Dominion The Red War: Food Fight || CIS Dominion of Kriselist

[Adron Malvern]

CRYSTAL CAVES​

Tags: Donne Toulemonde | Sabine Delacroix ​

While the two others spoke of a warning, the Exarch fell to a knee before the wall of stone. His hands passed over the cool, wet stones before taking notice of a soft, barely noticeable draft that came over his hand. He remained silent as the others spoke of their experiences of the warning before them. "A warning...?" He repeated softly before looking to the other two. "Stand back." He told them. The Exarch stood up, taking a step back from the wall before bringing his hands up, palms aimed towards the stones before him. He closed his eyes, focusing on the force as it flowed around him. Suddenly he curled his open hands into fists and the wall of stone began to tremble and quake. The stones began to crumble, tumbling down from the wall to reveal another pathway leading deeper into the tunnel system.

This tunnel was as black as midnight, with only a small, barely noticeable stream of water trickling down the pathway. Adron reactivated his amethyst blade before continuing down the path. The walls of the path went from rocky to smooth in a seamless motion. it was as if they had once been a channel for a source of water, which over the years caused the stone to run smooth. The Exarch ran his hand along the wall before pausing.

At the end of the tunnel was a vibrant light. A sapphire shine that could just barely be seen from where they were. Adron continued down the path, following this light while keeping his mind clear and focused on the task ahead.

It was only a few minutes before the tunnel came to an end and what it revealed caused Adron's eyes to grow wide.

Life.

A massive atrium was revealed at the end of the tunnel. Although they must have been several miles underground the atrium was home to the greenest grass that the Exarch had ever seen. There were massive trees that grew from the ground, rising several meters above the Sith Lord. A pure spring of water ran from one side of the atrium to the next. The entire hold had to be several miles long, yet it was clearly a grove beneath the world's surface. When the Exarch's eyes turned to the wall of rock above them he saw a massive crystal formation. They echoed out into the force, calling out to him in the deepest part of his being.

"Kyber crystals..." He spoke softly.
​

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[Visanj T'shkali]

CRYSTAL CAVES​

Wearing: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

"You sensed it too?"

Vis stood there, grinning behind the helmet's visor. She'd shadowed them through the caves, but even here, she could feel the palpable attraction of the crystals. As she stepped into the light, she made her presence known.

"What's up buttercup? Did you miss me?"

 

[Kyyrk]

T R E A S U R E H U N T
​

As if from nowhere, the Lord Commander materialized next to the group. Far more subtle than Visanj T'shkali , it was as if he had not even been there moments prior. Not to sight, not to mind. He regarded the group silently for a moment, then looked back to the atrium below. "Place your bets, folks. Beware life, beware death. What part of that atrium is gonna try to kill us?" Voph's brow furrowed under his helmet as he surveyed the area. Even to his sight, there was no immediately obvious threat.

"And by the by, that was an antique, Malvern." Voph turned to glance at the Exarch, the hint of a wry smile playing across his face. Not that it was visible from under his helmet. "Hundreds of thousands of years old, and you just break it? For shame." Voph shook his head in mock disgust. "Next time? Just use the lever."

Adron Malvern | Sabine Delacroix | Donne Toulemonde

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[Gerwald Lechner]

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WEARING: xxx
TAG: Open

There was always one thing Gerwald loved about the places the CIS took him. There was always a new bar to explore. While it seemed that there was a food fight raging all around him, Gerwald could care less. He was in a back booth with friends, or at least the kind that cheap booze could buy, ensuring that the nightmares of his sleep would be chased away for the few moments of drunken stupor. That was the goal anyway, and what better way to get drunk than by playing a few games.​

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"Right so here is the deal... the game is called never have I ever. I'm gonna say something like... Never have I ever killed a man... and if you've done it, you have to drink. We all take turns going around until we are all good and drunk and declare that... we are all winners."​

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It was a simple enough game.​

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Gerwald waved down a barkeep and ordered several bottles of whiskey and asked for a tray full of shot glasses. This was going to be an interesting night.​

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"Ready or not, I'm starting," he said as he began to pour the whiskey into the shot glasses. "If you're in grab a glass."​

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"Right... so here goes... never have I ever... received a child support check from the Vicelord!"​

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Gerwald looked around the table... He shrugged off a few funny looks.​

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"Thought I'd start it off with a bang," he said as one of the women around the table sheepishly took a shot.​

 

[Mic Gallagher]

TAG: Ashryn Shiari

Oh yeah! More credits!

