Faction The Curse of Hamunaptra

[Matma Bernu]

Shortleaf Village
Frenier Delta

Okay, so clearly I'm not this gentleman's biggest fan.

A lifetime of ingrained Chiss stoicism is the only thing that kept me from visibly showing my discomfort- Laurier was an intimidating sight, to be sure. "I believe your quite right, Sheriff- we don't want them to find us. In fact, we need to find them ASAPedly. It's paramount that we restrict their freedom of movement." I looked up at him. "That means we need to work together, Sheriff."

I quickly motioned for a data-pad, and a trooper handed one to me. Deftly typing, I quickly pulled up a visual of the Delta, zooming in on our location. "We're about 2 klicks away from the last known markers of the squads. That's not that far away from the quarantine centers. Our job is get an idea of the fates of these men- then, we can regroup, and bring the hammer down."

As I spoke, I felt that feeling of wrongness- the Dark Side- get stronger. At this point, I felt like I was trapped in a sieve- like the walls were closing in all around me. Struggling to maintain my composure, I opened myself up to the Force. Downstream, I felt darkness enveloping light. Now, closing to the centers, I felt like a man with a candle- the shadows looming, dancing, playing tricks on my mind.

"We...we need to go right no-", I struggled to get out. Even in the darkness, I felt things moving. Moving through the trees. Moving in the water. They hungered.

Then the Force screamed at me, and years of practiced, military composure went out the window. The message was clear.

Danger.

"CONTACT", I screamed, whirling around to the speeder pad, my hand grasping for the first weapon it could find- in this instance the silver hilt on my belt. I thumbed the switch.

Snap-hiss.

That's when everything went straight to hell.


Resurgent Narrative

 

[Firenne Van-Derveld]

Location: Dig Site Aurebesh
Soundtrack: Shinedown "Monsters"
Wearing: Light battle armor
Equipment: Archaeological tools
Armament: Lightsaber, Tactical Karambit
Tags: Kurayami Bloodborn | Ciara Lockley | Elisea Korrado
Nylea Apollodor | Audrey Saint George | Resurgent Narrative

Dark eyes cast over the undulating sands as the speeder made it's approach to the dig site. The woman looked poised and ready, though inside there was a measure of uncertainty lingering. It was a tiny kernel of doubt, present since she'd fled Confederacy space with a host of nameless enemies on her heels. Well, they had names, but they didn't deserve to be brought to the light of day again. Those whom she'd thought to be friends and allies had turned out to be...something else entirely. It was a disappointing lesson, but one she'd taken to heart.

Firenne had run until she'd found her way to Dosuun, just before the Ssi-Ruuvi had struck their devastating blow. It was there she'd met Marionne Roule, the now Knight Commander, and forged a bond with the woman who gave her a place to belong when everything turned into a living hell. Shaking her head, the young woman returned to the present even as the echoes of those old memories slithered slowly back into the darkest corners of her mind. The speeder slowed in it's approach in an effort to kick up less sand near the dig site, and she canted her head to the side, slightly tipping it back as she breathed in deeply.

There was sand enough swirling through the air, tiny whirlwinds flitting about between the uncovered structures. It would have been strange had there not been other things intruding on her senses. She wrinkled her nose even as she growled faintly. There was something there, and her lupine side did not like it. Her Force sense didn't like it either, and the young woman unshackled it, allowing her senses to roam wide as the speeder came to a stop. Hopping out, she gathered her tool case and strode towards the hub of the activity. Director Saint George had already arrived and hailed the dig leader, a Ms. Lockley the Sentinel had not had the pleasure of meeting yet.

Remaining quiet, Firenne made her own approach, setting her tool case down nearby and withdrawing a leather-bound sketchbook and pencil. Cradling the book in one arm, she moved slightly closer to the pair of women, and waited politely for a moment to introduce herself. "I apologize if I'm interrupting, Imperial Sentinel Firenne Van-Derveld, at your service. How can I help?" Fi said softly with a politely proper tilt of her head.

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Nearing the site, he slowed the speeder as he started to pick up on a general sense of unease. It grew ever greater the closer he approached, yet still it was nothing in comparison to Dromund Kaas or Korriban, still it took no small amount of concentration to keep from allowing the feeling of impending doom to take hold. Such was the nature of the Dark Side and Kurayami knew it was possible that he would only encounter greater challenges the further he advanced. A deep breath helped restore the calm to his mind as he brought the speeder to a halt and disembarked. He reached into the saddlebag where he had stored the DC-17m and extra ammo, taking his time to place the extra ammo where it was easily accessible should it be needed.

