Log:First Order: Ride to Ruin

First Order: Ride to Ruin

OOC Date: September 26, 2019
Location: Korriban
Participants: First Order: Hadrix Rol, Karys, and Saanvi; Knights of Ren: Dreman Bryce, Oran Arcantael, Erisi Auslese, Ravelyn, and Kylo Ren

The scene amid the crushing heat of the sun and the dusty air is a familiar one; their shuttle, settled on the parched earth next to a derelict frigate downed in some long-ago conflict, half-buried in the sand, one of hundreds of fallen ships embedded in this dead world's surface. A darkness emanates from the wreck, a power and a fury that the Supreme Leader's followers have come to recognize.

"She's here," Kylo tells the others as he strides back through the ship from the cockpit towards the landing ramp, the cape around his shoulders dragging behind him, a simple tunic covering his body, helmet held in his hand. "It's her this time. She knows we're coming."

The landing ramp spews hot gases and steam from the belly of the shuttle, a function of the hasty disembarking circumventing a few pressure-relieving processes as the man in black stomps down through the haze onto the sand, headed directly for the yawning rift in the side of the wreckage, the same one they'd entered five months prior.

Turning to move at escort flank, each step accompanied by a hard clunk of durasteel boots and the hiss of hydraulics accentuating each of his steps, Hadrix raises his flamer now that they're entering a potential combat zone.

<<"Vanguard, chevron flank, on the five or seven of a knight or the Supreme Leader.">> rasped over squad comms as he begins cycling vision modes and disable night-vision on this sun drenched sand pit.

"And we know she's here, so ...we'll be ready." Says the armless wonder who has a new arm, all fancy and appropriate for a Knight of Ren, which is to say expensive and hard to spot as a cybernetic arm. Erisi wears her tailored robes that are cinched around the waist with some fancy dark red belt, ornately embroidered hood which is pulled forwards, the heat. Well, the heat helps her glow. With sweat almost as soon as the shuttle door opens, though she braided her hair back today and pinned back those bangs so she maintains an aura of coolness. Striding forwards she tucks hands into her pockets, hips swaying right and left before she thinks better of the hands in pockets and untucks them to press them instead to her hips as she does her imperial stride. She's tripped once and regretted it. New arm? Try new teeth.

To her feet she rises, helmet in hand as the Supreme Leader walks past with his utter proclamations upon his lips. Eyes follow him for a moment, stark and brilliant blue before they tick back to Saanvi and finally Hadrix. Whatever she is thinking is kept to herself before her expressions are soon hidden by the press of her helmet down over her features. The click of it sealing into place sounds out as she turns with an efficient dip of her head towards Hadrix.

The gunslinger is ready - once more. Whenever are they not? The Vanguard are always quick to pull themselves together and follow orders. She checks her pistols and then moves to take up position as instructed. <"KS-0218 ready."> She moves then to draw closer to Dreman as instructed to pick a knight, an inclination of her head as the progression departs the Shadow.

Oran's face is shadowed as he uses the cowl of his hooded to gain a small measure of protection from the sun. Is it effective -- maybe yes, probably not as much as he might hope. "This is an enemy who took from us a star destroyer and eighty thousand good man and women that we were obliged to kill by our own hand," the Coruscanti knight reminds those following Kylo out through the desert, "Ruanna has done to us worse than has the war itself, recently. Do not forget the Predator. Do not misjudge the danger of this enemy. If you don't feel hate and anger toward this creature, find it -- because you should."

Ravelyn is here, the stoic, armored figure that they've all come to know and... love? Probably not. But the knight is familiar at least, and usually fights on their side. It's something. Erisi is afforded a glance at her remark. "Will we?" A shrug follows, and then the knight turns to follow along in Kylo's footsteps.

Saanvi brings up the rear as she so often does, one hand fiddling to double-check straps and pouches of her hideously special utility medical vest she wears over her armor while her other hand eases her weapon from it's holster, <<Medic in left flank rear.>> She chirps in a tone that says she's preoccupied but present physically.

Behind them, lingering in the comfort of a shadow at the back of the shuttle, was Bryce. He could sense the presence Kylo indicated, though he didn't struggle to seek it out. As he steps into the sun behind them, the half-mask does little to help shield his face from the dust and wind. Instead, he maneuvers a large, winding cloth around his neck into place. A soft, haunting kind of sound picks up with the wind as it carries along the bone carvings attached to Bryce's armor.

