Log:Knights of Ren: Fall of Jedha - Into the Darkness

Into the Darkness

OOC Date: May 5 2020
Location: Jedha
Participants: Knights of Ren: Syrus, Iollan Canem, Erisi Auslese, Domino Graystorm, Sebek, Errod Zand, Vosaurd, and Malik Ren as GM

The short story: The Knights traverse underground catacombs beneath Jedha City's crater rim. Syrus confronts his past.

The long story:

[Malik Ren]

A series of ships has jumped abruptly and unexpectedly in-system, unmistakeable as the implements of the First Order's war machine. While the Republic senators attempt to rebuild an interplanetary democracy, the war has come to Jedha.

Lacking significant military resources of their own, the Jedhans scrambled to man what defenses they could, jumping into ships and rushing to the crest of the crater to light up their surface to air heavy turbolaser battery -- powerful ground-based cannons with the potential to keep attackers at bay. Maybe long enough for help to arrive...

The Jedhan defensive forces (such as they are) were not fast enough to stop the landing of a dark, nefarious Dungeon-class transport, and it is from this ship -- the Night Buzzard -- that all manner of trouble shortly emerges. Even as the precious turbolaser battery warms up and begins to fire with deep, distant boom!s, these dark individuals have been dispatched to silence it.

These are, of course, the Knights of Ren, led by one Malik Ren. "We are traversing what's left of the Old City catacombs in order to reach and disable the turbolaser battery," he explains while walking through a cavern at a swift pace, "Thereby limiting the amount of innocents and hostiles we encounter along the way. Intelligence has provided us the approximate location and direction we need to travel. It is is not exact. These catacombs are unstable and mostly collapsed since the 'mining accident' 30-odd years ago, and we will have to make our own way."

Proceeding to a crevice in the rock, Malik slips through and steps forward onto a ledge. This is a dark pit and a long, long, long way down; so far that flashlight beams disappear into the darkness. A rope has been hung up. Presumably it reaches all the way?

"Here we are," Mal notes dryly. "Let's begin." It's time to climb down, down, down into the darkness.

..

At the bottom of the chasm is a deep pool of dark water, and wide stone stairs leading to a passageway. It leads straight ahead, although side passageways seem to be an option if one wants to swim.

[Syrus]

Standing over the precipice, Syrus casts a look in Malik's direction. There's a lot in that look, or there would be if it weren't hidden behind the Kiffar's helmet. Tonight is going to take its toll, there's no doubt. But there's also no reason to put off the inevitable, so Syrus lowers himself down over the ledge, climbing his way down into the darkness (so symbolic), slowly but surely.

[Iollan Canem]

Helmet on, blaster drawn in the casual air of an adept, Iollan proceeds after the other members of the Knights with all due spooky swagger. There's little other option for them, really, what with all the black and red and perpetual mystery about the bunch. The mirrored front of his visor turns to Malik as instructions are briefly thrown at them, as is customary now, and he only nods simply.

The drop in front of them is more interesting, really. Far too interesting. Frak, he isn't dressed for this.

The blaster goes away to free up both hands, which as it turns out, he is most definitely going to need. After Syrus, the detective turns and hooks a boot into a descending hold, gripping the lip, finding another, looking down to keep some methodical motion to the decent and--

With the sad hiss of leather on rock, a boot unlodges itself and all at once the two-hundred some pounds of one charming spacer is falling. Quickly. some static curse snaps half-formed over the radio just in time for the flat of his back to make solid, undeniable contact with the water below. It's like hearing one of those turbolasers topside, really, but a little more meaty. With the air firmly knocked out of him, Lan simply sinks for a good few seconds, recovering. It's really gonna be this kind of night, huh?

[Erisi]

After a restless night and a hearty breakfast, lunch and dinner, here Erisi is. On Jedha. Through the crevice she would go, pulling through it onto the ledge, glancing down into darkness.

"Awesome."

Grabbing the rope she will begin to climb down, or rather slide down. Robo-hand gripped by organic hand as she begins to sliiiiiiiide down, robes fettering and billowing up around her as she gains some speed - down, down, down until quite suddenly there is no rope. Did someone tug it up? Or is it just her luck. Either way there is a soft throaty squeak of sound that echoes out from the darkness below for those up above, followed by a very gentle 'splosh', followed by softer sploshes as one Erisi Auslese doggy paddles her way towards the stairs, head tilted back with bangs plastered to her forehead, spitting out water as she focuses hard on not drowning.

Splash. Splash. Splash. There will be no willing path taken to the other pathways unto which she must swim. No.

With a series of gasps she'll grip one step before pulling herself up the others in a crawl, beautiful robes dragging with her as she mosies, slowly, on up towards the top of the stairs, water trailing all the while behind her and down the stairs to rejoin it's watery bretheren.

"Next time ..we just ...kick the door in and mow them all down." Breathed out by the soaked Eri, woman pausing briefly at the top step before she slowly rises up, crossing to the landing and reaching down to begin wringing out her robes.

[Sebek]

Sebek of the Desert, Flagbearer of Coret, Conqueror of the Sixteenth Deck, Consumer of Hounds, He Who Hunts, Walking Talking Diplomatic Incident was a lizard, to be sure, but he was one from the dry parts of his planet. Water and slipperiness did not gel well with him, and his descent down this infernal hole left much to be desired in terms of grace.

It would have helped considerably had he used the rope but alas, pride literally goeth before a fall.

