Private Yeah! Science bi**ch! (Beltran Rarr and Palm-Imer)

Beltran Rarr · Aug 10, 2020

The Planet Irith
(On the border of Silver Jedi Concord and unclaimed Wild Space)

Adaarack City (present day)

Beltran shouldered his way through the mob of beings trying to get out of the incoming rain storm. To his right and left, back and front, hundreds of Twi'leks, Gamorreans, Nikto, Humans, Zeltrons and several beings from races Beltran didn't know off the top of his head, pushed at each other. Overhead, there was a muffled boom of thunder. It was followed quickly by a crack of strange, yellowish lightning which lit up one of the foreboding dark grey clouds.

Ash clouds, they were called, and not just because of the colour. Millennia of industry had kicked up so much crud and pollutants into the atmosphere that large deposits of actual ash somehow bonded to the evaporated water vapor. This caused the water that precipitated to rain down as an almost tarry like substances that stuck to everything and was thoroughly toxic. It was needless to say that this world's entire water table had long ago stopped being viable.

Ducking passed a couple of broad shoulder Devaronians, Beltran found cover underneath the canvas awning of a fruit merchant. The being, a diminutive looking Dug, growled at him speaking loudly in Huttese.

"Bedwan! Uba bedwan! Uba bedwan ateema!"

With a slight sigh, Beltran reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a cred-chit, which he tossed underhanded to the merchant. From the way the being's eyes bulged, Beltran suspected that it held enough to buy half the cart. Taking an orange fruit, Beltran bit into it and munched while looking out at the now thoroughly pouring ash-rain. "Another day," He muttered to himself. "Another feth-hole."

Officially, he was on leave from the Antarian Rangers. Unofficially, he was conducting an investigation into the disappearance of several hundred sentients over the past year or so. He didn't have much to go on, as Hutt controlled planets rarely had anything in the way of a constabulary beyond the muscle that the individual Hutt's used to guard themselves with. But Ranger intelligence kept it's ear to the ground on all the planets within the Silver Sphere and something was definitely up here.

Entire outlying villages had sudden become deserted, leaving no trace of the inhabitants. And now, the crews of a couple trading vessels had also suffered mass disappearances. Normally, in an of themselves, this might not have warranted the dispatch of an operative like Beltran, but the whole area was at risk of attack by the ever-expanding Bryn'adul. Their loss at Yurb might have been a set back, but Beltran knew that the creatures wouldn't stop, and he expected that their next strike might not be so....obvious.

Luckily for Beltran, the ash-rain subsided quickly as it tended to do. Pulling up the collar of his jacket over his neck, he nodded to the fruit merchant and tossed the core of whatever he'd just eaten on the ground. Hutt worlds also weren't known for their cleanliness. He then began to walk, merging easily into the crowd of beings who'd also started to resume their business. He had a contact waiting, at a small tinker's shop down the way. Little Jawa traded in information as much as she traded in spare parts. If anyone knew what was going on, it would be Dukky of Dukky's Discount Salvage Emporium!

Palm-Imer · Aug 11, 2020

Location: Adaarack City.
Objective: Find missing Geminians, retrieve lost cargo, gather information.
Wearing: X ~ Hooded Cloak.
Equipment: The Wraith Blades (clipped at lower back, concealed by cloak) ~ 2x Blasters (hip holsters) ~ Laser cutter.
Tagging:

Beltran Rarr

The geminaie was sitting cross-legged on the floor of her chambers within the Stygian Vagabond. Meditation had never come naturally easy to her, but after years of practice and now in control of her focus and behavior, clearing her mind was something achieved without a lot of difficulty. She had a task ahead, and a hollow feeling that was all too familiar was warning her of challenges to come. The Force whispered to her, but rarely were its words clear, its cautions mostly vague. This was to be accepted, and danger was part of her line of work. All there was left to do was prepare, and carry out her task to the best of her ability. In the end, that was all that mattered.

Knowing the time to leave was near, Palm slowly opened her eyes and felt how her body began waking up from its relaxed state to get ready for movement. She stood up to her full height, and with a pace and manner that could only be described as methodical and purposeful, the Ambassador changed her clothes for ones more appropriate for her mission and geared up. Before leaving the room, her deft fingers grabbed hold of a small bottle containing iron pills. She took one, downing it with no need of water. Taking pills was one thing she had grown too used to since her departure from her home-world, such was the fate of all space-bound geminaie. She contemplated the bright orange color of the plastic bottle for a moment, and finally decided to stash it in one of her pockets instead of returning it to its shelf. The ones she was looking for might need them.

The Stygian Vagabond descended on a landing bay and not long after, the Ambassador would exit the ship and swiftly begin following her intended path through the city. There was no happy reason as to why she had been sent to the slum planet that was Irith. Used to the fresh breeze of the mountains and the lively landscapes of her planet, city worlds were not among her favorite. But this, polluted air and toxic waters, was something she had only pictured in nightmares. It would have been easy to empathize with its citizens, but they didn't really seem to care.

In a different scenario, Palm would have found the time to better observe her surroundings and find redeemable qualities, the jewels among the dark smog that filled Adaarack City. For now, however, her mind was focused on a different front. Days ago a Geminian trading ship had signaled its distress call back to Geminidae before losing all communications. The inhabitants of the Wild Space planet, being of a paranoid nature, had conducted their investigations and came to the conclusion that the trade ship had been assaulted and boarded, its crew taken captive while alive. Most people would not have been able to provide this much information, but the fact that all geminians had an implant constantly recording information about their bodies and feeding said information to a system did come in handy in more ways than one. The people were alive, at least when they were taken.

A short time after even their implants stopped providing information, that either meant they were dead or kept someplace that impeded the chips' signals. There was no doubt in her heart that finding the crew was her main objective, but these were not her orders. The Ambassador had been instructed to find and secure the cargo first, apparently whatever that trading ship was carrying seemed to be more important the crew. This left a bitter taste in her mouth, orders were orders and no matter how sure she was of her actions it always made her feel anxious when she decided to oppose them. Yes, her people would be first. If this meant not being able to retrieve the cargo, she'd at least destroy it and then bare the consequences.

A light ringing on the earpiece of her commlink alerted her that she had made it to her destination. A small shop, owned by a Jawa. An information broker, of course, among other things. According to her colleagues who had looked into the issue before Palm was assigned to it, it was only a matter of asking around for a bit, bribing the right people and intimidating a few before all fingers pointed towards the Jawa. She entered the store, almost silently, but the Jawa known as Dukky was already standing at attention behind a counter, on top of a stool for otherwise her short-stature would keep her from seeing anything. "Good Evening, I'm looking for information on CrimaCorp. I'm sure you've heard of them." Her voice was even, the seriousness in her tone indicating the gravity of the matter and the tingling of a bag full of credits hidden somewhere among her cloak the promise of reward for the Jawa's knowledge.

Then a feeling suddenly overcame the Ambassador as she sensed something and turned around to look at the door seconds before it opened. In came a man. If he had a very keen ear and had been paying attention, he might have heard her words even if they were spoken softly. And so the honey-eyes of the geminaie remained on his form, ready to discover if this was a friend, a foe, or just a passerby going about his business. Her instincts told her the latter was definitely not it.

Beltran Rarr · Aug 11, 2020

Beltran stepped into the shop meeting the woman's honey-brown eyes with his cool green. As a Lorrdian, Beltran had an uncanny ability to read people and from her body language, she had known he was coming. That was something that surprised him, given that he had no small measure of talent when it came to travelling quietly.

