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Techno-Beasts on Zeltros

Soliael stood on top of a small spire belonging to a large casino here, he watched the street below with hazy orange eyes his vision flickering in and out as the black specs crossed his iris' and pupils. He watched the hustle and bustle of activity, a slight smile on his face as though he knew something that no one else did. Zeltron was a world of pleasure, of fun, and chaotic ecstasy. This world was created for the fun of it, for enjoyment, and he was about to ruin it all.

Down in an alley between the casino and another nightclub was a shambling silhouette, a seemingly living man that walked as though it were a corpse. The silhouette seemed to move with purpose, as though it were driven by an outward force.

Quickly it shambled forward, until it reached a crowd of people. Suddenly a scream pierced the skies of Zeltron, and a loud slashing noise could be heard as a blade bit into flesh. Another guttural noise escaped the streets below, and Soliael grinned beneath his mask. It had now begun, The Techno-Virus would begin to spread all over Zeltron, from victim to victim it would jump creating more and more techno-beasts. It was essentially a Zombie outbreak, though far harsher. The Techno-beasts were far more violent, and far harder to kill than the average zombie.

The woman who had been killed by the first Techno-beast began to rise, her skin already shriveled over by faint signs of metal. The two techno-beasts rose and began to attack more in the crowd. The Virus began to spread, one person to the next.

Before anyone could even do anything hundreds were infected, all it took was a nick, the tiniest cut.

All the while Soliael grinned, the test had begun.
 
It's Real to Pretend
Writer
Ah, Zeltros.

Many a day had Circe traveled to this planet on her shuttle, enjoying the sights and sounds of this paradise-like world. She had always enjoyed visiting Hologram Fun World, as well as the various cafarel who littered the largest red district on the planet. Unfortunately, today was evidently not the right kind of day for that, as the screams of persons being converted into technobeasts revealed. Being completely organic, the thought of an infection capable of turning the entire population of Zeltrons into droids - and of converting her own plant matter into technomatter - greatly unsettled her, and she desired to deal with this situation the easiest way she could.

"Get me the Subach demonstration carrier. I want it here as soon as possible with our demonstrators on board. Oh, and bring every electrical weapon you can find. We have a droid outbreak." She put on the armor she had taken from Yvorre, perfectly dull in color. "Particularly techno-bestial."
 
Soliael sat on his perch high above the ground of Zeltros. He smiled slightly, a small journal open in his left hand and a pen in his right. The Sith Lord seemed to be scribbling notes in the small book, and he watched with delight as his Techno-beasts began to swarm all around the streets. Their number had quickly increased, from one to dozens and from dozens to hundreds. The crowds of Zeltron, humans, and aliens had quickly become less and less organic and more cybernetic. It had only taken three hours, and thousands of Techno-beasts now ran the street.

In this particular section of Zeltros the Techno-beasts now reigned supreme. The authorities of Zeltros had cordoned off the area, cutting the ten square miles off from the rest of the planet. This place was no akin to what some might called a Zombie apocalypse. Thousands of residents were trapped in Hotels, nightclubs, brothels, and whatever else was here.

On the streets Techno-beasts lurched from building to building, trying to get at whatever remaining organic material was near.

Soliael simply watched it all with extreme interest, his nearly blind eyes focusing in on specific patches of the inorganic spawn and watching their movements. He recorded it all in his journal, watching and seeing how they acted, what they did and how they did it. These beasts had no minds of their own, no memories of what they once were, no recollection of the once prideful beings they had been.

They were the first step, nothing more. Soliael watched them, scribbling away in his notebook.
 
It's Real to Pretend
Writer
"This is the Corusca. We're on the premises with the demonstrative fighters and whatever EMP materiel we could bring. The Zeltros military is working on bringing some of their fighters into play as well. The infestation appears to be contained."

"Alright then, Corusca. Please send a wing of Detrituses in with as many ion bombs as you can cram in them. Ion torpedoes, ion bombs... It really doesn't matter. Send all our stuff in to deal with these droids." Stepping into her shuttle, the Darksider smiled, taking whatever little ion and electrical ordinance she had and standing in the partially-open loading bay. She had a triplicate of ion grenades that she quickly armed and dropped onto the technobeast horde... And the resulting pulse permanently deactivated between twenty-four to thirty of the thousands of technobeasts below.