Stepping into the shadows of the opening, Kylo lifts his helmet and drops it down over his head, sealing into place with a whirring of servos and a hiss. The wind is at their backs, blowing sand into the breach and whistling through a thousand tiny holes in the hull. Inside, light filters down from those same holes in the walls and ceiling, casting the outlines of what was once a hangar bay in soft relief, and littered with tangled, twisted piles of metal that once plied the skies themselves. This time there is little mystery to solve; they know who they are looking for.

A voice, rich and mellow despite its cold underpinnings, rings down from no particular direction. "And so, we come full circle; back to where we started, aren't we? And you brought Bryce with you, what a surprise," the speaker chuckles, a throaty, genuine laugh. "I half expected one of you would be dead by now. He never really got over her, you know. Something you two have in common. Lots of talk about letting things go, but... not much to back it up."

"Come out," Kylo's modulated voice replies, the electronic layers muting the way it seethes. "Come out and finish this."

"Why should I? Your people are more filled with doubt than ever. Just waiting for you to fall to pieces and bring the whole thing crashing down. All I have to do is wait."

Oran's reminder of recent events and their costs creates a swelling in Hadrix. A pit of hatred born from misplaced guilt. Rage. The core of him fulminating a bloom of hate that threatens to overwhelm the chains of tightly maintained control. But could anyone notice such emotions in the force, in this blasted land?

The voice cuts through his thoughts immediately and again he is tested against himself. The growl rattles in Hadrix's ribs, through corded neck and through his nostrils, just loud enough to engage his squad comms. The organic eye, the one that still has a lid, goes wide as the bionic as the trooper looks, the massive helm of the armor snapping one way and another - vision moods switching to heat - trying to find shapes in the heat.

"Of course, Ravelyn. Whether we are ready for our own deaths or hers. We know it's coming, and so does she. It's just a matter of who's death comes first." Said as the voice begins to ring down upon them, Eri drawing her hood back to look up and around with a slight look of annoyance which no doubt hides the fear and anger welling up in her belly, "You are so /boring/ with this womprat and akkdog chase." Right hand twirls up into the air as she continues to search with those hazel peepers, upper lip dewing with sweat, nose a veritable multi-faceted working of droplets, like the many eyes of a spider, none of which help her, "We have been to the depths of fire and back, spare us the theatrics."

Karys feels nothing but the voice is enough a clue when she finally speaks. The silence from the gunslinger is only broken by the slow lift of her head and scan about their current position, the slow measured rise of her adrenaline as her body readies for what is likely to come - again. It never ends well for her and she's likely to spend more quality time with Saanvi in the near future.

Her hand does not rise alone but rather draws her pistol from its holster and aims it upwards. "There," is what she says, simple and loud enough to direct attention towards the glint of light off a pair of eyes. "Contact spotted."

The other holster is drawn free easily from her side and readied. Never once was the though of stun even considered.

Falling to pieces. Crashing down. Doubt. It sinks in like black mold around the corners of good intentions and even the purest belief in the cause. In the leader. Is anyone really immune? Is this the best man to bring Order? Is this the best way, or will everything go up in helpless, unstoppable flames, as though foreshadowed by the death of the ill fated RSD? If Oran has these doubts in Kylo and the cause, he doesn't voice them. But he doesn't seem to have any confident quips like Erisi does, either.

'Contact spotted' from Karys is a welcome distraction and he reaches out as though to grab whatever she saw and drag it into the light. Perhaps shocking to everyone, this actually succeeds, and a figure dressed in black, rich robes is dragged unceremoniously out before Kylo's group. Without a helmet, this person is a fairly average-looking woman with tan skin and short brown hair, cropped above shoulder length, in her late 20s. "Time is up," Oran 'greets' her. "No more games, no more /waiting/."

"I was thinking more along the lines of being prepared than a willingness to embrace death should it come knocking, but I grasp your meaning," replies Ravelyn, but then there's another voice. An annoyingly familiar voice that has haunted them far too many times at this point not to grate on the nerves. By the time Ravelyn spots the contact at Karys' direction, Ruanna is already being carried over by Oran. "Does anyone else feel like that was too easy?" asks the knight while pulling free her lightsaber.

