The Blackwing Contagion

[Gael bar Ammon]

"No fate could be more terrifying than being trapped in deep space.​

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Unless there's something unknown out there with you."​

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The Oracle - Mandalorian Expeditionary Unit Frigate
Unknown Regions
Anirc System

"Sir, several signatures appearing on radar.", a female Mandalorian soldier reported. She stuttered as she began to speak again with a more exciting tone. "There's...there's more. There have to be a hundred of them!" Save for the computer modules, the entire bridge went silent. The ship's commander slowly approached the window, his mouth gaping in awe of what he was seeing. He estimated there were at least 100 ships there. As grand as the sight was, something was amiss. The fleet was at a standstill. There were no transmissions, no chatter, no activity that was detectable. It was highly unusual, especially for a fleet this size. From how it appeared, it seemed the entire fleet was abandoned. But why? "Prepare to board.", the commander ordered. Upon initial examination of the fleet, they opted to board what appeared to be the fleet's flagship - a heavy dreadnought called the Katana. The Mandalorian frigate approached on an intercept vector. It was an easy maneuver especially for a stationary ship.

The Mandalorian frigate approached the derelict dreadnought and connected the boarding tube to the airlock. A boarding party was assembled and ready to investigate. Not long after completing up the connection of the two vessels, the Mandos were inside.
"Nothing yet, sir. It appears the whole ship just packed up and left.", the party reported. Minutes had passed. "Sir, I think we have something." In the background, another soldier could be overheard shouting. "Hey! You! Stop!", they shouted in Galactic Basic. "Sir, we have something..someone. White armor, looks to be of imperial affilia...Hey! Get back!", the party leader reported back. The Mando's tone quickly went from calm to forceful, with hints of panic ridden througout his words. Blaster fire was audible in the transmissions. "Sir, they're not going do---aaggghhhh!", the party leader shouted before screaming and cutting out.

"Disconnect the ship and distance us from the fleet. Send out a distress beacon.", the commander ordered. He knew they wouldn't be able to take care of the whole fleet of dreadnoughts with only one frigate. They'd need help. With a frightened tone, the female navigator called out to the commander. "Sir, we can't disconnect from the airlock! Controls have been compromised!" Astounded and now ridden with fear, the commander continued his duties. "And the distress beacon?" The navigator turned to the commander shaking her head. Tears ran down her cheeks. She knew she would die here. Though covered under the guise of a seasoned military commander, he too understood that they would die that day.


----------------\\\\--------\\\\-------- SEVERAL YEARS LATER --------////--------////----------------


The Sentinel
Unknown Regions
Anirc System

Aboard the flagship of the Mandalorian Crusaders' fleet, the Sentinel, several prominent members of the newfound Mandalorian Empire scouted for new systems to conquer and bring under their dominion. The Sentinel had ventured into the Anire System to explore the prospect of expansion northbound of Echol'ya and past the reach of the One Sith. Discussions had been taking place as according to plan, however they were quickly silenced when alerted of a massive presence not plotted on any maps appeared. Hundreds of ships, all unmoving, none showing apparent damage.

Talks of expansion quickly took a backseat to the marvel of the large fleet in their midst. Do they fight? Do they leave? No, they investigate. Hundreds of derelict ships was unprecedented, and those aboard the Sentinel were more ambitious. While most wanted to know of what transpired, others more bold sought to commandeer the fleet and bring it under the wing of the Mandalorian Empire. The consensus was clear though - the Mandos would investigate, and that wasn't something that could be done from the Sentinel. As the command ship neared the fleet, a Mandalorian frigate was seen attached to one of the dreadnoughts. There was no distress signal, no signs of activity, a highly suspicious situation. The Oracle and the rest of the fleet didn't seem to have suffered any damage, which made the situation all the more suspect.

Now on alert, a band of Mandalorians, including the Mand'alor himself, have taken it upon themselves to board the ship to investigate the happenings of both the fleet and the Mandalorian vessel. As the shuttle flew over the dreadnought, emblazoned on the side was the name of the ship - The Katana. The fleet they had discovered was the fabled Katana Fleet. But what had happened to cause such a prominent fleet to come to such a remote area as the Anire System? What had stopped them in space?

As the shuttle attached to an airlock on the port side of the Katana, the opposite side to which the Oracle was docked. The Mandalorians departed from the shuttle and assembled in the corridor. When the last Mando entered, the shuttle had departed from the Katana to return to the Sentinel and the airlock had sealed. That mattered not though, as life support seemed to be offline. What lie ahead of these Mandos was dark and unknown...

