Rebellion &nbsp; Ekibyō no tengoku: Blackwing Virus | Rebellion of Atrisia

Darth Empyrean |

Luna Terrik
Enemies: ZOMBIES!!!

Eira complied with his request for her to get on his back. Whether the idea had been hers, or if she had somehow known it was what the wolf wanted, Gerwald did not care. With the Echani finding a way to hold on, Gerwald pressed past the massive creature which was coming out of the ground, leaving the others behind to handle it, and pressed onward in the direction of where Exarch Talon was located. Gerwald could feel the strong desire from Eira, her desperate need to find her sister. It radiated through the force without any hindrance at all. The one thought dominated her Eira's mind. She had to find her sister.

Gerwald could not deny her. Paws barely touched ground with every lunge the long body of the canine made as he ran. He was fast, agile, much different than any mount Eira would have been used to. The lupine managed to move in ways a vehicle or other creature would not have been able to, but that did not help him avoid the wall of undead and the other obstacle in their way. He was forced to stop, and with that abrupt motion Eira went flying through the air landing in front of one of the undead.

He cursed in his head as the thing began to attack her. For a moment Gerwald was unsure if she was still conscious. There was part of him which hoped she was not so he could shift and deal with the hoard coming their way.

She stirred.

Frak.

Gerwald had a decision to make.

It was then the ground began to shake, and the Zombie attacking Eira was just gone. Gerwald could sense it. The power he felt was raw, something he had not felt before. His sensitive hearing could hear the words coming from

Srina Talon , they were ancient, old, dripping in the power the dark side of the force offered its servants. It was invigorating.

This was Gerwald's chance. While Eira was still dealing with the aftermath of the attack, the wolf made a run for what remained of the ship. There would be basic obsidian armor and a lightsaber there. Gerwald was a man in a matter of seconds, untying the bow which Eira had forced him to wear. Retrieving the armor and lightsaber, Gerwald made his way for the hoard that neared the opening in the ground. Armorclad feet carried him into the thick of it, his arms extended as he released a torrent of force energy that pushed any in his path into the deep crevice below.

Gerwald had failed Scherezade.

Gerwald had failed Alwine.

Gerwald had failed Naedira.

Gerwald would not fail Eira.

The lupine no longer cared if this blew his cover or not. Srina had made him promise to protect her sister, and if that meant exposing himself as a shifter then he would. Gerwald knew he could likely transform back before Eira became any wiser.

The lightsaber ignited and a near howl escaped his mouth as the giant of a man began to cut down any of the undead which did not fall into the pit. Heads flew from shoulders as Gerwald attacked with a speed a precision a man of his size ought not be able to accomplish. His nature as a lupine made him much more agile than one would imagine him to be. There was one overwhelming and driving thought to his mind as he got lost in what he was doing.

Redemption.

Doing his job now, no matter the cost, would make up for all those he had failed. If he get infected, if this was the day the force willed him to die, Gerwald would redeem his past failings.

Gerwald would keep his promise.

Luna Terrik · Mar 13, 2020

C O N T A I N

Objective: Quarantine Xam'chi
Time: 1015
Equipment: VAARS Rifle, Tactical Recon Handguns (2), Personal Armor, CryoBan Grenade (4), Thermal Detonator (2)
Ally tags: |

Tiria Reinhart |

Damsy Callat | Tobias Wrynn |

Maeve Archeron |

Anakwor Farlorn |

Jasmille Kavos |

Jrurki Liz |

Kurenai Yumi |

Kaden Farr |

Alessandra Creed |

John Locke |

Subject 73 Red |

Kyyrk |

Tsian Denira | Eira Talon |

Gerwald Lechner |

Darth Empyrean |
Enemy tags: | @Xam’chi enemies |

Slaad |

Darth Assimilus |
Post: #5

Reports should’ve been coming in by now. From a lot of places, really. Farlorn and his rangers had reported in, but the full scope of their situation had been cut off with that comm. She hadn’t heard much from the Alpha or Omega teams, nor from Theta or Delta. Little comms here and there, but the full scope of a lot of situations were still unknown to Luna, which made handling this infection all the harder. Especially when she had a doctor practically breathing down her neck at this point, telling her that this whole thing was fruitless. In the back of her mind, she agreed, at least to a point. But saving as many of the civilians within this city before firebombing it was a preferable option than leaving hundreds, if not thousands, to die. Not only die, though, but become a catalyst that could join the other city on this planet in becoming a wave of death that could never be controlled.

Perhaps they were already too far gone, and that was the only logical route that things were progressing towards. Getting the scouting updates from all the different districts of the city would give Luna a much better idea of how far this thing had spread. And just as she was about to start sending out another comm unit, she was thankful to start getting a few answers to start to fill in the puzzle. The puzzle she was running out of time to figure out.

Red’s was first, and the information was about as hopeful as she could have asked for. Lots of survivors, very minimal casualties. Of course, she had expected one or two when they were sent it. There was no such thing as a move in the great game without a risk. But over twenty rescued civvies was worth it, at least in her mind. “Well done, sergeant.” She started, making a mark on the list of locations in the city that needed to be scouted. “Get the civilians back to base camp. Your man that might be infected, remove him from the rest of the group, but get him back here. Put some cuffs on him and put him under armed supervision.”

All Luna could hope for was that the camp had been completed to the point that the civilians could get proper medical care. The last thing that was needed was for this camp to get overwhelmed. Still, barely a quarter of a hundred people should have no issue getting at least checked out. A job well done by one of the pieces on the board. The grand marshal’s mood was beginning to change. Well, it was, until that fateful comm came in.

"I'm...no longer an asset. But the misson'll get done, Luna, I swear. Tiria's got it." A clenched fist was the extent of her emotion shown in this moment as the comm was played throughout the command tent. All other work had gone silent as the rest of it began to come through, and Luna could do nothing to reprimand them for doing so. "It's been an absolute honor serving with you and the Dauntless. I'm just sorry I gotta go like this.” Luna’s breath caught for a moment, and in a moment of weakness, her fist slammed into the holotable with a solid thud. Perhaps the glass had cracked slightly. She wouldn’t have known. The only thing she could hear was the thudding of blood pumping in her ears. When the doctor and her guard made their way out silently, Luna barely even noticed.

Never get attached to pieces. There’s going to be losses in battle. Detach yourself.

That’s what Major Yonrin taught her, anyway. And in a way, he was right. Luna was in a nasty, dirty business that had people dying around them much more often than was necessary. It would’ve been better for her to not care about any of the people underneath her, that way her focus could just be on what to do next. But that..that wasn’t the way the human mind worked in most cases. She didn’t even believe Yonrin truly thought that was the way to act. Damsy was special. There was no acting like she wasn’t. And Luna would be damned if she left this planet without that woman’s body.

“Corporal Berrezz,” her voice cracked through the comm, attempting to sound as cold and steadfast as possible. “Captain Callat is down, and possibly KIA. I’m giving you permission to split from the squad, giving command to Captain Reinhart, and get her body back here.” Perhaps this was a selfish action. But there was still two squads taking on Xiaolong. They would be plenty. If Luna had to firebomb this city into ashes, at least she wouldn’t be doing it with her friend’s, her comrad’s body still roaming the streets.

But at this point, the issue was out of her hands. It’d be reckless, even more so than it already was to be splitting the squad slightly, to go out there herself. No, she needed to keep playing the game, get to the end. Memorials could be worried about after that. But after what the doctor had said to her and the scouting reports coming in from the city, alongside one of her most trusted comrads, Luna was very close to pressing the big, red, end it all button.

Some good news at this point would be very welcome.

POV: Q’aria Tvenes
|

Slaad | Eira Talon |

Gerwald Lechner |

Darth Empyrean |

Darth Assimilus |

Oh, so that was just karking great.

They were cutting through this horde with ease, would have very easily reached the other squad quickly. Which, for some reason, consisted of a white haired woman and a wolf creature. If that had been the weirdest, or most jarring part of this situation, Q’aria’s mood might’ve been a bit better at this point. But no. The moment that it looked like they were going to break through, a massive creature clawed it’s way from the ground and sent the zabrak and her squad flying. Not to mention the zombies that were left, one landing way too close to comfort. It swiftly received a bolt through the brain, but those lumbering beings were definitely put on the backburner for the moment.

“KILL. THAT. THING.” Whatever it was, it was big and lumbering, and had just sent one of her men into a wall with a thunderous crack of it’s fist before he knew what was even coming. There was no point in even checking his vitals at that point. It’d be quite the miracle for him to be alive, even in these padded suits. The rest of the commandos, including their commander, were quick to scatter, finding cover in various alleyways or behind crates. After Q’aria’s command registered in their minds, bolts began flying toward the creature, being soaked up by it’s hide.

There was a moment in time where she was considering pulling a retreat maneuver. Better to go around this thing and get to the crashed craft than having to deal with it and then moving out. Precious time was being lost while her squad was practically wasting ammo trying to kill whatever this thing was. Just as she was about to issue the order, something quite interesting happened. The monster died. Perhaps that was a less than exciting way to put it. But how else was one expected to put into words something exploding from the inside out? Writing a report on this whole mess was going to be an utter headache.

