Rebellion Ekibyō no tengoku: Blackwing Virus | Rebellion of Atrisia

[Darth Empyrean]

Location: Crashing in Xam'Chi
Friends: Srina Talon │ John Locke │ Eira Talon
Enemies: Slaad │ Darth Immortuos │ Xenro

Xam’Chi burned - septic and pestilent as it were, a thousand and more lost their lives in the blink of an eye; spreading ever faster as the weaponized Blackwing managed to disperse, potent and virulent. Beautiful black orchids carrying the undying fate of flesh falling from bone, and the rich still abandoned the poor in droves; just as Maliphant and Srina flew about, to save the most influential of them. In the dim artificial light of the gunship, Maliphant could sense that darkness - knew that what came was something he had never experienced for, and something he could sense a vague fear for.​

​

If his defenses fell for even a second, for anyone on board, they would not survive. This nagging anxiety would not be expressed through his face however, but Srina would feel that slight pain through their connection, sense the slight worry. Just as she knew what they were in store for, Maliphant could sense exactly that.​

​

His lips rested on her forehead, and he wrapped his arms around her - pulling her tightly into an embrace. While she could feel that uncertainty, there was an anchor among it; it was comfort, confidence yet that they would manage despite the nagging radio chatter in the next room implying that nobody else was.​

​

“We will survive.”, he repeated.​

​

“I’ll die long before I let this take anyone on board… Especially you.”​

​

It was an ominous promise, but one he fully intended to keep. Maliphant had never felt that kind of selfless devotion before, and for Srina… He would be a slave to his feelings. His eyes clenched, he tightened his grip on her - but before he could speak again, chaos began to erupt.​

​

“Sakura-3, please repeat - You’re under attack by what?”, the pilot asked - his gaze momentarily moving to the co-pilot as they both tried to understand exactly what it meant. In that exact moment, as the ship sped through the towers of Xam’Chi -​

​

A distant battle occured. A man running from his coworkers. A fear and anxiety that spread wide as he pleaded fro his life from friends that no longer lived - and through it all, a quiet acceptance came about him. The man lept from the window - to escape the fate so many succumbed, but the mindless horde that followed would not allow him to escape so easily.​

​

One hundred bodies fell from the two hundredth floor of the Akira Corporate building; and a hundred bodies slammed into the cockpit of the GS-77 the VIPs, Maliphant, and Srina were all onboard; shaking it from its core.​

​

“Kark!”, the pilot cried out as he desperately pulled on the controls, but it was too late. The ship ran into a support column nearby, throwing all on board to the ground in a flurry, and creating a large fracture in the transparisteel.​

​

“Dread Command, we’re going down! I repeat, We’re going down!”, the message for John Locke would come quickly, terror in the pilots voice as Maliphant began to move into action.​

​

Maliphant shuddered on his feet as they slammed into the column, throwing him into the nearest wall; as well with almost all the VIP’s as the ship fell into this cacophony of panic and terror. Blood began to drip from the top of his head, cringing tightly - but in his arms was Srina, safe from the brunt of the strike. He sighed as the vertigo began to set in, and the ship sped to its doom a thousand feet below.​

​

Without spoken word, Maliphant’s hand lifted - and for the dozens onboard, they would find a sudden comfort. Even as the ship plunged, there would be no sensation as Maliphant breathed the Force into each; a compensation for the fall, a quick handicap, and one that he slowly began to make it around each in the room.​

​

Srina first, then those he could see, then those in the back rooms. Every moment that passed, another would be saved - but he was running out of time.​

​

Focus. The only word on his mind as he spread that energy out.​

​

When it came to him, he struggled to let it encapsulate him, gritting his teeth as he tried to rise himself to his feet in a final hope to ground himself - but just as his balance was found;​

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The ship slammed into the ground with an unequal, unforgiving force.​

​

There was the briefest of moments Maliphant could feel that darkness, encapsulating him… Draw on him… Slowly pull him in -​

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But it wasn’t meant to be. His eyes fluttered open to the face of Srina - fear in her eyes. He wanted to lean forward, to wrap his arms around her - he couldn’t understand her words, but he could understand terror; but his muscles wouldn’t react. Pain surged through his body as he tried to lean forward, and it refused to obey.​

​

With ears still ringing, he glanced down to his stomach, and saw the jagged metal jutting through his side. He offered little more than a tired sigh, and an almost ironic smile.​

​

“Funny how that works…”, he offered in a hoarse whisper. He didn't think his promise would have to come so soon.​

 

[Maple Harte]

Wearing: Shadowsuit (Underneath Biohazard Gear)

Armed with:

Uri's Cane

DC-15s Sidearm (Two)

DC-17m (Sniper Attachment)

Dashade Sonic Blaster

Objective: Contain Outbreak, Kill Sith Assassins.


The credits had run dry again and there were no good jobs to be found. None except elite, high paying ones.

They had paid Maple five times her usual fee for going down into a disease zone. They had injected her with enough prototype anti-viral medication to piss a certain disease-obsessed 40K character off and provided a simple, tight fitting biohazard suit to ingress into the infected area.

In this case, the infected area was a good portion of the city. Skip. Maple was playing cards at a table with Palpatine, Maul, and Dooku. Dooku was sweating bullets as he was already 110K in the hole. Maul had obvious tells, and Palpatine was peeking at Maple's cards constantly. Sneaky old rotting feth. Skip. Back into the drop transport with the Other Knights Obsidian.

Maple examined her DC-17m going over final checks. There were a lot of infected in the city, threatening the non-infected parts. This group she was with, clad in their own biohazard suits, had orders to go into one of the most seriously infected areas to investigate a possible Sith Operation taking advantage of the chaos.

The transport descended through the atmosphere and when the hatch opened into a wrecked cityscape, Maple sighed, as she was fond of this world (Poor Nine. Not only was she missing since that chit with the space station that kept launching pylons that raised the dead went down, but she could not defend Atrisia in its time of need.)

Maple was not getting by well. Several bounties, easy ones, had escaped her recently. Chump credits, but her illness had slowly begun to worsen after the events in the Graveyard with the Queen of Commenor...she had hallucinated her bounties to instead be innocent civilians and simply could not take the risk.

It was becoming a struggle to maintain her grip on reality. She lost whole minutes of time. Hours. She should not even be out here in her state of mind but she needed money and resources to kill the Amalgam before she went completely crazy.

Maple had figured, hey, as long as she was in the process of going crazy, why not do something really crazy like drop into a disease infected warzone to murder her a Sith or two and fry some zombies?

She had loaded for the environment. No explosives--that would risk transmitting infected tissues over a wide radius, she had warned the others. Disruptors or headshots only. No close contact if it can be helped.

Intel said Assassins hired by The Rancidus Order were among the Sith present on Atrisia at the moment. What Bothans they had spent to learn this (About a hundred Bothans died to learn this information--cheap expenditure all things considered...) revealed they were setting up for an unholy ritual.

What the Feth is it with Sith and Unholy Rituals?

As the hatch opened, Maple was the first out the transport.

The DC-17m was her single most favorite assault blaster. It did everything. In this case, it was a sniper rifle. The attachment lit up its holographic scope as she aimed, looking for targets.

She soon spotted a number of zombies with red, dripping jaws and decayed flesh. Ah, Zombie-Killing. The Galactic Sport of Choice. Worth a solid thirty experience points apiece. What would we be without such a celebrated artform? How could we level up without crowds of stupid and vicious enemies trying to eat us?

Maple slowed her heart rate, a few quick breaths then squeezed off a shot. The rifle configuration used quarrel ammo enshrouded in energy. It pierced through the brain of a zombie and Maple was that much closer to leveling up. (She planned to take the Close Combat Feat when she did!)

The Zombies ambled along wrecked streets, Atrisia still not fully recovered from the previous recent attempt to turn its brains into silly putty. There had been so many dead, both enemy an ally alike that the virus had spread like wildfire ressurecting them to be the aids to a collective level grind for everyone involved.

The Zombies at last noticed them when a second zombie became another thirty XP for Maple and the Knights following her. She put away the rifle, removing her pistols, and went full hardcore.

She had learned to shoot the infamous Clone Commando pistol from Ursula herself. It had been the moment they had actually become friends as opposed to just Apprentice and Master.

Maple both loved and hated her mentor. It made for odd conflict.

She knew this pistols specifications and internals like she knew just how doomed she was. She knew its fire rate, materials. Even a thousand years later, people still swore by it. Of course, in this kind of galaxy, it doesn't make sense to not have a hand cannon nearby, so maybe that had something to do with it.

You had one of these, you were surviving a slow zombie apocalypse. No question.

You had two of these, you were surviving a fast zombie apocalypse. No Question.

Maple's bolts found heads and reduced them to pulp. The other Knights Obsidian, equipped with the same weapon but in a blaster carbine configuration, started hosing the general direction of the zombies to back her. But they needed scopes. She didn't. Besides, Dual Wielding would not be fun if you needed scopes.

Maple's shots hit every target, alternating between pistols each time she fired in bursts as to essentially maintain a near endless stream of fire on a Zombie hoard that was not so endless. She sweapt the field in front of her, each shot finding a head or targeting the limbs of specific zombies in the fast running army so as to trip up a whole mess of them, allowing the knights behind her to score more XP. All in all she and the squad earned about 9000 XP when it was said and done, though she had scored the most kills.

Maple, wordless, hallucinating Werewolf Obi-Wan howling on a building above her as the smoke from the streets choked the sun's glare, signalled for them to proceed to the ritual site. Maple felt nothing as she stepped over piles of dead. Or at least, she told herself she didn't. Inwardly her stomach twisted at how all these people's lives had been ruined. Skip. Maple was kneeling before Zod. Skip. Back to the streets.

