Into the Deep | CIS Dominion of Roon (Y,48)

[Saraya Arenais]

Post One​

Tags: [member=Luna Vega] [member=Rylan Kordel] [member=Asher Mossa]​

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From her vantage point Alora could see the Great Hall and the courtyard. It buzzed with a thousand different conversations, spoken in a thousand different voices that all merged together as one long, low hum. She had asked her lift drop her a little away from the gathering, it gave her a chance to collect her thoughts and enjoy the beautiful scenery. She thought absentmindedly on how much she needed to invest in a ship of her own.

The walk took around five minutes all together. But five minutes was long enough for Alora to work her mind into a nervous tangle. From where she stood previously everyone had looked smaller. The crowd had seemed less daunting. Now, up close and in the thick of it all, there were more people gathered here than Alora had ever seen in her life.

She tucked the thumb of her left hand into her palm and tapped her fingers rapidly against the red leather covering her thigh.

After a few moments of slow steadying breaths she worked up the courage to walk toward the nearest table. Though it felt completely out of character for her she took a seat next to the first person she saw, who happened to be [member=Asher Mossa].

A flicker of a smile crossed her lips and, hoping she wasn't interrupting anything important, began to speak. 'If you can help. I look for a drink the colour of coal. It tastes of summer harvest. I lack understanding of the word.' Her voice was soft and quiet, but it carried over the din of the courtyard. She was of course, talking of Ne'tra gal, but had found the word too complicated to hold in her memory.

 

[Rylan Kordel]

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Post: 2​

Tags: [member="Luna Vega"] [member="Asher Mossa"] [member="Alora Fae"]​

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Rylan chuckled at Luna's reaction to his order, shaking his head a little "I never really cared, I always just drink to celebrate another survival." slowly pulling out a cigar, cutting, lighting, and enjoying it's taste, his brow raised as a new voice greeted his ears, turning to look over at who was now talking to the duo of mercenary and pirate. Nodding a little, he extended a hand "Rylan Kordel, pleasure to meet you Asher." he tried not to be too amused at this Asher's case about the drink, because in truth, Rylan never cared too much about the drink, it was the sensation, the feeling of life rippling with a good or bad drink that he enjoyed.

"We'll see after a round or two of drinks about the underground, never know what relics and treasures hide in old force user ruins..." Glancing back towards Luna for a moment, he mulled around a few ideas on how their new partnership could work out, then came another voice, softer than should have been recognizable in a place this busy, and so he glanced over in the direction of the sound, having to lean a bit to look past Asher, a raised brow at this woman's question.

 

[Rylan Kordel]

(AAARGGGGHHHHH Double post.... delete please)​

 

[Luna Vega]

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Post: 2​

Mention: [member="Rylan Kordel"] | [member="Asher Mossa"] | [member="Alora Fae"]​

"Aye, bu'cha nu wanna die, ya wanna enjoy et," her smile was dazzling, despite the fact she was a pirate. Just as suddenly as Luna spoke, she clapped Rylan on the back as the bartender reappeared from the back, bottle in hand. The amber liquid took her attention, all of it, as if hypnotizing the lass. Being oblivious to her surroundings in that moment had her a loss- Vega hadn't noticed the newest arrival and turned only at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Both her pointer finger and her thumb touched, leaving three fingers up for their server. "Luna Vega," she introduced, their respective glasses tapping upon the bar top and the soothing sound pooling to the base called to her. Gray eyes flickered to the Wren, then back to Asher. "Pleasures mine," giving a light nod, she fingered one of the three tumblers and wrapped her inked digits about it, bringing it to her lips. The swallow pulled from her an air of satisfaction and she stilled, reveling in the taste.

From under soot lashes and the rim of her tumbler, Luna watched the woman approach. The smell barely reaching her senses drowned by the Reserve- still a faintness of floral, perhaps a spring tickled her nose, interrupting that of the alcohol for the briefest of moments. Her head of blue shook, skin prickling. A finger pointed up and then down from her other hand, signaling for her second round before the rest of the liquid gold shifted and slid down her throat. "Feltrep...hah..." the pirate laughed nervously, and set the empty glass down. "Too sober fo'll thet." Then, she thought, Roon stones and sighed inwardly.