Keeping a close on on the multiple readouts from the scanners on his suit, he also took note of a few nearby Force presences. They seemed to be concerned with Dig Site Aurebesh for the time being. Also noteworthy was the fact that the Dark Side felt stronger that way, a couple clicks northwest according to the map. Where he was didn't have a tag but seemed to have once been a temple or some other important structure. Approaching on foot the sense that something was wrong became nearly omnipresent in his mind. The feeling of death lingered here, lives ended violently. Clearly some of these were sacrificial as there was a strange peace to some of the impressions, but many more...recent ones were muddled by the feeling of absolute fear and terror.

A temple where once sacrifices to ancient and forgotten gods had taken place, but he still couldn't shake the feeling the more recent deaths were not natural nor were they sacrificial. His suspicion was reinforced further when he reached one of the tents that would have been used as a place for field testing for aging and cataloging of recovered artifacts. All the equipment was still here, and it seemed some terminals still flickered with almost completely empty power supplies, and yet there was not a single body to be seen anywhere. Even ground penetrating radar scans showed nothing in his immediate area.

"There might be something to these rumors after all...I'll be damned."

Slinging the rifle over his shoulder he grabbed his datapad and a link cable to try and upload at least some of the active terminal's data before it failed entirely. The transfer would take a couple minutes, but as of now he had plenty of time to wait.

Resurgent Narrative | Firenne Van-Derveld | Ciara Lockley | Elisea Korrado |@Nylea Apollodor | Audrey Saint George ​

 

[Audrey Saint George]

"Very good to meet you," said Audrey as she approached, once again placing her hat on her head. A quick pin kept it in place, despite the occasional breezes that swept across the dig site off the dunes. "Call me Audrey," she said as she came within speaking distance, her attention firmly fixed on the obelisk in front of her. Her dark eyes scanned the shapes engraved on it, mentally scouring her mental database. She couldn't quite place it, but primitive animal carvings seemed de rigeur for ancient civilizations.

"Hollow?" echoed Audrey doubtfully, her eyebrows knitting together. That didn't seem likely, but then again... "May I?" Audrey asked, gesturing towards the obelisk. She moved closer and, drawing her toolkit from her pocket, extracted a tiny hammer which she used to give the obelisk the slightest little tap. She glanced at Ciara. "I'll be darned. It does sound hollow. But — " She was distracted by her comlink chirping. She activated it, brows furrowing at the message that came from Elisea Korrado. She activated her response. "Very good, Ms. Korrado. Keep me posted."

Audrey tucked her tool away, then pulled her spectacles on and leaned closer to study it. "A tomb?" she murmured, running a gloved hand along the surface of the obelisk. "The obelisk itself, do you think? Or it indicates the presence of a burial complex nearby?" She took turned back to Ciara Lockley, an inquisitive look on her features.

It was by now that Dr. Saint George realized she and Ciara were not alone; she turned to Firenne Van-Derveld . "Ah — I apologize, Ms — that is, Imperial Sentinel... Van-Derveld. Do you, ah, do you know Ms. Lockley? Or is it Doctor Lockley? I'm so sorry, I'm — obviously distracted by this bizarre find."

 

[Ciara Lockley]

Audrey Saint George | Firenne Van-Derveld | Elisea Korrado
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Ciara nodded and flashed the woman a smile. It would be nice to have someone as prestigious as the Director of the Historical Recovery Division present. Not only was Ms. Lockley what one might call a novice when it came to archeology but she was also quickly reaching the end of her knowledge regarding such things as obelisks and artifacts. "Audrey it is." Stepping back, she watched as the woman gave the object a once over, repeating the 'hammer test' in her own fashion.

"It really could be - and if that's the case, it could explain some of the strange sounds that are carrying across the dunes to the town. Especially the way the wind floats across it. Here, let me try something." Marching purposefully towards a heavy piece of machinery near where the base of the supposed object was, she conversed momentarily with an archeologist standing beside it. A few moments passed and she came marching right back, the machinery whirring to life. "If my suspicion is correct, there's a base down there somewhere, and there we might find some sort of opening. If the sand shifts just right, the wind traveling through the base and out through here..." She trailed off, pointing towards a few before unnoticeable holes in the surface of the obelisk. "...It could explain why the locals think there's something haunted here."

It certainly wasn't the only answer but it could very well have been a clue. Back where she had conversed with the other archeologist another structure had begun to break free of the dune of sand. Pushed aside, it revealed what appeared to be two large stone doors, a large crack running down their center. "Ooh, how strange!" Ciara exclaimed, eyes falling next on another woman. "Oh, hello!" She let Audrey speak, introducing her until she was addressed. "Ciara's just fine." she said, sounding it out. "Kee-ruh". Nice to meet you!"

