Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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HellShock Bar

Perhap taking that drink back after leaving that zombie infested hell hole of a planet before it was nuked wasn't the best idea, but what the hell. Kurenai had several hundred years to get over it, just had been so long she she had taken a stiff drink, last time being before getting married. Now here she was in some underground bar on some planet somewhere drinking her heart out, question was how did wind up here?

If her fuzzy memory was anything to go off of had something to do with mother or what not, a new lead or whatever coming up about her location that lead the veteran mercenary down here. Then alcohol, next thing she knew Kurenai was at a back booth taking shots and arm wrestling people, winning quite a few rounds too, disregarding that Wookie and a few others.

"Now I know why Kiso drinks all the time, this chit is great, why in the force did I stop drinking anyways" she hollered to no on in particular. This was just the right buzz to make her feel alive again, battle field after battlefield, nah not interesting, fighting, got old, talking with people, meh not her thing. Though this, now this was something she could get behind, even if it was in a sense more difficult then just talking with people normally.

[member="Razelle Breuner"]
 
Poor Mat. Poor Raz, honestly, but she never wasted time on self-pity.

The program she'd signed on with, much like the two criminal cartels she'd helped Pru back, was dead. Hell, the whole nation was dying, but that was far less relevant to her. Razelle Breuner had long since hemorrhaged her capacity for patriotism. Loyalty was difficult, even when it had come so easy before. But then, had it really come easy to her? She still wasn't entirely sure how she should have felt about "her" life. Fable was no help, bless her. Colleen had known. Colleen was gone now.

And so was Raz, now. Razelle Bruener had made sure to list herself as KIA. It hadn't been too hard. The flagging cybersecurity division had their hands full with Sith and First Order attacks, which left their interior defenses very weak indeed. She'd let Mat know she was still alive, sure, then evaporated into the mist to spend a couple of months with Fable. The poor girl's career was hitting a plateau, and Raz felt like being supportive of another person would have been good for her.

For now, though...

For now, she was three whiskey sours deep on a mining rock that never stopped raining. She had no interest in having a double-up of stimstick crash and alcoholic hangover, though, so the bartender had graciously queued her up a gin and tonic. Double the eggs in that third sour, just to make sure she had plenty of grease in her. Drinking was the first art she'd mastered, a decade ago. Moderating her pace. Stretching her steps, every time just a little further. She had no interest in testing her limits tonight. She just wanted a reprieve. Just...a drink.

The bar in question - Hellshock; stupid, cliche, but not inaccurate - was pretty bare. A bunch of miners who wanted a beer filled up most of the seats. They drank and griped and generally had as much fun as possible when you were working a soul-crushing dead-end job on a soul-crushing dead-end planet. And that was fine company. No one talked to her or approached her, nothing was too loud.

Except that one extremely drunk schutta who sounded like she'd been hitting something way harder than whiskey or beer pretty healthily. Razelle gave her a glare once in a while when she got too loud.

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
Was Kurenai drunk? maybe, but she could drink like a Mando, though having enough to make a regular person double over and faint she was more or less just feeling the buzz, riding the first high she had in ages, actually feeling some sense of enjoyment that was different force ones. Though to an onlooker didn't know her well it would seem the overly tall woman was drunk as hell, not that she cared, not like anyone could do anything about it, besides the bar tender seemed happy with her business. Everyday some seemingly wealthy woman came to you drizzly bar and gave a good cash boost, only problem was not many people to talk with around here.

Most people just being miners, nothing fancy, no real stories to tell, made a somewhat enjoyable evening not all the most exciting as it could be, 'guess I will get another glass, maybe a bottle, heck I could probably ask great grandmother to buy this place out if need be, unless mother owns its, who knows what she's been up to, ah but who cares, one day of messing around won't do me any harm'. Leaving her side booth she walked leisurely straight over to the bar, but not before her gaze passe buy a rather interesting woman, well looked interesting anyways from her own point of view. She was dressed in a similar fashion to herself, Kurenai wearing her old operator class armor, there was that spark of experience in their eye, but more then that she seemed familiar somehow... odd, but perhaps someone interesting to talk to..

"Hmm you see like a person with a life story, and I know a good fighter when I see one, what are you doing in a place life this, with th galaxy in such a state plenty of jobs going around for skilled merc". Her toned had quieted down to the more calm and stoic form, but the slight smile was still there.
 
