Taming the Icy Hell (OS Dominion of Vullain)

[Rookie]

[10|20]
[ESCAPE TO THE SURFACE]

"Do you think the Sith did this on purpose..."

"I mean, the cave in..."

Meena's voice reached out to her squad mates. She was met mostly with a chorus of affirmations, many of the soldiers of the mind that the Empire would, of course, cause such a calamity. The glum procession descended the tunnel slowly, careful to check the integrity of the surface at each turn, moving in formation, each step orchestrated by the experienced commander. No stranger to war, Commander Rusk personally spearheaded the call to arms in response to the impending Imperial occupation. A gaunt man, weathered eyes peering out from below a neatly trimmed auburn crown. Taking point -Rusk always took point- he slowly rounded a corner before a sharp descent began in the ice tunnel. Examining the strength of the distress signal alone had told the Rebels how far down any survivors could have been, so such a sharp decline was inevitable unless these caves coiled around for miles and miles.

Following her comrades, Meena strapped the metallic casings to her boots and secured herself against the wall with the squad's guide wire. Vertigo almost took her when she peered from the edge of the cavernous descent, bottom invisible through walls of shadow. Clutching tightly to her safety line, she closed her eyes and thought of home. Somewhere her husband was serving his planet as well, it comforted her to know he was likely in a well guarded hospital somewhere remote. Surely, if the Sith wanted to maintain this planet as a strategic position, they would likely spare much of the infrastructure. One foot after the other, she dug her feet into the sharp gradient, taking her time to watch the man in front of her and make the climb less arduous by using the foot holds he had made. Even with her efforts, when they reached level ground again, she found her arms and legs aching.

"Cava, how are the signals looking?" Meena had only a few seconds to herself before the assertive command snapped her attention to Rusk. She fumbled at her side, taking a holopad from her pocket and swiping through a backlog of alerts.

"They're not far, Commander," She cooed, rotating her map and catching the signal again. Since the long plunge, the signal strength had grown nearly four hundred percent. They were homing in.

Though far beneath the planet's surface, the slick, icy walls served perfectly to reflect much of the light from the surface. Faint strands of illumination caused the walls of the cave to sparkle radiantly. In awe, Meena marched in formation, watching Commander Rusk's footsteps carefully, mimicking his stern gait. Several minutes passed and Meena glanced down to the holopad again before letting out a sudden exhale to catch Rusk's attention. He turned, eyes transfixing on his soldier. Nodding, Meena gestured to her right with her chin, eliciting a quick confirmation from the Commander.

Rusk came to the opening first, laying eyes on the carnage of the nesting grounds. He stopped in his tracks and veered back around the corner, peering out again to make sure nothing moved. With relative safety assured, he gestured for the men behind him to stay before pointing at the closest Rebel and motioning him to his side. Immediately, Rusk's eyes fell upon the torn remains of Rebel soldiers. Unrecognizable heaps of gristle and pulp, ravaged entirely by the beasts who dwell beneath the earth. Cautiously, he approached the center of the room, the second soldier following him and careening to the left wall. Rusk panned his gaze across the gallery of butchered remains. Blaster wounds and deep, precise incisions covered the bodies of several creatures while others were simply hacked to pieces. Rounding the body of a fallen behemoth, Rusk grasped the radio on his shoulder.

"Everyone, move in,"

"There are no survivors here,"

Meena took one deep breath. She followed in formation, hopping down the small ledge into the main expanse. Shivering with fear and cold, she tried her best not to think about what transpired here, the pain each of these men must have felt in their final moments weighed heavy in the air, drowning the chamber in melancholy. She watched as Rusk methodically searched each Rebel corpse for identifiable heirlooms or tags, plucking precious trinkets from the deceased which would one day identify them. Spying intact remnants, Rusk looked towards his feet. A small lump of white neatly camouflaged against the ice. He nudged at the small pile with his foot and examined it. His eyes widened when he saw the lightsaber beneath the corpse's open fingers. As far as he knew, the Jedi had sent no aid to Vullain, which meant the remains belonged to a Sith. Scowling, Rusk lowered to one knee and carefully reached for the hilt of the weapon.