Another shiny suit had contacted him about possible loot on Kriselist. Of course Mic already knew about the stories. Any self respecting trinket hunter would have. Like, if you didn't, you shouldn't be a trinket hunter.

So, when he was hired, he called up his usual partner to take on an adventure like this - the very gorgeous Ashryn Shiari . He did give half a pout when she glared at him over the holo-transmission. If she were there in person, he most probably would have gotten a shove against the chest to boot. But hey! She agreed!

So he picked her up and vooshed their bums over to shot-to-pieces planet. A lot had been rebuilt over the centuries, but there were still ruins all around. Nice! Hopefully there weren't any zombies they needed to run from. That can get nasty if you don't run fast enough.

Standing in front of The Purrgil they had just gotten out of, he drew in a breath and put his hands on his hips.
"Ready to go scratch through some dirt, Sheila?" he asked her, using her usual nickname for her. He then looked back to the ship. "Olly, please don't fly away while we are scratching in the mud somewhere. I'm gonna need some booze when I'm done." he told his obnoxious droid. Olly did not disappoint as Mic got a binary curse in response. Mic made a face at him before he turned back to the ruins they had touched down close to.
"Let's get our bums moving." he told Ash and made his way to the entrance.

 

[Ashryn Shiari]

Objective: BYOO
Tag: | Mic Gallagher |

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Why was it that out of everyone in the galaxy, it was Mic that could talk Ashryn into just about anything he wanted or needed help with? She had nearly set him on fire through the holocall via that glower alone, but ultimately? She had agreed and that was that. Next thing she knew, Ash was grabbed up and she and Mic were on their way. The journey had been spent with the blonde asking questions as she always did, though really there wasn't a whole lot of information she needed this time around. Who they were looking for, what they were there to collect, and a few technical things here and there. Otherwise? Just general chatter ensued until they arrived.

Stepping from the ship to solid ground made Ash sigh and she laid a hand against her hip at almost the same time Mic had done as such. Slowly she looked around the immediate area and her eyes narrowed as she observed. "Are you sure about this?" Yes, she was aware of the planet, and all of the goodies that could be found in this place. But fact of the matter was? "Looks like there's already people here and they're ahead of us."

A sigh slipped past her lips and her arms lifted to fold against her chest instead. "Hopefully they're not looking for the same thing we are, yeah?" Now she flashed him a grin. "Alright, let's get started. The sooner we find what we're looking for, the sooner we get paid. And this time drinks are on you after." Oh yes, she was certainly no less feisty than she ever was.

 

[Asher Sonata]

Asher hadn't been here long, looking around at the cantina, it seemed that things were getting out of control. "The hell is going on here?" He couldn't help but murmur as food was being slung across the cafeteria. Seeking shelter from it all, he would duck, using a tray to deflect the gelpberry scone that was hurled in his direction in the crossfire, deflecting it and retreating for the corner of the area which seemed to be benefiting from the ceasefire. Drinks were lined up, and the boy would take a seat down, unscrewing the bottle from his hip and taking a swig. Eyes widening a little as it seemed that the canteen that he had taken held a little more... spice. than he had intended. The whiskey like substance that he had thought were merely water caused him to choke and splutter for a second before feeling the warmth run down his throat. Now ready for it, he would happily move to sipping, as he heard the game nearby, interest piqued.

"I'll join in!" said the boy, scooching over to where the soldiers were deciding to have a drink, never have i ever was a relatively fun game, and one that his captors played with him often, looking around at the others who had decided to play it was always enjoyable to get those assholes to admit a couple more humanizing things, made his time there a little more bearable.

Though the first line went a little over his head as he grabbed a glass and poured some of the fire wine from his canteen into it, looking a little lost at the idea of a child support payment, while he saw a couple of them drink. Chuckling a little as they would all chug it back. Thinking a little Asher would wonder if he might be able to stir a little bit of trouble and see what kind of stories he would uncover.

"Alright, my turn! Never have I ever trashed a faction speeder or ship." Asher would happily take a small sip, eagerly looking around for others who might. Grand theft auto of a faction speeder and pretending to go podracing could be seen as bad, but, every now and then you have to floor the accelerator with the knowledge that the speeder or ship wasn't yours.