Ne'tra gal, but she said nothing having not been the one spoken to. It was a nice choice, but a bit sweet for her taste. The preferred among Mandalorians, if she could recall. "Whaevar th'lass wents, J'aal."

 

[Dhakarta]

Location: Bar
Objective: Get arse over teakettle drunk, go in the death hole
Gear: Kurs Armour

While she'd been using the darkness to guide her, it was perhaps understandable that underfed, dehydrated as hell and sporting a sun burn that not even her dark-ish skin could hide, perhaps some quick indiscriminate drinking was in order. And also helping herself to the garnishes like a jackass. So with the disregard born of wandering about for about a week and being utterly out of her mind, she went for the nearest opening to the being behind the counter, and to hell with anyone else. "Barkeep. You're going to want a stylus. Rancor Blood and Breath, then Net'ra gal and Tihaar, THEN where do you even think you're going why would you need a stylus for four drinks obviously I'm not done. I'm half-dying and angry. Get me my booze, let me go in the death hole, and hope I don't come out. Carrying on. Garrmorl and Mon Cal Seaweed Mash. Durindfire and Tsiraki."

She paused for a moment to count on her finger. "And then Sashin-lead Mead and a Garnet Crow. Send another Crow over to.." She gestured vaguely "The red one"

[member="Alora Fae"]

 

[Mirra Voss]

Destruction brought the Shard here - with the fall of the Alliance and the horrific destruction of Coruscant (again, Solari mused thoughtfully) she had few places to turn, much of the Alliance-in-Exile had made it's way to the Outer Rim, but she had decided she might be able to do some good here, in a Confederacy modelled on one she remembered, ruled once again by Sith.

But she wasn't here to fight - not that she couldn't, if she needed to, but the messages had been quite clear - all are welcome regardless of their philosophical beliefs. Her visions told her this Confederacy had a bold future, bright or dark.

So she came to put their words to the test, and perhaps apply some mediating influence.

She settled her robes around her comfortably and walked in the great hall, light glittering briefly off her ultrachrome-weave 'skin' as she surveyed the room. If the bartender was startled by an obvious droid asking for a drink, he didn't show it. But then again, she didn't move like a droid. She moved like a fluid, living being of glittering metal wrapped in the plain robes of a Jedi Knight.

 

[Fawn Alzi]

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Post: 3
Equipped With: Lightsaber | Knife | Decrepit staff | Sarcasm
Objective: Spelunk
Nearby: [member="Kyle Naktis"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Mavrek Kordalas"] | [member="Dalvas Stone"]

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Fawn couldn't help but smirk at Erin's remark, agreeing, "I'm glad you approve of the necromancy. These days, the only ones I can truly rely on are the dead. It's rigorous work trying to perfect the art, but when you're already as foul and lifeless as I am, it seems to come naturally. It's too bad you're such a thing of beauty and grace. Tragic, really."

She hoped that the scenery would have been darker, more foreboding, but beggars couldn't be choosers, she supposed. Being in a tomb still felt like being at home, though, she had to admit. Her time on her homeworld of Dathomir had done well to prepare her for such ventures into the dark, and as she followed loosely behind Canker deeper and deeper inside, her hand grew closer and closer to the hilt of her saber.

 

[Asher Mossa]

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Tag: [member="Luna Vega"] | [member="Rylan Kordel"] | [member="Alora Fae"]​

Post: 3​

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With the introductions out of the way, Asher turned to the new comer. The others had mentioned to the bar keep to get her whatever she wanted, but Asher was trying to figure out what she wanted. Whatever it was that she was after it sounded fantastic. Black, tasting of summer harvest, it sounded like something a Mandalorian would drink. What was it called... it was on the tip of Asher's tongue...

"Ne'tra gal... and make that two," he said holding up two fingers. It sounded like mead, but a different color.

Asher nodded at the idea that they might be too sober for a trip into a deep dark hole. With a smirk on his face, feeling a little like his old self that used to enjoy a good round of drinks with friends. Well they were strangers, but most people became friends once the alcohol ran its course. At this point, Asher was ready for friends. Living as though his life was a curse was getting tiresome. Being outgoing seemed to work, and right now was as good a chance as any to move on from the tragedy that had been his past.

The barkeep set the drinks in front of them, and Asher looked at the black stuff. His nose went to it, and smelled it. Asher shrugged and looked to the three people he had just met, and took a drink! It was strong, but it was good!