On the far side of the cavern, Meena surveyed the backs of the squad. Silent as the crypt, she heard nothing as the Vong rose to a crouch behind her. Tendrils slithered upwards in unison, each one painstakingly finding their place before they struck. Two digits snapped for her throat, encircling her neck and mouth together and gripping tightly. Pain seared through her cheeks, bones cracking under the pressure. Muffled screams met with deaf ears, nearly silenced by the thick appendage wrapped around her mouth. A third tendril scooped under her arm, constricting it and pulling it behind her back. The Vong tugged hard, pulling her over the tail of the beast he lay dormant beside, and mounted her, pinning her to the ice. Meena's eyes shot open in horror as Yun leaned close. She felt the clamp on her head tighten more and her vision blurred, blacking out the moment her spine buckled.

Yun reached his left hand for the Rebel's belt, pulling free a blaster pistol and rising to his feet. He leveled the barrel forwards, ready to cover his ally, desperate to leave.

[member="Iziz"]

 

[Catalys Maijora]

The blizzards blew violently away in the distance, and the bitter cold began to haunt the agent's senses. Beneath his armour, his fingertips grew numb and his legs tingled slightly. His HUD display showed nothing dangerous, but long-term exposure meant suffering frost bite should he remain out here for more than an hour more at most. The vast emptiness shrouded the truth of this planet, there was far more on this world than meets the eye. Whether or not Catalys would eventually find something was yet to be seen.

His armoured boots stepped across the frozen surface, the ground bearing no soft snow on the surface, suggesting it had been quite some time since it was touched by a storm. This was either very good, or very bad. Since he was not an expert meteorologist, there was no telling when the next storm would arrive. "Do you read me?" He attempted to send a message back to his vessel, making sure he remained in range.

"Loud and clear," responded the comms officer. Thankfully Catalys was still in range, and should anything happen extraction would be a simple matter. Even if it was storming, the might of the Caisson-class transport would not be easily hindered by rough winds and blinding snowfall. The Umbaran ventured further off, and began hooking around to circle back to his ship.

[02/20]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

(3/20)
Objective: A Silent Kill.
Location: Victim’s apartment

Like a dog on a leash, he trailed behind her. Light embraced her form and shimmered off the short silk robes as she stepped out onto the 'balcony'. Unlike the balconies she had generally seen around the galaxy, this one was entirely encased in a transparent force-field that kept the cold of the frozen landscape out. It also kept out intruders and bullets, hence the Rattataki's alternative approach to the household.

The view from the balcony was truly splendid. White-frozen tundras stretched out in the distance. Ophidia thought for a moment it looked as though the planet was casting a certain ambient light. Of course, she knew it was simply the frost and snow reflecting light. Yet, there was a certain beauty to it. She did not view this light like she viewed the metaphorical "light" of the Force. This planet adhered perfectly to her view of the galaxy as a cruel place. Vullain cast no light, but held a beautiful, frosted mask to cover its rightful cruelty. This made her feel some kinship with the planet. Perhaps, indeed, she would spend more time here once it fell into the hands of the One Sith.

She traced her fingertips over the inside of the force-field, sending a ripple throughout its form, and a sting of pain through her nervous system. The tip of her finger burned a little, sending a minute plume of smoke scathing along the inside of the bubble. He did not seem to notice, and reached out towards her shoulders. His clammy touch sent a shudder down her spine and violent urges to her fist. Yet, she kept her composure.

"Stand here, let me see you in the natural light."

She swapped places with him in an elegant whirl. Her eyes locked with his as her false smile turned far more genuine, and far more sinister.

"No filter."

The male halted in his pose as the words started to sink in, and Ophidia's hand reached out to the control panel. For a split second, fear gripped him and combated her control of his mind. Then, the Sith Lord punched the off-button on the panel. The shield dissipated, and the arctic wind penetrated in full. Ophidia had to brace herself lest she was pulled with. He, far heavier than her, still stood, albeit struggling against the howling wind. Once more, she reached into his mind, penetrated through the fog of panic and issued a single order: Jump.

 

[Darth Timoris]

[Post=17/20]

"I know. All this technology...but it's all hidden, all underground. There's something wrong about it."

"You see?" the man said charmingly. "We have a lot in common."

"We're both carbon-based life forms," replied Nubica, "That's all." They took a small troop transport to the coordinates indicated and found themselves standing in the middle of a patch of desert composed of nothing but drifting sand, save for one feature.

"The cache must be below that stalagmite,"she said, "Let's go."

