The Under City

A gentle breeze sweeps over the landscape, kicking up small bits of dirt as it goes. The wind feels good on Varrics face. But the breeze stops as quickly as it came. The mercenary commander keeps the fast pace that he set for his men, being at the head of the group. He surveys the area around them, growing tired of their march in this endless wasteland and wishing it to end soon. There are tall, broken structures all around and off in the distance. Some are support beams for the city above and others are broken buildings from a civilization long dead.

The team moves through a group of buildings that looks to have been a village at one point. The structures looked worn and weathered from wind and time. A few skeletal remains can be seen, almost completely buried under the murky dirt. The bones were dark and brittle, the snapped and turned into broken slivers under their feet. Why would he come this way? At the end of the long stretch of buildings was a ramp that led down into a pit and a trench line. One of the great, tall support beams stands next to the ramp, the pit winding around it. The men cannot see beyond the crest of the ramp and into the pit, but they can see a cloud of dust and dirt moving along the trench towards the ramp.

In the pit, a large group of rakghoul were stirring. They had been picked up the teams' scent on the breeze and were hurrying to find their next meal. Varric could hear their heavy panting and their claws scrapping the dirt and metal, racing to reach them. Kor looks over at his commander, a look of distraught on his face. Neither man liked the situation, but they were in it. They had to fight or die. Varric looked in front of him, trying to quickly examine their battlefield. On either side of the street were broken and sunken walls. The area directly in front of the ramp was barren, a several meter gap between it and the village street and the structures.

"Kor, Kacs, go right. Morth, Orelli, you got left," Varric ordered, his voice booming as he looks back at his men. Cpl. Kor and Pvt. Kacs take off behind one of the sunken walls. The middle aged corporal slides into a kneeling position, his carbine resting on the wall. Kor is a very competent marksman, as is Kacs. The young private runs past Kor and takes a standing position a few meters away from his superior. Morth, who is the team's designated sniper breaks into a sprint, while attaching the sniper attachment to his DC-17m. He heads back several meters towards one of the fallen in buildings, its roof partially collapsed, half of the roof was angled down, resting on the ground. He climbs it quickly and drops to a prone firing position. He looks through his scope and slaps a in a fresh magazine. Orelli follows behind Morth. Orelli is tasked with killing any beast that gets near the teams sniper.

Varric raises his rifle. His team is in position and the loud heavy panting emanating from the pit grows louder. The first of the feral beasts reaches the top of the ramp and lets out an ear shattering howl but is silenced by a single shot to the head from Morth, who readjusts for his next shot. Three more of the beasts ascend the ramp at full speed and head towards Varric. Morth shoots one, killing it instantly. The two men on Varric's right open fire and kill another. Varric trains his sights in on the last of the group and sends a bursts of fire into the creature's head. It's speed drops considerably, but it manages to take a few more steps before falling flat on the earth.

A loud scream comes from the pit. The rest of the pack was about to reach the ramp. The ramp begins to tremble, it can barely support the combined wait of the rakghouls rushing up it. The carnivorous animals come over the top of the ramp like water rushing over a rock. They rush the meat they see in front of them, running down the street and clambering over the walls. Blaster fire erupts from the men's rifles. One after another the beasts fall to the team's fire.

Varric empties his power pack and quickly swaps it out. The rakghouls are approaching their position faster than they can put them down. One of the creatures slashes at Varric, its sharp claws catching the side of his rifle, sending it flying out of his hands. It lunges forwards, striking at his midsection with its right claw. The Feeorin twists his entire body right, the creature's claws go by just mere inches from his stomach. The old veteran brings his right knee up, squarely into its chin, sending the animal's head flying back, and in one quick motion, as his foot comes settling down, he swings his left arm wide as the double-sided vibroblade in his gauntlet fully extends; he stabs the blade into the top of the beast's head. He retracts the blade, letting the rakghoul fall to the ground.

Another of the beasts runs towards him, its mouth open, drool sliding down its chin. It falls to the dirt with three burn holes in its chest. His team was having better luck than he was. The few that were managing to get close were coming towards him. At this point two more of the appear in front of him; one jumping over a broken half wall on the right side of the street, the other rushing out from between two walls; both were salivating as they look upon him, their drool dripping on the ground at their feet.

