Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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From Beneath You [TSE Dom of Gravlex Med Hex]

Objective: (Laminanium mission: Write through the eyes of an NPC) If a droid kills a gentlebeing, is it murder, or a tragic accident?
Location: Gravlex Med – Old mountain complex.

Darling jogged over to the child and skipped past it to avoid slipping on one of the cups that had fallen on the dust-covered metal floor. He held the blaster out in front of him, stopping in a stable pose for a second while he checked the perimeter. Nothing there. Yet, there were life forms registered in the area. He could just not pinpoint them.

One could wonder why they were there. This was not for Darling. He only knew that they were and they needed not to be. Such were his orders.

Droids follow orders.

He stopped before the T-intersection, standing perfectly still in the middle of the path. Did the blue mistress have his back? No, she was still back there. Ought he f-

CLANK!

A bolt of green energy strafed his metal torso and knocked him off balance. A second shot cracked the corner. Darling took aim again. The target had half cover. He had a 60% chance of missing. Not worth- CLANK! Kark it – Darling took aim and pulled the trigger. The plasma clipped the attacker’s cheek, sending it reeling back.

The droid stepped forward into the intersection, checking his left – Nothing – Then turning right again to aim at the one he had clipped. One more shot, square in the back. Darling turned left and wandered on into the construct.

Getting shot at was such a hazzle. Perhaps it would be better to wait for Mistress Filiae? Nah, he could handle it. He had been shot twice, right? Barely a scratch! Darling limped down the hall with the blaster extended in front of him.

[SIZE=8pt]Hide, hide![/SIZE]

Darling stopped in front of another bend just as a vibroblade crashed into his midsection. The wielded wiggled it out, disrupting the droid from aiming, then chopped into his chest. It would probably hurt, Darling guessed. The situation was negative; switch to melee system.

He dropped the blaster and grappled the one wailing on his chassis. With a pre-programmed motion, he tossed the shape to the left, into the wall. It did not detach from him, therefore his systems concluded that the target was grappling back. Repeat motion. He bashed the Anx into the wall one more time, and another, and another. The brick slowly changed colour, and so did the sound from the knife-faced assailant. Shouts turned from anger, to agony, to a low wheeze.

One more time. The body fell. Self defence protocol: Reset to ranged mode.

He picked up the blaster again.
 
:: HERO of KORRIBAN ::
Xander had not been paying attention to the other Sith which were nearing his location. For his own part his journey there had been on his own, and he was certain to leave alone. The Anx seemed to flee below ground at the ferocity of the massacre coming from the armies of the Sith. Xander wasn't sure why there was such a culling, but his anger made him forget the Sith he was. Calculation and patience usually reigned in his soul, but today he was letting his anger reign.

He stopped to breathe as the enemy ran before him. His eyes watched them, watched where they were going. They retreated to their home below, undoubtedly to regroup. This was when he felt someone run into him, and heard the voice call out to her about being on her comm device.

Blue eyes flashed red as he turned to look at the girl which had collided with him.

"Keep your senses about you woman. You can't dispatch the enemy when other things have your focus..."

There was no introduction or attempt to even make it. Xander simply headed toward the underground refuge of the Anx.

"They are gathering under ground... we must stop them before they can regroup."

[member="Darth Venefica"] [member="Harley"]
 
[member="Darth Vizios"] [member="Darth Venefica"]

As she ran into sith who was seemingly contemplating something, another sith woman spoke. She asked why she was more preoccupied with a phone call, rather than watching where she was going. She smiled Oh one of my friends, wants to see death and destruction, I thought why not. She was grinning from ear to ear, as it was the best thing in the world. As killing and butchering things made her happy, and the fact the chiss woman [member="Isabella Fonti"], was happy to talk about that stuff made even happier. Harley had few pleasures, as for one she was @Darth caranfix minion, and that was thankless task. This was especially so on a thursday, as wednesday was curry night, where he invited all his relatives, and freinds and people of influences round. This lead to major plumbing problems on thursday, as the pipe work was under extra strain the day after. Also it was her job to sort the mess out, that meant keeping an eye on the plumbers, and they jet washes to power it all out, which stank to high heavens.

