A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

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Admiral Breetai
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by Admiral Breetai » Thu May 09, 2013 2:15 am

so i spend a few months buried in work and life and return to find you outdoing me in the horror department? for this a founder is going to eat a bunch of orphans...again

No but seriously, the Admiral awesome, Krevin awesome

"light 'em up" and the thing being sufficiently pissed off at energy weapons? Awesome

also preo man we miss your story

*off to read khas and sonofs other work*

Admiral Breetai
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by Admiral Breetai » Tue May 14, 2013 5:47 am

By the way I want to say something

preo compares some of the stuff we toss out to Tolkien, I don't deserve it but you do, a lot of time I;m wondering why I bother to keep updating the tidesverse my skills are meager and amateurish by comparison

keep up the good work

Praeothmin
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by Praeothmin » Tue May 14, 2013 1:13 pm

Admiral Breetai wrote:By the way I want to say something

preo compares some of the stuff we toss out to Tolkien, I don't deserve it but you do, a lot of time I;m wondering why I bother to keep updating the tidesverse my skills are meager and amateurish by comparison

keep up the good work
You channel Tolkien in scope, while sonofccn channels him in prose...
If you stop updating, I'll never finish my story...
You are warned... :-P

sonofccn
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by sonofccn » Tue May 14, 2013 7:48 pm

Well its no space dinosaur but you did inspire me Breetia. Another tidbit while I try and shake off the mental cobwebs.

He shouted “Back!” then shoved me clear of the monstrous thing, deliberately shooting it to gain its attention and draw it away. And in that moment I saw the Commodore for who he was, not the drunken playboy of scuttlebutt but a champion, a hero, like Vader or Tharangar.” Excerpt of SubCommander Winthrop’s debriefing of the incident.

Talon-II, Corridor-

“ If I shot one of the Stormtroopers in the leg…” Krevin, forever thankful for the impromptu cardiovascular exercises from his boyhood, silently mused edging past the most rearward of the armored warriors.

Rejecting the notion nearly as quickly as it came, not only had he no assurance the beast would dally with the injured soldier but he was still between the weapon bores’ of the rest of the fireteam and the creature. A single missed shot would be so easy to explain and even if it wasn’t, the Commodore wouldn’t be around to enjoy their execution.

But, experienced as he was with it, running was hardly a more long lived alternative. Pain already nibbling down his legs while the first smoldering ember of a fire took root in his chest, the prelude to worse affronts while the creature itself recovered and renewed from the wounds Krevin had inflicted like it was a stubbed toe. New legs, damp and slick, bursting from opening pouches in its scabby armor. Hitting the deck plate in awful symmetry to the galloping of its remaining limbs taking back what momentum the Commodore’s careful pruning had stole from it. No hesitation, no fatigue, creeping in its mad, singular pursuit to murder and slaughter the objects of its wrath.

The only outcome if he pursued his current endeavor burning to fruition in the microcosm of his mind, Krevin seeing him falling, snared, and dragged towards the polymorph. Broken apart by mucus dripping claws, freshly spawned from its cancerous flesh, then rendered sinew puckering into razor fanged mandibles. A fate which stirred a moderate increase in the Commodore’s gait and even more in his ablaze mind. Dividing its focus between continuing to harry the beast, sniping off legs or atomizing a limb, and ransacking its depth for a more agreeable alternative. Scouring his environs for any advantage as he plied through the list, constructing and eviscerating scenarios at rate he’d wager would impress even a tactical droid.

Noting the section number laser sculpted into the bulkhead of the nameless gangway he knew with a solitary, properly worded order he could seal the area off with blastdoors and flood the interior with anything between sleeping toxin to nerve agent. But without a helm he’d be equally vulnerable to the ship’s defense protocols, meant to help repel borders, and it was doubtful even CN-20 would permanently put the beast down. The same if he’d vented the atmosphere all together, equally fatal to him as nerve toxin, no telling how long its adaptive system could sustain it. Long enough to tear through a blastshield? With a stronger and more complex worded order he could he could alter one of the very fabrics of the Universe, gravity. The artificial generators beneath the cold gray deck plating capable of increasing ten, twenty maybe thirty fold. Enough to crush its entire body mass to a pulp. It would wreck the surrounding infrastructure, burn out the generators, but even that…thing…would have to perish from ordeal. Wouldn’t it? But decoupling the right segment grav-plating from the numerous and myriad safeties meant to prevent such an action in time to ensnare the beast and prevent himself from perishing along with it would almost be impossible.

“I’m aboard a fething Imperial Star Destroyer, one of the mightiest ships in existence. I refuse to be helpless to an overblown globule of pus!” He snapped, eyes suddenly widening as a new possibility dazzled before his eyes.” Yes…that might work.”

