Dominion [Black Sun] Friends in Low Places || BSS Dominion of Dandoran

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective II // Worm in the Apple //
// Focus // CT-312 // Persephone Dashiell // Reina Daival // V1-L8 //
// Attire //

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The last one stung, this one just angered the Echani.

She had been warned that teenagers were brutal, but to experience it first hand was worse. Redness found her cheeks before she took a second to restore decorum to herself. Still, the anger would not fully dissipate as she looked downwards towards the girl.

"Maybe if you found the courage to come out from that tacky droid of yours, you'd manage to find yourself leading a group instead of cowering in some corner." A smirk curled her lips, though it was clear that she had been rattled by the insults. "Go ahead and scurry off child, let the adults do the work."

A huff escaped her lips as she spun on her heels to follow CT-312 , admittedly unsure if she had won the argument.

A Sorority Barbie?

Jorryn didn't know what either of those words meant, but that didn't stop her being irritated at the insult. For now she decided to follow the trooper down into the depths of the bunker, an unease as she left her back to the skull faced droid behind her. She stuck close by CT in the dark, preferring to allow the woman doing the fighting.

Guns weren't exactly her specialty, preferring the lightsaber that hung from her hip. But allowing the undead to get close was a rough prospect, unsure exactly how the disease infected those it turned into it's puppets.

"Are you okay taking the lead, I would rather avoid them jumping at me first." The words were cautious, not afraid, though a small thought crept in that maybe the troopers suggestion to wear armour may have been the correct decision.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik listened to Velzari's last appeal, the subtle push for "more on the table" and something in his expression shifted. Not anger. Not offense.
Understanding.

A quiet, second-hand embarrassment understanding.

He rose from his seat without haste, Diarch Reign rising exactly in tandem with him as if planned. When he spoke, his tone was nearly gentle.

"If this is your house, then perhaps instruct your people to mind their tongues and actions. A host should not invite guests only to let his hall turn feral. Now you call them friends. Fine. But do not offer a man a path and then scold him for walking it. If Quinn is here to hold your leash, I would prefer you say so plainly. It spares everyone the theatrics. What kind of crime boss starts a meeting with a rat in it."

Velzari Tharn Said:
"Yes, work against the Republic is well within our scope of practice. Work against other targets is likewise on the table, should the interest rise: the Empire, the Confederation… the Mandalorians."

"You offered strikes on the Mandalorians first, then retreated the moment it became inconvenient for your politics. I have no interest in business deals that shift depending on who is sitting beside you. If you wished to negotiate in earnest, you should have acknowledged Laphisto's statement and then reached out to me privately. You could have leveraged our differences and used those to get MORE out of me. Instead you gave up on that hook you would have had on me. Was this the same grand strategy that got you to allowing a third-party snitch into the room in the first place. Incredible.

We gave you an extreme ask on purpose, a line in the sand to see where your loyalties truly sit. And all we learned is that the extent of your wants is to say 'offer more.' Be the boss you claim to be. State your wants. The Diarchy will not look weak begging anyone to poke the Mandalorians."

There was no venom in the words. Just observation. Disappointment, even.

"I expected a criminal empire," Rellik added with a small shrug. "One that understood subtlety. What I found was a council eager to posture, gossip, and contradict itself."

His eyes traced over the table of Vigos and associates, assessing, memorizing

"Your friends in the Mandalorian Empire and the Sith Empire will carve new empires from the bones of anyone who stands still too long. When the High Republic fades, they will not ignore the Black Sun. Dark sorcery and beskar boots make poor neighbors. You want to play at subtle destabilization? Harass markets? Spill some spice into the right hands? I did not realize that the Black Sun needed to grovel others to do such things. I thought that was ALL you did. Just like the Mando'a and Sith will think."

With only moving his eyes he looked towards Quinn once more. "Isn't that right. Enjoy your little playthings and their usefulness until they are no longer fun and you toss them aside."

He brushed a faint fleck of dust from his sleeve.

