Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion Dark Harvest: Outbreak | Mandalorian Enclave Dominion of Gamorr



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DARK HARVEST
PART I

THEY ARE EVERYWHERE.

Scarif. The “Shining Star” of the Outer Rim, the tropical world drew millions of tourists annually to enjoy fair weather, cool seas and the vivid party life that the resort world had to offer.

Then, suddenly, the world went dark. Outbound flights and transmissions ceased completely. Worried about a potential Sith incursion, the Enclave dispatched a quick response force to the system to reestablish contact.

Their only transmission before going dark was:

THEY ARE EVERYWHERE.

Now the Mandalorian Enclave dispatches an elite team of trusted warriors to the world to figure out what is going on, and find the missing quick response force before it is too late.


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Objective I
Camp Phoenix | Scarif

An underground military black site dating back past Confederacy occupation to the era of the Galactic Empire, Camp Phoenix is the source of the final Mandalorian distress call. Descend and find the survivors so they can be extracted before
it’s too late.


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Objective II
Happy Mandalorian Casino | Scarif

Life form scans indicate high concentrations of biomass present at the Happy Mandalorian Casino, the center of nightlife for Scarif. Despite this, the casino has left multiple transmission pings unanswered. Deploy to the casino and figure out what is going on.


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Objective III
Communications Relay Tower | Scarif

The communications relay tower in New Lessu, responsible for all planetary and off world transmissions, has gone down. Restore power and get Scarif’s communications grid back online.


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Objective IV
BYOO​
Any additional story you want to write.

 




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


Si'kayha.

The word echoed in his mind.

Like whispers, from long ago. Guiding him. Pointing him, keeping him on the path.

His father saw the path on Shogun, crystals like fire, paths of orange and red.

Where would he find the path?



The training regimen alone had him exhausted for weeks. His training, his newfound expertise, would be finally put to the test. No longer a Hunter, a Karjr- or at least, taking a step back from his responsibilities, the young man was now a Si'kayha, in the Rekr order. Perhaps it was fate, perhaps it was humor that the upper command placed him there. As far as clones of Preliat went, he was unique in that he had no modifications- he was as all things could seem, a perfect genetic copy of Preliat, unmodified like his brethren.

But none of that mattered now- the mission was at hand. His training and acceptance into it aside, he had to do something more than pass the tests, and perform well in the training exercises. He had to perform. And as his first real mission as a soldier, an elite operator- he was, for the first time in quite some time, nervous.

Despite helping board a superweapon and fight the horrors there, the unknown struck a reasonable amount of fear into the young man. The team gathered around the entrance, lights on their weapons guiding their way into the descent, unsure of what they would find at the aging facility. In truth, he wondered what Preliat thought in times like these.

In reality, Fenn was about to be closer to Preliat than he ever would want to be. Preliat himself survived something quite similar to what Fenn would find down in that facility. They called it the same in Preliat's time, nearly two decades ago. The words that struck fear into even the heartiest and most bold of warriors.

The Dark Harvest.

Fenn, despite his efforts, was going to be more like his father than he ever wanted to be...






 

Aela Wren

Guest
A


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S P A R K P L U G
HAPPY MANDALORIAN CASINO | SCARIF
TAG: Pravus Cruento Pravus Cruento | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Juno Wren Juno Wren | Hakon Fett Hakon Fett | Open

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HOT BLOOD

She had almost forgotten about that data.

The highly confidential information Pravus had showed her before everything in the Confederacy fell apart. Nothing had come from the information on that datastick and then it was just out of sight, out of mind.

Big mistake.

At first no one knew what was happening. Just some kind of cold doing the rounds in New Lessu, but it soon seemed to spread planet-wide. More and more people were booked off sick.

It's a struggle running a casino with no organic staff. A droid is only good for so much.

They laboured on for about a month like this, the few organics still unaffected walking around with masks just in case. But then things took a turn for the weird.

People started emerging from their homes, only they weren't exactly people anymore. It was only after one violently came swinging at Aela, did she remember that day Pravus brought her the data.

Comms were also down, but the Enclave responded nonetheless. Not that the quick response did anything.

Now, they were all holed up in the casino, the blast doors and droids keeping out the feral population while a grumpy older Mandalorian was barking orders.
"You still remember how to use a gun, Butterbrain?" Alea asked Pravus. She had no idea how much longer they'll be able to hold out being stuck in the Happy Mando.

They might have to shoot their way out before long.



 
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NOT!LAS VEGAS, SCARIF
Aela Wren | OPEN


A week ago or so, a last-ditch effort of an S.O.S transmission had been sent towards the Order of the Sacred Lotus' headquarters on Monastery. Unfortunately for its sender, the transmission was hijacked by the motley crew of the Dead Maiden. Not a single word had reached the humanitarian order and yet help did it arrive.

'Help'.

A half-skeleton crew of the Maiden's pirates manned a commandeered Komnene-class medical frigate in Scarif's high orbit. Disguised as a humanitarian mission of the Order of the Sacred Lotus, the crew deployed a dozen 'aid workers' on the surface of the planet led by the few venerable 'good samaritans'. Saints, truly.

"Think it's a good idea you roll those sleeves down, Cap'n -- those tattoos don't really fit with the whole disguise." Curly Scrooge remarked as they walked down the strip of the seemingly abandoned gambling city.

"Not like there's anyone around, is there?" Bootstrap Lucci murmured as Rohak buttoned the sleeves of his shirt, concealing the various pirate tattoos claiming his skin.

"Fan out and strip this whole city down if you have to." Rohak ordered a dozen pirates in their stead before they split, silently cackling and rubbing their hands. A whole gambling town ripe for the taking.

Black Ice Corde, taking the point, suddenly stopped.

"What? Saw something?" Scrooge raised an eyebrow.

"Sensed something." she replied as everyone's hands began to itch for their concealed weapons.

"Aha! So I did manage to fix Gido's mess with the scanners." the shipmaster, Lucci, raised a proud finger.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Cap'n." Scrooge glanced at the Mandalorian. "Like somebody's watching us."

"Mm. Let's head towards the Mandalorian Casino -- lift everything that's not nailed to the floor and get out of here. Abe's new plasma torches should cut through the casino's vaults. We empty that, everything else the crew loots they can keep."