His method of climbing was odd, hanging forty-five degrees and moving sideways relative from his position, like a corkscrew, very lizardlike. It was far from efficient. But it got him down. Slowly. He had criticisms. "The alacrity of duracrete," he commented, gritted teeth, voice buzzing from that animalistic snarling that made up the front of his mask. His feet landed in the shallow end and he made a sound sort of like a pineapple-haired clown murderer that had just stepped on a gardening implement. Emerging from the possibly now defiled pool, shaking off his boots and his robes, he decided to state the plainly and ridiculously obvious. "Behold, a tunnel." Then there was a "ghkh!" sound as flailing water struck his armour. Ew. Let's get away from here. He moved a little bit forward, saw the watery paths, and ventured another comment. "Aqueducts leading to the unknown. Unacceptable. We must remain dry."

[Domino]

Domino looks down and grumbles "We can fold spacetime, half those here can make the galaxy obey them and yet SOMEHOW our battle plan involves rubbing crotches against a rope one after another into someone's septic tank." she waits for others to go before her, "If I'd known about this nonsense I'd have packed lighter." she sucks in a breath as Iollan and Erisi go tumbling into the water, "Never occurred to me to check the waterproof rating on my gravebelt."

she waits for her turn and mutters to herself "Didn't come to be THAT person. Don'tfalldon'tfalldon'tfall.." she issues a strangled gasp as on the transition she almost falls-she's a walking packmule and she's got slender, seemingl frail arms but somehow she manages NOT to fall. Laboring with soft puffs and grunts she scoots gracelessly down the line like an inchworm in it's agonial throes.

[Errod Zand]

"Are any of us truly innocent, whose minds can grasp the concept, and still blunder forward in our mad race towards oblivion? Every last soul screaming out its own justification for an unbroken chain of sins stretching down from the very idea of such a thing. A nerf has true innocence, unable to conceive the idea of good or evil; it merely is, without thought or identity." Errod's rough voice grates hollowly from inside the blank mask that fronts his helmet, following Malik's lead deeper into the cavern and stopping at the edge of the ledge.

"The nerf has no god, no hell, no mark on its soul. No dreams, no nightmares, no lingering memories. I envy them." Stepping carefully over, he begins his descent down the rock wall, his aging fingers numb from the strain and slipping more than once, but each time his choice of handholds, clefts in the rock that the other hand can wedge firmly inside, save him from falling, if only barely, until he finds himself at the bottom, limbs quivering from the strain.

His eyes peer at the tunnel before them through the slits of his mask. "The dry path it is," he agrees with Sebek, keeping any reservations to himself, though his hand does reach over his shoulder and loose the chainwhip from its holder, bringing the weapon around into his hand.

[Vosaurd]

"Hutt's blood," Vosaurd mutters, trying his best to shimmy through the various nooks and crannies of the cavern. The plan made sense. Disable the battery, save some future effort. No problem. But with the added complexity of climbing involved, it suddenly sound like a ... ridge too far.

As he begins to shimmy across the ledge with the others, and then start his descent, Vos takes a deep breath. He doesn't get very far down the rope, as his feet give way with his hands. He falls a few feet, before catching himself on some of the rock with a 'huff'. He's pretty sure he hasn't climbed any rocks like this since he was just a child. And even those were just a few feet off the ground. This challenge was far greater - and exposes his lack of dungeoneering skills to his dearest comrades. Now on the rock face itself he continues his descent. A couple of times he reaches for holds that just aren't 'there', but he manages to get away with it by using his strength. This isn't sustainable though, and soon enough, the Knight of Ren feels the stinging sensation of lactic acid filling his muscles. As they fatigue under the constant effort, his mentality starts to waver. Then? Slip.

One of those poor reaches he made does him in. His entire body shifts downwards as a chunk of rock sheers away from the surface! And just like that? Vosaurd is completely detached, spiralling down into the darkness below. To his credit he doesn't scream or yell, but the awkward tumble ensures that he can't at least pin-dive into the water below. Instead he lands directly on his stomach - the resulting splash echoing into the surrounding tunnels.

Sinking a bit, he eventually swims to the side, gasping for air. Doubtless just a bit winded from the whole experience. "That turned out fine." Gurgle.

[Malik Ren]

Domino is complaining, Errod is questioning the innocence of sentient life, Malik is ignoring everyone as though this is the standard course of events for a pleasant Knight outing. Which, more or less, it is. He seems not to have much trouble with the rope himself, swinging to a step knee-deep at the end and raising a hand idly toward Iollan to haul the big man to the exit steps as well. No good drowning right out the gates, right? Heedless of the water, he sloshes up the steps and out, considering the pathways before them and the opinions of his comrades.

"Check your lights and mind your step," Mal advises, "This place is ancient and unstable. Like Zand."

Walking forward brings them down a passageway, niches cut out to hold the bones of ancients long dead. As it continues, the passage opens up into a long, tall-ceilinged room filled with columns and rubble. Statues of unknown figures, perhaps Jedi or important figures in the Church of the Force, stand or lie fallen, covered in dust, and far above their heads, bat-like creatures flee the beams of their lights.

In the distance, toward the south end of the chamber, an ominous red horizontal laser light glows. Mal presses his lips into a firm, grim line. "It appears someone suspected we might come this way. We either cross that trip-line, or we go back and swim."

[Syrus]

Descending the wall and ascending the steps, Syrus begins his slow look around. Strangely enough, he'd never been down here in all his years spent on Jedha. Something from his youth pulls at him. This, in another life, would have been all he could ever want.

