Back to Belsavis (open; OP territory)

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Dak Canton"] [member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Uriel"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]

Processing.

The word held a depth of dispassionate inhumanity, a blandness without ambiguity. The Protectorate selected its coldest, most inhospitable worlds for its prison camps. Ashin had no desire to be processed.

That Sarge had found her and her associates so quickly meant -- had to mean -- that one of her people had made a mistake. Though she believed the Force had a will, she found it difficult to imagine that will finding a mortal avatar in a killing machine. She'd forged his halberd on Korriban, and in the process she'd gotten the measure of a man in transition. But a matter of a few degrees could separate final destinations by parsecs. Sarge appeared to have taken his final form, and parsecs seemed to fit the bill. He could have become something admirable.

Then again, for all his occasional gruff friendliness, even the old Sarge had been a soulless killer, in his way. Now he'd just traded inertia for impetus.

Cloaked by the White Current, Ovmar, Fen and Canton disappeared from sight, sound, sensor, infrared -- from the universe. As her compatriots vanished -- perhaps to a spot back up the trail; perhaps to the snow-filled canyon below; perhaps to the hovering cloaked transport, its new snowdrifts obscured by the blizzard -- Ashin stepped forward to the edge of the trail and peered up through the closing gap in the blizzard. From here she could just barely make out the shapes of the two walkers, above the far edge of the canyon. Maybe twenty metres vertical distance, forty horizontal. She continued walking down the trail along the canyon wall.

"I didn't come here to get processed, Sarge," she said, and her voice carried through the storm, an old Jedi trick. "I came here because this is the next stop on my tour -- solving problems the locals have missed or ignored." He'd heard, perhaps, of her stunts at Odacer-Faustin and Shri-Tal.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

[member="Dak Canton"] [member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Uriel"] [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Ashin Varanin"]

The walker stared back. "You have violated Protectorate territory." It repeats in that mechanical thunderclap of a voice, cannon still spooled and ready to go. He'd not realized it but his right hand was clenched into a fist, almost burning with the need to release a scalding heat he'd not realized was there. Splayed feet shifted, adopting a wider and more stable firing position.

Her friends had disappeared, and while Sarge had been Force-Dead the last time he'd seen the Current... nagging familiarity narrowed down the options until that was the only one left. There was any number of ways in which this could end, and Sarge would have been kidding himself if he didn't believe it was going to end violently. He'd never fancied himself an Ashin; a larger than life genius with an aptitude for knocking people around.

He'd always, at best, seen himself as an exceptional soldier.

But that didn't stop him from thinking that between Uriel and himself, they could take her. Perhaps not easily, but without undue difficulty. Two infantry support walkers, one piloted by him? Yeah, that might be enough.

Might be.

The cannon gave a loud splurrrt of sound as he punched his fist forward, a near continuous stream of blue blaster bolts drawing a scorched line in the snow. She would come no further. "Explain." Though it was unspoken, the outcome was clear; if it wasn't satisfactory and above board, this would get messy. After all, you didn't usually 'help' people by ignoring the local government.

Especially when someone you know would likely be willing to help is only a call away.

 

[Uriel]

While basically everyone around him was some kind of master of the Force, there were two people here relegated to the status of not ridiculously overpowered: Uriel, and that one soldier guy on their side.

Not being able to deal with the Force, Uriel was left to deal with a strange situation: one second they were there, one second, they were not. They didn't show up on thermals. Nor low-light, infrared, hell, they didn't even register on anything used for pinging things in the depths of space when you were deployed to, say, an asteroid.

"My Lord, you know these people. What is happening?" Uriel asked over vox-link, fingers curling around the controls for his missile pods. He knew someone was out there. The sensors had not lied; there were voices. Masters of this 'Force'. Uriel had his own force - a huge missile bank and a pair of heavy laser cannons for melting through tanks.

However, the intent was clear: they were interlopers, here to do something they should not have been doing. They were breaking the law. One call, and an entire company of the Inquisition could be at their location within minutes. Uriel Squad would not waste time in coming to him as need be. Perhaps not in walkers, but the support fire even from infantry would be very welcome.

He hoped it would not come to that.

[member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Dak Canton"]

 

[Marcus Tritum]

I moved back at the Fringe Head Honcho Dude's gesture. My boots crunched in the snow as softly as I could manage. Suddenly, something prickled across me. Felt weird. I double checked my heating systems to make sure they were functioning.

Ayup.

Hmm. That's funky.

Frowning, I glanced back toward the hostiles, my gaze traveled upward until I was looking at the cliff face behind them.
Oh baby, I thought, now wouldn't that paint a pretty picture.

