The Galactic Alliance Dominion of Belsavis

[Sieb Tevv]

Objective A - Opposition

TIEs shrieked through the darkness of space, whole formations arrayed with practiced familiarity. Discipline would be what made the difference today, or so Raph's commanding officer insisted. Raph Tritum was not so sure.

The young Tapani nobleman was not a fan of how his father had dragooned him into the service, much less about how his fellow officers seemed so derisive of his heritage. On Procopia, he'd have skewered each and every one of them a dozen times over, but duels were not allowed by the Vanguard. And, at the end of the day, these were the men and women flying next to him. Every time he flew out on sortie he placed his life in their hands, and they in his.

Raph just hadn't quite realized that yet.

His fingers gripped the yoke too tightly, sweating inside the black gloves. People thought fighter pilots had glamorous jobs. Raph thought they should try sitting in a cockpit in the damnable harness getup and see how they 'glamorous' it really felt. Still, if this was the price of glory...

"I pay it gladly."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Cut the chatter and move to attack speed."

The TIEs entered combat with a wail. They closed quickly with the enemy squadron, faster than Raph thought possible. Their careful formations dissipated on contact and the dogfights became a tangled web of pilots locked in duels. Life and death measured in seconds.

Raph's red targeting reticle circled a hostile Alliance fighter. He sucked breaths as they swirled, space revolving around them. Explosions, passing star fighters and lancets of plasma surrounded Raph. Death on all sides. He managed to pull the enemy pilot into a scissors maneuver, allowing his wingman to take a shot that blew the bogey to bits.

"Splash one," said Raph's wingman, a fellow named Lazaris.

Tritum smirked. They would show the Alliance what happened to enemies of the First Order.

[member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Choli Vyn"]

 

[Choli Vyn]

Objective! : SPACE
[member="Loske Matson"] [member="Raph Tritum"]
11/37

[ We release together, pulling a hard Mark 5 on exit. Our objective is to destroy the command ship — disable as many other capitals out there too. Once out for six counts, peel out in pairs and do what we can to engage and enrage. ]

'right.. Mark five.' Choli told herself. A series of boops and a loud hoot from R2-D9 told her that he was settled in the pod. The rest of the starfighters were already well on their way, with streaks of light blooming them out to the fight.

"Oh we are late!" a rush came to her. Her veins felt as if ignited by fire. Excitement bloomed. "Right. Time to..."

The ignition sparked and engines flamed. Within an instant, she too was but a mere streak of light headed straight to battle.

 

[OK-3103]

Objective E: (Han) Solo
Post: 5/37.5

A second band of Gamorreans emerged from the opposite edge of the great clearing, equally dirty, drooling, shaggy, clothed in spiked armor wrought half of bright-coloured reptile leather, half of scrap metal clearly scavenged or stolen from the Imperial base that for so many years now had rotted nearby.

The new band of Gamorreans fell upon those already pounding on the side of their ship. And then the inevitable happened. The boars of one tribe turned on the newcomers and in an instant a fully-fledged battle ensued. Meneer looked down through the front viewport at the melee outside.

“They'll be fighting each other until it's too dark to see, at which time we can break out the lights and go exploring," the staff sergeant offered.

"They can't see well in the dark?" asked Meneer. Outside, the leader with the ears picked up a smaller boar by the scruff and seat and heaved him at the rest, ignoring the shower of darts and rocks that fell around him like grimy rain.

The staff sergeant looked surprised. "You don't understand. It'll be suppertime."

 

[Elaine Thul]

7/37
Objective: C

As her troops began to rota who was at the front first, she saw her infantry bring down more ammo, and fusion batteries for power armour. The power armour was energy intensive, as had to power up shields, and power up the hydraulics. If they power supply failed in battle they, would come out but would be using standard armour, and not this walking tank armour. She saw new cores be loaded, and the smoke was starting to clear. It was time to press on, though all she was doing was stepping over dead Esh-Kha. She heard a report though that they were going deeper underground, and not to other tunnels exits. This was curious, as surely they want to escape. They could fight, it was just their equipment was outdated. She did wonder why were they going down there.