The Kiffar's slow gaze moves over the all of the statues before he moves to a wall, hand lifting to brush some cobwebs and eojs of dust from a plaque. It's nothing pertinent to their goal, but it's important to him. His attention turns to one of the hollows in the wall where myriad bones are interred and he lifts a hand to rest atop an old helmet, the Kiffar examining for a short time before he leaves it where it rests.

Moving to stand near the center of the room, Syrus reaches out to try and guide them along their path. Nothing but noise is returned. "We...should press on."

[Iollan Canem]

Did he die? Is he dead now, finally?

For a few moments in the icy blackness, it seems quite likely. Maybe that's okay. Except, rather abruptly, it's not-- he's going to drown, or at least embarrass himself more, either of which has the same sort of outcome in this company. A bit of flailing comes around as his instincts kick in, as does his brain, and the detective manages to head back to the surface and the sight of land just in time for Malik's helping hand. That feels weird.

Half-dragged, half of his on volition, Lan does indeed make it to solid ground with the rest of the team, dripping sadly onto the floor. Steadying himself, the helmet comes of for a moment to dump water and fix the poor state of his hair, one gloved hand scrubbing down his face before the detective wanders farther into the hall. In between a couple wet coughs and rearranging his raiments, there is one little discovery off to the side, half-burried under some rubbble. Huh. The slim, utilitarian pack is turned over in his hands, studied a moment, before Lan clips it onto the back of his belt, looter that he is. Might as well get something out of all this.

Mostly back to functioning, he redraws that 44c and makes to follow along near to Syrus and Malik. <<"I'd really enjoy it if there's no more water, going forward,">> rises the blithe drawl from him over the comms, though he sounds less than hopeful.

[Erisi]

"Do we have to cross it? Or can we disrupt it." Erisi wonders aloud while the others look around, the soppy Knight hefting up her heavy robes to sling them under her cybernetic arm, letting them drape so her feet are free to move without the robes dragging her down. She'll step towards that trip-line, lips pressing together as she tries something she's only been successful at a handful of times, in a controlled setting, while being yelled at.

Ah, the good old days so long ago.

Stepping up about a foot away she'll reach out her organic hand and try to send electricity through the air to set it off, instead she gets a fun tinglie feeling all up the arm, over her shoulder, down her spine, which causes her to let out an involuntary giggling snort, eyebrows going up as her bangs for a brief moment fluff up and hover. A twitch or two later she's simply moving to hop over the laser beam, still clutching to her robes, the jump not the most romantic of things but it gets the job done and she doesn't trip it.

"I can still feel it zinging me ..hoo, it do not like these wet robes." Twitch.

[Sebek]

"The wire," was Sebek's helpful contribution to this discussion. Because the alternative was water and Sebek was a creature of the desert. Water was life. Water was death. "Should battle be joined, we meet it standing. Not submerged." He stepped further into the room, throwing his gaze left, right, up, especially up. For that is where traps lay. "Do not consume," he advised the group, gesturing towards one of the bat-like creatures. "Diseased. Lungs, consumed from within."

Rather than focusing on the tripwire or the pathway back, he instead focused on the statues. Though hidden by his mask, his face was twisted in an expression of concentration, trying to place the origin or value of this masonry. But in lieu of that, he spied something small. Something carved. Reaching forward, he picked it up and gazed upon the little keepsake. "A trophy," he mused, quietly, his thick and velvety accent coming to the forefront as it usually did when he was talking to himself. "Odd to claim without a battle, but excusable. Elegant in a primitive manner. I enjoy this." And with that he tucked it somewhere into his armour for later use as a paperweight or something.

Now, for the matter at hand. The tripwire. "It merely runs along the ground," he observed, and following the lead of He Who Learns and She Who Ignites, he opted to vault it himself. Without their ease, he had to take a running start, using some masonry to vault himself high enough over to clear it. The landing was rough, and he came down on one knee (not superhero landing he's not that cool), but otherwise, all good all good.

[Domino]

Domino makes her way over to the tripwire. She inspects one end, then gets up and paces along the other. Normally Domino is all for looting but the single visable security system has her attention at the moment. She thuroughly identifies each part, "Infrared lazer with continuous relay and a standard zone alarm." She looks up "Obviously anyone trips it, assuming it doesn't trigger something awful, it'll alert someone. So will messing with it. So don't-!!!" She trails off, her mask hiding her horrified look as people start leaping over it. She doesn't wait to see what happens if someone trips it she bolts up and hops over it, stumbling and nearly knocking over some pricy artifact but she doesn't stop-she's suddenly desperate to make her way out of this deathtrap "Oh my stars it's like herding bantha babies through a minefield with you lot!" pure. Horror.

[Errod Zand]

The speech on the innocence of the beasts of the field finished, Errod quiets, focused on the task at hand. The laser presents an obstacle, if not a particularly flashy one; indeed, the light appears to be completely static. Walking up to the thin red line, he just sort of sails over it, with a flap of grey and black fabric and the muted rattle of his various weaponry. On the other side, he shrugs and continues forward, angling to the right and for some reason feeling like there were only four ways this could go.

[Vosaurd]

Now soaking wet from his fall into the who-knows-how-old water, Vosaurd feels a mild shiver start to seep into his skin and bones. Will he get sick from this? Probably. But this was an exciting venture nonetheless. Completely worth it! Striding up and along with the group, the lean figure casts his attention around to the surroundings. With a tilt of his head he notes the fallen statues, each given a hard squint and maybe even a smirk before he looks ahead to notice the horizontal laser light.

