Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Heavy Metal Abraham Lincoln [Black Sun Dominion of Sleheyron]

Four score and several thousand years ago the Hutt's brought forth on this world, a new Empire, conceived for Slavery, and dedicated to the proposition that all profits were theirs. - Anonymous

Ships of sizes great and small loomed over the planet of Sleheyron . The fleets and armies had been recalled from hiding in the fringes. This world of industrial might was built and operated by the legions of slaves the Hutts had used since days of old. And since they refused to listen to reason; and rebuked the offer given to submit to Black Sun. A battle must be fought to assert dominance and force the leaders to submit, or die. The emancipation of Sleheyron was to be written in blood. So shall it be known.

"All commanders, you know your targets and what to do. We're here to free this world and bring it inside the blanket. Civilians and slaves are not the enemy, but the leaders and armed forces. Keep infrastructure intact, and do not hit those refineries. Begin operations, best of luck". Cypher looked up and out the hanger doors. Squadrons of fighters apart of the first wave swept by. They needed to leave now too. The Underloord took a sweeping step to turn about and hopped up on to a gunship. The door slid shut and he was off the the surface to fight towards the palace.

Objectives:
1) Hutt Palace.
2) Large Tibanna Refinery
 
Hell Hath no fury like Danger scorned; and this particular bit of Hutt slime was about to reap a whole new definition of pain. Now slavery ain't one of the big issues the Arceneau holds in disdain; born and bred on Tatooine and dealin' with Ryloth makes it a rather typical show out in the Outer Rim. Just was and is.

But once you cross the realm of the women and men companions housed in Danger's Oirian House, you looking at a whole 'nuther kind of world. And in Danger's words, a Companion is not a 'hore.

Word had it down the Mara line that one such Hutt in particular got to thinkin one was; and there ain't no Force nor Void in the 'verse that could quell Danger's rage once word got 'round of one of her own being treated just like that.

And this broad came in with full artillery. She had every intention of making this known up and down the Mara just what happened when one dared to harm one of her own.

And her fury came with a mighty iron fist as favor upon favor was called upon. She'll have that Hutt's head on a silver plate by day's end. Then turn a profit with his property and a percentage of his factories too.
 
A figure in a CIS Army Jacket with a heavy vest, cargo pants, combat boots, and the distinct silhouette of a suppressed rifle shown on the wall behind him. Card moved along the wall of a store in the city where the Hutt was located. From what he'd heard the Hutt was supposedly the grand poba of Slehyron, and a slave holding tyrant from what it seemed. That caused Card to chuckle. Reminded him of the people who'd formerly held his chains. Now Montag was no saint, he'd killed countless for his country, and very recently a few civilians for money, but he was all about anarchy.

Total freedom.

Well, of late. The voices had suddenly became laser specific about what ideologies he was to follow. He'd even gotten a tattoo to commemorate it. He had a few plans, plans that needed money, so he found himself working as a merc for the Black Suns. The old soldier couldn't lie, it felt right to be crouching along a wall in some poodoo hole city on some backwater planet with a rifle in his hand and a squad behind him.

"Card in position." He keyed to @[member="Cypher"] as he waited along the low wall for a signal.
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
The pleasure yacht known as the Garden of Unending Delights settled down not far from the Hutt palace. The risk of friendly fire and ire notwithstanding, Rasho the Hutt slitherwaddled his way through the outskirts of the palace. An aura of fear and anger hung over the place. Enforcers were everywhere. @[member="Cypher"] would be here soon, but in the meantime, Rasho, as a Hutt, could get in. He'd hired @[member="Kable Detta"], @[member="Maya Whitelight"], and @[member="Nolan Detta"], soldiers of fortune and well-decorated Mandalorians, to come along for the ride, for when things got nasty.

And things would most assuredly get nasty.

His gaze lingered on several sumptuous slave girls, but he was a businesslike sort of Hutt. He pressed on toward the well-guarded front doors, where he might or might not be allowed through with the Detta brothers and the eye candy Mando. The Candylorian, perhaps.

