Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion [GA + Smugglers/Scoundrels] What Lurks Below | GA Dominion of Kelada


Location: Lorana's Labyrinth
Tags: Valery Noble Valery Noble Vess Sadragen Vess Sadragen Whottoomuzz Chantin Whottoomuzz Chantin
Leg - Anchor

Reina turned her head over towards Vess for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the new arrival. Opening her mouth to speak, before Valery said they were on the move. Good. Reina wanted to stare into the eyes of that overgrown slug. If she had been a worse person, she might have pinned everything Whottoo had done on Jobbi. Call her a rotten apple...but Reina wasn't that bad. No. She wouldn't pin anything Jobbi's father had done on the young Hutt...Yet at least. But at the end of the day, Reina had never seen a good Hutt in her life.

"Stay behind Valery. That's what you're doing."

She said directly to Vess Sadragen Vess Sadragen . Val was good. She could defend people even without a Lightsaber. Reina was not the same as she followed Valery, walking straight over towards the Hutt. She might have been tiny compared to the Hutt, almost miniature in stature, but Reina stared the Hutt down as if they were on the same level. She wasn't afraid of him. If anything, her anger ruled over her fear as she let Valery do the talking, a small scowl on her face as she took in what the Hutt was saying...before a flicker of confusion crossed over her face as she...didn't understand.

He was doing this over...some man? Some mate? Were they really that important? Important enough to threaten an innocent person and their family? It seemed insane to Reina. There was no-one she'd threaten an innocent person to get back...Actually...There was one specific person...They probably wouldn't be happy about it but...Okay. Maybe...Reina could understand how the Hutt was feeling. Actually, perhaps Whottoo was even more restrained than what Reina would be like...She'd be more of a storm. Raging against the shore until she got back the person she cared for...

"...What about Jobbi? What are you willing for her to lose?"

Perhaps she shouldn't have said it. But Reina couldn't help. She wasn't used it as some bargaining chip, or as a way to taunt Whotto. It was a genuine question. She folded her arms along her front, as she stared down the Hutt.

"Are you willing for her to lose her friends? People who are willing to help her settle in? I know how it feels to feel alone with the Jedi. I want to help her."

 

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Location: Kelada, Lorana's Labyrinth. Docking Bay #5
Objective 1: Secure the Cargo
Tags: Amea Virou Amea Virou

Evelyn didn’t say anything in response, but the simple, understanding look in her eyes said enough. She knew a little of what Amea had both done and gone through in the past. The ‘before times’ as she liked to call them. A period of Amea’s history she didn’t like talking about, and the Echani didn’t pry.

When she first met Amea, she had gotten a glimpse of the life she had fallen into. Evelyn didn’t need to know more, to know how it could’ve been worse.

Yeah that sounds par for the course with the Jedi’s head honcho.” Albeit, that was more of an expectation on the Echani’s part. She never got to directly talk with Valery. “Can’t imagine she’d be too impressed that we’re dealing with stolen relief aid. Even if we explained things.

First impressions; second in Amea’s case, were always important.

Evelyn smoothly stood up from where she was sitting, eyes locked onto the truck that was approaching their location. She looked over at BT, who had already taken a step forwards, doing his thing.

I’m picking up a total of five individuals. Two in the front, three more in the back. All are armed.” The commando droid paused, calibrating his scanner more. “The truck contains a higher amount of crates than they originally mentioned.

That probably wasn’t good.

Anyone wanna take a bet they’re gonna hit us with the ‘we thought we’d be generous’ line?

 
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"...What about Jobbi? What are you willing for her to lose? Are you willing for her to lose her friends? People who are willing to help her settle in? I know how it feels to feel alone with the Jedi. I want to help her."

The Hutt’s eyes remained fixed on the Grandmaster for a breath longer before shifting down toward the smallest one. The boldest one.

The one who stared up at him like he hadn’t already chosen who would live and who would not.

He regarded her with something more complicated than contempt. Not quite amusement. Not quite pity. He had a soft spot for the small ones. A tragedy how they grow into so quickly into the bitter folk of the galaxy.

<“That is a dangerous goal, little Jedi.”>

The words came slowly, each syllable deliberate.

<“Not wrong. But dangerous.”>

His gaze did not soften, but it... folded. Turned inward. A pause, longer now.

<“My daughter has centuries to heal.”>
<“My mate does not.”>


The weight behind his voice was different now. Still not louder, but heavier, a weight carried by the Hutt as much as the patrons. Tinged with something sharp and old.

He is my heart. The man who made sense of a galaxy I had stopped trying to understand.

He didn’t blink. Didn’t need to. He answered Reina's question with one of his own.

<“When they come to question her, my daughter, to name her a risk, to sever her from the Order for the stain of her bloodline… Will your Masters protect her? Or will they call her complicated, find some untroublesome corner to keep her until an excuse can be found to remove her?”>

The silence that followed was thicker than before. Not dead, but waiting.

