Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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A Watery Grave (OS Dominion of Glee Anselm)

Darth Odium

Guest
D
The cold grey form of the medium transport, that was so common...900 years ago, dropped into orbit around the beautiful planet. It had been many years now since he had seen the place of his birth. It had not been since he killed his parents and sealed his fate. His cold black eyes flecked now with floating crimson surveyed the world as he made for the swamps where his parents had left him for dead at birth.

His mind slowly picked at the memories that this place held and the Sith that had found him swaddled in rags. He would now begin new expiraments here and his people would never be the same.
 
(5/20)



For his own sake, Cedric didn't cringe. He just stared at the body, lips pressing into a thin line as the lizard defiled the dead. The boy was not the spiritual sort, but touching corpses never went well back on Crystalsong. They tended to come back as spirits and cause havoc. Of course, he'd never actually seen one, but he had heard many stories of such cases.

"The Sith didn't kill him, did they?" He finally asked, eyeing the still-warm corpse. "From what I saw outside...well, it would be messier. This was regular people."

The boy bit down on his lower lip.

"People are insane." He managed, turning away from the body, and toward the hanger itself. "Find a ship you can steal. I'll...keep watch."

True to his word, Cedric posted himself up to view as many entrances as he might without spinning about. The Vulcan was exchanged for his mother's rifle. There was a bit of range here, and he felt better about scaring off any attackers before they came close.

He didn't actually intend to harm anyone. A slug exploding near their feet would do just fine.



[member="Jimmy Nkemdilim"]
 
Location: Underwater caves
Objective: Enslave fishes
Allies: [member="Sitara Qin"]
Enemies: [member="Coren Starchaser"] (come at me, Han Brolo)
4/20

With some sharp slices of his saber and a few pained screams, the rogue soldiers were swiftly dealt with. Sage snapped off his weapon and returned it to his belt clip, then joined Sitara and the little Nautolan child. He couldn't tell if the alien was a boy or a girl, but really did it matter? Pretty soon the kid would be a slave auctioneer's problem. He gave her a sly wink and stood back a few paces from the both of them so that he didn't spook the little creature. Sitara had obviously persuaded the child to confide in her and he didn't want to rupture that trust. He raised a hopeful eyebrow when the little alien agreed to show them where his father was. Perhaps there would be more where he came from and the Sith could round them all up.

"Yes, little girl, er, fellow. Why don't you show the nice lady and me where your father is?" he asked, his hand reaching out to ruffle the kids...tentacles.

The Sith Knight once detested slavery. As a former slave himself, it had been the one gun he stuck to since he had joined the One Sith. The more ingrained Sage became in Sith culture, however, the deeper the cruelty of the Sith had begun to sink into him, like osmosis through the membranes of his morality. Without even realizing it, the man he used to be had begun to wash away, just like dead Nautolan on the shore.
 
Objective: Save Refugees, Kill Squid Boy, Protect Spark Finn, Let Coren’s Angels be BA.
Location: Caves? Hunting [member="Sage Bane"]-y pants
Allies: The Wild Force, Coren’s Angels, and his dashing good looks.
Enemies: Broba Fett, [member="Sage Bane"], probably [member="Sitara Qin"] while he’s at it.
6/20, yo

Coren knew he went hunting. What his goal was, was to try to bring the Sith to him and let his team do the ‘heavy lifting.’ What? Was that sexist? Nah, he didn’t think so. Coren wanted to get a little fight in, and pull aggression and attention away from the Underground’s mission here. Save some refugees, get whoever they could out.

And he could go after the Sith. It was kind of a sick pastime. Sure, he’d probably work with a Jedi to kick at the Sith, but y’know what? He’d work with the right Sith to kick at the Jedi. Both groups were fanatics and needed to be eliminated so the galaxy could do its own thing and stop living in a state of war.

But here he was, making his way through the caves. He was reaching out with the Force, trying to get a trail, and following instinct. Too bad he couldn’t Instagram this for Spark…

#DatSithCray

Right? That’s what the urban youths were doing.
 
