Public Distress Call

[Remus Avar]

The Boatman, an Ouibliette Class ship was was making its way through the stars when a distress signal began to chime on the main screen. Deep in his chambers, Remus sat cross legged floating, when he heard the ping and began to extend his crossed knees, and stand. Coming to the bridge he saw the red blinking light that strobed with urgency as he pressed the panel and message that broke in static, howls, and then a voice of a feminine quality,
“Please.. we are adrift.. this ship.. it is.. we need help! I beg you! I do not want to die.”

END OF TRANSMISSION

Remus took a seat in his black robes in singular obisdian throne. He checking the Star Maps to see that the coordinates that were sent were on the edge of the Outer Rim.

Holding his black gloved hand to his faceplate chin, tapping it with the spiked tips of his fingers in the dark leather. He sensed something forboding in the voice of the transmission, a trap perhaps, and yet his penitential oath demanded that he make amends for past sins. Tapping the screen, he set a course for the coordinates and made the jump to Lightspeed.

The Boatman leapt elogated into a white cloud of light and as stars danced around the vessel, the Jedi Aspirant began to grab some items from his rack in back of the ship, grenades, smoke bombs, med kits, some Kolto shots, and prob droid of orb shape.

Coming out of Hyperspace, the Boatman jolted and there before it was a Great Ship, it appeared to be a Star Destroyer from the First Order era. Scans of it for life signs came out with nothing, and Remus began to consider if he should consider that confirmation that the message was too late, and that woman was dead. He stood there a moment, seeking Ashla for guidence, his training from Shaman was enough to give him skills that Jedi Padawan might have, but he had to be wary of tapping into his old powers, the Darkness that did lend aid in a pinch but a great cost.

This detour could have great consequences, as what was about the Derelict Star Destroyer could harm him, or worse waylay him for unseen amounts of time. And yet he had made a vow, to help the helpless, and follow the teachings of the Jedi. A distress call had to be answered. Docking with the Star Destroyer, the hatch, opening and the orb shaped prob droid began to hover and go inside, scanning and sending information to his wrist data pad. The life support systems were in tact, through it would good he had his mask on with oxygen being fed into him, just in case there was pathogen in the air. Debris was about in hallways, crates stacked as if to fortify and make a stand. There was some blaster scarring on walls in black strips. Remus stayed aboard his ship, having re-sealed the hatch for now, and letting the prob droid be his eyes, searching this deck to determine safety. So far so good, through it was ominous, signs of life, that there was great crew on board, and yet no bodies, nothing…

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Remus Avar

---

The Abandoned Death Star

The gargantuan ship groaned like a beast that hadn't yet realized it was dead. Every few steps, a spark fell from the ceiling and fizzled out on the now blood-slick floor, joining the slow drip of coolant and the hiss of ruptured pipes. The air smelled like ozone and crispy mostly human flesh, heavy enough to cling to the tongues of those who breathed it.

Through it all, a whistle threaded the silence.

The notes floated steady and deliberate, each one measured like a heartbeat. They echoed through the corridor long before their source came into view, playful and almost innocent, yet too precise to be innocent.

Then she appeared.

Scherezade deWinter moved through the smoke with easygrace. Her armor was scratched and scorched, the edges of her cape torn where fire had licked at it, and the blood drying on her skin painted her in the colors of aftermath. One of her swords hung loosely from her hand, its blade dragging against the steel wall with making a sound that sounded much like metal down a blackboard.

She could feel them. The faint ripples of panic and breath somewhere deeper in the structure. Survivors. Hiding. Hoping the station's death throes would be enough to keep her from finding them.

The thought made her smile, slow and sharp.

"Ding dong, the food's still alive," she murmured, almost to herself. "How cute."

The tip of her blade flicked, leaving a fresh scar along the wall as she passed. She walked as if she owned the ruin, as if it were nothing more than a stage set for her little hunt. Which, essentially, it was. At least for today.

