Knights of the Old Republic: Rise of the Reavers

[Comrade Tortoise]

Asarak was in the process of disappearing into the slum. He had seen the spy droids move to track him, and was moving in such a way as to force them to follow him into tight spaces if they wanted to keep track of him. There he could neutralize their mobility and destroy them.

It would also prevent bounty hunters from being able to train blasters on him, and force them into close quarters should they find him. This gave him a distinct advantage, one he sorely needed.

Still, he mused, it was just his luck that on the day he gets to go home, after years of skulking in darkness, bounty hunters would find him, and kill Melek.

He stopped momentarily, and tried to sense his surroundings and the dangers that surrounded him. He was not powerful enough to track the droids through the force. Not by a long stretch. But he knew what was coming after him now and if the Force was with him, he might be able to get enough information to guide his path.

[Marcao]

“I hear you. We are on our way to pick up the package, if you come into any particular information regarding their location we would appreciate the assistance.â€

[LadyTevar]

"There's something about a disturbance, a firefight," Trys answered, puzzled. "But the local law seems to be ignoring it."

[frigidmagi]

"Lets check it out. If we see a lightsaber we jump in." Dewaddki suggested.

[Marcao]

"Sounds promising." He admitted.

Personally, he doubted that there was a great deal of law to be found in this place aside from what personal strength and judicious amounts of blaster fire provided. Nonetheless, in his experience those that could manipulate the force Jedi or Sith tended to attract trouble.

[LadyTevar]

"100 creds says our Jedi started it by trying to protect someone," Trys quipped. "Santicimonious bastards."

[Cynical Cat]

Threel addressed the motley group of thugs that followed in his wake. "You," he said pointing to one group, "go around right. You," he said addressing another, "sweep the bottoms. The rest of you with me."

"Where are we going boss?" asked a three eyed Gran.

"The cages," said Threel. The Jedi would head there to escape the Pit and he would have them.

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Gamorreans grunted to each other as one pointed out the flare of blaster fire being directed at Ryassek. The nodded to each other and hefted their axes. The porcine slavers waddled in the general direction of the fire fight. They had a score to settle and settle it they would, Gamorrean style.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Asarak saw several things with The Force, the first was a feeling that help was on the way He did not know where they were, or what they looked like, but undoubtedly they would have heard of the firefight, or would soon enough if they were in any way competent.

He also sensed a trap. Just his luck. They probably thought a Jedi would try to leave the pit. But it was the pit that masked his presence. No, he would stay until the odds were more even. Still, they would probably try to drive him out like one drove an animal from its den. He would need to find and neutralize those sent to do just that.

He moved a little farther until he found a spot to conceal himself near a confluence of paths, a place a group running a sweep would be likely to either converge, or be at different times. He moved behind a door frame, and set up an ambush of his own.

[LadyTevar]

((Ediited))

As the TroubleTrio followed the gang of thugs, Trys was trying her own tricks to track down their quarry. Pulling out various electronic aids and hooking them up to the Sunrise's comm board, Trys attempted to hack into the feed from whatever monitors the local law enforcement might have working in The Pit.

"Duty, I'm trying to get a visual on the area," she informed Marcus. "System's a pile of bantha poodu, though. I can just get views of the guard stations and what looks like lifts."

[Marcao]

"That is hardly a bet and you know it." He replied as he caught sight of the nearest elevator in question and headed in that direction. It did not take long to arrive there and he waited for Zyke and Dewaddik to move inside before he closed the cage and pressed the button that presumably would send them plummeting towards the bottom. As the elevator descended, he received Trys update on the situation.

"We are heading down on an elevator now. Keep doing what you can. Once we get to the bottom we will see what we can figure out about the location of our guests." He replied.

Even as he spoke however, he was mindful of his surroundings. This was an environment that did not encourage relaxation. Furthermore, they were here on a mission. A mission that he expected they would complete but it would take time to narrow down but time was something that they had. His helmet scanned from side to side as the elevator continued its descent. When it began to slow, he was almost instantly aware of the discrepancy in motion.