Even if it didn’t kill the creature it would get the two of them apart, get him away from it and safely heading back towards the Judgment where he had to deal with no worse then the irate mutant fish man. Of course, to survive it, he’d need his own helmet. The thought blistering to the forefront of his nimble and lithe brain as he caste longingly envious asides to the surrounding Stormtroopers. Picking the scent of opportunity in the most rearward and slowest of the armored troopers, the man’s muffled gasps for breath audible through his helm, the Commodore slowed his gait ever so much and made effort to circle towards him.

“We don’t have time to play with this bantha fether, Trooper.” Krevin, managing to keep the petrified fear from his face and voice, boomed appearing at the soldier’s side and directing a concentrated fusillade at the creature’s regenerating spider legs.” Drop your bead and rip its underpinnings out, buy us time to regroup with the reinforcements.”

What reinforcements, if any, he left purposely vague. But it sounded like what the square jawed heroes said on the Holovids and it was what the soldier needed to hear. A certain vitality returning to his already well exhausted body as he pivoted his helm partway to include Krevin.

“Commodore?” He wheezed, perhaps seeing who had joined their ramshackle entourage for the first, before with a resolving of his mettle dipped the fire of his blaster down at the creature’s legs causing it to stumble.

A momentary respite but an extremely visible one, one which granted false hope and buoyed the Stormtrooper, whom the Commodore dryly noted wore the markings of a squad Sergeant, as the two of them resurged towards the remainder of the fire-team. Ingrating himself to the trained and taunt-knit killers the way mere commanding brass couldn’t, making it all the more likely to have the Sergeant or one of his peers would relinquish their protective helm to him.

“So what’s the situation? Some kind of boarding or mutant Dianoga from a garbage compactor?” Krevin, surprised at his own cordialness, asked with flippant lightness as their bolts tore into the beast’s underside.

The cascade added to by the fire-team, following the Sergeant’s initiative and command, annihilating the newly forming appendages as each burst open in scalding steam sustaining and adding to the gain they’d wrestled from the hobbled creature. Krevin even, as he saw the great bulk hunker protectively against the bulkhead using its bony mass a shield, allowing a flicker of hope they could all escape it. Not that he wouldn’t take a helm for himself, even delusionally hopeful he wasn’t that stupid.

“Feth if I know, fether was waiting for us in a medical suite angry as a rancor and we didn’t improve it much.” The Sergeant gasped, the years and weight of his gear still gnawing at him, signaling against all reason for his squad to stop and hammer the now halted mass.

Which was the beyond the last thing Krevin wanted to do, even if it was dead he wanted to separate himself by at least a few hundred thousand kilometers if he could help it. But, if worst came, he still wanted a helm and more to it he didn’t fancy running back into the thing without Stomtrooper support however meager it was. Besides, as he silently chanted to himself like a protective ward, as long as they kept their distance and shot its legs out from under he’d have time to scramble away from it. Through, having scraped against the vile whims of the cosmos more times than he could count, he should have known better.

“The blighter doesn’t stop, every time we lick it the blasted fether gets a new trick.” Sergeant Dixon, spying new fractures form on the beast’s outershell as new growths took shape, warned reaching for a thermal detonator.” We need a fething E-WEB or other heavy ordinance. I’ve yelled at Command but…”

“I have some pull with them.” Krevin, zealously firing like the rest into malleable mass, offered with what he hoped was the right amount of whimsical.” If I can borrow your com-link I might be able to get the neutronium out of their arse.”

Dixon, no doubt preferring to his scalp peeled off then part with his protective helm, offering a noncommittal reply with the oozing sore blistered upon the beast’s cratered back. An oily, seeping, leathery sack rising up from a sea of polished bonemeal the undulating, pulsating lump resembled nothing so much as a single, elongated nostril. Streamers of ichor and matted material dribbling from the bristling orifice as its newly minted muscles contracted for the first time. Testing the industrial strength of their fibers it shrunk and contracted, wriggled sinew crinkling, winding them taunt to the breaking point. Then it relaxed them all allowing the coiled muscular to spasm once in a giant shudder.

“Feth me.” Krevin whispered as with a snorted blow the fleshy nodule exploded outward with a bony javelin.

A red stained leering skull, vaguely human in shape, attached to a chorded line of tongue like material which shot whistling through the parting air with its own gurgling shriek. A wet dripping sound, like from beneath the murky depths of a bog, it flowed through your ears and foamed around your brain trying to drown it. A nasty, malevolent noise like the chittering and clicking of Megarachnids, that which rose up from the missile it parted between the evading Commodore and the Sergeant. Latching on, by its lower jaw unfurling into barbed mandibles, instead to a third trooper. The bone spurs it sported hooking deep, red blood forming on the edges of the armor, and anchoring as the elastic, flesh line of its turn rigid and snapped it and its quarry back. Krevin, spraying fire at the additional protrusions taking shape, panning his head to observe the passing Stormtrooper when the sharp edge of the luckless soldier’s weapon caught him across the side of his unprotected face. Causing the world to swim and swerve around the Commodore as he fought for purchase, latching onto for support the blurry armored figure he spotted in the weaving haze with single mindedness that would have made a battledroid proud. Only to realize his error as he felt his legs pulled out from under him, his slamming knees dragged painfully across the deck in the wake of the ensnared Stormtrooper.