"I can't swim." Vos admits, though not with a great deal of embarrassment in his tone. It's just an unfortunate fact of his upbringing. "With our numbers and forces I would of thought that we can safely spring the trap. The odds are with us if nothing else." Once everyone starts trying to clear it, Vosaurd perhaps follows up from his earlier EPIC FAIL with a neat flip. He takes a few steps to get momentum up, jumps, tucks in tight and lets go just at the right moment to clear the thing. Not even breaking stride, he glances around at the various other passages that are now before them.

"Where are you going?" The call out to Errod is done with a sparing glance, a hand going onto his still-soggy hip.

[Malik Ren]

The rubble holds all kinds of interesting trinkets, for those who choose to search for them. Malik's helmeted head turns to regard Sebek with what must be side-eye. "You like art?" he wonders aloud, "And we've finally found some manner of creature you will not eat?" He studies the Falleen a moment as though wondering when someone will appear to tell him surprise, they've switched Sebek out for a different Falleen. But no. This is still He Who Assigns Verbose Titles and Epithets. "Extraordinary," Malik decides, and then refocuses on what's in front of them, listening to Domino.

He assesses the beam for a moment, then decides, "Over it," as the best course of action. "Our only other paths forward necessitate another swim, this time with too much uncertainty about how long it will take to come up for air. If we set it off, we set it off. They already know we landed, it's only a matter of time." His own jump over the beam is unremarkable compared to some of the others, but it could be worse.

So the paths lie before them. Right (West), straight ahead (South), or left (East). Errod has chosen west, but as soon as their beams of light hit the tunnel, there's a bit of an issue:

There is a trap.

The Force-sensitives (except Sebek lol) can feel the echo of its danger before they even see it, and the others know it for what it is as soon as they spot it. A weak patch in the floor, overlaying some kind of pit, no doubt with unhappiness in its depths. They will have to jump it, fill the pit, or pick a different way.

[Syrus]

Honestly, Syrus just sailed right past the wire like the wizard that he is. It probably looked very cool. But what's important is that it has now been tripped, so it was probably all for naught, IOLLAN.

Errod has chosen a path, and Syrus will follow. No sense in splitting up, after all. It's better to bunch up together and make it an easier job for whatever ancient protectors live down here.

With that tell-tale dread running up his spine, Syrus spots what looks like a trap. He considers for a moment a reaches a hand back to lift a large chunk of one of the statues from the larger room, floating it in towards him and letting it drop through the weak patch of flooring onto the spikes below. It lands in such a way as to facilitate a /very/ careful crossing, which he then does.

[Iollan Canem]

The promise of treasure is always tempting. As they move along farther in, Iollan still has half an eye skimming this way and that for anything else he might pluck from the ruins. Anything worth a credit or two. So great is the distraction of further riches that he simply is not paying attention as other members of the party make their skilful vaults over a simple laser. He's too late, and too laden down with sopping wet gear, and so the haphazard sideways meander turns into a poor excuse for a jump, more of a modified two-step, which clears no part of the laser. Frak.

Catching himself on nothing, hands out to steady what balance he can yet maintain, Lan wavers a moment as if waiting for sirens. Or roaring beasts. Anything seems likely. But... nothing yet. Alright.

With a private sigh, he flickers attention eventually over to the right where everyone else is leading off. Yeah, that's a hole, a whole trap, even from here. No chance, Jack. With no great mind powers to add to the fray, the detective makes himself useful to only himself as he hangs back, mildly glancing about for any other loot. He'll follow once someone else makes it safe.

[Erisi]

Electricity continues to tickle in through Erisi's nerves, causing small ticks to broil through her as she watches what Syrus is doing after that inkling of danger (which could be from the electricity dancing through her singsonging 'we're gonna stop your heaaaaaaaaaarrrrrt'). An attempt is made to lift some rocks from the room and drag them to the tunnel Errod chose, but she can, fingers trembling as she grunts in frustrating, the electricity short-circuiting the woman and her ability to focus on the force. She'll look around for something, anything -- slapping a hand down then instead on the wall, static snapping off from her as she's inable to find anything remotely metal looking to discharge it, but the wall -- well it works. By chance. Maybe the formation of the rock -- Syrus would know, but quite frankly she doesn't want to get stuck in the room as he gives an explanation of the properties of said rock and why it would help with the electro-static.

With no small amount of relief she will move past Iollan, a nod given to the man, feeling that perhaps she should do the same as he, but she'll keep going to very carefully pick her way across those stones with robes hefted to show off her sweet unshaved gams.

[Domino]

Domino look around, "If we trip something they'll probably come through one of the tunnels we passed. I wish I'd brought the wireless motion alarms with me..." anxious about so many paths explored and the stampeding herd in unfriendly territory. She notes Erisi and Syrus getting across and moves to follow behind them, not at all interested in looting or dilly dallying.

[Sebek]

Having cleared the tripwire and thus completely disregarding Iollan's dramatic fail, Sebek had proceeded forward into the hall that everyone else decided to pick. Whatever. "Behold, a path," he said, also completely disregarding He Who Learns and his helpful input, and with care, crossed that bridge when he came to it.

