These Violet Delights Have Violet Ends

[Meira]

She pressed her foot down, pushing the speeder bike's pedal to full throttle. All around her, the wreckage of buildings blurred into streaks of rust, stone, and the few flashes of neon from signs that still functioned. When the news that Simone had returned to Nar Shaddaa had reached her, Ylva knew that she would have to find him. He'd escaped once, running off to that rim world as if he could simply hide from the inevitable. She'd hoped that he would come to her, but Simone seemed intent on helping the futile resistance that was being mounted at the Blind Eye. Ylva flexed her jaw.

While much of what she'd been before was now gone, lost in the all consuming song, some things still lingered. The connection, and affection, that she had for Simone and the rest of the Jolly Janitors was one of those things. It was little wonder that such bonds would survive her transformation. What was the Chorus, if not a perfect and eternal connection to others? The fact that Simone was incapable of sharing in this new bond had caused her great pain. The fact that he'd run from her rather than trust her to provide him with the only mercy left to him had broken her heart. She knew that once the Spire fired and she was remade, such emotions would be gone from her forever. It was perhaps that knowledge that drove her now to complete the work. She needed to close this chapter, once and for all.

Ahead of her, a twisted beam -once a support for a high rise now crumbled- blocked her passage. With a twitch of her eyebrow, Ylva reached out and forced it aside. The groan of metal and stone could be heard even over the roar of the bike's engine. Here, with the Spire and its rising sister so near, Ylva felt as if she could move the planet itself. She hadn't even bothered to bring any of her Janitors with her on this run. When it had been confirmed that Simone was at The Blind Eye, she simply commandeered the nearest speeder bike, told Forte to keep up, and sped off.

Rounding a corner, the newly created outer defenses for the building came into view. Ylva slowed the speeder to a halt out of range, pulling a pair of binoculars from a pouch on the bike. What people could be spared manned these walls. Beyond them, Ylva knew that Thel had been hard at work prepping other deterrents to assault. With a frown, she stowed the binoculars and moved the speeder to made a wide circle around the area, wondering if Thel's attention had been given to the Jolly Janitor warehouse nearby as well. As she considered, Ylva keyed on her comm to an open channel.

"Simone St. Napttoh. This message is for Simone St. Napttoh." she paused, allowing for any who were listening to bring their full attention to her. "I'm so glad you've come home." Ylva banked her speeder bike, steering around a pile of rubble that had once been a caf shop. "Come out to me now and we'll leave the rest of our friends here to their own fates. You know how this ends, Simone. There's no sense in dragging everyone else into it. Come back to me."

[Jazen]

Chaos. Chaos had come to Nar Shaddaa.

That thought passed through Jazen's mind as he moved from rooftop to rooftop, using a mixture of his Jedi skills and the jetpack on his back to easily traverse the chaotic atmosphere, keeping up high to avoid the fighting that took place below him. It wasn't that he was afraid to join the fighting below, to become part of it. He just found it wasteful to force further loss of life at this point unless absolutely necessary. Above, in the skies beyond, he could feel the Spire and its growing twin, like a caring parent just within reach. Soon the entire planet would be subjugated and the fighting here would stop, as it had on every other planet the Spire had been too. Why waste more lives here then was needed, when soon many of them would join this wonderful harmony? Jazen may not completely have agreed with the methods, but if it brought people faster to the conclusion that fighting was not the answer, so be it.

That said, he had a mission here and there was plenty who would try to stop it. In the distance, he could see the Blind Eye, its defenses active and alive, fending off those that dared try and break through. The place itself was the objective; despite being part of the Chorus, strong willed individuals still managed to hang onto some part of their former selves in a sense. For Jazen, it was his distaste for using the Spire to force joining. He knew it to be the fastest, most efficient way, but there was still a sour taste in the back of his mind about it, even as he helped achieve it. For Ylva, the woman he had come here with to help, it was bringing her friend from the Janitors, one of the few to escape, into the fold. It was almost the one final obsession she had before the Chorus would engulf her completely.

Landing on a roof near his objective, two men came rushing out towards him, weapons drawn. Jazen frowned behind his helmet, before a quick series of shots from his blaster put both men down. Alive, mind you, the shots to their hand and knees, before swift kicks to the head left them out cold on the ground. Waste not life that the Chorus could use, after all.

His comm channel dinged and clicking it on, he heard the sound of Ylva's voice, calling out to Simone within the walls of the Blind Eye, to come out and join them, join her, and leave the Blind Eye to its own. Jazen had to wonder, whether Simone would accept it or stay steadfast in trying to protect the Eye. Part of him hoped he surrendered easily. The other, well...the other hoped he stayed for now. A wonder why. Turning himself away, he zeroed in on Ylva's presence, both in the Force and within the CHorus. Few could do both and it took little time for him to follow and find her, his mind touching hers as easily as if they were standing next to one another.

"Hopefully he sees reason, as I did. But the chances are he'll hold out inside, or be convinced too. You have a plan for breaching through the defenses? I know a thing or two that might help but we'd need a distraction to draw their attention away long enough for us to slip past unnoticed." If it helped Ylva, Jazen would do it. The Chorus would benefit as well...was that not the best thing of all?

[Fromikeable]

The siege had been eerily easy thus far. The Blind Eye’s defenses had deployed the moment the Spire had started to glow, the signal it glowed across the moon being obvious. But the Archeri hordes, for all their activity, had not yet focused on them. Not yet, anyway. When they’d deployed the turrets, the fungoids had only attacked in small squads. When they’d deployed the droids, the invaders didn’t even take notice unless they were shot at. It had only been when the checkpoints and outposts had been manned that the attacks had begun in earnest.

Even still, Vance was wary of their success. The Chorus didn’t have to break their walls down. They didn’t even need to attack the Exchange agents or defenses; Vance guessed they were doing so more to prod and test than to overtake. No, they didn’t have a single reason to force what would happen if nothing changed.

Time was on their side, and everyone knew it.

Vance did his best not to dwell on that. He had only been able to prepare for everything else. From where he sat, in the Eye’s forward security office, he had just been trying to glue his eyes to the ground. Between him, Hertz, and Lovelace, every challenge hurled their way so far today had been repelled. A squad of Archeri ships trying to crash into the building? Shot down in flames, now resting a few blocks away in an inferno. The initial wave of the Archeri assault? Repulsed with speeder cores set to detonate on command and a contingent of Unseen droids repurposed to be walking bombs. A duo of perfectly attuned mercenaries trying to front as hapless victims?

One shot dead, the other writhing and cursing as she clawed at the sonic collar on her neck.

So when the radio crackled to life with Ylva’s voice, Vance almost failed to be fazed. Her demands were another bullet on the never-ending list of tests today. If anything, they were at least expected. When Simone had come fumbling in and yelling a mile a minute about Ylva’s actions on Bothawui, they’d almost had to resuscitate him. A stay in a room in the basement with a sonic collar had proven that he wasn’t infected.

The thing that finally made Vance sit up, however, was the duo of beeps that came from the comms’ biometric network. Before Hertz could get up from the seat beside him to check and see who it was, Vance’s presence was already shooting out, his brows knitting as they felt the twisted, wrangled remains of a once familiar being.

