Dead Space (Ask to Join)

[Laira Darkhold]

Hyperlanes were adrift. The Forge Ship, Forge of the Rock, spewed a gout of poisonous gas into space. The Forge of the Rock resembled a massive freighter, made specifically for Mandalorians in need of forging Beskar and transporting it between worlds. This particular ship was owned and operated by Clan Vereen making a shipment of Beskar to Clan Rekali on Yavin. The ship was also holding a decent number of civilians, making the trip out to the Jedi Academy on Yavin, sponsored by Clan Rekali as always.

In addition Clan Vereen was partaking in a training mission on the Moon of the gas giant, and thus almost a hundred fully armed, fully armored Mandalorian warriors new to the clan were accompanying their Lord, Drahr'Buir Draco Vereen.

Vulkan sat in the command chair, slouched over the console as he flicked through the HoloNet on his HUD lazily, almost bored. The only reason he was even here was because Abigail was still off galavanting through the galaxy, and Seela was on a ship on its way to Bothawui, where it was safe. He didn't trust other men around her. He trusted her with all his heart, but other males, no. No, they did not deserve his trust. That was why she was being protected by his only ally he trusted with her, Draz, a vicious female Barabel that was beyond loyal to Vulkan, and with orders to castrate any man that got too friendly with Seela. He really wanted to be back with her, but his duties called him away.

The comm on the console blinked with light, showing that he was receiving a ship to ship message, and the Sith Lord clicked it on. "Defectors... ship.... assas... ereen..." His eye's perked up, and his aura of Fear became present almost immediately. The Sith Lord was unafraid, but the feeling of dread and fear leaked out of him and into the others around him. He was alone, no one he knew or trusted. "Defectors you say? And here I was just out travelling with a batch of new recruits." His eyes behind the visor began flicking rapidly through the HUD before him, going through commands to the complex armor the Sith Lord wore. He wasn't exactly caught with his pants down, but he wasn't highly prepared for this situation.

He could feel their thoughts, these warriors with him on the bridge, armed and armored like he was. He could feel their thoughts, and they were fearful, nervous. Their thoughts were treacherous and dark. The comm channel flickered, "Dea... atch..." And the Sith Lord flickered out of sight, his armor concealing him as he surged from the chair.

"FOR DEATH WATCH!" The warriors cried, opening fire with heavy slugthrowers, tearing through the chair and across the bridge as Vulkan bolted for the wall, were he could try and skirt around them.

The warriors weren't exactly fooled, able to see the outline of the Sith Lord, tracing behind him with slugthrower fire as he ran. EMP grenades detonated around the bridge causing the room to go dark, the lights dead. The darkness light up with muzzle flashes from slugthrowers in random directions. Vulkan, crouched against a wall, his arm bleeding from a slug hitting him just under the pauldron. <Curses. Already wounded.> The surprise ambush almost worked. Had it not been for the Rekali information he would be dead already. His eye's searched for an escape, any escape. He could hear foot steps coming from the hallway he would have left from. Probably reinforcements.

Ventilation shaft. That was the answer. The lights were beginning to flicker, but power to the ship was unstable now, the internal running lights dead, emergency lights flickering from the EMP blasts all across the bridge. He leaped up, grabbing the vent opening with his hands, wincing as he hauled his weight up on a wounded arm. By the time he got into the vent, there were almost a dozen mandalorians on the bridge, firing into every shadow.

Vulkan crept down the vent shaft, checking what he had. A dead helmet he took off and left where it was, one of his axes, and a dinu'ul. Not the best plan. His active camouflage was dead now, and he had a couple shots with his wrist weapons, currently an A-1 Slug with forty five rounds, two wrist beamers, and a wrist charric, all at half capacity from the battery drain. He breathed out and started moving through the vent. He had to get the power cut to the ship if he was going to have any chance of getting out alive.

The passenger bay was not much different. A dozen Mandalorian warriors had been sitting one moment, the next there was a small commotion with the lights, and then, there was fire as the Death Watch executed an older Rekali veteran before anything could happen. The lights were flickering, the Death Watch were screaming orders, and people were crying.

