RUSH

[Síndri Vaēsahd]

Síndri scratched his cheek wildly. Idle talk and planning made him itchy. Trying to contain himself however, he fidgeted and shifted with at least a pinch of regard for preparation; perhaps only instilled in him by his masters' lashes. But he took to Anz' coddling, mincing the Aqualish's structuring with previous manservants' bathing instruction as a child. Like one of those old slaves serving on temple grounds, Anz was comforting; something Síndri subconsciously gravitated towards and protected. Still, Síndri spent a little more time flicking through the flashes of imagery and feelings than he did listening to Anz currently.

"Loot the criminal empire. That." Síndri pointed to the last words he heard and stretched with a double crack of lower spine digits. He yawned, looking around. And suddenly he realized that both elevator lifts looked the same. "So. Which way is down? And how much further? Are these lifts the only way down? Who goes first? Me or you? Do you think I can pass for one of these guys? I'm not giving up my lightsabers, you know. If they try to take them I'll twist their hands backwards. Nobody touches my lightsabers. Not them. Not you."

 

[Anz Laggo]

Anz should have realized earlier that he needed to be more simplistic when dealing with Sindri, as the young man was not of sound mind. He had a myriad of questions that might have been answered if he was paying attention to the schematic, but it was clear he was more interested in the pretty imagery than the actual substance of the map.

"The second lift on the left is down, and we are on the floor just above the apartment where the Gourami gang lives. There are stairs, however, and if we were especially desperate we could try to get above the building on this floor and carve or blast our way down. But I'd rather no waste time or ammo destroying parts of the building trying to get in through the roof." He slipped the pad into his pocket and directed the Exile toward the lift doors.

"The Gourami wear specific gang colors and keep close eyes on their sentries so I might, MIGHT, be able to fool the door guard but beyond that someone will eventually realize I don't belong. As for your...lightsabers, correct? No one will touch them, in fact I suspect we'll end up having to fight our way through the lower level at some point."

 

[Síndri Vaēsahd]

Ping.

A soft note chimed from that very 'second lift on the left', spherical fixture lighting up a dulled yellow above the lift door in this dim lit sub-level; seizing Síndri's attention, head snapping back at the sound. Síndri's eyes widened. He spat a hiss and shook a hand to the side, signaling his instinct to hide there behind the pillar and telegraphing his intention to do so. "Psst!"

Síndri darted left and spun around behind the square pillar, back to column support, almost tripping over a near dead junkie in a sunken stupor. Síndri reached for his lightsabers as quietly as possible, parting his trench coat and baring tattooed chest. His head leaned back sideways against the pillar, listening to whatever it was that was coming.

 

[Anz Laggo]

The 'ding' of the lift cued Anz in well before the panicked response of the Exile, who nearly trampled a homeless spice-addict trying to get behind cover. Someone or something was coming up the lift, and given the sounds of gunfire and lightsabers clashing on this floor odds were it was one of the damned Gourami gang doing a sweep and looking for their sentry. A sentry that was lying in a bloodied and broken heap in the middle of the floor even as the lift platform settled into slow alignment with the door. There was no time to move the body or cover it up, or even to duck further down the hallway to find cover, so Anz opted for a desperate tactic.

Throwing his cloak as tightly around himself as possible, he found a small space next to a nearby garbage bin and hunkered down next to it, sandwiched between the container and a pile of refuse. It was grotesque, it was pathetic, but he hoped he might be mistaken for another piece of gutter trash lurking in the shadows by whoever had taken the lift up. At least for long enough to draw his carbine and empty a magazine into this new interloper, or interlopers. It seemed like this mission was going loud after all.

 

[The Storyteller]

Devario Gourami was a man of little patience and a lot of anger. Raised in the slums of Nar Shaddaa, like most gang and Cartel members, his youthful innocence was twisted into a ruthless, sinister persona. Aside from sleeping with local hookers or tormenting other neighboring gangs, Devario had taken a particular liking with a number of spices. Already in the day alone, he had hit three blunts, shot up several stimulants, and sniffed enough opiate to kill any ordinary man. Fortunately for him, he was no ordinary man.

Years of brotherly discipline and constant fighting with either friends or foes, Devario had become a force to be reckoned with. Some had even compared the young man to those among the ranks of Exiles— because rumor had it that he fought and killed a Jedi Knight with his bare hands, a feat considered impossible. Of course, it was only a rumor— right?

