Dead Hulks

[Thew Vullen]

The beasts swarmed. That was the only way to describe it. Hundreds of rakghouls came through hallways, air ducts, and every other conceivable space. My only thought was, oddly enough, How many men were on this ship? The hordes were unending and eventually we would either run out of bullets or we would be outnumbered. We needed to even the odds.

"We need to open the ship up to the void!" I yell over the chaotic and brutal battle. "We need to even the odds." As I speak I see a nearby depressurization hall. If we could get our men out on the hull of the ship and create a crossfire on the entrance... My mind races with possibilities. Are rakghouls immune to the bite of space? Will the men be able to stay safely on the hull?

"If anyone can read me we need to get people out on the hull! Even the odds, kill some rakghouls maybe. I don't know, just get them out from these close quarters combat! We need the upper hand!" I try and yell again. The rakghouls may have the numbers, but no other real advantages. I see the Imperator in his mech suit and other high ranking Imperium members and push towards them.

 

[Skrekkor]

Skrekkor was tired, Skrekkor needed a bed. He laid upon a pile of corpses, almost stacked neatly in a pattern from where the fell, though the Barabel knew this could be the end for him. His chest was torn open, guts nigh spilling out, the bone in his right arm was showing, and his right leg has been torn the the nerve. Various cuts laid upon his neck from their attacks. This wasn't the first time Skrekkor had been in a fight like this, but it most certainly was the first time he'd been stuck in a room full of rotting corpses, the stench so foul it could make milk curdle. Skrekkor knew he was surely infected.

He'd sat himself atop a corpse, slowly stroking his torn flesh. He'd grit his teeth, snarling each time he went over it, knowing that touching his open nerves would surely cause infection, but curiosity and the thought of known death wouldn't keep him from knowing what had happened fully. His blade blunted, his gun out of fuel, he'd know the only way to get out of this was to crawl to the door, then crawl to his allies. He'd tumble over the pile, slowly making his way towards the door, he neck spewing out blood over the pile of corpses, his claws sinking into the skulls as he coughed out.

[member="Laman Ress"] [member="Alexander Ontonas"]

 

[Placeholder 0133]

The greatest of bonds were forged in the fires of battle.

[member="Skrekkor"] was a guttural creature, but a loyal one. One that Alexander might have even called a friend, in one odd way or another. When he came upon the wounded Barabel, his blood ran cold.

The Imperator knew with immediate certainty that Skrekkor's chances of survival were low. He understood that, given the warrior's wounds, Skrekkor likely carried the Rakghoul plague within him. If the morbid internal damage did not kill him, then the pathogen flowing through his veins with each pump of his wounded heart certainly would.

But then Alexander's heart won over his mind as it so often did.

"Hold still brother," he echoed over the cacophony of battle, his voice wavering with worry. He wept for his loyal warriors when the battles came to an end. When his truest comrades, men whom he called brother found themselves leaving the mortal coil, achieving that quiet distance was impossible.

Securing the ship became a secondary objective. Preserving life of his comrade became the primary.

With hands far too gentle for the mass of steel that sheathed them, Alexander reached down to scoop up the Barabel. It was unwise to move a wounded warrior, but leaving him here would assure certain death.

"Hold still. There is a medical bay on the ship. We'll fight our way there," he assured, cradling Skrekkor's wounded form close to his chest, his sword held in the other. "This will not be your end brother."

The words might have been in vain, but Alex truly believed he might be able to save Skrekkor. He turned toward his allies.

"A sound plan Thew. If we vent the ship, the Rakghouls should die." He paused, "I must find the medical bay! Laman, Vorian, we need to cut a path!"

Rather than wait for a reply, Alexander turned to storm down the narrow corridor. He roared in defiance as the Rakghouls charged him, and his blade sung a death song as it carved through flesh and shattered bone. The monsters' vitae and viscera covered painted Alexander's helmet and chest piece crimson.

He thundered down the halls in a mad search for the medical bay, Skrekkor cradled to his chest like a precious child as he brought the fury of Corellia's Nine Hells down upon the beasts.

[member="Thew Vullen"], [member="Vorian Adasca"], [member="Laman Ress"]

 

[Skrekkor]

The Barabel found himself tired, moreso than he had even after his large fight. Sure, there could be some Rakghouls he may not have finished off, but it was a happy drowsiness. His frame seemed almost small compared to the warrior that had scooped him up, though Skrekkor normally stood the same length at his side. A curious thing, he thought to himself, almost dozing off with each step Alexander took. He looked up to the man, normally he was doing the carrying, either the corpses of those he had slain for a bounty, or to drag back lost loved ones out of dens to their families.

