Log:What Remains

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What Remains

OOC Date: July 2nd, 2020
Location: Twilight - Syha'h Sector, Unknown Regions
Participants: Vhe Tenara, Marzanna, Lokir, Mandl, Nerys Arda and Hadrix Kora (GM)

The planet hoves into view, the atmosphere a soft glimmering blue that ekes into purple when the starts revert to normal and ships return to realspace. Sensors pick up power and basic systems in addition to a few old satellites still hover in orbit - but there is nothing else visible on screens.

Lightning flashes in the dark clouds over the planet and the red giant sun hanging distant sets an angry glow across viewscreens.

<<"This is Hadrix - prepping for landing approach. I am available as needed for assistance. Woor'tra sounding off.">> the rumbling posh accented voice of the Mandalorian coming over comms.

The ominous atmosphere leaves Vhe tense and wary, the intiate giving a slow look around as the teal hood of her sleeveless robe has been pulled up over her thick braid. Sharp dark brown eyes scan the horizon and then look up at the flashes. "This is...not at all welcoming." She remarks as she considers the view from the ship. She settles back as she feels the approach, her hand smoothing over the cylindrical item at her hip. She glances around at the others, frowning some before she closes her eyes and breathes in slowly. Her chest rises and falls, as if she's gathering herself and calming, stripping away that apprehension. A sort of ease and peace slips over her features as she braces for landing by spreading her feet.

Mandl relates: "Dr. B'rot has done some homes-work-- this is what the CIS called "Twilight," and if any of you are talented slicers, Mandl has broken the rudimentary security-lockouts on the probe back there--" Mandl back-chins to the mysterious lump beneath a tarp. "... the distress signal was antiquated, but the colony was funded by by early CSA in a multi-racial alliance: Mandl can perhaps get into their satellite network for more detailed scans of the surface."

Suited up in stock looking Void armor is an unknown. Marzanna doesn't really speak a lot and for most it's vocoded due to the helmet. With her is a BB unit that is black and silver. R0-LY keeps warbling to the woman as they are getting stuff together. She has a vibrodagger strapped to her side and other than that does not seem to be armed. Maybe she's got something hidden away. She stands when they are on their approach, <<Thank you, Hadrix.>> the voices states over comms. Then she's waiting for their exit from the ship.

Nerys, who had found for herself a comfortable place that was not in anyone's way, had spent most of the trip in silence, trying to get a handle on whatever readings they had been able to retrieve from the probe Mandl had managed to access, but it seemed it was thin on the ground. Alas. Well, she had her gear as she always did, and her backpack, and her can do spirit. And that would have to do. "You stick close, Belate. Don't think the Kora will stick around and wait for you if you fall behind." The droid chirped up, "Yes, I know you are clearly the most important person here." There was amusement in her voice and Nerys and her droid muttered to each other. <<I'm ready.>>

The Pointed Exchange drops out of hyperspace, fully staffed with an experienced crew. <Tin Can, dropping in. Heard the beacon and figured it was worth a sniff.> From his cockpit, Lokir monitors the sensors as C4 boops and beeps alertly. The mercenary gunners and ex-fighter jock Lokir brought along for the ride are old comrades, and are happy to stay as frosty as needed.

When the ships enter atmosphere it has a sensation of plunging into a pool filled with thick ink. Clouds that seem more liquid than might be normal cling to hulls and viewscreens. When they're broken, it's like fingers dragging over the transparisteel revealing a sight akin to other colony worlds. A near ten decade expanse of smaller buildings and habitats erected around a hub, established streets rolling away like spokes from it.

Sensor readings, for those whose systems are not garbled by the thickened mist and atmospheric distortion, read thick pockets of life in major habitat and city centers but naught elsewhere... For those who can read the world through eyes unseen, and able to pierce the thickened miasma seeming to cloud the force - there is a sensation of thousands of eyes turning upward, watching, predatory.

As the ships close in there is another discovery when passing through the physical miasma - local system equipment is reporting time be locally 10:00, but the skies are grim as late dusk and the light of the city is scattered at best, most are out and any shining is dim to guttering.