But, thankfully, the biggest headache was seemingly down for the count, and the sight of the squad ahead of them once again moving out prompted Q’aria to encourage Theta to follow quickly. As the sounds of the commandos boots slapping through the blood on the streets began to echo off the buildings, she took the moment to comm into command while they pushed forward. “This is Theta actual. We’re close to linking up with the rag-tag squad. We’ll be at the VIP’s location soon enough. Update coming once we’re there.” The sounds of a battle raged ahead, one that did not include the addition of any sort of zombie forces. Something else was angry, thirsty for blood.

Just another annoying addition to the post combat report in Q’aria’s mind.

Caedyn Arenais · Mar 13, 2020

Affiliation:

Asaraa Vaashe & The Confederacy of Independent Systems.
Objective: Keep Asaraa safe and help the local populace.
Location: Xhi'cam, Capital of Atrisia.
Equipment: Jedi Armor | Lightsaber.

“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".

Asaraa guided Caedyn towards the edge of the platform, putting him face to face with the reality of the situation...-Though even with the results of the virus right there in front of him, Caedyn had to blink several times to make sure he wasn't just imagining the horrific scene playing out down below.

It was a scene from a holovid, the dead were on their feet and staggering over one another as they moved closer towards the more populated districts of the Capital. Some of them had been wounded, whether by blaster fire or melee combat, there was evidence of wounds all over them and flesh seemed to be hanging off some of them. Many of the infected's flesh seemed to be sagged, as though it would fall away if not for their skeletal forms. And the smell...A stench of decay that matched their appearance...

"What the hell..." Caedyn spoke under his breath in disbelief; He could sense their presence in the Force what-so-ever, it had left them just as it did when one's spirit passes on into the Force at the end of their physical journey. Yet Asaraa was right, there was another feeling in the air around them, a sense of malice and corruption perverting the environment around them. He'd never felt or seen anything like this before.

"Which way's the Market District?" Caedyn asked while watching the horde below them, hoping that they weren't heading in the direction that he and Asaraa would likely follow; "This Grand Marshal, they'd be able to give us a bit more of a heads up on the situation right?" He asked, wondering too if they'd be open to informing someone like Caedyn of what was going on, given that he was an outsider to the Confederacy and Atrisia in general.

Subject 73 Red · Mar 13, 2020

Objective: Move to the base camp. Deposit the survivors and wounded. Await further orders
Tags:

Ben Craig

Red nodded to the General's response and orders. "Yes ma'am. Moving to camp." He replied. He motioned one of the medics to come to him. "Put cuffs on the wounded, keep them under armed watch. They try anything, incapacitate them." Red told the medic. Then, after a short pause, he said, "Kill them if there is no other way to stop them." Red said. He didn't like that order, but it would be necessary if there was no other option. The medic nodded. "Yes sir." The medic replied, then walked away back where the wounded were.

They continued to fly towards the base camp. Red watched the scopes, watching the ground far below. There were some abandoned buildings, and possible movement, but they went by too fast for him to confirm anything.

They approached the base camp. Red could see the multiple tents and other temporary structures. The gunship approached it. The pilot set the gunship down next to the base camp. Red stood up as the doors opened. "Get the wounded to the medical tents." Red ordered. The medics nodded and brought the two wounded off towards a medical tent. The other soldiers also exited the gunship, heading off in respective directions. Red then exited the gunship too and looked around. He noticed that the camp was bustling with activity.

"General, we've arrived at the camp." Red reported.

John Locke · Mar 13, 2020

S A V E

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

Marsha Blackburn

Location: Atrisia
Wearing: This
With:

Gianna Aegis
Tagging: Caedyn Arenais |

Kurenai Yumi |

WelshPsych |

Vytal Noctura |

Kas Varad | Darth Miseria |

Xobos Yakieer | Kirk Tektus |

Kyyrk |

Credius Nargath | BX-72967 |

Junko Ike |

Alessandra Creed | Kirk Tektus |

Marlon Sularen |

Ben Craig |

Kaden Farr |

Anakwor Farlorn |

Subject 73 Red |

Ben Craig |

Kyyrk |

Kiff Brayde | Tobias Wrynn
Song written to: Pheonix

It was a small thing, a simple offer of a handful of supplies, the remnants of a doctor’s ship. But that offer, that simple off-hand comment that slipped from the lips of @Prennis Keeli, it was everything. A small spark of light in the continuous battle against he encroaching darkness and pain that John saw everywhere. That was the downside of the communications network that the man had created for himself now, it allowed him to be all present…he saw everything. Every small petty act, every instance of vandalism, of fear getting the better of people.

Through the eyes of the droids, of the cameras and drones that extended over the planet John could see the old lady left knocked down by the fleeing youths, not one of them even stopped, much less turned to see if she was ok. Another camera, a little girl bawling for her mother, clutching the raggedy arm of her teddy to her chest, of the rest of the bear, of her mother, there was no sight. It wasn’t like these were isolated incidents either. Every city, every block there was a story to tell. A tale of woe and heartbreak to move even the stoniest of hearts.

A child’s brown eyes filled with tears, barely able to breathe for crying…and no-one would stop to help her.

All this power, all this potential at his fingertips, an entire world arrayed out before him in ones and zeros. With a thought John could reach out to any electronic on the planets, manipulate any piece of data, he could drain money from a bank account, spread it to millions of others, could have every computer display the same image, could provide the soldiers with a view of every zombie encroaching on their position. It was power, the heady overwhelming kind of power that could only go bad, that lead to megalomaniacs and entirely at his fingertips. Yet the exigencies of the situation commanded he couldn’t just let his whims his stray thoughts play out, not while so many relied on him, needed him.

So a girl sobbed, an old woman cried out in shock, in pain. A million tragedies played out on a stage that was a single world, observed by just one man, the sole audience. A hot tear rolled down John’s cheek as he watched. He couldn’t, wouldn’t turn away, silent witness to the fall of a world.

Yet, across the planet the confederates continued to fight, regardless of the odds, regardless of what the future held, they clung on against whatever the planet threw at them. A virus, they’d do their best to cure it, giant creatures, the bigger they were the harder they fell. In the back of his mind he charted the progress of a ship, landing to meet

Credius Nargath , a desperate fight for survival, a wolf streaking across an empty city. A stubborn refusal to give up, a continual desire to throw themselves into the flame, into the coming fire no matter what the odds they might be faced with.

This was the confederacy John had come to love, this was the collection of people who rose, to any situation they rose and would drag those around them, the rest of the galaxy with them.

Oh, and how they rose.

A shifting at his side drew John’s attention away from the world of data he’d been inhabiting, dark eyes flicking open to stare at the red-haired Jedi burrowing herself into his side. She was still asleep, still caught in whatever whim of the force had caught her up, swept her away. A hand rose up, reaching out, gently brush the hair away from her forehead for a moment as John’s arms tightened around her.

Worry painted the man’s features, this was something he didn’t know, a battlefield he wasn’t equipped to fight on. There wasn’t a thing that he could do other than be here, just hold her, hope that somehow she knew he was here, that she could draw some measure of comfort from his presence.

It wasn’t what he’d expected, would happen to him. Meeting this woman, this Jedi who put the entire galaxy ahead of herself, it hadn’t been something John had seen in his future. There was something about her that seemed to light up the room whenever she entered, that seemed to brighten his day whenever saw her. John hadn’t expected to meet her, hadn’t expected to fall in love with the woman who had somehow become so important to him in what seemed like a flash.

The cyborg didn’t even need to close his eyes to remember the void that had seemed to tear at him, that emptiness that had filled his life, without her. That was a half-life which he never wanted to return to, a desperate sadness that had driven him away from social interactions, away from anyone else. A solitary existence of numbers and work until something had drawn him back to her, back to the Spritegate Shore.

In a way nothing had changed, there was still a wall between them, still, a distance that he couldn’t breach didn’t know how to but…a life with Gia in it was infinitely better than once without her. If all he could do was be here, to provide what support he could then he would be. The man could see her erecting those walls, creating that separation, for both of their sakes he guessed If this was the price he paid for a universe with light in it, a life with colour then it was a price he’d pay willingly. He’d choose a life with love, every time, the life with moments like this.

The woman’s quiet whisper was all it took, the cruiser’s engines flaring to life, the air bursting around them in a sonic boom as it seemed to leap forward like an arrow released form a bow. Jar’Kai. Ground-zero, the epicentre of the infection, the fight for the planet. Of course she’d need to go there, right into the middle of this all. It was who she was, as natural to the woman as breathing. She’d go where people needed her, into the very heart of darkness if needed, wheverever the force took her. She cared about people too greatly to do otherwise. As much as he feared for her, worried about her John wouldn’t have tried to change her. It was that empathy, that deep well of caring about everyone else, that was so much a part of her, o the light that seemed to surround her. You couldn’t love the woman without accepting that part of her.

And John loved her.

More than he’d ever thought possible, enough that a life without her had been a living death. Had been a state which he never wanted to return to. She was safe now, for now at least, and John knew that Gia was able to take care of herself, had access to a power the likes of which few could match. But…everyone down there on the planet was someone’s Gianna.

Somewhere on the planet there was a mother going mad with worry for her daughter, a husband staring ath the door worried about his wife. A million pairs of eyes or more, a million hearts that couldn’t stop beating like a drum, a million brains that wouldn’t sit still. A planet caught on the edge of terror, of that most desperate of fears, of loosing whatever was most important to them in life, of being caught in that same half-life John so feared.

And he couldn’t help them, he sat at the centre of a web, of droids spread all across the planet, of cameras and communications and he couldn’t…he…could.

