Star Wars RP

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

High Stakes and Who is He? (TSE Dominion of Troiken)

Success or Death.


[SIZE=9pt]A planet locked in orbit; one side scorching hot, the other a frozen tu[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]ndra. While most of the planet is deemed uninhabitable for humanoids, its centre presents a continuous strip of inhabitable territory. The Homeworld of the [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Xexto[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt],[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] Troiken is most known for high-speed racing and lucrative spice-exports.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]In their perpetual expansion, The Sith Empire dispatched envoys to discuss Troiken’s inclusion into the Empire. To do so, they have been invited to President Bulmbuli Xob’s mansion in the capital city of Veterned. However, upon arriving, the diplomats were met with a full house, where the spice flows and laughter rolls, and no one knows who President Bulmbuli Xob is or what he looks like. Yet, the Dark Lord demands the diplomats settle the matter with the President himself… herself?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Meanwhile, Sith Imperial personnel are given leave to explore Veterned and establish connections with the populace. There are many markets, some open to the public, some only known to a few. Follow the rumours and you may find the strangest treasures hidden away in the back room of a xexto’s cabinet of curiosities. There are hundreds of spice-houses where one may find any kind of information and make many a business transaction.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Any thrillseeker should find their way to the great speedway and try their hand at one of the races; pod racing, swoop racing, bantha wrangling, and betting galore. All of these undertakings are dangerous and could well end in a fiery death, even the gambling. Represent the Sith Empire in any competition and show the xexto how it is done![/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]What’s that? You’ve been swindled? Find the culprit and bring them to justice![/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]While transactions happen on land, a favour is occuring in space. Spice shipments have been intercepted by pirates on a regular basis. The Sith Empire's high command have found this to be a prime chance to display good will towards the xexto, while also performing the Empire's duty of crushing unchecked piracy around their borders. They must have a base somewhere, or a larger ship in which they store the goods. Find it if you can. If not, catch the pirates and put them to the sword in a display of Imperial justice. Leave none alive.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]A: You are one of the diplomats sent to speak to President Bulmbuli Xob, but you find yourself at a party and have no idea where the President is. The spice and drinks flow and the local elite is far too busy with their mirth to give any solid indication of where the President is. Yet, you know the Dark Lord is growing impatient with your lack of progress. What do you do? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]B: Enter one of the races! Win glory for the Empire! [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]C: Betting, buying, or just sightseeing, you’ve been swindled by a local! Find out who has your cash and bring them to justice, or deliver it yourself.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]D: Clear out the pirates on the trading route, trace them back to their base if you can. Leave none alive. [/SIZE]

Jantar Keltainen

Evil is a word used by the ignorant and the weak
OBJECTIVE: D — Pirates


En Route to Troiken

When the cruiser first arrived at the Troiken system, it carried a full complement of fighters. Their mission? Simple — to identify pirates and take them out. Destroy them. Obliterate them. And their base. And any kith and kin around. Even their pets were not above the kill command.

Jantar was, once more, on a mission at the behest of her master. The truth was, she was a decent pilot and actually enjoyed flying. And if you factored in her Farseeing ability, she had an edge over other Force sensitives, let alone the run-of-the-mill pirates.

What she hadn't enjoyed was being forced to sleep in a cell-like room deep in the dark lower decks of the cruiser.

She remembered it like it had been yesterday. Primarily because it was yesterday, but time on a starship, in and out of hyperspace, seemed somehow different from planetary time.

“Here. Take this holo and study it.”

She’d been given a briefing this way as they were behind schedule. Once she’d assimilated the information, then slept, she knew she’d be grabbing a light bite and heading out to engage the enemy.

So she’d played the holo, understood and memorised, showered, slept and ate, and now she was leaving her cell and heading to the hangar, kitted out in a most unflattering flight suit — with just one thought on her mind…how many pirates would she kill?

Actually, strike that, she had two thoughts. The second was - does my backside look big in this?

Lisanne Escher

Born to Ruffle Feathers
Location: Veterned
Objective: [C] Catch that fething thief- Wait, why are there Sith here?

Things couldn't get much worse than this.

