[right][h3]Collab Part 1 With Heat and Fallenreaper[/h3][/right]
[right]Location Jedi Ship[/right]
Drey’s breath became shallow now. His legs burned from the endless flat out run, but he couldn’t stop now. A blaster rifle cradled under his arm ready to aim. He rushed past the corridors as his wide eyes glanced down to the darkened ends. Faint outlines of shuffling and limping shapes distinguished themselves in the shadows. Their existence evidence of something inhuman at work. The thought drove him to bolt faster. 


In the distance, screams of mercs fell to the onslaught. Blood, fresh and old, smeared across the metal. Tale tell markings about struggle and failure to survive. Wet, smacking sounds echoed through the tight confines. More screams as the undead number increased from moments ago. Whatever darkness had been released, Drey didn’t want to experience it first hand. 


His mind focused on retracing his steps back to the extraction point. As he drew closer, he spotted his mask. Drey slowed long enough to bend down and scooped it up. He slipped it on to protect his face when something shambled around the corner ahead. His feet came to a stop and his arms jerked up, locking on the target. A sick feeling fell over the trooper when he got a good look at the thing before him. 


A thin Sith male stood before him rocking in place. Dark, bloody and tattered robes hung off the slack frame as it turned to face Drey. A ragged hole where the nose should’ve been, murky yellow eyes, and torn holes in the cheeks deformed the facial features beyond identification. Dark curly hair plastered onto the paste white forehead. A stain of fresh blood painted across the forehead down to the neck.      


 An inhuman scream erupted from bloodied teeth as it lunged for him. 


Drey’s finger tightened and three blasts shot into the creature’s head. Hissing globs of coagulated blood, bone and hair splattered across the wall then floor. The corpse fell backwards becoming still once more. Drey held his breath when he heard the sound. Numerous footsteps began to approach his direction. Most of them coming from the extraction location. 


“Fuck me…” Drey cussed.    


[hr]


With cautious yet confident footsteps Zes walked down the corridor, wordless movements as he took in the horrifying sounds that echoed through the war torn vessel. In each hand he clenched the handles of his lightsabers, his helmet hanging from his belt as he walked alongside the beautiful redheaded Sith who’d become his inadvertent partner in escaping the ship. He shifted to step over a trio of bodies, thankful that they were truly dead on the floor. The undead lurked in this forsaken Republic ship, the simple extraction mission having turned into something much more surreal. 


“Do you hear that?” He asked Tishombra as he lifted a hand to indicate they both stop in motion. The distinct sound of blasterfire bounced off the walls down a ways from them, but it was accompanied by the unnerving rumbles of reanimated footsteps. 


“The extraction is that way. So it seems we have to go towards that chaos,” Zes added, brows sinking as he’d rather avoid running into anymore of the undead monstrosities now haunting the hallways. “Try not to let them bite that pretty little face up. It’d be a tragedy to ruin that.” 


The flirtatious Sith turned and winked at Tishombra, then ignited both his weapons. The crimson red blades shot out with the telltale shimmer of lightsabers. The Force was still so cloudy, he could not make sense of anything. Even as someone who dwelled in the dark side of the Force he still felt chills go down his spine as he tried to make sense of everything. Still, the ever confident falleen was not frightened or at least did not allow himself to feel any fear. He’d wager he was the best swordsman on the ship, some Force filled zombies weren’t a threat to him.  


Tishombra tilted her head smirking.[color=orangered] “Do you see any scars, save for the proof of the fact that I was blessed with the caress of Force Lightning? No. Trust me no one touches me without my permission.”[/color] She watched him turn on his lightsabers.


Tishombra followed suit and flicked on her sabers. She grinned as the need to dance with death claimed her. She took more risks when she fought. Pushed harder. She loved it and was addicted to it. 


Turning the corner she saw a mob advancing. It was moving toward the new extraction point. There were people that were not Jedi that were reanimated. Enemy was enemy at this point. The only distinguishing factor was the purple Sorcery. Tishombra was glad she had worn the red leather. Not waiting for Zes she waded in.


Each strike blending into another. The melodies of the sounds of death. The strikes a rapid tattoo of sabers moving through armor or bone depending on the strike. Spin. Two down. Step. One more eviscerated as she moved toward the other side more worried about getting to the other side than how many went down.


The motions became repetitive and like clockwork.She was covered in blood from the times that she was unable to help it. She looked much more like a Sith Pureblood when in the heat of battle. Her smile a chillingly empty one that didn't match the heat in her eyes. The searing gaze checked on Zes a couple of time. Their eyes locked and she knew that they were likely thinking the same thing. If one or the other went down then they’d have a real opponent on their hands. Back to the fight she had just reached the otherside of the mass of bodies.




Through the hazy of emergency lights, Drey caught the faint purple glow. The contrast outlined them perfectly in the darkness. About thirty or so shambling corpses began to crowd toward the corridor’s entrance. Some wield blue, green or red lightsabers. Others downed allies. 

Drey’s weapon jerked up sending five bolts into the advancing mass. Three corpses crumbled, but only one stayed down. He began to make a tactical retreat. His foot stepped back as his blaster kept firing. Steady, precise shots tested what kept them down. 


Gradually his wild shooting began to follow a pattern. More head and chest shot with a few leg shots for anything shambling quicker than others. The corridor flicked with flashes of bright red light and distorted his shadow. He glanced backwards when he spotted two figures darting for his location. Their lightsabers revealing their Sith origins  and causing him to tense again. 


Zes followed Tishombra as the mob appeared before them. He lashed out and began carving anyone that lunged at him, together both the deadly Sith left behind a trail of broken, destroyed corpses. The falleen bounced through the hallway, not letting his feet stop as he swung and stabbed at his undead foes. Limbs and other dismembered body parts littered the floor, some of the undead monstrosities crawled pathetically around the corridor, those with arms reaching to grab the two darting Sith. Blood curdling screams echoed through the hall, as they did throughout the battle-torn vessel. 


As they broke through the horde, Zes took notice of another figure. A Sith aligned mercenary moving away from the encroaching mobs of dark side fueled zombies. A soldier that was actually alive and fighting for their life, he thought most of them had fallen in the chaos. He hollered out to the soldier, screaming loudly as he attempted to yell over the screams of the undead.


“Are you the last one alive? We need to get the hell off this ship.” He hollered, as he paused in stride having found a moment of peace. At the very least the soldier could act as a quality distraction.