A million droids, more…spread all across the planet. All those pairs of eyes, all those pairs of hands…all over the city…all over the world. A deep breathe, almost a sigh as John reached out a hand, touching it to Gia’s cheek, bowing his head forward again till they were almost touching.

“It’s the Jedi way to sacrifice, to put everyone else before themselves right? I guess that’s something I could learn from.”

Dark eyes closed, the man breathing a little faster, his hair falling forward in a cascade over his face as he reached for the network he’d constructed. Until now John had always sat at the centre of the network, a spider observing his kingdom, making the most minute of changes as he directed the flows of data. But this was different, he wanted more, wanted everything. Byte after byte of data washed over him, surrounding him in a swarm of information, a tsunami that threatened to constantly wash over him, only held in place by willpower and the man’s mind.

It started small, a single droid here and there, then two and three seemed to shift, their eyes glowing turquoise as they fell out of formation. The clank of metal feet as they turned down side streets. The think shadow falling over a young girl crying in the street, clutching the arm of her teddy bear as tears ran down her face. The thud of metal knees hit the ground as the B1 knelt next to her, metallic fingers reaching out to brush away the tears. The voice that echoed from it’s modulator wasn’t the normal metallic voice assigned to a B1, the sound of the Minister’s voice could be heard on the street, the girl instinctively reeling away from the cold touch of metal before the soft voice stopped her.

“Hey there, I’m John, you’re Airi right? Airi Liu right, your mum’s looking for you this way. She was telling me all about your science fair project, you’re making a potato clock right? Why don’t you tell me about that? I didn’t even know that was possible. How’s it work?”

The droid rose to its feet, holding out one hand to the girl who hesitantly reached out, wrapping a tiny hand around the droid’s metal one, her voice hoarse and cracked from the crying as she began explaining the project. A block down and the tears were a distant memory as she educated her new ‘friend’ about how she could make energy from a potato and would charge him up when they got home, unaware of the consciousness staring out of the droid’s photoreceptor, from the cameras they passed, until they reached the girl’s apartment, until a mother lost in the desperate fear she’d never see her daughter again burst from a door, wrapping the babbling 5-year-old in her arms, sobbing into her shoulder as the precocious girl tried introducing her mother to her new companion and struggling to ask her an important question.

“Mama, do we have any potatoes?”

The family unaware that just a street over two droids had arrived at the side of an old lady, slumped on the ground, unable to rise where the crowd of teens who’d knocked her over had dislocated her hip stared in terror at the metallic soldiers who’d arrived.

“Excuse me ma’am, might we be of assistance?”

The exclamation as one of the droids lifted her in its arms, cradling her like a child as the other reached for her bags, containing the medicine her husband needed. The droids could walk fast and no crowd of teens would dare try to knock them down. A husband would laugh in surprise, in delight as the droids settled his wife in an over-stuffed armchair. Offering them a cup of tea…unsure of what else to do as they trapped back out into the street, as he bustled around his wife, making sure she was comfortable.

A million droids or more spread across the planet, working alone, or in pairs offering a helping hand, or a small measure of care, of comfort as the world went insane. Death stalked the streets, the dead rose and were met by blaster fire and grenade. Yet in the midst of all that horror, the stories would spread, stories of those confederacy droids with the glowing turquoise eyes who appeared out on no-where to help before vanishing to find the next person who needed them. A child returned to her mother, a pack of teens who’d got caught in the bad part of town led back to safety, a farmer whose family was rescued from their burning house by those tramping metal soldiers.

A million stories or more, the droids of the confederacy appearing exactly where they needed to be to save lives, to help before they were onto their next target. A million droids or more, all bound to the will of a man slumped over in his seat, face drawn with strain, consciousness stretched oh so far, spread out over the entire planet.

So fragile, so thin, the will of the line, the will of the man who wouldn’t break, who wouldn’t allow himself to crack. Fighting every second against the tidal wave of information and commands that threatened to overwhelm him. Every second he fought, another citizen saved, another spark of light burning against the encroaching darkness. Small sparks of love and hope, each so small so tiny in front of the darkness that threatened the planet. But together…together they could be a fire that could push back the dark.

In the fires of war, in the depths of despair and chaos you found who you really were, found the truth of your soul. Witness then the will of the minister, more monster than man, witness there, in the depths of hell, of the fires on the planet a rebirth…a rediscovery. Witness, dear reader, the rise of a phoenix, reborn, wrapping the world in wings of fire and light. Soaring sight unseen over the planet, leaving a trail of light, of hope in its wake.

A single voice…a million all calling out in relief, in hope reborn.

Fly phoenix, fly.

Tobias Wrynn · Mar 13, 2020

The LAAT made another pass, and another. His pilot pulled high to avoid rising smoke and the unknown factors that hid within it. Wrynn was carefully watching and analyzing the movements of the strange, infected beings beneath them as they sailed just outside of harm's way. "Real damn shame we can't drop in there and lay down some firepower," the pilot remarked.

"No good," Wrynn shook his head. "Too many unknowns. High risk of infection. God knows what the sickness is, and if it'd just turn us into part of the problem." He steadied his precision rifle and marked a target. With his legs hung out the edge of the craft and dangling free over Xam'Chi, he exhaled slowly and his body started to still.

"We'll do what we can from up here, and I'll provide covering fire. They look to be already dead, so try to keep the LAAT steady. They've got to be headshots."

"You got it, Corporal." The pilot slowed their movement a fraction as Wrynn depressed the trigger. A round exploded forth, and less than a second later, one of the infected creatures' head exploded. Gore littered the ground and festered, and Tobias watched as black gray and turgid meat frothed forth. Whatever this was, it was trying to spread. Actively.

"Disgusting," he muttered. There was no point in telling the Confederates what they most likely already knew for themselves. Instead, he moved his sights along the streets and waited for something worthwhile to report.

The Monster · Mar 13, 2020

Sergei looked up from his not quite shaking hands and studied the area around him, the crazy flying armored yahoo had been knocked out of the sky by a wayward strike, and saw that in his crazed focus that he hadn't actually been paying attention to the rest of them at all. He walked over to the Mandalorian, helping him up and speaking calmly.

"That was a nice maneuver, thank you. If you ever need a steady job, or possibly any help, don't hesitate to ask," he spoke as he continued studying the surrounding area, and saw the body of his remaining operative. He was laying on the ground, blood pooling around him as he vainly held onto his neck.

Gods above no.

Sergei ran over to him immediately, locking his rifle into his sling as he called into his comms.

"Connor? Connor! Connor stay with me!"

He got over to the dying man and saw that while the operative had shown himself well, the bodies of the dead around him proof enough that he'd given it his all, one man wasn't enough to make survive without people holding his direct left and right. And while the squad had given him plenty of cover while they had been focusing on the lesser infected, the arrival of the bigger monster had drawn their attention away from them. And Connor had been swarmed covering them from the remaining that continued to attack. And while he had held, it would cost him his life. The man was babbling as he fought to retain consciousness.

"Jack,"

"Don't talk lad you need to focus on living,"

"Jack they didn't get on the bird,"

What. What in the blazes?! He'd called the bloody extraction to get the civilians put out of harm's way! Nononono NO!

"Jack,"

"What is it lad?"

"Don't let me turn, I watched Charles and Dende, don't let me become one of those things,"

"I can't do that,"

"Please Jack, my one last request is to die with a little dignity. A soldier's death,"

Sergei had to stifle his own response. He knew there was no saving the man. And they didn't have time to restrain him to try and get him help. His pause was brief, but he then reached down and while appearing rough, actually took great care in picking the soldier up. He brought him to a kneeling position, unhooked his secondary attachment point on his sling for his rifle and stood behind him. The words spoken between them over comms would be unheard for any outside of the two of them. They were words of reverence, of death with honor. When Sergei leveled his rifle at the back of his friend's head, the man looked to sky as if accepting his fate.

And then Sergei pulled the trigger once.

The report from his weapon would be loud enough for everyone else to clearly hear. Sergei thanked his armor's creator that the visor was polarized, because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the tears. But he had a mission to complete and civilians to save. He couldn't sacrifice the mission. He looked at his new reinforcements and spoke as calmly as he could as his own discipline was starting to break down from all he'd seen today.

"I'm Sergei of The Dire Wolves. So I'm assuming the ship sent you, what do you have with you and what's your current mission?"

Eira Talon · Mar 13, 2020

Eira vision swam, vertigo overtaking her senses.

Her world was disjointed, sounds not matching sensations. The world rumbled, how could a world quake? Images moved in threes around her, the edges hazy. Blood dripped down her face, her temple slashed open, spilling into her eyes. She tried to get up, but her limbs were in the wrong places. Her thoughts were clear but her body was wrong.

A concussion, she recognized slowly.

It was no excuse to stay down, her life was in emanate danger.

Her sister floated in the horizon, the ground was gone, the man she had been curse to kiss was here. Eira stumbled onto her back, her mind screaming out to her body to stop.

Stay conscious.

Don’t do this.

Damsy Callat · Mar 13, 2020

S A V E

Form: Hybrid { turning } | Post: 04 | Tags: Prennis Keeoli Kyyrk Tsian Denira Tiria Reinhart Luna Terrik

Allegiance: Confederacy of Independent Systems | Location: Along Xiaolang canal |

Equipment: Hydroarmor / electrotrident / dartgun / rifle w. bayonet / medkit / grenades |

Shzzk!

