Cats on Fire

[Darth Veles]

Sekalus used to be an average planet before the Black Rose’s intervention. Corrupt, yes; crime and violence flowed freely through the streets, especially in the capital, and yet the population did not suffer terribly under the king’s tyrannical fist. Definitely not as much as under the new leadership that came riding on the promise of prosperity and justice. Little did its citizens know the Black Rose desired to transform the entire planet into a giant experiment to test their unnatural, freakish creation. With much of the sentients transformed into an all-female, undead, mind-controlled Sithspawn possessing strong lesbian tendencies and bearing few characteristics common to cats, Sekalus had turned into a graveyard, danger lurking around every corner.

It would be a lie to say everyone had succumbed to the virus though. For all Veles knew, living sentient beings continued to inhabit the planet, but the exact nature detailing their survival and reasons to stay remained a mystery to him. What about the planetary defence? Again, the Mon Cal possessed little information, although the mental image of sithspawn acting as the planet’s peacekeeping force defied all logic and common sense.

Softly touching the ground in the middle of a clearing, Veles’ ship stopped into stillness and immediately flooded out several knights of Ren over its boarding ramp. Tall grass, clean air and pleasant temperature welcomed them. Mountain peaks dusted in snow could be spotted far away, separated from the group by lush forests and incredible distance. The picturesque panorama desperately tried to trick the arrivals into thinking this world differed from other Dark Side infested planets. Lies, all of it! Unlike Dromund Vatsu, Sekalus understood trickery and its benefits. A single scratch from the infected Croa and even the greatest Force sensitive would be turned into a wild freak. Nobody wanted to end up like that, hopefully!

Flanked by four HRDs armed with flamethrowers, the amphibious Sith Lord emerged from within the vessel’s confines, his frown a reply to the planet’s treacherous welcome. Subtle footsteps carried him behind the rest of the group, big eyes staring off into the distance. He should have stopped the insane pseudo-Sith from unleashing their mad fetish upon the world. Unfortunately, when he first set foot on the planet, the deed’s already been done. Then came the plan for a coup, the purchase of a small HRD army… and then he brought the Black Rose’s end through bankruptcy. While the organisation existed no more, its leaders continued to draw breath, hiding for Veles’ vengeful blades desperate to kiss their throats.

Avreet blinked a few times and viewed the group through the cybernetic eye replacement.

“I trust everyone understands the mission – we are to infiltrate the supposedly abandoned phrik mine and claim the ore. Be careful though. Only death can free you from the virus’ grasp once you get infected.”

A sly smirk crossed his features and the amphibious assassin walked off into the woods.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Darth Veles"]


Sekalus. It was a rather perplexing, if not downright bizarre world. For starters, there was a Force nexus, though that was not particularly exceptional. What made this world stand out was the fact that it was infested by thoroughly repulsive, loathsome creatures. They called themselves the Croa.


For reasons that transcended logic and common sense, the Black Rose cult had tried to transform the planet's entire population into these docile, all-female, feline mutants, which were commonly referred to as catgirls. Doubtless this had something to do with disturbing fetishes that good taste and decency forbids elaborating on.


Needless to say Archangel heartily disapproved of such heinous acts. The machine cult was very big on hygiene, after all. There were beings in the universe that were too repulsive to be processed into a superior machine form. The Croa were among them. If it were not for the fact that Sekalus was rich in phrik, there would be little reason not to raze the planet from orbit, thus freeing its populace from its curse.


However, this would be a stealthy raid to grab some of the precious ore. Enyo's face was impassive when the transport reached its destination and the Sith Lord passed on instructions about the nature of their mission. Her Cylix bolt pistol was a reliable tool of purgation when it came to liberating Sithspawn of their condition by blowing them up. Moreover, her gauntlet was equipped with a mini flamethrower. She carried herself differently than during the missions on Thakwaa and Dromund Vatsu. More confident and self-assured. Perhaps also a bit stronger in the Force. The Mon Cal received a curt nod of acknowledgement, then she followed the group into the woods.

 

[Visser Chernykh]

He didn't like being under the fish's direction again. The alien freak was vain and foppish. His arrogant speech set the human's teeth on edge. Yet Mael couldn't dismiss the Mon Calamari entirely.

He was dangerous and far from stupid. Then there were his orders to follow [member="Darth Veles"]. So he bit his tongue and followed. Into the treeline of Sekalus' seemingly endless jungles.

Speaking of freaks. The world was abundant with lesbian cat-woman abominations. The result of the former Black Rose's playing about with nature. It was even possible that he might be afflicted.

Mael wasn't entirely comfortable with Sith alchemy. He could understand that it had a purpose. It was still mainly the domain of individuals playing god. Beings willing to destroy order for their own egotism.

