"Foolish child," the voice of Nordok became a deep, inhuman grow within Trinity's mind, as Leonal sprang his ingenius plan into action. "you hesitate, and give him room to act!" Already he could feel the weakening pull of the femto-scale device, seeking to rip him from his Destructor's consciousness and entrap him. The Ancient One feared nothing; he was convinced of his ability to free himself from any prison, given time, but he had grown tired of his plans being delayed. It was time for the meddlesome entities of the universe to learn the cost of opposing its will.
"Clearly, I must do everything myself." Before he was pulled from his unwilling host and into the exomatter-powered machine, he executed one of his favored abilities: the ability to create portals to virtually any location he had direct knowledge of. In this case, he ripped open one of his trademark violations of the laws of space, and roughly fifty meters behind Leonal, a doorway opened, one that led past the event horizon of a black hole. Immediately, the rift began drawing everything around it, including the matter of the station itself, into its crushing gravity well.
The death of planets was nothing to the Lord of the Abyssal Imperium. The consumption of this station by one of the most inexorable cosmic forces would be less than nothing.
In the instant Leo reappeared Trinity failed to notice a difference. That anything was amiss went completely beyond her—until she found herself halted mid-sentence. Nordok's consciousness and hers, had become intrinsically linked, though the Ancient One understood far more than she. The Cosmos spoke. Something was changing within her. Something - Leo - attempting to manipulate her in a way she'd never felt before—to pull her essence to pieces, she thought.
The Ancient's voice boomed in her head. The outburst rocked her every sensibility, forcing her, screaming, to her knees. Glass cracked and metal peeled as under the combined force of the Destructor's own screams and Nordok's furious attack, the station itself trembled even harder. On some level, not fully conscious, she too realized that the connection between herself and the maker - and the present reality itself - was being stripped.
In the moment he altered his focus, the bellowing in her mind ceased and Trinity found clarity. She reached out into the center of the portal, exercising her own power over the fundamental force of gravity. Even doubtful that she'd be able to completely overcome the prowess of her maker in that regard, she devoted herself to the creation of an oppositional pull, to hold the rift at bay and preserve the integrity of the station.
Straining all the while, she growled through her teeth. "Leo! Take us out of here!"
After months of effort, straining and machine smithing, the deed had finally been done, but not without consequence. For as the Ancient One was pulled out Trinity's mind, space-time was torn open and behind the Prince of Power loomed the event horizon of a black hole. And he felt it, a gravitational tug on his joints, his flesh, his atoms - everything - unlike any other. Teeth gritted, eyes glowing white, and his muscles twitching with the power to end worlds as he resisted to no avail, Leonel struggled. The pain was monstrous, his joints were fracturing and his flesh slowly being torn asunder. It was difficult to think, until as if repaying him for purging the Ancient One from her mind, Trinity pushed back against the black hole's pull, and likely saved his life.
Now, Leonel could think, and as Trinity roared, he reached out, grabbed her wrist, and disengaged their mass from ordinary space-time. They were gone, vanished and spilled into hyper-dimensional space, then back out into the first location that'd popped into his mind; Augusta. There, nanomachines would nurse his injuries, and the Prince of Power would have his moment with Trinity.
"So, uh...what happened here?" Daltar stood in front of what, to all appearances, was a random gaping hole in the middle of one of this galaxy's largest deep-space stations.
"Most believe that two or more all-powerful beings engaged in some manner of conflict, sir," answered a dutiful janitorial robot, assiduously and obliviously sweeping the floor mere meters from where its jagged edges marked the portal that had nearly pulled the entire station into a black hole.
"Thanks," Dal answered dryly. "For a moment there, I thought it was a plumbing issue." Turning back from the edge, he made his way to an establishment that he had become very well acquainted with, over the years, the Dragon's Lair. The establishment was closed, of course, locked down tight, it's employees on indefinite furlough as its proprietor had fled the station with the Ephemeran refugees she'd been entrusted with.
The smuggler very nearly just returned to his ship and went on his way; after all, he'd done his part and delivered the refugees here. Even if it was his responsibility to ensure their safety beyond that, it's not like he'd been paid for this job...he'd already gone above and beyond...
"Damn it." He turned and strode determinedly back to the Aphelion, taking off and putting himself into an orbit around the station. Diverting most of the ship's power to the scanners, he sat back in the cockpit and waited until his systems picked up what he was waiting for: a chemtrail that would normally be associated with an asteroid. This was the Dragon's calling card, really: lure someone in with the temptation of something they wanted, and then tear their throat out when they tried to claim it. The two of them had a pretty good business history, though, so there was at least a fair chance she wouldn't do that to him.
But if he was wrong, well...not getting paid would at least become a far lesser concern.
Here, the walls were scarred, and the air unclean. At the far end of the bar, Jak sat in contemplative silence. The cold gleam of his armor had been replaced by the subdued shade of robes slightly tattered. The Eteldan Empire would never forsake their pursuit of him, but here where men of unforgivable pasts and unattainable futures mingled and drank to the many evils they'd committed, the Rogue Knight - perhaps against his better judgement - felt he need not hide his face. Still, the hissed words of Etelda's Lord-Protector, Zahara, haunted him.
"Most people have the misfortune of living with their mistakes. But you, Fallen One, get to die with yours. We will find you"
Yet as the gruff call of a Zaban waiter echoed behind him, Jak banished his thoughts and twisted to follow the Zaban's voice. He glimpsed at the hulking alien who seemed more a mountain too short to scrape the clouds than a waiter.
"So, know what'cha want?", the Zaban asked.
"Information", Jak answered, drawing a low groan of frustration from the Zaban looming behind him.
"Sorry pal, information ain't the business of this place".
The Rogue Knight however, had been told otherwise. So, as Jak reached into the folds of his robes to pull out a stack of intergalactic credits, the Zaban could no longer feign ignorance - and surrendered to greed. Placing the credits atop the table, Jak sat in silence and glanced at the white of a Zaban grin.
"Alright, shoot. What'dya wanna know?", the Zaban obliged.
"Dakkan, warden of the prison planet, Praxis. He is here. I want to know where".
