Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Every Superhero Needs Theme Music

Some Hellhole, Ryloth
The order of society was one seemingly thought to be absolute; yet every decision made in the light had opposition veiled in the shadows. In this modern era, the sordid act known as slavery was one outlawed across the Galaxy. However, despite this fact, there were those bold enough to spit in the face of the established laws...and as such, innocent men, women, and children were subjected to the hellish reality that was forced servitude at the hands of merciless masters. Enter the Phantom Corps: dedicated warriors whose hands were steeped in blood...and as such had no reason to stay them for any reason. This day, their mission rested on the shoulders of one known as Isley Verd: a Mandalorian by birth and a warrior by trade.

The target was a slaver ring located on Ryloth, the home of the Twi'lek race. For centuries, slavery had been the driving economy of the planet; and ever since its being outlawed, the Confederacy had done everything in its power to bolster its economy with other services. However, dramatically changing an entire planet's way of life due to morality...was easier said than done. As such, operations such as this needed to happen; operations that were off the books and off the radar. Missions where slavers would die, painfully, and their wares liberated. As such, the armored warrior found himself crouched outside the entrance to a rather shady warehouse; one "said" to be purposed for the packaging and shipping of military rations.

The Confederacy's intelligence knew better. Hell, everyone knew better. And as such, damn near everyone inside was going to die...and Isley didn't have an issue with that. From his utility belt, he drew forth his disruptor pistol and held it at the ready, then waited for the opportune moment to strike. That opportunity came when a large, brutish guard decided to abandon his post in order to relieve himself on the side of the building. This disgusted the Mandalorian, and as such he lodged a disruptor bolt in the back of the man's skull. There was an intense flaying of flesh and bone in response to the immense heat and energy shot by the pistol, and as such the guard's head damn near disintegrated. Isley didn't even flinch. He simply opened the abandoned door and stepped within the darkness.

Instead of crates of rations, there were cages. Hundreds. They were cramped spaces, some rusty, and most soiled. The smell of the warehouse was absolutely disgusting, so much so that the guards wore masks in order to prevent themselves from smelling how deplorable their wares smelt. Isley, fortunately enough, had his helmet on; but he was no stranger to being kept in a cage. Hell, that was his life for three years...and as such, it infuriated him to see such treatment of another living being. To this end, he reached within his utility belt, produced a pair of flashbang grenades, and hurled them into the midst of the guards. The blinding light illuminated the warehouse and the Mandalorian drew forth his second disruptor pistol.

The shootout had begun...and Isley had the element of surprise.

@[member="Ruza Deveel"].
 
Slavery, the only life she had ever known, taken when she was only four she only has vague memories of her mother's face, nightmares of events that may have happened the day she was taken, but she does not have the ability to decipher what the images that remain after awakening. Her surroundings may have been a depressing reality check, but over the many years she seemed to develop a way to escape into her own mind, dreaming of how her mother looked, how she smelled, various traits about her that would comfort her in nights such as these. Although she was extremely uncomfortable in the tiny cage she was roughly shoved into, she wasn't cramped, it kind of seemed like it was just her size, as far as cages go. Screams of some poor unfortunate soul broke her from her imaginary world, her eyes flutter dramatically as she snapped her attention towards the sounds.

Instead of the screams of some poor woman one of the male guards decided to have their fun with, it was the screams of the men themselves, someone was in a lot of pain. Blaster shots whiz past the cages, exciting a few of the slaves that have already gone mad, instead of attempting to break out of her cage she decided to curl into a back corner, hugging her knees to her chest, watching carefully for the right moment. Although there was slaves attempting to burst out of their cages, as well as a few succeeding and attempting escape, despite the gunfire, there had been a few guards close by, trying to prevent their precious cargo from escaping. There went a few more lives, they fought so much that the guards wound up killing them out of frustration of the situation. ~All they are doing is wasting energy...I've waited this long, I'm not about to mess it up~ she thought to herself as she watched.

