Grudges

[Revenchent]

The pistol clattered along the marble floor. Its owner was forced to the floor, his arms twisted in an unnatural angle, and blood spilling freely from a broken nose. His handsome visage would never again charm young women into his chambers. The man cursed and snarled at his captor, but Tarith would have none of it. He pressed the barrel of the shattergun close to the man's chest, the threat of death easing his struggling.

"Where is it?" The hunter hissed. The Zabrak grinned through bloodied teeth. "Long gone now. Kaelin took it. She's the one you'll want to find, not me."

Despite the obvious pain he was going through, the Zabrak was laugh. Tarith's brow furrowed as he pressed the barrel a little deeper into his target's chest. "Don't you lie to me." Tarith snarled, "I don't have time for games. Speak up."

The Zabrak just kept on chuckling. "Oh, quit with the theatrics! Your order is dead, boy. There's no one left to prove yourself to. Now get off of me, or I'll have my guards put a hole through your pretty little head."

Cursing, Tarith punched the Zabrak in his shattered nose. The pain was instant, but the crack of bone on marble was all too satisfying. The Zabrak was still alive, but consciousness had long since left him. Satisfied, Tarith rose and began going through the man's drawers. He found a number of paper notes, which he pocketed, and the man's personal datapad, of which he looked over.

"Huh," he frowned, "You weren't lying. Clever di'kut."

He read over the destination, and grimaced. This was turning out to be a wild bantha chase. Shaking his head, Tarith shoved the datapad into his belt, and made ready to exit via the balcony. It was only then that he took note of the cowering woman on the bed.

"You should go before the guards realize he's out," he said, "Won't be too safe here much longer."

As if the Ocean had been listening, [member="Astrid"] came barreling through the doors. All Tarith saw was a mass of black and blue hair as she tumbled inside. A significant number of guards followed close behind her.

"Ah, shab," Tarith cursed, leveling his shattergun. The threat enough was to make the men pause, and by then he'd slammed the doors closed. They wouldn't hold long once the men started pushing, but you couldn't shoot through them.

"You know the smart thing would have been to leave once I left you to the guards?" Tarith grumbled, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "They're all going to be coming soon. Congratulations, you've ruined things spectacularly. Do you want a medal, or will simple words of praise do?"

 

[Tyris Hayes]

Tyris had been working as head of security for a rather rich Zabrak on Naboo. The benefits were good and so was the pay. Tyris liked it at first, but he started to hate it after awhile. He would sit in a room all night, occasionally come out when someone broke on, and then the boss would let them go out of common courtesy. It was as boring as sitting at a table all night until someone showed up if they did at all. Quite luckily Tyris had a way out that would also set him for life. The boss was so nice, he put in a little clause in the contract that if the boss were to die, Tyris would continue to collect a salary for the rest of his life. Tyris hatched a plan with a few of his compatriots to murder the boss and make it look like an accident. They planned to do it during the festival, perfect cover, everyone was celebrating, and before he knew it, the entire security team was in on it. Sadly some poor sobs seemed to have beat them to it.

Two idiots came barreling through the house in the most conspicuous way they possibly could, but at least this gave them deniability. Tyris hobbled along towards the bedroom where they were. He came with two guards, a human and a trandoshan. The men were trained like zenithians under Tyris, while not well equipped, and not very effective, they were at least disciplined enough to move out of the way when he came down the hall. One of the men with tyris handed a battering ram over to the guys up front, and they bashed down the door with minimal trouble. There were about 10 guys in the hall, but only Tyris and his entourage moved in. They were ordered to hold their fire for now. Tyris saw that the boss was incapacitated not dead. Tyris quickly drew his sidearm to rectify the situation and quickly put a bolt into the head of the Zabrak and his lady friend. He did this without flinching or delay. He then holstered his gun.

"Under any other circumstances, I would probably put a bolt into both of you karking laserbrains. You are quite lucky that our goals appear to be aligned in this situation." Tyris said.

Tyris hobbled over to the two.

