This is the Run-on submission for Team Charlie of Clan Plagueis in the GJW XI.
Team members are:
Misium #14017
Furios Morega #11513
Tra’an Reith di Plagia #9059
Arturis Schulen #6643
Rules for the event can be found [here][1].
Edit by Mav: Moved to proper Category.
[1]: Great Jedi War XI - Run On Details
Korriban
Esstran Sector
Horuset System
38 ABY
The Low Altitude Assault Transport thrummed through the cool grey skies of Korriban’s morning, rushing north to the Valley of the Dark Lords. Aboard the enclosed shuttle stood three men, all hooded and cloaked, and a Kushiban. Misium, Tra’an Reith di Plagia, and Furios Morega stood upright, gripping the handles hanging from the canopy of the ship while the diminutive Arturis Schulen steadied himself without a grip, flicking his light brown tail back and forth for balance. The four Plagueians were silent beneath the sounds of the machine, focusing their thoughts on the battle ahead. Barely audible over this hum, the rumbles of battle rolled steadily louder as they approached their destination. The pilot’s voice over the LAAT’s communication array broke the silence.
“Commanders,” the voice addressed. “We are approaching missile range at the Valley of the Dark Lords. Any Anti-Aircraft batteries surrounding the valley will be able to attack.”
“Stay on course,” Tra’an commanded. “Prepare to take evasive action as necessary.”
With his free hand, Misium pressed the controls opening the hatches on the transport. A motor clicked and whirred as the Durasteel panel shifted out of the chassis and along its back end. The engine’s hums were immediately engulfed in the sound of the roaring wind around them. Dust, sand, rocks, and broken monuments scattered the planet’s surface below. On the horizon, smoke, explosions, and laser fire peppered an area that could only be the Valley. The shuttle was close when the first AA shots fired toward them. Without warning the vehicle lurched to avoid Loyalist artillery fire. Misium quickly placed his other hand on the railing to steady himself while Furios squared his stance to accomplish the same. Tra’an appeared unaffected. Unlike his companions, Arturis was launched from the floor of the shuttle. With a sharp squeak the small Krath grabbed the first thing he could to avoid falling from the LAAT, Tra’an’s cloak. The Exarch grabbed the lagomorph and returned him to the floor as their transport straightened out. Grumbling under his breath, he grabbed a handle near the open hatch. Furios frowned. The Archpriest was small, even for a Kushiban.
“Find us a landing point now!” Tra’an shouted toward the front of the shuttle.
“Yes sir,” the pilot replied as he evaded more AA fire. They straightened out again when an alarm sounded from the front of the transport. “Concussion missiles on our left, commander.”
A fighter could be seen in the distance to the northwest and two missiles screamed from it, flying at high velocity toward the shuttle. Misium freed his right hand and focused on one of the missiles. A small bolt of electricity shot through the air and struck its target, detonating it. The Knight became light-headed for a moment from the exertion. He took aim at the remaining missile but the bolt formed and then dissipated. He gasped as he lost his concentration.
“Turn the ship to the right!” Furios yelled to the pilot. “Do it now!”
The LAAT lurched as the pilot pulled the starboard engines into reverse. As the transport rotated in the air, the two Obelisk moved to the back of the shuttle but the worn Knight hesitated. Without skipping a beat, the Epicanthix grabbed him by the arm and yanked him backward, just as the concussion missile flew in one side of the transport and out the other. It was then that the timer on the missile ended and the warhead detonated. The shockwave of the blast knocked the transport off its trajectory, tipping it over. The engines on the right side sputtered out from the disruption causing the shuttle to spin out. For a moment the power from the portside engines caused it to spin out. The pilot’s trained reflexes kicked in and he pulled the portside engines into reverse with just enough power to straighten out the vehicle. Billowing smoke, it fell toward the ground. Emergency protocols shut the left hatch but the right one remained open, still unresponsive from the concussion missile. Tra’an grabbed the open hangar door by the handle and lurched forward, thrusting with his hand and arm. The door clicked shut just before another blast rocked the LAAT, this time from the left. The remaining engines went dead and the transport plummeted.
“Brace yourselves!” Reith yelled.