"I don't suppose it would do any good to suggest waiting until some troopers arrive as reinforcements?"

"No, it wouldn't," she said, with a grim smile. "I don't want to give her any more time."

"At least I got a smile out of you," he said, following her footprints in the sand. "That's a start."

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Post 1 of 20
Objective: Soul Searching
Location: Glacial Valley

Small boots crunched down through the snow and ice.

The boy had pointed himself in the furthest direction from the Jedi. Republic Jedi. Silver Jedi. Jedi Jedi. It didn't matter. He needed to go somewhere to clear his head. And he was Pantoran, so he'd ventured for the coldest rock he could find. The ship was at least five kilometers back, and probably under at least that amount of snow already.

He'd left the amphistaff behind. She really hated the cold, but more than that he just wanted to be alone.

He wasn't carrying a lightsaber. He'd never wanted one of those things, but had been forced by his master to carry it. Because he'd been a slave to Darth Scorpius, and it was to bolster his image. It had nothing to do with Boo, or what he wanted. It had purely been to make the Dark Lord look good. And, to who? Jedi? That had just been so much pandering to one Sith's ego.

Or even the Jedi's ego. The boy had journeyed to Rhen Var. Taken two padawans with him. Stalked through the snow and ice, much like now, and let the Force test him until he'd come away with a pontite crystal that had been appropriately blue for the boy's attempted life as a Jedi Guardian.

Except, he wasn't a Jedi. He never had been.

He'd been taken by the Sith as a child. Raised by the Sith. Trained by the Sith. To be what they wanted. To do what they wanted.

The more he tried to fight the future, the more he realized he really was a monster. The monster they'd made him out to be. Not prayer or the Primeval, not the Silver Jedi and their Code... nothing could change what he was. Who he was.

Even if it wasn't who he wanted to be.

 

[Froste]

Objective: Pull information from the rebels
Post:[4/20]

Cole continued on with his mental torture of his prisoner. The man was writhing with pain, unable to expel Cole from his mind. Suddenly, Cole stopped. He opened his eyes and scanned the two rebel soldiers. He first looked at the rebel on the left, the one he had tortured. The man was sweating, and his eyes staring widely at Cole with fear. The other still seemed to believe he could withstand Cole's presence. Cole, however, refused to believe that the man was completely unfazed by his friend and comrade feeling a great deal of pain over seemingly nothing. Perhaps he never will feel the pain himself. His friend very well may tell me some information and I can end everything now. Cole brought himself to his feet, only to take a few steps and crouch down once more in front of the rebel to the left. "Did you enjoy that, my friend?" He let his smile creep back up to his lips as he awaited the reply. When no reply was given, Cole stood and brought one foot up. Then, the Sith Acolyte forcefully planted his foot in the man's chest, quickly knocking him to his back. "There is no point in trying to hold any amount of pride, scum. If you do not simply tell me any information, I will have to forcefully take it from your mind. Of course, after I do that I will need to shatter it; leaving it in fragments." Cole kept his smile. He wasn't really sure if he was able to do the last action he had mentioned, but he figured the rebel wouldn't know any better.

Still, the rebel refused to give any information by mouth. "You've forced my hand here. I can do nothing but bring pain when you are not cooperating." Cole moved back to the spot he was earlier, when he first showed the rebel what he could do with just his mind. Cole shut his eyes and started again with the process. However, instead of simply staying on the outside this time, Cole began to attempt to enter the mind of his victim. He prodded and probed the man's conscious, trying to find a weak spot. It did not take very long for Cole to find an entrance into the poor soul's mind. And once inside, Cole began the tedious task of searching through memories in order to find something worthwhile.

 

[Catalys Maijora]

The further he walked to circle back, the more the night's storm assaulted him. Catalys could now hear the beeps and warnings as his armour's systems were going critical. He could withstand perhaps another thirty-to-forty minutes before he'd be forced to request evac. Just as he were about to push himself forward, he noticed movement in the distance. Even the Umbaran's eyes could not see who or what it was.

Ducking down behind a rock, Catalys peered over the other side to see if the entity had ventured around the icy boulder that landed itself dead in the center of this field. Slowly his hand reached down to the hip holster where he kept his blaster, the restraint snapped off easily as he lifted the weapon back and drew it.

