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Dominion Beyond Thunderdome (OPA Dominion of Dasoor)

Cei Kyros

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SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING
  • Dasoor's gangs aren't friendly but the DARK STAR HELLIONS swoop bikers are friendlier than most. They won't shoot OPA in their ARENA on sight at least.
  • Bloodsport is a popular activity, the Dasoor SHOCKBOXING variant attaches both fighters to a LASER TETHER to make things more interesting. Amateurs and spectators are welcome.
  • At some point the arena will be attacked in force by the GUAVIAN DEATH GANG, main rivals of the HELLIONS.


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SCENARIO 2: FINDERS KEEPERS
  • Every once in a while a passing SUPPLY CONVOY is ransacked by pirates or other local dangers. Plenty of opportunities for an enterprising SALVAGER to strip what's been left behind. An old drifting CORUSCANT HEAVY COURIER in particular looks like it might offer some promising collector's items.
  • The bulk transport is not as ABANDONED as it appears. Something is already on board. Something that is hungry for BLOOD.
  • There is an ARTIFACT on the ship guarded by MONSTERS. It is attuned to the DARKSIDE of the Force.


SCENARIO 3: WE'LL BUILD OUR OWN OBJECTIVE WITH SABACC AND HOOKERS
 
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Objective 2: Finders keepers
Allies: OPA

For months after Aaris III, Therapy Command was routinely used to engage CNO naval elements whenever feasible. Now that reports of a supply convoy forming up arrived to Cathul, slated to pass through Dasoor, it was time for her to deploy the escorts for that convoy to see it safely arrive to its destination. With some medvac shuttles ready for good measure, because it may well be that an attack could come and cause some damage that require medical attention. Now, Cathul was not interested in the salvage, but other OPA participants are salvagers, and also needed some protection while the salvage operation went underway. It was not an operation where large units were required, just maybe a few frigates or corvettes, and not much else beyond medvac. Of course, for now, the fighters would not be deployed, but fighters should still be armed to a combat readiness state prior to takeoff. For now, however, the detachment was just there on standby.
 
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SCENARIO 2: FINDERS KEEPERS

Aboard: The Lacuna Gaucho
Action: Salvaging the Pulse-wave Cannon and shield generators from the heavy courier

When talk of salvage had come over the squack box Mako had been all ears. Now joined by others from the OPA the Judges had begun salvage operations to clear up space debit and open this space lane to commerce. His two Thrifters were already at work, their drones slicing the choicest components away before the tugs arrived to haul the hull of this ship away.

"OK boys make it quick, once we strip these exterior components we will need to get inside and take a look at that AlderaanMotors power generator, the thing is a relic but if it works they say they were some of the best of their day."

Once they were finished with the exterior work Mako would signal he was going in, he wanted to make sure everyone else knew he would be going in to prevent surprises and the like.
 
Born standin' up and takin' back.
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SCENARIO 3: WE'LL BUILD OUR OWN OBJECTIVE: THE GUNS OF EMERALD VALE
The YV-666, Rusty Bucket landed heavy on the dusty surface of Dasoor. The dust kicked up from the engines had coated the cockpit window making it difficult for Eldin to judge the landing, even with instruments. The Bucket had been through worse that a hard landing with his recent trip through the Kessel Run and picked up that Vyri woman. The sudden thought of her made him grin just a little. There was a corral of ships alongside, all manner of Uglies and some looked like they had not see a repair yard in a long time. Eldin looked around as he pulled the swoop bike down the loading ramp before locking the Bucket. It was not really clear to him, but something tingled in the back of his mind to come this way, to this particular town on the outer fringes of Dasoor. He had had every intention of entering the Shockboxing comp and although he is a good fighter, lawdy knows he had done enough of that on Tatoonie in his youth, the pull to come all the way out here was greater.

At a clipping pace, the swoop darted over the dusty plains, ahead he would see the town, Emerald Vale. From first glance, it looked deserted, but the gently waft of smoke from some of the ramstackled buildings told him otherwise. The yellow haze in the air, heralded the fall of evening, the sun dipping closer to the far horizon and soon night would come. He slowed down as he rode along the main street passed some houses before the row of shops came into view. Mos Eisley was thriving compared to this place, only a handful of people were present and they just seemed to be watching the world pass them by. However, as soon as they sighed Eldin, their piercing eyes paid attention to the stranger in town. Suspicion in their eyes, that was for sure.

