Chains of the Hive

[The Hive Warden]

In the primary landing bay of the shattered moon of Valko, surrounded by a legion of Jailers, the creature known as Yol'ShoValko'Warden waited in silence.

It was a hulking creature, over two meters tall and armored like a main battle tank. The many bright yellow eyes set into its broad, roughly triangular cranium stared beyond the hangar force field, willing the ship it anticipated to appear. Yet despite its anticipation, it remained perfectly still. There was no wasted movement, no nervous fidgeting, only implacable rigidity. All around it, the creature could feel Jailers at work. These lesser examples of the Umphathi species were coordinated telepathically through the mind of Yol'ShoValko'Warden, creating a collective in which all individuals were at all times unconsciously aware of one another's positions and actions.

This coordination was important to their species as a whole, but it was especially important here on Valko, for it ensured that all prisoners were constantly watched not just by one set of insect eyes, but by many. If a single Jailer became aware of unusual behavior, Yol'ShoValko'Warden became aware of it, and then every Jailer became aware of it. It was part of what made the shattered moon so impossible to escape. The other reasons were nearly as formidable - cells set deep into the crust of the moon, incapacitating gas waiting to be used on would-be escapees, cortosis-reinforced doors and sheer rock walls at the lowest levels, and the casual brutality of the Jailers.

If the Umphathi were cruel to their prisoners, it was because the galaxy had been cruel to them. Few outsiders, if any, paused and looked past the stereotypes of Yol'ShoValko'Warden's people - slavers, bounty hunters, pirates. They did not consider that a rain of radioactive meteors had turned their once-lush world barren, that only the agricultural labor provided by the prisoners on Valko's lower-security levels could feed the Umphathi and keep them from extinction. But in truth, Yol'ShoValko'Warden did not care to correct them. Idealists might yell loudest, but realists ran the galaxy, and realists were always willing to pay to dispose of inconvenient prisoners.

And so long as they believed in Valko's reputation as brutal, inescapable, and cost-effective, they would continue to pay, providing the Umphathi with a lifeline.

That was why Yol'ShoValko'Warden stood here now, awaiting the man called Fyl Terrano and his accomplice. Umphathia now lay within First Order space, and some of the best business for the prison of Valko came from that authoritarian power. Terrano was a rebel and a terrorist from the stubborn world of Barkhesh, a planet where the First Order had adopted a "no martyrs" policy as part of discouraging any further revolts. But the man had already escaped a planetary hard labor camp - a more secure solution was needed. And so when he had been captured attempting to flee the region, the government hunting him had authorized his transfer into Umphathi custody.

Yol'ShoValko'Warden now awaited Koda Fett, the bounty hunter who had captured Terrano, to pay him First Order credits for the bounty's safe delivery...

[member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Tanaski Yumi"]​

 

[Fyl Terrano]

Slumped in a cage aboard the Concord Spear, waves of agony still radiating from his leg, Fyl Terrano reflected that he really missed his hat.

Every other problem that he had was so big, so unmanageable, that the only option he could see to avoid breaking down was to focus on the small issues, things he could at least pretend to be able to fix. Buying a new hat wouldn't do - that one had been given to him the day he'd signed up with the Twelfth Freedom Battalion, the day he'd qualified to join Ranger Squad Esh, and it was pretty much all he had to remember them by. There was an embedded identification tag in it, in case some First Order trooper had slagged him beyond recognition on the battlefield. If he could just get back to that nowhere planet where the Mandalorian and his cyborg friend had captured him, he'd scour the world for it.

Looking down at the blaster burn in his leg, he let out a hissing wince. Fyl had seen plenty of injuries like it during the Insurrection; he'd been hit a few times himself, as evidenced by the eyepatch and his collection of other scars. This one was going quite a while without treatment, though, and that would slow recovery down a lot - if indeed he ever fully recovered. He might well walk with a limp if the tendons or hip joint had been damaged beyond repair, or at least whatever kind of repair he was likely to have access to at whatever prison he was being offloaded at. Somehow he doubted it would be back to Camp 19-Cresh. The First Order wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Glancing through the bars of his cage, Fyl looked over at Tanasuki, the androgynous teenage assassin who'd tried to help him back in that worthless cantina - and paid the price. The kid was an accomplice now, guilty of aiding and abetting a fugitive against a licensed bounty hunter, and the First Order would imprison him too; they had to make the point that no one could stand in the way of their justice. Still, the assassin didn't seem too worried about the whole thing. Fyl wondered if Tanasuki knew something that he didn't. Either way, the ex-rebel knew that he needed to focus on his own problems. Over and over the galaxy reminded him that people who stuck their necks out for others suffered for it.

A jolt rattled his cage as the Concord Spear dropped out of hyperspace, and Fyl ran through his mental calculations. It'd been a long jump, certainly overshooting Barkhesh by a considerable margin, but not long enough to reach Dosuun - and why would they take him there anyway, to give a man they'd already deemed guilty another show trial? With a sinking feeling in his heart, he realized the more likely destination. Rumors had circled among the ranks of the Twelfth of the place the First Order put you if you were too much trouble, an out-of-sight, out-of-mind oubliette in a system that was rarely even included on maps: the dreaded Shattered Moon of Valko, sometimes called The Hive.

