Formerly In The Shadows II

Oberst

04-05-2007 02:25:06

Here are the rules for the runon.

1) To be counted for placing and rewards, posts must be 3/4 of a page in length.

2) To be counted for placing and rewards, posters must make a minimum of 3 pages.

3) The Clan Summit reserves the right to make modifications to posts to better meld and mesh with continuity.

4) NO content edits after your post has been made unless asked to do so by the administrators of the Runon.

5) If you call posts, please limit your hold time to no more than 4 hours. After the 4 hour period, your hold will be invalidated, and removed.

Administrators for this Runon are Dranik, Mune, Oberst and Bloodfyre.


First post will be made by Dranik. After that, have fun all.

Dranik

04-05-2007 13:23:44

Dranik sat quietly at his desk in his office upon the Sword’s Sheath. The room was lit by two sources of light, the candle burning dimly behind the Prelate’s head and the computer monitor glowing in front of the Aedile. Dranik let out a soft sigh as he continued to review the countless number of reports he had allowed to back up. There were reports from the three Battle Teams of the House, reports from the House itself, reports from the Clan, and even a few reports from the ship he held command of, the Acheron. After sometime of allowing the reports to scroll across the screen, Dranik reached forward and flipped off the screen and shook his head. “Sometimes I really dislike this job…” Dranik stated softly to himself, considering that to his knowledge the room was empty.

From the Shadows, however, was a silent figure standing and watching the Gladius Aedile. After a few moments of watching Dranik sit in near darkness at his desk the figure spoke. “Aedile, you make such easy prey.” Stated the figure as he pressed the hilt of his lightsaber to the back of Dranik’s neck. Dranik froze for a moment before his hand started to slide to his side where he had one of his blasters holstered when he heard a growling from under the desk. Dranik stopped once again and looked down at the creature growling at him. At the Aedile’s feet was a small dog like creature, while Dranik couldn’t really see the creature all that clearly it was very clear that whatever it was, was dead and had been for sometime. “What, do you not like fluffy?” the figured asked before walking around to the opposite side of Dranik’s desk and taking a seat, removing his hood as he did such. The dog creature moved from under the desk and up into the man’s lap where he began to pet the thing.

Dranik looked up at the man and spoke softly “Sirrus, what do you want?!” Dranik said, his anger at being snuck up on and threatened showing clearly in his tone. Sirrus grinned slightly and spoke softly “You are going to do something for me. I want you to take Gladius to a site for a small little trial. I want you to take the House to Yirida III to this location.” Sirrus handed Dranik a datapad and watched the Aedile for a long moment. “This is in the middle of a city?” Dranik asked, puzzled. “Indeed it is, in fact its an old abandoned factory in that city. You are going to take your house there for a battle test.” Dranik shook his head quietly and said “A battle test of what? My house is combat ready!”

Sirrus laughed softly “Who said anything about it testing your house Aedile?” Dranik looked at Sirrus, puzzlement in his eyes and he then shook his head. “No, I will not take my house into a situation without more details then this.” Sirrus shook his head and spoke softly once again “No Aedile. You will do as I said with the information I have given you. You will take your house to the city of Scryon and to that abandoned factory and wait there for the fun to start!” Dranik looked somewhat taken aback and shook his head again. “Sirrus, You are not going to order me around, now get the hells out of my office.” Dranik stated flatly with a somewhat threatening tone.

The dog like creature jumped up onto Dranik’s desk and got into the Aedile’s face and started growling. Dranik looked at the creature and then up at Sirrus as if waiting for him to leave. “Aedile, Do as I say or Fluffy will be staying here with you when I leave.” Dranik sighed softly and wanting Sirrus out of his office said “Fine. Now get out!” Sirrus smiled slightly and whistled as he pulled his hood back over his head. The man and dog left the room the same way they came in, through one of the many secrete passages scattered throughout the Sword’s Sheath.

***

Dranik sat on his seat in the shuttle’s cabin and looked at the passing stars. “Now let me get this straight Dranik, you agreed to send the house to some abandoned factory for some kind of test without any idea what it is about?” Mune asked as he peered at Dranik. Dranik nodded slightly “Aye I did, I didn’t get much of a choice and I don’t think that Sirrus would put the house into any real danger.” Dranik said quietly before adding “What has been the overall word of the house about it?” Mune looked at the window himself and said “Well, most of them are actually ready for it, ready to get out and stretch their legs and train a little. I just wish we had an idea as to what we were going up against.”

Dranik watched as the shuttle went into the atmosphere of the planet and set its path towards the landing site nearby to the factory. Dranik’s eyes widened as he saw what lay before the shuttles. There were crates, each marked "Top Secret" and had Asylum written on it. There were dead uniformed military officers near the crates, some of the officers had been ripped in half and others just been ripped apart. The shuttles set down softly on the ground and the members of Gladius started to file out and look at the site before them.

Mune spoke loudly and clearly as he and Dranik both ignited their sabers “Gladius stay close to the shuttles and ready yourselves, something is very wrong here.” Dranik started walking forward with Mune and spokes softly “I don’t like this Mune, I remember the first thing from the Asylum that had escaped, or rather was set loose on the Sword’s Sheath. We are in for trouble, and there are almost Six hundred and fifty thousands people in this city. If creatures from the Asylum have been released here, either by accident or on purpose this city is in for real trouble.” Mune nodded slightly and turned back towards the rest of the house. “I am going to get everyone ready for whatever lies ahead. I want you to investigate what happened here….” Mune stated, more of an order rather than a request. Dranik nodded quietly and approached one of the shuttles, immediately recognizing the uniform as one from the Clan’s military.

Dranik heard a soft moan come from one of the crates and ran over to it, his saber blade still ignited at his side. Quickly the Prelate cut open the top of the crate, inside the crate was an injured officer of the clan military. Dranik helped the man out and he looked up at the Prelate. The officer recognized Dranik and spoke quickly “Sir….a creature, a Drauger in fact, ambushed us and set the other creatures loose upon us. I awoke to find myself in one of the crates….” Dranik nodded and spoke to the man in a very command tone “Go inside the shuttle and send a report to Sir Oberst at once…” Dranik then turned away from the man as the officer went to carry out his orders.

***

Oberst shut off his view screen and stood from his chair and looked at one of the messengers in front of him. “Go, send word to elements of Tridens to meet up with Gladius on Yirida III, NOW!” Oberst ordered as the man went running from the room. Oberst himself gathered a few things and left his office, intent on leaving himself.

Welshman

04-05-2007 14:44:03

The wood panelling afforded the room an illusion of warmth, a fake impression for the air was frigid, daggers of ice cutting through the crisp, pristine military uniform of the commodore. Breath condensing into nebulous mist in front of the now shivering officer.

Casting his sight across the well appointed office his gaze fell upon the cracked green leather high backed arm chair and its pale, soft wood inlay. How could the occupant stand to sit on the cold hide? Tracking around the remainder of the room the ceiling to floor bookshelf on the eastern wall called to the well-read officer.

Footsteps echoing off the marble tiles he strode towards the fonts of knowledge, electronic eyes feasting on the titles and names inscribed on the books’ spines, nose drinking in the aroma of dust, ink and paper. Reaching out he carefully eased one of the tomes from its home, opening the yellowing, well thumbed pages he began to read the words by flickering torch light.

Words written in forgotten tongues rolled off the page and into his imagination. Histories of arcane procedures and fearsome weapons, great heroes and vile antagonists. Closing the book he nestled it back into its space on the majestic oak shelf. His attention drawn to the large double doors opposite his point of entrance, a door he knew his superior would soon by walking through. Stepping over to the nearest arm chair he lowered his frame into the cold embrace and let himself sink into its luxurious grip.

Focusing on the hardwood door he felt the approaching knot of awareness that was Archean draw closer, soon enough footsteps muffled by the thick pile carpet rebounded off the rough hewn stone wall and into the room through the slightly ajar doors. The soft pounding of leather on textile belied an urgency in the Quaestor steps, approaching ever closer to his own office Welshman Corsair Tarentae allowed the Force to wash over him and into his perceptions, in a rare display of Force prowess the Warlord affixed the door in his mental grasp and yanked it open.

The look of surprise on the Warrior’s face was almost comical as he stumbled into his own home his dark hair flailing around a tanned face. Face swiftly metamorphosing from surprise into anger the Corellian’s hand dropped to his sabre hilt on his belt.

“Peace friend.” Began Welshman, voice modulated and devoid of mirth and emotion. “You should open yourself up more, you might have recognised that I was in this room. That or you really should consider getting yourself a set of optics like mine. Now tell me my Quaestor, what news has you so wound up I could feel your emotions from the maintenance dock.”

“Welshman, perhaps next time you might do the courtesy of not ambushing me in my own office. But that can wait. We have bad news coming in to the Castle.”

The distraught look on his friend’s face clued Welshman into the severity of the situation, this was no small pirate raid or diplomatic trouble with a foreign Clan.

“Yuuzhan Vong incursion?” Hazarded Welshman.

“Worse, it seems that the undead have broken out on a Yridia III testing site. It seems that some creatures called the Draugr have been summoned forth rather then what was expected. I trust that Tarentum has had some run in with these creatures before?”

Thinking back to the last two occasion when these creatures had ran amok Welshman could only nod, ideas running through his head; how best to kill one? Out of the question for all but the most skilled high level Equite or Elders. How many Tridens members to take to Y3? Not enough and any impact that they could hope to make would be nothing but a futile gesture.

“Get everyone on a ship Archean, arm them as best we can and get them the hell into the Orbit of Yridia III. We’ll co-ordinate with the Field Marshal and Consul en route. We can’t let these things run wild and possibly get off planet. Any intelligence on how many there are?”

“I have orders from Field Marshal Oberst to scramble. As for the intel, its ambiguous. Could be multiple suspected.”

“Pray that there aren’t Archean, one of these monsters almost destroyed Gladius a few years back. I’ll be in the hanger bay organising shuttles and escorts. By your leave Quaestor?”

“Get to it Welshman. I’ll sound the alarm…”

Leaping to his feet Warlord Welshman turned on his heel and began sprinting the distance to the main hanger bay, forsaking his Orbalisk armour that hung suspended in its nutrient cage in his room and the fancy armaments in the Tridens arms locker. The Force, his wits and twin Lightsabres were all he needed to survive the oncoming slaughter….

OdinVaaj

04-05-2007 17:06:07

It was all in silence before the shrieking tone rose in high pitch, spreading through every room and corridor. The sentient beings were stormed, their heart pounding as their auditory systems caught a signal of a casualty. People, who were still alert, stared to wonder, looking around to seek the source of the troubling sound. The others, who were at rest, jumped to their feet, getting ready for the call they might have in a few seconds.

The alarming pitch quickly reached on that dimmed part of Tridens Headquarters, deep down under the water surface level of the vast sea of Yridia II. Four people who sat cross-legged on the round-seats opened their eyes, watching one another silently with such curiosity described on their faces.

“What’s that, Master?” the only female in that meditation chamber inquired.

“The alarm system,” the man answered the questioning look of the other three faces, “ It’s like an emergency call to the members. I don’t think this is a drill, since I don’t have any notice before. Only the respective summits would do this for the mobilization purpose, as noted on the standard operating procedure”.

“Are we in danger?” A young Novice asked

“Danger is always our challenge, austinrj,” the man smiled, as he stood and grabbed the datapad on the small table near him,” perhaps, there is something as a precaution…”

“What should we do?” another inquiry came from the only Guardian in that room.

Before, the man who had the identity of a Dark Jedi Knight could gave any direction, the disturbing sound halted with a voice, recognized as the Tridens’ Quaestor presenting his order.

“Attention to all personnel! Report to hangar bay for embarkation to Yridia-three orbit! Briefing will be handed out en route…I repeat…. Report to hangar bay for embarkation to Yridia-three orbit! Briefing will be handed out en route.”

“All?” The Knight was surprised by the information he read on his datapad, as the alarm broke the lull to hear once more. Considering that Quaestor himself sending the order, the situation was obviously crucial,” All right, Sikes, prepare yourself quickly and guide your fellows to the hangar bay. Get some necessary arms. I’ll meet you there in five. ”

The Knight, Odin Vaaj Bruth’Kothae, paced fast towards the door, without waiting for the answers of his Circle 1 members'. He sensed their eagerness, curiosity, and some place of fear, however he just smirked as he heard them also running to the other way behind him. This could be a practical lesson for them.

While he turned his direction approaching to the room at the end of the corridor, a Sith Warrior, went out from the room.

“Are you going with us, Karel?” Odin asked to the Equite.

“The call is for all personnel,” Karel answered with an esteemed tone.

“Dangerous monsters, eh?” Odin said, marveling.

“No doubt at all…”

Telona

04-05-2007 17:37:17

Telona checked over her team members before she took a real look around. Something wasn’t right here. She opened herself up to the flow of the Dark Side to get a general feeling for what was happening. An overwhelming sense of hatred and unrest hit her like a ton of stone. She averted her attention to one of the nearest guards so as to not allow her charges to pick up on her upset. What was it that she felt above all? It seemed familiar yet not.

“No.”

The words escaped her lips as she realized what it was that she felt most. She quickly covered it up as a coughing fit and opened herself up once more. The hatred and unrest washed over her again but she had been ready for them. She searched for the other things she felt. An underlying power, great in strength and subtlety, coursed through the undead bodies. The Adept felt that familiar spot in the Dark Side again and her fears multiplied. Draugr. Not just one though, there was more but how many more she could not tell. The underlying power disrupted her searching but she had gathered enough to know what was coming. It made her furious.

“Levathan.” Telona calmly turned to face her old apprentice. “Take stock of our weapons while I go ask for our orders.”

Dranik watched as the woman brushed past Mune and approached him. He could see from her face that she was choking back her anger. The Aedile disengaged his lightsaber and put up his hands to try to placate her but it was of no use. She grabbed a handful of his clothing and pulled him right to her face.

“What in the name of Bane are you thinking?!” She whispered hoarsely. “You know how bad a time we had with the one Draugr running around Gladius and now you bring the house here to face more than one! How dare you bring everyone here to die! How dare you!”

“Break it up!” Mune interjected as he rushed to muscle the two apart. “Telona you know better than to treat your leaders with such disrespect. Keep yourself in check.”

“And you, get everyone back on those shuttles and get them out of here. At least half of this house will die today if you don’t.”

A loud explosion followed by another erupted from the shuttles. Members of House Gladius scattered as they moved away from the shuttles. Smoke billowed black as it escaped from the engines before the automatic fire suppression system kicked on. Windos quickly regrouped and sent his team members into the shuttles to assess the damage. The look on their faces as they emerged from the shuttles told the story. No one was going anywhere anytime soon. Telona’s fury was replaced by laughter.

“Fantastic. Now we are stuck here. I hope you don’t get sick watching your house members die around you Mune.” Her laughing face quickly turned into a scowl. “Dranik, if you don’t die at the hands of one of these Draugr’s you will die by mine. Just thinking that you put us into this situation makes me want to rip your throat out.”

Telona stormed off towards her team members, leaving the Quaestor and Aedile before they could respond. Her disrespectful nature was but a clue to how upset the woman was. Dranik just shook his head and continued looking around while Mune went to settle the confusion. An apprentice quickly informed the Quaestor of the damage that had been done and what would need to be replaced before they could take off again. Sabotage had destroyed a few key internal engine parts and there were no spare parts to speak of. They would either have to get parts from the city or wait for someone from Tridens to bring the parts to them. With the potential of more than one Draugr running amock, either option would be treacherous.

“Lady Telona, what are our orders?” Levathan asked as she approached.

“What’s our weapon situation?”

“We each have a blaster, three clips, and a dagger. I have my Masumune, Shimas has his War scythe, and Brimstone has his Charric Blaster. A couple of us also brought along our training lightsabers for whatever good they’ll do. What is…”

“Very good Levathan.” Telona cut in. “Everyone, keep on your guard and watch your backs. Try to conserve as many clips as you can. Try to not get separated.”

Kazarelth opened his mouth but his words died on his tongue when Mune called for them to regroup near the shuttles once again. The young male Quaestor began to speak of this training mission and the surprising sabotage in as calm a manner as he could. Windos took the opportunity to edge over to his fellow battle team leader.

“So what is really going on Tel?” He whispered.

“Draugr.”

“What? Isn’t that the thing that went loose in the house a while back?”

“Yes. Your apprentices will probably die. Do what you can and stay close to me. How well armed is your team anyways?”

“The standard blaster, a few replacement clips, and a dagger each.”

“Same as mine. It won’t be enough. It took too many of us to bring down just one the last time. I am not sure how many we will be facing or what kinds of enhancements have been done to them.”

