Ask Crossing Lines

[Max Dram]

MURKHANA CITY
Murkhana, 7.00am local time​

Murkhana used to be a tourist destination they said. These days, it was a squalid, polluted world, with a sky thick with fumes and streets awash with poverty and illness. A titanic fall from grace.

Max Dram could sympathise. Not so long ago, he had been a rising junior officer in the Sith Empire, a Lieutenant cresting Commander, with a good reputation, competent men under his command and even a Sith girlfriend to boot. He had thought he had it all.

Recent events had turned his world upside down. He realised now that his choice in the face of the Imperial schism - to stand with Celeste and the Sith - had been misguided. He based his choices on what he knew, but Warmaster Din had shown him that he knew far less than he ever thought. He had forgotten to trust his superiors and the vital importance of service before self.

One way or another, he was determined to prove he was still the man who had given over a decade of loyal service to the Empire. He had lost his head not because the Empire was unimportant to him, but because it was so important. In time, he would show the Warmaster and everyone else that.

He lent against the alley wall, folding his arms impatiently in his nondescript armour. He had lost his unique blastsword and armour set when the Empire snatched him from Rattatak. Now he was just a regular soldier and it didn't even pay to flaunt his military credentials on this particular mission. His dog tags still hung around his neck beneath the plating and he had his Corporal credentials if they were needed. Not that they counted for much, he was barely more than a squaddie these days.

Command was treating him worse than a squaddie of course, given the ground he had to make up. Border patrol out here on Murkhana was grunt work, usually not even fit for those in uniform. But he was a special case and so they had sent him alone. His only help would be a contact he had been told to meet here in the alley.

He would be pissed, if he was not just glad to be alive.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

She didn’t feel entirely sold on the move she made, but there was no turning back now. The Imperials had reached out to work with Mandalorians in the past, and Darth Raze had pushed them all towards electing a Mandalore. However, that Mandalore led them to nothing and the clans had scattered to the winds once again. The Mandalore after that was not much better. Shale was tired of the stagnancy and being reduced to nothing each time a new Mand’alor failed. She had always been an outlier, and she finally embraced it fully to exit Mandalorian space.

No small part of that was the fact that Mand’alor had been her lover. He had begun to take away the many layers she had, but ultimately it didn’t work out. Shale put tremendous distance between them, finding herself in Imperial space. The recent ousting of Sith renewed her faith in the ideals, and she was given a role here. However, her goal was to ultimately lead a Mandalorian special ops unit within the Imperial war machine. It would certainly give her more purpose than Clan Vizsla ever did.

Shale was clad in full Beskar’gam, her signature black. When Max arrived, he would see a Mandalorian standing where he may have expected an Imperial officer. She turned to face him, her helmet tilting slightly to take in sight of him, “Where are your men?” Her mechanized voice with accented Basic resounded. Shale pulled up a datapad and scrolled through a few details. There was an audible sigh, “Ah, you’re that guy,” Why they stuck her with him was unclear. Perhaps it was because the Warmaster didn’t entirely trust Mandos either.

“I’m Ensign Vizsla,” She said simply, not one for drawn out formalities. She turned on her heel and started to walk, expecting him to do the same.

“There are reports of a few enemy outposts set up over that horizon,” Shale said as she pointed over a hill, “Area in between is full of mines. ISC has been trying to move on the capital here,” She paused for a moment, “The latest rumor is that someone local is helping them, but we can’t pinpoint who. Could be a politician, diplomat, or military traitor,” She turned to look at him.

“I won’t have to worry about you shooting me in the ass the moment I’m not looking, right? Because I’d rather get any bullshit out of the way right now before we have to work together,” She said curtly.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

A Mandalorian was not what Max had expected, but it could have been far worse. He knew their history and had seen a few in action in his early years. They knew how to fight, that was for sure.

Her helmet distilled her voice into a neutral tone, but something about her stance told him she was indeed a she.

"I'm all the man you need" he replied, his old confidence reigniting. Her apparent disappointment would not do at all, but he could work on that. That guy was a little harsh and he nearly shot something bullish back. Yeah, the one they could not afford to lose. But his reinvention was still raw and in any case he was not stupid. The last thing he wanted the Warmaster to hear was that he was acting cocky or proud right now.

