Weekend Treasure Hunt 23: A Fistful of Denarii

[RC 212]

[member="Olan Teff"] [member="Haytham Kaze"] [member="Kiber Thaxton"]

Location: In the Hangar
As soon as the Void Runner was in range Vassara reeled back on the levers, engaging massive reverse burn. For a ship going inside an artificial gravity field traveling full speed it was a difficult feat. Her focus shifted, from the astrogation to the simple hoping that they would survive the landing. Metal hull screeched and groaned under the stress, shaking the vessel to it's very bones. As the ray shield dissipated across the hangar it was a nasty shocking surprise to Vassara.

Someone was locking down the hangar as well!

"Oh hell no...."

Before her eyes two figures were locked in battle. Sith troopers and Underground resistance fighters lay strewn about the place, bodies hitting the deck in droves. These were her people, men and women she had fought with on countless worlds. Being wantonly slaughtered, by none other than the Sith.

She was up and moving as the vessel touched down. She strode back into the ready room, emerging with three space suits and tossed it to each of her companions. Kiber was here, Olan and Haytha. Haytham was a new arrival, as of yet untested in battle before her eyes. As for Kiber she'd witness him hold his own in the battle of Mandalore just recent. Olan, he was a spacer and becoming quite the veteran.

"Throw these on, weapons ready!"

They were tight fitting, as to allow dexterity in the void but still functional. Vassar slid into her own suit, zipping the blue flightsuit shut and snapped her helmet over it. It was a relic, something from her days of flying freighters for a shipping company on Alderaan. That was before the war, but it still fitted its purpose.

With a slap of the airlock it began to cycle open, ramp extending. Down she walked, force drawn about her, black metallic cylinder in her hand.

"Haytham, stay close to me. Kiber and Olan, blow the blast doors and get to the command center. There are still files on other bases and agents in the mainframe. I don't have time to explain it fully. Destroy them, all of it."

The saber activated, snapping to life in an orange blaze. From across the hangar the young Mandalorian warrior faced down the two in their duel. She slipped into the force, calming her mind again, steeling her nerves. As her focus grew so did her trance. She was lost, lost in the throes of the meditation, letting the force dictate her actions. Deep within battle meditation all sense expanded and actualized in crystal clear perfection. All focus came to a single narrow point in her mind. It cried one thing.

Kill the Sith....

 

[Kiber_Thaxton]

[member="Olan Teff"]

Kiber grabbed Olan by the shoulder. "Come on!!" he shouted, as he made his way over to those blast doors. He'd experimented with some high explosive rounds that would be more than enoiugh to get through the doors into the command center. He gave Olan a handful of these rounds and loaded them into his blaster rifle. "These babies can get through anything bud!" he said to Olan with a grin, as the Mandalorian bounty hunter took aim and fired at the first door - there was a loud explosion and then, as the smoke cleared, a large hole had been created, large enough for them to get through. "Now you have a try spacer," he said with a smirk, keeping a watchful eye on Vassara and the Sith.

You can do it Vassara, I believe in you...

 

[Isley Verd]

Hangar
#TeamMySide

At a glance, the offense worked out better than anticipated.

The Dark One met the wall of telekinetic fury head-on, an act that spoke volumes of his character. Fearless. Confident. As anticipated, he was then plucked from his previous position and sent hurtling back through the air, only to land with a tremendous thud. Josiah felt that one. The impact sent pronounced vibrations rippling through the duracrete underneath his feet. Hell, it seemed as though the landing shook the whole hangar. But that wasn't going to be enough to keep the Whale down. If anything, it was going to drag some more fight out of him.

He stood up. Licked the relatively minor wound inflicted by the impact...and then did something rather unexpected.

His mouth opened and out came a piercing shriek. It was loud, vastly so, and seemed to grow in pitch until...silence? That alone was enough to solicit an ever-so-slight elevation of a brow. What the- thought the Exile...until the sensation hit him. His stomach immediately did a somersault, as if he had suddenly decided to gorge himself on the "fine" cuisine of Nar Shaddaa. His head felt thick; the sort of thick that made sobriety tests so difficult.