Picking up the receiver to the security room’s radio, Vance’s voice crackled to life over the airwaves.

”Don’t say I never warned you.” Dropping the receiver, Vance summoned his helmet to his hand. As he sealed it, Hertz confirmed the downed Exchange agents.

”You’re not going out there alone, are you?”

”Not if I can help it.” As his helmet sealed and his HUD booted, Vance moved to exit the room, the comm in his headgear coming to life. ”Ping whoever’s available, tell them to meet me outside.” With a nod from Hertz, Vance stepped out into the main lobby of the Blind Eye, heading toward the entrance-turned-airlock saber in hand.

[Rugs]

“Well see, your problem is that you’re tryin’ to muscle-fuck this into working.” A bright light shone over Io’an, bathing the back of his blonde-haired head in white light. He felt a bit like a surgeon, with the droid laid out on the workstation before him, his patient on an operating table. It’d taken a beating in an Archeri assault on one of the Exchange's safehouses a few days back. It was damaged, but not worthless--an explosive charge bolted in its chest ensured its greatest glories might still be ahead of it.

If they could get the thing working. Reflex, Herglic that he was, wasn’t having any luck trying to finesse some wires back to proper functioning order. But then again, Reflex had never been one for droids.

Io’an, on the other, carried a lighter touch. He finished laying the wires and closed the droid’s chassis. As he stood up straight, stretching his back, he flicked the droid’s power switch. Something whirred within it for a long moment, then its photoreceptor lit red.

“See?” Io’an lifted the safety goggles from his eyes to his hair. The surgery mask— a defense against spreading his infection--hid his boyish grin from his Herglic friend.

“Yea, yea.” Reflex was already getting another droid to work on. “You just got lucky. Damn thing would’ve worked for me if you hadn’t taken it away.”

Io’an laughed. “Whatever works for you, big guy.”

The droid picked itself up and went to the workshop’s far corner at Io’an’s instruction. That was another repair down, with dozens more to go. He’d helped out in the shop for the past couple of days as the fighting across Nar Shaddaa intensified. It was less draining than manning some of the defenses himself, and with the Empire and Republic in orbit...

Well, he suspected he’d be back out on the battlefield before long.

“Where does that put us?” Io’an asked, scratching at the tip of a pointed ear. He turned around trying to hide a cough in the bend of his arm.

“Eighteen left in the queue here,” Reflex said. “Secondary shop has about 20. And there’s no tellin’ what’ll come in today.”

Io’an opened his mouth to speak but Reflex raised a thick arm, motioning him to silence as a message flashed across one of the screens crammed together at a too-small desk.

“Looks like Thel’s callin’ for you, Io’an.” Reflex glanced at the Sephi, grinning dumbly. “Not like that, but you might wanna get ready to rumble.”

Io’an wished his mask didn’t hide the scowl that crossed his face. “Very funny,” he said, taking off his workshop apron in favor of his armorweave coat. “Where at.”

“Front door.” Reflex was putting his oversized headset on. “I don’t think you’ll be able to miss it. Hell, you probably know what’s goin’ on, with your Force bullshit.”

Io’an frowned as he walked out. He opened himself to the Force, tentatively--Nar Shaddaa was a mess of death and chaos, and he’d taken to trying to dull his senses as much as he could to keep from being overwhelmed.

What he felt twisted his stomach into knots.

“Dammit,” he muttered, pulling his lightsaber from its hook on the wall as he ran up the steps.

He made it to Vance shortly after. One look told him the former Jedi wasn’t happy. He couldn’t blame him.

“Look, I don’t think you should kill him,” he said. “But how did he end up with her? We had a whole email and everything.”

[Meira]

"Emilio, stop!" Simone shouted, rushing over to the man. "You'll break your back lifting that alone. Here..."

Together, the two men lifted the large crate from where it had toppled off a hover sled. When it was firmly replaced, they each leaned against it, breathing deep and slow. Simone gave the other man a half smile, patting him on the shoulder.

"Sorry boss. Everyone is rushing and I just... There's no time, ya know?"

"I do, I do. But we need everyone pitching in. You can't do that if you throw out your back. There's few enough of us that can move this shit around. Don't rush." Emilio nodded. "Besides," Simone added, "it's only the end of the world."

As the two men -the only surviving Jolly Janitors who'd proved to be immune to the Archeri plague- laughed, a third approached. He was one of the Blind Eye guards and Simone did not know his name. But the look on his face was a plain enough read. Something bad had happened, or was happening. What he didn't know was why the man was coming to them. Since they'd returned, Simone and Emilio had made themselves useful in whatever ways they could. They cleaned and helped in the kitchens, had done laundry and other tasks that the rest of the Blind Eye crew simply didn't have time to do. In the past few days, they'd made themselves useful by inventorying and distributing supplies for those guarding the perimeter. They'd be making their final stand soon. Either the Archeri would fire their damn spire and kill basically everyone, or a miracle would happen and they'd all be saved. When the news came that the Republic and the Empire would be sending their fleets to fight the Archeri, that miracle began to seem a little more real.

"What is it?" Simone asked, standing up straight as the guard approached.

"You said you wanted to know if there was word of your boss." the man replied, then held up a datapad. "She's here."

On the screen, drone footage showed a Zabrak woman on a speeder bike. After a few moments, her voice came over the datapad's speaker, calling for him. Simone let the recording loop once before handing it back to the man, a barely audible "thank you" escaping him. As the guard went back to his business, Simone leaned over the crate, touching his forehead to the plasteel surface and sighed. Emilio, who had gone rigid at the mention of Ylva, now deflated at seeing his good friend so troubled. Reaching out, he rested one large hand on the back of Simone's head and hoped that its weight might be some comfort. There were no words to say now. They'd said them all already, over and over. She was not herself. Those damn Archeri were the ones doing this. It wasn't her fault. The words were true, but they didn't erase the memory of Ylva and the other infected Jolly Janitors chasing down those who'd not been affected, or their emotionless eyes as they'd slaughtered their own friends... their brothers.

"Alright then." Simone said, causing Emilio to lift his hand and turn to him. "I'm going out to her." Simone pushed himself away from the crate to stand straight and turned to leave.

"Like hell you are!" Emilio said, his hand shooting out and grabbing Simone's arm to spin him around. "She wants to kill you!"

"No she doesn't." Simone replied, shrugging away from Emilio's grip. He raised a hand as the other man opened his mouth to protest. "I know. I'm not delusional, Lio. She will kill me. But we know that's not her. She's giving the rest of you a chance, though. I'm not going to hide in here while other people fight her and die. If I go, she'll leave you all alone. She doesn't even know you're here. You'll be safe."

"No one is fucking safe, Simone!" Emilio spat, his jaw clenching to hold back the emotion welling in his eyes. "You're all I've got now."

Simone smiled, his arms reaching out and pulling Emilio into a tight embrace. "It'll be alright." Simone said into Emilio's shoulder.

"Or it won't." Emilio said back, and both men chuckled.