Oh god here she came.

Razelle rolled her eyes and downed her glass, wincing bitterly at the horrific taste. Gin and tonic was just...awful. Like a glass of liquid regret. She tapped her empty glass opening-down on the counter and didn't make eye contact with her brand new unsolicited company. "I've been picked up a few times, you know, and that is the weirdest line I've ever heard." She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning forward on her stool, against the counter.

Answer her questions so she'll go away, Raz. Then you can be miserable in peace. "You're assuming a lot from a once-over," she replied simply. "Everyone here has a story. Most of them are pretty friggin' depressing. Some are violent, too. So chances are I'm no more interesting than they are." Her eyes opened and leered sideways at the woman who was currently trying to buddy up to her. Dark hair, almond eyes. Atrisian? Maybe. Well-built, well-armored. Probably snuck a weapon through the bouncer and scanners; Raz knew she had, so chances were someone else could, too.

Down to the root of the matter, the blonde regarded her visitor with the same paranoia with which she approached the rest of her life. "So that means you picked me out for a specific reason. What do you want?"

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
Kurenai raised an eyebrow at the pale blonde woman as she downed the last of her glass like a Rodian taking a wift of spice before doing something stupid, 'uh oh, these types, this may be fun', or wide up a bar fight 50/50 either way. As the blonde woman replied Kurenai was actually confused for a moment before the strange realization stuck home, "would never have expected to be on the receiving end of that phrase usually it is the other way around, but no, I am not here to pick you up".

Her answer was the usual she had heard from many in the past, and true, from one glance some person could not know anything, but Kurenai was not just 'some person'. Just like an Echani could get a feel for what a person was like, seeing minor body movements, just form so many years of experience she had developed a similar sense, all but different and taking into account more factors. "I have a very heavy suspicion such is not the case but what ever floats you boat", or what ever people said these days.

The woman did not look physically fatigued, or mentally, but from her body movements Kurneai had a feeling they where sort of relief, like they had managed to get away from some potential life threatening event, but that was not why she spoke with the woman. "My reasoning, well you look like a traveler, or not from around here, and trust me I know, but if you have been around here by any chance as of late I was wonder if you had seem a woman looking like me", not had since most Atrisians looked the same. "Though that was not all, you face... it is very familiar, reminds me of a squad mate I served with during the one Sith wars around 20 years ago, hehe swapped her magazine for a chocolate bar one day not really knowing how to give gifts, oh how that battle went, hilarious".


[member="Razelle Breuner"]
 
"No," Razelle replied simply.

She'd fought in a few wars recently, but none of them involved the Sith. All of them involved the First Order, in fact, who claimed to be very much Not Sith. They were lying, of course, but they had to keep up the public representation of not being a religion of hate, even if everything they did proved that a very bold-faced deception. Still, not Sith. Her military record was devoid of Sith entanglements for the last...six hundred years? Maybe more. If that even counted as "her" record anymore.

The Atrisian woman bore a passing resemblance to Fable. Since she was definitely not Fable - too forward, too confident, and way too skinny - that meant she was trying to pull one over on her. Raz leaned her chin onto one hand, elbow braced against the bar, and gave her best attempt at a neutral look. "Still, I'll take it as a compliment. Having a familiar face usually means you're pretty forgettable." And if there was one thing Raz wanted, it was to be forgotten.

She contemplated another drink, but frankly she was pushing the budget already, and was none too eager to mix hangovers. Stimsticks were going to kick her ass as it was, she didn't need boozahol to do the same. Her eyes focused on the only other up-armored lady in the room pretty intently. If this turned violent she'd be...an interesting one. Confident, but seasoned. That meant she was dangerous but reckless. She leaned slightly into most of her movements, as if trying to preface them. Classic mark of a Teräs Käsi fighter who'd learned the art to the point of instinct. TK tended to be pretty weak in the legs. A very top-heavy martial art.

Raz's eyes pointedly did not travel to her ankles. No need to telegraph.

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
'No', simple short and bitter, now she knew what it left like to be all those people she flat out said know to all those time, even if the circumstances where different in this regard. Still was the no in response to her question about a similar looking woman hanging around these parts or the bit about the one Sith, or just all of it? The latter seemed the most logical, but Kuernai had a feeling the woman was more or less just 'asking' her to leave.

