Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dark Zone | CIS Dominion of Melida/Daan (R,50)

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Allies: [member="Darth Metus"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Kurenai Yumi"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Nine Lives"]



Not only had he just witnessed some very amazing works of the force, but also some more high quality swordsman ship. Noatyr grinned, his weapon sliding back into it's sheath as he took a short little breather, leaning up against one wall.

They had been fighting non stop, and the infected just kept coming. Thankfully though, they now had a brief moment of calm, at least until the monsters outside found a way in and after them.

He took a moment to check over his wound, and reapplying a bandage to it, while his mind wandered. The blue haired woman, Yumi, the way she kept looking at him, in all honesty it was kind of ticking him off. It seemed like no matter what he did it wasn't enough to satisfy her, which furthered to annoy him. Nine wasn't even really giving him the time of day, but at least deWinter and Srina appreciated his efforts.

​''Ow, crap. The ship really did a number on me. When we get out of this city I'm going to make sure they fix every single one of my damned ribs.''

Wincing once again, and silently cursing himself for it, Noatyr's head turned as he heard the voice of deWinter calling for assistance with a Datapad. ​Although he was no tech wizard, and had no prior experience hacking into such devices, he had studied Datapads briefly and figured he stood a fair shot.

He removed himself from the wall and was about to hurry towards her when suddenly they were ambushed by...

​''About time.''​ He muttered gratefully. The Sith had finally arrived to extract them, and what a relief it was. One of the personal began to look him over, checking his bandages and tisking softly at his sloppy job.

​''Look, it's not like I've had a whole lot of time to get a better job done on this...''​ He muttered.

The approach of one particularly foreboding character made him look up from the one who was checking him over, and his dark eyes almost brightened up.

Darth Metus himself had come for them. Now this was a surprise.

A moment was shared between Metus and Srina, and Noatyr now understood why she seemed important. However, what he said next made the moment fade away in the blink of an eye, and Noatyr's face fell a bit.

​''Ahem, if I may my lord, The man Riggs, no longer walks these streets. He's dead. He was infected, and then deWinter had to put him down. My sincerest apologies...''
 
The Mother of All Psy-Pires
They were closing in. Nine had whittled many of them down. But the wretched filth still had fight left.

As they closed in on her they reminded her greatly of her super-strong T-Cells. So this was what it must have been like for the vong spores: Putting up a good fight but in the end being consumed by the defender...

She hated her vampirism more than ever. She would never think of her T-Cells again without associating them with these snarling corpse-faces, descending on her as the world went dim. Just before the tearing would start.

And then...a gust of power, a breeze to her, but it was no less powerful to her senses. Srina. Had to be her. Still going strong. Still not dead. The little snow-haired echani woman was precise. Nine had never had any ear for telekinesis. It simply did not occur naturally. It was one of her most glaring weaknesses, so glaring that back then before she'd gotten this evil garbage in her put into her system she had clandestinely resorted to stolen dathomiri magic spells and never looked back. But she sucked at the spells...every time she performed one of the momentarily useful parlor tricks she was so winded it was sometimes a half hour before she was focused enough to do another spell. Talon had bailed her out. She had been just about overwhelmed. She still shuddered at the though of any of this filth touching her. She was disoriented from exhaustion, and bleeding lavender blood from various scratches. No worries. She would just sleep that off. A good nights rest really did fix everything.

Nine rallied, forcing herself to cut through as many as possible while they were down, arms lead but moving through willpower. Her Katana felt heavy as it slashed tjrough rotten brain. She slashed at everything on the ground, killing the few remaining stragglers on the ground that had gotten up and charged. Only then did she drop from momentary exhaustion.

She only knew to wander the direction she had been ordered to go, knowing that behind all of them there lay only death and ash. Fear was, surprisingly, still quite the motivator for the Vampire. She wanted to survive because she could not, would not die as this filth, but also because she wanted to see a worse, much stronger filth get its due.

She sensed him before she saw him. A black cloud of power in the Dark Side. A somehow thunderous silence that somehow also roared in its deafening quiet.

[member="Darth Metus"]. Her boss. Technically the boss of all of them. That he would willingly walk into a vicious hellscape of crawling disease said much. It made her take a new regard of him as she drew closer towards the others.

He had gone in for one woman? Just one. If she had that kind of loyalty...she did not know what it was like anymore...

She was not so foolish as to think she could buy loyalty. But perhaps she could create loyalty. Create something loyal like Metus was to those he fought alongside.

As she stared at Metus, an idea began to form. He had actually inspired her, strangely...

And then, the hard part. Metus asked about Riggs. Before she could answer, the boy, the quick one with the improvised device from earlier, [member="Noatyr Moldmerr"] spoke up, mercifully denying her the chance to speak about Riggs death. She should have been faster...

She blinked and his blood shot, diseased eyes ran across the lids, nearly gone with pain. She was sick suddenly. The image would not go away, no matter how hard she tried.

She almost flinched as she heard the gunshot from [member="Scherezade deWinter"] going into his chest again. And again. As the boy delivered the news she watched Riggs hit the ground, stone dead. Again.

She was not sure if she should speak. What was she going to say, that she had blindly, foolishly tried to offer the man hope, but in reality trading one disease for another?

What could she possibly tell the Vice Lord.

Riggs dead body hitting the floor caused the tall, twitching vampire to drop her sword. She picked it up, spine getting an unpleasant jolt as she heard deWinter's bullet again.

At least it looked like they had gotten the research, and [member="Srina Talon"] had saved her life. Nine knew she owed her, and would find a way to pay her back.

And strangely enough she also owed the boy. They would have caught her early without his distraction.