Soon there was only one distracted guard sitting nervously, pacing back and forth, the yelling from some of the slaves increased the tension, he took his rifle and banged it on the side of the cage to the side of her, yelling at them to be silent. Hands lunged out at him, causing him to jump backwards, only to have his feet held in place, falling backwards onto his back, the rifle flying out of his hands, going off as it hit the ground. Luckily, nobody was hurt by the accidental blaster shot, also, it just so happened to shoot off the lock of Ruza's cage. Odds may have not been in her favor most days, today was her day, she was finally going to be free. Without missing a beat she nearly burst out of the cage and with a surprising smooth motion, without question she stood with the rifle in her hands, the feeling of the cool metal in her hands made her feel powerful, as if she had been doing this her whole life.

The guard before her slowly attempted to get to his feet, without remorse she shot him in the leg, causing him to fall back to the ground, she laughed, her voice dark with the taste of revenge before her. Although she felt as if it wouldn't be enough to just kill him with the gun in her hands. She could kill him with out a weapon, "I need no weapons to end your pathetic life." she spoke finally, normally she never spoke to her captives, in fact it has been years since she last heard her own voice. Her voice had a thick accent, muddled by the years of being around those who only spoke their own tongue. Slinging the gun around her shoulder as the guard flailed uselessly, barefoot and most likely stunk of filth from not being able to keep a hygienic lifestyle, she seemingly waltzed over to the guard, who was shouting obscenities at her, threatening her, daring her to come closer, she only smiled.
 
There was only one word that could adequately describe the scene which unfolded within the warehouse following the lobbing of the flashbangs: pandemonium. In the instant following the blinding flash, the Mandalorian let his disruptor pistol sing a symphony of death, putting to a swift end all those who were the target of his deadly aim. One after another, the slavers fell and absolute panic gripped them; and what's more, the chaos riled up the captives who were within their cages. While Isley sympathized with their predicament and wanted nothing more than to liberate them at that very moment, he had to focus upon the primary objective. After a small eternity of tactical supremacy, the aftermath of the shootout was finally revealed.

The Mandalorian was the clear victor. After all, he was dealing with a congregation of thugs who were barely trained enough to shoot a blaster properly. Sadly enough, a small number of the slaves had escaped their cages prematurely and had entered the fray against their former masters; only to die moments from being able to live out the rest of their lives free. It was a sad sight to behold, but there were survivors...and one of them was cornering the last, surviving slaver. Isley's initial reaction was to aim past the woman and claim the kill for himself; but he noticed something about the woman. It wasn't the fact that she looked to have been the subject of abuse, or the fact that she was carrying the enemy's rifle for that matter...no, it was something that was revealed to him through the Force.

Within her were embers. Small, flickering embers. Though small, they burned with a malice and negativity that captivated the Mandalorian. There was no mistaking that this which he felt emanating from the woman was the presence of the Force: she had the gift! And with the right cultivation, she could prove to be a powerful asset to Isley's goals. As such, he boldly strode forth, coming to a halt only a few paces away from her. He made no motion to stop her, nor did he otherwise protest to that which was about to unfold. There was no doubt in his mind that the slaver's life was about to come to a swift and abrupt end, but Isley decided to goad her on anyways. With a tone that sounded with a metallic edge, he spoke to her for the first time.

"Kill him."

@[member="Ruza Deveel"].
 
"Kill him."

Although Ruza had heard the man enter the general area, she had not cared, nor did she want to answer him. His mere presence was no more a threat to her as the man before her, if he meant to kill her, he would have. Death was too good for this man, or any man for that matter, they must all pay with their limbs. All limbs should be an offering to her as an apology for what they put her through. He didn't really command her to kill him though, it seemed more like a suggestion than anything else, what she had in mind was to shoot off his feet, maybe remove his tongue and maybe a few fingers for laughs, drag him around behind her in chains. Alive and broken, as they did to her and many other slaves before her. But he was thinking she just wanted to shoot him and be done with it, oh no, she wanted to hear him scream first.

Taking up the rifle and shooting his arms, rendering them useless, as they would bound and gag any helpless slave they so choose. The man screamed, which tempted her to continue to make him hurt, but she needed the current pain to subside, he shouted even more obscenities as tears of pain streamed down his face. How she wanted to allow it to continue, the blaster shots sadly cauterized the wound and didn't allow him to bleed out. Ruza approached him, smiling with an eerie yet pleasantly smile, attempting to lull him into a false sense of security. Her smile said ~Here, let me help you.~ when she was really smiling about what she was about to do to him. ~How does it feel to be helpless? I should do things to you that will make you wish you were dead. But I don't have the time...~ she thought to herself joyfully. Grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the corner, he cried out in pain, now he began pleading for his life, plopping him down on the floor and plopping down on his chest.