Grumbling with his eyes glued to the gleaming stack of credits, the Zaban inched closer and spoke low, "The Gravity Club and Casino. Last I heard, he was lookin' for a business partner, just shady and rich enough to fund his Praxis Death Race idea to help trim Praxis' prison population".
Overcome by silence and focus, the Rogue Knight nodded towards the credits lying atop the table, and the Zaban swept them into his grasp like a gale wind. Yet as Jak stood from his seat, he felt the cold metal maw of a blaster cannon pressing into his back. Behind him, the Zaban growled, "Good talk. But the boys here know who ya are. A wanted rebel that the Eteldan Empire's offerin' a damn good price for. Dead or alive. Choice is yours".
Passing his eyes over the rising shadows of criminals and opportunists and dusty armor with rusted blasters, Jak felt a calm breath ease through him, shut his eyes, and heard the air grow still from his warning.
"You do not want this fight".
(The post is open to anyone, just trying to get some things going)
With a nonchalant thud the New Age Man of Nowhere stomped each foot clearing off any left over dirt, mud, or snow. Before a sweeping sound of decompressing air resonated from the bar's main entrance as giant metal sheaths were retreated back into its weathered architecture. Revealing a roguish den of scum and villainy. Aliens, smugglers and bounty-hunters. Services droids and manufactured-companions. It reminded the red masked smuggler somewhat of the Bar with No Name back on Earth. Somewhat.
Here he was just another renegade, outcast, criminal or other. The interstellar regulatory affairs and contraband enforcement agency did not operate in this region. Here there were no second looks. Here one could find opportunity and wealth. As well as the occasional blaster in the back...
He approached the bar despite the obvious signs of distress and conflict, seemingly detached and uninterested. "Let me get a shot of something with a Gleamworm in it. Know what, make it a double its been a long trip." Turning and giving the hulking Zaban his back. Slouching comfortably up against the bar fully man-spreading his arms and elbows along its surface while charismatic surveying the rest of the room, he shook his head with disappointment. "Aint a bangable alien in this dump"he shaded.
All the while the robed stranger beside him had been calmly dealing with the fact that he had a blaster jammed in his back. "I gotta say. You're handling this rather well, all things considered." Devoid of actual eye-contact, still focused on the goings on throughout the establishment, Bo-Vera finally turned around but only after he believed his drink had been served. "Whats this shit? Where's my drink?" Obviously the Zaban had other more pressing matters to deal with. A fool could see that.
"You know what dont worry bout it. I got it." Stylishly vaulting over and behind the bar, Bo-Vera began looking for a bottle. His intentional distraction would momentarily cast a cloud of confusion as well as instantly attracting the attention of the Zaban, After all, it wasnt everyday a patron strolled in and helped themselves, even in a shithole like the Junker.
There was a presence, an energy. A force, pulsating off the stoic stranger that didnt fit with the regular filth that inhabited the Junker on a regular basis. Perhaps that was why Bo-Vera had sought to open a window for a person he had never met. At great personal risk to his reputation. For if things went sideways and the neo-galactic outlaw's hand was forced, he would not hesitate to shoot his way out of the Junker earning himself a lifetime ban from most interstellar watering-holes.
But the Tru Thief of Titan was no fool, though excellent and playing one. He wouldn't risk a black-mark for a stranger, for a person he had no loyalty to. What was the outlaw turned smuggler playing at then? Did he know the stranger was a wanted man? Did he know, like so many in the bar seemed to know? Only time would tell as there was a quick scramble to remove Bo-Vera from behind the bar.
(The post is open to anyone, just trying to get some things going)
She might not have been the most well equipped, or even sturdiest ship out there, but The Thorn was fast. The ship's consoles flickered back to life, having shut down for hyper drive. The readings and prompts reflected on Daizu's green skin, as his eyes slowly opened from mediation. He finally arrived, after chasing a bounty to the darkest corner of the galaxy, he was finally back to some semblance of civilization.
The warrior's feet slowly tapped to the floor from his floated meditative position. After walking to the main viewing port, Daizu grimaced when he looked upon the space station. He recalled his days as a little hatchling, looking up at the stars and wishing to be among them, to see other races and new things. If only he knew then just how unforgiving space was, he might have chosen to be a shaman instead...
"*BZZT* Docking port requesting name and specification for entry. Repeat. Docking port requesting name and specification for entry. *BZZT*"The Thorn's comm speaker blared the request from the infamous station, to which the hunter tapped on of the many buttons on the master console to reply. "Daizu, hunter."
Aboard the Crosswinds, The Hunter's Guild...
Daizu approached the caged booth inside of a plain and rusted room, with only a droid housed inside counting credits and bounties. It took a moment for the worn out machine to notice the towering Katatian, before finally quirking his head up with a small salute. "Greetings-!" The machine's eyes scanned Daizu's face to continue it's programming. "-Daizu, hunter, 1 ongoing bounty. So! Did you manage to catch Garthin The Butcher?"
"..." Daizu merely gave a small nod, never one for small talk.
"Excellent! Now, would the bounty be alive or-" The droid was interrupted, as Daizu plopped the massive and horned decapitated head of a former Garthin The Butcher on the booth's table. "...Ah." The clerk droid scanned the remains to confirm it's identity, then gave an affirming nod. "Bounty complete! That's ₹3000,000 in your favor." The credits were ejected from a small slide on the front of the booth, which Daizu quickly snatched up and stuffed in his robes. Before the droid could offer him another bounty, the hunter was already gone...
The Gravity Club...
There Daizu sat, with a large pitcher of ice water in hand. He was a complicated sort. As much as he loathed such large crowds, and noise, he still somewhat enjoyed the ambience after months isolated in uncharted space. "Love to hate..." Daizu thought to himself, calmly sipping his water...
"Whats this shit? Where's my drink?"
"Hmm?" The warrior's pointed ears twitched, picking up some sort of altercation at the main bar. "Great, a reason to get off of this heap- Wait-!?" Daizu's eyes widened just slightly while looking at one of the men in particular. A robed figure, humanoid of some kind. He would have just been another face in a crowd of people on the run, but his energy. Reading was a flimsy practice, a raw ability utilized by the Katatian people, but Daizu knew a Eteldan when he sensed one.
