Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!
| Location | Lianna, Outer Rim Territories
| Objective | II - Delenda Est - Locate the Data Vault Itzhal VolkiharNiijima Izumi
[ -- Wait wait wait.] Avast immediately began, the grin hiting her voice before anything else, sharp and bright. [ Mand'alor… got a betting pool on his love life now? ]
Oh how did her pearly white teeth flash behind the visor in utter, pure, devious delight at that bit of tea on Aether Verd
.
[ Aether, really? My vod out here missin' dates bad enough people puttin' credits on it? ] A quiet, incredulous laugh slipped through. [ Nah, nah… you not droppin' that and movin' on. Who's the lucky one, hmm? ]
The Pathfinder leaned in just a fraction towards Itzhal, her attention fully hijacked.
[ Don't tell me I've been off-world and missed the best clan gossip -=]
The shift was instant as if a switch had flipped within Avast. Her heavy blaster pistol came up at the ready position.
[ Yeah… I feel it now, ] she muttered as her voice dropped low. That helm turned towards Itzhal.
[ You got what we came for? ]
Avast let her stance widen just a bit slightly, covering the corridor. And even as her mind was fighting the desire to keep asking more about who this love interest her brother had going for her, so much that whether or not he would flop a second date was a matter of a betting pool, there was no mistaking how her body settled into one ready for action.
[…Alright.. we can finish the gossip after I make sure nobody else in here's breathin' wrong. ]
Her attention remained where it was; on the man slumped against the console, his breathing shallow, uneven in a way that spoke of minutes, not hours. Her fingers moved with quiet precision, unfastening part of his armor, checking what little she could without tools or time.
The words did not meet deaf ears; for the first time, she hesitated. Not outwardly; her hands did not stop, her posture did not falter; but something quieter shifted beneath it. A pause that wasn’t visible so much as felt, like a breath caught between two decisions.
Another cough tore through her, harsher than before.
She turned away slightly, pressing the cloth tightly to her lips as her shoulders dipped with the force of it. This time, it didn’t pass cleanly. It lingered, dragging something deeper with it, until she had to brace a hand against the floor to steady herself.
When she pulled the cloth away, there was no hiding it. A deeper, darker crimson marked the otherwise pure white cloth. Her breath didn’t recover right away.
And in that moment, kneeling between the two of them; one dying, one demanding; Na Ri felt it clearly:
She did not have the strength for both.
The man beneath her hands was slipping. She could feel it in the faintness of his pulse, the way his body no longer resisted. He would not last long without her.
But neither would she. And behind her, the terminal still hummed. The way he had looked at her; not as someone to save, but someone he needed.
Her fingers stilled for a second. “…I know,” she said softly.
It wasn’t clear which of them she was answering.
Na Ri’s eyes swept up to meet Prisoner’s. The quiet certainty she carried had fractured, just slightly, under the weight of reality pressing in on all sides. “If I stay…” she murmured, almost to herself, “…he dies slower.”
She swallowed before continuing, “If I leave…” her voice thinned, “…he dies alone.”
The words would settle between them, fragile and unresolved.
Another tremor shook the room—stronger this time. One of the overhead panels sparked, then went dark entirely. The hum of the servers dipped lower, unstable.
Time was collapsing around them.
Na Ri’s gaze flickered, just once, toward the terminal behind him. Then back to the man beneath her hands. Then back to the Prisoner. The equilibrium of choice was slipping, she knew well.
Her hand shifted; no longer actively treating, but not withdrawing either. “You said they kept you there,” she said, her voice softer now, threaded with something deeper. “That place… it mattered.”
She swallowed, the motion subtle but strained. “…So does this.” Na Ri didn’t expect him to understand, nor did she expect him to stay behind for her or for the injured. She knew full well who she was insisting to heal, and how much many of those she interacted with loathed the Imperials. But she was a healer above anything else. ”You don’t have much time…take whatever you can and leave…” her voice trailed as she inhaled deeply ”Now.”
CT-312 caught the small wrinkle appearing at the bridge of the newcomer’s nose, along with a hint of irritation as it smoothed away in a restrained single-word answer. “Daella.” The Scout repeated. Her helmet dipped once in acknowledgement as Daella returned to what appeared to be a meditation. BARCA responded to the name, pulling up the received dossier into view across the lower corner of CT-312’s HUD. Two windows expanded as BARCA highlighted only the most relevant points while lines of additional text scrolled in the second window.
Skepticism lingered and curiosity was not too far from it. Potentially useful, giving them a huge advantage… if it actually worked. There were worse things to bring on a mission than a prophet.