Then finally:

<“Jobbi was born into fire, as was I and my ancestors, as her children will be. You think I would spare her the smoke? Better she learn what her name costs—while someone who can teach her is still alive to teach her.”>
The thought of Jobbi growing along a parallel path with the same bitter patchwork of scars and memories that shaped Whottoomuzz left a sourness in the Hutt's heart. Xoff had somehow brought out something innocent in his daughter. Taught them both a different way of life - one that Whottoomuzz was too old adopt, but perhaps one that Jobbi could yet live out.

Even if his actions here were held against him by Jobbi, the galaxy, or the Cartel, there was no other option. The underworld was an ocean, and the scent of blood in the water already predators circling his family. He had to make an example. Because there was no safety for his kind without projection of power. A duty bestowed before birth and must be carried by reputation beyond death.

He looked away at last. Not dismissing Reina, but returning to the mask he had to wear. Her question increased the sting of distance. Distance from the only one he could truly take off the mask with.

 
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Location: Vernak Intergalactic Spaceport, Kelada (Nighttime)
Objective (II): Investigate "abandoned" factory and seize manifests Secure smuggler freighter and its contents.
With: Jedi Knight Consular Kaldor Vexis (NPC Master)
Unit: Iron Rangers x 16 (Customized YVH-1 Combat Droids in KPA-01 Katarn Commando Armor)

As flight approached the site of the spaceport, Mykel could see that it was no less quiet than their original destination. Police cruisers surrounded the spaceport in the air, while on the ground barricades were being hastily assembled on the streets. Black plumes of smoke rose from the complex to mix with the existing smog.

"What are the odds?" Mykel muttered to himself, filtering through the tsunami of comms in the local network. He suspected that the crew of smugglers had probably been tipped off by the loud assault on the factory and tried to quickly bail, but had been intercepted.

His suspicions were confirmed when the strike team landed and convened with the local Port Authority. The Senior Inspector of the police force informed them that the crew of Ocelot's Gamble had attempted to flee the planet as they became aware of associates being raided at the old factory, but as the freighter had previously been flagged, it was not allowed to depart without a full inspection. An altercation between the smugglers and inspectors ensued, which led to a full blown firefight within the port. With their greater numbers, the Port Authority had quickly prevailed, but now they were faced with a new crisis.

As the remaining smugglers had retreated to the the freighter, they had taken a group of hostages which included one inspector. Now on call with the Port Authority, they threatened to execute hostages one by one unless they were allowed to leave the planet. The local Port Authority lacked a specialized forces for delicate hostage situations, and it would take time to muster such a force from the wider area. Not nearly in time to act before reached their deadline for the first hostage.

"If you would allow me, Inspector Natham, my specialty lies in negotiations," The Jedi Consular explained. "And the mind. I can try to talk down the smugglers, but if that fails, then we have alternatives."

He looked over to Mykel, his apprentice nodding. "We were outfitted for infiltration and hostage rescue for our original assignment, so this won't be a stretch for us."

By 'us', he also meant the battle droids he had just upgraded himself, their modifications inspired by BX Commandos.

"I can't say no to that," Natham replied, still looking dour but Mykel could feel some stress relieved with the newfound support from the Jedi. "It's your show now."
 


Vess didn’t follow when Valery rose.

She didn’t step forward when Reina did, shoulders squared in fury like she could stare down a storm and tell it to stop raining.

She didn’t need to.

Because from right there she was a nobody, not a Jedi not a soldier. She knew her capabilities and staring down a hutt wasn't one of them.

Her fingers moved with gracefully, terminal angled low in one hand. A single tap initiated a silent recording full-spectrum, with biometric overlays where available. Voice stress analysis, facial recognition, timestamped in real-time. She linked it to a remote cache outside the cantina’s net. Even if they jammed her now, they couldn’t stop the record from being made.

Because if the Hutt made good on any of his threats tonight… someone would have to answer for it. Maybe not now. But eventually.

She watched, eyes glinting in the low glow of her screen as Whottoomuzz spoke every word as slow and heavy as a falling stone. Not a brute’s threat, but a grieving man’s. A mate’s. A warning drawn from loss, not hatred.

And it struck her harder than she liked.

Not because she pitied him.

But because she understood him.

He wasn’t bluffing. He meant it. Every ounce of venom wrapped in velvet. Not for power. Not for control. But for time. Because time was the one thing the galaxy would never give back, no matter how many skulls you broke to buy it.

She knew what it felt like to have no one. No parents. No anchor. To be left behind and told that the loss was just part of living.

But this?

This was a Hutt who refused to be left.

And if he thought the Jedi would cost him that?

He’d burn down the stars just to claw back one more morning.