[Errod Zand]

"Anomalies, yes. A blight on the galaxy, probably. Useful in a pinch? Definitely," Errod grates, having been stood near the edge of the obvious trap trying to devise a way around it up until Syrus drops a chunk of rubble into it and creates a path. Without too much hesitation and no real issues, he carefully picks a path across, with wary eyes turned downward to be sure he doesn't misstep. Of course, the slits in the helmet require his whole head be tilted toward this task, but on the other side everything levels out again. "Only one way to go, from the look of things," he announces after taking quick stock of the crossroads.

[Vosaurd]

"W..." Vosaurd takes a step forward and reaches out with his hand as Sebek so casually springs the trap. Oy vey. That could have ended badly! With others starting to throw rocks into the pit, Vosaurd turns to look at the other passages which have yet to be traversed. The one that led directly straight in particular gets his ire, before he turns back to the others. "Why don't we just try some of the other routes? Save yourselves the effort of hauling rocks unless we have to--oh." Before he can even finish, Syrus has moved a big chunk into the pit, making it safe(ish) to cross. With an earnest shrug of his shoulders he follows the rest of the group, taking a deep breath to concentrate. Losing your footing across here would suck.

Once across he takes another good look around, twisting his neck as he adjusts the robes on his own person. Robes sure got heavy.

"This path headed back the way we came?"

[Malik Ren]

What a team! Disabling the Jedhans' hasty trap, not falling down on a lot of terrible spikes. They're the greatest. No one so much as snags a cloak-hem on the spikes in the pit, and they are unimpeded as they move forward, the tunnel bending to the north.

There are a number of alcoves here, replete with treasures no doubt, odds and ends from someone else's life that could be kept for sentiment or utilized for tools, or traded later for money.

Somewhat disruptive to this process of exploration, however, might be the blaster bolts that whip out of the darkness from enemies up ahead! The shots seem to fire out of nowhere, out of darkness, but lights pointed that direction quickly betray them for what and where they are: A group of humans in clothing that identifies them as members of the Church of the Force, and in one case a junior level Guardian of the Whills with a small crossbow style bowcaster. They are unmasked, and they are wasting no words on these intruders.

One of them... Syrus knew her, once upon a time, in another life. Another, the one who almost scored a hit on Sebek, wears a crystal around his neck -- a kyber crystal, just the right size for a saber.

[Syrus]

Rounding the corner and whipping his head to the side of an incoming blaster bolt, Syrus jams a hand forward toward...Koa? But she was supposed to be dead, wasn't she? Isn't the death of his old family the thing that predicated him setting out on the journey he's on right now? Had they hidden? And left his own father and mother to be slaughtered by the stormtroopers?

Koa is lifted off of her feet and dragged towards him before she's shot up into the air and bounced off the ceiling, left to gravity to fall back to the floor.

Some time bought where she might not be attacking him, Syrus kneels down next to the woman. "Show me the way to the turbolasers, Koa," he demands, peering down at the woman from behind his mask. "Now."

[Iollan Canem]

Blaster fire. That's more like it.

Likely the sudden assault is due to his own bumbling path through this place, but Iollan is never one to place blame. This is a democratic and fair organization. He is, instead, far more interested in returning fire as best as can be done, given the narrow hallway and pack of friendly targets in front of him. His blaster comes up and sputters a wet hiss on first pull, and the second, and the third, clearing out water from the quick swim earlier. That's surely the excuse for all three red bolts going far overhead -- not that he simply missed. That would be unprofessional.

But, with no damage done, Lan makes to simple crouch down and out of view (mostly) of any return fire, at least in theory. Half way over the makeshift bridge, last of the bunch that he is, the detective has no intentions of making himself a target this round. Besides, Syrus appears to know someone, or at least know enough to yell at someone up there, and that's /certainly/ not his business.

[Erisi]

Erisi is like a wet match. Even though that's not how 'ignite' works, it's how it works now, suckas. Or, at the very least, being sopping wet still like a drowned womp rat, in addition to electrocuting herself, means she's having a very bad, no good sort of day. Like Iollan, it can't be that she simply missed, no. She's simply clearing out her water. See, look at her dripping, still holding her robes in one hand as she tries to summon up some flame for the one who shot at her. Nope. It's just her waving her hand in the idiot and clutching at the air like an idiot.

Clench ..those buttocks ..and ..nope. Erisi simply can not get it done. Despite fire being the love of her life, it just ain't interested in her attentions today. You are way too effing thirsty girl, and it's taco tuesday and it's gonna go get some margs and hit the town.

So she stands there like the wet rat she is, makeup running down her face, lips thinned into a line, staring at the tall one. Next time, sucka.

[Sebek]

To battle! The sword pretty much sprung out of its sheath on Sebek's back and into his hand, itching for a fight as he was! He almost launched himself boldly at his quarry until he spotted the glint on the chain around its neck. "Ahai!" he erupted, his face twisting into the same gleeful bared-teeth mold as his mask. "The Core of Tei Tenga!" The what? Oh here he was banging on about weird Falleen sithspit again. Any thought about things not involving stealing that shining promise dissipated.

Then, Sebek flew.

It's a basic principle of physics that the shortest distance between two points is always a straight line. This rule of course doesn't take into account obstructions but in this case there weren't any. Thus, Sebek closing the distance was direct and to the point. With his sword in reverse grip, his first strike was a BONK straight into the face of the so-called Guardian. The second, over his head was a miss but the third, as Sebek swapped the grip back around to standard, was a slash right across the individual's torso. "I will claim the Core as trophy, insect! My hand dooms you this day!"

