Isobel Brandt \\ Persephone (praxidike) wrote in thegalaxy, @ 2016-07-03 16:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | !locale: space, !locale: the finalizer, general hux, issan ren, kylo ren |
a thousand armies couldn't keep me out
Who: Issan/Abeloth, Hux, & a brief appearance from Kylo Ren.
What: Abeloth attacks the Finalizer, looking for information about Dee's whereabouts.
When: Following this narrative, and this thread.
Where: The Finalizer.
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
"All sensors are clear, sir," a straight-backed administrator read aloud to the general pacing back and forth in the control room. The Finalizer had a number of ships landing and departing from its port as it crawled through space. For the moment, everything seemed peaceful as black uniformed workers smartly clicked away at their docking stations, keeping attentive focus on the myriad systems throughout the massive star destroyer.
Suddenly, the ship seemed the lurch to the side as a tremor worked through its middle; people were thrown from their stations while others grabbed at whatever came to hand to keep their places. Alarms screamed, emergency lights casting a red glow over everyone in the room. Another tremor came through, and the sound of metal on metal accompanied the movement.
"No sign of another vessel, sir," one of the workers announced, scanning a chart. "Whatever it is, it's coming from within the Finalizer!"
"Troopers deployed to the docking platform, sir," another added, and screens were brought up to show the activity therein. The scene was not immediately clear: smoke filled the room, scattered blaster fire making red pinpricks in the swelling clouds. Suddenly, the crimson streaks froze in place, and then reversed, striking their source. Soldiers screamed as they were struck down.
A shadowy form appeared in the smoke, moving incrementally. The sound of a lightsaber being activated sounded through the static the view screen's sound system offered, and two red slashes arced out from behind the figure.
"We have an intruder on board, sir! Orders?"
General Hux studied the screen, utterly impassive, his face an unreadable blank. He knew the ominous portent of those red streaks well enough. He knew, too, he could throw any number of stormtroopers at the problem, and like as not it would accomplish little more than to buy a bit of time. "Mobilize a contingent of SF officers," he said. "Lethal force is authorized. Live capture only as a last resort." He turned, looking to the last officer to have spoken. She exhibited a calm he knew she would soon require, if even that would save her.
"And tell Kylo Ren one of his dogs has slipped its leash," he said. "Again," he added, in a dark growl of a whisper too low for the already departing officer to hear.
On the screen, the smoke cleared enough to reveal that the figure was female, dressed in dark black robes with a hood obscuring her features. The double-bladed saber in her hand spun, knocking back more blaster fire before she launched herself into the crowd of white-clad stormtroopers, cutting them down as though they were nothing. A handful of stormtroopers went flying, and as more smoke cleared, the cause of the earlier tremors revealed itself: ships had been thrown into the sides of the docking bay, and metal was bent where it was clear the figure had been unable to clear a simple path. The amount of damage wrecked in that one small area of the ship would take millions to even begin rectifying, not to mention the damaged and potentially useless TIE fighters.
The figure moved off the screen.
"Trying to get it back, sir!" The view screen flicked through several cameras as the administrator struggled to find where the figure had disappeared to. A few flickers more and the correct cameras came online, displaying a scene of naked carnage.
One of the TIE/sf ships had exploded. The edges of the blast were marked by bloody shrapnel and debris. Dismembered corpses still in stormtrooper white littered the black alloy ground. Special Forces officers in their customary black stalked the floor, the bulk of their number fanning out and disappearing into the smoke-choked shadows.
One approached the interloper, blaster rifle abandoned in favor of a long tactical blade. How he had drawn the short straw he could not now recall; as his ill luck would have it, he would not have long to contemplate such things. He advanced on the cloaked figure, his blade held angled against his forearm, ready to parry or strike as required. He saw two of his cohort drawing in close behind her, one with mag-cuffs at the ready. Emboldened, he lunged forward.
The female skipped back, the hand around the staff twirling the weapon with an ease born of long practice and experience. The sound was muted on the view screen, but the red flashed out and around the figure, cutting into the soldier's space, eventually taking the hand holding the blade with one smooth, easy flash. He pressed forward once more, shaken but determined. Back in the control room, Hux almost smiled.
The two soldiers behind the figure pressed forward as well. Black vibroblades flashed out like lightning in negative. One aimed for her throat, the other for her legs; they moved in concert, with a certainty borne of years of fighting together.
Despite the seemingly overwhelming odds, the female retained her composure. She spun to the soldiers advancing behind her, her free hand lifting the man aiming for her legs from his feet and snapping his neck mid-air. His body was sent crashing into the second, knocking them both against a far wall. The man holding the mag-cuffs was next in line, the cuffs flying from his hands to wrap around his neck, choking him tightly.