Maple and the knights, hearing the howls of the undead, proceeded with immense caution...

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

C O N T A I N​

Objective: Quarantine Xam'chi
Equipment: Project Xiphos Armor | Modular Tri-Blaster | Micro Light Shield | Bayonet | Cryo Grenade (2) | Fragmentation Grenade (2) | Thermal Detonator (2)
Allied: Damsy Callat | Tobias Wrynn | Maeve Archeron | Anakwor Farlorn | Jasmille Kavos | Jrurki Liz | Allies in Xam'Chi
Enemy: TBD

"Atrisia has a history of open warfare. Far too much strife for such a planet. It could do with more unified leadership," Reinhart remarked as they stood awaiting the General's arrival. Most people might take her meaning to mean stronger, better coordinated, or united in some cause. That wasn't necessarily incorrect, but Tiria actually felt it the world's leadership were literally One -- a part of her -- so much bloodshed could be avoided. In fact, she felt that about a great many worlds. There was a great deal of strife and chaos in the galaxy. Not that any of the planets would openly embrace her.

Likely, no one present besides Luna probably knew Tiria's 'true nature' or capability. Something about a 'Force sensitive' person being among the Dauntless, and keeping it to Tiria's self. Not that she had known her mind-link was something related to the Force -- the Dauntless had simply seemed a pleasing facet of the faction to join. Their weapons and personnel were useful to study, incorporate, and one day hopefully use to extract revenge.

As she stood there 'chatting,' other vessels of Tiria kept an eye on other Commandos or soliders here and elsewhere in the galaxy. Tiria held her shoulders back and head high not out of tension, but because she didn't know any other posture. Likely a manifestation of a number of veterans or professional hunters she'd Joined. If anything, she was quite relaxed. Few could say they were literally in more than one place at a time; it took a burden off one's mind not to wonder what might be happening elsewhere.

After a short while, the General made herself known and launched into their briefing. Tiria's dark eyes watched the other woman attentively, interested in the intelligence she held about the upcoming operation.

Pandemic. Transmission vector unknown. Time before onset of symptoms unspecified. Mortality rate not disclosed. From the sound of it, the intelligence branch didn't have anything to go on. Not even what the symptoms were. That was troublesome to say the least. There was so little to go on, Tiria couldn't even rely on herselves to analyze it or check in any databases to better understand what they were throwing themselves into.

One thing that she did surmise, however, was whatever it was it was moving fast. Strange that the R0 would be so high. It would be practically unheard of... the incubation period would have to be incredibly short, and the transmission vector would need to be active. Even airborne it would take time and move with the wind, which Intel would have conveyed -- save the people downwind before the direction of the wind changed.

Captain Reinhart looked aside at the rest present. "Something with intent is spreading the disease. Do not let anyone get too close, and watch each others' backs."

A medical injector or a blade coated in some form of toxin? Either way, if they let people get too close whoever was behind this might try to use that for cover. They all needed to be prepared and trust no one.

 

[BX-72967-RAZOR]

Location: Jar'Kai - Exterior
Theme: All Out - Gundam IBO

Spoiler: Tag

Accompanying: Vytal Noctura , Taiia Locke , Shamira Karuto + Open
General Tag: Junko Ike , Credius Nargath , Xenro , Kyyrk , Kirk Tektus, Mythos , Gessethya Helfyld, Xobos Yakieer , Darth Miseria, Kas Varad , WelshPsych , Kurenai Yumi , Caedyn Arenais, Slaad , John Locke , Darth Empyrean , Srina Talon , @Sergie "Jack" Jachovich, Cypher Rage, Kaden Farr , Asaraa Vaashe , Darth Assimilus , Daisy Americus , Gianna Aegis , Luna Terrik , Eira Talon

Remember.

When the modern Confederacy was yet an infant, dubious steps had been taken to arm itself. In those days, the nation did not possess the means to place a fleet at the far corners of the Galaxy, and thus had to resort to more creative means for protection. It was such efforts that had first brought Razor back into Confederate hands. Before that, it...had been a casualty. It was not blaster bolts that had laid the Commando low, but a change in regime. It, like countless others, was decommissioned and dumped on Raxis Prime to rot.

That is, until its Spark was rekindled.

BX-72967 awoke to find itself in a long assembly line alongside similar models. All recovered from the cesspools of acidic rains and sewage. BX-72967 awoke knowing nothing, save what its audioreceptors could perceive over the roar of hammer and furnace. The Confederacy had risen anew and it had been chosen - saved - to fight. BX-72967 was not expected to devote any semblance of processing power towards "trivial" ventures. In the past, it might have been decommissioned for taking such liberties. Yet, not a question was raised as it initiated the download. Not a word was uttered when the personality matrix became engrained into its core systems.

On that day, BX-72967 of the Separatists became Razor - and He would always devote the memory to recall his mission: Be. Useful.

And from that day, his battles were numerous. Some more terrifying and gruesome than the next. If he had been an organic, he might have had nightmares when it powered down each evening. It might have felt butterflies in its stomach as the present day began to unfold. It might have felt that iconic chill race down its chassis: fear. Yet, the directive tied to its very identity ran louder than even its sub-routines. Be. Useful. Its transmission had been but an ember, yet as the walls of Jar'Kai loomed before, the effect was that of an inferno.

Transmissions flooded the Confederate network from on high and abroad. Razor and its battalion held their position, opting not to advance on the source of those guttural cries it witnessed only moments before. Rather, its logic circuitry demanded that further information be gathered. NAVCOM. The Knights Obsidian. The Commonwealth. All were racing headlong against a threat they knew next to nothing about. Only data would allow them to form a proper strategem. Thus, Razor played to its strengths.

"Probes Away."

A small chorus of Roger Roger erupted on either side of the Commando as his Battalion followed its directive. Those which had been equipped to carry such, a grand minority of its command in truth, primed and released the orb-like automatons skyward. Repulsors primed and initiated, bearing them at an impressive pace to a level surpassing the walls. Some advanced forward, others moved to orbit the perimeter. Yet, regardless of the direction, the "bird's eye" view was fed to the battalion below. And, more importantly, relayed to the Confederate Forces.

In the beginning, Razor had the personal combat record to address. His processors ran through the footage at an alarming rate, identifying that the organics it could see did not share the same identifying marks as the Atrisian citizenry. There was a divine lack of raven hair and almond eyes. Moreover, these were far from gilded souls. The Confederates knew well enough slavery when it was recorded - Razor knew well enough. It had been on enough raids to identify the sighs.

Before it could perceive more from the feed, orders began to flood in from on high and abroad. The Minister of Science, John Locke , had tasked Razor personally with assisting an incoming ally.

“BX-72967, take your forces to try to meet up with the Night mother to protect her from threats while she attempts to breach the protection around Jar’kai."​

The Minister would receive a formal Roger Roger in response. Razor's offhand rose to direct two squads to form and meet the Nightmother and the Obsidian personnel upon their landing. Even as the Obsidian host joined them at Jar'Kai's exterior, there was not yet a true introduction between Razor and the Obsidian Lord. Instead, he and his subordinates took their orders to the letter and were on standby as the Force itself was unleashed. For Razor, this was the first time in its combat experience that such a display had ever been recorded.

Adding New File: Nightmother-Noctura.txt
Assessment: Probability of requiring unit BX-72967's protection...-10%

While it spared the microsecond to log its assessment for the future, it was the words uttered after the Wall of Light had been addressed which caused the Commando to move. At first, its steps began forward, as if to lead the way into the unknown of Jar'Kai. Yet, a fresh alert beeped within the feed. The Probes had witnessed movement. Lots of movement. Razor's arm raised - this time directed at the Obsidians specifically. "Wait." It began. To demand anything of the Knights Obsidian, especially since their chains of command had become separated, was generally unheard of. Beyond this, the Minister's directive clearly alluded to their intended mission: breach Jar'Kai.

So what was it that gave the Droid pause? Stepping lively, it joined the Nightmother's side. Its photoreceptors blazed a fresh hue - the stream of data projecting as an azure hologram as best as it could reproduce. The distance from wall to surface was far - but despite the obstacles. They could see. The monstrosity which strode so confidently among the slaves. The transformations amidst the miasma. The sheer numbers. The tanks, walkers, and more.

When finally the fresh information was relayed, Razor ensured that the details were fed once more to the Confederate channels. From Kyyrk and Credius Nargath in orbit above the world, to Xobos Yakieer , Darth Miseria, and Luna Terrik who were yet en route, to Kirk Tektus and Cypher Rage at Waru Tower, to Srina Talon and Darth Empyrean ferrying the VIPs, to even the Obsidians Asaraa Vaashe and Kurenai Yumi . For the first time since the outbreak began, they would have a first glance at what they were up against.

And Razor's prime directive shone through once again. Be. Useful.

Observation: Contact 72 hours ago saw multiple forces coming from Jar'Kai. Previous intel is obselete, Jar'Kai is not deserted. Observation: Organic presence inside Jar'Kai are not Commonwealth. Assessment: Organic population inside Jar'Kai is Hostile. Conclusion: Defoliation. Its words were directed to the Nightmother, and by extension her Obsidian subordinates within earshot. "Recommendation: Protective measures from unknown mutagenic threat."

Then, a transmission to the one who had stepped up to coordinate their efforts on the surface.

"Minister Locke. Requesting deployment of DDTs from local assets to Jar'Kai. Assessment: Forward Operating Base under Kirk Tectus is closest facility bearing asset. Objective: Defoliation of Hostile organics. Permission to acquire and deploy?"

Be. Useful. Protect the Nightmother. Clear Jar'Kai.