No one, the stories went, had ever escaped the Hive - unless being blown out an airlock counted - and Fyl was in no condition to be the first. "We're karked," he muttered.

 

[Lemon]

Umpathia Sector​

Concord Spear​

Koda Fett​

​

The flash of stretched whiteness faded, warping back to reality quite literally. As the Concord Spear exited hyperspace Fett still lurched forwards, no matter how many times he'd done it and gotten used to it - it provided the same outcome regardless. He'd reached his destination in the Umpathia Sector within First Order territory, a desolate planet that appeared to be dwindling with life. Oddly enough those sent here found their own lives dwindling. It was an awful thing to send people to such a terrible place, but to Fett? Just another job.

The Concord Spear in it's deadly beauty descended into the planet's atmosphere, and to navigate through the thick smog that filled the air he was forced to glance to a screen that provided his imaging, a red haze that allowed him to safely navigate his way through. "Coming in now." He'd said, seemingly bored. Those words weren't to reassure himself though, simply to let his Cyborg Companion know he should be ready to move out.

The whir of his starship echoed around in that helmet of his. He kept entirely concentrated on what was ahead of him, flying through the treacherous terrain of Umpathia until he came across a complex. It was the place alright, and that's where Fett landed. His Firespray went from it's 'standing' position to a 'laying' one, landing on it's engines. With one final press of a button before he left the cockpit, the ramp was lowered. The same armored figure who piloted the ship was then inside area which contained the bounties. "Get'em out, we've got a deal to make." He ordered Ras with Carbine in hand.

Fett was ready to be done with this bounty. Terrano and the child, he cared not for their name but the credits they'd bring him. In the end, it's all he cared for these days. Though the ties this may bring him is more than worth the hassle he went through to get this done.

[member=Fyl Terrano] | [member=Tanaski Yumi] | [member=Ras'Kel'Kanto]

 

[Ras'Kel'Kanto]

Somewhere in First Order space.
Concord Spear.​

Ras'Kel'Kanto.​

​

Wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.

Ras had spent the majority of the trip on guard detail, casually leaning against the bulkhead opposite of the cells. Flashing HUD markers report that the hold was chilly, Koda keeping the section at an even 18 degrees-cee. Ras wasn't cold however, having forgotten the sensation shortly after his fifth augmentation. He remembered the situation however; how Ras was forced, cold and wounded, into a cell. Ras remembered how the cold seeped into his mind, sapped at his will to resist to fight back. While he no longer feels the cold, Kanto nonetheless pitied Terrano and his cross dressing compatriot.

When he wasn't committing his full attention on the captives, Ras was tending to his other duties on the Spear. Ammo needed to be counted, weapons had to be logged, and the books needed to be balanced.

Sounds like we're slowing down.

The interior of the Spear shook as the Firespray realigned the cargo hold for landing, prompting Ras to stand up straight and secure his weapon Kanto hefts his light-repeater off a rack, and inspects it with the professional grace of a trained soldier. The cyborg nodded once at Koda, the first time they communicated since leaving the planet, and stepped over towards the cages. "Alright. On your feet." Ras gestures upward with the barrel of his weapon, remaining a good four feet away from the captives.

The cyborg disables the security fields shortly after, the electrical 'hums' vanishing with a soft click and hard clatter. "Terrano" Ras calls out, tossing the rebel a pair of stun-cuffs with an underhand. "Cuff your buddy, then head down the ramp." Again he gestures with the front of his barrel, first towards Yumi then towards the exit ramp.


[member="Fyl Terrano"] l [member=[SIZE=14px]"Tasanaki Yumi"][/SIZE]

 

[Tanaski Yumi]

The cage was cold, the whole room was cold, but that was not the problem, getting caught and being sent to some First Order prison was. The young assassin had never been caught by the authorities before, and as such had no proper criminal record, despite being part of several crime syndicates. Though he had a sneaking suspicious that the place he was being sent wouldn't care about that. Being force sensitive didn't help either, so why was he being so clam, simply sitting in the middle of his cage, in a traditional seiza style.

To be frank the reason for his calmness was the fact he had worked for the First Order in the past, in hunting down Jedi and Galactic Alliance spy inciting rebellion. Even working directly with the followers of Ren, most notably Kyrel Ren, the Galaxies Darth Vader 2.0, and master of Mustafar.

Despite this though the initial welcoming might not be to nice, and it would undoubtedly take time to pardoned for said crimes, though he did not do anything illegal. Sure Fyl had touched the mando but Tanasuki only engaged combat with the Thugs present, who were far game. Still things did not bode well for him, and out of the two he was more worried about Mr Cow boy. "I hope you only mean figuratively, I'm sure there would be quite a few prisoners that would be 'happy' about my presence".