Perhaps she sensed me through the Force. He mused silently. Beltran was still very new to all this Force stuff. Since his early lessons via his late father's holocron, and picking up some skills here and there from those he came into contact with at Silver's Rest on Kashyyyk, Beltran had been able to reliably call on the Force to do small things. Enhancing his speed and strength being the most commonly used. But the way that some Jedi and Sith seemed to be able to sense one another? That still remained a mystery to the Lorrdian, and along with it any way of dampening his own presence.

He could see from the woman's body language that she wasn't sure of his intentions. He had, in fact, heard the request she'd made to the small cloaked Jawa, and he nodded toward Dukky.

"Tedd shash haku wants keekah she."* He told the diminutive being in Huttese.

"Utinni!" Dukky exclaimed. It was difficult for Beltran to read Jawas, but he suspected that Dukky was less than thrilled to have two strangers come into her shop and start ordering her around. "Who Akriwi Juwi? Why Ikee tell Juwi anything?"**

Beltran could hear the few words in basic that Dukky peppered into her speech and it told him enough to know that he could switch to basic. "Because," He replied. "She is prepared to hand you a small fortune. And if you help her, I'll hand you a large one."

"Peeth!" Dukky spat. "CrimaCorp givwi Dukky bigga toineepa be quiet. Theywi kill Dukky if she talk."***

"But you did talk," Beltran replied slowly. "You told us everything we wanted to know. At least that's what the lady here and I are going to say when we head down to Teema's palace for a drink. And we'll say it very very loudly."

"Utinni! No do that, Ikee tell juwi. Ikee tell!"****

As it turned out, Dukky didn't know much about CrimaCorp. They'd arrived on Irith about a year ago and set up shop under the guise of helping the poor. They'd opened up several non-profit clinics throughout the planet while employing several hundred beings in their pharmaceutical plant, located on the outskirts of the city.

As Dukky heard it, Teema the Hutt-the local gangster overlord for this area-took exception to all the free healthcare being offered by this group and sent a bunch of thugs to the plant to shut things down. Apparently they never returned. A few days later, Teema was visited by a representative of the group and after a conversation behind closed doors, all of a sudden the Hutt was on board with all of the corporation's initiatives.

Beltran nodded and handed Dukky a not-so-small amount of cred-sticks. He then turned to the woman and said, "I think you should let me buy you a drink. We need to get on the same page." With a quick nod to the door, indicating that the woman should come with him, he left and began to walk casually down the street. He was fairly sure that she would follow him, judging by the bright spark of curiosity he saw in her eyes.

Upon arriving at a nearby dive bar, Beltran led

Palm-Imer to a booth near the back and slid in. Once drinks were ordered, a Corellian whiskey for him and whatever she wanted for her, he began to speak. "I'm going to level with you," He said simply. "My name is Beltran and I work for an organization known as the Antarian Rangers. We work in support of the Silver Jedi Order and the new Concordia government on Commenor. The reason I'm telling you all this is because I need to know who you are and why you're asking about the very group I've been sent here to investigate."

Sitting back in his seat, Beltran took a sip of his whiskey and sighed. "It would be nice, just for once, for there to be decent whiskey on one of these planets." While his tone appeared casual, his body language was anything but. He was ready to react at a moment's notice if the woman, or anybody else for that matter, became hostile.

*"Tell her what she wants to know."
**"Who are you? Why I tell you anything?"
***CrimaCorp give Dukky big credits to be quiet. They'll kill Dukky if she talks."
****"Don't do that, I tell you. I tell!"

Palm-Imer · Aug 12, 2020

The Ambassador slowly turned back around to face Dukky as the man approached and addressed the Jawa. Her Huttese wasn't the best, but she could understand enough of it to pick up on the beginning of their conversation without the need to use the Force. Her attention, however, remained placed mostly on the man. He was force-sensitive, that much she was sure of. Truth was Palm didn't know him, but the Jawa seemed to believe differently as her bright eyes traveled between them as if they would disappear if she willed it enough. So the Ambassador kept her silence, offering a small acknowledging nod to the stranger and expecting the Jawa to reconsider her decision not to speak.

Choosing to relax, Palm placed on of her feet on top of a small box that lay forgotten on the shop's floor, her elbow then rested on top of the counter and her hand served as support for her chin. It was an old climber's habit, to save all the ounces of energy she usually spent on good posture and presence for when they were truly needed. Plus, her new position stole some of the distance between the Jawa and her which seemed to have an effect on Dukky. Harmless pressure, useful none the less. A small, almost imperceptible smirk stretched the corner of her lip as the man mentioned Teema, and her brown eyes met his. He was a smart one, it seemed.

That was all it took for the Jawa to start talking. The information was not particularly promising for the mission ahead, but it did have value. They had opened clinics, which sounded like quite an ambitious enterprise for a 'non-profit' group. This led Palm to believe they would be dealing with some king of laboratory or otherwise science-related facility. This brought both a sense of confidence and dread, which she quickly drowned and processed objectively. After all, Palm was familiar with TabulaInc. On the one hand, she knew what to expect if her assumption was right which provided an advantage but on the other hand, if CrimaCorp was anywhere near Tabula in the level of security applied to their facilities, her mission would prove to be even more difficult than she had initially anticipated.

Once all was said, Palm turned her head slightly to the side as the man addressed her. She straightened her back once more, placing another bag of credits on the counter which the Jawa greedily took. "I'll be right behind you." She spoke, keeping to her word and following him. The short walk to the bar was spent in silence. Most would have called it an uncomfortable one, but such feelings were very foreign for a Geminaie and what they needed to discuss was better kept to the secluded environment of a bar booth anyways. Soon enough they were seated, and a glass of retsa placed before her. The man cut to the chase, and Palm was pleasantly surprised by his frankness. Her expression remained mostly neutral, but friendly and representative of her curiosity and attention.

Her code forbid her from disclosing her orders, and

Beltran Rarr did not seem like the type of person who would easily buy a lie. Pressed for time and deciding to honor his own honesty, the geminaie answered as sincerely as was possible. "I am Ambassador Palm-Imer, from the planet Geminidae." It was possible that the man did not know of her home-world, usually only those who traded with her people had heard of it. However, if he did, then he would know that her title meant she was a diplomat, a politician. Not someone meant to be deployed for this type of missions. "However, I have other skills too. One of our trading ships - along with all its crew - has gone missing. We tracked the incident back here, and as I'm sure you have too, we heard rumors. Time is of the essence and I was nearest, hence why I was assigned," The rest was easy enough to deduce, she was here to unveil the mystery, and her task could potentially become a rescue mission. She took a long sip of the retsa, one of the very few drinks she had grown fond of since leaving Geminidae.

It seemed they were potential partners in this little detour she had to take from her exploration details, and so Palm produced a small datapad and placed it on the surface of the table, sliding it towards Beltran. In it, he would be able to see all the information she had gathered about CrimaCorp besides what they had just heard from Dukky. Most importantly, there was a blueprint of the city and an area of it was marked: potential location of CrimaCorp's command center, deduced by the positioning of its other clinics and branches. "I could gather no solid pointers, but its still better than nothing." As she waited for the Ranger's opinion, she made sure to remain attentive of her surroundings and kept an eye on the bar's door.

