Retribution and Justice (Neive)

[Raphael Xandir]

Weapons sat in a fixed position, pointed directly at the door. Raphael could feel the nervousness in the room; the Verpine militia was not prepared for something like this to happen just yet. But still, they headed orders and armed themselves just like the Sith had done to rid the asteroids of the enemy. They all watched as the glowing red light weapon carved a hole through the blast doors with relative ease. They would be ready for anything upon further movement.

His eyes were diverted from the door, as the hole was nearly finished, someone was approaching from the rear. Raphael turned to meet his fellow companion; she was running to the fight with a simple vibroblade to add to it. If she were to stay and fight, she would be clearly outmatched disrupting his focus on the battle at hand as he would be concerned for her well being.

Turning to her, he halted her movements. “What are you doing?” he questioned. Raphael then pointed to the red blade cutting through the door and eyed her weapon. “That weapon will cut right through yours,” he exclaimed, pointing at the light weapon ahead.

The Acolyte then summoned one of the members of the militia to hand over a blaster to the girl. He motioned with his own concussion rifle to aim it down the hall like the rest of the militia had been doing.

Before he knew it, the enemy was moving forward while he was instructing. An ion grenade fumbled down the hall towards them as it halted just in front of the militia’s barricade. The grenade exploded creating an electric shock that rendered all of their weapons and droids useless for the time being. Raphael looked over his companion yet again; maybe she was right to bring a blade to this fight.

“Everyone down!” he exclaimed as another grenade followed the ion.

The militia scattered as Raphael ducked for cover behind the walls and barricade. Shrapnel exploded everywhere, creating a mess of Verpine blood and electrical sparks as they hit computers nearby. Many men of the militia dropped to the ground in agony of the pain. Lights flickered as they struggles to keep up with the lighting of the hallway.

Raphael sat up, inspecting himself for any newly acquired wounds. It seemed as if he was okay, but bodies now lined the floor and he had lost track of the Crow. Grabbing a shiv from his boot, Raphael waited patiently for the intruders to make their way down the hall. His gloved hand reached out to suck the energy out of the lights nearby, sending the path down the rest of the hallway into darkness.

Waiting behind the barricade for their further movements, Raphael heard a distant voice. This voice was one he knew far too well, chaos would soon follow it seemed. Raphael would surely join, but only when the advantage was on his side.

[Kell Sangros]

Warvanus had been patrolling the area in his starfighter, as he approached the area where the tunnels were he unleashed blaster fire upon the tunnels. He wanted to be sure that he had those fools secured in the tunnels as he knew the team was on the ground. So far he had seen no enemy ships or fighters but his scanners were constantly doing sensor sweeps to keep an eye out. He had hoped no Capital ships would try to surprise them if so, and then he would have a challenge of a fight to say the least.

He had passed the tunnels and went to circle around to bring another hail of blaster fire on the tunnels that he suspected were pretty much collapsed, at least where had been concentrating fire power he didn’t want to hit the area where his comrades were. A thought came to him, whether by his own experience talking or a nudge from the Force he could not say, if the enemy who was trapped in the tunnels had any communication device they may try to send a signal out. With that in mind, he flipped the switch and the signal jammer began its work with the intent of jamming any outgoing frequency. He had hoped that it would not affect his allies down below.

[Rahab Aapofi]

The exchange between Lord Blood and she had lasted just the briefest of a moment but it felt like many space minutes had gone by. She hadn’t expected to gain his attention; not with the prey they were pursuing so near. His student had been looking up at him when he had looked down at her. It was then she realized how close she had gotten to him. Her face felt warm. She looked away, with the intention of drawing back when she caught the movement of his hand out of the periphery of her eyes.

She had made to move away faster, to flinch back from him but before she could his gauntleted hand had found its query. Her heart beat quickened, unsure of what his intentions were. The vibroknife was held loosely in her hands. The, familiar, fearful uncertainty gave way to something else, a strange kind of calm as her hand was in his.

Then the moment was over. Rahab’s face felt hot. In the dark paths, all she could do was follow his lead. She extended her senses, her ability to sense life without needing to see with her physical eyes and she felt for the Lord. Her Lord. He was her eyes to which she saw through as he navigated nearer. Their chase coming to a close. The sounds of battle ahead called out to the two Sith.

