Log:Knights of Ren: The Edge of Unknown II

The Edge of Unknown II

OOC Date: November 30, 2020
Location: Night Buzzard, Unknown Regions
Participants: Malik Ren (GM and popsicle), Andro Tain, Erisi Auslese, Errod Zand, Imani, Sebek, Syrus, Tamsin Cas, Tarq Najjic, Knights of Ren

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..

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Somewhere in the Uncharted Regions, the Knights of Ren are slowly returning to consciousness, locked in their own rooms that once served as the Night Buzzard's prison cells.

RECORD SCRATCH. You're probably wondering how we ended up in this situation.

---

The object removed from Kohlma turned out to be a Sith Wayfinder, a strange, archaic device indicating a path to travel through space to reach... something. An artifact? Secrets? The shreds of information hint at a powerful relic of some sort. /Sith nonsense/, and thus, something which must be investigated, and if necessary, destroyed.

Getting to the Uncharted Regions was the first hurdle, a long drag through known space. Travel has been, as always, tedious when shared in close quarters among a crew of people whose ability to get along with each other is really only so-so. Beyond known space, the Night Buzzard's astrogation was largely in the hands of a dutiful, pleasant navigation expert from Spearhead, Lieutenant Vail.

Everything seemed to be going well until the Buzzard entered a strange, powerful Nebula that interfered with their sensor readouts. While astrogation was still moving along properly, they didn't spot the enemy ship until it was far, far too late. Seized by ion pulses and salvage arms extending from the enemy vessel, the Buzzard was held helpless and captive. A strange toxin began to fill the ship's atmosphere, and even helmets and armor failed to halt its soporific effect...

---

Now consciousness is returning again, but the Knights are in a bind, literally and figuratively. They are bound at the wrist and have been divested of their weapons, and durasteel bars block them from the rest of the ship. The ship itself is prowling with insectlike aliens, similar to Verpine, but perhaps a subspecies or related species endemic to the Unknown Regions. They are clicking and ticking to each other in an unintelligible bug language as they prowl the ship. The body of Lieutenant Vail is laid out on Tamsin's medical station across the way. As Vail is missing her head, she probably won't be getting better.

Errod Zand is dreaming.

His face twitches, eyes rolling this way and that behind closed lids, and then slowly creak open, rimmed in red and bleary. Crust clings at the corners. He moves to wipe drool from the corner of his mouth and nearly knocks out a tooth with the binders on his wrists. "Hm." Pressing his face against the bars, he peers into the belly of the Buzzard, scanning the room. "Krif," he mutters under his breath, fingers wrapping around those bars and giving an experimental tug. Nothing.

Pat, pat, pat, none of his hidden weapons are still hidden. "/Krif./"

Blinking awake, Syrus frowns; finding himself unconcious on the floor of his 'bedroom', the insects likely not interested in the task of heaving the big man up onto his cot. Straining against his restraints, the Kiffar rolls himself over and sits up, looking out through the bars and concentrating, trying to angle the Force towards the manacles. No such luck. TOO SLEEPY.

"Mfh.. no- nonono. Nod... not. No." Tarq's face is pressed uncomfortably against the bars, muttering in his semiconscious state. "Warned... never. No." His nostrils flare. "Kill... you. Mfff. Not... not again!" At the last two words, he startles towards upright, but he overbalances the other direction, knocking his head against the other 'wall' of durasteel bars. He tries to rub the back of his head, but his hands are bound together and this bumps his other hand and the manacle against his face. There are red lines on his face in the shape of the bars. Then he watches the insectoids outside, looking around to see who else is awake, before turning his attention to his manacles. He has been cuffed before. They have parts inside that move to undo the restraint, which a key or a servo often presses. He just needs to find the right part, and move it the right way, without seeing it.

He's still staring at his manacles for a few minutes before being willing to admit that he isn't actually going to be able to do this subtly.

Tamsin's first thought, upon awakening was not 'what happened', 'who are these aliens,' or 'why is that poor, hapless lieutenant missing her head'. No, as she turned her head, blinking that forced sleep out of her eyes, her gaze settling on the chains no far from where they had been caged was obvious. 'How did I end up being next in line for Sebek's dinner?' Oh, no, wait...she shook her head. That wasn't right. She was not the //only// one in the cage. Surely the Falleen was not going to eat them all. But why take chances? Tamsin, who looked down to see if she still bad her bag with her, soon after focused her attention on the bindings at her wrist, focusing her will as she had done on Hoth, when she had bent the metal as she had willed it. When the metal snapped, her hands curled, holding the pieces from falling from her wrists.

Consciousness returns to Andro Tain in slow, bleary flashes. A foul taste, a fouler odor, a distant, blinding pain coupled with a wet cough. It's not great. She had felt so /good/ about this, prior to the moment everything went sideways - she had had a task. Now she just had a bind.

"I did not consent to this..." The Mirilan mumbles, her face pressed against something cold and hard as she struggles to get her eyes open. When she does, and when the situation finally sets in, she swears loudly and begins to wrench herself back and forth. "I've done this before." She whispers to the Rens near her, breathing deep. "I just... Have to... Dis.../Locate/ the joint.... Right..." It isn't working. She's trying /so hard/ to dislocate her shoulders and wiggle free, but it isn't working. Not at all.

