Cults and Cathedrals [Primeval Dominion of Ord Janon]

[Mishk]

Location: [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] s throne room
Objective: my own thing (for now)
Post 3/20
........................

Oh how he cried. The great darkness was sending him away! What had he done to deserve this. He felt the horror if being alone again creeping up tearing at his flesh, slashing at his very soul.

"maaassster... I will return! P... promise, promise! " he whimpered as the great doors opened up behind him. He backed away looking at his beloved masters sorrowful expression. He had done that. He must not fail.

With no idea of what to do or where to go Mishk then wandered around the fortress. The directory were the only ones who now could interpret what to do with this creature, the apprentice of the warlord, and how to extract something useful out of him at this moment.

[member="Zambrano the Hutt"]

 

[Cadan Tazi]

Location: On Route To The Slavery Ring
Objective: 2 - Get The Slaves
Allies: Primeval & Co
Enemies: Anyone Who Oppose Him
NPC: -
Posts: 1/20

Cadan wore Red Raven Shot Caller Armor, the armor looked like it was kept in the best condition, with only a few cuts and scrapes on it, it also had The Jackals logo on the left breast plate. Wrapping itself around his armor was a brown trench coat, the coat itself was once a fine piece of fabric, but now it was almost as run down as an old slave. The coat was severely burnt and carried multiple bullet holes and stains. Strapped to his right thigh was a DL-18, the words "Sunshine" could bee seen sketched into the handle. He wore two wrist mounted weapons, on his left wrist a M99 Rocket system and on his right a CZ Wrist-Mounted Flame Projector. A Red Raven Gauss Rifle equipped with an Augmented Shooting Tool, was strapped around Cadan's back via leather strap.

Cadan was sneaking toward the slavery ring. He still had a while to go, by his calculations he was about ten minutes out. He wanted to get himself some new slaves, but he wouldn't hesitate kill them if he couldn't capture them.

The pirate had a cigar hanging from his mouth and his helmet was strapped to his waist. His scarred face showing the numerous battles he had encountered.

@People at objective two

 

[Zola]

Objective: 2 "free" the slaves
Location: Near the Ord Janon Slave pits
Allies: [member="Keira Ticon"]
Enemies: [member="Cadan Tazi"]
4/20

Zola did not wait for her partner ([member="Keira Ticon"]) to approve or disapprove of her battle plan. The time to move was now, the Believers demanded a return to their golden age, and Zola was the only one who could fulfill its yearning for souls. The shaman grunted and then called the wind into her body to move her in a blur, down the side of the pit. She scurried down so fast that she would land and crouch undetected, behind a squat, oblong maintenance building.

Scanning her brown eyes around the slave pits, the dark-haired shaman zeroed in on a new arrival to the scene, a figure that was approaching from the west. Squinting, she tried to make out his details, but did not get much. His bulbous head and blue skin told her that he wasn’t human. He wore a trenchcoat and seemed to be heavily armed. Could be a pirate. Could be a slave buyer. Whoever he was, he wasn’t from the Pius Dea, that she was sure of. For now, Zola simply waited behind her safety of cover to see what was on the newcomer’s agenda. The heavily armed stranger complicated things a bit. Perhaps when he got closer, she would simply dispose of him before he had a chance to interfere.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

[1/20]​

Objective: #2 Disrupt slavers
Allies: [member=Bellatrix Celvina]
Enemies: An enemy of Prime, is an enemy of mine

Tanek Santii, or Darth Pyrrhus, as he now styled himself, found himself a long way from Sith space. His ship was pushing the edges of known space, all the way out by the Tingel Arm. The reason why the Sith's Shadow-class Reconnaissance Corvette found itself entering into the orbit of Ord Janon was twofold. Naturally, he was serving his own agenda. The Sith was seeking profit for an undertaking he was planning. It involved entering into the slave trade. However, there was more to it than that. There were several planets that could help serve that purpose, yet he had chosen this one.