A couple of men standing by the general store, whispered to each other as he passed them, one of the disappearing down an alley way, soon after. Eldin pulled up outside the cantina, The Yard Arm. He secured his bike to a railing and dismounted, pulled off his gloves and made his way inside. The room went silent, everyone turned to look at him up and down, furtive looks passed between couples before they all went back to their business.
 

Grok

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SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

Grok could smell the roasting flesh of his latest 'challenger' and licked his lips. He kept pummeling the zabrak until several of the Dark Star Hellions were forced to climb down into the arena and haul him off. He struggled violently until it dawned on him that the fighting was over. The gamorrean tusker stared down at his dead opponent. He and Darth Wyrm Darth Wyrm had another 'fight' and places like this he could find a little peace and reflection.

Snorting in disgust at such a paltry gladiator. The swoop bikers were upset with him for killing another one but he simply oinked them away and retired to the cantina booth for a stiff drink and a tusk sharpening. Two more boxers were brought out but he hardly paid the beginning of their match any mind. For a tusker like Grok it wasn't bloodsport until there was a healthy amount of blood spilled.

He glowered out a space for himself at the bar. Apparently he was something of a legend in this place.
 
Violence is my gift to the world.
Scenario 1
Wren Rolls his shoulders as the hellions tether him to his opponent. 12 days spent sleeping in the cargo hold of a tiny merchant ship with almost no food, getting tossed around like a rag doll every time the ship had to dodge an asteroid, and spending his days working for his oh so luxurious passage by tossing around whatever massive crates they wanted moved. But now, it was all going to be worth it. It wasn't ranked, it wasn't going to advance his career, but this kind of thing was exactly the rush he needed. As his barabel opponent meets his eye, Wren gives him a toothy grin and readies his stance, taking note of the barabel's own rather carefree and sloppy foot placement. oh, this was going to be fun.

As soon as the bell sounds, Wren charges in with blazing speed, taking the barabel by surprise, and a vicious left hook snaps the reptilian's head back. He quickly avoids the retaliatory jab with a quick pivot inside and throws two vicious hooks to the body, smelling the char on his opponent's flesh as the blows connect. The Barabel reels but retaliates, slamming a punch home into Wren's gut with a sizzle. Wren grunts, and then grins at the barabel still hunched over. Grabbing the laser tether with the shock glove for protection, he yanks the barabel forward into a massive headbutt that cracks teeth and breaks bone, followed by a truly monstrous and extremely accurate right uppercut thrown with perfect form that sends Wren's opponent crashing to the ground unconscious. As the mixed boos and cheers rain down, Wren grins up at the sky, and decides to play to the crowd.

"That all you got you morons???Not my fault you bet on the loser, losers!!! come on, gimme someone real or I aint comin back!"

there, he thought, that should get them fired up enough to wanna see me fight again. with that taken care of and the tether removed, he goes to sit at the bar.
 
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Cei Kyros

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SCENARIO 2: FINDERS KEEPERS


"We gotta stop meeting like this."

When Maokai Bantam Maokai Bantam finally cut his way inside the derelict transport the Judge found it was not so abandoned after all. Instead there was a duros in a spacesuit waiting for him, both hands raised in a display a mock surrender. Kyros recognized Bantam from Binaros. It was a small galaxy after all. This encounter probably came as a surprise to both of them.

"Didn't mean to spook ya," the smuggler waggled his fingers, "When your team showed up on sensors we thought you might be pirates. My ship bugged out until the coast is clear."

He played it off like it was his idea but the truth was his crew panicked. Those stranded on the wreck along with him had managed to get themselves lost almost immediately. Now here Cei was, he didn't fancy his chances at hiding once the zeltron's crew started stripping this place apart. He didn't much like losing out on credits either.

"Looks like we've got a competing claim," he sized Bantam up, "I'm a fair guy. You didn't know we was here. How about a fifty fifty split?"
 
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SCENARIO 2: FINDERS KEEPERS​

Aboard: The Lacuna Gaucho
Action: Hanging out with Cei Kyros

"Well didn't know I was jumping a claim," Mako said grinning under his vacuum suit mask.