His vision regrettably clearing in that instant, perhaps driven by primal survival urges, allowing him to see the beast’s head poke up from beneath his craggy body like a beetle's and split open into a dark, dagger toothed line gullet for the pair of morsels rocketing towards it…

To be continued...

*
Praeothmin wrote:I hope you don't mind if I added this very short passage to your chapter... :)
Mama always said working for the Empire was like a proton bomb, you never know when it will blow up in your face.

Or, if you'll allow me to mix movie refrences, rule number 1:Cardio ;)
Admiral Breetai wrote:preo compares some of the stuff we toss out to Tolkien
And I would say of the three of us you best match the tone/feel of Tolkien's work. The Epic good versus evil, the larger than life heroes and villians.

Praeothmin
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by Praeothmin » Tue May 21, 2013 2:08 pm

Very nice, I don't know why I didn't comment when I read it last week... O_O?

sonofccn
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by sonofccn » Mon Jun 10, 2013 11:48 am

Regretfully due to some RL issues arising I'm afraid I'm going to have to take a reprieve for the next few weeks. Which admittedly won't be much of a drop compared to my current output but still. Until then Preao, Breetia, Khas its been an honor.

Praeothmin
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by Praeothmin » Mon Jun 10, 2013 12:47 pm

I hope it's nothing serious?
Just RL being its usual bitch, but nothing too bad, hopefully?

sonofccn
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by sonofccn » Mon Jun 10, 2013 4:33 pm

Praeothmin wrote:I hope it's nothing serious?
Just RL being its usual bitch, but nothing too bad, hopefully?
Nah, just a lot of little things really. I'll be back boring you with lurid, incomprehensiable drabble in no time. :)

Praeothmin
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by Praeothmin » Wed Jun 12, 2013 1:03 am

Can't wait... :)

Admiral Breetai
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by Admiral Breetai » Mon Jun 17, 2013 3:53 am

y-you crap out on us right when Krevin is facing some horrific monstrosity spawned from Cthulus mind after he OD's on acid?

why!!!

also comparing Thanagar to Vader...you honor me

return soon

sonofccn
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by sonofccn » Mon Jun 24, 2013 7:25 pm

“…begun trials on Satyr and Cultium samples. The vegetative Cultim show remarkable vulnerability on both the microcellular and macro environs with the bacterium based Satyr more able to coordinate and literally devour their opposition. Some, minor, deficiencies have been recorded through. Heighten aggression, above even their intolerable standards, increased frequency and duration of appetite as well as subtle retardation of their innate recuperative properties. All consistent with control cases rationed to a non-meat diet, possibly an issue of protein assimilation. I recommend further testing through Doctor Taylor has so far been resistant feeling it is outside the scope of our mandate and purpose…” Excerpt of Doctor W. Herbert audio log concerning Project Orpheus.

Talon-II, one point three meters and decreasing towards the face of hell-

Regrettably through the long years of service Jack Krevin had been become far more acquainted with death’s rigidly cold embrace than the he ever had with the dancing girls of Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet, through not for lack of effort, whether it be in the ravenous form of chittering Megarachnids, howling Wookiee pirates or, in one case, a completely fethed up Sith Sorcerer. He’d ridden burning shuttles safely to the ground, traded blaster fire in claustrophobic tunnels with mutants or worse, waged grinding war in cities crumbling to dust around him and a thousand other wrenching moments whose recollection quickened his heart and made him long for a nip of brandy.

From these he determined that if not a full personified force the Galaxy was ordained and ruled by some greater power or being. And it wasn’t fond of him, gleefully contriving sadistic challenges over and over again for him to face, a feeling he was all too happy to reciprocate.

Before him, time’s passage telescoping to his frenzied senses, he pondered the latest piece in the long and convoluted game between him and his opponent of fate. His addled mind struggling and failing to find some symmetry or conformity in it’s heaving mass, some pattern to catalog and identify that which dragged him across the deck plate. But for naught, the thing’s features too transitory, too fleeting. Its whole mass in a perpetual war of renewal, its grayish body undulating and swelling like an ocean’s crest even as its rigid shell grew thicker plated. From underneath its reshaping interior crawled its bulbous head, a scaly protrusion of hard sinew and leather which split an oozing seam straight down its middle and unfurled horizontally open. Mottled gums, a discolored brackish hue, shriveling back to make room for the curved daggers worming their way up from the necrotic flesh. From beneath its bloated, “smashed anvil” shaped body new brawny limbs, tipped with Nexu like paws, tore themselves free and snaked out beneath its slobbering maw to bat and pin its approaching prey.

