Little Base of Horrors: CIS Dominion of Xagobah Hex

[Maple Harte]

Came to Xagobah in: The Silent Erika (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/130646-the-silent-erika-modified-j-type-327-nubian/)

Armed with: Staff (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/125349-maples-staff-custom-conversion/)

VT Sliid Gun (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/104578-vt-sliid-gun/)

Outback Long Gun (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/119852-wild-space-outback-long-gun/)

Wearing: Reserve Marksman Suit (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/41261-sasori-explorers-bodysuit/)

Maple shot up screaming in her bed from the horrid nightmare. The Brain Demon had showed again, chased and hounded and tortured her in her sleep.

Months of silence and then, last night, worse than it had ever been. The hideous tortures she had experienced at its hands, as it claimed it was trying to bring her to enlightenment through intense pain, was more than she thought she could bear. But she had held...barely. Waking up was no kind of mercy however, since she knew she would have to sleep again eventually.

Weeks of studying that book she had retrieved from that temple, and she barely understood any of it. But she dared not use its magic until it was thoroughly understood. That was what the Mandragora--who she was ostensibly still a part of taught...thoroughly understand a system before you employ it. In many ways, it was like learning to work a blaster. You had to know which parts went where.

But so much had gone wrong. Doashim had not spoken to her since her contact with Sawa Ike and Maranon. The dread of another encounter with The Amalgam--her own worsening madness--an the distant but not forgotten anxiety of the Amalgam eventually becoming the Mind-Binder (though Maple could scarcely imagine how being this 'Mind-Binder' could be worse than whatever The Amalgam already was.)

There was also the small fact that The Amalgam had started calling her daughter, revealing itself to be the hideous monster that had attacked her in the depths of Loste Citadel many years before.

So much did not make sense about the Shi'ido, and the more Maple interacted with her, the more she realized she knew The Amalgam...there was something familiar in her movements. The casual grace in her attacks, the carefully plotted defense, it was so familiar but her madness would not allow her to see the truth. Not yet.

She trembled as she showered, rubbing the soap over her furiously, trying to wash away the memory of the dream tortures. Skip. She was forever a prisoner of The Brain Demon. Skip. Rewind showering, pause, fast forward through shower to getting dressed. Skip. Return to standard play speed and normalcy.

Her breakfast was very light, little more than coffee and toast. It was not until another few minutes of fruitlessly looking over her old photos of Ursula that Maple decided she needed to distract herself. So she checked the bounty networks and found a hot one, who had fled to Xagobah. An infamous exchange assassin named Zadok The Unfeeling.

Maple stared at her terminal when she saw the bounty for him was at four million. Dead or Alive.

She normally never took such high paying work, CIS military actions being the sole exception. Maple was perfectly happy to stick to the fifteen to twenty thousand credit range. Easy bounties. The galaxy never ran out of them. It wasn't that she could not take a higher paying job, more that she was not in the business for the glory or challenge, but the check. This and her worsening condition made it risky.

Maple decided to take the job. She would bring him in alive if she could, but he was worth four million no matter if he was expired.

A certain coldness came over her as she selected her loadout, choosing only reliable, easy to fix weapons for the fierce environment...

Twelve hours later...

The Silent Erika, a black chromium J-Type 327 Nubian streaked through Xagobah's atmosphere, blaring I.D. to all CIS vessels in range to let them know she was friendly. The arrow like craft reflected the thick clouds around and above it as it landed in a stable patch of dirt close to the swamp Zadok was believed to be hiding in. Maple was clad in her organic looking black armor, her staff gripped as she strode off her ship, surveying the land around her. She had heard the Mandragora were casing the place for new ingredients and poisons--both of which were often one and the same.

She tried and failed to stretch her senses, her madness interfering with the attempt. But that seemed inconsequential to what she saw a second later, emerging from the trees.

Purple eyes, curvy body in an off white, almost flesh colored suit so tight fitting it looked painted on, armed with ringed double blade.

The Amalgam smiled at Maple. "Let's have us a stroll through the woods, Daughter. What say you?"

The Shi'ido vanished as Maple sprinted after her, intent on murder...and Maple realized it had been a hallucination.

The revelation made her weapon hand tremble as she went back on course to find Zadok...

 

[Vytal Noctura]

LOCATION: Dense Forest
OBJECTIVE: Gather unknown organic matter for Chemistry experimentation.

Vytal glanced over at Pomsty for a moment before the Nightsister gave a slight shake of her head. "Even if this...thing will collect many samples in a short time, it will do good to have someone able to--" One of the crew called out for their attention, and Vytal leaned forward to peer out at the area where the deWinter woman had been. Suffice it to say, the pale woman did not finish her thought aloud. It would have been too embarassing in that moment, and time was short.

Obviously there'd been more than one vine that crept along the ground. Given how dense the flora or fungi was on the planet that hardly came as a surprise. Though shooting the vine wouldn't do the woman many favors, however, with how she hovered over a hungry maw.

All anyone heard was an oath about the Fanged God before Vytal flew back to the hatch Pom had popped open.

The tattooed visage of the Dathomiri woman emerged behind the transparisteel faceplate. Her right hand reached out toward the plant even from so far away. "Ghee nah zee. Zjay nah day. Ghee nah zee. Zjay nah day," Vytal chanted as magic seeped into the voracious plant. Every vine, every petal, every root the spell sucked the life from every fibrous cell all at once. The vine that held Scherezade aloft would begin to wither and collapse off to the side; perhaps it would not drop her as far from the mouth as the green eyed woman might like, but at least she would keep her flesh intact.

