Friend In Need

[Zach]

EDIT: OOC Thread: [CLOSED] Friend In Need (OOC)

Ruthric cracked his neck against the firm placement of his palm, releasing the built up tension that hyperspace seemed to leave him with. Ever since first joining the Sith, while losing his real right arm, the joints just seemed to build up and progress through the rest of his body. A small, but annoying price for the cybernetic arm he was given. He'd been meditating in one of the many training chambers within the Sith academy on Korriban when he'd felt a presence in the Force. He recognized the feeling, already familiar with the Force connection with Sogar, an Iktotchi Sith Marauder who he'd befriended before either of them had been promoted.

Sensing the Iktotchi's distance from the academy, Ruthric guessed that he'd just arrived from hyperspace, and would therefore shortly be arriving on one of the landing pads. Coming out of his trance of meditation while levitating, bringing down his legs to the floor and using Force Speed in a fluid motion, making his way over there as fast as possible. He couldn't place the feeling, but it felt as if a matter of urgency was at hand.

 

[Black Noise]

Sogar staggered out of the Refugee transport, pure, unbridled rage fueling him now. The stab wounds in his back were drastic, but he would live through them. He needed a bacta chamber, then to immediately consult the resident Sith master. He would need the Marauder status if he was going to rescue Anima. He sensed Ruthric coming, excellent, he would be perfect.

 

[Insanity]

Four days previous, two days after capture​

After some deliberation, the Jedi Council had decided that the captured Acolyte, who remained nameless, be transported to Tython for trial. Arrangements were made and a merchant's ship was loaned to the Order. The Dark-sider was escorted by three Jedi, one being his captor and two being Knights of the Order. While Anima hadn't been given most of his belongings back, nor his original suit that he had wore on arrival to Coruscant, he had been given a tunic of loose fitting to wear and his datapad, the latter by request and only after specialists had deemed nothing on it to be of issue, though the research it contained had disturbed some. Undoubtedly, the research they'd perused had been copied for future references and evidence for the trial and his crimes against fellow sentients. Then again, only if they deemed him impossible to redeem, which was considerably ambiguous due to his impassivity.

Thus, the trip was started. What the Jedi had not known was that the merchant that owned the ship had connections to the Sith and Empire, sending the information through secure channels back to Bastion, Korriban, Yavin IV, and Ziost. It was by these means that the two Marauders, Ruthric and Sogar, would learn of the movements and planned route for the merchant vessel.

Present, Fourteen Hyper-jumps from Tython​

Four days in space and the merchant vessel was fourteen jumps from from reaching Tython. The engines had, however, had a slight malfunction which the on-board astromech that maintained the ship was having particular difficulty with, though it never specified in what way. The emergency beacon had been included in that malfunction, resulting in an inability to call for aid. Until such time as the issue was resolved, the ship would drift. Anima remained secured in the crew quarters, all three Jedi given different watches over the prisoner. Things were in static for the time being, though for how long such a state would last remained questionable. Anima had, so far, remained perfectly impassive, neither trying to escape or even registering what was happening aboard the ship.

 

[MolotovCocktailParty]

Sorn shifted in his seat. The Council had opted to use a civilian transport freighter to ferry the Sith he had captured - Anima, his name was, or at least what he called himself; Sith had that weird habit of taking different names, so who knew what his name really was - to Tython for official trial, the logic being that it would attract less attention. This was clearly true. However, what it lacked in conspicuousness, the craft also lacked in weaponry. Sorn was a much bigger fan of arming heavily and attracting all the attention the enemy wanted to give; it didn't matter who was sent after you if you had very large guns to compensate.

Nothing had happened so far. The freighter was making jumps to hyperspace along normal routes so as not to seem out of the ordinary, but short stints through realspace were necessary to course-correct, and the ship was briefly exposed during each brief run. The ship was in such a state now, angling to turn away from Hasaq, to pass through some nebula or other, which should theoretically put them within jumping distance of Tython. Sorn sincerely hoped so. He had a bad feeling, a very bad feeling, that he couldn't quite place about this whole transport. Something was going to happen, something was going to wrong, he was sure of it. He just didn't know yet what.

