Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

A Day In Paradise

Jar'varkh hoisted the pickax above his head, grunting with the motion before slamming it down into the wall of the dimly lit mine. The Noghri barely wore anything, just a collection of dirty rags that covered his bare, grey flesh. His feet were exposed, hardened from the elements and black from the spice. As the tool made contact with the wall, a section of the web came free. He bent down to grab it, dropped his ax to the side as he rose the chunk and tossed in into the wheelbarrow behind him. And off he went to continue his boring, dull, and hard labor in the pitch-blackness of the spice mines. The spice wasn't really spice at all, glitterstem was what they called it. Glitterstem was actually produced by Energy Spiders, the Glitterstem being the webs they produced.

The Noghri reflected on past events of the encounters with such creatures were almost always fatal. At least for those who weren't Noghri. Jar'varkh had already killed a pair of them during his time in the mines, his keen eyesight giving him an advantage over the other slaves here. It was pitch black and his vision was almost on par with that of nightvision. Jar'varkh reached down to grab his pickaxe, continuing his slaving as he attempted to focus on getting the work done and making it back safely to the barracks.

Little did the Ex-Death Commando know that today was to be a big day for the mining authorities. The HoloNet feeds were exploding with advertisements as they were offering a sale on Glitterstem here on Kessel, attracting beings from every corner of the galaxy to gain some spice and indulge themselves in its telepathic and mental benefits.

@[member="Sargon Vynea"] @[member="Vice"] @[member="Isis Fontana"] @[member="Aedan Miles"]
@[member="Vice"] @[member="Mirshen"] @[member="Jar'varkh"]
Aedan Miles was sitting in the command chair of the Dragon's Roost his Impetus-class Frigate. The Corsairs were here today to break up the rumored slave ring that was going on here. Floating behind his ship were the rest of his armada with a couple Facade-class carrying shuttles. On his command the shuttles were to launch and pick up the troops on all of his ships and then start moving them to the area to take out any and all opposition. Yes these corsairs were going in to disrupt a slave ring and get money. But it could also be seen as a recruiting mission. As they dropped out of hyperspace Aedan pressed a command on his chair and a klaxon went off announcing that they had arrived it was time to begin the operation. As he watched the command table his fighters all launched into space and then he turned and jogged down the passage. The fighters would be more then enough to keep their fighters busy after all they were Devastator-class fearsome alone deadly in groups. As he boarded a shuttle he looked around at @[member="Vice"] and @[member="Mirshen"]. "All right guys lets do this Vice once on station three squads of Crags will be taking orders from you. Mirshen you and the SPT are to move to secure any kind of cash area. I will go with Vice here and help free the slaves. Now remember it may be a good day to die but its not our day its their day."

Once he was finished the shuttles would all launch and a grin crossed Aedan's lips. yes today would be interesting they were here to cause chaos and free slaves. Slavery was something the young captain was against with extreme prejudice no one knew why and no one ever asked. But today they were here for cash and freeing slaves and the Dark Jedi wouldn't stop until he had accomplished his goal.
Mirshen looked at everyone while he stood there in his iron skin, modified to be under his jacket and hold with holsters the jackal pistols His helmet went down hissing as it pressurized and he prepared to go and shoot things. Getting spare clips for the slugthrowers and popping his neck. Oh yes he looked like a bad ass and now it was time to prove it. He could do that and have a smile on his face. There was so many things while he let Aedan speak before walking around. "Alright then we'll have our squad and be awesome... Or we will totally fail and be laughed at. Strike a pose people."
Isis ship came out of hyperspace as it was called in from the lord admiral himself to break open a slave operating on the planet below, as it did she ordered it into evasive manuevers and then ordered her own captain to take the helm, Isis was dressed in her robes and had her weapons attached to her body armor and then walked out of the command bridge and directly for the drop ships, upon entering into the hangar bay she looked at her soldiers as she walked up swaying her hips and then they all boarded and she stood there with over 50 spec-ops troops and waited for the ship to land on the planet, upon the drop ship leaving the wasp-class b heavy cruiser she seen the other drop ships launching and headed toward the planet, it was a full scale operation that had, for now, CIS and the Fringe working together on this mission...but not closely together since like the CIS this could be a chance to procure a ew extra soldiers for the fringes legions.
A thud sounded, brushing dust from the ceiling of the mine into Jar's eyes. His golden eyes blinked hard, clearing themselves of foreign materials as his vision readjusted. A small light was shining from the far end of the tunnel, a single man stepping out to clear his throat and yell at the toiling slaves. "Everybody back in here, now!" Upon his shout, several other men shot past him to keep pace with the prisoners who failed to move at a pace deemed necessary by the slaver. The thugs carried batons and whips, bashing and kicking anyone who slowed down or failed to instantly comply. Jar'varkh wasn't a big figure, yet his prominent muscles and predatory appearance kept most of the henchmen away from him, giving the Noghri solace in the fact that he was scary-looking.