This was an unconventional assault, one born and shaped by the Dark One's experiences. He had taken the months...nay yeaes to hone his natural affinities into the weapon brandished against the Exile. In truth, the average man would have been blind. Helpless, even. Such an assault would have been more than enough to overwhelmingly shift the tides of battle. Yet the Whale was not the only soul aboard the vessel who had been shaped experience into a weapon.

In fact, he was about to learn the reason why Josiah dubbed himself an Exile.

For most, the formerly-audible shriek that sang from the Whale's mouth was simply noise. Yet Josiah knew better. He had been taught better. What would normally be perceived as an unsavory din was actually very similar ripples upon the surface of water. Waves, to be precise. Just as experience had shown the Dark One to produce these waves, years within the deep of Manaan had shown Josiah how to use them. He was uniquely sensitive to the ambience of waves. He was taught to feel them, to harness them, and to use them as a means of pushing the very world.

Yet here, aboard something man-made, such an ambience was not present. A Station did not have the essence of natural humming underneath its duracrete and durasteel. It did not have natural waves permeating throughout. It was silent, vastly so, until the Whale opened his mouth.

Oh yes, there was nausea. Oh yes, there was a hot mess making itself known from both ends. But whilst he was reduced to one knee, Josiah used what little center remained in order to turn the tide. The sound which battered him were met by something inspired by the Mother Ocean herself. By the Force was the shriek itself seized, the energy of its waves harnessed, and its very essence used to bolster a single push. At that point, the Whale was already upon Josiah with saber moving in a thrust.

Reflex reared her ugly head, prompting his dominant hand to attempt some semblance of a parry. Plasma met plasma, yet the overwhelming strength of the Dark One would not be denied by reflex alone. The swift twitch of the Exile's muscles allowed him to divert the thrust away from the core of his mid section, but his flesh was tormented regardless. The crimson blade burned again through the cloth and plating, creating a hot gash upon the side of his abdomin.

Yet in the process, that slight shift of blades allowed the offhand to move forward. The empowered push exploded forth, blasting from the Exile like a cannon. It was directed point-blank at the Whale and boasted the same bone-crushing might as before. If this were a bout upon the soil of an actual world, the strength of the augmentation would have been vastly stronger...but when the sole source of said bolstering was the Dark One's own assault, the result was comparable to what he had already endured. Albeit at a much closer proximity.

At best? The impact penetrate the blubber and wreak some sort of havoc upon the Whale's bones...whilst creating some much needed space between the two.

At worst? C'mon, he already made the dude crap himself. Could it get any worse?

Oh look, a new arrival!

Normally this would be the part where Josiah said something, but since he had just been stabbed and had a helm-full of gross to deal with, he settled for staying on his knee. Gasping. But hey, hopefully she would go after the red lightsaber and not the blue one?

[member="Hion the Herglic"], [member="Vassara Raxis"]

 

[Olan Teff]

[member="Vassara Raxis"] [member="Kiber Thaxton"] @Haythem Kaze

#TeamLight Side

Olan did as he was told once the ship screeched to a halt. Taking the suit and quickly putting it on between listening to Vass. Nodding his head a few times as he finished getting the suit on and the helmet with.

"Alright! We will take the center! And turn it to ashes."

And followed Kiber out, giving him a pat on the back as he raised his rifle up to engage any targets which would present themselves. Getting to the blast doors with ease. With a nod ofnthanks he took the supercharged pack of explosive energy cells and got away from the door. As Kiber fired, Olan did as well. The hole was more than big enough to fit them both through at the shoulder after emptying the cell into the door.

Unlike Kiber who spared a glance back at Vass as she engaged the Sith, Olan was eyes forward. Deftly he changed the cell out in his rifle as he neared the hole, peering back and forth to check their entrance for possible opposing forces, he shouted. "Clear!"

Dropping through the hole he kept his rifle up at the ready and motioned Kiber to come through as he covered both ends of the hall. Good thing too as several of the stations attackers came dwon from the far end, obviously trying to get to the Command Center like the two fighters.

On reflex Olan fired and took one of the armored troops down. The green blasts of energy from his rifle tearing through his target like knives through butter. Meanwhile the other two doubled back on the corner to get cover.