"As for meaningful work, it seems this meeting was not the place for it. I will keep my olive branch. And the blade. Seek either whenever you wish."

His final look to Velzari was polite, inscrutable.

"Next time you wish to deal in shadows, Underlord… bring fewer witnesses."

And with that, he stepped back beside Laphisto.

"From this moment forward: Black Sun vessels that enter Diarchy space will be destroyed on sight. Any of your people we capture will be kept alive until they tell us everything.
And people loyal to credits talk quickly."

A small nod to Reign.
A small nod to Laphisto.

As the Heads of the Diarchy departed Rellik looked over his shoulder one last time.

"Oh and Prince. Beware the people who can walk casually into your house, amidst your friends. You might want to think twice about what kind of shadows and pockets you are not in. It is a big galaxy out there."

And the three of them left.

Diarch Reign Velzari Tharn Laphisto Zharrfo Fenn Stag Mauve du Vain Morné Karn Scherezade deWinter

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Diarch Rellik //: Diarch Reign //: Laphisto //:
//: Mauve du Vain //: Velzari Tharn //:
//: Morné Karn //: Scherezade deWinter //:

How rude...

Quinn listened to the first tantrum. Diarch Rellik cried over the loss of his friend, oh, his best friend. Lucky for him, Laphisto was there to aid him. Quinn had met the man once; he seemed like the sort who would help an ailing man on the front lines. She continued to listen, wondering where this bravado was coming from — all she did was ask a simple question that they were all wondering.

Her eyes rolled as he continued in his long-winded speech about how much he hated the Mandalorians. He wasn't alone — she too hated them. They had destroyed Eshan at one point, but she wasn't stupid. The threat of the Galactic Empire loomed over them; the super weapon they constructed was evidence enough.

She sighed softly. Apparently, the question was too much for the man to handle.

Before she could respond, another — the one that she partially recognized. His face wrinkled, and he seemed to strain over something. The blade at her side warmed in acknowledgment, and small, annoying claws tried to scratch at the barrier of her mind. She raised a brow; it seemed she was the target — another annoyance.

All for asking questions.

Laphisto wasn't worth a proper look, let alone a response. She let him speak into the void while she regarded him with a faint, patronizing sidelong glance. His voice was little more than noise, and she treated it as such.

She didn't even bother giving him a response to his childish request. If this was the head of their military, she began to doubt Rellik's tale. This man didn't know war; he didn't know anything about it. Civilians died in battle — they were the price governments paid. It was unfortunate, but even a naive Jedi understood that concept.

Though, the Wookie's commentary made her chuckle. Zharrfo

The frustration from how the men were talking to her burned under the surface of her skin. It disgusted her how they belittled and didn't bother to learn the titles of their fellow global politicians. They probably didn't even know the name of the current Sith Empress.

She scoffed at his petty threat about not wanting to put heads on spikes. His words would be remembered.

"It's not wise to make empty threats on the head of a Dark Councilor, nor the Heir to the Sith Empire, so casually, Diarch." She commented, her eyes flickering to him for only a moment.

Her words slipped before Velzari addressed, and she listened — she wanted to say more, but the sudden appearance of jasmine calmed her. It wove its way gently into her mind, and Quinn closed her eyes, trying to fight it. She knew it was impossible, but there was some effort. Her breathing slowed, and the anger that boiled at her core subsided.

A hand rested against her lips as she leaned against the side of her armrest. She knew exactly what was happening and who was responsible.

It wasn't entirely unwelcome, but the fire — she wanted to feel it. As her eyes opened, she glanced towards the Zeltron. The woman was busy with her tasks and doing the job assigned to her by the Underlord. She watched her — the careful movement of her hands over the data pad, even the mild reactions on her face as the words were said.

Annoying, but beautiful.

Quinn's attention was drawn once more by the baying calf. Her eyes shifted, watching him posture once more pretending like he held any actual power in this galaxy. They were a forgotten and boring nation that had Mandalorians to play with. Her elders had entertained them at events; she even sought to meet on their worlds. The man's son would have been fun to engage — to toy with, perhaps.