CONDITIONS
-Life support and artificial gravity aboard the Katana and Oracle are OFFLINE.
-Primary generators are damaged beyond repair. Secondary generators are OFFLINE.
-All ships in the fleet are controlled by the Katana via slave circuit.
-ALL participants in the thread were aboard the shuttle that dropped off the boarding party. The shuttle has since returned to the Sentinel which is not attached to any ship in the fleet.

[member="Nikole Dorstar"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Maya Carrick"] | [member="Jevar Xolius"] | [member="Zephyr Carrick"] | [member="Belis Verd"] | [member="Deneve Verd"]​

 

[Vora Kaar]

Aboard the Sentinel
Carrick's temp quarters
[member="Maya Carrick"]

Wearing a simple set of duraplast armor that looked very much like a Neo-Crusader Mandalorian, I looked to my mother in her special set of armor that she would be wearing. I looked it over. The bright orange and purple colors being very much flamboyant just like she was, it matched her. I however, kept to myself as I prepared for what may come ahead. As a part of the Mandalorian Crusaders, I needed to represent my family when my father could not. As he was currently away on some kind of business trip, really just meditating in some cave away from everyone else.

I was here with my mother. She came to have some sort of bonding experience, an because my older brother Vax was kind of looking after Freya currently. Holding onto my gear, I had been told not to bring my sword today. Sure I loved the weapon, but it was cumbersome in the ship. We needed to carry light, and only the things we needed. So the only weapons I had was a blaster pistol my father had given me, and my yellow bladed lightsaber that had been mine since I was able to hold it. However, it was once my fathers when he was an Imperial Knight with some faction he was with long before he met my mother.

"Mom, are you ready yet? We need to get going and get into the ship we docked with."

Continuing down with the shuttle, we were gathered in a group that was sent to make contact with this dead one. It was here that I saw many of these crusaders wearing different helmets, and gear. No real uniform. it made me feel like I wasn't quite so out of place. Either way, We went onto the ship and made our way out of the shuttle and the docking bay. There was no life support on currently, however, there was gravity to some extent. Enough for us to still stand on the ground. Either way, if need be, we could activate our magnetic boots to keep us on the floor if need be.

Drawing my blaster pistol, I kept it ready should anything pop out as I turned on my dome lights.

"Lets stick together."

 

[Nyx]

As she made the final adjustments on her enviro suit, Nikole wondered what Dex would make of her, now. The old assassin had taught her to never subscribe to an ideology, to never assign herself to a group, to always remain alone. And since his death a year prior, the eighteen year old woman had done as he had advised. She had stayed a loner, selling her skills to the highest bidder. And that had worked, for awhile. But she had soon learned that she wanted something. . . more.
She wanted more out of her life, she wanted her actions to mean something. So when the call came out that a new group of Mandalorians were forming, she answered that call. Even now, standing in the shuttle with the Mand'alor himself, Nikole couldn't quite believe she had actually joined up.
What the hell are you doing, Nikki? She asked herself as she secured her vibroblade to her back. This isn't what you're supposed to do. You're an assassin, not a Mandalorian.
As the shuttle began it's docking sequence, she told that voice to be quiet. The time to question her actions had long since passed, now.

She stepped into the corridor of the ship with the rest of the Mandalorians, her black and red envirosuit blending in with the pitch black ship. Good. She was of more use in the shadows, anyway. She glanced over the group, rather intimidating in their beskar'gam. She didn't have a set yet, herself, which was why she was in the suit. She was also still learning Mandoa, still not quite fluent as of yet, but she was taking to it quick. She was confident that she would be up to snuff, soon.
The weak flashlight on her helmet illuminated the corridor, showing the derelict ship to her. She kept one hand on the handle of her vibroblade strapped onto her back, her brown eyes flitting around nervously.
"I've got a bad feeling about this. . ." She muttered to herself.

[member="Gael bar Ammon"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Zephyr Carrick"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Maya Carrick"]​

 

[Gael bar Ammon]

One minute he's sitting in the government offices on the system of Azure, the next he's alongside his vod in a derelict ship. Gael never thought he'd don his armor again, yet here he was, shoulder to shoulder with those of the newfound Mandalorian Empire. Upon exiting the shuttle into the Katana, he activated his magnetized boots and sank to the floor of the ship. Despite the prospect of danger, it felt good - to be on the ground with the young ones again. He felt like a soldier again. He felt relevant again. He activated his helmet light and two bright beams of white light came from the edges of his T-visor. On his back was a Republic-issue T-998C blaster rifle, and on each of his thighs was a T-600C blaster pistol. On the small of his back was a beskad. Reaching behind him, he drew his rifle and held it at the low ready. For an old man, Gael was armed to the teeth, and he was augmented with a few defensive capabilities as well. It felt grand.