 

[Zach]

Ruthric calmly approached the lowering vessel in the hangar, the wind blowing his dark cloak past his shoulders. He kept the whimsical grin on his smile as he awaited Sogar's approach, he called out, "What seems to have put you in a rush, brother?" he asked, frowning as he took notice of the Iktotchi's wounds. Ruthric rushed forward with the use of the Force, coming to his ally's, and friend's, side. "Alright, alright, easy go it," he said, raising a questioning eyebrow. As unlike Sith behavior as this appeared to be, Ruthric had acknowledged to himself that he never really indulged himself in the Sith beliefs. There was a different between the Sith and using the Dark Side of the Force. Although he loyally belonged to the Order, he felt no personal connection with its philosophies. In his mind, that which one covets, be it greed, power, lust, or even friendship, can lead into one's emotions, fueling their power. It mustn't always come from hatred and rage.

Many Jedi he'd come to meet before his time in the Sith Order had shown a detachment with connections, perhaps aside from the others within their own Order. For example however, many of them only viewed a ship as means of transportation or orbital combat. Not man of those he'd come in to contact with seemed to have any personalized connections. Ruthric thought that these connections could always make one stronger. His friendship with the Iktotchi Sith had grown to be mutually beneficial.

Raising his hand to Sogar's side, Ruthric focused on healing the wounds in his side. He closed his eyes, concentrating as he led the acolyte down the boarding ramp. Slowly sliding his fingers in motion with the Force, he felt the Iktotchi's injuries begin to heal. Sensing the skin returning to how it had been, Ruthric opened his eyes and turned to the acolyte, eyebrows furrowed in not only curiosity, but concern. "Care to explain this?" he asked, raising his eyebrow a little higher.

 

[Black Noise]

Sogar was grateful for Ruthric's assistance, without him, everything would have been much more difficult. He calmly explained while Ruthric healed his wounds.
"Anima and I were on Coruscant, we fought a Jedi. I didn't go full out on the Jedi, holding back until it was too late, Anima was captured. We need to rescue him, and personally I'd like to stab that Jedi, I won't hold out this time. Will you assist me, a chance to strike at the Jedi and their lightsabers would be your reward..."
There was little Sogar could offer him, but hopefully Ruthric would assist him anyway. Sogar would need to get Marauder status before he could officially go on his revenge/rescue mission, but he didn't think he'd have trouble with that.

 

[Zach]

Ruthric narrowed his eyes at the acolyte, more so confused than disappointed in the Iktotchi's actions. Although it did cause him a pan of grief to hear that his friend had held back in a fight against the Jedi, he understood that two against one could be underestimated and unexpected results would ensue. "Of course, brother. You need not wonder if I can help - my assistance is always offered," he responded, clasping the Sith's hand with his own in a solid grip. "As a Marauder myself, I could lead this mission, but I find myself agreeing that you should achieve your promotion before we leave," he continued, turning to accompany him to the academy's superior members.

((Cyclone, in your next post, if you'd like to RP out your promotion before jumping the Present section of my post, please feel free to god-mod my character in the process of getting Marauder status.))

Present

Ruthric swiftly approached his fighter, raising his arm and opening the cockpit with the Force. He felt the presence of the newly appointed Sith Marauder, Sogar Derimsa, trailing slightly behind him to the side. The Turbulent, Anima's ship, which they'd decided to borrow to save his Dark Side ass, sat dormant on the landing pad only a few meters from his own fighter.

The near-constant presence of Curator, Ruthric's befriended Hssiss beast from Korriban, remained concealed beneath its own uses in the Force. The creatures themselves were quite intelligent, possibly developed through evolution by naturally being acquainted with the Force. The Hssiss have been known to feed off the Dark Side, and be highly attracted to strong focuses in the Force. They were quite common in the wastes of Korriban, as the entire planet had been marked as a Dark Side hotspot. The semi-sentient creature trailed slightly behind him to opposite site of his Iktotchi ally, bending the light around it to keep itself hidden. The beast had indeed mimicked Ruthric's own motions through the Force in past, defining himself well as a companion to a Sith Assassin. They had both indeed practiced in these talents, much to their benefit.

