Dominion A Wretched Hive - NIO Dominion of Phaeda

[Avernus]

// YE //​

// OPERATION: BLACK DICE //
// INTIMIDATE LOCALS, ESTABLISH AvCORP™ OWNED MAFIA, GARNISH NIO SUPPORT THROUGH FORCE //
// Eh //
// DRIP //
// Kolson Vrask OPEN //​

Avernus turned slowly to face the Trandoshan, the first one of the group to openly object. A fleeting moment later, Avernus' smirk slowly began to fade as he could feel the growing confidence of those surrounding him. It only took one of them standing up to him for the rest to begin to follow suit. That's how it usually went when someone took a stand though, the New-Imperials were testament to that. The Duros Crimelord stopped spinning and swinging around, coming to a stop and floating in front of Avernus, half-conscious from the spinning and lack of air. Yeezus could feel the inevitability growing as one by one, the psyches of the criminals replaced their fear and reluctance with anger and defiance.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Avernus's smirk returned when the dark side granted him a brief and vague premonition. He suddenly whipped backward into a limbo-lean just in time for the sound of an explosion to fill the room. Plating from the door flew into the back of the Trandoshan, and right over the Pureblood, narrowly missing him. When he returned upright, he flicked his hand upwards and slammed the Duros flat, back-first against the ceiling, and held him there. Blaster bolts quickly began to fly and the criminals began to scatter and fire in a large commotion. Avernus' amethyst plasmatic instrument of thermal demise began to dance around the room. Sundering blasters, limbs, heads, and anything else that stood in its path. The tension had finally climaxed into total and utter chaos.

AvCORP™ PAGE CLAIM

​

 

[Agrippa]

THE LILY
​

Sometimes you didn't have to kill people.

Sometimes you caroused. Despite Krayt's objection. The man was a sturdy bastion of Imperial ideals, he fitted the stereotype, too; always clean shaved, short buzzcut, a square face and a jaw, and eyes the color of the Imperator himself. Krayt was one of the few survivors of the old guard of Gladius Company - the zealous, ex-paramils mad dogs which actually formed the core of the Company back then before the decimation at Hairdan. They gave me command of the little of what remained of us and told me to recruit and so I did. Surprisingly easy, too, if you are recruiting from a war torn city. It's where I got most of the fresh blood. Never sold 'em on the idea, that's complicated, especially when the idea was what took everything little you still had. Sold 'em on cash, it's what they had none of and needed. Just mentioned 'em the names of Tambor, Gunray and Avernus - eyes lit gold.

We left Krayt behind, along with the bulk of the Company. After all, we were out to carouse, make pals, get info and smash a partisan. We weren't out for a siege.

The Lily, the hive of scum and villainy on Phaeda, was a rather large cantina that both looked luxurious and a watering hole at the same time. Don't ask me how. Galaxy's full of contradictions.

Funnily enough, we fit right in.

I just hoped ISB wasn't around to look. I'd be having a long day of explaining, otherwise.

 

[Hiram Voss]

Objective III: Operational Overwatch
Location: INV Rapier, Phaderan Orbit.

"Are you seriously doing this Commander?" Boars inquired with an expression that could only be described as livid, "Do you seriously question the capacity of the Sovereign Imperator?" Hadrian Boars' youthful features turned to a mocking smile of his superior, "What he has achieved in a short matter eclipses the career of a small and little man like yourself." Boars spat a chuckle escaped his lip, "We will conquer this system, and a thousand more!" Boars snapped, turning his back to the elder officer, "And you will be forgotten."

Hiram's eyes darted across the command deck assessing the reactions of the Rapier's crew. Those who were watching quickly returned to their posts as they saw the cold gaze pass across them. "You're right." Voss conceded. He could tell that hit something as Boars flinched, "You're right lieutenant, I'm an over the hill officer whose best days are behind him." Voss licked his cracked lips and leaned back, readjusting his seat, "But fact of the matter is, is just because I'm a bottom of the barrel officer, doesn't mean I can't call bantha poodoo when I see it."

Hiram stood and walked toward the young lieutenant, "You mistake lieutenant my criticism for lack of faith." The veteran officer informed him, boots clicking against the durasteel floor, "I could have retired after the First Order. Quit this sort of job, taken one up navigating freight." He took a deep breath, "But, I wasn't about to miss an opportunity for one last chance at glory." He allowed the briefest of smiles to purse his lips. Boars at least didn't' notice, back still turned to him. "I've seen a lotta men like Imperator Tavlar. But they've had time to learn. Tavlar, well he's picked a fight with the nastiest buncha gundarks assembled since well... ever." The corvette commander stood next to Boars. He was eclipsed in size by the six foot six mountain of a man, "Which means his window is shorter than most." Voss then clicked his tongue and swayed a little, back and forth, "And I think losing the hyperdrive on what should be your flagship? Not the best move." He paused and took a step in front of the lieutenant and wagged a finger beneath his nose, "In fact, leading a damn annexation with it?"

"Not the smartest play at all."

 

[VK-462]

// VK-462 MSTRSGT WARLOCK //
// OPERATION: BLACK DICE //
// GRAND CHINESTI CASINO //
// Take My Bones Away //
// Lunafreya Solidor | ! O P E N ! //

Who'd have known there'd be a sports bar in this casino? Yieda leaned on the bar with her elbows, face resting on her right fist. She would have much preferred to be going after the militia with Joker, Scar, and Nines, but IMPCOM had seen fit to give her an escort assignment. Some rich New-Imperial bureaucrat or whatever apparently needed protection. 'Sounds like a job for Nova Corps!' was the thought that reverberated sarcastically through her mind.

