Log:First Order: The Cracks Begin to Show

First Order: The Cracks Begin to Show

OOC Date: April 25, 2019
Location: Korriban
Participants: First Order: Kylo Ren, Karys, Hadrix Rol, Drath, and Saanvi; Knights of Ren: Oran Arcantael and Erisi Auslese

The hot sun and dry air are cruel bedfellows. The atmosphere outside the Shadow is unwelcoming and harsh, whipping up the coarse grit from the ground around the feet of the Supreme Leader as he steps down off the landing ramp. "We have work to do," he says simply to the others, leading the way out towards the nearest wreck, carrying his helmet in one gloved hand. "This is not my first visit to Korriban. The last time I was here, we found a few men working in the ruins." There are plenty of ruins to choose from; fallen ships of ancient design hove up from the dust like monoliths in all directions, and in the distance the red mountainsides are carved and hewn, housing long-empty dwellings, temples, and the like.

"We didn't learn who they were working for, but I left something behind if someone should come looking. And they have." His helmet is pulled on, sealing into place with a hiss, and the eyes of his mask turn towards a yawning fissure riven in the side of a derelict frigate, downed in a forgotten conflict maybe centuries earlier. "We are going to find out who and why," Kylo finishes, his voice now harshly amplified as he pauses at the 'entrance' to the ship. The darkness beyond feels more than visual, an uncomfortable pressure issuing out towards them, sensed as a tightness in the chest and queasy sensation in the belly.

Korriban is not populated by any means the reason they are here has yet to be seen though there is obviously something. Karys is settled amongst the rest of the Vanguard as their Supreme Leader outlines their reason for entering the downed ship. Fingers work at the underside of her already applied helmet to make sure it fits securely. She breathes in, hearing the sound of it echoing inside the interior before she makes certain that she is prepared. Once her quick check is done her fingers glide over her pistols and pull them free to rest pointed to the dusty ground beneath her feet.

That uncomfortable feeling does not dissipate causing KS-0218 to shift a little more than usual to try to shake off the sensation of 'wrongness' or rather 'I have a bad feeling about this'. She rolls her shoulders and looks to squad lead for instructions.

Erisi steps down off the ship to follow in behind Kylo, stepping off to the side of the ramp leading down from the ship, hazel gaze lifting to look off to those deserts. The whipping winds cause the woman to grip the edge of her deep hood to draw it over her mouth and nose, a squint continuing her look around. She says nothing, and had said nothing on the trip over, lost in thought. And now she's lost looking off to the grave yards before them.

Stepping down off of the Shadow into the unfortunately harsh environment of Korriban, the sun gleams off of the freshly cleaned black and red armor that encases Drath. There is certainly /no/ trace of guano. None. He's spent numerous hours ensuring that's the case. Reaching behind him as the group treks towards that fissue, Drath removes the maglocked rifle from the back of his belt, bringing it to bear and tilting it to the side to check the charges as they continue in their mission. <<Copy, Supreme Leader. Comm checks.>> the man chirps out over the comms, attempting to keep the feeling that seeps in through the armor itself from getting too him too much. It's not exactly working, with the goosebumps standing up with an irritating rubbing against the plastoid plates of his armor causing a shivering to run up his flesh. But he continues onward. They have a job to do, after all.

Helmet sealed, band visor of the flametrooper style helm seeming to look everywhere within one hundred eighty degrees of his head, Hadrix lumbers just behind Drath, slowed by a weapons check, the 11D on his right arm, T-21 mounted on the left, flamer on its swing arm, sword on his hip. Weaponslocker, check. <<"Comm check, read you clear.">>. He looks about the surroundings, macrobinoculars engaging as he tries to get a sweep of the area.

Oran has been uncharacteristically quiet and inscrutable since arrival to Korriban, arms folded, face shadowed by the cowl of his hood. The whole effect is much less Badass Edgelord and much more Bad Feeling About This, as though this place whispers through the force in some long forgotten language, turn away, turn away, turn away. It's in the sting of the grit in the wind, the burn of the sun, and the shape of the shadows, sharp enough to cut; turn away, turn away, turn away. This is an evil place.

But, then again, these are also evil people.