He saw [member="Enyo Typhos"] overtake him with her brisk stride. Another threat to him in recent days. Something was different about her. His hand caressed his lightsaber's hilt without thought....

 

[Zak Dymo]

"Bu koo ketkaha doth bu ketkaha xee p'o nuu..."

Holding up a small bag, the boy gently shook the contents. A rattling sound could be heard from within, but it was perhaps the material of the container that was the more interesting. It was handmade. Obviously crafted from hide that had been flayed and cured in the archaic manner, then sewn using some kind of natural catgut. But that was what made the small parcel so eerily attractive. As natural as it otherwise appeared, it was anything but. Instead, it was tainted. Touched by something powerful, a lingering presence that was both otherworldly and dark...

Turning the bag over, a loose assortment of bones and bits of bones shook out from the bag. Letting the pieces fall where they may, the boy set the small leather bag aside before he returned his attention. Hovering his hand over the bones, his voice again intoned with the ancient language of the Primeval authors. "Jee phaba du bu Primeval, bu Checekeie, an bu cohai dee Chawaka. Jee wanta um baw wah Balagoth, joppay bu bkaua lwaa spastika kushunkoo twa banieie an tytung kaa noa'a re'woy."

The boy then made a ceremonial gesture, touching the lower part of his mask - to indicate his mouth - then his forehead, followed by the center of his chest.

When he had done that, the young Pantoran began gathering the bones back into the bag. Some may have recognized them as the bones of a rancor, but that would not have been entirely correct. They were the wrist and finger bones of a tarentatek, cut from the body of the same beast whose skin and entrails formed the small leather bag which now carried them.

...and whose poison had forever sealed the child's connection to the Dark Side of the Force.

Securing the satchel to his belt, the armored form of the child rose from where he had been kneeling in prayer. A black, cord-like form shifted. The mirror-like scales of the amphistaff stirred by its master's movement. The dragon-like head of the creature reflected in the mirrored transparisteel of the boy's expressionless helmet.

Interesting that the Sith Lord had brought with him flametroopers. For his part, any Sithspawn crossing paths with the Pantoran could expect a rather cold reception.

Walking down the ramp, the boy was careful not to overtake [member="Darth Veles"] and instead kept the Sith where he could see him.

 

[Wolf]

[member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Skjold Alexeyev"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"]

It was a strange planet indeed, and Wolf did not find the idea of being infected with a strange virus that would turn him into a mutant very appealing. And yet, it looked so peaceful, and beautiful. A gentle breeze moved over the grass, and Wolf had to urge himself to remember the darkness that lay within this planet. He moved to walk in step with the others, following the Mon Calamari Sith Lord into the woods. There were familiar figures around him, and others not so familiar. Noticing Mael Ren, whom he had met before, Wolf gave him a nod in greeting. The Knights of Ren certainly could not be faulted for a lack of diversity, as Wolf once again saw the Knight of Ren, [member="Boo Chiyo"], who seemed to be but a boy, with his strange rituals and attire. Wolf decided to walk next to the boy, who had piqued his interest enough to find out more.

"I do not believe we have met. My name is Wolfgang Krieger, though most call me Wolf. And yours?"

Wolf extended a hand to shake the boy's. Whether he responded to it or not would remain to be seen. They were on the hunt for phrik, and would be infiltrating an apparently abandoned old mine in search of it. The planet highlighted the dangers of Sith magic and alchemy to Wolf, and though he was untrained in the Force he felt that even if he was trained, he would still not venture into the murky waters of Sith alchemy. Wolf was sure it had its uses, but it was all too easy for it to create a realm of chaos and suffering rather than the harmony and order that the Imperial cause strove for.

 

[Darth Veles]

It was impossible not to notice Enyo’s expression perfectly matching that of the HRD units; cold, emotionless, just like stone. Veles’ cybernetic gaze carefully studied the young woman’s face, yet got involuntarily caught by her striking resemblance to Siobhan Kerrigan once more, resulting in an awkward stare. Emotions glittered like jewellery inside the Sith’s large bulbous eyes when he observed Enyo and thought of Siobhan instead. Not with grudge or anger poisoning his mind, no; Veles lusted for a rematch. Despite losing the first round, he had survived and emerged stronger than before. Like a true Sith, pain and defeat only made him more powerful, enough to correct his past mistakes. Repeating the fight without those would undoubtedly bless him with victory this time, for he only had to deal the first blow that would also mark the fight’s swift termination.