Her mention of the familiar face just seemed to reinforce that, even if Kurenai had literately mean the opposite, "really forgettable? considering I have only met one other person that has your face, hair a eyes I would say the opposite, but I think I understand you want me to leave or something along those lines". Unfortunately that was a no go, she had a lead here and was not going to leave unless someone passed up the information she needed, even if it took Kurenai a week to obtain it, besides there was still more to drink around here, and her glass was empty.

Leaning against the bar she placed down some credits, pointing to a bottle of whisky on the wall, her latest interaction on the battlefield giving her a new taste for the drink.While the bar tender wend about pouring a glass she could not help but feel the other woman's gaze upon her, that same look fighters often gave her before a fight... was the blonde looking for one? or just being careful.

Keeping her own eyes ahead at the full glass she addressed the new curious mercenary, "if you wan to spar you only need ask, can spend the entire day drinking, or are you just making a back up plan if anything goes south"? Form a quick glance before hand Kurenai had estimated the person was a user of K'tara, their posture not seeming to be on guard but also had that ever present look of a person that could quickly spin around and take you down without making a sound. Also though only minor any movement the woman made was almost, a stealth person it would seem, maybe ex-special forces? she had certainly run into a lot of those, mainly One Sith around the core worlds.

[member="Razelle Breuner"]
 
Psht. Reckless. Spoiling for a fight was the thuggish thing to do. This woman was either insecure in her ability to take on an unknown, or far too secure - overconfident, in fact - in her own invincibility. Idly, Razelle wondered if that was a Force-user trait, but she didn't draw any conclusions. Still, it would probably be prudent to keep her thoughts shielded from here on out. Hazy. Half-remembered, like a smoky pond, rather than detritus floating on a still lake. It was a very similar process to how one handled interrogation. The murkier your own memories were and the less collected your thoughts, the less information you could give even if you wanted to.

"Never have a backup plan," Razelle replied with a shake of her head, her eyes focused sharply on the woman before her. "Three backup plans is unprepared. Having a half-dozen ways out is priority one when you walk into any room." She lifted one hand to start counting off. One. "Front door is heavily guarded. You'd need concealment for an escape. Any chaos not directed at you, like a bar fight or a broken fire suppression system, would provide the cover you need."

Two. "The service door in the back is a supply hatch. Low security, and the storeroom is cluttered. Adequate firefight cover, and enough visual mess to break line of sight enough to come up with a plan." Three. "The staff door is behind the bar, on the right, near the refreshers. The door's secured, but the barkeeper carries a security card. He's weak on his left. Kidney, carotid, floor. There's a window to the outside and a fire suppression system. Barricade the door, set it off, bolt."

She tapped the bar for a refill - Ceti Fireball, this time. She needed to be on her toes. - as she held up a fourth finger. "Refreshers are a dead end, but the building support is weakest there. If you wanted to knock out a wall, that's the way to go. There's a scattergun beneath the bar that could make a decent IED, and could be used to cover your escape before that." Five. Her full hand was up. "Hostages in public areas are a bad idea, but they always provide at least a few seconds of confusion. Get a scan of the room, and wait for the bouncer to approach from the rear. He's weak at the hips. Check with your elbow, wrench left. Dislocated disc. Main entrance is clear, and now you have an injury to distract pursuit."

Her drink arrived. She lost herself in it.

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
Kurenia gave a raised eye brow at the long winded speech about how to get out, it seemed like someone a professional body guard would say, but for a simple bar on a damp mining planet such extremes seemed unnecessary. Had the woman done it out of shear practice? to show off? or just to prove a point in that matter that their was more then one solution that did not involve fighting ones ways out of things? It was quite interesting to hear, but more so on how well the woman knew the bar even if they had only been here for a short period of time, though that was not all.

In addition it just constantly reminded Kurenai how much of a one trick animal she was, only good at one on one fighting nothing more, mediocre at stealth, only decent at hacking, not nearly a skilled pilot, below average in mechanics and a sub par force user. "You sure have quite the array of exist plans around here... guess that show just how rusty I've become in my old age, not even half those would have crossed my mind if things did go wrong". Mose so seeing she got into bar fights way to often, quite a few involving skilled bounty hunters, rouge Sith and assassins every instance her solution being 'knock everyone out'. Taking the glass in hand she quickly downed the drink, letting out a small sigh while slouching against the bar, "well at least I ca say you have given me some pointers for future events, not that I will be getting into many fights after this little trek".