Yet little did the Commando know that, at the instant of his transmission, a frantic plea would be sent to Dread Command. One of the most important souls to the Confederacy - the Exarch herself - was tumbling from the skies.

In this, Razor was too far away and too powerless to do...anything. Yet here, before the Gates of Hell? It could Be. Useful.​

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Location: Xam'chi Streets - On the Move
Allies: Confederacy of Independent Systems & Friends
Tag: Mishel Kryze ​

Alessandra hadn’t had any time to herself as of late. That was why a cup of Atrisian tea in a quiet upscale café in the heart of Xam'chi was a breath of fresh air. She was careful which blend she chose. One of them, seriously expensive, seemed to have a light sided aura that made her shy away. It reminded her of the effects of the Nexus on Monastery and a soft whisper in the Force told her that it wasn’t safe for consumption. The Confederacy had all sorts of business in the capital today, including, but not limited to reaching out for trade contracts.​

​

Exarch Talon had already spoken with Junko Ike and the Atrisian Delegation. Trade, fair and equal, was definitely on the table. That moved the discussion further in her direction as far as the political climate went. Raven hair fell around her shoulders whilst she tapped idly on a data-pad. Constant streams that dictated the rise and fall of stocks, often, with promotions for the IGBC, and the Minister of Commerce did her best to stay on top of it.​

​

In the distance, she heard some sort of alarm. She tilted her head up—But didn’t give it much credence.​

​

It was a Capital City. Xam’chi was progressive, but, that didn’t mean there weren’t issues. The Malvern Queen went back to sipping her tea while working. Part of her felt adrift. She missed her son. Her husband. But this was the tradeoff. They could keep their work with the Confederacy, however, they rarely went into the field at the same time. It ensured that Aries always had one parent with him.​

​

A sudden chill began to spread up her spine. It was slow, like rising smoke, but poignant enough that she set her teacup down back in the gilded saucer. A moment later the warning from John Locke came across her datapad in glaring letters.​

“All Confederacy forces, this is Minister Locke on Atrisia issuing a priority alert. We have a situation developing on the planet, a sickness of some kind has been unleashed on the planet. At this time we have no choice but to believe that this is an attack against the planet. All Confederacy forces in the area are hereby ordered to proceed towards the planet with maximum haste, all forces on the ground please report in. Our first priority is to prevent the spread of this virus, whatever it is. At the current time, I am issuing a quarantine order. Lockdown the cities, the communities. Until we know what’s going on until we know what the situation on the planet is we can’t risk this spreading. Take maximum precautions to protect yourself.”

Her teeth ground together. Great. Chocolate eyes sharpened as she stood abruptly to gather her things. A messenger bag, her datapad, and her comm. She left a few credits on the table and turned to call in her position to John Locke . “I landed a few hours ago. Something in happening in Xam’chi, but, I’m not sure what. I’m heading back toward my ship.”​

​

She didn’t trust the accommodations in this world. Mostly, because she didn't know them. No sooner had she ended the transmission that the cold feeling returned. It was fraught with pain, fear, and an undeniable hunger. A thousand maws reaching for fresh, bloody, flesh. Sinew tore. Bone shattered. So achingly—Hungry. Her eyes snapped up in time to see a dark shape throw itself at her. A man, or, it used to be. Hands grasped at her while they went through the glass and tumbled out onto the permacrete. Alessandra scrambled backward and rolled away. Glass bit into her skin, but it wasn’t her main concern, as her attacker was also finding its footing.​

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What in the he—​

​

It charged at her before she could finish the thought. It had a limp. The knee had been kicked in such a way that it almost looked like his joints had reserved. The skin was ashen, deathly pale, with a shade of green headed toward the hairline. Eyes yellow. Blood fell from its maw. A scream from somewhere down the street caught its attention and when it turned sharply to the side, reacting to the noise, she realized she could see daylight through its cheeks. Only ligaments help it together.​

​

The stench. It was rotten—Dead.​

​

Alessandra swore. Unladylike, loud, and against her will. She remembered a variety of instances in which corpses had reanimated in the past. Sith magic, viruses, netherworld escapees, infected bacta, etc…The list went on and on. Only one thing about it rang true in her head. It was never good.​

​

Never. ​

​

Alessandra reached behind her back and pulled an ELG-3A blaster pistol from the holster at her side and began moving away from the creature at a good clip. She had a standard lightsaber tucked away in her messenger bag, but, she didn’t want to get close enough to use it. Distance. She glanced down at her clothes. They were torn. She was bleeding.​

​

Chit. Chit.​

​

She hit her comm again and hailed the Confederacy again [ John Locke | Luna Terrik ] through emergency channels. On top of that, there was something, someone, familiar to her. She could feel a pull that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Her chest tightened. She hadn’t felt her half-sister in so long, so very long, that it was unfathomable for her to show up now. Here. Alessandra willed her away.​

​

‘Don’t come here, Mishel. If it’s you…Don’t come here.’​

​

The Minister took a deep breath while she kept moving, swiftly, headed toward the spaceport. She had to call it in. No choice. Chit. ​

​

“This is Alessandra Malvern. The sickness…It’s definitely a threat. Bio-weapon, perhaps. It looks familiar. Whatever it is…”, she paused, briefly, to quell the rising nausea, “—I may already have it.” ​

 

[Kirk Tektus]

Location: Waru Operations Base
Wearing: Officer Uniform
Tagging: Cypher Rage
​

Before Kirk could put an order to the comms officer to contact the minister, she received instructions from Minister Locke through BX-72967 and stood before the two officers. "Sirs, we have orders from the Minister to deploy DDTs to provide artillery support for the incursion into Jar'Kai. Transmitting them to you now."

The commander and the marshal received the orders on their data pads and Kirk was starting to formulate a plan. "Alright, we should have a couple DDTs on standby in the vehicle bay. We can transport them to the outskirts of the city." Kirk said as he looked at the holomap and focused it on the area surrounding Jar'Kai as the junior officers and tactical droids crowded the map. "There's a hillside that overlooks the city its the southeast. We'll have the high ground advantage and have better overwatch over the city. We'll set up a command post there to coordinate with other units in the area and our artillery strikes to ensure their accuracy. We'll have a perimeter of B1s, B2s, and automated defenses to fend off any attackers to our position." He then paused to allow the marshal to chime in.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Mežsrožu's modified ship pushed through the chaos of the Confederacy's ships, "stay here." She ordered her Stormtroopers, "I mean it, Blackwing is not a game, I've seen it and I know what it can do. DT-1884, drop me as close to Xam-Chi as you can then get the hell out of here." Mežsrožu was uncharacteristically chatty, and it felt as if she wasn't in full control. A flicker of hazel-green erupted from within the sea of sulfur. "You get to Mephout now, and tell them to ready their quarantine sites."​

​

She remembered them from when the First Order had to deal with a Blackwing infection on Seoul and Mephout in the past. "Get ahold of Moffs Yvarro and Terrix, we'll have incoming." Officially she wasn't with the First Order, unofficially Mishel was going to use every single lifeline she knew of to save her sister, the Confederacy and their ilk be damned. The two personalities of Mežsrožu and Mishel fought as the small ship punched through the Atrisian atmosphere. ​

​

"Alright, think you can jump? I don't wanna risk setting off the AA." DT-1884 stated, "or... whatever the hell's down there from getting in here."​

​

"This is fine, open the ramp, and 84? Did you hear me?"​

​

"Yes, I got you, we're gettin' the hell out Ren."​

​

"HEY!" 0195 rushed for Mežsrožu and grabbed her by the arm, "so what, you're gonna go down there and what? Wrestle every karkin' sithspit on your own?"​

​

Mežsrožu jerked her arm away from 0195 and stared at the covert operative, "if I have to, yes, but I will not leave this planet without my sister or the crystals."​

​

CO-0195 stared at the Ren, and Mežsrožu stared back. "We don't have time for pleasantries, 0195 you have your orders. We cannot be seen taking part in this, we are not friends with the Confederacy but neither are we friends with their aggressors. We must keep a low profile and that means I must go alone." Mežsrožu's voice was heated and yet her eyes lingered on 0195's for a moment longer than she intended and so she tore her gaze away. ​

​

The operative wanted to object, wanted to scream and instead, her fist met the bulkhead and she turned away in frustration. ​

​

Mežsrožu headed for the ramp and was met with the rush of Atrisian wind that carried the stench of death. Without hesitation, she jumped and utilized the Force to soften her landing. Rooftop to rooftop, "where are you..." her voice trailed off as she focused on the Force signature of her sister. Initially, Mežsrožu had been hunting down crystals on the planet - or this was the original intent. At least until she felt the presence of Alessandra Creed , and then it became all but impossible to keep the personality of Mishel under control. ​

​

Mishel started to bleed through the exterior of Mežsrožu, black ooze formed in the empty eye socket creating a cybernetic eye that matched the biological one. She jumped to the streets, with a push of the Force cleared a small three-meter radius around her. She surveyed the landscape around her and cursed the city all at once. Her crossguard lightsaber unsheathed from its holster and looked at the infected that started to approach her. Picked a bad day to give up hookahs... Mishel thought to herself and looked down at the choice of clothing, seriously Mez? The Tygaran tucked the lightsaber back into place as she considered her options. ​

​

The Infected would keep coming and with each push of the Force, Mishel knew it would be futile. She looked up to cast a glance toward the skies to see a ship heading down. The shockwave from the impact sent shudders throughout the city light posts went down and the Tygaran grinned, she ran toward the arcing bolts of electricity and used the energy to jump-start her Force speed abilities. The collapse of buildings that could not withstand the ship's downfall began and Mishel had to kick up her speed. ​

​

Mežsrožu wrestled control away from Mishel but kept the speed going. A spark of sulfur began to eliminate the hazel-green that had taken over. Fire emerged from the speed trail as the dark side oriented personality propelled them through the remains of Xam'Chi. Hang on, Alessandra - I'm getting close. Mežsrožu thought as she could recognize the importance of the woman to Mishel and accepted it.​

​

A flash of fire combined with bolts of lightning turned into a blur, as Mežsrožu searched in the direction that the Force pulled her toward. Alessandra's Force signature was growing stronger, but it was hard to pinpoint, what with the number of people now descending upon the city. Mishel took the opportunity to seize control away from Mežsrožu which resulted in Mishel stumbling over debris and smacking into a permacrete wall. If it hadn't been for her natural ability to shield herself - her face would've been broken in several places. As it stood, Mishel turned her head and even with the blurred vision she could just about decipher Alessandra's form.​

​

Mishel staggered to get to her feet and threw fire at the first set of Infected that approached her. It seemed that Mežsrožu had put in some thought to the dark robes, they were fire resistant and they held up well with the collision into the wall. Mishel's Force reserves were for the moment completely sapped and would take time to recover but she could see Alessandra. "ALE!" She shouted as the strength in the Force signature had become the strongest it had since she arrived. "ALE!"​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Location: Spaceport
Objective: Find Sister, train!
Tags: Eira Talon
Allies: Srina Talon | Darth Empyrean
Enemies: N/A Currently

The wolf found himself once again playing the role of a domesticated beast as Srina Talon found herself away on Confederate business on the world of Atrisia. Gerwald had been tasked by the Exarch to keep her younger sister, Eira Talon under his every watchful eye, provided that he never shifted in front of her. Eira was never to know that Gerwald Lechner and... snowflake... were one in the same.​

​

Niquis was not a bad name, and Gerwald having been a winter borne wolf, he could appreciate the pun. What Gerwald did not appreciate was the insistence he wear a damn ribbon around his neck. The disappointed look which came from the young Echani was enough melt the ice which covered the lakes of Stewjon on their coldest winters.​

​

Gerwald whined. He hated the ribbon, and she knew it.​

​

The ribbon was the least of his problems. Gerwald found himself very aware that Eira preferred to run around in minimal to no clothing. She was an Echani, and the lupine who also stripped to shift would not judge. The conflict was how much the wolf did not care, but the human was well aware that Eira was still the younger sister of his caretaker. Would Srina be upset knowing Gerwald had seen things he likely should not have? If he could he would have, but that would have been an odd sound coming from the grey wolf.​

​

Gerwald simply followed Eira's lead. Though there was something that bothered him. The planet looked nothing like a world Siran would have invited her sister to. It looked war torn, and there was something in the air... a feeling like a familiar evil lurked in the shadows.​

​

Atrisia was not safe. Why would Srina have asked Eira to come, and more imporantly, how was Gerwald supposed to protect her as a wolf here? This was going to be the most difficult situation yet, and the wolf did not even know what the two were walking into.​

 

[Kurenai Yumi]

.​

​

Location: Atrisia, Yumi Estate
Objective: Link up with other CIS personal
Equipment: Armor, Boots, Main weapon, Melee Weapon
Peps: Junko Ike John Locke Srina Talon
Post: 2
​

It had taken a bit, but over the last few minutes Kurenai spent some time with her daughter keeping her entertained and distracted from what was happening outside. All the while her small army of servants arranged her equipment and arms, choosing items suitable to a vial outbreak and pandemic. All the while her comlink stayed open, keeping an ear out for updates and orders sent through by the higher ups in the CIS. So far though no one really know what was going on, or the cause of such a disaster, only that a huge scramble of forces to aid in this manner had taken place.​

​

"Come on Akari, you've been playing for quite a while, you must be tired by now". She called out to the young girl who was currently leaping around their sizable back yard, using a simple form of force jump. Her point being proven as akari failed one of her jumps, coming to land in the sand pit often used for sparing, getting covered in all the yellow dust. "Ahh pfft, yucky"! Kurenai letting off a small sigh before picking the child up and carrying her back into the house, once again calling out to Hitomi who promptly appeared. "The young lady is in need of a bath, would you please give her one", said servant simply bowing, leading Akari towards one of the bathrooms, the moment they rounded the corner Kurenai made haste towards the mansions armory.​

​

Being let in by another of her staff, "Daimyo, we have prepared your equipment as requested, please allow me to assist you". A small nod came from Kurenai, the two quickly equipping the veteran Knight, in but a few minutes the women fully outfitted for battle and a contagious virus. "Put the mansion on lock down, no one in or out, I have to meet up with other members of the Knight". With a bow from the servant Kurenai exited the building, climbing into her parked star fighter, opening a comlink up to John Locke .​

​

"Master Yumi here, I'm currently in Zam'Chi city, can I have a situation report? What do we know and where am I needed"? From her position in her fighter she could already see and sense the panic below. Biological warfare, in theory a good way to take over a planet without the need to destroy anything, but at the same time risky. After all, what was the point of ruling a world with no one on it?​

​

​

 

[Credius Nargath]

Location: Near Jar'kai , transferring location to Waru operations
Attire: Fabulous as always
Extra: Valkan Guards, Adamant class Dropships
Tags: Vytal Noctura | Cypher Rage | BX-72967 | Detro | open

While everything was in full swing, the chaos at its highest, Credius cursed the slow actions of his affiliates in this matters, yet still there was work to be done. Deciding to try and locate whatever pockets of the virus inflicted souls were left roaming the area directly underneath his ship upon the planet's surface. Arriving at the hangar bays, the vireroy was glad to see Detro ready and waiting, thus he himself did not hesitate, directing all the Valkan guards present to get aboard the dropships.

Taking himself a seat in the one that would be dropping down the anzat as well, a full squadron of the adamant class dropships went to the planet's surface and not a moment too soon. After all, though he wished for the CIS to truly win this annoying turn of events after their initial dominion and agreement to cooperation with the planet's populace, Credius could not bear the idea of not having had his own desires being meet. He wanted to see this infection first hand, experience it with his own eyes and while he knew that much was to be done to secure such samples, he could not just let it all blow over before he had any chance of success. To this end, it seemed he had to do something desperate as trying to slow down his own faction's progress.

"Our landing will be near Jar'kai," The closer they got to the center of the playing field, the better. Using his datapad to check the feed and th comms, nothing too absurds was going on for now, with containtment seemingly going well. However, luckily for Credius, containtment id not mean extermination or eradication, thus his own desires could yet be made worthwhile. "Settle us there, that open place seems good enough."

With the dropships landing, the viceroy was quick enough to jump off, with about a good one hundred Valkan Guards ready to go as well, a quarter of a legion, not directly a full force, but it should be enough to set up a base of operations while the dropships went up to rendezvous the rest of the troops. The initial plan of having at least one legion planetside was to be fullfilled shortly, but Credius could not let this drag on too long, directing that at least three squadrons were to perform initial reconaissance with him. Their objective was to capture at least three samples 'alive' when that was done there would be no need to spare any other infected. With the mission briefing quick and concise, Credius move on ahead, not willing to just stay out there too long. "You you and you, set up communications with any and all groups present, I want to know what is going on and who is doing what. Should there be anything providing us with an obstacle...eradicate it, no matter who or what it is, I do not want anything in my way, understood?"

Saluting their superior, the guards started setting up the tents and equipment, while the three squads appointed to join Credius with his little incursion were prepping themselves accordingly. "Time to bag and tag some samples, gentlemen."

 

[John Locke]

​

S A V E

​

"If a natural disaster strikes your community, reach out to your friends, neighbors, and complete strangers. Lend a helping hand."​

​

Marsha Blackburn​

​

​

Location: Atrisia​

Wearing: This​

With: Gianna Aegis ​

Tagging: Caedyn Arenais | Kurenai Yumi | WelshPsych | Vytal Noctura | Kas Varad | Darth Miseria | Xobos Yakieer | Kirk Tektus | Kyyrk | Credius Nargath | BX-72967 | Junko Ike ​

​

​

John’s eyes remained closed as he settled back in his seat, the bright sunlight streaming through the window onto his face warming his flesh. It was a comforting, pleasant feeling, the kind of feeling that left a deep seated sent of contentment. On any other day, in any other place John would have been happy to let himself drift off to sleep. The warm sunlight, comfortable seat and Gianna nestled into his side, he couldn’t think of a better more ideal situation. It was almost like a scene out of his dreams.

Almost.

It was only…none of his dreams had ever had a pandemic sweeping across the planet, a nightmare plague that seemed to be spreading faster than he could keep up with. This really wasn’t a dream, not really. Or if it was then it was more akin to a nightmare, one of those terrors that had him twisting and shifting in horror, waking up in a cold sweat. Not the kind of dream he’d been hoping for when they’d first set off.

The sound of a soft murmur from the Jedi curled up into his side brought John’s attention away from the stream of data flooding across his vision, his consciousness. Blinking it away, banishing the data to the back of his mind. Dark eyes snapped open, focusing on the redhead, worry coloured the man’s gaze as his gaze slipped over her slumbering face, over the lines of distress, the frown that marred her normally calm features. The expression looked out of place on the Jedi’s face. She was normally light and laughter, happiness and contentment, an aura wrapped around her that couldn’t help but lift you. To see that sadness on her face, that terror…it broke John’s heart.

John had spent years working with the Order of Silver Jedi, he’d seen the good and the bad, the Jedi who could use the force to create wonders that defied all reasoning, those who could barely use the force to lift a spoon. Gia was more empathic than any other Jedi he’d ever met, more in tune with the emotions, the feelings of those around her than other Jedi. It was her greatest strength, but at times like this it might just be her greatest weakness. An entire planets worth of terrified panicking people were screaming out into the ether, how could the Jedi not feel it, how could she not respond?

An arm tightened around Gia’s shoulders, pulling her closer as John reached out with his other hand, metallic fingers brushing the hair back from her face. Softly the cyborg ran his fingers along the lines marring the Jedi’s face.

“It’s ok, you’re safe.”

John knew nothing about the force, less than nothing really. Everything he’d learned was through observation, enough to recognise what was happening but not the what, the why. A helpless breath escaped the man’s lips, he couldn’t help. Couldn’t protect her from this burden All he could do was hold her, hunched over in his seat as he wrapped both arms around her, cradling her close to his chest.

If he could, John would have spent the trip just holding the Jedi, just letting the worry that danced around his perception to consume him. But he couldn’t. But he couldn’t…the streams of data on the edge of his consciousness were a constant reminder of the weight of duty, of responsibility that hung on him like lead weights. Johns head bowed, eyes squeezed shut as a single tear fell onto Gia’s face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do, how to make it stop…I’m here with you.“

The man’s voice was a hoarse whisper, carrying a sad despair. He couldn’t stop the woman from feeling the terror of the planet, awake or asleep…but maybe he could lessen it. Those streams of data that he’d pushed to the back of his mind, it only took a thought for all that data to come racing forward again, filling his vision. If they could control this, contain it, maybe then the terror would lessen.

They were still there, the myriad of voices, of data streams relayed back to him. It took only a moment for John to sink into it, to accept the data again. Secured in the centre of the network like a spider reaching out along a vast invisible web.

First a call from the Exarch’s advisor, Darth Empyrean , a quick heads up that he and Srina Talon would be evacuating the politicians and other VIPs they could find. All it took was a small thought a message sent to the CIS fleet that had gathered in orbit, a flight plan sent to the man.

“I’ve cleared you to take a shuttle to one of the ships manning the blockade. We’ll keep your and the VIPs in quarantine there till we have an idea of what it is we’re dealing with down here.”

It was a simple solution, a spurt of data into the network and they would find a welcome prepared for them, as hospitable welcome as the CIS could afford right now. A small matter of logistics in a much larger, much wider moving picture.

A welcome call from Commander Kirk Tektus, troops and artillery, but more importantly a quarantine center, a well protected, well provisioned base.

“Commander, good to hear from you. That’s a breath of good news. I’ll need you to retain enough soldiers at your base to protect it and to manage refugees as they arrive.”

A quick heck of the data before a packet was rerouted to the commander, the location of a convoy, a train of fleeing refugees, trying to find safety in the madness that had swept over their world.

“They should be with you in about 40 minutes. I’ll need you to send the rest of your troops towards Jar’Kai, it appears we’re dealing with a major hostile event there and we can’t risk letting it anything from the ruins escape. Have your battle droids move up to support our forces in the area containing the hostile incursion.”

Whatever was happening in the ruins of the city, whatever enemies that might appear, John would have to trust in the commanders on the scene. All he could do was provide them with the tools, the troops they needed t contain the threat. The CIS was blessed with a plethora of commanders, of soldiers and knights who would step up. Even for a world that wasn’t home, for innocents they had never met.

Even those soldiers John had never met, who didn’t even contact him. Surprisingly the next call, the next attempt to reach out for communication, for help didn’t come over his communication network. It was Gianna, the sleeping woman’s communicator that went off, a soldier John had never heard from on the line. Identifying himself as working for @Sergei “Jack” Jachovich. John wasn’t sure who that was but the Confederate codes seemed to check out, and John left them with assurances that the woman was well and a link to the communications network.

The next message in the queue was from Waru Tower again, but instead of Commander Tektus it was the easily recognisable figure of Marshal Cypher Rage. John could only spare him a few moments, but for that brief span of time the Minister’s entire attention was focused on the officer.

“How can I help you Marshall Rage?”

There was no time to wait for a reply, the conversation would have to be ongoing as more troops, more information flooded into the network. The elite troopers of Dauntless led by Luna Terrik bursting onto their scene, calm cool professionalism as John watched them deploy.

“General Terrik, are you a voice for sore ears. We don’t have much information right now about the situation inside the city. I’ve reached out to the government for access to their surveillance systems but so far there’s been no reply. Have your troops proceed carefully into the city and report back on what they find.”

John paused a moment, considering his next words carefully. Atrisia had just joined the Confederacy but what he was considering wouldn’t go down well. The diplomats would hang him for this one but, the man’s eyes flicked open, dark eyes highlighted with a turquoise light examined the woman cradled in his arms. It would be worth it.

“General, if you need it, if you need eyes in the city let me know and I’ll crack their system open for you. I’m not going to leave our men on the ground without all the support I can provide.”

He’d face the consequences for his actions if it came to that later.

For a moment, for a breath of time it actually seemed like they might have control of this. The rapid deployment of troops actually tilting things in their favour. They could do this, contain the outbreak, push back whoever was attacking and rescue the planet. For a moment the man allowed himself a smile. A moment to prematurely.

They say it always got worse before it got better.

The first crack was a call, panicked and desperate. The Exarch’s shuttle…all those VIPs lost, crashing down somewhere near Xam’Chi city. A light blinking out. It was one of hundreds of thousands of different datapoints all appearing and disappearing every second. Only this wasn’t just a data point. This was an Exarch, the Exarch. Darth Metus’s apprentice herself. This wasn’t someone you could overlook, leve to fend for themselves, only all their combat troops were tied up holding the tied, on civilian rescue operations already. By the time John had extracted some, it might be too late.

The man’s gaze was drawn to a single mote of light in the heaven’s. Gianna’s friends. A roll of the dice then, a chance to save the Exarch if she could, left in the hands of troops he didn’t know.

“Commander @Sergei “Jack” Jachovich, I’ve got a mission for you. A VIP shuttle crashed somewhere in Xam’Chi. I need you to locate and extract the survivors. Special consideration must be given to Exarch Talon if she’s alive. Bring her back Commander and the Confederacy will be in your debt.”

It was all he could do, if they could even narrow down a location then he could deploy troops to the area, but going in blind, into the heart of an infection. It wasn’t something he could countenance, not even for an Exarch.

And the bad news kept on coming, fresh from the optical receptors of BX-72967 the first signs of the enemy who had been ravaging the planet. Their enemy was the Atrisians themselves. Or at least their corpses.

It took a blink of an eye for John to transmit the images across the entire communications network, the images of the zombies shambling towards the CIS troops.

“All personnel on planet, we have eyes on the enemy and…they’re the Atrisians. Or their corpses. Something is taking the population of the planet and converting them into zombies.”

He’d seen holo-vids like this, holovids of the undead attacking, of horror stories…but this was real life and these things didn’t happen in…no, no of course they happened in real life.

“All troops, at this point you are weapons free to engage any and all hostiles that you see. Whatever this virus is, do not risk it infecting you, or letting these things get to you.”

Things, they weren’t living anymore and John didn’t know what they were, they’d need to examine them, figure out what was happening. They needed specimens.

“BX-72967, your request to defoliate Jar’Kai is denied at this time, we need to understand what’s going on here. Mission parameters have changed, I need you to capture 2 or 3 specimens and contain them. Bring them to a secure location for us to examine them, to find out what’s going on here. I have reinforcements inbound to assist you.”

And then the unthinkable, a soft voice, one of his friends his colleagues.

“—I may already have it.”

“Alessandra…hold on…just hold on. General Terrik, we have a casualty, I need troops to extract Minister Alessandra Creed , to get her to a secure medical building.”

They had lost, they would loose but never without trying everything, moving the heavens and earth to protect their own.

“It’ll be ok Alessandra, I’m sending troops to pick you up now, to get you to safety.”

And a final call, someone in Xam’Chi herself.

“Master Kurenai Yumi , we seem to be facing some kind of Zombie attack on the city, a sickness that’s converting the citizens into the undead. Can you link up with our forces? Help us get any uninfected, any innocents to safety?”

​

 

[The Monster]

Theme

Sergei would speak immediately when the commlink channel opened immediately asking if Gianna was okay. When it was someone else his voice would go from demanding, to relief and then his professional soldier demeanor as he was brought up to speed. Being given the proper access codes for CIS battlenet Sergei immediately spoke aloud to the ship.

"Ship enter those comm codes we need to get tied in, we're officially on the job!"

The other three mercs looked at him with cocked eyebrows when he spoke. They didn't have any idea as to what was going on, and Sergei wouldn't leave them in the dark for long.

"People on the surface need our help, suit up! Check your weapons and ammo, I want double combat loads as I don't know how long we're down there! Go full CBRN protocol, we're sealed until we find out whether or not we can use rebreathers in atmo, double time let's go!"

They moved quickly with a sense of purpose, each member quickly just stripping in the armory and getting into their undersuits for their combat armor. Once done they began attaching their armor plates to the undersuits, starting with shin and ankle guards, chest plates, and then armored wrist guards. Each member was inspected first by one teammate, and then they'd inspect the other's in turn, making sure everything sealed properly, and all of the armor layers were properly sitting so as to prevent pinching and tearing. Then Sergei pulled out several cases filled to the brim with ammo, stocking up bandoliers full of magazines, both for the rifles and the mounted grenade launchers. They each put 500 rounds onto a bandolier, and then packed away another 1000 into their combat packs. Each man then grabbed 20 microgrenades out of several cases, getting a mixture of tazer, flechettes, incendiaries, buckshot, and door breaching rounds. And those went on various carriers placed at key points across their bodies. Sergei then secured his second bandolier which he stowed his grenades, grabbing several flashbangs, frags, thermal detonators, and a few breaching charges. In his pack he placed a combat cutting torch, his extra rounds for his rifle and pistol, and a few signal flares. When he finished he looked up to see the rest of his men had already grabbed their rifles and began their pre combat checks. He joined them, doing a quick function check on the rifle before slapping a spare magazine home, and then loading the microgrenades into the underslung grenade launcher. Satisfied he slung the rifle over his shoulder and grabbed his pistol, going through the same process and loading it with standard disrupter rounds, but made sure to grab another two hundred rounds to have on his person of various other rounds, from standard flechettes, to several Ion tag rounds. He holstered the pistol and looked up to find his helmet waiting for him. The face shield, now upgraded, almost glinted as he could see his reflection in it. The man he saw, was someone he was very familiar with. A warrior, someone who fought with righteous fury to protect those who couldn't fight for themselves. He picked up the helmet and noted how much lighter it was from before. How much lighter his whole suit was. He'd come so far, and he couldn't stop now. As he placed his helmet on, and clicked the seals in place, engaging the rebreathers for now, he could hear the second call from Gia's friend.