Fighting in a cover less hallway was not on Olans list of things to do before dying, so he reached for his satchel of explosives and tossed a round metal smoke grenade down the hall. Billows of black smoke filled the air where it went.

"We gotta go!" And began to quickly make his way down the hall, waving for Kiber to take lead as he fired back down the hall at the station attackers.

 

[Kiber_Thaxton]

[member="Olan Teff"]

Kiber took point and lead Olan through the maze of long corridors to the command center. "God, this reminds me of the time I had to chase a bounty through catacombs on Ryloth," he said with a laugh, as the Mando fired at anything that moved and was doing the opposite to them - the two fighters' enemies fell like flies and their dead bodies were soon piled high in the corridors. The spacer was giving a good account of himself and Kiber was glad to have him on his team.

"See if you can keep up spacer!" Kiber broke into a run and his scanner located the command center and showed it on his helmet HUD. "This way Olan, almost there!" he waved his black-gloved hand over where Olan was fighting and pointed to a long corridor with a blast door at the end. "This must be it then," he said quietly, as he slowly approached the blast door and then put his helmet against it, listening for any and all signs that people were inside.

 

[Mammut]

Raw telekinetic energy roared from Denko's palm and slammed into the alabaster torso of his Herglic foe. A dull crunch resounded from Orcus' ribcage and ripples spread outward across his blubber from the point of impact. He hurtled backward, tossed through the air once again like an eight hundred pound rag doll.

He never landed.

The blare of the hangar alarms sounded through his pain, rage and sudden confusion. Comprehension dulled by the agony of two broken ribs slowly dawned even as the ray shields vanished and the air left the hangar in a wild howl. The sound outclassed Giju's mightiest gale. Orcus found himself tumbling head over heels toward the emptiness of space. Debris from the ruined TIE defender flashed past him as the atmosphere of the hangar bled out into the void. The utter absence of air left him panicked. Terrified. He emptied his lungs, letting all the breath flow out of him. Any air still remaining when the hangar fully depressurized would rapidly expand, likely rupturing his lungs. An ugly death.

Suddenly, he glimpsed the Niathal, her form spinning, ramp lowering as she intercepted his trajectory. It was well that Darkwater Security maintained professional pilots as well as soldiers. These pilots, aware of the danger their employer was in, took action the moment the hangar atmospheric alarms blared.

Cold calculation temporarily replaced fury as Orcus fought for survival in the vacuum of the hangar. He used the Force to alter his momentum, to steady himself. Fifteen seconds. His mass, slightly stabilized, spun toward the open ramp of the Niathal. Beyond her he could see the formless Nothing, waiting for him should he fail.

Ten seconds. Orcus' lungs screamed for oxygen and he saw darkness closing on the edges of his vision. He felt like his body was on fire. Without the ray shield to protect him, rays of ultraviolet radiation from the nearest sun began to sear his skin.

He bumped into the Niathal's ramp and nearly spun off into damnation. Orcus' flippers scrabbled desperately for a hold on something, anything. The co-pilot appeared on the ramp in a suit sealed to vacuum and extended a hand. Orcus seized it and hauled himself onto the ramp, which had already begun to shut.

The Sith Lord's memory blanked for the next ten seconds as he lost consciousness.

In that space of time, the pilot in control of the Niathal banked away from the hangar, offering a few parting shots from the ventral auto blaster at [member="Josiah Denko"] before the shuttle veered off into space, circling the station.

"You require medical attention, m'lord."

Orcus arose, waving the co-pilot off even as he winced at his wounds. He pulled out an encrypted com link with a secure channel directly to Darkwater's Foreman. His words were breathless and punctuated by staccato pauses.

"[member="Graze"], the hangar has grown too perilous for extraction. We will meet you on the opposite side of the station for extraction via airlock K19, the one closest to the Cantina. Eliminate the Hapan if necessity demands, but capture is preferred. I will be at your location in ten minutes."

He clicked the com link off. "We still have the MA1 suit aboard?"

"Yes, sir."

"Help me put it on. Pilot, set a course for airlock K19."

