Cannibal Carnival | CIS Dominion of Miranda [R-41]

[Paragon of Virtue]

The woman stared at this intruder. This unwanted person inside her house. It wasn’t much of a house, she knew. The houses in Cale city were nicer. But it was still hers and no food had ever entered here while alive.

Still, the woman thought she looked at the stranger, trying to appraise her worth. A woman like that… If she could get the electricity running, they could ration her meat and live as kings for about two months. Her daughter would finally get to know the taste of livers and kidneys. And with that hair… The woman could turn it into a wig and for once in her life look proper.

Dry and cackled lips shifted into a very hungry smile. “No one,” she answered, and put the knife in her belt, quickly fumbling over to bring a chair that didn’t look like it could hold the weight of a chicken on it without crumbling. “Sit. You.” The woman said and pointed at the chair.

The only thing she would have to figure out was how to do the initial butchering. She was not a butcher by trade, had never raised the killing weapon on her own. But there was a first time for everything. “Now!” she urged, trying to smile pleasantly through her lack of teeth. She had the same broken voice has her daughter.

[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]

 

[Darth Miseria]

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Interacting With: [member=Eternal Flatulence]​

Accompanying: Left Group Behind​

Post: Nine​

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So they could speak basic. Dianah couldn't recognize the look on her face as hunger, but she was aware something wasn't quite right. Her eyes scanned the tiny kitchen quickly, taking in what she could as the woman spoke in her cracked, dry tone. The scuffle as she brought the chair out snapped Dianah's head back in her general direction. She could feel her heart beating quickly against her rib-cage as the chair was set in front of the fire.

A demand was made but Dianah made no motion to move save for lowering her hands to her side. She could just have easily stepped forward and lowered her weight into the chair, but something was stopping her. Jaron's voice was screaming out in her head to be cautious, don't barrel in, take your time. The attempt at smile made a shiver run down the length of her spine.

'I'm actually ok with standing. I don't want to disturb your home for longer than I have to. I'm just looking for...' What was the term her Father had used moments ago when he'd chased away the demon child? '...Leftovers?'

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

Leftovers? The woman blinked, not understanding. There were no leftovers on Miranda. Nothing was wasted, everything was recycled. Garbage cans did not even exist on this planet.

She scratched her head, trying to understand what this stranger’s words could mean. Was she perhaps hungry? It was good to feed your food before you butchered it. Calm them down. Make them relax.

Nodding, the mother walked over the cabinet above the sink and retrieved a small box from it. Moving over to the stranger, she opened the lid in front of her. It was a box she kept specifically for the hard times, when a few nibbles of meat were all that stood between mere starvation and death by starvation. And inside the box were…

Fingers. Many fingers, smoked and dried, their leathery meat kept well over time. Many of them still had nails attached, and a little bone peeking out. Ones were great to chew on as well.

“Food,” she nodded, urging the stranger to take a finger. “Eat. Good!”

[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]

 

[Darth Miseria]

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Interacting With: [member=Eternal Flatulence]​

Accompanying: Left Group Behind​

Post: Ten​

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Clearly she had no idea what Dianah was talking about. Whether or not it was a language barrier she couldn't quite tell.

It took every ounce of her willpower not to recoil as the woman flipped open the lid to the box. At least ten or so grisly looking severed fingers sat in the rusting metal tin, stinking to high heaven. Dianah wasn't sure what she'd done to them but they looked rather mummified. Like they'd break your teeth if you tried to bite into them too hard. Dianah swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat, completely unaware that she had been holding her breath the moment the tin had been opened.

'Uh, thanks.'

She reached out and took one of the fingers. Was she really about to do this? The skin felt leathery against her own, like someone had made it and it hadn't been attached to a human once upon a time. She struggled to keep the disgust off her face, but managed to turn it into a forced smile instead.

'Mmm...'

The tip of the finger went into her mouth and... she bit it. Why? Maybe because she assumed it would make the woman more compliant. It wasn't there for long though and in no way did she swallow any of it. Hopefully it would be enough to show the woman Dianah meant no harm, she just wanted to know where her people were.

'I suppose you didn't really understand. There are people here, somewhere? People that look like me? They wear this...'