Her eyes met with the pathetic man's, and she sighed. He associated her with someone who threw others away on a whim. Oh, how his intelligence branch failed him. She laughed under her breath as she shook her head.

How ill-informed was this fat king?

He had called her feral, a rat, a snitch, and all that was left was for her to be called a whore, but maybe that was what his other comment was meant to express.

And yet, like cowards, they ran with their tails between their legs.

Quinn remained silent for a moment, and she raised her eyebrows as she thought quietly.

Her hand lifted from her lips as she left her palm open and raised slightly.

"Quite the overreaction to a simple question." Her hand returned to her face as she blinked a few times, surprised by how quickly a few questions turned the flow of the room.

"My apologies for ruffling the child's feathers, Prince Velzari, but I think I have a few presents that might make up for it." She pulled out a small vial from her cloak, turning it over a few times, the purity of the glitterstim already showing in the light.

"Well, at least provide a better profit than what they could have offered."

 

[Velzari Tharn]

B L A C K - S U N - S Y N D I C A T E
V I G O S - S U M M I T​

​

A sharp cackle broke Velzari’s demeanor.

“I offered strikes, you asked for a genocide—which you allowed your own little pet to nix on the table by imposing an incredibly occlusive restriction. ‘Depopulate the worlds of my enemies, but by the stars don’t kill anyone but soldiers!’ That is a war, Diarch. Wars are not fought by syndicates, they are fought by militaries. Perhaps you should use yours, if you’ve so many frivolous constraints to uphold.”

The Underlord’s brows were furrowed by anger and disappointment, but his lips were curled into a smile that didn’t let up.

“If you can’t handle what I demand in the light, there’s no chance I’d ask you for a napkin in the dark. Diarchy’s strength is not equivalent to the Sith Order and Mandalorians combined—I will not sacrifice the network I have built with them both in one fell swoop for credits and a few ships alone. I need something more real. But I see now that the Diarchy either values connections so poorly they’re willing to break them over a cred stick, or you’re hiding an inability to pay the high prices Black Sun requires.”

Either way, this transaction was complete. He’d learned what he needed to know; the Diarchy were hungry vultures eager to feast on what remained of the galaxy, but unwilling to eat the carrion itself. To be fed their success on a spoon was their want, and they couldn’t afford the silver it was cast with.

He leaned back, hands returning to their steepled arrangement as he watched the trio depart. After a moment of silence at the Vigos table, the Underlord spoke.

“Mauve,” he almost purred. “Work with your contacts at the First Bank of Nar Shaddaa and secure three Lucrehulks. I want them to blockade the Hydian-Perlemian junction.” A powerful move made possible by the alliance Black Sun maintained with the Sith Covenant.

His attention shifted to the Princess, a strange look in his eyes that read, ‘how come you’re the only smart one here?’ “You are once again, my dear, the last woman standing. I’m beginning to wonder if you’re using your Sithly abilities to convince your competitors to refuse good deals. That, or I’m sorely underestimating the idiocy of galactic superpowers these days.”

Velzari chuckled deeply, reached for a glass of wine, and sipped half of it. It was sweet, like every deal he’d struck thus far with Quinn.

“You’ve won our isotope-5, now you’ve secured our partnership with the Mandalorians—for now. And, oh! What’s this precious little thing…” he trailed, eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of the glittering vial. “From Kessel? Or have the Sith found another nest to harvest?”