Stepping out from behind cover, the agent's feet pressed swiftly through the fresh layer of snow; allowing him to maneuver around the other side and hopefully catch the stranger off guard.

Of course he didn't expect to find a person, more so than an animal or beast. However; being the predator that he was, Catalys could not allow himself to be the victim of ambush.

[03/20]

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Post 2 of 20
Objective: Soul Searching
Location: Glacial Valley

The storm buffeted his body.

Was it some facet of his Pantoran physiology? Some aspect of his physical constitution? A part of his psyche that refused to let the environment bear him to knees? Whatever the case, the boy pressed on. In many cases, sinking to the waist as he allowed himself to become lost in the blizzard. Everything around him was shadow and light. Any direction the same as the next.

Snow and ice.

Nowhere to be. Nowhere he belonged. Just ambling forward for lack of anything else to do. He couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. Perhaps his problem was that he didn't even know how to stop...

Aye, there's the rub. Even when he had lived with Jedi, studied with Jedi, attempted to emulate the Jedi... he could no more cease who he was than he could cease breathing. The Dark Side. The Sith. They were what had enabled him to survive. To overcome. Only by embracing his feelings had he found strength. Achieved victory. It was the Sith Code.

He knew it. He'd been made to learn it. Repeat it.

He had no awareness of anything. His focus was internal. If there was some manner of beast or man out in this hellish hail of winter, more power to them. The boy could not have been arsed to have cared.

[member="Catalys Maijora"]​

 

[Catalys Maijora]

Continuing his predatory crouch, he snuck through only to have fell once as the knee joint in his armour jammed. Smacking the knee with the side of his blaster did the trick, the ice crystals shattered and he had enough flexibility to get up and continue. As Catalys did continue, he noticed that during his brief fall whoever or whatever he had been stalking had already gone, but they couldn't have been far.

When he approached the area they once were, he noticed footprints--albeit quickly filling in already--and hounded after its source. By the shape, it they were small and humanoid; which led him to wonder who he was after. Perhaps a shorter species? Yet so few small species were able to endure the cold, and he knew not of one native to this world.

Taking a few steps further, he once more picked up on the source. A smallish, humanoid figure drove through the cold at a sluggish pace.

Quickening his own pace, Catalys pushed himself forward and hunkered himself as to avoid detection... Hoping to take whoever it was by surprise, and prevent an unwanted firefight in doing so.

[04/20]

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Post 3 of 20
Objective: Soul Searching
Location: Glacial Valley

Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force will set me free.

Remember, a Sith respects the power of the words.​

Halting, the boy raised an arm in order to shield his eyes from the stinging rain of hail and ice. Squinting against the shadow and light, he was startled to see the image of a man standing before him. A Dark Lord of the Sith. A man he'd stolen from. A man he'd murdered.

A man... he owed a great deal to.

You will go to Coruscant.​

How was this possible? Darth Scorpius was dead. And, yet, the presence before him was seemingly both intangible and yet... real. "Master?" the boy asked, taking a step forward even as he hesitated. The ice had built up along his arms. His hair and eyelashes having become frozen.

I have use for you there.​

With those words, the presence was suddenly gone.

And, in it's place, a new one suddenly leapt out at the boy.

[member="Catalys Maijora"]​

 

[Catalys Maijora]

Rising up from his crouch, and with the barrel of his blaster pointed dead between the Pantoran's eyes, Catalys stood before Boo.

"Try anything and I won't hesitate," the voice modulator in his helmet made sure the boy would most certainly hear his words. The Umbaran's eyes squinted, yet the Pantoran's face was not recognizable in the storm, at least not from where he was standing.

It had been some time since Boo had left the Bleeding Sun, and only recently did Catalys leave the Primeval. Although the Bleeding Sun fell; what remained of them and their ideals was carried on by the agent yet.

Certainly the One Sith was perhaps not the best place for Catalys' ideals, but it was the only place that could foster them.

From Chaos, they brought Order.

[05/20]

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Post 4 of 20
Objective: Soul Searching
Location: Glacial Valley

Oh look, someone was pointing a blaster at him.

It must be Taungsday. Except, the voice. The armor. [color=#87CEEB"]"Catalys?"[/color]

The Pantoran wasn't sure at first, but the posture. The feel of the man's presence. It was definitely the Umbaran. [color=#87CEEB"]"I don't want you to hesitate,"[/color] the youngling said.

