Dominion Gunboat Diplomacy | EE Dominion of Bakura

[Lorelai Ventira]

|| Objective IIa (Imperial Loyalists) ||
|| Location: Rooftops ||​

High above the square, a shadow perched on the edge of a roof, booted feet swinging gaily over the bloodied ground below. Dark eyes followed the screaming people with excited interest, waiting, watching, anticipating.

“Oh, come on!” Lorelai Ventira jeered in annoyance, hurling an empty candy wrapper over the edge at the handful of protesters who’d attempted to escape the barrage of fire by skirting the edge of the square. They’d collapsed simultaneously atop each other, smoking. “You HAD to know that wasn’t gonna work, why even try?!” She couldn’t say she didn’t understand their panic, though. Staring down the active war machines of the Eternal Empire rarely inspired logical thought.

Another runner caught her eye. “Ooo!” she hyped, voice animated, crunching the thin shell of the crimson candy she’d been sucking on for the last five minutes between her teeth. “Go go go!! Oh, don’t trip! No no, other way… Watch your six!” Like a fan at a sports game, Lorelai cheered, her voice drowned under the violence of the assault.

There were, as far as she could tell, only a handful of ways out of the square that didn’t end in a body bag. This one seemed to be using his brain. At least, as far as WHERE he was going. His execution, however, was messy. Breaking away from the group and making himself a target could prove his undoing. But there was always that hope… “You can do it! Run! You’ve got this, honey, I believe in you!!” Lorelai watched, breathless on the edge of her seat.

She felt the seal around his death crack through the Force moments before his back and side exploded in a mist of red. “Nooo! Ugh!” The young woman deflated, pouting. “And you were so close!” Lor laid back on the roof tiles with a sigh, her long obsidian locks splayed out around her head like a dense storm cloud. “Such a waste of life,” she huffed to the sky. That moron fanboy leading the Empire's toys needed a talking to.
Digging another piece of candy out of the leather pouch on her belt, she popped it in her mouth and let the breeze carry away the wrapper, rolling her sugary addiction around on her tongue. Below, the sound of battle continued. She knew the longer she waited to begin her task, the more people perished, but they’d made their choices and must accept the consequences. She wasn’t stalling.

It simply wasn’t TIME yet.

She’d know when it was. The Force would tell her.

|| Wulf Orlock || Loreena Arenais-Valhoun || Adelle Bastiel || Taozi Fuyuan || Vidalu Na'an || Viktor Goetz || Cero Pax || LE-03 (Leigh) || Kalic Daws || ​

 

[Fimrati Vailyippin]

Attn: Broka the Hutt | Anton Delane | Race Tolsen | Tiberius Bayne

Location: Salis D'aar | Northern end of the city
​

Fimrati settled herself in near one of the positively IDed safehouses that some of the planners of those resisting the Eternal Empire intended to use to arrange evacuations and, should it remain undetected, serve as a forward operating base for resistance plans. She was looking rather bored, pad in her hand and reading over the local news reports while she waited on instructions from on high. Either she'd be told to keep the place safe and thusly help the resistance, or wipe it off the face of the planet as a warning to the rest of them. One of the few times she actually got to prepare ahead of time for a job instead of drop kicking a plan of action together on the fly. She had both her BR16A1 and ABR1 stashed in spots nearby to help facilitate her ability to fight. It'd taken some doing to get them into place, the leaders of this little group were paranoid as hell.

No surprise considering the Eternal Empire's knocking. And posturing prior to their arrival. It made sense for people to start planning ahead. Including expecting agents of the Empire to show up and start making the rounds. A silly notion from what Fimrati saw of the Empire. These people didn't much care for subtle. All the grace, prowess, and drive of an anvil dropped from orbit. That's where she came in honestly. Provide the scalpel to the Empire's sledgehammer. She'd opted for a heavier coat than normal, all the better to hide her ZJ-15's and combat knife. In all honesty, the only weapon she hadn't brought was the AMRX-5 slugthrower she preferred for very long range shots.

Still, giving a sigh, she lifted her gaze a moment to make sure that the safehouse was still not on enough of an alert to realize her staking it out yet. So far so good. Tapping a couple of options on her pad, she changed pages on it while also opening a line to the hutt handling the Empire side of negotiations. "I'm here. Are you sure this is the right street? Still waiting on you to show up. Yeah. I'm still debating between a salad or the meat options for lunch." She said, avoiding using Huttese for a reason, making it sound like she was waiting to meet someone to anyone deeming to listen in. In reality? She was saying she was in position and just waiting the leash being removed, for either way, salad for helping the resistance, or meat for helping the Empire. The reason for using Basic instead of Huttese? Anyone hearing her speak it would immediately realize she was up to something. but Basic? It was the galactic default.

 

[Colrenn Renth]

​

Location: Rooftops above the square
Primary of objective: IIa
Secondary objective: Identity, locate and detain dissent leaders
Allies: Ilsa Visel , LE-03 (Leigh) , Wulf Orlock


As the Blackwatch agent Colreen Renth took a position on the rooftop of a building overlooking the plaza below, took his sniper rifle and began systemically eliminated the no scattered protests adding to chaos and people in crowd now seeded to randomly fall dead, as scanned for target he also looked for cues about the resistance leaders and possible safe house and command structure and the like. He took a woman feeling, 800 meters out and he approximately 1000 meters high, taking account the rotation and gravy of the planet he made adjustments to scope talking himself through said adjustment out loud "2up, right 3 wind 3/4 value." the clicks of knobs he adjusted, went to glass slowly squeeing the trigger firing precisely at his natural pause between breath he watched as the crimson bolt sailed to it target hitting in back of head and exiting the front leave nothing but a smoking brunt hole here he face had been her lifeless body instantly drooped nearby protesters that saw he died screamed in terror and fanatic look about for where the shot came from in turn each one was struck down by crimson bolt from nowhere. He noticed a gap in perimeter the soldiers had set up and group of protesters heading right for it he simultaneous got in position to have fire angle on the group and got the comm to command "Cipher 9 to command broken shield zone Alpha sector 33 dissidents inbound for that location over." just finished speaking he went to his scope and started picking off the group he could only manage 3 kills before the group made to point he no longer had firing angle on. He had taken not the majority of the crow was going one of two directions and there was small but stead group heading away from the main body. "Cipher 9 to command possible lead on the location of dissident leaders, Cipher 9 going dark."

