A Serpent's Lair

[Percy Fleck]

0500 | KOROS RIDGE MINE | ATALE | MOON OF EMPRESS TETA​

Koros Ridge Mine was a relic.

A decrepit tower of rusting durasteel and weathered gantries, it was a monument to the early days of space exploration. Among the first generation of ventures by the Mining Guild, the mine was little more than a mining tower atop a central shaft, with high density living quarters squeezed around the perimeter.

Sitting on a ridge before a steep gorge, the outpost was nestled atop long dead vein of andris spice that had turned out to be rather shallow in the end. Even in its heyday, Koros Ridge had produced only a reasonable profit and had been abandoned by its owners decades ago as an unsustainable expense.

Out here, in the barren wastes of Atale, the mine had never again recovered its former glory. Shutdown, picked clean by scavengers and used as a holdout by half a dozen transitory groups, it now stood forlorn and forgotten.

Percy Fleck had big plans for it. Though Koros Ridge was little more than a shell right now, it could be a perfect base of operations for a discerning Sith illusionist. Deep in the Republica territory, it was easy to reach and oversee, while the barren surroundings would remove all distractions, leaving him free to practice his particular talents within. Few outsiders stopped by the moon and even fewer stayed to explore. The outpost was the perfect retreat, and the perfect site for his first experiment.

Except for the current tenants.

They had no name, as far as Percy could discover. A band of mercenaries of unknown origin, rumour had it they were gearing up for a hit on a carbonite shipment out of neighbouring Empress Teta. Their criminality, right in the heart of Imperial space, only made it easier for Percy to consider them dead. But it mattered little; he wanted the outpost and they were inside it. They were dead anyway.

He’d become harder of late. He could feel it happening. His dark hair had turned a bleached blonde from the stress of it all and his right hand throbbed in his pocket, his new prosthetic still feeling like an alien attached to his body. Percy planned to keep it out of sight for now; he could barely look at it himself.

He waited patiently under the overhang of rock, only a couple of hundred metres from the mine’s unguarded entrance. It was the small hours and the mercenaries had no reason to expect attack. A perfect time to give them a rude awakening.

The young Sith hefted his datapad, pouring over what scant information he had cleaned while he waited. He had sent his two companions details of the rendezvous and would be relying on them more than they knew. His recent run in with the Mandalorian insurgents had cost him dearly and made his need to master new powers greater than ever. Koros Ridge would the perfect place to imprison the pilgrim Tashira and extract from her exactly that.

They only had to take it.

@Insalius @Korvo

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Uhtred wouldn't have known it beforehand, had he not agreed to the trek of Percy Fleck, but... this was not his first time on the reddened moon. It had been some time ago, a long-time ago, but it had happened. Uhtred had only been a boy back then, when his father's duties as a Jagoya'karir had forced him to take Uhtred on his hunt. Uhtred didn't remember anything about the man his father was hunting―it could have been a woman.for all he knew―but he would never forget the brimming glow of that deep red, reflecting the light of a sun as his father's ship descended down over it. According to Uhtred's father, the other Jagyalilyr-had nicknamed this place Tal Me'suum'ika... the Blood Moon. Uhtred's family on his father's side always did-have a thing for the theatrics, but... well, seeing this place again, it wasn't unwarranted. And at least now, he could put a proper name to the place; Atale.

"You know, now that I can touch the ground as easily as I can see it", Uhtred said, kneeling down as he placed his hand flatly on the dirt as he scooped a bit in his hands, allowing it to fall back down between his fingers. "This place really isn't quite as red-once you are close up, is it?"

Uhtred had arrived, and wasn't far from Percy Fleck when he'd taken the time to 'take in the sights', as it were. If this place was full of outlaws, he wasn't surprised. After all, if a lawman had to actually chase someone here, there was probably a reason why they felt it was a kind of refuge for them. By the looks of it, the region at least appeared to have been a failed site for the Mining Guild, one of several conglomerates that made up the massive megacorporation called the Commerce Guilds. If there was one thing that the monetarily-minded folk could be counted on, it was not leaving a credit behind where a credit could be made. If they abandoned this place, equipment and infrastructure and all, they probably deemed the entire project not worth it.

"Why do these credit-lovers get to leave their trash everywhere again?", Uhtred asked sarcastically. After all, if anyone else left their stuff behind and abandoned, they'd be fined for it. By contrast, it always seemed like the big business types got away with these things.

