In the depths of space, far beyond the southern borders of the Seitia Sector, the Imperial Star Destroyer “Obsidian Spear” slowly moves along. Its purpose, unknown. But not far off of its starboard side lies massive space storms, which block a large swath of the wild space that exists beyond it. It could be investigating it, or maybe even headed to a secret base. But the ragtag team calling themselves the Murderhobos, consisting of former Vice-Chancellor and current Office of Secret Intelligence Director Anderson, Chyron Chancellor Jorm Na'trej, former Kasiyan Governor Alaisy Tir'eivra, and finally Taldryan Republic Naval Fleet Rear Admiral and Summit Guard Commander Arturis Schulen, really don’t care.
The Drake, Taldryan’s revolutionary stealth capital ship, slowly lurked behind it the same as it had for four days already. Four days of waiting, to give them a comforting thought that there couldn’t possibly be anyone following them. Because of the ship’s double-blind handicap when the stealth shield is engaged, it is purely through the force that the team is aware of the Obsidian Spear’s position and their distance.
With a slow tap of several keys to perform manual targeting with his eyes closed, Arturis, who was piloting the ship by himself from the command chair, took in a short breath followed by a smile. “Let’s begin.”
One final tap, and it was madness. Before the Obsidian Spear knew was was going on, could even raise their shields, the stealth shield dropped and the targeting systems of the Drake had their marks. The top two heavy mass-driver cannons on the starboard and port sides opened fire on the shield generators that sat atop the bridge, while the lower two fired on the ionization reactor underneath it. The generators went up in massive explosions, the reactor armor buckling under the strikes of the driver cannons. The quad heavy turbolasers belted the seven engines, to leave it dead in the water.
Lastly, as the drake came about the destroyer while the reactor systems were in disarray before the internal reactor could kick in, the point-defense turrets devastated the topside of the destroyer; taking out its communications array, sensor array, and each of the turret systems on top.
“Seven…six…five…” Arturis counted down in his head, aware of the time it would take before the internal reactor’s systems would take over from the ionization reactor, before he reactivated the stealth shield and changed the course of the Drake. As anticipated, the underside cannons fired on where the Drake would have been just moments after the internal reactor powered them back up, but to no avail.
Arturis looked behind him at the three as he configured a rotational orbit into autopilot, climbing from the chair slowly with his Ruby Scepter as his cane.
“You sure about this?” he asked, with an emphasis towards <@414705077484257280>. “I know you said you had a fun time in mind, but this is beyond what I could have imagined.”
“Have I ever disappointed you, Arshy? I know I haven’t,” Jorm grinned down at the cushy bunny, “and it’ll get better from here. Now, to the breaching pod before we circle around too far, we want to stick to the back of the Spear’s neck after all. <@188018248241905664> , I suggest you fold yourself in first.”
With a sly grin, Arturis limped his way along toward the breaching pod. “Of course not, Jormie. It’s been nothing but brimstone and excitement ever since you invited me to join.”
With a hiss of her mask, the tall Sith let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Once again, I have the pleasure of studying my knees up close, it seems. Just mind the sharp bits, or you will end up full of holes.”
When was the last time Aequitas had truly allowed himself to cut loose? The first mission he had with Aphotis. He had no inhibitions regarding the lives lost. They were scum, plain and simple. He judged them thoroughly and found them undeserving of their lives.
He overheard the conversation between Arshy and Jormie with a roll of his eyes, but kept any lingering comments to himself. Jorm had, after all, aided in a breakthrough in his research. An exciting endeavour was afoot.
Alas, Fifi was not quite ready yet. She had broken free, but was back in her tank to finish development. A shame, really. A display of her monstrous strength would have been perfect for a situation like this.
Oh well. Anders was looking forward to unleashing the stored reserves of his judgement.
He allowed himself a small chuckle as he folded his arms across his chest. “Now, now, Aphotis. We have to at least give them a chance to kill us before we turn on each other. I must give you gratitude, though, Chancellor. I have made a breakthrough in my research.”
<@414705077484257280>
“Trust me, I felt it. That double pinpoint surge of unlimited rage and equal smugness couldn’t have been anything else.”
