Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Camping is the WORST [Red Ravens Dominion of Orrazerus]

The last time Octavia Dominia was on Orrazerus, the Promenade Princess was fully convinced that she was going to be sent back to Nar Shaddaa in a body bag. With its raging jungle fire and active volcano Krikatikki’s sudden and badly-time eruption, the planet itself seemed determined to charcoal-broil any organic creature who dared step foot on its muddy grounds.

So when Khaleel Malvern had asked her to travel back to the tropical Wildspace planet a few weeks later, her first temptation was to tell the handsome Jedi, "Hell no, baby, can’t we go to Chroma Zedd instead?" But Malvern had a way of being incredibly persuasive, didn’t he? So here she was trudging up a rocky cliff with the shaggy blonde crime lord.

“How ya holding up, Vi?” he asked.

Her gaze rose from her Datapad, where the young woman was desperately searching for some signs of civilization. Would a road or a trail be too much to ask for?

“I’m fine, darling,” she said, wiping her sweat-slicked brow and swatting away a mosquito the size of a Ropo. She gave him a wicked smile before joining him where he stood, his blue eyes searching over the tangled valley.

“But oh the things this girl would do for some air conditioning right now.”

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
The Admiralty
Codex Judge
[member="Octavia Dominia"]
[2/20]

It was almost as if the Gods were trying to say something as a cool breeze swept up from the valley and brushed past them, before disappearing into the forests behind them. For some reason he felt more at peace with Vi next to him, more relaxed and calm, as if her presence gave him mental strength. A strange feeling considering how they had met, and how he had convinced her to become loyal to his cause, but in the end it had been worth it, no?

His gaze left the valley and sized her up again, every inch expected swiftly. A grin spread that spelled exactly what he was seeing, before licking his lips. ‘Not sure, Vi. The outdoor look gets me all hot and bothered, sometimes.’

Didn’t wait for her to process that, instead he turned around and settled back onto the not-path. He knew where they were going, his feet carried them there, but it would be a while still before they would arrive.

Really hoped none of ‘em would be in the jungles, waiting on them. That would have turned nasty and that was the last they really needed right now.

Ya been doing those breath exercises like I told ya?
 
Chiasa moved to leave the ship, shadowed by her pilot and RICO droids. This of course necessitated moving through the lounge where [member="Mir Nehrahn"] sat waiting. Granted she didn't have that much experience with Ithorians, but he always struck her as slightly more morose than usual. Brilliant though, so that was fine.

"Remember, samples of things nearby first. If we're building next to something horribly poisonous.. Well probably everything here is deadly somehow, but I'd at least like to leave these folks knowing what antidotes to keep on hand. Once that's done you're welcome to commandeer a speeder and help if you need it to range further afield. Or one of the smaller ships if you felt the need."

This said she continued out of the ship to see others touching down and off-loading their supplies and people. Either staying or lifting back into the air once their cargo hit the ground. She'd had a few of the handy little tugs that had been so effective on Drogheda brought as well, you never knew when you could use a good tractor beam. It certainly seemed the easiest way to move the bits of buildings and walls around to her.

"Priority on builds Ma'am? Otherwise these folks will likely all run off and start setting up their own dwellings.."

"Mess hall that can be converted into a cantina later first. Need somewhere to feed and water folk out of the sun. Next, med station. We'll likely need it. Barracks after than, I don't care what it gets converted to later. We're not going to get everyone's home built in one day. Then the walls. After that I care less. Mind that they all check in with one of the clerks before they start building. Make sure it all makes sense and is laid out in a way that means we can put in some kind of infra structure for them."

"Got it."

"So I guess throw up a tent for the clerks first off. That doesn't need to be a proper building."

"Yes Ma'am."

She watched him hurry off, presumably to turn her words into actions. She squinted after him, pursing her lips slightly.

"What?"

Henbeddestr asked.

"I have no idea who that was."
 
The breeze blew through Octavia's long, errant curls as she watched the man. Smiling to herself, she had to wonder, did he make that happen? She had seen the man in action, deep under the streets of Nar Shaddaa, and knew the things she had witnessed that day were just the tip of the iceberg of his abilities. Remembering their adventure in the underground hideout brought a wider smile to her face. The two had been bound together as captives, then almost-enemies, up until the moment that Khaleel roughly pushed her wet dress up over her hips and she gently bruised his neck with her teeth. It was not a gentle truce that was signed that day, but then again, neither Octavia nor Khal were gentle people.