A body slumped in the corner caught her eye, unrecognizable beneath its melted armour. She crouched beside it, studying the shape. Her reflection winked back at her from a glossy puddle of blood, distorted by the ripples her breath stirred. She dipped two fingers in, drew a loose circle on the floor, then wiped her hand absently against her thigh as she rose.

Whistle. Step. Drag. Spark.

The rhythm carried her forward again. The blood tried to speak to her. Tried to force its words and its memories into her consciousness. But she refused. The blood hound held no desire for the secrets contained in the crimson that day. She had a mission to complete.

Scherezade didn't hurry. She didn't need to. The station's dying heartbeat was her metronome, and the scent of fear would guide her better than any map.

When she spoke again, her voice was calm and somehow toying at the same time.

"Come out now," she called into the dark, her tone almost warm. "You'll make me work for it otherwise. And I promise…" Her lips curved faintly, not quite a smile. "…you won't like how I work."

The lights flickered once more, and her shadow moved before she did, long and crooked across the wall, sword-edge gleaming like the promise of a slow ending.

"Here kittie kittie kittie…" she whispered, and then took a breath before resuming her whistling. Today was going to be a darn good day.

 

[Remus Avar]

Scherezade deWinter

The Prob droid clearing the deck leading to the Bridge, it scanning the consoles, and there was beeping and blue light flickering. Remus examining through the lens of his floating eye, it probably was the source of the distress beacon, and may contain more information. He pressing his wrist data pad, called the Prob droid to sweep a lower deck while he would see to the Bridge. He came to the hatch, his long black cape blowing as flag as the door opening, releasing some pressure valve. Stepping through he was no aboard this silent ship, the halls and corridors were a magnificent obsidian metal, and were it not for scarring and sparks of terminals that had shorted, it must have been a grand vessel once.

Remus made his way to the bridge, the obstacles of crates he moved with the point of his hand, calmly, and not throwing, for he knew not what they contained, simply making room so that he could press on. He came to the Bridge and there he saw more carved metal, and debris, the view screan had major gashes in it as if a great claw of Rancor had been loosed. Making haste, he came to console and pressing the button a holo image of woman appearing,
“I am Lina Makkos, part of salvage team that boarded this dead vessel. My team found no life signs at first.. curiosity was peaked when we came about a lab in the lower levels.. and then something began to pick us off.. one by one, something hunting us. I have sent a distress call because our ship was detached and combusted, some of our team think it was sabatoge, and yet we have not found saboteur. If you are watching this recording, I beg you.. life support systems are nominal, making breathing laborious.. and tiring many. I suspect the disappearences may be connected to our life support systems going haywire, and that the mess hall which had food is now empty. Please, I do not know how long we can survive.”

END OF TRANSMISSION

Remus held his leather pointed fingers to his mouth piece, tapping. It was evident something had happened, and the the information on a lab in lower levels was a concern. The First Order was said to have been involved in experiments. The Horrors of Exegol were known to many in Outer Rim. It was at this moment that Remus had to decide, investigate further with the risks being more apparent now, or abandon the vessel, and contact the Alliance, and have them send teams to sweep this relic of the past. Remus knew the ladder was the wiser course of action, and so he made his way back down the hall, towards his ship, when his datapad on his risk began to beep, and he saw Prob Droid saying, “Lifeform Detected! Lifeform Detected!”

The Jedi Aspirant had heard the plea from Ms. Makkos. If he left now, then the chances are that survivors would be dead before an Alliance Rescue Team could get there. Resolved, Remus made his way to lift, and programmed the Prob Droid to follow the life form, it was was on Deck Level 4, and so now he would go into belly of this desolation, and discover what was truly going on. He took his bronze colored saber hilt with the two horns at the emitter and detached it from his belt, as the doors opened, he flipping a switch immolated the brighrt peridot green blade. That level was dark, with only flickering lights here and there.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

The darkness answered Remus Avar .