It may have seemed a little out of the blue for those few who did know her, but Kuernai was as of late contemplating retirement of some sorts, perhaps a long service leave and much needed vacation away from the military. After all, every interaction as of late just continued to show how outclassed she was by everyone else, most military engagements ending in herself standing on the side lines while others took the brunt of objectives, and this girl right here just seemed to hit another nail in that coffin.

[member="Razelle Breuner"]
 
Oh? Well that was unexpected. She'd come off as quite aggressive...or at least shameless. Raising one blonde eyebrow, Raz spun on her seat and leaned back against the bar. "Retiring? That's the smartest thing I've heard anyone say for the last few weeks." She shook her head and gave a glum grunt of displeasure. "This game sucks. It's brutal, everyone thinks they're winning, and the rules change every few weeks. The only real winning move is to stop playing." Politics were among her least-favorite things. They made it easy to find levers to pull, obviously, but cutting through the slog of he-said-she-said was a threat to one's sanity.

At some level, Razelle understood her base assumption that everyone around her was plotting against her personally, all the time, forever was wrong. It was still impossible to curve that reflex.

Patting the seat beside her, the little renegade finally softened her expression just a smidge. "Jane," she offered. "I'm just passing through. Didn't expect another soldier on this mud-soaked rock." Her drink sat behind her, but her eyes maintained their focus. "Shore leave before your last hurrah, or just winding down while your papers go through?" Not a single bit of her had relaxed. Her stress was just directed in a different way. A trained combatant was a threat, period, and she hadn't written off anyone else in the room either. Crazies and assassins were really good at passing for normal.

Well. Good assassins. Recently, there seemed to be one of those cyclical surges of pretty young "assassins" who liked distinctive hairstyles and thought nobody could pick them out of a crowd if they just wore a hood. Tip to all future murderers: not getting caught is your primary objective. The easiest way to do that is to look like a bum. After a moment Raz noticed her mind wandering, and quickly refocused it on watching for surprise attacks, hidden explosives, concealed weapons...

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
Kuernai would have expected the woman to laugh it off, not care of berate her line of thought, but it seemed that surprise just kept on coming from the short blonde woman. "I did not specifically say retire, but you do have a point in that matter, I can't spend my entire life fighting constantly". Even with her almost immortal life span she deserved a break from war, time alone to do what she wanted, time to relax and once in a while not have to wake up crack in the morning, run through military drills and much more... even if it was one of the few things she wa s good at. "Oh boy do the rule change, but also repeat each other, to be honest I do not why I picked up the gun again after marriage".

Heck getting married and heaving children was what put her into retirement in the first place, was it the whole CIS resurgence that caught her up in the new wars? Probably she had been contacted directly by Darth Metus about a possible contract, how he found out about her and more or less wanted her still never fully clicked. She continued to fiddle with the empty glass in her wake until turning at the sound a... seat pat? "Well thank you, and it's Abigal, it's nice to meet you" she replied taking a seat next to the now somewhat friendly woman. "Shore leave, not really, I am more or less just thinking of leaving and seeing how long it takes them to realize I'm gone, perhaps I'll do one more mission, maybe not who knows".

It may have been a dick move but to be honest that was how people often treated her, keeping the whole 'I'm over 800 years old' thing a secret came with a down side. People just thinking she was some stuck up woman in mid life crisis that wanted to always be in control, as oppose to the veteran mercenary that could see danger coming from a mile away. "I would ask where you have been or going but I can see you stressed and on the look out, with all that had been happening in the core worlds I am not surprised, I'd probably be the same".

[member="Razelle Breuner"]
 
"Piece of advice," Razelle began as the other woman sat down. She offered her the rest of her Ceti Fireball, half-empty as it was. She'd been drinking it, so naturally it'd be "safe," if Abby was anywhere near as paranoid as Raz was. "Or maybe just sagacious insight, I'm honestly not sure. This galaxy is a huge place. Literally quadrillions of sapient life-forms, maybe add an 'illion or two to that. Unless you're extremely, exceptionally important, no one will give two frags that you're gone. Doesn't matter how long you've been with them or how badly you cover your tracks. They're just too busy to care."

That was never enough for Raz, of course. The chance that someone - anyone - might know where she came from, where she went, or even that she still existed at all was too great a risk. Right? That'd been why she'd left Mat behind and bailed on the Alliance just as it was going under... right?