 

[Resurgent Narrative]

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:: Viper One this is Den, be alert reports of turned-Gators in your area, be advised. Commando-4 en route ::​

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A small detail of three commandos would be making their way to Viper One. Caceres only hoped they reached him in time, the Major was about to ask Lieutenant Shin for more details on those gators. At least until he heard something outside - like something that dropped. "Shin." He called out to his fellow stormtrooper. "Stay there." He pointed to the other side of the door. Den HQ had a platoon's worth of men that should have been stationed there and while most were out conducting their patrols and taking their task to heart. There was still a token force that remained, a squad - if you wanted to call it that. ​

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The grip over his F-11D tightened.​

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"On my count," he ordered and Shin nodded. "Three, two, one - GO!"​

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The two opened the door and rushed through met with the clamoring undead their blasters began to fire. ​

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:: Den to all units, we've been compromised, repeat, we have been compromised reroute to Nest. Repeat, all units reroute to Nest when tasks ar- ::​

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His comlink dropped as he fought off the Blackwing-infected. Flametrooper Galvan stepped up and lit the infected up drawing them away from the Major temporarily. Once more his F-11 went to work, as the smoke rose from the Den and the fires illuminated part of the Bayou. The squad regrouped on Shin and followed up to close ranks around Major Caceres.​

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"Oh- oh, uh," Cee Dee heard the Sarge ask about the power supply to the cannon and the PFC examined the wiring and placed his hands over the equipment and traced the power, and double-checked the cannon. "Y-yes, yes sir we're connected." He answered just as he relaxed into his seat and looked into his rangefinder. He heard the hatch shut which meant that Sarge was in the tank and they were ready for business. The familiar redlight bathed the interior of the tank and Cee Dee heard himself gulp audibly. It's gonna be okay, he thought to himself while also thinking about that lady he saw on the last outing. Saw? Heard? There were bats too, oh maybe he was going crazy. Cee Dee was half surprised to still be in the same crew and not chucked out some backwater office.​

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Then again, paperwork wasn't exactly easy these days since the Army wasn't quite sure where that went and tended to lose it half the time even if it was all mostly digital. Mostly. He steadied his hands over the gun's controls. The sound of the gun moving was something of a comfort to the young man and he reminded himself, "bb-best damn j-job, I e-ever had."​

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It was a saying that the tankers mentioned to themselves, after all, they got to sit inside a deadly tin can and be a certified conductor of death. All on behalf of the First Order. CD's uniform stuck to him something fierce, the humidity that was let in from before was now trapped and the heat from outside didn't help matters any. An alarm sprung up, but Pvt. Ozzel slapped it shut about as quickly as it shot on. Most likely cause of the trees, which were numerous this far into the bayou.​

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Sherriff Laurier was about to tell the two-bit blue punk where he could stick his orders. "Ain't no sense in runnin' boy," the Sherriff's creole accent came through toward the end of the sentence. "They've already found us, better put that glowstick to use." He gestured toward the Knight's lightsaber as he grabbed his own rifle. "We're about to have some company."​

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The sweet little town was now the latest to be overrun by the turned, the infected, and the undead. "You can walk and fight at the same time right?" The Sherriff wasn't keen on Force Users to start with but he knew that they could be useful in times like this. "I don't think those men we were lookin' for are men anymore." The backend of the Sherriff's rifle broke through one of the undead's neck, snapping it with a sickly crunch. "Best we can do now is get to the boat and get ta hell out of here and head on' down the river."​

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The boat was big enough for the Sherriff with just enough room for the knight. The pop-pop-pop sound of the rifle firing into at least three of the undead with unfathomable accuracy. "It's a damn turkey shoot, c'mon now, get to the boat I'm gonna radio this one in."​

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:: Badge, Badge, this is Big A - towns been overrun, takin' to the waters, keep clear repeat, keep clear ::​

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:: Roger Big A, this is Duracrete Pete we're ready for ya, badge, badge ::​

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The boat felt the weight of the Sherriff and the Knight, "keep us covered while I get our boat started." With a few mighty pulls on the motor, the boat came to life and the Sherriff pushed them away from the dock as he used his rifle like a baseball bat straight into one of the gangly humans. He tossed his rifle back into the boat and got to its wheel. "Just keep us from havin' any critters crawl aboard and I'll get us to the next town."​

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Matma Bernu | Caz Ozzel | Bellam Malhan | Ryker Atreides ​

 

[Vernon Hectis]

Frenier Delta
0825

The coarse groans of metal moving at great speeds filled their air of the interior of the transport. Only a crimson light illuminated the compartment, causing the usually white armor of the First Order Stormtroopers to appear red as the Sith would have them be. The troopers stood silently as they waited to be deployed. Among them, was DG-4582, Lieutenant of the Stormtrooper Corps. He was ready and awaiting his chance to get into action.