Their arrival to the lower levels was not heralded by anything more than a grunt as the elevator came to a complete stop. "Let's get this over with." He muttered to Zyke and Dewaddik as the elevator's cage slid open and allowed them all to disembark. He exited the first, the black and silver armor around him seeming to gleam with unspoken malice. Intimidation was part of the reason why this sort of armor had been built as much as protection. Honor rested in a lazy semi-prepared state its three barrels seeming to absorb the light that brushed against them.

His helmet moved and scanned from side to side as he sought to gain a sense of their immediate surroundings both in terms of people, as well as tactically sound locations, possible ambush locations and a host of other nuances that those trained in the art of war had drilled into their heads. Even when surrounded in armor, the Mandalorians had learned to use their environment to suit their needs.

[LadyTevar]

"There you are," Trys radioed, chuckling as she saw the three enter the elevated lift. "You're all looking seriously deadly right now."

[General Havoc]

The other Weequay was sufficiently intimidated to fall back, exposing Ryassek once more to a hail of blaster bolts. He knew precious little about paired lightsabre combat, and this was hardly the time to learn, particularly given the odd hilt on the fallen Jedi's sabre. Besides, the other Jedi had run away, seeking shelter no doubt from the fate that now threatened to overtake Ryassek himself. There would be plenty of time to butchering these goons later. For now, it was time to fall back and find that other Jedi. Ryassek didn't know if the result would be a conversation or a duel to the death, but he was not about to let the only Jedi he had ever met slip through his fingers. If the Jedi needed killing, it would be Ryassek himself who killed him, not some damned bounty hunter lusting after credits.

He parried the blaster bolts as best he could while falling back deeper into the Pit, not caring particularly what the reflected shots were hitting, so long as they were making enough of a mess. He kept himself facing the largest number of blasters, and the most inconveniantly-placed shooter he fired a spike of anger into, intending to simply blast him back away, to kill him if he was lucky, to simply distract him if not.

He ducked around a building to avoid the hail of blasterfire. Hopefully it was sturdy enough to stop the shots, but hadn't gone more than six feet before he was presented with another... interesting situation.

Two enormous Gamorreans, larger than the three he had destroyed earlier, were standing in the alley he had ducked into, waiting for him with axes in hand, barring his escape route. Ryassek ground to a sudden half, seeing them standing there before him, murder in their eyes and in their stances, and nearly cried. What had he done to deserve this? First the three Gamorreans, then the Jedi, then the Assassins, and now two MORE Gamorreans.

His cup runneth over with the blessings of the Force.

A cruel smile appeared on Ryassek's face as he slid the Jedi's lightsabre back into the slot on his belt where he normally kept his own, and he crouched low, his own blood red sabre crackling in his right hand. The two Gamorreans were no doubt associates of the three he had dispatched, and the prospect of sending two more to their graves was sweet music to his ears. Had he had any on-hand, he might have employed it, but he did not, and the area was not well suited for it regardless. So instead of letting those emotions swirl through him, he fell back of anger and hatred, and raised his offhand towards the Gamorreans, and beckoned to them.

[Cynical Cat]

There were two Mining Police guards on duty, wearing blast helmets and vests with blaster rifles held at port arms. Mirrored visors prevented the Trio from getting a look at their expressions as more trouble than they could handle came out of the cages. Zabraks weren't a particularly fearsome species, but those that hailed from Iridor were known over half the galaxy as deadly fighters. Everyone knew Mandalorians by reputation and one didn't have to know about Wookies to think one was trouble, let alone one carrying massive firepower.

The cops shifted and then as one their gazes turned. A grey skinned lanky human with dark braids was leading half a dozen thugs of a variety of species, armed with mostly low quality and archaic weapons. Unfortunately, they were carrying a lot of firepower, even if it was not up to the state of the art. The Mining Police stepped into the cages and hit the "up" buttons.

"Bounty hunters?" asked an Aqualash. It was a reasonable assumption. What else would three such disparate but well armed and dangerous beings be?

