Ghosts in the Machine

[Celeste Starborn]

With a tap of her stylus, Celeste Starborn magnified a square-off section of the hologram floating in front of her. What had been the image of a blue planet moments ago, lacking any details save for the faint contour of mountains, suddenly gained relief.

“The Bothans have assets here and here,” she said, with another two stabs of the stylus that brought to life pin-points of light on the terrain. To look at it, Nelvaan did not appear to have much in the way of assets to offer, but as he observed the semi-transparent image Dashiel Starborn kept his doubts to himself. As though sensing his scepticism, the Councellor for Alderaan – his aunt – looked up sharply.

“Reports from the secondary facility indicate a marked decrease in productivity... for the first time in decades. There have been casualties, which are being blamed officially on technical malfunctions,” the Councellor added, her piercing stare flicking to the young woman beside her nephew and back to Dash. The Director of Intelligence's choice of agents to survey the situation couldn't have been unintentional.

“The two of you have clearance to travel to Nelvaan and investigate. We've been advised that adverse weather conditions are hampering communications with both siphoning facilities, but your quartermaster should provide you with the necessities to see that you get the job done. Dismissed.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Well that was a new one... in all her experience within the Alliance she had never been called into the office of any of the Advisory Council. And to have it be the representative of Alderaan at that was even more mind boggling. Leeadra Longstar she could have understood, but Celeste Starborn?

As she was still attempting to piece together the whys, she glanced over at her partner for the mission and the "oh... right." came to mind rather quickly.

"You know, Dashy... they keep partnering us up like this and either I'm going to nominate you for being an unofficial member of Dorn, or you're going to have to secure me the same honor with Intel." A small smile crossed her features and she let out a small laugh. "Either that, or I'm going to have to ask Glayde if he keeps letting me go on these errand runs just to keep me out of his hair."

[Dashiel Starborn]

“It's getting to be more than a coincidence, huh..”

Dash glanced up and down the length of the corridor outside of Celeste's office, then down at the file in his hands. It was the first time he'd been called before his aunt, in any official capacity, and the experience had left him feeling decidedly bemused. Traditionally, orders were passed by from the Director of Intelligence, through her sub-Directors, to the field agents – but that wasn't to say that Alliance Command couldn't interfere whenever they saw fit. If the rumours he'd heard were true, Grace and Celeste had butted heads on more than one occasion. For her to pull rank would have been petty, but there was no telling what kind of politics were at play. Best to just do the job and stay out of the complex stuff.

“At least we won't be jumping out of any drop ships this time,” he said, as he flipped open the file and began to leaf idly through its pages as they walked. “Glaciers, ice, more glaciers... looks like Nelvaan is one big blue ball of zilch. Unless you need to siphon a metric frak-ton of water, in which case it's gonna be first on the go-to list.”

It seemed odd to think that the Bothan's were investing technology and man-power into what amounted to melting a whole lot of ice. Then again, the Rebel fleet needed to get its water supplies from somewhere. Dash glanced up, just long enough to make sure he wasn't going to crash into someone walking in the opposite direction – and to see Charlotte. They hadn't seen a whole lot of each other since the Life Day party on Yavin 4...

“Guess we better pick up some snow-boots and ear muffs for this one.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Yeah, well... at this point an ice ball sounds far preferable from waiting on another mission while attempting to avoid Captain Redhead, my brother, and pretty much everyone else on that damn ship." Despite the rather offhanded way she tossed the sentiment out, there was an underlying seriousness to it. Only a few days had passed since she had learned of the death of her former squad and had caused a rather large uproar. Those that had witnessed it all she didn't want to deal with, and those that hadn't probably had questions she didn't want to answer.

Another sidelong glance was cast at Dashiel, part of her wondering if Intel had even caught word of the little drama within Dorn Force that had been caused by her. Nah... they must not have. Though Blue Sauce and Charles shared their own little secret and that alone was going to make this whole thing a tad more interesting than any of their previous excursions. Despite the slightly awkward silence that fell between them she forced a small laugh.

"So how big of a shitstorm you think we're walking in to this time?"

[Dashiel Starborn]

The dossier on Nelvaan wasn't exactly thick, so it was difficult to say. Sure, they had a lot of technical info and schematics on the Bothan's siphoning plants, but all of that could have been pulled from planning records. It told them a whole lot of nothing about their actual mission objective, which in itself seemed nebulous at best.

“Maybe the cold has just finally got to the machinery,” Dash ventured, not believing the words even as they came out. “You think it would be expecting too much finesse and subtley of the Imps to think that they'd sent a sabotage team in?” he added, looking sidelong at Tur'enne who in turn seemed to be fixedly looking ahead and away from him.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"The way I see it, they've got to be expecting something more than a leaky pipe somewhere if they're sending us. Not sure why we aren't getting the big picture, though."

A slightly frustrated sigh left her as she stole another glance at Dashiel. "Thinking we should go in as subtle as we can. If something's decided to hole up in the plants we could be in for a nasty surprise."

She couldn't help but laugh again slightly before taking a step towards Starborn and gently bumped into him, her shoulder lightly colliding with his own. Something had to be done to end the damn tension between them or the entire mission was going to be miserable as hell.

"Of course, they could just be sending us in to a trap knowingly and hoping to off the both of us trouble makers."

[Dashiel Starborn]

The nudge, whether unintentional or otherwise, triggered a smile from Dash who returned it with a light elbow to Charlotte's side. “Another case of Chuckles and 'sauce against the world,” he grinned, flashing an ident-card as they passed from the hallway into a guarded room, where a series of equipment lockers lined the walls. As he slid the mission brief on top of one of the metal cabinets and swung open the door to examine its contents, he threw a lingering look over his shoulder at Tur'enne.

“You want some all weather gear? I can pretend like we forgot to pack it, if you were hoping to exploit the cold to get all cosy with me again.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Her eyes rolled at his choice of nickname for her. One of these days she swore she'd hit the boy after he called her that, just to get the point across. The pushed the thought aside as she began casually looking through the equipment lockers herself.

"Only if you ditch the gear in place for a drukload of rum." She didn't look over at him as she said it, but the sly smirk came anyway... even if it was somewhat forced.

Opening one of the lockers revealed an array of blasters of various types. She toyingly let her hand run along one of the E-17d rifles that were propped up inside. Sure it wasn't her's, but she couldn't help but want to take it along, like an old friend. Though Charles let a small pout come to her as she realized most, if any fighting, would be done in close quarters. Damn. A DH-17 Carbine and pistol of the same model were chosen instead. The rest of the weaponry she'd stock up on would come from her own gear.

"Though probably best if we don't try this whole thing completely plastered."

[Dashiel Starborn]

One of the weapons lockers yielded a couple of DC-15s side arm blasters. Dash picked one out and looked along its sight, testing the weight of the pistol. It was beaten up, but from the looks of the power cell the self-recharge feature was still working. He picked out a trusty DL-44 for good measure too and spun the pistol once around the end of his finger before shoving it into his belt.

“Save the fireworks for the after-party?”

