The Galactic Alliance Dominion of Belsavis

[Vexen]

Javin

Vexen came to an abrupt halt. She sensed, rather than saw the movement off to her left. Her little heart thrummed in her head. Two figures, cloaked in black, slowly approached. She heard the voices above the wind. They spoke in a language she didn’t understand, but the tone sounded conversational.

If she learned nothing else today, it was that Qorbin Fal’s Vanguard still have active temples on this world. Javin had been the site of one the first major battles between Fal’s forces and the Alliance. Times were different now. The Alliance’s strength had eclipse what Fal could muster. Then he’d found a source of power and funding in the First Order.

Vexen stayed deathly still. [member="Micah Talith"] would sense the tremor of apprehension down their bond. The pair turned away and continued up a winding path towards the hills above. The Wraith stayed stock still for another few minutes to be sure and then carried on.

“They’re dfinitely still here,” she whispered to Micah down the comm.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Ruby Wilded"] [member="Ayme Katash"] [member="Abel"]

It was hard for emotion to penetrate the walls of focus he had constructed around his psyche. However, he realised he could feel disheartened. The terentatek was bleeding profusely from multiple wounds. Jagged shards of rock protruded from its back.

“Keep it on the bridge!” he called. He immediately realised he had just whispered.

“Keep it on the bridge! He shouted as loud as he could as he stood once more. Jacen could feel blood on the inside of his suit. The Vanguard armour was strong, but it had its limits in a prolonged engagement. One rib, no two ribs, were broken.

On the far side of the bridge the GADF forces were loading another rocket. His arm trembled, he shoulder burned. Jacen closed his eyes. He couldn’t grasp the terentatek through the force, but that rocket attack had left him with plentiful ammunition. Large stones, small rocks, dust. All of it swirled up into a cloud of debris. Then it rushed towards the beast, spiralling around its head. Dust seared its eyes and sharp jagged rocks ground against its hide. It held still, unsure of what to do.

 

[Kuvantu]

Objective E: Rebellion
Allies: Coalition, mercs
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance

Much like the two bounty hunters that had come here before him, Kuvantu had landed on the estate which the coalition's instructions specified to meet on. There were several of what seemed to be militiamen here. It would have been easier to spot any respectable mercenaries or bounty hunters within. Many rather enjoyed wearing similar heavy armors, all of them alike made to withstand an entire arsenal of weapons. To be honest, the Vagaari there wore little more than the militiamen themselves. Some spotty ceramic armor scrapped from corpses in the wreckages that he occasionally scaveneged. On his head was a simple rice hat to protect him from the sun and rain if there would be such On his legs and wrists were various makeshift instruments often employed by bounty hunters, including a grappling cable. There he had laid out on the ground a charric rifle in pieces which he was practicing assembling over and over to improve his speed. The man began to talk directly to the two other bounty hunters. Of course such an action would garner his attention. He finished assembling his rifle and slung it over his shoulder and began to approach him without a word.

[member="Fatty"]
[member="The Executor"]
[member="Vex Kumud"]

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective E - Fortifying the Belsavis system
Post: 5/37
Allies: The Galactic Alliance
Enemies (or soon to be anyways): Oversector Coalition [member="Fatty"]

"Master Raaf, initial reports about Javin were mistaken," a comm officer informed her. "A vast amount of traffic is heading towards the Abraxas system, mainly mercenary forces. It would seem someone is gearing up to attack somewhere."

"Quite possibly us," Taeli mused aloud, reading the report and request from [member="Elaine Thul"]. "It would seem that transmission from within the Tomb was directed out towards this assembling force. I think we need to accelerate preparations here. Have ... Thul keep her forces on standby if she wants to remain. Alert the rest of our forces here of the developing situation, and let High Command know ... we may need to strike first to deal with this potential enemy."

"Yes, Master Raaf," and the officer left her to send out messages to the rest of the GA forces on the planet.

Spoiler

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Avalore Eden"] [member="Micah Talith"] [member="Vexen"] [member="Aeron Kreelan"] @and everyone else

 

[Elaine Thul]

11/37
Objective: C
Allies: The Glorious Alliance, [member="Taeli Raaf"]
Enemy: Evil Overlord, [member="Fatty"]

She got a reply she was told not to stand down, this complexed her for a bit. Something must be happening, but they must be unsure what. She then order her commander, Get the men in a defensive formation, and tell them to stand by. He looked confused and asked as if to say what, But my'lady the Esh-Kha are dead, or secure in their stasis pods. As far we can tell they defeated the beast, what else is there to do. She looked as if to say, I am in command not you, and then replied I said get them men in a defensive formation NOW! He did not question her again, her troops set themselves up. They used the tunnels as bunkers, in case of air attack. Thul reapers were placed to act as a defensive line, power cord where linked to them as well. Those that were not need information to cover in the tunnels, some dug some fox holes for themselves.
Her personal housecarls, started setting up a command base for her. Artillery positions were set up, and scouts platoons head out to check for incoming threats.