He stiped off his recon/sniper grab in street clothes to blend in with the crowd hopped a lift to the main floor of the building, quickly made his way out a side door and into an ally to join the small group as fleed in the confusion no one even noticed where this addition came from as an explosion happens not far from the group one yelled back "keep you heads down the safe house isn't much further now!" after a few hundred yards and losing sever members to rifle fire of the soldiers the group darted and abandoned building and through a secret entrance into the swears. After about 20 minutes slagging through the foul-smelling sludge, Colrenn spoke up in a flawless Correllian accent "We reach this safe house while we still a sense of smell?" "It's only a few hundred meters away now, quit your complaining and get moving." they finally climbed up a ladder and into the safe a crowded abounded storage bay in one of the old factories "we'll be safe here for a while the Party for Freedom and our allies will take care of you."

 

[Broka the Hutt]

The High Nelvaanian was easily translated by a protocol droid at Broka's side. Broka was not truly phased by the Grand Admiral's threat. He expected such a response from the Imperials. The ships scanners picked up that small. transport craft were leaving the ship of the responding Grand Admiral. When the craft entered the hangar of Broka's Chelandion, they were greeted by a droid that lead them to the main chamber. These Imperials stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison to the denizens on board the Grancha Nem'ro. When the Grand Admiral, who identified himself as Tiberius Bayne, jumped to the point, Broka was very intrigued. He never worked with Imperials before, yet after hearing stories about the Imperials of old dealing business with his father, he expected some herald, or pleasantries. Thus, this man was different, and both engaged Broka's curiosity and gained Broka's respect (though his expression, as many Hutts, remained dead-pan). The Imperials stood in front of his throne. Thus, speaking in Huttese, Broka spoke in return.

"<To put things simply, my organization knows something the Eternal Empire does not, and is willing to bargain for it. It could easily allow the Empire to put down some of the protests of the locals. It has been no secret among the Hutt families that several resistance forces have been purchasing arms from the markets of rivaling gangs within our worlds. With these orders, the coordinates of the destinations of these purchases are known by a few syndicates. I managed to "persuade" a lesser gang on Nar-Shaddaa to give my Kajiedic this information. I can sell you the coordinates of rebel safe houses these shipments were made to for a fee we can negotiate. Also, as I said in my transmission, allowing my forces into major cities to quell civilian uprisings could sweeten the deal, and help maintain order during your taking of this world. It would not be wise to discuss the fine details in this chamber, to many ears that are not in a position to hear it. If you would follow an escort of Lieutenants to a meeting room, we could discuss these matters more privatley. Before you raise concern, I know my organization's reputation among people like you. I can assure you I am not so foolish as to tern on a possible client and-or ally.>"
The protocol droid at Broka's left side then translated the Hutt's reply to the Grand Admiral.

When the Grand Admiral, and his escorting troops, turn, they see a few rough looking individuals, accompanied by another protocol droid, come from a corridor to Broka's right side, and ushered them in. As they followed the escorts, they come across a room a little ways down from the entrance to this corridor. As they entered, Broka was already seated, and ready to negotiate on a very similarly looking throne to what they saw in the main chamber. Upon seeing the visitors, Broka then says (again in his language of Huttese), "<Now. Shall we get started with negotiations?>"

Tiberius Bayne

 

[Cero Pax]

ATTN: @ Wulf Orlock , @ Ilsa Visel , @ Viktor Goetz , Loreena Arenais-Valhoun , Vidalu Na'an
EQUIPMENT: Beskar'gam, RSKF-44, 9118 Heavy Carbine, ABC Scrambler Pods[3x], Concussion Grenades[2x Sonic]
OBJECTIVE: II
In normal circumstances, the smoke and yelling alone would've been enough to cause mass confusion by themselves, but when you added in the roar of heavy weapons fire, the screaming of those they were used on, and the heavy tread of armored vehicles, you wound up with something like this; a full scale riot. Most people here would seek to to escape the massacre that unfolded, like his query. Others, in true noble fashion, would probably seek to save as many lives as they could. Those types would probably be the ones who needed to be negated the most.

He pushed his way through the crowd of people, even as blaster bolt flew throughout the air around them, tossing each aside to the ground as he closed the gap on the targets. As Cero moved, his ears would suddenly be filled with a ringing sound, an all too familiar sense that'd cause him to side-step out of his given path. No sooner than a second later, a man swung down into the empty space where he'd been, wielding what looked to be a large hammer, the type used in demolitions and construction. The bewildered face on the man was replaced with one of confusion, when Cero unholstered his RSKF-44 and fired shot into his back, instantly killing him. The crowd around them seemed to part a bit more at the sound of close-by blaster fire, giving him an even more space to maneuver.

Activating his jetpack, he was propelled into the air, and glided over the bodies, both live and dead, of the people below, landing right in front of the group he'd been pursuing. "Where you going? The fun is just getting started." He remarked. Two of the men in the party of three instantly pulled blasters, one managing to get a shot off before Cero responded in kind. The bolt flashed as it impacted the beskar chestpiece of his beskar'gam, while the two men fell to the ground, holes in both their chests. "Two armed guards? Not very subtle, I'd say."

The remaining man eyed him with a harsh glare. "Your kind won't take Bakura!" With that, he pulled a vibroblade and rushed him. Cero caught the man's wrist mid-lunge, twisting it to the point the 'pop' sounds were heard in it. He screamed in pain as it was bent behind his back. "Little late for those kinds of war cries." He activated his stun gauntlet, bathing his right hand in an electrical aura, before he applied it to the back of the ring leader, illiciting a few seconds of wild spasms before he went limp. Releasing him, Cero would take a picture of his face with his holo-imager, and forward it into the Eternal Empire's channels, letting them know who the man was and to try not to shoot or run him over.