As Arturis carefully held onto the side of the door and made his way inside, he glanced behind him remembering the Fifth person that opted to come along after Jorm’s invitation. With Alaisy and Anders, this was going to be a tightly packed pod.
“Oh yeah. Magistrate Darkblade, you coming?” He asked as he finally managed to take a seat.
<@179267754145218560>
The Anzati was surprised when the invitation came from the Chyron Chancellor. He told himself it was probably because of how well he had handled himself during the negotiations on their previous mission together. Although not a complete success, they had bonded enough to earn each others trust, perhaps.
Morax stumbled into the breaching pod, his armour making it difficult to occupy less space.
Having learned many important lessons from the previous mission, the Magistarte had spared no expense on upgrading his armour to provide the safety and security he would need to operate at full capacity at all times. As an added security, after having watched Jorm blow himself out of a window, the Anzati made sure his armour was equipped to withstand entry into any planet from orbit. He figured this would also allow him to withstand the vacuum of space, though he was not completely sure as the mechanic was speaking in a language he barely understood.
There was no room for him to sit, so he stood in front of Alaisy, reaching out to the ceiling and grabbing a strap to wrap around his arm.
“Ready to go,” the Anzati said. His heartbeat started to race, as he thought about the upcoming slaughter that was to happen.
And with that, the Murderhobos were away. The pod launched from the Drake and made its way to the Destroyer, coming in for a landing within a destroyed section where force fields had already came up to protect it. It was within the belly of the ship, near its lowest decks.
The power there was flickering intermittently, celing and wall panels dislodged with sparks flying from damaged conduits and power lines. Bodies of low-ranking crewmen and technicians were strung about, having been killed by the heavy-mass driver blast that had rocked that section of the ship.
As it landed, the door hissed open to allow the five out, each of them able to see the horrific sight upon them.
Arturis carefully held onto the edge of the door as he climbed his way down, his old age definitely showing before he finally managed to stand evenly on the durasteel flooring with his weight on his cane. “Well that was a cramped ride…” he murmured to himself as he glanced around. “So. Do we want to stick together, or split up and work our way up deck by deck? What’s the thought here, everyone? If we split up, I definitely claim the crew and regimental bunks on the mid-levels once we reach that point Until then, I can take the aft sections near the central turbolifts. Figuring Anders or Alaisy would want the medical bays and wards, along with the brig and interrogation sections…”
Easily, he had chosen the most difficult path. Especially depending on the army contingents that potentially could have been assigned to the ship…
<@414705077484257280> <@837236610684813342> <@179267754145218560> <@188018248241905664>
“I’ll hit the secondary bridge at the base of the superstructure, snatch as much of the ship’s encrypted storage media as I can before these blockheads can wipe it. After that, maybe a quick glance at the hangar if they have anything worth stealing in those bays.”
“And if our last endeavour together is any indication, I will assume that any disturbances made are by you, Chancellor, and that all is going according to plan,” Anders allowed himself a small chuckle as he smiled wryly. “I, indeed, would prefer to take the interrogation quarters and the surrounding prison cells in the lower levels of the ship.”
<@61385159655559168>
The Sith stretched after exiting the pod and click-clacked away towards the wards without saying a word. One way or another she would be knee deep in the dead, attracting attention and giving the rest of the party the chance to do their thing.
Morax stepped out last, letting the others move past him before exiting the pod. Sirens were screaming and it wouldnt be long before they would have company.
“I need to follow one of you out of this area before I find a relatively safe area to bunker down in and provide support. I’m a bit shaky on my battle meditation and what better way to enhance my abilities here with you murder machines clearing out the ship?” the Magistrate said.
<@61385159655559168>
Arturis was already making his way down the hallway, despite the alarms. The first thing he would want to do is make his way towards the rear of the ship. By securing the central turbolifts, he could ensure the others would maintain control of their respective areas before moving up level by level. Several passageways back, a couple of black-dressed naval crewmen were arguing with each other and turned down towards Arturis. They paused to look at him, the Kushiban looking in kind.