“OK everyone, fan out in your respective groups and search this factory for clues as to who or what killed these officers.” Mune ordered once he had stopped reviewing the situation.

“So much for sticking together.” Windos said before ambling off to gathered his team.

Telona set her fiery, rage filled gaze upon Mune. She did not approve of splitting up into search parties but he held his ground against her. The two stood locked in a stare for a few moments before the Elder was forced to acknowledge her team members. Mune turned to find the officer Dranik had freed. He entered one of the shuttles and found what was left of the man. His bloody and torn body the only sign that something was out there just waiting for its next victim.

Oberst

05-05-2007 02:43:33

The Corsair had undergone many minor conversions over the years, in an effort to better tailor the internal operations to the needs of Clan Tarentum. The most useful of these conversions was the conference room adjacent to the bridge, allowing senior personnel to plan out operations and communicate over secure channels with other leaders of the Clan and its military officers. Of course the same could be done on the bridge, but this way information could be controlled and limited. And this was certainly one of those instances where information needed to be controlled.

"General Korras, if you would be so kind to set up a cordon around the Warehouse District," Oberst began, pointing at the flickering holographic map of the City of Scryon. "Light artillery, snipers on the roofs, mine street approaches." The thin human saluted smartly, before his holonet projection winked out. "Dranik, Mune, you guys are in the thick of things, make sure you don't spread out too much until we can land elements of Tridens and a commando team as reinforcements." Looking straight up from the map Oberst fixed his gaze on the Clan's Consul, "We'll need to ensure the public does not know what is going on."

Bloodfyre's gaze remained focused on the city, "Enact a curfew. Inform the population that some criminal elements somehow snuck past our patrols around Yridia IX, and are currently hiding out in the Warehouse District." Aides immediately left the conference room to carry out the instructions.

"Do we know the makeup of the-esse creatures?" the sibilant Yvethan voice betrayed much annoyance and impatience. Before any response could be given yapping filled the conference room. Hissing audibly, the Yvethan glared at Master Sirrus' projection. "Can you shut that thing up?"

"Fluffy is only answering your question," Sirrus' tone carried naked disbelief and wonder, almost implying that everyone else could understand the dog's barking. "It's not my fault that you don't speak Fluffy. Everyone else speaks Fluffy, right?" Sirrus glanced around wide-eyed at everyone else gathered around the holomap, Fluffy barking in the background.

The dogs barking visibly grated on the nerves of Tarentum's Field Marshal, who ground out, "What was down there?" The dog-like Fluffy continued to yap and bark, until an audible thud like a boot connecting with flesh interrupted it. This was followed by the sound of wet meat slapping against a harder surface, and then whimpering.

The Mad Krath's face contorted in a chaotic mix of horror and fury, "Who kicked Fluffy?! I demand to know who kicked my do - *urk*!" Sirrus was cut off in mid rant by an invisible hand squeezing against his throat.

"Sirrus," Master Zero's soft voice cut through the tirade, "You can answer us nicely, or Oberst gets to graft Fluffy to your nether regions, while I rip the information from your twisted mind." A sharp intake of breath signaled that Sirrus could breath once more.

"I'll be good," Sirrus meekly answered, "there were two fully developed Draugr and a dozen and half again Aptrgangr."

"Aptrwhat?" Gladius' Quaestor barked out.

Sith hummed, "Aptrgangr. They're demi-Draugr. Not nearly as powerful. The Draugr are dangerous. They're undead Force Users."

"Sshould we not have control of the-esse thingsss?"

Master Zero fielded the question, "The Draugr are intelligent. If the soul was not completely broken and defiled, they could fight their creator. And if the creator is distracted for even a moment, the Draugr can break free. The power of the Draugr is that great."

"More Draugr. Always Draugr," Dranik's annoyed voice carried through, "Why don't we stop with the Draugr?"

"Well, duh! We're trying to figure out how to completely break them!" Sirrus started, "of course, no. Steiner thought we should make more than one. That way we have a control group. And then he decides that the Aptrgangr would be sufficient to guard the Draugr!" Sirrus paused before continuing in a bad imitation of Steiner's accent, "Vee vill make shure zat zee Draw-gurr ist vell gahr-ded, yah? Zee kong-troll vill not break free, yah? Vee vill drop kong-troll of zee teszt subject only, yah? Und zen vee vill en-shure zee livingk spaze for zee Cl –"

Oberst cut off the audio feed from Sirrus' transmission. "Gentlemen, you heard what you're up against," leveling a gaze at the silent Quaestor of Tridens, "Pick twelve of your best to touch down with you in a hot drop. Welshman will work his way inward from Korras' HQ at the cordon. Once you both have touched down with Gladius, you'll work your way out methodically, get the junior members of Gladius out of there. Your operation begins 4 hours from now." Both men bowed before walking out of the conference room. "General Donitz, prepare your men on the ground to help evacuate the city if we cannot resolve this in seventy-two hours." Donitz saluted before his hologram winked out.

Bloodfyre stared in awe at the still ranting and gesticulating Mad Krath of Tarentum, "I think there's more than just the Draugr down there."

"Perhaps," Master Zero stated plainly, "But, until he calms down we aren't getting much more out of him, unless Oberst and I did make our way to the Asylum to carry out my earlier threat."

Sith blinked in surprise, "Would you really?"

A smile ghosted Zero's lips, "Why do you think he was so quick to cooperate after I made the threat?"

Archean

05-05-2007 13:36:10

Archean and Welshman exited the Conference room and headed to the hanger bay within the Corsair. Tridens' troops were shuttled to the Corsair from Castle Tarentum a short time ago. Walking through the blast doors, Archean looked at the shuttles that arrived and saw Odin standing with Karel, Xayun and Sephiroth. Odin waved to get Archean's attention, The Sith just nodded as he made his way to where they were standing.

“Where are the others?” Asked the Quaestor.
“Some are still being shuttled, others are just over there, taking care of their things.” Odin gestured.
“Excellent. The first order of business is this. Yridia III has come under attack from Draugr, they're reanimated corpses gone awry, Sirrus basically alerted us of this, and not in the good way. 12 of us are to go there and basically take the city back, along with Gladius.” The men nodded.

“When are we to leave?” Asked Xayun.
“As soon as Melkor and Sikes get here, you'll be transported to Yridia III. I'll be leading group 1, which consists of you four, Melkor and Sikes.”
“Understood.” Exclaimed Karel.
“Excellent. Well, I'm going to go and see the situation with Welshman, as soon as Sikes and Melkor arrive, notify me so we can make a move, understood?” The four men saluted and ventured back into the shuttle, gathering their belongings.

The Quaestor calmy walked to where his Aedile was ordering a few officers around the hanger bay, making sure everything is in order for Tridens contingent to take off when the time comes, knowing battles like these, the time will come soon enough.

Welshman

05-05-2007 14:37:43

The first thing that struck the hurried Aedile about the hanger bay was the pervading stench of solvent and machine oil which stung the eyes and clung to the backs of the gathered members’ throats. The second was the vast emptiness of the hanger, capable of holding two dozen of Tarentum’s fighter force but now hollow as they buzzed around in the cold of space ensuring nothing dared set foot within the total exclusion zone around the planet, the deck now clear but for the fourteen Tarenti studiously devouring the data provided to them in the three hours since they were scrambled from Castle Tarentum.

Gliding over the gunmetal grey deck, polished to a shine by the countless feet and endless tracks and wheels that travelled over it, Welshman aimed towards a second group of warriors separate of Archean’s band. The aura around the second group, intense focus and a distinct lack of apprehension and nerves revealed the seniority of the task force that was his to command. Krath Pontifex Troutrooper waited, the amphibian’s mouth gulping down the dry air hoping to extract any of the non-existent moisture. Warlord Rekio, Equite Noctis of Tarentum and Consul emeritus studied the datapad in hand a far off gaze betraying his deep concentration. A second Pontifex of the Krath was also present in Saitou, a look of fierce determination blazing in his green eyes, hands restlessly groping one of his sabre hilts. Beowolf, one of the greatest swordsmen the Brotherhood has ever seen was the fifth member of his team, a cunning warrior and merciless foe. A second Obelisk, Gryffon De’Urtha Cantor, twirled a sabre pommel in one hand, a masterful action that was not far removed from the deadly dance that the sabre could perform in the hands of the indomitable Exarch. The final member looked slightly out of place and as close to nervous as a cold blooded warrior could be, the only member of this illustrious strike team to fall into the Journeyman class, Guardian Celahir stood surrounded by the powerful and great and refused to yield, true spirit. Performing some final maintenance on his blaster rifle he looked up as Welshman’s boot heels clicked to a halt on the alloy floor.

“Friends, I trust you’ve read the briefings. We’re awaiting on the Field Marshal to give us the go ahead to get down there. May the Force be with us.”

Nodding in recognition to his Master, Rekio, Welshman walked towards the Warlord and struck up a conversation about the trials that were sure to lie in front of them…

Windos

05-05-2007 19:37:05

Windos watched from the depth of cowl that covered his head as the four apprentices under his charge started to move towards one of the crates. A cloaked figure that the elderly Krath didn’t recognise approached Zontron, the latest Praxeum inductee. The Tetrarch reached out, touching the figures mind with the invisible tendrils of the force.

“Move!” Screamed Windos as he once more summoned the force, this time to hold the figure in place and allow his apprentices time to get to safety. ‘Lady Telona? A hand?’ Windos beckoned telepathically.

Within moments blaster fire tore through the air, sizzling as most of the shot hit their target. The sweet stench of burning flesh filled Windos’ nostrils and the figure continued to silently try and free itself from its captor’s invisible grasp.

Telona slowly stepped forward, motioning for the Keepers to cease fire. Emotionless, she sliced the still silent figure into five pieces and turned to Windos as he let the pieces drop to the ground with a wet thud.

The Archpriest was panting heavily, two of his apprentices moving quickly to help him stand.

“Think you can do that again?” Telona enquired.

“What do you think I am?”

Telona simply stared at her counterpart with only a slight hint of concern.

“Possibly, but we need a way to distinguish ourselves from them.”

Most of the Tarenti present came running at the sound of blaster fire. Dranik stepped from forward, “What about arm bands… crafted from those uniforms?”

Telona laughed, “Have you noticed that they hide under heavy cloaks, in order to disguise themselves I assume? Why do we not just make sure no friendly forces have their cowls up?”

Now it was Windos’ turn to laugh, “Women swoon at the sight of my face, Lady Telona, that’s why I keep it drawn.”

Mune

06-05-2007 00:00:03

Mune had returned to where the body of the officer lay, he that Dranik had sent to report on the situation. The stench of blood filled his nostrils, and he could not help but wrinkle his nose in disgust. The creature had done an impressive job, he thought to himself. He sighed, and forced the scent of death from his senses, when the sound of blaster fire filled his ears. He did not dawdle a moment away and dashed to where the ruckus came from to see whatever it was crumble by Telona’s lightsaber.

“What a fine mess…” he mutters to himself.

Telona’s eyes snapped to him, “Whose bright idea was it to split up?”

Mune caught her gaze, his eyes gaining sternness to them. “Are you questioning me?”

“I thought that was kind of obvious” she shot back with a light shrug of her shoulders.

There was no time for this, both of them knew this, but, it was easier to yell at each other than anything else. Who he really wanted to yell at right now was Dranik. How did he ever get Gladius into this situation…? Of course, he wondered if Dranik had been given much choice at all in the decision, he had been forced into it after all. Rethink… he reminded himself. What would be the best course? He reviewed the reports in his head, recalling what he had learned from the original reports when he had read them upon becoming Quaestor of the house. How was this scenario the same though, he thought with a bit of a low growl. Only the enemy was the same, at least… as far as they knew. The situation was all its own.

After catching his breath, Windos glared to the bestial Quaestor of the house. “Taking a break while we are in the middle of danger now?”

Mune broke from his thoughts and shook his head to clear it. “Telona is right in that we should stay together at this point… We’ll need those reinforcements; we cannot afford to lose a single man.”

“Again with the ob…”

“Shut up Windos. Until you regain your strength, I need you to back us up in case of trouble; do not jump into the fray of things until you’ve completely recovered. We need to find some better ground; there are too many hiding spots for them where we stand now.” He glances around at his house members, now for the identifying of them if these monsters are going to sneak up on them…

“Cloaks off… they’ll impede movement... We should be able to identify each other if we aren’t wearing them but they are.” He hopes that solves that, tossing his own aside.

Windos was ready to say something again but was quickly cut off before even opening his mouth by Dranik, “You heard him, let us go.”

Mune hoped to hell he was going about this right, this time.

OdinVaaj

06-05-2007 00:16:16

Looking around, with sometimes trying to clear his throat to reduce the stinging effect of the oil reek, Odin finally caught the figure of Sikes Aurelius, who was followed by R’deth and austinrj. They ran all together, carrying a bag each, towards Odin’s place. Before Odin could address something to his Circle One members, a voice rang in his mind. The Tridens Quaestor emphasized his previous statement telepathically, urging the limited members only, as distinguished by the selected team bands.

The Bruth’Kothae nodded to his superior, as he comprehended that the situation had changed. Waiting for a while until his battle team members gathered and managed their panting, he configured the next assignments in his mind for the other two who would stay at home. His right hand slipped inside his robe, taking out his datapad to launch some new information to deliver to his members.

“Master, we’ve brought some blasters, rifles, and the ammos, …and…”

“Okay,…thank you," Odin waved his hand, causing the Journewman to stop his explanation, "However, I have received an order that only Sikes who would depart with us. You two, will remain here, with your new tasks at hand. Check out your data pad for them.”

R’deth and austinrj spoke nothing instead of showing relieved expression. Odin smiled at both, as he continued his explanation.

“Relief from trepidation? I don’t think that it will be appropriate for you, but at least my focus won’t split up too much. You both will be safe here, for this case, and perhaps, I can contact you if we need some help from base. Sikes, get in the shuttle, the departure will be anytime soon…”

The Guardian confirmed the readiness and went into the shuttle to arrange his belongings. Odin took a deep breath as he felt another startling and mystifying mission he would have, around the upshot of undead beings.

“You may return…,” Odin said to the rest of the Circle-one members as he saw Karel walk towards his place.

The protector and novice bowed and turned on their heels, lugging back their bags into the castle.

“Enjoying the teaching? “ Karel asked

“Yeah, learning actually, from both sides,” Odin answered with a pleasant grimace.

“It seems all have been around. Have you notified Archean?”

“He has seen Sikes going into the shuttle… umm, I am eager to see what kind of adversaries we have right now…They were our fashioning arts, right?”

“You won’t like them if they have turned against you.”

Kazarelth

06-05-2007 06:22:44

Lady Murrage and Archpriest Windos made it seem too easy. Nevertheless, the Keepers were relieved to see at least one of these Draugr dead. At least, seemingly.
Kazarelth rechecked his blaster and his preferred Litch blade.
Telona huffed towards him after speaking to Windos. He had rarely seen her like this.
“Good work, Keepers.” She said sharply, and started thinking about a proper battleplan.
Shimas, Tyrus, Jareth, Levathan, Brimstone and Kazarelth nodded. The Hunters had seen quite a few monstrosities; but nothing that amounted to the horrid figure they just helped overpowering.
Kazarelth felt the amount of Force flowing from his old leader to the Draugr. It was almost as if the Draugr was looping it back to Windos. He quickly whipped out his datapad.

The Draugr is one of the deadliest of risen corpses. Of the corporeal undead, it is the one that requires the body and corrupted soul of a Force User. How strong the Force User was in life matters little. What does matter is the strength of will of the Necromancers used to craft and raise this hellish warrior.

Possessing super-human speed, strength and agility, the Draugr is a near juggernaut on the battlefield. And they learn. While newly risen Draugr are terrors, given time and training, they can become elite warriors, serving their creator as nearly unstoppable weapons.


Kazarelth read these lines. He was astonished. A low gasp of horror escaped the Hunter’s lips as he parsed through the rest of the information.

His Tetrarch heard it, presumably.
She motioned him to remove his cloak, which he did, although hesitantly. His slim figure was easily underestimated.
He opened his mouth once again to speak to his Tetrarch.

“And you said that these were released before?” The Omwati asked, incredulously.
“Yes. It was quite some time ago, when I was an Epis.” She answered.
“So, why don’t we have safety precautions against such an attack again?”
“Because we suspected it to be an isolated incident. And, then, Steiner was warned…”
Him” Kazarelth grunted. He recalled an old event, when he was in his previous Battle Team.

He looked over to the initiated Dark Jedi of the Praxeum, pondering over how many of their (as well as his own) lives would be in jeopardy in the near future.