Saanvi lifts her pistol and scans the periphery and sees nothing. When Oran drags a subject forward she spares a glance but keeps her weapon lifted outward-prepared for any foes not well contained by a knight.

Bryce didn't like being pointed out, for any reason. He liked it even less alongside a smugness that far exceeded the weight class of the individual involved. It isn't anger that wells up within him, however. Rage was never his strength, but emptiness was. She was masked--Hidden from him, and for some reason this causes him to smirk. Then, they're face to face with the younger girl. Did she always look so young? For a moment Bryce worried they were all just children playing with toys of inconceivable value.

"Be a good sister and fall back in line," Bryce says quietly, "You know as well as me what happens when our Master sets me to task." His words were ice, chilling in their finality. Anuesana's lightsaber is slipped free and brought to bear. The frost of the weapon, under the Korriban heat, mirrors the surface before the crimson light erupts. Perhaps she remembered his secret--Or perhaps she simply gleaned it from the Force itself, but Bryce wondered if she saw the fate of the poor follower that drew the killing stroke.

While his followers identify the source of the voice and drag her out into the open, Kylo stands very still, the cape that hangs around his shoulders stirring faintly in the intermittent gusts of wind that come funneling in through the breach in the side of the ship. "No." It's one word, flat and simple. "There is no falling back into line. This is its end." The lightsaber on his belt finds its way into his gloved hand, and the unstable blades come ripping forth with their usual intensity.

"Impressive, the small one is learning," Ruanna chuckles again. "And I'm so glad you agree," she continues, her face shifting into a wicked smile as she tugs herself free of Oran's grasp, the black robes and armor that she wears an eerie facsimile of those the Knights favor. The weapon that she pulls from her robes snaps into life with a red glow, uncurling with an audible crack as she snaps it above her head, a long line of curving, curling plasma.

This seems to be a signal of some sort, as numerous others dressed in similar black clothing emerge from the shadows where they've been waiting, red-painted vibroblades, black robes, and sinister black armor with military-grade black rifles.

Talking. Always the talking! As the servants of the enemy come out, Hadrix's arm raises - pilot lights igniting and then the iridescent river spirals into the air. Coiling towards the enemy and cutting through the shadow like a knife of molten gold.

<<"Weapons free focus fire cut them down - no heroes just wipe them out!">> 904's voice cuts over comms even as his assault goes wide of his mark, his arm shaking for the fury that could burst through flesh like too much water against the skin of a balloon.

"I'm glad you do, Rav, because at this point in my life I'm not even quite sure I know what I'm saying 90% of the time. Just this tiny feeling in my bones, you know, and it erupts out of my mouth." Said in confidence, out loud, to Ravelyn, Eri's lips dropping to a lopsided sort of smile as she exhales out just as those clad figures step out of the shadows, "Oh good, she brought company. Sands forbid she not be a complete pain in - sorry. SORRY." Eri says suddenly as she follows Hadrix's lead, raising up dem hands, cybernetic one flicking fingers through the air and sets aflame the individual he was trying to mow down, "I didn't mean to talk about you like you weren't here ....sands forbid ~you~ not be a complete arsehat." A look of satisfaction at said cybernetic hand, Eri whispering, "Good job, Go-bot." Satisfaction. Brief. Woman readying herself for another volley.

The whole situation unfolds in slow motion at first and then suddenly everything slams into forward motion. They are outnumbered really if one counts but there is no time to actually do that. As Hadrix tries to light up a target and Erisi bringing up the try to a success. One pistol is lifted and aimed, a deadly shot released to end the first soldier before her other sweeps up and hits the second. The next several shots are all disappointments, forgotten moments later when she lands on again upon her secondary target.

<"Contact down, contact injured,"> she remarks in an effort to keep communication open as she takes up a defensive position.

Oran endures yet another member of the ENTIRE GALAXY clowning on his stature with the irritated patience of a man whose 'never gonna be 6 foot' meltdown is now many years in the past, and draws his saber. It's a snap-hiss and a familiar crimson hum, and he's watching the red blades afoot here warily even as Erisi and Karys start to bring the pain. "Well, once more into the breach, then."

Saanvi steps back a bit, trying to track multiple targets and briefly seeming uncertain which to shoot before committing and firing off a couple of rounds. Fortunately everyone else is too busy to notice neither shot came particularly close to harming any of the many foes approaching.

"She always brings company," Ravelyn asides to Erisi as others emerge from the darkness to join in the fray. There's a sigh, mostly unheard amid the rest of the ruckus. Before any of them are close enough to attack, a gloved hand raises and an unseen force crashes brutally into one of the warriors, sending him careening into a wall. "Once more, indeed." With that, she depresses the button on the saber and adds to the eerie red glow that fills the space.

Emptiness is all that can be sensed from Bryce, as Kylo's words end any chanc of parley. This was no longer a mission; it was an extermination. The ever-cold, gleaming lightsaber in Bryce's hand rises defensively as one might expect him to put on an elaborate show of martial prowess, and he will, later. At the last second, however, his left shoulder drops and a crimson explosion of crackling energy flies from his fingertips towards the other trained Force user he could sense. It was Dark. The deepest kind of darkness they could muster, commanded from Bryce's fingertips.

The ruined hangar is filled with shades of black and red, glowing and static, flying and stable. Karys's pistols, Hadrix's fire, Saanvi's shots, the lightsabers, the red vibroblades, the dim lighting has been largely replaced by the red undercurrent flooding the floor.

The flexible blade of Ruanna's whip snakes out towards Kylo, snapping over his head, but the dark warrior finally moves into action, slipping beneath it as he moves to close the distance with her, a powerful punch of the Force extending off of a literal punch of his fist towards her that sends the woman flying backwards a few feet to knock against one of the snarls of metal that used to be a starfighter.

Meanwhile the melee combatants charge in, one still smoking from the red lightning that wreathed his body from head to toe just a moment prior, and dull red blades come to bear with deadly intent, a persistent hum emitting from their vibro-cores. Each of them carries multiple blades, a precaution against the saber-wielding foes.

And just the same, the stormtroopers' mirrors open fire, moving from cover to cover just as the Vanguard do, making use of the rubble to shelter themselves.

A pain in his left leg, numbed at first before building into agony as he feels his femur heat, flex-steel pushed in by the blast knifing through sinew as it melts and melds with him. There's something like a roar as he goes down to his knees, left hand a fist as it craters into the ground to keep him upright.

<<"Push! Burn them down!">> Hadrix snarls, teeth bared as he feels his limb screaming from the damage dealt it. Flamer lifted and swung to bear the black armor becomes like a sunset over an oil slick as he opens fire, literally, spraying over his form and turning him into a bonfire.

"What a pain in the bloody arse --" Erisi states, just before she's catching a blade to her upper left leg/hip. A really annoyed howl erupts from her throat, "Pick a bloody different side, PLEASE." Called out, the blade cutting in through to her left hip, cybernetic hand slapping down onto it to try and stem the bleeding, but she bleeding good. Like, real good. So good in fact a pool of blood is already making it's way down and into the boot. She tries, tries her best to light the air on fire, but naught a spark erupts, the small arsed woman breathing heavily as she tries to light the flames of her anger even higher to keep herself going.

Karys is moving along the targets as the other forces begin to achieve cover as the vanguard is attempting to do as well. She breathes in and is carefully moving along them and taking aim when one slams a bolt against the side of her helmet. The searing accuracy breaks through the black helmet and partial edge of her visor along her left side. As it pentrates through the armor and cracks it open the heat brings with it the smell of burning hair and skin. A cry of pain escapes her as Karys side steps and quickly lets loose another volley as her right eye tries to focus on the targets. By luck one of her shots hits one of the soldiers, not really sure which.

The seal of her helmet is broken and the sound of her breathing can be heard by those of her near her.

The victim of Ravelyn's earlier telekinesis falls easy prey to a swing of Oran's saber, but there's no time to gloat over the pieces of smoking body tumbling down to the floor -- there is no shortage of enemies here, and keeping himself out of harm's way with ducking and sidestepping the second warrior occupying his immediate vicinity leaves no joy in a counter attack there. He's drawn nearer to Ravelyn, maybe safety in numbers there, to guard her back as she chops and strikes. "I can't believe you called me poor," he announces over the sound of battle, like this is the right time to unpack Dromund Kaas.