The mission was simple. Find any and all viable targets and take them out. Simple.

That is what he had hoped.

The crimson light above suddenly turned green and the rumbling of the transport came to a stop. Sunlight peeked into the transport as the bay doors opened up. Once the landing zone was fully revealed, DG-4582 quickly stormed out alongside his comrades. Once they were fully departed from the transport, they gathered around DG-4582 as he pulled up a holographic map of the area of operations.

"Several clicks west of here should be a well known path that the sick will likely attempt to use as escape. We will set up a checkpoint there. We'll also set up sentries here and here in case any spot the checkpoint and attempt another path off the main one. We must remain vigilant. If even one of the sick manage to slip through, many innocents will die. Understood? Good. Let's move."

Matma Bernu | Ryker Atreides | Bellam Malhan | Caz Ozzel ​

 

[Firenne Van-Derveld]

Location: Dig Site Aurebesh
Soundtrack: The Mummy (1999) - 'Imhotep'
Wearing: Light battle armor
Equipment: Archaeological tools
Armament: Lightsaber, Tactical Karambit
Tags: Audrey Saint George | Ciara Lockley

"Delighted to meet you both. Please feel free to call me Firenne...let's not stand on too much ceremony in light of such a find." the Sentinel said brightly, with a smile that warmed her features as she met each of their gazes. She approached the obelisk with her sketchbook, nose wrinkling slightly even as her fingers flew across the page with her pencil firmly grasped. Making note of the already available dimensions of the obelisk and the distances from other finds and known sites, she canted her head to the side.

The script on the massive double doors, and indeed, on the entire obelisk, was a rare dialect she was unfamiliar with. She flipped to a fresh page and made a detailed sketch of the doors and the inscriptions there, paying careful attention to the intricate rope and clay seal wrapped around the oddly utilitarian handles.

"I'm afraid that I find my knowledge a bit insufficient at this moment. I am familiar with later forms of this pictographic script, but this one eludes my ability to translate. Might I be so bold as to presume one of you is able to decipher this?" she added after several minutes, still sketching away in her book.

"A warning, perhaps? That would fit with the construction of the doors and the particular knot work of the rope..."

 

[Fevris Derzelas]

Location: Quarantine Center, Outside New Laveau.
Wearing: Hazmat suit.
Equipment: N-1 Bioscanner; Medical Supplies.
Armament: SE-14r repeating pistol.
Tagging: Resurgent Narrative (Commander Marasigan)

Fevris eyes were locked into the screen, watching how several lines of decoded genome sequences began to appear before being replaces by another one and another one as the system failed to pinpoint any potential weaknesses or failures to exploit, any aspect of the virus that could be vulnerable to known treatments or variations of it. At the same time, the Doctor's mind was also working alongside the computer, in case she could manage to find a fault that the machine missed. Even as she heard the decontamination gas chamber's noise indicating that somebody had walked in, she kept her gaze on the screen until she heard a voice.

The Doctor turned her head to the side to face the Dr. Marasigan, the head of the FIMS. She nodded in acknowledgement, a gesture made easily noticeable by the headpiece of the hazmat suit. "It is good to have you here, Commander." She said, before her eyes fell to the cooler that the Commander held between her hands which was placed on a nearby surface. Could that be their saving grace?

Indeed, Marasigan's next words renewed Fevris' resolve and her hope of them finding a cure in time to cut the losses of this outbreak significantly. After all, time was the key factor here. The people of Mephout would have no need for a cure if they had already been shot dead by the soldiers that were now clearing through the Frenier Delta.

"Its our best and only shot for now, so here goes to hope." She said, before opening the cooler and pulling out one of the vaccine samples before sealing it again. The Moff Council had done their part, now it was up to luck to make sure this strain of the virus was still sensitive to the vaccine. Protecting those who had not yet been infected was an indisputable priority, curing those who had just a wishful aspiration. Her efforts would be focused on the latter for now.

She placed the vaccine in the same machine that was running the blackwing sample. And moved to allow Commander Marasigan to see for herself the fruits of the work her team had conducted since their arrival at the quarantine center, nothing very encouraging. There was only one sequence of the Blackwing that seemed to have the potential to allow them to attempt treatment with an anti-viral, but it still eluded their efforts to understand it better.

 

[Matma Bernu]

So, when I got over my Dark Side-induced panic attack...things got real hairy, real fast.

Shambling wrecks of men- good men- fell onto us from the trees. Me and Sheriff were able to get onto a boat, and get out.

The people of Shortleaf, from I could hear as we sped away, were not as fortunate. Damn it all. Good, innocent citizens of the First Order. We need to end this, fast.