[3/20]
Objective 3
Location: About to be on that road again
Allies: [member="Melori Raaf"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"]

Cameron's attention to the woman dissipated the moment the name left her lips; the fulfillment of his request. Swiftly, he withdrew a datapad and did a simple search cross-referencing first name through the registered database of Acolytes. Melori was anything but a common name.

Meloris apprenticed to Venefica even less so. Once the search result returned, the Sith Lord slipped the datapad back into his pocket. If the woman's registered last name has piqued Cameron's interest at all, he didn't show it. A name was merely a matter of reference to him. He preferred to judge individuals on the merits, or lack thereof, of their actions.

By the time Melori had finished speaking, the large Sith Lord lifted his eyes to the woman before motioning casually with his left arm. "Do not let me deter you from your path. Were there a more pressing matter, I would have certainly started my greeting with that information."
 
4/20



Location: Legion of Doom, 2 km below the sea, where death is better down where it's wetter, take it from me.....


Tags: None of you seem near yet, but if y'all are feeling around with the force, things might ping on your radar....




Olom grinned and gestured to the droids to hand each of the Nautolans some small bottles of red...stuff. "Nutrient water. Stuff tastes awful, but even a small sip will fill you up. Provisions might be a bit scant. I need to finish initializing the system. Stay here, I'll be back shortly." The refugees nodded in compliance, drinking some of the "nutrient water" as he ascended the stars to a small catwalk. He focused his energies calmly, and most importantly, slowly. The neurotoxin he had put into their drinks would amplify the adrenal stimulation in their bodies, inciting a heavy neural spark towards anger and increased reaction time. There was also just a small drop of the Leviathan's boiled scales in each bottle. It's hatred and hunger, feeding into the desperation and toil of these refugees.




He focused again, letting the telepathic message echo, amplified slightly by the swarm of heady emotions around him--fear, anger, the panic and desperation of refugees fleeing form an oncoming invasion.




Find me. I'm here. Find me.




He walked over and groaned. A small bowl, a few vials. He began pouring some rotten flesh into the bowl, pouring fresh blood over it. And synthetic blood--his own, synthesized through bacta tank genesis and glared at the bowl. Augury, they called it, seeing visions in organs. Primitive witchcraft, his parents had chided him. They were right, it was primitive. But so were slaves. So was war. So was space travel. Life was an exercise in binding the primitive to reason.



The force was Primitive, but Olom was not. The resonance field was amplifying the dark energies. His offering was being unwittingly prepared via some of the cleverer pharmacology in the galaxy. He wondered if some one else would show up to add to the bloodshed, or if he'd have to do it himself. He hoped for the former, as killing his enemies was usually a waste of effort, and frankly, more blood would increase the energy field. As would more emotion.



Olom focused a weak push of telekinetic energy into the bowl, stirring it's contents and licking his teeth. A clawed foot tapped on the rune-etched floor of this strange chamber. Soon the hunger summoned would be satiated. But, how high a price would it be? Would he survive this maddening ascendance? He genuinely wasn't sure. He didn't know how much his hunger...his madness.....would be able to strengthen him.



That was the beauty of it, though. It wasn't his strength that mattered. It was the war's.




Find me, He whispered to the force, to any who would listen. I'm here.
 
1/20​
Location: En route to suspected refugee activity.
Objectives: Confirm reports, take necessary action.
Allies: The Sith


The homeward of the Nautolans. A vile amphibious species that had the potential to be as dangerous as they were strong swimmers. Yet as quick and lethal as the squid-folk could be, they were naught compared to the unquestionable might of the Imperial military. Scans of the surface had discovered movements to the south of her position, indicating a cluster of lifeforms moving towards a specific location. Initial reports suggested it was a landmass no more than half a kilometre in diameter with what could be a lake in the center of it - a vast sapphire jewel within a crown of deep green. There was no doubt in her mind that this small fleck of land concealed one of the famed underground cave systems - after all, why would so many lifeforms flee there, if not for safety?


She raised her hand and pressed against her commslink to activate it, barking a short and to the point order to the pilot of the dropship she was currently in. That island was their target. The Nautolans were fast, but even their prodigious swimming couldn't outpace a machine designed to drop soldiers into hot combat zones unscathed. By the time the natives got there, the central lagoon would be nothing more than a death trap. And after the inevitable massacre that would come, it would be a simple game of cat and mouse within the cave networks...

