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Darth Heretic

Mon Calamari

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With silent disbelief, Xar stared into the abyss, watching the Zeltron’s heat signature dissapear beyond his sensors. Alone now, Xar couldn’t believe what had just happened. 

 

“Apparently, being organic does not indicate higher brain function” Xar said to no one in particular. “Has everyone lost their mental facilities? We truly are a king among fools” 

 

Xar sighed and looked around, hoping there was any other route he could take. But there was none. If he went back, he would most likely encounter whatever security and brimstone that the group had barely dodged. But to go forward in this madness…

 

“It’s beyond reasoning.” Xar told himself as he took a step, now on the precipice of the abyss. Xar looked down, trying to calculate where the others may have fallen to, but that was impossible. All he could see below was darkness. 

 

Xar mused for a moment on an old saying the rodians took from the humans. If all of your friends jumped off a bridge…but then again, these people were not his friends. He had no friends. Well, maybe Krexel. Doubtfully, but maybe.

 

Xar crouched and leaped forward, springing himself as far as he could go. As he descended, recognisable heat signatures came into view. With a loud squelch, Xar landed feet first in raw sewage, splashing fecal matter, dead fish, and old food everywhere. 

 

“Gah, this is completely degrading!” Xar moaned and complained as he looked over his chassis. What was once a dark but lovely shade of green had now been mucked to a disgusting brown. 

 

“Meer!” Xar shouted, not seeing the nemodian yet. “You better give us the best oil bath and paint job you can afford, cause no amount of credits…” Xar stopped, realizing that the neimoidian had somehow already moved on. Up ahead, his benefactor had somehow scaled a wall to a fissure in the wall. No doubt this was where the lethane gas was coming from. 

 

Xar looked at the group around him, covered in sewage as well. “You better hurry up. As your only source of light, you don’t want us to get too far ahead. And we don’t slow down for lesser creatures like you.” 

 

With that, Xar moved towards the wall and began to climb. For a droid of his caliber, this was easy.  Once at the top, Xar got a good impression of what had happened. The corridor or tunnel or whatever was scorched. Loose rocks were everywhere. An explosion long ago. 

 

Xar smacked the wall once to test the integrity of the tunnel. Some of the rocks shook but it held firm. Still, it was nerve wracking at how close to a cave-in this place was. What’s more, the gas was actually visible here. Like a thin mist, Lethane traced the tunnel lightly, slowly emerging from further on. 

 

“This is completely asinine for someone like me.” Xar grumbled as he moved forward, not caring if the others were close behind or not. Up ahead he could see the nemodian making his own way. 

 

“Meer! When we offerred our help, we didn’t think you’d be doing suicidal commitments like that…”

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Morjanssik, like many cities that had undergone extensive firebombing in the galaxies’ sorry history, was a chaotic bed of destruction and despair. As low fires gutted apartment complexes, and bodies lay in huddled ashes in the streets, the Sith Naval Marines made their pay. It was through the scream of TIE engines and the distinctive diesel smell of phosphate explosives that cut through the fine filters of his helmet that Delta and his Darkhand commandos made landfall. 

 

Explosive decompression bolts blew the bulkheads off the three sides of the drop pods and in squads of four the command team took cover in the middle of a large pedestrian fareway. HUD GPS told them that they were in the city itself, but none of the surroundings looked particularly familiar from the short briefings they had received. So despite making landfall, they were still no closer to finding or killing any of the Jedi and Delta let his frustration expel itself in a growl. 

 

“Move, bounding towards grid…” 

 

His clear blue eyes looked across the map point that was constantly adjusting as satellite and ground data was moved and reformatted to modern, updated maps. But some was still not in focus, likely from the destroyed infrastructure in the area. Likely where the Jedi had been. 

 

“...One-three-one. Repeat One, Three, One.” The command team beside him, spread out in its company of twelve nodded their heads in unison then bounded for the next burnt out landskiff. This one, however once held a family, who now lay in piles of fine bone and ash in the still burning rear seats. Blacktorin, let out a small moan that echoed over the command interpersonal lines as she knelt in the remains of a crib. 

 

“Spasted garrison forces.”

 

Delta nodded as he continued to watch the mapping software update their location. 

 

“Territorials are KOS. Copy? A plague is one thing, but killing thousands over some Jedi they could have just called us in for? Spast em. We’ll show them how a real government works.” 

 

Or at least that’s what he hoped. And he almost got those hopes dashed right away as a pair of very scared Mon Calamari popped out a burned doorway and began to flee down the causeway in front of him. 12 rifles took aim and as a team they slowly lowered. Mother or Father with a young pre-teenager. Though it was always hard to tell with a species like the Mon Cal. Two national police, quarrans by the look of their tentacles came racing after them with stun batons.

 

This time however, there was no hesitation. A dozen well placed rounds snuffed their lives out before they could even see the Sith commandos beyond their quarry. The bodies looked as if they hit invisible trip wires as their momentum carried their corpses in puppet like confusion as they tumbled and skidded before pitching into the drainage ditch beside the causeway. They did not move again. 

 

“Get inside!” 

 

Delta’s voice boomed through down the causeway, causing the pair to stop in their tracks, their large salmon like eyes staring in speechless fear. 

 

“Mother! Get her inside now!”

 

She obeyed and the pair disappeared into another building’s doorway. Delta and his men moved on, eyes and blasters scanning building tops and side alley’s as they ran. They linked up with several more squads of the scattered Darkhand as they ran until they got into a heavily populated area, where the sick and refugees were clustered in front of makeshift barricades, manned by local police and territorial guard. He did not have to even think twice about the order, and when called out, the crowd parted like a wave. A wave that heralded a mass of concentrated fire from a TIE defender that screeched overhead with all the grace of a falling wampa. The barricades and those defending them melted under the withering fire and the Darkhand surged forward alongside the crowd. 

 

Finding one bright eyed Mon Cal who was walking calmly through the wreckage, Delta pulled her aside. 

 

“The Jedi ma’am, where are they?”

 

before she could speak her flippered hand pointed down. Towards the gratings that covered swer line. So they were to be headed towards the sewers.

 

Great


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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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Posted (edited)

Nasty, really, really, really, really nast-IS THAT A-no it's just more poop…  Yuck!