@Alhon @Insalius

 

[Rowan Harlow]

Twirling his cane, Rowan came to stand next to Percy and Uthred as he looked over the compound they were going to assault. He wore his usual clothing, mainly as he hadn't found a set of armor that allowed him the mobility needed to keep up with his particular brand of fighting. He had his vibrodagger up one sleeve and lightsaber up his other, with blaster at his side and grenades hidden on his person. Besides, he liked looking weak and vulnerable when in combat. It made enemies think he was just as such, which as a tactician was something that he used against them. He smirked, adjusting his hat as he listened to what his companions had to say.

"Your guess is a good as mine, noble Deucalian. It IS quite the eyesore. Perhaps we can get a further reward when done for doing a public service in removing this affront to the senses." Putting a cigar in his mouth, he used Pyrokinesis to generate a flame from his finger to light the thing. Taking a deep drag, Rowan turned his attention to Percy. "Well then, are you ready to go? As our glorious leader, I'll let you take the front and have your back. At least it seems like they have no idea we're even here or what we intend to do. A complacent enemy can be an easy one, though I wouldn't advise letting down one's guard regardless. Well then, shall we?"

@Alhon @Korvo

 

[Percy Fleck]

Uhtred was right of course; the mine was a blot on the landscape by any objective standard. The young Sith was surprised the burly warrior had any sense for aesthetics, not that it mattered. They weren’t here to remove the mine, but its lowlife occupants.

Percy flicked his datapad back on, trawling through the information he’d obtained on what lay ahead. “Word on the street is that we’ve got twenty or so mercs camped out in the lower levels, mostly in the labour quarters around the base of the tower”. He pointed to the rectangular complex beneath the main structure. “Their leader is a fairly sharp Chagrian, goes by the name of Lero. Apparently he and a few right hands might be holed up in the old control room”.

It wasn’t much to go on, but it was enough. They might be outnumbered, but they had talents and skills their enemies lacked. That, and the element of surprise.

“Glorious indeed” Percy smiled, hiding his distaste for the cigar in Rowan’s hands. He had plently of vices of his own, but killing himself slowly had never appealed. “I’ll get us through the door then”.

He said the words with more confidence than he felt, hurrying from beneath the rocky overhang and along the cliff face towards Koros Ridge. It wouldn’t do to let either the Deucalian or his fellow Sith sense his hesitancy, or the way his recent injury had unsettled his soul. They were better allies than most, but this was Percy’s enterprise and must remain so. He mustn’t allow them any opportunity to wrest control.

Drawing close to the entrance, the young Sith scanned the scene ahead. Old and decrepit, Koros Ridge had never had the luxury of the latest technology or first rate security. An industrial workplace for the masses, its entrance was wide and yawning, barred now only by two rusting gates that hung unevenly from their posts. Ajar slightly, they had been propped open wide enough for men to slip through in single file. Laziness of the highest order.

The ramparts above seemed all but deserted and Percy was almost about to step out when he saw it. A sudden glow; the end of a cigar not unlike his friend’s. A single guard was keeping sentry above the gate, barely giving the perimeter much attention as he fiddled with a lighter.

Intending to distract the man, Percy concentrated quietly, gesturing with a free hand and conjuring a spark of light in the air above the mercenary’s head. It caught the fool’s attention immediately and he followed it blindly, seemingly seeking its source. Percy drew it along, leading the guard along the gangway and into the open, where his one of his counterparts could take a clear shot.

Except luck was with them. Hands full and with his eyes on the light, the guard seemed to lose his footing and stumble, hitting the handrail and falling straight over it. He fell like a marionette in the wind, cracking his skull on the metal walls before he could so much as grunt in shock.

One down, and not a shot fired. Smiling, Percy motioned to his allies to move up.

@Korvo @Insalius

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

There was always a... calm, before the violence. Like a stillness in the air, filled with the static of anticipation and adrenaline. Uhtred had felt it before, time and time again. Yet despite it all, it wasn't a feeling he ever truly got used to. There was never a full acclimation to it, where that sensation would diminish, where he could ignore it. If he were honest, there was a measure of irritation that Uhtred felt when he acknowledged that sensation. He associated it with the feeling of fear, but it was one of the few things that both his mother and-his father agreed on; it was a valuable thing that one should never lose. That sensation kept one cautious, alert and attentive. It kept one alive.

It wasn't quite a finessed form of mental preparedness, but it suited him to keep his mind focused. Any semblance of that preoccupied state of mind shed away as Percy acted against the first sentry spotted on the rampart. Initially, Uhtred had assumed he'd see some form of telekinetics, perhaps see lightning bolts cast out, or some other form of extravagant wizardry. He'd seen it once or twice before, but it was still a spectacle to him. The Deucalian had to suppress some level of disappointment as he came to notice his employer create a small distraction of light.

