Weekend Treasure Hunt 10: Lore of the Dark Side (open)

[Velok the Younger]

UNKNOWN REGIONS​

ELMDA SYSTEM​

ORBITING SOLOVARNA​

A cluster of small ships (ooc: you, for example) surrounded a recently arrived space station. The station served as a rendezvous point for Darksiders of every kind. A call had gone out through the usual channels, and more; a Force Call had summoned Darksiders to this place. It would have taken a while; this was deep in the Unknown Regions.

Elsewhere in the system, far away, a massive large-scale battle was underway between the Lords of the Fringe and the Sorcerers of Rhand.

A message was transmitted to all unaligned new arrivals. It included the face of Rave Merrill, currently wanted for ten million credits, a corporate magnate intimately linked with the Fringe and with the Tion Hegemony.

"Welcome to the Elmda system. The Lords of the Fringe have called you here to see if you'll take advantage of an opportunity. The battle you're detecting in the outer system has been going on for close to a week. Several days ago, a Rhandite command ship was crippled not far from here. The Fringe Confederation's assets are bound up in the battle, so I've prevailed on the High Command to bring in people who might be motivated to do our work for us.

"The Sorcerer command ship is two kilometers long and nearly broken in half, but redundant generators are keeping many of its weapons active, so your approach will be challenging. We believe it contains large numbers of highly motivated, deadly survivors. We also believe it contains the Rhandite equivalent of a holocron repository in the rear section; the bow section likely contains a training facility, with educational materials devoted to the Dark Side of the Force. That is your payment, if you are strong enough to claim it. The Sorcerers of Rhand can see the future: they know you're coming, and they know how you fight.

"Leave the command ship and its databases intact, or bring its data to us. if you can take it intact. Take your fill of spoils. If the Dark Side doesn't interest you, know that the contents of this ship are immensely valuable to the right buyer."

The message was on a loop.

***​

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SORCERERS OF RHAND -- CRIPPLED FLAGSHIP​

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BOW SECTION LOCATIONS​

Main Engineering​

Training Facility​

Main Weapons Control​

Small Hangar (potential loot in personal ships)​

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REAR SECTION LOCATIONS​

Bridge (with commander's personal stash)​

Computer Core​

Holocron Repository​

Main Hangar​

​

As with all other Weekend Treasure Hunts, stay classy, obey Wheaton's Law, and confine your participation to personal ships. Feel free to NPC the opposition as much as you want. The flagship's hyperdrive and sublight engines are not operational. I have no intention of RPing in this thread for a while, if at all; this is merely an opportunity.​

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I have no problem with you securing holocrons, training materials, lightsabre crystals, Force trinkets and so forth -- that's the point. Once you have claimed them, however, hopefully after several quality posts, please PM me and I'll tell you what's in the holocron or training disc you've found. This is meant to be a fun way to broaden your skillset and start learning a distinctive trick or two. It's not meant to make you a master of UberPower X. Do not be greedy, or I'll flat-out tell you that of the four holocrons you've secured, three were broken and the last one taught you Fireball Belch. Grab one or two things, be realistic. Savvy? ​

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Yes, the amount of work you put into it will help determine what reward you receive.​

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Oh. And tag your locations.​

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Merry Christmas.​

 

[Aethan Tannan]

Location: Tachyon Light Freighter
Objective: Approach Rhandite Command Ship

​

...the Tachyon Class Light Freighter orbited hovered near the space station amongst several other ships that formed a cluster around the station itself. Onboard the Light Freighter was an adventurer of sorts, a traveler, that had come here after receiving the message to rendezvous at this point and was looking to make a discovery of his own. Intercepting the broadcast message the occupant of the Light Freighter listened, weighed his options and then decided that he would accept the opportunity that had been offered to him in this particular scenario and it was quite the opportunity indeed. Coordinates to the indicated Rhandite Command Ship were punched into the light freighters navigational computer and it banked away from the small space station enroute to its next destination...

...Aethan Tannan was not a darksider, though he did carry the seed of the darkside on himself, he'd come seeking knowledge, a fortune and a decent story that he could pass on in years to come. Rubbing his stubbled chin as the Light Freighter came about and began moving away from the space station he couldn't help but mutter to himself..."The Fringers sure are feeling generous."...but this may have merely been because they were preoccupied with a different battle. As the starship moved away from the space station Aethan would relax, leaning backwards into the pilots seat of the cockpit, then he began to focus knowing he would need to master his concentration to help in his approach when the command ship came into range....

...he had plenty of time to concentrate though, to plan his approach and to mull over the fact that the Sorcerers of Rhand already knew that he was approaching their vessel. Maybe they even knew that he would be among the first to approach their vessel. Reading the future was not Aethan's forte when it came to manipulating the force, he considered his expertise more to be in line with the principles of motion both for himself and others, though the idea that the subtle lines of fate could be read intrigued him greatly...

----------------------------

...the Light Freighter would move unimpeded for an unknown amount of time, onboard Aethan had sunk into a sort of meditation to assist in clearing his mind, then in the distance the Rhandite Capital Ship would begin to come into view. Aethan's eyes snapped wide, then narrowed, he looked, straining his vision at first, before his features set into a determined expression. He was close, so close, it wouldn't be long now...​

 

[Krytu]

Krytu sat in the cramped cockpit of a small boarding craft that basically held him and a small storage bay. He managed to grab this craft from an old buddy of his that really didn't care if he got it back. Peeling away from the mass of vessels that had collected at a space station, he began a journey to the charred remains of one of their capital ships. Equipped with a blade with enough cortosis weave to deflect normal lightsabers and about two dozen of his barbed and poisoned throwing blades. These things would end any mortal life in about five minutes - even if they got lodged in a foot.​

​

The small craft buzzed its way along to the broken ship. The Kokku stopped breathing and plugged in a tube connected to an airpack and oxygen converter. The oxygen was injected directly into his lungs and increased his focus and determination. And just then his focus would be tested. Laser guns started pulsing in the direction of his ship. He blocked most of them with some evasive maneuvers and took a couple of light hits to his shields. But he couldn't take too many of those. His ship simply wasn't made for it.​

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The shots kept ringing as he approached the bow section of the flagship and he kept taking more and more. The lasers began to burn into the ship and tearing holes. It wouldn't take this damage much longer. He had to keep going though. So many goodies could be salvaged.​

​

Then another shot. It hit on the wing directly. He began to spiral. This would not end well.​

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Rave Merrill"] |

Keeping tabs on the Nightsister had become an obsession, rather a necessity. She needed to solve the riddle that was Rave Merrill. Until that puzzle had been solved, then everything she had done up until now was in jeopardy. The call had come quite some time ago. She had been sat in the offices of Chandrila DataTech, fulfilling the duties of her ultra ego, when a spike had come up in her relative intelligence networks. She had also felt a disturbance in the Force and tied the two dots together. Thus, she had set off, bidding goodbye to her employees at DataTech and informing them that she would be gone for a couple of weeks on a business trip. This was something that wasn't uncommon for Alicia Drey.