Vess exhaled slowly, her chest tight, her mind burning with calculation. She’d seen men like that do monstrous things. Good intentions twisted by grief. Love turned to wreckage because the galaxy didn’t know how to speak any language but violence.

So what’s my move, then?

Something small. Something exact.

She slid a new command into her terminal. Clean, surgical code.

The cantina’s outbound comm relays were not jammed but looped. Any order to act sent from inside would stall in a feedback delay. Ten seconds, maybe more. Just long enough for the Jedi to act if they had to.

She also flagged Tebbin Krae’s name in the local municipal net. Subtle changes civil oversight tag, flagged maintenance clearance, a short-range ping to local medcenters marking him as of concern. Any follow-up on him now would leave a trail.

You want leverage? I just made sure using him again would cost you more than you’d gain.

And still, the recording ran.

Her hand brushed the side of her coat, steadying the terminal.

She never looked directly at Valery. Or at the Hutt.

But she was there still, silent, watching.

Because if fire came tonight, Vess was going to make damn sure someone remembered who struck the match… and why.

TAG: Valery Noble Valery Noble Reina Daival Reina Daival Whottoomuzz Chantin Whottoomuzz Chantin

 
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88e5f5a2324bc737b1631bca558aa8d198a6d94e.pnj

354c3352feabdd161fc7cd8c1ca686c2f313e8b9.pnj
Equipment: Kurohana Bodysuit, Lightsaber, Bracelet, Echo Stone, vibroknife, Mackie Class Droid

Tag: Thel Kaan Thel Kaan , OPEN

"Keep eyes on them." Came the instructions.

Dark eyes watched the enigmatic trio enter the building. Cloaking herself in the Force, the former assassin summoned Mackie and crept along the catwalks, a silent shadow trailing the three figures, until the entered a large multi-story chamber. Within someone awaited.

Crouching behind a beam, Tigris watched. Mackie hovered next to her quietly recording the meeting, feeding the handler with close up of faces for recognition. The speeders packed with weapons and the armed thugs surrounding began to flesh out the scenario. The trio approached to a safe distance, and the parlay began.

Mackie fed its data to the SIA agent overwatch. Neither she nor Tigris had to state the obvious. It was an arms deal going down. But who were the parties. Suddenly the agent's voice returned in the padawan's ear comm.

"The buyer is Thel Kaan, leader of the Militant Front."

Tigris paused, searching her memory. The name didn't ring, but the organization did. They were a rebel group. While they shared the same enemies ans the GA and NJO, their methods were far from virtuous.

"Hold position and observe." Came the order.

Tigris assumed there was some discussion as to whether there should be an intervention, and if so, at what point. Meanwhile, she continued to watch from her concealment high above, holding the metaphysical cloak around her. The deal was sliding sideways for Kaan, and the tension below was growing hotter by the tick.

"This is going to explode any minute... please advise as to action." Tigris breathed.

"Hold position." Was the repeated answer.

 

The Battalion

Another Brick in Syd's Wall
The Battalion observed the paranoid reaction of the Trandoshan.

Kinley Pryse Kinley Pryse was hardly more encouraging but at least by this point The Battalion had identified who was in charge.

"I'm Elaine..." The Battalion lied casually. "The Shadows...well I could hardly give you a breakdown as to how they were made. Found a team of dead Alliance soldiers a while back. Whatever the Shadows are, they strike in the total absence of light. They also cause hallucinations.

She pointed to the door they were guarding.

"I think the shadows are composed of its victims. And what is animating them is behind that door. I suspect that the longer we stay here, the more aggressive they will become. They can weaken smaller sources of light..."

The Battalions eyes slid over to a pair of shadows on the wall nearby that hadn't been there before. In a well lit area close by. Just... standing still.

The Battalion blinked and for a moment, she saw the corpses of the dead soldiers she had encountered earlier. She blinked again and they were gone.

"They're getting bolder..." she noted, starting to sense Katarine Ryiah Katarine Ryiah and her companion also...
 
Evelyn Shaw Evelyn Shaw

A frustrated sigh blew through Amea's nose, her fingers rubbing against her eyebrows in frustration. She had seen and partaken in enough double-crosses to know where this was going.

"Don't bet on certainty." She groaned. "Probably some speech about moral superiority, a nonchalant dismissal of expectations, followed by gunshots."

The truck came to a stop. A single foot slipped out of it and placed itself on the ground.

"Heyyy!" A happy little man exclaimed as he extended his arms to be wide open. "Here for the pick-up?"

The man grunted and pained as he carried a box over and put it down by their feet. Amea shot a glance at Evelyn and then back at their supplier. Her arms crossed.