I vaguely heard Laurier's remarks as the Force screamed at me again, and I barely managed to avoid a flying tackle from above- from the trees, from what it looked like. Coming out of a roll, I swung upwards, cleaving through the white armor of the former trooper, then booted it off the boat. The undead were propelling themselves through the tree-line with a speed I'm certain they didn't have in their lifetimes. My lightsaber was a flurry of motion, chopping, spinning, reflecting the rare well-placed bolts away from me, or occasionally into their fellows. I was constantly in motion, attempting to make sure the creatures couldn't box me in, while making sure they couldn't attack the Sheriff.

"Questions, Sheriff", I said calmly, my eyes never leaving the seemingly never-ending swarm of dead-men. "How far is the town, how much back-up is waiting for us, and can you get on the horn and see if some First Order personnel are nearby?"

"And can you go faster?"


Resurgent Narrative | [SIZE=12px][FONT=Times New Roman]DG-4582[/FONT][/SIZE]

 

[Odesia Ursa]

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Soot speckled Odesia's otherwise alabaster plating, the acrid stench of scorched bone and skin intruded his helmet as he defended himself against a small group of infected; a squad of stormtroopers that had met with a most unfortunate fate, their own bodies prisoner to a disease which had no possible remedy or cure, a total damnation of body and spirit. The only alternative was to destroy them outright, to make doubly sure that there was no possibility that the body could rise again, and the lone Imperial Sentinel would do just that.

There was no mercy within the movements of Odesia's swings - how he bisected those who were once loyal to the First Order, tearing through them as if they were nothing but but mere objects. There was little humanity within the youth to begin with - tainted by the dark and soured nature of ill intentioned minds, only knowing what it was to strive for not life, but death itself. It was his craft, his most familiar work. With crimson alive within the grip of his gauntlets, Odesia somewhat resonated with every moment of connection of blade meeting flesh, drawing upon the Dark Side as his innermost desires began to boil to the surface of his psyche.

Before he knew it, he had slaughtered the remainder of the squad and observed as their smoldering limbs twitched and writhed before falling limp. With a deep inhale, the Sentinel moved onward with an almost robotic demeanor. He was cold in his methods, unwavering to cruelty wrought by his own hands. But yet, nobody had to know what he was like on the inside - none had to realize what burden rested heavy on his mind as he projected his frustrations through the lightsaber in his grasp.

Although, it was rather irritating being unable to speak vocally; Odesia very much doubted he could transmit his thoughts to anyone nearby, and as a result, he would work alone until visible to other First Order personnel.

In the distance he could hear them, their hungry snarls and groans. The hum of his blade quietly protested, awaiting to rip and tear once more.

 

[Audrey Saint George]

"Without my lexicons, I'm not able to translate," Audrey said ruefully, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "At least not with any degree or reliability or sincerity. Unless..."

Dr. Saint George moved down the length of the obelisk, brushing clumped and dried sand off where she could. "Perhaps with a little more context, we might be able to get a picture." She frowned and continued brushing off sand, examining the new symbols that were exposed. Ciara returned, and Audrey listened while continuing to study the obelisk.

"Do you know," she said conversationally, still clearly distracted by the archaeological find. "Just because they're superstitious locals doesn't mean they're wrong." She brushed her hands on the back of her breeches, dusting the sand from her hands on her derriere. "There are lots of things happening on this planet that may well be explainable by science... or not. Anyway, the point is -- "

Her voice fell silent when she watched the other dune fall away, exposing what were obvious stone doors, though her lips kept moving for a few moments. Finally, after a few moments, she said: "Well then. Shall we see what's in there?" She swept her gaze around to Ciara Lockley and Firenne Van-Derveld inquisitively, a broad smile forming on her lips.

 

[Nylea Apollodor]

Elisea sent the message to the Director she mentioned, and so she and Nylea were ready to head out. The echani supposed Elisea wasn't wrong in her assessment of the situation, either. If it were a living being causing this, it was going to be much easier to stop than some kind of power that was based beyond the corporeal. In the case of the latter, though, Nylea would at least be able to lend some kind of hand. Hopefully.

Nylea climbed aboard the speeder herself and watched the Avalonian as she prepared to head out. Off they went, the wind causing her hair to fly about behind her. Quickly the echani took a hair tie out of her pocket and tied her locks up into a ponytail, as to prevent it from getting too tangled. As they shot through the desert, she took in the environment around her. Even though there wasn't much to see in places like this, she was still able to find appreciation for it.

Even though Nylea couldn't hear every word clearly, the gist of what Elisea said managed to come through. "Still, it is never a pretty sight," she responded. It was true that they had seen their fair share of things nobody deserved to go through, but the echani would never truly be desensitized to it. As much as she vowed to help others in need, she needed time away from it too sometimes, lest it got to her. "I will let you do what you do best, and lend a hand wherever I can." She was no expert in curses, and she wasn't going to pretend to be one either.

