Private Regis sighed as he punched in the override code to the residence of Doctor Scorn, not too thrilled with having to do the task at hand. The good Doctor had passed away due to a sudden heart attack a few nights ago and a search of the stations database revealed no living relations. Therefore his possessions were to be inventoried, which was Regis' task, packed up and sent to the bazaar for auctioning. He never liked visiting places the dead once lived, always feeling the spirit of the deceased was watching him, giving him goosebumps. He couldn't find an excuse to deny this assignment however, thus why he was here. A sharp hiss announced the acceptance of the code as the door opened, revealing the dark interior of the homestead within. With another sigh Regis went in, intent on getting this task over with. He flipped on the lights, to reveal a modestly decorated flat before him, and got to work.

About an hour later of diligent inventorying, Regis had made note of everything he had found in the residence, yet something didn't seem quite right. What a minute, isn't this supposed to be a seven room flat? He thought. A quick recount on the number of rooms confirmed his suspicions: the place only had five rooms. Regis knew there had to be two other rooms somewhere, as all housing in this sector had standardize seven room residences. Taking out his comm unit, he hailed his Supervisor.

~Sergeant Cornelius here.~ Answered the monotone voice of his Supervisor.

"Sir, Private Regis here." Regis said into the device. "I'm at Doctor Scorn's residence. I've completed the inventory, but there's two rooms unaccounted for."

There was a brief period of silence. ~'Unaccounted for'?~ His supervisor said, a note of puzzlement evident in his voice. ~You sure?

"Positive sir. I've doubled checked the number of rooms here and only counted five, when there should be seven."

~Well rooms don't just get up and walk away Private, they have to be there somewhere. I'll have a floorplan of the standard housing in that sector forwarded to you.~

"Thank you sir. Regis out." Regis turned off the comm device and waited patiently for a few minutes before his datapad beeped in the code of incoming information. Switching on the viewscreen, he studied the floorplan and determined where the entryway of the biggest of the two missing rooms should have been. He found a bookcase in his way, the room it was in was some sort of study, the subject matter of the books in it of studies of various alien creatures. These he had already inventoried and he fancied it would take a while for someone to buy them, but the matter of whether or not something would sell or not was not his current concern.

The door should be here. Regis thought as he searched around the bookcase. The bookcase was nearly flush against the wall, making it impossible to see if there was a door really behind it. He tried moving it, but it was so heavy with books he couldn't even budge it. Undeterred, he started removing the books to lighten the case, but when he tugged on a book called 'Human Anatomy' the bookcase suddenly emitted a loud click and slid to the side, revealing a dark space behind it. It wasn't completely dark in there, for he could see various blinking and steady lights, but it wasn't until he found the light switch that he got the shock of his life.

He may be only a Private, but he was pretty certain what he was looking at was against the housing rules of the station. The room had been converted into some sort of lab, various electronic equipment and instruments lined along the walls of the large room. That was impressive in on itself, but what shocked him even more was what was in the center of the room.

It was a large, cylinder tank about five feet in diameter, it's top almost reaching the ceiling. Around the base were various viewscreens, panels and buttons, randomly flickering with various information: life sign readings he realized upon closer inspection. He would have thought this was a bacta tank of some sort, if not what was inside of it.

Inside, floating limp and seemingly lifeless was a large black being. The head looked reptilian, only with three sets of eyes, each set larger then the other towards the back of the head. The eyes were framed by ridges, one along the top of the snout, and one on each side of the face: these ridges changed to yellow half way down their length and darkened to red at the end. The crown of the head had a series of 'bumps' and he could see a hint of a pair of sharp fangs protruding from it's mouth. The head was attacked to a modest neck that was about as long as the head was, the body was long as well, the back topped with a 'blanket' of black course hair, which ended in a 'false tail' at the rear.

The limbs of the creature were long and thin, each paw ending with three digits, each digit ending in a sharp claw, which were dark grey in color. The hind legs were digitigrade and the forepaws looked like they could function as hands if the creature wanted to, as the inner most digit looked to be positioned to serve as a thumb. It was hard to judge size with it being in the tank, but Regis gathered it stood five feet at the shoulder on all fours, around ten feet if it was capable of standing on it's hind legs.