Gael looked up and down the corridors. His helmet lights cut through the darkness to reveal even more darkness. There were no signs of battle, struggle, conflict, anything. It's like everyone just turned the power off and left. His voice altered slightly by his helm, he spoke. "Turning on the power should be priority number one.", he notioned.

[member="Zephyr Carrick"] | [member="Nikole Dorstar"]​

 

[Jevar Xolius]

The air was stagnant, and the dark of the ship was ever-so peculiar with an inky blackness that emitted an eerie, questionable presence. The t-visor of Jevar's helmet brightened itself to compensate for the low visibility, his flashlight came online and scanned the dusty walls of the derelict ship. E-33 shouldered with the burst fire option switched on, Jevar paced himself calmly and slowly down one of the corridors. "Seems like this place hasn't seen any life in years. Why stop in formation, though? Nobody in their right mind would leave this here as a cache." The Mandalorian's HUD flickered for a moment, his radar was picking up something. "Anyone else getting this reading?"

Feeling a tad unsettled, Jevar kept his eye down his sights and continued to pace himself apprehensively. "Somebody cover my six, I want to scout ahead to make sure the area is at least clear."

The creaking and groaning of decaying metal and neglect accompanied the search party, whispering to them the echoes of demise that coursed through the ship like veins in a body. What was once possibly a grand spectacle of engineering had now turned into a what felt like a graveyard.

Suddenly, Jevar caught a glimpse of a figure moving further down the corridor itself. "I think I saw something. Keep your safety off, ladies and gentlemen."

Something wasn't right here.

[member="Nikole Dorstar"] | [member="Zephyr Carrick"] | [member="Gael bar Ammon"] | [member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Runi Verin"]​

 

[Marcus Itera]

The only easy day was yesterday.

Probably the truest words Marcus had ever heard in his entire life. Governments, armies, old friends, brothers; literally everyone and their second cousin knew who he was and needed him to do a favor for them. The Republic, the Galactic Alliance, the Mandalorian Clans, the old Dreadguard battalions. In his near thirty year existence in this galaxy, he'd done quite a lot in his free time. Sometimes he regretted it, and other times he really didn't have anything productive to do besides work out or talk smack to the other soldiers.

"Kit up, hot stuff. We've got work to do." Miranda always had that tendency to chime in when Marcus was deep in thought. Annoying, surely, but the notion to get back to work was appreciated.

The Supercommando nodded and sighed. "Right, right. I'll do thy bidding, my synthetic overlord."

"That's what I like to hear."

Another sigh. Putting on his armor and donning the rest of his equipment could take upwards to two or three standard minutes. It was second nature already and these new improvements had vastly increased the comfort of this old thing. It actually felt good to have it on. He'd slept in it before, and even those bathroom functions were included. He'd have to give the lead designer a kiss or something one day.

Deploying was quick as well. Most of the Mando'a didn't recognize the new armor save for the Clan Itera emblems emblazoned on his shoulder pauldrons, but the boarding ships efficiently launched and landed, depositing shock troops as necessary.

He was one of the first to step off. His twin helmet spotlamps activated instantly along with his rifle's tactical light. Blobs of light splayed across the bulkheads of the derelict vessel. Mandalorian soldiers dispersed fairly evenly, though none of them tended to stray too far from another - didn't want something grabbing you out of the darkness, Marcus supposed. It was all in sound tactical ingenuity and the Dreadguard was pleased with it.

"Movement, 12 o'clock low."

Marcus trailed the words by a millisecond, sending his spotlamp to the position just as a shadow lurched away into a room.

"We aren't alone here," he called out. "Stay frosty."

[member="Gael bar Ammon"], [member="Zephyr Carrick"], [member="Nikole Dorstar"], [member="Jevar Xolius"]

 

[Darth Rixas]

Moving into the ship he leaned around corners, staring into the gloom of the unnaturally silent vessel, eyes unblinking as he lifted a finger to his buy'ce. A barely audible snap gave life to a singular light that erupted from under his hood, illuminating his path with a stark white glow. His blades holstered for the moment, he gripped a heavy blaster pistol in one hand and a machine pistol in the other, rotating which was raised depending on what side of the hall he ducked in to investigate. There were niggling hints of danger all around him, so tangible Oron thought he could taste it. The Force offered warnings with delicate touches that seemed to seep through his skin with an insatiable warmth. But that was as far as it went, for nothing could reach the ice that held fast around his gelid heart, only willing to fracture it to defend his fellow vod. It was in situations such as these that such thoughts were more relevant than ever. Then, just as he was about to call a clear on this side of the craft, he was pulled from his idle thoughts by a disturbing- foreign sound.

tshhhhhhh.....tshhhhhh...