Oh goodie. And now we're on this subject. "Solid bet," Raz replied noncommittally, pulling a stimstick and a lighter out of her vest pocket. One practiced motion, lips, light, stow. The smell of antisombulants immediately filled the air around her. "The galaxy is pretty screwed right now, and I don't have a habit of staying on sinking ships."

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
Kurenai eye'd up the glass offered, not sure weather to take it or not, but ultimately reaching over to grasp the strong drink, holding in in her hand for a few moment before taking a large sip. "Un-important, yeah that would be me, even when the higher ups honor me with some new title or responsibility most just see me as some hot heat mercenary with no skill outside of killing people". "During military missions anything I say just get reprimanded by some Vicroy that stands to the back of the army shouting out 'leave no one alive, take no prisoners' and all that crap". "Anything I do is over shadowed by others, or often the case brash and rash youngsters go in guns blazing and sloppily taking care of the enemy before I can fire a single bullet".

Perhaps that as why the CIS used a droid army in the past, because their current organic forces where more wild then a swarm of angry Wookies, only those in special forces positions really carried much sense of discipline, but Kureani had not say in those matters. "Screwed? that's a light way of putting it, this galaxy is royally fucked in side and out, kind of glad I'll be jumping ship now before things get worse". In the mean time she could wait out a few years on Atrisia while the Major powers keep to their own section of space, that until the First Order or Sith Empire reached the core worlds. Looking to her side once more Kurenai eye's glanced over the stim stick, "so your a smoker too? should not be surprised".

[member="Razelle Breuner"]
 
Razelle snickered, rolled her eyes, and leaned back on the counter behind her. "Oh, I've heard that story before. Sounds like you work with Forcies." As little respect to the profession as possible. Razelle's life had been filled with strong personalities whose entire identity revolved around using space magic to get things done. Whether it was Nessarose or Pru or Fable or whoever it was she decided to let hold her leash for a few months, the chain of command almost inevitably ended at some self-absorbed, egotistical, dangerously overconfident magician. "No, I know that feeling, sweetpea. Like, could you assholes not have a deathwish for like ten minutes and let us get something done? We have a vanguard. It's full of shock troops. Just go hang out there, let the guys you're paying to soldier do their damn jobs, right?"

With a long drag of stimulants, Raz gave a shrug. "I don't like sleep. Eight hours a day is too long to spend unawares." Frankly, she looked tired. Hell, she might have looked exhausted. Even so, her sleepy eyes darted around the bar very subtly, landing on some new potential threat every few seconds. "I'd offer to share, but I don't share." With a quick shrug, the blonde looked back to the door. Still there, still guarded, no one had tampered with anything. Her gaze landed on "Abigail" for a moment, before twitching over to a cluster of miners to scan for activity (none visible). Then back to Abby again.

"Here's hoping your last hurrah is your last one." Because if she saw her down-scope, there wouldn't be a moment's hesitation. Trillions of lives were created and extinguished every day, and literally billions of sapients lived their entire existences without ever being known to another soul. Life had no meaning, unless it was Raz's own, or someone standing in the way of her living to see another day. "I wish you many fat babies."

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
That was an understatement is she had ever heard one, working with force users and all, "Ha, worked with them, heck I was supposed to be leading them for force sake, but nooooooooo, my force powers just arn't good enough so my orders are thus not good enough, screw people with fancy schools and master since they where young". "Each of them everything, not having to go through all the crap I did growing up", that's was was so frustrating, after 800 years she was no better then a senior knight. "Least I know when those fracking force nulling lizards attack I will actually be able to defend myself, see way to many 'gifted' people just rely on the force without much putting use into traditional fighting skills".

She let out a long sigh, downing the rest of her glass, "no sleep, gees what you got some bounties on your head or looking to vanish from public eye? because I have dealt with both". Mainly latter, once more living so long did come with a few down sides. "No need to share Jane, I have my own, though more cigar person in for the stress release, sleep is something I make sure to get". Though once in a while she could just power through, extra stamina helped that, even if it made her feel like a dead weight later on. While Jane made more twitches around the place Kurenai pulled out one of her narcotic cigars, using a small snap of her fingers to light the end, pyrokenisis at it's finest.