With that taken care of, he craned his head around, using the thermal overlay of his helmet to get a better read on the situation around him. For the most part, it involved bodies moving in every which way and direction, some falling to the ground occasionally and going cold. Activating his jetpack, he suspended himself in the air for a few seconds, getting a better view of the area. By now their were hundreds of bodies in the streets, as the Ultranauts began to press in, inevitably squeezing the remainder of the crowd into any gaps they could find. None of the groups looked especially important, at least, not at first glance. That was until, of course, he spotted Kalic Daws with a group of women and children, following behind a woman who had a clear path in mind. Locking onto them with his rangefinder, he let himself fall in a controlled glide downwards, in pursuit of them.

 

[Kalic Daws]

Kalic nodded to Loreena, looking back at the landing area. He then looked at the armored vehicles, and if he could glare right now he would. The Miraluka was trying to understand why any empire would try this. Any empire. Then again, the last "empire" he was at wasn't so much an empire as it was a democratic monarchy, so he may not have been exposed to any of the real possibilities. Kalic looked back at the landing area, getting an idea, and quickly pulled out his comm.

"Jee. Once we get clear, take advantage of those torpedoes in the flextubes. Be sure they get a message." Kalic then quickly turned and followed the group, unslinging his T-21 and shouldering the heavy blaster and following from the back of the group. The Outer Rim pilot wasn't use to things like... this, but he knew how to fire a blaster rifle when it came down to it. He didn't notice Cero, more focused on the ground forces, but he stayed ready to give his droid the signal.

Loreena Arenais-Valhoun Cero Pax Taozi Fuyuan Ilsa Visel Wulf Orlock Viktor Goetz Lorelai Ventira LE-03 (Leigh) Adelle Bastiel Vidalu Na'an

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Objective: IIb

More chaos errupted. There were explosions, blaster fire, screams of hate and the agonies of death. Lori felt the lives being snuffed out. She was Force sensitive and for a short while she was under the tutelage of her Dad WolfMortum at the Jedi Academy on Kashyyyk. However she was stubborn and couldn't handle all of the rules and restrictions placed upon her. So she headed off to find her own place in the Galaxy.

And that led her to here.

Everyone was scrambling, some were trampled, yet the small group of women and younglings managed to squeeze by. Perhaps it was their smaller sizes that made it easier. She wasn't sure. But they needed to get away.

Lori led them to one of the sewer entrances. She gripped the iron grate and lifted it. "EVERYONE SHUT YOUR EYES!!" There was one trick that she had taught herself when she was very young; creating a ball of light. Her Dad also had the ability and she saw what could be done with it. Closing her own eyes, Lori held out her hand and focused on the Force and the particles of air in front of her. She spun them wildly and quickly, creating a ball of light that grew and grew like a baloon being inflated. And then she made it explode sending a big flash of light that was sure to blind anyone in the immediate area that did not shut their eyes. She hoped that the temporary blindness would be enough to hide their escape. Opening her eyes, she ushered the women and younglings into the sewers. "HURRY!! GO! GO! GO!!" Just like Kalic Daws , she didn't see Cero Pax either. She was too focused on getting others to safety.

 

[Wulf Orlock]

Post #5 (Tacitus Alt)
Attn: Ilsa Visel || Loreena Arenais-Valhoun || Viktor Goetz || Kalic Daws || Taozi Fuyuan || Cero Pax || Lorelai Ventira || LE-03 (Leigh) || Vidalu Na'an || Adelle Bastiel || Colrenn Renth ||Open​

Fieldmarshall Orlock was not the kind of man for half measures when it came to his job. Yes, the majority of the protesters had been scattered or killed, but until the organizers of this sedition were apprehended and made examples of, such defiance could occur again. The rebels had clearly demonstrated that they were not beyond using civilians as human shields and diversions, while they hid in the shadows, ambushing the Imperials with rockets. But the Eternal Empire was not the kind of regime to fall for such a trick as using civilians as meatshields. A painful lesson had to be taught, to drive the point across that using one's status as a non-combattant to hide and enable rebels, was not something that the Eternal Empire tolerated. And so, he snapped a few quick hand gestures in Imperial military sign code.

"<Fix bayonets!>" one of the officers immediately echoed. For a few brief moments, the hail of fire halted, as several hundred Ultranauts drew their blades and mounted them onto their rifles in one, swift motion. "<Infantry, advance!>" came the second command and the soldiers broke from their positions at a brisk pace, firing their rifles as they marched, tightening the noose around those protesters who had not yet died or managed to escape. Those too injured to crawl out of the way in time, were simply finished off with quick bayonet thrusts, brutally, without mercy or hesitation, like they were just numbers to be crossed off a list.

"<Bring up the flamethrowers,>" the Fieldmarshall ordered, pleased with the progress. Immediately, a squad of specialized Combat Engineers emerged from the Infantry Fighting Vehicle, forming up in a line and checking their equipment one last time. Marching forward and fanning out before joining the line of soldiers, the Pyronauts unleashed utter horror upon the crowds of civilians, launching jets of liquid fire upon groups of men, women, young and elderly, younglings and all, indiscriminately. Utter carnage ensued, several panicking protesters trying to take shelter inside one of the buildings adjacent to the square. The Pyronauts simply torched.

Within the span of a few minutes, hundreds had been cut down by blaster fire, stabbed by bayonets, or turned into living torches by the Imperial contingent, which showed no mercy or hesitation. It did not take long for a squad of Ultranauts to catch up to Loreena Arenais-Valhoun and her companions. "<Stop that group!>" the sergeant shouted, followed up by a more sinister command. "<Blast them!>"

One amongst the fleeing protesters produced some kind of blinding light, which temporarily dazed the soldiers, though that did not stop them from opening fire in the general direction of the group.

One of the officers pointed up and reported something to the Fieldmarshall, who quickly snapped back a few orders. Up above, one of the dropships was diving towards the square, Leigh and her companion inside it. It did not take long for the Imperials to issue a challenge. "<Dropship, identify yourself and state your assigned orders,>" came the message in the cold, harsh voice of an Imperial officer.

Meanwhile, the Fieldmarshall received another report, from Cipher 9, which he acknowledge with a double click from his comlink. Pleased with the development, Orlock awaited the infiltrator's next message.