"Fethin'—!" Out of her hand and into the river, water slowly but surely tinging green as Gessethya Helfyld's spilled contaminated flowed into the canal from the Seoulpa source, flew the dartgun. The silver body glint in the sunlight, but also with the electricity still dancing over it. Damsy spun around on her heel, ironically ready to defend herself.

Squish seemed shocked too, for she floated a few feet away from her handler, pulling back from shock range, elecroprobe still extended.

"What are you doing?!" she exclaimed. "You're supposed to be helping Maleki!"

- Whoo, whoooo... - The Binary registered with sadness, meaning something akin to I couldn't let you...

"You have to," she replied with a wild fear masquerading as anger. "I have—" The words tumbling from her mouth became a unified sound as she felt the heat rise again - differently, burning her from the inside. She went down desperately fighting for her ground: to one knee and then the other. Then she pitched forward, as if to brace on her hands, but jerked as violently back, hydroarmor beginning to morph as she did. First came long spinal fin, then talons. Under plastoid, her skin thickened and blossomed into scales; unvisored eyes glossed over in anticipation of low-light, which, the near opposite present, she had to protect with a bent elbow. Even through the appendage, she wailed high and loud at the sky.

Metamorphosis married with the Virus was new pain Damsy had never once experienced in a lifetime of it. She might have always been a predator, but she had never felt this rabid. This hungry, like she could eat two whole aiwha wing to wing. Kill a dozen saberjowls. More. She had all of Atrisia now and, like this, between human and squal forms, she wouldn't be condemned to prowling the cold, dark seas again.

Good. Finally.

She involuntarily licked her bottom lip. Half of her tried to push herself up while the other fought to keep herself decked. If she stood now, who knew what she'd do. She spread herself on the cobble and, reaching up one hand to her seeker, gave one last, competent plead:

"Go! I don't want to follow you!"

Berrezz was inside before any of his squadmates had processed their orders. Soon enough, though, they were following him at a sweeping pace. "Basement floor clear," he shouted on to Reinhart. He turned, pointed to the two nearest commandos, as well as the team's medic near the end of the spread. "Kaal, Fengris, Eisahn. I want a safe zone on this level. Everyone else, on me for...advance." Berrezz tripped over his last word, trampling some of Luna's from his private comm in the process.

He was glad he had glued his sunbonnet to his head, as it were, per Damsy's requisite, because he contorted his face throughout the message's elapse. Maybe no one saw his shock - KIA? get her body? - but the squad perceived his momentary hesitation, as well as their subsequent plunge into silence. "On the Cap," he corrected smoothly with a motion to Reinhart. "General's got a special op for me. Don't wait up."

Clearing his throat as he made his way back outside and around the surround to the squads' landing. He took a knee, from which vantage he watched the troubling scene below. As Damsy wailed once more, whosoever now wondered where their interim commander was forgot they had upon stepping out of the quiet elevators and into the governmental lobby.

Shamira Karuto · Mar 13, 2020

.

C O N T A I N

Equipment: Purple Cloak, Hood, and Boots | Saddle bag full of special berries
Tag: |

Scàth Mhaolàin |

Taiia Locke | Felurian Malvern | Tireya Syvare |

Aisha |

Alluria Ivalice |

John Locke |

Vytal Noctura | Mandragora | Knights Obsidian |
Enemy tag:

Darth Assimilus

Ok, perhaps believing things were easy was a premature assumption from the young witch. Just when it was easy to blast a few zombies here and there with fire, keep them off the group long enough for them to pass without danger, things began to turn very, very quickly. Zombies began to pop their way out of the ground, some even managing to grab at the witch’s ankles. Of course, those that did manage to touch her earned a quick fireball to somewhere on their body painful enough to cause them to let go. Still managed to scare the living soul out of Shamira, but wasn’t enough to inflict any sort of actual physical harm on her. With the amount of zombies that were beginning to pop up, the best she could hope for was that her luck would continue you.

Thankfully enough, it wasn’t just her cutting her way through the zombie resistance. The other young witch, Taiia, seemed to be holding herself well enough together. Every so often, the redhead’s eyes would look over to check on her, though it was becoming quickly apparent that it was unnecessary. The birds that were flying ahead, whom she seemed to talk to every so often, were a possible connection for her power. That was something to be determined, and asked about. Her mother had spoken about things called “familiars,” at one point during her lifetime. Perhaps those birds represented that for Taiia.

The other, really important reason that Shamira felt less danger than might be necessary in this situation, was the Nightmother. The spirts she had conjured, or what could only be described as such, were flying around and tearing the zombies to pieces. It didn’t even look as though the pale woman was straining herself doing so. When Vytal had taken Shamira aside, early in her time with the Mandrogora, and shown her the spirit realm, all the spirits she had encountered had seemed to be completely out of her control. What the Nightmother was doing, unleashing this many spirits with some level of control over their actions, only spoke to her unmeasurable power.

She couldn’t even have guess their next move, or why in the world the Nightmother would want her hand. Shamira was in no place to disagree, however, and with the combined power of the trio, she watched as green flame enveloped her sight, until a portal to a place she couldn’t recognize laid in front of them. This must be some sort of power connected to the nether, and if Vytal wanted the other two witches’ help, then it must be something very unstable in terms of connection. If that was the case, it made sense that it took three witches to keep it stable long enough for them to push through.

And push through they did. Well, shamira did, at least. Perhaps she was the first to jump in, or maybe it just felt that way. Regardless, pushing through the portal left her with an empty feeling in her stomach for just a moment, then a solid feeling of coming back to earth as her boots hit the staircase. Ahead of them was a massive, beautifully decorated building. A building that was really only fit for one, specific thing.

“The palace….”

They had made it.

Tiria Reinhart · Mar 13, 2020

S A V E

Damsy Callat | Allies in Xam'Chi
Enemy:

Slaad |

Xenro | Darth Immortuos | Infected in Xam'Chi

Tiria stood in the center of the elevator with her carbine cradled in both hands.

Ding.

Plink, plink, plink. The smoke billowed out of several grenades tossed into the lobby. Visors set for infrared, the commandos poured out of the elevator, and quickly assumed position in the elevator hall, before they let loose on the infected holding that position.

Earlier they'd taken scans of the lobby from the sealed stairwells. The building had been put on lockdown with an independent backup electrical system and environmental support in the basement. The lobby had been taken with ease, but bought enough time to isolate the rest of the building. Tiria expected there would be quite a few survivors with such a safeguard. Enough the infected hadn't managed to claim the security center that held the lockdown in place since they were still relegated to the lobby.

The blaster fire was a defeaning roar as they tore into the enemy number. Corrupted horrors of twisted mass had begun to pound against the walls to breach the defenses only to find some new, squishy targets. Tiria motioned for the heavy caliber weapons to bear on those beasts. Perhaps the infected were smart and had the intelligence of a hive mind behind it; but they didn't train to breach and secure a scene. The Dauntless polished their skills daily. They were made for this. A virus only sought to propagate and would take advantage of whatever lay at hand. A parasite on the galaxy, which the Dauntless would happily exterminate in the tens or hundreds at a time.

Concussive force of explosive ordinance at play caused the smoke to swirl violently before their eyes, and to roll over their armored forms.

Once the lobby fell silent, Reinhart directed three teams to set up a defensive line in the lobby with the big guns. "The rest with me. Scot," the Captain turned and strode back into one of the elevators, "take us up." One of the commandos was still in the basement having accessed the security system enough to unlock the other floors. More than the infected managed, thankfully.

One floor at a time the commandos swept room to room for the living or dead. The former was escorted back to cleared sections, while the latter were give solid taps to make sure they stayed down. "Respect for the dead has been suspended for the duration of this mission. I don't care how certain you are they're dead -- center mass and headshots for each one," Reinhart announced over the Op channel.

The Security Center of the building was as secure as Tiria hoped. She stretched out a hand to shake a thankful agent; her other hand discretely loitered in position for a one fluid motion strike if the virus got cunning and somehow learned to hide in its hosts. "Captain Reinhart of the Confederacy's Dauntless Corps. You've done well to hold this position so long. We have supplies to keep you all healthy while we escort you back to base."

"Escort? What about a cure or a vaccine or something to fight this thing?"

Tiria's voice remain level, not perturbed by the inquiry, "Scientists are working on that. You can get more information about that at base. They don't share those details with us; it would just serve as a distraction. You know how dangerous this thing is."

Obviously not the answer they wanted, but it was the only one they were getting. Acceptance set in quickly. "The high ranking official are in the Qin Conference Hall. Most of the armed personnel we had on staff here have been keeping that floor secure. Nice work taking out the filth in the lobby, by the way."

"Xang, Jaylah," Tiria called out, "secure the area around the Qin Conference Hall. Make sure the security in that area know I'm coming." Once their acknowledge came in, the Captain's visor shifted back to Agent Wong. "Got any transportation?"

Everyone's suspicious at first, but desperation and an apparent lack of any attempt to bite or convert people caused a swift change in the metaphorical wind. The holed up survivors left to stew in their fear, doubt, and abject terror of being lost in a city consumed by darkness were eager to accept help once it presented itself. Tiria promised to get them from the building back to base where they could receive any cure or vaccine the scientists had cooked up. What choice did they have? The government buildings was secure, but it couldn't weather a siege the likes of which an parasitical virus could lay against them.