"Yup, that's good..." he looked to the redhead that had sat next to him. "Not sure I caught your name... I'm Asher."

This was going to be a good time. Even if they never made their way to the mission, a few drinks was exactly what Asher needed.

 

[Saraya Arenais]

Post Two​

Tags: [member=Luna Vega] [member=Rylan Kordel] [member=Asher Mossa] [member=Dhakarta]​

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The pair of drinks that had been ordered for Alora clacked on the heavy wooden bar in front of her. One from [member=Asha Mosa] and one from [member=Dhakarta]. She was pleased that people could still guess her meaning and that she didn't sound like a complete lunatic. Well, she could very well sound like a complete lunatic, but so far everyone had been too polite to say so.

To begin with she took a long, slow chug of Ne'tra gal with the confidence only a regular drinker could have. Wiping the access that had gathered on her top lip with the sleeve of her armour, she turned her attention back to [member=Luna Vega], [member=Rylan Kordel] and [member=Asher Mossa]. The whole time her face remained still as stone, no emotion crossed it at all. Not a slither of a smile or the nervous twitch of someone who doesn't belong.

'I am named as Alora. It is of my pleasure to meet all of you.' Her head turned toward the other two standing at the bar, hoping they would introduce themselves a second time for her sake.

With that, she raised the glass of Crow that [member=Dhakarta] had ordered for her and downed it in one quick gulp. Not before raising it toward the woman by way of thanks. 'If all worlds are all like this then I will enjoy being here.' She turned the corners of her mouth up in what she hoped would be an confident, impish smile. But having had little practice at this it turned out to be more of a painful look of unease.

 

[Dhakarta]

Location: Bar
Objective: Finish gettin arse over teakettle drunk, go in the death hole
Gear: Kurs Armour


As her drinks were lined up before her, Dhakarta threw them back. Once a glass was picked up, it did not touch the counter again until it was empty. The first four were home and comfort. Not that this made them burn any less, but sometimes home hurt. The second two were for sustenance. Oh they'd still put you on your ass, this wasn't in question, but the bone meal and the algae would help make up for the lack of food the last few days. Thee coexisted uneasily in her stomach, but this was fine. The last two drinks were quite frankly to get the taste of the first six out of her mouth.

She sat a moment longer, making sure that there would be no sudden and violent refusal by her stomach. She felt fine, so she stood to go forth, put down the Wilde Dark and so on an so forth. And promptly and with none of that sissy sagging at the knees, tipped over backwards.


"Dushad'gotar" She swore from the floor. The best that could be said was that at least she wasn't in beskar'gam, that was much harder to get up in. Opening and closing a hand, taking it account how apparently drunk she was, she got back up to her feet. Swaying slightly, but stable enough.

Most of those present were paired up, involved in their own conversations. One was not. With largess born of borderline alcohol poisoning, she decided to invite the pointy eared woman with her. Tipping her head towards [member="Lirka Ka"] ignoring the movement this caused of the rest of the room, she spoke.

"If you have finished here, I be heading below. There is death to deal and allies to support yes? Or stay here of course, it is your choice, but I go. Biding Muskeg, bides only until the time to strike, yes?" She turned to leave and head for the staging point "If you fight with me, I am Dhakarta."

 

[Kyle Naktis]

Affiliation
CIS

Post
#3

Kyle trailed on hearing the CIS behind him. Kyle focusing on the sounds of the Sith spawn around him. Kyle's side searing in pain, Kyle used that to focus on the dark side. Kyle then heard a screeching and then turned to his right to be face to face in the darkness with a Sith spawn. Its silver teeth sharp as knives, acidic saliva dripping from its mouth as it opened it's mouth and hissed at Kyle.

Kyle quickly uppercutted the spawn putting his hidden wrist blade through it's mouth killing the spawn. Then Kyle felt something grab him from behind and throw him into the wall across the cave. Kyle lit a glow stick after he fell and caught a glimpse of the creature. It stood roughly 7 to 8 feet tall, black skin, he could make out long claws with boney arms and torso showing it's ribs.

Kyle was taken back by it's appearance. Kyle took out his lightsabers activating them. Kyle took a swing at the creature but it jumped up and stuck to the ceiling of the cave. Kyle went to use force lightning on the creature, but the creature stuck out it's hand absorbing the lightning. Kyle then tried force crush, then tried using telekinesis but none worked on the creature. Kyle then instantly knew he was in trouble. This was not good.


Kyle leaped up and slashed at the creature cutting off a clawed hand. The creature fell to the floor cave. Kyle stood tall over it, then the spawn stood up instantly towering over Kyle. Kyle looked up at it. The creature swung at Kyle hitting him knocking his lightsabers out of his hands. Kyle sprang back to his feet and roundhouse kicked the creature. Kyle then started giving the creature punches and kicks to it's torso while ducking and dodging the attacks from the creature.

The creature grabbed Kyle by his throat and lifted Kyle off the ground squeezing its grip tighter and tighter around Kyle's throat. Kyle used the force as he was suffocating to lift his lightsabers. Kyle directed his sabers to the creatures sides and cut the creature in half killing it. Kyle dropped to the floor coughing massaging his throat. Kyle grabbed his sabers turning them off stumbling to his feet. Kyle put t sabers on his belt and pressed on deeper into the cave.



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[Arahael]

Location: Unknown cave on plains of Roon
Objective: Find a Roonstone

Cato threw a pail of water over their fire, leaving only tendrils of smoke rising above and out of the cave. This was supposed to be it: The location of the Roonstone he had been looking for. Roonstones were of course rare in their own right, but Cato was looking for one left here by a Mandalorian. It was said to have been inscribed with words of their language, hidden away after being infused with a force enchantment. He had come here with a parchment, on which was drawn some clues to obtaining the Roonstone.

Taking a break from the Viceroyalty of Maramere was an occasion he took with care. If he was to be away from his duties, civil or military, then he would ensure it was for a good reason.

Cato spoke to the companions who had come with him "This is it, now to look for the symbol."

Next to their encampment was a stone tower, reaching almost to the top of the open part of the cave. On the upper part, unreachable by most, was a symbol that corellated with one on the parchment he had brought with him.

"No way of reaching that, other than..." pausing for a moment, Cato then drew his pistol and fired at the symbol, causing it to press inwards. A stone panel then opened on the lower part, revealing a circular, metallic device. Three rings and a central button made up the device, with numerous animals from Mandalore and Concord Dawn inscribed on. Looking back to the parchment, the device had been drawn with the correct order of animals.

Cato turned the metallic rings to the order that was depicted, a Mythosaur skull, a Stathas and then a Vhe'viin. Making sure to take a moment and ensure the order was correct, he pressed the central button. Immediately, the sound of internal workings rumbled, and for a moment it stopped. Then, the panel holding the metallic device lowered, revealing the treasure he had been searching for.

 

[Rylan Kordel]

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Post: 3​

Tags: [member="Luna Vega"] [member="Asher Mossa"] [member="Alora Fae"]​

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"Not afraid of dyin' Luna, seen enough of this galaxy over the centuries to know it don't mean nothin'" Rylan cracked a grin, taking his glass and downing the liquid, letting the taste and burn run it's course with a satisfied "ah" at the end. Hearing this Alora woman speak, he looked back over to the red head, one appraising glance over her before nodding, lifting the glass in her direction after it had been refilled, "Rylan Kordel, most just call me Ry."

He mused for a moment at what the woman ordered, wasn't a word he'd head in awhile and chuckled a bit as he dragged from the cigar at the old memories it brought up, then he glanced back at his drink, downing this one as fast, if they'd be heading into dark, haunted caves, he was going to need a lot more booze in his system. "So Asher, Alora... What brings you both to this lovely establishment and mud hole planet?" there was a chuckle at his own words, it was clear this mercenary was amused by himself at the very least.

 

[EmKay]

Objective: Hunt Post: II Loadout: Serrated Sword; Hatchet; Blaster; Clothing/Light Armour; Chem-Lights; Emergency Med-Injectors​

Nearby: [member="Erin Tenel"] ; [member="Fawn Alzi"] ; Others?​

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Dalvas stood at the mouth of the cavern. There was an unnatural breeze that drifted out from it which carried a myriad of unusual scents. He knelt down and scooped up a handful of dirt and sand. He squeezed it in his hand. It was no spiritual rite, but it gave him something to do with his hands. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths and then he merely listened. There were echoes, drips, but underneath it all was a certain... slithering. Something that went against the natural grain of background noise. There was no doubt now that there were creatures within, and judging by the magnitude there were plenty to go around.

A brief gust brought with it the sounds of combat and a certain smell. It was like a punch in the stomach, and he swayed a moment before steadying himself again. In the back of his mind he questioned his sanity, going on a hunt with so many Force users around, but he shook off that self-doubt. It would be fine. He would be fine. There was plenty to kill, plenty of danger, that he wouldn't have to worry about accidentally flaying the wrong mark. He rose up, and drew his weapons. Blaster in one hand and sword in the other, he took his first steps into the deep unknown.

 

[Lirka Ka]

[member="Dhakarta"]

Lirka couldn't lie, she didn't have much love for raving drunks. She could remember a handful she had smashed in with her gauntlet before, but this wasn't Nar Shadda, Anzat, or whatever other nonsensical bits of Underworld garbage she had frequented for so much of her life now. She actually let that roll over her for a bit, she had "lived" in the underworld for about a whole century...that was an interesting concept to consider.

But this was the Confederacy now. Times were different here, and she couldn't go and break this newcomer's nose. When she spoke it held a fairly thick accent that immediately showed herself to be from defunct Sephi nobility of Thustra. Such a rich history from one as old as her.

"I grow bored of sitting around and watching people talk. Something needs to bleed. Might as well....wait....can you even hold a weapon?"

She looked her over a few times, gauging just how drunk her short-lived partner would be. But hey, that just meant she would be a nice meatshield so she could go and hack some enemies to pieces.

 

[Dhakarta]

Location: Entering the Underdark
Objective: Feth some poodoo up, drunken massacre
Gear: Kurs Armour

Dhakarta laughed when her new companion asked if she could hold a weapon. "See you any weapons on this one?"

Armour, this she had, though it was of a basic sort, not the high tech or heavy armour she might wear any other day.

"Be not concerned." She waved a hand. "I am Witch, I am always deadly. And if I had weapons, I am Mandalorian, until I march far away, I can use them."

In the normal way of the CIS, they'd not bothered to have the bar particularly far from the cavern entrance. It was perhaps understood that those below would not let the danger surface, or possibly that those above ought to be able to deal with it if it did. Both were likely true. A man she'd not met before, [member="Dalvas Stone"] , was just entering ahead of them, slowly and carefully. Wisely. So of course it was no great surprise that Dhakarta who may as well have just been out for a stroll wandered ahead of him, before turning back to view both him and [member="Lirka Ka"] .

"Here, a gift, for the dark is very deep here. I am certain either of you could do this yourselves but, I choose." And as if this made more than enough sense, her eyes briefly closed as spirit ichor rose around her, shimmering like a green iridescent mist. Eyes opened and it rushed forward, born on an intangible wind to coat Lirka and Dalvas. Assuming neither used their own inborn abilities to fight it off, which they might, the Boon of the Vornskr was upon them. It operated much like force sense, save that rather than picking up everything equally, it was made to hunt, and those without discipline might find themselves more aggressive in their hunt.

"Could use better hearing but, perhaps that which we go to kill also uses hearing yes? Then sound, this is a good weapon, and best if I do not make any allies heads explode. Would feel at least a little bad."

To her mind having just explained herself adequately, she gave herself a slight shake, and trotted forward, where allies waited, and enemies further beyond. Somewhere there there was fighting, the rush of life energy, twisted as it was that was released upon death confirmed this.

Drunk was good. Killing would be better. A battle grin rarely seen, hidden by helmet or sorrows spread across her face.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Objective: whatever
Wearing: nondescript jeans, black t, combat boots
Wielding: two vibroswords, 10 Czerka knives, 5 glitter bullets
Tags: [member="Mavrek Kordalas"] [member="Kyle Naktis"] [member="Erin Tenel"] [member="Fawn Alzi"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Dalvas Stone"]
Post: 2

She was still standing at the entrance after others had already gone deeper into the caverns.

She could still feel the pull of the Darkside, and it was still different. It was not the sweet joy she knew it to be in days that had passed. Now it seemed to both try to lure her in as well as push her out. This was not a place she was welcome at.

Someone was talking to her. Scherezade looked to see who, her eyes falling on [member="Mavrek Kordalas"]. She blinked. When did people in the CIS ever talk to her out of their own free will?

"Am I?" she asked him, acutely aware of the knives beneath her clothes. How many times had she been berated for them? Well... Only a few, to be honest, but with the Darkside washing over her and causing her head to be confused, they suddenly felt too heavy on her.

"I think I better be heading back."

 

[Er'in Tenel]

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"Lifeless, foul and..." Er'in went silent as the noise of battle flared then abated again in the distance.

She could feel the gathering pull of animal intelligence and brutal cunning, the flexible shift of the dark side energies as if it was broad daylight, not a murky tomb. Even though she and [member="Fawn Alzi"] were perhaps only half way down the passage [member="Kyle Naktis"] had slipped through, just where the the attacks on him had become serious. They were in fact, surrounded - or close to it, the creatures had yet to close the second noose.

Another Sith might have sent out a telepathic warning to alert the person ahead and the people behind that things were about to become considerably more complex than expect.

"Nu visita sh'jatau tave midwan iv saud!"

Er'in prefered simpler, louder solutions - a wall of purple-black fire erupted from her hands and sped down two side passages, sending out a thunder-clap hiss-roar that could be heard on the surface, and a flare of light that would carry far in both directions. The outraged death howls of the creatures lurking in ambush joined the symphony of rage and fire, before falling silent.

Not that Er'in had much time to listen, because more of the black-carapaced, slick-surfaced monsters scuttled from crevices, side tunnels and came barreling in from ahead. She instictively stepped back towards [member="Fawn Alzi"] and ignited her lightsaber, raising her free hand to send empowered lances of purple-blue lightning down the corridor into the advancing mass.

"... I hope still as athletic and skilled as I remember!"

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[member="Dalvas Stone"] | [member="Mavrek Kordalas"] | [member="Fawn Alzi"] |[member="Kyle Naktis"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Dhakarta"] | [member="Lirka Ka"] | [member="Kyle Naktis"]​

 

[Lirka Ka]

[member="Dhakarta"] [member="Dalvas Stone"]

Witch? In Lirka's own mind she could only curse out Cultist. One does not live for 127 years, while being a potent enough force sensitive to teach herself dangerous abilities and not draw the eye of the many Force Cults of the Galaxy all denied in one form or another. Other force sensitives made her feel...wary. Abilities far better trained than her own and an ability to twist and turn her how they pleased. For as useful of a tool the force was, she hated it all the same.

"Good enough. Try not to trip."

She could be thankful for that, Lirka actually made a joke, those were very rare instances.

Her now helmeted head used two glowing green eye holes watch this new comer. Of course, everyone here was more or less foreign to her. Stumbled upon in a bar was about the same as being seen in a Nar Shadda horde, it meant next to nothing. Well, was time to see just how much she could trust new people. Though this new one was...interesting. She could tell just by looking him over, oh the exotic things you saw travelling the Galaxy.

And as the Boon came to her, she tried her best to trust. Clawed gauntlets clenched into fists as did her far too white teeth, she hated being touched with the Force by someone else, it felt dirty, invasive. Like they'd pry into her mind and pull out so many secrets that had been lost alongside the last generation of humanity, but to her credit: she only let out a heavily distorted grunt and didn't cuss the witch out. She was improving, that was for sure.

With the new, and unnatural, feeling coursing through her she pulled her massive blade, her "klaive" as she called it, into her hand and readied position. The same two-handed grip the exotic weapon always needed, she expected a fight soon. She wanted a fight soon. But by every God worshipped on Thustra, the Nine Hells of Corellia, and the Goddesses of Naboo it was hard to focus. She could feel force users, far too many than she felt comfortable with.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Creeping along the dim hallways, Daxton tried to avoid contact when he could, both friendly or otherwise. Not that he was being antisocial but rather it was more of a matter of expedience. Those non friendlies he could not avoid, well suffice to say they will no longer be bothering anyone anymore, after all what were a few more corpses in place like this.

The site was awash with Dark Side energy, so much that he did not need to reach out to Force to sense it. The orbalisk colony though was getting agitated with so much energy in the air, sticking their barbed hooks into his flesh in their eagerness to feast. Biting back a hiss as the familiar burn raced through his system, he commanded the colony to rein itself in. Now was not the time for that, time enough for feasting later he promised.....