Simulation Training Center 42 ABY
Metal sliding doors opened to grant the two summoned Envoy’s entrance to the training centers marquee amenity: the Simulation Grid. Talk had spread about the Brotherhood’s investment in harnessing advanced machine learning and modeling in conjunction with the power and capabilities of the Children of Mortis’ unique Force-imbued crystals. A lot had been said about it, but few had been invited to take part, it seemed.
Apparently, that was changing today.
In the center of the room was a green-hued hexagonal and plated cubic arena. Along the far wall was a series of lockers, as well as a vending machine. On the opposite side were a set of four transparisteel windows that offered visibility both ways into the Observation area.
Teon Sul and Tomora Nay'ek entered side by side to take in the facilities. They had been instructed to “check” their equipment into the lockers. The room was clean and sterile, with the artificial air not too harsh and seemingly filtered well.
“Greetings organic test subjects! I mean, intrepid Envoys…. a mechanical voice emoted from a holographic projection at the far end of the grid-like arena.
"When you have checked your equipment, you may proceed to the center to begin the exercise.” The holographic projection paused, thinking, seemingly. “"Oh, yes, introductions. My name is C3D3: Cybernetic Deity. But I will permit you to call me–”
“That will do, CeeDee,” a more Human voice called out over the comms. “Sul. Nay'ek. This is Exarch Marick Tyris. Thank you for answering the call. I can answer any questions you might have.”
If the two looked up, they would see the Exarch from the observation bay, standing in his Envoy Corps regalia, hands clasped calmly behind his back.
Once all of his equipment was checked in, Teon returned to the center of the arena’s platform and folded his arms behind his back.
“Happy to take part, Exarch Tyris,” he answered, “So, what is the nature of the creations we’re helping test today? Some kind of advanced droid with Ascendant technology?”
Helmet first. Each of Tomora’s pistols was drawn with a little flourish before it was begrudgingly left at the locker provided. He thought more than once about lighting a cigarette before stepping away, but something about the air of this place told him it would upset the powers that be around here. He’d just have to deal. While the rest of his gear was unloaded from his pockets and pouches, he looked over his shoulder toward the grey-haired man upstairs.
“What about my droid?” Tomora asked. The BD-unit on his back stepped onto his shoulders and made to wave one of its legs at the window. “And… what the hell is ‘Ascendant technology’ supposed to mean?”
“Ascendents? Please. Those are so 41 ABY,” the holographic AI drawled.
Marick’s calm, even voice spoke through the rooms speakers, seemingly ignoring the AI. “The technology won’t work on droids, I’m afraid. But your BD can either join me up here in the observation bay to watch, or stay by the lockers down there,” he explained.
“To answer one part of the question, the ‘Ascendent technology’ is part of our research and engineering from our conflict with the Children of Mortis,” Marick continued. “The Senechal and his Research & Development teams were able to help us leverage the Force-crystals unique power, but work it into an advanced…artifical intelligence that has been anchored to this facility. CeeDee, please provide a breifing on the challenge today?”
The holographic AI, which was really just a white-blue outline of an amorphous humanoid, bobbed in place. “Mister Teon and Mister Tomora will be facing what are being labeled as Technocratic ‘Elites’. With intel and scouting reports showing signs of the Collective’s return, it seems that they have not sat idle since their defeat at the hands of the Brotherhood. These new soldiers are different from the likes our database has. Almost like an evolution of the Technocrat Hunters and even their late cybernetic soldiers.”
C3D3’s image morphed to reveal…
Something more machine than organic. At their core, however, looked to be a Miraluka that had undergone heavy cybernetic modifications while leaving their unique cranial structure intact. Atop the crown of their head is mechanical crown that stops short of the ridge of their hairless, boney brow. A thin piece of metal bisects their nose at the center as it stretches from ear to ear. They forgo wearing any kind of eye wrap, exposing their framed, socket-less “eyes” that blend in with the rest of their face. Below their organic nose, lips, and chin, however, their neck is composed of sinuous metallic cords of synthetic muscles and wiring.
Marick’s voice came back in. “The simulation will feel real. You will have full mobility and range of action. The grid you are on now will rotate in real time and either sink to the lower floors of the facility to maintain that freedom.
"Any damage taken will feel real, but when the simulation ends, you will find yourself with no physical wounds or scarring.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “That being said- there are some scenarios where a "bleed” affect has been mentioned, wherein echos of the simulation live on in the mind. I’ve tested it multiple times personally though, and would not ask this of any member of the Brotherhood if I wasn’t willing to go myself.“
With what he assumed to be a decent-enough understanding of what he was about to experience, Tomora lifted his droid from his shoulder and set it down next to his locker. “You watch my stuff for me, okay Doc?”