I adjusted my aim until the underslung grenade launcher was pointed toward the cliff, then I waited for the-

WOAH!

The rotary cannon of the lead walker carved a line in the snow just in front of Varanin.

My finger tightened on the trigger, but I didn't squeeze. Not yet.


[member="Uriel"] [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Lingering behind.

Spencer had remained quiet on the way to Belsavis, mostly because she had other things to do that worked adjacent to Ashin's plans. Remaining alert, she poked her head up from the small snow fortress she had dug around her. Something in the back of her head started to pry and poke. Mostly this was tied to Ashin and her well-being along with other things. Wiping her the frozen gunk that had started to form on the tip of her nose she sat down and took in a deep breath. Tapas was something magical, something that helped her survive. Taking a moment to focus on Ashin, she sensed the woman's location and spoke through their deep connection.

Curtain, cute. Need help, not too far away. [member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Spencer Jacobs"] Noted. May have to evac quick. Sarge is broken.

She lacked facility with telepathy, even when her Force-bond with Spencer was involved, so a few quick words were all she could manage. [member="Sarge Potteiger"]'s blaster cannon chewed into the snowy edge of the path that ran along the canyon wall opposite him. The trail might be too far below the top of the canyon for an easy Force-jump, and falling was survivable -- for her -- but carried its own intrinsic issues, foremost among them being the difficulty of moving in twenty-foot-deep snow. The trail, backwards or forwards, was fundamentally her only viable option for evasion, and Sarge's fire had made it clear that he had the range. A cold fury settled in her as she watched the two hulking figures at the top of the canyon's opposite wall -- visible even with the snow coming down again, now that she had the measure of their shape. [member="Jared Ovmar"], [member="Anaya Fen"], [member="Dak Canton"] -- they could take care of themselves. Her focus settled on Sarge and [member="Uriel"], and stayed there even as the path creaked and cracked under her, destabilized by Sarge's blaster cannon.

"I came here with Darron Wraith," she called out, "during the Omni crisis. We fought Apparatus here. Belsavis has hundreds of forgotten vaults, more than the Protectorate has had time to find. This one was important to Omni. I mean to deal with it."

Efficiency first -- that was the way to deal with fanatics on their own turf. It was all she could do from launching into a diatribe, starting with less than a year ago, you'd never have shot at me, or aimed to 'process' me. Or maybe he would have, even while she was making his halberd on Korriban. Fundamentally, she'd always known, Sarge was just an angry man looking for the right target. It was a quality she could understand intimately.

But then again, we always hate most the things that remind us of what we hate about ourselves. Her hands tightened to fists and stayed that way.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya went rigid as the canon erupted, spraying snow up and obscuring her vision breifly. A warning shot. She became aware of the familiar weight of her saber staff in her hand, her stance shifting slightly. She stopped thinking about the deeper meaning of the situation at hand, she pushed aside the early memories she had of Sarge. Sarge the man that'd had always fascinated her, she'd never see him coming and that in itself always thrilled her. He got into her head without trying, always seemed to see the bigger picture instead of the little glimpse she gave him.

He had been her friend. Perhaps the only one she truly had. The only one she'd never felt the need to stab in the back.

"He's not going to let us pass, Ashin."

The man that spoke to them now, the one that had placed a note upon her desk demanding intelligence, the man for whom she had faced the Dark Lord for, who had then greeted her with a gun. That was not the Sarge she knew. She made a decision there and then, shrugging off the thick furs and depositing them in the snow, leaving her in skin tight thermals.

This is insanity.​

"What's new?"

This is a new level of insanity.​

She moved forward, coming to a stand a few feet adjacent to Ashin, the pathway groaned, a deep cracking sound reverberated through the air, bringing her to a stop. "In the time it takes him to make a decision about processing us, word will have reached the rest of the protectorate about our presence. We need to move. Now."

[member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Uriel"] [member="Dak Canton"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"There is no such thing as a plea of innocence in my court. A plea of innocence is guilty of wasting my time. Guilty."​

​

"Have you ever wondered, Ashin." The walker begins. "Of the hubris that comes from thinking you know best? That there are some things you can just... handle quietly without anyone being the wiser? That well and true the only souls in the universe who can deal are you and yours? There are many paths to a solution, Ashin. You have chosen wrong."

There's a shifting of the walker as it shakes snow from its massive shoulders, spooled cannon turning to regard [member="Anaya Fen"] for several moments. He was well aware of the irony that came from his words; at least partially. They were not, in his opinion, fully ironic. But Ashin was aware that Sarge was constantly moving through Protectorate space, eliminating threats as they cropped up - and even before they did.

