentions are not hostile, I would ask that you give it back after... The other comes. As a sign of good faith if nothing else."

[General Havoc]

Ryassek began to laugh.

"My intentions," he said, "are, among other things, to remain alive. A prospect which does not involve me disarming myself in the presence of four heavily armed mercenaries and a Jedi."

He seemed to regard the suggestion that he should yield up the lightsabre as a sign of good faith to be a particularly amusing joke.

"Jedi are rare on," the briefest hesitation, "cesspits like this. And despite my best efforts, you have drawn more attention with your very presence than I could by spilling blood in buckets. Powerful entities appear to be interested in ensuring that you do not leave this planet alive. The bounty on Jedi is high, but I wonder if there is not something else at work here?"

He grinned in a very Rodian manner.

"My name is Ryassek," he said, keeping his left arm inside his coat while his right hung at his side. The blaster-burn on his right shoulder was easily apparent, but he drew no attention to it. "And I wonder what could possibly bring a Jedi powerful enough to have an apprentice to a 'cesspit' such as this planet... and what could induce the Republic to hire mercenaries as well-armed as these to extract him at the cost of so much blood?"

[Comrade Tortoise]

"I am Asarak. Melek was not my apprentice. He was a sith I turned years ago. We were the sole survivors after a base we were at was bombarded by sith. We escaped on a shuttle and went to the safest place in range of its hyperdrive. We hid here from sith and bounty hunters for five years, using the seething Force which runs strong here to mask our presence. The republic is extracting me because there are only a handful of Jedi left after the war. That means even Padawans are valuable. Honestly... You just came on a bad day." He seemed to furrow his brow a bit as if considering how best to proceed. Trying to turn this one wouldnt work yet. The conflict within him was plain as day.

"In any case, We should probably get going before the person who feels through the Force to be a spiky ball of anger and hatred comes. I would have asked for your disarming conditional on potentially successful negotiations to allow you to take Melek's place and let the Jedi Council decide your fate. However seeing as you have pre-empted that idea with a refusal... I cannot very well do that. However I daresay, you probably would have an easier time staying alive that way. Have fun with the bounty hunters." His tone was not angry. It was up-beat. Even slightly cheerful.

He did not turn away from the Rhodian, but looked back at his newfound companions.

"While I would love to stay and get acquainted, we really do need to go. There is someone strong in the Dark Side coming and he means us dead"

[LadyTevar]

"Don't shoot him yet, since the Jedi's negotiating," Trys replied to Dewaddik before the others could. "In my opinion, leaving him behind is not a good idea either, as he'd know where Master Asarak vanished and would probably sell him out."

"Your call, Duty. I am having Zeke's baby relink to the Sunrise now. If you and the others can go up one level, I can meet you at this point..." she sent coordents for a space large enough for the Sunrise to hover just long enough to drop the ramp and load them up. "Give me the mark, and I'll be there."

[General Havoc]

This wasn't a Jedi. This was some kind of impostor. Or perhaps it was a Jedi who had gone insane. Ryassek felt an almost palpable disappointment, coupled with the realization that he should have expected nothing less. The Jedi were essentially extinct after all. He wondered idly if the Republic knew they'd been cheated.

He wondered less idly if the mercenaries did.

Still he did have a lightsabre, and unquestionably was strong in the Force. Perhaps he shouldn't be too quick to judge. After all, it wasn't like he had met so many Jedi to compare this Hortek too.

"You brought this on me, Jedi," he said. "You drew the Bounty Hunters to me, and having done so, you would presume to disarm me and drag me before your council, or instead abandon me to my death?" He seemed almost amused. "I can see that I have been terribly mis-informed as to the nature of the Jedi. I was told that the Jedi code required them to defend the innocent. And after all, what crime have I committed, save for picking up your friend's lightsabre and defending myself against the assailants you brought down on my head?"

He smiled and shook his head, apparently finding the concept to be funny.