Dianah turned slightly to flash the symbol of the Confederacy that had been etched into her silver armor. Maybe she'd recognize it.

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

The woman clapped her hands when the stranger put the finger in her mouth. She noted the full set of teeth the stranger had, all pearly white. That was good. They could use it to give teeth to at least two children like that, giving each a partial set that would make chewing easier.

And then the stranger asked about… Other strangers? The woman shook her head. No one ever came into her house, no one other than her and her daughter. But now the stranger was still standing, and the mother was running out of patience.

“No people,” she said, clutching her knife again, “food!”

And with that she launched forward with unexpected strength, aiming her rusty knife for the stranger’s throat. Always go for the throat. If she could get a good cut there, they would be dining tonight.


[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]

 

[Darth Miseria]

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Interacting With: [member=Eternal Flatulence]​

Accompanying: Left Group Behind​

Post: Eleven​

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Tensions ran high in the little kitchen, Dianah could tell the moment she asked about her people. All of a sudden the cannibal woman clasped her hand around the rusty knife and charged at Dianah with fury only a starving person could muster. She was expecting that much. It took her less than a second to react, using her nimble feet to side step the on coming attack.

Without thinking Dianah wrapped her gloved hand around whatever hair remained on the back of the woman's head. Using the momentum from the woman's lunge she threw head first into the rusting metal walls that surrounded them. The sound it made as bone met something equally solid was almost as horrifying as the entire situation. Dianah hoped she hadn't completely crushed her skull.

The thin, sickly woman crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll, a deep cut dripped shockingly red blood down the front of her pale forehead. Kriff. Well, that was one source of information passed out, at least for now. Not wanting to risk any further injury Dianah lent down and swept the rusty knife up, tucking it into her belt just beside her saber. She'd seen the little girl wonder in here as well, now it was just a matter of finding her.

The tin box the woman had offered moments ago lay abandoned on the kitchen side. There was also the finger Dianah was supposed to be eating, still clutched in her free hand. Maybe this would be enough to draw out the demon child. Dianah wafted the finger in the air, letting a stiff breeze catch the scent and carry it around the room. There was no telling if she'd emerge now, not after what Dianah had done to her mother... but it was worth a try.

'I have something for you. Won't you come out?'

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

The little girl had been in the cupboard the entire time, and only by luck had the door slightly opened, allowing her to see all that had passed. She’d been smiling for part of it, hoping the stranger would be agreeable, salivating at the thoughts of a good meal she and her mother would share.

But that was not to happen. Instead, the stranger attacked her mother (don’t argue with what a child interprets, okay?) and now mother was dead.

She left the cupboard then, walking to the body of her mother, and let out a loud wail sound out. “Ma-ma!” the girl screamed, and with the efficiency of one who relied on the dead to feed, put her little hand against her mother’s throat. A person of average strength could have survived the blow. Her mother was too weak and was running on borrowed time as it was.

“Ma-ma! Gone!” she cried, and turned around to the stranger. The stranger had killed her ma-ma. The little girl wanted to kill the stranger, but she still had enough sense of self-preservation to know she could not.

Instead, the little girl sat down next to her mama’s head, her tears already dry, and poked her little bony fingers into her eye socket, trying to wriggle the eye out. Nothing was ever wasted on Miranda.

[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]

 

[Darth Miseria]

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Interacting With: [member=Eternal Flatulence]​

Accompanying: Left Group Behind​

Post: Twelve​

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The cupboard door swung open, the blur of a child shooting out moments later. For some reason that one wail from the demon child's mouth shattered her heart into a million pieces. She might have been a cannibal but she was still a child and the closer Dianah looked at her the more she realized it. Her frosted eyes found Dianah's charcoal ones and, if it were at all possible, she felt more sorry for her than she had ever felt for anyone in her entire life. She didn't understand what was going on, she had no idea eating people was incredibly wrong. She was just trying to survive.

Dianah lowered herself down onto the floor, setting herself just a foot away from the dead woman and her now mourning child. Or, was she even mourning? No. She was trying to pry her eyeball out. Dianah choked back the urge to vomit. Sick, sick, sick. In the past few minutes she'd done more insane things than she'd ever hoped or wished to do in her entire life and she was about to do another.