 

[Tiberius Bayne]

Post #6 (Tacitus Alt)
Attn: Broka the Hutt || Fimrati Vailyippin​

The Grand Admiral waited patiently for the protocol droid to finish translating his words for the Hutt. It did not matter to him much that the Hutt could not understand the language of the Eternal Empire. In due time, High Nelvaanian would be the language of the entire galaxy and then, the rest of the universe as the unstoppable march of Infinite Conquest spread far and wide, to all corners of space and beyond. It was the Eternal Empire's manifest destiny to reshape the universe in its own image, a grand ambition no other nation has dared aspire to, since the days of Emperor Palpatine.

But this was not the time for contemplating grand designs for the distant future and the Grand Admiral was not the kind of man who liked to waste time. The Hutt brought up the topic of arms transactions, making sure to firmly put the blame on rival Hutt families, putting himself in a position where it would appear that the Hutt and the Imperials had common foes. It was a tactic the Grand Admiral was familiar with, from his previous experiences with the Hutts and he wondered how much of it was true, suspecting that this Hutt had likely also been involved in those arms deals, simply due to his eagerness to deny it before even being asked. It was, however, irrelevant for now, though Bayne would make sure to remember it in the future, in case his suspicions ever proved useful.

The Grand Admiral nodded, following after the Hutt into one of the side chambers with his entourage of guards. It was, indeed, time to get down to business and Bayne knew what would come next in the negotiation, as it was a script he'd seen played out a hundred times before. He nodded. It was time to play his next part in it.

"<That is, indeed, the kind of information that the Eternal Empire would pay very well for, if it turns out to be correct and useful,>" the Grand Admiral responded. "<Those who provide useful, loyal service to the Empire, will find that the Empire's coffers are deep and its generosity knows no bounds,>" he said to the Hutt. "<However, you understand that before we could discuss how generously the Empire would pay you for this patriotic service, some proof of your claims is required. We can not conduct a business transaction without inspecting the merchandise, first, in order to properly appraise its value, you see.>"

Doubtlessly, the Hutt had some agents on the ground, keeping watch on these safehouses, so the Grand Admiral had no doubts that a demonstration could be arranged. He tapped a few buttons on his datapad, before continuing. "<I have a proposal. Provide the Empire with a small demonstration, say, in the form of destroying one of these safehouses. And then, we can discuss the matter of price, depending on how many rebels your patriotic collaborators bring to justice.>"

 

[Viktor Goetz]

​

Attn: Open
Equipment: x1 Sk-UL Mk3.3 Shadow Armor, x1 KC-47 Hybrid Strike Rifle with attached Lucius-pattern Bayonet, x1 Lucius-pattern Bayonet, x2 KC-95 Blaster Pistols, 1x KC-T80 40mm Grenade Launcher with T-289 Gas Grenades
Attachment: x1 Blackwatch Psi Corps Agent, x1 Platoon (30) of 3rd Regiment "Saurus's Shadow" Ultranauts with attached heavy weapons support fireteam (10), x4 KV-1807 'Armadillo' Armored Personnel Carrier armed with KC-T80 40mm Grenade Launcher with T-289 Gas Grenades, x1 Gamma Series Titan-pattern Armored Heavy Transport

Just as Baron Viktor Goetz and his Ultranauts stormed the facility, he observed the lobby of the Bakuran treasury building. The civilians had fled from the lobby and a few cowered in the front; those either too scared to move or too late in fleeing backwards. It mattered not, and their fear had saved their lives. The Ultranauts proceeded to bind the cowering individuals, dragging them to the Gamma Series Titan-pattern Armored Heavy Transport for processing by the Blackwatch Psi Corps Agent. Their feet and hands were shackled with durasteel binders, ensuring none would be able to escape if they tried to run. Any resistance was met with a swift stab of the nearest Ultranaut's bayonet, but fortunately, none of the thirty nine individuals tried to escape.

Viktor motioned for one of the Ultranauts to pass a voice amplifier and he stoically and coldly commanded, "Surrender and your lives will be spared. Any who resist or flee will be summarily executed under Imperial law for charges of high treason and subversion."

470 individuals needed to be accounted for, and he trusted this number as it came from a triple-validated Blackwatch report complete with bioscans dating only a few moments after Viktor had sealed the area. There were a few stragglers who left before this, however, Blackwatch personnel had already taken care of these individuals and called Viktor and his platoon for assistance storming the treasury building. As Viktor counted down for ten seconds, he heard a few dozen individuals slowly proceed forward with their arms raised. Nodding and counting the heads, he accounted for forty more individuals and was disappointed by the lack of loyalty in the treasury building.

'Only a resistance rate of 84%. I hoped the Bakurans were a bit more loyal, my transport doesn't have enough room for all of them.'

Engaging in his helmet's encrypted comms, he quietly communicated with the Blackwatch Psi Corps Agent, "Have an Ultranaut drag away any non-intelligence targets and execute them around the corner. The Eternal Empire has no need for cowards, and the rest will be tortured for information at a secured facility"

Nodding at the group of those who surrendered, he spoke openly and addressed them with the voice amplifier, "Fear not, the Eternal Empire is here to provide order and safety for all who accept Imperial rule. Any crimes committed against the Empire will be pardoned if they were impressed upon you by your superiors."

Moving forward with twenty of the Ultranauts while the other ten bound and detained forty who surrendered, Viktor unholstered KC-T80 40mm Grenade Launcher with T-289 Gas Grenades from his shoulder and motioned for five-man fire teams to flank both sides of the two doors. According to Blackwatch intelligence, the left door was the financial office while the other was the administrative office, in which most had surrendered from. In order to reach the vaults, one had to enter the financial office and be led through a series of ten security checkpoints that went deeper into the facility. Behind the last checkpoint, a large, durasteel vault door protected the Bakuran governments protected assets and reserves, while smaller vaults flanked the left and right of each prior checkpoint, with each checkpoint marking the value and security priority of their contents. The Vault itself extended down underground, which was completely encased in pure durasteel and ferrocrete, expanding for several levels downward. Each lower level indicated greater protected statuses of the assets.