---

"Distraction, eh?" Ylva said, her comm now switched to a private channel between herself and Forte. He might be able to do that telepathic shit, but she could not. "One big, damn distraction coming up."

Keying off her comm, Ylva changed course and moved back toward the barricades around the front of the Blind Eye. Bringing the speeder to a halt just beyond them, she approached on foot. She came to a stop in the middle of the road, hands held out from her sides, empty. Several heads peered over the makeshift walls at her, but no one fired just yet. Ylva turned in a circle, then paused for a few moments. When she was sure all eyes were on her, she closed both of her hands into fists. Along either side of the roadway, the broken chassis of two speeder transports groaned as their metal contorted, as if squeezed by giant invisible hands. With a wicked smile, Ylva lifted her arms and the transports lifted from the ground. They hovered there for a moment, and then Ylve threw first one, then the other directly at the barricade.

"Knock knock!" she shouted as she reached out to lift another.

[Jazen]

True, Ylva could not communicate as he could via their minds, even with their connection now via the Chorus, but it mattered little as far as Jazen was concerned. The advantage it had was that he could speak to her via it and anyone who /might/ have managed to crack into their comm signal would only hear half of the conversation, which meant if Ylva needed to be clever with words, they could mislead others. Or, as he'd done once long ago, they could speak of one thing, while via telepathic communication, Jazen would reveal the real plan.

Luckily in this instance, neither was really required. Those hidden in the Blind Eye were too busy dealing with a million things and the comm channels were so flooded with calls for help or aid, they didn't have time to look for signals between two people on an entire planet. Which meant that as Jazen approached the Blind Eye from above, hidden in shadows, Ylva was free to approach the barricades in front unmolested and free. Without even seeing her, Jazen was aware of where she was, both in the Force and in the Chorus...and felt that swell of power in her as she effortlessly lifted two fallen transports and flung them like a child flings a toy at the barricades. She had truly come so far, now that Jazen had found the proper way to show her how to tap into the Chorus once he was bound. That and the proximity of the Spire, made her the match of any Jedi Knight, at least on that level.

Guards ran to and fro to take cover as she continued her attack, while Jazen, blaster rifle in hand, fired calmly into the chaos at the right moments, stunning guards or knocking them down in a way that would keep them out of the fight. Enough to clear a path for him to move through the chaos to a side door, his fingers flying over the keypad hidden out of sight. The Eye had several of these carefully hidden doors, escape routes and secret exits that could be used to discreetly leave or enter the compound. They were so well hidden, that if Jazen didn't know this one was here, it would look almost like any other part of the wall. And as it were, since they had been unaware of his conversion, they hadn't changed the codes yet either. The door hissed open with a sigh and Jazen sent a call to Ylva, who was tossing chaos like a woman possessed.

"We have a way in. Come to me, its time to find your friend. And open the Eye, so they might see, so to speak."

That's when he felt them. Two presences in the Force, familiar as the sun rising. Io'an and Vance, both manning the defense, coming to the fro. It seemed like they had managed to sense him flirting about, a silent curse to himself for not masking himself earlier. Into the shadows his presence in the Force crawled deeper, not enough to truly hide, but enough to make it hard to lock onto his presence properly. Only someone like Lidah or Locke could do that now, with their deeper connection to him. Hopefully it would work long enough for him and Ylva to get in and out with Simone and back out again, the defenses breached long enough for their brothers and sisters to charge in and capture the place.

But he readied his weapons and his lightsaber all the same.

[Fromikeable]

Io’an’s arrival prompted a bit of relief to Vance. Regardless of how unhappy he felt at the mere prospect of having to deal with the Archeri’d former Exchange members, the prospect of having to do so alone sounded even worse. Having someone to lend a hand, especially someone as capable and trustworthy as their newest friend (though by this point, “new” felt hard to say), was more than welcome.

His question, however, made Vance sigh loudly, his hands flopping to his sides. ”That dope doesn’t read, apparently.” Checking his belt one last time, Vance finally patted his helmet, rolling his shoulders. ”I can shut Ylva down if yo-”

”Shit!” Hertz beside them jumped in his chair, his hands scrambling over the small console in front of him. After a second, he turned to them both, his jaw clenched. ”Something just obliterated Checkpoint Crimson!” A loud beep from the console sent him leaning back in, a notification popping up on both Vance’s and Io’an’s HUDs.

”And one of the old, bolted side doors is being breached. Panel 1-”

”17, I see it.” Vance’s tone dipped lower with every syllable, irritation starting to ripple through his presence. ”Io’an, go out there and tell Ylva to fuck off.” Vance’s saber rocketed to his hand quickly enough for him to squeeze it, his head shaking repeatedly as he bit his lip.

”I’ll be there in a minute.” A sonic collar from atop Hertz’s desk rocketed to Vance’s other hand before he took off at a brisk pace, heading out the airlock and following the edge of the building. Even as he walked, his presence swirled and whipped as it set to work, feeling outward and simultaneously folding in on itself, building strength in Vance’s body. By the time he arrived at the room, it gave up its search, finding little, focusing purely on channeling back into Vance’s own form.

As he came around a corner, he finally came to see the intruder, his armor indistinguishable. As he finally opened sealed panel, Vance’s gloved hand shot out, his fingers whipping as the panel slammed shut with lethal force, crumpling under the strain.

”Welcome home!” Vance’s saber hissed to life, the dark green stark against the purple spores that flooded the air. Another flick of his hand whipped a short, concussive burst of the Force at Jazen, aiming to shove him away from the Eye.

”How was Saki, Jazen?” The time for fake names had officially ended.

[Rugs]

Io’an’s lips pressed to a line at Vance’s answer. His brow furrowed deeply in concern. “I would expect more for...” he paused, still not entirely unsure of Forte’s exact role in the Exchange. The armored Force user was still a bit of an enigma, but he’d at least been helpful on Gamorr.

Though Vance hadn’t been happy about the Augur Hawk.

“Well, someone of his stature,” he finished. “Maybe he’s been busy?”

A rush of the Force, tainted with the Archeri stick, rolled over Io’an’s senses as Hertz, startled, announced that something was breaking through one of the barricades. Io’an nodded grimly at Vance’s instruction and started to head off.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said.

Io’an took a few steps, each quicker than the last until he broke out into a jog. He opened himself to the Force, letting it flood him, strengthen him even as it set his head to pounding. It was, perhaps, inevitable that Ylva would return to the Eye.

He just hoped he could prevent things from coming to blows.

He stepped through the main entrance shortly later, coughing as he caught his breath. A thin sheen of sweat lined his brow, but with the Force — and some high-octane stims that would probably have him knocked out for a day straight once the battle was over — flooding through his system, he felt as close to normal as he had in months.

Checkpoint Crimson was in ruins. A broken speeder’s corpse was lodged through the metal wall, with dark scratches worn into the metal surface below as if they’d been dragged through like toys. Io’an stepped around the wreckage, hand on his blaster. He could feel her, nearby.

A burst of the Force called his attention directly ahead. Another broken transport, this one still in flames, came hurtling through the air. As some Exchange thugs behind him screamed and darted to cover, Io’an lifted a hand.