She saw the fire growing larger. It had taken a block. It was getting hotter even here. But the screams of the dead marched ever on, inexorable.
 
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Objective: 1-Smoke, what else
Post: 7

As the fighting started to die down Kurenai's eyes briefly met with @Noatyr Moldmer, though a short time frame herself able to sense in the boy a clear dislike towards her, it was kind of weird. 'Did I do something wrong? the boy seemed more then eager to go on ahead without help, heck between him, that other woman and Srina I never had time to even draw my saber'. 'If his angary that I did not help in the fighting maybe he should have asked for help before running of'. Youngsters these day where so hard to read, change that youngsters where always hard to read.

After all she had been looking after Srina for most of the mission, still not fully understanding why the woman was sticking so close to her during the small trek. Even if the Echani was wounded they where still and Echani, the noble woman having far greater force powers then her own, so or Kurneai to constantly be within arms reach felt a little unnecessary, unless her presence meant something else, but that just raised even more questions. The two barely knew each other, which was quite a common issue amount most CIS members, so what ever feeling or effect Kurenai's presence had on Srina was lost.

Before she was able to pose the question the sound of ships echoed through the area, [member="Darth Metus"] himself leading a small search mission of some kind, better late then never,after what happened not long about with that time distortion thing and being blown up by a nuke Kurenai was more then eager to GTFO this infected and hell ridden city space. What seemed more surprising was the fact [member="Scherezade deWinter"] managed to recover the data pad that the original research team had taken into the city, seems that their choice to try and hind underground did not end well. The woman asking for assistance with the data pad and unlocking it, something she had reasonable experience with but at the same time had a hunch someone else here would be more suited to the task.

While the ginger haired boy and the tall Atrisian ([member="Nine Lives"]) woman broke the new about Riggs Kuernai walked up to the side of one of the drop shops, leading against its cold metal sides, rummaging around her combat fatigues, pulling out a cigar from a small side pocket. "Another day another lazy time, get dropped into a life or death situation, half people die and I stand around useless once more... now I remembered why I retired". Using a more psychokinetic spark she lit up the cigar, taking off her no longer needed re-breather and taking a long drag, ignoring the current commotion around the present members as the wounded where taken care of, and old friends reunited.
 

Karlie Lynn Destat

Conspiracy Theorist and Investigator (IBI)
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Objective: Playing 'Beat the Clock'
Gear and personnel: Me, Lance (my marine), and what used to be my team mate Janis..
Enviro suit: EVS-1
Post: 8





"Frak..." she cussed pulling her zombie along.
It wasn't working too well having it walk backward, as she were more struggling with it than making any headway. Zombies just weren't meant to walk backwards.

"Why don't you just guide her instead of dragging it?" Lance asked the obvious.

"Well Mr Jarhead..." Karlie stopped to rest a moment as dragging the cadaver despite its walking ability was quite difficult. And she couldn't pass that job over to her marine for he was against the whole insane idea of bringing it back to Castagne.
"...if it catches sight of dinner, it'll be one flipped out zombie." She replied, looking around as her zombie seemed to be somewhat fighting her, trying to walk away from her.

"Frak... we've got company Lance!" Karlie spotted a few eager town folk coming for their fresh flank rib steaks.

"I see them..." he said, raising his weapon and letting out two..three rounds. PEW PEW... PEW...
Down went the bodies with pieces of skull, hair and whatever flying out of them.

"Ewwgh....that's fraked up!...ja see the way their heads-... uhg..yuck!"

"Get your zombie turned around and guide it. We got to move!"

"Arrrg!...frak me!.." She grabbed hold of zombie Janis' forearm while maintaining her grip on its back bound hands and used her own body weight to spin it around.
"Come on jarhead...you too...out of the way....get out of her line of sight." She said, making sure her zombie buddy didn't get a shot of the marine.
Sure enough, zombie Janis was easier to push and guide along...and at a quicker pace. It was rather funny that the zombie was easily steered in that manor, not having the brains to figure out that it was a pretty looking cuisine (that be me, Karlie) from behind guiding it.

Zombie Janis, to Karlie's surprise, was getting the hang of walking....no, running somewhat pretty good.
"Heh... this is certainly easier...you were right, Jarhead-" As soon as she said that, her marine cut her off.

"Yea, looks like it spotted dinner up ahead. Slow her down Karlie...KARLIE!" Lance yelled before he too took hold of zombie Janis' reings..her bound hands, putting a brake on it running toward the group in front of them.

"Who the frak are they?..." Karlie peered from behind her zombie. " ...they seem...they're in enviro suits. Whew..they're alive!"

"Looks like your ticket home... they're CIS...suit, arms and all." Lance held his ground, planting his boots firmly as he held on to Karlie's zombie.
The reanimated corpse had quickened its pace as it had seemed to spot the team heading toward them. Now it was squirming to continue on to meet them. it was obvious that lance and Karlie were holding on to one of the living dead. Only that this was was sealed up in an enviro suit.

"Awesome... they can help me tie this thing in the hold or something.." Karlie was still thinking of getting her zombie home..back to Castagne's weapon's research lab. It wasn't so much as to turn this virus thing into a weapon, no. But in her lab, she could reverse engineer it...find out exactly how it was designed to work and just maybe come up with a counter agent of some kind.

"I don't know about that... but do me a favor Karlie...don't stand directly behind its head."

"What do you mean-...no freakin way...they can't shoot it! I need it intact."

"Well we'll soon find that out....and why are you still behind it?! I said; Don't stand directly behind it, Karlie!." he said making sure his weapon was pointed to the ground as the group approached them.