The ship billowed smoke from various places as it fell. It struck the ground hard, jolting everyone inside, and skidded through the dirt. It struck a large rock, flipping it onto its right side, crushing the wing in the process. Red light flooded the sealed hangar as the Obelisk picked themselves up and examined their teammates. The two of them were definitely sore and bruised in several places. Misium clutched his shoulder, his face wrinkled in pain. Beneath his simple garb, Furios could see that the arm was dislocated from its socket. The Sith sat up and scowled at the Equites standing over him.
“Sit still,” the Aedile said. He gripped the limb at the bicep and shoved the ball back into its socket. Misium gasped in pain and arched his back before slumping against the floor of the transport. Tra’an took a step toward the back of the shuttle and crouched down to lift an unconscious Arturis by the scruff of his furry neck.
“He appears to still be alive.” The Shi’ido said.
The Epicanthix looked at him for a moment and raised an eyebrow. “So?”
“Why should we care about him if he’s unconscious?” Misium asked coldly.
The Exarch sighed and flopped the Kushiban over his shoulder. Furios shrugged and reached up to press the control to open the LAAT’s topside hatch but nothing happened. He pressed it a couple of more times for good measure but there was still no response. He frowned and then pulled out his lightsaber. Activating the cerulean blade, he plunged it into the floor of the shuttle. The metal hissed as it melted around the blade. Soon a large hole was cut through the LAAT and the three Plagueians stepped into the dry air of Korriban. The Shi’ido went to check on the crew while the others examined their surroundings. One of the gunners had been killed by the second missile, another broke his neck when the transport hit the ground, and the last was crushed beneath the side of the transport. The pilot was unconscious, and the co-pilot was alive but shaken and concussed. The di Plagia pulled the living from the wreckage and situated them with a med kit. He then crouched, set Arturis on the ground, and hovered a hand over his small head, closing his eyes in concentration.
“The speeder bikes are gone,” Misium stated simply, examining the rear of the transport.
“We must have lost them a while back,” Furios replied. “That’s alright though. It’s just under two kilometers to the Valley, hardly even a problem.”
“Then we’d better get moving,” Tra’an said. Arturis was awake but also dizzy so was perched on the shape shifter’s shoulder.
The group left the transport and pilots behind as they marched along the dusty paths of Korriban. The canyon walls slowly began to close in around them as they got closer and closer to the valley. The sounds of battle continued rumbling from the distance, steadily getting louder and more frequent.
The terrain vanished swiftly beneath them as they hastened towards their objective. Each step brought them closer to the conflict, and Arturis back to full awareness. The Kushiban had finally cleared his sensitive ears of the ringing from the near concussion that he had suffered in the landing, his healing ability fixing the damage done. The rocky terrain seemed to be darker, the air slightly fouler, and the light slightly dimmer as they approached the entrance to the Valley of Dark Lords.
Without warning, Arturis reached out and grabbed a paw full of Tra’an’s hair, bringing him to a halt. Ears turning every which way, they seemed to indicate that just on the other side of the rising terrain, were noises of interest. Giving hand signals, the Shi’ido moved to creep up the slope, the others following. As the moved slowly, minimizing the scree sliding away from them, their near silent approach let them make more sense of the sounds which had been almost indistinguishable from random noise before.
“… no, you cannot buy these speeder bikes. Just because I have more than one doesn’t mean that I don’t need them.” said a reasonably tall figure with a grey cloak. Three of the One Sith grunts, two of whom were damaged, were garbed as if out on patrol, stood before him.
“You have more than what you need. You will surrender them to use, or we will take them by force!” shouted a rather larger than normal Gamorrean, his flesh embedded with tattoo and scars, as if he’d been experimented on by his masters. The other two, a mangled Wookie and a blood covered Nagai stood far enough back to be safely out of range of whatever encounter was about to happen.
“Just because your entire patrol was destroyed by a Krath Pontifex, does not mean that I have to make your life easier. I suggest that you and your remnants be on your way, before I finish the Krath’s work.” The strange figure stepped back, hand straying to the side of his belt, inside his cloak.
The ugly alien didn’t seem to realize that someone like this stranger being aggressive towards him was unusual, as he unlimbered his arg’garok from the holster on his back, the head of it thrumming to life as the meaty hands hefted it easily.