The familiar feel of the ships dropping out of hyperspace caused him to jerk slightly, before listening to the intercom, judging by how long the trip was, they were far into First Order space. Tanasuki sat on the ground as [member="Ras'Kel'Kanto"] lowered the force field ordering [member="Fyl Terrano"] to cuff him, "Oh my, I didn't know you were into that sort of thing". It was a dirty quip, but anything to keep the mood lightened. Soon both fugitives were escorted out of the room at gun point, coming to the back of the ship were [member="Koda Fett"] was standing "I best watch my SIX while here, I have a feeling things could get ugly".

[member="The Hive Warden"]

 

[Fyl Terrano]

The Concord Spear set down in the hangar bay, and Fyl felt as if an iron collar had closed around his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and steadied himself. He'd been in bad places before, and always made it out. He just wasn't quite sure he'd ever been in one quite this bad. Valko had been a campfire story to him throughout the Insurrection, standing in for a curse in the mouths of no small number of his fellow rebels. It was said that violent offenders like him were basically tossed in a rocky pit and then watched from above by the bug eyes of the Jailers, the insectoid species that ran the infamous rock. No one would ever know you were there. No one could come to save you.

And no one, in the history of the prison's long dealings with the governments of the galaxy, had ever managed to escape.

When he opened his eyes, Fyl found the cyborg standing over him. He tried to obey and get to his feet, but his wounded leg buckled under him, and he collapsed with a hiss of pain. If they really, literally did toss people into this tormented chasm of theirs, he was going to land hard at the bottom. Grabbing the bars of the cage, the ex-rebel levered himself up and got his weight centered - he would limp like hell, but he could walk, and that would keep him from getting shot for now. Turning around, he cuffed Tanasuki as instructed. The teenage assassin was still joking, making dirty quips out of every order and comment. Fyl wished he could muster the kid's carefree attitude, but he couldn't even fake it.

The bounty hunter and his hulking partner marched them down the ramp, and Fyl got his first good look at the hangar bay. It was stark and efficient, dark metal against dark rock. It was clearly meant to be utilitarian, without a decoration in sight, and defensible - guns, armor, and shield generators pointed in both directions, aimed to prevent rescues and escapes. Standing all around the room, in eerie stillness, were two-meter tall insectoids carrying heavy-duty stun weapons. Initially Fyl tried to count them, but he quickly lost track. There was no telling how many of them inhabited the shattered moon. These could only be the Jailers, and he could believe the rumors of their casual brutality.

In front of him was a much stockier specimen, huge and armored but apparently unarmed. It was, to his eyes, incredibly hideous; he could go his entire life quite happily without even thinking about what it looked like when it was eating. But a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that this was the warden they were going to be handed over to, and he was going to be seeing a lot more of this species than he was comfortable with. He looked away, taking in the dimensions of the hangar, looking for other ships, trying to memorize the position and orientation of every door leading out of the cavernous room. You usually only got one chance, if that, and he didn't aim to blow his.

 

[The Hive Warden]

Yol'ShoValko'Warden inclined its triangular head as the bounty hunters approached with their prisoners. Business was good.

"Greetings," it chitter-hissed, its voice eerie and echoing, half in physical space and half in the mind. "You have brought the meat. We have brought the payment." It did not mean the statement as an indication that it aimed to eat the prisoners, though it did not mind if they took it that way and were intimidated. In fact, most of the Umphathi diet was plant matter. But the beings before it were not, in its eyes, people. They were a commodity, an item on the galactic market whose wants were irrelevant. Only their value mattered, and so long as some faraway government kept paying to keep them incarcerated without hope of escape, the meat continued to reap profits.

With one spindly limb, Yol'ShoValko'Warden held out a credit stick toward the Mandalorian. It would have been simple enough to make the transfer into his accounts, but many in their line of work preferred to see hard evidence that they had been paid, and some governments did not like to have a direct record of a transaction with someone like a bounty hunter. "70,000 credits for the Terrano-meat, and 30,000 credits in hazard pay for the additional capture. The assassin-meat is not a paid bounty, and the First Order will release it with this warning." Yol'ShoValko'Warden lifted another limb, containing a commlink and a pre-recorded transmission.

The voice was garbled, encoded to ensure that it could not be directly traced to whoever had spoken. "Tanasuki Yumi," the voice said, its voice low and dangerous; the symbol of the First Order spun lazily above the communicator. "In light of your service to the Order of Ren, we will overlook your crime... this time. Do not aid enemies of the First Order again if you wish to remain in our good graces. This man is a terrorist and an agitator, undeserving of your sympathy or support. You have cost us credits and time. In the future, we will not be so forgiving." The message blinked out, leaving the watchers staring once more at each other. The bargain was offered.

"The price is agreeable, meat-catcher?" Yol'ShoValko'Warden watched the others carefully. Negotiations could be dangerous.

[member="Tanaski Yumi"] | [member="Ras'Kel'Kanto"] | [member="Koda Fett"]​

 

[Lemon]

Koda Fett​

Location: First Order Prison - Umpathia​

​

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​

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​

Fett paced down the ramp of the Concord Spear, his EE-3 being held tightly whilst being lazily pointed towards the back of the now bound Terrano and Yumi. The sounds of his metal boots on the metal ramp clanged about, the only real thing that could be heard besides the pivoting turrets and the dwindling hum of his ship. As he did this he could fell the dread wash over Fyl. Fyl knew he was never going to get out of here, and so did Fett, for the time-being he assumed Tanaski would suffer the same fate. It was odd thing to be amused by but it brought him satisfaction.