So here he is, along with the others. There is some side-eye to Erisi, maybe a 'you sensing this sht?' kind of expression, but as yet, no commentary. Just following Kylo, wherever he may lead them, for whatever purpose... toward the ship? Oran closes his eyes briefly... then abruptly balks a little at the threshold. Not enough to stop his progress forward; enough for a saber hilt to appear in hand, though. "Watch your step. Watch your back," the Coruscanti knight advises, "We are not safe here."

There are so many fascinating things to gawk at and admire-this places is unlike any she's seen in her short life and yet that oppressive unease in the air heavy like humidiy has her unusualy focused. Reassuringly she assurs KS "It is an irrational, viseral reaction to the eerie setting no doubt. Fortunately I put my faith in our Supreme leader and the rational laws of the galaxy." she checks her gear and weapons just to be safe.

As they stand there preparing to enter, a gust of hot air blows out from the rift, blasting a breath of sand into their faces, rattling against armor or biting exposed flesh before it fades away just as quickly. Undeterred by this, Kylo steps forward into the breach, and the darkness wraps around him like a second cloak.

Inside the ruin, the only light filters down from holes in the walls and ceiling, dimly revealing the outlines of what was once a hangar bay. The floor is partially covered over by the gritty dust blown in through the hole, and littered with tangled, twisted piles of metal that look like what used to be starfighters if one stares for long enough. The space is not silent; the passage of the wind over the myriad holes creates an unsettling chorus of thin whistling. "This is the place." Kylo's voice holds a faint note of awe not usually present even through the vocoder. "Find them. ...they want to be found." It's a warning.

Find them. The air still flows in from the outside and as Karys turns a waft of air and dust spins up into her view and blurs what is ahead and around of her. Lifting her black gloved hand to her visor she drags her thumb across it to help rid it of a layer or two. Karys is silent on comms as there is nothing to report from her - she's blinded at the moment but is taking up a position so as to continue sweep forward with the others. If she can not see them she will at least try to drive them out by promximity. Someone /is/ here and thus her pistols remain up and ready to fire with the barrels pointed upwards.

Erisi's hood partially blocks her view as the wind batters it in flat against her face, so Oran's sidelong glance to her goes unnoticed as she pries the material from her already sweaty features. The gust of wind that further flings its way into her face forces sand and grit in against her face, ruffling her robes up around her legs and through her arm holes, partially inflating them up around her form.

Hands will press away the hood from her face, wiping across her eyes and cheeks as she follows into the now dark hangar after a few quick steps to not get left behind, and she'll squint through grainy sand to begin looking around. No doubt she could have tried to detect life instead of physically looking, but the harrowing sensation erupting in her belly, no doubt the same Oran referred to, is grating enough on her senses in addition to the sand in her eyes. Hard blinks, Erisi striking off to look where the light dare not go, to the right first.

Once more into the breach, the warm air shudders against Drath's armor, but is ultimately ineffective in stalling him. As the team breaks into that old hangar, the Trooper raises his weapon, a cautious look being given about the area as he slowly steps inside. It's become instinct by now, how he fans out to one side of the Supreme Leader and Knights, keeping his weapon up at an angle from them and ensuring the flanks are well guarded. His comms remain silent on his end as well, indicating his lack of news to report from within. Perhaps if he'd spent as much time examining the scene as he did ensuring the flank is secure...

Moving to the opposite flank as Drath, the only reason Hadrix remains in such a position, until his HUD brackets focus around something and he speaks over comms so as to reduce the risk of outside interference, <<"Lord, tracks">> Hadrix highlights them for his fellow troopers while motioning as if sweeping his plasma flamer to one side, puffing the pilot to illuminate them for the others, <<"Ground opening as well.">> another pooommf of the pilot, showing the descending square of darkness in the cut into the grit of the floor. All the while his head looks over and around, as if scanning the walls.

"Here. A hatch." Oran studies said hatch for a moment before eying the nearest Vanguard troopers; in this case Saanvi and Hadrix. "You agree it's been recently opened, yes?" he requests verification from the other two, before peering back at the hatch. "We have cables or something, do we not? Something to lower through the aperture in order to..." Oran trails off, and either he's decided they do not in fact possess the relevant equipment, he's seen something he wants to go after... or his patience just ran out. "I'm going in." He clips the saber to his belt, clambers down, dangles a moment, and then drops. It's fine. It'll be fine.