At first, it was just the creak of metal settling, the occasional pop of a dying light fixture. Then came the sound, soft, distant, deliberate. Whistling.

A slow, eerie tune wound its way through the corridors, every note sharp enough to make the shadows tense. It echoed from nowhere and everywhere at once, weaving through the fractured ribs of the Death Star until it felt like the ship itself was mocking him.

And then the whistling suddenly stopped.

A moment later came a different sound, the scrape of metal against metal. Rhythmic. Measured. A blade dragging along the wall.

Scherezade deWinter stepped into Remus' view like a ghost called up from the Empire's nightmares. Blood marred her armor and hands, dried black in the dim light, and her eyes shone green and full of quiet focus. If anyone expected to find madness or frenzy there, they would be left empty, for none of it was in it. Just intent. Controlled, precise, and cold.

Her blade's edge trailed a fresh line of sparks across the bulkhead as she walked. She stopped only when the hum of the man's lightsaber filled the space between them, the green glow painting her features in cruel relief.

"I've got a few of those too," she said softly, her voice almost child-like, pointing at his saber, her voice carrying the faintest trace of amusement. "You must be one of the rescuers."

She tilted her head, studying him as if she were appraising a specimen. The smell of ozone and blood mingled thickly in the air between them. Her fingers flexed around the hilt of her blade, but she didn't raise it. Not yet. Her eyes, however, never left his.

The Death Star groaned again, deep and distant, like something remembering its own death.

"Do you know?" she asked him, "where they hid it? I told them I'd just have it and leave, but they were being buttholes about the whole thing."

It seemed like only now she realized she was covered in the blood and gore of a massacre scene. She giggled.

"Oh, they shot first," she said. If the other man could detect lies, he would find none in her words. Scherezade had a strange code that she lived by. Perhaps some day, she would write it down so people could follow easier. But one of the easiest things to understand within it, was that she rarely the first to strike. Especially when her hunt didn't include any corpses.

But at the same time, she didn't have any qualms about making them.

 

[Hubert Starhopper]

Objective



Tags: @Sherezade deWinter Remus Avar

Gear: Custom Blaster Pistol, Tool-Kit



-----------



As the two came face to face in the corridors, the tension rises like water in a boiling pot, awaiting to overflow the surrounding area, two forces of nature stopped abruptly before one another...

This goes unknown to Hubert, as he is running for his life. Each strike of his boots clomping and squeaking across the littered floors of the ship echo out not a half-second after one another. His mind is focused on nothing but survival, outlasting that, that... Thing... The creature that Hubert swore was from the very depths of hell itself.

The only thing as loud as his feet, is his breathing. High-pitched, panicked in a state of hyperventilation. As he turns a corner, he runs directly into a silhouette of a person. Hubert falls back, slamming into the floor with a harsh clanging of debris. Through a groan of pain, he looks up, witnessing a man clad in black robes, dawning a matching faceplate and carrying a lightsaber. Then he notices another lightsaber attatched to the person next to this stranger. Given his appearance, and his knowledge of force users, (which isn't much,) He begins to scatter backwards, crawling away, but not too far as another foe is back the way he came.

"Whoa, whoa- hey!"

His words are pushed through heavy breaths, his wind still struggling to catch up with him. His focus is now on the ignited saber that the strange woman is holding.

"I didn't mean to bump into ya' please don't hurt me!"

He begins to scramble to his feet, hunched over in a state of fight or flight, his hand hovering over the handle to his blaster, sitting in a holster on his chest. His skin is covered in black engine grease, melted into new streaked patterns from his sweat.

"I just wanna' get outta' here..."

He pinches the bridge of his nose, battling his better judgement that tells him to draw, just to be safe. Although, if the stories he's heard about Force-inclined folk are anywhere near true, he'll be dead before he even squeezes the trigger. Whole squads decimated by a single blade of energy, and a special connection to the universe around them.