Once all of the slaves were inside the compound, the lead slaver slammed the door shut and spun around, his eyes beady and his face red. "We're under attack. Some karking morons decided to fething fire on our assets, so we'll give them something to shoot at." The man snickered, giving a menacing demeanor. "You bunch of sorry feths are going to be in the front once they land; shoulder-to-shoulder is how I want you boys and girls." The man snapped his fingers and even more thugs appeared to surround the prisoners, all of them toting blaster rifles, rocket launchers, and a variety of other small weapons. Jar'varkh's eyes gleamed at the sight, his commando instincts flowing through his bloostream as he identified each weapon. A light smile touched his grey lips, his fangs revealing themselves by a fraction. "[Morons...]" He spoke under his breath in native Honoghran.

And so, with with prodding of blaster barrels, all of the slaves stacked up at the main entrance of the compound's doors. The slaves were too terrified to even turn around to look at their captors, who had no doubt set up defensive positions, their blasters poised at the main doors. In orbit, this was another matter. What little fighters and ships the slavers had were primitive, older models that lacked the military capability of any modern fleet.

@[member="Aedan Miles"] @[member="Isis Fontana"] @[member="Mirshen"] @[member="Vice"] @[member="Sargon Vynea"]
@[member="Jar'varkh"] @[member="Mirshen"] @[member="Isis Fontana"]

Aedan Miles was looking at the shuttles little radar display and bit back a curse calling back a few squadrons he had them run escort while the rest finished off the remains of the Slavers defense forces. He glanced back at Mirshen and nodded his head lightly. "Pilots full speed ahead. I want to get their before those Fringers we were here first this is our score." He opened a channel to the flagship and spoke calmly "This is Captain Aedan miles of the Corsair Brotherhood requesting to know who dares interfere with a Corsair assault on Kessel. If you come as an ally then I thank you but the loot here is ours and the slavers will all die we take no prisoners from their ranks. We free the slaves and offer them transportation off this rock. That is the end of this story if you wish to ally with them then i will have no choice but to call for the rest of my fleet to jump in system." With that he cut the channel and prepared to go into the building first. "All right men if you see prisoners do not fire on them make sure to get them to safety focus your fire on the Slavers AIM TO KILL BOYS!"
@[member="Aedan Miles"] @[member="Jar'varkh"]

Mirshen looked at the boy and popped his shoulders with a grin. "Oh this is going to be fun, slavers, violence, explosions, people dying, froce breaker grenades making everyone crazy and crooked cops. Its like life day came early instead of Aedan when staring at Tegan." He gave a laugh and produced one of the grenades, a wonderful thing and he had spent a whole gem to get a single case of twelve. Good thing he had whatever Jun and aedan had left over.... He had made certain to track theirs down first before spending them. Cause just because your rich doesn't mean you spendn your own money... Means you spend others to stay rich.
@[member="Mirshen"] @[member="Jar'varkh"]

Aedan Miles looked out of a view port as the shuttles breached the minimal atmosphere of Kessel and he glanced over at Mirshen "Hey Mirshen you are under attack and overwhelmed what would you do?" He looks back towards the main prison/fortress his face grim. "I know what I would do. Round up the prisoners and either A hold them hostage or B use them as a human shield. Now we need to assume that they are doing both Mirshen. Its your job to come up with a way to get around this without killing a single prisoner if possible." He glanced towards the Cragmoloids who rode with them knowing that they would be the turning point. "I want SPT to focus on extracting the prisoners first and then join the battle full force." As he talked Aedan was pulling on a robe that was black and nodding to two of the Cragmoloids who carried large bags over their shoulders.

