Space Station Strife (AFTERMATH)

[Rugs]

Foxfire | The Gray Sith | Blue | Jounin | lion | Apillis | CaptainBonkers

---

Captain Shivaree loved and hated the moments before the drop from hyperspace.

Every fight, from the lowest skirmishes against some system security force gone rogue against Sith military might to the most pitched battles as Empire and Republic clashed for dominance, brought opportunity for advancement. Each moment in combat also brought a chance to fail. Or die.

Not today, Shivaree thought, straightening the small rank insignia pinned to his lapel. Today, we clean out the ruffians. He made sure his officer’s hat was settled neatly atop his slightly square head. The constant fiddling with his uniform may have seen like nervous fidgeting to others, but for the Imperial Propaganda Speaker, they were a sort of good luck ritual, carefully rehearsed each time the countdown to realspace fell below one minute.

“Thirty seconds, sir,” his lieutenant said from her seat at one of the bridge’s many communication panels.

Shivaree adjusted his collar. He straightened his back, and leaned ever so slightly forward to place his hands on the railing before him. The blue and white swirling of hyperspace mesmorized him. For a few fleeting moments, a calm enveloped him.

“Dropping now, Captain.”

He felt the drop out of hyperspace more than anything else. The pit of his stomach shifted in his core. His body weight wanted to go forward for a heartbeat as the blue vanished as if to his imagination. The white-speckled black of space greeted him, vividly punctuated by Bogden’s great, round expanse in the distance. Kohlma, one of the world’s innumerable moons, waited much closer to the fleet. And there, hanging in Kohlma’s orbit, was the Bogden Transithub Station.

It was massive — a surprisingly monolithic structure for this unwashed, backwater planet. Shivaree dismissed it as a lucky result of location; Bogden, a world with little other redeeming qualities, sat squarely on the Hydian Way. The transithub station was a key facilitator of trade in this sector, and so the Sith Empire would claim it.

New arrivals briefly interrupted Shivaree’s view as a trio of Anemoi-class anti-fighter frigates dropped out of hyperspace. They fell into formation around Shivaree’s flagship, the Inavere-class Battlecruiser Inquisitor.

“Sir,” Lieutenant Fosfor said, “Transithub is hailing us. They’re asking why we’re here. Shall I put them through?”

“No, Lieutenant,” Shivaree said. “Launch the strike craft and landing ships. They’ll understand our reasoning soon enough.”

---

“I just don’t like this place,” Tsubasa muttered as he turned the corner. Frustration masked the Epicanthix’s face as he walked through the sprawling station, feeling about as loss as he was agitated. Of course, he only had himself to blame for being here. He didn’t have to stop at the Transithub station to refuel, but he’d figured it was better to get it out of the way sooner rather than later.

Then again, he also hadn’t expected three idiots with more bravado than brains to decide attacking the lightly armor, very armed man with a dragon droid on his shoulder.

They’d learned their lesson, and the security forces that arrived — too late to be of any real use, mind you — at the scene of the scuffle promptly decided that Tsu was more than justified in breaking a few limbs to defend himself from some wanted thugs.

“I am sorry, Tsubasa,” Ifrit said from his shoulder perch, and for not the first time today, Tsubasa wondered if the droid was mocking him. “But you cannot dwell on what’s already happened. That’s what you always say, right?”

“I can dwell on whatever I want to, Ifrit,” Tsu muttered under his breath. His aggravation stirred all the more for knowing that he was being lectured — correctly — by a droid.

Tsu huffed along down one corridor, and turned into another that led to one of several spacious plazas scattered throughout the station. People swarmed throughout. The roar of life pressed against his senses, but Tsubasa got used to it after a while on the station. He walked around, searching for a peaceful pocket in the crowd or even a place to sit, as he tried to calm his nerves.

Eventually he found a place on the lip of a fountain the middle of the plaza and sat with a sigh. He put his head in his hands and drew deeply on the Force, breathing in as he did. He held the breath for a long, long moment before breathing out, though he didn’t relinquish his hold on the Force.

“You were right,” he said quietly to Ifrit. The droid perked up at that—not enough to be overly ostentatious but enough to be sure Tsubasa noticed it. “Maybe I should just go wait on the ship while it’s fueling. Do some exerci… ses…”

Tsubasa’s voice trailed off as something felt suddenly wrong. A darkness grew in the Force, like billowing stormclouds on the far horizon. He withdrew from the Force somewhat, recoiling from the toxicity as he looked around in sudden panic. No one in the plaza stood out as a threat, but something made his stomach twist and turn.

He slowly stood, still looking around for the source of trouble. “Something’s wrong…”

That was when the alarms started blaring.

[Blue]

Larkin tried his best to block out the noise. It thundered on throughout his whole body, sending vibrations into his very bone marrow. The sirens, blaring out their declaration of the pending death and destruction, would not be silenced until they were upon the station. The soldiers' feet, pounding down onto the metal floors as they made haste to their stations, would not cease until they had all settled into their seats, ready for the inevitable launching of the strike craft.

Even the Force was reverberating its own little noise; a faint but undeniable high pitched and uninterrupted screech. Larkin could practically taste it, seeping through and tainting the very air. They were going unto death, both their own and their enemy's. The young Sith shivered.

It had been some time since he had last been among... others. He had been trained for so long in isolation, away from the crowds that infested the galaxy, that he had almost forgotten that they existed. Larkin, his back to a corner, observed those that had chosen or had been maneuvered into the same craft as himself.