The old mercenary reacts instantly. His right hand moving for his blaster pistol and his left twisting to point the grappling hook device on his gauntlet at the feet of the hideous creature on the right. The grappling hook flies from Varric's wrist, its sharp talon grappling claws digging in to the beast's ankle, making it scream. At the same time he begins to draw his pistol; then pulls back on the hook with all his strength, making the creature's legs come out from under him and causing it to fall on its back. He finishes drawing his pistol as the second creature sprints towards him. He flexes his arm, his pistol parallel with his waist, and shoots a blaster bolt into the beasts right eye, the back of its head exploding.

His grappling hook retracts from the one still living beast's leg and back into his wrist. Varric looks around and sees the the last of the standing beasts being gunned down. The still leaving, drooling beast in front of him tries to stand, but its head jerks back as a bolt from his blaster slams into the thing's face, and it slumps back to the ground. The team has survived.

Varric holsters his blaster, he was proud of his team. It was unusual for that many rakghoul to be together. They usually traveled alone or in small groups, never large packs. He walks over to where his rifle lay and picks it up to examine it. Aside from some scratches, it seemed to be alright. It was definitely still serviceable. He attaches it back to his one point sling and lets it hand on his side. His men come out from their positions. Morth was detaching the sniper mod from his rifle and placing it back in his pack. Kor and Kacs were both swapping out power packs. And Orelli was wiping blood off of his vibroknife. It appears that one of the creatures had gotten closer to his men then he had though.

"Alright, well I told you this was not going to be easy. Let's move out!"

After nearly an hour of traversing the trench line, the five men finally find an exit. The tracts they are following were hard to find among the numerous rakghoul tracts. The slope leading out of the trench goes a large hill overlooking a large area. They had already spent several hours down in this dark cesspool, and all of the men wanted out; they all hoped that they were near their mark. Varric was the first one to reach the crest of the hell, and when he did he dropped to a kneeling position. Off in the distance, next to a large flat metal structure, he sees a group of people, or at least two people. One of them is dawned in a clock and has his back faced towards Varric. The other he swears is his target, his ticket to freedom. The other two people in the group he could not quite make out. They seemed tall and in what looked like rags. He could not make out their faces, but they looked beastly. Marauder masks of some kind, he thought to himself as he motioned his men to his position but to stay low.

All five men got on their bellies and crawled forward, foot by foot. Staying out of sight, but trying to get a better view of what was going on. They could not hear the group's conversation. They had left their monitoring equipment back on the LAAT/i. Morth slowly reached for his sniper attachment, placing it on his rifle. At least he could get a better view of the two tall figures. "Sir," he said in a shocked but hushed tone, "they look like rakghoul...but...different. I can't explain it sir." Varric takes the man's rifle and views through the scope. Not understanding what the boy was talking about. But sure enough, they were rakghoul, but not rakghoul at the same time. Maybe they were a different form that he had never heard about. There are things done here that no one knows about.

He hands the rifle back to the sniper and ponders for a minute. At that moment the cloaked figure moved forwards toward the target. "Alright, I don't know what's goin' on but we can't leave til we got that blasted Quan," he says in a stern tone. He could see the cloaked figure grab Quan, but he could not make out what he was doing. "Morth, Orelli, overwatch. Kor and Kacs, stack up. We are goin' down for a chat."

The three men start walking down the hill when Varric sees Quan's body drop to the ground. If he was dead it did not matter, they just needed his head and a DNA match to get their freedom. The trio is near four hundred meters away from the group, their hands tighten on the grips of their rifles under their cloaks. Rakghouls are bad enough, but these new mutant kind or whatever they are..., Varric's thoughts wondered, and who is this guy in the cloak? Why are they not tearing him apart?

He and his men are within a hundred meters of the group; now Varric can make out the mask on the cloaked man's face. I hope this guy is not another new type of Rakghoul. They stop about twenty meters from the masked man's party. The two men with him standing a few meters away from him on either side. They were both eyeing the new rakghouls as Varric kept his attention on the mysterious masked figure. Their comm devices were left open so that Morth and Orelli could hear the conversation and could hear Varric's signal if he gives it.

