Rebellion Ekibyō no tengoku: Blackwing Virus | Rebellion of Atrisia

[Subject 73 Red]

Objective: Secure the resort. Find survivors. Bring as many survivors back as possible.
Tags: Luna Terrik Ben Craig

Red affirmed his reply. "Copy that. We'll move in and see who we can pick up and bring out of there. Going radio silent." He replied, then he turned his comm off. This might take a while.

"There, see that plaza? Get us directly over that." Red told the pilot, pointing at the flat plaza, perfect for a landing pad.

"Copy, moving in." The pilot nodded. The ship moved over the plaza, and hovered over 40 feet above the flat ground. Red exited his seat and walked into the bay. The soldiers inside looked at him. There were three fireteams. Red turned to them. "Alright, listen here. We're going in. We're going to enter a tourist destination on the side of the mountain. This is a search and rescue, we need to find survivors, and bring them to a safe location." Red pulled out a holo map, showing the layout of the resort. "We're going to touch down in the main plaza. First, we need to secure the landing spot. We'll rappel down and set up a perimeter. Once the transport touches down, we'll move in further, while Fire team Foxtrot stays behind to guard the transport. Fire teams Indigo and Kilo, we'll move in. We're here to find the civilians, and help them back to the transport. Remember: consider all those infected as hostile. We go weapons-free, neutralize all hostile targets. Always make sure who you're shooting at is actually hostile and infected, we don't want any civilian casualties. Always keep your suits and helmets on. If you have a breach, let us know, and we'll help you back to the transport, so we can take you back to a safe location, but we have to know. Understand?" Red told them. They affirmed their reply, showing that they understood what the plan was. "May the Force be with us." Red said.

"Prepare for insertion." The pilot said over the intercomm. The other soldiers stood up, waiting for the doors to slide open.

Then, the doors opened. They were finally exposed to the outside, but with their advanced filters and vacuumed sealed armor, they should be quite fine. Ropes deployed off the sides, dropping down to the ground. "Go go go!" Red told them. They grabbed the ropes, and rappelled down. The ones equipped with jumppacks just jumped out, and activated their jumppacks for a smooth landing. Red grabbed one of the ropes, and rappelled down. He reached the ground, and moved out to the fireteams. They had fanned out in a circle, setting up a perimeter. They all reported in, showing that the landing area was clear. "Bring it in." Red told the pilot.

The transport came down, and landed on the ground. "Fire team Foxtrot, set up heavy weaponry and mounted guns. Anything rushes at you, first make sure it is infected, then if it is, take it down. Indigo, Kilo, let's move out." Red ordered. The two fire teams followed him. They moved through the empty plaza. Trash littered the ground.

They came across a group of survivors. "Don't worry, we're here to get you out of here." Red told them. He turned to the medics. "Check them out." He ordered. The medics moved forward and pulled out handheld scanners. They started scanning the civilians. "Scans are showing clear, sir." One of the medics told him. "Alright, held to our transport. Tell the soldiers there that we sent you, and that you're not infected. Their medics will check you, and if you check out okay, they'll let you on board." He said to the civilians. The survivors nodded and headed for the transport.

One of the civilians turned to Red. "There are more inside resort. Most of them got infected, so we had to hide or kill them. There are still infected in the resort." The civilian told Red. Red nodded, "Thank you for the information, we'll get them out of there." Red assured the survivor. The survivor nodded and headed to the transport.

Red and the two fire teams headed further into the resort. They reached a door, and they opened it. Inside, the hallways were dark. The lights were out, and it seemed devoid of life. They entered the resort, and lights turned on on their helmets and their blasters. Red switched his visor to infrared, seeing the heat signatures in the resort. "Alright, let's move. Carefully." Red took the lead. They passed multiple doors. The squad members opened them and searched through, but found nothing.

Red approached one of the doors. He opened it, and inside was a family, huddled in a corner. There was a father, mother, and small daughter. The father had a small blaster pistol. Red held up his hands."I'm friendly. We're here to get you out." Red assured them. They looked terrified. They kept on glancing at a closet on the other side of the room. Red understood. They had managed to trap an infected in the closet. Red nodded and moved to the closet. He slowly opened the door.


Nothing happened.


Then, nothing happened.


Then, suddenly, and an infected sprang out at him. Red raised his rifle and blasted the infected. The infected fell, dead, it's life signs dropping. Red exhaled. That was close. "Come on, it's dead." Red told the family. They got up shakily and followed him. Red regrouped with the squad. "You find any survivors, bring them with us. We're too far from the transport for them to reach it safely" Red told them.

They proceeded through the building, finding a couple of more survivors. By now, they had ten survivors in their group. They hadn't seen anymore infected. Which was what worried Red. Where were they? There must be more, but where? And where were the rest of the survivors. They continued to search through the resort, and Red continued to think about these worries.

They entered a courtyard/garden of some sorts. There, a camp of survivors turned to them wide-eyed. This made 23 survivors they have found in total.Red explained to the survivors why they were here, and the medics ran their tests. They came up clear. "Are there anymore people here?" Red asked. A civilian stepped forward and said, "Yes, we sent out three people to find more suppli-" Then, a loud scream pierced the air. The civilian stopped speaking, and everyone there turned and listened to the scream. It sounded horrifying, a pure pain driven scream. Red turned to two of his soldiers, a shocktrooper and a medic. "You two, with me." Red told them. They nodded and followed him. Red ran through the courtyard, moving towards where the screaming was coming from.

They turned a corner, and there, a scene of pure terror was emerging. Two bodies, covered in blood and guts, were lying on the floor, surrounded by pools of blood. Then, there was one more person. A woman of about 23, lying on the floor, screaming her lungs out. Her legs had been ripped off and dragged into the shadows. The medic crouched down to her. He started to examine her. The shock trooper beside Red looked horrified. "Hey, you with me trooper?" Red asked the soldier. The soldier nodded. "Y-yeah. I'm good. Just... That's a terrible way to die." The shock trooper admitted. "Yeah, it is."He agreed. They stood there, in silence, while the medic examined the woman, with the only sound breaking the silence was the woman's sobs. The medic stood up and walked over to them. "It isn't good. She's lost a lot of blood, and she might even be infected. She might not make it on the trip back to the shuttle." The medic told Red. Then, a low, guttural growl came from the shadows. They all snapped in that direction, weapons ready. Red noticed in his visor it was only one infected, they could handle it.

But no, wait, then there was two. Then four, and soon more and more could be seen through Red's visor. "She's coming with us. No one gets left behind." He said firmly. The medic nodded and picked her up, and put her over his shoulders. "We need to go. Now." He said. The two agreed with him, and they booked it out of there.

They ran back to the camp. "We need to leave. Now. There's a horde coming." Red told them. His soldiers nodded, and the survivors were grateful to be leaving.

And so, they hurried back to the transport. They ran through the courtyard, towards the transport, as fast as they could. Thy were allowed through the perimeter, and the medics started to check the survivors. Then, one of the soldiers yelled, "Incoming!" He yelled. Then, across the courtyard, the horde emerged. There was quite a lot of them. "Open fire!" Red yelled.

And so they did. The soldiers opened fire on the horde, as the horde started running for them. Blaster fire started cutting through them. They started falling, but they were unfazed and continued to advance. So they kept on firing. The heavy mounted guns unleashed their torrent of fire into the swarm. The blaster fire echoing through the courtyard.

The medics started hurrying up. Still, there were a lot more survivors to check. Red joined the firing line, opening fire into the mob. His fire cut down many of the infected, but they kept on coming. Red threw a detonator into the horde, and the explosion wiped out a large chunk in them, but was quickly refilled by more of the infected. They kept on coming, so they kept on shooting.

Then, on the other side of the courtyard, more infected burst out of the resort. They were surrounded. Some of the soldiers shifted to that side and started shooting at them.

Red continued to gun down the infected. There were just so many. Then, one of the infected managed to make it to the firing line and leaped at one of the soldiers. It tackled it the soldier and started gnawing viciously at him and clawed at him. The soldier yelled for help, and Red heard him. Red rush the infected and stabbed it in the side of the neck, but that didn't stop it. Red tackled it to the ground, and they started rolling around in the vicious fight. Red then dragged the knife all the way around, and the infected's head popped off. The head and body fell to the ground, dead.

"Are you hurt?" Red asked. Then, the soldier looked at him. He slowly showed him his right arm. Red looked at it. There, blood was coming out. There was a massive gash on his arm, and his suit was breached. "Breach!" Red yelled. One of the medics came over and patched the soldier up. The medic administered bacta to the wound, then bandaged it up. The medic helped the soldier inside the transport so that he could work on him further.

"Sir! We're done!" The medics told him. "Alright, everyone in the transport! Leave the heavy weaponry behind!" Red told the soldiers. They moved back inside the transport still firing into the swarm. Red stayed behind, he would cover their escape. Once the last soldier got onboard, Red climbed aboard. The pilot took off.

But, the infected were not done yet. One of them grabbed hold of the transport, and held on. It grabbed and clawed at them. Red shot it, then kicked it in the face. The infected fell back, and down to the ground. The transport flew away from the mountain resort.