What are you? Regis thought as he approached the tank. Why did the Doctor keep you here? He had certainly never seen the likes of this thing before. Was it sentient? How long had it been here? These questions and more ran through his mind, but he knew he wasn't in the right field to try to answer those questions himself. He had a job to do here and won't his supervisor be surprised to see the result of this inventory. Taking one last look at the creature, he turned to find the other room, which was thankfully open and looked to be a standard office. Regis decided to continue the inventory there, as it would be easier to mark down things more familiar to him. Right now, all he could think of to annotate the creature on the inventory list was 'creepy black creature in tank'.

He was only halfway through inventorying the office when there was loud crack, the sound fo water spilling onto the floor, and the thud of something heavy and organic landing on the floor. His eyes widening in horror, he realized he must had accidentally pushed some sort of 'release' button on the console around the tank. His training kicking in, he upholstered his carbine and cautiously peeked from behind the doorway to look into the lab. The creature was shakily getting to it's feet, unknown amounts of time being in that tank has obviously affected it's ability to use it's limbs somewhat. It coughed a few times and yawned, revealing fully it's fangs along with five smaller sets of teeth: three on the bottom jaw and two on the upper set behind the fangs. The now open eyes were as black as it's leathery hide, making it impossible to tell which way it was looking and what he thought were ridges were in fact tendrils of flesh that where now waving almost hypnotically in the air.

Regis turned his head back, his weapon tight in his hands, wonder what he should do. Calling for backup was one thing, but he was trapped in this room and who knows how sensitive that things hearing was, meaning that he would likely be dead before backup arrived. One thing was for certain, that creature had to be hungry and it's teeth told him it was no vegetarian.

The sound of footsteps caught his attention: dear gods it was approaching the room! Slowly he backed as far away from the door as possible, his carbine aimed towards the door. All too soon the black head of the creature appeared, followed by the rest of it. It paused in it's stride when it spotted him and seemed to study him a moment before sitting down on it's haunches, blocking Regis' only means of escape.

//Where am I?\\ A voice intruding in his head. Was that thing....speaking to him? Though he was terrified beyond measure, he found the words slipping from his lips easily.

"You're on the station Astral Astoria." He replied. "On the 150th floor, Section H, residence of Doctor Scorn."

//Scorn...\\ The creatures eyes narrowed, but other then that there was no other indication of emotion. //Where is he...the one that had imprisoned me?\\

"Dead. He died a few days ago."

//A pity. Which system is the station in then?\\

"I'm not sure." Regis admitted. "I've heard we are in the Corporate Sector, in the middle of a major hyperspace route called the Hydian Way."

There was a clear expression on the creatures face now: confusion, meaning it did not know the place he was talking about. This meant it had either been in that tank for a very long time, or it's 'home' was very far away indeed: maybe even from another galaxy. "What are you? Do you have a name?" He dared to ask.

The creature tilted it's head to one side, a slight frown on it's face. //Tuezo...is what we call ourselves.\\ It replied. //I call myself Vaalm.\\

"Private Regis, of the Police Corps." Regis said with a nod, lowing his weapon: it seemed peaceful enough. "Maybe we can find a way to get you home."

//No, no one must know of me.\\ The creature said sternly. With startling quickness, it lunged. Regis fired a couple of shots but both missed it and he found himself overwhelmed by the thing. It's powerful arms held him close, the stench of whatever fluid that it was once floating in assaulting his nose as the creature bit down on his neck. Regis struggled, but futilely as his life blood was drained from his body and finally he collapsed, his life force extinguished.

When a pair of officers sent by Sergeant Cornelius arrived at the scene they found Regis as Vaalm had left him in the hidden office. Vaalm itself, was long gone, leaving no trace of it's existence beyond the now bloodless corpse of Regis and the broken stasis tank.

(ooc: -Uncolored piccy of a Tuezo, plus some 'spoiler' info-)

I think that's enoguh to drink Lash. Lash thought as he finished his fifth drink of the night at the Astral Astoria. He looked for something to do as he slid the empty drink to the end of the counter.

Perhaps a Bounty was in his midst? Good place to look.

He switched on his Bounty vision that one of his old droids (who is destroyed now) installed into his Mandalorian helmet. He looked around, but the confusing green letters showed no Bounties. Maybe he should head back to his quarters, and rest.

He stood up from the set, and head back to his room. He was just coming to his quarters, when the strangest thing that had ever happened to him occured- a voice boomed in his head. It made his head pain. Holding onto his helmet he slid the key card through the slot, and went into the room, almost screaming out loud from the pain. The voices became clear suddenly.

//Where is he...the one that had imprisoned me?\\

Lash held onto his head as his conciousness felt like it was leaving him.

