When The Past Isn't Dead and Gone [OPEN]

[Bluejay Ungolfen]

Alpha Base; Unknown Location

Out in the middle of nowhere, where there were no stars, no systems, just far-off pinpricks of light - where the most secret of secrets are kept - there was a space station. A research space station, occupied by enough staff to keep it running, about fifty security officers, a small team of scientists, one training sergeant, and six fourteen-year-old cloned soldiers. Their DNA was identical to exactly one other person in the galaxy.

T:N1:LDR. Bluejay. The last surviving member of the last experiment and one of the most messed-up people in the Confederacy Army. Granted, that was an exaggeration for the sake of drama...but right now a little drama seemed appropriate.

A distress signal was coming from the space station, and the sudden shift and almost simultaneous deaths of the support staff and the white-hot fury of six young minds sent out a tremor in the Force for anyone with the skill to listen to hear. Bluejay, having received an anonymous tip-off that the Sarge was there, was already en-route to the station when she picked up the electronic distress call. In full armor with her helmet in the copilot's seat, a grim smile crossed her face. Oh yes - they would be in distress.

In the station, the six clones fought like demons, blasting and slashing their way through the scientists and security in an attempt to reach the barricaded Dr. Constone, a human scientist who's once-brown hair was now gray. Two - the orange-armored FIGHTer from one squad and the indigo-armored LEADER of the other - were gunned down by security. The remaining four fought even harder, all with identical roars of fury at the death of their comrades.

The remaining LEADER, Ink, was in black-painted armor and used a pistol and a knife, while the two TACTICS, Key and Slicer, had painted their armor olive green and teal respectively. They wielded longknives and submachine blasters not unlike the DC-17 of the Clone Wars. The surviving FIGHTer, Scalpel had chosen a color scheme of dark red. She used a sniper rifle and a knife. All four were deadly in combat - all had been trained like Bluejay had, for the past twelve years, and all of them wanted to kill Dr. Constone and the Sarge.

@[member="Arthos Vynea"] @[member="Circe Savan"] @[member="Soliael Devin Talith"] @[member="Jericho"] @[member="Daxton Bane"] @[member="Tracyn Ordo"]

 

[Onrai]

An abandoned space station? Abandoned facilities were places Circe loved more than anywhere else in the galaxy, and it was because of that that her transport was on the way to this facility. She was curious as to what could be found on board.

Of course, she had no idea the abandoned station was occupied. But oh well.

 

[Daxton Bane]

In the void of hyperspace, no one could hear you scream, well no one who wasn't a Force User anyway. The Wayfinder was on his way back when he received the encrypted request, so without a second's hesitation he punched in the new coordinates and entered hyperspace.

He wasn't particularly close to the one called Bluejay. When a Confederate called Daxton came, it was simply the way of the galaxy. Mind you, where Daxton when usually mayhem and malice usually followed but that was a small price for his services.

Biting back a grimace as the warning lights began to flash indicating an exit from hyperspace. He grabbed his helmet and strapped it on. The reflective face plate hiding his face, making him once more the merciless avatar of Confederate Justice, unbowed, unbroken, a living weapon of the Force.

Activating the autopilot to begin docking procedures, he programmed the vehicle to take off as soon as he departed and cloak in orbit until he summoned for it again.

@[member="T:N1:LDR"]

 

[Bluejay Ungolfen]

@[member="Daxton Bane"] @[member="Circe Savan"]

Bluejay had docked moments before Daxton had exited hyperspace, so she had no knowledge he was anywhere near here. But, like he said - they weren't particularly close. Bluejay entered the station with her weapons drawn, taking in the dead security guard that lay in the doorway. Facedown - probably shot in the back. Huh...

 

[Arthos Vynea]

Curiosity killed the cat they said, but unfortunately for Arthos he'd never heard the saying as an encrypted message came across his fighter's comm. He was a Viceroy now, but he still heavily favored the use of a fighter over other star ships, and since the government was paying the tab on the gas it just seemed more logical then using his own freighter. One of the perks were the military grade technology that had caught the encrypted message, and the fact that it seemed to originate from empty space made it even more interesting.

Such did the Zabrak find himself more then a little curious as to the distress call, and without hesitation he set his ship on a new course. Reaching a hand to rub the back of his neck he was at least pleased at the prospect of getting out of the ship for a bit, a stretch would do him good. Watching the lights of hyperspace pass him by he just leaned into the seat, and waited as the hypnotic lights passed around his ship. Losing a track of mind as he allowed himself to relax for the wait he was surprised as a beep announced the imminent departure from hyperspace.

As the lights faded he looked over the space station with a small grin, what are you doing out here? Setting his ship down inside one of the hanger bays he looked around a moment before opening the seal on his cockpit. Climbing out of the cockpit he grabbed a sniper rifle from the behind his seat and moved down to the hanger floor. Releasing his constants on the force Arthos called up his passion to feel about him. Death was in the air it seemed.

@[member="T:N1:LDR"], @[member="Daxton Bane"], @[member="Circe Savan"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

Daxton didn't need to touch the bodies to know they were dead, it was already obvious from the signs of extreme trauma they received as well as unnatural positions they assumed where they fell. The attackers were skilled but the defenders sheer numbers seemed to be taking their toll on them.

By his calculation, they were heading to the command center, which made sense. Whoever owned this station must have pissed off the wrong person, and if the quality of mercenaries hired was any indication, then whatever they were doing here was worth looking into.

With a sweep of his purple cloak, Daxton continued his journey, following the trail of bodies as he walked deeper into the cavity of the station.

@T:N1:LDR, @Arthos Vynea, @Circe Savan

 

[Bluejay Ungolfen]

Time to get creative.

Key and Slicer split up, flanking the remaining guards. Ink hung back, taking out the (seemingly hastily) activated defense turrets. Scalpel, now thoroughly enjoying herself, barreled straight towards the guards, slamming into them and knocking two of them flat with a roar. A somewhat-lucky blow from the FIGHTer's fight sent the bridge of Ugly #1's nose into his brain, and a knife into the throat of Ugly #2 left the rest of the corridor - until the corner anyway - clear.
Key glanced at her surviving sister. "Nice punch." Scalpel chuckled. "I've been practicing. Trick is to break their nose upwards."

Bluejay's ears picked up the sound of blasterfire. Twisting midstride, she changed direction and increased her speed, now racing down an adjacent corridor. If she was right, there should be a hole here. If there wasn't, she'd make one herself. She didn't have a lightsaber, but she did have a blaster, and there was a particularly weak spot somewhere around here. She should know - she grew up on this station.