The doors of the transport shut, and the artificial lights came on. It was fairly crowded now, with all of the survivors in there with them. The medics were patching up the two wounded, or running even more scans on the survivors. Red got back into the co-pilot's seat. He reopened the commlink channel. General Terrik would want the report. "General Terrik, do you copy? This is Sergeant Red. The mission has been completed. We found and rescued any survivors we could find, but our investigation was cut short by a large group of infected. We were not able to hold the mountain, so as per your orders we were forced to pull out to avoid casualties. We picked up twenty-four civilians, and we had no deaths. We do have two wounded, one of them is a civilian, she... was attacked by the infected, but she managed to survive, but lost her legs in the encounter. She will not last long without getting to a medical base. The other is one of our soldiers. He was jumped by an infected, but I killed it. He has a large gash on his arm, and his suit has been compromised. His is easier to treat, but the medics are afraid he might be infected. Other than those two, the mission went flawless, and was a success." Red reported to her,

 

[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 | Yuroic Xeraic | Vytal Noctura | Kas Varad | Darth Miseria | Xobos Yakieer | Kirk Tektus | Kyyrk | Credius Nargath | BX-72967 | Junko Ike | Alessandra Creed | Kirk Tektus | Maracel Yorkell II | Ben Craig | Kaden Farr | Anakwor Farlorn | The Monster | Luna Terrik | Subject 73 Red | Ben Craig | Prennis Keeoli | Kyyrk | Kiff Brayde | Tobias Wrynn

It was like looking at a chessboard in a way, the network John had created stretched all the way across the planet. Every soldier, every piece of equipment that the CIS fielded had become a node in the network. Everyone was linked, every byte of information could be examined, scrubbed and re-examined by John, by any other analyst who wanted to look at it. It might be the Grand Marshall trying to plan the next move in her campaign to re-establish control in Xam’Chi, or the nightmother watching for the approach of more threats to her position.

Or it might be himself, stepping back and looking at the whole picture, at his chessboard come to life. John hardly had to do anything now, a small touch here, a tweak there. His job had fallen back to an overwatch position now, the strategy had been set, had been locked in place, all that was left was the implementation, and that was a task best left to the battlefield commanders on the ground. They wouldn’t appreciate the minister sitting there, armchair quarterbacking the plays, riding on their shoulders and second-guessing their every decision, but at the same time…it was so hard to resist that he found he really couldn’t. The cyborg did his best to stay silent, not to interfere, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking, from getting interested and just listen in here and there. He was the proverbial angel on the shoulder, but it made it so much easier for him to allocate troops and resources if he knew exactly what was going on. He’d ask forgiveness later if he had to.

John’s position at the centre of the spiderweb of a communication network he’d constructed meant that he could listen in on all the Confederate traffic. Most of it just flew by him, an almost background noise while he worked, the data being shunted to their targets by the processors he’d requisitioned for the task. Some items though, some stood out to him, were flagged for his attention to deal with. Requests for aid, for more supplies, they all routed through him as John doled out the dwindling resources the Confederacy had brought with them. The rapidly dwindling resources. They’d thought this was a humanitarian mission and had come packed accordingly, while they were coping with the current crisis…they couldn’t keep this up for much longer without starting to fall short. The supplies High Marshall Brayde had brought would help, but they really needed to regain control of production centres as soon as possible. Only…the CDF forces on the ground were having a tough enough time just containing the threat, let alone pushing it back. For now, all John could do was just keep triaging and rotating the supplies as he needed to keep the machine moving and trust Grand Marshall Terrik to do her job.

Not every message was about the war being waged on the ground…well ok every message was about the war somehow, even tangentially. Even his communications with Alessandra Creed were really about the spread of the virus, about her situation with respect to it’s spread. John could almost hear the weariness in her voice, the exasperation. What else could he do though? If he could reach out to help he would, but as it was,

“I’ll make sure that they have their orders in place before they get to you. Good luck Alessandra.”

No sooner had he said goodbye, signing off from his friend before another conversation being transmitted over the airwaves caught his attention. A doctor wondering about the strategy that was being employed across the surface. A quick blink, a stream of data fleeting over John’s vision aas he recognised her, Prennis Keeoli , connected to Kyyrk himself. Deeper, the man pushed himself further into the networks, data streaming around him as a droid turned their head towards Prennis, a ghostly blue and white image of the Minister appearing in front of her.

“You’re not incorrect Doctor Keeoli, in the face of the virus, of it’s possibly debilitating effects establishing quarantines, medical camps isn’t going to be an effective strategy. It’s as you say, a fools errand, but, we’re a small group, just a handful of us and our droids and we have a whole planet to try to keep calm. Maybe we can find a cure, maybe we can’t. but that hope that the camps offer, that chance for protection and salvation, that’s what we offer, that’s all we can offer.”


The man reached up, running his hand through his hair in a well practice frustrated gesture.

“I can’t offer the people here anything else, and all our resources, all our supplies, all they can really do is make them more comfortable if we can’t find a cure for the virus. Unless anyone has any other alternatives, it’s all we’ve got. Maybe by spreading out we can slow it’s spread, by ourselves just that little bit more time.”

No sooner had John finished talking than his image tilted his head to the side, a different message coming in, demanding his attention. With so many cries on his attention, he was starting to feel stretched, torn between the competing demands, balancing all the information, the conversations in his head.

“Viceroy Nargath, I’m clearing your vessel to enter the atmosphere and sending them a flightplan to your position now. Please make sure the crew know, once they land, they won’t be leaving the planet again. At least not until we’re successful at combatting the virus. If they try they will be fired on and destroyed.”

They couldn’t risk this virus getting off-world, any ships on the planet would stay right there, even his. At least they were containing the infected, that was something to be thankful for at least. John growled as he heard the crackle of Kas Varad ‘s message reached out over the network.

“Fulcrum, this is Central, message received, be careful out there, we don’t know what other surprises they might have waiting for you.”

A sigh, another message sent out over the whole network.

“All Confederacy units, this is Minister Locke, it appears the infected are starting to burrow underground. Be aware of your surroundings and watch one another’s backs. If you see anything further, anything unusual, please reach out and let me know.”

When it rained it poured more data, more logistics. Slowly, ever so slowly John felt himself drowning beneath the piles of data he’d summoned to try to co-ordinate a response. They really needed some good news right now.

 

[Damsy Callat]

​

S A V E​

​

Form: Humanoid { unturned } | Post: 03 | Tags: Luna Terrik Tiria Reinhart Anakwor Farlorn Prennis Keeoli Darth Metus ​

Callsign: Omega Actual | Allegiance: Confederacy of Independent Systems |​

Location: Kan Lwai Fong | Equipment: Hydroarmor / electrotrident / dartgun / rifle w. bayonet / medkit / grenades |​

​

Nanban's, itself, was next to silent. Omega was making almost no sound either as they fidgeted down the road compared to the hiss-clunk of walker legs behind them driven first by hydraulics and then overwhelming gravity. The echoes of Alpha's engagements around them only served to rile up the men, but in a nervous sort of way, worsened by the fact nothing - no one - met them in their path.​

​

I bet they screw us at the river. The sithling was calling it now for as soon as they spotted the rendezvous. Because of course they would. Why would this day go right for a second? Damsy led the advance with trident in hand, partially extended and already sparking, with head to the sky and butt to the ground. It'd be easier to throw this way. Ever she scanned the empty store fronts for the first hint of danger. Behind her, she knew her commandos did the same.​

​

They listened to Tiria's warnings over their integrated comms. Soon after, the men broke their verbal sound discipline as one asked of another in hushed tone, "Think these freaks have schuttas?" The question came as the troop passed by an abandoned business advertising a particular service. Probably not, Damsy's mind automatically answered. But then she wondered what it was that the undead masses did when they ran out of warm bodies to gnaw.​

​

She wondered no longer when her predator's hearing, acclimated through her helmet to atmosphere rather than sea depth, picked up on fast approaching footfalls - but a patter in the distance, hyperfocused through the surrounding combat cacophony. Damsy held her idle hand high up, backwards, palm out. The boots behind her halted. A Scorpion gently eased its foot caught mid-step down to the cobblestone.​

​

Yes. No doubt.​

​

"Ready!!" All at once, the vertical line became horizontal, a living wall between the enemy and the armored duo. Damsy pushed herself back into to line just in time to spot the incoming wave. She aimed at the frontrunner, backed up even further, and heaved her throw. The trident planted into the infected's neck, and then him into the ground. The weapon's shaft tripped up a few more before a shower of blaster bolts, infantry and walker fire, plowed into the crowd.​

​

"Cease fire!" The order came after a few eternal minutes, and all rifles clicked as they were hesitantly lowered. "Let's move! Heads on a swivel!" Once again, Damsy head the push. When she came upon the fallen swarm, she reached down for her trident. Commandos marched on without her. Wrapping her hand around the golden hilt, she tugged. It didn't come free, so she slid her hand down towards the prongs and - "Kark!" A lone blast fell the undead...undead. Damsy glanced over her shoulder to Omega's medic holstering his pistol. Lisewise, the senior captain rehomed her melee weapon. "Thanks, Kaal."​

​

On they went, at the river in no time.​

​

Tiria had been instructed to meet Omega near the canal. As Omega waited, Damsy ordered both walkers to sit at strategic locations across from the seacliffs that extended below the castle. Next, her men climbed to the top, five to one and six to the other as Damsy remained on the ground with one of the LAPW's crew. They offloaded the cargo they had been carrying in anticipation for this hookup. "Captain Callat!" First Lieutenant Maleki called to her. "Alpha's counts are short one."​

​

Without hesitation, Damsy swung her rifle under her arm, detached her grapple, and threw in onto the pile. Suddenly, her hand stung. When met with his raised eyebrow, she explained, "I'll figure it out." Not a lie, technically, but spoken just in time for Alpha's approach. She joked, a hidden smile on her face, "Long time no see, Reinhart. Your men need these." She pointed to the equipment, then the cliffs, then the walkers. "Hope no one's scared of heights. We're propelling from the heads to the clifftops, then we'll climb to the Palace basement. Demonstration, Berrezz?"​

​

He peeked over the walker, grinning wildly. "You got it, Cap. Just try to keep up." First addressing Damsy, then Tiria. Berrezz proceeded to do just what Damsy had play-by-played, boots landing on the pristine white foundation below the planetary generators, and began to climb. "Easy as eatin' pie!" he exclaimed over his squad comm. When she went to reply, pressing her wrist comm, she smeared blood over it. She turned over her hand and saw blood pooling on her blacks in a large crescent moon. Quickly, she wrapped her hand in her combat cape. The stains wouldn't shown against the black. Whatever the cost, she had to see this through.​