The transport stopped midair, its motion arrested by Io’an’s grip in the Force. With no small effort, he guided it to the side and set it gently down on the ground. As he stepped forward through the crumpled barricade, he saw her.

Ylva Vuk stood before the Eye, the silhouetted against the mountainous second Spire rising from Nar Shaddaa’s underbelly in the distance.

“Ylva,” Io’an said, his tone warning. “I don’t know what you think you’re getting out of here with, but you’re not going any further.” He turned his head to the side as a coughing fit shook him.

“And how,” he went on when the fit passed, “did you get Forte wrapped up in all this?”

[Meira]

The third transport, a chunk of duracrete the size of a Hutt, a vending machine... BOOM!

"WOOOOO! Jackpot!" Ylva screamed, grinning wickedly as the explosion rose into the air in a ball of flame. "Are those booby traps? Thel! You've outdone yourself!"

Cackling, Ylva continued to lift and throw the largest things she could find, hurling them toward the barricade and the surrounding structures. She moved about, here and there, just to keep anyone dumb enough to peek over the walls unsure of where exactly she was. She danced like this for a few moments, putting little spins on her projectiles, seeing if she could bounce them from the ground and then onto the barricade, and so on. Eventually, word would get to Simone that she was out here, raining havoc on the Blind Eye and that sense of guilt would begin to eat away at him. Idly, she wondered how many of these futile freedom fighters would have to die before he surrendered himself. She knew that it would not be many. That sense of guilt of his had always been somewhat overactive, in her opinion. Just as she was getting into a rhythm, she felt Forte's voice in her mind once again. For fuck's sake! she thought to herself. Why can't he just talk?

"One," she said, keying on her comm again with one hand as she lifted another wrecked transport with the other, "I have no idea where the hell you are." She chucked the vehicle at a stray head that peaked over the top of the barricade. "Two, I'm busy. If you can get in and find him, great. But I ain't making it much further, ghost boy." It was true, for all the damage Ylva was doing to the barricade, she was nowhere near ready to march on past it.

"Three-"

“Ylva,”

"I'll have to call you back."

The transport hadn't hit. It still hovered in mid air, but she no longer had any hold on it. Instead... "Well I'll be damned!" Ylva exclaimed. It was that skinny nerd from the auction! Ylva had completely forgotten about him. At his next words, Ylva's surprised and slightly manic smile turned quickly to a frown. But it was short lived, as he then began a fit of coughing, a sure sign that he was one of the weakly attuned.

"C'mon, Yoder! You don't know that!"

“And how,” he continued, “did you get Forte wrapped up in all this?”

There was a pause, in which Ylva held her hands palm up and shrugged her shoulders. "It was probably my overwheling sexual magnetism." In a blink, Ylva flexed her arms, causing the duracrete between herself and the nerd to crack and shift, causing whole plates of it to slant upward, or down as the ground itself rumbled.

---

"I can't just let you go out there. We're under attack!"

The guard shoved Simone back. It would have been comical under different circumstances; the guard barely came up to Simone's shoulder. Under different circumstances, Simone wouldn't have moved an inch. But these weren't different circumstances and he wasn't about to fight this man, so he rolled back with the shove and took a step to balance himself.

"The attack is because of me, dumbass. If I go out there, she stops."

"Orders are to keep everyone inside."

"She'll start killing people!"

"Thel can handle this. Get back to your station. We're all hands on deck."

Simone ground his teeth together in frustration, his eyes moving between the guard and the one holoscreen he could see through the open door of the security station behind the man. It showed Ylva, standing alone outside one of the checkpoints, her arms flailing in large arcs and giant, unrecognizable blurs flashing past. Then, another figure came just into the edge of the camera's view. Simone quickly recognized the slight frame, not as Thel, but as Io'an.

"Fuck."

[Jazen]

If it wasn't for Jazen's enhanced abilities as a result of joining the Chorus, Vance's sudden attack might have sent him tumbling end over end away from the Eye. If he hadn't caught that wiff of his sudden appearance in the Force a moment before Vance appeared, the outcome would have been the same. So by a combination of the two, Vance did manage to catch him slightly by surprise, but his mistake was closing the panel first; it gave Jazen just enough time to throw a counter push up to deflect most of the sudden push away, his feet skidding along the ground as he was shoved away from the Eye, gravel crunching under his boots as the tell tale snap-hiss of a lightsaber snapping to life could be heard.

His dark helmet tilted upwards slightly to study the man who had come out of the Eye, a hiss in his voice it seemed as he addressed him. An interesting development; the panel must have been booby trapped since he didn't recall an alarm being on it before. Stupid oversight on his part, but it was what it was. A problem to deal with...and possibly an opportunity to remove one of the Eye's key defenders before the main rush came.

"Saki was just fine. Weather was nice, the people were...mostly pleasant. Course now it belongs to the Chorus but that's probably for the better really. Some of them were quite at ends with each other." Rising to his feet proper, Jazen's hand strayed to his belt, where his blaster was ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. "Such venom in your voice though for me. I wonder, would you have the same venom for Lidah if she finally caved to the influence of the Chorus? To Io'an? Or is that just for me, like I've betrayed you or something?" He asked casually, his senses reaching out, feeling the area around him.

Through the Chorus, he could still feel Ylva easily, but he could also sense there was another affected nearby...Io'an himself. And he and Ylva were in close proximity, which meant that while Vance had come here to stop Jazen, Io'an was doing the same to impede Ylva no doubt. Two defenders out, two very key defenders? This might be a better chance then just bringing out Simone for Ylva's benefit. Slowly, calmly, Jazen's boots crunched as he moved to adjust his position, his stone face never leaving Vance, watching for the slightest movement, the sensation in the Force of an attack. And that collar...he knew exactly what it was for. And he had no intention of letting it get placed on him.

"You know what we want. Simone comes with us, we leave. No one needs to get hurt here; as much as I hate to say it, eventually you'll all just be part of us soon. Just let us have him and poof, gone we go. Then you can go about your day, until the Spire shows you just what your missing out on." His voice was calm, almost sad he had to say such things. "Don't make this difficult Vance. Ylva just wants her friend. Surely that's not too much to ask, is it?" Probably a foolish question, as Vance was no different then him before he saw the Chorus truly for its worth. He would likely fight...but Jazen had to try.

And if his try failed, well...blaster and blade would answer. Again he reached out to Ylva, although this time he used a close comm from within his helmet. He had sensed her annoyance that time. "Seems we both have unwanted guests. I think I can sense Simone within...seems he's in turmoil. If we stall for time, good chance he comes out. Try not to hurt Io'an too much...he's a good man and would fit well in the Chorus when he caves. Wound him a little perhaps...that might draw Simone out for sure."