 

[Micah Talith]

Javin

[member="Vexen"]

[ Be careful then. Stay in your shadow. ]

They’d gone hunting earlier, the construction of her armor now complete. Micah had opted for the imbuement of the leather to scatter Vexen’s Force presence, making it more difficult to discern her. It was only through the alchemy bloodtrail mark and their bond that the Talith himself was able to narrow in on her.

[ I’m on my way. ] he told her. They’d been tracking Oorbin Fal’s Vanguard the past week, staying just a few steps behind. They were not meant to attack or directly interact, but to scout ahead and bring back information. Information vital to combating Qorbin Fal’s Dark Jedi.

Cloaked in the Force, Micah slowly drew nearer, following the trail and origin of that alchemical mark. He half wondered if this was how his father had felt when he had tracked him down upon Contruum?

Likely so.

 

[Vexen]

[member="Micah Talith"]
Javin

Vexen trod a careful path forwards. Unlike Micah she was treading new ground and couldn't afford to be hasty. As Micah approached both ears pricked up and twisted back towards him. He really was an exceptional tracker, with both training and an genetic disposition towards the art. Yet not many things could move near Vexen without her ears turning to face them. Rather than point or speak, she managed to relay the abstract concept of drawing his attention to a particular point through the Force. Her more subtle control of the Force was improving. She'd always had a natural talent for mind tricks, yet now she knew she had used all the subtlety of a breeze-block to batter down an individual's free will. In those days she had mostly smashed their mind with the concept of 'don't look at me' or 'you can't see me'.

Such a trick was hardly going to work on one of Fal's apprentices. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. There could be as many as fifty of them here. She was drawing his attention to the squat ziggurat nestled ahead of them. The New Jedi Order had already purged this location, but had not the time to tear it down stone by stone. There was movement at the base of the structure. Micah had keen eyes, but when it came to sorting out shapes in the shadows she had the edge.

Four of them. Keep still, the might catch out silhouettes against the stars.

 

[Fatty]

Objective E - REBEL
Allies - Members of the Oversector Coalition, and hired Mercenaries such as [member="Cyrus Tregessar"], [member="KeCholo"], [member="Vex Kumud"], and [member="The Executor"]
Enemies - The Galactic Alliance, like [member="Taeli Raaf"], or [member="Elaine Thul"]
Location - Abraxas staging area

"You come with an excellent reputation Mr. Tregessar, and resources I would do well to negotiate their use in the imminent conflict. If we are to be successful, we must strike quickly and arrive on the surface as quickly as possible. The Coalition's strength is not in the skies, and your fleet services even if non-combative are essential and critical to our survival. Without which, attempting this operation becomes impossible. Additionally, mercenaries of your caliber will further support what passes for our militant forces. How soon can you get confirmation that your forces will attack Belsavis whilst the Galactic Alliance attempts to secure their control? We haven't much time." The Governor realized the longer they waited, the more difficult it would become to enact into reality. For the last few days already mercenaries and militias have been landing on Abraxas, in the next couple of days, the presence building on Abraxas will have been here for a week, and the Governor dared not wait longer than that.

Their resources were already limited, and time was running out. If they did not win, they would be unable to repay their mercenaries, and as such the Coalition was financially bankrupt. They would suffer massive inflation, and the Oversector would crumble under the pressure of failure. They would fight for every inch of the Oversector against the Alliance, even when it was more likely to destroy them. That was the entire spirit of a rebellion, to fight against seemingly impossible odds, and hope to prevail out of extraordinary circumstances.

The Tunroth though, were not so hopeful, and it crippled the Coalition for it. Their lack of confidence is what drove Ryker to contact so many mercenaries offering such elaborate methods of repayment he was not entirely sure he could back up in the future. All he knew is that there was a Superweapon on Belsavis, and that it must be destroyed or stopped at any cost... even the cost of war and the death of his people. He would need to publicize this war in a light that could be swallowed by the people of Javin, and Tunroth, the whole Oversector deserved to be brought to a higher morale. Propaganda would be the only answer to his problems, and he knew just the man for it ([member="Émile Roux"])

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

​

On the Abraxas Welcoming Estate...​

​

[member="Kuvantu"] entered a different room than the one occupied by [member="Vex Kumud"], [member="The Executor"], who seemed perplexedly silent next to the four Tunroth Hunters, the elite of the Coalition. This mercenary would be met with a Tunroth as well, accompanied by an Abraxas human. The Tunroth that Kuvantu would meet, was rather old for his kind, old and cranky. He was not pleased he was delegated to watch over and assess mercenaries for hire while the rest of the commune gathered and hunted wild beasts transported from Jircho-Reslia. He could only imagine what it was like right now, he would be thrilled. He looked down upon the new Mercenary, and asked a similar question.