"It is too early in this trip to be raising corpses, deWinter woman. Come, before something finds you just as tasty." Vytal lingered with part of her upper body hanging out of the hatch until the other woman would approach. It would be doubly embarrassing if the Nightsister slipped inside only to need to emerge a second time to help the bladed woman from another snare trap. She had intended to proclaim the other's proficiency with blades would help them! Poor timing. Then again, it was not a traditional threat they faced on this world -- as could be seen by the infernal suit she was trapped within. "We are not far from the harvest site, and have much to gather."

Yes, the bio-matter they collected would prove quite interesting. Even if nothing resulted from it, the researchers of the Mandragora would enjoy the opportunity to study something new. At the very least, however, Vytal expected them to devise a means of wide-scale cleansing. The Confederacy would no doubt find such useful if they intended to claim this world.

Tag: [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | Mandragora | Confederates | Open​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

LOCATION: Dense Forest
OBJECTIVE: Gather unknown organic matter for Chemistry experimentation.



“Well isn’t this just duckie?! Like girl’s night out. What a wonderful time we will have! The Mandragora men have a hard time showing up for things. I wonder why that is? Maybe Vytal knows? Yes?” She shook her head, confusingly. “No? Are they scared of us? Shouldn’t they be though?” The sorceress laughed.

Pom recently took up scrying with [member="Ashara Evanaris"] and wondered about what ever the Mandragora men could be doing, instead of all the work?! They left that to most of the women. The others were nowhere to be found, typically. “If I were Nightmother there’d be a chore chart! No more fooling around, happy to lucky, drunken Warlocks. They will be under control!”

“Now punch it,” she said after everyone got settled. She stared at the fumbling driver. A man...just a man. He didn’t act like the Warlocks because he could have his head handed to him at any time. He could end up with anything handed to him at any time. He was even too afraid to swagger in front of these ladies. As for Mandragora men, they were not like the Nightbrothers of Dathomir. The Mandragora men were never taught to beg, instead they were spoiled and held absolutely no respect because of this. It just turned Pom’s stomach. She fancied there is a Potion for everything imaginable; but there is still no pill for stupid arse man whose head is so big, everyone else orbits around him.

Pom has a list, and in it the property variants of plant species were listed. The plants here are genetically modified and she had all the data that was known before things went utterly wild. She wants to try to add a new potion to her list. Hopefully the rest of the highly expensive contraption isn’t as difficult as the driver makes out driving it. If he could get anything right, Pom would be happy he is someone who doesn’t have some grand ego demanding attention.

“Vytal, I simply must visit home soon. Some night when nobody will know. I want some private time.” She never did tell Vytal her reason to avoid Dathomir. One is because of, you guessed it, a man! At least at first; she has no current proof to validate that her estranged husband will have his guards waiting her appearance on Dathomir now. The other reason she avoids waltzing onto her homeworld during the light of day, is from her absolutely deplorable beginnings. For all Vytal knew at the moment, her Aunt truly birthed Pom, and therefore the two Nightsisters had been raised within the same home as sisters. But Pom knew the truth, and she could not escape it. She is not Vytal’s blood. Always, she longs for a potion for that. If she could forget through potions which already exist, she would never be clean again.

As they approached their destination Pom felt elated by the similarities in the detail of the images in the datapad, and the plant life surroundings them. She could determine their parent traits. Working with potion ingredients made her eyes, fingertips, and sense of smell keen on determining acceptable ingredients.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 8 Nozhi Blades | 2 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets |A MOTHERKRAKKING BLOWTORCH
Tags: [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | + Feel free to join!

Wiggling while being held by one leg was harder than it looked. Doing the first sit up to reach her leg was fine, but staying there was an entirely different story, especially when the material that made the vine up, the plant fiber or protein or whatever else they called it, was so stubborn that cutting it took more than a few moments. Whimpers of annoyance came from her as she continued to try to cut, ready to attack the damn thing with her teeth if that was what was going to be needed.

The words the witch chanted barely registered as she continued to try to cut herself free. The fangs bellowed her, the few times she'd glanced, seem to be waiting for her with anticipation. How often was it, she wondered, that these plants got to eat actual people? Especially people that had more than a bit of meat on them, like she did? Probably not too often.

It took her a few moments before she realized the vine was moving. Letting the knife go, she stared wildly around, needing some seconds before she comprehended that it was the witch's work. The very same witch who was now being sassy. Having nothing better to do, Scherezade stuck her tongue out just before dropping to the ground.

With a sigh, the Sithling got up without managing to keep enough dignity, and hopped into the vehicle, waving to all those who were inside of it before she sat down.

"How much do you need to gather before we set fire to this world?" she asked with bright and shiny eyes, "I only need one specific plant. Then everything can burn."

 

[Saraya Arenais]

​

Location: Forests of Xagobah​

[member=Seren] | [member=Jenmae Ophiro]​

When the Wolf appeared her eyes drew up from the floor. His brief but tender endearment earned him a small smile from the little spider, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. It felt like it was going to take an age to get used to the idea that she rather liked his affections. Some part of her still knew he didn’t deserve them, but it was slowly succumbing to the part of her that screamed out something rather harrowing. He was all she had left.

Following quickly behind and taking three steps for every one of his, Willow exited the ship. Swamps and the like hadn’t been the first choice for the Vahla to settle, and Willow had never experienced one before today. The first thing that hit her was the heat. Warmth radiated from the surface and from the skies, turning the atmosphere so thick with humidity that it felt like breathing in a lungful of steam. It reminded her of the sauna she and Seren had visited on Geonosis. The second thing she noticed was the three speeders sitting in a neat row, one beside the other.

To Seren’s question of whether or not she could ride one, Willow merely nodded. Her family had once briefly stayed with a pod racer who collected a variety of speeders. He had taken a liking to the young Vahla with the insatiable curiosity, and she had taken a liking to his machines. They only stayed a few weeks, but he had allowed her to borrow one of his more rustic machines, and Willow had loved every second of it. For a brief moment, her brows furrowed in the centre. Memories of home stung, prickled the back of her eyes and threatened to bring forth tears. The little spider did not allow them to fall.