Breaking off from Sogar as the they approached the ships, Ruthric turned and called, "Follow these coordinates," flashing him a look at his datapad as he clicked a button. He'd sent a message to Sogar's datapad, including the coordinates of the hyperspace route he'd intended on taking. According to the calculations Ruthric had done, researching the routes of hyperspace and their outlets, the Daragon Trail would lead from Korriban to the Deep Core territories where Tython lied. Between there and Coruscant, the pair of Sith Marauders would find their target.

Quickly leaping into the cockpit of the Black Shadow, Ruthric waited until he felt the familiar weight from Curator leaping into the space behind him where the seat had been removed. Sliding his seat back and firing up the engines, Ruthric pulled up from the bow and sped off to the sky. He felt the difference in resistance of pressure and winds as he reached higher and higher through the atmosphere. The sudden loss of motion and feeling of drifting suddenly kicked in and he relaxed, less stressed by the tension of flying through air.

Trusting that Sogar was quickly behind in the Turbulent, Ruthric pushed off with the engines as he entered the hyperspace coordinates. He leaned back and pushed forward on the handle-level on the controls, gazing at stretched lines of stars before him as he activated the hyperspace drive. Closing his eyes and focusing, attempting to feel out with the Force while waiting to come out on the other side, Ruthric sensed out, trying to feel the presence of his Sith brother, Anima. In only a fractured and broken view, he felt that the acolyte was indeed still alive and held in custody. He felt as though things were in motion, and that his estimation had timed up accordingly. If things went according to plan, they would come out between Coruscant and Tython during one of their hyperspace checkpoints.

 

[Prancing Yawn]

Cat let out a giant yawn as he stepped into the cockpit and took one of two pilot's seats. Sorn was there, and Cat nodded at him as he entered.

"My shift is.. -yawn-.. finished. Munra is watching the prisoner now.. "

So far, this escort job had been.. boring. Uneventful. But it was better than having Sith shoot at them. Cat was confident the rest of the trip would be smooth sailing - aside from the sudden jerks of cutting in and out of hyperspace. In Sorn, however, Cat sensed doubt.

"What's on your mind, Sorn?

If you're worried about our guns, we've enough right here - "

he pointed to his forehead, referring to their minds,

" - and here," he clenched his right fist and pounded it into his left palm.

 

[Black Noise]

((Nah, I'd rather not ;) seeing as my comp doesn't like me and I'm on an Android tablet, it's hard to type))
"Present"

Sogar nodded as Ruthric spoke, but his mind was only half listening. Boarding the Turbulent, his body was a seething mass of Dark Side energy. He was a Marauder, though rank mean't nothing compared to power. But the rank did have an effect on his mind, an affect that caused him to be less arrogant. For it was mainly his arrogance that had him lose to the Jedi back on Coruscant.

Sitting down in the pilot's chair, he reminded him that this mission was more about saving Anima, not vengence. Though who ever said vengence wasn't allowed? Sogar felt the shift in pressure as they broke the atmosphere. As he pulled down the lever to jump to Hyperspace after Ruthric, he wondered if he would be able to control himself. After all, Sogar would have to limit himself so that he didn't tear the Jedi's ship apart around them.

 

[MolotovCocktailParty]

Sorn grinned. That was so like Cat, and also rather like Sorn himself. If an enemy showed up, send them right back where they came from with a swift boot to the ass. He stretched in his chair as the Knight sat next to him, infected by Cat's yawn.

"That's true. Who could defeat the amazing one-two punch of the great (if Padawan) blademaster Sorn Sinclair and the feared Jedi Brawler Cat? I should think anyone would tremble in fear."

