Dominion It Belongs in a Museum | CIS Dominion of Abregado-Rae Hex

[Aspect of Defiance]

​

Abregado-Rae, known as a safe haven for the scum and villainy of the galaxy, struggled with keeping any form of law and order on the planet. The main spaceport is the central hive of all sorts of activities in which most civilized nations would find questionable. At the worst—highly illegal. This means that all manner of items and cargo pass through customs and inspections with typically fudged inventory logs. Sometimes it comes up missing. Sometimes, customs officers liberate the packages and flag them as hazardous. These items often mysteriously disappear in transit and any physical record of their existence conveniently vanishes. These items typically tend to show up for sale on the DarkNet straight afterward. The place to collect your one of a kind bio-weapon, spice, crystals, and maybe even people?

Abregado-Rae.

One such item found itself in the hands of Corso Brand, smuggler extraordinaire, who managed to abscond from the port with an ancient doo-hicky. He didn’t much care what it was, or what it did, but he knew someone would pay a heapton of credits for it. The box itself was simple. What piqued one’s curiosity was the fact the box itself was chained, locked, and came with a warning attached to it.

DO NOT OPEN

What was a warning to a Corellian? Usually nothing, and Corso Brand was no exception to the stereotype. He was bored while awaiting a response from a potential buyer. Surely, a peek couldn’t hurt. Picking the lock itself was a fairly easy task, and as he looked at the warning one last time, Corso tossed it aside like a piece of garbage before lifting the lid on the artifact.

Huh. Weird. The object inside looked like nothing. Nothing special, anyway. It was a simple orb that seemed to be made from some sort of metal. The Corellian snorted. Rich people. They would pay all this money for a crappy shockball sphere? He went to close the lid, to put it away, and yet something about it drew him in. He found himself reaching into the box without thinking.That would prove to be a mistake. The silver orb began to vibrate upon contact. He lifted it up and felt a surge past through his arm, zinging, all the way up to his head. At that moment something sent a ripple of energy through the entire spaceport and the surrounding area.

Of all days this was not the most ideal. In an effort to clean up the spaceport or at least deal with some trafficking issues the Confederacy of Independent Systems had been invited to clear out some of the more illegal activity. The authorities had all but given up. There would never be any way to completely clear out criminal elements but the CIS could certainly try. Slavery was not something they could, or would, actively abide. There was a supported rumor of an underground slave-trading ring which was said to be based out of the starport. The mission was supposed to be simple and routine, but the effects of the artifact would make it anything but.

As Confederate forces moved through the spaceport, the energy coming from the artifact would begin to affect them. All kinds of strange things began to happen, and it seemed there were many different reactions to it. One thing was certain. As long as the artifact remained activated the spaceport was going to be bag-full-of-lothcats crazy.

OBJECTIVES:

Spoiler

Get rid of the Ancient Artifact making everyone do the wacky. Find the hidey-hole in the spaceport that Corso Brand is in, take the artifact, and make it go away. If you can’t shut it off with the Force? Well, Break it. Bomb it. Throw it into a black hole if you must but get it gone.

Uh...Underground slave trading in CIS space? I think not. Send those slavers packing and let the prisoners go.

Well. It’s a pretty interesting place even when things haven’t gone topsy-turvy. You could find plenty of tainted credits, cursed jawa paws, or shrunken heads to buy along with a variety of other vendors. There’s a tavern. A mechanic shop and gambling dens with spice on tap...It’s a hive of scum and villainy. You name it? They got it.

[Keep in mind that everyone should be feeling the effects of the artifact...Might make haggling for that cursed jawa paw really hard or extra easy.]