One brow lifted slightly behind the visor at Eira’s remark that included the Mandalorians with the Sith whom not to be trifled with. Just as the apprentice was mentioning strapping in— the shuttle lurched hard enough to grab everyone’s attention. Its metal frame shuddered as it entered the thick of the firefight. CT-312 raised her voice just enough to carry over the noise. “If we keep cruising through this in an Imperial Shuttle without hailing anyone or asking for assistance, that's going to look suspicious and raise some questions.”
“I doubt the Imperials will let us pass through cleanly with a lone Sith fighter riding our tail for that long.”Thud. Thud. CT-312’s mag boots activated, keeping her in place as if the turbulence didn’t exist. “Intel. Data. Anything that points to where the rest of the fractured Imperial Confederation forces are hiding.”
The shuttle groaned under another hard maneuver. Shaking violently as it cut through the expanding debris field. BARCA finally caught a reply. A sharp chimesounded as the speakers crackled.
Secondary hanger. “Daella,” CT-312 turned her helmet toward the meditating seer. “What is your assessment of the secondary hanger?”
Before BARCA could chime, Caligo surged through the bond. Rage came through, slamming into the Scout all at once. She could feel it enough pressing behind her eyes. The Dûr’ashaarai strained hard against its leash as it sensed what was coming, wanting violence.
[ INCOMING ]
[ THREE HOSTILES ]
[ THREE TIE FIGHTERS INBOUND ]
On CT-312’s HUD, three Imperial TIE fighters peeled away from the larger formation and headed straight to intercept the Sith Fighter. She could feel the hunger pulsing, demanding release. CT-312’s jaw tightened beneath the helmet as she exhaled slowly and controlled. Her eyes skimmed over the highlighted enemy tags—TIE FIGHTERS— before BARCA’s feed switched again, bringing back the Planetary Defense Systems back into her display. An idea began to take shape. “And… ships.” CT-312 isolated the three inbound TIEs and shared the image for the others to see. “Specifically those kinds. The more the better.”
The compartment rattled around them. Red emergency lights started to flicker. BARCA’s let out a series of loud warning chimes and beeps. The Imperial Shuttle banked sharply, then dropped.
[ DANGER: FRIENDLY FIRE ]
One of the allied fleets that appeared began firing in their direction at the Eye of Helvede, the ship they were boarding. A near-miss shockwave and blast battered against the shuttle's frame. Space outside the hull had become full chaos. With that new complication, CT-312 began reworking the plan in her head— A faint tug brushed across another familiar bond.
Her visor angled barely a noticeable fraction toward the viewport, in the direction of Voss. In the direction of Quinn. A distant uneasiness. It was small enough that she would have dismissed it under normal circumstances. But for the span of a breath, CT-312 second-guessed whether volunteering for this mission had been the right choice— Caligo tore across her senses again, overlapping the distant unease. A second sharp pull hit her mind as the Dûr’ashaarai strained against BARCA’s remote control, impatient to be unleashed.
Annoyance and Caligo’s influence crept into CT-312’s tone as she muttered,“Time to drop the act.” The command went out.
The Dûr’ashaarai immediately changed its behavior.
It had remained on the shuttle’s rear quarter, maintaining the illusion of pressure. Now it began to slow, just enough to suggest the Imperial Shuttle was slipping away. The shuttle finally entered into the secondary hangar of the Eye of Helvede. BARCA replaced the external feed with live images of the interior bay. Its welcoming party already waiting inside.
CT-312 studied the live feed in silence. A handful of TIE fighters rested in orderly rows along the bay. “It looks like we have ten Troopers” her eyes narrowed slightly as she counted, “and…” BARCA isolated the squad leader, zooming in. “An Imp handler.”Thunk. Thunk. Her mag boots disengaged. CT-312 made her way to the closed ramp that stood before her.
The reverberation of returning fire and incoming barrages raining down upon the Imperial fleet, rolled through the Secondary Hanger. “Change of plans.” The Scout looked back over one shoulder toward Daella, Eira, and Scherezade. “Keep this shuttle running. I’ll be right back.” Her gloved hand reached into a pouch, pulling out a smoke grenade. A loud hiss emitted as ramp’s locks disengaged and began to lower. CT-312 tossed out the primed grenade, throwing it through the gap as it opened half-way through.
It struck the hanger floor several feet from the foot of the ramp. Bouncing a couple times before spinning. A second later, thick smoke began pouring out from its canister in an aggressive white-grey cloud. The smoke spread quickly across the deck. Billowing outward into the Troopers’ and Sergeant's line of sight, making visual confirmation difficult.