//...no one must know of me...\\

Suddenly Lash's eyes widened as he saw a vision of a hunched over black creature biting into the neck of a man- scary.

Just then the pain left, as the vision ended with the monster escaping through a window.

Lash stood up- he had to know the rest of this- what had just happened, and why? He stormed through the halls, as he heard the scream of a man- perhaps the vision- he quickly created a hole in the ceiling with his missile launcher, and jumped through.

There were men. He killed them with ease with his handblasters, and saw the body- bitten in the neck. What the hell was going on? He initiated his jetpack sequence, and launched through the window, eager to find out what this was. Hopefully it wouldn't pick up on his stench...

Vash set in one of the many bars, of the many casions, of Astral Astoria. After several drinks his mind had begna to wonder. He wondered what he had been, who he had been, before going into his hybernation. He took a final drink and slammed it down on the bar. He wasn't drunk, not by a long shot. He never did like drinking, anything that dulled his senses was something to be deterred. He exited the bar quickly, making sure the bartender didnt say anything to him.

This particular hallways was extraordinarily desolate. There seemed to be any eery feeling in the air. Vash took a look behind him, just in case.

"I could have swore this was the way to my room..." He said to himself. A light flickered behind him and his pistol came out of his holster in an instant. He laughed to himself as he pointed his pistol into the empty hallway. He holstered his pistol and turned around.

In an instant it was on him. Whatever it was. Out of nowhere something had came from the ceiling, or the floor, or the wall, it didnt matter, he could feel sharp claws in the cracks of his armor. Even straight under the light the creature seemed to be enveloped in darkness.

As it was ontop of him, his mind seemed to be flooded. Not thoughts or words, but more like a buzz. A disruption of some kind. He couldn't concentrate, he couldnt think.

The thing had him on the ground now, his arms at his side. His mind was blank now, nothing. Vash flailed his body, heaving the creature into the air. He scrambled forward and stumbled to his feet. He whipped out his pistols and spun around.


Gone.


For a second Vash was mad, but that passed as he realized that it wasnt his problem anymore.


He holstered his pistols and continued down the hall. He would investigate further. Not tonight, his head hurt now. Tomorrow.

((I hope this is to your liking... can you PM me anything I find out? Thanks.))

Vincent Hath is an Investagator for the Astorian Security. One of the best. Vince, although he gave the impression of being a clean cut, average joe, with short cut brown hair, and a moustache, he was truly unique. He was responsible for some of the more... odd investigations. There were many cultists in the Galaxy. Vincent had seen a lot of messed up things for people wanting to sacrifice things to their 'Messiahs', 'Demons', 'Devils', and what have you. Many of which were just 'anomolies of nature'... even had some Jedi spouting about them being beasts created by the 'Dark Side'.

Vince's office was full of oddities. A wooden desk being one of them, since most chose durasteel for it was cheaper and lasted much longer. But Vincent liked the classical one could say. It would explain why his walls were covered in books. Physical, page by page books. Many of which were about the things he investigated, to give him an idea of what he was dealing with. Varying from 'The Gods of Azguardia' to 'The Ways of the Force' by Exar Kun. Right now, Vincent was finishing up writing a report on a Hapan woman who was convinced that sacrificing young woman would extend her life... and most sources showed the 20 year old to actually be 50. Many strange things he'd seen in his day indeed...

The door to his office buzzed and Vincent Hath looked up from his paper work. He sighed slightly and looked down at the papers he was filling out. "Enter!" Vincent shouted as he a portly fellow with a badge on his chest enter the room.

"Hey Chief. What can I do for ya?" Vince said in his meek voice.

"One of our boys, Private Regis, got killed on level 150, sector 5D." The portly man grumbled as he through a file on Vince's desk.

Vince looked at the file and back at the Chief. Vince picked it up and start flipping through it. The file contained nothing weird. The guy seemed pretty basic. "And why is this on my desk Chief?"

"Now here's the weird stuff... this is the stuff from the crime scene. Now, I normally don't bring you in on this kind of stuff but the investigators say they've got this weird vibe you know?" The chief said as he handed over the rest of the files he had with him and he headed towards the door. "Besides, your one of the best we've got Hath. Even if this isn't in your... field of expertise we could use your help. Now you get down there, and get to the bottom of this before we end up with every tabloid in the galaxy taking away our business!"

