Private Disastrous Negotiations

[Adalee Thorne]

All the money in the world couldn't save her now.

Stuck.

Adalee was stuck. Stuck doing someone else's job, to be sent to the ends of the galaxy with a group of scientist that she funded.

Ridiculous... She thought.

Wealthy or not, there was no one else that could safely give them passage. Plus, appearances like this only meant more influence once she needed something from the Throne Scientific School of Research and Discovery. They were so far from Lorrd, they named the extra-galactic planet "S." It was a common pseudonym for undiscovered planets. Although, the most curious thing was why they were here to begin with. Admittedly, Adalee found it curious enough to be involved in the discovery portion. Regardless, she hoped this whole excursion would end, and soon.

There had been readings of Crystalisks far from home, considering they were only known on the planet of Orax this was a disturbing anomaly. More strange was the patterns in which the Crystalisks were expanding. Rapid and methodically interconnected underground tunnels came from the geological reports prior to their arrival. Adalee was worried if something else was at work. Did someone plant these creatures here? How did they even get so far from home if it wasn't at the hand of a hunter or exotic tamer? She shook her internal questions off and focused on what was ahead of them all.

"We got a reading!" Jenna yelled out. She was young, skinny and a talented scientist when it came to astrobiology.
"Where about!?" Brock responded with his own assertive octave back at Jenna. He was the clear head researcher on this excursion, but Adalee stayed away from him. She knew little about him. All she knew is he was incredibly good at what he did in the East Wing back home on Lorrd. If only she was smart enough to develop vials of medicine that could cure those around her like him. She couldn't.
"Look!" Another loud voice came from the distance ahead of them all. "We got a large entrance here!"
"Thank Lorrd..." Adalee whispered sarcastically under her breath. "I'll go ahead of everyone, check if it's safe. Am I clear, Evelynn? Stay put."

Adalee knew if any of them died, it would be a disaster. It would be her own money being set on fire, she wouldn't take any chances. Luckily, this excursion was labeled as discovery and research only. They wouldn't run into anything too dangerous. Although, being so far from home precautions were taken. A few scientist in the second group behind them had tools and weapons, if, force forbid, they came under attack by anything they weren't prepared for. Preparation was key for these annoying excursions.

The Little Thorne stopped at the edge as she met Evelynn at the tip of a gaping hole. The rocky terrain seemed crushed and jagged from seemingly one large creature or a multiplicative herd of strong animals forcing the collapse in front of them. The light breeze forced some of the dry dirt to slip passed the edge, dripping to the extended darkness of the gaping maw below. It was deeper than Adalee anticipated. Still, she had a job to do.

She sighed.

"You sure you want to go down there before group B shows up?" Evelynn asked, watching Adalee toss a thick metallic wire across the plane between her and the infinite well of darkness below.
"Just get Brock and Jenna to get the big lights ready." Adalee began to firmly tie the metal wire around a large splinter of the earth. She tugged it abruptly, hoping the resitance could hold her weight. She checked for cracks in the foundation of the spire and deduced it was safe enough. "I'll see you down there Eve."

***
15 minutes later...
​

Adalee could feel the cold steel against her hands. The effort it took to make it this far made her sweat, droplets of salty secretion dripping to the ground below. She was close, the deep darkness engulfing her as she dangled in the air. Adalee was careful, releasing the second form of flexible wiring to her clip. She slid smoothly downward and abruptly stopped, just before her toes met the ground and her boot made its first imprint. Her breathing was heavy and she looked upward. The gaping hole looked small. then she questioned it herself.

How far down am I?

She could feel the warmth of the breeze from above slam into her, but this time it came from all sides around her being. Her golden eyes peered through the dim lit cavern once more, scanning for answers before releasing herself from the anchored rope-like wire. Tiny echoes from falling stone and dirt from the surface trickeled down and made her paranoid at the stability of where she stood. Then, she turned, free from the wire on her waist. A wide spanning open area of crystal and rock embedded with bright red decay greeted her. The crimson hues splintered off into the foreground of every spire and mass that created the largest part of the cavernous creation. Adalee was in awe of the massive collection of sharply sliced gems and stone. This wasn't natural.

Trepidation struck her as she stepped forward, cresting over the shadows of stalagmites above. Deep rooted pathways all connected to where she was located, as if the whole idea of this place was to be a central point of travel too and from anywhere in the planets crust. She continued forward, placing her hand lightly on the wall to her left, before she retracted it in a sudden disgust of the texture.

Slime?