"You probably think that you are stealth master extraordinaire." He said to the hooded one "Well let me tell you, I noticed you the second you set foot on the lawn, I was watching the entire time."

"And you." He said looking to the one with the blue and black hair. "You weren't even trying, were you? You came into the yard, and then once you got seen you immediately started barreling towards the bedroom. I'm not sure if your stupid or if you just have a deathwish."

"You two are pretty lucky we were planning on killing him anyway, you just gave us deniability. That is why we aren't going to kill you. Now you are obviously here for something, and i think it is fair i help you in at least some way to acquire whatever you wanted from the old man, a sort of repayment for your, probably unintentional assistance here."

[member="Tarith"]
[member="Astrid"]

 

[Saran Drast]

She was quiet. It wasn't her role to act like the warrior. Not this mission. She had work to do. Still and silent, she simply lay there. The woman was hunting down a connection to a certain group of Sith. Through any means necessary.

That last phrase was what was made her hate herself right now.

She lay completely still, sinking into the comfort of the bed. The man sat in a chair, waiting for someone. She wasn't sure who. Quietly focusing on keeping her force signature down, she listened, nearly blind at this point. She could see the room, and little more. Face down on the pillow, she simply listened as the noble began to talk to what she assumed was an unwanted visitor. And then the gun went off.

She flinched. Her hands flew to shield herself, but no blast came. Sitting up quietly, she looked blankly at the pair for a moment before pulling back to the wall, cowering as best she could. She had nothing, no equipment, no armor, nothing. She simply hid her face in her knees and shivered. It was cold, after all. She didn't even move until the blaster bolt from that security officer. She raised her hand, the cowering demeanor vanishing in an instant. She felt the warmth flow into her as she absorbed the energy, then slowly, carefully, moved to sit on the edge of the bed, listening to the man speak as she started focusing on gathering her things. As he finished talking, she smiled. "You done?" She said, quietly, before sending a wave of force energy out. Not enough to do anything, mind you, just enough for him to realize what she was.

Enough to show what he had just tried to kill.

[member="Astrid"] [member="Tarith"] [member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Astrid]

She was no stranger to violence or verbal conflict, but the words that fell from beneath the cowl infuriated her. "And, they were dealt with, no thanks to you. Do you always make women clean up your messes?" Astrid shot back, fighting the urge to either hit him or kick him where no light could penetrate. She had risen quickly, thrusting a chair against the door to help reinforce it against the horde of guards on the other side.

"I'll have you know, you ruined it yourself by making an attempt at jumping him," she gestured towards the unconscious man on the floor. "At a festival!"

Astrid looked as if there were more she wanted to sling at him, but the battering ram putting an end to their safety made the words die before they could pass her lips. The man that entered did so with the assistance of a cane. Had circumstances been different, and she wasn't on the receiving end of the weapon he had leveled at them, she would have used his handicap to her advantage. There was still time for that, however.

Without a word, she watched as he shot and killed the target, and then the consort he had brought him with him. Or, rather tried. She watched the woman, in awe as she moved to the edge of the bed. Her lips parted, closed, and then opened again. She tried to speak, but words didn't seem to form correctly.

Instead, she shook her head and turned her focus back to the old man.

With her hands raised, she snorted. "It wasn't exactly the 'moment I got seen', really. I think your recollection of events is as poor as your ability to run a marathon, old man," Astrid taunted.

"Anyway, I think we're all, all," she paused, bending one wrist to create a circular motion with one finger. "ALL accessories in this. It doesn't matter who did what, when they did it, or how they did it. What matters is we're all witnesses and, well. I'm sure you all can imagine where this goes from here. So, before we all start making a mad dash to get the upper hand, allow me to suggest we all forget this ever happened and make our own ways out of this. I would rather not die today, thank you all very much."



[member="Saran Drast"]
[member="Tyris Hayes"]
[member="Tarith"]

 

[Revenchent]

The man had been shot. Truthfully, Tarith had expected guns to be fired, he'd just thought they would be aiming toward him, rather than the Zabrak. He stared at the warm body with quiet curiosity. The hunter had little intention of killing the man - it wasn't his place to decide who deserved to live or otherwise - but to see his mercy undone was a bit disheartening. Utterly annoyed, he turned his attentions upon the guard.