Beltran Rarr · Aug 13, 2020

Beltran listened quietly, raising his eyebrow slightly as she introduced herself as an ambassador. Most diplomats that he'd had the chance to meet were decadent, high-born types who were far more interested in attending dinner parties and galas than actually getting their hands dirty. Now Beltran had to admit, he too had a taste for the finer things, but nobody could accuse him of not putting in the work when it was needed.

He also had never heard of Geminidae, but that didn't throw him. He was from Lorrd, located on the other side of the Sith Empire. Also, most of his career with the Antarian Rangers had been spent fighting the Sith on the border they shared with the Silver Jedi Concord to the galactic east. It wasn't until the rise of the Bryn'adul that the Rangers turned their attention toward the region known as Wild Space. Without reacting, he simply filed the name away for further study.

"A pleasure to meet you, Palm-Imer." He said. "And I appreciate your openness. What you've told me lines up with what we've been seeing." He took a moment to look over the information that she had gathered. "Very impressive," He told her honestly. He doubted that anyone within the Rangers could have done any better. "I suspect you're right about that area being the headquarters as it's the only place not easily accessible to the public. I suspect they're using the clinics to lure in their targets and then transferring them back to this location where they can proceed with whatever it is they are doing."

"Under normal circumstances," He continued. "This is the point where I would conduct surveillance and then call in a strike team to hit the facility. But you've mentioned that your people were taken recently. I can't say for sure what they are doing with the people they are taking, but since none of those who've disappeared have been found, I doubt they are still alive. That means that if we're to get your people back, we'll need to go immediately-just the two of us."

It was a lot for a man like Beltran to extend such a hand of trust to someone he'd just met. In fact, it was quite out of character. But there was something in the way she spoke and conducted herself that told him that she could be relied upon. And his instincts had always been very good in that manner, so he decided to go with them. "I have some gear back at my safehouse if you need anything. That is, assuming you're up for this?"

Palm-Imer · Aug 14, 2020

Palm listened carefully as he made his assessment of their current situation. She was a planner; premeditation, objectivity and analysis were three of the strongest drives in her mind and way of working. It was only natural, then, for her not to feel comfortable when information was as scarce as it was now. And yet Beltran's conclusion was right, there was not much they could do if they wanted to have a chance to retrieve the people alive, should that be possible. Waiting for a strike team would have been the safest option, but not one for her. It came as a surprise to the geminaie that the man still spoke as if that wasn't an option for him either. Nothing was stopping him from making her an enemy, calling for his strike team and waiting it out. People being helpful or even remotely collaborative was sadly a rare occurrence in the galaxy.

A soft smile set on her lips and she nodded, not one to question his judgement if it meant she would have back-up. That tense feeling she had harbored since her landing in Irith seemed to grow stronger by the minute and knowing there would be another pair of capable hands brought some ease to her mind. Trusting was a hard thing to do, specially for people like her who were destined to live most of their life in secrecy, but Beltran seemed like a fair enough option to make that gamble.

A small sigh escaped her lips before her voice followed, "I need a clear conscience to sleep at night so yeah, I'm down," The crew could already be dead for all they knew, but if they weren't it wouldn't sit well with her to hole up someplace safe and lessen their chances of making out alive. "I don't like our odds but it could be worse," Most of the time she was a realist, but a little optimism never hurt anyone.

She had been a moment away from declining his offer to go to his safehouse, after all she was more of a hand-to-hand combatant and if her sabers weren't up to the task then she doubted her chances would be better with any other weapon. However, something stopped her from doing so. The sound of an opening door caught her attention. It didn't come from the front of the bar which she had been carefully guarding all this time but from the back door, and once her eyes set on the two figures that entered it was clear that they weren't any kind of staff or common patrons. The two men, tall and bulky, sized both Beltran and Palm up, before doing the same with the rest of the people present. They were wearing security uniforms, and the logo of CrimaCorp sat proudly on the left corner of their chests.

For a moment it had seemed that they were here for them, it wouldn't have been hard to believe for often the walls had ears and rumors traveled fast. Luckily this did not seem to be the case. The bar was no longer a good place to continue their conversation, and so when her amber eyes returned to Beltran she finished the last of her drink and spoke softly, "Let's go." She stood up from her place and once he did too, followed him out of the bar and through the dodgy streets of Adaarack City. A short while after, they reached their destination.

One of her hands raised to shoulders to begin unclasping the fastening that held her cloak to her form once they were within a safe space again, "Antarian Rangers, you said," Her gaze held a certain curiosity, she had been considering whether to ask or not but given they were now partners in a high-risk operation it seemed appropriate, "I know you are force-sensitive, but are you a Jedi?" Then the cloak was finally free and she bundled it up in her hands before folding it neatly, the guard-shotos clasped to the back of her belt were now easily visible. It would be in their best interest to be silent and quick when they finally made the move towards CrimaCorp's facilities, the cloak would only be a bother and he was bound to see her weapons at some point. It was always good to know the abilities of one's partners, might as well get that sorted now.

Beltran Rarr

Beltran Rarr · Aug 14, 2020

"I need a clear conscience to sleep at night so yeah, I'm down. I don't like our odds but it could be worse."

Beltran wasn't a man generally prone to humor, or even smiling, but

Palm-Imer 's words elicited a slight smirk from him. "Once you get to know me," He told her as he finished off the last of his not-Corellian whiskey. "You'll like our odds a whole lot better." This wasn't a cocky boast, though Beltran wouldn't have faulted Palm if she chose to take it that way. Beltran was something of a force-multiplier. Sowing death and destruction were like an art-form to him and few things gave him such satisfaction.

It was at this point that the pair of CrimaCorp guards, Beltran silently named them Tweedle-D and Tweedle-Dum respectively, stepped into the bar like a pair of top-tier hoverball players in a locker room. They were each bigger than he was, and both looked gruff and mean and ready to start trouble at a drop of the hat. Essentially they were the poster boys for the "first guys to die in a fight" club.

While he wasn't particularly worried about them, he agreed with Palm's assessment. Talking openly around them was stupid, and taking them out just to prove he could was even more stupid. An operation like this worked best if the enemy didn't know you were coming. So he nodded and stepped out of the booth, leaving a few cred-chits on the table to pay for their tab and headed for the front door with the woman in tow.

Once they were back at his safehouse-a barren one-bedroom apartment on the top level of a mid-range high-rise in a bad part of town. Beltran took off his jacket and tossed it on the dining room table-the only real piece of furniture in the place. Underneath he wore a black t-shirt which was tight enough to show his powerful musculature. His arms were covered in faded, old looking, gang tattoos and were pocked and marked with dozens of scars. In a few places, pieces of strange looking cybernetic technology could be seen poking out from his skin.

On the table, several dozen blasters and projectile weapons could be seen. Each of them was a non-descript, common variety used by criminals in this area of space. Nothing he had, except perhaps the dented lightsaber hilt on his waist band, could have marked him as anything other than a common merc or thug.

"The Rangers," Beltran said slowly, searching for the best answer to her question. "Are a para-military organization that has worked in support of the Silver Jedi for several years. With the new organization of Concordia, I don't know exactly where we will fit in. I know they are looking to build up some kind of unified defense force, so perhaps we will be absorbed into that."

