Dominion Dark Harvest: Containment | Mandalorian Enclave Dominion of Christophsis

[Vren Rook]

+COWBOY PAGECLAIM+

Nime | Roon
TAG: Volo Dragr
GEAR: In Bio

HELL'S COMING WITH ME​

It was all hands on deck this time.

There were little to no planets within Enclave space and its surrounding planets that were unaffected by the fast spreading contagion. They were spread thing across the Enclave territory. But when Roon got quarantined, numerous Mando'ade had jumped at the opportunity to rush to its aid.

It was the original home of the Enclave and Mando'ade in general, after all.

It even held Vren's favoured fishing spot.

Nag touched down in the deserted main street of Nime, armaments primed while her cockpit opened to let the Karjr out.
"Bit quiet, ain't it, Girl?" he asked her as he touched down on the ground next to the basilisk.
:: I'm scanning numerous life forms all around. It's not going to be quiet for very long. :: she said.
"Hm." he mused. <Volo, this is Vren. How far out are you, partner? Nag and I are in main street, but I doubt we'll be able to handle the horde on our own once they make a showing.> he said over the comms to his fellow Karjr.

As expected, it didn't take too long for the first infected to show his face from a side-street.
"Yeahp. Here we go." he said as he drew both pistols from their holsters as he waited for more to show themselves. "Don't let them overrun you. Girl. If you gotaa fly, fly." he told Nag, raising the pistols in two different directions.
:: Right :: she said.

The moment another infected made her presence known, golden particle bolts exploded from both pistols, downing both of the people that had been coming for him. It was painful, shooting your own. People you had shared a continent and a planet with for years and who were technically still alive. It didn't sit right with the Karjr. But as to date, there was no other way.

With the shots, the floodgates opened as more infected staggered into the street in droves, making for him and Nag.
Her turret began to whirr as golden bolts shot from the 6 barrels, spraying across a conglomerated group while Vren's pistols caused little explosions as well across a group.

"I want to know what causes Tatooine to have so few infected." he quipped to the empty air.

 

[Braxton Holst]

HEFI | RA’NTISR CAPITOL
TAGS: Runi Kuryida | Vemric Keldra | Romul Saxon | Hester Shedo | Verin Oldo

As the Director sipped at his caf, a curious figure approached him. He studied her as she greeted him and commented on the medical team he brought along with him. She was certainly Mandalorian, though he certainly didn’t know who she was.

”Well, if we’re going to be neighbours, it is simply the right thing to do. After all, we’ve been struggling with this outbreak as well.” He spoke up. ”Excuse me, but I am not acquainted at all.” He stretched his hand out for her to shake. ”Braxton Holst, though you seem to know that already. Who might you be?” He greeted her with a charming smile.

His gaze quickly began to wander as he noticed none other than Hester Shedo among the gathering politicians. Getting her to agree to the company’s terms wasn’t easy. The raise he gave Katia was certainly worth it. But there was still plenty he could get out of the former confederate’s planet.

Another man approached her as he watched, and it soon became clear who he was. They served the same entity not too long ago… now they were in the same boat once again. He was about to go over and greet them when the Warmaster arrived.

Braxton took his mug, gave the Mandalorian woman a casual salute, and moved off to take his seat.

 

[Laura Reese]

KAMINO | MEDICAL LABS
TAGS: @Olaya Astrapi | Fenn Stag | Todblaz Graker

The timid student’s gaze shifted for a moment as Olaya snapped at her. She had a feeling that it would come to this, but she wasn’t going to back down. Not for anyone. People’s lives were on the line. ”I’m simply referring to the evidence we have, doctor. Surely Arkanians can see that?” She immediately regretted her words as her green eyes widened. ”My apologies…” She quickly moved back to a nearby terminal as she listened to the two doctors talk over the various issues.

”The immune system is present, but it doesn’t react to anything. The people are… augmented. Superhuman, for lack of better words. The virus enhanced various aspects of their body to the point where the body doesn’t even acknowledge our tests as threats. They simply don’t work.” She explained to the second doctor as she turned to look at him. ”The, uh… company I’m working with. They did several of their own tests. The virus, it’s extremely aggressive but it’s targeting the brain as a priority. That’s what’s causing the extreme surges of adrenaline and aggression.” She explained to them.

Her gaze shifted to the squirming specimen strapped down in front of them. ”They’re alive… barely. They’re running on instinct at this point. These ones… they’re gone. For all intents and purposes, they’re brain dead.” She looked back to the terminal again.

”If we want to figure out exactly what’s going on in their bodies, we need someone who has recently been infected. As fresh as possible. These ones are simply a security risk at this point.” She continued without looking at either Olaya or Todblaz.

 

[Vemric Keldra]

TAG: Braxton Holst | Runi Kuryida | Hester Shedo | Verin Oldo | Romul Saxon | Open

ODE​

Before they could converse in any way, an interruption came in the form of a Mandalorian.

A brow lofted once more at the man's blunt manner. He had served alongside Romul Saxon countless times in orbital battles. As far as the old Grand Admiral and current Governor was concerned, they were equals in every sense of the word - beskar or not. The man had been courteous enough before. Now was an entirely different matter.