After offering the brown-haired woman a sweet smile, the amphibious assassin turned his head and marched into a forested area in swift, powerful strides, his limp pronounced through the cane’s taps and simultaneously masked by long shadows crawling under the surrounding trees. The Sith Lord could sense the suspicious eyes of others sticking into his back, yet not a single motion of Veles’ body bothered to address that. Instead, the Mon Calamari walked the path he had discovered during his first visit to Sekalus. Memories of the expedition continued to linger fresh inside his mind, painting an imaginary line over the ground for him to follow. Indeed; the Darth would not deny his responsibility for the mine’s very creation if inquired. Smiling under his whiskers, Veles picked up speed, knowing the destination to be nearby, right in the forest’s centre.

Rusty and alone, the skeletal structure of an elevator came to sight and heavily disfigured the forest’s green face. Stumps dotted the small clearing, dominated by a landing pad that had already succumbed to the nature’s merciless retribution, laying broken and unable to return to its old purpose. Veles confidently walked over to the elevator and nodded towards one of the droids. The machine obeyed the unspoken command and entered the platform, accompanied by the remaining droids. They were the first to descend and secure the lower floor.

As the elevator grumbled down, Veles spared the droids one last glance before turning to the group, silent.


[member="Wolf"] [member="Boo Chiyo"] [member="Skjold Alexeyev"] [member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Visser Chernykh]

An elevator had been the last thing he'd expected. Certainly a temple or the ruins thereof but not a lift. He watched the Mon Calamari walk onto the platform. His limping stride spoke of confidence born of experience.

Somehow the jungle hadn't rendered the elevator inoperable. The small landing pad was beyond hope of repair. It made him frown with misgiving. Clearly their goal lay at the bottom of the elevator.

He also had noted the fish's apparent weakness. As to how real it was he couldn't say. It may well have been some kind of act. Inviting potential rivals to reveal themselves in his moment of apparent weakness.

Mael would keep his vigil. He stepped towards the platform and waited.

[member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Wolf"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Darth Veles"], [member="Boo Chiyo"], [member="Skjold Alexeyev"], [member="Wolf"]


Siobhan Kerrigan and Enyo Typhos. Physically, Enyo was the spitting image of her 'sister'. Same genes, but destiny was not determined by DNA. One had come from the gutter and now reigned as a de facto queen over her own kingdom after having ascended to the top on a road paved with corpses. The other had been born in a cloning tube at the behest of machines and was supposed to be the instrument of her template's destruction. Of course, there was far more to it than saying that one sister embodied power, the other craved it. For now, Kerrigan lived in ignorance of her mirror. That would change one day.


Enyo's expression mimicked that of the HRDs, as if she'd been carved out of stone. In a way, she admired the lethal, dispassionate efficiency of the machines. By comparison, organics were so...messy with their emotions. Yet, she also had two sisters, fellow clones she loved dearly. Contradiction? Possibly.


Her eyes met those of Darth Veles for a brief moment. The amphibian Sith was not a friend, but she respected him well enough. He seemed different from the other Sith she'd heard of. She did not pay his limp and cane much mind. As someone who'd heard about the Contruum duel, she knew it was not fake. Her sister walked with a bad limp and her power was apocalyptic.


However, what commanded her attention was the young Pantoran lad. He looked like a boy, but his aura and stance told her that though he may be a child physically, he had seen blood and death and knew warfare. Ironically, he was probably more experienced than Enyo, who might wear the face of an adult, but was actually not even three years old. The power of the Dark Side radiated from the blue one, who made strange ceremonial gestures and seemed to be...chanting something in an alien tongue that Enyo could not identify.


"What is the language you're speaking in? What do the words mean?" she asked quietly. The clone followed the fish and the rest of the group as they made their way towards a perhaps conveniently placed lift. The fact that the Sith knew exactly where it was did not surprise the clone, for she knew that he'd once been one of the Black Rose's leaders - apparently the only one who was not a lunatic, though he had not prevented the madness either. As it turned out the lift was still functional, so she stepped towards the platform. Her senses remained alert, just in case disturbingly affectionate, feminine felines decided to ambush them.

 

[Zak Dymo]

The small form clad in the Primeval armor continued forward, making no immediate reaction to being joined by another.

"My name is Wolfgang Krieger, though most call me Wolf. And yours?"

Wolfgang Krieger. Interesting. That he would give a name such as that suggested that the man had not been long among them. Or, not yet initiated into the brotherhood of Ren. Turning his head up just slightly, the man would have caught sight of his own reflection in the blank, mirrored finish of the transparisteel plate that dominated the front of the boy's mask. "Chiyo Ren," the youth answered simply. The vocabulator flattened his voice somewhat as it filtered from out of the helmet.