He did not seem disturbed by it, and simply order her to get in the caves and get on with the killing. She just giggled at his responses, and then started to skip towards the caves. The phone was still in her hand, as she began to move in.
 
"15...14...13"

A voice over an intercom could be heard throughout the bay of a small shuttle in which Ardana stood, eagerly awaiting the arrival to the Anx stronghold. She had been sent by Darth Ophidia in order to aid the slaughter of the race as well as ensure the retrieval of the two missing Sith, in one form or another. And so, she would stand gripping a bar over her head as two soldiers waited behind her. She wore no robe, and relied on no other weapons save for a single sabrestaff. Her eyes narrowed as she sensed the fear in the troopers, clearly wondering whether they would survive the battle.

"Why send me with two clunking wastes of space as reinforcements" she would tell herself. No matter. Mere annoyances would not stop her from completing the mission, or any pitiful Anx warrior as well.

As the doors opened before her, Ardana would jump to the ground, placing her fist in front of her face on the surface below. However, as her head turned, she noticed the battlegrounds had grown quiet. In fact, not much could be heard except for the occasional Sith trooper carrying their fallen comrade to a medical station nearby. Clearly the fight had moved on towards the tunnels, as stated in one of the Sith Lord's comms.

Continuing towards the enemy, Ardana found herself stopped by a squealing disturbance nearby.

"P...please...stop."

A fallen Anx soldier lying across the ground, barely speaking through his injuries, could be seen. She stood silent, her soldiers behind her, merely observing the being. She found herself almost pitying the so called warrior for its failures. She would open her mouth to merely utter her observations.

"Such weakness..."

It continued its begging. "Please..."

Staring into the eyes of the Anx, Ardana might have even spared the disgusting little creature, were it not for the reminder of her own weakness. Seeing the being in its failed state, she was brought back to times where her own weakness brought nothing but utter pain and misery. Surges of pain and anger filled her body. The Anx soldier's eyes would open just once more, with fear encompassing, before a flash of red accompanied by a shout would take its life.

Placing the sabrestaff back into her belt, Ardana looked towards the body for mere seconds, relishing in her decision. "The weak have no place here." She would motion to her troopers before continuing into the tunnels to meet with the rest of her allies.
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbb-5Bv_s-w


To stare into the depths of the Force through a sight beyond the physical was a unique experience for the Iridonian and always would be. To not just see the threads of fate and destiny, but to pluck at them and experience them leisure while also being pulled and pushed by the waves of the Force was a unique oxymoronic experience, one that made sense when experience but would fall apart once one might seek to try and pin the rules of nature and physics to the Force. For, in such a state, it was not just sight that you were granted to the past, present and numerous futures. Sight was granted alongside hearing, taste and even senses beyond the physical; the ability to feel emotion, to feel the very stands twist and form even as you stood in that moment always granted a feeling somewhere euphoria and crushing despondency.

Of course, such thoughts did not cross across the mind of the Iridonian as he turned his soul away from its physical shell and dove deeper and deeper into the waves of the Force, seeking what was unknown. And, so, he saw. He saw death and pain and suffering as the rolling tide of a fiery anger descended upon those that tasted of the ground. He watched as Nath's Presence hung heavily across the planet that, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that his physical shell hung above, skeletal fingers reaching out to claim the souls of the deceased and drag them into the unknown oblivion that was the afterlife.

He felt every rolling emotion, tasted fear and euphoria in equal measure. But, none of it affected him, none of it served to deter the shadow-clad mind from what it sought as it twisted deeper and deeper into the present and future both in pursuit of knowledge; hidden beneath a thin cloak of nothingness and yet everything so that it was undetectable when compared to the Force.