Sith Bloodfyre

06-05-2007 13:22:14

For as long as Sith had known both Oberst and Master Zero, he had learned many things, the least of which being, “let them deal with Sirrus.” Sith had fought long and hard against the Dark Council’s banishment of the Mad Krath and his powers, but had finally secured their nod to lift the ban. And, when Sirrus had returned, Sith had learned quickly. Sirrus was quite the enigma, only understood by those two closest to him.

It was still somewhat fascinating to watch the rant, though. Even with the sound on Sirrus muted, the “show” was still entertaining. And “Fluffy” provided some amusement, too. It wasn’t that bewildering as to why Dranik had folded and submitted to Sirrus’ desires in this instance.

“I think we all know," Sith began, “that the forces we have both upon Yridia III, and heading there, will not be sufficient. As I recall, it took Masters Zero and Shade to stop these things. Very little can be done by others, except to watch and learn.”

That had been the hard part of the last instance; Tarenti were expected to learn from their run-ins with Draugr, even if that lesson cost them their lives.

“You have made thisssss missssstake before,” Donitz’s voice snaked out from past his lips, “and it would appear you have not learned any lesssssssson. I would have prevented Sssssssssirrusssss and Sssssssteiner from ever making thesssse thingssss again.”

It wasn’t that simple, and the looks that Sith, Oberst and Master Zero shot Donitz relayed that idea.

“We could incarcerate both Sirrus and the good Doctor,” Oberst replied, “but such a thing would cut us off from their genius and the good works that they DO put forth, General. As… ‘annoying’ as these instances can be, they are absolutely isolated and limited. They are useful, as well.”

“They teach us of the power that the dead have,” Master Zero remarked, “and of the powers that we possess if we can tap into the knowledge of the Keepers. As our Consul has thought, and should have said, Tarenti are expected to learn from each encounter with a Draugr.”

“And I have learned my lesson, Master Zero.”

The eyes of the group turned to the Consul, whose voice had crept out from underneath his hood to break the short moment of silence.

“I have learned that I must attend to these matters,” Sith stated, “and will leave you gentlemen to direct these matters from here. I trust that you will continue to work with Sirrus as you find time. And, should you speak with the good Doctor, tell him I said hello.”

Oberst nodded slightly as Sith met his eyes. The Consul then bowed slightly in respect to Master Zero, and proceeded to leave. Sith knew that Donitz would follow him for a moment, a practice of advisement the Yevethan had taken on some time ago, when Donitz had begun serving Sith while he had been the High Warrior.

“I will accompany you if you wissshh, Consul,” Donitz said softly.

“My friend, I am certain that Oberst will have use of you here for the moment,” Sith replied. “However, I have no doubt that you and others will find your way to the surface of Yridia III when it is time, and then I will require your assistance.”

Donitz nodded slightly, and extended a clawed hand, which Sith grasped in his own. The two exchanged a quick look of respect and loyalty that was always between them, then Sith turned and headed towards the shuttle bay. Donitz quickly returned to the conference room to continue discussing and planning for the offensive with the Proconsul and Master Zero.

* * * * *

The Corsair had been as calm and collected as the surface of Yridia III was not. Upon the flagship of the ancient Clan, officers had moved about quickly and quietly through the halls, taking care of whatever tasks were given them, or making their way to their stations to oversee their men. The naval crewmen worked with speed and skill, and were likely enhanced by the very presence of Master Zero, who seemed to have an effect upon the ability and service of the entire ship.

The surface of Yridia III could’ve used such an encouraging presence. With the curfew enacted, the local law enforcement was working to have everyone return to their homes and stay indoors. Much of the populace followed orders, but there were some who certainly did not wish to comply with the curfew, and began to riot. Fortunately, local law officials were quite ready to handle the situation; while the riot was still underway, it was being contained and slowly dispersed, either through rioters leaving of their own accord (to escape punishment), or others being gassed into submission and taken to holding cells.

Very few, if any of the population had any reason to visit the cemetery, especially during this crisis. No one noticed the Lambda-class shuttle descend just outside of the local resting place for the deceased. No one noticed the darkly-robed and hooded figure depart from the ship, and enter the hallowed place, or the fact that the gates seemed to be blasted open by nothing but the wind before this person.

The hood pulled low over the person’s face may have given away his identity to those who knew this being, had he not been alone. Sith Bloodfyre tread slowly towards the center of the graveyard, glancing at each of the markers in passing, taking note of the names on each; very few names were known to him. Much of the graveyard was merely local people, but there had been a few here that were either early “departures” from the Clan, or failed recruits. IN life, or in death, Tarentum would be served by those who found solace in its borders.

* * * *

The warehouse district was in turmoil. There were still a few random people located within the district, but fled quickly at the sight of the often-robed, heavily-armed men and women stalking the place. Whatever the mindset of the locals who stayed, they knew upon seeing these members of Tarentum that they were no longer welcomed in the area, and had to leave then. Beyond it all, there was a certain feeling of hatred and malice, as tangible as the smells that populated the area. The streets were littered with trash that had yet to be cleaned up, with rodents and felines in the literal game of “cat and mouse,” and crates and boxes that had been in the process of delivery either to or from the district. Vehicles crowded the streets, either large delivery vehicles, or private forms of transportation that had been left behind in the rush to get out of the district.

Most of the members of Gladius had taken the time to gather into protective groups, recognizing the need to stay together, as had some of the leadership of the House. Mune, Windos, Dranik, Telona, and those with them slowly stalked the streets, feeling the presence of the Draugr, but seeing nothing for the moment.

“It would be nice if Welshman were here,” Windos said softly, unwilling to allow his voice to carry any farther than necessary. “Maybe his optics would be able to pick out—“

“We’ve got company!” Dranik shouted, before ducking behind some crates. Several of the accompanying Journeymen fired off several shots before taking cover as well. Those Tarenti in the street listened for a moment, waiting to hear the sounds of either returned fire, to signify human elements, or perhaps the sounds of their corpse foes. Still nothing. One of the Journeymen became anxious, and decided to take to the streets again.

“I will not hide and wait to be attacked!” The young Guardian fired several shots in rapid succession, only to see the blade of a lightsaber ignite from the hands of a darkly-robed figure, the pop-hiss echoing in the nearly vacant streets. The blood red lightsaber blade deflected each of the shots with practiced ease, and then faded from view as the weapon was deactivated.

“Do not wait to be attacked,” the man’s voice clearly stated, “but I believe you will find that I am not here to attack, but to assist.”

Those members who had been in hiding stepped out from behind the crates and building corners that had offered them protection. Standing several meters away in the middle of the street was the robed figure of their Consul. The Sith Master remained where he stood, in front of several recently-raised Euthanatos, as well as many dozen other lesser corpses.

“I didn’t know you were bringing friends, Sith,” Telona said flatly, walking towards the Consul and the rest of the corpses. “I’d have baked a pie.”

“I took a wrong turn, and ended up at the graveyard,” Bloodfyre replied, shrugging slightly. “They followed me home.”

Dranik

06-05-2007 22:56:30

Dranik felt somewhat relieved to see Sith there with them. “Anyways, Sith its good to have you with us and all, but we are still too vulnerable here. We need to get to somewhere safer.” Dranik said quietly as he clipped his Lightsaber back to his belt and un-slung his SoroSuub x-45 from his shoulder and made sure the scoped blaster rifle was loaded. Sith nodded quietly and spoke “Yes, there was a building up the road a ways that seemed pretty easy to defend. One door, and a few windows that we could use to keep an eye on anything approaching and its easily big enough to hold everyone in it.” Telona and Windos both nodded before Telona spoke up “Then let us head out.”

Dranik nodded in agreement and brought the rifle up to the ready position, he zeroed in his scope for a low magnification as he started to walk forward, sweeping the gun from side to side as he went. Sure, he was setting a slow pace for everyone, but with this they could have some warning as to what was up ahead. Dranik closed his eyes for a moment and called upon one of the Dark Powers of the Clan, the Eyes of the Keeper. When Dranik reopened his eyes, his vision was greatly improved, he could see the body heat emanation off of the people around them, he could hear and feel their heart-rates, and he knew that a good bit of them were scared out of their wits due to their increased heart-rate and how their eyes glanced about quickly. He could also tell, that Telona, Sith, and Windos were the most calm of the group, besides from himself. Mune was somewhat nervous as to this being his first encounter with the Draugr.

The group walked forward for along while, slowly when Sith and Dranik both suddenly stopped and glanced at each other. Dranik could see their cold dead bodies in the distance through his scope and he had no doubt that Sith could somewhat see them as the Consul ignited his saber with a snap-hiss. “Sith, Dranik, what is it?” Mune asked quickly as he, Windos and Telona all ignited their own sabers. “Everyone stay back and be ready” Dranik said quickly as he then put his eye up to the scope of his rifle and zoomed it in a bit more. “We have multiple undead up ahead….I can see them easily enough and I know they are not living. It looks like a few cloaked figures, and some lesser undead, they appear to be skeletal in nature..” Sith nodded slightly as he moved to the opposite side of the street from Dranik and ordered “Telona, Windos and Mune, form up in the middle, don’t let them past you to the rest of the House. We have to protect them.” The three did as they were ordered.

Shortly after the order Dranik fired the first round from his rifle, striking the first of the Aptrgangr square in the head, right between the eyes. The creature’s head snapped back as it fell forward. “Well they know we are here now…” Said Windos with a slight laugh as they all started to move forward again. Dranik muttered out a few curses under his breath before saying “What in the hells! It got back up, I shot the thing right between the eyes!” Dranik fired once again at the same Aptrgangr, this time right in the kneecap, the creature fell once more to the ground but started to crawl towards the group. Dranik sighed “I don’t think I can kill them this way…but I can disable and slow them.” Dranik stated as he fired a few more rounds at some of the other creatures. One shot knocked the skull head of a skeleton creation right from its shoulders, though the undead thing kept lumbering slowly towards them.

“This isn’t working, I can count them all now, we have at least three healthy Aptrgangr and the one I have injured. There are other creatures as well.” Dranik said as he fired some more shots in the direction of the undead, his shots were landing but it wasn’t seeming to effect the Aptrgangr much. Telona, Sith and Mune looked at each other “Looks like we need to find another route.” Said Telona and then Sith nodded and spoke up “Aye…” Dranik called out quickly, cutting Sith off “Guys…we have a problem…What in the hells is tha….” Dranik, himself was cut off by a loud growling sound from up ahead. Before the clan was a large undead wolf creature. “I think it’s the larger version of Fluffy…But they are called B’alams” Sith said as he backed up slightly.

There was a scream from behind the group as a large cat like B’alam landed harshly atop of one of the Apprentices of the house, ripping the poor soul in half with its claws. A second cat like B’alam landed on top of one of Sith’s undead creations. “Quick, everyone down the ally!” Mune barked out as the house started running down the Ally. Sith’s weaker undead were being ripped apart by one of the B’alams and the three Aptrgangr as they had caught up to the group. Dranik quickly slung his rifle over his shoulder and drew his duel Westar-34s and started firing into the group as he and Windos took off after the others. For whatever reason, Windos hesitated with Dranik as he readied his blade and mind for what could happen. Dranik ran half sideways as he continued to fire at the quickly perusing undead. “I don’t know where the cats when…” Dranik said loudly so that Sith and the others could hear up ahead.

One of the cat like B’alams cut Windos off as it jumped from the roof of a building. Windos skidded to a hault, clanked behind him and then quickly reached out, grabbed Dranik by the arm and jerked the Aedile into another ally way. “What was that about?!” Dranik demanded as they started running again as the wolf creature rounded the corner. “You were about to run into one of Fluffy’s larger siblings. Windos stated as they stopped at a dead end, turned around and watched the Wolf B’alam start slowly walking towards them alone. Dranik holstered his pistols in their tactical holsters on his hips and drew his saber. The blade ignited in its classic snap-hiss with its whitish glow. “It looks like we fight now…” Windos said as he moved beside Dranik and the two took a join defensive stance.

***

Sith and Telona stopped and looked behind them “Well, I think we lost the undead for a moment.” Telona said as Sith then called out to Mune “Mune stop the House…we can start walking again. Sith kept looking down the path behind them “They will just have to catch up then…Let us continue and maybe we can meet up.” Sith said before turning to lead the House towards their destination. “Windos and Dranik?” Mune asked quietly “They are still alive Mune, I can still feel them.” Telona responded as she turned to follow after Sith and the rest of the House.

Welshman

07-05-2007 03:39:08

To anyone on the surface looking up, twin streaks of fire thundered from space, two pinpricks of light growing ever larger with every second that passed. Closer to the two fireballs one might be able to distinguish the squashed lambda shape of two Sentinel class landing shuttle, each ploughing through the voluminous envelope of gas that was the planet’s atmosphere at a steep angle, the sheer energy of the shuttles speed and impacting molecules of air creating the kilometres long tail of flame.

Inside the pair of shuttles the scene was diametrically opposed to the inferno raging outside. Archean stood within the troop bay of his vehicle briefing his troops on last minute changes and intel updates, reassuring both his charges and his own confidence and attempting to defuse any nerves which might hinder the mission. Ignorance was bliss. The second shuttle, full of Equites and Elders that knew first hand the horrors of the Dragur began to feel the first twinges of fear peak through their systems, a cold knot of terror spreading from the vaults of their minds to infect their whole body.

Alone in the cockpit of the second transport Welshman’s hands began to shake, almost unperceivable, adrenaline and sheer terror competing to have the greater affect. Frowning at the sign of weakness he clenched his fist and flexed his fingers. The altimeter bleeped, one thousand meters to sea level. Looking out of the viewport Welsh noted the amber glow lamps of the city below, oases of life in a vast ocean of darkness activating the repulsor drive the hull groaned in protest as vast opposing forces threatened to rip the stressed superstructure apart but the ship held, he knew it would. Momentum leaking away every second saw the shuttle’s parabolic decent level out fifteen meters above roof top height. Reaching over to the console hanging above his head Welshman depressed three of the blinking lights, from deep within the ship the rumbling of servos heralded the opening of the drop line egress hatches and rear ramp.

“Go” Whispered Welshman into the comm., his first words since boarding the shuttle.

With grim determination the members of the strike team threw themselves out of hatches, using the Force or grappling lines to halt their descent into the darkness of the warehouse district below. Activating the autopilot Corsair un-strapped himself from the acceleration couch and ran from the cockpit to the nearest drop pod, holding onto one of the gossamer thin wires with one hand he leapt, the cool night air rushing around him throwing back his cloak and causing his hair to billow backwards.

Within seconds his feet made contact with hard, pitted, lichen encrusted duracrete.

“We’re down.” He stated into his throat mic the message transmitted directly to the planning room on board the Corsair that hung in geosync orbit so many many miles above…

Windos

08-05-2007 01:28:59

‘Windos, think you can pull that trick you used on that Aptrgangr again?’

‘We’ll soon see,’ mused the elder Krath. His hands shot out at the approaching B’alam, invisible tendrils snaking from his being and wrapping around the un-dead wolf’s limbs.

Dranik started his cautions approach, slowly closing the ten meter divide between the dark siders and their attacker. The wolf’s jaws viciously snapped open and closed, saliva running from the gaps between the decaying teeth as it anticipated its coming meal.

The wolf’s legs twitched against their invisible hold, fighting the force that the already exhausted archpriest commanded. ‘Dranik!’ Suddenly Windos doubled over, the backlash of the B’alam breaking from his hold causing Windos’ mind to go completely blank for a few moments.

The wolf collected itself with deadly efficiency, pouncing the remaining meter or so between itself and Dranik. The B’alam soon found a lightsabre enter its head between the eyes and exit near its next.

A small cheer of victory escaped the Aedile, cut of quickly as the wolf swung it head towards the sound; a clean hole visible right through the cranium. With a quick flick Dranik severed the beast’s head and two legs.

‘Come on, Windos! We have to catch up with the rest of the house,’ the Aedile yelled as he ran back towards his companion and helped him out of the alley.

Kazarelth

08-05-2007 10:24:36

Sith and Telona slackened their step, as the Equites approached them. Windos, visibly exhausted, could not keep up properly to the Templar’s steps. The entire formation’s eyes seemed to be focused on the tired figure. A few of the Praxeum members were disheartened, seeing their leader so; after seeing the loss of one of the Apprentices.
The few Keepers of the Night, who had served under his guidance, too seemed to be dismayed. Nevertheless, they managed to hide it from most of their comrades.

Sith and Telona, although relieved, were unsure about Windos’ condition, and wanted to head to the building immediately.

Dranik stepped in front of the slow moving House and started sweeping his rifle from side to side. The Keeper’s Sense aiding him in reassuring that no hostile undead were prowling about.

The House came up to the abandoned building. It was exactly as Sith described it. The walls were dank after a recent bout of shower. However, it seemed to be a fine place to host the House’s elements. The windows provided an excellent view of the abandoned streets outside.