​

Once the entirety of both squads had made their jumps, Damsy shook Maleki's hand with her uninjured one. "Thanks for the lift. Get back to scouting. I'll swim over." That was a lie. There was only one thing left to do, and it wasn't that. He affirmed her order, then he led the way back into the Red Light District for his wingman. After they were a ways on, she changed her frequency to the greater Confederacy's from local Dauntless'. She cleared her throat, trying to reject the emotion already scalding her throat. "Command—" She started off well enough, voice chapped by nature and not oncoming death, but stopped for a different reason. It didn't feel right for her last words to be so formal, Dauntless or not.​

​

So she began again: "It's Damsy." She glanced over to the Palace, where the squads were moving up to the basement floor. "Alpha and Omega are scaling Xiaolang as we speak." She swallowed thickly. She could easily leave it at that, but Luna deserved to hear it as it was from her, not how it might have been from Berrezz. "I'm...no longer an asset. But the misson'll get done, Luna, I swear. Tiria's got it." With the heel of her palm, Damsy swiped at the tears running down her cheeks. They were mostly silent, but soon enough she began to sputter. It became worse as she actively fought to keep the floodgates closed. "It's been an absolute honor serving with you and the Dauntless. I'm just sorry I gotta go like this.​

​

"Tell A'Runda I love him and will see him again on Tatooine." She thought about the beautiful face he had under those wrappings. It made her sad that she had only gotten to glimpse the surface of such a perfectly formed star once. When the picture of her beloved cuddlefish fell away, her voice stabilized if only by a bit. She had so many more testaments to make, but she could feel her pulse beating lava, so she made the one that meant the most, to her and, hopefully, to him. "Daddy?" she called, hopeful that he was there. If he wasn't, maybe someone who was would record it for him, but may he have mercy on that poor soul. "I'm sorry. As chit as you were, you don't deserve forgiveness like this - now of all times. All I care about is you came back for me. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum."​

​

I love you.​

​

Let me go, she thought with a vague understanding of how the Force worked. Don't alchemize me back. Please. She was begging - she had played the Pazaak cards life had dealt her once, but she refused to do it again. The existence of a Sithspawn might have been better than none, though only by a little.​

​

Damsy yanked off her helmet and tossed it onto the bumpy street, sending it clattered away as she turned to face the drop-off into the river. Unclasping her Kaminoan dartgun from its thigh holster, she made sure her comms were all disconnected before training the weapon on herself...​

​

​

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

S A V E​

Callsign: Alpha Actual
Objective: Quarantine Xam'chi - Secure Government Buildings
Equipment: Project Xiphos Armor | Modular Tri-Blaster | Micro Light Shield | Bayonet | Cryo Grenade (2) | Fragmentation Grenade (2) | Thermal Detonator (2)
Allied: Luna Terrik | Damsy Callat | Allies in Xam'Chi
Enemy: Slaad | Xenro | Darth Immortuos | Infected in Xam'Chi

Alpha Squad strode out from the three streets and began to coalesce as they moved toward the river rendezvous. Captain Reinhart visually looked at the other two commanders to make sure there weren't any signs of something having gone sideways as they'd made their way to the seat of power. She also noted the civilians they'd managed to coax out of hiding from the street. Why had they been slower than Omega, which left later and with heavy machinery? Because Alpha hadn't double-timed it on point. A delay here or there would hopefully add up to their mission success in the long run.

Tiria motioned the commandos to come up short and await orders. Alpha's Captain continued forward toward Omega's. "Callat." An unnecessary turn of the head regarded the vehicles Damsy had chosen to bring along. The woman's voice drew the visor back down to regard the equipment and then the cliffs ahead.

"Alpha. Gear up, line up. You're jumping or you're swimming." Because everyone knew swimming in non-aquatic suits was ever so easy. It wasn't like there was a very probable chance of drowning at all. No, everyone was jumping. Omega wasn't going to giggle like school girls later because someone stayed behind afraid of a little height. They'd trained for this. They were commandos, not security guards.

The Captain did have to saddle the scouts Damsy had enlisted with the civilians found along the way, however. They would not be jumping, and obviously they couldn't just stand out in the open along a river.

On the other side, Reinhart signaled all commandos to begin scaling. Now wasn't time to take a break and admire the apocalyptic scenery. They were within reach of their Primary Objective, and seconds might very well count between meeting it and losing everything. Who knew what condition the defenses above had held, or whether the people inside had isolated themselves sufficiently.

"If you have time to look, you have time to climb," Tiria snapped when she caught sight of one commando looking to one side. She paused to look down and to either side at those climbing to make sure they were on pace. Only then did she spare a glance off to the side. No words followed whatever her eyes laid sight on. Just that quickly, the Captain began ascending once more. No enemies coming at them from the sides or below. No Damsy in the water either.

At the top of the cliff, Tiria hauled herself over and got to her feet. Her hand reached back to pull the carbine free again. "Form up. Cruz, take a team and scout the surround. Find out if there's an undead swarm in the area, and a quick way to get civilians across the river." She strode between the men to keep their attention on her, and draw it away from the river. "Berrezz," Tiria's visor turned toward the man from below, "got a team ready to take the lead?" Rhetorical question, no doubt. When was Omega not ready? "Then let's not waste any more time. We'll sweep the interior for survivors. Keep a tight defense; do not let the carriers get between you. Drop them fast. Drop them hard. You're doing them a favor."

"Move out."

 

[Eira Talon]

Location: Xam’ Chi streets
Tags: Gerwald Lechner Kas Varad The Monster

Spoiler: Our condensed quotes to make our storyline easier to follow

“Suggest being elsewhere...”

And then they came in droves, the earth breaking behind them, any mud, patch of grass, or garden a danger. Hands clasping and reaching up. So many came he ran dry firing that fusion rifle, its automatic rate impressive but the ammo didn’t last forever. A grenade was tossed into the largest hole forming, muffling the explosion that came. Cocking the weapon to drop the power cell to the ground, Kas looked for a replacement, but with all the bodies coming up he didn’t have time to reload before a zombie had literally grabbed the rifle from his hands bursting up beside the Mandalorian.

“AND I SUGGEST FAST” Kas said kicking himself free and turning to the others.

"If she's the Exarch or one of their charges she's literally 2 klicks that way," he pointed towards the way they were going "And she's in a crashed gunship, so if you want to live long enough to see them, get behind me-"

A screech in front of them interrupted Sergei speaking, but it wouldn't last long as the other operative gunned down the infected and Sergei didn't waste any more time.

"WE HAVE TO MOVE NOW! Stay behind me! Connor cover the right flank we have to punch through, no time for fancy or quiet, GO LOUD!" He was direct with his orders, displaying his experience and only raising his voice so that the others could hear him.
. And then as if on cue, a single GS-77 came screaming overhead raining laser fire both behind the small group and in front of them providing temporary, but much needed relief. Sergei took the chance and seized the moment.

"RUN! CONNOR MAKE SURE NO ONE FALLS BEHIND!"

The other operative would wait for the last two to pass him, before taking off in a sprint as Sergei ran like his and the rest of their lives depended on it. Because it honestly did. They had no more time, they just had to move and hope that another opening would present itself to get out of the pinch they were in.

​

He looked up at Eira with a look that said they needed to get out of there. If she would just get on his back on least then Gerwald could run her to safety. Gerwald barked at her.​

​

The ground began to swell. Even with the other troops coming in to wipe out the rest of the hoard. Something else was coming, and based on the size of the tremors, Gerwald knew this was something big. A swell of dirt turned into a massive hill. A massive arm came out of the ground followed by another. What came out of the ground looked like a sith spawn experiment that went wrong. It was massive, and it was infected. Gerwald tugged at Eira. It was time to get her out of there while the other troops dealt with the big boss man.​

Eira’s first instinct was to fight. For a moment she obeyed it, the girl catching the assault of a zombie popping up on her side and deftly sweeping their legs out from under them. She brought her foot down on their throat, collapsing it. It wasn’t enough. There were more. Countless more.

It was then that she thought it might be a good idea to run. She was headstrong, but not stupid. For some reason she could feel what Niquis wanted from her. She didn’t think long on the strange sensation— it was as if his little pup mind possessed human intent. In the chaos, she looked to him. And listened.

The girl tossed herself onto his back, her legs kicking over both sides. Her cloak flared open to reveal peaks of skin. He was large— larger than her certainly. Eira was light. Small. Compact. She fit easily behind his shoulder blades, her fingers wrapping around fur. A monsterious creature exploded from the ground, raining gravel down on them in painful chunks. It wasn’t human in any span of his life. She could only gape in contorted horror.

Run, The others ordered. She really didn’t need to be told things twice today. She clung tight to Niquis’ form as he shot off with her— an Echani riding on a wolf’s back.

 

[Taiia Locke]

.​

Location: Atrisia
Wearing: This
With: Vytal Noctura
Tagging: Shamira Karuto | Scàth Mhaolàin | Felurian Malvern | Tireya Syvare | Aisha | Alluria Ivalice | John Locke | Darth Assimilus​

​

All it took was three simple words to halt her forward advance and then the red-haired woman turned back to the Nightmother to see what she was about to do. She suddenly announced they too needed and army. Perplexed for only a moment she watched as the Nightmother called to the spirits and raised an army from the deceased, her emerald eyes widening slightly. She stood transfixed watching this newly raised army take shape and slowly march into Jar'kai ahead of them, she too resumed her own forward march behind the army. Taking a forward position ahead of Shamira she entrusted the flanks to her and her magic while she and her lightstaff lead the way. The only sounds ahead of her were the shuffling of the dead and the footfalls of the brothers and sisters to her rear, her eyes ever forward and to the sides her lightstaff humming quietly.​

At least until the relative calm gave way to a thunderous volley of blaster fire. The bolts flew into their general direction. Without a moments pause she spun her lightstaff to begin deflecting bolts and spun her own body around in rapid fluid motions as the accuracy of each shot improved. The staff alone quickly became insufficient and in a quick motion she with one hand unlatched her staff and split the blade into two sabers so that she could deflect the bolts even faster. It seemed in a strangely comforting way the weaponry was not meant for them, it was simply that they were in the line of fire though that was little consolation as she deflected what she could while sidestepping some of the larger blaster bolts and shouting a warning to those behind. “Nightmother, we might want to try another approach” she yelled back her silver blades twirling rapidly to keep the volley away from them, the volley forcing her to give ground slowly, she would not be able to sustain this for long.​

