Flashpoint: Maramere | CIS Dominion of Maramere (S,48)

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Objective: Dealing with a Stronghold
Location: Just out of the Mountain reach and moving in
Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Darth Metus"]
Wearing: Armour
Wielding: Chakram, Sword, Rifle, "The Nasty Blade"
Post: Two

In her head, her Ward's voice came through. Pebble's voice cheerfully announced she had killed two and a half soldiers. Kick, slam, balm, whoo! The words made her giggle behind her mask as she moved on higher, spotting an entrance she was going to go through. Pebble continued talking into her mind, describing in detail what she had done. In truth, Katrine was being highly entertained by the description given. Limbs detached water drinking. Then it became interrupted as she said the Confederacy hadn't contacted her but she was supposed to pass on that the water wasn't safe, laced with diuretics. Katrine nodded to herself.

She still continued walking, grabbing on against the stones as her climb became steeper. Those who lived in mountains needed the sun still, needed air to breathe, needed entry and exit points. She knew that from the stronghold she was raised in. 'That sounded like fun. Sucks that I missed it, Katrine returned after a moment before she addressed anything else. Just before a map entered her mind, her head pulling back slightly as she closed her eyes, memorizing the map inside her head. From where she was now, she would have to go down to meet up with Scherezade. Thanks, the Witch returned as she mapped her own route.

Further movement through the snow, her uphill walk becoming more a climb, she reached the entrance. Locked though. That was fine, she told herself as she summoned the Force and pushed it into her limbs just before she would ram her fist against it, the Force making the impact far stronger than she herself could achieve. The enhanced punch against it broke the lock, forcing the entrance open. The sound of it wasn't something she could mask as she jumped in, moving forward based on the map she was following in her mind, expecting trouble. In her ear, there was ongoing chatter after a moment, following the long silence. Katrine reached out herself to the Fortressa and [member="Srina Talon"]. "Srini, issue an alert to everyone. Pebble contaminated the water system. It's off limits." There it was, the announcement passed along, Katrine continued just as she heard movement towards her, a small group of soldiers coming her way. Riffle already in hand, she fired at the first line before she jumped over them, avoiding their blaster fire, her right hand releasing her rifle as she reached for her chakram, using it to cut against the weapons aimed at her before she'd land behind them.

Normally, the very sight of her would make her opponent assume she was a harmless little girl but behind her mask and armor, they were thankfully skipping through that as she spun and kicked against the back of the last soldier, his stump forward forcing him to hit against the one in front of him. Katrine moved quick by nature and training, returning the chakram back where it belonged on her back before picking up her rifle again and eliminating the soldiers still standing before she'd left the fallen, still following the mental map in her head.

Far from her, the spirits cried out in unity from the mix of emotions following through them. Doashim roared the loudest in her ears just as an image of her Uncle Isley formed. For a split second, Katrine would assume he was in trouble, in pain and fear and then, the thought became clearer. Those were not his feelings but they had come to him. In the next moment, she didn't know if the ground beneath her was shaking or if she was feeling the waves from a stone thrown from far her. It was powerful enough that it made her search for support against the wall, forcing her to inhale a deep breath. There was a severe usage of the Force at work in the distance, powerful enough to shake her up.

In the confusion of her mind, she heard Srina's voice. No mercy. No more. Through the influx of power coming from Uncle Isley, she understood and weathered through her confusion, pushing herself off the wall as she marched forward. A heartbeat later, she had summoned the sword as she moved, calling it from the ichor. It appeared in her hand, green mist dancing against the blade. When two more soldiers came away, she had cut through the first before he had a chance to aim at her, kicking the second with her foot before she would stab him. The sheer flow of power no longer affected her senses as her connection to the Force broke but the effects were heavy on her mind, empowering her forward. Intoxicating.

In her ear, Srina spoke. Even in the sentence, the thought passed was simple. "Nessuna pietà. Cadono." Katrine responded, unaware of the language used as she continued forward, holding on to her sword and waiting for more soldiers. She didn't offer them mercy. There was no mercy to be offered to the oppressors. Not today, not ever. At the end of the long hallway, a turbolift waited. She called for it with a push of a finger. "I'm coming for you, Pebble," Katrine spoke through her communicator. It would be a short ride down from where she was, though Katrine was in the moment unaware of what was happening with her Ward. She needs you, at least until Jart whispered in her mind. In a moment, the Witch relinquished her hold of the sword and it vanished back into the ichor.