Drifting from locker to locker, Dash tried to compile a mental check-list of what they'd need. He shoved a couple of choice pieces into a holdall – a variety of sensors and a grab-bag of grenades – but it was almost all guesswork. He tried to think ten steps ahead, the way his superiors would have wanted him to, but it wasn't easy. Especially not when around step four and a half his mind wandered into not entirely appropriate territory involving Tur'enne, himself and the cramped quarters of a standard Alliance shuttle.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charles couldn't help but smirk at the way Dash handled the DL-44. It was the kind of thing she hadn't seen done in ages and she didn't know whether to shake her head or be glad for the subtle things that constantly reminded her just how different Starborn was from just about everyone else she dealt with.

His comment, however, had a small blush rising in her cheeks again, at least when sober she could better control it. "If you're still in one piece I'll put it on my list of things to consider."

A quick check over of the things that had been stocked up on in the holdall and she looked back over at her partner for this particular little bout of fun. "Well, unless we're planning on stuffing a mechanic in here in case the machinery actually has just taken a dive, I'd say we're good to go."

[Dashiel Starborn]

“No one said anything about fixing anything,” Dash replied with a quick, pointed look her way. “All we're doing is scoping out the problem.”

A light freighter had been provided for their trip and was already prepped with flight co-ordinates. Add this to the two bags of gear they'd taken like pick-n-mix candy from the quartermasters stash, it was all feeling far too easy so far. Far too smooth. As he strapped himself into his safety webbing – mindful that the Alliance freighters were often ancient things with a liking for malfunction – he restlessly fiddled with a few dials on the control board.

“No radio? Frak.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

The freighter, as much as it had certainly seen better days, was a welcome sight to Tur'enne. If for no other reason than it meant things would get moving as soon as possible and as soon as gear was stowed and seat found she became quite content with the prospect of spending a few hours trying not to think about... well... anything.

The quiet she was attempting to force was constantly interrupted by Dashiel's fidgeting and his exclamation caused him to receive a sidelong glance from the Corellian. She watched his reaction to his realization for a moment before letting a small bout of laughter leave her.

"Oh come on, you didn't expect everything to be perfect right off, did you? Didn't you know it's standard Alliance regulation to have at least one piece of faulty equipment? Should be glad it's the radio and not the life support display."

[Dashiel Starborn]

Perfect wasn't a word that often got used in conjunction with anything related to the Rebellion. It was all, by nature, on the fly and off the cuff. Equipment was drafted in and out wherever and whenever it was needed. That in itself was the reason that Tur'enne and Starborn had ended up working together on more than one occasion: inter-branch co-operation was about the only way that Command had of covering all bases.

To their credit, the freighter was sky-worthy. Dash took the controls, enjoying the chance to get behind the steering yoke of something other than a land-speeder. He wasn't an ace pilot, by any stretch of the imagination, but he could do a point A to B jump without a hitch (...nine times out of ten). If nothing else, having something to focus his mind and hands on was a welcome distraction.

Sure enough, within minutes of clearing their moorings, the stars before them were exploding into a pulsing tunnel of light as the freighter entered hyperspace. Dash exhaled and reclined, tapping a key to darken the view-port against the glare of the near-hypnotic throb of light that stretched seemingly endlessly before them.

“Savareen sector. We're out of the way of any known Imperial bases,” he noted, as he cycled through the information that the ship's computer held on Nelvaan. “Though I wouldn't fancy our chances making a pass by Rodia,” he added, frowning slightly. It was common knowledge throughout the Intel department that the Black Sun were operating heavily out of Iskaayuma and Equator City; the space-lanes nearby were almost certain to be rife with all kinds of trouble.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Think it'll be that big of a problem?" Charlotte wasn't sure what exactly to say. While she wasn't against knowing what all could possibly stand between her and getting back home, she was getting overly used to the routine of not asking a ton of questions until on the ground. Leave the flying to the pilots, so long as you were in space everything was on them. That lesson had managed to override her natural curiosity... though it had helped that she had exactly zero interesting in learning how to fly anything.

Charles couldn't help but notice that Dash took to it easily enough, though. Even if it seemed he was making some of the motions over complicated to the point where she wondered if it was all an act to try and avoid any odd moments between them. Maybe she was just over thinking things... Frak... this was going to be a long flight.

[Dashiel Starborn]

Dashiel shrugged, non-committal. When he thought back to all the briefings he'd undergone recently, he couldn't recall anything that seemed relevant, besides the unspoken warning to give this kind of territory a wide-berth where possible. It was times like these that, he thought, he would have benefit from having the crystal-clear, never-fading memory his cousin Jane possessed. Then again, having a holo-accurate memory of Life Day playing through his head would have been a little distracting.

The minutes trickled by. Starborn went over everything they had access to on Nelvaan with a fine tooth-comb. Ordinarily, there wasn't the time for this kind of background work, but until they dropped back into real-space time was all they had. Occasionally, he made a comment on something of interest, but it occurred to him that what he found necessary for mission work wasn't necessarily the same as what Tur'enne did. The last thing he wanted was to give the impression that he was trying to tell her how to do her job. She probably had a head full of strategies that would fall into play naturally, as the mission unfolded.

Eventually, though, there was nothing else he could read. Well, there was always geothermal activity and the migratory patterns of the native wild-life, but there was no making that relevant. With a huff of breath, he tapped the data console into sleep mode and lifted his eyes to the main view-port. Hyperspace still spun like a kaleidoscope before them. The more he looked at it, the more it made him feel nauseous, so he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, trying to shut out the light that still pulsed in front of his eyelids.

“...You hear that someone broke Director's Van-Derveld's nose that night on Yavin 4?”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

The thought sprung into her mind, was tempted to be said in jest and then Charlotte came to the realization that there seemed to be a great deal about Life Day that she couldn't remember... bits and pieces, and one very specific event was pretty clear, but everything before Dashiel and her had...well...

"It... wasn't me, was it?" Silly question to ask, but it did have some sort of basis in might-be. Oh for kriff's sake...you're both avoiding it. Just... "If so, I think that might be the only thing I could say I might regret from that night." Smooth Charles, real nice one there...

[Dashiel Starborn]

“You?” Dash blinked his eyes open and looked across to his co-pilot with an expression of mingled amusement and disbelief. Whoever had hit the Director was probably in a wheel-chair by now, taking their meals through a tube. No, Charlotte wasn't that bold. If nothing else, he could safely vouch for her whereabouts for almost all of the evening...

When talk turned to regrets, a little of the humour drained from Starborn's smile. “You never got that... what was it, ration of shit from your squad, then?”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

She sighed softly and looked away from the swirling colors of hyperspace. "Not really, I think the guys don't care. Captain Tallen..." Charles cringed, "on the other hand was more than happy to bring it to my attention."

The thought was chewed over for a bit, physically mirroring her brain by biting her lower lip just slightly before she spoke again. "Though I swear she'd point out the fact it was raining if she thought it would ruin someone's day. So you can stop looking over your shoulder, Dash, I'm not going to be making good on that threat any time soon."

[Dashiel Starborn]

“Thank the Force, I can sleep safe at night.”

He'd gotten the impression already, after only a handful of mentions of her name, that Captain Tallen wasn't someone whose opinion Charles valued a great deal. He didn't care much for it either, though Dash could have easily said the same about a lot of the military so it wasn't anything personal. Idly, he brushed one hand against the back of his neck, mussing the hair just above his jackets collar as he looked sidelong at Tur'enne, out of the corner of his eyes. A smile was creeping its way back onto his lips.

