Face God and Walk Backwards Into Hell

[Joza Perl]

While Joza’s takedown had been fairly smooth, Abelain’s had been far more gritty than she had expected. She was not surprised that the Sith went in for the kill immediately—and frankly, could not blame him considering their current position as escaped prisoners—but he tore through the Trandoshan with raw, animalistic bloodlust. In all honesty, it made her stomach turn a bit with the intensity of the situation—there was no need to go as far as Abelain had gone, as the lizard man would have likely been dispatched with a few well-placed slashes of the creature’s arm blades.

Furthermore, the Zeltron had no idea that her own pheromones may have incited the Arue’tii’s savage hunger. Fortunately, she had halted her racial ability as soon as the fight began for focus reasons.

Her gaze swept from the stunned Weequay to what remained of the Trandoshan, then back up to Abelain. “The feth was that?” She sounded a bit taken aback, unaccustomed to seeing such violent behavior from the chitin beast. Sure, Sith often employed savage methods, but it almost seemed as if he was possessed. “You alright, Abe? We need to be focused if we’re getting out of here alive.” There would be time to analyze whatever that was later, as their scuffle seemed to attract company.

A few shouts and the shuffle of running feet could be heard from somewhere nearby in the facility. Joza cursed again, and looked over at the pair they’d managed to subdue. The Weequay’s clothes were intact, but the Trandoshan’s were decidedly not. Welp, there went that plan. Extending a hand, she lifted one pistol, then another from the Weequay’s body and flattened herself against the wall near the doorway. “Hope you saved some bloodlust for our friends.”

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

[member="Joza Perl"]
As the last of the pheromones were removed from the room, Abelain recognized what he had accomplished. The corpse of the Trandoshan was beyond simple mutilation, and he averted his gaze from the abomination of viscera and blood that remained piled into the corner of the room. He wasn't entirely sure what had incited his hunger, but there was a fairly decent assumption made that it had something to do with the seduction abilities of the Zeltron. Of course, he couldn't base the entire conclusion on one experiment, and so he made a mental note to test his hypothesis at a later date. The benefits of his savagery revealed themselves in satisfying his hunger, and he felt the warm iron tasting liquid flow through his stomach, scenting it as it carried on throughout it's digestive journey.

He awaited the response of his companion, and wasn't disappointed when she exclaimed an inquisitive expletive. It was a fairly reasonable response given what had just occurred, and her prior experiences with him not having been nearly as... messy. Once more, Joza questioned whether the health of the Arue'tii was up to par for the remainder of their escapades, and he found himself unable to answer quickly enough to sate his own shock. "I am fine. I was famished, but now I am well." He knew that was a short explanation for whatever condition had overtaken him, but it was also truthful enough that he could deliver it fairly easily without worrying about triggering an investigation into his deception.

There were noises emanating out from the hallway, and from nearby rooms that had no doubt heard a mixture of brutal murder, and the firing of the Trandoshan's weapon. There plan had been utterly ruined by his own actions; the Trandoshan's clothing had been severed to ribbons along with his flesh, and now it seemed as though they would be forced to combat a large host of enemy combatants. Joza armed herself with the weapons upon the ground, and the Arue'tii felt himself instinctively grasp for one of his two weapons, only to find them absent from their usual place of residence. It was disturbing not having any manner of tool to facilitate the violence, but he held two natural blades in the form of his chitinous elbows, and he felt confident that he possessed enough strength to rattle and snap the bones of assailants with relative ease.

"Let them come." He challenged aloud, and put himself into position around one side of the door to flank anyone entering. A particularly slight Weequay rushed into the room wielding some manner of blaster rifle, and immediately saw the gore of his Trandoshan ally. Abelain had no true physiological knowledge of the species, but even he could discern that the poor fellow felt like vomiting at the sight, and a moment later a large blue chitinous hand clenched around his chest. The Sith twisted his form, putting momentum into his swing as he hurled the Weequay into the ceiling with enough force to crack it. The limp fellow came back down to the ground already out of commission. More would come.