"I really don't need to answer to you," he snapped, making sure everything on his coat was where it needed to be. Satisfied that no parchment or datapad was misplaced, he turned upon the woman who had decided he was the entertainment for the evening. His lip curled. "Usually, yes," he answered simply with a roll of his eyes.

Having no desire to remain any longer, he turned to make his leave via the balcony. That was, of course, until he felt a shift in the Great Ocean's currents. His gaze immediately fell upon the Zabrak's concubine, and his shattergun came up to bear. He would not be the victim of some Sith-Schutta.

"He's done," he began, "But I'm not." Frowning, Tarith whirled upon the shaggy-haired guard. His voice was a commanding one; one that broached no disagreement.

"Where is his hanger? Quickly, before the authorities arrive."

He could not afford to stay on the planet with this many witnesses, the least of which being a force sensitive. No, it was time to get out of dodge, and quickly too. He had a lead - that was all that mattered now.

[member="Astrid"], [member="Saran Drast"], [member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Tyris Hayes]

Tyris felt the unexplainable force coming from the woman on the bed. She was some sort of force user, good or bad, he did not want to cross one. Tyris made a simple motion, and the men in the hallway flooded into the room, guns drawn. Tyris drew his weapon too, and pointed them at the man who is pointing a shattergun at the force user.

The men were disciplined, in this case, that was all that mattered, they knew how to follow orders to the letter, if he said line up, they lined up. If he said fire, they fired. If he said the sky is green and the ground is blue, they replied in kind. His men had the discipline of Zenithians, and he was proud of that. Now they were being put to the test.

"I would recommend you hold your fire, i have 11 blasters pointed straight at you, if you even so much as scratch that woman they will not hesitate to fire upon you. So drop your weapon. Now. "

He hoped that this was the right decision.

[member=tarith] [member=astrid] [member="Saran Drast"]

 

[Saran Drast]

"You new force users think you're the greatest thing since the Celestials." A sigh escaped her lips, and she drew the force inwards. "Are you sure that trying to kill me is the best idea?" Her hands rose, slowly, above her head, as she began to draw in force energy. The energy began to build in her muscles, and the small frown on her face grew. "You want to know who I am?" She picked up a shirt, pulling it over herself before returning her hands to reaching for the heavens. "My name is Saran Drast. I'm a Jedi Knight looking into a possible connection between this noble and the Sith."

Looking down at the corpse, she gave a small chuckle. "Although I guess that that's kind of beyond possible now." She stopped the rush of energy to her, and in a blink, dashed forward, pushing the barrel of the gun down towards the floor with the force as she did. With any luck, she could disarm him before he fired.


[member="Astrid"] [member="Tarith"] [member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Astrid]

"Oh, geez," Astrid groaned, looking from one person to the next, trying to ignore the guards with guns. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and she didn't quite enjoy it. Her mind was racing, contemplating different options on how to get out of the situation she found herself in. All signs seemed to point to conflict, and considering the amount of fire power one side had, it was feeling rather one sided. However, the woman was apparently a Jedi. A Jedi! What did the mystery man have against Jedi? Although, he did seem to have the right idea... If you skipped ahead and jumped to the escape part.

"How about we not kill each other, guys," Astrid suggested, keeping her hands lifted. About to say more, she paused.

Had not the woman given her a piece of the puzzle? A force user would explain why some of the actions he had taken were possible, or easier at least. A brow rose as she turned to bodily face Tarith and moved in the path of his gun.

"Hey, hey. Whoa now. How about you and I just, you know. Leave. You got what you came for, right? Ignore her, she's a Jedi. He's a guy with a lot guns. You're not going to win, so don't be stupid and try to die. Besides, I've got a bone to pick with you and I'd personally rather not like to die."