CURSES:

1. Life’s a Song - Sing everything. You got it, every word.
2. Love at First Sight - Fall in love with the first person you see. When they leave your field of vision fall in love with someone new. Expect bouts of irrational jealousy.
3. Baby Talk - Speak in total gibberish. You try and you try but forming real sentences? Not in the cards. Sorry, not today my friend.
4. What’s My Name Again? - Short-term memory loss. You’ll be able to retain incidents from ten years ago, but, be totally fuzzy on details that happened minutes prior.
5. Thiiiiiiirsty - Become incredibly thirsty. This can be taken a number of ways. Perhaps you really, really crave water. Or perhaps you really, really crave the Knight Obsidian next to you. The choice is yours.
6. Dizzy - No, not the silver fox in the Discord. Actually...Wait. Sure. Why not? Be Dizzy (Or one of his characters) and if you’re not familiar you can also develop some seriously intense vertigo.
7. Teen Wolf - Choose an animal to mimic. It doesn’t need to be a wolf. You could range from goldfish to Garza and maybe even a Quacklord. We’ll love watching you stomp around like King of the Monsters or a wee little baby shark (do do do do do do) with anything you choose.
8. Gender Swap - Choose any variant you wish. You can choose how far you want the curse to go. Is it just mannerisms? Or a full-on physical switcheroo too? Good luck, have fun, the decision is yours.
9. Compulsively Lie - Listen I never tell the truth, so believe me when I say that right now… I’m lying...So...Seriously. Like, I love you man...
10. Regress to a Teenager - Ah. This is a visit down memory lane. What was your character like before they could drive spaceships, kick tail-feather, and drop in on some unsuspecting fool like a jawesome spacer? Were they nerdy? Sweet? Timid? Have fun

[To choose your curse roll a 1D-10 in the CIS Discord Dominion Channel by typing “/r 1d10” or you can edit your post and “throw dice” on the site. It’s an honor system, but, you can state what your roll was at the top of your post if you wish or cap it from the discord and link it. No pressure. The most important thing is to have fun.]

LOCATION BLING:

Spoiler

Spaceport Proper: [Contains Tavern, Shops, Etc...]

Corso Brand's Wacky Shack: [Hidden Behind a Blue Milk stand. It’s a fairly small flat but it does have a few crude defenses to keep people out. In general, people tend to get robbed a lot in Abregado-Rae. Poor Corso won’t see the CIS coming.]

The Underground: [A dank dark area with many hidden tunnels. It seems very seedy and grungy. Living conditions would be...Poor.]

CIS TAG LIST:

Spoiler

Alden Akaran
Alkor Centaris
Amelia von Sorenn
Ari Riggs
Arisone Irithiel
Archon Xris
Ashara Evanaris
Aston Jacobs
Aya Clarke
Beric Layne
Bullwark
BX-1335
Caesar Kenway
Corvus Dravere
Credius Nargath
Cypher Raige
Damsy Callat
Darth Pryde
Decious
Destroyer 2873
Eli-Mae Forrest
Fawn Alzi
Faye Malvern
FN-1138
Gerwald Lechner
IG-65A
Ingrid L'lerim
Joannis Campbell
John Locke
Suravi Teigra
Karlie Lynn Destat
Kasca Fen
Kathryn Foster
Kayla Wylen
Kiff Brayde
Krystal
Kurenai Yumi
Kyber
Kyrinov
Lady Moll
Lirka Ka
Luna Terrik
Luna Vega
Lyla Quinn
Maani
Maple Harte
Maria Savilia
Maur
Muad Dib
Myrrdin_Emries
Nine Lives
Petra Cavataio
LGMForever
R4-AUD
Razelle Breuner
Roy Americus
Rylan Kordel
SC-A1
Srina Talon
Startorn
Subject 73 Red
Talon Rahl
ToKola Bakari
Tess Valnora
Teyla Riggs
Tyran Numeck
Valencia Hadley
Vanric Dannon
Veronika Fleischer
Visanj T'shkali
Kyyrk
Vyse Valorous
Vytal Noctura

 

[Kyyrk]

Curse: Compulsive Liar
Tags: None Yet
​

Voph was having a great day. The population of the Confederacy was intact, and they knew exactly what the cause was. Voph. Was. Happy. And what better way to celebrate with a good ole glass of water? The sweet taste that made everything so much clearer. Or at least, that's what he would have told anyone who asked.