He didn't bother saying anything in replonse to the Warden that greeted him, simply waiting for his payment. Although he gave a slow nod that would allow the Hive Warden to know he understood the circumstances of his payment. Nobody was aware but Fett maintained a disgusted scowl beneath his helmet, this species was always something that made him think twice when looking at it - they were indeed ugly that much is certain. So when the credit stick was extended out and offered to him, he didn't hesitate the grab at it. Meanwhile, he slung his Carbine over his shoulder before reaching around and pulling a small Datapad from one of the many pouches. He forced the two to meet in the middle, placing the stick inside the device as he then awaited the transfer of assets.

The Bounty Hunter stared down at the screen, holding it before his visor with his left hand as his right held onto the strap pressed against his shoulder. He didn't seem to take any interest in the pre-recorded message, he was paid and that's all that mattered. He looked on as Yumi was escorted away, and by that he turned his head for a single second. He turned to walk away, taking a step forward before pausing and half-assedly glancing over his shoulder. "We're done here." He said before continuing his stride.

The Concord Spear was waiting for it's pilot, it sat there with it's ramp open, and they came. Moving up the ramp and into the ship, passing where he previously held his prisoners and towards the cock pit itself. He sat inside the chair, pressing, flicking, sliding and twisting on the control panel. The vessel hummed to life, then moving back into it's flight position and moving off into the stars to which it would vanish.

---------

Or, if he wasn't paid. Those credits never transferred for whatever reason, he'd stand there. Slowly shifting his gaze from the device and onto the Yol'ShoValko'Warden. Doing nothing but staring expectantly as if he was waiting for a response.

[member="The Hive Warden"] [member="Fyl Terrano"] [member="Tanaski Yumi"] [member=Ras'Kel'Kanto]

 

[Tanaski Yumi]

Tana kept a calm face as him and Fyl were escorted off the ship and into the waiting limbs of the garuds, the look of their species was kind of off putting, "The word meat can have several different meanings, just ask a Hutt slave girl". Tanasuki didn't hold anything against them, being an energy vampire meant being shunned by certain people, he could only imagine how the species were treated by outsiders.

He was slightly surprised by how quickly the pardon came through, though he had a slight feeling representative Asheda Tyr had something to do with it. "The supreme leader is such a nice guy, guess I should I look into the past of who I help next time, still, missing out on the chance to be ravaged in a prison, forced to live out their perverted fantasies for the convicts inside, ahhhh better luck next time". He kept still as one of the guards came along and un-cuffed him, proceeding to return his equipment

"Sorry fyl, your on your own from here on out, perhaps we will meet again.... if so I'd be happy to repay you in any way you see fit". He gave the cow boy a flirty wink before strutting off being led by one of the guards to a landing pad to await pick up. He felt a slight pang of regret for leaving the guy, but that was how the galaxy worked, though not partially fond of the first order it was always nice to have connections.

[member="Asheda Tyr"] l [member="Koda Fett"] l [member="Fyl Terrano"]

 

[Asheda Tyr]

Her private shuttle came out of hyper space over the prison planet, the Troguta looking over the world though the cockpit window as the ship approached, hand behind her back as the pilot kept the craft steady. "Where being coming close to the prison mistress Tyr, patching you through to them", "Thank you Gregory, This is representative Tyr of the First Order, I have arrived to retrieve Mr Yumi". After receiving conformation she shuttle descended on the landing pad, the ram being flanked by guards as the she descended from the said ram, her black dress flowing in the wind.

"You caused quite a stir Tana, your lucky Kyrel and me like you, be more careful in the future, what would your mother say if she saw you running around starting fights with random people", she shook her head and gave a sarcastic sight. "Any ways I'm here to take you to the First Order border, from their you free to go, just stay out of trouble okay". She allowed the assassin to past onto the ship, ignoring any smart ass quips he made, and saying fare well to the garuds present. It was a good thing her position had such authority allowing for this, most likely other Ren would have given Tana a long lecture at best.

Soon the shuttle took off from its landing pad, hopefully not returning any time soon.

[member="Tanaski Yumi"] l [member="Koda Fett"] l [member="Fyl Terrano"]

 

[The Hive Warden]

The payment was transferred, and the bounty hunter departed in peace - Yol'ShoValko'Warden knew better than to cheat a Mandalorian, especially one that might bring it good business in the future. The accomplice departed in the First Order shuttle, no longer of any concern to the keepers of Valko. And with that, the meat was alone in its cage. A small legion of Jailers started forward, roughly grabbing the Terrano-thing under his arms and hauling him bodily toward the doors deeper into the facility. They passed through the spartan labyrinth of corridors making up the defensive levels of the prison, twists and turns that only a mind that could see through a thousand eyes could fully comprehend.

