Public Drifting in The Deep [Open/Enclave]

[Voices of The Deep]

Some things are better left at rest~​

You know why habit rhymes with rabbit? Because your whole life disappears down a rabbit hole. When you grow long sensitive ears to better hear the sounds of sirens coming for you, it becomes an instinct to escape down that hole before your predators find you. And here, at this point in time it seemed the young man was the rabbit and his inner growing ambition and recklessness is his predator. He wanted no secrets, no lies, no betrayals so he could at least live with himself without waking up in broken dreams and despair.

But what happens when the darkness in your life comes crawling back, lurking in the deepest, darkest shadows just waiting for the right moment to strike again -- well that big fat cloud of darkness in his life are all the mistakes he made in his past. It's almost always impossible to get rid of it, one reason why is because that dark energy clings to the vulnerable and the innocent and unfortunately Jericho was feeling very vulnerable.

He had been exposed to much in the time he had grown...the lessons he learned and the wisdom he reaped exposed his young fragile mind to cruel reality of this galaxy...although even his own logic prevented him from fully exploring its depths he could not help but wallow in his own self destruction. This was simply the world he was born into and there was nothing he could really do to change it...not anymore.

He could not change the past, but he could try for a better future. But even in knowing this the mysterious man found himself unable to shake a certain memory. The memory of that fateful day where all he knew was ripped from his arms. The images of his mother perishing that night were all to vivid to the point where the mere thought of her left his mind raw and bloody with the recollection of that nights events.

He had to know why...he couldn't shake it off and forget. He couldn't turn the other cheek...he couldn't let it go. He needed closure and this was the closest he ever was to attaining some real answers. He had spent years investigating the files at The Foundation, countless dead ends had finally gotten him here. To the edge of the system, kissing the fringes of the galactic map lost in a mesmerizing cloud of mist that masked the location. And as Jericho drifted through the mist blinding lights came to sight as Titan finally graced the mans eyes.

And it was glorious, even more so than its descriptions. It's structure was incredible as far as space stations went, appearing almost like a ceiling fan with the fins pulled down the mega-structure appeared to be multiple space stations strewn into one via a single connecting stem at the base of the structure. Each other segment was completely isolated from its other counterparts, the stem being the only unifying location that allowed access to each station branch.


Jericho was led here by a number of old ship records that had this station as their most recent visit after the attack on his home years ago; luckily not everyone wiped their previous destinations from their ships drives and this gave him lead he needed.


Problem was, the place was severely picky about who they allowed through the front door and more often than not the only ones who ever got in were those with a lot of pocket change or a VIP invitation from the owners of the Station. Exceptions were made all the time of course, but to someone like Jericho he'd have a better chance getting into a Jedi Temple Vault than being allowed through the front door of Titan.

It was strange though, how quiet it was. As long as it took him to find this place it concerned him that he met no resistance so far. And as his instruments went about their scans it became evident to him that security was not only loose...it was nonexistent. So radio chatter, so patrolling ships, even the shields were down.

But the station looked completely untouched. Fully operational too from the looks of it, but not a single ship adrift in the sea of space. Nothing about it felt right, and so as his vessel slowly neared the stem of the station, Jericho left his ship hidden in the cosmic clouds nearby as he ventured into the cold abyss.

Floating weightlessly in the emptiness of the void; the cold nothingness helping to soothe his aching mind as Jericho neared the gigantic hull along the side of the vibrant space station. Adjusting himself while floating the man directed his legs downward and let himself clash directly with the hull, his boots smashing into the steel of the station and releasing a rippling rave of electrical energy as he stuck himself to its surface.

He remained still, letting the magnetic pull of his suit fully stick to the station before standing his full height and pulling one foot off of the hull and moving it forward, taking one leg after the other and traversing the metal surface with a scanner in hand. Reading the screen as he inched ever so closer to the specific hatch that he needed to get into. When the Scanner began to go off rapidly he grinned from under his hooded mask, leaning down and taking a knee as he examined the hull only to find a port.

Fiddling with his scanner he plucked a cord from the device and plugged it into the open port on the station and began to meddle with the security protocols for the stem. He imagined Titans security as impossible and had managed to get this special device from someone who once used it to rob the place completely undetected while the station was being built. But since the old geezer had long since retired from such a life Jericho was lucky enough to attain the device which still had security codes programmed into it. The codes changed regularly, but the device downloaded its algorithm which allowed it to attain every future code directly from their own system. Complicated little gadget, but still easy to use; or at least for him it was. Jericho was not exactly a renowned thief but the man knew how to stalk around without being detected by sensors or other forms of security. Still, had he not had this convenient little scanner he might of never gotten this far.