“Commander @Sergei “Jack” Jachovich, I’ve got a mission for you. A VIP shuttle crashed somewhere in Xam’Chi. I need you to locate and extract the survivors. Special consideration must be given to Exarch Talon if she’s alive. Bring her back Commander and the Confederacy will be in your debt.”

"Consider it done," was his only reply.

His ship was moving through reentry by now, screaming through the atmosphere as the Droid brain gave the engines full power. When it finally cleared the reentry, and was flying fast over the ground Sergei was in the main room of the ship, looking at the tactical map of the city. The Droid brain was quick to point out a few things.

"Jack I have the projected plot of the ship that the minister mentioned, it's currently sitting at this point. However, there are no safe LZs nearby and the closest one is three kilometers away at a local park. As other transmissions are stating, it would appear that the infection is turning the local population into bioweapons, suggest remaining on self contained atmosphere until rebreathers can be determined to filter out the contaminate,"

"What's our LZ looking like?" Sergei asked evenly.

"Our current LZ looks relatively clear though I don't suggest lingering,"

"Alright, sync up the crash location with our tacmaps, provide the best route, and give us cover in the sky,"

"Understood Jack, be safe out there,"

The ship quickly nosed up as it approached the landing zone, coming to a quick stop as it hovered roughly 20 feet above the ground. Sergei opened the back ramp as he hit a secondary switch to deploy rappelling ropes. He switched his air supply to self contained and signalled the other three to do the same. Once they all have him the thumbs up, Sergei turned on his HUD and quickly hopped off the ramp and grabbed the ropes mid jump, his gloves giving him unnaturally good grip as he slid the remaining distance to the ground. Once dirtside he raised his rifle, and did a quick sweep, calling an all clear, and the rest of the team followed him.

"Ship, this is Jack, we're dirtside, go ahead and move into overwatch position. Team, diamond formation. To all Confederacy units, this is Sergei Jachovich of The Dire Wolves, on the ground and going dark,"

The gunship quickly rose to a much safer cruising height as the team moved out, making their way towards the crash site. Sergei was in the lead, and he kept his sector clear as they quickly went to the nearby city buildings, deciding that speed was more necessary than stealth, as they didn't know how long the crew of the other ship had. For good measure and to throw any infected that might be nearby off the trail, the gunship turned one of it's cannons to the clear opposite of Sergei's team and spotting an abandoned fuel truck, used the laser canon to blast it, sending a small explosion that would hopefully draw most of the infected to it, away from Sergei's group. Little did Sergei know however, that one of the members on his team hadn't switched to his onboard air supply, and as luck would have it, was already infected. So the clock was ticking much faster than any of them knew.

John Locke Darth Empyrean Srina Talon

 

[Slaad]

Location: Xam'chi, Crash site
Objective: Show others the path
Allies: Xenro | Darth Immortuos | Darth Assimilus
Tags: Srina Talon | Darth Empyrean | The Monster
Ambiance: 2spoopy

Hand in hand with the girl who’d delivered the destructive catalyst to him Slaad guided them both through the crowded Xam’chi streets. Sirens blared, people ran through the streets pursued by the hordes of infected. The duo moved through the streets unbothered, their frames silhouetted by the flames that engulfed a nearby building.

Many believed that the infection was simple, that you just became a mindless beast once beneath its control. Perhaps for those who couldn’t or wouldn’t accept its grace that was true. Those who welcomed it's blessing kept their identity. At least as much as they were capable of remembering. Glancing down to the black-haired girl offering what was supposed to be a smile simply looked horrifying. The girl did not flee. Looking upon her memories of times past sprung unbidden to the surface.

Memories of a Sith who once had a family, who had a daughter he sought to save. Who threw himself into his research to find a way to bring her to health. He tried medical equipment and failed. He turned to the force and failed. He even went to the lengths of tapping into the most dangerous substance known to the galaxy, that was when he found it. The answers he sought, in an old, lost holocron. That spoke of a way to grant immortality. Slaad went for it, he followed the instructions, before injecting his daughter with the concoction.

Miraculously the girl had sprung to live, her skin much the same color as the Atrisian girls, she hungered, she thirsted but not for food. For flesh. She set upon Slaad tearing a chunk of his neck free. Spreading the infection before the man could bring her existence to an end with a movement of his lightsaber.

Reminiscing on the moment of his infection a hand reached up to touch where the wound still lay. If looking closely one could see the tendons and muscle within his neck. “Will they ever accept us?” The girl asked dragging Slaad’s thoughts back to the present. Her gaze looking to the ground, onyx streams retreating down her cheeks.

Turning his gaze down to the adolescent Slaad took a knee before her. A large finger brushed the obsidian tears away “They need not accept you my dear, I always will. There are others too. That truly understand us.”

Interrupting the moment was first over two dozen bodies slamming into the streets hard enough that they became a mush of black and gray goo. Not even a second behind them a ship met the surface with enough force to shake the streets. From within Slaad could feel them, could smell them. From his mouth, an ink colored liquid fell. Rising from the girl and willing her to go wait off to the side the creature stuck a hand within his robes.

The appendage dug into the flesh of Slaad’s gut withdrawing from within his very being a silver hilt. That of a lightsaber. More memories returned, of an excellent warrior. A thought brought a blood-shine blade into existence, the faint scent of ozone accompanying it.

Heavy footfalls brought Slaad closer to the downed vessel, and a swing of his lightsaber cleaved a hole in the metal hull allowing him to see the figures that lay within.

 

[Syd Celsius]

Wearing: 90 Suit

Armed With: Wind and Fire Wheels (Split-Saber w/Incineration crystals)

Objective: That song sung by The Trammps


Syd sat on the edge of a building, clad in her skin tight blue and gold suit, legs crossed, calmly slinging fireballs at crowds of zombies below.

Correction: calmly slinging dozens and dozens of searing hot, fast moving micro-fireballs emitted from an outstretched palm.

Syd was protecting a whole building full of survivors that had managed to barricade themselves. There were hoards of undead below all trying to march on the building, only to get hit with fireballs. Fun and sterilizing!

She knew they had all been people once. She appreciated that fact. But one of Syd's weaknesses was Zombie-Arson.

She fething loved Zombie-Arson. She loved it so much she had literally raced the feth back to Atrisia to get the best spot to start killing zombies from.

She had found an excellent spot from which to direct the fires properly, without burning a tenth of the city to the ground like she had before.

Zombie-Arson for her was what skipping stones across the pond were for others, or what catching 'em all was for Ash.

This was one of the most heavily infected parts of the city, and Syd, perched on the building with a few bottles of lighter fluid to drink, was having as much relaxation as she could to distract her from regaining twenty five percent of her memories as Phyre. Unlike living, breathing people, it was almost impossible for her to feel bad about killing zombies. Easy to dismiss them as fodder. But even though she was having a ball burning the city clean of disease, her fire actually serving a constructive purpose for a change, the silent whisper of it all being pantomime, a distraction from reality, still lingered.

Casually, she directed a twister of flame through a writhing mass of undead. The streets burned with undead, the disease burning with them.

Syd drank some lighter fluid. The fuel feeding her, giving more power for her efforts. But the mass of undead was vast in these parts, and even as they disintegrated in the heat, more advanced, only to burn.

Syd reached into a nearby bag, started tossing incendiary grenades. It was this part of Zombie-Arson that most resembled skipping stones, and Syd would hover them over a large hoard with her mind before activating and dropping it. (GLORY KILL!!!)

Syd cackled in spite of the lethal situation...

 

[Marlon Sularen]

Location : Atrisia
Forces : The Manticore , The Titan , Directorate Guardians (x8) , Directorate Stormtroopers (x125) Sentinel-class landing craft (x2) , Delta-class D-5 Shuttle (x1)
Tag : Credius Nargath | Ben Craig | Kren | Detro

The Manticore and The Titan jumped out of hyperspace at the edge of the Atrisian system. Just a few weeks ago , the Directorate and it's allies had fought against the CIS and now the young Neo-Imperial Faction would find itself assisting the CIS on Atrisia to push back the Rancidous Order who had now reveals itself on Atrisia as they moved forth to further spread the Blackwing Outbreak that had begun earlier on Atrisia during Mythos attack. With the Rancidous order involved , Maracel knew that Kezeroth would be with them and given that this could be the perfect opportunity to capture him and make him pay for the threats he made to Adam Versili , one of the Directorate's Top Military Commanders and for the lives lost on Kuat to his suicidal attack on the Directorate but then unfortunately that was something for another time as the Directorate had not come here for Kezeroth but rather to rienforce Credius Nargath who was somewhat interested in this Blackwing Outbreak. If it wren't for him Maracel would have sent a larger force to contain Kezeroth and his goons. But yet again the Director would have to wait for another opportunity would come soon.