"Corporal Dram" he offered "but sounds like you already know that". Ensign was not a rank that got much use, but perhaps it was a field commission. In any case, it seemed the spiky armoured lady was in charge.

Max looked down at her impassively as she gave her short briefing. He had read the mission notes, but she had a little more of the flavour. Murkhana was a border world and the Corporal could see why the ISC would want to get a foothold here; it would split Imperial forces and perhaps even give the Consortium a run at Ossus. They had to be stopped in their tracks.

"I've never shot another Imperial" he said flatly. It was true and the insinuation hurt more than she knew. "So if you're with the Empire, we're good". He looked her up and down, purposefully raising an eyebrow. "Foreign Legion?". Of the two of them, she was the one who's first loyalty was clearly elsewhere.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale’s helmeted visor stared at Dram after his quip back, and it was difficult to tell what expression was beneath it, if any. However, a moment later a mechanized chuckle erupted rather abruptly. It was unclear if she found his comment amusing, or if she was laughing at him. Without her face visible, it would remain a mystery for now.

She led the way towards their makeshift military camp. The main teams would run raids at night. She and Dram were relegated to boring scouting duty. They weren’t allowed to do any of the actual cool work just yet, which was ridiculous considering her extensive experience as a Mandalorian.

“Something like that,” Shale responded to Dram as they arrived at the camp. She stopped at a table and used a Holo projector to bring up the local map. There were points marked on it to show areas of suspected activity that the two were supposed to scope out.

“You seen no Mandalorian before?” She asked, unamused as he eyed her, “Probably because that sorry piece of osik you’re wearing,” Shale said, entirely unimpressed with his subpar armor. It was clear her Basic wasn’t perfect as well. She had been an armorer for her clan, and seeing the cheap crap people wore all around her made her cringe.

Shale pointed to a hill far in the distance that was to the right of the no man’s valley, “Comms tower there. We take, it finish our part of the mission,” She shrugged vaguely, finding the job silly and beneath her, but it’s how the Imperials wanted to operate.

With that, she began to march in that direction. They weren’t given the luxury of having their own bikes or speeders just yet.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Max unclipped his helmet from his belt and set it on the table. He did not know how Mandos lived in theirs; even on on polluted backwater like Murkhana, he would rather be breathing the open air and feeling the wind on his face any day.

He studied the holo map she brought up, marking the two points of interest in his mind. "I've seen plenty of your lot" he replied, which was an over exaggeration "though not for a while now". He had seen one or two Mandos in action in his early years of service, but they often seemed a scattered people these days, the qualities that made a soldier like him respect them harder to see.

"This is all I could get my hands on" he said, in reference to his armour "lost all my good stuff in the upheaval". The word came from nowhere but it would do as a catch all for his insurrection and fall. "I am sure you know what it's like to have to manage with what you have". He fully intended to acquire or craft some new armour, once he had the means and a sense of who the new Max Dram was going to be.

He took in the details of the mission, if scout duty and putting a flag on a comms tower qualified as a mission. He was past feeling sorry for himself about such things, but the grind was still boring. He also held out little hope of thrilling banter with Vizsla at this point.

"Lead on" he said, as if she were not already six paces ahead. He fixed his helmet and hoisted his blaster rifle, checking the mag and safety as they left camp. His instincts were still there, if little else. "So why help the Empire?" he asked over the comlink, mildly curious. "What's the endgame?".

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

She watched as he took off his helmet. He was certainly pleasing to look at, and she supposed the rumors surrounding him made sense. Her posture and helmet didn’t betray her thoughts and she turned and began to walk.

Shale scoffed as she walked, “You know nothing of my people” She said curtly. It wasn’t the first time outsiders tried to relate to Mandos, and it sparked old distaste in her. His question lingered in the air for a few paces as they walked. It was a question that made her wince a bit, but she knew it was a logical one to ask. Aruetii always had a habit of asking a lot of probing questions or filling the air with the sound of their own voice. This man didn’t give a shit about any of the answers or her story, he was just down in the dumps from losing everything. In some ways she could relate and that was perhaps why she chose to bother answering.