 

[Vytal Noctura]

C O N T A I N


Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions

Tag: Shamira Karuto | Taiia Locke | John Locke | BX-72967 | Darth Assimilus | Scàth Mhaolàin | Felurian Malvern | Tireya Syvare | Aisha | Alluria Ivalice | Mandragora | Knights Obsidian​

"The Forbidden Palace. The seat of power for this broken city," the Nightmother replied as Shamira Karuto sought clarification as to their purpose here.​

​

With Mythos suddenly absent after ignoring the viral threat running free within the city, and following Vytal's demonstration, their need to crush outer wall defenses had been minimal. While the ease was convenient, it was also a foreboding warning of the fight to come. While Jar'Kai had not been full restored from the pinnacle of its ancient power, it had a surprising number of residents. Few of which remain to oppose them. The virus was have focused its assault here -- on Mythos.​

​

Perhaps it had focused on Jar'Kai an effort to prevent it from being caught between two powers? A wise and yet self-defeating move. If all else failed, the planet could be sterilized with no one left to second-guess about morality. Vytal, however, didn't plan on abandoning Atrisia to that fate.​

​

As they marched on the city, Vytal's green eyes scanned the road ahead as bolts began to light up the forlorn world. A sharp grunt followed the first volley. Taiia Locke stepped forward to begin deflecting some of the bolts as they honed in on their position from a distance. Though that would only last so long, as the young woman called out for a different tactic -- something more than stand and be gunned down. Without looking behind her, the pale Witch called out, "Shield Wall. Disperse the energy. Absorb it if you can." Energy absorption on such a scale was pretty rare, but for those among them capable they may as well make use of the enemy's volley.​

​

John Locke's message about the enemy being underground then came in over the link. A complication, but not one she was particularly worried about. AAs the mystic energy was conjured and brought to bear, Vytal stretched out her gauntlet and clenched it into a fist. "Spirits, attack," she commanded the first wave of spirits to streak toward the city. A feint to what was to come to keep those turbolasers occupied.​

​

"Shamira, Taiia," Vytal looked to the two nearest her. "Lend me your hands and your power. We have tarried long enough in wait of reinforcements and information. Now is when we strike the enemy in with the fury of tens of thousands of souls." The crystal lattice of the Nightmother's armor would aid with the combining of the Witch trio's power. Before the magick manifested, Vytal looked to one side, "BX-72967, have the droids ready to engage the enemy. Cover us as we head for the Palace."​

​

The spiritual energies began to swirl before the women. It coalesced into a green tunnel that connected a point further ahead, wreathed in green flame. At the other end giant roots had erupted from the ground heedless of concrete or any other substance to form the frame for the rupture in space. The magicks of the two women contributed to the spell manifested themselves as fire and life reflecting their natures. If fortune favored the Mandragora and Knights Obsidian as a whole, the exit would be at the foot of the Palace steps. With the way things had gone so far, however, the Nightmother suspected it would drop them in the midst of the enemy where they would be forced to make a mad dash for the heart of power in the city to keep from being surrounded.​

​

They would only need to hold the chamber for a minute as the Witches assembled to carve the planet into pieces to contain the threat. What happened then would be up to others in the Confederacy. Vytal would stem the spread of the disease; they did not have enough of their number present to mass-cure the infected of the plague that infested them.​

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Symara Tarriq]

​

In the time of fighting and woe, in a time of conflict and death, only the strong would survive. Dr. Helfyld knew this and enjoyed the torture of Nuyen City. The Confederacy was so focused on Jar'Kai and Xam'Chi that they had neglected the rest of the planet. No doubt Darth Assimilus and Slaad were keeping many occupied with their presence alone. It allowed the good doctor to work as she pleased without interruption, even now as she smirked with contaminants being spilled into the Seoulpa River. "Oops, how terribly clumsy of me," she remarked as she kicked over another barrel of radioactive waste. "Oh dear, well, it is a good thing that the Confederacy has so much money," Helfyld laughed.​

​

The Doctor focused the Force around her and twisted it into the river, "so much money that I am so sure that Atrisia will recover almost, instantaneously. A droid labor force and a multi-billion credit card typically helped on these matters. "So woe to the poor who cannot escape the Ranctious Order's path, woe to the weak and sick who are not able to move as fast and praise be to the riches and the healthy of the Confederacy who can afford the luxury of escape." Dr. Helfyld sang such a happy tune, with a melancholy flavor. ​

​

"Next stop, Xam'Chi..." She whispered to herself as she watched waters glow a hazardous green. "After all who doesn't like glow in the dark water?"​

​

​

​

 

[The Monster]

Theme: Do or die, there is no try. I am worthy.
Tagged: Eira Talon Gerwald Lechner Kas Varad Darth Empyrean Srina Talon Luna Terrik
​

Sergei had been leading the group when the ground started bulging from below ahead of them, and looked behind him, the others were still catching up. And then he saw the hand reach through the ground and slam before him. He froze for a few fateful seconds as his mind immediately saw what was before him. A monstrosity of godly proportions. What the hell was that thing?! And then his mind flashed back to years ago, back home.

He was doing one of the many CQB courses, this one focusing on trying to use nothing but your fists and feet to escape. His instructor told him one thing.

"Act,"

And then he threw a punch that was aimed straight at Jack's jaw. He raised his left arm to block, but by the time he did so, the instructor grabbed his throat with the other hand and slammed him into the ground in a brutal display of merciless strength and prowess. His snarl was enough for them all to know his displeasure at Sergei's actions.

"I said act! Not think about what I'm doing! If you let your enemy dictate the terms of the engagement, if you let him put you on the defense, you are dead! Stop thinking and act! You are going to get hit! You will be stabbed! You will be shot! Stop worrying about it and act like men!"

He then picked up Sergei roughly and dragged him to his feet, eyes still burning from the blow earlier. He looked him in the eyes, full of rage, hate, malice. They were the eyes of a killer.

"Act, or die,"

He threw an upper cut this time, but this time Sergei didn't bother blocking. He rushed forward and slammed his head into his instructor's, and got the man to miss his strike, following with a right cross. Now it was a proper fist fight, but this time Sergei was on the offense. He drove his instructor back, never letting up, never back down, shrugging off blows just so he could land his own in turn. When it came to a head he saw his instructor throw a haymaker intended to cold clock him, and Sergei countered this with a leg sweep. His blow caught the instructor exactly as he missed the top of his head, and he lost his footing tumbling to the ground. But Sergei wasn't done, as he brought his foot up as he spun in an axe kick, landing on the man's sternum, and then quickly went into an arm bar and dislocated the instructor's shoulder. It was so fast that he wasn't even thinking about his actions, he just did what came to him, attack. When he finally stopped and let go, the instructor had a grin across his face despite all the pain.

"You see it now Jack? Your survival depends on acting and doing what needs to be done, the mission must be completed. If you stop to worry about the hows, you risk the mission. So don't think, do. The road to life is paved with the bodies of those who didn't move,"

And then as the instructor forcibly popped his shoulder back into place, the memory faded, and Sergei snapped back to reality.

His Big Iron Hand Cannon was in his hand, and he looked up at the beast, and knew exactly what to be done. Extract the civilians, the Exarch, and keep that thing away from them. At all costs. He popped the cylinder open of his Big Iron with practiced ease and selected a white speed loader marked IWP from his belt. He flicked the disrupter cartridge out and inserted the rounds, clicking the chamber in place with a flick of his wrist, and drew a red flare from his belt.

"Connor, hold this position, when the ship gets here, get everyone on board and take off. Under no circumstances are you to attempt pick up until I have the Exarch secure,"

"And you Jack?"

"Ego Sum Dignus," Sergei spoke calmly as he popped the flare, and then dropped the ignited flare. Connor turned around and relayed the information to the others to hold their position by the flare. Meanwhile Sergei raised his hand cannon and fired twice at the beast's face before charging, catching it just below its eyes. With a roar of anger at such insolence, the beast swiped at Sergei, who was now at a full sprint. He slid across the destroyed asphalt between the abominations legs, firing twice more up its chest sending more fire and white phosphorus into the beast. And when he reached the other side he took off at a run, and fired once more to get its attention. All the while more infected tried to swarm the remaining survivors, Connor taking the front and firing non-stop to keep the onslaught at bay.

And by now it was extremely pissed at this little fly who dared fire these painful burning rounds into its flesh. It turned to deal with this annoyance and left the rest to its lesser brethren.

---------Meanwhile above the fight taking place-------

The ship was watching all of this happen, seeing the other squad link in and catch the infected in a crossfire was something to behold truly. All according to plan the droid brain processed. But then this new combatant entered the fray, and the ship quickly assessed the threat level, and it was extreme. It queried firing its weapons, but the thing was too close, wait. It zoomed in as Sergei ignited and dropped a Combat LZ flare, and then charged the beast. The droid brain immediately understood the plan, loading all weapon systems as it came around for another pass, this time to do a quick combat extraction, where it would get 6 feet above the ground and drop cables for the civilians and military personnel to attach themselves to, to quickly board and either resupply ammo, or man on board weapon systems so the ship could devote more attention to flying and supporting those who would remain on the ground.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sergei ran like he was mad, drawing the beast to go into a lumbering walk behind him, roaring in unspoken rage and possibly how it was going to enjoy eviscerating him. But he didn't think about that. Instead he was counting meters. He had thirty meters since he'd started. Twenty-five, twenty, fifteen, ten, almost there. Finally Sergei reached his target area, towards the end of the street and he raised his Big Iron Hand cannon and fired the last round just to add insult to injury on the beast. It slapped the thing's chest, and it ignored the ship coming in above as it zoned in on it's prey. Sergei uttered one sentence into his comms for the ship as it reached it's hover landing, hosing down the nearby infected to get everyone cover to either load up or consolidate their position.