Turning his head forward once more, the child continued on for another couple of steps. Then, casually, added, "People call me Boo."

In truth, the name Boo was as much of a fiction as was Chiyo Ren. But it was a fiction he'd grown accustomed to. So either name worked as well as the next, but Boo was the more familiar to him.

"What is the language you're speaking in? What do the words mean?"

As the boy stepped onto the lift - which was itself interesting for how the Sith was leading them. Darth Cuttlefish had done his homework to know that this would be here - the boy's head turned up in the opposite direction of before. The mirrored transparisteel holding now the reflection of a brunette. "It is the language of the Primeval," the boy answered simply. He rummaged around the pockets of his suit for a moment. He always carried a religious tract on him, just for moments when it might be convenient as now. "A prayer that Balagoth guide our steps," he explained, holding out a flimsiplast strip toward the woman.

It was a statement of beliefs of the Primeval, written in Aurabesh so it could be easily understood. It described the primordial entity of Sargon and the three gods of creation: Nogras, the goddess of all light; Balagoth, the god of shadow and transformation; and, Halrormalenth, the god of all imperfect creation.

 

[Visser Chernykh]

Mael turned his attention to Chiyo as he spoke. There had always been something about the youth. Something eerie and unnatural in his aura. He supposed the Primeval to be some cult.

That would explain his voodoo-like rituals. Casting of the bones and drawing of runic symbols. Sacrificing creatures to supposed gods and goddesses. It had always struck Mael as a pantomime.

There was still power there. Witches and shamans had always commanded the Force. They didn't understand it for what it truly was but had certain skills. Often the power of illusion and suggestion were their domain.

They could command massive beasts such as the rancor. Some had powers of healing after a fashion. They often held positions of prestige on the world in which they lived. It was thought they could speak to the supernatural.

Beings would follow their shamans for they communed with the deities. This often gave them power over life and death. Useful to have as client rulers. Dangerous to have as opponents.

Mael was reminded of the Dathomirian witches. Primitives who'd managed to stand up to the Emperor Palpatine. They'd even been a threat enough to warrant suppression. But that had come to an end with the Sith Lord's death.

Chiyo Ren was a true believer in the Supreme Leader. That garnered him a sense of respect from Mael. A strong disciple for the First Order with diverse skills. He followed the Pantoran onto the platform in silence.

[member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Wolf"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"]

 

[Wolf]

[member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Mael Ren"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"]

"And how does a follower of the Primeval find himself in the service of the First Order, Boo?" Wolf then turned to woman who had also asked the boy a question. "And I did not catch your name either?"

Wolf was one of the few, perhaps the only one, to be pleased at the Sith Lord's presence, and felt reassured by his leadership. He did not hold the same dislike of Sith that many others did, being a former acolyte himself, instead having a distaste for those particular Sith who could not unite under a common cause and simply served their own interests. Darth Veles, however, seemed a reasonable being, and one that could further the First Order's goals greatly. While Wolf was instinctively Imperial in nearly all respects, he did not share many of his fellow Imperials' distaste for non-humans. He could understand the rational arguments for humanocentrism, with a stronger and more robust social order and hierarchy, better social cohesion and further prevention of community divisions and tensions. Nevertheless, he held no personal animosity to aliens, and the Mon Calamari Sith Lord was a prime example of how non-humans could hold great value for the First Order.

Like others among them, Wolf was surprised to find an elevator, and looked around at the group he was in as the elevator slowly descended. He hand rested on the hilt of his vibrosword, they were on a hostile and dangerous world and he had to be ready at a moment's notice. He pondered what sorts of challenges they might face. No doubt there was a strong possibility they would come across these 'cat girls'. Wolf turned to Darth Veles now, curious about what was to come. He had remembered that the Sith Lord had introduced himself as Avreet the last time he had worked with him.

"Avreet, these cat women, what weaponry do they possess, and is there anything else we should know about them? Aside from them, what other threats do you think we may face in that mine?"

 

[Darth Veles]

Primeval? That certainly explained a few things, though it also raised a few more questions concerning the cult’s business with the First Order. None of the ideas that came to the Mon Cal’s mind were good, given he had heard plenty about the old allies of the One Sith. Did this mark the end of the First Order, then? Only time would tell, but the Darth could not shake off this bad feeling in his gut, knowing too well what happened when the weak and incompetent were given too much power. It also reminded him to finally deal with the Black Rose and all its remains scattered over the galaxy; all fools who have failed to realize their lack of vision and control, focused one momentary impulses like the most primitive beasts acting on their instinct. The Sith Lord only had to tip off the Galactic Alliance and let the zealots deal with his former colleagues – Veles truly enjoyed when he could pit one enemy against another.