"...And bein' honest. I don't got a clue where I'm at. I been runnin' for an hour now- gotta' be."


His accent is thick and twangy. A drawl shared by many a backwater farmer. His hunched stature straightens slightly, though his hand still remains hovering over his pistol.

 

[Remus Avar]

TAGS: Scherezade deWinter Hubert Starhopper

The cadence of Remus’ respirator, the pitch as it rose almost as a snore and then fell as if in metal pan was interrupted when he came face to the face with the First Suspect of what might be behind the distress call. The Woman in Blood, her very body painted with what many would say is the drops of the crime, and yet in her eyes of burning green that almost matched his ower kyber, he detected something else. The sight of her painted body began to trigger a memory, flashes of faces shrieking as red veins drained their life force as blood into Him, he felt himself take a step back, this haunting was beginning to cause a stasis, and he could not fail now, he took another deep breath, and then a Survivor emerged at that moment, and he had to decide whom to address first, the Woman in Blood, or the recoiling survivor he had come to rescue.
His training told him to speak with the mighty first, for her tapping of the blades on the wall and her coagulated cover up told him that she must be given a response first.

“The Distress Call bid me come.. and I answered.”

Looking at the Confused Man,
“Calm your fear.. if you can. I will not do you harm.”
He turning his Visor to Her,
“Though I will defend the Helpless.. tell me, what do you seek Woman who claims she acted in Self Defense and wears the stains of those silenced?”

It was key to learn, if the Force had taught him anything, jumping to conclusions was unwise, though she fit the description of what the holorecording on the Bridge alluded to, Remus could not bY right of absence allow circumstancial evidence to cloud him. Her Blood Covered person would seem to be the red of guilt, and yet he had met Mandos who had breastplates bathed in blood, and they were innocent, they had Ijaat or Honor. The Man retreating from them and beseeching was telling, Jedi burn blue and green kyber, as a sign that they serve Ashla and the cause of the Alliance. It is the Sith who’s blade as burning fire of deep red, and that would warrant a reaction that he gave.

The Jedi Aspirant turning his visor between them both said,
“I believe introductions are in order. I am Remus Avar. What are your names?”

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Hubert Starhopper & Remus Avar

---

The smile on Scherezade's face looked almost child-like in the dim lights of the abandoned station. It was a sharp contrast to her armor-clad body covered in blood and gore, almost entirely in opposition to her hair and face that were soaked in it either. But if being dirty in such a way bothered her, none of it showed in her expressions. This was, after all, a Sithling playing in the sandbox, just as life had intended.

She saw the man ( Remus Avar ) about to speak when their maybe a standoff and maybe not came to a halt by the joining of… Another person, who appeared to be very stressed out. Scherezade didn't have to move towards him before she inhaled loudly, checking to make sure who it wasn't. And indeed, it wasn't. It was another human male, almost as tall at her, but very much not in a happy situation. Not about being here, anyway.

His fear was all too tangible, and Scherezade felt as though she could eat come of it if she just took a bite out of the air. For herself, it didn't matter. For him? Definitely not a good situation to be in, especially considering their scenic background.

Lightsaber-man spoke before her first, saying he'd heeded a distress call and the turning to the newcomer to try to calm him. And… Right, defend the helpless. She hadn't done a single thing to either of those two dudes and already came the not-so-veiled threats.

Scherezade rolled her eyes.

"Scherezade deWinter," she gave her name with a casual shrug. If either was old enough or versed enough in the galaxy's history, they might recognize her name from her Agent of Chaos days, when she'd been dubbed a terrorist. But she really hoped they wouldn't, it was too much of a headache to deal with right now, especially when it all boiled down to different points of view.

Her right hand, the one that was free of any blades, dug into her belt and produced a small paper bag. How the bag hadn't rustled and made noise while they'd all been there was beyond what anyone knew. Still, she opened it up, and offered it to the newcomer ( Remus Avar ). If he'd take a look, he would find it full of cheese cubes.