“Last chance Human. Surrender the speeders or die!” shouted the Gamorrean.
The response was as disappointing as it was sudden.
“You will not need that. You will turn and walk away and take your men with you.” The tone of voice changed and Tra’an felt the Force swirl around the three of the patrol members. Without another word, they turned and walked away, as if nothing had happened.
All together, they looked at each other, hand signals sending Furios and Misium around to the right and left, each waiting to crest the rise until Arturis did so, the three of them, appearing at the same time.
The self-satisfied smirk on the face of the Human died as he turned back to his speeder bikes and saw them approaching, smart enough to realize that this was a different breed of threat, one that would have him facing a far harder task of turning them away.
“Connor Grey,” came Arturis’ voice, barely carrying over the wind, “you will find that we are not so easily turned away and dissuaded. We require your assistance, rather than simply taking the bikes from you. Will you aide us without conflict?” As the Kushiban finished speaking, he and the other two Dark Jedi had come to stop several feet back from the Jedi, aware that he had been listed as neutral/potential threat in their briefing.
“Why should I help you? What’s in it for me?” the Jedi replied, his lips licking themselves in contemplation.
“What is in it for you, is the chance at power and some artifacts. If you help us, you can come along as we return to our Lord Esoteric. We’ll be raiding an auction house along the way, and you might help yourself to whatever we don’t need.” said Furios. “You provide us the means of getting there, and we’ll provide you access without having to skulk. Interested?”
Connor looked them over, before sealing his lips shut and taking a bow. Moving forward, his eyes locked on Furios, he reached out his hand and shook Furios’ extended hand in return. Smiling, as he turned to them all, he reached out with the Force and bent it to his will.
“There’ll be no need for you to go. Just tell me where and who and I’ll do it for you!” Connor said calmly, impressing upon them his will.
“I don’t think that’s right…” said Furios before he was interrupted by Connor.
“Come on. You guys deserve a break, just tell me where and who and I’ll do it for you. I’ll even bring what you’re looking for back here to you!”
Just as Furios opened his mouth to spill the secrets, Tra’an vaulted over the lip of the slope and fired his disruptor pistol at Connor. The bolt impacted against the quickly established barrier and dissipated, taking the barrier with it, and shattering the hold on his compatriots.
“That’s enough of that nonsense. Try to alter their minds again, and I’ll show you why you never advanced further as a Jedi, Grey. Your choices now are to come with us as before, or die here, knowing that your mouth once again got you into trouble you couldn’t get out of.” Tra’an shouted as he came closer, eyes locked on the Human.
Disruptor pistol in hand, Tra’an stopped at a double stride’s length from his potential ally, bead drawn on the man’s chest. As Furios pushed clear to stand aside, Connor acted, throwing him into the line of Fire and then pushing him with a barrier, accelerating him as if thrown. Tra’an ducked tucked and rolled aside, firing directly into and dissipating a third of the projections, projecting his own will as a direct physical strike against Connor’s right foot, breaking it as if it had been crushed beneath a warhammer.
The scream of agony as his foot was destroyed, was as a soothing balm upon those assembled. Tra’an smiled as he closed upon Connor Grey.
“Some things, you just can’t talk your way out of. We’ll be taking your supplies. Good luck.” As he moved to strike Connor upon the temple, the Jedi activated his Lightsaber in a horizontal slice at thigh level, forcing Tra’an to jump backwards, his own Lightsaber sizzling to life. At the same time, Furios and Misium activated their own lightsabers and closed in upon the Jedi together.
“I do believe he was going to let you live,” said Furios. “But perhaps, some people are better off dead.”
“All people are better off dead,” Misium spat as he swung his lightsaber at Connor with a look of disgust.
Grey let loose a blinding flash in a last ditch effort to escape his imminent fate, effectively stopping the Dark Jedi Knight’s attack; however, thanks to precognition, all 4 of the Plagueians were able to close and avert their eyes in time to avoid its effects. The injured Battlemaster took the opportunity to swing his lightsaber at Tra’an, perceiving him to be the greatest threat, but he was easily able to block the attack.
By this point, the three humanoid attackers had returned their sights to their foe and simultaneously swung their lightsabers. Arturis watched on, his skills unneeded, as Connor attempted to raise his lightsaber to defend himself, but there was nothing he could do to stop the 3 glowing blades that arced towards him from all directions simultaneously.
The rogue’s body fell limp and dead to the ground with a thud, his lightsaber flashing off by the time it hit the ground.
The three darksiders powered off their lightsabers and stood silently for a moment over the corpse of Connor Grey. A nearby stone two or three times the size of a human head lifted off the ground, floated over and above the corpse’s face and then suddenly slammed downward at high speed, crushing Grey’s skull with a large splat that caused everyone but Misium to leap back in an attempt to avoid the sudden mess.
“Was that really necessary, Misium?” Furios asked with an irritated tone and look on his face.
“Yes?” he replied while trying to conceal a guilty grin.
Morega solidly punched Battle Team Leader’s recently injured shoulder, causing him to recoil away from the Epicanthix with a mixture of pain and laughter.
“You’re cleaning the brain matter off my boots when we get back to the Anchorage,” Furios declared.
“Mine too.” the di Plagia added.
“Are you finished playing around now?” the diminutive Archpriest chimed in. Fortunately for his fur, he’d been standing far enough away to avoid the splattered gore.
As the Prelate began to speak, Misium glanced over at the set of speeders that they’d just secured and, realizing what was about to happen, made a lunge for the Kushiban and scooped him up.
“There are only two speeders.” Furios stated.
“Well, looks like Arturis and I will be taking one. You guys will have to share the other,” the Sith quickly threw in, making a move to one of the speeders.
“No way, Misium, I outrank you! You’re riding with Furios!” Reith objected.
“Hey, wait a minute, I outrank Misium, too, Tra’an, why don’t you ride with him, I’ll take Arturis!” the Epicanthix argued.
Taking the distraction as an opportunity, the Journeyman slowly inched off to one of the speeders. As the other two continued to argue over who would have to ride with him, he hopped onto the speeder with the furry Krath and sped off.
“Goddamnit, Misium!” Furios yelled, but it was too late.
The Epicanthix lifted a set of macrobinoculars from a utility pouch on the remaining speeder and peered through them at the speeding Journeyman. Misium was watching them over his right shoulder with a silly grin on his face. He took his corresponding hand from the steering mechanism and displayed a rude gesture to the two Obelisk. Arturis sat on the seat behind his driver, clutching at the robes in front of him.
“Well?” Tra’an asked impatiently.
Suddenly a red flash hurled toward the Knight from somewhere to the left. Preoccupied with his insult, his preemptive senses focused on the sniper’s shot at the last second but he failed to evade it. The bolt struck the frontal steering fins, causing the nose of the vehicle to dive into the ground. The Sith and Krath were violently vaulted from the speeder. Arturis landed on his front, receiving a face-full of dirt. Misium unwittingly performed a full front flip and landed on his rear, bouncing and skidding a meter or two before being promptly stopped by a rock which he struck with his groin. Furios chuckled as he turned his mechanically assisted eyes to the attackers.
“Snipers at 10 o’ clock,” he stated nonchalantly. “I’ll take them out with the speeder. You take care of Arturis and the moron.”
“Alright then,” the di Plagia replied. He wasn’t much of a speeder pilot anyway.
In the distance, a yellow blade flashed to life, deflecting crimson follow-up shots. Of course the Kushiban was the first to respond considering the Knight’s position, the fetal position. The Exarch began sprinting toward the fallen speeder, almost a kilometer away. His Prelate counterpart put away the device and hopped onto the speeder. Pushing the handles forward, he accelerated toward the sniper’s nest. As he neared the ridge from which the blaster bolts fired, he drew his lightsaber, activating the cerulean beam, and focused his energy into the speed and movement of his body. Once he was close enough to the enemy, Furios sharply turned the speeder and pulled the break thrusters, purposefully propelling himself into the midst of the sniper squad. With a whirl of precise swipes and lunges, he quickly dispatched several Loyalist soldiers, stabbing vital organs and severing limbs and heads. Without a moment’s hesitation, he directed his assault to the last sniper, easily the best trained of the bunch, but no quicker to react. The soldier barely had the reflexes to avoid a fatal blow, causing the attacking Equite to slice through his rifle instead.