"I s'pose." She shrugged. "What are you sending?"
"Only the finest crates. Prime goods. Hot stuff."
"Uhh… Huh." Amea slowly nodded and raised a brow. "How hot? What is in the crate?"
"Hot enough to be needed to move fast, before they go cold." The man said and sobered up fast. "Getting cold feet, Greta?" He asked, she had given him a fake name. It was just good practice, really.
"Nah, nah." Amea snickered and knocked the box with her foot. She knelt down and put one hand on the box, the other on her holster. "Just can't remember the part of our agreement that mentioned that we would also be shipping Blisto Krei's goods as well."

The angry face faded into a surprised one. The man swallowed his words for a moment.

"I, uh…" He stammered. "No?"
"Way I figure is, there's at least a dozen trackers in this thing." Amea said and pushed back on her feet. "Are you trying to make us your fall guys, Svenk?" Her eyes sunk, a scowl gripping at her lips as she spoke. "Because you would hate to find out what happened to the last guy who did that."
 


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Outfit: Smuggler Outfit
Weapons: Blasters

Valery didn't flinch beneath the weight of Whottoomuzz's glare. She didn't meet it with fear, or even with force — but with steady, unwavering presence. Her voice, when it came, was quiet. Not because she lacked strength, but because she didn't need to raise it to be heard.

"People aren't held in custody without cause." She let that hang, just long enough to make sure every ear caught it — especially his. "And I know how that sounds coming from me. From the Jedi. But believe me when I say: no one wants your mate imprisoned without reason. If he's where he is, it's because something put him there. And that something can be challenged — properly." Her hand stayed relaxed at her side. Not near her weapon. Not ready to strike.

"But this?" she said, her tone firmer now. "Threats. Fear. Putting innocents in danger to make your point — that doesn't make people listen. It makes them dig in. Makes them close the door you're trying to open."

She glanced briefly to the others, then back to the Hutt.

"There are better ways to approach this. Ways that start with sitting down, with talking — not posturing. And all of them begin the same way."

A beat. Her amber eyes didn't waver.

"You want to be heard? Lay down the weapons."






 
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The air didn’t shift when she spoke.
Not at first. But after the silence, after the weight...
There was movement.

Whottoomuzz slowly raised his hand—not toward anyone in the room, but toward the dim glass of a half-fogged window, barely visible from the outside. One thick finger turned. A silent signal. Stand down.

The Nikto saw it. So did the Trandoshan.
The signal meant: recover the failsafes. When it’s safe. Quietly. There would be no detonation today.

Then came the sound no one expected from a Hutt of his size. The groan of steel as he sat. He returned to his repulsor sled and it lowered with hydraulic hiss and finality, placing his mass squarely at the center of the cantina floor like a thrown anchor.

He looked at no one first. Then everyone.

<“I brought no weapons.”>

He patted his own chest. Flesh and silk and glinting rings. Silently, he gestured at himself. At his monstrous bulk, as if to say 'This is enough'.

And then—his voice lowered. Still guttural. Still Huttese-gravel. But quieter. Measured.

He looked at her now—at Valery. At the Jedi who had been blending in if she were any other patron.

<“Not everyone is invited through the same doors. Some of us don’t even see them. To you, I am a monster with muscle and means. And so the door stays locked until I knock too hard.”>

He accompanied the 'you' with a gesture, including the patrons, the other Jedi, the common folk. The royal 'you', not Valery Specifically

His gold eyes narrowed, not accusatory, but awareness if realities unspoken that cut deeper than blame.

<“I come as I must. Because I do not have the luxury to come as I wish. I am Kajidii. I swim in a sea of rancors. If there is blood in the water, the the scavengers come. The weak are devoured. If I come here quiet, soft, unheard then I am seen as weak. And weakness in my world is eaten.”>

But something in his frame seemed to ease. The Hutt gestured to the empty seat where Tibbin once sat.
<“So I chose the thinnest wall. And broke it.”>

A pause.

<“And you listened.”>

He looked at Reina now, then Vess, then back to Valery.

<“That is more than I expected.”>

His hand lowered to the table. Open. Resting. A datadisc within, proffered for the Jedi Grandmaster.

<“So here I am.”>
<“Not as threat, nor guest. Doors are open.”>


He didn't expect the grandmaster to know everything, or even anything, regarding what befell Xoff Chantin Xoff Chantin — thus he brought a datapad with all the details. Footage from his detainment, and what could be sliced of his incarceration.

<"Whatever reason for his detainment. Expedite your investigation. Let me contact him, send him legal counsel to defend himself.">

Whottomuzz left the disc on the table. A slight, gutteral edge returned in his Huttese:

<"In this we agree: I should not have had to break down this door. To discover his disappearance through sleepless nights of investigation, hire contractors to collect evidence to learn that the Jedi hold my loved one. I should not have to threaten the public in a cheap cantina for my voice to reach the right ears.">

And yet, that is what it took to survive on the precipice between two worlds.