Regardless, Devario had felt a strange foreboding take hold of him. One of the sentries in the lower floors had failed to report in, and while the other guards simply shrugged it off, given the man was a heavy drinker, Devario remained suspicious. The Cartel was intent on cutting out the Faro Candiru gang from Nar Shaddaa, so he had to stay on guard. There was no telling when those damned slugs might finally get off their asses and send someone to take them out.

So, Devario simply sent out several of his personal guards to check the situation out. Meanwhile, he would remain comfortable on his lounge in the upper floor, drinking fine wine and flirting with scantily clad women. If there were potential assassins lurking about, they would have to first carve through these would-be attackers, now exiting from the turbolift, and make their way to the top floor.

@Acedia

 

[Síndri Vaēsahd]

Síndri's breath quickened. His inexperience and immaturity thumped loudly in his chest, radiating to his head as the blood rushed his ears. It was in moments like these, when he tried to think and analyze a situation, that everything went wrong. His emotions were his guiding light, often cutting through the haze in his eyes. When provoked or bled to tears by a foul sight, he was clear headed. But now as he waited there with back to board, brought there by his training to assess a situation despite his instincts to let go, Síndri was unbalanced.

His eyes darted from thought to thought. To Anz in hiding, he considered waiting for the opportune moment. To naked addict body, he devised a distraction. To coat covering the dead, he imagined making it look alive. To crack in the opposing pillar, he wondered if he could make it crumble fast enough. But with each change in direction, his eyes grew hazier. Each new thought brought with it corresponding memory. Anz mirrored something in the way Síndri's caretaker put his hand on his shoulder as a child. The naked addict stung a mark in Síndri's back he'd forgotten about, a lesson of pain. The coat reminded him of the day he found this trench coat, feeling a wet cold in loneliness. And the crack in the pillar brought with it a fear of confinement, trapped in collapsing rubble.

"Please! Don't hurt me!" His own echoing voice shocked him, shaking him out of delirium and into instant regret. He couldn't even remember what he was just afraid of, what he was just remembering.

Two guards heard him from the opened lift, their attention drawn from the nearest body to the source of the sound. They pointed their weapons at the pillar to the right of the open aisle. They had come to investigate, a scene quite apparently splattered across the canvass of this connecting level, but now were presented with puzzling evidence of violence; of what kind and what spirit was still yet to be determined.

"Come out!" they shouted into the darkness. But the strangeness of the situation kept them stationary. The fear and innocence in Síndri's voice instilled an overconfidence in their circumstances, experiences leading up to this point all informing their judgement that this was just another addict gone feral for a fix they couldn't afford. They even assumed to blame the addicts in sight to have somehow got at each other over the other's something or other. But the uncertainty of this surviving voice behind the pillar kept them on guard. And their cruelty put their guns at the ready, willing to put down any number of dogs to keep an easy order in this unfair and disgusting world of their control.

"Um. No." Síndri didn't know what else to say. But what could they do from there besides shoot a thick pillar. From the open entrance of the lift, they stood in the most lit area of the aisle; their uniforms exact duplicates of each other, like the dumb expressions on their faces as they looked at each other unsure of how to proceed.

 

[Anz Laggo]

Anz had been fairly certain that they could have at least gotten the drop on the Gourami thugs as they passed through the hallway, but with Sindri's sudden outburst his stealth advantage was gone. His insane outburst caused two guards to snap toward his position, weapons drawn and searching for the source of the shout. The fact that Sindri chose to reply to their barking order didn't make the situation any better. As far as he could tell though, they hadn't noticed him, or at least they didn't consider the hunched little figure under the filthy cloak in the corner. Though just to be safe he held his carbine a little tighter and scooted back more into the corner. All he could do now was wait to see what move the Gourami gangsters made.

 

[Síndri Vaēsahd]

Síndri, standing over the spice-addict, thought of only one thing in the heat of the moment. He slipped his coat off and dropped it to his right. He gripped each lightsaber hilt in either hand. He replaced his feet, stepping behind the body and digging his toes under the body's hip. He bent over and got his wrists under the man's slimy armpits. He closed his eyes. And he took a deep breath.

A swell of mysterious energy gathered about Síndri and, almost with ease, he tossed the addict across the aisle.