[member="Saran Drast"]
[member="Tyris Hayes"]
[member="Tarith"]

 

[Revenchent]

The likelihood of their claims was minuet. There weren't very many Jedi left in the galaxy at all, let alone in this part of the rim. His father had kept good track of places they gathered, and Tarith had spent many evenings studying the notes his predecessor left behind. Whether she was of a more despicable creed did not matter now, however. He valued his own life far too much to spend it on a random stranger who might not even be guilty of the perceived crime.

With a grimace, Tarith slowly lowered his shattergun. He stuffed it away into his great coat, and turned upon the gathering of men. "Look, she's not dead! Maybe she'll give you the same treatment she gave your boss out of gratitude?" He asked pointedly, reaching up to pull his cowl a little farther over his features. When [member="Astrid"] spoke, he whirled on her.

"I don't think we have all that much to talk about myself. I've got what I want, and it looks like the monotony of the evening has worn off for you," he said as he began to walk toward the doors. "I'm sure she's far more exciting than anything I could provide." He gestured toward [member="Saran Drast"].

One of the guards pointed a rifle at him as he drew close. Tarith simply reached out, grabbed the weapon's barrel, and pointed it to the floor. "No, no, no. You don't want to do that. It's the wrong thing to do, remember? I would haunt you." He barked a quiet laugh, and strode on past the gathering toward the hanger.

It was then that a loud voice boomed over the loudspeaker. It said for those inside to lay down their weapons, and come outside. To accentuate that point, a number of armored speeders with RSF colors lowered down into the garden outside the building. Men filed out in military uniforms - the Royal Security Force had been called in. Someone had taken note of the violence.

Tarith had stopped while all this happened, staring out a window as one of the speeders landed just outside it. He distinctly recalled seeing that there was only one starship in the hanger, and the launch codes were listed on the datapad he had stolen.

He looked over his shoulder at those in the chamber. A force sensitive woman that seemed to be enjoying her powers a little too much. An old, trigger-happy cripple. A girl who seemed to know far too much than she needed to, and had a talent for being insufferable. Then there were all the goons. All in all, none of them were really guilty here, save for the now-dead Zabrak. Well, except for old man - Tarith hadn't killed a soul here after all.

He had a mission. A duty. He could not allow himself to be captured. Part of him knew he could help these people as well, but then they would ask questions, or take advantage of his kindness. They would probably fare well on their own. The RSF would let them all go, save for angry old-man. It wasn't that terrible of him to leave them to their fate.

Tarith paused to consider this.

After a moment's thinking, he broke into a dead sprint toward the hanger bay. "Good luck!" He called over his shoulder. They'd probably be fine. Maybe.

[member="Astrid"], [member="Saran Drast"], [member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Tyris Hayes]

Tyris and the men exchanged looks as the entire situation played out, it seemed as if nobody really wanted this to escalate more than it had to, but it was still tense. Then at almost the worst time possible, the RSF showed up outside. This was the worst possible timing. They had the building surrounded, and quite soon they would break into the building and arrest them all. This was not a good situation, and all of them in here were guilty in some respect. The kid and his +1 could be charged with breaking and entering, and not to mention aggravated assault, attempted murder etc. etc. Tyris and his team were guilty of murder, and conspiracy to commit murder. The only innocent person in the room was the jedi, as far as he knew atleast.

Then quite suddenly, the kid started bolting out of the room. Tyris muttered under his breath "Karking kids these days..." As the kid left the room. Tyris then turned to the gathered group, consisting of the kids +1, the jedi, and Tyris' men.

"Our only way out is the ship in the hangar. That arrogant kid just started running straight for it. I would reccomend everyone in here start making their way there. Unless you want to get arrested, of course." Tyris said, making his way towards the hangar, his men following in kind.

[member="Tarith"]
[member="Astrid"]
[member="Saran Drast"]

 

[Saran Drast]

This kid was a brat, that was for sure. He was so full of his own self-importance, he didn't recognize any sort of threat. Or that he was being an idiot. Sighing, she moved back to the bed, continuing to get dressed as she did. "Your dad never teach you to respect others, kid?" She muttered under her breath, pulling a small cylinder out of the pocket of her coat. The comfortable feel of the weapon caused her to seemingly visibly relax. As she did, she heard the sound of something outside. People were moving. The woman froze, moments before the callout by the RSF came out. Throwing her sight out, she counted twenty different people outside. If she needed, she could fend them off. But there wasn't any need to. She'd be fine. She was a witness to this, nothing more.

