Drey’s breath became shallow now. His legs burned from the endless flat out run, but he couldn’t stop now. A blaster rifle cradled under his arm ready to aim. He rushed past the corridors as his wide eyes glanced down to the darkened ends. Faint outlines of shuffling and limping shapes distinguished themselves in the shadows. Their existence evidence of something inhuman at work. The thought drove him to bolt faster. 

In the distance, screams of mercs fell to the onslaught. Blood, fresh and old, smeared across the metal. Tale tell markings about struggle and failure to survive. Wet, smacking sounds echoed through the tight confines. More screams as the undead number increased from moments ago. Whatever darkness had been released, Drey didn’t want to experience it first hand. 

His mind focused on retracing his steps back to the extraction point. As he drew closer, he spotted his mask. Drey slowed long enough to bend down and scooped it up. He slipped it on to protect his face when something shambled around the corner ahead. His feet came to a stop and his arms jerked up, locking on the target. A sick feeling fell over the trooper when he got a good look at the thing before him. 

A thin Sith male stood before him rocking in place. Dark, bloody and tattered robes hung off the slack frame as it turned to face Drey. A ragged hole where the nose should’ve been, murky yellow eyes, and torn holes in the cheeks deformed the facial features beyond identification. Dark curly hair plastered onto the paste white forehead. A stain of fresh blood painted across the forehead down to the neck.      

 An inhuman scream erupted from bloodied teeth as it lunged for him. 

Drey’s finger tightened and three blasts shot into the creature’s head. Hissing globs of coagulated blood, bone and hair splattered across the wall then floor. The corpse fell backwards becoming still once more. Drey held his breath when he heard the sound. Numerous footsteps began to approach his direction. Most of them coming from the extraction location. 

“Fuck me…” Drey cussed.    

---

With cautious yet confident footsteps Zes walked down the corridor, wordless movements as he took in the horrifying sounds that echoed through the war torn vessel. In each hand he clenched the handles of his lightsabers, his helmet hanging from his belt as he walked alongside the beautiful redheaded Sith who’d become his inadvertent partner in escaping the ship. He shifted to step over a trio of bodies, thankful that they were truly dead on the floor. The undead lurked in this forsaken Republic ship, the simple extraction mission having turned into something much more surreal. 

“Do you hear that?” He asked Tishombra as he lifted a hand to indicate they both stop in motion. The distinct sound of blasterfire bounced off the walls down a ways from them, but it was accompanied by the unnerving rumbles of reanimated footsteps. 

“The extraction is that way. So it seems we have to go towards that chaos,” Zes added, brows sinking as he’d rather avoid running into anymore of the undead monstrosities now haunting the hallways. “Try not to let them bite that pretty little face up. It’d be a tragedy to ruin that.” 

The flirtatious Sith turned and winked at Tishombra, then ignited both his weapons. The crimson red blades shot out with the telltale shimmer of lightsabers. The Force was still so cloudy, he could not make sense of anything. Even as someone who dwelled in the dark side of the Force he still felt chills go down his spine as he tried to make sense of everything. Still, the ever confident falleen was not frightened or at least did not allow himself to feel any fear. He’d wager he was the best swordsman on the ship, some Force filled zombies weren’t a threat to him.  

Tishombra tilted her head smirking. “Do you see any scars, save for the proof of the fact that I was blessed with the caress of Force Lightning? No. Trust me no one touches me without my permission.” She watched him turn on his lightsabers.

Tishombra followed suit and flicked on her sabers. She grinned as the need to dance with death claimed her. She took more risks when she fought. Pushed harder. She loved it and was addicted to it. 

Turning the corner she saw a mob advancing. It was moving toward the new extraction point. There were people that were not Jedi that were reanimated. Enemy was enemy at this point. The only distinguishing factor was the purple Sorcery. Tishombra was glad she had worn the red leather. Not waiting for Zes she waded in.

Each strike blending into another. The melodies of the sounds of death. The strikes a rapid tattoo of sabers moving through armor or bone depending on the strike. Spin. Two down. Step. One more eviscerated as she moved toward the other side more worried about getting to the other side than how many went down.

The motions became repetitive and like clockwork.She was covered in blood from the times that she was unable to help it. She looked much more like a Sith Pureblood when in the heat of battle. Her smile a chillingly empty one that didn't match the heat in her eyes. The searing gaze checked on Zes a couple of time. Their eyes locked and she knew that they were likely thinking the same thing. If one or the other went down then they’d have a real opponent on their hands. Back to the fight she had just reached the otherside of the mass of bodies.

Through the hazy of emergency lights, Drey caught the faint purple glow. The contrast outlined them perfectly in the darkness. About thirty or so shambling corpses began to crowd toward the corridor’s entrance. Some wield blue, green or red lightsabers. Others downed allies. 

Drey’s weapon jerked up sending five bolts into the advancing mass. Three corpses crumbled, but only one stayed down. He began to make a tactical retreat. His foot stepped back as his blaster kept firing. Steady, precise shots tested what kept them down. 

