Log:Knights of Ren: Wroshyr Machine II
Wroshyr Machine (part 2)
OOC Date: October 28 2020
Location: Kashyyyk
Participants: Knights of Ren: Errod Zand, Syrus, Sebek, Imani, Erisi Auslese, Oozlevort, Tarq Najjic, Tamsin Cas, Andro Tain, and Malik Ren as GM
Emboldened by the First Order's defeat at Carida, Wookiee uprisings have been plaguing the forest planet of Kashyyyk! Terrorist acts and propaganda, riots and threats -- unwilling to tolerate further disturbance of the peace, the First Order has dispatched its most unique special-forces group to the planet's surface. The Knights of Ren are here, to get to the bottom of this and exterminate the terrorist cell.
The mission began with the interrogation of four Wookiees: Nagorral, Tarchiir, Rathak, and Kerriwar. Tarchiir was executed by the blade of Syrus after it was determined he had hostile intentions but no useful information; Nagorral - outed as a terrorist by his comrades - was grievously wounded by Sebek after taunting the Falleen into a fury. Rathak and Kerriwar earned their lives by 'cooperating' and parting with information, but were dispatched to the spice mines of Kessel, lest they have a chance to warn their comrades...
Tarq and Andro were told to wait in the car. Troublemakers. Tamsin's been spared her new friends' interrogation tactics, but was brought along for the probable need to tape everybody back together during and after the mission! The Knights who were present at the interrogation found that Kerriwar said there /is/ a terrorist cell, and that where they're hiding is the old Czerka base deep in the forest...
That's far from hospitable country, however, and the passage through the forest has been treacherous, miserable, and dangerous for everyone.
Also, no one determined if Kerriwar was lying.
The net result of this is that the Knights have been wandering around the enormous, many-storied Czerka base for HOURS, not to mention the journey to get down to such hazardous forest levels to begin with, and they do not have a single Wookiee to show for it yet. The dangerous part of the forest /is/ a logical place for this cell.. but there's a lot of forest.
Why is Andro Tain along for this trip? Eradicating a terrorist cell never exactly fell under an archaeologist's job description - but her combat skills and willingness for violence are not nonexistant. Most importantly, however, Andy was never going to durn down an oppurtunity to explore Kashyyk! The green-skinned woman is absolutely thrilled; anyone near her has been forced to hear an elaborated outline on the cultural and architectural importance of the wroshyr trees at least twice. In fact, the only time her mood has faltered at all was a brief period spent absolutely trapped in the web of some sort of massive, horrible spider... But, even then, she had seemed more interested in the makeup of the web, of where else these creatures could be, and how old this tree must be, than she did her own imminent demise.
Following the long, tedious process of freeing her, Andy has quieted down, and the archaeologist now silently follows behind the other Knights, though her wide-eyed expression remains fixed, and bits of web still trail from her clothing.
Oozlevort the Gand Findsman was brought along for his uncanny ability at prognostication. "The Mists have shown Oozlevort many things. In this base..." There is a SNAP-CRACK as part of a log bridge he is traversing partially gives way. He pitches over the side like an overfull spoil tip and falls several levels, banging off the trees and branches. "AHHHHHHHHHHhhhhh" he cries before eventually becoming wedged in the angle between a Wroshyr tree and its lower branch.
Despite being ensconced in his terrifying, fancy armor, Syrus managed to happen upon a swarm of cantankerous flying insects far more dangerous than any amount of jetpack-carried Oozlevorts. Subject to their stinging and fiery bites, Syrus finds himself even more grumpy than usual as they draw nearer and nearer to the old base. "A plague on this Galaxy," he mutters, trying to scratch at his arm where some of them had managed to sneak through the protective plates.
"Again!" Tarq stares at a wall where no creature currently perches. "The bird is hunting me." More quietly, "The bird is /haunting/ me." He closes one eye, then covers the open eye with his left hand. "Little bird does not know I have had many trips, many hall-oo-sin-o-gens." He opens the eye that he closed, still covering the other, keeping pace with the troop. His stunsaber, for all the good it will do him, is in his right hand, ready for action - or what he sees as action.
"Sorry, sorry ..." Among the ramblings of Andy, Erisi herself has had to atone for making a horrific decision to take what she thought was a short-cut, but ended up adding a lot of time they didn't have, causing everyone to emerge back, maybe a yard off from where they started before her suggestion.
"I mean ...if it wasn't for that decision, which, even I know was bad, I know, but ...LOOK." Magnaminously she is pointing off to where Ooozle fell, hazel eyes bright with delight and deep amusement, "We wouldn't have seen /that/, and c'mon." Her chin tucks in towards her chest as she gives those nearest her a look like 'you know I'm right', "So just made my mood that much better. He's not dead, is he."
A sigh, head cocking to the side and a sidelong glance given to either side, something compelling her to check. Robes rustle softly around her ankles as she traverses to the edge to crouch down, butt tucked up as she leans in on her hands to cautiously peer over to see where the Gand is lodged, "Pity." Resignation which is followed by a sigh caused by the weight of responsibility bearing down on her, "Oh all right."
She curves a wide smile as left hand lifts up and she reaches out over the edge, focusing on the Gand to ever to gently coax the force to not crush the Gand, but lift him up and out of the space he's fallen into. She's in a good mood because of Ooz, he might as well benefit as well.
It's been a long day.