Then the little piece of Sithspit ran out to the hallway. Only really one logical place for him to run to. Turning to the captain, she barked: "Shut down the Hanger, if you can." Without waiting for a response, she began a dash to catch, or, failing all else, keep up with, the kid.


[member="Astrid"] [member="Tarith"] [member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Astrid]

There was one thing for certain, Astrid wanted nothing to do with the RSF. She'd much rather cut off a finger than deal with them, particularly at that very moment in time. With every man following after mystery man, the most logical thing she could deduce was to stick with the pack. There numbers, for the moment, would provide safety and her own conclusions had pointed, partly in fact by Tarith's own question previous, that there was only one assured escape plan. Others could be devised, but time was of the essence and there was no guarantee that success would be found either way.

There was no time for words.

Without no interest in being left behind, Astrid's boots pounded over the flooring as she threw herself out of the room and after the dead noble's false consort. If anyone would be able to track down the cowl, it'd be her. There was little to no reason to not trust in the woman, as far as Astrid was concerned. She shove through the cripple's guardsmen and by him without so much as a care to give. What mattered was keeping up with Saran and Tarith. That, at least, she knew she could. Unless they pulled out some form of force trickery. Naturally, that would put her at a disadvantage. If it came to that, she knew she'd have to adapt.

 

[Revenchent]

Some of them followed, but Tarith couldn't bring himself to pay any of them too much attention. He had places to be, and more importantly, security personnel to avoid. He drew his shattergun close, and thundered down the halls, any pretense of stealth lost to the panic. He passed no one as he made his way toward the hanger. Everyone within had ether surrendered to the RSF, or been involved in the Zabrak's murder. It was a boon for Tarith - there was no one around to slow him down.

He was vaguely aware of [member="Astrid"] following behind him. He recognized the sound of her boots hitting the floor. Others came behind her; likely the traitor-guards, he thought. He would be sure to have the ship in the air by the time they made it to the hanger. It wouldn't do to keep a group of treasonous murderers with him as he made his escape. Part of him laughed at the thought. He had, after all, broken into the estate, violently assaulted its owner. Sure, he hadn't killed the man, but were his actions truly any more justifiable then the guards? Yes, he decided. The violence he committed was for a good cause. Theirs, well, he had no idea.

He whirled around another corner and found himself in the ship hanger. It was a large room, as was to be expected, and circular in nature. The exit was a large cut in the perfect circle at the room's zenith. A single shuttle sat in the center of the room. It was long and extravagant, and covered in a pale white paint that would likely hurt the eyes in sunlight. Tarith did not know what kind of vessel it was, but he couldn't truly bring himself to care.

He punched the access code into the aft end of the vessel, and the gangplank hissed open. In his hurry, he did not think to close it behind him. He charged through the vessel, knocking over inert droids and furniture as he made his way to the cockpit. The control panel was foreign, but he felt he had a good idea of where everything was. After a few moment's scrambling, he managed to get the engines started. They hummed with power as they began to warm.

"I hope you all tell convincing stories," he murmured as he looked through the view-port at the hanger's door. It wasn't any of his business what befell them after this. He guessed the girls would be fine, and the guards would be arrested. More importantly, he would be off on the other side of the system.

The engines grew louder, and the repulsors prepared for lift-off.

[member="Saran Drast"], [member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Tyris Hayes]

Tyris and his men made it towards the hangar, by the time they got there the RSF had broken into the house, and had begun to give chase. The Jedi probably beat the guard team there, but that was none the matter. The guards were almost to the hangar when the RSF caught up, and a gunfight quickly broke out, and two of the guards were dropped almost immediately. The guards retreated into the hangar and the RSF gave chase. Once inside they started to thor down any furniture they could to give cover.

The RSF came through the entrance and the gunfight started a new, Tyris fired a few shots downrange hoping to prevent them from getting too close. The blaster fire made the entire room look like a rave. More guards dropped, but some RSF dropped with them. Soon there were only a few guards left.

The guards looked at each other, they would all lay down their lives for each other. The guards looked at each other, then at Tyris, the guard with the most seniority spoke for them. "You go Tyris, we will hold them off, do not let this be in vain." Tyris nodded to them and hobbled onto the shuttle. Tyris knew he was an unwelcome visitor to the kid, he would have to play his cards right, hopefully, the jedi and the other girl were able to get on before he was. Tyris knew he was probably the last one on.

Tyris just sat down on one of the bunks, not announcing his presence.

[member="Tarith"]
[member="Astrid"]
[member="Saran Drast"]

 

[Saran Drast]

Running through the halls, Saran let out a curse. She had left her other saber across town. She could probably make it through the legal system unscathed, except that she hadn't registered her arrival. It wasn't worth the red tape and sentence for an old saber she wasn't even attached to. Still, she wasn't happy about losing it. Shaking her head, she redoubled her efforts, tearing through hall until she rounded one last corner, the ship in front of her. A sigh escaped her lips as she moved up the open ramp, her speed slowed now that she was onboard. She walked with a measured pace, noting the thrown aside items and droid. A straight path to the cockpit. Hmm. "You realize you'll need a bit to warm up the engine, right?" She called, sitting in the nearest chair. "May as well wait for the others."

[member="Astrid"] [member="Tarith"] [member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Astrid]

The leather-bound woman pushed her muscles to the limit, the echoing thump of her boots announcing her desperate attempt to not get left behind. She managed to keep up with the raven-haired Jedi somehow, and she could only assume she managed to do so simply in part to the woman's generosity. There should be no problem for one of her stature to leave Astrid behind. Even at the peak of her physical health, she was felt her lungs and muscles ache and burn. Her speed began to falter, but was renewed when the hanger was entered and freedom was just within her sight.

Astrid threw herself into the ship, entering into it's confines at full speed. She threw her weight, skidding herself to a halt. A miscalculation of her momentum sent her crashing against one wall, her shoulder taking the brunt of the hit. Struggling to regain her breath, the force of impact having knocked the wind from her, she doubled forward and planted her palms to her knees. When she was not immediately able to succeed, she drew down the veil and gasped in large gulps of air.

With her hands shaking, she righted herself so that she could turn and press her back against the wall, ignoring the small dent from where her shoulder had collided with it. Sliding down it, she stretched her legs out infront of her and closed her eyes, lips parted as she did naught but recover and breathe.

[member="Saran Drast"]
[member="Tyris Hayes"]
[member="Tarith"]

 

[Revenchent]

Tarith whirled on the Jedi woman. He couldn't afford to have passengers. Not with his mission parameters. This time, his hand fell to the small cylinder within his coat. Its grip was an all too familiar comfort as he sprung up from his chair, the blade hissing to life. It was a bloody crimson in color, violent in disposition, and unstable. Its light flickered brokenly, threatening to give out at a moment's notice.

"You're not coming," he said in warning, his brow furrowing. He reached up to draw back his cowl, revealing a youthful face, but eyes aged a thousand years. His pale lips pulled back in a sneer as he looked past the woman to the ship beyond. If she had gotten on board, then other would too. He gave her a moment to heed his warning, but decided better of it. It wouldn't do to have any witnesses.

His lightsaber rose to cleave [member="Saran Drast"] in half.

The wet slicing sound of flesh being cut open rose above the lightsaber's humming cadence. Tarith's eyes went wide, his expression twisting with sudden agony. He fell to his knees, blood pouring from his lips. Confused, he turned to look back, his hands clawing at the blade that had entered through his back, and erupted out of his stomach.

"H-how...?!" He gasped. Before he could speak any further, the blade was removed, and jabbed through his skull.