“Some use blasters, others claws and teeth – just don’t get scratched or bitten. And avoid their black goo. You'll see what I mean.” The Darth answered to the Ren who raised the question regarding the filthy sithspawn.

The amphibious Sith pivoted on his heel and gazed down the dark hole, an equally dark frown plastered to his face. Just as he summoned the lift to return by touching the machine’s control panel, fiery tongues illuminated the menacing hole’s bottom, indicating the four droids have encountered something. Of course the Mon Calamari had a very good idea of what monstrosities awaited them, having witnessed the Croa virus’ effects on people. A few seconds later, the elevator had finished its shamble back to Sekalus’ surface, the sound of machinery immediately replaced by the thud of boots marching over metal plates. With everyone loaded, the platform moaned and slowly made its way down the gaping hole. The assassin remained silent, eyes focusing their gaze towards the blue circle above their heads that was the sky.

Thudding upon meeting the ground, the elevator announced its arrival. Pitch black night dominated the mine, not a single light source aside from the distant sunlight reaching from the top – and fresh flames licking suspicious heaps on the floor. Several petite corpses recently charred to crisp confirmed Veles’ fears – sithspawn slithered within shadows. Every now and then, the Sith Lord could see a faint spark of eyes flick through the darkness, quick to vanish back into the dark tunnels before the droids could react and roast another. Careful not to touch the remains, Veles’ booted feet carried the man over the signs of struggle. In one fluid motion, a curved hilt appeared in his hand, the lightsaber’s ignition button lovingly stroked to produce a red plasma beam that cast an eerie crimson hue over the walls and scared away the nearest shadows.

An elegant flick of Veles’ wrist rapidly brought the blade up and hissed through the first Croa to attack him.


[member="Enyo Typhos"] [member="Mael Ren"] [member="Wolf"] [member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Wolf"], [member="Boo Chiyo"], [member="Darth Veles"], [member="Mael Ren"]


Primeval. Enyo had heard of the cult of religious zealots. They'd cut a bloody swathe across the Tingel Arm, humbling the Mandalorians at Wayland and the Silver Sanctum at Ziost by giving both of them a good clobbering, before disintegrating in a self-destructive Gotterdaemmerung.


Incidentally, Enyo's sister had been heavily involved in both battles. She and Kaine had faced each other in an apocalyptic duel on Wayland, battling each other to exhaustion while the forest burnt, and she'd traded blows with the Host Lord upon the snowy plains of Ziost.


Was the enemy of her enemy her friend then? The Pantoran zealot offered her a flimsiplast a strip, a pamphlet that contained a statement of beliefs of the Primeval church. Enyo felt like declining, but then acting on impulse she accepted the offering. It vanished inside her backpack. "Thank you."


There was no time for further socialising, for the lift had reached its destination, and they marched into darkness. One might as well have put up a sign that said in bold letters 'Here be Croa', for the Archangel HRDs had already happened upon the loathsome creatures and were initiating purification protocols.


The Force called to her, and Enyo answered. Her bolt pistol found its way into her grasp and she fired, blowing a Croa's head off with an APEB round before it could fall upon her with its claws. The feline crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Enyo liked to think of herself that she was not xenophobic, for looking down upon another sentient being for racialist reasons was the mark of an unenlightened spirit, but she could not help conclude that this creature's features were most repugnant. She shuddered at the thought that this had once been a human.


Black goo spread across the ground, but fortunately her light armour was sealed. Her lightsabre ignited with a snap-hiss, manifesting a purple beam that blocked a blaster bolt, before burying itself in the skull of a feline and extinguishing the creature's brain matter.

 

[Wolf]

[member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Mael Ren"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"]

The pleasant atmosphere of this planet had abruptly come to an end. Wolf had nodded at what Avreet had told him about these cat abominations and now already found himself thrust into danger as they discovered charred corpses upon their arrival, courtesy of the droids. Wolf drew his vibrosword, his eyes squinting into the shadows to see what was lurking within them. His mind was on edge as he saw pairs of eyes flicker, movements in the dark that unnerved him. Wolf was still unskilled in the Force, and could not sense the Croa's presence. For a brief moment, Wolf felt a sense of relief as Darth Veles' lightsaber was ignited to cast light upon the shadows. The relief was quickly dissipated as it revealed the monsters lurking in the dark. And in a moment, the Croa were upon them.