He raises his left hand in a peaceful gesture and a smile appears on his face; his right still tightly gripping his rifle, keeping it concealed under his cloak, "Afternoon. My name is Garret Tau. I saw you talking to my friend over there," pointing to the still body laying heaped up against the metal wall, "I really hope you didnut kill 'em." The smile was as fake as the name, though the name did at least have an ident chip that went with it. It's a name that he uses when pretending to be a merchant so he can get through strict port authorities on several planets in the galaxy. Though he had practiced the smile enough times that almost people fell for it. It was a regular routine for him...except for the monstrous rakghouls and the masked figure.

Waiting for the man's response he looks him over. He sees the dark robes, the mask, and the overbearing pompous attitude that came with his stance, but not much else. He is wary of the man, but more wary of the rakghouls at his side. If he could solve this without bloodshed then he would. He had already had his fill of blood for the day, and ammo is a necessary commodity down here. The smile never leaves his face as he looks at the man. Even through the mask though, he could feel the man looking right back at him. It is like the man was looking into Varric's soul.

Varric becomes slightly dismayed at the news that his target was dead. He doesn't care about the man's well being; in all likelihood he was going to try and run and he would of had to kill him.> He is just upset that he didn't get to do the deed. He would not say that he loved killing, but rather that he enjoyed the act. He considers it satisfying to see a man's eyes beg for mercy just before turning dark as their life ends. Some people would consider him sick, he considers himself a man who knows what he likes. Though, as he listens to the masked man before him, he begins to think that the man may be of like mind with death.

Quest? The aged Feeorin thinks to himself. Might be a business opportunity, once I get Quan's head delivered back to the Hutts. As the man talks, Varric looks him over again, not sure who the man behind the mask is, or even what species he is. The man points behind him, but Varric does not even have to look, he knows what he is point at. Those idiots gave away their position...I am going to beat them. His facial expression never changes, he still wears the same false smile. It did not really matter if the man knew that his team was watching him. Morth is still a crack shot, and at this distance could hit him in either eye socket before the man could finish a breath.

Varric finds it funny that this man would care about his men's comfort. Morth was a soldier with the republic special forces. He understands that survival trumps comfort, and that at this distance you are more accurate if you are in a prone firing position. As the man throws his rob outwards, Varric's grip on his rifle tightens but he keeps the rest of his body from tensing. He did not except such a gesture, but the smile on his face does slowly disappear. He sees the two lightsabers and the realization of what this man is hits him like a Rancor slap to the face. He is a Sith.

Kacs and Kor realize this as well and take a step back, changing their focus to the man. They are not prepared to take on a lightsaber wielding force user. Varric loosens the grip on his DC-17m, knowing that it will be inadequate against a Sith, his hand slowly moves around to the small of his back and grips the Verpine scatter pistol that he has concealed in a holster. He becomes uneasy, looking at the two lightsabers dangling from the man's belt as the cloak comes settling down back into place.

He can hear the distinctive howl of the rakghouls off in the distance. It was much louder than the howl from the last group of rakghouls. This pack must be enormous. He turns around, his men staying in their positions. He can see a massive cloud of dust in the air behind the hill. He moves his right hand from his pistol and up to his mouth. The communicator is still live, "Morth, report." He can see the two men on the hill standing and breaking in to a run towards them.

"Sir, we have to relocate. Massive group of rakghouls heading our way." The former republic special forces sniper's voice crackled slightly with fear. The group had to be big to scare him, Varric thinks, turning back to face the Sith; we are upwind so we can't get away, we have to fight. "I hope your 'bodyguards' are willin' to fight their own kind," he says, looking them over.

He turns back to face his men. "Alright, Morth, Orelli, move to that hill formation to my left and give Orelli your spare sniper mod. Wait for my signal then start thinnin' the heard. Try to keep them from sweepin' left and around us." He can see the two men off in the distance. They do not send a reply, they just begin running at full sprint to the designated hills. He can see Orelli attaching Morth's backup sniper mod to his rifle. The kid was not a great shot with a sniper, but he was only going to be shooting at three hundred meters. At that range he could manage body shots.

