When the World Ends (Mao)

[Salem Norongachi]

"Are you sure about this?" The holographic representation of the ships supercomputer, Emah, frowned at Norongachis request.

"I need to know," Norongachi began. "It was a big part of my life back then." He finished, his eyes fixed to the stars just beyond the viewport of the Star Destroyers bridge.

"You might not like what you find." Emah responded. "There hasn't been any mention of Exis on the holonet since the Gulag."

"It doesn't hurt to check. There could be weapons or equipment left over from my occupation." He had to admit that it was wishful thinking. The entire facility may have been gutted since he had had his final showdown with his son and heir. "Plot the course."

"As you command." Emah couldn't deny him, it was beyond her programming but she doubted if something so simple as weapons of equipment from an age long past spurned on his decision.

The dark hulled star destroyer slipped into hyperspace. The corridor seeming to swallow the colossal ship and her crew of one. At the end of their journey lay a place etched in Omegas memory. It was were his life had truly began, his great adventure and the mark he would inevitably leave upon a galaxy lost in time.

[member="Mao"]

 

[Mao]

​

​

Teedio System
Exis Station



Time here all but meant nothing, just shadows that went drifting across the long forgotten durasteel walls of an ancient time. Here, drifting aimlessly in space. Here, lying forgotten by various empire's influences that had surged and waned through the ages lay the once Jedi Space Station that had housed close to fifty-thousand Omega clones.

And one Firrerreo.

If these walls could talk. If these very walls could speak. They would tell a bloody tale of survival. Of [member="Salem Norongachi"]. Lord Omega. Who wove plots within plots, and planned things seven steps you could see and a further four you couldn't. Of smoke and mirrors, where deceit and betrayal where his instruments and how he played them like a master...

And his inevitable return.


If these walls could talk, they would speak of the initiation of long dormant emergency protocols in his Clones and the bloodiest fight between son and father that almost rent Exis itself in two. Here, vast sections had been destroyed, sealed off in the past in a desperate attempt for the son to survive.

You played your part beautifully, my son.​

The words would linger like a death shroud upon the very hanger that beheld that last stand. Scorch marks along the bulkhead proof of the crack of laser cannons and blaster fire by a Firespray, captained by the sheer grit of a woman with oceanic eyes to match the blue of her hair. Her energy, the enraged emotions from the woman along would be enough to send any empathic straight into a flowwalk of those very events, a constant neverending loop of that bloody fight for her and the Son's survival.

I can't let you leave...​

Those words would pulse throughout the station, beyond durasteel walls and hallways that bore witness to the void of space. They would curve and dance against every level, to the very heart of Exis Station itself, where a flutter of lights would bear the only testimony of a long forgotten past. A subtle low constant beep of vital signs upon row upon row of stasis chambers lying in wait. For Him.


A fools errand? Perhaps.


The gods love a trier...


As old wisened emerald eyes locked upon the faintly dim light of one particular stasis chamber, brushing over beyond the ice to the lone suspended female in a room full of the Empire's finest genetic engineered first series clones, there came a distinct nod.

Spoiler

Ghent, as always, took that phrase a bit too literally.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

A sense of foreboding had fallen over Omega as the psychedelic light show of hyperspace danced its erratic dance just beyond the transparasteel. It was almost enough to stay his hand, to make him order the ship to change course. Some things were best left in the past, a fond memory to visit when the world around you was falling to pieces.

He looked down at his hands, young hands, younger than he had when he was last at journeys end. He could feel her weight, the blood trickling from her body and through his fingers as they ran.

"Away from me..." He thought, his green eyes becoming hard as the dual recollections played out in his mind. He was at once the Father and the Son, the hunter and the hunted. Good and evil. The process of taking memories and imprinting them on another is easy. Handling the emotions that came with them was something else entirely. Sometimes, when his mind wandered in the moments between waking and dreaming, he was Sal. The naive clone that wanted the Galaxy to be better than it was, to stand for the great principles that Omega had once had. He had forgotten his place, forgotten that he was a tool to achieve that end. If only he had understood, the younger Norongachi might have lived to see his dreams fulfilled.

"Reversion to real-space in ten seconds." The A.I informed him.

Norongachi braced himself. At best the place would be as it was; a broken husk, ruined by the final clash of Father and Son. At worst it might not be there at all, it could have drifted or been utterly destroyed in the intervening 700 years. The corridor collapsed and there she lay. Dark and battle scarred but still there. The debris of the former shipyards that had snaked out of the superstructure like a spiders web spun lazily where they had come to rest after being broken free of their moorings.

"Something isn't right...." He found himself saying as the Hand of Fate slid silently toward Exis. He couldn't feel anything in the Force, like someone had taken a scalpel to the canvas of the Galaxy and cut out the section of space where the station lay. It was empty, when it should have had something. Life he had no expectation of finding but something. An electrical signal, even the sense that the metal of the hull gave off in the Force.

The station had not been without defences. Its shields were strong, stronger than the ones aboard the Fate and it had the guns to match. Heavy turbolaser batteries adorned its outer hull, with proton missile launchers, laser and flak screen emplacements. It would have taken a sizeable fleet to breach her.

"Or a sentimental child with a big red button." Salem thought ruefully but that feeling of foreboding still lingered. That the station seemed to be a void in the Force made him more than a little cautious and after retiring to his quarters just off the bridge he prepared himself for battle, the dark mandalorian armour slipped onto his body like a second skin and the saber upon its belt an extension of his own body.

The former Dark Lord of the Sith was as prepared physically as he could be but what scared him was that he might not be prepared mentally for what he might find. To cause such a void one would have to damange the Force to such an extent that it simply retreated from the area.

"Like the death of thousands of Force Masters?" His mind offered coldly.

The shuttle was small and unarmed. Merely a runabout that he used in lieu of the Firespray that had been lost along with his armies and fleets when the station had fallen. He was perhaps a hundred or so meters from the open hangar of Exis when he felt it. A cold punch and suddenly the Force was gone. Instinctively his body panicked, like it were struggling to take a breath underwater before the extensive training he and his brothers had endured kicked in and he took a breath.

"Lizards..." He spat the word like a curse at the Universe while he set the ship down upon the carbon scored floor of the hangarbay. He checked the mag-seals on his armour and then switched to the internal oxygen supply before taking his first step into Exis Station. The t-shaped visor swung left and then right before stopping on a line of broken scorch marks. She had killed him again, the shots from the Black Hearts guns had blasted his old body to bits but, thankfully he had risen anew in the mind of his son.

"Always have a plan B..." Omega had told his young progeny before he had died for the first time. What he didn't tell him was that you should plan all the way to Z. If he had learned that lesson then it would be Sal standing here in their home and not Omega. The Force was useless to him here, he could feel that now and so he relied upon the technology of his armour, switching the display to low-light the bay brightened and he got a look at it again. The doorway that lead into the station itself lay on the far right of the hangar wall before him but what drew his eye was above him. The source of the dead spot, clinging to nutrient frames suspended from the high ceiling. Ysalamiri, dozens of them. All suspended in small vac-sealed cages, glaring down at him with their small lizard eyes.

The attack came from behind. The blow taking his legs from him and then a hand, so fast and precise slipped under his helm as he fell and snatched it from his head and darkness rolled in. The attacker sprung half a dozen feet from the ground and brought his knee down toward his stomach. The wind was knocked from him by the impact of his spine upon durasteel but he had wits enough to roll aside as the knee hit the metal with such force that it left a dent. Up and onto his feet with the momentum of the roll, green eyes sought the impossibly quick aggressor. He heard it then, barely a whisper of a sound but he recognized it as a footfall and he spun. An armoured hand snatched the punch from the air and he dipped under the arm and twisted, flipping whomever it belonged to head over heels. He saw a splash of grey set against long raven hair as the man landed, gracefully, upon his feet rather than his back as intended. A twist of his wrist freed him and then in a split second both of them had sabers drawn and at each others throats.