That is Krevin and the luckless Stormtrooper for whom the barbed bone-hook was embedded, the latter of whom now desperately clutching at the Commodore as he’d, mistakenly, grabbed at the passing warrior. An iron like grapple which, from as much instinct as experience, Krevin knew would be pointless to try and break. The precious moments, all which remained as events spiraled into one another, it would take to bash the man’s hands off of him, or Emperor forbid use his blaster at such proximity, would see him in either pulled into the creature’s fanged gullet or shredded by its newly minted talons. Even disregarding that, Dixon seeing one of his own so brutalized wouldn’t be the most receptive. And what was a stray blaster bolt amid all the confusion?

Instead, struggling against both his unwanted passage and the ministrations of his equally unneeded partner, the Commodore snapped his blaster to the whirling, spongy matter of the whip like tongue retracting within the interior of the craggy beast’s back. Firing a concise, thrice volley into the shimmering, soft meat. The weapon’s discharge, having learned by hard experience to kick the power setting to its absolute maximum, revolting beautiful as the struck segment of the slimy appendage explosively dissolved. Dispersed filaments and cilia of matter igniting as embers in a fiery cloud as the line was severed. One gushing end shriveling from sight within the creature in one pained jerk while the other dropped to the floor spraying sickening paste and pus.

A success Krevin followed up, as he wiggled out from the wounded and still hooked Stormtrooper, by lobbing a few more blasts at the polymorphic creature’s more vulnerable looking spots hoping to keep it distracting enraged while he got to his feet. And than run straight out the hull, through naked space to the waiting Judgment if he had his druthers and could stay a step or three ahead of the mutating terror.

At his rising feet the struck Stormtrooper rolled onto his side as he reached around the small of his back to the hooked skull, which still twitched with perverse life gnawing deeper into the man’s sinew, then abandoning it to its perch added his fusillade to the Commodore’s. Not half as precise and crippling, far more a hectic scattering of blaster bolts, but painful enough for the ones which hit the beast’s under armored “head”. Swatches of rough hewn muscle and grizzled leather scales hissing incinerating as the creature bellowed, a trumpeting squealing noise, and buckingly dove its head beneath its armored flanks and lobbed forward. Outstretched taloned feet gobbling the intervening breadth in a heartbeat, or what Krevin surmised as one seeing as he felt his heart stop at the sight, swiping at the half risen Stormtrooper one of its paws. Scythe like hooks rending through the off-white armor to a crimson mess as well as forcing the warrior back down with enough force to add further furrows to his plastoid carapace.

In return, fueled by equal measures panicked fright and sheer adrenalin, the soldier caught the offending limb in a snap-shot blizzard of bolts hacking it messily apart as he kicked and pinned another in place. Raking his fire over the struggling appendage as he struggled to sit up once again, indifferent to the pulpy vestiges of his own viscera which threatened too amble outward from the effort, prolonging and continuing his doomed fight.

One which Krevin should have gratefully exploited, would have but for the shrewd realization the fatally injured Stormtrooper held the keys to his own salvation. Indeed despite which the higher portions of the Commodore’s intellect wished nothing more than to go gallivanting down the corridor at a break neck pace and mentally cringed as the body obeyed the cunning animalistic lower depths of his intelligence. Bending knee over the struggling Stormtrooper, a hand snaking out over his shoulder and beneath the edge of his helm.

Quickening his pace from both urgency and soul disquieting dread as the creature, lurching upwards slightly, in spit and rage at the tooth and nail fighting Stormtrooper ruptured its underside into a puckered mouth. A fat, toad like tongue distending rope like around his legs which a moment before had been braced against hard, if churning, flesh. Entwining around both kicking limbs and expunging the digestive enzymes it was soaked with which began their work even as his scattering shots pockmarked and charred the sensitive organ. Plastoid armor crinkling and flaking away as if sprayed with molecular acid, the skin underneath turning ruinous and sloughing from the stained bones to be lapped and absorbed by the continuing to encircle up the Stormtrooper’s body.

That grisly vista burning itself in the Commodore’s sight as he pulled his arm back stealing the helmet from its perch. Preparing to run with his prize, clutched tightly to his chest, while the engrossed creature finished its meal only to catch sight of the dissolving soldier’s face upturned towards him. Taunt, pain etched, his lips pressed tighter than neutronium leaving only his bulging eyes to beg at Krevin. And despite the screaming of his higher rationality, despite the obvious proximity to a denizen of the deepest pit, it was a request the officer answered. Training the muzzle of his blaster pistol between those imploring eyes.

“Emperor be with you.” He whispered pulling the trigger.

Watching, to ensure he didn’t botch it, but at full discharge there was little fear of that. The man’s face vanished, flash boiled into steam which scalded bitingly at Krevin, which much of the interior becoming a boiling soup. Any lingering trace of the man removed the Commodore drew back his weapon and turned preparing to bolt for his feeble life when he was manhandled by an arm as strong as any Wookiee he’d grappled with, a most unpleasant experience, and was hauled almost child like away from the still devouring beast.