He swiveled in his seat, facing out the main viewport as the pilot maintained the course and adopting a more sober expression, staring somewhat absently into space - literally. "I can't shake this feeling, though," he said thoughtfully. "It's like I'm about to see someone I kind of know again, but I can't remember their name, and they're a little bit of a jerk. Like something's going to go wrong, but I have no idea what. It's strange, and I don't like it." He turned to the older Knight. "That ever happen to you?"

 

[Prancing Yawn]

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Instincts are nothing to ignore. We'll keep our eyes open.. but nothing has happened so far, thankfully."

Cat cracked his knuckles and yawned again. He almost put his feet up on the control board, but feared he might press the button that destroys the galaxy..

The ship rumbled to a stop to exit hyperspace. Cat leaned over his seat to look at one of the many screens on the control panel.

"Quick rest stop. Apparently a nebula moved into our original course. The navcomputer is recalculating."

He leaned back farther into his seat. The ship would do all the work - Cat and Sorn had to literally do nothing.

 

[Zach]

Darkness... Emptiness... Oblivion... This is all that awaits you...​

Ruthric's eyes snapped open as the words entered his mind. Since departing from Korriban with Sogar to rescue a friend in need, the Sith Marauder had meditated, preparing himself and concentrating on what was yet to come. The three words passed through his thoughts as he traveled through the bluish hue of hyperspace, his mind deep in the sensations of the Force. He furrowed his brow, lowering his eyes to the controls in front of him and pursing his lips. 'What the hell was that?' he wondered, recalling the deep rumble of the voice that seemed to pierce his soul.

It was the second time it had happened since joining the Sith. The first, only a sensation, no voices, yet frighteningly familiar to the cold, dark presence he'd just felt. Ruthric frowned and grew frustrated, angry at himself more so than the voice that came to him. For inexplicable reasons, Ruthric had found himself having anger flashes, the littlest things tearing at his nerves as if there was a raging storm within him. He'd known the Dark Side to amplify the emotions that one would divulge himself in, to bask in the hatred and rage, but it had never been his way. He was a soldier, nothing more. The emotions, they helped of course - but they seemed to be taking their toll on his mind. Every day seemed shorter, every usage of the Force, more fluid with each passing second - his power, gaining at the cost of his perceptions.

From his training, he'd learned many things, not only of the Force and lightsabers. The Dark Side held many drawbacks, despite its seductive - and addicting - lure. On more than one occasion Ruthric had found his body immobile, paralyzed. Physically, he'd been fine. On an emotional and mental level, he lost the willpower to move his body. During these brief periods of inactivity, Ruthric had felt the claw of the Force, the Dark Side of life itself pulling at him, drawing him closer. More and more each day, had the Marauder felt like he was slipping from his consciousness and basking in the power of the Dark Side, engulfing him until nothing was left but sheer evil - no personality, no tactics, only power.

Sensing Ruthric's anguish, and his realization of a very possible, and dangerous, end to who he is, Curator, his beast companion, nudged beside him, purring audibly as he rubbed the end of his snout against the mechanical arm. Looking down in mild surprise, Ruthric reached the prosthetic across the top of the creature's head and scratched behind his ears, grateful that his friend, bonded with through the Force, had come to his aid. It seemed no matter the peril, Curator could be relied upon, as an ally and a friend.

The dashboard on the control panel of Ruthric's fighter began to blink, indicating that their hyperspace route was nearing its end. Removing his arm from his companion's side, he reached forward and clicked the communications display, attempting to contact the newly appointed Iktotchi Sith Marauder. "Turbulent, this is Black Shadow, respond. We're nearing our destination," he called through the headset built into his helmet. As he awaited the reply of his Sith comrade, Ruthric began activating a few of the minor attachments to the ship that wouldn't interfere with the hyperspace route.