 

Lorana's Labyrinth, Kelada
Objective I
Tags: Valery Noble Valery Noble Whottoomuzz Chantin Whottoomuzz Chantin Reina Daival Reina Daival and who ever else inside the Cantina.


Rolcor Wildstar moved from the seated alcove and leaned against the bar of Lorana's Labyrinth in Valery's wake, the dim lighting casting shadows across his rugged features. The cantina's atmosphere was tense, the presence of Whotoomuzz the Hutt and his enforcers palpable. Rolcor's eyes scanned the room, noting the subtle shifts in posture and the hushed whispers among the patrons.

He took a slow sip from his glass, the Corellian whiskey burning a familiar trail down his throat. His gaze settled on Valery Noble, standing with a calm yet commanding presence. Her interactions with the Hutt were measured, each word carefully chosen. Rolcor couldn't help but admire her composure in the face of such a formidable adversary.

As the conversation between Valery and Whotoomuzz unfolded, Rolcor's attention shifted to Reina Daival. The young Jedi's boldness was evident, her words challenging the Hutt's intentions. Rolcor raised an eyebrow, impressed by her courage but wary of the potential consequences.

He leaned closer to Valery, his voice low. "This situation's getting delicate. The Hutt's not here for a friendly chat, and Reina's poking the rancor. We need to be ready for anything." Rolcor's hand rested near his blaster, fingers twitching slightly. He knew that in a place like this, things could escalate quickly.

The tension in the room thickened as Whotoomuzz responded to Reina, his words laced with veiled threats. Rolcor's jaw tightened, his instincts screaming that this encounter was far from over. He exchanged a glance with Valery, a silent agreement passing between them. They would stand together, ready to face whatever storm the Hutt might unleash.
 


Objective II: Shadows in the Shell
Location: Derelict Factory, Wastelands
Tags: Open, Tigris Tigris


The atmosphere was combustible— one wrong move, one twitch of a finger, and the entire room would erupt into violence. Thel could feel it. The tension wasn't just in the air— it was in the grip of every hand on a blaster, every breath drawn a little too sharply.

It was up to him to stop the situation from spiraling.

"Fine," he said, voice steady, "but we only brought what was agreed."
He took a step forward. "All the Aurodium— for half the inventory. Fair?"

It wasn't. Not really. But Thel had long accepted that any deal with criminals came loaded with risk— and this one was a necessary evil. Sometimes you had to bleed just to keep fighting.

Silence followed. Thel watched as the speaker conferred with his crew. Muted voices. Shuffling boots. No one lowered their weapons.

Before the tension could stretch further, Thel cut back in. "Listen," he said sharply, "any minute now we'll have Jedi crawling all over this system. That's heat neither of us wants. So take the offer. Take the money. And let us walk."

A pause. Long enough to wonder if the appeal had landed.

Then finally: "Alright, rebel. You've got a deal. Half the merchandise, all the Aurodium."

Thel didn't relax. Not fully. But the worst seemed to have passed.

Then came the shot.

A single blaster bolt screamed through the chamber, exploding against a metal beam with a deafening crack. No one saw who fired. Maybe it was a trigger slip. Maybe not. But it didn't matter.

Within seconds, the room exploded with light and sound as both sides opened fire.

"Go!" Thel barked, diving toward a pile of fractured duracrete with the other two Militants close behind. Bolts scorched past their heads, tearing chunks out of the old factory walls. His disruptor rifle came up instinctively, and in an instant, a syndicate thug dissolved into blue vapor.

"Karking morons," Thel hissed through clenched teeth. "You should've just taken the money."

Blaster fire crisscrossed the chamber, lighting the shadows in violent bursts. Several of the criminals dropped, either from blaster wounds or the brutal kiss of a disruptor round. The Militant trio continued to fire with practiced precision, using every bit of cover to stay alive.

Still crouched, Thel yanked his commlink from his belt and clicked into a secure channel.

"This is Thel," he shouted over the roar of combat, "Quetzl, we need pickup— ASAP. Repeat: immediate extraction!"

There was a moment's static, then a voice, calm but distant:
"Copy that, en route to your location."

Thel ducked as another bolt slammed into the duracrete above his head.

They just needed to hold out a little longer.


 
88e5f5a2324bc737b1631bca558aa8d198a6d94e.pnj

354c3352feabdd161fc7cd8c1ca686c2f313e8b9.pnj
Equipment: Kurohana Bodysuit, Lightsaber, Bracelet, Echo Stone, vibroknife, Mackie Class Droid

Tag: Thel Kaan Thel Kaan , OPEN


Tigris watched, coiled in the shadows above. The Mackie droid amplified the conversation, feeding it to the jedi's ear comm. The rebels were getting shaken down. The sellers were discussing the stalemate while the militants waited impatiently. The tension below was palpable, fingers on triggers, anxious eyes darting. The rebels were outgunned.