Recognizing his rescuer as Sergeant Dixon, and forebodingly realizing his previous act of assassination, he attempted to break forth from his grasp and was even contemplating drawing back towards the monstrosity when the NCO spoke instantly becalming him.

“You couldn’t have saved him sir, not even the Lord Vader could have…” He consoled, mistaking the source of the Commodore’s anxiety.

And perhaps had he been there the Dark Lord might have attempted to save the Trooper or at least tackle the creature directly. But , as he’d come to terms with over the extent of his life, he wasn’t Vader or Skywalker or any of the copious other heroes whose blood the Empire seemed to lubricate and sustain itself on. Perhaps once, when foolish and young, but no more. Now his concerns were far more pragmatic and centric.

“Nothing lost to try.” The Commodore offered in what he hoped was heroic flippantly.” Have any thermal detonators?”

“A couple, but the bugger’s hide meaner than a Rancor. It’ll barely slow it down.” The Sergeant, still misunderstanding, said with a nod of his hand shifting to grab another from his utility belt.

“Wasn’t thinking of that.” Krevin said with a shake of his head, explaining his plan, as the beast finished its reprieve and resumed its stalking charge.

Taloned feet, stygian claws harder than iron, clashing against the durasteel plating of the deck as it galloped despite its immense and crushing bulk. A new head, horned and crested with thick ridges, emerging from beneath it. Its lower jaw unfurling in a webbing of jointed mandibles as it stretched forward from the body after its quarry. Twin sacks underneath its wrinkled throat swelling up with likely most disagreeable substances to spray from it while it’s back arched as a new skull-hook prepared to fire.

A brief glimpse of all of which far more than sufficient to stiffen Krevin’s resolve, the Commodore pulling ahead of Dixon and veering through the passage for the first open compartment. Shouting for the others to follow as he barreled through the barren archway and slung immediately to the side the door’s manual controls. Holding there as the bedraggled Stormtroopers bustled through, Dixon last spraying and cursing violently as he weaved past a curdling fountain of digestive fluid and back peddled through the opening. Which immediately slid shut and sealed against the stampeding hulk with ungainly pivoted as it raced past to follow. Its hideous trumpeted bellow melding with the screaming protest of the thin metal alloy of the door as its full weight against it. The durasteel bending inward towards the retreating Commodore then started to viciously sweat and sag like half melted wax as the creature’s corrosive bile did its work. All together the obstacle buying but precious more seconds than flat out running would have.

But that was all Krevin needed slamming his pilfered helmet over his head and cycling it from its pre-assigned squad channel to the ship’s general. Rewarded an instant later by stiflingly bored, but huskily seductive, woman’s voice in his ear.

“This is Coordinator Bauer, to whom are you attempting to reach?” She inquired with professional detachment which was about to be shattered quiet rudely.

“You have no idea how pleasurable it is to hear your voice Coordinator.” Krevin sung, continuing to back away from the dissolving bulkhead.” This is the Commodore, vocal-Ident should confirm that assertion, and I need you to back-trace and isolate this signal.”

“The Commodore…” He heard Bauer stop herself short, incredulousness competing with professionalism.”…Yes sir. Tracking you down now sir. The purpose of which, if I may ask?”

If she hadn’t he’d have told her, perhaps sprinkled with a pungent oath or ten as he watched the mandibles of the beast protrude through and began to push apart what remained of the door like it was made of flimsy. The residue of destructive bile regrettably insufficiently effective against iron hard carapace, only the thinnest of furrows burned into it widened the gap enough to fit through.

“Of course, I need the blastshields surrounding the immediate area sealed. Total lockdown, all doors, everything. And I need full life support shut down for the next couple of minutes.” Krevin, surprising himself once again with his apparent calmness, sweetly ordered with a cautious eye towards Dixon and his men.

Having retreated to the room edge, dominated by a crystalline window view of the gulf of space, they now bolstered around Commodore once more as the beast lumbered in. The walls on either side bulking and fraying as it squeezed through, body mass shifting and redistributing to ease the burden.

“As you wish sir.” Bauer answered diligent if still unsure of what was happening.

Across the afflicted area lights suddenly dimmed, air circulators ceased up and more importantly Krevin felt the familiar tinge of nausea as the gravity below his feet shifted and dimmed. The faux bond of the Grav-Generators, shunted from power, eroding with supraliminal speed. None of which bothered the thing, rearing up on newly forming haunches as it drove lengthen claws up into the ceiling. Carving grooves across as it shambled forward, its underside turning hard and stony even as pustules sprouted and split open vomiting razor-lined tendrils. Each which writhed serpentine like towards the humans, encircling them. From across it body fanged mouths split open, each shrieking a hellish note of its rage filled dirge.

“Yeah, well Feth you too!” Krevin, sealing his helm, shouted back pointing his gun not at it but towards the crystalline window.