Scanning the area before activating the radar jammer, excluding his own ship's identification number along with the Turbulent's, he noticed picking up signals of a nearby nebula. It seemed that it had crossed into the hyperspace route and would be too dangerous to pass through. Again, the display on the fighter's dashboard blinked, this time with a chirp. "Sogar, we're going to have to fall out of hyperspace. The nebula is too dangerous, and we might die before even arriving to save Anima," he relayed, assuming that he'd picked up scans of its drift course as well. "I've activated the radar jammer, along with the heat sinks attached to my engines. If we run into anyone while waiting for the nebula to pass, you'll be the only one exposed. I'm not as familiar with the Turbulent's accessories as you are, so if you need to do anything, I suggest doing it now," he continued, preparing to activate the stealth field generator around his ship. As soon as they exited hyperspace, he would flip the switch and be completely undetectable, save magnetic traces, but it was unlikely that the Jedi were using those means as they were only transporting a prisoner. Pirates, on the other hand, could be a problem, if they encountered any. As an extra precaution, Ruthric focused on his own presence in the Force, sensing his audible output that other sensitives could detect. He stifled it, muffling it in a way so that it was nigh undetectable. Curator had shown remarkable talent in mimicking certain abilities in the Force, including one such as this. In the past, he'd been able to conceal his own Force signature so well that Ruthric could not detect him even when meditating, or bending the light around his own body to remain invisible. As passive as this talent was, the beast had proved himself to be a worthy companion of that of a Sith Assassin's. Following suit with his master, the two remained hidden through the Force, in case they'd come across Jedi sooner than expected.

The ship surged only a fraction as the hyperspace drive began to slow down, the bluish tint around his cockpit fading into a white-spotted endless void. Instantly flipping the switch he'd kept his hand on, activating the stealth field generator around his fighter, Ruthric reached for the navigational controls. The unlikeliness of an encounter at this exact moment was unlikely, but as he'd found out so man times before, the Force worked in mysterious ways. There were no accidents. The radar jammer equipped to the sensors of his control panel had remained active, allowing him and Sogar to probe around their surroundings undetected, lest his ally be seen visually without the assistance of technology.

 

[Black Noise]

Sogar dropped out of Hyperspace with Ruthric, the turbulent wasn't like Ruthric's ship, unsuited for Assassinations. But Sogar was a Sith Warrior, technically more suited than Ruthric for the up coming fight. He responded over the mic in his helm.
"The turbulent is not like your ship Ruthric, it cannot disguise nor cloak itself. I'll follow your lead and come around once we encounter the Jedi. Try not to cripple their vessel too much as I'd like to board it and maybe haul it to korriban for some stripping."

Sogar wouldn't admit it, but he hated space. Because if one was without a ship in dead space, one died, no matter how powerful one is in the force. In this, the Military and the civilians would forever have an advantage over the Jedi and Sith. Hopefully Sogar would close that gap of power soon. He dropped the Turbulent behind the Black Shadow, going to simply follow Ruthric.

 

[MolotovCocktailParty]

Sorn yawned again then mentally shook himself. It would not be good to be falling asleep. More awake, he nodded at Cat's statement and smiled ruefully.

"Just when I was looking forward to being able to fly again, they install a navcomputer that does everything itself. So boring." Sorn kicked the navcomputer in question idly, eliciting a dull, satisfying thunk and a sharply throbbing foot. Employing a few choice curse words, Sorn brought his leg up to clutch at his aching extremity. A few moments passed while he composed himself, and then he spoke again, his voice slightly scratchy from pain.

"Moving nebulae, huh? I thought they were static, like giant clouds of space dust or whatever. Maybe the navcomputer's not as smart as everyone says it is and the course it plotted originally was just screwed up." He shot the machine a dirty look, embodying his traditional distrust of droids, and he could have sworn he got an indignant beep in return.

 

[Zach]

Ruthric drifted through space, checking all his systems and sensors. Everything seemed to be working, his fighter being near-undetectable. Hearing Sogar calling back to him through the comms, he started up the engines, slowly pulling around to ensure that the Turbulent was nearby. "Just be sure you stay close enough to detect my ship's ID. I've excluded yours and my own sensor IDs from the jammer," he replied, the ship coming in to view as he finished.