After about ten minutes of fiddling with the port a number of holo screens filled his helmets visual. Live feeds swapping back and forth as Jericho gauged a look inside to see what he was dealing with. However, when the feed from the security footage played to him there was a long silence before a single phrase escaped his lips.

"What...the...kark~"

On the footage almost every camera showed the same thing. The ship was absolutely fully operational, and still being managed. Faculty and staff appeared to all be going about their normal typical work. But...things were off.

How off?

Well, for starters was the janitor mopping away quite the mess left in some room. The odd part? His arm appeared completely devastated and mangled and while bleeding out onto the floor while mopping he stared blankly into space.

On another visual the mess hall was filled with people, sitting there with trays of food...still. Not a single person talking, moving, hell it didn't even look like they were breathing. But at the tables sat hundreds, staring at each other as if there were some kind of chess match.

"What is happening in there?" He mumbled quietly, noticing the main gates to The Stem were unrestricted. Jericho pressed a button and unlocked the docking station on The Stem.

He had no clue what was going on in there. But before any more surprises arrived he needed to get inside. And now that The Stem has been opened, closing the station was no longer an option.

Returning to his ship, Jericho prepared to dock, flying into The Stem only to be met with a pristine interior as he climbed out his ship. Met with zero resistance as he prepared his gear on his ship.

Talohn Atar | Sergeant Omen | Leea Pandac | Siv Dragr | Marlon Sularen | Maestus | Natoadia ​

 

[Cyran Vaas]

Cyran sat on the observation deck of his large baleen freighter. Having tiresley been doing one gig after another in order to pay off the loan on the vessel. But he didn’t regret his investment. It was almost mind boggling the amount of cargo he could transport and the front of the ship could act as his own personal hangar bay and garage for him. It was like his own little space station. He was currently in orbit around Nar Shaddaa, the smuggler's moon, reading idly scrolling over the holonet while his R4 droid co-pilot was looking through coms in the region to get an idea of their possible next gig. As Cyran was reading a new article about this supposed “second hyperspace war”, personally he didn’t know there was a first one, so his R4 friend got his attention. Excitedly communicating with chirps, beeps and whistles. There was some sort of a distress call.

Getting R4-P4 to bring up the SOS transmission he checked it out. There was a woman speaking, seemingly in some dark room. They spoke of some sort of dire situation on their station. Going on about some sort of “lifeform” that was causing problems. “Geonosians? Hmm, aren’t those the bug people in the confederacy?” He asked out loud before his droid companion confirmed his question. They claimed they couldn’t make it but that the location was also acquired with the message. The woman also cautioned against going to the station and that it needed to be destroyed. Than the transmission was cut out.

Leaning back in his chair Cyran thought for a moment. All the while R4-P4 eagerly encouraged them to go to the location and see what’s up as well as trying to appeal to Cyran’s sense of heroism and honor. “I don’t know, I would say the local authorities should handle this. Hmm, but I feel like they have bigger fish to fry than someone’s failed science project it seems.” After sensing Cyran’s reluctance P4 tried to further encourage them to go. Talking about how this is like their moment to live out old legends. How they could be valiant heroes and save the damsel in distress. “You moron, she already said that she won't make it.” After that comment P4 began to screech in stubborn frustration. “Okay fine, we can go investigate, but you heard the woman, we can’t board the station. Saying it was dangerous or something. Here, punch in the coordinates, let’s go check it out." Satisfied with that P4 began to set them in route to the station, apparently it was around space controlled but a new organization of mandalorians.

After a decent travel through the blue haze of hyperspace the large freighter popped into close view of the station. “Hmm, scans aren’t reporting real damage to the station. All the reading we’re getting makes it look normal.” As he spoke Cyran was interrupted by P4 who made Cyran away from a secondary ship not also pretty close by. “Oh you think that’s the freighter they sent the transmission from?” Cyran asked, it was a bad guess actually. That might be correct, after all they did sound like they didn’t get away from the threat. Cyran wasn’t sure what kind of station this was. But he was making some educated guesses that it was some sort of scientific hub or research center. “Alright P4, meet me by The Rose, I’ll get ready.” He said before getting up from his seat to prepare himself, now feeling convinced by being here that he should investigate.