Ravelyn watches as Oran finishes off one of the warriors, and then whips around to focus on another, one dangerous slash cutting through the air and hitting nothing, followed by a second that is just as successful. There's a sound that follows Oran's remark, a humorless bark of laughter that melds into an angrier sound as a third slash of the weapon in her hands slices into one of the warriors. "What else should I have said to antagonize you?" is asked, a glance thrown over her shoulder to look back at Oran briefly. "I could have called you ugly, but we both know you would never believe me if I did."

Saanvi is close enough to her creche mates she sees them each go down but she may or may not have noted Erisi's own grim state. She fires off a few quick shots to create some cover for herself <<Medic inbound, Priority patient: eighteen.>> she informs. As soon as those shots are issued the pistol is jammed into it's holster and makes her way to Karys.

As 'The Apprentice' advances, Bryce dips into a low stance before leaping suddenly. A rising foot arcs to slow the attacker before, as he settles, a powerful overhand attack comes from Bryce's lightsaber. The vibroblade catches it easily and the apprentice offers a groan. Before the Apprentice can return an assault, another attack is parried away by the laser-edged blade. Another attack is ducked around, and Bryce follows the attack through with an acrobatic roll. He didn't quite seem to be losing the fight--He just wasn't succeeding like he wanted. Had his wayward sister from the academy trained this knifesmith?

The battle wears on, with both sides trading hits, though as it continues, the Vanguard and the Knights of Ren slowly turn the tide, cutting down Ruanna's servants one by one. Circling around Oran and Ravelyn, the two blade-wielders work in tandem, darting in on quick feet to try to catch one of the Knights off guard, but their efforts are fruitless. Nearby, Ruanna's apprentice continues his dance with Bryce, breathing heavily behind the mask as he works overtime to stay out of reach of that lightsaber, barely time to counterattack at all between stepping back, plunging aside, anything he can do to stay one step ahead of the volley.

The dark-armored soldiers adopt another Vanguard tactic: focus fire. The two still floating from cover to cover hone in on Hadrix after he roasts one of their comrades alive, barraging the Stormtrooper with blaster-fire and ignoring the medic and her charge.

Meanwhile, Ruanna's whip lashes out at Kylo once more, but wraps itself around the spitting red blade of his saber, flashes of light reflecting from the chrome of his mask. She's not smiling now, and abruptly a hand reaches out with a sudden swelling of that dark power, her face twisting into a savage snarl.

Something, somewhere, snaps, and all hell breaks loose.

The frigate itself lurches forward, sending up a massive cloud of gritty dust, jolting everyone inside as it groans under the shifting weight, pulling free of its burial mound and beginning to slide down from its place atop a long incline of desert earth, moving slowly at first but it's clear that it will rapidly gain speed.

Still down, Hadrix continues to geyser immolation towards the soldiery of this Ruuana. Teeth bared within his helm as his good leg plants on the floor and he pushes himself up, the left functioning more by way of the suit supporting him

Blaster bolts pelt him, disbursal mesh becoming hot enough to sear the man within the armor as plates slough away, melting and bursting, running like candle wax as he starts towards them. A death march Karys thought of it as, once, crimson energy bolts pierce through the swirling cone of molten flame, and one carries the fire with it, melting away armor and soaking Hadrix's arm in pain.

Howling he keeps up his barrage, cutting the legs from one of his assailants the line of his assault like a hot wire through foam, sending the poor sot to the ground where their head and back is coated by the burst of plasma.

Swallowed by the cloud of grit and dust one Erisi finds herself after a moment of confusion, on the ground, splayed out on her left side. Pushing up onto her elbow she dizzily looks around, coughing a few times with a lady-like spit of grit onto the ground, "What the ..." Briefly, for what seems like a long time in Eri years, she doesn't quite recall where she is, why she is, and what is, other than a swelling pit of anger rising in her gut. A swelling one. Not yet anywhere useable, like a child about to throw a fit but who isn't quite committed yet to the idea. Reaching out with her right hand towards a figure in the still churning dust she'll try to light it on fire. But nada. A grunt of frustration and a tuck of her chin down towards her chest and the Knight begins to drag herself a little closer. Maybe that'll help.

Inbound. That is what Karys hears on the disjointed hiss of her internal comms. It is not working properly and she quickly lifts her hand to toss the helmet to the floor JUST as the whole ship rocks and groans ominously into motion.