“Noooo,” he grieved. “That was my favorite gun!” His lament was shortly lived as the Aedile sliced through his arm and then his neck.
With the immediate Loyalist threat taken care of, Furios Morega picked up a pair of binoculars from one of the spotter corpses and looked for his comrades. Tra’an Reith had reached them and was making Misium walk off his sensitive injury. Arturis deactivated his lightsaber, clipping it to his tiny belt, and brushing the dirt from his robes. The Epicanthix dropped the looted device and retrieved the speeder. Mounting it once again, he drove back to his teammates.
“I would beat some sense into you, Journeyman,” Furios began as he dismounted, “but it looks like you’ve learned the lesson yourself. Spend more time paying attention your surroundings and less time fracking around, especially when you’re on a mission.”
The Sith merely groaned in response, trying hard to stand up straight, but still hunching over just a bit. The Marauder stretched and blinked mild fatigue from his eyes as he directed the team onward. With only a short distance to go, there was no point in bringing the one still working speeder. As they marched up the last hill, the intermittent rumblings of explosions that had supplied undertone to their mission finally reached cacophonous levels. Upon reaching the crest, the four Plagueians could see the battle for the Valley of the Dark Lords.
Distracted by the battle in front of them, the Plagueians were not as quick to detect the small pack of tuk’ata that had crept up on them. At the last moment, the three humanoids managed to roll out of the way as one of the mangier of the pack pounced onto the not-so-fortunate kushiban.
“Quick! One of you, use your beast controlling powers to get this thing off of me!” the furry one called out.
“None of us have that ability,” Furios responded, with confusion setting in as he spoke.
“Why isn’t it shredding Arturis apart?” Misium was equally confused.
But then it became apparent.
“Wait a minute,” Tra’an paused for a moment before bursting into laughter. “I think,” the shi’ido struggled to get the words out through his laughter, as Furios and Misium began to join in having realized as well. “I think – it likes you!” Reith howled.
“That’s ridiculous!” Arturis protested angrily as the haggard beast nuzzled against the embarrassed ball of fur. “Get it off of me!”
“I don’t know, if we attack it, the rest of the pack might attack us.” Misium joked. “It may be safer to let it do its thing and go”
“I will end you!” the tiny Krath exclaimed while trying to hold the friendly beast back.
Through their laughter, they cut down the happy tuk’ata and a couple of the pack who attacked, but left the rest of them to run off. The Archpriest picked himself up and began to lay into his comrades, who hadn’t yet finished laughing at the unlikely turn of events.
“How dare you stand there and allow that beast to attack me like that!” Arturis demanded, pausing a moment to scratch himself.
“He wasn’t going to hurt you, Arturis” the Sith said with a giggle.
“Yeah, he’d never hurt you” Furios added.
Arturis engaged his lightsaber. “I swear to god, if you don’t stop laughing, I’m going to hurt yo–” The kushiban’s words cut short as he disengaged his lightsaber and dug his claws deep into his fur once again, scratching at another itch.
Tra’an’s laughter began to subside. “We should get a move on. We’ve wasted a lot of time between running around this planet, destroying speeders, and meeting Arturis’ boyfriend–” The three taller Plagueians burst back into laughter, while the shorter one’s lightsaber flashed on again.
“You’re the first one to die!” the pint-sized heartthrob proclaimed loudly before digging again into his fur.
The Disciples of Dreypa leader raised an eyebrow and began to grin. “You seem rather itchy all of a sudden. Don’t tell me you forgot to use protection!”
Schulen lept at Misium with lightsaber drawn. Reacting to his senses, he moved out of the way just in time for the ball of fur to zoom past, the Schadenfreude of it all inciting deeper laughter. The Krath landed, only to stop to dig his claws into his fur once again.
“This isn’t funny! I think that beast really did give me fleas!” Arturis shouted with rage.
Tra’an Reith surveyed the Valley of the Dark Lords, before opening his communicator and scanning channels for any sign of Dantella. He expected that she had over committed herself a while ago and would be calling for help soon. His brief time hunting and interacting with her had shown that she committed too much too early, every time.