---

After a couple minutes Cyran approached his light YT-2400 in the large hold of the Baleen freighter. As he did, some of the nearby droid crew approached him to see what was going on. “Alrighty, P4 you’re in charge until I get back, I’m gonna check out the frigate with The Rose. I’ll keep comms open, and make sure no one boards this ship." The astromech droid chirped a response before the large door to the front of the ship began to open to allow Cyran to leave with his smaller ship. He currently wore his armor, and had all his gear on. He had a feeling things were far worse than what he was able to confirm for himself. Stepping into his light freighter he readied it for lift off before heading over to the smaller frigate that he presumed he got the transmission from.

 

[Talohn Atar]

It was a relatively quiet evening thus far. As usual, Talohn had made dinner and they all had watched a movie in the living room area of the ship. Well, Talohn, Leea and Zlova watched it at least. Monari was distracted. Working on some sort of project. Following the movie, Talohn had decided to head to the helm of the Crimson Wolf to do some calibrations on the guns. That's when the message blasted over the comms, causing his fur to stand on end as he nearly falls out of his seat. "WHAT THE VLO?!" He shrieks, cursing in catharese. He grabs the edge of his seat, pulling himself upwards to regain his balance. He looks at the woman's face who's appeared on his screen, his expression slowly shifting from sheer surprise to grim terror. Geonosian queens? What the hell were these idiots up to that led to that? He taps a few buttons on the keyboard, bidding his ship to track the signal. If it was nearby...he'd go, if it wasn't, he would leave it be. Surely it couldn't be that close, right? Then the distance indicator appeared on his screen. Upon seeing it, the cathar places a hand on his forehead, running it down his face with a sigh. "Dammit...." He hisses to himself. Now he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ignored it.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Folks on the ship would all find themselves called to the main room of the ship, save for Monari who was already in bed. Talohn wasn't going to wake the kid up and worry her like this. Once everyone was gathered in the main room, Talohn would replay the message he received over holocom. He seems wound up, for sure. Once the message finishes, Talohn stands up from his spot on the couch. "Back home...we have a similar creature. A form of fungi controlled by a creature we call a shar'viri eshi'mayu. Marrow born is what they're called in basic. We're close by, and I want to make sure not a single infected person gets off that ship. No doubt that station has valuables. We're going to run into a bunch of fools who don't care about the risk. I won't lie, we may have to take down anyone stupid enough to not wear a helmet. Speaking of, if anyone's coming with, they're gonna have to wear sealed armor. We don't know how this thing spreads it's influence." He states to Zlova and Leea. Luckily the armor he made for them both would suffice in that regard.

The cathar's attention then turns to Madlad. "You're the only one who can't be compromised. Which is why it's imperative that you stay here with Monari. In this situation, you're her greatest line of defense."

The droid, currently leaning on the wall, instantly stiffens. "You...mean...but....Talohn." For the first time, Madlad is nervous, stuttering. Yet it goes silent, knowing that Monari is the greatest priority. Thus, it nods slightly. "If we come back compromised, keep her safe by any means." Talohn adds, his words firm, conveying that it's not up for debate.

With that said, Talohn turns about to make his way towards the hangar. "Let's gear up."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Talohn would wait for everyone else who was coming to board the ship. He himself had changed into his Leonine Armor with an extra air tank hooked up to the back just in case it was needed. The same was offered to the others. Alongside this, he had his old blue lightsaber in a holster on his lower back. I'zêorra stjolkk, his prized blaster, is in a leather holster on his right thigh. Though he typically has it loaded with 14mm rounds, today it was loaded with class c disruptors. Alongside this, he has the Endgame disruptor rifle in a holster on his back. Finally, slung over his left shoulder so that it rests on his right hip is the squad configuration of the TDW H.A.R.M. He looks back at Madlad, who's waiting by the hangar entrance, and nods to him one more time before putting on his helmet and heading up the ramp to board the old Barloz. The freighter had been sitting unused in the hangar for a while now, but it would fly just fine.