In truth, Voph was somewhat disturbed. He'd been rather snarky since getting to the spaceport, and, though he was often known for being vague, he found himself actively avoiding being direct with people. Matter of fact, he'd said that he was going to patrol a number of docks. And yet here he sat, in the local pub. It was going to be a strange day....

 

[Eli-Mae Forrest]

Objective:

Curse: Love at first sight
Tags: None yet​

As Eli-Mae stepped off of her shuttle she began to feel strange, as she made her way through the checkpoint her heart began to race, the young woman did not know why but her face grew warm to the touch as she looked around, it was then that the lithe redhead laid eyes on her former master Kyyrk it was then that the young woman began to notice the small details about the man's form.

Every detail from his long raven hair to the cloth used to cover his non-existent eyes to the scar running under his right eye. it was then that Eli-Mae's heart began to pound. her porcelain face had turned hot pink. Eli stopped moving forward and instead started moving toward the pub where her former master sat. When she finally comes within earshot of the man she said "Why hello there" Her baby blue eyes fixed on the man as she bit her bottom lip

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Curse: Dizzy
Tags: Open
​

Go free the slaves.

Did a Nightsister abide slavery? Some might think the way the Nightbrothers were treated might constitute the practice. Vytal thought such people narrow-minded. The men of Dathomir were not slaves. While it was true some Sisters might be harsh -- even cruel -- she had yet to find the galaxy a finer example of paradise where everyone lived in harmony. If anything, the Witches of Dathomir (Light or Dark) were better example of living in harmony with the world and one another. On the other hand, their culture wasn't beset by countless distractions and needless wants.

Go free the slaves. Yes, a fine task. Worthy of the Knights Obsidian. Not of the Mandragora. They were a coven of study and balance, not a bunch of ideologues seeking to change the galaxy. There were plenty of Knights quite up to the task, and so Vytal entrusted it to them. If they had need of someone with mystic persuasion they would reach out.

That was before a strange ripple reached the Nightmother. It had been faint, but the distance it had traveled was vast. So wide a gulf, in fact, that it reached her at all was enough to draw notice. Surely others in the galaxy would have felt it as well, and so she conjured a gate to the world to hasten her arrival (and any that joined).

Vytal strode through the gate as she spoke, "An artifact of some influence is on this world -- Abregado-Rae -- and we will find it, return it to our Vault, and," her declaration was cut short when her pale figure dropped to one knee and her shoulder struck a nearby wall. The gate had opened in a narrow side street to avoid standing out or threatening bodily harm. A breathy gush of air was forced from her lips before Vytal sought to draw in a deep breath. One hand pressed against the wall to push her upper body further from it.

A fine sheen of sweat dotted her brow as she fought the foreign sensation that continued to wash over her. Those that had made it through would find the way back abruptly gone. Fortunately the spirits would not do anything cliche such as cutting a passenger in half by not making it out in time; but neither would they hold it open if the Nightmother's will did not require it. In that moment, her will was fixated on regaining her footing.

 

[Sasha Fox]

Objective:

Curse: Life's a song
Tag: Damsy Callat​

For Sasha this mission seemed like a step back to simpler times, when she received the message from her superiors she felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest. In the few months she had been in command of The Geonosis Pride had been a bumpy ride, starting just after the siege of Ryloth where the captain of the vessel and most of its bridge crew were killed leaving Sasha as the highest-ranking officer on board. It was then her immediate job to promote several members of her crew to reform a bridge crew for the ship. From there Sasha was let in on the fact that they had been boarded by the enemy, it was then that a young Corporal Damsy Callat and Sasha's second in command William Quincy were sent to clear the lower hangar decks. From then on things mostly went to plan but her new commission was in desperate need of an update to its arms and armor as well as its contingent of starfighters. However, for now, Sasha was due to head to the surface to flush out the slavers on this planet.