“… we need help! This is Dantella Novae at the tomb of Marka Ragnos! We’re being overwhelmed by the forces of Cotelin! We need …” the transmission fuzzed back out. It was easy to see why, given the charged nature of the atmosphere. Less than half a kilometer , a small group of Taldryan forces could be seen hunkered down the opening to a hillside, eyes facing out as I guarding it. As the Plagueians moved in that direction, the communicator picked up the signal again, which seemed to have been setup for repeat broadcast, serving to further confirm that this was the hole they needed to go into.
Standing at the top of the hill under which the Tomb was buried, Tra’an and Furios looked at each other and stuck their hands out.
“Hutt Wookiee Gamorrean!” Their hands opened on the last to display a number, indicating which they’d chosen. As usual, Furios picked the Wookiee and lost to the Hutt.
“Wookiees never win Furios. You get Arturis for this round. Take the left half, Misium and I will take the right.” Furios nodded as Arturis scratched himself again, glaring at the three of them and saying nothing in the process, well aware that it wasn’t the time to continue his tirade against the injustice of getting fleas from his “boyfriend”. The two teams split and made their descent slowly and quietly, perching on the edges of the overhang protruding over the entrance to the tomb.
Each gave a double click on their radios and jumped at the same time, lightsabers coming to life like an attack of hornets. As they landed the momentary confusion among the Taldryanite forces was enough to ensure that there was no meaningful opposition. It took a matter of seconds for the four Dark Jedi to wade into to their midst and cut them down where they stood.
As they stowed their weapons, Tra’an inclined his head and they moved into the cave. Maintaining their pairings, they moved quickly into the cave, quietly dispatching enemy forces with fatal hand-to-hand attacks from behind. The forces they encountered were always facing into the cave, never thinking that their rear guard could have been eliminated without alerting them.
At last, they reached the final line deep within the cave, only to find that it would of course, not be as easy as they’d hoped. Two Obelisk Exarchs were supervising a team of grunts that were trying to break a sealed doorway. It seemed that Dantella had managed to shut herself in at the last minute. The Exarchs, leery of destroying such ancient artifacts, had them working to dig around it, rather than just cutting through the door with their lightsabers.
Tra’an Reith reached into his cloak and removed his trump card. Depressing the Dead Man’s switch, he strode forward, lightsaber in his left, explosive in his right.
“Hello Gentlemen. This would be the time that you should leave.” They whirled around, hands reaching for their weapons, only to pause when they saw the explosive. Everyone know what it was, few had the daring to possess or use them. As Misium, Furios, and Arturis all moved into visual range, they looked at each other and seemed to communicate telepathically. The three Plagueians moved around the left side of the cave, leaving a clear path to exit for the Obelisks.
“You can stay, or you can go now. Choose wisely.” Said Tra’an.
They backed away, moving around the other side of the cave, and fleeing the scene, certain that it wasn’t worth their death to try and retrieve Dantella. If they won this fight, they wouldn’t be strong enough to take down the Adept.
Carefully stowing the explosive after disarming it, Tra’an waved his hand at the work crew. Misium and Arturis moved to dispatch them as the di Plagia flipped open his communicator.
“Dantella, this is Reith. We’ve cleared out your attackers. Come on out, we’ve got a lot to do and not a lot of time.” He said.
A few moments passed with no response, before the ancient seal of the inner tomb of Marka Ragnos began to open, recessing into the wall first, before rolling away.
Out strode Dantella Novae, fierce and dangerous Dark Side Adept, In one hand, a carefully wrapped item that appeared to be a holocron, a chest of some kind in the other.
“We must hurry and deliver these to lord Esoteric. They are vital to the war effort.” She said, looking tired and bedraggled. It had apparently taken quite a bit out of her to retrieve them.
“Furios and Arturis, make sure the way remains clear. We’re leaving”.
“No, you’re not,” a trio of voices stated in eerie unison.
“Well that was quick,” Tra’an muttered to himself.