The droid made its best salute with its leg and got comfy in place.
As Tomora stepped into place, he found it strikingly difficult to take his eyes off the enemy image. His prosthetic arms were one thing - seeing machinery split open the face put a discomforting twitch in his cheeks. What the metal in his chest did to his flesh and bones, he couldn’t imagine trying to smile through that on his face. He felt his ears twitch forward, alert to no real threat yet, and he willed them back toward a neutral angle.
“Well… here goes something,” he said.
Teon paused. It had only been 42 ABY for a few weeks. What an unusual personality matrix for an AI. He didn’t have much room to judge, though; Asila, the artificial intelligence built into his suit’s helmet, was an unconventional AI in its own right. One that he’d originally considered getting reprogrammed, but now, it was starting to grow on him.
“So, this will be a test of us as much as it is a test of this new technology the Seneschal has been working on. Has the Fist been made aware of this, as well? I’m still new to the Grand Master’s Royal Guard, but it seems like this is something Rajhin should be privy to–given the threat the Collective can pose to the Brotherhood and its people.”
Once Marick began to speak, Teon listened carefully. Once he fully understood the nature of their assignment, he nodded. “Let’s get started.”
“Cindertail?” Marick replied calmly in response. “Who do you think was one of the first to test it?” the Exarch’s tone was flat and devoid of any real intonation, but there was a dry hint of amusement hidden somewhere in it.
“Working together will be vital. These Technocrats are not like the ones we’ve faced before. The Inquisitorius has lost multiple talented field agents to get us this scouting report. Good luck, and may the Force guide you,” the Exarch said, just before the grid activated and glowing light enveloped both Teon and Tomora.
“` As the grid came to life, light expanded in a bright white flash. Tomora was forced to shield their eyes, but even Teon’s unique Force-vision seemed to go blank for that moment. A Miraluka blink.
The moment passed, and both Teon and Tomora found themselves fully clad in the equipment they had stashed moments earlier: the Miraluka in his M.A.R.S armor, and Tomora in his Wanderer’s Traveler Garb.
Even Nay'ek’s droid, or the representation of it, bounced excitedly on the Bothan’s shoulder.
In the same revealing moment, the sterile cool air of the Training Center was gone, replaced with the fresh, leafy air of a jungle forest.
Groupings of rocky small mecha’s jut out from the tangle of crushed trees and thick vegetation. Moss had overgrown the rocks, as well as the hard-to-miss husk of what must have once been some kind of transport ship.
It had crashed many years ago, that much was clear. But there were openins and cracks in the hull and plant life had taken root quite literally all around it.
It was also quiet, with no sign of their query. One thing was clear, though. They were not on Arx Minor anymore. ”`
The familiar indicators of his helmet’s heads-up display were waiting in the corner of Tomora’s vision when he could see again. The initial shock of the simulation’s photorealism caught him off-guard for a moment, though it dwindled with the next curiosity on his mind. Visuals were one thing, but what about actual contact and mass? Tomora briefly drew, twirled, and stowed several of the machinations meant to resemble his many pistols that now filled the holsters he’d just left behind. They all spun just right on his fingertips, even distributing the weight of the slugthrowers in a manner that told him they were unloaded.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, loosening the cylinder for his BR-5010.
After a quick glance around, Tomora approached the exterior of the nearby building, a little slow and experimental in his steps. How this simulation worked was impossible to say, but it was fooling him pretty well so far. He pressed his back against the wall and began loading bullets into the old-fashioned gun. His Reynolds DE-21 came out next and got a fresh clip. Both would be there if plasma turned out to be ineffective, but for now, he figured he’d start with his DG-29. Assuming its functionality adjustments were intact, the revolver-like heavy blaster pistol was modified to ionize its shots, ideal for flesh and technology alike. Surely a target bearing mix of both was asking for it.
The familiar beeps of his droid caught his attention from his shoulder. “…That might be a step too far,” he scrutinized, locking his gaze with the fake Doc’s photoreceptors. The real droid might not appreciate a doppelganger on its patient. Something to sort out next time, though. “Just… stay safe, little guy.”
While Teon prepared himself, Tomora asked, “So, ever faced one of these freaks?”
Teon paused. “…That doesn’t surprise me at all, actually.”