"So you're lookin' to be be given fortunes to fight for us, huh? What have you actually to offer us in your services? Why should I approve your fundin? Give me a reason, if ya can." His voice boomed, while his mind wandered to battle. He hoped the mercenary would let him test his skills against him, as the massive Tunroth still had a lot in him despite his age, and it would truly assess the Mercenaries martial skill as a soldier. Obviously he would allow the smaller mercenary the advantage of a melee weapon, while he would use his fists alone. It wouldn't be fair otherwise.

***​

Over by the commune, a single hunter leads a group of his kin into the forest, chasing a six legged creature with massive teeth. With bow in hand, he jogs through the foliage with a quiet grace, nostrils to the air as he absorbed the scent into his membranes, taking a deep breathe every once in awhile to really gather the trail. These suckers were particularly stinky, and he had gotten used to its stench on the way here, so the stench was even more potentially capable of being tracked. It was no challenge at all to track something so familiar as an animal once at your side for the past several days. It had a familiarity to it, that begged him to put it in his stomach.

He was hungry like an animal, but he did nothing to disgrace the sacredness of his tools. In a moment, he stopped. The others in the group responding in kind without his voice or visual acknowledgement. They could smell it too. The bow low to the ground, his strength gripped the chord tightly, while the other reached for an arrow tipped in the customary stun poison.

Then he waited...

 

[Gulliver Foyle]

Objective E - REBEL
Allies - Members of the Oversector Coalition, and hired Mercenaries [member="Fatty"]
Enemies - The Galactic Alliance, like Taeli Raaf, or Elaine Thul
Location - Abraxas staging area

Gulliver stepped off his shuttle and breathed in the air of yet another new world. He was quite used to travelling the galaxy, seeing new sights, meeting new people, and trying to blow them up. Nearly his entire adult life had been devoted to the cause, whatever cause that may be. Last month, it was assisting with a coup. This month, offering his services to a rebellion of some kind. The details had been kinda fuzzy, but he reckoned that could be sorted out.

Waiting at the edge of the system was a modified transport that carried the load for this mission: 10 155mm howizters and assorted crews. It wasn't a whole lot in the grand scheme of things, but he was hesitant to commit more without information, and was under the impression that there might be a chance to work with existing assets. One could never had too much artillery, but one also never brought more than the customer could afford, and if he could work the customer's forces into his own for the mission, so much the better.

The old warrior groaned and stretched on his way down the boarding ramp, his battered joints protesting against being seated for too long on the cramped shuttle. He wore his usual plate carrier vest, with front and back ceramic strike plates, grey and green fatigues, sturdy combat boots, and at the insistence of his physician, hearing protection. The earmuff-style device would amplify ambient sound, such as voices, footsteps, and the like, which dampening anything loud enough to damage his already ravaged hearing.

From a clip on the right shoulder of his vest hung a semiautomatic slugthrower rifle. The 6.8mm rifle was fed by 25 round detachable box magazines, of which he had 10 in pouches on his vest. A 10mm slugthrower pistol sat on his right hip, and at the small of his back, facing left, was an old but well maintained kukri.

Gulliver cast his eyes about for the point of contact, hoping he could figure out what exactly was going on.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

It was the last rocket that did the deed. As Jacen's deadly cloud swirled around the beast's head they were all given a welcome reprieve. He backed away, indicating for the others to do the same.

"Clear!" he heard from the GADF Marines, even though they'd been given instructions to bring the beast down at all costs.

Hearing the rush of air as the launcher primed, Jacen dropped to his knees and swung an arm up over his eyes. There was a brilliant flash of light, a wave of heat.

Jacen opened his eyes just as the severed arm of the creature landed with a wet thud before him. Another few feet and it would have crushed him.

But only one thought went though his head: @Abel.

"Initiate MedEvac now. Get everyone wounded back through the tunnels to [member="Avalore Eden"]."

Can I even stand? He wondered. He had to, he supposed. Needed to get Abel back to the surface. A marine was already on top of the downed creature, putting bolts through its head with an anti-materiel rifle just to be sure.

"Save the hide!" he called.