Rasho chuckled loud enough to break eardrums.
 
@[member="Rasho the Hutt"]

Slavery, how quaint. Archaic in a Galaxy as technologically advanced as this one except on fringe worlds - fringe in terms of geography, no slight against the Fringe Confederation, since it was one of the galactic powers Moira found herself approving of due to its efforts to topple Star Peace. The Age of Steel would dispense with it, by turning every organic into paper clips. Not that Moira disapproved of it in moral terms, for she was utterly incapable of thinking in moral terms. It was just inefficient.

But there was profit to be had and so she had joined this venture. Once upon a time, so many years ago a human Moira had actually been a slaver and space pirate, before Republic Intelligence gave her an offer she could not refuse and she sold out her comrades, whose leader had admittedly been an overdramatic fool. She had done work for the Republic, like that little incident involving terrorist bombings and sending revolutionaries to their deaths on Contruum.

A Dominus-class starfighter, acquired during a Rebel raid on Styx during the Empire's collapse steered towards the outskirts of the palace where the Garden of Unending Delight had touched down. Moira had business to discuss, probably a sizeable number of organics to terminate. There were so many who had not yet been turned into paper clips.
 
Nolan followed the Hutt around the palace, Kath Hound in his arms. He was hired along with his brother @[member="Kable Detta"] to guard the Hutt and take down some slavers. With the money all but in the bank, Nolan just had to ensure that no one from their party got hurt, or at least didn't die.

As he passed the cackle of beautiful woman, Nolan gave a two finger salute, Ladies

@[member="Rasho the Hutt"] @[member="Tamara Lynn"]
 
Kable walked with his brother behind Rasho. They had been hired for security for the Hutt. Sure the money was good, but to Kable, the real payment was to put the hurt on some slavers.

His black Beskar'gam made him look ominous, even without his weaponry. He sported his usual armament. His Beskad was sheathed on his back next to his jetpack. A heavy blaster was strapped to his thigh and he held his L3 River Rifle in his hands. A bandoleer across his chest held his 12 grenades. For safety.
@[member="Nolan Detta "]@[member="Rasho the Hutt"]
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
HUTT PALACE
@[member="Cypher"] en route

@[member="Nolan Detta "]@[member="Kable Detta"] @[member="Moira Skaldi"] @[member="Maya Whitelight"]

The Detta brothers were Rasho's calling card today. Not many people denied a Hutt Lord entrance, even one so young and minor as Rasho. Fewer still denied him entrance with Mandalorians watching his back. The immense doors opened, and the massed Weequays, Gamorreans, Nikto, Gran, and suchlike sentients got out of the way. The Twi'lek slave girls, being slave girls and generally oppressed, continued being oppressed, and more than a little dejected, despite the jauntiness of Nolan's wave.

A wide staircase bent left as it rose into smoky heights. Up there waited the Hutt Lords...or a trap.
 
@[member="Rasho the Hutt"]

Soft footsteps on the ground as she walked through the entrance to the palace. If the local thugs knew what was good for them they would stay away from her starfighter - she really liked it - but then Moira was quite good at giving off don't mess with me vibes, even for those who did not know her true nature, that of a human replica droid.

Something about her inhumane precision, impassive expression, those piercing eyes that seemed like they looked upon almost every sentient being as an insect, an object of study. More to the point she was heavily armed, the boltgun and the Sith chainsword were as good an argument as any for the mass of thugs and low-life to part and give her way, though no doubt they kept their eyes trained on her, but then she was the sort to expect betrayal, it was the outcome of all things. As for the Twi'lek slave girls, she paid them no mind. For Moira had no interest in organic reproductive rituals. She was not programmed to experience desire, after all. It all seemed terribly wasteful and distracting to her.