[Domino]

Domino had expected this, one hand on her weapon, She lurches to the side as fire's open on them all and yanks her new fancy blaster out, and fires three shots, only one landing though to her credit she manages not to get injured so this is always an automatic WIN in the book of Peaches- And then suddenly there's Crazy Eyes in her sights being Kriffin Terrifying. Resisting the urge to gawp she pivots trying to process the rest of the activity around her whilst seeking her next target.

[Errod Zand]

It's all business now, and the rants on the nature of good and evil are tucked away for later. Errod lunges into action like a coiled spring when the blaster-fire rings out from the ambush-ready alcoves, the chain-whip in his hand crackling into life with a mean buzz. Everything about him is focused on this one discipline, and it shows. The point of the weapon punches through the injured mercenary's body with a wet, sickening squelch, blood spraying onto the wall behind it while Errod immediately pivots away. Twisting at the hips, he slings the body off and away while the bladed shaft continues on to crash into the side of that guardian, plasma spitting as singed fabric smokes, backing up Sebek as he has on multiple occasions prior.

[Vosaurd]

Pew pew! They're under attack! Ducking instinctively, though the blaster shots don't strike anywhere near him, Vosaurd's training seemingly kicks in. Rather instinctively he reaches out with his palm, swiping it across in a sidewise gesture to try and SLAM the Crystal Guardian off to the side. Much to his honest surprise, it works! The creature reels and takes damage! Vos just sort of stares for a moment, but ensures that he makes the surprise on his expression last only for a moment before he presses on.

"Everything alright?" The question posed to Erisi seems to be at least reasonably sincere. Since landing in that water she's appeared at least a little grumpy, and was just then noticed just sort of standing there with no result. Ass clenched excepted.

[Malik Ren]

The reports of the blasters are deafening and maneuverability is difficult in this small space, but this team is good at one thing (and one thing only?): CARNAGE. The tallest mercenary falls to an onslaught from Domino and Errod, while the young Guardian with the kyber crystal around his neck suffers an attack from several assailants, chiefly Sebek. There is no way this boy will leave the catacombs alive. He'll die with his ancestors down here, and that fate is sinking in.

"Abominations," he gasps, stumbling backward as he reels from the onslaught, "You're a blight on the purity of the Force. You're corruption and rot in the pure heart of the universe. You are violence, you are poison, you are harm, you are blindness, disharmony..."

He falls to his knees and curls a hand around his crystal necklace. He's starting to bleed out. "I am one with the Force.... and the Force is with me. I am..... one...."

Nearby, Koa has been attacked by Syrus, thrown into the ceiling and dropped! Crunch! Bones break as she hits the floor, and gasps, coughing up a splotch of blood. "You're going the wrong way," she says. Does she mean him? Or the directions to the turbolaser battery? ...Or both?

Malik snatches a fallen pillar and chucks it at the nearest Mercenary, the short one (still taller than him, maybe), trapping the man's legs under the heavy stone. "Finish these. Kill them," he instructs regarding the Crystal Guardian and the Short Mercenary. "Someone scout ahead briefly to see if we are, indeed, going the wrong way."

He looks to Syrus next. He's not directly telling Syrus to kill Koa, but he does quietly state, "Make a choice."

[Syrus]

"Koa..." the Kiffar begins, some softness in his voice as he watches his downed for. But the thoughts of his father and mother, lain charred across a dais in the Temple of the Kyber return to the forefront of his mind.

His presses to her temple as he tries to ply her mind for information. She knows her way through this place, no doubt. He focuses as best he can, but the information he seeks is just beyond him. He can't grasp it. He frowns.

Standing up and ignoring his saber, he looks down at the woman and says, "Lira and Alta Volo..." he pauses for a moment, pointing the blade at her chin. "It should have been you." The saber is hefted quickly before it's brought down on her twice. The result is something that at one point was largely recognizable as Church Elder Koa, but is no longer.

[Iollan Canem]

Well, maybe he can't hit a moving target today. But he can certainly hit an immobile one -- coming up from his crouch, Lan is already swinging into that rangy stride of his, moving off the bridge with no hesitation as he comes up along the last of combat. Malik has barely voiced an order before his blaster is up and, with two almost blind squeezes of the trigger, he cuts of any further struggling from the smaller mercenary. It's just business.

A look skews off to the pathway ahead of them though, but he doesn't make to scurry off that way just yet. Maybe all that wet leather on him is chaffing, but regardless he simply doesn't seem in the mood for scouting. Instead, the detective heeds whatever vague warning Koa had seen fit to grace them with, and turns back the way they came.

A quiet moment is kept to himself as he looks over his weapon instead of leading as a vanguard once again. Some soft metallic clicks and hisses accompany the practical once-over of the item, perhaps in an attempt to figure out why he can't aim. Troubling, indeed.

[Erisi]

Erisi's brow draws down as she turns her head to look up over her shoulder all the way up at Vos, bridge of her nose wrinkling as she gives him a deeply dirty look, cheeks darkening as she flushes with embarassment. He dared to _notice_ she was not doing well? And call her out on it? "Does it look all right? Does it look like I managed to ignite a human being? Does it?" Asked as her clutched hand is shaken towards him in the air, fury growing within her, even as all the others cull down those folks while she has a pleasant conversation with Vosaurd, "Unless you are BLIND, in addition to being _rude_, then /no/, everything is -not- ~~alright~~." Last spat out in a singsongy way, "I CAN'T EVEN LIGHT A HUMAN ON FIRE." Declared angrily as she strides away to scout down that last tunnel way.