Most of them where soldiers, trained to kill. Weak. Even he would be able to kill them all. They were there to perish, to feed those struggling alongside them on the Great Chain so that they might ascend higher. Little fish, little fish. Consuming them would not gain him anything. They were too low on the Chain. Two others, though... they were not little fish. A Zabrak. And a... creature of some sort.

A change in tone in the sirens, a sudden lurch. Beneath the helmet's visor, Larkin's eyes widened, a breath raggedly inhaled in something approaching anticipation. That old fear shot through him, seeping into his flesh, into his diseased spirit, fueling him. It was happening now. They were going onto this station. They were tasked with fighting a number of dangerous foes.

Death hung above, licking it's lips.

Eyes rolling in his skull, limbs shaking, Larkin's tongue copied the motion.

The Chain. He had to climb the Chain. So many things out there could take him, cast him down. He needed to climb higher.

Fear was aboard that craft. He would consume them.

He had to Climb The Chain.

[CaptainBonkers]

Garrick wasn't a fan of space stations. It was the recycled air that got to him. The stale air mixed with all the odors created by living, breathing creatures created an unpleasant atmosphere that only few stations could successfully scrub to tolerable levels. Most of the stations in that category were wealthy commercial stations orbiting important planets. This thing didn't exactly fit that bill.


Normally Garrick wouldn't have spent too much time on a backwater station like this but circumstances had forced his hand. Repairs to hyperdrive usually took time. Incidentally, Garrick was going to kill Fudra the next time he saw the guy. The blasted Rodian had apparently decided to cut couple of corners while upgrading the Songbird's hyperdrive. Sure it was a class 4 drive like promised but, as Serra put it, some of the wiring might as well have been made of cheese. Fortunately his engineer said it would be an easy, but time consuming, fix but Garrick was still angry. What if the wiring had failed while in the hyperspace instead of when they had tried to jump into hyperspace? There was a fair chance the Songbird and her crew would have been torn to shreds by the sudden stop.

Fortunately the wiring had failed attempting a jump off this system, so now Garrick and his crew were only stuck on this station until Serra could finish the repairs on the hyperdrive. It beat being dead but the margin was pretty slim. At least the only real problem for the time being was boredom. Fortunately it was a problem easily solved with a wallet and a cantina. There, Garrick figured, he could either find someone willing to lose to him in a game of cards or, barring that, get paralytic and do something or someone he would later regret.

Currently he was strolling around the commercial district of the station, looking for a place to put his plans in motion. So far he hadn't seen a place that looked right but he wasn't disheartened. There was always a place on station like this where a guy like Garrick could find gambling and/or company. All he had to do was look carefully. For all he knew the dive he was looking for would be just around the next corner.

His search was interrupted when the alarm started blaring. What now? He wasn't familiar with the local protocol, so the alarm might have been anything from 'fire' to 'it's the cops, scram!'. Then his comm began beeping.

"You calling me seconds from alarm isn't usually a good sign, Cookie. I take it's station wide." he said after answering.

"Yup." came Vinya's curt reply. "We picked up a hyperspace exit signature, followed by Imp comm. chatter. A lot of it. My guess is that they're heading this way with force."

Garrick cursed loudly. "And we can't get off the station."

"Well, we can but without hyperdrive we aren't going anywhere outside this system."

"Kinda what I meant. Okay you and the others keep your head down there and work on the repairs. I'll keep my eyes open out here, try to figure out what's going on exactly." Garrick didn't like the idea of getting stuck on a station that was about to be at the receiving end of an Imperial takeover but it wasn't like he had any options. Right now the best he could do was try to keep his eyes open and figure which way the wind was blowing and then figure out how to proceed.

[Apillis]

Since escaping from being a hutt's prison and control, Averia took to the stars. She may as well had simply been another wayfarer. The Strata had no ship, barely a credit to her name. Best she could after her escape was simply be a drifter. She had no means of returning to Aiaru quite yet, and returning to Laitra space was out of the question. Thereby left with little other options, she took to hopping on one ship to another working as a mechanic or simple extra pair of hands aboard whatever ship would take her. But such a humble situation was fine--in fact many Wardens of the Sky like herself wandered the galaxy through exactly the same means.

Eventually her travels lead to a space station orbiting Bogden. As she wandered the station, mostly for the sake of just getting out and about to do something to preoccupy her mind from the countless issues of figuring out how to get out of her current predicament. Walking amongst the sea of people in the station's plaza, she could simply lose herself in just letting go and falling back into the Force itself as if it were an ocean, and she merely fell back resting on its surface letting its currants take away.

But she stopped in her paces, she felt something was off... of--where she was reveling within the Force as though it were a lovely day out on the ocean--now it felt like dark clouds were eclipsing the sun and the tides were becoming harsh. Letting her perceptions get pulled along the Force's currants, she turned in the direction where she the ever unmistakable sense of danger. An accompanying sense from within herself--whether it be an unconscious reaction driven by her moral code or merely reacting entirely without any thought to what she was doing, Averia following her perceptions begun sprinting toward she where felt the danger was coming from the strongest there in the plaza--as if to try to do something to prevent or help or something--she still had no idea what or what may even happen, she was merely reacting more than thinking. It was then the sirens and alarms begun blaring throughout the station.

Running at full speed practically flew by passersby, even using a fountain as a platform to leap over several, including an Epicanthix and his odd little droid, leaping over both and landing several meters ahead of them. Averia continued to shove and knock over people who were in her way yelling at them to either get of her pathway or to run away and get out of there. Even though the reality was she had no idea what the hell she was talking about, for she had no clue what the danger was that she perceived--she could just as easily be running straight to her own death...