"What is one of them doing all the way out here? And those garbs... This is a man on the run, which only means...-" The Katatian pulled a small bounty scanner out from his robes, ready to see if this stranger in the distance was worth a decent credit, but then he held off. "No. No. Too much around it already, and I'm not in the mood to fight half of a damn space station, never mind a Knight."
Daizu put the scanner away, and picked up his water once more. He would appear none the wiser, while really keeping a sharp and enhanced ear on the altercation...
A heaving beast of greed, the Zaban gave little credence to Jak's warning, and narrowed all his focus on the riches promised to any who'd return the Rogue Knight to Etelda - dead or alive. A double-barrel blaster shoved into his back, and scoped rifles trained on his head and chest, Jak - it seemed - was at the mercy of criminals and opportunists alike. The Zaban sneered an apology, "It's only business", and the Rogue Knight answered him only in thought.
Fool.
Yet before a blade was drawn or a trigger squeezed, the sight of a man leaping through the air and sweeping the bar for a bottle of his own, drew the Zaban's ire.
"Hey, hey, HEY! What the klorf are ya doin!?", he barked, voice rising like a tide, and his scowl brewing like a storm. "Someone get him away from my rouka bottles!". Growling through his teeth and gluing his eyes to the daring outlaw plucking away at his liquor, the Zaban caught nay a wind of Jak reaching for his sword. So, as deviants and degenerates rushed to tackle the man from bottles of Zaban rouka, the Rogue Knight twisted at the heel, and the air caught the pacific glow of his energy blade.
Jak moved like water, and his blade with the swift purpose of wind, slicing through the Zaban's wrist, and dwarfing his scream with it's cold hum. His hand and blaster fell to the ground, and the Rogue Knight silenced his cries with a jab to the throat. The Zaban's eyes grew bloodshot, and his throat bulged from the telekinetic shock-waves Jak'd poured into it's stress points. The sickening crunch of a collapsed throat cut through the air, and in the ticks between seconds, so did Jak, his blade streaking all about like violent starlight, dismembering foes and boiling their blood.
Yet even he was no answer to the sheer numbers all about him. Against the blasters and cannons now aimed at not only his head, but his unlikely ally's.
Energized sounds and captivating luminescence filled the ill-reputed cantina as the proverbial shit hit the fan. The New Age of Nowhere had foolishly inserted himself in the middle of an imperial bounty hunt, and the target? Just so happened to be a rogue Knight of the Fifth Force. Pure strokes of poetic brilliance followed the Knight's every move. Every strike accompanied by a distinctive harmonic trademark of the Knight's illuminated classic, spinning, feinting, and dispatching one eager bounty seeker after another.
Elongated sliver's of deadly energy volleyed from one end of the bar to the other. The Knight skillfully deflecting any stray or sniped blasts in his direction while maintaining his impressive control of the rushing crowd.
By now the former Phantomshell had managed to wrestle his way behind one of his over-sized attackers, momentarily using the poor bastard as a protective shield as he fired from over the creature's shoulder. Its body continual riddled with blaster bolts dancing his lifeless physique and holding it place long after the Tru Thief of Titan had somersaulted out of the way and behind the bar itself.
With one had he recklessly tossed his blaster - Kismet - into the air before using his limited telekinetic talent to hold it in place. Blindly firing maintaining a suppressant line of fire so he could summon the Coda and his crew. But there was no time. The numbers just kept growing to the point that even the Rogue Knight himself was beginning to fight off the back foot, yet still holding the front line on his own.
Bo-Vera's pistol dropped to a waiting hand while the acrobatic smuggler parkour-vaulted over the bar's counter. The flaps of his dusty trench trailing behind his body, being shredded to pieces by failed blasts.
While the Digital Deathnote on the other hand, was delivering nothing but headshots swiftly moving into a back to back last stand with the Rogue Knight. Neither spoke. And unusual action for the self-assured captain of arrogance. But as prisoners of the moment, there was nothing to say. All they could do was continue to stave off the inevitable peril, until they couldnt.
Violence, always violence. Daizu's brow barely twitched as the chaos unfolded before his eyes, with only his green jaw tightening in anticipation of what was next. Immediately after the Knight drew his unmistakable blade of burning light, and struck down his opposition with ease, the entire bar erupted into echoing screams and ringing plasma. The Katatian was probably the only person that remained seated, as every other patron and thug was all to eager in jumping into the fray.
Instead, the executioner contemplated his next move, but regret would also suffice. His past called to him, his people's history. The legends of how, a long time ago, the Eteldans saved the Katatians from certain peril. "Katat damn it all..."
Daizu raised from his seat, swatting a plasma bolt aside as it crossed paths with him. He made his choice, the least he could do now is enjoy himself. The Katatian warrior had a brief element of surprise, as he still stood among the duo's opposition, and took a moment to remove his turban and cloak. "I hate this place anyway." Daizu grimaced, casually tossing his cloak onto a nearby thug, who was crushed by it's deceptively incredible weight.
He didn't waste another second, and turned to the nearest gunner, with blurring speed, Daizu's firm palm struck the alien in his ribs and sent him hurling into multiple other attackers. Now to his left, he would swing an aside to the other nearest patron to knock him flying to the far wall of the bar. Raw attacks, but enough to hopefully draw some aggravation off of his chosen allies. There was some success, as a number of energy weapons were hastily pointed in his direction.
As the first bolt rang out, Daizu had already closed the distance, caving the nobody's chest in with a single blow, then throwing him at the blood thirsty mob for another second of opportunity. Whether dodged or just a miss, Daizu's opposition was doing a good job of shooting each other in these close quarters with reckless abandon, all while he weaved through the crowd delivering swift and deadly strikes. A small pathway of fallen bodies were left in his wake, though quickly consumed again by the immense opposition.
"Dammit. I can't risk using an energy blast in here. The last thing we need is a damage lock down..."
Finally, after using a random face in the mob as a platform, Daizu would perform a spinning flip and land right near the underdogs. With his clawed hands now glowing with his fiery Life force, the warrior would focus on deflecting blaster fire with honed precision, attempting to give the duo some breathing space.
Meira Shae had arrived through a wormhole from her native galaxy...or was it an alternate universe? Ultimately, it doesn't matter as she is here now in this strange place.