"Rasho the Hutt, I presume," she said softly as she linked up. Oh, the Hutt Dark Master knew she was coming, transmissions had been exchanged, calls made and so on and so forth, all neatly filed. Well, probably not filed, but you get the point.
 
Couldn't help herself but nod at both of the brothers, but one like she wasn't going to go goo goo over them, yes they was nice very nice looking. Playing back as she had grin, nothing more then that before. They had landed, before doing so she had disappeared, from her little outfit before now where her full armor, with one a pistrol on one hip, just two plain throwing knifes then there was her leather shoulder herbal bag. It look as she step off of a planet that didn't know anything about the galaxy. In her hair was where her hidden weapon was there it would stay clipped to her air, with jewels around the handle of it.
ww1-1.jpg

Coming up behind what look to her to be twins, brothers if she had to guess. Smiling all the same, it what she kept hidden inside of her, that matter the most, she didn't like the fact that there was slavers around her now. They to her was the filth of the galaxy. Playing her part of the plan only to see where it would be taking her on this journey. Careful to hide what laid asleep deep with in her, only if she need to she would call upon the warrior within. Well, sweet cheeks lets get the show on the road, lovelies.
@[member="Danger Arceneau"]@[member="Moira Skaldi"]@[member="Rasho the Hutt"]@[member="Kable Detta"]@Nolan Detta
 
Hundreds of gunships descended on the planet, along with larger transports to bring in heavy vehicles and artillery. Their forces split one they came low in the atmosphere. One heading to the city and Palace to secure it, and the other to the refineries to capture them intact. These Hutts were in for a butt whooping today.

Cyphers Gunship touched down roughly two clicks east of the palace, close as they could get now that there was AA defense finally firing to keep him away. @[member="Rasho the Hutt"] and his Commando's had slipped in before the defenses came live though. If they were successful in forcing the leaders surrender; by words or the sword. Sleheyron would quickly fall with little effort. Break the leaders you will most likely break the will of their servants. Until he head word of course fighting towards the Palace and all other targets would continue heavily. Cypher jumped from his ride to the brown earth. And blaster fire was already being exchanged. Swiftly he drew his twin pistols and joined the fray. Deadly well aimed shots penetrated his foes flesh, howls of pain bellowed as they slumped to the ground. "Push forward, victory will come before days end"! Black Sun forces headed off down the street, continuing to shoot anything that shot back. Casualties were very minimal so far.

@[member="Montag Card"], who was this guy again comming him. Right that ex-Confed. Not a lot of trust in the guy considering his old position and newness. Cypher would of course politely chime back with orders. "Right Card, proceed with the forces to the Refineries". Blaster fire and explosions could be heard over the communications link between the two, and the thunder of @[member="Danger Arceneau"]'s artillery. Best it not be blowing up anything valuable. His wallet had a strange hurting feeling. No time of course for that kind of pain, he was avoiding all to many kinds of others. Things were getting heavy.
 
...the roar of artillery was deafening, as it almost always was, but Ordan stood in the background with a fat, rounded, death stick stuffed into the corner of his mouth its end brightening as he inhaled and rolled it to one side. He could appreciate the use of artillery and the desire to pound the enemy into submission via attrition or sheer destructive might however he had a soft spot for being able to get his hands dirty too. Watching on he'd have stood there dressed in a heavy, black, overcoat cast overtop the armor weave that covered him underneath it. Never one to come without his own party favors Ordan actually boasted a Heavy Blaster Pistol hidden out of sight as well as a much more intimidating TTT-54 Grenade Launcher affectionately refereed to as the Thumper which he'd lift and support back over his shoulder for ease of convenience. He looked into the distance, watching, as the artillery fire trying to see beyond towards the Hutt's Palace which was being bombarded by what amounted to the wrath of Danger Arceneau...