 

[Fatty]

Objective E - Develop the Tunroth Commune.
Allies - The Oversector Coalition
Enemies - The Galactic Alliance
Location - Abraxas staging area, The Forest

The Hunter's name was Kiran Kaas, and he was a Hunter hoping to achieve the rank of Chirlan, only a rank above him. The coming battle grew nearer every day, and every day a new ship set down on Abraxas. The Governor of Javin, Ryker Kel, delusional into thinking the world was coming to end due to the whispering and scrawling on the wall, drenched in all of our preexisting fear of foreigners, called for war against an enemy they had not yet known. The Tunroth knew fear once, knew fear in the Lortans who slaughtered them like animals... but they were never so afraid that we did not know hatred and the determination to kill them back for their loses. Yet somehow, hundreds of years later an outsider can claim they seek forgiveness, and draw their aggressive natures elsewhere. The Assemblage of Three was right to question them, but now that the Governor so willingly gave up land here within the Coalition, it made one wonder if they had made the right choice to make the agreement that formed the Oversector as it is known today.

Kiran attempted to suppress these thoughts, as his bow leveled against an invisible creature in the brush. The hexapod was a powerful creature, and would take more than a stun shot to reclaim. It was up to his accuracy however, to ensure that the beast would be slow enough for the pack to handle. His silence, and all of the Tunroth who controlled their breathing, waited for the moment the first volley was airborne. I exhaled slowly, and trusting my instincts, I unleashed the bow string...

Whistling like a whisper, the arrow sailed through the air, and as it disappeared into the underbrush, it was followed by a swinish squeal. He had struck the mark, and in a moment, the pack launched forward as the animal was momentarily immobilized. They came out with the Kilter Staffs, and charged at the hulking animal. The beast finally being able to react to some degree, tried to raise itself on its hind legs to increase the appearance of its size as a means of protecting itself.

Kiran charged forward, jumping down into the foliage and using the amazing strength of his arms at times to grab on to branches of low lying trees and propel him forward as with the rest of the pack he led. He landed on a level equal to the beast, while his back all pointed their melee weapons towards the beast, just as he pulled a new arrow for his bow, and quickly unleashed another stunning shot into its trachea. The beast fell on its back and began to scramble its legs.

Though it still fought, it was already over. In two arrow shots he downed a beast ten times more massive than himself, and at least six times as strong. They began to hack at its leg while it writhed on its back. They all began to chant in a way unique to their pack alone, and Kiran approached the beast, prepared to put it out of its misery before dragging it back to camp for feasting.

 

[Fatty]

Objective E - REBEL
Allies - Members of the Oversector Coalition, and hired Mercenaries
Enemies - The Galactic Alliance
Location - Abraxas staging area

Unlike many of the other mercenaries who came to Abraxas, [member="Gulliver Foyle"] would be met not with a Tunroth, but a Lortan. These aggressive expansionist made up of what passed as the most technological weapon savvy within the Oversector Alliance. Though there would be support from Mercenaries who trained the Standard Rabble, these soldiers were more experienced than that. They were built to combat enemy vehicles, and in general provide technological support where the Tunroth would provide an influx of a great number of high skilled hunters. It was good though that this Mercenary had come in the interest of using available assets, as good leadership comes in short supply, especially when two of the available resources critical to combat were so diametrically opposed to one another. The Lortans would love it if the Tunroth would forgive and forget, but they would get nothing from the Elite fighting force they had become to be considered among the Oversector Coalition. They had in effect became rivals in attracting the greatest amount of attention from the riches of Greater Javin, and this battle might be the determining factor if they can be victorious.

This Lortans name was Maxicar Rudge, and he approached the landing platform Gulliver had landed on. He was followed by three others, and they all represented the Lortan militias present on Abraxas, who would be present in the Battle of Belsavis. Usually, for every single Commune of Tunorth, there were three Lortan Militia Units, and for every Lortan Militia Unit, there were three Standard Militia Units. Lortan Units were also renowned for being far smaller than almost another militia type. Occasionally the Tunroth gathered in a higher skilled commune of 50, which only sixteen soldiers less than the typical Lortan Militia... which is nearly two dozen less than any Standard Militia. This was due to the inherently small size of the Lortans, and that the militias present on Abraxas were almost the full accumulation of their organizational strength. If every single Tunroth died in the battle, it would make no difference to their over all population. Total defeat for the Lortans very nearly spelled out doom for the rest of the campaign. They need strong and effective leadership, and Maxicar hoped he could find it in the Mercenary.