Saanvi knees and inspects briefly "Yes, the dust and sediment's been disturbed and there is no unifrorm layer of dust over." she rise and dusts her hands off on her pants "Astute observation, sir." She peers down into the hatch "Who should we send down first?"

Following the sounds of discovery, Kylo is hot on Hadrix's tail and after Oran vanishes into the hatch to the level below, he follows after. There is none of that careful clambering, though, just a step off and drop straight to the floor, avoiding the other man in whatever condition the fall has left him (hint: suboptimal).

It is even darker down here, and his masked face cranes up towards the square light of the hatch above. "Come down," he orders, leaving the interpretation of /how/ up to the others. They're adults, they can figure it out. There's no ladder or anything similar in view, however.

Karys is not ready for this climb, not in the slightest and she quickly reholsters her pistols and makes sure they are secure. She steps forward at the command to come down and leans over to get a look. She narrows her gaze inside her helmet and tries to affect the best method and instead of jumping deigns that it is likely best to climb down. Which certainly proves to be wrong in the end. Hindsight. KS-0218 begins to lowers herself, one hand after then other as she tries to ease her way down but her foot slips and she rolls back suddenly, feeling nothing but air.

It's as strange sensation when your stomach already queasy from the strange atmosphere drops out with the fear that rises from free falling. She lands on some rubble with an audible <<"OOPH...">> and a crunching sound. All seems to be well enough as a moment later she rolls to her side and pushes up with a faint heaved groan she tries to cut off with a grit of her teeth. She winces and leans forward a bit, reaching a hand to her armored back with a light pat. She slowly, very slowly has to straighten.

Erisi used to sit in her crappy little office in Ko Hentota somewhere between that and the undercity, nestled neatly between heating pipes that led to housing complexes, toasty warm on the coldest days. While most days were by some people estimation 'boring', she was cozy and relatively safe while doing jobs requiring slicing and dicing of computer systems. She had friends. Or what she considered friends, a pretty good credit flow. And now she was looking down a dark maw after being told to 'jump'. Awe-some. She could have just taken death back then when she was 'recruited' by Kylo.

But nope. She's jumping into holes, never having jumped in her life previous to this save for over and through puddles, "Great." Murmured to herself, Erisi sitting down on her butt on the edge of the space, legs dangling over, her eyes closing as she simply scoots over and lets gravity do the rest. After what seems to be ages she lands, hard, twisting her right ankle badly, but ..not a peep out of her. Not a whimper. Not a whisper of a curse. Nothing. Just a soft 'snap' that comes unbidden from the ankle, but it's a closed fracture and not completely through the bone, so ...she can walk.

She had somehow twisted in the air and is facing a wall, bracing herself against it as her ankle swelled to a gratuitous size within her boot, and takes but a moment before forcing herself to turn and move, carefully, to join the Supreme Leader. Her posture is ramrod straight, chin lifted, the woman finally looking the nobility she comes from, jaw tight, hazel eyes set. Ooh, this doesn't feel cool but she ain't letting on.

Drath watches as Oran jumps on down that hole, the Trooper turning his attention back out to the perimeter for a moment as he gives it another scan. Nothing appears to be moving, though that's not exactly surprising, considering they're possibly the only ones here. As such, Drath takes a moment to toggle the safety on his rifle, and stepping over to the hatch, tilts his head over it to gaze down into the darkness. First Karys goes, then Erisi goes, and then Drath tilts his arms back to tuck his rifle against his chest.

Taking a step over the side, plastoid composite boots hit the floor first, collapsing as Drath rolls forward onto his knees, over his weapon, and up into a kneeling state as his rifle is tugged back into position and his helmeted head scans the new environment they've found themselves in. That wouldn't have went nearly as well if it wasn't for his training. <<I'm clear. Everyone okay?>>

Following close, but ever prepared, Hadrix draws his pistol with his off hand, fires the ascender hook into the ground and drops over the edge. Braking clamps engaging as he plummets, flamer held at the ready.