"Don't yell at-...Ohh..." She quickly saw his reasoning behind it.

"Castan research team.. We're Castan1.... CIS !..." Karlie's marine announced, as he held firm the squirming zombie who itself wanted to meet the team for dinner.








[member="Darth Metus"]
[member="Srina Talon"]
[member="Scherezade deWinter"]
...anyone else interested.
 
(OOC: outside the flow of the timeline of the thread so to continue story. We will join the evacuation separately, momentarily)

The two Kashi joined together in combat. The souls found the connection within as the forces of nature joined the song within. Adrenaline surged through him as he danced around the undead, the ferocity of their actions combined with the power of nature. The dance of his blades wove throughout those near, casting aside limbs with a tainted crimson shower. When those infected were pushed back from him he cast an appraising look to the [member="Darkhold"] , his ba'buir.

The emotions had shifted from rage to joy. As the fiery whip began it's assault Tobias reached beneath the ground in the force and felt the undercurrent of activity. Gripping the force the planet was birthing, the young man feed his own power and influence into it. Shards of stone pierced the ground, skewering those around the ring upon earthy spines of rock.

Sheathing his blades he summoned the stone spears that burst from his feet, and he began throwing them through torsos and heads as the undead began to thin. A single spear leaped to his hands as he planted one end upon the ground and watched the Elder Kashi finish the remaining undead.
 
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Location: Dark Zone - From Railway to Transport Ship
Wearing: This

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It wasn’t so much that Srina innately knew the way through the Dark Zone because of some overpowering intellect or additional information others hadn’t been privy to. No, not even close. These streets were deteriorated shambles of what they had once been. The holo-maps that she had gone over a dozen times didn’t really help when nothing looked like it should. What the pale Echani knew, more than anything, was what the Vicelord felt like on the other side of their Force Bond. She could not follow the now obsolete information she had been provided, but, even blind—she would be able to find [member="Darth Metus"]. She didn’t move instinctively toward an exit. She moved toward him.

“Not at all, Ms. Yumi.”, Srina responded to the dark-haired woman, not realizing, that her statement about ‘Midnight Exigent’ was likely rhetorical. It was the final solution. The disease had proven formidable. The whole of Melida/Daan would be at risk if they did nothing. Losing one city was better than losing them all. Better than losing an entire planet.

She remained near to [member="Kurenai Yumi"] for practical and personal reasons. One, because the seemingly young Trinitas Obsidian had told her to, two, because she had seen Kurenai fight before, and three, because she could recognize a warrior spirit. The brunette [member="Scherezade deWinter"] had come a long way from her days of rampant Vicelord stabbing, but a growing maturity and penchant for violence, did not automatically equate to skill. Srina had met Nine Lives briefly, however, she had yet to meet the ginger-haired bot previously. As much as she wished things were different there wasn’t the time to be anything but practical. This was a warzone. Not, a social hour.

The slender woman seemed a little dazed after using the Force to blow back the infected. As much as she tried to stand tall, to ignore what was happening, there was a haziness to her that seemed out of place. Her iron will was all that allowed her to push past her limits, to push through the pain, and keep going. Sheer stubbornness. Were she stronger she would have reached for [member="Noatyr Moldmerr"] to seal his injury but then she really would have been dead weight.

[member="Nine Lives"] was in one piece, mostly, and Srina was at least relieved to see that her attack had processed in time. Clearly exhausted, she still continued on, hacking away at any of the creatures that were left. Srina felt concern when she dropped, but realized, it was only to catch her breath. There was something different about [member="Nine Lives"] and [member="Kurenai Yumi"]. She couldn’t place it, not exactly, but she could even feel it in the Force. Different. The white-haired woman did not know how to put it to words.

Kurenai mentioned the telekinetic attack she had unleashed and the quiet woman gave pale, cheerless smile from behind her helmet. It might not be seen because of the shadows. “I’m sure you do Ms. Yumi. I can’t take full credit, however.”, she breathed, trying to hide the tiredness in her tone behind a guise of keeping her voice down to avoid drawing anymore of the infected. Not so long ago, the Sith Apprentice hadn’t had the finesse to move a dinner plate without breaking it, but times had changed. Mind-melding with the Vicelord on Tatooine had spoon-fed her training in such a way that it made everything difficult about the Force simplistic. It required the appropriate amount of emotion, logic, and execution.

Her dark-haired guardian asked if she was all right and it took a moment for Srina to respond. Words were getting harder to create and her head felt lighter and lighter. “As much as I can be. It shouldn’t be far—“

Speaking of the research station the aforementioned Scherezade had disappeared. Srina felt her eyebrow twitch. Why did the deWinter child always run off on her own? Her heart was in the right place, usually, but if she wasn’t careful it was likely to become lunch for the infected. Before she could try and search the Force for the youngest of them the presence of Darth Metus came hurtling forward. He was moving fast, blindingly so, with half of the Confederacy in tow it seemed. “Master…”, she greeted, extremely gladden to see him, but at the same time very dismayed.

Srina had warned him not to come here. He was the head of the Confederacy. He was more important than any of them. Why didn’t he listen? Her agitation with his actions immediately softened when he reached for her despite the distance created by their enviro-suits. His words echoed in her ears and her head tucked down a little as another wave of exhaustion swept through her. The pain medication was taking its toll. “You cannot protect me always.”

‘Thank you for trying.’