Food was always good when one was majorly stressed out.

"I was summoned here," she explained her presence, her tone still calm, her voice almost a sing-song, "for a meeting. It felt weird, but y'know, almost everything does this days, so how was I supposed to know it would turn into a trap?"

She shook her head and gave a low chuckle, "I have very little appreciation for being invited to places under false pretenses. Childhood traumas and all of that. I told them I'd take the package that I'd come for, and be on my way. They answered with slugthrowers. But I know the package is still here somewhere. I can feel it whispering to me."

With a sigh, she rose again. If the newcomer had taken any of the cheese cubes, she'd have left the bag with him. He could finish it if he wanted to, she had more of them.

 

[Hubert Starhopper]

Objective: Assess The Situation



Tags: Remus Avar Scherezade deWinter

Gear: Tool-Kit, Custom Blaster Pistol



-----------



As soon as the man clad in black spoke his first words, a state of calming begins to grow within Hubert, though granted, not by much. Gentle-spoken, and quite literally offering to stand at his aide if necessary, the stranger has an essence about him that, after a brief error in judgement, is seemingly calming. The woman on the other side of him, though... He still remains unsure of. His back straightens, and his head lifts, though his hand still remains sharp and at the ready.

"Hubert... Star-Hopper."

His breathing lightens, yet the pace of each breath remains the same speed, a tell-tale sign of his sky-high anxiety.


"Sorry, fella'... I'm usually a bit more collected. Theres a karkin' monster on this ship. It- it ate my crew- no- shredded my crew..."

His eyes draw blank, and his words fail him, leaving him in a state of mouth-gaping shock. His hand slowly lowers from his blaster hilt, hanging symmetrical with the other.

"I... I had him. I had him by the arm and... and in a second...


That was all that was left..."

Tears begins to fall down his face like the first flow of a creek bed, sorrow beginning to replace the adrenaline coarsing through his veins. He had come with a crew of six, now it was just him. And has only been him, sprinting and stumbling his way through the darkness in a last sliver of hope for survival.

"My best friend... My brother... It-"

He drops to his knees, a shuddering breath forced from him from the impact. He slouches over, a few sobs stifled and tossed aside, unwanted and unwelcomed. For the time being...

"I did... EVERYTHING... I could... I tried to save them, but that kriffin' monster... we threw everythin' at 'im. First to go was our pilot. Then, the techie. Our gunmen were torn in half... like your blade through a pad of butter... And then..."

He stops, choking back the last of his words. He just didn't want to believe them- couldn't, believe them yet. He lifts his head, staring at the both of them with tear-filled eyes, defeated, desperate, destitute. Hopeless...

All it was supposed to be was a quick, easy job. In and out- salvaged and done. But this time, it seemed like Huberts natural luck ran out. Or better yet, didn't extend far enough to protect his people. They were all he had, the only family he's known since he murdered his owner and escaped the shackles of slavery, and his parents abandoned him because of it. Their son wasn't a murderer, so Hubert was no longer their son...

But thise people took him under their wing at the age of twelve. Refined his knowledge of mechanics, taught him how to shoot with the best of them. They raised him...

And now, like the walls of this ship, their pieces too, lie on the floor like so much debris.

 

[Remus Avar]

TAGS: Scherezade deWinter
Hubert Starhopper

The Former Force Wound looking at DeWinter gave a bow of respect,
“It is a honor to meet you Lady DeWinter.”
Her offering some cheese to them he took some and placing it in his pouch on his belt, he was not ready to remove his mask because of the Life Support System information on the Bridge, which since she was not intending to use her blades for carving, but seemed affable, for the moment anyway, he deactivated his saber and lowering the hilt said,
“This meeting.. did you get a name, to give us any clue who has drawn us all to this dead ship?”

