Star Wars CLOSED 10 ABY: Fringe Elements and the Perseverance of the First Order

OOC: Fun combo with our unpredictable GM, @The Jedi in the Pumas

IC Sabel
Hyperspace

Sabel let the corner of his mouth tic upward at Abaddon’s call. The beast was terribly predictable. That the Hell Hazard was so fast was news to add to the intelligence he had on the Syndicate. He called over one of the crew, ordering that the mechanics and containment facility that they had the First Prince ensconced in be moved to the yacht, including one of the Eternal power sources to keep it functioning. He called another over to ensure that his casualties and injured, as well as hale Red Guards were likewise returned to the yacht.

He stood, hands clasped behind his back, on the bridge of the hybrid, until he was reported back to that the tasks had both been completed. At the report, he turned, nodded to the bridge crew to set the comms to transfer from his yacht through the ship and to Abaddon. And then he acknowledged the overwhelming Dark Side presence. He couldn’t fully place it yet but they had been heading for the Maw so it wouldn’t have surprised him if that was what he was feeling but it was useful at the moment.

He was not sure how well Abaddon could sense anything in the Force but still he allowed his presence to be submerged in the overwhelming Dark energy, becoming just a small wrinkle in that energy as he drew his presence down to almost nothing. The yacht had protections to keep the presences of his Guard hidden and the cocoon the First Prince was in would hide her so once he boarded the yacht events were set in motion.

He nodded to the pilot of the yacht and allowed the comm to open. ”Well, hello Abaddon, good to see you again, especially so soon after the last occurrence. Is there any true reason to your anger, other than that I defeated you without ever having to face you? Direct your anger where it belongs, at the failure you are, failing to keep your First Prince safe.”

Abaddon slipped on the oversized space suit onto his frame as he responded.

“Listen up, ****face, and listen good. I don’t play little games and use secrets and run from fights. I ain’t gotta. You’re going to die...” he pulled the helmet over his head as he rode down the turbo lift to the closest hangar the Hell Hazard had to Sabel’s ship. “...You’re going to die but not before I kill every person around you first. Took two of your boys out back there, didn’t I? Ripped your girl’s face off and broke the spine of beach muscle. How many more of your underlings you going to let me break while you keep running?”

The grip of the Dark Side over Sabel’s ship began to wobble the ship.

“Sir!” The ship’s head navigator called over a private link, that Abaddon could not hear. “We’re losing control of the ship! We don’t know where we will be dropping out of hyperspace!”

In a normal hyperspace jump, this would be dangerous, but salvageable. However, heading into the dark hole infested zone of the Maw, in an instant Sabel’s entire ship could be destroyed without any warning. The Engineer of this Force attack on Sabel’s star destroyer was searching... searching for someone...

Sabel nodded to the pilot, in hyper this maneuver was dangerous but necessary. He could hear the terror in the crew from the hybrid. As the yacht lifted the feeling of shaking left it, although it could be still seen through the viewport as the craft slipped out of the forward, ventral hangar. The comms were still coupled for now. He reached out to the crew of the hybrid on a separate frequency from that to Abaddon, ”Board the auxiliaries that are onboard, they may survive a crash hyper departure here and that is necessary this close to the Maw. Preserve as many of the crew as possible.”

The threats from Abaddon bothered him little at all. He knew that his Guard threw themselves into any situation they needed when following his orders and they paid for it. He touched the stud to respond to Abaddon, ”Civility takes one far, Abaddon. Something you have in quite short supply. All you know how to do is fight and kill. I do not hate or despise you. Rather I pity you for your lack of any skills beyond those of fighting. But do feel free to continue following as my fleets destroy all of yours.”

He smiled coldly, the pilot shuddering at the look. Touching another stud he sent a message to Sten, ”Continue Case Zulu, destroy every Syndicate fleet that does not have a Prince in residence. Use the Chiss craft, with Chord’s House’s symbol prominent upon them to carry out the bulk of the operations. Notify Eleodie so that she can have her fleet carry out similar operations.”

His hand came down on the pilot’s shoulder, feeling the man shudder under his grasp, ”As soon as the hybrid begins to drop out of hyper take us out, full power into the maze of the Maw.” He handed the man a pyramidal shape, plugging it into the nav computer. ”Follow it’s guidance and we will lead him deep into the worst of the maze while remaining safe.”

It happened fast and with violent shaking and jolts.

They all exited Hyperspace: the Hybrid, Sabel’s yacht, and the Hell Hazard. The hybrid spun in a spiraling way, alarms blaring through the star destroyer, and escape pods being launched into the vast nothingness of the Maw. The Star Destroyer was the least of Sabel’s worries. His own yacht was thrown into a spin from the inaccurate exit from hyperspace. All systems shutdown. While the pilot and crew tried to get it back online, Sabel could feel the entity that pulled them from hyperspace grow comfortable, even more powerful, and confident. It had located the First Prince.

“You still alive, *******?” Abaddon’s voice buzzed in over the short range coms.

“Sir, we’re working to bring the engines back online!” One of his crew members informed from underneath his console.

“Yea, you’re still alive. Haha, I don’t know where you’ve brought us to consider this your graveyard.”

In the distance behind the dead yacht, a squadron of Star fighters launched out of the Hell Hazard, heading towards Sabel, Abaddon leading the charge.

”Octus, to the bridge now, you are our new pilot.” Sabel called out as the charred body of the former pilot, fried through with Force Lightning, slid out of the command chair. He stepped past his guard, striding the short distance to the engine spaces. He stepped up to the engines, closing his eyes as he placed his palms on the engines. With his knowledge of mechu-deru he scanned the engines quickly. His eyes opened once more and when his hands lifted parts began flying around the space, seemingly at random.

The moment passed, components being removed and others placed on place, relays replaced or closed, systems repaired. He took two steps to the panel for the engines and flipped one switch, allowing a small flow of electricity to enter the panel to power it. It took another long moment that the engine crew sweated through before the lights came back up and the engine roared back to life. He flipped one more button and the ship disappeared as it leaped forward.

Sabel returned to the bridge to find a message from Sten waiting for him. He ignored it for the moment, ”Octus, follow the course of the wayfinder. It will not lead you astray. And once we reach the Maw the chances of those starfighters to overtake or destroy us will become minimal.”

He felt the satisfaction of the dark Force presence as it found what it was looking for but that began to fade the closer they were to the Maw, even as powerful as it was. Just before he knew that comms would become minimal he reached out to Abaddon, ”Feel free to follow us in, Third Prince. I’d hate to not acquaint you with your soon to be prison before I leave you in it.” he told the beast before he configured shields to prepare for incoming fire, knowing that the Syndicate forces would target the entire area now that they could now see or sense them.

And then he sat back in his command chair as other crew removed the still smoking body, to read Sten’s message as the energies of the Maw washed over the stealthed yacht.



The Maw tugged and pulled at the ships. Octus needed every bit of focus and skill to hold the yacht steady as the Black Holes would swallow the yacht whole at the first opportunity. The wayfinder’s path left very little room for error and Abaddon’s squadron somehow realized this as well, as they did not seek to surround the yacht but were following directly behind it. They couldn’t see or sense the yacht... something was guiding them.

Or rather something was pulling them along.

The entity that Sabel thought would grow weaker in the Maw did no such thing. It had attached itself to the First Prince and was pulling the Star Fighter squadron and Abaddon in a direct path behind the yacht.

It was absolutely quiet on the yacht.

It was absolutely quiet in Abaddon’s cockpit. The view of the black holes’ radiation, of broken ships and destroyed asteroids all around them. He felt out of his element. But he had to rescue the First and he’d go to whatever ends he had to do so.

“There!” He highlighted on his squadron’s proximity computers. “Fire the chain hooks!”

“Where?” Someone asked over the channel.

“All over that area, asswipe!”

The massive chains shot from the underbellies of the starfighters in the direction of Sabel’s yacht. Most of them missed or were deflected by the shields and were pulled by the Gravitational pulls, yanking the starfighters into oblivion. But three, including Abaddon’s made crashed through the shields and made contact. Two of them wrapped around and smashed into the wings of the yacht with heavy balls, hooking the starfighters to the yacht, while Abaddon’s wrecking ball chain slammed into the underbelly of the yacht.

The damage to the yacht was minor but the ship’s systems couldn’t afford complex evasive maneuvers on the pathway through the Maw.

“I’m coming for you, First.” Abaddon said as he and the other starfighters began reeling themselves in towards the yacht.

Sabel set the message aside, mostly unread, as the chains attached to the yacht. He stood, making his way to the chamber that housed the equipment and the First Prince’s cocoon. The entire assembly was small, barely larger than her and the ball she was in. ”Thirty seconds, I need three crew, armored and in magboots, on the hull. Cut the chains and let them free. But not before.” he called over the ship’s intercom.

As he lifted the cocoon assembly with the Force he stopped at a control panel and pressed a button. The entire outer hull electrified, sending powerful currents of energy down the chains of the pirates, to their ships. He let the current run for a full thirty seconds and then cut it out so as not to use all the power of the ship. He then walked the cocoon to the hangar, placing it in a small capsule that had a booster attached.

He paused, knowing that his crew was at work on the chains, cutting through them even as the pirates and Abaddon worked their way closer to the yacht. Which caused him to pause, there were now two presences, the one that he had felt outside the Maw, that had attacked his SD, and another, more distant one, that seemed at odds with the one that was guiding Abaddon. Which caused his eyes to flare as he smiled. He keyed the intercom to the bridge. ”Octus, place your hand on the wayfinder and reach out to the distant, powerful Force presence. Let the wayfinder notice it and track to it, that is our newest destination.”

Toggling the comm from his armor he smiled inside the armor before he spoke unsure if Abaddon could even hear him at this short a range, ”You want the First Prince and are persistent. However, I would recommend against reeling yourself closer to my ship. For one, I have had you in range of my armament this entire time. For two, the moment I sense or see your craft move I will fire her into the closest black hole. And with how closely we are skirting them even your Force powered friend who is helping will not be able to stop her from being crushed in the immense gravity well one of those are.”