What they did have, however, were a few armored transports. Good for bunkers of guards set to defend the immediate area in the event of... hostilities. Mythos had inspired many things in recent history; be preparing for an attack was one of them.

The Captain ordered the commandos to escort the survivors back to the vehicles and take up positions on or around them. She strode among their number and ensured adequate coverage for each. Word came back from Cruz about path through the city back around to the Red Light District just in time for the Dauntless to hit the road.

A few of the commandos that couldn't catch a ride would assemble, then build a zip line to drop back across the river. Not quite back to where they'd begun, but close enough the two branches would meet up and they could complete their return together.

The infected hadn't sought to give up despite set backs. They threw themselves before the Dauntless futilely. Others panicked. Others trembled. They persevered, and whats more they emerged victorious.

"Dauntless Command, Alpha Actual, Alpha and Omega on return. Objectives secured."

Prennis Keeoli · Mar 14, 2020

{ Location: Xiaolang canal, Xam'Chi }
{ Equipment: Robes + scrubs, meditation amulet, holo matrix,
diagnostic gauntlet / headset, medkit, blaster pistol }
{ Status: Hoping she's not infected }
{ Objective: SOF - Save Our Fish }
{ Tag:

Kyyrk

Tsian Denira

Damsy Callat

John Locke + open }
{ Post: 04 )

~ † ~

- Whroop! -

:: Miss, fast incoming. ::

"Goodness!" Throwing herself off balance, Prenn barely avoided collision with the seeker droid hurdling down the last leg of the avenue. She stumbled a few strides, stayed upright, and sprinted on. The same floating robot appeared in her peripherals before overtaking her both in speed and sound as Squish warbled along.

- Bee ahhrooo! -

:: Her owner is in trouble, miss, :: Mountbatten generally translated before he paused to probe the ID10's basic properties. :: Registration is to one Damsy Callat. :: With a name like that, Prenn knew she had to be on the right track. If somehow she wasn't, well, then change of plan. The Palace was now in sight, it chiseled parliament statue spires creeping steadily up the horizon. Slowly, the view panned down to the contaminated river, and then to the pathogenic herd patrolling the waterway. Horror ground the nurse to a halt about a hundred meters away. She bat back the tailcoat of her jacket with her idle hand not holding the suitcase and brandished her pistol. A dip in confidence and adrenaline plagued her. Was she too late? Squish stayed afloat nearby. Against her better judgement, Prennis was about to ask which one the Dauntless captain was, but then again having hope against all hope was the making of a miracle doctor. And sometimes just that was what Prennis aspired to be.

Just as well too; she spot commando armor similar in aesthetic but not in precise design nor color to Luna's armor set absorb into the swarm. There!

And then, another set, this one jogging towards her and the Nephilim that had caught up. "Viceroy!" the man addressed, a greeting in everything but tone. Rushed. Tense. There was plenty of reason to be. "Berrezz, Omega squad. What's your angle?"

Prennis spoke instead to answer, "I want to help Callat."

"Well, that makes at least three of us," - him, her, and the general. Berrezz cast a glance over at the infected. "She's in that crowd." Without further explanation, as if he fully recognized how crazy that sounded, he held out his forearm and activated a three-dimensional hologram of the woman wandering the crowd. Prenn squinted and leaned forward slightly, studying the video. Even though it was only playing in shades of blue, she could tell. There was no gangrene on her face, just scales and blood.

"I...I don't think the Virus is affecting her." Though something else was, obvious by the way she sway on her feet, they could - would - figure that out after they retrieved her. "Statistically speaking, she could be immune." Prenn looked down at her suitcase. That meant Damsy might be the key to a cure. "How easily can we retrieve her?" The question was equally posed to Tsian and Berrezz.

At least he picked up on the nurse's insinuation of medical, not just personal, importance. But if Damsy was still somehow entirely alive in there, it would still be the latter too. "Not," he replied, voice honest but not unwilling. The pack was full. Between them all, firepower in terms of amount might not be an issue, but in terms of crossfire it could be.

Anakwor Farlorn · Mar 14, 2020

S A V E
Captain Anakwor Farlorn
Caria First-and-Only "Forlorn" Ranger Regiment
Tags:

Damsy Callat

Tiria Reinhart
Location: Xam'Chi
Mission: Investigate

The infected lunged at Ludd, knocking him down onto the floor. Before the trooper could even react, It’s gibbering, foaming mouth opened wider than was possible and bit right down at his neck. Ludd screamed, and then screamed again. His frantic wails soared and echoed around the marketplace.

Jantine reacted before the others did, still shocked at the whole affair, and, with a loud cry, slammed into the thing, throwing it off poor Ludd. The two fell together, limbs twisting in a whirlwind of madness. The infected man was an animal, absolutely feral as his biting mouth fought to find a grasp and breach the uniform of Jantine.

“Shoot him already!” Jantine yelled as he grasped the biting head with both his hands, fighting the insane spams. He looked the infected man right in his remaining eye which refused to focus on anything.

“Can’t! You’re in the way!” Syna cried as he pulled out his pistol.

“Damn it!” The corpsman threw a sideways punch with his right fist that knocked it right off him. He took control and forced it against the wall of a stall. Kicking at its knees to force it down, at the same time trying to control the biting head. Syna lifted his pistol, trying to find a clear shot but the two bodies seemed to be merging into one mass.

Swearing, Jantine drew his silver bayonet from its red sheath, grabbed the infected around the left elbow to yank its arm up against the side of its head, and stabbed the blade right up to the hilt in the infected’s armpit.

It didn’t die. It just kept going. More and more it spasmed madly. What type of virus was this? What type of damn infection was this?

Jantine ripped the bayonet out, twisting the grip to break the suction and free the blade. He rammed it twice into the neck, black blood spewed all over the front of his uniform. He brought it out again, this time aiming for the head. The gibbering thing lunged forward throwing Jantine to the ground. He brought his blade up to defend himself against the attack he anticipated.

Two blaster shots slammed it sideways. Another tight pair broke it open along the rib cage, spewing thick black liquid over the wall. A fifth shot to the head dropped the thing like it had been struck in the side of the head with a truck.

Jantine quickly got on his feet as Syna walked over and emptied his entire clip into the head of the infected, utterly reducing it to nothing more than fragments of bone and piles of scattered flesh. It’s inside were utterly black and yellow. Flies were already congregating around the body.

Ludd moaned loudly and Jantine crossed over, kneeling over the trooper.

“I’m sorry, Ludd.” Syna said, reloading his pistol and looking down. “Really, really, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

“Wait,” Jantine lifted up his hand.

“You know the orders Captain Farlorn gave. I’m doing him great mercy. Orders.”

“Let’s make sure first… but cover me.” Jantine leaned down and began checking the bite area. Syna knelt down kept his pistol aimed right at Ludd’s head. He saw through the lens of the gas hood the boy’s eyes frantically staring at the barrel of the gun.

After what seemed like a truly unbearable eternity. Jantine sighed loudly. “He’s clear. The bite didn’t breach the suit. Damn near came to, though.”

Everyone let out the deep breath they had been holding in. Syna holstered his pistol and gave out his hand to the lying trooper. “Sorry about that, Ludd. Forgive your Lieutenant for being overly cautious.”

“I shall sir,” He took the hand and Syna lifted him up.

Rixar spoke up.“Where did he come from?”

Everyone looked up to him.

“I mean it. We had the whole perimeter of the market locked down before we swept this place. He couldn’t just have appeared from nowhere. Look, his clothes are wet. No, not with blood. He’s been out in the rain.”

“Rixar’s right.” Syna said. “Where did he come from?”

“Think I’ve found it, sir. Not too old.” Arnob pointed to a smear on the floor about five meters away. It was of that same black substance that had erupted out of the infected with Syna had killed it. Arnob could tell what direction is led, most of the Rangers had been trained in basic tracking by the pathfinders. “Seems to lead around the corner.”

“Rixar, stay and guard the body until we get a flamer up. I don’t want any more surprises. When the others arrive, tell them where we went. Ludd, take a breather here. The rest of you, on me.”

The trail led through half a dozen turns. Occasional smears on the wall and on the floor. Arnob led the way, stopping occasionally to examine the trail. He had never been the one to really care about the tracking courses, his only concern being his blaster and being pointed in the vague direction the enemy was. However, the trooper soaked up information all around him like a sponge, even if he wasn’t really paying attention. He knew what to look for. The slight age in the liquid, the tone of it, how it felt to the touch.

Once or twice they lost it and had to spread out before they found it again. The squad was moving through an open concourse of the marketplace that looked like a wetmarket when they heard through their hoods a great suction of air before a loud roar that permeated the entire marketplace. In the distance, an orange tinge lit up the tin ceiling.

“Looks like we got Nekson on the case,” Rixar muttered. They held their position and reported it to the others. Three minutes later, Nekson followed by six other masked troopers appeared close behind. Nekson was a big burly man who had a certain affinity with the flames, an understanding of the way it ran and danced and leaped around. According to Major Fennstrum, his skill with fire came from his years in the fire watch. Contradicting that was Master of Pathfinder Hark who contested that Nekson was an ex-convict who had a five-year stint in the slammer.

“Any news?” Syna asked Nekson.

“The Captain and the Major are on the way right now. Bringing another Company with them. Orders are to find where the hell that civvie came from. His words.”

“We’ve been doing that.”

