Weekend Treasure Hunt 23: A Fistful of Denarii

[Kinsey Starchaser]

Corridor on the way to the Command Center

[member="Abric Korne"]

She felt the heat from the blast even from within the safety of the corridor. "The feth...," blue-eyes narrowed on Abric. Felt like being in the sanisteam too long. "Did you just...," booted-feet pushed onto her tippy-toes as she tried to peek around his shoulder. "Holy chit."

Her BB8 unit chirped sharply.

"Yeah I hope the shields held too, buddy. Yes I'm talking about the fighters and not just our ship." Arms-crossed stiffly as she regarded Abric. "Kinsey. That's Morris." Chin tipped to the droid. One thing Starchasers were good at besides the obvious of flying and space navigation? Navigating space stations. She knew where to go intrinsically and through the force.

Or perhaps it was a deeper call from one of the Lignan crystals.

"We'll get a better layout in the command center. You coming? If you are, just promise you won't karking blow that up too." Morris was already wheeling ahead. Kinsey quickly followed. Kriffin' pyros.

 

[Kiber_Thaxton]

#TeamLightSide

[member="Vassara Raxis"] [member="Olan Teff"]

Kiber prepared himself for battle. "Aye ma'am," he said over the comlink to Vassara as he checked his weapons - the trusty silenced disruptor pistol was in his right holster, and the double-barreled disruptor shotgun was in his left holster. The Mando could feel adrenaline flowing over his veins and said a silent battle prayer before making his way to the bridge. Vassara was a master at controlling Void Runner and pushing it to the limits. He felt the usual tingle when he stood next to her - a reminder of the lifelong thread she had used to connect to him a while back.

"So, we make a straight line for the control center and hold it for as long as we can?" he asked, looking at Denarii Station in the distance and then down at his holstered weapons; disruptor weaponry was known as the most lethal in the galaxy.

 

[Graze]

Graze nodded to the Herglic, then nodded to the bodyguards. "Men, let's move out." Head still pounding from the blast, he again raised his blaster and made his way through the doorway.

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Hasuras va-Agrel]

Corridor en route to the Command Center

​

..."Don't act like you're not impressed."...came the nonchalant remark made by the bearded man when Kinsey was busy peeking back around him and out of the corridor towards the hangar bay where the explosion had occurred. Abric could feel the heat of the explosion at his back in the corridor but he ignored it, seemed oblivious to it like to was something he'd experienced many times now. There was always a bit of vanity in the tone of Abric's voice; the man enjoyed his work whether that be with a blaster or as the case may be a flamethrower like he used now...

...catching the way Kinsey crossed her arms over her chest as she introduced herself and the droid Abric sensed she might not have appreciated the fireworks but what's done is done. Nodding his head he'd have said..."Of course I'm coming. I need to get paid."...if she knew how to navigate the corridors all the better and something told the Sun Guard that she might be able to use him if they ran afoul of trouble. Their Alliance, temporary as it may be might yet benefit the both of them before this adventure was done...

...Abric had begun down the corridor behind Kinsey and the BB8, Morris, when he thought he heard something and he turned to look back over his shoulder. "Go!"...he called to Kinsey and the Droid then he was swinging around to face the entrance to the corridor. Was it Graze and the Bodyguards? Impossible to say. Could be that Abric only saw a shadow and jumped rather than letting it get the drop on him too. Regardless the Incinerator Flamethrower was leveled ahead again...

...just like the last time it was fired a jet of flame shot out from the barrel of the flamethrower but unlike the last time the fire was concentrated in the confined quarters of a corridor ensuring that it was filled with fiery death that spilled back out into the hangar momentarily before getting swallowed back up when Abric decompressed the trigger. By the time the fire died out Abric had turned and was rushing behind Kinsey hoping to keep pace with her and the droid on the way to the Command Center leaving whatever hostile forces were behind them right there, still behind them in the Hangar Bay...​

​

[member="Kinsey Starchaser"] [member="Graze"]

 

[Isley Verd]

Hangar
#TeamMySide

For one so dark, his statement was oh so very polite.