Rahab’s faithful footfalls behind him fell back, returning to that cautious distance as they came upon the to-be battle field. She observed the room. It seems like they had just missed an explosion of some sorts. She had her small knife clenched her in small hand, holding it flatly against her chest. She hadn’t brought it as a weapon. Practical, frightened, thinking took hold of her once more, this fight promising to form didn’t seem like anything she could effect in the least.

[Kressara Thryn]

Like his shadow Kressara appeared beside Raphael and reached for her vibrosword when her companion stopped her, switching from a partner to a mentor as he chided her about the weapon she carried. The girl struggled to keep her aggressive focus up in that moment, surrendering with a huff before accepting the blaster and failing to maintain her menacing composure. “Never bring a knife to a gun fight, I suppose.” She repeated an old saying to let him know that she agreed and aimed the rifle alongside the Verpine militants that accompanied the sith. Kressara wouldn’t be so awkward as to say it, but the smile that crept onto her lips showed just how much the thought behind his instructions meant to her. With Raphael it could sometimes be difficult to decipher if he truly cared for his companions, so when he took the time to make sure someone was on the right track a little bit more of that bigger picture was unveiled and his image became clearer.

Tink! A pinging sound clashed with the floor in front of them and unleashed an electric wave of disruption that rendered that rifle totally useless, well, not totally. Kressara would bludgeon their enemy to death with the blasted hunk of scrap metal if it came down to it. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when Raphael yelled.

“Everyone down!” He ordered and rushed for cover with the majority of the Verpine, some too stunned and green on the field to react in time. It would seem Kressara was among them, the ones who couldn’t fathom the moment and simply backed away in fear. It would seem. As the grenade whirled through the air towards them Kressara dropped her rifle and took a number of lengthy steps back, snagging two Verpine by the backs of their armor as she went. Their bodies were yanked by the strength of her arms to cover her, their insect like shrieks of terror silenced by the loud boom which percussed through the hall with deadly shrapnel exploding simultaneously. Their bodies were pelted by fragments and as the smoke began to clear Kressara’s relatively unharmed form would stand out once again. Life left the Verpine soldiers and with a thud they collapsed at her feet, her hand then free to draw out the razor sharp blade by her side.

In only a moment’s time the crow went from smiling at her fellow sith to murderously glaring down the darkened hall, the dead sprawled out before her. This intruder had only been a nuisance until now, but the moment he hurled a dangerous grenade at her companions...he made himself the object of all her hatred, rage, and blood lust. The difference between them didn’t matter. His weapon didn’t matter. None of it mattered to Kressara who was now standing like some ghastly executioner between him and her brethren of the sith once again. She would pull pipes off of the walls and use them to beat the enemy down if she must, but that man was NOT reaching Raphael or anyone else of hers who managed to catch up. They were hers.

[Rhoden Carbine]

"Ah... I think he wants you, my friend..." Rhoden said, waving his hands and holding them out to the side, he backed away slowly. There was a loud bang from behind as the grenade went off and his smile broadened as his eyes grew wider beneath his helmet, "Oh, how lovely. I do hope that dealt with the foes to our backs." he said, doubting that were true.

A vengeful verpine--spouting the disgusting goo which was their species' blood from various holes in its exoskeleton--jumped into the mouth of the tunnel and fell dead as Rhoden shot it. "Most unpleasant..." he said. He turned to Neive, "I really have no desire to be diced today." he said through gritted teeth, "Would you kindly do something." his voice rose to a mild panic level.

There was a commotion on the other side of the door, he hefted another device and hurled it back through the tunnel, he snapped, "Stun grenade." he fired blindly out of the tunnel, knowing full well his shots would hit no one from his current angle. He checked his belt mentally, he still had plenty explosives and other tactical devices to spare but if this kind of close quarters engagement continued he would eventually run out of options--excluding blowing himself up as well as his foes....

[Neive Undant]

Neive looked back as he heard the ignition of two blades once again. Neive held his handle tightly as he donned his metal helmet again, his voice distortion turned off. The helmet was not used to conceal anymore... Rather, to intimidate the younger of the duo.

"I'll take care of these two, you make sure we aren't ambushed from behind." Neive spoke to Rhoden without turning to him, not taking his eyes off of Blood.

"As for you two..."

Neive sighed.

"I am saddened to see just how far you have fallen... the sith were a force when I fought with them... but now, you are just struggling to keep your own soldiers in line, let alone able to fight any other faction. A good offensive from the Alliance OR the Empire could easily wipe you off the map." Neive chuckled.