-----------------------------------------

"Priority one airstrike, all ordinance authorized,"

The droid brain processed the request and using Sergei's voice print overrode all safeties and turned all weapons directly at the beast's exposed back. It took a second for it to get target lock, as the thing was now white hot on FLIR due to the white phosphorus embedded and burning across its carcass. And then with a screech the missiles flew out, followed by a massive barrage of laser cannon and heavy laser cannon fire. This all slammed into the back of the beast with a thunderous boom, staggering the beast, but not quite killing it. As it cried out in pain at all the damage caused, the beast turned began to face the ship, the smaller lasers doing more damage, but the beast began lumbering back towards its new hated target.

"To all incoming passengers may I suggest utilizing the ship mounted weapons or heavy blaster rifles in the armory to provide fire support," it spoke in a kind tone as it took flight.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Sergei was a little surprised that the beast was still standing but quite hurt by the move, and with the flick of his wrist decided to end this. He raised his Big Iron and the now empty cartridge popped free, and Sergei reached onto his left thigh carrier, and pulled out six bullets that looked like long thin rods. He loaded them quickly but calmly, as he had to focus, and haste meant wasted time. All rounds loaded, he closed the chamber and took aim, giving the gun's onboard computer time to lock onto the target which was the giant hole in the beast's back. Once the red dot turned green, Sergei braced with two hands and squeezed the trigger like one might caress a woman. The resounding boom of the Armor Piercing Fin Stabilized Discarding Sabot round firing was much louder than Sergei expected, but the result of said round slamming into the open wound of the beast was more than spectacular. In an instant, the round transferred immeasurable amounts of energy into the monster's surrounding tissues, causing a ripple effect as it shredded whatever internals it might have had, and the with a massive display of blood and fire, caused the head of the thing to explode outward in a massive shower of blood, gore and bone. Sergei exhaled as he lowered the pistol, and allowed himself a second to think, if only to see which way the route lead and to notice that in the midst of their little fight, the infected had either disappeared elsewhere or been gunned down. Like they were called by something. Sergei cussed as pulled his Jackal ACR out and loaded a fresh magazine into the weapon and microgrenades into the launcher. They were close, and the sounds of battle hadn't dulled at all, but thankfully they had a few moments to breathe. He noticed his hands were shaking as he came down from the adrenaline rush, and willed them to stop, keeping it down for now as he had to focus, stay on top of the situation. He looked about him as he planned his next move.

 

[Kas Varad]

Nearby CIS Allies: Eira Talon | Gerwald Lechner | The Monster
Directly Engaging: [Open to Tango]
Objective: Upside the head.
Location: Xam'chi Outskirts.
Post: #5
Kit:

Spoiler

Armor: Cabur Beskargam, Weapons: 1x Fusion Rifle (Lost), 1x Icebreaker 2x Jackknifes, Melee: 1 x Basic Songsteel Sword, 1 x Force Pike, Grenade Belt: x(0/5) Mixed. (Thrown) Gear: Targeting Visor, Lifeform Detector, x1 Personal Shield (Off), 1x Cluster of Antibacs with Basic Medkit

Other troops making themselves known, the Crusader, wasn't sayin' no to more firepower about now, drawing his sonic concussion pistols and letting scream three-round bursts fly beside them all as they backed up. A Varad bootstomp to a zombie face or two to be sure.

F

What was that?

F

Well stack the furry nuggets in the freezer and wallop his whippets.

Always a bigger sith experiment. The Mandalorian was blasting off high to get a better angle again, these toothpicks he was holding were good for cracking open armor, mercifully ending the career of karaoke singer at the bar, or cutting down a zombie, what they didn't do well was big. Wolf and rider got clear, happy travels away from virus land. Well, see something new every day. Two somethings, this one reminding of his sister in law.

Covering his helmet as all manner of crap flew up from the ground, the ship churning up the ground and experiment both.

"Alright ugly. Know the steps?" From the air, priming each, Kas dropped the entire mixed grenade belt in front of the thing, aiming for its legs, a colorful display happening beneath him as they all went off. It growled and collapsed forward to its knees. Allowing The Monster to get a good shot lined up.

"Pretty" He remarked, as it caught Kas with its arm and sent the armored, cocky Mandalorian Varad flying, tumbling end over end. His rocket pack shorted out and he slid down the side of a building. “Eh, maybe not.” He groaned dazed, watching Sergi finishing off our bugly friend, and raised a thumb from his heap.

 

[Anakwor Farlorn]

S A V E
Captain Anakwor Farlorn
Caria First-and-Only "Forlorn" Ranger Regiment
Tags: Luna Terrik Damsy Callat Tiria Reinhart
Location: Xam'Chi, Slum marketplace
Objective: Survive
​

The marketplace was as silent as death with the rain beating a drum on the conjugated steel covering for the vast hall. Brown Company of First Battalion fanned out among the metal stalls. People had once thrived in this market - with the daily cheap goods of food, tools, and even more illicit goods congregating in this spot - but still, not a single soul was here. It wasn’t like they had shut down for the night, with the shops all closed up and shuttered.

Everything was still there. Fruits and produce lay rotting in their stands. Lights remained on. There were even credits still on counters. It was like they had all just decided to walk out. And might return at any moment.

“Don’t like this,” Trooper Arnob said as he walked behind a counter in a shop that used to be a wooden toymaker. He ducked behind the counter and began his work, leaning his rifle right next to him.

“You don’t like anything.” Said Paradus who stood guard outside. Looking side by side for anyone who might happen upon their activity.

“You heard what the other companies are saying. Ain’t anyone, anywhere. What’d you supposed happened to them?”

“Don’t know. Maybe they fled or something? I would from the stuff I’ve heard. We don’t even know what we’re facing.”

“Some sort of infection I guess. Makes people go insane. It’s definitely airborne. Why else would they have our heads? It’s probably spread across the whole planet. Who knows what it does? Probably got no cure knowing our luck. Again, don’t like it.”

“Shut your flesh hole, Arnob. Got it?”

“Give me another moment.” His masked head popped out from behind the counter and lifted up both his gloved hands. “You know how hard it is to work with these? It’s like trying to charge up a gal’s loading ramp with both your pants still on.” He said before disappearing down again.

“Can you do it? Longer we’re out here, the better chance. No doubt the Lieutenant’s gonna start wondering where we are.”

“Hey, I said it’s hard but it’s doable.”

“The gal or the box?”

“Both, if you’re me. Alright. Got it.” Arnob let out a long sigh. “Not much as we hoped, but still a decent amount. Was hoping for much more, though.”

“Anything still something. Hurry up, think I can hear footsteps.” Paradus said. Arnob popped back up with a handful of credits in his hand. He split it in half, pocketing his portion, and thew the rest to his partner. Arnob had never been the best thrower in the Rangers. He had been poor in throwing sports back home on lost Caria. In fact, his school coach had asked him politely to do apply for anything that didn’t involve the use of his two arms.

But even Paradus should have caught that. The credits hit the trooper on the face and he suddenly fell down. At the same time, the entire marketplace was filled the loud crack of thunder breaking over them. It was so loud that it reverberated around the closed space half a dozen times.

“Damn it, Para, stop playing around,” He paused abruptly. There was a widening pool of blood spreading out across the floor under Paradus’ head. His gas hood was singed black in a small circle in the back of his head. Blaster wound.

“Metus’ name!” He shouted loudly into his comms. He grabbed his rifle as blaster bolts sizzled into the store. He flipped over and took cover behind an antique table that was swiftly becoming a pile of antique matchwood. “I’ve got blaster contact on my position! Para’s dead! Dead!”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out something. It was a flat pocket mirror attached to a pin-mount. He hooked it over the muzzle of his weapon and lifted it above his head. A turn of the wrist and the mirror revealed the alleyway. A shape shrouded in darkness was firing full-auto from the hip. The shots were sloppy and the figure was clearly struggling with the heavy recoil.

The barrage stopped and the shadow looked at its weapon in confusion, even shaking it as if it would start firing again. Despite the fact his friend was dead, Arnob smiled. He popped out, lifted his rifle, aimed carefully, and fired a pair of bolts that hit it in the chest and one in the head. The figure jerked sharply back as if it had been strongly yanked by an invisible string.

Arnob stood up and placed three more shots in the corpse just to be sure. He knelt down next to the body of Paradus. He was clearly dead. He pulled out his friend’s mask. It didn’t feel proper to leave him like this. His pale face was strangely peaceful and unaffected, save for the small black dot in his forehead. Like he had just gone to sleep.

Footsteps were nearing him from a passageway to the side. He quickly pocketed Paradus’ credits. He wouldn’t need those anymore and they would only serve as loose ends.

Lieutenant Syna appeared around the corner followed by troopers Ludd, Rixar, and Corpsman Jantine.

“He’s dead,” Arnob said quietly. He pointed towards the enemy corpse. “Got the guy.”

“Damn it,” The Lieutenant shook his head. They were accustomed to losses. It was part of this savage job. “Jantine, Ludd check the body. See if we can any identification. Arnob, I’m going need your account of what happened here when I make my report to Captain Farlorn.”

“It was a jumpy civvie, I guess. The first thing I know is Para’s dead and I shot him.”

“Things happen. You did well trooper.” He patted the trooper on the shoulder. “Sad thing, Paradus was a good soldier.”

“Lieutenant?” Ludd yelled over. “Think we got a problem.”

Syna and the rest walked over to the body. “What’s wrong, Jantine?”

Arnob saw it clearly now as Jantine played his flashlight over the sprawled body. It was just an old man in ragged clothes. He had sunken cheek as if he had nothing decent on his plate for a month. His right eye was hanging out of his socket by a thin thread and the Rangers would have assumed it was from the headshot. Problem was that Arnob had only creased the back of his balding head.

“No way he could have gone on with that.”

“That’s not the main issue,” Jantine said. He brushed back the man’s rags to reveal red sores under his arms. His bulging veins were black. Something had bit his wrist, right down to the bone. The flesh surrounding that bite was spitting out massive amounts of puss. It didn’t seem to be an animal.