To demonstrate his resolve he had the body of his former pilot loaded into a similar capsule, ”You desire to see what that will do, I will show you.” He cracked the hangar door open wide enough to allow the capsule to pass through and the one with the deceased pilot shot out, the gravity of the black hole already sucking it in seconds after it left. Within a further few seconds the capsule ruptured, spaghettifying, and quickly becoming it’s component atoms. ”The choice is yours, Abaddon, be a good boy or watch her die.”

Abaddon slammed his fists in his console.

“Argh, I’m going to tear your head off! You do anything to her and we’ll drag your ship down with us!”

He sat there fuming for a moment. But he could not come up with anything. He hated schemers and Sabel had made it to the top of his list.

“Release the ship... back off. We’re going to retreat back to the Hazard!” He ordered as the starfighters detached from the chains and carefully traced their way back. Abaddon cursing Sabel’s name.

But the Force Entity did not leave. It was residing on Sabel’s yacht now and it had not taken kindly to his threat to eject Colussia. The yacht was free to continue on but it now has a new passenger aboard.

As Octus placed his hand on the wayfinder, his mind was immediately privy to a conversation... an eternal war of words that was tens of thousands of years old. His frame shook violently as the conversation continued in front of him which manifested in him shouting both sides of the argument in front of the crew.

“They left me here. Imprisoned me and when I am free, I will make the galaxy suffer for it.” She said.

“I’m sure. It was always the same story with the four of you. Children playing house. How boring.” He said.

“How did my children pass... how did the Father disappear, and a being like you remains?” She asked.

“Because I do something better than any of you ever could: I exist. I was there when there was no living thing and I will be there when nothing remains. So have your revenge... Good luck with escaping. But keep in mind what happened the last time I was crossed.” He said.

Octus’ body jolted upwards and the wayfinder disintegrated. The yacht was set on a course now that could not be altered, to a location that had never been heard of. A location that only existed when it was prudent.

And because of Sabel’s request of Octus... it was now prudent for it to appear.

Sabel sensed the presence coalescing aboard the yacht, which was going to be an interesting experience as they approached the strengthening presence that seemed antagonistic to it. He called one of the yacht crew, one of the troopers that were on the list to be considered for the Guard, to the hangar.

He detached a panel from his armor, handing it to the younger, female Sephi that appeared. ”This is my biometrics, heartrate, breathing, brainwaves, and so forth. Should any vary even slightly out of tolerances you will eject the cocoon into the nearest black hole. Do not ask to be sure, do not hesitate, immediately eject her.” If she made it through this test she stood a better chance of replacing one of the recently deceased Guards.

He paused by the door to the hangar, sending a thought out, ’Whoever, whatever you are, I will meet you in the main lounge, so that we may speak.’

"No. We'll be meeting face to face soon enough. Your ship should be here in a few hours. Try to rest up, ok?"

Sabel chuckled softly, he hadn’t truly expected a being that seemed as powerful as the one that had decided to take up residence both aboard his craft and elsewhere to just meet him but it was his craft and so he’d extended the...invitation.

”As you say. As long as you or your friend do not interfere with me, my people, or my craft as we approach, I will rest.” Sabel responded.

He reached out to the young Sephi, ’We have perhaps gained a few hours respite but do not deviate from your responsibility. Trust is earned, even from the mightiest, and that has not occurred yet.’ he sent her the thought.

And then reached out to Octus as well to make sure the Guard kept the crew and himself on alert for any deviation from their norms or of the operation of the yacht as he walked to his cabin to do just as the presence had suggested.

TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas

 

IC: Wapoe - a combo with the incomparable @The Jedi in the Pumas
Church - confession?

He had never been much of a church-goer, even when he had been alive, or, rather, when he had first been alive.

Owing to certain predilections and choices over the years, he expected to burst into flames the moment he stepped into a chapel, but here he was, turning into a tree, looking for an exorcism. How times change.

So, God, Maker, or whatever, Greater Consciousness of the Force, that thing I've been putting my thumb into the eye of for the past few millennia, I've been told to come here and make the kissy-face with you, perhaps stub my toe on a few pews, really get the lamentation going, embrace that First Evil, Original Sin, Dancing Ultimate Darkness vibe down.

He snorted.

He'd met Darkness, and he was manageable.

Well.

Wapoe could lie to him, at very least.

He had noticed some chap in gold praying, which was why he'd kept most of his sarcastic diatribe internal.

It was hardly as if the Maker was going to intervene for him anyway, not without sticking him with some great Celestial Destiny and Wapoe had made it his business kill people with those kind of thought processes since before his own Twilight Wars.

But then the chap noticed Wapoe and he stood slowly.

His gait reminded him of someone; was it pained, or...?

“Welcome, sir. May the Lord of the Outer Cosmos grant you peace and what you seek. What brings you here?”

"Holy fierfek," Wapoe spluttered. If he'd been drinking he would have just comically spat it all over the man.

Well, man was a hard thing to describe this thing as.

"What in the Nine Corellian Hells are you doing here?" Wapoe's eyes could have just, with as much comedic value, popped out of his head and rolled away.

Olucard’s eyes narrowed in a non-threatening, stern manner.

“Please avoid mention of the Corellian Hells, if you could. We are within holy walls. By the way, there are 12, not 9.”

Olucard motioned for Wapoe to follow him off to the side of the altar, discretely so their voices would not disturb the congregation. The spectrum of Mother’s Song surrounded this Robed man. Olucard did not need to sift through it to tell that Wapoe recognized him; the man’s reaction revealed that.

“Do you know me from somewhere?”

Wapoe rolled his jaw. Twelve? He frowned a couple of times before he could speak again. “I mean, don’t you know who you are?”

There was a little thought that he could be one of the other ones, after all it wasn’t as if there was only one, and they’d only be retired after -

He shook off his thought processes. “I know someone who looks just like you, I could say. Do you have any relatives, perchance?”

“Relatives.” Olucard softly repeated and nodded his head, turning away from Wapoe. He was quiet for a moment before turning back. “No...No, I have no relatives. But I suppose you mean the other; the other one who made it through the trials.”

Wapoe was hesitant to say the name out loud, as if he would cause him to manifest.

“I suppose I do,” he managed to say neutrally. “The trials can create both light and dark, after all... not just Jedi or Sith.”

“Yes, they can. You must be the master... that is what you are known as in the other realities: The Jester, the Master of Shadows, and occasionally even the name you have here: Wapoe. Well, no matter in what form you have come, how can one such as I help you?”

Olucard did not know any of this. It was being revealed as he spoke with Mother’s Song. For she knew all and was speaking through him, Olucard being surprised at the nature of Wapoe even as he spoke it.

Wapoe peered at him. “You shouldn’t know about me. Does that mean your colleague knows?” If his face has been visible, he would have mouthed ‘Snoke’ at him.

It couldn’t be helped if he did. It wouldn’t help him much.

“But sure, I’m called Wapoe nowadays.” He shrugged, turned aside, hands held up in an exaggerated shrug. “I’m not sure if you can help little old me.” He placed his hands on his hips and glanced back. “I don’t get on with deities, especially ones in authority positions, you see - you might get in trouble with them if you do.”

The strandcast couldn’t help but smile.

“The one you speak of is no colleague of mine, Mr. Wapoe. But no, he does not know of you. I doubt even his true master does. They twist Mother’s Song for their own needs and ends, as do all Force users. The ones who do not, the ones who have been to the ends of the galaxy and the ones who were there at the beginning: The Father, the Son, and the Daughter... We understand Mother’s Song to be a source of energy that you engage in to move with, not take from.”

Mother’s Song... The true mother... Not that wretched being lying in wait in the twisted Maw.

Mother’s Song spoke through Olucard again.

“You seek the location of Mortis, but you cannot leave this place. I sense you are becoming part of this planet in a way that seems natural, but couldn’t be further from it. You have come into contact with the man from the Abandoned Time.”

“The Abandoned Time is a time that will come when the galaxy will forget Mother’s Song; will lose the ability to hear her at all. It is the end of history. That is what we of the Outer believe.”

Wapoe paused as he absorbed the words of not-Snoke. “I do need cleansing, yes. The End of Time will happen again, it’s inevitable. Until I can stop those who... abuse that song, it will simply keep occurring.”

It was true.

Regardless of how much input he’d had, an imbalance like Darth Sidious would have happened eventually, and the Father would have been sickened by that, and the Son and Daughter would have either be killed during the fall-out - or escape Mortis and kill everyone anyway.

He wanted to stop that.

Somehow.

Olucard could only smile. Mother’s Song is telling. The Song reveals all. The skeletal frame of the Head Priest walked to a back chamber door that opened to a small garden area away from the congregation in the center of the cathedral of the church.

The light from Vas Nihollia’s main sun beamed through the disparate leaves of the overhanging foliage that formed a natural “roof” above. Olucard knelt down to a small side pond on the right side of the door leading into the garden and stirred the pool gently with his finger. When he pulled his hand out, a few drops of water slid down from the finger into his palm. He held it in view of Wapoe’s hooded visage.

“You take on much on your person; as if the galaxy is under your protection alone. You are one drop of water in an ocean current of events through time and space, Mr. Wapoe.”

The droplets began to move along his palm in patterned motions, swiping by each other, altering each other’s paths, but always maintaining their individuality.

“I can tell by the way you speak of Mother’s Song that it is still a foreign concept. You may call it the Voice or the Force but we speak of the similar tendril of Mother’s Song and none of us fully understand it. You believe you have seen the End of Time but I assure you that... where this individual, the Outrider, came from, it is something that none of us would recognized.”

“Id like to tell you something, Mr. Wapoe. What you are assuming I am, is indeed true. I am not like the one known as Snoke, though we are the same. The only difference is that I found myself lost. I discovered the truth of our existence and lost purpose. I concluded that the only way for me to exist was to not exist at all. The more I learned about this galaxy and the Force, the more I felt that the violence was cyclical and that we were all destined to do this dance forever. But as I chose to end it all, I found myself at a place, by no meaningful action of my own, at the End of the Galaxy. That was where I learned of Mother’s Song and where I decided that my purpose in this life was to help those move with Mother’s Song in order to better their lives, instead of preserving orders or stopping wars or conquering planets. Simply to live better.”