At least she'd get to watch the game while waiting. She'd been starting at the holomonitor and watching the Limmie game for about forty-five standard minutes now. Not only was it a good outlet to stave off the mind's discontent with her current assignment, but she also had nine-hundred AvCoin© riding on Team Coruscant. Six minutes left in the final quarter, and they were still tied. Commander Scar would probably kill her if she lost two weeks' commission on a Limmie game and had to ask for another advance.

She heard static and a muffled voice come from the comms of her helmet which she had removed previously and sat on the bar beside her. She assumed it must have been her queue that 'VIP' was here. She stood up straight and took her last shot of Kri'gee, face twisting up along with the expected rough exhale afterward. She tucked her helmet under her arm and left the bar for the entrance.

She made her way through the crowds and rows of gambling tables and machines. The flashing lights and loud music were only a little disorienting, especially when you weren't totally used to it. She finally passed the last row of slot machines and found herself in the foyer. Spotting the Noble-burea-aristocrat or what-have-you she approached with a quickened pace. Within a few meters, she slipped her helmet back over her head and gave a half-asked salute when closing the distance.

<< Master Sergeant Warlock reporting. >> The Nova Corps helmet deepened and distorted her voice beyond usual recognition.

 

[Agrippa]

THE LILY
​

I am a greedy bastard, I admit. No wonder that my first instinct was to head straight up to the playing tables. Shadowing me was, of course, Bingo - our Company's closest thing to a quartermaster. Logistics and inventory management, all that crap. Ironically, he was also a wasteful gambling man.

"Ready to lose the little you got, Lieutenant?" most of the Company still called me that, even if I had been field promoted to Captain after the Battle of Hairdan. Hell, I welcomed it. There's no shoes more impossible to fill than Captain Belisarius'. He probably cursed me from the afterlife for bringing in avaricious scum in our ranks but I also doubted that - he was a pragmatic man, first and foremost. He'd see the benefit, even if I sometimes didn't.

"Ready to cheat again, Bingo?"

"Counting. Quick maths. How many times do I gotta correct ya?" Bingo snickered like a hyena and sat down on a table with two more spots empty. The patrons gave us a rough glare but I am sure that was their usual glare. Gotta act tough, be tough when you're street livin'. Hierarchy of power, or whatever they called it.

I counted cards, alright, but never as good as Bingo. Never. The bastard was drowning in piles of fortune before I kicked him under the table to remind him what we actually came here. Robbin' the scum wasn't really a tool to improve diplomatic relations. Bingo grumbled, groaned and sighed all at the same time but eventually gave in. He started teaching them sabacc lessons, one old ass Rodian got rowdy but Bingo's audience were so fiercely succumbed to the quartermaster's lectures they nearly bashed his head to shut up.

Alright, this front's settled, let's check up on the others.

Hooks, a medic, or so he claimed, was conning a few ladies on the bar into buying him drinks. A natural charmer, that one, or a natural con artist, PC be damned. The two ladies intrigued in our Hooks did not look like prosts, so at least it did seem he'd picked his target well. So if they weren't prosts, what kind of lady would be enjoying herself in this hive of shit? I squinted hard and looked them up from head to toe. I must've been staring for a few minutes because someone shook my arm and told me they were 'not for sale'.

"Mistryl Shadow Guards, them two, pal." I looked down at what shook my arm and explained to me what I had been staring at. A Bothan dwarf. Don't ask me, I ain't no alien expert. "Personal escort of Lady Essia, The Lily's owner."

My eyes widened, then, "You tellin' me this shithole's owned by a woman?"

"Did you just assume their gender?"

I blinked, squinted and did not understand, "What?"

The Bothan dwarf sighed disappointed. "Yes, it's owned by a woman." Rural Ord Mantell, things were different.

I gave it more thought, scrubbing my chin, as the Bothan left me to my inquisitive staring. Then I concluded that if Lady Essia was able to afford the heart of scum and villainy on Phaeda AND two Mistryl Shadow Guards as retinue then she'd be the person I ought to talk about.

Carousing for the sake of carousing was all good but I seemed like the only one out of the Company doing nothing in furthering our New Imperial goals on the planet.

Time to find me Lady Essia.

 

[Vaulkhar]

// Lord Executor //
// Location // Chinesti //
// Objective // Black Dice // Answers //
// Focus // Spencer Varanin //

---

---

It wasn't common for the Wound to feel something beyond the typical hatred or rage that burned within him. The horrors of Kintan created him, the swift and widespread death of millions tore a fissure through the tremendous cosmic sea. Vaulkhar's life, since his rebirth saw him looking through a cracked lens, his mind, though functioning, not quite whole due to the millions who helped create him, their own hunger latched onto his existence. Yet, somehow, Vaulkhar felt a tinge of guilt settle upon his heart. With Spencer and Errant, the Executor had an opportunity for something much simpler than open warfare and unparalleled death. A part of the creature longed for it. A peaceful life on some forgotten planet, a homestead of his own, and a clear-cut separation from his past. Though spite dominated his being, Vaulkhar longed for happier times.

"It has nothing to do with being enough for either of us, Spencer. You know that" Vaulkhar spoke up after she recounted events, his head gently shaking from side to side. "What I had with the both of you provided many memories I hold dear. I wanted to remain beside you and leave behind the war-torn galaxy, but it wasn't feasible. A great evil resides within our universe, only further strengthened by the Empire at his feet and the thousands of Sith willing to follow his every order. It is my duty to all those I've wronged to stand in defiance to this monster, even if it sees my life destroyed a third time," he watched a plate of snickerdoodles set down before the woman, a steaming kettle and two glasses beside the sweets. "If it was just Kaine, it wouldn't be a problem. He is old and dying, no matter how hard he tries to maintain the illusion of immortality. The dark side is not a loving mistress, it eats at his being and continues to tear away at what remains of his soul. Unfortunately, it isn't just Kaine. Its an established cult of personality devoted to what he says and does. While I'm confident we could protect Errant from Kaine or a small number of his following, an entire empire is too much for either of us."