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza fixed Abelain with a blank stare in response to his explanation, not quite sure how to react to that statement. Famished? Famished for battle, or an actual physical hunger than needed to be sated? It made her a bit ill to think that this was how his people regularly ate, but then again she’d seen stranger things. Maybe. But their company would arrive at any second, so Joza would have to wonder about the Arue’tii’s feeding habits later.

Her gaze flickered over towards her makeshift partner in those few seconds, noting how he reflexively tried to grasp something that was not there. The Zeltron felt his frustration. She supposed if they had their sabers handy, they’d have cut through the pirate fortress like hot butter and been on their separate ways. Alas, they were without a traditional Force-user’s weapon, but they’d been doing rather well so far, all things considered. Joza was grateful that she happened to be partnered with a Sith who was more interested in escaping than cutting her down simply for her affiliation. Perhaps that would change once the danger was over.

She remained still as stone as the first Weequay ran in, shocked by the sight of the massacred Trandoshan. Unfortunately, that would be the less painful of the surprises, as he was quickly dispatched by Abelain’s superior strength. A few of the pirates who were on the now-dead Weequay’s heels began firing into the room with reckless abandon, either forgetting that they could have potential allies inside, or not caring at all.

Joza scrunched herself further against the wall to avoid the initial hail of bullets, crouching to the ground and peeking out from behind the corner. She’d managed to snipe on in the neck before ducking back behind the door to avoid taking any fire. “We need to meet them head on. A firefight in such a small room will kill—“ She paused, looking Abelain up and down. “—me.” Inching towards the door frame, her eyes lit up. Down the far end of the widening hall, she could see bits of sky!

“I think we’re near a hangar, or maybe even an airfield. If we can make it down this hallway and manage to commandeer one of their crappy ships, we might make it out of here intact.” Now that she spoke out loud, it sounded a little crazy. But what choice did they have? The Zeltron was no stranger to trouble, and she doubted that Abelain hadn’t seen worse. “I’ll cover you.”

As the first wave came—a trio of rifle wielding Weequay—Joza tucked one of the blasters into the belt of her cloak and reeled her now free hand back. Pushing it forward, a hefty Force Barrier would slam into their opponents, knocking them back and scattering them like bowling pins.

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

[member="Joza Perl"]
The Arue'tii felt no hunger, but still his olfactory senses were alive with the scent of blood. He could smell the Weequay as they charged down the hallway, and that gave him an advantage that they simply did not possess. Dispatching the first of their force had been as simple as hurling the pirate into the ceiling with enough force to break his spine. It's companions responded by sending a hailstorm of firepower into the small room, and Abelain watched as darts of burning plasma streaked into the wall, leaving scorch marks and dents. His companion leaned somewhat out of the doorway, and fired with her own weapon, and the scent of boiling blood touched him. The slight gurgling noise of the pirate's death was drummed out by the continuing fire, and the stomping boots of his compatriots, and it seemed as though his demise was insignificant.

A pair of loose bolts struck him in the arm, but they were easily absorbed by his chitinous armor. A glance at Perl revealed that she had taken cover to avoid the assault, and she spoke of attacking them lest she be cut down by the blasterfire. It was somewhat tempting to simply allow that action to occur, and thus eliminate a philosophical opponent, however he was fairly certain that she would be useful in securing their escape as he had almost no piloting experience whatsoever, and their previous talks had revealed that they weren't terribly different in their viewpoints on the subjects of galactic politics, and therefore Abelain had hope that she would learn the error of her ways. Despite that, he had absolutely no desire for her to ever become a Sith as that would simply be another rival in the quest for power that he would need to eliminate, or deceive.