“Because there is…structure..stability…and no Sith,” She added, her disdain for the Sith clear in her tone. Her Clan wouldn’t back her choices, but she wasn’t concerned with that anymore. They had done nothing for the Mandalorian people and she was working to find a foothold. There was a possibility that it would open doors for her clan, “I want to train special ops force for empire and make armor. Get my clan a place."

She tilted her head to cast a sideways glance at him, “Why you come back Corporal instead of die for your beliefs?” She asked, thinking nothing of the gravity of the question. Honor and tradition were the ways of her people. If he so strongly believed in the Sith, why not just stick with it till the end? Unless he was a spy.

She looked away when she heard something up ahead. Shale looked through the scope of her rifle, “What the..” She began, spotting what looked like an AMS infected zombie. It was stumbling towards them, one of its arms missing. Unbeknownst to them, they had just begun to walk into a massive horde. And they were quite far from the Imperial camp.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Max had said surprisingly little about Vizla's people but he had still managed to piss her off. He was beginning to get the sense that was easy to do.

They walked a fair way before she answered, giving Max time to notice the bits of his shoddy armour that chafed and caught. He was going to have to improve on this junk as soon as practically possible.

When Vizla finally came out with structure and stability, the Corporal was strangely moved. It was how he had always seen the Empire, though there were few who shared his attachment to such things. The absence of Sith was a new consideration, but given all the headaches he'd had on that subject, he could not disagree.

He was surprised again when she offered up her ambition. A special ops force, with armour and legitimacy to match was a sound goal for any soldier and he had met few women with that kind of focus. "Well with you carving that place out for them they might just have a chance". He wondered if there were many in her Clan and, if so, why she was out here on her own.

Her own question was like a knife to the groin and he half suspected she knew that, though it was hard to tell a thing through that impenetrable helmet. "The Warmaster showed me proof that my beliefs were wrong" he replied stoically.

It was true. Had he not seen the Sith cowed and defeated at Junction, he would have continued to believe in the supremacy of their powers. But Altair had exposed them as less than the gods Max thought them to be. He was a soldier, with views based on facts, not blind faith. When the facts changed, you had to change with them. The Warmaster was also particularly persuasive.

He was about to slip back into brooding when the AMS zombie came stumbling over the ridge, careening towards them with its remaining arm flailing. Max took aim and fired two rounds at its head, hitting it square on and sending it tumbling. His victory was short lived though as a horde of the damn things followed, bursting into view like the first rank of Hell's legions.

"I didn't see these guys on the risk assessment!" he yelled, drawing level with Vizla and pulling a grenade from his hip, cocking his rifle in his other hand. This was going to get messy.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale didn’t know what to make of the faith Dram seemingly placed in her abilities to whip up an ops team. Her helmet worked wonders to keep her thoughts guarded, though there was a slight tilt of it towards his direction when he said it.

She didn’t fire just yet, quickly considering her options. However, Dram popped off two rounds - admittedly with impressive accuracy. She growled beneath her helmet, slamming the butt of her rifle against his barrel, “They’re attracted to noise!” She snapped, briefly having considered simply pummeling her way through them. However, she remembered that his armor was complete junk and wouldn’t hold up to overwhelming melee.

The noise did its job, bringing hordes from all sides, “Save your ammo,” She said, panic beginning to set in as the horde began to rush towards them. She could see the comms tower in the distance, and it was the only reprieve. Shale leveled her wrist and fired a surge of flames at a group of them, hoping to clear a path. It was only partially helpful, but they were soon overwhelmed.

“Fuck!” She yelped, bringing out her vibrosword. She was a whirlwind of motions, spinning the blade about to slice off heads and bury into skulls. At one point she grabbed one of them to use as a shield to shove her way forward, clearing a path while her vibrosword lobbed off more heads laterally.

“GO NOW! GET TO THE TOWER AND COVER ME!” Shale yelled, giving him the tiniest little opening to squeeze past her and rush to the tower. With his shooting and the vantage point, he could take out the zombies surrounding her immediately so she could make it to the tower.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Vizsla seemed to think he had been too hasty, but they did not have time to trade strategies as the multitudes rampaged towards them.