Emerald eyes matched the sabers they each held and Norongachi couldn't help but grin at the old face staring back at him. It was his own, if he was thirty years older. "Welcome home, Sir." Ghent said, his face as always utterly unreadable.

"Good to be back Commander." They broke their stance in unison and deactivated their weapons. Omega could not fully process what he was feeling, he had never been more happy to see the almost robotic Omega Series Soldier. "Mind filling in the past 700 years soldier?" They walked out of the hangar and into the adjoining corridor. The place was surprisingly well kept, he noted as they moved deeper into the station. Corridors that would have normally branched off from others were sealed by blast doors, the damage beyond no doubt too much for one man to repair but what did remain was spotless, although with minimal power.

"I have kept the reactors running at reduced output. Only the most needed systems are drawing from it. I felt it best after the news of the plague that hit the Galaxy. I feared they would malfunction or run dry and I would have no way to refuel or repair them. Thankfully they are still very functional." The Clone said, almost as if he had read Norongachi's mind.

"How many survived?" The question had been lingering since he had met his former second.

"Eleven, including myself." The news was like a slap in the face, Eleven out of nearly Fifty-Thousand. "The others are in stasis. They have been since the attack by the youngest of us." There were no emotion to his words, nothing that indicated that Ghent resented Sal Norongachi and all he had done, it was all merely facts to him.

"Take me to them..." But as he said it Ghent stopped. The door before them was one Norongachi knew well, it lead onto the causeway that took them over the banks upon banks of cloning vats that had once resided upon the worldcraft Talta, liberated by Omega from its renegade Imperial General.

When the door opened the room was dark as well, the vats stretched all the way down to the lowest levels of the station upon a central pillar that was encircled on each level by walkways. At the topmost level where they stood the walkway split left and right into stairs that descended to the levels below while the path ahead took them over the vats to the room which lay beyond. Inside it were stasis booths that he had installed along with the cloning equipment from Talta. They cast muted light into the room and Salem could make out the shadows of their occupants just beyond the frosted glass. At the top of each, above the glass, were the designations that he knew by heart. Zero-Two through to Ten and then another that had no markings at all.

"Ghent..." Norongachi said laying a hand upon the cold surface of the unmarked chamber and rubbing away the layer of ice from the glass. "Why in the blue frak is [member="Mao"] in here?" He asked while his heart thundered in his chest as he gazed upon the slumbering form of the woman that had nearly stolen his sons heart.

 

[Mao]

There was no hesitation in Ghent's voice as he spoke in his typical monotone. It was as if seven hundred years had not separated the two and the older clone was merely discussing a status report.

“The Major required significant medical attention. The attack by the youngest left her with significant body damage and would have bled out had it not been for my intervention.”

That was not putting it lightly. Mao had almost died during that fight, losing consciousness in the wake of the battle with Omega and the Son.

A closer inspection would leave no doubt at her presence. Beyond the frost covered stasis chamber would reveal the bare body of the Firrerreo that bore witness to numerous wounds due to a lifetime of combat. The most prevalent would be intimately familiar to [member="Salem Norongachi"]; From the top of her right shoulder and kissing the right side of her ribcage were the pale golden puckered burn scars from when Omega had melted her armor into her skin. Down the curve of her belly, below the slightly crossed arms would bare a singular circular darkened mark of when Salem’s viridian blade had slipped between her gullet like a hot knife through butter.

More recently, would be the jagged scar right under her left breast, a testimony to where shrapnel had torn through her ribcage, piercing a lung and barely avoiding her heart and aorta, her Firrerreo genetics the only reason why she managed to stay conscious for so long.

Fierreros were hard to kill, their body’s natural ability to heal faster allowing them to take heavy damage unless it was directed to the heart or brain. With Mao’s training as a Sith Slayer and then fighting alongside Liberty Squad made her beyond a warrior; but a deadly weapon-- harder to kill than Omega himself apparently -- no matter how hard he tried.

Ghent, unphased by any kind of emotional upheaval that might be coursing through Omega’s mind, continued, “ The youngest of us fought to keep her alive.” there was a pause, and perhaps due to being alone for seven hundred years had made Ghent a bit more introspective, his emerald gaze drifting from Mao towards the other stasis chambers.

“So would the others.” there had been no order to kill her after all, and for nearly half a decade, the Major had fought side by side with Liberty Squad, under her command. It was the very reason they were in stasis chambers to begin with, for while the rest of fifty-thousand strong followed Omega’s programming protocol, they did not. They were as close to the original template as possible. Very nearly Human, but not as reckless or emotional, loyal to a fault.

Unlike Ghent. He was made to follow orders. That was his function. Along with the task to see to the well being of the Master.

In that was Mao. For on a purely sexual level, she was quite appealing but such mundane things as reproduction were not covered in basic. However, there was no denying that the development and well-being of the youngest of them had been molded in part, by the blue and black haired devil laying as still and silent as the dead beyond the frosted glass.

Likely, the only time in memory for both Father and Son that she had ever been so still.

“It was best to keep her in stasis for her protection and security in the wake of the last attack. Easier to handle.” that was putting it lightly and he made a poor attempt at a smile through the scarred visage. Ghent had been made to follow orders, not for humor.

But perhaps seven hundred years with nothing but ten stasis chambers to talk to would tweak that.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

If it had been anyone else and he were the Omega of old, the raven haired Master might have struck Ghent down for his reasoning but he couldn't because as fiercely intelligent as his Second in Command was, he was the purest of them. A living conduit of logic that followed instructions to the letter and never asked why.

"And I'm not the way I was, am I?" The thought came like a shot from the dark and added unease to the cacophony of emotions that the sight of Mao had awakened. He had been changed after his take over of his son, Sal Norongachi, the last and youngest of the Omega Series Soldiers to be created. He felt it so keenly in this moment that it terrified him, the longing he had for this woman that had taken his life twice already was almost unbearable. How had Sal dealt with it for so long?

"So would the others..." Omegas green eyes moved down the line of stasis chambers. He remembered the day he had given the order to eliminate his son. He remembered how vehemently Zero-Two through Ten had railed against it and he remembered subduing and imprisoning them to the icy slumber they were still in. Norongachi couldn't remember if he had felt shame or guilt then but right now, as the memories surged across his mind, he did and it cut him to the bone.

“It was best to keep her in stasis for her protection and security in the wake of the last attack. Easier to handle.”

"Oh don't I know it." Salem responded with a fond smile as his eyes returned to the naked form of the Fierrero. His eyes traced the scars upon her body and while he knew that he had caused the majority of them he couldn't help but think how beautiful she was. How the marks of a life in the trenches enhanced that beauty. She was feriocious, cantakerous and the most passionate person he had ever met. She was Mao.

"My [member="Mao"] " The two words slipped from his lips like a whisper and he shook his head, as if unsure who had just spoken. "No, you stupid old bastard...She was his." Omega turned to Ghent then, his face a blank mask that hid what he was truly feeling from his subordinate.

"Release them," He commanded. "All of them."

 

[Mao]

Ghent did as he was told, the older clone making the short way towards the stasis control data console that managed the precious vital signs and temperature control of the ten chambers that flanked Omega.