"God, I hope that air support gets here soon."
 
Soliael continued to write in his little black book, a smile crossed his face as he saw the flare of ion weapons from his vantage point. Combat was an excellent sign. The Zeltros police were beginning to fight back now, excellent news. Of course Techno-beasts were quite infectious. All it took was one little nick, one little tiny cut, and the virus would worm its way into ones body. It moved quickly, within seconds it gave the victim a full frontal lobotomy...unless of course you knew how to stop it.

Such a thing however was unknown to nearly 99.99% of the galaxy, only half a dozen people could stop it, and Soliael was one of them.

The Virus itself worked quite simply, its only goal was replication, and it did so very quickly. When the techno-beast the virus inhabited was killed, the Virus would immediately go inert and disappear giving absolutely no time to study it. There was a reason that the techno-beasts were so feared, they were the perfect weapon.

Soliael smiled slightly, scribbling another note as he saw a flash of ion. He wondered if the outbreak here would continue, or if it would be curbed. Such a thing was unknown to him, this was all just an experiment. A way to find out the limits of the most basic techno-beast, and to see if he could...twist them further. His eyes narrowed slightly as a massive swarm of techno-beast's began to gather, all of them wandered towards the ion flashes, all of them headed straight for @[member="Circe Savan"].

There was so much more to learn.
 
It's Real to Pretend
Writer
"Miss Savan, this is the Zeltros Police Commander. We have good news and bad news."

"Alright. What's the good news?" She sighed, firing off potshots from an ion rifle at the technobeasts below. It was a good thing she was inside a shuttle, floating over the horde. If these were the exact same creatures Belia Darzu once worked with, they neither had jetpacks nor ranged weapons of any sort. For the time being, she was safe.

"Well, remember those Electromagnetic Torpedoes? You know, like the one the Republic used in the Zillo Beast incident? We found one in usable condition. With it, we can ionize every technobeast in the area."

"And the bad news?" She sighed, knowing there had to be a hitch.

"Well, we kind of don't have the arming code for it. We're currently searching our databases for records on this weapon to see if we have it archived anywhere. That'll take some time."

"Assuming your space defenses will allow my carrier through, I believe we can deal with this threat quite nicely." She ended her communication with the police commander. "Bombers, launch from your position and make a run on the town with your ion bombs. We don't have that much of a supply, so let's try and consolidate our ammunition usage before we have to go to more conventional proton ordinance that could inflict other casualties."

The loud hum of a Detritus bomber wing resonated over the area as the pilots made their run over the city, dropping ion bomb after ion bomb onto the horde of technobeasts. Dozens were deactivated by the first run as they turned around, beginning their second. Most of the technobeasts appeared to be disabled, but there was still the worry of a containment breach.

"Who did this..." If only she knew that @[member="Soliael Devin Talith"] was responsible. Or was he?
 
Soliael watched the bombers come in, dozens of techno-beasts were down in an instant. He scribbled in his notebook, putting down the obvious weakness that the techno-beasts contained. Ion weapons worked too well against the creatures, he would have to rectify that. He frowned slightly, and wrote another line in his book, making a note of the time of the bombings.

Most of the techno-beasts were not wiped out. Ion bombing runs of the entire city sector had seen to that. Of course that didn't mean that all of them were gone, more likely than not there were a few dozen left wandering the streets, or caught in basements, or stuck in a wall somewhere. It would take quite the effort to dig them all out, something that Soliael had known would happen.

There was a chance that another outbreak on Zeltros would happen. This one had been short, and contained quite well. He wondered who had been in charge of the quarantine, and what they would do to flush out the rest of the techno-beasts.

The rest could not be done from starships or bombers, one had to get up close and personal in every crevice and niche. Finding the remaining techno-beasts would be difficult, eliminating them without receiving a single scratch even more so. All it would take was one miss-step, one arm reaching too far, one little accident and the outbreak would start all over again.

