Karmesinrot Heiliger's Story

A space bus had whizzed into the spaceport, sitting in the back seat would be a man wearing a very distinguishing mask that made a distinct whizzing sound. His attire was a knee length black leather jacket that was buttoned at the sternum, leather boots that came up to his knees, black leather gloves, a red, button up blouse and a pair of black leather pants. His legs were extended and crossed at the ankles and his arms remained crossed at his chest.

Sitting beside him was a black attache case that had a finger print analyzer and a number code lock that only he knew the code for. The bus shook slightly as it came into port and the airlocks engaged which caused the door to open. He stood up and stretched before reaching back and gripping the handle of the attache case before turning around and exiting the side door. The mask of the saint had moved slightly at the optics much like a gearbox as it adjusted to the surrounding light. He looked around slowly and made way for the door, his mission was just starting.

An assassin had to be prepared for everything, that was his second lesson. The initial tests for this lesson, he was told to choose 1 out of 50 things. He failed this one for a long time, and it was painful. Eventually, he learned lesson 3, through lesson 2. Never play fair. He took as much as he could carry, and said it was all one thing: His Equipment.

SO when the Big Sister went in front of him, as she screamed, he placed a Magnetic Locking Device straight onto her, which would cause her armor to be impossible/near impossible to move. Also, if there was any giant magnet in the area, she would find herself stuck to that as well. He took this time to throw another Cluster-Turret Grenade, only this time, he aimed it specifically at her partner.

"Now..." he started, as a bus wizzed by above them. He took a moment to process the situation, and instead of saying some final words, ran for his ship, tossing a few Burrow Mines, which immediately burrowed underground, and displayed a hologram of what they burrowed through above them, and if anyone got close to them, they would explode.

He figured that should slow them down enough. The Big Sister cop, he hoped, would go and save her partner instead of chasing him, and the mines would make sure she could not follow so easily. Even so, he kept his guard up, and he ran as quick as possible to the large ship that would soon be taking off, and he planned to be on it.

This person obviously did not know whom he was dealing with, yes her armor weighed a ton, and those mines stung quite a bit, but she had one last trick to screw him over. Aiming very carefully she pulled out a rocket spear loaded her harpoon and fired straight at the buses engines. It was downright dangerous, but since the person was too busy running for it, he would unlikely see it. Leaping, she tore at the magnetic locking device, barely managing to get it off before rushing to Jenna and using her armour as a shield tore through one turret.

There was a satisfying boom as she heard the ship being hit. An alarm sounded and a voice spoke, "Due to unexpected engine damage Space Bus 5290 can't leave. We are sorry for the inconvenience. This is Terra Space, look beyond the horizon." the recorded message stopped and she prepared herself for next turret, eyeing Jenna and deciding what to do.

In a flash she pushed her partner down and using her body warmth, drew the fire away from Jenna to her. Jenna would probably get quite annoyed, but she was not going to let her friend be injured due to her own aggression. Nope instead if anyone was going to be injured it was Elizabeth McCarthy.

"Dispatch, Aiedail reporting in on behalf of the Terran Militia! What's the situation at the Spaceport?"

Wing City blurred past Aiedail in a rush as she shot through the sky like a fighter jet, closing in on the Spaceport. The android's scanners were trained on the building and quickly picked up the area where the combat was taking place, detecting Elizabeth's screams and the gunfire from the turrets - not to mention the explosions.

'Confirmed, Aiedail, this is Officer Sanderson. Reports of explosions and gunfire coming from inside, we're unable to get into contact with the operators there, but standard procedure should be to have the place evacuated and flights locked down.'

"Roger that, Officer!" Aiedail replied, "Aiedail out, I'll keep you updated!"

Shooting in through the main entrance over the heads of the crowd of fleeing civilians, Aiedail slowed her speed to a more controllable one as she made her way through the building towards the fighting. She arrived just in time to see Elizabeth move over to Jenna, with the Silent Child fleeing the scene and out of sight.

She hovered in place for but a moment, two rocket pods protruding outwards from her shoulders and launching a barrage of ballistics at the turrets that had been left behind, the high-impact explosions tearing through the devices and setting off some of the nearby mines. "Officer!" she called to Elizabeth, "Get your injured partner to safety! I will pursue the suspect!"