As soon as the transmission came through Sasha made her way from her seat on the bridge to her operations office which sat just off the bridge behind a thick blast door. Once inside Sasha walked over to where a palm scanner was mounted to the wall, upon placing her hand on it the wall section just beside it slid forward and the small captain looked inside seeing her arsenal of weapons. Reaching forward she grabbed 6 throwing knives from their place and placed them in holsters she had made for them sitting just under the back of her skirt hiding them from view. Once that was done she grabbed her twin blaster pistols and put them in her thigh holsters. Turning to her armor section she found her custom made breastplate, while it would offer a decent amount of protection from blades and blasters any slugthrowers or lightsabers would cut straight through it. once she put it on she then grabbed a top to place over it to not make it obvious she was wearing any armor.

Once she was armed to the teeth and had a layer of protection she stepped back onto the bridge and was met with her second's call of "Captain on the bridge" As her men saluted her she said "Stand down men I am heading out. Quincy, you have the con" Walking to the door Sasha made her way down to the hangar deck, she was met by the current air boss who had taken her place telling her that her shuttle was waiting. Sasha thanked her and made her way to the shuttle.

Once she was on board she automatically made her way to the cockpit and took the controls. Hoping Corporal Callat was with her.

Once she had landed the ship she stepped down from the ramp of the ship she was hit with a massive wave of energy. It took her a moment to get her mind straight before turning to the corporal who was looking as lovely as ever "What's going on" Except when she spoke it wasn't her normal voice that came out, it was but she wasn't speaking normal, she was singing in fact which was nothing like her, her singing voice was light and airy, not being able to stop her words from flowing together would kill the small captain.

 

[Malok]

F R E E D O M​

Tag: Ticca + Open

Abregado-Rae.

When Darth Metus was a far younger being, the Shadowport had belonged to an entity devoted to law and order. The Omega Protectorate had converted the world from a cesspool into something presentable. Industry. Progress. Upstanding citizenry frequented the world - or at least, that was the reputation the planet held. The Sith, himself, had only heard of this gilded reputation through the rumors ferried by the Hyperlanes. Now, so long in the future, he wondered if there was any truth to the stories. Time changed things - this was indeed a fact. Yet, as a world once held by the Alliance and the Protectorate before it...how could it have fallen so far, so quickly?

In truth, the Sith was beginning to see the truth in the cold whispers uttered by his primordial companion.

On the day that she had descended into his world, there was doubt aplenty residing in his stomach. She preached a gospel of days that had yet to come. Of a Galaxy made peaceful by his efforts. In the present, the effort was well underway: the Confederacy grew with each day. Including this one. Yet, there was so much more to that which the woman promised. The Galaxy needed him to push harder. Cesspools like Abregado-Rae could not be allowed to prosper. And, despite their wars abroad, new Empires continued to rise. One would fall to their sword, two more would crop up.

Something had to give. Darth Metus was beginning to think...that Darth Elyria was right.

When it came to Abregado-Rae, those who attempted to maintain order had all but thrown up their hands in defeat. Thus, it fell to the Confederacy to crush the sordid realities and to restore the gilded reputation of the world. Chief among the Sith's priorities was the quelling of a slaver ring within the world's underbelly. With his boots now freshly on the ground, Darth Metus led a small detachment to personally see to this task. There was but one offense by Confederate Law - his Law - which was punished by the sword immediately. Slavery.

Yet, as the cadre of brave souls arrived at the source of the practice, the Force went wild within the City. Darth Metus felt the artifact's might only seconds before the changes took hold. He felt strange. Yet whole. One of the troopers asked the obvious - was he alright? The Sith opened his tongue, intent on stating that he was "fine." Yet, the words which escaped were not his own. A bold-faced lie. "Not at all trooper." The response was one of immediate concern, yet Darth Metus waved the man away.