The Lord Executor reached out, his armored fingers sliding in place around the kettle's handle before lifting it to pour the pair a glass. He set the pot down and lifted his cup, shifting it from the center of the table to in front of him.

"Do not hold yourself accountable for what you cannot control, Spencer. It is the trap every master of the force seems to spring," Vaulkhar lifted the glass, carefully blowing on the bitter drink before taking a sip. "I left to kill a man who'd only bring pain to our boy. I failed, but that was no surprise. And as much as I hate what has become of me, things will be different because of it. There are more of us than before, and the power within me is undeniable. With time, Carnifex will be destroyed, and the galaxy freed from his terrible shadow. And then," he met the woman's gaze, eventually shying away to the unmoving liquid surface of his drink. "There will be a measure of safety returned. Not permanent, but even something fleeting is better than what's in place now," he shifted his attention back to the holodevice, crimson rage melting away, the burning anger replaced by a sense of simmering pain.

"For all you've done, Spencer, I thank you. You could've abandoned him, but you didn't. And for that, I will not abandon him again," Vaulkhar reached out, dragging the device from the table before slipping it somewhere within his robe. "If this is the life he chooses to live, I will ensure nothing happens to him. With you as his angel, guiding him through the dangers of the day to day, I will stand at his back, the unseen devil. From behind Errant, I will see all that threatens our son, and I will destroy such threats indiscriminately," he slowly stood, eyeing the former queen with a mix of emotions he forgot the names of. "It is the least I can do for him," he paused, breaking eye contact with her. "And for you, Spencer. When this is all over, he'll return to you safely, just as he left."

 

[Agrippa]

THE LILY
​

I didn't wander aimlessly much longer. A couple of nasty looking brutes, from human to sluissi, popped one each at every direction I took. Yeah, their glares were clear - leading me somewhere particular. Left, straight towards the toilets, door at the end and they were right on top of me. No one said anything, I didn't bother, either; I was being summoned by Lady Essia.

The chamber they brought me to was your typical private V.I.P area most cantinas had. This was no different; maybe a bit too colorful for my taste. I heard movement in the private booths on the side of the room but the lights were throwing thick shadows down there. Right at the center of the chamber was situated what looked like a golden throne, a Chagrian majordomo on one side, a slave on the other and atop sitting on the throne itself was none other than Lady Essia.

The Lady was a man. Dressed as a woman.

It caught me by surprise solely for the reason that ever since that dwarf Bothan mentioned her to me, I tangled myself in a web of fantasizing and romanticizing the picture of Lady Essia, more out of boredom than anything else. I imagined her to be the classical femme fatale - seductive and ruthless, and I was ready to jump into that deadly trap without thinking twice.

However, Lady Essia did not look a drop seductive, at least not to me. Ruthless? Hell yeah. Looked the part, played the part. The crime lord had the arms of a wookie and the size of a chevin. Dressed in reddish-purple women garments, wearing heavy make up and an indigo afro twice as his big head, Lady Essia was a sight to behold. The galaxy had everything. I've never been more glad I left Mantell behind.

"Imperial." he acknowledged my presence with a grin wider than his face. I wasn't getting killed, that's for sure.

"Lady Essia." I slightly smirked. Wasn't sure where I got the confidence. Maybe because the fleet would evaporate this shit hole if an Imperial's live was lost or so I reassured myself. That would be what killed me someday.

"Unlike your...stormies in arms you don't seem to be enjoying the Lily." the grin stayed. We never hid we were imperial but Essia already knew we were stormtroopers originally. Nasty bastard. Was someone being a loud mouth? Was someone leaking from the inside? Gotta figure that out later. "Don't overthink it, Imperial, one of your bucketheads was pleasantly close to two of my escorts." Hooks, the fucker. Who else? "Surprisingly close, too, considering their upbringing."

I stayed silent, kept the slight smirk but it was fading.

"Let's get to the point, Imperial. If you are sniffing here, Phaeda's inevitable to fold under you. A matter of time." the grin had disappeared, replaced by a scowl. Essia cleared his throat and added, "and that's why I want to strike a deal."

 

[Tyrell Paxxus]

// GRAND VIZIER //
// OBJETIVE REDACTED //
// DEPTHS OF A PHAEDAN DRUG DEN //
// BETTER OFF DEAD //
// OPEN-ISH (PM ME) //

An elite group of ISB agents had quietly infiltrated the seedy den of some Phaedan death stick manufacturers. Under the express orders of the Grand Vizier, they swept through the hideout with blasters set to stun, clearing all threats, covertly taking control of the entire complex. This operation was TOP SECRET, any word that was spoken about it after the conclusion would be considered treason. With all guards incapacitated or indisposed, the distinguished gang of death stick peddlers were now at the mercy of the ISB.

Clad in a tall-collared trenchcoat and a matching hat, Tyrell entered the main office of the gang leader. Several armed ISB agents followed behind him, now outnumbering the number of guards in the building. As he came before the desk of the Toydarian leader, he held up a death stick between his thumb and index finger, displaying it clearly for him. It was this exact stick that had sprung the search for the den and lead them here.

"This is one of yours, correct?" Tyrell asked calmly.

"Ehhh I dunno nothin'!" The Toydarian didn't hesitate even a little. He immediately opted for denial, as would be expected of a cornered criminal.

"I'm not here to prosecute," Tyrell argued, taking a briefcase from the ISB agent on his left and holding it up halfway. "I'm here to make a deal."

The Toydarian eyed him suspiciously for a moment. All things considered, the Toydarian didn't have much reason to trust him. Though, the briefcase which was assumedly full of credits was a very tempting bait. After a brief moment of hesitation, the Toydarian held out his hand, motioning for the death stick. Tyrell stepped towards him and handed it over. He watched as the alien inspected the narcotic carefully.