The space station seems a little more advanced than Meira is used to, but easily adjusted to. Her Master chose to stay on the Excalibur while Meira explores the station.
The bar seems like a quint place. That is until everyone starts fighting. At first, the Gray Jedi chooses to stay out of it, not knowing who is at fault. Bar fights don't really concern her, often being petty disputes solved with one's fist instead of the brain inside their skulls.
But then someone, some bulky alien, decides to take a swing at the Chiss. And by swing, it's a laser weapon not unlike a blaster back home. Immediately activating her blue colored lightsaber that shines brightly before her enemy, Meira's movements are a blur of speed as the alien attacker suddenly finds himself disarmed of his weapon before he can even blink an eyelid, sliced in half with her weapon as well as deflecting a laser blast. A force push sends him across the room and crashing into a wall. He fails to get back up. Knocked out cold.
In the middle of the chaos stands another that is similar to her but not the same. A weapon that could pass as a lightsaber but with a different name. Who was that man? Questions for later because suddenly Meira is on the defensive as weapons are aimed at her, trying to turn her into smoking ash. The Chiss's weapon turns into a blue and white blur of motion as she deflects the lasers back at her attackers, watching some fall and others get wounded.
Friend and foe fought with determination and desire, surrendering to the fury of battle. Blasters roared, and the Rogue Knight moved like a frantic wave, his wrist twisting and turning, and his brightblade swatting away the bolts and blasts that raced his way. Yet as the rate of fire climbed higher and higher, the colder the sweat running down Jak's face. Back to back with the daring gunslinger who'd given him reprieve, the Rogue Knight glanced at the ceiling above, and scowled.
He had little choice.
Like a shadow come from a horizon unseen, a Katatian landed nearby, leaving an unconscious heap of bounty hunters in his wake. The trio fought on, valiantly and with resolve. But as energy surged to and fro, and the smell of cauterized wounds hung thick in the air, Jak glimpsed at a sight all too familiar; a blade of glowing light, and a warrior of telekinetic skill.
An Eteldan!, his paranoia declared, eyes widening, heart clamoring in his chest.
But as the seconds ticked away and his senses swept the room, the Rogue Knight felt no flare of Fifth Force energy - but something else, something different. It felt faraway... even foreign. Though in his distraction, he saw nothing of the energy blast that'd grazed his shoulder and stripped it of it's flesh. Growling, in anger as much as frustration, Jak thrust his palm forward, and a telekinetic wave stormed the bar, shoving his foes to the ground for precious seconds of reprieve.
"We've called enough attention to this place as is, more of them will come. We must escape".
The Rogue Knight would not negotiate. Hand open, palm facing the ceiling, and body thrumming and crackling with an energy and force from the dawn of the cosmos, Jak yanked his arm downwards, the room trembled and shook, and a thick slab ripped clean from the ceiling above was stabbed into the ground. The dust settled around the new wall - a blockade to buy them time - and Jak turned to face those who'd sacrificed their health for his.
"I don't know why you all involved yourselves, and a smart man would try to uncover your ulterior motives", his scowl deepened, "But a kind one would assume there are none, and thank you", his face softened, a small smile curling, "Thank you".
"They will be searching for you now as well", Jak warned, soon glancing at the backdoor, "We should leave now. And find somewhere to lay low, for the time being". He'd intended to sneak into the Gravity Club in search of Warden Dakka, but with the Cosmic Crosswinds soon to be swarming with those searching for him, Jak had little choice but to find a safe haven for the coming hour. The fate of those involved in his failed rebellion against the Eteldan Empire depended on it, lest they spend the rest of their days on the Praxis prison planet.
By the time the enigmatic blue and jade colored duo intervened, displaying a near perfect blend of controlled force and skill, the Tru Thieve of Titan had suffered multiple fractures along the length of his left arm. Now helpless dangling by his side as he continued to blast away with the right.
To the point of which the handle of his blaster - Kismet- had begun overheating down through the grip. Though a true masterpiece of the Manufacturing Syndicate, it was still just a smuggler's weapon. Light, easy to conceal, and powerful enough to secure a hasty escape. What it was not, was a military style weapon used for staving off insurmountable odds through continuous non-stop usage.
Even with the new found help of the dynamic rogues, the entire campaign seemed only moments away from certain death. Until the magistrate of the 5th Force brought the ceiling down like a modern Tower of Babel. Creating a debris seasoned divider allowing for a moment of rest. Bo-Vera bent over with a grunt and blood drooling from his open mouth.
His mask had been shredded during the ruthless engagement for it offered little in the way of physical protection. More for concealment then protection like his other assortment of helmets, face-plates and masks.
He grunted again. Slowly making his way over to the debris field and using it as a momentary recliner as the Rogue Knight took the lead.
First, the Konite stick. Bo-Vera slowly placed it between his battered and bloody lips with his good hand, before divining into the inner pockets of his tattered trench-coat looking for his zippo. Frustrated the more he shuffled around without success, he finally looked out towards the trio, the blue skinned darling in-particular. "Hey, sweetheart. Mind bringing that glow stick over this way for a minute." He tilted his chin upwards pantomiming that his intention was indeed for her to use it to light his smoke.
"Better late then never I guess." he quipped before turning his attention to the DataJack on his forearm. "Yeah. I'm here. Goddamn its good to hear your voice. I...."he paused and looked at the group for a minute, "Ah shit. We, need an evac like 10 minutes ago. Bring her in like a bat outta hell along the South wall of this shithole. We'll be waiting." Issuing his good arm towards the jade dyed stranger looking for a little help up, before he then nodded towards the stoic Rogue Knight. "Think you can do to that wall what you did to the ceiling? If so I think we got a chance of bustin outta'here."
Daizu's hands continued to be a flurry of glowing blurs as he deflected projectile after projectile. It didn't take long before he started flinging streaks of violet blood with each deflection, his Life Force losing it's potency with such prolonged use. Still, the Katatian warrior gritted his teeth, and forced through the agony of his battered and burnt hands.
"This is too much! Another minute and we'll all be dead men- What.." Daizu caught the glimpse of someone in his periphery. A blue skinned warrior, wielding a glowing blade with a master's precision. "Are you serious!? Another Eteldan!?"