[member="Vassara Raxis"] | [member="Abric Korne"]

 

[Graze]

In the still silence following Graze's final blast, two soldiers--Karkaradon and Herglic--mourned the loss of their brother in arms. He had entertained them on the flight over with stories of his misspent youth, and now the vitality he had once possessed was lost in the dark void of space. Graze bowed his head and spoke, his voice rough with grief.

"Koh, I'm sorry, but we can't do anything more for him. We must continue with our mission."

Koh looked up from the head he held cradled in his powerful flippers. Silent tears streamed from his face, which had been twisted into a frown. "Understood, Sir, but can't we take him with us? He wouldn't have wanted to be left alone on this cold ship. He would want his body to be returned to the water of his home world."

"We can try," said Graze, "But it will be difficult. It could slow us down, impede our progress on the mission. I understand the pain you feel, Koh; I feel it too. But we can't forfeit our mission today, or else his sacrifice will have been in vain. I leave the decision to you."

The Herglic returned his eyes to his friend, lapsing once more into silence as he contemplated their next action. In the hush, Graze's comlink crackled to life. Lord Orcus' voice came through.

"Graze, the hangar has grown too perilous for extraction. We will meet you on the opposite side of the station for extraction via airlock K19, the one closest to the Cantina. Eliminate the Hapan if necessity demands, but capture is preferred. I will be at your location in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir. We are very nearly to the Haplan's location. I will alert you regarding our dealing with her and meet you at the new location." He then addressed Koh once more. "It's your call. Do you bring him with us?"

"I would prefer to do so. I can carry him, Sir. It's no problem at all." "Good call, soldier. Let's finish our mission and get this Herglic to his home."

Their steps determined, the two members of Darkwater Security continued down the hall with Koh carrying Lahn's body over his shoulder. They were lucky enough to not meet further resistance on their way to the Cantina. Outside the door, they paused. "Koh, set Lahn over here," Graze said. "We will pick him up on our way to the Niathal. Haplans can be wily. We don't want to be hindered when we meet her."

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Isley Verd]

Hangar
#TeamMySide

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Bre-Nope.

In the wake of the telekinetic assault, the Exile took a moment to breathe through the pain. With each passing second, the wounds in close proximity of each other began to knaw at Josiah's focus. Of course, he had lived through worse scrapes...but not while a heap of hot mess laid within his helmet. Yet as he attempted to suck in another breath, the Exile noticed something alarming. His target was successfully flung back once again...but gravity did not seize him. What's more, there wasn't any air to breathe.

In fact, Josiah felt the hot sting of the oxygen being yanked out of his lungs.

Chit.

His eyes swept frantically about the hangar, seeking the means by which he entered the fray. Yet his vessel, the Aquila, was too far away to realistically get to. The Exile needed oxygen. Fast. And bounding halfway across the hangar wasn't an option at this point. So, he looked at the other options scattered about him. Starships that were waist deep in repairs. He wouldn't be flying off into a dogfight with any of those, but at least one of them had to have the ability to turn on.

He hoped.

Working past the pain, Josiah flung himself in the direction of the nearest starship. A hasty yank with the Force saw the cockpit open, inviting him to some semblance of salvation. The Exile moved his way in, slammed the cockpit shut, and frantically looked at the console before him. Time wasn't on his side, not by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, darkness was beginning to close in about his eyes. He just had to...There! Josiah quickly found the power and turned it on, praying that there would be air...and that the equipment attached to the ship wouldn't detonate.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

The ship was on, thankfully, and the atmosphere began to settle. Air was present, just as the darkness finished claiming Josiah's sight. He was out for a few moments...but finally gasped. That was way too close for comfort. Way too close.

So now the question was, what to do now? The Dark One had flown off it seemed. The newest arrivals did not reek of the Darkness as he did. Was this a sign that Ember's calvary had arrived? Did the Station have a fighting chance now? Decisions decisions...but the first course of action involved getting out of the Hangar. Maybe he could pursue the Dark One and finish what he started. As such, Josiah gripped the controls and goaded the ship up, up, and away.

[member="Hion the Herglic"], [member="Vassara Raxis"], [member="Abric Korne"]

 

[RC 212]

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

"Frak!"