Turning to Hubert and hearing about the Monster and the death of a close friend, Remus began placing his free hand on his shoulder,
“My condolences on your loss. Since you have brought it up, the Bridge recordings spoke of something ‘picking off’ crew members, and I suspect that it is this Creature that you speak of.”

Assessing the situation like a Consular Jedi, he turning to Lady DeWinter,
“If I were to lend aid in your retrieval of what you seek, would you in turn help me save any more poor souls on this vessel? I will honor if any should seek you harm your rights of self defense and not judge your discretion, only that I may acquire what I have come for, to help those stranded on this vessel.”

He then turning to Hubert,
“I understand your grief is raw, alas you know this Monster, and would provide us with the only solid details on how it hunts. Thus I propose a mutually beneficial alliance. We find what you seek Milady, we slay this Monster and avenge your friend Hubert, and I make amends for past sins.”

The Jedi Aspirant was hopeful, the Woman was strong in her aura, and while many would flee from her, he did not fear being in her presence, if anything there was a primal energy that he found soothing, if that was what he sensed, he could be wrong and allowing the dark side to court him again. As for the Poor Hubert, asking him to go back into harm’s way was a big ask, and yet he would know no peace unless he faced this Demon, and saw it destroyed. This was something Remus knew well, for the Demon he abjure was within himself, and he hoped to achieve it’s exorcism under the Jedi.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Hubert Starhopper & Remus Avar

---

Hubert. Now there was a name you didn't hear often these days! Still, Scherezade nodded to him. As long as he didn't try to kill her, she had no cause to hurt him either, even if by what she understood, his friends had tried to harm her indeed. She wasn't someone you couldn't reason with. Sometimes.

And as Hubert spoke of a monster, the light in Scherezade's eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement. A monster? She was going to fight a friggin' monster?! Finally, something interesting on this sithspit of a ship that was better than killing people who tried to cheat on you! This was wonderful news, and while Hubert was very obviously in distress about it, the Sithling practically bounced in her step, wanting to get her gore-covered hands on that beast. Ohh, depending on what the beast was and its size, she had so many grand plans on how to take it down.

Or maybe just catch it. Catching beasts was a good thing as well. There were people who were willing to pay good credits for that kind of thing.

Finally, Scherezade sheathed her blade.

"Hubert," she said softly, "Did you see the monster itself? And is any of the blood on you, yours?"

If he said yes to both questions, she would want to lick it. Yes, it sounded weird. Yes, she was aware of the fact that it sounded weird. But it was blood. Blood was her strength. She didn't actually want to drink it, but the blood of people often held their memories, and unless Hubert was a kind of creature that could manipulate it, the vision would help her access what monster they were about to chase.

Only then did she turn her attention back to Remus. He thought the monster was picking people off. Judging Hubert's story, Scherezade merely assumed that it was both her and the monster that had reasons for people here to die. But, "Sure," she shrugged carelessly, "I will not raise my blade against any who don't try to harm me first." But there was also that whole part about helping save them. Ugh.

"Fine," was the only thing she could say to that, "We join our blades together. Monster dies, Scherezade gets her thing, we save people. Sounds like a cozy afternoon. There's a small not-well-touristed planet nearby, we can hop there afterwards for lunch. Killing things makes me so ravenously hungry."

 

[Hubert Starhopper]

Objective: Survive



Tags: Scherezade deWinter Remus Avar

Gear: Custom Blaster Pistol, Tool-Kit



-----------



"Wha-? N-no. Blood ain't- ain't mine..."


There it is... His stutter. Only in extreme duress does Hubert Stutter. Short, and unhendering it may be, it's proof alone that he's more or less gone off the deep end. His state becoming more manic as the memories of his friends being torn to shreds like trees on Endor keep looping behind his eyes. But as Remus suggests that Hubert could regail them with the details of its patterns, his breath hitches, and it's almost as if the air around them stops with it.

