The Darkest Day

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The heat was unbearable.

Alex ran a gloved hand across his sweaty forehead and spat a curse. He'd dressed in the heavy leathers of his combat coat. It was a necessary precaution when meeting with people of questionable repute, but he was beginning to regret it. The mass-rifle that clung to his chest beneath the leather certainly wasn't helping his situation.

The blistering sun beat down upon Camp Tal'verda's mustering ground and cast dark shadows along its various hangers and communication towers. It felt like the concrete was going to start melting at any given moment; it was truly the hottest day Zenith Prime had experienced in years.

Shaking his head in frustration, the former commander settled down on one of the nearby shipping crates and ran a hand through his mess of blond hair. Since leaving the Galactic Alliance, he'd found work in guiding others into service. Men and women by the score had found clients for military service with Alexander Ontanas' guiding hand upon their shoulder. A gathering of former slaves was supposed to meet him here to be enlisted in the Zenithian military. It was an honorable post, as the Zenithians had always been a dutiful people. There were no greater warriors in the southern systems, and more importantly, they were Alex's only living kin. He could only hope to do them right by giving them more soldiers, and to do right by the former slaves as well. They deserved something good in their lives.

Breathing a heavy sigh, he turned his gaze up toward the greater installation. Camp Tal'verda was one of many forts and outposts dotting Zenith Prime's surface. The entire world had once been the training ground of the Dreadguard and the Confederate military. Since then, it had grown into its own sovereign state; with its own laws and traditions. Its people's military origins had not been lost. Zenith Prime now boasted an astonishing twelve legions and a fleet large enough to keep most foreign powers out of their space.

Content to wait in the shade of the shipping crates, Alex watched the bustling fortress go about its daily routine. Unbeknownst to its denizens, something great and horrible stood poised to change that routine forever. On the edge of the system, a hundred ships stirred in the darkness, unseen by the Zenithian sentries.

The day was the brightest and hottest many had ever seen: it would only be eclipsed by the coming dark.

[member="Finger"], [member="Strask Ak'lya"], [member="Adelram Thul"], [member="Xil Nevin"], [member="Skrekkor"], [member="Laman Ress"]

 

[Skrekkor]

Skrekkor was tired. Skrekkor needed a bed. Days of tracking lead him nowhere, and his current target was off the planet, if he'd ever been on it to begin with. The setting sun normally meant it was time for Skrekkor to hunt and cool himself down, but after days of being up and with no food, Skrekkor needed sleep. The lizard-man made his was to the closest bar, pushing his way through the humans in his way, til he sat himself upon a barstool.

One drink down. Two. Three. A stack of ribs. Skrekkor needed bedding now. The lizard paid the bartender, and made his way to his room, snarling out as he was sure he was cheated, but now wasn't the time. A cold bed awaited him just a few meters away, and with a bottle of liquer in his hand, Skrekkor was happy. Blood would be better, but still happy.

 

[Laman Ress]

Laman had no purpose anymore. After he discovered the corruption of the techno union they tried to take it over, but that was not meant to be, but the Techno Union collapsed before they could do anything. While Laman was still active in the Zenitian military, there were no fights to be fought, so for now he sat around drinking alcohol and having a good time. He would much rather be fighting again, but the peace time allowed him some much needed recuperation, so for now he went to a bar to drink away the night.

Entering the bar, he was shoved out of the way by a barabel, but he did not have any further quarrel with him, so he would leave it be for now. He sat down at the bar, and ordered some bourbon, he would not drink to much, he had things to do later that night, but for now he would drink.

 

[Ak'lya]

Strask sighed, watching Natasha ask around while he checked data streams and records. They had been hired by House Ulgo to find their lost son. He had been starting up a manufacturing business, and was surveying a plant on Geonosis when he went missing. His ship had departed Geonosis for the fortress world of Zenith Prime. A supremely strange choice, especially as the Ulgo brat wouldn't know the location. Even stranger, the ship had arrived empty. Strask puzzled. It was odd, but the man had been noted on security cameras. He watched the man step through the door, stop, and sharply turn to walk out the side door. He was acting strange. He had to call in a favor to keep him on world. Security was good, but he wanted to find him soon. Something felt wrong.

[member="Laman Ress"]

 

[Finger]

Off in the distance, a blip slowly comes into view on the horizon, heading towards Camp Tal'Verda's, and Alexander. The blip grows larger as it draws closer, and then splits off into a number of smaller dots that grow larger as they draw nearer. A number of small carrier vessels, flying down towards the camp, carrying those that Alexander was to meet.