With that, the Cheif went back out of the room, heading back to his office. Vince sat back in his chair, looking through all the holos. Illegal lab... something obviously loose now... Regis with most of his bodily fluids drained with a bite on his neck? It was all more odd than the normal fair. Vince had read of Vampires in some of his books but could they exist? There was something loose on the ship... and whatever it is, it likes to kill. He'd have to work fast. Vincent opened his desk and fetched his pistol and holster, donning it, and his trenchcoat. After a quick adjustment of the badge, Vince was on his way to the crime scene.

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The scene was abuzz with people when Vincent arrived. The good Doctor Scorn was semily famous in the known systems for his 'Odd Experiments'. Vincent already saw the headlines and the requests for everyone to reinvestigate the conditions of Scorn's death. Those floating holodroids are a pain, when you're trying to get to a destination. Vince even almost pushed down a Twi'lek reporter for GNN on his way, though he quickly appologized.

One of the guards quickly let Vincent in and shut the door behind him. Much of the scene was still intact. There was a quick meeting between Vince and one of the others on the case, a human woman by the name of Serra Liang. They made it quickly through the pleasantries and to the meat of the subject. It was good the matching they found out. Serra was proficient with the physical investigation, and Vincent the metaphysical.

Vincent began to search through Scorn's personal files and records, even his reading selections, to see what he can figure out. It's always nice to get a profile on one of the accomplices, even if said accomplice is dead. While Vincent was doing this, Serra was working on analyzing the lab, and awaiting the final return from his remains. They were going to get to the bottom and find out who, or what, is loose in the Astoria before more die...

Escape. That was the only thing on Vaalm’s mind at the moment. To escape this lab, once his prison, and find a secluded place to rest and think over his current situation thoroughly. Thankfully the knowledge he had gained from feeding on Regis gave him a basic layout of the station and he knew now that the best place to find a hiding spot would be the lower levels. The problem though, was getting there.

Avoiding being seen complicated things, he already had to nearly flatten a man, blasting his mind with a numbing psyonic wave to prevent him from wanting to pursue. Through Regis’ knowledge he gathered is was approaching the ‘nighttime’ phase on the station, but there were still a lot of people roaming the corridors and alleyways of the station. Fortunately he managed to find one of these ‘shifters’ easily enough, basically by retracing Regis’ steps to it. There was a problem however: Tuezo vocal cords were incapable of speaking most languages in the galaxy, including Basic, thus he couldn’t give the device a general location to give it by speaking to it.

Forced to stand upright in the booth, Vaalm pondered his immediate situation a moment, all to aware that he could have been spotted entering this booth. With a claw he managed to type out the floor number 32, figuring it would be a good floor as any on the lower level to go. But then the device asked for a section, making him sigh with annoyance. Not wanting to delay this any longer, he simply pushed ‘1A’. What an odd feeling, the feeling of being pulled apart then put back together again an instant later. Now was not the time to be ponder about that situation. He had gotten to a less populated floor, now to find a hole to hide in.

The place was dark, damp, and if a Tuezo had any real sense of smell it would have smelled the ‘lovely’ scent of oil and grease. His heat sensitive feelers peeled away from his head, waving slightly in an attempt to detect any heat sources. There were heat sources all right, from the various pipes that lined the corridor he was in, but none from a living organism that he could detect. Assured that no one was around, he set off and a leisurely trot, focusing his two smaller sets of eyes: his night sight eyes, and his heat sensors to navigate.

After a short period of time the corridor widened to a small residential area, at which Vaalm paused to double check his surroundings. Here he detected other living beings, but not nearly as many as on the floor he came from. Were these the lowest ranking members of this station? Homeless individuals perhaps that had stowed away on the station? There was no way of telling from his position and his top priority was to find a safe place to rest and think. So he ignored the humanoids roaming the main ‘street’ of this area, sticking to the side corridors and alleyways. It didn’t take long for him to find an old store room, it’s sliding door firmly jammed at an angle toward the outer frame. It was a tight fit, but Vaalm was able to squeeze though the opening.

Inside there were a few large crates and boxes the humanoids obviously couldn’t move out of the room when the door decided to jam on them and left them there. Vaalm rearranged them slightly so that they would block the view from the door: to keep noisy beings from seeing him when he was at his most vulnerable. He pulled off a tarp made a makeshift nest out of it: Tuezo’s preferred natural materials for their beds, but beggars can’t be choosers. Finally settling down, he allowed his feelers to flatten against his head once more. First his largest, daylight sight eyes closed, then the middle set, and finally the smallest set and he quickly feel into a natural sleep that had been denied to him for an untold amount of time.