Tags:
[BSS] Vigos | Fenn Stag | Mauve du Vain | Morné Karn | Scherezade deWinter | Zharrfo | OPEN
[DIA] Diarch Rellik | Diarch Reign | Laphisto | OPEN​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Objective 1: Vigos Summit
Wearing: Armatura | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | The Sofitor
Wielding: 8 Nozhi Blades | 2 Whimsy Knifes | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Fire and Smoke | Combat Gauntlets | Tessen | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader KD-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: Velzari Tharn Diarch Reign Laphisto Zharrfo Morné Karn Fenn Stag Velzari Tharn | OPEN

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When Mauve du Vain glanced at her and made the poo slinging comment, there was little Scherezade could do but make herself look completely innocent and give a wide and toothy grin. She had nothing to contribute to the conversation yet, so she maintained her silence about everything else as the verbal sparring resumed. With time, she knew, she would get to know these faces better, and let them get to know her, beyond her sparkly and glittery reputation. And then they'd be having all the fun together. She was surprised to find herself looking forward to it as much as she did.

Then came the dragon-man ( Laphisto ). Scherezade's glowing gaze focused on him as he spoke, battling the need to scratch her head in confusion. The Diarchy was predominantly a Sith-run government, were they not? So why would civilian lives matter to them? Especially civilian lives that weren't part of the Diarchy's influence range. A few memories of years long gone floated to the top of her mind, and she actively fought to silence them. These were not those people.

And the Wookie (Zharrfo ) had his own response, as he apparently chose to sit down. What a shame. Scherezade had half hoped he'd take the violence option and start punching people. Her muscles still tingled from earlier, still wanting a fight. She would have to get it elsewhere that night. Perhaps find some illegal fighting rings on this planet that she'd never heard of before. Heck, maybe she could punch the Wookie herself after the meeting was done, just to antagonize him further and get the energy release she so desired.

Velzari Tharn though was the one to say the words that snapped her back into full attention. Agents of Chaos. He was looking at her. He knew. Of course he knew. She responded with a proud smile and her chin held high. So he knew what she could bring to the table. To the smile, she added a small nod, still as proud as she'd been a millisecond ago.

But in all of the mess, she had missed something. Suddenly there were threats abound, and unhappy people. Dang. She should've paid more proper attention. Right up until the part where Diarch Rellik said Black Sun vessels that enter Diarchy space will be destroyed on sight. Well that was rude. Also sort of redundant. She wanted to raise her hand and ask if that included her, but the meeting was over and he was gone before she could.

Oh well. What could a girl do, other than make plans to fly into Diarchy space in the near future, just to check.

 

[Zharrfo]

VIGOS SUMMIT
Velzari Tharn | Fenn Stag | Scherezade deWinter | Morné Karn | Laphisto | Diarch Reign | Diarch Rellik | Quinn Varanin

Zharrfo rose abruptly, the motion rattling the glassware on the table. He was already done. The entire meeting was worthless: too many egos, too many contradictions, and not nearly enough credits. Let the other Vigos argue themselves hoarse. He needed a drink strong enough to burn the taste of this nonsense out of his mouth.

He stood and made a point of taking up as much space as possible near Scherezade. The Wookiee was a towering wall of muscle and fur, and Zharrfo stepped deliberately into her immediate space. His broad arm swept out, delivering a firm, unmissable shove.

HX-7 fluttered anxiously behind him as Zharrfo strode toward the exit. He didn't look back or offer any apology. The door hissed open, and he vanished into the corridor with a low growl, a clear promise that anyone foolish enough to follow him would regret it.

 

[CT-312]

//: Jorryn Fordyce //:
//: Nearby: V1-L8 Reina Daival Eira Dyn //:
//: Imperial Facility, Dandoran Southern Continent //:
//: Attire //:
//: EQUIPMENT: Halcyon Armour| M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack| M.I. 'Halo' jump boots | Contact Lenses | Wrist Mounted APG | Ancile Shield | Navi/Barca //:
//: FAE/M-06 Eight Blade Razorline Projector| FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II//:
//: WEAPONS: VW 864 Maser Rifle | LO-18D | M.I. Model 7 shotgun | LO-22S | Sunshot Pistol | M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol //:
//: LO-KI/22 Standard Slug Round //:
//: ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT: Kushute Grenades | Shiva Knife | S.A.N.D. Powder //:
//: 1 x Arrow head of Absence | Taozin amulet | LK Spider Slicer Droid //:
//: Objective 2: Worm In The Apple //:​

‘43.’
‘44.’
Faint heel clicks echoed behind her.
‘45.’
‘46.’
CT-312’s HUD pinged a friendly signature drifting into range.
[ IFF: JORRYN ]
‘47.’