Adalee, lifted her hand to her nose and sniffed. It made her gag, then revulsion clicked in her throat. She was going to throw up, but just when she went to let it happen, it passed. She looked for dry area near her and wiped it as best she could to rid herself of the smelly substance that warped her sense of smell. There were no signs of anything, empty tunnels stretching for what seemed infinitely in every direction from her. She took a deep breath, looking up to the great distance between her and the rest of the group waiting on her signal.

She clicked over to the comms and gave the green light.

"Clear. Hit me with the lights before you make your descent." She paused for a moment and had to warn them. "Oh, don't touch the far walls when you get down here. Trust me."

As the brightness of the Cavern lit up, sharp shadows cast to the side, Adalee could see it all for the first time. There was something bigger at work here. Crystalisks couldn't do this, she didn't think a normal creature could.

Instead she was plagued with one thought...

Something seems off.
​

Gristle

 

[Gristle]

A galaxy to expand into, a nigh endless series of biologically active worlds upon which to glut and grow and plunder. The appeal was almost too much for Gristle - had almost been too much for the Myka even to hope to process, but their journey across vast voids and starry seas had brought them to a feeding ground ripe for the harvest.

They would not allow the fruit to spoil.

The Ykaradan had moved swiftly to locate a planet somewhere near the outskirts of the galaxy from whence they could launch an initial foray. Scouts and explorers had detected meager and weak civilizations on the world, presumed to be incapable of defending themselves were the Myka to attack. The Thrum formed plans, and Gristle was chosen as the foremost War-Form of the Ykaradan to lead the assault. Of course, there were suspicions that perhaps the enemies they were facing would be more capable than expected - this was always a worry when dealing with new threats, but there was no avoiding the necessity of initiating a first attack and simply dealing with the consequences that followed.

They had been right to worry - at least to an extent.

The meager farmers and colonists of the small and unremarkable world had banded together rapidly in defense of their homes and families, had banded together into militias held together by charismatic locals and armed with outdated blaster rifles, rusted slugthrowers, and heavier weapons donated by local criminal syndicates and rebel cells. The defense in some parts of the world had been pathetic, quickly cut down by the spontaneous assault of the Myka and the acidic and chemical weapons they so regularly employed. A blaster rifle was a danger at a distance, but a Major in close range could rip an adult humanoid in half as easily as breathing.

Numbers played into the battle, for the entirety of the Ykaradan colony had ventured forward to reap the small world, and yet even with all of its members banded together against the Myka, they were outnumbered considerably. Other things were taken into effect too, however, including the somewhat weak communications going from the surface to the colony ships in orbit. The Myka were used to attacking all at once in great and vast swarms, but warfare in this galaxy would require different strategies.

Were it not for the arrival of allies from neighboring worlds, the Myka would have eventually consumed the planet. As it was, they were driven off by great sacrifice on the part of the coalition. The Ykaradan needed to abandon the world to lead the coalition fleet away, and the speed with which they had retreated meant that a number of Myka were left on the planet. Gristle had been given an assurance that the fleet would return and that they would take with them the harvest of captives, biomass, and resources that their conquest had earned. In the meantime, the survivors were scattered across the world, holding onto whatever trophies they had taken until they could be rescued.

Two months had passed.

Gristle did not know why they had not been rescued yet from their stranding upon the world, but he trusted that the others would return for them. Terror had promised as much, and it would be quite the drain of resources to lose so many of their kin upon the world simply because they could not arrange to gather them. Gristle maintained his hope in rescue, though the doubts had begun to creep into the minds of his weaker-willed brethren. Many of them had not been designed for war as he had, and they longed for the quiet and peaceful moments afforded within the colony. Nevertheless, they were reminded of their duty and the benefit they provided to the colony, and this was enough to keep them calm for now.

In the meantime, Gristle had done what he could to fortify their position. The remaining militia members on the surface had been mostly expunged, or else driven into hiding not dissimilar to their own. Their carcasses had afforded much-needed foodstuffs, and their conversion into nectar had provided further insight into the anatomy of many of the humanoid races of this new galaxy. Gristle had especially enjoyed observing as acidic substances melted the calcium-rich bones of the slain and had been taking careful tallies of the time such things took.

Not every member of the militia had been slain immediately. Gristle had determined early on that their wait might be longer than anticipated and that it would be good to ration whatever available meals could be attained. While the corpses of the initial battle had provided significant food - enough that they had not even approached anything like starvation - he worried that eventually, they would have to fight a losing battle against decay. Converting flesh into nectar was a process, and he suspected that only so much could be shifted before the bodies had completely decayed from natural forces.