He'd fought Omni personally through both of the AI's invasions, although she wasn't privy to the fact he'd been there the first time through. A simple message would have granted them safe passage, allowed them to touch down without incident. Instead, they made to sneak about like thieves in the night, bringing Sith into his territory.

His home.

It angered him in some deep, dark recess of his mind where that emotion still processed, the rusted gears turning slowly as blood began to thud against his ears. "You come to my home, Ashin. You bring what I hate to my doorstep. You trespass on our lands. And worst of all, instead of informing us of a threat, you only make it known when a gun is put to your head.

You're smart Ashin.

You know how this looks.

I will have to ask you to leave so my men can handle this situation. I will ignore what you've brought, and wish you safe travels back to your space. I will not tolerate your presence longer."

There was a pause as the cannon slowed, coming to a slow halt to back up his words - [member="Uriel"] would likely still have the missiles targeted anyway. "I am sorry." He adds, although for what, exactly, is hard to say.

[member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Dak Canton"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]

 

[Uriel]

[member="Ashin Varanin"] | [member="Dak Canton"] | [member="Jared Ovmar"] | [member="Anaya Fen"] | [member="Spencer Jacobs"] | [member="Sarge Potteiger"]

He had missed Ashin's words, telepathic as they were. An entire conversation had happened, one-sided as it was by the perception of the soldier. However, there was only one man's words he needed to heed, the only words he'd heard of the entire conversation. The Lord Inquisitor and his orders were absolute. They were to leave.

One hand still tightened around the controls to his missile banks, Uriel keyed his communication unit. He had to call this in.

"Brother-Sergeant Uriel to all elements," informed the man cocooned inside the giant walker. "Grid three-three-nine-zero-cresh-eight. Requesting reinforcements. Potential hostile presence at our grid location. Uriel Lead is plus one with the Lord Inquisitor."

Anaya Fen had been right in her mentality. Uriel was not in on the conversation - so before Sarge had even finished speaking, the rest of the Inquisition had been informed of their presence. A dropship carrying more blue-clad warriors was on its way to their location, ready to handle the threat. With Force-users irritating the Lord Inquisitor, Uriel knew it could mean only one thing: Sith. Killing them was one of the prime directives of the Inquisition. And those missiles still had the range, crosshairs nestling over right behind where the blaster cannon had just tore furrows into the snow. For the intruders, this was not a great situation; a failed stealth mission never ended well for those who had tried. Uriel wasn't a Force-user. He didn't know or care for its intricacies. He simply had one job: protect the Protectorate.

He was now called on, with his brothers, to execute that duty. If it required a full onslaught, so be it.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Uriel"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]

She'd felt a lot of things for Sarge over the years -- amusement, contempt, affection, anger, the occasional prickle of involuntary fear.

Hate was a new one.

Not trusting herself to speak, unwilling to amplify her voice with the Force again, she turned and began trudging back the way she'd come. The Protectorate didn't remotely have the technology to pick up a Sekairo-class stealth transport; between that and Sarge's word, whatever the latter was worth in this day and age, she expected a clean egress. She'd pick up Spencer on the way out, and maybe even send Sarge the coordinates to the vault.

The odds of this, of running into Sarge and his walkers in the middle of nowhere, didn't appeal to her. She found it uncomfortable whenever the will of the Force got involved, though she couldn't guess what use the Force might have for her new emotion. Then again, there was more involved than just her.

Spencer -- on our way out. Sarge is a problem. We'll pick you up. Spencer from their bond, Anaya from their long familiarity, Ovmar from his mentalism -- all three of them would be able to tell she was furious. But alone on an alerted hostile world...now was not the time to see if she could take down those walkers. For once, she listened to Anaya Fen.

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer lifted her head from her meditating, she had remained quiet and in her location. Ashin of course could find her easily enough through their bond, but she felt it as if the woman was on fire - the anger that rose inside of her. Spencer stood where she had been crouching and ran a hand gently through her blonde hair. Something wasn’t going as planned and it seemed that Sarge had fallen off his rocker - or something else. The man, she respected beyond anyone else minus Ashin and those that trained her. Sarge stood for what he believed and protected those beliefs. Someone like that, you could never take lightly. Inhaling deeply Spencer received the quick telepathic message. Ashin was never good at it, so she learned to pick up the short quick messages and decrypt what she was trying to say in full.

Got it, you sure you can handle getting out of there?

Those bad feelings in the Force made her question Ashin’s game plan. Spencer leaned against a small speeder that she had been protecting for a bit. If Ashin couldn’t get to her, she would get to Ashin - pick up Jared if he wasn't being a moron, lastly if she remained in a good mood she would return for Anaya, but that woman could survive anything. Spencer wasn’t too worried about her.