Specifically the thermal detonator adhered to it which went up in a cataclysm of white light. Its throaty roar however stifled and snuffed away by the banshee wail of escaping atmosphere as everything within the room was pulled out. But unlike the motley collection of humans, each snugly if not comfortably contained within their pressurized armor, the now soundless thing pantomiming shrieks, as well as vomiting blood as the last wisps of air were stolen from it, had no protection against the hard vacuum. No recourse against its blood frothing to a boil in the atmosphere-less void, no recombination available to it counter-act the effects. No alternatives or contingencies it could enact within the fleeting seconds of consciousness, of which passed with the weight of millenniums, no hope as its bitterly fought against its cruel fate. At last growing still, lifeless, as it continued drifting at a minute but measurable pace away from the Star Destroyer. Out through the ship’s protective screens and into the black gulf beyond, along with the battered remnant of a Stormtrooper squad plus Commodore.

Into the latter Bauer’s suddenly concerned and emotionally wretched voice came creeping, sounding so much louder and deafening now that he was cut off from virtually all other stimuli.

“Sir?! Sir! I’ve detected a massive atmosphere breach in your area! Sir? Sir!” She called out through the ether.” Can you read me! Please respond Sir!”

“I’m alive, you did well Ms. Bauer. You have my deepest gratitude.” He, enthusedly, answered.” But your concern is quite touching and appreciated none the less.”

Earning from Bauer a string of her laughter, tinkling notes which Krevin decided were the most wondrous sounds as he drifted the soundless void, and let him see a little more of the woman behind the professional.

“It wouldn’t have looked good to loose the Commodore on his first visit, now would it Sir?” She answered him warmly.” Your signal is a little weak but I should be able to track you down. Just might take a few minutes to calibrate the outer sensors to find you.”

“No need to hurry, I appear not to have anything else to do.” Krevin relayed panning his head to his companions.” Through along with a shuttle I need a Tie Bomber launched. They’ll be a significant bio-signature besides myself and my colleagues. I want that hit with a proton torpedo, utter vaporized.”

“Yes Sir. Anything else?”

“You can call me Jack if you wish Ms. Bauer, for the immediate future I don’t think I’m a Commodore of anything.” He answered trying to at last relax and loosen muscles which had been tensed since the ordeal started.” Besides my life is in your hands, if I can’t be humble now when can I be?”

“Thank you Si-Jack. Do you require anything else?” She repeated, hints of blushing in her voice.

“Well I’d like a drink with my men to celebrate a victory after we’re back on ship.” The Commodore intoned.” After which, Ms. Bauer, I’d like to shake your hand. For saving our necks and everyone else when I decompressed that section.”

“Thank you.” She answered with an indecisive pause before rushing ahead.” It’s Hannah, Jack, not Ms. Bauer. If that is not too informal…for you.”

“Not at all, prefer it. Formality, in my experience, cement a certain unattachedness.” He assured, slowly spun around through the weightlessness of space.

Allowing him an eagle view as a particular patch turned cloudy than solidified from spectral shadows into a carbuncled and pitted shipwright. Its ethereal hull gathering substance as it glided to halt some score of so kilometers from Krevin’s position. Which was about a million too close for his tastes.

“Really?” He sighed craning his head “upwards” towards the black expanse.” You’re throwing that on top too?”

“Jack? What was that? My sensor feed is going crazy…”

“Hannah, about that drink with boys…I think I’m going to have to postpone that.” He answered her with a tired air." Something appears to have come up."

Praeothmin
Jedi Master
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Location: Quebec City

Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by Praeothmin » Fri Jun 28, 2013 12:29 am

Krevin's never gonna get a break, will he?

Loved it... :)

Admiral Breetai
Starship Captain
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by Admiral Breetai » Mon Jul 01, 2013 7:25 am

loved the shout out to the Thing, Krevin acquitted himself like a boss, Thanagar would be honored to have him in his fleet.

I wonder if Bauer has a thing for Krevin...

also also Im'pec the tyrant slayer killer of mad gods, silver handed has a message for Krevin

hahah! Excellent! Excellent!! I dub thee Krevin "slayer of demons!" may you feast well and honor the fallen

sonofccn
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by sonofccn » Tue Jul 02, 2013 6:33 pm

Short update with Sylph returning. Hope you like it.

“ I remember the car skidding on the rain slick road, the feeling of vertigo as it flipped followed by a sudden pressure to the side of my head and neck then the most grisly snapping sound I ever heard. Everything went dark after that…so dark…only for me to awaken in a moldering back slit gown caked in rotting, gray sepulcher dirt being cradled in the arms of {Name Redacted}.” Sylph explaining her “condition” to Director Hoover during her application to the then Bureau of Investigations.

Talon-II, Hanger bay-

“So what do you think the alarm was about?” Stormtrooper Vesk asked with a strict mixture of weary boredom and detached interest.