Pulling around again and flying out towards the nebula, Ruthric checked the sensors above the controls and picked up a weak signal. The static from the nebula may have muffled it and hid it from his initial scan, but it was definitely there. Could this be the transport ship carrying their Sith brother? It would have either been this jump or the one after where they met, but perhaps with luck, the pair of Marauder might be able to swoop in without needing to wait. "I'm picking up a ship on the other side of the nebula. I'm going to check it out," he relayed to Sogar, increasing the engine power and adjusting his course to swing around it. Traversing to the other side of the nebula would have taken some time, but the signal seemed to be on the outskirts of the area, only a few minutes of flight time away.

Circling around and keeping an eye on the sensors to see if it had gotten stronger, Ruthric maneuvered the ship for a few minutes, watching the Turbulent's ship ID following behind. As he approached where the signal was emitting, a small transport ship could be seen off in the distance. As he got closer, a notable insignia could be viewed on the starboard side of the hull, the symbol of the Galactic Alliance. Ruthric grinned, the right corner of his mouth curling up in glee. "Seems we've found our transport ship," he called again, thrusting forward for a closer look.

The ship seemed to be of notable size, not as small as he'd previously perceived. There was a docking air-lock on the starboard side behind the insignia, just large enough for Sogar to attach and board through. Ruthric began to swing the ship in an upward spinning motion, flying over the body of the transport and flipping around to get a view of the other side. He saw another docking air-lock directly across from the other, smiling and closing in to attach his cockpit to the umbilical. As oddly as the ship would need to connect, with the tip pointing downward and its belly sticking out, the cockpit would fit well enough.

After gauging the size of the air-lock and judging it to be acceptable, Ruthric pulled the fighter around to the back of the ship to the engines and hyperdrive. Spotting the hyperdrive peeking out from above the cylindrical engines, Ruthric turned the ship about and fired a plethora of missiles, aiming his lasers and swiveling ion-cannon towards the hyperdrive. The explosion against the engines shook the entire body of the ship, immediately alerting the crew of the attack. The blasters sizzled against the hyperdrive, followed by exploding sparks as it slowed to a motionless state.

Without much time to act, Ruthric blasted the engines on his fighter, spinning to correctly face the aft air-lock. The fighter lightly clicked into place against the air-tight umbilical, his cockpit popping open with a hiss. Ruthric leaped out of the ship, pulling his lightsaber from his belt to the palm of his right hand with the Force, activating it and reaching out with his left in a defensive stance, quickly followed by Curator, both hiding their presences in the Force. Hopefully Sogar would take his queue upon witnessing the assault on their engines and hyperdrive.

EDIT: ((The only thing I added was the bolded. Doesn't change anything, since I mentioned it two posts ago, but I figured it would be good to mention it again so it wasn't forgotten:

"Ruthric leaped out of the ship, pulling his lightsaber from his belt to the palm of his right hand with the Force, activating it and reaching out with his left in a defensive stance, quickly followed by Curator, both hiding their presences in the Force.))

 

[Black Noise]

Sogar silently followed Ruthric, watching from a distance. Once Ruthric had shot out the engines, Sogar floored the engines in the Turbulent and headed straight for the other airlock. The second Ruthric had his ship airlock into the freighter was the second Sogar mimiced him on the other side. He leapt through the airlock and took out his lightsaber. He would be careful inside here, as he wasn't wearing a suit and an air breach would most likely kill him and whoever his opponent would soon be.

When he stepped onto the ship, he knew Ruthric would hide his presense, so why not take the extra measure to help him? Sogar shoved out his presense, to most beings, even those who couldn't feel the force, it would feel as if a physical weight had been put on them. His dark side presense was literally immense. Sogar normally kept his anger under strict control, but as he could sense the same jedi as before close, it spiralled out of his control. The Jedi had entered a heightened force state before, Sogar himself could do that very same thing, but only under the circumstance that he lose himself momentarily to the darkness within him. He was certainly doing that now.