Yol'ShoValko'Warden did not have to follow; it knew, instantly and intimately, the whereabouts of each of the four jailers wrangling the new meat. Such as transfer had happened hundreds of thousands of times, and was largely beneath the creature's notice; it was focused on other administrative matters, negotiations and payments for countless other prisoners. But some part of its awareness could linger on the treatment of the fresh arrival without too much effort. When the procession reached the security turbolifts, they hustled the human inside with little effort - due to his injured leg, he couldn't have put up much of a fight even if there had been any point to doing so.

The turbolifts had no internal buttons - that way prisoners could not use them. Instead, Jailers at the turbolift controls in locked, reinforced security rooms on the upper levels could operate the elevators whenever they sensed that others of their kind needed to ascend or descend. It was just one more feature that made the prison utterly inescapable. Down the metal carriage went, descending past the minimum security levels where nonviolent offenders and political prisoners toiled in the agricultural domes, working to feed the Umphathi people. The Terrano-meat was not fit for such a place. He was a killer and an outlaw, a bringer of chaos and disorder. The pit cells of the middle sublevel would contain him.

Yet Yol'ShoValko'Warden sensed that something was awry. One of the Jailers, a hangar bay technician, had made a discovery that required its urgent attention. Stretching out with its full awareness, the creature invaded its subordinate's senses, examining what it had found. The readings on the console were faint, but unmistakable - there had been a signal transmitting from within the shattered moon, broadcasting somewhere into the depths of space. It was gone now, and Yol'ShoValko'Warden had its suspicions as to what it must have been - a tracking device on the bounty hunter's ship. What that meant, it did not yet know. But perhaps the business with the Terrano-meat was not quite concluded.

It ordered a review of security procedures. Nothing had ever been permitted to get out of control on its watch. It did not intend to allow that fact to change.

[member="Nathan Sandusky"] | [member="Koda Fett"]​

 

[Fyl Terrano]

"Yeah, so long, Tana," Fyl said, offering what he hoped was a brave smile. "Hope your week gets better from here." He watched in silence as first the bounty hunters and then the First Order shuttle departed, feeling his heart sink a little lower with each ship that flew away without him. Finally he was alone with the bugs, his last chance flown through that energy field and out into the depths of space. He hardly had time to even catch his breath from sighing as the Jailers surged forward, grabbing him roughly and half-marching, half-dragging him down the corridors. His leg burned like fire every time his weight came crashing down on it, making his teeth clench and his vision swim.

It was hopeless to try and keep track of all the twists and turns along the way to the turbolift, but Fyl gave it his best shot anyway, trying to think through the pain and remember as many landmarks as he could. The fact that everything looked the same wasn't helping; these bugs didn't seem to care much for decoration. Soon he was in the turbolift, feeling his chances sink lower with every meter they descended. They passed a large viewport overlooking a huge cavern - inside, hundreds of prisoners in matching gray and orange jumpsuits bent over trays of what looked like moss. Fyl guessed that it was some kind of food product, a way of utilizing prison labor for productive purposes.

Apparently they didn't trust him to participate, though. The viewport ended as they went lower, and by the time they stopped they were deep in the bowels of the shattered moon. The Jailers shoved him out into the hallway beyond, and Fyl got his first glimpse of the pit. It was an almost-sheer drop down to the floor of the vast cavern, hundreds of meters below. Cells were built into the sides of the chasm and into the floor, forcing the jumpsuited prisoners to climb whenever they were allowed out of their cells. Fyl could imagine that a terrible fate awaited those who couldn't get back to their cages under their own power, and looked down at his wounded leg with fear building in his heart.

The process of searching - including the searching of several internal places Fyl had never been desperate enough to hide anything - and decontamination were unpleasant and dehumanizing enough. It was made amply clear, in case it had not been already, that he was not considered a sentient so much as a piece of livestock. The prison jumpsuit he was issued was scuffed and dirty, and didn't fit him very well - the last owner had been broader in the shoulders and thighs, and the fabric bunched up oddly when he moved. If he ever got to wear normal clothes again after this scratchy monkey-lizard suit, even the cheapest of them would feel like shimmersilk.

And then they marched him back to the edge of the abyss. "Climb," one of the Jailers ordered emotionlessly. Fyl swallowed hard. It was a long way down.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Fyl Terrano"]

While the debacle of the alien prison raged on a single YT-1300 jumped into system. Behind the wheel a caffed out Captain and a Rogue Mon Calamari cruised her into orbit hard, breaking flames across the hull. The premonition with the tracking freq she had received from Nathan was nothing short of miraculous. She owed him a debt or two and the debt was about to be levelled.

"We're coming in on our quarry!"

Worsh her Mon Cal Co-Pilot nodded and then grinned his fishy lips.

"So uh... are you going to do the thing?"

"Yeah yeah dude. Chill your gills bro. Hold the yoke."

Worsh took over the controls as the craft plummeted. She breathed deep, sinking into the force, and then moving her mind into another dimension. The next few breaths brought her ever closer to nothingness until she was neither above or below nor in the narrow band called the force.