“Trail ends here!” Arnob called out. The others quickly ran over to him. He had stopped over an open circular hole in the middle of the concourse. Right next to the hole was a round flat metal plate. A manhole cover. The smear ended abruptly over the lip. Syna peered over and saw only a solid black inky darkness.

He squatted down. He swore something was moving down there.

“Came from here, sir.” Arnob said. “Has to be. Residue around the lip is old.”

“That’s the sewers.” Said Nekson.

“No, chit.” Syna muttered. “Someone get me a light flare or something.”

Rixar stripped one off his chest plate and handed it to his Lieutenant. Syna ignited it with a twist of his hand. It fizzled, red hot, as he dropped it right into the darkness. It didn’t hit the ground, only with a wet thud. Like flesh.

Something gleamed back. Nearly a hundred heads suddenly looked up. Black glossed over or bloodshot eyes stared up at the activity. Bodies packed like fish in tin. Right there in the filth. Syna finally realized what had happened to the populace of the local slums. They had all fled underground, right into the sewers the moment they had heard of this mysterious terror. All of them had been convinced to flee into the tightly cramped tunnels, enticed by the lure of safety. Panic and rumors went a long way. They could have been safe down there but all it took was one.

One.

Just one.

One infected person was all that was needed to ruin the whole damn thing. Once they had sealed themselves under, there was nowhere else to run. They could have done nothing but cry in the stuffy darkness as the infection slowly crept to them. Too packed to run. Too packed to fight. Too packed to even really breathe.

What a way to die, Syna thought. What a horrible, horrible way to die.

One by one, they all let out a single groan. Unified, they turned into a terrible roar that shook the Rangers diaphragm. Even, the endless pounding of the rain was drowned out for a moment. When they moved, they moved like a sea of bodies, bumping into each other and even attacking the others next to them in their feral fury. Claws dug into the mortar walls as they tried to find a way up towards the only living things they knew of.

Syna's team had woken every single one of them up.

“Neskon!” Syna yelled at the top of his lungs, snapping out of his horror. “The flamer! The flamer, damn it.”

A hand appeared over the hole and gripped the side. Jantine was on it. Pulling out his still bloody knife, he cut it off at the wrist. Three of the troopers quickly rushed over and began firing into the hole as Neskon activated the burner torch at the front of the flamethrower.

“Back! Back!” Neskon ran over to the hole, pointed the flamethrower in the darkness, seeing the hundred gleaming eyes staring right back at him, and pulled the trigger. Darkness became light. It was almost too bright to look at, and the writhing black shapes inside it almost too terrible to bear. The mortar and confined space turned into a furnace of unimaginable heat. The flames didn’t roar. A whining keening sound erupted from the sewers, louder than anything he had ever heard.

The infected screamed as they burned.

They screamed so loudly.

After what seemed like an eternity, Neskon turned off his flamer. Still burning napalm dribbled from the nozzle of the flamer onto the ground. He turned around. The front of his uniform was so completely covered in black soot, it looked as if he had been deliberately painted. The whites of his eyes behind the lens of his hoods contrasted heavily.

“It’s done. Tank’s half empty.” Nekson said softly. He had seen lots of things and tended to be a forgetting person, but what was in that whole was certainly something he was going to remember. For a long, long time.

Syna activated his comms. “Captain Farlorn. We’ve found the locations of the civilians. I repeat. We’ve found their location. It’s not pretty, sir.”

A lightning strike crackled the sky. Static flared into the comms, mixing his words. They always did that in bad weather. The Rangers often nicknamed it the “fizzy.” After the “fizzling” effect that it often made through the connection. Also a well-known name for a certain recreative substance popular within the Ranger-

Another echoed across the tight marketplace. Then another. Then another. Followed by dozens more rapid strikes. It wasn’t lightning. They all knew that.

“Shit, that’s blaster fire!” Arnob yelled.

The comms started going insane.

"They're coming out of the ground." Someone screamed over the comms.

Kirk Tektus · Mar 14, 2020

Location: Waru Operations Base, Quarantine Center
Wearing: Officer Uniform
Tagging:

Credius Nargath

As Kirk chased away the research team begrudgingly and walked back to the viceroy as he was working away at the corpse and Kirk took this time to process everything he had done up until this point. That he was infected since the time he got onto the planet or at least til the Blackwing virus was prevalent in Atrisia. He blankly stared at the corpse which Credius was working on, had no idea what he was doing. He then started on what to do with the refugees, the people he was supposed to protect. The security system in place was to burn the whole refugee bloc, it was merciless but it would clear the infection. Being a military officer he had to had seen this coming and he just had to accept it. With the viceroy he'd have no problem covering this up and they would never speak of this incident again. His thoughts were interrupted once a blaster shot rang from Credius as he shot one of his guards. Kirk slightly jumped as the viceroy started speaking to him about the importance of rank.

"Your life is obviously more valuable sir. In fact you're the one here who knows what he's doing by coming up with a suppressant."

That being said, the viceroy continued with his work and extracted blood from the corpse and Kirk observed this time as the viceroy got his vials of blood and centrifuging them while he started to talk to Kirk about the Blackwing virus. The tone in his voice as he spoke of the virus, emphasizing on the situation that it had costed up until now. That it required methods only the viceroy would willingly approve of where the ends justify the means and this is scenario, Kirk would be inclined to agree especially when Credius ensured Kirk's safety by never bringing it up. It would cause a huge complication for the Confederacy as a whole if anyone besides them caught wind of it. "I can ensure you sir, what we say will never be heard to anyone outside of this room. For both our sakes."

Well it was more for Kirk's sake than Credius. Kirk didn't have much to lose and was an easy end to tie up. If he opened up to anyone about what happened he wouldn't wake up the next day.

Suddenly he could see the skin of the viceroy start to crack, looks like the force wasn't really holding up for him. "Viceroy!" He exclaimed running up to him, not knowing how the force worked. But the viceroy instructed he 'cleansed' the facility. With a nod, Kirk ran towards the quarantine security center. It was abandoned, Kirk already made sure of that when he ordered his research team to abandon quarantine. When he said abandon he meant everyone.

Making his walk to the center laid the command console for 'Emergency Countermeasure.' Before him were cams inside the refugee bloc where the refugees were consoling each other having hope. With some typing on the command console, Kirk shut down the security cams and wiped the footage so that it wouldn't be uncovered. Then Kirk started to activate the 'Emergency Countermeasure.' The console's monitor presented him with the procedure to activate it. First was the password and then a voice activated password only Kirk could say. He stuttered as he was about to burn hundreds of innocent people, but he had his orders and that was the bottom line for enlisted people like him. With a few deep breaths he recollected himself and said the password. "Shroud."

That was it. It was done, flamethrowers in the bloc were activated and were burning everything in there. Everything. Because the bloc was isolated from the rest of the base for health and safety reasons, only Kirk and Credius knew of this incident. Feeling the most guilt he ever felt, he sulked in his chair, hiding his head in his arms. No amount of closure will ever clear him of this memory. But he was glad he didn't have to the refugees melt.

Taiia Locke · Mar 14, 2020

.

Location: Atrisia
Wearing: This
With:

Vytal Noctura
Tagging:

Shamira Karuto |

Scàth Mhaolàin | Felurian Malvern | Tireya Syvare |

Aisha |

Alluria Ivalice |

John Locke

As soon as the Nightmother’s commands rang out the blaster bolts slowed before finally ceasing and for that she was able to still her lightsabers and take a deep breath of relief. Behind her an army of droids and spirits both surged forward to cover their movements, when the Nightmother called her name. She straightened and then turned moving to her side and then as instructed she took the Nightmother’s hand and lent her the power she needed a long with Shamira and before them a window to another location she had seen one before but that time the Nightmother had not needed assistance, a question for another time however as they emerged from the window into the palace grounds at the base of the steps up.

She looked at Shamira when she spoke and smiled a bit “Yes we made it through” the fighting sounded a bit distant now and with luck the droids and spirits were drawing most of the dead toward them now and perhaps that would allow them to slip in and do what they had come here to do. “Lead the way Nightmother we will guard you” not to say that Vytal was not capable of handling herself but simply they would deal with any distractions that should appear. She hefted her lightsabers higher and once again assumed a defensive posture the glow of the silver blades splitting the darkness around them, she was able to feel the pull of the dark side strongly from here the Jedi would teach to avoid such places and the Sith would tell you to give in as the dark pulled on her she simply drew more from the light distant as it was. She was at full alert and her emerald eyes scanned the darkness for any threat it dared send their way.

Tsian Denira · Mar 14, 2020

EQUIPMENT: Armor, Primary Weapon, Secondary Weapon
OBJECTIVE: Safeguard VIP

Prennis Keeoli
LOCATION: The Palace
TAGS:

Kyyrk

Tsian paused where the others did, at the edge of the carnage. She looked around to the soldiers around her, finally looking back to Prennis. "So you're telling me that we're charging into THAT, for the CHANCE of a cure." Tsian sighed quietly, as she looked back at the horde before them. Tsian considered her options for a moment, then turned away, and gestured to her soldiers to follow. "I need to speak with my men, Doc. Hold a moment." Tsian stepped far enough away to where the group could not be overheard. Tsian glanced over her shoulder at the writhing horde, a shiver running down her spine. "Men. I'm going to say it now. It's been an honor. Whatever comes of this, you are the best and brightest I've ever served with. But the odds before us will prove difficult. No way around that. If you have any hesitations about rescuing Callat, move to the financial district and link up with Lord Voph's team. No one will think less of you."