 

[Trix Bastin]

Objective: Detour. New objective - avoid mutation and/or excruciating death.
Post: 5
Allies: [member="Avalore Eden"]

She considered arguing.

She also strongly considered smacking Voidstalker in the face.

Neither seemed likely to keep her in the fight.

So Trix clenched her jaw, yanked the gore smeared hilt of her saber out from under a cooling chunk of sithspawn, then trudged after the GADF private back the way they'd come.

She could hear Deckard engaging his own teeth in a grinding contest as they traversed the silent tunnels. The Private clearly wasn't a fan of escort duty. Not with his blood running hot from the fight mere minutes earlier. Not when there was a score to settle with the beasts that had jumped them - four GADF troopers who wouldn't emerge from beneath the earth.

Deckard lasted until they broke to the surface before loosing a grunt, spinning on his heel and dog trotting straight back into the hellhole of a temple.

Trix watched him go, her eyes narrowed to slits against the piercing light of the world outside. The pounding of her head had picked up, a staccato throbbing that radiated through her body from temple to toe. As bad as the time she'd been smacked solidly across the face with a mace. Or the time she'd been thrown headfirst from a moving shuttle onto solid duracrete.

Pure luck to still have a head really.

She stumbled across the surface towards the med tent, gasping out a curse with each step, her boots heavy as lead.

By the time Trix fell through the tent flap she was twisted over like an old man. She pulled in a shaky breath and jabbed a finger at her sweat streaked face.

"Frack it - just take the whole thing."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Objective: [E] For Science™
Location: Belsavis, Starport
Allies: [4x] Qo'saarai Tuk'ata.
[1/35]

"Stop scratching it." the chastisement didn’t have much force behind it though. Cerita was far too enthralled by the readings she had received from the Alliance Research Team just a few moments ago, the extrapolations were amazing and if the assumptions were correct?

Then they had finally gotten that breakthrough they had needed so desperately.

"It… itches." Skaara replied indignantly, but relented either way. The Tuk’ata knew that it wouldn’t do much good to the scar tissue in the long run.

Cerita rolled her eyes. "You are a big boy, Skaara. It’s just a minor necrotic bite from a zombie, you will walk it off."

Clearly downplaying the bite, but that was for his own good. The efforts she had poured into localizing and then isolating the infection had been considerable. It wouldn’t spread - so Skaara wouldn’t have to worry much about turning into a zed himself, but there could be some… involuntary muscle twitches in his left shoulder sometimes. Maybe residue from the corruption, that little portion of his muscle actually being converted into a necro zed or something entirely else.

She sadly hadn’t had the time to figure that out yet.

The Tuk’ata grunted, before walking out of the room and into the little hangar bay of their ship. The rest of his brethren were already gearing up and packing up the equipment for field-testing.

They would rendezvous with Alliance R&D near the research site and take it from there.

 

[Avalore Eden]

Forward Command - Medical Tents
[member="Trix Bastin"]

Despite the notion of be prepared for anything the Medics and Healers operated by, it was a difficult thing to actually do. The nature of things like the Darkside mixed with the ancient and unknown never served a hearty dish of exactly what you expected. Avalore was up Wit's Creek by the time Trix stumbled through the tent flap and rather covered in blood herself. Someone else's blood, but blood all the same.

"Frack it - just take the whole thing."

"Master Eden...?" an attending Nurse looked around for the brunette who carved her way through a line of Healers and Medics working to save a soldier from bleeding out of a particularly large, gaping wound on his abdomen.

She moved with a calculated haste, making way for the Padawan with two Healer Learners in tow, "That won't be necessary Padawan Trix - take her over to Toxin Control, clean the wounds but do not administer anything." The Healers moved forward to assist Trix, leading her over to a smaller side tent where she was helped onto an examination table. One Healer tended to the bandages at her shoulder and neck while the other recorded her vitals.

Avalore reappeared with a fresh smock and a shoebox sized wooden container in her arms.