She was in something else. A powerful band of energy that ran in the void.

The White Current.

As she focused her vision and tuned into the chaos her hands pulled the air down, ripping reality assunder and cloaking their junk box to look as if they were another bug ship approaching. A powerful field of energy wrapped tight to their hulls. she could feel everything. The hive mind was strong here. Her Quarries desperation to escape even stronger.

Worsh knew better than to break her focus. He gunned the throttle.

And they burned in.

 

[The Hive Warden]

The purpose and origin of the signal still perturbed Yol'ShoValko'Warden, distracting it considerably as it pondered the problem.

As such, the creature did not pay close attention when another ship arrived in the system - there were plenty of Jailers to monitor its approach, and it seemed to be of Umphathi design, the only sort of ship that might for any reason make an unscheduled visit to Valko. The warden would learn its purpose soon enough, once the crew grew close enough to reunite their awareness with the shattered moon's collective. Instead it focused on checking security throughout the prison, its mind wandering across the senses of hundreds of Jailers on each of the various levels. So far as it could tell, nothing had been stolen or disturbed, and no prisoner was out of place. It had been right about the bounty hunter's ship, then.

Perhaps this was business that did not concern it. The ship itself might well be the target, or might transmit its location to some employer at all times. There was no direct indication that the signal was any threat to the prison, or even related to it at all. After all, although the Umphathia System appeared only on detailed maps of the region, its existence was hardly unknown - finding it with a tracking beacon was unnecessary. And when the Terrano-meat had been led in, Yol'ShoValko'Warden had sensed the merchandise's despair. It had been genuine sorrow and desperation, not the emotions of a being that expected to be rescued. All of it seemed unlikely to lead to any kind of security breach.

But as the new ship in the system began to draw closer, Yol'ShoVako'Warden noticed something peculiar that reignited its suspicions. Although the ship appeared to be Umphathi in design, and although the two - only two? - life signs aboard seemed to be Umphathi as well, the prison keeper could not look through their eyes. Their awareness was closed to him, like a dull stone left in the midst of the warm, writhing life that was the collective. The creature inclined its head in thought. What did this portend? It would not tip its hand. The ship was granted permission to land, and Yol'ShoValko'Warden made its way down to the hangar bay to meet it, flanked by three dozen Jailers. The truth would be discovered.

 

[Fyl Terrano]

It wasn't like he had a choice, really. He would have to begin his downward climb at some point, or they would simply throw him over the edge.

But Fyl found his frustration and desperation boiling over, driving him to the breaking point. He'd lost the war, had to lose or leave everything he'd ever cared about in order to preserve some semblance of a life, and now it was all being ripped away again. Was there really any point in submitting? Was spending the rest of his life in that sheer rock cell any better than being dead? After everything he'd sacrificed to make it this far, was he really going to let these bugs take it all away again? Something inside him snapped, so loudly and completely that he was surprised the guards couldn't hear it. Standing at the edge, looking down into the darkness, he felt the abyss blink first.

"The meat begins to climb," the Jailer reiterated, its flat voice taking on a hint of impatience. Fyl stood stock still, giving no indication that he had heard. After a moment of tense silence, neither side budging, the insectoid stalked forward with a clicking of mandibles that might have passed for a snarl. "It climbs, or..." Whatever else it was about to say was lost as Fyl twisted on the spot, dodging past the creature and putting his weight against its lower back. The Jailer's momentum betrayed it, and with a terrified chitter it plummeted over the edge, appendages writing helplessly in the open air. Pushing off with his unwounded leg, Fyl threw himself at the next one, crashing into it fist-first.

His brawl-hardened knuckles cracked the carapace of its surprised 'face', and his weight drove it to the ground. They landed in a tangle of limbs, and Fyl's world went white for a moment as he crashed down on his wounded leg. He didn't hear himself scream, but his throat was hoarse when the world rushed back. That might have been the end, if he'd been the man he was before the war. But as a soldier he had learned to fight through pain, to push past his physical limits in order to survive. He grabbed the stunned guard's head with both hands, smashing it against the rocky floor once, twice, three times with all his might, until it cracked like a kukuia nut and greenish ichor spilled out onto the ground.

Immediately Fyl twisted, rolling the Jailer's body onto its side in time to block several volleys of stun fire. The dead creature jerked and twisted as electrical impulses zapped its fading nervous system, sending its limbs twisting around in all directions. Fyl fumbled for its weapon, an old-style deck sweeper stun blaster. The ex-rebel knew the guns well; they were still popular with security forces, and had been used by the Barkheshi police to break up riots. They were like stun scatterguns, pushing out immobilizing energy over a large cone in front of them. Grabbing the stunner in both hands, he fired blind over the top of his corpse shield. If he was karked, he intended to go down fighting.