As the Two Warships approached the system , Maracel stood on the bridge wondering at what carnage was taking place on Atrisia , a planet devastated by countless wars with many cities in ruins and portions of the planets scared by constant warfare. "Sir we are in position to deploy our troops" said one of the officers bringing Maracel back to his senses. "Sir what are your orders?" asked the officer as he still awaited a response from Maracel. "Begin the deployment of troops and meet up with Credius Nargath's Forces at the drop point and prepare my Personal Shuttle" ordered the Director. "yes sir right away" replied the Officer complying with his leader's orders as Maracel left the bridge of the Manticore. As he arrived at the hangar Maracel soon met his contigent of Directorate Guardians whom where awaiting him with the Director followed by the Guardians entering his shuttle as it left the Manticore.

Soon the shuttles would enter the atmosphere and as they descended towards the lithosphere of Atrisia , the Directorate watched from the cockpit at how devastated the planet really was with smoke being seen on the horizon probably being the ancient city of Jar'kar or at least what he thought was left of it. Soon the Shuttles would land in the assembly area and Directorate soldiers began moving out with Maracel and his Guardians exiting last. As the Troopers began unloading E-Webs and Speeder Bikes from the Sentinel Landing Craft , Maracel approached Credius Nargath to get an explanation on what interests did he have on Atrisia. "So Nargath , what is again the reason for why were are here. You only mentioned that you were interested in something here on Atrisia and i have yet to know exactly what's important here on Atrisia?"

 

[Eira Talon]

Location: Streets of Xam'chi
Tag: Gerwald Lechner Kas Varad

Eira pushed through the streets, her easy steps growing shorter and full of tension as she pushed deeper in. The crowd of rushing people had dispersed, the streets turning disconcertingly empty. ...What? This was not the version of Atrisia that Srina had spoken of. This was not what she had expected of a planet's capitol.

The hairs on her arms slowly stood on end. For the first time, the girl found herself wishing she had left with a weapon on her. Something wasn't right here, but she didn't turn back. Blind faith in her sister's message curbed the worst of her unease. Artisia is safe. Come on down. Why would Srina have sent an invite to her twice if it wasn't the case?


Litter fluttered in the breeze, carrying with it a shrill scream.

Eira froze, her blood turning cold.

At the intersection ahead, the first sign of life appeared. A girl ran out of a building, covered in splatters of something red. Her arm was missing, at least Eira thought it must be her arm. In truth it was hard to make sense of the mess of cloth and gore. Especially when the thing came running out after her. Eira could only stare in pure shock as the blood-drenched man launched after the girl.

Pinned her down.

And ate her neck.

 

[Kas Varad]

Nearby CIS Allies: Eira Talon | Gerwald Lechner
Directly Engaging: [Open to Tango]
Objective: Gather Intelligence. Find who is responsible. Isolate the infected.
Location: Xam'chi Outskirts. Solo
Post: #2
Kit:

Spoiler

Armor: Cabur Beskargam, Weapons: 1x Fusion Rifle, 1x Icebreaker 2x Jackknifes, Melee: 1 x Basic Songsteel Sword, 1 x Force Pike, Grenade Belt: x5 Mixed. Gear: Targeting Visor, Lifeform Detector, x1 Personal Shield (Off), 1x Cluster of Antibacs with Basic Medkit

Muse Music
Helmet coms came in.
Static. “All Confederacy forces, this is Minister Locke on Atrisia issuing a priority alert. We have a situation developing on the planet, a sickness of some kind has been unleashed on the planet….”

“....we can’t risk this spreading. Take maximum precautions to protect yourself.” Static.

So a plague. Probably shouldn’t have had that fifth brandy. Sure could use a Corellian stogie about now, least the stims and docs cocktails had him sobered up. Last one to leave the landing ramp, the Mandalorian’s jetpack blasted him off into the capital city. It was a mess the street he touched ground in, overturned speeders, burning windows, looting, the works. On the edge of the quarantine zone it was literally a dead man’s zone, which suited him just fine for now, easier to see who the bad guys were.

Further in, weapon raised cautiously. He left the looters alone, there were bigger bugs to squash. Scanning the acumen hud over the landscape, the Varad was feeding targetting information via the holonet uplink imbedded in the Cabur Beskargam. Eerie. Too quiet.

Eira Talon
A girl. A zombie. Even as he was updated via his helmet about the nature of what they were facing, it never did prepare you for that. The zombie was shot clear in a hail of fusion rifle shots, that didn’t stop until it resembled a pin cushion smoking against the side of a duracrete wall. If anything Kas kept firing the Fusion Rifle for too long to make oversure it was mush.

“Zombies.” He looked down at the small girl, still chance to save her? That wound though and the arm. Reaching down to apply some pressure to her neck, he was getting the antibacs out but she was gone, or soon to be worse than gone. The crusader just closed her eyes and stood back up.

Looking down at the victim. There was a choice to make and it was clear Kas wasn’t making the choice easily. Nah he had made it, he’d not shoot the girl's body, if she raised up then he’d shoot her, for now, he’d respect the dead where they lay. The fully armored and heavily armed Mandalorian looked to Eira. She wouldn’t have sensed him coming, just a void or perhaps emptiness, maybe nothing at all standing there in the armor. Force Dead as the Varad clan were. “Evacuating the city, gotta move, you in?” Thinking Eira a civilian or one of the CIS corporate personnel in need of aid.

There was growling from behind him, and he turned toward two more infected, one which was lunging at the Mandalorian…. "FRAK IT"

 

[Credius Nargath]

Location: Near Jar'kai , transferring location to Waru operations
Attire: Fabulous as always
Extra: Valkan Guards, Adamant class Dropships

Just as soon as he wanted to move, Credius could sense it, this tingling, uneasy sensation in the air, just like he had felt aboard the Valedictorian. It was as if something sinister was going on. He could feel that this was not just some simple infection, this was deeper and darker, connected heavily to the force, but he could not pinpoint the origin nor how it worked or what it truly did, for now all it seemed to be able to do was give him goosebumps, the hairs on his arms raising as a warning sign for the depravity which was permeating the planet itself.

His attention quickly drawn to the landing vessels near the agreed upon rendezvous point, the viceroy of Eriadu moved towards the people moving out of them, recognizing the director of the directorate Marlon Sularen at the head of the deploying troops.

“All personnel on planet, we have eyes on the enemy and…they’re the Atrisians. Or their corpses. Something is taking the population of the planet and converting them into zombies.” Hearing the voice of the Minister of science John Locke on the comms, Credius nodded, not having heard the full speech due to the static on the comms. “All troops, at this point you are weapons free to engage any and all hostiles that you see. Whatever this virus is, do not risk it infecting you, or letting these things get to you.”

As soon as he got close enough, the Viceroy instantly got extremely annoyed by the director's way of addressing him, with his eyes for a moment flashing the bloodred color within his irises, a few sparks of black electricity crackling around his hand, yet he quickly regained his composure as he deemed it more appropriate to teaching the man some manners at another point in time. "Director Yorkell, it appears that the planet is not under siege by any ordinary force as we initially thought, but is in reality being overrun by the results of some sort of biological weapon, which seems to have turned the populace into a bunch of raving raging brutal monsters. This means I want samples of these...people, I want to know what it does, how it works and perhaps even weaponize it and improve it." With one of his mean coughing, the Viceroy walked over to the man and squinted his eyes, turning back around to continue his talk with the director. "I've heard the esteemed minister of science of the Confederacy mention something about zombies, but that is about all I've heard. I need to get those samples...Maracel, WE need those samples...after all, what is better than something akin to a virus to force your enemies into submission?"

"Uh...Milord?" One of the Valkan guards that was responsible for the comms to be set up raised his hand, pointing at Credius, who did not notice how the guard who had been coughing earlier suddenly shuddered and went quiet. For a moment, Credius thought the Valkan guard was pointing at him, thus he blinked and wonder what in the blazes the guard was trying to point at, not hearing the few shudders of the man behind him, even when he could hear a somewhat feint moaning and gurgling from behind him, he didn't react.

"Well, explain...what's wrong, guard?" Really getting annoyed now that he finally heard the grunting behind him, the marquis turned around, noticing a few of his men had their rifles trained on the one guard that had been standing behind the Viceroy. "Milord...something's wrong with him, please move away."

Before he could react at all, the guard suddenly rushed up on him, raising his hands to grab at him, all the while having the other guards open fire upon the infected one, alas their weapons seemed to be as ineffective against the afflicted guard as wet noodles would've been. Not wanting to wait and see what the afflicted guard was capable of doing, Credius' hand swiftly reached for the infected guard's helmet, sending a massive torrent of force lightning through the man's entire body before it collapsed into a heap of charred metal and flesh, with darkened blood at boiling point seeping out of the metal shell. "That's that...ugh... this is going to be annoying."

For a moment, the Viceroy reached for his mouth, coughing softly, looking at the blood on his white glove, tucking it away behind his back when looking at the Director and Detro. "Perhaps it is best to send this new information to the minister."

Marlon Sularen | Detro | John Locke | Darth Immortuos​

 

[Detro]

Location: On planet
Allies: Credius Nargath (and affiliates)
Objective: Obtain a sample Escape?
Tags: Credius Nargath Marlon Sularen

Spoiler: Equipment:

Legionnaire Heavy Elite Armor LHEA mk I, VAARS, 2 r-1-repeating-blaster-pistols.

The Valkan Guard were quick to board, Detro along with Credius Nargath on one of them. Detro remained patient as they began to descend in the dropship. He didn't know much about this "infection" so far, but they were doubtless going to see its effects first hand soon enough. With as many as it had captured, there was pretty much a certain chance this was going to be dangerous.