He stepped forward, and the very light in his hallway darkened. He could sense where the Jedi were, and he was headed straight for them. To the bridge. Sogar thought about bringing a second lightsaber, but he decided against it, seeing as he could use Tutaminis to block a lightsaber. He hadn't used it before though, why? He didn't understand, simple arrogance perhaps. His arrogance had died within him the day he lost, he had never lost so badly as he did before. The arrogant, proud, carefree Sith that once lived within had died. A powerful, careful, Warrior, had been born.

 

[Prancing Yawn]

The ship rumbled and shakes shot through all compartments as the two Sith craft bore down on it. Cat grasped the armrests of his chair tight. They were, as it seemed, under attack.

"What in the blazes -

Our hyperdrive is dead! This is not good.."

Cat leaned forward onto the consoles and checked up on the ship's defenses - which would be useless now. If they tried to blast the Sith fighters off of the airlocks they'd only be shooting themselves - wait, what? The airlocks?

"Both airlocks have been occupied. They've already boarded us.

And we're dead in space now..

Sith. No doubt about it. "

Cat scrambled to find the red comm button, and pressed down on it.

"Munra, this is Cat. We have unexpected guests - lock down the room, including the vents. Sorn and I will go and kick these guys' asses back to where they came from."
"~No worry, I guard.~"

"Alright, Sorn.

Let's go."

Cat climbed out of his seat and rushed out of the cockpit, the chair spinning as he left. He walked down the halls briskly, following the source of dark energy he felt coming from Sogar.

 

[Insanity]

Anima opened his eyes as the ship shook around him, feeling the vibrations and then the motionlessness. The ship had stopped, utterly and completely. Then, and right then, he felt the darkness spreading in the ship. He recognized it as well, felt satisfaction in his predictions. Rising from the cot he had been allocated within the holding room, he made his presence known in the Force, bringing it from a fringe feeling up into the main flow. Sogar was here, paying back a debt on two counts - one to try again for victory, another to rescue his ally. Anima had no doubt that Sogar's, and by extension, his other ally was around as well. After a moment, he located the presence guarding him and probed at their fringe thoughts. They were a Knight, thus had skill, but fringe thoughts leaked through their mind. Then he seeked out something to use, locating a conduit near the Knight.

He saw it in his mind, the workings of it, and began to de-stabilize it further, as the shots had already altered the ship's system priorities. It finally got too far, overloading and blowing panels from the ship's interior. He heard a gasp, then a short scream of pain. He knew the Jedi hadn't expected it, hadn't defended their self. But the wound wasn't enough to kill, only weaken. Disappointing, because he'd have to wait now. But waiting was acceptable.

 

[Zach]

Ruthric felt his way about the ship, sensing out with the Force as she closed his eyes in concentration. Curator stood by his side, mimicking his actions to the limited degree that he was capable of, sensing the presence of the two Jedi near the cockpit while the assassin detected a Jedi guarding their very own Anima. The Hssiss exercised the bond through the Force that he and his master had acquired, utilizing the further developed telepathy they'd practiced and trained to communicate more clearly. Sensing the emotions and intent of another is one thing, but being able to actually visualize the other's sensations and thoughts was a whole new level of coordination. As well as this worked in battle, Ruthric knew how to abuse it to the point of tactical infiltration and overwhelming an opponent, being familiar with his past experiences in the Galactic Alliance military.

An obvious and darkened presence suddenly filled the ship, no doubt to be his brother Sogar, deliberately drawing out the Jedi in hopes of a rematch. This would be an ample opportunity to rescue Anima while he had the chance and then reinforce his ally so he wouldn't be outnumbered. He only hoped that the Iktotchi would be able to hold them off while he sought out the singular target awaiting his arrival. Ruthric kicked off from the metallic floor, deactivating his magnetized boots so there was no longer a thunk at each step. Curator followed quickly behind him, masking not only his presence in the Force, but literally bending the light around his body to remain hidden. Granted, he wouldn't be able to do much else, but it was still a remarkable trait for that of an assassin's pet.