Feel free to come at me! ^^
 
[SIZE=10.5pt]Objective: Get out of dodge – Pick up Big Red on the way.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Location: Some forsaken marsh[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Allies: One Sith, [member="Darth Ferus"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Post 8/20[/SIZE]

As she limped away from the building, soon to be a smouldering pile of coal and ashes. She felt something hard against the small of her back: The blaster she had taken from Jahn’s corpse. She smiled as she checked the safety and spun it around her index finger. The DL-44 Heavy Blaster felt lovely in her hand. Since joining the Sith, she had found Blasters inelegant, lacking in finesse, uncivilized if you will. Yet, she could not argue against its sheer effectiveness. She tucked it in her sash and climbed on to a speeder bike. Luckily, it did not require much activity from her legs, and this time it was a proper speeder. Not a mule for work, but an old army-relic. She touched her hand to her comlink to send Darth Ferus a message.

“OS-A-19 calling Big Red, be ready for a speedy pick-up.”

She was not sure he was listening; in fact, she was quite sure he was not. Even so, the channel was safe and it did not hurt them to leave a message. She imagined it could be quite funny to pick him up if she was in fact not listening. The surprise on his face would be worth whatever reprimands she would receive. She revved the engines of the speeder bike and put on a helmet, covering her face. She believed in two things the helmet provided: Vehicle safety and anonymity. Revving again, she sped off across the marsh, following the tracks of the raiding party.

As she approached the tail end of the Anselmi Warpath, she activated her lightsabre in her right hand. She held it out, away from her speeder not to hurt it. Her scarlet blade seemed a little more alive than usual in the drag of the wind, almost as though a flame flickered over its form. Saiah brought her speeder in a big arch around the main body of the anselmi until she could see the frontlines where she estimated Darth Ferus would be. She had grown so accustomed to his presence that she could feel him. While he was hiding his form, he was not hiding his presence. Where the entrance was the thinnest. She could see him at the head, albeit in disguise. He appeared to be giving some speech to egg up the Anselmi, as if they were not frothing already.

She sheared through those who stood in her way, by her sabre or by the sheer weight and force of her vehicle. She slowed a little and deactivated her sabre as she came close to the disguised Sith Lord and while passing right behind him, attempted to snatch him up mid-sentence in front of all his subjects. Saiah had to work immensely not to laugh loudly and probably crash. Instead, she speeded up and shot off while helping Ferus onto the back of her speeder bike.

She grinned and directed the speeder towards the safe house they had set up for this circumstance. Far enough, and hidden enough to be out of the way for both Anselmi Warpaths and Nautolan retaliations unless they wished to be part of them.
 

Darth Timoris

To err is human, to forgive divine. And I'm no god
[Post = 8/20]
Objective: Be ready for the next installment
Location: En route to the starport
Allies: [member="Cameron Centurion"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"]

She saw the Sith Lord pull out a datapad. He was no doubt checking the records. Melori Rae, sister and former apprentice to Taeli Rae, Darth Arcanix – now apprentice and underling to Darth Venefica.

If the rumour of her sister’s defection to the Jedi was confirmed, that could well be there too. Did she care in truth? No. Her new Master knew the truth – the whole truth, and had advised her to trust no-one, which she was more than content to do.

She nodded her assent at his dismissing of her and Jaron and started walking to the starport. “I suspect we’ll have some work to do when we get there.” And thoughts of siblings and deception were already behind her. She had work to do and she dare not fail – less it reflected on her Master.
 
[6/20]
Objective #1.5 Getting the heck out of the pool and dry off.
Location: Pieralos, Glee Anselm's Underwater Capital.
Allies: [member="Tanek Santii"]


Once the water passed over him Vengeance started swimming. If not for the fact he trained with weighted clothes all the time being a floating underwater carpet would be physically exhausting for the Sith. What pissed him off more though was the idea that Tanek and triggered the bombs and as a result won their little game. It only took him a minute or two to find a whole big enough to squeeze through before arriving at the subs that had brought them down to the underwater capital city. Vengeance was thankful it was still intact not sure if he would have been able to hold his breath long enough to make the surface.

