No One Liners
Join Date: Dec 2005
Location: Scotland, UK
Current Game: SWOTR
Her eyes burning with rage, Beryl strode in the direction of her brother. She had never felt the Force flowing so strongly within her as she did now, and she didn’t care whether or not she was using the Light side or the Dark side. Ryshana was dead—killed by her brother. And as if that weren't bad enough, she had been killed dishonorably. Just like the man at the cantina on Coruscant wearing unearned bloodstripes, shooting someone under the guise of a truce was just as dishonorable in the eyes of a Corellian. Berasmus had to pay for his crimes.
The Admiral was attempting to regroup his troops, but with the Clone Troopers unceremoniously disarmed by Jeez, they were just obstacles in Beryl’s way. He noticed an unfamiliar look in his sister’s eyes—a mixture of hate, sorrow, and vengeance. Still, his expression remained stoic. “Beryl, you’ve lost. I don’t want to have to hurt you. Put your weapon down and this can all be over,” he called out to his approaching sister.
Beryl paused then, and turned slowly to look over her shoulder. Jeez was carrying Ryshana’s lifeless body down to the far end of the hanger bay. Sam was following him, but walking backwards, shouting and beckoning to Beryl to come with them. Conn remained where Beryl had left him, peering around a bulkhead and watching her, his eyes reflecting a faint hope that she would abandon her task and join him instead. She smiled at him, but her smile wasn’t entirely friendly, rather it was predatory.
She turned back to Berasmus. “You're right, Nuss. It’s not over yet,” she said in a chillingly calm voice and she started forward once more. Lightsaber burning bright, she swung at the first trooper obstructing her path, slicing him in two at the waist. A second trooper stepped in, intent on doing some hand to hand combat, but a quick flourish of her saber and the trooper suddenly had no arms to do any combat with. With swipe after swipe of her blade, she cut down with impunity any troopers or guards who decided to impede her progress until finally she was pointing her blade at her brother’s chest.
“Why?” Beryl asked. “You killed Ryshana under the guise of negotiation! Why?”
“She was a Jedi,” Berasmus said, his voice as calm as ever. “She’s an enemy of the Empire.”
“She was my friend!”
He eyed her saber, and then the corner of his mouth upturned into a wry grin. “She was more than that to you, wasn’t she?” he whispered. “Don’t be lured into becoming their pawn.”
“Pawn? She was my friend, Nuss! And you had no right to kill her like that! No right!” Her blade moved closer and her eyes narrowed venomously. “No Corellian would ever do that,” she hissed.
“I’m an Imperial officer first and foremost. Someday, you’ll understand the meaning of duty and discipline. And you’ll understand that sometimes, sacrifices must be made.”
“Sacrifices? I ought to sacrifice you!” Her blade moved back to strike, but then she hesitated. Berasmus was her brother, her own flesh and blood. She couldn’t kill him. No matter how much she hated him at this moment, she couldn’t do it.
“If you feel you must, then do it,” Berasmus said, his voice maintaining its even measure. “I’m unarmed. I can’t stop you.”
Suddenly, alarms began to blare. Emergency lights near the hanger bay doors began to flash. The remaining prison workers, guards, and troopers, including the people in the control tower, started to evacuate the hanger facility. Not knowing that the planetary shields were down, compliments of Max, they were preparing to vent the entire hanger wing of the facility to the outside atmosphere in an attempt to kill off the remaining escapees. The hanger doors were opening and the shielding around the landing pads had been turned off.
Beryl frowned. If the Echo wasn’t on it’s approach this very minute, they had little time left. She raised her blade to strike once again, but then, through the Force, she detected movement nearby. A prison guard, with a blaster in hand, was taking aim at her. Using her other hand, she drew first and fired, killing him instantly. But then, she felt something pelt her shoulder. And then her thigh. And then her neck. A wave of unsteadiness washed over her as a strong wind began to blow through the hanger.
“I can’t stop you,” Berasmus added, his hair being ruffled by the increasing wind, “but the Major can.”
Beryl blinked. Nuss’ face was starting to blur. In the distance, she heard Sam scream her name. Conn shouted, too, but his words were unintelligible, swallowed by the rushing wind. Her saber and blaster became heavy like lead and fell from her hands to the deck. She tried to take a step back, but her leg buckled. And then her other leg buckled. She reached up to her neck and felt something cylindrical. She pulled at it. It appeared to be some sort of dart. As her fingers lost feeling, it clinked against the floor just as she slumped forward.
She wanted to ask her brother what he had done to her. But no words would come. She was paralysed.
Major Payne appeared from within the corridor, flanked by the Admiral’s personal guards. "That worked rather well, sir," he shouted over the noise of the rushing air as one of the guards lifted Beryl into a fireman's carry.
“Take her to the med bay and give her the antidote,” the Admiral ordered as they all headed for the safety of the back corridor. He gave a backwards look over his shoulder at Doc Conn and the others, then shook his head. “And activate any auto-defences.”
With that said, the Admiral's party disappeared into the corridor. The door shut and then pressurized, leaving the prisoners alone in the hanger bay.
Veni, Vidi, Velcro. (I came, I saw, I stuck around)