The speeder was a welcome distraction, it was a might more advanced than the one she had used previously, but they couldn’t be that much different. One leg swung over the seat and nestled against the body of the bike. She was a little short for it, but that was of little consequence. At least she could reach the handlebars. By the time she had gotten herself comfortable enough to start the engine, Seren and Jenmae were already reving theirs, but Willow took her time.

She’d always liked the way the engine purred underneath her before she kicked it into life. She liked the feel of the leather grips wrapped round the handles, and of the weightless sensation as she tucked her feet up. Most of all, she had sorely missed the adrenaline that had slowly bubbled up from the minute the word speeder was mentioned. It wasn’t the sickening adrenaline she had become so familiar with, but an excitable one. When the wind whipped through her hair and the flora sped by so fast they became mere blurs in her peripheral vision, Willow felt free.

 

[Áine]

​

[member=Kerstan Blackmoore]​

Xagobah held little interest to Áine. A dense planet filled with swamps, smells and humidity. Born and raised on a moon covered in a sheet of grey ice and plagued with snow storms, it was of little surprise that she preferred the cold. To add to its repellent qualities, Áine had read reports that Xagobah had become home to some sort of carnivorous flora. The fiery haired siren had almost rolled her eyes at it. She was tired of fighting the way her missions often forced her to fight, never mind adding the fact that she would be defending herself against planets with a taste for flesh.

So, it went without saying that Xagobah held little interest to Áine. If it weren’t for the man waiting for her on the ship’s ramp she wouldn’t have batted an eyelid at it.

When they had first touched the surface she immediately felt the imprint of her sisters in the force. Together they were like a tidal wave, overshadowing all that held claim to the dark powers they wielded. All but one. Emerald eyes chased the path he had walked only moments ago. In recent months they had made amends, or at least he had done his best to make amends to her, and she had found herself willing to accept his efforts. After all, he had been with her from the very beginning. He was the very reason why she could take the long ballerina strides toward the ramp to meet him.

At his words, she blushed. A subtle shade of pink that, despite her efforts, was a stark contrast to her porcelain cheeks. She responded with a bird like titter, deciding to play along with his little game. ‘I suppose you could say that. If you find hot and thick beautiful.’ With a grin, she fanned herself with one hand. The heat of the jungle had already begun to turn the tip of her nose red. ‘I think I prefer the desert to the jungle.’ Offering a soft tut at his warning, Áine followed him down the ramp.

‘What on earth could you want with samples of these things anyway? Wasn’t the virus we stole on Thyferra enough?’ She liked the forest floor even less. Despite her slender frame, specifically designed to make her weak in appearance and physical strength, Áine found herself sinking into the soft dirt. Their different in height meant that every now and then she had to break into a soft jog to keep up with him. When she did, she offered him a teasing smile. ‘When we’re all done you can take me shopping. You owe me a new pair of boots.’ A fiery eyebrow lifted as she raised a foot to shake off some of the damp soil.

 

[Aspect of Defiance]

[member="Nyx N1X3"] | [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="GL3AM"] | [member=“Allya Vi’dreya”]​

Contact had been made with the living base, and the sounds which could be heard as the first lick of flame touched the wild greenery which covered the entrance of the sentient station. A screech so loud it nearly shook the very ground which they stood erupted from the core of the base. It was certainly alive, and it could feel pain.

It retaliated.

Those who took point would have seen it first, the massive plantlike tentacles which served as the arms of the core to feed its insatiable hunger. Wrapping around three of the human troopers, the tentacles disappeared as fast they had shot out. All that remained of their appearance were the screams of the soldiers as the base consumed them in a swift motion.

Silence.

Vigilance.

The base was alive, and the intruders has injured it, angered it. The base would have its revenge.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

LOCATION: Dense Forest
OBJECTIVE: Gather unknown organic matter for Chemistry experimentation.

When Scherezade managed to get free, the pale woman she'd met twice before moved back to allow the woman inside. Introductions settled and the hatch secured, the not-Dathomiri woman poised the question. It had to have been deliberate. "Why do you want to put this planet to the torch?" Vytal was not angry or even exasperated -- yet -- merely curious how deWinter had jumped straight to "I got mine, burn the rest." It was not as though she were trapped on the planet surrounded by creeping vines.

"They're scared of your chore chart," Vytal then replied to her dear Sister's rant about the men. Not that she disagreed. Where were the Warlocks? Well, of course they were there. Not this time, but it wasn't like the castle was devoid of males. Would you really find a Nightsister complaining if it were though? Women did the magick. That was how they had been raised, and were the Witches not a formidable force? Well, not if you asked Scherezade and that Nightmother she mentioned some time ago.

At least the vehicle got on the move again. Even if the plants tried to devour people, it would be nice to be outside again. The quick lending of a mystical hand to Scherezade had been a welcome change of scenery, despite how short lived it had been.

Along the way, however, Pom dropped an unexpected desire at Vytal's feet. "Home? That would be a dangerous journey," she cautioned, "but I would like to be among our Sisters one more." A hazardous endeavor, either from the Sith Empire's presence or by using the backdoor through the Netherrealm. The latter was an option Vytal had, somehow, neglected to even mention as a possibility; quite likely because of how perilous it was, and certain other...complications. Another thing she didn't mention was how she, herself, had been on Dathomir relatively recently, which was how she knew the 'backdoor' even worked. Though Vytal hadn't seen their Clan that time, nor had she been mentally or emotionally prepared for such a reunion. Then or even now. Pom... well, perhaps Pom's reason and circumstances for leaving would be easier for them to accept? Vytal wasn't entirely clear on the circumstances.