And without another word, that's exactly what she did. Her scanners kicked into gear, sweeping the area for the Silent Child's lifesigns. She isolated a number of nearby individuals, but the child's physical age was his downfall: he was the only none-adult this deep in the spaceport still, the rest of the children either having fled with their families or being deep in the crowd of refugees outside. Her jets kicked in again and she soared after him, passing through the air over the mines without hindrance.

"Halt!" she called after him, "Cease resistance or I will be forced to harm you!"

Darth Xalgan waited in the spaceport. He paced across the hangar like a prowling tiger, steel boots clanging menacingly on the metal grates. A dark cape flowed behind him and flourished as he turned directions.

“Incompetent Terrans…” the Sith hissed through his respirator.

“Cheer up, my lord.” Xalgan’s twi’lek companion replied. “I’m sure the ship will be all fixed up before too long.”

Vette watched Xalgan stew in his irritation. She placed her hands on her hips, fingers drumming on the hilts of her blasters, and kept an eye on the hangar door. Though she trusted his instincts, it wouldn’t do for a threat to sneak up on them while he was distracted.

“We can hardly spare more time here than we already have, Vette.” Xalgan growled, dark side energy churning around him. “We must return to Imperial space with all speed. I have been gone from my station for far too long.”

Admiral Steele was making his way through the spaceport, a very stern look about on his face, as he was flanked on either side by Aschen marines, each wearing their signature black BDU uniforms, with armored gear worn over them.

"Sir, your Condor will be arriving, shortly to take you back to your ship." The Marine sergeant reported. "Command has stared that it is of utmost importance that you return to Imperial space with all due haste." The Sergeant added, as the group rounded a corner.

Rythmic footfalls filled the hangar that Darth Xalgan was pacing about in. The doors opened up in the opposite side of the large bay, and a formation of six soldiers, in clearly identifiable Aschen uniforms could be seen. They clasped their disruptor rifles tightly, as they maintained their formation around a stern looking man, in a dark grey, and blue uniform.

They stopped about a hundred feet away, near an empty landing pad. Each Marine took in the sights all around them, and they fanned out around various crates, and equipment to take defensible positions in the event of a fight. Each soldier moved with the discipline that betrayed years of training, while the older man stared out the hangar into the skyline before him, then he checked his watch.

Shrknar glanced over his shoulder at the self-important Admiral Steele, who was just across the promenade. His nostril slits flared open, accompanied by a hissing exhalation of machine-assisted breath. The denizens of this world were... strange.

He had other things to attend to, however. Not to be dissuaded from his mission, he set out for Gambit's Bar to meet with his Terran contact.

"We've got company, my lord." Vette said, hand resting on her blaster and eyes trained on the soldiers.

"Calm yourself, Vette." Xalgan hissed, respirator sighing. "They're only Aschen, and if they were looking for a fight... they would have brought more men."

The twi'lek nodded, but she remained vigilant. Xalgan likewise ceased his mad pacing, straightened his back, and calmed his breath. Control. He thought. I am a Sith, not a wild animal. Strength, yet peace. Power, yet wisdom.

Xalgan watched the aschen soldiers through the dark lenses of his helmet. Though he doubted any malice on their part, he had heard the rumors, and so he opened himself to the ebb and flow in the Force to read their intentions. He was confident he could wipe out the entire unit in the space of six seconds if he needed to, but he would not be caught unawares.

Senseless violence was also unbecoming of a Darth.

The Admiral kept his eyes on his surroundings, and his Marines followed suit. Several eyes were on the Twi’ilek, and several shrill whines emanated from the Aschen group, as thumbs flicked across power switches, and several holographic sights, that weren’t there previously had flickered to life. Several Aschen soldiers powered their disruptor rifles, and Admiral Steele quickly took notice.

“Sergeant.” Steele said calmly. “We’re not here for a firefight.”

The Marine sergeant nodded, but cast his second nod in the direction of the Darth and his accomplice.

“They’re watching us, the Xeno has her hand on her weapon.” The Marine whispered.

Their intent was clouded by their hatred of this place, their Xenophobia, but nothing malevolent surfaced, the Admiral kept his own thoughts closely guarded, but he seemed to be waiting for something.

Darth Xalgan sneered beneath his helmet.