Climbing inside of it he looked around making sure his fellow sith had a way out before starting it up and heading to the surface. His only thought at that point was getting rid of the smell of wet corpses. He didn't mind the smell of death but not everyone enjoyed it so her tried not to be drowned in it's odor all the time.
 
[8/20 Dom 15/10UC]

"Most likely."

It could have been Sith troops of course, they had regularly ground pounders to do the jobs that didn't interest their special snowflake lightning-tossers after all, but the kid was probably right. Chances were this had been people who wanted their ships or somebody elses ship or to loot. It would be nice to think they'd just been trying to escape, to live, but the galaxy was full of terrible people, this was just the way it was. Jimmy didn't much bother trying to pretend otherwise. Hell, some days he was the terrible person.

"Sure thing kid, you do that."

Not that he much wanted to go through an underground parking hangar on his own that probably had no power, but hey. Such was life.

"Mind my stuff. Especially the jacket."

He commented, stripping. Lizard physiology meant this wasn't particularly shocking or inappropriate. Perks of the species. Trandoshans could beat him in an arm wrestling fight and heal quicker, but Aar'aa had their own skills. His pebbly skin was already starting to go from it's usual bright green to the colours of his surroundings as he hit the button for the elevator and crept in.

This was the worst part, he reflected as it descended. When those doors opened he would be largely exposed. If there was nothing there he'd likely be fine. If there was..

"Someone, somewhere has to owe me, just a little."

He muttered, sending unspecified prayers to anyone who might be listening. With an entirely inappropriately cheerful ding, the elevator doors slid open into darkness, let sporadically by failing emergency lights. With the rapid stop start motion of his progenitors. The hangar was big, and tiered. Somewhere in the depths he could hear movement. He was careful to keep the scrabble of his own feet and claws to a minimum.

There were still ships, and he appraised them as he went. He had no interest in being shot out of the sky twice in one day. Most of these didn't even have hyperdrives, just little pleasure cruisers really. He'd take one if he had to, but he'd prefer to put some space between himself and this world.

"Ahhh, there you are, you beauty."

He breathed. Compared to many of the expansive crafts in the hangar, she was not in fact beautiful, looking to be more hauler than pleasure craft, but those were shield generators, there was a bump that indicated a hyperdrive, here enough firepower to get out of this hangar even with the doors stuck closed from the power outage. Yes, this would do just fine.

Jimmy did what he did best, 'Jimmy-ing' the ship open without damaging it. A quick exploration to make sure it was fueled up and as deserted as it seemed. In the cargo hold he paused, looking at the loaded bay.

"I wonder..."

Prying open a crate he looked inside and caught his breath, before laughing.

"Someone owed me all right, oh this was worth it."

Even a third, he'd split it, he was honest, Ultrachrome always commanded a high price after all, and with his connections he knew an tiger striped criminal in the market for some of it, and word was she always paid and believed in investments. An important consideration. Some of that kind would just kill you and take the cargo. Jimmy liked to not only get paid, but to have the chance to enjoy his pay.

With a sharp toothed grin he powered the ship up. It was tight flying in the hangar, but the lizard wasn't all boast, he was one of the best. In moments the ships guns had let the sunlight into the hangar and the ship out. He cpuld have just left but.. He did have a little tinge of a conscience. Besides, the kid had his jacket.

He lowered the ship near the little guard hut and the man and boy. Toggling on the outside intercom and lowering the ramp.

"Last call to get off this charming little vacation hotspot, let's go folks, shake a leg! And bring my jacket!"

Once they were board, he punched it, putting the unlovely ship through it's paces, masterfully avoiding anyone else in the sky and jumping into hyperspace at the soonest opportunity.

"Well, that was an adventure, and lads, we picked the right ship! Wait till you see the cargo we've jacked. Best unintentional smuggling I've ever done!"