"Watch them," said Threel. "The Jedi are ours."

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Hundreds of meters away and more than a couple of levels down, Asarak was moving through cover and away from the firefight. The Gamorreans missed him on their sweep because he was below them. Unfortunately, three of Merdar's goons found him, thanks to the spy bots. The three humans broke into a run, their feet slamming loudly against the catwalks, as they spread out and tried to get a shot against the evading Jedi. Of course, that meant getting fairly close, within a few tens of meters at most, and the Jedi was not defenseless.

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Ryassek evading the killing fire before a bolt slipped through his guard, dodging behind a hut and letting the shack take the fire before crossing through another gantry and putting more distance and obstacles in the way. Merdar's team was temporarily out of luck. The only one that did get a shot got hammered over the edge of a catwalk by Ryassek's lethal telekinetic thrust.

The Gamorreans thought otherwise. They had blasters, the stun function made these weapons a far superior choice to pulse-wave weapons price be damned, but they didn't much like to use them. The massive creatures preferred fists and hand to hand. All three of them thought they had hit the jackpot when they saw the little Rodian didn't carry a gun and drew their axes.

They closes in V-shape, heavy axes in their hands. They knew nothing of Jedi, Sith, or lightsabers. Their education was likely to be painful if not downright lethal.

[Comrade Tortoise]

This was the sort of thing the jedi wanted. They had to get close to get a shot in this environment. Not only that, but they had to spread out. They were not exactly quiet. He had gotten a good idea of the layout, and knew where their arcs of fire toward him would be. All he had to do was wait for his chance.

There it was. One of them sacrificed distance from his lightsaber for a clear shot. He fired off a volley of blaster bolts, which Asarak easily deflected into the walls around him as he closed the distance with inhuman speed. His final block was a downward movement with his lightsaber, and the resulting upward slash bisected the bounty hunter. The two neat halves fell to the floor with a somewhat sickening thump.

Asarak did not stop there, he could not afford to be in the same place for long, so he sidestepped from there into another nook to avoid blaster fire from his late opponent's fellows. He would see how they react.

[frigidmagi]

Dewaddik took in the thugs and their rather out dated weapons and snarled hefting his repeating blaster.

"Okay, now what?" He asked.

[LadyTevar]

"Did the local cops just look at you three and run?" Trys asked in shock, even though the video cameras at the elevators and the guardshack both showed her it in real-time.

"Frell... they did, didn't they..." she continued, breaking out laughing. "Dewaddik! You shouldnt' scare the humies like that!"

((EDITTED, FINALLY. No Guard Shack))

[frigidmagi]

Dew went into the guard shack, mildly interested in what passed for security in this crap hole part of the universe anyways.

"Now, now Trys you shouldn't blame them for running. I'm likely the first Wookiee they've ever seen. My sheer Charisma likely had them fleeing in awe. Wookiees like me have that effect on people from time to time." He said.

[Marcao]

He had not paid the two mining police as he and the others had exited the elevator a great deal of attention. He did not believe that they were going to try their luck in getting in their way especially when considering that as of yet they had done nothing wrong. He was pre-occupied with other matters, ranging from the most likely spots for a potential ambush to how they were going to get paid in the smallest amount of time. It was then that he caught sight of the grey skinned human as he appeared to lead half a dozen other individuals.

That is a significant amount of firepower.

The weapons were crude in appearance but a rock could kill as easily as a blaster if employed properly. A weapon was a weapon and these men had a lot of them. Furthermore, the way they moved indicated to him that they were hunting something or someone. His attention lingered on the men for a moment before he glanced towards Zyke and Dewaddik as the elevator cage closed behind them and the two security guards were nowhere to be found.

Well, that was fast. If the reaction of the security force was to leave this area, then they were up to something. Was it Jedi or something else entirely? There was only one way to find out. He had learned to trust his feelings but his gut instinct only carried him so far. Dewaddik snarled and he turned to look in his direction.

“Now, we investigate. We can follow that group discretely and see where they are taking all that firepower. They seemed intent on using it.â€

[General Havoc]

There were three.

