Dominion Pt. 2 - Mistwalker | GA Dominion of Caamas

[Spirit of Unity]

[ Pt. 1 - Abaddon’s Gate ]
[ Pt. 1.5 - Licking Our Wounds ]

Abandon all hope,
ye who enters here...

Three months after the event at Brentaal IV. . .

[ MUSIC ]

CHAOS RISING
Pt. 2 - Mistwalker

A path revealed!

Dark forces ravage Brentaal IV and threaten to spread beyond. Left with no option but to retreat to the fortress world of Anaxes after a brutal first contact skirmish, the Core Alliance reached out to its closest ally, the Republic, to seek aid against this strange and unknown enemy.

With viable evidence to suggest this strange and terrifying army originated in a twisted plane of Chaos, experts from both governments began to scour the records of similar events from the past. Desperate, they hoped to find any information that could prove useful in the inevitable fights to come.

For many, the immense devastation brought by the Netherworld incident only two decades prior was still fresh in their minds. Although it was one of countless challenges faced in recent centuries, it was one of great pain and suffering, and it reshaped the Galaxy forever.

After many abandoned leads and failed experiments, a bold option presents itself: Deep beneath the toxic surface of Caamas a new gateway has inexplicably opened. Through it awaits an infinite battlefield, known in legend as the Field of Blades - a sinister place where the spirits of dark-hearted warriors are cursed to battle for all of eternity. Adventurers and scholars alike have tried to cross the bloodied plain in pursuit of legendary weapons, knowledge or the guidance of renowned warriors long dead. Most never return.

With few options available and time not on their side, the newly reconstituted Galactic Alliance has authorized a team to be dispatched through this gateway and into the Mists-Beyond. Any hope of finding a means to fight back against Abaddon and stop his unholy crusade now rests on the shoulders of the brave men, women and machines who answered the call...

or is it already too late?

----------
​

- Objective 1: Traveling across the Field of Blades will be an extremely dangerous endeavour. The wrathful spirits of dark warriors battle endlessly across these plains, and the presence of living souls will not go unnoticed. Defend the investigators and science team from danger to ensure the information the Alliance needs can be gathered.

- Objective 2: We must seek to understand our enemy. If the forces mounting in the Brentaal system do in fact hail from a plane of Chaos, we might be able to gain some insight here into how to fight back. Despite being damned, it is said that not all spirits on the battlefield are malicious. Scour the Field of Blades for items of interest and seek guidance from the dead. Their wisdom may prove valuable.

- Objective 3: As long as we hold the Rift open we run the risk of spirits crossing over into our world. Do not allow anything unnatural to exit the portal and escape, and keep an eye out for trouble, as word may have spread of our arrival and purpose on the planet.

 

[Leon Gallo]

Objectives: 1/2



Leon stood before the gate, looking between his companions. He recognized a few, having either fought alongside them before, or was introduced during the quiet moments in the past two months. He kept a tight grip on his saber to calm his nerves. He remembered the monsters he fought on Brentaal, and the enormous loss of life there. He had volunteered to help the expedition in the hopes that he might be able to find some way to prevent such a catastrophy from happening in the future, or to avenge those who had died. Another thought briefly popped into his head, but he pushed that away. What if they could bring back those who died? He knew it was impossible, and to try would only cause more suffering.


"I'm ready to go in whenever you all are."

 

[Din Marren]

Caamas // Subterranean Gateway
Objective 1
Republic Engineering Leon Gallo Allyson Locke

Behind the shroud of his expressionless helmet, Din's eyes stare widely at the tangled, asymmetric gateway that was towering before their team. His helmet's floodlights offered some respite from the darkness, mixing with the pulsating violet light emanating from the tear in their reality. This far beneath the toxic planet's crust, the layered echoes of the portal's energy surges drowned out most sound not transmitted over their commlinks.

Gathered together in a small huddle, the science team was busy with one last check of their equipment before committing to an entrance. The Corellian's had ensured that previous gateways were stable, but it was only natural to feel some sort of uncertainty when put face-to-face with a doorway to Hell.

It was a sight to behold.