Elisea Korrado Ciara Lockley Audrey Saint George Firenne Van-Derveld ​

 

[Ciara Lockley]

"It's simply beyond me." Ciara added daintily, content to let the woman most familiar with the art of archeology take point. Of course. That makes sense. she thought silently to herself as the woman spoke to context. Quickly snapping a few stills of the shapes, she spoke up. "Perhaps I can run these through a few paces back the the Library, with all that information there has to be some sort of way to translate." Ciara furrowed her brow as the sand began shifting. Audrey had been speaking but the words were lost.

What had once been solid sand dune had in an instant revealed two stone doors. Doors to what? she thought. Or to where. It was fortunate that she wasn't claustrophobic. "You had to ask? Of course!" Ciara chimed in, stepping over to a small container. Grabbing a torch, a respirator, and a small toolbag which she slung casually over her shoulder, the woman stepped up to the doors. "One of you ladies care to do the honors?"

Audrey Saint George | Firenne Van-Derveld | Elisea Korrado​

 

[Resurgent Narrative]

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If only we were here under better circumstances," Commander Marasigan replied, and undercut to the obvious as they stood within the massive duracrete, and plastic walls. "Let's hope Aurora Industries didn't go through all the trouble of formulating the vaccine for it to be a complete dud." Still, the Commander doubted it would solve all of their problems. "At the very least it's a start, we'll not only have to formulate something in the interim but for the Brevirostrii as well."​

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"Agreed," with regards to the best and only shot, still - they weren't beyond developing another type of vaccine. The Blackwing had survived this long and no doubt it had mutated several times over, adapting to its hosts. Commander Marasigan moved over to get a look at the work that Dr. Derzelas and her team had been conducting. "This- this is very promising, doctor."​

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"Now, let's replicate our sample from Aurora Industries and see how they compare." Replicating the sample was easy enough with the right technology. Technology that the First Imperial Medical Services ensured had come along with the quarantine teams. They would have to produce quite a lot within the tiny quarantine centers, and once the formula had been found FIMS would produce it large scale back home - but that required time, time that the people of Mephout might not have if they couldn't figure out something in the here and now. ​

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"I believe our predecessors have recorded tissue samples of the varied Brevirostrii on Mephout, can you pull those up and see just how their bodies have reacted to the Blackwing and if we'd need to make any changes to any of our efforts here to ensure that they receive a vaccine as well?" From what Marasigan understood of the files (not that there had been many left) was that the Brevirostrii were cold-blooded and thus both virus and vaccine might react slightly different to them than it would a human or even a Chiss.​

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He was admittedly impressed by the man's gumption. "Boy, this boat is goin' as fast as it can and that's the sad end of this story." Sherriff Laurier wished he was wrong and that this thing could uptick faster than a lightning bug over the grass. "Town we're headin' to is called Le Maïs, and I'd like ta tell ya son that it's a nice town, but it ain't." He'd tell the young man the town by all accounts wouldn't be too far ahead, but with the way things were it could take longer - bayou wasn't used to takin' so many lives in one night. ​

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"The kinda town that used to be clean farmland, ya hear? Been drowned by the bayou some fifty years back, and ya see once the bayou gets you, well..." His voice trailed off but the tone was inclination enough. The town was wiped out and anything left wasn't natural, "no worries, I'll radio up, see if we can't get any of you other tiny folk about."​

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He dialed up the town and managed to get on the horn to other Brevirostrii Law. It would sound nothin' like talk but grunts, guttural sounds, and hisses - gator talk as the local humans like to say. "Been told some of your boys and girls might be there, so lets hope they still alive when we get there - if not this gon' be a long trip."​

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Fevris Derzelas | Matma Bernu ​

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[Fevris Derzelas]

Location: Quarantine Center, Outside New Laveau.
Wearing: Hazmat suit.
Equipment: N-1 Bioscanner; Medical Supplies.
Armament: SE-14r repeating pistol.
Tagging: Resurgent Narrative (Commander Marasigan)

Fevris nodded as the Commander finished speaking, and she handed one of the vaccine samples to a fellow scientist in her team so that the process of replicating it could begin. Worst case scenario, the results would indicate that this vaccine didn't work and they'd have a few spare samples of useless inoculation, but if it did they'd have saved time which was the most precious thing they had at the moment.

Leaving the machine to run the effects of Aurora Industries vaccine towards the blackwing sample taken here in Mephout, Fevris looked at the Commander when she mentioned the Brevirostrii. "We did receive the samples but I can't say what we found was good, Commander." While she spoke, she made a gesture and a holographic interface appeared before her. Another advantage of the N-1 scanner is that thanks to its holoprojecting ability it was not necessary for her to touch and pass the datapad-like scanner around as much so that everyone could see its contents.