"The libertarian's dream lives ooon~" Lucci spread his arms in joy as the rest gave him glares full of cringe.​
 
Even with the city that had been built up around it, the command and communications spire still loomed over the skyline on Scarif. It had been nicer when the spire was still a destroyed wreck from centuries past, what little had survived being blasted by the Death Star rusting and crumbling in the tropical climate, before some resurgent empire or another had decided to come through and rebuild it. Almost an exact carbon copy from the Galactic Civil War, and from what he'd learned, poking around after Kardal's 'empire' went belly up, used for the same purposes.

Evidently, once the CIS had come through, they hadn't seen fit to remove it, or the shield gate high over the planet, sitting open and useless without any sort of traffic control guiding people through it.

"I have got one hell of a bad feeling about this," Kalen muttered to himself, scrolling along on a datapad. At least he'd finally gotten some armour after that 'training exercise' on Kestri, although it didn't do much to assuage his worries. The city completely deserted, except for readings that seemed like everybody was at the casino, an oddly ominous transmission from the initial quick-response team, and the command spire itself was sitting defenseless and completely dark.

Of course, that was the one he was getting sent into.

"Alright. First things first, we have to figure out where the generators actually are so we can restore power. If I had to guess, we're looking at one of the sublevels for that, but I don't know for sure. Think if we find a terminal, one of you can give it enough juice to slice it and get a floor plan we can follow?" He turned back to the group he was lumped with from the tower, stowing the datapad and sliding his helmet over his head.

Two kids that were built even thinner than he was, himself, and then some hulking brute of a Mando. Four people for an entire spire, that might be full of hostiles.

Fantastic.

"Scans didn't show any noticeable readings inside, either power fluctuations or lifeforms, but I don't trust it. My droid will be on standby with my ship in case we need a quick way out. Anything else any of you have for us to keep in mind before we head in?"


Hopefully don't split up was obvious enough not to need said.
 

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He'd be coming back here at some point in the future, that much was certain. Maybe when he had the credits, the resources he'd build a nice house along one of the beaches. Some place he could retreat to when he needed a break. Somewhere near the equator where it was always warm, have the place stocked with copious amounts of luxuries.

At least, he'd do so when the planet repopulated itself. As nice as a tropical retreat was, he'd rather there be some life around, if only to save him having to travel to a new system to resupply or find company to join him on any hedonistic romps. An entirely dead world wasn't the best vacation spot, regardless of how nice the weather was.

And if something was capable of wiping out an entire population. That would be something that should be taken care of before one starts purchasing real estate.

But hey, at least the mass slaughter would bring the prices down? Just had to deal with whatever it was that committed the massacare in the first place.

"I have got one hell of a bad feeling about this,"

No shit.

Populations don't vanish overnight. And considering the content of the distress call that they received, this entire situation was turning out to be something like a bad horror movie. Under his helmet his eyes flicked to Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla , knowing that with his luck, if this was a horror movie, she was likely to be the Final Girl.

He was the guy who was good with tech, so he'd probably die first right after seeing some log or watching a vid that showed the monster of this production killing everyone.

"If they followed standard designs, then yes. Generators are in the sub-levels. Front lobby should have a terminal I can get running." Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a series of small silver spheres, tiny probe droids, meant for surveying and mapping caves, slaved to his wristpad.

With a push of a button, they began to float up and make their way towards the entrance, blue scanning lines already starting to map out the area for them. "I'd say keep an eye out for signs of fighting. See if we can't ID any attackers, what weapons they used, etcetera." He hadn't drawn his weapon yet, but his free hand rested close to the pistol on his hip, not twitchy or overly paranoid. But ready to draw on a moment's notice.

There was little point in trying to be super quiet. Anyone who was keeping an eye out would know they were coming. The purpose of the droids were twofold, to map the spire and to trigger any traps or spot any enemies that might be around. Or just act as lovely bait for someone to attack.

"If the attackers were still around, we'd see signs of them. Defences, life signs. Anything. The only way they'd be able to keep a force capable of taking out a world like this is with a small army. And any tech that can cloak that many is either stupidly expensive, or stupidly power hungry. And there'd still be something to pick up."

At least, that would be the case if they were dealing with a traditional military force. After all, what else could take out a world like this? Even if it was on the borders, it was still an Enclave Territory. Not many would be ballsy enough to attack such a world.

"Power, logs, find out what happened. If this place monitors communications for the whole planet, we can probably find out exactly when and where this whole thing started and work backwards from there."

Kalen Genet Kalen Genet Kranak Vizsla Kranak Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla
 
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Objective I
Inside Camp Phoenix​

Tyrias Aran had lived a storied life in the galaxy. Once a Chiss Navigator, then a Confederate Fleet Marshall, and then Grand Marshall Luna Terrik's personal bodyguard and assassin. Camp Phoenix on Scarif was far from unfamiliar territory. It had been where Tyrias had first met the red-headed woman. Where the Chiss had taken to providing the Special Forces of the Confederacy with their own naval detachment ensuring their personnel and resources could move freely as needed. Activities that were coordinate, orchestrated, and only made possibly by the men and women stationed at this underground, inverted spire of the Grand Marshall's personal design.

Why, then, after the Confederacy's fall and Luna Terrik moving on did Tyrias return? Quite simply the red-eyed assassin was too duty-bound to leave to chance anything fell into the wrong hands. Even if those hands might be considered 'allies.' You didn't win the long-game assuming your enemies were idiots.

She'd arrived before the site went dark, and delved into the deep places of the base. Everything had gone to plan even if some were... resistant at first. Until it hadn't.

With the plasma blade gripped back-handed, the Chiss fought to keep her breathing low, slow, and above all quiet. Roll off the ball of the foot, roll slowly onto the heel. One step forward. All the while her red eyes scanned the interior and her ears remain alert to the smallest of sounds.

After what had taken an eternity, Tyrias stopped before a console in the Command Center. Her fingers danced over the controls with considerable familiarity with the system and its command codes. Dark blue lips peeled back to reveal her teeth, however, when the displayed displayed the message, 'Unable to Access Shield Gate.' No doubt related to why she couldn't contact anyone off world. Now, why she couldn't even reach the Happy Mandalorian Casino on the other hand... The situation was probably worse than Tyrias had feared.

The enclosed helmet swung to the side sharply at a distant clang of metal.