“Dental marks match Twi'lek teeth.”

“You know how Twi'lek teeth look like?” Arnob asked.

“Used to be a dentist on Caria, remember?” Arnob didn’t really talk with the quiet and reserved corpsman and every time he did he learned something suprising.

“No way a Twi’lek could have bit right to the bone.” Ludd stammered. “Just not possible. Maybe you’re mistaken because I’m pretty sure they can’t do that.”

“Nope,” He reached in with his gloved fingers, right into the bite wound. Everyone took a step back. Even though Arnob couldn’t hear with his hood on, he could imagine the terrible squelching noise. Jantine pulled something out and held it in his palm. Syna leaned in. It was a single yellowed blunt tooth. “Whoever bit this man was a female. In Twi’lek culture, the men sharpen all their teeth to a point, the women don’t.”

“You scare me with your knowledge of Twi’lek teeth.” Ludd laughed, but it was hollow. Clearly, the whole thing was unnerving everyone. “Is this… the infection?”

“Yeah, whoever bit this guy was infected. You would have to be the biggest fool in the Galaxy not to notice the fact his flesh is literally rotting. And judging on what little I know and the progression of the rotting, he’s been probably fatally infected for about six to ten hours.”

“Right, he’s infected.” He activated his comm bead and turned away from the body. “This is Lieutenant Sym, we have contact with infected. One down. Repeat. One down. It’s Paradus. Bring a flamethrower to my position at once. Inform Captain Farlorn.”

With a loud creaking of sinew, the crackling of burnt flesh, the groaning of stiff joints, the body raised his head and stared up at Ludd with it’s remaining blood-red eye. Foam, mixed with thick black blood dribbled from its mouth.

“Help me.” It let out in a long wheeze before it leaped right at them.

 

[Asaraa Vaashe]

Location: Atrisia
Tagging: Caedyn Arenais

“I…I guess maybe.”

In the panic that had stolen over her, the facts, the reality of the situation had been swept away by a rising tide of guilt and fear. The pin-haired Jedi had been so determined to blame herself, to castigate herself for their situation that she had lost all sight of the bigger picture. She could still feel those icy fingers of fear reaching for her, only held at bay by the feeling of Caedyn’s arms wrapped around her slight frame.

Slight hands came up, clasping at his shirt, the girl’s head bowing as she rested her forehead against his chest, eyes closed as she drew in a deep breath, and then another. He was so solid, like a rock despite all the chaos thrown against them, weathering it without moving, even the news of their impending deaths seemed not to make a dent in Caedyn’s calm demeanour. For a moment Asaraa lost herself in that feeling, the warm strength flowing out of him before she let one hand slip away from his chest to scrub at her eyes, rubbing the tears away.

“There’s a camp somewhere in the market district, the Grand Marshall’s set it up while she’s trying to secure the city. A kind of base of operations. I don’t know about the locals, they seem to be turtling up to try to wait this out.”

A deep breath, eyes slowly flicking open as the girl lifted her head, crystal-blue eyes searching out Caedyn’s face.

“It’s…think of the flu, of the most infectious disease you know of, then ramp it up to 11. It doesn’t look like there’s any way to hold it off, any procedure to effectively avoid infection and then you end up like…well like them.”

Stepping away, Asaraa slipped one hand into Caedyn’s, twining her fingers around his as she pulled him to the edge of the landing platform, one hand gesturing at the city where swarms of the undead could be seen ambling down the streets, seeking out new victims to join their ranks.

It was a scene out of a nightmare, out of the most horrific holovid that the twisted mind of a director could dream up. Those had been mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, someone’s loved ones, their lives, their identities stolen away on one horrific moment. Now they were puppets, dancing on someone else’s strings...something else's strings.

“I’m not sure anywhere in the city is exactly safe…but if you want the safest place, well…I mean I do need a new dress for dinner, and the least you could do is take me shopping Mr Arenais.”

A weak smile, a small stab at humour as the young Jedi Knight let her eyes travel down to stare at the city. She could feel it, almost see the dark miasma that seemed to cloud the streets, like a heavy fog. Could feel the roiling waves of the dark that seemed to stretch out, to beckon her in. ‘Come dance with us, be one with us. You never need to be lonely, be afraid again. Come join the dance.’

To say she wasn’t tempted would be a lie. An end to the doubt, the constant questioning that plagued her mind. It was a siren song to the girl…but it was wrong. It felt wrong. Like a miasma of oil on the surface of a lake, it might look colourful and inviting, but you only had to dip a finger in to feel the wrongness, the slickness coating your hand.

That was the same feeling she had from the city, her senses recoiling away from the miasma she could sense spreading out, filling every street, every nook and cranny. The Jedi felt her hand tighten on Caedyn’s, stepping in closer to him, desperate for that feeling of steadiness that he had offered her mere moments ago.

“It feels wrong. The whole city feels wrong.”

A jedi should be down there, helping the people, unafraid of what the future might bring, of the sickness and what it meant for them. Only Asaraa wasn’t a good Jedi, she could think of nothing other than the virus, the future it might be ending. She didn’t want to take a step further, to travel down into the city, but she already knew what Caedyn’s would be thinking.

“Shall we go shopping?”

Just 4 words. A simple question…the hardest question in the world for her to ask.

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

{ Location: Kan Lwai Fong }
{ Equipment: Robes + scrubs, meditation amulet, holo matrix,
diagnostic gauntlet / headset, medkit, blaster pistol }
{ Status: Thankful for her morning jogs right about now }
{ Objective: SOF - Save Our Fish }
{ Tag: Kyyrk Luna Terrik John Locke Damsy Callat + open }
{ Post: 03 )​

~ † ~​

"Fair enough. I do have a medical suite aboard the Dawn. Feel free to loot my stocks and use the space as needed."

Hard to believe or not, the nurse hadn't been trying to make a stalwart point to quarantine or not to quarantine. Advising before she ventured into the plagued maw of the capital was her only goal and, her message heard by both Minister and Grand Marshal, she had seen to her first objective. She didn't offer any argument, but heard theirs, and felt pity for them both. Coordination in time of disaster at any scale was always taxing on the individuals undertaking it - that much she knew first-hand - but doing so for a pandemic across many ministries and forces must have been a waking nightmare.

With a bow of her head as John's hologram disappeared, Prennis turned to Tsian Denira and her troop. She was almost shocked: did they know she was coming, why was she slotted of import warranting such an escort? Had the situation not been so incredibly dire, she might have voiced her concerns and certainly thought more on them. Instead, she asked the vicelord, unaware of her title, "What's your name, soldi—?"

The question was interrupted by a comm ringing out to Luna: "Command— It's Damsy. Alpha and Omega are scaling Xiaolang as we speak... I'm...no longer an asset. But the misson'll get done, Luna, I swear. Tiria's got it..."

Xiao...Xiaolang Palace? Prenn remembered what, but not where, that was. Certainly, though, it was not in the financial district her escort was set to bring her to. The way this Damsy was speaking, she must have been a commando, and she must have gotten infected. In all probability, a bite, as it seemed she jumped to the conclusion rather quickly. Prenn glanced down at the chronometer widget on her gauntlet's holo display.

A few past ten in the morning.

If her own supposition was true, she had three minutes, tops, to reach the palace before Damsy began to turn. And she had to sprint what she didn't know had been about a thirty minute march.

Slowly, Prennis backed out of the tent into the morning sun. She had seen no one notice her, as everyone at Command was intently focused on their sister-in-arm's message. As it continued on, the tension in the tent mounted and distraught filled the somehow-eerily-fresh air, but no one dare to make any sort of sound. Maybe they just didn't want to interrupt, but maybe they didn't want to seem weak to each other either. Regardless, Damsy was clearly someone of great respect and or affection within the Defense Force.

Once turned on her heel and moving towards the city, Prenn activated Mountbatten. What was she looking at? :: There are approximately two point eight two kilometers between your location and the Xiaolang river. I am sorry to inform miss that the probability you reach it before the incubation time elapses is near zero. :: Prennis sighed. She had stopped short of the edge of the quarantine and now cast one last look back at the paramount command tent, then back at the path ahead. She'd have to beat her personal best running time.

And she would, she vowed to herself, sprinting out into the Red Light District.

:: Please don't die. I quite like miss. ::

Maybe, Mountbatten. Maybe.

 

[Eira Talon]

Location: Xiam Chi city, near the crashed ship
Tags: Gerwald Lechner Srina Talon Darth Empyrean

Srina had tried to prepare her moment like this, but despite their sessions and her sisters clear warnings, Eira had never envisioned chaos quite on this scale. She tried to keep a level head atop the wolf that lept and bound them through the streets-- over the shambling infected and past the injured dying enmasse around them.

The deeper they moved, the thicker the streets got. She hadn't taken the gun with her, it had been too big for her to carry easily. She regretted it now. Her hands were useless at this distance and speed. It fell solely on Niquis to guide them safely to the crashed ship that housed her sister.

Oh god, don't be dead.

It's smoke billowed down the street from them, the vehicle entering her vision among the turmoil. NIquis's rampant pace was forced to a halt, the mass of undead impassable here. Eira's let out an involuntary scream, the sudden jolt tossing her from his back. She skidded across the pavement, towards the feet of something dripping.

She turned her head up-- her vision flashed, something striking her across the face.

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Crash Landed In Xam'Chi - [Engaged w/ Slaad ]
Allies: CIS & Friends
Tags: Darth Empyrean │ John Locke | Eira Talon | Gerwald Lechner
Enemies: Xenro | Darth Immortuos | Slaad

______________________________
​

The oscillating screams were growing ever louder, causing her ears to ring, while a sensation lingered of there being something she couldn’t quite hear. Had the creature called them? Or were they just gravitating toward fresh meat? She couldn’t quite tell. Cold eyes narrowed when she realized that the infected wouldn’t take the bait she offered. No, instead, she witnessed that same disturbing ability to employ critical thinking. He didn’t simply lunge ahead blindly with mammoth feet that shook the ground.

He thought. He fought—Thus far, well played.