Olucard wiped his hands on his robe and placed them behind his back.

“My apologies, your ailment. First, you should decide if leaving this planet is what you truly want to do. You could be of a great help to us here, Mr. Wapoe.”

Olucard spoke of living simply rather than grandly... in tune with the Force rather than cajoling it... and it was admittedly appealing to Wapoe.

But he couldn’t afford to be rooted to one world. It was one thing to choose to be here, another to have that choice imposed upon him. He might stay for a bit; his Eye was out there, in the hands of Darth Kronos, did he need to be active right now? As long as the medium of his existence survived, he could traverse along the timeline of Palpatine’s lightsaber for as long as he intended.

The End of Time foretold in the Holocron of Prophecy was merely the waypoint, after all.

He mused on Olucard’s words, and a had a flash of a future where they had meaning, and explained much. With a slight nod, the Black-Coat stepped to him.

“I would stay, and do good, but on my terms. I am uniquely placed to take responsibility for the future... but I cannot command the Force - or Mother.” He nodded to himself. “Tell me what I need to do, and I shall see what I can do. This ailment is my ending, but it is also a chance to learn that I can be something other than what I am.”

He looked down at his droid arm and squeezed the fist, servomotors quietly whirring. Tragedy had decided his Truth, but he would not allow it to define him, and those he ruined.

"Your ending?" Olucard closed his eyes, accepting and musing over Wapoe's words. "You of all people should know that there are always choices to be made. If you wish to stay on this planet, know that your time will be shortlived, but could be well worth it. These people are looking for hope in a very dark time in galactic history. You know what is to come. I can see it in your eyes. You could help guide these people, and the Huzonians, to a place of salvation. You seek peace, Mr. Wapoe. I think you know where these people could go to find it."

He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands.

"But, and I hesitate to say this, but Mother's Song is guiding me to speak the truth: There is a way to relieve your ailment. Essence transference...into a new body. Though when you assume a new body, another shall be left to this fate that has befallen your current body."

Olucard was saddened by his words. Mother's Song did not make mistakes. There was a reason he was telling Wapoe of his options. Wapoe could stay and help this community and the Huzonians. Or he could leave the planet to find Mortis and stop Sera, which he had vowed to try to do.

Wapoe hesitated. "I can't just steal a body. That'd be unethical. Nor can I conjure one out of nothing... the power of genesis is not one of mine," he said wryly.

"Sera needs to be stopped, Olucard," Wapoe said, using his name for the first time. "If he isn't, then more chaos will befall the Unknown Regions." He chuckled slightly. "I always found it funny that the Chiss call this space the Chaos. It's pretty accurate, but it is civilised in its own way."

The Known had had the Yevetha, the Ganks, the Porporites, the Stenax, the Yinchorri, the Sith, the Taung - it was hardly as if it would lose a competition with bad things, just because the Unknown had the Ssi-Ruuvi, Nikardun, Grysk, Lugubraa, Croke, Nagai and Tofs and civilised people called them the Terrors. That was before you pointed out the ultimate terror of the Galactic Empire had originated from the heart of the greatest civilisation that had ever existed.

"The Huzonians will have heroes of their own," Wapoe reasoned. "They need time and space to grow, and Sera and Minute and every other dark side madness out here will rob them of that."

The Master of Masters regarded the strandcast.

"So if you have an idea about a body... I hope you're not thinking what I am."

"There is a Chiss here. He has lost everything to the Unknown Regions: His mother has forsaken him and a Dark Sider took his beloved away to the unknown. He is without a purpose and only rots in jail here for crimes he felt forced to commit. Mother's Song says that he would welcome you and there is a slim possibility that his spirit can survive your integration."

Olucard looked to the skies. Long and thoughtfully as he waited for Wapoe's response.

"A slim possibility? Why slim? Is he mentally defective," Wapoe reasoned, amused. Olucard had given him an abridged version of things, right there.

He leaned forward. "What crimes are we talking about here? I don't want a new form to find that it's on-the-run - and traceable, at that."

Olucard continued to look skyward.

"His name is Von'Vanger. As I understand it, he is an heir to the Chiss Technology Corporation, the Vanger Corporation. His mother sent his betrothed to Vas Nihollia and sold her into a slavery operation that our Settlement had no idea existed until a few months ago. Von'Vanger came here and attacked several settlers here, trying to find her, thinking that we were part of his mother's schemes to keep them separated. Though we can understand his dilemma, the Constabulary and Council still had to punish Von'Vanger for his crimes. He was helping with our new settlement until a week or so ago, when a Dark Sider, named Hett, kidnapped her and left the planet. Since then, the young man has been broken. He is without family, without love, and without hope."

"A darksider, eh? Hopeless too, eh?"

Wapoe liked the sounds of that... for purely altruistic reasons, of course.

"I suppose," he drawled, picking at a wood growl on the back of his hand, piercing his glove. "I should ask about Hett. Kinda curious a dark Force user turns up where you are, dontcha think?"

“Not curious. Purposeful, Mr. Wapoe. After all, you found your way here, as well as the Huzonians, and all of the visitors Vas Nihollia has received in the past months. I gamble a belief that it is because of who I was created to be, that Mother’s Song has a path for me that I could never escape.”

Olucard finally looked back at Wapoe.

“Young Vanger is at the jailhouse in the Constabulary. A question, Mr. Wapoe, before you go... do you ever cross paths with the other survivor of the experiments that created us? The one known as Snoke.”

Wapoe was all ready to go before Olucard threw in that last one. He jolted. “I will, yes.”

“It’s hard to keep a good Snoke down.”

He sounded rueful.

“I don’t know if I’m going to meet you again, though. At the end of the day... just because I see the future... doesn’t mean I see everything.”

Wapoe saluted. “I coined the phrase, so I may as use it. May the Force be with you, Olucard.”

TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas, with a mention with @Darth Kronos.

 

With Pumas Approvalllll!

Name: Hattaska

Age and Appearance:
Personality: Taciturn (in a word)
Allegiance: Me.
Bounty (If not a member of the Guild): Guilds are for group-therapy sessions; not for honest work.
Personal Effects: Blasters, knifes, detonators, stun batons. Stuff.
Ship: Knife 9.



Bio: I work the Chaos of the Unknowns for whoever hires me. Sure, I can touch the Sight, or whatever it is the Chiss call it. I don't care. I stab, they bleed, doesn't matter what I stab them with, just how quickly I do. Who needs a purpose when there is no purpose to life?

 

OOC: Combo with our GM

IC Sabel, et al
Unknown World

Sabel woke, the sights, sounds, scents of a world filling his senses. As soon as that first input hit, he was upright, eyes casting around. He took in the weakening shell around the First Prince, sighing. He’d known it wasn’t a permanent solution but had hoped it would have lasted a slight time longer. As he was evaluating everything the Guard all seemed to spring to wakefulness at the same time. The five, including those that had been injured, stood, forming a ring around him. Octus moved closer to Alpha, perhaps unconsciously but it brought a slight smile to Sabel’s face.

His head cocked to the side and then straightened as the ‘Chiss’ approached Alpha. He felt the energy emanating from the man, whether it was his or he was an emissary of the one who had brought them here was another question, but the fact he stated that he’d come to retrieve him it spoke to the second. The Guard all stiffened, they felt the man’s power too and hulking but, for now, slowly moving Decimus as well as Dertiendus stepped closer to him.

Holding up a hand, ”This one has come for me, yes, my Guard. We have been brought here for a reason and I suspect they could easily dispatch all of you to ensure I meet their Master, if that is not the Master in disguise. So we must be gracious to our host.” A small smile crossed his face, ”However, I claim guest rights, and will respect hosts rights as well as long as all the forms are respected.” he said to his guide as he stepped forward.

Alpha grew physically ill and dropped to the ground. The Male Chiss looked down at her with condescension.

“Refrain from attempting to look into the future. Follow me, Lord Sabel, you may bring your ensemble if you wish. Including Colussia Hazard.”

The Chiss turned and began to walk away. He led the Admiral and whomever was brought along through a crowd. The walk was all of a minute long but Sabel would sense that every individual would give varying levels of the same Force presence that had pulled them here. All was clearly not as it seemed. Even the station itself, the world below seemed to emanate the Force presence and as they came to a halt outside a small coffee shop, the source of all of it would reveal itself. Sabel and his crew would have been completely oblivious to the presence until it chose to reveal itself.

The answer was both a what and a who.

“Are you familiar with the legend of the Mortis family, Lord Sabel?” The Male Chiss asked as he stood in front of the doorway and pivoted with military precision to face the Sith Lord.

Before Sabel could respond, Octus had gathered Alpha in his arms, giving a look to the others, daring them to say anything but none of the others did. Sabel had named her the new Sevetus after all and she was one of them now, even though she hadn’t been evaluated fully yet by them or him. They followed the guide, although the sense of everything around them spoke of only one true presence and the remainder as though they were but extensions of it.

When the question was asked he paused, thinking. A touch of a smile crossed his face, ”That question does explain what I’ve sensed as we walked here. Yes I know of the Ones. Which makes me wonder if just the Son is here or the Daughter too, or…” he shuddered slightly, ”the Mother.”

He kept his senses in tightly, if the Gods, as it were, were here then he did need to do so or they could burn him out without even trying. He told the Guards to do the same. ”It is an honor, of sorts, to be in their presence, but this is an interesting take on Mortis compared to all the myths of the place, or places, as they have lived in several locations.”

“You are not in their presence. They are dead, at least as far as what you can conceptually understand of their status. We do not speak of the Mother in his presence; Toy things of the celestials do not warrant mention to the Calamity. Please follow me.”

He would lead them inside and to a small back room where the presence sat calmly with a single tear running down his face at a sabacc table.



The Scourge of Wild Space, Dice, moved a bottle across the table to Sabel.

“Ah. My First Prince and her captor have arrived. Lets say we negotiate her release and what we can do for one another.”

Octus nodded to Twalvtus and the more medically inclined Guard nodded, pointing at a couch. Even as a pair seemed headed toward it Decimus lifted it with one hand, moving it closer to the table as Sabel sat. Octus nodded his thanks, laying Alpha gently upon it. Moving behind it his armored arms crossed his chest, a displeased expression on his face as he watched over her.