The sound of something dragging? Speaking? Gurgling? Whatever it was immediately snared Oron's attention as he snapped out of the vacant room he was sweeping, and moved back into the hall, pistols raised to either side as his crimson T-Visor moved left and right, searching for a hostile. His breathing slowed then as he attempted to remove any of his own factors that could obscure his hearing, but alas- there was nothing. Whatever made that noise had since moved on. It was at that moment that the latest chatter over the comms came in from [member="Marcus Itera"].

"You got that right, we're not alone."

Naturally it was protocol to greet any hostility with force- however, this was a unique situation. Racket on this side of the vessel could echo throughout the rest of the ship, possibly attracting the home-owners in hordes. The squad had yet to collect any data on these possible aggressors, and until Oron had at least an inkling of what they were dealing with, he decided it best to move back into reasonable range of the Crusaders.

His footsteps echoed in the halls as he drew near them before he felt something slick under his feet. Sidestepping out of the mess, a frown hitched onto his mouth as a brow edged upwards as he examined the darkened spot before him.

"What the kark?" Oron spat into his comm.

Was it blood? Vomit? He couldn't tell, Oron simply slid his boots in the dry area of the floor, ridding the substance of his person, or at least what could leave a visible trail. He lowered his pistols then, hearing the steps of what sounded like a member of the squad approaching. Maybe they could offer a better assessment then what he could present.

[member="Gael bar Ammon"], [member="Zephyr Carrick"], [member="Nikole Dorstar"], [member="Jevar Xolius"],

 

[Jevar Xolius]

Hearing other voices on his comm frequency, Jevar decided to chip in some dialogue. "You know, it'd be one thing to be on a ship where you at least have people patrolling. This? It's a damn graveyard. Secondly- What?" The gunman's attention and speech was suddenly cut off as if he had seen something. "There is uh... a good bit of blood here." One of the side rooms that appeared to be a storage area was caked in a web of grotesque happenings of a time past; however, this looked somewhat fresh. "What do you guys suppose did all this? And where the kark is the crew?"

Suddenly the cracking of something indistinguishable caught Jevar's attention. Once again, his radar was acting up. "Ah hell..."

Moving back slowly towards where he came with E-33 shouldered, the Mando didn't make a sound. He listened and scanned the darkness with his flashlight and targeting systems, not a damn thing to be caught in his sights just yet. Just as he was turning around, Jevar noticed something at his feet. Identification? The tag itself seemed to read about a scientist, imperial at that. The blood on this was coagulated and sappy, practically sticking to his gloves.

"Found some kind of evidence, ladies and gents. We have the ID of one Dr. Raul Velkin, department of experimental weapons research and bio-engineering. What the hell is all this?"

The hum of the darkness grew more as an entity rather than a vapid stagnant air, slowly curling its fingers of fate around the necks of each vod.

[member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Nikole Dorstar"] | [member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Gael bar Ammon"] | [member="Zephyr Carrick"]

 

[Zef Halo]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaIoK3Bf6lk​

​

Not again, Isley.

We are too old for this shit.

Whatever the hell weaved the threads of fate seemed to always throw Zef Halo into spooky and creepy derelict ships. He would never forget the operation so long ago with [member="Isley Verd"] among other Mandalorians such as Halik Falkosi and Hutuun'Kyramud where they had to entered a similar ghost ship that was full of Sith experiments. Obnoxious, deadly and outlandish creatures that served only purpose - to kill. They had lost a lot of Mandalorians that faithful day, he wished the same would not happen again as he stepped on the corridors of the abandoned ship.

No gravity. No life.

Nothing.

Deep inside, Zef wanted that to calm him. There were very few creatures that could live in vacuum and they were not really that deadly, usually. Yet, that did not calm him. He'd been in too much of this dead space shit to be calm. Especially as a few of the Mandalorians moved forward and someone reported contact. The scoundrel's sensors told him nothing. The man was probably hallucinating out of fear. That was quite the possibility. Darkness was the ultimate inspiration for imagination. But when another Mandalorian reported that he had seen something else, Zef took out his verpine shatter pistol and proceeded forward.