Max brought his rifle around, but the Mando's advice to save ammo was sound. There was no telling how many of these would keep coming and in any case they were sitting ducks on open ground. He reversed his weapon and swung the metal butt hard, knocking the first zombie to reach him down into the dirt.

Flames roared from Vizla's wrist, briefly scattering the horde before more closed on them from both sides. Max dropped his rifle in its sling and drew his knife, kicking out at those that came for him in an effort to prevent a crush. He wished desperately for the Widowmaker, but the blastsword was probably still in its holster on Rattatak, if it had not been raided by thieves. He had only had his knife, his fists and his wits to defend himself.

His companion had come more prepared and Vizsla's own vibrosword swung around them, cutting down zombies and stalling the charge. When she cleared a narrow opening and shouted at Max to run, he did not hesitate, a soldier's instincts overriding his surprise. Shouldering through the gap, he elbowed the addled creatures to the ground and made for the tower, throwing his primed grenade to clear the way.

The explosion blew a path, sending mangled body parts and polluted earth flying into the air. Reaching the comms tower, Max shot open the lock on the metal gate at its base, and slipped through. A simple metal bolt that could be opened from both sides kept it snagged and he slid it across, hoping the pursuing zombies lacked the sense to open the gate. Pounding up the metal gantry steps circling up the tower, he took position on a small landing and found Vizsla in his scope. She was still standing and fighting like a banshee.

"Keep your chin up metalhead" he whispered to himself, cocking his head and flicking to tracer shots. A hail of red fire lanced from his barrel, trailing through the grey sky to bring down the zombies encircling the Mando. He was aiming for a show big enough to take the nearest down and distract the rest, giving Vizsla a chance of escape.

She was hard work, but he did not fancy being out here on his own.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Exhaustion began to set in as she kept pummeling, cutting and bashing her way through the throng of infected. It was a credit to her armor that she managed to push through without taking any bites. There were several layers worn that the infected would have to pierce through. However, that didn’t mean anxiety didn’t well up in her chest and her movements were becoming more frantic.

For a moment she wondered if the Imperial deserter simply abandoned her. She wouldn’t be surprised - he had turned his back on his own people after all. She was just some Mandalorian he didn’t know. Seconds later, a burst of blasterfire erupted like music to her ears, peppering into the dead around her. She could hear her own gasped breaths within her helmet, clocking an infected in the face to knock it over.

With a path cleared, Shale ran for her life, relying on the cover provided by Dram as she bolted towards the gate. She hastily opened it, unleashing another burst of flames at the infected that began to crowd there. Barely hooking the gate back in place, Shale climbed up the tower, making her way towards Dram.

Once she reached the platform, she collapsed down to sit, her chest rising and falling from exhaustion. Her armor was coated in blood and viscera, none of which could be risked getting into open wounds or any orifices.

The hordes gathered around the tower, screaming and clawing. However, they weren’t advanced enough to climb or undo doors. Their biggest risk was them piling high enough to reach the platform, but that would only happen if more came. Nevertheless, the two were effectively trapped.

“You…shoot good,” She said in between labored breaths. It was the closest he would get to a thank you. She put her bloody vibrosword away, internally cursing herself for not fixing up her jetpacks. The thing had been faulty for days and she kept putting it off.

“How much ammo you have left?” She asked, concern lacing her tone. She hadn’t used her rounds yet, but if they had to fight their way out of here, they were screwed.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

His companion thankfully managed to break free of the horde, sprinting over the open ground to the tower. Max tried to keep her covered all the way, taking down those zombies that got close with all the precision he could bring to bear. He tried going for the head wherever possible, downing the things with only one or two shots.

He relaxed a fraction once Vizsla made it through the gate and heaved herself up the gantry steps. They at least had a breather and a more defensible position. The hostiles in sight began to mass around the gate at the foot of the tower and he considered dropping another grenade on the tightly packed bodies. But he could not risk blowing a hole in the metalwork.

"One of the things I haven't lost" he replied, crouching to get a closer look at the Mando. She seemed uninjured, but winded and her comments were even more clipped than before.

He checked the ammo on his rifle. The Wolverine's reload light was indeed blinking at him and he slotted a fresh mag in from his belt. He only had one other; after that he would be down to his blaster pistol and his knife. It better not come to that.