While he cared little for their religion, when the Republic had come for Ord Mirit, the Primeval had stood there, shoulder to shoulder with the Sith. For the Sith Knight, whose main concern was forwarding the One Sith agenda, this mattered. Pyrrhus had been on Ord Mirit himself, and he had even been using tanks supplied by the Primeval. Or was that something that had not yet happened, and was but a vision of the future? Timelines were weird, man.

His ship had descended to the planet's surface, while attempting to stay clear of any scanners, as was its design. On it was a modest force of Nautolan soldiers from Glee Anselm. Reinforcements for later. The Sith himself was deep within enemy territory, along with his newly gained apprentice. The half-Chiss, half-Balosar seemed ideal for this mission. She herself was a slave. While he cared little for what she thought on that particular matter, she would be given an opportunity to play out any desire for revenge against the slavers of Ord Janon.

Simply put, she was bait. Maybe it'd work, maybe it wouldn't. He'd be fine, though would she? If she truly was worthy of being his apprentice, she would be. Pyrrhus encouraged danger to seek her out, to test her, and refine her into a mighty weapon, as he once had been by his own master. While he didn't know the details, Pyrrhus' master, Darth Vornskr, he knew had connections to the Primeval. He had aided them on Weyland, a battle that saw him return to Coruscant severely scarred. Perhaps his Togruta apprentice was now taking his first steps in carrying on a legacy.

The plan was this: Bella would play the part of runaway slave, coming dangerously close to the known location of another slaver's ring on the planet. They would find her, re-capture her, and take her back to their encampment. Pyrrhus would follow them there, and then they would spring their trap. For now, he clung to the shadows, seeking to mask his own presence in the Force. Out of sight, out of mind, while observing his apprentice. She was being pushed towards what could become a long life under cruel slavers who cared little of moulding her into a master of the Dark Side of the Force, as he did. Oh well

 

[Sareen Zar]

Location: On Route To The Slavery Ring
Objective: Steal some Slaves
Allies: Primeval, Hutt Cartel
Enemies: Anyone foolish enough to get in his way
NPC: N/A
Posts: 1

Sareen had made his way of his shuttle onto the surface of Ord Janon, with only one goal in mind.

Sareen had adorned his Trandoshan Bounty Hunter Armor, clipped to his belt were two Thermal Detonators, primed and ready. On the other side of his belt was a lightsaber whose blade shone yellow, a prize from a battle with a Jedi. Finally on the back of the belt was a MT-U14 CarbonTrap, built especially for force users.

He was lost on this planet and decided he would contact the only other Cartel member he knew of planet side with the same objective. Wasting no time he turned on his commlink and contacted [member="Cadan Tazi"], "Tazi, I heard you were coming here for the ssslacess asss well, mind if I join you in taking my fair ssshare? I ssseem a bit lossst right now and it would be beneficial if you could sssend me the coordinatesss of the ssslave ring."

Sareen began to wait silently for an answer.

 

[Mishk]

Location: en route to Ord Janon
Objective: Doin me own thing
Post 4/20
.....................

The jawa had a disturbing habit to appear from nowhere. To a certain degree because he kept trying to use the force to pass unseen and unheard, but also because he was very stealthy. He also prefered to roam the keep of his master - [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] - via the ventilation system.
This time he had dropped down into a sleeping officers chamber. Stirring her sleep by scratching her head with his claw like fingers.

Her shriek had summoned security guards but the matter soon resolved as they realised who had caused the commotion.

"Masster wish me to collect pain." he declared watching the human female quickly get dressed while the guards stood part awkward due to the scene and part nervous due to the wicked little creature in their midst.

"You... you will help me get to pain." he continued and raised a thin finger toward her. His red eyes gleamed with hunger and for a moment she felt a shiver run down her spine, unsettling her.
This Mishk was not something they wanted around the base. Most of the directory drew a heavy sigh as it became appearant that the warlord announced this wicked thing his apprentice.
They had yet to figure out how to act around him because the warlords will was a fickle thing nd Mishk did his best to mimic that dreadful trait.