He turns towards the men with him and lets his arm fall back to his side. They look at him waiting for orders, he can see fear in Kacs eyes, but Kor's show no emotion. Varric unclasps his cloak and lets it fall to the ground, revealing his armor and weapons. On the center of his armor there is a drawing of an imprint of a black hand with a ring encircling it. His DC-17m dangles in front of his left breast, attached to his armor by a single point sling. Two DC-17 hand blasters rest in holsters on his thighs and his scatter pistol remain holstered on the small of his back. On his belt that are several pouches that house power packs, verpine projectiles and grenades, along with a single vibroblade in a sheath. He detaches the power pack from his rifle and throws it to his corporal, letting his rifle fall on top of his cloak.

"I want you two to go up to the side of the hill and get the pack's attention. We have to get them to come at us the way we want them too. Overload that pack like we did on Nal Hutta, that should get their attention, and maybe blind a few. Then head back and swing wide over to that fallen pillar," he says pointing to the structure. It was one of the monstrous support beams that helped hold up the Lower and Upper Cities, but it had fallen and broken into many smaller pieces. "Take cover and when they engage us start hitting their flank with strafing fire and grenades."

The two men nod and take off towards the hill and the approaching rakghoul pack. Varric is going to stay right here with his new acquaintances. It is not the best plan, or the smartest, but as long as the Sith and his two rakghoul can hold their own, it can work. The Feeorin draws both of his hand blasters but leaves them resting at his side as he turns back towards the Sith. "Time to see how the Black Hand Company fights."

Varric can hear the two sentient beasts respond to their master, he is quite amazed that the creatures can speak. The comlink on his right gauntlet beeps and then chirps, signals from both two-man teams that they are in position and ready. He looks ahead of him, toward the hill. Kor and Kacs are on the opposite side waiting for his order to start the fireworks display. He turns his head toward the Sith; "alright, 'my lord,' I hope you are good with that thing," he says looking at the lightsaber in the man's hand. He made sure to add a sarcastic tone in his voice. He does not trust force users, Jedi or Sith. He has been lied to and betrayed by both numerous times in his life. In his opinion, the two groups are more similar than they are different. Jedi and Sith both will lie and kill and steal to get what they want. One side is just slightly more honest about their bad intentions.

He raises his right gauntlet back up to his face, "do it," he says as a smile appears on his face. He lets his arm drop back down to his side as he watches for what is going to happen next. A bright flash of light and electricity comes rising up from the other side of the hill and grows until it is twice the size of the land formation between Varric and it. It is followed by a loud and near deafening boom. It is a trick that an old, and by now long dead, Mandalorian had taught him following the Clone Wars. The Mandalorian had helped train Clone Commandos and had become very familiar with the DC-17m rifle. That trick has saved his and his men's lives many times. It is not very lethal, except up to about two meters, but it is capable of blinding and deafening almost anyone up to fifteen meters away. In essence, it is a crude flashbang grenade.

As the light and sound dissipate, Varric can hear the firing of his men's rifles. Kor comes running around the hill and quickly turns and drops down on one knee; he begins firing back towards where he came from. Seconds later Kacs appears; he runs right past Kor's position and towards Varric. Kor empties his power pack and then in one motion slaps in another as he stands and continues running. Both men are running at full speed toward Varric. The reach about the halfway point between the hill and Varric then suddenly break to their left and toward the fallen pillar as instructed.

Just as his two men reach the pillar, the first of the rakghoul appear around the hill. They are on all fours, spring. Their backs arched and their claws digging into the earth as they try to propel themselves forward. They see the four figures standing off in the distance and race toward them. Some seem to be bobbing side to side, still disoriented from the blast. More and more emerge from the other side of the hill. Varric looks at them in disgust. They are vile creatures that need to die. They deserve to die.

The pack draws closer, they are quickly closing the gap between them and the four men standing out in the open. Varric's look of disgust turns into a smile, it is killing time. He looks over to his left, where his two snipers were hiding and nods, and before he can finish lifting his head a sniper bolt comes flying from the hillside and strikes down one of the approaching creatures. It is followed up by a second shot, and a third. Each shot brings down another of the beasts. Both Morth and Orelli are firing. As the Feeorin mercenary predicted, Orelli was able to land lethal body shots from where he was posted. The kid needs more work, but he's getting there, he thinks approvingly.