She spoke once more of their being a hangar nearby, and how running to that location might be the key to their survival. "Your plan seems to rely very highly on 'if'." He stated, clearly detecting the uncertainty of their actions, and how they might lead to them being entrapped in a single room. Abelain had no better plans for the moment, however, and as Joza promised to provide him covering fire, he stepped out into the hallway. Immediately, bolts of red light struck into his chest, but they were nothing compared to his chitin, and he began a slow approach. His ally provided a barrier which struck the trio to the ground, and allowed the Arue'tii to pick up his speed.

He charged through the corridor as though he were an Aurochs. His speed was supplemented with the Force, and he zoomed through the hallway as though nothing could stop him; nothing could. His feet struck heavily against the ground with his full weight, and he listened as it boomed with the force striking against it with every step. He made contact with one of the Weequay, and felt his arm turn to shattered bone, and meat as he was trampled underfoot. Another pair of enemy combatants opened fire, but the blows were once more absorbed, and he slammed into them with remarkable force, sending their broken forms into the walls, and allowing their limp bodies to fall. Joza had seemingly been correct about the presence of a nearby hangar, and he rushed towards the promising light.

The gentlest humming noise buzzed through his ear as he finally reached it, and he felt hope rush through his system as he passed through the final doorway. The humming had grown ever so slightly louder as he had neared the hangar, and upon reaching it, he discovered it's source. A gunship of some manner floated lazily overhead, and as the Arue'tii came into it's sight, it opened fire. The thunderous blast echoed down the hallway, and the chitinous Sith was thrown heavily from his feet with a scorching warmth creeping across his entire body. Pain shot through his system as he was blown out of reach of the gunship, and back towards Joza.

 

[Joza Perl]

“If is all we’ve got right now.”

If they were going to die, they’d do it out in the open, damnit. Not pinned like animals.

As Abelain darted out into the hallway, Joza snuck behind him, pistols raised. Thankfully the pirates seemed to focus on the bruiser rather than his smaller pink ally, pumping the chitin-clad creature with blaster bolts that seemed to do next to nothing. Her own skill was a blaster was decent, but she spent more time dodging and blocking shots with the phrik in her arm. It left unsightly dents in the pink synthflesh, even tearing through it in some places. But she could worry about the smoothness of her skin later.

Thankfully, the Arue’tii was a good distraction due to his sheer size, speed and intimidating presence. Joza thanked whatever deities there may or may not be that he was an agreeable creature, and held their escape in higher regard than taking the life of an enemy. She knew of some Sith who were not as tolerant.

Never had she been so happy to not be a Weequay pirate.

As they burst into the hangar, the pair of escapees were greeted to the site of a low hovering gunship. Unfortunately, Abelain found himself in the line of fire and took a direct hit to the chest. Joza winced, knowing that even with his natural armor that it had to hurt. Sorry, Abe.

"Hang on for a few more minutes, Abe, we might be able to get ourselves out of here..."

Using the distraction that he’d afforded them, the smaller figure of Joza darted towards the ship, using a Force enhanced jump to cling at the craft’s underbelly. She tried to kick in the ramp to no avail, eventually settling on an option she had forgotten about.

Flexing her left arm, Joza activated the Makrosian light shield that had been embedded within it. As it burst to life, the shield tore at the pink synthflesh covering the cybernetic, leaving a robotic bare arm in its wake. She could worry about her appearance later, and set to work cutting a hole in the bottom of the ramp, twisting her arm as she did so in order to create a circular opening. Hopefully Abelain would be alright, but Joza had an odd sense of faith in the Sith warrior. He was a capable man…beast…pointy…thing.

A circular chunk of durasteel would fall away, and the Zeltron would vault herself through the newly made door after deactivating the shield in her arm. Thankfully the shield worked in the same manner as a lightsaber—though it was embedded, and shaped differently. Learning to use it had been quite the challenge.