Then, he asked about @Riggs. Her stomach sank. If what she felt did not echo the truth to the Vicelord—the brave words from [member="Noatyr Moldmerr"] would. He was sweet. In her opinion, with a flair akin to Scherezade, but, both had their hearts in the right place. She remained silent for a long moment as the news sunk in and she reached for his arm, taking hold of it to steady him, despite the armor he would likely tack on. No matter what happened, no matter who died, they could not afford to linger or the sacrifice would mean nothing. If they didn’t get the data back to the Fortressa…All of this was for naught. “He speaks true. Riggs…He did not completely turn. He still had the presence of mind to make the choice and we could not deny a dying man trying to stand tall. It was honorable.”

Poor, sad, pitiful words.

The medical team flooded them and began to quickly triage the wounded. They could only do quick patch jobs because of the short timetable but it would be enough to stabilize anyone until they could be treated in proper bacta-tanks. Everyone would have been escorted out of the railway sooner than later so that the exfil could be completed. The data pads that [member="Scherezade deWinter"] had collected would likely be turned over to the scientists on the Fortressa that knew the access codes.

Srina remained close to Darth Metus, both waiting on the ramp of the starship for everyone to board, as well as waiting for other stragglers such as [member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]. They couldn't leave anyone behind. She shouldn’t be far, and, they had cleared a path. Her lips pressed thin. There wasn’t much time left. The sounds of multiple running feet caught her attention and her eyes turned in the appropriate direction. Life and death. “Six o’clock, Obsidian.”, she spoke to one of the Knights that had come down with Darth Metus. He pulled out his blaster and aimed appropriately. Her hand pressed to her side, her teeth ground together when she realized that the flaxen-haired woman had a pet zombie with her. “What are you doing with that? Shoot it in the head and get on the ship. We need to leave. Now.”

Why would she take one of the infected? The whole idea was to keep it contained. Not, to bring the virus off world.

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OOC:
Please be aware that [member="Darth Metus"] has called to have the Dark Zone defoliated to contain the virus. All characters should be making the ground escape shortly, and, if known to CIS return to the Fortressa for a full workup and the subsequent quarantine. [I mean the droids would be okay but do they really want to stay? XD]
[member="Erin Tenel"], [member="Darth Rixas"], [member="Darkhold"], [member="Tobias Dib"], [member="Hadashah Vi'dreya"], [member="Anastasia Vi'dreya"], [member="S.Y.N."], [member="Rhaegar Nemesis Dib"]​
 

Karlie Lynn Destat

Conspiracy Theorist and Investigator (IBI)
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Objective: Playing Devil's Advocate
Gear and personnel: Me, Lance (my marine),and what used to be my team mate Janis..
Enviro suit: EVS-1
Post: 9





"Whoa..whoa....chill out a minute....it's contained! " Karlie put out her free hand gesturing for Srina's armed escort to hold their fire.

"You too jarhead....stand down..." She then relayed her order to lance, her marine.

"Not going to be a showdown, Agent Lynn..." he had already laid hands off his weapon before Karlie spoke, leaving it dangling inits harness

"Yea..thanks corporal..." She uttered of his lack of support of her plight.

"Ok..now hold it...give me a minute here. I know what you people have gone through...I've managed to get some messages coming through the past block..." She tapped her comm, realizing the previous explosion had somewhat damaged it, at least it's range. Which explained why she had lost contact with her marine when he first opened fire on the encroaching zombies near the arena.

"This virus has gone pandemic and I understand the reason to flash the affected grounds (her version of nuclear defoliation), but all we-
..or you rather, are only going to achieve is evacuating the survivors and your wounded. You...we here have lost many of our own and to simply flash it isn't going to solve anything bit a momentary window of false security." She were talking fast, as it was apparent they were running out of time. No one wanted to waste a minute debating what was already been enacted. And karlie knew this and wasn't going to puts around.

"There's a high probability that this was engineered. Nothing of this nature occurs naturally and spontaneous. there would have been earlier signs of something of this nature mutating on its own.." She looked over to her crono a second.

"Fodder!..." Time seemed to suddenly take off like a missile.
"Look, this was my team mate...a fellow research scientist. Its an area of expertise that-" Ok, well it didn't do much for zombie Janis, her expertise.

" I need her...need her intact and need to risk it. I have her complete genome and physical records down to the cells! I need her to reverse engineer this pathogen...
Come on..please. I can take her to Castagne's weapons and research facility. If anyone has indeed engineered anything of this sort, it would be someone like me....." Oh, maybe that was a wrong thing to point out.

"Uhm...wait...
I mean...no, I didn't do this one. I'm just saying that-
.....shoot, Ok, I could engineer such a virus. But I didn't!
I mean....I won't...ever...no!." Oh boy, would they understand that she was currently under the gun persay and trying her best to speak as much as she could to present her point in the time allotted?

" Sigh...
I need this specimen so that I can unlock its secret.
This virus is currently in its peak stage within this specimen. It will not progress further. It's sole purpose is to consume fresh untainted blood and flesh, and in the process, as you experienced; it exponentially spreads.
To just evacuate and chalk up your comrades losses without a gain has made this whole operation fruitless...their deaths pointless, as we could once more meet the same threat elsewhere in our systems.
Do we then continue to retreat, pull back and flash every system this virus is deployed on?" Karlie pleaded her initial argument, hoping to at least have someone with foresight and authorization to consider her facts.

It was at the moment a seemingly lost case, for she knew no one here actually knew her qualifications on the matter. She was indeed an investigator...an agent for the Castan Internal Bureau of Investigation (IBI). But those titles meant little to anyone not tied into the Castan weapons research database as it certainly served the CIS, secretly. Bio-engineering wasn't something the CIS wanted to broadcast galactic wide.

Time was also not on Karlie's side and she was despairing as each word and second seemed to tick by at hyperspeed. maybe she was blurting out too much for anyone to fully comprehend...but what other choice did she have if she only had a minute to try and convince them to keep the head on her zombie intact?