Firing into the right door first, which was made of just wood, the two fireteams burst in and immediately surveyed the room. It seemed that all the administrative staff had already surrendered or attempted to flee, and soon, the Ultranauts roughly began to collect any datapads, computer cores, datacards, and electronics. Shoving them in any containers they could find, they quickly moved the assets back to the Armored Heavy Transport, which was now empty. The Blackwatch Psi Corps Agent deemed all of the detained individuals as worthless intelligence targets, resulting in a summary execution of all of them, leaving behind binders, a pile of any valuable personal belongings, and any electronics they had on them. All of these were dumped into plasteel containers and neatly stacked at the back of the Armored Heavy Transport.

As the Ultranauts finished clearing the administrative office of its information and electronics, the Blackwatch Psi Corps Agent entered and set up temporarily set up shop in the administrative office. One section stayed back at the Armored Heavy Transport while the other rejoined Viktor and his section in breaching the financial office.

Aiming his Grenade Launcher toward the door, one of the Ultranauts sliced the durasteel door and he immediately fired as soon as it opened, instantly causing smoke to billow outward and fill the room. Smoke slowly spread out of the room, and he could hear intense coughing. The Ultranauts directly entered and fired, massacring the incapacitated security guards who failed in their ambush. Quickly gathering before the first security checkpoint's blast doors, Viktor entered and readied his Grenade Launcher once again.

 

[Lorelai Ventira]

|| Objective IIa (Infiltrate) ||

|| Location: Previous (Rooftops) | Current (With Loreena Arenais-Valhoun & Co) ||

|| Current Form: Jedi Knight Tess Valaar, Hand of Light Order ||

​

And there it was. Like a pulling at the edge of her awareness.

Lorelai rolled towards the edge of the roof, pausing on her stomach to peer down at the scene below, letting the Force guide her gaze. She had just enough time to squint away as the blinding orb of light filled the area, a clever move by the woman seemingly leading the protesters to safety. Clever, but desperate. She could feel the level of panic rise by the second, even as the hero wrenched open the sewer gate and began guiding people inside.

Lorelai crunched her candy between her teeth and smiled. “And now the fun begins.”

It was time.

The Shi’ido rolled onto her back, closed her eyes, and saluted her Emperor. Removing the two Jedi sabers at her hips, she pressed them close to her gut, where they were drawn into her body, her form reshaping over them as if nothing was there. And with the ease of nearly four hundred years of practice, her body rippled nauseatingly, and suddenly she was gone.

The tiny urban rodent in her place skittered over the side of the roof, clambering down pipes and scaling building walls with haste as it approached the action. Once or twice, it had to dodge shots that went too wide, squeaking in anger as it stuck as close to the shadows as possible.

It did not take long for a squad of Ultranauts to catch up to Loreena Arenais-Valhoun and her companions. "<Stop that group!>" the sergeant shouted.

High Nelvaanian. Right on time. Lor-Mouse paused, turning beady eyes towards the gathering wave of Ultranauts closing in on on the ‘civilian’ protesters.

And she waited. Waited for just that right moment…
A child screamed close below her perch.
There. That was it.

Lor-Mouse dropped from the pipe she’d been clinging to. It wasn’t far to the ground, her tail flailing in the air, a squeal of delight from her tiny animal lungs. With a plop, she landed a few feet from the child, curled up in a corner trying to avoid the stampede. The chaos was so complete, no one would notice the mouse flesh warp, stretch and grow in a matter of seconds, leaving a young pale woman in a simple grey ensemble crouched on the edge of the mass of terrified people, power in her limbs, goodness in her dark eyes.

A Jedi’s lightsaber in each hand.

It took her but a moment to summon the character she’d spent months crafting to the surface of her mind. Or, at least, the part of her Lorelai needed for her opening act. That kind, disgustingly selfless part, so certain they were doing the right thing that they couldn’t think ahead.

“Hey! C’mon!” Lorelai clipped her sabers to the holsters on her hips and scrambled towards the wailing teacup human, voice full of reassurance as she reached for him. “Kid! I got you, let’s go. I’ll get you out of here!”

He didn’t resist when she scooped him up, burying his face in her shoulder, his bloodied tunic smearing across her top as Lorelai forced her way through the throng of survivors with no mercy. Lor elbowed her way around the petrified, the wounded and aggressive alike, sights set on the woman at the front of the makeshift exit (Loreena).

And she let the concentrated emotions of the protesters and their rescuers wash over her, drown her, smother her darker soul enough to bring real life into the Jedi Knight she now wore as her own, this girl of the lightside, her driving need to make a difference, and that conviction in her heart. It would seep below the surface and fill her intentions, helped along and solidified by her species projection telepathy.

She would be…unquestionably who she told them she was, and no one else.

“Here!!” she yelled, nearing the leader and just the right amount of out of breath. “Please, take him, I think he’s hurt,” Lorelai met the woman’s eyes, her own brow furrowed in concern as she offered her the boy in her arms. “There are others, behind us, I’ll double back—”

"<Blast them!>"

The orders rang out in High Nelvaanian once more.

Lorelai knew what came next. “Go, c’mon, over here! Follow the others, stay together!!” she shouted at the protesters, gently waving them onwards through the sewer grate.

There was no time to waste. With the proper sense of duty in her expression, she gave the young woman a nod and released one of the lightsabers at her hip, viridian blade rising from the silver handle with a snap-hiss. “Lead them out! I can buy you some time, at least.” Lor bent a little, tenderly brushing the boy’s cheek, a tight smile on her lips, and tucked a red candy into the pocket of his bloodied tunic. “Keep moving, stay with her, don’t look back.”

Lorelai turned away, marching towards the battle, preparing herself for the defense of everything she 'used' to hate.
Sacrifices must be made, for the good of all.

|| Loreena Arenais-Valhoun || Wulf Orlock || Kalic Daws || Cero Pax ||

​

 

[Broka the Hutt]

The Grand Admiral's suspicion of Broka's motives was perceived by the great Hutt. It was quite wise of the Imperial to not trust him outright given his people's reputation across the galaxy. As the protocol droid translated the Grand Admiral's response, Broka was pleased (yet made no expression of such). With such a "demonstration" encouraged by the Grand Admiral, this would be the means of ensuring free passage for his forces to and from the planet's surface. The lawfulness of the Imperials was also encouraging, as it showed they would most likely uphold their end of the bargain. However, Broka knows his actions to move to this territory in the middle of the Unknown Regions was risky due to him being on the opposite side of the galaxy from his home and stronghold(s) in Hutt Space.