"Are you okay taking the lead, I would rather avoid them jumping at me first."

‘48.’ Her rifle swept the hall. Muzzle tracking every vent, corner, any dark recess large enough to hide a corpse with intent. “Forty-eight.” CT-312 finished under her breath. “Maybe don’t antagonize civilians we’re not getting hazard pay for.” It seemed the child and her droid companion would not be joining. That was fine with her. Nothing's changed. “That’s the job.” Giving a small curt nod. “Stay behind me. Don’t get ahead. Don’t fall behind.”

CT-312 continued forward, boots silent on the metal flooring. In the darkness, the corridor swallowed their footsteps. Cold air pressed in from all sides. Emergency lights flickered somewhere far ahead. Too faint to illuminate anything more than shadows.

For the first several meters the walls were clean. Then the signs began. Gouges. Walls scarred by claw and impact marks. Dried bloody splotches and hand prints covered parts of the corridor as it stretched. But still no bodies. The silence pressing against her helmet. This empty eeriness reminded CT-312 of the factory on Malgus. Her first assignment with the Sith. Except this time she wasn’t freezing her ass off.

They reached a branching corridor. CT-312 lifted her left hand up sharply. Stop. Sweeping the rifle toward the right passage first, then the left. The left had a faint pulse of emergency red. Not bright, but rhythmic enough to catch the Scout’s eye. A terminal. Barely alive. The right in total darkness. She double checked with her contact lenses as BARCA fed data of temperature differentials to her HUD. The right side temperatures didn’t align properly. Something moved somewhere deeper inside. Very faint. Dragging.

“Close. Stay quiet.” Speaking barely above a whisper. CT-312 flicked two fingers toward the left passage, directing their path before settling her hand back to the weapon. Steadily making their way to the end. “Cover me.”

CT-312 holstered her rifle one-handed and retrieved a compact slicer droid from one of her pouches. It left from her palm and scuttled into the cracked housing of the terminal. A moment later, lines of data poured across CT-312’s visor.

[ BARCA ]
[ STATUS REPORT ]
Power: EMERGENCY
Security: OFFLINE
Systems: OFFLINE
[ FACILITY SCHEMATICS — DOWNLOAD COMPLETE ]

Tapping her left vambrace to open a holo-interface. “Bad news.” CT-312 said quietly. With a flick of her fingers, she sent the packet to Jorryn’s datapad. "Everything's offline or running on scraps of emergency power.”

“Good news.” Unholstering her rifle as the schematics scrolled across her HUD, “We have the map.” There were chambers, sealed labs, emergency lockdown barricades, and a scattering of old Imperial security checkpoints. One of the routes for the most part was clear. “Best bet is the security room. If we can reboot the grid from there, we’ll get eyes on the whole base. Cameras, sensors, everything.” It'll give them a clearer picture of what they're exactly dealing with.

The slicer droid appeared from the terminal and hopped back onto CT-312’s armor. Disappearing neatly into its compartment. “But once power comes on,” the Scout added, “everything in here will wake up and know we’re here.” Her visor angled down, tracking the delicate heel-clicks beside her. Echoing in the emptiness. “Either way, we’re going to be spotted.”

CT-312 could fight in the dark. She preferred it. The element of surprise. But, she wasn’t sure if Jorryn shared that sentiment. As they resumed forward, her voice stayed low, almost bored, but straight to the point. “What exactly are you looking for here?” The more information she had, the faster she could locate the target and get out.

Ahead, the corridor angled downward. A cold draft swept past them. Her scanner pinged. Somewhere far below, something scraped across metal. CT-312 tightened her grip on her rifle. Ready.