With barely a thought, the one on the right dropped the toolbox he was carrying and grabbed the other, forcefully kissing them as they stumbled into a room which the door conveniently had just opened. As they fell inside, the door slid shut and a lone bolt of force lightning shot from Arturis’ fingertip into its control panel. He then continued hobbling his way along. As he progressed, he saw another crewman who was working on some of the damaged wiring that was behind a panel which had fallen to the floor in the blast. Similarly, a flick of his fingertip sent the crewman into the opening and straight onto the live wires.
As he screamed in agony, Arturis simply continued past. Two stormtroopers ran up from behind, blasters raised.
“Hold it!” one of the pair yelled, their finger tightening on the trigger. The Kushiban turned his head and glared at them, then he tapped his cane on the durasteel floor twice.
“You are my elite guard. You have been promoted, and will give your lives to my every order and my survival. None can supersede my authority.” he telepathically said to the both of them. Immediately their blasters were lowered and they saluted before scampering to his side where they feel they should have been. They dared not speak a word, instead watching both in front and behind them like good guards.
Together, the trio continued along towards the turbolifts. “Let’s head to engineering storage, and then up a level to the Stormtrooper bunks.”
<@414705077484257280>
The Kiffar strung his flamethrower across his back as he watched Alaisy walk off, enjoying the view in no small measure. Instead of the larger weapons, he drew the compact black and bronze lightdagger. Consulting with his mental map of the Star Destroyer, he stepped over a few corpses and cut a panel from the wall, revealing the maintenance duct behind.
“See y'all later,” he called back over the shoulder and disappeared into the ship’s grimey guts swift as a wicked weasel on amphetamines.
<@837236610684813342>
Anders, on the other hand, was not going to do something quite as undignified, nor as repulsive.
With his hands behind his back, his chin up, and a small across his face, he approached the nearest turbolift. Luckily for him, it seemed to already be descending.
“I will report telepathically, should the need arise.”
Oh, how he loved efficiency. When the turbolift doors opened, he was greeted by the presence of a squadron of 19th Saber Stormtroopers.
“Freeze! Hands… what are you doing?” The trooper at tbe forefront was as perplexed as the rest of them when Anders entered the turbolift and hit the button to descend. The last thing anyone in the hangar saw of him was the wicked smile on his face that curved ever so slightly into malice followed by the sound of blaster fire from within the turbolift.
When the doors opened, the bodies of the squadron of stormtroopers collapsed out of the door around Anders.
“Very good,” Anders praised the one remaining behind him. “You have performed admirably. Now, tell me. What are you?”
“Scum…” the Trooper slurred the word out.
“And what is the punishment for scum?”
The trooper raised his blaster to his chin. “Death…”
The blaster shot echoed down the hallway, Anders humming a tune to himself along the way to the prison cells.
<@188018248241905664>
With Aequitas already having initiated combat, the halls ahead of Aphotis seemed secluded in comparison. Doors slid open without effort as if not a soul cared about the wounded or guards in the way toward the Medical bays.
A lonely trooper here or there just froze in place, crawling away along the walls in the hopes the slender, long-tailed Sith wouldn’t murder them in cold blood.
Tir'eivra did not have to get her claws dirty yet. Alarms followed in her wake, but the area was clearly not a priority so her heels click-clacked further.
When a squad of six finally halted in front of her with the commander raising a fist to stop the rest, Alaisy peered down at them with pity. It was hard to tell whether the hiss from her mask was a sinister chuckle or her simply exhaling. When she clacked a single step forward, the commander took one step back. Of course her claw had already weaved her tendrils of fear around the minds of those under his command.
It took a single word from her lips, “hush,” for a searing hot mark to burn through the chest of the commander as a trooper behind him depressed the trigger on their blaster, ending the life of his leader.
A series of gashes decorated the terrified squad mere heartbeats later as Aphotis cut them apart.
<@179267754145218560>
Everyone had dashed off, ignoring the Anzatis question and started their own path of carnage throughout the ship.
A bit flustered at being ignored, Morax made way to the nearest turbolift to head towards the bridge. He figured that if he could take control of the bridge he’ d be able to provide support from there for the rest of the team spread throughout the ship.