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"]​

 

[RC 212]

[member="The Hive Warden"] [member="Fyl Terrano"]

Loadout1:

• Dragoon Heatbeam
• S-3 Mangler Sonic pistol
• G-35 Assault Rifle-2x Attachments

• Under-barrel tensor cannon
• K-40 Under-barrel grenade launcher
  6x- >>>Brimstome round
• 3x-Tangler Grenade:

• G-35 Shooting: Fireball Ammo
• Gypsy Spacer Outfit
• Scanner Droids
• Rebel Corusca Signet Ring
• Mad Explosives:: Proton Charges w/Adhesive Strips
• Lightsaber (Hidden)

As Worsh lowered their vessel she got a dread full feeling that came over her. The place was crawling with bugs and something probed for her mind, seeking entry. As soon as they touched down Worsh blurted out.

"Holy hell! Bugs!"

"Ugh." She replied. It was no use now. Whatever cover her illusion had given them was fleeting at best. They were soon to be discovered and her focus was waning. She could feel the White Current expelling her and growled, releasing the illusion all together. The actual vision shattered, like glass hit by a rock and they were left with the sight of a battered old crop duster space ship.

"Well guess we might as well gear up. Nathan said it was a human, that's all I got from him."

"You trust him?" Worsh asked, slamming a power pack into his repeater as she slung on her jacket and several weapons to her body.

"Yeah. He's a Warden. We walk a higher path."

"Fair enough. Shall I ring the doorbell or do we knock?"

"I think the sight of ugly bugs made me lose my manners dude. Let's do it."

She nodded. Worsh dropped the ramp and in the true fashion of fools they charged out onto the landing pad, screaming at the top of their lungs. Her finger jammed the trigger of her G-35 Assault rifle, sending a smattering of rounds into the bugs. She went left spewing slugs into their bodies, splattering blood.

Worsh went right, laying down a heavy rain of blazing laser beams.

"Fire in the hole!"​

Then she switched her firing hand to her under barrel grenade launcher, launching a Brimstone grenade that detonated in an epic arc of fragments, fire and white hot flesh melting turradium.

If they weren't exposed before, they definitely were now.

"Save one of the bugs! We need to interrogate it!"

 

[The Hive Warden]

All at once, Yol'ShoValko'Warden felt a wave of violence roll over it. A dozen Jailers had died in a few brutal seconds, torn apart in a hail of grenades and blasterfire, and their death screams reverberated through the collective in a way that nearly drove the hive keeper to its segmented knees. In an instant, something had changed. The illusion that had surrounded the incoming ship, making it appear to be Umphathi, had dropped away, revealing a battered old vessel of human design. Internally, Yol'ShoValko'Warden snarled, half in anger and half in triumph. Whatever the foolish meat planned to do, they had jumped into the jaws of the beast. It would not be so easy to jump out again.

"Activate tractor beam," the creature commanded, and the heavy-duty projectors built into the sides of the hangar flared to life, pinning the intruding ship in place. There would be no escape unless they could be disabled. "Internal defenses online. Assuming direct control." Yol'ShoValko'Warden reached out with its awareness, invading the senses of the hangar gunners. The heavy blast doors leading deeper into the prison slammed closed, and out of dozens of hidden hardpoints in the walls, stun blasters emerged, laying down withering cones of bright blue fire that tracked the intruders. The hive keeper planned to take these interlopers alive; the meat had delivered itself.

The momentary distraction provided by the shock of dying Jailers had allowed the attackers to advance, perhaps getting into cover, but that was over now. The moment one Jailer had become aware of the attack, Yol'ShoValko'Warden had become aware of it, and in that instant the entire prison was alerted. Only the necessity of controlling the other prisoners prevented every Jailer on Valko from converging on the hangar bay with overwhelming force, but the hive keeper was confident that such overkill would be unnecessary. Between the automated defenses already opening up on the pair of outsiders and the Jailer squads waiting just beyond the blast doors, there was plenty of force to take them down.

Many levels below, its awareness found a further problem: the Terrano-meat was resisting. Futile, but irritating. It directed more Jailers in his direction.

 

[Fyl Terrano]

Levering himself up with one hand planted on the body of the broken Jailer, Fyl laid down a constant stream of stun blasts, the weapon firing arc after arc of blue light. Several more of the insectoid aliens collapsed, writhing as electricity raced up their bodies and immobilized them. But as Fyl looked back over the edge, he could see dozens of the creatures now swarming up the the sides of the chasm - the walls themselves seemed to crawl. Using the gun like a crutch, the ex-rebel frantically hobbled back the way he had come, toward the turbolifts. He had no idea how far down he'd gone into this forsaken place, but he knew for certain that there was only one way back up.

Back in the corridor, he hurried forward as fast as his injured leg would allow - then ducked back behind the first corner he'd been about to turn as a half-dozen stun blasts raced by within centimeters of his face. They were in front of him, too, which meant he was trapped like a womp rat. Somehow, he was starting to think that this had been a bad idea. He tried to poke his head around the corner, to gauge how many Jailers were barring his way, but intense fire immediately forced him back. Behind him, he could hear the rustle of Jailers reaching the mouth of the hallway. Within seconds he would be caught, and probably beaten within an inch of his life if they spared him at all.