The momentary loss of his Force Sight was enough to send a single tendril of cold crawling up his spine. To be without his sight, even for as brief a moment as it was, was an unsettling experience that he could go the rest of his life without feeling again. But his vision returned in due time, allowing him to see that all his equipment was on his person. Excellent. If what Marick and that curious AI said were true, he was going to need every item and then some to succeed against this new, simulated enemy.
He wasted no time in extending the range of his Sight beyond his immediate surroundings, giving him precise details about the terrain and the ramshackle ship in the distance.
“Never. Haven’t been in Brotherhood space long enough to have ever encountered the Collective,” answered Teon, “Stay sharp. We’re not alone out here. No hostiles yet, but they left traps for us.”
He took the time to point out where the traps were and the openings in the ship they saw as they came closer. to it.
<@152256842473406464>
“Well, that makes two of us,” Tomora said. His visor switched to infrared for a second scan of the area. “…Yeah, I see ‘em. They’re giving off heat, which says to me they’re powered - or analogue with a thermal trick up their sleeves. Wouldn’t that be nasty?” He huffed, resisting the urge to scratch at his neck fuzz. “Couldn’t say for sure if it would work, but I could always try shooting one if our guy strays close.”
Teon kept his attention forward, but he nodded at Tomora’s suggestion. “Go for it. Might flush out whoever left these things for us. Or at the very least make them think we met an unfortunate end.”
Something told him that these enemies were too smart to be fooled by that, though. Regardless, they needed to dispose of them somehow before they could continue into the downed vessel. The traps’ placement suggested they were meant to deter would-be infiltrators more than anything, anyway. Shifting a bit to grab his Relby V-10 (which he kept on a sling), the Miralukan kept his senses attuned to their surroundings, ready to act should any surprises spring up after Tomora took care of the traps.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
A lure could work. Maybe. With this thing, who really knew? Might as well go for it. Hoping to spare his heavier batteries for the targets itself, Tomora drew his Bryar pistol with his off-hand, flicked it to single-shot, and stepped out. One discharged blast at the mine, and he ducked back into cover.
The land mine was struck, triggering a small cloud-like explosion of ochre flame. It was loud against the otherwise quiet ambiance of the jungle. While it would pose no threat to Teon or Tomora, it did seem telling that perhaps whoever had set the trap was now aware it had been sprung.
“` And yet, as the duo waited behind their cover, there seemed to be no reaction or retaliation. No shuffling of leaves, or footsteps or hushed voices in the distance. No overt outlines in Teon’s unique vision.
Just the jungle returning to its ambiance, critters chirping in the distance.
There quarry, it seemed, was either patient, or otherwise distracted. ”`
Tomora stowed the Bryar pistol with a grimace after he gave up the wait. Following Teon’s lead, the two quietly repositioned toward cover near the back of the vessel. The next immediate check of the area unveiled yet another trap lying in wait for them. Tomora rolled his visor back to standard vision and turned to his partner.
“Eyes up. Er– kriff. You know what I mean. I’m gonna get a better idea of what we’re dealing with. Maybe a lead on where to start shooting.” As he spoke, the bothan holstered the heavy pistol still in-hand and took a knee to pull around his backpack. He shuffled out a slightly bulky device wired to listening rods, one of which he wedged between his helmet and his neck below the ear. “Scanner,” he muttered. Tomora hefted the main tool in one hand and re-drew the heavy pistol. Slowly, he pointed both forward and began to turn.
After a spin, Tomora put down the scanner and pointed to the massive break through the middle of the ship. “Signs of something where it’s split. Droid at the front, something alive at the back. Could almost draw a line of sight on them from here… You can tell where I’m pointed, right?” He lifted his head a little higher, trying in vain to look over the wreckage. “And there’s another life form on the other side of the ship, same direction. Other than that, more traps - not that you’d miss them.”
“Eyes up? Really?” he teased, remaining in his position while Tomora prepared his equipment.
“Yes, I can tell. And you’re right. This opening closest to us is trapped, as well. What do you suppose we do?” he asked. “We could try making an entrance of our own. I’m sure we have the firepower for it.”
“I don’t like to assume too much,” Tomora said. “But making our own entrance does sound like a better idea.” He looked at the nearby openings and considered before his hand fell toward the side entrance blown out next to them. “We go quiet through there, where it’s safe, get a better idea of the layout inside, and spring when we’re ready. Or… We go around back. This thing’s cracked all the way through. If that is our guy on the far side of the wreck, we could sneak around back and jump in where it’s split, catch him off-guard with guns at the ready.”
“Good. Assumptions kill. Especially in this line of work.”
After thinking it over for a bit, Bril made his decision. “The side entrance it is.”