“Though, you know.. if you did happen by my rack after hours sometime...”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

A slow smile crept on her lips, "Careful what you wish for, Starborn."

Charlotte was tempted to wink at him, very tempted. But that was playing a bit too much with fire and for the moment she was quite content to let them both cool off a bit. It was with a slight bit of amusement she realized it was more on account of the fact they were on a mission than a lack of alcohol.

A sensation like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Good... It didn't get rid of everything that was eating away at some portion of her mind, but at least it took away whatever worries she had regarding Dashiel, and that for the moment would do. So... on to the next thing on the agenda...

"Don't think I'm asking this to just change the subject... but you have any idea what's going on in your department? I mean... us being called in by a member of the Advisory Council for a briefing just seemed... off. Orders don't come like that unless something's up."

[Dashiel Starborn]

At first, his only answer was a shrug, but from the pinched frown on his face it was obvious Dash had more to say on the matter. “I don't know. We.. haven't had a lot of good luck, lately.” Never-mind the fact that they'd lost Director Belargic, there was the constant looming threat of sabotage from within. Though he hadn't been privy to all the details on the traitor in their midst, he felt the paranoia which had wormed it's way into every corner of the department.

The fact that his aunt was on the military oversight committee for intelligence didn't exactly help, either. Celeste had been as frank and forthcoming as ever when discussing her opinions on Grace Van-Derveld at the last of their family's get-together's. Neither he nor Jane had relayed what had been said, thinking it to be the product of one too many glasses of blossom wine, but both of them had remembered her words well: emotional, head-strong, volatile...

“Maybe the Council just wants to take a more hands-on approach in what's going on,” he added, cocking his head his thoughtfully to one side. His contemplation was short-lived, however, as as beeping from the control console drew his attention. Puzzled, he looked to the chrono to confirm that an hour had passed and their ship would soon be arriving at its target destination.

“You want to get suited up now? Not long before we drop to realspace.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Her face scrunched up just slightly as he gave his opinion on the matter, the thought of the Council getting more involved, at least in a direct way, was certainly not what she wanted to hear. Damn politicians had no room in day-to-day procedures... even if some of them actually had experience in the field.

The small shaking of her head at the thought of it all was brought to a halt with Dash's question.

"Probably not a bad idea." As if she was going to say Nah, let's wait until the last possible minute.

Charlotte reluctantly moved from the seat and over to the equipment bags they brought along, unpacking the all weather gear and began to suit up.

"Attention passengers, this is your co-pilot speaking, the current temperature on Nelvaan is ass-freezing cold with a chance of snow and blaster fire from unfriendlies. We'll be landing with our normal amount of turbulence, thank you for flying Rebel Alliance air." A cheeky smirk was given to Starborn.

[Dashiel Starborn]

The white-on-white gear they'd been provided with wouldn't have looked out of place in the snow-trenches on Hoth. The fur-lining even looked, felt and smelled like it could have been Tauntaun hide. “Only the best,” he murmured to himself, feeling a little chill wriggle down his spine as he wondered if the uniforms were left-overs from the Alliance's last-stand at Echo Base.

Right on cue, turbulence shook the freighter as it burst out of hyperspace, the stars ahead of them suddenly shrinking to pinpoints of light. Directly in their line of sight, the Nelvaan and it's trio of duck-egg blue moons filled the sky.

Though the bulky snow gear stopped him from getting back into the pilot's seat, Starborn edged around the chair to get a better view. There wasn't a lot that could be read in the cloud cover, but it was always strange to see a world where there were no billions of lights studded into the surface like radiant gems. There were no cities on Nelvaan, only the vast mountains and mesas, and the handful of facilities that had been built – and in some cases abandoned – by both the Republic and the Empire.

Their approach would bring the shuttle into the planet's atmosphere during its daylight hours. The freighter's sensors were better suited, and calibrated, towards sensing life based on electronic energy but what registered from Nelvaan was barely enough to indicate that any life survived in the precarious and desolate landscape. Breaking atmosphere was usually a prelude to a firefight, but this time... there was nothing, only heavy flakes of snow swirling across the view-screen.

“Looks like you were right about the ass-freezing,” Dash said, as he stared down at the seemingly lifeless world below them.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

As ship touched down and the loading ramp touched down, the first hit of cold air slammed into the both of them. That was something Charles never got used to, that feeling like it was ice you were breathing in and it had every intention of turning your lungs into one of its frigged minions. As much as Charles loathed the bulkiness of the all-weather gear, the fact that all she felt was a slight chill overcome her reminded her as to why her usual infiltrator gear would have little else other than manage to turn her into a little Corellian icepop.

The snowfall was light, fluffy, almost calming. Even the wind was only gently blowing the flakes around rather than managing to create any sort of noise. It would have been a rather charming scene if it wasn't for the fact the utter quiet of everything made Charles think more of frozen-death than winter-wonderland.

The buildings that houses the water treatment plant they were inspect wasn't far off, maybe somewhere around 850 meters by Charles' best guess - she hadn't really bothered to check the exact number back on the ship. The flat ground allowed for the giving away of the basic form of the compound and a quick view through a pair of macrobinoculars visually confirmed what the readouts had earlier - the place looked miserably deserted.

"Figures, how boring. Guess we really are all alone out here." Charles cast a glance over at Dashiel and gently shrugged her shoulders.

[Dashiel Starborn]

With a pair of macro-binoculars pressed up against his snow goggles, Starborn narrowed his eyes at the sight of the water siphoning plant. Factories – and from his understanding, this was a factory – generally had a look of industry about them, but here there were no smoking chimney stacks, no workers moving busily to and fro. The exterior of the plant was as still and lifeless as the rest of Nelvaan, as far as the eye could see.

“Look how thick the ice is.” Dash crouched to one knee, rapping a padded knuckle against the frozen ground beneath them. “It looks like it's been building up for weeks.” He turned his head to look up towards the plant. “And there's no docking facilities attached to the facility itself... looks like no one has been moving anything in and out of here for a while.”

But as he dusted snow from the palms of his gloves, rising to his feet, Dash saw what was missing from the overall picture – a tanker, squatting half-in half-out of what appeared to be a ground-level loading bay. A blanket of snow lay across the length of the vehicle, its treads completely submerged and it's cabin doors wide open.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Their approach was slow, caution, pretty much by-the-book. The snow crunching under their feet annoyed the living hells out of her. So much for any form of stealth. Charles couldn't decide what was bugging her more about the mission - the fact that it really was starting to look like her and Dash were being sent on some dumb errand run that neither of them had the business of being on, or that continual I have a very bad feeling about this sensation that refused to shut the kriff up.

The tanker was where she headed to, it being the only thing that seemed to have some sort of association to the fact that there had at least been some form of activity at the plant. Upon first appearance it looked exactly as it had from a distance, like everyone had simply up and vanished in a big hurry. Though it didn't take long for her to spot the more expected answer... a bunch of fabric just barely peeking out from under a heavy layer of snow.