Which meant keeping at least a handful of captives alive and penned. The Myka with Gristle numbered eighteen, and though about a third were Nanitics, they had managed to carve out a not-insignificant series of tunnels through the surrounding region which connected them to neighboring squads. The larvae and pupae of the enemy had been concentrated under the protection of one Myka swarm in particular but the adults of their kind quickly found themselves entombed within the squelching wet resin rooms that the Myka adored. Gristle had made certain that each of the seven captives had been blinded to reduce their capacity for escape.

The captives were supplied with a meager quantity of nectar for themselves so that they could stave off malnutrition, but Gristle was monitoring the process carefully to guarantee that they would not become an additional strain on resources. He had discovered that most of them would vomit and expel the contents of their stomachs when first being exposed to their resin cells, and he would be forced to direct Nanitics to clean up the mess so that no nutrients would be wasted. The expelled vomit was frankly meager in nutritional value, but saturated and fermented by the stomach acids of the captives, Gristle had found it somewhat tasteful if too soupy to properly enjoy - though larger chunks sometimes allowed this singular criticism to abate.

Each of these considerations had run through Gristle's mind when word had arrived of newcomers from the stars. The idea that others might have come to hunt for them seemed reasonable, but scouting Nanitics had shared their vision with him of these strange interlopers, and they seemed ill-prepared for any kind of warfare. Had they noticed the devastation that had been wreaked upon the colonies of the world, or had they perhaps managed to miss them? It was true that seldom few likely transmitted anymore, and many of the materials from these settlements had been scattered or annihilated by the conflict.

The War-Form split his forces and scattered them throughout the caverns they had created in anticipation of entry from this group of humanoids. In pitch black darkness they waited, pressed into walls and cubbyholes that had been purpose-crafted for this very reason. The Myka were quiet enough, though Gristle could feel the anticipation swelling through them, and he found himself constantly reprimanding their desire to burst forward and attack and seize the newcomers before it was time. For his part, Gristle was eerily patient in the way that he'd found only he could truly be.

There were eight humanoids, but their lead had gone in too far to be seen by the others, and an enterprising Worker was quick to grab them and bring them reeling into the darkness. Perhaps it was surprise at the suddenness of the blow, or perhaps it was the hefty body-check that the Worker had employed it catching his prey, but the humanoid had been altogether more quiet than expected. Perhaps the others of its party believed that they had gotten lost, because they continued ahead with only the slightest hint of worry in the pitch of their voices.

Another two were caught from behind the group after they had gotten themselves lost in the winding tunnels and circles of the caverns. These two were sloppier catches than previous, and managed to scream, but the Major who had grasped them was swift and powerful, and soon they too were gone from the interloper's midst.

The group spoke into their devices, and Gristle heard their panic and their terror and their appeals that they were being hunted. They had weapons, but they were fewer in number than the militia who had come before them, and lost within the tunnels of the Myka, they would require far more than mere weapons to be predator instead of prey.

They glanced about in fear, and Gristle relished in it, and the knowledge that they were undisciplined and weak. When he fell into their midst from the ceiling, his enormous weight shattering the lower body of his prey, his spikes catching and pulling at their hides as his forelimbs came down, he knew that they would make a sufficient tribute to his larders.

The screams began swiftly, and once begun, they could not be made to end.

Adalee Thorne

 

[Adalee Thorne]

Something was off.

Everything about the deep cavern told her a story of abandonment. It didn’t make sense. There were clear indications of living organisms treading through where she stood. The dark uninviting openings splintering off in every direction made her feel lost.

Had they stumbled upon a dead colony of Crystalisks? Was this even in their nature?

The earthly residue from the gaped creations tore the thick heart of the planet asunder. Destruction left in the wake of a species beyond Adalee’s comprehension. The overbearing silence of this lifeless hub of transportation disturbed her. The only thing creeping up from her being was anxiety. She examined the malformed crystals and rocks, each wedged and cut with visceral precision. The same squelching mucus was sporadically left behind from mineral to boulder. Her mind was teased with the notion that she wasn’t alone, nor did she think the slimy substance was old. She could still feel the remnants of warmth as her hand hovered over the discolored liquid.

Droplets in the distance echoed through the chamber and Adalee peered deeper into the vast darkness the light hadn’t been able to reach. Shadows peered back at her giving no recourse, only voids of momentary silence once again. Adalee felt something else now, anxiety turning to worry as the comms came back to life.

“Adalee, the equipment is dropping first, we will come after. Is everything still clear?” The voice crept into her silent existence with a crackle. She was hesitant to confirm, but nothing was dangerous here. At least, not yet, she thought.