"At least it's Natunda," Errod growls in a low rasp as he picks his way through the thick underbrush, on who knows what hour of the search for the Czerka base. His face, weathered and scarred as it was already, bears strange red marks that run across it here and there and down his neck, like long ropes were wrapped around it. "I must admit, there was a minute there I thought you lot would leave me up there," he rasps, finger hooking into the empty cig box in one of his pockets and dropping dejectedly away.
"What haunts me is, that as the vines were pulling me up towards the gaping maw of a basin filled whose gelatinous sludge would turn my flesh into soup over the course of the next few decades, in a way, I welcomed it. Saw the beauty in it, the poetry. An inversion to spell out my life's final line. The indifference of nature pulling me in to consume that which has made a life out of consuming." Two fingertips brush at the corner of his mouth, smoothing over his horseshoe mustache, tired eyes staring into the foliage, then glancing with a sort of vague disinterest in the direction Oozlevort hurtled. "That we ever lived at all seems far more absurd."
Quite unlike, well, probably just about every other member of this team, Tamsin Cas had no combat skills. She had, of course, worn the robes she had been issued, She had attached the hilt of the weapon she had been issued to the belt that went with the robes. She had not, however, actually ever drawn the weapon, much less tried her hand at wielding it. But along she went, her bag securely tucked away at her side. Ready for whatever might come. Except that loose bit of plating she had fallen into that had left her dangling a hair away from falling down a space well and needing to struggle back up onto solid dureacrete. She'd almost lost her back, and she had certainly lost the water supply she had brought with her. She'd made no mention of it though. She'd simply soldiered on, fighting that growing thirst and the lightheadedness that came with it.
Imani was present for the interrogation, so of course she has to be here for this part. The part where there's violence, because that's more of her expertise than information seeking interrogation. She hasn't complained about their long trudge through the large forest, listening politely to Andro's lengthy lesson about the importance of the Worshyr tree. Just don't give her a quiz, because she definitely didn't actually learn anything.
The tail end of the lecture was interrupted by an audible 'urp' that seems to surprise even her, which shows in how her wide her eyes are as she glances at the others. "I'm so sorry. Excuse me." Though she continues to not complain, her usually swarthy complexion is a touch paler than is normal for her, and she's grimacing more than is warranted for a jungle hike.
"Are you..." Imani doesn't know Tarq well, and what she's seen of him doesn't go against the idea that he might be on something causing hallucinations. "Are you up to keep going?" she asks as delicately as one asks as delicately as she can.
Yes. Well.
Sebek of the Desert, Flagbearer of Coret, Conqueror of the Sixteenth Deck, Consumer of Hounds, Wielder of Tei Tenga, He Who Hunts was having a no good very bad day. You see, his raiment was torn. It was torn! Ugh! Glowing lights of beguilement and bewilderment had baffled the bloodthirsty brute with bonds of battle and brawling and beckoned him into a trap most foul. Because, you see, what greater prison is the irony of the soul? After much thrashing, shredding, and promises of consumption of spawn and ancestors and relations, Sebek was extracted from the toothy maw of the lure beast, chagrined, furious, his skin flickering amongst shades of yellows and oranges in barely-contained rage.
"Please, allow the nest of insurgents to be upon us. For Tei Tenga thirsts and I hunger." Oh yeah there he went complaining about his stomach again. He should have listened to She Who Slaughters and packed snacks. His pelt was not present, thank himself, for sullying the Pelt of Arrikkata was heresy most foul.
So this is, you know, going well.
Malik was not immune to calamitous circumstance, himself. He got lost for a while all by himself, and was just completely disappeared from the group until someone noticed a conspicuous lack of short Coruscanti in this group. Eventually, the party was rejoined, but no one is having a good time out here. They found the base, indeed, but it's nothing but empty, empty, empty, full of evil plants and ferocious animals, hazards both environmental and beastly.
No Wookiees.
"Stop. STOP," Malik finally calls a halt and a gather-round to this trudge, and one hand lifts to pull his helmet off, annoyed, mopping back sweaty helmet-hair. Really it's a good day for everyone. "We're getting nowhere." That much is obvious. 'Hey, that wookiee lied to us,' is also obvious, but he doesn't state that bit, and anyway, Kerriwar's already off to what's arguably a fate worst than death.
He draws a breath, lets it out. "Stop and refocus," the Ren suggests. "Experienced Force-sensitives, reach out into the Force, focus your mind, and tell me what you can find, if anything. The rest of you, take a moment to drink something." He raises a brow at Tamsin, and wordlessly hands her his canteen before continuing. "Then search, listen, attune yourselves, and see if you can figure out or perceive anything new."
It was not unnoticed that Imani listened to Andy's lecture with less disdain and more attention than others may have - it is also not unnoticed that this excursion has continued to descend into a deepening chaos from whence none can escape... But they do escape! Kind of; they get a break, and she's got a pair of tired feet that are grateful for it. This isn't new for her - minus the heavily armed, Force sensitive, god-like figures in attendence, traversing hazardous environments in search of rumors is kind of... Her whole thing. Andy unstoppers her water and takes a long drink. Why would the Wookiees be near this base, anyway? It just didn't... Seem...
Oh, of course.
Re-stopping her canteen with a sense of mild urgency, Andro Tain clears her throat. "This is all wrong - this place. Th'Wookiees view these trees with reverence, there's no way they'd stick 'round after they were all torn down. This was violation of a sacred place t'them - there aren't any signs of /life/ here. We need t'look further away from -" she waves her arms to gesture around them. "-/This/."