"Don't worry about me, breach this fething door."

The durasteel doors were then promptly subjected to heavy boots pounding them down. Dauntless Commandos, Droids, Obsidian Knights, and the Vicelord himself stepped within. What they found appeared to be a brothel crossed with a kennel. Cages lined the walls. Women, bound in chains, were paraded upon a makeshift stage. Buyers waved credits about, shouting bids - yet their "auction" ceased as the blasters began to fire. As for the Sith, his saber came alive.

Snap. Hiss.​

 

[Darth Elyria]

I Rolled A 6 - Guess I'm Dizzy

Tag: Malok

What a sordid and backwater little world.

What was she doing here? She cast a side-eyed look at the Vicelord while he furiously tried to get his chess pieces to move the way he wanted. Her eyes rolled heavenward. Bored, now. Didn’t he know the Queen was absolute? The King was powerful. Influential. To win this game of territory and might one always needed to capture the crown. But the Queen? The long, long arm of her reach was unfathomable. He moved to the enemies directly adjacent to him.

She slapped them in the face from one side of the board to the other. And smiled, all fang, all threat—And eventual deliverance. Elyria would devour the peasantry alive.

The raven-haired woman allowed herself to wander away from Malok whilst she visually examined the many areas of the Spaceport. Was this world really worth saving? It seemed like a cesspool and a resource pit. Perhaps, she would find something intriguing to purchase. Cursed Jawa-Paws seemed to be a common theme. The opposite of a lucky rabbit’s foot. Give it to someone you hate?

Curse them with unluckiness and misery until they realized what it was that was driving them to madness and got rid of it. That caused a sight smile to cross blood-red lips. It amused her. In a quaint, heathen, sort of way. Light fingertips graced the goods that she passed but something interesting filled the air. It was power. Energy, old. She breathed it in. “Interesting…”, she murmured, quickly, losing interest in the tourist trap. Despite the fact that she was rather ancient...This? This might be older.

Eyes of midnight settled on a horned Devaronian that was seated near the outside of a tequila bar. For some reason, she felt stirrings that she had all but ignored since her awakening. Her head tilted. She couldn’t tell if it was hunger, the endless, painful ache for sustenance, that was rarely satiated—Or something else. Caught between a ridiculous craving for raw meat and running barefoot in the forest she came to the conclusion that it was very much so something new: Desire.

What she wanted? She wanted. What she wanted? She would have.

She felt a shift. The sound of a lightsaber igniting in the ether. Ah, Metus was having his fun whilst wiping out the vermin. Now? She would do the same.

The red-skinned creature would feel her approach like a celestial object that blocked out the sun. Her shadow rose like a black ocean. She would invade every piece of him. Hear her voice murmur secrets in his mind. He would taste rain and jasmine over alcohol—and he would choke on it. Elyria moved restlessly in the dark and silken hair reached out to tap the demon-man on the shoulder. He turned around, no doubt to bellow, but he froze mid-sentence. “The dark…It makes you feel better—Doesn’t it? Better than your drink…Better than this place…”

Her eyes held his. Fathomless. Her body swayed and slowly he fell under her spell and began to sway with her. He could see nothing. Hear nothing. Think nothing, other, than what she wished. “Be.”

“In my eyes. Be in me.”

And he was. So wrapped up, so lost, in the sweet and dangerous shadows that they carried his senses away like water running downstream. Elyria rolled his mind, uncaring of the consequences, and ensured he belonged to her. The pale woman moved closer and let her hand fall along the cheek of the Devaronian. Blood red lips curved upward in hollow, ruthless, enjoyment. “I hear you have two livers.”

She leaned forward and let her lips brush against his while she spoke. The Devaronian seemed to want to close the distance. Elyria pulled back. Oh, her self-control was all but gone. Whisked away with the power that had flown through the spaceport. Elyria was ravenous and this devil looked good enough to eat.