"What the kark?"

A voice rang in his comm and he turned to its source, a familiar Mandalorian next to him had his helmet focused on the spot. Zef crouched and touched the spot immediately after that a black spot on his night vision made his heart skip a beat and look up at where it was.

​

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Nothing.

Stygium.

He cursed that there was no sound due to the vacuum. Zef very well remembered the creepy encounter he and Miss Blonde had on that stygium mine. It highly possible that the things here were influenced by the stealth capabilities of stygium rendering the Mandalorians' sensors useless. Without sound, it was much worse.

<</Okay, Mandos. We need life support systems online./>> His voice crackled through the comm-link as he activated his integrated sonic mapper to give a better idea of their whereabouts. Simultanously, he tapped into the HoloNet database of his personal files regarding the Dreadnaught-class heavy cruiser. It was the cruisers that the Katana Fleet was made of. The scoundrel did not know if the others had the blueprints of this ancient ship but he sure did. It was a smuggler's dream to find the famed Katana fleet. All information about it, the Underworld had all of it. <</Sending you on your HUDs the blueprints of the ship. Those who have a sonic mapper on your helmets, it's about damn time to use it apart from those flashlights./>>

Zef went through the blue prints quickly pinpointing the necessary locations for the Mandalorians to divide and conquer.

<</We are currently located close to the docking port. We need the life support systems up ASAP. They are supposed to be somewhere close to the engines, not too far away from here. Another team is to check the Mandalorian vessel docked on the other side, the way seems a bit complicated due to the designer's tardiness. And the last team. Well, the bridge of course. I will be heading that way, if it comes to ever piloting this thing, I can do it. And don't trust your sensors./>>

Oya Mando.

Spoiler

[member="Gael bar Ammon"], [member="Zephyr Carrick"], [member="Nikole Dorstar"], [member="Jevar Xolius"], [member="Oron Verd"], [member="Marcus Itera"]

 

[Runi Verin]

[member="Gael bar Ammon"] | [member="Zephyr Carrick"] | [member="Nikole Dorstar"] | [member="Jevar Xolius"] | [member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Zef Halo"]​

An involuntary shiver passed through the salvager as the airlock closed behind them. The muted ke-clunk of the locking mechanism sliding into place resounded like a death knell to her ears, imagined or not. Gritting her teeth, she shook her head and rapped her knuckles gently against the side of her helmet to dispel the notion. This wasn’t a time to let nerves get the better of her. Kark, anyone would’ve thought this was her first time boarding a derelict, when in fact the opposite was true. This was the closest Runi had come to normalcy since signing on with Isley Verd and his merry band of Crusaders. She was a professional in this kind of arena; it was time she acted like it.

“If this is anythin’ like the later models Rendili put out,” The salvager spoke up, casting a glance around the surrounding corridors, the low-light functions of her helmet automatically compensating for the gloom. After a moment or two of deliberation, she gave small nod and started down on the access passage ways that splintered off before them, pausing only to slap a hand on the nearest vod and volunteer them to accompany her. She might have been willing to put on a brave face and ignore the icy chill currently creeping up her spine, but she would be karked if she was about to go off alone. This place reminded her far too much of that Mandalorian station she’d ventured into only a few weeks prior. “We should be able to get to the auxiliary generators down this way. Can’t say if they’ll be enough to power up the whole ship, but I should be able to get some basic functions back on. Maybe a bit of life support if we don’t spread out too much.”

They had made it perhaps fifty or sixty feet before the first messages began to filter through on her comms, only further adding to the sense of unease that was welling up in the pit of her stomach with each and every step. Her hand dropped to the clipped carbine at her hip, reflexively curling her fingers around the weathered grip. She knew it was just a trick of her mind, but the shadows seemed to be growing darker down here. Phantom shapes seemed to move in the distance, swirling in the darkness bef---

Fierfek! She nearly jumped out of her skin as Zef’s familiar voice broke across the channels, the carbine being half yanked from its holster before she caught herself and stilled. “<</’Keep up old man, what do you think I’m doin'? An’ how about we keep this comms clear unless we actually see somethin' actually useful an' duracrete, ‘lek? I thought I was with some tough Mando’ade, not some jumpy, huttspawn aruetiise, frettin’ over every bloody shadow. Haran. Keep it together./>>”

 

[Gael bar Ammon]

OOC: Italics denote Mando'a

As he peered down the corridors, Gael felt a hard tap on his shoulder. Runi, the Crusader's go-to mechanic and engineer, passed Gael on his left and proceeded forward. Drafted to wander into the darkness to find the central controls? Despite being Runi's senior, he said himself that reestablishing the power was a priority, so he had no qualms being voluntold to accompany the mechanic so she could do so. Once the lights got back on, Gael would be able to at least breath a little easier. With luck, artificial gravity could be restored along with other essential systems.