The hologram was displaying a schematic of the Blackwing virus from a human host, and slowly it began to chance until its structure was slightly different. "The virus has mutated to be able to better survive the Brevirostrii's colder bodies and infect them just as easily, so its safe to assume that if Aurora's vaccine proves useful for humans, it will still need some tweaking to be able to immunize a Brevirostrii." Everything was a big 'if' right now, and Fevris did not enjoy uncertainty when so many lives were on the line.

Then a beeping noise had the cerulean eyes of the Doctor going back to the machine, the test had finished and results were available. As Fevris began reading it, she could feel her short lived hope being snuffed out. In the end, the Blackwing from the sample was different than the components of the vaccine, meaning the body wouldn't become immune to the Mephout strain. However, in another screen attached to the same machine, one she had been examining before, a green light came up.

Fevris once more moved her hand to get the results of that screen to show up in the holographic interface where they were easily visible to everyone in the makeshift laboratory. And in that data, hope was reignited. Aurora's vaccine wouldn't be useful in its current state, but the deactivated strains of the virus in it had allowed the machine to recognize similar structures in the Mephout strain. "Commander, we might be onto something here..." Fevris' voice was the first to break the silence that deep contemplation had induced in the research team. If they managed to inactivate a Blackwing sample, they could make their own vaccine. Both for the humans and the Brevirostrii, one that would work against the Mephout strain.

 

[Matma Bernu]

This is how fast the boat can go, at top speed?

I beheaded a turned man, and surveyed the rest of the shambling abominations. They had thinned out somewhat- about four remaining.

That is...less then ideal.

Side-stepping one's attempt to brain me with it's rifle, I kicked it in one of it's partners, sending them both into a mangled mess of limbs as they attempted to disentangle from one another. Two quick cuts of my saber ended their struggle.

"Le Maïs", I said, testing the word several times. The remaining two attempted to rush me. Another swing, another side step, and a reverse thrust followed by a boot brought that number to zero. We were alone, for now- I could sense here some of them still following, but they weren't in range of the boat. Not yet, at least.

"Honestly, Sheriff, this town you've been talking about doesn't have to be a visit to Mon Calamari. Any port in the storm until we at the very least regroup. We need to be prepared for a fight the minute we touch down though. I sense more of these creatures trailing us."


Resurgent Narrative

 

[Bellam Malhan]

Caz Ozzel || Resurgent Narrative || Ryker Atreides
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Listening to the crackling communicator, he was able to suss out the general message despite the ringing collision alarms. Having slid down into his seat with the hatched secure over him, he settled in to his scopes while the repulsortank manuevered deftly through the trees. Caz wasn't a hotshot driver just yet, but given some time, he showed the promise of one. Attitude was the true hallmark of aptitude, and he wasn't concerned about the driver in any form.

"E-Web set up outside the data center." He said, attempting to make out anything through the gnarled branches and decaying leaves. "Boots on the ground are going to det it. If that fails, we'll need to make a pass ourselves - it's boxed." Nudging the back of Cee-Dee's seat with his boot, he evened out his breathing.

"Expect a hot El-Zee, standard disembarkation procedure." Front toward the enemy, suppressive fire.

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[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Here he stood waiting for the datapad to let him know the transfer had finished. Thankfully it wasn't overly long before Kurayami heard the familiar ping. Disconnecting from the nearly dead terminal, he checked to see if any of the others were accessible through a wireless connection. If so then perhaps he wouldn't have to venture into the ruins to gather the needed information. Giving the datapad a few minutes to search for any active connections, he made sure that the DC-17m was loaded with a fresh ammo pack and ready to go. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder his gaze went back to the screen and surprise...no results. Well kriff it, time to head in.

Oh right, check the data first, yea that was a good idea probably. If nothing else it would give the Corellian an idea of what he may encounter inside. Upon opening the files it turned out to contain very little in the way of logs that would pertain to possible threats...just a catalog of artifacts from urns to obsidian knives. No personal logs of any sort and no mentions of any sort of unusual occurrences, so maybe they thought they had managed to get everything out of here that was useful information? Maybe. Still, it was time to see if there was at least a map they had made he could pull up. Linking the datapad to his HUD, he searched through all the files finally finding a map. Kurayami took a moment to set it as an overlay that was basically just an outline of where he was. Tuning the ground penetrating radar, infrared, and millimeter-wave radar units to scan around him in a 360 degree field, he stepped inside the ruins the HUD switching to low-light mode almost immediately as he began his descent, DC-17m at the ready just in case.