"Enough if we keep out of any more raves with our friends down there" he said, glancing down at the zombies. "I say we head up to the comms room up top. Once we are out of sight, they might lose interest". They were safe enough for the moment and they had come for the tower after all. If they could assume control of it from the comms room at the top of the zigzagging gantry, they could probably collect enough intel to complete the mission. At the very least, they should have the means to call for help. "Need a hand up?"

He cast an eye across the barren landscape and the zombies below. "If the ISC want this place, looks like it is not just us they will need to clear out".

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

While she normally didn’t allow anyone close to her, she didn’t protest the quick inspection Dram did. After all, he had reasons to be worried about any bites or scratches that could result in him being stuck with a Mando infected, “Nothing broke through,” She reassured him, checking her guns and ammo to ensure nothing was lost.

She exhaled, taking the proffered hand to hoist herself up. She was far heavier than she looked, and he would likely be caught off guard. Shale didn’t disagree with his idea, jutting her chin to encourage him to lead the way. She glanced over the landscape, spotting a few of them attempting to climb already. The sight was unsettling, and they needed to disappear quickly.

The journey to the comms room was mercifully without incident. Curiously, the door was locked from the inside. Shale glanced over at Dram, shrugged, and then slammed a booted foot into the door to shove it off the hinge. To her surprise, she heard a yelp of surprise from the inside.

“Don’t hurt me!” A voice called out as Shale burst in with a blaster pointed. From the looks of it, it was a terrified man dressed as a civilian Imperial worker. From his disheveled appearance and the stench in the room that Dram would smell if he had his helm off, he had been here for some time.

“Who are you?”

“I-I’m Bert Ivon,” The man said shakily, his hands up in the air, “I-I was assigned with two others to man this t-tower but the radio started malfunctioning. Before it gave out, we commed through the radio since this is a comlink deadzone otherwise…. We had no response but hordes of infected showed up. The other two with me…they attempted to escape after we got holed up here for a few days and they…they..” His voice trembled.

“Why there infected here?” Shale asked. Infected were usually corralled and killed as standard procedure. None of this made sense or why the hordes were here.

“There-...there are rumors,” The man said, sweating profusely, “Th-that there’s a scientist of sorts in the enemy camp. We only learned it from intercepting some signals and messages. Sounds like he’s trying to release a mutated variant of AMS to what Imperials eat or drink. B-But we haven’t been able to get that information back to HQ. The equipment here just started malfunctioning and now it’s just me left…please get me out of here!”

Shale said nothing for a long moment. All of this sounded fishy. The equipment failing was entirely too convenient. Could the infected have been drawn here to silence the radio operators? None of this sounded like standard combat engagement. She looked over at Dram to get his take. Her first thought was to simply shoot this guy because he appeared suspicious, but she recognized that sometimes she was a bit too Mandalorian…

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Vizsla was pretty solid and heavier than expected in her armour. Max was quietly impressed by the strength and fortitude she must possess to bear it so easily. He helped her up and together they made their way up to the top of the tower.

Max was still running through scenarios when his companion opted to kick the door in, something he hoped they would not live to regret. The worst thing inside turned out to the shaken Bert Ivon, who was full of nothing but bad news.

Max pulled off his helmet, letting Ivon see his face. "Corporal Dram, Imperial Defence Force" he coughed, trying to shake off the awful smell. He motioned to the Mando "this is Ensign Vizsla. We're all on the same team here". The man appeared to be a sweaty, trembling mess and he needed him to calm down if they were going to make sense of all this.

"Take a breath and calm down, you're in no danger right now and we will get you out of here. But first, you need to be straight with us". Max set his helm down on a small table and lowered his rifle, though he kept it in his grip as he stepped towards Ivon. The man was small and meek and the Corporal towered over him, hoping to use his height to get his way as he had so many times before.

"You said the radio started malfunctioning. When, how and what was the cause?". An unprompted equipment failure in an isolated location like the tower made little sense. The fact three comms workers had been unable to resolve it even less.

"It was a few days back" the man said, gathering himself a little "just a load of white noise all of a sudden, on every band. We never worked out what started it but we must be being jammed".