 

Excrement seeped through the long-coat and onto her body, chilling her and bringing sharp bumps to the surface of her crimson skin. Parts of her back stung where fresh cuts still lingered. And though infection was unlikely, the reminder was not welcome. Still, she and her ragtag compatriots were not in the best position, and waffling between what to do and when to do it was not an effective course right now. Through the overwhelming stench of feces and waste, there was a bouquet of other smells that bit at Sara’s nostrils. The Lethane smell was stronger down here, but it mingled with Methane and Carbon Dioxide. The Carbon Dioxide thread wasn’t flammable and was common on a number of planets. But Lethane and Methane were both notorious for their flammability; Lethane more so than Methane. 

 

It was a delicate moment that was covered in terrible outcomes. Isn’t that life though? Sometimes you have to crawl through the druk no matter how awful it is to get to the dim light at the end of the tunnel. Right? What am I, a motivational speaker now? What has this planet done to me?

 

The feelings of fear and disgust were strong near her as Leena retched within arms reach and the bigger squid-faced red alien lamented a fresh emotional wound. Oddly though, between the smells scorching her nostrils and the over-saturation of negative emotions, Sara’s faculties were starting to dissociate from her consciousness, allowing her to inwardly scream while moving and doing more practical things. It was a familiar coping mechanism. Pain was a reality she understood. It was a constant in her life since the earliest point she could remember. Being a refugee, you learn to adapt as best you can, or you die. Sure there are those refugees who feel vengeful and/or spiteful toward the crime lords that take advantage of them and then act on the their vengeance, but those refugees also died more often than not. You play the game, you clean the scrapes, you roll with the punches, and you move on; or you die. 

 

Sara scrambled in the sludge, clumsily attempting to right herself. She wasn’t a really good swimmer so she was very thankful that she could feel the bottom of the chamber with her feet. But it was a bitter affirmation. There were things in the slime; things she couldn’t fathom. Of course her subconscious was eager to fill in the gaps with a number of nightmarish creatures - most of them involving tentacles - but she quickly scrambled to push those horrific manifestations to the back of her mind, refusing to acknowledge every disgusting movement she felt beneath the surface of the sludge. She caught the thin light of the droid as it came tumbling down into the waste. And when it moved toward a large crack in the chamber, Sara grabbed at Leena’s slimy figure and attempted to drag the retching Mon Cal with her toward it. The Zeltron drew together what little adrenaline was left and hoped her inherent Zeltron-ness would assist in hauling the taller and heavier alien with her toward the opening. 

 

The droid passed by quickly, bleating about the Nemoidian that Sara didn't notice depart. She held little love for the clunky machine but that did put her in a bind. It meant Sara and the others were working with limited dark-vision; she needed to remember exactly where the fissure was. Cautiously, the Zeltron reached the shore of ‘poop lagoon’ as she’d taken to calling it and ran her hands up the wall in front of her until she felt the rough rocky grips that led to the fissure. With a moment of concentration, Sara intensified her pheromone production to help the other two find where she was. Then, with one hand stuck to the wall, she grabbed at the Mon Cal’s soaked robes and helped her the rest of the way onto the shore. 

 

“Alright,” Sara started loud enough for Leena and the red-squiddy alien to hear; if he cared. “There is a fissure over here that might lead further down. I can’t promise we’ll immediately come out of the gas or that it will be any better than where we are now. But it likely doesn’t have druk falling from the ceiling or a pool of it covering the floor and that makes it a lot better than here. But… And I can’t stress this enough. DO NOT activate your lightsabers in here. The gases in here are extremely flammable and we’ll all blow up if you do. Just don’t. I know how you Jedi like your sabers, just hold it a bit.” 

 

Sara chuckled a little to herself and began climbing the chamber wall. The grips were slipping beneath her fingers, but after a series of strangled grunts she managed to hoist herself into the cavern beyond. 

Edited by Scorpion

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Ro jolted awake to the sounds of explosions and blaster fire coming from above. He was uncertain how long he had passed out. But he could now hear the sounds of deprave Quarren fascists squealing like lecherous pigs in their native tongue. They were close. Slowly getting back to his feet, Ro approached Rose’s body. He was unsure how long he had been out but he felt notably better moving around. He was in no way close to 100%. But it was nice to feel a little better after all he had been through recently. At least, minus the headache he was getting from the smell of fish urine and feces that flowed through these tunnels.

 

Feeling for the twi’lek’s pulse, the former Watcher’s fears were quickly confirmed. There was no pulse. All his efforts had been for naught. In fact, she was probably already dead before he even dropped her down into the “safety” of this muck and mire.

 

Ro could feel his anger boiling over. On Coruscant, he had blamed the Alliance and Jedi for not being there to save everyone. On Chandrilla, he blamed the Jedi for only doing a half-baked job and leaving the refugees to fend for themselves. But on Mon Cal, it was the local authorities that were the true villains. Perhaps it was fitting that this was an Alliance planet. A theme was quickly developing.

 

Rummaging around Rose’s corpse, Ro found a few grenades strapped to the front side of her belt (fortuitous or she might have blown herself and those around her to bits during the bombing explosion). There was also the blaster pistol she had reholstered on her hip before shove Ro and Nia out of danger and the blaster rifle that had partially “melded into the flesh of her back.” Pulling at the rifle like plucking a piece of pepperoni from a sticky slice of cheesy pizza, the blaster rifle took bits of flesh with it as Ro dislodged it from her corpse.

 

Examining it, the flash of the explosion had eaten into her back quite brutally but the burst was too short to melt the metal that her blaster rifle was made of. At least, it definitely looked like it was still functional. At this point, he’d take his chances. Untying her from the ladder leading up to the surface, Ro retied his utility belt around his waste as he watched the body of the twi’lek slowly drift away. It would undoubtedly follow wherever this water was leading and topple down wherever these poop shoots led. Unceremoniously, the twi'lek would be forever to be lost as if she had never come here in the first place.

 

It was a sad end for someone with a good heart like her. She deserved better. This had become a recurring theme as of late. There were lots of people no longer in Ro's life that left this galaxy deserving better. And there were a lot of scum still breathing that deserved a lot worse.

 

You were right to fear, Nia. But I was right to warn you.

 

Removing his tatted and soiled Jedi tunic, he let it hit the water with a slash and begin to drift away. Ro then methodically climbed up the ladder to the manhole above him. He carefully and calmly strained to move the manhole aside. He attempted to do it quietly but in all honestly, with all the blaster fire and screaming going on, no one would have likely noticed even if he hadn’t. Peeking his head out ever so slightly, Ro surveyed his surroundings. 

 

The Imperial Legion?! What in the...

