Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public In Through The Guts


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Objectives: Reconnaissance, Disruption
Equipment: Datapad, Lightsaber (Hidden), Blaster Pistol (Stun-Only), Latch-on Thermal Detonator (x3)
Tags (Allies): Starbird Starbird | Faelyra Vynn Faelyra Vynn | Isobel Serraris Isobel Serraris | Mykel Dawson Mykel Dawson | Lestra Thairk Lestra Thairk or Thalen Dhorain Thalen Dhorain | OPEN
Tags (Opposition):
OPEN to Sith Covenant and Allied PCs

Infiltration had been as easy as expected. Easier, even. The Covenant, for all of the cruel efficacy it had brought to bear in the invasion, seemed to be resting on its laurels - or else was completely uninterested in maintaining a security apparatus.

A single freighter packed with Jedi, spies, and saboteurs had drifted into Coruscant's airspace unimpeded. No special stealth fields, no precautions except a spoofed identification code. And it had worked.

Catarina had allowed herself some small amusement over that. Levity was good for the soul, after all.

But now she sat at some dingy food cart, one-thousand-three-hundred-and-thirteen levels from the Coruscanti skyline, and that levity was gone. Even at its most beautiful, the so-called Galactic City felt oppressive to the young Jedi. Down here in the depths, where hope was a joke and your neighbor was as likely to gut you as greet you? The chemical pollution paled in comparison to the spiritual, and both could incapacitate an under-prepared adept.

Cat slid a dull grey credit chit towards the portly Genosian manning the cart, who palmed it and grunted inquisitively.

"Sour fry, please." She was soft, quiet, melancholy. Everything about her, from her voice to the drab greys and browns of her jumpsuit down to her presence in the Force screamed I'm not important. That suited her just fine.

Eventually, she received a bowl of something brownish-grey that may have passed for sour fry in poor lighting, which was her cue to pick it up and start walking. She did all of her best work in motion -

"- and Windrun had a scrap in the senate building -"

"- cut her own head off and just
put it back on -"

"- academy's going to hell -"


And she needed to focus if she wanted to hone in on the useful chatter.

 



IN THROUGH THE GUTS

LOCATION — Coruscant, Level 1313
OBJECTIVES — Initially. . . Sabotage and Humanitarian Aid
TAGS — Open for allies or opposition [contact me beforehand... preferably]
PARAPHERNALIA — Old civilian clothes, an old blaster pistol and concealed ruined lightsabers.


Lifeless buildings that climbed to the skies above, whilst they cast an eternal shadow upon the lives below. An echo of the relentless terror inflicted upon the innocent, and guilty, who were only just living--no, surviving in the the inescapeable lower levels of the city-planet.

Isobel had infiltrated the heart of the blight among a handful of other, foreign, allies. Foreign, indeed, as no face seemed to call forth a sense of recognition, but not that she was in the mood to alter that. Emotional ties would sever the probability of success. . . as the past had proven so visciously.

The corruption sang to her in whispered tunes, pouring its essence into her very veins as she took step after step throughout the horde of criminals and else. The Force sought not to conceal her, there was nought that would call for that yet, it instead whispered in the same frequency as the murmurs of the Bogan. Not that she, yet, realised that cruel truth.

Her steps were quieted, consumed by the loud clanking of droids, the repetitive footsteps of mercenaries and what else skulked around these streets. It was a plague, which showed no cure, except for the cold blade of mercy... no. The cure was extraction, not death, even if death was a possible alternative should the former fail.

But such thoughts were a possibility, not a guarantee. I will not fail. Echoed lonelily in her mind as her eyes attempted to scan the crowd for anything that may lead her to her objectives. Whispers of weakpoints, visual signs of the Sith Covenant. . .

Anything.
 

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Objectives: Reconnaissance, Disruption
Equipment: Shadowsun Field Generator (concealed), Armorweave (under clothes), Datapad, Lighwhip (concealed within nullification resin), Vibro-shiv
Allies: Jedi & Friends ( Catarina Talen Catarina Talen , Isobel Serraris Isobel Serraris , Starbird Starbird , Faelyra Vynn Faelyra Vynn , Lestra Thairk Lestra Thairk , Thalen Dhorain Thalen Dhorain )
Opposition: Sith
With: OPEN
Direct Opposition: OPEN

Appearance

Mykel had crammed himself into the freighter alongside the other Jedi and infiltrators, but from the moment the landing ramp had swung down from the clunker's hull, he was already peeling away on his own. There was no Jedi Knight, just another freight hand doing what freight hands always did after collecting their measly pay: making a beeline for the nearest cantina to get nice and drunk, and maybe even score some tail if the night went right.

Before his real mission could commence, blending was critical in these first moments of infiltration. Match the vibe or die. So Mykel tugged his weathered cap low, slouched his shoulders, and let the crowds swallow him on his way toward the flickering neon lights of a tavern that had caught his eye. All the while, he was but a speck in the Force.

He was going solo for now, but he was also just an encrypted text away.

 

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Objectives: Reconnaissance, Disruption
Equipment: Shield Gauntlets, Repulsor Belt, Plasteel Armor
Tags (Allies): Catarina Talen Catarina Talen | Faelyra Vynn Faelyra Vynn | Isobel Serraris Isobel Serraris | Mykel Dawson Mykel Dawson | Lestra Thairk Lestra Thairk | Thalen Dhorain Thalen Dhorain
Tags (Opposition): OPEN to Sith Covenant and Allied PCs

He had heard the rumors; strangers on 1313. What few allies he had in the lower levels had a network of informants, tattletales, and snitches who kept Starbird aware of most of the happenings of the criminal syndicates. Half a dozen of which were trying to figure out who owned the mysterious freighter that had deposited some off worlders on Coruscant. Most had already lost interest trying to identify the foreigners as soon as a lightsaber had been spotted behind a cloak or carelessly mentioned in the bustling streets of Galactic City. But that information had grabbed Starbirds attention. Jedi? Returning to Coruscant?

He sat in his dingy apartment staring at the closet he kept his equipment in, a bowl of cheap synth-noodles spiced with what ever he could afford growing cold in front of him. For a long time he had been laying low, going after local criminal gangs while avoiding any of the Sith. Did he really want to stick his neck out for these people? Draw the attention of Sith which he'd have to deal with long after these Jedi had completed their mission and gone home? Could he forgive himself if he didn't help?

He opened the door to the closet, staring at the orange cape and white armor as he left his noodles abandoned.

He would do his best.

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Level 1313 was like an old friend at this point. Too many little gangs constantly killing eachother and harassing the locals kept him busy in his eternal war on crime in the lower levels. So it hadn't been too difficult to go to his normal perch above the ventilation, pipes, and electrics that ran above the busy streets of the Coruscant underlevel. He watched from the shadows the coming and going of the crowd, trying to identify anyone he knew or could identify as Jedi; though his time at the Jedi Temple was long past.

The force pushed on his senses as he reached out, feeling only vague or misshapen influences of others. He had never been good with the force, but at least he knew they were here. Somewhere.

For now all he could do is sit and wait. Maybe the Sith wouldn't even intervene? Unlikely. If he had heard of these offworlders odds are the Sith had too in one way or another.

He would have to fight soon, fight like he'd never had to before.

So he would sit cross legged and meditate, waiting for his time.

 

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"There. Your cybernetics have been modified as requested." A translator droid spoke up for the Ugnaught that had been repairing and altering Ziso's cybernetic parts. Leaner, more compact. Able to expand to it's former size. The life of an assassin needed as many tools for surprise as possible, and this alteration should give her an edge she felt she was missing. She stood to her new full height, barely the height of a human, before nodding once.

"Good."

There was an idle flex of her clawed hands before she pulled her cloak back over her shoulders, lifted her hood above her head. Shrouded once more in darkness, where she belonged.

"You will leave now Sith. I have spo-" There was a machinelike screech as the droid collapsed onto itself, broken as the Force bent. Ziso turned to the Ugnaught, who was now panicking. Surprise was a weapon all assassins needed, and loose ends were a threat. "A painless death is my thanks to you."

Ziso would emerge from the workshop, having set it to torch. Nothing was allowed to remain, everything being burnt straight to the foundations. Whether or not the fire spread was of little concern for the Sith. There'd be no evidence of her modifications to be found, all consumed by the heat. This was a Sith's world after all, there'd be no concern for some do gooders stopping her this low in the city.
 

In the aftermath of her duel with Vestra Tane Vestra Tane , Arris Windrun wandered the street in search of a good cyberdoc. Well, 'good' was subjective as always, but the cyborg was an utter mess. Triumvir of the Sith Covenant, and the one who led the strike on Genarius that destroyed Edic Bar.

If there was ever a vital sign of the Covenant, then there it was. And oh, she appeared so, so weak. Her cyber arms were fully exposed, repaired only to a point of practical use, but useless to scrap with. And the rest of her body was marred with the telltale signs of lightsaber damage.

Still, the crowd generally steered clear of her, making way for the blonde to sulk on through.

She wondered what her apprentice, Acier Moonbound Acier Moonbound , would think when he found out that Vestra was dead.
 

Tags: Not interacting with anyone yet so no tags!

The old duracrete jungle. It had been far too long since Lestra had last been on Coruscant, and if you asked him, he'd say it wasn't long enough. There was a part of him that was on edge, wondering if this was some kind of trap. It had been far too easy for them to get planet-side. Even the Empire had been more strict on who had arrived. It was why he had never attempted to try and infilitrate himself. Yet as he sat on his lonesome, taking in the streets and watching those who shuffled around as if misery was something they could live off...Lestra wondered what the point was.

Stealth work was something he had some experience with...but normally he'd have some manner of fauna to use to aid his investigations. Right now, most rats or similar creatures he could find seemed to be getting cooked as if they were some exotic meat. Perhaps this low down, it was merely exotic to have some form of natural meat.

For now, he kept to himself, stomping his foot on a loose pipe he had found on the floor, flicking it straight up into his hand and weighing it for a moment. He hadn't brought his own weapon, as much as having it would have been a boon, part of him felt like carrying a spear around would have caused him to stick out like a sore thumb. But the pipe seemed well balanced enough for him to use as an alternative. Now, it was just time for him to wander over yonder.
 

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