He was surprised his sensors didn't pick up any lifeforms but given they were twenty-year-old civilian models he was not that surprised. As he looked around he was getting a weird feeling one he couldn't quite place.

"Nah your right fifty, fifty seems about right. All ready snagged the pulse-wave cannon and a few shield modules, you call dibs on anything cool yet?"

Mako was a lawman but he surprisingly didn't throw it around too much, instead, he was happy to get what he could and share when needed. As he waited for Cei's reply he continued to get that wield feeling. It felt old and well like he had eyes on him.
 
Heavy riffs and a mugful of caf, and we're good.
SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

Dasoor.

The Mid Rim.

A little bit closer to the Core Worlds, but far from the high-tech and mostly civilised living that reign worlds like Coruscant and Corellia. A world in desperate need of lawbringers, of Judges.

From her position back leant to the wall by one of the exits up on the gallery, arms folded across the chest, Chris observed the gamorreans onslaught upon the zabrak through the optics of the mask. Not with the mildest amuse. Behind the mask, her face was as deadpan as the mask itself but inside she was disgusted of this... entrertainment, or whatever the hell it was. It was a different setting than the one a week or so ago, on that beach when she met Finley Finley , that was for sure. What disgusted her the most was that this chit was legal on this lump of a planet, and it was not up to the Judges to change laws but rather uphold them.

An obviously drunk guy approached her. One in the older category. Even though having her face covered and wearing full armour, some guys just had to try! Did she look like she wanted attention?!

Already in a bad mood, a deep sigh left her. She dropped her foot that had been planted to the wall behind and straightened herself up, before grabbing the collar of the guy and pushed him away in the direction he was about to go. Probably to the cantina, The Yard Arm, that was close by. A least the old guy got her to look elsewere than on the blood being spilled on the arena. She gave it a second glance, the zabrak laid lifeless and the gammorean was about to exit the arena. Loathsome. She decided to do the same as the old drunkard, definately not with him, though!

After a short walk through the corridors of the arena and the streets of the town, she ended up at The Yard Arm. A few eyes were drawn to her, but it was fairly common to be armoured and armed around here. Maybe it was because the armour did not hide her gender. Anyone was welcome to try anything, though. With a shotgun, a slugthrower pistol in her belt and a vibro-knife in a sheath in the boot, if it called for, she had came prepared to perform her duties as a Judge.

Chris saw the back of a familiar black coif further in the cantina. As he turned the head some she saw who it was and walked up behind him.

''What are you doin' on a dumpster like this?'' she asked in a slightly surprised but friendly tone, before removing her hood and pulling the mask down and aside behind the neck, reavealing her face and pulling her blonde bush back.

Eldin Daine Eldin Daine Grok
 
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Violence is my gift to the world.
Scenario 1
Wren was getting bored. None of these losers had given him any real challenge, and while it was satisfying to watch them fall, it wasn't the rush of competition and life risking combat he was looking for. Yanking his shock mitts off and shoving them in the pocket of his jacket, he threw it on with no shirt underneath and decided to head to that cantina he had seen, The Yard Arm or whatever. Might as well get a look at the local scene while he waited for the arena to scrounge up more 'fighters'. His frustration continued to bubble just underneath as he pushed through the crowds with his shoulder and into the cantina. Making sure to bump into as many people as possible on his way, he simply sat at the bar and waited. He needed to advertise his skill set, and this way he could do it and vent some frustration. Looking down at the bar top, he smirked at his murky reflection. Only a matter of time.
 

Cei Kyros

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SCENARIO 2: FINDERS KEEPERS

"We didn't make it that far before your lot spooked us."

Kyros shined the glowrod in his hand down the corridor. Something about the way shadows seemed to dance across its edges seemed almost unnatural. The duros shook it off. He wasn't about to let any Judge like Maokai Bantam Maokai Bantam think of him as a coward.

"Alright boys, coast is clear!" he waited a few awkward moments, "You can come out. No tricks!"

Nothing but static interference replied.

"Damn things must be broken. There's interference here...I'm not sure what."

He could have sworn he caught something move out of the corner of his eye, but by the time Cei swept his glowrod back across everything was as still as a graveyard. Reflexively the smuggler's hand brushed against his heavy blaster just to make sure it was still there.
 