"Have we arrived?" There seemed to be indications they had or at least were close. "This contraption is automated in harvesting many such samples, is it not?" Hopefully it wasn't just a glorified means of transport. "And what is it you are seeking, Scherezade? How much of it?" For what purpose if she felt so inclined to share as well, Vytal thought. The not-Witch was both trusted and not trusted. She had told Vytal of the Confederacy. They had fought side by side on Tanaab. But there was an undercurrent about the woman and what she had said that troubled the Dathomiri woman. Being unsure of a strong woman like Scherezade did not sit well with Vytal; it was preferable to establish solid alliances or understanding as a companion or adversary. Though in truth they'd barely had time to just talk.

Tag: [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | Mandragora | Confederates | Open​

 

[Nyx N1X3]

​

​

LOCATION: Base
OBJECTIVE: Breach and Clear

Nyx watched as the Commandos forged ahead. The glow of her red optical units followed their two columns as they moved within the cleared passageway. That was both expected and not recommended. Very Human though. Many of them felt their flesh-based sensory systems were better and sizing up a situation and responding to it. When the truth of that matter was their biological evolutionary conditioning and genetic predispositions toward certain stimulus reactions were what guided the majority of their choices. They called this 'the gut feeling.' At times they were right, but more often than not Nyx thought it that strange, almost improbable chance that somehow came into fruition. Was that... the Force?

Luna Terrik's voice came in over the comm channel, however, as the woman had not so quickly forgotten about the droid assets available to her. That was... uplifting? The probability some or most of her squad might survive had gone up significantly in that moment. Complete disregard for the resources at hand only decreased one's chances of survival.

"Understood, Commander. Please do not hesitate to call on us." Nyx's voice was completely level the entire time, albeit with the slight warmth of the feminine vocalizer profile. Yet despite her even speech pattern, Nyx truly hoped the Commandos did call upon them. Of course, they were capable soldiers, but they were also more fragile and in the case of most B-1s less easily reproduced by comparison.

Her cranial unit turned so that her optics could behold the indicated B-1 droids. "Configure your weapons for short-range, wide dispersal pattern. Rapid, massive trauma is required. Do not stray far. Do not hesitate to shoot any bio-matter or technological threat that moves. We are not here to capture the base. We are here to purge it." Nyx didn't ask if there were any questions. Didn't ask if they understood the orders. They were droids. If it really came down to it they could talk in a compressed point-to-point language and discuss the planetary alignment of this solar system and its nearest neighbor in the time two organics managed 'Hello.'

That said, if the GL3AM unit would be accompanying them, Nyx might be more mindful of its thoughts. That particular B-1 seemed to stand apart.

It wasn't long before screams echoed from within the overgrown base. Nyx began the advance immediately with the flamethrown held firmly in hand. The pilot light snapped back on ready to dispense the combustible, sticky fluid of whatever was most deserving of their scorn. As her probability simulations had predicted, sending in the organics first was a risky move; but they always replied afterward, 'nothing ventured nothing gained.' Somehow they avoided looking at what they lost along the way. It never made sense, but organic sentients rarely did. It was a nice conundrum for a droid to crunch.

Tag: [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="GL3AM"] | [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"]​

 

[Madalena Antares]

I'm sorry, my Yua.

She was not herself.

The days that had passed since the event on Rugosa seemed to crawl by, every moment feeling as though it could've easily lasted a decade or more. She had wanted to cry. She had wanted to scream. She had wanted to curl into herself and for her breathing to cease so that she could join [member="ToKola Bakari"].

She could do none of those things.

Instead, an emptiness had settled inside her chest, a void of emotions and feelings where prior to Rugosa she had been full of them. Where before Rugosa her face had constantly been a display of welcomeness and genuine warmth, now was a blank, a nothing. It was as though her soul had left her body and nothing remained by an empty husk.

I'm sorry, my Yua.

And while her heart was empty, it was her stomach that felt heavy. As though a burden had settled there, one that could not be lifted, not without her Lochem, her other half. A ship's anchor that attempted to drag her down, down into the very soil of any planet she stepped on itself, out into the open vastness of space when she was on a ship. To begone, to die, to rejoin him in whatever afterlife it was that existed.

Because what was an afterlife? A change of dimensions, leaving the shell of a body behind. She had done so before already anyway. What would another time be? A time in which it would be of her own choosing, her own desire to create that change. Not, as her sister had, to make herself vanish. No. But simply to move, to feel the touch of him again, to have his arms wrapped her. To wake up to his scent and to hear him call her his yua.

I'm sorry, my Yua.

What had she not done. She had begged the Mandragora for help, but they could not find him. She had begged her sister for help, even got her some of his dried blood to taste and find him, but she could not. She herself had spent countless nights trying to scry, trying to reach him, calling every power she had ever heard of to her, dark or not. There was no ToKola Bakari. There was no Cardinal Vi'dreya. There was nothing.

Every credit she had ever earned had gone into that. Billions of her sister's company, given to her without a second thought, spent as well. Bounty hunters, dimension experts, even those who claimed to be able to walk into the Netherworld.

Nothing.

I'm sorry, my Yua.

She hated him now. She hated him for leaving her behind like that, for rushing into a battle he knew he should've retreated from, for breaking his promise to her. For creating a situation in which she was forced to break her promise to him, because with him gone and her being unable to find him, she could not walk by him, and he could not walk by her side either.

Madalena raised her eyes, the glowing green almost swallowed up entirely by the darkness around her. The arrival of the Confederacy on Xagobah had not been spontaneous. She'd known about it for months, and had researched the local flora extensively, knowing what she wanted out of it.