"Yeah, it is one of mine," confirmed the Toydarian after a moment of inspection.

"I've heard that certain individuals like Jedi and Sith who take these find their connection to the force weakened or severed. Is this the truth?"

"Ehhhh, whatsit toya?" The alien questioned, browed raised inquisitively.

"Answer the question. You're in no position to question me."

The alien scowled. "I don't know any fucking Jedi, but I have heard such things, yes."

That was the answer Tyrell had been hoping for. Aside from the basic combat stims when he was younger, and the occasional stimulant to stay awake during long fleet engagements, Tyrell had never done any drugs. He'd certainly never even considered doing anything on the level of death sticks. Until recently, that was. The encounter he had over Mygeeto still haunted him. Being able to see that Sith commander so closely, feeling the death and anguish of the men beneath his command. It was all far too much to bear. Even thinking about it nearly made him shiver. The 'Force' had brought him enough pain, it was time to end it.

Tyrell lifted the briefcase and set it down on the Toydarian's desk. "I'll take as much as this will get me," he declared. Popping the briefcase open revealed stacks of Electrum Galatic-Standard Credsticks. Fifty-five thousand, to be exact. The Toydarian's eyes widened, a grin crawling across his gross, tusked face.

"Aren't you ehhh, a little old for death sticks?" The alien asked with a humorous tone.

"Nobody will learn of this transaction, or I'll have drawn and quartered behind a turbo-boosted DF-5. Each one of you," Tyrell's tone was grave and authoritative. His eyes slowly scanned the criminals in the room, ignoring the Toydarian's jest entirely.

"Now hurry up, I don't have all day. When the time comes, remember the New-Imperial generosity I've shown you."

 

[Trajan Fett]

// MANCATCHER //
// OBJECTIVE // Black Dice
// FOCUS // Khudak Dai

---

---

---

<"...Ah fuck..."> Trajan said aloud to her open display of ignorance to the figure of speech. He had a lot more cut out for him working with her than he originally thought. Where the hell was Arador Khan when he needed him? Planet side apparently.

<"Chief?"> He let out...he couldn't care. Twisting his upper body to avoid the thrust of a vibro knife headed toward his rib cage he slammed his own vibro knife into the man's extended fore-arm, jabbing his pistol into the side of the man's skull before firing off another sonic round which sent it exploding into a pink mist.

<"Three."> He said, ripping the vibro-knife from the flesh before turning to plant a kick into the chest of another approaching ganger, sending him down into the floor beneath before the characteristic ring of a sonic round caved in his chest. Four. They were in the thick of it with many...many...levels to go.

 

[Boram Predor]

// Moff Predor //
// Objective // 3 // Rally the People of Phaeda //
// Focus // OPEN //

---

---

One of his assistants gave a nod, a sign that it was time to begin. A sign that was returned with a hefty sigh. Boram truly wasn't looking forward to have to rally backwater people such as these. But if his face would be the one seen in all the Holonet papers as the forward force of the Empire, then he could suffer a few simpletons. He took one last sip of the tea on his dresser, and a final lasting grimace into his own eyes in the mirror.

He could only procrastinate this so much...

His arm brushed aside the curtain to the balcony he would speak from, an array of microphones and cameras for him to speak down to the citizenry from. He took a second to move forward, busy suppressing a cough from the putrid air of Phaeda. With one last deep breath of the fresh oxygen behind him, Moff Predor forced his eyes into a wide and accepting gaze. His mouth unfreezing from it's natural grimace into something appearing to be a warm, proud smile.

A gloved hand reached into the sky, trying to rouse up cheers from the fairly disinterred pedestrians in the streets. He chewed his lip as his hands gripped the railing of the balcony tightly, staring out into the masses below.

"Good evening, Phaedaens..." His grey eyes flipped away from the people below, focusing on the camera droids floating around him. "Today is an auspicious day for us all!"

The people of Phaeda didn't matter, not when the eyes of the galaxy were there as well.

 

[Hiram Voss]

Objective III: Operational Overwatch
Location: INV Rapier, Phaedan orbit.

Hiram leaned against the fore of the command deck watching the stars of the system. The occassional TIE fighter passing in and out, criss-crossing the system for any form of interference by the local ad hoc resistance. Hiram watched them waiting for a sensor ping that would set them off on the hunt for any rebels bold enough to try and flee. "Sir," A voice came behind him, and Hiram slowly turned to respond. Boars. Now looking all timid and such, after their previous encounter, "Sir, I wanted to apologise." Lieutenant Boars stammered, "What was said, was unprofessional and unbecoming of a junior officer. I-I-" Hiram raised his hand shook his head silently.

Hiram gave a sneer to the other crew working on the bridge sending them back to their posts. All the while he reached up and wrapped an arm around Boars' shoulder, "You've got spirit, lieutenant. A lot of spirit that can't and shouldn't be wasted on blind loyalty." He began to walk across the bridge, "Some of these guys, the big fish, they're always looking out for themselves. Get it in their heads they're bigger than the Galaxy and make mistakes." He then broke away from Boars' embrace and then sat opposite him in a chair, "This New Imperial Order isn't the first group out there to snub the Sith. Probably won't be the last." Voss drawled, "But, I think if we keep heads on our shoulders, the bastards in charge accountable," He cocked his head to the side, and shrugged, "Then this whole crazy enterprise might be damn worth something." The older officer then reclined.

"Now, enough with the gladhanding, and keep an eye out. I don't want to lose the initiative."