The officer nodded and beckoned for the guards to follow them as she left her room heading for the hangar bay.

Mishk trotted alongside her with a content grin on his face. Now and then he hissed at people they passed but felt assured that this woman, some sort of sub-chief, would know how to execute her master the warlords wish.

While they walked she constantly kept babbling in her mic.

Confirm dialogue between the warlord and his apprentice... I see. Understood Sir. her throat looked delicious.

What about Tatooine..? her eyes smelled good.

Would the host lord not dissaprove? The warlord will most likely not agree to him loosing his h... she stopped and listened.

There was that word - hostlord - again. Mishk had heard the title before. He felt a dark ripple everytime - ... something very evil. Most likely something beautiful.
Mishk kept silent as they continued.

Yes Sir, you are probably right. He wont even be noticed. I'll have him put down far from the primary objective.

Then they entered the hangar bay. She pointed him to a small ship, its pilot waiting outside.

"yesss..." he hissed eagerly and lurked himself inside, the pilot bowing as he passed.

Minutes later the ship carrying Mishk entered hyperspace.
Destination Ord Janon.

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective 2: Disrupt slavers
Allies: [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]
[05/20]

Dressed provocatively in next-to-nothing and wearing a Pius Dea slave collar, Bellatrix nervously paced Darth Pyrrhus's Corvette as he sat calm and unperturbed. Finally, his Acolyte stormed off to the refresher to be alone if just for five minutes. Needless to say, she didn't like this plan at all, but after a brief argument with the Sith Knight, which he abruptly ended with a slight pressure on her windpipe, she had no other choice than to go along with it.

Perched on the toilet, she pulled out one of the few death sticks she still had left and smoked it there in the refresher of the Sith Knight's ship, not caring that when she emerged from the small enclosure, it would be in a cloud of pungent smoke.

At some point, the half-Chiss slave would need to make her way to an established rendevous point where a Nautolan was there to alert the Pius Dea to one of their slaves escaping. Since Bellatrix had gotten extremely karked up in the refresher, she didn't think anything of asking a question, one which could be construed as challenging:

"Lord Pyrrhus, I'm worried that the slavers will take one look at me and know I'm not a Pius Dea slave. What measures are we employing to make sure the Ord Janon slavers accept me as a runaway?" It was true that Bellatrix was a unique specimen. With her antennapalps and blue skin, she was a strange alien mix and an unmistakably mixed race. "I know a little about the slaving business, and they likely have every slave cataloged and tracked." She pointed to a faint scar on her upper arm and said, "One of Kuryr's wenches carved my own tracking device out of here." At times, Bellatrix seemed fragile, but the Togruta would see that she was not immune from the brutality that came along with being a slave.

But giving a subtle shrug of her blue exposed shoulders, she said, "Ultimately, it doesn't matter to me either way." Her eyelids were heavy and while she didn't appear overly drugged, she was noticeably more relaxed now that she was out of the refresher.

Spoiler

OOC: Tagging all those on objective two if you care to join us [member="Ka-Aver"] [member="Condor"] [member="Hades Michae"] [member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Sareen Zar"] [member="Cadan Tazi"] [member="Zola"]

 

[Mishk]

Location: planetside
Objective: Me own thing
Post 5/20


The landing site was a beautiful glade, trees surrounding the primevil freighter.

"Wait here.... " Mishk commanded "I will fetch the pain..." the jawa told the blond pilot who merely gave a short bow and closed the ship behind the apprentice of the monstreous [member="Zambrano the Hutt"].

It did not take long before Mishk sensed lives nearby. He sniffed and bent down on all four to speed up his approach. Jumping from trees and branches he finally arrived to his goal. With the blink of an eye he climbed to the top of the treeline and watched.