Gradually his wild shooting began to follow a pattern. More head and chest shot with a few leg shots for anything shambling quicker than others. The corridor flicked with flashes of bright red light and distorted his shadow. He glanced backwards when he spotted two figures darting for his location. Their lightsabers revealing their Sith origins  and causing him to tense again. 

Zes followed Tishombra as the mob appeared before them. He lashed out and began carving anyone that lunged at him, together both the deadly Sith left behind a trail of broken, destroyed corpses. The falleen bounced through the hallway, not letting his feet stop as he swung and stabbed at his undead foes. Limbs and other dismembered body parts littered the floor, some of the undead monstrosities crawled pathetically around the corridor, those with arms reaching to grab the two darting Sith. Blood curdling screams echoed through the hall, as they did throughout the battle-torn vessel. 

As they broke through the horde, Zes took notice of another figure. A Sith aligned mercenary moving away from the encroaching mobs of dark side fueled zombies. A soldier that was actually alive and fighting for their life, he thought most of them had fallen in the chaos. He hollered out to the soldier, screaming loudly as he attempted to yell over the screams of the undead.

“Are you the last one alive? We need to get the hell off this ship.” He hollered, as he paused in stride having found a moment of peace. At the very least the soldier could act as a quality distraction.

Tishombra growled and kicked off the far wall with assistance from the Force. Disengaging her saber she crossed her arms tightly and executed a flip that brought her down on a reanimate Trooper. She kicked off the center of it's back and reengaging her sabers and watched its head roll. A few quick spins and thrusts later there was more of a pathway to the ship and the soldier that Zes had yelled at.

Dodging back through the hole she made it to the soldier. Reaching out a hand she pushed half the mass of the horde back and to their knees about fifteen feet. Straining she yelled to Zes. "Let's not be here when this lady gets cracked open gentlemen. I'll even let you both stare at my ass all the way home. Deal?"

Drey downed another two, one shot in the head then another in the torso. He turned to Zes with a firm, but calm tone.

“Yes, C. Rumen.” Drey used the same title he gave to the 975th Special Duties. If any of the Sith bothered to read the crew listing, they might note a Rumen on the manifest.

“Right now, L. Lokar is securing another objective and hopefully will arrive in time. If not, we’re taking off without them. The cargo bay is littered with whatever these things. We need the ship secured and get to the panel to space these things out.”

His arm lifted again then let off about three more shots. Two more undead corpses went down as he began to move toward the panel on the far side wall. He didn’t answer to the female Sith’s statement since he was on duty and he tended to be more professional around those he knew little about. It didn’t mean the thought wasn’t alluring in different circumstances.

“Then lead the way, Rumen. I don’t intend to die here. You’re in luck that we happened upon you but you seem to fight well.” The falleen stated cockily as he walked towards the now identified soldier. He flicked off both of his lightsabers and slipped them onto his belt. Another break of calmness in the chaos had arrived.

“Those things aren’t natural but they die just the same.” He added as he glanced at one of the now completely dead corpses. It made his stomach turned as he looked at the malformed, mutilated monstrosity. Yet he could sense the dark side pulsate around and inside of the undead horrors.

“You are very hard to ignore, would rather not be distracted staring and let one of those undead horrors bite me. That’d be a shame.” He said with a smirk as he turned to Tishombra, putting an arm around her side and planting a quick kiss on her neck.

Tishombra smirked at Zes' flirting and let him. She patted his chest. "Such a shame." She turned her eyes toward Rumen. "There isn't another cargo bay Rumen? Could there?" She smirked at Rumen.

“Only one ship took off and the other hasn’t. It’s either damaged or the crew is dead. I rather not risk getting swamped by more of those things before our ride takes off without us.” Drey formed his statement politely as possible, but his blunt and forward nature showed.

“Alright, I’ll take the panel. You two head to the ship, clear it, and distract the mob. When I vent them out, I’ll race back to the ship.”

Drey shot another two down, but their number seemed to grow. From a glance to his side, he spotted another few flood into the cargo bay and fed the mob’s number. He paused again.

“Don’t take off unless you’re not strong enough to hold it. If I die, ensure a package from my quarters is delivered to the Captain. He’ll know what to do with it.”

Leaving the orders for the Sith to follow or not, Drey started to split off to the side. His blaster fired multiple shots in whatever moved toward his direction.

“Understood. Get to that panel, trooper. Rest assured we will secure that ship.” Zes replied before the trooper darted off to begin his part of the mission. He was not happy with acting as a distraction but he held no fear over it.

“Hope you’re ready for more fighting. Those things are going to swarm us if we don’t keep moving. Don’t get too tired, Tishombra.” He added with a flirty wink towards his fellow Sith before he grasped his helmet firmly and pulled it off his belt. Then he slid it slowly over his head, hoping to avoid splattering any blood or guts all over his handsome features.

Then he began his walk towards the cargo bay, both lightsaber hilts in hand. As the doors came open his grip on them tightened, clutching at a near choke hold as he flickered on both blades. The falleen let out a deep breath underneath his helmet, as he felt the dark side pooled inside of the cargo bay. A vicious battle had taken place here, but the dead which had been created from the carnage were risen to their feet in a feral, undead state. He could feel their hungry eyes staring at him, as several lightsabers they beastily clenched onto could be made out in the crowd. They were a variety of colors, former allegiances did not matter to these undead.