Beltran's thoughts turned briefly to Sergeant Tulan Kor, currently on the run from the Silver Jedi for the assassination of the Duros Senator from the Galactic Alliance. Many in the Rangers, Beltran included, held loyalty to the Gunny. So he suspected that integration into the greater government would not proceed smoothly, or at all. "And no," He continued. "I am not a Jedi. My father was a Jedi, but he died before I was born. I suspect I inherited my Force sensitivity from him. I've recently learned a little from a holocron of his that I....found. I've also learned a few things from some of the Jedi, but the Order as a whole hasn't been especially keen to bring me in. I don't exactly fit the image. Also, I tend to think that about 80% of them are useless windbags, more interested in debating philosophy than actually making a difference. So yeah, I'm no Jedi."

Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, Beltran continued. "So for a two-person operation we actually have a few advantages. First, we can move faster than they can, and do so quietly. Second, they don't know that we're coming, so we can take the time to prepare some distractions." Beltran nodded toward a small black duffle-bag filled with plastic explosive that sat against a nearby wall. "I say we set a series of delayed charges on one side of the facility. Then when they go off, and the security personnel we move in from the other side. It's a simple strategy, but effective. Eventually they'll realize what's happened, but hopefully by then we'll be inside and able to trigger some kind of lockdown of their security protocols. Might mean we have to slice through a few blastdoors, but I suspect our sabers can do that easier than any equipment they're carrying. Thoughts?"

Palm-Imer · Aug 15, 2020

The Ambassador listened carefully as he explained. The Silver Jedi Concord was one of the many entities that strove for peace in a galaxy that very rarely was willing to offer something other than war. She could not blame them, for in many ways she had to recognize she was a hopeful one herself. Their cause was just, at least from the outside and judging from what she knew. Palm would forever be a bit of a skeptic, for her neutral standing allowed her to be objective and that meant seeing the dirt in the shiny and the redeemable in the bad. Even when she didn't really want to for one reason or the other.

Her only cause were her people, and even if she turned a blind eye to this reality, at some point she'd always have to admit that there was nothing she wouldn't do for them. With some luck, life would allow her to serve them as righteously as possible, but wishful thinking only bred broken hopes and getting her hands dirty was sometimes the lesser evil. She had a feeling Beltran understood this sentiment too.

Palm broke away from this train of thought soon enough, chuckling at his next words as a smirk settled on her lips. "Not gonna argue with that," She did admire the Jedi in many ways, and she had always found those who were more intellectually inclined fascinating, but this did not mean she shared in their preferences. Smart words could take you a long way, but smart words and an ignited lightsaber could take you even further. For better or worse, this was the one truth proved time and again throughout history. "People at my Order would certainly like you, they are the hands-on type." She had always found this quite strange, for while practicing restraint in the Force the soll'nav had always been ready to give up the friendly demeanor at the drop of a hat. Most of them were duelists, after all, they spoke better with actions.

Even if he wasn't that skilled in the Force yet, Palm still felt comfortable and more than glad to pair up with him. One look at Beltran was enough to know he had his fair share of experience, probably a lot more than she did. Palm had talent and hours of practice to account for a refined skillset, but time and experience were always the better teacher and she was still too young to pride herself in having those. Her attention was once more set on him as he proposed a plan. A slight, meditative frown settled over her brow as she considered his words carefully. A moment of silence afterwards she nodded, "That sounds good." It was solid and simple, that was important given they definitely lacked the numbers.

"Now, this is based off of knowledge of other facilities and it might be wrong, but I think we'd be better off timing the explosives...we might need two distractions to get out of there." As she spoke she picked up the datapad she had shown him earlier and quickly tapped on it until a hologram of a non-descript building was projected. Although no distinctions or any identifiable names were displayed, it was the outline for one of the older laboratories belonging to TabulaInc. Tabula was over the top when it came to security, but the basics were shared by most labs. "Research facilities in urban locations usually have several underground levels, because of biological safety protocols." And to keep things away from prying eyes. "The lockdown systems in labs tend to work by sectors, to quickly quarantine any one area of the building when an accident happens. Detonations and fire are usually default triggers, so I don't think we'll have to worry about that." That said, she proceeded to explain further.

"First set goes off, we enter the building from the other side. Lockdown system would close the blastdoors on the sectors closest to the explosion. So security personnel will be cut off, which wins us time but once they realize what's happening, their only option will be to round the building and come in the same way we did to get to us." She raised her hand, her index finger surrounding the holographic blueprint to exemplify her words. "That would mean we are trapped. But if we time it correctly and a second explosion goes off on the same side we used to enter, the lockdown system will keep them away again. By then the blastdoors on the side of the first explosion should start to open again," anti-fire systems were quite a formidable thing in facilities like these. "And if they don't, lightsabers will do it." So they went in one way, they came out the other. Her light brown eyes met his, waiting to see if he approved of the plan or not. If he did, she was more than ready to get going.

Beltran Rarr

Beltran Rarr · Aug 15, 2020

Beltran had been somewhat surprised when he heard

Palm-Imer chuckle. Most of those he interacted with tended to look less than fondly on his outspoken criticism of the Jedi. For too many, they were these near-mythical almost demi-gods and to question their judgement almost seemed akin to blasphemy. But Beltran had seen Jedi make mistakes. He'd lost men because Jedi made mistakes. He'd even been shot once because Jedi made mistakes. It wasn't that Beltran hated Jedi, he didn't.

The Silver Order had done a lot of good, and they remained what he believed to be the strongest opposition to the Sith. "Perhaps," He said, half-joking and half seriously. "A trip to visit your Order might be in order once we're finished here." The idea of being able to learn about the Force without having to constrain himself to the narrow view that the Jedi took was quite appealing to him, and any organization that could turn out a woman as obviously bright as Palm was one he wanted to check out.

Beltran fell quiet and listened as Palm spoke, nodding along as she detailed her thoughts for the operation. He found himself impressed with her forethought and the fact that many of her ideas were ones that he had been planning on suggesting if she hadn't. "I agree," He said after she finished talking. "You're right, we're making a few assumptions about the programming of the security system, but as you've pointed out-lightsabers give us a lot of versatility. So I think we should begin by setting up charges on the far side of the building. Then once we enter, we'll set the second set of charges since we'll need to be inside if we're to have any hope of putting them in a place where they'll do the most damage to the responding force."

It added another task for them to complete as they executed their infiltration of the facility, but setting up timed charges wasn't hard. All the programming of the detonators could be done before they left, so all that they would have to do was place the charges as they went.

The preparation tasks for the operation would go on to be made for several hours. Beltran would suggest waiting until just before planetary dawn to strike. It was an impossibly old tactic, but one that remained effective. Those on the night watch would be tired, looking forward to going off shift, and those on the day watch would likely still be trying to squeeze in a few extra minutes of sleep before starting their day. Ideally, this would make any response to their incursion just that much slower and disorganized.

Also, if they were really lucky, they might even catch one of the scientists on their way down to the lower levels. A captured ID card would make their lives infinitely easier.

And so it was that Beltran and Palm found themselves deep in Adaarack City's industrial park, looking at a building that appeared to be an old warehouse-but one that was surrounded by electrified fencing and being patrolled by guards carrying assault weapons. To Palm, Beltran said. "I'm happy to go plant the charges if you want to make your way to the other side of the building and get ready."

Palm-Imer · Aug 16, 2020

Palm spent the many hours of the night helping prepare when she could, and silently measuring her thoughts and state when not through active meditation when she could not. Of course, she knew her way around explosives but it was always better to leave it in the hands of the one who was more familiarized and for these ones in particular that person was Beltran. Soon enough it was time for them to make their move, and Palm swiftly doubled checked her equipment, tightening all fastenings and slowly allowing most emotions to become numb. A geminaie's ability to tamper with their own behavior and feeling was a dangerous thing to be used carefully, but in cases like this one, when a sharp and unclouded mind was needed, it granted them an edge only those with an incredible amount of experience could possess.