Tall and wide of breadth enough that he barely fit inside his phase III tactical armor the powerful trooper stood at the hanger entrance like some mythic guardian of the underworld.

“Who cares?” Grumbled his helmet less peer, leaning against the door’s edge as he slipped a deathstick over his lips, before reconsidering with a look towards his partner.” Nothing on the channels?”

Shorter but with a harder, more knotted muscular and the tanned bronze of a Badlander, Clement further distinguished himself from his clean and Spartan associate with his scrawling on his Phase III armor. Where as Vesk’s was bright and trim as newly down snow the aggravating Colonial’s was covered in grubby glyphs more fitting of a street-juvie than a member of the Emperor’s fist.

“Tactical feeds are dry.” Vesk answered cycling through his helm once again.” Whatever it is their keeping it closed-linked.”

“As long as they keep me fething out of it, I reckon I can let them be.” His partner drawled, loosening an igniter from his utility belt.” Come on, its likely a malfunction. The fething Commodore is onboard. Do you really think old starch pants would let anything tawdry happen while he’s here?”

Not that the Captain would permit half of what daily happened in the shadow of his command of course but special care would be taken while the Squadron Commander was aboard. And after all a Star Destroyer was a sealed city-state unto itself, nothing was about to get in without first going through the deflector screens and outer hull and there was no way they could have hidden that.

“I read you, its just that-hang on. Something new just scrolled up…” Vesk, going from mild interest to fascination, noted excitedly.

Raising a gloved hand to the side of his helm to help steady it as he turned towards his fellow Stormtrooper, reciting the atmospheric containment failure warnings flashing before his retinas.

“There’s been a breech, an entire compartment vented.” He needlessly translated as his friend gestured for his attention.

“Which is fascinating but ya need to shut it off.” Clement drawled rising up from his perch against the wall.

“There’s a hole in the ship, we could be under attack by Merikans or Xenos. There could be boarders streaming in as we speak in Vac-suits and you want me to switch it off. What if they are heading our way, what do we do then?” The taller stormtrooper exasperatedly complained.

“Because ya going to need both peepers for this.” The shorter one, his crooked lips holding his death stick twisting into a sneering smile, remarked pointing at the approaching figure.” Have a look for yourself.”

I. Pretty Woman- Roy Orbison

Which Vesk did, immediately closing any overlaying screens or message feeds which could hamper, however minimally, his vision of the woman walking towards them with regal grace. An effort of some obvious difficulty and force due to the stygian haired woman wearing the swaddling trunks of the Bacta tanks and one fething hell of a smile. A venomously sweet one which seemed to draw Vesk in and swallow him as she stepped right up to him, hand playing gently across the side of the blaster carbine he raised to an angle just off side of her.

“Restricted access Ma’am…if you have a clearance code…” He stammered, throat caught just a little.

“Son, I don’t think she’s interested in the shuttlebay.” Clement, inhaling deeply from his deathstick, chortled stepping admiringly beside Vesk.” Are you, Sweetheart?”

The Colonial never believing in the wild scuttlebutt which surrounded the Commodore, of his trysts which would make Admiral Thanagar proud. But staring at the fetchingly lovely and clearly chem-drunk out of her mind joygirl he was abruptly prepared to fervently change his opinion. Along with his cosmic positioning at the bottom of fate’s deck.

“Not just right now.” She cooed stretching her other hand to stroke the weathered cheek of the Colonial and tug the battered face warrior into the embrace of a kiss.” Think I’m hankering for something closer at hand. Powerful and solidly built.”

Which Clement, as well as a struggling to undo his tongue tied Vesk, would had gladly offered suggestions on where to find what she was looking for hadn’t her hand dipped from his leathery cheek to slip around his chorded neck. Curving back around towards itself in a durasteel strong lock which squashed any air as she pulled him over and buried his face into her shoulder. Her other hand, still stroking the blaster, equally suddenly encircling around the barrel as she painfully wrenched it from the stunned shocked Vesk’s hand. His eyes, behind the visor of his helm, growing as large as saucers as the woman coolly flipped the lethal set weapon around and caught it one handed, raising it appraisingly and gaining a feel for its heft in the same motion.

“This will do.” She concluded swinging it as a bludgeon into Vesk’s face with the force to split plastoid.

Chewy-eared fragments flying, along with sparks thrown from frayed wiring, from the deepening fissure as the Stormtrooper was knocked back, fumbling for balance as the female assailant curved towards the struggling, against her and for breath, Colonial and dashed the weapon’s edge against the bared knot of his head. Unadorned and without protection she immediately felt the shift and increased drag of his weight as he became slacken, like a bag of ground meal which she let fall to the deck with a muted thud. Her attention rolling back towards the larger of the pair who was still in mid convolution fighting for purchase and balance. Half blind from his broken mask and undoubtedly reeling from her first blow he made no effort to stop the lithe strike of her foot’s base into his knee.