Resurgent Narrative
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[Resurgent Narrative]

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Marasigan knew that that was a possibility. The Brevirostrii's cold-blooded composition was going to make this difficult although to what degree was only now just making itself known. Nothing they couldn't tackle, at least she felt, but of course they didn't have the luxury of time to truly get this the way they wanted it. No, they were going to have to find an answer in the here and now - a band-aid until they could better understand this whole thing under the microscopes of their Avalonian or Laurentian labs. Thankfully, Fevris' company did good work, the Commander watched as Dr. Derzelas interacted with the holographic interface in front of them.​

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"It's definitely better than what we had before," which had been running into a lot of brick walls, but not without some effort to show for it. The beeping noise distracted them both, Marasigan stepped up toward the holographic interface. A hand on her chin and her other arm wrapped around her midsection as she studied what was there in the holograph. While the Doctor went over the machine's results, Marasigan kept studying the information in front of her. ​

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Viruses often mutated which meant any singular vaccine would have to be adjusted to combat it. She turned to visibly see the Doctor's physical reaction to the information she had been presented. The Commander walked toward the Doctor just as the woman spoke that they could be onto something and something was better than the nothing they had previously. Marasigan was about to say something about finding a better sample from the Brevirostii since the information they had was somewhat old and dated. When she heard something outside the duracrete and plastic walls, she turned her head over her shoulder just slightly toward the sound. Then there was nothing so she dismissed it initially.​

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"We need current samples of the Brevirostii, to make sure our information is up to date, how are we on isolation for the current patients?"​

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Then she heard it again, this time closer - and this time the room shook. Everything in the room, and then again another sound, and the ground felt like it had shifted, except it hadn't. Then there was screaming, followed by a loud and unholy screech with several hisses. Radio chatter came alive, and it only confirmed the Commander's fears. The First Order makeshift bases, and outposts were falling, and they were falling fast to hordes of the 'undead' the turned victims of the Blackwing.​

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The boat pulled into Le Maïs and the sight alone was grim, the aftermath of a flood fifty years in. Le Maïs was a venerable ghost town, if you didn't catch sight of the shanty houses built on top of the overgrown bayou-infested old town. Sherriff Laurier just felt the wrongness of the place as he moored onto the old dock. "It'll have to do, them there high up is better ground, might do to find some ol' gas cans, fuel - something to burn." He then pulled himself up and headed into the mire of the town. ​

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There were other Brevirostrii and they didn't seem to give the Knight a kind eye. A gruff sort stepped forward and the badge on his leather sash indicated he had been the other lawman, the Sherriff had contact with. "Git'on up'ere, fer ya catch sumthin' dat ain't da bad ju." Bad ju, juju, voodoo meant to refer to anything bad and in this case - the Blackwing Virus.​

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"Been told sum'o yer kind is a headin' dis a-way," he remarked and then introduced himself as Deputy Robichau that was Roe-B-Chaw as he said it. All the while he mentioned that DG-4582's unit was supposed to be headin' on toward them. There was a moment of respite as for the time - none of the turned or infected were in the area or at least that could be noticed on way or the other. Still, Sherriff Laurier hadn't come back from his swim in the mire of ol' Le Maïs.​

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Cee Dee felt the boot and acknowledged immediately, "y-yes sir, Sarge, s-sir." ​

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Front toward the enemy he cleared his throat and shifted his weight in his seat, the El-Zee was gonna be hot which meant he'd have to start on with the shootin'. Someone once told him it was why he was thrown in for the chair - his aim was perhaps incomprehensible if only maybe because he was a bit on the yella-belly side of things that he shot so well. Then there were the days and times when that fear just gripped him good and he couldn't shoot the red off the side of a barn. ​

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Good thing they stuck him with Sergeant Malhan.​

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Right?​

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Caz was drivin' them about as smooth as any repulsortank could in these conditions, he gathered. CD was still nervous, and the humidity in the tank didn't help him any. All he knew was that he didn't want any of the infected to get near his tank - and from he gathered from his Sergeant a boxed in E-Web was to be expected. Undead didn't know how to use those right? Well, why take the chance anyway he figured.​

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Somethin' shifted though in front of him, and then again, "aw hell."​

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He'd rather take a crack shot at a tree and be wrong to say oh, it was only a tree rather than not take a shot and be even more wrong and there had been indeed a rustlin' infected out there. So he called it out, undead-turned- at the one o'clock he gave his shouts loud and strong - clear as day and sent his shot through. Bayou erupted and the tree broke apart - revealing that he had in fact been correct in what he saw - there had been a turned-infected, and it wasn't the only one. He shouted again, he was takin' the shot just as a large - fearsome undead Brevirostrii shot out the water.​

Fevris Derzelas | Matma Bernu | Bellam Malhan | Caz Ozzel

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