"We will have to blow an entrance in the side and count on the armor to defend us while you evacuate the prisoners I hope we get the placement right if we don't we may kill some of the prisoners." HE turns to the Cragmoloids and nods his activating his comlink so the other squad commanders could hear him. "All right guys we are going in to extract slaves and kill slavers show no mercy to the slavers. We will be blowing a hole in the wall to get in I will attempt to locate where the slaves are so we don't hit the. I want 3 squads to act as a shield while the rest of us advance on the slavers position to remove them. That is if they are entrenched using the slaves as shields. If they aren't we move towards where they are held and try to think of a way to get them out of their with as few casualties as possible."
"Bah your speaking as if I can be overwhelmed, remember my shots don't kill they heal. The people will be fine buddy those holes are full of love and understanding. Or I do what is needed and use lots of sharp pointy things to handle the situation. Oh good times, good times. Now come on lets go and have some fun. If there are slaves down there I want to find one and tell her she is your girlfriend now... The look on her face will be priceless." He double checked the equipment and prepared looking at the new soldiers they had. "Woah.... Someone eats their wheaties."
Jar'varkh stood as stiff as a rock in the bulky mass of slaves blocking the main doors. The interior of the compound was two stories, many of the slavers and mercenaries had mounted automatic weapons positions on the high ground. Not only that, it was nearing nighttime and they'd be able to use the mining complex's central electric grid system to render their foes blind. Given the tactical analysis, Jar'varkh figured the slavers wouldn't even have enough common sense to take cover. They were untrained, uncoordinated, and pushed around by greed. In the eyes of a trained, experienced Ex-Death Commando, Jar'varkh almost spat upon them. Their methods and tactics were a disgrace to all warfare. Still, he was the one standing still with a multitude of weaponry trained at his back whilst even more unknowns lurked outside.

"[My clan of the Baikh'vair shall instruct you incompetent fools in the arts of warfare and the fundamentals of killing.]" The Noghri whispered under his breath as his yellow eyes surveyed the area for the thirtieth time. Oh how Jar'varkh wished for the sensation of a blade's hilt in his hand, the smell of fresh blood in the air, and the hearty thump of a corpse dropping to the ground.

Oh yes. Warfare was an art to this being.

@[member="Aedan Miles"] @[member="Mirshen"]
@[member="Jar'varkh"] @[member="Mirshen"] @[member="Vice"]

Aedan Miles was one of the first people off of the shuttle sprinting as quickly as he could to the all he leaned against it for a moment closing his eyes and turning to face the wall as he reached out with the force trying to find where the slavers were and where the slaves were. After a little while his eyes snapped open and he moved about 20 paces down the wall drawing his light sabers as he glanced over his shoulder at Mirshen and the Cragmoloid soldiers who stood there as well. He then took a deep breath and ignited his two weapons slashing into the walls suddenly carving out a whole big enough for the Crags to get through. He charged through it quickly taking up a defensive screen between the slaves and slavers giving a shout to Mirshen and the soldiers "LETS MOVE COME ON GET THESE SLAVES OUT OF HERE! Squads form up and begin firing on the Slavers NOW!"
The only flavor in the air more recognizable than Vice’s lit cigar was the smell of the countless tears and beads of sweat that followed slavers and their prey wherever they went. Vice was like a bloodhound hunting an escaped convict, he knew if he could help get these slavers six feet under the ground he would establish himself among the Corsair Brotherhood, he would get himself a crew, and he could make a name for himself rather than float aimlessly among the stars.

It wouldn’t be long now until the wall would be breached and the true fun would start, then and only then would the mercenary be able to show his skills off, so until then he clutched to the half smoked cigar with his yellowed teeth, the lingering flavor the only thing that could keep the gun for hire from breaking the wall himself.

The waiting was the worst part, there was already one eager hand teasing the hilt of his blaster, Vice was ready to blast some slaver heads off, but he knew he couldn’t fudge this mission by getting caught over his own feet and blowing their cover too soon. Seconds seemed like hours, but he waited just like the slaves across the very wall they were about to blow open, he waited for salvation. Soon the battle would start, so his free hand went to put out the cigar against the hallway walls, compared to what he was about to do them a little ash on the walls would seem far less rude.

At Aedan’s sign and the forced entry, Vice took his weapon from the sheath, ready to unleash hell upon those slavers unfortunate enough to get within his blaster range. “Let’s show 'em bastards what us Corsairs are all 'bout.” The quick mercenary hopped out into the arena, chaos already spewing over the crowd like bile.