Oh wait, he grabbed his saber. It was sarcasm.

From behind the durasteel of his mask, the Exile watched. He witnessed the slaughter that occurred without hesitation. Without remorse. Those who dared step into the Hangar in order to confront the intruders were promptly met by weapons fire from the Dark One's subordinates. Putting it simply, they died. They...never had a chance. That right there, it got the former Jedi's blood boiling. Ember was a good guy. He and his kin attempted to do what many would consider good. Hell, the only ones who would think differently were the sort of folks who made it a habit to beat the Republic down.

Yet once again, the agents of the Darkness were having their way. They cut a bloody swath through the Republic. They slapped aside any attempt of the Light to make a stand in the Galaxy. They were winning, aggressively, and this station was but another example of the unfortunate norm. No. Not today. Someone was getting a rather Jedi-like boot rammed firmly where the sun doesn't shine. "Well aren't you a gentleman?" came his snark-filled response. You could take the man outta Nar Shaddaa, but you couldn't take the Nar Shaddaa out of the man.

Josiah stepped closer...and was promptly thrown onto his back.

An explosion rocked the Hangar, sending debris scattering every which way. The force was more than enough to unseat the Exile...and move several hundred pounds of blubber across the way. With a grunt, Josiah managed to sit up in time to see the departure of the Whale's subordinates. That was the last thing he needed. Hell, that was the last thing the Station needed. I'll have to catch up with them later. he thought, pushing himself to his feet. The saber within his grasp was given a light flourish whilst his gaze settled upon the Dark One.

In that moment, the Exile began putting numerous things on a shelf.

He set aside his ambitions. His hopes. Dreams. Feelings. All that was, is, and would be known as Josiah Denko were secondary to the focus that he mustered. He was but an empty chalice: a vessel within which the Force entered. It crashed down upon him, preparing him for the Work that had to be done.

"You flew in here, blaring the codes of a nation that went into the night. In light of that...out of respect for someone who helped make that nation great...I'll give you one opportunity. Take your men, get back on your ship, and get the kark off this station."

There was no need for concluding the threat, because frankly Josiah highly doubted that his words would change what was coming. Dark Siders were greedy, self-centered individuals. Once they set their ambitions on something, it would take a lot more than a fair opportunity to leave to sway them. Fortunately enough, the two were standing in the midst of a hangar: a hangar filled with things Josiah could throw around. He was very good at throwing things around.

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

OOC:// Pardon the delay, I had to carve a turkey...and eat it. I'm fat guys.

 

[Mammut]

Orcus' question had been legitimate, but seeing as how he had not been the aggressor he believed this would prove interesting. Jedi and their ilk always had such misguided views of how the galaxy worked. Views that were often at odds with reality. For instance, a couple soldiers gunned down in the line of duty would be called casualties of warfare, but when a Sith or a Sith's underlings did it? Well then, it was an unspeakable atrocity. Nevermind the Graug genocide, or the sinking of Manaan's city. Sith were the evil here.

The thought almost elicited a trill of humor from the Sith Lord, but given the ruined state of his suit and the unwanted tirade from a masked nobody, he felt a sudden and growing sense of irritability.

"Oh? How gracious of you," the deep bass rumbled above the crackle of the TIE's burning wreckage, sonorous and oily. The sort of voice politicians and salesmen would kill for.

This humanoid seemed hell-bent on a fight. The irony of the situation was untenable, but Orcus had received the full dose of Jedi-flavored hypocrisy before. He thought he might be becoming immune to that sense of gut-wrenching nausea, up until the fury rose within him. A tremor ran through Orcus. Sinews flexed and rippled across a body that had once been fat with complacency and weakness.

The Force had set him free, as it would them all. He simply needed to remove a few obstacles in the path to galactic stability. People like this masked figure and the rebel soldiers. Their deaths were unfortunate, but ultimately necessary.