As a turbolift sped down towards him, the Magistrate felt anxious about his self chosen task. Would he be able to hold his own against an unknown amount of enemies? Perhaps there was another Force user on the ship that they knew nothing about. Or they could be walking into a nightmare of experimentations gone awry.
With a woosh, the doors slid open, inviting the Anzati inside as if to say “Come and find out if your destiny ends here or you are meant for something greater.”
Gritting his teeth, the Equite stepped inside and mentally told himself, “I am meant for something far greater.”
The doors slid back shut, enveloping the Dark Jedi and shooting him up towards the, presumably, packed hallways of his enemies on the bridge level.
<@61385159655559168>
At the turbolift, Arturis went inside. Outside, his ‘guard’ laid dead. He had intended to follow his idea and go level by level, wreaking chaos, but a more…sinister…idea had crossed his mind. The elevator dinged as it reached deck 3, the doors sliding open revealing…nothing there.
The first stormtrooper barely had time to raise his blaster in curiosity as it arrived before Arturis was on him from the ceiling of the lift, his saber passing through him.
As blaster bolts shot across the corridor, he leapt and darted between volleys, his small form making him a difficult target. His lightsaber became a blur, deflecting bolts back at them. A trio of stormtroopers crumpled as their own shots returned to sender.
More troopers converged, blasters raised, but Arturis was already in motion. He vaulted off a bulkhead, somersaulting over a squad, and landed in their midst. The lightsaber swept through the air in a deadly arc, cutting down four in an instant. With a snarl, a naval trooper tried to flank him, but Arturis responded with a swift kick, his furry foot crushing the trooper’s windpipe with a sickening crunch.
Arturis advanced swiftly, the blast doors to the main reactor now in sight. The corridor echoed with the sound of boots and shouted commands as the last wave of stormtroopers poured in.
With a flick of his paw, Arturis stretched out to the Force. Dark energy crackled in the air. A storm of blue lightning erupted from his small form, arcing across the corridor. Troopers screamed, convulsing as the dark side’s energy fried circuits, armor, and flesh alike. The hallway smelled of burnt armor and flesh.
Arturis turned toward the reactor doors, eyes glinting. He raised his paw again and the doors mechanical parts groaned in protest as they were forced open. Glaring at the reactor, he sent bolts of lightning lancing directly into its heart. Sparks flew, and with a groan the reactor’s systems flickered then went dark except for the red emergency lighting.
<@414705077484257280>
The ship shuddered and gasped around Jorm as he hurried through the crawlspace, the already dim lighting cutting out for a moment along with a majority of the indicators lining the walls. Only dull red emergency illumination took its place.
Hey, one was useful already!
Jorm paused for a moment and strummed the net of the Force, listening for emotions.
Pocket of sheer terror… horny terror… confusion… there, not too far, determination and discipline. Officers or NCOs at work.
The Kiffar changed his course and jumped up into the ventilation system, its blueprint committed to memory from years of study and imperial remnant service, and moved through the ducts with the speed and stealth of a particularly vile fart until he spotted the group through a grated ceiling vent.
A Lieutenant Commander had taken charge of engineers, naval armsmen, and a handful of Stormtroopers and was in the process of organizing them with quiet, firm words, forcing the others to calm down and listen in order to hear him.
Good man. Bad luck.
Jorm took the man onto his mental hook and tore him upwards through the bolted steel grate, which buckled and bent as the officer in turn was sliced, diced and liquefied before his remains splashed back down through the same grate.
Covered by the cries and curses of te remaining crew, Jorm jumped over the buckled grate and continued on his merry way.
<@837236610684813342>
That certainly did not take long. Red flashing lights illuminated the hallways. Footsteps echoed from passing by. That just begged the question of who was responsible for the alert? Anders’ gut instinct and personal experience informed him that Jorm was the most likely candidate, though Arturis was a wild card that was not to be underestimated.
His thoughts carried him into an adjacent corridor where the door shut so suddenly behind him that it nearly caught his robe. The Taldryan Spymaster glanced back at it with an almost nonchalant curiosity as he heard blaster rifles being prepped ahead of him. A group of Stormtroopers had barricaded themselves in-between him and his destination; the prison cells.