"Welcome to Abraxas Mercenary, stage one in the attack of Belsavis! I am Maxicar Rudge, and I represent the Lortan militias here in the Oversector Coalition. We don't have much to offer now of course, but we will be entirely indebted to the good people like you supporting our resistance against the militant rise of the Galactic Alliance. Their expansion cannot be allowed to continue, especially if our reports are true about the presence of a Superweapon on Belsavis. What services are you here to provide?" A Lortan behind him looked back, and saw a pack of Tunroth dragging some six legged carcass into their camp. Their skill was extraordinary, even for a veteran solider like him. It would do them all good, if they would just work with the Lortans... but that was an intrinsic weakness in their support of the Coalition. No matter how are the Lortans tried to make amends, the victims of the Reslian Purge refused to acknowledge them.

 

[Gulliver Foyle]

Objective E - REBEL
Allies - Members of the Oversector Coalition, and hired Mercenaries
Enemies - The Galactic Alliance
Location - Abraxas staging area

"Artillery," Gulliver said with a grin. "I've got ten cannon, and if you think you'll need it, I can fly some mortars in too."

The mercenary pulled out a datapad and brought up the specs for his howitzers and mortars.

"Additionally, if you've got native assets for artillery, I can provide advanced fire control and coordination. I've extensive experience in coordinating between disparate mercenary groups."

Gulliver had been around the battlefield for the better part of two decades. Originally, he had never intended to get into the artillery game, but one or two near misses from friendly fire had convinced him that the most valuable asset on the battlefield, especially one where different mercenary troops were engaged, was coordination. With that in mind, he had devoted his career to perfecting the art of indirect fire.

[member="Fatty"]

 

[Joy]

But the power of the Terentatek could not be undone. Forged long ago by the most ancient of Sith alchemists, birthed eons before any of these petty humanoids had even glimpsed a sun, the denizen of Belsavis gave a rattling roar that shook the crumbling foundations of the bridge. One massive foot slammed down, rooted against the winds of the fool human. Then came the second.

Shhhhhhhhrkkk

The explosion lit the creature up like a glitbiter in a Hutt's horde. An arm flew off and landed at Jacen's feet. Dead, the rest of the beast - little more than a mass of pulped meat - toppled forward, slamming into the bridge and sending another tremble through the structure.

A tremble that only grew.

With a crack and a groan, the section of ancient bridge underneath the terentatek gave way, crumbling away toward the lava below.

Abel felt himself slipping, dragged inexorably down by the weight of gravity, then... falling. He did not mind the falling, even though the searing heat from the lava pits below grew unbearable the further he fell. Maybe when he reached the bottom he would not hurt anymore.

That would be nice.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Ayme Katash"]

 

[Fatty]

Objective E - REBEL
Allies - Members of the Oversector Coalition, and hired Mercenaries
Enemies - The Galactic Alliance
Location - Abraxas staging area

[member="Gulliver Foyle"]'s words would issue a smile and pleased nod from Maxicar. Artillery and Mortar fire sounded exceptionally pleasant to him. Even with the Lortans moderate superiority in technology (surpassing the Tunroth by leagues, and the Standard Militias by kilometers), such luxurious firepower was remiss from their forces. The highest form of vehicular technology they had was antiquated starfighters equipped for atmosphere, and landspeeders with weapons strapped on. They were a rebellion after all, and they had to be scrappy.

Maxicar would not comment exactly on how they were supposed to pay these mercenaries, as failure to capture Belsavis would not only cripple them, it would financially ruin them. The Coalition as he knew it would cease to exist, as it would be taken over by soldiers of fortune... and then ravaged by the battles the Galactic Alliance would undoubtedly bring here to extinguish such a tyrannical rule. So if this man was great at indirect fire involving existing assets, Lortans would put something together with duct tape if they had to in order to create such an environment.

"Well sir, while we do not have very much in the means of artillery now, we can scrounge a few things together right before the invasion. We all want to win this battle after all, you want to get paid, and we need to survive. I'll see to it that we all end up happy in the end. As for your payment, we've plenty natural resources and empty worlds you can be granted for your service to us, provided you win us this battle. Is this a fair deal?" The Lortan sincerely hoped so.

It was a good thing that the Lortans had chosen to adapt to the presence of Mercenaries and their superior training and technology, as the stubbornness of the Tunroth who were now dragging back their kills in record time, would be lacking in any support that would combat their archaic penchant for bows, arrows, and staffs. They would never admit it, but not a single one of them would be able to do the Coalition any service, if it weren't for Lortan technology saving them from enemy vehicles. Now they would be able to send fire into the sky and weaken the enemy before ever approaching the superior skilled aliens.