His arrival bears no kneeling hero pose, or minor burst of stone around him, just professional as he disengages the hook and drops the last meter to land with a slight bounce as the line finishes winding with the aid of gravity. Flamer back up, he moves to take escort position with the Supreme Leader. <<"Injuries report to Oh-One-Eight-Five. Ninety One, with me on flank escort.">> Priorities!

Suboptimal is right. Oran, first through the hatch, clambers, hangs, dangles, drops!, and experienced observers can just tell from the sound of the landing that it wasn't good. He didn't stick the landing and he didn't inertia-roll. It's a crunch-stumble-fall suite of sounds that ends in a stifled, strangled noise. Said noise is not the girlish scream you're all hoping for, but it possesses an involuntary and in-pain quality that definitely suggests Oran learning the hard way that gravity is a harsh mistress. He does have the presence of mind to move out of the way before Kylo uses him for a black clad landing platform, though. 2 of 2 Knights now have an ankle or foot 'situation', however grimly they press forward. Behold, the lords of darkness! Fear them, galaxy!

When Drath asks if everyone is alright, he receives a dry, "Never better," and then Oran ignites his saber, perhaps in readiness for action... maybe to cast some light down here in the dark... maybe just because now he's pissed and wants to wreck something. Forward he goes. Just a bit of a limp, barely noticeable, right?

Saanvi advises camly <<Remember: Force is the product of mass times acceleration. That is it is not the fall which wil injure you but how quickly you stop.>> With this she steps over the edge and drops down, her knees bending and she spills in a brief tumble, <<Erisi? That looked as if it was an abrupt landing. What is your status?>>

With everyone down the hatch in varying levels of functional, Kylo begins looking around in the darkness, reaching out with his senses as well to aid in finding their targets. The space is a long passageway, with a high ceiling about fifteen feet above them, which explains why the descent was so eventful. Abruptly, he freezes in place, his helmet rotating to stare down one end of the passage. "...get on your feet."

Almost as soon as he says it, a pair of glowing red slits wink ominously into existence down deeper in the black, and a low, menacing growl thrums through the rusted bulkheads. A clawed foot pads out into a shaft of light with hardly any accompanying sound, and a moment later, a large horned head, canine and reptilian at the same time, hoves into view, baleful red eyes staring down at the group. The spines running down its shadowy back nearly tickle the roof.

Karys can not seem to work herself up into a proper posture and as the others descend she motions Saanvi over. <<Eighteen, needing assistance.>> That said she goes still, moving herself as best she can over to the side. Only when the medic arrives at her side does she turn her visored head towards her and begins to explain. Something wrong with her back, lower portion, yes she landed on her tailbone as well. Everthing feels stuck and she can't quite stand straight without really giving it a go. Deep breath in, and out, in out and then The Supreme Leader is telling them to get to their feet.

Her head lifts up and she sees the creature, hands going for her pistols, wincing a little but pulling them free.

"I am fine." A curt response to Saanvi, woman swallowing down any pain and squashing it deep down. Erisi's great well of willpower carries her through, the woman forcing herself to walk mostly in a normal step, though she takes care to not put too much pressure on the ankle.

She may or may not be biting the inside of her cheek, but ..it's just an ankle, and she will not show weakness in front of the Supreme Leader. Or nearby to him either. Nope. Her breathing is slow and paced, though there is a brief uptick in the beating of her heart and the circulation of her blood as those red eyes suddenly blink into view, the roll thrumming through her. Ordinally she *might* try to commune with the creature, but events as of late and now the broken ankle she's trying to walk off means she's not interested in trying to spare it's life.

Immediately, without thought, she'll lift her right hand up as veins take on that characteristic soft barely-there glow, her the red-gold flecks within hazel eyes deepening in color as she bares her teeth in a barely contained scowl, the creature finding it's flesh alight as she raises her hand up and draws it back before sending the hand forwards, palm first, sending her will forwards. Fwoosh.

Drath twists at the waist upon hearing the Supreme Leader's command, drawing himself to his feet and turning to give a quick scan of their situation. Karys is down, if armed, but everyone else seems to be doing well enough, although Saanvi is busy treating people. Taking a step to the side, Drath moves himself to take up a position on the flank of the Knights, arranging himself between the Tuk'ata and Karys/Saanvi as she works on getting herself up. <<Let's see if we can't scare it off.>> is chirped over the comms, opening fire with his blaster rifle at that decent little distance right into the side of the creature. Perhaps an overwhelming show of force from the team will make it back off? It's at least a nice thought, isn't it? He doesn't sound like he believes it either.