The squad looked around at each other for a moment. The fight to get here had been tough, and the infected had been swarming them the entire time. They were exhausted. But one of the soldiers stepped forward, holding out his arm. The blue armor was streaked with red, and Tsian could clearly see a bite mark under the mar in the armor. "I'm with you, ma'am. I don't have a choice." Tsian felt another chill go down her spine. The other soldiers also began to reveal various cuts and injuries. Tsian was the only one among them that wasn't infected. Her breath caught in her throat, and she instinctively brought her hand to her mouth as a wave of nausea washed over her. "Maker above..." That doctor had killed her squad. They hadn't taken the care needed to be safe. Tsian's head bowed and her shoulders slumped. She sighed heavily, and gestured that the Nephilim could return to the Doctor's side.

She, however, remained alone for a moment. She pulled up her wrist, and began speaking into her com. "Voph. It's Tisan. Keeoli thinks she can make a cure, but we've got to go to hell to get it. My squad is compromised. I'll do what I can to get her in, and keep her safe. It's been an honor, my lord. From the very beginning. I'm sorry I couldn't do more." Tsian reached up and pulled her helmet off, feeling the rush of air as a light breeze blew past. She dropped it where it was, a tear sliding down her cheek. "Take care of Vylmira for me. Denira out."

Tsian reached up to wipe the tear away from her cheek, and turned to rejoin the group. Her voice was still choked with emotion as she looked Prennis dead in the eye. "My men are lost. Unless you find a cure. We'll clear a path. Get you in close. You wont have long, so do what you need to do, and get out." Tsian offered the girl a crisp salute. "It was an honor to meet you, Keeoli. I can see why he likes you." Tsian gripped her rifle, and without further explanation gestured to the Nephilim to follow her. They moved as a cone, with Tsian at the front. They were going to drive a wedge into the horde, cutting a path directly to Callat. Rifles were brought to attention, and shots began to discharge, cutting down infected as the squad announced their presence. Tsian moved from a measured walk into a run, using her off hand to draw a combat knife. Perhaps today was a good day to die. Keeoli might find a cure. She had to. It was the only way. But Tsian had no intention of ever finding out. It wasn't her place. She was only concerned with getting Keeoli close enough to Callat to fix the problem. She knew she wouldn't live long enough to see the cure become a reality. But that was why she fought.

For a better tomorrow she would never live to see.

Vytal Noctura · Mar 14, 2020

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
Also:

Kyyrk |

Tsian Denira |

Damsy Callat |

Tiria Reinhart | Kirk Tektus |

Credius Nargath |

Anakwor Farlorn | Eira Talon |

Kas Varad | Darth Immortuos |

Slaad |

Xenro |

Subject 73 Red |

John Locke | Caedyn Arenais |

Kurenai Yumi |

WelshPsych | Darth Miseria |

Xobos Yakieer |

Junko Ike |

Alessandra Creed |

Ben Craig |

Kiff Brayde | Tobias Wrynn |

Gerwald Lechner | Gessethya Helfyld |

Asaraa Vaashe |

Jrurki Liz |

Gianna Aegis |

Chris Walker |

Darth Empyrean |

Maple Harte |

Kaden Farr | Mishel Kryze |

Leenic Ellsil |

Marlon Sularen |

Syd Celsius | Detro | Cypher Rage |

Daisy Americus

The Nightmother's glowing eyes peered up at the building that towered before them for just a second. Her jaw was set, and shoulders held consciously in place to keep from letting the exhaustion show. There was one, final ritual to perform before their push was done.

"BX-72967, have your droids secure the perimeter. Do whatever is necessary to hold the Palace." Even if they'd shot across the distance faster than the enemy was prepared for, they would eventually figure out where they'd gone. BX wasn't going to be sacrificed to the scrap heap, however. Vytal called out once more, "Sisters. Brothers. Bolster the droid ranks with your creations, your summons, and whatever fortifications will work on them." If they'd been organics there would be a host of other powers that could be levied. However, if they'd been organics there would have been an even greater danger of them becoming infected.

The pale Witch nodded with Taiia's shout of support. Despite being relatively young to spiritual matters or in their journey in delving into the Force or magick, the two women had done well so far. If nothing else their resolve remain solid. They did not panic or make a scene before the others. When called upon, they answered. Only with women like them could the Mandragora and the Knights Obsidian forge ahead to a better future for them all.

"Swiftly, on me," the Dathomiri woman cried before she forced herself to sprint up the stairs. Not even a surprise potshot or two of long-distance blasters would draw her gaze. They were at the End Game of their push and there could be no further delays. This might as well have been a host of young Nightsisters being chased by a herd of voracious beasts.

And while her conjuring of power had taxed her, the Nightmother could feel some of that energy beginning to return. Her legs did not feel quite so heavy with them standing within the heart of darkness. Within the Palace walls they would have cover while they called upon the sheer rage and spite that dwelt in this land. Let them come forth and be set upon the enemy that would claim their land; let them take a Nightsister's hand, a creature with no interest in claiming what was theirs, and only the dogged determination to overcome foes familiar and foreign. The Nightsisters endured. The Mandragora endured. And the Confederacy would claim the day.

As they hurried through the towering entrance, Sisters and Brothers would pick up stragglers of the enemy. Few would be here, however, as they'd taken to the vehicles and their underground tomb. So much the better.

As they entered into a large chamber, Vytal directed twenty-seven Witches and Warlocks to take position and join hands. Now was not the time to dally or posture. The Confederacy needed them, even if they did not yet know how or why. They would deal with whatever threat remain once the stage was set. She would, however, explain their purpose here.

"The dark energies of this world are strongest here from a conjuring of great power long ago. We will harness this, together; channel it, together; and let loose a spell unlike any other the enemy has seen this day. If any thought the storm sent against the Pillar of Light had been momentous, wait until you behold what you will now make manifest." Vytal's eyes swept those assembled. "Once the spell is in place, you can break the Circle. I will remain as its anchor, and trust myself and our work to your hands."

"Now, join me," the Nightmother's gauntlets reached out to those on either side of her, "and prepare yourselves."

With the circle formed of three sets of three groups of three witches, Vytal reached out to the power around them and to the connection she personally held. "The tempest that once laid waste. The Emperors that once held dominion. The world beset upon by disaster. The depthless hunger that would twist and consume those before it. Kin to the scourge on Atrisia now, yet no knee bent to its will. Come forth. Come forth. Come forth. Let your passions be known once more. Fill us now with your power, and let the galaxy never forget your names."

A surge of darkness would wash over all present, but soon any sense of foul corruption would be drawn away leaving only the throb of power in that place. The green fire of the Nightmother's eyes began to intensify with every second. "Let our enemies remember this day, and that even the Undead come to remember fear once more with the fury and the resolve of Sith Lords and Mandragora combined."

The air began to grow thick surrounding the Imperial Palace in the Forbidden City of Jar'Kai. An electric charge began to build exponentially and soon crackled to light where even the organic eye could witness it. It was a short lived warning to all those in the area -- to find one self on one side or the other of it. As the Pillar of Light that once sought to suppress the taint of this place, now a new wall would erupt into being of translucent, bright green to separate the palace grounds from the rest of the city.

Only, the effect did not stop there.

Quick as lightning, the sensation of thickening and electrifying power spread forth from the core of power. It surged across the land, pierced stone, brick, and metal alike. It dove into the planet. It spread out toward the stars. From orbit one might think Atrisia was showing the impending signs of exploding into countless pieces as the effect resembled cracks in the mantle of the planet. Cracks of light that spread further and further, faster and faster out from Jar'Kai. Not even the oceans were spared though the sections isolated were far larger in size there.

Asked to put the effect to paper, the very currents of magick (or the Force) would have been lifted from their ethereal existence and displayed for even those lacking magickal aptitude to see -- and feel. Some might even call them Leylines of power that held the greatest concentration of mystical energies of Atrisia. Now, they were fed a new spring of power and overflowed with abundance. Power would seek to build walls were once there had been open fields, through emptied homes in cities in some places, and span through the mightiest of mountain passes.

The Blackwing plague sought to creep across the face of the entire world. It sought to delve into its furthest reach. The Mandragora would put forth their mightiest effort and greatest concentration of power to deny them unfettered access. What they had claimed would be their extent. Now it would be left to others to see that this effort to contain the threat was put to good use.

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)

Credius Nargath · Mar 14, 2020

Location: Near Jar'kai ,Waru operations
Attire: Fabulous as always
Extra: Valkan Guards, Dictator Class Battlecruiser - The Valedictorian , KRONOS, Viral suppressor

As the ship carrying the supplies landed near the operations base, two members of the Valkan guard brought the large iron containers containing the basic tools, equipment and materials that had been requested to the Viceroy's location, the crates filled to the brim with beakers, exotic and expensive materials and various tools necessary for the Viceroy's research. Unlike those of the research team though, Credius was privy to the results of the viral strain up and close and thus more adept at classifying it and labelling it as a variation on the blackwing strain; a virus once produced as a miracle drug for the sake of attaining immortality, only to end up disastrously as a virus to which an actual cure had yet to be concocted, with the most effective means to date having been the entire massacre of the infected population or planetary glassing through orbital bombardments.