“Don’t. Move.”
Anders scoffed at the order. Who were they to take charge? By his estimation, and by what he felt in the Force, there were approximately ten hostiles and only one of him.
They were woefully outmatched.
Anders took a step forward.
“I said don’t move!”
The smile on his face curved into a smirk as he took another step forward.
“I SAID STOP!”
Anders broke into a light walk.
“OPEN FIRE!”
A ricochet of the Force in his mind warned Anders of the incoming threat. Without so much as raising a finger, he tore the panels off of the nearby wall and used them as a makeshift shield against the smorgasbord of blaster fire pinging off of the steel like pellets.
“What… the Hell!?”
“Keep shooting!”
He felt their resolve waver, their despair. Good.
He linked their minds to his, a subconscious melding within the Dark Side. He could hear their desperation like a sweet song in the opera. Then, he decided to punish them for raising their weapons against him. Ear-splitting migraines assaulted the troopers throwing off their aim and rendering them useless. Anders then hurled the steel panels at the group, crushing them against the sheer weight.
Now there was no obstacle to stop him from entering the cells.
<@188018248241905664>
Not finding any significant resistance, Aphotis had made it to the Medical Bay. Bacta tanks lined the rooms, all seemingly interconnected with many souls waiting for their rejuvenation.
The Sith peered around, letting her mask’s audio receptors pick up on someone’s footsteps. She wondered how they neither called for help, nor ran away. But when the Medbay overseer stepped around the corner they were met with a sharp object stuck in their throat. The man grasped at her tail in panic as they slowly choked to death.
‘So much for that, maybe they should be more mindful about their holoplayer volume.’
Tir'eivra continued through the room until she found the Bacta pump. She shook a small vial of alchemical black fluid and attached a needle to it, injecting the syringe into the Bacta tubing. At first it clouded the tanks, until it dissolved enough to warp back to its usual color.
All the sedated patients woke up one by one, panicking as if being swallowed alive by the Bacta, drowning, but living and dying, endlessly. Their sclera’s turned obsidian. Alaisy’s Nightmare Talisman, a Wayfinder Focus began to glow a ghostly argent.
A cold chill ran over her spine that gradually heated up until it became a pleasant tingling. Her Garden of Trepidations was being fed pure dark side power.
Before leaving, the Sith downloaded the medical records and took a sample of the infected Bacta.
<@179267754145218560>
Morax felt his groupmembers emotions through the Force. Excitement, disgust and glee were just a few of the emotions he could easily pick out. Which belonged to which, the Anzati couldn’t figure out as he was unfamiliar with the Force signatures of each member. Something to work on he told himself.
The lifts up to the higher levels of the torn apart ship seemed to still be working for the most part. He was about to reach the floor that would, hopefully, lead to the bridge.
The turbolift screeched to a halt with the doors sliding open agonizingly slow, but stopped halfway. The power had seemed to fail, the backup generators not quite able to provide enough power.
“Hmm, might be alone up here for awhile,” Morax sighed to himself as he wiggled his way through the door into the hallway.
Surprisingly, it was empty. Reaching out with his senses, he tried to look for any signs of life but could find none in the direct vicinity to him. For now, he wouldn’t be fighting it seemed.
Looking left and right, not really knowing where he was going, he picked the left and sprinted down the hallway, hopefully towards the bridge.
<@61385159655559168>
As Arturis advanced down deck 3, troopers continued to try and advance on him but to little avail. Blaster bolts sent toward him were re-directed right back, while another trooper was launched up into the ceiling which caused his neck to snap with a fierce crunch before he was thrown backwards into a small group of four.
He continued to move forward step by step, panic beginning to set in as the trooper’s movements and actions became erratic. One of them was visibly shaken, their blaster not holding still but shaking back and forth. Arturis looked straight at their helmet, the trooper screaming as the Kushiban suddenly morphed into a massive blood-covered hound and lunged at him. The trooper fell backwards and began firing their blaster at the hound as it circled him.
This completely broke the back of the trooper unit that had tried to stop Arturis. Instead of a hound, the trooper was instead firing on the others that were there with them. One after another they fell, completely caught off guard. The remainder of them began to fall back past the mess hall and around the corridor towards the main hanger bay catwalk access and the armed forces command area.