“All clear. Over and out.” Her words didn’t feel right, but she knew the quicker they got their readings and spotted a Crystalisk; they could all go home.

The static dissipated and the alluring center of the hub called to her. The rays of light expanded and shimmered off giant boulders and euhedral shaped crystalline. Fractions of red streaks bounced off the deep walls of the chasm, highlighting the ruby octahedral gems scattered throughout. Adalee remembered a key eating habit of the Crystalisks and wondered how these magnificent jewels remained, uneaten.

Adalee crested over a large dip, jumped and landed at the edge of an overhang. Her pale skin exposed to the illumination of the piercing light above. Gleaming hilts twinkled in the distance, three perfectly harnessed to her waist, one at her back. They were the only thing that made her feel safe. Especially in dark places like this. Adalee’s garb was lightweight cloth, no sleeves accompanying the outfit. A white wrapping folded into the center core of her stomach, then back up to her shoulders. Light plates of refined steel rested on them, pads that could take the brunt of at least one good attack. She was no warrior, not truly. She was something more.

As she bathed in the light, she tilted her head back. It was actually peaceful down here. She closed her eyes for a moment and she could hear the whistling wind flow through every crack and splintered section of this place. Then it howled, whispering to her of her past. Her thoughts washed over with contemplation of a memory. A distant memory.

***​

Sand, sweat and swords. She was little now, but just as slender as the day she began her training. A girl, no longer a woman.

Cracks of loud refraction tore through her mind, the scene coming to life before her.

“Weak and pathetic. You need to anticipate their movements, their flaws. What am I doing wrong Adalee?” Her father’s voice boomed against the arena walls. Exhaustion set in. Another stroke of a violent swings barely grazed her shoulder. Her Bokken turned and the curve of the blunt weapon went to strike. It was meant to find purchase into the side of her father, instead it found empty spaces of air. She missed, again. “If you mean to be a Jedi, how do you expect to protect anyone like that!” His voice grew louder and the stinging pain of the opposing Bokken slammed into her back.

Adalee let out a painful groan, falling to the ground from the force behind the hit. She didn’t want to cry, instead, she just wanted exact revenge. To do things her own way, but that wasn’t the assignment. This whole process was forced on her. Being a Thorne meant changing the world. She was only six, but the weight of it all crushed her, suffocated her. Her effort to protect anything seemed inconsequential to the reality of her situation.

She was a weak child, learning how to use a blade. It was cruel, but necessary.

Reality struck her momentarily, eyes still closed as she gripped the handle of her hilt, making sure it was only a memory. It continued.

“People will die, because of you Little Thorne. Whether in servitude or in acts of great malevolence.” Father spoke once more. The harsh words seeped into her pores. She considered him hateful and mean. She couldn’t comprehend how a loving father was so twisted with expectation. “If you can’t protect those willing to protect you, you’ll be nothing. Just a wealthy brat!” The hate grew, senseless to Adalee’s own ill conceived intentions. Her anger and frustration surmounted, erupting in a flash of fit and rage.

Violent quickness came in masterful unpredictable swings with her Bokken. Tears welled up inside of her. The Bokken slipped through her father’s defenses slamming and cracking in half as it landed into his stomach. Falling to her knees she cried…her six year old thought brought her back to the ledge of the cavern.

***​

I can’t protect anyone…

Adalee’s eyes snapped open. Doubt was a mistress that often visited her, but these people, these youthful, intelligent scientists wouldn’t die on her watch. She would do everything she could to erase that memory. To overcome the impurity of who her father wanted her to be. Part of her knew he was right. She had to be strong, like the thorns of a bristle bush. She had to be as silent as venom entering the blood stream. Deadly as an assassin. She wasn't and lastly, she was no Jedi. The force never greeted her, not in the way her father demanded. An impossible task and a constant reminder of her inadequacies. Shame cast over her like a blanket, but then she took a deep breath.

He's wrong. She told herself, relinquishing all logic that hadn't proved it.

A mechanism to keep the demons at bay, a barrier that was spun like a web lies. That's why she told herself such things. Adalee didn't believe them though, instead lying to herself gave her comfort, confidence and conviction to prove them all wrong. Woman or not, such petty things were never taken into consideration. She would be worth of the name Thorne, in time. Ironically, Adalee considered time a trap. A fleeting containment to measure a life far bigger than its own outdated concept. It might have been a crazy stance, but it was stance none the less.

Adalee's golden eyes lowered. Sediments crumbling beneath her black and steel boots. Even the small pebbles seemed to glow with a faint sparkle. This place was rich with resources. Still, the lingering unknown made Adalee feel uneasy. She knelt, cupping the dry earth and small rocks into her hand. She examined it closely, hoping to garner any clues from the ground. She glance back at the ground and her brow raised.