Once he confirmed that Tomora was ready to move, he began slowly making his way toward the hole in the ship’s hull.
“` As Teon and Tomoroa moved carefully into the ship, they were careful for where they placed their feet, There were plenty of opportunities to accidentally bump against a metallic wall or doorway or knock something rusted over. But they managed to get into the ship remains interior.
Sure enough, there was a trip mine where Teon had detected it. The droid, it seemed, was an Assassination droid with a few modifications.
Further in, it seemed to be a humanoid of some kind. From the files they’d read about the Collective, it appeared to be a regular Liberation Front Zealot. ”`
No way was Tomora letting any model of assassination droid get the jump on them. Good news was, it hadn’t seen them yet. The advantage was now or never. His DG-29’s partially ionized bolts were made for this. With luck, its full battery-expelling cylinder would leave a hefty chunk of damage, too. In one well-practiced motion, the heavy pistol was drawn, pointed, and fired.
The shot nailed the droid right away and left it sparking. That was the only half-second he’d get - the droid’s backup couldn’t have missed it.
Teon wasted no time in following up on Tomora’s attack, pointing his vambrace in the droid’s direction and firing two of his whistling birds. The tiny projectiles sang in the air as they flew, crossing that paltry distance between their wielder and target to explode against the assassin droid’s metallic frame.
“` The Assassin droid, also known as an E-XD Infiltrator, felt the first ion bolt slam into it. Its chassis was durable, but the impact from the next set sent disruptions across it.
It’s limbes were able to pivot and twist, articulate, and rotate and re-arrange as needed, but it founds its servos sputtering.
Then the whistling birds pierced the silence of the derelict ship. Teon’s gauntlet thrummed as the whisper-hiss of the rockets found their target and deteonated in succession, one after the other.
It was about to sound an alarm, but it only managed a warbled, mechanical groan.
From the far room beyond, an organic figure in armor sprung to action.
"Karkin’ bloody heretics got the jump on us! EX-Four, where are they!?” “`
Teon heard the distant voice of the unidentified organic elsewhere waiting further ahead in the room and catalogued their location relative to his own in his mental map of the area.
With the droid stifled by the combined firepower of his partner and himself, the Miralukan produced his Relby V10 and aimed its barrel to where the strained mechanical whirring echoed. A single squeeze of the trigger fired a blaster bolt empowered by the rifle’s trandoshan tripler, which produced enough heat to briefly warm his face as it exploded from the barrel. And much to Teon’s pleasure, the sound of superheated tibanna punching through metal hit his ears moments later.
The droid recoiled, it's systems failing, and retracted itself into a cubic fetal position as it shut down from the assault of blows.
The other figure nearby moved, and Tomora immediately drew a bead. His DG-29 discharged another of its batteries in the same flash of motion he used to draw his Bryar pistol. The woman leapt aside, agile enough that his course-corrected off-hand shot still missed. Tomora’s metal arms snapped back in retraction as he slid behind the corner and put his back to the wall.
“Slippery, that one,” he thought aloud.
"Nice shot, ya karkin' schutta!" she called back dryly.
“` The Zealot grinned to herself as she unclipped a flash grenade, went to hurl it behind the cover of the two interlopers.
Instead, it richocetted off a piece of ship hull that hung limply from the exposed ceiling, and then detonated right in front of her.
"KARKING KARK MY EYES” “`
Teon heard a loud pop from where the Zealot’s voice rang out, followed by them yelling about their eyes. Must have accidentally set off some kind of explosive.
He kept his Relby trained on the section of the room where he expected the enemy to emerge should they decide to engage them.
“I’ll lay down suppressing fire to cover you if you want to move up,” he announced to Tomora.
Tomora leaned out of cover, one pistol at the ready, to find that their enemy was downed ahead of them. That all but confirmed the dumbass had blinded herself.
“Guess even simulated cults will take anyone, these days,” he muttered as he hurried forward. Tomora rounded her cover with both his pistols pointed, glad to see she was still reeling. His Bryar’s barrel pressed against her head. “You might want to drop that.”
“` "I DONT CARE IF CAN’T SEE YOU, I AIN’T DROPPING NOTHING YOU NERF-LICKING KARK!”
She leaned her head against the Bryar’s barrel, but instead of submitting, surged into motion, trying to use the “feel” of the weapon to get a bead on where Tomora was positining and tackle him to the ground.
Her arms found nothing but empty air. She whiffed on the tackle, and fell face first onto the derelict ships floor, making it easy for Tomora to place a knee between her shoulder blades, kick her blaster away, and re-train the barrel towards the back of her head.