Adaarack city was currently dispossessed of the buzzing atmosphere that its inhabitants provided during the active hours when people went about their business in this dark and polluted planet. Dirt, rust, darkness and not a soul in the streets, if she hadn't been here the previous night or lacked the connection to the Force that allowed her to feel the life around her, Palm would have sworn they were in the remains of some abandoned city that had managed to hold up against the inclemency of time and nature fairly well.

It didn't take them very long to reach the compound, and her honey-colored eyes quickly went to the task of thoroughly examining the outline of the building once more. Doing so made her confident that her assessment of the facility would be correct, even the guards seemed to move in a pattern that was familiar to her. She could feel her resolve steeling itself, growing stronger and colder by the minute. If the crew was alive, she was getting them out of there. Or at least, she'd do her damn best to achieve that. Sometimes people had to be left behind, that was the harsh reality in this line of profession. Palm was ready to accept this, but not until all other options had run out.

Her gaze set on Beltran again when she was addressed, "See you on the other side then, ar'selek" She nodded, her last words forming in Nexilis, her mother tongue. Be safe. The man would not understand the meaning of the words themselves, but he seemed to be incredibly perceptive so it wouldn't be difficult for him to deduce it was an expression meant to wish luck. She parted ways with him then, silently and quickly moving through side streets and alleys completely unnoticed. Stealth was something she had always prided herself on, she often worked alone and it had been her saving grace in more than one occasion.

Eventually she found the place she had been looking for. She swiftly climbed up a relatively short building using a pipeline than run up its side. Now with a better view, she stationed herself there and waited. The place she had chosen seemed the most likely to be the blindspot of the surveillance cameras that she had managed to spot. Safest place to approach the building when it was time. Keeping her focus on the warehouse, she would reach out to Beltran through the Force so that it would be easy for him to spot her once they were all set up. Show-time was closing in on them, and the geminaie could feel her body begin to tense up in preparation. When Beltran found her, she lost no time in pointing towards a small blast door in the warehouse, painted the same color as the rest of the walls and a lot more inconspicuous than the main gates, it was barely visible. "Side door. Cutting through there will be quicker than the wall or the exit gate."

Beltran Rarr

Beltran Rarr · Aug 16, 2020

Before parting with her, Beltran had nodded-understanding through context that she meant him well. He had moved quickly and efficiently through the quiet pre-dawn streets. As he'd expected, the foot patrols that the guards were taking were beginning to lag a little as the shift neared it's end. They were starting a few minutes later, and the guards were walking far too quickly to really be able to take stock of their surroundings. He took the time to get an approximate start and end time for the patrol cycle.

It was getting close to sunrise when the next patrol passed by his hiding spot. Down a man. Beltran noticed. There were a number of possible explanations. Perhaps the last patrol was always a man light, as the remaining guard had some kind of paperwork to finish. That seemed foolish to him, but he'd seen dumber things make their way into standard operating procedure. Also it was possible that the last guard had gone off shift early, perhaps due to illness. That seemed a little less likely, since none of the guards he'd seen on the previous patrols had appeared to be sick.

In either case, Beltran was running out of time. The charges needed to be placed and he couldn't afford to wait. Stepping out from an alleyway, he jogged easily across the street toward the building. He'd chosen this particular intersection because it appeared to be a blind area where the building's security cameras couldn't see anything. He approached the electrified fence and set to work isolating the section he intended to cut and grounding it. He then made quick work of cutting through it, using his lightsaber.

Once he was done, he took the bag of charges and tossed it through the manhole sized hole and was about to step through when he became aware of movement behind him.

"Hey guys! I found i-what the hel-"

Pulling the Force to him, Beltran used the mystical energy to increase his already impressive reflexes. In a blur of motion, he reached down into his boot and pulled the vibroblade he kept there. Even as the being was still figuring out what was happening, Beltran threw the blade-which proceeded to embed itself in the man's throat. Within a second, maybe two at most, the guard was lying on the ground gurgling quietly as he suffocated on his blood.

Beltran stepped through the hole and took off at a dead sprint toward the side of the building. He was now on a timer, he knew. The guard's comrades were obviously expecting him to catch up, which meant that they would likely double back this way when he didn't. So with lightning fast efficiency, he placed the charges and withdrew.

As he approached the other side of the building, Beltran had no trouble finding the rooftop where

Palm-Imer had hidden herself. After climbing up the same way she had, he crouched down beside her and wiped off the blood from the knife that he'd retrieved on his way out and putting it back in his boot holster.

"I ran into some trouble," He told her simply. "We'll need to move now."

He nodded in agreement at Palm's choice of entry vector and with hand signals, signaled that they should start. He would take the lead, trusting Palm to cover him as they approached the fence. Using the same technique he'd used on the other side, Beltran got them through the fence and over to the side door. "You have more saber experience," He told her. "You cut through and I'll cover you."

Almost as if on cue the charges on the other side of the facility blew with a resounding boom!

Looking up, Beltran could see smoke billowing into the sky and he could make out the muffled sounds of an alarm blaring inside. Hefting the blaster carbine he'd slung across his back, he would watch over Palm as she worked to gain them entry.

Palm-Imer · Aug 16, 2020

The amber eyes of the geminaie fell on the bloodied knife, then proceeded to quickly look over the man to make sure he had sustained no injuries. If he had made it back to her, nothing severe must have happened but it was still a habit she had. Palm nodded once at his words, not asking any more questions and choosing to trust his judgement. First blood had been drawn, and things tended to progress quickly after that happened. Now it wasn't only the soon-to-emerge sun that was pressing them for time. Now the mission had began for real.

The hours spent in preparation and in observation of the Ranger had served her well, for now Palm managed to respond swiftly and efficiently to his signals and follow his movement without hesitation. Teamwork was the strongest suit of her people, learning to read and synchronize with others was part of that. She kept an eye out as they moved, hopefully they wouldn't encounter resistance prior to entering. Whoever Beltran had downed was in the other side of the compound, the guards would want to clear that area first before they came looking here. Soon enough they were through the fence.

"On it." She said, keeping her words short and her focus on the task at hand. Palm was nothing if not disciplined and efficient, she was bred and raised for it. The loud bang of the explosion did not move her, she had been expecting it and it getting them through the door was her main concern at the time. She was almost at the door when a small group of three guards rounded the corner of the building, stopping their run as soon as their eyes fell on the two intruders. Surely, they were running towards the explosion and had the bad luck of crossing paths with them. But then and there, Palm did not stop to think what had brought them before them.

Drawing on the Force, the woman's movement suddenly became fast. Enough to reach the first guard before he even got a proper hold of his blaster rifle. Maneuvering around him skillfully, her hands reached his head and gave it a strong, precise turn. Broken neck, swift death. The strength of her species allowed her to focus on her speed, she didn't need the aid of the Force to snap a human neck. She didn't enjoy killing, she could feel the flame of darkness and guilt come to life within her. But she ignored it, muting her sensitivity to it. Killers were everywhere, at least she had a cause and she only preyed on other predators.