"Please...if anything.. put us on a remote shuttle and suspend me and my specimen in a controlled orbit. Let me at least have a chance at presenting my case. With what you may have collected and with this base specimen...this threat could be neutralized...made null. Otherwise, we're still subject to the same scenarios in any of our other systems if this pathogen was engineered and deployed....please?" It were without a doubt she was quite convinced she were capable of unlocking something about this horrid and devastating pathogen. Karlie's only concern was that if this pathogen's secrets weren't unlocked, that Melida was just the tip of the iceberg. For the CIS to flash infected grounds and pull out of the system, it would indicate that whomever had engineered this pathogen would know it was a success. With that, then the CIS would have to expect more such attacks on their territories and systems.

"It's what I do best.... I'm a researcher... this is my field... bio-weapons..." Ok, not the best shoe forward, as no one liked to hear bio-weapons. But being one didn't mean developing bio-weapons for deployment. It also meant developing counter measures...reverse engineering such weapons, much like reverse engineering new hard tech.
The only difference was one was mechanical/electronic and hers was biological.

Her marine of course was as quiet as a temple mouse. He wasn't about to do anything that would cause a showdown, despite his role was to be backing Karlie up. His hands were way clear of his weapon. They were all allies here...on the same front. Karlie could be a bit forward at times, but he could not do anything to escalate what seemed already a volatile situation.






[member="Srina Talon"]
 
A growl slipped through the Elder’s lips as the dead approached. Tooth and talon tempted to pierce beskar. Even with the security of such a strong metal the Elder moved as if each strike could be fatal. With a simple twist of the hip angled most blows to reflect easier of the armor.

The fighting was to close for the whip and Garith had begun to use his off hand. With timing and pressure points he was able to keep some foes at bay. Defense was key in Garith’s strategy as he kept any serious damage from slipping through, also to keep the small horde from just all jumping on him at once and pulling him to the ground.

The battle was near an end, just a small handful of dead now rushing the Elder. He changed his defensive stance. He slammed his off hand to the temple of one of the five remaining undead. Through the tips of his fist a bolt of Force Lighting erupted.

The head popped like a melon as the energy surge through. The blot path changed, as it chained to the nearest of the undead. The bolt hit the head of the next infected causing another head to explode in bloody fashion. Three more times the bolt repeated this chaining from one undead to the next.

It was a shower of bloody gore but effective as the blot of lighting flew back towards Garith. The lighting struck Garith’s hand. The lighting rippled around his now clenching fist. There was some small scorching damage to the gauntlet. However the lighting flowed back into the elder as he absorbed the blot by use of the Force.

The skirmish seemed to be over and the elder turned to look at [member="Tobias Dib"]

“The evacuation has sounded we should seek our way to safety”, now Garith eye peered at the younger Kashi. Most certainly he was getting a better bearing on the situation. “The look in your eyes suggests we’ve met before. Yet I do not recall of this meeting ever take place yet. I’m sure the discussion will most certainly be interesting.”
 
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C O N C L U S I O N

The man Riggs, no longer walks these streets. He's dead. He was infected, and then the deWinter had to put him down. My sincerest apologies...

All sense of relief died within the Sith's chest.

His heart stopped. A cold raced through the whole of his body. He had...He had felt the loss of a sibling once before. Grappled with her demise and the terrifying guilt that followed. But...This was different. This...He could not explain. He could not justify. He could not think. He. Riggs. His son. His flesh and blood. To die here, in the middle of nowhere in a plague infested hovel? Darth Metus took a step back, his expression admittedly wild. A cacophany of disbelief and agony worked its way across his face.

The young man had driven a nail into the Sith's chest. The confirmations which came right after - the words of [member="Srina Talon"] saying that he died on his feet...they only served to drive it deeper still.

He couldn't not think of Rigard - his elder sibling - and how he had died so many years ago. He couldn't not think of the Rakghoul Hive that consumed the warrior before Darth Metus' very eyes. He couldn't not think of the fact...that Riggs was named in honor of his deceased sibling. But now...it seemed as though that name was a curse. A curse to die, alone, by an infected wretch. A curse to lose one's body and mind and to perish prematurely.

The Sith looked to his Apprentice, and in her found the strength to push through these next few minutes. There would be time aplenty to mourn. To grieve. To return to this world and to collect what little remained. But right now...they had to move.

"Thank you...for granting him a good death."

In the moments that followed, the sound of engines filled the air. Their escape from the judgment of Midnight Exigent had arrived. One by one, the Confederate personnel made their exodus from the nightmare - but something caused the Echani to stiffen. She reached for the waist of one of the adjacent Knights and pointed his blaster in the direction...of an Infected. But what stood between the beast and a well-deserved end was a woman. She pleaded her case, that she was a researcher and wanted to unlock the secrets of the Plague.

She said it was engineered, potentially. She wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Everything in Darth Metus wanted Srina to pull the trigger, but he raised his hand. If there was a single, one percent chance that the plague was maliciously engineered...then there was the blood of his son on their hands. They needed to be found. They needed to Die.

"Take a separate ship. We will quarantine you appropriately. If you fail and jeopardize your world...we will defoliate the few to save the many. Understand? Now go. Now."

With the thunder of his voice sounding with finality, the Sith boarded his own dropship.

Once the engines had spun up and the personnel were secured, the last vestiges of the Confederacy's presence within the surface cleared away. Their trajectory took them skyward - up to the Fortressa to await Quarantine. In the meantime, once confirmation had been sounded over the comms, a flight of droid fighters made a pass over the city. The ordnance was dropped.

Fire swept through the Capital.

All organic material was burned away.

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[member="Srina Talon"], [member="Darkhold"], [member="Tobias Dib"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Karlie Lynn Destat"], [member="Kurenai Yumi"], [member="Nine Lives"], [member="Noatyr Moldmerr"]
 
The Mother of All Psy-Pires
Nine felt her stomach wretch, even though it had shriveled long ago. This pain of Metus was familiar. Too familiar.

Her father too had lost his sons. He'd lost all of them to battle. She'd been his only living child in the end. He didn't have the same reaction Lord Metus did. Shimada Li-Ves had been a notoriously hard and stern in youth and was never prone to outward displays of emotion. But she knew how that pain had slowly whittled him down, little by little which each dead son, each dead successor to The House of The Five Rings, breaking through that hard harshness until the end the one child even a man like Shimada had loved too much to place in danger had had no choice but to place herself in danger. In the end he had not been so harsh.

She hadn't just failed to save some friend of the Vice Lord...she'd failed to help his son.

Riggs body hitting the ground in her mind made her flinch subtly, caused an agitation that crept under her skin like a spider, felt a cold sweat start under her robes.

Can't save the Vice Lord's son, can't do any good for this planet, can't cure this wretched filth in her own blood. Today had just been a series of can'ts. Of 'almosts'.

She hoped Midnight Exigent killed every trace of the mindless evil that had decimated the city. Every trace of the city that left her with a whole new slew of nightmares about her own body. Would she go that ravenous someday? Ravenous like those corpses? Would there ever come a day where she'd have to be put down like that. Did she need to be put down like that now? She felt the stirrings of an anxiety attack as she retreated from the others, waiting to be placed aboard the Fortressa.

Five minutes. That was all I needed. Five lousy minutes. Kark those beasts.

Struggling to control her anxiety she took deep breaths, the sound of deWinter's bullet racing up her vertebrate as she retreated to a dark part of the vessel where she would have time to calm down, and stop seeing Riggs infected eyes every time she closed her own. She felt the tremor in the Force as bombs were dropped, engulfing the city in in a fleeting moment of heat and pain. She grew sick, hoped there had not been too many stuck in there. She wanted to vomit but there hadn't been anything to vomit with for years now. So that unpleasant sickness stayed the whole ride.

(Exit post)
 
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Location: The Landing Zone




It was over, at least for now. They were finally going to escape that wretched city, and... if things went well, discover whatever sick freaks were responsible for it all. Still, [member="Darth Metus"] looked devastated, the news looked like it had broken him.

It was almost like him after...after he lost his own family. That's when [member="Nine Lives"] dropped her head and stumbled away. She looked like she was about to throw up. Noatyr could only imagine what must have been on her own mind, and he reached a hand out after her as she retreated, but she was already gone.

''This really did hit hard.'' His thoughts told him. He felt the sting of tears for a moment, and he lowered his hand back to his side.

[member="Srina Talon"] had pointed out the one who had been bringing along one of the infected, and Noatyr's hand had instantly gone for the hilt of his weapon, but it was made clear it was no threat, at least not at the moment.

''Bioweaponry...researcher...she could just as easily been one of the ones who made the damn virus...not my call though...'' He muttered to himself. He turned away from the small commotion, and raked his gaze around the landing zone.

[member="Kurenai Yumi"] wasn't anywhere to be seen, and he assumed she had already headed into the ship. Shaking off one of the nosy droids that had been tending to his wound, Noatyr made his way up the ramp and into the ship, his eyes darkened, and already searching for any signs of the blue haired woman.

It wasn't hard to find her, and when he did, he approached her casually, and leaned against the wall next to her, wincing only slightly as his side burned for a moment. He was silent for a minute or two, before finally speaking.

''Just another day huh?'' he didn't turn his head to look at her, but the question was directed at her. ''You seem to be holding up better then the others.''

He didn't seem angry anymore, but with him it was really hard to tell, even Noatyr himself wasn't sure if he was mad or not, but he had bothered to drag himself over to the blue haired woman, something he wouldn't have done if he had been annoyed at her for whatever reason.

He figured it was best to smile in this situation, so his lips slowly cracked into a small one. Not an award winning smile by any means, but it was the only smile he'd cracked in months.
 

Karlie Lynn Destat

Conspiracy Theorist and Investigator (IBI)
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Objective: Getting the frak out of the graveyard.
Gear and personnel: Me, and zombie Janis...don't know about the marine now.
Enviro suit: EVS-1
Post: 10






For a moment there, she thought her face shield was going to have a horrid taint of red and some brain matter on it.

But to Karlie's initial relief, the Viceroy whom had somehow personally spearheaded his own failed mission, conceded. And to boot, allow her and zombie Janis their own ship.
But what immediately followed aside from threatening her own world, was the spike she felt..a sear of irritable pain, like a instant migrane. The Vicelor's tone had pierced a few midi'. Had he used force suggestion?..he had too, for it felt so. Only she didn't react to it as it may have meant, for such force incursions on her the way it were delivered were more like pins and needles. Karlie's midi count was way off the chart....on the low end of the chart.

What surviving midi in her system were those that lingered and came by way of breathing, ingestion. But they didn't survive long enough to gestate to the levels she had before she were eradicated of them...by choice.
As thus, little to no effect such matters as force suggestions or internal effects a force user had on her. Sure, she could be pushed, as the air around her were infested with midi. But as far as her own being, internally..just pins and needles like. And to her dismay, despite the Vicelord' consensus of her plight, it nevertheless left an impression on her.

She simply nodded her understanding, not uttering a word as he turned and continued to orchestrate the retreat. Karlie looked over to her marine, who to her surprise was still standing there holding tight his hand on zombie Janis.
"Thanks for your support...jarhead..." She wasn't going to let him off so easy on not backing her up like she had expected. Ok, so maybe his tactic of not drawing his own weapon on them had been the right course of action...but still, wasn't he under her command?
"..we'll discuss protocols later.."

"Yes, mam..." he replied to her.
"Now about that transport?" he then asked one of the remaining CIS personeel, as it appeared Karlie was somehow transfixed at the retreating Vicelord and his entourage for the moment.

"Huh?..." She too then turned to the CIS personnel her marine had asked.

Seemed there were a few spare shuttles, as there were less CIS troops and personnel leaving than they had come with also. karlie herself had dropped down with 40 marines, 2 pilots and 3 fellow researchers which included zombie Janis before she...uhm, went native.

"Coming...coming....this puppet isn't exactly a trained show pony..." Karlie and her marine were finding it difficult to easily guide it as zombie Janis was more interested in trying to eat the CIS personnel that was taking them to their spare shuttle.

"I'm trying my best you know..." time was still ticking rather fast and the CIS personel was getting quite anxious in getting the frak off this system too.

"...maybe if you just take the lead...get right in front of this bucking zombie then-" Karlie was saying, before the CIS personnel did just that. And as soon as zombie Janis saw her meal right in from of her, AWAY they went at a good pace.
in no time at all with zombie Janis chasing her meal, they got to the shuttle...or what looked like a shuttle.
It was a derelict..a piece of junk, in Karlie's eyes.
"Does this thing even fly?!"

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Of course it did, as it had come down with the party. But there was no time to argue about it. it was take it or fry.
"Fine!... what choice do I have.." She said as the CIS personnel started to book. Most likely to a designated transport.
"Thank you!" Karlie's marine shouted back. He for the most part, was indeed thankful that they had a working shuttle...or so he hoped.

Sure enough as her marine secured a rather squirming zombie to the cargo portion of the shuttle, Karlie had fired up its engines and was lifting off. It was a rather shaky ascension through the stratosphere and took a bit of time to finally reach high orbit. In the meantime as they had ascended, they spotted a few drones descending ..going past them planet side. They had just made the deadline.
The shuttle's angle and trajectory stared them bearing witness to the hell-fires below.

- - - - -

'CIS command to shuttle RS-3... Agent Karlie Lynn Destat, come in..' A message was coming through the main fleet orbiting Malida.

"Wow...thank the gods, this thing has working comm." She said as she herself stabilized a good high orbit.

"Yes..this is Agent Lynn...we're up in orbit level 5." She replied.

What she then received were instructions to head to near open space. She were to then jettison the shuttle's fuel pods and would be under quarantine awaiting further instructions.

"I'm to what?!.. Hell no!..who is this?!..." Karlie replied.

What she got back in response was a tone over her nav comp. It was a fighter that had locked its missiles on their shuttle.

"Ok..Ok...I get it...you guys are serious... sheesh.
Give this rust bucket a minute....getting it over to said coordinates...take it easy...." She replied, realizing why they had been given an older drop ship. It had nothing near sub-lights engines, much less a hyper-drive system. She had been outsmarted.

"Fuel pods, please.." The fighter pilot asked nicely, once she reached open space.

"Sigh...jettisoning fuel pods..." Karlie reluctantly complied.

"Now what?" she asked.

Silence.

"Hello?...what do I do now? Flyboy, you still there?...Hello?"

Again, silence...except for the targeting tone still on them, and Karlie drumming her fingers impatiently on the console waiting for some kind of freakin answer.

"Take it easy, Karlie. They're figuring it out. Give them time to come up with something viable." Lance, her marine said.

"Yea..how to blast us from space and cover it up.."

"Maybe..."

"Huh?..what? Gasp! I was only kidding! They won't, can't do that?...would they?" A rather ghost white faced Karlie replied her marine, Lance.

But before he could reply, the tone signal from the fighter suddenly dropped out.
"Your credentials check out. Please message Castagne's Cabinet and make arrangements for them to send over a mobile containment vessel. All research on your subject and the virus must be conducted in this system...."
And so the instructions and what concessions for her and her zombie were made for them to do their research.

Naturally Karlie argued the fact that they were setting her up for failure. What kind of research can she do in a rust bucket out in space? She needed a full facility.
But that was not the CIS problem at this time. She were given the opportunity to do as she had originally requested, minus the fact that she could no longer transport the creature back to Castagne. Her research id she decided to go ahead with it, had to remain in this system. Castagne would have to bring the facilities for her research over to her. This was not negotiable.
Then she were given a choice. Get her and her marine picked up, quarantined like the rest, and have the shuttle with creature incinerated...or comply with said compromise.

"Comply...." She said, slumping back on the pilot chair.

"And yes...sigh....I'll make the arrangements with Castan Cabinetry..." One didn't need to see her to know her eyes made a circle.
 
As the Elder Kashi health the final blow with an impressive feat of the force, Tobias removed his helmet and hooked it to the kama at his waist. Gripping the earthen spear he turned curious eyes to the headless corpses once more tasting death. The power that [member="Darkhold"] absorbed back into himself was palpable in the air, the small hairs along the nape of his neck standing at the electrical charge.

A smirk crossed his face at the Elder's words. Nodding toward a clear street that would lead to the perimeter set up around the city, he broke out in a light jog. Smoothly he trotted, no sound escaping from his passage. He had learned that noise could end in your death, and had been instructed by more then just one in the ways of stealth. His scabbards had light fabric wrapped around them, his kama, belt, and kal tightened so they wouldn't rattle in movement. Even the armor was coated with matte paint and a layer of reflec. He had learned the lessons the hard way from his masters.