"I-it ain't hun-nting. It's playin' with us. Jebediah was bat-ted again-st the floor like a-a ball. We blasted away at-it, but not even our he-heav-y guns could pierce it."

His face slips into a blank slate, his eyes lingering over the mental image of his friends, his family now gone. Pulled apart for some creatures entertainment.

"It makes this... chittering sound... like, clicks almost. I didn't see any eyes on it but, I never really saw it in the light. It stays in the shadows."

His eyes meet with Remus's, then Scherezade's, the pit of blackness in his soul numbing the pain as it opens slowly. The look on his face preaches truth, if his tone and temper didn't already. He wipes his tears with his sleeve, causing the grease around his eyes to smudge more, darkening the sockets.

He pulls a cigarette from the pack in his coat, then his fusion cutter from his tool-kit to light it. He stands straight, having gotten what raw reaction out he needed, and deciding to save the rest for later like some melancholic leftover.

As the cigarette hangs from his lips, he takes a long drag, the orange glow illuminating his face more in the edge of the shadows he stands in. With a slow exhale through his nose, he thinks over the details, as painstaking as it may be...


"I heard those blades can cut through anything. Never really seen one in action. Since it's playing with me..."

Hubert draws his pistol, a rusted frame holding old parts, but never a more reliable pistol has Hubert ever owned. His very own junkyard masterpiece.

"...I can bait it. If you two watch my back for a few minutes, I could 'prolly rig a door to drop. Or, if that fails, maybe you two could... y'know."

He extends his free arm into the air, his fingers stretched out in a reach before he slams it downward as if he were closing a hatch.

"...Can do the thing. The Force."

A dry gulp emanates from Hubert.

"Sh-should work like-a, like-a charm... Heheh..."

Ohhh, those seeds of doubt...

 

[Remus Avar]

TAGS: Scherezade deWinter Hubert Starhopper

The Jedi Aspirant attentively watched as Lady DeWinter became curious over the Monster, and speaking on wanting it’s blood. This yearning reminded him of his former need to drain, to draw the life force out of beings. Something he was seeking atonement for.

Her agreement to his terms of alliance was pleasing, especially to help rescue any survivors, though her tone was sardonic, and perhaps belied that was not priority. Still to have her blades carving against the Monster they would now hunt was worth it. As for Hubert, he knew a great deal of their foe, and suggesting to use a door to pin the creature was a good plan,
“That is a fine plan Hubert, we need to corner it and a door would help pin the creature, and give all of us an opportunity to assess and potentially slay it.”

Looking back to Lady DeWinter,
“If you have methods to track it.. then do so, I will not be offended if they are Dark.”
This was his way of saying that despite his Jedi Leaning, he was not going to project his beliefs on her or any one in their Alliance. It would take all of their talents to bring down the Monster.

Remus wrist pad began to beep, as he saw the feed of his Prob Droid, movement, and suddenly the screen went static, he scrolling hack the time stamp and saw SUB Level 3.

“My Droid was patroling one of the sub levels of the ship.. and something was on screen before the feed was cut. That is a lead.”

Hubert’s comment about them doing their thing, the Force made him chuckle,
“Trust me my friend.. if it comes to that we are in bad shape, The Force is like running, it is what one does when a plan falls apart.”

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Remus Avar & Hubert Starhopper

---

Not his blood. The disappointment was easy to read on Scherezade's face at the sound of that, since it meant things would slightly more 'not easy as expected'. It was disappointment. The next option she thought of was to reach into his mind and yank the information she required out of there, but that would likely not sit well with her companions for the day, and if she had to kill them before she took the monster on (not to mention the rest of her plans that had to be done before she left)… She could do it, but it seemed like the hassle just wasn't worth it.