The ground being rude as it is want to be rushes up to meet her and she slams into her hip and then shoulder as she lifts one pistol to squeeze off rounds before it clicks with a deafening silence that is eaten up quickly by the rumbling movement of the ship. "Kriff.." she coughs out.

She is quickly trying to reload both guns and fumbles as she lays there. THe left side of her face is burned and her hair melted some and crisped up along her temple. She can feel how bad it is and the sweat upon her brow accompanies the slight shake that her movements take on not just from the sudden movement of the vessel.

"I wouldn't have believed you regardless, but poor is the more galling epithet than ugly," Oran continues his mid-fight chat with Ravelyn, "On account of the fact that no one cares how ugly you are, so long as you've got enough money. Rude. Just terribly rude." Skewering him through the ribcage with the weapon she's now using to cut apart Ruanna's allies was probably rude as well, but it's somehow not the point Oran is hung up on. He might have gone on with the airing of grievances, but then the world shifts, with obscene, grotesque creaks of metal and tortured ship-carcass. Oran keeps his balance and lops off an unwary head, but his tone has changed as he breathes, "Ohh, no, this is... all rather going downhill, isn't it."

"I wasn't aiming to be kind," Ravelyn reminds Oran as he points out precisely how rude the remark was, participating in what is probably an ill-advised middle of battle chat about the complicated turn their last trip took. One of those circling warriors takes a swipe at her, and she swings up her lightsaber to block the attack, following that up with three rapid, angry slashes through the air that the warrior manages to evade. "How is that what you're more put out by?" she asks, but then things change, head turning to look up at the impending danger. "Did you really just say that?" she asks of Oran.

Saanvi had been moving towards Karys but then there's all moving. She hastily shifts her position and kneels to snag Karys, <<Casualties please hold firm, MEdic in route.>> She then proceeds to patch up Karys as best as she can <<Treating eighteen. Next patient oh four.>>

ryce could sense the sudden shift, and his footwork changes to prepare for a narrow escape. But he had something he needed to get over, first. A broad overhead attack is parried low and away from the body of the Apprentice, and the sidesweep is blocked. Bryce applies strength to unbalance the Apprentice, before he dips forward. In a quick movement of his hand, the lightsaber is tossed around the Apprenticer's back. Bryce's feet carry him forward behind the Apprentice in a slippery acrobatic move, before the hilt is caught, and a final backwards thrust pierces the Apprentice through the heart. The lightsaber hangs there a moment as the Apprentice's eyes go wide in terror. Then, the apprentice falls and Bryce levies his gaze on Ruanna. How much time did she waste on him? Backhand lightsaber grip menacing hero pose. Is there suddenly wind in his cloak?

One by one, the challengers continue to fall, even as the wreck of the frigate picks up momentum, hoving its way down the incline, kicking up billows of dust in an enormous column around the ship. Metal groans loud enough to be heard over the din of the downward movement itself, and to make matters worse, the front end of the ship shears away, falling behind in an impressive mound of sand while the main body slides on, exposing the tiny passengers to the air and the view of an impending collision with another derelict capital ship further on down the slope.

With her expression still carved into a bitter scowl, Ruanna battles through the rush of air and dust to turn the length of her weapon on Ravelyn instead, lashing out with the curling ribbon of hot death towards the armored Knight.

Kylo, on the other hand, stands back now, looking between the new rift through which he can see the other ship lying ahead, and Ruanna as she attacks his students, wind absolutely in his cloak though his expression is hidden by the mask.

Shaking, shifting, every step on his left leg is daggers in his nerves. His right arm is singing, and then all is bright sky and wind. The optics of his helmet snapping off of thermal as one hand comes up and he follows with his target system data. <<"Vanguard, eliminate and prep to exfil priority assets!">> is snarled over comms even as a blanket of flame is gifted to one of the remaining foes.

No returns either.

Erisi is not doing too great. Bleeding heavily and still half-crawling her way on her left side to get some semblance of a view to see what's happening, Eri will half-heartedly try to light more things on fire. But nope, with a shaking hand reaching out she tries to focus on the woman who started this all, body jostling as the ship beneath them moves along, making that wound on her leg start to ache something fierce as the initial shock wears off. A small little sparkle that dances across fingertips like a flame licking at the last vestiges of gas before disappearing entirely as Eri drops down to the deck. Splaying out she turns onto her back, trying to regroup, "Okay ..just ..one sec. Just ..oopsie dasie and up we go."