What a waste. If only they could see the futility of their actions. But no. Instead, they continued to finance terrorist operations in a desperate bid to create illusions of liberty and democracy. Hah. When had democracy succeeded in achieving unity and peace? One look at the so-called Grand Republic was enough evidence for him, but these petulant miscreants persisted with delusions of grandeur.

And so they would be removed.

The cetacean moved toward [member="Josiah Denko"] with ponderous strides.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I am Lord Orcus. And if you do not get out of my way I will also be your killer. "

The great saber sprang to life with a snap-hiss.

 

[Isley Verd]

Hangar
#TeamMySide

The Sith Lord began to speak and boldly stepped forward.

There was confidence in every step. Confidence that was born through a little something called survival. Josiah had heard the stories...every Padawan that once crowded around the halls of Tython had. Sith and their ilk were only out for themselves: always working towards advancing their own position in the Galaxy. When the opportunity presented itself, they would stab even comrades in the back. All in the pursuit of power. And this one? His steps spoke volumes. No hesitation. None whatsoever. This...Whale had survived, even despite being a Dark One.

"Well, Lord Orcus, I'd love to say it's a pleasure to meet you." Josiah began, unable to keep the sass from spewing. "My name is Josiah Denko."

And with that said, the time for words had concluded. The fingers of the Exile's offhand flexed, commanding that ambience that permiated the very cosmos. The Force bent to his Will, manifesting in that telekinetic might that he had become "known" for. This was the power that had defeated a Sith Emperor. This was the might that (temporarily) left one of the greatest duelists of all time with a limp. The explosion had painted the hangar with debris...and well, the Exile was going to let his creativity add to the burning work of art.

The Mask of the Exile was unwavering. Its gaze did not move from the being that approached so confidently. Yet Josiah could see...his peripheral view permitted him to witness the burning wreckage that would become his weapon. A wing. That was the start. A wing that had survived the crash and skidded to a halt within a Grip's range. The Force did the rest. It seized hold of the TIE Defender's appendage and yanked it with fervor. Burning. Hot. Twisted. What once stabalized an impressive vessel was promptly, and quickly, plucked from the ground and set careening towards the Whale's side.

And Josiah? He did not move. For him, all it took was supreme focus and a little bit of fingerplay.

He was watching. Waiting. He wanted to see what that confidence would produce. Would the Whale dazzle him with impressive strength? Would he get out of the way? Would he turn the opening number against its conductor? Only the next, precious seconds would tell.

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Mammut]

Hangar

Yes, a Sith Emperor had been defeated. Yes, a duelist's body had been broken, but those feats were not entirely Denko's to claim. If men were measured in the wreckage they left behind, then the Knight of Ren would find himself sorely indisposed.

The wreckage shrieked and groaned as lifted from the ground before hurtling toward Orcus, tongues of fire still crackling along its length. The Herglic Sith turned slightly, angling himself, but not slowing his slow plod. A one-handed slash from the great saber ripped the wing of the TIE in half in a display of casual strength. The two halves flipped past him, screeching across the hangar floor before they slid to a stop.

Sparks, flame and molten debris showered him. Pain flared in his senses as the scattered embers burned through the thin fabric of his upper shoulders and seared his flesh. Orcus waded through it, letting the pain feed his anger. He felt the welling of power within him, the feel of that hideous strength. The might of the oceans themselves, bound up in mortal thews.

"Denko, Denko," his disapproving voice rolled out above the screeching metal, above the pain. A storm cloud on the horizon.

His ponderous steps turned into a sudden sprint, faster than should have been possible given his size. Already close in proximity at the start, he crossed the remaining distance in an eye blink. The great saber crashed down toward Josiah in a diagonal, overhand blow, aiming to cleave the man from right clavicle to left hip. Any parry would meet with the atramentous brawn behind the blow. Human wrists would snap like shells beneath a pounding wave. Not a clean break, simply ground into oblivion.