The body dove out from behind cover, arms swung out and rag-dolled, and soared to the opposing pillar. The henchmen opened fire instantly, wildly tagging the body mid-air several times before it thudded to the ground and slid partially behind the pillar with an ugly sound. Only the addict's feet remained in sight, lifeless. And the henchmen's guns held out, smoke signaling the pause in their fire. Now their confused attention aimed left at the downed body, staring at those torn shoes.

The one guard checked his chin left, motioning the other guard to investigate by going around the back side of that pillar to the left of the aisle. But something seemed odd to him, so after a moment of hesitation he decided to go right and circle his side of the aisle.

Síndri scooped his coat up, each lightsaber hilt inside the shoulders of his coat, and hid behind it like some kind of invisibility tent; only his eyes peaking over. He crept around the right of the pillar and tiptoed toward the guard. But when the shadow cast from the lights behind the guard gave Síndri advanced warning on the floor, Síndri threw out his coat with the carried wind of the Force. The guard startled, reacted with a slew of shots through the sideways soaring coat when suddenly two red beams ignited crossways and scissored through his arm from his unguarded side. And he screamed.

The other guard had reached the addict's body behind the pillar by then, only to find a dead man when he would hear the sounds and the scream.

 

[Anz Laggo]

Anz had to admit the two false bodies were brilliant strategies, as they distracted the guards and forced them to waste ammunition targeting fakes. Still, he didn't have enough time to commend the strange Exile on his remarkably effective tactics as the two guards were moving closer to both of them, and odds were their cheap hiding places wouldn't shelter them for long. As Sindri took out what appeared to be the lead guard, Anz was left to take out his lackey as the thug approached the dead body and, by extension, his hiding spot. Once he drew within striking range, Anz shifted his carbine's barrel from his cloak and shot the guard in the neck, watching him drop to the floor with his neck in a sizzled heap. Stepping from the shadows, Anz moved over the smoldering corpse and nodded to Sindri.

"Well done, my boy. Well done, but stay cautious, there may be more on the way."

 

[The Storyteller]

“Don’t worry. They’re already here.”

The voice echoed from the opposite end of the lift and from a stairwell door. Out of its confines emerged none other than Devario Gourami and several armed and armored guards. Without a visor and helmet, like the rest of his security detail, the pair of Exiles could easily recognize the sinister smirk painted on his face. He had caught the two assailants red-handed, and now, their end was soon at hand.

Of course, why would have Devario himself gone to the lower floors? The answer was clear: impatience, bloodlust. As much as the young man enjoyed relishing in luxury, there was nothing more satisfying than the sweet taste of blood. When he received word of an intruder from the two guards he sent down, he couldn’t help but check the situation himself. After all, if this trespasser was undoubtedly another assassin sent by the Cartel, Devario knew two guards would hardly be enough.

To his own surprise, however, there was not one— but two intruders. And by how quickly and how easily they dispatched his guards, he knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Then again, Devario always did enjoy a challenge. So, holding his own carbine to his waist, he aimed his weapon to the pair of silhouettes, as did the other three sentries at his side. While he did, the main lift opened up, revealing several more guards.

They were surrounded. And death, looming above the two Exiles like a shadow, readied to scoop them up. Because as Devario’s weapon clicked, gunfire clamored throughout the room. If the two did nothing, they would be cut into ribbons within moments.

@Acedia

 

[Síndri Vaēsahd]

It took a moment for Síndri to realize what he had accomplished, puzzlingly piecing together the point of Anz' commendation while staring down at his defeated and squalling adversary when a new voice demanded attention. Síndri fearfully twisted around to the voice with sharp accuracy, raising his lightsabers crosswise. Eyes wide and already caught in headlights, the hairs on his neck prickled to the imminent danger surrounding them when the main lift revealed even more enemies behind; as Síndri excessively whipped back around to face them instead, finally resigning to a sideways stance with one saber in each direction and looking to the closest dangers at the lift opposite Devario. Were it not for Devario's unidentified ambiguity, Síndri might have thrown caution to the wind. But they wasted no time, preventing Síndri from learning the truth, and opened fire.