[Jounin]

(Note: I am writing in 3rd person, but Vartuk also speaks in 3rd person. Just to clear any confusion.)

It happened so fast, once again Vartuk's sense of justice got the better of him. He never had many interactions with imperials, and this one didn't give him a good impression. The imperial was oppressing a poor alien and stealing from her, so Vartuk used the force and threw him across the hanger.

Harboring an eye for an eye attitude, Vartuk stole the imperial's ship and began to flee before he could take it back. After hours of flying, he found himself in Bogden's orbit. Thinking that he's fled far enough, Vartuk decided to dock at the nearby station.

Now Vartuk finds himself sitting at a cantina, disgusted with what he sees. "Filth, all these creatures are filth...Vartuk never should've docked here, but now Vartuk is obligated to clean up this filth." His irritated mumbling gets cut off, when he senses two other strong force users on the station.

Curious, he follows them towards the plaza, but then a different a darker presence consumes his sense. Never having met a sith, Vartuk has no idea on what this aura is. Before he could react to it, sirens start to blare. People start stampeding, and instinctively Vartuk draws his lightsaber, standing there, preparing for any trouble that comes his way.

[Foxfire]

From the time he got the order of the mission Cho had not spoken he had with drawn into himself. The others on the ship had stayed clear of him and he didn't mind it. Within the time he had sought out the mission plans and the layout of the station. He had been mindful of getting a battle suit that was space worthy if the other side tried to suck him out an air hatch.

The force hummed around him but he restrained his signature to be fully hidden within the force. With the numbers of sith aboard the ship any force user could feel them coming so it was better Cho thought to at least hide the numbers. The mission was singular in nature they either surrender or they die. Either way was fine for Wroth in the end those that didn't flow with the force was be trodden down.

In his lap sat his two sabers he slowly caressed them this was the only thing beside the suit that he brought. An old habit of letting the enemy provide the weapons came back to him as other noghri of the past had known of. The battle would provide chances of the perfect kill, though to complete the mission he would and might have to forgo the type of kill he would get and put more focus on the end. Closing his eyes once again he meditated as the neared the space station.

[lion]

"You speak-words at me like that?! Well, at least my mom-lady doesn't suck hot-trash-filth Ugor tentacle!"

Despite the high pitch, almost squeak-like quality to the voice, there was no mistaking the sense of anger that belied the words, as the crack of shattering glass rebounded from the steel walls of the station. Standing but barely upright on his short, booted little feet, stood the source of the voice; the fury ebbing from the unbalanced Squib palatable in the air as klaxons wailed, bitterness written across his azure-furred, pointed face more.

They backed out.

It's not fair! Rex could hear himself think, or as close to think, as he swayed against the dead air of the space station. All he could see was the back of the human who had turned on him, left without so much as a single credit changing hands, with everything else bleeding away into the blackness of tunnel vision. Space, didn't matter; the shrieking of sirens against his ears faded away into the nothing much like the vastness of the void did, none of it mattered when profits could just wander off.

How? How could they just leave like that? To bargain and not buy anything? It hadn't been the first time in recent memory that Rex could remember being refused, but this? Two times in a row was hardly conducive to business; practically an ill-omen, and surely the humans knew it. Maybe it was just a rough species of haggling, but deep down, the blue-furred little rodent knew better what was going on; optimism gave little joy in the matter.

No, it wasn't up to happy thoughts any more. Booze, booze was the only reliever the young Squib could think of; the numbing warmth of liquor already running through him held promise. Maybe a good drinking session could solve it; let the hairless big-tall humans sort out the whining alarm problem. The thought seemed valid enough, Rex could feel himself agree, and with the grace of the drunken merchant that he was, turned on his heels to begin his staggering journey through the station, back to the hangar.

After all, compared to losing out on a sale? Nothing else mattered; not even close.

[Rugs]

“First wave is away,” said Lt. Fosfor. She turned from her communication panel and brought her sea-blue eyes to bear on Shivaree. “Shall we launch the second?”

Shivaree didn’t respond. He leaned against the railing, eyes focused not on any of the Inquisitor’s countless displays, but rather force of steel-grey dots spreading through the vacuum away from the Inquisitor.The fighters and bombers zoomed ahead, racing to meet the station’s defenses before they could threaten the transports that lagged along behind them.

“No, not yet,” he said. He released the railing with a muted sigh and clasped his hands behind his back. “We’ll establish the first wave, then send in the second force.”

“Yes sir,” she said, turning back to her panel.

Some moments passed in silence aboard the bridge. These were the tense moments; the ones before violence would erupt. Before they’d spill blood into the black of space for the Empire’s glory...

“Sir, the station is still hailing us. Insistently.” Fosfor glanced over her shoulder. “They’re warning that they’ll open fire if we don’t respond immediately.”

“Strike craft in range, Captain,” another officer called out from Shivaree’s left.

He smiled. “Let’s not be rude to Transithub, then. Offer our response,” he said, turning to the officer. “Tell all craft to open fire.”

Two heartbeats passed. Red flashes abruptly streaked through void. A few long streaks of blue trailed across the chaos as bombers unloaded against the station’s suddenly-active defenses.

A turret exploded in a sunburst of brilliant orange in ode to the Empire’s glory.

---

Choas reigned aboard Transithub Station. People ran every which way, some shouting incoherently, while others screamed or babbled nonsense. Everything happened to the dismay of the overwhelmed station workers who valiantly tried to maintain order while they themselves wondered just what the Force was going on.