That was what made the techno-beasts so brilliant. Soliael let out a sigh, and then finally closed the little black book. Placing the journal in his pocket he began to descend from his perch.
@[member="Circe Savan"]
 
It's Real to Pretend
Writer
"Ah, there we are. We've found the code for the torpedo and are currently bringing it to your location now. It's explosive radius should be more than enough to ionize every last technobeast in the dead zone. We'll have to pay millions, if not billions of credits in reparation, but the elimination of this threat should be worth it."

"Understood, commander. Do hurry... I'm spying your boys at the west end, and they don't seem to be doing that well." She sighed, the shuttle moving away from the blast zone. A Dragoon-class dropship, likely purchased from Imperial surplus stocks, was slowly moving into the area, its payload visibly strapped below. "Torpedo armed... Ready to launch." And it was released, slowly descending down, down...

And detonating. A sphere-like wave of torpentuous ion energy radiated from the detonation site, running over the devastated landscape. Penetrating in every crack and crevice, the remaining technobeasts of this infestation would finally be disabled, reduced to nothing more than lifeless husks of metal, some beginning to rot with the little organic flesh that remained on their bodies. The Zeltros government would keep several of the dead Sithspawn for study, though as the virus was destroyed, they would only be able to study the effects, not the cause. The rest would be unceremoniously smelted, the melting pots at a nearby factory smelling for weeks like human flesh from the remnants that would be burned off.

And through it, Circe would be unknowing as to what she had successfully stopped. She had no clue as to what the Moross Crusade was, that a member had been involved here, not even knowing it existed. As her shuttle exited the area, on its way elsewhere, she pondered the identity of the Sith who had nearly started a massive plague across the entire planet.

She hoped they weren't Sith.

@[member="Soliael Devin Talith"]
 
When the ion bomb hit Soliael stood in the center of one of the many streets on Zeltros. Even though the nature of the weapon didnt harm him, the effects of it still struck him quite powerfully. A shockwave rushed through the streets and over and through the buildings. It hit Soliael with force.and knocked him back, ruffling his clothes.

He smirked slightly as he realized the cause of the shockwave, knowing what had just happened. Whoever had commanded this little venture had taken the smart....albeit far more expensice option. The techno beasts would be finished, but so would all electronics in a 10 mile radius.

The Sith however didnt care much, he had accomplished his goal. With a continued smirk Soliael took out his little black book. He scribbled one last note into it and then sealed it shut, beginning to Whistle as he walked through the pile of deformed corpses.
 

Aleidis Zrgaat

Young soul from an older generation.
Character
There were healers who could bring dying men back from the very verge of death amidst a hail of blaster fire. There were healers who could turn any virus in on itself, given time and equipment. There were healers who were capable of guiding the rehabilitation of nearly any injury. And then there was Aleidis Ijet.

Quite simply, none of the above.

Her expertise, contrary to what her ambitions might suggest, had always been on small, minute things. A mastery of an esoteric power combined with immense focus gave her something of a limited skillset, as a physician. A skillset she'd had to supplement with mundane medical knowledge. This approach had always given her mixed results, but that didn't matter right now. This was something she could do.

"Keep her down, for your own sake." The Ghostling barked, gesturing at some muscle press-ganged into helping her with an autopsy in a remote alleyway. An ion explosion seemed to have incapacitated the techno-beasts, but she'd find out all she could from the corpses. "If it gets back up, we're all done for. So keep your grip firm." Aleidis Ijet insisted.

The burly Sullustan swallowed hard, sweating, but nodded his understanding. The girl he held down couldn't be more than ten years old, her pale skin puckered around joints of organic metal, wrinkled where alloy and wire had replaced muscle and tendon. The poor thing's face was drawn to a hideous sneer, revealing metallic, pointed teeth stained with blood and gore. How much of it was her own eviscerated gums and cheeks was anyone's guess - but Aleidis put her money that not all of it was. Something had robbed her of her life, transformed her, and made a murderer of her corpse.

The Ghostling frowned as, through Art of the Small, her vision and senses were extended down to a scale that typically required the use of a microscope. Eyes closed, she noted dryly that the base nerve clusters that hadn't quite been converted yet were frayed and impaled by tiny shards of forming metal - meaning quite simply that the girl had been in an incredible amount of pain as she died. 'Incredible', however, was selling it short. By the Ghostling's estimations, she'd been in as much agony as her young body had been able to communicate to her mind, the very biological heights of pain.