The trip to Troiken was supposed to be a way to blow off steam. The League of Voss was taking heavy losses and although it seemed like a poor idea to take any time off in such a time, Lisanne had begun to realize she didn't really care for their goals. She told herself she would head back to Voss and pick up the blaster again soon, but had she been honest to herself her time with them was over. They were going to get her killed sooner or later, the fact it hadn't happened was a miracle already, and anyone who wasn't delusional knew that it was only a matter of time before the last spark of resistance was put to an end.

That wasn't what the woman was going to keep herself occupied with, however. Not today. Today the plan was to take a stroll through Veterned, do some betting, and do whatever got on her path. It would clear her mind, so she could figure out if she continuing the fight alongside the League was truly the right way to go.

...That was the plan. Instead, she was dealing with two problems at the same time. First off, someone decided to get smart with her and conned her out of her credits with a rigged game. After finding out the thief had decided to try to escape and now Lisanne was running after him, dodging and weaving through the mass of people while trying to not lose him out of sight. Which brought her to the second problem.

Some of the people she sprinted past were affiliates of the Sith Empire.

Now, up until a number of days ago that would not have been an issue. There was no chance they would recognize the face of one insignificant member of the League of Voss unless there was a reason for remembering, which was exactly why the situation had the potential to end really, really badly. In a skirmish she had been face to face with a Sith. Unnatural blazing red eyes, striking red hair, two red lightsabers. A scar near one of her eyes decorating her facial features.

Luckily she was able to get away unharmed, but it was too close for comfort. It was unlikely that of all people she would be here too, let alone run into Lisanne, but the thought still made her uneasy. Still, someone was getting away with her credits. And that karker was not getting the last laugh.
It's Real to Pretend
Objective D

The Ablution​ was in-system once more, ready to engage potential hostile forces and serve as Vanessa Vantai's mobile source of operations. For now, she sat down and resided a section roughly amidships, below the bridge itself, where a meditation chamber had been added. This was where she now meditated - the experience at Kashyyyk where she had generated the illusion of space grazers had drained her drastically, thus she now sat within an area that amplified her powers for later use.

Several convoys of freighters, including a Reclaimer-class Repair Ship, had been sent into the system deliberately as bait to lure the pirates out. The Ablution​ was tracking the current location of these various different convoys, awaiting the inevitable notification that pirates were going to strike. When they did, well... she would be ready.

After all, the ​Dominator hadn't been recommissioned for nothing.
Success or Death.
Swoopracing had been something of a passtime of Ophidia when she was a younger woman. Why, she still used her swoop for many a trip and found great enjoyment in the breakneck speed of what was essentially a seat mounted on a rocket engine. One needed superhuman reflexes to ride one, much more to race one. That was why she had brought her apprentice, [member="Leliana"], to the race tracks.

"You will be fine, my apprentice. Remember your training."

She shoved the helmet into Leliana's hands as the door opened behind the bewildered acolyte, and Xexto assistants nagged for her to follow to the race track itself. The Pale smiled and folded her hands behind her back.

"Use the Force."

While the tone of her words was uplifting, the look in her eyes said quite clearly: Do not disappoint me. She had, of course, not told Leliana anything about being entered into the races. That was the purpose of the exercise, after all. She knew the girl could ride a speeder, and she had been allowed to try out a swoop back on Maena, as was party of basic training in escape tactics.

But this? She had not been trained for this. This was an exercise in managing the unexpected. Being an assassin meant that one had to adapt to their circumstances. Swoopracing on an unfamiliar court meant the same. The Rattataki had great expectations for her apprentice, and ways in which she would not forget her disappointment should she lose.

Jantar Keltainen

Evil is a word used by the ignorant and the weak
OBJECTIVE: D — Pirates


Jantar knew she was not part of the main strike force — the briefing eluded to as much. There would be a decoy that would bring out the main bulk of the pirates and they would be crushed mercilessly.

Jantar’s role was to mop up any stragglers, for there were bound to be some. She hadn’t traveled this far just to watch, after all.

She took to starfighters like a Wookie to a bowcaster.

“The decoy will arrive here,” said the briefing. A small world was visible in the background. Troiken. As the Admiral spoke, several convoys of freighters, including a Reclaimer-class repair ship popped into view in the upper quadrant. Within moments, a stream of pirates appeared. Then a squadron of X-wings appeared and wiped out most of the enemy.