The Gamorreans advanced on him in a V formation, the one in front larger and presumably stronger than the other two, bearing down on the Rodian scarcely half their size with axes large enough to cleave a Krayt Dragon in half, or so it appeared. The leader, his subtle movements marked him out as such, clearly wanted the kill for himself if he could get it, knowing nothing of Jedi or Sith, save that they were "valuable" to kill, and desirous of the bragging rights that would no doubt come from having cleaved one in half.

Ryassek decided, on the spot, to kill that one first.

He took a half-step back, presenting his profile to the charging pig-men, letting the leader wind up into an overhead strike. He could not keep the grin from his face as he saw the Gamorrean heft his axe into the air, yet another fool with a weapon too large for his own good, desirous of crushing his enemies in an overhead smash.

The burst of excitement that poured through him as he choked up on his lightsabre and moved was better than Spice.

He stepped to the side as the axe crashed down, smashing into the ground with an ear-splitting crash, and before the Gamorrean could heft it once more, or even pull it from the ground, he lunged forward, stepping onto the flat butt of the axe and pushing off of it as though it were a stepping stone, leaping up into the air to place himself, if only for a second, at eye level with the Gamorrean warrior. Before the Gamorrean had time to blink, Ryassek struck him with a vicious forehand slash that sliced his head in half like a ripe melon from ear to ear. The Gamorrean had flinched reflexively as the Rodian leaped at him, and his body now fell backwards with a colossal 'thud', permitting Ryassek to land, crouched, atop his corpse.

Both of the other Gamorreans reacted at the same time. The one to the right had been preparing an overhead swing of his own, but now aborted it and tried for a sideways sweep, while his counterpart, surprised by the sudden extinction of his leader, fumbled for his stunner. Ryassek turned first on the axe wielder. Gamorreans were several times stronger than him, but a war-axe was by necessity a clumsy and slow weapon, while a Lightsabre was anything but. Ryassek met the slash with one of his own, and cleaved the axe in half at the shoulder with but a single stroke, sending the axehead flying past him harmlessly, while the Gamorrean was left holding nothing but a severed chunk of wood.

It was as this was happening, that Ryassek noticed the Gamorrean's belt.

The Gamorrean had on a broad metal belt, common enough in Ryassek's experience, but one that was studded with a series of small objects. Had he not had an encounter with a belt such as this earlier in the day, Ryassek would have paid it no notice, but as he had, he recognized that the items in question were primitive, home-made grenades. But far more importantly than that, from where he was crouched, Ryassek could see that the belt was stained with what appeared to be red blood.

Had Ryassek taken the time to consider the matter, he would have realized the fact that this, by itself, meant nothing. He would have considered that Gamorreans themselves had red blood, and that the substance might not be blood at all, and that even if it was, it not necessarily mean what he imagined it did.

A Jedi would have taken these things into consideration.

A Sith would not have cared in the first place.

Ryassek became extremely angry.

All of his barely repressed frustrations at the hands of slavers and scum boiled forth to the surface with the willing assistance of his own conscious mind, which sought not to maintain "control" but to let the tide of anger flow. He did not care to moderate his reaction, to hold his hand back with reasonable protests, but instead let his imagination of what must have happened to the human child he had released from the slavers before cloud his better judgment. There was a time for judgment and discrimination, and there was a time to cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs.

And so between one instant and the next, the Gamorreans went from the impossible task of fighting a Sith, to the utterly impossible task of fighting an enraged Sith.