Three Krath stepped out of the shadows, blocking the exit for the team of Plagueians and Novae. Chills crawled up the spines of those loyal to Lord Esoteric and a heavy pit formed in each of their stomachs. Adorned with identical purple robes, they formed a triangle, two tall men in the front and a shorter woman behind. As their quarry turned to face them, the male Loyalists hefted two large rocks with the Force as the female focused purely on bolstering them through meditation. The stones flew through the air, aimed at the Equites on point. Furios stepped aside, allowing the projectile to miss him by mere centimeters, crashing onto the ground. Arturis caught his with his own telekinetic ability and tossed it aside. The Shi’ido and Epicanthix charged their attackers, blue and orange sabers at the ready. The two closest Pontifices extended their right hands, sending out surges of Force energy. The two Obelisk faltered in mid-stride, assaulted by nausea and fatigue. Furios clutched his head with his free hand, falling to one knee. Tra’an blinked a few times and put a finger to his temple but maintained a majority of his composure. Misium, who had started by gathering Force energy, arced a bolt of lightning at the Pontifex assaulting Tra’an, causing him to break his afflicting energy and block the electricity with a barrier. The Prelate however, was still under the other Krath’s affliction and vomited on the cave floor. Chunks of some indiscernible meal pooled onto the rocky surface and stomach acid seeped between the cracks and crevices.
Reith recovered from his sickness and renewed his charge on the Pontifex. With no further choice, the Pontifex drew his saber and blocked the attack. The di Plagia swung again and was blocked again but before a third strike could be made, he was blasted back by a burst of telekinetic force. Misium gathered energy for a second shock and struck at the Pontifex incapacitating Furios. Just like his comrade, the Krath erected a barrier to block the attack. Arturis leapt at the man, his yellow saber swinging at the robed figure. He ducked under the tiny Archpriest and drew his own purple lightsaber, swinging down at the Kushiban. The Epicanthix recovered as well and charged the Equite that had afflicted him once again. The Pontifex’s senses picked up the oncoming attack and he dodged it, simultaneously parrying another strike from Schulen. The small Plagueian suddenly shuddered and collapsed, quivering in a torrent of pain-inducing fear, whimpering to himself in mental and emotional anguish. The other active Pontifex had full control over him. Morega continued dueling his opponent.
Meanwhile, Tra’an had leapt back into the fray with the other Loyalist man, breaking his concentration on the furry Equite, who remained on the ground twitching intermittently, staring into space. Misium attempted to offset him with a telekinetic strike. The Krath blocked the Force-based attack with another, more acute barrier and focused more of his efforts on combating the aggressive Exarch in front of him. The strength of his opponent was staggering and repeated downward strokes forced him back. He fluidly switched to dueling with his left hand and applied outward force, causing the fight to rotate. Misium launched another arc of electricity at the Pontifex but he felt it coming and blacked it with his lightsaber. The di Plagia took the opportunity to renew has assault and began forcing his enemy back with powerful blows. Suddenly the Loyalist slipped on the vomit that had been spreading out on the cavern floor and landed in it. Reith leapt in for a kill but the man on the ground clumsily blocked it, more so pushing his attacker off center than actually blocking. The Exarch suddenly found himself being sharply jerked off his target. The shattering of the energy influencing the two Krath males could be felt throughout the cave.
“Take these. Guard them with your life,” Dantella Novae said as she shoved the recovered artifacts into the hands of a startled Misium.
Done recuperating, the Elder pushed extra strength into her limbs and charged into the female Pontifex. As soon as she was in range, she forced her back with a telekinetic wave. The woman flew through the air and landed hard on the floor of the cave. The Krath fighting Furios lost his concentration and the Prelate took his shot. With a fistful of electricity he punched his opponent in the stomach, causing him to collapse onto his hand and knees, deactivating and dropping his purple lightsaber. With the sudden shocking impact, he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the ground, just as he had done to the Aedile before.
“Payback sucks, doesn’t it?” Furios asked as he decapitated the first of the three Pontifices.
The remaining male loyalist had returned to his feet and continued his fight. Though his concentration was lost, he still managed to block the strikes of both Reith and Morega. Novae engaged the female Pontifex, remaining fairly evenly matched in her weakened state. The two Obelisks struck at their target ceaselessly and it was clear that he was losing his ground. As the Krath swung his lightsaber to block a strike from Furios, he wasn’t quite quick enough to fully block the strike made by Tra’an, who managed to make slight contact with his shoulder, causing a yelp of pain. With Misium’s hands full, he took the opportunity to focus on Dantella’s opponent, filling her mind with fear. Her defenses dropped and the Elder took advantage, cleanly removing the arm that held her lightsaber. The weaponless Krath cried out in pain and fell to her knees clutching at what was left of her arm. Meanwhile, the two Plagueians had clearly worn down the last combatant, as his defenses were beginning to fail.