If he had caught the soft possessive whisper from the Master, he didn’t show it. His expression was stoic, that scarred visage watching carefully the stream of data upon the display as his hands deftly ticked in the command prompts to start the thawing process of the cryo chambers.

Within seconds, power was rerouted and surged as two by two, a hissing sound cut the silence of the room as the seals were broken, cold icy clouds swirling out as oxygen hit the frozen bodies of Liberty Squad and finally, their commander.

The process would not be quick and even if seven hundred years had not passed, the delicate procedure of reanimating a sentient from cryo stasis could be dangerous -- even deadly.

Vital signs were scrutinized for any subtle change that could lead to drastic results, the minutes ticking by as the temperature rose in each and every bare body suspended before Omega.

It wasn’t long before the beeping indicating heartbeats began to increase, as gasps of air drew in chilled fresh breath for the first time in centuries. Zero-Four was the first to awaken, followed by Zero-eight - Hardock, Zero- Nine - Telza, and then Zero-two. There was a medley of groans, a curse or two, and the sudden bracing of weakened thick arms along the sides of the stasis chamber.

All through it all, if Omega had so desired to glance back at the Firrerreo before him, he would see the slide of the plexiglass covering her suspended body slide back, clicking shut as the hiss of the broken seal left no other barrier between them. Nothing but a smokey cloud of ice and chilled air as the faint dusting of ice crystals over her golden skin began to melt. Water began to bead and form over her shoulders, arms, belly and legs as the thawing ice condensed over her flesh.

The tiny flutter of a pulse would slowly start to increase at her jugular, where the short fringe of her hair brushed just past one scarred and one smooth shoulder. One would be able to see the rush of blood slowly start to flush her face a more becoming gold, with a touch of pink as subtle nuances of nerves reacting to warmth made tiny jerks of her fingers over her breasts.

Awareness would come in degrees. Sensation on the other hand -- was painful. Agonising really.

It was literally like being submerged into icy cold water only to be thrusted upon the heat of the sun. The data console monitoring Mao’s vitals signs suddenly shot into haywire, as sightless cobalt blue eyes went snapping open, the protective nictitating membrane over those oceanic orbs sliding back as her sharp sucking gasp joined the rest.

What now?...​

Sharp pointed teeth bared in the gasp, muscles still stiff from the cold spasming as her arms fell to her sides, senses on override to painful degrees, fingers blindly clawing to find purchase as her cold bare body began to slide down.

I don't know...​

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Omega found his feet retreating. Was it fear of reprisals from his brethren? No, but fear of judgement for what he had done. For what he had forced Sal to do. He had cultivated a fear so deep in his progeny that he had felt the only way to stop him was to sacrifice them all. A cold and calculating part of his mind approved, when faced with insurmountable odds the only course of action was the most deplorable. For the greater good, he would have done the same.

Norongachis body froze when her stasis chamber slid open and he found himself torn. Part of himself wanted to go to her, to take her in his arms and ease her back into the material world and the other part, the darker part, wanted to end her before she became the inevitable problem that she would be. Thankfully, Hardock, or Zero-Four, forestalled any actions with the completion of a sentence he had been speaking 700 years prior.

"-and you can shove your orders straight up your exhaust pipe!" He yelled, his right hand clasping the part of his upper arm that met with the fore, which stood erect in the air, fist clenched. It took him a moment to realize where he was and that the object of his ire wasn't where he was supposed to be.

"What a trip." Tezla yawned, coolly stepping from his chamber as if he'd just been for a relaxing nap.

"For the love of...." Cried Harkin holding his head with one hand and bracing himself against his stasis chamber. "I'll kill you Ghent, I swear. I'll kill you dead. After I have a little cry."

"I...uhh...don't mean to -you know- alarm you guys, but -uh- there's a guy over there giving off some crazy vibes." Tezla spoke in his usual fashion indicating Omega. "If i'm not mistaken I -uhhh- I'm pretty sure that is the bossman but what do I know? I've just woke up from an icenap." No one, not any of them, seemed to notice that their flesh was laid as bare as the day the Empire had birthed them from the cloning vats.

The temperature of the room dipped to such a degree that it might have been warmer for all involved back in stasis. Omega steeled himself in the face of their animosity. If they wanted to go a few rounds with him they were welcome to try, even on their best days all of them combined would have been hard pushed to best him. The only deciding factor that could tip the scales was the negation of the Force in the area.

"You..." Hardock spat and tried to advance upon him, his teeth bared but his body let him down and he fell to one knee.

"Ghent," Omega said ignoring his brothers. "Take them to thier quarters. We'll settle this when you are-" His sentence was cut short when he saw [member="Mao"] 's body begin to slide and without thought or prompt he was at the chamber and catching her in his arms. Green eyes met sapphire blue in that moment and if he could have hit pause on the world he would have. What would follow, he didn't even want to think about.

 

[Mao]

Strong arms caught her, drawing her close, cold bare skin protesting the hard plate of armor. Her mind was a daze, her vision blurry as even the dull glow of the lights around her overstimulated her senses in a most painful manner.

Scents came to her first. Of a familiar musk. Whiskey. Smokes. Sal. Her arms instinctively went wrapping around broad armored shoulders, trusting that strength for balance.

He never faltered. She could trust that.

Fingers went twitching just over the nape of his neck, and under her breath came a savage, “Feckin’ ‘ell, Sal!” as ironically, her bare and wet golden body molded against his for the first time. Too bad she was coming out of her ice nap, and her slippery body only due to ice water thawing than actual sweat.

She could hear voices at the edge of her hearing. Harkin. Telza. Hardock. Chit

“Frakkin ‘ell watch the bloody goods!!” came a strained voice as bare feet touched the ground, long sinewy legs finding a manner of purchase as her sight slowly came to her, nictitating membranes sweeping furiously over her eyes as an achingly familiar face came into sharp focus.

Laser fire green met cryokinetic blue and the air practically frazzled with the sudden change in the air. Time stopped.

Words would fill her mind. His words. Heavy chains of memories.

Listen good Firerreo,​

​

By now the rest of the singular digits had awoken from their icy slumber, joining the rest in a broad spectrum of reactions to their situation and the man holding their commander. A man they knew that while he carried the face of the youngest of them was no other than Omega himself.

A pregnant silence rose between them all, Hardick attempting to rise from his bent knee earlier as if to stop Salem from touching her, the expression on his face clearly saying ‘Get your hands off of her’, following the snarl that had uttered the ‘You.’

But the rest, well. The rest knew Mao. Saw when she caught on. Saw the expression change over her golden face as that telltale visual temperature gauge that was her skin colour shift.

What she did next would do them proud.

I was born a predator… I’m faster, I’m stronger and I’m more deadly than anything you could imagine in your wildest wettest dreams. ​

Adrenaline shot through her, giving her the boost she needed in her weak body for that short spurt she would need to attack. With blinding speed akin to those with the Force, forged by over two decades of combat and then fighting as one with Liberty squad, Mao’s right hand shot from his shoulder to clamp down at Omega’s wrist, while the other snapped to his hip, that soldier's awareness drawing his lightsaber hilt from it’s perch.

Feet slid back, braced as much as protesting muscles could as her skin went shifting from a burnished gold to a molten silver. Cobalt fire shone through the dark black fringe of her bangs as a snarl revealed sharp canine teeth, twisting his wrist further, turned it, pushed back, pulled, and with precise skill, Omega’s large frame rose in midair, did a half turn, and crashed into the hard durasteel deck of the cloning facility, sending the faint clouds of ice swirling around him.

