Private ~ Shattering ~

[Vulcan Krayt]

Objective I: Destroy the nasty station and everything/everyone in it
Location: Hyperspace, Aboard Shai's Freighter, Enroute To Mala, Outer Rim
Equipment: Sword, M.I. Beskar'gam Mk.1 M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol, M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle x2, Thermal Detonators, Magnetic Detonators, Perun's Call
Tag: | Shai Maji | Gwyneira Vizsla | Kranak Vizsla | Sergeant Omen |

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Vulcan was silent and he even allowed himself to brood, his various weapons primed and ready, there is nothing in his mind except on getting his sister back, violently if necessary. His hands shook, his eyes dilated with stress and worry, his helmet hiding his expression but his body language spoke volumes of growing worry.

Once they breached with the force of 20 Tsunamis and secured the area and enemy combatants, he got out in front and before anyone realised where he was going, the youngster saw Gwyn, soaking wet, mutilated and frail. Everything muffled into just noise as he saw how bad it was, he swung wildly as a fellow Krayt grabbed and held his face away as Gwyn was covered up and taken away to safety.

Still, Vulcan struggled to get free and follow his sister, he was distressed, angry and sad mashed into one meltdown. The youngster kept everything to himself, always batting away questions and checkups during the mission. He needed to focus on Gwyn.

His chest burned, his head hurt between his eyes, this was real and he can't stand the idea that Gwyn was near death, and hurt beyond understanding. He would revert to form, deny that anything was wrong, he was on the other side of that glass, looking in, he should not be able to feel this way, he wasn't Gwyn. He wriggled free from Jos's grip to walk to the shattered cylinder, the reek of acid stung, even under his helmet. The glass splits his reflection into fragments, not quite lining up with each other.

He picked up a shard and held it up, the unnatural light of the overheads glinting triangles into the metal of his armour. Lost in what to do, his zealous energy as broken as the glass on the floor in front of him.

<"I failed to protect my sister.">

 

[Grassias Dala]

N/A

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Holding his rifle at the ready, Omen stormed the chamber with the rest of the squad and secured the area. The first sight he saw once he calmed from his ready stance was the muttering Kranak holding the clearly mutilated and unconscious Gwyn in his arms. Knowing better to speak up in such a delicate time, he would help secure the room until he heard Shai Maji speak a sentence that made the man shake his head. Still kicking? And he thought he was insensitive at times.

Turning to his left, he saw the young Ubese quivering as he fought to get away from another Krayt footsoldier, obviously in distress. Maybe he... no he would just make the situation worse. The Clone's feet decided for him however as he strode over to the two, making it the whole way just as Vulcan broke away from his captor and started to mutter to himself, gripping the glass in his hand like he was a raven transfixed by a shiny object. With a heavy sigh at the young man's words, he got down on one knee to be at the young man's level. "Yes, we all did... She is our sister and we failed to keep her safe. But now we have one thing few people get, a second chance. Let's try to use it the best we can to make sure she still breaths till we get home." With that he gestured for the Ubese to follow him in the rearguard as everyone left the room, making sure to have his weapon at the ready if any guards tried to make one last push before they reached the airlock.

Kranak Vizsla , Gwyneira Vizsla , Shai Maji , Vulcan Krayt

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[Gwyneira Vizsla]

H O L D - M E - N O W​

Was she hallucinating? That acid must have been some potent stuff. She had to be hallucinating. After so long, there was no way her buir was here now, rescuing her now. As the liquid drained around her, she shivered. Her eyes glued wearily on the image of her buir, waiting for the painful aspersion to disappear. Yet, it did not. The tube was then forcibly punched by the image of the giant, causing the acid to pour out. Her cheeks turned red, that the full display of her brokenness was revealed to everybody. Yet, through her disbelief, she gained a sliver of hope as the breathing apparatus was pulled off of her.

No. Don't give me hope. Beat me down again, just don't do this...

She was numb and silent with further shock as she felt a cloth wrapped around her. She blinked once, looking up as he soothed her. That was his voice. Kranak's voice! Hope wanted to break through, but she was terrified of the illusion breaking and her buir vanishing, leaving her alone once more.

He picked her up, gently, and continued to soothe her with his words as he took her to a table and started working on patching her up. She was helpless, relying solely on this figure as he hosed her down. Cold water slammed against her body, freeing her from the burning acid. The potent smell was fading as she was drenched. Water dripped off the table as she breathed heavily. He told her it was over now, and she wanted to believe it.