A start! Behold the gloom of toxicity, how it is insidious and vexing. One cannot defeat toxins in glorious battle. And it was for this reason that when Sebek of the Desert, Flagbearer of Coret, Conqueror of the Sixteenth Deck, Consumer of Hounds, Wielder of Tei Tenga, He Who Hunts awoke, he was in a mood most foul.

"For eons the shehai of the sands have bested beasts and prey of fine renown. And yet once again the warrior of the desert falls to TOXIN," the word rang out, loudly, for all in the accursed vessel to hear, from the Falleen lying face-down on the ground, "a dishonourable weapon! Filth! Vermin!" Rage was building and bubbling under the skin of Sebek, shifting from green to yellow to a warm orange, as he pushed himself backwards into a kneeling position and focused.

FWCRUNCH.

Manacles around the wrists of the desert warrior split and broke, coming to pieces and falling to the ground. His expression twisted into perhaps his most mirthless smile, full of teeth, and as he raised his unencumbered hands the sharp black talons glinted in the dim lights. "You bind us for naught, interlopers! I shall devour you wholesale! Make forth your funerary preparations and pray to your false gods that you have concluded by the time I arrive!"

Erisi was having the most wonderful dream, though consciousness creeps up on the woman ever so slowly, a sensation of being hungover lingering in the back of her throat. Slowly, drearily, her head lifts just in time to hear Sebek, which alerts her to the fact that she's in a situation that is not sexy at all. A bracing sigh, eyes blinking open to glance first at the floor beneath her drool laden cheek, hazel-red eyes glinting over then to Sebek as she begins to wrangle her bindings with the force, just barely managing, by pure luck, to work a mechanism loose that helps them to fall off from one wrist.

"This is ..easily the worst place to be when you're frothing like that, Sebek ..bloody appetizers." Turning onto her back both hands, left one complete with cuffs, raise to rub at her puffy face, Eri not at all a beautiful nightingale when she wakes. Her voice is throaty, poison not at all fun to be under the influence of, nor to rouse from, head flinching from the abrasive cuff that knocks in against her chin as she tries to liven her flesh.

Imani is a cheerful space companion on this trip, as she so often is, keeping company with Lieutenant Vail a fair bit, loitering near others with her relentless cheer. Some might be relieved to find the ray of sunshine unconscious as they start to come to. It takes some time for her to start coming around, but when she does it's abrupt. Probably thanks to Sebek. She sits up suddenly looking alarmed, disarmed, it's all very upsetting. Wide-eyes swing around to Sebek as he rails against their captors, offering a soft 'shhhhh' in response as though that might help. "That's-- just-- Sebek stop warning people you're going to eat them and just eat them. Don't monologue, haven't you seen holofilms?" As she asks this, she manages to break the bindings enough to free her hands.

The Knights' insect captors don't actually seem to notice the initial stirrings of their captives, but then Sebek of the Desert, Flagbearer of Coret, Conqueror of the Sixteenth Deck, Consumer of Hounds, Wielder of Tei Tenga, He Who Hunts, Sinks and Hollers at Top Volume, does his thing. Three not-Verpine appear, swiveling their heads with huge multifaceted eyes toward the cells, and then immediately depart again, clicking and tapping and buzzing in a panic!

A moment later, the vents fill with gas again, hissing and smelling horrible, and everything goes dark.

An unknown amount of time passes, and everyone begins to wake again.

No new bindings have been placed. The only difference is that they've lost time and the element of surprise -- if ever they had it. Lt Vail's body is unmoved, and Malik Ren is nowhere to be found.

ROOM-CELL 1: Errod, Syrus, Tarq, Tamsin ROOM-CELL 2: Andy, Sebek, Erisi, Imani

Another dream.

Errod wakes again, shambling over to the bars after rising up and smashing his hands forward to crack his binders, prising them off and throwing them down on the floor with a growl. He looks around the room again, noting this time that he's not alone; Tam, Tarq, and Syrus are in there with him. "I don't see any good reason to stay in here," the hunter remarks to the others, finally wiping that drool away. "You wouldn't happen to be able to pull these bars open with your uh, evolutionary mutation or whatever it is that went wrong when you were born?"

"Damn that loudmouthed fool," Syrus says after returning to conciousness yet again. Sitting up once more, the Kiffar moves to slowly wobble his way to his feet, looking around at the three others in the cell with him; a quick glance to make sure that they're not missing any important parts. A real concern when you've been captured by gross bugz.

He straightens up and breathes deep, calling again on one of his weaker powers (he has strong ones?). After an overlong time of concentration, Syrus' restraints snap off of his wrists in a non dramatic fashion, clattering to the cell floor.

"There aren't many still aboard the Buzzard," Syrus explains, rubbing at his wrist and trying to devise a plan. "But there are.../many/ elsewhere," he adds.

Second verse, same as the first. The corner of Tarq Najjic's mouth twitches, then he sniffles. In rubbing his nose, he wakes himself up with manacles-to-the-face. He was irritated about something. He leans forward and sniffs the bars. Maybe it was being imprisoned? That's definitely a pisser. "Tarq Najjic feels this is somehow the fault of He Who Hunts." At Syrus's words, the past floods in. "Because it /is/ his fault." As his temper flares, his bindings separate from both wrists and drop to the floor. "Subtlety is wasted upon him." He rubs his hands. "One moment. Must stretch." And he does just thought, working the kinks out of his hands and arms.

"I imagine people would say a very many things went wrong when I was born," was Tamsin's slightly foggy reply, as she came back to herself. Again. It took her a moment to uncrumple herself from the floor and to come to her feet with a bit of help from a hand wall. Once again, she checked herself. And this time she did not need to worry about pretending the manacles were still connected. She took a moment, counting off the people who were locked in the cell with her, "And perhaps we should try not to simply kill them all wholesale and possibly try to figure out why we are here and what their intentions are." A beat, "If I can locate my bag, I have a translator droid there, we may be able to use it to find out what the purpose of this all is." And then she herself moved up to he bars, trying to see if she could spy her bag somewhere, out there.

"Sebek, shut -" and that's about as far as Andro Tain gets into that sentence. She awakes, again, with one cheek pressed into the ground; but, this time, fueled by annoyance and a desire to no longer be locked in a cell with Sebek, sits up and gives a /grunt/. With a sickening CRRPNNKPOP she dislocates her own shoulders and is able to wiggle free of the bindings.

She's in a lot of pain.

"Ugh... W-wheeeeere is Tamsin?" The other cell? Great. Struggling to her feet, the pain almost blinding, Andy sucks in a breath, and releases another.

A start! Behold the gloom of toxicity, how it is insidious and vexing. One cannot defeat toxins in glorious battle. And it was for this reason that when Sebek of the Desert, Flagbearer of Coret, Conqueror of the Sixteenth Deck, Consumer of Hounds, Wielder of Tei Tenga, He Who Hunts awoke again, he was in a mood most foul.

"For eons the shehai of the sands have bested beasts and prey of fine renown. And yet for the SECOND TIME the warrior of the desert falls to TOXIN," the word rang out, loudly, again, for all in the accursed vessel to hear, from the Falleen lying face-down on the ground, "a dishonourable weapon! Filth! Vermin!"

I'm sure we've been here before.

Rage was building and bubbling under the skin of Sebek, shifting from yellow to orange to a deep red, as he pushed himself backwards into a kneeling position and focused.

fwump.

The backlash of the amount of effort involved to shove the door ever so mildly gave the Falleen a nasty migraine, spotting appearing in his eyes and another dot appearing on his brain. "Curse these foul doors! Effective and yet a NETTLING impediment!"

"What in the ho---

Ah yes, they were here again. With her hands planted on her face and pins and needles worming their way in through her organic arm she is once again awake. Who? Erisi. It takes a moment for her to realize once more who she is and why she is, though it's infinitely clear that this is all Sebeks' fault, a fact that no doubt the entire captured group knows by now.

"I ...you ...are not worth eating ...Sebek ...you ..jerk. Full. Of. Fat." Last enunciated as she pushes herself up slowly to a seated position, slow scooting done towards the bars. Cybernetic hand lifts and she attempts to set the bars into melting, but not a damn thing happens. Just an idiot on her arse wiggling fingers at the bar like she's coyly trying to seduce them into opening. A cough here, sniffling snucking back of congested sinuses there and she drops the hand slowly to her lap, leaning back on her organic hand to catch her breath, "This ..this is what hell is, if there is such a construct, with Sebek on bloody REPEAT -- holy bloody hells, did you just ..wow. That is ..you know, you coulda just ..asked ..I mean .." Her eyebrows lift as she eyes Andro, bottom lip puckering out a little, "I mean ..I get it, we're stuck in here with -that-, but ..yuck."

Puckering mouth fans out into a grimace as yet another horrendous sound comes, this time from Sebek and the resounding whack of his head, "Okay, that actually made me feel a little bit better .." Admitted, thumb and forefinger of her cybernetic hand pinching together to indicate her increased wellness, woman slowly shifting to rise up.

There's another gentle shushing from Imani aimed at Sebek as he continues, because the effort worked so well before. It continues to not work, even as she tries to place a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, maybe we could just..." Oh no there's more gas, and before she can finish her thought she breaks off to gulp in fresh air. Maybe she can just hold her breath through this. Maybe.

...Maybe.

Holding.

Thudp.

She can't. Once again Imani finds herself waking up some time later, squinting up at the ceiling as consciousness returns. Her head is murky, and it hurts a bit from where it thunked agianst the floor, but as the clouds begin to part and clarity starts to return to her mind, she says, "Hey. Someone--" She points at Sebek as she says this because he's bit. "Help me up there." Up there being up to a vent in the ceiling where that awful knockout gas is coming from. "I think I can squeeze through there." Maybe. She's been unrealistically optimistic about things before, but being wrong isn't going to stop her.

The ship remains as it was: No one in evidence, but Syrus's life detection suggests many, many more of these things 'somewhere' nearby, probably in their own ship, and perhaps a couple a ways aft of here on the Buzzard. Attempts to break free thus far have not been successful, but no one is still bound, and there hasn't been a second round of toxic gas rendering them helpless again. Even though Sebek is still making noise.

"I don't know what they are, but they look like Verpine," Errod observes, rubbing his wrists, scrubbing away the little wells of blood from the scraping binders. He looks the bars holding them in up and down, nodding absently. "This is good work. Shame to damage something we might need later, when one of you finally snaps from the strain of unnatural urges and abilities bending your fragile psyche." He looks up at the ceiling, towards the vent. "That could work." He steps over under it, and cups his hands.

"Your psyche is far beyond repair and we haven't needed a cell for you yet, Zand," Syrus says, stepping forward and grabbing at a pair of the bars. This was much easier when the Knights had him in custody on Spearhead. Back in the days when he could just phase through the energy field like it was nothing and stab Sebek to death. Ah, memories.

The Kiffar calls on the Force to aid him, but the Force screens his call, the bars maybe moving one single iota, but nothing more.

Tarq was still flexing his arms like he was thinking of trying to use this unseen power he has to try to rip open the preposterously heavy bars, but when their resident doom prophet presents another option, he looks up at the vent, and nods. "Yes, thank you, Errod." And with the boost provided by the other Knight, Tarq latches his hands onto the vent, twists himself, pulls himself partway up, kicks wildly to get some momentum, then slowly the rest of him disappears into the vent. Waist. Thighs. Knees. Feet. It looks graceless, but he made it, okay? He peeks down at those below, gives a thumbs-up, and then disappears. "Let me find exit."

"Or from the pain of having to listen to unsolicited and unwelcome doomsaying," spoke the good doctor. Tamsin, who was still pressed up against the bars, stared intently at the medical area across the way, one of the work tables shifting a bit, and ending up bumping into the bed where poor Headless Vail was laid out. Oh no, surely not the return of the zombie parasites. Oh, no, just a sterile tool tray, which lifted itself from its table and began to float it's way over to where Tamsin was waiting. She frowned, not looking back, lest she drop the tray before it reached her, "If we can see the controls, we can manipulate them." She could hear Tarq scrambling around, but it did not do to put all of your eggs in one basket.

Andy's grimace is turned upon Erisi. "I don't exactly have -" She waves her limp, useless upper body as if making the 'spooky magic fingers' without using her actual hands. This is likely the closest she's ever come to using the Force. "If anyone wants to just yank these back into place..." She offers towards her cell-mates, even as she takes a slow, pained lap around the room, watching them stack up on each other to have a try at the vent. She would help, but... Arms.

"Crawl with your legs, not your back!" She offers in an encouraging whisper.

The door didn't budge and the headache faded as Sebek of the Desert relaxed enough to breathe. The colour of his skin faded back to something yellowish, calm, but still beyond annoyed. Only the querying of a comrade turned him from his VEXED IMPEDIMENT. Very well! He turned and lifted his ally into the above vent with a cry of, "Arise, She Who Slaughters, and lay waste upon the vent beasts!"

Then, satisfied that Imani was somewhere in the vent and didn't need his help anymore, he turned and directed his IRE back towards the door. It rumbled. Slighty. "Fetid orifice!" he declared in his anger, not clever enough to realize he could probably just trip the lock with directed TK instead of trying to blow the door off its hinges. "Give way to your superior!"

"Oh dang, I didn't even see that there." So says Erisi to Imani, who really is all about just melting face and not much more. Gone were the days of using her brain hole for things more than wanton destruction of property and person, "Oh, uhhhh ...honestly, that sounds super gross, can't you just butt your shoulder into the wall or somethin'?" Erisi asks of Andy as she steps in closer to the bars, both hands lifting up as she turns visual attention to the bars to focus in on the metal to begin melting it, "You know, like Sebek did with his head and the door? Bet it'd work ..." Slowly the bars begin to heat up to a simmering angry red-orange, slowly ..slowly ..not as satisfying as a people.

She Who Slaughters arises just as Sebek asks, raising her arms above her head as she's given a lift up to the vents overhead. Imani's fingers scrape against the edges until she manages to pull the thing open, then grips the edges in an effort to help pull herself up into the vent. There is a good amount of struggling on her part, her legs kick a few times and she issues more than one unladylike grunt as she heaves herself up into the space above the ceiling. By the time she's there her face is red from the exertion but she made it. Sore fingers are flexed a few times as she whispers, "Thanks!" over her shoulder. Then adds, "Sorry if I kicked you," for good measure, because it's entirely possible that she kicked one or more people in the effort. With appreciation and apology given, she sets for trying to move through the vents and find a way to freedom.

Two Knights have breached containment, one from each cell! Tarq and Imani wriggle their way up and out with boosts from their friends, and while the bars resist the physical and mental strength(?) of Syrus and Sebek, they begin to yield under Erisi's red hot attentions. The metal begins to glow, such that with a bit more success and something to wedge them apart, a gap can be made!

Tarq and Imani find that their paths meet, and there's really only one way to go. Aft, but when they do, they can peer downwards and spot three of the !Verpine. They seem to be in conversation with each other, hushed, and perhaps worried if their body language can be read similarly to other humans.

"You don't want to hear the truth, and I respect that," Errod rasps at Tamsin, boosting Tarq up with his wiry fingers and shoving his arms over his head like a despairleader to get the Kuati up into the vents where everyone can smell him. He takes one look at the tray, sees where she's going with it, and shakes his head. "That's never going to work, but I'm not in a hurry to climb up there after him. You don't want to be stuck behind somebody in a ventilation shaft if things go awry."

Still, what else is there to do? "When you're finished with that tray, I've got an idea. Shiv. At least we can stab something, then, even if it's just each other."

Tamsin's tray doesn't make it to her, because Syrus snatches it out of the air and holds it out of the bars, angling it so that she can get a better look at where the controls are. "Do hurry this along, Tamsin. There's no telling what they're doing to Malik right now. If he's even still alive."

When he sees Imani in the vent, Tarq gives a beaming smile then puts a finger over his lips. He points his thumb at himself and further down the corridor, then points at Imani and then down at the three below. "Wait for me, hit from two sides at once?" he suggests before crawling onward. The last stop on this ventilation tour appears to be... the forge room. He drops down into the room, examining the tools and the forge itself, but finding no weapons as such. He picks up something used to hold hot metals, then peeks out the door to see if it's a good moment to engage. Unless Imani has just, you know, thrown herself at them. She slaughters! One never knows!

"Unless you become one of us, and can fully know and understand our experiences, you cannot know the truth, Errod Zand. Until that time, you are nothing more than an outside observer." Her tone had not changed, still as calm and controlled as ever, though she glanced momentarily to Syrus as he reached out to take the tray from her. There was a release of a pressure she could feel but never articulate, as she no longer had to hold it. "If Malik is dead, then they will all know retribution." For just a moment, in the fleeting sharpness in her voice, Tamsin recalled that dark version of herself that she had been when the crown had sat on her head. But that was for the future. A promise and a threat. For now, Tamsin looked away, entirely focused on the controls she could see reflected in the tray. If there was ever a time when she needed all of her will it was now. She thought, she focused, she pushed, with that thing that was her will and all will, in those moments when she could control it, and the controls activated, the bars on the cell releasing their locks.

There was a horrible, twisting, and godawful popping sound as the bars that impeded the progress of the glorious warriors gave way to the power of hate, rage, and pride. Bars bent, melted, and gave way for the occupants within. "Victory," hissed the permanently vexed Falleen.

This of course meant that he ignored the sound of the doors unlocking. Would have been great if you'd waited for that, Sebek.

Well, only Tamsins' door was unlocked by their efforts, so still a victory, Sebek! "You know, maybe you're not /all/ fat, Sebek ..." Erisi muses, still not moving to help poor Andy pop that arm back in, focusing instead on heating those bars to aid Sebek as he mind-mangled the bars enough that they can all step through now, a glance given back up over her shoulder towards the vent where Imani disappeared into, "I guess we're all out ...Come on, Sebek, lets roast and ravish some bugs." Until they get gassed, again. Out through the bars she goes with a careful dip down to avoid the superheated bent metal, taking a look around as she does so.

Imani spots Tarq in the dark confines of the vent system, smiling at him brightly in return. He points down and her gaze follows, then he moves on and she waits. She waits in the vents, slowly turning into a vent person. She is Queen of the Vents, observing the unsuspecting from her perch high above the not-verpine, waiting.

Sweet freedom! Both cells are now open: Tamsin's manipulation of the controls, with help, springs open the bars on her cell, while Erisi's cell is literally bent to the will of its in habitants. Knights on the loose!

A quick search for their weapons finds a stash of everyone's belongings not far from the room-cells, to the fore of the ship -- just out of sight, beyond where they could have spotted them to call them to hand, heaped in an untidy pile! The insect-people might not really know what lightsabers are, or they might not have been so cavalier with them.

The three !Verpine aft toward the cockpit know when they're outmatched! Quailing in fear, they raise all four 'hands' that each of them has, in a gesture of unarmed surrender. They are still clicking and buzzing their strange speech, unintelligible, although the medical area is equipped with a small translation droid that might be useful should someone retrieve and activate it.

When the door grinds open, Errod's eyebrows go with it. "I'll admit freely I was wrong on that," he admits freely, and he steals out of their chamber. The subsequent moments are spent conducting a brief expanded reconnaissance now that the area is open to exploration. A peek around a corner reveals their weapons, in a heap, and he hurries over, tucking this and that away, a knife, a different knife, a weird looking folding thing, a bigger thing, a grenade, another knife, a sharp, irregularly shaped object of unclear purpose, and finally his chain-whip. By the time he straightens up, an alarming percentage of the pile has vanished onto or is hanging visible on his attire, except the whip which stays in his hand.

Thus armed, he reverts course, heading back aft towards the cockpit and the ship's systems, or at least the highest concentration of them. Rounding the corner, he sights the three nervous-looking bug beings. The hunter stands there regarding them coolly, giving the weapon in his hand an idle spin. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of my way. We're taking back the Buzzard. And then I'm going to pull one of your heads off so we can see what you look like on the inside. And once it's documented thoroughly, I expect the body will be eaten. Hard to say, I don't know how he feels about insectoid. IF you don't know what's good for you, try me. It won't get better. I'll- just, it'll be worse. Instead of better. Or the same. Worse than what I just described. In a bad way." Is any of this getting through?

Shrugging, he strides towards them.

Errod Zand draws his Bilari Electro-chain Whip - 12306.

"They will know retribution regardless," Syrus says, stepping through the gate. They find the lightsabers and he snaps his across the room to his hand, the crimson blade leaping forward shortly thereafter. Syrus, 'seeing' the location of those dirty bugz begins marching straight towards them. He was going to say some words at them, but then Errod is saying words at them, so the Kiffar refrains.

Out from a door at the back of the ship comes a slim man holding tongs like he means to use them but doesn't know how. Is Tarq not a grilling man, or do Kuati not have a tradition of grilling insects? "Imani-" He looks. Everyone is free. How did that happen? "Ambush plan no longer required." He goes back to deposit the tongs in the forge room and then goes to collect his gear, refilling his pockets, attaching his stunsaber to his belt, and double-checking that the emergency-spice has not been stolen. Then he goes to investigate whether the ramp of the ship is down. Are we one bug-screech away from being busted?

There was no 'I told you so' from the good doctor, as between herself and Syrus, they gained their freedom. In truth, she had not known it would work. But she had been highly motivated. She was also moving towards the door, "Don't kill them. We need to know what they know. Where we are, where Malik is, what they did with the map." Not that anyone was bound to listen to her. Tamsin, eschewing her weapon for now, made for the medical area and her bag, from which she withdrew the translator droid, activating it, it's little buggy eyes glowing as it came online. She did not pause to search for the Ren herself, she simply made a beeline for the trio of insects. "Where is the other human, the other one who was with us?" That was the first and most important question.

As the droid is brought forth and switched on, it chirps in its posh little voice. "Oh, my, what an interesting dialect! While this sounds very similar to the spoken tongues of Shantipole at first analysis, it actually seems to diverge much further back, hinting at a linguistic if not biological diaspora at least several -- oh, pardon me, my programming gets carried away!"

It begins to translate before someone smashes it, and the !Verpine find their speech formatted into basic:

"Dark masters! Noble masters! Forgive us, we are lowly scavengers, your most humble servants! We did not know who you were, dark masters, or we would not have trespassed here!" Is that true? Through a translator, difficult to say. "Let us go, and we will return your ship to you, and we will no longer search this sector for the Crystal! Noble Masters! Not in the faces!"

When Tamsin asks for the missing human, two of the insects look at each other, then back to her, and one tries out, "Sleeping?" Hurriedly he adds, "Fine, fine, that one is fine, we will give it back!"

Tei Tenga fwipped out of the pile and into the hands of a now jubiliant Sebek of the Desert. "Behold, my arm completed." The weapon burst angrily into life, hungry for blood and furious at its mistreatment. With nary an additional word (because he always had to have at least four words at any point in time) he turned and stalked out into where the rest of the Knights were gathering, with the three insectoid beasts.

With Tei Tenga already breathing and screaming, Sebek thought he was the scariest person in the ship at the minute. "Divulge unto us the nature of this crystal, and speak quickly else your meat be consumed and your shells flensed!"

Erisi went and got her weapon back, the poor lightsaber left all alone without it's counterpart, the cry of it likely in Eri's mind, but enough to make it easy for her to find it. You just know where your heart is.

Lifting it lovingly up she'll activate it to send it hissing and humming to life, "I don't dance with you nearly enough ..." Murmured, a moment taken with the lightsaber before she's turning to join the others, only catching the tail end of the conversation, which entails Sebek being his loud self, "Oh, they're still standing ..." Said with some disappointment, "I guess this means you're all questioning them ..okay .." Stepping away and down from the cockpit she'll stand guard, letting the others do the talkin'.

Though Imani was told the whole ambush was called off, she doesn't emerge from her perch above. Instead she continues to survey the events that unfold below her. It's only the with the mention of Malik and the crystals that she thumps one fist hard enough against the grate to pop it open, allowing her to slide out far enough to be seen from above. "Sleeping where? Exactly. Draw me a map if you have to," she demands, possibly appearing a little unsettling to their space invader. "And what kind of crystals are you here looking for?" she adds. Does it matter? She has no idea, but it's information, and it probably doesn't hurt to acquire as much of that as possible.

The intimidation... honestly, Sebek has done better work here, but it's enough to rattle the poor Not-Verpines. "Noble Masters! Noble masters! Not in the faces!" they quail. Big talk from people who took Vail's HEAD OFF, somehow, but now the tables have turned on them, and they don't wanna get stabbed in the faces.

"The Crystal is a legend, a history, a story... long faded into time, but would be the finest scavenging prize of all time! of ALL time!" they explain. "A crystal of dark and terrible power, created by Noble Masters such as yourselves, once upon a time, and hidden away in a great and terrible temple. An awful and beautiful Crystal, hidden away by jealous Masters who wanted to keep it from each other, who wanted to worship it in secret, in their fine and secret palace."

They chirp something the droid does not translate, then one says, "It is somewhere in this sector, but it can only be found by those who already know where it is." The other two chirp in agreement, "It is so, it is so," and the first continues, "We sought for it, the greatest prize, to bring our Hive fame and glory and great wealth. We did not know the dark masters still seek it! We did not know! We will give you back your Queen!" Poor Malik. But I mean, they did identify the leader, and anyway, is that wrong?

"And the map," one !Verpine agrees desperately, and the other two just STARE AT HIM.

The wayfinder is indeed missing from its place in the cockpit.

"And the map," the other two chirp like they meant that all along.

Errod listens as the creatures chitter away, and the droid translates in its polite, annoying tone. "I would dearly like to meet whoever programs these droids," he finally decides, stepping into the cockpit and glancing around for the map, which as noted is indeed missing. "That would do, for a start. Otherwise the dark masters will remove your faces and give them to the flenser as an appetizer for /your/ queen."

Errod glances over at the bugs. "What are you? Are you a hive mind? Seems not but these connections function in strange ways at times. Explain. And show us the way to our little queen. She will be most displeased."

"And the map," Syrus repeats with a nod, zeroing in on the important part of the transaction. His saber deactivates and he hangs it back on his belt. "The prize you seek is not for you. It is for us. That thread was woven long ago, and you're not fit to unravel it," Syrus says, looking the bugs over. "But I'll extend you an offer. Return our queen, return out map, and work with us to retrieve this artifact, and we will grant you your life and a tidy sum of credits." His hands clasp behind his back and he looks to the others. "We need a new navigator," he offers by way of explanation to the rest of them. "And I'd rather they did the digging."

Tarq returns from the way off the ship, which seems secure enough at present, to jab an accusatory finger at the !Verpine. "Why did you kill Lieutenant Vail? And what did you do with her head? Also, ah... temple. I heard the word 'temple.' Expound at great length, or even returning our queen-" He doesn't even crack a smile. "-and our gizmo will not be enough."

Tamsin, who was still unarmed, but let's be honest, she forgot she had a weapon most of the time, am I right? Remained standing, holding the translator droid, "We are all awake. Malik should be as well. And he is not here." If nothing else, they would have heard him, felt him, seem some sign of him. This was not a ship full of secret hiding places. This was a worrying turn of events, even if the truth of that did not make its way into her voice, "And how did you happen upon our ship? How did you know to take the map from us?" She reached down, momentarily clicking off the droid, "Does this ship have a tractor beam?" And then she switched it back on. "What assurance do we have that your hive will do as you claim you are willing to do?"

Like a very good stew, with his lightsaber out, Sebek simmered. He paced back and forth with Tei Tenga growling hungrily, his eyeliner fleeking those bulging amber eyes. "Consider the penalty of disobedience," because everyone else was doing their 'Ah, the /negotiator/' bit, "and amplify a hundredfold and you come no closer to true comprehenson of your fates."

"Oh my Goddess, lop off one of their heads as they did ours to show we're serious, and force the others to do our bidding if they too wish to live." Called from the cooridor as Erisi listens in, "Bring the head as a reminder." A pause, then a way too cheery, "Like a lamp!" Enlighten them with murder heads, "I suggest one of the one's who neglected to mention the map." She had ventured back a few steps to give her two credits, moving back up after doing so to remain on guard, "Or we'll be here for ages!" Murder always pushes the conversation more quickly, right?

All three !Verpine shy away from Errod when he says THREATENING THINGS, though they do answer his question about being a hive mind. Sort of. "Yes," one answers, and then the next two say at in unison, "And no."

Obsequious, they agree with Syrus, all chiming at once, "Oh, not fit, not fit at all, not fit to unravel! The crystal is for the Noble Masters, and we will help you! Us, your obedient servants, we will help you most assuredly!"

All three !Verpine shy away from Tarq next, chittering worriedly. "We do not know the nature of the temple," they explain, while the droid frets, <"Gentlebeings, please excuse some uncertainty as to whether these creatures do mean a temple or a palace, as there are nuances in Basic that do not translate accurately."> The !Verpine continue, "It is a story only, a fine temple-palace for the dark masters, created for their dark purposes, and for the crystal of their great power."

All three exchange looks about Vail, and then one speaks - the 'leader' seems to change at any given moment. "Most apologies, great apologies Noble Masters, only we did not know who you were then, and that one reacted poorly to our Gentle Sleep and became agitated, and we had to defend ourselves. Most apologies and great apologies to the Noble Masters. We will navigate for you in the place of your drone."

A CLANK-HISS sounds toward the small airlock hatch that lets the Buzzard dock with other vessels, and then there's a skittering, chittering noise as though many more insect people have arrived -- and so they have, seven more. Six are bearing a prisoner's cryo-tube in which Malik Ren has been stuffed. He seems intact, and in fact peaceful, but they stole the tube from the Buzzard and stole the man in it, even if they're giving it back now. The seventh bug has the Wayfinder, which he sets down and then backs away from.

Sebek and Erisi are both terrifying to the original three, who back away from each like ping pong balls. "Noooo, not in the faces! Not the flensing!" they worry, and a heavy CLANK CLANK from outside suggests the sound of the scavenger ship's grasping arms letting go of the Night Buzzard.

"Even now we release you," one bug promises earnestly. The other nine chant, "We will not disobey, we will not disobey."

One tilts its head to the side. "We are here to serve you. We will follow you to the crystal. We await your order."

Errod makes no movements to dismember, though he does run an eye over his compatriots, watching to see if one of the others will act on different sentiments. The chain-whip remains steady, active but not skewering, and when Malik is returned he steps beside the tube and pushes at the buttons almost at random, looking for the one that opens the thing. "She's my queen," he announces to the others with a serious wink, glancing down at the map and nodding towards it with a shrug. "I don't want it. One of you hold onto that."

Snatching the Wayfinder away from bug number seven, Syrus shoves his way through the three in the cockpit, and reconnects the artifact to the pilot's terminal. "One of you find out who their best navigator is. They're staying on the Buzzard with us," Syrus notes, pulling the pilot's chair out and taking a seat in it. Seems like he's ready to get this show back on the proverbial road.

"Errod, Tarq Najjic is not a doctor, and so cannot dispense medical advice without committing fraud." Then the Kuati sidles over to Tamsin, putting an arm around her shoulder and doing his best Vanna White 'check out this amazing prize!' gesture up and down at Tamsin. "But she /is/, and maybe the Queen of Coruscant deserves the care of a /professional/, yes?"

As soon as the hatch opened, Tamsin's eyes went that way, though she still held the translator droid. But once she saw the cryo-tube, she clipped the droid to her robes, freeing her hands. Her forward momentum was momentarily arrested by Tarq, who might be able to feel the tension she did not allow into her voice. But with him being so close, she redirected, removing the droid and attempting to pass it on to him. If he did not take it, back on her robes it went. And then she slipped out from under his arm, heading for the tube. In time to see Errod poking buttons he ought not to be poking, "Do you want a slap?" She glanced to the bugs, "Set him down there." She pointed to the medical area. "I will do what I can to wake him. Let us hope they haven't done him irreparable damage."

And Sebek? Well, Tei Tenga did not disengage. Its hunger was palpable, kept only at bay by the sheer patience of the Falleen wielding it. As the insects and Knights scurried to their posts, Sebek did not move. "Behold your jailer," he declared to the gathered insects, simmering with rage and some sort of umame spice. "Though sworn to our service, you are untrusted. Your lives remain thus as you bear use. Bring forth failure, betrayal, fat, they stand forfeit."

You know what's just as menacing as a very intimidating Sebek? Watching the buggy head of one of your comrades heads falling off in the wake of a red blur of energy. Standing behind said comrade is the short marshmallow form of Erisi, sword angled back down to her side as she gives everyone a rather disdainful look.

"Let this be a lesson to what happens when you cross us. You killed one of ours, made our queen upset ... and if you disobey us, think to cross us, I'll do much worse than this." Free hand points to the maybe still standing body of the bug person, head off to the floor, "See ...Flames speak to me and do my bidding, so your death will not be kind as this one's was. I will burn you to ashes and suck the goo out of your sections if you fail us." She doesn't /sound/ menacing, but she's more of a doer than a sayer anyhow, and this demonstration hopefully fixes that in their collective-sorta minds, "Okay? Okay." Cue a smile, banged one looking around, "So, who's kissing the Queen to rouse him from his slumber."

CHOP!! Erisi mercilessly cuts the head off one of the Not-Verpine! The rest of them make a horrible racket, scattering all over the place, proving a disquieting ability to straight up climb the walls. The droid doesn't know how to translate their noise except as, <"Considerable distress! Considerable distress!">

The drone's body falls to the floor, parted lifelessly from its head, and all the rest of them stare at it for a moment. A thrumming noise passes between them, also unidentifiable by the droid, until a new bug speaks and the translator picks it up again.

"The consequences of disobedience," it states solemnly, and the other bugs repeat in unison, "It is so, it is so, it is so."

---

As it happens, the !Verpine's best navigator proves to be any of them, as they all behave somewhat interchangeably. One does stay behind, with much "Noble masters"ing, such that it might get annoying enough to turn off the translation droid. But it does seem motivated to be helpful, while the other insect-aliens skitter away back to their ship and disengage their craft, indicating via comms their intent to follow.

Malik, Queen of the Knights of Ren, appears medically stable, although induced in a deeper sleep than was created by just the original fumes. Sadly, irreparable damage has been done to his brain, causing him to awaken as a supercilious megalomaniac unable to connect with anyone on matters outside a heretic cause to which he sold his soul. Wait, no, he was like that already. He's fine.

Between the Wayfinder and the insect navigator, the Night Buzzard and her crew make it alive and intact to their destination, a blue, perfect jewel of a world orbited by a single moon. Turquoise water splashes against black rocks and white sand, and stunning greenery paints the slopes of steep, misty inland mountains.

Half buried in the dunes and jungle not far from the beach, an ominous temple-like structure built of the same coastal rocks holds its own against wind and surf.

Despite the sun, it feels very cold.

END OF PART 2