Having cleared the way towards the door, Palm resumed her part of the plan while allowing Beltran to take care of the remaining two who had made their advance towards him while the geminaie dealt with their partner. One of her guard shotos was ignited, but the characteristic sound of a lightsaber was never heard. The blade was almost completely translucent, barely visible in this the darker hours of the early dawn. She modified the blade, which soon became thinner and more potent. It was also harder to control, but this close to the door that wouldn't be a problem and she didn't need a surgeon's pulse to make way for them. The blade began cutting through the metal, which opposed some resistance. But not enough.

"Twenty-five seconds." She called, letting Beltran know how long she expected it to take to cut through. Trusting the Ranger to sort through any inconveniences that may surface during that time, shortly after the metal gave way and Palm made it through, analyzing the area and feeling through the Force to find any immediate threats, the guard-shoto still ignited. It was a medium sized hallway that led deeper into the compound, and no one else was in it, for now. She turned her eyes back to the Ranger for a second to confirm he was still in one piece.

If he was, then she would press on, staying on her guard as she advanced through the corridor. The blaring of the alarm was hard to miss now they were inside, and the red, intermittent lights that gave the place an eerie glow were the sign Palm was looking for. "The lockdown system was activated," If they were quick and the Force granted them that luck, they shouldn't meet much resistance until later. Of course, that was no excuse to be overconfident. After all, they didn't know exactly what they were up against...

Beltran Rarr

Beltran Rarr · Aug 18, 2020

Beltran hadn't been deterred from his task of opening the fence as Palm had moved to engage the three unlucky guards. He had to trust her to watch his back, otherwise this operation wasn't going to work. Once they were through and had approached the side door, they switched places. As Palm worked, cutting through the door with her shoto lightsaber, he unslung his carbine and kept the watch.

By now, the muffled sounds of alarms blaring could be heard coming from inside the building. As Palm called out her estimated time to finishing, Beltran's head moved on a steady swivel. His eyes tracked for any movement and his ears worked to pick up subtle noises amid the chaotic backdrop. Fortunately, it seemed that the group of guards who'd stumbled upon them were the only group of their kind on this side of the building and when the door was finally breached, Beltran would follow the woman in without issue.

Upon stepping through the threshold of the building, Beltran raised his carbine to the "high-ready" position and took the lead. Picking a direction, he pushed down a dimly lit hallway. It was obvious from the interior that this was no warehouse. The walls were covered in a sterile looking white tile that reminded Beltran of any number of hospitals that he'd visited. Overhead, red lights flashed indicating the state of emergency.

As they approached a turn in the corridor, Beltran heard voices.

"Team three isn't responding," Said one of them.

"Well then, I guess you'd better get out there and see what's happened to them, shouldn't you?" The second voice had the smug, condescending tone that Beltran had come to associate with scientists and other academics. Raising his fist in an indication that Palm should halt he pressed himself up against the corner and fished out a small mirror from within his jacket. Using it to see around the corner, Beltran made out two armed guards-each in similar dress as the ones that they'd seen previously-and a short human dressed in a waist height lab coat.

He then moved back and spoke quietly to Palm. "Three targets." He said. "Two guards, one scientist. On three I'll round the corner and put the guards down. I need you to secure the scientist. With any luck he'll know where the prisoners are being kept and have the ability to access them."

Beltran would wait just long enough to ensure that Palm understood what he was saying. Then he would raise his weapon again and round the corner, coming face to face with the two guards who had just turned to head in their direction. Four blasts later, one to the chest and to the head of each guard and both of them were on the ground.

The scientist, who had begun to walk in the direction away from them turned at the sudden sound. His already pasty white complexion grew even more pale as he began to half-run, half-stumble down the hall away from them.

Palm-Imer · Aug 18, 2020

Once again, she advanced behind him. Her reversed grip on the ignited guard-shoto made the blade remain close to her own arm. To many, that closeness would look daunting but she was used to it and the heat from the lightsaber was almost comforting to its wielder. The fact that the blade was silent and almost translucent, with no remarkable amount of glow emanating from it, allowed Palm to keep her weapon at the ready without compromising stealth. Lightsabers were powerful instruments that rarely met their match, but usually they were not well suited for infiltration and secrecy. Ghostfire crystals amended that shortcoming.

A small ripple in the Force alerted her of an incoming threat, and soon enough voices were heard down the corridor. Beltran was ahead, and therefore she waited for him to make the call. Offering a firm nod for an answer, she readied herself. Whoever these people were, they had kidnapped her own. If she hadn't been able to mute most of her feelings for the time being, there was no doubt that she would feel the ever present pull of the Dark inviting her to give in to anger. It was the curse of all force-sensitives, but years of training had done wonders to her self-control and she stood in a very solid neutrality. With a cold head and a steady hand, things tended to go smoothly. So far, they hadn't crossed paths with an obstacle that led her to believe today would be any different. They were working well together, Palm would pull her weight to ensure they continued to do so.

Beltran rounded the corner and after four masterfully aimed shots, the guards were no longer an issue. That left the scientist, her target. Palm turned off her blade and once again making use of the Force to push her body well past its normal speed limits, she reached the white-coated man and stood before him, cutting him off of his escape route. Not allowing him time to scream or otherwise react, a well placed push to his shoulder to get him off balance and a firm hit of the hilt of her saber to the side of his knee forced him into a position were he was easily subdued. Kneeling, his back to Palm who kept a firm grip on his arms and facing Beltran. The geminaie didn't need to warn him for the scientist to understand that trying anything stupid would immediately cost him his life, he was supposed to be a smart man after all.

With each step they took deeper into the compound a sense of foreboding began to settle within her. The Force was vague like that most of the time, and it stirred some amount of worry enough to breach through her forced coldness. It took effort to hold on to her patience, but she endured. To Palm, her people meant everything. It was without a doubt a massive responsibility to pick up, but she had vowed herself to serve and protect the people of Geminidae, and even if her life as an Ambassador brought pain and loneliness she had embraced it fully. "We know you are holding civilians in this facility. You will tell us where and provide the means to get there." Her words were plain and her voice blank and serious. She was not making a suggestion, and that much was clear.

The man didn't have much courage to hold on to apparently, for it only took him a second to allow his shaky voice to surface. It no longer held that arrogant tone, and he even went as far as trying to speak as quietly as his fear allowed him to."A-area 47...Subjects are held in Area 47," The word subjects made a cold feeling shoot down Palm's spine. Her amber eyes met Beltran's, she didn't think the scientist was lying but maybe the Ranger thought differently. In any case, Palm quickly fished for the identification card that was clipped to the chest pocket of the scientist's lab coat. It was chipped, meaning it opened doors. Yet they still needed to discover if it opened the right ones.

"Do you have clearance to access Area 47?" Her grip on the man's arms tightened, a little incentive for a swifter response.

Beltran Rarr

Beltran Rarr · Aug 20, 2020

The scientist struggled a little against Palm's grip, but it was only a half-hearted attempt to get away. "Y-you can't go down there..." He replied, his voice moving from a startled tone to one that Beltran recognized as deep-seated genuine fear.

Without responding verbally, Beltran let his carbine fall until the barrel was aimed at one of the scientist's knees and pulled the trigger. A pair of bolts slammed right into the man's leg, all but cutting through the knee joint and amputating the lower part of his leg. The scientist's mouth opened, but the sheer overwhelming surge of pain took the power out of his scream.