Tarq glances at Imani. "I am fine. The bird spat at me. Its venom..." He closes one eye again and focuses. "I see and hear things. I am clean for the mission," he insists. He turns his head at another reptavian's squawking call. "I hope you heard that, too," he says quietly.
When the order to halt comes around, he uncaps his canteen and takes a swig. He digs at some accumulated dirt near a wall with his boot. He puts his canteen back on his belt, feeling along the wall for some kind of hidden door or tricky opening. He looks into a crack, and his eyes widen and he takes a step back. His mouth opens, but he closes it, covering his eyes, taking a deep breath, and looking again. He says nothing.
"Oh sweet Myrtle." Erisi notes as that helmet comes off Malik, lips pulled back around her teeth, eyeballing the man as her hands recoil back to her chest after she's finished lifting herself and Oozle up, "Oh." Not a good look for Mal, but Eri forces a smile, ever so sweet and small, "Your hair is so ..pretty. The air .." Left hand gently lifts from chest to swirl fingers around as she readies a compliment, "Is doing you wonders."
Lips press together into a thin line before she makes a 'pop' as they drag apart at his orders, "Right, right ..Okay." She's experienced, right? Totally. With a shake of her head and a ruffle of her bangs she'll reach into the pockets of her robes to rummage around, pulling out a glasses case and drawing out her thinking spectacles, beautiful thick rimmed green garnet things which are set on her face, case tucked away.
Focus.
A deep breath in ...Andy speaks. It's okay. Focus.
Lips are sucked in against teeth as she forces herself to not think about what Andy said, because Eri knows she's right, just not why, which is why she's trying to /focus/.
Finally she takes a few steps off to the side away from the group to drop down onto her knees, bobbing her head softly up and down as she tries to concentrate. Lips purse, and she exhales out slowly, getting deep in touch with the quietness of the rage that ever broils within herself, "Yes ..." Hands drop from thighs to touch the earth and grass and moss and everything else beneath her hand, probably some bug poop, getting a better connection with herself and the environs.
"We're in too old of a place ..they've sought out newer growth away from here. She's right ..we have to go where the new growth is, they're enraged, which makes them /think/ we can't find them, but that rage ..I can feel it, as we get closer, I think you all will too. It will brighten them like a beacon in the minds eye." Eyes flicker open, nostrils flaring as her eyes water a little, meditating always feels weird. Like a sneeze tickling but unwilling to come out.
A soft laugh then, the forced eloquence of the force leaving her as Erisi emerges from her meditation, "Wow, that was a bunch of hoo-haw - Andro has it, we gotta go to where things are grown and trees are there for them to perch in." Said as she rises up and yanks off her glasses, one arm bent down with her lips before they get tucked into the neck of her pretty robes, "Their furry butts are in new growth." WHERE that growth is, well. A shrug to a question not asked.
Oozlevort is lifted by Erisi's mind magic. "Oh, Oozlevort is flying!" he says as he is slowly levitated and then dropped by the witch. He hits the ground and finds something. A powerpack ! Likely for a bow caster. "Ah, the MISTS have guided Oozlevort to a clue. This is a modern power device for one of the savage missile casters!" He hands the powerpack to Erisi and proceeds to dust off his Knight of Ren-styled findsman robe.
While the others are stopping and beginning to look in an effectual way, Errod stops and sort of moseys around with the classic disinterest of someone who doesn't really care about what they're looking for. "A sacred place. What is sacred? What is /holy/, in a galaxy made of everything wicked and vile? There is no purity in nature, no clean slate of nature undefiled. These trees grew from the graveyard commonly known as the soil, their sap as full of blood as any veins."
He puffs out a derisive snort, shaking his head, looking about with wild eyes. "Blind sentimentality, revering that which is old, that which cannot speak its folly aloud, making a demon into a god. The Wookiee is hardly alone in this, but few have perfected the perversion so completely." Finished judging, at least for the moment, he lapses into a pensive silence.
Was it pride or sheer force of dogged determination that kept Tamsin's mouth shut when Malik gave the order for them to rest and rehydrate? Quite probably a bit of both, for the good doctor. But it made no difference, as he seemed to pick up on the crux of the matter and she accepted the canteen with a soundless 'Thank you'. When she took a sip, however, it was a small one. Just enough, as she judged, to relieve the worst of the symptoms. There was not enough for two in his supplies, and she made to hand the canteen back as soon as she could. And then, she frowned, turning away to study the area they had likely tramped across too many times t count, trying to recall everything she had gleaned on those devastated worlds that helped her team find survivors. This was about the same thing, wasn't it?
Away she walked. Not enough of a distance from the team that she would risk falling down another well unseen, but enough to study the area without so many other bodies moving in her peripheral vision. Walking beneath the darkening trees, she allowed her eyes to shift, searching for something, anything that she might be able to pick out. And then, the call, "There was a struggle here, by the southern gate!" She knelt, out of force of habit retrieving a specimen bag and tweezers to retrieve the tuft of fur that had been caught on a sharp point, "Broken branches and signs of a tumble as they ran."