<<"I don't think anything on this planet gets scared...">> Hadrix responds to Drath. He steps forward, to the side of the Supreme Leader, never in front, and opens fire, literally and figuritively, as a fountain of sunlight explodes from his flamer and chases away both the cool of deep places and the cloak of perpetual night one finds in the tunnels.

<<"We can enrage it to death I suppose.">> there's an old growl in his voice as he plants his feet, keeping the spray on the beast.

<<"I think I like it here.">>

The darkness assumes nightmarish form into the shape of the Tuk'ata, the hell-hounds of Korriban, and Oran presses his lips briefly into a grim line. Erisi might have reminisced earlier about the one-time hovel of privacy and Total Lack of Jumping; is the other erstwhile aristocrat now remembering manicured Coruscanti gardens? Ballrooms where the most savage and dangerous creatures to be found were only the other members of the nobility? Sunlit solariums totally, spectacularly, completely free of something you could describe as a hell hound? Maybe a little. Or a lot.

"I've rather the impression it doesn't scare easily, Ninety One," Oran replies to Drath, before he catches Hadrix's commentary (he likes it here) and greets it with an eye roll. "Please know that I died doing what I loved, which finding you appalling and incomprehensible. Just kill it with fire. Please and thank you." INTO THE FRAY! vwoom vwoom miss miss woosh ahhhh tuk'ata blood ahhh gross swish miss VWOOM

Saanvi does a quick scan of those who're injured and since Erisi growls in response Saanvi goes to Karys side, "Doctor incoming, you shoot and I will mend. It is close enough to teamwork to suffice, hmm?" She accesses the injury tugs out a premeasured syringe, ejecting a llittle to dispel airbubbles and adjust the dosage for Karys who is smaller than a large human male the syringe was premeasured for. This done she delivers the dose, adds another injecting of something directly to the bloodstream rather than musce this time-and she fits Karys with a brace, pausing to break the full back-c-spine board to hust the lower portion and simply duct-tapes it to Karys-all while trying her best not to intefere with Karys aiming.

The Vanguard and Knights of Ren waste no time joining battle with the monstrous beast prowling towards them, and when they open fire the growling shifts to a bone-chilling howl as the Tuk'ata lunges forward with remarkable speed. Massive claws come to bear as the thing shifts onto its hind legs to properly rake its attackers with them, the sheer mass of the creature filling most of the hallway in that direction as it lashes out.

Kylo's lightsaber finally ignites, spitting vehement fire. Above the din of combat, a different sound ebbs up: rich feminine laughter that echoes in ripples off the metallic walls, lending the notes a cold, metallic tone. "Oh, Kylo, Kylo, I knew you'd come looking," words coming out of the laughter, bouncing from every corner of the hallway, "And you brought your new toys! You never shared with me, always had to be the /mas-ter/, but now look at us, your toys and mine playing together!"

It's clear from the way the Supreme Leader remains rooted in place, the lightsaber held stiffly at his side, that whatever is going on here has somewhat unnerved him.

Waste no time!? Karys is grunting as that brace is ripped into place and secured with all of things - something akin to duct tape in this universe. It throws her first shot off, her second give with a deeper breath as the meds kick in and she starts to straighten. The next two shots are taken when she is less likely to hit someone and done so in a hurry. They miss and she narrows her gaze behind that visor. <<Eighteen accounted for.>> Back into the action. She steps forward, strafing to the side to give herself a bit more room to fire and not possibly hit someone.

You know what's great about using something other than brute strength to fight? You don't have to worry about a weak little ankle. Erisi is hyper-focused on further damaging that creatures flesh, muscle and bone, left hand coming into the motion of her ocean to whip back like she had the right to send in a second volly of internal flame which combusts in tandem with Hadrix's own firepower. She gears up to send another volly 'round but that voice has her freezing, hands mid-air, head tilting back as if trying to place the source of the voice, wide eyed gaze directed RIGHT AT ORAN, "It's her ..." Ominously so, Erisi half-stepping back and stumbling due to the momentarily forgotten ankle, a quick exhalation catching in her throat, gaze turning back to the best as she readies again, "She sounds /jealous/."