This is not exactly ideal but when is it ever when it comes to their missions? Karys goes still enough as she can but the movement of the ship they are in is enough to likely give something for the medic to contend with. Hissing and gritting her teeth, Karys tenses up her face muscles as she growls out in pain. A strained sound leaves her and as the wound is taken care of and treated as quickly as can be in their circumstance, she keeps a knee to the ground and the other foot pressed into the floor as she centers her blasters again and unleases, vengeance clear in her bright blue eyes now that her helmet is lost somewhere with all the jostling. The one soldier already on fire is slammed direct and falls quickly before she turns her gun upon the warrior and nearly catches him though the rest of her shots go wide.

Hadrix cuts through the haze of pain and want to end the rest of them as he gives sound advice. Her head turns and she grunts, pushing herself up and keeping her weapons at ready.

Ravelyn had asked Oran, 'How is that what you're more put out by?' and it seems to surprise a laugh out out of him, something that's more hopeless catharsis than mirth as the front of their wreckage shears clear away. "It seemed the easier subject to broach in the time we have left, Rave." And that's the end of the chat, maybe the last word that will be said on the matter no matter this outcome, as he neatly chops off another head that tumbles out of the ship and off into the desert, before trying to help Ravelyn with the Ruanna problem -- a problem that so far is beyond either of them. "Erisi, hold on, this is all going to get worse before it gets better," he calls toward the downed firekeeper, while trying not to end up like the warriors he dispatched.

"You make a fair point," Ravelyn replies as she shrinks back enough for a sword swing to slide by, leaving behind nary a scratch on that fine armor of hers. Said warrior loses his head in the literal sense, thanks to Oran, who would get an apprecitive glance were it not for the helmet that stands between them. Another time, because another attack is incoming, which she is spared from by turning her lightsaber to block the attack, sparks flying as the blades meet. The armored knight lets out a wordless, displeased sound and attacks, but Ruaana is better, faster, and each attack is blocked easily.

Saanvi pats Karys's shoulder, <<Eighteen is stable, Medic inbound to Team Lead>> She crabwalks the short distance to Hadric because four contacts with a body in motion and lower center of gravity at an incline are more stable. She squats next to him and as is her patented Field Doc approach there's a quick scan, she wastes no time in identifying the greatest source of leaking red stuff, and proceeds to stop bleeding and bind the wound-but before she can do more there's a shot to her left thigh and that causes her to loose balance and *CRACK* her head against the hard surface she was clinging to. Sure she's got a helmet but that doesn't stop the brain from ricocheting in her skull-and with that she goes rag-doll limp all her beloved medical supplies becoming disorderly in their pouches as clasps are carelessly left open.

As Ruanna begins her attacks anew, with Ravelyn in her sights, Bryce is quick to move. Reaching down, his lightsaber is pulled free and hurled towards Ruanna, who manages to slap it to the floor with a downward strike. By the time Bryce had taken to a dramatic leap, her saber was up and parrying his attacking blows.

Ruanna's sinister lightwhip continues to crack and snap around her, licking out at each of the Knights in rapid succession, an impressive display of prowess even as the ship beneath them continues to accelerate down the slope towards destruction. No wonder she's eluded them thus far.

A short distance further towards the front of the ship, Kylo's lightsaber deactivates and the weapon is clipped to his belt again. A hand reaches out, and another rises alongside it, and his connection to the Force flows through them with all the power he can muster. The helmet hides his squinted eyes and the beads of sweat that run down over his face as the dark warrior channels everything he can into slowing the ship. Tension builds in the atmosphere around him, and the metal walls and ceiling in his vicinity begin to peel away as he pushes back against them. The speed of the wreck's descent steadies but doesn't reverse, and the other downed ship looms ahead.

Closer.

Closer.

Collision.

"I'm holding o--" No she ain't. As the collision occurs Erisi is flung off and aways. A tiny robed figure flying into the air and SPLATTING in against a half-erect viewport of the other ship which is immediately cut off, groaning away to crash down heavily with Ms. Erisi aboard it. She is ..mostly quite dead. A skin-suit for mushy internal bits, a bug squashed on the windshield of fate, twitching and sorta breathing. Death coos? Grunts? No, whisperings of murders not yet having been completed, prayers perhaps. Wishes. Dreams.