Max considered the suggestion for a moment. "The ISC line is too far out for them to jam comms at this distance" he frowned at the worker "and this is an Imperial comms tower, not a field phone on the back of a truck". The Corporal had set up and maintained clear comms in far more challenging theatres. This tower was designed for one function only; it could not be jammed by conventional means. This man had to know that.

"and the other two men?" Max asked, suspicion rising inside him. "They ran for it?"

"Yes, yes!" Ivon said, a little too quickly. "Both of them lost it and made a break for it, but the things got them both...".

Now Max knew he was lying. The gate at the foot of the tower had been locked, but men in a hurry did not stop to set the security. The smell too, it was not just body odour and stale air. It was something worse, much worse.

He saw the knife too late, only managing to raise an arm as it flashed towards his neck. The blade skittered across his wristguard and slid between the plates at the elbow. Max roared in pain as it plunged up into his upper arm, blood running running free.

Ivon was already pulling it out, slashing again, and Max staggered back, still in shock. The man was no Imperial, he had to be an ISC plant. Whatever had happened here was his doing.

Rolled 5/20 for interrogation success

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

It was clear Dram was far better at the whole talking thing than she was. Even without the slight language barrier, she would have shot first and asked questions later. This sounded like more mystery solving than combat and mission and she was out of her element. Nevertheless, she let the exchange play out, privately impressed by Dram catching the worker off guard. The guy was sweating even more, looking suddenly jumpy.

Shale glanced away briefly and there was a blur of movement, “Shab!” She hissed as the guy suddenly lunged. Where the hell was that knife hiding?! Shale didn’t hesitate, the blaster in her hand in a flash and a bolt right through the man’s head to drop him.

She pocketed the man’s knife before walking over to Dram, “You okay?” She asked, “Need stop blooding,” Shale said urgently. She reached over to quickly undo the plates along his arm, knowing her way around most types of armor. It was especially critical to stop the bleeding when around any potential infected. Who knew what happened to the other workers?

“This is why Mando always shoot first,” Shale grumbled to herself as she took out a medpack and applied pressure to staunch the bleeding.

“Our mission only secure tower,” She said, “Tower secure. We find way out. Let others deal with the other things,” It sounded quick and simple for her. She had no interest in delving into the mystery of whatever was going on here, even if it would make a difference with Imperial leadership. It all sounded above her paygrade.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Vizsla took the man down in seconds, though Max was still reeling long after Ivon hit the floor. How could a petty plant like Bert Ivon get the jump on him and why the fuck did his arm hurt so bad? He gritted his teeth as the Mando unfastened the plates around the blood-soaked limb, an unusual amount for a knife wound. The fool must have gotten lucky and nicked a vein or two.

But it was Max who felt the fool. He was better than this, at least he had been. "It just needs patching for now" he grumbled "I'll be fine". He did not pull away but he resented the moment of weakness, particularly when she seemed so formidable. "I knew there was something going on here" he said, eyeing Ivon's corpse "you can't jam a tower like this unless you do it from the inside. Whatever is blocking the signal is here somewhere, not broadcasting from the ISC camp". Maybe Vizsla was right, maybe it did not matter. But Max could not face leaving without having achieved something.

"I'd wager it's on the roof" he said, overtightening the arm plate to compress the dressing over his wound. "I need to go up there and shut down whatever he's set up. Then the tower will be up and running again". He was probably more familiar with Imperial equipment, but his need went further than that. He had to see this through.

He strode towards the crippled door, noticing a small store in the corner of the room. "I bet our two missing comms men are in there" he said grimly, still marking the rank odour. "The rat probably killed them while they were sleeping and then took our systems off line. I didn't know the ISC fought this dirty, they will take some beating if so". Vizsla probably did not care, but she did claim some affinity with the Empire's ideals.

Max cocked his rifle, swallowing the searing pain in his arm and stepping into the doorway. He scanned the gantry and the wasteland below. No one was getting the jump on him ever again.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale was prepared to simply go back when Dram suggested investigating some more. She growled beneath the helmet, “You playing detective, Dram?” She barked at him as he made his way through the doorway with a slightly patched up arm. He needed medical attention, but she wasn’t his mother. If he wanted that thing to get infected, that was his problem.