Armor, and maybe something else, breaking as he suddenly cursed profanely and clutched a hand at the backwards bending joint. Still, straddling and falling backwards on one leg, he kept the presence of mind to throw, however poorly, a clenched fist in her direction. One she evaded by regressing momentarily from him, stalking around the side of him as he slung off his broken helmet. A furious face, its nose bent and bleeding, scowlingly following her as he sat up.

Toying experimentally with his shattered limb he then, sliding his hand from over it to the floor, catapulted himself towards him. His hand snaking its way underneath her legs to topple her, no doubt planning to rely on his bulk to wedge her down as he wailed on her with all the skill of a tantrum throwing four year old. Instead he caught the blurred afterimage of her flight, a haze shadow which nimbly rocketed towards his approaching mass and tackled him. Her knee slamming into him like a proton torpedo as it found his throat, collapsing it shut and much more if its owner had willed it. Instead she was content to watch him writhe beneath her like some addled serpent, pinning his arms as if they were staked to the deckplate, as he shifted the most wondrous shades of colors. Only then, after he’d grown still and she was confident of its sincerity, did she release him. Picking back up the discarded blaster, never more than a hand width from her, as she rose and made her way towards the nearest of waiting shuttles.

II. Welcome to the jungle-Guns and Roses

She was going up its tongue like ramp when she heard the flutter and the onyx coat landed at her feet, an item she regarded detachedly as she looked back at the equally black-coated figure standing over the two Stormtroopers’ bodies. Through he, a venerable craggy faced man, also had a faded, wide brimmed hat.

“Like the villains in the Westerns.” Sylph thought to herself with an inward smile as she turned to face him, flowingly bending down to get the thrown article as she did so.

“Its your choice. But Emperor knows I wouldn’t want to be dragged half through the ship unclad as the day I was born.” The Man in Black answered flatly when she gestured it towards him.

“That is considerate of you. And it is a bit drafty in here.” She answered with genuine honesty as she slipped it on.” Through out of humble curiosity how did you track me? The Clockwork could have easily have informed you of my existence but that was on the other side of the ship. And then there’s Legion to worry about.”

“Actually it’s quite simple.” The man answered slowly, so as not to arouse fear or concern on Sylph’s part, reaching into a pocket of his coat and producing a datapad.” Following my predecessor’s disastrous handling I coated each body with a radiogenic element which internal sensors could easily track. You are, after all, hardly my first Changeling.”

“ The simple things work best don’t they?” She laughed, to the agreement of the man.” So let’s not make this complicated.”

“No, let’s keep it simple.” The Man in Black agreed thumbing his datapad.

Protected from its resultant ultrasonic squeal of the subterfuge weapon by his concealed earbuds unlike Sylph whose radiant face momentarily broke into panged anguish before her body fell atop the shuttle’s ramp like string cut puppet. Letting her remain there for several more seconds, drowning in the acoustic assault, before he terminated the sonic weapon.

“Simple enough?” He asked the air, pocketing the datapad, creeping up to her slumped form.

Bending knee over her, scooping his gloved hands to tussle her over his shoulder like a knapsack, when the spongy looseness of her fame fell away like a morning shower and the hand still clutching the blaster popped purposely up to fill his vision. A vision turned bluish-white in the next breath, Parvis uttering a whispered curse as he recoiled to the side. His hat, singed, falling off of him and the leftward most side of his face feeling like he sprayed molten lead upon it.

Through there was little to dwell as Sylph followed up the intended killing shot with a flurry of blows. The first of which the Man in Black redirected from himself with transitory contact as he backpedaled, the second he stopped full on, the third through embedded itself into his chest with a painful “twange” of cracking bone and the fourth blow he aborted with a shot from his thermal pulse gun, thrown into up from his sleeve to his waiting palm by his whirring sin eater. A shot his opponet returned in kind, a second ball of plasma scorching a hole through front and back of his coat’s side as he twisted out of the way, throwing himself to the side of it as he slung his arm after the half glimpsed mirage of motion and fired several more concentrated beams of EM energy after it.

Only then, breathing hard in sharp and painful bellows, did he relent and scoop back up his hat and rest it on his scalded crown. Eyeing Sylph as she fingered the blacken hole carved through her shoulder, particularly when the flesh itself flowed back together reknitting itself.

“Complete cellular rejuvenation? I was curious why the paralyzer failed.” Parvis noted with interest and not a little pang of envy as he probed the blacken, strip of flesh where his left ear had been.

“Makes this complicated, doesn’t it?” She asked with a hint of a smirk.

“Not at all.” He answered back, drawing from the folds of his coat a saber handle which then blossomed into an ebony shadow-blade.” I just have to reduce you to larger chunks.”

To be continued...

Praeothmin
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Re: A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

Post by Praeothmin » Wed Jul 03, 2013 1:45 am

The man in black is impressive, I'll give him that...

Excellent, a always! :)

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