Sabel smiled slightly at the display. His Guards were way out of their league here but they would never admit. Their foolhardy confidence did not always pay dividends but that did not stop them. His head tracked back to the one sitting across from him, almost machinelike in it’s movement. The smile increased incrementally when the bottle slid across the table. Taking the cork, he sniffed it, an excellent vintage, and given guest rules he had to be as unfailingly polite as his host.

He poured a glass in silence, swirling the liquid, releasing it’s fragrance. There was no shifting from the Guards that remained behind him, they could have been statutes but he could sense them evaluating every being that wandered through the space. Finally, he let it settle, lifting it to his lips, his red eyes sparkling in what may have been a merry glance. Setting the glass back on the table, ”You wish the return of the Prince. I wish that those who had chosen to be my foes destroy each other and not me. I would not have made myself the foes of the Grysk or Syndicate save for a pair of scheming individuals.”

He sat back, ”I do actually understand a portion of your need for her.” He gestured to his people, ”If we compare, these are not close even to me in power, they could get there but are not. But place them against the best in the galaxy and they work similar miracles to what Colussia does for the Syndicate. Hence why forces conspire to have us at odds, and other minds choose to oppose me. Between jealousy, being despised, and being seen as the outsider by those I used to work for, they let themselves be or chose to be manipulated by a force to cause me to be placed in the Syndicates way. Ironically, one of them is now completely in my debt because of the other.”

Taking another sip, he raised the glass in a toast of sorts, ”So yes, let us negotiate. You want her, besides breaking every rule of guest rights to rip her from my grasp, or her breaking free to cause that chaos without your remit, what do you think I want in return?” he asked as one eyebrow rose. ”And no cheating by reading my mind.” he said, chuckling.

Tears flowed down The Scourge’s face and a frown formed on his face. Though... nothing about him seemed sad or disappointed. He genuinely listened to Sabel speak and thought on his words.

“I want her back because she is my boss. She is the first individual I’ve seen in 4000 years that has been capable of conquering this galaxy and I intend to help her do it. This would naturally place us at odds, no? That’s what a common mind would think. The First Prince is special and despite what the Force makes base beings believe, special is supremely rare.”

Dice’s tears stopped, in the middle of his face and from behind his glasses the Scourge began to raise the tension of all of the beings on the station and the planet below.

It felt heavy.

And Sabel would be in control, it would be a struggle, but he could sense the anxiety of his confused guards as they struggled to keep themselves calm. They felt like something was going to happen. That they needed to prepare themselves. To defend. To attack. Nervousness. Dread. Octus grew more and more defensive, his teeth began to bare. Not just at the strangers, but towards his own brothers and sisters and Sabel himself. Decimus’ muscles, roaring in pain from Abaddon’s damage, would tense up and he would take a step towards Dice, seeking to end the Scourge.

For ... what did Dice refer to them as... yes, base beings.

For base beings, this would require all their effort and Force mastery. Maybe even a large group of them with years and years of focus and training and will. But to Dice, to the Celestials of Mortis, and the false mother trapped, it was as simple as a whim. Dice was no Celestial. Though to Sabel it would make no difference. The Sith Lord would not be able to tell the difference between Celestial beings and an ancient predecessor ally species that helped the Galaxy be created. What was his frame of reference? Maybe he could. But then, he’d been unable to tell the difference between a droid, a force sensitive droid, and the Machine Sera back in Csilla.

Dice actually was not doing anything to raise the tensions; It was just the proximity to the Scourge that caused beings to behave this way.

Fog...

So much haziness...

Makes it hard for one to consider their surroundings...

...Colussia Hazard places her blade to Sabel’s neck and he can do nothing to sense it or stop it...

But... then she sits down... Dice says some words to her... she

Is drenched in sweat... the effect of the strain of her armor...

Instinct. Not consciousness.

She is unconscious now, beside Dice...

Now she is back in the orb that is under Sabel’s control...

“Lord Sabel.” Dice’s words summon the Sith Lord back to clarity. He is able to think clearly and the tensions of the world are still raised. But Dice is speaking and he wants to please Dice. Why would he not...

“You need to leave her here. I will help her grow and she will refine her craft and skills. She will leave your Unknown Regions and focus on Wild Space. You will know peace for a time, but then it will end. Maybe you will still be alive when The First Prince re-emerges or maybe you and your Order will be destroyed by some unforeseen interruption. But she will resurface and she will conquer everything this galaxy has to offer. This seems... fair. I think it’s fair. Can you think it’s fair?”

can you live with it?

Sabel shook his head as he came back to his senses. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at Dice now. ”Playing with my mind is a poor way to negotiate. It also is a gross violation of host rights.” he stated calmly, his shields stabilizing around his mind once more. He could feel the nagging on his mind from what Dice did and was continuing to do but the way his own mind worked allowed him to place it into a locked ‘room’ of his mind. His head turned again, looking over his Guards.

His hand lifted, a finger snapped, and as one all of his guards collapsed to the floor. Their conscious energy flowed into him, bolstering his own defenses, a trick that he’d developed in the years of exile and discoveries made. And each Guard knew this was part of the duty they owed their Lord. Turning back to Dice, ”Your reaction and response is not that of a developed being, no matter your age. More it is the childish tantrum of one who is endowed with vast power and has never learned to discuss with others without using it. Did you think that the one male ever truly recorded with Force ability in my kind would not have had to mature faster than any other? To learn how to deal with the spoiled children of the galaxy?” He sipped the drink once more.

”You need her, that is obvious. I do not, but I also do not desire to have this battle with her on a constant basis over the next several decades. And you cannot promise that she will be away from my space, as much as you say you can. Do you honestly think her nature would allow her to do so, now that we have faced each other directly?” his voice remained calm as he asked, even as his eyes blazed.

The tears resumed coming down Dice’s face.

“The First Prince began to establish.... her initiative in Wild Space by her own volition. She is not interested in facing you down simply for the sake of facing you down. She sees you as you likely see her: an issue in time that needs solving. I offer you a solution.”

The Scourge looked down at the First Prince’s orb. His face further descending into a deeper frown and veins began to pulse in his head.

“We are not here to negotiate her release as you understand it: it is not a matter of if you will release her, it is a matter of how and under what circumstances. I offer you that. I offer you the most precious resource for a being like you or Darth Sidious: time. Time between now and the end. Time for your Empire to rebuild itself. Do your master a favor. Buy him time. He needs it.”

Sabel chuckled, ”A famous general once said ‘Ask me for anything but time.’* It is quite true. And no I cannot keep her, I know that. She would be a constant drain on my resources, not to mention that your tame ape would keep disrupting my activities to try to rescue her.”

He sat back as he sipped from the drink again, ”I felt him die but I know Sidious, he would have a contingency, even for that. Which means his silence is purposeful and means he has been planning and preparing already. Even three years ago I ran into an abandoned station with one Sentinel droid aboard that demanded that I assist in restarting Operation Cinder. Obviously that did not occur but his plans have still been ongoing.”

Sitting back forward, ”Speaking of the ape, unless you provide a different route he will still be waiting outside this place, for me to appear and that would be unfortunate for whatever negotiations we make here.”

Dice leaned forward, contrasting the relaxed position he'd reserved himself to since Sabel and his entourage entered. He postured himself up with his elbows on the tables and wrapped his hands and his fingers into a pyramid in front of his face. A vein pulsed in his forehead.

"The Third Prince, yes, that is a problem you're going to have to figure out. I will give you a path to leave here that the Third Prince will not immediately be able to follow. It will take you near Exegol, if you're interested in seeing your old Sith Lord. As far as getting rid of the Third Prince, I'm afraid," Dice raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side for a prolonged period. "There's nothing I would ever do to harm one who has protected Colussia so well."

The small smile touched Sabel’s face. He was glad that Dice had made it so that he’d had to put his Guards to sleep. He knew their attitudes towards his former Master and they ranged from near idol worship to despising the man. He himself had felt the death of his Master years before but knew that the physical death would not have stopped Palpatine. He’d felt his Master’s power on and off, as though the man was staying to the darkness until such time as he believed it was time to return.

He sipped from his drink, finding a dark pleasure in how the conversation continued to wax and wane too, in the throb of Dice’s forehead vein. Gesturing at the cocoon, ”You may want to suggest to your extremely important asset that while her bodyguard may be nigh invincible there are ways to render him ineffective, as I just demonstrated.” Sitting back calmly, ”I may just take you up on that offer, to see where my old Master is in his current planning, if he decides he wants guests.”

A chuckle, ”Let the Grysk know though, that if your offer of time applies, any advances from them into my territory will be seen as a dissolution of our agreement. My other question though is whether you are behind the Chiss stupidity.” he let slip as though an accidental comment.

Colussia began to stir. Her armor having accessed an advanced protocol, of course, having to do with Dice, that made it feel like there was no longer pending danger and it was not initiating stages of freeing Colussia from the orb.

“I’m certain that you will try to defeat Abaddon. I wish you luck. I was just letting you know, as a courtesy, that I will do nothing to harm or inhibit the Third Prince. Do you not reward loyalty? As far as the Grysk, we have no control over what the Grysk do. However.... I will give you this: we will give them something else to focus on.”

The mention of the Chiss caused a smile to appear on Dice’s face. Sabel immediately realized his mind had slipped Chord’s name. Or had Dice pulled it out of the Sith Lord without him even feeling the penetration? Possibly during the hazy moment... how much time had passed during that moment. He couldn’t remember or account for...

“Chord.” Dice spoke with a growing grin on his face. “No... Colussia actually wishes to oppose them as well, and, as I want her to succeed in every way she desires, I would never help them. But the leader of the Chiss Intelligence Sector, you will know him as Chord, is as capable a mind as Colussia. He has what Colussia never did: a purpose and a people. You will have your hands full with him if he ever realizes your true allegiance. A warning: He has some very peculiar bedfellows. I’d avoid trying to eliminate him yourself.”

“Peace, then?” Dice extended his hand. His offer: the retreat of the Syndicate Supreme for a time; preservation of the Unknown Regions for the stumbling Imperial Remnant; and the freedom for Sabel to control the building of a new Empire to eventually confront his rival, Chord, on equal footing.