Tsubasa remained near the plaza fountain. A hand half-closed around the collapsed shaft of his wan-shen was the only outward sign of his concern, even as his mind wheeled frantically.

“Can you figure out anything from the comms, Ifrit?”

“No,” the droid said, in a rare flat tone. “Not without connecting directly to the station’s secure systems.” Ifrit paused, head askance as his holographic wings shuffled over his back. “I do not think station security would appreciate that, given the current circumstances.”

“Fair enough,” Tsubasa said.

The Force surged nearby, though it was hard to tell from where with disorder dampening his senses so. A sudden flash of pink hair though, as a woman went vaulting over him, jogged something in his memory.

“Wait…” he said after a few moments starting dumbly after her. “Wait, I know you!” he called. “What the hell is going o-“

The floor shook violently as a boom shook the ceiling above them. The lights flickered and fingers of dust drifted down around him. Tsubasa lost track of the pink-haired woman as he paused to help a child and her older brother to their feet.

“Alert,” the station’s computerized warning system blared over the sirens, “Transithub Station is under attack. Please withdraw to the innermost levels. Alert. Alert. Transithub Station is under attack…”

Another explosion, this one more distant, rocked the station again. The plaza had largely cleared out now, save for a few brave souls who curiously — probably foolishly — remained. Tsubasa swore he could hear laser fire if he strained enough. The approaching darkness in the Force did nothing to settle his stomach.

“Got a bad feeling about this,” he said, more to give voice to his concern than strike up a conversation with those around him.

Something thudded loudly against the hull. Four softer sounds followed, then a loud whirring. Tsu furrowed his brow, even as every sense in his body told him to run.

“A really bad feeling…” He glanced down the hall, thinking that running after the pink-haired woman might not be such a bad idea.

An angry red circle started to glow on the wall as something, he realized, was cutting through from the outside.

[CaptainBonkers]

Garrick was quickly running out of Basic expletives. If things continued to deteriorate like this he was going to have to switch to Mando'a. This was so not how he had envisioned this day going. He was so going to kill Fudra and it would be very slow and inventive and..and frak. Few stray blaster bolts scorched the scenery around him as he tried to keep up with the retreating population. Well when he said 'retreating' he meant 'running in the same direction'. There was no organization to the chaos swirling around Garrick at the moment.

As he hurried to keep up with the crowd, Garrick couldn't help but to thank his good fortune that he had decided to take Eileen with him when he left the ship. Having more firepower at his disposal than a small blaster pistol was comforting. Eileen's custom properties were sure to become handy soon even though Garrick still hoped he might manage to escape the station without having to shoot anyone. He didn't exactly relish the idea of shooting Imperial soldiers. Not because he particularly liked them but because it was going to make things so damn awkward the next time he tried to sell some intel to Imps. They weren't the forgiving sort.

The worst part in this general rout to the inner parts of the station was that it essentially cut him off of his ship and crew. The first thing the Imps would do after securing a foothold would be securing the hangars. Unless there was something stopping them from doing that. Thank goodness the Imps had not messed up communications yet he thought as he snatched his comm. from his belt.

"Cookie, I'm not gonna make it there in  a while so you and others better make some preparations. We're gonna pull a Sullust Shuffle."

There was a momentary pause before Vinya replied with a hint of hesitation in her voice. "You sure about that boss? The prep work is pretty easy but the take off is always tricky."

"I know but it's the only way to make sure that Imps won't impound Songbird and lock you up." Or line you up against the wall with a blindfold, Garrick added mentally. He got a feeling that the Empire wasn't feeling like taking prisoners right now. After all, why would they bother. It wasn't like a transithub station at the ass end of nowhere being massacred was going to rile off any important neutral forces in the Galaxy. A hutt or two might be annoyed but not enough to get them to pull together and go to war.

"Look, just do as I ask and continue on those repairs. I'll contact you when I can. If you don't hear from me in a couple of hours, well, assume worst." he finished with a slightly false cheeriness in his tone. 

"Will do, Vinya out." Garrick stuffed the comm. away and shook his head. Truth be told he wasn't sure what the heck he was doing but improvisation had saved his life plenty of times before. Here was hoping that his luck wasn't going to run out just yet. At least he didn't have to worry about his crew getting into the line of fire. There was no way the Imps were going to enter a depressurized docking bay while actively engaged with the local resistance. 

[Jounin]

The pain...the pain searing through Vartuk's head only increases. The gand's force senses are getting ravaged by this presence. If something this dark resides in the galaxy, then  in Vartuk's head, he must be the one to stop it.

Trying to sift through the darkness in his mind, the gand struggles to sense the location of the force users prior to the alarm. After a minute of fruitless searching he's able to pick up one on the move. Vartuk pinpoints a woman running along with the mob. Ready to make his move, his train of thought suddenly gets interrupted.

"Die scum!" A ruffian yells at him. At this point the mob diverged around the lightsaber weilding alien. This man must have thought that Vartuk is one of the attackers. "Vartuk has no time for you!" The gand yells as he throws the criminal into the crowd before he could even draw his blaster.

Already having the girl's sense, it wasn't hard to pick it back up. Estimating her speed and his jump power, Vartuk launches himself directly infront of the female force user. "Halt! State your name and rank so Vartuk knows how to address you!"