"Padawan Trix my name is Master Eden. Reports have come in of the creatures in the temple but they haven't been very clear. I know you're in a lot of pain but if you could describe to me what you encountered in there it would be immeasurably helpful to my team."

 

[Marcello Matteo]

((OOC: Sorry for the delay!))

Objective D
[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

Marcello could only laugh at the entity. For a moment, the Rogue Master questioned the quality of a galaxy in which so many spirits and non-corporeal entities vaunted lofty insinuations of ancient ability and knowledge beyond the cognitive capability of the galaxy's current sapient inhabitants. "Yeah. Unfortunately, you do not predate the written word...which is a pretty viable method of preserving the historical actions of our ancestors. However, I will entertain your question with the answer 'no'. I put full stock only in that which I experience for myself. You need not purport some enigmatic strength or wisdom to me, World Razer. In the end of the day, I can walk from this prison and do as I please. You enjoy no such freedom. Now that we're acquainted, what I want to know is...what is truly your purpose? What do you desire?"

The Rogue Master would never allow a preconceived notion to prevent him from gaining intelligence. Perhaps the World Razer could be an asset of some sort, perhaps it could not. He preferred to make that decision real time.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Objective: [E] For Science™
Location: Belsavis, Starport
Allies: [4x] Qo'saarai Tuk'ata.
[02/35]

They walked off the ramp and it retreated back into the framework of the ship behind them. The starport of Belsavis was a bustle of activity: Galactic Alliance personnel speaking and cooperating with OmegaPyre personnel - not a surprise there, the Omega Protectorate had controlled these parts of space for a very, very long time. It only made sense for the Alliance to ask for Pyre aid when it came to securing the system, they knew the lay of the… land and even this starport had been established by the Protectorate back in the day.

"Lady Cerbera!" The voice knocked her out of her revery. Metallic, high-pitched with a soft whine and whir in between. A droid then. She looked around, until she located the source of the voice.

There. It was an IG-32, derivative of the ancient IG-88 assassin droid. Holowan Laboratories had been hard at work when it came to the service industries: where once the Galaxy had been positively swamped with service droids, but only a few big names were producing military products? Well, it was different now, the economical situation of today meant that almost everyone and their mothers tried to get a piece of the military-industrial complex.

So Holowan decided to get some action from the commercial industry.

"Miss Cerbera!!" Finally the droid managed to reach them through the thick crowds of civilians and official personnel. He drew a few frowns in response, but that couldn’t be helped now.

"...yes?" The Alchemist responded calmly, while assessing the situation.

Skaara and his brothers stopped a few meters further, but didn’t approach them just yet. They were probably checking out the environment to see if nobody was… lining up shots or whatever.

"Oh, goodness gracious, I hoped I would be able to reach you here! Let me tell you, I was right anxious, I was!"

She sighed. "Eey Gee thirty-two, yes?" The droid nodded enthusiastically in response.

"Please speed this up, I have a meeting to get to."

"Oh, yes! That’s why I am here, mistress Cerbera. I have a very important message for you."

 

[Saffron]

Plawal Rift
Omega Pyre - Star Caf
Arcenaeu Trade Company - PharmaTech
12/37

Then there were the Research & Development Facilities that spanned at the center of the agricultural hectares. It is in fact the largest division within the territory of these BioDome. This housed the many hectares of land used for the agriculture and bio-chemical agriculture of various botanicals and flora. These fields, orchards, and hydro-agricultural plots are serviced by Ho'din, Ithorian, and Morodin horticulturalists, alongside other sapients with a passion for the Eden Project.
Then of course, were the Residential Facilities. The residential area of the Bio-Domes spans for several kilometers and can house more than a hundred thousand people. It is here that those residents and researchers that work for Arceneau Trade and PharmaTech live. The accommodations are spacious, comparatively sustainable and use green energy, and most importantly, completely and totally free. This one featured schools, shops, a trade center, medical facilities, and sustainable energy through solar, geothermal, and algae energy production.