Down there lay a small farm. Its inhabitants moving around on their daily business. Mishk was certain that they were happy. That was good he mused and cuddled some with the branch he sat on.

Then he climbed down, head first, reaching the ground without a sound. He skulked closer to the village keeping himself hidden from their happy eyes. Their unnerving cheerful state of minds.
He was coming very close to one of the farmers. A middle aged man who seemed to be repairing some sort of farming machine. Mishk resisted the urge to leap forth and feast, he yerned for it but he knew he had to try and bring better presents for his master.
So, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the dark abyss that his beloved masster had shown him. The vivid pitch black evil that surrounded him grew thicker and soon he felt the tingling sensation. Worms and bugs started to drip from his sleeves as he shaped the force. He tilted his head and turned around the last large stone, placing himself in front of the working man.

the farmer was startled. A jawa here? Better shoo him away. He rose to shout to his son to fetch the rifle. But then ... this jawa... something strange. the man froze. He felt something unnatural.

Mishk grinned and lifted his hand toward the man. A black cloud of wasps flew itself at the man. His face turned into that of horror as he threw himself to the ground trying to roll around to free himself of the menace. But alas, gigantic mandibles rose from the dirty soil and grabbed him into its clutches. Mishk threw his head back an laughed.

"You are behaving well my little friend. You are behaving well indeed." he gleamed bashing in his own newfound power.

"Now, how about some more pain?"

 

[Condor]

Objective: Disrupt Slave Trade
Location: rooftop of some building
Allies: nowhere to be found
Enemies: rood doods
3/20
_________________________________________________

The doorway at the top of the staircase was not a pretty sight. The first man up had, unfortunately for his comrades, fallen backwards, knocking over the other slavers like human bowling pins. If this were a real game, Condor was pretty sure that was a strike. Taking the opportunity, he grabbed a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and tossed into the doorway, clipping the door before rolling in and clanking down the steps. Instead of exploding, it hissed, releasing a yellow-green gas into the stairway, the vents on the roof keeping it trapped in the building. The gas was, of course, chlorine, and provided the enemy didn't have a gas mask or record-breaking breath-holding ability, very effective. Not only did it blind the men on the stairs, but the chlorine reacted with the water present in every species, turning it into hydrochloric acid. Nasty stuff; very painful. He could hear the men choking on the gas, followed by the heavy stomping as they fled down the stairs looking to try another way up.

Taking the opportunity, Condor swiveled around, this time taking aim at the exit to the building, waiting patiently for the slavers to run out. Sure enough, the heavy stomping sound got closer and closer, and the men burst out into the open. Immediately, Condor opened fire into the crowd, the element of surprise on his side once more. A few of the men folded over to the ground, their flesh still sizzling from where the shots hit home. Only six out of the original thirteen were left standing. An unlucky number, probably not the best idea. One more round of fire, and there were four. Quickly hiding behind the concrete barrier on the rooftop, Condor quickly reloaded the rifle, before peering over the edge just in time to see those four dashing into an alleyway. He didn't pursue them. His objective was to disrupt the slave trade, not hunt down random slavers.

Of course the issue was that he hadn't seen any slaves yet. They were probably hidden underground or in a building, but that required Condor to go down there and check by himself. Not the best of times, that. Still, he had to do what needed to be done, so he hopped off the top of the building, using one of the slavers' bodies to cushion his fall, the man's ribs snapping under his weight. He would have taken the stairs, but there was the little problem of the Chlorine gas throughout the building. Without pausing to look around, he wandered off into the maze of buildings, searching for any signs of the slaves.

 

[Mishk]

Location: planetside
Objective: Me own thing
Post 6/20

Mishk crashed into the wall. The shoot had surprised him. the pain it caused would most likely have caused shock in most men, but to Mishk pain was something very natural. He did live his life in the demonic throne room of his master [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] after all. Pain and terror had been a constant companion ever since. And Mishk loved his beautiful master for it.