[Blue]

There was no way to really tell what was happening outside the craft he was on; where he was, there was no window revealing the great empty blackness that was space. There was the occasional change in momentum every so often, but other than that, things were no different than they were back on the ship. Larkin held onto that thought. The reality that he was being hurtled through the void towards a large can of people that wanted to kill him was not calming.

Then again, being calm gave him nothing. His master had shown him that. The faux philosophies that the Jedi claimed they drew their powers from, gained through so-called inner-peace, was insignificant compared to the strength of fear. And fear was thundering through his veins right now: his teeth chattered, his skin prickled, his body vibrated with terror. And the silence! The silence! He would have almost preferred hearing the scream of shells, the screech of blaster bolts. The silence gave you nothing, no clue of where you where, what was happening.

Another rumble and the comms crackled to life, ordering them to prepare to storm out. The soldiers, most of whom where doing their best to inch away from the shaking Sith, got out of their seats, prepped their weapons and got into position. As the lasers began cutting into the station, Larkin stood, swaying on his feet. His was drunk on fear. As the laser sizzled away, he positioned himself behind one of the soldiers. Not a one of them argued. He turned his helmeted head towards the one next to him and saw a dead body, standing. He scanned the crowd; more standing dead men. He bit into his lip. He drew blood.

CLANK, CLUNK

The roar almost made him jump out of his skin as the soldiers charged past him, blasting away at the people ill-fated enough to have stood right in front of the new hole cut into their station. Larkin took a step forward. No, no, no, no. Another step. Remember the Chain! Do you want to be eaten? Climb. FIGHT. CONSUME!

He shuddered as he felt the shock go through him, like his body was being raked by a giant, wire brush. He raised a hand. One of the soldiers jerked back as some unseen forced pulled him. The soldier went down as a bolt struck him. Larkin's visored face swiveled towards where the blaster shot had come from. Without realising he was doing it, he unclipped the lightsaber from his belt. The sound of the blade igniting set his mind aflame.

Don't let them climb above you!

Larkin was upon the luckless fellow before he even knew what was happening, his feet landing squarely on the man's chest. The lightsaber stabbed down; death. The young Sith drew a ragged breath. Another bolt flashed towards him; the blade of red light came up and the bolt danced away. He shivered as fractured thoughts fought inside him.

kill them all-
don't let them cli-
help-
eat their sou-
what is hap-
They all have to die. Climb the Chain. CLIMB THE CHAIN!

[Foxfire]

Time seemed to slow as the sound of the cutters neared their starting point for the breach. He could also sense the other Sith near him his scent was one of disturbed emotions. Cho would have to step up and break the air for the other sith had buried themselves deep into the ship he had yet to see. So the main thrust of the attack would be his, not that he needed help.

Silence fell as the cutters stopped and the sith next to him jumped away and attacked those near the opening. Rising Cho moved to the hole opening his connection to the force just enough for dodging the blaster bolts which was aimed toward them. The smell of burning flesh was in the air as the other sith was quick in it's work. Cho did not let the smell shape what was going on through his mind. His eyes would not have saw the grenade being tossed their way. With a flick of his wrist the grenade was bounced back to it's origin.

A solider tossed a personal shield between the two groups as the explosion erupted. Cho watching the firestorm did not slow as he neared the shield the fire died for it had eaten the air on the other side. As Cho touched the shield it dropped and air gusted equalizing between the two areas. Wroth looked as he moved forward to see who was still alive and who needed to sped on to join the force. On near the T junction was unhurt but it was shaking so hard that it's shots never could find any mark. A snap hiss and a brummpth and the only solider fell two different directions.

Cho looked back at the carnage in the hall and roared orders for the main thrust to secure the hangers while three smaller groups to attack the life support and power systems. Checking the holo map he was given he looked for the direction to the coms and the main control center. As he saw the route needed he opened himself more to the force and scanned the area for any force users. Their were some but they were nowhere near him so closing back down the curtain upon his signature. The other sith was over shadowing his own signature so he didn't have to worry about other force users searching for him till it was to late. Moving on he turned to head up to the coms.

[Apillis]

Averia did not look back she just kept running toward the danger, she heard voices yell at her, even one was the voice of a man who said he knew her, "If you know me. Then help me.", was all she replied in a deadpan tone as she continued to run picking up the pace when she could see in the distance ahead of her the metal walls of the station being cut into. Faster and faster and faster her pace went, well beyond what even some of the most accomplished human sprinters could ever hope to achieve... and she was not even using the Force to do so. The peculiar sight of a Gand with a lightsaber trying to impede her path caused a brow to raise from her wooden visage, but like the man earlier, she did not stop for the little creature either; and instead flew by the diminutive alien as well. She felt it in the Force--she did not have time to indulge their demands and nonsense, even for a Force-Sensitive Gand who held such a unique trophy like a lightsaber.

But as the first of the Imperial soldier begun to step out of the maw they had cut open wide into the station's walls, that was when truly picked up the pace with her ally--the Force. What could be witnessed in that moment was someone with complete mastery over their physical being in the Force, pushing their body far passed what it was otherwise capable of, and in the case of Averia she channeled it all into one Force induced burst of speed at that first Imperial soldier stepping out into the open. He never really saw it coming, it all happened so fast--Averia was right there practically on top of him moving at a speed he had no hope ever reacting to--nevermind defend against. While moving at such an astounding pace, she simultaneously was unloading a Force empowered haymaker through her ability of Force Projection. When such a power struck the Imperial soldier's head hit helm and faceplate cracked and shattered almost as if it were glass while his head racked and rag-dolled as if he were just struck by a devastating blow from a wookiee wielding a sledgehammer.