Síndri turned to face the group closest to him at the main lift, angling behind the pillar he was already next to and disappearing behind its cover. Devario and his group then were no longer in Síndri's sight, as he was no longer in theirs; though they may trust in their firepower to annihilate the pillar altogether. In that moment Síndri circled his crisscrossing sabers to deflect incoming fire as best he could, but took a grazing burn to the right thigh while mostly managing only to dot the floor between them with searing scores like a maniac artfully swatting at a swarm of fireflies. He crowed a shrill cry of pain and dropped to one left knee even as energy bolts whipped splashes of dust from the walls of the pillars around him and he rolled sideways to his left to an awkward angle for the group of gunmen. And he groaned a tearful whining through his swelling throat as he looked up to the sight of the group shuffling sideways nearer to get a clear shot. And in that instant covered in shadow, the callow kitten transformed into a cornered cougar.

With that second's pause, Síndri's emotion lashed out through a rushing blast of invisible energy; his left hand partially and crookedly stretching out as the gunmen were sideswiped like a tight herd of top-heavy penguins caught by a great gust. The men were too closely gathered around the corner, all of them turning next to the other, and were thusly toppled as a unit into and onto each other; tumbling sideways and back onto themselves.

Seemingly spent, and still behind cover of a row of pillars establishing the center aisle with Síndri at one end and Devario at the other, Síndri unstably scraped off the ground to an exhausted and wobbly one-step towards the leveled group and exclaimed, "Where's that dog Devario!"

@Anz Laggo @Deviant​

 

[Anz Laggo]

His brief bout of admiration for Sindri died when the next lift of guard arrived, this time a larger party than the original. As Sindri flailed at the incoming bolts like a deranged maniac Anz threw himself against a nearby dumpster as a crude form of cover as blaster fire, both directed and reflected, slammed into his makeshift cover. It was chaos, a wild flashing cacophony of buzzing blades and flying bolts that ended in Sindri being wounded and limping off behind a pillar. With his associate seemingly down, Anz poked his head out of cover and prepared to fire on the guards. That is, until Sindri reappeared and sent the men flying onto their backs, limping forward and barking questions at them. Anz kept his weapon raised just in case any of the thugs decided to try attacking them.

 

[The Storyteller]

Lightsabers. Red lightsabers. While ordinary criminals or gangsters would have ran at the very sight of one, Devario was no ordinary criminal. In fact, once he recognized its distant glow, the only thought that echoed in his mind was: Ka-ching! With lightsabers going out for massive bounties, the young man just knew he had to get his hands on it. So, as the rest of his men fired onto the pair, Devario moved to the other side of the room in an attempt to flank the Exile and get a shot on him. Of course, to no avail.

The other man unleashed a wave of the Force, throwing back the guards from the lift onto their asses. With them out of the picture, the numbers were nearly evened now. However, Devario recognized the Dark Jedi would by now be drained from the slew of attacks and defensive moves, leaving them open for a kill. So, as they moved behind their own respective pillars for cover, Devario subtly primed a grenade in his hand and smirked. “He’s right here!”

Once the words slipped from his mouth, he tossed the grenade over to the other side of the room, where it would smack into the pillar and explode on impact. The blow would not only throw the Exile back, but perhaps knock out or even kill them. Meanwhile, Devario’s other guards would move in toward the dumpster, knowing that the Exile’s partner in crime was no cornered and surrounded.

This would be the end for them— or, again, so Devario thought.

@Acedia @The Captain

 

[Síndri Vaēsahd]

Síndri's spine straightened solid, ears perked to the voice's confession. Then the sphere clinked two bouncing clanks in the silence, rolling behind Síndri's right from behind the pillar. It rolled right in-between the guard's legs whose arm Síndri had severed, finding the crotch-corner pocket as it were as he had just finally begun to sit up with arm-stump in cradle. And he whimpered, "Oh..."

The grenade boomed there on the floor, obliterating the guard's moderately armored body and almost the entire adjacent obstructing pillar as the blast threw Síndri sideways in a cloud of concrete dust. Síndri flew left, right arm wheeled high, and slammed back into shoddy plaster; wrecking a fractured cavity through the wall nearest the main lift.

Síndri awoke to a ringing, feet high in a sideways seated position on top of rubble in the crawl space of the wall. No lightsabers within reach as his hands closed and opened, all he could see was a wall of white powder sinking through the air; though it did not fill the entire space that Anz and the others occupied on the opposite side. A solid hunk of that poor guard's body sat right on Síndri's chest, a clownish white and red coloring Síndri's made-up face as he searched for answers. And he remembered, Devario was there. Then his body remembered the pain it was in as several stinging surges of heat shot up Síndri's body parts and he ground his teeth with a frail and boyish grunt.