He followed Runi down the dark corridors, illuminated only by the lights from the Mando boarding party. Zef sent over the blueprints to the ship so that they might find the generators easier. He saw Runi jerk sharply as Zef's voice came through on comms in their helmets. Instinctively, he did the same, quickly shouldering his rifle. He breathed a sigh of relief when it turned out to be nothing. Gael let out a brief chuckle when he heard Runi shut the scoundrel up. If she was calling Zef though, what did she think of Gael? He put the thought in the back of his mind though as he regained his composure.

Gael continued to examine his surroundings. Everything seemed...clean. Though masked by darkness, from what he could see, it looked like the ship just passed an inspection. Why would the a ship in a fleet be abandoned if it's still serviceable? It didn't make sense. He tried to think of plausible explanations. The power was offline, so maybe there was a raid with help on the inside? Maybe they all got on other ships and abandoned the remainder of the fleet. But the question remained the same; Why?

"Lead the way, little one.", Gael notioned to the engineer, his eyes shifting behind his T-visor.

[member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Zef Halo"] | @Jevar Xolius | [member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Nikole Dorstar"] | [member="Zephyr Carrick"]​

 

[Marcus Itera]

There was no fear, only anticipation. Fear in combat was something he'd abandoned long ago, replacing it with prickly feeling of adrenaline flooding his veins and the anxious butterflies of his stomach. It was a prickly, cold sweat that beaded down his forehead despite climate-controlled armor. The air he sucked into his lungs was swabbed clean by filters, and it tasted like a damn hospital did - and that didn't really help things.

"I'm receiving the mapping data. It should be on the HUD now. Let's make our way to the medical bay first and check for survivors, then let's hit up the bridge." Miranda's cyan hologram danced across his visor, a pale blue hand aimlessly pulling holographic hair behind an ear. "They should have a command console or auxiliary control outlet I can connect to. Might be able to data mine and find out what's happened."

"Sounds like a plan to me. Just watch my six, 'Randa."

She flashed him a nonchalant salute, "Can do."

Jamming his rifle into his shoulder, he made one last comm call: <<"Heading for the med bay for survivors then the bridge. One or two vod come with me.">>

Then he started to advance in that direction, noting the peculiar absence of doors from their frames. Debris littered the adjacent corridors and the ever-present atmosphere of something lurking in the shadows never faded.

[member="Gael bar Ammon"], [member="Nikole Dorstar"], [member="Oron Verd"], [member="Jevar Xolius"], [member="Zef Halo"], [member="Runi Verin"]

 

[Jevar Xolius]

<<"Heading for the med bay for survivors then the bridge. One or two vod come with me.">>

"Roger that vod, advancing to your position now. " Jevar had been listening most of the time, the implication of life support and at least some normalcy was refreshing but at the same time troubling. An uneasy feeling sank into the Mandalorian mutt's stomach as he consulted his HUD for the coordinates to the med bay. His findings were at best morbid metaphors of something he wasn't quite familiar with. Jevar's gaze had yet to be invaded by such unorthodox conditions. Something was very peculiar about this place and curiosity would not rest until the reason for this derelict state was discovered.

But was discovery truly what the hearts of every vod on this ship desired? Doubtful, but a mission was a mission. It needed to be done regardless, and if anyone were to find such a treasury, who better than the Mandalorians?

"I'm keeping the ID I found, could come in handy, no?" Jevar commented. He truly felt it could be of use somehow, but for what was uncertain.

Moisture began to accumulate on the man's brow as his eyes intently focused on his surroundings and the darkness. His flashlight only penetrated a few feet of the inky blackness, but it was better than being stranded and blind. Subtle thuds and dragging could be heard from behind the walls of locked rooms, but Jevar pressed on. He wasn't staying here alone for another second.

"I keep hearing things. Do not catch yourself alone in here, stick together."

A warning best heeded, Jevar knew he couldn't be the only one hearing or seeing things.