 

Ro paused for a moment. Deep down inside he hoped in his heart of hearts that the Jedi had realized that the Mon Cal crazies had shot down their Jedi transport full of younglings and that they had, for once, acted to render justice against the tyrants of this planet that had clearly been allowed to treat this place like their own xenophobic fishbowl. But no. It wasn’t the Jedi. It wasn’t the Galactic Alliance. It was the Imps.

 

The Imps are here to save the day?! You know what. Screw it...

 

Pulling one of the Rose’s frag grenades from off his belt, Ro examined the positioning of the local law enforcement. With the Imps advancing on them, a nice little collection of officers had found themselves pinned within the rumble of the blast zone and some more had taken cover just outside of the blast zone. Ro himself was on the edge of the blast zone at this point. But his positioning had turned out to be rather fortuitous. Ro suddenly found himself behind enemy lines. Of course, the real poetic beauty of it all was that these serial killing Quarren terrorists were so occupied with the Imps that they surely had no idea that they were about to be flanked.

 

Well, Nia. I’m glad I didn’t promise you not to harm anyone else... because then I’d have had to lie to you.

 

Tossing the grenade into the middle of the largest group of Quarrens, Ro quickly pulled himself up and activated the personal shield Rose had given him when all the initial chaos had started. It felt like a lifetime ago now. But all the same, the Quarrens were caught completely by surprise by Ro's surprise present. A few of them screamed and one or two even caught sight of Ro’s smirk before their bodies burst into a mixture of fire and bloody mist.

 

That one's for Nia.

 

Ro raise the blaster rifle as he back peddled towards the backside of the nearby building to his right. He smirked again as he picked off a few more Quarrens before they could figure out that they had enemies firing at them from all sides. Behind the corner, Ro found a large industrial size garbage receptacle. Straining and grunting a bit, he swung it outwards, creating an almost “T” like formation with the building as the top of the said “T”. Having the receptacle positioned like that would give him cover if anyone decided to approach him from behind but it also significantly hampered any plans for retreat. 

 

He was fine with that, however. He was always retreating. He had lost everyone and everything retreating. It was time for something new. It was time to hold someone accountable. And it was time for the bad people to die so they couldn’t kill anybody for the good people. And as far as he was concerned, the only bad people had tentacles for faces.

 

Posting up against the wall, he peeked around the corner and picked off another Quarren while its friends frantically scrambled to find better cover. They had to know it was helpless by now. He had ruined their best positions of cover and the Imps would surely overwhelm that in no time. Especially if the Quarrens still had to worry about Ro shooting them in the back.

 

Fleetingly, Ro almost felt sorry for the Quarrens. Some of them were probably "good people." Some of them were just following orders. Some of them were maybe even innocent. But they lost their opportunity for Ro to treat them on a case by case basis when them and their bosses decided to indiscriminately murder a warehouse and several streets full of innocent refugees. They could all go and burn in whatever fishy afterlife those vile creatures believed in for all he cared.

___

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The stench that surrounded Mjan would have been almost unable to bear had this not been his first sewer or given that he was nearly dead to the world around him, unaffected even by the globs of fecal matter and cortorsis run off that managed to splat themselves upon his flight suit as he stood there nearly chest deep in the muck with each adventurer that chose to follow. Instead he just stood there, like the living dead laying in wait within the caverns darkness, his gaze fixated on nothingness and yet everything.

 

The thing about staring into the darkness of no light was that eventually things had a way of staring back. Shapes and shadows moved, his hearing heightened by the lack of his sight adjusting to the noise around him that fell upon his absent hearing. Instead his mind drifted upon the currents of his past, remembering memories of his interactions with both Nia and Rose. He chuckled in silence to some, and others nearly sent his soul into the hereafter with pain, but through it all, in wept in silence, his heart shattered and broken. And as the moments past until the droid sent a wave of the gunk into his opened mouth, it only ached worse. It was a pain he had never known before, and it felt like his entire form wanted to fall to pieces from the pressure of being pulled down.

 

Spitting out the sewage and cortosis run off out, the taste of it setting his tongue afire with something worse than smell and his gagging reflex reacting despite his inability to react at all, his mind came back to reality, the pull of something present yanking at his mind even in despair, like a slap that simply added insult to injury. Shifting his vision toward the droid's own gaze, watching the others dredge themselves toward what Sara described as a fissure in the cavern walls, Mjan obliged, and followed suite. In his hour of own darkness, Mjan could feel another feeding upon his own. It felt ancient, demonic, almost as if it enjoy his misery and fed upon his grief, and in that moment, Mjan's own darkness began to boil.

 

As he lifted himself over the fissure's ledge, the last to climb atop, the combination of the gases were almost incapacitating. With each breath, it felt like his throat and lungs were going to boil away, causing the young Tsis to reach into the rear of his flight suit after unzipping it and pull out its rebreather, latching it into place. Grabbing Nia and Rose's own from his satchel, both covered in the gunk they had been submerged in, he looked toward Leena and Sara as he offered them. Despite the pain he felt, despite the anger swelling within him, he knew they needed them more than their owners. 

 

Turning to follow the group, there was one minor problem that Mjan had begun to slowly notice since he began to feel the presence feed upon his misery... his grasp upon the Force was beginning to linger and lose touch.


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Sheog the Mad said:
oof Sheog

Is actually a tribe of autistic ewoks in a costume

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Deep within the belly of the planet, connected only to the outside world via an abandoned shaft within which bodies of the burned and dead lay rotting, linked through a sentient-made waste disposal system that had long since needed an overall, a dark lumbering voice began to rumble. It was slow and but a whisper, but as it progressed, it grew in speed and crescendo.

 

“Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

əvvəllər gəzənlər

yenidən gəzmək və üzmək

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

həyat həyatı bilən

yenidən həyatı tanımaq

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

kənardan qaranlıqdan

ədalətli mükafatınıza çatmadan əvvəl

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

cığır boyunca geri dönüş

növbəni dayandırın və yenə qayıdın

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

qadağan olsa da, gələ bilərsiniz

Səni geri çağırdım

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

təbii yüksəlişin üstündədir

yaradılışın məhv edilməsinə yol verilmir

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

dənizlərdən və pirlardan

göydən və alovdan

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

qurbangaha bir daha yaxınlaşın

son hədiyyəni götür

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

qorxu tutuşunu itirdi

hamınızın qorxusunuz

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

ölümünüzdən bir daha imtina edin

itirmək istəmədiyin şeydən yapış,

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

Yenidən sənə ehtiyacım var

xidmətləriniz mükafatlandırılacaqdır

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

bu zaman dayandı

vaxtı yenidən məğlub etməyə çağırılır

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

.........”