Jantar began asking herself what she was doing here. And she kept coming up blank. Mop up duty it seemed. She was hardly an ace up anyone’s sleeve if she was relegated to the bench. But duty was duty — although she was determined to tell anyone she walked past what she thought of their karking arrangements.

Soon she was ready to depart and her squadron soared from its hangar deck and quickly assumed its position in formation.

“You OK, Red Two?” It was her leader’s voice over the communicator. She wasn’t even first in command!

“Fine, Red Leader.” answered Jantar. “Fine and karkin’ dandy.” She wondered if she could pipe music through the cockpit and once she had a chance, she’d ask the mech-droid.

“What's that, Red Two?”

“Ready when you are, Red Leader,” she answered, only this time with slightly more conviction.

“Just stick close to me. Hyperspace in T-minus ten.”

Everything began to move quickly once they entered hyperspace. The jump was a short one, to catch the enemy unaware — and within an impossibly short time they were in normal space again.

Time to wait — and see what songs the droid could access.

Sebastian Thel

Cipher Thel
Location: Veterned
Objective: Help a stranger
Allies: [member="Lisanne Escher"]

The hemisphere of the still planet sat bathing in sunlight, which Sebastian welcomed as opposed to the cold. Blades of grass, sucked dry of any life, poked through a layer of sand pushed gradually through the city. With no interest in gambling, his agenda on Troiken were the podracers themselves and he stopped by the racetrack to take a look at some of the designs. Leaning in close to the engine of a craft, he was swiftly chased away by an angry racer cursing in an alien language.

"I was just looking!" Sebastian cried as he ducked. The racer flailed his six arms and probably threatened to eat him in the language Sebastian could not identify. He ran through the sand and away from the track, moving in between the various stores making up the city.

Just as he lost sight of the creature chasing him, Sebastian caught the sight of another man being ran after by a fierce looking woman. He stopped to catch his breath and wondered for a moment about which one of them had wronged the other. Was the man running the victim of the woman, or she been robbed or tricked in a bet? As she slowed down, his habitual concern overcame him and he decided to help her, if she needed any assistance.

Still looking behind his back for the podracer who was after him, he approached the woman from behind. The presence of the Sith did not subdue his unease and he kept an eye out for any figures in black robes. Wearing a plain, grey T-shirt beneath bracers and loose trousers tucked into boots, he appeared the unassuming civilian and was not likely to arouse any mistrust.

"Hello Miss." Running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep himself composed, he stood at her side and spoke softly. "Do you need any help?" Sebastian almost regretted asking as she turned to face him, she was clearly strong and could probably handle herself.

Lisanne Escher

Born to Ruffle Feathers
Location: Veterned
Objective: [C] Don't get recognized by Sith, get credits back, talk to a stranger?
Ally: [member="Sebastian Thel"]


Lisanne slammed her fist on the door she stood in front of, steam almost coming out of her ears. The man had made his way into an apartment building and whether he did it himself or whether it happened automatically, the door he went through was locked by the time she got there herself. She refused to let the crook get away with her credits, but despite that she was at a loss. Kicking it in wasn't an option, there was too much of a crowd and the door was too sturdy. Being able to escape an encounter with probably one of the deadliest beings in the galaxy today but subsequently being stolen from in broad daylight and having the culprit getting away with it however was something the woman was not going to let happen.

"Hello miss."

The sudden appearance of a figure in the corner of her eye paired with the greeting caught Lisanne off-guard for a second, causing her bring up her left hand and beginning a swing towards it. Thankfully she was able to pull it back in the nick of time, quickly bringing it back to her side. "Just a hint, dude," she said somewhat erratically while trying to cool off her boiling anger, "when someone looks ticked off, don't approach them from behind. Someone with a worse reaction time would've decked you purely out of reflex."

After taking a deep breath and tilting her head upwards for a moment the woman brought her attention back to the stranger, looking a little bit calmer now. "Sorry about that. Someone just stole my credits and ran into this building, and now he's probably laughing his ass off. I hope you understand why I'm a bit mad." She felt a little bad for her reaction, but unfortunately there wasn't much that could be done about it anymore. "When I'm angry, I get a bit... Well, you get it. But to answer your question, yes. I could definitely use your help if you're willing."