And it was in front of the flower she sat there. How many flowers and plants had she gifted him since they'd first met? Since that first little orange fighting flower she'd discovered on Nal Hutta and brought to his office, before any feelings were in existence from one towards the other. And this one… This was she had wanted to gift him so he could decorate his new office. That he could look at and be proud of. A flower that was not only pretty, but also a predator.

Through the tears that had begun to roll silently, Madalena punched her right hand against her chest, letting out a wail that sounded like nothing human. A second punch was delivered, joined by the sound again, and she let her head drop, her eyes closing. Her cheeks were wet but she barely felt it. From empty to pain and back to empty. There was only one punch left. She was not certain she was ready to deliver it.

I'm sorry, my Yua.

Again she lifted her head, the tears now coming at a faster rate, her breathing hardened. The third punch was delivered, and with it the final wail. There would be no crying after that, no tears. It would only be her and the emptiness inside her chest, a hollow so deep that not her sister, not her wolf, not her duck, no one could ease. For the first time in her incredibly short life, she was ready to rise from her place on the earth and go figure a way out to destroy Rugosa and all that had fought on it against him. Claim the lives back, knowing in advance that it would never make it better.

Madalena opened her eyes and looked at the flower. Yua. The reason she had come to this palnet, because she had wanted to gift it to ToKola.

I'm sorry, my Yua.​

 

[Kerstan Blackmoore]

​

[member="Áine"]​

​

Hot and thick, beautiful? Kerstan let his eyes wander over his red haired creation and let them linger along her hips. His lips slowly pulled into a smug grin, and the Sith Lord simply nodded.

"You haven't looked in a mirror recently, have you?"

His retort was targeted at the vanity which he had bred into her. Kerstan was vain himself, but his vanity paled in comparison to the woman which not followed him through the jungle. It had been on purpose as she was made to look ornate. She had been created to be beautiful, and had been trained to enhance her beauty to manipulate the simple and most base parts of a man. Too many had fallen by her hand because of how good she was at what she did, and in large part her vanity ensured it. Kerstan could not be more proud of her if he wanted to be, but the thought of making her trudge through the jungle and see some of it tempered amused him slightly.

Her question was inquisitive, and reminded him of all the questions his creation had asked when she was extremely young. Kerstan smiled. What could he possibly want? Was the sample of the virus from Thyferra enough. That word jumped out at him. His head turned back over his shoulder as dark eyes settled on hers. Stopping in his tracks, Kerstan turned to face the woman, towering over her like a brooding mass of disapproval.

"Enough? You have been spending far too much time in this Confederacy if the word enough is something you can entertain in your vocabulary. I can never have enough. Perfection demands trial and error. How am I to determine what combinations produce the desired results if I do not collect samples and play with manipulating my creations? What would you be if I had not spent decade perfecting your genetic code? My dearest, never utter that word again. Erase it from your mind."

He turned and pressed on ahead.

"And I should gladly take you shopping, and you will spend the weekend with me at the lake house on Naboo. I assure you, I will make up for every bit of dirt that you will get on you today. In the meantime, we have samples to collect."

Deeper into the jungle they moved. Kerstan was looking for something particular. He wanted spores in order to harness their hallucinogenic properties. What could a soldier do in close quarter combat if it could make its enemy live their worst fear over and over again?

 

[Holt]

​

[member="Tess Valnora"]​

​

It was missions like these that made Holt hate his job. Freezing temperatures were fine, death parties were a proverbial slice of cake, and decrypting information in the middle of a cave-in was more than preferable compared to the new mission that the Ministry of Secrets had tasked Holt with. This time, it was flesh-eating plants supposedly containing a special new type of toxin that had piqued the interest of the Ministry of Science, and by the 'Ministry of Science,' anyone with a brain larger than a gundark could piece together that the Minstry of Secrets wanted in.

Truth to be told, Holt was beginning to wish that he'd thought of a different playby. He'd gone as a representative from the Ministry of Science twice previously before this, both as Anton Micassa, a Gaulasi native and Junior Representative of the Ministry of Science. Of course, there was no real Junior Representative Micassa, but Holt had found that it always came back to bite the person who relied to heavily on a single cover story. A straight thread made it quite more easy to unravel, and Holt meant to leave it as tangled as possible. But for now, his current cover would have to do; he just hoped that he'd get out of this wretched jungle alive.

Usually, on an information-collecting mission such as this, Holt would've assigned a Raven to accompany him; after all, it was the primary job of the Ravens to be the ones who went afar in the field, gathering information and reporting back to headquarters with what they'd found. But on a mission as perilous as this, Holt had made the wiser decision to opt for the more dangerous side of the Ministry; a Crow, skilled especially in assassination and death. In a Jungle that wanted to kill every organic being that set foot into it, Holt had reasoned that he'd want an advantage of his own, so he had assigned the Crow [member="Tess Valnora"] to accompany him.

The Crow was a Rookie by all standards, although the standard for the Ministry of Secrets was exceptionally high. In truth, Holt had no doubt of Valnora's skills in combat, stealth or assassination; he just had not yet witnessed them for himself. But nevertheless, he did expect that Valnora would be putting her best foot forward on this mission, not to impress Holt but to make sure that they left this accursed place still intact. To that measure, Holt had equipped himself quite well: his Roc-class stealth armor was concealed nicely over his jungle fatigues and long trench coat, with a long vibroblade attached to his left hip, a BAW-55 Heavy Blaster to his right, and a BCR-X19 Sniper Rifle slung over his shoulder. A satchel containing a multitude of vials and extractors hung mid-way down his thigh, and his face was concealed with a variety of camoflauging paints. Safe to say, the Rook was not taking chances with whatever was in that jungle.