With how they were falling back instead of holding until the last, that told him they were preparing for him ahead. Most likely also meant some very important people were likely beyond…which probably meant there were also Nova Troopers on board.
If there were, this was about to get really exciting very quickly. Arturis began moving along the corridor climbing over the bodies that lined it as he rounded both corners. Blast doors began to seal along the path, but that was fine by him. Instead, he turned to the left and proceeded onto the catwalks far above the main hangar bay. Below, as he had predicted, was his first obstacle. Troopers with orange on their armor, a heavy division. Almost straight away grenades and other explosives were now being fired at him from below.
<@414705077484257280>
A particular reinforced blast door flanked by a quartet of Stormtroopers briefly reflected a falling vent grate before three conjoined, over-souped and superfocused thermal detonators hit it.
The devices erupted into a two-meter sphere of brief yet violent disintegration, cooking away paint and plastic instantly while melting the hardened durasteel at an alarming rate, peppering the guards with marbles of molten metal.
Jorm launched himself at the maelstrom, splitting the torrent upon the spear of his will, and leaped through the boiling void the nanosecond the detonation collapsed.
His lightsaber shot out of his hand ahead of him and curved towards an officer who reached for a console, taking both arms at the elbow before snapping around and circling through the room at neck height adjusted for cover.
“Activate self d-” the maimed officer pressed forth through clenched teeth until his airways collapsed under Jorm’s mental grip.
“With you in a second,” the Kiffar stated, consulting the guidance video on his scanner which Mica had prepared for him.
“Ah, there’s your data vault. Even got your code cylinder in already, now that’s service!”
Useless without the retrieval codes, scum! And I’ll never give those up! The officer’s thoughts were as easy to read as his red, choking face.
“No need, you stereotype. Daily code rotation, aye? Which means you’ve seen them this morning.”
Shock crept upon the scarlet face just before Jorm plucked the officer’s eyes from their sockets and pillaged their memories.
Only moments later the wayward Chancellor opened the vault and filled a satchel with data crystals and RAM chips, cushioned with print-outs and blackmail material while the disarmed officer expired still hanging in the air.
Right, that’ll keep Mica and Beat busy. Time to check the hangar for hot stuff.
<@837236610684813342>
The galaxy caved to the powerful. That was just how it was. It did not matter in what form, whether an Empire, a Republic, Sith or Jedi, the ones who decided the fate of the galaxy were the ones in the highest position of power.
Thus, Anders was the most powerful man in the room when he entered the vast prisoner complex hidden deep within the belly of the Destroyer. The prisoners recognised him as a member of the Brotherhood from his attire, and perhaps reputation.
“We’re saved!” A Togrutan charged to the front of the cell. “Please, you’ve gotta get us out of here!”
Pleas of all various kinds assaulted his ears from the prisoners. Anders raised a hand to silence them.
“For what reason were you all detained?”
The prisoners glanced at each other when they heard the question.
“Did I stutter?” Anders asked. “Why were you detained. Answer, or I will leave you all here to rot.”
There, of course were various reasons ranging from murder, treason, theft… the exact type of scum he despised. They were little more than one-hundred rats scrambling for a morsel.
He was tempted to rid the galaxy of their filth himself, but he had a better idea.
“Only one of you will be allowed to leave. The rest of you will die,” Anders crossed his arms across his chest. “Settle it amongst yourselves. Who gets to live?”
Arguments broke out amongst the prisoners before they began to assault each other. All Anders could do was smile. He did not even have to lift a finger.
<@188018248241905664>
Aphotis emptied some of the medical cabinets and took with her what she knew was valuable or useful in a pinch, storing it within or under her backpack.
She had doubts that the medical records could hold anything interesting, so she stored it away to let someone else go over it later.
Those in the Bacta tanks would never be the same again, if they survived the ordeal.
With a clang the door closed. Alarms went off in the far distance. Then she heard screaming. Considering the proximity she deducted it could only be Aequitas.
She unclipped her Vorpal Blade and welded the entrance to the Medical Wards shut.