She didn’t follow him immediately, shaking her head at his penchant for looking for more trouble. Their number one priority was getting out of here - what would finding some dead bodies do? Shale searched the man she shot, digging through his personal belongings. Nothing stuck out initially until she came across a syringe. She also read through a datapad- her Basic may have had an accent, but she could read it perfectly fine.

Meanwhile, when Max opened the door, he would be hit with a horrid stench that was far worse. His suspicions were correct - the other two were dead. And had been for a few days. Their personal items were still on them, one of them carrying a wallet with pictures of his family -a wife and two small children. The other was barely an adult, and this was likely his first job. Both had their throats slashed by the same knife that pierced Max.

Shale said nothing as they made their way up towards the top where the jammer was set up. As they climbed, she had an uneasy feeling. She didn’t burst in through the door this time, pressing her helmet against the surface to listen. She could hear a familiar rattling breath inside. Shale cursed to herself, leaning in closer to Dram to whisper, “Infected other side,” She said to him, “I think..probably past Imperials…that were sent on this mission before us,” She was suddenly questioning who was assigning these missions. Since the division of Imperials and Sith happened recently, no one was keeping track of every casualty or MIA report. It would be all too easy for an infilitrator to pose as a local officer that assigned missions to send soldiers to their deaths or into a trap. Now that she thought about it, almost all of the infected hordes were nothing but Imperials.

Shale drew out her vibrosword, looking to Dram before charging inside, “You ready?”

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Max was not playing detective, he was playing soldier, was he not? He looked at the two mangled bodies for a long moment, realising a soldier just got on with the job. He was trying to understand the job and make something more of it. He was still thinking like a leader when he was leading no one but himself.

He still could not just leave though, so he slammed the store door shut again and started hauling himself up on the roof. Vizsla followed, if a little sceptically, thought he had no idea how he sensed scepticism or anything else through that armour.

The door on the roof led to the internal workings of the comms array, more the inside of the machine than a room. When the Mando said she could hear infected in there, Max almost didn't believe her. Then he heard them shuffling about and the familiar rasping noises just the other side of the door.

"Great" was all he managed. They could have slipped one of his grenades through easy enough, but that would blow the whole comms array, the very opposite of getting it working.

He took a step back and set his back against a rail, putting the rifle's weight on his right side so all his left had to do was hold the foregrip.

"Ready" he said, burying the ache in his elbow and training his crosshair on the door. He barely missed a shot normally, he would not miss one here and now.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale’s visor stared in his direction for a few seconds, “Real gentleman, aren’t you, fucker? Ladies first always,” She muttered in Mando’a, a mechanized and amused chuckle escaping as she shook her head. She didn’t bother translating, nodding briefly to indicate she was going in. Another kick and the door burst open, revealing a giant, angry swarm. Shale purposely ducked to allow Dram to pop off a few shots.

She unleashed the flamethrower again, the room erupting in a collective screech from the ignited infected. They burst out and attempted to claw and bite. Shale drew out her vibroblade, lobbing off heads expertly. There were far more than she could have guessed and she found herself pressed back against the railing to fight them off.

Meanwhile, Dram would find himself especially swarmed because of the infected that could smell the blood from his injury. Several of them jumped right for his arm, aiming to tear it right off. Shale was too busy to notice, punching hard enough to crush the fragile, decayed skulls. After a mad rush of melee and fire, she finally drew out her blaster, shooting the last few.

There was an eerie silence save for the low rasp of the infected crawling around on the ground. Shale stomped her heavy boot on one’s head, glancing towards Dram. She was breathing heavily and inspecting several tears in between her armor. Thankfully nothing broke skin, but she wouldn't survive another close encounter, “Still alive?”

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Vizsla almost seemed to have a little chat with herself before she kicked the door in. Max half wondered if she was saying a little prayer, but then she enjoyed a little laugh and his hazel eyes narrowed. She was either losing it, or having a chuckle at his expense. This woman.

She booted the door and the meatbags came flailing out just as expected. Max took a few down instantly, just like bulls eyeing romp cats back home on Adumar. But there were more than expected, a lot more.