Wolf growled, his body moving into action, he held his vibrosword with both hands as he ran, swinging it around his head and down across the first Croa to attack him. A sickly black substance squirted from the Croa's neck as her head was separated from her shoulders. Wolf grimaced, remembering the words of Avreet, and leapt backwards to avoid the putrid substance. Before gathering any time to recover, another one of these creatures was upon him. Wolf stepped forward, his vibroblade piercing through the Croa's torso and appearing on the other side. The creature screeched, and Wolf kicked it off his blade and let it whimper as it fell to the ground, dead. He swore under his breath as he realised his blade was now covered in the black substance, but that could be dealt with later.

There was a lapse of concentration as Wolf looked around the room to the rest of the group, and the Croa they were dealing with. As soon as he turned back to look in front of him, another cat woman was upon him yet again. It screamed at him, baring its fangs as it leapt at him. This time, he did not have the time to lift up his blade to defend himself, and it landed atop him with surprising force, despite its small frame. Wolf felt himself fall backwards, grunting as his back hit the ground hard, followed by his head. Wolf's eyes widened in shock as the Croa raised its claws, and Wolf was immediately reminded of Veles' words to not be struck by their claws or fangs.

Wolf immediately began to struggle on the ground, the Croa now crouching atop him, he turned his head to find he had lost grip of his vibrosword as he fell, and his right arm stretched out to try and grab it, but it was just out of reach. Wolf looked up again at the Croa, and it cried out with a maniacal glee as it tore at Wolf with its claws. Wolf cried out as he felt its claws tear into his torso, and his emotions began to spiral out of control as he contemplated the horrible fate that would befall him if the Croa's claws pierced his skin. Wolf closed his eyes tight, yelling out in desperation.

It will not end like this. Not like this.

With a feral rage, his eyes opened again, his arms extending as pure emotion and the will to survive spilled out from him. The Croa's eyes widened as it suddenly found itself wrenched from the top of Wolf, and slammed into the ceiling of the cave. Wolf's arms were outstretched now, his mind burning at a fever pitch. Much like the first time he had used the Force, the huge amount of stress and emotion had unleashed his Force abilities once more, sending his assailant into the ceiling. Wolf took no time to lose, scrambling to his feet and grabbing his vibrosword as the Croa fell back to the ground, disoriented. Wolf growled in rage, his blade immediately coming around and slicing through the Croa, cutting it clean in two.

Wolf was overwhelmed with emotion, his heart sinking as he looked down to see his buttoned black uniform torn. He immediately tore it off, throwing it to the ground. He lifted up the tunic underneath to see that his flesh was still very much intact, and his skin unpierced. He let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Thank the bloody Force."

Wolf leaned over, his hands on his knees as he regathered his strength and his breath. He should never have let them get that close. A split second more and the creature would have torn right through into his flesh. He stood up, took in a deep breath, and brandished his vibrosword yet again to rejoin the fray.

 

[Visser Chernykh]

He followed the Sith off the lift with lightsaber held ready. A Croa opened fire from the shadows his right. He whirled and batted the first shot aside into the rock. The next he sent to the cavern roof and then to the left. Enough of this.

The fourth shot ended the shooter's life. It had scarcely fallen with a smoking hole in it's head. Now came another lunging for his throat. The freak's lips peeled back in a snarl as it came for him.

Mael snarled too as he swept his blade across. It fell as it's torso was severed from it's legs. Still it didn't want to admit defeat. It reached for him with clawed hands.

He stepped back shortened it by a head. Now the freak knows it's dead. He smiled grimly and he turned to seek his next foe. Instead he was Krieger wrestling one of the abominations atop him.

The panic rose in the tall man as it slashed at him. But Mael could feel the desperation of a being clinging to life too. Then came the rage and the beast was slammed into the ceiling. His smile widened and he moved to cover him.

He didn't offer Wolf a hand up nor did he congratulate him. He simply guarded him until he found his feet. All members of the Order would be needed were they to live. It was fortunate for Kreiger that his comrade did so.

Another of the cat-freaks sought an easy kill. It aimed it's pistol at the downed human. It squeezed the trigger and Mael batted the shot away. Then he squeezed the mutant's neck with the gesture of a pincer.

The snapping of it's neck was very audible even above the clamor with it's echo off the walls....

[member="Wolf"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

"And how does a follower of the Primeval find himself in the service of the First Order, Boo?"

Not an uncommon question.

And, yet, what did religion have to do with service to the Supreme Leader? Faith or belief in the Supreme Leader's ability to bring order to the galaxy was not tied to a social status, or economic status, or even political affiliations. Republicans and imperialists alike made strives on behalf of the First Order. So, the child didn't answer the question. He merely re-phrased it. "How does anyone?"

The Riftborne, who had seized power and political control of the Primeval, did not believe in order. They believed in chaos. So, with that ideological juxtaposition, it was easy for a Riftsinger to migrate to a force of order, however secular.