The dead Imperial soldier's comrade to his right, Averia's left, begun turning his blaster rifle in her direction. As the fallen Imperial was falling to the cold metal floor of the station, Averia casually grabbed the hilt of his vibrosword, and his falling dead to the ground unsheathed the weapon for her. But simultaneously with her left hand she redirected soldier to her left's blaster rifle with a subtle telekinetic push just as he was squeezing the trigger to shoot her. But because of redirecting rifle telekinetic at his comrades to his own right incidentally causing friendly fire on his own allies. And without a seconds hesitation, she then ran through that soldier to her left with the blade taken from his first fallen comrade. Each action occurred within small fractions of a second, but for Averia with her expansive perceptions through the Force and astounding mastery of her own physical capabilities--they all may as well had been moving at a snail's pace.

However, in spite of her talent and abilities, there was something she recognized fully--she cannot keep such a thing up on her own.

Calling upon the power of the Force even further, great arching sparks of lightning begun conjuring into her left hand. The power of Levinkinesis she had learned as one of the Mythics, she laid her left hand upon the blade of the vibrosword, and used as makeshift lightning rod to continue conjuring greater bolts of lightning through the Force. By reaching out with her mind--she was not a very powerful telepathic but held enough to talent to touch another mind, especially if they were Force-Sensitive as well--the man who called out to her earlier given his stating that he knew her--she spoke through the Force, My name is Averia. I'm a Warden of the Sky. My charge is to protect people who roam the skies from tyranny and oppression such as the Sith. But I can't do this alone.... Help me. Even more so she drawing--channeling greater power from the Force via her ability within Levinkinesis--powerful bolts of lightning crashing and slamming into vibrosword... but for what purpose that had yet to be revealed...

[Rugs]

Tsubasas barely had time to think.

The crimson circle cut into the space station’s metal walls completed itself; surely others followed suit all along Transithub Station’s broad flank. The metal sizzled for two heartbeats, then fell with a heavy thunk that reverberated through the floor and into his bones.

“I don’t think that’s supposed to happen,” Ifrit remarked, head half-cocked. For once, Tsubasa lacked the energy to correct the droid.

For once, there wasn’t much of anything to correct.

“We need to move,” he said simply.

Then the Sith came flooding in. A flashbang announced their presence. Tsubasa avoided the grenade’s worst, as the Force sent him running away and diving to cover before it even landed on the polished metal floor. But even if the flash didn’t leave him blinded, he nearly swore an oath of vengeance then and there on the miserable soul who threw the thing and set his ears to ringing like a microphone left too close to a source of interference.

Blaster fire rang over the bench he’d ducked behind as what few straggling civilians remained scrambled for cover. Tsu took his wan-shen in hand as he shook his head to clear it, teeth gritted against the annoying sound as he fought to recapture his focus.

He could send Ifrit airborne to launch a fiery assault on them. It’d probably catch them off guard, but… no, not yet. The droid’s limited incendiary stock might be put to better use later. And I don’t want to set the place on fire….

Nor did he particularly feel like taking on an entire landing craft’s-worth of soliders on his own. Tsubasa was confident he could take down a few on his own, but without knowing for sure how many he faced.

“Hey, someone’s over there,” a filtered voice called. “Stand up! Show yourself!”

“So much for that,” Tsubasa grumbled under his breath. He stood, quietly drawing the Force into himself. A handful of Sith soldiers stared at him, anonymous behind their tinted visors, from the other side of the bench.

They pointed their rifles at him.

“Drop the weapon,” one said quickly, pointing toward Tsu’s extended polearm.

“What, this?” Tsubasa moved the wan-shen slightly. “Come on, fellas, it’s just a-“

“Drop it!” The rifles seemed to be pointing at him more now.

Tsubasa sighed. “Well, if I must…”

He seemed to lean slightly forward, to put the weapon on the bench. He gave a slight shrug of his right shoulder—a subtle, well-rehearsed motion to signal Ifrit to take flight.
Then he exploded forward. The Sith hardly had time to gasp in surprise before he was upon them, wan-shen flashing as he whirled and put them down. Some had their legs swept out. Others had theirs masks meet the blunt of his wan-shen with Force-assisted strength propelling it.

Nearly as soon as it began, it was over, here at least. Tsubasa could feel more Sith stirring in the boarding ship, though, and the distinct stink of the Dark Side in use further off in the station.

Yeah, it’s time to move.

He took off, running in the direction he’d seen the pink-haired woman go. If only he could remember her name….?

Alleria? Avena?

“My name is Averia.”

Oh, right. That’s what it was. Tsu nearly tripped over his own feet. Wait, what?

"I'm a Warden of the Sky. My charge is to protect people who roam the skies from tyranny and oppression such as the Sith. But I can't do this alone.... Help me."

He realized, in short order, that she’d reached out through the Force. A cry for help. So the Sith have found her too? As Tsubasa saw things, they weren’t going to be giving any of the folks aboard Transithub Station much in the way of mercy. And he never really was a Sith fan anyway.

Still, his telepathy skill was limited. He couldn’t speak directly back to her, but extended as much as he could, if only to give a impression he knew she’d feel—one that said, if nothing else, ‘I’m coming…’

He redoubled his efforts and sprinted through the station.

[Blue]

It would not stop.

Larkin sat atop of a dead body, head tilted down. His masked countenance gave no indication to the soldiers around him of what was passing through his mind. The sirens blared on, unending. Like a star seen from a planet's surface, it's piercing wail screeched out a warning, but they were all already dead. Dead, but still screaming. It would not stop.