Who knew how long it took the virus took to kill her? The frontal lobe had been destroyed, but that didn't mean that all of her higher brain functions had been cut - she might have been thinking, feeling, right up until the ion blast had fused and ruined the electronics that had replaced her organs. Human pain was processed in the thalamus, the midbrain; if the girl HAD been alive, it was quite possible she'd felt every agonizing moment of her body being co-opted by the virus. The very thought made Aleidis' blood run cold.

Cold?

Is that fear, or is that rage? Disgust?

"We're almost done here. I promise." Aleidis sat up and fished around in her satchel - pulling on a glove with one hand was a chore, but a necessary one. "Did you know her?" The question was asked in as neutral a tone as possible, as though they were just talking casually and she wasn't about to carve tissue samples out of a tortured little girl's carcass.

The Sullustan swallowed. "Her mother came into my store, from time to time. She had a taste for imported fish." He explained in the bubbly language of his people. Glancing from the black-eyed Doctor. "...what happened to them?"

"A Sith virus - I'm not sure how better to explain it." Aleidis sighed, producing a vial next. She glanced up at her helper, flat black eyes peering through messy bangs. "Did you know her name?" Alei asked, before sliding her surgical mask down. She removed the cap, then placed the vial between her teeth.

"J-Jurine." He confided quietly, looking pale. "Jurine Hagon."

Aleidis nodded her reply, carefully producing a scalpel from her satchel. She couldn't really reply, as of yet. The Sullustan watched as Aleidis neatly sliced off the tip of the girl's pinkie - it hadn't quite been converted to metal yet. With the sample carefully balanced on the flat of her scalpel, Aleidis slid Jurine's fingertip into her vial for careful study some other time. It was swiftly capped and put into her satchel - the knife was left with Jurine's body.

"You can let go of her, now." Aleidis promised, standing up slowly. At her feet, Jurine's cooled body lay gaping up at a smoke-filled sky, her half-organic eyes blank and accusing. Bile rose in the Ghostling's throat. "The Virus that did this goes inert quickly, and destroys itself - but it's likely as mechanical, so my hope is that the ion blast froze it before it could self-destruct. If it did, the proof will be down here... in the bone of her finger." The Ghostling explained.

Her Sullustan helper stood up as well, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "So, the Sith did this?" He asked nervously. "Aren't we at peace with the Sith?" He added a moment later, his hand hovering over the blaster on his hip as though a Sith might leap out at any second.

"I don't know." Aleidis admitted apologetically. "...but I'll find out." After fishing in her pocket for a moment, she produced a small credstick and offered it over. The Sullustan swallowed hard and glanced between it and her. "...go on. You helped me out. No need to be ashamed." Aleidis encouraged.

He tentatively reached out and plucked it delicately from her palm. "This isn't payment for her. But times are tough, and her mother'll need the help." He insisted grimly, sliding the credstick into his vest pocket.

"Then consider it hush money." Aleidis suggested with a dry smirk, shrugging the slightest bit.

The Sullustan huffed a rough approximation of a laugh - naturally muted by the tragedy of what'd just happened to his home town. "Am I that easy to read?" He complained with a bitter smirk. "Alright, Chancellor - well. Ex-Chancellor. Your secret is safe with me."

Aleidis nodded her satisfaction, adjusted the strap of her satchel, and offered a small wave before leaving the dark, bloodstained alleyway in favor of dark, bloodstained streets. A place like Zeltros without electricity was as dark as sin... even in the day.

Aleidis Ijet let her mind wander as she walked.

A densely populated area filled with people from every corner of the Galaxy. Diversity. Not only that, there were enough of them imbibing a wide enough variety of drugs and substances to establish a solid testing core of reactions when the virus was introduced to outside toxins. Somebody was testing a weapon - a horrible, terrible weapon. This hadn't been a random act of terror, after all - too calculated. Too much to learn from watching the chaos - which meant that the culprit might still be nearby, if they'd wanted to observe the effects firsthand.