She still couldn't reach out to Scherezade through the Force, not until the effects of the ichor had released her but the spirit was clear enough to tell her she was needed now. The turbolift doors opened at that moment and she entered, pressing the right button, doors closing a moment later.

Spoiler

No mercy. They fall.

 

[Er'in Tenel]

Location: Fortress Main Engineering
Objective: Raising the dead. No rest for the wicked, and we're all out of righteous on this planet...

No mercy. No more.

"Oh Srina."

Er'in's words echoed around the now lifeless vault through which she stalked, the slumped bodies of the defenders strewn behind her in lifeless repose.

She could not reply, but her mind gave off the faintest mental acknowledgement and - most surprisingly - a touch of sympathy and love as she accepted a spark of the fury that engulfed her sister and let it fall into the heated blackness of her connection to the Force.

Fury erupted within her soul and her stride faltered as she struggled to keep control of the Force, to master the Dark Side, rather than to let it consume her. Intellect must leash fury and harness fear. Passions are controlled and used, not indulged.

They had been played by a master - she wished she could meet him or her - it was hard to bear them no ill-will, given the fury lighting her soul. The anger for the loss of her sister and her sisters so hard fought for balance. Er'in was Sith, she knew fury. But Srina... she wanted to meet this foe and learn from them, before she allowed others their righteous revenge, or took it herself.

The people of this Fortress were scum, but they had not earned the peace the CIS brought with it - the peace of death, the silence of the grave and the echoing and haunting screams were the tools of the Sith Empire, not of the Confederacy. Might this split the Confederacy? It might. It might well ruin the man who thought of himself as Isley Verd, even now.

Now that, that was a point of anger she could get behind. She hadn't come this far, killed this many people, fought her way out of a gilded cage just for someone to trick and break something she had created.

No mercy.

No one lived to see her face, no one heard the calm but deeply passionate, even furious Hapan voice speaking the words of the ancient spell. A spell more powerful than any she had cast until this date, the dread Tsaiwinokka Hoyakut copied from Darth Metus's private collection, but until now too difficult and - honestly - not that useful.

"Pro nuyak art ir nuyak valia, nu visita sh'jatau tave tave cechijas,
Pro naile, nu postum savimi sulig tave chaosas kia sis aikste,
Pro nuyak art ir nuyak valia, nu bind tave cechijas kia nuyak valia,
Pradzia ir slay visa kuris staenas."

The fire burned in her soul, her mind struggled to encompass the ritual gestures, the flow of the Dark Side and the fury with which it - and her allies emotions - sought to snatch control from her.

Rip. Rend. Destroy. Tear. Embrace your power through blood and pain!

No. She would not submit, not now, not here.

A mist gathered in the corridors across the Fortress - not in all of them, or perhaps even in the majority - a dark, stinking and fetid mist that was the very breath of the Netherworld released into the galaxy by her will.

Where this mist met the living, it past without a trace, but where it met the dead it flowed into their mouths and eyes until both were black with the dark side, until the corpse was full of terrible energy and became a corpse no longer, animated by the unnatural powers, attacking allies and enemies alike without remorse or feeling. Those who were bitten would turn in time, attacking their own.

The CIS living could walk among the undead without fear - at least for now, and the zombies did not seem to regard droids as threats. But anyone else was meat for the horde.

A plague upon this place, for Er'in cared not for it's inhabitants or what they did or did not deserve. Let the scourge flay them, let any who escaped carry the memories of terror so that fewer would stand the next time. It was an exercise in the potential of power, and who cared how pirates died? After the reactor went up, there would be no evidence one way or another.

 

[Anya Malvern]

Objective-break that defense..and take the strong hold
Location-few klicks outside of the stronghold

The ride down had been bumpy say the least,by bunpy she meant that about mid way she jumped out of the drop ship and landed quite hard. She was glad she was enhanced or that would've hurt....dust settled to reveal the red head, a flash of orange and her saber activated as she felt the call of battle coursing through her veins. She gave a wide grin and started charging forth towards the enemy

Shot came close to hitting her, she smiled at them as she slid to a stop and the air grew suddenly hot! Enough any vexation began to brown around her before bursting into flames as she a burst of flames towards their line, setting ablaze those who dared challenge the confederacy! She quickly moved for cover feeling herself drained, she hated this body for that reason it was exactly used to using the force in great amounts. She pulled her blaster pistol out and took a breath peeking out she fired on a few then back in