"Get away from my father!" the son (barely a grown up himself) of the farmer fired his beam weapon once more. "die you filth! "

This time Mishk was prepared he ducked to the side with extreme speed, the dark side pushing his little body to heights he barely could imagine himself. As the third shot was fired the jawa leapt high, landing on the roof of the near by barn.

"No... you ssseee - I am here to bring the pain. I dont have time to die...." he teased. running steps were heard as a woman and yet another boy, this one slightly younger then the first arrived. With a scream they discvovered her husband, the boys father laying on the ground. ripples of blood and carved flesh was all that remained, his face twisted into a horrified expression.

Mishk giggled.

"He was very well behaved, but you..." he pointed to the farmers armed son.

"You are very rude!" the next shot missed by far as Mishk easily foresaw the shot and tumbled down the roof landing in front of the younger son. There he pulled out his bone saw from his sleeve and sliced the youngest sons belly. It would take time for him to die, and it would be painful.

"There, I trust that was your sssibling...next will be your mother." the jawa gigled and darted in behind a large stone to avoid yet another shot.

Screams of terror and pain echoed across the forest. Mishk took his time, making sure to induce as much pain, physical and mental, as possible to the farmer family.

 

[Cadan Tazi]

Location: On Route To The Slavery Ring
Objective: 2 - Get The Slaves
Allies: Primeval & Co
Enemies: Anyone Who Oppose Him
NPC: -
Posts: 2/20

Cadan stopped as a message began to beep through. With a sigh, he lifted his helmet and place it around his head to hear it fully. His cigar falling to the ground as he done so. IT seemed to be a Trandoshan trying to meet up.

"I'll send you me coordinates. Better hurry though, or else I take 'em for meself." Cadan sent the coordinates to [member="Sareen Zar"] and began to wait for the Trandoshan to arrive. He sadly looked down to the cigar, trying to burn on the grow. With a sigh he stepped on it, extinguishing it.

[member="Condor"] [member="Bellatrix Celvina"] [member="Zola"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Malok]

Objective: C
Post Count: 1/20

Much akin to the Moon awaiting its chance to dominate the evening skies, Darth Metus was patient.

The Sith Lord slumbered in the darkest corners of his host's mind, allowing the sweet delusion that he was in control. For days...weeks...even months, Darth Metus held his peace. Like any predator, he awaited the prime opportunity to strike...and when he did, the enemy did not expect it. They were in Hyperspace at that moment: a CEO surrounded by a personal guard. What was once intended to be a routine voyage to Lianna was going to take a sharp turn in another direction.

To those bearing witness, the CEO was perfectly fine one moment...and convulsing violently the next. There was agony. There was a struggle. But in the end, Dagora was forced to take a back seat. For the first time in ages, Darth Metus drew a breath. It felt...oh so good...to feel the simple influx of air fill his lungs. But, there would be time to revel in the simpler things later; for as ever, there was work to be done. Upon rising from the floor, the Sith Lord uttered not a word. Those watching were offered no explanation, but continued to work as if nothing had happened.

Good. He could work with a few, new dogs.

As a distant friend of the Primeval movement, the Sith Lord had the means of finding out what their next move was. A call here and a message there afforded him details of an operation bound for Ord Janon. Apparently, another group of extremists had taken the world and needed to learn their place. Darth Metus was more than willing to instruct. Today, his objective was simple: "convince" a delegation from the ruling cult to join the Primeval peacefully.

Oh yeah, he could do that.

A time was set, a room was set aside, and after a lengthy detour from Lianna, the Sith Lord arrived. For this occasion, he was garbed in a rather crisp suit...which fitted his "other half's" role as a CEO...and was armed with only a saber. Oh, and his mind, but there would be more on that later. For now, Darth Metus took his seat before the assembly and awaited the commencement of the proceedings.