"I have a bad feeling about this." The Atrisian murmured to herself.

Just when it looked like a deal had been struck, a blaster bolt whizzed across the open chamber. It didn't matter if it was a poorly aimed shot or a misfire, the hair-trigger situation erupted in blaster fire. A disruptor in the hands of the rebel leader belched its unique sound, obliterating one of the thugs.

The militants were good shots, but they were pinned. Tigris ran closer to their side, leaping to a lower catwalk above of them.

"What's going on Tigris? I hear a fire fight. Stay out of it, we'll get someone over there."

"The rebels are pinned down." The tattooed jedi hissed.

"Hold on...unidentified movement heading to the building. Tigris...Tigris?"

The padawan ignored the SIA agent. Tigris jumped off the catwalk, a black shadow descending through the latticework of blaster bolts to land beside the rebels. Her hands shot up and a shimmering bubble formed over them. Searing beams bounced off of the shield.

"I hope that is your back up heading this way..."
She raised her voice over the fire fight, addressing the dark militant as she strained to hold the shield in place. "I'll do what I can to help you get out."



 


Objective II: Shadows in the Shell
Location: Derelict Factory, Wastelands
Tags: Open, Tigris Tigris


Amidst the storm of superheated plasma and ricocheting slughtrower rounds, Thel hadn't noticed the figure drop from the upper levels— at least, not until the shimmering barrier flared to life around them.

A protective bubble.

A Jedi.

Perfect. Just what this mess needed— more complexity.

Still, she wasn't trying to kill him. That was a start. In fact, it looked like she was doing the opposite. For now, she seemed to be on the side of the rebels. Maybe.

She turned to Thel, her expression calm but urgent, asking about the reinforcements called for mentioned. So the rumours had been true— the Galactic Alliance was here, and they hadn't come alone.

"Back-up?" Thel repeated with a slight scoff. "You could call it that. But it's not going to help us in here. We need to get outside."

The Jedi's shield had bought them a precious few seconds, and Thel used them well. He scanned the room quickly, noting the layout, cover, and escape routes. There were two viable exits. One led back the way they came—tight corridors, predictable—but relatively safe. The other was across the far side of the factory, a straight line through a meat grinder of intersecting blaster fire. That wasn't a path; it was suicide.

He pointed toward the original entrance.

"Our best bet's the way we came in," he said, eyes flicking back to the Jedi. "Keep that shield up as long as you can. When it drops, we lay down fire—hard and fast. The more we take out in that first push, the better shot we've got making it out of here alive."

Thel signalled to the other two Militants. Blasters ready, nerves taut, breaths shallow.

When the Jedi was ready, they would make their move.



 

Location: Lorana's Labyrinth
Tags: Valery Noble Valery Noble Vess Sadragen Vess Sadragen Whottoomuzz Chantin Whottoomuzz Chantin
Leg - Anchor

"It might be a dangerous goal, but life is filled with danger."

Reina wasn't a stranger to it. Unlike some, she hadn't gotten to enjoy the innocence of the Galaxy nor the safety of it. She had learned how dangerous things could be from the moment she could move. The moment she could get thrown overboard. Her eyes settled on the Hutt still as he spoke, whilst she folded her arms along her front. She wasn't going to disrespect him or insult him, but at the same time she wasn't going to buckle just because of who he was.

"I can't speak for my Masters. But I can speak for myself. I will do my best to protect Jobbi. She's innocent. Kind. She's not broken. Like most."

Like her. In the end, it wasn't like Reina would be able to do much if they wanted to get rid of Jobbi, but she wanted to protect the innocent. The future. Jobbi was the future...even if she was older than Reina. By quite a bit. Yet with that, Reina took a step back finally. Not out of fear or anxiety. But to let Valery speak instead.

Yet as her eyes stared directly at the Hutt, there was one thought that was at the back of Reina's mind. One constant thought that she was trying to push away as she kept her arms folded along her front.

I want to fight him.

 


The glow of her terminal flickered across her face as the final lines of the recording wound down. Vess watched the Hutt's massive form settle, the firestorm he'd conjured reduced now to smoke and smoldering weight.

She closed the terminal.

No dramatic gestures. No sharp clicks or dramatic flourishes. Just a quiet shut and the soft clink of glass as she left her half-finished drink behind. She stood with a careful roll of her shoulders, as if brushing off the tension from the last several minutes and then began to walk. Of course he knew she was a part of this world but not his world.

Measured. Slow. Deliberate.

She approached Valery's from the edge, giving the Grandmaster a glance Then her eyes turned toward @Whottoomuzz.

Not directly across from him, not squaring off. Just a step to the side. A conversational angle, the kind used in back rooms and smoke-lit alleyways when things were fragile and people needed to listen, not posture.