Din had seen battle numerous times. He'd seen suffering, brutality and death. But to stand before something so... unnatural; dark. It unsettled even his jaded heart. When their orders came down from Naval Command that they'd be taking a plunge into the pits of Chaos he'd been dumbfounded. Until their transport had actually arrived in the Caamas system, a part of him still expected this to all be an elaborate joke. Looks like the joke was on him afterall.

<"I've got a bad feeling about this,"> Dare's voice broadcasts over the shared frequency of the team. He tosses a glance to his own CO, Null, then looks back to the younger Jedi Knight <"We're just waiting on confirmation from a forward scout.">

 

[Tris]

Objective 1
GA Tags: Din Marren Leon Gallo Republic Engineering Allyson Locke

KTF.

That was what they were always told. But could you really kill the dead? The answer was a little more complicated than it sounded, especially here. This was not her first time in the Field of Blades. She helped a group or two of CSB eggheads take dives in and get out. Those times they'd only gotten out by the skin of their teeth because they knew exactly where they were and where they were going as well as having a Jedi. Say what you wanted about the robe-wearing religious fanatics, but Jedi knew how to fight. Good. But this time she didn't have a Jedi. She was part of a Corellian forward scout team. A handful of Helljumpers from the Shocktrooper Corps and two other Halcyon like her.

Suffice to say, those Helljumpers weren't coming back. They'd jumped into Hell and Hell didn't want to give them back. It wasn't keeping the Halcyon though, even if they had to be dragged out of the gate by a chain. Incidentally, chains were all that was keeping Specialist Traynor's limp and bleeding from falling off of Gedri's back.

"Hang in there Traynor, we're almost there." A weak sounding groan floated over their closed HCom. She cursed under breath as her boots pounded on the strange surface, her boots and armor making heavy sounding thumps every time they landed in her sprint back to the gate. The wraiths of the Field of Blades had long since stopped chasing them, content to cut one another open than bother with the living and barely living. A few more steps and...A strange sensation washed over her as she made it through the gate.

"Medic!" she shouted, "I need a medic now!" She turned to look at the tear and frowned when Chaves didn't come out behind her. How could she have been so stupid? With Traynor not bleeding down her back anymore she was just about to turn around and go back in when the slightly taller Halcyon command stomped out of the tear, panting and gripping several dripping holotags.

"Got 'em" he wheezed over HCom. Gedri shook her head exasperatedly and turned to the mostly white-clad GA marine.

"They're waiting for your report," came the voice of a GA marine, her voice modulated by the bucket on her head. With a sigh, she began walking towards the group waiting to go in. Waiting to die.

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok stood near the members of the science team. He was classified as an investigator, but the scientists seemed to have the best guards.

Beside him, clad from head to toe in a child-sized suit of armor, was Miri. Her head was covered by a helmet with a black visor that hid her face. Useful, considering that he had bullshitted her into the operation by claiming she was his dwarf assistant.

He had tried to find a babysitter, honestly, but Miri herself had fought against it. She refused to be separated from Nimdok, throwing violent tantrums at the mere idea. A tantrum from a child with such a strong connection to the Force was not something that could be dealt with simply by putting her in time-out or depriving her of toys.

So even though the forward scouts came back from their sojourn in Chaos covered in blood, carrying the tags of their fallen comrades and screaming for medics, Nimdok was bringing a six year old with him into the carnage.

Brilliant.

Ironically, she was more useful in a fight than he was.

Leon Gallo Din Marren Gedri Fehen Allyson Locke

 

[Allyson Locke]

Footsteps crept along the ground; the lone scout had gone out ahead to face whatever was lingering the darkness. She was probably the last person to have entered this valley, her past filled with ghosts of the past. Allyson had gotten her hands dirty with assassinations for the Alliance of old; she had protected and lost allies. Everyone, even those she loved, had the potential of being manifested. Tiptoeing, her power armor remained in low power, allowing her to continue the best she could undetected.​

Allyson Locke, with all of her ghosts, kept her mind empty. The Dark spirits that lingered could use painful memories to manifest and overwhelm those that ventured too far. The contact lenses she wore quickly snapped pictures of the region and were sent back to Din Marren . No one is here; no one is here; no one you know is here. Allyson kept the mantra repeating over and over again as she heard the sing-song voice of a certain Kiribian. Exhaling, Allyson decided it was time to return towards the group. She had ventured as far as her sanity would allow her to.​