“LET GO OF ME!” “`
Tomora grimaced and tilted his head. “You know what? Probably best that I do.”
She had all of a second to comprehend the meaning of that before the butt of his Bryar pistol clubbed the back of her head. Tomora stood off her as her limbs thudded against the floor. Aside from the lingering traps, the shuttle was clear, for the moment. His head turned past his shoulder to look back at the droid.
“Doc, er–” Tomora grunted. Not his Doc, but still a Doc. “Is that thing gonna wake up anytime soon?”
Just before she fell unconcious with a "blrrg" noise, she did manage to spit out one word masked under the cry of sudden pain.
“Boss!”
“Nice job,” Teon said while putting his relby away. “Let’s find something to make sure she won’t become a problem later.”
Teon expanded the reach of his Force Sight, causing the transparent landscape within his mind’s eye to grow until he spotted a familiar shape. These would do. After picking them up, Teon dragged the zealot over to a nearby metal pole and promptly cuffed her to it.
“Seems like we’ll have company soon. We should continue to sweep the building.”
As the Zealot lay still and bound, a subtle beeping noise started to sound from where the droid had been "decomissioned" earlier.
“` As Teon finished the idea, the beeping increased in cadence until it reached a sudden, high pitched crescendo.
The EX-D Infiltrator droid activated its remote self-destruct sequence. IF she had not been unconscious, the Collective Zealot would have been grinning. There was no more honorable death than to go out in flames and to take allies of the Brotherhood with them.
Teon felt the nudge of danger through the Force, a faint tug at the edges of his awareness. There wasn’t enough time to call out or grab Tomora. There was only time to move. The Miraluka bounded away, diving for cover in the nearby room.
Tomora, meanwhile, acted on seasoned reflex alone. The Bothan sprung from his position and dove for cover under what looked to be some sturdy metal plating.
Heat flashed and made the side of Teon’s face hotter than comfortable. There was no true burn, but the stinging sensation lingered, as did landing and scraping his elbow in the process to draw a faint trickle of blood.
Tomora felt the heat wrap around the makeshift cover. While none of the detonating flames touched him, his ears rang as lost frequencies left him forever, leaving a flush of stinging heat on his furred cheeks.
True to the Exarch’s word, the simulation felt, indeed, REAL. Their body would not experience any injury outside the simulation, but it felt so real and visceral.
The explosion cleared. They had defeated their first enemies, but their quarry still eluded them.
”`
After a far-too-short rest in cover, Tomora pushed himself off his belly. “Kriff’s sake, he wasn’t kidding about this,” he said with a groan.
His head tilted back, then toward the south exit. No guarantee that the last target from his scan was still there. With a frown, he hit his helmet’s earpiece to no avail and pulled himself against a wall out of view of the opening.
“Cover me, will ya?” Tomora asked Teon. He pulled out his scanner again, whispering, “Come out, come out, you bio-tech freak…”
Teon nodded, grabbing hold of his Relby again while Tomora retrieved his scanner. He kept his rifle trained on the opening in the ship’s hull, waiting.
The scan showed right away that the signature from before wasn’t there now. It still gave Tomora a reading of activity in a similar direction, but it was fuzzy and imprecise at best. His fist knocked against the scanner, to no avail. If he was lucky, it was malfunctioning. He hoped it was. Back into the bag it went. “Kriffin’ thing,” he muttered. The same two pistols came out again, and he flicked the Bryar into its charged shot mode.
“He’s moving, but he’s close,” Tomora told Teon, pointing his DG-29 at the south opening. “I think he knows we’re onto him.”
After unfastening his shield from his belt, the Miralukan tightened his grip on the handle to activate it. Metal with a durasteel finish expanded and locked into place before the unmistakable crack-hiss of an activating lightsaber echoed through the room. The empty species of the hexagonal shield filled with superheated plasma that cast Teon and his immediate surroundings in a blue glow.
Keeping the shield in front of him, he lead them across the room and out the opening in the ship’s hull.
“` As Teon and Tomora recovered, they slipped out the south exit of the derelict ship to find…
More or less the same jungle terrain. A giant rock, that would have given either of them a good vantage point over the wreckage, was quiet. With his unique vision, Teon saw no one, and with his regular eyes, Tomoroa could see that there was no sign that the moss-covered stones had any trail or tracks on them. But it would have stood to reason that a Hunter would have been there, but now had tactically repositioned.
On the plus side, nothing charged, shot, or tried to kill them.
For now.