He saw the creatures of prey burrow back into their tunnels, fear driving them in an instinct to claim a superior ground so that they may obey the instinct of all living things: survival. And, as such, he delved in with them, seeing the physical and the ethereal, present in future, in an overlapping view that was impossibly distinguishable from each other. He saw them burrow and, yet, saw them cut down. But, such matters were of little consequence so he sort what was hidden, occluded from his sight, the forbidden and the hidden in equal measure.

However, he was Oblivion and Shadow, not flesh and blood and so, he proclaimed in a silent shout audible only as it mixed with the silence of his mind, he would seek what should not be sought, know what should not be known. He would know and so he knew.

And know he did. He saw a black mass writhe and twist in on itself. He felt it conform around the physical self that was not he. He smelt its acrid scent, felt it burn at his nose that did not exist, as the pungent fumes coiled around him. Heat and pain, the sound​ of bubbles popping and air desperate seeking to escape. He saw/felt/smelt/heard it all. But he knew that such a thing was not true, could feel the threads of fate only just beginning to settle, making it a possibility and not a Truth. And, yet, as he fought and drowned without drowning in the heated, bubbling, writhing tar, he could see nothing else, could experience nothing else even as he sought that which was True and Now.

It filled his throat, eyes, ears. That heated, black mass of tar that seared at scarred skin his and yet not his. He felt himself drown and float in equal measure and, then: nothing. Gone was the tar that stung at him but he remained within the Force. Seeing, now, that which was True and yet not yet Now, that which had been determined by was yet to come to pass: the near Now. But, he could not see, not truly. For something, something he could not identify, blocked his senses and so he saw through feeling instead of sight and what he saw burnt at his mind. Tar, bubbling, writhing. The agonised whispers of heat coiled around the near Now, reaching up and engulfing him.
 
She felt the slaughter of the last two life forces ahead of them. It wasn't subtle. It wasn't kind. But then, for what the two surviving sith had likely been through, there was no assumption they would offer anything resembling kindness. She also felt something else- a flicker, like a bubble rising only to pop in thick ichor a heartbeat later. And then it was gone. It had happened too fast to grasp, and she frowned behind the mask.

Both [member="Atlas Kane"] and [member="Tsisaar Taral"] , if they looked closely enough, would find an odd stone on the bodies of the Anx they had slaughtered. In the darkness, black, but it gleamed from within a barest trace of crimson that would flicker and then die, leaving the surface sleek and quiet once again. They let off the faintest glimmer of the Dark Side, but that was all. A curiosity only.

Perhaps.

Flanked by [member="Luca Thorne"], the masked Sith paused in the tunnel.

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They didn't know her, nor did she know them, had no particular investment. And yet she'd come into the dark, to find them. Why?

Because they were Sith.

cdkYuF7.png


She did not ask if either were injured, if they had the strength to continue. It wasn't clear whether she simply didn't care or if she had faith that they could walk out of there on their own feet. The later, in truth, but indifference was the coin her words traded in, and she made no apologies for it.
 
Tsisaar wordlessly nodded at Atlas's command to be efficient, quietly following behind him; once they reached the branching path, he hugged the left-side wall, his comrade opposite him. He'd already turned the electrostaff off to avoid letting its characteristic sound or light give his position away, the weapon hanging limply in his hands. As he approached he scanned the area ahead of him to try and catch a glimpse of what the Anx were trying to peer at through the darkness, catching sight - and scent - of the dead bodies. He didn't have much time to contemplate his confusion before receiving another signal from Atlas, which was met with a short nod from Tsisaar.

Tsisaar lunged forwards, bringing his deactivated electrostaff over the crest of the Anx closest to him and then yanking it backwards by the neck. The large reptile tried for a few moments to buck Tsisaar off for a few seconds, nearly successfully, before he managed to hook his staff under its prominent chin. A short snap later as Tsisaar quickly twisted the staff, and the Anx was lying dead on the ground, its neck broken.