He turned on the other Gamorrean, still pulling the stunner from his holster, and lashed out with the Force like a wrecking ball, smashing him into the wall hard enough to knock the weapon from his hand and dent the sheet-metal wall behind him. That handled, he turned back to the object of his anger, who was already brandishing the severed stump of his axe to try and brain Ryassek. This time, Ryassek ducked and took his hand off at the wrist with a slash of his lightsabre. As the Gamorrean slaver fell back with a guttural scream, he pulled the dead Jedi's Lightsabre from within his coat with his offhand, activated it into a shining blue beam, and threw it backwards, straight through the other pig-man's chest up to the hilt. The third Gamorrean gave a heave and a death rattle as the sabre plunged through him, then slumped over dead, leaving the sabre embedded in the wall

The last remaining Gamorrean, the one whose belt had triggered all this, was rolling on his back on the ground. Ryassek strode over to him, red lightsabre burning like a branding iron, and with one slash, sliced off the belt in question, and picked it up with his free hand. Force grip would easily have accomplished what he had in mind, but now he was truly angry at the thought that the perceptive little human from before had fallen prey to these savage, brutal, ignorant scum. Rather than employ the force directly, he chose a more... appropriate method.

He bent down and fastened the belt of explosives around the helpless Gamorrean's neck, then stood back, and squeezed.

He did not employ a Force grip, he employed raw telekinesis, to crush the Gamorrean's throat with his own bloody belt, the same one (perhaps) that Ryassek himself had adorned that human child with not hours before. Of course it could have been another belt, this Gamorrean could have easily had nothing to do with it, but Ryassek did not permit himself to care. This was another Gamorrean slaver, out only to inflict desolation on this planet. A festering boil that needed lancing.

He lanced it.

The Gamorrean clawed at his throat with his one remaining hand, but weakened by bloodloss and shock, his feeble strength was no match for the Force unleashed. Ryassek squeezed his windpipe shut and watched as he writhed and gasped in agony, and finally stiffened in death. And only after the Gamorrean had fallen still, and Ryassek could sense the life in him no longer, did he turn and retrieve the other lightsabre, before walking away. He considered activating the grenades before he left, but thought better of it. Let the remaining slavers and hired thugs see this Gamorrean laying dead in a puddle of blood, choked to death with his own belt and surrounded by the corpses of his fellows. Let them mediate on that sight, and decide if they wished to face him in their turn.

He walked on, out of the alley, his sabres extinguished once more, the Jedi's concealed back inside his clothing, his own Sith blade held in-hand. His passions continued to stew within him, and he permitted them to do so. He had no idea if he'd judged the Gamorrean rightly of course, perhaps that little human was still alive and safe, but the mere fact that it was possible that these scum had butchered him the instant Ryassek had turned his back brought up all kinds of pent up frustrations and wrath from Ryassek's own 'upbringing'. He was no longer out simply to find the Jedi. He wanted blood in buckets.

And woe betide any slaver who got in his way.

[Cynical Cat]

Ryassek was about to get his wish and as the saying goes "be careful what you wish for." Other slavers noted the brutal slaying of the Gamorreans and responded. Three Gamorreans lumbered forward, axes in one hand and blasters in the other. Their accuracy left much to be desired.

Behind them a Twi'leck on a deck above them rested a blaster on the railing and tried to get a good shot. Above him a spy droid watched everything impassively.

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Asarak was encountering difficulties of his own. The other two vermin backed off after his kill of one of their own, scrambling back and shooting wildly when they saw him. The Jedi most definitely had them at a disadvantage.

That changed when Merdar and the two Rodians finished climbing down to Asarek's level. The gunman advanced calmly and coolly, a custom modified long barrelled Seresstec Sport Blaster pistol. The enlarged Tibanna gas cylinder and extra galven circuits gave the weapons considerably more punch than the low powered sporting models normally came with while maintaining the high rate of fire and long range accuracy.

"Move ahead," he told the Rodians. "I'll cover you." That he would gun then down without hesitation if they disobeyed helped convince them to do as he commanded. The moved ahead about six meters in front of the notorious gunman, providing him with fire support and a anti-Jedi ambush tripwire.

Of course, thanks to the spy droids, he knew right were to look.

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Threel didn't need the Force to tell him this bunch was dangerous. "Kass, Icgar, watch them."

"Yes boss," said Kass. He was packing an archaic Mark VII heavy pulse-wave rifle. It's modern blaster equivalents had more than half again as much range and got twice as many shots out of their energy cells. It was big, clumsy, heavy, and slow firing. It would also take out an enraged Wookie, battle armoured Mandalorian, or light repulsor tank.