Something about his manner now did not sit right with the Sephi.

As he regally took his seat right accross from the Warmaster, his piercing blue eyes spied a completely unknown man to him. He seemed charming enough as he also took a seat, a businessman by the looks of it. Yet there was something that just felt somewhat off about him that Vemric could not put his finger on, yet he inclined his head slightly in half greeting, half acknowledgement. Or as much as the bored look on his face could allow, at least.

How he longed for the simplicity of the void of space between all these pretenders.

 

[Fenn Stag]

NIGHTMARE

​

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Crushgaunts l Disruptor Pistol l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Combat Stims l Cigar and a lighter l Wrist Mounted Flamethrower l x3 Grenades l Nothing but his boxers.

Tags: Laura Reese l Olaya Astrapí l Todblaz Graker



As if by providence, Fenn was escorted in, laid out on a floating gurney. Mandalorians flanked him on either side, not out of a security concern, but rather a concern for him. Another one pulled behind him, his sacred armor, his birthright. He was a unique specimen in that the infection had set in for the normal allotted time- but his body had thus far resisted it, at a scale not seen with other patients.

Not that Fenn was aware of it. His body was so pumped full of tranquilizer, and his brief moments of consciousness were offset by the lack of lucidity he had over his actions. For the time being, he was conscious as he was wheeled into the medical corridor, and placed into an isolation chamber.

He mulled over the possibility of being essentially created on Kamino, and then also dying there.

Fitting end.


He reached down- then realized, he was not reaching for anything. His limb was still gone, the clean cut patched up on the ride over here. He breathed deeply, feeling the phantom pains in his limbs. He fluttered his eyes, the fever burning his entire body. It felt like he was on fire.

"Is this it?"

He heard his voice on the other side of the thick glass, projected through some sort of microphone set up to hear the patients in the room. He sat up as much as he could on the gurney, looking down where his arm was. They didn't lock him down yet, but he knew that in a moment, they could. His hair fell about his face, and the dark war paint on his eyes obscured the downward cast of his eyes. He felt it, like a creeping vine crawling up his spine. The virus was trying to take over every part of him. But his body was fighting back.

Harder than anyone else had, yet.

He looked beyond the glass, seeing no one.

He didn't want to die alone. He curled his knees to his chest, laying on his side. He just wanted it to either be over, or to not suffer anymore. The pain was unbearable, and his entire body was on fire, his nerve endings firing off rapidly. He felt like a great flame was coursing over him every so often. He closed his eyes, and pictured the farm, and his father.

He wanted to be back there more than anything in the world.

​

 

[Dayn Wren]

"Haran..." It was the first word he had said since they had broken the atmosphere. The response came on a ten second delay. "I know... Just take us down." after another moment she added "We got a job to do"

Dayn had never backed down from a mission before, he wasn't about to start now. This was different though. There was none of that tense anticipation, even fear. He knew how to combat those well enough. Now he felt sick.

Roon wasn't home, but it was home to many of their people. It wasn't a far leap to picture this happening home, to their parents. If it came to that, could they do it? Could they pull the trigger?

"Mara, look there!" Dayn pointed. They were flying low in the Saber. It was just a gunship, but they would squeeze as many survivors in as possible. That was their task. "Not our destination" she replied even as she leaned forward in her seat to examine the scene up ahead. It was a blur at first, but was becoming clearer by the second. A large gather pressed up against one large building, centre of a small town.

"Mara!" Dayn protested. "Look, I know okay! But it's not our-" "Mara!" Dayn interrupted with more force, attempting to stare her down, one T-visor helmet to another. He was already circling and bringing the ship in for a rough landing. "I know we got our orders, but the mission is to save people. That's what we'll do."

"Of course" the way she said it, he felt how she not only agreed but felt bad for having taken an opposing stance. They had to save these people. Dayn put a hand on his sister's shoulder, and she one on his. "Let'em have it" She nodded and got up, moving to the middle of the ship. "I'd rather the Sith invaded." "Me too" he agreed. Putting these people down like this... It felt wrong. But he just didn't see another way. It had to be done.

Dayn fired the ship's twin laser cannon straight at the crowd, while Mara Wren hopped out. She activated the jetpack mid-air, and let her blaster rifle sing in the same direction.

One more pass, and he'd touch down. Then he'd see what had got them all riled up.

 

[Kayl Krayt]

Roon | Capital City
Equipment: In Bio.
Tags: Alora Vizsla | Open For Interaction!

​

The shelling in the distance continued; the faint yet distinct sizzle and crackle of incendiary munitions reached his ears from four blocks away.

At a glance he could see the white, incendiary clouds rising over the rooftops of the more low-rise buildings with ease, despite the distance between him and the horde. As The Misfit sprinted past or vaulted over the burnt wrecks of air speeders in his path on the street as he ran towards his target building, all established remote connections with the pair of probes were lost.

The yelping car alarms hooked up to the drones also ceased along with the loss of connection as well.

He needed to pick up the pace. The less time he was exposed in the street, the better his chances were to remain undetected. Although their blood painted over his armor masked his own scent, he theorized based on the fact that he could mask his scent and pass to be ‘one of them’, he required further data and first hand experience to determine if the infected possessed the intellect to differentiate him from the other infected in a herd with just a glance while masked by their scent.