 

[John Locke]

​

Location: Xagobah
Objective: Collect resources for further experimentation
Tagging: Open

If there was one thing you could say about droids, there was a relentlessness about their activity, an unstoppability that came with their motions across the the forest landscape. The rustle of leaves around mechanical limbs, the tramp of footsteps in the forest around him as the droids hurried after the animals inhabiting the forest. The man pressed his back up against a nearby tree, one hand slipping into his pocket to extract a tablet, dark eyes falling down to the screen as he watched the reports coming in, scrolling in front of him.

The droids had very specific orders, as they pursued the animals through the foliage, catch and release. All John was interested in was the genetic bluepring, a cheek swab, a sample of their blood work, enough for him to work with, to run through the lab. There was something here, some commonality, and that's all that he wanted to find. There was no reason to transport massive amounts of flora or fauna off planet, find storage and living space, food and care for them. That was more effort than he needed to take, and he didn't think the animals themselves would be too happy to be locked away n a facility somewhere.

The man let his hand fall to his side, eyes glancing up to the sky, the clouds flowing across the heavens like a painting that belonged in any gallery or museum. He'd spent so long in the city, in the labs and workshops that were the lifeblood of his buiness that he'd forgotten how beautiful and peaceful the countryside could be. Metallic fingers fell back, tapping against the trunk of the tree, a nonsense pattern that merger with the sound of animals and droids in the forest, an orchestra like no other, a melody to rival the best that the galaxy could hope to offer.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

LOCATION: Dense Forest
OBJECTIVE: Gather unknown organic matter for Chemistry experimentation.
TAGS: [member="Vytal Noctura"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"]



"Wait till you see what this baby does," Pom stated while turning to a console. She flicked a switch and the monitor depicted their exterior environment. She controlled a mechanical arm that held a camera lens. As she orchestrated the arm to reach into the plantlife, the visual zoom helped her pinpoint the exact area she wanted to cut her sample for collection.

There are a number of consoles for collection for the others to engage. "Now for the best part." Pom brought the arm back and the sample was placed into a small collection cylinder. A needle inserted and the plantlife data properties were determined and the specimen labeled and stored in cryogenic freeze. The vial was capped at slid snuggly into a long slot, inside a sterile enclosure. The collection arm was then cleansed with a sprayer for preparation to its reuse.

Pom reached out again, and her eyes widened as she fixated on the monitor. An orchid focussed into view which compared to a tiny replica of the famed Nightsisters' Sleeper. The orchid extremities matched in number, and it moved as if watching the collection arm, anticipating to battle the specimen collection process.

She felt awestruck by its beauty. Then the flower spit at the camera lens. "Taku yuwakape wicoha waste," she exclaimed. "What blessed miracle!"

 

[Luna Terrik]

​

Objective: Feed me – destroy the core
Time: 1515 Hours
Equipment: Personal Dauntless Armor, SC4 Blaster, Tactical Recon Handguns, XZ-77 “Buster” Comms Device
Post: 03
Tags: [member="Nyx N1X3"], @Allya Vi’Dreya, [member="GL3AM"]

​

Well this had gone downhill very quickly. Luna was practically helpless to watch as two of her newer members of Omega were dragged away from the rest of the group, down the corridor screaming bloody murder. It all happened so quickly that the commander barely had time to register what was going on and point her weapon in that direction before feeling their armor bump against her own as they were pulled away. Able to quickly train her weapon back on creeping vines, she let loose a stream of lasers at the base of the vine, cutting through it like butter. The piece of biology gave a few flops on the ground before lying still.

This left two more vines wiping their way in their path, which prompted the commander to quickly shout out an order through the comm systems, being, “shoot at the base of the vines! Cut through them quickly!” As soon as this order was given, the hallway lit up with the blaster fire of nine of the confederacy’s best soldiers, which left the vines absolutely shredded, practically steaming on the floor from the heat of the lasers that cut them up. When the horrifying botanical creations were left unmoving, Luna quickly pressed herself up against the wall and brought up her holocomputer on her wrist.

Tien crouch walked his up to beside his commander, training his blaster down the hallway, questioning her action while never looking away from where the vines might have come from. “Got a plan, commander?” Luna gave a silent nod to her companion, scrolling through various diagrams until she found what she was looking for. Tapping the computer brought up what looking to be a compus, pointing it’s way down the hallway. The commander slowly stood, beginning to jog in the direction that her holocomputer was pointing.

Knowing that the squad was going to follow behind her, and was probably wondering where they were going, Luna spoke through the comm once again. “Our resident Mandalorian adjunct was smart enough to install trackers in everyone’s armor. It only makes sense for this…plant to take our comrades to where it can digest them. Which would be near the core.” This was probably all the explanation they needed, and as the squad jogged, Luna could only hope that she was right. If not, those squad members would probably end up dead, and the core would be out of reach.

​

 

[Seren]

Location: Forests of Xagobah
Tag: [member="Willow Fae"], [member="Jenmae Ophiro"], [member="Pom Stych Tivé"], [member="Vytal Noctura"]
Action: Approaching the Mandragora

The roar of engines was all the signal that the Wolf needed.

In the time that the Wolf once called home, he and the Siren indeed indulged in riding speederbikes. What would become of Cularin - should their present machinations come to fruition - required expedient transit over the world's surface. And, while they could have easily stepped aboard a shuttle, Seren introduced Jenmae to repulsorcraft. For one who typically dressed in flowing robes and cloaks, it was always a small miracle that she was able to sit astride the vehicle. But, just as she had in the world they once knew - she did so again today.

She reminded Seren of that page in their history as she revved the engine of her speeder. However, there was a part of the Wolf who was still wondering if there were any pieces lost during her transition from past to future. She had not displayed any signs of such, and he did not doubt the level of sacrifice that the young Siren had displayed upon the alter that fateful evening. Yet, in his own experience, Seren recognized that there were gaps in his own memories. Blank spaces that were of no consequence - but existed all the same.