— As the three TIE Fighters entered attack range, Caligo’s engine ignited with a sudden intense brightness. Its wraith-phase cloaking mantle shimmered once, a ghostlike distortion rolling across its hull, before the fighter vanished entirely into stealth. Any sensors or visual confirmation would have found nothing.
—
Before the foot of the ramp had fully settled against the deck and became swallowed by the smoke. A sharp whine rose from the repulsor pack on the Halcyon Armour. Power surged through the system as the faint glow from its vents radiated. CT-312 took two quick steps down the ramp. Light bent across the camouflaged plating as its distortion swept over, its cloaking activated. By the third step, the repulsor pack flared to life.
With a sharp burst of force, CT-312 was hurled forward in a sudden violent lunge, driving her off the ramp and straight into the cover of the smoke.
—
For a moment, an eerie quiet seemed to settle within both the Secondary Hanger and out in space. BARCA marked CT-312's HUD with multiple blips as the Halcyon's sensors pinpointed the stormtroopers’ position through the smoke.
— Caligo reappeared. Directly in front of the center Tie Fighter. Its cloaking mantle and shields disengaged as the TIE was close enough that the Imperial pilot would have had enough time to see the shape of death bearing down on them. To be close enough to see exactly what was happening and still be unable to stop it. Caligo wanted to taste fear before it drove its frame through the opposing fighter in a shriek of twisting metal and fire.
—
Out of the smoke, the Scout came in a low with brutal speed. Driven forward by the repulsor pack’s amplified force and velocity, CT-312 went straight for the Trooper in the middle of formation. Closing the distance within a few arms length, her gloved hand snapped back behind into a fist. Shhnnk. A vambrace blade housed in her gauntlet sprang free. At the same time her cloak disengaged, materializing CT-312 in front of the Trooper.
CT-312’s left hand grasped out forward to grab hold of the Trooper. Her right hand thrust the blade forward, aiming to plunge through the Trooper's chest plating with the repulsor-driven momentum.
Caligo’s appetite for destruction bore down on her, and this time… CT-312 did not resist it as she let the sensations washed over her.
I'm big dumb, don't look at me its just spelling and grammatical fixes
At the very least, the clone had pronounced her name correctly. That was a positive development, suggesting that the squad as a whole would be competent enough to understand and act on her premonitions. The success of the mission ultimately hinged on that ability, in addition to the seer’s own responsibility to transmit her visions to her squadmates in a manner that was clear and coherent.
“Let me remind you all again, that everyone will be receiving select images of what I see in my visions via direct telepathic communion,” Daella explained. The seer had given the warning once during the pre-mission briefing, but felt compelled to repeat it just in case her words had been misunderstood. “I will be filtering my visions before transmitting them, in order to avoid overloading your minds. You will also receive telepathic warnings, if something is particularly acute.” She finished.
It was then that a notification appeared in Daella’s HUD, indicating that they were being routed to the flagship’s secondary hangar. Anticipating CT-312’s request, the seer immediately slipped into a trance, focusing her metaphysical sight on the vessel before honing in on the designated area. She tuned her farsight as if focusing a lens, at which point the hangar swam into crystalline clarity within her awareness.
“Ten stormtroopers, a scanning crew, sixteen technicians, and fifteen mechanic droids are waiting inside the hangar.” Daella stated. “The stormtroopers are on high alert and are waiting to receive us. Their squad leader is presently conferring the scanning crew.” She added, her features momentarily pale as a deep exhalation of pent-up breath slipped from her lips.
A few moments later, the shuttle’s interior shook as a blast rocked its frame. However, as they were only a few thousand meters from the magnetic field that separated the secondary hangar from open space, the shuttle slowed down, lurching under deceleration before touching down inside the bay. At that point, the small-statured seer unstrapped herself from the seat and rose to her feet, her movements fluid despite the lingering tremor in the deck. All the while, BARCA’s live feed of the bay confirmed the veracity of her farsight-derived divinations.
A finding which Daella herself had never doubted.
A frown shifted her features when the clone announced a sudden change in plans. Still, the seer knew that she had to support. The shuttle’s ramp disengaged and began to lower as a smoke grenade was tossed through the widening gap. Thick smoke diffused across the deck in a billowing cloud, obscuring lines of sigh. Daella’s tri-spectral eyes pierced the haze with ease, allowing her to pick out the stormtroopers and technicians’ infrared signatures through the cloud. She knew that the clone trooper could do the same with her helmet, and doubtlessly Eira and Scherezade would have technology or an ability that would allow them to see through the smoke as well.
For now, they would not need her sight. Rather, they needed her vision.
Itzhal Volkihar
Niijima Izumi
Aether Verd
.
its just spelling and grammatical fixes