Thinking fast, Fyl stripped off one of the soft, near-worthless shoes that came with his prison jumpsuit. Taking a deep breath, he tossed it around the corner, at around head height.. Stun blasts tracked it immediately, smashing into it at driving it back into the wall. At the same instant, Fyl rolled low, coming around the corner well below where the aliens were aiming. He opened up with his deck sweeper, firing indiscriminately at the origin point of the attack on his footwear, and in a few seconds six jailers collapsed twitching to the floor. Forcing himself up with a grunt, a grimace, and several unprintable curses, Fyl limped along the corridor again, dropping his spent gun and picking up a fresh one.

He had reached the turbolift, and hope buoyed his spirits for a moment - despite the fact that he could hear a huge Jailer squad closing in from behind. But that hope died when he saw that the turbolift had no buttons. It must be controlled remotely, and was unlikely to open for an escaping prisoner. Cursing even more violently, Fyl cast around for an alternative. Finally his frantic eyes settled on a grille covering what must be a maintenance shaft. He blasted it on full power, forcing the grating back into the shaft - it dropped into space, falling so long and so far that the ex-rebel never heard it hit bottom. Apparently there were even lower and worse levels to this awful place.

Even from here, it was going to be a long climb. Dropping his gun, Fyl squeezed through the gap, only meters ahead of his pursuers.

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"]​

 

[RC 212]

[member="Fyl Terrano"]

Loadout1:

• Dragoon Heatbeam
• S-3 Mangler Sonic pistol
• G-35 Assault Rifle-2x Attachments

• Under-barrel tensor cannon
• K-40 Under-barrel grenade launcher
  6x- >>>Brimstome round
• 3x-Tangler Grenade:

• G-35 Shooting: Fireball Ammo
• Gypsy Spacer Outfit
• Scanner Droids
• Rebel Corusca Signet Ring
• Mad Explosives:: Proton Charges w/Adhesive Strips
• Lightsaber (Hidden)

"Well this plan just went to hell."

"No kidding! Cover me!"

Worsh propped his repeater on a bug organic crate looking thingy while she ducked and pulled her lightsaber from a hidden pocket. The jet black hilt ingited, showing a pure white blade. It buzzed and thrummed to life as her clumsy skills snapped a few bolts back away from them.

"Get the turrets!"

"Working on it!"

She swung twice behind her, using the force to hit and slash the internal servos of one of the turrets. It parts broken she raised her fist redirected it at the other jailors and squeezed, prompting the trigger mechanism to open fire. Stun bolts mixed with a torrent of fire from the Mon Calamaris repeater flew across the bay, smashing jailors and blasting turrets.

They were still outnumbered her, and Worsh was fast running out of rounds.

"How we gonna get these doors open?"

"I got it, you cover me."

"Bet."

she took his place, and he dropped, priming a proton charge. Those bad boys were designed to rip through starship plating. As he worked she fired, laying down a full magazine of heavy metal slugs that splatters blood and pinged off the deck. The area was full blown hazard now.

"Hurry up!"

"Working!"

Worsh finished priming the charge, slammed it to wall and pressed the button with a fishy grin.

"That's nice."

She glanced back, her eyes going wide and grabbed the Mon Cal by his harness, dragging him off at a dead sprint to take cover behind their vessel before the charge went off.

"Run you dummy!"

 

[The Hive Warden]

The situation was rapidly getting out of control, and Yol'ShoValko'Warden was struggling to prevent any further chaos.

It was hard for the hive keeper to focus when its telepathic connection was being so deeply and constantly assaulted. Dozens of Jailers were dead, both above and below, and they hadn't yet managed to so much as scratch the intruders. And then one of the hangar bay attackers drew a weapon that the creature had seen only a few times before: a lightsaber. Suddenly it all made sense. These intruders had a connection to the mysterious Force - perhaps they were Jedi, who were always shouting about justice and ethics and proper treatment of prisoners, with no conception of how the treatment of Valko's inmates determined the entire future of the Umphathi species.

But Yol'ShoValko'Warden had dealt with Jedi before. The deepest vaults, at the heart of the shattered moon, were cortosis-lined cells that contained Force-users too important to execute but too dangerous to allow to roam free. It seemed that those vaults might gain two new occupants shortly. Now that the capabilities of the meat were known, proper countermeasures could be employed. That was good, because the standard hangar defenses, which had repelled entire bands of pirates, were no match for the two of them. They had destroyed the gun turrets, and - in a vast explosion that killed seven Jailers at once and nearly made the hive keeper black out - blown the security doors.

The rest of the prison would have to be kept secure in the wake of this attack and its many casualties, and a new plan was being devised in any case. So beyond the shattered blast doors, the Jailers pulled back, leaving the corridors open and unsecured. They would protect the cells blocks, ensuring that no riots could begin, and wait for the prison's other defenses to do their work. Vents in the walls began hiss as anesthetic gas sprayed into the hangar and the corridors beyond, each breath producing numbness and bringing the meat closer to unconsciousness. It was the perfect weapon, Yol'ShoValko'Warden had found, against Jedi, and was installed in every cortosis cell.

It could not permit an escape. A single blemish on the prison's record might leave its entire species to starve.