Leaning forward, she plucked the rusty knife from her belt and jabbed the pointy end into the dead woman's eye socket. It popped out with a noise that Dianah would probably never forget. Thank Ragnos she was wearing gloves.

'Here...' Dianah offered out the severed eyeball to her, along with the finger she had neglected to eat. 'Eat something.'

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

The little girl never noticed any signs that the stranger wasn’t thrilled with what was going on. But when her knife came forward and she severed the eyeball from its socked, a genuine smile appeared on the little girl’s face. Without much ceremony, she shoved the eye into her mouth and closed her jaw around it. It tasted like a piece of heaven, and she took her time with it, chewing slowly, enjoying the sound of crunch and the exploding liquids inside her scurvy-laden mouth.

“No ma-ma,” the girl said quietly after she’d swallowed the eyeball, her eyes focused on the eye-less face of her mother. “Ma-ma bye-bye”.

A sign of grief seemed to wash over her face, her little features convulsing unhappily for a moment. But the little girl shook her head, and went for the second eyeball. But now that she’d had a little bit to eat she was feeling better and stronger, and she yanked it out with relative ease, offering the eyeball to the stranger.

[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]

 

[Darth Miseria]

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Interacting With: [member=Eternal Flatulence]​

Accompanying: Left Group Behind​

Post: Thirteen​

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The smile, though horrific in its appearance, made Dianah grin a little. The noises that followed did not. Dianah smacked her lips together, making a noise that spoke a million words on her distaste for the eyeball that had been chewed and swallowed as if it were a piece of candy.

'No, no ma-ma. Ma-ma bye-bye.'

The words came out as a whisper, clearly there was some regret for what she'd done. She lifted a gloved hand to her head, smoothing her eyebrows out with the tips of her fingers as as the expression on her face turned morbid. Dianah had killed the only thing that was protecting this little demon child and now she was thinking about the repercussions. Nobody would be able to take care of her. She doubted anyone else in this godforsaken planet would bother feeding her, or making sure she had fresh water to drink. Kriff.

When she looked back up at the little girl her hand was outstretched, the other eyeball clutched firmly in it. Dianah's eyes went went and she shook her head. There was no way in hell she was putting an eyeball in her mouth, that was one step to far. Besides, the youngling looked a little better than she had done before, she needed to eat more to gain strength. Though why the hell Dianah cared what this thing felt like was beyond her, it seemed to be an instinct she couldn't shake. One hand reached down for her stomach and she rubbed clockwise. The universal sign for no thank you, I'm full.

'No, full. Not hungry. You eat.'

Dianah watched her with careful eyes, for the first time she fully took in her appearance. Disheveled, broken, clearly diseased. A soft sigh left Dianah's throat as she lent back to rest against the rusted ship walls. In that moment she had made her mind up. She had ruined her life, so she would fix it again. But first...

'Where do you keep all the food?'

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

The stranger was… Not hungry? Full? The little girl blinked slowly, surprised that the mere notion existed at all. No one was ever full on Miranda. The concept was foreign to her child ears. But still, she had been told to eat, and there were things one never said no to on Miranda. The little girl put the second eyeball in her mouth and gave it the same treatment as the earlier one, chewing it slowly, relishing every single moment of it.

When she looked up, the stranger asked a question. The little girl gave a little laugh. Keep all the food? Most of the cabinets here were empty, and other than that box that had already been offered to the stranger, there was nothing else. Not in the kitchen, and not in the apartment.

“No more food,” she shrugged as she opened her mother’s mouth and pulled on the tongue. With the severe malnourishment her mother had gone through, there was not enough saliva to make the tongue slippery. But tongues were generally attached pretty hard, and no matter in what direction she pulled on it or how hard her little hands could do it, the tongue would not snap off.

The little girl bent forward, and bit down on the bit of her mother’s tongue that she’d managed to pull out of her mouth.


[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]

 

[Darth Miseria]

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Interacting With: [member=Eternal Flatulence]​

Accompanying: Left Group Behind​

Post: Fourteen​

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The second eyeball was popped into her mouth. Dianah couldn't describe the relief she felt as the last of the squishing sounds died away. At least she'd never have to hear that noise again. Some part of her hoped that that would be it now, maybe the little girl was full enough to stop picking at her mother like a vulture. Boy, was she wrong.

No more food? She had her answer then. There were no survivors on Miranda. It appears their trip had been entirely wasted.

'Right, well, thanks I guess.'

Just as the demon child lent forward to pull out her Mother's tongue Dianah stood up from her place on the ground. She was more than eager to leave this place behind. Despite her affinity to the dark side she'd seen too many messed up things in such a short space of time, the little girls teeth sinking into the pink flesh of her Mother's tongue being the top of a very long list. Her boots thudded noisily on the metal floor as she made her way to the exit.

But for some reason, she found herself pausing. What in the hell was keeping her here? A loud, long groan filled the silent kitchen as she turned to face the youngling. Dianah stretched her hand out toward her, using the force to snap the box full of fingers into her other. A snack for the little demon.

'Come.'

 

[Paragon of Virtue]

The tongue was harder to chew on than the eyeballs had been. That was how some organs were though. The little girl stared at her mother’s corpse and wished she was strong enough to open her belly and pull the liver out. Her mother had always promised her she would know the taste of liver, but that had never happened. With her mother now gone, it was likely to never happen either.

She was still chewing when the stranger told her to come. Looking up at her face, the little girl frowned. Come? Come where? Was she going to take her to her own people so they would eat the little girl? No, it didn’t feel like that would happen. Something inside the girl…

She saw a big house, furnished with things she had never seen on Miranda. She saw smiling faces, frowning faces, demons, darkness. She saw a place where no one ate people but everyone always had food. She saw… A tree, and a rock, and a woman, and another woman who looked different but was the same.

The little girl blinked, and it was gone as though it had never been there. And just as quickly, she forgot all about it.

Carefully, her head almost dizzy with the knowledge that there was food in her stomach, the little girl rose up to her feet and walked to the stranger, holding her little hand out to her.

“Ma-ma,” was the last thing she said as the two left the old ship.

[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]

 

[Kurenai Yumi]

Location: Near Pandemonium the large tent things
Objective: Rescue Op
People Nearby: [member="Aurelia"] [member="Josiah Denko"]
Post: 3

She had long heard the words of the other Knight while stalking through the camp site and long metal hall ways but had not replied. At this point any unnatural sound, movement or smell would spark the natives off into an alarm... it was a good thing her clothes were already long soaked with blood from years and years of fighting. That too was also an advantage, smell, the captured spacers would smell different from the rest of the place, allowing Kurenai to track them down with ease.

It did not take long for her to find the first make shift cage that housed the 'live stock', said persons huddled in the corner, some asleep others awake keeping a look out for their captors. Giving a small look around the armored figure felt their minds through the force, using persuasion to make them keep quite before moving over to the bars, making sure to give a 'shhhh' sign upon coming into view. Only when this lot was out could they make sound, once that happened it would be a mad dash to the exit, most likely with a horde of cannibals in tail.

Grasping the bars the metal started to heat up, the use of pyrokenisis making the metal glow red with heat before they were suddenly doused with the use of cryokenisis. This would make the metal hard but brittel, a short but firm punch all that was needed to break the bars from their posts, making a decent and silent means of escape for the prisoners. "Keep quite and low, if you make a sound run, I'll hold them off and for the love of the froce done split up what ever you do".

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Post: 4
Objective: 3 - City of the Living (City of the Sane)
Wearing: Obsidian-Type Strike Armour, Knight's Obsidian Ring, Romanus Shield Crushgaunts
Wielding: Obsidian Lightsaber, Mandalorian Heavy Pistol, K-406 Combat Ripper (On leather sash hung around torso) DXR6 Heavy Carbine (On back) Exalazorna-Class Folding Sword (In Dagger Sheath)
Theme: Don't Stop Me Now - Queen
Tags: [Member=Alora Fae], [Member=Alwine Lechner]

He quickly regained his breath, bringing his lightsabre up, then swiped across, decapitating about three zombies. He then grabbed one by it's throat, crushing it, then threw the limp body into a group infront of him, starting to clear a path to/for Alora and Alwine. And he started walking through it, slicing and dicing zombies, blasting others with lightning, clearing his path. When he got within yelling range, his armour mask opened up.