...when Ordan finally stepped away from his position it was to find his employer, he'd search her out wherever she was, and while it was to early to make any kind of real report he'd have stated..."
Big guns are making quite the bang over the horizon. Don't figure it'll be to long before we can move in."...he'd take the death stick out of his mouth after he'd said that and exhale a breath. He didn't indulge all the time but it was a vice he could afford to dip into at his leisure. "Lot of comms chatter."...he'd have commented..."Black Sun seems to be doing a lot of the heavy lifting in the streets."...Ordan didn't mind standing back and bombarding away from danger however he wondered if Danger didn't have some other objective as well; clearly she didn't care for this one Hutt in particular however there might have been something else to do while their allies rushed ahead. He'd do what he was told either way...
@[member="Danger Arceneau"]​
 
"The white zone is for immediate loading only, there is no stopping in the red zone." The male announcer's smooth voice rang throughout the Pellaeon's busy hanger soon followed by a lady repeating the same message. "The white zone is is for immediate loading only, there is no stopping in the red zone." Someone had apparently decided that this needed to be announced incessantly for the soldiers brought aboard for this operation, just in case they forgot it in the five seconds since they last heard it. In front of her, lines of soldiers loaded onto the Revelations, double the usual compliment after the destroyer had been stripped of its shuttles. At the far end of the hanger the tanks and walkers had already been loaded onto their barges and were ready to go. "The white zone is for immediate loading only, there is no stopping in the red zone." Aaaand. "The white zone is is for immediate loading only, there is no stopping in the red zone." Yippee.

Domino would be leading this company down on Sleheyron, Cypher wanted his refineries. Of course that had to take them intact which meant nasty close fighting. The way the Twi'lek saw it, the defenders had the home field advantage and maybe numbers as well, the Suns had better equipment, training, and resolve as well as air support. They'd both fight dirty using every trick in the book, the Black Suns just had a bigger book. "The red zone is for immediate loading only, there is no stopping in the white zone." Wait what? "No, the white zone is for loading and there's no stopping in the red zone." Whatever, as soon as the men were loaded they'd take off and the Kirtoks would escort them down and stay as heavy cover since the Revelations couldn't drop their mines without doing a good bit of damage. Might have been a design oversight there.

"The red zone has always been for loading. There is never stopping in a white zone." Hoo boy, were they really going to do this over the hanger PA? "Don't tell me which zone is for stopping and which zone is for loading!" Looking around, nobody seemed to have taken any notice. "Listen Betty, don't start with your white zone shit again. There's just no stopping in a white zone!" Oh Goddess, poking a liutenant with a clipboard out of her way, Domino boarded the gunship that would take her down. "Oh really Vernon? Why pretend? We both know perfectly well what it is you're talking about. You want me to have an abortion." Crap, she could still hear them going at it. "It's really the only sensible thing to do if it's done properly. Therapeutically there's no danger involved." Finally the hatches sealed shut and cut them off before it had a chance to get any worse. A few minutes later and they were airborne and leaving the hanger.

Bickering dialog borrowed from Airplane.
 
"Patch me into a [member="Danger Arceneau"], I'm here for her contract." A tall dark figure stood outside of one particular Hutts temple. In truth it was the Zabrak Krest, but for this mission, this contract he decided to wear an outfit that would not only modify his voice, but hid his identity. There was no reason for those he cared about to watch him work. He carried with him a basic red lightsaber, for now off and on his hip. His droid companion he left on his ship spoke quickly, though the voice itself was more beeps then anything else. At this point he would be connected to Danger.

Though he wasn't alone of course. A lone sentry had confronted him on his approached to the temple, but the Gamorian quickly learned how bad of an idea it was. He floated in the air, his throat slowly being crushed. Krest had a hand up, the Force flowing through him. He had heard this was suppose to be a brutal assignment, but he wanted to be sure first.

"Make sure it's encrypted."
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
HUTT PALACE
[member="Cypher"] en route

[member="Nolan Detta "][member="Kable Detta"] [member="Moira Skaldi"] [member="Maya Whitelight"]

The long curving staircase terminated in a great hall to top all great halls. This was the sort of place where multiple Hutt Lords held court, ate, accepted entertainment as was their due. But as Rasho approached, the door slammed shut, and alarms blared throughout the building. The bleat of air-raid sirens trickled in through the windows.