All in the depths, the Forges never slept.

[member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

Chevu lay flattened on the floor of the passenger bay, her green-skinned fingers folded tensely over her head. She could feel the spittle spray her face, as a member of the Death Watch shrieked in her face to “GET DOWN.” The Mirialan wanted to mention that she was already down, but figured it really wouldn’t help matters in the slightest, and it would probably just get someone else killed. Execution-style was how this group apparently liked to do things.

Chevu had no idea who these terrorists were, but they were armored like Mandalorians. Who were these people? She panned her gaze to the left and right of her, making sure that the civvies, her charges, were all still alive. A silent count later, and the Jedi Marshal confirmed that all of her very panicked and distraught civilians were still there. She couldn’t say the same for the Rekali vet, may he rest in peace.

Chevu was asked specifically by the Jedi Academy’s administration to help escort the civilians to Yavin. The Jedi Marshal was there as a safeguard against exactly what was happening to Forge of the Rock. The Mirialan wasn’t going to make any sudden moves. Not with all of these slugthrowers around. For now, she simply called the Force to her, and lifted her head a few inches so that she could raise her onyx eyes at the ringleader.

“What do you want with us?”

[member="Darth Vulkan"]

Spoiler

Gear: Chevu's Armor, The Forlorn Hope (confiscated), The Nub Amulet, BTI-WB "Woebringer" Heavy Blaster Pistol (confiscated)

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan moved silently through the vents finding an intersection that provided him with numerous means of escape should they begin looking for the Sith Lord up in the vents and sat his back against the wall, sighing. He needed medical aid to clean out the wound in his arm, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon. The most he could do was stab some bacta into the wound and wrap it in a bandage. A sloppily wrapped bandage, but something to stop the bleeding nonetheless. If he had been able to tap into the Light Side, he could have healed himself fairly quickly, but he hadn't been able to do that in a long time. Seemed like four years. With the bandage wrapped, Vulkan began moving again, with a slight groan as he put weight on the arm. Where to first? He needed to kill the primary reactor and jettison it, as well as cut the communication lines. Then it was a matter of time until his forces and Clan Rekali's came looking for them.

In the passenger compartment the dozen Death Watch Commandos continued waving their slugthrowers in the faces of the civilians.

"What do you want with us?"

"Nothing. You are all just bodies in the way." One of the Death Watch responded.

Another walked up and began speaking softly, "They are scouring the holds for the Alit'buir. He managed to escape the bridge when we tried to get him."

The first scowled, "One man, that's all you had to do was shoot one man in the back. Take five men and go check the forges. He's probably trying to make his way to a shuttle craft."

The second chuckled. "Best of luck with that one, all the hyperdrives are rigged to detonate on activation." And then six of them left the passenger compartment, heading for the back of the ship. The running lights were flickering in and out now, but power hadn't been full restored.

Vulkan stopped, wincing as he dropped down a level and braced himself with his wounded arm. All he could see through the little grate was six Death Watch standing over a number of civilians. Six? Could he take six wounded and lightly armed before they could cut him in half or open up into the civilians? Probably not, and civilians dying on his ship, Death Watch already having infiltrated his ship, wouldn't look good. It would be a shaming from the Alor Council at best. He gripped his axe a little tighter and planned his next move. He was above them, he could definitely get two before any of them had time to react, and maybe two more with Ion beamers to the back of the head. Maybe.

Worth the risk. Hit the two closest, then the two farthest, and hope he had enough of a jump on them to kill them all. The grate was moved quietly, and the big Mandalorian dropped through, hacking his axe into the closest warrior with his healthy arm, Dinu'ul shimmering to life over the wounded arm. Maybe that will save him from some sort of slugs to the chest.

[member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

Chevu shut her eyes tightly, wincing as one of their ring leaders spoke to her. The Mirialan hoped she was a decent actress because right now, her life and the life of the civvies depended on it. Chevu wasn't as afraid of them as she appeared to be.

Play the role of meek little Jedi escort and they'll underestimate you. Then you can get a jump on them.