When the attack came, the boy didn't immediately jump into the fray. In part, it was because he was toward the middle of the group and an amphistaff would be difficult to wield from that position without worry of clipping another knight or splashing venom on them.

However, it did put him in a good position to mitigate the black goo.

Releasing some of the mental safeguards which held his emotions in check, a deep-seated wellspring of anger and fear sent a blast of cold radiating in all directions from him. With circular motions, the witch-boy tapped into that palpable cold which permeated his own presence. As he did, a layer of frost appeared over the top of the black goo that had splashed near [member="Enyo Typhos"], ice crystals forming as it hardened into a frozen slab.

[member="Wolf"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Mael Ren"]​

 

[Darth Veles]

A frown settled upon the Sith Lord’s expression as he advanced and suddenly heard a tell-tale clank of something heavy and metallic hitting the ground. The immediate realization crashed against walls of denial, refusing to admit the sithspawn beasts would have the numbers and strength to overwhelm the wonderful droids. Veles’ sharp turn around allowed him to catch a glimpse of one HRD dragged away into the darkness, shortly retaliated by a long and dedicated spray of fire to shower and bake the beasts in its burning glory. It did not save the droid, but at least it’s been avenged. Pained screams echoed throughout the mines as the beasts literally popped, spraying the black sludge that filled their bodies everywhere in an attempt to infect the attackers and spread the virus further.

One such dark puddle saw the Mon Cal’s approach. Ensuring nobody spied on him, the amphibian crouched and used extreme care and caution when he filled several small vials with the Croa virus. Those would come in handy later, even if the virus sealed within died. Veles pocketed the questionable loot and went after the others, embracing the darkness as the mine’s depth swallowed him whole. Bones crunched under his boots, abandoned mining equipment laid sprawled in the unstable tunnels. The lucky ones have apparently been torn apart, killed outright instead of facing the agonizing transformation.

Whenever a wild Croa approached, the monstrosity’s suffering swiftly ended through the Sith Lord’s merciful slash or jab. It was the least he could do for the poor souls violently transformed into crazed freaks.

Slightly lost in the mine’s maze of tunnels, his back covered by a single HRD while the other mechanical wonders roamed different sections of the mine, Veles paused his pace, eyes scanning the decaying surroundings. Only the red light of a lightsaber cast its illumination into darkness, not nearly enough to allow for an educated decision concerning his next advance. Left or right? Lifting his hand and pointing towards the tunnel on his blade’s side, the Sith Lord commanded the droid to pre-emptively sanitize it.

Flames suddenly washed over the walls and made it possible to see what awaited next – several silhouettes furiously dancing in the fiery inferno released upon them. In that moment, shadows and footsteps announced several twisted and raped lifeforms approaching from the left. It suddenly occured to Veles the monstrosities were herding the living into a trap, trying to separate them.

Seizing the Force, binding it into chains of hatred, the Sith's palm unleashed a brilliant flash of pure light that put a stop to the catgirl charge. Blinded and confused, they were an easy prey as Veles’ lightsaber hungrily vaporized their flesh and bone, but like annoying pests, when the Sith put one down, three more stepped out of the darkness. Quite unhappy, the Sith Lord simply pushed through, cutting a swathe through the undead hordes and spearing the way deeper. For a crippled man, he sure did know how to effectively wield his weapon of choice, with unnatural speed and accuracy that both deflected blaster bolts and cut through anything that decided to go melee against a lightsaber.


[member="Boo Chiyo"] [member="Mael Ren"] [member="Wolf"] [member="Enyo Typhos"] [member="Saki lin"]

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Darth Veles"], [member="Boo Chiyo"], [member="Wolf"], [member="Mael Ren"]


For her part, Enyo had never given the elusive Supreme Leader any thought. He was a remote, unseen figure, similar to the One Sith's now dead Dark Lord. She was sceptical he even existed. At least he had a better name than Snoke.


Regardless, it was another episode on the purge train. Its name was pain. Clearly this writer is in the mood to make incredibly lame puns today. Vile feline creatures charged the Ren. They came at them with claws, swords, blasters and revolting auras that seemed to radiate bliss and joy despite their repulsive nature. Clearly the alien mutation must have been accompanied by strong brainwashing to make these poor souls enjoy their nature.


It made Enyo feel a little nauseous. However, the anger the Croa felt as a result of the deaths of their brethren strenghtened. As one Croa launched a strike at her, she met the sword with her lightsabre and forced it down. It tried to grab her, but she pressed her advantage and thrust her lightsabre through its throat. Stepping back, she yielded space for time to hold Croa at bay with precise sweeps of her blade until she was ready to strike and hew them down.