He wasn’t too keen on finding out the answer, if he was being truthful.

As long as he didn’t make a sound, it was highly unlikely he’d conjure a horde on his location, he thought, just a moment before the distinct discharge of a pair of disruptors rang sharply in a street further down the street, coming behind several structures. <”Oh no,”> he muttered to himself under his breath with mild perturbation.

Was it a survivor making a run for it?

Unsure what to theorize, the kid slowed down his pace and exited his sprint beside a building after crossing the street. With heightened caution now, he pressed on at a much quieter pace now; moving slowly to investigate the source of the gun report, the kid produced a silencer for his carbine from a pouch. Pulling the carbine closer to him, the kid hastily screwed it on the end of its barrel.

A pair of hasty footsteps resounded from the interior of the structure to his immediate left before the young Mandalorian could round the corner. Ears pricked up and the carbine raised forth once more, he came to an abrupt halt. A window shattered loudly from high up around the corner not long after, followed by a meaty splat on the pavement; with a gurgle and a growl, he could hear what he perceived to be an infected groggily stand up to their feet, and take off sprinting towards the further end of the alley, away from him; towards the source of the disruptor shots.

Cautiously peeking his head out the corner, he saw the trail of blood left in the wake of the infected. Another one of them ran out of a by-street, joining the other.

The kid faintly recoiled back as two more disruptor shots split the air; the pair of infected in question were reduced to a pile of ash at the pull of a trigger. An armored silhouette called for The Misfit down the alley afterwards.

"Hello there. Someone call in support?"

The kid momentarily kept his silence as he rounded the corner and approached her. Shouting would only attract more of them here. <”Some assistance I would appreciate, yeah!”> The Misfit answered in response once he came close enough for the as the barrel of the carbine in his hands swept from one building and side street to the other. <”We better get off the streets before more of them show up though, and you just rang the dinner bell for them,”> he suggested with a quip as he turned around facing her, giving a nod of his head at the unsuppressed sidearms of the woman’s choosing.

<”Come on, this way!”> the young Misfit beckoned her to follow him with a gesture of his hand as he ran towards the alley one of the biters had jumped out of, taking the fastest possible route to the apartment complex; the distant growling of the men and women turned into frenzied beasts were drawing nearer from all around them.

It had to be the stragglers that did not quite fall prey to the trap he had created with the probe droids.

The Misfit spoke in between bated, panting breath as he sprinted down the alley. <”There’s a large apartment complex to our front. Picked up clusters of heat signatures dispersed on several floors. Could be survivors!”>

​

 

[Alora Vizsla]

Roon | Capital City

Of course, no one could see the self-satisfied smile plastered on Alora's bright lips within her helmet. And like every other grand entrances of her's it was almost instantly trampled over by Serious Matters. There'd been one time she'd landed atop Shai's walker and someone had the nerve to try killing Alora as she stood there in a pose! Naturally, Alora vaporized their butt in response. At least Kahl didn't try shooting her. Though he said something about ringing the dinner bell? Kind of caused Alora's smile to drop a an eyebrow to drop low over one eye. What was that about?

The disruptors? They weren't that loud. Were they?

Well, the guy thought they were because he made fast down the alleyway without so much as an introduction. At least he acknowledged and accepted her help though, so that was nice. Seeing how the man was in a hurry, this was an outbreak area, and apparently sounds of activity were beginning to grow... Alora double-timed it after Kayl with her disruptors held securely in both hands.

"Huh." Survivors? That was cool, if true. Hey, Gam, I'm approaching an apartment complex with heat signatures. My new friend thinks there are survivors. Keep tabs on us and have rescue on stand-by. Oh, and maybe don't fly too far away. They might need Gambit's guns or a quick exit. "Got a read on how many might be there? And why are you out here on your own? And covered in blood?" Seemed like a bad spot to be alone. This guy wasn't some kind of hardcore survivalist, was he? Ultra Macho type? He hadn't yelled at her or called her names yet, so probably not the Ultra Macho type. Or maybe he was just incredibly disciplined and knew now wasn't the time for screaming? Sounded a bit young for that. Eh, whatever.

"Name's Alora, by the way. Alora Vizsla. Nice to meet you," she announced with cheer rather than fear in her voice. Also a lack of huffing and puffing accompanied the chatter from her side.

Kayl Krayt

 

[Runi Kuryida]

Objective III
Ra'ntisr Capitol Building | Hefi

Runi nodded slowly at the man's remarks. Neighbors was it? Well, the outbreak was a shared concern and the Shaman was grateful to anyone that volunteered medical supplies or personnel to the matter. Better than people becoming isolationists -- that only worked in the very short-term.

"Shaman Runi Kuryida," she replied as she reached out to take the man's hand firmly, but not in a domineering fashion. Perhaps firmer than most would think when they heard 'Shaman,' however. "Speaker for the Mandokarla."