The members filed into the single door and took up positions inside the building.
Windos Helkin Bruth’Kothae sat down with much difficulty, as he caught his fleeting breath.
The Praxeum members held out one of the windows that had the least potential of being attacked by the walking corpses. The Keepers of the Night took up an adjacent window that presented an opportunity to alert the more experienced House membership.

Kazarelth had already called on the Clan’s most basic power, following the cue of his Aedile. His rifle had a good portion of the window’s field of view. Although less experienced than the other Hunters of his Battle Team, he was not going to give way.

Telona pondered over her Team’s coordination. She had temporarily taken over the leadership of the Praxeum; their jitteriness adding to her already angry stature. The Quaestor and Aedile exchanged a few words in silence. A small conference of sorts was taking place inside the building, as the injured House waited for its counterpart from Castle Tarentum.

Hardly had Dranik opened his mouth that the experienced members, including himself, turned at the cry of a Journeyman of the Keepers of the Night.
A soft cry had escaped Kazarelth’s lips, as he made out a large group of undead walking slowly, but surely, towards the building which housed the House.

The tense atmosphere intensified as the horrid shapes came into view to the elders.

Archean

08-05-2007 21:35:06

“How far away are you from touching down?” buzzed Welshman's commlink
“Two minutes.” Came the voice of the Quaestor, anxiously waiting to land and scope out what exactly has been ravaging Yridia III.
“Roger that, I'll await your arrival at warehouse two.” Archean pocketed his communicator as he unclipped himself from the beam overhead. The blind human turned towards his team, who were keeping an eye on the goings on outside the shuttle.

“As soon as we land, we head to warehouse two, Welshman will be waiting for us there.” Reported the Sith. The group nodded and unclipped themselves.

“Thirty seconds!” Exclaimed the pilot.
“Here we go.” Breathed Karel, gripping his saber tighter as the shuttle began descending. Odin moved next to Sikes, nodding in approval. Archean stepped towards Melkor, who was inspecting his gear, Xayun and Sephiroth were doing the same, making sure every nook and cranny of their equipment were in the best possible condition for battle.

“Ten seconds!” Shouted the pilot, once more. The duracrete became clearer and clearer rapidly.

“Alright, when the ramp opens, stay on my six.” Archean moved in front of the group.

The shuttle began to descend, a slight bump was felt. They had landed.

The ramp opened, the Dark Jedi swarmed forth, the force surrounding the group was tremendous. Archean lowered himself as he sprinted to a wall, which, according to his map, was part of warehouse one.

“This is good, Welshman should be down this alley.” Archean pointed in front of him as he moved forward cautiously. The warehouse district was like a ghost town, not a creature could be seen.

“We've arrived.” Archean's link re-opened.
“Excellent, see you soon.” Welshman replied.


“I don't like this.” Stated Sikes.
“It's normal to be nervous on your first mission, just stay close and you'll be fine.” Reassured Sephiroth, the Guardian moving closer to the group. Archean raised his hand as they were about to turn the corner, to the front entrance of warehouse two. It was still very silent.

“Hmm...i guess they're just hiding.” Thought Archean to himself. Signalling that he was going to turn the corner, group one assumed their positions. With a single nod, Archean moved around the corner swiftly, hilt in hand, the others followed. Their push was stopped by a goggle wearing body standing in front of them.

“Glad you could make it..” Mused Welshman.
“It's me, I'm always fashionably late.” Quipped Archean.
“Come, we'll group up.” Welshman motioned, as he walked into warehouse two. Group one followed close behind.

As they moved further into the warehouse, more bodies could be seen. Troutrooper and Saitou were sitting down chatting. Beowulf was sitting near them.
“Alright, time to move out. We're going to head to Korras' HQ, he'll be waiting for us to arrive, so let's not waste anymore time.” Welshman shot a joking look at Archean.
“Quiet, you.” Smiled the Warrior. Glancing a look at his group, he flicked his head slightly. “Lets roll.”

The groups moved out of warehouse two, on their way to meet the Adept.

Adien Falaut

09-05-2007 13:56:43

go ahead and strike this post...

Mune

09-05-2007 15:21:46

Mune growled, this was not going well, he knew. With undead slowly encroaching on their hiding spot, they did not stand much of a chance if cornered here. His eyes shot to Windos, he was in no condition to fight, not right now, and he would hate to think what would happen if he tried binding one of the creatures a third time. “Damn it…” he mutters irritably.

Think clearly, he reminded himself; they all had to calm down. “Dranik, we need to protect them…”

Dranik’s attention was caught by his Quaestor, who had been generally quiet for a long while now. He thought maybe Mune had been too scared to talk, maybe he had a plan? “How do you propose we do that?”

“Windos is obviously down for the time being… However, there are still some of us that can do something. Anyone with blasters can offer cover fire while we do what we have to do…” Mune explained, eyes still watching the approaching figures, constantly advancing.

“Do you realize…”

“How insane that sounds? Of course. But, does this situation call for sane responses?” Mune grinned darkly, fangs bared as he delighted in the look of surprise on his Aedile’s face.

Kazarelth overheard the exchange and could not believe himself what they were saying. “You are proposing to walk out there?”

Mune’s glance shifted to Kazarelth for but a moment before he called Telona over to him. “Telona, you will be joining Dranik and myself… We’ll defend this position until we make a retreat to the roof. Kazarelth, you’ll be helping Windos, get everyone to the roof, while offering us as much cover fire as you can so we don’t get mutilated down here…”

Sith watched Mune, as if studying his reactions, but said nothing while Mune gave out orders to the house. Everyone began up stairs to get to the roof, Kazarelth half carrying Windos. Telona was not overly impressed, and wondered just what her Quaestor had in mind. Maybe he snapped with the pressure of things down here. She watches him, and wondered just what was going through his head as he sat himself down on a crate and watched the door waiting.

“They want a fight… lets give them one… but they’re going to have to come and get it…”

The fox chuckled a bit, his mind already focused and weaving the force to his own will. He threaded every strand of power carefully while he had time, steeled himself against the attack they all knew would come soon. He could not risk the backlash that had harmed Windos, he had to come up with another way of doing it, he already calculated out how to warp his telekinesis, but, it would be tricky in battle. Dranik stood ready, his lightsaber activated at his side. Telona had a fixed expression on her face, as though trying desperately to bury any fear she herself had. Sith, he merely watched, he wanted to see what they would do…

Kazarelth

10-05-2007 05:03:14

The majority of the House walked up the stairs to the roof, following Mune’s orders. The clear skies of the setting Yridia Sun. A few birds were flying home.
An illusion of nature, everyone knew. The terraformation by House Tarentum almost magically transformed a barren, rocky world into one with cloudless sunsets behind jade trees.

The lucidity of the dusk in Yridia III seemed to be an oxymoron when put in the same sentence as the undead. The Journeymen did not have the slightest idea about their Quaestor’s strategy. Although they did agree that the remaining Dark Jedi were powerful, they could not see how they would put up against the approaching horde of Draugr, their servile cousins and their ‘pets’.

Kazarelth huffed under the weight of Windos. The older human could barely walk, and it seemed that the young Omwat hoisted the Archpriest against his own level of strain.
As the members took up their positions and fired random shots, the Jedi Hunter placed Windos safely out of reach.

He then took out his own rifle and aimed at the practically invincible horde. His vision, greatly improved by the Force, could see the grey chill of undeath in the oncoming foes.
The Keepers of the Night and the Praxeum were holding out against the scourge admirably… or so. The Omwati Jedi Hunter shouted out orders to his comrades as they randomly blasted the animated corpses.
It appeared as if they were only stunned for a split second before they resumed their lethargic walk towards the entrance of the building.

“Throw down the grenades!” Kazarelth shouted as he let out a burst of fire from his blaster.
Very few members had armed themselves with grenades. Nevertheless, the few complied with his cry, and assortments of grenades hurled down to towards the approaching undead.
Explosions rocked the ground as the defenders quickly flung themselves into the ground to protect themselves. A sonic grenade burst, deafening and disorienting the guard. It took a while for the Dark Jedi to gather themselves, as they were forced to regain their positions and fire back.
Levathan quickly caught Kazarelth’s attention as he gestured, somewhat triumphantly, at the immobilized B’alams and Aptrgangrs; stuck to the ground due to a stray glop grenade. They also saw that a few had incinerated. Possibly, a thermal detonator.

However, they were confused due to the sonic grenade. Kazarelth cursed whoever had the intelligence to throw that.

At that moment, one of the Praxeum members cried aloud: “They are in! They are in!”

Time, seemingly stopped for a time.

A core group of the Draugr had reached the door and was bashing it. Blasters could do nothing. Kazarelth was dazed. He took out his Tenloss DX-2 and tried several times to fire at the Draugr. But, his mind was clouded, and his ears were not functioning properly.

Sounds of ignition of lightsabers pervaded throughout the ground floor. The elder members had finally come into the fray.

And then, an unsettled yell bubbling with cheer erupted as one member saw another oncoming army. An army of Dark Jedi.
It seemed that Tridens, at long last, entered the battle, lightsabers blazing.

Welshman

11-05-2007 09:02:52

The fourteen warriors bustled down the canyon like alley, tall vertical walls towering into the air around them, water coursing down the marred surfacece to pool on the permacrete floor. Welshman stared in disgust as the stagnant water began seeping into the hem of his dark grey cloak, staining the monochrome a deep black. Footsteps hitting the puddles created sounds which echoed noisily and eerily down the black aisle leading to the warehouse up ahead. Drawing to the fore of the group Welshman sweeped the impenetrable gloom with his optics, radar waves pulsing from a module to form a map of blues and greens in his mind, a glowing spot burning bright in the IR spectrum high on a roof to their fore drew Welshman’s attention, focusing and zooming on the spot a large, dark oblong shape could be made out nestled within the red blobs arms. They’d ran into the Tarentum picket line.

“Stop.” Whispered Welshman, arm upheld in the agreed sign to halt their advance. Disengaging the optical modes he turned to see Archean struggling forward through the masses to reach him.

“What’s up?” Hissed the warrior, adrenaline pumping through his body placing him on the edge.

“Sniper. Korras’ HQ must be in that building over there. Send the recognition code so we can pass through without having to kill our own people.”

Nodding understanding Archean fumbled with his utility belt and removed a secure commlink, depressing a handful of buttons in a seemingly random process, a few seconds later an answering squelch came over the channel, it should be safe.

Waving his hand forward the members of Tridens bomb-burst forward covering the hundred meters of ground between them and the large, modular building which served as an ad hoc HQ for the friendly reinforcements which had just began pouring onto the world.

----------------------------------------------

Dark Adept Korras frowned as he consulted the holo-map which dominated the sunken pit plunging into the floor of the disused warehouse, a map of green vector lines, scant few blue friendlies and sporadic flashes of unknown yellows or red hostiles. The high pitched whine of machinery and computers supporting the map in the room transcended mere human hearing and instead registered as a dull vibrating at the back of everyone’s head. Fancy machinery or not, the odds still looked dire.

“So what are we up against?” Asked Archean, fingering a DL-44 pistol he’d just liberated from an arms cache.

“Gladius are holed up in this structure here. They are either seeing things and going against the obvious directive of keeping quiet… or there are a few more undead then we were led to believe.”

“What do you mean? I thought there were only two Dragur and eighteen Aptrgangr on site at the location?”

“Yes well, it seems either intel was in complete or as I mentioned Gladius are seeing phantoms. Anyway, your mission remains the same as before, link up with Gladius and bring them back so we can initiate a counter attack before the fleet has to sterilise this city. Archean, you can take your group in through the sewer system, we have maps which show that one route will take you straight into Gladius’ base. Welshman, you can go through the city…”

“And through that big cloud of yellow.” Spat Rekio from his vantage point by a holocomm unit, the very human fear tracing its way into his brain, there were things even old Consuls of Tarentum should fear.

“It makes more sense for us to follow this path, even if the air is a bit dry… regardless the young ones would be butchered moving through such a density of creatures.” The piscine Mon Cal Pontifex replied.

“Who you calling young ones…” Began Archean only to be quietened as a Force shove from his Aedile knocked the wind out of him in one loud whumpf.

“He has a point Quaestor. What about the commando team we were promised?”

“Deployed and en route to Gladius, we get intermittent SitReps from them, so far no contact with the undead. My artillery is following them ready should they wish to call them down however that really is last resort.”

All of a sudden a single quadrant of the map began strobing a deep scarlet colour, an area which a few minutes ago had been one of the few blue zones on the map. Gladius, it seemed, were being overwhelmed.

“I take it we’re leaving?” Interjected Archean, some of his earlier good cheer now employed as a façade.

Korras could only nod.

----------------------------------------

The outside air was quiet and serene interrupted only by the far away screeching of blaster rifles and high calibre slug throwers firing, distance giving them an almost relaxing rhythm. An unnatural scream broke what remained of the tranquillity, raising the hairs on the back of Welshman’s neck.

Looking up into the velvet darkness of the night sky Welshman made out the triangular shape of the venerable Tarenti cruiser holding position in a low orbit and wondered once more why they simply didn’t employ her massive batteries to cleanse the area of the undead. After all, all it would cost would be a few journeymen…

“Celahir! Up front and centre, you know where those blasters are coming from, your our scout. Head that way and keep your eyes, ears and Force senses open for surprises. We’ll be right behind you.”


---------------------------------------------

Archean wrinkled his nose in disgust as he descended the ladder into the vast sewer system running underneath the city, a pungent smell of rotting feaces, food and animals all decaying in the dead water which threatened to spill into his boots as it was so deep.

"I get all the cool jobs..." He grumbled to himself.

SikesAurelius

11-05-2007 16:34:26

As he prepared to fight, the daze that he had been in since returning to base and immediately being ordered to the aide of his former housemates. The weakest member of the expedition, Sikes was decidedly agitated. The guardian did not know what they were up against, but he felt the concern of his master, and was more concerned by that than anything else.

Afterof Tridens fanned out and entered the fight, Sikes drew his personal DL-44 and his standard issue pistol from their shoulder holsters and let the rest of the group move ahead of him a bit. There was nothing he could achieve in close combat.

Putting his marksmanship skills to the test, he reached out to seek for targets with the force as he ran lightly behind his superiors.

Still vaguely unsure as to what his leaders wanted him to do, he stayed close to his master, hoping to get in some shots while the Dark Jedi were engaged with their lightsabers.

The thoughts racing through his mind led him to two conclusions, without a lightsaber he could not defend himself in any sort of close combat fighting, and second, that he definitely needed more firepower.

He followed Welshmans gaze upwards and saw the Corsair floating high above, and a brilliant idea came into focus.

Odin looked back at his apprentice as he sensed a sort of elation coming from him, “What is it Sikes?”

The Guardian grinned and held up his beckon call, “Help is on its way.”

On the Corsair, a scarlet and grey Cloakshape lifted off, transmitted an automated egress code, and left its berth.

The good feelings Sikes was feeling about having his fighter stemmed from the somewhat curious ability of the ships laser cannons to be quickly removed and run off the small portable generator stowed in the fighters little cargo bay. He had no intention whatsoever of leaving the fighter on the battlefield, and after removing his weapon, he transmitted a second code to send it back to the ship and headed off at his masters side.

Odin stood there and chuckled, "Does mine have one too?"

Sikes replied with a straight face, "Yes master."

Rekio Corsair

13-05-2007 13:51:24

The family of Yridians huddled helplessly in the corner. The windows, doors, and entrances were barricaded as best they could: furniture, personal effect, anything that might keep them safe. The children wept and the women trembled to hold back their own distraught during their efforts to calm, and most importantly silence them. The men peered feverishly out the cracks in the now blockaded windows. Some prayed for salvation; other for forgiveness. All of them held on to the hope that somehow, someway this terrible nightmare would end. It was a scene familiar to all parts of the Yridian city, now over run with forsaken creatures of the undead.

Unfortunately, it was already too late for them. From outside, came a the most terrifying growl the poor factory workers thought a creature could ever make. The woman screamed, and that caused the children to cry louder.

"Keep them quiet, Suzan" Drasd husked with urgency as he quickly fled from the window and to his family’s side.

As if it were possible to do so more than they already did, the family clenched to each other and tried to sink into the nigh-protective shadows. They waited, and for a brief moment, they thought they had escaped the low growling and the snorting of ground now gone from their audible detection. For a moment, they were flooded with the relief of being live for another few moments. But they were wrong.

With great force, the dire wolf burst down the barricaded doors; first clawing at the door and then penetrating their makeshift barricade with its muzzle. It immediately snapped at its surroundings, only pausing to steps back and ram the doors again, making it give more and more the family did not want to give each time.