The bundle was crouched down near and she instantly began uncovering the body of the worker, pushing snow off of him. The cold had mostly kept the body in tact, lower levels of snow taking on the red of the man's blood. Once revealed enough, Charles gently pushed the man from his side to his back, frowning at once at the deep wounds that appeared to have been inflicted by some sort of animal. Most of the man's features were completely indistinguishable.

"Well," Charles straightened to her feet once more, "now there's your problem." The tone she had used was a joking one, like a mechanic finding a giant issue with a speeder that the owner had been moronically oblivious to. After a heavy breath she looked away from the tanker and into the loading bay. "Why do I get the feeling we'll be finding everyone else in a similar state?"

[Dashiel Starborn]

It took a moment for Starborn to register what they were looking at. Wads of snow spilled out like maggots from the empty eye-sockets and slack jaw. Whatever blood had been spilled him become so diluted that only the slight darkening of the ice-nearby gave a clue as to just what had happened. Without it, the body would have looked like like a mannequin – cold and hard, though far from smooth.

He did a quick mental recap of what they could expect to find on Nelvaan. Aside from the Bothan's who ran the plant, along with their near-enough human staff, who – or what – else was here? The natives, though there was no indication that they would have any interest in what the siphoning facility contained. Although the body laid before them looked as if it had been mauled by a wild animal, the bitter cold did little to help such creatures thrive – and it certainly didn't educate them in the use of knives, evidence of whose presence could be seen in the cleaner, more efficient slices to the flesh.

“What could have done this?” he asked, pulling his eyes away to look the dark interior of the loading bay. His fingers curled a little tighter around his blaster.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Don't think we're looking for a 'what', so much as a 'who'." Out of the corner of her eyes Charles could see Dash's reaction physically, the blaster in his hands probably wasn't such a bad idea and so the DH-17 Carbine found its place quickly in hers.

"Looks like this just got interesting though, huh?" There was no hiding the enthusiasm in her voice, even if it was laced with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Another glance was cast at the body in the snow before she stepped away from it and headed into the loading bay, eyes sweeping every corner that was revealed. The closer in they got the heavier the uncomfortable feeling in her chest grew, as if something was pressing down on her. Sure she had been in situations similar to this before, but this was different, and unease was almost overwhelming. What the frink is going on? Karking hells, Charlie. Get a hold of yourself...

"Let's continue on, see if we can't get a better picture of what happened here. If there's survivors we'll deal with them if we come across them." There was something almost sickening about the thought that there might even have been survivors. Maybe it just hit a little too close to home.

"Judging by how long the body's looks like its been laying there, I'd say our chances of hostile contact are probably slim, but..." Charles glanced over at Dash and laughed slightly at the sudden absurdity at giving an Intel officer any sort of direction. "Why the hells am I telling you this? Frak... sorry, Starborn."

[Dashiel Starborn]

Between his goggles and the scarf wrapped around Starborn's face, there was a hint of a smile – though Dash looked more confused than amused. He was at a loss for words, or direction, in the face of such brutality. It wasn't the first time he'd seen a dead body, but they'd never looked like this before. They'd look like... well, bodies. People. Not just lumps of frozen meat, hacked into. The thought more his stomach squirm, so much so that he sucked in a lung-full of frozen air and forced his mind into the part of itself that was all protocol and procedure.

The loading bay was a cavernous room, at least ten – perhaps fifteen – more of the tankers they had seen outside. It was dimly lit, though the open door allowed the brightness reflected off of the snow to reach at least some of the darkened corners. With the sights of their weapons scanning across the shadows, they stood roughly back to back, in an effort to cover their entire area of responsibility. Passing his gun into one hand, Starborn quickly shoved the goggles away from his eyes before firmly planting both hands on the pistol's grip once again.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

There were more bodies inside, and sadly without a good covering of ice to encase them, decay had set in. It wasn't their appearance or the smell that was getting to her, though. The simple fact they were walking into a nightmare of a situation didn't seem to phase her, even with every shadowed and mangled corpse they came across. It was as if the air itself carried memories of what had happened but was too afraid to speak it. If Charles wasn't so damn nervous about the possibility of why it was she felt that way and getting a negative from her partner, she might have asked if Dashiel felt the same.

Charles had experience. She didn't get scared, her training had given her the ability to mostly shut off emotions when faced with things like this. But it wasn't working, something was overriding every integrated instinct and it was probably only the fact she had Starborn at her back that was keeping her together.

"This isn't right." Way to go and understate the obvious. At least she had only mumbled the sentiment. With any luck Dashiel hadn't heard her, or at least he wouldn't respond.

Another one of the dead workers was come across and Charles couldn't help but note it looked like something had been, no way, eating part of the man's face? It certainly looked like teeth marks but not like those of any animal she had ever seen, they looked more... Droyk, Charles! Don't even think it.

[Dashiel Starborn]

There was a cold spreading throughout Starborn's limbs that had absolutely nothing to do with Nelvaan's sub-zero climate. His body wanted to shake, but rather than give into that nervous energy he owned it, turned it to his advantage in the hopes that it would sharpen his reflexes. The employees of the plant had likely been unarmed and unprepared for whatever had gotten to them, but that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. On visual cues alone, Dash would have guessed they were dealing with something big and hungry. The loading bay was showing no signs of a fire-fight, so it was likely the thing had just torn a bloody swathe through the work-force before anyone had had a chance to so much as thing about priming a blaster's energy cell.

“We should find the security office.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Right." The conviction in her voice was lacking, but at least one of them had suggested something aside from just standing around looking at dead people.

There was no shaking off the feeling of unease, no matter how hard Charles was trying to push it out of her head. Get to the security office... The order came mentally and, strangely enough, in the late Lt. Col. Rask's voice. At least some part of her mind still knew how to get her to move.

Charles took a deep breath before pushing onwards, attempting to keep mind of the layout of the plant that she'd managed to glance over in the mission documents. Every new corpse they came across she averted her eyes from.

"Security footage should give us a better idea of what happened..." Despite the serious lack of any reason to really do so, her voice remained hushed. At the same time her tone somehow managed to convey the fact she wasn't quite looking forward to reviewing such things. "We'll probably need to get a copy for HQ."

[Dashiel Starborn]

The facility shouldn't have been difficult to navigate. The bulk of the place was machinery, responsible for filtering and purifying the water drawn from Nelvaan's frozen terrain. Navigating the factory was largely a case of moving along cat-walks and gang-ways, which criss-crossed above and beneath transparisteel tubes and vats, whose bubbling surfaces was a testament to the on-going production that the facility was responsible for.

Yet as they moved out onto one of the grated gang-ways, Dash saw no bubbling. He heard no hiss of steam and when he looked to the transportation tubes, he saw that they were dry, or that the water in them sat stagnant and still. When a uniformed corpse, equally stactic, blocked their path, Starborn crouched low for a moment and worked some free from a lanyard around the bodies neck. It was an ID badge, an impassive Bothan face looking out at him from the photo panel. Alongside the image and the employees name, which had been smeared with something sickening rust-red, there was a bar-code. If it was a pass-card, it might be useful.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

The simple fact she couldn't focus was getting on her nerves. How the hell hadn't she thought to search any of the corpses for anything useful? That was the sort of mistake a novice would make. At least her eyes were doing their job though, scanning around the various pieces of equipment for any sign of life or hinting at just what anyone would have wanted that would have allowed for this sort of brutality. Then again... given the nature of the deaths so far, maybe there wasn't much motivation aside from slaughter.