Just as she'd suspected, the hijackers had no qualms about speaking freely in front of a person who posed no immediate threat. They'd mentioned something about an Alit'buir. Unfortunately, Chevu's Mandalorian was rusty so she wasn't familiar with the word. It sounded like a fancy title for a commander.

There was a squeak as the grate became unhinged and a figure dropped down. Passengers screamed as a man jumped down out of the grate and went on a pure rampage, hacking into the nearest hijacker with what appeared to be a beskar axe. She didn't know who he was, but he seemed to be on the side of Clan Rekali. Chevu quickly scrambled to her feet. Her lightsaber, the Forlorn Hope and Woebringer pistol had been confiscated by one of the thugs. She only had the powers of the light, powers she called into her body as chaos rocked the passenger bay.

Reaching out with the Force, Chevu attacked the nearest hijacker with a Force bomb, a ball of kinetic energy aimed right at the man's heart. The bomb exploded inside of his body, ripping apart his flesh inside of his armor. Blood splattered against the inside of the visor of his helmet as he fell forward with a thunk.

Ok, who's next?

Spoiler

Gear: Chevu's Armor, The Forlorn Hope (confiscated), The Nub Amulet, BTI-WB "Woebringer" Heavy Blaster Pistol (confiscated)

[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan winced pretty heavily as he hit the ground, his good arm driving the ostrine axe deep into the man's collar bone and freezing his jugular vein inside his neck. It was a gauranteed death, having your blood freeze inside your body, and the victim dropped like a sack of potatoes. The warriors, buzzed around and cried "FOR DEATH WATCH!" as they turned on the lone Mandalorian Sith, pointing heavy slugthrowers in his direction. A second vision of him blurred into existence and ran left while the first ran right, drawing some fire away from him as a second mandalorian defector detonated in a gory explosion, from a Lightside power.

He could feel the Jedi in the room. The old Clan Rekali veteran that was acting as the sanctioned guard was already lying dead, which was no surprise. These assassins liked back stabbing, much like Jedi did from his experience with them. The second warrior fired, and Vulkan slid to a crouch near him, taking a round in the shoulder as his axe smashed into the side of the warrior's knee cap, freezing several tendons inside the man's skin, crippling him, possibly for life. Not that it would be that long. As Vulkan rose to his feet, he pulled an uppercut towards the warrior's chin, snapping off a slug round just before impact, sending a slug round to dance around inside the helmet like a ball in a paint can. The warrior's head snapped backwards and he fell to the ground in a slump.

Warrior number four took an Ion beamer to the helmet, staggering him and causing him to slip to his butt, very much alive, just very much dazed, unable to act or even aware of his surroundings. The green Jedi girl he recognized now though, her unmistakable backside something akin to a legend. Of course facial recognition needed to be installed on these Force Ships before they let people who had tried to kill the Aliit'buir on board without a second glance. Granted that had been on Chazwa, and things had changed since them. He would have time to explain later what was going on, and what he was doing. "Behind you!" His voice possibly familiar to the Jedi woman as he turned his attention to the remaining warriors, filling their minds with static and blurring their vision. It was all he could do, but it would slow them down some.

Forges deep within the bowels of the ship, rang with the fall of hammers, both modern power hammers striking the metal with the force of a hundred men, and the older hammers, wielded expertly by a mastersmith.

[member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

So these were Death Watch. The name rung a bell, although only faintly. They were a Mandalorian splinter group, probably a radical one, but what they wanted from this ship? Force only knew. This seemed like a random act of terrorism for now. Chevu was relieved that she didn’t bring along Two Bit. Her feisty little astromech would be fully traumatized by the vicious displays of violence, especially hers.

The Alit’buir, or so she presumed, began to take on the terrorists, using both ion weaponry and pure brute strength, one by one, they fell like dominos or stood, stunned and silent. Chevu whipped her head around to make sure the students hadn’t become victims of any friendly fire.

“In the corner!” she ordered in a shaky voice. She needed them all in one place, in case she needed to throw up a Force bubble.

“Behind you!” came the voice of the Alit’buir. She whirled on her heel to meet two more attackers. They seemed, disabled somehow, their aim as wonky as a one legged astromech. The Mirialan launched a powerful Force repulse that sent them flying backwards against the wall, so hard they dented the hull. Chevu plucked a slugthrower pistol from one of the dead terrorists and fired off four shots where they lay, groaning and twitching.

That voice was so familiar. Where had she heard it before?

[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan stooped and picked up a heavy slugthrower, one that had been pointed at him a second ago and checked the magazine quickly. Thirty Two rounds left. Not good, not great, but he was going to be firing from the hip with the wounded arm. He might be able to line some proper shots up with some planning and set up, but not on the fly. He winced as he hefted the weapon up, his face scrunching a bit as he he pulled the strap over his shoulder. He looked over the passengers and nodded, "Stay here, don't piss them off. They don't mind killing you, but if you aren't in the way, hopefully they won't."

Not his best plan but, he had one. Cut the power and wait them out. There was no way one hundred death watchers had a pick up waiting for them. They were supposed to hijack the ship and bolt, Vulkan was certain of it. Cutting the power would keep them from jumping out and going to their hidden base, and would keep them on the hyperlane. The well trafficked hyperlane that Clan Vereen and Clan Rekali would be searching when they didn't check in on time. Hopefully, Clan Rekali with their astrogators could find them quickly, but, they had two days before they missed check in.

Footsteps could be heard coming back up one of the halls. Vulkan turned around and regarded the young Mirialan. "Hey, darlin, if you plan on fighting we gotta move. We can't win a long term fire fight, and we can't sit here. If you want to help these people we have one shot at this and I'll explain when we have a minute." The big beskar armored man found his way up under the vent he had dropped out of. "Best chance is this way if you wanna fight, and I'll need your help hauling myself back up into the vents."

[member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

Chevu was reluctant to leave her charges, but did she really have a choice? Leave and they’d have a chance to take more of the Death Watch out. Stay? They’d be outnumbered and killed.

“Ok,” she told him, bobbing her head in an affirmative gesture. This man, the Alit’buir, seemed to know the enemy well, and besides, he hadn’t shot at her yet, so he seemed like her best bet in the trust department. Beggars can’t be choosers.

“I’m coming back for you,” she insisted, panning her gaze to a forest of frightened face.

The Mirialan Knight called the Force into her body and with arms outstretched, used it to wrap around the man and hoist him upwards. She grunted with the effort. He was heavy; it took all of her concentration, but soon he was high enough that he could crawl into it it without her help.

"What's your name?" she called up to him.

Wait, was he checking out her butt?

[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

He was checking out her butt. He wasn't exactly distracted by it, but he was paying attention to it. It wasn't as nice as Seela's rear, but it was nice. "Come on Chevu, we don't have time to hug every passenger." He called, holding his uninjured arm down for her.

Footsteps grew louder and Death Watch warriors could be heard shouting, probably seeing the evidence of their compatriots deaths or assuming as much given the quiet in the room and the lack orders or responses being shouted back at them. Vulkan reached down, grabbed her arms and hauled her into the ventilation system. As soon as she was in, the vents large enough to crouch in Vulkan pointed behind her, "That way, go go go go go." Just as soon as he cleared the vent following her a few slugs sprayed up into it behind them.

Her leading the way was two fold. First, the view was incredible. Second, she was probably about to try and stab him or shoot him. "They call me Draco." He was getting ready, even though he really didn't want to fight her. It was already a bad situation and doing it wounded and alone wasn't on his to do list.

"I'm sorry by the way. I just want to make sure you know that." His voice was apologetic, at least to a degree, even if still stressed and pressing her forward. He was holding the wrist with the Ion Beamer ready to pop her in the back if she turned on him once she realized who he was.

[member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

Chevu crawled through the ventilation tunnel, ahead of the Mandalorian. She didn’t like this arrangement. It meant she couldn’t see what he was doing behind her. Plus she didn’t know the way. The Force around her was brimming. One wrong move and she’d be able to sense it.