 

[Lunafreya Solidor]

// OPERATION BLACK DICE //
// VK-462 //

One might say she was doing this because she wanted to and chose how she wanted to do it. When she was informed by the High Command about what had happened, Lunafreya immediately stepped forward in place of her colleagues and offered herself to do a small mission of great importance. The mission was to burn credits at the largest casino on the planet, get information about the stolen parts of Epitaph and bond with the local government to ensure that the New Imperial Order retained loyalty and control over the planet. She soon tried to make sure she was well informed about how things worked in Phaeda, that although her entire government was bathed in corruption, there was a boss crime that had her hand stuck in all the right pockets to get anything done on the planet. Including submission to New Imperial Order.

The name of the individual in question was Count Finn Calindor. Known for his alias, King of the Underworld and The Gamemaster, he was, as her steward found out, the major supplier and funder of the Partisans rebels and probably the de facto head of the unofficial government in the planet. He owned a thousand business on the planet, but it was on the Grand Casino that he lived and occupied as his throne room. She had a plan on how to achieve her goals, but it was bold and bloody, two words she adored.

Dressed in a lascivious dress made of the exotic vine-silk, a material that was probably worth half of the planet, adorned with diamonds and precious gems, covered by the white-fur of the rare zalorian rock-lions like a scarf around her white skin shoulders all studded with gray freckles. She waited inside the speeder as Zozoped opened the door for her, slowly moving through the entrance of the casino until she had barely time to even paraded into its doors as a creature dressed in Nova Corps rags appeared before her.

"Master Sergeant Warlock reporting."
In the first instance, she immediately raised her right hand high, her index finger covered by a full finger ring in the shape of a claw drawn, making her Barabel sheathe his dagger back to his waist. In the second instance, she analyzed the figure before her from the top of her helmet to the bottom of her boots in a fluid gesture with her violet eyes, then stopped at the reflection of that helmet and stuck her tongue out high in the roof of her mouth, making a loud noise with it.
"I asked for a escort, that at least meant dressing appropriately, but ...", she turned and approached the creature and seemed to smell its presence. “You will do, or at least I hope so. Follow me and try to blend in, trooper.”

She then turned and started walking through the doors of the Casino, where two huge guards opened the doors for Lunafreya. A courtesy droid soon appeared in front of the three, a golden Orbot unit and indicated with his arm in a direction of the casino.
“Greetings, Princess Lunafreya Solidor. I’m unit 346-O, but you may call me O6. I'm here to instruct you and accompany you at the casino.”
“Very well, droid. Take me to the hintaro tables. ”
“This way, Your Grace.”, The unit started to move in some direction to the right and Lunafreya started to walk behind, so she could whisper to the trooper in a calm tone of voice.

“All right, sergeant... Warren, our goal here is information. So keep it together, did they gave a credit card as well?”, She actually was not given one willingly, she took it almost by force from the head of the treasury department before coming here.

The unit then stopped and waved her arm towards a more private area, where several other tables surrounded the young princess. She pressed the button on her side of the table and waited for the seat to rise for her to take it, delicately crossing her legs as the unit in front of her asked.
“Welcome to the Grand Casino, would you like me to explain the rules of the game?”
She lifted a small square golden plastic thing from her pocket in her white-fur scarf, her card, and tucked it in the appropriate place on the table.
“I will make a bet for three hundred. Numbers six, two, four and two.”, She turned her head to the trooper beside her smiling. "It's my birthday on my planet."

The unit rolled the dice in front of the princess, who didn't even bother to watch them, she just lifted a pack of cicadas with cigarette holders from her scarf, placing one of them in her mouth and snapping her fingers back and forth, until her Barabel raised a lighter and light up the same in your mouth.

"Would you care for a drink?", Another droid asked, already approaching where she sat.
"How is your ambrostine doing?" She asked, the dice still rolling.
"Fine, they are a special vintage from Achillea, signed by House Caadrias itself."
She made a sound of pure contempt as she took the cicada out of her mouth, pouring smoke into the little droid's face. Even thinking about drinking the piss the Caadrias made were something that she could not bare.
"Despicable... Not a damn ambrostine that is worth my time in this side of the galaxy... Fine, bring me one, you worthless barrel of screws." She murmured in a slow tone of voice so that the machine did not listened. The dice stopped and the gambler tossed them at the table; two fives, one two and a three.

"I'm sorry for your loss, madam, would you care to make another bet?"
“Yes, I’m beating ten thousand.”, She spoke casually as she put the cicada back in her mouth.
“Excuse me?”, Then she tapped her credit card again and waited for the credits to go approved to the bettor's table. “All right, betting ten thousand, which number?”

"Six, six, six, six.", She turned to face the trooper again. "That is my fathers birthday." and the bettor spun the dice in the cup again, he spun and spun, until the small mechanical barrel with Lunafreya's drink returned, she took the drink from the tray on top of him and made a gentle gesture with the cigarra in her hand looking to the dice before the bettor releases them on the table.

“Six, six six, six… you win.”, she then took a sip of her cup and made a frown in disgust to the beverage in her hand, sipping only bits of it.
“Bet it all again. Six, six, six, six.”
“All right, madam…”, and once again the dice rolled inside the spinning cup, she repeated what just happened, this time without any moves from her part and the dice gave her, her number. From lowzy forty thousand, she now had one hundred and forty thousand credits.
“You won, madam.”

"Oh good, good... bet it all again... Six, six, six, six.", She spoke with a hard look, the machine hardly moved for a moment, until Lunafreya sipped her drink again, the gambler spun the dice for much longer this time and even so, they gave the numbers the elzeri said, now adding an amount of six hundred and forty thousand credits. She didn't even smile, she just raised her hand with the cigarra, tapping the ashes over one of the dices and pointed to the table next to theirs, to the Jubilee Wheel. “Move all my gains to that table. I'm done with this one.”, She got up and started walking again, noting that in some corners, two whiphids from the security units started to follow and watch her moves.