His response in Huttese was then such; "< With this request I safely assume my forces have free passage from the planet's surface to my ship? If so, the marking of my Kajiedic as well as the marking of Black Sun on them should allow easy recognition from your fleet. Also, with this possible free passage, would the idea of my forces putting down violent protests from the locals in order as well? Such uprisings could prove detrimental to the efforts initiated by these negotiations' possible success. What do you say of this, Grand Admiral?>"
The protocol droid then translates the following response in High Nelvaanian to the Grand Admiral.

With the negotiatinos so far are going without a hitch, Broka now needs to think of the future with the Imperials if this deal goes well. His ambition of bringing back the Hutt Cartel may be threatened by the Empire's ambitions of galactic conquest. However, such details must wait as the deal has not finished yet. Thus, the "young" Hutt continues sitting on his throne, and awaits the Grand Admiral's response.

Tiberius Bayne

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

One of the officers pointed up and reported something to the Fieldmarshall, who quickly snapped back a few orders. Up above, one of the dropships was diving towards the square, Leigh and her companion inside it. It did not take long for the Imperials to issue a challenge. "<Dropship, identify yourself and state your assigned orders,>" came the message in the cold, harsh voice of an Imperial officer.

Na'an was already moving fast inside the shuttle. As a dropship normally meant for soldiers, it was host to spare armor pieces, including the red-eyed, tube-faced helmets of the Ultranaut Corps; she grabbed at one with one hand and jammed it on, flicking the audio filter on before picking up the comm again.
"Support for the delegation, but we've got a malfunction," she said, thanking the gods the filter garbled her voice to the point of unrecognizability. "Landing now to rejoin the main battalion. Don't, uh, don't mind us, we can manage. Over."

That taken care of, she set the landing protocols and headed back into the shuttle's belly. She only had a few seconds with Leigh to debrief before they touched down, and already they were in way over their heads. From the portholes, she could see massive groups of soldiers marching in formation, chasing equally large groups of civilians and seemingly firing at random. The sick feeling redoubled in her gut as she turned away, just barely catching the sight of an older woman pitching forward onto her face, onto the parcel she was clutching as desperately as a--

the younglings, the younglings, the younglings--

"Whatever we're doing, I don't think you'll be able to get away with this if you get caught." she said in a rush. "You're too recognizeable, and I doubt we can fit a helmet over your fat head. So. What's the plan?"

With that, Na'an simply waited for the droid to respond, her expression somehow expectant even through the mask. In the meantime, she pulled out her shoto and fiddled with it, desperately trying to distract herself from the screams she could now hear as well as feel. It wouldn't do to have the crystal fall out the bottom of her weapon right when she'd need it to block blasterfire.

Wulf Orlock | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun | Lorelai Ventira | Adelle Bastiel | Kalic Daws | LE-03 (Leigh)​

 

[Tiberius Bayne]

Post #7 (Tacitus Alt)
Attn: Broka the Hutt || Fimrati Vailyippin​

It did not take the Grand Admiral long to deduce that the Hutt wanted his band of ruffians and ne'er'do'wells to be granted passage to Bakura for reasons more than just to take out a few rebel safehouses. The offer to assist in putting down the protesters also served a different purpose, the Hutts never did anything out of the goodness of their slimy little hearts, it just wasn't in their nature. Then again, it wasn't in the nature of any species or culture in the galaxy, regardless of pretense to the contrary. The Eternal Empire understood that better than most.

So, it was a trade-off. A question of whether or not this intel was worth the crime problems that were sure to arise from allowing the Hutts access to the planet. Well, the Bakurans did bring it upon themselves, with their defiant acts. And the Imperial government could deal with any crime-related issues, its particularly brutal and ruthless methods proving effective in accomplishing just that, time and time again. Bakura would prove no different. "<Very well,>" the Grand Admiral replied in High Nelvaanian. "<The Empire finds this compromise acceptable.>"

Tapping a few buttons on his datapad, the Grand Admiral conveyed his orders to the rest of the fleet, informing them that the Hutt's men were to be allowed to pass through the blockade unharmed.

"<Now,>" he continued. "<Regarding the protesters, the Eternal Army already has that situation under control,>" the Grand Admiral said. "<However, we have received reports that with the aid of rebels, several protesters have escaped from the main square, likely into the sewers,>" explained Bayne. "<Our men are soldiers, not ruffians and sewer rats. While we have full confidence that those rebels and ruffians would be apprehended and brought to justice, eventually, we would prefer it that they are captured in more... expedient time,>" the man spoke in a businesslike tone. "<Should your men assist the Empire in the capture of these degenerate anarchists, the Imperial government would be more than willing to offer you a significant reward for every captured rebel.>"

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

​

"Whatever we're doing, I don't think you'll be able to get away with this if you get caught." she said in a rush. "You're too recognizeable, and I doubt we can fit a helmet over your fat head. So. What's the plan?"

"You are correct. A helmet would not fit over my fat head, and would do no good even if it did."

Leigh was spinning multiple protocols at once as the ship started to settle in a side street. Her cannon, rarely used in the last few years, required a quick re-cycle to power up to proper capacity, then a second to ensure the settings were on sonic fire rather than the blaster or flamethrower. She was also bringing up a map of Bakura's capital, orienting their position using her internal GPS and overlaying the visuals they had seen while landing.

"I need to remain unseen if we are to escape this unscathed," she said absently. At this point, speaking the results of her calculations out loud for Na'an was just accepted protocol between them. "Meaning we will have to separate. Your excuse to the commander will buy us limited time, as it comes with the expectation that we will both be returning to their sides shortly. As a result, first we have to break that pretense, then plot opposite courses."

She set the parameters against the map.

"I am assuming our priority is the safety of the citizens over the neutralization of hostiles, as fighting too aggressively risks exposure. Given your ability to disguise yourself, you will be taking the more visible position this time, while I move directly to supporting the protestors on the ground. There is a inter-city tramway approximately half a mile from this point; It will be my objective to get as many noncombatants there as possible."

The parameters shifted one more time; Leigh's dome sparked to life, displaying two sets of coordinates.