Rocked about when they first hit, the atmosphere is an adjustment that is taken in the moment. Vhe's calm expression is quickly broken by a flutter of eye lashes before she tries to reach out. Just like some of those sensors she can not feel a thing, her senses turned about by the atmosphere and offer her no insight. The initiate frowns and as the rumble and creak of the ship finally sets down she is slowly climbing. There is a focused expression on her face as she heads for the ramp and with a press of the release, it begins to open with a whine. Down she descends as it clunks into place and she steps out onto the landing pad, her first few steps lightly scuffing before she stops, her dark braid hanging over one shoulder and free of the teal hood. Her head tilts and a hand lifts to rub at the back of her neck. "Something..." She begins to say and then loud enough for the others who disembark as well. "Be on guard, something is near." What? She does not say or maybe she does not know but her hand reaches for the stunsaber at her side and removes it from her belt.

Mandl's attempts to scan the surface result in garbage, and vocal Bith profanities. They focus presently on landing in one piece amid the murk, pausing only to check-and-secure weapons and armor...

Marz closes her eyes behind that helmet and there's a moment taken to reach out. To see if there is anything that she can sense. The sudden turning of eyes and the predatory air that comes with it makes her curious. Vhe warns folks first so she stays quiet for the moment, though her hand goes to the dagger on her hip, resting their just in case she needs to free it to quickly dispatch someone.

<<I'm picking up faint heat signatures around the buildings near the port. Nothing stable, as if whatever is generating them won't stay still for more than a few seconds at a time. I don't see anything that indicates that anything is directly approaching our position.>> Nerys hopped down from the ship, swinging her backpack around to retrieve her weapon from its front compartment, <<But we are being watched.>>

The Pointed Exchange slices through the choppy atmosphere. Turrets swivel, but nothing turns up on scans to satisfy the appetitie of the twin sets of dual laser cannons and friendly concussion missile launcher. Glancing out the cockpit, Lokir nods. "Ah, good. A proper hunting environment."

As the YT-2400 settles on its landing skids, Lokir draws his Theed S-5 and checks the pack. Nodding to himself, Lokir hits the landing ramp deployment and enters the starport. Glancing around, his sharp teeth tingle as his eyes pick out signs of welding and struggle. <"Doors look welded shut. Drag marks by the sewer gratings. Stay sharp, folks.">

There is an absence of even the sound of night insects, even the click or scrape of boots on the ground is heard as if through folded cloth pressed over ears. The guttering lights making the normal grunts or buzz of failing neon and fluorescent like the flap of moth wings.

Likewise, the gloom is heavy - heavier than it should be. There is a sense in the air, a taste like blood and something sickly sweet that cloys to everything. Whispers, or what could be, just on the edge of listening before a stabbing finger of electric rage strikes just outside the city, the rumble of the beast call the first thing to be truly heard since descending the ramps.

Something is off, that much is clear and as she takes steps closer towards the city, her saber in hand. Vhe narrows her gaze and tilts her head, listening. Her eyes close and she focuses and the sounds alone. "Its not something...humanoid. Does anyone else hear it?" She asks of the group, trying to pitch her rich voice a little lower so that she does not draw too much attention. But despite this her hand tightens on the weapon in hand and with a smoothing finger across its surface it snaps to life in a white glow, a soft hum sizzles the oxygen in the air as she holds it down and at her side in an angle so she does not blind herself.

As the saber sweeps into being there then comes a thin, high pitcheds sound that retreats into the city. "Oh...ohhh they do not like light. Whatever /they/ are. Or /it/." She steps forward, watching the shadows.

Mandl steps carefully and quietly, readying their blaster. "Perhaps we should take up positions around the-- laser-sword," they suggest.