Should Devario come looking for Síndri, he might walk face first into the wall before seeing Síndri through the thick cloud if he didn't first trip over one of the many obstructions now littering the ground; two of which were Síndri's lightsabers, the hazardous terrain giving pause as it reminded those nearby of its cosmetic fragility with crumbling chunks of wall falling from more durable framework.

@The Captain @Deviant​

 

[Anz Laggo]

Anz barely had time to process that it was Devario himself that threw the explosive down the hallway, all he could do was duck back into his corner, throwing his cloak up over himself to protect himself from the resulting rain of debris and licking flames. Sindri was sent flying by the blast, Anz lost him in the smoke and confusion, but he had found something new. Devario was here alongside his men, and apparently better armed personally than Anz might have predicted given his use of explosives. He didn't have much time to contemplate that, however, as several guards were recovering and moving in on him. Raising his carbine and pressing himself as closely to his corner defense as he could, Anz fired into the oncoming crowd in the hopes of warding them off.

 

[The Storyteller]

The explosion ripped throughout the room. Shrapnel shot forth in all directions, dust and soot seeped into every corner. Devario smirked proudly, knowing his grenade had struck true. Glancing over to the silhouette of the pillar, now left with a giant hole on where the Exile once was, he marched over to get his prize: the lightsabers. Through the ash, he looked to the floor and noticed blood. The Dark Jedi’s, no doubt. Again, the young man grinned. Now, he just couldn’t wait to get his hands on that bounty.

However, as the dust continued to clear, he noticed something else. A strange figure slumped on the ground with what looked to be blood trailing from it. Instantly, he aimed his weapon, recognizing the potential that the Exile could have survived. “Them and their damned magic,” Devario murmured to himself before speaking up louder. “Is that you, Exile? Come on, let me help you.” His finger twitched along the trigger. A quick death, which was more than they deserved.

Meanwhile, the remnants of his guards would have already cornered the other man. However, their attack would be set back by the roar of gunfire. The Exile’s companion seemed to be in pristine condition, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t leave this room in one piece. While they took out several guards, the pair that remained only fired back, this time with matchless precision, given they knew their exact location now. They, like the Exile on the other side of the room, would be dead in moments.

@Acedia

 

[Síndri Vaēsahd]

Hearing blaster bolts in a crossfire off in the distance, Síndri's spacial awareness regained some form. A soft voice as something murmured in the quiet. Síndri's itchy eyes shifted curiously. Dusty haze everywhere. Rubble crumbled from the wall just behind Devario's left then. The grenade had done it's job too well. Síndri heard his voice, this time calling out to him directly. And Síndri's eyes sharpened with hate. Sideways in the wall, Síndri started to make out a shape coming closer. At first he felt his heartbeat rise with imminent danger approaching, but then he noticed something was off about the shadow. It wasn't facing Síndri.

More rubble crumbled off the demolished remnants of the pillar. Síndri realized it was Devario, right there. The dog's arm was held out, blaster in hand; he could almost see it now. But what was he aiming at, Síndri wondered. It was a third of the unfortunate guard's body. The fool, Síndri cursed. Then only one thought sprang to mind: get Devario.

Now a quickened breath had been tamed to short silent ones, Síndri searching his surroundings to eyeball different distances; like the distance for his foot to reach the floor. He hugged the hunk of torso that lay on his chest and calmly rolled out of the wall sideways, reaching his toe to the floor and wincing through a creeping crouch. With the noise of the blaster fire and the different parts of the walls crumbling in different areas, he felt completely hidden to Devario's notice for as long as he needed. And without wasting any more time, Síndri tossed the hunk of carcass behind Devario to land just to his left.

If Devario looked toward the sound to his left, Síndri would have the drop on him coming from his right. And Síndri would dive onto Devario's back, right hand aimed for Devario's arm to keep him from aiming the weapon and left hand aimed for the back of Devario's head to smash his face into the ground with a grounding pound or two to put him in a daze.