Icgar carried a much more modern weapon, a blaster carbine with an extra pistol grip and very high cyclic rate. It was ideal for hosing down angry mine workers, claim jumpers, or lightly armoured outlaws and so was the preferred long arm of the Mining Police.

Threel took the rest of his men into The Pit. He could feel the Jedi. Both of them were under stress and calling upon the Force. Soon he would know how much of the stories were true and how much were lies.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Asarak did not like this situation at all. But he must remain calm and rational. He had lost has advantage when their commander arrived, and the spy droid started helping him coordinate their movements. They knew where he was, and in this environment stealth and terrain were his advantage. He could not protect himself from men coming at him from multiple angles.

Like one who only used Soresu without an alternative attack form, all Asarak was doing with his present tactic was delaying the inevitable. The status quo must change. He looked around, as he heard three heavily armed men came down the cat walk toward his position. He saw a spy droid floating in darkness out of range of his lightsaber. But it was not out of reach of the Force. He reached out with it, and wrapped it around the internal circuitry of the spy droid, then pulled, ripping its insides apart. He saw the other as well, and quickly did the same thing.

With that done, He used his lightsaber to cut a whole in the wall he was standing next to that was big enough to easily climb through, and kick in the segment of wall that was now separated from the rest. But instead of going through, as silently as he could, he walked down to the other end of the walkway and hid behind the corner of the same shack.

They would hear the clang of the piece of sheet metal, and hopefully without their droid to guide them would move to investigate. As he saw it, most of their options after that gave him the opportunity to take some of them out without being exposed to fire from multiple angles. Even if they did not go for the bait in entirety, they still did not know where he was.

[Hotfoot]

Caught between Dewaddik and Marcus, Zyke raised an eyebrow. He went through the contents of the guardshack, looking for key components with practiced ease, comlinks, identification, and any local maps of the area. "Don't go too far ahead Marcus, we're not stopping long here, just getting some intel."

He turned to Dewaddik as he finished rummaging through the shack. "I wouldn't worry too much, I don't think anyone here is ready for your rugged good looks and dashing smell. Not everyone can appreciate the finer things in life, you know."

[LadyTevar]

"It's all that luxurious fur," Trys added, playing along. "Females especially just want to run their digits through it and feel how thick and soft it is."

As she teased Dewaddik, she was still trying to find other ways to see more of the Pit, and possibly find their Jedi.

[General Havoc]

Ryassek was not the only one who should have taken more care with what he wished for.

The Twi'lek taking aim on the catwalks above had a surprise coming to him, for before his shot was prepared, Ryassek spotted him and seized his weapon with the Force. The Jedi would have pulled it from his hands. Ryassek smashed it into the Twi'lek's face like a club, shattering his nose and knocking him nearly senseless to the floor like a severed puppet. There he left him to bleed, for there were further Gamorreans to dispose of.

He dropped into Soresu form, his anger flowing through him in the manner he had been taught to permit, reaching out and striking his enemies down with the furious power of the Dark Side of the Force. The first Gamorrean's axe clattered to the ground as Ryassek wrenched the thug's hand around, forcing him to drop it, and when the pigman brought his blaster up to shoot at point blank range, Ryassek leapt into the air and struck his arm off with an overhead slash, then spun, and cut both legs out from under him with a backhanded slash. The Gamorrean toppled forward, forcing Ryassek to roll back to avoid getting crushed. He came up in a crouch, sabre poised to deflect anything that was fired at him.

And then one of the remaining Gamorreans did something REALLY stupid.

Panicking perhaps, or simply not familiar with what a Force user could actually do, the Gamorrean pulled a grenade from his belt, primed it, and threw it at Ryassek. Perhaps he had some hope that the Sith would be unable to either parry or dodge an explosive grenade, but he had forgotten a minor ability that Force wielders had.

He was made to remember it rather rapidly.