The to had slipped away under her nose. Except that the dark one had a trail that was easy to follow. Almost to easy as the carnage he wreaked across the ship left a very specific force signature. Something that was very unique. Vassara closed her eyes, shifting focus from the battle meditation back towards seeking and feeling. Astrogation again came to the force , tracing the path in her minds eye.

Avenues opened up, to where he was. Paths and trails across the station shown to her and her mind traveled each path finding the shortest route. An access hallway leading to an elevator shaft that went three decks down to the next hangar. The hangar she could sense the Whale like abomination was headed towards.

With a burst of speed she charged through the hangar, making a quick exit. Blurring down the halls it was mere moments before she found the hallway. A black boot hit the dor to the maintenance shaft, smashing the locking mechanism open. She traversed it nimbly, dodging wires and pipes that rose from the floor as she ran, hair flying like a black flag behind her. The shaft came to sight and she jumped, lightsaber plunging into the wall to slow her fall.

Crimson moletn metal rained down the shaft as she slid, the exact amount of stories she needed and kicked off the wall, exiting the shaft onto the floor in a roll. She had to stop to catch her breath. Vassara was panting heavily, taxed heavily by the powers she was wielding. Still her focus was regained and razor sharp.

Ten meters to go to the next hangar.

Ten meters till a Sith met the bite of her orange blade...

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

Command Center

[member="Abric Korne"]

"Fething karking mother CHIT," Morris warbled and bumped into the backs of her legs disapprovingly. "Don't blame me, blame him." Finger pointed accusingly from the sealed door to the command center to Abric. Half the fighters were now floating pieces of scrap in space. There might be a few left that weren't ravaged in the purge. It was hard to tell from the hangar's feed.

But the whale-thing-guy was certainly gone. One good thing. Besides the time he bought for those holed-up in engineering. Blue-eyed gaze caught the outside feed to the center. A mandalorian...bounty hunter? The teen couldn't afford to find out with the bounty Sage Bane put on her dark-haired head.

"We gotta go," she pointed at the screen. Booted-foot kicked open a grate with a loud clatter along the back, side wall. She still thought of Abric as an ally and wasn't ready to just ditch him. "You think you can fit through here Abric?" Morris wheeled over. The same blaster that pointed in beard-man's face not so long ago pointed at the sealed blast door. She'd have his back even though he just destroyed one of her first loves: space ships.


[member="Kiber Thaxton"][member="Olan Teff"]

 

[Olan Teff]

[member="Kiber Thaxton"]

Olan did what he could to keep up. Chuckling at Kiber as he ribbed him a bit. Funny. He had at one point been on the other end of this man's weapon at one time not too recently.

Good times. Goooood times.


"Just keep moving, I will catch up eventually."

Meanwhile the memories of his recent foray dove back up to the fore of his mind, he was partaking in what he called a "defensive assault". Running some meters after Kiber and then stopping to fire on their pursuers. Then lay some explosives to catch them off guard.

The hallways were filled with the sound of screams and explosions each time. Until last to final. No explosion. No screams. It seems their pursuers are stopping to undo his trap or they were all dead.

Both options weren't that bad.

Though he was beginning to run out of laser tripwire explosives, he had a bunch of handheld goodies and a few door poppers.

Coming up to near Kiber as he said this may be where they need to be, he took up position on the other side of the door as Kiber listened. Opening up his satchel, he prepped the first popper for the door. The magnets on either end almost yanked him over towards the floor when testing it, but he remained upright.

"Let me know if I need to slap this on." keeping his voice quiet as he talked. Eyes back up to the area around them. Prepped to engage any targets that would crop up.

[member="Kinsey Starchaser"] [member="Abric Korne"]

 

[Mammut]

The 'next hangar' happened to not be a hangar at all, but a small auxiliary airlock. Additionally, all corridors leading out of the hangar had been sealed by blast doors due to [member="Abric Korne"]'s nefarious tampering, which was part of the reason for why Orcus had had to fly out of the hangar in the Niathal shuttle. The other part was, of course, the fact that the entire hangar had been rapidly depressurized.