Nonetheless, in the moment, the Siren herself was situated. And shortly thereafter, the Spider joined her in readying up. Though Jenmae was vocal about it, Willow was a stark contrast. She regarded him with an obedient nod and her speeder roared to life beneath her. Satisfied, Seren paused only to take a whiff of the heavens. His senses briefly fought above the stench of nature, honing in on the presences of those who were foreign to the world. Their fellows: the Mandragora. It did not take long for the Wolf to pick up the trail and to lead them deeper into the wood.

As they road along, their speeders made mincemeat of the brush before them. Burning past with little obstacle until they neared the conclusion to the trail. In that moment, Seren raised his hand, alerting his companions to slow their pace to a halt. Meanwhile, he spoke over the Confederate channel, attempting to reach the Knights Obsidian they sought. "This is Knight Ophiro, what's our status?" he inquired. In truth, he expected little more than a duldrum response regarding spore hunting.

But things seldom went as expected nowadays.

 

[Maple Harte]

Maple crept through swampy jungle, still freaked out by the hallucination of The Amalgam. Her illness had progressed. Skip. The Red Ankarres shined a light into her soul. Skip. Back to normal. Or at least as normal as it could be.

Maple began to muse odd things as she went through murky wetlands. Maybe she only 'thought' she had brought her weapons and armor. She checked herself, testing, feeling out the weapon, and touched her arm to make sure she wasn't just running through a nasty, murky swamp naked. The Armor seemed to be real enough...but then again, how could she even be sure this was a swamp? Had she even flown the ship?

The ex-shadow suppressed her paranoia. It wouldn't do to start questioning everything, even if she did believe she actually had been pregant and about to give birth about ten minutes ago before the fething spider people had busted into the ship and taken it like they had with the previous fifty two attempts at having children. While in flight.

Maple spotted tracks, snapping her out of her delusion. Skip. Rewind a few steps. Fast Forward. Skip. Back to the tracks. Zadok didn't have a photo. There were no survivors. She came across mutilated body parts and nearly vomited. They were strewn about, almost like bread crumbs through the brush. She began to see candles in cleared patches of dirt that burned with a violet flame. Maple got out her staff as she entered a clearing where there rested an ancient stone obelisk of blackest marble. Maple saw him, meditating in a circle of the corpses of multiple Obsidian Knights, all wearing their distinct armor. He was clad in a gray shirt of armorweave, with black trousers and gray boots. Strapped to his back were two large, silvery double sided battle hatchets. Maple grew interested when she spotted a circular engraving in which musical notes were displayed on the axes.

The man himself had unnaturally gray skin, like rotted synthskin. He had no hair and as he stood to face her Maple took a step back. She recognized this one.

"Darth Persyyus..." Maple whispered as she stared at the part of his forehead where she had put a nine millimeter round through it years ago. He still had the scar.

"Uri Udinia..." the square jawed, broad browed man growled, staring sulphurous orbs at her.

"Guess your skull was a little thicker than I thought..." Maple said to him quietly. "Did you know I was going to be here?"

"No..." he admitted, drawing his axes, spinning them as though they weighed nothing. "I'm as surprised as you are..."

"What's some big bad Sith Marauder doing grunt assassination work for those Exchange Vultures?" Maple asked.

"Because grunt assassination work is all I'm good for these days, thanks to you." He answered with murderous calm.

Maple gestured to her forehead. "The bullet?"

"Cut off all sensation of pain." He answered. "It also damaged the part of my brain that can access the Force. Now I fight in a waking hell every day, trapped in a body that's rotting from a Dark Side I can't access."

Maple normally would have been flippant but the parallels in their respective situations made her stay quiet, regarding him with fascination and horror.

"You could stop the rot if you just give up The Darkness."

"I will not have my life dictated by the injuries you inflicted, Uri."

"Can't let go, huh?" Maple asked darkly. "So what do you hope to gain by coming here and engaging in these bloody rites when you will gain nothing from it?"

"This place is old...has old blood in the soil..." Zadok trailed. "This obelisk that you see before you is an antenna of sorts. It receives suffering. After The original incarnation of the CIS abandoned Xagobah it was undisturbed until this...cult found it. They corrupted it even further, used it to imbue and corrupt their members completely. Those who were Force Sensitive became stronger. Those who were not Force Sensitive--"

"Became Force Sensitive..." Maple finished. "Seems an awful waste, you being free of your chains and not realizing it. All this time, no longer part of the rat race, no reason to return. Could have retired. Would have been the smart thing to do."

"Look who's talking."

"I got a reason to stay. I got a witch that needs a bullet in the head just like you did. You were just in it for the blood letting."

"You speak to me of blood letting yet your goal in of itself requires the shedding of life. A Jedi hypocrite to the end.

"I'm no longer a Jedi."

"I'm no longer a Sith, and we're both still killing. Admit it. Neither one of us has changed."

"I plan to take you alive. I have a good reputation for bringing my bounties alive. Learning not to kill was my first and hardest lesson once I was out of my respective cult. You seriously never even thought about trying not to be such a bastard?"

Zadok looked down at his axes.

"People once feared to so much as whisper my name, lest it bring doom. My fleets darkened worlds. I ripped the riches from the hands of a thousand kings and queens. And all of that, all of that was ripped away by a nine millimeter round. A nine millimeter round fired by you." Zadok snarled. "I sank to lows I never thought I could sink to to stay alive..."

"You've murdered many Obsidian Knights. Surely you can't believe you will evade the forces of [member="Darth Metus"] forever, even should I be slain." Maple tried to reason. "Being free of titles isn't a fate worse than death. It actually rewarding. Freeing."

"I commanded fleets..." he repeated mindlessly, spinning his axes.

Maple sighed as he sprang towards her with a roar.

