Ask Umbara Impatience

[Zorya]

In the shroud of unending darkness, Zorya, a shadow cast in feminine form, lingered. Awaiting reinforcement, she took root amidst the ghastly wilderness of Umbara. Draped in Umbaran night, the surrounding Zabrak Spines towered above her, their blood-red, bioluminescent spikes a haunting illumination against the blackened canopy.

Ever near, O'bog, a sprite of impish mischief, flitted around Zorya's monolithic figure. The silent Sith champion's angst, reflected empathically by her Ximpi, incited a tantrum of goblin proportions. "Bilge-suckin' lugs!" he squawked, darting haphazardly between the spiny flora, pulling at the iridescent tendrils, wreaking havoc on the undergrowth. His emerald form fluttered and darted, a stark contrast to the crimson glow of the spine forest.

"Oughta be here, they should!" O'bog spat venomously. His vibrant eyes flickered with an inferno of defiance as he vented Zorya's tacit impatience, embodying her silent frustration. "Snail-paced, they be! Like a Womp rat chewin' on a Bantha's rump!"

To O'bog's tirade, Zorya remained a silhouette of tranquillity. Unmoving, the soft hum of her lightsaber was the only evidence of the turmoil beneath her seemingly calm surface. She was a monolith of stoic resolve, a testament to the Yacombe tradition she so ardently practiced. Her silence spoke volumes, and O'bog was her faithful mouthpiece.

Around them, the forest echoed the oddity of their union - an intricate dance of quietude and chaos. Amidst this concord of contradictions, the Sith champion stood within the forest of Zabrak Spines. Zorya, the enigma, her thoughts unseen, her resolve unspoken, and her mission unerring, prepared to make her move. The Umbaran airbase loomed ominously in the distance, a monolithic fortress awaiting its impending usurpation. Through the malevolent hush, anticipation hung heavily in the air. Zorya's time was nigh.

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

Ahh umbara a place that dispite a lot, always brought peace to the Mando - sith, the brilliant reds, amazing plant life, he would make his home here if he could, sadly, he could not, but hey, what was he gonna do, he landed down from a particularly tall plant , making a thump, he blended well with the surroundings, which made him all the more terrifying looking, although, given the stories of his rise to champion status, it was well deserved to regard him as a demon.

His voice was heavily modulated but not even that could hide the imperial officer esque style of his voice, though he was anything but arrogant.

"Oh no need to get so upset, I'm here."

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

From the umbral fringes, the whir of a landing craft caught Zorya's attention. Emerging from the spectral fog was a man of slender stature, his visage hidden behind a Mandalorian mask. Jet-black hair framed his pale skin, an ominous contrast to the red luminescence of the surrounding Zabrak Spines.

"Lookit who finally decides to join the party!" O'bog chimed from Zorya's shoulder, his vibrant eyes narrowed at the newcomer. "Hope ya didn't miss yer beauty sleep, ye blithering sack of bantha fodder!"

Zorya, however, maintained her implacable focus on the fortress looming in the distance, her internal gaze drifting towards her clandestine aspirations. The ambition to reopen the Sith Academy on Umbara, to guide the next generation of Sith in the path of the dark side, churned within her like a storm. Yet, the task required control of the Umbaran airspace, or perhaps, a few key Umbaran officials made pliant by the allure of bribes.

In the intricate dance of thought and emotion, Zorya weaved her silent instructions to her ever-chatty proxy. O'bog blinked once, twice, catching her implicit command, the demand to offer the masked Sith just enough information to secure his cooperation without revealing the intricate weave of her grand design.

"Listen up, buttercup," O'bog piped up, voice laden with an intoxicating mix of mischief and seriousness; Zorya barely acknowledging the other Sith's presence. "We've got a base to nab. There's something shiny waiting at the end for the likes of us. Are ye in or are ye out?"

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

he looked down at the creature, shaking his head.

"and what is this.. shiny thing?.."

she already had his attention and assistance, his presence supported this, but he would prefer to be rewarded for his time, he could be doing several other things right now.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

O'bog rolled his eyes, nearly somersaulting in mid-air. "Well, aren't ya just as sharp as a dull gundark tooth!" he exclaimed, playfully knocking his tiny fist against his forehead. "Can't recognize a bleedin' metaphor when it bites yer rump!" He fluttered closer to the masked Sith, "Don't ye worry yer fancy helmet, you'll get what's due," he assured, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Unperturbed by the verbal exchange, Zorya began her advance, melting from the protective embrace of the Zabrak Spines. The airbase, a monolithic citadel of power, beckoned her closer. Every step echoed with silent determination, a testament to her unwavering focus.