He couldn't fight, all he could do was beg, after a moment of taking in the sounds of his agony she ripped of his helmet, then wrapped her hands around his throat and squeezed. She wanted to see the life leave his eyes, it took a little while longer than she expected, but he finally died. Now to deal with the man that has been standing there, watching her, the one who wanted her to kill the guard. She arose from her first kill, and it felt so good, she almost wanted to do it again, but they had all been dead. She wasn't nervous, but after looking at him carefully she realized that he was here to free the slaves, and with out this distraction she would not have been able to get out. She nodded to him thankfully, before continuing onto the controls for the cages, all were locked from a console in the middle of the room, and even though she was not privy to computers like this she was going to find out. Being a slave for so long, nobody ever taught her to read, but she had picked up important words from observations she made as the years passed. Small words were easy enough, but when it came to the more complicated words, she had troubles, she was able to read more alien languages than basic. After realizing she could not read it very well she looked up at the man.

"Help me."

She attempted to ask him, but it sounded more like a demand than anything else, but she was through begging, or asking for anything from any man. They would never do something just because you asked them to, from what she has seen, men only do things when commanded. Although this time she really meant to ask, but did not know exactly how to be nice after achieving something like that in front of him.
 
Now this was something that the Mandalorian could work with, yes indeed. When the suggestion was posed that the now-liberated slave slay one of her tormentors, she did not simply lodge a blaster bolt between his eyes. Oh no, she took her time in dragging him to the gates of death, only to make absolutely certain that she saw the life leave his eyes. He smirked from behind his visor, noting the Dark Side at work within her. With the right sum of training, she had the potential to be an excellent means of furthering his goals...all he had to do was secure her loyalty. To this end, when she fumbled about before the console, attempting to open the remainder of the cages, he calmly strode over. Along the way, he stowed his disruptor pistol in order to show that he was not a threat to her, by any means.

When she requested assistance, he then stepped to her side and looked upon the console. Simply tapping upon it twice resulted in the joint symphony of cages being unlocked and slaves freeing themselves. They were afraid of their armored savior, of course; for who wouldn't be? But they were also glad to be free. To them, he said. "There will be men outside. Men with green patches on their arms and guns. Do not be afraid, they are friends. They will help you, feed, you, and take care of you." He then looked upon Ruza, and added in a silent voice. "I am your friend. There is no need to fear." He kept his words as simple as possible and hoped that she understood them; for some of the slaves were confused by the meaning of his words and had to be enlightened by their fellows. Once informed, they began running outside, but Isley's gaze never left Ruza.

"Stay. Let's talk."

@[member="Ruza Deveel"].
 
Looking up at him carefully she made no move to betray him in the closeness they had for a moment, stepping away she nodded at him thankfully, never has she had a reason to say any sort of words of gratitude towards a male. Only times she ever used the words were after receiving a brutal punishment of some sort, gratitude seemed to be a new feeling for her. Although she wanted to thank the man she could not form the correct words, almost afraid to speak to him in fear that he may twist her words around somehow and convince her to follow him instead. With a look of determination in her eyes she looked upon the freed slaves who began to evacuate from their tiny cells. Trying to gather up the courage to speak again, she though of a way to lead this flock of sheep, yet her thoughts had been interrupted.

"There will be men outside. Men with green patches on their arms and guns. Do not be afraid, they are friends. They will help you, feed, you, and take care of you."

The slaves seemed wary of the man who ordered them, but like sheep they followed the one who seemed in command. Not too fond of being ordered around she looked for an alternate route to take, she was free to choose where she went now, although she was not sure of what to do, or where to go. Anywhere was better than here, she knew the way the galaxy worked in a sense and she had several favorable traits that may make her money to live. With rifle slung over her shoulder just in case her so called 'savior' wasn't who he was pretending to be, slowly she made her way towards the back, where she had previously spied a vent she could escape through. As if he sensed her intentions he spoke.

"I am your friend. There is no need to fear." "Stay. Let's talk."