@[member="Aedan Miles"] @[member="Mirshen"] @[member="Jar'varkh"]
Mirshen looked around at everything happening and the new guy... Hey who invited the new guy. He was still on hazing duty and supposed to be getting the stuff cleaned around the, from the wookiee and, ah never mind. The handguns came out and Mirshen fired into one of the slavers as he moved forward. "And a one and a two, and a three, four, five heads go down to the floor. Oh I feel it... I feel a song and a tune. Lets rock this joint and shake rattle and roll them all to electric avenue."
Jar'varkh had to give a toothy smile at the explosion to his flank. Of course competent combatants wouldn't come through the front where the enemy was defended, it was in the arts of combat to strike where the enemy's lines were opened and left undefended. Of course, such openings and opportunities were avenues of plots that tacticians could transpire, but these hostage-holders lacked more than just a few brain cells. They lacked moral, they lacked virtues, they lacked training, and they lacked freedom from greed. Jar'varkh understood their need of money, every being required such items to survive, yet he made do with what he had. The Noghri glanced down at himself, cursing his fortune to only wield a set of rags and the breeze flowing in from the new doorway their guests had so kindly installed. Apparently rocket launchers were the go-to tool for making home improvements.

Blaster fire spewed from the opening, large creatures pouring from it along with other unidentifiable beings that looked the appearance of mercenaries or bounty hunters. Good, distractions are always okay in my book. The Death Commando's eyes scoured the scenery for a break in the lines and easily enough, one presented itself when he noticed the slavers had their backs turned. Handfuls of prisoners had already broke for cover or merely deserted. Jar'varkh would partake in neither venues of escape. Rather, he'd grab a weapon and soak his instruments of war in his enemies' blood. This plan he had in mind worked, the short and stocky assassin breaking from the spurring crowd to tackle a slaver to the floor. His combatant gave a yelp of pain which was quickly silenced, a crack ​sounding out in the midst of battle, thick fingers releasing their grip from a broken neck to reach down and retrieve a blaster rifle.

Now was the time for action, now was the time to kill.
The scent of burnt flesh singed Vice’s nostrils, the air was already clouded with chaos and blood, the corsairs had blown a hole in the slaver’s operation and they were scattering to recover their slaves and potential lost credits. Blaster bolts whizzed through the air on both sides, some of them green, some red, all of them intended for their individual targets, though it was the collateral damage the mercenaries were worried about, the slaves lost in the confusion would be greatly missed.

“Tell me how that bolt tasted, scumsucker!” He had dropped at least two of the slavers by now, you could tell by the huge grin on his face, there wasn’t much worth killing in the galaxy to Vice, he would do what he had to do to make money, but the only kills he ever considered truly justified were slavers and other likeminded people of ill repute. The mercenary quickly ducked behind a larger piece of rubble from the explosion and reloaded his gun.

The soldier couldn’t help but look back at the destruction and take it in for a second before he opened fire again; something about the battlefield was like a painting in motion, pure adrenaline and raw emotion. He scanned the horizion, he watched as the slavers got shot down in their confusion, watched as the slaves scattered and attempted to flee, he even watched some of them fight back. In those couple seconds he took to really admire the work the pirates had done here was when he noticed the true star of the canvas, the leaden skinned slave with the spirit of all the others combined, that mixed with some obvious military training.

Vice realized that whoever it was ripping those slavers a new one from inside needed to be protected at all costs, so after a quick breath Vice sprung back up and fired off some shots at the slavers near the slave warrior, hoping to secure his exit for his brave heroics.

@[member="Mirshen"] @[member="Vice"] @[member="Jar'varkh"]

Aedan Miles was standing near the hole getting the prisoners out and into the shuttles that were ferrying them into the ships in space. Meanwhile he was also shouting commands to his soldiers. Finally the last slave was out and headed towards shuttles Aedan turned and grinned pointing forward. "CORSAIRS SHOW NO QUARTER!" With that cry Aedan sprang forward moving at a speed that was only attainable through use of the force. As he charged forward he caught sight of Vice and Mirshen. Vice was doing well for a new member to the group Aedan would just have to see how good he was at lead. But for now the young Corsair captain noticed a being in the midst of the Slavers and he leaped forward suddenly seeming to appear in the midst of the slavers as well his silver lightsabers glowing as he spun around and slashed left and right quickly. "Squads 2 through 4 move forward and clear out the rest of this area. Squads 1, 5 and 6 stay here." Aedan was constantly giving orders as he fought. Over time he was collecting a few singe marks and obvious places where a slaver had gotten lucky. But he was still fighting he also noticed that his troopers weren't doing that bad it was good that their first engagement was against people who were used to their opponents just laying down and giving up or surrendering.
An unfamiliar handle rested in his hand, a foreign stock in his shoulder, yet it was all the same age-old sensation that had been bred into him over countless years. Though the Noghri's predatory fangs wouldn't have much effect should he smile, his eyes told all. The sun-hued pearls were overflowing with delight as the unrecognized blaster snapped into his hands, the butt of the stock pressing into his shoulder as he took a bid for cover and side-rolled behind a crate. Jar'varkh's head shot left and right to maintain his security before popping up from behind his cover, bringing the rifle to bear on the rears of the slavers. The weapon was bullpup, giving him an advantage when it came to reload speeds and mobility. "[Sight in, breath easy, squeeze the trigger.]" He whispered the words, reclaiming his dignity as a Death Commando, squeezing the trigger with precise movements to result in a smoldering body drop.

