Location: Dark Zone- From Railway to Transport Ship
It wasn’t so much that Srina innately knew the way through the Dark Zone because of some overpowering intellect or additional information others hadn’t been privy to. No, not even close. These streets were deteriorated shambles of what they had once been. The holo-maps that she had gone over a dozen times didn’t really help when nothing looked like it should. What the pale Echani knew, more than anything, was what the Vicelord felt like on the other side of their Force Bond. She could not follow the now obsolete information she had been provided, but, even blind—she would be able to find Darth Metus. She didn’t move instinctively toward an exit. She moved toward him.
“Not at all, Ms. Yumi.”, Srina responded to the dark-haired woman, not realizing, that her statement about ‘Midnight Exigent’ was likely rhetorical. It was the final solution. The disease had proven formidable. The whole of Melida/Daan would be at risk if they did nothing. Losing one city was better than losing them all. Better than losing an entire planet.
She remained near to Kurenai Yumi for practical and personal reasons. One, because the seemingly young Trinitas Obsidian had told her to, two, because she had seen Kurenai fight before, and three, because she could recognize a warrior spirit. The brunette Scherezade deWinter had come a long way from her days of rampant Vicelord stabbing, but a growing maturity and penchant for violence, did not automatically equate to skill. Srina had met Nine Lives briefly, however, she had yet to meet the ginger-haired bot previously. As much as she wished things were different there wasn’t the time to be anything but practical. This was a warzone. Not, a social hour.
The slender woman seemed a little dazed after using the Force to blow back the infected. As much as she tried to stand tall, to ignore what was happening, there was a haziness to her that seemed out of place. Her iron will was all that allowed her to push past her limits, to push through the pain, and keep going. Sheer stubbornness. Were she stronger she would have reached for Noatyr Moldmerr to seal his injury but then she really would have been dead weight.
Nine Lives was in one piece, mostly, and Srina was at least relieved to see that her attack had processed in time. Clearly exhausted, she still continued on, hacking away at any of the creatures that were left. Srina felt concern when she dropped, but realized, it was only to catch her breath. There was something different about Nine Lives and Kurenai Yumi. She couldn’t place it, not exactly, but she could even feel it in the Force. Different. The white-haired woman did not know how to put it to words.
Kurenai mentioned the telekinetic attack she had unleashed and the quiet woman gave pale, cheerless smile from behind her helmet. It might not be seen because of the shadows. “I’m sure you do Ms. Yumi. I can’t take full credit, however.”, she breathed, trying to hide the tiredness in her tone behind a guise of keeping her voice down to avoid drawing anymore of the infected. Not so long ago, the Sith Apprentice hadn’t had the finesse to move a dinner plate without breaking it, but times had changed. Mind-melding with the Vicelord on Tatooine had spoon-fed her training in such a way that it made everything difficult about the Force simplistic. It required the appropriate amount of emotion, logic, and execution.
Her dark-haired guardian asked if she was all right and it took a moment for Srina to respond. Words were getting harder to create and her head felt lighter and lighter. “As much as I can be. It shouldn’t be far—“
Speaking of the research station the aforementioned Scherezade had disappeared. Srina felt her eyebrow twitch. Why did the deWinter child always run off on her own? Her heart was in the right place, usually, but if she wasn’t careful it was likely to become lunch for the infected. Before she could try and search the Force for the youngest of them the presence of Darth Metus came hurtling forward. He was moving fast, blindingly so, with half of the Confederacy in tow it seemed. “Master…”, she greeted, extremely gladden to see him, but at the same time very dismayed.
Srina had warned him not to come here. He was the head of the Confederacy. He was more important than any of them. Why didn’t he listen? Her agitation with his actions immediately softened when he reached for her despite the distance created by their enviro-suits. His words echoed in her ears and her head tucked down a little as another wave of exhaustion swept through her. The pain medication was taking its toll. “You cannot protect me always.”
‘Thank you for trying.’
Then, he asked about @Riggs. Her stomach sank. If what she felt did not echo the truth to the Vicelord—the brave words from Noatyr Moldmerr would. He was sweet. In her opinion, with a flair akin to Scherezade, but, both had their hearts in the right place. She remained silent for a long moment as the news sunk in and she reached for his arm, taking hold of it to steady him, despite the armor he would likely tack on. No matter what happened, no matter who died, they could not afford to linger or the sacrifice would mean nothing. If they didn’t get the data back to the Fortressa…All of this was for naught. “He speaks true. Riggs…He did not completely turn. He still had the presence of mind to make the choice and we could not deny a dying man trying to stand tall. It was honorable.”
Poor, sad, pitiful words.
The medical team flooded them and began to quickly triage the wounded. They could only do quick patch jobs because of the short timetable but it would be enough to stabilize anyone until they could be treated in proper bacta-tanks. Everyone would have been escorted out of the railway sooner than later so that the exfil could be completed. The data pads that Scherezade deWinter had collected would likely be turned over to the scientists on the Fortressa that knew the access codes.
Srina remained close to Darth Metus, both waiting on the ramp of the starship for everyone to board, as well as waiting for other stragglers such as Karlie Lynn Destat. They couldn't leave anyone behind. She shouldn’t be far, and, they had cleared a path. Her lips pressed thin. There wasn’t much time left. The sounds of multiple running feet caught her attention and her eyes turned in the appropriate direction. Life and death. “Six o’clock, Obsidian.”, she spoke to one of the Knights that had come down with Darth Metus. He pulled out his blaster and aimed appropriately. Her hand pressed to her side, her teeth ground together when she realized that the flaxen-haired woman had a pet zombie with her. “What are you doing with that? Shoot it in the head and get on the ship. We need to leave. Now.”
Why would she take one of the infected? The whole idea was to keep it contained. Not, to bring the virus off world.