"Pffft, last one for now, I have a feeling death is not quite done with me, sooner of later I'll be shooting and being shot at again, only question is what bullet, laser, sword or saber had my name on it". Such was no joke, even if she retired, went back to living at home something was gonna try shoot her again, weather if the Sith invade Atrisa or just some other stupid event, war was going to be inevitable thing she partook in. "Oh, and I would rather not get pregnant again anytime soon, so the fat bellies will have to be put on hold blonde, not always the funnest experience". A small chuckle escaping her mouth before taking another drag.

[member="Razelle Breuner"]
 
Well there went all the pleasant in that conversation. Razelle took inventory of all the information she'd just come across.

First, this was a Jedi. Or Sith or whatever gods-damned religious faction that totally wasn't a religion she prescribed to. That put literally every interaction they'd had up to that point in question, though Raz did allow herself a moment of confident respite knowing that she'd had the foresight to keep her mind as scattered as possible to avoid any cohesion in her surface thoughts. Even so, she was talking to "one of them" now, which meant that she was probably lying. But then, Raz knew that; she was lying, too.

Second, she now suspected Raz to be an escaped bounty. Whatever her stance on them was, money was money, and Domino had so helpfully put a tidy sum of credits on her "retrieval." It had been a convenient excuse to disappear once upon a time. This was the first time in a while she'd been worried about it actually becoming important to her present situation. Even if her price stipulated "alive," even chances were that the average hunter who suspected her wouldn't even know the requirements of her reward.

Third, fatalism. ...Actually, that wasn't even really surprising, and Raz could relate to it at a fundamental level. Never mind.

Anyone casually probing her thoughts would have noticed them seize rather abruptly into aggressive paranoia. Anyone with the good sense to stay the hell out of her head, on the other hand, was left with the same bitter, mildly bitchy old soldier that had been there the whole time. "Something like that," she replied to the uncomfortably probing question of her legal status. "Chronic deserter" wasn't the best thing to have on your résumé. Change the subject.

"Commanding saber jockies sounds a little like herding nexu," she offered, in an attempt to stay friendly. "In my experience they're more interested in giving orders than taking them. Constantly and without insight, perspective, experience, or the capacity for basic logic. We used to make a game out of who could think of the most creative way to technically follow the orders the magic moron who was somehow nominally in charge gave without marching to our deaths."

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
The mood in "Jane" seemed to shift suddenly at the reveal of her being a force users, a tense like aura coming from the woman with the speed and iron resolve of someone who was probably a very skilled fighters. It seemed a little rude, but who was she to blame, blondie did seem skittish the moment they mean. After all, to many the thought of a mystical ability to reach into ones mind and do all sorts of chit was crazy and scary. The powers that force users had quite the barrier for someone who was unprepared, though it did feel a little overkill, unless "Jane" had something to hide.

If that was true so be it, Kurenai was no a bounty hunter to begin with, nor an assassin anymore, "Well if so no need to get your panties in a twist, I don't care what you have done or who you are running from, that would just be hypocritical due to my current case". "As of now, I'm just some run down soldier looking for a relative but decided to stop at a bar and drink a few hours of her life away, though nice mental defense... even if I was never good at that stuff in the first place". Mind probing, memory alteration, all that sort of stuff was not her thing, quite the contrast to what her mother was apparently like, a more brains over brawn, herself the opposite.

"Commanding Saber Soldiers, yep quite the hard work, does not help the order I was in had no real hierarchy a 'first among equals' approach, meaning those who had reputation or where just around the longest where looked towards for guidance. You could be a well known master and veteran solider, but if someone was here before you, their views outweigh yours", and with her past being very shrouded and unknown, such a belief just made people listen to her less. "That game you speak of sounds like and interesting challenge, like hey, not everyone can block laser and rocket fire like you can". Probably saw the worst of that during the clone wars where each side would just zerg rush, the Jedi being all safe while clones and droids got mowed down.

[member="Razelle Breuner"]
 
Of course. She was in her head now.

Razelle had training in resisting mental invasion, though resisting mental influence was less reliable. She'd once had her mind half-torn apart by Domino when the two of them were playing a very dangerous game of twenty questions. Took her most of a week to remember her childhood. From there, she'd learned her two basic strategies for keeping forcies out of her head.