Uneven. The ground dipped deeper into the earth as her eyes widened. This was a print. Two sharp edges outlining the thick telluric around her. Adalee's face turned to shock, this wasn't a Crystalisk footprint. This was a phenom, more unknown than what lurked in the darkness deep within the weaving tunnels ahead.

"We're all here now, all the equipment is being set up as we speak. Brock's gonna want that area right there." Jenna's voice reached her and Adalee watched as her finger pointed to the far side of the large cave. "It would be perfect for our readings."
"Jenna, I want these lights moved to hit that area sooner, rather than later." Brock's voice grew closer now. He sighed and his hand patted Adalee's shoulder before continuing. "You find anything interesting down here while we caught up?"
"Brock, I'm not getting any residual readings of Crystalisks in this area." Evelynn sighed, switching from one research scanner to another. "Yeah, nothing."
"Interesting." Adalee looked up at Brock. She needed to ask, before saying anything else. "So, these Crystalisks...what kind of feet do they have?"
"It's a Decapod." Brock answered quickly. "Thier physiology is incredible, due in part to them being Geovores." Brock finally saw the concern on Adalee's face. He stepped back. "Why do you ask?"
"Only this." Adalee stood and moved to the side revealing the animal print. Brock's face went pale. It was too late.

A scream echoed from the infinite void of black that Adalee knew held terrifying secrets. Tiny hairs split, rising to the surface of her neck. Then her arms, legs and soon her whole body was washed over in fear. Thier group scurried closer to Adalee, their heavy breathing expelling their fright as they listened to the tormenting excersize in the deep dark. Four sudden chimes sparked from their comm relays, blue lights sending the dispatch from Group B of the excursion.

"We are being hunted!!!! These aren't-!!" The comms died with a loud sizzle and snap, a squelching end to the last thing clipping coming over from the comms.

Adalee swallowed, a knot caught in her throat. Admittedly, she was scared. Her nerves reached her gut. Then she blamed herself for thier new predictament. She told herself no one would die. She looked to them all.

Jenna, Brock, and Evelynn. They would die because she didn't intially trust her gut. She wouldn't, no, she couldn't feel sorry for herself now. She needed to make a judgement call.

"What do we have for capture?" Adalee asked, her tone holding slight doubt of confidence.
"Uh..uh we have nets and prods. I think...I think..." Evelynn was shaking now. "I think we have a few weapons."
"Perfect, all of you stay here. Set up wiring and nets, I'm going to get everyone back. Be ready."
"You're gonna go after them, by yourself?" Brock asked out of fear. If she left who would protect them? "You're supposed to keep us alive!" Brock's voice cracked in panic.
"Shut up! You'll get us killed." Jenna's voice was assertive but calm.

Adalee smirked, Jenna was stronger than she thought. She looked at Jenna, gave a nod and jumped off the ledge without hesistation. Before Adalee knew it, she was graced with the endless embrace of the infinite black.

Jenna stood watching and she whispered out. "Come back to us Little Thorne."
​

Gristle

 

[Gristle]

The attack had gone off without a hitch, but newcomers seldom came in such small bands as these. In Gristle's experience, it seemed likely that as many as thirty or forty others had come with them. Interrogations would be useful in sniffing out details regarding the makeup of the enemy force, but they would be slowed by the still present linguistic barrier that existed between the Myka and their humanoid adversaries. While "Galactic Basic" seemed to be widespread enough for all within the galaxy to utilize it well, the Myka had never existed in this galaxy, and it was still as alien as any foreign tongue.

Yet, necessity and danger would breed well into action. They would determine the exact nature of their enemy whether it took them a single night of questioning or several. Until then, Gristle would need to keep his forces on high alert, ready for any kind of danger. It would also be prudent to inform some of the other cells of the potential invaders and the hostility they might bring. While the weapons were weak, Gristle suspected that the quantity of units might make up for the quality of their fighting gear.

A pair of scouts were dispatched to carry the message. The two Workers had been possessed of some of the weakest morale within the entire force, and having them take a few moments away from the group might do wonders for their overall readiness. Gristle trusted the process - the Ykaradan would return for them and they would be reunited, but they needed to remain hardy and strong enough to assist when that time came or else they might be doomed to a more permanent stranding.

Gristle tapped into the Thrum, that great mass-mind that allowed each of the Myka to commune with one another. The sole Synaptic of their entourage allowed them to direct their mental attentions toward it, collecting, distributing, and allowing context and data to flow through to each other member. The Myka were not prone to random acknowledgements or greetings when communing in this way, and so Gristle knew that the request for his attention from his peer was noteworthy.