‘Time to see what Anders is up to’
<@179267754145218560>
Morax strode through the hallways which were surprisingly void of enemies. This was odd for the Anzati. Surely the hallways to and from the bridge would have been packed with troopers rushing to the decks below to stop his fellow Taldryanites wreaking havoc on their ship?
As the Magistrate neared a “T” split in the hallway, an unfamiliar presence through the Force urged caution. Tugging at his mind ever so slightly, warning him of possible danger but also signaling that something was up ahead that had a very powerful presence within the Force. The warning lights and sirens had gone on nonstop, but for the Anzati it was something he was able to tune out as he now looked ahead trying to see if anyone, or anything, was there. His eyes picked up on nothing, so he carefully reached out with his mind, spreading outwards very carefully.
At first he sensed nothing, then suddenly a hungry feeling washed over him as he spread out his awareness. Taken aback by the sudden feeling, Morax stopped in his tracks. He’d alerted whoever was ahead that he was now here. Morax pushed his senses outwards in a bid to figure out of he was alone or with others. What could only be the bridge, Morax sensed it was teeming with lifeforce. He decided to take the risk and reveal his exact location even though he couldn’t figure out where the figure ahead exactly was.
“So, you’re the last line of defense eh? Posted here like a forgotten bantha to block the way and by the crew just a few more seconds before their inexplicable demise. Well then, come. Let’s dance,” the young Anzati said as he unclipped his lightsaber. Activating it, the familiar hum reverberated throughout the hallway. That did not last long though, as it was joined by another, unfamiliar, crackling of a lightsaber being activated.
Ahead of him, what appeared to be someone, that had been hiding in the shadows until they melted away, revealed themselves along with a bright orange lightsaber springing to life.
The hunger feeling washed over the Anzati once again, clearly eminating from the figure that now stood before him. The orange lightsaber looked unstable, the power of the crystal barely contained as it produced the blade. Not saying anything, the figure stepped confidently forward and revealing themselves as Anzati.
That explains the feeling of hunger, Morax thought to himself as he fell back into a defensive stance and prepared himself for a fight.
<@61385159655559168>
Arturis lept across the catwalks as the explosives and artillery struck the ceiling from far below, deliberately landing under the support beams that held them up. As he lept from one to the other, the center sections began to weaken before finally they fell to the floor below causing the troopers to scatter. In the chaos, the Kushiban moved on to the other end of the hangar bay and out into the passage once more; this time beyond the blast doors that had sealed.
The troopers began to move to the entrance of the main hangar bay to try and go up after him, unaware of what was waiting outside. <@414705077484257280>
In the main passage was a large checkpoint with forcefield walls, and an opening in the middle with a large reinforced table. Black armored troopers that had yellow markings signifying that of the Nova Corps. Far behind them stood additional Nova Troopers, and several Death Troopers. The Nova Troopers had Relby’s trained on Arturis, and the Death Troopers with their E-11Ds.
Arturis stood there, leaning on his cane. “Well, well…” he thought to himself, a smirk on his lips, “if the Nova Corps is here, that means there’s at least someone of General rank or higher. Curious who it would be.”
As a command to open fire came from the rear of the hallway, Arturis briefly lifted several fingers from his cane and a large wave of Force Lightning shot forward from them, arcing into the force field wall and the troopers that stood around it. While the wall absorbed a decent amount, the front line of troopers fell to the ground writhing in pain. The back line began to open fire, but the shots were forced to be funneled through the opening in the forcefield wall. The power of the wall, plus the additional power being fed into it by the lightning, did nothing but cause the bolts to be fully absorbed.
The ones that did go through the opening were disrupted by the lightning, some even rerouted as additional power to feed the lightning. Finally, he ceased his strike and began to move forward, his cane mounted behind him now as his lightsaber sprung to life. Slowly he began to walk forward past the bodies of the Nova Troopers, deflecting the shots that came from the end of the hallway. While the Relby shots were not as problematic, the E-11D’s raw power was making it difficult to deflect. Now he had the table in front of him as cover, with a moment to consider how to advance.
If there were more Death Troopers ahead, it could be an issue. If this is all there was, maybe not as bad. All he knew was, he needed to get to the end of the hallway and into the ground command section.