Holst's eyes wandered soon enough, which had Runi quickly take in the subjects of the man's momentarily curiosity; in particular, Hester Shedo . Her attention returned to the Director faster than his to her, which left the Shaman to give the man the smallest of smiles and another slight nod to accept they were parting ways for the time being. Romul Saxon sounded inclined to have matters promptly underway.

Without an ounce of haste, the Shaman turned and drifted through the chamber. Her path took her the longer way around. To pass near the seat where Governor Vemric Keldra sat. Runi leaned down slightly as her gait slowed near the placid man. "Governor." Seemingly at the behest of Romul's urging to begin, the Shaman did not tarry or stop for idle banter. She continued on her way without looking back.

Oh, Runi hated politics. One needn't like something to make use of it, however. Director Braxton Holst had just met her. Perhaps he knew nothing of Shaman Kuryida or the Mandokarla. The man -- and others -- should know enough about those in a Governor's social circle, however. Even the mere appearance of it was enough to open the possibilities for further conversations. Whatever it took to ensure the well-being of the masses.

As she took her own seat as an advisor to those present, Runi's hazel eyes drifted toward another in attendence: Verin Oldo . There were clouds there unlike those that hung over others in attendance to this gathering. It was her role to watch over the spiritual, mental, and emotional health of those in power, so what troubled Oldo troubled the Shaman. Not matters to discuss in public, perhaps. Well, one crisis at a time.

Now to see what the politicians thought of recent events and what aggravated them most today.

 

[Volo Dragr]

OPERATION : LONE WOLF
OBJECTIVE : ORDER
TAGS : Vren Rook | CLOSED
- - - - -

The Karjr Guildmaster watched from his perch as the bes'uliik touched down in the middle of the street. It was hardly an inconspicuous landing zone, but there were few alternatives; almost all of them far worse. If nothing else, the choice of parking spot was just another confirmation that Volo's 'partner' had finally arrived.

<Volo, this is Vren. How far out are you, partner? Nag and I are in main street, but I doubt we'll be able to handle the horde on our own once they make a showing.>​

The comms cut through the silence just a few seconds after Volo adjusted the volume. He doubted the infected would be able to hear his helmet-comms from a hundred feet below... but he went to great lengths to train complacency out of his Karjr. He was about to growl out a snarky response as the first infected rounded the corner.

Then the next.

Then all of them.

Before Volo knew it, golden plasma was pelting the street. There was something instinctively satisfying about such shows of force and power, something that appealed to his most primal and savage instincts. Something that was pushed aside as he leapt from his perch onto the rooftop, sprinting across it. He crossed a few more rooftops, leaping over gaps that would make a long-jumper blush, before he was on the roof overlooking Vren.

Without a second thought, he pounced over the edge; not knowing his target till his foot was through it's chest. Whipping his pistol from its holster, he began the enjoyable process of emptying it's magazine into the crowd of infected. "Beside you, brother." he announced, albeit belated. It seemed his voice had lost its hoarseness since Kamino, and gained a certain stoic tone. "Ready as I am for a final stand, I hope you've a plan to atleast make it worthwhile-"

Stoic and sarcastic, it seemed, but cut off by a stray infected grabbing for him. The stray, who succeeded only in breaking its teeth on Volo's beskar arm, would soon find itself without a head as it became acquainted with the business end of the Guildmaster's pistol.​

​

​

​

 

[Vren Rook]

Nime | Roon
TAG: Volo Dragr
GEAR: In Bio

RISE UP DEAD MAN​

Volo sure liked to make an entrance.

Vren smirked behind his helmet as the Dragr touched down beside him, his announcement completely unnecessary. Aside from that, his brother would have to yell over Nag's whirring turret firing off gigantic golden bots into the crowd.

"Ready as I am for a final stand, I hope you've a plan to atleast make it worthwhile-"
Vren waited until the Guildmaster had dealt with the infected while popped some more infected in the heads with his own pistols.
"I actually do." he answered over the turret noise. "Nag picked some proper organic scans holed up in the hotel o'er yonder." he continued, his pistols not letting up while he motioned with his chin towards a grand building a bit further down the street. "We just got to clean the street a bit first for them to be able to get out."

Nag let out immense growl as she dug in before adding laser fire to her particle fire.
"Damn, Girl. Overkill much?" Vren asked her.
:: You want to clear the street or not? :: she growled back.
"Yeah, fair point." he conceded, hitting another person in the head. "Brother, you up for some flying?" he asked Volo.

He didn't hang around, however. His jetpack roared to life and he took into the air to rain hell from above onto the horde of infected people to remain out of their grasp. It was still a shame that so many people have to die before a solution is reached for all of it.

They only had hope to hold onto that a cure could be found and soon before more entire planets get overrun.

 

[Kayl Krayt]

Roon | Capital City
Equipment: In Bio.
Tags: Alora Vizsla | Open For Interaction!

​

"Got a read on how many might be there? And why are you out here on your own? And covered in blood?"

The swift footfalls of the pair of Mandalorians resounded in the alley as the young Misfit led the way. <”My estimate is between fifteen to twenty in small to large groups as well as loners, dispersed between floors fourteen and sixty-one,”> the kid answered the first of her questions, occasionally shooting a vigilant glance at his surroundings as he ran; it was difficult to find an accurate reading as a handful yet impactful factors were involved, preventing the kid from acquiring a more accurate estimate. Glass and windows, for instance, blocked his thermals completely. Walls thicker than five inches also made it difficult to get accurate readings.