Once on the ship, he blows dust off of all the controls and starts up the engine. After carefully flying the old freighter out of the hangar, he turns it's course towards the destination. As the station comes into view, he frowns upon seeing that the space station is completely undamaged. If this being influenced minds, it must have done so in such a subtle way that they didn't even have time to fight back. A dark...horrid change that happened overnight, one that no one had a chance of stopping. It seemed the station was still running, but Talohn doubted that those running it were still themselves. This was already looking worse than he could have comprehended. He steadily turns the ship so that it's able to easily go into the hangar bay. The ship would end up landing alongside the vessel of Cyran Vaas

Soon afterwards, the boarding ramp would open, allowing those aboard to disembark.

Zlova Rue Leea Pandac A ARS VAMI

 

[Leea Pandac]

The evening had been quiet, uneventful even. She enjoyed watching a holodrama with her friends Zlova and Talohn. It had been her turn to pick and she convinced the Cathar to run an older espionage thriller set in the pre-plague galaxy burning in a Galactic Civil War. Leea had heard about it on one of her deployments on Abregado, a colleague recommended it on the grounds of it being centred on a counter-intelligence agent of the Galactic Empire. Not a well-versed historian, Leea knew very little of the pre-plague galaxy and simply enjoyed watching a spy thriller holo, whether or not it was historically accurate. It had all the elements to entertain the younger mind, rarely bothering with the drudgery and less-glamorous details of realistic intelligence works. Dispensing with the blander aspects, the holo contained everything that would entrap Leea's attention, intrigue, romance, betrayal, and action. By the conclusion, Leea found herself at the edge of her seat.

To calm herself, the Mirialan retired to her bunk room. Turning on her holoterminal, she fell into her chair and tapped away at the keys until text displayed. She continued her readings of Mandalorian culture and systems. The information wasn't presented in the most interesting of manners, it was quite bland actually, but she found it necessary to continue these studies. There was a lot to learn before she felt comfortable in her armour.

It wasn't long before an interruption appeared in the form of a message blaring over the comms. "Bloody- What is that?" Putting her hands to her ears for a moment she tapped to lower the volume on the ship comms to less splitting levels. Assuming it was some message intended for Talohn, perhaps a person seeking a mercenary or something of that ilk, Leea tapped on the console and pulled up the ship's comm array controls. Typing in the passwords she reduced the comm output in the living quarters, hoping that the sound had not disturbed Monari. Got to remember to get a sensor for the speakers on this thing. Make it a little easier on myself. Leea pulled up the message and watched for a moment. Scratching absent-mindedly, she listened through the usual emergency message bits of information that didn't really mean anything to her. Names, positions, titles, even locations were all unnecessary in the conveyance of a bounty. Then again, she realized, this sounds more like a distress beacon. Will Talohn want to help out? Unaware of the meaning of Geonosian Queens, aside from some rather strange mental images of giant Killiks in flowery gowns sipping wine and conversing on the weather, the pilot had no idea of the danger this little sentence proposed. This isn't my decision to make. Leea told herself, after all Talohn was the captain and he would have already seen the message. So, once the message concluded, Leea tried to push the thoughts of concern from her mind as she switched the terminal back to the bare manuscripts and continued reading. Maybe one of these days I'll get to start reading the actual Mando language, maybe read these in their original format? Still a long way off I guess.

------

Minutes later, summoned by a comm notification, Leea stepped into the common area of their home ship. Relaxing into a chair, she kept herself ready, certain that it was no coincidence that there was a meeting so soon after the message appeared. The Cathar opened the conversation, after having reviewed the holomessage, in a rather simple explanation. Ultimately, it was an interesting, if unnecessary, background to his final decision to take to the source of this distress beacon. She nodded at the suggestion that the big droid in their midst stay to protect the ship. "I'm sure we'll be fine em-el, you'll get the next fight I'm sure." She spoke as cheerfully as she could, wondering what sort of horrors might lie in a station like the one they would all too soon be visiting.

Leea had made sure, some time ago, that the ship had some form of auto-piloting set to take the ship back to the Enclave, just in case something did happen to them. Many a misadventure had taught her to prepare for the worse while hoping for brighter outcomes. More importantly, though, the Mirialan had shared the important parts of activating the program with Madlad. Not that she doubted anyone else's ability to pilot the vessel, rather it was a matter of convenience and assurance that even Monari might be able to safely activate the measures needed to take her back to safety.