Sebastian Thel

Cipher Thel
Location: Veterned
Objective: Help a stranger
Allies: [member="Lisanne Escher"]

The woman in hot pursuit ran to a block of houses, with Sebastian maintaining a sprint after her. From all the times he had to run for his life, he had become reasonably fast and built up a modest amount of muscle in his legs. The sand kicked up behind his feet as he stopped to watch the man escape clean into the door. The woman stopped and pounded her fists on the wall, causing Sebastian to back away slightly.

"Stop that!" Sebastian winced as she swore and continued to bang away at the door. "You don't want to hurt yourself." Suddenly, the woman's hand swung out from behind her, with the intention of whacking Sebastian clean in the face. He ducked in an instant, crouching on his knees and gripping his head.

Still gripping his hair and rising slowly to his feet, he listened to the woman's warning as she described reaction time and reflexes. Sebastian immediately recognized the terms in a mathematical and engineering sense, but the woman was clearly talking about combat, which he knew nothing about. As the pause traveled between them, she seemed to calm down and he stood at his full height.

"I'm sorry to hear that" As she explained how her credits had been stolen, Sebastian expressed his concern in a tempered voice. "That would make me angry too." Cupping his chin in his hand, he immediately began to sift through his mind for a solution to the problem.

"Somehow I don't think he's going to give your credits back if we ask him nicely." He said with a sigh. While he idea was one he would have liked to approach, Sebastian knew the criminals and rogues of the galaxy did not speak the language of courtesy. They would have to act against him.

"I guess going to the authorities is out of the question, then?" He asked, assuming that would have been the woman's first action, before she chased the man down the street and banged on his door. "We could find a way to break into his apartment without him noticing, or..." Sebastian stopped to think. If the man was a common criminal, he was unlikely to trust the authorities either and would not report anybody taking back the credits he had already stolen.

"We could trick him into losing his credits to us." With his chin in his hand, Sebastian calculated any possible risks surrounding the idea. Memories of his mother's card games on Balmorra had since tarnished his attitude towards gambling.

Jantar Keltainen

Evil is a word used by the ignorant and the weak
OBJECTIVE: D — Pirates

POST: Three

Jantar began to follow her flight leader in to the rendezvous point, but miscalculated her position for just an instant. It was a costly instant and suddenly she was out of formation! It was a stupid, rookie mistake.

Angrily she began to turn the ship to recover her position, but she over-compensated. As her viewport spun around, Jantar spotted a pair of fast moving shapes that were clearly not falling for the decoy. Soon it became clear that an enemy flight of pirate fighters was headed straight for Red Leader! Instinctively Jantar sent her craft on an intercept course, falling in behind the closest pirate fighter as it neared its target. The enemy pilot had her leader's TIE directly in its sights. No time to think.

"Watch out, Red Leader!" she yelled as he hit the laser cannon button. She was almost too late. Her shot only grazed the enemy fighter. It was not a particularly good shot. But it threw the pirate fighter off course just as its pilot launched his own attack. So instead of blasting the TIE to space dust, the pirate's shot went high. Part of the beam hit, but seemed to do little damage.

Meanwhile, Jantar was manoeuvring instinctively, following the pirate as it now attempted to evade her. Her first shot must have damaged part of the steering control because the enemy fighter seemed only able to turn to starboard. When she realised this, she was able to anticipate her enemy's next manoeuvre and get inside his turn. She fired a cannon blast that caught the pirate amidships and sent him spinning off into space. Sparks and green and yellow smoke spewed from its engine.

"Good shooting, Red Two!" came the message. "And thanks. But next time, watch out for the wingman. I was barely able to get him off your tail!"

Jantar was too shocked to answer. She was so engrossed in the kill, she’d been oblivious of the pirate’s wingman.

"Red Two, come in."

"I'm here, Red Leader."

"Hey kid. That was good shooting. You'll be all right. I've been damaged. It's not too severe, but my droid has been disabled. I won't be able to continue. I'm leaving the flight to you, Red Two. You're on your own. You copy?"


“Affirmative. Complete the mission. Hurry now, or you'll miss all the fun."

Jantar watched as the TIE changed course and exited the system, jumping into hyperspace.