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SCENARIO 2: FINDERS KEEPERS

Aboard: The Lacuna Gaucho
Action: Hanging out with Cei Kyros

Mako had already unsheathed his scatter gun but held it down at his side, he let his face shield slide down from his hat and began to scan the area. Readings were all over the place, sensor echos, life readings appearing down the hall only to blink out as quickly as they came in.

"Ok what the feth is going on here," Mako said under his breath.

He began to move down the hall, gun drawn and sweeping the darkness. As he walked he hoped Cei was following. As he reached a turn in corridor his foot stepped into something wet and squishy.

"Ahhhh, found something, or someone..."
 
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SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

A job had gone really, really wrong. There was no point recalling the details, just the consequences - enslaved into pit fighting by the Orm Syndicate, a small but ambitious criminal gang. As far as Roman knew they'd all started as small-time hustlers before they found profit margins drastically increased the worse the criminal activities they partook. Hence, slavery.

Hayato, still bearing the pain of flogging on his back, made his way into the arena as his name was announced to the cheering public. A few days ago he'd beaten a wookie, or so the public believed - truth was the wookie had a heart attack and died right there but promoters will say anything to extort more bets from the addicted.

From the other side of the arena the other contender stepped in. The announcer vigorously introduced their name to the audience as Sam Rodarch Sam Rodarch .

Roman tightened the bandages over his fists. He wondered how much life his knuckles still had in him before they broke.

I gotta get outta here.

...and kill the shit out of Orm.
 
SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

Nothing like coming home for a visit.

The arena had taught her everything she knew: rage, violence, pain, blood, victory and defeat. No wonder Samantha Rodarch couldn't read. Shockboxing was no surrogate for a proper upbringing, after all, but it was what defined her, moulded her from a surly teenager into a surly woman with probable post-concussion syndrome.

No point in dwelling on it. Let's skip to the good bit.

Her busted gauntlets sparked violently as the woman clashed them together. She'd came prepared, brought her old bad boys with her for the adventure. They'd been somewhat tampered with in a manner that made things a little spicy. Nobody said she had good, clean morals. Sometimes they didn't shock at all, and other times they could breathe new life into a sedated rancor.

Her name was called and out stepped the ill-mannered Mandalorian, her fist-worn face settled into its usual rancorous scowl.

There were a lot of whos and whats regarding the fights, a lot of shady business. Fighters that weren't quite willing. Match-fixing. Death. Sam didn't give a kark, the Dark Star Hellions could have been a knitting club for all she cared. Only one thing mattered to her. Battering someone's face in, and that someone was stood across from her now.

A man, and only that.

The part of her brain that might have wondered who he was, why he was here and all of the hopes and dreams in-between was absent. There was no room for it here. The moment you cared was a moment too late.

Approaching the centre of the arena Rodarch shot him a curl of the lip, a snarl and raised her fists in a practised motion, weight shifting onto the balls of her feet. The addition of the laser tether was a forgotten notion, having never been a factor in any of her fights prior.

Hopefully, that wouldn't come back to bite her on the arse.

The Fool The Fool
 
Violence is my gift to the world.
After a disappointingly uneventful trip to the cantina, Wren wanders back into the arena to see if things have livened up at all, muscling his way through the crowds to get a good look. He hears the announcer give out the names The Fool The Fool and Sam Rodarch Sam Rodarch . Checking their stances as best he can from his limited vantage, they are both clearly leagues above what he got to fight so far in this dump. He crosses his arms and leans against a nearby pillar with a feral grin, fully intent on watching the bout closely. This will be a good fight, and maybe if the winner isn't to pulped up or fried afterwards, he can hop in and catch a match himself, show this crowd what a real shock boxing match looks like. He pushes the grey streaked red locks out of his face. Bout time the jesters showed up to entertain their king.
 
SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

A woman; and probably not just that.

She carried herself akin to a beast. It was the little details that revealed that to him. The millimetre push of her chin downwards - an animal's instinct of protecting their throat; the predatory glint in her eyes, the bruises and scars where skin was revealed, the snarl-

Did it matter?

It was him and her under the law of the jungle.