"Are you two just gonna stand there on that hill or---" He was quickly cut off by a larger zombie pulling him and throwing him onto his back on the ground, his lightsabre deactivating and flying out of his hand, as the zombies pinned him to the ground, one got a lucky swipe on his face, cutting right across it, from the top left of his forehead, down over his left eye, cutting across his nose, and then ending at his cheek. Luckily the zombie's claws missed his eye by about a quarter of an inch, or close to five millimetre, though it did scrape his eyelid a bit.

The wound was not fatal, possibly serious, but not fatal. It'd scar, definitely scar. He kicked one right between it's legs, then pushed it up, throwing it off of him, his eyes going fully feral, as did his nature. He was generally starting to act more and more like a Sith, thrusting his hands through the chests of the two remaining zombies, and ripped out their hearts. Then threw them off like rats, their hearts following suite. He then summoned his lightsabre to his hands, and punched the big zombie, that was still ontop of him in it's snout, then chopped off one of it's arms, as it grabbed the wound, he deactivated his lightsabre, and grabbed it's face, pushing it into the ground, then kept pushing, until the head wouldn't naturally go any farther.

At that point a satisfying pop then a crack could be heard, and he pushed himself up from the ground. Putting his lightsabre back on his belt, his black cloak and armour covered in blood, he then grabbed two zombies by his sides by their faces, crushing them slowly, not enough to kill them instantly, but it was a fatal, irreversible wound that would provide the zombies with a slow, painful death. He then grabbed another by a lump of fat on it's chest, which was unusual for the zombies, but not unheard of. He then threw him high up into the air, he then flew back down, crushing two or three of his zombie brethren under his bulk.

Taramaz was one of the main people causing trouble to the hordes of zombies. He then started upper cutting zombies, breaking jaws and giving long term brain damage, if not death. When he got to one of the biggest in the hordes, he grabbed it by it's fat, ugly, monstrous head, and ripped it right off. He then grabbed his lightsabre and started cutting again, slicing his way through the hordes, becoming near untouchable. With his free hand, he started grabbing zombie appendages, where ever they may be, and started flinging the unfortunate owners all over the battlefield.

He finally put his lightsabre back on his belt, and started force pulling and pushing zombies into each other, aswell as force choking some. When he had caused enough mayhem, he started electrocuting them aswell with force lightning, causing smoke and steam to rise, as the bodies were kept standing by the energy keeping the muscles tense. Then when he stopped, the bodies dropped. He stood there for a number of moments, breathing heavily, panting almost, regaining his strength, then he raised his head, sensing the immense numbers surrounding him. They just stood there, confused as to why he wasn't attacking, this gave him the extra time he needed to leap into the sky, drawing his lightsabre, and igniting it, he then propelled himself forward in the air with the force.

He landed on a zombie's face, kicking back from it before it fell, the zombie then dropped, his head no longer where it should rightfully be, instead, it was rolling next to the body. He leapt from the first victim to the next, planting a foot on his chest, then leaping off, the upper body sliced in half by the sabre, he then jumped to the next zombie, and the next, dealing each a fatal blow. He'd made an obvious clearing, thinning the numbers greatly. He then landed on his feet by the foot of the hill where he'd been slashed up. He deactivated his sabre, putting it back on his belt and regained his breath while the zombies lumbered over to him, scared, but also hungry. Guess which drove them more. It took them a good couple of minutes to make their way within his range, which was all the time he needed to regain himself. He knew he'd feel this in the morning, and the next morning, maybe the next. He was pushing his body past it's limits as it was.

When the zombies got within range, he raised them up, with the force, gripping their entire bodies with the immeasurable hands of the force. Then, he slowly closed his fists, putting pressure on the zombies' internal organs and body, ([SIZE=13.3333px]I guess you could say, the zombies were [/SIZE]Under Pressure). He then relinquished his grip, and tightened it, playing with his prey, he held a good crowd of 25-30 zombies, and watching them gasp in relief than scream in pain and agony was amusing. Finally, his fists closed, then tightened, crushing the zombies' internal organs and bodies under the pressure. (Under Pressure much? but seriously, imagine travelling tens of thousands of metres under water, that's what it was like, the zombies' bodies couldn't handle the pressure, just closing your fists a bit might cause irreversible damage.) When he was certain the zombies were dead, he let go of them, their bodies dropping a few metres to the floor.

He grabbed his lightsabre, he'd used a fair bit of energy pulling these stunts, but he had alot more left in him. He then turned his head around to Alora and Alwine again.

"Where was I? Ah yes, before I was rudely interrupted, I was going to ask if you two were going to join the battle, or just watch?"

 

[Kaden Farr]

NETHERWORD
Miranda
WITH: [member="Daisy Americus"]
Post: four

---

This time he had broken further that he had before. Kaden broke through the veil and this time the blonde had heard him, she responded.

"Save me... I'm trapped..."

She was afraid and Kaden could tell, but he needed someone to find him, someone to free him. It was all the effort he had before he vanished once more. A smile crossed his features as he faded into nothingness once more. The ghost was getting through. He would try again, and again, until he was finally free of the darkness that had swallowed him.

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

Location: Dead Hollow Extraction Point [Headed Toward the Carousel Throne]​

In the Company Of: [member="Kyle Naktis"] + [member="Draven Dursden"] + Anyone else that wants to tag along​

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---

Knight Natkis would not hear any sort of apology from the woman beside him when it came to reading his thoughts. She wouldn’t actually know to do so. The infringement had been accidental, in the moment, and not something she’d consciously chosen to do. Either Knight could feel the sense of pressure and depravity in this area. It was impossible to tell whether or not they were actually alone or if there were more creature-features right around the corner. The compressed sense of death, despair, and the isolation of trapped spirits made the Force feel off balance. Hard to read.

“Don’t blink.”

Naedira didn’t actually mean for [member="Kyle Naktis"] to keep his eyes open constantly but just to keep them peeled. She didn’t want him to give up ground. The Knight put down several more of the mutated humanoids while Naedira continued to watch their flank. He could handle himself well enough.

Through the glom she could sense something other than darkness. It stood out like a candle burning bright under a distant shroud of night. All around the light, stood aberrations, snarling, and hungry. Ravenous. A Jedi? Had the Silvers joined them here after all? Nae had heard that some of their numbers would be joining them on the rescue mission, but, she hadn’t personally met many of them. The ways of the Jedi were mostly lost to her. She was a Darcrath. They only knew one way.

Regardless of his alignment, he was an ally, and he didn’t deserve to die on a backwater world of people shaped monsters.

There were at least a dozen crazed locals standing in the trees beneath him. [[member="Draven Dursden"]] Naedira brought her fingers to her lips and released a shrill whistle. The filthy, rabid, and angry creatures turned in her direction with the noise and seemed to zone in on both herself and Knight Naktis. Naedira had a hard time referring to them as human. There was nothing in their eyes that denoted any sort of empathy or awareness. They had the eyes of animals. She would put them down the same way. “Incoming.”

The Obsidian, fully hooded, and masked, began to fire her sidearm once the pack of mongrels got close enough. When one fell they didn’t even stop to check. They just trampled the body and kept moving, whooping, and screaming, like hounds from a nightmare. Her eyes narrowed from behind their covering. She wouldn’t have enough rounds in her sidearm for all of them. Her off-hand reached behind her back and pulled free a sword. At least, it looked like one.

When the first cannibal in the line was within a few feet of her the woman swung her arm out and flicked her wrist. The sword became a whip, with an electro-plasma chain, and she wrapped it tightly around the neck of her enemy. She pulled the male to the ground before spinning out to drive her elbow into the face of a woman about her size. There was a satisfying crack, a spray of crimson that followed a broken nose, and a keening wail of pain. Naedira pulled back on the whip and pressed her booted foot on the upper back of the male. Another crack. He stopped moving. Broken neck, dead.

The woman wailed and threw her body in Naedira’s direction, to which she sidestepped, and once again lashed out with her bilari-electro chain whip. She could feel the native trying to get away, shrieking as the whip burned, but the Knight made it easy. Simple. One of the few remaining shots in her sidearm was leveled at the back of her enemies head. The shot should have been deafening, just like the others, but with every life extinguished the Darcrath woman heard it less and less. The world turned into something very clear, very black and white.

It was kill or be killed. Naedira would not die here today.

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Objective: Carousel Throne
Location: CIS Fleet
Tags: [member="Naedira Darcrath"]
Post: 1

A nondescript shuttle emerged from the asteroid field in a sharp bank, fresh off a maneuver to avoid certain death. Though the vessel looked like so many employed by the Confederate Defense Force, this particular asset was returning an individual to the CIS that had been absent for just over two weeks now. Officially, on a leave of absence, Aiden had taken the opportunity to visit his ancestral homeworld. From within the void of the Force where all things eventually returned, Aiden had received word from his ancestors. The time for further action was steadily drawing near. Still, there was much to be done before any vision or purpose could truly be fulfilled.

Seated casually in the main passenger compartment, bright orbs peered out from behind long strands of hair as Aiden opened his eyes. Most of his spare time was often spent in meditation. It kept the Sith Lord centered and focused in the galaxy that was rife with distractions, pursuits that did nothing to improve upon the quality of the galaxy. Yes, Aiden knew pleasure just as any sentient being, but he was never driven, motivated by such. The only things that had a place in his life had a far more effective purpose than simple entertainment or whatever collection of ideals sentients seemed to colloquially refer to as love.

As the depth of his presence swelled from the base of his soul to encompass as much of the surrounding area as possible, Aiden became cognizant of two distinct realities. The first was that apparently during his time in hyperspace and then again traversing the asteroid field, the Confederate Defense Force had initiated their investigation onto the planet below. From the mission details that he recalled signing off on remotely to order the Defense Force into action, Aiden knew of the Vicelord's personal interest. The second thing to become apparent to him was that of the only person whom possessed anything that even approached a readily identifiable presence outside of [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"].

An expression that approached what could be termed a thin smile briefly adorned the Sith Lord's facial features before he reached over to the interior vessel communicator. Simultaneously, he picked up a datapad that was direct-streaming continuous updates on tactical objectives on the ground. While Naedira's presence was enough to pique his interest, the reports coming in about all manner of unexpected...complications were enough to convince Aiden to alter his flight plan. "Captain. Change of plans, set us down near this extraction point. I'm indicating its location on the joint tactical display now."

The pause was brief, but Aiden was not expecting a verbal answer anyways. He merely desired compliance. In the next fifteen seconds, Aiden could hear the familiar whine of the sublight drive being pushed to maximum output. It would be little more than twenty minutes before the vessel was initiating his re-entry interface. The resultant, brilliant fireball lit up the sky for miles in every direction until the shuttle finally passed low and slow enough into the atmosphere for the friction of air molecules against the hull to cease creating the visible signal.

"Fifteen minutes to skids down, Excellency."

 

[Srina Talon]

Interacting With: [member="Eternal Flatulence"] + Carnies of Pandemonium
Accompanying: [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"] | [member="Darth Ivum"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"] | [member="Lirka Ka"]

The memories that [member="Jaron Lesan"] pressed into her Master did not just linger in his head. She was bound to him, through the Force, and they wound unbidden into her cranium as well. Winter gray eyes flickered over the Dark Knight that had claimed Dianah. He seemed sincere, however, the Apprentice of the Vicelord did not have the patience for sentiment and overtures. Especially not here. Not when visions of death, carnage, and gnashing teeth kept teasing at the edge of her being.

Ash. Blood. Burning—Hate, hunger, desperation.

From the point in which [member="Darth Metus"] had released the explosive ordinances from the Dauntless the area nearest to the Carousel seemed to descend into madness. The might of her Master had swelled, eclipsing everything else, and the Apprentice was abruptly reminded of the power he held. The young woman hadn’t seen any strong displays of the Force from the former Mandalorian since Maramere. It had been a terrifying journey. A silent hell.

But, the Confederacy always did what needed to be done, no more, no less. With that in mind, it would soon become clear that these humanoid beings would die. They were hostile, cannibalistic, and more importantly—In the way.