The wreckage of two starfighters floated off in the distance, the wingman's crippled spacecraft not far from the leader's. Only then did Jantar realise how close she had come to ‘final hyperspace’ as some pilots called it.

Quickly she boosted her power and headed back to the holding point and awaited any stragglers that might come her way.
The Two Who Were One
The rancid stench of sweat, booze, and tobacco filtered through the VIP boxes overlooking the Veterned Podrace Track, earning the well-dressed Devaronian who lingered in the threshold some scornful looks of the wealthy occupants already seated. The two Xexto females he had wrapped his large, muscular red hands around didn't seem to mind the smell, nor did the several Decraniated servants that trailed in his wake seem to pay anything of any mind.

Just how Doviculous liked 'em.

With the suave and grace of a drunken sailor, Doviculous sauntered over to an empty booth and plopped himself down on the cushioned seat. One of the Xexto females perched herself on his lap while simultaneously facing him, while the other slid into the next available seat and began to fiddle with the vegetative Decraniated that followed. If the other race patrons showed any signs of disgust or annoyance at this rather disruptive intrusion onto what had been a quiet, yet highly anticipated, prelude to the race's start, they did not dare to voice their opinions as the sight of the gangster's obscenely large blaster pistol occasionally clinked against the table from where it hung at his belt.

One of the waiters nervously approached, waiting awkwardly for the Devaronian to pry his mouth away from his current feminine interest before taking his order and bet. "Put a cool ten grand on Groddas Kigeb, I have a good feeling about his chances of coming in first place, uncontested."

It helped that Doviculous had sent saboteurs to meddle with the other racer's pods, but sometimes you had the grease the wheel of fortune.
Success or Death.
OBJECTIVE: A: President Who?
1. Firipp Kang

Firipp Kang looked nervously at his chrono and picked a glass of bubbles from a passing tray. He nodded courteously and laughed politely as the Xexto garbled on and doubled over in laughter. Firipp could not understand a word of what it said.

"That is wonderful. Excuse me, please."

Firipp turned and downed the contents of his glass, the contents were gross. What kind of farce was this event? Was the president even here? He continued cursing his luck and looked once more at his chrono before moving on deeper into the crowd. The music was loud. Finely dressed Xexto were lounging in plush chairs as waiters presented them drink and spice.

He bit the inside of his lip as he eyed the embers of the spice as a rotund quermian accepted the offering of his servant, a togruta fanned his exposed chest with a small fan. The xexto next to him talked slowly, but intensely about a matter. The quermian did not seem to care, but listened our of courtesy. Were the quermians powerful here? No, that would not fit. The xexto were very proud of their autonomy and viewed themselves as equal to the quermians, if not more.

The president had to be xexto.

A glass was shoved into Firipp's hand and he barely noticed. "Yes, thank you." "President Xob?" The xexto started with the same string of words as the last one had. By his understanding, Firipp would guess it was something along the lines of "Oh I know him! Let me tell you a story about the President."

He drank from the glass as the story came on. Firipp could understand snippets and pieces. If only he knew where his protocol droid had gone. They were separated earlier.
Objective B: Participate in a swoop race

Even though it had been some time since Leliana had become one of The Pale's apprentices, she still wasn't quite use to the constant travelling. Years growing up in one place had built up a degree of comfort and familiarity. The only real thing that had ever broken that was the occasional field mission. But now she was almost constantly trekking around the galaxy, usually at Ophidia's order.

She didn't know much either, not even the planet's name initially. All Leliana had been told was that the Sith Empire was continuing to expand its reach, and the Assassins were being called upon to assist in their endeavours on the specific planet.

It wasn't until she had set foot in Troiken, that it finally kicked in Leliana's mind.

Mainly because of all the holograms and holoboards advertising the various activities available on the planet. Specifically the different races that were going to be taking place.

Leliana immediately thought they were here to lurk in the shadows, weed out those that would impede the Empire's efforts on the planet. But that wasn't even close to what she was being directed too. They had reached their supposed destination, and a helmet was pushed into Leliana's hands.


It all finally clicked as the Xexto assistants pulled her through the threshold and ushered her further in. Leliana stared at Ophidia, catching the look in the Rattataki's eyes. This was meant to be a test; an exercise to test her skills. Only this was something Leliana hadn't planned for, and she always perferred planning ahead.