Sabel sipped his drink further as Dice spoke. He nodded at several points, including the comments about the Chiss. ”Hmmm, perhaps we could apply the maxim of the enemy of my enemy is my friend, in the future. At least as long as it takes to end one threat before the ‘falling out’.”

He noticed that the cocoon was almost finished with it’s duty. ”There is or will be a time and place to deal with Chord and his people. Already, his actions are assisting me, as it is, those that may have been on the fence about working with me are now allies, of convenience perhaps but allies still.”

He thought for a moment, then held out his hand, taking Dice’s in his grasp, ”Peace it is.” He looked at his Guards, slumped around the room, Alpha/Sevetus on the couch. ”If you do not mind drawing in your aura for a moment, I’d rather not have to exert myself in the Force as much as it would take to carry my people out of here.” he said, wryly.

Dice's presence vanished and he waved Sabel along.

"Run along, Lord Sabel. I wish you the best of luck in dealing with the Chiss. The Syndicate Supreme will no longer oppose you."

The Scourge looked at the Sith Lord for a moment longer before a wild grin spread across his face.

"It is... interesting. I've seen wars that you can't imagine. Genocides that lasted thousands of years. Killing is a child's game. Outwitting your adversary, dominating them. That is what makes the First Prince different. I wish you many years of success. Because when she returns, only the strong will survive, and even they will be dominated."

Sabel smiled slightly, knowing that the being before him had the depth of knowledge that he did but that nothing was written, set in stone. ”We shall see. Time is the ally of all, not just those considered the strongest. But while this has been...enjoyable, there are things to be done.” He nodded a farewell to the being, standing.

The Guards and Alpha revived, another small smile as Octus assisted her, and he led them back to the ship. There was much to be done and he had the routing that would allow them to see what his old Master was doing currently. At least before they returned to their own plans.

TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas


*Quote attributed to Napoleon

 

IC: Wapoe
Prison, two cells

He regarded two in the cells, fluttering a hand to bypass the immediate attention of the constable.

"Who are you? And what's going on out there?"

Wapoe rapidly returned his hand to his sleeve; it had wooden growths on it. It was growing worse.

"Violence, presumably. Did you want out?"

He pointed to the obvious darksider that was obvious.

"Or did you want him to kill you when he escapes?"

TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas

 

OOC: Part One of a two part combo. Fun with @The Jedi in the Pumas and @Sinrebirth

IC Xundel and Hattaska
Ugh, now who did that? Part 1 of the Combo

Xundel opened his eyes and groaned. It took a moment as his eyes were crusty with already drying blood, even as more dripped down into them. He could hear a cacophony of sound around him that spoke of war. The first thing he tried was to reach up and Heal what had to be a wound on his head that the blood was coming from but there was a problem, the Force felt distant, almost untouchable, which, given his mission, was quite odd.

He reached around until he found a blaster on the ground by him. The barrel felt hot which is just what he needed. Pointing it down into the pile of bodies he found himself on he fired it several more times making the barrel even hotter before a deep growl came from his throat as he held the searing hot barrel to his forehead, cauterizing the wound and stopping the flow of blood.

The blaster fire began to rain down on him and he grabbed the handle of his cane, rolling from the pile. His saber leapt to his hands, swinging it with one to deflect incoming bolts, he used the cane to slow his fall from the pile of bodies. Moving from one corpse to the next he headed toward another pile that he saw was shifting. He had no idea if the person that may still be alive there was friend or foe but in numbers there was more of a chance of survival than alone.

He reached the pile, poking it with the cane, ”You alive in there or not? If you don’t get out…” he grunted as he had to jump and land on the other side of the pile when a more powerful bolt came too close, ”we may both end up as chum.”

Hattaska hurt.

A lot.

He lay there in the mud for a moment, not moving, examining his surroundings and himself. One broken rib, a bruise to his ankle which might be worse than it seemed, and innumerable cuts that wept and were likely already infected from the fiery agony that swept through him.

Not bad, all in all.

But when he hurt, he wanted to hurt back, and so when his inert behaviour was interrupted by an alien, the most he could do was look up and narrow his eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re not shooting at me or you’d already be dead.” He rolled over onto his back, released a sigh, and growled as the movement lit more nerves with pain. As it was, a bolt skipped across where he’d just been laying. “I’m also blaming you for me now being shot at. I was a happy corpse. I probably would have survived the battle.”

He reached for his blaster and shot back, a cry sounding out over the cacophony of the battle. “I don’t know where I am or why I’m being shot at.”

On cue, a blaster bolt burned across Hattaska’s face. A near miss. Xundel’s deflection saved him from the same fate, but the firing from all sides was starting to intensify.

The air of the battlefield grew hotter as more blaster fire accumulated in the space. Bodies upon bodies started to fall and the survivors were beginning to turn to melee weapons and outright attacking. One such woman slashed through several of the soldiers that seemed to be in control of the space.



3...

7....

15...

She was barbaric elegance as she moved through the battlefield and eventually she landed in front of Xundel and Hattaska. She looked thru them, as if they were barely there; her eyes glossed over. Her sabers in both her hands, she gave Xundel a moment to ready himself before she reached out to crush both he and Hattaska with the Force.

”That makes two of us.” Xundel replied, a touch of sarcasm and humor in his tone as he replied to Hattaska absently. His attention had turned to a figure approaching, even as he deflected a bolt. The woman seared across the battle, striking down trooper after trooper. The entire time she approached he was reaching out, to touch the Force. It still felt distant but another sensation reached him, ’Allow me…’ whispered in his mind.

It did so just in time as she stopped before them, raking her gaze over them. One of his long ears twitched as he felt her reaching into the Force, obviously she was able to touch it more easily here than they could. As her power quickly gathered the corner of his mouth turned up. The power swet over them and he curled into a ball over his cane, moaning as though in pain.

He allowed the façade to stand for several long moments even as his mind reached out to the abrasive one he’d first met, ’This should be...fun.’ he sent to the man.

His head lifted, as though fighting through her power, which to a decent extent he was. As his face lifted toward hers he opened his eyes and his normally red eyes had shifted, were now a swirl of greys. The grimace on his face slowly faded and a soft smile replaced it. ”There yes, pressure right there.” he groaned out as he stretched slightly from one side to the other. ”I know not who you are, but attempting to kill me is a poor means of greeting.”

Hattaska was a bit more magnanimous.

“Idiot,” he rasped through the Force choke. His mind blazed; she had skew so many -

With a snarl, he drove his will against her, intending to crash through the crushing sensation -

His Force prowess met hers and through the interaction, Hattaska would feel that no emotions were emitted from the woman. She was not drawing from the Light Side or Dark Side of the Force; she was completely without feeling or emotion. Even killing them did not change how she felt; to her, killing them was as neutral as petting a cat.

She was strong and Hattaska would notice that when he drew on the Force, despite how distant it felt, he could access his full power through the strain. He would need it as the woman’s pressure was crushing Xundel, the small humanoid would feel his bones beginning to crack and not in a good way. Hattaska may have been able to match her but he wouldn’t find out because at the sound of a loud blaring:

“STOP! YOU HAVE COMPLETED PROCESS 2! NOW COMMENCING THE 12 HOUR REPRIEVE!”

The Force pressure stopped, most of the shooting stopped, and the armored soldiers lowered their weapons and began clearing their blasters and joking with one another. The response by the other combatants was less joyful: some broke down crying, others simply stared off into the distance, at nothing, and some maintained their weapons until they understood that no more fighting was being done.

The woman deactivated her lightsabers and sat down on the ground, her motions measured and precise.

Xundel and Hattaska would still be confused about where they were and what was going on, but it was clear that combat had come to a pause between the many different factions. Upon further observance, they would notice that the sky, while possessing clouds, if one peered and focused, there was a ceiling many kilometers high. There were far mountain ranges above the buildings of the area but large metal walls, also kilometers high, were all around them.

Hattaska hesitated, his concentration broken, but he did not like this.

He stared at the woman, and then looked around for the source of the noise.

"Where in the Nine Corellian Hells are we and why shouldn't I kill everyone here right now?"

Xundel shook his head as the pressure was relieved. He’d fought the power the woman had and he could feel the bruises forming as he’d attempted to not use his full power to fight her. Something was certainly off here. The announcement made him frown and he looked up, seeing the far distant ceiling. He groaned, then heard Hattaska speak.

”A better question, is she the gamesmaster or is she his champion that she has such power when others should at least equal her?” he asked. Gesturing around, ”She, or someone else, has brought beings from all over the galaxy to fight. But for what purpose?” he continued.

”And, I suspect, any attacks that take place in this announced pause period will be dealt with severely. So, if you do so, let me wander off so whatever retribution that happens happens only to you.”

He looked at the woman again, letting his senses roam around them so that if any others seemed to be getting close he’d be prepared, ”So, what is it, champion, jailer, or just another captive here trying to stay alive?”

The woman turned to Xundel. Her eyes...He would've remembered them glowing red, not in a figurative sense, but in an actual real sense, like there was a red light behind them. Cybernetics. However, as she looked upon him now, they were normal.

"I am Anno. I saw your ship when it was captured a day or so ago. Surprising that both of you have survived while unconscious; Not the first time I've seen the strategy work, but the first to be successful for so long. I am a captive here, like you. I am just in no rush to leave. I sought this place out because my employer lost something here. I am to retrieve it. The rules are as obvious as they seem: When the reprieve is over, it is all out battle. The only way to win is to kill every other combatant or escape. The Rangers, the uniformed and organized force, are the hand of the Game Master. He bets every cycle that they will be victorious in eliminating every captive. They have never lost."

"Game Master," Hattaska said, snorting. "All out battle."

"This seems like a fool's game. What does the Master gain for such a show? Entertainment?"

He shook his head. "Someone else gets to make the if we work together we can escape speech." He waved at them as he walked off. "I'm out of here."

“You misunderstand. I am not interested in making some alliance. I have my orders and will follow them until job completion. I have my escape plan and anyone that is near me at the end of the reprieve is fair game. Until then, I suggest you get a lay of the battlefield.”

She peered at Xundel. “You should be careful, little one. Your species is exotic and the game master may have other plans for you.”

Xundel rolled his eyes, both of those he’d run into seemed like singular beings, so focused on their one little thing that they couldn’t or wouldn’t focus elsewhere. ”I’m not going to give some sort of motivational speech and I didn’t ask whether you wanted to ally or not. But you did actually answer my question as well as foolishly gave that one,” he pointed at Hattaska with the tip of his cane, ”reason to chase me all over the battlefield here rather than figure out how to get out of here. That would be the only reason I’d work with a meathead with severe anger issues.”

He sighed, ”Is it truly a fracking surprise that your boss has some sort of plan for me. If that is so, attempting to kill me may turn out to have been a bad idea. But also tells me I need to fully scan my seemingly workable ship over there,” his cane swung toward his fighter, ”if I want to use it. I’m sure it’s been disabled in some way.”

“But, if you’re going to get back to your previous activities then perhaps it is best I do as meathead is doing and just take off.” He turned and leaped onto the nearest pile of bodies then to the following.

Hattaska glanced back. “I can always kill you now if you’d rather not wait?”

Xundel looked up, then around at the complete lack of any firing or battle going on in the ‘cease fire’. He grinned as he turned to look back at the man, ”Something tells me that would be an inordinately boneheaded thing to do, on your part during this ‘intermission’. But you’re welcome to try.”

“Says you,” Hattaska growled. “It would seem logical that I should kill the competition off ‘between’ games rather than wait.” He glanced at the woman. “You too.”

Xundel sighed, spinning around, facing Hattaska. His eyes flared grey, ”As he said, you are welcome to try.” a soft voice said, calmly. As his eyes shifted again the tip of his cane poked the bodies below him, hard enough to puncture flesh several times, ”I told you not to do that…” he growled, obviously not to either of them. He glanced at Hattaska, ”Something tells me there are rules to this place and not killing in the breaks is one.”

"Oh, so you won't fight back, in-case I break the rules?" Hattaska sneered. He turned fully and stepped back. "Thank you."

Anno’s eyes went back and forth between the two.

“I’ll say that while I know that there is a punishment for breaking the reprieve, assuming death is plausible but, seeing as no has been bone headed enough to try, I’d welcome the opportunity to see what happens. However, unlike you, I do not need to kill during the breaks. Small one,”

She gestured at what she assumed was Xundel’s ship.

“Can you determine if it is operational?”

As she asked the question, multiple patrolling craft flew overhead, one shining a blue light on Hattaska, analyzing him before moving on.

Hattaska hesitated. "I don't like being scanned."

He waved his fist at the patrol craft. "I have personal space! Respect it!"

As Xundel glanced up at the patrol craft, waiting to see if one or more of them decided to scan him, ”Meathead, I never said I’d not defend myself, just that it would sort itself out if you did.” he replied calmly.

At the woman’s question, his gaze moved, from the craft overhead to his sitting not too far away. ”As long as the astromech isn’t corrupted as well, I can have him scan the ship to be sure it’s fully functional or not.” he whistled sharply and, as the droid's dome turned, whistled out a series of notes, a few sounds like beeps in between. It whistled back and began to work.

Hattaska looked at the ship. “Well, is it working? I don’t speak puny droid. He growled.

The astromech whistled back a few long seconds later, during which Anno came to stand beside Xundel. The woman was taller than Hattaska; her muscles toned and defined. Her hands were callused and there was bruising on her knuckles, no doubt from the combat of the large “game” they were apart of.

Xundel would hear good news: the ship was fully operational, though there was now a tracker placed inside the ship’s computer. It would not hamper operations and the astromech postulated that if it was removed(if it could be removed) that the ship’s computer would be negatively affected.

Xundel chuckled, ”He doesn’t like you either.” Turning toward the woman, ”Except for the tracker I’m assuming the Game Master had installed, why does everyone want to know exactly where I go, the ship is perfectly fine.”

He popped the canopy, and began the startup sequence, ”How much longer do we have until the ceasefire is done?”

Hattaska eyed Anno, tempted to cut her throat open, standing so close.

He glared at Xundel until he translated, and then back to Anno.

"We could just leave."

Xundel eyed the woman, ”I doubt it will be that simple, but it is worth a shot.”

The droid whirred and beeped, making him chuckle again. ”Yes, I know, but he’ll be good long enough for us all to escape. And yes I know you’d fly it into the ground if he tried the treachery route. I need to have your emotive circuits checked when I get a chance.” he muttered back to it.

Turning back to Hattaska, ”Well, get in then, if we’re doing this…”

Hattaska pulled a face. He hated this. He wanted the Knife 9 back, for one. A finger was jabbed at the two of them.

“Any funny business,” his tone was murderous. “Then I gut you.”

As he walked aboard he even threatened the astromech.

Xundel clambered into the flight couch he’d had built that fit his size, tightening the straps around him. He glanced back at Hattaska, ”Well, if you and Cutter back there can get along at all, then all will be good.”

He glanced past the man, toward the warrior woman, ”And you, coming with or do you have a reason for staying here?”

Hattaska brightened up. “Cutter?” He liked that name. “Is he one of those astromechs modified into a murderbot?”

Behind them there was a whirring and Cutter had extended an arm, a spinning, razor sharp disc at the end. If it were possible it could be said that the droid was radiating a sense of amusement.

Xundel glanced back, ”We agreed, no threatening people who join us, unless they try something.” There was a disappointed whistling before the arm and disc retracted. ”At least he didn’t call you a meatsack like he did the last person on the ship.” he told Hattaska.

“I will join you. I have not seen this place from an aerial point of view since arriving.” Anno said as she walked aboard and took a seat, watching Hattaska and the droid banter with patient and alert observance.

Above the battlefield, they would see that, even from hundreds of meters high, the area had no end in sight. They would now see a metal roof and the metal walls in the distance became more prominent. They were in an atmospherically diverse enclosed structure. Anno scanned around over Xundel’s shoulder.

“Careful.” She warned. The flying patrol craft were allowing Xundel’s ship to operate but were hanging cautiously near, slowing their normal trajectory.

In the distance was a large body of water, a safe zone as there were no other ships, as far as the trio knew, that could navigate the waters. A large square opening in the ceiling, black in its darkness, was clearly an exit.

Xundel kept the craft on the same level of the patrol craft, for now, slowly drawing closer to the opening that he’d seen. From this height most of the battlefield was laid out to their view. He kept an eye on the patrollers, knowing the moment they broke for the opening that it would get hairy.

Looking back at Cutter, ”Your sensors are better than my eyes so alert us the moment they begin to close the distance.”

He glanced at his two companions. ”We have a chance, however slim. If we do get free I have no idea what lays beyond that exit and we’ll all have to be alert for any threats.” he told them.

His hand stayed on the power levers, ready to push them to the stops, as he let the ship drift higher, it’s course still seemingly random but always slightly closer to the exit.

Hattaska rolled his eyes. He held out his hands and twitched his sense in the Force. His teeth grit, but an illusion began to spring up, duplicating the ship’s interior first, intending to push out and create a second copy of them.

“Amateurs.”

It was one hell of an exertion, but impressive nonetheless (hopefully).

Xundel chuckled but allowed the man to exert himself so, use his power to create the illusion. He could have done so himself but he was busy flying and preparing to get them out of the enclosure as soon as the illusion was prepared and they could bolt for the exit, under a vanishing illusion.

“Ready to push it,” Hattaska said, gasping. He had to run two illusions, one of their ship, and one concealing them. “Can’t hold it for long though, but I’m doing all the hard work so no surprises there.” He dug his fingers into the chair armrests, teeth smashed together, thick veins pounding on his throat -

Xundel chuckled once more at Hattaska’s comment and, just before he push the throttles to their limit, before he began the climb, his eyes flared a swirl of greys and he reached out in the Force, their version of his ship vanishing from sight as the illusion continued the path he’d taken.

The nose came up and they would be pressed back in their seats as he pushed his little ship to the limit to make it to and through the exit before their opponents thought to check their scanners for the tracker they’d installed, if it had been them. He too began to sweat with exertion to maintain the illusion that they weren’t there but they were so close, almost to the exit.

The ship entered the hole in the sky undetected by the patrol ships. For several seconds, there was nothing around them but darkness. There was nothing to use to determine how far they had gone and no ray of light at the end.

Just black nothingness.

Then, red lights along the walls of the tunnel came to life. The tunnel stretched into the distance and it was amazing how far the structure seemed to extend upwards.

“It would seem that our defection has been noted.” Anno, who had been leaning forward intently looking for any sign of something, stood straight up and folded her arms.

Xundel’s ship went dark and they began to fall.

Hattaska lolled in his chair, drained from his efforts. “Fat lot of good you two are. Do something already, would ya?”

Xundel nosed over the ship, getting the smallish wings to bite the air that was present. As it began a spiralling glide he reached down, beginning to pump a handle furiously. One eye remained on the indicator of the emergency power unit, as it climbed, the friction of the glide and the pumping powering it up. Over his shoulder, ”Do you ever not complain?” he growled.

The indicator reached full and he clicked the pump handle back into place, reaching up and hitting the starter-ignitor. It took several tries before it caught and the engines roared back to life. The stopped the downward descent and kept them at a circling path, just inside the maw of the supposed exit. Glancing back over his shoulder he looked at the woman, ”Very interesting you knew that before the power was cut to the ship.”, he muttered darkly.

"Very interesting," Hattaska added, sitting forward in his chair and producing a vibroblade.

Anno eyed Hattaska out of the corner of her eye before returning them forward to Xundel.

“Red lights are typically an indicator that someone has been alerted, little one. For example, take your center console display.”

Eights red dots appeared on the console. Targeting alarms. Just below where Xundel stopped the ship because the tunnel opened up to the battlefield below eight of the patrol trips were waiting with lasers trained on the lone defector.

“It was worth a try, little one. The tracker in your ship likely is set on a perimeter limit. It has been wired into your ship, explaining the engine's shutdown.”

“Likely, eh?” Hattaska growled. “Are we ready to space her yet, gremlin?”