"We've called enough attention to this place as is, more of them will come. We must escape".
The robed and rugged Knight called to rally this outnumbered entourage, with Daizu looking back with strain. "I am open to suggestions..." He grunted, sharply turning his head. Before the wanderer could attempt to muster a second wind, the Eteldan brought the ceiling down with his cosmic connection known as The Fifth Force.
The Katatian immediately dropped his hands to his sides, letting out a controlled huff of air. He closed his eyes as the Knight gave thanks for such a sudden assist, and attempted to sense out the Life Forces around them. The numbers were dire, to say the least. "They're scrambling, trying to find a way around. Whatever our next move may be, I'd recommend that it's off this station as soon as possible... Hm?"
Daizu slowly looked down, noticing that the battered and bruised gunslinger in their midst was asking for a hand. His jade lips firmed up, grimacing at the human's condition. With a clawed hand that was still smoking from the deflections, Daizu grabbed the captain's hand and hoisted him up in one pull. "Not to mention that you need medical attention, or maybe a burial spot, it could be either from how you look."
"Think you can do to that wall what you did to the ceiling? If so I think we got a chance of bustin outta'here."
"....No." The Executioner sternly stated, before gave a more softer glance to the renegade Eteldan. "You've helped us all back there, please allow me to show you that I have the same intent." He would give an affirming nod, before turning to face the wall.
He jutted his open and wounded palm out in front of him, aimed directly at their obstacle. With his eyes suddenly widening with strain and focus, an almost mystical and fiery light consumed his arm and slowly. As Daizu quietly grunted, the light swiftly shifted it's position into his palm. Finally, he let out a raw shout and released the energy in the form of a violent beam, punching a hole in the wall as if it was paper.
Daizu huffed from exertion, looking to his allies and gesturing to the impromptu exit. "After you."
Why are these apparent thugs out for their blood? It doesn't matter. Meira has made her choice and sides with those who are desperately trying to defend themselves like a small pack of underdogs hungry to win their first super bowl. It matters not their occupation or lot in life. When escape is given as the only option, the blueberry skinned Chiss silently agrees. Then the ceiling comes down as if a giant steps through it and, like paper mache, a piece of it comes down to form a makeshift barrier.
Impressive. The Gray Jedi thinks to herself as she moves to get closer to the Rogue Knight and defends him by deflecting blaster fire aimed at him so he can perform his work without getting himself shot like a fish in a barrel.
"AHHH! It's a red eyed demon!!!" Someone says and Meira turns her head to look just in time to see a tall skinny alien make a break for it just before hitting his head against a falling piece of debris when the Rogue Knight brings down the ceiling, knocking the alien out cold as he falls down rather comically on the floor. Perhaps adding a bit of humor to the situation at the oddest of times. This forces a bemused smirk to cross the Fallen Jedi's lips. It wouldn't be the first time she's been called that.
Meira doesn't know this Rogue Knight but when he utters a thank you to them all, she nods in acknowledgement, "Your welcome." No words of wisdom, no sage advice. Just a simple reply for a time that leaves little room for a more lengthy answer as she deflects several more shots from those laser weapons, seeing the attacks before they can reach her through the Force. It's times like these she is grateful for her training.
Weather 'they' will come looking for Meira is irrelevant to her. Now is the time to escape and time to worry about the consequences later. For now, the Rogue Knight is no longer distracted. She moves to the one who is wounded. A man with a broken mask, left arm dangling in a broken piece of flesh that had obviously been abused to the point that it suffered broken bones in several places. The Blade of the Republic knows she can heal him, but now is not the time. Healing will take too much time and both would be vulnerable when an exit is badly needed. Still, Meira's heart goes out to him...until he asks for a light.
Seriously?! He's asking me for a light?! Meira thinks there are better ways to use one's weapon. Smacking her lips in obvious disagreement she actually does it anyway just to get it over with. The guy's going to smoke no matter what, so she moves her lightsaber and, for the briefest of moments, touches the end of Bo-Vera's deathstick. At least that is what it is called where she is from. Not a moment too soon either because the mysterious man receives a communique from someone he knows.
In the middle of it all, Meira didn't even notice the man with emerald colored skin. Big and muscular, he shows himself capable as well, but also having wounds of his own by the look of his hands. And while Daizu focuses on blowing a hole through the wall, Meira force jumps behind him to defend him by deflecting blaster shots aimed at his head and back. Since she hasn't been wounded, so far, she decides then and there cover all of their escape.
Glancing at Daizu, she smiles. He's such a gentlemen in allowing them to go first. "Him first." Meira nods at Bo-Vera then she glances over at the Rogue Knight to try and lock eyes with him, "Would you please help him while I cover your escape?" She asks politely. Should the request be done, then the Broken Jedi skillfully moves her lightsaber in her hands to defend them from their attackers. One shot gets through but it only dents her armor. The force of the blow stings like a bee, though, so it's still not pleasant.
If the Rogue Knight helps Bo-Vera out, Meira then nods to Daizu, "Go! I'll cover you!" She says and if the big green alien obeys then Meira defends his escape before she follows the group to their planned escape to help them to their ship before she plans on breaking off to go to her own. If she can.
For but a moment, the fire of conflict was cooled by a few seconds of reprieve. The blaster bolts and gunfire that slipped through the cracks of Jak's blockade found no target but his ally's blade of light. As she deflected blast after blast, the Rogue Knight turned to answer the gunslinger more concerned with the rush of a good smoke than the blood leaking from his wounds. But Jak need not speak. The Katatian stepped forward, offering his services in yet another glimpse of altruism. Nodding in approval, Jak watched as energy swarmed out the Katatian's hand.
Light engulfed in the room, and the loud cry of a crumbling wall filled the air. The dust settled, and whatever remained of the wall was now scattered across the ground.
"After you"
"Thank you", again Jak nodded before returning his eyes to the wounded gunslinger. With a flick of the hand, the Rogue Knight weaved a telekinetic construct to hoist the gunslinger to his feet and strengthen his mobility, "That should help you walk for a bit". Stepping out the shattered wall and into a tunnel that spiraled out into a labyrinth of low-lit hallways, "Earlier, I'd overheard some of those criminals. They had mentioned passageways that can quickly lead to the main hangar. But", he paused, "It was also once used by a creed of xenophobic assassins. Extraterrestrials who hated other extraterrestrials, and thus came to a hub of alien activity to sate their murderous intent".