She was a beatific sight; naked in all her silver glory, chest heaving in her emotional upheaval as she stood over the body and face of a man she once trusted with her life…containing the soul of a Sith Lord who left a bloody wake in his terror of a galaxy.

A man she had personally killed twice.

Fraker.

Quick as a Jeco, before he could react, her foot shoved down as hard as she could upon his chest. Then there came the tell tale snap-hiss of a shockingly familiar viridian blade, an experienced twist of her wrist bringing that blade down upon him, the heat of the saber coming down to strike upon [member="Salem Norongachi"] ’s vulnerable neck.

Only to stop.

Don’t talk. Attack. Never hesitate. Hesitation kills. You won’t get a second chance, luv.

Words haunted her. Words. But that face. That damnable face of a man she fought, trained, and secretly ached for was staring up at her. Older, but it was Sal’s face. Sal.

So I may be less than one year old but remember this and remember it well.​

Her vision began to blur, moisture shimmering and that snarl grew larger.

When the blaster bolts start flying and when the Sith lords FINALLY turn their eyes on this merry band, I may be the only hope you frakin have.​

Not anymore. No longer. It was not Sal that stared up at her. Not the pain in her arse that did things to her treacherous body that she’d long denied. Avoided. Ignored with her usual cantankerous quips.

No. Those emerald eyes that stared up at her were an altogether different kind. The sort she’d seen twice in her life before she shut the life of them out.

Omega.

‘Ya bloody frakin’ piece o -” Another pair of strong arms overtook her from behind, cutting her off. Ghent.

“ARRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” A cry of utter rage went ripping from her throat as she kicked and struggled against Ghent’s strong grasp, her body failing her as the saber fell from her grip to clatter to the floor, deactivating as it began to roll, that dark fringe of blue streak hair falling over the electric blue of her eyes staring daggers at the man whom she should have struck a death blow.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

He froze, couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't help but think that this was as close to her as he was ever likely to get. Her arms holding onto him for support, the weight of her body pressing down upon him. Somewhere inside him, all those emotions both stolen and organic began to collide. The train wreck was predetermined, he could see it as clearly as he saw the look of utter loathing on his brothers face.

End it. Take her out now. She doesn't deserve to die. She'll get in the way. She's a liability. I can't kill her. A weakness. You can't afford to be weak. I couldn't kill her.

"Its yer goods I'm worried about Major Sweet Cheeks!" Hardock yelled in warning as she too noticed just who's arms she was in. Omega was still immobile, struck down by his own fear of what lay moments ahead and unable or perhaps unwilling to avert it while he waged a battle of cold ruthless reason versus pure sentimentality.

The world was spinning as Mao put cut his base away from him, arching his body up and over before he even knew what had hit him. The eyes, he saw her eyes then as he roused himself from his daze for the briefest of seconds. So much pain, so much anger and hate and mistrust and sadness. He didn't know if she could see it, he didn't even know if she would care but the green mirrored the blue in those tell-tale emotions. Swirling into a dark and unbearable mixture that he couldn't escape. It was dragging him down, like lead weights on his ankles he was drowning in the pain he saw reflected in her eyes.

SHE'LL DESTROY YOU!

As the blade came down Omegas hand snapped to the westar blaster at his side, slipping it out and up in a motion so fast it was hard to follow. It stopped then, the blade, so close to his neck that a twitch of her wrist would have severed his jugular vein and his finger trembled upon the trigger, torn between conflicting commands.

"She has the right dammit!" He answered aloud to his own internal struggle as Ghent snatched [member="Mao"] up in his arms as if she were a childs toy. The silver pistol fell from his hands, clattering to the floor as he dragged her away. The guttural sound that issued from her lips cutting through him just as surely as his lightsaber should have.

A hand as strong as durasteel grabbed the collar of his armour before he could collect himself and wrenched him from the floor, slamming hard him against an unforgiving bulkhead and securing a forearm under his chin. It was Hardock, the mans face twisted up with as many emotions as he and Mao.

"You did this! You! It wasn;t the Empire this time or that frakkin' chump General on Talta. It was you! You killed our brothers! You promised us freedom! YOU MADE US BELIEVE WE HAD A FUTURE!" A fist slammed hard into Norongachi's face and sent a spray of blood from his mouth as his lip split under the blow. It hurt like all hell, just like himself Hardock and the rest had greatly increased physical strength but it also served to narrow his focus and he turned that upon his younger sibling.

A knee snapped out and caught the naked clone right in the groin, his grip loosened, and Omegas hands came up balled into fists on either side of his head crashing into his temples simultaneously stunning Hardock. They unclenched and gripped at his hair a split second after impact and Salem drove his forehead into the clones nose sending him to the ground.

"This is it!" He yelled at the down solider that cupped a hand to his nose to stem the flow of blood. "We here, this is all that's left! There won't be any more, there will NEVER be any more!" He punched the glass of the nearest stasis booth in his rage and it shattered, shards biting into his knuckles. "I promised you freedom and you have it! Its not perfect, it came at a cost I could never have foreseen but its yours. So take it. Live your lives or choose your deaths as you see fit but I will never again take the life of a brother." He spot a mouthful of blood onto the ground and picked up his westar from the ground before storming out.

His boots pounded angrily out into the middle of the long grated walkway and then he took aim and fired. The blaster bolts illuminating the gaping darkness before they impacted upon the cloning vats, shattering the fragile glass and the mechanisms within. His trigger wouldn't stop, wouldn't cease to unleash bolt after bolt after bolt. It was his lifes work, the machines that created monsters such as he and look where it had gotten him. Broken, alone, hated. Everything he ever wanted had been denied to him by his own hubris and ego. More vats shattered. A relay exploded in a blossoming of electrical discharge. He wanted to go back, to be wide eyed, naive and full of hope.

He wanted to be clean...

Liberty Squad were on the walkway by now, watching as flash after flash of light issued from the barrel of Omegas weapon followed by destruction of the equipment beneath them. Red warning lights were flashing in the cloning chamber as the stations computers registered the fires that raged below and the explosions of electronic equipment. Norongachi had never fired a blaster to the point where its energy cell had run dry but the 'click, click, click' told him he just had. Still the anger persisted, the guilt and worse than all of that was the look of hatred in those cerulean eyes. He threw the gun from the platform with a roar of unintelligible curses and then lashed out a kick at the safety rail, it gave way under the power of his anger and followed the blaster into the flaming devastation.

"Never again...." He spoke to the flames and erratic explosions, his heart was thundering, his body shaking as he sank onto his rump and reached into his armour belt for his hip-flask. A shaky armoured hand unscrewed the top and upended it into his mouth. "Never."

 

[Mao]

“Ya frakkin' liar!! Ya promise?! Promise !!? "the veins at Mao’s throat were straining in the volatile cocktail of her emotions; hate and grief, rage and sorrow, regret and woe. Damp tendrils of blue black hair falling over her eyes, the lines of her face sharpened to an almost feral quality.

“JUST LIKE WHEN YA CREATED ‘IM TA 'AVE THE FREEDOM YE BASTARD NEVER ‘AD!?” came the proverbial nails ripping from Mao’s mouth, spittle falling over her full lips as she struggled in Ghent’s arms.

“SO MUCH FER THE FRAKIN’ FREE WILL PROMISED TA YER OWN BLOODY SON!,” hot tears were pricking at her eyes, blinding her to the knowledge that he’d long since gone, only hearing the echoes of blaster fire resonating in her ears in the distance, fulling expecting one to end up lodged in her head soon enough.