Within the force she felt....she couldn't describe it, she looked around and closed her eyes...around her the world changed, she looked around again and spotted...something she couldn't describe but it was powerful, enough it actually scared her a bit before she realized it was on their side. She opened her eyes and felt the call of the doashim...the mark burned as she felt bloodlust take her over, she hopped out of cover drawing out her sword as she ran towards the fighters. She let a cry of war out as she kept upon them

Limbs flew, scream could be heard as metal and fire cut the enemy down before she finally slowed and took cover....she let a breath put and gave a smile...she was kinda glad the battle wasn't over just yet

 

[Asantas]

The moment he was deployed he wasted no time to start his rampage taking point to the command center as he pushed through using alter environment the terrain shifted and formed cover for himself and his Exterminatus as well as provide as a road through the fortress as he crushed anything or anyone that got in his way either in a hail of fire or a flurry of ice shards or sliced away by his own blade it mattered not how clean or well he killed as long as those who opposed the CIS and are its enemies where removed as he carved his way to the command center he melted the door to the command room and in a flurry of blaster fire cleared the room of enemies before taking to the PA and in a deep metallic voice he spoke out to the opposition.

Attention those who are fighting the forces of the CIS in a hopeless attempt to hold what power you may have here, Your fortress is now our fortress....I give you this opportunity .....Surrender and admit defeat, Or perish...This is your only warning.

After that he waited and went to secure the command center for his other brethren to arrive.\

[member="Kyber"] [member="Rog-r"] [member="Vulture 21"] [member="WD-334"] [member="BX-72967"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Objective : Reminisce | Location : An Old Man's Thoughts, X and X | Theme |



"More unrest on Maramere as fighting continues. Investors are predicting a small rise in kolto prices in the coming months due to fighting on the planet...."


Maramere.


Judah hadn't visited the planet in nearly a decade, arriving as a young man and nervous new business owner looking to make a name for himself and expand a fledgling algae fuel business. He had ran into [member="Danger Arceneau"] on that trip, 'neighbors' in the hotel where a large business convention was being hosted. Judah had lucked into knowing the Trade Queen through a Southern Systems Bazaar, the woman taking one look at his young son and forming some near instant and unexplained bond with the boy. Even today the real reason on why she had taken such a shine to Makai remained a mystery to himself. By natural extension they had gotten to know one another, drift in circles Judah had never thought of entering.


Makai considered Danger his best friend. It didn't take long for the boy to consider Miss Arceneau as a surrogate mother, to consider Tatooine his home.


Drifting closer, it wasn't hard to see why the Trade Queen charmed everyone she met. Danger Arceneau was everything a man like himself craved. Intelligence beyond measure. Unsurpassed beauty. Quick wit. A strong woman who could hold her own - who did hold her own and then some. Yet she was warm, caring and genuine all at the same time.


Yet he had realized it all too late. His wife had went missing and he had been clinging to a dream, both hurt and lost. On Maramere both had danced dangerously close to giving in to mutual attraction. Scared and holding onto hope he had shut the door on the opportunity to fully claim the Trade Queen's heart. It took a couple years to realize how much of an idiot he was. To let such a woman slip through his fingers.


Perhaps then it was only natural they drifted apart over the years.Danger was married now. Makai still considered the woman his surrogate mother and he encouraged the relationship while maintaining a respectable distance. Despite the years it didn't stop a twinge of melancholy from drifting through him, didn't stop feelings that had been tamped down for nearly a decade to rise briefly to the surface.


Maramere, beautiful and bittersweet, much like the Trade Queen herself.

 

[BX-72967-RAZOR]

Faithful and true, the turbolift soon descended to meet the Exterminatus.

Vermes wasted no time in making short work of those who stood in its way. By blade and by disruptor, it carved a path forward until it and its compatriots occupied the lift. The elevator shuddered and groaned against the weight of the machines, but ferried them up all the same. In but the span of seconds, Exterminatus would be unleashed upon the innards of the Fortress.

By now, the combined might of @Erin Tenel, [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], and [member="Scherezade deWinter"] had seen immense progress in the seizure of the Fortress. Between soldiers loosing their bowels, being devoured by undead, and simply being dead, the way to the Command Center was a cake walk. As Vermes progressed, one of its peers posed a valid question. It gave the Commando pause, actually stopping it in its tracks.

"We..."

Did they have a choice?