"We lie to the commander, stating we have been overrun. This may force them to split forces and send unnecessary troops here. You head towards the main battalion. Fight defensively, with a focus on taking out large arms with your shoto over head-to-head combat. I will head in the opposite direction, towards the last known location of the main protest body. If either of us encounter Healer Bastiel, secure her services to establish secure communications. Pending unseen circumstances--such as you acting out of plan--our success is within reasonable parameters."

Her partner nodded once; then, with a slap of her hand on Leigh's cannon, she was already opening the comms, screaming something about "mayday, mayday, we've been overrun, oh god there's so many, that one's got a gun, aaaaaaaaah" into the receiver before punching it hard enough to crack the screen. In seconds they were both racing away from the now-empty shuttle--Na'an sprinting headlong towards Fieldmarshal Orlock's main position with shoto in hand, Leigh taking sidestreets to make her way towards where Loreena Aranais and her people entered the sewers.

It did not take long for her to catch up.

Wulf Orlock | Vidalu Na'an | Lorelai Ventira | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun | Kalic Daws | Adelle Bastiel​

 

[Broka the Hutt]

As the Grand Admiral's response, and proposal, was translated into Huttese, Broka was stoically joyed. His plan was coming to fruition. With his forces able to have free passage to Bakura, at least during this invasion, his plan of selling the information to the Imperials, while also gaining influence in the Unknown Regions, was coming to fruition.

So, in Huttese, he responded, "< This is good. I assumed such measures were taken with protesters as of now with how I assumed the Imperials act accordingly to such uprisings. Now, some of my forces may bolster the numbers of the riot control when needed in order to show the worth of Black Sun to the Empire. Speaking of which, your proposal is adequate considering the basics of the job description. If I were to send a few bounty hunters into the sewers of the city you requested, I would like to know what the reward would be for these hunters. Also, with you making the clearance for my forces, I shall dispatch a few transport craft to the surface with some of my enforcers to one of the locations momentarily.>" As soon as he finished making that remark in his response, with a wave of his hand, he motions to one of the guards in the room to alert some men, as well as ship crews, for the that job at hand. That guard then nodded their head, and left the chamber into the nearby corridor to do the duty assigned to him.

As soon as he issues that command, the protocol droid then translates Broka's response into High Nelvaanian.

Then, after the droid finished translating to the Grand Admiral, Broka then motions to a Twi'lek servant girl to bring him some refreshments and food, yet also says (again in Huttese), "<If you would like to negotiate possible prices for the information I offer, I would like to state that due to the means we obtained this information from a lesser gang on Nar-Shaddaa, and the possible dangers of me and my high officers traveling this far from our base of operations in Hutt Space, this information will be in the tens-of-thousands at least. Yet, I see my meal approaching. A true Hutt is always a good host to their counterpart in these kinds of meetings. Would you care for anything, Grand Admiral? My servants are rather quck with their service, and never fail orders - I make sure of that.>"

After Broka finished saying the last part, the protocol droid then translates his master's words to High Nelvaanian for the Grand Admiral. Then, as the protocol droid finished translating, the servant girl returns to Broka's throne pushing a tray that held a bottle of fine Alderaanian wine, and also had a large, deep, water-filled, glass bowl that contained several squirming eels. Upon seeing the tray approaching, Broka briefly licks his lips, and when this tray arrives adjacent to his throne, Broka immediately reaches into the bowl, and grabs an eel. The eel squirms vigorously in the Hutts stubby, yet firm, grasp. Then, with a loud slurp, and swallow, the massive Hutt swallows the eel whole while reaching for the wine to drink straight from the bottle. The look of semi-stoic satisfaction then displays on his face after the first reach of portions. The water-like liquid drivels down Broka's several chins, and drip from his stubby fingers from his left hand (the hand he used to grab the eels from the bowl). While Broka waits for his Imperial guest's reply to the offer of hospitality, and his recent proposal of price for the bargain, Broka continues to gluttonously feast on the eels and wine, which both items appear to be in an abundance no other species can match in individual consumption.

Tiberius Bayne Fimrati Vailyippin

 

[Fimrati Vailyippin]

Attn: Broka the Hutt | Tiberius Bayne

Location: Salis D'aar | Northern end of the city
​

As she sad there reading the pad, she tilted her head as the sounds of gunfire and screans, death and the like begin to reach this part of the city. It was still some time off, but people were starting to pause and look in that direction. As she considered the implications of this, her comm unit beeped. Checking the signal source, she answered it. "Yeah, still here. Oh, you'll be delayed? I'm guessing the roads are blocked by the protesters? Ah, yeah, I figured I'd go with the meat option. Alright. Thanks for the heads up." She said, ending the call and refocusing her face on the safehouse. There was more of the Hutts troops on the way, now that the Imperials were giving them access.

But the call was meat. She was to wipe out this safehouse. And rather than just level it, that wouldn't do, leaving a trail of death was more effective a warning. Especially as anyone coming in afterwards would see just how brutally efficient it would be done. Standing up, she put the pad down besides her on the bench. It was a disposable unit anyways, bought with hard credits instead of via a card. Putting her hands in her pockets, she started walking towards the safe house as people began to become much more active in and out of it. At a glance, she was just another random person moving to the building in question. 3 story, ground floor was a house as opposed to a store on this street, so less visible on the interior. But that was fine. Besides, she was sure the Hutt had at least someone with eyes on this safehouse besides herself to serve as a set of eyes for whoever he was dealing with.

Reaching the bush lining the house's front yard, she reached in, and pulled her carbine out of it's disguised case, bringing the weapon to her shoulder, quickly snapping it to one of the ones she'd positively IDed as one of the rebels. With a stroke on the trigger, the blaster carbine barked it's cry as the bolt slammed home into the man's chest, knocking him off his feet onto the ground with a ugly chest wound. As people paused to try and figure out what was happening, she was already shifting aim to the next target, and stroking the trigger again, firing a second blast. He went down. Without slowing down, she jogged up the stairs, most people around the safehouse screaming as they realized what was happening and starting to run. Those who weren't, simply made themselves clearly targets to her.