"But I think cutting the head off the beast is one large step forward towards your downfall."
Neive hesitated, looking to the new member of their ranks.

"Ah, a youngling." Neive thought out loud. "Though, it seems to me that you may not have the ruthlessness of your master."

Neive smiled under his helmet. "I want to destroy this Lord Blood, but I won't attack you unless provoked. Your innocence is almost intact, do not let me drive you farther into the dark side then you already have been pulled..."

With that, Neive cracked his neck, looking back at Lord-... no. He looked back at Slade. This man was not worthy of the title of Sith lord, at least not to Neive... He was no Jacobi Wylcott.

"You want a story? I came to this forsaken asteroid field because my colleagues were murdered. Soldiers under my command were helpless as they were ruthlessly killed, by one group. The man behind me is the leader of that group. What I had initially set out to do, was to set a trap here and capture him. Bring in a small amount of Galactic Alliance forces in order to capture him, and put him on trial for all 72 men that stood helplessly as he rained hellfire onto them." Neive held his lightsaber with both hands, watching for any movements to attack.

"I had expected less of a force in the area. But if your willingness to let me take him and leave is so low, I will have to force my own exit, won't I?"

[Slade Xandir]

Everything around him swirled into a silence that could have deafened millions. Blood concentrated on every single word that spilled in a slurpied mess from the lips of that poor damned Zabrak, the one Krox had called himself 'protecting', 'claiming'. His 'Brother' who was uselessly let live so many moons prior on orders of 'trust' and 'honor'. Pitiful and disgusting muck still breathed, spoke, lived, inhaled and exhaled the same air as him.
His hate...
grew.

"I am saddened to see just how far you have fallen... the sith were a force when I fought with them... but now, you are just struggling to keep your own soldiers in line, let alone able to fight any other faction. A good offensive from the Alliance OR the Empire could easily wipe you off the map."

His patience thinned to a needle point. It showed in his stance, as his sabers ignited, illuminating the floor in their classy shade of burgundy hue. Their spitting voice called to Blood, promising to do good by him, refusing to forsake him, swearing to slice through limbs as though it were as measly as a blink. Blood felt the whispers shroud him in their security, laying about his mind in naked and illustrious visions of carnage and delicious murder. Neive was going to be put down, today, and be damned Kroxata. His little war brute of a brother was not here to save him. He would be the one to bring Neive's head back to Kroxata, and lay at his battered brother's broken body. And he would sip the rage from that warbeast of a Zabrak like that of fine wine.
Sweet dreams were made of this...

"I want to destroy this Lord Blood, but I won't attack you unless provoked. Your innocence is almost intact, do not let me drive you farther into the dark side then you already have been pulled..."

"Some of them want to use you...
Some of them want to be used by you.
Some of them want to use you...
But you're someone who's begging to be abused."

Blood retracted himself through the realistics and faded through the beforehand of this meet. Neive had dared to address his packmates as if they were a separate unit moving of their own tandem. As if they were a squabbling pack of babes all fighting for separate play toys. As if they were incompetent.

It was then his fury outran his patience.

"I'm going to make you feel the turmoil of my story, Neive. All of it. And I will listen to the weepings of your brother Kroxata as your minced body lay at his broken knees."

Blood spoke it as if it were teachings in one of the Sith tomes, as if it were facts. Because, it was in fact, facts. Neive would perish, and so would his idiotic brother.
Blood had no more patience for words, and that in itself spoke volumes. He was usually willing to get over on someone with expense of basic words, but Neive had pricks a string in him that couldn't sustain the weight of such redundant encounter. The Sithian would simply not take insult from some traitorous insignificance who came on turf that could have been his. Neive simply had too many strikes against him for redemption. And poor fool doomed the ignorant soul who happened to be here with him.

Blood strode forward, calm despite the hunger within him to cut this Zabrak down. Neive wasn't a novice in a fight, especially if he had once too served under Tormentous, but Blood was plenty positive that he had more training than the Zabrak. Regardless, there were only two of them, whereas there were five of them.
There was no running from this mess they had created.

Kressara and Raphael had open opportunity to scarf down whoever the character with Neive was, whereas Blood and Rahab were at full right to down Neive. Considering War was in the air providing an eye in the sky to any incoming forces, there was nothing and nowhere to run, or even fly to. Towers were offline so no signals came nor went, and while the ships were shut down and asteroids shields being raised, there was not a chance for escape.
There was no turning back...
Neive was going to feel how badly those words came out.