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

”It’ll be alright, Simone.” Lidah flicked the ornate cigarette holder in her hand, scattering half an inch of ash on the security booth floor. The Force collar around her neck chafed and buzzed – she was at the end of her patience for the device. The worst part was the waiting, sitting and watching the screens like her hirelings, like anybody else. Brushing her hair to one side, she exhaled a plume of fragrant blue smoke and beckoned the Jolly Janitor over. He wasn’t looking so jolly, these days. Pity – she was still waiting on this year’s calendar. There would probably never be another, on account of … Well. How many of the Janitors were even left at this point? All gone after Madame Wolf, for one reason or another. ”Get this for me, please?” Lidah tilted her head and waited, watching him through half-lidded eyes. Little favors built rapport, a relationship, and this perhaps drew his attention from the destruction outside for a moment. The Force collar in question had been custom built for her and so was no more difficult to remove than a particularly bulky necklace. ”That’s better. Thank you.” She sighed appreciatively as the weight fell away, rubbing her neck with her free hand. Her senses stretched out, numb with lack of use but still so much more informative than eyes and ears alone. ”I wont ask you to stay, if you feel that you need to go out there. But as my employee, you are owed whatever protection I may offer.” Ylva’s gleeful destruction was a bright, worrying pinprick. Her Chorus-imbued gift for telekinesis seemed nothing short of impossible – at least according to the teachings of any Force adept order Lidah had ever studied. But Jazen Solari. His betrayal had to be answered first. Brushing past one of the recovery teams, Lidah touched her hands to shredded armorweave, melted nylon. The man was out of breath from screaming, left knee ruined beyond repair. He gasped piteously as his comrades lowered him down onto the first reasonably clear and clean surface – the bar. ”It’ll be alright.” Lidah repeated. The sticky blood on her fingers felt very strange, cool and clean, the Force flowing inward. She tried turning it outward. Beneath the gore, the change was almost invisible. ”Excuse me, Ms. Faine. I need to see to him.” Their harried surgeon cleared her throat at Lidah’s elbow. ”Take another scan before you cut anything off. That’s an order.” ”Yes ma’am.” Confusion passed through the other woman’s tired gray eyes, but she pulled a pocket medical scanner off of her belt nevertheless. ”Would he talk to me like that? Of course not.” Lidah strolled forward, a saber hilt held loosely in each hand. She’d not had time to dress for a fight, but a shield belt borrowed from one of her commandos hummed at her waist. Long years among the Sith kept her disgust and anger from her face, but they came through obviously in her voice. In the cold sleeting mist of her uncloaked presence in the Force. ”Of course, if I were in your shoes, matters might be different. Let’s see ...” She shifted her posture, side face. ”First, you disregarded direct orders from the Compeer – and then you went larking off to Saki of all places. Which is not held by the Chorus, you should know.” Lidah smiled at Vance, glad he’d made it here despite how exhausted he must have been. She tried to bolster him subtly through the Force. “Now all that, for what? Chasing after my cleaning lady? Who, I might add, we’ve put out multiple company wide memos about as she’s gone bugfuck crazy. So why did you do it, Jazen? And why did you come back here? “You know who and what I am. This masquerade – and whatever else it is – is over. I swear I will kill you if you stay.”

[Fromikeable]

Vance tried not to relish the sight of Jazen's visor turning to face him, the sound of the man's boots skidding in apparent surprise a small victory in and of itself. The crumbled, jammed panel was a statement; the Eye was not so easily entered, and Vance would keep it that way. He had for almost half a decade now, and no one, not total strangers nor people as familiar as Jazen, would change that. The galaxy beyond Nar Shaddaa may have been the former Jedi's domain, but on this tiny rock, among these billions of people, in the trenches of this homefront of crime warfare and fungoid invasion, Vance was a king, and Lidah was a god.

Woe to those that earned their ire and came back to gloat about it.

The question that was cooed at him in an abnormally calm tone was about to earn a barked response when someone else took the cue. Vance would have been annoyed if it had been anyone else, but even just sensing her as she walked up from behind, his smirk bloomed into a full-on smile. As Lidah came to stand beside him, side-facing their opponent, he returned her smile with a rampant one of his own, his presence swelling. Her effort through the Force eased his aches and lessened his pains, but the effect on his morale was far more noticeable. Shifting his own stance beside her, he mirrored her side-stance, his saber held before him in both hands.

With that, he was more than content just to listen. With every word she said, with every bit of clarity she laid out their grievances, every hint and hiss of dissatisfaction in her tone, he couldn't help but nod along. It said everything he'd wanted to shout and growl more clearly, more fluently, and more punctually than he could've delivered it alone.

"I was just gonna' call you a loser and chuck a speeder at you." Nodding at Lidah, Vance's knees bent a little lower. "Her answer was better." One of Vance's hands shot out toward a neighboring building, his fingers grabbing a fistful of air and pulling them. On cue, the Force swelled as an entire chunk of the building tore away in a sickening crunch. Pieces as small as bricks and as big as entire walls came soaring down much faster than gravity alone would have bid them to travel toward Jazen, each whistling its own tune of of death from above against the spore-filled air.

[Rugs]

Io’an sighed. It was probably too much to hope that Ylva would back down. Why would she, after striking at the seat of Lidah Faine’s power? No one could just back down from that.

Not without making a real effort, anyway.

“It was probably my overwhelming sexual magnetism,” Ylva boasted.

For the first time since stepping outside, Io’an smirked slightly as the ground began to buckle and crack. “Is that so?” he asked. “Can’t say I’d know anything about that.” The Force flowed as Io’an stepped back from the crumbling duracrete walkway. With the barricade in ruins, it fell to him to stop Ylva from getting any nearer to the Blind Eye.

It also fell to him, in his mind, to stop her from causing as much collateral damage as possible. But how to do it? Even with her betrayal, he was as loathe to kill her as he was anyone. A shot with the disruptor pistol might prove fatal. If he could get close with the lightsaber, he could probably subdue her.

But with the Zabrak throwing the Force around — did the Chorus gift her the ability to use it, just as it had strengthened his own? — there was little chance of closing the gap cleanly.

He extended a hand, contesting Ylva’s efforts on the duracrete. She was, in this at least, surprisingly capable. Io’an felt himself straining to calm the rumbling walkway. But what did she know? How much can she handle at once?

“You know,” he said, as one of the burning husks of a speeder lifted from the ground at his command, “neither of you have any chance of winning this.” As if to underline the point, he felt Lidah’s presence — angry and powerful — blossom in the distance, near Vance. Another burst of the Force followed in what he could only assume was an opening of hostilities with Forte.

The speeder turned in the air and, as Io’an released his efforts on countering Ylva’s attack, lurched through the air. The speeder was a threat in and of itself but not the threat. As soon as it was gone from his grasp, Io’an’s focus shifted to the air it sailed to, using the Force to make subtle alterations to its chemical makeup. As the oxygen count in an area near Ylva suddenly ballooned, the flames swelled to a sudden, raging blossom as the speeder hurtled toward Ylva.

[Meira]

"Miss Faine..." Simone's response was half surprise at seeing the Compeer and half concern for the state the woman was in. He wondered at her as he was bidden over to help remove the force collar she wore. His large hands were surprisingly nimble and he had the clasp open in a moment. He was careful not to touch her, though he'd had the impulse to gently rub at the base of her neck. But touching her seemed wildly presumptuous. One did not simply touch mythical creatures so casually. Familiar though her tone of voice seemed, the Compeer was still far above him both socially and within the schemes of the Exchange; a nobility of her own sort. And she fit the part quite well. Simone had never seen the mysterious woman with so much as a hair out of place. Now, though the effects of the Archeri plague were noticeable, she still somehow managed to radiate that aura of confident and absolute leadership. Ylva had her own version of that glow. It was not as bright, nor as refined, but she'd had it. A sideways glance at the maniac outside the gates still visible on the monitor had Simone wondering if Madame Wolf would ever return to her former glory.