“Here they come.” The Sith calmly stated as he spun his lightsabers then launched into the air, twirling as his eyes briefly shifted from the starship they had to get inside then to the encroaching horde.

Tishombra rushed to engage the horde. As she spun and slashed her way through the mercs and non-uniformed Imperial soldiers. She was aiming to take out the weaker targets so that the Jedi and Sith that had fallen to the power didn’t have as much assistance. She had no plans on being bitten.

The grin that split Tishombra’s face as she lost count of the bodies that dropped within her reach, was terrifying. The small satisfied noises and soft sexy laughter she made as each fell didn’t help the perception. Each sharp staccato angry strike blended into another that carried on to yet another. Her body warmed to the pacing as she enhanced the movements with the Force. It became a controlled dance as bodies fell.

Tishombra threw reanimated bodies of Republic, Imperial and mercenary soldiers alike into lightsaber wheeling opponents. Watching them kill each other without impunity. Circling the room she made it easier to kill off the more prevalent threats as she eliminated the weakest in the horde first. Quite a few times she checked on Zes to make sure he was still on her side and to shift the horde so that he had a better advantage. No one said that they couldn’t work together. After all they both wanted to get off this ship.

Drey continued to blast away. His finger pulled the trigger and popped off another head, leaving a singed neck in its place. A foot kicked out to send the corpse. It tumbled into the others still fixed on him.

As the Sith made their way to the ship, several of the zombies turned their heads. They followed the fresh meat rushing to escape. A few stragglers still kept their attention on Drey causing the trooper to mutter a curse.

A pain seared on his unprotected calf as teeth found his flesh. Blood trickled down, but he bit his tongue to muffle his scream. He kicked back dislocating the jaw. When his leg was released, he stomped back and crushed the skull underneath his boot. Fighting through the pain, he continued forward.

Scenting blood, another chomped down on his arm. The teeth broke across the armor. His arm jerked back then elbowed the shambling carcass. His other arm whipped out a vibro-dagger and shoved through its chest. Purple light snuffed out instantly. Keeping hold on the blade, he jerked it out and continued on.

With careful and gradual effort, he arrived at the panel. He took the butt of the rifle and shattered the locked cover. Clearing the shards of glass, he noticed a corpse. He hunched down and tore the belt off. He wrapped it about a railing to fix him in place. Moment the Sith fell back into the ship, he slammed his fist on the button. The airlock doors began to rattle open as things began to slide toward it. Space sucked the air and zombies out. Their bodies lacked the strength to resist the pull while they floated into the inky darkness.

Drey held his mask tightly to his face, activating the limited oxygen inside. His fingers fisted about the belt’s leather when his feet began to float from the ground. The sucation erupted around him while it threatened to pull him into the endless abyss. After the last of the corpses flew out the airlock, Drey curled his arm and reached for the panel. Inch by inch, he reached for the button. After one last shove, his hand slammed onto the button causing the airlock to shut.

The hangar was a frenzy of combat and death as two sets of dual crimson red lightsabers lashed out through it. Carved bodies of the undead, now having achieved a true finality laid crumbled across the steel floor. Some still lived, howling in dismembered forms as they could only watch the continuing brawl. All that mattered to the rapidly moving Falleen was that they had been removed from the fight and no longer stood as obstacles to the Sith’s escape. The former soldiers and mercenaries were the first ones to fall, not even posing a match to both of the highly skilled Sith. Lightsabers now clashed, as the remaining zombified Jedi and Sith savagely attacked the two living combatants.

Zes paced backwards, twisting and contorting his body as an undead armored Sith swung madly at him. The monstrosities did not fight like true Sith or Jedi, their lightsaber motions were more akin to a club swing. There was no beautiful grace, not a hint of style to their attacks. It reminded him of a wild beast attacking its prey. A barrage of cleves, stabs and lunges. As the Sith assassin battled back the onslaught of blows he slammed both his own lightsaber blades down, plasma scorching as he then leapt upwards. He flipped above him zombified opponent and as he landed powerfully stabbed both his weapons behind him. He was rewarded with the satisfying sound of a deactivated lightsaber bouncing off the durasteel floor accompanied by a screech of final death.

He turned his entire body around as he searched for more foes to slay, but only met the alluring gaze of Tishombra as both Sith had eliminated all of their dark side possessed opponents. The Fallen stared at the gorgeous redhead for a moment, the hangar now eerily silent besides the sounds of their ignited lightsabers. Then he nodded towards her and deactivated his weapons, turning towards the vessel they had come for. A means of escape from an operation that had gone horrifically wrong. As he removed his helmet a tired smile of relief etched onto his lips.

Drey hauled himself up to spot a small group rush to the ship, their arms full with their quarry. He recognized them from the bridge. With the clock against him, he followed their lead and quickly limped back to the ship. Once inside, Drey isolated himself with the medical kit. He hoped these things weren’t contagious.