The debris she carried forcefully toward the abomination would not be stopped, it seemed. The diseased monstrosity cut down the largest pieces of permacrete and asphalt with a light-saber, while smaller objects, or metal ones, quickly made their way through him. If her stomach was less ironclad, she might have gotten physically ill at the sight of maggots falling free from his injuries.

Even still, when the scent of decomposition hit, she could feel a watery sensation in her mouth.

He moved. Her right foot left the ground without thinking, one step after the other, taking her back toward Maliphant, but there was a blinding light that stunted her progress. The electricity that had danced so elegantly about her form moments prior flew at her with a new vengeance. At first, the Dread Queen seemed untouchable. She wove through the arcing light with grace so pure, so innate, that it would make any dancer weep. At least—Until she got a little too close.

Time seemed to slow, stretch, while her movement fell short. Malevolent energy that was carried on the tendrils of an electrical discharge caused her breath to catch. It started slowly. Raw elemental power brushed against her arm, searing through her clothing. Srina wasn’t wearing anything that could protect her from such an onslaught. Her chest rose and fell haltingly, her spine stiffened, and for a moment she felt frozen. Electricity coursed through her veins from that initial connection.

Each micro-second later held another point of contact. Another arc that ran against her, without mercy, while she swore that the trails of electricity were so long, they could have wrapped the world twice. She couldn’t see the abomination any longer. She couldn’t see Maliphant. The dark light seemed to swallow her whole and she was no longer certain where it stopped and she began. There was the coppery smell of blood. Fresh.

Something unlocked within her chest. In the Force, she could feel a cry. A shrill scream.

Eira.

Her teeth ground together and in that same moment, she could also see the variety of undead that clamored toward her toward them. Toward her sibling. The source of fear that came off of the remaining Atrisian populace rolled forward in billows, like vapor, slipping down a block of frozen air. The young woman could feel something even colder. Colder, than the frost on Hoth. It passed through her and she welcomed the cooling wave that stilled what was left of her nerve endings.

Eira was here. She couldn’t fail her—Couldn’t lose her.

Srina pulled on the Force, gathered what could not be seen, and wrapped herself protectively within it. Her off-hand extended and she pulled the remaining electricity toward her. It screamed ahead. Blindly. At first, it burned the flesh of her palm, shriveled cells, blackened skin but eventually she began to absorb the excess energy. It swirled brightly—Until it suddenly wasn’t there at all. She settled just in time to hear the directive from Maliphant. The pilots. Burnished golden orbs were filled with a piercing shine, a luminescence, that sang of nothingness. Emptiness.

There was only the will. The will to fight, to move on, and to win. She breathed while she stepped backward. Out of reach. Out of range. Could Maliphants shields hold against the infected? She didn’t have time to think. She could only react. He would need to hold his ground and the Atrisian people they had been transporting would just have to be smart. “Don’t lose.”, her deadpan tone carried to Maliphant whilst she reached out to pull the panel down that she had previously secured.

Her hand was burned. Badly, but still functional. She ached. Every part of her felt like she’d been beaten to a bloody pulp and then microwaved for good measure.

Srina went back the way they’d come whilst pulling the zombie pilots back toward her. Away from the screaming Atrisians. Back inside the downed ship she spun away from the first pilot. He lunged at her twice, the first of which she sidestepped, while using a buffet of kinetic power to knock him over. She pressed an attack, cutting twice at the head of the first pilot. Even freshly dead, with cauterized wounds, the Atrisians started howling louder.

As if what they had witnessed thus far wasn’t already bone-chilling enough.

The second pilot seemed a touch smarter and actually went for the combat knife on his belt. It retreated, drawing her forward, and she brought her lightsaber up to block the attempted slashes. Srina reversed her stance, parried a lunge to her left, then riposted. A wide sweep of a blade came through the empty space between herself and the pilot. She pivoted and extended her left leg in a kick that dropped the infected. Not from pain—Just from force. A downward swing of her crimson blade left him decapitated.

No more pilots.

That didn’t do anything to stop the horde of infected that was fast on the approach.

White hair billowed in the wind, singed, and falling loose of copious braids. What could they do? It didn’t matter if they defeated the massive deadite. Not when there were more, hundreds, on the way. She breathed in the Force and held it whirling wildly inside her heart. A feeling, a cross between pain, and infinite understanding occurred whilst she held on to that feeling. She crushed down her own pain, her own weakness, and used it as a focal point. Rather than feeling out of control, she felt complete.

As if she could feel the spin of the galaxy all around her. Everything was clear as crystal.

‘Master…’, she called, mentally, reaching for Darth Metus . The pair had a Force Bond that traveled through system after system. She could feel him from one side of the galaxy to the other. Srina beseeched him in a language none would ever know. Had she the raw power? Yes. The restraint? Perhaps not. Even still—It was the only thing she could think of. ‘…Lend me what I require…’

The response was immediate.

Her golden eyes burned while a lattice-work of darkness spread beneath hallowed orbs. Her already pronounced cheekbones seemed to become all the sharper. The Vicelord had walked her down a specific path. He always told her that the Darkside didn’t bring her to the center of the universe. It made her the center. She drew power into her innermost being, all the while, keeping an eye on her surroundings. For the storm that was brewing within? Her expression showed nothing. With Force touched eyes she could see death swallowing Atrisia like an event horizon. Beneath her entirely ordinary surface was absolute, perfect nothingness.

It was a faultless place to have a hollow. To store what was essential.

Nothing glowed. No light. There would be nothing more than the sounds of the shrieking dead on the approach while a soft chant left her lips. It echoed, without thought, or care, to whoever heard her. There was no other choice in avoiding the horde. No other way. Just this. Only, this.

“Koani woi Nu dzuontai j'us. Nu doryumi j'us. Nu ana wos j'us- Diâ ri tsakwa tuti datar.”

Ground below I command you. I call you. I walk upon you - And the time is now.

“Kots dzis ki.”

Break for me.

“Kots dzis ki!”
“Kots dzis ki!”
“Kots dzis ki!”
“Kots dzis ki!”

BREAK FOR ME ​

At first, nothing happened at all. Then—Everything began to shake. Violently. A sharp crack that boomed like thunder echoed above everything else while a wide fissure began to grow around the downed ship and surrounding area. Invisible eyes followed the strong and weak sections of the plate they stood on. She didn’t know exactly what it was that she saw in the ground below, but, she could feel her way. Srina knew what to break. Knew what to agitate to get the desired effect. The ground around them sunk faster and faster and it would soon become evident that a miniature quake had swept through. It left a healthy gap between them and the infected horde.

Was that enough?

Molten golden eyes narrowed and her thoughts flew to her sister. Eira, was out there. Perhaps with Gerwald, but as far as she knew, they were still alone. The youngest Talon would feel the ground move, rumble, and a sinkhole would open up slowly just behind the creature that attacked her. Whether it was a strong gust of wind, or something else, she would see the zombie fall backward into a pit that had no end. Blackness, for eternity.

‘…Don’t fall…’

Srina let go of the borrowed power, returning it, and immediately felt her body sag. Her bones felt heavier. Maliphant. His name pulled her. His essence pulled her. How was he fairing against something so petrifying? Srina hoped it was better than she felt. When she lifted her feet, even that, felt a little sluggish. She came back out of the wreckage of the ship—Using the metal wall for guidance.

She could do this. They, could do this.

It was just one deadite. Just one abomination. Right?

. . . Right?

Spoiler: Summary

1.) Worry about Maliphant.
2.) Took Some Damage and Mega-Ouchies from the Redirected Force Lightning. It was a scorcher.
3.) Ganked the Two Pilot Zombies. Off, with ze heads.
4.) Made a moat around the trash castle. Wide enough, deep enough, that the horde should have a hard time crossing without Slaad levels of intellect. Or the Force.
5.) Worry about Eira and Gerwald.
6.) Worry about Maliphant. Kinda aggro w/him I dunno why xD - Oh - I know. DON'T DIE.
7.) Have a hissy fit and open a sinkhole near to Eira to save her from the zomboid that wants a spoonful of brains.
8.) Making way back towards fight proper, though, a little messed up. Who wouldn't be - Jeeze.

 

[Jrurki Liz]

Location: Xam'Chi base camp / Tag: Luna Terrik
Objective: Protect the quarantine​

Don't. Karkin'. Panic.

Jrurki had picked up shop the moment she heard the shrill cry of a medical filter under the hood of a speeder. Something immediately smelled wrong, but that could have just been the morale-draining fog that had settled over base camp even before the Dauntless got to land. "Don't panic," the mechanic repeated aloud as she came to the source of the alarm, a quarantine tent near the camp's outskirts. On one side, she found the tech blinking red. Overheated? Dead? Damaged? She stooped to set her toolbox on a sealed crate and picked out a hydrospanner. In no time, she had the cover popped off and, like it, her heart dropped to the ground.

Warning!! 0% function.

Not good. At all. Jrurki had no idea how long she had before the Virus compromised the survivors and medics within - if she even had any.

Evidently she did not. Someone else had recognized the danger. Someone else had made the call, condemning her efforts in one swift moment. "We need to neutralize." A commando's arm suddenly came between her and her work and he attempted to push her away.

"I can neutralize!" She knew what he meant, but it wasn't what she meant. They didn't have to shoot them; she could still fix this. Save them. With equal vigor, Jrurki fought against him to get at the dead battery, but he easily subdued her with an arm around her waist. "Gimme a minute!" He sidestepped before yanking her away from the tent. Away she went, stumbling backward. There, cradled to her comrade's chest, she watched his fire team approach the tent's clear plastic door. Hiss-clicks resonated the air as the trio rose their carbines. "No!!"

When victims became unwitting combatants, they were doing them a favor indeed.

Point blank range. No survivors. "Hey, buddy, we're okay." He hugged harder, for comfort not prohibition. "We're okay."

 

[Gianna Aegis]

Location: Atrisia [Pridwen-Class Cruiser]
Wearing: This
Affiliation: CIS
With: John Locke
Status: Asleep [Astral Projecting to Darth Assimilus ]​

---

The mind of this corrupted being was a peculiar thing.