As the pair of Weequay at the controls turned towards her, Joza was too tired of this to even let out a charming “Hello boys!” Instead, the pink sentient dodged a few shots of fire before extending a Stasis Field towards the two. The pair of pirate’s eyes glazed over as they entered a catatonic state, and the Zeltron wasted no time in kicking them aside for good measure. Little did she know of a third Weequay who had been in the back, raising a rifle towards the pink woman at the helm.

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

[member="Joza Perl"]
Pain twisted about throughout the creature's chest as though it were a parasite digging around his organs. It came in rapid surges that pulsed within his nervous system, and he felt as though thinking had become incredibly difficult. There was blackness for a brief interlude, and it enveloped every detail of the room with the briefest interval, and suddenly everything exploded once more into vibrant color as he fought off the urge to fall to unconsciousness. A wandering hand passed over his wound, and felt the blood that leaked down from where the gunship had stripped chitin and flesh away with mechanical brutality. The feeling was not unlike the time when he had nearly died at the hands of the Dark Jedi, but this felt far warmer on his body than had the telekinetic assault given by the latter. Muscle and sinew had been scorched, and melded together with an intense heat, and it was a wonder that the blast hadn't completely severed him in half with the force.

His legs refused to operate under current conditions, and though he was fairly confident that he could cause them to twitch, he had no strength remaining to force himself to stand. There was faint scent of Joza's blood as she rushed past him to deal with the gunship, but other than a vague acknowledgement that she had survived, he paid her no heed whatsoever. There was a loud clanging noise from somewhere far off, but to the dying Arue'tii, it was muffled. Despair crept through his innards, and struck repeatedly against his mind as it tried to force him to simply surrender, and to accept his place among the One Escalation. Desire slithered to his heart, wrapping around it and protecting it from the vile blows of the aforementioned emotion.

It was not a desire to conquer, or a desire to hunt. It was not a desire to shed the blood of foes, nor to accumulate the great treasures of the galaxy. There was no desire to reenact history, or to learn of the fall of grand empires. All of those became vain in Abelain's clouded mind, and only one gleaming and supreme desire remained within his system; to survive. He forced himself onto his stomach, yelping in agony as his raw scorched flesh, and organs scraped against the ground. The creature dragged itself towards the Weequay that it had pounded into the walls only moments earlier, and left a trail of blood, and bits of torn gore in it's wake. Every motion was excruciating, but that desire drove him forward where nothing else could, and it fueled the shadowy whispers of the Dark side that offered encouragement as he neared the incapacitated foes.

They were both still alive; Abelain could scent their blood as it rushed throughout their arteries, and veins before returning to their hearts. His hands limply clasped around the skull of one of the assailants, and he attempted to squeeze hard enough to retain a grip. The Dark side flooded through his system as he realized what he needed to do, and it escaped from his body into the unconscious figure. The Dark side was commonly used for destructive capabilities, and those few helpful abilities that it did offer held dire consequences. Healing with it required a sacrifice, and Abelain had used it in the past to assist in the recovery of his underlings. There had never been any serious consideration on it's application as a self-healing tool, especially without a willing host, but the man could not resist, and thus he would work well enough.

Shadowy and crimson energies lashed out from his hands, forming a visual aid in his activities. They grasped onto chunks of skin, and muscle, and began to rend them from their host with violent force, yanking the strips asunder with a savagery that rivaled his own. The Weequay was not conscious, and that traumatic concussion might have saved him from experiencing his last moments, but in spite of that, his body still twitched, and jerked, and shrieked a sound so awful that it sapped the hope from several pirates who were beginning to make their way to the hangar. The sound reverberated throughout the corridors, and bounced off of walls, and it echoed through the very souls of those that heard it's cry. It was atrocious, and awful in a way that Abelain had never heard before, and he felt himself shudder at his close proximity to the beings fate as it was slowly torn to ribbons to sate his own desire.

The screams continued for nearly a minute before finally they fell into the ether, leaving only a deathly silence in their wake. Flesh and bone were converted to work for his own form, and sutured onto his body haphazardly to cover his wound. The bone was twisted into plates of chitin, and attached as best as they could be to minimize any damage taken by the underlying injury, and vigor once more flooded into his body.