"Thank you, Miss Faine." Simone sighed, eyes now looking on with horror at the state of the injured being brought inside for care. Yet even with the memories of the other Jolly Janitors, and now with this proof before his very eyes, it felt wrong to cower and hide from Ylva. His eyes sought out the Compeer again, but the woman had left. Muttering another curse under his breath, he steeled himself once again.

---

The duracrete crumbled. She could feel it turning to grains as if running her hands through sand. A thrill of elation rushed through her at the sense of power. She could feel her blood pounding in her ears as adrenaline surged through her body, spurring her on. The laughter rippled through her again, springing from her lips like a child splashing through rain puddles. But then... it did not feel the same. Furrowing her brow, Ylva flexed her arms, the knuckles of each hand straining as she forced more of her will, more of the Chorus, into her efforts. What the hell? Glancing up, she saw that the nerd was focused as well. Was he trying to stop her? Could he do that? The little shit... Knowing now what the resistance was, she pushed harder. Still, he seemed to hold her efforts back. It was bullshit. She could lift that boy with one arm. How was he able to stop her from doing this?

“You know, neither of you have any chance of winning this.”

She looked up to see him lifting a vehicle into the air. Huffing out a single breath, Ylva ceased her efforts on the pavement, dropping her hands to hang casually at her sides. "You see that, Yeoman?" she shouted back, gesturing over one shoulder to the looming Spire. "That's what winning looks like. This is just foreplay."

The speeder lurched through the air and Ylva chuckled. If he could stop her efforts, surely she could stop his. She reached one arm up, her will shooting out toward the burning, twisted wreck. The explosion caught her full force. She shock wave of the sudden detonation slammed into her as if that speeder were something more like a light freighter. The Zabrak woman tumbled backward, colliding against a pile of rubble before the searing heat of the flames could even register in her mind. She was sprawled on the pile of duracrete, her vision nothing but blinding white and the smell of burnt hair in her nostrils. The ringing in her ears drowned out all other sounds.

"Hurry! While she's out!" the voice sounded like it was speaking through several layers of thick cloth.

Suddenly, there were hands on her, grabbing at her arms and pulling her upward roughly. Spinning shapes and colors slowly started to come into focus while the words he's a good man swirled inexplicably through her mind. She growled as a hand twisted her arm while trying to maneuver her.

"She's coming to. Get the collar!"

The world suddenly snapped into laser sharp focus. Two men, faces concealed behind breathing masks were struggling to heft her frame into a seated position. One loomed over her while the other used his own weight behind her to prop her up. Ylva threw her head back, her horns slamming into the clear visor of the man's mask and cracking it. She kicked her leg out toward the other man, knocking whatever he held in his hands to the ground. They each exclaimed. The one that held her instantly released her, his hands flying to cover his cracked mask. The other, in a panic, began to run.

Jumping to her feet, Ylva grabbed the first man by the mask, jerking her arm side to side until it loosened from his face. She kicked, her boot connecting with his newly exposed nose and sending an arc of blood through the air and the lingering spores. She reached out, her will gripping tight to the pack on the other man's back and halting his progress so suddenly that his arms and legs swung forward with his lost momentum. She yanked her arm backward and the man came soaring toward her. She caught him, snaking one arm under his chin while the other ripped his mask away in one grand sweep. As he squirmed in her tightening grasp, hands clawing at her arm uselessly, she stomped her boot onto the first man's chest. Once, twice; his limbs flailed at his sides, and then did not. All the while, her eyes glared toward the skinny hacker. Her own blood dripped from a cut on her forehead and from her nose, falling down over her mouth and chin, leaving her teeth a garish white in contrast as she grinned.

"STOP THIS!" Simone's voice rang out across the burned and broken street. For a moment, there was no movement, only the sound of the scattered fires cracking. Simone took several steps forward, his arm held out in supplication and surrender. "Ylva, please!"

[Jazen]

Jazen had felt the shift in the Force before the source of it appeared, that tingling at the back of one's neck when danger was approaching. It didn't take a genius to know who it was coming from; he had sensed her properly the moment she had taken off the collar inside and touched the Force properly since her infection.

That didn't make the shiver of fear that headed up his spine any weaker as Lidah came out from the door he had tried to enter through, her collar long removed and the intensity of her eyes would have sent Jazen to his knees normally. Heck, even with the Chorus in his mind, he felt that overwhelming desire to flee and to tell Ylva to do so as well. Not because he was afraid, not in the typical sense. But because he knew, with both of them there and Io'an battling Ylva...well, they had no chance in hell of coming away from this the winners. Vance was tough enough on his own; Lidah was an entirely different level of her own. Infected or not. He felt her anger like it was a living creature, even though her face maintained the calmest of facades. The power of a Sith Lord.

"I went to Saki because she asked for help. Perhaps not all the Jedi in me faded.As for the warnings, I'll be perfectly honest in that." And he was, there was no deception in his voice when he spoke next. "I didn't see them. I had to abandon my ship during a previous encounter and only saw Ylva's request before I headed there. I didn't think to check the messages aboard my new ship till after. My apologies for that." A slight shrug, as if there was nothing to be done about it now. "I made a mistake. As for why I came here, the answer to that is simple as well. Ylva wanted to bring Simone into the fold. She asked for help doing so. Nothing more, nothing less."

He very well indeed knew who she was. He was one of the few who did. And he knew, even without Vance there, that he had no chance of winning this battle. And then Ylva would be next and it would be a loss of life that didn't help the Chorus at all. Still...he had no chance of /winning/ for sure. But he didn't have to win to succeed. Just buy time a little longer, hopefully. He could feel Ylva's battle raging through the Chorus, through the Force.

His attention turned to Vance once more, as Jazen brought his battle focus in. Calmness washed over him and knew what he had to do. A few minutes; he could hold that long. And he had already called out for a way out of this, when the time came. "Clearly so, since you lack the brains to come up with anything more elaborate. But at least I'm not a dog on a leash." Jazen's attention snapped to the rain of duracrete that came sailing towards him, his reflexes kicking in instantly. His jetpack flared to life as he jumped away from it, hand snapping out to deflect the smaller, faster pieces. His connection to the Chorus made him stronger then normal, his telekinetic skills almost on par with Vance's now. His free hand snapped up, the pistol at his side flaming to life as he fired rapidly towards Vance. He just needed to keep them at a distance for now, stall for time, until it became clear that retreat was necessary or...

He felt it at the same time they likely did. The arrival of another lifeform to the battlefield on Ylva's end, one with a presence that was familiar to them. Reports were likely already flooding into Vance and Lidah. Simone had come out of the Eye and to those inside, was surrendering to the woman who was attacking them. "Well. Looks like someone made a choice of their own." He said quietly to himself as he kept his focus on the dangers in front of him. "Seems Simone has made his choice. Will you let him go freely of his own will or make a further battle of this? We have what he wanted; we'll leave."