The Viceroy looked at the two men, motioning them to offer commander a hand if anything needed to be done from his end, though ofcourse, this new badge, yet untainted by the strain had also been instructed to silence the commander should the poor man break under either the pressure, the disease itself or the guilt that no doubt had piled upon himin his line of work. Credius was a Sith, but he wasn't heartless and instructed his men to be honest about this intent, given the commander despite not being a direct subordinate of the Viceroy, had at the very least understood that in this situation, Credius was his superior not in terms of rank, but experience and knowledge and those who were shown to be of sound mind and strength of character were rarely forgotten in the grand scheme of the Viceroy.

Ofcourse, among the supplies were ample vials containing the Viceroy's blood, always prudent and foreseeing any necessity of it and at a time like this, where he too was infected by the viral strain which the planet was buckling under, thus he had to rely on this precautioned meassure for the sake of any sort of success.

Mixing dried up Black orchid with a solution containing epicantrix blood, the Viceroy added some clean, filtered water and added a few other materials from within the containers. Putting a decent amount of this mixture within a duralum container, Credius carefully opened the centrifuge, putting the seperated plasma of the infected corpses into the mix, shaking the container to mix it all properly before letting spark of black lightning appear around his hands before a controlled release of force lightning coursed through the container.

Nuyak Valia Kash Dabar
Nuyak Valia Kash Viskas

Jorath Inoruti Nuyak Valia
Nuo Jorath Valia posses Zhol
Xuolis Kia Nuyak Valia

Nuo Nuyak Valia Kash Viskas
Nuo Nuyak Valia Kash Dabar

With caution, the Viceroy closed his eyes, pouring his very essence within his lightning, aiming to maximize the result and the potency of the spoken words, his lightning altering, strengthening and empowering the mixture within on an insane alchemically molecular level, guiding and bending the force to his desire, to his will in a perverse way as the Jedi would so dogmatically imply. However, Credius knew that due to the perverted, dark origin of the Virus they were facing, only the dark side could provide relief. Not salvation, but at the very least relief, a sanctity in its own right when faced with such virulent atrocities.

With the liquid cooling down as he stopped his lightning from passing through it, the viceroy grabbed himself one of the syringes brought alongside the rest of the equipment, dipping the tip of it into the liquid, drawing it into a vial to be placed into an injection pistol, calling out for one of themen who he had with him to come over. This man, amemberof the first group of Valken Guards that had reached the camp with the viceroy, was but one of a handful remaining survivors, yet he too was at the end of his rope and strength. As the man removed his helmet, it became visible that he had bloodshot eyes and blood was trickeling out of his nose, his veins visible underneath his skin, practically ready to burst.

"May the force protect you my boy...Have you written your will?" Credius looked at the man with concern, which looked somewhat misplaced on his unnatural visage, but as the man gave a nod in agreement, the Viceroy moved the injection shot close to the man's neck, before injecting the liquid from within the syringe into the man's almost bursting vein.

For a moment, there was only silence, the man started to cough loudly, darkened blood splattering upon the ground, with the man grasping for his throat before collapsing onto the ground, screaming in pain and anguish. Realizing his mistake, the vieroy moved closer to the writhing guard, placing one hand against the man's neck, right above the place where the suppressant had been injected, while he placed his other hand upon the poor man's chest. "While I may not be able to heal you through the use of the force, I reckon the danger of this drug lies within the flow of its darkside properties...good to know." Directing the force within the guard's body, touching and feeling where the dormant force within the suppressant was acting afoul, the viceroy corrected the flow, tempered it and as soon as he did so, it seemed to alleviate the guard's pain and suffering, as he began to breath more calmly, became less pale and actually smiled in relief. "Allright, put all the rest of this container into vials, bring them to the ship and make sure to imply that those who can't direct the force themselves, should only be using it with supervision of those who can. Bring it to Jar'kai itself, Bring it to Xam'chi, bring it to everyone."

Motioning the rest of the men to take the suppressant, which seemed to go without much of a hitch, Credius sent one of them with three of the vials to the Commander's location, with the strict instructions to have the commander and the two guards leave for the dropship outside the camp so they could distribute the suppressant, while Credius would inform the minister of science in orbit on the success of having a temporary solution to combat this issue.

However, as always, bad things happen to those who least expect it and especially so to those who had been given hope in the darkest of hours. Fate after all, was fickle.

The screams and screeches were louder than he had expected, he heard the rumbling underneath, the darkness of theforce seeping into the air. It was then that he realized his mistake, it wasn't just life which drew these things, but death as well, more so a brutal death, like the one to which he had condemnedthe refugees. Turning to the remaining Valkan guards, Credius' eyes turned even more fierce than they already looked in their bloodred color. "Get the commander, get the rest of the men and get yourselves aboard the dropship, take the suppressant, go to Xam'chi...there are many who will be needed to fight longer, bring them the drug!!" The Valkan guard gave a nod and managed to run towards the location of the other valkan guards and the commander, while Credius reactivated KRONOS and told it to activate 'Protocol Theta' just to be sure. The AI responded by dispatching part of itself into a B-1 battledroid, rewriting and taking over the droid's systems, while the AI core floated through the air towards the ship among the first batch of Valkan guards carrying the crate with the vials.

Using his cypher, Credius tried to gain contact with the Minister of science and though the cypher showed that a connection had been established, the video feed showed nothing on the minister's end. Ignoring this though, Credius started his briefing on the situation. "Minister

John Locke , I have managed to create a suppressant, it should be enough to suppress the infection in any state and bring any victim to normalcy for a set duration of time, which I reckon to be between six and twelve hours, though caution is advised, for it relies heavily upon matters of the force and will need those with some...aptitude to administer it to their comrades and to control the flow to avoid casualties," Injecting the suppressant into one of his arms, the Viceroy could feel it working immediately, his own breathing becoming less shallow and his fever breaking almost instantly, though a certain burning sensation could be felt. Using this moment of relief to reuse his masking, to yet again appear normal, Credius prepared to gather his things and move, yet when the videofeed as well finally connected, a shriek could be heard off-screen, with the camp suddenly overrun by the infected, with Credius retreating with a single blaster pistol.

The Viceroy hurriedto the remaining members of his guard, who were trying to hold off the infected as they ran towards the dropship, with the viceroy hoping that the Commander had already reached the droppoint along with the vials of suppressant by now. Yet when the viceroy got back to get the cypher, he was cut off from his men and from any route to the dropship, with most droids already having been silenced and only the B-1 under KRONOS' control still resisting. Grabbing the cypher with one hand and looking at the oncoming horde of infected, Credius could only laugh, firing off a few more shots before throwing away the pistol and turning to face the cypher's recording one more time. "It seems my position has been overrun, The suppressant is secure...demanding authorization for the ship to move freely to aid and relief our forces to the best of their ability..."

As he dropped the cypher, Credius did not know wether or not the device was still recording or transmitting, not really a concern anyway, as he got surrounded by dozens of infected. Laughing out loud, the man started to channel the force through himself, letting streams of intense black lightning burst out ot the tips of his fingers, melting away a handfull of infected with a single burst, yet the more he seemed to kill, the more there seemed to be to fill up their fallen comrades' ranks. Before he knew it, he was overrun by the infected, feeling their teeth sink into his flesh, spitting their blood into his eyes and mouth, while he still resisted by pouring out the lightning out of his entire body with an unmatched intensity and ferocity.

"I...can't...die...yet, I WILL NOT die at the hand of some feral beasts!!" Without restraint, a wave of electricity rippled through the air, dispersing throughout a radius of easily a hundred meters, desintegrating every single infected within this radius to dust and as this dust settled, Credius stood up again, whiping his mouth with a handkerchief and walking or rather shuffling towards the cypher which he had dropped., looking at it for a moment, before his leg started jerking, his back started arching upwards as he started to cough uncontrollably, to which the man reacted by injecting even more suppressant into himself.

Writhing in pain and agony, Credius' skin tore open at various places, blackened flesh showing underneath, while he screamed, covering his eyes with his hands. Without stopping, he continued to alternate between coughing and screaming, suddenly puking out an immeassurable amount of black blood, while something seemed to ripple underneath his skin and his clothes.

A few remaining infected came closer to the screaming, coughing and now also puking man, apparently rather careful for some reason, when suddenly without warning black tendrils jutted out of the black liquid and dragged in the infected while they were kicking and screaming loudly, vanishing within the pool of black liquid, while Credius seemed to calm down at the center of it. "heh...heheh...HAH...HAHAHAAAH" He could sense them, he could smell them, he could sniff them all out, so much force, so much power, so much life left to be snuffed out and to be consumed. removing his hands from his eyes, tensing his muscles, with the jewel upon his chest pulsating loudly, the man at the center let out a thunderous roar within the force, which acted like a shockwave, rippling through the ground and air alike and destroying all in its path with the violent nature of the darkside ofthe force...and thus the recording ended.

The birth of a phoenix coinciding with the dawn of a demon
one to rise, one to fall

Vytal Noctura |

John Locke |

Darth Assimilus |

Slaad |

Darth Empyrean

Prennis Keeoli · Mar 15, 2020

{ Location: Xiaolang canal, Xam'Chi }
{ Equipment: Robes + scrubs, meditation amulet, holo matrix,
diagnostic gauntlet / headset, medkit, blaster pistol }
{ Status: Hoping she's not infected }
{ Objective: SOF - Save Our Fish }
{ Tag: