Losing Connection

[Dravis Rosilla]

It was obvious the Bith glowed at the praise, however small it was. I try.

Dravis let his endless eyes survey the hallway, tensing at the thought of an ambush. He crouched low, stepping lightly to the doorway the pair of Force-Sensitives escaped from. He listened, a snarl on his lips.

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"... do we do? The prisoners are gone!" The first voice seemed frantic, terrified.

"Maybe... we go after them! Take a few vornskr!" The second was deeper, angrier.

"You mean the Captain's vornskr? No, off limits." A feminine voice, but with the same venom as the second.

"Then what do we do? Let them get away?"

"The Captain has a plan. He always has a plan."

"Like chit he does! To the Netherworld with him. We can take a couple of little Jedi without their glowy swords!"

---​

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"Jedi, you say?"

Dravis had heard enough. He could practically taste the rage in his mouth, feel it at his fingertips. He stepped through the doorway, not caring if Rakieh was following him in. He had been abused, underestimated, and abandoned one too many times. He activated the vibroblade, a vibrant hum echoing his words.

The three guards, two men and a woman, sprang into action, pulling blaster carbines. Dravis was now in his element.

As each guard fired, they would feel their blasters pulling in random directions, making their shots go wide. Whenever they corrected their aim, their arms felt tired, and their weapons would lag to the other side. Dravis approached calmly, hand raised ominously ahead of him. One guard lost their head. The second was bisected.

Dravis exerted his full powers on the last one, the woman. Her limbs pulled themselves to her sides, locked in place. Her body stood rigid, trapped in nothing but air.

Air, and the Force.

Dravis walked forward, pulling the blaster from her hand. He held his sword up to her throat, an angry glow in his solemn black eyes.

"You are going to comply with us, or you are going to die." His words were calm, his face was anything but.

Well, Rakieh? Would you like to ask this nice lady a few questions?

- [member="Rakieh Atur"] -

 

[Rakieh Atur]

Rakieh, shall we say, found himself distracted. While his mind should have been focused on the direness of the situation, the likeliness of their escape, the possibility of death and all the tension that such things create, he found himself watching the Bith in front of him as he could see the vermillion glow of his mouth curl slowly into a snarl. He watched as Dravis walked calmly, with every rage filled step, towards the guards of the cells of their captors, and watched as he attuned to the space around them and struck fear in the hearts of their enemies. He watched as the look of sheer terror permanently engraved itself in the face of one guard before he lost his head. He watched as the searing pain penetrated every thought of the second, and vocalised itself in a brief blood-curdling scream before he found himself split in two. He watched as the last found herself confined within the very presence of space itself, a like she was trapped in a cage of air and the Force, fear was trapped deep in her brain and seeped into the very essence of her heart.

Rakieh's accounts of the events were quickly interrupted by a question which penetrated his mind.

Questions?

A slight chuckle escaped him, and in the context that the third guard was missing, it might very well have seemed simply as though he had suffered from insanity.

What could this cur possibly know? This grunt? She's bound to be mindless.

Rakieh took a deep breath as he walked up to the imprisoned, the hollow pits which would be his eyes effectively starring into her soul. With another drawn breath, he could feel the rate of her breath increase, and see the dull grey image of her lips quiver in their presence. In response his face made no change, and as opposed to Dravis, was emotionless, cold, and to some extent, dead.

"What's your game, sleemo? What's your play?"

Rakieh shook his head and scoffed.

"No. Not you. You have no game. You're a clueless dog. The idiom of the game isn't even a concept you've acquired. What's your boss's game?"

[member="Dravis Rosilla"]

 

[Dravis Rosilla]

The woman, who had effectively been incapacitated, looked between the two Force-Users with complete disgust. Straining, she spit on the ground at Rakieh's feet, eyes like a wildfire. "The Captain has a plan."

"Yeah, I got that." Dravis felt a bead of sweat trickle down his face. "What might that plan be?"

The woman struggled, and Dravis' head began to pulse. "The Captain has a plan."

The Bith bit back a snarl, constricting his grip on the guard, making her undoubtedly more uncomfortable. "You are trying my patience, girl!" Dravis felt the words in his mouth, and grimaced. Even he knew that was an edgy, overused line by the Sith of the galaxy.

The soldier clenched her jaw, unmoving, staring into the endless eyes of Drav, and the non-existent eyes of Rakieh. "The Captain has a plan."

Dravis noticed he had been tiring too late.

"He always has a plan."

The woman brought up her weapon, but instead of firing it at the pair, she shot herself.

The guard fell down, rendered a lifeless corpse by her own volition. Dravis cursed, releasing his hold on her. "Kark! Well, there goes the one lead we had."

The Captain. Nothing to go on. Nothing at all. Despite escaping his cell, he felt as if he knew less than when he was held prisoner.

- [member="Rakieh Atur"] -

 

[Rakieh Atur]

As he looked at the limp and fresh remains of their impromptu-informant, Rakieh felt as though his emotions split at the sight of the mess she made. The first emotion he felt was something akin to pity, maybe a sadness in light of the unfortunate series of events and plays that had inevitably lead to her death. The second, and arguably the more prominent of the two he was feeling, was disgust. It was sickening to think that someone would so willingly take their life in the name of something so twisted... it had to be twisted. It had to be twisted, sick, vile, and all manners of evil. And she made a mess of herself to keep it secret and to keep it safe. Disgusting.

Rakieh's face curled.

"What a waste."

He turned to Dravis, hoping that maybe he might have the answer, knowing well that neither one of them really did.

"What do we do then?" The question was almost rhetorical. "No information, no idea what to do next. We're completely in the dark here."

He sighed. "No. Forgive me. My declarations are pointless."

Rakieh shook his head, and looked back to the hall that appeared to be the only option they had left. Perhaps it was the better option as it was to begin with. "Well... We at the very least we know nothing to fear. I say we move forward, as we had instinctually done so earlier. And keep hunting. At least until one of these dogs tells us something worth noting."

He turned his head once more to Dravis. "What say you brother?"

[member="Dravis Rosilla"]

 

[Dravis Rosilla]

Dravis had many brothers.

He had grown up on Coruscant, with two loving parents, and a mess of younger siblings. Twelve brothers and sisters, to be precise. Sith always seemed to have troubled pasts, but this simply wasn't the case for Drav. His family, while large, provided for him, and loved him.

He had come to Coruscant to see them, but had been abducted by strange people before he could get to them. Rakieh calling him brother reminded him of this, and he soured. "I like that plan."

Dravis ran a finger over his face, thinking hard. "Well, I suppose we should head towards where the guards were coming from. I'm not sure if the rest of the place knows we're out, but I don't want to risk anything. So..." Dravis rubbed his knuckles, feeling them pulse with pain, "considering these guards responded to the others not checking in, they should have come from a barrack, or recreation room. If we want to find someone to interrogate, it'll be there. I don't like our odds of facing a group of people we don't get the drop on."

Dravis nodded to Rakieh, and stepped out of the door, looking both ways before dashing forward.

They were on the hunt.

- [member="Rakieh Atur"] -