Indeed, the Barabel had many a warm night on his home planet. A sun that nearly blotted out the sky during the day, and cool evenings during the night, but now, a coldness crept over him. Skrekkor knew he may not survive much longer, but the off chance that he could would keep the red lizard alive a little longer. With Alexander holding him, and with knowledge that he probably would not survive, Skrekkor let go of his death grip his sword he held so dearly, holding it more softly now. Then softer, and softer until it fell to the floor. He was a strong man, but the battle was finally taking its toll, his adrenaline was running out on him.

Skrekkors eyes closed, and thoughts of the past danced through his mind in a haze dream, thoughts of his father beating him for not catching anything after a night of hunting, thoughts of him boarding the first ship he could afford off his home planet. Thoughts of joining the alliance. Thoughts of new friends. Thoughts of what could be, what should've been, and what are. He'd slowly come to accept what had happened to him, and the life he lived, dancing his dangerous life, his highest bounty captured, the thrill of his first hunt. They were all things that Skrekkor could lose in an instant, but he was happy. A faint smile appeared on his face as he spit out a large sum of slimey green liquid, opening his eyes once more, squinting at the sight of the man carrying him. If he wasn't so mortally wounded, he'd drag himself to the medbay, but he knew that this was his only chance.

 

[Thew Vullen]

I am shocked at the state the Barabel is in. With so much damage to him and yet he's still awake. He is a fearsome warrior and I can only hope that he survives.

Snapping out of the trance I was in I look around. Guns are blazing, dead rakghouls, ah! A blast door that leads to the hull. But the door is covered with rakghouls streaming down from the ceiling. I feel dread flow through my body. If we can fight over there we'd lose many men. But if we don't then we may lose more. I hate these tough calls commanders make. But I have to push through this feeling.

"Does anyone have any rockets? Or a link to the ship?" I'm a little annoyed, the rakghouls are making this tougher than it should be. "No? Well we' will do this the hard way."

I lead my squad of troops to the outer edge of the line that holds the rakghouls. I say to a man who looks to be in charge, "We need cover fire to that door!" I point to the blast door that's about a hundred feet away. He nods and I charge through the gap his men have made in the rakghoul swarm with my men behind me. I draw my vibroswords and as I do I wonder if I can be infected by the rakghoul virus.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Vorian blinked, a uneasy silence settling over the ship and the shattered carcasses of dead rakghouls. It was said that upon many planets, miners would keep pet birds who could sense when collapses were imminent and alert their owners with chirping. At the moment, Vorian himself felt similar to a feathered creature, a chill traveling down the arc of his spine. This was not over.

At the very next moment, the ship exploded into a scene of chaos and madness. Rakghouls, as if on a cue, burst out of air vents, trampled over the corpses of their fallen brethren and leap forward, holding nothing but contempt for their monstrous lives and desiring nothing but fresh flesh between their sharp canines. The report of slug and blaster fire filled the room, flashes -- hisses and roars of both the human and inhuman -- climaxing in a orgy of violence. Overwhelmed by the stink and gore, Vorian could do nothing but feebly swat away any of the creature who attempted to assail him. Before long, the scaled creature fell wounded and the man in the hulking armor bellowed something about a 'med-bay' before charging boldly into the thickest of the fighting.

Murmuring a section of the Jedi code under his breath, Vorian followed him, slicing down any creatures clever enough to attempt to flank the men. If they came to any bulkheads, Vorian spared them the effort of using explosives by simply slicing a hole in them and force pushing the metal away -- usually into a rakghoul who was waiting in ambush behind the bulkhead. "The med-bay should be close." He gasped out. "I remember passing it."

 

[Laman Ress]

Laman was eviscerating a rakghoul when the lizard man crawled his way out of the hallway missing an arm and bleeding intensely. Laman did not believe the lizard man would survive this, and if he did he would most certainly turn, but Alexander was his superior so he was required to oblige. Luckily they had technician with them who could slice into the system.

"Technician Bradbury, slice into the computer systems and find a floorplan, we must know where the medbay is." Laman said to the technician

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"Yes sir" Bradbury Replied.
It took a bit of shooting through the hordes but they were able to find a sliceable terminal.

Hacking into the system, she dug for any sort of floorplans or a map. It took longer than it should have, and while she was doing this two of the men got mauled, but she was able to find the map of the ship.

"I am done sir, uploading the map to your huds." She said.

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"Good" Laman Replied. "According to this map the medbay is not far, but it is a bit farther after that to the cargo bay, according to this the medbay was sealed from the inside."

"Sensors in there show that there are lifesigns, dont look like rakghouls either." Bradbury continued

"If there is any hope of survivors we must take this seriously, what is our move Grand Marshall" Laman said.