Imani hasn't a handkerchief, or any cloth, or anything good for mopping sweat from her brow, so she uses the back of her gloves to kind of squeegee it off of her forehead since they're not exactly absorbent either. "A bird?" she asks Tarq, sounding skeptical of the 'the bird got me high' story. "Okay. As long as you're with it enough to keep going." She gives him a firm, supportive clap on the back, then turns to really take a good look around.
She doesn't wander away from the group too far, far enough, and high enough to try and get a better vantage point. "Yeah," she says from her slightly higher perch. "This would be a terrible place to stay, there are so many creatures here. It looks like there is friendlier ground to the south of us, if we're going to look anywhere it seems like all the clues point in that direction."
"And thus the truth is free. Behold, Those Who Rage." Sebek had sat down cross-legged and, rather ironically, looked at peace as he grabbed the Force by its metaphorical throat and devoured the information he was looking for. A small smile, which did not look right on the normally screaming face of the Falleen, made its presence known. "Glorious prey is foolish prey. Spurred on by fickle hope. Fat. Fat in arrogance. Fat in delusion. Known is thus that the hunt always ends with the hunter sinking in his teeth." His amber eyes snapped open and his gaze turned to look straight at the area where He Who Ignites was describing. "They climb and climb to Lofty heights, seeking their freedom. Alas, what is most dreadful is agreement with He Who Cares. They are doomed to the fate of dirt."
If anyone needed evidence Malik isn't Oran, it lies in the fact that he doesn't seem to care about the state of his hair at present, or about the shade Erisi's throwin' at it. Oran would care. RIP.
Malik, however, is listening intently to each Knight in turn, processing and assessing their individual pieces of evidence, looking around as he considers the synthesis of all of it. The canteen is accepted back with neither gratitude toward Tamsin for not drinking it all, or scolding for losing hers. "So, there are a number of reasons they wouldn't have wanted /this/ as their headquarters. Agreed. A wookiee fleeing South, for some reason... a base in the Wroshyr trees, but new growth."
Think, think.
"They're better in the trees than we are, but if we approach along the ground, we'll run into more wildlife," they already had tons of fun with that, Andy's webbed and Tarq's trippin balls. "And they'll have the high ground." Malik points up. "We go as high as we can through the upper levels of Czerka's base, south, towards the new growth, and Force willing, we may get the drop on them." He pulls his helmet back on, and the vocoder altered voice advises, "Watch your step."
And so they will keep going! Up and South - there is a savage joy in the journey itself, and Andy doesn't bother trying to hide it around these. She is built for this, and put aside the abilities of her companions, she is holding her own. Better than her own, should the CRASH of bodies through vegetation be any indicator. Into the trees the archaeologist ascends, pulling her vibro-ax free (with vibrations switched off) and using it to give herself leverage. THUNK. Grunt. THUNK. Grunt.
Up the tree Tarq goes. There are not as many branches as he would like, given their tendencies to run into other branches and merge, but he finds a few, bracing his weight on them. Then he needs to move laterally if he is to continue his ascent. Tarq eyes a nice branch a few feet over. Too far to stretch, but maybe if he carefully leaps while gripping the tree, he can make his feet catch.
He carefully leaps while gripping the tree, but his feet do not catch /because that branch does not exist/. Still, clinging to the tree as he is, he slides down safely. This is a man who used to break into buildings and take things for a living. Climbing is just part of the job. He starts again, this time double-blinking and holding before each handhold.
"Here is a WILD idea ..." Erisi grouses as she pushes up her sleeves to begin the climb she's dreading entirely, "I could just set everything on fire, and they'd fall out of the trees like ripe berries, and we just pick their furry asses off. I mean ..Sebek ..think of all that roasted .." Grunt, huff ..soft series of curses, blisters forming on burn mottled hands, "...Meat ...all the ..juices ..boiling meat to ..succulent ..tender ..fall off the bone ..." More swearing, Eri breaking out into a drenching sweat though she somehow manages the climb, if barely, gripping rough branches and digging nails into bark to force her way up on pure anger.
They're not taking to the trees like Wookiees necessarily, that would make them as bad as the thing they came to destroy, so Errod picks his way up into the upper levels of the ruins of the Czerka construction, heading southward and carefully, quietly, cautiously moving along. Until he falls from the upper levels, landing with a rattle and clank in a pile of black clothing, armor, and weaponry.
Luckily for everyone, he grunts out a "krif" a moment later, and pulls himself upright again. He gives himself a shake and seems unharmed, judging only by the fact that he looks as bad and seems as irritable as before he fell.
Having made her find, and secured her sample, Tamsin returned to the gathered group, using those last few minutes before they began again to recover her strength. And then the trek began again, the need to climb as well as walk adding insult to injury. But at least the holes in the flooring were easier to see, and Tamsin's fingers, nimble from years at the operating suite served her well as she climbed, pulling herself up at times as she needed to to keep apace with the group. When they reached the trees, that was almost easier. She still remembered the old tricks she had taught herself as a child. Each time she heard what sounded like a fall or a tumble, she paused, calling out, "If you are injured, I'd rather treat you now than later." Just putting that out there, as the team soldiered on.
South, and up. This doesn't sound so bad in theory, but in practice it proves to be more difficult. Imani manages just fine for a little bit, but one handhold in particular proves to be more treacherous than anticipated as one of those gloved hands grips a branch that is particularly mossy. When she tries to hold on, the branch just kind of sloughs off her hand, and that's all it takes for her to tumble. She doesn't fall far, but her forehead connects with a branch along the way causing a split in the skin above her eyebrow that immediately begins to bleed to an obnoxious degree, as head wounds are known to do. "I'm okay!" she assures everyone, but looks a bit like a horror show when she makes her way back up.