 

[Dekar Calloglast]

\\ Phaeda, streets
\\ Give the Moff a nice and proper welcome
\\ Tags: Boram Predor

Preaching the Priest's gospel one song at a time

There was a fast current of trash flowing down the street in both directions. Phaeda was nothing if not a hive of scum and villainy. A planet filled with the last dregs of sentience, able to make even Hutt Space look appealing in comparison. Whether it was the con artist who couldn't even scam the sparklemint stick off a twi'lek child or the gambler who always bets against the wookiee in high-level dejarik, the low-lives of Phaeda were made up almost entirely by the failures and rejects of other more successful shadowports.

So when some high and mighty Imperial Moff tried to address its people with words like "auspicious" it had about the same weight as giving an aurodium finish to a bantha stick. Sure, the stick looked nice and shiny afterwards, but everyone will just be wondering why in Corellia's seven hells you'd ever put aurodium on a bantha stick. It made Tace roll his eyes beneath his helmet.

Whatever the Moff wanted to accomplish for the New Imperial Order, this was not the way to do that. There was little doubt in Tace's mind that it would prove impossible for the Mando to get a few words in with the white-haired man from down there in the streets, but perhaps, he thought, there was another way to let him know it might be time to change course.

Only a few 'citizens' were actually staring up towards the balcony, fewer still to lend their ears. The overall attitude seemed to be one of cynicism and distrust towards the representative of order trying to bring attention to himself. He heard some rather uncouth remarks uttered at the man's expense from within the crowd. The people were too jaded and dejected to have any room left for a few embellished words in their lives, what the New Imperials had to do was make existence on this rock more tolerable through actions, not speeches. Tace knew just the way to let them know.

He flipped a wupiupi to the vendor next to him, picking up one of the man's goods. The spheroid sat nicely in Tace's hand as he tossed it lightly a couple of times to get a feel for its weight. Once he thought he had it, he wound up briefly before launching the oomsh-fruit directly at the Moff, hoping to paint the man's rather ostentatious attire a nice and slimy green. That'd make for an excellent welcome to the underworld for the pompous lad, he thought. Shame about the drip, though.

 

[Agrippa]

THE LILY
​

The deal proposed the New Imperials, when they arrived, to turn a blind eye to Lady Essia's illicit activities and in return his syndicate would act as an ally in the shadows to the Imperials. Essia's syndicate primarily dealt in the trade of information and secrets, but it also made a lot of cash procuring narcotics, smuggling liquor and tobacco, and prostitution. The deal was fair, as long as Essia kept his end of the bargain, especially when it came to solid information regarding the Parisian militia. No Imperial worth his salt would ever expect that uprooting a guerrilla movement would take a short time; this was a process, a long one. Rebel structures were always the worst enemies, they were unpredictable, not obvious and did not adhere to conventional warfare.

One might say that fighting rebel elements was a much more complicated task than battling the behemoth that was the Sith Empire.

And they won't be wrong.

I struck the deal, although I wasn't completely sure of the weight of my authority in this process but scampering to the ISB to get an answer seemed irrational...and showed weakness. To people like Essia, you never showed weakness, no matter what it cost ya. He invited me to come back later for a special V.I.P party but I curtly refused and I left.

I went straight to the bar for a strong drink.

 

[Spencer Varanin]

//: By Her Grace //:
//: Chinesti //:
//: Black Dice - Answering His Summon //:
//: Never Can Say Goodbye //: Vaulkhar

The vulnerability was a fleeting moment for the woman, emotions getting the best of her as she remembered the past. Spencer usually composed even in the face of some of her most significant trials. Vaulkhar had seen her during a moment in her life where she wondered if she had a future. A life full of constant heartache wondering if it would be the last time, the moment she had to say goodbye. He had entered her life and turned it upside down, showing her a vision of what could have been. In the end, she felt her familiar friend, heartache.

The tea sat beside the cookies, he had remembered what her favorite flavor was, and she was surprised. Her face softened, seeing the display. He had gone through the effort of gathering her favorite things, maybe this wasn't going to continue as she thought it would. Vaulkhar wasn't a bad man, at least not when they had met. Yet, when she looked at him, she could stare into the dark void of the wound he had become. Slender fingers wrapped around the teacup, warmth protecting her from the abnormal chill that hung in the air. The empath knew where it was coming from, but she did her best to ignore it - he had gone through the trouble of protecting her.

As much as she wanted to cut him off, make him stop talking - she allowed him to finish—the torrent of emotions brewing underneath the Master's surface. The tea kept her occupied as he continued. In the end, he thanked her, surprise washed over her features once more. "Abandon him?" The thought never had occurred to her, "Why would I have abandoned my child? It was not his choice to be brought into this life, he didn't choose us to be his parents. I could never have abandoned him." The cup found its place on the small saucer near the cookies that remained untouched. She cleared her throat as she had time to digest his words.

"If I'm to try and not hold myself accountable for things that I cannot control, then you should also do the same Vaulkhar." Her voice lacked the sharpness it had when she first arrived, but it retained the hint of coldness she had developed over the years. "You chased a monster to the ends of the galaxy, you put the burden of his sins upon your shoulders and sacrifice everything to stop him. You refused to ask for help. You feel this responsibility for his actions and that you must be the one to stop him." The emotional storm began to breakthrough in the Echani woman's heart as she stared at the father of her child, "Why are you the man that has to carry the torch to burn your father's legacy? Is that what is most important to you?" She couldn't look at him, her eyes averted his gaze, she had to say the things she's wanted to say all this time.

"You treat your life like it's a mission, one that you cannot escape. You had a choice before Kintan. We could have protected Errant just fine - together." Vaulkhar was a supreme duelist, no one could match his blade in combat. At the time, she was the Queen Regent of Eshan - guards surrounded her at all times; even then, she was a formidable practitioner of the Force. No one could harm their progeny, not Kaine Zambrano, the entire family, or the Empire. Spencer knew she would tap into every fountain of power she could to protect the boy.