 

And the chanting continued on and on.

 

__________________
 

Just as Leena finished emptying her stomach into the goo and ooze that encircled them, a fresh wave of revulsion in the form of the wise-cracking murder droid crashed into and over her. Had she anything left in her stomach, the Jedi-in-training would have surely added its contents to the sewer line.

 

The one positive of it all was that at least the droid brought light with it. Before she could even give voice to the thought the, the inorganic being was off chasing after the supposedly blind goblinoid with a dark soul. “Well then . . .” was all she could muster before she started to heave again. Thankfully, Leena felt herself, being drug forward through the filth by her Zeltron companion. It would have been unnerving, and frankly fear-inducing, had Xar’s light not illuminated the sewage clad woman momentarily. As it was, Leena was glad to have a friend.

 

Slowly Leena picked herself up and made her way towards the uneven wall, looking back towards Mjan, or more accurately where she heard Mjan sloshing through the muck. She could faintly feel him on the force. The senior Jedi was not in a good way, but there was little she could do here and now. They had to survive. The whole place seemed to emanate with some subtle dark side presence that made her uncomfortable. It could have been the descent of the Sith above, it could be what lay below, It could be that Nemodian businessman, or it clumd be something else. Leena had no way of knowing or telling. She did not even know most of it at all.

 

Rolling over the top of the lip into the mine, Leena’s clothes sloshed against the damp cool stone. “Yuck.” She mumbled. It was all she could muster in the moment. The air was thick and it hurt to breathe. She was coated in stuff she did not even want to think about. Her stomach was empty and ached.

 

Lying there for a moment, Leena gracious accepted the offer of the rebreather. “Thank you Master Jedi.” she smiled, grabbing at Mjan’s forearm with a squish of glop as she pushed a reassuring twinkle of light-sided energy along their physical connection in an invisible sign of encouragement. It was all she could muster.

 

She would have liked to have lay there and regain her strength, but the droid and their sole light source was off again, “So inconsiderate,” she pulled herself to her feet and slipped out of her Jedi robe. It landed on the ground behind her with a wet sickly slap leaving the Jedi clad in her equally filthy skin tight sleeveless tunic and pants.

 

With the rebreather in place, Leena looked to Sara in the quickly fading light and made a show of shoving both lightsaber hilts into her waistband. She too had no intention of being incinerated in their damp decidedly flammable surroundings.
 

The going wasn't easy, dislodged boulders covered in the thinest layers of slick moisture made the trek treacherous and more than once the Jedi Healer fell and scraped her elbow, knee, or shin on the uneven surfaces. Still she pressed onwards, only muttering incoherently a few times, after Xar, Nok, and the light.

 

Eventually she caught up with them where they seemed to have paused, Nok having ducked into a clearly manmade room carved from the stone. With Xar still in the hallway, Leena could not see anything inside; but as she tried to follow Nok in her toe found the broken fusion lantern on the floor. She stopped, her eyes staring into the inky blackness. Inside the room lay an overturned table and several chairs, a hodgepodge of maps and a miner’s helmet. In the corner, slumped in a chair was a clearly deceased and crisply singed Quarren. His or her, it was hard to tell, tentacles had all burned off. What was left of the being’s face twisted in a knot of pain and  their eyes stared sightlessly in horror out into the dark.

 

At least the air in the break room of sorts was purer, the Lethane fumes having carried upwards along the steep, slick, boulder-littered tunnel. It only got thicker the deeper they went. The going would only get more treacherous.

 

There in the dark, silence had reigned as king and had been for who-knew-how-long; interrupted only by the distant dripping of water from off in the dark yawning maw of the tunnels. That was, until, faint, as if a whisper, echoing along the walls along the tunnel came a voice. It was small enough now that if one were not listening, it might escape notice. 
 

“bir dəfə tərk etdiyiniz qabığa qayıdın

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

qaranlıq iradənin damarlarınızdakı qan

olmasına icazə verin

aclığın sənə rəhbərlik etsin

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

çağrışımı dinləməyin vaxtı çatdı

zaman-zaman əbədi

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

Ağanınız bədəninizi tələb edir

ağlınız yalnız sizin olacaq

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

alındığını iddia edin

səni lağa qoyanların qisasını al

Uşaqlarımın yanıma gəlin,

müqəddəs əhdi dadın

zənginizi yerinə yetirin

Övladlarımın yanına GƏLİN,

GƏLƏCƏYİN VƏ ƏYLƏNƏCƏK . . .”

 

The voice grew until it’s call rattled the very walls. Dark tendrils of invisible evil seemingly creeping forth. It did not stop, but just grew and grew, the unknown tongue chanting with the rhythm of the ages.  

 

Leena grabbed at Nok’s slimy robes trying to pull him close, the darkness that seemed to echo about them dwarfing what she felt radiating from the man. “Whatever darkness you carry, this is beyond you. Who are you and what are you doing? Can’t you feel it calling?”

 

________________
 

Far above the battle waged on. Where bodies fell they lie twitching on the ground. The fight for Dac was in full swing. A planet that had known the ravages of the Sith, the Empire, and darkness, who had stood against oppression and tyranny, would not go down without a fight. Wings of fighter craft mounted their responses and from the seas themselves, technological terrors built to blend with and accent the natural watery beauty of the world surfaces and unleashed their salvos at the approaching waves of Sith oppression.

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On 5/2/2020 at 6:26 PM, Xar said:

“Meer! When we offerred our help, we didn’t think you’d be doing suicidal commitments like that…”

 

Nok wanted to shout something back about his views on hazard pay, but decided to just ignore the comment. Soaked in sewage, trapped in a cave on an ocean planet with a bunch of lightsaber wielding Jedi, and running towards some...thing, he didn't trust himself to be civilized. So long as the droid did his job for as long as possible it didn't matter if he complained.

 

Besides, if he leaves early, I don't have to pay him.

 

On 5/4/2020 at 8:42 PM, Leena Kil said:

Leena grabbed at Nok’s slimy robes trying to pull him close, the darkness that seemed to echo about them dwarfing what she felt radiating from the man. “Whatever darkness you carry, this is beyond you. Who are you and what are you doing? Can’t you feel it calling?”

Nok wrenched away.

 

"GET OFF ME YOU-" Nok stopped him himself and grimaced. This place, that presence...he couldn't trust himself.

 

I...won't retreat.

 

He modulated his voice to something more polite. "Yes, I feel it. As for who I am and what I'm doing, would you believe anything I told you?"

 

Those words, they aren't old Sith.

 

"I'm not here to hurt anyone. And before you ask, I'm not a Sith. I'm just an...interested amateur." He ran his lie through his head as he talked, until he thought it had enough truth to sound convincing enough to buy. "Look, I found out I was...like you. Sensitive. It's even how I see now. When I found out, I got my hands on every bit of Sith and Jedi lore I could find, but it wasn't enough. The Sith, I mean the living ones, were the only option that had answers. I mean, you Jedi are a bit hard to find and have traditionally...not gotten on well with neimoidian culture. But in any case, I was an idiot, a businessman who thought money and position would protect me from those monsters." He tightened his jaw for effect. "Don't believe whatever the news has been saying, those animals are sadistic killers, nothing more.  Before I knew it, I was drafted or kidnapped or something into serving a warrior darth and was off to the battle of Kuat. Fortunately for me, my new master disappeared in the fighting after giving me just enough of a start in the Force to see once I got blinded." Nok covered his face with his palm. "I wasn't even in the actual battle. It was some animal that got me, a snake I think, though it happened fast and I don't remember much about it. I got off-planet, but the Sith Empire has me in their records, and I'm not anxious to get caught again. More than that, I need answers. I've been having dreams, the same vision over and over and over and it's terrifying me!" Nok shuddered, then collected himself. "Anyway, nothing smooths things over like an old-fashioned bribe. I've found a relatively reasonable Sith that I think I can deal with, but he'll only deal with me if I prove myself by bringing him something. I didn't even know what I was coming here for, just that I'd find something. And I'm willing to bet THAThe said waving his hand at the darkness "has something to do with it. I'm not leaving. I'm not going to go the rest of my life in terror every night, afraid I'm going to die in...that I'm going to die in pain."

 

He sighed. "There. That's my story. I know it's probably foolish, but I don't have any other options. And if the Sith can't give me answers...then maybe something down here will. But I am not dying on anyone's terms but mine."

 

Not a bad try. If I'd had the chance to rehearse it, I could have really emphasized some of those emotional points, but that was still good for an off-the-top.

 

Besides, I don't have to convince her it's true. I just have to make her doubt. Selfless person like her...well, better not to count on anything down here, but I seriously doubt she'll try to kill me now.

Edited by Nok Morliss

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Leena let go of the Neimodian’s robes and shook her head, “That will not give you rest. The Sith are consumed by their desires. They want what every other being seeks, freedom. Freedom through strength and power though is not real freedom. Whatever trinket you are after won’t bring you peace. It will only hurt others down the road and pull you deeper into their snare. Before you know it,” Leena reached out and grabbed Nok’s wrist, “BAM! You are caught in their snare. A snare far worse than any fecal filled cesspool we might have already been caught up in. There goes any freedom you already have. Whatever that voice heralds is beyond what you or I or anyone here, even your supposedly newfound metallic bodyguard can probably handle.” Leena let go of the Nemodian’s wrist and turned to walk out of the room, looking back over her shoulder in the dim light. “I doubt that knife you have up your sleeve will do any good.“


Stopping at the doorway beside her Zeltron companion, Leena added, “But right now it doesn’t look like we have any other way to go. Looks like you’ll get your wish for now. Maybe if you change your mind, and we all get out alive, I’d be happy to take you back to THE Jedi Temple and take a look at your eyes; maybe even soothe those nightmares of yours.”

 

The young Jedi was not sure what the ‘businessman’ was playing at, but he was slimy, she could feel it. She didn’t even need to reach out on the waves of the force, there was too much else going on there right now. The story he was trying to feed her did not stand to reason.

-Not a Sith? But he had had a master, a darth. Maybe he still did . . . 
- -A master who taught him to see without his eyes. . . 

- - - taught him in the same battle he vanished in, ‘fortunately.’ . . . 

- - - The same battle the Nemodian was attacked by some wild animal in . . . 
- - - - On Kuat . . . The world was so terraformed they didn’t even have blood-sucking insects flying around. 

-Can’t find the Jedi? Short of recruiting posters, their locations are not exactly a secret, especially to someone with the funds to have others seek them out. 

 

Those were only the things that jumped out at her in the murky mire they now found themselves in. So she had spoken loud enough that the others could hear the last bit and the part about the knife she felt hidden. 
 

She was not happy about it, but they had to keep going down for now. Didn’t they?

 

Outside the room, the chanting cold voice continued, each best reverberating louder and louder off the tunnel walls. With each syllable the darkness continued to grow, pouring forth from the unknown below, now opened to the world again; for the first time in how many years? centuries?

 

“He has got a blade,” Leena whispered to Sara as she stepped back into the hallway and looked both ways before eyeballing Xar. “You might be our best bet to get out of here master droid. Do you have any sort of sonic or flame based weaponry?”

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The sound of it was expressively deafening. The full tilt of force that the vessel had crashed with, completely broadsided the patrolmen in their attempt at vehicular escape. The steep impact sucked the wind from their throats, and froze their faces in a shock that paralyzed them with fear. It was a sudden violence so unbridled, that it ravaged the metal framework of the hover-bus, irreparably buckling the transport and layering it in the blood and bones of those that rode within.  There were sickly screams; this was not for the faint of heart. The long screech of broken and brassy steel, twisting against the road, was far worse than dragging nails across a dry chalk-board. Those that heard it, screwed their faces in displeasure, covering their ears from the horrifying sound. 

 

A monster of a creature heaved himself from the braised innards of the drop shell, shoving thick electrical cables aside and rising to meet the carnal smell of petrichor in the air. Morjanssik and its earth would be washed before dusk, a telling omen that meant more than just rainwater. Of note was how his jawline was sheathed in a chilling metal, bearing the keen measure of white fangs engrafted into its side. These were teeth torn from the mandibular bone of the White Wolf, skillfully handcrafted into a demon half-mask, or some would say. The natural exuberance of his dark skin played contrast to how it remained untainted by time and rot, covered by a wild wolfish black mane. He emerged slowly, wearing the kit of an ancient Sith God, accentuated by a lamellar warskirt flinching like thick blades of shadows in the wind. Gloomy, narrow eyes brooded within an imperiously beardless face, bearing vestiges of beauty underneath a depository of brutality.

 

Masked lips, long eyelashes, and eyes somehow without a trace of color stared outwardly. They were tempestuous by nature, eyes painted in blind albinism. The rest of the detailings were soft scars and scowls lined with regal bone structure. He wore plates of armor so dark, that the natural light around him seemed only to serve and feed the oily obsidian wyrmsteel. His all whites, now darkened with a clouded grey mixture at the sight of the rallying opposition. The force of him was so raw and so inevitably uncalculating, that he seemed as pure as natural lightning. Undimmed by compromise and untamed by society, even the best of them felt here would feel trapped, so small when they suddenly  realized the lunacy in that creatures like him truly existed. The gathering crowd slowed before him as if facing down a thunderhead, small currents of electricity swimming in and out of naked sight across his forearms. The primal half-mask suited to his face, looked chiseled from runic images of a wild beast cloaked in symbolisms of spiders, fangs and magnetism. The demon mask clicked autonomously before a second plate shot up to cover the unfamiliar face of the Dark Lord, forming into a completed helm.

 

“Status?”

 

 “...Execution diameter confirmed, these people are disease-stricken. We approximate a safe distance of 1.8 meters from all sentient life. Reconcile ground formations. Quarantine our wounded, advised to eradicate all hostiles." A low voice rumbled through his communications unit.

 

The Mon Cal Defense Forces were a little more equipped than initial intelligence suggested with almost a hundred foot soldiers armed with a variety of military-grade blasters and anti-armor weapons slowly advancing on their positions. Three emplacement weapon crews installed themselves into a cover-fire position, readying to hose down the Imperial positions. Three archaic T2-B tanks churned around the battlefield on repulsorlifts, hoping to make use of their shields and light cannons to ensure that their small infantry could cross open patches of terrain safely. Their hope was dwindling fast as they watched what had crawled from that drop-shell. More of the Sith Empire arrived by the second, hoarding the skies and occupying the land. Additionally, several T4-B tanks and old walkers with worn rebel insignia painted onto its hull, were reported as pinned down by superior armor and firepower with the Imperial Offense slowly closing in on them with their advanced treads and armored feet. Exodus absorbed the atmosphere once more before the rain, this time with his mind far-reaching. And to his surprise, there was a voice, whispering a language unfamiliar.


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“Good for him, then he can defend himself. As for our capabilities, you have your weapon, so we are sure if you need to, you can defend yourself nurse” Xar shot at the fishy being. “Besides, who said we are leading you to safety? We are being paid to accompany him. If we do find an exit for you to use, it will because we graced you with our findings.”  

 

Xar was a bit annoyed at several things. He was covered in sewage, he was helping borderline insane lessers, most who did not appreciate his greatness, and he had no idea where he was. He didn’t like this situation. Worse, he didn’t like admitting he was in the same boat as everyone else.

 

“Alright, listen to  all of you…” Xar started, looking at the measly group. “Since we are your only source of light and direction at this point, we are stuck with you. So make yourselves useful to Xar. You two…” 

 

Xar pointed towards the red skinned being and the nurse, both who had drawn their weapons in the warehouse far above. “Both of you cover our back. If a cave-in or something starts, let us know immediately. We know you have weapons, but we still haven’t found the source of the gas, so don’t ignite those blasted things at your hips.”

 

“Mr. Meer” Xar said, turning to his charge. “You will keep close behind us and not jump like some suicidal idiot. We want our pay. And finally, you...” 

 

Xar looked at the Zeltron, whom he glared at disapprovingly. This one had a chance to try to prove herself smarter than the rest, but she failed that opportunity. “You stay in the middle. You Zeltrons are  good at talking and communicating, so you will make sure that whatever those two see and find, if they can see anything, it will be communicated to us. If there is a cave-in, there better be a scream. If someone wanders off, there better be a call for a halt. And if we need your equipment again, we want you close enough for us to call you up.”

 

Honestly, the whole group was a failure overall. The Nemodian was an obvious liar, the Zeltron had something messed up in her head, the Mon Cal was clumsy and forgetful and unobservant, and the other red skinned being was too quick to draw weapons on a bunch of ignorant people. By deduction, the choice for leadership was clear. 

 

And Xar knew that to get respect, he had to demand it. 

 

 “Does everyone understand us? Good. Now let's get going.“

 

And with that, Xar started making his way towards the closest passage, going deeper. He acted as if he didn’t notice the impossible-to-not-notice voice, but he did. He heard the words, but he didn’t feel the dread that the others may have felt. The words were strange. Guttural, but not quite. It was odd, but for Xar it was life, and thus a possible way out. 

 

Making his way into the tunnels, Xar walked slower now. These mines, as he deduced them, were terribly old. The walls were worn smooth with age and the gently flow of water leaking from somewhere. He stopped at one point and scraped a claw over the wall, pulling a few pebbles of a shiny substance off, intermixed with the water. 

 

“Hmmm…” Xar studied it, then handed it back to the Nemoidian and slowly moved on. “Residue. From whatever was being mined here. Is this what you are hoping to find?” 

 

Xar glanced back at the group, wondering if this was truly worth it. They should have been going up to find a way out, but the Nemoidian wanted to find the source of the voice, and this was the way to go. Deeper and deeper. Eventually he came to a chasm that was like a valley, with a narrow stone bridge.

 

Below, the darkness consumed whatever bottom there was. Above, more blackness, though small droplets fell from somewhere. Rusted coils, broken parts, and damaged beyond repair mining equipment were strewn about on the narrow rocky bridge. One side of the bridge connected from the opening Xar and the group were on. The other side  one was feet forward and twenty feet down, leading into more darkness. A terrible downward slant if Xar ever saw one. 

 

Xar sighed and thought for a moment. This area may have once been an entrance for mining equipment from above. Or it may have just been a place with a vein of whatever material was being mined here. But judging by the equipment, that was long, long ago. Besides, there was no way the group could climb up. So the group needed to move forward. 

 

“Oh what a life we lead…” Xar sarcastically mused to himself. Krexel and Co’bo were definitely taking the next mission into the quarantined city.  Slowly, Xar made his way across and looked back, giving the others the use of his light to navigate the stony, messy bridge. 

 

“One at a time! No sense killing yourselves all at once!” 

Edited by Xar

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Leena's powers of persuasion were lost upon Mjan, his presence within the force growing voided and empty, like a black hole in the depths of space, replaced by a hunger to fill its emptiness. But he smiled in return, nonetheless, and began to follow, using his cylindrical stave as a means to move about in the dark. It wasn't his first time fumbling around in the dark, but unlike last time, he had grown smarter, relying on his other senses to atone for what he lacked in sight within the pitch black.

 

With each step he took, he waved the metallic tip back and forth a few centimeters above the floor in his path, moving around anything it touched with a subtle clink until he drew close enough to see with his own sight what the droid illuminated. Shifting his gaze about, he felt an uneasy settle upon him, especially after his gaze fell upon the deceased Quarren. Stepping closer to get a better view, or as best as one could get in the dimly lit room, a voice whispered from below.

 

Like the spirits of old tales, the annunciation of death foretold, it started afar as a whisper before it rushed forth to a booming overtone, causing the loose rocks and tunnel behind them to rumble. Out of instinct, Mjan settled in a defensive form, waiting for an attack. And yet nothing came, only the chanting of an unknown tongue lost to the ages of Dac and beyond. Relaxing, but remaining alert, Mjan continued his look around, even inspecting the Quarren's corpse. 

 

"Something dark happened here, and not recently." Mjan spoke for the first time in awhile, his finger tracing a considerable amount of dust from the overturned furniture. "If I was a betting man, given this dyslexic chanting and the poor sod there..." Mjan pointed toward the Quarren corpse. "I'd say whatever lies below has something to do with above."

 

Of course, Mjan couldn't prove it, nor could he see any signs of evidence to back his theory. But he knew darkness. He knew the consequences of it. And he knew what his people had done with it for thousands of millennia. His gaze shifted to Nox briefly. "Nothing good ever comes from Darkness." With that being said, his gaze continues to shift briefly to the droid. "And Darkness consumes all who walk willingly into it, so yeah, I've got your six."

 

As Nox and Xar began the trek farther in, Mjan looked to Leena and briefly to Sara. The deeper they got, the more he felt the pull of the hunger below. But he wasn't sure why. In truth, it worried him, especially considering that he was beginning to notice that it was all he was able to feel, the Force almost completely untouchable by him. And within him, a separate hunger was beginning to grow, a hunger to fill the void and pain he felt. Whatever laid below was powerful, and it was feeding on misery. And in return, something within Mjan was beginning to change. And because of this, there was fear evident in his gaze at the two.

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Sheog the Mad said:
oof Sheog

Is actually a tribe of autistic ewoks in a costume

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An old aquifer maybe? But the murky liquid that barely reflected the light coming from his underslung glowrod told him the real truth. The Jedi in classic form, had gone through sewage to escape from even confronting the Sith. If it had not been for his close interaction with Jaina Jade, he would have begun to question if they even existed at this point. Or if he was just chasing pale ghosts. 

 

“Command fall in, make sure your armour is sealed.” He looked out down the distant sloshing tunnels. “No open flames. Fire only upon target acquisition with enough units to overwhelm Jedi defense.” He took the first step, and sinking up to his waist in the murk, he grinned. Thankful yet again for the issued helmets they all wore. And behind him, as the lights from each glow rod was extinguished, the command unit for darkhand, alongside a detachment of Charlie company from the second infantry battalion moved forward. A long line of seventy-odd marines, wading through the murk in a ghost hunt, for a bunch of untrained Jedi. 

 

At least they could sanisteam their armour. 

 

As Landgraf and Blacktorin moved beside him so that they could all easily cover the large, expanse of tunnels, he let his HUD flicker through its filters. NOD returned very little other than a low green glow, and thermal optics did little better, being that the sewage was at about body temperature. He flicked it again to the IR spectrum and clicked his rifle’s glow rod to infrared and shouldered it. It worked ok, other than the static reflections that passed beside as the IR was scattered by adverse pockets of methane. He grimaced at the thought of Jedi waiting right around the corner, but he kept the rifle up. 


Ca’Aran

 

Now why was she here? Sharp blue eyes reflected from one of the pockets of gas and Delta almost unloaded the rifle at it. But with a blink they were gone. He checked his suit seals, fearing that he might have been exposed to mind altering gaseous fumes but found no cracks. 

 

Landgraf yelped and looked around, her rifle tracing an unseen line of infrared light on the ceiling as she also checked her suit's seals. 

 

“Status?” 

 

But those eyes were there staring at him again. 

 

“I’m hearing voices, commander, its really creepy like.”

 

Ah. He popped open the protective cover for his arm mounted datapad and clicked her face on the sheet that was displayed for his officer corps. He file flashed up in black and green on the small screen. But it his instincts were proven right on the second scroll through her information. She was Force Sensitive. He snapped the cover shut and looked back at her. “Keep your helmet on Landgraf, whatever the Jedi are doing down here, we are getting close.” She hunkered down next to an outcropping, and Delta moved to cover her. As did Blacktorin, who pulled herself up onto the outcropping itself and held out a hand to him. He took it and pulled himself up onto the duracrete partition. A tunnel of some kind perhaps? He kept his rifle towards the unknown as he adjusted his comm. He triggered his SCI, and after an excruciating minute of encryption the cool voice of the Devilfish breathed into his ear, broken by static. 

 

“Go for Darkhand Intel.” 

 

“Information, pin location, there is an apparition of some type in the tunnels down here. Let the Dark Lord know that we are close to something. I dont think it's the Jedi, but we may have found something better. Something uh...” He searched for the correct phrase. “...Darkside oriented? A place where the force is strong, it's effecting a lot of my men.” He would certainly not say it was effecting him. He couldn't. It would be seen as weakness. And out of all the traits a commander could have, weakness was not one. 

 

“Intel copies.” 

 

And with that the line cut. Delta took a long breath of filtered air and was hit again by a distant voice. The voice whose laughter sounded like a waterfall of joy and he could feel a tingle of painful memory move up his spine.  He took another breath and waved his hand to tell his men to move forward but when he stepped forward his step came down on something soft. He looked down, then pulled at it. Holding it up in the offered light of a glowrod.

 

A jedi robe?

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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On 5/9/2020 at 4:33 PM, Xar said:

“Hmmm…” Xar studied it, then handed it back to the Nemoidian and slowly moved on. “Residue. From whatever was being mined here. Is this what you are hoping to find?” 

"Cortosis. No, but valuable," Nok replied, a note of disinterest in his voice. He wasn't here for rocks, but if it kept the others occupied, then they were welcome to it.

 

At the bridge, he grimaced. His ache in his arm was starting to fade, and with it his vision. He stepped out onto the length of stone without waiting and shuffled across.

 

The droid proved its safe, and there's no sense in separating from the one heavily armed thing in this cavern protecting me.

 

He tamped down on his emotions, forcing himself to stay calm. That voice was worming its way inside, but it didn't sound hostile. More like...a call?

 

Is anyone there?

 

 

He cringed after thinking the question, half expecting to hear his own voice mocking him again.


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The city was devolving into chaos. Already taxed, the local defense forces were easily overwhelmed by the unprepared for invading force. Their only saving grace the timely arrival of planetary defense forces. Even as the Mon Cal world was known for the production of their unique yet powerful space faring warships and luxury craft, a lesser known, yet even more potent production area for the aquatic world came in the form of true aquatic naval vessels and forces. There, the Mon Calamari and Quarren were in their element. So even as soldiers, aircraft, and spacecraft moved to engage the attacking Sith onslaught, the gargantuan Mon Cal Navy maneuvered into place. Soon powerful salvos filled the air as missiles erupted from beneath the calm surface of the sea. Anything that was not directly endangering to civilians was a fair target. If all else failed, the city could be sunk, her foundations destabilized by a plethora of submarine based weaponry. Cities could be rebuilt, they had done it before. All that they needed to do was ensure that the people were safe.

 

Along the shorelines and docks of the city, smaller quicker craft had approached in attempts to evacuate any citizenry they could, mostly under the watch of MWC-45c repeat cannon fire; each ship being mounted with one or more to try and dissuade any invaders from getting to close.


Of course, all this was lost on any adventurers below without radio access topside; even then, that was spotty at best, the ionized cortosis veins playing havoc on transmissions.

_______________
 

None of that mattered though to the presence deep within the mines and caves. It had been trapped for far too long and had upon its accidental release began to sow the seeds that were now coming to bear. The chanting grew louder and louder until it was near deafening as it reverberated off the walls and chasms of the mines, caverns, and sewers. Had the city streets above been quiet, it was quite possible that an individual out for a walk may have been able to hear the call.

 

Deep within the ancient forgotten lair, dim lights began to flicker, powered by the chaos and deep dark aura of the force, ((more description to come when adventurers get there)) and voice continued to boom its dark melodic chants.

 

_______________
 

Leena simply rolled her eyes at the droid. The pounding voice was starting to wear at her already taxed mind and she was hoping that they could work together. “Should have known better than to try to ask a machine to care about anyone but their programming.” She muttered to herself as she fell in line with the group. She was going to be a team player, in spite of what the others might want. The fact that the darkness was pressing in from all sides and the Nemoidian had flat out ignored her did not sit well either.

 

Shooting a side glance at Mjan, Leena paused to place a hand on his arm. “May the force me with you master.”

 

Trudging along, Leena tried to focus on not tripping over the uneven boulder strewn step decent, relying on the meager light from the droid ahead and the force to keep her from tumbling face first into the others.  
 

Leena didn’t know much about the cortosis the others had whispered about, except that it supposedly wreaked havoc on lightsabers. It didn’t concern her much though; what concerned her more was the sudden massive chasm spanning before them, a sinkhole into a underground cavern.  Undoubtedly there was water somewhere below; but it was dark and deep enough the yawning abyss could have very well opened into the pits of the underworld for what anyone could tell. Even the droid’s light did not reach the bottom.

 

“Oh. Now he cares” Leena grumbles sarcastically as Xar gave his instructions for the thin expanse of stone that reached out into the darkness across the chasm. “Watch this,” she smiled to Sara, the smile accentuating the tired lines of wear and grime on her face.

 

Reaching within to grasp at the candle of light that she carried in the force and then expanding from there in a wave of purity, Leena silently called on the force as she bent her knees and tensed her legs. Calling the force back towards her, she leapt; propelled upwards and forwards on a tidal surge of invisible energy. Flipping forward through the air, Leena twisted and landed with a crack of boot on stone on the far side of the chasm. Looking at the droid and Nemodian behind him she smiled and raised her eyebrows sarcastically, “One at a time was it?”

 

Leena stood waiting and watching for the others before linking arms with her Zeltron companion and setting forth deeper into the mineshaft. As they progressed, the going got slicker with moisture, the path more uneven as chunks of stone seemed to have fallen from the walls and ceiling and littered the abandoned pathway. The walls were all coated in a thick black slime, ash and soot that had mixed with the condensation. Every so often, they would stumble across  a charred and mangled body, unrecognizable from the flames and following moisture that had set to work on them. One thing was clear, an explosion had rocked the entire tunnel and nearly obliterated anyone that got in it’s way. The cortosis here was thicker, the lethane it had given off accelerating and magnifying the past inferno. Still now, the air was choked with it.

 

___________
 

As the group descended, the temperature continued to drop and the dark presence grew in strength and magnitude. Suddenly, the voice stopped and the tunnels were bathed in silence; save for the dripping of water in the darkness.  

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    Life had changed a great deal for T’ali’au over the last year, and yet the core of what she was doing was what she had always done. Protecting people, bringing joy and harmony, giving thanks to the life giving oceans. She was in a different ocean now, on a different world, but she still felt Loloto all around her. She had come to Dac as an ambassador for her people on Scarif, in the hope that Mon Calamari engineers could stop the poisoning of her world, or maybe even reverse some of the damage. But now Dac was being poisoned, and if T’ali’au could do anything to stop it, she would. Loloto was guiding her now, towards a darkness that might be the source of the infection. The inky depths of the waters beckoned coldmind, but she could not afford to be sluggish and tired right now, so she reached out to the ocean mother for warmth. Phantasmal currents of heat moved through her and reinvigorated her muscles and mind. 

 

    The poison here was like a fungus, lurking deep in caves and spreading its evil like spores carried on beasts and currents alike. It was too hungry, too vast for subtlety, and therefore probably something ancient and forgotten, rather than a nascent new threat. It spoke through the void in words that held no meaning to her, and Loloto’s embrace became as much a cloak against its malfeasance as the cold depths. As T’ali’au descended she realized that its call betrayed it. While the rules were different, just as sound interacted with surfaces, the mental chant’s distortions revealed a natural cave entrance to the source of the poison. It was a welcome alternative to the sewage entrance that the natives had recommended, and T’ali’au was glad to have avoided the toxins (not to mention the stench) that such a route promised. 

 

    Coursing through the caves with well honed agility, T’ali’au began to sense the presence of others in the dark. At least some of them wore light around their spirits the same way that T’ali’au carried Loloto in her heart, and she wondered if they were Jedi, alien holy warriors that sought out and confronted evil. If so, they would be invaluable aid in helping to stop the poison. Perhaps the tides of Loloto had brought them all together in this moment. She reached out to them gently, the metaphysical equivalent of playfully splashing someone with water to get their attention.


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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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Sheog the Mad said:
oof Sheog

Is actually a tribe of autistic ewoks in a costume

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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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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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Posted (edited)

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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Sheog the Mad said:
oof Sheog

Is actually a tribe of autistic ewoks in a costume

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