"You're not wrong," Vess said quietly. Her voice wasn't sharp or challenging, but clear. Calm. "You picked the thinnest wall because it was the one that would break first. You made people look because if you didn't, they'd keep forgetting your name the second they turned around."

Her gaze didn't flinch. She didn't treat him like a beast, didn't butter him up like a smuggler begging for leniency. She spoke to him like an equal. Someone who knew.

"I've lived in that kind of silence my whole life. People like us in the underworld, unwanted we learn early how loud we have to get just to matter. Just to be taken seriously. And if you don't well... you'll get buried."

She glanced toward the datadisc now resting on the table before Valery.

Then, she turned slightly, letting her stance open toward Valery now seated at the table.

"I don't know a lot about the Jedi, tended to avoid them until recently. But you can trust her." she nodded toward the Valery.

Vess said it simply. No grand justification. No lofty words about justice or peace. Just the blunt confidence of someone who had seen Valery for what she was not on a battlefield but in quite moments.

Vess's eyes cut briefly to Valery not with reverence, but with certainty.

"She won't throw your mate into the void and call it process. If there's a way to bring them back, she'll find it."

She let that settle, then returned her gaze to the Hutt.

"You came here the only way you knew how. I get that. Just… let her do this her way now."

Vess's voice dropped just a little more, softer now.

"Because you've been heard."

Then she stepped back still near, but no longer in the spotlight. Just someone who moved from shadow to center when it mattered, and said what needed saying. Still the evidence of her discomfort was plain as she tucked her hands into her jacket pockets, seeming like she wanted to disappear now.

TAG: Valery Noble Valery Noble Reina Daival Reina Daival Whottoomuzz Chantin Whottoomuzz Chantin

 
88e5f5a2324bc737b1631bca558aa8d198a6d94e.pnj

354c3352feabdd161fc7cd8c1ca686c2f313e8b9.pnj
Equipment: Kurohana Bodysuit, Lightsaber, Bracelet, Echo Stone, vibroknife, Mackie Class Droid

Tag: Thel Kaan Thel Kaan , OPEN


Searing blaster bolts and pinging slugs pelted the Force shield. Tigris heeded the large man's words, her dark eyes darting the the exit he had indicated. Then the jedi looked to his two associates, ensuring they were ready to follow their leader. Without knowing a thing about each other the rebels and the jedi would have to work together to escape.

Tigris looked at the dark rebel and nodded. "Now!" She would keep the shield up the first few moments after they began to their retreat, but it would be too difficult to cover them all as they spread out, and were moving. Once the three of them were up and moving, Tigris dropped the shield, her light saber already in hand.

The green blade ignited as she drew up along with the fleeing rebels, striving to deflect blaster bolts as they retreated, the trio laying down their own blaze of withdrawing fire. A slug grazed her thigh, but it didn't penetrate the Kurohana suit.

 


Objective II: Shadows in the Shell
Location: Derelict Factory, Wastelands
Tags: Open, Tigris Tigris


When the Jedi gave the signal, the trio of Militants moved. They were faster than their unexpected ally— partly because she was busy deflecting incoming fire, but also because they'd already memorised the route out.

The winding corridors swallowed them quickly, offering brief shelter from the chaos erupting in the main chamber. The hum of the Jedi's lightsaber faded into echoes behind them, replaced by the pounding of boots on duracrete.

As they moved through the darkened passageway, Thel glanced over at her.

"Thanks for that back there," he said, breath still heavy from the sprint. "Means a lot you'd risk yourself for my men."

The words weren't hollow. Thel didn't hand out praise lightly, but those who stood with his rebels—his people—earned it.

He continued, more guarded now, "There might be more waiting ahead. They know these ruins better than we do. You got any friendlies in the area?"

The question was casual on the surface, but it wasn't just concern. He was probing. Jedi or not, she still wore Galactic Alliance colours— and the last thing Thel wanted was to end this night in custody. Sure, dying was worse. But barely.

Behind them, footsteps echoed closer. The syndicate was giving chase.

Fortunately, the air was changing. It smelled fresher— less dust, more wind. They were close. Almost outside.

Then they stepped into the open— and froze.

Dozens of figures stood before them, weapons raised and ready. Syndicate reinforcements. Blocking their path. Trapping them.

Thel's gut dropped. So close. So karking close.

"Kark," he muttered under his breath, raising his disruptor rifle halfway, though he knew it would be suicide to fire first.

His eyes flicked to the Jedi beside him.

"Any ideas, Jedi?"