"Subtle", Uhtred said quietly. It wasn't a blast of lightning, but it became clear quickly that it would serve its purpose. In fact, Uhtred which was both surprised and in near-disbelief at how effective Fleck's distraction was, as the bumbling sentry ended up tripping and falling to his death. Uhtred simply stood and stared at the entire occurrence, not shaking his head, not dropping his jaw, but simply staring.

"Jæja... nú er það bara sorglegt", Uhtred mumbled to himself, shaking his head.

Proceeding in through the gate, Uhtred ended up in a corridor that headed off in both directions... and turning to his right, came face to face with a stunned patrol of mercenaries. A slight pause ensured where neither Uhtred nor the mercenaries did anything but stare, before everyone spun into action. Drawing both his beskad and his elduröxi into his hands, Uhtred stabbed his beskad beween the plates and into the throat of the first mercenary, the one closest to him, before he could pull his blaster up.

Leaving his beskad lodged into the gullet of the first mercenary, Uhtred hooked his elduröxi around the waist of the mercenary, pulling with both weapons to create a buffer between himself and the other two mercenaries. Sure enough, both mercenaries fired at Uhtred, with their blasterfire getting intercepted by the first mercenary's body. Pushing forward, Uhtred kicked the first mercenary, who was in his death throes, off his blade and toward the second mercenary. As the second mercenary caught the corpse and threw it off him, Uhtred targeted the gaps between his chest plates and stabbed in his upper torso.

As he quickly retrieved his beskad, Uhtred then threw his elduröxi at the skull of the third mercenary. However, just as he threw his axe, the third mercenary fired his blaster one last time, striking Uhtred's armor at the shoulder. Knocking him backwards and into a nearby wall, the Deucalian dropped to a knee as he grabbed his shoulder. Clinching his teeth, Uhtred exhaled sharply from the pain. Then inhaling as he stood back up, the Deucalian walked over to the corpse of the third mercenary and pulled his axe from the skull it had become lodged in.

"What do you think are the chances that someone heard all this?", Uhtred remarked, humorously grinning from beneath his helmet. If his senses weren't sharpened before, they were now. He'd have to be more cautious as the group proceeded.

@Insalius @Alhon

 

[Rowan Harlow]

"Very high." Rowan gestured towards the nearby corner, the sound of surprised shouting and running coming from further down the corridor. Without elaborating he went to that corner, taking out his vibroknife to quickly stick around. The three incoming reinforcements were still a bit farther down, blasters up and slightly crouched as they made their way towards the invaders, but their formation gave the Noble an idea. Kneeling down, he clung to the corner as the lead two passed, eyes concentrated at chest level and thus missing the still and lowered Rowan. It was when the third came to round the corner that he leapt up, cleanly slicing the man's throat and lowering his corpse to the ground. Now there were just two, which to be honest there would be just none very shortly.

Using the Force, Rowan boosted his physical capabilities as he leapt forward at the backs of the remaining reinforcements. An overhand throw sunk the vibrodagger into the back of the rear of the two, causing him to crumple in a grunt of pain. Still moving even as his companion turned to see the death of his friend, Rowan grabbed the hilt of his lightsaber from his other sleeve to move close to his left hip, an old quickdraw technique that his family had taught him as he grew. He triggered the lightsaber as he 'drew' the hilt with his right hand, the growing blade cutting through the blaster, plus the hands that held it, like a hot knife through butter. Not finished, he effortlessly changed the course of the blade of light into a reverse slash across the chest, or rather through the chest. The multiple parts fell to the ground at the same time as he deactivated the lightsaber, twirling the hilt around a finger before slipping it back into his sleeve before grabbing his dagger for his other sleeve. Pausing to listen, he couldn't hear any others coming towards them. "Well, that wasn't too bad. So, six down, nearly halfway there."

@Korvo @Alhon

 

[Percy Fleck]

“Seven, by my count”.

Percy stepped slowly around the bodies, ears pricked lest more of their comrades come running. Rowan and Uhtred had done well, proving themselves the soldiers they appeared to be. Their talents and quick thinking had got them inside Koros Ridge, claiming three scalps each already. With the sentry Percy had led to his death, that made seven.

Of course, it had not been entirely without a price. “I imagine it takes a fair bit more to put a Deucalian on his back?” he whispered, nodding towards the scorched armour on Uhtred’s shoulder. The injury was regrettable, almost as much as the sound of the blaster bolt that caused it. But the young Sith was fairly sure they would survive both. If more of the gang had been nearby, they would have shown themselves by now.