The acolyte didn't receive a moment of rest, however, before seeing the corpses of the other two Anx that had been in the room, killed far faster than he and Atlas might have been able to do so; his momentary fear was quickly replaced with cautious relief at the sight of Darth Caecus striding in towards the pair. "Good to know," Tsisaar thanked her for her news, giving her a short bow of the head. "Is there anything that still needs done down here?" While waiting for an answer he looked down at a few of the corpses, noticing the stones that lay upon them; with a quick gesture he called one of the stones to his hand, placing it in his pocket to study later.
 
Objective: (Laminanium mission: Write through the eyes of an NPC) If a droid kills a gentlebeing, is it murder, or a tragic accident?
Location: Gravlex Med – Old mountain complex.

Twelve life forms, ten, nine, eight, seven, nine, seven, six.

The pilot droid systematically plucked out what he could find with the cold efficiency of a calculator. One or two shots at a time. Their lives were a simple game of numbers; their deaths not worth recording. He was not a very efficient killer – It was not his primary function. But these halls were poorly defended, the Anx were not fighters, just desperate for a place to hide from whatever.

There were clear marks from fires and explosives here and there. One of the side-rooms was downright collapsed. He did not know why, nor did he really care.

Ten life forms. Darling turned, seeing Nethil come running down the corridor he had cleared. She turned and swiped up with her orange light, dispatching one then carrying the motion on to another: Seven lifeforms

Droid! Who said you could wander off?!

Darling looked down at the ex-threat at his feet, then at the blue mistress. What did she think he was doing? He was securing the area. He was about to speak when the Chiss dispatched his words with a wave. Some would feel exasperated, Darling was not programmed to care.

Droids follow orders.

That. How.

Nethil pointed to the door behind Darling, the one he was just about to enter before she came running after him. She had another strange look on her face, not unlike the one the Master made when they were fighting in the void. Whatever it meant. Darling shrugged and followed Nethil as she walked through. Inside, there were four more of the seven remaining life-forms. However, the chiss seemed entranced by something else: Perhaps the rack of inactive droids at the back, but what did he know?

You, trespasser! You have violated our sanctum and slain our kin. Why!? What did we ever do to you!?

Darling looked at Nethil, then the Anx, then back at Nethil, down at his blaster, then at the Anx again.
 
The message sent by [member="Vaylin"] was clear and so Kaalia would push out through the Force to sense what was going on in every tunnel. The one on the right immediately stood out; there was someone, but he was alone. Left behind. Their presence was meek, even more than a normal person not sensitive to the Force. He was wounded.

We can't get all of them at once. We're taking one tunnel for now. The one on the right has a straggler, let's put him out of his misery.
Immediately the woman started to move, her steps deathly silent. With every one she came closer to the one they were stalking and it quickly became clear that he wasn't moving. Perhaps his wounds prevented him from doing so, but that made no difference to Kaalia. As she approached she felt the man's dread, giving away that he knew something was coming. He had been left behind and was defenseless, and now he would meet his end.

The Anx tried to yell, but that attempt was quickly dashed. The Sith Lady called out to the Force once more, her irises corrupt with the Dark side as she drew upon its power. Coiling her left hand the man's windpipe was being queezed shut, allowing no air to be drawn. With haunting eyes directly locking with the Anx' she slowly walked up to him, the man's leg badly wounded from the battle and rendered unable to stand let alone walk, and when she had closed the distance between the two. As his life slowly escaped him he whispered something with his last breath, after which his soul returned to the Force. "From beneath you, it devours." Not entirely sure what it meant, Kaalia was immediately much more careful. It was likely there was more to this place than met the eye.

Watch your step. If anything is here, we will encounter it in time. Be prepared.
 
The Admiralty
Luckily it wasn't his job to do the talking.

As Caecus went to exchange words with the two Sith, he himself focused on their surroundings.

A couple of more of the sentients dead and in the distance Thorne could hear the sound of the approaching Sith horde. They had all come in force to do two things: exact vengeance and rescue the two Sith, if possible. Not because out of any sentiment. But because when those beneath the Sith thought they could act with impunity against them?

That would have repercussions for every single dealing they made.

If no consequences were attached to stepping out of line? Then they would not be an Empire to be feared, this much Lord Fa said to Caecus when this all started out.

"They all seem to have fled down, my Lord." Thorne said after his scanning equipment wasn't capable of locating any more life-signs around them, other than the Sith behind and them here. "They may have set up traps deeper and may be baiting us into committing our forces to a suicide run. My advice is to retreat for now and evaluate the situation."

It had been surprising to him the first time when Caecus had wanted his opinion on their mission.

Now he supplied his view when it seemed relevant.

[member="Atlas Kane"] | [member="Tsisaar Taral"] | [member="Darth Caecus"]​
 
Despite the oppressive darkness, the Dark Lord navigated the tunnels as if he had walked through them all his life. The Anx had laid traps for him, prepared ambushes for the lone Sith Lord who had the audacity to chase them back into their burrows. They had been clever traps, he could admit that much about them, but they were insignificant next to the power of the Force that he wielded so easily. They should have run, should have fled far away and avoid him completely, but whatever had driven them to butcher and imprison his messengers had also driven them to fight beyond all reason and die at his hands for nothing.

Behind him lay a smattering of devastated corpses, bodies hewn into several shapes, bones shattered, and gore pasting the walls where his fist had connected with skull or chest. He himself was caked with offal, streaks of crimson staining his armor and robes and dripping down to form crude puddles when he stopped to assess his gloomy surroundings.

He sensed others, friendlies, near his position. It was either the lost Sith or more of the invasion force that, like he, had pushed deeper into the abyss in search of vengeance. As it turned out it was actually both, he rounded the corner with his lightsaber ablaze and found himself face-to-face with [member="Atlas Kane"] and [member="Tsisaar Taral"] mingling with the enigmatic form of [member="Darth Caecus"], whom the Dark Lord knew only from his observation of the Black Library's acquisition and his own personal sluething. It somewhat troubled him that [member="Darth Saarai"] had not found it prudent to inform him of her existence, he would have to talk one-on-one with the Peacock Lord at a later date.

He approached casually, making his presence known well to all in the vicinity like the forceless [member="Luca Thorne"]. He caught the latter portion of Luca's inquiry, and sought to answer it himself. "The Anx hold our people prisoner no longer, they have nothing to shield themselves from the full might of our wrath. And do not mistake me, for I intend to scour this world down to bare rock and let the corpses of these cowardous vermin rot amidst the ruin of their civilization."
 

Atlas Kane

Guest
Step by step Atlas closed in on his prey, then the Khil jumped into the fray, beginning his struggle with one of the Anx, giving him the signal that he needed. The large reptilian in front of him turned its upper body towards the approaching Sith, but was never able to do anything about the knowledge it gained. For when it had turned Atlas had used the Force to quicken his movements momentarily, allowing him to close the distance between the two in a second. Once his foot impacted the ground before the Anx, he channelled the Force to give him exceptional strength. With it, he struck the Anx's throat with a quick jab from his fist to prevent any noise, followed by his other hand that grabbed his face, palm enclosing the frontal part of the Anx' head. The Anx was dead before he knew what had hidden him. With the close proximity to the Anx' brain, Atlas had chosen to conjure a short burst of lightning to fry the Anx' mind, letting it sink to its knees before him.

His movements had been quick, his actions efficient, in stark contrast to his brutal rage just minutes prior. He was ready to go for the next one but was surprised to find the other Anx dead already, in their place a Sith and a soldier, both humanoid and not Anx. He gave them a quick glance and when the Sith spoke he determined they were allies of some form. At that moment too, his eyes were drawn to the corpses. Taking a few steps towards them he knelt down, rummaging through their clothes, inspecting them. Within them, he found what his eyes had spotted moments earlier. A stone, but not just any old regular rock, a small brilliant stone that shone faintly red in his hand. Quickly pocketing it he turned to the Sith after her words were spoken and the question of the Khil answered.

"You did not happen upon a brazen lightsabre, kind strangers? Or perhaps a mask of similar colour?" He asked, turning towards the Sith and the Soldier, still knelt down, arm resting on one knee, head turned to the left to meet the strangers' eyes, or rather their masks.


Moments later another joined them, one who's presence within the Dark Side was palable before Atlas could even lay eyes on him. The Sith strode into view, illuminated by the red of his sabre. His voice echoed through the tunnels just as the soldier's had. Both spoke of the course of action that would follow the rescue of Tsisaar and himself. Atlas could only think of one thing. Their captors were dead, yet their kin still walked these caves. Kin that represented a blight that only one thing could cure. Fire.

"My lord, I know it may not be my place to make tactical recommendations, but may I suggest the use of fire against the remaining creatures? Within these confined spaces there will hardly be any room to escape its all-consuming nature, reducing the Anx to nothing but ash." He said, perfectly calm and with perhaps just a little hint of joy. "Those who resist enslavement, of course." He added a few moments later, correcting the sheer bloodlust that had driven his prior statement.



[member="Luca Thorne"], [member="Darth Caecus"], [member="Tsisaar Taral"], [member="Darth Carnifex"].
 
Harsh breaths greeted Lykos as he emerged from the depths of his vision. Pain, not physical but the sort of pain that is created within the man and felt through the body, wracked him as he collapsed to the ground on all fours. Even with Mind, Soul and Body being one once more, the Iridonian could still feel that tar clinging to his eyes, throat, ears and skin. Burning him, searing him, as the tendrils of heat wormed their way ever deeper into his body. His chest heaved as he panted, harshly trying to draw upon the air he so desperately needed On his face he could feel a cold liquid crawling along his skin before it bowed to the artificial gravity of the ship and dripped to the cold metal beneath his face. Blood. He knew it to be blood even before the scent reached him.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Slowly, the steady sound help the Iridonian begin to focus once more, pushing what he had seen, what he had experience and felt, to the back of his mind. Distancing himself from the unreal pain so as to protect him mind, Lykos pushed himself to his knees, pulling his face out of the steadily growing pool of blood. Bringing one hand up, he wiped harshly at his face before swiping a piece of flimsiplast and a pen from off to one side and quickly beginning to scribble down what he had seen.

Stumbling to his feet, he shouted out within the bond that bound him to his Hand and Apprentice, before waiting for her arrival by leaning against the wall for support. When she did arrive, all he did was silently push the piece of flimsiplast into her hands, bark out rough order for her to send the message to [member="Darth Carnifex"] and [member="Darth Saarai"] - due to their positions as the Dark Lord and head of the Inquistion respectively. However, as soon as she would leave the room, he would seal the door and collapse onto the makeshift bed that was off to one side and passing out.

Whatever he had seen, it had not been natural, that much was for certain. It was something big, something big enough to drain and trap him in the vision and sensations of said vision for a good while before he managed to free himself.



Sorry for such a basic post, wanted to just get this out quickly before I forgot to do so, that, and I wasn't sure what else to write.
Any way, you'll find a summary of the message sent to Darth Carnifex and Darth Saarai:
During the empire conquest upon the planet of Gravlex Med, I happened upon a vision. One that spoke metaphorically of what happened beneath the surface of the planet, but, also a vision that spoke a warning of something to come. A vision of bubbling tar. What to make of this, I know not, but, I thought it best to pass it along to you.

-Darth Lykos, Lord of Oblivion.
 
Objective: (Laminanium mission: Write through the eyes of an NPC) If a droid kills a gentlebeing, is it murder, or a tragic accident?
Location: Gravlex Med – Old mountain complex.

Those. Where did they come from?

Darling saw the blue mistress pointing at the row of droids at the back. She had not bothered answering the knife-face’s question. Had she not heard, perhaps? Social interaction was not in Darling’s code. He looked at his blaster again, and at Nethil. She held her long torch still, though the light of it was inactive.

Answer the question, child!” Another of the Anx spoke, anger in his tone. There was a certain vibration to the air now.

Clearly, the blue mistress did not enjoy having her year-model commented on. The vibration in the air turned rather quickly as a face grew forth on Nethil’s personal interface. Even Darling knew it to be a killing face. He raised his blaster, but felt the ground leave his feet and then rush up to touch the back of his head.

His metal body scrambled back as Nethil ran forward with a roar. Six life forms, five. Darling stood up again and aimed with his blaster, but he could not get any shots in. Instead he jogged further into the room to get another angle. He shot, it missed. Nethil used the moment to cut down his target. He looked at the blaster and dropped it. Clearly it was ineffective at this range. Darling tried to run into melee, but found himself thrown back again.

Nethil’s glowing stick clashed with another, green one. Green lightsticks meant enemies, right? She turned, pushing the blade into another person, then seized the wielder by the face and transferred a shock: Four life forms. Darling got up and barrelled towards the last one. He supposed it was meant to be some sort of a tackle, but it was more like he just ran into the knife-head. He gripped it by the face and made the same motion as if turning the nose of a ship down and up and down and up again. It worked last time. It seemed to work now too, as Darling repeatedly bashed it into the floor.
 
When [member="Atlas Kane"] queried about the saber and the mask, Kith produced them without a word, along with the other personal objects that she suspected belonged to [member="Tsisaar Taral"]. Handing them to him, she stepped back again, just as the presense of [member="Darth Carnifex"] filled the tunnels.

Carnifex.

She had managed to work beneath the radar, by and large. Pledging no loyalty to this Empire or its Dark Lord. It had only been a matter of time before her role could no longer be confined to her friendship with Darth Saarai. The masked figure watched him, impassively both on the surface and within the Force.

She didn't care about the coming storm. About the fact that indeed, no Anx would be enslaved but their tunnels collapsed and burnt. But there was a crossroads here for her now, and they both knew it. The question was only what she would choose.

This fledgling Empire.

Or her anonymity.

With a signal to [member="Luca Thorne"], the five of them, followed by the Dark Lord's Blackguard, made their way back to the surface. The call was put out to withdraw from the tunnels- their men recovered. Time was given for the Sith to pull back, as the Anx burrowed ever deeper into the dark, waiting for further incursion that would never come. They waited in the darkness, something deeper bubbling up that, in this place at least, never see the light of day.

It would need another place, another people. But two pieces traveled up into the light, and ultimately to the stars.

From beneath you

On the Dark Lords flagship, the masked Sith Lord known as Caecus counseled restraint. Not for the sake of the Anx beneath their burrows, but for the life that existed on the surface itself. Whether that was the reason Carnifex ordered only precision bombings, she did not know. Beneath them, tunnels collapsed, sealing off deeper darkness from the surface of the planet. She watched, frowning behind the mask.

There were more answers than questions, in truth now. But they would have to wait.

Darth Caecus had a meeting with the Dark Lord.

It devours.
 
Objective: (Laminanium mission: Write through the eyes of an NPC) What even are those?
Location: Gravlex Med – Old mountain complex: Inner sanctum.

Darling continued until he was sure it wouldn’t move again. Still, there were three life-forms somewhere in this complex. Three dangerous elements. Still, Nethil appeared to stare at the row of metal forms. She had a habit of spacing out when things were reaching extremes. If only organics had the focus of droids. But perhaps that was why they could do so many odd things? He did not know.

Mistress Filiae. May I be of further assistance?

She continued staring at the metal shapes for a whole minute before turning to him, another look in her eyes.

Find one of the residents, bring him to the ship, alive, and prepare for take-off.

Perhaps he ought to be taken aback by the sudden change of pace? It was almost as though some cosmic entity felt the pressure of time and sped up the process. Nah, he was a droid and droids follow orders. Darling marched out of the room, turning right where he had formerly turned left. There were still three life-forms in the structure, Filiae not included. Where would three of these things hide?

Darling strolled down his avenue of dust and decay, lightly sprinkled with footprints to and fro the chambers ahead.

What about… ?

He opened a chamber and strolled in. There was sustenance on a table, prepared but untouched. It told him nothing. However, what did tell him something was the subdued squeak from one of the smaller doors. What were they called? Cupboards? Closets? Cavities? Activities? Didn’t matter.

He threw it open and found himself instantly tackled by a knife-face that bashed its digits at Darling’s head-part. Darling slapped back in the same way. It seemed far more effective for him than for the fleshbag. Two left – One tried to run past him, heading for the door. Darling tackled it and repeatedly jabbed it with his steel hand.

Wasn’t he supposed to take one alive?

There was one more life form. He walked over to the tiny room inside the room and looked down at the one left sitting there. It was another small one, holding an even smaller one – inorganic – in its arms. This one would be more efficient to transport. Darling picked it up under his arm and wandered back out.

He came as far as the frozen corridor, but when he tried to open the door, it was unresponsive.

Nuts and Bolts.
 
Objective: (Laminanium mission: Write through the eyes of an NPC) Get out.
Location: Gravlex Med – Old mountain complex: Inner sanctum - Escaping Gravlex Med.

While Darling stared at the door, his programming working hard to work out a way through it, there was a scream of metal throughout the complex. It was not a quiver or a shudder that shook the very structure of it, but a shiver spawned from the scraping of metal upon metal. The fleshy being under Darling’s arm squirmed, forcing him to tighten his grip. He believed it was uncomfortable, but the mission came first and the mission required that the little fleshbag stayed put.

He searched the door for an access port, but the one he found had been shot. It was strange how shooting the control panel sometimes opened the door and sometimes shut it. How did the blue mistress open it earlier? Darling stared at the door and mimicked the motion she had used to get it open.

It did not open.

He tried again. It did not work. He reached for his blaster, then remembered he left it in the inner chamber. It was rare for him to have reactions easily interpreted as frustration, but he punted the burnt-out door controls. To his mild astonishment, the door opened. And as the metal sheet raised itself.

WOOSH!

Gale-winds carried vast drifts of snow into the corridor, almost knocking Darling off his feet. He had to take a step back, but leaned into the wind before starting to wade into the white. The little one under his arm dipped in and out of the snow, and shivered profusely. However, the path to the ship was not long. He climbed on board and put the little one in a seat before prepping the ship. Darling could barely see the entrance from there, but he was sure miss Filiae would find her way out. After all, she was fire-eyed like the Master.

Minutes passed, five, ten, fifteen, and close to the twenty-minute mark after Darling had the ship in order, he saw a figure emerging from the mountain. It was hunched, dragging something behind it. Opening the hangar, he heard the footfalls of Darling and the scraping of metal as she dragged the droids form the inner chamber behind her, strung together with a cord. Once they were all on board – Piled up in a corridor – She collapsed into the co-pilot chair and sighed, her eyes trailed over to the Anx child curled up in a corner of the bridge.

Darling closed all ports and took off. It was challenging to take off in such snowfall, but nothing he couldn’t handle. As they escaped orbit, Darling saw Nethil lean forward in her seat, looking at the gathering fleet positioning itself.

Darling, take us to the Erudita. We will need to interview our guest and inspect my trophies.

Yes, Mistress Filiae.

He was glad to be back on the ship. Darling would really like a new oil bath.
 

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