Don't hesitate. Don't speak. Kill.

She almost had him. Just a flick of her wrist that's all.

But she couldn't. She hesitated. Hesitated at the turbulence in his eyes. A trick of the mind, an illusion surely. A glimmer of Sal.

She hesitated when she should have struck.

She hated herself for it.

“ A’HLL KILL YA OMEGA!” the Firrerreo jerked in Ghent’s arms, the strain in her muscles visible as he began to drag her back towards the exit, where an open cabinet would reveal rows of sedatives. The balls of her feet went scraping over the durasteel grate floor, scratching bloody smears as she fought as much as her weak body could give.

Sorrow. Rage. Regret. Hate. That very same anger that was lashing out at [member="Salem Norongachi"] was directed tenfold at herself. Sal. Sal.

Hubris and ego had been what kept them apart despite the closeness they shared mission after mission. Drink after drink. Smoke after smoke. Fight after fight.

What started out as annoyance, frustration, an urge to main, behead, stab incinerate and that’s on a good day mind you, turned into something else.

Hatred and suspicion turned into admiration. Admiration turned to respect. Respect turned to awareness.

Quit yer frakin leering, it makes ya look ugly. No, I take that back, yer just ugly.​

Desire. Trust.

Whose eyes are doing a circuit across my body right now hmm?​

Need --- Affection. Blasted affection for the son of a man she’d sent to the Nine Hells.

Or she thought.

Her rules of no fraternization firmly planted a wall that she wouldn’t dare to cross. Not again. Not since the Army of Light. Not since another man made her bitter.

Enter Sal.

The bloody git. The damn bloody git!

It hadn't been Sal that stared up at her in regret, fear, longing for the briefest of seconds. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Whatever she saw reflecting in his eyes that mirrored her own emotions had to be a lie.

Had to be. He was gone. Feck. FECK!

"YA ‘EAR ME!? KILL YA DEAD!!!"

The sting of a derma-needle to her neck would instantly transfer enough of a sedative to knock out a fully grown Wookiee. It’s what would be needed for one of the single digits, and ironically enough, to knock Mao out.

Her vision began to blur due to something other than rage and sorrow as that silver body began to slump against Ghent. The barest of whispers falling from the Firrerro's lips as she swore under her breath before the haze of the drugs slowly began to take.

“Ah’ll kill ya….Salem Norongachi.”

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Even with the blaring of alarms, the crackle and pop of fire and the electrical discharges of his outburst her voice still carried. The worlds stung, bit into his heart and engorged the guilt that had taken root from the moment he'd saw her but the very fact that such guilt even existed fuelled his rage. He'd lost more than she had ever had. A small woman, with small dreams shouting at the universe without ever trying to change it. She had never taken on all the powers of the Galaxy for her whole life in an effort to break the constant cycle of war that riddled the stars like a cancer.

She had never gambled everything.

And lost...

Omega had.

"Ghent, get her the hell out of here!" He roared, flecks of spit flying from a mouth with teeth bared. The fire suppression systems had kicked in, foam beginning to spill across the shattered cloning vats and quelling the results of his fury. A final nail in the coffin of what he had been, of everything that Omega had become synonymous with and like everything else he had ever done, he had hammered it in with his own hands.

The pieces were laid before him on the board, the way forward was as clear as it had always been. She should die and he should force his brothers to bend the knee once more. Even with Twelve of them it was a solid foundation for his machinations. The Hand of Fate was almost operational, he had the backing of the CIS and Crusaders.
It was more than he had to work with when this long and bloody road began nearly 800 years ago but this time he had something to hold onto, a scrap of humanity that he had denied himself in the past was now thrust upon him and he couldn't bring himself to let it go.

"Children of Talta," He said, pulling himself up onto his feet. He felt utterly exhausted but at peace with himself for the first time. "You have to decide, you have to decide where you go from here. You can leave and find your own meaning out there, in a Galaxy full of possibilities. Or you can stay, stand by me again. Help me move forward and build ourselves the lives we've all been longing for. This is your home, it will always be your home. If you leave it will be here waiting and so will I. I'm not perfect, the things I have done...." He trailed off, they all knew his past they had lived a great portion of it at his side.

"Family takes care of family. So as long as I draw breath, I'll never abandon you. No matter where you go. Say the word and I'll bring down everything I have against anything that stands against you." His words were beskar, said with little emotion but with utter commitment to what they meant.

"And that's it. I might fail again or I might succeed, I'm not making any promises this time." With that said he nodded to them and stalked off after Ghent who had carried [member="Mao"] in his arms out of the decimated cloning chamber.

"Heavy..." Commented Tezla as their oldest sibling walked away.

"Frak that guy! He ain't ever gonna change. Always with the big words but where the frak has it got us!" Hardock snarled, wiping the blood from his upper lip.

"I dunno..." Harkin said, the others that had come out of stasis after them were still dazed and confused too much to contribute to the discussion and these three had always been the leaders, before Omega had come back for them on Talta and liberated the Worldcraft.

"It -uh- ain't usually my -umm- bag to -ya know- play devils advocate but why ain't we dead? Why -just speaking my mind here- ain't the Major -uhh- kaput?" He finished with a shrugged and yawned before scratching his bare arsecheek.

"I don't even....what da hell is wrong with you numbskulls! Its OMEGA! The ass sent us into frak knows how many fights! And then...what happened with the kid...and the rest of us..." He trailed off as the stark recollection, even in stasis, of all those Omega Series Soldiers dying that they had each felt through the Force came back with a vengeance.

"Can you remember a time where he ever killed one of us, Hardock?" Harkin, always the voice of reason.

"I just SAID! He ordered us into battles against stuff that I don't even wanna think about again and then near wiped us the frak out! Ain't you listening bozo!?" He yelled, his face flushing with anger.

"He lead us into battle...against the same odds, always at the front...." Harkin responded, unphased by his brothers obvious rage at where the discussion was headed. "And Sal killed them, not him. Omega might have backed the kid into a corner but he chose them out there over us." He watched as the penny began to drop, he could almost see the pieces falling into place behind his brothers eyes. Hardock was always so easy to read. "Its getting cold, I'm going to get dressed."

"I dunno bro, I -HAHA- kinda like the breeze." Tezla smiled, either oblivious or uncaring to the decision each of them had just been asked to make as he followed in Harkins wake.

"I ain't buying it! I ain't! I can't! Blue don't believe him and I ain't either!" Hardock yelled after them but the pair had already left the chamber.

Salem found Ghent where he had expected to, outside Mao's old quarters his charge asleep inside. The clone, so distinct from the rest of them now by the affects of age and time nodded toward him as he moved down the corridor. "What should we do with her?" He asked as Norongachi came to a stop beside the closed door.

"Nothing." He responded laying a hand upon the cold metal of the door. "You still have serviceable ships aboard?" The clone nodded. "Then when she wakes up, tell her she can take one and leave if that's what she wants or she can stay. Its her home as much as ours." His eyes flicked to the door release panel, the temptation was so very strong but he couldn't face her right now. The wounds were too raw.

"As you command." Ghent replied automatically.

Salem turned away then, stalking back through the corridors with no clue about what would happen now. His old way had always been to manipulate the odds, to turn peoples own desires to his own ends. Now he'd left them with nothing but pure unadulterated choice and a few parting words. The variables were to random to accurately calculate and if he were perfectly honest he didn't have the strength left to try. He came to a stop outside what used to be his office, the door dusty from disuse. It swished open at his command and it were as if he'd never left. The desk was where it had been, the floor strewn with files and his chair overturned due to the explosions that had near ripped the station apart but the rest was as he remembered it.