The glow of her gaze seemed focused beyond normal human levels as she looked at Hubert, intently collecting every morsel of information and what it meant as he spoke. Chittering clicky sounds that stayed in the shadow. There were both too many and not enough things she knew of that did that, and despite the fact he did shed some light, it wasn't enough to make any tangible plans that she could rely on. So as always, Scherezade was going to play it by ear and see who the bigger monster was, the thing that ate random people, or herself.

When Hubert began to smoke, she helped herself to using the Force to pull a cigarette from his pack. It landed perfectly between her lips, and a flash of a lightsaber, glowing as green as her eyes, was used to light it. She wasn't really a smoker, but sometimes… You just needed to huff and puff.

And now he was offering to bait it?

Scherezade's eyes narrowed as she looked at him. One moment he was afraid and shaking and terrified, ready to chit his pants, the next moment he wanted to be live bait. That… Did not quite sit well with her. It was almost too easy. And Remuse the Jedi was cool with it?

The stillness in her grew as she continued the smoke, going half-burned before she grew bored with it and gave it a toss to the other side of room.

"When you try to corner a monster that fits your description, you're going more likely going to be the one who's in danger," she noted out in response to his words. He was cheerful. Too cheerful. Her levels of trust were rapidly going down for both of the men.

But that was okay. There were ways to get around that without breaking her word.

"Lead the way," she said after a short break to both of the males. If anyone tried to trap her, it would give her reason to kill them without breaking a promise. Until such a moment occurred, or until they found their little monster, that was good enough for her.

Scherezade stretched, already prepared to leave. If anyone expected her to bring one of her many blades out for this, they would be wrong. The bloodied sword had already been sheathed earlier, and as for the rest… it was going to depend on who and what exactly the monster was.

 

[Hubert Starhopper]

Objective: Survive



Tags: Scherezade deWinter Remus Avar

Gear: Tool-Kit, Custom Blaster Pistol



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At the sight of a cigarette levitating out of his pocket he jumps a little, but in the same instance, he realizes what happened and that alarm subsides with a huff of relief. His newfiund Sith ally is right. This is likely a suicide mission, and truth be told things would be a lot easier if he just pointed these two in the right direction, and kept running, but there is a trait about the creature he noticed. He wasn't sure about it, but it was true thus far.

"Trust me, lady I would love nothing more than to leave. But Im afraid this karkin' thing would chase me out of here. Im surprised it hasn't found me yet..."

Another drag is taken from his cigarette, the cloud of smoke trailing behind him as it's exhaled. Usually Hubert would do his best to keep his smoke from bothering others, but this time he isn't even thinking about it.

"...Once it picks up on a target, it don't wanna' 'nother plaything. Before Keeb was killed, our Gunners tried distracting it. It didn't even hurt them as it pushed past to get to Keeb- our Techie. When it came after our gunners, it only focused one at a time, even with all of the yelling, obstructing, and blasting the other gunner provided.

It don't prioritize to my knowledge. So I'm worried if you two go after it, it won't care, and slip your guard to get to me. And if that's the case, well, I'll be standing at a trap. If not... I'm sure you two could take it. I wouldn'tset this plan if y'all weren't holding those blades.

Hubert turns left down one of the decrepit halls, his feet scattering debris and crunching over glass from popped light fixtures. As they reach the end of the hall, he stops, turns right and remains in place, frozen in a state of shock. He begins to take small steps backwards, his breathing starting to pick up in a panic.


"T-turn ar-round now..!"

His voice is carried in a hushed whisper, scared and shaking. He quickly pivots on his heel, but before he even makes it to his second step, something wraps around his ankle, and pulls taught, bringing him down to a harsh slam directly onto his face. A second, only a second Hubert looks up to his only hope, pure terror in his eyes before his entire being is pulled so hard, and so quick into the darkness he left the ground again, and was gone from their eyes faster than he hit the ground.

His screams for help, and the sounds of his pistol firing at random into the abyss echo through the ships hull, rapidly growing further and further away.

Turns out, he may have been right about how it likes to play with its food...