"Answer the question. Do you have access to the area, or not?" Beltran said simply, his tone as easy as it had been when they'd been comparing notes at the bar earlier. "Otherwise, you've got another leg, two arms and finally a head for me to blast off."

Unable to actually articulate any words, the scientist-now pale from the trauma he'd been subjected to and probably in the early stages of shock-reached into his lab coat and produced a keycard which he held out to Palm with shaking fingers. "Access...code...6-7-3-1-2 and swipe." He managed before passing out and slumping to the floor.

Beltran sighed a little as he looked down at the man and leveled his blaster at the man's head. Another pair of blasts ensured that he would never again rise to conduct experiments on anyone. To Palm, Beltran spoke. "Let's head down that corridor, the way he was trying to run. Sounds like area 47 is beneath us, so we'll need to find an elevator."

Beltran would motion for the woman to lead the way and he would cover her from behind as they moved deeper into the facility.

Palm-Imer · Aug 21, 2020

Palm remained still when Beltran pointed his carbine at the scientist and pulled the trigger She kept her eyes on the Ranger, appearing unmoved by the action. As all who walked the path of soldiers and agents since an early age, she had learnt to desensitize herself to the risks of battle. Even if she didn't enjoy causing pain, she would not object to it when it was a swift answer to an urgent problem. Could she feel guilt? Yes, she never detached herself enough from her morals to blur her definitions of good and bad completely...but guilt was not the same thing as regret. Palm would never regret doing anything if her purpose was to protect others. The fact that this scientist was amoral scum also added to her lack of empathy towards him.

The grip of the geminaie on the man was enough to keep him in place even when he lacked one leg to correctly support his own weight. She kept her silence, allowing the pain of the wound and the fear inspired by Beltran's threat to work their magic. 67312. Making sure to remember the code, she pushed the man aside as soon as his conscience slipped away and his body became a wounded sack. The keycard was safely stored in one of her pockets as the killing shot was delivered to the scientist.

Palm adjusted her grip on her lightsaber and turned to lead the way through the rest of the corridor. "So far so good, but we are running on borrowed time." She commented, they had no way of knowing for sure how long it would take the facility's personnel to control the aftermath of the explosion. If the lockdown system deactivated before they were ready to move out, the situation would get rough.

Palm felt no one near them, but was still cautious when finally reaching the corner. The hallways were empty, and up ahead to the right was the elevator. She had expected it would take them longer to find it. Lucky, too lucky for comfort. Palm felt a minuscule rippling through the Force that settled within her as a bad feeling. But even if it made her suspicious, they had to press on. As soon as they reached the elevator, the doors slid open and Palm walked in. Once Beltran had done the same, she proceeded to inspect the floor call pad. There were six underground levels. Luckily for them, each was labeled with the areas they housed. Lowest level, area forty-seven. Not surprising.

When she tapped on it, the pad demanded the code be entered and after, the keycard. Soon enough the doors closed and they began their descent. Her amber eyes settled on the Ranger once more, a slight frown taking over her features as the nagging feeling increased. The further down they went the stronger it got, until finally she had to say something. "Beltran, do you feel that?" She asked, maybe the disturbance had been vague enough to go unnoticed before if he wasn't too proficient in force sensing, but now it was so intense it almost felt tangible to her.

As if on cue, the elevator suddenly trembled and a high-pitched whirring noise cut through the silence, as though the thing were struggling to fit within the walls or forcefully trying to stop itself. Palm winced, not covering her ears with her hands only because her instincts were telling her it was wiser to keep them near her weapons. The lights began to flicker and when the elevator finally came to a halt, the familiar sound of a power down was heard and they were left in utter darkness. Then silence, too much silence.

The door did not open, and although they could not know for sure, it was safe to assume that the explosion had probably affected some generator and the lower level was cut off from its power supply. No electricity. Palm took a breath, the warning feeling of unease inspired by the Force settling like a tight knot deep within her chest. But there was nothing. She could feel no beings on the other side and the lack of sound seemed to confirm this. She was about to inspect the walls to find the manual lock and force the doors open when a guttural, sickening sound coming from the other side made her take a sudden step back.

A chill ran down her spine, her skin crawling in response.

Whatever the feth that was, it was way too near the elevator door... and she could barely feel it through the Force.

Beltran Rarr

Beltran Rarr · Aug 23, 2020

"Beltran, do you feel that?"

Suppressing a shudder, Beltran nodded. The utter sense of wrongness that permeated his mind was so powerful that the Lorrdian had to struggle for a moment to find his words. "Yes.." He all but hissed in response. He'd thought he known the Dark Side whenever he'd touched his Sith-made Krath sword. But the ice cold fury that gripped him when he touched that blade was nothing compared to the intensity of unnaturalness that he felt here. That fury served to focus him, while this threatened to unravel him.

Closing his eyes, he thought back to the lesson he'd once had on centering himself in the Force. He pulled a good memory, one of only a meager few that the Lorrdian could recall, from deep inside his mind and focused on it. He took a deep breath in, and for an instant he was somewhere else. Somewhere warm and safe.

His eyes remained closed as the elevator screeched to a halt, and the lights flickered out and the room was filled with silence. He held his breath, drawing the sense of warmth and safety to himself and creating a kind of mental shield with it. He could hear Palm breathing and found that he could sense her uneasiness.

Slowly he let his breath out, allowing the memory to fade from his mind but maintaining the imaginary wall of safety that it had helped him create. As the sounds rang from the other side of the elevator door, Beltran opened his eyes. In the Force, he would project a strength and certainty that might seem odd for one as inexperienced as he was.

But this was far from his first hell.

And it would not be his last.

Drawing the hilt of his father's saber from his belt, he activated the blade. It filled the dark elevator with a sunset orange light. He then approached the elevator door, stepping past Palm as she jumped back and stuck the point of his blade right into the metal. Sparks flew as the blade pierced the door and there was a sudden screech from beyond. Slowly, he would begin to cut, moving outward and then cutting a large circle.

"Be ready," He told Palm.

And a few minutes later, the metal piece of door fell onto the ground beyond the shaft with a loud clang! The area beyond the door was dark, only illuminated by a brief flash of red emergency lighting. The guttural sounds were far more clearer now and appeared to be approaching rapidly.

Without hesitation, Beltran stepped through the hole and into the darkness beyond.

Palm-Imer · Aug 24, 2020

Her hand went to the hilt of her second guard-shoto, which had remained unused so far. Both were ignited as Beltran began to cut through the elevator's door, their glow barely visible in comparison to the orange brightness of the Ranger's lightsaber. Taking air in, she cleared her mind of any disturbances and allowed the familiar flow of the force to ground her in a place where there was no room for doubt and fear. She could feel Beltran's presence and the determination he emanated, it added to her own. Palm drew on the power of the Force to replace the physical sight that the darkness impeded.

The layout of the area before them became clear to her, as did Beltran's shape. Whatever these creatures were, however, they managed to be perceived only as vague and inconsistent presences, she was not even sure of their shape or size. Force sight would not be the great aid it usually was, but it was still better than nothing. As the cut piece of metal fell, clanking loudly against the ground and luring these strange enemies towards them, Palm steeled her mind. There was no going back to a safe place now, and when faced with battle there could be no hesitation.

The grip Palm usually kept on her connection the Force to hide it vanished, and her presence shone like a beacon to those who could feel it as it coursed through her to strengthen her. She usually would have waited to see if drawing upon her enhancement skills was truly necessary, but right now they were at a disadvantage. They knew nothing of these creatures, and on top of it it seemed as though they had a way to hide even from the Force. Palm positioned herself to the right side of Beltran, making sure to put some space between them. Close enough to assist or be assisted if needed, but with enough distance so that a mistake or ambush would not take both of them down.