"Should we blind the prisoners, War-Form Gristle?" questioned Knapper, the Crafter.

Gristle thought that Knapper would make an excellent War-Form. His bloodlust and desire to inflict carnage was... significant. In a quiet moment away from the others, the two had exchanged something akin to notes and something akin to experiences with one another. Knapper was a master of bones and their crafting and was always desirous of fresher and novel materials to utilize in his work. Together, bound under cover of darkness and secrecy, the two had torn through a bundle of corpses for such hidden treasures. Knapper promised that they were working on something pleasing for the War-Form, but they would not share their thought of it for fear of spoiling the surprise.

Gristle shared his adoration for Knapper, the emotional sensation, and felt as the Crafter preened with the notice.

"Not yet. They may be more valuable bargaining chips intact. Still - it will slow their escape if they are. We will blind two."

Knapper agreed, but there was a question, unspoken in words, and yet processed nonetheless. Confusion among the Myka was an unheard of issue when even unworded questions could be expressed in the mere expression of one's own synapses and feelings. Perfect context made for far more perfect communication when they opened themselves up more fully in this way, though it was rare for Gristle to find others of his kin so welcoming of his complete attention.

Which two should be blinded? Gristle was inclined toward the consumption of the females since these tended to have greater body fat ratio comparatively, and that would be useful in the event of hunger, though he recognized that the males tended toward a larger overall weight. He himself needed the heightened proteins that they might provide with their musculature, but the others needed carbohydrates and lipids instead, and it was the burden of a leader to think the best for those under his command.

Still - what about the culture or the tactics of his enemies? Would they value one gender over the other? Were they equal? Gristle lacked data. It was far safer then to have one of each blinded so that the goal of slowing any escape was fulfilled without too greatly jeopardizing the bargaining tools they had been given. Knapper disconnected from the Thrum as they went to make the work done with horrible glee.

This issue solved, Gristle settled back, gnawing on a piece of dark, protein-rich nectar. The bitterness filled him with satisfaction, and he envisioned each bite as going toward replenishing any shed pieces of his chitinous exoskeleton. He would retain his combat efficiency as long as possible - that might be all that saved them in the end.

In the meantime, the scouts set off to alert the other cells, and a number of patrols and watchmen were established.

The interrogations could wait an hour for him to savor the meal. The blinding would be done by then as well, and the mere threat of bodily harm would have soaked in to a greater degree. All the better for the work ahead.


Adalee Thorne

 

[Adalee Thorne]

Adalee couldn't remember the last twenty minutes. The echoes of chattering reverberated off the walls from a long distance away. Although at times the tunnel would grow silent, leaving her to question why she attempted to go after the second group of scientist to begin with. Conditions were far from optimal and she only had a measly three feet in front of her.

Three feet ahead was the furthest her eyes allowed her to see in the brooding pitch black darkness ahead. She had left the gear back with the others, which she hoped were still alive. I the span of minutes that transpired, Adalee had considered this to be the end. When all beings came in contact with fear, it seemed the most logical reaction to think of death. Adalee wondered if whatever was deeper in the caverns could sense it. The growing pit of dread that rigorously ran through her.

Of course, she was a Thorne. Naturally, on top of that fear was defiance and ambition. So, steadfast and onward was the only way for her. She had a reputation to uphold, people to bring home and protect. Failure, again; was not an option. The only option was success.

In more ways than one, Adalee had faced threats before. This however, was more harrowing than that of something relatable. Something of equal measure. This endeavor was different, this battle would be unknown. Despite it not even starting, at least for her, she knew this in her core. Whatever lurked beyond, it teased her with this truth. Whether through intuition or the force, Adalee cared little.

She would bring them home.

After a few full minutes of silence and pressing into the tortuous nothing. She heard for the first time small rocketing clinks. They pounded in rhythm like war drums. These were louder than the last waves of chattering, this was something new. Echoes coalesced into a thundering rampage as the tunnel began to creak shaking loose any sand or earthly rubble packed neatly above her.

Still, no contact.

The drumming slams continued before halting with no warning. Then the percussion. Waves of chittering echoes filled the tunnel. The sound reminded her of chains quickly being mechanically hoisted upward. Each connection louder than the next, before slowing into few.

Then again, quiet.

Adalee's heart began to make it's own debut, beating rapidly in anticipation for what was next. She wanted to scream out, but her chances of surviving against whatever behemoth passed over, would be slim to none. For all she knew, a herd of animals in a different tunnel had made all that noise.

