Mission Aggressive Negotiations | THR . TIC

[Janous Ryss]

Tag: Garo Vevut-Varkor Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata Aselia Verd​

LOLA SAYU - OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

Janous sat strapped to his seat as the shuttle shook around him. The normal vibrations that would shake him during the trip dead to his metal body. He found it odd that he missed it. No matter how violent the trip would be, it would be far more welcome than the easy ride down from dead sensations.


Janous loomed above his comrades as he joined them, his metallic form made to tower above those around him. He supposed he should be grateful, it made him into a better weapon. He was painted white and blue, with a slight glow in his visor. His movements carried none of his emotion, simply a dutiful march towards the latest battle.


While he received his orders he attached his jetpack. Even as his mask of a face remained expressionless, he could feel himself smirking.


"With pleasure ma'am."


He grabbed his weapons. A HV-37 Squad Repeating Blaster attached to his metal body just as easily as when he had flesh, at his hip was a Mobius Ban-Hammer that was already linked to him, an Enclave's Herald, with an SM-10a in reserve. Picking up and attaching several of the thermal detonators before grabbing a missile launcher.


Even despite his dulled senses, he had been happier than he had been in some time. The return to proper battle felt like being reunited with an old friend.


"Orders fully understood." A hint of joy carrying even in his robotic tone.


Today was going to be a good day.

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: The Citadel, Warden's office
OBJECTIVE: Take down all who come to close...
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: Ronhar Tane | Ze'bast Verd | Garo Vevut-Varkor | Aselia Verd | John Shepherd | Korda Veydran | Verity Stuyveris | Calissova | Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata | Itzhal Volkihar | Dominique Vexx | Gavin Restur | Loken | Janous Ryss | Rackham | Barragh Nenn

Tapping his hands against eachother, calmly pressing the tips of his fingers against eachother, a man wearing a strange attire, adorned with a smiling mask and a tophat looked carefully at the displays presented in front of him on a simple, slab gray desk. The sudden vanishing of the Warden Primus had truly put the security and control of many of the penal facilities within the Imperial Confederation's control in jeopardy. It was because of this, that this being known as the Lord of Hunger had donned the guise and persona of the Dealmaker to oversee the proper transition of the imperial detention and penal facilities. The Ciradel though, was special...it was the crux of Warden Primus' designs, the place from which so many of the high value targets would be brought to their final destinations. This was the lynchpin facility and as such, it was unavoidable for the Dealmaker to end up inspecting this place.

Still, the timing could not have been worse. The brazen nature of the Supreme Commander had already put some strain on his work and responsibilities, distracting him from his own schemes and plans to such a degree that it was becoming nigh untenable to retain such operational activity within the Imperial Confederation. And to make matters worse, exactly on the day he was supposed to sign off his approval and move on, there were alarms blaring all over the place suggesting the least expected of occurances: a break-in rather than a break out.

"KRONOS, secure all the files of this facility...I want to know which were the most recently entered high priority and high value detainees," The monster's eyes glared towards the image of Marlon Sularen on a cupboard in the desk, a sign that the warden who had been sent for a week on leave was a fan of the supreme commander. No wonder there was so much interest in this place... if the Lord commander turned this into his private detainment facility to put his victims through, it would obviously gain the attention from others. "Incidentally...level thirty four, we're essentially on the central floor. Open up all communications...not to talk, but to see if we can gleam anything from what's happening. Shut down all communication systems apart from this facilities own systems. Block all transponders, all transeivers that have not been connected physically to the Citadel's systems. I want full control over this situation..."​

 

[Mika Tai En]

Aggressive Negotiations

Objective: Cause mayhem earn power
Location: The Citadel, Lola Sayu
Tags: OPEN

Mika didn't know why she was on Lola Sayu. She had knowledge of the place from her time as an Imperial Knight. But she had been seduced from the calm cradle of the Imperial Confederation into the embrace of darkness. Now rudderless since the disappearance of her Dark Queen, Mika would chalk the pull up to the Force. She had no idea what her makers had implanted inside her head.

Even though she trusted "the Force", Mika had no idea what she was doing heading to Lola Sayu. No matter what the Force was saying to her though she wasn't about to just walk into the Citadel. She was at best a deserter. Perhaps some would deem her a traitor. There had to be something more to this notion.

Upon exiting hyperspace Mika saw what had drawn her here. No sense of honor. No expectation that she stand up and take punishment for running into the arms of the darkness. Republic and Mandalorian drop ships were sending forces to the prison. Mika was here to show her former bosses what a knight who gave up noble protection duty could do.

It was time to take another step forward. It was time to make her Dark Queen proud. Wherever she was. Using an older Imperial code Mika took her ship down into the hangar of the prison. With a smirk on her lips she placed her helmet over her head and confidently strode down the ship's ramp.

The alarms within the prison were already blaring. Mika used the Force to locate the center of the disruption. Another smirk came to her lips, this time hidden under her mask, as Mika started off in that direction. With a snap-hiss Kurokage came to life. Its violet glow adding to the red from the alarm lights on the walls. Yorukage was in her other hand ready to be of use if needed. It was time to find some Mandalorians or Republicans.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Armor
  • Pulsiva Mk.II Bodysuit
• Weapons
  • Kurokage – Primary standard lightsaber – Violet blade
  • Yorukage – shoto lightsaber – Red Wine blade

 

[Cynan Obaith]

Objective: Survive till rescue arrives
Outfit: Shackled prisoner
Tag: Loken | Marlon Sularen

Cynan prayed the days that any non-violent attempts were made for his release and that the fool of a supreme commander would release that accepting the High Republic terms was the best chance he had to maintain any ability to come across as the threatening dictator he was. As strange as it might seem to surrender to terms. It was far better to release a prisoner than to have one of the most secure bases in the Imperial Confederacy infiltrated, broken into and Cynan liberated. Because that showed that this imperial control was weak. That they had no authority over the citizens. It would be the crack in the dam that would inevitably cause more severe, rebellious cracks and breaks until the dam was bursting free from control.

