The Unholy Screams

[Placeholder 01]

Delam folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the durasteel bulkhead. All around him were travelers of various social levels. Some were tourists, others refugees, businessmen and so on. The crowd was varied at best and motley at worst. He fit in well here.

Clicking his tongue, Delam reached down for the datapad strapped to his wrist and ran through the data he'd procured for the third time since leaving Zenith Prime. The small walls of text were a library of information all their own, so massive that it would take a normal man weeks to peruse through their contents.

Fortunately, Delam knew what he wanted.

He scrolled through the many listings and categories until he found the records that he sought. An image of a vague ship eclipsed by an asteroid belt along with a box of text popped up on the screen. He narrowed his eye at the information and grumbled a curse under his breath. It seemed the probe droids had gathered more information than previously expected. That was going to be a problem if the men and women of Zenith Prime continued their perusal.

One of the aliens nearby leaned forward. The shifting of his eyes to the walls ahead did not hide his actions. The foul beast had been attempting to read what Delam had been looking at. The soldier could not contain the scowl that found its way upon his lips, nor could he refrain from flashing the horned animal a baleful glare.

The creature averted its gaze.

"This Ambria can't be far," he growled, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep any others from snooping at his datapad. He had just parted his lips to utter a curse when the entire shuttle shook.

"Damnit all!" He snarled, gripping one of the nearby chairs that had been bolted to the floor so hard that his knuckles turned white. Bodies slammed against one another and screams made it impossible to hear whatever was being said over the intercom.

Then the shaking stopped.

Was it turbulence? Such things were rather common on the life ship the empire's people had used to enter this galaxy. Delam furrowed his brow as he reached for the compact rifle held housed within his coat. Something was off here.

He turned to the horned alien to speak when the lights flickered. A child a corridor down screamed. The sound of flesh being rent apart, like a butcher carving through swine, drove the rest of the crowd into lunacy. Delam slipped his rifle out from its nestling place in his jacket, not caring who saw him armed.

The ripping sound came louder this time, and close too. People trampled over one another as they fled toward the aft end of the vessel, not caring who they crushed in their flight. Delam pressed himself up against the wall and waited, his mass-rifle humming as it came to life.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Meanwhile, within the life support control rooms of the vessel, a chase ensued. The Duros black market dealer knew he could get an absolute fortune selling this sample of some ancient plague he knew bloody well nothing about to some Hutt collector. He dipped around a reactor and quickly sprinted down a hallway, only to find himself at a dead end. "Sithspawn." Spat the azure skinned creature as his pursuer quickly closed in on him.

Jedi Knight Vorian Adasca advanced, emerald lightsaber shimmering as he held it within the standard opening stance of Soresu. The Duros felt a tangible tingle of fear travel throughout his body as his back literally hit the wall -- nowhere else to flee, and staring at the prospect of decades of imprisonment for the illegal dealing of banned items. "Please, surrender. You'll be given a fair trial." Pleaded the Arkanian. Vorian would have simply used the force to restrain the male into submission, he had not feared the consequences of the vial shattering. The Duros spotted a vent and with it, hope rekindled. "To blazes with your 'fair trial!'"

With little other choice, Vorian began to lace his words with the irresistable persuasion of the force. "I would highly recomm--" Apparently, the Duros had developed a resistance or some sort of training to Jedi techniques. "Agh! Your damned magic!" In a panicked rush, the Duros kicked in the vent and dove inside. Vorian rapidly sprinted to the vent and peered down it's length. The man must have horribly misjudged the fall, for he landed with a sickening crunch, unleashing the Rakghoul virus into the ship's air vents.

Vorian's eyes widened, first with the sharp stab of guilt for failing to save the Duros life and potentially everyone abroad and then the far more immediate, primal concern of self preservation. Reaching into his Jedi robings, the Arkanian unveiled a simple mask that he fitted around his features. On a mission dealing with hostile diseases, he had of course, taken the proper precautions. Without further delay, he quickly made post-haste for the Captain's Cabin to warn the crew and the passengers of the disease...

Several hours later, the Jedi Knight found himself sprinting down a hallway, desperately attempting to escape a tide of mutated flesh.

[member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Placeholder 01]

It took only a moment for the entire ship to go dark.

Delam clenched his teeth as he flicked the low-light setting on his cybernetic eye. Vision came to him once again, bathing the world in whites and grays. He leveled his rifle and drew back agains the bulkhead, watching as the last passenger within this chamber of the ship filtered up toward the bridge. None remained, save for the trampled and wounded. Delam gave those around him only passing glances. He was no medical specialist, nor would he have left himself open to help them if he was.

Rip.

The sound reminded him of a sleeve being torn off to become makeshift gauze. With it came a quiet splattering, as if someone had spilled a bucket of water over the sodden floors. The familiar coppery scent of vitae filled Delam's nostrils and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Whatever was aboard this ship, it had a taste for blood.

He resisted the urge to call out and stepped toward the sounds. The chamber was a large room that tapered off at the end into a narrow corridor. It was from that corridor that one could enter the aft levels of the ship. It was from that corridor that Delam heard the screaming. The sound was pure agony. A child or some small alien was the source, of that much he was sure. He muttered a curse under his breath and the sounds abruptly stopped. Any of the beings still conscious within the chamber fell silent.

The figure that flew out through the door was not what Delam had expected. It was a man, white of hair and pale of skin. The soldier furrowed his brow.

"What's going on back there?" He snapped, his weapon trained on the man.

Something leaped out from behind the stranger, The beast was vaguely humanoid of shape. Its skin was milky white and barely contained the rolling muscles within. Its single black eye squinted in the dark. The heavy scent of gore and viscera hung off the beast like a foul perfume.

It screeched and slammed its claws into the nearest survivor's chest. The woman howled, only to be silenced by a follow-up strike that neatly tore her head from her shoulders.

Delam did not hesitate. The mass-driver rifle roared as it fired a massive round into the monster's chest. Its rib cage exploded, sending vitae and bone shards all across the room. The creature had not even hit the floor before more of the devils came pouring out of the corridor.

Delam trained his rifle on the hole and squeezed the trigger. The monsters were torn to bloody ribbons, but for each one that fell, another managed to climb over the growing pile of corpses. A number managed to disperse around the room, some claiming wounded victims and dragging them off to corners to feast, others charging their attacker.

Steadily, Delam strode back toward the adjacent corridor.

"Alien filth!" He snarled. He allowed himself to be so caught up in the slaughter that he did not notice the massive pearl skinned animal stalking up behind him...

[member="Vorian Adasca"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Vorian peered to his man with his hands firmly grasped around some sort of primitive ballistic weapon. The man was clearly a veteran soldier, with the lean, brawny look of surviving numerous campaigns with the scars to match -- and certainly, he did not give up that eye willingly. "What's going on?" Demanded the soldier, but just as Vorian opened his mouth, a sharp tingle ran throughout his body. Even with the aid of force sense, Vorian could had hardly reacted to the gruesome sithspawn beast that had manifested behind him seemingly out of some nightmare. The Jedi Knight's face turned a shade of green as he watched with slack jawed terror as the creature remorselessly tore apart a screaming woman, paying no heed to her sobbing pleas for mercy.

Sapped of morale more effectively than any usage of Dun Moch the usually calm and collected Jedi Knight shakily lifted his shimmering emerald lightsaber as the beast flickered the two black pits that were his eyes onto the thin, wiry Jedi that stood before it. Just as it was about to strike, an air-rippling boom sounded a few feet behind Vorian, and in the very next moment the creature's torso exploded in a shower of gore and ichor. Vorian lifted his arm and shied away, taking precaution not to become infected from the beast's bodily material.

Not only did this scarred veteran not hesitate, but howled his hatred of the 'Alien filth' as he emptied out shot after shot into the seemingly endless hordes. Behind him, a thinner but clearly cleverer Rakghoul crept upon him. Vorian could not let the man be sliced into pieces after he so valiantly saved his life when he could have simply taken to his heels. Inhaling the rotting stench of the ship, Vorian regained his composure and allowed the force to flow. A flash of emerald tore through the air, rending apart the anticipation-raised forearm of the beast. Vorian called the lightsaber back to his palm as the creature screeched, staggered backwards and nursed it's wound. One more 'experienced' than him, would have immediately followed up with a finishing blow. But the Arkanian Jedi still lacked the raw instincts of a killer. Even with feral creatures such as this, where it may have been a mercy to simply put them out of his misery, Vorian couldn't quite bring himself to slay. Perhaps a spark of humanity still resided within the mutated husk of that creature?

Extending a pale arm as the man continued to empty round after round into ravenous beast behind him, Vorian wrapped the invisible tendrils of the force around the wounded Sithspawn. His brow furrowed in concentration as he simultaneously contained the struggles of the creature, and with his free hand, opened a storage door. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the creature into the room and immediately closed it. Allowing the force to flow outwards and guide him, Vorian leapt over several of the creatures to a nearby control panel. Quickly, he slammed a emergency button, prompting bulkheads to slam down on either side of the two, enclosing the corridor and preventing, if only for now, the relentless advance of the creature.

Inhaling and exhaling heavily, Vorian glanced to the soldier. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, a flood of vomit at the sight of the carnage flowed.

The Jedi Knight heaved and wretched for nearly five minutes straight.

[member="Delam Mairev"]