A taller figure stood over Tarith. He wore a mismatch of military fatigues and civilian clothes, and a gray hood was drawn over his face. Green eyes flickered with hatred as Tarith fell to the floor, the life leaving his eyes.

"You took longer than I expected," the man mumbled, reaching up to remove his hood. He was young, likely in his early twenties. His green eyes sparkled with friendliness, despite Tarith's gruesome execution. His dark brown hair was cropped short in a close-cut mohawk; nicks and scars dotting his fair-skinned face.

"May the gods give you the mercy I could not aruetiise, and when meet them, tell them which di'kut sent you. I could use the brownie points," he murmured, kicking Tarith's body to the floor. "Can you fly the ship? I need to move this body, and something tells me we'll need to leave relatively soon. Call it intuition."

Without awaiting a reply, the man leaned down to life Tarith's lifeless body up over his shoulder.

"Oh, and the name's Corrin, by the way."

With a pleased little smile, Corrin Tal'verda strode down the length of the vessel toward the gangplank, the assassin's body strewn over his shoulder. The corpse wouldn't be taking off with them.

[member="Astrid"], [member="Saran Drast"], [member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Saran Drast]

The all to familiar snap-hiss of a saber caught Saran off guard. Springing from he place, a dull grey cylinder sprung to her hand from inside her sleeve. The blue shoto blade sprung to life as he began his swing, aimed to deflect the violent chop into the floor. Her legs braced, but the blow never fell. She saw the blade pierce through him, and noticed for the first time the almost-visable person behind the man. He was faded, even as the life began to fade from this world into the Force. Her head tilted to the side, watching and listening to this new man carefully. She had to be focusing on him to see him. "How long have you been there?" She asked as she headed towards the cockpit. She could fly. Probably. She remembered the basics, but anything too complicated would push her abilities. It would be better if she had someone to help with the readouts. "Hey, you." She called to the other woman. "Come on. We're not out of this yet."

[member="Astrid"] [member="Corin Tal'verda"] [member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Tyris Hayes]

Tyris had barely gotten onto the ship and people were already being killed. Two lightsabers ignited then he heard the telltale sign of somone getting stabbed with some sort of metal blade. Tyris sighed before making his way up to the cockpit.

Tyris was surprised to see the obnoxious kid dead on floor, he was actually quite happy about it. The kid was a brat, he kind of regretted not killing the kid himself. Tyris looked down at the corpse.

"Serves him right." Tyris said

Tyris looked back up to the new person, who was apparently named Corrin. He looked rather young, around the same age as the kid that just got stabbed.

Tyris went back to the bunks without a word spoke, hopefully this new person would be much, less bratty.

[member="Saran Drast"]
[member="Corin Tal'verda"]
[member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

In the scant amount of time that had passed from her point of entry to the events that brought about Tarith's death felt far longer than it had been in truth. To her feet she had risen, alarm plastered upon her face. The hum of a lightsaber's activation had been what had captivated her attention. He had tried to kill the Jedi but had in turn been killed by another hooded figure. She had stood paralyzed in shock as the body slumped down to the floor, but recovered as words were spoken of flying the ship.

Fly?

She knew how to fly it. The woman's voice addressing her shattered the paralysis and she shook her head, her braid falling behind her back. The female Jedi was correct, they were not out of the hole they all had dug themselves into.

As the assassin named Corrin passed, Astrid stared at Tarith's lifeless corpse. There was a frown etched upon her face, one that matched the disappointment in her eyes. There was concern, questions, curiosities, distrust, and a multitude of different emotions that had come crawling to the surface as the old man hobbled in.

Her gaze snapped to him and the look she shot him was one of annoyance. There was little time to waste, however, and she knew that quickly ticking away. With one linger glance once more sparred for the fallen, she turned away and moved over to the control panel.

She knew class, quickly identifying it as a YV-929. She had limited experience with it, but she knew enough to get it off the ground. Astrid's hands moved quickly over the controls after throwing herself into the pilot's seat.

"If no one has any complaints, I'm getting this bird off the ground. Better get yourselves anchored in because I doubt they're going to let us off easy."