"They're believed to have since abandoned these tunnels, but legend has it that a few remained behind. We ought to be careful here", the Rogue Knight scowled, his voice a grim warning. Turning his gaze back to his allies, his eyes zeroed in on the woman in particular, "You seem to possess powers similar to my own. Can you force the opening of this tunnel shut?". Stepping forward, the metal floor creaked from the weight of his stride but held strong. For the briefest of seconds, the thought of Warden Dakka and the captured members of his Omega Unit on the Praxis prison planet swept through his mind like a rushing wind.
With a horde of bounty hunters now swarming the station in search of him, confronting Dakka was no longer possible. His friends and brothers in arms would be forced into a death race below the scorching glare of a star too close to it's planet. Solar winds, roaring heat, and a shower of radiation awaited them in a race track that would determine who lived and who died. Somehow, someway, he would save them. Pulling his mind back to the allies behind him, the Rogue Knight asked, "So, where are you all from?".
Striding on, he continued, a small smile breaking through his mask of samurai reserve, "Because if we all die here, our last thoughts should at least be of home".
Bravely the sea-colored sorceress fell behind to cover the group's retreat like a reborn avatar of the mighty 300. Working in concert, the stoic fugitive offered another glimpse into the extensive well of his abilities. Using an unseen force to secure Bo-Vera's injuries in a tight unseen aura.
Acting like a supernatural hyperbolic chamber allowing the outlaw to physically endure the trauma while continuing to push his body to even further extremes in their bid to escape through the tunnels as the Rogue Knight cautioned of its worrisome lore and history.
Inquisitively, Omega One sought common ground as the group walked seeking to hear about their individual origins. Not a bad idea all things considering.
You only live as long as the last person who remembers you. And with the relentless mob of bounty-hunters, credits seekers, and those hungry to gain favor with the Eteldain Empire hot on thier heels, this group of unlikely allies may very well have been just that.
Bo-Vera had continued to push ahead. Seeking to take advantage of the White Star of Saemos' curiosity by slipping just far enough ahead to get off a yet another distress signal without anyone noticing him.
All he needed was...'there, got it.' he sub-consciously thought before slowing up attempting to fade back into the group with casual nonchalance. "I think I saw an opening up ahead there. We might be getting close and then we can get the hell off this rock. I can drop whoever where-ever. Free of charge. This time."he awkwardly chuckled.
Daizu watched closely, his eye twitching as the Rogue Knight performed some unseen feat of telekinetic power to assist the Outlaw's condition.
"Huh. So this is the power of the Fifth Force? Here I thought they could only use it with aggression..."
The Katatian followed the duo closely, his life sensing on edge to feel out any sort of readings, with little results. Jak started to speak of local myths among the Station, tales of tunnel scurrying bandits with a penchant for xenocide. His warrior heart beat a bit faster, and Daizu's arrogance flashed for a moment in the form of a grin. "Anything would be better than scummy bar rats at this point."
His curiosity was also raised, wanting to see what two Eteldans were capable of in combat. Something was still amiss, however, with the blue warrior that accompanied them. His senses were far to unrefined to ever make an accurate guess. "What is this energy surrounding her...?"
"So, where are you all from? Because if we all die here, our last thoughts should at least be of home."
The question caught Daizu off guard, but followed through with an amused chuckle at Jak's ending statement. Just as he thought, this man truly was a warrior who was committed to die with honor, he would remember that. His mind wandered back to the initial quesiton, acting dismissive of the thought. Katat might have been his peaceful home, but he had little in way of pleasant memories from it.
"I am from Planet Katat, not much else to say. If any of you have ever been there, that won't be a shocking revelation." Daizu shrugged, half-joking about it's lackluster scenery and lack of wildlife.
His terse answer lined up perfectly for the Warrior to draw eyes onto Bo Vera once again, listening to how he has found a possible exit from this seemingly infinite maze of dim tunnels. Something seemed... Off, though.
"Seems a lot more timid than before, considering he was all grins and glares when firing those blasters. Maybe this is just who he is without the heat of battle on his back?" Daizu dismissed the behavior, stepping closer to Bo. "I hope your ship is either combat class or fast, because there isn't a chance that we're flying away from this hunk of junk without a hail of artillery."
Meira is a bit distracted with a telepathic communication with her Gray Jedi Master, Xandra Shan, who was on board the Excalibur. The ship is currently in a different docking port of the station but the one they are all heading to right at the moment is closer with a small army between them and Meria's personal starship.
The chaos surrounding them is something the Chiss is very used to. The bounty hunters and mercenaries swarm like angry insects after them, like they are reacting to a boot kicking their hill. They are all out for blood and Fallen Jedi doesn't fully understand why or who is at fault. She is just trying to stay alive when a voice breaks through her communication with Master Shan. The Rogue Knight has spoken to her, a half remembered question pops into her mind and retells it. Can she seal the opening of this tunnel? Meira smiles, nodding and then stretching out her hand she slowly closes her fingers. As she does, the metal rends and bends, as if protesting the forced movement. It screeches loudly, piercing her ears as the metal rips and tears as the opening collapses in on itself. The once gaping maw is now more like a closed wound now, blocking blaster fire but not before a hit lands on Meira's abdomen before the last of the metal blocks any weapons fire that remains.
With a grunt of pain from the searing heat of the blast, Meira's back slams down on the hard metal floor. The hardness of such a dreadful fall is completely unforgiving and causes the Blade of the Republic to let out a gasp of pain. Placing a hand where she had been shot, she slowly rises to her feet. She grits her teeth, following her would be companions. Her only solace will be the safety of the ship and the fact Xandra Shan will be following them with the Excalibur as per their telepathic agreement they shared earlier.
Meira answers another question as she follows them, "My home is far away from here in another galaxy. I arrived here through a wormhole. My ship is in another docking port and my Master is going to follow us."