Not bothering with hiding his physical appearance, and only his presence in the Force, Ruthric made his way down the corridor and found a singular room with a bright red light on the frame. Ruthric frowned, wondering if it had been the signal of an alarm or meaning that the door was locked. Either way, it meant that he could not simply waltz right in. Checking the surrounding area for any alternate route of access, he spotted a ventilation shaft entrance above his head, merged into one of the panels that made up the ceiling. Upon closer inspection, he could tell that the grate had been locked, either manually or automatically from the emergency systems of coming under attack, but it would be no match for his lightsaber.

Tossing the blade from his palm into the air and gripping it with the Force, he pierced raised it to pierce through the metal and cut through the side with the locking mechanism. Upon making contact, he attempted to stifle the noise it emitted, making it less audible. The noise from the cutting would inevitable travel through the vents and echo through the ship, however, but at least it would be a general noise instead of focused in a single location.

Only a moment later had he heard an explosion come from within the containment room. Turning and facing the room expectantly with a raised eyebrow, he sensed out with the Force and felt the pain of one of the Jedi. Perhaps Anima had worked out a way to hinder the guard. He seemed to still be alive and fully aware, so Ruthric would still need to defeat him swiftly, but at least this would make it easier.

As his saber cut through the side of the locked hatchway, the panel dropped to one side, dangling from its hinges as the opening was clear. Ruthric reached over with his left hand to his right shoulder and clicked a button, releasing a compartment built into his shoulder. From it sprung his second lightsaber, one that he'd crudely crafted on a whim after several months of practicing with a single weapon. He hadn't planned on using it any time soon, but it wouldn't hurt to keep an extra weapon on hand in case he was disarmed. Kneeling down to his beloved companion, he placed the hilt in the Hssiss's mouth and ushered him upward. Instantly taking the assassin's meaning, Curator leaped through the opening and began crawling through the vent, making sure to keep quiet and limit his motions to get past the locked door. Should he need the lightsaber to cut through another vent, it would be swift and obvious, taking the attention of whoever guarded the prisoner inside.

For the next ten seconds, Ruthric leaned against the door and began typing in the access pad, using his hacking skills from past missions with the military and listening with the Force, detecting the soft pattern of breaths from inside. He heard two, one of heavy breathing and another of rationalized calmness. The heavier would obviously be the Jedi Knight standing guard, waiting to combat the assassin in hopes of keeping their prisoner. A brief noise of incineration and burning suddenly burst out from the ventilation shaft, swiftly cutting through the locked vent, but immediately alerting and attracting the attention of the guard.

As he felt his awareness shift to his companion, Ruthric completed the hacking code and the bright red light flashed green, sliding open from detecting his presence with a motion sensor. Ruthric immediately charged forth, using the Force to enhance his speed and darting straight for the exposed back of the Jedi Knight. Without activating his lightsaber, he plunged out his right leg into the back of his knee, grasping the hair on the back of his head with his left hand. The Jedi would have been pulled backwards, thrown off balance by the element of surprise and the awkwardly forced momentum. Upon bringing the Jedi's head back to his shoulder, his body continually falling, Ruthric clenched his mechanical right fist and hunched his body upward, bringing it down at an angle straight into his face. Whether it would kill the Jedi or not was not important - only that he would no longer be an obstacle in their objective.

Tossing the Jedi's limp body aside, he turned to Anima and sent a spark of electricity from his Force Lightning at the controls, deactivating the locking mechanisms containing the acolyte.

 

[Black Noise]

Sogar turned a corner, his very presence darkening the room. And he came face to face with the Jedi. Smiling cruely, he ignited his lightsaber and held out his hand. Saying.
"I don't think I'll go so easy on you this time."

He flipped up his palm, sending a massive wave of dark force energy charged with force energy directly at the Jedi. It would be interesting to see how they blocked it, seeing as the wave had enough power behind it to shred a being's body into a thousand shards.