Unlikely. She thought, steadying her breathing.

Another intangible tug of discomfort came to her. As if she was being observed before the real threat showed itself. Slowly, her hand gripped the hilt of her blade. Her motion fluid even with the crushing weight of despair in her heart. Everything told her what she already knew…

It was here, no, they were here. Watching and waiting like patient reptiles. Only, these were no reptiles. If they were they would be at her mercy and not the other way around. She took a deep breath before focusing on everything around her. Had she been a Jedi, with a plasma blade, she would've had a better chance at fighting. Such things didn't matter now.

A loud click spilled into her, before the darkness grew taller in front of her. Sheen wetness for eyes glossing over her. This was no Crystalisk, it's moth like features made her eyes widen in horror. Adalee hated bugs, let alone moths. Her breath left her, trying to catch up to the possibilities of such an existence. She wanted to fight, but couldn't, not here. She would die to this thing.

She observed it’s movement, it curled backwards almost ready to strike her. The same putrid smell from the beginning hub section of the caves encapsulated her. She wanted to gag, but instead remained calm. Adalee couldn't see the rest of the creature, but made her own assumptions. Thoughts of the most grotesque outcome possible, racked her brain. Ultimately, it led her to one decision and quickly.

Run…

The answer came to her like a raging fire. The burning knot of tightness in her chest released as she unsheathed her blade with wicked precision. She clicked over the comms and began to run. Each heartbeat thrumming throughout her entire body as she attempted to escape. The thundering creature's pursuit came for her. As if the seconds turned to minutes, minutes back into hours, she ran as the darkness moved with her.

In between breaths she relayed everything she could.

“These are not Crystalisks!” Adalee could feel the warmth of the creatures breath behind her, but somehow she wasn't dead. “I repeat, these are Crystalisks! Please tell me you have everything ready for capture!” The comm link switched off.

Adalee continued to run, sharp hands and legs of the creature came into view, but not before Adalee swung her blade upward. The blade connected rebuking the direct attempt to hurt her backwards. She slid under the limb as she made contact, pushing off her left foot to regain control of her body before continuing forward. Her breathing was abnormal now, the monstrous threat was on the hunt and she was the prey.

For the first time in a long time her defiance and ambition was broken. Panic almost starting to set in. Her mind considered her father's words once more, but shook them away. This wasn't the time for that. Regardless of the weight doubt brought her. Adalee’s breaths hissed with paranoia as another attempt came for her, part of the creature's weapon slicing into her arm like a well refined scalpel.

Adalee yelped in pain. This wasn't good, but overall, her arm wasn't her leg and she could continue to run, so she did. She didn't have time to consider how bad the wound was. The only warmth in the cold dark tunnel that came to her was in the form of her own blood. It leaked from the top of her left shoulder to her hand. It was worse than she thought. The small tingles of numbness slipped into the core of her left hand, her palm twitching from the damage.

Not good..

She was terrified now, one misstep and she was as good as dead. No more Lorrdian politics to be dealt with. No more worries of her own kept secrets. Certainly, no more credits to be had. Death wouldn't allow these things to continue, she and they; would be no more in her new world of death. In a way it made her smile, the irony of the dark tunnel, how it felt like death to her. If it was like the minutes prior to finding the ruthless bug, she wouldn't have minded the embrace of a the final dark. Despite those weighing feelings, she ran.

Adalee was a fighter, but all she could do now was run.

***​

“I repeat, these are not Crystalisks! Please tell me you have everything ready for capture!” The comm link switched off.

Jenna heard the comms come to life. The spark of hope she had been waiting for in the last thirty minutes, shined through the dark void of the tunnel she had been staring at. She looked at the others, each of them had set multiple trip lines at the entrance of the tunnels, no matter where Adalee came out of, the creature would surely feel the weight of modern technology.

Shocking metal nets would be sprung on whatever slipped through into the open lit hub of the cavern. Jenna wasn't sure if it would work, but she stood, weapon in hand point at the everlast dark. She looked over to Brock waiting to slam down on a red button to activate multiple traps on the ground. Each of them carefully constructed to contian the beast in a force-field if necessary.

"Do not hit the button till I give the signal Brock." Jenna's tone was serious, unstaggering in the face of soon to be danger. "Evelynn, you know what to do."
"Roger that." Evelynn squeezed the long barrel of her gun, she scoped in and grinned. "Whatever this thing is I'm shooting, may the force be with it."
"Adalee should be here soon, remember wait till she is passed all the traps, we don't want her trapped in there with it!"