The push to the security office was only filled with more silence, cold, bad feelings, and dead bodies. Even as the door opened, Charles realized with a shudder that while she knew they had gone through the facility, each step had been taken, the series of minutes it took were almost a blank slate to her. With the room swept through to make sure it was secure she waited by the computer terminal for Dash to see what he could bring up.

Enough was enough, though. The constant feeling of dread that was seeping into her, making her nervous to the point she was unprofessionally jumpy needed to be addressed. You didn't keep those you were working with in the dark if you were feeling off, especially not to the point that Charles was.

"Ok, so aside from the creepy as hell dren we keep coming across, it just me or is this whole place... off?" Okay, so that wasn't the best start. "I don't mean... the situation. I mean..." Charles sighed heavily. "I don't know what the frak I mean. It's just like there's something in the air..."

Her eyes slowly moved over to Dash for any sort of reaction. "It doesn't feel right."

[Dashiel Starborn]

Charlotte kept watch whilst Dash tried to make some use out of the facilities computer network. Alliance Intelligence expected all of its agents to have an advanced degree of proficiency with technology and whilst his training had certainly not lacked in that regard, it relied on a certain amount of co-operation from the technology itself.

The carnage that had cut through the facility had also left its mark in the security control room. Something had crunched under Starborn's foot when he had stepped up to the console, and closer inspection revealed it was one of the many keys from the keyboard that had been knocked out of place like broken teeth. He'd tried to push them back into place, but it just wasn't working.

All they had been left with access to was what they could see, on first glance, and that amounted to little more than the grainy live holo-cam feeds that covered most of the facility. Each small vid-screen cycled through a series of images for a certain sector of the facility, showing what seemed – through the eerie stillness that pervaded – to be static shots of maintenance corridors, storage areas and the filtration equipment itself. The lens of one holo-cam was partially obscured, splattered with blood.

It wasn't until Charles spoke that Dash noticed the stalk of a microphone poking out of the control terminal. The light beside it – which read 'live' – was dim, but the whole atmosphere of the facility made him feel like though they had a birds eye view of it all, someone could well have heard what Tur'enne had said, and be watching them right back through the view screens they were stood before.

“It doesn't make sense. I mean, look at this..” He dipped his fingers into the console, where the keys had been smashed out of their slots, as if fishing about in the jumble of letters he might be able to piece them together into an explanation. “There is nothing about this that says Empire to me... whoever did this, what the hell did they want to get out of it?”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charles glanced at each of the monitors, trying to keep herself from nibbling on her lower lip as she considered everything. Weird overall upsetting feelings, tons of mangled dead people, seemingly mindless destruction. As much as Charlie loathed the Empire and everyone in it, she had to admit this wasn't quite their style. Especially not when the resources could have been used for their own benefit.

A shudder ran through her, which she quickly blamed on the cold despite the gear she wore was keeping most of it at bay. Well, at least Dash had chosen to keep quiet on her comments and stick to the mission. Maybe it was about damn time she actually make a real effort to do so as well.

"That's what we need to find out." Her reply to his question was an obvious one, but it helped to get her mind back on track. "We may know basically why the facility went quiet, but something tells me command isn't going to be too keen on us returning without the who and why."

Charlie forced her feet to move, despite their want to remain glued to the spot, and stood next to Dashiel at the console. She motioned to one of the screens showing the actual pumping equipment and vats. "Well it obviously wasn't supposed to be any sort of tactical hit. Why leave everything undamaged as far as all that is concerned? Computer terminals can be replaced easily but if this was a sabotage job, anyone with any brains would have blown all the machinery to bits."

Another glance was cast to the feed whose view was obscured by the splash of blood. "This all just seems like... mindless, savage. At best I would say someone was trying to just make a statement..."

Her instincts and that continual feeling that there was more here that they just weren't grasping had already answered the question with a resounding no, but Charlie bounced the idea off Dash anyway. "You sure we can rule out the locals?"

[Dashiel Starborn]

“I don't know.”

In that instant, the number of things they could be sure of were limited. With his eyes still locked, almost unseeing, on the streaming holo-cam feeds, Starborn chewed the inside of his cheek. There had to be some method to it all, a pattern that they weren't seeing.

Besides the trail of corpses that – impossibly – looked as if they had been cut down with mere minutes of one another, there was scant little destruction to the facility itself. If members of the native species were to blame, it might follow that they lacked the capability to destroy complex machinery and perhaps even believed that by killing the workers, the factory itself would come to a standstill.

A theory like that hinged on far too many assumptions and suppositions, however, and Dash knew just how well that kind of explanation would be received. If nothing else, claiming that savage aliens were responsible - without providing any conclusive evidence - would add fuel to the already kindling fire of conflict between the human and non-human portions of the Alliance, who at times grew restless and resentful in the belief that humanity still saw itself as the benchmark of what was morally good and superior in the galaxy.

His eyes barely registered what they were seeing, Dash suddenly blinked as something moved at the edge of his vision. Full of focus within an instant, Starborn stared hard at the video screen where he had seen the flicker of motion, willing it to reappear.

“Did you see that?”

He didn't look away, fearing that he might miss something else, but Dash felt Charlotte stepping closer alongside him.

“There.. the lower maintenance levels. I could swear I just saw... something.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charles felt the smirk tug at her lips and before she could stop it the comment came out in a horribly patronizing way. "Don't tell me you're starting to see ghosts now."

The smirk turned into a slightly sheepish smile as Charles readily became aware of the fact that the small hint of meanness had only come out as a form of self defense against her own unease at everything. Even if she'd been the one to witness whatever it was that Dash had seen, the comment probably would have come out anyway, only with that added cruelty that comes when someone directs that sort of thing at themselves.

Whatever trust and confidence Charles held for her occasional-partner managed to override the fact she was starting to wonder if whatever feelings were getting to her might have started been affecting Dash as well. But Charles had learned a long time ago that when in a situation like this, you had to trust in your partner's senses as much as you would your own and if Dash thought he saw something, no good was going to come of questioning him on that.

"Well, we've got two options then..." Her voice had hushed from even the softer tones she had been using since they had come across the first corpse. "Either we go check it out and see if we can't find out what's down there while maybe finding our perpetrator or a survivor..." The pause was short and her next word was drawn out. "Or we continue with normal investigations and keep a continuous watch on our backs waiting for something to pounce on us and turn us into eyeless gory masses."

With the blaster carbine still firmly in her grasp she allowed the small smirk to return to her. "Don't think I really need to tell you which of those I rather go with."

[Dashiel Starborn]

“I don't know what I saw.”

The compulsion to keep his eyes glued to the screen was hard to shake. It was if he looked away, whatever ghost – as Charles had called it – he'd glimpsed might take that momentary lapse in vigilance as a chance to make another move. There was a morbid fascination in watching and waiting for something to happen, but that amounted to doing nothing and wouldn't get them anywhere.

“Whatever's in here.. it doesn't seem like it's the type to plan an ambush.”