Would interpretation be seen as deviation? Were they free to make the decision - or were their orders laid in stone? Vermes knew the nation's stance on its existence, it was a tool. What it knew and "felt" were simply programming. If it failed, it could be scrapped, just as it had been centuries ago. But...this nation said it was different. It acted different too - harshly against its enemies yes, but different. Vermes processed the inquiry thoroughly before answering.

"Exterminatus, Round up any who surrender. Eliminate any who do not. Our superiors have the final say on whether they live or die beyond that." said the Vermin to the Dragon.

Having uttered this, the Commando watched as [member="G3M1N1"] advanced past it. With the fury of the Force in hand, it burned and freezed a path through to the Command Center. And, soon thereafter, its voice rang out across the comm channels. Surrender or Die.

And having witnessed all that they had today, between the battle of literal Titans to the corruption of their water supply, those natives who yet opposed them reconsidered their position. One by one, across the Fortress and its exterior, blasters were laid to the ground and hands were raised. Above, the forces gathered to oppose Storm Fleet fell silent and a missive was sent to [member="Srina Talon"] signifying their surrender. The day was won - now all that remained was clean up.

With the round up of the surrendees now in motion by the Exterminatus, Vermes now strode over to the woman who had seen the lift lowered. It knew this simply by IFF, and thereby extended not the edge of its blade but its hand.

"You are in need of medical attention."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"], @Erin Tenel, [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], [member="WD-334"], [member="Kyber"], [member="G3M1N1"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Daxton Bane"]​

 

[Ravenfire]

Vulture after having destroyed the gun emplacements and soldiers along the beach finally landed. Standing on it's wings it began to walk around still firing at anyone non-confederate. His green photo-receptors taking in all the destruction. As he walked around destroying them all. He couldn't speak but if he could he would be saying there is no surrender, you attacked us, you don't deserve to live. To anyone watching it was clear the droid would be taking no prisoners. Many of them tried to run only to be gunned down by vulture. He took no pleasure in it but then again he also generally disregarded any form of life that wasn't a droid.
[member="BX-72967"], [member="G3M1N1"], @Er'in Tenel, [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: The Fortressa [Command] - Exosphere of Maramere
Sitting With: [member="Darth Metus"]
Wearing: This
Quote: "Those who make war against the Confederacy of Independent Systems have chosen their own destruction. We will honor their choice."

“Full, unconditional, surrender. This is our final offer. It is your only hope.”

Her words echoed throughout the command dome of the Fortressa. There was no hesitance, none of her usual diplomacy, and certainly, no mercy. The civilian-run ships that had already held their fire with the very visceral threat of extinction completely backed down. Any sort of target lock they had established with the meager weapons they had cobbled together disappeared. From there, the Apprentice ordered them back to their planet, where they would await debriefing. If the Confederacy was to do anything good for this godforsaken world it would not be possible until the fighting stopped.

With their enemy presumably gone it would be easy to wrest control from the zealots and leftover pieces of the of the government. Maramere had been blinded and deceived by a madman. There was still time to set things right. Still time, to spare as many as they could, while upholding their original agreement. Peace was desired. Peace, was what Maramere would have.

Since the fleet that had decided to oppose them was dealt with and their misbegotten perceptions were diffused she was able to once again focus on the Sith Lord that rest in her lap. She couldn’t tell what he had done after the death of his sibling sliced through her core, but she could feel power, his power, growing exponentially. She had no concept of the Manda, or the conceptualized spirits that was intent on devouring—but she knew when enough was enough.

“Come back, Isley.”

Gloved fingers reached for the clasps that held his helmet secure. She knew, he could hear her. Her Master could ALWAYS hear when she cried out the loudest, not with words, but with the entirety of her being. The calmly spoken request was coupled with a desperate and silent shout that would cause ripples in the Force. His power fed her, changed her, and amplified what the spirit ichor had done to repair her body when she’d been damaged.

She would pull him back from the brink.

Not because she believed he had done anything wrong. No, it was because he had asked her to. The sacrifice of [member="Ginnie Verd"] was not something she would be able to easily forget. However, she was Echani, at the end of the day. They did what they needed to. One life. Just one, would spare their member worlds infinite, incalculable pain. Math, unlike literature, did not lie. One versus the many. One would die, so that hundreds, thousands, could live.

Such was the duty of the Vicelord. Nothing could come before his Confederacy. Not family, not the illusion of love, not a karking thing. “…Come home.”