Síndri didn't aim to kill the dog yet, though. If his impromptu tackling dive did its job, his body on top of Devario's with a successful head bash or two, then Síndri would face the music. This visit to the slums hadn't gone the way he'd hoped. He was hurt, not badly but just enough to urge his fear into the driver's seat. If he could show these guards that he had their mad dog in his maniacal hands, then he could inspire them to back off. Síndri's survival relied on Devario's, as well as Anz'. So, if all went to plan, Síndri would angle Devario's own gun in on him and hold him as a human shield. He'd call out to the gang members and demand their attention away from Anz. "Hey! Hey! He's mine! See? Hold you fire! Try anything and he's dead."

@The Captain @Deviant​

 

[Anz Laggo]

Try as he might, there were simply too many guards to shoot at once, and two members of Devario's escort survived his initial volley unscathed, and were now firing on him. There was only one way out of this situation, and he knew he wasn't going to enjoy it. Pulling his cloak tighter around his chest, he leaned out from cover slightly and was struck squarely in the chest by a blaster bolt, one that knocked the air from his lungs and caused him to slam back into the wall. It stung, sorely, but hopefully the guards had not seen his armor and would think they had shot him dead. In either case, it seemed Sindri was causing a distraction of his own, and with it Anz could let a hand slip to his pistol, shifting it subtly so he could roll over and fire on the thugs if they were distracted.

 

[The Storyteller]

Devario’s weapon remained directed toward the strange figure. Slowly, he made his way toward the slumped silhouette, ready to shred it apart. However, before he could pop a few shots to ensure their death, he heard something barely within earshot. Muffled movement, the clatter of armor. Instantly, the man turned around to face it and loosed several bolts, shredding the source of the noise apart. Before he could realize that the sound was just a distraction, it was too late.

He fell onto the ground, the weapon in his hand firing aimlessly about as it smacked the floor. His other open hand reached down for a knife and he squirmed around to throw the attacker off him. Still, it was for naught. Feeling several fingers tighten onto his hair, his face was smashed into the floor. Mind rattled in his skull and tasting the blood in his mouth, Devario grunted in his stupor. “Wha…” He murmured, lost in thought. By then, the leftover guards quickly turned their attention away from the second man, realizing their boss was now balls deep in trouble.

“Whoa, whoa, hey now.” One particularly massive guard piped up, gun aimed toward the Exile. “How about you drop him, or you’re dead.” The man’s eyes narrowed. While he was a good shot, there was no telling if this Exile was just bluffing. He only hoped the threat alone would scare the Dark Jedi off. Well, he hoped. Meanwhile, Devario would start to come out from his daze, fingers clasping around his knife and preparing to plunge it deep into the attacker's thigh.

@Acedia

 

[Síndri Vaēsahd]

Síndri hadn't thought this through. There were too many of them. Greasy sweat slicked his dusty skin as he flicked his stringing hair from his face with a jerk of the neck. He was scared, and angry. Holding the trigger in Devario's right hand with his own, resting the mouth of the carbine on Devario's collar pressing at the neck and chin, and gripping a knot of hair at the back of Devario's head with his left fist, Síndri childishly felt the mood for some instant payback and yanked Devario's hair back with a tight left knee to crotch.

Then, over Devario's chest, Síndri caught the shimmer of one of his lightsabers on the ground to his left. He also caught the shine of something else in Devario's left hand, wagging about and even possibly in readying draw to stab backwards if not for the awkward angle; especially now after taking the knee, if not dropping it from the pain. Síndri relied more on the gang's fear, the fear that if they shot Síndri then he'd kill their boss. Even if one of them felt they had a clear shot of some body part or another, it wouldn't stop Síndri from squeezing that trigger and spraying Devario's brains into the ceiling. And each of them knew that fear, thanks to Devario's older brother. No reckless shooting here, unless they wanted to feel the fire.

"Back off, or he dies. You're killing him! The longer you stall the more he suffers." Síndri wasn't exactly sturdy himself. Nor was he practiced at hostage takeovers, lacking any real direction giving other than general orders. But he couldn't think straight. He felt so helpless, all he could do was thrash in the shallow waters of his fate. So he kneed Devario again, left knee to the right pocket of Devario's nethers with a tug of hair; using his biceps, elbows, and chest to cradle Devario there as he shuffled.

"Old man! You there?" He called to his alien ally, unsure if he was even still alive. Síndri needed help from Anz now more than ever. If Devario broke free, all hell would break loose. But if the grunts could be herded away, Síndri could handle the little slime in his grasp.

@Deviant @The Captain​