Fortunately, the Niathal made it to airlock K19 in a bit under the ETA. Orcus used the transit time to prick his ribcage with a few combat stims to numb the pain. He also had the co-pilot help him into a suit of MA1 power armor; a feat which took nearly seven minutes to accomplish. While the armor provided him with a number of excellent advantages, it negated his ability to use the only real offensive Force powers he had at his disposal. Force Bellowing into the helmet would just turn his skull into jelly. It was the reason he had originally nixed the idea of wearing the armor into battle, but the mission parameters had changed. His tactics had to adjust.

Rather than docking with the airlock and rendering the shuttle a sitting duck, Orcus just had the pilots lower the ramp. He floated out into the void. The only sound within the helmet was his own breath. He clanked into the airlock, seized a handhold meant for outer station repairs, and tugged on the manual override. The airlock groaned open and the Sith Lord floated on in. It sealed shut behind him with a jarring clang. The room pressurized. A green light appeared over the door into the station and it hissed open.

Time to re-enter Denarii.

A voice chimed inside his helmet. "Lord Orcus, there is an unidentified star fighter closing on our location."

Black eyes narrowed. Orcus strode through the open door, each step a ponderous movement in the power armor. "Pull away from the station and do not engage. Let him come to me."

[member="Vassara Raxis"] | [member="Josiah Denko"]

 

[Kiber_Thaxton]

[member="Olan Teff"] [member="Kinsey Starchaser"]

"Put it on. Let's get onto it..." Kiber said with a nod, watching Olan place the door popper onto the blast door. Kiber scanned the vicinity - they were alone, but anything could happen from now until the time the door was blown off its hinges. He unholstered his silenced disruptor pistol and held it close to his chest; it would be a hard and fast fight in the centre if the occupants were still there. Kiber nodded at Olan and he took cover behind the nearest pillar, waiting for the device to do its thing. "Do it now!" Kiber shouted to Olan, as he ducked back behind the pillar.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Olan Teff"] [member="Kiber Thaxton"]

She could hear him now. As she rounded the corner even through the blast doors those boots made a roaring sound. Vassara had a good skill for mechanics and the blast door was proving to be a serous problem. She couldn't cut through it, but she could certainly cut through the wall. Which she did, slicing along the control panel and ripping it out.

Six out of thirteen wires had to be crossed to open it. Luckily she knew the standard procedures and most of the contractors that built these stations. Being Underground paid off. The wires crossed and the door hissed open, locks shorted out. Vassara had a clear shot at him now, the mammoth of darkness. There was nothing in her way and she felt rage boil to the fore.

A rage she had not felt in several years. The sight of Alderaan being blown to bits the first time and Vongformed came to her mind. Her home world, devastated. No amount of Jedi code would stand in the way. She had one thought running through her mind.

Kill the Sith...

So she charged, straight at him. The orange saber swung up above her head held with both hands as she sailed across the room leaping into the attack and bringing the blade crashing down with the full weight of her body. Reckless abandon....

 

[Hasuras va-Agrel]

Escape the Command Center

​

..."Don't bust my shebs girl."...he'd have said while reviewing the holofeeds that afforded him several different angles of key areas within the Decarii Station. The Hangar Bay seemed mostly cleared. The Herglic had left in his ship, likely to pursue his own goal and the Knight of Ren appears to have followed. Good. Less opposition as far as he could tell. Abric seemed pleased until he was alerted to the -beeping- of the BB8 droid and Kinsey's voice which drew his attention to the feed outside of the Command Center. A Mandalorian and some other individual. No rest for the wicked...

...turning his head when Kinsey kicked open the grate he'd have remarked..."Tight squeeze but I've been in tighter."...the Bearded Man smirked a bit, his comment hadn't been without its own amount of insinuation. Dirty man. Looking back towards the sealed blast doors Abric watched the feed, noticed that one of the men appeared to be planting a breaching charge of some sort then he'd have told Kinsey..."Go ahead girl. I'm right behind you."...then he reached for the Incinerator Flamethrower that he'd propped against one of the control console and lift it into his hold nodding towards Kinsey. The Sun Guard wasn't afraid, his people had beaten Mandalorians one on one but he recognized the virtue of having a pay down...