He took a few steps further down the corridor, leaning around the corner that led deeper into the mine. The coast was clear, but Percy hesitated nonetheless. Bringing up the rear had appealed to him, leading from the front less so. But he could not show weakness. Reluctantly drawing his gloved hand from a pocket, he held the blaster in his palm tightly as he pressed onwards, free hand ready to work his magic any time.

It wasn’t long before he heard voices. Distant, but drawing nearer, laughs and shouts and idle chatter. The sound of men waking and bemoaning their day. A large rusting door was set into the far wall, peeling letters still legible. Crew Room.

Percy couldn’t know how many of the lowlife squatted in the room beyond, but there were several at least, just from the voices. The sound of their chit chat was echoing through a gap in a partly collapsed partition.

The young Sith crouched low, gesturing for his companions to do the same. The door was the only way in or out. They had to make a move before the waking mercs came stomping through it.

Popping a smoke grenade from his belt, Percy aimed for the jagged opening in the wall. Once the room was filled, they could sally in or cut the men down as they ran out.

Get ready he motioned.

Percy threw the grenade. It arced through the air as if in slow motion, on course for its target.

Then the door opened. It all happened in a faction of a second. The grenade hit the inside of the swinging door, ricocheting to the floor, right at the feet of a half-dressed mercenary on his way to the bathroom. The man just had time to look up, down, up again and see the three of them before it popped with a bang, thick white smoke billowing all around.

The mercenary jumped aside more on instinct than anything else, kicking out at Percy and catching him across the temple before he could dodge away. The booted foot sent him sprawling, but not before he swiped back angrily with a free hand, lifting the man off his feet with the Force and throwing him against the wall.

Percy rolled away from the door, clutching his throbbing head as the room filled with the thick vapour.

Hopefully his counterparts could still make something of the opportunity.

@Korvo @Insalius

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

"And yet?", Uhtred said, an interjection of his that was more for the sake of keeping the mood from becoming dour. "Still almost halfway there, are we not?"

Gripping his shoulder, Uhtred slowly and carefully flexed his arms. It hurt, but it was a necessary pain. The sharp sensation was something he had to get used to, when his adrenaline was absent from him. And besides that, pain helped keep him more alert than complacent.

"Among my people, we have a saying, a battlecry; fyrst að blæða, síðast að deyja", Uhtred said, inhaling sharply as he holstered his beskad-and his elduröxi-and pulling his lockbow from his back. "First to bleed, last to die. This is nothing."

Uhtred followed down the corridor as the trio proceeded. The deeper into the complex they went, however, the more obvious it had gradually become that those inside were too far removed from the areas by the entrance to have heard the brief skirmish that had just taken place. Crouching down at Fleck's signal, Uhtred took aim and readied himself as the smoke grenade was tossed in amongst the unsuspecting mercenaries. Leveling his lockbow, Uhtred fired the trigger into the doorway, bursting holes through it as bluish-violet blaster bolts tore through the swinging door.

The smoke was especially thick now, and Uhtred himself couldn't see most of those inside, but he could hear the screams. It was a special kind of outcry, what came when exposed flesh was seared by scorching plasma. After several bolts fired, the first scream came, as a blaster bolt struck one mercenary in his chest near the center of the collar bone, at the lower base of the neck. His death would have been far from instant, but it would have been quick, all the same. And painful. A few shots later came a second scream, with a mercenary who herself was struck three times, twice at her stomach and once at the mid-torso, near to her heart.

Uhtred's finger had been held down until the blaster bolts stopped firing. Part of the reason was of course to prepare a form of suppression fire, but also to sew discord and give his allies time to prepare for their own attacks. Faintly colored smoke emerged from the now burning outer chamber of his lockbow, and Uhtred mounted his weapon to his back once more. He could have simply reloaded it with an additional clip, but with the visibility being what was, there was little merit in it, given that he was no exceptional marksman.

Once again drawing his beskad-and elduröxi-to his hands, Uhtred charged forth into the smoke-filled room. Figured, partially obscured in the smoke, were around him, but clarity was difficult. As the Deucalian Reaver prepared to attack, his eye caught the glimmer of light against polished durasteel. A vibro-sword, to be sure. Acting immediately, Uhtred shifted from attacking to a defensive parry, blocking the strike from the vibro-sword with his axe. As Uhtred prepared a counter-attack with his own sword, initiating a stabbing thrust, a firm iron-clad heel impacted his upper chest, knocking him backwards.

Hitting the wall while composing himself yet again, Uhtred entered a battle-ready stance and readied himself for another attack, or to engage once he again caught the visage of his enemy.

"If they were not armed before, they are now!"

@Insalius @Alhon