The way Talohn spoke about this thing, Leea almost wondered if each of the organic members should have some sort of kill switch put on them. 'Just in case' sort of situations were not her forte, and she was pretty certain that such a mechanism may be a little too dangerous for their current operation. Putting aside these ideas, she reminded herself that this wasn't going to be too dangerous. They were armed and armoured better than most people; scientists and their guardians were not well known for their overwhelming firepower after all.

------

The young warrior prepared herself quickly. Dressed in the specially made beskar armour, a gift from Talohn upon her entrance into the Enclave as a Mandalorian. Leea found some comfort in the metal plating, despite its less than natural feel on her skin. A ground pounder for most of her life off her homeworld, she had been accustomed to the wearing of fatigues and some light armour. Mandalorian tradition differed quite a bit from this, the beskar was heavy, although the actuated suit limited the effect of this weight on her experience, and it was still somewhat strange to wear a suit that so totally covered her skin in preparation for battle.

Lifting her pistol from the chest at the foot of her bunk, Leea gazed at it for a moment, searching for some spot she had missed cleaning or imperfection that might preclude it from the coming conflict. The metal was clean and reflected the white light of her room, micro-scratches were made visible in this light, not a concern at this point, but something she would keep an eye on in case they grew worse. Holstering the light arm on her hip, Leea repeated the short process on her rifle housed nearer to the hangar. While she had slept many a cold night with her weapons under her pillow, or whatever approximate for a pillow she might have been able to find on some of the rougher worlds, Leea had never found it particularly comfortable. There had been some times where she worried herself all night about slipping and losing the weapon in a half-awake stupor as some emergency developed. Living on a ship had afforded her the freedom to house her personal weapon in a safe location while still keeping something nearer to her living area.

She made her way to the old freighter, her first home since Makeb. Not the prettiest ship by any stretch, it had been her introduction to Talohn's family and the beginning of her employment. Out of habit, the pilot made her way to the cockpit and settled into the copilot chair as Talohn was already working through pre-launch and lift-off procedures. Leea allowed the furred captain to continue, while she ran through a check on the various systems. It hadn't been more than a few months since last she gave the ship a check and some basic maintenance. Baby's still new enough to not have too many problems. Parts are still easy to get. Dread what it will be in a decade or so though...

As the station came into view, the sheer enormity of the beastly place struck Leea. How could they hope to stop anyone, let alone everyone who might enter? A person could enter anywhere if they were willing to break into the place. "How do we find people? Just going to head in guns blazing, or break out some of the old scanners to try and locate people directly?" She raised her helmet and pulled it tightly over her head, hearing the seals squeak as they began cycling and cleansing the air. "What's the play?"

Talohn Atar Zlova Rue A ARS VAMI Cyran Vaas Voices of The Deep

 

[Zlova Rue]

The red Twi'lek gave Leea a dubious look when she proposed watching a holodrama together. At least until the green woman described it as being some kind of espionage thriller. Whatever that meant. The espionage part though suggested Zlova should give it a chance. Besides, it was hanging out with Leea and Talohn, which was the proper thing to do (especially with it being her 'turn')... if she wanted to be more than the aloof Sith with no friends. So, with a smile, the Lethan accepted and had Leea take the lead to their doom.

Actually, the holodrama hadn't been that bad in the end. Not exactly intellectually stimulating or historically accurate -- and Zlova would know, though not as well as the Old Republic -- but entertaining. A relaxing time for them to just kick back and do nothing. And that had been a hell of a thing the first time her 'family' had the Twi'lek sit down and do nothing. And despite what some people said, mindless activities were nothing like clearing your thoughts to meditate.

After the holodrama ended, with Talohn off to the helm to calibrate the guns -- honestly -- and Leea wandering off, Zlova made for her meditative chamber. Not to meditate, of course. Had enough mindless activity recently. There were a few holocrons to study and some historical records to review. Most people couldn't tell with the Lethan running around waving her blades, getting drunk, and offending half the galaxy by being alive... but the Sith-Mandalorian did a great deal of scholarly work. Uncovering secrets of the past in order to learn the whereabouts of powerful artifacts or hidden truths... Hopefully before the looters did. It was a hobby of sorts.

Unlike the rest, Zlova hadn't heard a thing until she pressed a button on the comm unit inside her chamber. That's when the Cat called her to the main room to discuss some 'message' they'd received. When Talohn offered Zlova her own space for Sith-y things, she'd coaxed the cute urchin to help rig the intercom so it'd only make noise when she allowed it to do so. Nothing was worse than your scholarly study or Sith alchemy getting interrupted at a pivotal moment. Wouldn't want to tear any holes in the fabric of space, would we?

