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Mon Calamari/Dac


Nikolai Kolchak

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Sara’s eyebrow quirked at the offered re-breather. The cake of sewage on its surface was counter-intuitive considering the device's intended use. But the Zeltron’s re-breather was likely up a few levels where the droid had left it. Welp… it's better than nothing. 

 

Sludge spilled across the skin of her cheeks leaving clammy goose-flesh in its wake. The slime pooled at a spot right under her chin before dropping to the floor in messy slops. She could hear the rush of impulses charging through her brain to commandeer her gag reflex. She could feel the surge of chemicals racing up her throat. But she consciously tightened her grip, violently clenched every muscle in her neck, held her breath, shook the re-breather out, then replaced it. It wasn’t much easier but each breath got better as she became accustomed to the acrid bouquet that greeted her with every inhalation.  

 

The gas became heavier and heavier as they descended. Darkness was similarly oppressive as it shrouded around them. And though her heightened senses gifted her some advantages, there wasn’t much more to be gained from the limited visibility. In its usual fashion, the droid continued to drone about everyone’s lack of competence like it was its job. Sara began to question the droid’s capability with combat and started to assume its purpose was to make everyone else feel inferior. And if that was the case, it was terrible. Sara felt even more competent with every bleat from the tin-can's mouth. Everyone else was silent, save for Leena. But Sara was used to the guppy’s motor mouth by now and didn’t mind the background noise. A haunting chant pierced audibly through the din but Sara couldn’t decipher it so it was just another addition to the cornucopia of aural chaos that embraced her.

 

When the group approached a narrow bridge and the droid prefaced its passage with a shot at Sara’s intelligence, she followed its retreat with a one-fingered salute and didn’t care whether it saw or not. But before Sara followed the group across the chasm, she heard a disturbing sound; no, not one sound, many sounds. It was hard to make out over the weird chant, but after the others made it across, she could pick the sounds out of the dark. The clacking of plastoid and metal plates hitting each other, and the plopping of boots as they plowed through thick sewage water, echoed through the cavern behind them. Sara’s initial thought was the Mon Calamari authorities, but it could’ve been anyone or anything. More importantly, however, why were those sounds down in the caves and coming this way with speed? 

 

Her face tightened under her mask. She flexed her leg muscles and slid across the sliver of land that stood between them, coming to a comfortable stop right behind Leena and her cocky smile. She felt the guppy's arm link through hers and pushed forward faster, hoping to accelerate the group’s march through the lower levels. When they were a safe distance away from the treacherous gap, Sara leaned toward Leena with a hint of worry etched into her face.  

 

“Leena, we have company.” Sara eyed the passage behind them and softly yanked the Mon Cal’s arm deeper into the mines.

Edited by Scorpion

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KILOMONGERONE

 

 

The Dark Lord lifts his razor-hilt to his lips. He closes his eyes and kisses the sacred metal. Then his eyes open, and the spirit behind them surrenders any inkling of humanity, empty above the slit of his half-mask. When Exodus moves, they begin to die. He skims diagonally across the front rank of the Mon Calamari Forces with such possession of his body that it would seem he was another species entirely, one made of wind and wrath. Quarren blocked his path holding what appeared to be fishing spears, yet knowing them to be far deadlier than what image implied. He sidesteps two of their thrusts and removes the heads of three militiamen, exchanges two parries with a heavy-set mercenary woman, before pulling a second shorter blade from his belt and skewering her stomach, ripping sideways through half her rib-cage. Bodies hit stone with a miserable thump while she stood there helplessly trying to stuff intestines back into her abdomen. She collapses to her knees, gobbling screams from her mouth. The iconic lightsaber spun in his hand several times, deflecting sporadic laser-fire that aimed to bring him down, before heaving the dripping heat of the blade through the mouth responsible for the incessant wailing. The sound of her was unnerving, it distracted him from the dark voice that seemed to bellow through the force nearby.

 

Exodus moved towards it. He continued in demoniac hyper-combat, demonstrating a brutal fluidity across the increasing number of resistances. They were dropping like weeds to a steady mowing. Imperial Legionnaires did their best to keep pace with blade and dance, while team Sentinel and the Dark Troopers entrenched themselves into chokepoints littered across the rural divide. They maintained precision cover-fire to match the march of death, flooding battlefield Intel to and from the SCI. It was easy for the units here to leech supreme confidence when in the presence of their King, even if he said nothing, the language he showed them was battle. It was a surreal invigoration whenever they were in his presence, multiplying their efficiencies across the board with a dangerous hunger. The boon was passive, none of them understanding the power with which they drew on, and how effectively it encompassed their armies when he was with them. This was reflected in the urgency of communications that spread throughout the armies, a flux of vital intelligence that was now mitigated with helpings of static for those below.

 

 

"Break, break, break! Kilo Monger One. Emergency message for Kilo Monger One. Do you copy? Over."

"..Go ahead."

"Darkhand has uncovered tertiary objective. Anomalies are especially evident, exacting coordinates now, over."

"Copy, already inbound. Over and out."

 

 

He separated himself from the battle quickly, dexterously clean even as conqueror in the theater of war.  He eased into the darkness now, swimming through narrow streets toward the beacon of black that ignorantly reached out through the force. The hunt was the pride and joy of the Anzati people. His boots were coupled with the swiftness of air, while he mind cinched the harrowing voice from the deep, trying to decipher it's meaning. He was near. Surface level would only surrender so much lee-way on his trailing of the tertiary objective, but once he completed his rendezvous with the entry point, he would disappear beneath a checkpoint maintenance drain-cover. It was quieter here, and as the King descended, his fingers curiously ran along the concrete underpass. The waters were soil, ordure and wild excrement. Hunting beneath Maggot's Cantina on Anzat, far below the uninviting slums, was doubly worse than this. Yet, the assassin reached outwards, feeling the loneliness of the cement infrastructure and allowing the echoes of the force to track his foothpath. A binding force sheathed the hide of his gloves and boots; a touch of the Kiin'Dray now carrying his weight above the wastewater. His limbs spread wide, gripping the ungraspable, and then not another sound from him could be heard, vanishing as if he was never there.

 

 

"BEWARE OF THE SHADOW THAT ESCAPES FROM THE BODY LIKE AN ANIMAL STARVED."

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Pressing forward into the darkness, following the singular beam of light emitting from Xar’s head, the group had to slow because of the uneven, slick terrain. Deeper and deeper and deeper they went. Leena would have fallen several times had it not been for the flow of the force and Sara’s hooked arm.

 

When her friend noted the faint sounds echoing behind them, she responded, an echo of her former cheer shining through; “Perhaps it is more wanderers like ourselves. That or some terrible slop-monster hungry for a good meal. Either way . . .” she spoke louder hoping to catch everyone’s attention, “Hey everyone! My friend here says we are about to have company. How about we don’t shoot them until we make sure they can’t help us get out of here. I don’t think it is whatever is down below chanting.” ‘Maybe it drown and thats what stopped the voice.’

 

________________
 

Deeper in the mine, just down beyond the light of Xar’s light, around a bend in a cratered end to the tunnel, lay an inky black maw that opened from the left through a jagged opening torn open by the lethane powered explosion that had ravaged the tunnel. Bodies of twisted, burnt, decaying and mangled miners lined the floor there. Once inside, all one could hear was a wet hissing  breath... waiting.

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"May the Force be with you Master"

 

Her words were cheerful, but fell upon worried ears. Despite the smile he presented, deep in his psyche, Mjan had begun to wonder why he felt the Force slowly wandering away from him. Even as he attempted to stretch out his mind, search for dangers ahead and behind, above and below, he felt nothing. Not even the push and pull of the ever flowing stream that was life in the Force. So instead he stayed quiet, lingering in the back, even as the chasm presented its self. 

 

Mjan chuckled briefly as Leena presented herself in an attempt to humble the egotistical droid at the head of them. And even Sara's explicit finger waving only added to the fact that he was disliked. But for Mjan, he simply followed the group, unsure of what good he could be without the Force's touch. When it came his turn to cross, Mjan stepped forward, using his stave to stabilize his footing with each step until he, and the others, were fully across.

 

Hearing Leena, Mjan replied. "We've no choice but to keep going forward." Mjan slammed his stave into a crevasse near their junction, and with a twist, the bridge broke apart and fell deep into the ravine. "Better to face what's in front of us than what could lay behind us."

 

The gaze Mjan gave wasn't one of hostility nor was it one of knowledge. With the death of Rose and possibly Nia, whatever took them could be what she heard and he didn't want to face what could very well bring about his fall to the darkness within. With that, Mjan pointed to Xar. "You want to lead, lead."

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Xar looked back immediately when the mon cal said there was company coming. This was not something he liked. It was possibly an excavation or exploration team from the city, trying to find any survivors from the destruction above, especially after that explosion. But to come this far was suicide unless they knew the group was down here. And if they knew the group was down here and pursuing them this far…

 

“The authorities” Xar buzzed. He thought and thought. The cave system here was a bit stronger. A cave in here wasn’t as likely. But earlier, before that bridge, Xar had noted that the tunnels were close to collapsing. A well placed explosive would surely render everyone dead. 

 

The other red skinned being, who had just destroyed the bridge, motioned to Xar to keep going. He nodded in response. 

 

“Don’t tell us what to do. You, Zeltron…” Xar pointed a claw. 

 

“Have any more of those cryro bombs? Then get behind the group. If that ‘company’ somehow crosses that space and catches up, be ready to dispose of them. We will try to warn them off...”

 

With that, Xar turned and made his way forward. As he did, he raised a claw to his head, tapping the side softly, turning on his transmitter. True, it was made for his chassis to control and stay in contact with drones, but thankfully with some tuning, it could broadcast and receive radio frequencies, like he had done earlier to contact Co’bo and Krexel. Down this far, he couldn’t contact his fellow Black Sun Agents.  But he could talk to those people far behind him.

 

“Attention life forms following us…” Xar spoke out loud, as he made his way deeper. “We demand your identification your reasoning to be this deep.…”  

 

Xar came to an opened area. He stood a bit off to the side to let the others pass. He kept his light forward to let the others search the area while he stayed still to continue communicating with those following them. He decided that perhaps some gentle warnings about the collapsed bridge would work in turning these people back. 

 

“The cave system is dangerously unstable. We heard some rocks fall earlier that may have rendered a passage unaccessable. We suggest you turn back.”  

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“Be careful, if these are the jedi, they will be quick and ruthless.” Except the kids perhaps, those were only following their programming. 

 

Aren’t you following programming Ca’Aran?

 

He dismissed the voice with a wave of his hand that caused the second lieutenant walking behind him to pause her steps momentarily, thinking that he was trying to motion her to slow down her pace. But seeing him not try to follow it up with more orders, she caught up to him, the IR light from her rifles glowrod making harsh shadows from the uneven cave system. The voice only taunted him once more, a peel of laughter that caused a shiver to trace down his spine. 

 

The dreamlike quality of the tittering laughter echoing in the back of his mind told the Clone Commando very little other than the force was moving heavily through the cave system He had nearly become adept at ignoring his conscience through the years, and ignoring the persistent spirit of a long dead lover was not much different. But it just solidified his hatred of those that used the force. What made them so special. But the answer was there anyway, some were born lucky and some were mass produced on a shitty waterworld in test tubes. 

 

There was a click from the helmet comm and the soft voice of Blacktorin came whispering in his ears. 

 

“I am hearing voices commander, not spirits, there are beings up ahead.”

 

He raised his hand, halting the company in their tracks, but before he responded a metallic, grating voice boomed out from the guard frequency and with a touch of his finger to his wrist, the metallic voice was piped into his helmet. Definitely not Mon Calamari. He switched back off guard and nodded to Blacktorin, who took a long heavy barreled pistol from a holster and leveled it into the great expanse ahead of them. She pulled the trigger and a flare shot up into the cave to burst into a red static light that slowly floated down towards the ruins of a bridge, its attachments still groaning and falling. So the Jedi were more resourceful then some. And they were right on their heels. 

 

Delta triggered his external comm and the speakers that were buried in the facemask. Projecting his voice across the expanse and into whatever tunnel they had escaped into. 

 

“You have contacted the Expeditionary force of his Imperial Majesty, the high emperor of the Sith. Surrender the Jedi among you or you will all perish in fire and blood.” 

 

Let them think on that. 

 

He returned to the internal comm frequency of his unit. 

 

“Ascension attachments.” 

 

Almost as one, dozens of liquid cable launchers fired. 

 

The Sith would not be so easily foiled.

 

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Ca'Aran

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Still as stone, Nok listened to the Sith commando's declaration, and then his ultimatum. Seconds passed, with his brow furrowed and his gaze fixed on empty space. Then, his shoulders relaxed, a decision made. His soft voice stayed calm and even as he spoke.

 

"We can't be taken prisoner. They'll kill the Jedi, and maybe the rest of us as collaborators. Or worse, they could take us prisoner. We have to pick up the pace. We might find a split in the path or a place we can barricade to stall them. Anyone who feels like a noble sacrifice, now would be the time."

 

Nok didn't wait, or pretend to make any show of being blind. Purpose infused each long stride as he made his way to the front of group and kept going, hesitation absent.

 

As he passed Xar, he spoke in the same even voice. "Whatever happens, don't shoot the soldiers."

 

"Or do, but then you're fired."

Edited by Nok Morliss
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Leena listened intently to her comrades, rolling her eyes at the Neimodian’s sudden display of would-be-wanna-be-leadership, “I don’t see why you couldn’t just bribe them,” she muttered as she fell in line with the rest of the group. Whatever was behind them, the group had ordained was probably not the best thing; the resonating voice of the unseen commando confirming that. “The Sith will do as the Sith will do. There is no sense trying to delve their twisted minds.” 
 

The Mon Cal grasped her lightsaber hilt. She hoped she would not need it, but as a Jedi and a healer, she had a duty to preserve the lives of those under her watch. She felt a wave of the force, a surge in the invisible light side of the force as it lapped against the aura of her own. She did not know who or what it was; looking over her shoulder into the darkness though, she knew there was something else. Something of the light, unlike the darkness that pressed in on all sides.

 

Falling in step with Sara as they pressed forward, Leena carefully slipped the second lightsaber hilt of her former master free from her belt. The green glow of the blade familiar in her mind as she hesitated for a moment, wrestling with the surge of memories it carried with it. She held it lovingly for a moment longer before gently pressing the hilt into Sara’s palm in unison with their strides. Whispering so the others couldn’t hear, she urged her friend, “Watch the neimodian. He is with them,” she jerked her head back in the direction of their pursuers. “Use this, only if you must. The force will be with you, but a saber is still dangerous. I need to check on the light.” Whoever or whatever had projected that wave of peace could be with the Sith, could be their prisoner, and Leena knew she needed to find him or her.  She’d be able to help her friends if she could do something, maybe find some help, before the darkness overcame them. She had to trust that Mjan and Sara could help the others.

 

Falling back from the group, Leena allowed herself to be enveloped by the dark inky blackness. With only the force to guide her, Leena clasped onto the light side of the force and allowed the tides to carry her back.

 

Pushing her way back until she could hear the crunch of boots on loose stone, Leena found a deep crevice and wedged herself in as deep as she could, barely deigning to breathe as the troops passed her by, and still, she felt the light of another, calling.

 

______________
 

The group pressed forward, the damp moist shaft turning at a sharp angle before progressing several yards and coming to a sudden halt. The entirety of the walls and ceiling were coated in black ash. Ashen covered, rotting and burnt corpses lay splayed against the walls; the victims of a fiery explosion that burnt their flesh before being overcome by the humid cold air and mold.

 

There at the end of the shaft, the jagged edges of a caved in shaft opened downwards; water dribbled over the edge in innumerable tiny streams, splashing against unseen age-worn-smooth stone floors below. From the jagged maw of the collapse through a thick layer of cortosis a cold wet raspy breathing echoed forth and a dim green glow emanated from within highlighting in a ghoulish glow the edges of a desecrated ancient lab of sorts. Crushed shelves and unidentifiable artifacts lay scatted about the ground in pieces. Amongst these were several shattered holocrons. Overturned tables, soaked parchments, beakers and containers covered in dried and evaporated liquids could be seen here and there. An appearance of chaos covered in a wet layer of dust and grime presided over the entire lengthy room. The green glow casting lengthy shadows all about, except for the furthest end where still water met the rocky shore stretching out into darkness. 
 

And there, in the darkness that hovered over the water, even the force was clouded by the thick foggy blackness.

Edited by Leena Kil

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Damn you Leena…

 

As the only anchor tethering her to this mission wriggled her way into the inky black, Sara's stomach twisted. The fingers of her right hand tightened so hard that her knuckles were pink against the cold steel cylinder that Leena pressed into them. She swallowed softly, unable to rid herself of the growing lump in her throat, and fought the burning that rose to the edge of her eyes. The hair of her mo-hawk was wet and slick with refuse, pasted to the skin of her head and face with curdled slime. But the murky tableau might as well have been miles away. Smells, sounds, tastes; all of them were silent. Everything was so blindingly present that nothing was. The only thing left was Sara’s persistent internal monologue critiquing her every move, like an entitled Hutt lord with too much to drink; sitting impervious on his dais while everyone groveled at the fringe of his blubber for the sustenance that even a single hand out would give. She wasn’t bitter at all.

 

She let the droid’s suggestion go unanswered, but thought to the cold steel orb resting in her soiled pouch. 

 

The sound of voices disturbed her dissociation. Armored feet clamored onto the cavern’s rocky surface and echoed as they marched in step behind the ragtag group. The stocks of carbines and rifles popped against hardened cuirasses and beat a staccato rhythm of doom that charged forward to greet them. A sickly green glow outlined an ominous feeling of dread that loomed before them. 

 

Each impending hazard was the facet of a terribly soft gem that began to chip away. The gem’s luster had already been compromised. And with every broken shard, Sara’s mind took one step closer to the cosmic equivalent of bleating curses at the world and watching it all burn down while marching into the inferno with dual salutes to whatever spiritual dirt bag controlled fate and its sadistic sense of humor.

 

Gritting her teeth, Sara clipped the saber hilt to her belt, fished the metal orb from her poop caked belt pouch and grabbed one of her slug throwers with her right hand. She spun on her heel and marched to meet the coming tide of bucket heads with a furious glare plastered across her face. Gun and grenade brandished before her, she kept her fury burning behind the amber gold of her eyes and the pronounced knit of her brow.

 

When there was a passable distance between the tide of armor and the enraged Zeltron, Sara stopped and pulled the hammer of her long gun back with a dramatic click. The steel of her thermal detonator and her primed slug thrower were hard to see in the dark. But she aimed at the sound of their movements and didn't care if she was wrong.

 

“THAT’S ENOUGH!!!” Sara bellowed. “I’M SICK OF THIS FEKKIN’ DRUK!” 

 

“We come to this planet to try and help the people. The hospital blows up, the authorities start firing at us, the warehouse we were hiding in blows up, we get covered in refuse chasing an ominous chortle that came from ‘the deep.’ If it's not one thing, IT’S THE OTHER!

 

Sara took a short breath. “Now… Can you put your weapons down and act like this is a real s$%tstorm!? Or do I need to play with the red button on my little friend here and see how many bucket heads I can take out before going down in a hail of gunfire from whoever is left?!”

 

Sara’s eyes were wide and manic. Her pheromones were emitting feelings of fury and rage. But it didn’t mean much when she smelled like the south end of a north bound Dewback. The hand holding the gun was shaking ever so slightly as nerves fought to pervade her surface thoughts. But she was sick of it. This nightmare had to end.

Edited by Scorpion

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“You have contacted the Expeditionary force of his Imperial Majesty, the high emperor of the Sith. Surrender the Jedi among you or you will all perish in fire and blood.”

 

Mjan listened inquisitively as the voice spanned the entirety of the expanse, the Tsis troubled by the intent he heard in its tone. His gaze shifted toward the others, his existence placing them in peril because of whom he was. He didn't care for the idea no more than he cared for facing his darkness, but even as he followed away, it didn't quite sit right upon his conscious. And yet, he knew if he was caught, a Tsis Jedi wouldn't likely bold well for those who knew. He sighed, lowering his head.

 

As Leena dropped back from the group, he turned in an attempt to persuade her not to. But he went unnoticed as she passed, the others turning down a tight and narrow passage to the side. Looking back one last time, he followed quickly and caught back up to the group as they entered another expansive room, this one littered with soot, corpses, innards. And the stench, it recoiled Mjan even through the rebreather. And yet, his mind was elsewhere, the echoing march of the Imperial War Machine, an inevitability that had always haunted even the best of his dreams.

 

Shaking his mind loose from the fear, he gazed over the edge of the ravine, looking down the caves in shaft to find a hidden area, the emerald green glow coming from below illuminating his reddened skin and golden gaze. Mjan couldn't do it. He had to face the greatest of his fears. He had to go back, no matter the outcome, whether he faced death or imprisonment as the last of the Adas bloodline. He wouldn't let a youngling face the darkness alone, even if he was susceptible to it.

 

Just as he turned the acute passage to follow behind Leena, he found Sara standing there, her hand shakingly gripping tightly a slugthrower, the echoing march growing ever closer and he heard her words resound of her conviction, it outweighing his own moments before. Reaching up, he placed his hand upon the slide, his gaze meeting hers as a humble smile crossed it. "You might need those later. Go and rejoin the others. This is my fight. I'll protect Leena." He spoke in a soft but subtle tone, almost as if he expected to never see her again. With that, he nodded, and moved in front of her between her and the Imperial Troopers.

 

Standing there, in the darkness between Sara and the Darkhand, Mjan had readorned the flex sleeve that gave him his human appearance and hid the Sith lineage that ran through him. If she wanted to get to the Sith, she would have to put the slug through him, the same going for the Darkhand members before him. Grabbing his stave, he firmly planted it in the cortosis rich soil and stood firm, presenting his hands for capture. He knew that without the Force, he was no match for them. But just perhaps, he could buy the others their freedom.

 

"You wanted the Jedi? Well here I am. I will not resist, but only if you let the others go."

Edited by MSA
To correspond with Sara's actions
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“You have contacted the Expeditionary force of his Imperial Majesty, the high emperor of the Sith. Surrender the Jedi among you or you will all perish in fire and blood.”

 

Xar paused at the statements. So...rude. Still, the others were passing by, and the Nemodian had just ordered Xar to not shoot the soldiers. 

 

“Everyone here is so...so…” Xar began to grumble but stopped himself. So his requirements were getting stiffer. He could do this. He waited a moment till the others couldn’t overhear him and then spoke softly to the soldiers who were coming on them.

 

“Very well sir. You will have no arguments from us or our partner and leader of the group…” Xar almost chuckled at the next part. The one perk of being a droid is that others could take the blame for a droid’s actions when needed. 

 

“Nemodian Jim Meer. However…”

 

Xar looked at those in the group and realized the obvious. Almost everyone had gone back, blindly without the droid’s light. The Mon Cal. The Zeltron. The red skinned being. All had gone back to face the Sith troopers. All except the Neimoidian.

 

“Son of a jawa kissing...troopers? All three Jedi are coming to you. We wash our hands of them. Deal with them swiftly for all our sakes.”

 

And with that, Xar switched off his communications and dashed after the Neimoidian. This whole situation reeked, and not just from the sewage. A well dressed lying Neimoidian wants to go find a strange voice through raw sewage, being pursued by Sith troopers who he didn’t want dead? No doubt they were a distraction for these jedi so he could claim the true prize here. This Neimoidian...whoever he was…knew more than he was letting on. 

 

The room, with all of the black ash, the burnt corpses, the old and destroyed equipment, was where Xar found the Nemodian. 

 

“Meer!” Xar uttered as his light bathed the room in a crimson red. He stepped closer and had his claws open, ready. 

 

“The Sith have what they want. And we believe this…” Xar gestured to the room, specifically to the breathing sound, “...is what you want, no? So tell us...who are you, really? And what is this? We demand to know...now”

 

Xar flexed his claws and readied himself for an attack. The Nemodian may have been blind, but he could navigate and no doubt could fight. Now there were only the two, and Xar was no idiot. The Neimoidian didn’t necessarily need him anymore to navigate down this far. 

 

If this liar lied again, Xar would only need a fraction of a second to activate his claws and leap forward to slice a disgraceful throat before he drew his knife. If he drew his knife before answering, Xar could dodge and impale his foe.  Such a death would be worthy of lying to a superior being at this time. 

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Nok moved to the edge of the pit. His blind regard switched from artifact to artifact, and his fingertips began to unconsciously rub together, a slight smile quirking the edges of his mouth.

22 hours ago, Xar said:

“Meer!” Xar uttered as his light bathed the room in a crimson red. He stepped closer and had his claws open, ready. 

 

“The Sith have what they want. And we believe this…” Xar gestured to the room, specifically to the breathing sound, “...is what you want, no? So tell us...who are you, really? And what is this? We demand to know...now”

Nok's body froze. Then, smoothly, he turned to the droid.

 

"Fine. My name is Nok Morliss. I'm a wealthy entrepreneur and an amateur Sith. I was tasked by a potential master to come to Mon Calamari and retrieve...something." He turned his face upward, as if in thought. "I'm not sure what, that was kept fairly vague. Just an 'offering' of some kind. When the dark voice started talking and the chanting began, I made what I think is a rather reasonable assumption and decided it was linked to what I came for. Judging by this room," he said, a smile splitting his face, "I'd say I was right. Even a tenth of the rubble in here is valuable, not to mention an excellent bribe for any Sith on Onderon." He turned back to the droid. "I think you'll understand why I wanted to keep this from the more 'old-fashioned' members of the group. True to form, they've gone off to die gloriously.

 

And thanks to your quick thinking, we'll have a chance to explain ourselves to the troopers. My ship and identity are both registered by the Sith Imperial census bureau, so if we can get them to not shoot us long enough to look up my name, we should be fine." He grinned wider. "Especially with something like this lab to offer. Play it smart, and we'll get out of this alive, and may be richer than we started. There is still that reward out on Jedi right?"

 

Nok turned back to regard the pit.

 

"Now, before we start congratulating ourselves, I should tell you that I'm having trouble sensing down there, which I think unfortunately means we've reached the end of the line," Nok said, pointing down.

Edited by Nok Morliss
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The liquid cable launchers pulled the commandos of the Darkhand brigade further into the massive tangle of caverns, launching them in groups from one side of the chasm to the other. Delta’s eyes searched the periphery of the cavern’s entrance as he waited for his men and women to form back up behind him. Seventy odd commandos in the caverns hunting the ghosts of the Jedi order, while the rest of the Darkhand fought and died topside. His eyes took in the long ago carved wall of the cave system, its stone still strong after what could have been centuries of unuse. 

 

The internal comm on his helmet chirped, Blacktorin’s voice, cool and soothing, spoke over the command net, Something only the Lieutenants and above could hear. “We are on their heels, let's get going.” Delta nodded his head and looked behind him. The unit of men were ready, blasters, sonics, flechettes, up and pointing towards the entrance where the Jedi had very likely gone.He waved his hand and together they began to move into the cave system. Delta led alongside Blacktorin while the rank and file, sergeants and privates moved in several fluid firing lines behind him. Lines that with a nod of the head could pour a wicked fire onto whatever they found. 

 

But it was the Jedi that found them first. 

 

The ominous sound of an old fashioned slugthrower’s rear hammer was surprisingly loud in the quietness of the cave, especially through helmets that amplified the sound of low level noises. But before he could react a voice shouted out from ahead and Delta and his first firing line fell into a crouch, rifles and carbines tracking for the noise. The IR lights of the firing lines and Delta’s own E-22 revealed a red faced Zeltron holding what looked like a slugthrower and a single thermal detonator. And a single lightsabre on her belt. She looked less than ten meters away and Delta cursed himself for not sending out a group of skirmishers that would have found this threat far before it reared its head to his company. The second firing line stepped up behind their crouching squadmates and doubled the number of rifles pointing downrange. 

 

Delta spoke softly into his helmet comm unit as he triggered it back to Darkhand company. His thumb sliding along the fire selector switch of his rifle as he did so. 

 

“Non lethals only are cleared for action-” 

 

But before he could give the command to eliminate the threat posed by a single unarmoured Jedi, a second one pushed past her and lowered her slugthrower with his hand. Also thereby eliminating the threat of her thermal detonator. There was no way she would not just frag them both with the thing if a single blaster bolt tore through whatever defenses they might have. Delta blinked. What was their plan? 

 

Then the man spoke as he planted his staff and moved to cover the woman with his body. A valiant effort and Delta mentally saluted his courage. He hadn’t been on the briefing, but a Jedi was a Jedi and these two were the bravest Delta had ever seen. For both were unarmoured, and undefended save for the single stave planted in the cave’s flooring. Their Lighsabres were even on their hips. It was enough. As tempting as the man’s offer was Delta couldn’t easily take it. They couldn’t afford a jedi to be conscious in their midst, even restrained. It was like inviting a Rancor onto a schoolbus, no one was that stupid. And Delta was far from foolish. He had no desire to risk more lives than he needed.

 

So they didn't need to kill either of them. But they needed to eliminate the threat. And there was no time to negotiate. 

 

Blaster rifles, flechette launchers, slugthrower carbines, and Sonics were pointed at the human who had loomed out of the darkness like some great beacon of light. Well with dozens of rifles pointed at him, most of which carried IR glowrods underneath their forward grips, he did quite look like a man standing in a beam of sunlight. At least this Jedi and the girl behind him would have one more day in the sun.

 

Delta nodded, squeezing his trigger as he whispered the firing order through their helmet comms. And like a wave, dozens of rifles discharged at the man and the girl behind him. Lighting the cave up in a storm of blinding light. If Delta hadn’t been wearing his helmet, his ear drums would have been ruptured by the accompanying blasts of the sonic weapons. 

 

Sonics screeched towards the two Jedi along with a wave of stun rounds fired by blaster rifles. The first to split and destroy eardrums and balance, the second to eliminate the threat completely. No Jedi could keep up concentration from unshielded ears and two dozen stun blasts.The commandos holding slugthrowers and flechettes kept their weapons ready and trained should the first assault fail. 

 

<<Capture Shot Requested on Mjan Sadow Iv-Adas and Sara Corion>>


 

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Ca'Aran

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As Xar listened to the words that were spoken, his body slowly relaxed into a more neutral stance. His claws bent back into a non-combative state. Finally, some truth. 

 

“And thanks to your quick thinking, we'll have a chance to explain ourselves to the troopers…” 

 

And some praise didn’t hurt either, especially since Xar felt like he had done most of the work to get down here. The navigating, the leading, the source of light… the only thing the others had done was knock down a bridge and stop an explosion. Nothing compared to the superior acts of a superior droid.

 

Xar took a moment to study the equipment in the pit. It honestly looked like a bunch of broken old tools and long destroyed lab equipment. A quick glance at the parchments revealed nothing, and honestly this all looked rather useless. 

 

Still, this Nok seemed fascinated by the pit and the contents. And he was paying. 

 

“We do not see much value here, Nok…” Xar stated. He looked back and turned to examine a rotted body. It was old. The flesh was partially gone, but not from vermin. There were no maggots, no rodents, nothing. No…

 

Xar poked at the body a bit, confident that it was once a quarren. With a splurt, the body leaked some partially liquifying organs out a newly poked hole. The flesh was still breaking down naturally, at an incredibly slow pace. By his assumption, Xar believed it was still in the state of active decay. Even with the obvious scorch marks in the room, the body still had much body to it. Something was off here. Vermin go everywhere, even this far down. Why hadn’t they eaten anything down here? Why hadn’t the bacteria acted quicker?

 

Xar moved alongside Nok again and stared at the darkness. His red sight fought the green glow, creating a sharp silent battle of twin colors. A battle of running blood piercing a miasmic aura. 

 

“If this is the end of the line, then where is that voice of yours?” Xar asked. With a curious intention, Xar picked up a loose pebble with his foot claws, brought it up to his hands, and threw it into the waters. 

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They say that before battle, there comes a calming moment, a moment where truths are realized and decisions made, and a moment where instinct overcomes thought and at the right moment, action overtakes instinct. For Mjan, this was that moment, his golden gaze staring into a blinding light from dozens of Imperial Troopers standing before him, and in that moment, he understood defeat at it's very core. And in this moment, Mjan found a semblance of clarity in the calm.

 

His grief had blinded him, Rose and Nia both having disappeared from sight and touch, and he had cut himself off from it, pushing back his attachments to the two in an attempt to prolong the feeling of such pain. But now, here, in this moment, he let it grasp his mind in remembrance, as he readied for whatever decision this Commander chose to be his finale. And taking a deep breath, he let the mental block he held go. If he was destined to die here this day, then he had so much to look forward in the afterlife. But if not, and they chose to capture him instead, at least he would have lived up to the Jedi that Nia believed the Jedi to be. And in that, he smiled.

 

But as that smile graced his lips, a shiver twisted up his spin as the Force flowed back into him, a breath of fresh air flowing into an unconscious soul with Aira's wise words of the Force echoing in his mind as he went to react, knowing their intent of the former and that Sara had been included. "The Force is whatever you make it, it can be anything you wish it to be." As the sounds of fire lit up the narrow tunnels, Mjan swirled his hands circularly as he called the Force to his aid briefly at the front, the first few waves of the sonics and stun bolts deflecting off of the Force and crashing into the stone around them as he stepped into a turn hearing the stone begin to crack and crumble, using what energy he held left to push Sara out of the way and to safety as the tunnel behind him collapsed.

 

Knowing that Sara was safe, the others were safe, the smile still graced his lips as the barrier around him seceded against the Troopers fire and he fell into oblivion. No matter what they did to him, he no longer cared. Death would give him Rose and Nia. And capture would give them nothing save the seemingly last Adas. But as his form hit against the floor in unconsciousness, the flex mask that covered his Tsis lineage drooped against the floor, the tears revealing the red skin and barbed tendrils that were hidden beneath, a prize worthy of any well machined Commander.

 

 

<<Capture Shot Resist Assist on Sara Corion, Capture Shot Successful on Mjan Sadow iv-Adas>>

Edited by MSA
Capture Shot Resist Assist and Capture Shot Success
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Sara’s mind was like a Nar Shaddaa sky-way; thoughts screamed past her perception before she could hold on. Impulses pounded against her with little care for which one took root. 

 

Still, in a flash of clarity before the crash of arms, Sara’s adrenaline fueled awareness illuminated fragments of a familiar voice echoing through the cavern passage. It was the Nemoidian. She couldn’t place who he was talking to, but the raspy lilt to his cocky posturing was unmistakable 

 

"My...name... Nok Morliss-iss. I'm… Sith-th"

 

Kriff, Leena was right!

 

But she couldn’t do anything about that right now. Anger boiled over regarding the tentacle-faced man that put himself between her and the troopers. She could barely understand his ill-formed attempts at chivalry, but that didn’t stop the metaphorical steam from pouring out of her ears. Inaudibly cursing at him and refusing to move, she instead adjusted the aim of her pistol so she could hit the troopers above his shoulder if need be; at least, where she thought the troopers were. It was a big mass of targets so even a wide shot might catch them.

 

Though, with the firepower they had, the trooper’s shots would tear through both of them regardless of the shield he posed. From the sounds of their footfalls, there were quite a few of them and Sara’s past assured her that: where there were troopers, there were always more troopers.  

 

With seconds to live before the Sith unloaded their first volley, a small part of Sara thanked whatever maker deigned to create her in such a tumultuous world with another of her infamous finger-based salutes. Then she clicked the trigger of her slugthrower and hit the button of her thermal det. 

 

5

 

Before she could see what happened, a red arm snaked out and hit her in the chest, sending her thermal detonator flying toward the troop formation. Her body lifted from the stone and flew cartwheeling with unseen force a good fifteen feet backward just as the tentacle faced man’s barrier braced against a rainbow of gunshots. Where the barrier came from, Sara didn’t know. Nor did she fully comprehend what had just happened. All she knew was that a few of her joints were sprained, a few ribs were broken and her gun was no longer in her hand; neither was the detonator. Good thing I have a spare gun... Priorities Sara... Priorities.

 

4

 

Mjan’s technique succeeded in keeping her from gunfire. But the occasional tock! sound of rubble falling was replaced by larger rocks that began to tumble from the ceiling. Apparently the Jedi’s technique had dislodged something. Things were going from bad to worse. And as the chorus of rocks falling from the ceiling surrounded her, Sara internally screamed at her arms to start dragging her further down the tunnel. They were the only extremities that didn’t seem to be damaged from the tumble she took. 

 

 

She had gained some ground but it was slow going and she had no idea if her thermal was going to do anything. All she knew is there was barely anything keeping her from trouble at this point. Every desperate clawing gesture was potentially futile but her stubborn survival instinct would not let her give up. She kept scrabbling forward even as more rocks began to fall all around her. She didn’t know where she was. All she knew is that the troops were in the other direction and that was good enough for her. 

 

 

I hope Leena is safe, wherever she is. And I don’t know if she can hear me, but maybe her force weirdness can reach out. The Sith are here. No one is safe…

 

1...

 

<< Capture Shot Defense >>

Edited by Scorpion

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Capture shot ruling


 

Spoiler

 

Okay, so first thing's first, Mijan already confirmed himself captured. This leaves me to analyze the rest of the situation, which really boils down to a lot of troops firing, Mijan throwing up a barrier to hold it off and offering Sara a moment to escape through a collapsing tunnel. All in all, well written on all sides. Mijan is a Knight and is certainly capable of the cover he provided, which was the tipping point for me determining that there was a large window in the narrative that Sara could have escaped through, the net cast by Delta's attempt not quite encircling her.


Capture vs. Mijan successful
Capture vs. Sara failed
Live thermal detonator in play - this needs immediate attention by Delta and potentially Mijan.

 

EDIT: As a note, there is still flammable/explosive lethane gas everywhere. In the interest of the story, the single round Sara is supposed to have fired from her slugthrower in her last post is here considered to have been a misfire, which did not discharge and subsequently did not set off an enormous fireball, which likely would have dire consequences for the story. This was determined by the storyline GM (Leena) to be the best way to handle this moving forward, and I agree.

 

Edited by Ary the Grey

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Leena held her breath. Her eyes were closed as she focused inward on the force as it churned within her chest. She heard the stamp of the troopers. It sounded like they were just outside the crevice she had wedged herself into. She daren’t open her eyes even. 

 

And then, it erupted, chaos. The odd warp of the sound-field as the chorus of stun fire and sonic weapons unleashed. That was not the most terrifying part though, the sudden rumble of the stone around her was. It sounded, sounded like the shaft was giving in. A cave in?

 

Leena sunk even deeper into the force, trying to envelope herself in a sphere of flowing protective energy, unsure if even that could save her if the entire aged shaft collapsed in on itself.

 

Out of sight and unheard over the tumble of boulders from the ceiling outside, the pressure of water began to spray inwards like dozens of closely compacted fire suppression systems of yore; except this water was salty and pure and COLD!

 

______________
 

 Meanwhile, at the maw to the pit, Xar’s well aimed rock arced downwards through  the makeshift opening in the ceiling before it landed with a ‘bloop’ mete inches from the shoreline where the nearest waters met the rocky shoreline of the massive cavern. Nothing stirred as the slight ripples faded into the darkness.

 

Out of sight from the caved in mouth overlooking the desecrated work space / lab / temple / thing a desecrated and rundown altar made of large stones stood at the edge of the water. Atop it sat the armored skeletal remains of an ancient humanoid. Elsewhere an overturned set of 4 shelves sat atop the remains of books, parchments, and what could only be described as several ancient shattered datapads.

 

Piles of bones lined the walls haphazardly as if they had been discarded without a care, each one covered in gouges and were those teeth marks? 

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SHADOW

 

 

The black tunnels flickered in snapshot framerates while a madbeast of unhinged speed thundered through the old systems. As fast as his natural body could push, the dark rush of the force urged him beyond that. A sonic press carried the assassin over tremendous chasms between strides, carrying the hunter far beyond the highest paces of an Asharl panther. The deep energy buried here was his beacon, a fascination inside of him fueling his turbulence, for his return had only unearthed the weakest of adversaries thus far. This encounter would not yield the same results. Retired sub-oceanic channel systems like these were sullied to the treads with dirt and muck layering themselves thrice over, and tracking the march of many men through these conditions became a thing of ease when your eyes were one with the darkness. The adrenaline of the hunt elevated his sensory perceptions in every sense, almost tasting the threat of excitable air leaking in abundance, savoring the bountiful life force straddled at the front line.

 

Communications rattled off inside of his half-mask, keeping him apprised as the moments between Darkhand and the objectives intensified. Erroneous blocks of static worsened the deeper he journeyed, thankfully stealing his attention from the worthless rabble that echoed through the wide shaft part-ways. None of that mattered now that he drew dangerously close. The Neimodian apprentice that was sent here had found himself in the unforgiving stomach of destiny, signaling the the imperial machine of a presence far superior to that of simple rebel scum. What was of interest was the crackling archaic voice that had rummaged over the waters of Mon Calamari, the one that spoke with an alien tongue unknown and abstract of forgotten dialect, in a tone that seemed more drowned than coherent. That voice had gone quiet.

 

Silence.

 

 

The language of chaos rang loudly, bellowing rifles spit forward in an overwhelming tide of power. Over seventy of his own ahead, enormous in gathering, engorged the underpass wastefully. The Dark Lord shoved passed the Darkhand, titanic in the way his strength and speed carved a path through the formation. As he swept through the masses, their tactical visors synchronized that this was a friendly that had joined them, but their shock and awe of the man was not subdued by any stretch. Too late. The only shed of lighting came from the beaming of glow-rods, and while the first non-lethal volley let loose, an amateurish scramble between the two unidentified creatures became reality. The Blood Prince gave them a choice, therein lies his lesson. Exodus crashed forward noticing the glinting metal of a hand-grenade jar unwittingly from the fumbling woman, only seconds to react, the allfather knew this well, he reached out from two-thirds inside of the shootout and heaved a wolfish telekinectic throw with his left. With his right, he simultaneously yanked his arm backwards, pulling against what he had just shoved. The thermal detonator, and three of the servicemen whipped forward with bone-breaking airspeed, and then as if on strings, the three meat-sacks were wrenched backwards, careening into their comrades. 

 

 

Two, one...

 

 

 

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As the wave of bolts and shrieking echoes of the sonic blasts died away the room was left utterly silent. Here and there a pebble fell in cascade along the collapse, but in the IR reflection a solitary silver orb came silently towards the lines of the Darkhand. At his side, Delta could feel Blacktorin pull away from him as she began to run towards the orb, perhaps to what? Kick it like it was a laserball? Delta admired her courage and just as suddenly a wave of energy passed through his men, parting the lines like they had been crushed by a cavalry charge. His visor indicated another blinking frequency attached to his SCI and Delta smiled.

Two men, privates Jhren and Helmsdorn, were tossed like leaves before the storm that was the Sith Lord. And their shouts of alarm echoed through the helmet embedded comms until a flash of light overcame the automatic darkening of the HUD and Delta involuntarily winced away. A swatch of stone and air was vaporized in a mighty arc that would have cut like a scythe through his men should the Sith not intervened with his skillful use of the force. Even the two privates, discarded like wrappers of ration packs, fell to the ground of the cavern relatively unharmed. Save for their pride and one rifle that had broken its stock in the tumble.

There was a pause as Delta looked over the scene before him, a Sith, awesome in power, alone, and a crumpled form of a single jedi, laying in an ever expanding pool of salinated water. And from the speed of its rise, Delta could assume that this cave system was lost. There would be no good to come from going further, or clearing the rockfall. All they would likely find were a body of a drowned girl. He pushed forward, running past the shocked Blacktorin to the Jedi who was lying face down in what very well could e his grave if they didn’t rush to save him from drowning. He could hear the footsteps of several more commandos as they rushed to assist their captain in securing the prize.

 

He was a small man compared to the bulky troopers that hauled him out of the dark water. Delta grabbed his hair and steadied his head, letting his HUD fully document the red face and the weird tendrils that spoke to perhaps say another humanoid species that Delta had not yet met. He tempted the use of an actual glow rod, not trusting the identification software to work with only the IR spectrum. Though far more detailed, he seemed to match the handouts perfectly. Delta looked up to the Sith Lord and saluted. Crisp and cleanly. The gesture carried the honour that Delta bestowed upon him and the thanks for the lives of his men. But with the water rapidly rising to the level of his knees Delta doubted that they could stay here for much longer and with a hand gesture His crew began to double back, searching for another cave system to reach the departed Jedi. 

 

Delta and Blacktorin kept close by the trooper hauling the fallen Jedi. Blacktorin kept her Slugthrower close, it's muzzle pressed firmly against the back of his skull. For she and Delta knew, that any Jedi assaulting the unit would not stop except under the threat of a murder.

 

As a cohesive unit the darkhand began to move, the three lines of men searching every crevice for the slightest hint of life or new tunnels. 

 

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Ca'Aran

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On 5/25/2020 at 11:21 PM, Xar said:

“If this is the end of the line, then where is that voice of yours?” Xar asked. With a curious intention, Xar picked up a loose pebble with his foot claws, brought it up to his hands, and threw it into the waters. 

"If I had to guess, somewhere down there. I think-"

 

Nok stopped as a deep boom followed by a low rumble that swelled into the roar of shattering stone echoed through the chamber. Throughout it, he remained perfectly still, but as the cacophony subsided, he turned his head and stared blindly towards the tunnel entrance that had been the source of the explosion.

 

"...someone survived that." His mouth pursed in a thoughtful expression. "Just one...and in pain. Broken ribs, at least." Nok stayed silent for several long moments. Then, what was left of his eyes widened, the ugly scars spreading out from under the blindfold stretching and twisting in his expression of surprise.

 

Then, just as quickly, his expression brightened, a smile sliding onto his face. He turned to Xar and kept his voice low. "I think we just hit on a stroke of luck." Looking back at the hole, he wryly added, "assuming whatever's down there didn't just get woken up." He stood up. "Let's go collect our friend."

 

Maintaining as much class as possible in a robe soaked with fecal matter, Nok started towards the tunnel and the survivor.

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Xar glanced back at where they had come from after the large boom noise came. His sensors scanned the walls intently, searching for any sign of a cave in at their spot. The walls shook, the rocks shuddered...but all was still after. Nothing to worry about at the moment, though another explosion like that could be bad.

 

"...someone survived that."

 

“Impossible. That was most likely a thermal detonator. The only beings that could survive…” Xar had to stop. In the distance, there was a heat signature. Xar stared in disbelief. 

 

"Just one...and in pain. Broken ribs, at least” 

 

Xar glared at the Neimodian. “You are much too perceptive for a blind man Nok. How do you expect to know their medical condition without even seeing them?” 

 

Still, despite Xar’s annoyance at possibly being outdone by his partner, Xar silently agreed with the being. It looked like there was only one person. If they were a threat, surely he, as the superior being, would be able to take care of them. 

 

“Ah ah ah…” Xar said, stopping Nok with an outstretched arm. “As the leader of the group, the injured being will receive us best. We will lead…” 

 

And with that, Xar took the lead, letting the light from his red eye light up the area. Not that it did much good. Dust and rubble had flown everywhere, clouding normal types of vision. Xar hated to admit it to himself, but he was wrong. A cave-in had happen somewhere. The air here was much more still. 

 

Still, a problem to solve later. 

 

“Well well well…” Xar muttered as he made his way forward. The heat signature in his sensors made a much more recognizable image. And one he was not hoping for.  Course, he didn't know what he was hoping for. 

 

“If it isn’t the crazy one...” Xar stated he stopped. Up ahead the red body of the Zeltron came into view of his even more crimson light. Xar quickly noted she had a weapon.  

 

“Zeltron! It is good that you are still functioning.” Xar lied as he kneeled over the broken body. He would’ve rather had nobody survived but Nok seemed to wanted someone else alive.  “Do not move yet though. You are quite damaged. Still, you are functioning. What happened?”  

Edited by Xar
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The dark presence that emanated from the maw of the pit that Nok and Xar had stood at the precipice of echoed a silent hunger, it could taste its revenge and there was more than one of them. Then surges of power on the long stagnant force spoke that their snare had worked even better than it had hoped. Users of the magicks had heard the call and followed the summons of the deep.
 

Then . . . the closest prey (Nok and Xar) turned and started off towards the chaotic rumbling that had echoed down the chasm of freedom.

 

A surge of anger rippled across the waves of darkness, but quickly subsided at the taste of the fast approached new arrival. A stronger, more worthy victim was approaching.  The Spirit of The Deep could wait patiently a bit longer; after all, had it not waited this long? Mere moments more in the span of time would be nothing to finally exact penance.

 

Settling back into the silence, a deep joyous hunger twinged the call of the force. Ensnared for so very long, it could not hide it anymore. It had not had the need to. Soon the feast would begin.

 

_____________________
 

Further up the abandoned shaft, chaos reigned king over all. The display of force power from the Sithling Jedi had destabalized an already precarious situation, pebbles and boulders fell free from the darkened ceiling above, thundering to the floor sending up plumes of dust, dirt and ash. Accompanying this was the true master of Mon Calamari; the sea. Cold seawater, untouched by the warming light of the sun and pure in its salinated state, cascaded after the fallen rocks, tumbling down both sides of the pile of rubble, that reached nearly to where the ceiling had stood, in a frigid waterfall.

 

The water flowed quickly in both directions along the flat portion of the tunnel, only stopping to build its strength when the shaft began to arc back upwards towards the surface. It was only a matter of time before the seas reclaimed the shaft and all it touched as its own. It was the way of the masters of this and every world.

 

At the opposite end of the shaft, beyond the debris, the water flowed downwards, towards the maw, and it quickly surged passed the fallen Zeltron, a stream of near freezing liquid racing until it could find a wall upon which to gnaw. The fallen woman meant nothing to it, nor did the metallic feet of Xar or the Nemoidian. The waters did not care, they simply surged to claim that which was their own and sacrifice any that stood before it.

 

And then an explosion echoed up and down the shaft, vaporizing part of the hill of cavern ceiling. It rattles rattled forth a few more rocks and boulders that tumbled downwards and rolled to the foot of the pile.

 

The waters only surged downwards and outwards faster, loosed from their bonds.

 

____________________

 

Within the crevice, Leena crouched, envelopes in the warmth of the light side of the force. Even as the cold waters lapped at her feet and calves, she tried to give her body over to the warm embrace that was the force and ignore the sharp pain of unsuspected cold.

 

Did anyone survive?’ she wondered silently. A cave in and then an explosion surely were not good signs. Now with the water rushing in, Leena knew her companions could be in real trouble, if they were alive. Reaching out with the force, she sought to touch them, even the Nemodiain, to see if she could find them; see if they lived on. Through the surges of the darkness that had mummified this very venture from the moment they came underground and now seemed as if to awaken, Leena’s mind pressed. Before she could find her companions, except Master Mjan, who seemed to be in some sort of altered state and unresponsive to her prodding, Leena encountered another force of darkness. Another Sith? If so, it was nothing like the presence of The Neimodian; nor did it have the ancient beastial-awakening feel of the darkness that enshrouded them all. This, was darkness, personified.

 

Leena did not have time to ponder it or prod any further as soldiers came upon her. Carefully shoving the lightsaber hilt at her hip deeper into her soaked and filthy robes so as to not give herself away immediately, Leena pried herself out slowly, raising her hands up in the air. “Don’t shoot! I am a medic. I am sworn to preserve life, not take it.”

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“Zeltron! It is good that you are still functioning.”

 

Liar...

 

The monstrosity’s tinny warble woke Sara from her mental internment. She sat strewn about the ragged cave as icy cold saltwater burned her still open wound. Pain screamed with abandon in her tired mind and threatened to consume her, but every stubborn instinct she had screamed in equal measure back into the terrible void. 

 

Her thermal had only succeeded in causing a bigger cave-in and more water to crash into the tunnels, cementing the fact that she was likely going to die here. But she wasn’t going to take death lying down. 

 

Sara winced as she violently wrenched her joints back into place and hissed audibly as she hauled herself to her feet, scowling at Xar all the while. She wasn’t sure when the saber hilt got into her hand, nor when her remaining slug-thrower made it into her other hand. But her golden eyes bored into the dim red of the droid’s optics.

 

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Sara yelled. 

 

A noticeable incidental surge of anger swept outward through the force with every loud syllable, crashing into the darkness that she felt approaching, and the darkness that sat quietly belching malice through a gaping maw not far from where she stood. 

 

In this cave of madness and pain, she had had just about enough of everything. 

 

The snap hiss of the saber was inaudible over the powerful crashing in her head. And though her gun hand was shaking, she could feel as her callused fingers pulled back the hammer. 

 

“I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE GORRAM CAVES! Now! I’m not going to say it again.” Sara briefly sputtered, expelling seawater caught in her mouth. “STEP OFF!”

 

The Zeltron held the saber’s blade at a lethal angle between her and Xar and stared him down with manic chaos in her amber gaze.

Edited by Scorpion

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    In a sequence of moments, it seemed like everything was coming undone. Agents of that ever present poison that the Jedi called the Sith were in through the tunnels, accompanied by a nightmarish entity of pain whose presence felt like shards of glass racing across exposed flesh. It was easy to feel small and powerless when confronted with such relentless oppression, but even in this sickened place T’ali’au was surrounded and filled with the presence of Loloto. The priestess had noticed in her time abroad that people who were separated from nature equated its harmony with peace. Harmony meant that everything had a place in the waters of creation that benefitted everything else in some way, even if it wasn’t immediately apparent. Nature was fully prepared to rise against anything that threatened the natural order, in ways that certainly weren’t peaceful.

 

    T’ali’au observed the thousands of currents that were interwoven to create the ecology around her, and gently nudged certain ones. Loloto cursed those that tried to seize the power of creation away from her, but allowed for a select few to sway the natural path of things as long as they continued to embrace her design. It was not against nature for the local predators to hunt prey and defend their territory. The natural caves and heavy flooding of the area created a perfect point of access as the ocean demonstrated in blunt physicality the difference between harmony and peace.

 

The caves erupted into chaos as sleek and powerful predators surged in from the depths. Keelkana slithered and swam through the tunnels in a territorial blood frenzy, while krakana breached from the larger areas intent on devouring large swathes of Sith troops. The enemy meant to walk against the current, and now the tides were rising and meeting them head on.

 

T’ali’au readied her spear and let her presence fade into the world around her. Soon she would move through the slaughter to aid her unknown allies, making use of the discord to mitigate the numbers and discipline of the enemy. The day could still be won.

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21 hours ago, Scorpion said:

“I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE GORRAM CAVES! Now! I’m not going to say it again.” Sara briefly sputtered, expelling seawater caught in her mouth. “STEP OFF!”

 

The Zeltron held the saber’s blade at a lethal angle between her and Xar and stared him down with manic chaos in her amber gaze.

 

Nok held up his hands, stopping roughly 30 feet away. The woman's form churned the Force around her, illuminating her body from within like a bonfire in a bottle. His voice was steady and serious, no pretense or smooth words to speak of.

 

"Calm down. You're angry. You're in a lot of pain. You're scared. I can feel it. Just take a few breaths and think. I promise there are ways out of this."

 

He waited, taking slow, measured breaths.

 

"You have four choices." He extended his hand with four fingers up. He started ticking them down.

 

"One, you can shoot me with that gun. Though," his sightless gaze deliberately fixed on her trembling hand, "I wouldn't bet on your aim. If you miss me, the droid will kill you before you can fire again. If you hit me, the droid will still kill you because he won't be getting paid and lightsabers are worth a lot of money.

 

Two, you can shoot the droid. You might damage him a little, but I doubt you'll kill him before he kills you.

 

Three, you can give me the gun. You have no way out, and if you want to bleed out what's left of your life here on the floor or get arrested and killed by the Sith for being a Jedi collaborator, that's your business. But I'm not turning my back on someone with a gun pointed at me.

 

Four," Nok's face remained passive, "you give me that lightsaber. I want it. I don't intend to use it. That's all I'll say on that. You do that, and when the Sith eventually dig their way in here, I'll tell them you work for me. If we both make it out of here, I'll give you transport off-planet."

 

He spread his hands, his voice still neutral.

 

"Those are your options as I see them. Now think carefully, because you don't get to choose twice. And if you don't choose, someone else in here will."

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Delta could feel his eyes tracking back to Blacktorin and the unconscious Jedi Knight. This had to have been a trap, no Jedi would have given up himself so easily and that fact nagged at his brain with as much force a deepset, muscle level training could give him. If they were trying to set up a trap in their midst, it would not do him much good since he was very obviously stunned. But did the Jedi have the ability to withstand such injury? One look at the red faced Jedi told him that the man was out for the count. Blood dribbled from his ears, the result of the traumatic damage to his inner ears from the sonic rifles and pistols that had taken part in his demise. Some buried part of Delta's subconscious felt pity for the man, a strange and lonely life dedicated to a religion that only got you killed in the end? What kind of life was that? 

 

A quick look a the lifeless hands saw no ring or lover’s bracelet and Delta felt a pang of remorse for whatever lay in wait for the Jedi at the end of the rocky tunnel. A long arduous torture in which he would eventually spill the location of his only friends? Maybe the promise of freedom, ending with a brutal death by a Sith Lord? Or perhaps a turning, a compromise that eventually left him a husk of his former self, too used up by hate to even realize his own despair? Delta could not guess the age of the man, but he knew that whatever his end might have been or whatever fate he would have, it would be a misery. Delta wryly made an internal note to never be on the wrong side of a rebellion, then frowned under his faceless helmet. 

 

Perhaps they would all meet the same end. 

 

But the barking voice of Jansen Trefey, the Sith Sergeant Major that had transferred in from the shattered 31st infantry regiment after Coruscant, woke him from his memories. It was a harsh voice that, though heard through the speakers embedded in the helmet, still carried his Savareen brogue. 

 

“Keep still  lassie! Keep your hands where we can see them! We aren’t going to hurt yeh.”

 

Delta grinned and pushed his way through the three rows of soldiers to see a mass of rifles pointed at a small Mon Calamari. The voice seemed to be a female and one look at her told him that there was little need to put her down. She was filthy, exhausted looking, and claiming to be a medic. Though she wore no uniform of the medical corps. Another plant in whatever trap the Jedi had set. 

 

But why would they sacrifice children like this so willingly? He sighed and stepped forward, turning the glowrod under his blaster rifle from IR emission to its regular setting. Filling the cavernous space with light that reflected harshly from the knee high water. Delta could see some of the soldiers' helmets turn to look back at him, and he knew in that instant that whatever training had been embedded into them, it wouldn’t sit well with them to gun down a child. He flicked his comm to its external settings and took a step towards her, keeping her covered with both barrels of his blaster rifle. 

 

“Miss. please turn over your lightsabre and you will not be harmed. None of us have any desire to kill you.” It wasn’t a lie either. 

 

He turned his comms back to the brigade frequency and whispered an order. 

 

“Deploy skirmishers.” And without acknowledgement ten of his men advanced ahead of the first line as it moved past the girl. Leaving her and their captain in between the lines of marching soldiers. The skirmishers were trained for this of course, and each man advanced with a partner. But they only got a few meters ahead before one of the corporals raised his hand in warning. Then shouted over the command frequency, the skirmisher’s rifles coming up to their shoulders. 

 

“Creatures in the water, Danger close.” 

 

“Back to the line, form up, at the double.” Delta barked the order at his men and they scanned the water with their rifles as they began to backpedal.  

 

One of the skirmishers fell, likely tripping over a loose stone, or perhaps having been grabbed and his scream filled their helmets. His partner tried to grab his hand but he was already dragged beneath the surface. So it had been a trap after all. And in the distance, at a divot in the tunnels Delta could see a writing mass of creatures splashing over each other to get at them. It took enormous patience for those in the front lines to not panic and begin blasting away at the creatures and the skirmishers but they had their orders. And the moment the skirmishers were at the line, the first line fired with everything they had, filling the tunnel with a mix of blaster bolts, flechettes, slugs, and sonics. Anything in the water that stirred would be mercilessly cut down. Delta could see a flash of burned scales and smiled. 

 

He looked back at the Mon Calamari and extended his right hand. 

 

“Come on little one. We will keep you safe, tell your friends to surrender so the red faced one doesn’t die here in a useless sacrifice, it's over.”

 

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Ca'Aran

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Xar was actually shocked at the Zeltron’s yelling at him. Here he was, a droid trying to help someone who he did not care for, and all he got was yelling? This being was so...rude! As his red sensor looked over the Zeltron trying to understand why this being was being so rude to a being superior to her. 

 

And then the weapons were being shown and threatened at him. That saber, or whatever it was. Xar almost lost it. He deserved far better than this. This being...this lesser peasant...deserved death. 

 

Had not Nok spoken up and started listing options, Xar may have simply attacked at that moment. But now she had a chance to do something right. To take back her words. To stand down. If she did, he would not kill her. 

 

So as Nok spoke and made deals like any Neimodian would, and the Zeltron held her weapons at the ready, Xar stood still. While the water was rushing at their feet, and the cave was dangerously ready to completely collapse, Xar stood still, waiting for an answer. If she fired her gun, he could easily gut her before he died. She was in range of a quick cut to the neck. If she used her saber, he could jump back and take cover. He was a superior being after all. He could survive this. 

 

And so Xar waited for an answer, his claws at his sides, ready to activate and spring into action. 

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Above the din of water cascading and crashing down, and the toe numbing cold that enveloped her feet, rising up over her boots and soaking them, Leena stared wide-eyed. She kept her hands in the air and didn’t move. ‘So this is what Sith look like? I thought they would have lightsabers. That is what all the manuscripts indicate...’

 

And then another trooper shouldered into view and demanded her lightsaber! Maybe they were THE Sith after all; otherwise how would the armor-clad warrior know about the hilt tucked in her clothes out of sight, in the dark? 
 

Reaching out on the force, Leena called the light towards her, from within, from whatever tendrilled strands could pierce the darkness, from the approaching being(s) of light; she mentally touched each of them steadying herself as she stared wide-eyed at the men with their guns. There was no sense in lying; deceit was the language of the Sith. “I had a lightsaber, I gave it to another already. They went on ahead with the others before the explosion.

 

The water was rapidly passing Leena’s knees by now. She was not sure she could trust the men / beings before her, but they hadn’t shot her right off so ... ‘Friends? Red faced one? Leena silently wondered what he was talking about. It was practically black, the faint glow of a light here or there barely illuminating.

 

And she heard it, the splashing and gnashing of teeth, gills, and flippers. It was quickly covered by the din of gunfire and the glowing flashes of red light from the tunnel. ‘Back the direction we came from?’ Leena pondered if she was not mistaken?  ‘Then maybe my friends are still safe.’

 

Closing her eyes, Leena gently inhaled, her open palms gently curling in relaxation allowing the force to wash over and through her as a cleansing wave, pushing the din of the chaos out of mind. She felt the darkness, could practically taste the chaos, felt the creatures as they approached. There were so many lives in this small patch of tunnel suddenly.

 

Suffice to say, this was not how Leena expected her first visit to her homeworld to go, at all!

 

With her hands still held in the air, Leena allowed the light to build up inside her. Suddenly she sent that light forth in a visible surge, blasting forth from her hands in an explosive wave of pure white blinding light. She snapped her fingers, both hands, and pushed the force outwards, her eyes clenched shut.

 

The entire cavern was suddenly illuminated. Light tore through the shadows illuminating bodies, rocks and walls, reflecting off of cold wet metal, shifting waters, and scales. Blindingly bright in its fury before it was gone.

 

And in that moment, Leena dove forward submerging herself in the water. She did not need to see. As the cold water hit her skin and her gilled lungs burned, Leena kicked once, her feet slid free of her boots, twice, she was shooting forward beneath the waters skimming above the ground, and three, out into the expanse of tunnel towards the raining flood.

 

And in it all, the waters continued to rise. 

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Exodus considered the arctic seawater that now washed upon his taut-leather greaves of black metal, the falling and spilling over unsettled rock, and the thundering crashes of movement above were the signs that these tunnels would soon drown whole. Darkhand Troopers withdrew from their position as the cold irrigation quickly sharpened senses, swallowing the strange milieu of gases that once stifled their air.  Some nodded as they passed by, shockingly aware that the explosion was moments from eating into their flesh and bone. Those remaining moulded themselves into a rear-guard as they backpedaled, keeping a decelerated pace to those that lead the charge opposite of where they now stood. Even if the majority knew nothing of this, the Dark Lord stood with them now. His eyes fixated on the collapsed infrastructure, almost as if he was seeing beyond the gathering of stone, watching what the rest could not. 

 

 

"Captain. They have spit on your mercy.. When will you show them your rage?"

The voice rumbled with sinister familiarity, dark and convincing,

Spoken with a low voice inside the head-space of Delta-73.

 

  

With arms behind his back, casually poised, the assassin understood how such things would play out. Followers of the Jedi doctrine were marvels of lunacy, they were unsettling creatures of predictable habit. They were abandoning one another, unclear whether they should lash out or surrender in the name of their vaunted peace. The oppression of the Dark Side fell hard as if the sun had suddenly rotted to a crisp, eating away at hope as they watched their world darken. The Blood Prince had shown himself in force, but with merciful hands. A knight of Fear had manifested from the shadows, and the calling of the creature that cried out from the depths of this forgotten place was enough for those of the Light to scatter like flies. If the Captain did not know before, the singularity of his ancient voice was enough to marry the idea that the King of the Sith had come. The six-heeled arachnid crest that overlaid his wyrmsteel breastplate seemed to flare alluringly in that moment, as glow-rods wormed their way passed the colossal man.  Then, the Darkhand clutched their weapons and emptied a ruthless barrage into the beasts that squirmed through the rockfall, igniting the tunnel with thrilling flashes of illumination. 

 

 

Exodus reached for his weapon slowly, drawing for metal with a scratching patience, knowing that these aquatic creatures were distractions. 

A true monster drew near.

 

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