He looked below, trying to sense the thoughts of those grasped by the Virus. What had happened to them, how would it disintegrate the city. The numbers were already monumental in tolls. But, Credius wanted simples. And so that he would get. Detro get himself a better position to look out, using the dropship to give him a higher view into the distance.

"Just how intact do they need to be, sir?" The anzati required hopping down from the dropship, "And how are we going to be sure they remain contained. This is an infection afterall, it could spread any number of ways." these were things he hadn't really been informed on. They could potentially call down further aid for such a matter. Sealed containers, perhaps find a way to filter in the air. The matter of capturing them had an extra issue, stun weaponry may or may not be effective. If they were able to remove limbs...well...that could make things just a little easier.

However, something more important soon took place, and Detro breathed in, clenching his rifle as he noticed the man infected behind Credius and the other soldiers preparing to fire. There was a mere moment between it and Credius having to blast the thing with force lightning as it lunged at him. Detro looked at Credius Nargath and his reaction. He'd made contact. Armored or not, they weren't safe. Detro wasn't aware of it yet, but it had already started to get to him to. An itching in the throat. It could be just the illusion of belief. But he just saw that one of the troops had already fallen prey to the disease, "The armor isn't helping, whatever this is, it's airborne and it doesn't care. I think we should evacuate and get into a facility immediately before we risk the rest of us getting...turned. Sir." He said this rather quietly, stepping beside Credius after he mentioned that they should inform the Minister. Which of course, he agreed about. But they were still on the planet, actively open to the virus which had already taken one of them in mere moments of being on the surface. And Credius had made direct physical contact with that very person.

Detro was not a coward, he was a soldier. But there was something scary about a thing that would just ignore what you had preventing it from getting to you. This virus might be a bigger threat to civilizations than any army could be.

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Crash Landed Xam'Chi
Allies: CIS & Friends
Tags: Darth Empyrean │ John Locke | Eira Talon
Enemies: Xenro │ Darth Immortuos │ Slaad

______________________________
​

Could he feel it?

The infection was not silent. Speculation buzzed through the ear-piece to her comm while the Ministers tried to find a way to mitigate the damage and halt the spread of the disease. Fear. It pervaded her every sense, her every thought, whether it belonged to her or not. Flashes of madness poured into her psyche, burning, and with an intensity that left her breathless. A husband turning against his wife. A child, injured, and sick leaping up to attack whoever tended them. It was happening everywhere, slowly but surely, and Srina knew the balance would shift.

It would take time, but soon enough, the living population would dwindle. Even protected.

That was the will, the voice of the contagion. It did not come for wealth, territory, or some misbegotten sense of power. It spread because that was what it was designed to do. It sought hosts, carriers, and a way to reproduce. Srina was not a virologist. She could fight the infected below, but, that wouldn’t solve the problem. It merely dealt with a symptom. Maliphant seemed to sense the path that her thoughts had taken. Surprisingly, he pulled her nearer, and she felt a soft kiss to her forehead.

He swore they would survive. Her jaw set tight. What about everyone else?

“Don’t say that.”, Srina uttered firmly. Her tone was less than gentle, almost frigid, but when she pulled back to see his face—He would know the truth. Eira Talon very well may have already been on the planet by the time the quarantine went into effect. She tried not to let the notion of her youngest sibling becoming one of these things twist her. But, the desperation and agony that echoed from Atrisia was already so strong that it was nearly nauseating. “Don’t. It isn’t your duty to protect me.”

How did she fight something she couldn’t even see?

“I won’t let you—”

Bedlam. Sudden, and immediate. Shouting. The ship was spinning out and dropping like a stone before the pilots could scramble to right the situation. There wasn’t time, just pressure, while they were unceremoniously slammed into a nearby wall. Srina felt air crush from her lungs, even though, strong arms held her secure. Maliphant, she realized, was trying to protect her. Again.

Just when her vision began to give way to darkness, something changed, and she felt buoyant. The Force let her breathe. Acclimate. For a moment. Srina pulled on the Force and metaphysically wrapped her own energy around the ship. She pulled mentally, trying to reverse the velocity so that it wouldn’t hit the ground and kill them outright. She sought a controlled fall rather than a crash landing. Srina strained against gravity. Darth Maliphant focused on the people. She focused on the ship. Their combined efforts were nothing to laugh at, but, the ground was coming. The pilot counted down to impact, trying, to keep the panic out of his voice.

“Four…Three…Two—”

Srina never dreamed that Maliphant would protect everyone. Everyone, but himself.

"—One."

The pale-skinned Exarch pulled herself up from the ground. Smoke filled the air. Fire. She could see flame. There were people all around, coughing, and struggling to get to their feet. Not everyone was alive. Couldn’t be. Bodies couldn’t twist that way. The passengers inside the ship, for the most part, seemed to have been spared. That didn’t account for the innocent civilians that hadn’t been able to anticipate a ship falling out of the sky in the middle of a pandemic.

Soot-stained and disoriented she pulled herself to her feet using a piece of the broken hull.

Srina was bleary, but aside from bruises, and a few scrapes she was relatively unharmed. Silver eyes searched the many faces that moved before her, all asking questions, looking for answers. “Stay calm. If you’re uninjured start doing a headcount.”, she ordered, tone raspy, though firm. Her Holo-Comm was a little too tight on her wrist. Realizing it had been smashed, now useless, she tossed it off and continued looking at the terrified faces. Her cold heart sank. “Maliphant?”

Reaching through the Force not a moment later her eyes were drawn to a pale figure leaning against a piece of metal. She had slowed the ship, but a crash was a crash. No doubt parts of it were split open. She moved forward, slowly at first, but as the smoke moved the young woman broke into a sprint. There were things in her way but an acute awareness somehow allowed her to make it look effortlessly, graceful, despite the fact that she’d nearly twisted her ankle in a divot in the ground.

She couldn’t speak in the beginning. Her hands came to hold his face and slowly, carefully, she brushed white hair away from his forehead. Some of it was mattered with blood, sweat, and grime she had no name for. “…Maliphant…”, she breathed, barely audible, while her hand slipped down to his neck so she could feel for a pulse. His eyes fluttered open and he uttered a teasing phrase that caused silver eyes to narrow. Her voice was touched with a shred of something. Anger? Fear? Worry? It would be hard to tell. Even now, the man used his strength for them, keeping the group safe from infection with the Force. “…Why would you do something so senseless?”

Still, her hand caressed his face. As if she couldn’t let go.

The passengers were starting to get restless. Breaking, beneath the pressure. Crying. Making noise that would expose their position even more than the crash already had.

“What do we do?”​

​

“Atrisia has modular homes with closed environments—Can we find them?”​

​

“I thought the Confederacy was supposed to protect us!”​

​

“Is that…Was that a person?”​

​

“I need to find my family!”​

​

“This can’t be happening.”​

​

“Did…Did that body just move?”​

All of the rage, suffering, hysteria, and horror echoed around in her body like a closed metal chamber. Srina had felt it acutely from the ship, before the crash. Now, on the ground, she felt as if she were saturated in it. Breathing it in, she drowned, while agony and blackness filled her lungs. For a moment it felt like that wave of amorphous negative energy would sweep over her head. Push her down. Carry her away, leave her lost in the crowd, in a sea of ashen faces.

No.​

The silver in her eyes began to burn. It darkened, blistering, before tarnished gold began to plume out from her iris. Anger led the way while the young woman deadened before the eyes of the ailing Sith Lord. She became that which the rest of Atrisia exuded. Fear. The Darkside was the truth, the superior tool. It was the only thing she knew that might save his life. The shadows of her features lengthened and her beautifully frozen expression was almost more ghoulish than the infected. She leaned near to his ear to deliver words he may not hear. He would feel it, a breath of power, a fierce demand.

He had once referred to her as his Queen. If that was true? He would obey.

“You will not die. I will not allow it.”

For him—She let the rest of her humanity slip. She let the mask fall. When she inhaled next it settled any lingering doubt in her soul. Maliphant would not die. The Dread Queen leaned forward and wrapped one arm around his shoulder. One around his midsection. No apology. Just a pull. She was stronger than her slight frame gave credit for, too strong, and a disgusting squelching sound was the result while she pried the man from the twisted piece of metal.

Blood would flow. Internal damage worsened with every movement, every second, that the wound lay bare to the open air. Srina guided Maliphant to the ground and let his head rest into her lap. Higher. She needed to keep his chest elevated. “Stay awake.”, she ordered quietly, letting one hand wrap around the wound on his head while the other pressed against the hole that had been torn in his abdomen. “Stay awake.”

The telltale sound of something slicing through metal caught her attention. She couldn’t see exactly what it was from her angle, but, something undead lay beyond the metal wall. Fire-laden orbs glared. They lifted from Maliphant and she nodded her head toward the pilot and their co-pilot. Both were armed [Blaster Pistol/Combat Knife] and potentially capable of staving off any nuisance, at least, for a few moments. “Move. Aim. Fire. Nothing is impossible to kill. Sometimes, you just have to rinse and repeat until it stops moving.”

There was no better advice to give. They were, essentially, trapped in the remains of the ship. Srina would not stand idly by while one of her own died. Not, when she could change his fate.

The small creature, bathed in darkness, took the energy she stole from the air, from herself, and pressed it into him. It was an invasion. It was cruel. Jedi had a way of laying hands in such a way that it washed pain away with the gentleness of rainfall. Srina had no such technique. Instead, she could only focus on the wounds, swirling, and angry. He would feel every bit of re-growth, every bit of muscle smoothing, every piece of ruined, ragged skin, knitting itself slowly back together. He had been made incomplete.

She would give of herself and make him whole.

Or die trying.