The wife, Suzan, shrilled at the sight of the monstrous wolf as it worked its way in. Drasd, in a panic to save his family, picked up a splintered board and charged the entryway. Again, the wolf lunged at the doorway and snapped its powerful jaws; but this time, they filled with chewy flesh and crunchy bones rather than the emptiness of the night. The vice-like grip on the man tore his body in two, to the horror of his survivors.

It smelt fear. That was what it liked most of all. Fear. The very smell of it drove it into a frenzy of which death was the result. Of course, it could not sustain itself from fear, that was a pleasure. Instead, it needed flesh to maintain its massive body.

As it slings its head form left to right, dripping with blood; the wolf glares at the family, its next victims already in sight. Its sensitive hearing could hear their hearts racing faster and faster as it drew near. A few steps closer and the mother’s frightened shrills bloom into screams of terror. The wolf lunges at its prey, but at the same time, there is a swift motion in the darkness. A distinct snap-hiss and a radiant maroon glow fills the room. The wolf, never reaches its prey as it is intercepted and cleaved in half, all within the blink of an eye. Then all fades back to silence and darkness.

First in shock, then overwhelmed with gratitude for the guardianship of her family; the sobbing woman got to her feet and moved to thank their savior. Little did she know that the figure in front of her was the most terrifying horror of all. With a snip-hiss, he lunged forward toward them as their deaths grew ever closer. Seconds later, all which remained in the room were the hollowed screams of a painful death and the eerie red glow that light the room.

Anshar

13-05-2007 22:41:50

Anshar stood out on his balcony of Castle Messina, his private home and the centerpiece of the Estate Proper within the Barony of Messina. The barony was a gift from Clan Tarentum to Anshar, in return for his previous service as Consul and for his current service as a Tarentae. Not just every member of the clan got a personal estate. Despite serving on the Dark Council, Anshar still had strong ties to Tarentum. Though reputed to be fair minded in his dealings as Headmaster, there were always whispers and rumors that Anshar favored Tarentum’s initiates, pushing them through the academy, while holding back the other clans. But, they were only rumors.

The entire Barony of Messina, situated in the mountainous region of Yridia III, was self sufficient in terms of energy, and the peasants who lived in the area could sustain themselves for some type by living off the land. Anshar had selected the site for its seclusion, using the castle as a retreat from the Brotherhood, and even the clan from time to time. No one was permitted to enter the Estate Proper without Anshar’s express permission. And, it’s not like the home was anything grand. While referred to as a castle, the building was, in fact, nothing more than a large house. It overlooked the valley below, but it was by no means on the highest peak.

Still, the view gave Anshar a perfect of the large dot that was the Corsair as it sat in orbit over the city of Scryon. When the ship had first appeared, Anshar had not paid much attention to it. When it had remained, and when craft had launched from it, Anshar paid closer attention. Now, the ship remained in orbit and Anshar had but one recourse. Stretching out with the Force, Anshar let his senses stretch the vast distance to the city, itself largely powered by the hydroelectric generators along the river that ran through Messina. From the city, Anshar sensed fear, panic, death, and the life of his clan hanging tenderly in the balance. He also felt the presence of many things he could not identify, except one: draugr. He had been Quaestor when Gladius had first encountered the creature; he had been “tested” then. This was different, however. This was not just a test with a lone draugr.

Anshar moved swiftly, grabbing his two lightsabers and his razor sharp crystalline knife, and he made his way to his ship. He would go to the aid of his clan, as any Tarentae should. This time, he was determined to destroy what was in the shadows. The first time, he had only been an equite. Now he was a master, a master who had experimented greatly in his own areas of study. He only hoped that his mastery of the Force could do something to help his clan.

The Volfied blasted off, tearing towards Scryon as fast as Anshar could make it go. "What have they unleashed upon us now?" asked Anshar to no one in particular. Momentarily, Anshar would have to make contact with the Corsair and from then on, he was truly in on the mission.

OdinVaaj

14-05-2007 00:53:07

“Sikes...,” Odin called the Guardian, seeing his apprentice walked towards the other branch of the tunnel,”This way, the others have already moved ahead. Don't be left behind”

“Oh,” Sikes gasped as though he was forced to be back to the dirty tunnel reality once more after traveling on a path of mind .

The Guardian ran slightly after his mentor, whom also made his way to group with the rest of Archean's team. Without warning, both Journeymen felt the tiny hairs of the back of their necks began to raise. Chilling air were enveloping the dimming tunnel, alerting the Dark Jedi to the threat that might come, as they reduced their pacing.

Odin unclipped his hilt and in a blink the red energy sprang to life, illuminating the sewer while Sikes gripped his blaster.

“Something watches us...I sense...,” Odin's sentence went incomplete as he felt a wave of living form drop on his back.

Such a weight made the Knight fall on his knee. A grunt escaped from his mouth as a slight roar blew through his right ear along with the scratching claws on his shoulders.

“A big wolf!” Sikes yelled as his fingers pulling the blaster's trigger, aimed at the creature's head.

Instinctively Odin swung his blade backward, to split the creature in two. But that animal directly changed its intention, as it evaded the slash. Jumped to a side of the tunnel wall, it turned its way towards Sikes whom launching the spraying bolts at the huge creature.

One of the bolts hit its leg, and the huge wolf limply dropped before the Guardian, as in split seconds a shadowy wave also accompanying Odin to leap, slashing down its own lightsaber at the animal. The B'alam finally stopped roaring, being split into three distinct pieces, with the smell of burned flesh rose in the air.

"It was so close... this time blaster did help," Odin said with relief, trying to manage the pain on his shoulders. Patted his apprentice on the shoulder, the Sith Knight muttered,"Good job."

Sikes nodded in trembling, watching the separated body of the B'alam before him.

“Thanks, Xayun,” Odin looked at the Sith Warrior turning off his blue blade

"We should be more careful, the pet had been around here, so at least the Aptrgangr must be close enough," Archean spoke,” Let's move on, and stick together.”

Welshman

17-05-2007 08:19:47

Captain Ban of the Tarentum militia hankered down behind the large, open dumpster and thanked the Force that his paymasters believed in for the bug eyed full face mask and rebreather he wore blocking out the inhuman stench of decaying rubbish. The overlays on the compound eyes painted soft hues and lines onto his otherwise blinded eyes, a set of night vision goggles that had allowed the elite commando unit to progress the two kilometres from the warehouse to this location three hundred meters from the encircled house. From his vantage point amidst the flies and carrion eaters he could see B’alam prowling through the dark, lupine gait and features slinking into the darker shadows which existed between buildings.

“Platoon two, get ready to provide some suppression fire. We’ll try and extract them from the front. Platoon one and three, prepare for advance.”

“Sir, we have a problem.” hissed his second in command, pointing to a gap across the street from Gladius’ firebase.

Following his subordinates outstretched hand Ban’s gaze was interrupted by a sight that sent shivers down the Bakuran’s spine. A cold dread that settled at the pit of his stomach and refused to yield, his stint in a cockpit against the Yuuzhan Vong a few months ago barely matching to the terror that was now like a tumour, eating away at his gut. There, not half a kilometre from them was a Draugr surrounded by lesser undead known as Aptrgangr. Before a plan became apparent a laser bolt scythed from the rooftop of the surrounded building and melted a fist sized crater in the Dragur’s chest, the only other sign of the impact was the questioning gaze the creature directed to the roof.

Gladius it seemed were still alive.

-----------------------------
Celahir picked his way through the abandoned thoroughfares and paved streets of the seemingly abandoned city, Force senses stretched he could feel the panic bottled away inside the homes of the planet’s citizens. The order for martial law had come quickly and abruptly catching many people off guard, evidence of those who had refused the order were evident to see, brutalised corpses scattered here and there as the undead had wrought their chaotic way through the city having no motive but to kill.

The flash of warning Celahir received from the Force rose into his mind like an alarm, before a breath could escape his lips the creature was on him, a humanoid creature with death in its cataract infested eyes and black robes doing much to hide the decaying flesh but nothing to cover up the rotting smell that assaulted the Guardian’s nose. A silent howl escaped the zombie’s lips as it began raining blows on the beleaguered Journeyman.

The snap-hiss of activating lightsabres brought some hope to the Guardian who was now beginning to black out, darkness beginning to encroach on his vision as fist after fist rained down on his now bruised face. Within seconds of the assault starting Troutrooper and Beowulf had ignited their weapons and were leaping to the fray, Force assisted muscles springing them the ten metres that separated the main party from Celahir the scout.

Falling on the enemy Beo and TT proceeded to dismember the creature, lopping off limbs and finishing off with TT decapitating the foul abomination.

“You need to be more aware Guardian.” Said TT as he laid a hand on the battered Guardian and allowed the healing powers of the Force to pool into Celahir’s body and repair ripped tissue and stitch together ruptured veins.

“We best get moving, I’ve received a rather intriguing communiqué from the commando team, it seems one of the Dragur has been spotted. At the current rate we’ll be at the outpost in ten minutes”

Taking Celahir’s position at the lead Welshman activated his optic’s radar and set off at a jog, heat generated by his muscles warming up his sodden clothing until a faint haze seemed to surround the Warlord.

--------------------------------

Ban sighted along his A-280 rifle and flicked the reticule from creature to creature, one Dragur, ten Aptrgangr and two dozen of the wolf-like B’alam. A formidable barrier to any extraction attempt Ban thought wryly to himself.

“Squad, ready grenades. I want a full spread on the road in front of the building, hopefully it’ll take out some of those scum. If not, it should at least draw some of their attention from our esteemed brothers in that building.”

“Captain, it seems someone might have beaten us to that…”

Three silver orbs dropped from the roof and bounced off the floor in the midst of the assembled throng of miscreants, one sprayed a fine mist into the air which solidified into a web of gel pining anything it touched to the floor, the other orb erupted into a wave of sound rupturing the ears of those that possessed them whilst a blinding crack and rush of heat heralded the detonation of the third metal sphere, a thermal detonator which gouged a three meter crater into the street.

Enraged, the undead surged forward and bounded through barricaded windows, doors and in the Dragur’s case simply smashing open a wall and steaming in.

“They’re in!” Howled a thin voice carried by the wind from the top of the building, it seemed that Gladius were in for a fight.

“Lock and load gentlemen, we’re going in. Lets see if we can hold out till Tridens gets here, prepare for close quarters combat.” Flicking the safety off he lined the rifle up on the nearest B’alam and let loose a stream of blaster bolts that reduced the creature’s head to ash.

Kazarelth

18-05-2007 03:23:51

It took a while for the Journeymen’s vision to become a little less misty.
“That is no lightsaber…” Kazarelth watched, as he watched Ban’s men wade through the corpses scattered about, with the blaster fire, which they had mistook for lightsabres.

“Keepers! Provide covering fire to our rescuers. Praxeum, wait at the door to help our elders with fire support!” The Jedi Hunter shouted as he picked up easy targets to disrupt.
The others complied with their temporary leader’s command.
His vision slowly improved again with a little support from the Force. He was still filtering out the remaining undead standing between the militia and the door when an undertone in the Force caught his divided attention. Simultaneously, the other Hunters turned towards the entrance where it originated.

***

“It seems that they have reached the rooftop!” A soldier yelled to Ban, “the covering fire is gone. And, I think I can see sabers, Captain!”
“Aargh! Rip them apart with the entire available detonators soldier!!” he shouted with fury mixed with fear, unbuckling two grenades from his belt and calculatingly throwing them towards the lupine undead pack.
They landed amidst the confusion and obliterated an entire ‘legion’ of undeath.
The others did not stop to look at their annihilated fellows and entered the building. All Draugr.
“Abandon suppressive fire. Move to the offensive.” He ordered the second platoon with his comm. console.
“Sir. Yes, Sir.” The lieutenant complied as he gestured his platoon to move forward. The entire machinery moved to the door, and blasted away at the scraps of Aptrgangrs.
“And pray like hell that these vile damnations don’t have reinforcements in the area.” He muttered slightly to himself.

He assessed the situation quickly, as he waited for the second platoon to regroup.
“Third platoon, get inside the door and clear up an opening inside, second platoon will follow you. I and the first will climb up to the roof and scissor them. Now go!”
He didn’t wait for the affirmation from the two lieutenants as he hastily switched to a harpoon climber and scaled the walls of building.

***

The Jedi Hunters atop could barely do a thing as they saw their elders weave poetry with the viscous ink of the Force around them with their many-coloured glowing quills. A few random shots were fired, but they quickly realised that they had to switch to close-quarters combat with what crude melee weaponry they had managed to bring along.

Windos had partially recovered and was using his mastery over the weapon’s fighting style to slash through the Draugr that challenged him. He was being tested to his limit; his enervation showing in his eyes.
A few close-calls were avoided with the Aedile and Quaestor of the House working in tandem to avoid mischance against the Journeymen and the Archpriest.
Telona swerved away from one Draugr to the next, chopping up the endless leak of undead from the door. She focused every bit of her former knowledge to deal devastating blows to the undead.

At that precise tick, a soft whirring and clanking sounded behind the Journeymen at the periphery. Brimstone almost jumped with glee as he saw the Tarentum Militia Captain.

“Reinforcements have arrived, my friends.” Ban said, matter-of-factly as he readied his A-280 for deadlier, shorter bursts of fire.

Telona

20-05-2007 02:29:21

With the sudden supply of additional living Dark Jedi, the undead stream started to scatter. The teams from Tridens moved confidently forward. It was all too easy. These swarms of undead creatures were retreating into the falling dark of night as if an unheard command had been issued. Perhaps they were regrouping or just waiting for the right moment to attack all the Tarentum members. As tempting as it was to follow the retreating corpses, Tridens had a goal to achieve.

The building that Gladius had hunkered down in looked disastrous. The door, windows, and parts of the walls had been busted in. A cheer of triumph echoed out as the last of the assailing undead fell. The house had held its ground with minimal damage to speak of. Yet as Gladius cheered and greeted its fellow clan members, one person was not taking part in the victory. Telona looked over the pieces of rotting flesh and bone that littered the floor. She kept going over the battle in her mind. These weren’t Draugr. They had gone down too easily.

In the past it had taken a whole group of Equites to just contain a single Draugr. There were no way these things were remotely the same. Even if they had been newly created Draugr the numbers would have killed them all. Add in the wolf and cat like beasts, Telona was convinced this was something on a different scale. She picked up part of a slimy arm that had been severed. Even after being cut off, it still pulsed with a strange power.

“Draugr aren’t able to use the Force. Are they?” The woman asked as Sith walked up behind her.

“What do you remember of your first encounter?”

Telona sighed. She had tried to forget that day Gladius was attacked and to some degree had succeeded. Burying herself in various jobs and study of the Death Dealer path had helped. She couldn’t remember what exactly had transpired. It was just a blur of fading memory now. All she remembered was that it took the combined effort of most of Gladius’ Equites to stop the Draugr and that the creature seemed to eat the souls of its victims. Had it some kind of signature in the Force or used some kind of power? She didn’t think so but she reminded herself that ‘improvements’ could have been made since that time.

“How many people live in this city?” She asked.

Sith turned away to start organizing things. He didn’t answer but left her to figure things out.

******

A starry night had settled across the city on Yridia III. Despite the sudden curfew that had been imposed all seemed calm and quiet. The weather was comfortably cool and perfect. Ignoring the warnings, most households left their windows open to the fresh air as they settled down to sleep. Many would not wake up to regret such a small transgression.

Death crept silently through the city. It granted victims eternal sleep while it stole their life and body. Some were not so lucky. They fed the ever-hungry B’alam. The worse came to those who had sensitivity in the Force. Their very souls would not find peace as the cold killers slipped through the darkness.

Anshar

22-05-2007 15:35:50

Night had settled, but even as he approached the outskirts of the city, Anshar could sense fear and death in the city, and it wasn’t coming from just the clan members anymore. This was hostile terrain, made all the worse by the night, especially for Anshar, who had his own troubles seeing in very low light. At least the Force provided some sort of counter to that, but when dealing with the undead, even the Force could prove unreliable at times.

Anshar had wanted to land further into the city, but strict orders from Oberst and Sith had locked the city down, even to the point of instituting a no fly zone. What troubled Anshar the most is that the orders had been relayed by one of the staff officers, and not Oberst himself. The staff officer had insisted that the Marshall was otherwise occupied, but Anshar was not entirely sure he could trust that. The last time something like this had happened, it had been Oberst, along with Steiner, Zero, and others, “testing” the clan. Sith had been in on it too, and Anshar silently promised himself that he would not let them get away with it this time. Still, a nagging thought tugged at Anshar’s mind. This was happening on Yridia III: not the Sword’s Sheath, not Castle Tarentum, nor any other isolated area. Whatever was stalking through this city could get out and wreck havoc to the entire planet.

Anshar had entered the deserted streets of a residential area. A scream was heard in the distance, but there was nothing Anshar could do. This particular area seemed to be devoid of anything. Well, almost, until a loud burst of wailing drew Anshar’s attention. Looking to his right, Anshar saw a figure running towards him. His eyes were still adjusting, so he could not make out any specific features, but it appeared to be a young Yridian girl. The fear flowed off of her and assaulted Anshar’s senses. The girl collapsed at his feet, muttering to herself and crying. Her right arm was practically shredded and blood stained every article of clothing she had. Glancing up, Anshar saw two large, four legged creatures approaching. He didn’t need to see their facial features to know that they were B’alams. He had only heard of the creatures: he had never seen them. Perhaps unique amongst the members of the clan, especially the Tarentae, Anshar found the idea of raising the dead to be vile and disturbing.

The creatures split, one moving to Anshar’s right, the other to his left. Typical animal behavior, thought Anshar. Casting the quickest of glances at the girl, Anshar noted that she had fainted. Without a second thought, Anshar brought out both of his lightsabers and he took a defensive posture, keeping one blade in between him and each of the B’alams. The one to his right had started circling back to the front; the other remained behind him. Whether through sheer instinct or sparked by the Force, Anshar suddenly ducked, letting his mantle fly up into the outstretched paws and face of the B’alam from behind. As the creature struggled with the sudden change in its prey, Anshar met the other B’alam’s charge. Though his blue blade found the creature’s neck and severed the head, the force of the attack pushed Anshar back. Dropping both of his lightsabers as he fell to the ground, Anshar immediately rolled to his right. His best bet was to keep moving.

As he rose up, he found that the other B’alam had freed itself from the mantle cage. Anshar wasted no time. Taking a quick, but deep breath, Anshar held out his left hand and a whitish-blue orb appeared in it. A lance of the energy shot out, striking the creature, killing it. Though Anshar disapproved of raising the dead, he saw no reason to abandon the research that the clan could offer. When combined with his access to materials as an Elder and as Headmaster, Anshar had entered a whole new realm of the study of life and death. Pure Force energy from Anshar’s body had struck the creature, but not without a price. As he retrieved his lightsabers and immediately sliced up both creatures into dozens of pieces, Anshar felt the soreness in his hand. He knew that if he could see it in the light, it would be red, much like sunburn. More powerful attacks would actually burn the hands. It was not something to trifle with.

Putting his lightsabers away, Anshar picked the young girl up and entered a small corner pharmacy. Clearing the counter, he laid the girl on it. Using both the Force and conventional medicines, he healed her arm as best he could, secretly wondering how many would have done anything else for the girl. As he left, he sealed the building off. It would be a long night and he needed to find others in the clan. Stretching out with the Force, he located a cluster of the clan, and proceeded as quickly as he could. Two B’alams had proven easy enough to defeat once. Anshar doubted he would be so fortunate again.

Oberst

23-05-2007 01:05:46

Sirrus became much more amicable once Zero demonstrated that he could rip Fluffy into bits of meat, bone and fur from such a great distance. The entire affair was over with in less than a minute, but it served to get his point across. Cooperate now, or things become more painful. Sirrus stared agape at the pieces of the B'alam before reciting a litany of what he and Steiner had been developing. The Draugr and Aptrgangr were a given to Oberst, his signature was one of the two on the writ authorizing their creation, but the advancements the two psychopaths had made were remarkable. One of the engineered Draugr, although physically weaker than normal was capable of crafting and controlling lower level undead, including B'alams and the zombies that the Watchers were known for summoning. The other Draugr broke the equipment used for stress tests.

The list of undead continued. In addition to the high level flesh constructs, there were contained souls brought back and twisted for Sirrus' experimentation. Some of these spirits and ghosts could posses bodies, others sucked life like some corpulent senior members of other clans sucked marrow from animal bones – greedily, as if they would disappear soon. There were the B'alams, animals pieced together from bits and pieces of other animals depending on the need of the maker – felines for stealth, canines for tracking, ursae for strength, the list went on. The Suangis, flesh eating corpses that became less lethargic and more energetic, more agile and faster the more they feasted. The Matanngal, flesh eating corpses that can assume a more seductive form and feast on their victims while in the throes of passion.

"These can prove quite useful to the Clan," Master Zero began, "if we could avoid them running around out of our control."

"The price we pay for trying to accomplish full sentience," his former apprentice replied evenly. Oberst played with the brim of his cap as he read through the notes sent from the Sword's Sheath. After a moment, he looked up from the laboratory notes, "Would that we had better controls in place. We could use Lord Khyven and Lady Nilani for this."

Zero arched a brow, "I shall discuss it with Master Shade. We might need to grant a large boon for this."

"Request sample 77-C-77 from Sirrus," Oberst picked through his words carefully, "it is something Master Shade has been wanting for a very long time."

"And that would be?"

Oberst stood up, taking his cap from the meeting table before carefully donning it. "My blood." Oberst exited the conference room, leaving his former Master to stare curiously at the broad back as it made its way to the bridge proper.


* * * * * *

The communications pit on the bridge of the Corsair squealed and screeched from interference to the audio only feed. Crewers pointedly kept to their tasks, hoping they remembered nothing of the information that was being passed over their heads. They had learned the hard way that retaining that information could be detrimental to their health. The pit officer's Adam's apple bobbed continuously as a nervous tic. The more he heard, the more he tried to forget information. Sweat broke on his brow, as he silently wished the Field Marshal would take his conversation to a more private area, where he didn't have to worry about overhearing anything. The young lieutenant had risen to his position after his predecessor had made the mistake of bringing up one of the Marshal's communications, inquiring how the Marshal's "date" had gone. Lieutenant Dodd remembered that day well, after all, he had been promoted from Ensign to Lieutenant that day. He'd also fainted on the bridge that day, after seeing his late commanding officer's head being slammed against a nearby bulkhead repeatedly. The skull had made a dull, hollow ring against the metal bulkhead. The ring broke up the errant screams of the late Lieutenant K'orr. Eventually, the ringing gave way to a sickening, wet crunch. But that did not stop the slamming of the skull against the bulkhead. What eventually stopped it was that the grip was lost as the skull lost its shape and flattened out – blood and brains sloshing about the deck and bulkhead.

Dodd's head swam. He could have sworn he heard the other party say it. "Di'kutla." The other party had sworn at the Marshal. A whimper escaped Dodd's lips as his bowels loosened and he lost consciousness, fainting for a second time in his own pit. This time soiling his uniform with his own waste, rather than the blood and brains of his commanding officer.

* * * * * *

Oberst paused in mid sentence as he heard the tired, weighty slump of a body hitting the floor behind him. His nostrils were then assaulted by a foul stench. Frowning, he stared a non-com, who hastened to drag the unconscious officer away. Turning back to the microphone he intoned, "Unfortunately, I have had no recent communications with your family. Your brothers are currently engaged in operations on the planet surface below."

"I would like permission to link up with them, Marshal," Sashar's voice carried crisply over the static.

"I cannot, unfortunately allow that at this time, Exarch," Oberst straightened the tunic of his uniform, "Still, I have a shuttle departing Yridia IX on its way to the Corsair. I will allow you to board that shuttle and meet me here. I am awaiting more information on the situation below before I put a definitive plan into action."

"Understood, Marshal." The line was cut. Oberst let the activity of the bridge wash over him as he made his way from the pit to the command catwalk above.

Welshman

24-05-2007 04:57:14

Three months previously

The actinic brightness of the sterile room forced its way down the Dean’s ravaged optical nerve and into his brain. Lab apparatus cluttered the nearby benches, tubes, containers and spectrometers and photometers vying for space whilst flasks with boiling liquids bubbled away contently over open flames. The sickly-sweet smell of rotting flesh vied with the harsh cleanliness of disinfectant and iodine for the attentions of the Chief’s nose

Walking between the rows of now-abandoned workstations Welshman glanced down at the various notes and half finished experiments, enzyme assays ran through to equilibrium and stagnation with no lab tech to squirt in fresh substrate, synaptic stimulators fired into naked, outstretched nerves whilst metallic clamps registered the variation in chemical messengers over the fibre.

By now he had reached the far end of the labs, one of many such facilities tucked away in the Asylum on Yridia IX, and all that stood before him was a slab of thick, nigh on impervious metal. Crafted from a hull plate of the Tarenti cruiser
Corsair it now served as the entry way to what lay beyond. Patting the pockets of his pristine white lab coat Welshman felt the reassuring shape of his pass key, wrapping his right hand around the plas-steel key he suppressed a wince as metallic teeth bit into his palm and sampled his blood, DNA and fingerprints matched, the key activated and reshaped to allow insertion into the awaiting lock. Hesitantly Welshman slotted in the key and waited while the dense air-lock doors were drawn silently upwards and entry into the glass walled airlock was granted.

Stepping into the lock Welshman’s electronic eyes were drawn to his left, into the containment pens. There before him were a eclectic collection of “creatures”, crafted by his hands and brought to re-life using the powers of Necromancy, each of the monsters, a nameless genera in the hierarchy of undead, was crafted from whatever section of animal corpse could be found. There were lupine creatures, lethal hunters put together with organs and limbs from a plethora of organisms. A large rhino-like creature butted its rotting head against the reinforced glass of its cage again and again, decaying skin and flesh shuddering off with every jarring impact. Interspaced every few cages were tanks submerged in filthy water, things swam in there that were a mix between sharks and octopus, streamlined killers with jaws that could punch through steel and the tentacles to keep its prey in thrall.

Glancing to the other side of the corridor he made out the operating theatres were each of these biotics was lovingly assembled. Strapped to the table and hooked up to conduits and tubes was a small quadruped, skin flaking off, woolly hide matted with blood and much of its internal organs splayed open for display. Glancing at his latest project Welshman smirked, he loved his work did Welshman…


***********

A nearby howl pierced the choir of blaster bolts and concussion detonations and snapped Welshman to focus. His group were now no more then half a click from Gladius and according to Korras’ last communiqué Captain Ban’s commando squad had reached the embattled Gladius troops. A few more minutes and they would have been there.

“Something watches us from the dark Aedile…” Muttered Gryffon

“Yes… I feel something familiar… as if one of the creatures is known to me…”

“Could be one of those B’alams Korras mentioned, undead animals.”

“B’alams… so that’s what they’ve called you my jewels?” Muttered Welshman, deep in concentration and rolling the name over in his mind experimentally. They named his creation after a Lord of the old Corellian Hells, he was content.

“Never mind, onwards. I’m sure they could use some lightsabres over at the building. And I can feel another presence nearby, we may have some reinforcements coming our way…”

Ashura

29-05-2007 18:00:51

Welshman’s group moved silently through the city, there agenda was simple. Regroup.

“About time,” Telona muttered to herself as she caught sight of Welshman. The Adept turned to Sith and said, “Tridens has arrived, Consul.” Tarentum’s Consul nodded but remained silent for a moment, as if he was trying to decided the best course of action.

The two House’s of Tarentum finally grouped together, now there was strength in numbers. “Listen up,” Sith said, there was great power behind his voice, “now that everyone is *finally* here. This is what we are going to do. We are going to establish a command centre and come up with a plan to sweep the city of all the undead still lurking about. We need to rearm!”

Mune glanced around at everyone, and his eyes finally settled on Gladius, ammo was low and Sith was right. If they were going to survive till daybreak a strategy needed to be formed. “The local law enforcement have a building two street down that way…” as he pointed to his right “…we will find weapons and communication equipment there. It’s a good a place as any to establish a command post.”

Welshman was about to say something, but was cut off by Sith who seemed to agree with Mune and commanded, “Tarentum, move out!”

Anshar

30-05-2007 21:39:19

Violence, in any form, bred chaos. When the shadows themselves seemed to be striking ignorant civilians, the chaos echoed through the city, far outliving the cries and screams of terror that were invariably cut short by the shadows. Anshar ignored the chaos, focusing instead on keeping himself moving and hidden. He also ignored the pain in his hand, save for the fleeting thought that the damage may be far worse than he thought. Had he made his attack to powerful, and thus suffered the consequences of it? Concentrating, Anshar drew on the Force, guiding it to his hand, healing the damage that had been done.

As he continued, Anshar could sense the large group of Tarenti. They had congregated and now seemed to be on the move. At least, that’s what the ebbing of the emotions told Anshar, as he could distinguish between the feelings of entrapment from the defenders to the now feelings of the need to move, to reach a goal, beyond survival. Anshar was about to alter his course when he stopped. Reaching out with his senses, he felt an aberration in the group as it moved. Someone was slipping away, alone, and probably unnoticed. A short list of people ran through Anshar’s head and without hesitation, he turned in that direction.

The various creatures unleashed on the city had turned largely to the easier prey, for now. Daylight would bring an interesting situation, assuming anyone made it that far.

***

“Marshall, sir,” said one of the deck officers, “sensors are picking up a strange reading, but we can’t actually see anything. We’re also receiving a repeating message, um… demanding to speak with you.” Oberst arched an eyebrow.
“Transfer it to the conference room,” ordered Oberst. He stepped into the room and sealed it, using his command access to prevent anyone from entering. Keying the comm, he spoke without waiting for the new arrival to speak first. “Very few people ever demand to speak with me; even fewer actually get even a second of my time, Spears.”
“I don’t like waiting,” came the reply. “Going through proper channels bores me. Now, I want to know what happened at my estate. I return from my leave and find things out of order. Specifically, my servants tell me that some strange visitors came by. They were described as limping, gauntly, and smelly. A few people disappeared after that, along with the graves of my dead servants being dug up. I trust you have nothing to do with this.”
“Actually, I don’t,” replied Oberst dryly. He didn’t, not specifically anyway. Steiner had mentioned needing some new bodies that had come from “different soil,” in the doctor’s words.
“I’m coming aboard,” said Spears. “How long I stay is another matter altogether.” He cut the comm off with his usual abruptness. Oberst simply returned to the bridge.

***

The members of the clan made their way towards their police station, each one of them feeling like they were being watched. “Surely they wouldn’t attack such a large group,” commented Kazarelth.
“Don’t be so sure,” said Welshman. “These creatures are quite adaptive. They know how to hunt and how to work together. We must remain on our guard.”
“By the way, where did Sith go?” asked Kazarelth. The large group almost stopped in its tracks, the only sound anyone heard was that of Dranik and Telona cursing simultaneously.

[OOC- slight edits made for clarification; nothing event wise has changed]

Kazarelth

31-05-2007 05:08:04

The imminent question about Sith’s disappearance was overshadowed by the Clan’s need for rearmament.

“We cannot waste time cursing here.” Welshman said, more to himself than the Clan, “And, I am sure most of you can perceive the prying eyes that have settled upon us. The young ones need to rearm if they are to have any hope of surviving this. Keep moving.”
He was keenly hearing the vibrations in the Force for so much so as a whisper of the Consul’s location. All he found were distorted interferences from the undead, surveying them from afar.

The elder members were trying to formulate a strategy. However the disappearance of Bloodfyre had put most of them in mental disarray.

The Clan moved in a tight formation; the greener Journeymen in the centre of a slow moving ellipse with Gladius’ Aedile at the fore-lobe’s axis. He was scanning the area yet again with his Sniper Rifle. Most of the members had called on to the Keeper’s sense, and Dranik could sense the Jedi Hunters around him starting to become nervous. The bits and pieces of the horizon discernible between the city’s deserted buildings encroaching upon three sides were thickly bordered with undeath’s grey tint.
Kazarelth moved closer to the Prelate.

“I have a feeling that they will tighten the noose when we reach the police station.” He said quietly to Dranik.
“I know. But, we need to rearm. The commando force has all but depleted their ammunition, and even your Battle Team is running low.” He answered, not taking a second off from his sweep of the area.
“Then, we need to escape from the police station after we rearm…” The Jedi Hunter wondered aloud. “Why can’t we retreat in small groups and appear to scatter? We will have the necessary communication links from the outpost.”
“That would require some amount of time to execute properly--” Dranik said.
“We can start now, Aedile.” Kazarelth said. “Because if we find ourselves facing the encircling horns, we would have to pray to Krath to grant us a miracle.”

Dranik concentrated on his sweep. But he could not help but ponder over the Journeyman’s words. The enveloping strategy was probably the most simple and the most complete manoeuvre. It offered no escape, especially when the annihilating army greatly outnumbered the victim.

Spears

31-05-2007 20:09:10

The Dark brooding figure slowly descended from the shuttle into a now empty launch bay. The Dark Master had been neither seen nor heard from for over a year, his memory however remained etched into the nightmares of many of the senior noncoms and officers. The first to recognize Spears’s ship, signaled the others to vacate the others, the Master had a reputation of removing any whom he did not wish to be in his presence in a rather permanent manner.