 
Kelada Lorana's Labyrinth Ceiling
Objective: Labyrinth of Whispers
NPC(s): Sage
Vehicles: Devilmobile, Devilwing​
Initially, the Detective had opted to observe from his vantage point at the corner of the ceiling. His camouflage unit embedded within his suit and its belt controls ensured he was entirely invisible to both the naked and technological eye. From here, his boots and gloves ensured he remained attached to the corner wall and ceiling as he watched all the various SIA agents, Jedi, and criminals move throughout the cantina. Each making moves and spying on one another. This had been a reconnaissance mission. At least, until the pieces fell into place for his real reason for being here.

As the Hutt Cartel mob boss Whottoomuzz Chantin made his presence known to the Jedi, the Black Ace's attention shifted entirely upon the scene. Continuing to watch and observe, the Demon would wait and see what would become of this interaction. Each syllable uttered from each side stirred something within him. A cold and calculating rage. The rage and anger had always been a part of him, refined into a careful scalpel. But here the scalpel burned hot, vibrating. Ready to cut through any obstacle with ease.

The Fiend had never held any delusions or self-righteousness about himself. He knew what he was. Vigilante. Monster. Vengeance. However, there was one redeeming and saving grace. His code. The only good that came from his exploits. It ensured there would always be a net good, a positive, to his actions despite his intentions.

At the end of the day, the Jedi may have been good people deep down. Maybe even Chantin could have been a good man once. But the Living Nightmare held no such qualities deep down in his soul. Only a singular promise, a responsibility, and a code.

Fear. Threats. Putting innocents in danger. The first two held effectiveness to make people listen. The Demon had seen it done by his own hand. But the latter and last he had witnessed by others. Done at the hands of criminals, Sith, and even Jedi Knights.

He had seen Jedi threaten and utilize fear. Not as simple tools or tricks or lies to win against the odds but delivering those threats and mean them. Express a deep seated rage he knew all too well. A few of those Jedi were in this room, and others were not but had been related to the arrest.

If any posturing were being done, the Jedi were just as guilty as the Cartel. Neither held the high ground in this instance. Hypocrites falsely adhering to a code.

When the Fiend had made his declaration of war, he sought to root out corruption and evil. No matter where it rested. Even if that meant the Order.

"His arrest was illegitimate."

Dropping the camouflage, the Walking Shadow's presence became hidden only by a trick of the light as lights flickered and felled into darkness in his corner of the cantina. He had come prepared. Only a pair of glowing hellish eyes staring from the abyss could be found as brief flashes of the demonic symbol on its chest, if one chose to peer in close enough.

Its sudden presence was enough to force his corner of the room to freeze or flee away from him, back into the light as the Demon made no movements. Only further speaking to the entire room before narrowing its focus.

"I am not here to fight. For now," the Black Ace's voice remained fierce yet steady, like a coiled beast ready to strike if provoked, "Whether that changes is up to each and all of you."

Its stance remained steady as it clung to the corner of the room, composed despite the tension within every muscle underneath his suit. The Vantablack armor masking any openings where the plating met or much in the way of details, especially underneath the darkness.

A haggard growl followed, controlled, "I have evidence to prove the arrest was invalid."

The Fiend did not enjoy assisting the Cartel boss, directly or indirectly, but corruption must be rooted out wherever it may be found.
 
88e5f5a2324bc737b1631bca558aa8d198a6d94e.pnj

354c3352feabdd161fc7cd8c1ca686c2f313e8b9.pnj
Equipment: Kurohana Bodysuit, Lightsaber, Bracelet, Echo Stone, vibroknife, Mackie Class Droid

Tag: Thel Kaan Thel Kaan , OPEN

Tigris followed the rebels through the winding, unfamiliar passages. As they escaped, the leader offered his gratitude. The reason she had chosen to step in and help them withdraw was still as much a mystery to her as it was to the dark rebel, or the SIA handler in her ear.

"Yes..." Tigris answered curtly to the question of reinforcements. It was true, the GA was certainly active in the area. Whether the would respond to this relatively small incident was another matter.

Relief came with the kiss of fresh air, but their hopes of escape were dashed when they burst out of the building, only to be greeted by an overwhelming number of Syndicate thugs.

Tigris tapped the comm in her ear. "Major criminal presence at my location. I suspect the Syndicate. Request immediate response.. and I mean now!" She whispered harshly.


The reply came. "Response team en route. Get out of there."

She switched off the comm, and turned to speak under her breath to the larger rebel leader. "Help is on the way, but I can't say where you will fall in the eyes of the Alliance. When things break loose, get away as fast as you can. I mean, if they don't mow us down first." She added.

Not the diplomatic type, Tigris tried to buy them a little time. "You are operating on a Galactic Alliance world. These operations will be shut down." While not dressed as a Jedi, she hoped the lightsaber she had flourished inside would be enough to show she was not with the rebels, but the Alliance.

The Mackie droid, still hovering high in the building sensors aimed out a broken window, sent Tigris a report. SIA speeders sighted, only moment's away.


 

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