"Marrow Born?" Zlova squinted as she echoed the name. "I knew of a Lady Marrow. She -- it? -- was in the Empire. Kept tinkering with its own appearance. Doesn't seem like she has anything in common with the creatures in this message, unless they're being slowly digested."

With a shrug Zlova relented to thee Cathar's demand. "Alright, I'll wear the armor. I don't want Fungus touching me anyway." Less chance of something getting through both Force and Physical protection measures, right? Not that armor was her favorite thing in the galaxy to wear. Fortunately, Talohn had made it just for her so it fit like a bodyglove -- as it should on a Sith. There was even armor for her precious and sensitive lekku.

So with a few matters tended, the group headed off to get ready for a walk in the Valley of Death... or whatever the ship in question was called.

A short while later they boarder Talohn's little freighter and... Golden eyes narrowed at the sight. Had Talohn just blown off a visible layer of dust from the controls? When had this become a suicide mission? Yet despite the unkempt state internally, the little ship managed to sail out of the hanger without exploding or having the front fall off. Wonders never ceased.

Zlova lingered in the background as Talohn and Leea took care of piloting the ship. Not that the Twi'lek was inexperienced with flying by far, but they handled that which left Zlova to handle the butchering. Talohn and her, really, but Zlova was capable of a little extra butchering so no one else had to get their hands "dirty." Like the rest the size of the station was quite impressive, though no comment was issued upon their arrival. No, her thoughts were on such a place having far too many lifeforms to kill if it came down to it. Much fun as slaughtering the masses could be... even a monster could get overrun with sufficient numbers.

The play? As the ship slid into position and the ramp was lowered, Zlova looked over at Leea. "We blow up the damn ship." Well, the ship and the station really. Unless someone on the ship wanted to say they were fine and just coasting nearby because who didn't love investigating a distress beacon demanding they blow up the station? Everyone was infected, they all needed to die, solution was simple -- kill them all quickly and with as little fuss as possible. "Rig the power plant." Could also toss it into a star, but unless someone had a Hammerhead or Star Destroyer on hand...? Maybe a Super Star Destroyer with this thing's size.

Talohn Atar | Leea Pandac | Cyran Vaas | Voices of The Deep | A ARS VAMI

 

[Voices of The Deep]

As often as one might try to part ones thoughts from the terrible, bleak realities that surround us it seems eventually all those worries and all those harsh truths come crashing down eventually. Blood warming the womans flesh as it trickled down her wound and a hand drifted from the console control of the ship. Azure eyes shimmering ever so gently in the dark as the emergency systems to the ship went black, power fully being devoured by the bizarre creatures that had boarded onto the ship before her departure. And here Kali thought she was in the clear now she was trapped in a floating hunk of metal.

None of that mattered now however, the transmission, it was out and now all she could hope for was that someone responsible received the message and would see to the deed. The stations destruction was imperative and if neglected would only grow to become a danger. If not for the unknown lifeform aboard, then for the terrible research and mysterious technologies gathered aboard. Part of her did not know why she did it, why she accepted the invitation. Bought into the madness and took the job, looking back at it now Kali felt foolish. But god, the funding of her research, the extravagance of it all was enough to make her lust for the excitement of truly cutting edge science and discoveries. For people like her, it was like a dream.

And like all dreams...eventually you had to wake up. And as her cold, shaking body shuddering from the sharp pin-like sensation across her flesh Kali considered falling asleep here, a captain going down with their ship.

Eyes drifted longingly towards the horizon when suddenly, just as dark closed in a flicker of light appeared.

Literally, the engines of another ship flaring by the deck and causing a stir of life from the scientist.

"Un-karking-believable~" She wheezed weakly with a simple chuckle. Lifting a hand to gleam upon the bracelet on her wrist. "Its a sign old girl. Ya ain't dead yet~" She murmured. "Well c'mon then hero, come get your damsel~" she joked, lifting a handheld communicator that still had juice and sending out a direct transmission to Cyran Vaas . "Please tell me your a strapping, handsome and in a heroic mood?" She greeted with grin.

The station gleamed with pristine purpose. Each inch of the station so highly perfected in its design that those who found themselves drawn to its light would undoubtedly be dumbfounded by the sheer scale of the mysterious creation that drifted alone in the deep. Awaiting those who pulled their ships towards the Stem of the station to board their ships onto the docking bay would be what some could only describe as a massive greeting area. Droids zipped through the air back and fourth and small transport pods carried men and women of different kinds from one section of the station to the other, everyone dwarfed by an incredibly massive statute what was even visible from the docking bay of the stem.

The newcomers would be welcomed to Titan by what appeared to be an assistant droid that managed those who entered the stem to find their way about the rest of the station. The droid waving from behind its titanium shielded booth and focusing its vision on the ships opening ramps to see who all had come. The great glass doors allowing clear visibility to the grandeur of the rest of the station, only separated by impressive looking gates as the droid waiting waited patiently.

Many inhabitants of the station however immediately took notice of the new ships docking in the stem, and while some kept their attention on them from their many hidden positions within the populated crowds others appeared to go about their typical business or work. Some with friends or co workers, others in groups and eating or shopping at the many tourist attractions the Stem provided as a getaway from the other panels of the massive station. But many of the details were blocked behind the gates in which needed to be opened by the greeting droid.​

Talohn Atar | Sergeant Omen | Leea Pandac | Siv Dragr | Marlon Sularen | Maestus | Natoadia ​

 

[Talohn Atar]

After he sets the boarding ramp to open, Talohn leans back in his seat to take a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. Whatever would be within the station wouldn't be welcoming. His helmet's audio receivers pick up words from the others, but he takes a moment to respond. However, Zlova's words make him nod slightly. "If we can't find a way to sever the control, we wipe whatever is causing this, along with this entire station, from existence." That was an oddly dark choice for Talohn to make, Leea would notice. Though it was easy to tell it wasn't one he made easily. Indeed, lives would be lost. However, if the control couldn't be removed....death was better than enslavement. Blowing up the station would, in a horrid twist, be an act of mercy.

The cathar stands up from his seat, arching his back to stretch for a few moments before he turns about to exit the control room. His hurried pace takes him through the main area of the ship, and the mandalorian armor clad figure can be seen coming down the ramp, armed to the teeth. It was a rare occasion that Talohn was willing to get out the disruptor settings for his weaponry, typically he avoided it due to the religious beliefs of his catharese clan. Once at the bottom of the ramp, he stops to gaze about the hangar, and the commons area past it. People were going about their business...acting normal. Judging by the message that he received, this was bad. Really bad. Talohn would have found it more comforting if the station was decrepit and full of mind controlled zombies. Assuming these people were effected, it showed that whatever was causing this had the most terrifying ability of all. It had the intelligence to make it's subjects blend in. This could NOT be allowed to leave the station. He looks back at his two companions. "Keep your helmets on. We don't know the true nature of what's going on here."

It's then that Talohn's attention would be drawn by Cyran Vaas, an obviously new arrival. The mandalorian waves to gain the fellow's attention. Once it's attained, he speaks up. "Make sure to keep a helmet on! We don't know what's causing all this." Just some friendly advice. It was the fellow's fault if he got mind controlled and Talohn had to shoot him later. Whether the man responds or not, he once again turns to face Zlova and Leea.

"Security's still up....How do we handle this?" He questions, this time speaking through comms instead of openly. He was expecting the ship to be more.....dead.

Zlova Rue Leea Pandac Cyran Vaas Voices of The Deep

 

[Zlova Rue]

Much as it pained Zlova to do so, the Twi'lek had donned beskar'gam to get the seal her Cathar demanded for the mission. Fortunately, the Sith wasn't completely powerless on the matter nor her Talohn particular deaf toward her wishes. Her wishes hadn't even been particularly outrageous -- ignoring the 'joke' about wanting a bikini of beskar. Just a red visor so everyone knew the armored lekku belonged to the one and only vile monster among them, Zlova Rue. Wouldn't want vod shooting the wrong Twi'lek in the back in a misguided effort to 'end the Sith threat among us.' Not that anyone would ever do that. But, if they did, Zlova wouldn't be surprised because that's what she'd lived her entire life expecting -- betrayal.

A half-hearted wave of one hand followed Talohn reminding them not to remove their helmets.