She understood many words all too well, it was reading them that had been the problem, she knew more words in twi'lek than in basic, although she wanted to ignore him and dart towards the vent and escape through the small space his large armored body would never fit into, with or without the armor on. She looked back at him defiantly, her black eyes seemed to darken beyond their color, although friend was not a word that she had a fond meaning to. There has never been a person who ever wanted to be her so called 'friend' without wanting something from her, how could she ever trust another man? They only thought with one thing in mind, and she wasn't having any of it ever again, let alone staying behind to find out what he means. "My chains are broken, I fear nothing." she replied simply, staying calm in the face of a new challenge.
 
The Mandalorian and the liberated woman were cut from the same cloth in numerous regards. For one, Isley had spent his own span of time, locked in a cage, and knew exactly how it felt to live that life. However, while she was rendering services...he was simply being tortured and interrogated on a semi-daily basis. Nonetheless, he did not voice these facts, but instead realized that this was the secondary reason he felt for the woman; and all the slaves. She was just like him...seeking for a way to make absolutely sure she never was locked in a cage again. Hell, he was the same way; it was why he delved so deep into his study of the Force. And now, knowing that she had this gift, knowing that they were similar, and recognizing her immense potential, Isley simply nodded to the words she spoke. "I am glad to hear that," he began, folding his arms across his chest, "now you shall never wear chains again. My name is Isley Verd, but you may refer to me as Isley or whatever you decide to address me by."

He paused for a moment before looking at one of the cages. "I know what it's like to be chained, locked in a cage, and tortured. I know what it's like to have my freedom robbed from me and to be the plaything of monsters...And because of that, I have lived seeking out ways to make sure that never happens again. I seek out ways to become stronger than ever before; and the main way I have done this is through the Force." he said. Then, in order to demonstrate his point, he reached out with his right hand, focusing upon the cage from which she was freed. Through the Force, he levitated the sordid hunk of rusted metal into the air...and proceeded to absolutely crush it, before casting it aside casually.

"Now then, you have a choice miss. You can take that rifle, walk out the door, and begin a new life on your own...Or...You can come with me, one who seeks to befriend and help you, and learn to utilize that power I just show you. I can teach you how to use the Force; and with it, you'll never be a slave again."

@[member="Ruza Deveel"].
 
His story made her sympathetic with him, which would explain why he was seeking out slavers and killing them, a noble cause indeed. Her eyes softened a little bit because she could hear the truth of his words in the way he spoke. Then he decided to display what kind of power he actually had, abilities that she only dreamed of, heard stories of, and even on occasion wished she had, although after many people telling her how worthless she was, she has begun to believe it. Trying to act casual, instead of having a little sparkle in her eyes as her momentary expression had betrayed her mind. As her cage landed making quite obnoxious noises as it hit the ground she couldn't help but instantly be interested in what he had to say.

"Now then, you have a choice miss. You can take that rifle, walk out the door, and begin a new life on your own...Or...You can come with me, one who seeks to befriend and help you, and learn to utilize that power I just show you. I can teach you how to use the Force; and with it, you'll never be a slave again."

Although a very tempting proposition, why would he choose to pick up someone as worthless as herself? What did this man have planned? She truly did not know what to think of his offer besides wanting to jump at the chance to get out of here. Only to fear jumping into a worse situation that may kill her, at least she had a little power over her life now, it was confusing to think about what to do with her freedom. All she has ever known was life in captivity, this was all a little too much for her, she felt overwhelmed by everything and just wanted to explode, just to get out of making this decision, if only she could get out the right words to express how she was feeling, "I am confused on your reasoning for your actions, I'm worthless, why would you offer me such power?" she asked seriously, her thoughts raced as she tried to make out what exactly he had planned.
 
How could the Mandalorian respond to the question posed to him? Would he speak the truth, and inform the liberated woman that he saw her as a potential means of fulfilling his goals? Would he divulge to her just how black the Dark Side had stained his heart; so much so that he would look upon another human being with eyes of ambition instead of sympathy? Or...would he fein basic human empathy and attempt to make her feel as though he had some sort of legitimate pity for her? There was phenomenal truth in what he had said to her thus far, and a small part of him did pity and empathize out of common background...and he decided to bring that part of him center stage as he replied. With his arms folded across his chest, Isley said simply.