What if this was not all some insane fever dream? What if...

That was when more noise, more footsteps, entered her world. That was when more familiar faces entered her sights, and she heard the familiar sarcastic humor of Shai Krayt, her Alor, in this dire situation.

A small smile crossed her face, amused. It was here that it hit her. - This was real.

She was safe now.

As Shai and Kranak continued to work on her, getting her onto a stretcher, she teared up. They were here. Her clan, her buir... She even spotted Vulcan and Omen in the corner of her eyes. Relief. Grand relief. The greatest relief she ever felt in her life. She had been in this place for so long, too long. Once the reality hit her that it was all over now, she was going home, she started crying. Loudly. A weak wail echoed in the room. Her fingers limply flexed. She was unable to even lift her hand, she was so weak. Yet, as she looked to Kranak, she longed for him to hold her again.

"Don't leave me..."

Kranak Vizsla Shai Maji Vulcan Krayt Sergeant Omen

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

In the dimly lit room, the Arkanian scientist finished sending all the data and expirament results to those who would benefit from it. He knew that backups were elsewhere in the facility, but by using his personal computer, he would ensure that the information would be secured and successfully sent. Then, he set the laptop aside and stood up. He sighed, knowing fully well that he was likely to die today. He had spent his entire life researching for the benefit of Arkania's future. He faced exile from his homeworld for believing in tradition and spitting at the regulations of that pathetic Galactic Alliance. He researched, the proper way, in the shadows for decades, sending information like this back to willing researchers on Arkania for the benefit of their master race.

He had little regret, having spent his entire life for the betterment of Arkanian kind.

His only regret was that moment of weakness, where he stooped so low as to find comfort in a one night stand with a human woman. His only regret was that a wretched daughter was borne out of that, born. He had never meant for a lowly human to snatch his seed, and now he was living with the consequences.

That had been why, when he found out she was still alive after his homeworld fell, he had decided to capture and torment that loose branch for daring to exist. He performed any needed research, and more, on her mimick Arkanian body to aid in medicinal research for Arkania. Now, that was over, but he was not yet satisfied.

He pulled a blaster out and aimed it coldly at the computer. The pistol was fired, several times, until he was sure that the computer was destroyed. He slipped the handheld weapon back into its belt and pulled out a container of shock filament, looking at the canister with ill intent. With the information of where the Mandalorian rescue team boarded, he would set a trap and finally tie up his loose end.

It was not enough to use his mistake for a greater purpose. Now that the purpose had been fulfilled, she needed to be disposed of. Even if it was the last thing he did...

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Shattering​

Location: Mala, Space Station
Local Time: N/A
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Rescue Gwyn
Secondary Objective: Execute On-Site Personnel
Equipment: Loadout 2 (Minus the Backpack and Primary. Integrated SD Belt. + Goran’s Stand
Tags: Shai Maji | Gwyneira Vizsla | Vulcan Krayt | Sergeant Omen

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”Move over, big guy, she’s in good hands.”

Sensing the commotion to his left in the laboratory, the giant glanced at the squad’s medic in response. He and another medic walked towards him at a brisk pace. Standing besides the Alor’ad[1], they gently yet sternly pushed him away from his daughter. He would have refused had he brought his medical backpack with him, but he wasn’t the team’s medic for this operation. Reluctantly complying, the giant took a few steps backwards, away from the operating table her daughter lied upon. Although forced to step back and let the medics do their job, he watched the procedure regardless, making sure they were following the correct medical procedure to deal with his daughter’s injury.

Eyes fixated upon the two pairs of surgical gloved hands operating on Gwyn, his mind was absent from the present at that moment; sorrow had left its place to simmering hatred, fueling the fires of the burning desire of revenge.

”Freighter’s docked and mothership is waiting for us. We got what we came for, Kran, let’s get outta here.” Shai insisted with a cold voice as she rested a hand on his shoulder to gently tug him towards her.

The giant’s response came in the form of silence at first. He heard the Wardog’s words, felt her grasp on his left shoulder as she tugged him towards herself, yet his mind did not register them at that moment. He could hear the voices of Omen and Vulcan, followed a moment or two after the Wardog’s words, yet he remained unresponsive. The giant’s mind was occupied with an attempt to find a suitable way of execution for the on-site personnel that remained; those that weren’t killed outright during the assault on the space station. Dozens of methods and memories from field executions he took part in the past flashed before his eyes, reliving each execution once more in his mind. Some were very painful, but all of them were quick.