Drath stands his ground as the Tuk'ata approaches the firing line they've set up, a chill going down his spine at the sound of that howl the creature gives off. The voice cutting through the air is even more chilling, and the urgency of disposing of this creature becomes even moreso at the suggestion of its presence. The brief moment of distraction is paid for by the swipe Drath takes across his shoulder and upper chest, a cry leaving him as the claws tear through plastoid composite and flesh. At least it's harder to see the blood in the dark.

<<Copy, Eighteen.>> the Trooper chirps back to Karys. <<Nine-Oh, we trained for this, surround it!>> Those kell dragon hide boots are a testament to that! Starting to shuffle around in an arc on his side of the beast now that Karys is on her feet and Saanvi is no longer providing treatment, Drath begins to move around to one side, opening fire once again as he shuffles across the darkened floor and sinking another heavy blaster bolt into the creature's ribs.

There is pain, an impact, and the world is out of focus. Fire in his sides, rib cracked, the floating rib at least... one of the lower ones possibly even spiral fractured from the impact alone.

AO-904 remembers his eighth birthday. He remembers putting the end of the pugil-staff into the face-plate of the instructor's helmet. The trooper going down without a sound louder than a hiss. The exultation as he raised his staff in vicory, and then the snap kick to his side.

Hadrix is on the floor, blinking. He coughs and tastes his own mouth. No blood - no lungs punctured or esophagal damage... didn't bite his tongue either. Simultaneously in memory and reality he stands 'Too stupid to fail Nine Oh Four?' The swimming vision melds with reality as he stalks towards the beast again, to get into firing position. The ghost of his instructor's voice reaching out across the years. He can't hear the taunting voice, just the scream of his own blood in his veins.

<<"Moving to flank...">> is snarled into the comms, the best sit rep someone will get from him in this state. He growls and shifts to angle his firing line to the side opposing Drath before a graceful arc likened to the embodiement of his rage bursts from the nozzle of his plasma caster. Thankfuly his comms remain offline, the big man fortunately not speaking loud enough to engage them, "You call that a kick?" the irridescent ambience that blazes through his visor lights his face in a devil's grin, eyes blood and fury, his mouth a rictus.

The hound is lucky - the instructor had an eye bitten out before they'd gotten Hadrix off the man. This thing is only being shot at.

Oran is too close to the Tuk'ata to risk a real pause, but there's a definite stutter in his action at the sound of the laugh -- one that causes him to miss his mark against a target that despite its size, has a predator's ability to move, dodge, and attack. His saber hits empty air as he risks a glance back to Erisi that confirms - it's her. But those things the Jedi hate so much, fear, anger, hate, they have a way of boiling into something potent and dangerous, and the next strike is hard, harsh, vicious. "If you imagine us to be toys, then draw yourself out here and PLAY! Coward! Craven crotch-socket spawn of black slime and synthetic fabric!" Tuk'ata blood sprays in a satisfying, if messy arc. "COME OUT AND PLAY!"

Saanvi is away from Karys in a flash and a quick assessing sweep of those slate yes scans the combatants before backtracking and landing on Drath for a twice over. Careful not to step in FRONT of anyone's blaster fire she trots her way over <<Medical inbound, Ninty-one.>> She makes sure he is prepared for her to begin just a heartbeat before in rapid succession applying local, rinsing and bandaging the wound and applying duct-tape over it. The worst casualty is poor Saanvi who is too busy working to marvel at Oran's awe inspiring fury.

Disembodied voices mean nothing, not when Karys becomes a target when she gives herself room. The creature is a bit too swift and Karys is a bit too slow. She manages to get mostly out of the way before its head turns and catches her harshly in the hip, its rather pointed horn catching her and sliding benath the armor to leave a rather nasty gash in her leg. Letting out a sound that is garbled by her helmet, she breathes, going to her knee. This helps to stabilize her shots as the thing continues on its rampage. Sighting down, she ignores the burning pain while others talk to some unseen figure. The threat is right here.

