// Incoming Transmission…//
//Clearance Code: 584.5221.64.12.9//
//ID: FAHREL LAK - Iridonian Forces//----------- Attached Message (1) -----------
“Sir, we hear chanting from within the building we are tasked for. The voice seems to belong to a female, however it is not in Zabraki. I am attaching the audio file for urgent translation. We shall secure the grounds.”
AUDIO (1):“VISA TAPUIZ SULIG TAVE JEN’. FASONIJA SULIG TAVE JEN’. ZHOL SEKLETI VISA QORIT KASH TAVE JEN’.”
----------- Attached Message (2) -----------
AUDIO (2): //Various distress calls interfere with this recording.//
“We retreat! I repe- w- retreat! Witch- three of us dea- SHE’S COMING HER-.”
//Audible screams.//
// Replying to Transmission…//
//…delayed by 4 standard hours…//
//Clearance Code: 210.478.569.12.1//
//ID: Iridonia Headquarters//----------- Attached Message (1) -----------
We have managed to translate the audio. Do not engage without further reinforcements. The chants are in Sith.
//Translation Attached//:
“ALL CAME FROM THE DARK. ALL IS MADE FROM THE DARK. ALL WILL END IN THE DARK.”
Four Mandalorian infantry, dead. The scene was gruesome, hard to stomach. Inside of the building was already riddled and covered in sanguine blood of past prey, humanoid and not. Once it was a home, and now it looked like the hideout of a beast, of a predator. Where skin and skulls decorated the once-normal looking couches, chairs and tables.
But all that was in there, was a female Zabrak of crimson skin. Wielding no weapon but a simple dagger, shrouded in tribalistic armour of leathers and bones. In the dimly lit room, the armour of the dead upon the ground reflected the slightest bit of light, bouncing off of the Zabrak’s near-indigo blue irises.
The shrieking chant falling from her lips was now insidious, repeated whispers. As she leaned down, and removed the helmet of one of the bodies, like cracking open a crableg and bit down into the man’s neck, flesh and veins snapped, blood spurted. Dyeing her face a brighter shade of red, and she chewed.