And not to mention the infected also appeared on his thermals. They were not reanimated corpses from some cheap, old horror holo-movie, after all. Although their humanities were lost, taken away by the virus, they were still alive, and emitted heat like any other living, breathing mammal.

A faint smile emerged underneath the kid’s helmet faceplate in response to her second inquiry. <”I’m not alone anymore,”> the kid answered, sort of avoiding answering her question fully. Truth be told, he found it easier to move around the urban environment all by himself, as that meant much, much less noise despite the obvious drawbacks of going alone.

Even then he had that covered, too. If things got too hairy, he had his Basilisk War Droid at the ready to provide him a quick extraction.

<”Camouflage,”> the young Mandalorian answered her third and final question. <”Covering yourself with their blood, they cannot differentiate between turned and unturned; at least not with their sense of smell. It helped me get quite far into this part of the city. Though I am yet to test if they can differentiate me from their own with their visual senses. Do you think they have retained that level of intellect after the final stage of their infection?”> he asked with scientific intrigue in return; her final inquiry had the young lad start thinking of the subject matter once more.

Though he figured he would have the opportunity to find out via first hand experience, and sooner than he would have liked; the ever present shrieks and growling from all sides continued to close in on them with each passing moment.

Sliding to a crouch behind the wreck of a speeder on the street, the kid took a moment to quickly catch his breath while observing the tall apartment complex and the surrounding street before them. He could see several, agitated infected sprinting towards their position. In swift response the Misfit quickly leveled his silenced carbine and braced his blaster over the wreck to stabilize his aim while training the weapon at the closest of the bunch.

"Name's Alora, by the way. Alora Vizsla. Nice to meet you,"

A singular, yellow particle bolt shot out the silencer only a little louder than a whisper at the squeeze of its trigger; finding its mark, the bolt sent the infected he aimed at tumbling down onto the ground face first. To make sure the infected did not stand up again, the Misfit sent another bolt at the biter on the ground before switching targets. <”Kayl,”> the kid returned the kind gesture as he spoke in between each shot he took. <”Kayl Krayt. Pleased to meet you too, Alora,”> he said, though the young man did share the cheerful nature of the Vizsla at the time; on the contrary, he sounded anxious and somewhat agitated as a result of the circumstance he found himself in.

Although somewhat calm and collected while in combat, that did not always extend to simple chatter; he wasn't as easy going as the Vizsla at the time.

If he had a choice, he would have much prefered to meet her in circumstances far less dire than the one he currently found himself in.

<”I don’t see a lot of infected activity by the building entrance of the apartment. I think we can make our entrance from there. What do you think?”>

​

 

[Hester Shedo]

TAG: Braxton Holst Runi Kuryida Verin Oldo Romul Saxon Vemric Keldra


Nothing quite annoyed Hester as being interrupted. The entrance of Romul Saxon was quite the interruption. Nevertheless, it signalled that the motions would be underway. She walked to her seat, an orderly pulling out her seat behind her so that she could sit in a more elegant fashion. The planet she governed might be a backward sandpit, the company she kept less than scrupulous.

But chivalry was not dead yet.


She had courted all sorts of disasters. She thought back to the formation of the Abrion Pact, the Enclave now governing several of its former members. The Pact had come together to deal with the disastrous humanitarian crisis that was unfolding in the region at the hand of the Force.

At least here she had little worry about that.

She had taken the strong initiative and made headway with the other Viceroys. Perhaps here she could do the same. Saxon was far stronger, she feared.

And as for Hex...

She watched Holst as he took his seat. She smiled internally, outwardly taking in the spectacle and the solemn occasion that brought them all together. A crisis needed solving.

 

[Alora Vizsla]

Roon | Capital City

Groups totaling twenty between fourteen to sixty-one? Didn't exactly narrow it down.

"That's right," Alora cheered with a pump of one disruptor in the air, "you got some of the best support this side of the galaxy. Not every day you get a member of The Kandosii squad." What? Humble? No, no, Alora wasn't meek or evasive when it came to who she was. People should know the caliber of other Mandos in their company! Helped with the whole managing expectations and planning side of things, you know.

Oh, but the guy hadn't answered the question. Now wasn't the time for twenty questions. She'd already asked three.

Rather you did not follow his -- albeit strategically effective -- example, thank you very much. I do not want to be washing blood out of every crevice of your armor.

Yeah, Gambit wasn't on-board with the whole 'cover yourself with blood thing' that Kayl used to survive. Alora wasn't squeamish, but if she didn't have to... no need to needlessly aggravate her ship. She'd probably ask Gam to do something outrageous later. She had to save the outrage for when it was best served.