Zlova regarded Talohn for just a moment as he asked how they should handle the situation. Far as she was concerned nothing had changed. If the place was under some kind of biological contagion then they blew it up. Just because there were people walking about didn't mean Zlova would be paralyzed with indecision.

That was later. At that very moment there was only one thing to do.

The armored Twi'lek started forward without saying anything. Her course took her toward the droid that stood or sat waiting for the 'visitors.' Customs. Dockmasters. Always a pain.

When she drew close Zlova stopped to look over at the transparent doors for a moment. Then her attention swung to the droid in the titanium shielded booth. "Hey. Station looks busy. Lots of mouths to feed, huh? So, what do you want to let us in?"

Zlova turned her head slightly to look back at Talohn. "How else do we handle it? We asked to get inside and check out the local establishments. Haven't come all this way to turn back." What if it was a trap? They killed everyone involved and got on with the mission. Nothing really to talk about except for how quickly everything would begin to fall apart -- which Zlova wasn't hastening along by talking about receiving weird communiques, being surprised people were alive, or standing around in a hanger bay like they've never been to a space station before.

Talohn Atar | Leea Pandac | Voices of The Deep

 

[Cyran Vaas]

After parking his light freighter against a docking ring of the frigate. As he did he heard over the ships comms a message coming from the frigate. Hearing the words of a woman, that sounded similar to the previous transmission. Hearing their words he couldn’t help but smirk. If all goes well he wouldn’t hear the end of it from his droid companion. Pressing a button in his ships cockpit he replied to the direct transmission. “Even with a narrow description like that, I’ll say you’re in luck m’lady. Hang tight will, ya.” He said before forwarding the transmission to his helmet’s comms.

Putting on his helmet he continued speaking. “There we go, now let's see if you can’t lead me to your location. And maybe give me a heads up for what I’m getting myself into.” Cyran said as he made his way out of his ship's cockpit and checked his equipment a final time as he got to the docking ring on the side of his ship. Unholstering his force pike and holding it in one hand like a blade before turning it onto his lower stun setting. Feeling himself ready he opened the door from his ship and stepped into the frigate proper before closing and locking the door behind him to his personal ship.

Cyran really had no idea what he was getting into but was cautious and kept his senses sharp along with keeping a close eye on the sensory equipment built into his armor. Speaking into his comms he would ask. “Hey, why don’t we start things off with you telling me we’re you’re holding up so I know where to start going, as well as if there’s anyone else you’re aware of that could use a daring rescue.”

Voices of The Deep | Zlova Rue | Talohn Atar | Leea Pandac

 

[Leea Pandac]

"Blow up the station?" Leea whispered, her breath catching as she tried to consider what that might mean. Logistically, such an endeavour be no mean feat. Having seen the inordinate size of the station on their approach, the Mirialan feared the many hours that it might take to locate and reach the generators. If they had to fight their way through hordes of controlled corpses, then that time might easily extend. Yet, to the young pilot, the logistical nightmare was less important and pertinent than the moral aspect. The idea of wholesale slaughter of civilians brought a nauseating sensation to Leea, despite its apparent necessity. Fighting through waves of undead seemed daunting, if only because of the taxing effort, but killing any potentially safe people was more disturbing and gutwrenching.

Leea followed the two warriors out of the ship, preparing herself for a similar experience to the last time she had dealt with the undead. In her mind's eye, she imagined tight corridors, dim to no lighting, and the crush of cold, unthinking bodies. The scene that came to her as she stepped off the loading ramp could not have been more different. The station's lighting was normal, bright even, and the sounds of civilization were apparent everywhere. Her helm's filtration system largely obviated any of the smells that might have been in the air, but the Mirialan could almost imagine the scent of cleaning agents, the aroma of a veritable cornucopia of foods, and that everpresent odour of trade stations. At first, Leea felt almost overstimulated, having prepared herself for military action in an almost derelict combat zone, yet this place was living as living could get. Her gaze gravitated to the common area beyond the security gate, a station of gargantuan proportion stood beyond. "Wonder what that is about?"

Talohn's warning reminder about their helmets brought Leea's attention back to the moment and situation. She found herself quite uncertain about this mission. Speaking on the comms as Zlova pushed to talk with the droid, Leea asked, "Are we sure the info was accurate? These people look pretty normal. Maybe someone was messing or trying to sabotage the station?"

Talohn Atar Zlova Rue Cyran Vaas Voices of The Deep