The shrieks and gurgles grew louder before they stopped, and Palm's breath caught in her throat as she tried to keep track of or even identify the incoming attackers. She couldn't. A second later a pang painful awareness shot through her as the Force warned - her almost too late - of a lethal danger. Palm's right hand went up, the blade of the guard-shoto aligned with her forearm slashing against a body that had pounced towards her and gotten into her personal space without being heard. Her off foot slid into a wider stance to allow her to keep her balance as the creature screeched in pain at the burn of the blade, it had come at her with enough power to almost knock her down, and it would have if her precognition had not kicked in at the last second.

Everything happened so fast Palm could barely get a look at the creature before it disappeared once more into the darkness, away from the too-faint glow of her saber. Her breath grew slightly agitated as adrenaline coursed through her body, and her shoulder complained at the force she had just needed to employ to block the creature's attack. The geminaie had no idea if the wound she had inflicted had been grave or merely a graze. This was not good, they were fighting practically blind and having had a minor taste of their opponent's stealth, speed and power, she was sure they wouldn't last long like this.

What the hell happened to the emergency lights?

Even their dark red, intermittent glow would be enough to give the two of them a fighting chance. She focused on her surroundings and reached through the force until she could locate what she was looking for. Manual switch. They needed to get to it, even if there was no knowing what stood between them and the switch. Unless the Ranger was carrying flashlights or flares, it was their only shot.

She reached through the Force and into Beltran's mind, in any other scenario she would have refrained from using telepathy but there was no time to ask for permission. "We need light. There's a corridor up ahead, the emergency switch is in the left wall, at the end." They couldn't lower their guard, another one of these things could appear at any given second, and they would only grow more confident in their attacks if they had the needed intellect to realize the two were vulnerable.

Beltran Rarr

Beltran Rarr · Aug 26, 2020

Beltran kept watch as Palm climbed through the hole, joining him in the corridor beyond. A single emergency light flickered at the end of the long, utilitarian hallway providing only the barest of light. Shadows danced and moved, darting between junctions and corners. Beltran tried to get a feeling for whether they were dealing with one creature or several, but he couldn't tell.

From behind him, he could feel Palm's presence intensify in the Force. It was as if she was releasing a hold on her true power and now she shone brilliantly. It was actually a little distracting to him, having been so unused to sensing others. Raising his lit blade, he tried to use the orange light in an attempt to see beyond the shadows, but to no avail. The blackness didn't behave like normal darkness. It was almost inky, cloying and clinging-almost struggling against the light.

At the edge of his perception, Beltran sensed movement coming from their left. Approaching rapidly. He could almost feel its hunger and rage. It was as if it was repeating the same two words over and over again to itself as it came to them.

Kill. Eat. Kill. Eat. Kill. Eat. Kill...

Struggling to focus his green eyes on the source of the movement, Beltran was about to raise his blade when suddenly a voice sounded in his mind. "We need light. There's a corridor up ahead, the e-" He blinked, startled by the mental communication Palm had used and lowered his guard just as the shadowy creature leapt onto him.

With a loud gurgly shriek the creature, vaguely humanoid looking and dressed in tattered clothes, straddled the bewildered Lorrdian as he fell on his back. Looking up, Beltran caught a flash of a face that could have once been human, or a species similar. It's skin was a pale gray and it's eyes were sunken and red-as if all the blood vessels in the being's eyes had ruptured. Its lips, swollen and broken and slick with what looked like blood parted to reveal a set of fangs that reminded Beltran of a Rancor.

It moved faster than he could anticipate, pinning him with something resembling hands and holding him in place with a strength that surprised him. Its jaw opened, and almost seemed to unhinge as it went for a giant bite at his face. Beltran struggled, but his concentration had been shattered by the violence of the moment and without the aid of the Force, he knew he had no hope of matching the creature's power. Closing his eyes, he sent a simple message with his mind out into the abyss, not sure if Palm would hear it or not.

Help.

Palm-Imer · Aug 27, 2020

Location: CrimaCorp's Headquarters Underground Levels, Adaarack City, Irith.
Wearing: XxX.
Armament: The Wraith Blades ~ Blasters (x2)
Tagging:

Beltran Rarr

Concentrate.

How many?

Where?

Her mind was running at a speed it had never reached before, heart beating too fast within her chest as she tried to grasp on to a single train of thought. She was not blinded by the darkness thanks to the Force, and yet she couldn't see their enemies. Whatever flicker of a presence she could pick up did nothing but add to the confusion, as though they were trying to disorient her purposefully. By now, she was trying to keep all of her focus in the task of sensing for it seemed like it was the only chance of defense she could aspire to.

Yet the soon the situation took a grim turn, one that would have her trying to fight the tidal wave of calculations and thoughts and fears that seemed to have been forcefully released and made to run wildly around her mind. Where these creatures influencing her? Could it be that they had the power to distort her thinking and make her vulnerable? She could feel control start to slowly slip away from her, and all she could do was stand there and wait for another imminent attack. Until she heard the screeching of another of the creatures and Beltran's lightsaber moving. Too fast, again, and then a single word flooded her mind.

Help.

The Ranger's voice through the Force overtook the current disarray of her thoughts, even if she still did not know if they were caused by their monstrous enemies or a personal fault. She held on to the lucidity and sharpness that the new objective had armed her mind with, and didn't let a second go to waste before moving in to aid Beltran.

She could not sense or see the creature, but she could outline the Ranger's shape on the floor and struggling. This and the noises coming from it allowed her enough spatial awareness to pinpoint where the offending party was located: on top of him. She moved, gripping one of her guard shotos to keep it on the defense while the remaining one aimed for the creature. Its reflexes were fast, and just before it sustained what could have been a lethal hit, it removed its self from Beltran to confront the geminaie, slashing with one of its hands at her.

Palm felt claws, or what she supposed were claws, connect with her upper arm. She was not armored, and the layers of her clothing could not provide much protection. She hissed and groaned as she felt the familiar stinging hit of deep cuts burst into life filling her arm with pain, purple blood beginning to flow and dampen the surrounding fabric. Weakness soon followed, her hand trembling slightly as it held on the lightsaber. But she could not allow her concentration to be broken. Not with Beltran on the ground.

She drew on the power of the Force to try and ease the pain and stop the bleeding, but she was no healer...She could only hope to be strong enough to confront the creatures with a wounded arm. The creature had dodged her blow, but it had been enough to scare the creature away, momentarily. Its retreat could have been a good moment to press on with the offense, but Palm did not know if Beltran was wounded or not and right then keeping the ranger alive was the priority. So the geminaie adopted a defensive stance next to him, praying to the Force to be strong enough to withstand the next attack.

The fact that the creatures were taking turns having a go at them suggested that they were being examined, studied. It looked like they had enough wit to test out their enemies before charging in. And if they decided that they could and came at them at the same time, area 47 would most likely become their tomb. Had she been able to use telekinesis, she would have pulled the manual switch to give them light, but as a soll'nav she had never dabbled in such skills. Now she wished she had.

They needed to find a way, any way, to see. That alone could turn the tide of this battle. Before it was too late.

Private Yeah! Science bi**ch! (Beltran Rarr and Palm-Imer)

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