[member="Cedric Grayson"] [member="Lancem Cuiléin"] [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Captain Larraq"]
 
[4/20]
Objective: To the spaceport!
Location: Enroute to said port for spacecraft
Allies: [member="Melori Raaf"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"]

Cameron had little to say to either Acolyte as the pleasantries subsided and they made their way to the next objective location. Allowing his silver-green gaze to turn briefly skyward, a thin smile adorned the Sith Lord's dark features. He had a sense of...something familiar. Further more, it was not terribly far away. In due time, Cameron's interest may drive towards narrowing in on the sensation. For now, however, he would silently evaluate the usefulness of the two Acolytes before him.

((OOC: Apologies for the brevity and delay!))
 
Location: Waiting for another to stumble into my not exactly a trap
Objective: Blood for the blood rites

Those possibly noticing the evil stuff happening: [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Darth Odium"]

(5/20, and counting)

Olom simply sat in his chamber and observed the mutations thourgh the force. The "nutrient water" was fast-acting, as a portion of the leviathan's essence entered into each of the refugees that had imbibed. Small hints of paranoia and violent urges began creeping at their thoughts. However, even with a filled vial, it would be hard to push them to violence. He would need to either provoke them himself, or wait for some other fools to stumble upon the fearful group of twenty. Another group of refugees came. Again Olom opened the door, provided them some munitions and rations. "Drink, we've got plenty..." He said, lying matter-of-factly. He'd change the tune and inform them how few the provisions were soon enough.





He quickly returned to his chamber, hoping to see the groups interact. No scuffling, but small barbed quips about the "bastards" and "monsters" out there. Hate begat hate in a mob easily--why so few Sith ever considered drawing strength from the many, he never understood. The truth is that a Sith had more than simple power in the self. There was power in the nation, power the unruly and heated emotions in large numbers. With the right words, and entire planet could be subjugated. With the right application of hatred, you could cause a planet to revolt in your name. If you were willing to lie, to play at weakness and martyrdom, it was easy enough to become a God, not in the force, but in the eyes of those around you. And perceived power was just as deadly as false power. It just took more intelligence to use properly.




Olom looked at the bowl again. The hunk of preserved flesh had nearly completely dissolved. The blood, the anguish. He focused on the bowl, electrocuting it with a small burst of sith lightning. He meditated upon it. What he thought it would taste like, it's texture, it's ability to sate his hunger after fasting for days. His hunger seemed eternal. He was so weak. He wondered at what this break of his fast would do. The energy of the darkside was welling up within him, and within the bowl. It also welled up within the mechanisms below him, hungering for a blood sacrifice. It would have it's blood. It's lust. Quadrasteel that hungered for flesh. Bones that begged to be soaked in blood.




Olom frowned. He coudl used a death stick right now, but he couldn't afford to deaden himself in any way. For a weak Sith like himself, this ritual would require immense power. Hell, he could have liekly done it with far fewer sacrfices if he were a master or alchemical or sorcerous techniques. But instead, he had to be truly inefficient.




He focused the words again, letting them echo.Dull black eyes glowed blood red. The words bounced in his mind, and through the caves, directed at everything and nothing, a faint trail for those sensitive enough to seek it out.

Find me. I'm here. FIND. ME!


His frontal lobes bulged slighty at the concentration, silencing hundreds of thoughts in his chaotic, yet brilliant mind to re-focus the entirety of his will on projecting his energy to the planet--giving it a flickering omen of what was to come.





FIND ME, AND KNOW MY WORK




He had prepared so well. It was time to truly make this world know. It was time to demonstrate his power. It was time.... He sat down weakly. He was getting a head of himself. He could not sate his hunger yet. The time was not right. First, blood, then feasting. He had to control the primal urges he stoked within himself. He had to control his strength as a Sith yet. He meditated.


"I am strong, within the force. Peace is a lie, but control is not," he chanted solemnly.


"I will control. I will abide. My work will achieve fruition."


In truth, he doubted. Perhaps he wasn't strong enough. Perhaps it was impossible to use simple brutality and audacity to strengthen a force ritual, perhaps re-writing stolen texts was a work for Kaine and his sorcerous ilk.


Still, it mattered not. He would see this through, to the end.
 

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