Marz gives a look around the area when they disembark the ship, R0-LY rolls hesitantly off after her, warbling and beeping about things, <<We'll be fine.>> she tells the droid. But he doesn't believe her. His arm extends, a tiny electrical jolt sent up the back of her leg and then rolls his happy round butt back into the ship. Where it is safe. It leaves her shaking her head. The flash of lightning though gets her attention, <<There's something up there on that water tower at the end of the landing area. Don't know if we want to check it out, but, this is all a bit weird.>> she admits. Vhe's suggestion of them not liking the light makes her give a look to her belt and there's a bit of a sigh, <<Let me help with that.>> she states when as she brings forth her lightsaber and turns it on, <<Hopefully they will leave us be while we search.>> she states.

Nerys, who had been in the middle of peering out into the city, what they could see of it, all of her senses bent to the task, tipped her head as she heard the words from the woman with the brightly glowing sword. <<That's handy to know.>> Because if you couldn't bring a little light into the darkness, where were you? She reached down with her free hand, as the headlamp on her armor flickered on, casting an arc of light ahead of her, hand patting the top of Belate's head. Not that the droid was going anywhere, he was rolling so close to Nerys' legs he was risking bumping into her if she didn't move fast enough. <<Remains. A pile of them up in the water tower. Ripped apart, flesh taken down to the bone, piled into a midden heap. All sizes, ages. It might be that whatever is out there has the ability to fly. Pluck a meal from the ground, take it up to a safe place to feed.>>

Lokir feels his mouth fill up with saliva as he hears the telltale signs of another lifeform. Predator? Prey? Devaronians eat both. His polite teeth peel back into his gums, leaving only sharp fangs in his mouth. <Sounds of skittering and climbing coming through. Sounds like we have company. Might be hungry.>

Vhe gives Marzanna a side glance, a lingering one before she nods. "Then let us start forward." She wets her lips and lifting her saber holds it upwards, horizontal to the ground above her head. She steps forward and towards the water tower that is noted but is staying near enough to offer the others some cover with the flickering light of her white saber. Her head turns to glance back as she notes each of those with her as she spaces herself so that Marzanna's own saber is used to its advantage. She unforunately misses anything of import.

Mandl, after some ersatz mixing and shaking, mixologists up an armament that will provide temporary light-- a kind of makeshift flare. They *ker-snapt* activate one, the expanding foam acting as a messy, messy torch to keep their allies protected.

Nerys was moving along, she really was. But she was also looking, and tracking, and trying to process anything she could pick out of the darkness and the cloying feeling of air too thick for its own good. She spoke in short bursts, staccato words as she information came in, as if it took great effort to keep all of her senses turned up to maximum and communicate what she was seeing and smelling, and hearing. <<The sweet isn't...just sweet. It smells fecund, like some sort of mold or fungus underneath the sweetness.>> Beat. <<I'm tracking more heat signatures fading forward and backin that building there. The old habitat barracks. They move forward when I look away and draw back when I turn towards them. It might be the light.>> She kept on, Belate hugging her leg like a growth, his tiny little repair arm popping out, which, while not a weapon, seemed to make him feel better. <> that, just as the group would feel the ground shake, << as if something were tracking with us.>>

Marzanna gives a nod to Vhe, not needing to say anything. Whipping out a lightsaber in these times might get differing reactions, but, no one jumps on her so it's time to get moving. She positions herself to where she can lend more of the group light and doesn't use the big bada boom of other things. <<It looks like there are vehicles ahead that seem to be...abandoned where they halted.>> the woman states with a frown.

Lokir pads forward in the dark, keeping to the shadows despite Mandl's creative illumination. His gate naturally lengthening, he slinks forward, his natural instincts trumping his heavy composite armor. Eyes on a swivel, Lokir is ready to pounce on his dinner... once it arrives.

At the old habitat quarters the scent grows so that even those without heightened senses can detect it. The main hatchway buckled inward, enough that an average sized humanoid might be able to squirm or squeeze through - armor being harder.

Within there is more fungus or mold stench, but passage within will be difficult without forcing the doors wider for those who are dressed in heavier gear - unless a different way is found.