The ships soon descend, docking within the hangars, maintenence crew guiding them in down below and then getting to work securing the vessels as the ship doors open with a hiss. Slowly, figures begin to emerge from the vessels, numbering in the dozens, various humanoid men and women, clad in simple garments and all very much physically capable and callused from the looks of them. Many of them keep very stoic expressions, but others openly gawk at their surroundings, many of them had never been outside of their respective slave camps, and the gladitorial rings after all.

Striding out in front of the group which converges in an open area within the hangar, Finger looks about the area with an even expression, before taking in a deep breath of the air. He, as well as those with him, felt right at home in the heat. He pauses for a few moments, a Twi'lek and another human trailing behind him, he closes his eyes and simply takes a few breaths in and out, enjoying the sensation of newfound freedom, speaking relatively at least. His eyes would open after a time, and he would glance back to the pair following him, "Keep the children and the elderly inside for now, I'm going to... Find the guy, Everyone else should stay put as well, at least until we know what we're doing." He'd say, nodding to himself before looking away and strolling off. The twi'lek turns off without a word, going to broadcast the message to the rests of the ex-slaves.

Finger looks about for a time, trailed by the other human, who is a squat man with red hair, ribbed with all sorts of muscle. After a while, they pause near the shipping crates. The other man would speak up, rather casually, "What're we looking for again?"

"Don't ask me, I'm just the dumbass with a flair for punching people." Replied Finger, crossing his arms and standing in place, idly grunting, "I think we stick out. Do we stick out? Screw it, he'll come to us."

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]

 

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It was hard to miss the men clad in rags. Alex had little experience with slaves. In the Republic, the vile practice had been outlawed entirely, as had it been in the Galactic Alliance. Though the former Commander had little love for either of those galactic powers, he was thankful at the very least for their basic morality. It was something many others lacked in this day and age.

Looking upon the men, Alex felt his chest swell with pity and pride. They were bulky things; warriors of a more primal kind. He doubted they had the regimental conditioning of a Zenithian soldier, but what they lacked in discipline would be made up for with the ferocity of an unchained heart. A man who had recently broken his chains would do anything to keep new ones from being shackled upon him.

With a grunt, the soldier pushed up from his crate and marched over toward the man. He had an authoritative look to him. His jaw was set and his gaze intense as he appraised the two men. Blue eyes darted over the redhead, then his taller counterpart. After a moment or so of what some might have considered an awkward silence, Alexander spoke.

"Welcome to Zenith Prime," he held out a hand toward the taller man, "My name is Alexander Ontonas. I'll help you find a place you belong here." He nodded toward the redhead. "For all of your people."

Meanwhile, in the void of space, the transgressors began to make their move. Massive warships began to emerge from the nearby nebula. They were like great pillars of sandstone that someone had slapped enormous ion engines onto. The pillar-ships were bristling with guns ranging from point-defense cannons to capital batteries.

Alongside them came smaller ball-shaped ships. These were the soldier carriers, and what they lacked in guns they made up for with dozens of starfighter escorts. The fleet was clearly alien in nature, and more importantly, just beyond the Zenithian's range. Not a soul knew what came for the war world.

[member="Finger"]

 

[Kairus]

A Neimoidian Escort Shuttle descends steadily from above Camp Tal'verda. The shuttle maneuvers into one of the hangar bays before engaging its landing gear. The back doors to the shuttle open, allowing the ship's boarding platform to extend out onto the floor.

Xil Nevin emerges from the shuttle, escorted by two guards clad durasteel combat armor. Xil Nevin makes his way out of the hangar, moving briskly along the crammed streets of the city. The guards matched the Muun's pace, guarding his blind spots and scanning for potential threats. Xil arrives at the mustering grounds of the military encampment. He immediately spots Alexander, who seems to have been kept company by a group of men with a brutish appearance.

Xil Nevin approaches the group cautiously. "Alexander." He states bluntly. "Your reputation precedes you. You have found the men for my escort operation swiftly and with ease. However.." He pauses for a moment before acknowledging the rest of the group. "These men are not armed. I presume you will provide them with the proper armaments?" He inquires, observing the men with a stern look on his face.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]
[member="Finger"]

 

[Skrekkor]

The Barabel would lay himself down in the bed, staring at the ceiling until sleep finally overtook him. He'd drift off, with bottle still in hand.

Skrekkor would wake up in the middle of the night in a fit of sweats, or at least he would've if lizards could sweat. The barabel awoke from another nightmare, one of many that have plagued him his entire life. Another chase gone wrong episode, another situation in which Skrekkor wasn't in charge. He took a swig from the bottle, then another, then one more until he felt tipsy from it. He'd lift his feet to the side of the bed, sighing as he pressed his hand to his head, as he ran it over. Skrekkor needed to find his target, but first.. back to sleep. The night would be long and full of fits for Skrekkor, constantly waking up, and repeatedly waking back up, only to drink himself back to sleep.

 

[Laman Ress]

Laman was asked by some woman if he had seen someone, which he said he had not seen anyone like that. Laman knew from experience that they were probably looking for him because they were getting payed or something of the like, though it was none of Laman's buisness how others payed rent, and otherwise he had a job to do, he had to go and oversee the large influx of former slaves coming into the city, they entered at the behest of [member="Alexander Ontonas"].

Laman got up from his barstool, and got into a cab to head to the muster grounds. Upon arriving he payed the cab driver and got out making his way to the large flat area where the soliders would train, and if there were to be an attack, where they would assemble. There he saw two people who were unmistakably of low birth, probably the representatives for the immigrants, and talking to them, Alexander himself. Walking up to the group he introduced himself.

"Hello, I am Colonel Laman Ress, i was sent to oversee the large influx of immigrants which arrived in the city, just making sure everything checks out, if you dont mind." Laman said

[member="Finger"]

 

[Finger]

Finger and his comrade turn their gaze over towards Alexander as he approaches, the former raising his right brow slowly before he would turn to face the man in full. As the armored man offers a hand, Finger would extend his in turn, firmly shaking the man's hand before offering a nod. "I'm Finger, it's a pleasure to meet you." He says, offering a slight smile before he would shift his gaze over towards the red-headed man as he retracts his hand, "This is Ross, a close friend and comrade, one of the men that helps keep order amongst us." He'd go on, watching Ross bow his head in sync with his words before he would turn back to face the the soldier.

"We have a little over one-thousand men and women capable of fighting, we've all agreed to do so, as long as armaments and food are provided. In addition, there are around two-hundred children, eldery and pregnant women who will not fight. They will require a place to live in exchange for our services, as grateful as we are for our freedom, I'm not going to allow them to live as though they were still in the slave rings." The black-haired slave says, his hand lifting to scratch the side of his neck as he casts a glance off towards the ships they arrived in, tone and expression even. Then, he turns back to Alexander, "I assume you're the man that can organize all that, and you may already have been planning to. But I don't know a great deal about the men who freed us, so I want to make our conditions clear."

Finger would go to continue to speak after a pause, but upon the approach of others, he tenses up slightly and looks to each of them, before relaxing as he speaks to Alexander with a tone of familiarity. He keeps his silence until Xil Nevin finishes speaking, interjecting for a moment, "We've only got the arms that we procured from our former masters." He'd comment, retaining his silence henceforth. Ross steps forwards a bit to stand at his side, and Finger glances sidelong as the man for a moment before returning his gaze to the others, noting the approach of Laman and offering the man a firm nod of his own. Nontheless he retains his silence, looking to and fro with a blank expression, eyes shifting about attentively.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"] [member="Xil Nevin"] [member="Laman Ress"]

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Alex had expected a chaotic bunch. When he was told that a number of former slaves were in need of employment, he'd assumed the freedmen would be barbarous. They had, after all, fought in the gladiatorial rings on Lok. To survive was an impressive feat, and though the former commander did not approve of the rings in any shape or form, he could appreciate what kind of man they made. It was evident by the way the black haired man conducted himself that he had taken charge. If he was a representative of those that followed him, then the Muun was in for a treat.

"I'm not sure my client will agree to provide for your civilian population. However, Zenith Prime takes care of its people. Those of you who cannot fight will have a home here, just as our warriors' families to, naught to worry." He affixed Finger was an assuring smile. It was a smile that had convinced dignitaries to sign entire worlds off to the Galactic Alliance. Say what you would about Alexander Ontanas' policies, but he was as much a diplomat as he was a warrior.

"As for the men, we can arm them for a nominal fee. The deduction from your general pay shouldn't be too substantial," he continued, pausing momentarily as [member="Xil Nevin"] approached. Truthfully, Alex didn't know much about the Muun. He did general background checks into those he scouted for, of course, but the minuet details weren't something he felt the need to look into.

At the very least, he looked the part.

"Mister Nevin, a pleasure," he dipped his head ever so slightly, "This is Finger," he gestured toward the black-haired slave, "And Ross," another gesture. "They represent the men that will be defending your trade routes soon enough. Hardy boys, I assure you."

He flashed that diplomat's grin once again. "They'll be armed, not to worry." He clapped a plate-bound hand on Finger's shoulder. "When I'm done with them, they'll be ready to hold off the entire Sith armada. You won't need to worry about pirates ever again, isn't that right son?" He cast [member="Finger"] a knowing glance. The boy needed to be put on a pedestal to impress Mister Nevin if he hoped to lead his fellows.

[member="Laman Ress"] was a perfect picture of Zenithian blood. Tall, well built, and with patrician features that would make even a Hapan swoon, the Zentihians were truly a noble people. Laman was a living avatar of that nobility.

"Colonel," Alex nodded, "A few good men looking for a fight. Nothing to worry yourself over."

Little did Alexander know how much of a lie that was.

The Geonosian war fleet began to move. Its vast pillar-ships were escorted by a sea of golden snub-fighters and various smaller corvettes, all bristling with guns and various other armaments. It only took a moment for the Zenithian scouts to catch sight of the grandiose fleet heading straight for its space docks. Ready alerts were broadcast through the Zenithian fleet, but a combat alert was not yet issued. The various operators on the ground were summarily informed of the advancing fleet. The defense force moved to form a defensive blockade over Zenith Prime. They did not yet fire, not wishing to be the ones to start a war. There was still the chance that this xeno fleet was simply a show of strength by a particular diplomat. It would not be the first time.

[member="Strask Ak'lya"], [member="Skrekkor"], [member="Xil Nevin"]

 

[Laman Ress]

As Alex replied, a man walked up to laman and told him that he was needed at central command, he said something big was coming and he was needed. Laman frowned and took a data-pad from the messenger.

"I am sorry to have to leave so quickly, but i must take my leave, i hope to be back as quickly as possible. Good day." He said.

Laman started making his way towards centcom swiping through the data contained on the datapad. Laman read every detail they knew about this, this would be quite the event. Not much had happened since the fall of the techno union, an event like this was long overdue. He made his way to the situation room.

The scene in the situation room was frantic and chaotic, lots of talking that was hard to hear over, people searching through databases and old paper files, trying to figure out what might be happening. Scouting reports flooded in and it took a large team to sort through it all. Nobody knew if this was an attack or just a show of power, but Laman believed both possibilities should be assessed equally. Laman quickly started digging through data in order to formulate a strategy. He didn't think anyone would issue a combat alert yet, but the planet would be extra careful, warnings were issued to individual city governments, and planetary defenses were warming up. He hoped it did not have to come to war, but this was a large fleet.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]
[member="Finger"]
[member="Xil Nevin"]

 

[Ak'lya]

As Nat returned to the table carrying a drink and two pieces of flimsi, Strask found what he needed. Their mark was headed towards central control. Great. "I got two numbers to random guys and a free drink." She sat down, placing the beer between them. "I hope you had more luck?"

"I did. He's headed towards the Planetary Center." He stood up, sliding the datapad into his pocket as he headed for the door.

"Is that bad?" Nat replied, quickly grabbing up her coat and hussleing after him.

"Very. He gets access to that..." There was a blip in his pocket. He pulled it out, noticed something, and "We need to get there. Now." He broke into a sprint. Three blocks. They had five minutes before the fleet got close enough to fire. "Nat, be ready to clear out. This probably won't be pretty." He pulled the needler, feeling the weapon sit in his palm

"But what's going on?" She asked as she moved to get an evac vehicle ready.

"I don't have time to explain!" he snapped, redoubling his efforts. He had to get there now.

 

[Finger]

Finger keeps a blank expression in the face of Alexander's smile, there weren't many other options available to them, so he had to make the best of their situation, for all of those that followed him. Taking a breath in, he would turn to face Xil Nevin in sync with Ross. Many of his comrades were of a more brutish disposition to be sure, but several of the scars on his body were earned through his failure to show good mannerism before his former masters, the man could play ball. He'd bow his head in the direction of the muun who he assumed was their potential employer, Ross does much the same, though he would unwittingly hold the position longer than Finger, whom lifts his head after a moment and gazes evenly towards Xil and his bodyguards. "It is good to meet you. My men are well-trained, you need not worry. Every single one of the men and women that follow me are battle-hardened. Pirates will be no issue." He would say, speaking matter-of-factly and gesturing a ways off to the side, where the small gathering of the former gladiators speak amongst themselvess. Past that, Finger retains his silence, watching Laman move off as his hand would shift back to a neutral position, his eyes slowly shifting back and forth. He supposed it would be better not to tell them that a fair few of the gladiators had been pirates once, forced into service for their crimes, rather than being born into it as he was. It wouldn't be too hard to get a grasp on their operations, he thought.

The two ex-slaves stand in place, noting the increased activity about, Finger does not think much of it, inexperienced with the workings of a place that is not a slave ring. Ross on the other hand, watched the activity, and Laman's movements with suspicion, though he said nothing. For the time being, they were content to wait until they had something that needed doing, conversation, after all, was not their forte.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]
[member="Xil Nevin"]

 

[Kairus]

Xil Nevin would nod calmly in response to the reassuring statements made by Finger and Alexander. "Good.. Good.." He stated plainly, pressing the tips of his fingers against one another. Suddenly, one of the Muun's guards leans into his ear, whispering in a hushed tone.

"Gentlemen." Xil states, a frown spreading upon his face. "I suggest you find a safe place for your women and children. It appears there is a large Geonosian fleet inbound at our location." His eyes fixates on Finger. "This means I will need a squadron of your finest men to protect me starting now. After all, no one can pay you and your men if I am dead." His frown diminishes as he stares at Finger with a Solemn expression before turning to Alexander.

"Mr. Ontonas, I may suggest you arm these men and gather all the forces you can muster."

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]
[member="Finger"]

 

[Actakos]

Actakos was finally ready. After over two years of honing his combat skills and making sure his body was up to the task, he finally got to see battle again. And participating in an invasion no doubt. The Geonosian fleet was huge and wouldn't have a problem smashing through the Zenithian defenses. He had no idea if there would be any Jedi on the planet, and he really didn't care. This was about getting to test his abilities for the first time.

He had been hired to do several small jobs in the last few months, but no real combat. When he was contacted about possibly joining the invasion, he was more than pleased. He had no real authority in the invasion of course. He was just meant to go deal with whoever got in the armies way. As he watched the Zenithian defenses preparing, he headed for his ship. He wasn't going to land with the rest of the soldiers. He preferred to go down with his own, cloaked ship. That way the enemy would have absolutely no idea he was coming.

[member="Xil Nevin"] @Finger @Laman Ress [member="Alexander Ontonas"][member="Strask Ak'lya"]

 

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The first sign of something amiss was Laman's urgency. Alex did not know the man well, but he had seen him around the fortress interacting with his cohorts. He knew the man to be well collected, though he had not seen Laman in a fit of battle. Training exercises, yes, but never in any real situation. The way the Colonel hurried off made Alex's hairs stand on the back of his neck. Something was very wrong, that much he knew. The question was just what the problem actually was.

"Aye, they're all good lads," Alex echoed Finger's words, though he was far too distracted. His voice was pitched and his features aloof -- he couldn't shake the thought that something was terribly wrong.

And then the Muun spoke.

"The bugs?" Alex hissed, mumbling a curse under his breath. The Geonosians had been a problem when the Techno union still stood. Their war machines were often the backbone of Union assaults when the galactic power still had the resources to wage war. Alexander and his brothers had been at the unfortunate end of their guns far too many times to underestimate them.

For them to come here...Alex knew why. There had always been xenophobic elements within the Geonosian society. They had been a quiet voice at first, but over the years they'd gained traction. Word sandy world was rare as of late, and Alex suspected this new fleet was the reason why. The radicals were now the majority.

"Jared, mobilize the boys," he hissed into the comm pinned to his collar, "Meet me at the armory. It's the bugs." A voice quipped through the other side, and Alex cut the stream.

"Laman has gone to speak to his men. It's time we did the same. Finger, get your warriors to the armory."

He turned his gaze to the Muun, "Stay close to us Mister Nevin, and take this." He held out his side arm -- a compact DC-15 pistol. "Safety is here. Click it off to fire. Keep it on when you're not. You shouldn't need to reload -- that blaster pack will last ages, but it does overheat. Take it, just in case."

He affixed the Muun with an intense look. It brooked no refusal. With that said, he turned toward the armory at the end of the mustering grounds. Hundreds of men and women were rushing from one end of the grounds to the next either looking to arm, inform their cohorts, or move to positions assigned by their superiors. There was a precision to it; the Zentihians were a well oiled war machine. There would be no chaos here.

"Don't get far from us Mister Nevin."

The issue of the day's extreme heat became a passing issue when compared to the threat just beyond the skies.

The Geonosian fleet was nowhere near as forgiving as the Zenithians. A thousand cannons came alight as soon as the pillar-ships came within firing range. The first volley simply rebounded off the shields of the various ships and orbital turrets defending Zenith Prime. The second began to smash holes through those shields, and the third tore through durasteel like a hot knife through butter.

The Zenithians gave just as good as they got, and their orbital emplacements were far more powerful than anything the pillar-ships could field. Their massive guns ripped the head pillar-ship asunder. The ship buckled and collapsed on itself, shards of metal and still-living bodies spilling out into the void from the gaping wound. Its allies left it to die in the void and advanced forward.

The Zenithians held, but a hole was torn in the middle of their defense. Dozens of small shuttles and drop pods were hurled through that opening, each containing lethal Geonosian soldiers, tanks, and mercenary men hired before the battle.

Krik'tal watched from atop the bridge of the Brux. The elderly Geonosian stroked a hand down the chitinous warbles that hung from his chin and thought of the spoils below. Zenith Prime was famous for its military prowess. What great works of technology awaited his people below? Krik'tal could not help but shiver in anticipation of the sacking to come.

[member="Actakos"], [member="Xil Nevin"], [member="Finger"], [member="Strask Ak'lya"], [member="Laman Ress"], [member="Skrekkor"],

 

[Actakos]

Orion reached his Sith Infiltrator sitting inside the hangar. His elite squadron of Geonosians was waiting for him. He didn't need them, but Krik'tal had insisted he have his own private squadron. Several of the Geonosians were equipped with vibro blades while others just had the simple blaster. Actakos just stomped past them and onto his ship. They quickly scuttled on and barely made it as he was already preparing to take off.

"Alright bugs! Strap in and shut up. I don't want to hear anything until we reach the planet surface." His deep metallic voice was intimidating and the Geonosians refused to make any noise. Actakos sat in the pilot seat and flew the ship straight through the ever growing hole in the Zenithian fleet. He piloted it down to the surface with easy and landed with many of the other transports.

As soon as he exited the ship he was greeted by several more Geonosians who made plenty of different clucking noises most wouldn't understand. Fortunately for him his built in translator gave him the ability to figure out what it was they were saying. "Our forces are landing and we are ready to move forward. The Zenithian military base of Tal'verda is not far from where we have landed. Several transports have already gone ahead."

Actakos simply pushed the Geonosian aside and took several more steps forward. He pressed a button on his arm and his glider popped open and his jetpack fired. He floated up into the air before turning and flying straight toward the military base. His squad tried to fly behind, but their wings couldn't keep up. He planned on killing the most out of all the invading forces.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"] [member="Xil Nevin"] @Finger @Strask Ak'lya [member="Laman Ress"] [member="Skrekkor"]

 

[Kairus]

Xil Nevin pulls back the side of his robe, revealing an FWG-5 flechette pistol holstered along his waist. "I appreciated the gesture, but I do carry for when occasions like these arise." The Muun's guards held their ground by him, flicking off the safety from their blasters. Xil peered upwards as the canon fire met the resilient shields. "A shame my shipment will arrive late.." Even in a potentially fatal scenario, the well-being of his business remained among the many thoughts racing through his mind.

"Lead the way, Mr. Ontonas."

[member="Actakos"] [member="Alexander Ontonas"] [member="Finger"] [member="Strask Ak'lya"] [member="Laman Ress"] [member="Skrekkor"]

 

[Skrekkor]

Skrekkor would wake up once more, without a drink in his hand this time. He'd make his way down the hallways, his hand on the walls as he'd stumble down the steps. Hand on his sword hilt with each step, ever ready and already angered with his lack of sleep. One step, two step, blue step, blue step, his clawed talons would tap with every footstep. Finally, the bar was in sight, and Skrekkor was happy once more. He'd slowly make way to the bar, a table with a human at it.

Skrekkor decided it was enough, and made his way out of the bar, stumbling back into the darkening streets, making his way to a nearby base off in the distance. Perhaps they needed a new strong arm? Skrekkor was soon to find out.

[member="Strask Ak'lya"] [member="Xil Nevin"] @Actakos@Alexander Ontonas [member="Laman Ress"]