To ascend! Yes! A height most glorious indeed! The murky lands of the deep dark jungle should have been pleasing to the semi-amphibious Falleen, but Sebek was a desert creature. Humidity irked him much the same way He Who Learns' mere existence did. "Efficient, yes," agreed the hardly-breathing-hard climber as he jumped just that little bit farther, little bit longer than a normal sentient being. Trees were full of handholds and footholds, and though the climb was better suited to Wookiees, when you had bound the mysteries of the universe into your limbs nothing is impossible. "The prey will die, but wildfire brings charcoal. Behold the subtle flame, grilled lightly, and /personally/."
There was a pause.
"Also, hair is not good for teeth."
The Force is with the group as their fact-finding and meditative powers lead them in the right direction -- to the south, indeed, the truly massive trees in Czerka base territory give way to slimmer, newer growth. The trees are still massive, and even young wroshyr are on a different scale than trees of most other planets. The sparser growth makes climbing difficult in places though, as several find to their peril...!
Eventually, peeking through the trees, the first sign of civilization, and the encampment. The climb proves to have been advantageous, however difficult, because now they are looking DOWN at the clustered huts, rope bridges, ramps, and shelters of a remote Wookiee settlement. It might be just that, hermits deep in the woods, except they can be spotted down there... and one of them, a gray-furred beast with goggles over his eyes, is building what looks like a bomb on a table.
White stormtrooper helmets that once belonged to the First Order's finest are set on pikes around the edges of the camp, a grisly warning to outsiders.
Malik studies the scene below for a moment, then decides, "We will not have the element of surprise for long. Draw, and do not hesitate. Jump down, attack, set fires, and do not take prisoners. Tamsin, Tarq, do not allow yourselves to be separated or vulnerable. Choose your targets wisely, and stay with us."
One last glance to the group, then he cries havoc and lets slip the dogs of war!
"Teach these creatures the error of their ways."
They should be getting closer, now - the signs are everywhere! And still, they climb until they are looking /down/ on their quarry. The Wookiee are a fascinating people, a guttural language that Andy wishes she could better understand - but these thoughts are not important. Her curiosities are not important - because right now, she is being paid to attack, to burn, and to leave none alive. Who is to say that she can't go through a few rooms while she does? Yes, that is the plan. With her ax still embedded in the bark of the tree to keep her steady, Andy lets out a harsh puff of breath and kicks off HARD, aiming to wrench her weapon free and fall with it into the back of the nearest terrorist.
The ax doesn't budge, and Andy's own momentum jerks her back into the trunk with a mighty OOMPH before releasing her weapon, and allowing them both to fall, ungainly, into the fray. She hits nobody.
Tarq once told Syrus via pantomime that he was more used to stabbing people in the back than having a fair fight, and that's exactly what they're doing. The weapon is just not one he is used to. He jumps down, rolling forward to kill his momentum, and even as he rises back up to stand, he holds up his left hand. One of the spears with the stormtrooper helmets has fallen, and it is this one that suddenly rises, helmet still attached, and speeds its way towards one of the lesser guards along the perimeter, bouncing off the back of his head. There is no skewering, but there's an audible CLUNK against bone and muscle. Tarq raises his stunsaber against the inevitable counterattack.
"Oh my Goddess, pick a direction, up OR down, Malik, I swear." Whispered tersely by Erisi, all that work just to come tumbling down, "I'm going to die from a broken ankle." She knows it, and words are murmured to herself, a bracing nod given as she draws herself up to ready to jump. Instead her foot slips and she goes down with a flutter of her robes up around her, woman gathering the sudden swell of ANGER at having slipped to summon from somewhere within a recovery but moments before disaster, doing a sick roll, robes fluttering about her form as she comes up onto one knee, looking like she MEANT to do that. Barely, but just enough.
Running on that adrenaline she snaps her hand out to focus on that grizzled leader looking Wookie, willing the atoms of his fur and the air around him to vibrate angrily. A raking of her fingers through the air then and FWOOSH, flame erupts in angry bluish white, settling into orange-red hues once it's latched, to set the Wookiee aflame, Eri growling as she forces herself up to a stand, robes smoothed down with an indignant sneer, "I can take care of the fur to spare your delicate teeth, Sebek." Erisi hisses, readying her gaze for her next target, or to assault the same should she be tickled so.
When the order to jump comes, Errod doesn't hesitate. With his plain-faced helmet on, he moves to leap, and the footing he's on gives way under his weight. It's more of a fall than a jump, and he drops with the grace of an anvil. The hunter angles his blade out as he sails down, attempting to spike the Wookiee building the bomb before his work of destruction can be completed, but he spears the ground instead, and for the second time, rattles around as he plops flat. This time, though, there's killing to be done.
He's been getting better at this chainwhip thing. As he realizes what's gone wrong, the blade loses its rigidity, and holding tightly to the handle, he pulls it snakelike in his wake while he tumbles back to his feet. With an audible snap and sizzle of plasma, Errod cracks the weapon back into that wicked spike, jabbing it forward as he rolls into a crouch with alarming speed and precision. The Wookiee is pierced effortlessly through the chest, the faint stench of scorched fur and burnt flesh nothing in comparison to the bonfire Erisi is starting already.