Minutes later, maybe five or so, a throaty scream erupting from that tunnel way, one of pure annoyance and shrill defeat, "IT'S A BLOODY GRAVESITE."

So yeah, they goin' the wrong way.

Eri had knelt down before the holo image as it flickered, a hand reached out as she tried to contain her swollen rage to be polite. And her politeness was met with a nice message to the family and loved ones of the man who's image flickered before her. The system told her it was to remember the man, and then she screamed.

This is not a good day for Erisi Auslese. Not a good day at all.

Rageful and still soaking she'll come, hefting up her robes with both hands now, to round the corner. Someone give her something to burn. And a lighter. With fluid.

[Sebek]

"And you are fat," retorted He Who Hunts.

SHUNK. The sword of the Falleen was driven straight through the torso of the Crystal Guardian, a low strike pushing upwards and pretty much lifting the kid back to his feet. Whether or not the young man still lived after settling this account, Sebek didn't know nor care. Instead, with his free hand, he removed his helmet and let it drop to the ground, revealing a face full of, well, a number of things, really. Pointy teeth, amber eyes, pride, ego, eyeliner, a stupidly high number of earrings, and profound disappointment. He was hoping for more.

"Rue this day," was the quiet velvety command given from the Falleen. "Not because it is your last. But because you have failed." Snap! That was the sound of a clasp at the back of a necklace coming loose through a powerful tug.

Victory for Sebek.

With his eyes locked upon the kyber in his hand, wide with wonder and joy, the reptilian spoke once more. "Your honoured charge will bow to me. Now," lift leg, KICK, get off my sword! His eyes traversed to the kid, who had somehow survived to this point through sheer luck, and just to rub in that last bit of despair, he gave his final command. "Die, He Who Dies."

[Domino]

Domino finds no further threats and powers down her blaster, briefly checking the charge before shoving it into it's blaster with an audible snap-CLICK and trots off down the passageway "Scouting. On it." this time around she's less paranoid and less cautious, travelling down the way with flashlight in hand and moving at a steady lope only to catch sight of Erisi's meltdown.

But Domino's fond of living and having all her limbs intact so she doesn't comment on the Meltdown <<Ah. Dead End this way. So I guess they were just guarding the loot?>> a pause as she eyes Sebek "Oh, I REALLY wouldn't..." her tone low and warning recognizing the veeeery thin ice Vosaurd tap-dances on with Erisi at the moment. She pauses and then hrrms "Nevermind. Dibs on your shinies when she turns you inside out." And with one last glance and trots back to rejoin the others.

[Errod Zand]

"All of the galaxy is a gravesite," Errod rasps hollowly from inside his helmet, taking a shuddering breath as the familiar thrill of battle begins to ebb out of his limbs, shaking out one hand and then the other, swapping his weapon between them. "Every rock is a tombstone. Here lies the shell of a living soul, the epitaph carved on every speck of dust." The blank slate of his mask stares down at the young guardian for a moment before he kneels next to the body Sebek desecrated, closing the eyes with his gloved fingertips. "His fate will be the same as ours."

The same finger points at Syrus. "He Who Dies."

Sebek. "He Who Dies."

Iollan. "He who dies."

A thumb at his own chest. "He who dies."

Straightening, he pulls off his helmet, props his sword against himself, pushes sweat back into his mane, wild eyes staring, sniffing through dilated nostrils. His long mustache is smoothed down while he glances down the only other passage. "Looks like it's back the way we came if you don't want to get your boots wet." The helmet plops back down over his head.

[Vosaurd]

As the bodies around him fall, Vosaurd steadies himself as the stench of death wafts through the area. It's not an unfamiliar smell for him, and as a result it doesn't perturb the Knight too badly. With the caverns once again growing silent, save for the sound of droplets of water and bats in the distance, Vos relaxes with a long and slow exhale. Hands once again shift to pat his wet clothes.

Sebek's desire to get the crystal hanging from the neck of the Guardian isn't lost on him, though he's not entirely sure why. Artifact, maybe? Erisi's sudden outburst, mirroring that of an eruption from a damned volcano is enough to stop any further thoughts on the matter. The diminutive female earns a crease of his brow and a grimace - as if he were truly standing upon the lip of a volcano that is starting to swell. Nothing is said in reply to her, mind you. Not a single word. Instead he looks to some of the others that are around as Erisi storms off, revealing that they were travelling to a gravesite.

"Are we doubling back, then?"

[Malik Ren]

Malik's face can't be read behind his mask, but he does stop to watch Syrus through this moment, through the execution of a person who might have recognized Syrus, if he wasn't hidden behind the terror of a monstrous mask. The wreckage of her body bleeds all over the floor, only barely recognizable as human now, and Malik Ren agrees with Syrus, "It should have been her."

Iollan's businesslike execution of the short mercenary gets what might be a thoughtful look in his direction for a moment, wheels turning in his head, before Malik remarks simply, "You surprise me, Iollan. Usually for the better. How rare."

Somewhere over ---> thataway, Erisi is having a terrible no good very bad day, which Vosaurd is helpfully helping her come to acquaintance with. There's a tilt of the Ren helmet like a little pet listening to a familiar sound, and then, like Domino, he seems to decide not to comment on that. "Back the way we came," Malik decides, and turns that way, the dramatic billowing of his garments somewhat spoiled by the manner in which they're still wet.