She trudged with him down what passed for a weedy path, every now and then hacking through rogue fauna with her freshly sharpened machete.

When he asked her about the breathing exercises, she gave him a coy nod. "I feel as if they're helping me more strongly connect to the Force," she said, her boot narrowly avoiding a stringy coral snake which had been spooked out of its grassy nest. Raw and untrained Force powers lay within the young woman, unlimited potential that she had never had the means to groom. Her sensitivity to the Force had increased over the last few months. Was it merely the presence of the handsome Jedi whose bed she sometimes shared, or was it something else?

"I feel ready."

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
Status was never something that Mir understood. He had served under many people in his time: the priests aboard his herdship, the captain of the Corusca and his lieutenants, even the head doctors of the clinic on Antecedent. When he joined with the Red Ravens, they too had a hierarchy of sorts. Even a criminal organization required some sort of structure, however loose it was. Though Mir's role was largely as a contractor, there were still those within the faction whom the Ithorian would call a superior. He paid little attention to the power struggles associated with such a position; the politics bored him. At the end of the day, whoever gave he and his crew a job was whoever they were, albeit rare that Mir was asked for specifically.

But status, that was an odd condition. In the animal kingdom, the order was quite clearly defined, hence why the hierarchy referred to "kingdoms," an entirely sentient concept. The strong preyed on the weak. The species that found themselves on the top rung were those that could defeat all other foes, whether they did so with brute strength or with their wits or some combinations of the two was irrelevant. Carnivores nearly always found themselves towards the top while herbivores towards the bottom. A tree could be derived based on the local fauna of a habitat and only drastic events would bring considerable change.

Yet the system found ways to balance itself. There was competition among the species, even within a species, for the alpha spot on the food chain. This often kept population low in the predator category. Meanwhile, herbivores were not as concerned with that competition as they were with survival. In response, they bred in packs to swell their numbers in response. Everything was logical, well laid out, and built for survival.

When it came to positions of leadership within a sentient hierarchy, Mir was less than clear. Some were born into positions of power, some simply craved power itself, other managed to rise through the ranks but spent so long as a follower they never had garnered the skills it took to lead. There were so many poor examples, and, because of the way sentients had structured governments over time, there wasn't really a way to fix that without completely reworking the system. Though Mir supposed that survival of the fittest was the way some governments functioned. He liked to think that a criminal organization would.

These thoughts all passed through his mind as [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] passed by and addressed him. The boss of the Ravens had asked for Mir specifically on this job, one Mir was well qualified to do: cataloguing the species on Orrazerus, collecting whatever samples were necessary, and discovering what possible uses any of those living things might hold. The Ithorian supposed that, at the very least, she knew her personnel. Mir certainly didn't have that knowledge, he couldn't be bothered to pay attention long enough to that kind of droll. Mir found himself selfishly thankful that he never desired a leadership role.

In the end, though, he didn't really care. As long as the Ithorian could pursue his own interests, Mir was content. He acknowledged the Twi'lek with a nod, in any case. Standing from his seat, gathering his equipment, the biologist lumbered off the ship and out into the jungle.
 
"You can hardly be expected to know everyone."

"I used to."

It was clear the Twi'lek was uncomfortable with this development. It was one thing not to know all the settlers, though she'd met and remembered a fair few of them, so they could be called on to report later, but not to know her own employees? The ones who felt comfortable enough to take charge in some form? That was unacceptable. That was how you got killed. Some predators were pack animals, and if you didn't have control of the pack, if they weren't there to support you.. Well a girl could find herself in trouble. Chiasa had enough trouble already thank you all the same.

"Shall I go have a dig and found out who's who?"

"Yes, please."

Was her reply with a smile. She watched as the tent went up, and the small beings, often in suits and with visual correctors of some kind take their spot. Clerks attracted a funny sort of people. Decidedly non criminals, until you got them working on business dealings, and then you were often left feeling like something of an amateur. The things they could do with calculators and long division were quite frankly cut-throat.

Her brow creased. Someone had said something once about finding people who knew what they were doing and leaving them to get on with it. She remembered herself quoting them. But who? Didn't matter, she shook the feeling off. She couldn't be expected to remember literally everything.

With Hen off chatting and doing what he did best, which was largely to avoid work in a roguish manner, she had an opportunity to work on something she was lacking in, while appearing to be overseeing. And actually overseeing of course.

Settling herself in the Force, the Twi'lek extended her senses.

[member="Mir Nehrahn"] [member="Octavia Dominia"] [member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 

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