Gianna was, for all intents and purposes, skimming the psyche of an undead Gen’dai. Soft jade eyes watched him curiously, though, she remained seemingly devoid of fear. The scent that rolled through the air was noxious—But was she afraid? No. A Jedi Knight did not hold fear. At least, that was what the company line often was. The flame-haired woman worked with a sense of compassion, duty, and a willingness to take on the suffering of others if it meant keeping them safe.

In her sleep, she would whisper the name of the Forbidden City. John Locke , so close, would hear the broken fragments of her lucid dream. “Jar’Kai…”, she murmured, unintentionally, hiding in the side of the Minister of Science. She would be mortified to wake up, not for the first time, and realize that they had somehow found themselves in a fairly compromising position.

At the same time…His concern and the level of care he offered her was touching beyond words. Unfortunately—Her heart was not her own to give. It belonged to the Force, as she did, and nothing could change that. It was her oath to serve, protect, and guide. To play peacekeeper regardless of the odds or the outcome. She loved this man. John Locke.

It was a tragedy written among stars.

Her affections were meaningless. She could never be with him. And for that—She buried such love deep inside where it might grow evergreen and remain untainted. “...Jar’Kai. Please I…We need…”

“It’s Forbidden.”

The old Atrisian City which was Forbidden. That, was what she required.

In the span of a breath, she picked up right where she left off. Watching the creature that some, even she, may have called a monster. Gianna would remain luminous among the dead. A transparent being, a window, that gave a glimpse into a sunlit meadow of the Force. The astral projection emitted a sense of peace and tranquility. He questioned her. This beast, this creature, that had been seduced by a fervent whisper most divine. “Madness. Only, madness.”, she murmured delicately.

The nearer they stood they more he would see. The little flowers that had been hand-sewn into her robes along the edges. The way her hair moved in a breeze that didn’t exist, waving, like living flame. The way her eyes seemed to shine, softly, whilst filled with unshed tears. They fell, eventually, rolling down freckled cheeks, when a woman walked by both attempting to hold her entrails—And guide another group of the dead.

Gianna didn’t bother to wipe them away.

She just stared.

The Knight wasn’t actually here. It was just her shadow—But, it still felt real. Every bit of it.

“I can accept peace. I can accept looking for it. I can accept struggling to find it…”, she trailed off gently, trying to form words, without letting the sight of decaying flesh get under her skin. The slender Knight was not afraid—But there was only so much one could take. She wanted to close her eyes. She couldn’t. “But this…This is not peace. This is not the way.”

Jade eyes flickered. Existence, and freedom? Was that even truly living?

“I…I fear that escape is not what Blackwing truly provides.”

What did she see? Power. She saw a conquering force rolling in to overthrow the existing civilization. She saw creatures pulling it apart, bit by bit, then assimilating the leftovers. He demanded to know where Gianna saw the madness she had spoken of and her gaze could only soften while she looked upon him. There lay infinite understanding. He did not know. Afterall, how could he? How could he know that which had been taken, or, had never been given? “It is…Everywhere—”

The sounds of war stole her words, stole her breath, whilst ordinance fired. The sound of a Walker was unmistakable. Tanks? She had learned those on Tanaab.

Gianna approached the leader of the Rancidus Order, before eventually, breaching his space. As much as she could while being entirely incorporeal. “Can you not hear it?”

The low hum that hid beneath all of her words. Beneath the sound of hundreds, thousands of feet, and even beyond the artillery fire. Atrisia had been full of life prior to this, and now, there existed a sense of agony in the purest form. “Can you not feel it?”

Terror. Fear. Loss. Sadness. Anger. Misery. Pain.
Terror. Fear. Loss. Sadness. Anger. Misery. Pain.
Terror. Fear. Loss. Sadness. Anger. Misery. Pain.
Terror. Fear. Loss. Sadness. Anger. Misery. Pain.
Terror. Fear. Loss. Sadness. Anger. Misery. Pain. ​

It was a cacophony of emotion that blended together, melding, with the hunger and the vacillating screams. It had become one voice for Gianna. Just one. It was an echo in the Force. A representation of all lives that had been lost. There were so many that would never see the next sunrise. Dead, or alive. “What is it that you seek? Truly?”

It was a question that may have seemed out of place. The much smaller female could only sigh softly, carefully, while she tried to organize her thoughts. She didn’t know this man, or, what had once been a man. She did know what her duty was. To love. To have compassion, because behind the fear, behind the terror, he was just like everyone else. Dreams, hopes, fears. Even if he may have forgotten them in his conquest of this world. “I do know one thing…”

She breathed. Before, diving in. He didn’t have much of a choice but to listen but it was always polite to ask. “Peace. Existence, or Freedom? None of these things can be kept by force. You can only obtain them through understanding…Otherwise, the cycle will repeat. Eventually, someone will come, and take your family. They will take all that you hold dear.”

Because he had stolen from them.​

It would not be the people on the ground that rose up. It would be carriers, cruisers, and star destroyers dropping from the sky. It would be defoliators. It would be the Confederate Droid Army. It would be every weapon that had never seen the light of day—But could destroy from a nice, safe, distance.

Her voice came softly next. Touched with empathy. Concern.

“If this is the path you choose to follow…Everything you have worked for will be lost.”

 

[Tsian Denira]

EQUIPMENT: Armor, Primary Weapon, Secondary Weapon
OBJECTIVE: Safeguard VIP Prennis Keeoli
LOCATION: Venturing into the Unknown
TAGS: @Luna Terrik | Prennis Keeoli | Kyyrk
​

Tsian heard it. They all had. A single glance to her squad and hushed nods confirmed it. Callat was in trouble. One of the Dauntless's best and brightest. And from the sound of her voice, she didn't plan on coming back. Tsian turned back, about to open her mouth, but paused. The Doc wasn't there. Tsian looked around, bringing her rifle up as she prepared to move. A flap of the tent was moving, as if someone had just exited. Two quick steps confirmed this as Tisan saw Keeoli sprinting into the city. "Nephilim on me, we're moving!"

She didn't pause to confirm they were behind her. Given the direction Keeoli was running, she was probably engaged in a fool's errand.

Tsian's favorite kind.

"Lock and load, weapons free."

Tsian could hear the sounds of the Nephilim Titans thundering behind her, easily catching up with her, and some even surpassing her. Rifles began to sound in the streets as creatures of the virus began to emerge. Tsian didn't worry about them. She just worried about the doc, and keeping her in her sights. She felt the horror beginning to overtake her, as she looked around at the now-dead city. But she pressed on. The doc had come to help. And it was now her goal to make sure the doc had what she needed in order to finish this. "Boss, your friend took off. She's trying to make it to Callat. Requesting fire support if able."

 

[Kyyrk]

EQUIPMENT: In Signature
LOCATION: Xam'Chi Streets
TAGS: John Locke | Tsian Denira | Prennis Keeoli​

Voph had hit the ground swinging, as it were. The creatures were beginning to swarm, and Voph was in the thick of unexplored territory. Made worse by the myriad distress calls he was receiving. Most notably, one from Damsy Callat at the Palace. Voph knew it was only a matter of time until the Confederacy had to abandon the cause, unless a cure was found. And it was that idea that let Voph allow Prenn's entrance to this mess. Knowing that she would be able to find a way to fix this before it spiraled further out of control. Voph paused for respite as Tsian's voice barked in his ear. Of course Prenn was moving to the Palace.

Voph sighed, and began running towards the palace himself, gritting his teeth against the bombardment the Force subjected him to. The Virus was overwhelming, and dulling his senses, but he pushed on. A feeling of dread was building within him. The Force, in spite of the sickness spreading throughout it, was warning him. If he intervened, someone would die. Part of him longed to listen to it. To stay where he was. But he couldn't risk Prenn. Perhaps it would, in a sick twist of fate, be her undoing. But he couldn't rest if she died, and he had chosen not to act.

So on he pressed, hoping beyond hope he could make it in time...

​

​

 

[Kirk Tektus]

Location: Waru Operations Base
Wearing: Officer Uniform
Tagging: Credius Nargath​

Kirk knew there was a high chance that they wouldn't be able to save all the infected refugees by the time he found a cure or a suppressant. Hesitantly, Kirk sighed before informing the viceroy of the center's countermeasures. "We have a security system in place to neutralize the victims should we lose the opportunity to save them. We lock down the bloc and burn the whole building to disinfect it. It's in no way merciful but will ensure we kill the virus in its tracks."

Kirk only put that in for procedure but when faced with the order to actually do it. He didn't know if he was able to go through with it. Throughout his whole military career, killing civilians was the last thing he thought he would ever do. But he should've known that before he signed up. He had only seen what it was like for someone to turn into an infected form from a distance and maybe killing them was already merciful enough. He was lucky he only had droids vet them and he didn't see their faces. As they headed back to the examination room, the droids had placed the bodies on the metal slabs. The staff from Kirk's medical team had entered to see what the commotion was about and what the viceroy was doing.

"Commander we're still working on the cure. Can you tell the viceroy to put off the project?" With his research team being medical professionals and not used to military doctrine and chain of command, they prioritized their work over anything else, even if he was a viceroy. But Kirk did his best to shoo them away. "Wait in the barracks, I've tripped the silent alarm and we're abandoning the quarantine."

"Wait but we still have research in there Commander, you can't let him do this."

"I'll do my best to try and extract it but it would be best that you left. Now." Kirk was now asserting his authority as a military officer and doing what was necessary, to let the viceroy do what he needed. "You don't want to interrupt the viceroy. Leave quarantine and burn your clothes. There'll be some fatigues for you."

"You know this whole time we thought we'd actually save some lives today. But I guess thats worth nothing anymore."

"The viceroy is already doing that. I won't debate this any further. Leave now and stay in the barracks. That's an order."

Reluctantly, the medical team walked away from the examination room and he was hoping they were doing what he said. Kirk retuned to the viceroy as he was performing his incisions on the body.