Smiling through the pain, Meira looks at Bo-Vera, "Thanks, I appreciate that. I don't think you'd like what currency I have." She says in a good natured way to his not charging them for all this. This time. Even though she's in pain and wounded, she still takes the time to share some of her banter with this man she doesn't even know.
To the green one, she shakes her head, "Never heard of Katat. But I am honored to have met you. Your a fine warrior."
Narrowing his gaze as he looked ahead, Jak's senses scoured the tunnel and labyrinth beyond for any signs of movement. He glimpsed at the shadows for the whites of enemy eyes, and his Fifth Force fields swept the grounds of places beyond his line of sight. So single-minded was the Rogue Knight's focus, that he failed to notice the wounded outlaw's brief disappearance and quick return. Though as the dim overhead lights buzzed like an insect's wings, it was the echo of the outlaw's voice that drew Jak's mind back to his comrades.
"I think I saw an opening up ahead there. We might be getting close and then we can get the hell off this rock. I can drop whoever where-ever. Free of charge. This time"
The offer dawned on the Rogue Knight's mind. To accept it ran the risk of possible betrayal, of capture, for though this man had aided him, he did not know him. And there were no shortage of undercover spies in the Eteldan Empire's reserves. He must not lower his guard. Yet, to refuse his offer would mean facing a whirlwind of bounty hunters and violent opportunists storming through the Cosmic Crosswinds in search of his head. He can evade capture, but he cannot avoid death. And his chances of confronting the warden of the Praxis prison planet have all but vanished. Jak was left with little choice but to venture to Planet Aro in search of the Fifth Force monks banished from the Eteldan Empire; the Veritas Order.
"My destination is Planet Aro", he answered, "And thank you", Jak nodded, his gratitude as sincere as his paranoia. Soon, the Katatian's voice cut through the cold air, and his words gave little credence to the glimmering waters and lush blue grasslands of his homeworld, nor the legendary social stability of his people. "Not much else except that it's the only planet with a civilization that hasn't yet waged war on itself. A feat I believe most of the known universe has never managed", Jak commended, his smile quiet but genuine. "Although you're right about the ship needing combat systems", his smile vanished and countenance sharpened.
"They'll all be in hot pursuit of us-", he stopped, his ears catching a loud thud against the shut entrance of the tunnel. Moments ago, their pursuers had shot the other robed sword-master among them, Jak imagined it would not be too long before the tunnel is breached. Still, his thoughts could not help but pull back to what the woman had said. She was from a different galaxy altogether, yet there she was, wielding a blade of blazing light like his, dressed in robes like a Veritas, and wielding a power like the Fifth Force. It was strange and remarkable altogether, that such similar cultures and paths could be arise galaxies apart.
"You command a power similar to my own, but I can sense that you are no Eteldan wielding the Fifth Force", Jak pointed out, still venturing ahead, "It's uncanny and-", again he stopped, tensing at the unmistakable buzz of radio frequencies up ahead. Drawing his hand to the hilt of his brightblade as suspicion crawled up his spine, the Rogue Knight turned to his comrades, gestured for caution, and continued up ahead. Keeping his steps slow and light, he followed the sound of distant static, determination written in his eyes. The outline of a larger chamber emerged up ahead, and the sound of static sharpened.
Yet as the Rogue Knight strode into the chamber, he found not a trap, but a skeleton and outdated communicator in it's grasp, "Oh", Jak relaxed, "No doubt an unfortunate soul who overstayed their welcome". Quickly however, the dying gasp of the skeleton's communicator was drowned out by the crackle of electricity. Turning to meet the source, Jak was greeted by an abyssal drop-off, and a series of horizontal, swinging electrified poles that seemed the only way through which the chamber's other side could be reached. With light peeking from the other side, Jak glanced back at the outlaw.
"Seems that's the opening you caught a glimpse of. Now, we need only find a way to turn off the electricity of those poles. There's likely a generator nearby". The poles' presence however, sparked a spike of wariness in the Rogue Knight. They swung up and down, slicing through the air in a steady rhythm. Destroying them and casting a telekinetic platform upon which they could walk across to other side seemed the easier option, too easy for a labyrinth legend claims is cunning and booby-trapped.
"Rumor has it this place is booby trapped, so we may have to find a way to turn the electricity off so we can swing our way to the other side".
(Feel free to change/add to any of this. Twists and turns are welcome, LOL)
Their voices played in the background as Bo-Vera cautiously crouched at the edge of the labyrinth's open wound, a kink in his neck as he surveyed the walls and stalagmite riddled ceiling high above. Glancing back towards no one in particular caught in the twilight of a spontaneous idea.
"I got this." Steadying himself with a massive inhale before sighing in preparation, using his available arm to maneuver the handicapped one in-close to his body. One step. Two steps. Three steps backwards before the star stealing sensation smoothly erupted into his elongated stride and vaulted up and outwards.
With lackadaisical importance the partially developed essence of a frontwards flip began to take shape. Only to witness the self-assured darling of the acrobatic daredevils touch down on the first electrical rod with but three fingers instantaneously robbing it of its lethal energy. And yet somehow able to spring across to the next rod, and the next. Each time gracefully premiering a gymnastic affront to the very laws of physics until finally he had reached the other side.
"Its okay you can cross safely now." By now an overwhelming aura of purple luminescence pulsed with the rhythm of a heartbeat off B0o-Vera's hand causing him to squint with discomfort forcing him to squeeze his fingers into a tightly formed fist until the strange energy began to subside.
The galactic outlaw paused for a minute listening to the sound of...dripping water? Coming from behind him deeper in tunnels. Yet it didnt sound like any natural spring or water deposit. It was thick, elastic sounding. There was a fresh humidity in the air with an foul odor.
Without hesitation intuitive instincts had Bo-Vera's finger already on the trigger of his holstered blastered. As he spun, drew, and fired, he was instantly greeted and subsequently swatted into the nearest wall with no more effort then a bear swatted a fly. A creature, nearly the height of the cave itself and the width of a celestial demi-god roared as he breached the shadows into the light of the opening.
Aged meat dangling from its enormous teeth, tattered pieces of flesh, fabric and god only knows what else hanging from its 747 sized claws. Whether it was native to the labyrinth was unknown, inconsequential. Whether or not it was alone...now that, was a question worth investing in...