Slowly Tyrias turned back around and began accessing other control systems. Some internal damage was screwing with her ability to control the defense grid. Probably lucky to hit a star destroyer with the targeting array in such a mess. At least the distress signal had been cut off. Probably too late, but all Tyrias seemed able to do at this point was stem the bleeding...

With a buzz the plasma blade twirled in her grasp until it was held upright. The Chiss woman darted back from the console and made for the other exit as an unmistakable sound was closer than she'd expected. Time to return to the safe room.

Tag: Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Open​
 
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Kale Onara pulled the handle back and his modified YT-2000 the Beskar'kal or Iron Sword to the aruetii* reverted from hyperspace just outside the Scarif star system. His adopted son Jorin was hopping with the energy that came with being young, "Come on buir**. Let's go in."

"Not so fast adiik*."
Kale replied as he began doing sensor sweeps of the system, "Aside from a cryptic distress call that only said 'They are everywhere', we know nothing about the situation we might be going into." Though his tone was firm, Kale was smiling slightly, enjoying the exuberant energy that came with being young. Jorin had certainly come a long way since he found the him as a boy during a rescue mission on a farming planet. It had taken Kale quite a while to draw the boy out from the shell he was in but know as a boy on the cusp of being teenager, Kale decided that now was the time to truly test Jorin under real battle conditions. Yes, this would be Jorin's Verd'goten**. If he were successful on this mission, he would be recognized as a full Mandalorian. Kale glanced over at Jorin and his smile widened. Kale was confident that Jorin had the combat and survival skills to do well. Jorin was an ever growing source of Mandalorian pride for Kale and Kale knew the boy who was about to become a young man would be a great man and an honorable warrior.

Jorin's head suddenly tilted as if he knew he was being watched and he looked at Kale, "Problem buir?"

Kale shook his head, "No problem at all." He went back to looking at the system scans. "Looks pretty quiet in-system but let's not take any chances we don't need to. Activating sensor jammers. Going to stealth mode." The ship started piping out static emissions resembling background radiation all around. Aside from that, active sensors were shut down and passive sensors activated, power modes were shifted down, Engine thermal suppressors were activated reducing the ship's sensor signature significantly. On a standard sensor sweep, the ship should appear as some sort of radiation anomaly but nothing to alarm anyone until they within visual range. "Ok, here we go." Kale activated the sublight engines and slowly made their way toward Scarif. "We'll be there soon. Let's go get our gear ready." Jorin nodded and they both made their way back to the cargo bay. In the cargo bay, they broke the weapons and gear. Weapons were checked and rechecked. Nothing really ruins your day like having a weapon fail at just the wrong moment. Usually that meant that you died a moment later. Equipment was also checked and rechecked. Once they did their initial checks the two checked each other. Another set of eyes from someone you trust never hurt.

As they finished their checks, an alert came from the cockpit. Heading back, Kale saw that they were in orbit of Scarif. Passive sensors didn't reveal much. Kale brought up a holomap of the planet and tried to pinpoint the source of the Mandalorian distress call but the readings were confusing. He had a general idea of where it had originated from but he couldn't lock it down. It seemed the only way he was going to get any answers was to go to ground. Knowing he wasn't going to get anything else useful up here, Kale called to another crew member, "Rascal! Get up here!" His R5 astromech, affectionately named Rascal because primarily because the little trash compactor was as much a pain in the sheb'ika as he was useful came into the cockpit grumbling in his usual tones. "Oh knock it off. All you do stay plugged into your socket when I don't have you working. Your servos are probably rusting and your datacore is full of junk anyway. So stop getting fat and set a landing course for these coordinates before I decide to open everything that's closed on you and close everything that's open!" He ordered in a firm tone. The little droid seemed to shake with outrage at essentially being called fat but he did as he was told though both knew that Kale's threat was an empty one. Kale loved that little droid as much as anyone else and Rascal seemed to hardwired to protect Kale when it came down to it. Kale opened an interal comm channel, "We're headed down to the surface Jorin. We'll disembark in 10 minutes." As they descended, Kale looked at Rascal, "As soon as we set down, Jorin and I will head out and secure the ground. Once we're set, head back up into low orbit and wait for our signal." Rascal gave Kale an affirmative beep and Kale gave the droid a pat on the head before heading back into the cargo bay.

Upon entering the cargo bay, Kale grabbed a hold of handholds like Jorin had done so that they could remain stationary and standing while they went through the atmosphere. He trusted Rascal to land the ship safely so know all the two Mandalorians had to do was wait. Rascal gave them a warning beep that they were 30 seconds from landing. Kale gave Jorin a thumbs-up and the young Mando returned the gesture. At last the repulsors fired and the ship settled on its landing struts. Kale hit a button and the loading ramp opened. The instant it was down, both Kale and Joring rushed out, rifles at the ready. They both went to one knee and swept the area. With no immediate threats, Kale sent a coded all clear signal to Rascal before taking the lead and heading away from the ship. Once the two of them were about 25 meters from the ship, Rascal fired the engines and the ship quickly retreated back into the sky. Kale took a reading of where the source of the distress signal was supposed to be and signaled for him and Jorin to head in that direction.

* aruetti - outsider
** buir - father (parent)
*** adiik - son (child)
**** Verd'goten - coming of age
 


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Beneath her visor, Gwyn gazed out into the abandoned city with a an ill sense of foreboding. The situation in of itself was bad enough, what with the town being completely deserted or worse, massacred. Through the Force, she sensed something was awful as well. Yet… she could not make out what it was.

Holding her rifle in her arms, she sighed. Her kama rustled in the wind, her hood loosely flapping over her buy'ce. She gazed out into the streets with her cybernetic eyes as her companions spoke. She could not see anything either.