Hux's wavering smile disappeared utterly. "Where is Kylo Ren?" he snapped. Behind him several comms officers jumped to attention, fingers flying over keys as they sought the Master of the Knights of Ren. Down on the hangar floor, another SF officer had stepped forward. Her face showed the grim determination of one facing her death. She raised a rifle to her shoulder and began firing, advancing to her inevitable end.
The figure grabbed the advancing soldier with a Force choke, pulling her up off her feet and slowly toward herself. The woman struggled mid-air as the cloaked figure seemed to consider something. After a beat, the figure's hand jerked, snapping the soldier's neck like her comrade's. Her limp form dropped to the floor to join the rest of her troop. The figure suddenly reached out mid-air directly toward the camera, crushing the lens. The view screen went dead, black and white noise filling the space where the image had been.
Fingers sped over keys as those in the room struggled to regain a visual on the intruder. An administrator suddenly went very pale at his screen, opening and closing his mouth as he tried to say something.
Hux said nothing; the arch of his brow and the hard, rapidly thinning line of his lips communicated all that was required. The administrator's discomfort only grew beneath the general's scrutiny. Hux moved to the console himself, peering down into the muted colors of the screen.
The information therein showed a number of reports, all varying in tone but consistent in information. The intruder was headed directly for the main hub of the ship, the very control room they were standing in.
"Should we not call for more soldiers, sir? Or evacuate?" The man's voice warbled, barely able to contain his fear after what he'd seen on the view screen.
The general's gaze flickered from his frightened charge's screen to those around him. Their options were rapidly dwindling, and even those that remained to them would likely not be enough. But no shadow of emotion crossed his face as he straightened up and began to bark out his orders. Special Forces and a flood of Stormtroopers hastened to respond to the call; blast doors were shut tight and sealed the minute they poured through, thick as swarming ants. The doors would hold against explosions, against the ravenous vacuum of space: Whether they would be enough for what came for them was a less certain thing.
"Find Kylo Ren," he said. His hand tightly gripped the back of the admin's seat. "Go through ductwork if you must. Find him, or you'll be first to meet her when she arrives."
The man launched himself from his chair, his headset flying off and hitting the floor. He pulled a specially designed holoreader from his belt and started speaking into it as he headed for a far exit, trying to discern the best course of action for his new orders.
As he was doing so, the sound of shrieks and more metal bending came from the hallway directly outside the control center. The man dropped his holoreader and instead turned to a wall, fingers prying out a covering that separated the room from a duct panel that provided the room's oxygen atmosphere.
Heads turned in the direction of the blast doors, bodies rising from their seats as they glanced at one another for directions or support.
Hux's voice rose. "Hold your positions," he commanded. He drew his sidearm and fired a single shot into the wayward administrator's back. As the young man's body fell, Hux leveled a shot at his head. As blood and bone painted the silver wall behind the corpse, Hux turned to face his men.
"She is one Knight against the best the First Order has to offer," he said. "Unlike you she is alone, unaided by her comrades. Work together, face her down, and you will see her executed for her treason. We will not be cowed by Force users, even those who claim to be our allies."
The sound at the door came sharper, more demanding. Hux turned to face it, blaster in hand, shoulders squared against whatever approached.
Slowly, the sounds of blaster fire and screams of the dying faded. The attention of all in the control room was fixed on the door. The silence that came next was excruciating, and, though bolstered by their leader's words, the First Order staffers glanced at one another as they struggled to remain steadfast.
The tip of a red laser pushed through the blast doors; it hovered in place for a moment, before beginning to cut a large, rectangular door. It did so slowly and carefully, as though it had all the time in the world to complete its task. Staffers moved away from their consoles, feeling less than loyal at this sudden and unexpected attack from one of their own. If this one Knight was to be distrusted, it did not bode well for the others.
A slim line of smoke followed the saber's cut through the door; it went from top to bottom, and then extracted itself as the outline of the entryway it was creating was completed. Everyone held their breath as they waited to see what would happen next; those that were closest to the doorway were the first to fall as the large, metal sheet was propelled backward and into a line of consoles, crushing workers beneath its weight. Rather than wait for more encouraging words from their general, a majority of the staffers ran to the far end of the room, out and away from the destruction that seemed imminent.
The female entered the room with her head bowed; her hood covered her face, but it was clear she was focused on a singular task. Even though she paused at the front of the room, unperturbed by the shrieks of those dying underneath her makeshift door, it was clear that she was looking. As she came to a stop, she looked specifically toward General Hux.
"You've been very rude to keep me waiting, General," her voice rang out, a hand rising to pluck him from the ground with her Force abilities, an invisible force wrapping unseen hands around his neck. His feet kicked futilely at the ground. So many soldiers he had watched die in precisely this way. It was infuriating to think he would become next in their number.
This anger kindled brightly in his eyes, tightening his grip as his hands wrapped uselessly around his own throat. There was nothing to grip, nothing to pull away, and yet still animal instinct demanded its due. More soldiers fled the room, stoking the flames of his rage all the higher. If he survived this, there would be hell to pay.
A small contingent of SF officers had stood their ground. They moved quickly, magnetic cuffs and vibroblades extended, aiming for nothing but to buy their commander time.
The female seemed to glance back, though the hood blocked her view. She sighed.
"A waste," she commented, as she sent a huge Force wave back through the soldiers, knocking them over like dominoes. Weapons clattering to the floor as bodies caved into one another, some hitting walls while others were smashed directly into the ground. None rose from where they had landed. The female looked back to Hux, a hand lifting to sweep back her hood. Issan Ren and Hux had known each other only in passing, but any visual the general might have retained of the dark jedi was nigh unrecognizable compared to the woman who stood before him. Red veins cracked the skin around her eyes, wrinkles setting deep into what used to be a young visage. When she smiled, her teeth were reddened as though she'd been eating raw meat.
"Now, where were we? Ah, yes. I want to know what you did with my sister." The hand in the air holding the general aloft squeezed, tightening the grip around his throat.
Hux gasped for breath that would not come. Words failed him, but though he could scarcely place her, he knew her ilk well enough. He felt her presence in his mind already, probing without his consent, slithering through his thoughts as if by instinct rather than conscious will.
Confusion reigned supreme; at first his mind conjured up images of the Knights of Ren, the only remnants of the presumed extinct Force users he had ever known. Frustration came second. In General Hux's experience, Kylo Ren was always where he was least wanted, when he was least wanted. Now, when Hux most needed him, he was nowhere to be found. Even Captain Phasma, his ever-present solace, seemed to have abandoned him. Pain lanced through his eye as a blood vessel burst: whether by Issan's doing or because of his own rising anger, he could not be sure.
"Who?" he ground out.
Issan gave a dramatic sigh, loosening her grip. "The one you took from me, Dee. A priestess? I believe she was taken by the one you call Kylo Ren. I want to know where she is -- and I hope, for your sake, that she remains unharmed." One finger extended, cutting downward; a red mark opened on his face in the same direction.
Hux heard the gritting of his teeth in his own head. He cut his tongue between them, and tasted blood. Her phrasing caught him off guard; belatedly he realized how she had referred to her own master. Hux swallowed hard around the bruised lump within his throat. Whatever Issan Ren had been before, she was no longer a known quantity. Fear rose within him. Again he banished it beneath anger and pain. He gasped for breath while it was allowed to him.
"I took no-one," he said. "If your master took him... ask him."
"But certainly you know what he does," Issan replied, canting her head like a bird. "Or does the right hand know not what the left does? No wonder my inimioară had so little respect for you and your ilk. She never much cared for disorganization."
Her finger extended, pointing straight out, before drawing a matching line on his other cheek. He hissed in pain, but did not give his captor the satisfaction of an audible cry.
"If you won't tell me willingly, there are other ways." Without further ado, Issan reached forward into the general's mind, peeling it open like a hardboiled egg.
This time, Hux screamed. Memories were carved away, lifted from his psyche with agonizing force. His eyes rolled back, bloodshot whites shining in the stark light of the control room. Among the bloody ruin of images, somewhere between the ever-present thoughts of Phasma and the all-consuming specter of the First Order and his place within it, there was a picture of a woman, dark-skinned and black-robed, her hair a wild nimbus of blood-matted curls.
It was not the Finalizer's pristine walls that surrounded her. The hard lines and severe colors of the First Order -- and its dead father, the Empire -- marked the place of her captivity, but there was an aged quality to it the star destroyer lacked. A prison colony, built by the Empire and brought into the modern era by the new guard, housed the fallen priestess. Kylo Ren's face was a constant presence in his head, tangled up with every fleeting image of the refugee Delilah.
"Not here. That's disappointing. All this wasted effort." Issan pouted, a strange look for her strange new face. The tendrils of her mind pulled back from his, though they did nothing to sew back together the damage they had wrought. Hux's mind was left bare to the elements. "I suppose you have been somewhat useful. Perhaps a quick death? But that's never been much fun." She tightened her grip on his throat, slowly eliminating the flow of oxygen to his brain. As she did so, she felt another presence make itself known. It was heading in her direction.
"Oh, someone else has come to play." Issan turned toward the doorway, looking out curiously as though she'd be able to spot the interloper before they truly appeared. "I wouldn't want our time to end before it's due, though." She glanced back to the door that she'd cut out of the blast door and lifted it off of the snarl of bodies it had originally crushed. Limbs and blood stuck to it for a few meters as it rose into the air, but a simple shake freed it of its moorings. Issan moved it back into place, though it didn't stay in its new position for long; it shuddered as the force of another was applied to it.
Issan grinned, looking back to Hux. "Do you think he'll make it through the door in time?"