He'd imagined, back on Voss, meeting Catalys again. In his imagined reunion, the man had come to kill him. To spare the Primeval having an agent captured or party to persuasion by the Silver Jedi. Except it hadn't come to fruition. Catalys hadn't come. And, irony, they found each other here.

The boy took a step forward.

[member="Catalys Maijora"]​

 

[Catalys Maijora]

Catalys relinquished his posture, pulling the blaster back and quickly holstering the weapon.

He recalled now the times he and Boo fought side-by-side, but couldn't say he was rather fond of them. That was partially due to the nature of the Bleeding Sun. It wasn't a place of comradeship or loyalty; it was every man and their mission. Should one have to, killing another agent to succeed was respectable to many. "You," he said plainly.

"I thought you had died," clearly he had no idea the young Pantoran had betrayed them. Certainly someone did, but that someone must've took pity on the boy and let him go.

The secrets he held in his head... Were they even worth spilling? The Primeval didn't exactly make it a mission to keep secrets... It was no secret when they razed worlds or slaughtered a species en masse.

Catalys stood there silently. Nothing more to say just yet.

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

[06/20]

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Post 5 of 20
Objective: Soul Searching
Location: Glacial Valley

The boy stopped, seemingly disappointed as the Umbaran put the blaster away.

No, he wasn't dead. Dying would have been a lot simpler. Lifting his head back up, the boy continued the next couple of steps until he was within arm's reach of the man. And then, the boy reached out to give him a hug.

There were very little people in his life who were seemingly part of it. Most of the people he interacted with breezed into his life one moment, and then out the next. Some pretended to care, most didn't even do that much. But Catalys was one individual who'd always just been there, in the background. Overseeing training. Assigning missions. Making sure he got debriefed.

More than a few times, making sure the youngling ate something.

It was all part and parcel of just how a boy like Boo was as messed up in the head as he was. The one stable figure in his life was another agent and assassin. Taking a step away from the Umbaran, the boy looked up as he asked, "What are you doing out here?" He was Umbaran. This was probably hell to him.

Reaching up, the boy took hold of the choker around his neck. It was a Sasori device, a substitute for environmental gear. As he passed it over toward the man, the boy channeled a bit of the Force into the gems that would power it, at least temporarily. "Here, put this on." The field generated by the circlet might not be enough to withstand all the pressures of this storm, but it would at least keep the armor from freezing up.

"Want me to have ArThree bring the ship over here?"

Seriously, what was an agent doing out here? This was the middle of nowhere! If someone had some super villain legion of doom chit out here, more power to them. Drop a bunker buster from low orbit and call it a day. Standing out here in that armor was only going to turn the Umbaran into an ice sculpture.

[member="Catalys Maijora"]​

 

[Iziz]

[10 // 20]
[ESCAPE!]

Iziz could hear the heavy frosted foot-steps marching forward, he could smell the human sweat under the heated clothing they wore as well as the complete lack of pheremonal fear which was on the body of the man who approached him. This man was special, a veteran, he was going to be an interesting man to fight, it was not uncommon for a man to be able to fight with a Sith for some time in a duel, but this man in particular had men with him to back him up. Iziz felt the warmth of his presence radiate over him as the man knelt down for the light-saber, caution could be smelt on the wind, and the man was right to be cautious, his instincts were keen, learned from years of service and the Jawa respected every one of them.

After all, he was a survivor.

Iziz would allow him to grip the hilt of his blade, picking it up and inspecting the strange three way manual gearbox which zig-zagged outwards from the center to either side, resting nicely where the thumb would sit when gripped. The composition of the blade was elegant, but short, it was hard for the man to grip in his hand, the hilt so small that with his military gloves on he would only be able to fit three fingers through the loop where the guard would sit, impossible for a man to wield with comfort or strength, but it was a prize none the less... There was a pause, as Iziz felt the presence of one of the rebels begin to fade, so, it was time to strike now, the Jawa would do so with a furious abandon which he doubted many would be able to stand up against.

A chilling inhale was breathed along the frigid earth.