Angle 1: Scatter your thoughts. This worked best as a casual state, so Raz had managed to adopt it as her casual state. Allow instinct to guide your actions and you wind up revealing very little about your plans or thoughts. Having a plan is the easiest way to lose to a telepath. Most of the time, her thoughts were a whirlwind of colors and feelings without any predetermination involved. This didn't work terribly well in conversations, though, or in private conflicts. Her mind raced too much, even with so much practice trusting her instincts.

Angle 2: Think about something extremely annoying. By flooding your thoughts with the mental equivalent of spam mail, you could prevent a telepath from picking up anything of value. Early in her career, Raz had made a point of finding one extremely boring thing to become a qualified expert on. In her case, Andoan entomology. She'd memorized three whole academic holos of information on ice beetles, arctic grub worms, eastern snow-glider moths, spotted winterlight bugs...

'The half-horned southern trawler worm, better known as the blue ganna, is thought to have evolved from the influence of Rakatan debris falling from orbit after the decline of their imperial control on ancient Ando. This influence is present primarily in its shorter dorsal protrusions and bright cyan coloration. It's highly poisonous to most predators.'

As her mind raced through the varied habitats of the southern trawler worm within southwestern Hgkarrn Pass, Razelle's mouth spoke on an entirely unrelated topic. "Oh it was super fun," she replied simply. Almost dispassionately, at the memory of some of the side-effects of blue ganna poison. "The only problem with that is that losing the game means your entire squad gets wiped out by a mortar emplacement."

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 
Unfortunately "Jane's" escapade and and mental warfare would go unnoticed by Kurenai, she had no interest in delving into the younger girls mind and even if she did once more mental probing was an are Kurenai had little skill in. Yep all the mental gymnastic, random thought process and thick mental shielding was all for naught in the long run. Perhaps if it was her daughter things would be different, though for the current time Kurenai just wanted to kill time and have a some what enjoyable evening before turning in for the night.

A short among to time seemed to pass between their words, herself cocking an eye brow slightly and the blonde woman, she was surely trying hard with what ever mental protection was going on up their, it was kind of cute to be honest. Finally "Jane" responded in a sombre tone the highlighted the realities of war and how the inexperience of force users lead to more death then then people would suspect. "Yep, seen that a lot, or machine gun, enemy armor, or when the force user is to focused on dueling some lone other enemy frocer and forgets about their own men, which promptly get chewed up by something else".

Such was probably why the Sith empires had staggering casualties, any attack they held being Sith charging forward to get at Jedi or something else, leaving their legions of troopers to get cut down in the hundreds. Though that hardly mattered with their vast conscription and indoctrination of troops to think they are the good guys and to throw their lives away for the empire. Taking another drag on her cigar Kuernai turned around to pose "Jane a question.

"So, you going back to fighting in time? I can see you looking to get away from something, but is this the end of your work as a solider? or you waiting for heat to die down and the jumping ship to some other place looking for gun"? If "Jane" was from the core worlds and a potential Galactic Alliance shoulder then such would be a while, if not she could see the woman quickly being snatched up by another major galactic power and trusted into whatever wars they have going on.

[member="Razelle Breuner"]
 
With a long drag on her stimstick, Razelle shook her head. The smoke - which smelled distinctly of burnt mint coffee - encircled her head as she moved, trailing up in a single long cloud above her when she leaned back into her chair. "You've probably got a pretty good understanding of what it's like to do something for so long that you forget how to not do it." She sighed, closing her eyes and twirling her stim in the air in an impatient little circle.

"It's a goal to strive towards, in basic training. All those years ago, we wanted to get so good at what we were doing that we just did it. All instinct, no thought. Reflex." Her free hand drummed idly against the bar with her fingertips. "Out of ammo, your hand is already halfway to your belt for a fresh power pack. Four hours of sleep, you wake up like someone shot at you, ready to react to whatever's nearby." She opened her eyes and glared to one side and the other. "Sitting still too long, you check for what you've missed. A spotter, an ambush, a booby trap, some local you hadn't taken into account."

After a moment of self-aggrandizing, Razelle sat up properly, then slumped over her own knees, elbows digging in. Her stim made its way back to her lips. "You don't ever stop being a soldier. Someone shouts at you, you stand up straighter. Walking with others in a line, you follow their steps. You've been something for so long that you just are now."

She shook her head and flicked her burned stim filter into a disposal receptacle nearby. "There's only one end, Abigail. And I'm not eager to see it."

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
 

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