Just as she gets to her feet and they are left with the source of their trouble, Karys is about ready to give Ruanna the business end of her barrels when the ship slams into another and the movements stops - but her's does not. Luckily she ducks low and rolls with it, slamming into a piece of the bulkhead with an audible OOMPH as her breah it knocked from her. Still in one piece and likely nothing broken she wheezes in and out and finally her lungs fill.

Breath drawn she groans and pushes to a knee, dizzy still with disorientation.

It's a night for a continuing theme of near death experiences as Ruanna's lightwhip comes way too close for comfort for Oran, slicing up along the side of his neck and opening a burned, bloody gash there. A raw, terribly uncivilized scream of rage follows that, the kind of raw anger that keeps you alive in trying times, but the ship's collision robs him of any chance to retaliate. He's barely got the saber off in time to stow it before he's knocked off his feet, down and out after Erisi and hitting the other wreck shortly after her -- he's unlucky in a landing that pierces him with a spear of rebar sticking out, straight through the lung, like a bug affixed to a specimen board. Getting off the spike involves a disgusting sound like meat sliding off a butcher's counter, and then he bleeds on Erisi while trying to find out how dead she is. Kneeling, he whispers, "No, don't leave me..... with these people."

Amidst the rubble now strewn far and wide and fused together with a totally different wreck, the woman in the black clothing coughs from atop a chunk of mangled durasteel, untangling the deactivated tendrils of her lightwhip from herself as she spits blood out onto the floor. Groaning, she looks around at the others picking themselves up, touching her forehead and feeling something wet and slick. "Do you see...? Do you see what he brought you to? This whole- the whole galaxy, this is... this is how it ends with-" she interrupts herself to laugh. "Where is he? Did he die?" She's on her feet, if barely, leaning heavily on the chunk of metal. "Kylo! Come see your- your broken toys!"

That lightwhip continues to crack dangerously, and Ravelyn's lightsaber is raised and ready to defend against it, but it isn't enough. Wouldn't have been enough. A feral sound rips from her throat, carried through the helmet so that the vocoder emits the angry sound. There is blood seeping down her arm now, it's hard to say if the whip did it or something else. There's a lunge as though she's going to attack again, but she is temporarily detoured away from this vengeance because the ship they are on collides with the other they were sledding down toward, sending her reeling backward off of her feet. Somehow she has the sense to deactivate her lightsaber and tuck, and roll, and though jostled heartily, she lands without injury, and plenty of anger still simmering in her belly.

Ravelyn is quick to recover herself, back on her feet, chest heaving beneath the protective plating as clenches a fist and reaches out with those unnatural senses to take hold of a jagged, makeshift spear ripped from the rubble of the ship, and drive it forward straight into Ruanna, straight through her chest, taking out lungs, perhaps heart, doing enough damage to make it near impossible to come back from.

Bryce rolls to his feet with a quiet grunt. He would have hid it if it didn't burn just a little too much. Figures. Luke had taught them that move long ago--When all else fails, use larger tools. Anuesana's lightsaber is tucked away, before a moment's focus is given and his own flies into hand from where it had fallen at their feet. "And yet, we live, and you've lost. Hope you've learned your lesson, sister," Bryce says, well after Ravelyn had speared her.

Where is he? Did he die?

A panel of the wall adjacent to the chamber they've all ended up in sprouts a juttering red blade that cuts a square and through it Kylo half-falls in with them, his helmet and cape gone, blood on his face, looking drawn and pale, but alive. "It's over," he states hollowly with a swallow, wiping a gloved hand down over his face to smear the sweat and blood and dust away.

Here and there, dead bodies have been tossed into odd locations and postures. Here and there, the battered and beaten Vanguard and Knights have also been tossed into odd locations and postures.

He takes all this in silently for a moment, eyes lingering on Ruanna's frozen stare for a long beat before looking to Ravelyn. "We have to get them up and out. Leave the dead."

It's a victory, but... no one is celebrating. There are no cheers or happy drums. Only the lingering creaks of the wreckage and the whisper of the wind.