He smiled to the effect of a vornskr roaring.

The weapon was easy to handle, quite durable, to say the least. The Death Commando snapped the sights back and forth, firing semi-automatic bolts at the slavers, each and every one of his targets dropping to the ground with smoke billowing from the scorch marks he presented them. A flash caught his attention, from the corner of the battlefield. Blaster bolts flew past his position, many of their previously fired comrades striking into the torsos of the un-motivated defenders. Whoever was coordinating fire, he wanted to thank them afterwards. Besides the assisting support fire, he caught the sight of a pair of silver lightsabers in their midst. "[Sith...they're Sith.]" He frowned at the sabers and began firing at anything holding a weapon. Pirates or slavers it did not matter. Survival was key.
@[member="Jar'varkh"] @[member="Mirshen"] @[member="Vice"]

Aedan Miles was slipping in and out of the main battle listening to the reports from the 3 squads o Crags that had been sent in to see if the place was clear. Meanwhile he caught sight of someone who appeared to be dressed as a slave but was firing at everyone. His eyes dimmed as he saw this and then he called out in a firm voice to the Noghri unsure if he would even hear him. "WHY ARE YOU SHOOTING AT US WE ARE TRYING TO HELP YOU UNLIKE THE BLOODY SITH THAT WAS HERE BEFORE US!" With that said he went back to dancing in and out of the battle fluidly at least. Until one of the slavers got in another lucky shot hitting his leg where the Iron Skin was already thin and piercing through it into the top of Aedan's leg causing him to drop to a knee as he started to slip into a defensive series of maneuvers.
It didn’t take long for losses to form on both sides, allied soldiers and slavers alike shared the same cold ground for eternity, likely to be swept up after all of this and disposed of properly. However Aedan's crag clones were providing a challenge for the slavers. It was an intriguing sight to see the giant tusked creatures charging into battle, going against their naturally peace loving ways to cause much bloodshed, thought that’s what they were cloned for.

Blasting a couple ugly slaver Trandoshans in the kneecaps was fun, but Vice knew the real party was going to take place inside the establishment, it would be like a hunting ground and he would be the prey…something to help pass the time. Though it was not possible for him to just run toward the entrance, he would have to sneak there, that or blast his way through.

Moments after, Vice saw Aedan Miles, Vice’s boss, get pegged by the opposing side. “That’s it you slaver trash are goin down.” The next step was what appeared to be a single fluid motion, grabbed a cigar, tossed it in the air, caught it in his mouth and lit it with a snap-hiss of a fiery match. It was time to rock n' roll. Just like his gritty mercenary days.

The first puff of his cigar always tasted the best, the first exhale always the heartiest. So he figured to help celebrate his return to the battlefield he would give a hearty smoke ring toward his target, the oval shape floating, also providing a range of fire. In another moment of battlefield badassery, Vice took up his blaster pistol and aimed it directly between the smoke circle, taking just a second to aim between its quickly evaporating borders. Boom his blaster fired, tagging the slaver punk right in the eye.

With a grin and another puff of his cigar, Vice leapt over his cover, blaster aimed directly at any slaver that got in his way. The Crags were acting like tanks, providing an opportunity to get closer to the door without taking on an entire group.

@[member="Aedan Miles"] @[member="Jar'varkh"] @[member="Mirshen"]
@[member="Vice"] @[member="Aedan Miles"] @[member="Jar'varkh"]

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Mirshen screamed seeing Aedan fall down as he fired off two quick shots into the face of a slaver. Her ran up and kicked one of the slavers seeing around while he spoke pistol whipping the slaver. "No one shoots my side kick but me." Then he looked up and back towards Aedan while vice was fighting with a grin under his mask. Ejecting the clip quickly he loaded a new one moving towards his friend... and man to quote the bard. Bro before ho dawg. Mirshen came near him and dropped down slamming his fist on the wound. "Why... why? Why? We're going to lose the leg I just know it. Why did you have to be so brave little soldier boy?"

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom