The Dread Blades

[Figure In White]

One Week Ago

Darkness. Lights flicker. A shadow looms in the scant light of the hallway. Two children huddle in fear, crouching in the little hidden alcove of the vessel that they knew as home. It was a large ship, and it had a lot of people on it. Not a world ship, but large enough. It only ever docked to resupply, and it had never known violence. These children knew nothing of the wars that ravaged the galaxy, perpetrated by dark hearts full of malice and greed, or full of fake sympathy and fake justice. They lived a life of lies.

The shadow moves forward, trailing two crimson core blades with white wreathes. The lightsabers bite into the metal deck of the ship, leaving a trail of molten metal that burns hot, slag melting through the metal around it until it eventually cools, leaving deep, ravenous rifts behind. It frightens the children and one of them, the younger boy, whimpers. The girl, his older sister, puts her hand over his mouth to try and silence him as the shadowed figure draws closer. She shakes, afraid of what will happen if the man in the golden armor heard them.

Booted feet pass them by. Footsteps slowly fade into the distance, and the girl lets out a sigh of relief. After their parents were cut down by the buzzing blades, they’d run away to hide, afraid that they would be killed as well. When the boots moved onward she figured she could relax.

“It’s ok, Teris. We’ll be safe now.”

A shower of exploding metal. An armored hand ripped through the grille in front of them, grabbing the young boy and plucking him from safety. Teris screamed, reaching back for his sister. Screamed. Screamed…

Months Ago

Kamon screamed again as the blades were pushed into his arms. His ability to fight it had waned over the months of captivity. They bit deeper and deeper. Infected with the darkside, they sapped his connection to the light, sucked his soul away into the depths. His despair and sorrow grew ever more intense. Again he tried to fight it, tried to use the Force to move the blades away, but it was futile. The Believers were strong when they were in a group.

“You cannot fight this, Master Vondiranach. Give in as you have so many times before. Show us your pain.”

They’d captured him on a mission in the far outer reaches of the rim. He’d been alone, hunting down an injured, wayward padawan. The boy was dead, of course. He’d been killed and used as bait for Kamon. When he’d shown up, the trap was sprung, his ship damaged. He was unable to escape from them, though he’d slain many.

“I will… always… fight,” he struggled to say. “Always…”

“You say that every time we’re here, but what always happens when you do?”

Snap. The sound of crunching bones. It reverberated through his ears. Dead bodies all around. When he fought, people died. When he succumbed, people died. It was no use. He knew that. There was no use fighting anymore.

“Good. Relax and feel the truth.”

The darkside flowed through the blades and into him. He screamed again. Intense, white hot fire raged through his body, flooding him with anger, rage, pain, and suffering. Everything was wrong. It was all wrong. The galaxy was wrong. It needed to be controlled. It needed someone with power to bring true justice to it. Millions would die. The war to end all wars would rage. But it had to. It needed to happen. If it didn’t, trillions would die. So many dead.

His family. Dead. They were all dead. Rage filled him again. He jerked violently against his restraints as he screamed in anger. Bones snapped.

“His arm is going dead.”

“Remove it. We’ll give him a better one.”

Snap. Snap. Every bone in his right arm, breaking. Snap… snap….

One Week Ago

A flick of the wrist, and Teris’ head snapped back. The boy’s neck was broken. Gauntleted hand tossed the corpse aside like so much garbage. The girl, still hiding inside the duct, screamed and ran for her brother. A lightsaber swept free from his belt and activated. In one smooth step, he approached her, and rammed the blade through her gut, impaling her on white fire. She tried to scream, but nothing came out of her. Instead, she turned to look up at him, horrified. He felt her fear, her anguish, and her despair. He relished it. It became him.

Then he jerked the blade up and cut the small body in two, letting it fall away without a thought. Standing, he walked down the hall without a thought for the corpses that littered it. Over a thousand people were dead on the ship. A few had escaped through pods, but not many. Not enough to matter to him.

He approached the bridge. Automated defenses opened fire on him, but he reached out through the Force and crushed them. Scraps of broken metal clanged to the floor as he reached for the door and pulled it off, tossing it away. The bridge crew huddled within the room, weapons drawn. One of them was brave enough to fire on him. It was stupid. A deflected blast of fire was returned straight into the woman’s face. Her head snapped back and she slumped.

“Please! Please don’t kill us! We’ll do anything you want!” A Xexto was the one speaking. It wore the markings of a captain. “Just let us go!”

“No.” The voice issued from the golden armored man, metallic and synthesized. “You all must be expunged.”

Blade twirled, cleaving one head from its body. Spinning, he cut another in half. Blood splattered the floor. Not from lightsaber wounds, but from wounds wrought with the Force. Dead bodies lay strewn all over the floor. No one was left alive. There would be no survivors. He approached the controls and set a timer to have the ship jump into hyperspace to Alderaan. He knew that it would have the most impact if the ship was discovered there. Flipping on the distress beacon, and making sure the ship was programmed to exit hyperspace before impact, he left.

Four Hours Prior

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“His vitals are holding steady. He should survive.”

“Indeed. He is much stronger than we gave him credit for. Are the shards in place?”

“They are. All four are centered on his heart, attached to his rib cage. They won’t go anywhere, and they’ll amplify his connection to the darkside, and our connection to him.”

One of the individuals finished sewing his chest closed and stood back, wiping the blood from his hands. He motioned towards the wall, and a series of droids brought over handmade armor, crafted specifically for Kamon’s body. It was placed on him as the life support systems were pulled away. All that was left was the gleaming golden body.

“Should we wake him?”

“So soon? We just finished sewing him shut?”

“He won’t be able to move. His body is too weak. There’s no harm in it and no danger to us.”

“I hope you’re prepared to control him.”

A droid moved forward and administered a drug through an opening in the upper left arm before the armor was fully slid into place. It took a bit, but gradually his fingers began to move. Slowly he awakened from the deep sleep. When he did, and he became aware of what was going on. He stopped moving and stared.

“What have you done to me?”

“Now now, Master Vondiranach. Don’t get hast-“

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!”

In a second he’d ripped himself free of the table and crushed one of the Believers heads between his gauntleted fists. Another was ripped apart. Outside, all anyone could hear was screams. Screams that didn’t stop.

Present Day – Alderaan

In the space above Alderaan, the desolate ship appeared, rupturing through from hyperspace, and blaring its distress beacon accordingly. The ship was devoid of all life. Not even a functioning droid. Yet it flew on its own, approaching the planet at a slow enough pace that it wouldn’t be hard for someone to intercept it, but it was clear that it wasn’t going to stop on its own. It was a derelict. A ghost ship. And it told of horrors, all recorded on the ships computers. Hours and hours of logs of what was done to Kamon, and the results were easy to witness firsthand.

Present Day – Skye

The ship settled down slowly. A single occupant for an old YT freighter was slightly curious, but not unheard of. The YT was older than the occupant was. Once settled, the golden armored figure departed the ship and headed out of the spaceport entirely. This place. Something about it sang to him, called him. Not through a darkside presence. Just destiny. Something was going to happen. His blades itched somehow. Yes, something was going to happen.

[member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

ALDERAAN
The last Queen of Alderaan, Kiyala Demont, had counted Rave as a close friend and ally. New days had come, Rave no longer had those connections, favourites were out of favour, and there was a great deal of work to do -- considering she owned phrik mines here. Such factors brought the Lethewalker, scourge of the Braxant Run, to Alderaan the peaceful. The modified Haran'uliik light frigate very carefully did not sidle up alongside the death ship; Rave left that to the professionals, the system patrol forces of the Republic.

Aboard the frigate, though, an unholy technomantic alliance listened in on the data being played back by the appalled rescue crews. The alliance consisted of a dedicated energy receptor, enhanced sensors, a solid encryption suite...and a gadgeteer Master who had, until recently, possessed the holocron of Belia Darzu. Her attempts at Darzu-style mechu-deru had met with only modest success thus far, but taking information from the death ship was worth the possibility of failure.

Because that ship felt fascinating.

When at last her improvised eavesdropping tactic had gleaned what it would glean, she rose from meditation, joints stiff, and played it all over again. Alchemical cyborg processes didn't have claim on her love like other aspects of the Art, but the approach had seemed innovative, the results undeniably effective. As to where the specimen had gone...that was anyone's guess. She took what holo stills he could from the admittedly poor-quality eavesdrop proceeds. The right money, the right publicity, and she'd find the specimen or the specimen would come to her.

No, wait...

She played it back again, filtered the audio with mechu-deru instincts, closed her eyes...

"...now, Master Vondiranach, don't..."

A slow grin blossomed on her Vongshaped face.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Marat Five (Skye) - personal fiefdom of Lord [member="Lucien Cordel"]

Close to the spaceport


The Fringe was a nation of rogues, of loose rules, of free trade, and of Force-users. Forcers of every description called it home -- Jedi serving alongside Sith, and a dozen other kinds and names and labels. When someone picked up on a major unknown presence, especially in conjunction with an unrecognized starship on one of the founding worlds of the Fringe Confederation, people generally called an Arbiter. Until her severing, Ashin had been one; Spencer was another. It so happened that the Peregrine was near Skye; Spencer, then, was the one that got the call, and Ashin was merely along for the ride.

Soaring aerial palaces were the norm, and she could easily have gotten clearance to set up with one of her sniper rifles. The M6 from ArmTech, maybe; she was getting good with that particular railgun. But something seemed wrong about leaving Spencer to handle the face-to-face alone today.

So when she spotted the golden figure through a cross-street, and when they found their way to [member="Kamon Vondiranach"], Ashin was on hand to be, as usual, between [member="Spencer Jacobs"] and the danger.

"Welcome to Fringe territory," she said neutrally, sabre in hand but unlit.

 

[Sugar]

Skye--An absolutely odd day--



Sugar was a strange man/demon/spooky monster. However, he had a vision a while back. Visit someone on Skye, and see something entertaining. He'd already gotten one thing out of this, a dancing girl name Zyggaratha. She was crazy, but kind of cool. He enjoyed having a full complement of crazies working under him. But know he was walking, and sensing, and found some big bad vibes coming off these new Slayers.


So much fun. Maybe he'd get two dance partners after all this. Hard to say. Then again, maybe he'd just get a free show. He walked up towards the two of them, smiling wildly, a cane in his hand, hands behind his back like a child enjoying a game only he knew the rules to. He'd have a little fun with this, he thought. "Hey, hey, hey. How's everybody doing tonight? Up for dance, or a drink? Or a song?"


He looked at the two. Both more serious than he preferred. A pain, really. Still, it was hard to measure anything aside form the raw force energy they both had. Sabers, too. He wondered how much trouble they'd cause. He twirled his walking stick behind his back idly. All about the fun, of course.

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Valik"]

V-

There's a new player in the game. I'm attaching partial video files of the surgery and the aftermath. My best bet on a lead is Eshan, though S.J. may also know something -- I believe he's her father.

Care to help with specimen acquisition?


-R

 

[Valik]

[member="Rave Merrill"]


R

Always up for some specimen acquisition. The files you've attached are quite something. Wouldn't mind analyzing it further. Any additional information you can provide on the specimen? Pre-surgery dossier perhaps? In any case I'll be setting a transport up to head to Eshan. I would send a letter to S.J. or her accomplice but given the sensitive nature of the test subject I'm not sure that's wise.


V

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Valik"]

V-

Agreed.

As to the pre-surgery dossier, if he is who I think he is, I've put together something from my personal backup of my old High Council files. It's outdated -- retirement to the private sector has gone very well indeed -- but this one's been off the map for a while, so I doubt there's anything new I'm missing.

The ship is in Republic custody over Alderaan. I suspect your psychometric acumen could net us some usable intel as to our specimen's current location.

-R

 

[Allyson Locke]

The call came, she had been expecting it mostly because the day felt off. The Force was sporadic and Spencer had grown accustomed to feeling the small changes with in it. It didn't take long for her to once more place the armor that was created just for her on to her slender frame. The armor made her look a bit tougher, but the girl still a mentalist. Ashin of course accompanied her, was typical for the pair but now she as the Master.

As they stood there waiting a golden figure approached. That familiar feeling one that belonged to someone you knew from your past pulled at the back of Spencer's mind. Ashin stood in front of her like normal, protecting her as the woman had always done. It was different this time, Spencer needed to take the point even if just a moment. She trusted Ashin's instincts, but something told her that this was something she needed to deal with personally. Fingers wrapped gently around Ashin's bicep as Spencer stepped forward. As she passed Ashin, her finger tips gently caressed the woman's arm relaying the message that was quite clear. This was something Spencer needed to do.

“You must be pretty important if they've called us to come greet you. I also welcome you to Fringe Territory, what is your business here?” Spencer didn't draw a weapon, but the saber was there in case she needed it. Though in all her years since she had trained with Ashin in Shii-cho - there hasn't been a time she drew the blade.

[member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Valik]

[member="Rave Merrill"][member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

R-

The dossier was most helpful, the wedding debrief especially helpful. Hopefully this'll go a little better than that White Current user we had to deal with. I'll be at Alderaan soon and update you on any info I come across

-V

As Valik traveled through hyperspace towards Alderaan Valik began subtley slicing into Republic databases, establishing a new identity. Gallus Reatal, as far as any databases were concerned, was a Republic Investigator specialized in analyzing lost ships and space debris. Slicing Republic databases admittedly was not the easiest of tasks but while he was in the Sith Empire and Fringe both he made it a regular practice to slice his way into any information he was cleared to see rather than use simple clearances. And oft-used skill is dulled after all, and with Valik in good practice establishing his identity was a doable task. A more dedicated slicer might have found a slight irregularity but average patrols and Republic officials? Not a chance.

Once that was done it was a simple matter of using Mask to alter his appearance to fit the profile. A good operative never used own face while on duty after all. By the time he'd gotten to Alderaan he'd assigned himself unrestricted access to investigate the ship. He was allowed past checkpoints and into the ship as if he were a veteran part of the Republic machine. Which he supposed he was, on paper at least. From there he began to let his fingers drift over all of the systems of the ship, using his Kiffar talent in Psychometry to see what wasn't left in the tapes, where the supposed father of Spencer Jacobs had gone afterwards.

 

[Figure In White]

[member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"]

No. Why has the Force brought me here? Why them? Why now?

He stared across the open gap between himself and the two women. His daughter. His daughters mate. They stood confronting him, unknowing. A part of him was certain that Spencer at least suspected something strange was going on. That was a side effect of using your own Force essence to create a life. But she still confronted him as if she didn't know. He couldn't do this. He couldn't! And yet, he felt compelled to confront them, to face them, to destroy them. His offspring or not, they stood in the way of progress. They stood in the way of the future. He couldn't have that. He didn't want that. He didn't want this at all, but it was him, and he was it and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do but kill.

"You should run."

The voice, distorted by the helm, would not be easily recognized as his. Still, it spoke in a commanding tone that was not overbearing and full of malice or sinister desires. It was a command full of pain and sorrow. A warning. Fingers clenched into fists, and then flexed out again before repeating the process over and over again as he stared at the two. The other being nearby drew barely any of his attention.

"If you want to live, Spencer, you should take Ashin and leave. Now. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you don't do as I say."

For emphasis, he flicked a finger in the direction of [member="Sugar"], sending a Force push at him in an effort to send him flying away. Kamon's command of the Force had grown considerably thanks to the pieces of darkside infused metal that had been implanted within him. They were essentially conduits of the Force. Not purely one side or the other, it was the darkside taint that strained to focus what made it through, and what did not. Of course, in reality there are no sides of the Force. It was the malice, hatred, pain, fear, anger, and other such emotions that had been imbued into the metal shards that had driven him to becoming who he was now. Though he hated to admit it, he liked the power that he felt flowing through him. He wanted more of it.

A gold enshrouded foot lifted and moved forward, towards the two women. If they didn't leave, they would be in for a fight. If they left, they would survive. Kamon's focus was on those who regularly occupied the world, not his daughters. The conflict of emotion was hideous, but his desire to kill was overwhelming.

[member="Rave Merrill"] [member="Valik"]

The ship would, of course, have the logs of trajectory data taken from when Kamon's ship departed the vessel. It wouldn't be able to give them a perfect location for where Kamon was going, but it was a start, at least.

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Valik"]

V-

I've finished my investigation on Eshan. Kamon Vondiranach hasn't been seen here for some time, and nobody has any idea where he might be. I was thorough, and cleaned up after. Here's hoping your part of the investigation bore more fruit.

-R

 

[Valik]

Valik got a ping on his datapad, checking it to find Rave Merrill's search on Eshan was fruitless. Sadly, Valik's search thusfar was similarly fruitless, so he wasted no time putting up a reply. He had work to do. While the ship gave him no signs as to the man's current location. But no, the examination room. The one the surgeries were performed in, where the droids grafted the armor onto the man. The scientists, the cultists, one of them said something.

“They are. All four are centered on his heart, attached to his rib cage. They won’t go anywhere, and they’ll amplify his connection to the darkside, and our connection to him.”

Crystals attached to the man's rib cage, that connected him to the Darkside and to the scientists. It wasn't much to go on, but it was something. Taking a scalpel he chopped a small bit off the scientists in the room, putting them each in bags.

"I'll need to analyze these, see if I can find a match." He explained to the other Republic investigators as he headed to 'the lab', or his ship rather.


R-

Might have a lead. Crystals attached to target enhance connection to darkside and experimenters. Experimenters dead, but obtained samples. Will be crafting amulet to track connection.

-V

[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Sugar]

[member="Kamon Vondiranach"] [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"]

(OOC: lemme know if the power's a bit too much. This character is weird.)


The demon smiled, adjusting his tie as the sour, dour, twisted tough guy of the hour tried to throw him lovely little loop.

A push can be pulled, and a heart can be mulled, though. Kinda like wine. He could go for some wine. Maybe some of that Berry-wine they supposedly make on Dathomir.


He felt the push and turned to mist, blowing his friends a lovely kiss, as he reformed five feet closer to the ominous man in ominous man in ominous armor.


A voice like smoke and burnt honey dripped from the wicked demon's lip. "Now, now, slayer. Hot-shot pain purveyor. Wouldn't you like to try and at least dismay her? These women have a reason, so do I. Are you really sure brute force is what you should try?" He smiled, grinning like a mad man, a bad man, a rather richly clad man.


The devil in the well-cut suit twirled his cane soundly while the hellish horrors around him seemed to fight darkly and profoundly. If there was a reason, it was one he couldn't find. If this were a joke, then where's the punch line?

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Kamon Vondiranach"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"]

It went against the grain to let Spencer take point, but Ashin wasn't a Master anymore, and sooner or later she'd know that in her bones. For now, she let her wife stand before her.

Ashin's eyes flicked to the smoke demon. "This is our land, Vondiranach," she said, putting two and two together. "These are our worlds. Our home. You don't come into Fringe territory and throw your weight around. The entire Republic tried that at O'reen, and we annihilated them."

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer knew the gold figure was her father, the man had an air about him. It also helped that she was created from his force energy in the first place. The concept she understood, but the reality of her creation always baffled her. A living being created by the Force and capable of living a life like others who were created organically. The more she thought about it the more she remembered how much of an abomination she really was. Despite all of that, here she stood in front of her creator.

“I can't run away and neither can Ashin. This is our home and we have to protect it.” She prepared to fight her father, there was something terribly wrong with him – he wasn't the same man that she walked out on at the wedding. “I'm not a little girl anymore, I can handle whatever you throw at me Kamon.” The man who disappeared and reappeared made her raise an eyebrow in thought. Who was this guy?

[member="Ashin Varanin"] @Sugar @Kamon Vondiranach

 

[Figure In White]

The fact that the strange being seemed to avoid the push, and move closer at the same time, irked Kamon just a little bit. He wouldn't show it, hard to through his armor, but it did. Before he did anything else, he assessed this being, watching it closely out of the corner of his eyes, and paying absolutely zero heed to what it had to say because what it did say was insufferable babble. The darkness within told him that this being was just as dangerous as the two in front of him. A compartment on his right leg opened, and out popped a lightsaber. As he lifted his hand towards the being, the blade flew at it, igniting with a snap-hiss that flung forth a crimson cored, white edged blade set to pierce the being if possible.

Meanwhile, Kamon kept his eyes largely focused on Ashin and Spencer. The former certainly felt diminished in the Force from the last time he'd encountered her, but Spencer felt stronger. This was no easy task set before him from the standpoint of a fight, let alone from the standpoint of being Spencer's father. He hated this, and that only served to fuel the fire that burned within him.

"I don't care what the Republic did. They have always been pathetic, and they always will be. They sit and bicker about the Jedi, then attack whomever for no real reason. They fight themselves more than they do good, and what good they do is called into question as to whether it is moral or just, regardless."

He continued to stride forward as he called his blade back to him.