Xundel kept the ship circling, letting the targeting lasers paint them. ”Cutter has backup to run everything so the question is, lady, how fast can you remove the tracker, since I’m sure you know where it is, as Cutter keeps this thing aloft. Oh and while I build up speed to dive us into that ocean we saw. I’d say you have, hmmmm, three minutes at the most.”

Cutter whistled, he was prepared for what was to come. Xundel nodded, eyes glowing a bright grey suddenly, an aura of force power, likewise, growing around him. He smiled wickedly, ”Hattaska, have the knife ready, you may get to use it.” as he jammed the throttles forward, diving, spinning, and looping as he danced through the fire that began to spray at his ship, heading toward the water.

“Don’t we have some guns for a gunner aboard this hunk of junk? Unless you’re too busy acting like the only person who can fly or shoot?” Hattaska growled, leaning forward and looking for a control. He hated sitting back and doing nothing - and getting ready to maybe stab someone was basically the same.

A first impact, quickly followed by a second, rocked the underbelly of the ship as Cutter chirped wildly that he’d located the tracker. The blasts knocked the ship off its trajectory and another laser to the wing sent the ship barrel-rolling at an awkward angle towards the water below.

Anno stabilized herself with the Force and eyed Hattaska and his blade. Her hand darted outwards toward him to choke the man just as the ship crashed into the water. With the velocity of the plummet and the weight of the ship, they quickly sank into the depths and Xundel would catch glimpses of a few ships following them to their possible watery grave.

Xundel shook his head, of course they’d start fighting now… They were sinking but luckily the hits they’d taken hadn’t holed the cabin. Cutter’s tweetling told him what he needed to know. ”Cutter, take out the tracker.” As the engine cut out once more because of the trackers removal he began to pump the emergency restart.

Looking over his shoulder, ”If you two hotheads can stop fighting for long enough, as soon as Cutter gets the power back there’s a weapons station there.” he pointed to the right to a small station. ”And there’s a small turret there.” He pointed over his left shoulder at the small bubble.

They sank deeper and deeper and he could see the other ships approaching their silent ship as well as the bottom coming up slowly. And then Cutter shrieked, a sound that was almost joy. The lights flickered and then the absolutely delightful sound of the engines coming up reached his ears. ”Take those stations, but first I have a surprise.”

He added a touch of reverse thrust, slowing even more, the other ships closing faster. One hand held the thrusters and the other hovered over a button. ”Better strap in to those stations.” he warned, seeing them still struggling, shaking his head. ”Or you can break some bones when I go to full throttle.”

The ships reached their range, and his. His smile was dark and full of teeth as his finger mashed the button. A small canister launched from the back of his ship and he punched the throttle, pressed back in his seat as they began to pick up speed in the water, arrowing toward the surface.

Hattaska's warning sense in the Force went haywire, even as he struggled to breath. He threw his knife at her - and brought the hand down smoothly to strap himself in as the shockwave hit the ship -



The knife hung in the air.

Everything still.

Anno's outstretched hand.

Xundel's weird smile.

Hattaska's grimacing at the velocity.

Then a ship smashed in Xundel's ship before it could reach its full speed. Smashing through the vessel and ripping it half underwater.

Leaving the inhabitants at the mercy to the watery depths.

As the ship hit his and began to slice through it Xundel’s hands flashed around. One hit the ejection button for Cutter, letting the droid free. The other popped open a panel, pulling out a rebreather. Slapping it into place he began to breathe through it even as the water raced in around them. His cane slapped his leg as it was almost pulled with the sinking sections of his ship. Grabbing it he slid the shaft of it through his belt, hanging in the water.

He sank slightly as the displacement of the water by the halves of his ship pulled at them all. He saw the other two in the water as well but what caught his eye was the ship that had smashed his. He could see the bridge and the personnel behind the viewscreens. Glancing down into the dark water the water around him began to bubble slightly, then heavier and heavier, the water actually beginning to boil around the little imp. His eyes flashed a deep red and then the swirls of grey began to impose themselves in the color, yet the water boiled still.

’Built that ship by hand, know every rivet and bolt…’ he fumed in his mind. His arms reached out, backs of his hands facing each other. Power flowed forth, buoyed by his anger, by his annoyance. The other ship began to screech, the noise tinny in the depths. Sparks and light began to appear, in a line just above the viewscreens. A large enough gap created he let go the power before spreading his arms, a smile behind the rebreather.

Pushing his arms back together, he Pushed the water, into a spearpoint of energy, which struck right into the gap he’d created. The smile was one of satisfaction as the gap split, widened, ripped the ship apart, ’A start…’ he thought before he pushed at the water under himself, rising in a column of still superheated water, broaching the surface, flipping in the air, and ‘flying’ until he landed on the shore, nearby where Cutter had landed, falling to a knee, using the cane retrieved from his belt to support himself after that exertion.

Hattaska was rocked against the confines of his restraints, shook enough to lapse into unconsciousness for a moment, before the water shocked him awake. He wasted seconds acclimatizing himself to the new surroundings, managing to locate his knife be sense rather than sight and he drew it to snap the restraints so he could kick off the seat and up -

He paid Xundel and Anno no heed at this point -

"HANDS UP! REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE!"

The booming voice rained down on Xundel and the surfacing Anno. Dozens of black armored troopers, in Imperial Stormtrooper armor, surrounded them with weapons raised. One unmasked, assumedly the leader, maintained his blaster pistol on Xundel as he pressed a finger from his off-hand to his ear, overhearing instruction. He was dark-haired and non Force-sensitive, mid 30s, and only broke his gaze on Xundel when a peculiar figure appeared from the ranks of troopers to stand beside him.



"...Uh huh....Yes...And it appears the little one is quite the Force-user...I see. Understood." The feminine feline humanoid walked closer, but not too close between the troopers and Xundel. She eyed Anno for a moment, considering her, appraising her, to be more accurate. Her eyes returned to Xundel.

"We have several interested parties in you, little one. Would you care to retire from the game and come with me? The buyers would rather you not be harmed."

Hattaska pulled a face. "And what am I?" He huffed, rolling his shoulders to rough out any pain he felt. "Chopped Bantha?"

The man had not raised his hands, instead looking murderously peeved.

Xundel pushed himself up, the cane assisting. He eyed the troops, a touch of a smile upon his face. When the cat-woman appeared, his brow furrowed as it raised. Straightening, his back arched as a chuckle came to his lips at Hattaska’s response. He back popped as he straightened, shoulders twisting back and forth. Looking up into the felinoid eyes he hooked a thumb at the, obviously, outraged man.

”Chopped Bantha over there does have a point. He’s no slouch in the force, take him and let them enjoy his abrasive personality. As long as it means I can get out of the craziness of this games master’s world without having to kill anyone of import.”

The feline humanoid looked at Hattaska and it was clear she did not think much of the man. She turned to the troop leader, he pressed a finger to his ear and gave a nod, then she turned back to face the odd pairing, plus Anno.

“The ugly one can come as well. We have no interest in the woman; she will remain here.”

A speeder transport touched down beside the group and the feline and troop commander boarded. The other troops maintained their blasters on Hattaska and Xundel and would remain doing so until they moved accordingly. Anno remained motionless and stoic, aware that one wrong move would mean a confrontation with the guard force - a conundrum she couldn’t afford at the moment.

“She’s with us,” Hattaska said gruffly. He wasn’t sure why he did. But he did.

Xundel shook his head, Hattaska was a hothead but he wasn’t wrong. He could see that the troops were extremely wary of the two of them, the blasters alone, pointed at them, told that. So he stayed exactly where he was standing, ”What he said,” he waved a hand toward Hattaska, ”As dysfunctional as we may appear, we are a crew, a team. Where one goes we all go.”

"Yeah," Hattaska huffed. "What he said."

TAGS: @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Sinrebirth[/QUOTE]

 

OOC: Double Post approved, and here is Part Two of the combo

IC Xundel and Hattaska
Onboard the Artemis Cradle, Part 2 of the combo

Xundel, Hattaska, and the mysterious Anno board the transport. The speeder ride rises high above the clouds of the warzone and a loud alarm blares to life as the ascend into the hole in sky. The battle below resumed and the lights of blaster fires and sounds of explosions faded as they rose. The speeder transport ride is just over half an hour. The feline and the troop commander speak scarcely to each other and say nothing at all to their three passengers.

There is only darkness outside of the transport. The trio Force sensitive passengers would feel a sensation of heat, extreme heat that non-Force users could not sense. Then the speeder rises through an opening and a small city and landing pad soon greets them.



The speeder transport touched down the feline was the first to leap off. She gestured for the trio to follow her and ignore their surroundings. The troop commander raised his rifle towards Hattaska’s chest, strongly encouraging them to follow and not stray.

Anno touched down and marched forward after the feline, turning back over her shoulder to watch Hattaska and say:

“I’m with you, huh?”

"More bodies to absorb blaster bolts meant for me," Hattaska grunted, as he eyed the surroundings.

Unlike her, he was more interested in them than the next lump of flesh with a name-tag attached to it.

Xundel stayed close to them both as the still nervous troops guided them out, after the felinoid. At Hattaska’s comment he chuckled, ”Ignore the grump, you think we’d leave you there after you risked all to assist us? Nope, we’re a team whether he thinks anyone is a meat shield or not.” His eyes shifted around, trying to take in any of the scenery as they walked, trying to figure out if he knew where they were just by seeing the inside of the place.

Before Xundel's scan of the area could retrieve sufficient data, they were led down a guarded hallway, with their entrance sealed behind them. The trio could not sense much beyond the walls and rooms they passed. The feline stopped at a terminal and inserted some information before a door opened up and they all entered a sanitizing room. Heated vapors filled the room before the next door opened to revealed a scene out of a mid-rim cantina.



There were many species among the 20-25 inhabitants and there all sipped and watch their datapads or the floating screens of the battle the trio had departed. Bets were being placed and occasionally individuals were being highlighted and cheered.

"Have a seat, Lord Balros will meet with you shortly. Please do not interfere with the actual guests." The feline walked off and the troop commander took a seat at the bar and ordered. Anno did as she was told, crossing her legs and waiting.

"Welcome to the 11th Floor of the Artemis Cradle." A small woman walked up to Xundel and Hattaska with a gentle expression.



"My name is Olio Pascadora. I am the Deva of this floor. You three have quite the bidding going for your ownership rights!"

Hattaska growled. “You say this as if we should be happy to be owned. As if we should crow victory ‘cos we’re worth more creds.” He squeezed his hands into fists. “Still slaves, ain’t we?”

“Yes, you are Hattaska. Why is that a problem? Freedom is overrated. Try to rethink your current situation. Would you really rather be thrown into the violent nothingness of the Unknown? Or off serving an Empire or some religious extremists like the Jedi or the Sith?”

The Deva summoned a tray of drinks, grabbed one, as the Bothan waiter waited to see if anyone else would care for a beverage.

Xundel chuckled, summoning a drink from the tray. It didn’t matter what it was, but something cool would be a good thing in a throat parched from all the recent battling. He glanced at Hattaska, ”How often has making you a slave worked out for people? And I know how that is for me. However, finding out who these beings that seem to think they can could be useful information.”

He turned his gaze on the Deva, ”Yes I know this place and what it is. As to being lost in the violent nothingness of the Unknowns...before you lot decided I was a plaything, I was existing very well out there, on my own. And most polities knew not to bother me.”

The Deva almost chuckled as she covered her lips with two fingers and smiled. She knelt to one knee to meet Xundel at eye level.

She’d heard this before. Many, many beings had boarded the Artemis Cradle in the past 20 years since she’d arrived. Olio looked deep into Xundel’s eyes, both individually colored, and thought to herself that he was like many that had come before, yet, like them, also unique. It reminded her how diverse the Deva Group was and how they still were United.

“I could play the role of mysterious stranger and allude to how you have very little idea of what the Artemis Cradle truly is. Though I have never been very good at mind games, so I will be upfront: You are not a plaything, Mr. Xundel. You are… a tool, like we all are. Like the Force is a tool, both sides, all sides, not too dissimilar to a very fine blaster. We are all tools for specific purposes. Consider this auction and it’s interested parties a search for the right tool. A willing avatar of the Force, a darksider with complex loyalties and a hard on for violence, or a cyborg assassin just trying to do its job… It should be an honor to be of service to others.”

A ringing sound beeped on Olio’s datapad. She looked down… Bidding was coming to a close.

"Hattaska does whatever he wants." He didn't take a beverage; he would imbibe when he was sure it was safe, especially as the Deva had taken the first and probably only unpoisoned one. "I don't care who I do the slaughter for, but I do it for me first and foremost."

Xundel glanced over at Hattaska, chuckling deeply. ”Perhaps we should get the medics here. When someone starts referring to themselves in the third person that’s a sign of a bit of mental fatigue, at least.” he said, teasingly.

He glanced back at the Deva, ”And what sort of being would be after three such ‘tools’ as you called it? We are a disparate group, of course, but there are connection points that make each work better together than apart.” he said softly as he looked into her eyes from such a close range.

Another ring on her arm. The Deva only saw 3 names in the bidding now. She stepped closer to Hattaska and reached to squeeze his bicep.

“Unlike the other two, your reputation does not precede you. I suppose that to survive you would have to latch onto others.” She blinked at him several times before looking down at Xundel.

“Let’s see: Yorash is one of the bidders. He’s in charge of the Bounty Hunter’s Guild expansion into the UR. While they have not formally been invited aboard the Cradle, we have tolerated their existence. Baron Singer Kash is the Lord of the Jormungand: a mighty Starship who is in a war of profits with the Grysk. I assume he is looking for powerful underlings to serve him in the upcoming battle. Lastly, there is Hun Ruun. A former Inquisitor for the Empire.”

She pressed a few buttons on her arm. She didn’t make eye contact as she said: “No escape plans for the group?”

Anno stayed silent. She was working one out to completion in her head. Her employer had not sent her here to be bought into slavery.

Hattaska sniffed at Xundel. “Hattaska is tired. Of your face.” His eyes slightly shifted at the mention of Grysk. “Even I know not to mess with Grysk.”

He began to claw his hand into a Force motion -

Xundel sighed, ”True, the Grysk are not to be messed with.” he said softly as he brought the knob of his cane down on Hattaska’s moving hand. He could sense Anno planning and if their fight, real or otherwise, aided in that effort then that would be of great use. His eyes met Hattaska’s, ”You are quite the pain in the backside, ugly. I wonder, should I have let you be left back there?”

Hattaska paused. “I thought I saved you.”

Another chirp and Olio finished her glass of champagne then handed the trio three access cards.

“The bidding has ended. You will be meeting the Baron at his dock in the 16th sector shipyard. It is on this floor and a speeder’s ride away. I-… Yes, I’m pretty sure at least one of your will arrive there safely without attempting any kind of escape plan. If so, I, as Deva, would have to hunt you down to enforce the contract. Make it easy: serve the Baron for his trip, get your freedom, and chalk this inconvenience up to happenstance in the UR.”

“The Baron is fighting a profit war with the Grysk,” Hattaska repeated. “You meet a single Grysk, and they’ll get in your head and turn your entire species inside out. I heard they tried to steal the first Death Star. Is the Baron mad?”

He looked at the other two. “Have we listened to enough yet?”

Glancing at Anno, ears drooping in a nod, Xundel turned back to Hattaska, ”Oh I believe we have. The hospitality here is quite lacking.” he replied as he set himself to be ready to move, without giving any other outward sign he was prepared for the violence that would occur with them suddenly departing.

"Kill?" Hattaska wasn't even bothered that he was suggesting it aloud.

Eyeing the Deva, ”Feel free to indulge yourself, at least until we have to get out of sight and off the radar.” Xundel replied.

"You're not gonna join me, or start us off?" Hattaska was suspicious that he'd make a move and Xundel would step in if only to make the slavemasters value him more than Hattaska.

It's what he would do.

The Deva smiled at the discussion and turned to walk away. There were other auctions taking place.

“Good luck you three.”

Anno stood. Her plan set, she slammed two of the guards at the entrance against the door with a force shove and ripped a hole through the access doors. She dashed through the opening as most of the other bidders only passively acknowledged the commotion. The attitude was apparently: if it wasn’t their prizes, it wasn’t their business.



A figure whose business was the actions of the trio stepped forward.

“Deva Olio, I assume their retrieval and punishment is-“

“Completely the responsibility of the Baron. Unless any of you harm or kill a citizen of my floor. Good luck and play safe.”

The black figure turned to Hattaska and Xundel.

“I suppose it’s best if we take this outside.” He walked past them, stepped through the hole that Anno created, and made his way down the hall back to the city main that they’d first seen when they landed.

Hattaska looked at the man, and noted Deva's comment.

Civilisation. It was grotesque.

All these rules to how he could kill.

But the green-grey Imp would want to play by them.

'To reduce deaths.'

So Hattaska followed the man and looked back at Deva, flashed her a sardonic grin.

Nobody sells me and gets to live.

One day he'd come back here.

Xundel sighed once more as Anno leapt into action. He’d not expected her to join them or follow in their plan but he’d hoped she would wait until a better opportunity presented itself.

He nodded to Hattaska, ”We will have our chance, but first we must discover why they consider us such a high value to them.” he said in a low tone.

He stumped along with the man and the black clad figure, ”So, we’re outside, how did you truly expect this to proceed now that we are?” he asked with a devilish grin.

Hattaska nearly bit his own cheek out. More talking. MORE

“You will board my ship or you will be hunted down aboard the Cradle until you die or you comply. You have your instructions. Baron Kash will not wait for you, but he will not leave you unattended after paying for your services. 16th sector. Am I understood?”

A sleek black speeder of foreign design touched down softly without a sound and a door opened, revealing another figure dressed as the man in front of them was: black attire, from literal head to toe.

“Xundel-kun, your ship is destroyed and it would be a shame for you to waste your talents here. Hattaska-kun, the same is said for you. It would also be a shame to have to imprison you both, here. We do not have space aboard the Jormungand to hold prisoners who wish to not be there.”

He stepped into the speeder and waited a moment to see if they would join him. After a moment or so, he’d be leaving

Hattaska-'kun' looked at Xundel. "We can take em."

Xundel smiled coldly, ”I’m sure we can find a ship for us both here. So...yes.” he murmured. With a swift movement, his cane rose, sweeping out, towards the ankles of the man before him. He spun, the movement swinging the cane harder as he aimed to take down the man.

Hattaska reached out and gestured aside any who were near them, using a powerful Force action to do so

The man’s leg crumpled underneath the whack of Xundel’s cane. No sound or acknowledgement of the pain. Instead as he fell, Xundel would watch as the man removed his glove and patted Xundel on the head with a cold, ashen white hand. No pain would accompany the touch.

Hattaska’s wave cleared the platforms of a few workers so that all that remained was the masked man, his speeder, the driver, Xundel and himself. The driver to Hattaska’s surprise was a woman, in the same garb as the man, holding his outstretched hand with her own bare hand. Lightning ran over her hands and sparked at the contact with Hattaska. No pain either.

The Baron’s aides quickly stepped back from their opponents and composed themselves. The driver moved to get back in the car while the man equipped his glove.

“I do not intend on fighting you. You have been marked for the Baron.”

Hattaska hesitated. Now he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to kill them all. They weren’t resisting… and he wasn’t interested in vague massacre. He wanted them to scream.

Xundel turned toward Hattaska, ”Take the driver, but find out if we need them first to fly it before you kill them.”

He turned his expression back to the man. A short chuckle came from his lips, ”You think that a slaver’s mark is something that bothers me. If you’ve done any research you’d know such has very little meaning to me. And I’m feeling in a black mood, recently, thanks to your friends.”

Pausing, he waited to see if his guest had anything to say about his actions. When none came he smiled, ”And I seem to be ‘off my leash’ for the moment, so why should I care about a mark or this Baron. You better be swift though, time is short.” He said with the sharp tip of his cane poking the man in the chest.

The man brushed Xundel's cane away as the speeder rose. He held view until he ducked into the speeder and the vehicle roared away into the traffic above.

Now, only Xundel and Hattaska remained. Left to their own devices, free in a sense, but contained in another.

TAGS: @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Sinrebirth