”`
Once they were outside and Teon was confident that there were no threats in their immediate surroundings, Teon expanded his senses in every direction. His mental map of the landscape, constantly in flux due to the perpetually shifting currents of the Force that either penetrated or flowed around all things, grew to encompass nearly the entirety of the dilapidated ship. And much to the Miralukan’s satisfaction, it also included the last enemy who’d managed to elude them. Amongst the frigid backdrop of lifeless matter, they might as well have been a lightsaber to Teon’s unique “vision.”
“The last enemy is behind us,” Teon announced, “On the other side of the ship. Do you have a jetpack? I can intercept and engage them before they make significant ground again.”
<@152256842473406464>
Fast and tricksy - not a great combo to deal with.
“I got jet boots,” Tomora replied, kicking a heel on the stone. His right hand flexed and shifted its pistol to hang by the trigger guard from his pinky, freeing his other fingers to reach keypad on his other wrist. “Let’s make some noise.”
“` The Technocratic Elite had been prepared. They had avoided a direct confrontation with the Brotherhood’s Envoy’s, They had done everything right, to their programming, training, and dedication to their mission. They had sacrificed a few key pawns that should have given them an advantage despite being numerically outnumbered.
They had understimated the Teon Sul and Tomora Nay'ek, though.
The Bothan and Miraluka combo took to the air. While the two Weapon Specialist may have lacked the true power of the Force, their rocket boots and assault gear, respectively, allowed them to surge up into the air over the derelict ship, spotting their target.
With a subtle nod to one another, Teon went left, and Tomora went right, and both landed adroitly on either side of the Technocrat Elite’s position. ”`
“Inconvenient,” the Technoratic Elite murmured as they kept a one-handed grip on their Energy Bow while thumping a small cylinder from their belt and tossing it down at the ground in front of them.
Smoke burst out from the grenade and shrouded the immediate area. Unperturbed thanks to their organically-Miraluka vision, the Elite leapt away and activated their own rocket boots, propelling a distance away to find cover.
The smoke was right in the way of Tomora’s landing, and he almost lost the cyborg bastard, if not for the noise. Keeping to Teon’s initial plan, Tomora jetted back out of the smoke and straight forward, almost hitting the rocky terrain before he could see clearly. As long as they could fly and keep their paths clear, they could keep up the flank.
Tomora’s pistols were drawn as soon as boots hit the ground on the other side of the boulders. His droid arms snapped forward. A full battery of plasma and lightning spent off his revolver nailed the Elite across the chest. No electric shock, despite the burning spread; his armor was thick. Tomora’s Bryar pistol vibrated through his clutch as its charging shot hit capacity and burst forward. Faster than his own bionics, the Elite twisted its torso out of the way, leaving the blast to burn through the foliage far behind. Both guns rotated batteries.
The smoke deployed but failed to deter Teon just as it had failed to do so to his Miralukan counterpart. Flying on a curved trajectory to the opposite side of their target that Tomora had taken, he used his free hand to unholster his Double Blaster so he could fire. Set in its semi-automatic mode, it fired concentrated bolts of plasma in bursts of three.
“` Blaster bolts blasted and hammered into the Elite’s armored frame. The assault was fierce and forced the Technocrat backwards into a corner in the form of the gab between the two large boulders they retreated into.
Their armor sparked and sizzled, the beskar fused directly into their skin. They were no longer pristine, and yet, the alloy held its ground and if the weight and pressure of the impacts were affecting the mostly-cybernetic Hunter, it did not show on their calm, dispassionate visige. ”`
“My turn,” they murmued as they fired off a micro wrist-rocket at the “impure” Miraluka advesary. Perhaps that argoance worked against the Hunter as the rocket flew wide, missing entirely, and detonating somewhere off in the distant foliage.
“No matter…” they murmured as they popped out to fire an unaimed volley of blaster bolts from their wrist blaster towards the Bothan, following it up with a shot from their dart launcher.
The dart found an opening on the Bothan, releasing the poison it carried into his body.
Tomora lurched at the piercing pain. Something warm leaked into him, and right away, his muscles around it began to constrict. He needed cover. His arms corrected their trajectory and both pistols fired again as he backed up.
“I’m hit,” he called as he ducked behind the boulder.
“` The Technocratic Elite, in open space with room to run, probably would have been able to evade better. Just so. But with the pincer maneuver by both Weapon Specialist, Tomora’s precision shots, despite the poison dart, found their mark.