His Mando companion gave them some flame and then went to work with her blade again, but still they surged out the opening, their sheer number meaning they shouldered past her. Max tried to adapt, but they were inside his firing arc before he could reposition and he cursed as they reached for him, teeth gnashing and claws raking.

He knocked the first couple back, but then one of them got hold of his injured arm and pulled off his plates. He felt rough nails bite into his flesh, kicking out too late to send the creature sprawling. This was not happening. It was not. Another one tried to bite at his exposed arm, but he dislodged it after only a second, flinging it wide. His adrenaline was pumping now and even with only one good arm he was a force to be reckoned with, bludgeoning and punching to the ground those that got close.

Vizsla brought an end to it with her blaster, though not soon enough. Max gripped the rail with his right hand, fighting every instinct to look at his left. He knew what had happened, knew what the burning feeling in his left bicep meant. He did not want to admit it.

"Alive" he confirmed, through gritted teeth. "But fucked". She would see the blood running free from his left arm again and the armour plates clutched in the hands of the dead frackers. He could not even let her dress the wound this time. There was only one thing to be done and it would need to be soon.

Max pulled himself forward into the doorway. There were no more hostiles, but he could see what he had come for clearly. A small black box affixed to the processing unit just inside, flashing far too excitedly. The jammer.

He could have just switched it off, but the Corporal pulled it off violently and threw it to the floor, stamping it apart in one. "The tower will be back online now" he said grimly "we can radio for help and fill the Empire in on just what our ISC adversaries are prepared to do to win". He stared at the carnage all around, somewhat unsure if they already had won. So many men sent to their deaths and he, Max Dram, probably on the way to his own.

He turned to Vizsla, chest heaving. "Tell me you at least will make it out of this hell hole?"

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale didn’t realize what happened at first, but her focus soon turned to Max and his bitten arm. Almost on instinct, her blaster leveled towards his head. He wouldn’t be surprised at the reaction. Both of them knew what happened with a bite. The blaster remained pointed at him, and he likely had all sorts of thoughts about his life rushing through his mind. The way his career started, the way it showed promise, the mistakes he made, where he ended up and how he would finally leave the galaxy.

She barely heard his dramatic question from him and she could already imagine the expression beneath it. It would be so easy to simply shoot him and be done with it. It was how she operated, especially with auretii. And this one was already a deserter. There was no reason for sympathy for someone like him.

At long last, she growled and drew out her vibroblade, cleaned it off and held it up to the side. She unleashed her flamethrower on it, heating it up till it turned white hot. Shale turned towards Dram, nonchalantly yanking his helmet off and tossing that aside. Hilariously, if he tried the same with her, he would lose his head.

“I’m Max Dram and and I’m a giant pain in the ass,” Shale muttered in rapid Mando’a. Maybe he really would think she was saying a prayer this time. She reached for her ammo strap, shoving it into his mouth, “Bite,” She commanded as she took off his belt and tightly wrapped it around his upper bicep.

Shale extended his arm and placed it against a surface, bringing the blade and slamming it down to lob it off. There was a hiss as the hot metal seared into flesh to help cauterize the wound. The pain would horrific, but she stood there by him, clearly having done something like this before. He would likely pass out from shock, but the wound would be cauterized and sealed.

Shale didn’t take any chances. When he came to next, he would wake up to find himself tied to the railing outside the room with his remaining arm. Now, Dram was knocked out for a long time. She knew he was alive, but she wasn't going to rattle him back into pain sooner than she had to. So she used that time to radio in for help, which wouldn't arrive anytime soon. In the meantime, she occupied herself by activating the built in speakers of her helmet that she often used while working.

Popping on a favorite number, she was wandering about in the comms room while happily air drumming, moving around to the music and imagining herself back on stage with her guitar. At some point, she began to practice her moonwalking, coasting easily on her boots. She moonwalked past the doorway, briefly glancing out, disappearing and then promptly reappearing again. She cleared her throat, walking out towards Dram who was definitely awake now. She crouched down across from him, privately hoping his pain would make him permanently forget what he just saw.

“What your name? Who are you? And how many fingers?” She held up three. She had to check he was still with it. Her guess on the infection spread remained to be seen.

@Alhon