Srina willed her armor away, and with it, went her gloves. It wasn’t needed anymore. She rest a cool palm on the forehead of her Master and waited to feel his consciousness respond to her call. She released the darkness that bound him. She released the demonic projection. She dispelled it like smoke on the breeze. Soon, he would wake. When he did they would take a shuttle from the Fortressa to the ground.

The battle was won, but their work, was never finished. Maramere had much to answer for and the Confederacy had a hero to memorialize.

​

Spoiler

Tags: [member="Ginnie Verd"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="BX-72967"] | [member="WD-334"] | [member="Anya Malvern"] | [member="G3M1N1"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Vulture 21"] |

 

[WD-334]

WD-334 held it's shield aloft, forward. Firing it's cannon forth upon their foes, and it's guard doing the same. Fighting and pushing and....and then an order came. For surrender? The others began to surrender, and WD-334 was not one to disobey...though usually WD kept no prisoners. So it stood there, just waiting for someone to make a move. Just waiting for someone to act against them so that WD could blast away.

WD-334 would very well make an action against it's foes as soon as they fought back, if they attempted to. But for now, they made a perimeter, or at least the best they could at making a perimeter.

@Kyber @Vulture 21 [member="BX-72967"] [member="Rog-r"] [member="G3M1N1"]

 

[Queen Bots™]

​

M A R A M E R E​

​

The Confederacy swept through Maramere and purged the area of the damage their enemy had done. The remains of the Lok Remnant were dealt with, swiftly, and the citizens implicated in what appeared to be an unmitigated disaster were permitted to return to return to their homes. It was a difficult time. Most had been mentally tricked by a psychopath into going against their better natures. Others had been blackmailed and threatened until they agreed to take up arms against those that had come to help them. The entirety of the CIS would feel the blow, the hole, which had been made in their operations due to the passing of Ginnie Verd.

The official report would read that the sibling of the Vicelord had been caught in the crossfire. The details would not be lacking, nor would they be overly complicated, given the circumstances. There would be a memorial raised for the young woman in Geonosis, for her pain, and her service, but it would have to wait until Maramere could be restored. It had not yet been discussed if such a travesty would be allowed to stand. In life, had Ginnie Verd really accomplished everything she was meant to? Would she be at peace?

The Vicelord would be too devastated by the loss and the consequences of his actions to pour through the gravity of the situation when the Confederacy still required him. His personal issues would pale in comparison to the needs of the many.

Each droid within Exterminatus would play a pivotal role in securing Mount Merakan. Once it was under control, with the blood, death, and corruption cleansed from every floor the Confederacy would assume control of the fortress and convert the previously abandoned structure to an out-post. From there, they would begin overtures of an armistice, and they would also begin making arrangements with the few governmental officials left on the playing field.

Maramere would be brought into the fold. With the absence of their enemy his hold on their minds dissipated. The people requested their help more than ever. There were communities to rebuild and assurances that needed to be made. It would take time, however, Maramere would heal. The Confederacy would see it through, no matter how long it took, or what was required.

| . | Mission Log Amendment:

This venture had not gone according to plan. It is a theme as of late that the Viceroyalty have been unable to ignore. The Knights Obsidian do their best to maintain order and to keep the displays of Forcer Use, such as the likes of Maramere, under control...Yet they cannot be everywhere at once. With the explosion of the ship the enemy tried to use to abscond, as well as the death of Ginnie Verd, this chapter of CIS history seems to have come to a close. Exterminatus performed better than expected. They would be utilized more frequently in the future and without hesitation. Machines did not see the pieces of humanity that would give most organics reason to pause. Most, save, perhaps beings like [member="Scherezade deWinter"]. This mission has added quite a few notations to the psychological evaluations listed among her profile.

Questions: Is the Confederate enemy really gone? Regardless, where are his compatriots? Will Ginnie Verd be allowed to remain among the dead?

Answers at this time, unknown. Defenses of all member worlds kept static. Threat level remains steady per prior protocol. Pending investigation closure. | . |

Spoiler

As always, feel free to continue your own personal stories. Thank you for a wonderful dominion so far!

Spoiler

[member="Ginnie Verd"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="BX-72967"] | [member="WD-334"] | [member="Anya Malvern"] | [member="G3M1N1"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Vulture 21"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Judah Dashiell"] | [member="Er'in Tenel"] |[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

So much blood and carnage, it was a slaughthouse for those that tried to resist the Confederate tide that wash relentlessly all the stood in its path. We won the day but what price? Was bringing this world into the fold worth all the sacrifices made? That would a question of the learned and enlightened. Daxton had no time for such musings, as the med bots tended to the wounded around him.