Was this connected to her current quest? Aleidis' gut told her that it might be.

Sentient, acidic virus outbreak on Dagobah.

The Gunjack poisoning on Metalorn.

Techno-organic virus set loose on Zeltros



Somebody was playing God. Aleidis had killed suspect #1 herself, which left... whom? An attack this clumsy didn't feel like Circe's work - and her area had always been biological engineering, not biomechanical.

Was this technological plague connected to the mind-controlling nanobots that'd ravaged the Galaxy not long ago?

Or maybe...


Gulag.


Long before her time, but the thought alone was enough to make Aleidis' heart skip a beat. Setting her jaw, the Ghostling's slow stride became a jog. She needed a quiet place to work - to plan. To research.
 
It's Real to Pretend
Writer
"Her?"

The familiar presence of someone else utilizing the White Current hit Circe as the shuttle traveled to the nearby police commander's building. She was going to personally examine some of the bodies, in order to more adequately understand what had happened. When she had an opportunity, she would examine Belia Darzu's holocron, see the correlation between the technobeasts encountered here and the ones that the Shi'ido Sith Lady had created over fifteen hundred years ago. Her shuttle flew over the ruined wasteland of devastated technology, and she sighed in relief, thinking the situation was over.

"Miss Savan, we have half a dozen of these hybrid creatures prepared for your dissection and examination."

"Excellent. Two of them I'll examine, and the other four I'll freeze in carbonite and mount on my wall." The shuttle traveled across the planetary landscape before landing at the planetary police's pad. The ramp lowered, and a relatively tired-looking Circe Savan sighed, tossing down her ion rifle and handing the first policeman to come near her a datapad with a bill for the energy cells and grenades she had used up.

"Alright... What've we got here?" The bodies of the dead technobeasts lay sprawled on the duracrete floor. Four of them were almost entirely converted, while two had been killed in the initial process of conversion. They were more than likely carriers of whatever physical manifestation of the virus - and there likely was one - that existed. A series of medical instruments were brought out from the shuttle as she began to gleefully dissect the abominations.

"Hmm... The main neural pathways seem to be dissolved into their base elements and reconstituted as technomatter. Quite magnificent. And the frontal lobes have been completely severed from the rest of the mind thanks to technomatter severing the connection. Genius." She turned to the police commander. "My apologies for seemingly glorifying whoever did this, but the result of their work is an excellent fusion of man and machine. That means very little considering their mental processes are utterly haywire, but still. It's more efficient than mounting sentient brains into replica droids."

Of course, while this was going on, she was rather visible to Alei- I mean, anyone interested in artificing her location.

@[member="Aleidis Ijet"]
 
Soliael simply wandered through the streets, there was a smirk on his face as he did so. The clean up had yet to even start, there was still dozens of corpses within the streets, some half covered with metal, some entirely replaced with cybernetic parts. The Virus had worked quickly and effectively, as Belia had designed it. Of course Soliael had designed his own little twist into the Virus, he had sped up the process quite a bit. That had been rather difficult, but in the end it had lead to obvious results.

Instead of the outbreak taking days it had taken mere hours, instead of a slow spread the Virus had taken effect instantaneously. It was a beautiful thing, one could do perched off the shoulders of giants. Of course this was only the first step, the techno virus would need to be changed more, altered but that would happen in due time.

Slowly step by step Soliael made his way through the ghost town, he observed everything and anything he could. The Techno-beasts were all down, the ion weapons had completely and entirely seen to that. A few times Soliael attempted to revive them, using Mechu-deru to rebuild and rewire their circuits. It happened almost instantaneously each time, and each time Soliael failed to bring the creatures back.

He frowned slightly as he heard the sound of voices approaching him. Research was so very difficult when not in a controlled environment.

The Security forces of Zeltros would be coming through here soon, they drew nearer and nearer. He frowned slightly, standing up next to one of the creatures.

Before the security team could round the corner Soliael blinked away. He moved behind a small outcropped building, what used to be a nightclub. Quickly he made his way inside the small concrete hovel, taking refuge where people had once partied. Inside there was half a dozen techno-beast corpses along with a few dozen regular people who had all been sliced or cut into. The Sith guessed that these people had been infected just as the Ion bomb hit. With a slight chuckle Soliael wandered over to them, crouching by their corpses and beginning to study.
 

Aleidis Zrgaat

Young soul from an older generation.
Character
There was little else to be done here. Aleidis didn't have the tools to conduct a decent autopsy here - hell, she didn't even have the funds to post up in a hotel room for the night. Times were tough on everybody.

Stopping to adjust the strap of her satchel, Aleidis paused and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up before lighting a cigarette to calm her nerves. Rage? Disgust? They had no place in her mind, nor would she bow to them. A slow exhale, a plume of grey from lips to sky, and she felt a little better. Not genuinely better, but biologically relaxed. Better living through chemical assistance, addictions notwithstanding. She couldn't afford to be angry. Not right now.

Especially considering that once she'd stopped focusing on poor little Jurine, Aleidis had felt some familiar waves washing up through the force. It wasn't that the tide had brought in something troublesome, so much as Aleidis had failed to notice it before now.

If she's behind this...

No. The mind goes to dark places, this is a weakness.

Pausing, Aleidis ducked under a pavillion to get out of the way of some police clearing the streets. For a moment, she flickered - like a television changing channels. Once, twice. Immersion was something of a specialty for Aleidis, but she wasn't trying to hide. She was giving away her position in a gesture of civility. Circe would know how to find her after that, or would at least know Aleidis was in the neighborhood. It was time to have a chat.

@[member="Circe Savan"]
 
It's Real to Pretend
Writer
The four she intended to turn into nothing but trophies of the highest caliber were taken away, prepared for carbonite preservation. The two she had been working on were now devoid of useful samples, and the plant-woman suggested burning their remains, smelting them down. "Mmm. Fire. Not good for a body like this one." Returning to the shuttle with the samples she currently held in various vials and containers, she sat down before a familiar signal seemed to flash in the landscape.

Aleidis...

It had been a very, very long time since Circe had personally seen her "daughter." Or at least the young woman she considered her unofficial daughter. The last time they had come close to meeting was the auction, where... Well, that was best forgotten about. The same was the case in regards of the Metalorn invasion, how she had been trapped in the prison complex before a surprise airstrike saved the day and prevented her from incurring the then-chancellor's wrath.

Gods, I raised her nicely... But wrong fething alignment.

And with that, she was off to meet Aleidis for what may have been the final time.

@[member="Aleidis Ijet"]
 

Aleidis Zrgaat

Young soul from an older generation.
Character
@[member="Circe Savan"]

With the summons sent, all there was to do was wait. Aleidis' intuition told her Circe was on her way - the woman was as curious as she was proud, by Aleidis' estimation. Decent traits for a scientist, though not so much on an evil one. Nothing to be done about it, though. And nothing to do but sit tight and ponder what the hell she was thinking by calling that woman to her location.

To take a bit of the strain of gravity off, Aleidis sank down and sat on the curb, looking for all the world like any other possibly-vagrant young woman on a world tailored to attract the rich and powerful from elsewhere. Tourist traps were always heavy on slums, once you got away from the glam and glitter of the spaceport areas. Cigarette hanging from her lip, the Ghostling watched panicked civillians and harried peace officers struggling to make sense of their world being turned upside-down. At least things were getting under control, now. They wouldn't be for long, if another outbreak started.
 
It's Real to Pretend
Writer
The rumble of an ion engine would hit the youthful Ghostling's ears as Circe's shuttle flew overhead, carefully landing on a bare patch of ground not covered in dead technobeasts. And for the frat time in quite a while, she emerged. Dressed in robes overlaying the Mandalorian armor she traditionally wore, a cortosis slugthrower pistol - did I say pistol? I meant derringer - in a small pocket if things became violent. But that wouldn't happen.

Would it?

"It's been a long time since I've seen you. Zel Medical, Dagobah, the harvesters, right?"

In truth, Circe herself had begun to worry. What was Aleidis here for, and what would she say? Well, at least she wouldn't be trying to kill her.