Jenna peered into the dark, her own gun pressed against her sholder. They weren't soldiers, but as a young girl her father trained her well in the arts of ballistics. It felt like home, for but a moment.

Until out of the pitch black, the pale Thorne emerged. A Myka voraciously sprining out in tow, ready to kill.

Evelynn's eyes widened in horror, she gulped nervously and before she aimed down her sights, she took a breath and fired.
​

Gristle

 

[Gristle]

He had only gotten halfway through the meal before he was interrupted. Irritation swelled within Gristle; he hated being stopped during mealtime, but the urgency with which the Nanitic spoke seemed to indicate that something had gone quite badly and required his urgent attention. "There is a fight with a human" it clarified in its high-pitched whine. Nanitics were only barely conscious, but they made excellent messengers since they didn't need to know what they were talking about to repeat it which meant there was far less emotional attachment and bias toward what was being conveyed.

Of course, the primary method of information-sharing was still the Thrum. Gristle opened his attention to it, highlighting the shared context and experience of one of the farthest Myka, the one who was doubtless involved in the conflict. Another was fairly close as well, but this one was hanging back, trepidation pouring from it at the idea of hurling itself into unknown danger. Gristle reprimanded him and conveyed his disappointment in its pacifism, but it was not listening to them. He wished that he had sent another Nanitic along with them so that he could stoke it into delivering a message.

The hunter conveyed openly its thoughts and ideas even as their synapses fired into existence, providing the Myka with something like a real-time stream of its actions and interactions. "I am close to catching it. I have wounded it. See it bleed from the wound?" and they could see themselves the gentle red which had spilled from her left shoulder. Had the Worker been subjected to a more intensive training and the rigmaroles of heightened athleticism, Gristle did not doubt that she would have seized her prey already and returned victorious to their camp with another piece of flesh to devour or trade.

He would need to work on expanding the capacities of the Workers. As it was they made up the bulk of the armed forces of the Myka, but many of them had become afflicted with an increasing desire for the more constructive and gentle aspects of labor instead of the blood-spilling of warfare. There were only so many War-Forms and while these maintained the correct attitudes and training, their peers had begun to slack in the face of a century of Ykaradan dominance over their vassal colonies. This would need to change - they needed to be as prepared as they could be for facing battle in this new galaxy or else they would suffer for their negligence.

"It is calling for help. It screams into its machine. Others are here somewhere."

The Worker was certainly correct in her interpretation of the worried shouts, but it was strange to Gristle to see that she did not seem to take them into account. He scoured her thoughts and found that they were all focused on the glory of victory and success in this hunt. There were more noble thoughts too such as securing the safety of the colony or the small band that had been left behind, but those could be found in all Myka... these former motivations were more personal. Not a thought was spared as to how enemy reinforcements might gather ahead and ambush the creature.

"Caution. Do not lose your focus on your surroundings." He expressed amidst a whirlwind of encouragement and cheers from the others. Whenever he inserted himself into the Thrum like this, others tended to balk and pull into themselves, but this time they were too distracted with the coming seizure to think much of his bloodletting and carnage. The Worker too was fixated and though it heard his advice it did not seem to act on it more than a handful of glances at the corners of the room as it ran.

The enemy reinforcements did not need to run into the conflict; their ambush was successful. The instant that the Worker had entered into the new room, intent on chasing her prey, there was a sudden surge of awareness and fear at the appearance of many other humans who had awaited her arrival. She attempted to leap upwards utilizing her wings to dodge away from them, but they had been waiting, and the plasma bolts leaped through the air with terrible violence, impacting her flank.

Gristle felt the surging pain and muscular shutdown from the stunning bolts and fixated on them even as the remainder of the trap went into motion, completely incapacitating the Worker. Gristle saw her last thoughts bouncing around in her head while the other Myka withdrew from her mind in the event that her death caused them psychological trauma. He did not fear such things, though, and took in every last instance of thought and cognizance so that it might be shared with the Thrum when they returned home. Every second retained of an individual's life was valuable - it could not be retaken once they were gone, but future generations might know the real personage of the Myka who had fallen by way of their rescued thoughts.

Stillness, Stygian darkness where once there was comprehension, and then the signal faded and Gristle saw nothing else from the form. He thought they were still alive, though there was no way to confirm they would stay that way.

He willed a summons that was more impulse than word, and Knapper confirmed that he had finished his earlier work.

"See if you can get one of their speaking machines to work. I wish to listen to our enemy."

In the meantime, the remaining messenger was recalled. Defensive positions would be assumed. They had lost one of their own, but they were resolved not to lose another.

Adalee Thorne