It was far too quiet…

He looked back up to the young man, Koth Kryze Koth Kryze , as he mentioned his skills as a slicer. His droids were awfully cute, and the mention Kalen Genet Kalen Genet made of a ship ready to go in emergencies helped her feel a little bit better. It was always wise to have contingency plans, no matter how much confidence you had in yourself. She looked over to her buir, Kranak Vizsla Kranak Vizsla , for a moment. Despite the fact that both wore visors and full armor, they could ready each other fairly well based on body language and what they knew of each others' personalities. She looked over to Koth and shifter her rifle. Leaning it against one shoulder, she let go with her off hand and lifted her engineering vambrace and activated the scomp key for her companions to see, <"I can slice too. Get into scomp circuits, hack computers. And I have a good sense of my surroundings as well. I'll keep an extra eye out for any nearby threats. I have a bad feeling about this place…">

Well, Gwyn was very proud of her Force Sensitivity, but she knew not all vode shared her sentiments. She left room for her ability to "sense" things to be interpreted as her of spatial awareness and cybernetic eyes. On her person, she had many pistols, her assault-sniper rifle hybrid, her small assault rifle, and several grenades. She also had her beskar'gam and cybernetics, and the hidden lightsabers in her cybernetic leg. So far, the local area was chillingly silent, with no sentient life as all present. Even when she stretched her powerful Force Sense out several blocks, nothing… This was wrong. Vacant. Empty…

<"This doesn't feel right at all…"> She shuddered, retracting her scomp key and adjusting the Distant Chill back to an attacker's hold. She paused and looked between Kranak and Kalen. Both asserted auras of leadership and authority. She could infer that Kalen was leading this mission, but she trusted Kranak with her life. She then looked over to Koth. Both she and him must have been assigned here due to their abilities as engineers and slicers. But would their combined skills be enough? It all felt wrong. In the Force, there was a daunting disturbance. What… what was going on here?

She looked out into the mission field and gulped. Only one way to find out…
 

Karkosuchus

Guest
K




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The Nakaioma Corporation had better pay him extra for the trouble of entering into Mandalorian Enclave Space. Some of their assets had been lost on the world of Scarif and he had been hired by the Chairman of said corporation Saro Nakaioma Saro Nakaioma to investigate such a disruption in productivity. Having found a freighter which just barely good clearance codes to smuggle him on the world and leave without erupting much concern from the Mandalorian Forces currently planetside.

The small slush of water was found underneath his
C-PH Patrol Speeder Bike which he had looted from the Aratech Repulsor Company in one of there various warehouses. The speeder bike could reach around 400 kilometers per hour which should allow him to out run any mandalorian deciding to chase him for being an outsider and wanted criminal. Although in the event of that failing he counted on the Forward Fixed BlastTech Industries AX-25 blaster cannon to settle the score with any trigger happy patrol. His own equipment would be more than enough to handle one or two highly skilled mandalorians but their fighting style was legendary in many circles.

He tapped on the forward facing bank of repulsorfield vector guides for maneuvering and checked the map of the Nakaioma Building on the world. A large 3 story building with enough high tech security to make the fortress world of bastion look like a joke. His yellow gaze looked towards the locked entrance into the building. No one was around which was strange; he at least expected some form of security to prevent him from entering if they had gone rogue from company command. Karkosuchus got up from the patrol speeder bike and made his way over.

He tapped on the security gate and awaited anyone to hear the noise; although no one responded. He snarled as something didn't sit right with him. Reaching into his holster and grabbing his stouker concussion rifle within his right hand. His left hand reached towards the gate and using his own brute strength to tear the door off its hinges. Throwing it aside into the water behind him. His loud footsteps caused slashing motions as he made his way towards the entrance into the main building.

"No one appears to be here; this doesn't sit right with me." Karkosuchus said to no one in particular; until a red sith spirit emerged besides him. A sith pureblood by the name of Darth Addleban's whose cursed armor he was now wearing and forced him to share his body with. Karkosuchus didn't mind his presence but no one could see him except for highly trained force sensitives.


"Clearly it a sign of an elaborate ruse.." : Darth Addleban started to say until sensing something off through the force but it was faint enough not to notice unless someone was actively searching for it. He neglected to tell his host about it. Instead he would offer some more sound advisement to avoid both of their deaths. "We should seek out another way inside the facility. Going straight through the entrance is a fool's error." : He advised once again to the giant reptile.

"Fine; we'll take the long way" Karkosuchus replied; annoyed with the idea of finding another route. The entrance was the most easiest way inside and they likely had a map stationed that could display the layout of the Nakaioma Facility. Better allowing them to secure the entire place before making the conclusion about what was stopping productivity for the corporation.

His footsteps left the main entrance towards the back of the building; looking to find another way in.


 
When Scariff went dark, high command had thought it was a Sith incursion. Juno had jumped at the chance to be part of the Quick Response Team, for her mother had been of the Mandokarla, and her mother's mother, and her mother before her- she had been bred for the Great Hunt, the Yai'yai Oya'karir, weaned on stories of great and wise Y'ivra.
This was meant to be her chance to prove to herself that she worthy of that lineage, for her adventures hunting Force Users in the greater galaxy had thus far been lackluster and unfulfilling. This was meant to be a culmination of her training and her trials.
But they hadn't found any Sith on Scarif- they'd found something worse: monsters, mindless and feral, in the guise of citizens.
Not enemy soldiers, or terrorists, or even pirates…
But people. A bristling horde of them, like a swarming hive, clamoring for blood.
The QRF had been overrun almost immediately after they touched down planetside, forced to abandon their transport and fall back to the Happy Mandalorian Casino, barricading themselves behind its heavy blast doors.
As far as Juno was concerned, they'd been here too long. Someone had managed to get a message out, before everything went to shavit- she had no doubt reinforcements would be arriving soon, and she didn't want to be sitting in the casino when they did. She'd stripped and cleaned her weapons about two dozen times already, and paced the length of the room several times over.
I'm not going to wait here to be rescued. "Is there roof access from here?" She didn't address anyone in particular. "We should send someone up to take a look outside."
By someone, she meant herself.
 
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S U R R O U N D E D

Objective: Survive
Tag: Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran | Kale Onara Kale Onara

"DO NOT LET THEM PAST THOSE DOORS," Romul bellowed to the two commandos welding the blast doors sealed shut as the small band of two dozen or so Mandalorians sheltered in the central processing room. The floor space was predominately occupied by rows and rows of processing stations with power cables haphazardly strewn about, sparingly illuminated by the glowrods mounted to the Mandalorian's helmets. They were the last of a team of more than triple their size that had landed on Scarif to investigate the blackout of all traffic and communications.

They were surrounded. And they were alone.

After a surprise incursion by the Sith on Kamino, Romul had vowed that any future incursion would meet retribution personal from him. And so when alarms had gone off indicating a non-response from regular pings to Scarif's relay network, it had been Romul at the vanguard of the operation to bring Scarif back online. He had led his Mandalorians to the system expecting to find a Sith fleet, but instead had found nothing. And when the forward operations party touched down, the usually packed city of New Lessu had been all but deserted.

All but deserted until the Mandalorians had descended into the depths of the old military black site. Since then they had been hounded by creatures. . . creatures that Romul could not describe. They seemed to take blaster bolts without hesitation despite it causing injury to their body. They were unrelenting. And when he had seen them tear into the flesh of his fellow soldier. . .

Romul Saxon had seen many horrors of war. But this was one that hedid not want to dwell on, whatever it was. "Try the communications again," he growled to a Jikar commando as he held his blaster gripped tightly in his massive arms. The medic was treating one of the Galaar light infantry who had gotten bitten when they'd made their hasty retreat to the central processing room. They had been unable to push through the hordes of the creature to their exit, and had welded shut the doors to delay what felt like the inevitable. Already they could here the pounding at the doors. . . their time was limited.

The Jikar stood, dialing on his wrist-mounted commlink. Romul could hear the static. "No response. Same as last time, and the time before that. I can't establish a connection to the planetary relay, and without it our commlinks are too weak underground like this. There are probably latent sensor dampeners or some other technology in the base that's left over, to make it harder to detect."

Romul brooded. So they were alone, and without a way to send help. "Very well, then." He said matter-of-factly, taking a seat on a pushed over crate as if he were simply waiting for the inevitable. If this were to be their last stand, then it would be glorious.

 
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Their sector was nothing short of a ghost town.

Only the gentle rustling of the wind disturbed the night. Under different circumstances, it would be a peaceful night, but suspense was heavy in the air.

Deploying onto their insertion point via gunship, just a block away from the communications relay tower, they could detect no movement, and neither did their scanners pick up any heat signatures in their vicinity as they made their way towards the durasteel blast doors of the relay station, closed shut.

The giant remained silent, assessing the situation at large while pulling security for the group, as they spoke their minds, and settled on a solid plan to execute; standing tall at the rear of their formation, the Paranaor in the giant’s hands swept from one sector to the other, making sure nobody could outflank them without catching a blaster bolt to the cranium.

They all had a feeling of unease settling into their minds about all of it, and rightfully so.

Things did not add up in the giant’s inquisitive mind, as well. This could not be the doings of a conventional, or an unconventional opposing force. They had early warning systems all across Enclave space as a precaution against the likelihood of an incursion in the form of an invading fleet, which also served to help monitor and more often than not, reveal ship movements of pirates operating in their space.

The planet also had a local garrison of planetary defense force troopers stationed on every Enclave planet, with their prime directives being to protect the planet and her people against any opposition in the event of an attack by a hostile force. Scarif was no exception to this.

The latter, along with the rest of the planet, had gone dark. Not only restoring the communications relay into operational status once more would help them figure out the cause of it all, but it was also vital for the Enclave’s ongoing operations on the planet, to bolster their coordination.

Feeling a gaze he was all too familiar with wash over him, the giant looked at his daughter from over his left command pauldron; the master crafted blaster rifle in his hands kept at a high-ready stance. He need not be a Force User or gifted in the Force to perceive her unease. Despite the perturbation they all shared, whether it was small or large, the young girl was calm as ever. The Alor gave her a silent nod of his head before turning his attention back to pulling security again. He had eternal faith in her; the young one had survived Tython, passing the ancient rite of passage of their people; her Verd’goten. He did not assume this would compare to that massive battle, waged not long ago.


<"This doesn't feel right at all…"> She shuddered, retracting her scomp key and adjusting the Distant Chill back to an attacker's hold.

<”There is no use fearing the inevitable, adike.”> The Vizsla said as he slowly turned around, stoic as ever while he referred to them all. He lowered the rifle in his hands as he walked past the group and continued towards the closed blast doors of the tall communications spire. <”We must restore planetary wide communications, and promptly.”> The giant continued as he walked past them.

Fear for their own well being, or the well being of their fellow comrade beside them, was something they all shared in common, both seasoned veteran and greenhorn alike; it only varied in intensity, and outspokenness. After all, there was no telling who’s turn it was to walk the long march to the Mandalorian Oversoul. That uncertainty was ever present, in every operation such as this.

But duty demanded the warrior to overcome that natural reaction in order to achieve their objective.

The giant came to a halt two feet before the entrance that barred them access. His grasp faded away from the rifle in his hands; it hung over his broad chest plate, suspended by its sling. The giant’s right foot slid back slightly as his toned muscles tensed underneath the form fitting flightsuit; poised to strike, his right hand drew back as it balled into a fist, and shot forth a moment after, crashing straight on the mechanical locking mechanism of the blast doors with a muffled thud.

The sturdy metal plating groaned in protest as it gave way underneath the giant’s might, combined with his crushgaunt. Its structural integrity compromised, the giant easily slid his cybernetic left hand into the crack between the doors alongside his right, and parted the blast doors wide enough to grant them passage into the interior of the spire a moment after, without breaking a sweat.

The darkened, lightless interior hallway stretched deep towards the entrance lobby before him. His hand reached and lowered his helmet mounted macrobinoculars, switching to night vision mode. His grasp returned to the Paranaor blaster rifle afterwards, its barrel trained down the hallway as his trigger finger remained over the trigger guard.


<”Let’s move,”> When the rest of the team joined him, the giant would take point at the front and move towards the front lobby desk at the end of the hallway. If the console was still functioning, not damaged beyond repair but unpowered, they could restore its power for just a moment to get the layout they needed to find the facility’s generators and turn them on.


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Aela Wren

Guest
A


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I R O N S T A R
ROAD TO ALOR
NEW LESSU | SCARIF

TAG: Hakon Fett Hakon Fett | Open

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WILL OF THE PEOPLE

Silence.

It was dead quiet in the streets of New Lessu. Scarif in its entirety was quiet. No movement other than the Si'kayha forces and Karjr touching down on the ground, ready to investigate.

It was too quiet.

Shel's dark eyes scanned the area. She was technically not in the official Si'kayha ranks yet, with Vlemoth Port coming into the Enclave fold only a month or so ago, but they were the same culture.

"Alor'ad, scans in orbit have picked up humanitarian relief that just touched down planetside." Kel Awaud told her. "Dadita is a wonderful thing."
Shel's brow furrowed. "They're like vultures. How the hell do they even know? We don't even know what the situation is yet." she said, tendrils bristling. "Find out where they are. They'll need to stick with us until we know the situation."
"Yes, Alor'ad." he said before taking off with three other Clan members.