[member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Gael bar Ammon"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Oron Verd"] |

 

[Keira Priest]

"I take back whatever I may have said at any other point. This has to be the worst idea you've had in a long time." A smile flashed beneath her helmet as Thalia graced her with what had become a fairly common exasperated look from the corner of the HUD. "Oh, c'mon, you've known me for upwards of four years now. I'm sure I've had plenty of bad ideas you can choose from." That was far more true than Keira would have liked to admit, though she always managed to come out with, at worst, another scar or a broken bone or two. "Besides, this time I'm not alone." "Experience tells me that means nothing in the grand scheme of things." Well, she had her there. "Fair enough." Idle conversation ceased once the airlock sealed shut, and instantly her awareness heightened.

Unlike how most would have reacted when faced with an abandoned, derelict ship and a gore-covered room or two, none of them wholly panicked. There were nerves, certainly, but each returned to objective thought within the minute. "Map incoming." For a moment she studied the outline of the ship, noting their position and its relativity to the vital areas of this vessel. "No lifeforms have been detected, either. You still feeling optimistic?" "Oh, always. You know me." Despite her words she extended her ethereal senses about her as a sort of tripwire system. Anything that crossed within her barrier of awareness that wasn't a friendly would be instantly obvious to her senses, and death would follow. It was only a matter of when.

Her left hand flexed almost absently, and she took the time to note just where every one of her weapons were located on her person. She refocused once [member="Marcus Itera"] spoke up. <<"On you.">> "Sure, let's head to the two likely most dangerous locales on the ship." "Like you had a better idea." A twitch of her fingers called the hilt of her saber into her grasp, and she relaxed just a fraction with that one token of familiarity now easily applicable. Her thumb hovered over the button for ignition, and she studied their surroundings. <<"Would it be too untoward of me to say that I have a bad feeling about this?">>

[member="Jevar Xolius"], [member="Zef Halo"], [member="Isley Verd"], [member="Oron Verd"], [member="Gael bar Ammon"], [member="Runi Verin"]

 

[Vora Kaar]

Continuing to move on from the opening, I had decided to stay towards the back. If there was something bigger than me, I would rather have those more experienced in war and battle start to deal with it, and allow me more time to grasp the situation. Hence why when everyone started yelling about blood on the ground, an ooze that was sticking to the base deck on the floor while in a zero g environment, I just had to shake my head. Something was really wrong here. I have faced my fair share of zombie like people. The old generic head damage or spinal damage would put them down.

But this seemed different. Something was off. As I could hear the other men signaling for multiple others within the group, the man in charge sent schematics to our huds. Telling us to use our sonic mapping systems if we had it. Sell crap. I didn't have that, I was in a very simple form of armor because I didn't have the time to make official Mandalorian armor, nor have their standard set of armor they handed out to others. Instead, I switched my blaster to my left hand, and grabbed my lightsaber with my right.

Preparing it, I decided that as a light source, it would be fine to use in this dark place. Igniting the yellow burning blade, It illuminated more of the surrounding area for myself and a few others near me. However, it was not something that would illuminate further distances, as such, there was an empty hall that was behind us. Using the force, I threw the lightsaber down the hall. Sending it to impale itself into a door, blastdoor to be correct, and yanked it back out to see shadows move in the distance.

Something was here, and it was not friendly from the signs of the blood, and the secretive nature of it's presence. Using the force once more, I pulled on the saber. Letting it smack into my hand as I decided to speak to everyone as well.

"Watch your corners, The shadows move to stay away from us."

As I walked onward with the rest of the group, the only sounds I could hear were my breathing, others speaking through the com systems, and the thud of my boots hitting the floor. The sound was not actually my boot hitting the floor, but the sound waves traveling up the inside of my suit and reaching my ears. The would be clanks and booms of boots were replaced with dull thuds and scraping of the armor I wore.

There was no sound in space, so literally, the only way you could hear someone scream, was through the communications.

This, is hell at its finest.

[member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Jevar Xolius"], [member="Marcus Itera"], [member="Gael bar Ammon"], [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Zef Halo"], [member="Oron Verd"], [member="Nikole Dorstar"], [member="Maya Carrick"],

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

Saverok had lived through many events and held a vast amount of wisdom but his memory could tell him little about the infamous Katana Fleet. His vod were already exploring the dead ship looking to power it up once more. His mind could not the feeling of dread which was odd for him to sense. It was true space did kinda make him paranoid but this feeling he was getting as he wondered the Derelict ship was bizarre! His steps thumped heavily in his power armored suit, His gear was very light. Infact the only weapon he had on his person was his personal Lightsaber the Dragons Flame. The Gen'dai never needed much equipment unlike his darker half Kezeroth.

The comms were booming with activity It was annoying him slightly. Was getting hard hearing himself think. Getting ready to go silent Saverok paused as he heard the word blood in his comm from his allies. Speaking into his mic for the first time the Gen'dai voiced his concerns.