 

[Tess Valnora]

Locaion: Jungles of Xagobah​

Tags: [member="Holt"]​

​

“The Ministry was never short on missions that’s for sure.” Thought the Crow as she quietly walked behind Holt. The man had surprised her when she had been selected for the mission. A mission like this would be better suited for a squad of Ravens, but as the rumors had it the plants were alive and collecting the required samples was going to be dangerous. He primary job on this mission: keep Holt alive while he collected samples. Of course, the man looked and carried himself like he could handle most anything thrown at him, but everyone needed someone on their six in unfamiliar territory.

Tess kept her eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary as they walked along the jungle floor, moving vines, unnatural foliage movement, any hostile wildlife. Methodically patting different areas of her body where she concealed weaponry, she located her Phrik combat knife in her boot, her compact sub on her hip, and her shoto lightsaber on her belt. That was when she felt something hit her leg. Looking down she saw a small sort of weed recoiling as if like a serpent preparing to strike. She stopped to observe the plant, whose stalk was no thicker than her thumb, topped by two leaf-like mandibles. The plant looked like a Venus fly trap, but the cilia of the plant had curled in to look like pointy teeth.

The plant lunged forward again and latched onto her coat, biting into it like a snake. Not in much danger from the small plant, Tess knelt down and in a swift movement drew her knife from her boot and harvested the plant at the base of its stalk. Instantly the stalked curled up and writhed like a severed tentacle all while staying latched to her coat. Glancing around Tess realized Holt had made a small gap between them as if he hadn’t noticed her interactions with the strange plant life. Detaching the plant with her gloved hand she quickly and quietly made her way to the man and tapped him lightly on the shoulder after dislodging the specimen from its place on her coat. She wasn’t quite sure what to call him yet, and since he was her senior in probably every perspective she simply asked in a hushed voice, “Will we be heading for the living plant base? Or are we procuring specimens from anything we find?”

​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 8 Nozhi Blades | 2 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets |A MOTHERKRAKKING BLOWTORCH
Tags: [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Seren"] | + Feel free to join!

"Well," Scherezade answered Vytal's question, her eyes big and her excitement oozing out of her like that of a child, "Why not?"

There was little she could contribute to the conversation between the witches about something they had begun before she'd joined them in their vehicle. But when Vytal motioned to speak about going home… Scherezade grinned. Yes. It would be a wise idea for them to go visit Dathomir again, maybe a few times, as long as it still stood. There were plans in the work, motions that had been made. Dathomir's days were numbered. But they did not need to know that. The Hunt was not yet ready.

"Samples for the Ministry of Science," she answered, "and some sort of small pink flowers. I don't have a name for them, only a mental image."

Turning her attention to [member="Pom Stych Tivé"], Scherezade stared as the Witch showed what the vehicle was capable of on the monitors. Her eyes followed the motion of the arm, the tiny flower, and she blinked. This was what they were going to do? Sit in the big lump of metal and collect the samples that way?

As the incoming message came from [member="Seren"], Scherezade shrugged deicing to let the witches handle it. She had no clue who this Knight Ophiro was, though the last name did sound somewhat familiar, she couldn't place a finger to it. Either way though, while she often paraded around as one of the Knights, her job on the planet that day was for the Ministry of Secrets.

"Are we going to actually go into the wilderness?" she asked the witches, raising her eyebrows, "Don't get me wrong, the mechanical arm is cool and all of that, but I'm not gonna be able to just sit here while that thing does the work."

 

[Luna Terrik]

Objective: Feed me – destroy the core
Time: 1520 Hours
Equipment: Personal Dauntless Armor, SC4 Blaster, Tactical Recon Handguns, XZ-77 “Buster” Comms Device
Post: 04
Tags: [member="Nyx N1X3"], @Allya Vi’Dreya, [member="GL3AM"]

​

The base hadn’t been built to house thousands and thousands of soldiers, more along the lines of being a temporary FOB meant to house just a few hundred soldiers on short deployments. Because of this, the base wasn’t seemingly as big as some of the others Luna had had the joy of exploring during her time with the Confederacy. Though, that didn’t mean that it didn’t get confusing at times. Twisting corridors that led to caved in dead ins, or ones completely blocked by foliage. Some of those routes even seemed to be traps, being that as soon the squad was boxed in, more of those vines popped out of seemingly nowhere to attack them. Luna had lost another squadmate to one of these ambushes. They stopped only long enough to grab his dogtags, let those that were religious in the group say some sort of prayer, then move on, continuing to push toward their objective.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long after that for the squad to make it core, though now they had a new problem that blocked their path. Apparently one of the security measures for this base had been the security blast doors had closed tightly when the place went into lockdown. It would take a few minutes, at least, to cut a hole large enough for the men to step through. And from behind them, a darkened corridor only illuminated by the quick flashes of a light flickering in and out showed the subtle movements of the plants beginning to make their way toward them.

Luna took a single moment to look from the door, back down the corridor at the creeping vines, and finally back to her squad. Nodding toward it, the commander gave the order to start cutting through it. “Q’aria, copper. Get that thing cut open. You’ve got five minutes. Go.” As the pair of commandos sprung into action, she looked to the rest of the squad and gave the second part of her orders. “Everyone else, bunker down. Tien, get the E-web set up. Lets get our mobile barriers up as well.” With that, the squad began to make their movements according to her orders.

The E-Web was set up in the middle of the hallway, powerbox powered on and blaster ready to go. On either side of it, metal contraptions were raised, creating into a barrier between the squad and the vines that were beginning to crawl their way down the corridor. Two commandos took place behind the barriers while Tien was the man to man the heavy blaster. Luna stood in the middle of the two commandos taking down the security door and their little defensive emplacement, turning back and forth to watch the progress of the cutting and the defense. Hopefully they were able to cut through before the vines got too close.

​