“Tell me where to go,” she whispered frantically.

His name almost stopped her dead in her tracks.

Draco.

It was the name that Darth Rapax revealed on Chazwa, the name of the Dark Jedi who tried to trick her into trusting him. Her green hands trembled as she planted them one after the other. Out of all the people in the galaxy that she had to get trapped on a hijacked Forge ship with, it had to be him. The sound of her breaths came faster.

“Sorry for what?”

[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

He breathed in a deep breath, arm ready to try and incapacitate the green woman if she became violent. He didn't want to hurt her, for a couple of reasons, not the least of which was moving in front of him. But the most pressing was because he desperately needed help if he was going to survive. "Sorry for Hypori. I said some things to you there that I shouldn't have. I wasn't right in the head then. I'm not really right now, but I don't want to hurt you." The Sith Lord hadn't been a father at the time, he hadn't had a child, and he didn't know how crushing and painful threatening someone else's children would be. It had the desired effect at the time, fear and worry. She probably left and called to check on her children at the time. It had been a while, but he still remembered it.

It was one of the things that had haunted Draco for some time after the encounter between the two. Vulkan wasn't remorseful about the events personally, but the little conscience within him that was the remnant of Draco's psyche left him with a small feeling of regret about it. Vulkan was very protective of his own young daughter, and he could only imagine the feelings of another. He knew he would turn worlds to ash to hunt the one who threatened his child, and so the hypocritical situation weighed on him some.

"Turn left up here and we can make our way to the main reactor. We need to eject it from the ship so it powers down, then we need to cut the comms so they can't call for help. The systems are still rebooting, so we have a few minutes." That was the reaction of almost a dozen EMP grenades going off on the bridge. The Death Watch were no doubt working to reboot the systems, and so they needed to make it hard on them before they could hide out and hope for the best.

[member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

Chevu was thin enough to whip her body around in the shaft with room to spare. She faced him squarely, her onyx eyes black lakes as she growled in anger.

"You said some things?!" she asked incredulously, her hand hovering over her slug thrower.

"You almost killed my partner and me!"

For weeks, the Mirialan had nightmares about the eerie laughter of children and the smoke demon that nearly consumed she and Coren on Hypori. Not to mention, she'd almost killed herself rappelling down the side of the InnoteQ skyscraper on a grappling hook. She planted her hand back on the grate. Shooting at him now would be rash, and by the looks of his armor, would probably end badly for her.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. There was a question nagging at her. Chevu had nothing to lose by asking it.

"Why didn't you kill me back there?"

[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan kind of jerked his head backwards, as though she had said something absolutely absurd. His own eyes were rimmed with the red ring of tale-tell Dark Side corruption and he regarded her for a moment. "That wasn't my job. My job was just to protect the Union's assets. Besides, you were the ones stealing things from InnoteQ." Vulkan remembered those days, back when Draco was at his lowest before the plunge. It had been a while now, and during some of that time Draco had actually been seeking help, wanting to be better for Abigail. That ship had sailed.

"You weren't a serious threat, I didn't need to use lethal force to neutralize you. And a good thing too, or I'd be alone in here and I'd probably die trying to survive days evading death watch on a ship." Vulkan's voice eased a bit, there were other benefits to having the mirialan alive. She was always easy on the eyes, and he could have worse company. "Plus there was that time I went to you for help so I wouldn't become fall and become a Sith and you shot me instead." He smiled, it wasn't entirely her fault Draco broke and split, but Vulkan wanted to make her feel more responsible than she was, if only to make her doubt herself. "Which I guess I should thank you for. I haven't had any sleepless nights since."

A small grenade bounced up from behind them and instinctively Vulkan activated the Dinu'ul energy shield on his wrist to fill as much of the vent as possible. "Scoot woman, go. Take the third left and head for the comm stations." The little flash bang wasn't as bad as it could have been, but no doubt there would be more and worse to follow. They just had to hope they could cut the comms and eject the reactor before Death Watch could reboot the system.

[member="Chevu Visz"]