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He could feel them even before the cacaphony of their struggles reached through the walls - troopers in pursuit of someone who had fun leading them on. And they chose a route that led straight through the same junction Jorm occupied.
Prescience kicked in, experiencing a close future full of blaster fire.
A future Jorm didn’t have the patience for.
The pneumatic hiss of the iris door activating was echoed by the Kiffar’s flamethrower raised to its center. And as soon as he caught a glimpse of white through the expanding opening, he turned the far side into literal hell.
The corridor’s sensors picked up on the fire and slammed the door shut again to prevent its spread, sealing the troopers in the inferno.
“Beats suffocating. Maybe.”
Then he made his way into the hangar proper, looking for the control station.
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And then there was one. The ultimate champion of ultimate destiny. Some would say the Force had blessed this one lone warrior to survive his trial. Perhaps that was true, but it was not like Anders cared in the slightest. As a Sith, the Force was designed to be brought under his whim.
He intended to demonstrate that. With outstretched fingers, lightning jettisoned into the nearby control panel. It sparkedcand hissed, the lights flashing around him before the backup generator to the room stabilised his surroundings.
The cell door opened, and the Human, bleeding from his missing ear, hobbled forward towards him.
“What is your name?” Anders got straight to the point.
“Carl…” He said.
“Well, Carl. I congratulate you on surviving your ordeal. It is time for your reward.”
Anders tightened the Force around the Human’s throat, his eyes bulging out of his head. His expression screamed confusion, pain, and fear. The fear of death, of his life being snuffed out.
What was it like to die? Anders always watched and listened when the Force left the body of his quarry as he executed them.
The heavy tap of heels behind him drew his attention.
“Ah, Aphotis. I trust you are well? Do not mind yhis one, he will not be of any concern to us imminently.”
The choked Human beckoned for the tall Sith to help him, an act of absolute desperation, given her imposing figure.
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Placeholder. Will be about my battle with the FU.
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Arturis continued pushing down the hallway, Nova Trooper and Death Trooper alike falling before their own blaster bolts. Be it having been dragged telekinetically into the line of fire, or being forced to turn right as they pull the trigger, even deflected back. Their elite skill was not nearly enough to compete against the Elder Rear Admiral.
As he rounded the corner, the troops began to back off to the army command section and once they were inside they sealed the door. Arturis heard three separate closures, indicating that three blast doors had closed. It made sense, given there was someone valuable in there. He had no explosives however, and his saber would not nearly be enough to get through. He stood there quietly, contemplating his next move on how he would get past.
He wanted whoever was in there. They were going to be his trophy of the day.
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Even before he could make it to the dockmaster’s station, he spotted it.
The newly elected true prize of this journey.
Occupying half the length of the bottomless central hangar space, the classic Nubian J-type gleamed like a drop of quicksilver that merely magnanimously humored the mortals around by keeping the shape of a starship.
I AM SO KEEPING THIS, he thought into the aether as loud as he could while holding up a finger to the approaching hangar garrision.
“Be with you in a minute,” he shouted at the troopers and shot off towards the dockmaster’s at a blurring sprint, dodging blaster bolts as he went. Jorm kicked the man out as a means of braking - with devastating results for the human - and shoved a chip from his music collection into the hangar’s speaker system.
As the Song started playing, he emerged from the office, cranked his flameflower to a low but permanent setting, and dropped the spewing weapon to the ground while harnessing the snake of fire with his telekinetic powers.
“Allright, boys, who’s ready to paaaaaaartaaaaaaayyy?!”
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Even down in the prison cells, Aequitas and Aphotis could feel the vibrations of the song being played, the crescendo of the bass rippling across the durasteel.
Anders had to scoff. Jorm had absolutely zero taste in music. The music irritated him to such a degree that he had unintentionally tightened his grip on the Human’s throat. Aphotis seemed to ponder him for a moment, more like an object for her Garden of Trepidation, another living morsel.
A spurt of blood signalled the end of the Human’s life.
“Shall we go see what is making all that racket?” Aequitas gestured in the direction of the nearest turbolift.
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