The hallways before him remained as empty as the launch bay on this fully crewed Star Destroyer the presence that emanated from figure that strode thru the hallways with a purpose was frightening enough for all but members of his Clan to vacate the area long before his arrival.

The entrance to the Corsair’s bridge opened before him, what appeared to be a young Officer stood before the Master.

Marshall Ob……

The scream of extreme agony was the very next sound to be heard upon the bridge as it was light by an intense light. The ferocity of the Force Lighting as it ripped clean thru the Ensigns body even took the Field Marshal by surprise.

“Enjoy your little vacation?” Inquired the Field Marshal

“It served its purpose we have much to discuss, however at the moment I am more interested in my property.” Replied Spears.

Oberst countered “You are more then welcome to reclaim what is left of it.”

A smile crept across Spears face “I suppose I could use a bit of exercise. I assume you won’t object to my leaving my ship docked and borrow a shuttle.”

The Field Marshal simply nodded.

“When I return we have much to discuss, my mission has provided great insight as well as some concerns that the Tarentae will need to discuss.”

Rekio Corsair

08-06-2007 07:39:00

Those who had first noticed the withdrawl of Sith Bloodfyre from the combined Houses strike team, had also notice he had done so because his attention had been drawn away to arguably more pressing matter; but such are the duties of a Consul.

Finally united in a central location in the local guard office, the Houses Gladius and Tridens, regrouped and swapped encounters as they tried to piece together what as happening around them. As the leadership of Houses Tridens and Galdius met to collaborate a strategy with which to move forward, two others were took part in another meeting several blocks away.

In the central administrative building of the city, Rekio Corsair and Sith Bloodfyre held their private conversation with the venerable figure known to the Brotherhood as Master Zero. The miniature holographic projection of the cloaked figure gave no indication of his facial features nor any discernible hint into his emotions from the Force, common features among the Order of the Keepers. Nevertheless, Rekio didn't underestimate his own proclivity for predicting oncoming trouble. That empty, hollow feeling filled his insides and he knew he was about to hear something terribly rotten.

"Sirrus has created what he calls a Baelnorn. Undead warriors, death knights, born of the same research that has also produced the Draugr and Aptrgangr. The problem with these two initial creations was that the soul and/or flesh were being distorted - destroying the original balance between the two."

"A balance necessary to create life or bring it back; a fundamental element in Tel'Retha's teachings" Bloodfyre mused.

"Correct, Master Bloodfyre. The researchers surmised that a soul with a powerful sense of duty could be brought back from the nether. Not only would this enhance its prior attributes, but imbue it with extensive necromantic powers - knowledge brought back from the realm of death."

"Only a veteran Force user could survive such an experience and remain sentient. Who would possibly volunteer for such thing?"

"In Sirrus' insanity, he cloned himself and attempted to test this theory" Zero paused, sealing the sense of dread Rekio felt. "It worked. This Balenorn is not nearly as powerful as Khyven; however, it was still able to work the other creations into a frenzy."

Both urgency and understanding now filled the two Sith as they look on at the holographic image of the Sith Keeper. It was very clear now that this Balenorn had complicated this matter on Yridia III greatly. Now there were scarier things going bump in the night than they had anticipated.

"We believe this Balenorn has a limited, and perhaps, unconscious ability to command other undead." Zero continued. "In addition to this, it is equal in strength to a Master. Considering its erratic behavior, Steiner has inferred that it has not achieved full sentience."

"Or" Rekio interjected, "considering the subject used .. maybe it has."

"Granted," Zero conceded, "However, it still remains a serious threat."

"So ..."

"No, I wouldn't recommending anyone engaging him directly." Bloodfyre answered, anticipating the Sith'ari's question.

Zero paused for a moment, looking the direction of the hangar bay and then "It seems that Master Spears will be joining you."

Bloodfyre nodded. "It seems Headmaster Khan will as well. Where is the Marshal then?"

"On the bridge" Zero said flatly.

"Very well. Please instruct him that until this threat has been neutralized, Schyron is on complete lock-down and the containment zone will be extended to the entire prefecture. All traffic in and out of the planet will be suspended." Bloodyre requested with reverence; one did not simply demand a Sith Lord to do something.

Zero nodded in acknowledgment of the request.

"Master Zero, I beg your leave." The transmission ended then as it was cut from the other side, and it was once again just Rekio and Bloodfyre in the desolate administrate building.
"And the Yridians?" Rekio grilled.

"We will, of course, take care of them." Bloodfyre said dismissively.

The phrase "take care of them" didn't leave much confidence in a favorable outcome for the Yridians. The surviving citizens of Schyron where much more likely to be "pacified" for the information they new. It was an unfortunate, but also necessary in such circumstances to maintain the secrecy that the Clan enjoyed. A Consuls responsibility was to his Clan, even when that meant doing some distasteful.

-------

"So we're agreed then?" Welshman prompted. "We'll organize parties into groups of journeyman and support troopers lead by groups of equities or elders where available."

"I believe so." the Glaidus Aedile agreed. Dranik often took on human appearance as he interacted with the Clan since it was far more appealing to others than his natural form as a Shi'ido.

The others, Munesanzun, Archean, Telona Murrage, and Windos, also nodded in agreement. The partitioning of Rekio and Bloodfyre had not gone unnoticed, but the leaders of Houses Tridens and Gladius were confident in their stragety. Now that they were organized and prepared, they would be able to handle this threat.

As the group dismissed to mobilize their respective patrols, there was a sudden pause among them. A forbearing feeling of danger crept up on them, like a sudden and steadily rising pressure.

The stillness was only broken by the low and threatening growl of the Ktsma'at Queaster of Gladius.

No words were needed. Everyone knew this was coming, and now it was time to face it.

The proximity sensors sounded, and the officer at the radar reported the results "Bio signatures indicate six Dragur from the north, two dozen Aptrgangr from the east, and several dozen Ba'lams from all directions!"

"Oh com'n." Melkor spat. "They're going to flank us!?"

As the Dark Jedi peered out into the distance, they heard the faint roar of impending doom. The room filled with a rainbow of colors as they prepared themselves for battle.

"Forget the noose ... they've got three damn guillotines" Dranik muttered under this breath.

Telona

11-06-2007 19:09:45

Six Draugr. Are they really Draugr or are they an inferior creation? Hard to believe there are six running around out there. We should have just bombed this city and been done with this mess.

Telona sighed as she and Windos shuffled their teams together. Through one of the windows of the police station the first rays of daybreak could be seen. Citizens would be waking up to the madness that has gripped their city. With luck, they'll be smart enough to stay indoors or at least the local police would be smart enough to make them stay in. What was left of them anyways.

With their teams configured in a tight defensive position, the two Battle Team leaders from Gladius took up opposing positions. Windos was still a bit tired but he had built up enough energy to be effective in this fight. None had wanted to waste their own energies to revive his; a selfish act but it was to be expected from Dark Jedi. The other Clan members broke into their own groups all around and inside the building.

What a time for us to be missing people. Sure wish I could just go off and do whatever Sithspit thing I wanted to do. But no, I'm stuck here with people who continue to think splitting up is the best strategy and Journeymen who think they can take out a Draugr with ease.

An officer shouted out the remaining distance between the Dark Jedi and their targets. The undead hoard was very close. The ring of sniper fire confirmed that fact. The quicker B'alams were the first to encounter the Dark Jedi. The cobbled pieces of their bodies fell away as the sniper fire hit them yet they kept going with a single purpose, to kill. The Aptrgangr came in under the cover of the B'alams. They encountered little sniper fire but they were carrying large pieces of duracrete to protect themselves from the rain of blaster fire that came as soon as they were within range. It was a testament to their super human strength.

The Dragur group stayed under the cover of the other buildings. They did not advance but simply watched as the other two groups fell upon the Dark Jedi. They were smart to not charge in before their enemies had weakened. No one noticed or had time to notice that this third group had not come. The Tarenti were simply too occupied.

“Windos, have your team concentrate on that window!” Mune shouted as a sickly looking snout pushed through it. “Dranik, get those Equites with you to guard the door! Only let our people through!”

“Aim for the heads!” Korras roared from the roof above. “Don’t blind yourself in the sunlight! Welshman how’s things on the ground?!”

Welshman only grunted as the battered form of a B’alam took a snap at him. His hissing lightsaber severed half of the creature’s head and yet it still came after him. He finished decapitating the corpse when the sound of heavy rock smacking against flesh met his ears over the constant yelling. He swung around in time to see an Aptrgangr rip the head of a young Journeyman right off. The offending thing picked his piece of duracrete up once more and rushed Welshman as fast as it could.

“You three form up!” Yelled Archean. “Come on people, these things aren’t that hard to kill! Hustle!”

Out of the corner of his eye Archean saw Welshman fighting against one of the Aptrgangr. He could do nothing as his own group was being forced back inside the police building. Chunks of duracrete rained down upon them as they retreated.

“We have wounded coming in!” Dranik announced as Archean’s group pushed their way in. “Telona, take my group out there to fortify the rest of Tridens! Keepers, get the medkits quick!”

Welshman

12-06-2007 13:52:20

The ebbs and tides of the Dark Side grew strong in the police station’s foyer, the concentration of power being focused and abused by the Tarenti gathered in their desperate defence. The surging river engulfed everyone and everything directing them to their fates, whatever that might be as blasters sung and sabres hissed through the cloying atmosphere.

It was during such moments of carnage that Welshman allowed the Dark Side to consume him completely. The façade of calm and control evaporated before the heat of passion and anger, the Darkness within reaching out and inviting the warm caress of righteousness into his obeying muscles. As he watched the now headless Protector slump to the ground, arterial blood pulsing out of his severed neck in time to his ever slowing heartbeat, a smile creased the Warlord’s face. This was what it was to be alive. Dispatching the B’alam with a arc of his violet blade he turned to face the humanoid manifestation who had so beautifully dispatched of one of the weaker Jedi.

The Aptrgangr had once been a human but now such distinction was beyond pointless. All that was needed to know was that it was a killing machine. Staring into the creature’s expressionless milky eyes and sagging facial features Welshman spared a thought to the powers that had corrupted both the body and soul of this poor person and turned him into the thing that stood before him, connective tissue had liquefied giving it the drooping face and intestines melting away expelling their contents into the voluminous robes worn by the zombie, the stench radiating from it at such a close range was sickening.

Twirling his twin blades above his head he sprung across the three meters separating him from the summoning, eyeing the slab of flooring held by his adversary he laughed at the thought of that vanquishing himself, the comforting thought did nothing to prevent the slab being thrown in his direction. Erecting a Force shield between himself and the now airborne rock to deflect it away from his face. The exertion needed to divert the mass of kinetic energy was minimal but still enough to detract his senses from the right hook which came swinging in from his left and cracked onto his cheek. Feeling bone splinter and the taste of iron flooding into his mouth. Dazed by the ferocity of the one punch he stumbled back as the creature pressed its advantage, fist after fist slipped past the sluggish defence and rained jarring punishment on Corsair’s armourless body.

Skin bruised and muscle ached. Rage flared.

Drawing deep on the pain and hatred he felt for the out of control minion he created a coil of darkness and whipped it around the undead lifting it bodily into the air. Clenching his fist his force senses translated this into eldritch action and the noose of psychic energy tightened, a garrotte of simple mind power that chewed into the flesh and then ground through bone. A voiceless howl screamed through the Force as the two halves of still active flesh tumbled to the ground, two halves which continued to move. The upper torso dragged itself towards the prone Warlord, rising to his feet the newly adopted Mandalorian levitated the crawling biotic and bisected its head to finish it off.

Flinching slightly as his bruised ribs protested against his laboured breathing Welshman turned to face his Quaestor as he battled, with three Journeymen at his back, his way deeper into the police station. Cocking his sabre over his shoulder, he hurled the hilt and sent it curving into the wolf like B’alam’s stalking his superior carving them in half and allowing his beleaguered superior a chance to retreat.

Anshar

13-06-2007 23:17:58

The first rays of daybreak scattered across the sky, but it was still sufficiently dark in the streets and alleys of the city. Anshar’s eyes had adjusted as far as they possible could. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, but it would get no better. Up in the sky, Anshar saw a small speck, moving towards the city, but he ignored it.

Anshar approached the central administration building, walking up its steps in a determined pace. His hand was healed, but he knew his clan was not. No, there was a problem and Anshar was determined to rectify it. With the slightest flick of his fingers, Anshar flung the doors open, ripping them off their tracks. Anshar entered the central foyer and found Rekio and Sith waiting.

“Anshar,” began Rekio, “so nice of you to-” he stopped talking when Anshar glared at him. It was not fear on Rekio’s part, but rather the simple, unspoken message that Anshar was here to talk with Sith. Rekio wisely backed away.

“So, Bloodfyre,” said Anshar, his voice seething. “Is it testing time for the clan again?”

“This wasn’t my doing,” began Sith. Anshar cut him off.

“These things only seem to happen when you’re Consul, Bloodfyre,” said Anshar. “I don’t believe in coincidences. So, either you are testing the clan, or our friends in the Asylum are testing the clan specifically while you are in charge. Either way, these types of tests must stop!”

“I should expect nothing less than that from you,” replied Sith. “You’ve never been a fan of raising the dead. Though I should commend you on your efforts to expand the clan’s knowledge in related realms. How strange that your own research should coincide with that of the Asylum’s; how did your most recent foray into the study of life essences go?” The last comment was strictly a taunt. Sith continued. “Would it help if I again protested my innocence in this particular matter?”

“Protest all you wish,” replied Anshar. Reaching to his belt, Anshar drew both of his lightsabers, igniting them; the royal blue and violet blades mixing with the reddish-orange of early dawn poking through the windows. Rekio instinctively reached for his own lightsaber.

“Do you intend to fight me?” asked Sith. “And I always pegged you as one of the more rational members of the clan, indeed of the entire Brotherhood.”

“Even rational men have their limits,” replied Anshar. “No, I won’t fight you; not here and not now. Just remember that I have them and know that I will use them on you.” Sith smiled tightly, realizing that the greatest truth of Clan Tarentum was once again upheld. The members of the clan irritated, angered, and fought with each other, quite often in fact. But, in the presence of a greater threat, all differences were set aside.

“Well, then, I shall look forward to it,” replied Sith. “Would you care to join us, Master Spears?” From the shadows, a large figure emerged: Spears, the former Headmaster and former Consul of Clan Tarentum. Sith, Rekio, and Anshar had all noticed his arrival, indeed they had heard the shuttle land on the roof tap landing pad, but they had not paid it any heed at the time.

“I believe, gentlemen, that our clan needs our help,” said Spears, his voice bubbling with anger, annoyance, and even slight amusement. It was a strange combination and something only Spears could ever quite pull off. “The question is, do we go and attempt to free our holed up comrades, or do we visit the Asylum and settle this matter?”

Oberst

14-06-2007 01:55:46

Sashar disembarked the Lambda-class shuttle quickly. Helmet under his arm, he quickly saluted the larger man waiting at the foot of the shuttle. Noticing the curt nod in response, and the way the Field Marshal’s eyes immediately sought out the svelte figure behind him, Sashar hastened out of the way. It was years of training and patience that kept surprise from breaking onto his features when Oberst bowed before the figure. She was female, that much Sashar knew. Her face was hidden within the folds of her hood. The only thing breaking the shadows was the platinum hair, braided into a thick rope that fell over her left breast. During the shuttle ride from Yridia IX, she had piqued Sashar’s curiosity. Conversation was not forthcoming, and all his attempts at probing even the barest surface of her mind found his probes reversed – instead recalling his own thoughts and memories.

The Mandalorian fell into step as the older pair walked ahead. “There has been a change of plans, My Lady,” Oberst’s thick voice forced its way past the din of the hangar, “Master Sirrus was successful in crafting a Balenorn. Unfortunately, he used a clone of himself to do so.”

The voice that answered was as cool and soothing as the oceans of Yridia, and held the same hidden dangers, “I am most impressed, Max. I had thought such things to be impossible, with the loss of talent to time.”

“Sirrus, as mad as he is, is nothing short of a genius. I only wonder if sanity was all he traded for intellect.”

Sashar heard, rather than saw the smile of the platinum haired woman, “Perhaps judgment was sacrificed as well, given the problems on the planet?”

“Which is why Master Zero summoned you. I will need your help to track this Balenorn.” Stopping before the ramp of another shuttle, he fixed Sashar with a hard stare, “I need assassins and hunters, not warriors.”