[member="Josiah Denko"]

 

[Isley Verd]

Power.

Raw, unimaginable power displayed itself before the eyes of the Exile. What typical men would be unable to accomplish, this being did with what appeared to be ease. The carcass of the ruined TIE Defender, still alive with flame, had seen a wing torn from its body. It was hurled with great strength, only to be torn asunder by a single swipe of a mammoth saber. There was no grunt, nor any signs of physical exertion for that matter. Hell, it didn't even slow the Whale's approach down.

Can't stay too close.

The conclusion was brief. Simple. Absolute. This being was not one that Josiah could contend with on a level of physical strength. He was not one like Ashin, where at least there was some semblance of equality in the area of sheer physical strength. Rather, this behemoth was of Krag's archetype...and in that case, range was typically the answer. With a strategy in mind, Josiah heard the chiding words of the Sith.

And then there was movement.

The Dark One was fast. Faster than what his weight alluded to. He made a swift and powerful cut down, attempting to cleave deep into the Exile. Rather than attempt a parry or any form of saber defense, Josiah relied upon the Force. It augmented the strength of his muscles, seeped deep into his bones, and afforded him the pace to evade certain demise. He dove, plain and simple, out of harm's way.

Well, not completely. The saber caught a glancing blow upon his flank as he moved, singing through the zeyd-cloth and penetrating the light plating underneath. The result was a burn. Nothing that would take him out of the fight, but a burn nonetheless. However, the Force-assisted leap had managed to fling him a solid distance away from his opponent; almost as if they were back to square zero. Yet this time, Josiah had something bigger in mind.

So he could take a wing? Fine.

A breath was sucked in and the Force responded. His hands thrust forward, guiding the ambience according to his will. This time, telekinetic force exploded forth: a wall of might unseen by the naked eye. It burst across the space between the combatants and was upon the whale in the blink of an eye. This Push was the sort that could send a Starfighter skidding and would hopefully have no problem hoisting a being of the Whale's stature. At best? The impact alone would shatter bones and send the Dark One hurtling into the starfighters arranged behind him.

And at worst? Well, he already beast-moded a Starfighter wing...

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Graze]

Corridor en route to the Cantina

Turning into the corridor, Graze swept his cold gaze over its length, calculating his next move. The hallway was empty, as he and his companions had entered a different one than [member="Abric Korne"] and [member="Kinsey Starchaser"] , so he moved cautiously forward. His gargantuan size made sneaking difficult, but he had used the skill often enough to be able to walk with mostly silent footsteps. Turning his head slightly as he walked, he addressed Koh, the closest of the two Herglics.

"Bring out the map of the station...And quickly. We need to see where this terrorist harridan is hiding and capture her before she can cause more damage."

"Yes, Sir," Koh said, pulling a small paper from his pocket and examining it. "Here it is, Sir. The Cantina is located somewhat near to here. We simply need to follow this hallway and we should arrive rather quickly."

"Likely not as quickly as we'd like," Graze replied as he shot a guard who had run around a nearby corner. The man was thrown against the far wall by the force of the blast, his knees crumpling beneath him. He had likely been heading to help defend the landing bay. Graze predicted more guards would probably be soon to follow. "Keep your senses alert and your blasters loaded and ready," he told the Herglics. "We don't want to be taken by surprise."

 

[Haytham Kaze]

Location: Headed to Hangar

[member="Olan Teff"] - [member="Ashtah Ordo"] - [member="Kiber Thaxton"]

Where they were going? Haytham had no idea. Okay maybe he did, Denarii Nebula or something like that heading to the space station's namesake. If he were to be told to find it on a Galaxy Map he'd have no idea as to where to start looking. Bending his arm at the elbow, a gloved hand pushed through the locks of ebony hair that fell over his forehead and shielded one of his eyes.

The whole situation seemed pretty intense, but he had learned at the beginning of his training with his first Master, [member="Kiskla Grayson"] how to meditate on the Force in intense situations like this one. Then he had been focusing on the loss of life, but still it wasn't that hard to filter out the useless noise from what useful information he did gather. Clenching those gloved hands together, a hand subconsciously lowered to his lightsabre hilt and brushed upon the familiar ever so slightly curved handle, that he proficiently used Makashi and Djem So with.

He found solace in it.

He was outside of the cockpit, he had found a chair a few metres away from the door so that if it were required [member="Vassara Raxis"] could find himself easily. He did his best to not bounce about in the chair, just as the ship started to beep.

What was that?

If they were going to blow up, at least it would be quick.

 

[Tanith Alde]

Credits.

Credits motivated the galaxy.

Credits were why Vincente was now crawling throuh a duct

Credits where why that duct would lead him to a Command Center

Credits where why that command center was filled with sith corpses to plunder

Credits where why Vincente was in this whole mess to begin with

Credits where what was going to get Vincente out of this whole mess as well

Credits where why he ignored the shard of shrapnel lodged in his leg from the explosion

Credits where why he now peaked the end of the air duct, and the prize that awaited him inside

 

[Mammut]

Inside the hangar...

The tug of contact elicited a grin from the son of Giju. Nothing more than a scored touch, but he'd marked his prey, put the fear in him. Orcus could smell that fright, raw and primal, seeping off this Denko in waves. He reeked of it. The Sith Lord drank deeply, filling lungs with the scent of terror. Relishing in the hunt. But he wanted more. He wanted to feel bones snap, cartilage tear and flesh rip. He wanted to taste the blood of his foe as he tore him apart. The fear mixed with the pain from his burns and this new sadistic avarice, forming a cresting wave that pushed him forward.

Orcus turned, eyes alight with the fury and the foam, following Denko's diving roll only to be met by the sudden telekinetic blast that ripped out form the human. The eight hundred pound Herglic anchored his feet and hunched his shoulders, meeting force on force. The telekinetic wall slammed into Darth Orcus like a runaway freight tram. It picked him up and hurled him through the air. He came down hard, slamming into the cold permacrete with enough force that the hangar deck trembled.

For a moment, nothing, then he rose, pushing himself to his feet with one flipper. The arm holding the great saber hung awry, bent at an odd angle. He glanced at it, reached over, and relocated the shoulder with a loud pop.

Eyes of fathomless darkness turned toward [member="Josiah Denko"]. The Sith Lord inhaled deeply, expanding massive lungs. The great maw of the behemoth opened and let loose an unnatural shriek that went on and on, rising in pitch until it reached a sub-audible frequency. No Force Bellow, but a variant of the Ssurian Scream. Natural affinity paired with scholarly research and years of practice allowed him the capability to exert sound frequencies with rather interesting results.

Infrasound refers to sound waves beneath 20hz, below the range of human hearing. Natural occurrences, like thunder and earthquakes can involve infrasound. Mammals, such as whales, use infrasound to communicate and to hunt. The tiger's roar is not simply a primal cry, but an intricate biomechanical weapon used to stun the prey. How is it stunned? Because infrasound waves can have harmful effects on the body itself.

For instance, the now inaudible shriek Orcus was unleashing had now reached the infrasonic range. It didn't particularly matter that Josiah Denko had a mask on, because hearing had very little to do with what was about to happen to him. His body was about to be bombarded by waves of infrasound at 140dbs. The results would not be fatal, but they would include certain adverse reactions. He would likely feel a pulsing sensation against his chest, much like one feels when the bass is cranked too loud in the land speeder. Only this sensation would quickly be accompanied by nausea, vomiting, bowl spasms, and loss of balance. All of it due to sound waves bombarding the body and thus, again, not counteracted by hearing protection. Of course, the helmet did nullify effects on the ears themselves, which was quite an advantage. Even so, Denko would find himself in sore straits. Not taken out of the fight, but perhaps momentarily stunned as his bodily functions revolted.