Even as he said the words, Dash couldn't say with complete certainty that he believed them. He was forming a picture in his mind of what they were up against, and so far he had very little set down in stone. There were only two things he was convinced of. First, that they were dealing with a being of lethal physical prowess, and second, that it was not stable. That didn't mean it was evil, or that it wanted to make the trail of destruction behind it even longer – contrary to all evidence – but simply that it could be disorientated, lost.

Could be. Again, it felt a little like trying to talk himself into dislodging his feet from the ground and actually heading into the belly of the factory. His teeth set hard together, Dash finally looked away from the screens to give the control room one last glance, before nodding.

“Let's go.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Right..."

At first Charles wasn't entirely sure which of her two less-than-ideal scenarios she had just agreed to, another wave of (please don't call it that) anxiety seemed to press out any reasonable line of thinking once more.

A glance back at the screens herself brought Dash's last comment about the unlikely event of an ambush brought the situation back into focus. He did have a point, she had to give him that. All the damage seemed far too primal to be created by anything capable of actually plotting and executing a plan that would actually catch two fairly alert individuals unaware.

"Right" Charles hated the fact she had just repeated herself, "let's go say hello to this ghost of yours."

With that she let herself take another one of those deep breaths that should have calmed a person but never really seemed to work before exiting the surveillance room and lead the way towards the lower levels.

[Dashiel Starborn]

As they crept down towards the lower levels, Dash listened intently to the silence. He would have given a month's paycheck to hear something – anything! - making a noise down there. It wasn't that he wanted to run into trouble, but the sound of movement, of life, would at least let them know they were dealing with something tangible. Even if one person had survived, they could give them a clue to what had happened. Reaching the bottom of a maintenance stairway, it was as if their prayers had been answered.

“He...llo?” a voice gasped, with what sounded like its last breath.

Dash froze, resisting the urge to loose shot after shot into the shadows. At the bottom of the stairwell, barely visible in the dim emergency lighting, was a body. With a sharp glance at Tur'enne, he edged down towards it with quick sharp steps. There, wearing the same engineers uniform as the rest of the plants employees, was an Elomin. One of it's horns had been snapped and its nose tusks were caked with dark blood.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

A curse slipped from her lips softly, barely audible. The sight of the Elomin brought a tumble of emotions that seemed somehow far more heightened than they normally would have been. Wounded weren't something new to her, and she'd seen individuals at first glance that were far worse off than the engineer, but still something sharp twisted in her gut.

The sympathy was overridden suddenly by an entirely unexpected emotion: paranoia. Was the individual before them a survivor... or the one who caused everything? Had he gone mad and slaughtered his coworkers? Were the injuries faked? The notions seemed ludicrous and yet Charles was having a hard time pushing them out of her mind.

Dying or faking it, there was only one question Charles wanted answered by the Elomin at that moment and, not surprisingly, it didn't want to remain held back.

"What happened here?" She managed to surprise herself with the softness of tone that it came out with, even with its overall undertone of urgency.

[Dashiel Starborn]

The Elomin tried to speak, but all that came out was a wet gargle. He wretched and Dash forced himself not to look away as it sounded as if the engineer was about to throw up. Screwing his eyes shut, the Elomin pulled the back of one hand shakily across his mouth. An obsessively orderly species, with a fanatical devotion to hygenie, Starborn thought he could see the revulsion in the engineers eyes as he struggled to look down at the mess he had become.

“S-some.. k-ind of.. monster,” he managed, the sharp lines of his features contorting every which way as emotions warred beneath his skin. He reached out for something, anything, and pawed at the grating beside Charlotte's feet before finally knocking his fingertips against the toe of a boot.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

*flash*

The body hit the ground, his eyes – her eyes – looking down on the heap of flesh and bone, searching from the precise point from which he – she, Charlotte seeing through the eyes of another – could divine the necessary answers. He reached out a pale hand and the Elomin, scrambling backwards, threw his arms up in defense – but it was no use. The pale hand cut through the air, as if to back-hand an invisible foe, yet instantly the Elomin flew backwards, crashing down the stairs and landing in a mangled heap at the bottom.


*flash*

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

The breath she took in was sharp and it was a small miracle that occurred that kept her from falling backwards as she quickly pulled away from... everything.

She couldn't have seen that. Whatever it was... She just couldn't have. This notion continually repeated in her mind, attempting to drown out the lingering sensations of... No. Charlotte couldn't admit to herself that she had suddenly experienced a wave of feelings that she never should have. There was her own sense of horror at what she had seen, sure! But there was a disgusting lingering feeling of loathing towards the Elomin she couldn't shake.

All she wanted at that moment was to leave. I'm compromising this mission...

Her eyes slowly moved over to Dash. "We... we can't take him back with us. He'll die of his injuries before we even get back to the shuttle."

Charles knew she was stating the obvious, but at least there was a slight comfort there.

[Dashiel Starborn]

Charlotte was right, but there was an edge to her voice that didn't sound... right. It didn't sound like the Charlotte he knew at all, in fact. The look in her eyes wasn't the hard determination of a seasoned soldier; it was the panicked anxiety of a young woman seeing a mutilated and dying creature for the first time. He frowned on reflex, confused.

“I know.” He put himself between her and the Elomin, and dropped his voice. “But if he can tell us anything...”

“H-help me.”

Inhaling a calming breath, Dash turned back towards the injured engineer.

“What did it want and where did it go?”

“P-please.. I don't want to die here. D-don't.. I have a son. Six years old.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

It wasn't that she had never come across anyone dying before, and admittedly the first corpse they had found had been profoundly more disturbing than the engineer's predicament, but that vision... as much as Charles would never ever call it that... was getting in the way of her rational thinking.

The air in her lungs was forced out in a quick breath before another was drawn in slowly. Another glance was cast at Dashiel as the strap on her blaster carbine was shoved over her shoulder, the weapon itself following.
Being careful to keep herself out of arm's reach of the Elomi, Charles knelt down next to him and looked the man in the eyes.

"You aren't going to die." There wasn't a shred of doubt in her voice and the lie passed far too smoothly for her liking, but now wasn't the time to dwell on that little tidbit.

"You need to tell us where the one who attacked you went. What was he after?"

[Dashiel Starborn]

Already drifting in and out of consciousness, the Elomin's vision swam, his eyes rolling like marbles back into his head – before the sound of Charlotte's voice, low and questioning, yanked him back into a waking state. Still with one foot on the stairs, Dash reflexively pointed the muzzle of his blaster at the engineers head. It wasn't until he heard Charlotte's attempts at reassuring the Elomin that he even registered, in his own mind, that he was ready to blow the Elomin's brains out at any second. There was an oppressive atmosphere in the corridor, heavy and anxious.

“D-didn't see.. It didn't sss-top.”

Trembling, his hand went to his stomach, where frayed threads of fabric where clinging to a patch of burned, circular flesh.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

*flash*

The Elomin, struggling to prop himself up onto his elbows, shook his head. Spittle flew from his lips as he shrieked at the oncoming figure - “What is? What?! I don't understand what you want!” - but within seconds his voice was drowning out by the unmistakable snarl of a lightsaber coming to life. Pale blue light filled the corridor, and made the horned engineer into a statue carved from ice. With a single, mercilessly efficient gesture, the blade plunged down into the Elomin's gut – eliciting a gasp of pure agony and filling the air with the scent of burnt o-zone and charred flesh.

“It's here somewhere,” a hollow voice said, as deathly pale hands twisted the blade, further deepening the wound. “I can smell it.”


*flash*

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"A... a Jedi?"

The words left her mouth before she even had the ability to process them. Never mind the fact that she was seeing things and didn't want to alarm her partner. Too late for that now.

She pulled away from the Elomin and looked to Dashiel. If he wanted to ask questions on just how she knew what she was about to say, it would have to wait. Charles figured she was due for a psych eval anyway.

"It wasn't a monster..." It was clear by her tone that Charles wasn't quite sure that the description wasn't entirely accurate.

Slowly she got to her feet and stepped away from the dying engineer.

"It was a Force user. The wound was made from a lightsaber..." Everything sounded hollow as it left her. A momentary pause was allowed before her eyes trained on Starborn.

"There's nothing we can do for him. He didn't even know what the..." She hesitated as her mind went over the words again: Jedi, Force user...the first certainly didn't seem right. "...individual was after."

[Dashiel Starborn]

“A what?”

Dash looked back at the Elomin as he lapsed into the dark embrace of unconsciousness once again. Sure enough, beneath the blood and tatters of clothing, there was a patch of cauterised flesh on his belly. When he spoke, his voice had taken on a low and urgent tone, even more aware now that they might not be alone.

“A Jedi? They wouldn't do this – and what would they be looking for here anyway? There's nothing but... water.”

Something moved at the fork in the corridor ahead of Charlotte and Dash, rattled, let of two blaster bolts that illuminated the shadows with a flash and revealed, just for an instant, a hunched silhouette. The laser bolts sizzled into the wall of the corridor, whilst the shadow bolted left, footsteps echoing away from them.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

At first, she simply cursed herself for not realizing there had been someone in the hall, then came the mixture of instinct against rational thought in how to handle whoever was running from them. She hated this sort of situation, that was clear enough. Sneaking around corridors was one thing... going after someone sneaking around was just annoying at this point.

As she quickly followed, blaster in hand, pausing at the intersection to make sure she wasn't about to get shot by someone waiting around the bend before taking up the chase again... one thing was infinitely clear in her mind. Whoever she was following wasn't the person she was seeing through in those glimpses. No - that individual wouldn't have had any reservations about simply waltzing in and hacking her and Dashiel to pieces.

She knew Dash would be close by, he seemed almost as jumpy as her after all and no one in their right mind would have stuck by the dying engineer at a time like this.

"If you have to shoot, make sure you've got it on stun. It's probably another survivor... and if not..." Another turn was taken, the fleeing footsteps of the other individual getting satisfyingly louder as they gained. "...well, if it's a friend of whoever decided to turn that poor sap back there into a kabob then you'll probably want to question him."

It was strange hearing herself sound so... rational. After all, Charles already knew she was going to have to prevent herself from simply killing whoever it was they were chasing.

[Dashiel Starborn]

The Elomin was all but forgotten as Dash stalked behind Charlotte, his blaster sight fixed on the length of the corridor above them, aimed a foot or so above Tur'enne's head. At her suggestion, he flicked the pistol onto it's stun mode and hoped that, given what he thought they were up against, it would be enough to stop whatever had cut such a bloody, unstoppable swathe through the facility.

They reached another junction and swung their sights left and right to confirm that all was clear. They passed another crumpled heap that had once been a living being, and as Dash skirted by the corpse he kept the muzzle of his blaster firmly targeted on the bodies head, as if he expected it to suddenly spring upwards and grab them

The next turn they made was into a dead end – or what looked like one. A heavy blast door blocked the end of the corridor, its battered access panel spluttering a few pitiful sparks into the air. Even in the dim emergency lighting, the huge two-meter tall silhouette of someone, or something, was visible.

“Drop your weapons and turn around, hands in the air!”

[S'zemek]

The lights in the hallway flickered and the something growled low as it turned away from the blast-door.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Dashiel had gotten the command out before she could, but the growl from the figure before them showed that it could stand repeating.

"He said to put your hands in the air and turn the frak around."

Cursing at that point, Charles thought afterward, was probably not the best thing to be doing. Yet even as the thought that what they had found was a potential survivor rang through her own mind again, she couldn't help but notice the steady aim she had on the creature.

"We're here to find out what happened to the others."

She left it at that. Hopefully the simple comment would bring small comfort if the... whatever it was... worked at, or knew someone who worked at the facility. If it was otherwise, however... well... hopefully it would have the desired effect there as well.

The one thing that Charles knew was that the figure before them was not the one directly responsible for the mass destruction around them. She knew somehow, sickeningly, that if she ever ran across that particular individual she would know them right away.

[Dashiel Starborn]

As big as it was, it would have been impossible to miss the fact that their cornered target had turned around. Dash was wavering on where to aim his pistol. The muzzle was pointed at where he roughly thought the creature's legs were, with a view to a knee-capping if it made any wrong moves. With a quick glance at Charlotte – as if he really needed confirmation that she had her snipers eye on the creatures vitals – Starborn fumbled for a torch. The beam split the shadows and pinned the huge, blue figure in a disc of light that was almost blinding in the gloom. Baring fanged teeth, the creature sank back onto its haunched and swung a long spear across its body.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charlotte was short tempered, often let words leave her mouth before she fully thought them out, and generally quick to make decisions... but an itchy trigger finger was not something she possessed. Which made the sensation that she was actually fighting herself from shooting the creature in front of them maddening. The urge had to be fought all the greater once it made it rather apparent it was armed.

"Look, we aren't here to hurt you and we won't unless you make that necessary." She was no negotiator, that was for certain, but when she wanted to Charlotte could command a bit of presence with her voice. The words came out slowly, though, carefully and as best she could calmly.

Of course, as soon as she finished speaking she realized that the creature before them may not have understood a word of basic, which meant that even the best speaker in the galaxy wouldn't be able to stop it.

Her voice lowered, aimed more at her partner. "Dash, trust me on this one, ok? Lower your weapon...do it slowly, but do it." The edge in her voice clearly didn't leave room for rebuttal.

She wasn't stupid either though, while she hoped that the Intel agent was doing as she had said, her own weapon remained firmly targeted on the creature. It was her body posture that changed though, going from an aggressive stance to one more neutral if not defensive. Charles wasn't sure if it'd come across as such considering the blaster in her hands, but it was worth a try.

[Dashiel Starborn]

He didn't move at first. The curl of the creature's lips, the gleam in its eye – everything was screaming at Dash to keep whatever semblance of protection he had between himself and that huge figure in the doorway.

With a twist of his lips, Dash shifted his posture and made a move as if to re-align his sights. Charlotte wasn't his superior, but she did have more combat experience. More than that, she still had her weapon on target and he was certain that if anyone could put a blaster bolt in the right place, it was Tur'enne. He dropped his blaster to his side, though kept it free of the holster.

“Who are you?”

His words came out slow, each syllable shaped carefully.

“What happened here?”