...Abric moved one hand over the control console. The Blast Doors in the Hangar Bay began to open in a randomized sequence allowing entry to that area again. In contrast blast doors behind both the intruders would begin to seal, barring their way back towards the Hangar Bay. Abric nodded, satisfied and then turned the Incinerator Flamethrower towards the console before compressing the trigger and sending a gout of flame to rip over the console and ravage it leaving it most inoperable to the others. Once that was done Abric rushed the open duct and grate to follow behind Kinsey, out of sight and away. Grunting as he went, tight fit indeed....​

​

[member="Kinsey Starchaser"] [member="Olan Teff"] [member="Kiber Thaxton"]

 

[Graze]

With their hands now free, Graze and Koh cautiously opened the door to the Cantina and peered inside. Their view was partially blocked by a stack of boxes, but as they continued forward, they easily spotted the Hapan and her retinue. The beautiful noblewoman stood in the center of the brightly-lit room, a gun of command aimed at a doorway opposite the Darkwater soldiers. Next to her stood a fierce bodyguard, his hand poised over the Blaster Pistol on his hip. His body was tense, as was his expression. His wary eyes continuously scanned the room for intruders, while his four compatriots covered the room in strides, examining the dead that littered the floor for some sign of life. Anytime a body moved, the nearest guard would take aim with his blaster pistol, shooting the form at point blank range.

"Hapens cannot see in darkness, and are hampered in dim lighting," whispered Graze. "If we get close enough to the noblewoman, we can shoot out the lights and grab her before any of her guards react."

"Excellent plan, Sir," said Koh. "I can take out four of the guards with my pistol, provided they're close enough to one another."

"Good," Graze replied with a low grunt. "I'll grab the noble. On my signal."

The two forms crept slowly to opposite sides of the box pile and took aim at the light fixtures above. "Now!" shouted Graze, pulling the trigger. A powerful blast ripped from his weapon, its arc mirrored by streaks of lightning as Koh followed suit. The guards all turned at the sound, but their movements were impeded by the near darkness they now found themselves in. With the lights shattered, the room became a hunting ground. The two predators, their eyes keen in dim lighting, stalked their Hapan prey. Bluish-white strands pierced the air once more, dropping two guards who had the misfortune to stumble close to one another. The final three guards used the brief flash to pinpoint the shark and whale's locations, then split up, one staying behind to guard the noblewoman while the other two charged their targets. The man running toward Koh tripped over one of the bodies already on the floor and fell, his weapon flying from his hand. Koh pulled the trigger, and the man was no more.

Meanwhile, Graze calmly aimed his weapon at the incoming soldier. It discharged, catching the man in his chest and ripping a large hole through it. His torso now a gaping maw, the man sank to the floor. In the same motion, Graze pointed toward the last remaining guard and pulled the trigger once more. He, too, collapsed. Advancing, Graze took aim at the Hapan noblewoman. Koh did the same, and then grabbed her and placed the barrel of his gun to her temple.

"Gotcha," Koh said with a smirk.

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

[member="Abric Korne"] [member="Kiber Thaxton"] [member="Olan Teff"]

Starchaser-blue eyes widened as Abric used that flame thrower again. "Gotta get me one of those," the whisper was more or less to herself as she knelt down in front of the open grate. Beard-man was a total BA. Her BB8 unit rolled and clomped ahead. The teen began to crawl on all fours. Unfortunately, they weren't exactly quiet.

She managed a peek behind her shoulder. He looked like a squished mynock pinned between two ships. She bit back a snicker, trying to disguise it as a cough to clear her throat. "Cfffff-ahem. This should take us back to the hangar. Anyone following us back there? I mean, don't get stuck looking."

She snorted.

Morris squealed but it wasn't a reaction to its owner's 'jokes.' "Morris!" Kins yelped as the level ground of the shaft suddenly dropped and her body tipped into the darkness to follow after her BB8 unit. She landed in a tangle of limbs in a pile of....wet junk. And it reeked. Reeked worse than when Uncle Coren wore the same unwashed shirt for a few weeks.

Totes gross.

 

[Mammut]

Blubbery brows rose behind the helmet's emotionless faceplate as the blast door whooshed open and a woman in a blue vac suit carrying an orange lightsaber stormed through.