"That's interesting. They identify by scent? Even if the host doesn't normally?" Admittedly, Alora hadn't really tried capturing them for study. Oh, she was quite medically knowledgeable, but just because she knew how to do surgery didn't mean she was the best... uh, virologist in the galaxy? It'd be virology, right? Or should it be a geneticist? General practitioner? Something. "I mean, wouldn't the only visual cue be crazed indifference to their surroundings? Seems like a bad thing to cue off of. What if you came across another infected that was just standing there? Though, viruses aren't very smart to begin with." Technically speaking, viruses were insanely stupid. Like, scarcely better than a rock and just as likely to invent the wheel. Now, when you had a virus take control of a living creature... well, usually they were pretty task oriented with insane tunnel vision. Hopefully they didn't evolve to develop a verbal language. Or figure out Kayl was totally screwing with them.

Alora dropped down behind the speeder when Kayl decided to avoid detection. The violet visor turned in Kayl's direction for a moment. He had said her disruptors were a dinner bell. Now, they were already running in their direction, but Alora figured she'd take the guy's cue if he wanted her to bring the hurt.

Then Kayl decided to make a move with his silenced -- really? -- disruptor carbine. Who silenced a disruptor? Like that was half the point. Scare hostile witnesses into running for their life or surrendering. People often mistook Alora's demeanor as being hopelessly carefree, but when it came to combat she aimed to kill without mercy. You... kind of survived longer that way.

At the man's direction, Alora peeked out over their cover at the surrounding area for a moment. When she ducked back down, she gave Kayl a nod. "If they're lurking in the area, they'll see us approaching the building, but I don't see a horde out there. Doesn't seem much point trying to find the stealthiest way inside. But, before we bust in... how do you plan to gather all the survivors inside? There's only two of us, and forty-seven floors is a lot of ground to cover for twenty people. Think the place as a functioning intercom system?" Because Alora could totally slice it if it did. Civilian security? Could slice that in her sleep.

Kayl Krayt

 

[Volo Dragr]

OPERATION : LONE WOLF
OBJECTIVE : ORDER
ALLIES : Vren Rook | CLOSED
ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE
- - - - -

As bright and blinding as a sun.

That's how he'd describe the bes'uliik's cannonfire decades on, when he was an old and grizzly ba'buir who sat by the fire and told his grandchildren stories of his warrior days. That is, if he ever got off Roon... or had children, for that matter. Turning the muzzle of his pistol towards an over-ambitious infected stumbling too close for comfort, he didn't spare a thought for its humanity, squeezing the trigger and letting the plasma bolt rip through its target.

Turning the pistol back on the unyielding horde, Volo thought of how he'd have to resort to telling the story to Siv's grandchildren instead- Only to be reminded that his Clan-Brother was in a similar bind. For a Clan trying to rebuild, they seemed to be nearly as ill-equipped as possible for it. Snapped back to reality by the sharp click of his trigger on an empty mag, the Guildmaster set about knocking the old magazine out and jamming the new one into its place.

"Nag picked some proper organic scans holed up in the hotel o'er yonder. We just got to clean the street a bit first for them to be able to get out."

He could scarcely hear Vren over the drumming of the cannonfire, worse than static, he got the gist regardless. Taking the initiative himself, he found himself squeezing the trigger in such rapid succession that he looked to be firing a rifle. "We've a long way to go, then." Volo called out over the din.

Cleaning the street to get to them, however, was just another task for the Guildmaster to add to his list under the heading 'easier said than done'. Even with Nag firing everything she had, the horde remained unyielding. He eased off the trigger, turning his gaze to the surroundings instead. It didn't take the seasoned hunter long to spot an opportunity.

It just about brought a grin to the grump's face as his visor settled on it. Just at that moment, Vren chimed in.

"Brother, you up for some flying?"

<The opposite, partner,> the inspiration in Volo's, typically stern, voice was evident, even over comms.

For any of the select few who the Karjr Guildmaster allowed himself to show emotions around... that was a bad sign. For Vren, soaring into the air, it just meant a good show... if he was into that sort of thing.

Sliding his pistol back into its holster, he aimed his right vambrace at the sole support strut. Not a second later, his wrist rocket was shrieking through the street, up to the strut. The explosion tore through the durasteel frame, sending the billboard itself cascading down to the ground below, its immense weight and size crushing a great deal of the horde beneath it.

Volo wasn't done though; a ball of swirling, spitting energy in each hand. Waiting till the billboard settled and the remnants of the horde emerged, he built up the explosives of the Annihilator Code. When they finally stumbled their way through the dust and smoke, he hurled the bombs at them. If Nag's cannon had been excessive and the billboard decisive... then the bombs could only be described as unthinkably brutal; as each one landed, they exploded outwards like fire, the twisted energy of the Netherworld Bombs melting flesh and ripping bone.

Just as the damage seemed done, the final infected having given in to the painful embrace of a merciless death, the morally and ethically absent Guildmaster offered a huff of amusement audible over the comms. Without a second thought for what he'd just done, he pulled his cape around his shoulder and strode forward. Pausing only halfway through the field of bodies, he spared a glance to Vren and Nag behind him.

"How's that for street cleaning?" he quipped.​

​

 

[Olaya Astrapí]

Olaya grimaced at it all, a pounding headache slamming into her head. She lifted a hand and pressed her four fingers against her temple. She glared at the medical student, "And what did I just tell you! We can save-"

Listening to the fellow doctor, however, conflicted her. As the nurse indeed responded with a negative about blood flow, Olaya gritted her teeth. It's like trying to revive a dead-

No! No, she would not let herself think like that! She could save them... she had to... And yet, she was fixed with a dilemma. She clenched her fists before sighing. She hated to admit it, but the student had a point.