At the very least, soiled pants and a helmet full of vomit would make the fight far more uncomfortable for the Knight of Ren.

As a telekinetic, he had a variety of options at his disposal with which to counter these infrasonic waves. Of course, that would be to assume he even knew what was happening, or how.

In any case, Orcus didn't waste time guessing at his response. Instead, he lumbered forward at a run, infrasonic shrieks still emanating from his mouth, hoping to stun his opponent while he closed the gap between them. Fortunately, he hadn't been thrown very far. The great saber swung again, hissing toward Denko in a mid-level thrust.

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

Entering Command Center

[member="Abric Korne"]

"I know Morris, he's really trigger happy," she kept running, thankful she hadn't chowed down on those pizza sticks before this expedition. Two rights and a left. Another left. Another left.

Morris warbled a low-warning. A prone black-booted limb stuck out from the command room. The door kept trying to close but would bounce back with a gentle whir each time it hit the unmoving body part. The lights flickered and smells of burning flesh wafted to her nose. The teen grimaced, blaster-arm raised.

Palm pressed down on the door switch to keep it open as she peeked cautiously inside. Several bodies added to the one in the door, draped around the command center controls. All unmoving.

"Looks like they were sith," she whispered to Abric.

A shiver went down her spine.

Not so long ago, she would've been one of them. Could've been one of them.

 

[Hasuras va-Agrel]

Command Center

​

...following Kinsey made navigating the interior of the Space Station much easier than if he'd have done it on his own. Abric figured that with her as his innate guide he'd cut his travel time in half at a minimum. Noteworthy in itself. When he followed her around a corner the bearded man would first notice how Kinsey had paused and then look beyond her to see the boot protruding out of the doorway leading into the command center. Abric approached once Kinsey had activated the door controls ensuring they remained open via an interide overlock instead of continuously attempting to close only to be foiled...

...coming closer Abric, dressed in his Sun Guard Armor and toting the Incinerator Flamethrower would cant his head inside and note the corpses of several others then he would hear the girl..."Only men all the same."...came his reply before he proceeded into the room with caution. Inside the Control Center he could take a closer look at the corpses, several of which were splayed across the floor and others which had draped themselves across control terminals when they had fallen. Abric would shake his head slowly as he took stock of the situation before remarking..."We should be able to see the whole station from here."...

...the first order of business was to move closer to a control terminal, reaching out Abric took the body of a Sith who had fallen across it and jerked him backwards until he fell prone onto the floor. Lifeless it looked like. Kneeling down close to the body Abric would set the flamethrower he'd been carrying against the terminal before running his hands over the corpse, frisking it and checking it for anything of interest or value..."Go on."...he said to Kinsey..."Take a look and see what you can find."...then he would conclude his search of the body. A Lightsaber was discovered. Abric took the weapon in his right hand, held it up to admire it and then nodded to himself several times. Decent find, he'd keep it...

...the man hadn't noticed anything besides the obvious. Thus far his eyes hadn't veered to the air ducts considering that it hadn't occurred to him as high priority to check them. Once Abric finished with the corpse of the Sith he'd stand, move towards the control terminal and begin to move his hands over the console he found attempting to access various holofeeds..."Find anything?"...he'd have asked while fiddling with the console...​

​

[member="Kinsey Starchaser"] [member="Vincente Aulisi"] [member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

[member="Abric Korne"]

Kneeling down next to one of the...sith? Yeah, definitely sith shot with a bunch of holes, the toe of her boot hit a fallen lightsaber hilt. Fingertips brushed over the cylinder. For some reason, this one felt familiar. There was something through the force she had never felt before around a lightsaber and it was weird enough to make her clip the hilt to her belt.

Seemed wrong taking something from a dead guy.