Vhe notes the small opening before her and glances back at the group. "I will go in first to offer light and wait. Did you want to bring up the rear?" This asked of Marzanna who holds their other source of light. She waits for a confirmation before slipping in, turningherself and the saber sideways still held overhead. Without armor the initiate manages to pass through and just on the other side she steps aside and waits. The saber is moved, her gaze adjusts but its the smell that hits her. She reaches her spare hand up to cover her nose but she can not help her eyes which water a bit. The sounds that were once there quiet and then only the remannts of a tapping sound down the corridor.

"I hear something in here, some form of tapping. Different from what we were hearing." Once they all enter. "The tapping is down that corridor." She points, holding the saber aloft and managing to merely cough.

Within it has remained, for what can be seen, a utilitarian sort of colony habitat. Moved out of ships and erected to begin a colony proper. The entry hall is big enough for a dozen sentients comfortably, two dozen less so. With corridors branching left and right to head deeper into the habitat. But to where would be something for a map, or historians of old hab-styles and their engineering.

Mandl pauses, listens. "It is definitely... coordination. These are pack-hunters. More than simply animal intelligence."

Marz doesn't really like the situation, there's too many variables and she wants to see if they can find what exactly is going on with this place. Her lightsaber is held in a grip that makes sure she's not going to drop it, but not far enough that it can be knocked out of her grasp. <<Creepy.>> she mutters to herself.

Nerys frowned, as the team began to move in,<<Might have been easier to use the saber to cut the door off so we could get in and out more easily.>> But as she wasn't the one with the lightsaber, she simply waited, eyes scanning the entry, before she proceeded in, her weapon ready, using her palce in the middle of the group to her advantage, <<Belate, see if you can pick out any control panels for this place and let's see if we can get the light up in here.>> The small droid chirped sadly, but did as he was bidden. As they moved in, Nerys came on the comms again, <<The lefthand passage has the greatest amount of heat signatures, the most evidence of recent movement, it continues on after a right hand turn. The right hand passage not so much, but I can hear something dripping that way.>> As Nerys swept her headlamp, all 5000 lumens of it around, the group could see the scoring from blaster bolts as well as splatters of blood covering, literally covering the walls, floor, and ceiling.

Lokir eyes the rickety door from behind his mirrored visor. He then glances at his armored form. Back to the doorway. <We're pack hunters, too. But...I think I'll find a cleaner way in.>

Scanning the roof, Lokir spots a window and nearby parapet. With a near silent shot, Lokir finds himself rapellong through the air as his S5 finds purchase in the ledge. Quietly moving forward, Lokir quickly disables the electronic lock and slips into the room. Lokir spies a figure sitting in a chair. Creeping forward silently, pistol drawn--Lokir finds the threat already neutralized. <Got a body up here. Suicide by blaster. Whatever goes bump in the dark might be a bit frisky.>

Progress down the right hand corridor results in the thin carpet crackling at steps when crusted ichor breaks under her weight. All sounds cease save for her footsteps and with the light of her saber the blood gives way to thick slime that clings to boots and snags clothing if moved to close to the walls.

Dripping continues, slow and steady, coming from a room marked in old Galactic Basic as the 'Dormitory Fresher Services'. With a corridor going to the relative left, akin to it's twin down the lefthand passage that would branch relative right.

Down this hallway though, the turn left brings with it a stink of rot, cinnamon and sweetness. Like old books and spices.

Vhe glances back at Nerys and notes Lokir no longer there. A moments hestiation and she shakes her head, "No way I could have helped wiht the door. Not with this anyways." She tilts her head to the raised stunsaber in her hand and gives a look down both halls, making a brief face again at the smell and nods. "It may be best to clear out the way that has no signs. Just to be sure we are clear to follow the heat signatures. I would not like to be caught between something in case something down there is not registering," she admits to Nerys and the others.

The dripping is something to investigate. Vhe pushes back her hood to free up more of peripheral and does her best to move around what comes to some viscous liquid.

Her lips part and she makes a face. "What in the galaxy," she begins, lifting her foot when she first encounters it but slowly, slowly she begins to enter the Fresher. The smell changes and she makes a slow study around her before stepping in.

The fresher is an abattoir. Water pipes broken The fresher is an abattoir. Water pipes broken and the last vestiges of water drizzling to create the dripping sound as it fills a basin and overflows slowly.