A siege of thoughts unfurled within her, strategies upon strategies vying for supremacy. She could exploit the underground sewage system, but the risk of being detected was considerable. A frontal assault would be too blatant, a declaration of war. Her gaze, meanwhile, drifted to the energy dome pulsating around the base, a formidable barrier.

A glimmer of a plan emerged. A large frigate was about to land. For a brief moment, the energy dome would be disabled. That was her opening, a serendipitous window for covert infiltration.

Through the silent conduit of their bond, Zorya instructed O'bog, who piped up in his irreverent drawl, "We're climbing the wall when that big lug of a frigate lands. Follow if you're game, but don't stir up a hornet's nest, ya hear?"

As the Sith champion lithely ascended the towering wall, the Umbaran landscape stretched beneath her. She pulled herself up onto the ledge, the cold surface under her fingertips. As she emerged, two guards, their backs turned to her, stood oblivious to the looming threat.

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

"oh I'm game."
With a confused head tilt, full of typical mandalorian density, he gave a impressed nod, he always did like fellows who were unafraid to speak their mind.

He gives a bow, almost nearly disappeared from veiw, hiding himself from the naked eye, again, it helped his nearly blended in, but the force was powerful, especially in Cremeks hands, hence his discipline as a sith sorcerer.

"I'll follow your lead."

He followed, telegraphing he could take the other one if she would assassinate the first one.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

Zorya watched the masked Sith disappear into the shadows with a modicum of surprise. Her instincts had painted him as a hothead, prone to rashness, but his deference suggested otherwise. He was a sorcerer, it seemed, a wielder of the Force.

The two guards ahead were an obstacle, albeit one that could be easily eliminated. Yet, Zorya understood that such a course would stir up a maelstrom of unnecessary attention. Her experiences had taught her that beings had an inexplicable emotional attachment to their comrades. A fact she found baffling, yet useful to exploit in her stratagems.

Moving with feline grace along the wall, she put distance between them and the guards. The temptation of combat was ever-present, yet the mission at hand demanded a subtler touch. As they ventured further away, Zorya felt the prickling sensation of a familiar argument forming in her mental link with O'bog.

The Ximpi seemed unusually obstinate. He'd always been reluctant to extend pleasantries, yet Zorya felt an inclination to reevaluate the Sith sorcerer. He had proven himself more amiable than initially thought.

O'bog huffed, fluttering his wings in mild annoyance. "Right, ye overgrown tin can," he muttered to the masked Sith. "Zorya, against my sound judgment, decided you're worth knowin' her name and offers her open cooperation. But, mark me words," he warned, mimicking a knife slicing across his throat, "Cause her trouble and ye'll be dealing with me, and it won't be pretty."

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

"oh, I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

He gave a wry chuckle, as he continued to creep along with her, keeping excellent pace with her. Sure, he was sith, but he would not betray his comrades, he still upheld most of his cultures values, honesty, loyalty, ECT.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

Zorya's typically unreadable visage betrayed a spark of surprise. Was this Sith's unreciprocated introduction a slight or mere ignorance? Unwilling to let the blunder slide, O'bog quivered with an indignant vibrato.

"Well ain't ye the impolite little rust-bucket! 'Tis customary, ye know, to return the favour when given a name. But never mind! I reckon me own names for ye might be more colourful than whatever yer maw came up with," he huffed, flitting about the Sith in a dramatic swoop.

Leading their clandestine progression, Zorya moved along the wall, her eyes sharp in the darkness. Ahead, a guard tower loomed over them. It was a strategic chokepoint, the gateway to the central building of the airbase. Unfortunately, avoidance of confrontation seemed a remote possibility now.

Two guards were stationed at the tower. The first, perched high above, was a hawk-eyed sniper, his fingers ghosting over his rifle in deadly patience. Below him, a muscular brute of a guard stood rigid, his silhouette bloated in the eerie luminescence of a nearby light. The whites of his knuckles glistened as he clenched his shock baton with a sense of duty that could curdle milk.

Zorya extended a hand, silently demanding stillness. Their movements needed to be as whispers in the wind now. O'bog looked at the masked Sith, his features folded into a scowl. "Alright, tin can. Which of those jokers do ye fancy? Just remember, we're not here for a bloodbath. Any elimination should be a final gambit," he warned, echoing Zorya's strategic foresight.

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

"understood, and my name is cremek, forgive me, I'm usually not socially inept, and focusing hardly leaves room for speech.."

he gave a slight chuckle, before returning to the task at hand, he really needed to get out more and talk to people, but keeping to his studies and missions were really all he cared about, he gracefully kept to the shadows, almost becoming invisible once more.