" Tal? Vaii cuyir ibic Tal at? Ta'na ni a taap jii." His deep inhuman voice demanded in his native tongue. At this point he had only some ideas of what could be with them. He was guessing some type of Sithspawn at the current moment.

[member="Zephyr Carrick"]
[member="Keira Ticon"]
[member="Jevar Xolius"]
[member="Marcus Itera"]
[member="Gael bar Ammon"]
[member="Runi Verin"]
[member="Oron Verd"]
[member="Zef Halo"]
[member="Nikole Dorstar"]
[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

Two figures broke off from the main formation to accompany him, their own tactical lights joining the party as almost half a dozen blobs of light splayed across the corridors of the derelict vessel. Alloyed support beams overhead creaked with the shifted pressure of the vessel, most likely due to the fact that the Mandalorian boarding ships had altered that in some way - but Marcus couldn't help but glance upwards every now and then to warily eye the ventilation shafts. Too many places to hide, too many places to be ambushed from. The Dreadguard didn't like the situation whatsoever.

Then he saw it.

Initially, Marcus had registered the object as a hostile contact. When his vision focused on it, all three of his lights trained upon the figure in the middle of the hallway, he raised a balled fist and signalled his pair of compatriots to hold position.

"The hell is that?"

It took a moment for Miranda to respond. "Looks like an average civilian, or maybe a spacer."

It sure did look like one. A thin frame, sulking shoulders and a slumped posture were the least of their concerns. What the Supercommando was focused on was the fact that the figure just blocking the corridor only had a single arm, with its back to the trio of Mandalorian boarders.

A clicking of his teeth toggled the built-in annunciator, "Hands up, stand down! Turn to face me slowly or I will drop you on the spot."

"Why'd you say hands instead of hand?"

"Habit."

The figure seemed to oblige for just a second. That lone hand of his slowly raised up to his slumped shoulder as it shuffled in place, turning at an excruciatingly sluggish pace to face the Mandalorians.

"Feth," Marcus breathed.

And then it charged.

A high-pitched shriek erupted from deep within. Its sullen and rotted mouth cracked open like a chasm and it let loose with that howlish scream before lowering crimson eyes to bear upon Marcus. Foot after foot the creature snarled once more and began its hobbled charge before stopping short as the Dreadguard but a pair of slugs right into its face. The rotted body dropped against the bulkhead with a sickening thump.

Another scream resounded off in the distance.

"I think we've got company."

[member="Gael bar Ammon"], [member="Nikole Dorstar"], [member="Oron Verd"], [member="Jevar Xolius"], [member="Zef Halo"], [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Saverok the Unleashed"], [member="Zephyr Carrick"], [member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Jevar Xolius]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q657rEkgfKs​

​

​

It's killing time.​

​

​

"Let's start falling back, we need everyone on alert for this." Jevar barked at his fellow vod, shouldering his E-33 as he took aim down the same hallway [member="Marcus Itera"] made contact in; however, by the sounds of things, they were coming in from multiple entry points. Relentless sounds of thrashing and groaning encroached ever closer towards the sounds of discharge. From the darkness emerged the answer as to what happened to the crew and armed guard, some missing limbs or even large portions of their anatomy.

Without much more hesitation, the young warrior unleashed a steady burst into the oncoming crowd of things. This was like a bad dream, or having a drug overdose. The latter was a problem Jevar personally witnessed before; a life he'd rather forget, a time of great shame. One of the creatures was struck in the dome, slumping over and being trampled without care by the shuffling congregation of flesh.

The other two rounds inflicted little damage when making contact with the chest or body. "They're persistent, I'll give 'em that. Not enough for all of us though! Oya!" And with that, the prideful bastard unleashed another burst whilst slowly backpedaling. He wanted to bring down as many as he could, he wanted a victory.

This was the first encounter Jevar had ever had with these things; not a stranger to the atrocities of the galaxy and war, the young man was truly afraid of this situation. Fear lived in his heart, and through this, he forged his own brand of courage. To embrace the enemy and their presence was paramount, to bask in the understanding of death was vital. It was them or himself, and he preferred the first. With a defiant roar, the warrior mocked his prey.

​

"Eat it, freaks!" ​

​

Death: it was the very thing that kept Jevar moving, the very thing that made him want to fight. ​

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[member="Saverok the Unleashed"] | [member="Zephyr Carrick"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Gael bar Ammon"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | Zef Halo | [member="Isley Verd"] |