Leaning against the wall, he heard the sounds of soldiers coming for him. The hurried stomps that signified concern and demonstrated that Marlon had made a fatal error, after the litany of other errors he had made. Cynan was not someone who would break, he was not someone who surrendered to the torture. His body weakened and damaged in perhaps permanent ways due to the torture. But he laughed in their faces. Because they could never understand where Cynan was coming from. How he saw the future that could be shaped with the right people in the correct roles.

"Ah. Marlon seems to continued to blunder in his objectives with Corellia. A shame." Cynan looked over to the imperials, unfazed of the stormtroopers and the skills they posed. If he died, then it would only incentive the High Republic to ensure that things were shut down on the imperial side of threats.

Rising to his feet, Cynan shrugging his shoulders, "they are already demonstrating how weak these imperial measures are. Especially since I was told Marlon personally wanted to increase the level of security and protection here." Looking over to the lead stormtrooper, "might be safer for you and your men to leave. Live to fight another day. Avoid continuing the errors of your leaders." Cynan stated in a plain voice, there was no threat and there was no ill-intent, just a genuine belief that they could not survive this fight.

"If you are intent on remaining, shall we start making bets on how long it takes the High Republic to overwhelm the defences here? I am thinking 30 minutes maximum."

 

[Calissova]

Location: Imperial Citadel - Lola Sayu
Mission Objective: Secure the prisoner.
Allies: Joseph Torson Barragh Nenn
Enemies: Cynan Obaith

Rising to his feet, Cynan shrugging his shoulders, "they are already demonstrating how weak these imperial measures are. Especially since I was told Marlon personally wanted to increase the level of security and protection here." Looking over to the lead stormtrooper, "might be safer for you and your men to leave. Live to fight another day. Avoid continuing the errors of your leaders." Cynan stated in a plain voice, there was no threat and there was no ill-intent, just a genuine belief that they could not survive this fight.

"If you are intent on remaining, shall we start making bets on how long it takes the High Republic to overwhelm the defences here? I am thinking 30 minutes maximum."

“Break his jaw.”

Calissova immediately stepped towards the prisoner, her disruptor rifle shifting in her grip. Without hesitation, she drove the weapon’s butt towards the Ambassador’s ( Cynan Obaith ) jaw in a crushgaunt-enhanced strike delivered with equal parts violence and precision, intended to shatter his jaw exactly as directed!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Advanced Tactical Bodyglove ‘Titan’ - Appearance
  
  • Forearm
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II - L
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III "Force Avenger" Energy Shield
  • Utility
    
    • FAE/S-10 Personal Concealment System
    • FAE/C-05 Infiltration Suite
    • LO-PCR-9 "Trailforge" Portable Powercell Recharger
• FAE/W-17 Electromagnetic Plasma Hand Cannon (2)
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S2 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium Gas and CryoBan Coolant (20)
• PbDR-01 N.S.
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
  • Ammunition
    
    • Blaster Power Pack - Tibanna Gas / Power Cell (10)
• FAE/MDE-01-S2 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (4)
• Infrared Smoke Grenade (2)

 

[Searal Nis]

Lola Sayu was not a planet anyone would want to be. The surface was harsh and craggy, its cracked open core oozing molten sulfur in hellish lakes. It was a planet dreamed up in nightmares, and perfect for a prison. However, as an assignment, Searal found it degrading. Her master told her that this was to build humility and respect. Searal believed herself extremely modest and respectful, so it could only be an insult. Days before the attack, she had spent her time in tedious patrols and eventually conceded her ego enough to help the staff with the occasional defiant inmate.

But the longer she remained in this prison, the more obvious the tension became. There was a palpable anxiety that bled through every corner of the Citadel, spreading its way across like an infection. This wasn't just a regular prison; it was one of the most secure prisons in one of the most uninhabitable planets in the galaxy. These men and women were people the Imperial Confederation deemed so dangerous that they were sentenced to be forgotten. But one of them wasn't forgotten. She realized she wasn't here to have her time wasted or patience tested, but instead she was being stationed here as a test, a demonstration of her skills. Boredom was replaced by the low hum of anxiety, the exciting tension of wanting to prove herself, and yet the gnawing fear she kept denying was even there.

On the day of the attack, she was making her way out of the core of the citadel, walking towards the prison wings with marginally less security. There was something about today that gave her an odd sense of dread, and then suddenly she heard a large explosion coming from somewhere. Everyone expected an attack, but it was still a surprise; the sheer audacity and violence of it could not be easily prepared for, even in a place like this. It left Searal feeling almost nauseated, as suddenly a ricochet of explosions engulfed the echoed throughout the entire prison. For a split second, she wondered if the entire planet was finally collapsing in on itself. When she came to her senses, she turned on her com-link resting on her wrist-guard and shouted, "We're under attack!"