Kicking in the door so as to get cover before she got shot, she quickly connected the strap on her carbine to the clip hidden under her coat, letting her harness rig move the weight to her shoulders and lower back as she drew both of her ZJ-15's and turned on the under barrel mounted aiming devices, all in a sweeping series of movements. First man coming up, basic combat vest and still struggling to get the blaster rifle in his hands ready as he rushed towards the door, only to freeze as the pair of pistols entered his view. The cough of each one firing was overpowered by the sound of the metal casings hitting the ground as the weapons ejected the empty cases housing the slugthrower rounds propellant it used. The man fell forward, two holes in the front of his head merging into a larger single oblong hole in the back of it... And the smell of blood tainting the air as she moved to the first room on her right. Her work had begun, and she was in her element. Outnumbered, but on the attack and with all the elements of surprise on her side.

 

[Mythos]

The Glory of Gold was something all in Bakura would flock to, even under attack and in turmoil something like gold was unifying in its unique way. After one Galactic Day the massive undertaking was prepared in such a way that Mythos finally was in the ground behind the massive rugs and tailored walls of his tent.

His was a tent that dwarfed all others, surrounded by various para military groups for security like the NSF, The Molok and The Marinos. The central peice of the Bazaar was also bathed in gold, songsteel, ultrachrome and chromium bathed steel to reflect the opulence of its host. People of all kinds gathered around it's many markets and stands where the highest caliber of merchants made their stands. The most expensive lots were reserved for those closest to Mythos' tent, each one had their own brand of produce and their products were chosen to be the best to show off.

"If you wish for wine then come and dine! If you wish for pelts or weapons then you have also come to the right place! The Golden Caravan is here and brings food and meats to redden your face!"

The Warlord sang an old tune from the north, he was surrounded by the merchants, peasants and lords alike, He sat on a throne of furs and wine bottles, was dressed in the finest silks and embroidered jewels encrusted into the fabric.

His strategy for conquest this time was leagues different than his imperial compatriots. He sat in the middle of the people, he conversed with all kinds of beings, from all walks of life. Mythos began to learn of the people of Bakura, of their culture, of their specific worries and needs. In return they treated him like a Prophet of Good News, they bathed him in compliments and tributes, they shared their stories and tribulations.

By night time fires and torches as well as flood lights bathed the Bazaar, it was buzzing with night life and soon Mythos' tent became filled with the finer sex.

The Bazaar still needed more time to fully settle in, it would take months to finalize the project. The Baazar however had a life of it's own, the Bakurans quickly made it their own and their own culture began re shaping the Bazaar in their image.

​

 

[Vyra Silara]

"<Now, let us set forth, let us descend to Bakura so that we may raise the flag of the Eternal Empire, the crimson flag of Infinite Conquest over this broken world, to undo the disastrous imbalance into which it has fallen and restore the natural order it so desperately needs. Long live the Empire,>" the Sith Lord concluded ominously. Casting one last glance at the assembled soldiers, officials and a slightly longer one at his fiancé, he strode forward boldly, boarding the first dropship with his Wolfguards, stopping only to hold out a taloned hand for her to grip.

Long live the Empire…

Vyra unclenched her aching jaw and relaxed her fisted hands only long enough to take Kainan’s hand and make her way into the dropship, offering him a tight smile as she passed, though it didn’t reach her eyes. It was all she could manage right now, his words of conquest and crimson wrath sitting like spoiled food in her stomach. She knew how the Eternal Empire brought ‘enlightenment’. She knew what lengths they’d go to in their quest for victory, not just here on Bakura, but everywhere else.

And Kainan knew how she felt about it.

The worst of her silent, isolated pain was that she knew, somewhere under that cold uniform and scarred exterior, there was a small part of him that shared her horror at the words and actions he claimed he had to use to keep the future of billions alive.

But this was not the time to pick at that particular scab. She’d been scraping at it gently for months. Right now, the people of Bakura needed her far more than the struggling seed of goodness in the Emperor’s soul.

And she would do what she could to soften this horrible blow, this gunboat diplomacy.

|| Kainan Wolfe ||

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

Post #8
Attn: Anton Delane || Vyra Silara || Ilsa Visel || Carter Tymon || Open​

For a second, there, as she took his hand, her eyes connected with his. He saw the smile on her face, but knew it wasn't what she felt, he could see it in her eyes, knew it was something she put up for the sake of maintaining appearances and troop morale, something he himself had done more times than he could count. As he helped her climb aboard the ship, he gave her hand a gentle, comforting squeeze, a subtle gesture, imperceptible to onlookers, to let her know that he understood the turmoil in her heart. And that she didn't have to carry this burden alone.

As the dropship's doors slid shut, both of their datapads flashed with reports from the ground. His eyes scanning the pixelated text on the device's screen, a kind of darkness settled on his visage, a hint of wrath. The protesters had opened fire on the Ultranauts, ambushed them with rockets. The report mentioned that the Empire's response was swift and efficient as per standard protocol, then brought up an estimated number of casualties ranging in the thousands. The vast majority of them, belonged to the 'unarmed hostiles' category. A sigh escaped his lips, drowned out by the sound of the roaring engines. This was disappointing, but not unexpected. When faced with a choice between hard and necessary change for the sake of the future and the easy path that led to immediate satisfaction, disregarding what consequences such a path would lead to, the masses almost always chose the same thing. They almost always chose to defend the corruption, always wishing to kick the problem down the line in hope that someone else would take care of it, when the consequences of that corruption finally caught up to them.

With such soft, weak people, it was always the same thing. Always 'by the time it becomes a problem, I won't be alive to deal with it anyway', or 'I'm not qualified to deal with this problem, hopefully some Jedi will fix it when the time comes'. And thus, almost all of the galaxy's problems boiled down to procrastination, laziness and an unwillingness to sacrifice some of that instant gratification for the sake of building a better future. So many calamities in the galaxy's history, could have been averted, if only people took some damned responsibility over the way they lived their lives.

Well, then. If people can't temper their unearned freedoms with responsibility, then those freedoms would be taken away from them. The entire galaxy had shirked its responsibilities for long enough. No more.

From now on, doing one's duty to society, to future generations, would no longer be optional.

He looked up at Vyra with steel in his eyes. "You play good cop," he said to her, not a hint of humor in his voice. He left the rest unsaid.