Bodies are hung over waste receptacles, mixing with the water there and forming morbid pools ranging in crimson to emerald to sapphire - cut groin to neck - draining and causing further additions to that sound. No living soul save Vhe, currently, is present. But the reek of blood is almost overpowering.

"Sometimes I forget I can use it for a cutting tool as well." Marz gives a bit of a nod to Nerys about the saber comment. There is a moment taken to see if she can reach out and maybe 'connect' with whatever it is out there. Or one of them if that is the case, but it's not happening. The woman turns the corner into the refresher and there's a bit of a moment to slowly look around, <<Well...this is not welcoming interior decorations.>>

Mandl retires to a nearby console, *tappa-tappa* away. "This area is clear save for us-- most of the unknown bio-signs are concentrated toward the charnel hallway."

Nerys, who did not seem much bothered by the sight, but then, you see too many damned terrible things in this world, was a scientist, and she scienced, stepping into the refresher after Vhe, and moving to examine one of the bodies. She did not just run up on the dead, though, but collapsed her bowcaster, attaching it to the clip for it on the side of her backpack, drawing her sword instead, and prodding the body with the tip of her sword, as if she fully expected it to move when she did so. Not finding any movement, she moved closer, allowing the light from her helmet to illuminate the cuts, <<This doesn't look like any claw marks I am familiar with. Well, possibly, if they were scalpel sharp, but this debloooding...and look here,>> she continued, even though she was sure no one was going to look, <<The way the edges of the skin have been peeled away from the wounds, as though...whomever did this planned to skin the bodies.>>

Belate, because he was a good droid, an obedient droid, did as he was ordered. and moved to the first and most likely maintenance conduit he could find, putting his little droid brain to work. It took him a second or two, but the lights soon flared to life. The lights lasted perhaps ten seconds, long enough for the group to get a good long look around, which was not at all to their benefit, before the lights flickered out, replaced by red emergency lights. And into the red light more sounds. A high, eerie keening and the sound of footfalls rumbling in the hallways.

Lokir inches closer to the body. On his lap is a datapad. Lokir delicately removes it from the dead man's clutches and browses through recent data. What he finds is...alarming. Holofootage of shadowy, multiple armed bipeds--swarms and floods. The written accounts record an attempted planetary evacuation--from what had become a veritable slaughterhouse. Lokir puts the datapad into his pack and quietly radios the group. <Change of plans--time to leave. Found a datapad--we can't fight what's here. We don't have the numbers. Let's regroup outside of this building and get off this bloody rock, ASAP.> Satisfied that the mission is done, Lokir edges back towards the window he entered by, ready to rappel back down and retrace their steps back to the starport. <Pointed Actual to Crew--emergency evac, code red.>

They are coming. Rattling scraping sounds come along the hallways. Towards the fresher, further down from the charnel hallway. A shrieking sound that blends like a canine wailing sound. Hunting cries. That Lokir can hear through the window he's opened.

Fast moving shadows are visibly distant down the closest hall, many arms, few legs, attached to ceiling, wall, and floor as they come. When one shrieks, another answers. One of those suddenly coming from the window when Lokir is near - keen eyes and instincts spotting the scything blade like hand that swings in, attempting to spear him through the neck.

Close enough for him to feel the blunted edge touch a shoulder pauldron.

Close enough to see the massive silver-blue eyes, light absorbing black skin, and rows of conical teeth when it's open mouth swings in to view, snapping shut just before his chest.

"Heavens," Vhe says in something like surprise as the lights paint the image of the gruesome view. It will forever be seared into her memory and this she is not grateful for. It is Lokir however that breaks her worry when she hears what he has to say. She needs to move. THEY need to move. "We have to get back out the way we came." She declares to all as the red lights pain thtem all as if they were drenched in the visceral scene themselves. She turns back around and stepping out she lifts her saber up and steps out, the hallways jammed with creatures and thus their way out needs to be cleared. Thrusting her free hand forward the force is propelled as she wills it and slams into four, throwing them back and clearing the way for them - presently. That is likely not to last.