Hux did not think much at all. Pain and the memory of it were all that seemed left to him. He lolled in her grip, a puppet slack on fraying strings. His only thoughts were of his absent captain and the approaching force he could call neither friend nor foe. Some part of him longed for the nothingness she had almost given him, the black maw of unconsciousness that had come so close only to be snatched away. His mind was raw, flayed in ways he had not thought possible. His unseeing gaze rolled toward the door, watching the push and pull of forces he could not engage. Anger coiled somewhere within him, too deep to be drawn upon, too weak to be of use.
The door burst again from its moorings, this time hurtling far enough to strike the far wall with a resounding thoomp. The next moment saw Kylo Ren striding through the open space created. He said nothing, instead raising a hand to pull Hux from Issan's grasp. Whether she let the general go or the Master of the Knights of Ren was able to overcome her was unclear; she dropped her arm to her side, pouting once more.
"Not even going to try to play nice, hm? That's disappointing." She slashed out at him, but Kylo brought up his free hand, slamming her backward and into a wall. It was clear who held the supreme power in the situation.
Kylo carefully put Hux on the floor to the far side of where the fight was taking place, moving back to Issan as she scrambled to her feet. She hissed in his direction, hands raising to defend herself. Kylo attempted to apply a Force freeze, but Issan laughed as she slashed invisibly at his robes, striking through the cloth to the flesh underneath. A small sound of hurt emanated from his mask, but Kylo pushed on, shoving Issan back again. She slid a little on her feet, acclimating to his abilities, and reached for her lightsaber. It snarled to life, casting a red glow over her figure. Kylo reached for his own weapon, the saber elongating.
The two met in the middle of the room, hard slashes and hacks crashing down between the two of them. Admins who were still alive to witness the scene were pressed back against the wall hard enough to make themselves part of the ship's machinery, flinching each time sparks flew as the sabers clashed. After a time, it was clear neither was making any headway, and Issan took a step back into a defensive posture.
"I can recognize an exercise in futility," she commented, straightening. It was clear that Kylo wasn't about to let her go so easily, and he started forward to press his attack. Issan distracted him for a moment by sending the bodies of three former First Order officers flying in his direction, and then quickly put her lightsaber into the floor at her feet. She cut a trim hole small enough for herself to fit into, and suddenly fell through the ground, disappearing completely.
Kylo deactivated his saber, looking to the admins and then a splurge of soldiers that ran through the doorway that he'd come through.
"Get medical. Now." He pointed to the hole that Issan had disappeared to, implying the next orders for the troopers. "I want all levels underneath this locked down, especially any that lead to the docking bay. No ships are to leave."
They moved with astonishing speed; each trooper and officer nearly tripped over one another, hastening to prove their worth in the wake of their absence -- or worse, their fleeing. With Issan gone their terror began to lessen, or at least to withdraw enough for them to act once more. Special Forces took the lead, each of them breaking away to escort small teams of troopers deeper into the ship. One administrator returned with a medical droid and human combat medic in tow. Both sentients were loaded down with first aid gear; as they unpacked their wares, the droid hovered over the fallen general, poking and prodding at him as it ran tests innumerable.
Hux rolled over onto his side. His hand pressed flat to the cold metal floor. He pushed himself up to sit, ignoring entirely the protestations of his team. He looked to Kylo, a question in his blood-rimmed eyes. "She's after your prisoner," he said. His pupils were blown, his voice a shattered rasp. "And she's no Knight now. I don't know what she is."
"She's a Nightsister, though her strength and abilities are far greater than I expected." He put his saber back into its sheath on his belt, casually observing the officers at their work. "We can expect an attack on the prison base. Do we have men available to deploy there?"
Light sheared through Hux's brain. He squeezed his eyes shut tight but still it pierced through him. Find Phasma was his only thought, repeated over and over again, bleeding into Kylo's hearing whether he wanted it or not. Hux did not sense this slip. "Some," he said. "Few." Every word, every thought, was a knife through his temples. "A small platoon already stationed there. And three SF officers." He gritted his teeth and glared toward the small, milling crowd. "Mind the cowards and traitors." There'll be executions when I can see to them.
Kylo made no comment toward Hux's comment, though he did pull aside an officer and instructed them to find the captain. Then he looked at the milling crowd. "If you aren't completing a task I've already laid out, I suggest you find work in repairing the control room, or seeing to the docking bay immediately. Anyone found with no work will report to me for an assignment." Those two sentences made quick work of the rubberneckers, propelling them to find some reason for their presence. Soon, workers were making sense of the chaos that Issan had wrought aboard the star destroyer.
"We will need more men, or to shore up defenses. Captain Phasma can see to it, while you are recuperating." With that, he instructed the medical officers to remove Hux to his quarters; he wasn't doing anyone any good bleeding on the floor.