The party found themselves up against yet another obstacle in the belly of this cesspool, to which Daizu grunted in annoyance. As the warrior listened to Jak's sage knowledge, he too analyzed the electric pandemonium blocking their way. His thoughts were simple as to a solution, brute force.
"If they give me a moment, I could reduce them to smouldering wreck- Hm!?"
Daizu's hairless brow twitched, as the seemingly injured rogue Bo-Vera jumped into action. The Katatian looked on in awe, his head nodding along with each masterfully performed flourish of acrobatics, pushed to their limits.
"Impressive... Where did this second wind come from? It wasn't a moment ago that he was slumping against walls! Hm. It would seem I've underestimated this human." Daizu's head cocked, his sharp eyes noticing yet another oddity. "And seems to have the ability to, what, absorb energy? This man might not be so ordinary after all."
"Its okay you can cross safely now."
The bandit announced, causing Daizu to let out a reserved "Hmph!" As a result. He would look to his other two comrades, giving them a nod. "See you on the other side."
While much less flashy and impressive, Daizu simply opted to float off of the ground, and quickly fly over the gap entirely until he could land gracefully on the opposing platform. Not a moment later, a sharp sensation ran up his green neck, suddenly sensing a foreign life force. Before he could even react to the intrusion, an impossibly loud roar echoed out from where Vera slinked off to.
The beast bellowed once again, affirming it's strike on the galactic outlaw in a primal fit of success. It wasn't long before it set it's eyes on Bo-Vera once more. Like a bullet, however, Daizu flew at the monster with blurring speed, his features unrecognizable as he spun through the air. Having proper momentum, the Katatians foot connected with the beast's jaw, a whip-like crack ringing out as the strike landed.
"Finally, something worth fighting! Show me what you got, MONSTER." The Katatian Claw slashed a fanged grin, that warrior's pride shining through once again. Still, it was only enough to nudge the abomination's whole head, seeming more annoyed than anything. Daizu was not deterred, and followed up with a blurry flurry of jabs and kicks on it's chest.
"HRAAAAAAGH!" Daizu roared to match the beast's own voice, continuing his barrage that seemed to only hold it in one place, it's posture stammering too frequently to retaliate. While it wasn't going to fall the beast, Daizu was counting on buying a small window of time for the others to follow through.
@omega-one: @cesc_bo_vera: @dxx: (OOC: Alright. Once again, sorry for the delay. If I do this again, I'm going to pull out my character as I don't want to always be slowing this down. I appreciate your patience)
Out of them all, Meira feels the closest connection to the Rogue Knight but only because of their apparent similarities. But as much as they have things in common, they are also radically different from each other, bringing forth a nice mix of both good and bad. If these two ever become friends, perhaps that is the kind of bond that form a legendary friendship that will shake the galaxy.
Perhaps the same can be said of the others as well. This rag tag group of people drawn together either by fate itself or mundane circumstances. Stranger things have happened, but for the moment there are more pressing matters at hand to deal with. But first, Meira listens to the Rogue Knight peer at her with those piercing eyes of his as he mentions something about the 5th Force. It almost sounds like the Force. Just a moment to stretch out her feelings and she can sense his power swirling like a whirlwind within him. But it is strange to her, unfamiliar and not the living Force she is used to sensing. But even here in this galaxy, the Force exists. At least to her understanding of it.
Meira makes a mental note to talk more in depth about their respective origins at a more convenient time. For the time being, she focuses on the task at hand. Despite his apparent injuries, Bo-Vera proves more than capable of performing feats of gymnastics as to put any olympic athlete to shame. Meira is deeply impressed and she is not so sure she could have done the same even with the Force empowering her.
The Gray One decides to hang back and be the last one to cross, deciding then to use a bit of Force healing to speed up her natural ability to take care of her wounds. But it's only for a few seconds that she is granted this reprieve for the green one is quick on his feet and agile as a cat. The Fallen Jedi likes him, a most unique being indeed.
Then it's almost as if time itself comes to a screeching halt as some kind of beast comes out to attack them with Daizu matching the beasts roar, but barely putting a dent in it's thick hide. beast trick might calm it down, but it might not. The Gray Jedi senses it's emotions and it's filled to the brim with rage to the point of overflowing. Calming this monster won't be possible so Meira readies her lightsaber, the light shining all around her as if pushing away the darkness of evil.
Then Meira thinks better of it. A comrade is down, heavily injured. Her primary concern is now him and him alone. She deactivates her weapon only to Force leap her way over to Bo Vera's side, to check on him. If it wasn't for Daizu's constant barrage of attacks, surely the monster would have tried smashing the Gray One and Bo into a bloody stain but it's too busy dealing with the green nuisance. Still, as a precaution, Meira tries to carefully pick Bo up and move him further away from the fight but only if the outlaw allows it. Does he?
Still, Meira stretches out with her power, managing to Force push the monsters the legs out from under it and forcing the thing to land flat on it's face with a dull metallic thud. Perhaps even giving the others the advantage of attacking the thing while it's busy trying to rise again.
He floated in the airless void outside of the station, watching.
Waiting.
Finally, his opportunity presented itself: a beat-up interstellar freighter approached the Crosswinds, and the doors of one of the many hangar bays that dotted the station's surface slid, or more appropriately, grated open to allow the lumbering vessel entrance. The Deadsun became a blur of motion, darting forward and into the hangar before the ship, so fast that the pilot was unlikely to have noticed anything more than a blur that he would chalk up to too many hours in hypersleep.
What he could not chalk up to that, however, was the imposing figure who waited at the base of the entry ramp. The startled spacer didn't even see the large man move, but suddenly he found himself dangling in the air, hoisted effortlessly by his collar in one of the intruder's hands.
The Deadsun glared, the solar radiation that comprised the core of his being burning in his gaze. He was here seeking the one who had defeated him, who had humiliated him in front of his creator, mere moments after his creation. Yes, the one called Achilles was who he sought, but he hadn't the faintest idea where to begin looking for one being across the vastness of space. Fortunately, the demigod had not been alone.
"Where," he growled, through clenched teeth, "are the Ninjans?"
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