In the Niathal, Alicia Drey departed Chandrila for the disturbance. With only the Force guiding her and her assortment of weaponry hidden beneath her Sith robe, Darth Ayra was on a quest to find the Nightsister. But would Rave Merrill be all that she finds?

 

[Aethan Tannan]

Location: Tachyon Light Freighter
Objective: Board Rhandite Command Ship via Main Hangar Bay

​

...the Rhandite Command Ship loomed larger, larger still with every passing moment too, however it seemed calm and undisturbed during the approach of the Tachyon Light Freighter. Well calm and undisturbed until a barrage of laser fire started cutting through the area around the Light Freighter which shook Aethan completely from his reverie and caused him to turn his head in any and all directions. Laser fire was exploding all around his ship, the last shot skimmed across the top leaving a trail of sparks and some smoke in its wake..."Evasive maneuvers!"...split that mouth of the pilot who would have felt stupid talking to himself if he wasn't trying to avoid getting reduced to a spectacular explosion and the debris that followed...

...the Light Freighter started to weave in and out moving around the barrage of laser fire that threatened to destroy in. Onboard the ship Aethan grit his teeth, strained his eyes and started to steer his vessel towards the Rhandite Ship knowing that the closer he went the greater the chance he'd be blown out of the sky as it were. He adjusted the power settings on the Tachyon Light Freighter. No one was attacking him from behind so he minimized the shields there and maximized the the shields on his fore hoping that would assist him in weather the storm. After that he reduced weapons power to add to the engines ensuring he could make a quicker approach. Not like the small armaments of the Light Freighter could damage the Rhandite Capital Ship anyways...

...the Light Freighter started weaving harder, up and down and side to side, going in and around the laser fire. Another hit shook the starship and onboard a light activated on the control panel warning of something and causing the pilot to moan out..."What does that mean?"...he'd slam a fist into the panel..."Just keep working a little longer damn you."...Aethan's travels had served to harden him a tad, he was a bit rougher now then he used to be. Regardless it wasn't important now...

...as the ship dove around the laser fire another blast would shake it. One of the engines started losing power. The Tachyon Light Freighter had gotten close though. Very close. It banked around towards the rear of the crippled starship where the main hangar bay was located and preforming a very bad barrel roll and reversal that almost saw him crashing upside down before spinning right side up Aethan steered his ship right towards the open hangar bay. Only a force field between the interior of the ship and the abyss Aethan punched his thrusters and slammed through...

...his landing was not graceful. The Light Freighter slammed into the hangar bay floor, skidded at least a dozen meters and left a trail of sparks in its wake before coming to a halt. It didn't look good but it might still fly. On the plus side he was onboard the crippled command ship now...​

 

[Sal Katarn]

LOCATION: Main Hangar

The air around the outer edge of the hangar shimmered and contorted as a tall figure emerged from nothingness and missed being bifurcated by the hangar door by a mere handspan. Ash-hued skin tightened around his forehead as he peered at the forcefield securing the hangar, thoroughly nonplussed.

"My projections-" his musings were cut short as he realized he was surrounded by a ring of black robed, hooded phantoms. Angular white brows lowered over red eyes that burned with volcanic flames.

"We hAve BeEn ExPeCtInG YoU," the Force worked behind the dissonant words. Duvain's brow lowered further.

"So it appears. A very interesting power, you Rhandites possess."

"As dO YoU, Voidstrider."

The half-dozen Rhandites surrounding him kept their hoods lowered and their arms in their sleeves. A larger ring of soldiers stood outside them, with weapons of a much more mundane sort. Duvain's hands remained at his sides, not moving for the lightsaber that lay hidden beneath his heavy black coat.

"Give us your knowledge and we may be merciful."

"You presume much."

The scant air between Duvain and the Rhandite party grew tense, a cord growing taught and more strained with each passing, breathless second.

"A poor choice, fool. You cannot hope to best us all. Now... kneel before the power of the Sorcerers of Rhand," As the lead phantom spoke, a dark tendril of power curled from his hand, stretching toward Duvain's face. The Hybrid's stoney features finally curved into a sneer of disdain as a tendril of equal blackness erupted from his own fingers and moved languidly to wrap around its mirror-image. Duvain's features grew rigid as both parties struggled, before finally his opponent's power seemed to give way, bending inward.

"Slay him!" A note of frustration crept into the sorcerer's voice.

The power of the six adepts of Rhand came crashing down on Duvain. His chin lowered and his extended hand began moving backward, not of its own accord. The contest of unseen wills seemed moving toward its slow, but inevitable conclusion.

Duvain reached out a second hand, curled his fingers into a claw, and ripped it backward. A hooded acolyte screamed, flying headlong into the hangar's forcefield. He was instantly vaporized into a fine, pink mist. The death cost Duvain, bringing him to his knees as his diverted concentration left an opening in his mental defenses for the Sorcers to attack, but the outward display of violence elicited a second reaction.

The ring of troopers behind the sorcerers stepped forward, raising their weapons.

"NO, HE WEARS A -" the head phantom's scream was cut short as the soldiers fired their blasters as one.

A dozen blasterbolts hummed eagerly toward Duvain. The first to arrive stopped scant inches from his head, a crimson vibrancy coalescing around it. A blast of vivid red lightning erupted from an amulet around Duvain's neck, blasting the head phantom in the chest and leaving a scorching hole the size of a man's fist. The robed devoted fell back with a limp thud, barely audible amidst the incessant whine of blaster fire.

Duvain was struck again and again, bolts ripping through his tough leather jacket and slamming into a durasteel breastplate, leaving scorches and blackened pockmarks. One punched through his upper right arm, another left a shallow burn across his right thigh, a third left a graze along his temple. The nauseating smell of burnt flesh and hair began to rise, but Duvain, though peppered by bolts, found his feet.

He called his lightsaber from his belt with the Force, feeling an influx of power as the cold hilt smacked into his palm and infused him with a preternatural focus. The violet blade sprang to life with an eager snap hiss. The four remaining sorcerers of Rhand, momentarily stunned by the loss of two of their number in a timespan of mere heartbeats, offered paltry resistance. Duvain swung his blade in a two-handed blow with all the ugly formlessness of one untrained in the art of saber combat, carving the black robbed foe from skull to groin. He kicked one half of the slain sorcerer at the crowd of soldiers, whirling and offering a savage slash that took the knees out from under a second sorcerer.