They continued toward the security room.

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: CT-312 Jorryn Fordyce
Location: Dandoran

The Ersansyr continued to move through the corridors cloaked, doing her best to avoid the puddles of grime and gunk. Not because she was squeamish. No. Because it would make too much sound. It was the same reason as to why her lightsaber wasn't ignited. It had taken a while through the descent before Reina stopped for a moment, wondering if this was entirely a good idea. There was every chance that she'd come across the others and be taken by surprise. Or for her to take them by surprise...Maybe it would be better if she marked a way to note where she had went...By the Spirit, her idea was going to be gross, but it was better than igniting her lightsaber.

And so as Reina moved through the corridors, going down various turns, she'd find what discarded limbs she could. Using them as a signpost for lack of a better term. Placing the various legs, arms and hands to point the direction that she had went. The Ersansyr wasn't sure if the Horned Echani would be able to figure it out, considering the main two experiences she had with the woman had been the woman getting wasted at a noodle bar, and flirting with some girl at the entrance. However on the other hand, Reina had plenty of faith that CT would be able to understand that the limbs had been placed in a specific manner.

So gross.

The things she was doing for a payday. For a first encounter with the undead, this was a lot more gross as opposed to the fear that she had been expecting. Not to say that she wasn't afraid. Of course she was. Any sane person would be terrified that they were going to be devoured by some kind of undead freak that was hiding in the darkness. Lurking in some kind of vent, ready to pounce. It wasn't a simple matter of what she could see, and more a case of what she couldn't see. What was in there, hiding in the darkness. Wait. That was it. The undead were hiding. Waiting for something to get their attention...

She swiftly made her way back in the direction Reina had came from, finding one of the labs she had ignored. The door might have been locked, but the windows had been shattered. It didn't look like something had tried to get in however...the shards of glass were laying in the corridor, not in the lab. Whatever had done it was trying to get out. Reina brushed the remaining shards of glass onto the ground before hopping on over into the lab, looking through the chemicals.

Flammable...Flammable...Explosive...Come on...

Piling up all of the different containers she could find, making a small little mound of them. Perhaps this would be a dumb idea. No. It was most definitely a dumb idea. She was basically making a small bomb. One that would echo throughout the facility. A dinner bell. It would bring all of the undead crawling out of their holes. Her understanding of chemistry wasn't the greatest...but this seemed good enough as she took a thermal detonator and stuck it to the bottom of a table within in the lab. Set a timer...and then get out of there. Not without giving a warning of course, as she turned her communicator back on for a moment, to get in contact with CT-312

"You're going to want to find somewhere to hide within the next five minutes. And cover your ears."

And with that, she flicked her communicator back off, hurrying back down the corridor to find a room of her own to hide in. She had to take risks. She had to prove herself. What was a better way to make a name for yourself then a big explosion?
​

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective II // Worm in the Apple //
// Focus // CT-312 // Persephone Dashiell // Reina Daival // V1-L8 //
// Attire //

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Heels tapped away against the steel floor as the Echani finally managed to catch up to the camouflaged trooper, her amour failing to blend in against the steel walls. Admittedly, the black robes did just as little to obfuscate herself, but it hardly mattered when the enemies they hoped to avoid were undead.

They seemed to care little for stealth nor fashion.

Her figure fell in behind the trooper's, allowing the girl to lead the strategy moving forward. She supposed stealth suited the situation more than her usual tactic of simply barging in and cutting down whatever lay between her goal. But even as she crept behind the trooper, CT still managed to find a way and use dry facts to insult the Sith.

"I did not antagonise her!" There was a disbelief that her words could be construed as such, internally denying the possibility. "I saw a young girl and decided she needed help, it's not my fault she decided to take such offence."

There was clearly still a soreness in Jorryn's voice, chewing on the fact she had been so insulted by a teenager. As CT attempted to command her, Jorryn didn't acknowledge the words. She didn't exactly feel like letting a simple trooper take charge of her, and yet she fell in behind the girl and stuck close to her.

