[center][h2]~| The Jedi Temple on Coruscant |~ ~| Day 1, 11[sup]th[/sup] hour |~[/h2] [u][h3]Xid & Shiri vs 3 Droids, Heart of the Temple Room[/h3][/u][/center] [hr] Xid watched Shiri dash to the right and apply her plan for distracting them. The droids fell for it, like he knew they would, and began to fire on each other in order to get her off of the one droid. With each hit into the heavy arm, he studied the effect and frowned. They strangely weren’t doing the amount of damage they were designed to. Narrowing his vision, Xid began to note the differences in their designs and realised all three were custom made. Why would the Empire want to risk using custom and personal droids on an assault on the temple? That’s when the apprentice’s words immediately snapped into place. They weren’t made to kill the Jedi, but to stun and capture them. Who ever owned these droids wanted them alive for some strange reason. His hand tightened about his lightsaber while he moved to the outside of the droid Shiri climbed onto. It’s attention barely noticed him as his Twi’Lek ally bounced off it and begin to block incoming fire. When her blade twisted to severe one of the droids in half, it moved and reversed backward to avoid being hit. Not fast enough through. The end of the lightsaber clipped the outer right side and seared an inch or two into the armored plating. Sparks flew from the gaping wound but it didn’t seem to slow it down. As it backed up, the machine stumbled into the nearby pillar causing it to crack then crumble at its foundation. Large chunks of marble and stone splintered above then fell upon the padawans. Xid found himself nearly crushed by another chunk causing him to grind to a stop, almost falling over, and then alter his direction to the left on the ball of his foot. He exhaled in frustration when he found himself farther from his intended target, one of the droid’s joints. As he made his way toward the droid's new location, his mind was ticking off the weaknesses. A control matrix in the larger part of lower half, visional reception cables along the ‘spine’ of the Mark-i, joints along the legs and hand guns. The bad part, the models were of different sizes with the more [url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/29/88/ec/2988ecc4def304a24f57b2e495ad8d11.png]squat one[/url] being the largest one while the more [url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/29/88/ec/2988ecc4def304a24f57b2e495ad8d11.png]spider like one[/url] was smaller. Xid’s blade found its mark as he swiped at the first Mark-i’s lower leg, cutting it in half and making it tilt to one side. However, both had ignored the mark-ii as the smaller one turned its head and fired at Xid with three repetitive bolts. Xid managed to duck out of one by lowering instinctively, then attempted to block the next one. He misjudged the angle as it clipped his shoulder, pain seared through his figure causing him to stagger from the impact. His yell echoed through the hallway, his attention distracted from the third one whistling at him and noticed too late. Unless Shiri did something, he would down and out before this fight even got started. [u][center][h3]Khan vs Anaka, Heart of the Temple Room[/h3][/center][/u] The little twerp is trying to play psychological warfare, Anaka thought. She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the pathetic thought of a Jedi padawan thinking he could intimidate the bigger adults. It was sweet enough to vomit over. When Khan moved and blocked her blade, her anger grew. Even worse, the little brat began to gradually grind his blade down her own lightsaber causing her to unlock their blades and step backwards, creating distance. He had at least sought to make this interesting by moving his body into a narrow target and fell into a Makashi stance that she recognized. If he wanted her as his kill, the brat would earn it. Two Makashi users, each skilled and playing a game of chess, locked in the form of lightsaber blade combat where only one would live. Most would assume that the younger padawan was controlling her movements through pure aggression but there was more than one way to win a fight and control one’s movements. When Khan moved in, he twisted his blade into an uppercut at her face. Her foot jerked back then to her left, slipping just out of his attack range and circling the padawan. As he came down for a third strike she noted the semi and quick effort put into the downward attack at her head. Her blade was at her side, waiting and tensed to react at the right time. Now it had come. Her blade was right there to block it like a hidden snake ready to strike and immediately batted it away before it could hit her head top. Not wanting to take her chances that the padawan had faster reflexes than her, Anaka applied [b]Force Slow[/b] upon him. She had developed it where the effect was gradual and the padawan would not notice it until she landed at least a strike or two. However, he was an Echani and she knew very little about the race or their abilities. Either way the Force Slow wasn’t as effective as it would be on a Republic Trooper, but it would buy her precious seconds in combat for about two back and forth rounds until the Jedi adjusted. Many combatants focused on purely defending against physical attacks, rather than the ability to protect against telepathic force abilities that mess with and muddle the mind. It required a lot of mental multiple tasking and if one wasn’t trained to do it, they would find it difficult. In a life or death situation, this was critical. Force combat was full of hard counters, which why it was rarely ever used alone to win a fight. At the same time, her blade made a fast slice across the padawan's chest region when she pulled back. Meanwhile, her feet pulled back in order to prepare to twist the blade about and block if he attacked once more. [u][center][h3]Denso vs Nisk, Heart of the Temple