A bolt of plasma struck him in the shoulder and sent him staggering backward, but he came forward again like an implacable force of nature, red eyes blazing with volcanic fire. He raised a hand and loosed a rippling wave of telekinetic energy that scattered the gathered troopers across the floor. In the moments it took them to pick themselves up he bore down on the remaining sorcerers.

The two still on their feet cast weaves of the Force, one endeavoring to wrap a spell of illusion about himself, while the other sought to conjure a net of the Darkside. Duvain moved with inhuman speed, stepping forward and delivering a sharp strike of his pommel to the face of the latter, knocking her unconscious. He turned seeking out the remaining foe.

"Flee. You cannot elude me forever," his deep, resonating voice thrummed with power.

Power rolled from him, seizing the minds of the soldiers getting to their feet and snapping them like frail branches in the deep of winter. Torturous nightmares assailed them, scenes from the depths of Chaos. They fell to their knees, curled themselves in balls on the floor, or ran about like mad. All the while faye screams, haunted whispers, and screams of the damned split the air.

As he felt the hostility around him fade, Duvain sagged, looking down at his wounds. Blood ran from him in rivers, spattering the ground with a steady stream of his ichor. He breathed heavily through his nose, glancing down at the sorcerer whose legs he had severed. He bent over him, removing the cowl to reveal a sallow face, bled white with pain, that glared defiantly up at him.

"Shh," Duvain whispered, cradling the back of the sorcerer's head with one hand. "Do you wish to be immortal?"

Pouches on his cheeks suddenly flared open, giving birth to twin proboscises that snaked their way up the human's nostrils. Power and images flooded Duvain as he drained the man's sea of memory.

And then a light freighter smashed through the shields and skidded across the hangar bay...

 

[Ayden Cater]

[member="Rave Merrill"]
On approach to the rear of the command ship

He had not fully understood what the call was that lured him away from Corellia, but Ayden knew well enough to respect the demands of the Force. If it was calling out to him, his presence was desired. Aboard an unmarked ship, Ayden rocketed off into the Unknown Regions for what he did not know. He spent the time traveling by meditating and examining his weapons. The Force had a will of its own, he believed. That meant that it wanted him out there; whether that was for his personal glory or grizzly demise he did not know. But if the Force called, he would answer.

As soon as the ship dropped out of hyperspace, Ayden's hands moved across the controls. A Taozin amulet jostled silently around his neck as he worked. "Roland, activate the cloaking device and take us in on approach pattern Esk-Seven." The outline of the ship, already difficult to make out against the blackness of space, blurred and vanished entirely while the AI began a series of random vector changes designed to get in close to the command ship. Though not broadcast specifically to him, Ayden received Rave's message all the same. Ah, the Sorcerers of Rhand then. That was going to make this tricky.

He knew scant little about the Sorcerers. One could only read so much in four hundred years, and the Sorcerers were not exactly known for their courtesy and manners. All he knew was that they were rumored to know the future. Some even went as far as to claim that they could control it; a notion that Ayden found absurd. If they could so easily control the future to their whims, they would have dominated the galaxy already. No... More than likely they were just another rabid Force sect that got people gossiping. Regardless of the validity of those tales, a Force User was a Force User. They would not be taken down so easily. The fact that the Fringe had been locked in a battle for more than a week was testimony enough to their grit.

Already there were other ships on approach to the hulking wreck. One of them was angling for the the main hanger. Perfect. "Match their vector and speed minus four seconds. On the chance the Rhandians can detect us, maybe we'll just look like a sensor ghost to 'em." Ayden left the AI in charge of piloting while he left the bridge and headed down for the ship's hanger. Not a soul was on the ship save his own. He preferred perfect anonymity when he traveled for trips like this. Once he was in the hanger, he headed over to armory and began plucking out a variety of gadgets. Besides his sealed armor and coat, Ayden picked up a pair of sonic grenades, an scomp link attachment, and a lightsaber. The blue crystalline sword was slung across his back as he turned and pulled his helmet down to seal the suit.

He pulled up a tactical display of the ship's bearing and made a snap decision. "Alright, break us off from the light freighter. No need to make a second mess in the hanger. Spin up towards the bridge and pause two decks away from it. I'll make my own entrance if need be." Viridian light hissed to life as he spun the lightsaber hilt in his hand before deactivating it. The hanger was obvious and Ayden did nothing obviously. "Dizz, take over piloting. Once Roland and I are on board, burn a course ten minutes out and hold position. Scan all ships that show up and keep a log. Anything major comes at us from the Fringe, let me know immediately. I don't care if you have to give away your position to do it. I've no intention of dying out here."

Roland loaded into a portable datacore that fixed itself to his other forearm before Ayden tapped in a command and began depressurizing the hanger. Things fluttered but nothing moved as it was all locked down. Once the hanger was void of any atmosphere, Ayden made his way to the bay door. "I found a hull breach fifty-seven meters away from the bridge. It should lead you directly to the bridge." Ayden grinned behind his helmet as he punched the button to open the bay door. "Thank you Dizz. Keep the engines running; we may have to get out of here real fast." And with that, he jumped out of the ship and floated towards the Rhand command ship.

 

[Fatty]

It had been some time since the Governor of Filth had done much of anything in recent weeks. With the heated war between the One Sith and the Republic making a muck of any profitable enterprise with making a relationship with the Democratic behemoth... made even more complicated with the fact that any route to the giant blue blob was effectively blocked by a much smaller blue blob that went by the name "Levantine Sanctum", followed by a pathetic white splotch of "Silver Jedi". The amount of profit the Corporate Kingpin was being quite effectively, shot through the foot. At least his profit margin in-system was in the black...

However, ever since his original gang days as the former Underboss to Darth Voracitos and his crew, Fatty always thought it was an effective measure of security to keep at least one force user on hand. Today that very Dark Jedi he had under his employment was about to pay off after all, as a massive surge through the force was sent to the galaxy. The dark Jedi wasn't very powerful, containing only the basic powers - Push, Pull, Crush (throats), lightning - and mediocre saber skills. Despite to his mediocre skills though he made up for it in ingenuity, using a variety of technologies to increase his edge - his saber alone was full of surprises, the crystal containing a crystal that made the blade all but invisible, two crossguard blades (and two blades being capable of doubling their length, and the third is actually a low-power blaster [blaster angle is horizontal as opposed to being at a 45 degree angle]). Due to the "invisible" blade, he has to wear thermal goggles to get a better sense of where his attacks were going, among other sense amplifying technologies in his helmet.

The full layout of this particular force user though is not immediately important, as this NPC will never get to the action unless Fatty sends him to the call of the Dark Side. After all, with the Governor's fascination and obsession with all items relating to and pertaining to his former Boss, what better opportunity to understand him more than the acquisition of artifacts of the force? Surely if even a few worthless holocrons are found, they could be used to barter for more important items that he would value more.

Such then is the purpose of why this lone Dark Sider orbited Solovarna with the other ships hoping to board a Rhandite ship and steal whatever valuables one can get their hands on. The Dark Sider (named Gnhe'Ric N'me, or "Ric" for the purpose of storytelling) was in a fairly unassuming and worthless ship, a basic freighter modified to hold a modest number of blaster cannons and extra shields. As Ric watched other ships converge upon the space station, he piloted his ship to do the same. He watched as the other freighter cautiously approached, and with the air of anonymity Ric observed the station in its reaction to the first freighter; assessing the risks as best as he could.

He could create a strategy of how to approach the ship better than the first guy, but really, what difference does it make trying to board a space station with guns bigger than half your ship spread over a kilometer of space or so? Strategy or no strategy, boarding the vessel was going to be all luck and every ounce of skill Ric had of survival. He wasn't any saint, but he wasn't about to go commit genocide, so his mastery of the Dark Side was actually spectacularly minimal, so if he got blasted out of the sky well...

...he'd be pretty dead alright.

Might as well add his tally to the Galactic NPC Random Death toll right now and save everyone the trouble, right?

We'll see.

As the evasive maneuvers of the first freighter began, Ric engaged in a similar tactic, boost forward shields and take evasive action, maybe take a few pot shots at the space station hoping to get lucky and blast some of those cannons out of commission... or more realistically weaken their shields even just fractionally. He thought about contacting the first freighter for a partnership in getting into the space station but thought better of it, they both had to make sure they didn't get shot out of the sky first (him more than Ric). He'd offer support when it looked like the other pilot wasn't about to be disintegrated into space dust....

 

[Aethan Tannan]

Location: Rhundite Command Ship; Main Hangar Bay
Objective: Leave Hangar Bay; Explore Ship

​

...the Light Freighter had come to a halt in the hangar bay. Onboard Aethan had been jolted forward in the pilots seat and sat, leaning over the console, motionless before his chest inflated, he took a long breath and his body jerked upright again. Momentarily at a loss he quickly surveyed his surroundings, able to see into the hangar via the viewport in the cockpit of the Light Freighter, then he would stand from his seat while shaking off the cobwebs. Out of sorts as he was after that crash landing of sorts Aethan almost missed the tingling in the back of his neck that seemed to indicate another force user was nearby however on this ship, a Command Ship for the Sorcerers of Rhund, that was almost a given. It was also almost a given that his presence had been noticed in some fashion...

...moving back into the main bay of the Light Freighter Aethan would make his way into the aft where an emergency exit was located, a hatch on the top of the ship, seeing as how his expedient landing hadn't facilitated the necessity to lower the docking ramp. No matter though seeing as how the emergency hatch would suffice nicely. It would take several moments for him to locate the hatch. Meanwhile outside of the Tachyon Light Freighter it would likely be readily apparent that ship had taken some damage on its approach, laser burns were easily seen and smoke rose from different areas of the vessel, even in its crippled state the firepower of this command ship was obviously deadly...

...the hatch near the top of the Light Freighter opened with a clunk, easily heard, and like a rocket shooting skywards Aethan would leap out of the hatch in a blur of motion that mingled both incredibly speed granted to him via a manipulation of the force as well as the increased height with which he leapt. As he went his lightsaber unclipped from his belt and he switched it on with a flick of the thumb causing the blade to ignite with a -vwooooosh- of emerald light that glimmered openly. Landing back down on the top of the downed Tachyon Light Freighter Aethan made a quick scan of the area expecting blaster bolts or some manner of opposition...

....only there was nothing, Aethan actually saw several incapacitated bodies that looked like Rhundites before he saw the other man, Duvain, and slowly began to turn to square himself with that man over the distance between him while remaining on top of his own ship. He had the high ground at the moment. Looking at him he had no quarrel though his lightsaber was held defensively..."No quarrel with you."...he said openly..."We can go our separate ways."...he was here looking for his own prize as it were so the two of them had no reason to fight. At least not yet...​

​

[member="Duvain"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

Location: Main Hangar
[member="Aethan Tannan"]

".͚̙͚̩̜͈͝ ̸̺T͔̜̞̦ͅh̗̹̳̘̮͟e̥s̹̠̣̟͖̦̗̕e̶̞̬͕̲͚͍̘ ̣̗̯̪R̹̰̗͢ḩ̝̳̤̣͓̰ͅa͈̺̟̟͇n̴̘͍̣͖̟͓͕d̘̠͉͕̣i̴͇t͇̤e͕s̖̤̥̤̼̲ͅ ̕c̠̩̙l̞ͅa̶̦̲̟̙̣͔̱i̯̗̺̜͚m̧ ̴̬k̤̠̯͕̀n̤̯̮͖̹̥͕o̥͚w̝͖̟͈͇̜͡l͚e͏d̕g͚̰̝̙̣͔̭e̶̩̙̞̦͉ o̩̬̼̺̘͢f̜͓͕̭ ͙̣̪̠͓͠t̫h̘̯͟e ̕f̤͈̙̬̜͓ù̼̲͉̥̬̼t͢u̧͈r̢̬̫̦̱e̬̜̩͕̙͞ͅ.̱̮͔̘̩̕ D͢o͈̜͝ ̹̺͙̠y҉̮o̧̩̬͇̭̣ṳ̵͈ t̠hi̬̲͓̱ͅn͈̼͔ḱ̻̣ ̩͙͕͉t͓h͚͉̩͙̥̪̣͡e̲̯̖̤̳y҉̬̦̲ ̛̯̱̘f̥̻̺͎̬̱o̭̞͜r̵̻̜̯̻̲̰e͇̣̹͇͍s̪̤̠a͚̩̤͢w͇̦ ͏͇̙̘̖̬̳̝t҉̱̝͙̪͉̤͙he̤͍͉i͓̟͍r͇̦̤ ̯͡o̻͈w̯̗̬̰̠̕n͍͇͕ ̱͎̙̺̜̟͠e̖̫͇̰̗͟x͕t̲i͏̟͕ͅͅn̰̥̕ͅc̤̪̼͘t̟̮̮ḭ̙̺͙̦o͙̞ͅn̢̯͎̪̠̤͍ͅ?̦͖̳͔̦͡ ͚

The Anzati-Arkanian hybrid looked back at his two meals, drained of their Seas. A wealth of newly acquired memories whirled about his mind, most interesting were those pertaining to the various traps awaiting any would-be raider. His red eyes swung back to the new arrival. Their encounter suffered from an eerie ambiance of screaming soldiers, their minds shattered by Force Horror.

W̗͒̐̄̋ͮi͕͍̾̈́͊s̡͕͉e͔̣͙͎̩ͥ̚." B̼͙͈̻͠u͟t̮͉̗͉͔͍͠ ̺̫n̬͈͕̩͟ot ͔̙̖͇͝f͙̠ͅa͔̩͎̟r̯͖̺ṣ̷ͅi̻̪͙̮͓̱̺g̷̦̫͖̠̜̺ͅh̹t̜͉̩̺̜͍ed

He deactivated the Soulsaber, its violet blade retreating into the dragon-head emitter, T̫̗e͡ͅl̪̦͓̲̫l̴ ̘͓̱̩̞̰̫m̬͇͎͝ḙ̗̗͔,̷͈̭͚̖ͅ ͏v̶̰̻͎͖̮e͎n̹̲t͉͘ư̦̳͙̲̱ŕ̞͈͇̳͉eṛ̼̩̙̜̟,͏͇̤ ͖̹̺͇͇͢a̠̙̥r̳̟̱e̡̪ ̟̖̭͓y̶̙o̖͕u̬ͅ ̪̳̹p͎̝r̠͠ę̲̖̯̝̼̦yͅ,̰̖̺̝̙ ̬͖o͞r̮̻̳̮̝͉̬ ̬̫̟͠a҉̜̤̘r̬̤̱̯͡e̴̳͖̗͈̳͎̞ ̷̜ỳ̳͕̜o͚̲͚̝̳̭u̱̳̫ ̢̯͖͉̻͓͕̲t͇͚̤̩̭̝h̗̼̘̫̖̰̥͘e̶̝̣̹̺͎̟͈ ̵̻̝̗h̥̞u҉̠̭̙͓̲̬ͅn̠t͈̳͎e̹̰͍̠̜r̘̥̙̫͍̜̬?̵̭͙̙

 

[Fatty]

Ric's evasive maneuvers seemed to be adequate enough as he observed the first freighter quite literally crash into the space station...

Ric did not wish to repeat such an instance but saw nary an opportunity to land alive and still have a ship. He had the ability to have ship auto-piloted away while he jumped off onto the space station, but that would mean he would have to rely on his droid to get his ship to him in time for a speedy escape if things should go immediately south.

There were two things he needed most right now: A way in, and a way out. Both required a ship, which required that going in or out required the ship to be operable. The only solution to that is to minimize the encounters his ship physically has with the space station. So then it was decided, he handed the controls to his droid and made his way to hatch. Unceremoniously (after decompression) he found himself looking at the space station from an upside down perspective... from beneath his ship. The droid was to make a U-turn with the belly facing out towards the space station, so as to give Ric the momentum to jump his way all the way to the hangar.

He cringed as the freighter took a few hits for the maneuver but was otherwise okay, and besides, he was completely vulnerable now, protected only by what his unremarkable armor provided. If a blaster bolt even so much as passed through this area he was dead. He was putting a lot of faith into the force right now to make sure he passed through those shields. Thankfully the force was not always cruel, and the reality of him being a nearly impossible target to hit began to sink in and comfort him. Clearly, if the Sorcerer's wanted to kill him, they should do it now, but he was not important enough to warrant their direct attention and foresight. Lucky for him being the underdog.

Unlike the first pilots noisy and dramatic entrance, by comparison Ric was a ghost. He passed through the shields at a fairly fast pace, and braced his fall with the force as he entered the space station... to find a meeting between the crashed pilot and some other person, whom he guessed from their presence in the force was the one responsible for the several bodies most likely stinking up the enclosed atmosphere. Then he began to speak in an Eldritch voice that irritated more than frightened him, his mind was molded upon such horror and was thus desensitized some what. He thought the whole Sith culture was mostly just a whole big lot of drama, and didn't care for such claims of power... mostly because he knew he was pretty much powerless to the will of the force.

He was just here to make a living.

Ric stood up and raised his hands as he said, "Not here for blood, I'm with that guy..." He looked towards Tannan, and shrugged hoping to indicate a proposal.

Hopefully that was enough to be left alone from unwanted violence relatively speaking...

[member="Aethan Tannan"], [member="Duvain"]

 

[Aethan Tannan]

Location: Rhundite Command Ship; Hangar Bay
Objective: Exit Hangar

​

...eerie ambiance is not something that Aethan traded in more than was necessary nor was the eldritch tone that seemed to accompany the mans voice, or the way he spoke, it left the man more than a little on hand. Regardless the lightsaber that Duvain was wielding deactivated and Aethan would deactivate his own in turn before his head swiveled to the side around the time he heard another voice. Aethan had missed the fact another individual had entered the hangar bay and until now his attention had caused him to be solely inclined to watching the man who was responsible for killing several Rhundites...

...he looked at Duvain and offered..."Neither."...this wasn't a game to him and he wasn't one to fall into a totally dramatic conversation concerning the role he might play in this event or any others. Needless to say he wasn't totally impressed but he was weary of the man standing there, his mannerisms centering him out as odd to say the least, but now they were a trio and not just a duo. Aethan was still standing on the top of his downed Light Freighter before he nodded in confirmation to what was said..."What he said."...he sure wasn't going to turn down a potential alliance what with freaky soul sucker in the room with him. Odds seemed a lot better if he teamed with the new arrival...

...backing up across the roof of his ship Aethan would move until he was able to hop down onto the hangar floor where he'd land with a certain deftness and then back track all the way to his new allies left. Glancing at Ric he'd have said..."That door."...indicating a set of blast doors that would lead out of the hangar, there were several, into the corridors of the Command Ship. Correct Aethan if he's wrong but it seemed better than a staring contest with their third leg as it were...​

​

[member="Fatty"] [member="Duvain"]

 

[Ayden Cater]

[member="Rave Merrill"]
Onboard the Rhandian Flagship

It was surprising how dark the corridors were. Some of it may have been attributable to minor fact of the ship being split in half, but that didn't fully explain it. As Ayden carefully walked down one corridor, he found that there were very few indicators of where light would have come through had the ship not been broken apart. The suit's visual feed compensated for the darkness and made it easy enough to move about. He carried the lightsaber but did not activate it for fear of attracting unwanted attention. He knew basically where the bridge would be, but not anything more specific than that. He needed to get there so Roland could access the ship's schematics and generate a map for him. Otherwise he wouldn't know where to go for anything.

As he turned one corner, he found himself face to face with a slack-jawed man. Probably a technician or some other lowly sort, the man just stared in utter shock at Ayden as if disbelieving. Unfortunately for him, Ayden could not afford any alarm being sounded and so he cut the man down with a quick, efficient strike. No pain, no suffering. A small part of him wanted to feel pity for the man. He had not deserved death, but had been dealt it anyways. However, Ayden knew he could not afford such distractions and continued on towards the bridge.

He could begin to hear the sounds of frantic chatter as he approached the bridge. Apparently the door controls were out. "Sector 815 reports-" "-didn't see the incoming missile so they-" "-too many variables!" It certainly sounded like they were all in a panic. Ayden slowly edged towards the door, keeping close to the wall and peered inside. More than a dozen sorcerers, obvious by their choice of attire, were scrambling around the bridge while probably twice that number, the same sort of technician rat that he had just killed, were busy doing... things. It seemed likely that they were carrying out the wills of their handlers, but he had no idea how they knew what to be doing without verbal cues. In fact, there was almost no interaction between the two groups.

It did not seem probable that battle meditation was in play. If that were the case, the Fringe would have had a significantly harder time in the fight. Whatever it was, the lack of cues made the interactions, or lack there of, exceptionally interesting. What was more interesting was the figure in the center of the bridge. Garbed in pure black, it was very obviously the leader and commander of the bridge. Even from his poor vantage point, Ayden had a ominous sense of the man. He was definitely not a pushover.

"No need to hide in the shadows, Lord Protector. Come, join us on the bridge."

All movement on the bridge ceased and Ayden felt every muscle in his body freeze. How did he- "Know you were there? I know a great many things." There was a smug sense of satisfaction in that voice that carried easily even through the sounds of battle. For a heartbeat, he contemplated running or going in lightsaber swinging, but Ayden decided to play it all by ear and simply stepped onto the bridge. All eyes were on him, save for the Rhandian commander. Each of them, he noticed, had that same look of utter shock and bewilderment that held with every step he took.

When he came to a stop at an angle to see the commander, he found himself looking at a featureless white mask. That wasn't disturbing at all... "Give me a moment..." That voice came through the suit's speakers like ice water, sending a very unpleasant shudder through the Corellian's veins. There was something about it, the commander, that made Ayden very much feel as though he was under constant observation, even in his mind.

One of the sorcerers, an apparently minor one as his garb seemed to lack certain decorations that others did, suddenly lashed out with a barrage of Force Lightning, shouting something that sounded vaguely like "MUST EXIST!" Reflexively Ayden brought the crystal sword around and channeled that lightning through it like a grounding rod. Several seconds passed with no one else making a move before the barrage fell away to leave only a panting sorcerer who looked, if possible, more shocked and disbelieving. He was spared whatever mind-blowing thoughts were going through his head when Ayden gave the sword a flourish and sent the barrage right back at the sorcerer in a destructive wave. The force of the blast was enough to throw the man across the room off his feet where he lay unmoving, smoking, in the heap that he landed in.

"I told the fool to give me a moment..." There was a cruel note of amusement in its voice as the figure reached into one sleeve. Ayden immediately turned to swing the sword and sent what was left of the stored lightning at the figure, but suddenly found his limbs frozen in place. "Now now, Lord Protector. There's no need for that. I simply wanted to give you what you wanted." The figure chuckled darkly before revealing a small datachip from its sleeve. "On this chip are the schematics for the ship. You'll already find your destination highlighted and a route preplanned. Don't worry, there are no traps laying in wait for you."

Ayden suddenly felt his limbs' movement restored and he hesitated for a moment. This was all utterly bizarre. After a quick look around the bridge, he put the sword away and gingerly took the chip. "Now run along. There are others who will be up here shortly and I want the bridge to look presentable for their deaths." Again there was that note of cruelty and amusement that made his bones tremble. This whole ordeal was like nothing he was prepared for. He looked between the man and the chip for several moments before inserting it into the suit for analysis. Sure enough a map came up highlighting a section of the ship and labeling it as the holocron repository. It even gave him the most direct route there, bypassing several hazards created by the battle.

"Why am I doing this for you?" The sorcerer leader's capacity for knowing what Ayden was going to say or do before he did it was unnerving, but he went ahead and nodded in the affirmative. "Because I'm not the one that's going to kill you." Ayden stared blankly at the featureless mask, hating now more than ever the other man's choice of attire. "Killing you here and now would disrupt my plans, and I have other matters to attend to. So run along to your death, Lord Protector. I'm sure it will be a good one." That laughter followed Ayden all the way to the lift and beyond.

 

[Sal Katarn]

Location: Moving out of the Main Hangar
[member="Aethan Tannan"]
[member="Fatty"]


Ȋ̤͔͓͕̲͈̈̒̚n̐ͬt̴͖͓̳̫̣̱ͬ̉ͭͨ̄ͪ̚r̜̼̖̖͇̮̼̊̔̌͌̇͐ͯ́i̟ͤͥ̔͂̒ͯ̾ͅg̾ͧ͏ű̵̪̙i̜̰ͪͪ͊ͥ͛ͧ̆n̕ġ̡̞̰͔͙̫ͣ̃ͮ


The Hybrid followed the duo along without further comment, features in a state of permanent apathetic derision. Blood still stained the deck beneath his feet, but he betrayed no hint of the physical pain he felt from the plethora of wounds; there were means of fortifying one's self against the trials of the flesh.

He wondered how they planned to get through the set of blast doors, much less the trip-laser trap just beyond. Oh yes, the memories of the now deceased Rhandites told him a great many things. Once he had time to sort through the entire jumbled pile of their mortal coils they would perhaps prove useful. But notifying the pair of mortals before him about the awaiting trap seemed.... unnecessary. Natural selection would sort them out.

 

[Krytu]

The ship continued spiraling. Faster and faster. Summoning as much focus as he good, he timed his speed and with one final breath, he ejected from the ship and shot toward the opening he was aiming for in the bow. Automatically, the mechanical eyes set within his head calculated speed and determined impact force. Most likely he would make it without seriously injuring himself. Most likely.​

​

The opening loomed closer and closer...then impact. The Kokku shot and hit the wall of a corridor bending his knees to absorb impact and then shooting off to redirect momentum. As he hit the floor of the hallway he twisted his ankle and almost let his breath out in pain but managed to keep it in. Despite the pain that emanated from his ankle he had to move quick. Running down the corridor past floating objects trapped in vacuum, his bouncing movements got him to what appeared to be a makeshift airlock. He jammed the button, slipped inside, and pressed the button to re-pressurize.​

​

"Well," his gravely voice, "that could have gone worse." And in reality, it didn't go that good at all. Now he had to find another ride out of here when the time came. And when he finally stood, his leg probably wouldn't hold well. So he had to wait. Drawing the medium length blade, he set it lightly across his lap and began to wait for the pain to subside.​

 

[Fatty]

Location: Main Hangar
Objective: Exit Hangar

"Sweet..." Ric exclaimed as the new found alliance was summarily confirmed. He jogged through the empty hangar doing his very best to avoid any kind of acknowledgement that the third man was there. He didn't seem to have a peaked interest in any sort of cooperative effort, so perhaps it was best merely to leave him alone. Gave him the creeps the way he just stared at them.

"I'm not real good with this kinda stuff but I'll give it a whirl. Worst comes to worst we got our sabers." He said as he got to the control panel. He pulled out a screwdriver lookin' sorta thing that probably came from an Astromech Droid, with wires connecting it to his gauntlet. It was makeshift and more times than not required a little assistance from the force and a good beating, but he's had some good success with it. In all honesty the thing was a wiry hunk of junk that only marginally made his job easier. At least it gave him the feeling that he knew what he was doing, which in most cases was at least 70% of the battle.

Ric jammed the thing it and started twisting it in the manner a droid would, hopefully communicating harmonious and pleasant messages to whatever was closing this door to him, wooing it to open. What was more likely happening was a half understandable garbage that probably only vaguely asked permission to eat cake... which from the door's perspective didn't make much sense. It could only give yes or no answers and nutrition wasn't in its programming, so this was quite a dilemma for the door. Obviously several no's were given, but with enough time the all important yes would probably be reached, so long as the answer was in response to cake...

"Give me a sec here, it takes some fiddling with..." A minute later and the screwdriver and the door reached a compromise: "-ke?... No. Cake? ... No. Cake? ... No. Cake? N-... Yes. Cake!"

Miraculously the blast doors opened... half way.

"Well that's something at least, help me cut through this bottom bit." The blast doors the reinforced the original door were half way opened, the that door they were covering remained closed. It was fairly thin so cutting an opening wouldn't be too difficult. Ric unhooked his saber from his belt, stuck the emitter to the door and activated the plasma beam to slice through the door, and began to make a rectangular shape.

[member="Aethan Tannan"], [member="Duvain"]

 

[Arage Bao]

UNKNOWN REGIONS
ELMDA SYSTEM
ORBITING SOLOVARNAhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/22098-solovarna/

@Approaching the command ship

In a world without gold, we might have been heroes. I once heard someone say that to me, but the truth in it had eluded me for a long time, it hadn’t made sense to me and only know I realize why. It was the innate greed that drives me to commit vile acts, to expand and extend my reach on the Galaxy, it was greed that made me reach higher and higher until there was no more to take, it was greed that makes me tighten my grip on my own life, refusing to let go and finally allow myself to die the last death. So I ain’t a hero, because the metaphorical manifestation of gold will always sit in front of me and lure me to the newest score, the newest hit and the brightest star to dim.

Most of the Fringe was tied up with the Rhandites, the battles had been fierce and no end seemed to be coming, and yet I wasn’t there - I didn’t commit myself to the weeklong battle where the lifeblood of the Fringe was spilled for dominance over the outer reaches of the Galaxy. I was here sitting in my stealth shuttle, at the edge of the system where the Rhand command ship had been turned into a turtle upside down, one with teeth though, even from here I could sense the sheer power in the Dark Side, magnified by the will of hundreds to destroy whatever laid on their path.

And we were sending children to try and secure the ship. The word didn’t fit of course, besides the Dark side I could also sense known players, converging onto the derelict, perhaps trying to find something of worth, find knowledge of power to aid the rescue of a… loved one, or perhaps they too were secretly fueled by greed, who would know in a Galaxy such as ours?

Why was I here? I have already answered the question, and yet I tried to deny it. Rationalizing my act to come here, instead of facing the Rhandites with my brothers, at least until I came upon another realization. I hadn’t been there for the Fringe for a long time now, sure I came when called, fought when asked and assumed control when needed.

But my heart hadn’t been in it for a long time, my assets were protected and my interests were being followed, what else was there to do? Varanin’s return to the Fringe, in a more pro-active role, brought fire back into the proverbial spirit though, it made me reconsider things and yet… here I was. Officially, I took it upon myself to board the ship on my own, see if the men and women that were now waltzing into the derelict had the best interests of the Fringe at heart and salvage the archives, and perhaps… leave with a few of the holocrons that had been on the ship.

Greed.

I ignored my own conscience’s gagging at the injustice of things and set the computer to calculate trajectories, the ship’s cloak capacity wasn’t here for the Rhandite, they already knew I was here, had already seen the many paths that weren’t as set in stone as some wanted to believe, and they had picked the best ways to neutralize me the moment I set foot in this system. So how was I expecting to win this?

Merrill’s mercenaries, that’s how.

The power of clairvoyance, precognition to be more specific, had many strengths. You knew who, when, how, where, with whom - you knew everything there was to know about a particular situation, and yet through it there was an innate weakness. The fact that we were still mortal, neither omniscient, nor omnipotent, and through it came the limitations of what it meant to be a mortal being.

Too many paths, too many possibilities and things could slip, things could be overlooked and with that surprises could be calculated into the equation. I was counting on that, on that and my ability to immerse myself and my ship into the folds of the Current and hid away from their Darksight, at least until the time came that I was ready to face them in earnest.

Still some distance to the ship, he could sense the flashes of fighting, lasers shooting at approaching fighters, a freighter crashing into the hangar bay, a man of known quantity dashing through space, trying to reach the command ship.

This was going to be… interesting to say the least

I had my two lightsabers (not that I was really using them all that much these days, but you never knew when they could come in handy.), a terentatek body glove and a few other things that might come as a surprise to the Sorcerers of Rhand. For a moment I contemplated reaching out to Cater, perhaps some teamwork would aid both our missions without any needless killing, death and destruction, but I would have to break my concentration to do that, leave the safe folds of the Current and make myself visible to all.

I wasn’t ready for that yet, [member="Ayden Cater"] and me might meet each other today, but the time hadn’t come just yet.

A distinct feminine voice subtly rang out through the cockpit.

“Approaching target, boarding procedures will commence in two minutes.”

Oh yeah, I ain’t flying myself, are you kidding me? The last few times I was holding the steering wheel the fighter I was piloting crashed in gruesome ways, this mission was critical - I didn’t have the time to die, resurrect myself and try to return. Everything would probably have been picked clean by then, that said… I really had to start brushing up my piloting skills, because this was just ridiculous. The last thing I wanted was to end up as Sol or worse, Janus, now that would be an agonizing fate.

“Thirty seconds.”

Right, time for action. I raised myself from the seat and climbed out of the pit, while the droid was trying to steer us towards the ship and board it, I’d wait in the backroom, trust me. It’s better that way, nothing ever good came from trying to involve myself in the piloting of a ship.

 

[Dissero]

UNKNOWN REGIONS
ELMDA SYSTEM
ORBITING SOLOVARNAhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/22098-solovarna/

Approaching the command ship
[member="Jared Ovmar"]

Curiosity. Intrigue. Desire.

Greed.

Everyone had their reasons for heeding the call. Everyone had their reasons for testing themselves against a perceived threat. The drive to do, see, learn, take - all things that many pondered as they drew upon one lowly fate or another. The promise of great reward for greater sacrifice, only a select few were willing to endure.

That was how this galaxy worked, and Dissero knew this all too well.

The Archivist sat in quiet reflection at the back of Ovmar's ship, content to encounter his memories alone for a time. Unlike others, he didn't wonder why he was here. He knew his reasons to be the same as they were for any such journey, only today one reason topped them all: [member="Ashin Varanin"] sent him. Sure, he was useful in the battlefield. He'd logged plenty of hours on the savage fronts covered in his enemy's blood to earn some honorable mentions. But she knew that wasn't where his heart lay. The true skills of the man weren't found heedlessly slaying abominations for the endgame of another - they were in the adventure of discovery, the unlocking of old mysteries.

The taking of things--powerful, dark, deadly things--that were not his.

All she wanted was the information contained within the archives, the rest was his to claim, and maybe he owed her that much. Maybe not. Maybe more.

[member="Verie Lacroix"] was at home - his home, now their home. A permanent and wonderful new addition to his life. He'd share everything with her if he didn't think it would cost him everything. She knew much, enough even, but not everything. Never everything, and it was safer and better that way.

The man smiled faintly, recalling the note he'd left for her after slipping away in the early twilight hours.

Ve -

I can't take you this time, not yet. I've left you several minor holocrons and datacrons to read and meditate on. Keep practicing and I'll return shortly with something new to share.

Yours,
M

He could still smell her perfume, taste her skin on his lips hours later.

Let's go back to sacrifice.

Jared walked into the chamber, looking collected with an undertone of his infallible smugness.

On second thought, we'll save the dramatics for later, thirty seconds isn't enough time.

With a nod, Dissero stood to join the man, considerably less weighted with armor than he. Armor wasn't his thing, never had been, he had his instincts for that and they'd never let him down yet. The Heart of Korriban sat securely in its sheath, his own lightsaber inherited from his true father clipped to his side beneath his traveling garb. A few notable force trinkets here or there on his body would be of use, particularly one made by Alchemist Valik.

"Third date," the man said, brows lifting, "I better get a goodnight kiss this time."

 

[Reine Bisset]

A lone scout craft approached the broken and battered ship as it floated through the void. The scout was far from home and definitely not where it should be, but here it was all the same. It was a ship of civilian make and model, certainly not designed to be anywhere near a warzone, but here it was despite all things. The reasons why it was here, staring down the face of immenent death and remaining stolid in the presence of constant danger were simple.

The pilot had no choice.

He sat in his command chair working the controls as a nervous sweat broke over his forehead and ran down his face. His hands worked the controls with the experience of a lifetime pilot and his air of professionalism pervaded the cockpit, though it was muted somewhat by the stench of fearful perspiration. His face was stoic despite all this, something that the figure sitting behind him in the secondary chair found moderately amusing. Despite his fear and panic, the pilot knew his job well enough to perform his tasks quickly and properly.

Reine had selected her prisoner perfectly.

"Take us to the bow section," the Miraluka stated flatly, her tone sounding both bored and imperious, despite the cramped confines of the cabin.

"I can take us to the hangar, but to go further is too risky. I'm picking up point defense weapon signatures all over the place," the prisoner-pilot responded nervously.

"Think of it as... practice, then. A pass-fail scenario," Reine stated as she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, her lightsaber neatly placed on her lap with the emitter pointed at the pilot's seat-back. When she spoke again, the flat tone was replaced with pure steel and a sound reminiscent of distant thunder. "And I suggest you pass. Failure is not an option..."

 

[Krytu]

Location: Unknown; bow of the flagship
Objective: Training room

After resting long enough to make his leg usable, Krytu rose off the ground. After testing out his foot quickly, he moved toward the door that separated him from the rest of the ship. In his right hand he held the blade at the ready for any enemies and in his left hand he held one of his splinter knives. The button on the wall opened the door to the rest of the ship.​

​

Walking through a dark corridor, with the occasional flashing light, Krytu moved swiftly. He wanted to raid the training room and get out. The corridor lead him to more and more undamaged areas. Rounding a corner he noticed a crouched form on the ground. A maintenance worker performing work on some broken piece of equipment. A quick flick of his wrist and on of the barbed and poisoned knives shot toward the worked. It impaled himself in the back and forced the man forward.​

​

After retrieving the blade from the dead figures back, he continued on, the man still gurgling as the poison continued taking the man deeper and deeper. Closer to death. The corridor ended in a right turn. Upon turning down this hallway, he saw not just a maintenance worker, but a soldier. The blaster at his belt was immediately in his hand. It was a long distance to throw a knife. He would most likely miss. Nonetheless, one blade after the other flew down the hall. Three of them missed and the enemy fired. Rolling out of the way, he dodged the blaster fire. The shots rained on him as he dodged and kept moving forward.​

​

A blaster bolt nailed him in his left shoulder and pain shot down his arm and back. But he had managed to get close enough. A fourth blade shot out of nowhere and struck the soldier in the neck. A swift death as his breathing was cut off.​

​

That blaster wound would need some patching... After a few minutes of ensuring that the wound would not lead to anything serious, he continued on even quicker. He needed to not take any more hits like this, get the goodies, and get the heck out. In theory this seemed like a simple goal. But he wasn't good at deflecting bolts with the blade he held.​