Srina surveyed the scene as the Dauntless fell into formation and [member="Darth Ivum"] moved to join his father. @Dianah Vi’Dreya seemed otherwise occupied with the carousel…But, aside from that, there was no reason for her to move yet. Instead, she noted the placement of their enemy, their movements, and hierarchy. Metus had torn images of their missing people from the mind of one of the unfortunate souls and she could only follow along. She saw through his eyes. She felt his orders before they became words.

[member="Lirka Ka"] would not disappoint. Srina had seen what the Sephi was capable of on Kalinda. These people seemed to be a mix of either extremely weak or extremely strong. Everywhere she looked, she saw the effects of disease, feminine, and inbreeding. Echani senses were keen, and generally speaking, missed very little. The cannibals had eyes that were too close, or too far apart, with misshapen limbs and extra digits where there shouldn’t be. It was the dredges of a society that had devolved into something less than human. She couldn’t begin to understand it. But, she didn’t need to. They had arrived to save their citizens. If they were still alive? They would find them.

Dianah seemed to be following the little toothless-girl, perhaps, trying to find their people? Srina had glimpsed bits of her words through Darth Metus, as she did many a thing, but her focus was on the growing crowd of psychotic hostiles. If they wouldn’t share where they were keeping their people, and wouldn’t stop attacking, something, would need to give. They didn’t balk at the Force that her Master had used against them. They didn’t balk or cower in fear. They just kept coming.

The almost inhuman stillness that had fallen upon her broke when she stepped forward, slow, and sylphlike compared to the frenzied movements of those around her. Her lightsaber was bright, a flare of brilliant white, before it sliced through the torso of an approaching enemy. His movements had been strange while he jabbed at her with a rusty knife. Was he trying to dance and stab her at the same time?

Srina, who lacked all sense when it came to social queues, dismissed it and pressed onward. Her eyes were on the cannibal with the top hat. The one that had decreed them to be food. He seemed to be the one calling the shots. “If at first, you don’t succeed my Master…”, she called to Metus, sidestepping an enemy, before the Dauntless fired around her form effortlessly to put a second dancing fool down. “Try, try again.”

‘Take the information from the Ringleader. He will know.’

 

[Daisy Americus]

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Location: Near Cale City [Closer to Dead Hollow]​

Tag: [member="Kaden Mantis"] | [member="Roy Americus"] | [member="Jo Americus"]​

“Who are you?”, Daisy questioned the spirit with a certain level of apprehension. She wasn’t some darksider, or some Forcie, that ate up shadows and voodoo-like waffles. This man kept appearing to her all over the verse. Why? Why her? She wasn’t the strongest sensitive in the area by far. The cotton-pickin’ Vicelord was just a half-dozen clicks away in the other direction.

He said he was trapped. That he needed to be saved. How could she save something she couldn’t touch? How could she trust that it wasn’t some sort of Sithy ruse? Abruptly, the man began to fade. She took a step forward but it didn’t seem to need to matter. “Hey! Ah was askin’ you a question!”

She blinked and he was gone. The fear that gripped her was plain. Darn-tootin' she was scared. Either that or she was losing her everlovin’ mind. Daisy put her hands over her eyes for a moment before she picked up her helmet and put it back on. Lord above.

“Ah I am goin’ out of mah mind.”

She turned and headed toward the last known location of [member="Jo Americus"] and [member="Roy Americus"]. They weren’t far off, on the outskirts of some kind of cityscape, but she wanted to get away from the area where she’d seen that ghost. Eventually, she could see a crowd of people starting to form and she winced. What had Paw and Roy gotten into? “Hey—Pardon me.”, she spoke aloud as she brushed by the ill-clothed locals. Once they realized she was in full armor they gave her a wide berth. They looked destitute. Poor wasn’t even the correct way to describe it.

Her heart went out to them in a way she couldn’t really put words to. Broken teeth, not quite healthy at all, plenty of jaundice, and an overall appearance of a group that didn’t eat well. It was the saddest thing she had ever seen in her life. Surely, the CIS would help them.

No one deserved this.

“Paw? Roy? What happened? Are you okay?”

Her HUD was picking up more people headed this way. Daisy frowned. They weren’t walking. They were running at a full tilt. The purple and white of her armor glistened in the dreary air as she turned toward the direction the others were coming from. More concerned neighbors?