One coming from behind she sensed and stepped aside so that it leapt into thin air before she pushed it into one of its fellow felines that had been charging from the front. Both died when she clove them from shoulder to belly. As Boo manipulated the black goo and turned it to ice, she put her sabre in one hand and unleashed a blast of lightning towards the liquified ground. Liquid and lighting did not go well together. A Croa that had already been impeded by the ice was electrocuted. Its cries were music to her ears, for it was being put out of its misery.


However, while she was distracted she was tackled by a vile feline from behind and fell to the ground. Ouch. The creature pinned her down and, succumbing to a rage, rained down blows upon her. That hurt, too. Trying to get her head close to the feline's body to mitigate the strikes, she managed to free her arms to block strikes. Her forearm launched a strike against the creature's throat, causing it to relent and move away. Grabbing ahold of one of the beast's arms, she rammed her elbow into its face. Then she roasted it with her wrist flamer. The ground around them was littered with the bodies of dead felines. Agonised cries were heard when the flamethrowers used by the HRDs consumed the creatures, purifying them with fire. Abandoned mining equipment lay sprawled out around them, along with crates and bodies. Evidently they had happened upon a mining operation that had been interrupted by the Croa. Phrik veins could be seen further ahead.

 

[Saki lin]

This was embarrassing
She probablywould be punished for being so late...but her freaking hyper drive decided that goimg out mid transit was a cool to do

Neverthelessshe got it fixed and soon arrived...though looked like she was late as she slowly landed next to the area she had been told was the landing area...but still looked like the nemy was approaching the ship

They'd not touch it

Minute she landed she was out and walked around her ship letting the black blade ignite as she saw several croa approach and start to go to surround her"you look brave enoughto die!"she said as she moved and twisted her body for the nearest cleaving it in two before she released a bolt of lightning to another...

They started to just pour in and attack

But no saki twisted weaved and cut down all who got close

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Wolf]

[member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Mael Ren"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Saki lin"]

Wolf offered a nod of thanks to Mael Ren who had covered him while he was pre-occupied with one of the Croa. Wolf's robes were still lying on the ground, torn and ruined, and he now wore just his simple tunic and trousers. The onslaught seemed to never stop, though their group was still advancing. The Croa were still upon them, and who knew how many there were in total. Surely Wolf and his group would eventually grow tired, and be overcome by the sheer number of them? Wolf was slashing his vibrosword left and right, his breath heavy, slicing through Croa as they made their way through the caves. He kept behind Darth Veles, who carved a path through the Croa, while Wolf helped to pick off the ones who remained. He grimaced as he felt something crunch under his boots, no doubt the bones of miners past.

Well at least these poor souls could pass away, and not spend eternity in torment as one of these abominations.

Wolf could not help but admire the leadership and guidance of the Mon Calamari Sith Lord, who confidently made his way through the maze. At one point he illuminated the entire place with the flames of his droids, revealing more of these creatures who were attempting to lay a trap for them. Wolf grit his teeth as he took to battle once more. He felt at home in the midst of battle, blaster bolts flying and chaos erupting, like he was back in the military, not trying to meditate in some isolated room somewhere.

Two Croa decided to co-ordinate on Wolf, and rushed him at once. One lifted a blaster while the other raised its razor sharp claws. Wolf grimaced, his vibrosword slicing across the Croa's abdomen. The creature screeched, but it was only a shallow cut, and Wolf grabbed the Croa and held it in front of him. The other Croa screamed as it fired off its blaster, suddenly realising its mistake as the blaster bolt was sent straight into the other Croa's back, killing it. Wolf threw the body to the ground, raising his vibrosword while the other was in shock to quickly dispatch it too. There was no need for prolonged pain for these poor wretched souls, they deserved a quick death to relieve them of their tormented existence.

Wolf continued to battle his way through the Croa along with the rest of the group, his body falling into rhythm as he anticipated one Croa leaping at him, and then another, cutting them down all the same. Back in the One Sith there were many who would relish the opportunity to kill and destroy, getting some kind of high out of death. Wolf could not deny he enjoyed the thrill and rush of combat, but he found no pleasure in actually taking a person's life. He was emotionally detached as he dispatched his foes, his mind always focussing on the greater purpose and cause that he strove for. At least in the case of these Croa, Wolf could take some consolation knowing he was putting these wretched souls out of their misery, rather than some enemy soldier on the battlefield who was just like him with their own hopes, dreams and loved ones. He pressed on through the Croa, hoping that they were nearing the phrik they were looking for. He called out to [member="Darth Veles"] over the sound of blaster bolts and the clamour of battle.

"How much longer must we fight through these foul creatures? Are we nearing the ore?"