"GO! They are coming now...the way is clear for the moment!"

Mandl *scrambles,* doughy scientists not needing to be told twice! "Go, go! Back to the ship!"

<<Kriff.>> Marz states eloquently when the lights flicker on and she gets to look around. <<Ah...yeah...we'll be going.>> she agrees with Vhe. Because she's not dumb! She backs out of the refresher, into the hall again and there's a look to Mandl and Nerys, her hand motioning back towards the door they came in, <<What she said.>> she nods towards Vhe. Once the woman has telekinetcally does her thing, the violet lightsaber weilding woman casts out her hand and there is a spray of lightning that is starting to tinge reddist purple hits one of the ones that had came around a corner. It flops over, momentarily stunned and it makes a few others back off. Which might give them some time.

Nerys cursed, though, thankfully, it was to herself, and not across the comms as the light brought death on swift wings. Swift feet? Whatever, bad movie reference. She swung around, moving with the grace of long practice, as she tore after Vhe, trying to get through the hole the Jedi had made while she still could. Anyone who could understand Binary might catch words in the squeal of sound that trailed after Belate as he rolled for the exit, 'Wasn't meeeee!'. Nerys was not far behind him, as she secured her sword and replaced her bowcaster in her hands, ready to shoot her way out if she had to. She'd clear a hole for the group some kind of way.

Lokir doesn't flinch as the alien claw scrapes his pauldron. Almost on instinct, his blaster is levelled at the predator's maw. A quick double tap, and the smoking hunk that was attempting spear him folds like a squashed, blackened banana. "This armor was new..." Lokir mutters to himself. Padding quietly out towards the window, Lokir tries to keep a low profile, alert for any more ambushes as he prepares to...tactically retreat.

Flung and electrocuted by powers beyond the ken of 'normal' sentients - like absences in existence, cut from the cloth of reality - the flung creatures bounce and skitter and the one enveloped by voltaic cloak seems like a null point in sight that causes vision to blur because it's form is picked out by the current and by how it does not reflect. But the way is clear enough for the group to get to the doors - that Mandl may have difficulty with quick exit due to his armor.

Above the gore sprayed over Lokir is contrast to the body it came from - glowing white like phosphorus ignited. Picking him out in the dark as more creatures begin scrabbling along the walls outside, headed for the portal of his immediate escape.

<<"This is Hadrix - you sure kicked a swarmer-nest...">> the sound of ship-grade weaponsfire echoes distantly outside the door and in comms, <<"Lokir - your ship is up and I'm trying to keep things clear. Be advised.">>

They are all at least coordinated enough as it would seem and as they get to the exit she turns about. "GO! I will help hold them off." Vhe is fixated on the incoming threat and as she make them out, lit by her saber and moving to draw attention she reaches out her hand and uses the force once more to stop and even push back their approach. Her feet slick from the goop and viscera she slides a bit but keeps her place to one side of the opening as the group of four starts their much needed exit. She struggles, warring with physics using a natural power that can not be seen. Which shall win?

Mandl *slides* past the doorway, through skill or (more likely) hours of determined practice and-- possibly(?) having very few hard bones. To the ship! They *power-waddle!*

Nerys, despite the fact that she was, indeed, beating feet, was not about to leave the team behind. And so, even as she got clear, she brought her weapon up, sighting across the tarmac they had to cross, fully intent on putting the fear of science into these things, <<This is worse than the flesh raiders.>> She sighted one who seemed to be trying to crawl out of the open window and jump on Lokir from above, a red bolt exploding from her caster and zinging across the distance to explode the creature into its component parts, limning its fellows in that phosphorescent blood. She didn't bother to rejoice, she just looked for another target.