Back the way they came, back through the passages! This time, Malik takes the south branch, which quickly reveals itself to branch off again. A sweep of the light to the Northwest - rubble, a collapsed passage. To the southwest - the same. South -- coffins, graves... doubtless more grave goods, there, but this is a rush. To the northeast -- darkness, but a glint of something catching the light? And to the Southeast -- a passageway leading to stairs leading up, up, up, up, up.

"This is the way," Malik decides, regarding the stairs. "The turbolaser battery is at the level where we began, we would have to go up again." A glance down the passage still unknown, "There is something there, but... this is the way up."

[Syrus]

The saber screams back into its hilt and Syrus cuts a look to Malik. Holding it for a moment, he decides against whatever he was going to say, instead forging on back the way that they came.

The Kiffar takes another moment to look around as he walks, eyes landing on a scroll tucked into a clay vessel. It's lifted and regarded for a moment before it's tucked away into a pouch on his belt.

With a satisfactory bit of archaeology done, Syrus moves to head towards the stairs.

[Iollan Canem]

<<"Oh, I'm not going to die,>>" hums the jaunty, useless remark back from Lan, likely directed at Errod's whole situation. Attention still down on his blaster, one last spin of a cannister comes before the whole thing is snapped back into place, meeting whatever standards the gunslinger has. <<"Likely you will though, shortstack.">> Whatever that means.

Witty quips left wayside though, he's halfway turning back towards the stony bridge as Malik addresses him. He's probably smiling under that mask, in that awful way that he does, but only the Force knows. There's a visible upnod to the Ren though, probably in thanks, as he keeps walking. <<"Well, I'm a team player, really.">> Sure he is.

And, as such a vehement supporter of his team, Lan keeps more towards the front of the column as they double back now. Weapon loose at his side, he nods up towards the southeast, mostly in agreement of the directions. Time to get some cardio.

[Erisi]

Erisi is quite blinded by her fury. With jaw set tightly she'll let her robes drop down so that they wetly swish along the floor, cleaning it and leaving a path behind her, finding absolutely nothing of value, nor anything to burn. With an imperious posture she sweeps towards those stairs behind Syrus, sucking down any complaints about the stairs. Nope. She will conquer SOMETHING, and if it's going to be the damned stairs, it's gonna be the damned stairs.

Force bless her lungs, as it already has blessed her backside.

Amen.

[Sebek]

Sebek was buoyed. Victory was his. He had his kyber. He had his little stone paperweight. Life was good. "Yes, He Who Leads," he agreed with Malik, looking up and up and up and up and up... "And yet, caution. For our return," he gestured towards the northeast path, "is unobserved. Should there be whelps hiding in ambush, best they fail."

Did he just not want to climb the stairs? No. His focus was locked on whence they came. He flicked his sword, discarding a little bit of the blood that had stained the blade. "I shall return to the well and rise. Upon exeunt, your safety preserved by my watch." Maybe he just wanted time to stare at his pretty crystal.

[Domino]

Domino's derisive snort at Iollan's comment is mostly muffled by her helmet but there's a slight headshake as she moves to trot up the stairs, ego to beat the stampede of feet to keep an eye out for anything else tricky-valueables are noted but uncharacteristically go otherwise wholly ignored. Also she's been unusually quiet after her rant about crotch-rubbing ropes. It's almost like she's treating this like a JOB or something!

[Errod Zand]

"The great delusion of life is that it was ever there at all. On a long enough timeline there's no real difference between one corpse and another, whether one is standing on its feet and talking, or lying in the dirt." Errod follows along behind Malik, glancing down the various pathways on offer, nodding at the assessment. "The goal lies above. Unless anyone has a reason to linger." His helmet turns towards Syrus expectantly.

[Vosaurd]

Vosaurd follows the others, robes squelching with every step he takes. They encounter dead ends, more graves and probably even some more traps! But once they finally start getting on the right path, a bit of inspiration and renewed vigour starts to swell within his cold bones. Looking up at the stairs with an assessing gaze, he looks back to the others. "Let's do what we came to do." Vosaurd suggests once they reach the cross roads. "Once we disable the battery we can come back and explore more? But the battery is the priority we are here for."

[Malik Ren]

It's a lot of stairs. Everyone thinks they can handle a lot of stairs until they actually have to handle a lot of stairs, and then it's another matter entirely.

Iollan and Syrus, perhaps predictable given their impressive physiques, power up the stairs! Wiry old weirdo Errod Zand leaps up them as well, keeping pace with the others. They look great. They feel great. They did not skip leg day. Everyone knows they would never skip leg day.

Somewhere in the middle are Domino and Malik, who are definitely in the category of 'slightly more likely to skip leg day,' and whose reprobate pasts may be to some degree working against them here. They're making it. Only just.

Back down..... down, down... the stairs are Erisi and Vosaurd, together by some cruel twist of wheezy fate, and whatever they might want to say to each other about it is unknown. Cause neither of them is gonna catch their breath anytime soon.

The stairs do eventually end, reaching the top of the crater crest again in blinding and sudden light at the end of the tunnel. Light is streaking across the sky from a space battle above, and the report of the turbolaser battery is so loud, everyone will have to yell to be heard.

A sentry in the attire of the Guardians of the Whills turns around abruptly from his position on the battery bunker roof, and spots the dark intruders immediately! He draws a light bow, aims, and with another BOOM from the battery, the battle is joined.