"I am not the Republic. Nor am I here to specifically fight you. But if you stand in the way of why I am here, then I will fight you, and I will destroy you. Spencer you have grown stronger, and for your sake I hope it is strong enough, because I too have grown stronger."

A second compartment, this one on his left leg, popped open and his second blade sprang forth into his hand as he started to move at a jog towards the women. Confrontation was inevitable between them, and had been since the moment they stood in front of him. They had known this, he was certain, just as he'd known it as well. He hated it, but he knew it. Now he was set to kill one of his offspring and her mate. That made him angry that the Force would make such things necessary, but so be it.

For your sake, Spencer, he sent to her telepathically, I hope you can kill me, because if you don't, you will die.

[member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Sugar"] [member="Valik"] [member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Valik]

Valik spent some time creating an amulet to track the man. With the ships logs on the procedures, the psychometric memories of the procedure and scientist's wording, as well as his skill in Alchemy it was not a difficult process. By tinkering with the newly found tracking amulet and one of his old amulets, The Twin Galaxies he was even able to obtain a more precise location of the man, Marat Five, a Fringe world. Funny that both alchemists had gone into republic territory when the target was so close to their front door. He fired up his ship and began heading out, as he sent [member="Rave Merrill"] a message.


R-

After a little quick jury rigging I have a precise location(galactically speaking). He's on Marat Five, and if the tape shown on the ship is any indication he's probably looking for trouble. If you're right about S.J. being a relation he's probably going to try to seek her out. We'll have to be quick if we want to intercept without alerting them, but starting to think up possible diplomatic solutions isn't a bad idea. Heading into hyperspace now. Meet you there, but reaching target takes first priority.


-V

[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

 

[Sugar]

Sugar bobbed his head to a rhythm, a pulse in the Force itself. He could feel it, in his demon's bones. He could see it, within alchemic stones. But could he heal it, as the man atones?


He saw the saber pull a wide fly-by into his general direction. He was getting tired of lethal predilection. So he vanished but decided to reform back a little ways. Next to the two women who seemed to chill for days.


"Who cares to tell me why he's trying to kill me?" The demon said with a glare.


"I just want to say hello, and this act doesn't thrill me," He remarked, grinning right there.



He sighed and walked and went and thought on what the feth was going on. He couldn't seem to live his ship without some loony crowing on.

Everyone was seeking their own release in violence, and in a sense condemning him to sit and look in silence.


He raised his cane as if to form a simple fighting stance.
Cause if these fethers can't sing hell, then maybe they can dance.


[member="Kamon Vondiranach"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"]

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Marat V

Scouting for new drop points was tedious work, but its precision was so important, Anaya dare not leave it to an aide to complete. If mistakes were made better that they are hers rather than someone else's. The planets highlands looked promising. Remote and not under a watchful eye, still she was uncertain about playing such games under the Fringe's nose, for personal reasons more than anything else. Taking a business stance on the matter there was no real reasons for her not to set it up, she's aided the fringe from time to time and her relationship with [member="Jared Ovmar"] would likely sway any issues in her favour.

Engrossed in the notes in her datapad and lost in her own whirlwind of thought she was oblivious to the shifts in the force around her, that was until she was almost on top of the source. She stopped in her tracks outside the spaceport and blinked, taking in the group. The tension that rippled through them said a fight was brewing and most sensible people were clearing the area, rapidly. Anaya, however stayed where she was.

Action against this golden armoured man might work in her favour, though she wasn't keen on the idea. The datapad slid into the bag on her shoulder, and the bag slid to the floor. They was nothing of great value in it and the data had already been transmitted to her ship. Her hand tugged a saber staff from her back, holding it in her hand she merely observed, choosing the right point to intervene was crucial, if of course, she decided that was a good idea. She offered no greeting to Ashin or Spencer, no sarcastic quip nor angry remark. Whatever she felt towards them was no longer important, detachment from such ties was imperative for her survival.

@Sugar @Kamon Vondiranach [member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Kamon Vondiranach"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Sugar"]

"You absolute fething idiot. You tell us not to stand in the way of your goal, but you never said what that goal was. You're either senile or looking for an excuse to fight." Ashin's sabre snapped to life, burnt orange in the S'kytri sun. "Tell us your goal. Maybe we let you pass."