[OPEN]

 

[Tatiana Sah]

"Director." As Imperial Confederation forces raced to take back control of the situation, a transmission was beamed directly at Citadel Command. "This is an excessive loss of resources incurred over an Ambassador that has committed no crime against your people. I recommend you release the prisoner -- then the search and rescue operation would be terminated before further loss occurs." It was a dispassionate, feminine voice that addressed those overseeing the response efforts. The source of the broadcast, however, couldn't be immediately identified, but was believed to be close.

"You should be aware off-world transmissions will be blocked during the course of retrieval. Please arrange for the immediate release of Ambassador Obaith into our custody."

Was this... 'war?' Tatiana had been curious to witness one of these large-scale confrontations up close. Archival material had certainly painted detailed understandings of it, but there was so much that couldn't be conveyed. The way the air trembled. The scorched scent of blaster fire. An urgency of time as each side sought to advance ahead of the other, which a remote viewer couldn't fully appreciate.

Intriguing. To think people actually resolved matters in this manner. How different would this be than against the Sith, she wondered?

Tatiana hoped they would end this conflict swiftly by complying. It was the logical course of action barring information withheld by one or both parties. On the other hand, if they refused, she would come away from this experience with a wealth of information. Such as how effective her capabilities were against armed forces of this galaxy.

Rackham | Barragh Nenn

Loken | Gavin Restur | Ronhar Tane | The Lord of Hunger | Mika Tai En | Cynan Obaith | Calissova | Searal Nis | Adelle Bastiel

 

[Rackham]

A G G R E S S I V E_N E G O T I A T I O N S

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
LOLA SAYU, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

Inside Citadel Command, Director Rackham's eyes remained fixated on the live holographic display feed that showed the progress of the battle as the High Republic continued to engage the Imperial Garrison supported by what appeared to be Mandalorian reinforcements. With the Mandalorians involved Rackham knew that the Citadel's garrison was at an immediate disadvantage as they hadn't been expecting a Mandalorian attack. Nevertheless what mattered more was keeping Obaith out of the hands of the High Republic and their Mandalorian allies, and fortunately Rackham had some of the best soldiers within the Confederation on the job right now.

Soon enough the doors leading into the command center opened as the Imperial Hand Barragh Nenn entered the room and inquired whether the Dirrector was having problems and and if he had enough men to repel the incursion. "Our garrison was configured in a manner to repel a High Republic operation." he began. "But the addition presence of the Mandalorians complicate things. With them added into the equations our defenses will struggle to hold the line" he added. It was a simple analysis really, but as long as the Mandalorians remained in the equation the chances of a decisive victory would remain low.

Then suddenly the all communications went dark as a single transmission was beamed into Citadel Command for the Director, the Imperial Hand and every other officer and security guardsmen to hear.

"Director. This is an excessive loss of resources incurred over an Ambassador that has committed no crime against your people. I recommend you release the prisoner -- then the search and rescue operation would be terminated before further loss occurs. You should be aware off-world transmissions will be blocked during the course of retrieval. Please arrange for the immediate release of Ambassador Obaith into our custody."

As soon as the transmission terminated everything returned to normal.

"The sheer arrogance and audacity of these people." Rackham muttered. He understood why Sularen had opted to arrest Obaith and dragged him to Lola Sayu even though at first he viewed it as an extremely risky and impulsive move from the Imperial Supreme Commander. They were arrogant, cocky and overconfident. Spoke as if the outcome was guaranteed in their favor, as if they were incapable of being wrong. Not even the Galactic Alliance was this bad. Barring those thoughts aside, the Director then proceeded to look up at the Umbaran and proceeded to ask him a simple question.

"You think you can handle those Mandalorians, Imperial Hand?" A rhetorical question, but one that made the Imperial Hand understand what the ISS Director already wanted.

Tags [Friendlies] | Barragh Nenn | The Lord of Hunger | OPEN
Tags [Hostiles] | Tatiana Sah



​

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
LOYA SAYU
[REDACTED]

What the HELL was going on in this galaxy forsaken prison?!?!

As Ronhar and his squad waited outside of the Night Reaver for transfer of custody of Cynan Obaith , their helmet comms began blowing up with numerous reports of violence and rebellion. Details were a bit murky at the moment, but apparently, there was some kind of riot occurring within the prison, and multiple explosions could be heard throughout the prison without any need for communication equipment. How was this possible? How could a supposedly maximum security Imperial prison be under such intense internal pressure, especially considering the fact that numerous squads of Imperial soldiers must have been sent to the facility as additional security? Was the fact that an active prison riot was occurring simply an unfortunate coincidence, or were there darker forces at play? Considering the fact that the Republic was desperate to get their man back, it wouldn't have surprised Ronhar if they had orchestrated this whole thing.

Whatever was happening, it was clear to Ronhar that he was going to have to go inside himself with his squad and extract Cynan Obaith , as he was unwilling to leave anything to chance, regardless of how capable Joseph Torson was. Ronhar turned to the Imperial operative, addressing Amni Kazda directly:

"Change of plans. This installation has been compromised, and we're going to have to grab Obaith ourselves. You coming with?"