"I have a proposal for you instead," he said. "One of course that I extend to all of you: I will keep this new weapon of mine, and employ it as I would any other tool. And as I have... largely worn my welcome out on this planet, thanks to you, I will leave here aboard your ship when it arrives, whereupon, once you are headed to wherever it is you are going, I will inform you of which planet along the way you may drop me off on."

Ryassek slid the unlit sabre out of his coat and fiddled with it, ready should the Hortek try to tear it from his grasp.

"Do this," he continued with a shark-like grin, "and in exchange, not only will I permit you to leave this planet in one piece, I will actually assist you in leaving, as I have a feeling that the powers that be on this planet are prepared to go to some lengths to ensure you do no such thing. And the prospect of causing them to fail... amuses me."

He chuckled softly to himself.

"Do it not," he said, "and everyone standing here, myself included, will die."

He let that sink in for a second, before laughing out loud.

"Oh I can't kill you all myself," he said. "But since you seem to be prepared to abandon me to my death at the hands of bounty hunters you stirred up, I really don't see why I shouldn't try, and I'm fairly certain I can take one of you before the rest of you strike me down. Jedi aren't the only ones who die hard, after all."

His expression suddenly turned deathly serious. "But more importantly, before I am killed, I will emit a burst of pain, anger, and hatred so intense that every Force Sensitive within a hundred miles will come straight to this spot, like a moth to a flame, including whoever this Dark Side Force wielder is who wishes you dead. And given that you will already have been weakened in fighting me, I have no doubt that he will succeed in getting what he wishes. We can be damnably efficient when out minds are put to it."

He let that one sink in too before smiling again and crossing his arms, ready to ignite the lightsabre in a split second if either his eyes or his feelings sensed the sudden emotional twinge that signaled the intent to kill on the part of any one of the mercenaries or the Jedi.

"So, essentially, either all of us leave, or all of us die. I leave the decision as to which... in all of your hands."

[Cynical Cat]

Whatever response Ryassek's threat might have produced from the others was preempted by a pair of blaster bolts hitting the railing near the heretic Sith and sending sparks and chips of white-hot metal flying.

Ryassek's threat was pointless. Threel already knew where they were, but the idea of taking on the entire group single handed did not appeal to the adept. So he waited until Marder joined up with him and the droids arrived.

Three groups of four converged on the Jedi and his companions. One directly ahead and another to either side. They were Cyrus Systems Mark 4 heavy infantry droids armed with the well respected Howlden Tech HT-3 Blaster rifle. The Mark 4's were 1.9 meters tall, broad, and covered with sloped and angled heavy armour plate that gave them excellent protection from ricocheted and glancing hits from high powered blaster bolts, projectile weapons, and vibro weapons. Redundant systems and back ups allowed them to continue to fight despite taking multiple penetrating shots.

Drifting behind and above the group directly ahead of them were three refit Mass Mover Systems MN-6 mining droids, their heavily armoured shells equipped with new droid brains and their mining equipment removed in favor of weapons. They appeared to be one meter diameter black floating spheres with several different red eye photo receptors. The muzzles of a pair if rapid fire pulse-wave carbines protruded from the front of their casings. In a few more seconds they would rise into firing position.

[General Havoc]

Well, so much for that idea...

Blaster bolts began to indiscriminately rain down on the mercenaries, the Jedi, and of course on Ryassek himself, courtesy of a series of droids that had materialized from nowhere. Instantly, he made a calculation as to his relative chances of survival at the hands of the Jedi, the Mercenaries, and the droids. He did not like the odds. He gave it about a 95% chance that one of the mercenaries if not the Jedi himself would shoot him in the back the instant he turned it to them.

But the droids were already shooting at him. And like it or not, 95% was less than 100%.