He hoped this battle would prove to them that the Lortans had changed, and were now in their best interest. Of course there were the occasional few Lortans who maintained their blatant racism, but people like Maxicar tried to mask it and suppress it as best he could... because there was no doubting the strategic usage the incredible strength and numbers of the Tunroth would be to them. Their once age old enemy, was of a great strategic value to their success. One could not reasonably succeed without the other.

Funny, how that worked.

 

[Gulliver Foyle]

Gulliver nodded. Ten cannon was not a lot, but given the uncertainty of the situation, he wasn't willing to commit more just yet.

It was one of those cold bits of arithmetic. The potential for pay here was, well, not high. Sure if they succeeded, the rebellion would have the coffers of a world at their disposal. Shame it was a world torn apart by war, which had a funny way of draining said coffers. Gulliver had always prided himself on running the sort of organization that put principle over profit, but there were limits. If an operation wasn't guaranteed to cover basic operating costs, it was already riskier than he liked.

There were two things that kept him from getting back on the shuttle and flying off.

One: there were other mercenary companies that had agreed to this crazy venture. As a rule, mercs were pretty pragmatic. If they weren't cutting and running, there was a chance, however slight, that there might be a profit.

Two: Charlie Battery needed to be blooded. Alpha and Bravo had already had a turn in the fire, and they were more or less good to go. They still needed to work on some things, but they'd survived trial by fire, and that was the important part. Charlie hadn't yet seen combat, and that was a problem. It was probably better to throw them at something like this, where they'd have a chance to really shine.

"For the moment, I'm not willing to commit more than a single battery of howitzers. That's not a lot on a global scale, but you might be able to turn the tide of a battle if you use them right. Not gonna lie, this is a risky proposition. If it looks like you guys are getting hammered, I will pull them out. That's my offer. Take it or leave it."

[member="Fatty"]

 

[Trix Bastin]

[member="Avalore Eden"]

Trix jolted into consciousness, one hand scrabbling at the naked flesh of her arm for a shiv that wasn’t there.

“Peace.” A warm hand pressed lightly on her sternum to stop her from leaping to her feet. “You are safe.”

Safe?

Trix allowed herself to be held down as she struggled to remember why she was here.

Hadn’t it been…snowing?

The owner of the hand, a young woman with tightly braided corn hair, spoke again. “You were wounded. Poisoned. But Master Eden cleansed your system.”

Trix flicked her eyes to the Healer’s Assistant and was rewarded with a gentle smile.

“Master…Eden?” Trix croaked, the words scratchy in the base of her throat. She felt a frown flicker over her features. “What's wrong with my voice?”

The flash of a memory niggled at her. A heaving wave, jet black and clotted, cascading down from above. Someone screaming, a noise of uninhibited terror, as the wave tore at the very roots of the tent and swept its inhabitants away.

Trix jerked in momentary panic and felt the pressure on her chest intensify.

“Peace,” the young woman soothed again. “It is over now.”

Trix pulled in a sharp breath, her heart still hammering in her chest. Her limbs were heavy, bearing her down to the table even without the aid of the woman hovering at her side. Her head was fogged with exhaustion, each thought churning sluggishly to the fore. But apart from a gentle ache of one arm where the Sithspawn had wounded her the rest of the overwhelming pain had vanished.

Trix swallowed heavily, battling the obscene and uncharacteristic urge to start crying.

What is wrong with you Bastin? Keep it together.

She gritted her teeth, lifted her head, then thumped it heavily back on the table. The sharp jolt of pain drove away the heat building behind her eyes. The swirling pressure of residual terror in her chest remained.

“Please stay still!” The Healer pleaded, a gasp breaking free of her lips. Her free hand went immediately to Trix’s head. Fingers threaded through short pale hair, a pretence search of injury to prevent her from slamming it down again.

Trix twisted in her grip, her grey gaze flicking from face to face until it settled on the small figure slumped in a chair on the other side of the tent. Brunette hair hung in a cloud about her face, almost obscuring the swelling that marred one cheekbone.

A jolt of recognition reverberated through Trix.

“It was you,” the statement cracked out of Trix, layered with a myriad of conflicting emotions. Gratitude, awe, and an underlying current of palpable distress. Eden had healed her and, in doing so, had connected with the core of Trix. The frail and fractured aspects of her self carefully cloaked from the rest of the world.

Trix hesitated, still struggling to control herself, before speaking again.

“I didn’t think that…I mean, usually, I can handle things…” she said.

Trix could not remember thanking anyone, at any stage, in her life. There hadn't been a single act done to her worth genuine acknowledgement.

The words, when they finally came, tasted strange in her mouth.

“Thank you.”

 

[Ruby Wilded]

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Abel"] [member="Ayme Katash"]

Ruby cleared the area as the marines called the incoming fire of their missile. In another large explosion the beast was slain. It's corpse along with a section of the bridge plunged into the river of lava below. So too did a marine and Able fall to their apparent deaths. A tragedy for the Jedi. One she wasn't to concerned about herself of course.

Sheathing her blade Ruby edged closer to the edge of the destroyed bridge. The Terentatek washed away in the flow to burn away. Peering over the edge she saw nothing of Able or the other man. Jacen on the other side of the gap was her worry now. She could see the blood staining his armor. It didn't look good for the man, but she wasn't going to allow him to die like that.

"Hey". Ruby yelled over to Jacen. "I'm gonna get you outta here. Hang tight, I'll be over in a second". Ruby backed up for a running start. She gunned the gas and with the Force propelled herself further than any normal jump. Easily clearing the gap by a few feet. Ruby wasted no time in checking up with the injured man. Ruby knelt next to him, not touching but just looking at the wound. "That doesn't look good. If that beast did it to you. I'm afraid you've been poisoned. Nasty lot Terentatek's are. Don't suppose you or anyone of your men happen to be carrying an antidote for it"?

 

[LT-137]

Belsavis System: Unknown Grid Coordinates.
Objective: E - Survive (Horror)
Possible Allies: [member="Léon"], [member="Arlan Zy'rosh"] (Status Unknown.)
Post Count: 3/37

​

The sounds of distant combat had resonated throughout the myriad corridors of the transporter's central arterial spine. He couldn't tell from where the deafening noises had originated, but the flickering embers of hope within his breast began to reignite. There were still survivors aboard the vessel, and that meant he was no longer alone in this oppressive graveyard of a Hulk. Managing to smirk through the pain that began to spread across his chest, Yun began to shuffle blindly through one of the many paths that had branched out before him just a bit faster. If memory had served the former Grenadier right, the corridor that he now slowly progressed through would direct him towards the transport's medical bay, and the barracks deck thereafter. It was too dark to tell if this was the right route to take, and all the signs that had been plastered on the walls were of little use. Had the power been active enough just to light his way, perhaps then they might've been helpful in orientating the wounded Smuggler. Clearing his mind with a shake of his head and biting his lip, the Carrion Mercenary continued forging on through the darkness. The ACP array gun was held loosely in his dominant hand whilst the other was wrapped around his chest, providing himself some measure of comfort and acting as a sort of fleshy shield should he stumble into a wall or another one of those creatures.

As he advanced through the corridor, the Atrisian was thankful that he had yet to run into either of the aforementioned objects, as both would've flung him further down the descending spiral of agony. His breathing became heavier with each step he took, as the frigid lack of warmth began to take its toll upon the parts of his boot uncovered by his form fitting body glove that lay underneath what remained of his clothing. Yun's fingers began to transition from a pallid shade of olive to an unhealthy hue of blue. He would have to do more than just find the MedBay at this point as if the circulation to his fingers had begun to taper off. The blood that may be leaking out into his chest - should he be internally bleeding from the broken ribcage - would create more issues with restoring himself back to Combat ready status than he would've liked. While that was of great concern to the man, the Atrisian felt like accomplishing one of his many objectives was of greater import. If he died, Yun had at least wanted to go out knowing that he had been able to do some last bit of good for the Mercenary outfit.

No.

Don't think like that.

You're not going to die here, Soldier. Another graveyard waits for you.

Breathing out another painful lungful of air, the Smuggler resumes his path and forces the fatalistic thoughts out of his mind. He suppressed a soft chuckle, knowing that his mind was slowly getting worse at keeping himself focused the closer that he came to death. How fitting, to lose one's mind before they lose their life. No wonder the dying spoke of white lights and family in the advance of Death's wintry bite. Now freed from the envious grasp of his thoughts, Yun clenched his teeth to stop himself from yelping. His forward momentum had carried him into the steely-cold surface of a bulkhead and caused the impact to resonate and thus shatter the silence suffocating the arterial corridor. He remained perfectly still, knowing that if anything sentient were in the area, they would've heard that sound. He waited, and waited. His heart was beating in time to his laboured inhalations. He waited. What felt like an age had passed, before Yun let out a silent sigh of relief. Nothing came. At least, that he could hear.

With the lingering traces of fear clutching at his heart finally fading, the wounded soldier began his trek anew. This time, having learned from his mistake, running his hand along the wall so that while he was bereft of sight, he wasn't deprived of all his directional senses. The freezing kiss of metal sent a jolt of pain through his fingers as flesh had caressed steel, leaving the Atrisian will little choice but to hover over the bulkhead as he trudged on. He felt nothing as he moved forward, and had seemingly walked for miles as he forged through the Central Arterial Spine. When and if he had found Arlan, Yun would mention never to contract a larger ship than what they needed; Who cared how much they saved by switching Insurance rates! Had they ever gone through this again, the Atrisian would surely be socking the man in the jaw once... or twice to get his point across. Hell, if it was Leon that bartered for this rundown and pathetic excuse for a ship, Yun would sock him too just for good measure!

Embraced within the darkness of the void Yun's fingers ran across something that had caught his interest. A moulded symbol that was affixed to an alcove. It was forged in the shape of a two coiled lines that were intertwined around a needle of some sort, which in turn had been backed by a pair of outstretched wings. A universal icon for the Medical Bay, perhaps? Yun couldn't tell. The Atrisian Symbol was nothing more than a simple crimson cross laid to rest over a field of white. This, He thought as his fingers ran across the icon once more, was strange to him, especially in the dark. Whatever it was, it didn't matter anymore. This had been the only part of the wall that had not felt like rivets or smoothened steel. Whatever was on the other side would be of some help, the Smuggler hoped. Groping the darkness once more his sapphire-tinged fingers had found the access terminal. Knowing that it lacked power, Yun dragged his fingers downwards and found the manual release latch.

As his fingers began to coil around the lever, he had heard something in the distance that caused his heart to stop in his chest. A wet kiss of oiled flesh smacking against the grated deck beneath. There was something in the hallway with him now, and if he had heard it correctly, whatever it was had dropped in from the interconnecting weave of air ducts above. Clearly, by that notion alone and the sound it had made when it had thunderously arrived, it wasn't a part of the Carrion Company. To Yun, that meant another creature had found him, and that he had to get inside before he was caught out in the open. Without hesitation, the Smuggler slammed the release hatch open and raised his shotgun with a tremulous arm. The creature instantaneously took note of its newest prey and had surged towards the origin point of the clattering gears and pneumatic presses. Yun breathed, calming himself as the mighty tread of the beast dashed towards him. He didn't have long. One shot was all he would get, and even then he wasn't sure if he'd get another. The door began to grind slowly open as the redundant manual release system had let go of the pressurized seal. The creature shrieked in what sounded like agony, if not mixed with the sudden thrill of slaying yet another one of the Transport's denizens. Yun didn't care. It was hostile and had to die. With his shotgun raised, the Smuggler discharged his weapon once more and was thrown back into the room as the recoil travelled through his arm, carrying him out of harms way.

A loud thump smashed into the deck after the resonating sound of his ACP array gun had echoed down the corridor. Had he killed the beast? He couldn't tell. In fact, everything was pounding. His head throbbed, and his chest felt like it was dipped into molten carbonite. That was stupid of him. He groaned in agony as he tried to rise, to pull himself up from the deck and seal the hatch behind him. No doubt that if this creature had heard him, others would not be far behind. More pain. More fire. Yun had to rise and pushed himself further than he had ever gone before. His vision started to go black as the shock was slowly overtaking him. Another groan and the Atrisian was on one knee, about to do something stupid once more and leap for the door. That was when someone else had rushed past him and tugged on the door, yanking it shut and sealing them once more in darkness...

 

[Sieb Tevv]

[member="Loske Matson"]

Space over Belsavis.

Raph gritted his teeth as the fighters screamed toward each other. He's not pulling away. Not firing. I'll take him d-

Bmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

The high-pitched frequency blared through the cockpit, a constant note. Raph's blood ran cold. Missile lock?

"Oh frik."

The bogey peeled off at about the same time Raph started to break away. G forces assaulted his body, slammed him into the seat and started to push the blood from his head. He strained to move the controls despite the force pushing down on his arms.

"Hhhhhick," he expanded his chest, breath rattling out, struggling to maintain blood pressure. Raph clenched every muscle he could. Wouldn't matter what the missile could do to him if he was unconscious. "Hhhhick."

The steady tone still blared through the cockpit. Raph could see the little blip heading toward him. Faster and faster. He popped flares, a string of hot lights spreading out behind him. The missile barely budged.

"No joy. Oh frik."

"Saber Five, it's too close, eject, eject!"

The act of thinking felt like swimming through molasses: slow and ponderous. Raph reached out to pull the yellow and black handle that would spit him out of the TIE, movements sluggish. His fingers brushed the top of the handle, then a grav train slammed into the back of the TIE and everything was white-hot fire.

* * *​

​

"NO! Saber Five, respond Saber Five!"

"He's gone, Six. He's gone."

* * *​

​

One half of one wing floated listlessly through space, twisting and turning lazily. All that remained of Raph Tritum's TIE.