Without waiting for a response, Ronhar then sent a message directly to the bridge of the MIN Fool's Errand, directly requesting reinforcements to help contain the outbreak of the apparent prison riot. In response, a pair of "Stork" Dropships were dispatched to the planet, one containing dozens of rarely seen Mahporeenian Prison Troopers and the other containing four All Terrain Armored Assault Walkers. Hopefully, they would be more than enough to suppress the rioting going on, the Prison Troopers being able to properly enter the facility and the walkers remaining outside to take down any escapees or stranglers. If not, well...Ronhar didn't want to think of the alternative.

"Alright, Reclaimer, let's move!"

Ronhar and his squad raced toward the interior of the prison complex as the Night Reaver once again took to the skies, trying to shed some light on their current predicament...
​

---

---

---

​

Spoiler: Ronhar's Equipment

• Wampa-Pattern Industrial Exoskeleton
• Mk 45 Protective Vest
• Mahporeem Acid Rifle
• Model 216 "Big Game Hunter"
• BG-D 6 "Outlaw"
• Rhydonium Grenades
• ABC Scramblers
• Burnblade
• HNDA-Mk I
• Carapace Knitters
• ABC - Aerosolized Bacta Cannisters
• 5 ARC Troopers
• 2 Storm Commandos
• MIN Night Reaver

Spoiler: OOC note

Hello Mando and Republic friends! If you feel like I've brought to much, feel free to send me a (potentially angry) DM or message on Discord!

Spoiler: TAGS

Joseph Torson
Amni Kazda
Barragh Nenn
Ze'bast Verd
Garo Vevut-Varkor
Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata
John Shepherd
Aselia Verd
Korda Veydran
Itzhal Volkihar
Gavin Restur
Loken
Janous Ryss
@All Other Mando and Republic Forces
OPEN

 

[Barragh Nenn]

The transmission that came over the comms inside Citadel Command gained the Umbaran's attention. He said nothing to but listened attentively. When the voice cut his eyes veered back towards the Director.

He didn't tell the Director that he didn't disagree entirely with the voice. This would be an excessive loss of resources---but for both sides. Diplomatic channels may have been a more preferential avenue but the Hand knew that those were rarely successful with opposing factions.

Tilting his head he'd have regarded Rackham before replying to his rhetorical question...

"Perhaps, Director."

...he might handle one or several of them at least but not necessarily with the brute force inherent to combat, there were more subtle and artful methods that might be used.

Nodding once Barragh turned, moving away from the Director. The Sovereign Protectors assigned to him moved to flank.

In a moment the Umbaran was gone, moving through the entry way to Citadel Command after a cursory glance towards several of the view screens that captured the High Republic and Mandalorian assault.

-

The Citadel was easy to traverse, the Mandalorians easy to locate. Subtlety was not their forte, one need only follow the explosions and blasterfire.

Klaxons were sounding. No one in the Citadel would be unaware they were under attack.

Squads of troopers were rushing to their positions. Barragh navigated around them alongside his escort. That last look at the screens in Citadel Command telling him exactly where he needed to be.

Eventually he would arrive at a corridor that served as a junction leading to various wings in the Citadel; armories, cell blocks, etc. He would interpose himself in the center of the corridor, concealed beneath his Shadowcloak save for his features which rose out of it. The Sovereign Protectors behind him readied their Force Pikes.

He waited. Waited for a Mandalorian to arrive.

Tags: Rackham Tatiana Sah @Mandos

​

 

[Korda Veydran]

The first explosion had been deliberate.
The second was art.
Korda stood in the corridor outside the cell block console as alarms began to scream through the prison's internal systems. Red strobes flashed across heavy durasteel doors. Somewhere deeper in the complex, a voice crackled over open security channels:


"We're under attack!"
His helmet filtered it automatically, layering the transmission beneath the thrash metal still rattling his internal speakers. He laughed softly.
"Yes," he murmured. "You are."
The final cell door hissed open.


Inside, a prisoner blinked against the flashing lights, disoriented. Bruised. Shackled. Forgotten.
Korda stepped forward and crushed the binding cuffs with a twist of his gauntlet.
"Up," he ordered.


The man hesitated only a second before taking Korda's offered forearm. The Mandalorian hauled him to his feet like he weighed nothing. From a fallen guard nearby, Korda retrieved a compact blaster rifle and pressed it into the prisoner's hands.


"Shoot anyone not wearing chains," he instructed calmly.
Another cell opened. Then another.


He moved methodically, unlocking, arming, shoving weapons into trembling hands. Riot control batons. Blasters stripped from corpses. Even a thermal charge pressed into the hands of someone who looked particularly eager.


The corridor beyond began to flood with noise. shouting guards, boots slamming against deck plating, stun rounds cracking through the air.
The riot was waking up.
A trio of armored prison guards rounded the corner, riot shields up, shock batons crackling.
Korda turned slowly to face them.


Behind him, newly freed inmates scrambled for cover, some firing wildly, others too stunned to move.
The lead guard barked an order.
Korda tilted his helmet slightly, Ashen Maw lowering into his grip with a smooth mechanical click as it synced to his biometrics.
"Shields?" he asked, amused. "Adorable."


The first burst shattered the riot shield's viewport. The second punched through armor. The third guard lunged forward in desperation and Korda met him head-on, slamming into him with enough force to fold him backward over his own shield.


Beskar crushed plastoid.
Korda drove a heavy fist into the man's helmet. the helmet gave way, The guard crumpled.


He turned just as another tried to retreat.
"Run," Korda encouraged mockingly. "It makes it more interesting."
The guard stumbled backward
And froze.


From Korda's utility pouch, a small, furred serpentine head had slowly emerged. Oro's blunt snout twitched, tongue flicking curiously into the air, wide eyes fixed directly on the panicking guard.
The man stared.
Oro chirped.


The guard yelped, actually yelped, spun to flee, and promptly ran full-speed into a low-hanging pipe.
The clang echoed loudly through the corridor.
He dropped unconscious in a heap.
Korda stared at the scene for a long moment.


Then he barked out a laugh, loud, unrestrained.
"Fear the beast," he said dryly.
Oro wriggled a little further out of the pouch, proud of herself.
Korda opened the pouch wider with two fingers. "Back inside."


She hesitated.
Tongue out.
Watching the chaos.


"Now."
Reluctantly, she slithered halfway back in, though her head remained poking out, eyes bright and alert.
Satisfied enough, Korda turned back to the riot.


Inmates were flooding the corridor now. Guards were falling back. The prison's careful order was dissolving into beautiful, sacred chaos.
Another explosion shook the wing, not his this time.
Good.


He grabbed one of the freed prisoners by the shoulder and shoved him toward the main hall.
"Spread it," he ordered. "Every block. Every door."
The man ran.


Korda stood in the flashing red light, Ashen Maw smoking faintly, alarms screaming overhead, freed prisoners firing down corridors.
Through the overlapping channels, he could hear command staff panicking, security coordinating, someone demanding status reports from the marginal wings.


He rolled his shoulders once, ribs aching faintly beneath the armor.
Good.


Let them scramble.
Let them fear the collapse of their perfect cage.
"This is what happens," he muttered to no one in particular, "when you forget that fire spreads."
Then he advanced toward the next junction, toward the deeper wings.


Toward wherever the real resistance would form.
And somewhere else in the citadel, a young warrior named Searal felt dread blooming in her gut.
Korda only smiled beneath his helmet.
The riot had only just begun.

Tag: Searal Nis

 

[Amni Kazda]

Current Outfit
Kitty

The Night Reaver approached the orbit of Lola Sayu. Amni snorted at the name it sounded so odd and the surface didn't look much better. It reminded her of a purple ball she used to play with when she was a kid. Leaning against the wall, Amni shut her eyes trying to remember. She was just a little girl around 8 years old laughing while the breeze brushed against her hair. She continued to bounce that purple ball as she began singing about having sunflowers in her hair. Amni could hear more children talking to her, but the words she heard were garbled as if they had something stuck in their mouths.

And the children weren't children but dark wraiths swimming around her. Amni's hands curled into fists, her sweat started to form on her brow. Even though these children were blurred out from memory she could still recognize them! They look so familiar..... why can't she remember? Amni gave deep sigh opening her eyes slowly darting at the Imperials around her. She remained in the corner as Ronhar Tane made the final landing. They were supposed to do a smash and grab of some politician. Might as well stay focused but that memory was one of many that lurked inside Amni's mind as if it wanted to be remembered.

The sad part was Amni wished to forget. Not knowing was aggravating and maybe it was a mercy if she just let that memory fade into history. She was a weapon of war now. Repurposed to serve the Empire.

At least that's what she was telling herself.

Joseph Torson

 

[Searal Nis]

She raced down the halls where the fighting was thickest. One of the prisoner wings had been compromised, men and women wrapped with chains fought awkwardly but viciously against the prison guards, some armed with little more than stun batons, while others had taken positions on the platform directly above, raining down death from metal rails with blaster fire. Searal took a sharp breath, even as the corridors clogged with dust and gunpowder, burning the back of her throat. But she centered herself. None of that mattered, not the shrieking, bleeding flashing strobes of light that spun dizzily, not the screaming security guards and inmates, clawing at each other as if the prison had degenerated into a prehistoric battlefield, not her own fear that was festering within her, none of that mattered.



She slipped her lightsaber from off her utility belt and ignited it. A pillar of sterile white erupted from the hilt as she began to push her way through. The small compact cells had made her forget just how many prisoners were crammed into this labyrinth as a tidal wave of despair, anger and desperation smashed against the remaining security guards who could barely keep them at bay. Searal surged forward, her lightsaber wrapped around with two tight hands in the form of Djem So, The Perseverance Form. She hewed her way through the crowd. Dismembering limbs, deflecting clumsy blasterbolts, fighting her way through, puncturing past the horde of inmates and allowing the guards to gradually recover lost ground.. She focused on her training and let everything else drain out. Never mind the revolting smell of charred skin and burnt flesh as her blade seared through flesh, nevermind the blood-curdling screams of the wounded and dying, never mind the suffocating smell of soot and sulfur.



However, as she fought her way through the mob, she finally found one of the culprits of the attack. A man, covered from head to toe in scarred brass beskar, each mark on his armour must have been a tally of a battle. He wielded a ridiculous slugthrower that thundered out shots, as she saw him blow a man near to pieces. He even found the time to torment a guard with whatever pet snake he had. War to this man was not a means to an end; it was intoxicating to him. She could taste the acidic fear in the back of her throat. This was her first battle, her first real battle, and now she was fighting a man who must have fought in dozens. But he was still just a man, Searal told herself. She had her training, and she had the force.

The man was a brute, and he was likely far stronger than she, but even a brawl would be preferable to having to dodge or deflect those over-sized slugs his rifle was spitting out. She needed to close the distance and cleave through the firearm, in hopes of destroying it. But closing the distance between them would be difficult, especially with the fighting all around them. She knew what she had to do, reaching out with her hand, she unleashed a force push that rippled down the prisoner wing, sending lesser men sprawling across the floor and staggering others. Then, before anyone had the chance to recover, she charged the Mandalorian down, her lightsaber primed to slice through his rifle, praying her gamble would pay off.


Korda Veydran [OPEN]

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: The Citadel, Warden's office
OBJECTIVE: Take down all who come to close...
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: Ronhar Tane | Ze'bast Verd | Garo Vevut-Varkor | Aselia Verd | John Shepherd | Korda Veydran | Verity Stuyveris | Calissova | Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata | Itzhal Volkihar | Dominique Vexx | Gavin Restur | Loken | Janous Ryss | Rackham | Barragh Nenn | Searal Nis | Tatiana Sah

//: Files compiled
//: Only one High Value target - Cynan Obaith
//: Log In status - Supreme Commander Marlon Sularen
//: transferring log to Dealmaker - Warden Secundus

"So this entire fiasco is because of one person brought in here by the Lord commander," The Dealmaker let out a strange combination of a deep sigh and a twisted, hollow sounding chuckle. His eyes ran through the lines on the screen, pausing on the picture of the arrested and incarcerated Corellian Senator. With his gloved fingers slowly reaching for the side of his mask, the Dealmaker's golden and crimson eyes seemed to narrow. "Kark, if nothing's done to stop Sularen's madness, he'll drag the entire confederation down with him."
​

"This is an excessive loss of resources incurred over an Ambassador that has committed no crime against your people. I recommend you release the prisoner -- then the search and rescue operation would be terminated before further loss occurs."

"So someone is at the very least showing some mental capacity beyond that of a child," The Dealmaker leaned back in his chair and looked over the incoming reports, confirming that indeed this was a waste of resources. There had been severe breaches in two sectors of the Citadel, with many of the security personel being sent not just to repel this unexpected break in, but also to maintain order in the blocks where some, if not all of the prisoners had managed to escape. Surely, with communications being cut-off and jammed within the Citadel bar the facility's own systems, their actions most likely would be as uncordinated as a sith warband. "KRONOS, force the security meassures on the breached sectors, raise the shields, activate the safety sealing procedures. I want blastdoors cutting off those sections...and send in the KXU droids to assist the security personel. I will handle this... situation myself."

//: Command acknowledged
//: activating sealing meassures - activating shields on sector B through D
//: activating incapacitation meassures against convicts outside designated zones
//: Activating KXU droid detachments in sectors A through E - Targeting trespassing individuals
//: Activating isolation protocol - Communication systems outside of internally sanctioned systems will be jammed and disrupted
​

"Perfect, keep up the work KRONOS," Reaching for the desk, the masked man pressed a button, which allowed a small cylindrical recepticle to slide out of the desk, from which the masked man managed to take a pair of NZ BP/KS-30 blaster pistols. Letting out another sigh, the man walked over towards the exit of the office in which he had been directing the security protocols of the penal facility. looking back for a moment, the man passed through the sliding door, pacing briskly through the connecting corridor, hearing the klaxons go wild, like some hellish cacophony. "KRONOS, what floor is the high value prisoner secured?"

//: Files indicate Floor 18 - Sector C
​

All things considered, that wasn't bad, just a quick trip with the lifts would be enough. The emergency elevators wouldn't be cut off just yet anyway, though time was of the essence. With that in mind, the Dealmaker pressed the buttons next to a pair of red, metallic sliding doors, waiting calmly until they opened in order to reveal the industrial elevators used by the Imperial Confederation for emergency escapes. His hand hovered over the buttons, pressing the ones he needed to press to get where he needed to be.

"All security personel, do not let anyone who has managed to enter this place escape...not a single person will leave here without my say so," He knew he couldn't fully override the Supreme Commander's security clearances, but that was where KRONOS would be the key to revoke the clearance anyway. The Imperial Confederacy would not become the plaything of one man's ambition and impulsiveness. There was a difference between controlled chaos and utter anarchy. The former could be useful, the latter was a position he did not desire to be associated with. "Kark, can't these elevators go faster?"

​

 

[Joseph Torson]

A G G R E S S I V E_N E G O T I A T I O N S

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
LOLA SAYU, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

Spoiler: Gear

• Pseudosonic Beam Rifle [1]
• AAF-8 Scattergun [1]
• Tetron SD-11 Variable Detonators [5]
• Rhydonium Grenades [3]
• Zsinj-pattern Commando Armor Mark I [w/ Supplicant-Series Service Droid]

Spoiler: Aurek Squad

• Red Right Hand Operators [12/12]
• Confederate Guardsmen [32/32]

As Torson and his men dragged the Corellian Ambassador, a feminine voice suddenly called from behind the group of gathered soldiers which instinctively caused the Red Right Men and the accompanying Guardsmen to raise their weapons only for the individual to reveal that they were on their side as an ISS Asset at which point they lowered their weapons. After announcing herself, SV-42 walked up towards Torson and inquired on whether the Ambassador still had any weapons or contraband on him. "With the way he's been acting, he would have attempted an escape by now if he had anything on him." Torson responded.

Then after offering his response SV-42 followed up with another question, asking Torson where she could fit in his formation. "Anywhere that is close to the Ambassador." he simply responded. "Getting him out of this prison is our highest priority." he added. He then looked down towards the ISS Asset and then proceeded to ask a question of his own. "You have a name? One that would be better suited for identification in the heat of battle." he said. He needed something simple and recognizable that he could remember her by as a set of letters and numbers wouldn't be enough. It was ironic though, in a government that often reduced it's soldiers to serial numbers, nicknames were how they best identified each other throughout their operations.

As Torson and SV-42 conversed, Obaith soon began running his mouth at which point SV-42 quickly corrected him with a punch to his jaw aiming to break it. Had it been Torson he would have simply opted to knock him out completely. An unconscious Corellian was after all better then one with just a broken jaw. "Hopefully that keeps you silent." he retorted. "But just in case, gag him." Torson instructed at which point one of the Red Right Hand operators shoved a large piece of cloth into Obaith mouth to ensure that he couldn't annoy them further with his bullshit.

"Alright let's move out. We have an Ambassador to evacuate and were running out of time." Torson stated as he began to walk back towards the elevators with the rest of the Red Right Hand, SV-42 and the Guardsmen following suit, dragging Obaith along. As they reached the elevators, the Guardsmen went up first in three groups of five to make sure that the level containing the hangar was clear before rest could follow. As Torson and his men waited for confirmation that they were in the clear, he was contacted by his fellow SpecOps operative Ronhar Tane via the comms.

"This Captain Ronhar Tane, TK-3301, of the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant. My ship has landed inside the prison complex. Let's get this sleazebaggo transferred aboard as soon as possible, I want to be off this planet and back in transmit to Mahporeem within the next hour."

"Copy that Captain Tane. We're on our way to the hangar now, please stand by" Torson replied through the comms. It was at that point that the first group of fifteen Guardsmen including Sentry, made it to the designated level walking out of the hallway and positioning themselves as they kept an eye out across the T-shaped hallway junction. "Captain Torson. You have the clear to begin your ascent." he said. "Roger that, Lieutenant."

Now all Torson, his squad and Sv-42 had to do was wait for the elevators to come back down so that they could begin the process of transporting the prisoner towards Tane's ship where he would be relocated to a world the High Republic could never breach.

Tags [Friendlies] | Calissova | Ronhar Tane | Amni Kazda
Tags [Hostiles] | Cynan Obaith ​

 

[Tatiana Sah]

No response.

Had they not received her message?

It would seem, then, Tatiana would need to personally ensure their Director got her message.

There were several methods to take for entry. It was a high-security facility, however, so many methods would drain her resources before any real conflict occurred. That's when sensors registered activity in the area. An increase of comm traffic. It would take time to break their encryption, however, so for the moment its content remain elusive. Nevertheless, it was a signal.

A silver object began to fall out of the sky. It was small, roughly six feet in length and two point five feet wide. Mass was heavy. Not an armored humanoid unless it was a fanatical Mandalorian that enjoyed bulky, armored suits. Sensors had a little difficulty locking on at first, but a lock was had in short order.

It wasn't until the first few defense shots -- in case it wasn't debris -- that the unidentified falling object was classified manned or an otherwise 'smart' hostile weapon.

The closer it got, the more turrets turned in its direction while it made only slight changes in trajectory to avoid impact. Flak cannons or burst charges seemed to have the most effect. Its momentum, at least, showed signs of arrest and its profile changed into a more condensed configuration for a few seconds as it darted out of the cloud of fire.

Despite the rapid descent, however, there was neither a loud bang nor a cloud of smoke from its arrival. The object simply plunged into the recently vacated landing area and... stopped.

Tatiana hovered a foot off the ground as the interior of the hanger was mapped.

Supplementary, hostile counter-insurgency strike force has entered facility.

Dropships have left Enemy vessel. Attempting intercept, was the response Tatiana received from orbital forces.

There was far greater comm traffic than the assault alone seemed to account for. Multiple pockets of broadcasts suggested something else might be drawing resources. She did not believe this new team was there merely for that, however. It was a relatively small unit, not a company's worth that might be needed to seize control of such a place.

As silently as she'd arrived, the woman of polished silver followed in the direction Ronhar Tane 's squad had gone.

Rackham | Barragh Nenn | Ronhar Tane | Amni Kazda
Cynan Obaith | Joseph Torson | Calissova | The Lord of Hunger

 

[Aiden Porte]

@Open​

His squad moved with him through the broken gullies, white armored troopers crouched low behind black rock, rifles held in disciplined lines. The wind carried grit and the faint metallic scent of old fires.

"Remember," Aiden said quietly over the comm, voice steady. "We are the noise."

A chorus of acknowledgments clicked back.

He reached out with the Force, feeling the rhythm of guard rotations, the hum of generators, the nervous flare of sentries who had not yet realized they were about to have a very bad hour.

Aiden raised two fingers.

The troopers shifted. A heavy weapon team set up behind a fallen column. Another pair angled toward a comms relay perched on a spur of rock. He waited until the patrol line intersected the corridor of open ground.

"Now," he said.

A stun charge arced first, thrown high, and burst in a bright crackle that turned the nearest guards into stumbling silhouettes. Blasterfire followed in clean, controlled bursts. Not wild. Not wasteful. Enough to be unmistakable.

Aiden stepped out from cover, cloak snapping once in the wind. He extended his hand and the Force shoved a barricade sideways, turning it into a rolling slab that scattered the enemy line and exposed their flank. Blue bolts snapped past him and he did not flinch.

"Pin them," he ordered. "Make them call for reinforcements."

 

[Mao]

John Shepherd Loken Aiden Porte Gavin Restur Cyran Vaas Adelle Bastiel Mia Monroe Itzhal Volkihar Ze'bast Verd

Calissova Joseph Torson Barragh Nenn

Impact slammed up through Mao's boots and into her spine. The dropship shrieked against stone, dust swallowing the viewport in a choking cloud. She was already moving before the ramp finished lowering.

The Mandalorians were already serving their distraction to the imperials.

Good. Let them look that way.

"Move," Mao ordered, already descending along with Shepherd down the ramp as the other team ahead of them was already in deep trying to reach the Ambassafor first.

Blasterfire cut across the corridors as Mao sent her own volley down range, watching as two two silhouettes crumple behind crates.

She advanced low, counting intervals between detonations, mapping the compound in her visor as data streamed across provided by Loken. It was t long before two guards pivoted toward her.

But they were too slow. Two more shots rang out before she came to a stop in front of a blast door.

She pressed a breaching charge against the seam and stepped back, feeling rather than hearing her unit stack behind her.

She triggered the charge.

The door folded inward in smoke and screaming metal.

Mao moved through the breach first.

The corridor beyond was narrow, industrial, poorly lit and she was sure she'd meet resistance soon.

"Advance," she commanded through her modulator of her helm as the first hostile rounded the far corner.

She fired, shifted, pushed forward.

Regardless, distraction was working, splitting the imperials enemy's attention, which meant they had a window.

And Mao intended to use every second of it to reach the Corellian Ambassador.

 

[Cynan Obaith]

Objective: Survive till rescue arrives
Outfit: Shackled prisoner
Tag: Loken | Joseph Torson | Calissova | Ronhar Tane

When the short soldier approached Cynan, the boxing skills that he had honed for years never dulled. Did not matter how tired or how much pain he had, knowing and seeing the attack coming, Cynan moved backwards and avoided getting his jaw shattered. "Glad to know the imperials still wish to silence the truth. Means I am hitting too close to home." Cynan spoke with a dry sarcasm. Giving a wink to Calissova, "I do wish to maintain my dashing jawline. So please try not to shatter it in the future."

After that exchange, the other soldier ordered that Cynan be gagged. Cynan rolled his eyes at the notion. They were very desperate, it was clear that they did not like the words he was saying. But he was going to be a free man speaking and making the changes in the galaxy with his words before this is all over. He held trust in the High Republic that they would succeed and demonstrate once again that no matter what crimes the imperials attempted to conduct, they would not cause lasting harm to the galaxy. That people were far more resilient than they were given credit for.

"Silencing the voice of reason is all imperial hounds know to do." Cynan stated firmly before the cloth was shoved in his mouth to silence him.

Cynan was dragged but he purposefully made himself heavy, awkward to drag around. There was no easy way of getting Cynan around and he was going to delay their efforts as much as he could. The man looked around to see if he could spot any Republic soldiers that were heading his way. Cynan was never going to remain in the imperial clutches today.

One thing the gag did provide help with was acting as a muffler for when he decided the right time to dislocate his thumb would be. Cynan knew that slide one hand out of the cuffs and make things even more difficult. He was not sure that without the gag that his attempts would be as subtle as he would like them to be. Luckily, they decided to gag him so he was going to take the time get out of the cuffs. Potentially make his escape while they try trapping him in the elevator with them. Dip just before the doors closed.

That could get him away from the guards and at least get a run around searching for the rescue teams. Cynan did not wish to be inactive in the rescue attempts for himself. He would do whatever he could to make it as easy for the High Republic as he could. That meant for now, he was focusing on ensuring he had the correct angle to dislocate his thumb.

 

[Seldan Rourke]

​

Seldan moved through the smoke with his squad tight behind him. The Citadel felt like it was choking on its own alarms. Good. He caught sight of Gavin Restur ahead, carving a path through defenders with that reckless efficiency Seldan had already decided he respected. Rocket boots. Explosions. Subtle as a brick through a window.

Seldan keyed his comm. "Gavin. Hangars are priority. We own their exits." His voice was steady, flat. "You able to assist my squad pushing north corridor?"

He didn't wait for an answer before dropping to a knee and firing a tight burst down the corridor. An Imperial trooper folded. Another ducked behind a shattered console. He advanced.

Two of his soldiers stacked on a blast door, one slapping a charge in place. Seldan covered the flank, eyes scanning corners, ceiling, movement. Always movement. A shape twitched behind a pillar. He put a round through it before it could stand.

Too many entry points. Too many unknowns. Aurelian wants the Ambassador breathing. That means move fast and break everything else.

The charge blew. The door buckled inward. Seldan stepped through first. A narrow transit hall opened toward the hangar access shafts. Wider sightlines. Worse angles. He signaled his squad to stagger formation. One trooper took a bolt to the thigh and dropped with a curse.

Seldan dragged him back by the collar without looking. "Seal it and stay on comms." The trooper nodded, jaw tight.

Heavy footfalls echoed ahead. Imperial armor rounded the corner in disciplined formation. At their front, Ronhar Tane . Command presence.

Seldan recognized this one. This one matters. He stepped into partial cover, rifle braced against the edge of a fractured bulkhead. His squad mirrored him. The Imperial commander's voice cut through the corridor, sharp and controlled. Orders. Efficient. No panic.

Seldan exhaled slowly. "Contact front," he said into his comm. "Officer leading."

His eyes locked on the man across the corridor.