"I can deal with the sniper, a knockout would suffice, no?"

he asked, keeping well aware they didn't want to shed blood, but if he didn't deal with it, it would be a pain..


@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

Upon hearing the belated introduction, O'bog cackled, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Cremek, eh? Sounds like somethin' ye'd scrape off the bottom of a shaak's foot. But if ye say so, shiny britches!"

Zorya's unreadable expression softened ever so slightly at the masked Sith's words. A silent affirmation passed through her gaze - the sniper was his to handle. Moving towards the brutish guard, she signalled O'bog forward while she remained hidden within the shadowy cradle of the Umbaran foliage.

From within the gloom, her hands moved in an intricate ballet of signs, fingers dancing and intertwining like serpents in the twilight. It was an art as ancient as the Yacombe tradition she upheld - kuji-in, a meditative dance of the hands invoking the raw power of the Force. Each motion was a whisper to the unseen cosmos, each gesture a plea to the energies that danced between the stars. As her digits finalised their dance with the seal of 'Rin', she steeled herself for the ensuing chaos.

As O'bog flitted forward, touching the guard with a deft fingertip, Zorya pulsed the Force through the bond they shared. An arc of lightning, swift and merciless, coursed through the Ximpi, sparking at his touch to the guard. The burly man jolted and slumped, a marionette with cut strings.

Swiftly, Zorya moved from her cover, the shadows pooling around her like loyal hounds. She hid the guard's unconscious form within the tower, an efficient and silent grace to her movements. Upon inspecting the space, she located the entrance to the inner sanctum, her next target within the fortress-like airbase.

Leaning against the cold wall, she listened for the muted sounds of Cremek's own confrontation, her charcoal gaze piercing the darkness, waiting for the next phase of their clandestine operation.

@theaveragejedishadow

//Rolled a 14/20 for Zorya incapacitating the guard.

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

Cremek was for more simplistic measures, though no less graceful, he appeared behind the man, like a ghost, grabbing him and strangling him, dragging him down, the poor man was terrified, struggling to yelp to someone that wasn't there, before he faded off, he dragged him across the tower, and hid him near the other man. He landed down with a silent thud.

"Taken care of, next?"

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

"Ah, so ol' shinypants can handle himself after all," O'bog cackled, a glance cast back towards Zorya. A silent thought passed between them, an acknowledgment of Cremek's efficiency, despite his social awkwardness.

Sith though she was, the ancient Yacombe tradition resonated within Zorya, cloaked in the enigma of old secrets. The airbase's labyrinthine layout evaded her knowledge, yet her keen instincts filled the gap. She mentally pictured the probable placements, the hierarchical structure mirrored in the physical layout, the critical systems housed within the fortress's belly.

"Best be movin' to the mainframe, I reckon," O'bog piped up, ever the vocal proxy to Zorya's stoic silence.

With a fluid grace, Zorya weaved through the stark corridor, shadows clinging to her like spectral partners. The side room they entered was clinical, bordering on sterile, bathed in a ghostly luminescence from the overhead lights. Machines blinked and buzzed, a cacophony of silent whispers echoing in the cold, metallic enclosure. Its starkness seemed alien, yet oddly familiar, as if the room was a fragment of some ancient memory.

The humming of the mainframe drew her attention. "And here's the beauty," O'bog chirped, circling the computer with a gleam in his eye. "Now, Cremek, old mate, ye got any talent for these shiny box of tricks?" Zorya, via her mischievous proxy, asked, her expression as cool as the room's sterile air.

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

"that I do, but it's going to require extra compensation later."

He jokes, plugging in.

"Give me like.. six minutes, I'm going to brute force it."

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

"Well, aren't ye the wizard of the blinkin' box!" Zorya's silent approval was transmitted through O'bog's humor, her memories reminding her of her own limitations with technology, a stark contrast to Cremek's adeptness. It was a deficiency she hadn't bothered to fill, the intricate pathways of circuitry and programming leaving her cold when a lightsaber or the crackling intensity of Force lightning could often provide a swifter solution.

"Chin up, lad," O'bog chirped to Cremek, fluttering around the Mandalorian with mischievous disregard for personal space. "Don't ye fret, we've faith in yer ability to fiddle with this contraption!" The pixie's attempt at camaraderie was backhanded, his remarks layered with a raw, sailor-like directness that could scrape against the unaccustomed. A mental sigh reverberated from Zorya, her palm metaphorically meeting her forehead.