Both palms flat on the ground Iziz pushed down, throwing himself into the air with telekinesis, whipping himself into a tornado as his tail extended to its full length, erecting the plasmic blade, raw, drawing in the life force of those around it passively as well as the life force of Iziz and the spirit within itself, feeding on their power as it roared like a lion through the air moving at the advanced speed it did. Landing on the ground and sweeping the full length of his tail at speed for the commander, the commander only barely managed a diving roll out of the Jawa's assault path... Tucking his shoulder into a forward roll the tail slammed down into the earth vertically with a second blow, cracking the ice with the force from the momentum and narrowly missing the commander again.

Panic took the room.

Bolts from a rebel blaster pistol crashed into several of the rebels while they were distracted which turned their attention once more to the new entrant, who seemed to have crushed the life out of the woman who had but a moment ago been held tightly in his grasp. Iziz charged for the battle-lines, leaving the commander behind him. He was one man, and a single man did not match up for the danger of a firing squad no matter how good he was, Iziz could not allow these rebels to fall back and gain the upper hand. Charging them head first with force enhanced speed the Shadow of Ferus was upon them, no light-sabers in his hands, bearing only the weapon that was attached to his tail, as well as the hidden blade attached to his fore-arm as part of the Sith Assassin Raiment.

And he was upon them...

Getting in the middle of two of them, the Jawa spun on all fours, putting the lightsaber blade through two of the knees of one of the female soldiers, following through and whipping the tail up high for the second one's neck. He was closer, too close for the blade to remove the head from his body, so, rather than merely cut through, the tail coiled around his neck and began to crush tightly like a python readying to devour its prey, causing his hand to death grip on the trigger of his blaster in surprise. Iziz used the spin force and the grip of his tail to swing around the man, angling the rebels own blaster which fired wildly into the crowd, wounding two and killing one of the group. From behind the man at the apex of his swing, the Jawa heard a satisfying snap as the man's arms went limp and he fell to the ground.

Rolling out of the swing Iziz leaped to his feet and continued to run, keeping low to the ground and moving swiftly on all fours as he targetted the next group who hid behind one of the Dragonic mothers they had fought before. Charging head-first for their cover as they fumbled for their weapons in fear. They thought they were facing down two sith, an abomination and its master... stories ran through the minds of the trained civilians as Iziz was upon them. Just as one of them turned to aim and fire with a blaster rifle, Iziz was leaping for her at shoulder height, catching her by the chest as his hidden blade ejected through her heart's nerve cluster, killing the woman instantly and leaving her medically dead before she hit the ground.

Screams erupted from the small group, hidden from sight... Iziz had killed four of them in total and wounded a few...

they would be rallying now...

The fight was about to begin.

[member="Rookie"]

 

[Catalys Maijora]

The hug was unexpected. Catalys stood there like a statue, silently as the gesture passed over.

Catalys accepted the device Boo handed to him, putting it around his neck as instructed. Almost instantly the icy crystals around his armour began to melt, and he slowly felt more comfortable with his surroundings. Although he wanted to ask more about it, the agent knew it was best to remain silent... At least on those matters.

"I have my own ship; not too far from here." He stated softly, his voice modulator only masking that softness.

It was truly surreal, to find Boo Chiyo all the way out here in what was essentially "no man's land." He had many questions to ask, but once more he didn't feel it an appropriate time.

Instead, Catalys simply began walking. "Let's go," as if they were still fellow agents in the Bleeding Sun.

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

[07/20]

 

[Rookie]

[11|20]
[ESCAPE TO THE SURFACE]

Keen eyes looked on as Iziz began to dismantle the Rebel soldiers in his vicinity. Even following such tremendous trials, the Jawa's speed and finesse was astounding. He darted effortlessly, swinging with the mighty limb extending from his back, cutting down any resistance in his path. Pulling away from the massacre, Yun wheeled about and headed for the entrance the soldiers emerged from. He could hear footsteps echoing from the cave as the remaining Rebels prepared to cover their comrades. Closer than they were to the entrance, Yun jumped, planting his shaper hand on the mouth of the ridge and tugging himself to his feet. He rounded the corner, the shapes of Rebel soldiers clouding his view. Barely taking a second to examine the men, Shaper tendrils lashed angrily for the closest target, constricting his arm and pulling him towards the Vong.