"Because my opinion differs vastly than that of the slavers who kept you in chains. Where they see worthlessness, I see someone who is priceless. You are alive, and therefore you have worth. Furthermore, it is because you and I are cut from the same cloth. Both kept in cages and chains, and both blessed with the gift of the Force. I was alone when I began my life of freedom...and it was harder than words can describe. Allow me to share this power with you, and to be your friend and ally, so that you do not have to know the solitude that I lived."

@[member="Ruza Deveel"].
 
Wise to the ways of men, yet naive of the way of the galaxy, the force was something she thought she would never have. Is the man lying, something about him seemed off, something was not exactly right about him, but she felt as if she could trust in his words. Yet felt foolish for thinking this, her first decision as a free woman and she could not bring herself to do it. She was also interested in seeing what was behind the mask, what should someone like her do? She figured that she didn't know what to do anyway, so following the man that helped free her seemed like a good idea at this time, at least until she could figure out what to do with herself. Although she didn't want to seem naive by jumping on the back of the first man she meets.

Thinking for a moment before opening her mouth to speak, "I would be lying if I said I believed that you really wanted to be my so called friend, but if you wanted to kill me you would have by now. I don't know what you really want, but I am interested in the power you wield, you say I have the force within. If you wish to teach me, I wish to learn, but do not attempt to lull me into a false sense of security first." she replied to Isley, looking at him carefully, then a smile had made its way to her lips, "I believe I will be calling you Izzy from now on." she stated at last before walking towards the door. "I suppose you have obtained a new friend in me, lead me, for I know not of where I roam." she finished as she stopped by the door, looking at him in a cheerful way, she celebrated her freedom in her own mind, which made her unsure of where to go first.
 
The Mandalorian had been called a great deal of names and nicknames over the years...but Izzy was a new one. Not even his younger sister, @[member="Ginnie Verd"], called him Izzy...and he would not put that seed in her head. Regardless, he could not help but crack a goofy grin, which was thankfully concealed behind his helmet, in response to the new alias. However, he regained composure and followed her to the door, giving her a silent nod before responding. "I shall teach you all that I know, and I will not attempt to trick nor betray you in any way. In me, you have a friend and ally, and I'll be there for you as best I can from here on out. Now then, you say that you do not know where you roam, but I sure as kark do. We're getting you a shower, some new clothes...and a fitting weapon. That rifle is karking terrible; bloody slaver couldn't hit me if his life depended on it...HA."

@[member="Ruza Deveel"].
 
Looking down at her filthy self, she could not feel embarassed for her stench, or her own blood that stained her attire, caused by the sick bastards who enjoyed cutting her flesh in attempt to make her scream. After years of screaming, her pain tolerance increased, recently it has been hard for her to feel cuts any longer, her body was covered in healing cuts and scars from years passed. She blinked at him at the suggestion of a shower, something she has never had the option of doing, most of the time a 'shower' ment a blast of cold water to rinse off the filth after a little while. Thinking of this caused her to glare at the man who hid behind a mask, but after she thought about it for a moment, she figured he might mean a more pleasureable experience than she was used to.
"I would be most glad to feel like a human again." She replied as she tossed aside the rifle, he was going to get her some new equiptment, so might as well throw the useless thing aside. Cocking her head to the side, unknowingly being cute with Izzy she bit her lip thoughtfully. "Do I get to pick what clothes I get to wear? Or are is there just drawers to choose from?" Ruza asked as she brought her hands together as she twiddled her fingers about nervously. "Nevermind, just lead the way Izzy!" She demanded impatiently, getting ready to lead him out by an arm or a leg, whichever she happened to grab first.
 
A chuckle escaped his lips in response to his new nickname. He had been called several things over the course of his lifetime, but this was the first time he had ever been referred to as "Izzy". This fact amused him to no end, but he did not comment on it, nor denounce it. "Yes," he said, "you get to pick your own clothes; after all, you are free! We shall head to the nearest hotel and get you a fresh shower and temporary clothes. Then, we'll head to the nearest bazaar and get you situated with whatever clothes you desire." Once the words had escaped his lips, he strode over to the door and lead the way out with a smile, stepping into the light of day. Before Isley and Ruza laid a road ripe with friendship, adventure, and above all else: freedom.
@[member="Ruza Deveel"].
 

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