A hand righted the chair and placed it at the desk before he sat, while his other hand opened a drawer and sure enough there was a now 700 year old bottle of Corellians finest. "Always a silver lining." He smiled as he unscrewed the top and took a long and much needed mouthful.

 

[Mao]

Within the confines of her room, Mao's body twitched. Head jerked. Fingers spasm-ed. But it was the nightmare that took her.

Words. Images. Faces. Shadowy figures of the past as the sedative ran her mind amuck.

​

For Brix sakes! The fraker is none other than his clone Ti! ​

​

A viridian blade came at her; parry, block, evade, curse… then a violent overhead slash, defense, and counter. Sweat dripped from her hair, and ran down in rivulets under her armor.

​

How about ya dance with me frakker. ​

​

One muscled arm and caught her at the shoulder blades and without even a look his other hand snatched the Whiskey from the air before it could shatter on the metal flooring. ​

​

That little boy's smile. Laser fire green eyes. ​

​

We are not just talking about any ol' fraking clone either; we are talking about Sith Lord Omega!​

A burst of repulsor engines and then the load crack of laser cannons and the flashed of red filling the hanger bay. ​

​

The scent of blood. Smoke. Death.​

​

Ah'll kill you Omega!​

​

I'll start a frakking flame in yer bloody heart.​

​

...yer bloody heart. ​

​

...bloody heart​

​

Heart.​

The cabin lights had been dimmed when she jerked awake with a gasp. Reality made its way back to Mao in small doses as her blurry vision fought to recognize her surroundings. Pain, rage, sorrow and fear shot through the Firrerreo with confusing awareness, her bare sweat slick body rising sharply into a half seated position. Her heart was thundering in her chest, hair sticking to her damp cheeks as vertigo made her head spin more at the sudden blood rush to her head.

Sal.

Only the soft lighting from the door's control panel illuminated the cabin, casting muted reflections upon the ceiling. Other than the constant hum of the drives and the steady hiss of the ventilation, all was quiet. The last thing she remembered was intolerable pain.

No, the last thing she remembered was...emerald.

Shreds of memory rose to the surface, only to vaporize into nothingness. It made her head hurt just trying to think. Everything was groggy, didn't make sense. Nicitating membranes went sweeping over turbulent blue, confusion washing her golden face as hands rose to rub it, a fine trembling betraying the turbulent emotions rushing through her veins as surely as her blood did.

That's when it came. LIke a shrill piercing scream in the dead of night.

Green eyes went blooming in her mind. Eyes upon a familiar face that was not so familiar at all.

The echoes of voices. The awareness. The damn bloody awareness. How did it happen? Why couldn't she remember?! Fingers went diving into her hair, pulling upon the blue black tresses as her breathing spiked.

Regret upon regret. Miss opportunities. Grief.

No.

Grieving wasn’t going to bring him back, and it sure wasn’t going to make her feel better about that bastard walking around alive somewhere. Oh the question was there, why was she still alive? Did he have another sick twisted plan up his sleeve within that sea of backups? Or did she managed to actually get to sear his neck off?

A’HLL KILL YA OMEGA

Involuntary tears threatened made her vision worse and threatened to spill, but she didn’t dare do it. No. Instead rage watered Mao’s soul. She wanted justice. She wanted revenge.

A’HLL KILL YA DEAD!

Mao flashed straight from numb to pain in the space of a heartbeat, immediately followed by a thick haze of rage that she welcomed like lover in the night.

A geyser of rage explodes within the Firrerreo, seeping into all the nooks and crannies her grief occupies. She welcomed it, encouraged it, genuflects to her new god. She baptized herself in its steaming, hissing fury, giving herself over.

She was now a woman with a single ambition.

[member="Salem Norongachi"] 's death.

Long legs soon went sliding off the edge of her bed, bare toes touching cold metal. Recognition at her old quarters means that her old gear would be here. Sithslayer or not. Phrik armor. Forcepike. Her swords. She didn't get the chance to take them last in the wake of Omega's sudden attack that blindsided them all.

Thoughts of Liberty Squad soon came to mind. Where were they? Did they manage to subdue Omega down? Did he kill them as well?

A snarl went ripping from her now silver lips as purposeful strides brought her to the walllocker. Her fingers barely went grazing over the stock of her Westar-34 blaster when the hiss of the door opening behind her brought her attention.

Her arm went snapping up in a heartbeat, her sight true, finger ready despite the lingering effects of the drugs. Black hair glinted with silver and an older wizened face stared impassively back at her.

"Major Mao," came Ghent's monotone voice, oblivious to the Firrerreo's lack of clothing.

"Feck off Ghent," she spat out at him through a thick fringe of narrowed eyes, breathing heavily. She knew how he worked. Literal to the core. True to orders. Regardless of what they might be.

"Where is he?" she didn't bring down her arm, no her arm stayed true. She had one thought in her mind, and one thought only. No question asking why she was still alive. No question wondering the particularities of just what Ghent might have been ordered to do.

Nope.

Just one thing.

Salem's location.

"Bout time you woke up, Blue," another voice joined the fray and the tip of her blaster went two inches to the right at the other figure behind Ghent. Hardock.

"WHOA, ain't me you gotta be worried bout Major Sweet Cheeks!" one would think the single digit clone would have held up his hands in surrender. He didn't. His face was a colorful map of yellow green hues. Meant one thing. She'd been out longer than a few hours.

She'd been out for days.

Hardock, not one to take the lovely view for granted, ever did get a leer in. He had to. Done be the second time around he's seen Mao in all her glory; and to echo Ghent's reasoning some 700 years prior, the Firrerreo's anger made her all the more alluring.

"Where. Tha frak. Is he?" came her low growl, clear she wasn't going to ask again.

Of course, leave it to Ghent with his horrible timing to butt in while Hardick pointed up in reference to Sal's former office.

"The Master relays that there is a serviceable ship for you to use if you choose to leave or stay, as this is much your home as ours, Major."

A sneer came to her silver face then.

"Does 'e now?" her free hand went ripping a hanger holding one of her black armor suits that matched Liberty Squads own.

"We'll see 'bout that.."

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The whiskey went down a treat. It helped, somewhat, to temper the inferno threatening to tear him apart. Boots sat atop the desk and memory after memory slipped from his mind. They had almost kissed right there on the other side of that desk, down the hallway he had asked her to the Lifeday Ball. A little further on he had had trained and drilled her and Ti'Cira in the art of fighting monsters. Then from somewhere amongst the fog of alcohol a voice launched a volley; No, old man, that was Sal.

"Doesn't change how I feel, though..." If only emotions were as easy to regulate and manipulate as sentients. He'd have turned it all around long before now, or would he? He wasn't sure any more, wasn't sure about anything. A whole life had been added to his own, one better than he could ever have hoped to live. Was that a mistake? Hadn't it been for something noble, something bigger than a single life?

"He'd probably have done it anyway....if I'd explained my plan..." He whispered to the darkness. That was the harshest realization of all after the memories began to merge. "Frak it!" His feet slipped off the desk and stamped angrily to the floor as he stood, his hand catching the underside of the desk and flipping it end over end to the other side of the room. It clattered against the wall as the chime sounded from the door.

It opened and he saw two faces he recognized. How could he not? They were his own. The pair looked at the disarray for a second and then stepped into the room and locked eyes with Omega. "Been busy I see..." Harkin said, nodding toward the bottle in his hand while Tezla lounged, if it were possible to lounge while standing, behind him.