Her BB8 unit nudged into her hip gently. "Yeah Morris. I know." Blue-gaze snapped up, turning away from the dead and to Abric. "Nothing that we don't already see." She made her way to look over Abric's hunched form at the station feeds. "Find anything on the screens? Maybe we can figure out what those sith in the hangar wanted."

It was clear it wasn't them. The explorers, salvagers, teen and beard-man.

 

[Hasuras va-Agrel]

Command Center

​

...dead men didn't need what they had anymore. Beard Man didn't have the same reservations about lifting his lightsaber off the corpse of the dead sith as Kinsey did. Abric was busy hunched over the console, reviewing holofeeds when Kinsey had joined him and when he heard her question he'd have answered..."Maybe. Take a look."...he'd have moved aside so that Kinsey could take a closer look at the screens then and examine the different feeds he'd tapped into...

...the holofeeds were straightforward. The Hangar Bay was prominently featured in the feeds allowing the two of them to view the battle between the Hergalic and the other Force User, Abric couldn't tell much about him. A side panel showed a feed of the Medical Center and Main Engineering. Abric would nod..."Looks like there are survivors."...motioning towards the panel that viewed Main Engineering..."Probably barricaded themselves behind debris and set up a defensive position."...then he would gesture to the holofeed viewing the Medical Center..."Some fighting still happening there. Looks like the Sith are winning."...an educated assumption considering the feed showed lightsabers flashing and bodies dropping alongside stray blaster bolts and blood splatter on the floors and wall...

...Abric's attention seemed to linger on the Hangar Bay where he'd watch the two force users doing battle before he'd grunt and ask..."Don't know the other guy do you?"...Kinsey seemed like a good kid, she hadn't gotten in his way and beyond initially pointing a blaster at him Abric had nothing to hold against her. That said he was considering something that she might not like...​

​

[member="Kinsey Starchaser"]

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

[member="Abric Korne"]

She stepped in, nudging past Abric's larger form as he made room. The teen squinted at the screen, a frown drawing down her full-lips. Uncle [member="Coren Starchaser"] would probably try to help those people trapped. Especially if they were Underground members. But she didn't really have the resources or the means. She just had beard-man. The flame thrower was pretty sick. Maybe they'd have a chance...

Index-finger tapped the monitor.

"No. Don't know either of them. Hard to tell with that mask, though. Still, I don't think a lot of Alliance members run around wearing masks."

Blue-gaze shifted to the corner.

"Thank the stars you didn't blow up all the fighters though. Look." Pinky pointed to the corner of the screen. Looked like a few weren't burning. At least not yet. "I wish we could kriffin' help those people out in Engineering. Thoughts?"

The selfish part of her still wanted a ship. DUH.

 

[Hasuras va-Agrel]

Wreaking Havoc from the Command Center

​

...the Bearded Man was a Mercenary, he'd spent time in the service of the old Imperial Remnant under the command of Admiral Aritus but that was all done with now. As it happened Abric found it disturbing that standing beside the girl he was actually considering helping her but maybe rough around the edges as he was the man wasn't completely bad. No, he was just rough and grizzled as the case may be. Raising the gauntlet of his right hand Abric would rub the thick countenance of his beard and then..."I might have an idea. It might give us control of the station again."...meaning himself and Kinsey and nominally the Rebels as the case may have been...

...the Holofeeds recording the Medical Center and Main Engineering were brought into focus, the Hangar Bay was minimized into a side panel. Accessing the latent controls of the console Abric would have muttered under his breath..."Lets see what we can do."...understand that the Bearded Man isn't a slicer by any means nor can he encode a computer system and lock out access if someone knows how to gain it from a remote system but being in the Command Center did have its perks. Alright first they'd need protection...

..."If you don't mind girl?"...he'd have said in a rough voice before gesturing over to the body whose boot was still protruding out of the door that lead into the Command Center. Once that was out of the way Abric could seal the doors and make them accessible from the inside. It'd provide a modicum of protection for the both of them at least. Then it was on to the meat of the matter...