Shel's hands rested on her hips as she looked down the empty street in the direction of the lavish casino that stood out among the rest of the buildings.
"You think there'll be anyone in there?" she said, motioning with her chin to the casino. It was a good a rallying point if any if something went wrong.
"Probably. Worth a look, I'd wager." Jane Awaud said. Shel nodded in agreement.

Just then, a location signal bleeped on all their wrists, coming from Kel.
"Damn these dead comms!" Shel growled. "Let's go!" Her jetpack roared to life and she launched into the air, flying towards where the signal was coming from. The rest of the squad followed suit.

Touching down close to Kel and the others, they all huddled together behind a building.
"Found the medical aids. They are on the way to the casino for some reason. But that ain't all. We're picking up strange things on the scanners - organic, but little to no heat. Something's up, Alor'ad." he reported to her.
Shel thought quickly. "Let's get to those aids, form a perimeter. Weapons at the ready, Vode. It's way too quiet around here for my liking."
"Got it."
They all took to the air again and headed down the street to quickly touch down around the group of 'humanitarian aids' not too far from the casino.

"Not the right time for you all to be here now. You walked into the middle of a special operation. Got any guns if things start to go south around us?" she asked the golden-haired man closest to her as the rest of her squad turned outward. Shel's tendrils quivered as they picked up on scents surrounding the humanitarian group. Dark eyes narrowed slightly.

"Who are you, by the way?"



 




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


The descent downwards grew ever more eerie.

Not a soul encountered them. Gore a plenty- bodies strewn about. Torn apart. Guards, scientists, workers. Strewn about, or at least, what was left of them. The flashlights from the Commandos' weapons lit their path.

But not a soul met to greet them. Intermittent blaster marks. But the weapons remained. No scorch marks on the bodies. No slugthrower shells on the ground. Some still held onto their weapons- any trained enemy would remove the weapons from a fallen foe. This was something else. Something...

He felt the word "evil" was appropriate.

No survivors, no contacts, no radio communications.

No noise at all.

The team of Commandos, hearty and brave as they came, became worried. They were descending further into the facility by an elevator shaft, leading even deeper into the heart of the once-prosperous outpost. Fenn set up the line, and was handed a green flare. He dropped it into the shaft, watching it fall, and fall, and fall....

Before softly landing, a dull green light enveloping the bottom of the elevator. Then, out of the green glow, something clicked. Something clicked and came into view. A human face, or- what was left of it. It came to the light, looking down at it, before looking up. And it clicked again, opening it's mouth as if to scream, but only....

Groaned, in a way.

Then, disappeared back into the darkness, slipping away. The Commandos in unison lined their weapons down the shaft, flashlights lighting up the elevator.

It, he, she, or whoever it was, was gone.

Fenn was the first to speak after everything settled down and the Commandos relaxed, if only slightly.

"What in the Manda was that?"











 

Karkosuchus

Guest
K




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His yellow eyes scanned the area behind the Nakaioma Corporation Building. He banged on the walls with a moderate amount of force to determine structural integrity. They were thick enough to withstand his own boosted strength for a considerable amount of time. Karkosuchus didn't have time to break down a section of the wall to step into. Raising his head a bit to look towards the roof. If they had an entrance on the roof than that would be weaker than the walls. Climbing wasn't hard for a giant like himself but his weight plus his equipment's weight might make the section he was climbing on collapse on itself.

He reached out with his giant hands and dug his claws into the wall just enough to help him climb and not enough to wedge them. His left foot and then right foot joined his hands on the wall. His speed was slow to avoid the problem mentioned before; shifting his weight around after each step to balance out. Although climbing the wall took about 15 minutes before finally making it onto the roof. His assumption was correct and there lay a roof exit.

Making his way over; he decided some quick thinking was needed. "Hmm, there is no way to know what beyond this door." He checked it out for pressure triggers or small automatic turrets disguised as bricks. Finding nothing was strange considering the complex security at the entrance. But then figured within his head that most people wouldn't think to use the roof exit to actually enter inside.

"We could you know; perhaps just kick down the door and see." : Darth Addleban replied with sarcasm; finding the over cautious behavior would cost them the opportunity to figure out what was going on. He cared very little about the Nakaioma Corporation or its loss of productivity. The danger he sensed before was on his mind and the thought of experimentations came to mind through using his host.

Karkosuchus raised his giant foot and slammed it against the door; as it flew off into the wall behind it with a crash. "Happy now?" He asked the Sith Spirit bound to his own body through the cursed armor. He raised his concussion rifle into both hands and stalked down the stairway until coming across a sign that read 3rd Floor Research. "At the risk of sounding cliche; I have a bad feeling about this." Karkosuchus said towards the sith spirit.

"Anything involving corporate research is bound to be bad. Look at the Czerka Corporation and there mutant projects." : Darth Addleban replied; ignoring his remark about being happy. Back in the Old Republic Period; the Czerka Corporation experimented with all kinds of dangerous substances which caused both the Republic and the Sith Empire questionable concern. These modern corporations likely were repeating history.

"Corporate research or not; I've got a job to do without fail." Karkosuchus said; opening up the door into the research laboratory. Walking through the various work stations with projects still upon them. There was certainly activity within this room before as he could tell due to some projects still being recently heated. Whatever happened here was ususual and there was no lightsaber marks or mandalorian weapons around to indiciate that they had anything to do with the lack of production.

He came across a sign within that section about "Codex.R15.3027." which he either assumed was a science project or the archives for the projects going on here due to the word codex.

However this was all speculation until he actually made his way towards that area.



 
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NOT!LAS VEGAS, SCARIF
Shel Beroya | Juno Wren Juno Wren | OPEN


"Company, Cap'n." Scrooge reported and each one of the pirates faintly coiled, hands ready to pull out their concealed guns. Spotting the Mandalorians lunging from the air without firing a shot, Rohak hissed a whisper. "Act normal."

But acting normal was a task of biblical proportions.

You have a Mistryl Shadow Guard with a hundred war crimes slapped on her name and an emotional spectrum limited to irritated and furious.

A quartermaster Nautolan suspected to be a cannibal.