"Vaulkhar, why can't you walk beside your son and me? Must you always find some way to sacrifice your happiness for the sake of everyone else? For once, I wish you would use that selfishness the Zambranos are known for, just to be happy." Finally, looking back at him, as much as her heart belonged to Ashin Varanin - Vaulkhar had entered her life and created a piece of it that belonged to him. She could never admit it, but as she stared at the man, passed the Force wound, and into the good that still resided in his heart - Spencer knew that a part of her always loved Vaulkhar and always would.

 

[Vaulkhar]

// Lord Executor //
// Location // Chinesti //
// Objective // Black Dice // Answers //
// Focus // Spencer Varanin //

---

---

"If I turn my back on this fight, I cannot call myself the boy's father," Vaulkhar stated, his words firm and finalized. "You raised him to be far more than a soldier. I have observed him in length given my unease at seeing him here, ready to take up this war," as he spoke, the fallen Jedi peeled back the gauntlets encasing his pale hands, his gaze noticeably locked on the motions, rather than the woman before him. "He thinks beyond the blade. His emotions are felt at full before he acts, used as a guide, but not entirely at control. Still, the boy is decisive and true to whatever code he holds dear. Errant is so young, yet he is shaping up to be a great man. How can I, his father, look him in the eye knowing I've abandoned my fight? How can I run away from it all and expect him to respect me, Spencer?" he posed the question while reaching forth with one hand, slender fingers entrapping the warm cup of tea.

'Tell her the truth.'

Vaulkhar blinked, his crimson gaze shifting back up at the woman. He craned his neck, searching elsewhere in the room for something. Seeing nothing beyond the frightened owner, the wound slowly dragged his attention back to Spencer, the warm glass lifted to his lips once again. He took a small sip before setting it back in place.

"There is meaning in all things, Spencer. The force permeates all life, guiding them about in some manner, whether or not the creature is aware of it. I can't say why I exist. I doubt anyone can, but I believe I'm here to put an end to my father's reign of tyranny. For every transcendent master of the force who hasn't abandoned the fight to live in obscurity, ten Sith Lords are bearing down on the galaxy at large. For every Sith Lord, there are one hundred dead apprentices and one hundred thousand dead innocents. There aren't enough heroes in the galaxy. There never was," Vaulkhar crossed his arms, crimson eyes locked on Spencer's hazel gaze. "The Silver Jedi hideaway, playing at being Jedi. The Galactic Alliance is on the rise, sure, but they still do not have the manpower or soldiers capable of contesting the Sith Empire. The Outer Planetary Alliance is as useless as ever, while the Confederacy pretend they are better than the filthy Sith scum they are. Everywhere you turn, the galaxy is on fire. Someone has to be there to put it out, and if won't be the proverbial hero, it'll be me."

'You're avoiding the point, Vaulkhar. Tell her the truth.'

Once more, the fallen Jedi went rigid, his eyes narrowing. While he appeared cognisant on the outside, he fell inward. His surroundings fell away to the shattered plane that made up his mindscape. At Vaulkhar's back, hungering darkness oozed forward, jagged fissures stretched onwards. The remnants of Kintan, his final battlefield hovered all around him, bodies floating through spaces, shattered stones and crumbling buildings decorating the skies. A single light pierced the darkness, a lone form silhouetted against the backdrop of iridescent silver. Vaulkhar snarled as the shine fell about the being, encasing him in a protective aura meant to ward off the host's parasitic touch.

'Ven,' Vaulkhar took a step forward, the fissures growing as the ground beneath him further broke away, revealing equally infinite darkness beneath him.

'You called her here for more than our son, Vaulkhar. Ask her for help. You need her, she is your only hope at fixing all this,' Ven motioned towards the faltering surroundings. 'You are going mad in your rage. You've lost yourself to this darkness once, and we only narrowly escaped with the help of Cotan. Ask her for help. Tell her you've missed her, tell her you've longed for your time together, and tell her you aim to reclaim your role in Errant's life. This is it. She won't give you another chance, you know damn well we aren't worth it.'

'You know nothing!' Vaulkhar lashed out, his hand whipping in the direction of the interloper. The remnants of war cascaded towards the bright one's figure, threatening to overwhelm him in a field of endless debris.

'Vaulkhar,' Ven shook his head, a hand rising to meet the storm. Everything froze in place. 'You can pretend you're fine fighting this battle, but I know the truth. You follow this path because I walked it to our death. This is a second chance, one we don't deserve. Feel as Errant feels, accept your emotions for what they are. They will not fail you.'

Vaulkhar's eyes snapped open, the exchange within his mind falling away, all of a few seconds passing since he disappeared into the mindscape.

"Spencer, I-" Vaulkhar paused, the words trapped in his throat. A conflict raged within his eye, the endless war to maintain control replaced by something else, a strange feeling he'd forgotten during his cursed existence. The warmth of hope momentarily gripped his chest, spreading through him long enough for the former Sith Lord to look up at the woman, his icy gaze melting away to an unexpected warmth. "If I still had a place in your life, I would take it without hesitation," the words came out before he could stop them, the monstrosity lost in a momentary lapse of control. "But Errant needs us now. If he's going to fight in this war, we must ensure his safety at all costs."

 

[Agrippa]

THE LILY
​

Enjoying my drink did not last much long. Windows shattered under the sudden eruption of heavy blaster fire. Those sitting next to the windows were mentioned in tomorrow's news about the Parisian Partisans' terror attack on the Lily. Us, veterans, recognized the firepower of a gattling gun. Its sound rattled the bones quite literally. I tumbled over the bar behind cover but knew nothing in the damn cantina could withstand the gun's punch. It all came down to luck.

A few feet next to me was Hooks tending one of the Mistryl Shadow Guards, she'd taken a glancing hit rupturing her arm. I doubted she'd keep it, despite Hooks' persuasive words of the opposite. The other shadow guard had disappeared. We'd find out much later she'd stood behind the attack. I peeked over cover and saw running patrons evaporating when struck. It's a nasty business, rebel terrorists and whatnot, always striking soft targets for maximum effect. It's how such warfare was conducted, it all came down to breaking the enemy's morale or eroding their cassus belli through sheer brutality.

I couldn't make out where the rest of the Company were and when the gattling gun's line of fire slowly but surely approached the bar, I cursed their mothers to death and gave one last farewell to Hooks who was still completely devoted to the shadow guard lying in his arms. Been a good fight, brothers, pity we'd go like that.

 

[Kolson Vrask]

// VANDAL // ISB
// OBJECTIVE // Black Dice
// FOCUS // Avernus | OPEN

Like fish in a barrel. His entire form was on the swivel, squeezing the trigger of his charric rifle to send rapid fire pulses into the stunned gangers, eventually ripping away a long, shredding volley of the rifle to rip through a solid three or four of them as the chaos of the brief exchange was onset. Even if the Sith might've expected (or just REALLY hoped) his industrial lord of war confidant might've come to free the damsel, the ISB operative was a fitting, if war less powerful fill in.

Eventually, the fire fight was full onset, Vandal clad in his bodyglove moved to flip over a durasteel table and clamored behind it for cover. Pinned behind it, the thick metallic surface began to eat up blaster and particle beam bolts in the thick of it.

<"Ahhhh-"> Berik let out, glancing back to the Pureblood, hoping that he might have a better plan to clear out the last dozen or so. An interesting turn of fates but...he was a Sith Lord after all. Surely he had a plan. Granted he really shouldn't trust the man who had...thirst blasters trained on him but moments before. Not as if he was banking on ISB to bail him out. Really, it was only a strange entangling of fates.

 

[Hiram Voss]

Objective III: Operational Overwatch
Location: NIV Rapier, Phaedan Orbit.

"And you're absolutely sure, that this was just a blip? No further reading but just the one ping?" Hiram drawled in a slow, long and drawn out musing. He leaned in closer to the sensor officers console and starred at that screen. The young ensign sat at her console gave a slow nod.

"Y-yessir." She stammered licking her lips, "We sensed a radiation reading sir, that could only be explained by engine ignition. But it was only-"

"Ships engines like that ensign, don't just disappear after two seconds lieutenant," The corvette commander snapped, interrupting his subordinate before tapping the screen. The eye of the storm where the blip had surfaced before disappearing, "Now that's a little too suspicious for my liking." He turned his head and gestured across the bridge to the signals officer, "Call the Dragoon and Mastodon, I want vessels patrolling a perimeter around the sector this weather event in...." Hiram paused and turned his attentions to the young ensign who had gone pale, "Which sector is this?"

The ensign gave a quick nod and a deep breath, "Sector, Dee-Seven, by four-three-nine sir."

"Dee-Seven by Four Three Nine." Hiram barked to his crew, "And I want us moving there, now as if the Sovereign Imperator himself commanded it." He gave a pat on the back to the ensign before moving back toward the wider bridge and settling himself back into his seat. Hiram's command had set in play a whirlwind of chaos as the crew of the Rapier hastily moved to execute his command.

Lieutenant Boars approached and stood to attention by Hiram, datapad in hand, "Commander, sir." Boars began, "I've just calculated the distance between where the Epitaph docked, and where we've picked this ping up. Sir, with all due respect, these rebels would not be able to dispatch the hyperdrive and other missing equipment there, within the time since and under pursuit by our men." Hiram seemed to stare through him, and Hadrian Boars stiffened his posture, "With of course, all due respect, why are we taking three vessels out of patrol to secure this... This potential nothing burger?"

"The attack on the Epitaph lieutenant may have been a distraction." Voss mused aloud, "It's a possibility I hadn't considered, but think about it. Big vessel lands, crawling with stormtroopers. What better way to pull an entire annexation forces attention somewhere else and distract them by audaciously jacking a hyperdrive?" Hiram cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow at Boars. The young lieutenant starred back, thought about it, and then slowly nodded his head. "Makes perfect sense that you direct the stormtroopers and others on a wild bantha chase. Sacrifice a few grunts to extract someone or something, of greater value while they're on the hunt."

Voss' head turned to the helmsman, "Lieutenant, I want us in that sector within the next two minutes or there will be hell to pay."

 

[Agrippa]

THE LILY
​

The blasting did not stop but the destruction did as if the gattling gun's bolts disappeared in thin air midway. I looked up tentatively to see what the hell was going. A minute ago I had come to the terms with Gentleman Death but he refused to take me away and now I saw why. In the midst of the devastation of the cantina stood Faceless with arms stretched forward groping at the air. An ethereal barrier replaced the shattered windows and blocked entry of the relentless and stubborn fire of the gattling gun.

Sirens in the distance nearing to our destination ceased the gattling gun's fury and whoever piloted the vessel hit the throttle and escaped retribution. What remained was an eerily silent one-sided battlefield with Faceless standing in the midst of ground zero panting hard, his hands on his knees. From the havoc the few survivors stood up, most badly wounded. Bingo popped out from behind a tumbled table, Hawkeye just came out of the toilet and even his usually indiscernible expressions were painted with clear surprise. And with Hooks still tending like a stubborn fool the shadow guard, Gladius Company had survived.

The local law enforcement and national guard arrived after five minutes. Throughout the whole time we all remained speechless and stunned, very unprofessional for professional soldiers.

Finally, a smirk grew on my face as a nefarious thought crossed my mind.

I knew I could alter the deal.