[member="Thew Vullen"]
[member="Alexander Ontonas"]
[member="Vorian Adasca"]

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Worldbreak sang as it gorged itself on the Rakghouls' flesh. No beast came within arm's reach of Alexander's precious cargo. With each swing of the blade, hordes of the monstrosities were felled, their bones snapping like twigs and their flesh ripping like paper. Some managed to crawl along Alexander's back and claw at the steel, only to have themselves crushed against on of the nearby walls.

So great was his fury, Alexander almost didn't notice the Jedi. "As you say," he snapped, turning in the direction Vorian had indicated. The hall was long, and the monsters only seemed to grow larger the further they delved into the infested ship. It did not take long for Alexander to tire; the larger beasts saw that momentary weakness.

Two of the larger brutes charged him from the front. Alex turned his shoulder to them so that [member="Skrekkor"] would go unharmed. The impact was jarring. Alex spat a bloody curse as something in his shoulder popped out of place.

He followed it with a hard charge. His pauldron pinned one of the greater Rakghouls to the wall, and the force of the blow shattered its spine. The second found its skull crushed into a puply mess by Alexander's boot.

Then came a break in the madness.

"Laman," Alexander drew in a deep breath; the battle fury cooled somewhat. "Take Vullen and his men. Get to the bridge, and vent the ship. Sorcerer," his glowing gaze fell upon Vorian. "Show me to the medbay. Skrekkor will not die here, and if there are survivors, it is paramount we give them assistance."

[member="Laman Ress"], [member="Vorian Adasca"], [member="Thew Vullen"], [member="Skrekkor"]

 

[Skrekkor]

Skrekkors dream would continue, back to his first kill. It was a dark night, storming on an old planet, which he could not recall. Nor was it important during his dream. The Barabel had his old, tattered hood up as he stalked the back alleys, looking for any traces of the man he was hunting. Then, out of the corner of his eye, a sign. A man walking down a dark alley as the rain continues to fall, and the Barabel would fall in line with him, down the back streets of the dark gloom. Onward and onward, until he had the man right where he wanted him. Down the back alley, waiting for his supplier.

"Do you have it?" the man would ask. He'd be greeted soon after with a blast to the chest as the lizard pulled out an old fashioned shotgun, the only thing he could afford in his youth. A large barrage of cold lead would stain the mans chest, leaving him gasping for air as the Barabel pulled his knife to the mans throat, carving into his throat, until his head was severed. A large sum was about to make its way into Skrekkors pocket.

The fever dream would continue as he snarled and jolted in his state, grunting in his out of mind state.

 

[Thew Vullen]

The rakghouls swarm over each other in their attempt to feed on the brave soldiers who are risking their lives for their fellow men. I swing my swords through rakghouls, one after another, not bothering for precision but only death. I haven't made it twenty feet towards the door when one of the rakghouls breaks through my line. It tears through a man but is shot by another. I hear the cries of the fallen man and I shut the noise out in an attempt to stay strong.

"Fall back! We're not going to make it. Not to this door." I take slow steps back, protecting the men behind me. A soldier runs up behind me.

"Sir! New orders. The Imperator is making a push towards the bridge and med bay. He wants you and Warmaster Laman to lead the push. He believes you can vent the ship from there." I step back behind the safety of the forward line.

"Tell them I'm on my way." I run towards the hall leading towards the bridge where I last saw Laman and the wounded Barabel. How many rakghouls will we have to kill to make it to the bridge? If we are facing so many rakghouls in this area it will either be much worse, or much better on the bridge.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Vorian paused for a moment, inhaling the recycled oxygen that the breathing mask had graciously granted to him. "I will see to it your.. man does not perish, upon this day." He expanded his senses outwards, the tendrils of the force reaching through hallways and around corners. He could sense beasts, legions of them still, lurking in the shadows. Vorian knew that it was irrelevant how skilled one was, all it took for a single one of the creatures to get a wound upon you, and then as sure as night turning to day, you would join their ranks. The Jedi Knight went silent in contemplation, then twirled his emerald green lightsaber, it's delicately humming light casting a forboding illumination over his Arkanian features. Vorian knew that the medbay was directly across from them, but the layout of the vessel put several crew rooms and a cafeteria between them, forcing a person to use the designated hallways to reach it in a rectangular movement pattern. Normally.

"There are too many lurking in the halls. So, we take the scenic route." With a flash, Vorian sliced through a wall, storming through overturned bunks and more than one corpse who, perhaps wisely, decided it was better to take their own life than join the rakghoul hordes. Vorian tore through another wall and another and another. Soon enough, the gang found themselves in the medbay, in a state of total disarray from the initial confusion of the infection and those who seeked medical aid. Vorian force pushed debris to the hole in the wall he made with his lightsaber to barricade it.

"Hopefully this place has what we need."