Room[/h3][/center][/u] Nisk looked at his wound. It was a shallow one, the very tip of the Kiffar’s blade caught him along the hip and across the thigh front. Thankfully it only took off several layers of flesh rather than deep into the muscle and seriously cripple him. It super heated enough to prevent additional bleeding unlike actual, primitive blades used on the colony he originated at. His fingers tightened about his lightsaber as he rushes forward. The Zabrak bunched up his legs at the last moment and flips over the the knight, whipping at a slice at the head top before falling back down. He launches another strike at the Jedi’s side, before twisting away. If the Jedi didn’t get is blade to interlock then the Zabrak was likely to keep flipping about and push the Jedi toward the Droids. [center][u][h3]Jayda, Jedi Archives[/h3][/u][/center] Jayda’s keen ears listened to the muffled and dying war around her position, the struggle coming to its very peak and soon would fall silent. Her heart felt a pang of admiration and pity for the falling Jedi that would soon became one with the Force or become the unwilling subject to a Darth’s twisted whims. Like many conflicts beyond her understanding, her figure stood on the cusp of involvement where a perilous action could’ve sent her diving head into the stormy sea below or jerked her from falling over the edge. In a world where politics could end a life, this gave Jayda an edge to survive by never becoming involved. An existence she found useful and painful at the same time. The apprentice’s footfalls echoed about her in soft, careful tones while her natural awareness kept tabs on her surroundings. Nose was poised for the heavy sweat of enemies to the silent steps of the Jedi creeping upon her blind spots, even for dirty filthy apprentices hoping to downsize their vast number. About after a while wandering the corridors, Jayda noticed small figures moving ahead in the darkness. Her hand tightened and withdrew her hilt, careful not to turn it on, while she edged closer to spy upon them. One by one a small group of individuals had been led into the archives by two padawans. Children. The word singled out in Jayda’s mind. It stopped her hearts in their tracks and squeezed deeply into her rib cage, leaving her breath sucked in her throat and unable to release. Her mind stalled as memories flooded her attention and promptly her knuckles tightened their grip on her lightsaber until they were white. After a moment or two, her breath exhaled and her head shook. The memories faded from her attention like the nightmares they were as she gritted her teeth then moved toward the Archives entrance. It was better she caught the children than Sish did. [hr] [h2][center]~|Nar Shaddaa, Veenra|~[/center][/h2] [h3][center]~|Day 3, 6[sup]th[/sup] Hour|~ [u]Zora Nox[/u][/center][/h3] Zora took another swig of her drink then slammed down her glass. She had just started to slid to the booth’s end and slip away when her eyes caught the Tiss’shar coming her way. ‘Fucking great,’ Thought the twi’lek as she focused herself to remain calm. Her fear, use to running without a leash, resisted and tried to pull her to rush away. She would’ve listened if had only been troopers she was dealing with, but there was also a powerful Jedi walking her way. If she tried to escape, it would be the end of her. The apprentice took another sip of her drink to numb the fear growing and wiggling within her. Her forefinger tapped the glass’ side idly while she flopped back into her seat, thinking feverishly about how to handle this situation. A right hand lowered to her hip’s right side and readied to grip it in the worst case scenario. She also had a few alchemy surprises up her sleeve if she needed it and could distract the force user long enough to escape untouched. When Fa mentioned she merely wanted to talk, Zora grudgingly gestured for the Tiss’shar to take a seat across from her. Through it would be obvious she rather have been left alone. Sliding one of the drinks empty glasses to the side, the apprentice then spoke, “Alright, what brings you to seek out someone like me? I will warn you now, I got nothing you want or need.” [h3][center][u]Elias, Strike Team[/u][/center][/h3] Elias had just finished checking his blaster when his ears caught Eyes’ comment. His head whipped up and his lips fell into a deep frown, his common, good natured grumbling followed shortly afterward. He hated going into the bar personally because it was unfamiliar territory. In missions like this, there was little telling what might happen or what trouble they might stir in their duty. Exhaling, he followed Eyes into the tavern as he held his arm for her to grip, letting her giggle and ‘fawn’ over him in just the right amount. He kept his face neutral because he pretty much believed if he smiled… over half his squadron would become distracted and blow their cover. Only his grandchildren got to see him grin like a laughing fool after all. Walking in line with the woman, he leaned into her ear and appeared to whisper affection at her. In reality, he was trying to get a beat on their target, “I see about three schutta that could be our target. One in the wee corner trying to hide and seek, and two groping those two thugs at the far table. My money’s on the hiding rat.” When they arrived at the bar, he pulled out a small stash of credits. He then gestured toward the Human bar keeper for a strong drink for him and something suitable for his lady friend before paying the bill. The man nodded then popped behind the bar and came up with different drinks. Cradling his, Elias took his seat and sniffed it cautiously before giving her a look at the quality of it. Naturally, she took in the atmosphere in an instant and, as a result, had an energy level matching the locale, which she used to metaphorically carry Elias along with her to her favorite place that wasn't the dance floor; the bar.