"Ah, thank you, I -"

The female attacked him, becoming a cerulean blur as she leaped forward in what looked like a Form IV Hawk-Bat Swoop. Orcus countered, lifting his enormous scarlet great saber in a single-handed Form V Standing Mountain parry. Her full strength crashed down against his defense like a howling gale, but the wind's clawing arms did little to break the peaks of the massif. Their blades spat and hissed at the point of contact.

He could feel the anger roiling within her. Anger directed at him. Beneath the helmet, he smiled.

Orcus' counter-strike came immediately. He simply lashed out with his left fist in a straight punch aimed at her solar plexus. The seven foot tall Herglic weighed eight hundred pounds. Wearing the power armor he was even heavier... and stronger. The punch would be spearheaded by the gauntlet's beskar knuckles. In all likelihood it would shatter the woman's sternum and send her sprawling.

[member="Vassara Raxis"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

Where once there was serenity now there was nothing but the blackness of her heart. Something evil and seething. She realized she was feeding off of it and recoiled in horror. She meant to pull the blade back but was lost, lost in the vengeful feeling. She felt it, the punch that nearly broke her in one blow. The air escaped her lungs as the Beskar tipped knuckles slammed home and she was lifted clear of the deckplates.

She hit the wall with a resounding thud, bones cracking. A huge dent marked where she'd hit it.

Get up

Get up

Kill the Sith

Gingerly she rose, raising both fists as her head screamed. Her body screamed, everything screamed in red hot lancing pain. Her teeth were gritted and blood mixed with saliva dribbled from the corners of her mouth. With wild fury she raised both fists. But there was no lightsaber.

"Frak."

The very air leaving her lungs was enough to make her cough and hunch. The saber flew from the deck, back into her palm, the orange blade snapping back to life. She was hardly coherent and knew a dead on assault was a dead plan now. She'd have to cut him apart slowly. She surged again, broken body smashing forwards. This time the blade whirled down in a double strike, retracted and slashed across her body with a nasty backhand swing.

One palm was up a force barrier slowly building around it....

 

[Hasuras va-Agrel]

Waste Management???

​

...down on all fours, hands and knees Abric looked like a stuffed holiday goose the way he was packed into the ventilation shaft. The Flamethrower, held in his right hand was drug along the bottom of the shaft as he went forward unwilling to relinquish his hold on the weapon though logic would dictate an individual such as himself had plenty of surprises throughout the armor that he wore. Up ahead Abric was able to see Kinsey, moving along with quite a bit more ease than he was as she lead the way and turning his head at her behest he tried to look back behind himself...

...."Wha---"...his voice caught in his throat, hos shoulder got caught up in the vent as he tried to look back behind himself and Abric was struggling..."Feth!"...he cursed..."Come on you."...he wiggled a bit more, shrugged his arms and eventually worked himself free only to turn eyes from when he heard Kinsey call for the droid, Morris, as the duct collapsed ahead of them. Abric went still but he heard creaking and then..."Ahhhh, hell."...the shaft gave way in much the same manner as it had for Kinsey and Morris the only difference being the Sun Guard was expecting a much harder, more uncomfortable landing...

...the Beard Man fell like a sack of potatoes into the darkness. Groaning as he landed atop a pile of junk in the darkness, wetness touching the side of his face where he'd smeared it up against something causing him to grimace in disgust. "What's that smell?"...Abric muttered a few choice words, he reached for the Flamethrower in the darkness but it was out of his reach causing him to abandon it momentarily. Legs plunged into the tangled mess of garbage as Abric found his footing..."Kinsey?"...he said..."Kinsey."...his voice came a little louder..."You're not dead are you?"...bless his rough around the edges heart he'd consider that a bad thing....

...setting a hand on his belt Abric sought out the lightsaber he'd taken off one of the dead sith and bringing it into a forward guard his finger would slide over the activation switch until. Vwoooooosh. The Lightsaber came to life in a blaze of crimson bolstered by the lignan crystal in its hilt. The Bearded Man looked rather impressive wielding it with the light casting shadows against his visage while he used it to shed some light on their current predicament but tilting his head backwards he'd have said..."There must be another shaft leading out. I could lift you to it."...while attempting to see above the both of them in the dim light cast...​

​

[member="Kinsey Starchaser"] [member="Kiber Thaxton"] [member="Olan Teff"]