The Technocratic Elite took a hit to the shoulder that sent them sprawling backwards and out of cover into the floor of the jungle. ”`
“I’ll cover you, don’t worry!” announced Teon after Tomora ducked behind cover. The Miralukan, though, dashed forward with his beskar vambrace aimed at his target. The telltale shrill cry of the whistling birds exploding from their chambers sounded, affording some time for the Elite to respond before they converged on his location.
“` The Elite, despite prone, rolled frantically across the jungle floor to avoid the deadly impact of Teon’s whistling birds. The third of his volley, however, aimed true, and should have detonated in the Technocrat’s eyeless face.
At the last second, the cybernetic Hunter raised their arm and activated the circular energy shield in their vambrace.
The shield absorbed the impact, but sent them toppling backwards.
Unperturbed, They used that backward momentum to rise into a three-point stance, no emotion on their face as they drew their lightsaber and activated it. ”`
The Technocratic Elite wasted little time trying to find new cover. As the gripped their lightsaber in one hand, they raised their vambrace and fired off a hail of wrist-laser bolts, not really aiming, but just generally peppering the area back and forth between Teon and Tomora.
They managed to slide behind an upturned tree for new cover.
Teon and Tomora were able to strafe, weave, and tactically advance through the spray volley of blaster fire without any getting close to hitting.
After successfully avoiding the laser bolts, Teon quickly activated his Light Shield and rushed toward the Technocratic Elite using his jetpack to propel him at a breakneck pace. He held his shield squarely in front of him and, once he was within striking range, thrust it forward to ram it into the Elite.
The Elite, gripping their saber confidently and defiantly, was ready for quite a few scenarios that their quarry could throw. They were starting to get a bead on the “impure” Miraluka and the Bothan’s patterns.
They were not, apparently, prepared for a full frontal assault from a light shield.
The cyborg Hunter was thrown bodily backwards, mass accelerating from the blunt-force impact as even an Elite was not immune to the laws of physics. Even in a simulation.
The Hunter crashed bodily into a thick tree trunk, and something mechanical snapped and sparked.
Its armor, soldered onto its body, was worn down from the beating it had taken. They managed to stand slowly, saber gripped, and sneered as they balanced awkwardly on one stronger leg that was now compensating for the other.
“Perish…” they sneered in a voice that was neither cybernetic or organic. They lifted their vambrace, made a fist, and twelve whistling birds launched towards Teon and Tomora.
Tomora could barely keep his back straight when he heard the shrieking volley. “Aw, for the love of–”
A pair of holes blew out of his deflector shield so fast he didn’t see the rest of the energy field shattering around them. Trying to juke one bird right only threw him into the path of another. Fire bore into his neck as his helmet split beneath the ear, and the next blast spun the world. Something tugged and then loosened its grip as his shoulder hit the ground and the rest of him rolled over.
The ringing in his ears faded with the blur in his eyes. A sky he almost forgot was fake occupied his immediate gaze. Tomora grimaced and tilted his neck to get his bearings, clenching his teeth at the twisting burn. The right arm of his jacket was hanging on by threads. The hand at its end was empty. Doc had landed ten feet away, right next to his Reynolds pistol. Black marks marred the droid’s paint, but it was still moving, just discombobulated. Clenching his left fist told him the BR-5010 was still there.
The shuttle was past his feet - that meant the enemy was beyond his head.
Tomora snatched the smoke bomb off his belt, broke the ring with his mechanical thumb, and lobbed it overhead in one swift motion. His burnt neck craned to follow it, taking in the world ahead upside-down. By the time he found the elite again, his arm was already snapping up to take a shot. The revolver’s magnum slug found its mark, blowing out a chunk of bloody metal, and still the enemy stood.
Smoke popped out of the bomb nearby, and Tomora shoved himself off his back to get behind it, eating the pain as he rolled into the cover. Kriff, this sim was wild.
At this point, Teon moved on pure instinct, alternating between blocking the micro-missiles with his light shield or slipping just outside their path. He even managed to block one of the whistling birds intended for Tomora. Just when he thought he was going to get out of this situation with no injuries, two of the missiles struck true. His beskar'gam took the brunt of the damage, but the force produced by their momentum landing square in his chest plate knocked the wind out of his lungs and left him with a wicked flash burn beneath his armor.
Still, the Miralukan persisted, using his vambrace to fire a fibrecord with the hopes of ensnaring the Elite. That plan failed when he cut the rope to pieces with his lightsaber. Teon reacted by firing up his jetpack again to relocate, but as soon as he tried …
As the impure Miraluka jetted away, the Elite let out a robotic growl that was not seen on its otherwise stoic, eyeless visage. They reached to their belt, lobbed a stun grenade towards Teon. But the Arconan managed to slip free of the blast radius.