"Vette..." He said, loud enough for the marines to hear him. "I do believe that these aschen are afraid of you. How quaint. I can feel their hate... their disdain. They would be wise to keep their guards up. Few have seen a Darth firsthand and lived to tell the tale. I am not without mercy, however, and I find the wasted lives of perfectly good soldiers to be distasteful."

"Gee..." Vette rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "How kind of you. You are, by far, the nicest evil guy I know."

The gathered Aschen soldiers watched Darth Xalgan closely, his words did not fall on deaf ears, though, and more than one Marine had their eyes affixed to him.

The Marine sergeant closest to Steele slowly leaned over, and began to whisper.

"Et Xeno contumeliam nobis."

"Ego animadvertit" Steele replied.

He looked back out to the landing pad, as the shrill whine of an Aschen Empire Condor VTOL troop transport began to fill the inside, a moment later, the angular, imposing form of the Aschen transport craft could be seen as it carefully maneuvered into the hangar bay, touching down delicately on the landing pad.

Steam hissed from release vents near the landing gear, and the rear deployment ramp opened as the engines began to die down.

Two Adepts of war emerged, clad in a deep black armor, towering at nearly ten feet in height. Their boots made a dull thuink against the metal plates of the landing pad, and they cradled their weapons, twenty-two millimeter heavy magnetron rifles, an Aschen designed coilgun designed to accelerate a hyper-dense projectile at high velocities.

Steele simply cast a sidelong glance at Xalgan, and spoke to his sergeant loud enough to hear.

"We have nothing to fear, Sergeant, these... Sith would be foolish to challenge us." Steele said, huffing. "Afterall, the last Sith lord to challenge the might of the Aschen Empire paid for it dearly, as we massacred her armies, and set fire to her planets."

"Ad Victoriam." The Adept of war called out, saluting Steele briskly.

"Afterall, our military might is without equal. Have you seen a Star Destroyer go up against a Reverence, Sergeant? It was a... short battle." Steele added, starting towards the ramp.

In a fitting moment of dramatic irony, another ship pulled into the hangar and touched down several meters from Darth Xalgan. A Fury-class Interceptor lowered its ramp, and a dark-clad robed figure stepped out onto the hangar. A fully enclosed helmet, much like a fencing mask, and a crimson hood shrouded their face.

"It is natural for the predator to quell the weakest of the flock." Xalgan replied as the figure approached him. "And so the herd is made stronger for it. The wolves should be wary, however, of challenging the alpha. They have ascended to their station for a reason, whether through guile or strength, and so would be a more... fitting adversary."

"Master," the figure knelt - a woman by her voice. "Your ship has been repaired and refueled. Are these people troubling you? Do you require me to dispose of them?"

"No, Lady Wilsaam." Xalgan placed a hand on her shoulder. "That will not be necessary. Come, let us return to the Gravestone. I am sure the rest of the Alliance must be fraught with worry over my absence."

Chondra Balencio had enough of this planet, and longed for the quiet solace of home. Now to begin the journey back. The hem of her white robes brushed the ground as she maneuvered through security and towards the terminal where the shuttle waited. Anyone short enough would notice her feet didn't touch the ground, but it wasn't enough to draw an unusual amount of attention to her. If there was one thing she learned here, it was to expect the unexpected. Always.

The wasn't going far, but it was the fastest and safest way to start going home. What was it called again? She stopped in front of a display and read down the lines. Ah, yes, there it is:

The Pharos - 30 MINUTES TO DEPARTURE

THE PHAROS - 20 MINUTES TO DEPARTURE - DESTINATION: BLUE HEAVEN

A voice sounded throughout Wing City Spaceport, "THE PHAROS - 10 MINUTES TO DEPARTURE - FINAL NOTICE TO BOARD"

Irahel arrived from a small flash of light near the terminal for The Pharos. It took her a moment to get her bearings right, but sure enough she knew where she was. Irahel swore under her breath for a solid minute before marching down the terminal towards The Pharos.

After all she had done to get away from this planet, away from her old Master, only to wind up right back here?
No. Nope. Nah. Time to leave.

The Rocketeer stands in the spaceport, wishing he had a ship, then shakes his head. He needs to get onto a ship. There's no chance of him getting one.