The usual grimace on his unchanged as he shifted into an orthodox Teras Kasi stance. The gong was struck and Roman began circling around Sam Rodarch aiming to utilize his superior reach, due to his height, to keep her at bay.

And strike at the right moment.

Everyone has a plan until...

Sam Rodarch Sam Rodarch
 

Cei Kyros

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SCENARIO 2: FINDERS KEEPERS

"Ahhhh, found something, or someone..."

"Dank ferrik!" his mustache curled at the sight, "I think that's my pilot."

Kyros bent down to pick up a shred of flight jacket poking out of the bloody goop.

"I saw him alive twenty minutes ago."

This time he drew his heavy blaster without hesitation, sweeping their surroundings with the glowrod now in his off hand. Maokai Bantam Maokai Bantam had brought some fancy handheld sensor equipment but it seemed to be working about as well as their comlinks. Whatever had done this could be right around the corner and they'd have no way to know.

"Maybe we should head back-" Cei began before the sound of a bulkhead slamming shut behind them caused the smuggler to freeze.

He fiddled with the door controls but they seemed completely drained of power despite recent evidence to the contrary.
 
Objective 2: Finders Keepers
Allies: OPA Cei Kyros Maokai Bantam Maokai Bantam
Enemies: Pirates

Because Therapy Command was a little slow to arrive on-scene, the CNO pirates were caught off-guard, while other OPA elements were already out there. Some CNO remnants after Aaris III apparently attempted to pillage the area around Dasoor in search of spare parts for repairs, now that, in the wake of what was happening to the Sith that used to support them, they were left to their own devices. And that was after cannibalizing smaller ships of parts to the extent smaller ships had anything that could readily be usable to repair larger ones of different classes, with an old Victory-X that clearly has seen better days being sighted in the area, spearheading the CNO's salvage operations. As the patrol element began to revert to realspace...

"Friendly signatures identified onboard a derelict transport, CNO hostiles detected, and apparently this heavy cruiser is on its own"

"This derelict transport must not be targeted except as a last resort. On the other hand, the heavy cruiser must be sunk!"
 
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Scenario 3: The Guns of Emerald Vale

Rook gave
Eldin Daine Eldin Daine a distracted wave before he departed. Newly minted as the mechanic of the aptly named Rusty Bucket, she was too focused on the sensor panel in front of her and the lit torch that was about to meet it. Granted, what she was trying to accomplish could have been fixed with a hydrospanner, but this ensured to keep the panel tight-- permanently.

After the task was completed Rook had taken time to sort through the mismatched gear she'd acquired. A bandolier of homemade frag grenades laid on the cot and what looked to be a dissected heavy blaster kept abandoned tools company. Seated on the floor by the cot, Rook wrestled with the wrapper of a nutrition bar then looked down at the disappointing serving. It was then she decided she was tired of small rectangles.

It took less than a quarter of an hour to reassemble the heavy blaster. It was holstered in a salvaged rig, the chunky energy weapon nestled at her right hip. An old but faithful knife she stashed behind her on the belt. She glanced down at the bandolier and its four grenades.

She chuckled to herself, "Nah, be overkill."

Another glance.

The rough canvas poncho slipped over the grenades and obscured them relatively well. The hardpoints she left attached, giving a bit more protection to the beige covering along with extensive ramming potential. She trudged up to the cockpit to scope an unoccupied spot in the vicinity, unwilling to mess up Eldin's job locking up the Bucket.

Purple fractures cracked the atmosphere of both the cockpit and the place she arrived. She drew a sharp breath of the hot and dry air of Dasoor. It tasted terrible, but it could always have been worse. Amongst the junk of other ships there was an old but familiar model of speeder. No one was around, and after a few wires being pulled and twisted the dead bike hummed, ready to carry a passenger again. She found the speeder had only two modes: idle and breakneck.

Rook sped into Emerald Vale, shifting the speeder into idle meters before veering it next to the general store. With a laugh turned grimace she calculated all the ways that could have ended. She stepped down then turned the speeder off by pulling a fistful of wires. Afterwards, the long drink of water decided she needed an equally long drink. At a slow pace she moseyed down the walk, returning the squinting glances from the few who populated the place.

A cantina sounded like a fair-- "OW! Chit, karkin' mother of a…" She rubbed her forehead, the doorframe kindly reminding her to duck next time.
 

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