A lunatic Givin professing to be the messiah of individual rights and private property.

A black-clad protocol droid that merely understood diplomacy through the art of torture.

And a Mandalorian so distant from clan and kin, dar'manda would've been an understatement.

Normality was a concept long lost to this motley crew of scum.

Rohak sized the Mandalorians' leader from head to toe, noticing hers and her vod's clan insignias painted across their armors. Beroya and Awaud was the ones he could make out; clans once minor during the pirate captain's tenure as a full-fledged Mandalorian in the zenith of Ra's crusades and the cursed reign of the Pretender Mantis.

The moment of awkward silence lasted a little longer than it should have before a tardy reaction of feigned distress enveloped the 'aid workers'. Bootstrap theatrically raised his arms in surrender, Curly followed in a much more composed manner and Corde could hardly hide the reluctance with which she lifted her hands up. The droid was last to put up his robotic limbs, mimicking his master the Captain.

"We're aid workers of the Sacred Lotus answering a distress signal coming from here, madam." he gestured at the couple of hover-stretchers in their stead. "Are you of the Mandalorians in this sector?" Rohak asked, feigning ignorance.

"We're only here to offer our help to anyone in dire trouble. We mean not to interfere with any special operations." Lucci added.​
 
Kale and Jorin hiked through the terrain for a bit before Kale called and Jorin took another reading and frowned at the results, "Buir, these results are confusing."

Kale linked the tracer readings to his helmet and frowned, "We do appear to be closing on the known source of the distress call, but the angle of deflection is all wrong. What does that mean?" Kale asked Jorin always ready to turn a problem into a training lesson.

Jorin rechecked the angle of deflection and the answer came to him, "It's a downward deflection. The source of the distress call must be underground."

Kale nodded his approval, "So what's our next course of action adiik?" He asked.

Jorin turned thoughtful again and then activated his holomap, "Use the topography to predict the most likely place or places that has an entrance or underground path to the source of the distress signal or the structure that would be housing it." Kale smiled under his helmet as Jorin began plotting possible location points. "Ok it looks like two immediate possibilities. One here at this reasonably flat area where we could possibly find ventilation shafts to use. Second could be somewhere along this rockface here where the main entrance could be concealed by terrain or possibly holographic generator."

"Very good."
Kale agreed, "Which one do you think would be best to pursue first?"

Jorin pointed to the flatter area, "We would have a tough time finding the main entrance and it's more likely to be guarded with sensors or surveillance. So trying to find a vent shaft would be the better option." When Kale nodded and gestured for Jorin to take point. As they made their way toward the plateau, Kale began switching his vision modes toward the infrared spectrum. If Jorin was right about vent shafts, then perhaps they could pick up some thermal ejections or at least air density fluctuations. After ten minutes of scanning, nothing. Not a trace of thermal or air density changes. It wasn't until Jorin's foot smacked into something metallic that they found it. Not knowing what he hit, both Mandalorians froze. Kale ever so slowly moved toward Jorin and checked to see what his foot had contacted. Kale sighed in relief and gave the all clear hand signal. Jorin swallowed and sighed, "Sorry Buir."

Kale waved it off, "It happens to everyone every so often. Just pay more attention next time, ok?" When Jorin nodded, they went around what appeared to be the end of a large vertical tube. On top was metal grating that appeared to be one big piece. "Well it looks like we're going to have to cut through this if we want to proceed. You start there, I'll start over here and we'll meet in the middle. I want a very good sized hole that we can fly through if we're coming out hot." Jorin nodded and they both went to work. With the two of them working together, it didn't take long to cut through the metal grid. They both watched the big piece of metal fall into the shaft to see how far it was to the bottom. Finally when it made a dull clang at the bottom, Jorin looked at Kale, "I'd say a good 30 meters down?"

Kale nodded and then drew his modified twin DH-17 blaster pistols as he got ready to head down. He didn't want to use his primary weapon, the legendary Brumal Dawn, unless absolutely necessary. "I'll take point on this part." Kale stated before he stepped off the ledge and began falling down the shaft. He used his jetpack to control his descent and switched his vision to low light when the light from above began to fade. When he landed, he found himself on another metal grid and a large inactive vent fan underneath. He signaled Jorin to come down as he saw a hatch nearby. Kale was examining the control panel when Jorin made his say down. "Looks like it's been powered down. See if we can't cut our way into the hatch or blow it while I can see what I can do with control console."

Jorin shook his head, "It's a heavy hatch Buir. Looks like reinforced Durasteel. Take quite a bit to blow through it and it might collapse the vent shaft if we did." Kale nodded as he played with the innards of the control panel he got open, "Alright. Let me see if I can hotwire the power...there..." The front of the control panel lit up, "Great now we just need it to open."

He had just the tool for that. He pulled out what looked like an old Imperial code cylinder which was in fact a custom made data spike. He installed it in the port and sent a coded signal to Rascal who was maintaining low orbit in the Iron Sword. "Rascal, I got a hatch here I need you to slice into." Kale almost laughed at hearing Rascal grumbling bleeps and tones as he replied, "Just do it you pile of bolts or next time I see you, I'm going to put salt water in your oil bath." That got Rascal's attention because not 30 seconds later, the hatch slid politely open, "Thank you Rascal and make sure it stays open incase we need to leave in a hurry. Out." Jorin unslung his modified A280C blaster rifle and the two Mandalorians made their way out of the vent shaft into what looked to be a maintenance hall.

After going about 10 meters in, a warning beep sounded indicating that their comms with their ship had been lost. "Must be too deep or their is shielding around." He considered the situation and saw how close they were getting to the source of the distress beacon, "Well, let's see if anyone is around..." Kale activated his commlink and began sending out a signal on all common Mandalorian frequencies, "To anyone hearing this transmission, this is Karjr Kale Onara answering the distress call of my vod. If anyone is receiving this, respond immediately." Both of them then waited to see if there any responses as the message played and replayed over and over again. He'd give anyone about five minutes to reply before proceeding.

TAG: Fenn Stag, Romul Saxon, OPEN
 
Trying to find a Dogfight Foe

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Objective: Link up with others and get a ride out of the place

Tag: Fenn Stag Fenn Stag Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran | Kale Onara Kale Onara Kale Onara Kale Onara | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Wrist Mounted rocket launcher x3 each wrist l Light Saber


Stolen Uniform

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Mae was aboard a Komnene-class medical frigate healing from her most recent adventure away from her Mandalorian and Sith Master. Because her Master was Mandalorian, she felt like she was adopted into the culture and lifestyle a bit, although she knew she was not a true Mandalorian until she took her oath. But because she felt like she was living the life of a potential, she felt the need to protect them and their own. She had not come to the aid of this distress call, however, she was flung upon it. You see, she was aboard the medical frigate, healing her wounds, when a pirate crew boarded it an began to take it for their own. Luckily, she was able to exit her bacta tank in a reasonable amount of time after the alarms and whistles were going off. She managed to reach her weapons, mainly her lightsaber, just as a pirate rounded the corner and entered her personal suite. She lunged with her lightsaber and followed it with a swirl and spin with a high slash that removed the pirates head from its shoulders. As the pirate laid on the floor, Mae then realized that it was wearing Mandalorian armor... She just stood in shock for a moment, what has she done? She had to hurry and remove the pirates clothing to wear as a disguise and was pleasantly surprised to find her foe was not only a woman, but also had pirate tattoos which would indicate she stole the armor and was not in fact a real Mandalorian.

Mae quickly undressed the pirate and slipped herself into the pirates, Mandalorian gear and armor. She stashed her lightsaber in one of the compartments of the utility belt and then made her way out into the main corridor of the ship to find the other pirates ransacking the ship. She blended in better than she thought she would. When the last pirate had left the corridor, she made her way back into her suite, retrieved the body of the pirate, and carried her to the adjacent airlock before launching her into space.

Now that all the evidence of her swap had been taken care of, she followed in line with the other pirates of then Dead Maiden, keeping her mouth shut as she did. Whenever she was asked a question, she simply nodded or shook her head.

(OOC Hakon Fett Hakon Fett thank you for the way entrance)



As the Komnene-class medical frigate made its way down to the surface, Mae made her way back down to the airlock on the bottom of the craft and opened it. She planned to exit the craft before it landed and its crew found out she was not who she appeared to be. Just as she peaked out, they were still too high to jump from, but in the distance, she saw a ship land in front of them and not too far away from in was a small body of water. She quickly counted off to herself, before she jumped from the ship down to the body of water near the other ship. She immediately surfaced, and began to swim for shore near the landed ship. She saw two figures exit the ship and sighed when the ship then took off. She had hoped to take off with the ship but now, she would have to follow the two who got off to see if she could secure a ride. As she exited the water and made her way behind the two, she noticed that they too were covered in Mandalorian armor. The luck had finally gone her way. She might get a ride off this planet after all. However, she like most Mandalorians, they were most likely very suspicious of others and would not like to be snuck up on. She followed but not too closely to be detected. She waited for a more opportune moment to reveal herself where she would not be shot in. She followed them as they explored and then stopped to cut open a large vent shaft. She thought this would be the best time to reveal herself, but just before she did, they froze like they were alerted to something and she slid back into the shadows. Soon after, they each jumped in the hole and used their jet packs to float softly to the bottom.

At the bottom, she watched from above as the two were stuck behind some blast doors. One of them made a communication to his ship and shortly after, the door opened and the two entered. Just as they entered out of sight, she jumped down the shaft and used the force, not her jetpack to soften her landing. This way, she continued to hide her presence to the two she followed. Just as she tried to think of a new way to approach the two, they made a communication out to anyone who was listening.

"To anyone hearing this transmission, this is Karjr Kale Onara answering the distress call of my vod. If anyone is receiving this, respond immediately."

The communication came blaring out of her communicator on her wrist that she had no clue was turned on to full blast. She froze as Kale Onara Kale Onara and the other immediately turned to see her.
 
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Power Core, Camp Phoenix
Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Kale Onara Kale Onara | Mae Tecono Mae Tecono

Tyrias slapped a hand down on a console after the doors finally sealed. The heavy breathing bellowed inside the enclosed helmet as she stood there. Her red eyes fell to the scrubber reading and how very red it was. Damn crime that. Why was 'red' bad to these Outsiders? Yes, she'd lived among them for quite some time, but a Chiss was a Chiss and everyone else wasn't. Red was quite lovely. Normally; not the artificial red most people bought in stores -- those dyes were atrocious to look at most of the time. Red as a whole, however, didn't deserve to be considered in a negative connotation. Though, no Chiss would besmirch someone for associating red with danger.

Her thoughts were ambling, however.

Gloved fingers slid over the cylinder to pull it free of its catch only to emerge empty handed. Eyelids slowly descended for a moment before Tyrias tried again. This time she managed to pull the container free.

With far less grace than normal, the Chiss woman practically collapsed on her feet to one side until her back was against the console now. It freed the other hand to disconnect the expended filter. With more care than seemed possible, the replacement was locked into place and soon the life support system began to replace the abundance of carbon dioxide with oxygen once more.

It was a welcome relief put off from the horde outside the sealed doors to the chamber she stood in. They'd been harassing her for hours now. Hadn't even been time to swap out canisters. Tyrias wouldn't complain, however; she managed to do what needed done, and returned alive.

Slowly she turned back around to face the console. After a few deep breaths her gloved fingers danced over the controls.

"To anyone hearing this transmission, this is Karjr Kale Onara answering the distress call of my vod. If anyone is receiving this, respond immediately."

Tsk. Answering the distress call. Exactly what Tyrias had been trying to prevent from happening; though she'd known the call had gone out before she could stop it. Comm relays throughout the base that hadn't been destroyed suddenly hissed to life. "This is Fleet Marshal Tyrias Aran. As you can tell, Internal communications have been restored. You were better off not landing on this planet, Karjr Kale Onara; but since you are here -- as I suspect there are others -- you may as well help exfiltrate any survivors. Be advised there are hostile lifeforms inside of the facility that carry a contagion resulting in violent aggression to all those around them. Anyone showing symptoms of infection should be shot before they turn against you."

Her fingers danced over the console again. "Another thing, you have one hour to complete your mission."

Throughout the facility, even as high as the surface level, intercoms suddenly blared, "Self Destruct Activated. All personnel are advised to evacuate immediately. Fifty-nine minutes and fifty-five seconds until detonation."

If they were successful in saving those still alive Tyrias would consider that a bonus. If they failed and she died, at least she'd minimize the number of carriers. It was the least she could do.
 

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