This could only go well...right?

Lisanne Escher

Born to Ruffle Feathers
Location: Veterned
Objective: [C] Don't get recognized by Sith, get credits back, get help with the latter
Ally: [member="Sebastian Thel"]

"The fact he started running when I told him to give them back tipped me off that he wasn't really looking at giving them back, no." Lisanne was still clearly unamused by the situation but made an effort to at the very least seem somewhat friendly towards the man. It wasn't all too helpful, but she hoped the fact she made the effort in the first place was enough. "If we do manage to get my credits back though," she mentioned while he was thinking, "the least I could do is pay you for your services." After all, she had almost punched him and he was still here. There weren't a lot of people in the galaxy who would remain friendly, much less lend a hand.

At the mention of authorities the woman replied with a shake of her head. "I very much doubt that they would care too much about an offworlder who got stolen from. Probably happens non-stop, not much point in trying to do anything about it." Instead the idea he proposed was one she could easily get behind. Before she could answer however she stopped herself as he took a moment, then explained another plan. Although the first was one she was much better in herself, perhaps the safer and slightly more legal way would be to follow the second path. "Well," she said as she began tipping the toe-end of her right boot onto the ground, "I would be more of a help with the first, but if you have an idea on how to do it without the risk of getting arrested that may be better."

Suddenly, Lisanne planted her foot on the ground and and she extended her hand towards him, offering a handshake. "Just realized I haven't introduced myself yet. Name's Lisanne." Seeing they would be working together for a while, she figured it was in place. "A pleasure."

[member="Sebastian Thel"]

Via Dolorosa

Amans In Tenebris
Fingers steepled together and resting impatiently upon her chin, the Dagobah Sith listened to the ramblings of the old man; whom she soon began regretting joining him at his rustic table in the seedy cantina. However, the old man claimed to posses information she deeply required, but up to this pointe he had not yet spilled his secrets; instead assaulting her sense of smell with his odorous breath, with it's reeking and wretched days old signs of binge drinking. Rolling her eyes as he dug deeper into his story, she finally reached her breaking pointe as she slammed both of her hands, palms down, onto the table promptly putting an end to the story.
"I'm sure your tale is rather fascinating....even possessing a grand climax but I am not here for stories, old man."
Digging all ten broken, dirty claws into the table, the Sith flashed a smile that screamed anger. Slowly and methodically she drew her hands back, leaving small marks on the table's surface.
"I'm not a very patient woman, old man. There are legendary tales of my impatience boiling over to murderous anger. Shall I weave one of those tales for you?"
Shaking his head, the old man looked away to avoid locking gazes with the woman across him. Whether it was the over amount of alcohol he consumed or the increasing fear he began to experience, he found himself sobering up. Willing himself, he turned to revisit looking at the woman, feeling increasing shivers as she continued to stare at him with that wicked smile returning.
"That would not be necessary, ma'am."
"Excellent! We seem to moving toward the same path. Now....the information if you please."
For nearly an hour the old man spoke of an hidden pirate outpost, but it appeared it was not THE base she was looking for. Still, eliminating any pirate threats in this region was more productive than wasting time and resources hunting down the main body. For them, Darth Venefica would leave that to the more eager up and coming Sith; whilst she laid waste to this small pocket of scum.
She thanked the old man, bought him two rounds, and exited the cantina. Shortly after leaving, four men joined the Sith; her personal boys who would be accompanying her on cleansing this pirate outpost.
Objective D
It's Real to Pretend
​Objective D

There it was. The signal. The convoy in question was nothing too exquisite - a couple of old Marder-class corvettes guarding four Tryton-class freighters and a Reclaimer repair ship. Apparently whatever this was was significant. The Ablution​ and her escorts soon jumped into the fray, the Pluton-class Battleship joined by the Dominator​, an Interdictine-class Star Destroyer, the Gorgon​, a Conqueror-class Heavy Cruiser, and the Claw, a Massassi-class Corvette refitted to Void standards. The ​Claw​ was here to track the enemy ship if it jumped away from the convoy - though the Dominator​'s gravity well generators would be doing their best to ensure such could not happen.