Lokir bravely puts as much distance as possible between himself and the glowing, sharp-limbed beasts. A deep roar is audible in the air. Linking up with rest of the group, Lokir sends a green blaster bolt or two wildly back towards the window....only for the entire building to shudder in flame. <Pointed actual--you have evac.> The gleaming YT-2400 swoops down from above, drifting into a relaxed hover as the twin sets of dual blaster cannons continue to pount the flaming charnel house of horror. <All aboard---free transport to the spaceport. Keep all limbs inside the rescue ship at all times--and all those...wierd creatures out of interior holds, please!>

Those with better vantage points might have seen the telltale flash of a concussion missile leaving its tube and burying itself into the structure. Those with mediocre hearing can still hear the shrieks of the alien creatures being subject to flame in the resulting wreckage.

A ship close by to provide escape, fire and flames shaking the old habitat building - chaos and creatures some injured, some dead, tumbling to the ground or floors of corridors for it. Six arms and two legs with massive jaws charging. Three fingered hands and sweeping scythe claws a swirl seeking blood and sinew - the odd coating of their bodies causing searing pain for those are contacted. Their numbers legion and the ship only able to hold back so many.

But there is hope in sight to get out of the middle of this living nightmare in the shape of a ramp held half-open until the absolute last moment.

Vhe finally gets her footing just as the first sqipe gets her, scoring down her back and tearing into her robes. She makes a sound as the contact is made, causing more pain than damage. She lets out a sound, gritting her teeth as she sees Nerys take another strike. Even as she continues to run she reaches out to thrust the force in his direction. Her fingers curl and up lifts the woman in her armor. With a focused attention she delivers her towards the ship and through the air, well past the attacks and any other threats onto the ramp. She grunts but seems to find a rather soft landing for her with the great control. "Got one..." she says, but its slowed her down a tad.

Mandl does, to their credit, search for any further injuries before deciding with species-wide pragmatism to get the Bith out of Dodge-- they scurry as fast as their well-armored hide can move back to the safety of the hangar!

Marz was about to break off and help Nerys, but, Vhe has the woman and there's a moment she almost looks over her shoulder to see if she can see things. But she doesn't. "Don't look back! Get to the ship!" she states over the comms. They just needed to get the hell off of this rock and maybe blow it up? It was a thought.

Nerys was nothing if not pigheaded and she did not run as quickly as she might ahve done otherwise, partly because of the slashing of razor claws to her leg and partly because she did not leave anyone behind! But there were days, many days, when Nerys really should try to remember that she was an archaeologist and not a hero. Well, maybe she was a little hero, but not a Big Damned Hero, and one of the creatures rushed out, claws slicing across her chest and nearly lifting the woman from her feet. Whatever pleas Nerys was making, which might have included just wanting to get back to the ship, never came. And then, into the mix, the //real// Big Damned Hero, whomever it was, she couldn't see, and she was lifted from her feet, an invisible hand wrapping around her, and tossing her towards the ship. And in the middle of the fear, and the pain, and the fear, because that needed to be said twice, there was a part of Nerys that yelled, 'This is the coolest thing ever!' Because it was. And then she was on the ship, landing on her back as the hand and her belt brought her to earth. Belate, of course, who looked out for number one was already inside, chittering away, 'Take HiBall, take HiBall! I want to go home!'

Lokir smiles beneath his mirrored faceplate as his veteran crew spits death at the beasts nipping their heels. <Aces, bring us home! Case--get ready to raise the ramp. Splash and Boom--keep up the fire.> Pleased with the performance of his crew and armaments, Lokir begins to take broader strides, a pep in each heart-pounding step. Vhe reaches the boarding ramp of the Pointed Exchange a few seconds before Lokir. She is greeted by an irate black and red R2 unit, booping about how she is not his master. The droid calms down once Lokir takes a final, predatory leap onto the gangway, smoothly slamming the emergency close button as the creatures roar in frustration at their escaping prey. Shaking his head, Lokir slowly begins to catch his breath. "Alderaan...was definitely...the wrong...target..."

As the ships lift off, with the light absorbing horde at their heels, a shrieking is lifted by the beasts, one by one, joining in a nightmare choir. Too many. But escaped from for now.

The near century old colony city a husk of memory. What memories besides blood and horror are contained? Perhaps something worthwhile for exploration, and caution, in the future for others too curious for their own good.