The vigor was followed by exhaustion, and despite being in near-perfect health after his operation, the Arue'tii stumbled to the ground, and lay there.

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza didn’t sense the third pirate’s presence until it was too late—she turned just as he fired off a slugthrower round, only having enough time to raise her cybernetic arm to hopefully lessen the impact. But the Weequay had missed her—and not barely. It turned out that he was not aiming for the Zeltron, but rather for the body of one of his unconscious comrades…or rather, the canister of Stun Gas that was strapped to his waist.

The instant the bullet made contact with the metallic container, a puff of gas exploded forth and enveloped Joza. It pulled the two Weequay into a further state of unconsciousness, but the third one backed away from the cloud carefully, as if waiting for his prey to either black out or to come stumbling out, confused and vulnerable.

Joza felt the effects of the gas immediately after she’d breathed it in. Disorientation set it, and she felt as if her extremities were beginning to numb. This wouldn’t have been a problem if she had a rebreather, but she didn’t, and would have to do something quick lest she pass out. Instinctively gathering the Force to her, she paused for a second as a wave of dizziness overtook her. With the vertigo gave panic, and she extended a hand outwards in a Force Push. The last Weequay cried out as he was slammed against the wall a few feet behind him, rifle falling from his hands.

The Force push had effectively dispersed enough of the gas for Joza to indeed come stumbling out like a fool, though it was the pirate who was unconscious. Feeling a wave of nausea roll over her, the Zeltron’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she dropped to her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach onto said pirate. Boy was he not going to be happy when he woke up.

Thankfully she hadn’t been exposed to the Stun Gas for very long, and was well enough to move around, hit some buttons and manage to lower the boarding ramp. Shuffling towards the opening, one hand gripping the railing above, she swallowed a bit of bile. Her frantic eyes did not have to search for long, as she spotted the unmistakable form of Abelain hunched over on the ground.

“Abeeeeee!” She called out, burping a bit of bile up before shuddering.

“Get. In. Here.”

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

[member="Joza Perl"]
Life surged once more through the being that had toed the line of death, and suddenly the metal floor that his hands groped uselessly against took on texture, and he could feel. They were cold, not unlike the annihilated corpse of the Weequay he had unceremoniously recycled only moments ago. The pain had mostly disappeared once the offending wounds had sutured themselves up with rent flesh and muscle, but a faint phantom ache seemed to pulse uncomfortably through them whenever he took a movement. He was alive, but he had paid the price with an intense exhaustion that fought against him as he tried to raise himself to his feet. He had never been so tired in all of his years. He had fought upon battlefields that had seen carnage for many days without any respite, and in those dire circumstances he had managed to stay awake without much difficulty, but this tiredness felt far more mental than physical. Despite that, it seemed to stretch throughout his entire being, and to reach deep within the confines of his psyche, sapping away energy as if though it was required to keep the wound closed.

The Arue'tii knelt upon a knee as though he were about to utter a prayer. His eyes cast upwards towards the heavens, but he sought not the divine, and instead allowed his gaze to settle upon the stationary form of the gunship. He could swear that smoke still billowed slowly from it's cannons, but upon further investigation, it appeared to be leaking out from within the cockpit of the vessel. He was tired, and couldn't quite put a finger on why that was bad, but he knew instinctively that it was troublesome. His blood scent scanned the air around him, but he found it difficult to focus upon any particular smell, and was thus unable to locate Joza. A vicious hiss echoed out from the vehicle, and it opened up it's metallic jaws, revealing the Zeltron. She had been entrapped within it's stomach, and that meant that he needed to save her!

No, that was wrong. It was a machine, not a creature, and she was in control, not in danger. He watched her mouth open and close, and heard noise, but the words wouldn't come to him. It was all gibberish, and the utterances that did manage to break through his exhaustive state held no context. An acrid stench coaxed response from his olfactory system, and he came to realize that she had vomited upon the floor of the station; perhaps she was not as well as he had initially thought. Abelain knew that he needed to get into the vehicle, but he wasn't sure that his legs would carry him the several feet expanse. For how small of a distance it truly was, he mentally thought of it with the same difficulty as swimming across an ocean channel. His feet felt limp, and somewhat numb, but he forcibly jerked his knees upwards until he was standing; or more accurately, wobbling.

Each step sapped another bit of energy from his reserves, but he simply closed his eyes, and kept himself moving. There was a dull thud after several seconds, and he recognized that he had crossed into the bay. His hand lashed out lazily towards a control panel, pressing several buttons at once, and the landing gear retracted back into the flying contraption. He saw Joza near him, and his eyes glared into hers for the briefest instant, verifying that she was generally unharmed.

Then he collapsed.

 

[Joza Perl]

Despite being nauseous, disoriented and only having a basic understanding how to fly a ship, Joza managed to smash enough buttons and pull enough levers—were there even levers?—to get them out of here. Moreso, she’d managed to fire off the guns attached to either side of the ship, scattering the pilots and sending them crashing against the wall of the hangar. And again. This time they graze the roof as the ship turned on its side.

Eventually, by some miracle of the Force, they managed to make it out of the hangar. Upside down, but they did it. Once righted, Joza did what she did best with ships: programs the autopilot. After a few moments, they disappeared into hyperspace, because what works better in evading pirates than a hefty dose of handwaving?

Slumping down onto the floor, Joza felt her stomach churn again from the mix of adrenaline and the nerve gas that was still affecting her system. For the first time since their escape, she laid eyes on Abelain, and winced.

“You uh…you okay, buddy?”

[member="Abelain Narv'uk"]

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

It would be a lie to say that Abelain had never been knocked unconscious in a violent and brutal manner. That was simply a consequence of the near constant warfare that he participated in, whether that conflict was on his home world, or in the greater galaxy. Savage blows would occasionally lance out, and sometimes the brute force put into an attack would send the Arue'tii spiraling onto the floor without the slightest opportunity to defend himself. He would lie utterly helpless, and completely reliant on the assistance of his allied forces to keep him safe until he had regained his abilities. The last time that he had been hit hard enough to send him completely out of a fight had been when he had fought against 'Nik'. The Dark Jedi had managed to slam him into the ground with so much force that he very nearly died, and after having healed his ally, he had passed out there upon the ruins of a desolate city.

This unconsciousness was far different from the sort that Abelain was used to, and if he were conscious, he likely would have preferred the former. There had been no penetrating attack that had rendered him into his state of helplessness, but the amount of energy that he had consumed in such a short period of time had made it nearly impossible for him to actually do anything. It was a simple matter of expending far more energy than he had left within his body. If he hadn't feasted upon the enemy Trandoshan in the room only a few moments previous, he might not have had enough energy to complete the strange Force ability that he had used to keep himself alive. That had been utterly horrifying, even for the creature which held no complaint when it feasted upon sentient life. He had perverted healing, and turned it into another method of consuming.

In the blank darkness of his mind, he might have heard the words that Joza spoke, but if he did they were only faint whispers, and echoes that had entrapped themselves within the maze of his consciousness. He jolted slightly, but that was the only response that he gave. If he could, he would have spoken to her about the recent events, and attempted to maneuver himself into a favorable position so that he might return to his warship. At that point, he likely would have released her to her own whims on the oath that she would not immediately assail their position, or report it to her allies in the Brotherhood. Abelain considered himself to be at least an adequate manipulator in such circumstances, but what was he supposed to do when he couldn't even form coherent thoughts enough to remind himself to breathe? It was a blessing that it was such an automatic thing, because if it were not, he would surely have suffocated.

His fate rested in a pair of pink hands.
[member="Joza Perl"]