 

[Sareen Zar]

Location: Closing in on Cadan Tazi's position
Objective: Steal some Slaves
Allies: [member="Cadan Tazi"], Hutt Cartel
Enemies: Anyone foolish enough to stop him
NPC: N/A
Posts: 2


A wide grin spread across Sareen's face as the coordinates beeped onto his HUD. Without haste he quickly made his way to the location, keeping as low a profile as he could in his armor. Passing and bumping random citizens as little as he could he made his way toward the duros. When the sight of the blue man in his armor reached his helmet's visual identification systems Sareen greeted Tazi,

"Ssso you are the one they call Cadan Tazi, I am sssory we haven't had a more formal meeting before. But now isss not the time to greave on sssuch thingsss, we have more important busssinesss to attend to don't we? Ssshall we head to the ssslave ring to claim our prizesss?"

 

[Condor]

Objective: Slaverino Freerino
Location: The Slave Market
Allies: Primeval
Enemies: Slavers
Post: 4
___________________________________
Condor walked slowly down the alleyways of the slave market, looking around for any signs of trouble. His heart was still racing from the encounter earlier, and he had no doubt that the escaping slavers were attempting to find enough friends to take him on again. That, or lead an ambush on him. Either way, he was in for a lot of pain. He checked a door to a relatively pristine building, and to his surprise, found it unlocked. Carefully, he opened the door just enough to see through it, and peered into the building.

He couldn't see much from where he was, but he could definitely hear. The sound of clinking chains and pleading voices indicated that this was one of the slave houses. The sound of a blaster rifle going off, followed by the roar of a dying Wookiee alerted him to the presence of guards. Trigger-happy guards, it seemed. He opened the door a little more, and checked for any guards stationed at the entrance. Interestingly, there seemed to be none.

He crept through the door quietly, slipping through before closing it softly behind him, leaving no record of his presence. He walked as quietly as possible, scanning the room for any signs of danger, before heading down to the lower levels.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

[2/20]​

Objective: 2, disrupt slavers
Allies: [member=Bellatrix Celvina]

The Togruta's eyes scanned his scantily clad apprentice as she paced the corvette. She was nervous. That was understandable. She would find no mercy in her master, however. He was determined to put her to the test, through the most impossible of tasks. It was developing into an almost sick curiosity on how far he could push her before she broke. It was proving to be rather entertaining.

He had looked on her emerging from the smoke-filled bathroom with disapproval. She was only dulling her senses, weakening herself for short-term pleasures. Her drug addiction was not one he cared much for, but so far, he had not taken any measures against it. In many ways, it was a powerful tool against her. It left her exploitable, something he would have to prove to her at a later point. Maybe then she would finally realize the folly of entertaining such an addiction.

"Lord Pyrrhus, I'm worried that the slavers will take one look at me and know I'm not a Pius Dea slave."
"Perhaps."
"What measures are we employing to make sure the Ord Janon slavers accept me as a runaway?"
"None."

He drew a smirk as he gave her his one-word replies. He did not seem to mind her questions. Pyrrhus was, like many Sith, unpredictable. The line of what was considered acceptable to say in his presence and what wasn't, was a fine one.

She was right though. Her blended heritage left her easily recognizable. Their plan's only hope was that it was a big planet, and the various slave rings didn't communicate. In many ways, Pyrrhus was but an initiate to the slave trade. What she told him of branding and cataloguing came as a surprise. Truth be told, he hadn't put much thought into the plan. It was the second thing that crossed his mind. His first had been to pretend to be a slaver seeking to sell her off, but it seemed too obvious. In many ways, this was too, although it had her working alone, without being able to depend on him to get by. He had a feeling that one way or another, it would lead them to their target destination. Technically, they didn't need to be led. They were Sith. What knowledge they sought, they would claim from the unwilling.

"Maybe they will take you back to their camp to confirm who you are. Maybe they won't. In the event that they don't, you must be ready." or you will die. Though, considering they were slavers, perhaps they would simply try to capture her. Although if she was faking being a slave belonging to them, they would likely sense a trap. Pyrrhus got up from his seat, and slowly walked towards her. "Are you ready for that?" he asked in a stern tone. Clearly, his scepticism came from a worry that she would be karked out of her mind.

