Transport en route to San Korinar
Holding Pattern, Lagrange Point 2
Amphor, Orian System
The transport blazed its trail to towards the atmosphere of the Orian gas giant at speeds that few pilots would ever dare risk; the man had worked within the Special Operations group for years and knew precisely what his cargo was capable of. Now more than every their unique talents were needed to ensure these things were sorted out. While the pilot was preoccupied with his breakneck speeds, the pair in the hold were busy sitting before the lone holoprojector that had spawned to life the instant they had left the blockade.
Bathed in the azure glow of the hologram, the two figures that stood before the pair were none other than the Executive Directors of the Dlarit Corporation; Quaestors Mirado Pepoi L'eonheart and Teu Pepoi. Each seemed extremely on as they spoke directly to bring their point home, "Ladies, you have been selected to lead Special Operations and Police forces upon the ground. Our enemies are rumoured to be a pirate element of the Organization, survivors of the failed assault are reporting Cybernetic implants and enhancements. Be on high alert and strike deep into the hearts of our enemies, we want no survivors. May the Force be with you."
As the projector winked out, the transport rocked as it passed through the giant's viscious atmosphere. As quickly as the transport began its rocky decent, it ended, a red-light winking into existance within the hold as the pilot's voice rose up across the hold's speakers, "LZ's clear, there are some anti-air elements in the area so we're only going to touch and go."
Things had gotten increasingly hostile as the Dlarit elements had closed in around these Pirates; their units moving to try and surpress the Police and Special Forces at every turn. Even the civilians who had yet to be evacuated became a piece in this dangerous game, becoming hostages for the Pirates as the Dlarit personnel looked on in horror. Even Dlarit anti-air elements had become hostile to their creators.
The transport quickly touched down, the hold doors opening and its light flashing green swiftly as Cyril and Dyrra disembarked swiftly so that they could begin their mission to reclaim the cloud city.
Dyrra leapt out of the transport before it even hit the ground – more out of dislike for the infernal machine than any special enthusiasm for the mission at hand. She couldn't deny being a little pleased to be back home, with her Clan, though. Even if she was... babysitting.
She glanced back at the Zelton girl who had accompanied her in the transport. The Journeyman was gripping a vibroshiv nervously and Dyrra didn't blame her. It had to be one of her first missions for the Clan and she was getting thrown into this whole mess.
“You got a name, Acolyte?”
“Cyril, Cyril Omega.”
“Nice to meet you, Cyril. You any good with that weapon?”
The only response was a terse nod.
“Good. Let's go see what trouble we can get ourselves into.”
The place they'd been dropped off was oddly quiet, but Dyrra knew that couldn't last long. Fiddling distractedly with her lightsaber hilt, she marched down the street, before she felt what she was looking for on the edges of her force senses. A grin tugged at the corners of her lips and she jogged to the corner, peering round cautiously. The sight of a pair of armed people running in her direction greeted her. Glancing back at the Acolyte behind her, she let her grin widen.
“Looks like we caught the welcoming committee off guard – they're just coming down the street now. Try and stay back, I'll see if I can draw their attention.”
Before the Zeltron could argue, she stepped out into the open, the Force singing in her veins as the trademark telekinetic blast of Naga Sadow howled out of her outstretched arm and into the chest of the approaching men. As they staggered a few steps backward, the blade of Dyrra's saber blazed to life.
Now the fun begins.
Cyril studied Dyrra as the human female thumbed her lightsabre to life, taking stock of the men who had quickly become their enemies. They didn't seem to be too big of a threat...
All the same, Cyril ran a hand through her short hair and tightened her grip on her vibroshiv. Even though it looked like Dyrra had everything under control, chaos was known to be unpredictable.
She slipped into the shadows, keeping her emotions under a tight lid as she slipped closer to the two armored men. Seeming to mirror the Zeltron's movements, Dyrra spun her lightsabre around in precise, practiced movements, and Cyril recognized the beginnings of Shii-Cho.
"Alright, bone maggots!" Dyrra called out to the two men. "Ready to die?"
As she advanced forward they were finally able to bring their blasters to bare, yelling something about standing down and dropping her weapon; inwardly the Templar smirked. She was only a few feet from her current targets, blood itching to get the party started. An inconspicuous glance of the surrounding area confirmed that, for the moment, there was no one else present--other than the Zeltron female.
What the heck was she doing anyway? Oh, well, no time for that now. She turned her full attention back to the task at hand.
This is how it's done, Omega, she thought to herself. With a grin broadening over her face and eyes glinting with savage glee she launched herself the small remaining distance towards the two men...
Cyril watched from the shadows of her chosen hiding spot with one eyebrow raised in disbelief at the ease in which Dyrra incapacitated her targets. The human side-stepped to the right and slashed at one of the men, looking bemused as his body dropped to the ground, then slipped beneath the others' guard and dispatched him just as swiftly.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Dyrra demanded. "Keep up, we need to keep moving!"
With a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, Cyril materialized from the darkness and followed the Templar farther towards their goal.