 

[Rhen Qel-Droma]

Ice Caverns - Deep in the Tomb
13/37

There are some actions that come heavy with price and burden.

Deep within the ice caverns of Belsavis, a long haggard male slowly trekked into the depths of a long winding ice tunnel. A cybernetic hand, simple and made out of durasteel curled round a lamp, holding it aloft.

The sphere of gold would reveal the thickly gray beard of Jedi Knight Rhen Qel-Droma. The right side of his face was puckered and scared by amphistaff venom, patches of keloid skin bare of hair. It marred up to his temple, where his shaggy peppered hair barely managed to veil the rest of the damage.

Solitude had brought healing. His battle on Contruum's ground pushed the old Corellian to a new point in his life. Having seen the Yuuzhan Vong face to face, the Jedi had needed time to recover. In that he had hermited himself on Belsavis. In that time he had come to certain knowledge among these tombs.

Knowledge that he sought to keep secret. Keep safe.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Objective: [E] For Science™
Location: Belsavis, Starport
Allies: [1x] Qo'saarai Tuk'ata.
[03/35]

"An important message from who, Eey Gee?" There were a lot of important messages in the Galaxy. More specifically, there were a lot of people who considered their message important. Perhaps it was important or perhaps this was just a meaningless distraction that would lead her spending valuable daylight digging around in the ground for nothing.

That only happens to you once, before you start becoming skeptical about any ‘tips’ people might share with you.

Or unique and rare treasure maps for that matter.

"The Alliance Reclamation Service’s finest, ma’am!" The droid straightened out even more at that last bit. "Monsieur Pelagia himself! He’s one of the most decorated agents serving the Reclamation Service for the Galactic Alliance, and he has found- well, why don’t I just play his message for you, why don’t I!"

Cerita’s frown deepened. Pelagia was a Tapani Noble House if she recalled correctly. What was a pampered noble boy doing in the service of the Alliance Reclamation?

Not exactly a shiny occupation by any stretch of the imagination.

"Why don’t you, yes."

The IG-model nodded once and then a recorded message started playing.

"Miss Cerbera, I am sending you this message because I am aware of your connection to the investigation labeled as: “MM-A-18”. The research so far is promising and the Alliance would never have gotten as far as it did without your input, for this I thank you.

A couple of days ago I uncovered an… I hesitate to call it an artifact, but as far as I can tell it is a holocron or perhaps a datacron.

My first instinct was to pass it off to the New Jedi Order, but my curiosity got the better of me. It took me a while and a lot of favor-pulling from fringe elements, but I managed to crack it… if only partially.

The artifact has a direct connection to MM-A-18. It might very well be the missing link we have been searching for so long.

I am sure you understand the significance of this finding, miss Cerbera. Please visit my facility in due haste, your expertise is sorely needed.”

Cerita waited to see if more would come, but it didn’t seem like it. A look was sent to IG-32 who was waiting very patiently for a reply. Another look was sent, this one to Skaara, before sighing and shaking her head.

"I suppose we cannot let Lord Pelagia wait, can we? Show the way."

Then to Skaara. "But in the meanwhile, tell your brothers to bring the equipment to the Forward Camp, no point in running around with all of it in tow."

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Noah Corek"] [member=Abel] [member="Ayme Katash"] [member="Sam Kazroy"] [member="Michael Byrnwulf"] [member="Trix Bastin"]
Objective B

"Come on Ayme," Jacen called. It appeared he was quite the negligent master today. At least Katash was still in one piece. With his group he moved onwards. No saber work was required, as the soldiers using their thermal goggles spotted the last two Sithspawn to try and ambush them. Soon the infrared noise from ahead of them forced them to return to eyes only. Jacen could feel the heat on his skin

It wasn't the heat that concerned him. It was what he sensed lurking ahead. An ancient terentatek. Possibly related to rancors, the monstrosity would be best approached with an orbital bombardment. The unfortunate few who had made it this far would have the pleasure of dealing with it on foot and without a tank to hand.

"Abel," Jacen called wearily.


Objective B
[member="Marcello Matteo"]

"YOU SPEAK THE ANSWER TO YOUR OWN QUESTION. I WANT WHAT YOU HAVE. CONSIDER TENS OF THOUSANDS OF YEARS, STRETCHING OUT IN UTTER DARKNESS AND COMPLETE SILENCE. CAN YOU IMAGINE SUCH A THING? DOUBTFUL."

 

[Joy]

Abel pulled his cloak tighter around himself as he trudged forward, eyes scanning for danger while his mind searched for Master Voidstalker. He felt the Jedi’s presence some distance behind. A sense of relief came through him. If he was goin’ to get himself into a heap of trouble, which was more than likely, best to have Master Voidstalker there to put him straight.

Right.

He fixed his eyes ahead. “Do you see anything?”

The female soldier whose name he did not know shook her head. “Nothing yet, Jedi. What about your special senses? You tingling?”

Abel frowned, reached out in the Force. The malevolence was still there, waiting. Sleeping? Curious, Abel stretched out just a bit farther with his thoughts. The demon woke, fixing its terrible attention on him like a serpent on a mouse. Abel felt so small and helpless in that moment that he couldn’t help but gasp.

“Yes. And I think it knows we’re here too.”

“What does?”

“Something. I don’t know. Something big and evil.”

The soldier snorted. “Great.” She glanced back at the remaining members of the fireteam. “Alright, one hostile confirmed up ahead. Possibly more contacts. Stay frosty and don’t get separated. Let’s move.”

The group moved in near perfect cohesion, rifles up and ready. Except Abel, he lagged behind, lightsaber held uncertainly. Wary of what lurked beyond.

They traveled along the simple dirt path, grass on the ground, rock walls widening. The Tomb itself was a sauna in the middle of a glacier. Snow had covered the ground early on, but the further they went the hotter it became. As they emerged from the path into an open expanse, Abel saw why.

Sulfur and brimstone assaulted his nostrils. The wretched scent of rotten eggs. He flung up an arm to cover his nose, gagging reflexively. Not an unfamiliar smell for a farmhand on an estate, but never so overwhelming. He peered over his arm at a vast ravine filled with bubbling lava, wickedly red. Even from this distance Abel felt uncomfortably hot.

A wide, solid looking bridge arched over the lava and connected with an archway that lay in the face of a massive cliff wall. Two stone figures stood guard before it, their arms crossed over their chests. Fountains of lava spilled forth from either side of the bridge’s end, pouring into the pit below.

Abel dry swallowed. “I guess we have to cross that,” he said to no one in particular.

Someone grunted.

“Well…”

He moved until he stood at the base of the bridge, gave one last glance below, then set his jaw and started across it. The soldiers followed. The heat was blistering, the stench nauseating, but Abel continued until they had all reached the other side. He hunched his shoulders and pushed through his fear, marching directly into the entrance. Beyond he felt the presence, still waiting. Watching. Hungry.

 

[Rhen Qel-Droma]

Ice Cavern
14/37

There were things that should remain lost.

That was the singular thought that ran across the Corellian Green Jedi as his path drove him deeper into the heart of the tomb. That singular lamp a beacon of light amidst the sweltering dark. His back was slightly bowed, but his stride sure. Purposeful as the snow crunched under his boots.

Many months had he spent in the wilds of the jungle and this frozen tundra seeking a purity of the mind. Quelling the voices therein. Battle with the Yuuzhan Vong and surviving it was not for the weak. Soon, he would be there. He could feel it in his bones. Feel it through the Force.

Oh how it had guided him thus far. An old ally. A friend.

Ever the light in the dark.

 

[Joy]

A steep stairway led down, down, down. Abel started when he saw a body laying off to one side, practically rent in half from the waist up. The corpse wore the uniform of the Vanguard and the trail of blood smears on the ground showed that he’d managed to crawl up, trying to escape whatever had done this to him. Abel kept walking, stomach churning.

The stairway leveled out into an atrium. A single opening led into the main chamber. Abel looked at the woman in charge, nodded.

She made a series of hand gestures and the fireteam stacked up outside the entrance, then stormed into the chamber with the fluidity of trained killers. Abel followed on their heels.

They burst into the chamber to find a scene of horror. Corpses of stormtroopers and officers littered the room, splotches of browning blood everywhere in streaks and puddles. In the center of the room was an enormous green rock with spiked protrusions jutting every which way.

“I don’t-“

The rock moved, unfolding itself until it stood on two massive feet, full four meters tall. Impenetrable scales girded the beast’s pale belly, while from a hunching back extended those enormous spikes. Claws the length of Abel’s forearm curved from boulder-sized paws. Tusks like spears jutted from a fanged maw, drooling venom.

Hope wilted and withered inside Abel’s chest , for he recognized this creature from the archives he had read: a behemoth of Korriban, a terentatek. Responsible for the deaths of dozens of Jedi who foolishly thought they could battle a demon and come out alive.
The four soldiers quailed with him, each one bending low and away, shocked by the size of what they faced.

“Run,” it came out a whisper. Louder. “Run!”

Too late, the soldiers opened fire. Blaster fire pelted uselessly against its hide, stinging nuisances. The denizen of Belsavis lurched forward, impossibly fast and swatted the nearest trooper with a hand. The claws raked into the man, shredding armor like paper mache and sending him flying through the air, spilling ribbons of blood before he smacked into the side of the chamber with a nauseating crunch.

The remaining soldiers moved back, trying to maintain a semblance of discipline. Abel wanted to run, to flee in terror, but he found his legs rooted fast, staring straight ahead. The behemoth lumbered forward.

“Jedi, move!” shouted the woman, darting in front of him and sending a grenade thunking toward the beast. A fireball blossomed around its chest and it took a step back, but when the smoke cleared Abel saw that the blast had barely charred the surface of its hide. Enraged, it charged them.

Shocked into action, Abel turned to run. So did she, they barely slipped through the atrium alive, but not unscathed. The beast’s claws lashed out, opened up a cut on the soldier’s leg. She cried out, a muffled grunt of pain, but kept running.

They managed to make it to the stairway, with the beast stymied by the atrium’s too small exit. For a moment, Abel thought it trapped. Then the wall shrieked, an explosion of steel and stone. The Terentatek barreled through the ragged hole, its enormous frame hunching to squeeze through, hungry – Abel knew – for blood. Not just any blood. The blood of Force users.

Terrified, the fireteam abandoned all pretense of steady retreat and bolted up the stairs, taking them three at a team. Abel lagged behind, wheezing, air rushing from his lungs. Burning. Muscles aching.

They made it out of the cavern mouth and spilled onto the plateau overlooking the ravine, the bridge just a dozen steps away, Terentatek hot on their heels. As they reached the bridge, the behemoth let out a thunderous roar that shook the foundations of the earth. Abel’s heart raced, terror catching in his throat, rendering him speechless. Unable to cry out. Unable to shout defiance. Unable to do much of anything but keep running.

Figures stood at the other end of the bridge. Voidstalker and the others. Hope?

The female soldier stumbled, fell to a knee, blood leaking from her leg, spattering the stone bridge beneath; the Terentatek close enough behind that Abel could feel the tremors of its steps. If he kept running she would die. He couldn’t let that happen.
Turning, Abel held his lightsaber aloft. “Go,” he called to her, voice slightly edged, knowing full well what this decision would cost him. Knowing he didn’t stand no more chance than a snowball in hell. He set his jaw and raised the saber high, terror and adrenaline blasting away exhaustion.

The demon slowed its charge, set one foot on the bridge, then the other. It regarded him with those wicked, beady eyes. Ancient eyes, eyes that remembered the glow of a lightsaber. Knew of the capabilities of those who wielded them. A shuddering hiss emanated from its maw before turning into a full fledged roar of defiance.

Abel’s heart was practically thudding through his ribcage. His hands trembled, both held in a tight grip on the saber’s hilt. He glared at the behemoth, hunching his shoulders. “Come on then, come on!”

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Trix Bastin]

Objective: Detour. New objective - avoid mutation and/or excruciating death.
Post: 6
Allies: [member="Avalore Eden"]

Trix hadn't reckoned on the tent melting.

It started as two sets of warm hands probed at the hastily applied bandage on her upper arm. A sagging of the canvas right near the apex of the tent, the fabric dipping until it hovered just above the heads of the milling healers.

Not a single one of them reacted.

"Er." Trix tried to point with her right arm and was rewarded with another radiating stab of pain for the effort.

One of the healers admonished her with a gentle shushing before she continued to unravel the field dressing.

A slim woman, her brunette hair brushing the shoulders of her medical smock, stepped up to the side of the examination table. The deference of the other healers tending Trix, notable as they shifted subconsciously out of her path, was enough to mark her as a leader.

Trix flicked her gaze to the new arrival only momentarily, before eyeing the collapsing roof of the tent.

The sagging folds of canvas were sweating now, sprouting tiny beads of black blood. The beads peppered into existence rapidly, forming into hundreds of black streaked stars. Each bubbled and stretched inky fingers out to neighbouring beads. The stars shifted, merged and slowly formed greater pools.

"Padawan Trix my name is Master Eden." The brunette said, her tone modulated and calm. "Reports have come in of the creatures in the temple but they haven't been very clear."

Trix attempted to swallow, completely ignoring Eden. The pools were beginning to drip. Tiny clumps of black coagulation stretched down, snapped and spattered onto the sanitised surface of the equipment scattered throughout the tent. Another slapped onto the crown of the healer next to Trix, trickling down from her hairline to chin.

"I know you're in a lot of pain," Eden continued. "But if you could describe to me what you encountered in there it would be immeasurably helpful to my team."

Trix dragged her eyes back to Eden, struggling to ignore the rhythmic thump of blood clots as they started to fall.

"They were...camouflaged." she managed, pain, exhaustion, and a great detail of panic layering the words. "Grey skin, claws."

Trix tried to swallow again, unable to stop herself flinching as a particularly large lump of black blood thudded to the ground next to the examination table. The rest of her description rushed from her in a wave.

"They didn't have any eyes...but they could sense me. Came right for me..."

Trix slumped back on the table, a fierce trembling wracking her body. The whole roof of the tent was now a heaving, curdled sea of black.

She was so paralysed by fear that the next words slipped free of their own accord.

"So much blood," she whispered. "Enough to swallow us all whole."

The writhing flood above her seemed to suspend for a long, single breath, before collapsing inwards on the occupants of the tent in a tidal wave.

Foul black blood swept up Trix's nostrils, poured into her throat, and wormed its way into her ears.

She opened her mouth and screamed.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

OBJECTIVE A.​

“All wings report in - we’re the fresh squad out.”

“Maximus, standing by.”

“Corkscrew, standing by.”

“White knuckles, standing by.”

“Vertical, standing by.”

Loske waited for [member="Choli Vyn"].

Sometimes Loske wished that she could spar with more than just her rocket launchers, and use her words against the enemy too. That’d strike ‘em down! Either way - it would certainly be distracting; and distraction was just what they were aiming for. “Accelerate to attack speed.”

The TIE Fighters were impressive little vessels - something that Loske hoped that one day if fortune indeed favoured the bold, she’d be able to fly around in. Or at least have the Alliance build something that could math their capacities. On all sides of her TIEs and X-Wings danced with death; tangoing through the stars while streams of plasma provided the music to their rhythms. Wings split like dragonfly gossamers versus tiny, sturdy spheres.

“Try to keep in pairs — one falls, the other covers for them. Nobody’s getting lost alone today.” Loske cringed into the channel as she pulled sharply to her right, narrowly avoiding a rocket that had locked onto her. Thank goodness for the forewarning of her radar’s wails.

The group heeded the issued command and peeled in separate directions as a group of incoming TIEs came for a head-on to the new onslaught of fresh X-wings.

Bright eyes detected a problem, though someone else communicated it first — “Two of them coming in at twenty degrees” someone advised.

“I see them,” the blonde noted “Cut left, I’ll take the leader. Choli - up on my wing. Keep your canons hot!”

​

“Watch yourself Bruno and..” there was a slight confusion in the pilot’s voice, but no time to analyze “Choli. Three from above”

“Yeah, I — “

“I’m on it, Bruno!”

“There’s too many of them - don’t go solo. You’re taking a lot of fire, back off!”

“Maximus, watch out!”

“I’m hit!”

The X-wing spun, sparking at first and then being consumed by a blossom of fire from [member="Raph Tritum"]’s canon.

Teeth grit, her voice was hot in the mic: “Let’s stomp these pawns and get in as close to the capitals as possible.” Beyond the TIEs, the Vanguards fleet remained poised and prepared; like the desserts kept just beyond the children’s reach at the family dinner.

And Loske had never been hungrier.

 

[Matreya]

Location: Javis
Objective: Destroy the Hutt
Allies: [member="Astrid"] @Darth Pikiran [member="Darth Vaildra"] [member="Darth Venefica"] [member="Echo Kora"] [member="Erebus Seth"] [member="Felran Natri"] [member="Gorum"] [member="Syss Rembala"] [member="Trechtus"] [member="Vengeance"] [member="Vilox Pazela"] [member="Xastuo"]

Damien strode at the head of a decent sized group of his trusted allies, while around them, hidden in their ways of training, were two dozen more soldiers. Pausing at the door to an abandoned warehouse, he looked to Vaildra, then down at Echo.

"Let's get it started." Damien muttered, "Remember that the Intel said they will have at minimum a hundred men, but upwards of six. So, everyone be diligent, and bring me the heads." At that, he lifted his right arm with the hand hanging limply relaxed...

Flexing the hand solid with the fingers extended sent a wave of Force pressure that launched the door before them inward. Lurching inside, he summoned his lightsaber to his hand, activating it mid-swing to slice through a man at the torso. The man had already been stunned by the flying door, but his allies nearby hadn't. Lifting the door with his power, he hurled it through the air like a missile - the result was a piece of metal that pierced several people, suspending their upper halves against the wall, while their separated bottoms slumped.

He hoped the overall death to ensue didn't cause the same on the Hutt they sought. Rumor had it that the being knew of a rare mineral that could be useful.

 

[Ayme Katash]

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"][member="Abel"]
Objective B

Ayme glanced at her master as she approached and rolled her eyes at his words. Her eyes scanned the collected group of Jedi and soldiers that were still mostly standing. The massive structure before her loomed as the heat of the rocks scorched her skin. The pain in her skull pounded to the rhythm of her feet against the stone as they approached.

As they passed the threshold a large beast lunged at the group. Ayme yelled and grabbed the arm of the solider next to her sending the man flying to the ground. Her lightsaber ignited and she managed a guard position before the momentum of the beast sent her to the ground next to the solider. "Hey you good?"

The man nodded as he gropped his belt for his standard issue blaster rifle. "Thanks Jedi, although I think my shoulder is dislocated. Gotta fancy power for that?"

The beast let out a painful screech causing both Ayme and the Soldier to turn their heads away from the horrid sound. "Nope, you wouldn't want medical care from me bud."

With a grunt Ayme maneuvered to her feet and faced the beast at the ready. "Ok asswipe, let's try this dance again now that I'm ready."

The beast narrowed its gaze and lunged with its jaws at the light from the saber. Ayme swiped then rolled to the right. Her eyes caught the sight of another beast heading in her direction. She faintly noted the fact that the beasts seemed drawn to her rather than the non Jedi of their party. That worked for her, she would rather the monsters attack her, it fed her protective nature.

She touched the leg of the beast closest to her, letting the feeling of temporary peace flow through her as she followed the circuts to the central processor and smiled as she felt the connection flip. The beast shuddered for a few moments then turned its gaze to the other beast running towards Ayme. It roared and grabbed the new beast with its claws, sinking its teeth into the beasts neck. Ayme rolled away before the backup programming corrected the error she caused.