* * * * * *

The fighting on the ground was hard. Everywhere one turned – a body. Whether the body was alive, dead or something else was a different matter entirely. That Master Bloodfyre had left some of his creations behind was a godsend. The position would have been overrun long before had it not been for them. The apprentices, novices and journeymen were no match for the raw power thrown at them. And the Equites with them fared little better. It was only because of the Euthanatos’ inability to feel pain, that the defenders were still able to do their job. Where a normal blow would have felled a living and breathing entity, the Euthanatos continued on. If one arm were ripped off, the other arm was used. If both arms were missing, the zombie could still kick and bite.

Welshman leaned briefly against a wall, as two novices sprayed blaster fire through the door he’d just come through, in suppressing action. It wouldn’t stop the necrotic creatures outside, but since what they were fighting were at least sentient, it would keep them from just charging in blindly. As he paused to catch his breath a familiar whine shocked the air around the abandoned station. Daring a look through the hole in fist sized hole in the wall next to him, he looked out and grinned. A shuttle.

* * * * * *

“Open the ramp,” Oberst barked out.

Sashar looked inquisitively at the Field Marshal, “Will the roof of that building hold this shuttle? Is there enough room to evacuate them out?”

“We’re not here to evacuate them,” Oberst replied simply. “Put your helmet on. Believe me, you’ll want it.”

“Why are they opening the ramp?”

“We’re jumping out. Give me two of your grenades.” Sashar complied, his face now hidden by the helmet for his armor. “Once these go off, I need you to lay down five quick shots from your rifle in that direction.” Oberst pointed. “And then jump. We’re twenty meters up. It’s a hell of a fall.”

The two grenades flew out the open ramp into a thick of wolf like creatures, who sniffed and then became a splattering of blood and guts across the landscape of burned and hollowed out warehouses. Sashar fired quickly in the opposite direction of the grenades, where Oberst had pointed and jumped. The blast from the concussion rifle had left him a neat patch of dirt to aim for in his landing. He sensed the larger man and the svelte woman not far behind him.

As he hit the ground and rolled, he heard the familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber igniting and the Field Marshal handily decapitate what looked like a walking corpse. To his left, the svelte woman with the platinum hair pulled out a curved sword that crackled with eldritch power. These Tarenti were full of surprises. The only Sith Swords he’d ever seen were locked up and on display in the Great Hall.

* * * * * *

Welshman’s at first became furious as the shuttle left, but his anger was quickly offset when he saw what the shuttle left behind. Tarentum’s own Field Marshal had taken out one of the Aptrgangr before he’d hit the ground. Less than three meters away, a familiar figure was making quick work of a trio of large, feline like B’alams. He had met Lady Nilani many times before, and knew her simply as one of Oberst’s own tutors in combat. The descriptions of her combat ability, by Oberst, paled compared to actually seeing her in action. Her swordplay was like watching a dance. Each step and stroke choreographed to end in the death of her opponent.

The third figure caused Welshman’s face to break out in a grin. His brother was with Oberst. The Mandalorian was firing in quick succession to support both Oberst and Lady Nilani.

Welshman barked out at Archean, and pointed in the direction of the trio. Archean turned and grinned. Pointing at Odin and Xayun, Archean quickly ordered, “You two, with me. Let’s clear a path for the Field Marshal.”

Charging out the door was the worst thing he could have done. Not two meters past the door, Archean was blind sided, by one of the remaining Aptrgangr. His throat red and exposed by the undead’s knife. As he gurgled and choked on his own blood, Archean saw a flash of red as his brother’s lightsaber came to life and cleaved the Aptrgangr in two.

OdinVaaj

14-06-2007 19:23:51

“Archean!!!”

The echo bounced throughout the walls of the building. The creatures who had their auditory systems work, would have realized the mix of shock, disbelief, and grief on the pitch, as the Quaestor of House Tridens shivered slightly , losing his steadiness to stand. Xayun helped to bisect the assailant body, making the undead slump into four distinct pieces, as Odin ran to support the Quaestor from falling hard on the floor.

The Knight dropped on his knees as the blood spurting and effusing from the gash of Archean’s neck, soaking his lap. The warmth of the blood provided the assurance of the severity, of the imminent exit gate to approach for a living. The Warrior’s long hair had turned to half red, as the bubbling blood on Archean’s mouth wished to express his very last command.

Continue…

The message was not coming from the lips of the injured Quaestor, it had been sent through the ripple of the Force, reaching any vigilant Dark Jedi in their connectivity to the utmost power source. The word described the Sith Warrior’s obstinacy, as usual, as if his determined closing stages of existence would have the benefit, in which only he and the Force would distinguish for the faithful reason.

Odin looked at his superior, agape with wonder, as his hand felt the warm skin losing its mild shiver while he heard the door shut close, preventing any harm from the outside.

“Archean…Stay with us!…You know you can…Don’t give up!…,” the Knight yelled at the Quaestor.

“He’s gone”, the Field Marshall spoke as he had stood before the body.

“Not now…not…”

Odin removed the Sith Warrior’s blindfold with his deep-silent apology for doing so, and saw the gate already being there in Archean’s eyes. His bloody hand trembled to face the certain fact of his old friend, his leader and his brother, even though Archean did not carry the name on. The Bruth’Kothae bowed his head, as the last command of the Tridens’ leader resounded in his head, giving him a respectful faith.

“You will be always with us, Archean…always…”

Sith Bloodfyre

15-06-2007 23:15:58

The police station felt as if it were being overrun with a horde of undead; in reality, it was the same aptrgangr and b’alams. Somehow, those creations that were not completely destroyed would eventually work themselves back together. The necromantic energy circulating through their bodies was known to the Tarenti, but it was also strange. And, perhaps because it was somewhat “different” than what they were accustomed to, they did not realize what was happening. At least, not at first.

And then came the first of many to fall to the onslaught. Archean, the respected and valiant Quaestor of Tridens met doom while confronting the aptrgangr to clear a path for the Field Marshal of Tarentum. Odin was obviously one of the most distraught over the loss of the mighty Sith Warrior, but everyone seemed to pause for a moment to watch death take Archean from among them. In a Clan where life and death are studied and somewhat obsessed over, no passing was ever ignored or allowed to go without some insight gained from it. And in this passive, everyone within the besieged police station understood one thing: these undead creations could, and would, kill every last one of them if they were given the chance.


* * * * *


It was almost amusing, the idea that Anshar would confront him over this outbreak. Sith didn’t expect it, but when Anshar had stood before him, ready to place the blame for the incident on the head of the Consul and issue punishment as well, the Shaevalian had to smirk, even if only briefly. It was not a look to belittle the Headmaster’s ability, or even to provoke a response from Anshar. But still, the scene didn’t surprise Sith that much at all.

The three Masters and Tarentae stood glancing at each other, almost forgetting the fourth man among them, the formidable Sith Warlord and Tarentae member, Rekio Corsair. The hero of the Sith Wars allowed the three Masters their conference, but in the back of Rekio’s mind was the thought that solutions needed to come now, and they needed to be good ones. His frustration and anxiety were rather apparent in the minds and eyes of his companions; Rekio did not hide his emotions, but rather, expressed them openly with looks and body language. Corsair was quite comfortable with allowing his fellows to know exactly how he felt, and each appreciated his open attitude and honesty.

“I believe that we need to assist our brethren,” Anshar spoke up first.

“I’d have to agree,” the Shaevalian Consul nodded slightly. “Something is happening close by; I believe we can all feel it.”

“Then let’s get going now,” Rekio stated firmly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but they need our help, and that’s all that I care to know at the moment.”


* * * * *


The fight was not going well. Archean had fallen to the creatures, and in his grieving over the Quaestor of Tridens, Odin Vaaj also fell to the onslaught of the undead. One of the aptrgangr had found a place within the shadows to secret itself, and bide its time while it searched for the right target. The undead had seen Odin, lost in his misery for the moment, and had suddenly sprinted forth from its place of cover and pounced on the grieving Knight. The aptrgangr punched Odin in the throat with enough force to shatter the man’s spine, ending his life almost instantly.

In his weakened state, Windos could not put up enough of a defense, and had taken a severe swipe of a b’alam’s claws to the chest. Windos had been able to retreat behind the cover of Welshman and Telona, who had come to his aid. Kazarelth was offering first aid to Windos, but not much could prevent death from claiming Windos if the healing powers of one of the elder Keepers could not be focused onto the Archpriest.

The attention of the aptrgangr and b’alam suddenly shifted. Where, up until now, all of the undead had been focused upon those within the police station, they now seemed to recognize that another threat lay without. The platinum-haired woman, the Field Marshal of Tarentum, and the Mandalorian were exacting a toll from the undead, but from another street, four figures came running in, each wielding their own lightsabers.

Rekio Corsair took out the first two b’alam that closed in to meet their new opponents, quickly slashing through fir, muscle and bone imbued with deathly strength. The Sith Warlord continued to slash and slice until each piece of the two b’alams was no more than a few inches in diameter. Rekio stood over the two twice-dead creatures, and kicked the pieces across the street, ensuring that they wouldn’t rejoin.

The three Masters, Anshar, Sith and Spears headed towards the police station quickly, recognizing that those within would need their help badly. Lady Nilani, Oberst and Sashar were handling the aptrgangr well, and were buying those within the police station space and time to breath and focus on keeping those barely alive from being called by death, and trying to gather those members who were dead, but still salvageable.

Fifteen minutes passed, and as the blood dripped slowly from Lady Nilani’s Sith Swords, the field of battle and death began to silence swiftly. No cries of pain or horror escaped the lips of any of the Tarenti; they had been well-trained and even more prepared to meet and accept death. And yet, even though they accepted death, they did not respect it as the “ultimate end” of some of their brethren.

Anshar Kahn, Sith Bloodfyre and Spears, all members of the Tarentae and Masters of the Dark Side, stood around the fallen bodies of Archean, another of the Tarentae, and Odin Vaaj. The three called out upon dark, and somewhat unknown powers of the Keepers of Life and Death. Telona Murrage had her hands upon the chest of Windos, the near-dead Archpriest, and seemed to coax the spirit of her Clanmate and ally back across the shroud of existence. Windos would not be allowed to die, not yet.

Archean’s body slowly seemed to knit itself together at the throat, as vessels and muscle fibers grew again, to close the wound that had taken the Sith Warrior’s life. Odin’s throat seemed to slowly fill out, almost like a child’s balloon slowly filling with air. The Clan watched for the next half-hour as the two dead warriors were coaxed back from the plane of the dead.

Lady Nilani, Oberst and Sashar remained on guard, but none of them could sense any danger, either through their physical senses or the Force. Something was still out there, but it seemed on guard, watching, waiting for the next opportunity to strike.

Archean came to consciousness slowly, the lids of his empty socketed eyes fluttering. Odin’s eyes following suit moments after. The two remained still for several long moments as the ritual to restore life continued to gather and restore their lost life and strength. Finally, the three Masters ended their restorative work. Anshar and Spears stepped back slowly, while Sith knelt down, nearly eye level with the raised Quaestor and Knight, even though the Shaevalian’s eyes were masked by his hood.

“I’m quite sorry, gentlemen,” Sith said softly, “but you are not excused from service to this Clan at this time. You’ll forgive me, but I’m certain we still have need of you. I’m sure we have dishes that need washing at the Castle, or something of the sort.”

Archean

16-06-2007 01:20:51

The Warrior's force perception began to emerge slowly, the energy feeding off him. Archean sat up, his vision was quite blurry but he was able to make out a few familiar bodies. Anshar, Bloodfyre and Spears were still gathered around the Tarentae, making sure their powers worked..

The Sith quickly flashed through his memories. The moment the Aptrgangr ripped out Archean's throat, a feeling of being free came over him. It was glorious, in a morbid sort of way.

Archean stumbled onto his feet, feeling very groggy, the blurryness of his vision was still bad. He stood still for a moment to gather his balance and to survey his surroundings. He felt his shirt all wet, looking down he saw his black shirt soaked in blood, his boots, red as his blindfold, death consumed the room and to have the force energy that was inside the room, it felt grand, it energized the once fallen Tarentae.

Odin slowly sat up, Archean's gaze caught the movement and he slowly walked over to his friend.

“They got you too?” Archean questioned. Odin didn't have the strength to even talk, he just lowered his head and nodded. Archean put his hand on his brother's shoulder and rose.

Archean turned his head slightly, his vision came across Oberst, Sashar and Telona.

“How're you feeling?” Asked Sashar.
“As good as I can be at the moment, give me some time, I'll be back slaughtering those Aptrgangr once more.” A grin coming over the Sith's face. The Mandalorian nodded in agreeance.

“Come, we don't have time to stand around and have a picnic. This place is still a war zone.” Barked the Field Marshal.

Tyrus

16-06-2007 21:11:31

Tyrus breathed a sigh of relief. So far, this battle had been full of misfortunes: the lowering of morale, Archean dying, and Odin dying.

Yet somehow, as it always seems to be, the misfortunes vanished in a sea of good fortune. First of all, the arrival of Oberst and friends. Followed by the arrival of Tarentum's Consul and Tyrus's master Sith. Then, Tyrus thinking nothing else good could possibly happen, Archean and Odin had been revived as if it were nothing.

Tyrus pinched his stomach hard and focused on drowning out pain.

He had been hit in the stomach by one of those abominations and could barely breathe for a while. He had only been saved because his team leader Telona had sliced the damn thing clean in half.

Keeping one hand on his stomach, Tyrus wiped sweat from his forehead. As a journeyman, I'm not made for this kind of non-stop combat he thought to himself.

Telona, as though hearing his weary thoughts, exclaimed "This battle is far from over Tyrus, pick up your blaster rifle and start shooting at anything that moves."

She smiled a slightly creepy smile. "If it moves, shoot it. If it doesn't move, shoot it anyways."

Tyrus sighed, thinking, how come everything is difficult, just once, I want something good to happen wihtout work.

Telona, upon noticing these thoughts, resolved to give him more work if they got out of this mess.

Kazarelth

18-06-2007 07:36:40

Many Journeymen had fallen, as the relentless undead pursued them into the police building, even as their morale flowed with the ‘reincarnation’ of their great Clan’s elder members.
The eerie silence was quite loudly perceptible within the radius of the re-fallen undead host. The wounded members were being healed, even as the deadly calm pervaded through the younger members. Inexperienced as they were, they still weren’t able to fathom the greatness of the Clan Powers.
The Clan’s Elder members were in council, in one of the secluded areas of the site, while the wounded were being treated. The gashes from the undying wolves were very deep and very poisonous.
Many older Journeymen had shown mettle in the face of this undeath horde. However, they realised that this battle was far from over. The Praxeum’s Tetrarch himself was deep in slumber. Windos had taken quite a severe mental punishment, and his rest was necessary for more progress.

JasonHunter

25-06-2007 15:50:31

Even before the swirling blue vortex of hyperspace morphed into bright lines, and finally settled on a familiar arrangements of stars, Jason Hunter could feel mixed emotions from the members of Clan Tarentum. He felt death, pain, fatigue, sorrow, confusion...all very negative feelings that were being radiated into the Force.

What the kriff is going on? the newly re-ordaned Krath Archpriest thought as he angled his A-wing towards Yridia III. He hadn't recieved any sort of message telling him were to go; he just knew from what the Force was telling him. As he neared the planet, the sensations in the Force grew stronger and more defined. He used those feelings like a homing beacon, following it down through the atmosphere, which tried its best to incinerate his small starfighter, and straight to a city that looked like a warzone.

Jason flipped his fighter up on its' port side, and looked out through the canopy. Below him, he saw many dead people, all of which seemed to be in numerous pieces. Blood flowed slowly down storm drains, adding an every more eerie note to what he was seeing.

And then he passed over the city's tattered police station, and he felt flashes of recognition from a few people inside. He felt Sith, Telona, Oberst, and Spears, and their strong presences--and they were only strong to him, because he was most familiar with them--exuded shock and wonderment at his sudden and unexpected arrival. Jason felt others, most of whom he didn't recognize, but he thought he felt the presences of Anshar and Rekio, as well.

"Well, let's see if they welcome me, or just shoot me on sight," Jason mutted to himself, leveling off and flipping about to come in for a landing. As he pulled back the throttles to his engines, he dialed up the power of the repulsorlifts, and adjusted its output until the small, sleek little starfighter touched down in the middle of the street, loose duracrete crunching underneath the landing skids.

Once he was on the ground, Jason Hunter pulled the handle that opened his cockpit canopy, and clambered out. He jumped off the side of the fuselage, using the Force to soften his landing. His shoes hit the ground with a small amount of noise, and his exposed skin--that which wasn't covered by a pair of knee-length shorts and a black tanktop--began to prickle in the small, chilly breeze. His danger sense came alive suddenly, and he cautiously pulled his new lightsaber from his belt as he made his way towads the police station entrance.