"You've escaped Tormentous' clutches too many times...but mine will not falter, friend..."

It was then the Sith Lord made progress with the distance cut down between them, and with an outreached hand, the unholy swirl of scarlet, amber and gold flung forth, a wave of fire as the Draconian sought to burn the Zabrak down in a chaotic mess of ash and burned blood.

[Raphael Xandir]

(Sorry about the wait. Life comes at you hard sometimes.)

His eyes watched as a member of the wounded Verpine Militia carried forward towards the tunnels. The alien was moving at a rather slow pace as it limped to confront the enemy. Peering over the barricade, Raphael eyed the Verpine as it spewed its inside all over the floor grabbing the attention of whoever was in the tunnel. More goo spewed from the exoskeleton of the Verpine as its body hit the floor with a heavy force.

Raphael then raised his concussion rifle to aim at a point where he assumed the enemy would come out of. Within a moment, the clank of another grenade smacked against the charred walls of the hallways. It managed to fumble around farther away from them then the previous grenades had. Still, he felt the need to duck for cover again as the grenade ignited with a large flash and a loud bang. It was faint, but it still affected the troops as they recovered to their feet.

The young man motioned for the militia to push some of the barricades forward in attempt to halt any more shrapnel attacks. Half of the militia, including Raphael, aimed the barrel of their weapons at the closed door to the tunnels while the other half of the militia provided more obstacles for the grenade happy enemy.

[Kell Sangros]

The instruments and readings all hummed as Warvanus made continous passes applying the signal jammer and keeping his eyes and senses open to any incoming ships. He knew the pack was handling business on the ground, which was fine and he was doing his part by providing air support as he would pass by the tunnels he would unload the hail of blaster fire down on it. Eventually he surmised the tunnels would completely collapse if only the infadels who dared cross into Sith space would pop out in the open he could give them a hail of blaster fire from the starchaser.

He had his comm open so that he could hear the communications from the rest of the pack. It was full of chatter as things were happening on the ground. He tried to not add to the chatter as he was continuing his short patrol . The Comm jams he was doing in incriments as so he could still remain in touch with his pack but he also had the Force, to use as an alternate. Down side it created windows for the enemy to send a comm..

Making yet another pass, Warvanus checked his stores. Fuel he was ok for now, blaster cannons were at 75% of their charge and missles were at 0. He mentally took note as he patrolled in the skies.

[Rahab Aapofi]

Rahab wondered if this was the best use of her time. Being here as the two men aired out whatever grievance they had was feeling voyeuristic and a bit useless. The other was clearly spitting words to rile the Lord, which, no matter the strength of a person, seemed unwise to her. She looked startled at being addressed. The last thing she needed was Lord Blood’s attention diverted to her. They had just shared a pleasant moment but that had been then and this was now. If Rahab had a way to make this enemy combatant cease speaking; crushing his throat, pulling out his tongue, sealing his lips, politely asking him to stop talking, she would have but she could not do any of those things.

“I am twenty-two,” Rahab replied to him, flatly, as the man stretched his neck out. If she could feign disinterest and give a misdirection on what he was saying, then maybe Lord Blood would give it a pass as well. She would have no qualms about stabbing him, should he fall within stabbing range. One dealt with the ghosts that haunted them in the privacy of their own quarters. It was what decent folk did

She looked up at his helmet. Not searching for eyes, the person with in it, just looking as he finally gave Lord Blood the explanation he had been demanding. And as he spoke, Rahab, very slowly, started to edge out from the room.She felt like a liability so close and she didn’t want to be cut in the cross-fire. .

“What a boring story,” She said as Neive had finished, now standing behind Lord Blood. The way they had entered was just a few footfalls behind her, should she need to beat a hasty exit.

Something Lord Blood had said caught her attention. Kroxata was a name that she recalled seeing somewhere but couldn’t remember where. Oh, and Tormentous. She knew that name. Perhaps she should be paying more attention to what was going on. Had this man been apart of the order of the Sith at some point in his life? There was such tangible history here, between them. Her gaze flicked back from the helmet to Lord Blood, with his arm outstretched. Eyes wide, she scrambled to get distance, back over the threshold they had came through.