As the hunting party, for that was what this wasn't, wasn't it? Came up on their prey, there was a long enough pause for Tamsin to do what Tamsin was made to do and she scanned the faces and person of the team, moving between the party towards Imani. "Let me see to that. Too much blood in your eyes and you'll be blinded." As she walked and certainly as she talked, she was already pulling out supplies from her back. If she paused to gain the woman's permission, well, let's be honest. She didn't. She simply worked. No time for the niceties. She was quick though, the small bit of work requiring only a swab to sterilize and clean the area and then a second only to spread on a bacta bandage, the square tingling with that cool iciness as it both healed and anaesthetized the wound. She offered a cloth before she stepped back, "For the rest of your face." That was a lot of blood. She heard the orders from Malik and frowned. No argument, only a hand reaching for the hilt at her belt, and the buttons she was fairly certain as the 'on' button. Stay with Tarq. She could do that. And so she did, moving in close as she could. Hopefully not so close that he hit her, or she hit herself. When her battle buddy threw out his hand to do, whatever it was he was doing, Tamsin ducked to the side, her own hand coming up to stop her from tumbling aside. Or perhaps she was doing some ridiculous form of 'I come in peace. Don't shoot!' She was a non-combatant. Or she was. Reflex.
Imani pulls her weapon free, but keeps it held out to the side as the cut on her forehead is patched up by Tamsin. She's not a bad patient, but the orders are given to jump down to the lower level and attack, and she's antsy to get into the thick of things. Which is why when she's given the rag to wipe away the blood on her face, she does a real poor job at cleaning it up. Swipe, swipe, some of it is absorbed into the cloth, a lot of it is smeared around on her face. She looks crazy. Maybe it'll work to her advantage. "Thanks, doc." She gives a broad smile that curves slightly bloody lips, and then she drops to the level below, managing to fall on purpose better than she did going in the other direction. She lands, then straightens enough to make a mad dash for the nearest wookiee. Her first swipe misses, but the second connects with a brutal degree of force.
From within the trees came the sound of doom.
Behold the Falleen atop his perch, holding a blade of fire and fury in the air, bellowing out the noise of the End louder than any hunting horn. Behold, prey, for you have been graced with the presense of He Who Hunts. The beast of the Knights of Ren launched himself from the tree and plunged Tei Tenga into the ground next to one of the more ornamented Wookiees. Tei Tenga was a horrible thing. The hilt itself was almost double the length of a normal lightsaber, closer to a saberstaff, but in place of the second emitter was a small pommel flanged menacingly like an ancient crushing weapon. It had already claimed the blood and bones of Jeedai and now it was time to claim lesser prey. The backhanded swing took the measure of the Wookiee and found him to be a canny opponent, twisting and moving out of way of both the hilt strike and the follow-up swing. "Yes! YES! Behold the fury of the hardy prey! Prove yourself! Become worthy of having your pelt enshrined next to your ancestor!"
Pandemonium erupts!
The terrorist cell relied too heavily on the secrecy of their camp, they assumed too strongly that the First Order would never find them here. Stormtroopers and TIE pilots don't fall out of trees. They're used to dispatching rare Stormtrooper patrols with ease, from above, as the soldiers struggle with the hazards involved in traveling Kashyyyk's soil...
Knights are a different sort of creature.
Their presence is announced with an axe-swing and then a javelin launched by telekinesis and poetic justice! Errod Zand follows this with a summary decapitation, and then the Wookiee Leader howls in fury as she's on fire. ON FIRE! So that's a surprise, unwelcome to be sure. Howling in surprise and pain, she races to dunk herself in a nearby water trough, which will help with the flames.... but there are always more flames where those came from.
The camp is roused now, and reinforcements arrive!! It's not in the nature of Wookiees to run away, and these run /toward/, three powerful, tall beings -- fangs bared in fury as they are unable to find purchase on Erisi or Sebek, but one seizes Imani and throws her like a rag-doll!
Malik chops in half the creature already wounded by Imani, already turning to track the injured flight of Best Ren as she's injured. "DOCTOR." One word only, but clear instructions.
They're on the ground - or, the tree, as it is - and Andy knows that this is not her area of expertise. She is not a creature of the Force, but just at the whim of it, and still she's going to fight.
But she's going to fight /her/ way. Andy casts a discerning eye about the walkway - this was hastily constructued, constantly being improved upon, and therefor weak to the tests of nature, and of Knight. Ducking low, the Mirialan runs towards the walkway and raises her ax above her head, re-establishing vibrations, before bringing it down. THWACKbzzz. THWACKbzzzzz. THWACKbzzz. Her weapon chews into the planks of the walkway, weakening them, splitting them apart - and then she moves on, staying low, with an opening made for the more competent fighters of the group.
Tarq looks ahead, then looks sideways at Tamsin. Only then, despite all this time in proximity, does it click for him, and he points at her enthusiastically with his free hand. "Taxi buddy!" His smile shows off plenty of white teeth. "Reenactment time! Imani? Taxi. You and me? Behind." Even as he speaks, Imani manages to spike the leader on the backswing!
Then reinforcements arrive and send Imani flying, and Tarq's smile vanishes. He moves to stay between their medic and the reinforcements. When one of the original Wookiees in the camp makes for Imani, he looks at the demolitionist's table and grabs the heaviest-looking tool with his mind. The piece of durasteel is indeed weightier than anything Tarq has ever attempted to lift, but in the heat of the moment, he swings his whole arm forward and the tool knocks over their erstwhile counter-ambusher. Then he just covers Tamsin. That blade is just for looks, let's be honest, but he holds it up.
"Oh, no you don't. You do not --" The sight of the Leader dousing herself in a water trough causing Erisi to enrage further, quick striding steps drawing her forwards as she raises her hands yet again in the air, "I promised my friend Sebek a meal, and you are the only one ---worthy--- " Growled out as she once again sweeps her hand through the air as she sets the air around the Wookiee along with her fur on fire once more, water misting as steam around her fur, no doubt causing further injury.
Those quick strides somehow carry her through potential attackers, Erisi nudging her shoulder this way and barely escaping a claw with a dismissive wave of her right hand at the unworthy, diminutive fireball intent on cooking that Leader good.
When Imani is tossed bodily into the air, Errod comes hurtling in after her, either for defense or revenge. The blade in his hands lashes outward towards the nearest Wook, smacking into its chest with a meaty squelch, but the backhand misses any additional targets. He fell twice today, give the poor existential bastard a break.
What was she even doing with this thing? She didn't even know how to use it! And the wookiees. Curse them! She had just fixed that one up. How dare they?! Tamsin's hand clenched around the hilt of the weapon as she dashed across the field, trying to get to Imani to take a knee beside her. "That's me!" Ah, the moments of recognition. The saber she tossed down on the ground by her side. She needed both hands for this. Thank goodness it was not a true saber. Why? Because no one liked forest fires when they were //in// the forest. She got to work, supplies pulled out with unthinking ease. She knew all of her tools and where she stored them without even needing to look. "I've got you. Right as rain soon enough, I promise." If she noticed the danger she had put herself in there was no sign of it as she worked. Or perhaps there was, as she settled in to position herself to put her body between the downed fighter and the oncoming threat. "Tarq!", Tamsin called, as he was closest to her, "I've got to get her back to the ship, she needs more than I can fix like this." She did not look happy about it.
Imani whips around as the reinforcements arrive, weapon swept back to make another attack, but she's grabbed. Grabbed, lifted as if she weighed nothing. When standing in comparison to a wookiee, she doesn't, which means she flies through the air with the greatest of ease, and slams right into the broad trunk of a nearby tree. She's wearing her armor, but that can only help so much, and the fact that she's hurt is evident by the fact that she doesn't immediately jump back up.
There are a number of injuries that resulted from collision with the tree, injuries that will need the tender mercies of a doctor, and time to see them set right, but the news that she has to go back to the ship is met with a, "No. I can stay. I can fight." Can she? She's damned sure going to try, grimacing with pain and more than one unladylike grunt, she's slowly getting back to her feet. There's a bit of a stagger to one side as she stands, but she grabs hold of something to keep herself upright. See, totally fine.
There was a horrible red fwing around the neck of the immolated Wookiee Leader. His head went one way, his body went down. Behind the collapsing figure, entering She Who Ignites' field of view, was Sebek of the Desert. "Behold." Yes, that was hello. "Though the prey is weak, it is cooked adequately. Pink, yet bloody, with appropriate seasoning..." there was a hissing sound as the Falleen sucked air through his teeth with great satisfaction, "Delicious. Well done."
Was that a compliment?
"But first, it is time for exercise." And by exercise, Sebek meant slaughter. The mad cackling started as the Falleen descended upon the weak and unwilling with reckless abandon, gaining a net positive in kills versus strikes as he basically waded through the carnage. "Ha ha ha Ha Ha Ha HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!"
The Reinforcements are focusing their ire on the fire-setter, the people swinging laser-bats around, but it avails them nothing, just claw-scrapes that can't seem to penetrate past a scratch, wrenching blows that fail to throw the target properly. The damage to the infrastructure done by Andy doesn't help them at all -- there is no path where they expect there to be a path, and it is a hindrance!
Without the translation droid here, their speech is unknown, but it sounds as though it's taken a turn towards fatalistic. Their leader is gone. There is no hope here, only a fight to the end.
Malik, meanwhile, is tripping out with a pause, in the midst of the chaos. "There's something here we need. Something else, besides their deaths..."
Andro Tain spent some time running with gangsters. She's seen some morally horrendous things, has killed people that likely didn't deserve it, and has stolen from people who definitely didn't... This slaughter still manages to feel fresh and hard. But... It's exciting, all the same. She is witnessing true power.
Andy smiles.
Leaving the carnage to the butchers, the Mirialan slips among the bodies, looking for the burnt corpse of the leader. Finding her, she begins to rifle through what was on her, pawing through the Wookiee's satchel. She doesn't come up empty handed. "Something like this?" She holds up a datapad, thumbing through the information with a low whistle. "I think it may be something like this." She stands, bringing the satchel and datapad to Malik. "You're going to want to take a look."
The slim Kuati looks at Imani as she stands up. "Doctor wants you not to fight. See, battle is over-" Tarq pauses and looks over his shoulder. He stretches out his hand, and an empty bomb casing rises from the worktable. He closes his fist, and it slams into one of the late arrivals hard enough that the Wookiee stumbles.
Then he looks back to Imani. "Battle is /almost/ over," he soothes. He looks at Tamsin, shrugging at her words. "We leave when Ren says." The Wookiees aren't the only ones fatalistic. His eyes are wide at just how bloody a swath the others are cutting through their enemies - well, their victims. It's just that lopsided.
Bonk. Just as Erisi blossomed a bright smile for Sebek and his compliments after shearing the head off the Leader in front of her so wantonly, she finds her head snapping to the left, a first swipe having missed her just barely, having left a whispering of wind to carouse against her ear, the second swipe finding its target though in her current state of delirious rage and adoration at her own handiwork she is injured exactly none. Stunned a little, more of an emotional state than anything, nose wrinkling as her lip curls up, hazel-red eyes darkening.
"You just /ruined/ the moment, you big hairy //jerk//." The Wookiee is so close that Eri doesn't have to focus as hard, indeed, with a snarl she sets the one dumb enough to interrupt her comraderie with Sebek on fire much the same as she did it's leader, choosing to go from the shoulders to really hammer in how displeased she is.
She doesn't even get to see Andy FIND what they didn't even know they were looking for. So many interruptions. So many annoyances ..soon to be all dead.
"Like the bomb?" Errod questions in a breathy rasp, breathing heavily from the exertion of walking through the jungle for hours, climbing things, falling out of things, then falling out of them a second time, and now the stress of slaughtering a small community. He catches Andy's green figure rooting around in the corner of his eye, but there's no time to pay attention to what she's doing. The Wookiees are coming, and one of them is on fire.
Springing to the left, he lets a clawed mit hurtle overhead, his long, frizzy ponytail slapped rather than his face. The spike darts forward, gouging the Wookiee deftly across the throat and ripping away much of the important apparatus of breathing found there.
The last remaining terrorist comes charging on like a scene from a decicred dreadful, a great flaming shambling haystack of muscle and murder. Wild eyes widen behind their slits in the plain durasteel mask, the light dancing reflected back as the furry arms pull him into a piping hot embrace. The speartip end of the chainwhip moves just barely enough to put a thumbtack on the chair of Errod's chest, poking the fiery figure at an awkward angle as the two go down in a heap together. It comes out the other side, a wriggling obelisk rising from a funeral pyre, and the smoking black-clad man crawls out from beneath, slapping at the sputtering flames that cling to him.
Ripping the helmet off, he breathes in deep, nostrils and eyes both flared wide, casting about at the others as his shoulders heave. "...we taking that bomb?!" Point.
"Stay there." The tone of her voice, regardless of what Imani //actually did// made it clear it was not intended to be a request, as Tamsin reached into her pack, pulling out the small googly eyed translation droid she never went anywhere without. Chopping people apart when you couldn't understand the screaming didn't serve any purpose. She glanced around the field of corpses, looking at them as if she had not even noticed the savagery that had been occurring when her back gad been turned, a hard frown darkening her expression. Was there even anyone left alive to question? Any wounded that needed tending? Her turned as she caught Tarq's comment, "Do we?" There was an edge to her voice. The sort of edge that might, just might have been a bit too impertinent. She did not, however, leave her patient.
"I fight until it's over, or I cannot fight," Imani insists to Tarq when he reminds her of the doctor's wishes. "I will rest when we're done." Thankfully before she can jump back into into the battle it concludes, and the chain-whip that she'd only just lifted again lowers. It's not sheathed, she keeps the weapon out just in case there's another ambush awaiting. The doctor may not leave her, but she steps away, slowly, carefully, and not without difficulty, but she's no stranger to pain, or having to move through it.
Being smek'd by a Wookiee blade on the flat left Sebek wanting his extreme melee revenge, except that He Who Cares promply did what he does best and cared. He cared all over the Wookiees. And that was why He Who Cares was above He Who Learns on the 'Who Pisses Off Sebek The Least' ladder. There was an angry whine as the blade of Tei Tenga returned from whence it came, and the deep green of the Falleen turned towards the questioning of the direction he heard. "Yes, we do," his voice oozed in that melodiously thick accent of his. "He Who Leads is thus." He Who Leads had to be the Ren. "In obedience, rewards. In obstinance, these prey beasts fared better than you will."
Content to let the ferocity of the Knights mop up the rest of the Wookiee reinforcements, Malik refocuses his attention on the prize Andy has brought him! It's hard to read his expression or where he's looking behind that black and silver mask, but he does focus on the datapad for several moments, thoughtful. "I imagine this is exactly what we're looking for," the Ren praises Andy, reading a moment longer.
"Hoth? Smugglers, funneling aid and resistance to Kashyyyk, from all the way out there? And to Kalarba as well..."
A pause, "Interesting."
A longer pause, then he tucks the datapad back into his satchel, and slings the bag over a shoulder. "I suppose they think they're hidden, as well. We will abuse them of the notion. Take the bomb or leave it, take whatever you like or leave it, it makes no difference to me."
Not far from the new growth area is an old battlefield, clear enough of trees that they won't have to hike out -- they can call in the Night Buzzard there for an extraction, and save Imani the hike. Also, less likelihood Tarq will get attacked by venomous birds again this way.
Careless about what might be happening to the bodies of the Wookiees, Malik Ren turns to walk away, next objective now clearly at hand.
"Burn this place to the ground," he instructs the group. "And let the fire be a beacon of warning against all those who aided them." He is not looking back, steps set with determination.
"Find a parka, we're going to Hoth."