[Rugs]

The flames around the speeder, pushed by the sudden influx of oxygen in the air around them, exploded to a blossoming flower of orange and yellow. Io’an raised an arm to shield his eyes from the glare as a whoomph rocked the ground and shook his bones.

Ylva was, of course, alright — at least as alright as anyone could be after that. Io’an inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring at scent of smoke that lingered in the air. “Maybe it is,” he said, willing a firmness to his voice that he didn’t quite feel, with a burst of nausea trying to roll over him, “but you won’t be around to see it if you keep up with this.”

The words felt hollow as they left his tongue. He was hesitant to fight--he hated to kill. Yet here he was, threatening death to this woman who’d been an ally only months ago. His fingers brushed the silver hilt of his lightsaber, still hidden inside his jacket, as a pair of Exchange thugs rushed forward to restrain Ylva. He certainly had the means to. But the capacity?

It won’t come to that. Io’an wasn’t sure if the thought was supposed to reassure himself or blindly hope.

Io’an began to take slow, measured steps forward as the men moved to put the Force collar on Ylva. It was a cruel answer to the Archeri’s influence, for a Force-sensitive, but the only one that worked with any consistency. It’ll be unpleasant, but she’ll thank us in the long run.

But then, everything went wrong.

Ylva, spurred to action, dispatched one guard, then the other in a bloody, messy rage. Io’an was so shocked that he froze in place, as horror twisted his stomach in knots.

“Now you see, Marked One.” The Chorus’ voice in his mind was gloating and self-satisfied. was gloating and self-satisfied. “She has learned our song, and will know victory, eternal.”

“STOP THIS!” Io’an heard the voice, but was only vaguely aware as the Chorus taunted on.

“Yet you, feeble, fight on,” it said. “You resist. Why? Lend your voice and we will teach you more than you could ever know alone.”

“I’ll never join you,” Io’an growled, forcing his focus back to the here-and-now. He jerked his head aside and saw Simone, emerging from the Blind Eye with his hands up in surrender. He was pleading with Ylva to stop the violence.

Io’an felt a rush of annoyance — at Ylva for causing this mess, at Simone for throwing himself at her, and, most of all, at himself for freezing and watching as she killed two of Ms. Faine’s men.

His lavender lightsaber flared to life in his hand, held straight out to the side, as Simone approached. “Stop,” he said quietly, look at Simone from the corners of his eyes. His attention shifted to Ylva and her bloodstained face. In the distance, he could feel the Force raging in what he could only guess was the fight with Jazen.

“Do you know what she’s here for?” The question was for Simone, but said loud enough for Ylva’s ears as his eyes narrowed at her. The Archeri presence enveloping her could hide many things, but not intent. “It’s not to take you away with her.” Io’an’s eyes flicked back to Simone, regarding the big man over his shoulder. “She’s here to kill you, Simone.”

[Fromikeable]

Dog on a leash? Vance couldn’t help but give a confused smirk. Aside from the fact that it was bold talk from a man who had voluntarily entered a hive mind, Vance had heard almost the same thing not so long ago. He’d had to deal with a sad, conceited Sith who had tripped over himself so hard that he’d found out Lidah’s identity. That, of course, and harassed one of Locke’s fellow Jedi. And what had he said to Vance when the latter had told him to abandon the moon or face the consequences?

“I see the pup has fangs.”

Fuck yes it does.

Jazen went rocketing backwards as the debris came crashing down, dust flooding the street. Peering through it as he bent his knees, Vance relied more upon the Force than his own senses to track Jazen through the haze, shoving away errant pieces of rubble with additional shoves of the Force. As blaster bolts sped down at him, his saber twitched to meet each one, the practiced hand of Soresu offering them little purchase.

Cursing his own poor foresight, he shot a hand out at the sky. A gentle burst of the Force struck through the street, the dust rushing away long enough for him to put his eyes back on Jazen.

With another flick of his hand, Vance broke into a sprint. Running parallel to one of the nearby walls, he jumped off of it into the air, falling for only a moment as a chunk of the road was called up to catch him.

”Somebody-”

As the Force swirled within him, Vance rode it for a precious second before lurching off onto a raised chunk of wall, his former ride dropping like a stone. Another jump, another piece of debris came to meet him, his movements becoming bolder, his legs kicking off each with a grace he rarely possessed.

”Wasn’t-”

As he came up to Jazen’s altitude, a broken speeder from the street below shot up, not even being held by the Force as it did so. As it reached the peak of its jump, Vance hopped to it before kicking off, the speeder being sent plummeting to the ground as he soared upward. Coming down with the speed of a living bullet, Vance’s saber swung at Jazen’s jetpack.

”Listening!” As far as Vance was concerned, Lidah’s ultimatum had been immediate. And Jazen was still here.

[Meira]

"STOP THIS!"

Ylva's eyes remained, wide and wild, glaring at Io'an. Her smile snaked wider as she watched the hacker react to Simone's appearance. She said nothing as Io'an ignited his saber. She did not move as he warned Simone. Even the man whose life she held in her arm was still.

“She’s here to kill you, Simone.”

Ylva's eyes followed Io'an's glance then, moving along the rubble strewn street to find the towering specimen that was Simone. His own eyes, dark and warm, were looking back at her now. Simone still held his hands out, empty palms up to the skies. His chest and shoulders rose and fell with each measured breath. For all outward appearances, Simone was calm, relaxed even. But Ylva knew that man inside and out. He'd been her closest friend, her confidant, since she'd arrived on Nar Shaddaa all those years ago. She didn't need the Chorus or the force or any other bullshit to know that he was a coiled spring.

"I know." he said to Io'an, but his eyes remained fixed on Ylva. He moved forward, stepping wide around the humming lightsaber. "Please boss, let him go. I'm here. It's over."

"Looks like today is your lucky day." Ylva whispered into her captive's ear, then planted a bloody kiss on his temple. She relaxed her grip slightly on his throat, causing the man to gasp and gulp in a lungful of spore filled air. "But then again... maybe not."

Releasing her grip entirely, Ylva shoved the man forward. He stumbled several paces, his body stooped and arms swinging to keep his balance. Simone scrambled toward him, grabbing him by the shoulders and steadying him before sending him on his way back toward the barricade and safety. When he was away, Simone turned back toward Ylva, his hands returning to their gesture of surrender. He stood a handful of paces from her now, squarely between her and Io'an. All around them, small fires burned. Above, the new spire loomed into the haze of the atmosphere, nearly complete.

"You'll leave them alone." Simone said, though the statement was more a question.

"I'll leave them alone." Ylva confirmed.

"Alright." and his voice was resigned.

He began to move toward her, and Ylva stepped closer as well. Her own arms came up in a similar gesture to his own. But where Simone's signaled surrender, Ylva's arms were welcoming. He was the prodigal son, wayward and lost, come home at last and forgiven. When they were close enough, she wrapped her arms around his towering frame and held him tight. Simone returned the embrace with his own bone crushing arms and they remained just so for a few moments. Ylva's eyes were closed tight. Her mind was gripping this last memory, desperately holding onto this final moment that was her own. She knew that Simone understood, in what limited way that he could, that this was no act of malice toward him.