Gerwald Lechner

 

[Donne Toulemonde]

Donne took it all in. She had never seen so many Kyber crystals in one place.
A twinge in her neck alerted her to danger. She turned, her hand once again racing towards her weapon.

It was the Lord Commander himself. Her new boss. Her loyalties mostly sat in a complicated bundle within Adron Malvern but he had seen fit to instruct her to join with the KO and the CIS. She bowed politely to the Lord Commander, showing her deference. He was a intriguing figure and one that she doubted she'd find a sense of comradeship with. He was to be obeyed and little else besides.

"My lord."

She said allowed.

Adron Malvern Sabine Delacroix

 

[Rann Thress]

R E T U R N O F T H E K I N G​

Tags: @Whoever Wants to Join​

Kriselist. It wasn’t a planet Rann had ever heard of. Then again, most planets Rann hadn’t heard of. This one didn’t seem particularly special. Another step on the path to victory. Against who? Rann didn’t know. The war was over. The enemy had defeated itself and disappeared into the night. Probably forever. And victory was assured. Yet still, here they were. Integrating yet more planets into the ever growing sprawl of the Confederacy. It started to make Rann….a little bit jaded.

It had seemed like years since Naalol, Since Rann and Zombie @Sergei fought. Since only one of them walked away. Rann still felt the pain. That fight was the first since Rann was under new management. Darker, colder, more callous management. Yet beyond the physical damage he did suffer emotional trauma. Sergei was his friend. Well, his friend, but still. That even more so made this feeling strange.

Rann didn’t mourn him, Rann mourned him. Yet why was he feeling the way he did? Why did guilt, sadness, and mourning force Rann into his penthouse on Rannon for months? Why did he feel so depressed? He didn’t understand, nor did he try to. He shouldn’t have felt this way, so he endeavored to will himself better.

And what better way to return to normalcy than to participate in a good ol’ planetary dominion? Slaughtering legions of local defenders to establish control of the planet for his glorious Confederacy? Cake. A good time.

Rann brought his ship to a soft landing in the rally area. Several other Confederacy ships were already here, of course, and the buzz of activity one might expect from a first landing had slowed to an average day at your local shopping center. Confederate troops were moving along, yes, but far too few for Rann’s liking. Even fewer than that were Confederate troops actually caring weaponry. Most were carrying supplies? Food? Medicine?

“WHAT?” Rann screamed in his cockpit.

“Is this some...humanitarian effort? I….WHY?”

Rann gestured broadly at the scene with his hands, disbelief covering his face before he sighed and resigned himself to his fate. He ran his hand through his hair and scratched his head before standing and leaving the cockpit. As he lowered the landing ramp he threw on a poncho and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. Really, this was his first public appearance. He figured it should be a good one.

He looked at the makeshift CP nearby and decided against announcing his presence to the local bootickers or holier-than-thou Commanders with a chip on their shoulder. If Rann came across those like at Naalol, this planet would need a new Confederate force stationed here.

At the foot of the landing pad Rann halted, reaching out with the Force. He could see two areas of importance. Well, one area of importance. The other, a simple soup kitchen. A mysterious manor, possibly with treasure, or a soup kitchen. Hmmm.

Not a hard choice.


Rann walked lazily towards the soup kitchen.

The Return of the King should be witnessed by the masses, not hidden away in a tunnel.

“It’s not the most glorious return. But I’m back.”

Hail to the king, baby.

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[Adron Malvern]

INTENT​

Tags: Visanj T'shkali | Kyyrk | Sabine Delacroix | Donne Toulemonde ​

The Exarch turned his eyes to Visanj T'shkali who had made herself known. He couldn't help but chuckle at the woman's humor. "Much like missing a rock in my shoe." He jested, before turning to greet the Lord-Commander, Kyyrk with a nod of the head. "I did not care to take the route of the archeologist this time." He told the man, before continuing to level his eyes on the Kyber crystals above.

They gave off a shine that could be compared to the morning sun. It was so bright that the Exarch had to avert his eyes after a few seconds of gazing at the beautiful crystals. He glanced down to the grass below, bending down to brush his hands over the thick, lush blades. They were living wonderfully without the aid of sunlight. The Exarch glanced back up to the Kyber crystals above. He could feel them. The Force spilled from them in thick luminous waves, nearly empowering the Exarch with a stronger connection to the great nether.

"The Kyber crystals are bringing life." He said in a soft tone before plucking a blade of grass. He turned to Visanj T'shkali and Kyyrk as he looked over the bit of green. "The crystals seem to have naturally enhanced the state of life here..."

"It has filled the holes of nature." He said, passing the blade of grass off to Donne Toulemonde before looking back to the crystal above. "How interesting."

The Exarch stood up, making his way into the small valley of life. His eyes spied the small river that flowed through the dome. "Perhaps there is another way out of this cave?" He wondered.
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[Visanj T'shkali]

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CRYSTAL CAVES​

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Vis scanned the area. The energy waves in this place were off the charts! Slinging her rifle, she began to look around.​

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“I don’t know, but this place is making my sensors go all sorts of wonky. What’s your plan? I will say, blasting our way out would likely end worse than the last episode of ‘Game of Clones’ did. So, I am just gonna go ahead and say that the less boom-y we are, the better.”​

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That said, Vis opened her visor and produced a flask from her utility belt. Taking a belt of scotch, she offered it to the others.​

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“Drink?”​

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TAGS: Adron Malvern Kyyrk Sabine Delacroix Donne Toulemonde​

 

[Hisashi]

KRIESLEST
A World Crying Out

The Red War raged on.

There was a time when Hisashi could turn a blind eye. He could change the channel when the breaking news came across his feed. He could scroll past the opinionated posts across social media. He could simply live his life without giving a rat's ass about the state of the Galaxy. Yet, upon honoring a dying man's final request, current events became far more pivotal. In particular, Hisashi became the guardian of a rather ambitious woman. At first, she was simply the daughter of a wealthy man - a man who had ticked off the wrong set of individuals. Yet, in but a brief span of time, a crown was set upon her head. If Hisashi blinked, he could very well have missed her transformation from no one to Queen of Naboo.

And thus, the task of protecting her became...complicated.

Over time, Hisashi assumed command over the Queensguard and personally oversaw her protection. Officially, he would keep watch over her - and was a subordinate to the crown. Unofficially? Behind closed doors? Well, he was the only one capable of giving her an earful. For both, the arrangement was a breath of fresh air. A friendship founded upon strange circumstances. After a long day of surviving the court of Naboo, Hisashi often looked forward to their evening chats. There was no talk of "work" - but of normal things. Hopes. Hobbies. Things a young woman like Saraya Arenais should be concerned with.

Simply put, by the time the Red War began, Hisashi was well attached to the Queen's hip. Therefore, when her ambitions to bring humanitarian assistance to the troubled region were announced, an earful was given in private. A lengthy chat about wandering into a warzone and the threats therein. Ultimately, Mila's vision would not be denied. And so, Hisashi had the daunting task of ensuring not a hair on her head was moved out of place. Easier said than done.

At the present moment, whilst Confederate personnel worked in the soup kitchens, Mila was making arrangements for a permanent fixture above. A station would be erected, funded by Naboo and its partners, to provide immediate medical care and assistance to the peoples in the sector. The effort was further aided by the Confederacy proper, who'd be able to send any injured personnel there over the course of the Red War's stabilization efforts. Suffice it to say, the way was being paved - all that remained were a few key steps. Namely, evaluating the plans.

Within the confines of a Naboo liner did the monarch and her Queensguard find themselves. There was some time before her next meeting - and thus, she was pouring over the documents and datapads upon the many tables. Hisashi watched, almost amused, whilst taking a solid crunch out of an apple.

"So," he began, swallowing. "which style of station are you going with? I'm partial to the one with capital defenses."

Of course he was.​

 

[Saraya Arenais]

B Y O O​

Tag: Hisashi

Mila was not ordinarily one for battlefields. Apart from her title preventing her from being thrown in the deep end, Mila had never had to seriously defend herself from any danger. Ever. In her entire life. That was what Hisashi was for, and before Hisashi it was some other poor soul who had been paid enough credits to make the potential loss of life worth it. Mila had not given a second thought to their sacrifice in the beginning. They were inconsequential to her goals, only serving to keep her heart beating long enough to accomplish them, and that had been perfect for the young potential Queen.

However, now she had achieved them, now she sat in the seat of power her entire life had been dedicated to gaining… it was very different. She still had a gaggle of guards that she could not name by appearance alone, but Hisashi was no longer part of them. He had become a friend more than a guard, and when danger came knocking on their door she feared for his life as much as she feared for her own. Yet, he was dedicated to the cause. At first, Mila had assumed him to be dedicated to the credits, and that was more than enough to cement the notion of his loyalty, but now?

It was unquestionable. It was no longer bought and kept with money exchanging pockets. He stayed because he wanted too and because she wanted him too. He stayed because, since that fateful day his sword felled her father, they had only had each other for company.

Mila sat, hunched over a kitchen table that should have been rightly covered in all manner of delicacies, but it was not. In their place, there was a forests worth of paper, cream and white and in deep disarray. A handful of datapads shone aggressive azure fire up at the tiled kitchen ceiling, reflecting down upon the Queen in fractals of yellow, green, and blue. Slender fingers were entwined impossibly in a thick head of raven hair, displaying obvious and prominent distress in the young Monarch. Hisashi’s comment was the first time she had cracked a weary, yet genuine smile since the shuttle had landed upon Kriselist.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it will not need defences?” She cast her teasing gaze up at Hisashi’s towering frame. “When we are finished this symbol will be recognizable across the entire galaxy. A symbol of safety, of hope, of health. Of a new dawn for every living creature that calls this space home.” Her voice was confident, firm, as though she had practised this exact speech in front of her bedroom mirror for the past year. “It will be open to everyone, so everyone will have a vested interest in keeping it safe and ensuring the facilities are protected.” Her gaze turned slowly back to the mess of papers in front of her, which she shifted quickly to reveal the deep ocean blue construction paper decorated in fine silver-tipped lines.

Plans for the new station. Every beam, bolt, and nail accounted for. “Hopefully, anyway.” She followed up, with a little less certainty in her tone than before. It was then that she returned her hands to her head, where they once again tangled through the strands of raven hair. It was clear she was nervous, a rare and often unfound emotion in the young monarch. She had taken many things from her father, his ability to hide the expressions that would not benefit themselves or Naboo being key amongst them. It had only been recently that she had allowed herself to be true around Hisashi. “I just need to find somewhere suitable to place it. Close enough to Kriselist to allow shipments of supplies, but far enough away that it can be accessed by the rest of the system. Not to mention, Naalol, Nkllon, Balis-Baurgh, Ichtor 8, D’rinba IV, Stennaros and Copperline are all a few lightyears away, I need them to be able to access it too. We can't exactly afford to place one in each sector at the moment. I have to bear that in mind.”

Mila tore herself away from the papers once more, to flash Hisashi another genuine smile. “I know you’ll roll your eyes but defence is the last thing on my mind right now.”​

 

[Hisashi]

KRIESLEST
Plotting the Future

How many times have I told you?

In response to his suggestion, one uttered amidst sloppy chews of an apple, the monarch raised her head. The azure glow of the datapads shone brilliantly upon her face, adding a dazzle to her eyes that gave the man pause mid-chew. And though her words were uttered with that noble air that screamed Nobility, the weary smile upon her lips said that she was the same Mila. "We are talking about the same Galaxy, right?" he began, before tearing a new piece of apple apart with his teeth. Before continuing, he chewed it over, and swallowed - discarding the remains with a well aimed toss.

A flick of the wrist. Into the bin. Yobe as the kids would say.

"Symbols of peace are the first to get trampled on when attitudes flair. Symbols of hope are what terrorists like the Agents prey on. We can hope for the best, sure, but not recognizing the Galaxy for the chithole that it is...that's an easy way to get killed." So it was that Hisashi continued to do his job. It was odd how the role had naturally evolved as a reflection of their friendship. What began as a well-paid gig to keep a woman alive ended up being...well, he just wouldn't settle for seeing anything she put effort behind dying either. Keeping her alive now meant keeping her ideals alive too.

Or something like that.

Striding forward, Hisashi leaned over the kitchen table as well. Hands coming to lay flat on relatively clear spots - eyes staring directly into the monarch's. "Have you looked into the local hyper-routes? We tend to use the big ones, but the OPA is sure to have charted back roads. If you take those into account, transit times for the surrounding systems could be cut down." He only knew that nugget of wisdom due to looking into the most effective ways to get Mila back to Naboo if everything hit the ceiling.

Another smile. Defense was the last thing on her mind? As per the usual. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. Couldn't have a single piece out of place, being a Queen and all. "Color me surprised." he said, thick with snark. "And as always, you and are the first things on my mind."

At first, he grinned, satisfied with his rebuttal. But then common sense bit him. His hand returned to the table. That sounded way more work appropriate in his head.​

 

[Saraya Arenais]

B Y O O​

Tag: Hisashi

“Hyperlanes…” Mila’s face lit up as she hurriedly shifted the blueprints to make way for a compact holographic map. A touch of finger brought it humming to life, illuminating the room in a spray of crystal blue light. “Hisashi, you might just be a genius.” Mila’s hands danced in the air, sending the map spinning wildly as it adjusted to bring Kriselist into focus. “Sanctuary Pipeline.” Her finger hovered over the thin yellow line that stretched from the tip of Endor down to Sullust. “I can’t believe no one saw that.”

She reacted to his rather tender motion with a smile that coloured her cheeks a subtle shade of pink. When they had first been forced to spend time together, tenderness was not a word that Mila would have associated with Hisashi. The more the days ticked over, the more she was pleased to be proven wrong. “Yes, well…” She cast her gaze quickly back to the map that still lay on Sanctuary Pipeline. “Remind me to give you a raise.”

With less of a flourish than she had used to turn it on, Mila shut the map down. A satisfied sigh left her lips as she lent back into her chair. She had not realised how long she had been hunched over those papers for, but she could feel it. An uncomfortable tension across her shoulders, radiating down to her lower back. Unfortunately for her, work was far from over. “I suppose now we’ve picked a suitable place it’s time to present the idea.” It was always the part she hated the most. Talking to people she had no interest in talking to.

In the grand scheme of things, Kriselist was nothing. It had not been Mila or the council’s first choice for such a grand scale operation, but it was most in need.

That, after all, was what this was all about. Helping those most in need. Mila exhaled again, reminding herself of that fact silently before pushing away from the table to stand up. She took a moment or two to stretch the ache from her muscles. “But first, I think we both could do with something to eat.”​

 

[Kyyrk]

T R E A S U R E H U N T
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Voph turned to look about the cavern, his brow furrowing as he inspected the chamber. "Not an uncommon occurrence, I find. Kyber often has strange properties that many fail to anticipate." He was silent for a moment, before raising his arm to gesture to the opposite side of the chamber. "There is an opening in the crystal over there. Likely our next route forward." Voph stepped forward, leading the way across the chamber. "Be wary of the plant life. After that riddle I don't trust it."

He could sense something in the tunnels ahead. It would seem the party was drawing close to their goal. But there was some form of obstacle in their way. Different lifeforms stood within a chamber at the far end of the next tunnel. Perhaps this was what the riddle meant? Voph did not know, nor was he able to discern their purpose from here. Not with all the Kyber around. "Stay sharp, there's another group ahead of us."

Adron Malvern | Taiia Locke | Donne Toulemonde | Visanj T'shkali

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[Domino Dubose]

Tags: Acantha Malvern
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"Lieutenant we're coming in too damn hot!" Domino's co-pilot groaned, his hands wrapped firmly around the flight controls, attempting to level out the rapidly descending ship.

"Activate pre-crash sequence and burn our reverse thrusters!" Domino called out from under the ship's main console. There were few ships that Domino hated as much as the C-9979 Landing Craft. They were incredibly clunky and hellishly built when it came to interstellar flight. They did work well in a planet's upper atmosphere, however that was a very minimal range of a ship's flight time. Still, the worst part about the ship was the navicomputers. Ancient relics that never properly update, they had tendencies to disregard internal warnings of ships coming too close to smaller planets.

That was what was occurring now.

"Lieutenant!" Domino's co-pilot called out, causing the man to groan as he kept his legs braced against his pilot's chair so he did not slide from under the console. He'd been trying to get the defective flight find back operational, however the console was a piece of junk as well.

"Lieutenant!" Again the man called out to him.

"Kark, what?!" Domino yelled out.

"If you stay down there you're going to die! You need to strap in, sir!" Domino cursed loudly before pushing the paneling back up. Settling back into his seat, Domino struggled to get strapped in. There were over a hundred life forms aboard the ship, all Illyrians bound for Naboo. Who knew how many could survive a crash this bad? As they breached the planet's upper atmosphere, Domino cursed, flipping a number of switches on the terminal. "Come on....lift." He muttered, pulling harder on the controls, only to be greeted with minimal movement on the nose of the landing craft.

"Lift, lift, lift goddamn it!" He yelled, both pilot's groaning as they pulled on the controls. At the last possible moment the nose of the ship came up.

The landing was still a messy one. As soon as they slammed into the ground, Domino's head slung forward, slamming into the flight control. From that moment on everything was hazy. He could hear the fire and destruction around him as they slammed into the ground. He could hear every manner of siren and alarm ring out with a clamor. When it all came to an end, Domino sat in the cockpit that had been nearly destroyed.

He glanced over to his co-pilot, whose neck had been snapped from the harsh slam. Dead.

The final thing that Domino saw before fading into the darkness was the sight of Kriselist' evening sun, setting in the horizon.

 

[Acantha Malvern]

B Y O O
Domino Dubose ​

Acantha was sulking. Her sweet, Serennian features drooping, coupled with the perfect pout. Trapped in a room with no windows. A door that was locked. Like a literal bird in a cage.​

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Father did not trust her. Not with strangers. Acantha hated to admit that he was right to do so. Given the chance, half this crew would have already been her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She was no fool, she would leave enough alive to get them to where they needed to be. And, she had promised to the bottom of her shadow that she would not touch the civilians they were transporting. Acantha did not break promises, not to Father, but the crew? Surely that was just fair game?​

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He had not thought the same and locked her behind this door. There were things to do and comforts enough. Food enough, too, but it was never the same. Even humans said they preferred fresh over preserved. It was only natural.​

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At least they were almost there. There was an alarm blaring somewhere, Acantha could feel it vibrating in her ears. She had learned quickly from space travel that alarms tended to be good things. The only time she had heard them was just before they landed. She stood up and dusted down her ebony clothes. Another thing she disliked. Clothes. Feathers were by far superior, but Father had said it was proper. He said a princess should always be proper, whatever that meant.​

​

Suddenly, something unseen sent the ship lurching in a direction that was entirely unnatural. Acantha squealed as her light frame was thrown first to one side of the room, then to the other. She cursed in her ancient Sith tongue as she threw a wave of force against the oncoming wall to push herself away from it, narrowly avoiding crashing into it headfirst. Whatever was going on could not be normal. A final lurch, more forceful and sharper than the previous, forced her to cushion herself entirely in the shadow. For a few stomach wrenching moments, she pinged from wall to wall, each time the cushion of force protecting her delicate bones from shattering.​

​

By the time it had stopped, and the shadow had faded, Acantha could smell smoke. Fire. Blood. Her intense glass blue gaze snapped to the door.​

​

A steady stream of thick black smoke poured from the top corner. It filled the ceiling, or was it the floor now, with swirling ebony plumes. Acantha did not care about that. Her focus lay solely on the open door.​

​

This was what Acantha assumed other people must have called a gold mine.​

​

Father said she could not kill anyone, but if they were already dead, what harm could it do? She rationalised to herself as she stepped closer to the threshold of the door. And, if some of the almost dead ones just so happened to need a hand along the way, where was the harm in that? With one foot out of the door, she breathed in heavily. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of death. It taunted her playfully, weaving and twisting in perfect patterns like the smoke as it crept through the ship.​

​

With glee, Acantha lost herself in it. A hundred people, she had heard someone say when Father brought her onto the ship. A hundred people.​

​

This was shaping up to be the best trip ever.​

​

 

[Domino Dubose]

Acantha Malvern

Hours Later.
​

A soft beeping rang in Domino's ears. He'd been subconsciously listening to the ringing for what felt like hours. Hours of the same monotone beep echoing through his brain like a horrid song. His hand came up, slapping against the ship's console, silencing the final alarm that had been echoing out. His body ached. It felt as if someone had slammed him into a duracrete wall for four consecutive hours. His hair was matted with sweat and a nasty bruise had formed just above his brow. He could feel his neck was stiff, damn near immobile. It took him nearly a whole minute just to move his head to lean it back in his seat. He groaned from the exertion.

He'd kept his eyes closed for so long, now it felt odd to open them, only to be greeted by the near-black cockpit. There was one thing he could see. Outline by moonlight, the older man who had served as his co-pilot. He was in the exact same position that he'd been when Domino had blacked out. There was some emotion that flowed, but Domino could not focus on it. He pushed himself up from his seat with a groan, pulling at his restraints while he did. The belts came free and Domino was able to very slowly make his way out of the pilot's chair.

His first stop was the med kit, kept in a compartment behind the chair. They didn't have anything perfect, as most medical supplies were kept in the med-bay, which was most likely a pile of rubble by now. Still, some painkillers to take the edge off were good enough.

Domino struggled to orient himself, likely from a concussion. Still, he walked over to a control terminal and tapped into it. Nothing.

"Main power line must have been destroyed." He coughed out. The blast doors had been automatically sealed during the rapid descent, luckily there was a manual switch to free them from their sealed position. Domino activated the switch before grabbing his duty belt from the rack. He wrapped it around his waist before checking the blaster in the holster. It seemed functional, yet he pulled it out and waited for the activation light to come on, once it did he tucked it back where it belonged.

With nothing more to be done in the cockpit, Domino moved into the depths of the ship.

It was a horrendous sight. The entire ship had been destroyed in the crash, with many halls and corridors crushed into the surrounding terrain.

It was nearly thirty minutes of moving through the ship at a near crawl before Domino glanced around. Realization had donned on him, quickly.

"That was the third passenger bay I passed...Where are all of the people?" He muttered to himself, before turning his eyes to the ground below. It was slick, a long thin crimson line drawn deeper into the shadows of the ship.

Against his better judgement, he followed the streak of blood.

 

[Acantha Malvern]

B Y O O
Domino Dubose ​

One soul, two souls, three souls, four… The shadow sang in its haunting tone. Five bodies, six bodies, seven bodies, more! Acantha replied in her giggling, girlish voice. A rather unique and amusing tune Acantha had heard a variation of, by the children of Illyria singing in the marketplace one day. A counting song they used to share out sweets, or credits if they were rich enough.

If the scene was carnage before Acantha arrived, then there was no accurate word to describe what was left in her wake.

In her true form, she had skipped merrily from one passenger bay to another, singing her haunting tune. To those on the verge of dying, she must have appeared an angel of death. A figure cloaked in ebony feathers, sharp claws, and talons alike, come to guide them to the nether. The reality was far more horrific, but they would never realise. In the last passenger bay, Acantha was enjoying the last strands of a soul. Black tendrils of soupy smoke streamed from her victim, which Acantha devoured eagerly.

A noise, dull and heavy like the sound of a boot against metal, made Acantha turn her head. There was someone left alive? With reckless abandon, she cast the body in her claws to the side and crept like a shadow to the door of the passenger bay. The footsteps seemed to be carrying whoever it was into each bay, one after the other, looking for survivors. A fresh body might make a nice change. After all, half the fun was in the chase. She was almost settled on the idea… until the footsteps spoke.

She recognized the voice. Not personally, but the tone rang true of something she had heard before. Her eyes shut tightly for a moment as she tried to recall the memory. A man next to her Father, just before the entered the ship. Was he the leader of this vessel? That was the only reason Acantha assumed he would be talking to Father. That dashed the idea of killing him. There would be no end of trouble if it were discovered that he had died several hours after the crash.

Acantha quickly glanced back at the bodies strewn across the floor, and suddenly, the reality sunk in.

More than half of the passengers had been alive when she found them. If Father found out, he would not be pleased.

The creation stepped back from the door slowly. Her terrifying form disappearing the further away she got. It was a task that, when she was first birthed, had been difficult. Forcing herself to be in her human-like form was like forcing yourself to sit in an iron box. But it was necessary, and as Father had promised, it did get easier. In her human form, her skin was still stained ebony. From the tips of her toes to the base of her neck. A few stray feathers lingered across her form here and there, but in everything else, she appeared human.

After a quick clear of her throat, and a plea to the shadow to silence itself, Acantha crept toward the door once more. “Hello…” She called out into the darkened corridor, in the most timid tone she could manage. If she could play this right, she could make him believe she was a survivor too. On the hunt for others that had managed to withstand the crash as well. Humans were so trusting, all it took was a shared goal or a familiar facial structure.