“I won’t let you remove the relics from this tomb!” the weakening Krath called out.
“You don’t have any say in that,” the di Plagia responded coldly, as he spun and drove his lightsaber into the man’s chest.
“They… belong… in a museum…” the dying Krath grunted as he fell to the floor and took his last breath.
Lightsabers disengaged as the group gathered in front of the one-armed loyalist. A weak force blast pushed the group back slightly, but there just wasn’t enough fight left in her to have much of an effect on the group. This didn’t stop her from trying, however.
“You’ve given up your fight and have decided to provide us with any information we seek,” the Elder spoke as she waved her hand at the Krath.
“I’ve given up my fight. I will provide you with any information you seek,” she replied.
While Dantella interrogated the remaining Pontifex, Tra’an walked over to the communications array nearby. Examining it, he realized that his limited understanding of how it worked meant that he wouldn’t be able to repair it.
“Arturis, get over here. I need you to fix this unit so we can call in reinforcements or an evacuation ship. Failing that, I need to at least be able find out that we won’t be getting any.” Arturis glared at him, mumbling beneath his breath as he scratched occasionally, his hands always moving.
The furry engineer looked around and grabbed a nearby tool case, or tried to. Reith moved it next to the array and opened it, the lid of the case not quite fully open before the paws of lightning had already snatched two tools and started working. It was amazing to watch him work, seeing him making small adjustments and moving wires around. It didn’t make any sense to Tra’an, but it was still interesting.
Within minutes, the damaged array produced a clear signal and could hear everything going on around them. Listening produced a pretty clear picture that Esoteric’s forces were winning the fight. The nature of Plagueis’ training in Guerilla warfare and the ability to draw on the talents of the One Sith as necessary to plug holes meant that they could adapt and adjust wherever it was necessary, never behaving predictably.
The fight for Korriban being mostly won, the di Plagia sent a pre-arranged signal to a Cygnus Spaceworks Lambda class shuttle in orbit. The deflector meant it wouldn’t have any issue landing in the crowded, dangerous Valley of the Dark Lords.
“Ok folks. We’re leaving. Grab whatever arms or missing limbs you may think you need and follow me!” Tra’an announced, the obvious irritation of Dantella. “There’s a Deflector equipped shuttle on the way. If you’re not on it, you’ll be dead by afternoon. Let’s go!” Grumbling about being under appreciated, she placed her hand on the head of the Ponitfex, using the Force to render a sleeping affliction upon him. As the one-armed Krath fell to the ground, she looked over at Furios and raised her eyebrow.
Grumbling himself, Morega picked up his burden and made his way to follow Tra’an, Arturis behind him, Misium in the rear, being followed by Dantella.
They made quick work of traversing the maze they had entered into, following the trail of corpses from their entry. Emerging just as the Lambda flared its wings and settled onto the ground. The moment the hatch opened, Tra’an stood to the side.
“Go Go Go!” he shouted, his team hustling aboard. Falling in behind the Elder, he was the last man up, the hatch closing behind him as the shuttle made to lift straight for orbit. Striking quickly, Tra’an hit Dantella in the back of her head with the heel of his hand, taking advantage of her weakened state to knock her out. Laying her gently on the ground, he reached for a nearby medkit and injected her with a sedative that would keep her out for twelve hours.
At the looks of everyone else, he stared back at them.
“You didn’t see her on the Avenger. She can’t be trusted and I wasn’t about to make it easy for her to take the artifacts for herself. We’ll turn her over to Esoteric unharmed, and let the Lord deal with her as She sees fit.”
They all nodded, taking the medkit to treat their own issues and injuries as Tra’an sat down beside the bulkhead and closed his eyes after taking the artifacts from Misium.
“At least we made it out alive and without bugs. Well, most of us.” The resounding chuckle in the compartment was meat with shrieks of indignation at the same time and it felt like a good end to what had been a long mission.