"Fine." She conceded, "There was a... peculiar case of an infected that I had been wanting to look at. Reese, pull up all files on Fenn Stag and prepare the laboratory for his arrival. Doctor Graker, make sure our other patients are out of the way for him. We'll save them when we're done with Stag."


She turned, snapping her fingers as several guards approached her, "I will go collect Stag himself. I have been wanting to meet the resilient one."

Flanked by several guards, Olaya Astropi entered a locked down room. On the other side of the glass, completely locked down, was her newest patient. She placed her fingers on the glass, watching the poor man writhe in agony. Unlike her other patients though, he was not at all violent. She lifted her hands from the glass and walked towards the entrance door.

"Doctor," a Mandalorian guard spoke, "We should be the ones detaining him. What if he turns-"

"We are not 'detaining,'" Olaya corrected him, "We are bringing him into our care. And I fully intend on being there every step of the way for my patient."

She opened the door, the first to walk into Fenn's house of suffering. She was soon followed by guards immediately "caring for " the infected.

"Fenn," She spoke in a gentle voice, placing her hand on his, "Do not be afraid, my patient. I am here to help you."

Fenn Stag Laura Reese Todblaz Graker

 

[Kayl Krayt]

Roon | Capital City
Equipment: In Bio.
Tags: Alora Vizsla | Open For Interaction!

​

"That's right," Alora cheered with a pump of one disruptor in the air, "you got some of the best support this side of the galaxy. Not every day you get a member of The Kandosii squad."

A Si’kahya? And a cream of the crop at even that?

He never thought he would have the opportunity to fight alongside a warrior of this caliber; with this new data revealed to him, the kid did not at all doubt her capabilities would prove to be invaluable during their efforts to rescue the survivors.

And she too was aware of that fact, of course, seeing as she carried herself in such a manner.

He was glad to have her at his side, as much as he assumed he could have pulled this off alone and by himself.

"That's interesting. They identify by scent? Even if the host doesn't normally? I mean, wouldn't the only visual cue be crazed indifference to their surroundings? Seems like a bad thing to cue off of. What if you came across another infected that was just standing there? Though, viruses aren't very smart to begin with."

His particle carbine shifting from one sector to the other, the young Misfit stood on watch in a crouched stance behind the wreckage as the Alora humored his question, theorizing the capabilities of the infected together. With what little they knew about the infected, it invoked a haze of rage from deep within an individual who had been compromised to the virus. It stripped them of the person they once were, turning them into a being little more than a crazed, bloodthirsty animal.

It did make sense the fact that they mostly differentiated “friend” from “foe” using their heightened senses of smell. No doubt they also used sight, as all predatory beings when they hunted, but the primary sense to identify another infected, or an unturned soul unfortunate enough to have crossed paths with an infected, was through their sense of smell.

And perhaps they could find a way to exploit that further, on top of using their blood and guts to camouflage themselves. <”I would have to concur with your statement,”> the kid said with a brief nod of his head; although the infected retained a level of motor skills they used in combat, and to hunt, his observations stated that they lacked their former cognitive capabilities. <”Perhaps we can trick them further, exploiting one of their strengths that also happens to be one of their weaknesses.”>

The viruses were not very smart, as Alora stated.

When she ducked back down, she gave Kayl a nod. "If they're lurking in the area, they'll see us approaching the building, but I don't see a horde out there. Doesn't seem much point trying to find the stealthiest way inside. But, before we bust in... how do you plan to gather all the survivors inside? There's only two of us, and forty-seven floors is a lot of ground to cover for twenty people. Think the place as a functioning intercom system?"

The kid’s glance turned and gave a quick nod of his head at Alora before looking down at the iron sights of his carbine once more. <”I was planning on using the building's intercom system to both coordinate the survivors and draw away the infected from their floors if they had presence there, yes,”> Kayl said in quick response to her question. <”Power’s been gone for the past few days, though. The local PDF had every strategically vital point of interest entrenched in the city, the power plant included, but their increased activity there drew a large horde more than they could handle.”> The Misfit continued. <”But complexes as large as this tend to have back-up generators in case of an outage. We should have electricity there. If not, I can restore the generator if it is damaged or turned off. We can then join up and direct the survivors to the roof and call for an extraction via gunship there,”>

<”What do you say? Sounds like a plan to me.”> he asked, wondering if she had something more to add to the plan prepared post-haste in the heat of things. They did not have much time to sit and think too, they needed to get a move on; he had dispatched the infected approaching their position, but there was no telling when more would show up.

And how many there would be once they did.

<”Right, time to move then.”> the kid would say if Alora expressed agreement to the plan with nothing else to add to it. Following his statement, the kid would rise from his crouched stance behind the wreck and take point, moving swiftly towards the apartment complex with his silenced carbine shifting from one sector to the other.