...the systems governing a Space Station were countless beyond what Abric knew so he looked for the most basic routes of access. Ventilation and life support systems. Singling out several areas Abric would do his best to cut ventilation and air circulation around the Medical Center with the intent that the Sith there would suffer from a decrease in oxygen levels and might need to withdraw as a result. Main Engineering was a different conundrum. Abric couldn't very well lower the oxygen levels there and save the Underground Rebels. Instead he'd access the doors and seal non essential corridors in an attempt to create a bottleneck that would feed attackers into Main Engineering under a straight line which had the potential to make an assault costly at least...

..."Done what I can. It's up to the Rebels now."...he looked at Kinsey..."Don't be a hater after this."...wait what did he mean? The Bearded Man's hand wavered over the console and brought the Hangar Bay into prominence. There was one more loose end to tie up....​

​

[member="Kinsey Starchaser"]

-----------------

...the Hangar Bay, according to a holofeeds view anyways, looked like it was steadily transforming into a warzone. Engaged in combat one had to wonder if the Herglic or Knight of Ren would even realize that the blast doors leading out of the Hangar were systematically sealing. One by one each of the doors would close sealing the both of them into the Hangar Bay, cutting them off from the rest of the Decarii Station and that wasn't even the worst of it...

...an alarm, loud and unmistakable was heard. The Comms system in the Hangar Bay blared loudly and lighting dimmed until only emergency lighting remained bathing the hangar in a dull red glow. It went on like this for several seconds. As long as it took to deactivate the Force Field securing the Hangar Bay and when that went down everything inside was introduce to the vacuum of space. Starfighters in to be retrofit or repaired were likely locked down via docking clamps, etc but everything else felt a sudden vacuum the likes of which was impossible to describe. Debris, unsecured ships and people were the most likely things to be vented into space...

...of course Abric was no slicer, there were emergency protocols in place to ensure that in the case of life detection the force fields would engage themselves again and void the vacuum of space. It only took anywhere from fifteen to a thirty seconds in most cases...​

​

[member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Josiah Denko"]

 

[Graze]

Corridor en route to the Cantina

Flashes of light danced across the walls of the hallway; Koh and Lahn had taken aim with their arc casters and shot at ten guards who had engaged them in combat. Bluish-white lightning arced from one man to another, each weapon stopping the hearts of four men in their prime. The remaining two, having been spared the white hot torrent of electricity flooding through their muscles, simultaneously fired their weapons. The first was aimed at Graze, who raised his arm as a shield and barreled forward with his teeth bared. The second man, less inclined to become the shark's main course, had decided that whale was a much finer delicacy.

Squeezing the trigger, the guard fired off a few quick shots. Koh avoided the blasts, but Lahn wasn't as fortunate. Five bright beams arrowed toward him, spearing into the armor covering his chest. The Herglic bellowed in agony, and his scream echoed through the corridor. Koh form shook as he released a roar of his own and fired at his partner's attacker. The guard crumpled, the limpness of his body a devastating echo of Lahn's own figure. Koh ran to his friend, but it was too late. He was already gone.

Meanwhile, Graze fought the remaining guard. He had been winning, his strength overpowering the other male's frame, until Koh's scream of rage distracted him for a brief moment. In the instant that his attention shifted elsewhere, the guard slammed the butt of his gun into Graze's nose. Immediately, crimson streamed down to coat his mouth and teeth and then drip steadily to the metal floor. Stunned, Graze stumbled back, his eyes snapping to the other man's face. He could feel his composure beginning to slip, the echoes of his infamous rage threatening to ignite and destroy all who surrounded him. Struggling to calm himself, Graze quickly raised his blaster and released a shot that caught the man's shoulder. The force of the blast ripped through the joint, severing it in two and spinning the man around. He collapsed to the ground; his arm flew against the wall.

Stepping forward, Graze took aim once more and fired off a final shot. It was done. He could now re-focus his attention on the Herglics who had been placed under his command.