Still smirking he turned his head to look upon the other man. What he said was true, there had been recognition in his eyes.

"For a being who is millennia old, it's not hard to imagine you wouldn't remember ever chance encounter you have had. We met many, many years ago. I was just a baby at our first encounter. Though to be fair, this hasn't happened yet for you."

The smirk grew into a grin as he lightly leaped over several corpses who lay in the throes of their second death. Pausing at an intersection he turned to look upon the towering Kashi. His words would have given the other man something to chew on. But he was not a man for games, this Tobias knew well.

"How many Kashi have you met in the past century? How many know you and your many names? How many do you know with eyes like mine?"

The young man looked at the Elder. Slowly the pupils began to glow an iridescent blue, as if they were gleaming from an internal azure flame. But even as they raged with a light from within they slowly changed, darkening until they were an obsidian . They were a union of his parents, Muad Dib and [member="Arabella Darkhold"] . Grinning he began the jog once more.
 
The two Kashi began their jog through the embattled city. Quiet movement in beskar plate was not an option as the metal boots made quite the noise as the dodged debris on the street. However they were not offered the time to take a slower trek through the war zone. The end game of this scenario was the city becoming glass.

The young Kashi spoke speaking of familiarity. Speaking of thing very few would know. It was true his eyes were very familiar.

“After a millennia it is hard not to see the same faces over and over again. It become a blur of confusion as you become dissociated with you ability to feel common sympathy. You become divorced with the idea of being close to anyone. That is until one moment in time just one situation could open yourself to feel for another.”

The Elder and the grandson were coming closer to the drop zone. They had a little bit of luck so far. How long would that luck hold out?



[member="Tobias Dib"]
 
As the two moved side by side through the infected city, the Elder Kashi spoke of moments in time. He felt a smile cross his lips at the familiarity of this. The [member="Darkhold"] was ever the enigma, almost a symbol of stoic mystery. He held himself aloof for so long, and yet in this time as well as his own, he had experienced that moment that had altered him. The Elder Kashi was no longer alone. He had family, blood. The soul of the Kashi people were not dead, they yet lived.

Slowing as they began nearing the edge of the city Tobias looked to the larger man. Yes, he was known by many names, but the young man knew him most by a single term. Ba'buir. A slight shake of his head as he wished his twin had joined him on this venture. But the past was in flux and now the brothers weren't sure exactly where their family was. So they were looking. And here on the virus riddled world Tobias had found one of them. Not mother aor father, but the grandfather.

"One moment in time, like a reunion of a grandson with his grandfather, or the first meeting of a grandfather with a grandson."

His chuckle died in his throat as the wall that surrounded the perimeter came fully into view. The soldiers that lined the wall held their rifles at the ready as they looked down upon the horde of undead. At the sound of the Elder Kashi and his ancient beskar'gam, they turned to look upon them.

It seemed that their luck had run out.

Twirling the stone spear in his hands he stepped forward, eyes flickering over the landscape noticing several ideal offensive and defensive points. But there's was not the most opportune time. Summoning the force he infused the spear as he raised it above his right shoulder and took three steps before launching the spear at the shambling undead. The spear flew unerringly until mere meters away from the line of the infected horde the spear exploded, sending shattered stones into the front line, shards of stone tearing through body and bone, piercing the undead and dropping many with stone lodged within their brains.

Turning he motioned to a catwalk along a high rise building which towered above the city, and even the wall.

"We can leap from the roof. With the force we should clear the wall ... Unless you are too old? I could always assist you if you are feeling too feeble ..."

Letting out a light laugh he leapt up and gripped the rungs of the catwalk and pulled himself up as several hundred of the infected closed on their position.
 
A smirk rose from the lips of the Elder upon hearing the comment of grandfather and grandson. However unlikely it seemed to be untrue there was some truth to it.



Coming to view of the perimeter a simple trek to safety was out of the picture. There was too many to fit in the small amount of time they had. Other options were presenting themselves however.


The Elder looked to the catwalk and then to the roof, while the younger made his snarky comments. Folding time and space was an option. The Elder could just port himself to safety. That would leave MR. Snarky all by himself. The Elder could have done that back where he first met the younger Kashi. The Elder was obviously playing this through to gain more information.



The Dark Kashi’s feet left the ground and he soared through the air. With a loud metal clank his boots touched down, “You coming or what”, the Elder yelled back to [member="Tobias Dib"] .
 
He climbed the metal rungs of the catwalk, rust stains left upon his gauntlets in the wake of his passing. Pausing he glanced down to look for the Elder Kashi, but only saw the horde with arms outstretched above them where he climbed. Before the feeling of dread could grip him he heard the clang of armored boots above him. Head raised and he watched the [member="Darkhold"] above give his own remark.

"Yes sir."

His lips stretching into a grin he sped his climb up the rungs at each level. The situation was dangerous and life was threatened in every moment. But in the instance he felt it, the camaraderie of souls and blood echoed between the two. Pausing at the bottom level below his ba'buir he looked up still smirking.

"I don't think I've properly introduced myself. My name is Tobias Adreian Dib. My middle name is a play on my grandfather's name, Adreia."

His hand was on the ring and he began to climb, yet a sound drew his eyes to the sliding glass door. Movement and then the glass shattered as four bodies slammed into him, crushing him against the railing of the catwalk which groaned loudly at the extra weight.

Above him, upon the roof, the door which accessed the roof burst open as a crowd of infected trampled across the rooftop straight for the Elder Kashi. Indeed, their luck had seemed to run out.
 

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