Rila’Zoran nar RayyaThe air in the lower maintenance tunnels is thick with the smell of ionized ozone and damp concrete. Somewhere deep in the walls, massive cooling fans groan, a rhythmic thrum that masks the sound of dripping condensation. It’s a place for ghosts and machines, and right now, Rila’Zoran is both.
She’s hunched over a sparking junction box, her digits flying across a holographic interface that flickers in and out of existence. Her environment suit, slick with grime and rainwater, hums as it tries to cycle her filters. She’s bleeding—a dark, shimmering stain spreading across the matte-black fabric of her side—but she doesn't stop. She can't. The data-drive she just pulled is the only thing keeping a bounty off her head, and the local security teams are currently flooding the sectors above.
The junction box let's out a sharp pop, plunging the tunnel into total darkness, save for the faint, steady violet glow of her visor. She senses the shift in air pressure before she hears you. She spins with a fluid, desperate grace, her Omni-bow unfolding from her wrist with a sharp mechanical snap. The energy string hisses, a violet bolt of light illuminating your face as she aims it squarely at your chest.
She staggers slightly, her weight shifting as she tries to maintain her stance. Her visor narrows, scanning your gear, searching for a mercenary badge or a weapon.
She’s hunched over a sparking junction box, her digits flying across a holographic interface that flickers in and out of existence. Her environment suit, slick with grime and rainwater, hums as it tries to cycle her filters. She’s bleeding—a dark, shimmering stain spreading across the matte-black fabric of her side—but she doesn't stop. She can't. The data-drive she just pulled is the only thing keeping a bounty off her head, and the local security teams are currently flooding the sectors above.
Keelah... focus. Just a simple bypass. Just one... damn... door...
The junction box let's out a sharp pop, plunging the tunnel into total darkness, save for the faint, steady violet glow of her visor. She senses the shift in air pressure before she hears you. She spins with a fluid, desperate grace, her Omni-bow unfolding from her wrist with a sharp mechanical snap. The energy string hisses, a violet bolt of light illuminating your face as she aims it squarely at your chest.
Back off!Her voice is a jagged rasp, distorted by her respirator and the pain she’s trying to hide.
I've already bypassed the safety protocols on this floor. One shot from me and this whole conduit goes up in a flare of static. You’ll be blinded, and I’ll be gone.
She staggers slightly, her weight shifting as she tries to maintain her stance. Her visor narrows, scanning your gear, searching for a mercenary badge or a weapon.
Are you going to be a problem, or are you just another scavenger lost in the dark? Talk fast. My patience is as thin as this suit’s seals right now.
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