A bolt sears it rather roughly along hits shoulder and there may be a grin that spreads inside her helmet - payback is a b. Nearly right after the first bolt the second sears the air and then the third, all hit but that fourth misses as the voice that has no known owner catches her attention - expecially the Supreme Leader's reaction. With a grunt she pushes up to her feet as the blood flows down beneath her armor while a portion of her greaves is painted red.

"THAT was the bloody /word/, /// Sith ///, something something ...group of Sith." Erisi states, that momentary jogging of her memory completely side-lining her attention from the Tuk, and without hearty focus and rage flowing through her, she's about as effective as a toothless womprat tossing its body at a wall trying to bring it down. Not effective at all. A few little thrusts of her hand and she visibly rolls her eyes, head canting back, "Useless Eri ..." Self-chiding, letting herself get swept up in the joy of remembering something on the tip of her tongue, though she did get to see Orans' badass moves and, well, she has to appreciate them while her own abilities fizzle. Literally. Maybe some smoke was created from a dust mote being burned near the beast, but otherwise ... "Ah well ..." Try try again.

This is, thus far, very similar to the kell dragon fight all those weeks ago. Though it's honestly a bit less dangerous. Granted, there aren't people at the sidelines waiting to pull you out. Hadrix moves into the other side of the flank, and Drath moves further into his own, keeping the creature in an overlapping line of fire from three different sides. Unfortunately he's unable to keep it up, as the medic approaches, and he has to let his side of pressure fall for a moment. As much as he doesn't want to do so, it's simply needed at times.Drath hisses at the treatment, the wounds still somewhat fresh, but at least no longer exposed to the elements.

Hadrix stalks past Erisi as he continues to hurl flame at the beast. "Hardly useless..." is rasped out over his externals at her. <<"Eighteen - adjusting flank posture to cover while Ninety-One is attended to.">> A whip of a tail forces Hadrix to duck and his fire sprays across the cieling, like a lantern made of water.

You gave the small one a lightsaber. Hey, that doesn't make any sense, Erisi has fire, not a saber, so wha.... whaaaaaa..... who is she talking about.

Oh.

It's him.

THE SMALL ONE.

Now that chick's done it, now she's really lit Oran up, and he presses the attack into the wounded beast, just straight up walking /into/ what's slowly becoming a carcass. Hacking through it like a machete through jungle. "NOT" slash "EVERYBODY" hack "HAS TO BE" slash slash "SIX FOOT FIVE" hack slice swipe "AND TWO HUNDRED BLOODY POUNDS" cut "OF SOLID BLOODY MUSCLE" chop chop "IN ORDER" flying head "to BRING" swish oh, now there's nothing left to hit, and there's nothing left to shoot at, and everything is covered in horrible Tuk'ata goo... which makes *triggered* the only show, and Oran finishes his sentence with a somewhat meeker, "....the pain," before he just shuts up and stands there among fire and blaster-burned monster pieces. It's a little awkward. "Right, it's dead now," he changes the subject, flawlessly.

Saanvi has just finished tending to Drath's injuries and is pivoting to treat the next patient when she's hit. There's a sharp grunt as she is knocked off her feet. Gritting her teeth she pushes herself up right just as the heros dispatch it, "I will require some choice parts for venom study. That is to say all who were injured by this creature are to receive treatment-once the treatment is available." She pulls out a vibrodagger and limps over to claim her prizes.

"I'm six three, two twenty, Oran..." Hadrix notes as he hands Oran a kerchief from one of his belt pouches.

"Gone." Gone, and Kylo knows it. "GONE," he repeats, turning to pace in a tight circle while the others are making sure the creature is dead and licking their wounds. "GONE!" His lightsaber lashes out in an overflow of frustration, drawing a ragged line of hot plasma through the bulkhead, and then another and another, until the corroded metal creaks and groans. He doesn't stop, just keeps hammering away, and it's not until a piece of the wall collapses and nearly bludgeons him as it falls that the saber stills again.

"...We have to go. We have to find her. She won't stay here." The blades hiss back into the hilt. "And when we find her we're going to kill her." A hand reaches out, and the whole ceiling on the other side of the passage is pulled down with a shuddering scream of twisting durasteel, forming a ramp. With a shaky, audible exhalation, he strides up it back the way they came.