Out of nowhere, he struck at her. He moved fast, and with little warning. It was a simple punch, and he came at her with only one. It was aimed at her exposed stomach. As always, it was another test. Were her senses alert? She could use words to try to persuade him that she was as much as she liked, but he would still have his doubts. This was his way of getting to the answer. Would she manage to block his punch, or would he catch her off-guard? There was a lesson to be found in both outcomes.

 

[Ughad]

Objective One
Inside the MIFV
With a Disruptor Pistol
[03/20]

"And where do you suppose they would mount a defense? The most obvious choice would be our current target, would it not? It's too compact to send our full force. The Roads are compact enough to where they could easily take out our forces slowly if we charged in there like we always have."

Why had these zealots not prepared properly? Kadri would never be able to tell. Perhaps, indeed, they had managed to fool the entire force of the Primeval into making a crucial flaw, but from what the Executor knew of the planet, there were few other places near the target where the Pius Dea could mount a proper defense. The armory, if one will, would be to constricted for a good blitzkreig. Instead he would have to play the game of artillery fire. Kadri put his communicator near his mouth, and began to message his forces strewn about the earth and the heavens of this world.

"I want a telemetry scan of our current target, return any information that the computer can deduce of weak points and troop movements in the area, and get me an energy scan of any heavy weapons that could threaten our forces. Kadri out."


[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Objective: One
location: Inside the MIFV.
[08/20]

"If they've set up a defensive along the main access than they have, but we must attack by ground. Airstrikes pose too much risk to the starships." She heeded Kadri's advice as she always had, though. The two of them together were responsible for much of The Primeval's military successes; his insight was invaluable.

Still, Anja's main focus was on securing those starships--not destroying the enemy opposition. "What about our mass-drivers? From what I understand the actual impact is meaningless, rather the energy transfer is what does the most damage, correct?" The woman wondered if perhaps that would be a way to breach their defenses whilst minimizing damage to the facilities themselves.

At any rate the MIFV was speeding along with the rest of the convoy. Communications opened, "we're approaching the front. Expect enemy contact in less than a minute." The broadcast found its way to the communications of every vehicle in the formation. Primeval forces were converging onto a single location. The main access was a sound defensive position, the roads were large enough for the convoy to ride down but they'd have to do so in close proximity to one another. The barricades and ramparts located on either side of the access made spreading out impossible and forced them to bottleneck the moment they got to the gate where four turret towers, and several defensive positions were located.

Precision air support was far too risky, the facility was fragile -- it's a giant ordinance depot -- one wrong attack and the whole place could go up in flames, taking the starships with them. That also raised concerns as to whether or not the Pius Dea are the suicidal type of zealots who'd rather die than face defeat. If that's the case it is also quite possible that explosives would be lined along the various structures that make up the complex. A team would have to search for such devices and defuse them, which made their job of securing the facility in the first place all the more important.

"I want Exemplars deployed inside the base. I don't care how, just get them in there and take out their defenses -- that's our way inside."

[member="Kadri Ughad"] | [member="Condor"] | [member="Zola"] | [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] | [member="Condor"] | [member="Sareen Zar"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Cadan Tazi"] | [member="Bellatrix Celvina"] | [member="Mishk"] | [member="Zambrano the Hutt"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective 2: Disrupt slavers
Allies: [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]
[06/20]

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at Darth Pyrrhus and topped off her petulant look with a sneer. His cagey, nonchalant attitude about this operation wasn’t putting her any more at ease.

She also couldn’t tell if he was proving to be better or worse than her master Kuryr. They were certainly different. Even though Kuryr had an intimidating demeanor and a healthy thirst for slaves moving in and out of his possession like chattel, once Bellatrix proved herself, he began to give her more responsibility and less grief. Of course, he left his lackeys like Chukka to teach her the hard lessons of what it meant to be a slave in his pirate crew.