Varric turns his eyes back to the pack. The smile on his face still present. He raises his arms so that his hand blasters are pointed toward the approaching horde. The smile disappears. He feels confident in his men as he sees one after another of the beasts fall dead. His gaze turns toward Kor, who lays prone on the top of the fallen pillar. Kacs lay a few meters to his right. Kor nods and both men squeeze the triggers of their rifles. Blaster fire erupts from toppled pillar, blaster bolts landing all along the side of the pack.

The herd's formation goes from scattered to packed together, which is what Varric wants. Kacs has the anti-armor attachment for his rifle, and a large supply of fragmentation grenades for it. The Black Hand private begins attaching it as the herd clumps together. He aims for the center of their column like formation but holds fire. Kor keeps up the pressure with his rifle; he is able to land a few lethal shot on a few of the foul creatures, which at that distance is quite a feat.

Varric closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to slow his heart rate and at the same time jump start an adrenal rush to his system. As he opens his eyes he can see the pack, now only a hundred meters away and still coming. He lets his right wrist go limp, his hand dangling downward, and turns so that the micro-missile on his gauntlet is in line with the front of the pack. He only has one of those missiles on him, and they are not exceptionally powerful, but they have enough explosive power in them to kill several of the creatures if they are packed tightly together enough, which they are.

He lets a breath out and twitches his right ring finger, pulling a cord tied around it that leads back to the gauntlet and the missile shoots off. It strikes the lead rakghoul in the herd and explodes, sending fire and metal towards the pack. The lead rakghoul along with four of its brethren are propelled backwards, their bodies limp and lifeless. The corpses come crashing down with a loud thump; but the pack does not care, it keepts racing towards what it thinks is its next meal.

The Feeorin's arm straightens, his blaster pointed at the beasts again. Another explosive, though larger in scale and lethality erupts halfway down the pack, sending a score of the creatures out in all directions. Some of the beasts are mangled but still alive, but most are dead or dying. Kacs reloads to send another of the grenades flying, this time further back.

The closest of the beasts still living reaches Varric. He shoots one in the chest, knocking it back. Then shoots another in the head, dropping it to its knees, where it slumps over. He swings his right leg upward, trying to put all of his weight behind the motion; his foot lands right into the chest of another creature, knocking its legs out from under it and sending. It comes crashing down the ground, Varric's foot follows it down, landing again on its chest. The creature moans in pain, several of its ribs broken or bruised. Varric lifts his leg and stomps down into the creatures hell, crushing its skull beneath his boot. He fires both his blasters, killing two more of the diseased scum.

Kor swaps another power pack and keeps firing. Kacs sends another grenade flying to the back ranks of the herd. Morth swaps out another sniper pack, having already gone through two. He is running low on ammunition. None of them had planned on a large engagement, so none of them had an ample supply of ammunition. Orelli, who is taking his time with each shot, making sure they are on target, throws Morth a spare pack. Between the two of them, he knows that they actual trained sniper needs it more. He continues firing, scoring a hit to a rakghoul's chest.

Valstrol growls lowly at the sight of more of them, sensing their presence growing in number. He pauses for a moment as his mind wonders about the words. Warrior of the shadowmoon? He had not known of such a term ever. See the darkness laid within. He raises his lightsaber, noticing that the darkness around him was closer than before. Valstrol sensed the creatures and saw those close to him, but beyond that, the darkness swallowed their appearance.

He lets his mind ponder upon the words once more. "Only warrior of shadowmoon can come to see the darkness that laid with in." Valstrol closes his eyes for a moment, keeping his guard up as he focused upon the Force. Warrior of Shadowmoon...see the darkness that laid with in. He parts his lips slowly.

My physical eyes cannot see you. Thus my mortal eyes cannot be relied upon.

He keeps his eyes closed, his free hand raising as Valstrol began to use the Dark Side of the Force. The one guide that had brought him here. Thus as the Force brought him here, the Force would help him see.

Then I must let the Dark Side, the Force, be my eyes. As it was the Force that brought me here, so shall the Force give me the sight I need. As the Dark Side gives me strength and power, so shall it give me sight to see. The Dark Side shall grant me the ability to see.

And with that, Valstrol emitted a pulse of the the Dark Side of the Force from his body.