​

 

[Vren Rook]

Nime | Roon
TAG: Volo Dragr
GEAR: In Bio

DO RIGHT, FEAR NO MAN​

<The opposite, partner,>

Whereas Siv or any of their other brothers might have been disturbed by the emotion in Volo's voice, Vren just smirked. He knew what was coming and it was necessary. The few unaffected people left on the planet's lives depended on it.

<Girl, be ready to let up fire when Volo moves down the street. I really don't need him dead by your gun.> he told Nag.
:: Fine. But don't yell at me if they overrun. :: she snapped at him.
<Yes, ma'am.> he said sarcastically as he still rained down golden bolts.

The Dragr didn't waste time in acting. A billboard was toppled onto a majority of infected, flattening them in the street. But he doubled down by unleashing the wrath of the Mando'ade on the horde.

It was destructive.

Between Nag's heavy lasers and particle turret and Volo's crushgaunted explosives, there was really not much left. Vren just shook his head with a smirk as he holstered one pistol before he zipped down to the ground.

Touching down next to his brother, he put a bolt in an infected that was still moving.
"How's that for street cleaning?"
"You never disappoint, Dragr. Subtlety ain't exactly your specialty." Vren quipped back, but the smirk was evident in his voice.

"Let's go get 'em survivors, partner."

 

[Todblaz Graker]

Outfit | Ranger Armor
Equipment | HX-Revolver ; Cortosis Gloves
Tag | Olaya Astrapí Laura Reese Fenn Stag

Todd stood there understanding that his point had gone through, but now it seemed like it was time to prep for patient care and a quick vaccine to be made. He was hoping they'd be able to isolate the virus causing the issue, then have a computer combine it with antibodies. This would involve moving the RNA so that it can identify and kill the virus cells.

"I will prep the room for your return, we will then get to work." He said watching the doctor leave. Clapping his hands to get everyone's attention, "Lets get moving, I want the room cleared and I need a nurse to get me supplies. I require standard procedure craniotomy equipment, two twenty-seven gauge syringes, and a cranial drill."

The goal was to take a blood sample from a part of the body, preferably the hypothalamus, and see if they can find the virus in there. If this man was not turned they would need to use the virus in his body as the ones in the other bodies may have evolve to be more effective over time. While a solution could be made from them, it'd take more time.

The already infected presented a separate issue, logically they could be turned back, but it would be impossible to dictate at the moment if they'd even be alive. It would be a lot more effective to start executing them than to create an ineffective vaccine. If they, as stated by the medical student, were brain dead then there would be no fixing them. Brain death of any sort is impossible to come out of. To Todd's knowledge the only way to stop it was only theorized, and none of the ones he heard held water.

Turning to Laura, "Do you have any brain scans of the already infected, I need print outs of those to look over them. If not go tell someone to do them please."

Turning back to the scene he stood there silent still contemplating what to do. He decided to break the tension he was feeling, he said to anyone who would answer, "Hah, Doctor Astrapí is a unique character, has she always been that self-entitled?"

 

[Alora Vizsla]

Roon | Capital City

Alora looked over at Kayl and gave the young warrior a nod. Nothing better than using the enemy's weaknesses against them -- they just kind of begged for it. Though lots of people kind of wished the weakness was a little more... accessible. Like, they died after a day of not eating or something. Burned themselves out. It'd make containment easier anyway.

Kayl seemed to have a good handle on the situation given his response about upcoming plans. The locals had tried to secure major points of interest, only to draw the crazed people to them? Made sense, really. Natural defensive posture. Natural consequence of said posture. Alora could only speculate how things might get rebuilt when all this was done and dusted.

"Alright. Let's get over there and to central security or whatever they call it." Alora didn't have any complaints about Kayl's plan. Seeing how they knew nothing about the building's status or design rambling endlessly about possibilities wasn't very productive. Plus, she was getting a bit spent on the whole 'do not shoot or they will come' requirement of them lingering outdoors. They could barricade the entrance and deal with any crazies that lurked inside easily enough.

Kayl taking point didn't seem the best choice, but if he wanted a clear shot straight ahead Alora wasn't going to get into an argument out in the open.

When they drew up to the door, however, Alora patted Kayl's shoulder before she surged ahead. The crossing panels of metal were partially ajar leaving a square opening large enough for one to comfortable squeeze through. Whole assembly could be frozen. Rather than risk a squealing motor, Alora slipped up to one side of the opening. She carefully checked the one side then the next before she dropped to a knee to look up toward the ceiling. If there'd been a hungry monster loitering there her disruptors worked in tight spaces better -- silenced or not.

With a nod, Alora climbed through the opening and into the interior of the complex.

"Come on. We'll take the stairs." No tight spaces with no where to go. 'sides, the control room was on the third floor -- enough not to get easily overrun (in theory), but not out of reach.

"When we draw out any lurking in here, we might draw in more from outside. We'll need to get everyone to the roof quickly. Including ourselves." Kayl probably knew that already, but it was worth making sure. She hoped there was enough power without having to tinker with the generator.

A few corner checks later, Alora crept up to a door. She holstered her disruptors and popped the control panel off. "Cover me." It would only take a few seconds, but she really didn't want to get jumped with her attention on hot wiring the security lock.

Kayl Krayt