And so with a growl and the anticipation of feeling a blaster bolt driving into his back at any moment, he turned around, igniting his newly-won sabre to deflect the fire of the nearest droids. He dropped into Soresu stance, deflecting the first shot aimed his way straight back into the chest of one of the offending droids. He was not at all pleased when the shot in question seemed to do nothing at all to the droid, save for burning a divot into its armor. His emotions boiled and strained to be set loose, but to what effect? He could not yet conjure the lightning that would have burnt these war-machines down to smoldering metal, and such Force weapons as he did wield were all but useless here. Droids could be neither choked nor drained.

Well... there was always the old fashioned way.

He waited for an opportunity, and seized one of the Mark IV droids with his mind, hurling it indiscriminately towards the open mining shaft and bothering himself with it no more. Given that there appeared to be at least fifteen droids shooting at them, one made no damned difference, but what other option was there? Surrender and be shot?

It struck him that one of his instructors on Korriban had said something to the effect that "Jedi are often more trouble than they're worth." He was beginning to agree...

[frigidmagi]

Dewaddki cursed which resulted in a one wookie chorus of barking and snarling, Shyriwook could be a satisfying language to curse in at times

He opened fire on one of the Droids coming from his right, leveling the heavy repeater and hammering back the trigger.

"ohwo rrooaoaora rroo rawhwa ohwo rrooaoaora rroo WHOOOH! ohacahoaac wwhuoaorahwhrr ohraro?"

[Marcao]

Surprise would have been clearly etched on his features had Duty's helmet not encased him. Duty's visor reflected only whatever he saw a fact that tended to unnerve many of the weaker willed individuals that had the pleasure or misfortune of coming face to face with the Mandalorian.

That was stupid.

The thought lingered in the surface of his mind before it faded, sinking deeply into a facade that was unusually calm. There was barely a ripple of emotion left within him as he continued to listen to their guest as he continued his demands.

He is at our mercy, requiring our aid to leave this place and he demands. In the end, he saw it for what it was. A desperate ploy, seeking to gain leverage through sheer magnetism and the threat of force. Unfortunately, threats were one of those few cards that he and the others allowed precious few beings in the Universe to use. Bridges burned instantly, a first impression was still supremely important and their guest had pissed away the little good will that resided within his heart.

He prepared a rebuttal, he prepared to simply state what everyone gathered around him understood. They had the way off this rock, they held the bulk of the guns and jedi powers or not they were the arbiters of what was to come. If the fools before them could not see or realize that, then they were free to walk away or die. It was then that the most sinister aspect of his persona manifested itself. Even as he plotted murder, even as his thoughts shifted from the mundane to the grotesque violence that he was capable of committing there was not outward display. There was no visible anger, there was not even an undercurrent of emotion. His thoughts were icy clear, swirling eddies far beneath a lake of ice. He had mastered this skill in the fields of battle, when he had seen first hand how enemies and allies alike that could touch the force could so readily and easily use a man's emotion and plans against him.

He had been ready to offer his rebuttal when Duty's motion sensors began to emit a familiar tone. Duty's helmet barely managed to turn when a pair of blaster bolts hit a railing near their guest and sent sparks and white hot metal flying.

What a shame.

His armored helmet turned and as it did so a combination of honed senses augmented by technological gadgets outlined their adversaries. He spared roughly a second and half to each group. Droids, some deadlier than others but enough of them to make some methods of engagement less attractive than others. He did not allow himself time to consider all the possibilities. He went with his gut reaction, to stay and fight was to be overrun and likely killed. A fighting retreat was in order.

"We have to pull back towards the cages. Dewaddik, Zyke, fighting withdrawal." He stated as he brought Honor to bear on group that was maneuvering to make their escape as difficult and deadly as possible. If the Jedi was smart, he would receive aid. The other one, well, he was on his own.

Dewadik began to fire a fraction of a second before he tracked the lead of the droids in the path that led towards the cages. He fired a moment later seeking to cause as much damage as possible. As he did so, he growled a command and Duty reacted a moment later. The heavy energy shield system hummed to life, creating an azure "field" that provided extra protection against energy based attacks. The field would not last forever but it should tilt the odds further in their favor. He moved towards cover as he fired, aware that mobility was life in the battlefield even when covered in heavy armor.