"Identifying pirate vessel... it's an Invictus-class Star Destroyer. Designation Agonizer​." the captain said. "Some brigands left over from the first Empire who apparently chose to degenerate into piracy. How pathetic." He replied. "Open fire with all guns."

The aged vessel had enough firepower to easily overwhelm the obsolete and already cheap picket corvettes. Indeed, both were currently smoldering wreckage. Damage had been caused to the convoy as well, and two of the freighters as well as the repair ship were currently disabled at the hands of the ​Agonizer's​ ion cannons. Despite this, the ship still attempted to move away - as futile a gesture as could possibly occur. Already squadrons of Exodus bombers were on their way to take the Invictus down. Vanessa herself stirred from the meditative position she had placed herself in and soon travelled to the bridge.

"Interesting... pirates. Sith pirates. Apparently they never received the memo that we've returned. Disappointing..." She said. "Claw, prepare to track the Agonizer through hyperspace. Dominator​, power down your gravity well generators. We're going to go ahead and let them leave - they'll lead us right to their headquarters at this rate."

With that, the Dominator​ disengaged its gravity well generators and within minutes the heavily damaged Agonizer​ escaped. The hyperspace coordinates as to where it had traveled to were soon given to all ships present - as well as some that were not. Soon, it would be time to make a very, very​ risky move.
Success or Death.
OBJECTIVE: A: President Who?

"Terribly sorry ma'am. I do not partake." "I am C9-KK7 Imperial Relations Droid, nice to meet you."

The xexto lady laughed and gulped down her drink, smoke pouring from the pipe in her hand as she waved it around in a dramatic gesture leading up to some kind of monologue. C9 was very aware of this as he was, in fact, made to understand more than one million forms of communications. Yet, his computer could not help but remind him that he should be near his assigned master.

The language and mannerisms of the Xexto were quite particular, particularly on Troiken, and as such, it was paramount that the humans had a guide to the proverbial maze of polite conversation.

C9 knew he was invaluable in that respect.

Yet, as he stood, he could not leave the conversation without seeming impolite. So he waited one minute, two full minutes until the female xexto looked at him again. There was an expression on her face as she stared into his photoreceptors. Had she forgotten what to say? C9 would like to say he sympathised, but being a machine he could not. First of all, he could not sympathise. It was not deemed proper for Imperial programming to include such weakness.

"I thank you for your stories, madam. Next time, let me tell you one. Now, I must find my master."

C9 made the customary splaying of the hands, parting his articulators into four distinct sections as was polite, then turned. His audio-scanners searched for the particular voice track of Firipp Kang, but he could not pick him out in all this din. Perhaps he had walked away? Did the human not understand how dangerous it was to simply walk away from his guide?

It could even be considered rude. What if he mucked up this entire operation? Why C9 would be made to scrap, or worse, sold to some farmboy on a backwater like Tattooine. No thank you. He would shudder if he could. Alas, he could not. Such expression was deemed unnecessary.

C9 walked at the most polite speed, heading right into the main foyer. It was lavish, clearly inspired by Canto Bright. It told C9 that this President, whoever he was, was a big fan of gambling and displays of wealth, as well as the obvious spice. That was good information, no doubt useful.

C9 looked for the other diplomats.
Darth Vornskr the Second
Objective B: Fight for the Empire's glory

The smell of incense an fragrant unguents filled Joycelyn's nostrils as her body was rubbed down in preparation for combat. The muscles in her back rippled as she stretched her hands up into the air. Her fingers curled into fists as her knuckles poppped. She drew a deep breath and held it tightly, before letting it out with a slow exhale. Tension left her shoulders as her hands slowly descended in front of her. Hands opening again, flames flickering over her fingers. Ash and chalk was thrown on her, sticking to the oil and making her dusky skin a dull grey.

Pythia finished the braid in her hair and tied it off at her neck. Traditional garments were brought in. As the vahlacanthix stared at the fire and the image of Vahl, each garment was put on her body. The chest bindingl and the short jacket. The shorts and the strapped sandals. It was all tied tight enough that it would not come loose, but free flowing enough to allow her unhindered movement. It was no challenge for experienced retainers.

"Mother Vahl, watch over me."

She picked up the sword from its stand in front of the fire and unsheathed it. Pythia took the black sheath away as Joycelyn inspected the blade. She could sense it will and its malice, reaching out to her.