It was simple strategy, not subjugation.

The gruesome scene that unfolded failed to turn the stomach of the Sith, it was a familiar violence that much of the Order caused in their conquest. Whether it was the Kainite or the Corpse Legion, many of the Sith seemed intent on leaving wanton destruction and massacre in their wake. It was a relief that the Princess was more measured in her approach, a silent appreciation falling across the Echani that she had vowed herself to someone similarly disinterested in cruelty.

She supposed they had been no different from the imperials of the past, still searching for ways to subjugate the galaxy. There were better ways, though fear always held a people in control. She sighed as the remnants of the past still seemed to haunt them.

Then more directions fell from the mouth of the trooper, staying beside the woman silently as she listened. Spinning on her heels, she crouched beside CT as the trooper began to slice into the terminal. Sounds of activity crept along the steel walls of the hall, and Jorryn found herself uncharacteristically nervous.

And then came more bad news.

A sigh passed between the lips of the Echani, irritated that this mission continued to wear at her patience. Still, a job started needed to be finished.

"There's no helping it I suppose..." A tooth bit into her lip as she continued to listen. At the very least there had been a plan they could set in motion, even if it meant that they need press through a horde of corpses. "Let's get to it."

Once again the trooper took the lead, the map spreading across her visor allowing the woman to act as a better guide than Jorryn's senses could. The blood she felt crawling through this place was decrepit and rotten, turning the sensation against her as disgust crept along her skin.

The sooner she left the better.

"Same as you I assume, I'm here to gather Imperial data." The thoughts turned towards where the information would end up, hoping the Sith wouldn't make the same mistakes. "I'll give it to Quinn, of course. I don't believe she has the same fascination with undeath as some of my fellows. Though I suppose I can't say too much on the matter."

The irony amused her, though quickly passed as a draft brushed against her skin. Whatever lay down there was hungry, all consuming.

Neither of them let fear pause their advance, both already familiar with the brutality such enemies brought. That didn't usually make it any better.

But as the soft gnawing of undead below grew in noise, the blade ready to ignite and dispatch any below, the trooper raised a hand to hear comms device. A hand once again told the Echani to pause, and an irritated eyebrow responded as her patience continued to wane.

Irritation gave way, however, as the loud thunder of explosions removed the eerie silence that hung over the lab and the raucous shriek of those disturbed filled the halls.

"Do your people have no clue how to operate in silence?" There was an irritation in her voice, though she acknowledged the opportunity it provided. "We need to move fast now, before this whole goddamn place wakes up."

Their pace picked up quickly, though slowing when shambling corpses blocked their path. The explosion had called them all towards it, and if the pair remained quiet then the threat would pass. The corpses moved deeper, aiming towards the labs that had originated the explosion.

It worked, the path had been cleared, and yet the final hall to the security labs still held some surprise. Three troopers, armour cracked and blood spilt, stood between them and the security office.

The time for stealth ended as the Echani's patience finally eroded, moving from the cover they held and overtaking the trooper. A hand raised to seize the blood of the corpses, though there was something else. Something clumped against the sanguine vessels laying in their veins, and whatever it was disgusted the Echani.

Instead of ripping the blood from them, she simply held their movements. Pausing them in their place as the lightsaber ignited in a maroon glow, lifting across her right shoulder as she took the heads from two of them. It cauterised the wounds, preventing the infected blood from escaping the wounds.

The final zombie would be left for CT, curious how she would deal with it. As long as it didn't draw more attention, then they would be okay.

After all the corpses had been laid to rest, all that remained was to enter the security office. Slicing would be the most effective, of course, but Jorryn's patience hadn't yet recovered and she chose instead to simply cut down the door that lay between them and their prize.

As the door fell from it's hinges, the burning smell of durasteel still lingering in the air, the pair entered the office and began preparations to boot up the power once again.

"Alright, trooper." A smile was offered as the Echani stood back and motioned towards the panels. "You're up."