The slave lords had gone into lockdown mode to deal with the Black Sun threat. But would they go all paranoid on Rasho, or would their attention be elsewhere?
 
Nolan unslung his Kath Hound and chambered a shell. He moved up in front of the Hutt to create a barrier. He started scanning the area for threats and targets.

Kable take left, I'll take right. Keep your eyes open. We got innocents, so check your targets.

[member="Kable Detta"] [member="Rasho the Hutt"]
 
[member="Krest"] [member="Ordan Vosk"] and all of Danger's contracted Merc's.

The encrypted message was patched through. Soon, a dark figure bloomed upon Danger's holo emitter.

"Glad you could make it," came her husky purr, her eyes glittering with a need for vengeance and blood. "If you are accepting my contract, then here are the details. Make it a public as possible." she told him.

"I want the entire Mara Corridor to know what happens when one harms a hair one me and mine." there was no swaying the buxom woman. She wanted a blood price.

"I want that slug skinned alive. Wreck his Palace; the Suns have other desires in mind, what with securing the slaves and the goods... but for me... get that Hutt. The securing of the Tibanna mines will come after."

Vengeance, after all is a dish best served cold.
 
Krest, in his disguised outfit, only offered a nod to [member="Danger Arceneau"] . Her words made it clear on what he was to do next. The Gamorian he was currently chocking to near death was dropped, gasping for breath on all fours. His clumsy hands gripped at his throat, as if to try and pull away any remnants of the choke. But there was nothing to be found, so he looked up, only to see the Zabrak crouched down in front of him. A clawed hand shot out, gripping the pigs throat once more, the blades digging into the sides of his neck.

"Where is the Hutt." Krest voice was heavily distorted, sounding more like three pitches mixed together at the same time. The pig squealed, pointing into the temple itself. "<Main chamber! Mai->" His voice was cut off by a sickening crunch, and he dropped to the ground lifeless. His throat was crushed by the Zabrak, who was busy flicking the blood from his hand. What a gruesome job, but a job none the less. He was never a fan of slavers, making the concept of it all that much easier.

Well. Now it was to begin.
 

Maarah

Guest
M
Enroute to the Refineries with her pirate crew

A job is a job that's a job.

This job was a fun one; securing the Tibanna Factories for Black Sun and Arceneau. A toothy grin went spreading like that of a Nexu's over the Felacatian's face, thick goggles covering her wide orange eyes as the small fleet of airspeeders dashed towards the direction of the first refinery.

They were an odd bunch; the Star Wolves, born and bred to fight under Ironwolf's mantle. With him gone, it was up to those who were left to do what needed to be doing, and honoring Ironwolf's contract with Arceneau was one of them. Hell, it got them paid and they got to wreck things. Life was good.

Dust picked up behind the dozen or so armed speeders as the pirates gave a whoop, their arms pumping with their weapons. They were told to secure the refineries... the how of it all was gonna be their way.
 

Lex Matako

Smuggler and Infochant on the Side
[member="Domino"]
Providing air support for the Revelations with the Kirtoks

The tramp freighter Lady Luck joined the escorts of Kirtoks as the squadrons of Revelations left the hangars and entered space. Aboard the ship the Nautolan smuggler captain sat in his chair, watching consoles and the movements of ships through the viewport, a glass of blue milk was in the cup holder nearby his chair because one could never had enough calcium in the dark depths of space.
"This is Capatain Matako speaking, Lady Luck is in position for escort support."
The Nautolan sounded off through the Suns' communication channels.

He would smile to himself, finally some action to be had, dog fighting and flames of battles, ships going boom and laser going pew-pew, he didn't had enough fighting and excitements in his life, it would be a nice change of pace from usual desk jobs or negotiations he was assigned to as an accountant-turned-smuggler.
 

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