From the barricade, Emilio came rushing out, his breathing labored as he slid to a halt just behind Io'an. "Shit." he breathed, seeing Ylva and Simone. "Aww shit... he's gonna do it."

Ylva leaned back from Simone, her hands moving to hold either side of his chin as she looked up into his eyes. His own arms dropped to hang loose at his sides. She smiled, sad and almost shaky, tears threatening to well up in her eyes. Simone lifted one hand to wipe at her cheek bone. As he did, his other hand, careful and slow, moved to the small of his back.

"He has a force collar" Emilio, dipping his head slightly, whispered to Io'an.

Ylva chuckled at Simone's gesture. It had been many, many years since he'd had to wipe away any of her tears. Her eyes glanced away, unable to meet his in that soft moment. They saw Emilio whispering to Io'an. Instantly, a rush of anger coursed through her. Her eyes were back on Simone's now. He saw the change even before she had registered it. Abandoning all sense of stealth, Simone grabbed the collar and swung his arm up to clamp it onto her neck. Her own arm raised to block it and met his with such a force that a clear crack echoed in the air. Simone cried out and the collar went flying. Ylva, a growl rising in her throat, kicked out Simone's knee, bringing the man down with a loud thump. She gripped his chin, turning his body to face him back toward Io'an and Emilio.

"One last look, then." she spat. All smile and bravado was gone from her now. Ylva was fuming. Tears streaked down through the drying blood on her face. Simone's eyes were wide and white. He was paralyzed in fear. He had been so sure he could do it. "Any last words?" Ylva asked, nearly panting with rage.

"RUN EMILIO!"

[Jazen]

None of his shots were connecting with Vance but then, at this distance, Jazen didn't expect them too. It would take a pretty expert shot to slip past Vance's skill with Soresu and Jazen, while much better with a blaster now then he ever was, wasn't quite that good to take down a saber wielder like Vance with it.But he was't trying too. He was stalling for time, now that he sensed Simone's presence outside the compound, the flurry of emotions within Ylva telling the story even though he couldn't see them from his current situation. Good. Now we can be on our way; I've toyed here long enough. ANd if she gets involved, we'll be in real trouble to escape. Jazen's presence called into the Chorus, calling for aid from any infected nearby...they needed a distraction to escape soon.

Jazen's sense flared to life as danger came soaring at him. He had glanced in the direction of the others when he sensed a sudden surge in rage in Ylva, of anger and betrayal and sorrow, and for a brief moment, took his eyes off Vance. The warning screamed like a blaring horn in his mind as the warrior used debris to climb to a height above him and come streaking in like a missile. His blaster was useless here and if he was cut down from this height, the landing wouldn't be pretty.

Blue light snapped to life as Jazen's lightsaber came out from his back, his hand having gone there the second the warning came in his mind. Even so, it was /just/ enough to deflect Vance's blow away him, away from his aerial advantage, their blades flashing together several times in a short few seconds. Vance was the better wielder of Soresu, but Jazen was no slouch in it either, and balancing out for a few moments was simple enough. Long enough for his jetpack to flare to life again and push him away from Vance, heat soaring out of his left wrist as he fired a burst of flame at Vance as he jolted away. Vance's plan had been good and had almost caught him napping...but gravity was cruel and without a jetpack to keep him afloat, Vance was going to start falling back down soon.

NOt that Jazen was staying. No, his part had been played and now something else was afoot. He glanced back to Vance, to Lidah. There was a pain in him about having to leave, about this..betrayal they saw in him. BUt they'd understand when the Chorus took them soon enough. Tossing a couple of grenades from his belt, smoke filled the area as he fled, not a word said or left. Ylva was in danger now and it was time to fall back. And within the Chorus, a cry came, of aid rushing to Ylva's location. Hopefully it would get there in time for both of them.

[Rugs]

Io’an remained unmoving, silently following Simone with his sea-green eyes as the big man walked around his lightsaber. Each step Simone took across the broken rubble strewn through the streets sounded seemed loud as gunfire to Io’an, who’d blocked out everything else but the Jolly Janitor, Ylva and the constant, low thrumming of his lightsaber.

Something, deep in the pit of his stomach, told him that this wouldn’t end well — that it couldn’t. The chorus was too cruel a master, and Ylva too crazed with its influence.

And if Simone sacrifices himself, he thought, watching the man’s broad back as he walked forward, then what?

Crackling fire filled his hearing now as his grip tightened on his lightsaber. Why should Ylva’s mistakes be worth Simone’s life, and why should he allow it?

Why should any of them let Ylva run off into the twilight after mounting an attack to kill her most loyal lieutenant?

Footsteps, hurried, on duracrete. Io’an’s focus shifted to the scene before him and saw the one still-living Exchange thug running away from Ylva. In the distance, Ylva and Simone were talking in low voices.

As the bloodied man ran by, a bloody kiss mark wet and crimson on his temple, Io’an lowered his lightsaber.

”Shit.” He recognized Emilio’s voice as the man came rushing out from barricade. “Aww shit… he’s gonna do it. Io’an, unaware that he’d been pulling on the Force like a dying man drinking water from a desert oasis, turned to Emilio. He felt oddly distant, as a pressure built in his skull. He’d chalked it up as one of the plague’s unending tortures.

“Do what?” he asked. “Get himself killed?”

The Force collar. Io’an’s head whipped around at Emilio’s words to see Simone, slowly pulling the device from his back.


…and Ylva, looking dead at him and Emilio. The sudden rage that erupted within her burned his senses as hot as the fire would have his flesh.

“No,” he whispered, already starting to run. It was too late.

Ylva knocked the collar away with a Force-powered blow that cracked Simone’s bones and sent a chill down Io’an’s spine. “No.” He said more sternly as Ylva threatened death.

A cocktail of raw emotions, kept pressed down through so many unending weeks of fighting and suffering, whipped and tore at his soul. Io’an felt unbalanced, as if he were drowning with every step. He drew more deeply from the Force, vainly seeking relief. The whirlpool of emotions grew only stronger, pulling him under.

Io’an, so tired after so much fighting and enraged at Ylva’s unending betrayal, gave in.

“NO!” He screamed as Simone yelled for Emilio to run. A hand of the Force clutched around Simone and yanked him back, away from Ylva. A thin line of crimson snaked from Io’an’s nose. He was so consumed by the Force he didn’t notice.

“You will leave this place,” he snarled, open hand extended and fingers clawed. The Force tightened like a vice grip around Ylva’s neck. Io’an didn’t quite know what he was doing, and he did not care; he only knew that he could tolerate Ylva’s presence no longer. “Or I will kill you where you stand, and even that is more mercy than you deserve, traitor.”

His grip tightened on her, as if to emphasize the point. He glared at her, his eyes for once showing the cold fury that raged within.

For the slightest moment he loosened the grip. “GO!” he yelled, the Force booming on his voice.

[Actions against Ylva taken with Meira's permission]