Startled, blaster rifles focused on the Shaper. Pulling the soldier to his body, Yun's left arm wrapped around the soldier's neck, tentacles forcing the man's arm and rifle upwards towards his fellows. The Rebels paused, unsure for a moment whether to open fire or not. Taking his opportunity, Yun tossed his prisoner forward hard, unwrapping his arm from the man's throat and seizing a long combat knife from the shoulder of his armor. Capitalizing on the confusion, the Vong darted towards the group. Right arm raising, tendrils swung for the faces of the men, pummeling their chins and sending the group recoiling further.

Ducking low, Yun pounced forward, knife in hand. He met his mark and rode the first soldier to the floor. Clutching his blade tightly, the dagger hung aloft above the man's eye and plunged down. Yun's side was met with a sharp pain as one of the Rebels kicked hard into his ribs. Wrestling the blade free of the skull, Yun rolled to the side and came up to a knee. From his hand, spears extended, puncturing the assailant's torso and shoulders. The Vong sprung back to movement, cautious of remaining still for too long. In such a confined space, as long as he kept on the move, a clear shot would be unlikely if not outright impossible. He came upon the soldier like thunder, ramming his shoulder into the man's pained body and carrying him to the wall. Yun whipped around, digits deftly plucking the blaster rifle from the Rebel's hands and holding down the trigger. He spun the weapon in a wide arc but without any thought to his aim, only a single projectile glanced off the thigh of another solider. Thankfully the wide angle of his assault caused the remaining fighter's to back away.

Yun inhaled sharply through gritted teeth and took off down the length of the winding cavern. After seconds, he could hear the panicked footfalls of soldiers following him. Yun stopped as he rounded a bend and pressed his back firmly to the wall. The first Rebel screamed around the corner, sprinting clean past the Vong. Utilizing his tentacles once more, they shot forth and grabbed at the man's ankles, sending him hard into the ice. His position given away, the Rebels following suit took a wide berth around the corner. Knife in hand, Yun cut down for the closest target. His blade met with the barrel of a rifle and he swung again, unleashing a string of blows for his prey's torso, each one glancing off the edge of the rifle as the soldier maneuvered his weapon to block Yun's strikes. The Shaper lept backwards, narrowly avoiding a burst of blaster fire, and reached out with his tendrils. He gripped the rifle of the first target hard, prying it free of its owner and swinging it brutally to the right, barrel connecting with the chin of another fighter. Bone snapped, blood pouring from the victim's broken jaw.

In a flash, Yun took off the way he came, back towards the inner chamber. Shoulder to shoulder, the Vong pushed past the frazzled troops. Right leg extending, Yun stopped moving his feet, the gentle decline and slick nature of the ice allowing him to slide forward, covering a considerable distance. Having thinned the reinforcements somewhat, Yun burst back into the central cavern, leaping from the mouth of the cave into a long roll off his right shoulder. He stood and stumbled forward, dropping the blaster rifle to steady himself with his Shaper hand. Iziz' work was swift, he had already taken apart many of the Rebels crowding the room. The Commander in his sights, Yun ran for the man's back. The veteran spun, hearing the approaching enemy and raised his arms. Yun opened by leaping forward, tendrils extending to clutch the man's frame and tackle him to the ice. Briskly, the commander left his position, dodging Yun who rolled forward and spun to face him. By the time the Vong had his gaze on the Commander again, the man's boot met with his jaw, sending the Shaper hard into the ground.

Rusk reached to his belt, producing a blaster pistol and leveling it at the Vong. Yun rolled left, pushing himself to his feet with the strength of his tentacles and darted behind the remains of a female wyrven. Yun breathed heavily, left hand clutching firmly at his jaw in an effort to curb the pain. Now that both Sith were on the same side of the cavern, the commander's backup would arrive. The remaining men stormed, one by one, from the passage to the surface and took positions behind their commander. Yun glanced to the Jawa, hoping to catch his gaze long enough to pitch his chin upwards, attempting to signal the assassin to go high.

Yun was certain the pair could end these Rebels now and earn their freedom. Whether Iziz got the gist or not, the Vong prepared to follow his ally into the final confrontation.

[member="Iziz"]

 

[Darth Timoris]

[Post=18/20]

The stalagmite was a massive protuberance of rock created when the planet was in its-birth throes thousands of centuries earlier. Despite its age, its surface seemed as rocky and barren as the day it was formed.

"There must be an access point," she said, moving slowly along the slab of rock, her fingers running over its craggy surface. "Yes, look here."

She moved toward a surface of rock then, seemingly, through it and was gone.

"Hey!" said the man, rapidly approaching the same spot and finding nothing. "Where are you, Angel?"

"Here - and call me Angel again and it'll be your last words," came Timoris' voice, echoing in the darkness. He shone his torch on the area, and saw that what seemed to be a natural curve of rock was actually two layers, concealing a nar row cut of space between them, She looked up at the beam of light that danced before her. "Come down," she said, "The doctor's got to be down here. And put out that light, it'll take that much longer for your eyes to adjust." He obliged, reluctantly. The crevice was a tight fit, even for his lean build.

Once past the entrance the crevice widened, giving onto a fairly large corridor of natural volcanic rock. "A perfect hiding place," he said, his voice echoing off the walls. "You could hide anything down here."

"That's what I'm banking on," came her solemn reply. "Let's keep the lights off, and the noise, to a minimum."

 

[Sinistra]

1/20

Sinistra was pissed. There were two reasons for her anger at this juncture, and neither one was pleasant. Firstly, she was thoroughly pissed that she had never bothered with the study of tapas. There wasn't enough gear in the galaxy she could put on to be warm on this frozen rock.

Secondly, Fela was missing. The young Firrerreo had never reported in for the mission she had been assigned and Sinistra had no indication that the girl had been killed. She just vanished. Fela had finally gotten smart to her predicament. And so now Sinistra was out a good agent. Aurek and Arian were not even close to being ready for the responsibility.

So rather than sending her best agent, Sinistra was here herself, with Dawson slicing into the system of a mining corporation to follow their revenue stream. The trail was leading some interesting places from her initial investigation into Lan Porgata from the IGBC. Dawson nodded that the traces were working. The sooner they were done, the sooner Sinistra could boil herself in a hot tub of bubbly water with a glass of whiskey.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

(4/20)
Objective: A Silent Kill.
Location: Victim’s apartment

He struggled this time, holding on for his dear life against the physical pressure of the wind and the mental pressure of Ophidia's command. After a handful of seconds that seemed to stretch on into minutes, his body stiffened. With a swift turn, the obese manchild made a swan-dive from the balcony. He fell long, far, fast, and just in time for it to sink in, Ophidia released his mind. He was just able to understand the predicament of his falling form before he was smashed upon the frozen pavement. From her position, Ophidia thought he looked rather like someone had dropped a pudding from the table.

To avoid being seen, she slipped back into the room and pulled the robes tightly around her slender form. The wind was now howling like a mad flute-player, blowing on the key-hole that was the balcony. The blood was already beginning to freeze over, and Ophidia knew it was time she cleaned up and left the right tracks.

First, the suicide note. She had prepared it in advance with an excruciating attention to the details. Then, the will, signing over all the family funds and estate to the right account. She had even made sure he signed it himself. Next, she would have to disappear. Ophidia's eyes turned to the bloody footprints on the floor, and a sigh escaped her mouth. Perhaps it would be easier to torch the place? Indeed, that would probably remove the most evidence, but also the will and note. She stood in thought for another few seconds.

When in doubt, use the Force. The Sith Lord adopted a wider stance and closed her eyes. Mist billowed from her mouth as she exhaled to focus. Passions burned within her as she reached into her passions, the pain of the cold, the need. Fingers stretched out, the floor seemed to quake beneath her; the frosted blood begun to diffuse and lift from the floor. She peeled it off, compacted it in the air like she had done with her foes before, and sent it out into the wind.

Eyes opened and another exhale brought her back to her own. Once more, vapour erupted from her mouth and nose into the cold air. Her once grey eyes were now burning like embers, and the skin was cracked with visible corruption. The scar left along her spine after Contruum reached up her neck like frost or fingers of dark smoke. She wiped her feet to ensure she did not leave any more bloody footprints. The silk robe was packed away and a new, far warmer set was donned.

Bringing her hands to her centre, she focused on the light around her, photokinetic manipulation, and she was gone. Behind her was the tragic murder-suicide of a politician's son. He cracked under his father's pressure, then tortured and killed his family before jumping to his death. The police would search for a recent lover, but would find none. A few days later, a corpse would pop up in the outskirts of town. Charred to a crisp with a single stab-wound to the abdomen. Tests would reveal it to have been dead, burned and dumped only a day before the suicide.