But she still hadn’t figured the Togruta out. And being high all of the time only dulled her perception, of well, him and everything else.

“I’m ready,” she snarled. She felt a distinct anger building up that he was just going to throw her to the wolves and lie in wait as she used either helplessness or feminine wiles to lure them in. If her ruse was uncovered, and she was about to be slaughtered, would he even lift a finger to help her survive?

As he approached her, his gaze was extremely difficult to read. Bellatrix’s antennapalps could detect subtle emotion, almost like the Force, and this was the only thing that tipped her off to Darth Pyrrhus’s impatience and volatile temper. Because if it weren’t for that, she would have been too karked out of her mind to respond to his swipe at her.

“Aagh!” she exclaimed and quickly sidestepped his abdomen punch, so that he still struck her, but it wasn’t a direct hit. But she clutched at her side just the same, a little overdramatically, playing up her outrage. She let out a torrent of Cheunh curses and then shouted, “Vizehn ch'itt'suvrecah cat ch'ah vah csohn-skinned beint!”*

“Have you lost your mind, Koochu?!?!”**

*Get away from me you red-skinned devil!
**Idiot

 

[Malok]

Objective: C
[2/20]

When embarking on ventures political in nature, a degree of research must always be undertaken. In some cases, weeks upon weeks of careful study is underwent; all in the name of making the most informed decisions when figureheads came to meet. On another note, sometimes a man was given the bare minimum to go off of and had to "wing it." At present, the Sith Lord was sitting firmly in the latter camp, for his detour had only afforded a meager sum of time to look into the current affair.

What he did know amounted to a...basic understanding of the Cult. They believed in Human supremacy. They indulged slavery; especially when non-Human species were concerned. They were...not exactly the most savory bunch, to put it simply. Now, when it came to what the Cult knew, Darth Metus was certain that they were aware of current events. The Primeval had humbled the most famous warrior culture in the Galaxy. If they were capable of defeating the Mandalorians...then what chance did they stand at the end of the day?

As such, the Sith Lord was confident that the proceedings would go well. After all, the Primeval now carried a big stick and Darth Metus was not afraid to swing it. With this in mind, he politely folded his hands upon the table before him and heard the opening statements. One who introduced himself as the "speaker" for the day's event then proceeded to announce the names and titles of those seated at the Cultist side of the table.

The Sith Lord didn't give a hoot, but regarded each one with a respectful nod.

When that was done, Darth Metus took the reins.

"Well met, esteemed members of the council. I am Darth Metus, a representative of the Primeval. Today, I would like to discuss the possibility of something that would greatly benefit us all. As an alternative to bloodshed, perhaps we can negotiate a more...peaceful...way of becoming one and the same."

With but those simple words, the olive branch was extended. However, the offhand held a sword at the ready. The Primeval was not going to walk away from Ord Janon. The Cult had this opportunity: to join...or cease to exist.

 

[Cadan Tazi]

Location: On Route To The Slavery Ring
Objective: 2 - Get The Slaves
Allies: Primeval & Co
Enemies: Anyone Who Oppose Him
NPC: -
Posts: 3/20

A wolfish grin spread across Cadan's face as he saw the Trandoshan. "That be me. But yes, we shall 'ave introductions after we capture us some slaves."

Cadan began to set out, hoping that [member="Sareen Zar"] would follow. Although Cadan wasn't the best a sneaking he did try, walking lowly to avoid being seen. It took them about 10 minutes before they got to a vantage point at which they could view the on-goings of the slave rings.

"Did you 'ave a plan?" Cadan said as he took in the numerous slaves wondering about, followed by their masters shouting orders and abusing them. To someone who wasn't use to this type of thing it would be a horrible thing, but this was the world that Cadan had known for years now. It brought a homely feeling with it...

[member="Bellatrix Celvina"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] [member="Zola"]