No matter. They aimed into the cloud of smoke, raised their gauntlet, and fired a salvo of blaster bolts, blindly (in a way) towards where Tomora had dissapeared.
The bolts missed their mark as Tomora rolled around. It was good that the smoke was covering him, because it would have looked rather silly to an observer. But none of hte bolts hit him, fortunately.
Returning to his trusty Relby, Teon fired two sonic grenades from its built-in micro-grenade launcher. Although the first one jammed, he quickly freed the spent round from the weapon’s chamber before firing another with all of the speed and efficiency of a career soldier.
THOOMP
The explosive hit the ground near the Elite’s feet and exploded, sending a wave of ionized air surging outward with an audible crack. Anything caught in the pressure wave’s path would learn just how disorienting the compact explosives could be.
The Elite moved, reflexes sharp, still, but they were moving slower from the damage taken leading up. They flew away from the jungle tree line, and skidded back into a prone position before pushing themself up with cybernetic resilience.
When the incoming fire in the smoke ceased, Tomora took the sounds to mean the elite was back on Teon. He took the chance to finally activate his infrared visor. Getting off his back was a momentary struggle with his neck still singeing, but his feet found their balance and steadied. Tomora’s features creased beneath his helmet as he took aim again, free hand hovering at the ready.
The damned machine-freak twisted in perfect timing with the first shot, deflecting the slug off the edge of his tilting breastplate. Tomora held the trigger and slapped the hammer back in the fraction of a second it took his target to shift a leg and counterbalance. The second shot nailed the elite’s gut before it could dodge again.
“` The Technocratic Elite lurched, and black, oily ichor spewed from their lips. Their expression remained muted and blank, and without eyes, it was hard to read if there was any trace of fear.
But body language was unmistakable. They hunched, staggered around drunkenly, and tried to lift their lightsaber up defensively.
But they did not attack or move. ”`
After nodding in Tomora’s direction to acknowledge his successful shot. Then, he proceeded with his own. The first blaster shot missed, but the second one aimed at the Elite’s face struck true. Teon fired while walking forward, squeezing the trigger to fire a blaster bolt empowered by his rifle’s Trandoshan Tripler and other modifications designed to make it pack a much stronger punch than it would have otherwise.
“` The lightsaber hummed and reflexive training sent it in a tight arc to try and intercept Teon’s shots. They were able to turn away the first, but in their fatigue, their cybernetically fueled muscles twitched and spasmed and moved more slowly than they needed to.
The modified blasts tore through the artificial-Miraluka’s eyeless visage, splitting muscle, sinew, bone, and cybernetic nanite alike.
The head snapped unnaturally from the impact. The body slumped awkwardly and wilted like a cut flower into a boneless puddle of black ichor mixing around them.
Only Teon and Tomora remained. ”`
When the dust finally settled, the smoke didn’t linger much longer. Tomora pointed his pistol skyward, huffing through a beating chest as he watched the Teon-shaped heat reading approach the dying enemy. His head loosely lowered, and he turned back to find his droid stand-in. Seeing the BD intact, he twirled and holstered his revolver and shoved his helmet off and onto the ground. His mouth hung loose as he pulled back his mane and caught his breath. That simulated burn in his neck still felt too real for its own good. “…Ow,” he practically announced, just to call out the pain.
A beep made Tomora’s ear twitch. At the second, his head snapped back to the elite. The assassin droid flashed in his mind. “Hit the deck!” he shouted, diving onto Doc.
Teon sprang to action upon hearing Tomora’s shouted command, putting his jetpack into maximum thrust to propel himself backward as far and quickly as possible, away from the Technocratic Elite. All the while, he kept his plasma shield in front of his body, having switched to it from his rifle quickly.
“` The Technocratic Elite detonated, an exhothermic heat expanding suddenly and rapidly from the epicenter of its body. The jungle scorched and burned, but the impact and shockwave fused reality and simulation into a tangled mess.
This time, as the "smoke” cleared, both Teon and Tomora found themselves back in the Training Center. They stood on the now-dormant grid-like flooring.
“`
"Congratulations!” C3D3 chirped. “You did not actually perish,” the holographic AI added.
Above, the Exarch looked down from the observation area. “Good job, both of you,” he spoke through the speakers in the room that amplified his voice from behind the transparisteel.
“The actual Hunters might behave differently in real time, but you’ve done a great service to both the Envoy Corps and the Inquisitorius for us to have valuable data.”