[S'zemek]

In the chill, the creature's breath rose from its flared nostrils and curled lips like steam. Suddenly, on some inexplicable impulse, the apparent need to defend itself against a foe that it could not understand, it jerked forwards. It's spear lashed out across the distance between it and Dash and –

- hit the grating with a clatter, as it's left leg gave way beneath it. The creature grunted low as pain dropped it to one knee. Starborn, a hairs breadth away from squeezing his trigger, blinked. It took a moment to register that he hadn't fired. The creature's shoulders sagged as it steadied its weight with one tree-trunk of an arm, the other reaching out to grasp the fallen spear.

As Starborn's flashlight swept searchingly over the creature's body, illuminating the litany of tattoos that covered its skin, the beam flashed over something gleaming. Twitching the shaft of light back to the source revealed a shard of misshapen metal, like the shrapnel of an explosion, was buried into the upper half of the creature's leg calf, dark blood slowly oozing from the wound.

“Dokt-... orvos.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Well that certainly explained a few things. Well... one thing, at least. Being scared and injured turned just about anyone into a surly bastard, something Charlotte knew damn well.

A sharp hit of adrenaline had surged through her body as the creature had lunged and she was still feeling the uncomfortable side effects of it. A long slow deep breath didn't really help. With her firearm still aimed on the creature she slowly stepped forward, just enough so the spear tip could be stepped on with her boot. A quick movement sent the weapon sliding across the floor, out of reach of the blue furred thing and behind Charlotte and Dashiel. In need of help or not, leaving the spear where it had fallen seemed like a stupid move. Not that the creature didn't exactly look perfectly capable of injuring both Rebels with its body alone... well, if it was healthy at least.

"How bad does it look to you? Think he's nicked something important?"

Charles never had been one to play field medic. A small pouch containing minimal supplied was always carried, but that was always meant to be able to handle any minor injuries that she obtained... as in, a normal human. She half wondered if there was anything she even had that would work on a larger being. Then there was that lovely clause of if the bacta patch she had would even heal the creature or if it would only make matters worse. No telling what the frak the thing was allergic to.

"Why do I get the really bad feeling that we're going to end up taking this guy back with us?"

[Dashiel Starborn]

“How bad does it look?” Dash echoed, his face scrunching up in confusion. Whatever they were looking at, it didn't look like a Bothan. Unless they'd pumped one full of steroids and left him outside in a blizzard long enough for him to turn blue. Starborn angled his flash-light beam upwards and the creature turned away from the glare of the beam. There was no blood on its long snout, yet it was the only thing left half-alive – with the exception of the mortally wounded Elomin engineer – that they'd come across. If anyone would be able to give an account of the factories demise, it would be him.

“Well, one more bad feeling can't hurt,” he muttered. “Any bright ideas on how to get him out of here?”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Carefully?" Although she tried, the smirk refused to be contained as she spoke.

It wasn't the best time for jokes, that was for damn sure. Given the alternative though, Charles figured Dash would appreciate her usual dry comments as opposed to an honest bleakness at the moment.

She sighed. "Normal Alliance improvision..."

Charles' attention turned back to the wounded creature in full, another somewhat agitated sigh leaving her before she finally lowered her blaster. That alone took a bit of a toll out of her, the mental argument against it had been strong enough that it was like fighting the instinct to not walk into a burning building. And anything that required a good deal of thought seemed to be doubly difficult what with the constant uncontrolled and wavering feeling of wanting to run, wanting to hide, wanting to kill, wanting to... whatever.

The blaster carbine was slung back over her shoulder, leaving her hands open so she could spread her fingertips wide in what usually was a galactic symbol for: I'm not going to try and kill you right now so do me a kindness and do the same. Slowly she began to approach the creature, hoping to get a closer look at just how bad the injury was. If it was something a bit of first-aid could handle until they got it to a proper medic, then odds were it would be able to walk on its own, maybe limping and maybe need some help, but it could happen. It was worse however...

"We are so finding the nearest bar and I'm ordering us both enough ale to forget this mess when this is over..." Although she faced the blue-furred creature, it was obvious the comment was meant for her partner.

[Dashiel Starborn]

“I'll drink to that.”

As Charlotte edged forward, Dash finally holstered his blaster. Once they were within arms reach of the creature, he didn't imagine that a blaster would make much difference anyway. It might have been injured, but it looked as if it had the upper-body strength to fend off – well, whatever had so efficiently torn apart the rest of the facility.

“How bad's the bleeding?” he asked, still hanging back at a distance in the hopes that the creature would find one stranger approaching less antagonizing than two. He turned to look back down the length of the corridor, scrutinizing the shadows they would have to travel back through to get to their freighter. “I think the two of us could shoulder him... probably.”

[S'zemek]

The creature's eyes darted between its lost spear and Charlotte, regarding the latter with a new-found sense of uncertainty. Yet, for all being backed into a corner was the last place it wanted to be, it recognised the gesture the human was making. When it stumbled again, a dagger of pain shooting through its calf, the creature caught itself on Tur'enne, one huge hand falling on her shoulder -

[Vega Van-Derveld]

*flash*

The Nelvaanian roared, raking black claws through the air, barely a hairs breadth away from blinding its opponent. He – she – dodged backwards and punched a pale hand forward, the power of the Dark Side lashing out from his fingertips and sending the creature hurtling back over a railing – but rather than flipping end over end to its death in the bowels of the facility below, the Nelvaan slammed a hand against the rail and swung itself back onto the walkway, where its spear lay close to hand. The weapon jumped into its hands and, with the point aimed low, it charged towards him – her – “Yes. Give in to your rage, animal!”


*flash*

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

The sharp gasp that left her caught in her throat, choked by the cold. Every muscle in her body tightened, threatening to cramp upon themselves. The next breath was forced slowly, breathing out as she looked to the creature. Her mind was still stumbling over what she had seen, replaying it over and over again as it had done with the previous (and she cringed at the very concept of the word) visions.

"You're a force user." There was a question there, but it only stood as an undertone to the overall statement. Her voice remained low, focused at the creature despite the guess that it wouldn't understand her. The words after all, were more said for her benefit. There could be excuses and other reasons made up from that little fact, all of it taking the idea that she had to be going mad and throwing it out the airlock. Charles could accept that, could blame everything that was happening on an untrained force user rather than, well, herself.

Her head nodded once and she moved closer to the creature, draping its arm over her shoulder. "Well just do me a favor and keep that weird crap to yourself, okidokie?"

Charles finally looked back to her partner and nodded towards the creature's other arm. "Don't think we have much of a choice other than to try." It was an overdue answer to Dash's question but she figured he'd understand.

Another glance was given at the creature, a small wave of sympathy knotting her stomach. "We can't just leave him here, that's for sure. Whoever did all this will come back for him."

[Dashiel Starborn]

And us, Dash added, as a mental note to himself. He slid himself under the creature's arm, wrinkles creasing his features as he shouldered his share of the alien's ungainly weight and began to shuffle through the facility's darkened corridors.

“So much for the Council's technical malfunctions...”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"The Council can eat it." Charlotte grumbled and let out a sudden and quick laugh at her outburst.

"Truth of the matter is, we've got as much information as we're going to by looking around. Big guy here should be able to fill in the details when we get to a proper translator." If he survives. It had to be left unsaid. There was enough gloom and doom about them without adding to it with her usual sarcastic negative flare.