[Comrade Tortoise]

The desperation Asarak could feel oozing out of the Rhodian almost amused Asarak. Not only was he pathetically wrong about how a jedi actually operated, but he actually thought that he could intimidate hardened mercenaries and a jedi without so much as a mind trick? It was sad. But it also meant that this individual's judgment was some of the poorest he had ever seen and he had seen a lot of poor judgment. Definitely too dangerous to be left alive and armed. Still, he had more pressing concerns.

Asarak did not speak Wookie, however he could tell from inflection and the his leaking thoughts what the general sentiment was.

'We need to go'

The Jedi shifted into Soreso and stepped back, doing his level best to deflect blaster fire.

"FIghting retreat back to the lifts! We at least need to get them coming from one direction, the front!"

He reached out with the Force and picked up one of the battle droids on the far left side, and flung it through its immediate neighbors knocking them temporarily out of commission before they could reposition themselves. This would hopefully give his companions a reprieve from blaster fire and allow them to fall back slightly and draw their opponents into a tight cluster.

He himself also started his withdrawl, needing to minimize the angles from which he received fire so his defenses could be effective.

[Hotfoot]

Zyke raised an eyebrow as the Sith exposed himself. He held up a hand as Dewaddik readied himself to shoot him, as if holding him back. As the Sith began to monologue, however, he dropped his hand and made a slicing motion with his neck. He had heard enough Sith speeches to know when letting them continue talking was a bad idea. His hand was hovering by his belt of grenades when he noticed the first group of droids out of the corner of his eye. He looked around and cursed as he saw his exit being blocked by one of the other groups. He grunted, knowing that at least Dewaddik and Marcus would know what to do.

He moved his hand from one of his incendiary grenades to a cover-generating glittercloud grenade. The grenade emitted smoke and thin strips of metal, which helped to obscure not just the naked eye, but also basic sensors. With luck, the droids to the front and sides would be effectively blinded long enough for the group to make it to the lifts with minimal directed fire. That the grenade happened to land near the Sith's feet was a happy coincidence.

"Boring conversation anyway. Trys, warm up the engines and tell Ermey to start his preflight check, we're going to have company!" He fired a few random shots at the few droids that remained visible as he followed the others back towards the lift.

[LadyTevar]

"Zyke, you weren't listening, were you," Trys sing-sang as she slid into the captain's seat of the Sunrise. "Both The Hand and the Sunrise are ready. I gave coordinates for the closest cage that will take you all the way up. All you boys have to do is get here."

"And if the Sith keeps up with the threats, we'll see if he can dodge turbolasers. He's not coming on My Ship with that attitude."

[frigidmagi]

Dewaddki began to walk slowly towards the exit while hosing the droid group with a high volume of blaster fire through the wall of smoke and scanner baffles. He snarled and bared his teeth and cried out a war cry.

"aoohoo ahwh aoacwo acworarcao! oowhwo ahwh aoacwo wwraoawo! aoohoo ahwh aoacwo acworarcao! oowhwo ahwh aoacwo wwraoawo! orahanan! orahanan!"

[General Havoc]

Ryassek had no idea what the grenade was that was thrown at him, nor did he care. All he knew was that he wanted it to be elsewhere, and so he seized it with the force and threw it in the general direction of the droids. Had it been a frag grenade, it likely would have killed him anyway, but it was not. Some kind smoke and chaff grenade all in one, it instantly shrouded much of the area between him and the droids in debris and dust.

That would help, certainly, but perhaps not enough. Either way though, there was nothing for it.

He remained in Soresu and remained where he was. He did not fall back along with the mercenaries and Jedi, for he was utterly certain they would shoot him if he did so, and besides, movement was to take himself out of the protection of the smoke grenade and illuminate him as a target . Instead he reached out with the Force like a blind man groping with his hands, and seized two of the droids. One he flung into the air indiscriminately. The other he pulled towards himself with all the power he could muster, before sidestepping and slashing the droid in half, Letting both halves skitter across the ground towards the retreating mercenaries like curling irons.

