Varys Amun
Varys hadn’t answered her question. And while Rayia would normally say that thinking of things outside of the immediate battle was detrimental to your health, she couldn’t help the cold pit of dread that settled into her stomach. Something told her she wouldn’t like the answer, even if Varys had responded.
WHO would go into Sith space? Who would go into enemy occupied territory during a two front war?
Scouts, or spies, the insane, or the desperate come to mind. Rayia couldn’t help thinking. She doubted someone like Varys would stoop to being a spy. And while the jury was out on the second, the third option seemed far more likely.
The question is, why? Damn it all. Not for the first time Rayia wished she had a better understanding of Mandalorian culture.
Rayia’s mind snapped back to the fight at hand as she felt the shock of resistance shudder down the metal bar she was using as an improvised weapon. Her keen awareness latched onto the individual slinking towards the back of the pack, clearly cradling a broken wrist. For the briefest of moments, she felt the beast within rattle at its chains and fought to surpress the animal instinct of satisfaction at wounded prey.
‘That isn’t the priority now,’ Rayia thought as she could see that the space, or lack thereof, was hampering both her own and Varys’ efforts. While Varys wrestled with the spiked helmed Mandalorian, Rayia was intercepted by the others. With this many bodies hemmed in close inside the transport’s cabin, Rayia couldn’t push through the throng towards her new sister.
Rayia danced between blows, utilizing her Felacatian gift of being able to sense motion through her tail. But the sheer number prevented her from advancing. If she tried it, the numbers were on their side. Some of them were bound to sneak in some lucky hits. But it had to be done. Her nose couldn’t fail to miss the acrid scent of blood coming from Varys’ direction. Rayia only hoped she could manage to walk the already fraying line of controlling the beast.
Pushing forwards, she deflected the strike of one opponent’s vibroaxe into the transport’s pleated seats utilizing the metal pole she had wrenched from the wall. The seat exploded with a shower of stuffing, causing Rayia’s heart to beat just a bit faster.
Thump. She released the pole and stepped into her opponent’s reach, simultaneously elbowing them in one of the flexible pieces of their armor. A gap intended to allow them to move. Even still, the disciplined warrior hung on, slugging Rayia across the cheek with beskar reinforced knuckles. A thin red line on her cheek bled as her skin burst from the scrape. Rayia only smiled, with a mouth suddenly filled with fangs. Far too many for it to hold.
It bowled them over, and Rayia shoved them into the aisle away from them. But another mandalorian in deep sea purples and greys stepped forwards even as she threw their buddy into a seat. Rayia twisted away from the thrust she could feel coming, but was caught off guard when a speaker on the man’s armored gauntlet blared.
Thump. Thump.
Rayia cringed away from the noise, ears laying back protectively. The small, fixed vibroblade on the man’s guantlet lanced into her shoulder and provoked an inhuman snarl. She could feel the beast seeping into her; her skin itching as a line of hot, wet crimson began to slowly trail down her arm.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Muscles moved beneath her skin, tearing and reforming, as the strength of the beast infused her. Rayia grabbed for her opponent as he started to withdraw his blade. Her hand wrapped around his wrist with a crack as she jabbed her other clawed fingers forwards to piece his side underneath the armor plate. The man sputtered, staining Rayia’s cheek with flecks of blood.
Locked as she was, Rayia reacted a little late to Varys’ warning. She could feel the Whistling birds move through the air, heading towards the fuselage on her side of the cabin. Using her grip on the man’s rib, Rayia threw herself backwards and him forwards. The result was that he took the brunt of the explosion, even as it shoved Rayia back against the lip of an aisle. Air streamed from the hole, pulling at Rayia and the other mandalorians.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Rayia shut her eyes as the dizzying motion threatened to overwhelm her and buried her claws deep into the durasteel frame of the transport’s seats. There was a reason her people remained so isolated and disliked space travel. Being able to sense every motion in your vicinity isn’t great when your entire world is spinning, or falling, as the case may be. Cracking her eyes just a tad, Rayia fixed Varys with a wild, amber eyed stare. Letting go with one hand, she mimed the motion of a very simple question:
“Jump?”