@[member="Aleidis Ijet"]
 

Aleidis Zrgaat

Young soul from an older generation.
Character
@[member="Circe Savan"]

Aleidis stood up slowly and nodded, keeping her hand visible - resting atop her satchel. Ordinarily, she would have indulged in the pleasantries and played along, but not tonight. Jurine Hagon deserved better than what she'd gotten, and some people deserved worse than what they got. No, she'd get right down to business tonight. Motioning around them, Aleidis kept her black eyes focused on the plant-hybrid woman who'd wanted so desperately to make a daughter of her. "Missus Savan, did you do this?" The Ghostling asked flatly, her concerted attempt to keep an even and neutral tone in spite of the horror and disgust boiling in her heart at what'd occurred.
 
Soliael came out of the small nightclub whistling. There was a smirk on his face as he stepped out into the cold night, one born of true confidence. His clothes had been changed, he no longer wore heavy robes and a cloak, but instead a random party goers outfit. He wore a shirt, some pants, with a heavy leather jacket. Bloodstained all of it and most of it was torn, though it all looked like it was done by human hands rather than techno beast. All in all Soliael looked entirely...ordinary.

He stepped into the streets with a slight swagger, pulling a small object from the leather jacket Soliael kept on whistling, walking directly towards where he knew the Secuirty forces had set up their barricades.

As he walked Soliael slipped the small object onto his middle finger. As the ring was put on the whole world grew a whole lot smaller. The force was taken away from him, his senses rebounded back to only what a normal human could do, and his force aura disappeared completely. The Sith Lord winces slightly, not having worn the ring in quite some time.

As he drew closer to the barricades Soliael stopped his whistling, taking on a look of absolute panic and fear instead. He began to sprint, as if running for his life. Time to display his acting skills.
@[member="Aleidis Ijet"] @[member="Circe Savan"]
 
It's Real to Pretend
Writer
"Absolutely not, Aleidis." Circe's voice immediately turned to one of shock and frustration, as in 'where the hell did you get that idea from?' "Firstly, I'm not skilled enough in sorcery to successfully complete a ritual to create technobeasts. Second, these are on my adopted homeworld. Why would I want to kill people I consider to be my brothers and sisters? And lastly, I'm certainly not a fan of converting biological organisms into tecnhological droids. Consider that my entire biomass is a hundred percent plant."

She crossed her arms, somewhat agitated at Alei for bringing such a suggestion up. "I don't want to see anyone else die here. Who do you think called in the Detritus bombers that ionized the technobeasts long enough for the electromagnetic torpedo to destroy them?"

@[member="Aleidis Ijet"]
 

Aleidis Zrgaat

Young soul from an older generation.
Character
@[member="Circe Savan"]

"The heck am I supposed to think?" Aleidis asked in affront, spreading her arm. "I show up and there's a crazy techno-organic virus floating around. Who just so happens to be on the scene than the Galaxy's premiere bio-chemist - a woman with the money and tools to do something exactly like this?" She pointed out with a frown. "Missus Savan, you can act offended as you want, but you know I've got good reason to suspect you. You don't have the best track record." The Ghostling insisted as she relaxed her posture somewhat. While she knew she had reason to suspect the green woman, she was also confident she'd know it if Circe had lied to her - so she let it go. "...but I believe you. Didn't mean to offend you, either." Aleidis apologized with a sigh.

"Moving forward, what are we going to do abou-" Aleidis's head snapped to the left abruptly, like a hunting dog going on point. Boolon Murr had explained that there were two kinds of Force User; those who made waves, and those who read the ripples. Aleidis had always been the latter, brooking heavily on her intuition and perception through the Force - necessary for a student of Mentalism, who might have to choose a single weak mind in a mob of soldiers. Part of her training with Quy'tek had been picking individuals out of crowds with her Force senses alone. So when a nearby signature abruptly reduced itself to virtually nothing, she noticed.

"Did you feel that? Some Force User just became a normal person." The Ghostling said quietly, taking a couple steps closer to Circe so she didn't have to raise her voice. "Could be Quy'Tek..." Aleidis pointed out. Had she been paying attention, she might have a better idea of where they were and what alignment they might have been, but she hadn't been. "... betcha ten credits they're our culprit. This smelled like a controlled test, she likely wanted to do her research from the front lines..."
 
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