He couldn't stay here, and yet there was damn near nowhere else to go, at least at present, so he chanced remaining where he was, and deflecting what fire was directed his way, taking what opportunities he had to hurl another droid into oblivion.

[Cynical Cat]

Dewaddki's volleys blew apart one war droid and blasted the arm off another. The droids were heavily armoured, but even their armour had limits, limits the mercenaries were able to surpass. Honor's triple barrels unleashed a flurry of blaster bolts that tore through the wounded droid's armour and blew it's torso apart.

Several other droids took glancing hits that damaged their armor, or even in one case definitely penetrated the chassis, but did not take sufficient damage to significantly impair them. The ones still on their feet opened fire and advanced.

Duty took two bolts, but the combination of shield and heavy armour prevented the Mandalorian from suffering any wounds. Dewaddki took a grazing hit to the side, but it was not enough to stop the adrenaline charged wookie.

Telekinesis was not was of Ryassek's better skills and two meter tall heavily armoured war droids were not easily moved. Still, he managed to fling one aside and then, with immense concentration, pull another through the air and then slice it in two with his lightsaber. In doing so he strained his power to the limit and left himself open. That would have been less of a problem if he hadn't tossed away the glittercloud grenade, leaving him exposed to the other droids instead of engulfed in a sensor scrambling cloud.

Two refit MN-6s opened fire. The rodian was hit with six pulse wave blaster bolts from less than fifteen meters away.

Charred and blackened meat twitched on the deck as the droids fired another volley into his corpse to ensure the kill.

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Well that is one problem solved by terminal stupidity" Asarak muttered as he used his close-in lightsaber, passive precognition, and force boosted reflexes to block blaster bolts as he slowly backed off, decreasing the field of fire he had to defend himself from. Using a quick burst of energy, he pulled his master's lightsaber from the sith's smoldering corpse and activated it in his off hand.

Then he once again reached out with the Force, this time upward wrapping the tendtrils of his power around a good portion of the inner circuitry of one of the MN-6s and yanking hard.

[Cynical Cat]

One of the MN-6 droids shuddered and then dropped like a stone, it's repulsor lift apparently non functional. It was potentially a very, very long fall.

Blaster and pulse-wave bolts flashed through the air, striking near the adventurers or being deflected by the Jedi's lightsabers. The firestorm demanded most of Asarek's concentration to repel as the droids slowly and relentless advanced towards him, firing as they came. Ryassek had tossed the glittercloud grenade towards one group of droids before he died, which meant that after that group advanced through it, the cloud no longer provided any concealment. Mercifully there was some cover to hide behind, but unfortunately it was clear that the droids that had been downed by Jedi and Sith telekinetic efforts were getting up and moving to rejoin the rest of the droids in firing upon the bold defenders of the Republic.

Fortunately, the lifts were behind the heroes and away from the droids.

[frigidmagi]

Dewaddik backed up, keeping up the fire, hosing the advancing droids. His deep roars echoed over the sounds of the blaster fire and through the smoke and sparks of the importu battlefield. He felt his left foot hit the lift and he stopped. The others needed to get it into gear.

"aoacahc ahcwh'ao ra warascwh canhuscrhworc akrarcaoro, canrahoworcc rawhwa wawohoahanc aoraorwo rooohu scoohowo! ANWOACC RROO!"

[Comrade Tortoise]

Asarak was already withdrawing, albeit slowly. But he sped up his retreat, still deflecting blaster fire with both sabers, it was all he could do to keep from being hit. After what seemed like forever he finally hit the lift.

[Hotfoot]

Zyke was light on his feet as he made his way to the lift, making himself as hard a target as he could. When he arrived, he took up a low position behind what cover he could get behind, then leveled his carbine at the oncoming droids, taking careful shots at what sensor arrays he could see.