Ryassek seized the clumsy grenade with the Force, and spiked it into the Gamorrean's chest so hard that the Gamorrean nearly folded over around it and fell forward onto his stomach, rather unfortunately landing atop the grenade in question, which proceeded to explode with gusto. Despite his anger and hatred, Ryassek did take the time to notice that the grenade in question was considerably more powerful than he had imagined such homemade bombs could possibly be. Then again, they had probably been designed to fell other Gamorreans...

The third Gamorrean froze in shock as his counterpart had all four limbs and head blown off by the exploding grenade, which also managed to turn the front half of his torso into indiscriminate reddish goo that was immediately splattered all over everything within twenty feet. Ryassek, surprised though he was at the power of the explosive, did not hesitate at all. He lunged at the last Gamorrean, sliced the clumsy axe in half with one slash, and leaped up, spinning around like a top, and slashed the Gamorrean with seven criss-crossed strikes that bit hilt-deep into the loathsome monster, before landing on the ground. For a second, the Gamorrean remained standing, frozen like a statue with small rivulets of blood dripping from the Lightsabre's cuts. Ryassek, still motionless, caught the Twi'lek from before watching him in horror from where he had landed on the ground.

Ryassek took the time to smile just a hair.

And then he turned and punched towards the Gamorrean, the Force his weapon and tool, and the telekinetic shock literally tore the Gamorrean to pieces, for the lightsabre's massless slashes had severed the Gamorrean into small chunks without actually knocking him over. From the perspective of the Twi'lek, the Gamorrean appeared to disintegrate at the will of the small albino Rodian, scattering neatly-sliced body parts all around the alley.

Covered in red blood, Ryassek threw his head back and drank in the thrill of victory, his crimson sabre crackling in his hands like a plasma storm. The Twi'lek, in panic and terror of this Rodian demon conjured from some lower Hell, managed to retrieve one of the Gamorrean's blasters, and fired at him. Semi-automatically, Ryassek dropped into Soresu stance, parried the very first shot of the Twi'lek's blaster, and deflected the round straight back into the Twi'lek gunner's forehead.

As his enemies fell dead around him, Ryassek simply turned and walked on, stepping around the butchered bodies of the Twi'lek gunner and the Gamorrean axemen, seeking any sign through the Force of where the Jedi had gone.

And heaven help whatever got in his way.

[Cynical Cat]

It wasn't that hard to notice that there was some kind of disturbance in the Pit. Stray blaster shots were flying from the area and the locals were taking cover and fleeing the battle. It was perhaps a hundred to two hundred meters ahead of the warriors and several levels down.

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Threel felt the Dark Side, always strong in the Pit due to the shear amount of misery and desperation, surge around him. For a moment, he saw. Bladed points moved with the Force, marking deadly individuals. He did not hesitate. "Kill the bounty hunters," he ordered.

He and his crew were out of line of sight, except for the watchers he had left. Icgar swung his riot gun in their direction and opened up full auto, slewing blasters bolts like water from a hose at his targets. Quantity had a quality all of it's own. Kass leveled the big Mark VII and prepared to blow holes through anyone who presented a reasonable clear target or anything resembling cover.

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Asarak watched as the Rodians split up as they neared his position. They could still support each other to some degree and receive fire support from their boss, but the widening gap and their now uncertain movements that indicated they didn't have eyes on him presented certain opportunities.

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Ryassek felt the power of the Dark Side surge through him, giving him seemingly limitless power. But he did, as always, hold back. He did not embrace the totality of the Dark. It gave him a taste of its strength and shared its secrets, but he was not truly of it nor was he, despite his training, truly Sith.

The brutal slayings had fed the well of darkness within, but had required total focus upon the tasks at hand to accomplish and pushed his abilities with the Force and the lightsaber to their limits. As a result, he saw only his prey with his Dark Side driven wrath.

The pulse-wave bolt hit him in the right upper arm, scorching tissue and sending agony searing through his body. His lightsaber fell from his grip, bounced, and fell into the abyss beneath the Pit. On a level above him and off to his right, a human thug called excitedly to his friend. "I got him!"