Retracing her footsteps, she continued quickly back towards the group waiting for her. Not taking long, she finally made it towards where the group of investigators and scientists were waiting. She had heard over the coms the fate of the Helljumpers. Allyson had moved out with them but decided to map out a more significant route for the following group.​

Removing her helmet, she reported to Din and nodded. "You hear what happened over comms? We need to remember that if we see them - we have to be cautious." Pausing, she waited for confirmation on the photos.​

"I found a safe path to the target area. It's not pretty out there we should move quickly. I'll remain in the front, have we gotten a briefing from the rest of the forward team?"​

Leon Gallo Gedri Fehen Jacen Nimdok

 

[sebastian56]

master jin lands in the planet with an arc 107 and preapares for a battle and approaches the team

and said, "hello there, what did I miss?"

 

[Gala Geert]

Objective 1 // Caamas // Field of Blades
Armoured
Din Marren // Gedri Fehen // Allyson Locke // S sebastian56 ​

One, then two reappeared through the portal. More than two had gone in.

These odds were not favourable.

Gala stood up from her crouch and sheathed her blade. It was completely clean - untouched by action. It was more a force of habit than anything. A listless glance passed toward the new arrival, just before she pulled the armour's helmet over her head. The voice modulator affected any level of bitterness in her voice. Impatience drained her, and most Force users - whether or not their glowsticks were out or not - traipsed dangerously on that thin tolerance. Despite the chippy salutations, the Jedi Master was met with less enthusiasm from the mirialan. Just who she was.

<Almost everything. Except the report, lucky you.>

Supposedly that'd be delivered by the surviving Zabrack.

 

[Zavier Octavious Delane]

Caamas - Field of Blades
Tags // S sebastian56 Republic Engineering Din Marren Allyson Locke Gedri Fehen
​

The former Imperial Marshal turned Republic General turned Alliance Gdoudn Commander (he hadn't exactly worked out his actual rank with the Alliance yet) was calmly watching the soilders assigned to the Alliance Special Task Force. Interesting was the only thought that came to mind.

"Ahem" he cleared his throat to catch the attention of the team. "Can we begin?"

 

[Din Marren]

Caamas // Subterranean Gateway
Objective 1

Spoiler: Tags

Gala Geert
Jacen Nimdok
Leon Gallo
Allyson Locke
Gedri Fehen
Zavier Octavious Delane
Vaulkhar
Taresa Kae
Emperor Immortuos
Ashin Cardé Varanin
Credius

The commando grimaces under the T-visor as he looks over the images from the other side. Many were inexplicably distorted, but the haunting shapes of warrior wraiths could still be made out with enough effort. From behind the soft blue glow of his helmet, Din looks between the Jedi Master and Halycon Commando who had both, somehow, managed to survive their scouting trips.

<"Alright, we can use this,"> he nods, his uncertainty tucked to the back of his mind as best as possible. He wanted to ask if they were okay or what exactly had happened to the others, but he knew all too well it wasn't the right time. Instead, he turns to gesture for the teams to gather around their position. Something felt off about him giving the briefing for something like this. He'd anticipated his squad leader to be here, Null, but Coruscant had dug its claws into him after Unity Day. Apparently the brass needed him around for a few extra days -- briefings for their fast approaching deployment to the Sith-Imperial front, likely.

He sighs, but the sound fails to register in his annunciator for others to hear. <"Looks like the target location is some sort of fortress structure,"> images he had received transmit from his internal HUD to the displays and datapads of the rest of them. In the distances of several of the pic-caps, the warped shape of a crumbling stronghold of blackened stone can be seen. <"Now, it's a bit of a hike once we step through this gate, so stay alert and keep a perimeter around the science team. Both Master Locke and Halycon Fehen here have confirmed that the reports weren't kidding around; things get real messy on the other side.">

Several more images transfer over; blurred camera stills of blade wielding shadow dashing toward the team members who hadn't made it, and one of several silhouettes standing in the sand, watching their group from a distance.

<"Once we reach that structure,"> he catches himself nearly saying if before it's too late, <"we're looking for some sort of artifact weapon. Or, rather, a fragment of it. A blade. To keep it short: SIA and the lorekeepers at the Coruscanti Temple believe that this artifact could be here, and that it could help us reclaim Brentaal IV.">

<"You see anything, you report it. You have questions, ask them,"> ending the open data transmission, Dare checks over his weapon one last time while stepping up to the vortex. Tendrils of violet energy reach out for him as he gets close, licking at his armour and coiling weightlessly around his arms and legs. He swallows, fighting back the nerves that were quickly rising -- the Mist was hungry for them, it seemed.

<"See you on the other side.">

 

[Leon Gallo]

objective: 1 / 2

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Leon was about as prepared as he thought he could be. He listened closely as the leader of their group, Din Marren , explained the situation one last time. Once they entered, each one of them had a significant chance of not coming back out. The scout group had been torn apart in there, considering how few came out. Leon grimaced, thinking about what else could go wrong. He was one of two Jedi. The other seemed to be far more experienced than him, but that didn't help calm his nerves. He needed to be ready to face the spirits in the Field.

Could he even fight them? could they be harmed by his saber? If not, could he rely on his meager skills with the force to fight them off? So many doubts plagued the padawan's mind. He shuddered at the thoughts of what could go wrong. To calm himself, he thought of why he was there. He needed to save Brentaal. Not just Brentaal, but any other world where this could happen.

"Good luck, all of you. Let's get this done. quick."

The less time they spend in there the better. Leon activated his Saber and stepped through. It was warm, warm and bright. The ground beneath his feet gave way to sand loosely covering rock. He looked around, scanning the area for any immediate threats. Once the others were all through, they could continue on.


Jacen Nimdok Gala Geert Zavier Octavious Delane Allyson Locke

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

The first of the soldiers and the first of the Jedi entered the portal. From there, everyone began to march in single file with all the organization of military personnel. Nimdok resisted the urge to pick Miri up and carry her through, just to be on the safe side, and felt relief when the girl clambered through unassisted. He was quick to follow her.

They found themselves on scorched sands, miles of desert stretching out as far as the eye could see beneath a fiery sky. Nimdok exhaled, glad he was clad in a controlled, armored suit rather than his usual monklike robes.

Speaking of the suit, the helmet was flashing text and images associated with the scouts’ report. The Field of Blades; the Father, Son, and Daughter; Abeloth and the Dagger of Mortis...

“Yes, yes, I know all about the Dagger of Mortis,” he muttered, swatting the digital bubbles away. Of course, no one knew all about the Dagger of Mortis; it was a legendary relic of uncertain origin, with a history as varied and inconsistent as… well, as the history of one of its most famous pursuers, Luke Skywalker. That is, if the stories of Luke Skywalker pursuing the dagger in the first place held any truth at all… It was a dark and uncertain time in history, okay? People were more concerned about not dying back then than they were about accurately documenting events.

Either way, anything in connection with the stupid thing mentioned wild visions and being confronted by one’s own demons. Lovely. They were certainly in for a wild ride.

Standing as close to Miri as he could without touching her, he looked at the soldiers around him. They were all that stood between him and his kid and whatever threats this place held. He ought to be reassured, but he wasn’t. The image of a meat grinder came to mind… or perhaps a paper shredder was more appropriate, since it seemed this new reality they had walked into was quite distorted.

Leon Gallo Din Marren Gala Geert Zavier Octavious Delane Allyson Locke

 

[Tris]

By the Force, what was it with these Basics and their theatrics? That was what the Halcyon called their non-augmented counterparts in every military. Halcyon command had told them that they needed to stop using the term. Something about lowered moral but she'd not been in a single engagement where the sheer presence of a Halcyon commando didn't make spirits soar. Halcyon Commandos didn't die and they KTF'd, oftentimes so quickly the Basics didn't need to fire a single round. These Commandos too were thus Basics in her eyes. Sure they had high-end armor not dissimilar to her own, though she knew for a fact that her armor could take more than a few particle bolts before it took her down, but they didn't have the mods. Oh no, they did not have the mods.

And so, he was a Basic too. Just like the rest of them.

He slapped the man on the back, shoving him through the portal.

"Let's go, those wraiths aren't gonna wait forever." The tear swallowed him up with a ghastly howling slurppish sound straight out of a horror holo. The purple energy laced her armor and she wrenched it away, looking at her hand as if it had just been pulled from a pile of Bantha dung.

She pointed at the pointy-eared scientist that had what was OBVIOUSLY a little girl clinging to him, then the little girl. "Yeah, I don't know what regs the ALLIANCE has on KIDS, but when we got deployed here I was told this was a Halcyon Op once we got in the portal. I ain't taking no kid with me. She stays." She took a step into the portal but turned around to look the man dead in the eye, though he couldn't see her's with the big bug-eyed helmet she wore. "And if I see her when you come through this portal I'm putting a blaster bolt in your head sicko." And she jumped through.

Jacen Nimdok Leon Gallo Din Marren Gala Geert Zavier Octavious Delane Allyson Locke

 

[Gala Geert]

"I'll stay with the kid." Gala volunteered, stepping forward to gimme hands at Jacen Nimdok . As much as she hated children, she hated people taking their sweet time to getting things done even more.

"You go. Someone's gotta make sure it's just you guys coming back through that portal."

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Objective 1 // Caamas // Field of Blades
Allyson Locke // Amea Virou // Maynard Treicolt // Leon Gallo // Gedri Fehen // Jacen Nimdok // Din Marren ​

You know what was great about a cockpit? Controls. The complete control over whatever was about to happen -- and there was a level of protection that came with the steel and glasteel. Even if it usually shattered inward and it was really just a death machine, the vulnerability somehow felt less.

With Allyson and the Halcyon group's reports in, she gave a breath to steady herself. A subconscious hand squeeze was offered to the Jedi Knight at her side, before the trio started walking to where everyone disappeared.

"Y'know, I completely understand if you never answer my calls again." Loske admitted slowly, the trepidatious maw of the unknown stretched before them and she turned to look at her recently recovered friend with a waning smile of what was supposed to be encouragement. Or jest. Everyone here was incredibly mortal, no matter how much armour they donned. If anything, those who were a little more unnatural than others were on protection detail while others scouted for the object that would apparently help with their salvation. Or at least The Core's. Theirs was entirely dependent on reemerging from the bowels of this nether region.

"Appreciate you coming.'

Maybe it was the heaviness of the commando's delivery that was getting to her. She'd been in this hell before and survived. She just really hoped she didn't vomit this time when they entered.

She stepped forward to the orphic tear in reality, pausing only where a decision seemed to be necessary. After the commandos, the scientists poured in. Then an interaction about kids, and she was relieved someone stepped in to end it almost as quickly as the threats came. Thrusting a youth into the horrors of the dead was not something anyone could rightly support.

Without further ceremony, Loske stepped through the purple energy leak. It immediately gathered about her, the temperature dropping several noticeable degrees. She'd meant to have a seamless step-through, but the portal had other ideas. On the other side, her stomach wretched with the unnaturalness of everything, her cheeks feeling that hollow sensation right before nausea reached its apex.

That temperature changed again, like someone had exhaled a gentle breeze to change it around and she felt uncomfortably warm.

 

[The Hound]

It had started with the scent of the living. But not only the living but those who could not touch, could not feel her embrace as he once did. He knew somewhere past the veil of the planes of Chaos and the Netherworld his physical body withered away beneath a prison of stone, cursed to be so until she called for him again. Until then he was free to hunt those that would enter the Field of Blades. Many lost souls found themselves here and all of them could fight and found enjoyment of the slaying of their enemies personally. The Field of Blades was a barren, dusty waste. Misted blood and the smell of ozone and burning flesh filled the air. It was an eternal battleground for the worthy and the damned.

Black tentacles of thorn writhed about his black mass. The once-proud orange mane of the Hound of Vahl lay in disarray about his skeletal horned head. He shifted and looked to the thundering orange skies as he felt the tear made by that being open and he quivered, pausing the mutilation he had been in the process of. They all did. Wraith after wraith paused their battle, sometimes to their own bloody end and sudden rebirth, to listen to what came on the wind. But only a moment. For in the Field of Blades there was but one thing to do.

Rip and tear until it was done.

And it was never done here.

 

[Credius]

Spoiler: Tags

The Hound
Emperor Immortuos
Spirit of Unity
Gala Geert
Loske Treicolt
Gedri Fehen
Leon Gallo
Din Marren
Jacen Nimdok
Allyson Locke
Zavier Octavious Delane

Field of Blades - Epicenter
Equipment: [X] [X] [X] [X] [X]

Death, dispair, chaos at its finest, it swirled around him, beckoned him, drew him nearer with every breath he took. Every time the thin air escaped through the rebreather in his mask, his hood seemed to flutter, his eyes darting from one point to another upon the fields. Even with his force signature masked and muddled, his very own lifeforce corrupted and misshapen due to his own mutations, the man who was calmly meditating at this center of abundant and unbridled chaos still had to keep an eye out for those among the spirits that could actually see through the many veils and guises which maintained his presence within the void of the nether.

The echoes of slaughter, the cries for mercy, the very announcement of life was as dangerous here as anywhere else within the endless void of the netherrealm, but here, there was the added bonus, or perhaps in most views it was a detriment, of the necessity of not just a strong mind, but a physical strength as well. This was the place of war, the center of bloodlust and butchery within the netherrealm, where the strong want to battle, where the weak perish without notice and where the will to dominate reigns supreme. Yet, despite all of the qualifications he might've had, the man at the center of it all, was simply meditating in relative peace, completely ignoring the chaos around him, deciding that the very turmoil he already dealt with on a daily basis far outweighed this menagery of souls and their discomfort.

However, as time passed, even he could not remain oblivious to the shifts within the Field of blades, as more and more of the roaming spirits seemed to be disturbed, wandering to some points on the field on mass and with increasing vigor and hatred swelling up within them. "What foul misery should fall upon those that disturb my peace?" The manclosed his eyes, shifting his senses, slowly scanning the surrounding area, trying to figure out what had gotten these sould to become so agitated, so alarmed and unruly. Opening his eyes yet again, the man's veils and protective meassures dropped for a moment, sinister red eyes with slit pupils peering from behind the mask he was wearing, his sickening force aura spreading out, consuming several unlucky spirits and ghosts from times past as he rose to his feet, a deep, all encompassing shadow slithering around him as a voice arose from the jewel he carried. "Greed consumes the minds of those too weak to find a path of their own, such a pity."

Scoffing at these words, the masked man moved onwards, towards the source, where the living seemed to be gathering and the death seemed to seek solace or to slake their thirst for blood. "The laws of the Nether are simple: you either are strong or you are weak...you live or you die, but never die truly and never peacefully."

 

[Jyoti Nooran]

Objective 3 - Secure Contain Protect

As a Shadow, her primary duty was to banish all dark things from the realm of the living. So naturally, she felt most comfortable remaining behind, acting as a sentinel against any eldritch beings that may pass through the rift.

Not may, but would.

It was only a matter of time in the mind of the paranoid Echani. Even from her current position, she could feel a pressure against her mind, the source emanating from beyond. For now, it was slight, but seemed to be growing. The recon team couldn't tarry in their task. Every moment they remained the netherworld equaled another moment of deadly attraction.

She made the best of her time in waiting, helping her River Jedi cohorts and Alliance troops dig in with the establishment of barricades and foxholes. Behind the barricades were force field projectors, primed to contain breaches. Kilometers away from the closest entrenched positions, Bengal tanks glided into position, training their sights on ground zero. Above, Dragoons flittered about in low orbits with all manner of launcher and machine guns. This was Great River's contribution to the containment effort, supplementing whatever the Alliance and Jedi Order had brought to the scene.

Hopefully such precautions would be enough, but after all, who could really prepare for Chaos?

Spoiler

Spirit of Unity Allyson Locke Leon Gallo Din Marren Jacen Nimdok Credius The Hound Loske Treicolt Gala Geert Gedri Fehen

 

[Amea Virou]

M I S T W A L K E R

The groaning whistles of hell echoed around them as the muted, almost silent shrieks of the damned clawed their way through the entrance to what was undoubtedly something very different from what Amea had expected Loske to need help with. Her teeth dug into the skin of her lower lip to give it a gentle tug. There was no mistaking that Amea wasn’t particularly fond of what they were staring down, but she also wasn’t someone who would go back on her word. At least not to a friend, and in this moment Loske had to count herself lucky that she still qualified.

“I better have the High Chancellor himself, planting his own two lips square on my ass after we’re done here, Loske.” Amea said, her voice tinned beneath the helmet that had been provided for her. She gave the pump-action scattergun in her hands another thorough lookover. Her brows visibly furrowed behind the clear blue visor as she did her best to stifle what remained of her fear and anger. The brief had been clear about the need for calm, and Amea was if nothing else, far more aware of her own mortality since she had lost her hand.

The calm would be there.

They stepped through the portal to seal their fates. Amea’s eyes set upon the Field of Blades, overcome with an unexpected stir beneath her skin. The slight dizziness and nausea that beset her proved easy to push through as her cramped up with a firm grip around the sawn-off shotgun in her hands.

“Anyone else feel that?” She asked over her shoulders at her two companions as she raised the gun in her hand. “We’re being watched.”

T A G S

Loske Treicolt
Maynard Treicolt
Allyson Locke
Leon Gallo
Gedri Fehen
Jacen Nimdok
Din Marren
The Hound

S T U F F

Strike Team Armor

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

He wasn’t in the Netherworld long before he was unexpectedly yanked back into the world of the living. A female Zabrak, one of the scouts from earlier, began scolding him for attempting to bring an obvious child into the highly dangerous afterlife. He hardly paid attention to her, his gaze drawn to the sight of Miri being similarly pulled back through the portal and her helmet removed to reveal that she was, indeed, only a frightened little girl.

Amid all this, Nimdok was more sharply aware of the eyes upon him than anything else. The soldiers around him, many of their gazes obscured behind helmets, nonetheless exuded horror and disgust. What kind of creep, as the Zabrak called him, would bring a kid with him into hell? What stunt was he trying to pull here?

Then there were the eyes of Miri herself, wide with panic. He felt her reaching, grasping at him mentally and physically, pleading with him not to leave her here in the company of strangers. Begging him not to go in there, where it was big and dark and scary.

A Mirialan woman stepped forward, stating that she would stay with the girl. There was no arguing with them. They would not accept the possibility (the certainty?) of child endangerment on their watch. Nimdok flinched, expecting another childish tantrum that would complete the humiliating scene. But instead of screaming, kicking, chaotic telekinesis and headaches for everyone, Miri just started to cry. His own helplessness was mirrored in her, the notion of being outnumbered and powerless imprinted on her mind.

Nimdok, as he was now, was wholly unprepared to deal with the child on an emotional level. He would be when he reemerged, but that was several hours away yet.

For now, the closest thing he could offer to reassure her was an uncertain, “I will be back soon. Stay here and wait for me.”

He looked up at the Mirialan who had offered to watch her, wondering if she could handle a brat with such volatile powers, and was struck with the notion (for whatever reason—something about her face?) that the green-skinned dame didn’t actually like kids. Maybe that would work to her advantage in this case.

"Uh... thanks." It was the most awkward expression of gratitude he'd ever uttered.

The clock was ticking. Without further ado, he stepped back through the portal.

Rather than standing with the other scientists and investigators—most of whom had seen and heard what happened and now either wouldn't look at him or were glaring at him like he was the galaxy’s biggest bastard—he stood slightly off to the side. An eyebrow raised beneath his helmet as he began modifying his plans.

Initially, he had intended to follow along with the others, sticking close to the protection offered by their armed escort. Now that he had become a pariah among his peers (one of whom he thought he recognized—was that Amea Virou, the same young woman he had met in a bar on Tatooine almost a year ago? What a time to encounter her again...) and no longer had a child to worry about, he didn’t need to stick around. In fact, he would be better off if he went his own way.

He didn’t separate from the main group immediately, as that would cast even more suspicion upon him. No, he would wait until the battle arrived, and then he would slip away unnoticed, unseen, unaccounted for.

Amea Virou Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Allyson Locke Leon Gallo Gedri Fehen Din Marren Credius