Still, there was this inner voice that told her, never leave someone behind. Cursing it she waited for Ashin’s response or another fluctuation of her emotions. Just something to give her a heads up on the game plan.


[member="Ashin Varanin"] @Uriel @Sarge Potteiger [member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Spencer Jacobs"]

I brought a stealth transport. Nothing OP can spot. I'll pick you up.

 

[Allyson Locke]

Sighing, Spencer threw up her hands and shook her head grinning. Alright alright, I'll play the lost princess and wait for ya. Stay safe. [member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya felt her lips curl into a smile as the canon moved to settle upon her. It was easy to tell someone else what a good idea was, give advice. Advice like walk away while you still can. As the words fell from Sarge's lips Anaya chuckled. Oh he had his points. Ashin was the embodiment of hubris, but then they all had their faults. As for what Sarge hated?

He didn't hate her, simply what she represented. Ashin had walked away, yet Anaya remained where she was battling with the idea of taking on the walkers, of trying to get to her friend so she could perhaps beat some sense back into him...or at least beat him. Either would make her feel better. She couldn't make the first move though, not now Ashin had actually listened to her.

She took a deep breath and spoke. amplifying her voice with the force. "For a man who hates sith, you share some of their worst traits. You gave up the best parts of you, for the pursuit of unrequited love... Such a pity. I hope, for her sake, that you find that which she could have loved again. The galaxy is a cold and dark place when you have no friends."

She turned to walk away, pausing after a few steps, to glance back. "Oh, and for the record. That thing you hate so much? You still owe her. And she hasn't forgotten."

Snow crunched once more underfoot as she followed the trail Ashin had left with her own feet.

[member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Dak Canton"] [member="Uriel"]

 

[Arage Bao]

Ovmar cursed, he had cloaked all of them, but for some fraked up reason Anaya had decide to waltz in there and make the situation even worse. No they weren't just trespassers, no they were trespassers with sith friends, and with Sarge's current hate-boner for that particular set it wasn't one of the better calls to make. But it was too late to do anything, oh they could have taken them easily, there was no doubt in Jared's mind about it.

Sadly Varanin had other plans, for them to kick as the whole team need to be in sync anyway. He felt the hatred though and that would bring a weak smile to his face, Sarge had made a bad judgement-call on this one, oh there wouldn't be blood now. But he knew the look, knew the feeling... a storm was rising, revenge would be coming and it would all end in blood.

Then again.

It always did.

[member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Dak Canton"] [member="Uriel"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Staring down at the departing form of the red-skinned Sith, Sarge shook his head inside the walker, green tactical overlay lighting his haggard features. Blinking slowly, he looked to his scanners, the arm gripping the weapon mount no longer burning with the need to open fire. There was a long pause as the walker simply stood, a stoic guardian seeing off the latest would-be conquerors.

That's all Sarge had ever amounted to, really.

An implacable, misguided guardian.

"I hope so too, Red."

The words echoed through what was likely an empty canyon, his eyes casting themselves downward. He'd done what he'd needed to, but what you needed to do and what you should do were not always one and the same.

His nation. His territory.

None shall pass.

"Get the men into that... whatever it is. I want it destroyed." He says to [member="Uriel"], turning the walker away and back towards the base, not needing to see his past fading in the rearview mirror for the umpteenth time in the last few months.

[member="Dak Canton"] [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Jared Ovmar"]

 

[Uriel]

[member="Ashin Varanin"] | [member="Dak Canton"] | [member="Jared Ovmar"] | [member="Anaya Fen"] | [member="Spencer Jacobs"] | [member="Sarge Potteiger"]

The roar of engines behind them signalled the arrival of the first transport bearing the men of the Inquisition; blue-clad, they ran through the snow, taking up positions around the walker. As the Lord Inquisitor retreated, Uriel's squad formed up, leveling missile launchers and other heavy weapons.

Uriel took careful aim at the hole in the snow that had been formed, the only sign that anything had been there. Their inevitable barrage of fire would cause a snowstorm, blocking the path of any future 'adventurers' looking to intrude upon Omega space and venture into the depths of the tombs of Belsavis. If something was there, certainly, perhaps the Inquisition could spend some time looking into the depths of this planet. However, they were not of Omega. This was not their world. It was not their place to play police.

It was Uriel's now.

"Yes, my Lord," replied the Sergeant, the arm bearing the twin heavy laser cannons pushing forward. Twin crimson lances of flame rushed through the sky, heralding destruction - moments later, a rush of missiles and high-explosive bolts followed from both a stumpy walker and its supporting infantry. That hole was going to become a cave-in, snow rushing up to fill the void. Destabilised by the impact and detonations, rock and ice fell to fill their place.

The way was barred. None would pass.