He was annoyed with himself as he lay on the bloodied gurney, staring upward at the relentless lights threw illumination over his prone form. Daxton had gotten cocky and underestimated the desperation of the defenders, lured into a trap, he would have been crushed when they blew the support pillars along with themselves and dropped the stronghold ceiling on his head.

If it wasn’t for his quick thinking, it would have been a rather ignoble end of the harbringer of chaos, but life was not done with him just yet. Both legs were shattered along with a dozen metal bearings lodged in his spine. A very painful way to die indeed, an even more painful way to live and linger on.

But the already the Orbalisks were hard at work, knitting bone and flesh as they drew more from the pool of Daxtons darkness. Still the pain was so powerful and intense, he grit his teeth as he waited for them to finish the job. He only prayed tht none of the ladies would discover him here. He would hate to be fuzzed over, especially if the smiling faceless god he worshiped was in a generous mood.

 

[Er'in Tenel]

The would remember her, the witch.

The one who had walked with the ranks of their fallen friends and family surrounding her, a tattered, mist-shrouded horde of the walking dead.

The one who had slain without mercy and without apparent pleasure, as emotionless a killing machine as any Jedi on the surface.

Until you met her eyes and saw the pent up wrath within, channeled and carved into groves of hate and fear - into obedience to her will.

The one who had held her blade when a babbling, pleading woman protested her innocence only seconds after cutting down the man beside her.

The one who seemed not to care that they had been the pawns of another, the one who seemed indifferent to their suffering beyond the most basic first aid - and seemed not to care at all about the abominations she had made from their fallen, or the creeping plague she excised with brutal efficiency, casting the husks of the dead into oblivion and maiming or slaying any who bore their bite.

But the one who, upon being told they had been leashed by mentalism - yoked by the Force, had for the first time gotten visibly angry and promised a retribution - not for the dead, not for the living, but for the loss of freedom of both. When one angry young hothead had asked her why, her warm, seductive smile had accompanied a strangely terrible reply.

"The Force shall set us free."

Was this the freedom of the CIS? Someone who seemed not to care her fellows had been tricked, that someone had lost control on such a scale as to slay family and bring ruin to hundreds, if not thousands or tens of thousands of lives. Who seemed indifferent to their suffering, only seeming to help those willing to crawl to their knees themselves - holding out a hand only for those who were able to stand. But who upon finding out the whole thing had been the result of forceful control, had sworn vengance for them? A vengance they did not ask for - although it might be wrong to say all of them did not want it, for some of them felt she understood them all too well.

No. For others brought aid, compassion and sorrow.

But they would remember the witch.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: One last deed at the command center
Wearing: This coat, these boots, pants, shirt, etc
Wielding: Cerka knife, Dissuader D-30 Slugthrower Pistol with Glitter Bullets (3 rounds), a bottle of strong diuretic (last one), and a water bottle that has diuretics already mixed in it.
Tags: [member="BX-72967"] [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] @Nemesis Nemonus
Posts: 4

​

They were... They were given the choice? Surrender or die?

Scherezade's cheeks turned a deep red. Her hand let go of the turbolift, her notice of the killer droids around her dropping to zero within an instant, her waiting for Katrine now over.

No! She had not been on this crappy backwater planet for three days and then did all she'd done so the others could fight things out for ten minutes and bring our the celebration hats. It was too small. It was too... Insignificant. Her insides raged. She wanted to scream. She wanted to break something. She wanted to...

She wanted to cause damage.

"You can come with me, or you can stay behind and pet the stupid survivors," she told the droid nearest her, and broke into a run. She had a general layout of the place inside her head. She hadn't been to the command center yet, but she knew where it was.

The Sithling let a grunt out as she realized some of the droids had beat her to it. They were already in the command center, and the fortress' people had surrendered. They were standing in the corner, hands up, weapons gone.

"We can be so much more," she sighed, her voice just above a whisper.

A knife flashed in each of her hands.

All of them, all of them, who were standing in the corner, pathetically surrendering, she killed them all. Her knives worked fast, as did the rest of her body. Heads were decapitated, set to rolling on the cold floor. In only took a few seconds. Scherezade was covered in blood now, breathing hard.

"We can be so much more."