"Its been a rough couple of days...." Norongachi responded, his voice tired. He ran a hand through his dark hair to give some semblance of order to it. "Is she awake?" They looked at each other, as if they assumed that he hadn't given her a thought since their reunion and then Tezla shook his head.

"Be out for awhile, the shock of stasis and that rancor tranq Ghent gave her..." Harkin seemed to see the question forming in Salem's mind and added. "She'll be all right though, she's a tough queen. Has to be to roll with us."

"Good." Was all the response they got and then silence fell between them.

"We talked with the other guys," Harkin could almost see him tense, as if he were waiting for another part of his world to fall out from under him. "They're staying. They didn't know [member="Mao"] all that well, not like we did and they don't know anything else since Talta, they aren't ready for the world out there yet. Hell, we aren't either..." He sighed. "We were close Omega, she's as much one of us as you are but....me and Tezla were talking, Sal wasn't there. He was a good kid, he really was but he wasn't on Talta. He didn't have to do the thing we all had to do just to survive in that meat-grinder and...he chose them." A hand gestured to the stars beyond the office viewport. "The way I was told it, the first thing you did when you found out Talta was still out there was plot and scheme to free us. Is that true?"

It was, as soon as he'd found a scrap of proof that it existed he'd lured the renegade Imperial into his web and drove a metal spike through his head for every single brother he'd ever lost. That was a memory he could be proud of, one he could look back on and say he did the right thing from start to finish.

"I did what I had to." Was his flat response.

"You did." Chimed in Tezla.

"You always have. Its what we were trained to do." Harkin shrugged again. "It doesn't excuse what you did but we understand it. You had our back from the start, in your own frakked up cold and calculating way."

"Harkin, you're my brother and I love you but I've had a week..." Norongachi forced a very weak smile.

"We're staying with you. Hardock on the other hand....I dunno, that might be up to you. He has a soft spot for the Major. Always has since she put him in his place." He snapped to attention then, the black fabric of his body glove whispering in the silence. "We're glad you're home. Let us down again and we'll kill you, Sir."

"Catch you on -uhh- the flip-side bossman." Tezla said with as close to a salute as you could get off the guy. They left and took with them a greater weight than they'd ever know. That left Mao and Hardock, two conversations that he was not looking forward to or felt he were capable of having.

His ass hit the lonely chair amongst the chaos of his office and the bottle rose to his lips. It helped, he told himself.

 

[Mao]

You know the definition of crazy, right?​

As Mao strode down worn familiar durasteel corridors, her boots thudding a determined tattoo upon that metal grate floor, set expression on her silver face, those very mockery of words went echoing in her ears.

The beady eyes of Ysalamiri were following them as they passed underneath. Therein came the knowledge of an advantage. A lack of pull from the Force. Good. Didn’t mean she would put her guard down. Their fight on the Night Gate proved that Omega didn’t need the Force to be deadly. It was okay though. She’d learned a hell of a lot more tricks since then.

Even after seven-hundred years - although really, time, era, and just where the frak state of the galaxy was didn’t concern Mao - her phrik armor fit like a snug glove. Her cortosis swords at her back, shiv at her boot, Westar blaster on her right thigh and sonic pistol at her left. Every jarring step sent the bi-coloured strands of blue and black hair to brush over her shoulders. She wore no helmet or protective visor. No, she wanted to get a nice unimpaired line of sight of Omega’s eyes when she was done with him.

She wanted to see the light fade from [member="Salem Norongachi"] ‘s eyes. She wanted to make sure once and for damnable all that he was gone. Done. Dead. Scattered to the karkin ends of the galaxy so he would not come back again.

He had no right to Sal’s body. No frakin’ right.

Chains of memories were threatening to fall out of that pandora’s box of sorrow and grief she held at the deepest part of her core, but she blocked them. Couldn’t let it distract her.

Couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t.

Ghent, well. Ghent was Ghent and he had not been given any other directive other than to relay what Salem told him to. Quirks can certainly bloom in any normal sentient’s mind after seven hundred years of solitude. Maybe it was the programing. Maybe it was just a need to continue his original task of caring for the well-being of the Master. Or maybe he simply had an indescribable need for other sentient contact.

Didn’t matter. Like a silent stoic warden he followed without a hurried step or concern; ever watching and ever ready.

Two tall broad bodies in black body gloves appeared in her line of vision. Hardin and Telza. A few more steps and she could see the rest of Liberty Squad among them. A quick mental count confirmed them all. Well, that answered another question. At least they weren’t dead.

They’d been working on patching up some of the more livable areas, and it didn’t take a Forcer to feel the proverbial waves of pissed off Mao radiating from her silver body. Tezla turned to Harkin and gave a visible grimace along with his usual shrug of his shoulders and half canted nod.

“Yo -ahh- you think’ what I’m thinkin’ she’s -ahh- “ Tezla began, only to be cut off as Hardin gave a curt nod.

“Aye.”

“Think we should -ahh- stop her ey?” came his question, the others slowly pausing in their work.

“Think anyone can stop the Major?” came his low commentary, malachite orbs following the trainwreck that was the blue haired shutta that managed to fit right in with them for so long.

Tezla gave a cluck of his tongue, only to shrug. It didn’t need to be said. There was no force in the ‘verse that could stop her now, other than the bossman himself. And granted, the lass managed to get the upper hand on him twice. Now it could be arguable that both instances may not have been solely on her own accord, and that the first death lay in the plan Omega had to begin with while the second was when fighting along with the youngest of ‘em.

However one may put it, if the bossman couldn’t handle Mao in her banshee fury, well, then there you have it. Survival of the fittest might be a particular twisted kind of view to have, but it was what it was and that be the tale.

Clear as day, ain’t none of them gonna get in between Omega and Mao. This was their fight. Much for Mao as it was for Salem.

Then again, tell that to Hardock. He was gunning for a fight. He always was.

“I got your arse, Blue!” came Hardock’s words from behind, his long legs keeping up with her purposeful own.

To the outsider looking in, one could almost see the resemblance of one of the Imperial’s finest genetic creations of war to a Kathhound pup

Almost.

If said pup was five liters of crazy in a two liter bucket with a rabid bite to boot. Maybe there was something about the Omega strain that reacted innately to volatile women. Maybe it was just one of the quirky and crazed sideeffects of all that genetic manipulation. Either way, it was clear Hardock was fond of the wench.

To degrees, they all were. Pity that due to Mao’s blinded fury fueled haze of vengeance, she would not see that same fondness Sal had for the woman reflected in Salem’s eyes.

This was no holo-tale though. No Ghostling story. There was no happily everafter nor is this tale full of heroes or heroines.

This was reality. This was the line of demarcation. That set distinction of where she began and where he would end.

The doors of his office were in her line of sight. One hand pulled a sonic grenade from her belt. Gloved thumb went hooking on the ring and with an experienced flick, sent the arming key ring flying, where it clattered to the ground, the pressure of her fingers the only thing keeping that timer from activating.

You know the definition of crazy, right?​

The answer to that roared in the haze of her focused fury.

Keep doing the same thing over and over and expecting it to come out different.​

Maybe she was crazy. Certainly been called worse, but who the frak cares? Either way, crazy or not, she had a mission. She just didn’t give a flying karkin brix anymore. The particularities of just where her sanity levels were in regards to the rest of the sentient galactic populace could kiss her silver fethin’ arse.

There would be no hesitation this time.

None.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The room had been brought back to some semblance of order since Harkin and Tezla had left. The alcohol set aside and his natural super charged metabolism bringing something akin to clarity to his mind. The ancient paper work lay in neat stacks upon the righted desk, arranged not by importance but by nostalgic value. Republic data, Imperial troop and fleet movements, points of interest for future raiding operations. It cast his mind back a millennia, to a simpler time when he knew every player on the board and how the game was played.

The slip of flimsiplast he held in his hand, while the other let a cigarra smoulder into the dull light of a desk lamp, had much of his attention. A simple commendation to the Republic, one that he had never personally sent but he could just as easily remember signing it.

"For acts of bravery, skill and cunning above and beyond the call of duty, I, Sal Norongachi of the Irregular outfit known as Talta hereby submit Major Lis'sah [member="Mao"] for promotion to Captain..." The ash from his cigarra dropped then in a spiralling shower of grey onto the desk top just as the door opened and a plink-plink-plink was the only sound as the small metal orb bounced into the tiled floor.

"Shi-" The grenade went off, the shock wave blasting the desk and himself against the transparasteel behind them with such force that it cracked upon impact. Norongachi's body hit the deck and he hacked up a mouthful of blood before eyes that had previously misted over with nostalgia set into hard, deadly emeralds. The stunning effect had been somewhat negated by the casual intervention of the solid synthwood desk but his ears still rung as he rose, his hands balling into fists so tight that the bones pushed against the skin. "Whenever you're ready Major..." He spoke coldly to the open door.

 

[Mao]

Cobalt fire met cold Emerald as one hand went slapping the locking mechanism of the door just before Ghent or Hardock would be able to follow her in, the door quickly sliding shut in the time that [member="Salem Norongachi"] ’s body went flying to crack against the transparasteel.

Shoulds of objections were heard as a loud pounding resonated from the other side of the thick reinforced steel, but Mao wasn’t stopping to explain.

This was between Omega and her.

. Melee combat with Omega taught her many things from a lifetime ago. Training and fighting alongside Liberty squad taught her even more. Range was the best bet especially if Omega was cut off from the Force.

So, it was with no surprise that the Firerreo had her blaster up in the palm of her hand with a hellishly determined bit of aim. So that by the time Salem had straightened back to his feet and just before he finished his opening spat, Mao was already sending a volley of red bolts right for his chest.

When one had a death sentence in mind, you didn’t waste time with words. If you were intending to kill, you do it quickly and efficiently. No dramatic speeches, no detailing of what would be the great master plan.

You just did it.

Cold and calculated? Perhaps. But Mao wasn’t in quite the right frame of mind to consider the morality of things. The cry for vengeance sang through her veins and went pumping with the fury of the Nine Hells. Only Salem’s death would sate her. That was all she could think about.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Norongachi was moving the moment [member="Mao"] squeezed the trigger, diving for the floor behind the desk but not quick enough. He could smell his own cooked flesh as his body hit the deck, a searing red line across his right shoulder and the metallic tinge of carbon scored durasteel where a bolt had hit his chest plate.

She wasn't fraking around and he had little wish to die today. A boot swung at the table before him, enhanced muscle sent it flipping across the floor toward her legs and then he was scrabbling to the right and running. Keeping low, he built up speed and then launched himself into the air. A boot hit the wall to his right and he pushed off immediately toward her, a fist snapping back and then launching forward at her face as he was within striking distance.

 

[Mao]

Legs coiled and bunched before reflexively bolting upward like massive pistons, up and over the desk.

Feet landed, and [member="Salem Norongachi"] was upon her, her body coordinating into a conditioned response; she hadn't trained with Liberty for nothing. Swift footwork, muscles tensing, coiling, and here came the parry to the blow that would have struck a bloom of fire across a silver cheek.

Let’s dance Twinkletoes

Words of the past would haunt her. Another fight another time. The parry would open it up for the trigger to be pulled at point blank range. So close.

Denied.

Movements were fluid, he came at her with precision, blocked her attack as her arm went up and out, bolts of red went to scorch a strafe of charred holes upon the ceiling.

I don’t want to set the worllllldddd on fireeee…

A savage curse went ripping from her mouth. Twin sapphire orbs went glittering through the sheer curtain of blue and black hair that covered her face, and if looks could kill, the one that went distorting the Firrerreo’s molten silver features would have struck Omega down.

I just want to starrtt a flame in your --

Left foot braced her weight, her right foot coming up to send him back in a savage kick aimed for his chest.

...Hearrrrrt.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

It was a feral clash of predators. Hands were flickering shadow. Attack. Parry. Counter. Feet always moving, never staying still. They seemed to almost hover in the small three by three area of the room. A flash would punctuate the melee as [member="Mao"] sought to end him with her blaster but always Norongachi matched her with a rebuttal that sent the deadly energy wide.

Their faces were mirrors of raw, unchecked, emotion focused entirely on the downfall of their adversary. A break in contact was all Mao needed to send a viscous kick toward his chest. A half step back, a twist of his upper body and he had his left arm locked around her calf, pinning against his torso. The right rose up sharply, elbow pointed like a blade but before he could bring it down on the vulnerable knee she raised her gun and loosed a shot.

He lost his grip in the evasion, dipping down and sweeping his leg across the floor to clip her on the back of the heel. She went down, back slamming against the unforgiving floor but whether dazed or not the counter-attack was just as swift; Legs whipping up and around in a figure of eight that caught him clean across the jaw and knocked Norongachi onto his side. He tasted blood in his mouth as his teeth bared themselves to the world.

They locked eyes for the briefest of seconds, the Firrerreo's eyes flicked to her pistol lost in the fall and then in the time between heartbeats he had all her attention, which was just as well because Omega was lunging for her; Like a rancor upon a bantha. A snap punch went for her face as he fell atop her and then another, and another. Blind fruitless fury that he couldn't keep contained any longer.

 

[Mao]

Mao would taste the tang of metal fill her mouth, shards of pain lancing through her skull as his fist sent a blossom of fire across her cheek. His heavy weight was upon her, but she wasn’t about to let him continue having that advantage.

It wasn’t the first time she’d bucked him off.

Wrath met wrath, and like to titans of war they clashed against each other with a blindless fury. Nictitating membranes would automatically sweep over electric blues to protect her eyes from the drops of sweat and blood splattering upon her. A heavy grunt would rip through her lips, sharp pointed teeth gnashing as her feet would plant, while her arms would rise to provided body hardened forearms to block his punches. Block. Block. Parry. Parry.

Leverage would come as strong abdominal muscles would compress to lift her in a sit up, her head coming to snap hard and give him a keldabe kiss right on the facer.
She wasn’t going to be the only one seeing stars. This, however, would only set him off balance, but it was all Mao needed, that extra split second of attention taken off her.

A rabid cry of rage would tear from her throat, silver skin glistening as she would then use the point of advantage to twist and shove Omega off. Her hand would reach out and just like a vice and grab him by the throat, shoving him back and down as her body would curl to follow.

Twin sapphire orbs would glitter through the sheer curtain of blue and black hair as that predatory form would pin him down, and much like the Force hunting Vornskr attacking the beady eyed Ysalamir that would null [member="Salem Norongachi"] ’s power, send her rippling body over his as if for the kill. A kiss of metal would deftly be palmed in the shell of her free hand, that predictive shiv, holstered at her boot, as knees straddled his sides, that flash of silver coming down to strike at his chest.

Would it hit? Who knew. The frakking bastard!

Her vision would blur. From the rage. From the blood. From the sweat.

From the moisture in her eyes that she just couldn't seem to hold back.