"We will shed blood today."

Shouldering the blade, the tall Sith Knight wandered to the door and kicked it open with a bout of flame. The crowd cheered as she walked out into the ring, flames licking up along her ash-covered form. On the other end was a wolf-like creature with a spear, coming in with the same bravado as she herself displayed. The shistavaanen was an established champion of this gladiatorial ring, and Joycelyn Zambrano, Darth Vornskr II, would wrest that title away for the glory of the Sith Empire.

Via Dolorosa

Amans In Tenebris
Overlooking the valley where the outpost sprawled out like spider veins, Darth Venefica looked on from atop the rocky mountain. The outpost, currently, remained silent and calm; lacking any real movement but whether this was how it was naturally or made to appear in this manner was unknown. Attacking without concrete understanding of what lied inside was foolish and suicidal, and she was neither. Massed around her remained three of the four men who came to indulge in the festivities; the fourth on a 'special' recon mission. It was the success of this particular mission by the lone figure that determined when and when not to strike. Intel and fact finding was just as powerful as any man-made weapon; perhaps even more.
From behind the group, the figure returned drenched in sweat and his outfit splattered in blood.
"I was forced to interrogate one of the pirates," the man said.
"And what did he have for us," Darth Venefica inquired.
The man spoke to the group, pointing out two possible entry pointes, each one with it's own set of challenges and obstacles. But it wasn't getting into the compound that weighed on the Sith's mind, but the exact number of occupants.
"According to my 'friend', there is no more than fifteen bodies inside."
Looking over to the outpost, Darth Venefica wondered if the man had lied about the number. The outpost wasn't entirely big, just spread out which could host more than fifteen people. Regardless of the number, the Sith Lady and her cohorts had the element of surprise; an advantage that put the ensuing battle on even footing. Turning her face skyward, the day was surrendering to the night; adding more to the element they possessed.
"We leave when it's fully dark."

Sebastian Thel

Cipher Thel
Location: Veterned
Objective: Help a Stranger
Allies: [member="Lisanne Escher"]

"Just calm down!" Sebastian urged with his hands splayed against the air. He watched her eye the apartment door with furious intent and winced slightly in response to her temper.

The anger was clear in Lisanne's voice, telling him that she needed space. He backed away and allowed her a chance to cool off and gather her thoughts, while making sure there was enough distance between to avoid another punch. The woman's voice softened as she offered to pay back Sebastian for his help, to which he dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"Oh no, it's alright." Shaking his head, he refused the offer with a smile. "I'm not interested in money." Sebastian spoke the truth. For all the funds he organized and bank accounts he had sliced into, credits were only necessary to him and if he had what he needed to get by, then that was all he needed. "However, I need a transport off this planet and there aren't too many pilots around who speak basic." He finished.

"I like the first idea, if I'm being honest." Cupping his chin in his hand, he contemplated both ideas before reaching a conclusion. "Nothing good ever comes from gambling." He regretted the memories of Balmorra, where his mother had dragged him to card games and forced him to predict the outcomes of her bets. While it had not felt forced the first few times, she had scolded him whenever his estimations were wrong.

"Alright, I'll help you break into this fellow's apartment if you help me get off this planet." Sebastian affirmed and procured a small notebook from his pocket. His glasses hung from his collar, which he slid over his ears as he set the notebook up against the wall of the apartment building. He could tell that Lisanne was getting antsy and saw her itching to smash down the door as he looked over his shoulder. She may be disappointed to know that the task would be one of delicacy and stealth.

"We have plenty of time, Lisanne." Sebastian assured her as he began to estimate various levels of risk. "We'll be in there before he does away with your credits." As he jotted down figures, he moved away from the wall and walked around the side of the building, with Lisanne following behind. "My name is Sebastian, by the way." He turned around and smiled again.

"Now, I just need to make some calculations." Peering around the back of the building, he saw a rickety old door and a closed dumpster beneath a window. He splayed his notebook on the lid and analyzed his surroundings, forming every physical piece and producing an effective solution to the problem. With a spanner hooked onto one of his bracers, they were left with little tools. The window above the dumpster looked like a tight fit and Sebastian thought he could barely squeeze through.