Too quick.

Death took them too quick, denying them the magnitude of pain, degradation and desperation they deserved to feel before their souls left their bodies. He was almost dissatisfied with the lack of a proper punishment the on-site personnel truly deserved, yet one method that would inflict what he seeked stuck out to him.

His eyes glowed with a blood-chilling sinister glimmer behind the glowing white visor of his buy’ce[2]. He turned and looked at the Wardog before he spoke. <”Detain the on-site personnel, we will take them with us,”> he said, his voice as cold and ruthless as Kestri’s winter; his anger barely kept in check. The giant explained what he had in mind for them further a moment after his request. <”They must not be granted a swift death. No,”> the giant gave a glance to his daughter over his right shoulder. <”They must feel the desperation she had felt, ten fold, before they inevitably die,”> He knew how Gwyn had felt under captivity. Forgotten, cast away, no hope for a rescue. He was in her shoes once, years ago. He very well knew how that felt. The Vizsla shifted his gaze back at the Wardog once more before continuing. <”We shove them in a few escape pods aboard The Vhipirheim, and launch them when we’re in hyperspace. Let them lose their minds slowly,”> the next best thing was spacing[3] them, but again, it earned them a far too quick death for his taste. Asphyxiating for a minute or two from the lack of oxygen as their warm bodies swiftly chilled in the vacuum of space did not satiate his thirst for revenge just right. They weren’t given the time to process just how karked they were. <”They’re going to be trapped in hyperspace for an eternity, with no hope of rescue,”> Turning his gaze away from the Wardog, the giant glanced at the working medics as he finished explaining the method of execution he had in his mind in detail. <”Or survival.”>

With the medics stabilizing Gwyn enough for extraction a few minutes after the giant finished, the pair of medics moved her malnourished body on a repulsorlift stretcher from the metal operating table after covering her with a thermal blanket. Hearing her break into tears and her weak, soul eviscerating wail and whimper, the giant briskly approached his daughter and halted the medics for a moment. <”It’s okay,”> Leaning forward slightly, the Vizsla gently held her hand as he began to slowly stroke her hair to calm her down. <”It’s okay, sweetheart,”> He said with a calming, soothing voice; despite the anger he harbored that began to overtake him. With a muffled gasp, his heart sank as his eyes met hers. Her eyes used to be pupiless, a sign of her half Arkanian heritage. But now, he was looking back at a pair of amber eyes; her whites reddened from shedding tears.

What had they done to her? How was this possible?

”Don’t leave me…”

Her voice came out quieter than a whisper, her chapped lips barely moving.<”Never,”> the giant said in a heartbeat. <”Never.”> he repeated, reassuring her as he continued to gently caress her hair. Once calmed, the giant glanced at the medic to his left and gave him a curt nod. Understanding the gesture to continue moving, the medic nodded back at the giant as he continued to slowly push the repulsorlift stretcher again. Walking beside his daughter with her hand still within his gentle grasp, the giant reached for an empty data-stick from one of his pockets with his free hand. Puckering his lips, the giant whistled to get Omen’s attention. Drawing the data-stick from his right back pouch, the giant chucked it at the Jango Clone after getting his attention, just before stepping out the laboratory.

<”Omen, go through the computers in the lab and extract any and all research data accumulated off of Gwyn,”> he said as they stepped into the hallway. <”Holovids, files, research reports and documents, experimentation sessions, everything,”> He had to know just what exactly they had done to her, even if what he would see and read would damn him. Maybe she had more injuries than what they have seen, and maybe there was a way of reversing some of the things they had done to her.

<”Come on, this way,”> the giant directed those around them, throwing a knife hand forward. Having memorized the layout of the entire facility, the giant would be leading the squads to the hangar in the storage area of the space station for extraction by taking the shortest path there. <”Package secure,”> The giant got in touch with his squad over the comlink, the half that remained on guard in the station’s command centre in particular. <”Moving to extraction. Regroup at the extraction point. Meet you there.”>

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Spoiler: Translations and Abbreviations

[1] Alor’ad = Captain.
[2] Buy’ce = Helmet.
[3] Spacing = The act of blowing someone out the airlock of a space faring vessel into the unending void. An execution/death sentence.

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