Yet the corridor outside demanded her attention, and with the grace of a shadow, she swept back into it, her senses extending like an invisible shroud. The last thing they needed now was an unwelcome interruption.

"Cremek," O'bog croaked, swinging back into the room, "the lady wants ye to fetch any tidbits on the high-ups prancin' about this here base. An' if ye stumble upon a map, we'll be chuffed as nuts!" Zorya, through her vibrant proxy, managed to blend demand with respect, a curious knack of the silent Sith.

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

"well congrats, because I just got it."

"We got a base commander?.. I think, I'm not familiar with these peoples structure, and a map, you got a holo?"

He had successfully breached in, while he was unfamiliar with just HOW these people did their tech, he was a quick learner, he downloaded the map and data onto his wrist holo, he had to hand it to them, they didn't make his job easy, he disconnected as soon as he felt safe to do so.

"Maybe you can make more sense of the list than me."

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

"Aye, ye spry dog, ye might be worth more than a spit of moonshine after all!" O'bog exclaimed, his voice a hearty chuckle, clearly impressed with Cremek's handiwork.

In stark contrast to O'bog's verbal animation, Zorya's hand extended wordlessly, her fingers wrapping with measured urgency around Cremek's wrist. Her brows furrowed as she immersed herself into the holo projection. The map was a complex weave of interconnected corridors and chambers, a structural puzzle of geometric clarity. The layout bore a mechanized design, with the central command unit rooted in its heart, arteries of hallways branching out from it, serving as conduits to various sectors of the base. Elevated platforms for aerial vehicles, strategically placed watchtowers, and distinctive markings indicating guarded checkpoints all dotted the network of walkways.

Sifting through the roster, she identified the commander. His location appeared as a pulsating point, tucked away in the skeletal structure of the base. Mentally connecting the dots, Zorya plotted a path, threading through the maze of corridors and rooms. Her fingers relinquished their grip on Cremek's wrist, her touch absent of gratitude or apology.

Pushing past the slight discomfort of their contact, she continued her silent, unerring march down the corridor, her destination etched clearly in her mind.

O'bog, with a cackle, fluttered around Cremek's head. "Keep yer peepers on that map, lad. Our lass may have the spirit of a lion, but the sense of direction of a drunken gull. And ye don't want us takin' a detour into the loo!" He let out a guffaw, causing the tension to dissipate as he continued to lead the way.

@theaveragejedishadow

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

"I can do that, OYA."

He payed no mind to the touch, ever the dense kriffer, sure, he was an absolute genius, but god, he was dense, Marian was the perceptive one, she had always had a habit of shutting up when he was busy, or around other people, odd, but a blessing nonetheless. He had his map up, following her to make sure she took the right path.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

"Bein' so silent, ye'd think yer on a bloody date," O'bog commented, a chuckle escaping from his puckered mouth as they slipped through the convoluted layout of the base, as covert as phantoms. Zorya moved with an almost preternatural grace, defying her imposing figure. Her steady strides whispered against the metallic floors, her ebony cloak a brushstroke against the sterile greys of the corridor walls.

A corridor later, O'bog couldn't help himself, "Didn't ye folks ever hear of an interior decorator? This place has the charm of a blast furnace."

Despite the quips, there was an undeniable method to the duo's seemingly incongruous dynamic. Cremek kept the blueprints in his view, verifying each turn, each door, each blind spot. A harmonious, if unorthodox, symphony of stealth and finesse brought them to the threshold of their target, the pulsating point on the holographic map now glaring in reality before them.

"Methinks we've arrived at the heart of the beast," O'bog quipped, fluttering around Zorya's head. Her gaze was inscrutable, fixed on the door. As if conducting an unspoken orchestra, she cued Cremek through O'bog's voice, her focus unwavering.

"Alright lad, 'tis time for yer nimble fingers. Pop open that hatch when ye fancy, and we'll sweep this little roost clean." Zorya's hand instinctively found the hilt of her lightsaber, the cold metal a familiar comfort against her palm. The Force hummed around her, its rhythm matching the silent beat of her anticipation.

@theaveragejedishadow

//Rolled a 19/20 for Zorya & co. making their way covertly to the base commander's location.

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

cremek would nod, popping open the hatch, oddly, he did not have a saber visible at his side, or anywhere on him, odd...

"are we killing them or not?" he asked. "because I could cross him off now."

while Zorya's anticipation was readable, cremeks prescance was unreadable as ever, his voice modulator making him sound monotone and uninterested, his helmets visor glowing a feint orange now.

@Aberforth