The young Sith rocked backwards and forwards. The noise! It seemed like only moments ago that it was the silence that irked him, that clawed at his mind with the fear that lived inside him. He had wanted noise, but now... now! The sound of it all: the whine of blasters discharging, the pitiful whimpering of the mortally wounded, the cries for help, the begging QUIET PLEASE MAKE IT STOP! the crunching the breaking the bleeding the heartbeat PLEASE MAKE IT STOP! the heat the scratching the explosions-

A glint caught his eye, a few bodies further down the hallway his craft had cut into. One of the dead men had a bandolier of various grenades strap to his chest. A memory flashed into his mind; he had ran forward and a swift strike from a red light had caught him unawares, removing his head and leaving the payload of explosives undamaged.

Make it stop
"Make it stop."

"Sir?" The soldier nearest to the rocking Sith, against his better judgment, heard the boy say something odd and queried, unthinkingly, as to its meaning. The soldier took a short step back as the visored face snapped up at the sound of his voice. For a long moment the blank mask of the young Sith glared up at him. The soldier swallowed, cursing himself for calling attention. He glanced back at his comrades, only to see they had distanced themselves from him. No-one else had wanted to disturb the deranged creature; he was on his own.

The crazed young man was standing now, and was uncomfortably close. The soldier could see his own reflection in that damned mask's long visor.

"I'll make it stop," Larkin repeated, his whisper like voice tinted by a robotic-like undertone, making the sound of his voice scratch the eardrums of the listeners. He stalked forwards, passing the soldier (much to his relief). Kneeling beside the headless body, Larkin removed the string of explosive devices from the corpse and split them up. Keeping half to himself, he pushed the other half into the arms of one of the nearest man.

"Where is the core of this station?" Larkin asked, the robotic rasp making the whole squad uneasy. The sergeant pulled up a datapad and showed the young Sith. A moment of study and Larkin gestured the soldiers to follow him. Normally he would not want the little fish around him, but even someone as low down the Chain as himself could sense the presence of some powerful people nearby. Too high up the Chain for him. Fear shot through him again. The little fish could make a distraction if needed. He would end this; with or without them, but he would end this. They would all die. And the fear that threatened to eat him whole would subside back to its usual slow, constant gnawing once more.

"I'll make it all stop," the mad Sith muttered to himself as they moved out.

[Jounin]

She...she didn't stop? This Gand does not understand. Vartuk has earned enough respect to have a first name, Vartuk thought others force users would atleast respect this Gand's culture. That force user is no Jedi then, she must just be scum like the rest on this station. Vartuk's thoughts then got interrupted.

Another light beamed through the darkness. Vartuk detected the girl as an anomaly. She's trying to contact someone. The former findsman focused his energy into finding this other force user. Once he got a faint signal, Vartuk started following it, in hope that this one would be more reasonable.

On his way to the other force user, the Gand had elegantly dodged and weaved his way through the sea of fleeing fringers, only to be stopped by a severe pain. His head pulsed as he collapsed to his knees. Vartuk instinctively clenched his fists to endure the pain. "W-what power do the sith have?! It hurts so much!" Then the telltale sound of a light saber made him realize...a sith is right behind him.

All the Gand could manage to do at this point was scream for help within the rioting masses.   

[CaptainBonkers]

There was more shouting and screaming in the air than blasterfire or explosions meaning that there wasn't any organized fighting going on near him. Likely the imps firing indiscriminately at anyone that looked like they maybe possibly could be threat if you squinted and looked them from a funny angle while the local talent with guns took potshots at the invaders whenever they weren't falling over themselves to get away from the fighting.

Garrick was fairly sure he had made it outside the immediate danger zone. He could tell it from the fact that he was seeing less fleeing people and more of motley spacers putting up barricades. If you asked him, the barricades weren't probably going to do much to stop the imperial steamroller but with some luck it might slow them down for a second or two. None of the groups he'd seen so far were large enough to realistically put up a real fight. Plus they all seemed like they were made up of the dregs of the society which meant that although they usually had a superior fighting spirit (in most cases fueled by a whole lot of liquid courage) they weren't particularly disciplined. And unfortunately discipline was something you needed against the imp. Well, discipline or the element of surprise the size of small moon. 

He was still planning on finding a way back to his crew, but since that needed a way through the imperial assault going on down the hallway Garrick needed to take a breather to plan, maybe find the plans of this damn place. That purpose in mind he stopped to help out one of the groups he ran into to build a barricade. Their's looked a little bit more sturdier than others he had run into. Plus they were all big, burly and armed to the teeth which in Garrick's books was a definite advantage right now.  

[Blue]

In his mind's eye, Larkin could see it: Flowers blooming red, starved within seconds of life in the cold, dark void. Dead bodies float past, empty eyes wide with terror from the grip of death. And, at long last, the pure silence of nothing comes, granting his relief. It would be temporary relief, the young Sith understood this. But with this endless screeching, the eternal tuneless screaming of everything, a moment's reprieve was enough to motivate him to great lengths, to tackle almost any foe or challenge.

He just needed it to stop. Just a for a moment, a second, a tiny slice of time when it was not piercing his every atom with it's ceaseless cry. Please stop.

He was guiding the soldiers forward as best he could. He was no master, but his senses in the Force nails on a rock, bleeding fingertips where well tuned enough to pick out the strongest echoes. He pushed his ad hoc demolition squad away from those. Slide past them, do not make too many ripples, and they would not find him. Despite his efforts, they still came across the occasional lone person or straggling group; they died quickly to the blade and a few blaster shots. The Sith did not think that they spent more than a handful of minutes on the whole lot. Those that had not tried to flee the station were grouping up together, building barriers to impede further invasive attempts. Easier to hear them, smell them out, avoid.

They had gathered up a few more explosives. They had run into a second squad and had taken their demolitions expert with them, too. The man in charge had not denied the young Sith, simply ordering the soldier to go. He had seemed relieved that Larkin had not order him to go as well. Too many. Small group, much easier to slip by, quiet. I need to have the quiet..

Surprise. The station had not known what had hit them until they were on them, little metal locusts drowning them with blaster fire and sabers. For a moment, the thought of being an insect disorientated the young Sith. He wobbled. The screeching grew in intensity MAKE IT STOP I'LL MAKE IT and he ground his teeth to distract himself. He came back. The soldiers had encircled him, a perimeter, pointing their weapons outward. The sergeant came forward.

"We're here, sir. There are some men and women inside; some are armed, but they seem to be civilian workers who took refuge in the core to avoid the fighting. What are your orders?"

Larkin's featureless mask stared at the man for a moment. The Sith swallowed, shivering. No noise. They make noise and they'll draw in the bigger fish.

"Check for other entrances. Encircle them, block them in. No escapees. Kill them all. Kill them all." Larkin breathing constricted in his chest. He gripped his lightsaber tighter. "Kill them all. Plant the explosives. Short timer. We leave."

The sergeant took charge after that, ordering his men into position to ensure that no-one could escape. Under his mask, Larkin's eyes rolled in their sockets. They would scream. They always scream. But it would stop. This will make it stop. It had to make it stop. They would all scream as one, but then it would be quiet at last. For a little while. Just a little while. That is all he asked. His body stalked forwards, silent loping strides towards the scent of fear.

The first was pulled back, and impaled on his lightsaber. Nerveless fingers dropped the antiquated blaster rifle. Someone screamed. Larkin screeched back at them. Some tried to run. They died to the blaster fire of the soldiers, coming from the only other exit. The men behind the Sith readied their weapons, ready to kill any that tried to flank young man or slip past him. Larkin kept screeeeeaaaammmmminnnnng...

It was over quick. The soldiers searched the area to ensure nobody was hiding or playing dead. A few more blaster shots. The sergeant ordered his men to start planting the explosives while also setting sentries at the exits, steering well clear of the quivering Sith who was kneeling down, rocking back and forth.

Quiet soon. Quiet soon. Quiet soon. Quiet soon...

[Rugs]

Tsubasa’s communicative efforts proved unsuccessful. The chaos embroiling the station made concentration difficult, and perhaps weakened his ability to reach out to the mind of another. Or maybe all the fear and panic and rage swirling like an enraged sea drowned out his modest-at-best ability.

Whatever the reason, the pink-haired woman didn’t respond. Tsubasa would have to continue on, without her aid.

“Can’t be easy,” he muttered with a sigh. As he took stock of his surroundings. The station still thumped occasionally; it was hard to tell at this point whether that was the battle raging outside or within its bowels. People still screamed and fled from the distant echo of blaster fire.

In some places, people were beginning to put up barricades; setting up blockades to use as places to mount a resistance to the Sith.

There’s no way, Tsu thought as he passed them. There’s no way they can stop this. They have to run or they’ll be killed.

Yet even escape wasn’t guaranteed with the Sith fleet waiting outside…

Tsu’s thoughts cut short as the sound of a lightsaber abruptly seared through the air before him. Through the crowds, he could see a Sith, back turned and red blade in hand, standing over a kneeling figure.

A scream reached his ears. Horror washed against him senses as the blade rose into the air.

He’s gonna kill them. Tsu’s stomach clenched. His grip on his wan-shen tightened.

He burst forward, Force surging into his body as Ifrit took to the air again. The red blade paused over the kneeling figure. Tsu reached the unwary Sith as the blade began to fall crashing the weighted end of his polearm into the warrior’s ribs.

He felt a crunch as the Sith gasped from impact. The weapon fell, blade blinking away as the hilt clattered onto the floor. The Sith crumpled, hands clutching at his ribs as he howled at Tsubasa. With one hand he grasped for the weapon, but the Matukai gave him no chance. A downward stab of his wan-shen’s blade into the fellow’s gut neutralized him.

“What a waste of life,” he growled. But there weren’t many good alternatives at this point.

With the Sith taken care of, Tsubasa leaned down near the kneeling figure. “Come on,” he said. “Can’t stay put too long. Can you move?”

At that point, the station’s unending siren changed. The shrill, looping alarm with the robotic voice warning people to retreat became a loud, full-throated panic of a klaxon.

“Alert: Station Core compromised,” the voice said now, emphatically. “Alert: Station Core compromised…”

Tsubasa swore. Have they made it that far? What are they going to do?

The pit of his stomach clenched more. He did not know everything happening on the station. He could not know. But he did know that the Force and its whisperings—from what he could make out over the general chaos that clouded everything—felt very, very bad.

“We have to do something,” he said, quietly at first. The station rocked again from some distant explosion. “We have to do something,” he said again, louder this time, looking at the people around him. Not all could fight. But some could. Perhaps the group at the far end of the hall, heavily armed and building a barricade.

Tsu’s voice sounded pleading as he spoke again, but he didn’t care.

“We’ve got to stop them or they’ll kill us all.”