“Can you survive with one?”
​

 

[Lunara Azure]

​

Lunara had been feeling..off ever since arriving on the planet, feeling far from herself, far from normal. She couldn't quite understand it, couldn't quite put a finger on. It was as if her whole body felt different, weird as if she didn't feel at home in her own body anymore. It wasn't a feeling she could ever remember feeling, not one that was particularly welcome either. Normally all she needed to do was reach out to the force, to let the energy wash over her to push away any misgivings, any feelings of oddness that might consume her, that might be sneaking up on her. Lunara rarely fell sick, rarely suffered from a malaise, which made this whole episode more difficult to deal with. None of her usual tricks were working and she didn't like this one bit.

Normally one for groups, for going with her allies and friends to deal with whatever threat might face them, it just...wasn't in her today. The white-haired one had slipped away from the other confederates she's arrived with. If she was going to be off then she'd rather not put them in any danger through slipping up at a key moment. Maybe a walk, a bit of fresh air was what she needed.

At least that had been the hope, it was just, even as she walked, her body, her clothes felt all wrong, all off. Loos in some places, tight in others, as if they were designed for someone else. The market was full of life, but she barely registered it staggering to settled herself on the edge of a fountain, jusdt sucking in a deep breath as she turned to glance down at the water.

"Come on, get your self tog...."

The person looking back in her reflection wasn't her, not really. The features were there, but different. Delicate fingers reached up, probing the face...her face as Lunara's eyes widening in shock, in horror. Hands patted down her body, finding things that weren't supposed to be there, not finding some that were.

"Oh for Light's sake"

This was one of those force problems everyone kept talking about, one of those weird conundrums, wasn't it? A balled-up fist shattered the still surface of the water as Lunara got to her feet.

"Ok, first a change of clothes and then a drink..."

A look down at the surface of the water, at the broken reflection there.

"A lot of drinks."

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Dizzy - Gender Swap
Malok , Darth Elyria , Lunara Azure
Taramaz Equipment: Mark-V Centurion Battlearmour, VG-01 Revolvers, Pride and Freedom
Guard Equipment: Mark-V Centurion Battlearmour, Hellbark Shotgun ​

Taramaz would have preferred the full force of the Viceguard to accompany him on this mission. Of course, he had done the proper research on the planet, and it was quite unsavoury, to say the least about it. If Mos Eisley was the hive of Scum and Villainy, then Abregado-Rae was where the workers went to plunder and bring it back to their queen. Not even the officials of the planet were to be trusted anymore. In fact, that played into one of the main reasons why he had only taken another Viceguard with him, this one slightly shorter, about three inches and a 3/4 shorter, to be precise. The other eight of the Viceguard remained at the residence of the Vicelord, where an expertly conjured reflection had been conjured, it would last a week at most due to it's complexity.

The two 14 foot figures marched five steps ahead of the Vicelord, parting the crowd for the Vicelord while the troopers the Vicelord had, for whatever reason, deemed necessary marched behind the ones that so greatly outclassed their power. He had seen a number of Knights Obsidian in the mix, which was one of the few comforting thoughts. The two glowing red visors turned, swivelling as if they were on an axis, scanning the area ahead of them.

The Sean-Olc duo were unusually attuned to the Force, and had felt the Artefact's power unleashed almost as soon as the box was opened, and gained themselves an extra 20 seconds before the artefact surged. They braced, closing in on the Vicelord, Taramaz igniting his crossguard sabers, and the other Viceguard raising the shotgun. Then the artefact surged, sending a pulse-wave of the Force throughout the city. A glance to the Guard Captain's left confirmed his feelings, the Guardsman had felt it too.

Then as Taramaz looked forward once more, he felt his head spin as if it had just been grabbed and rolled like one of those holonet cartoons. He became vaguely aware of a slight morph in his body. He felt things change, noticing that his armour didn't quite fit him right for a moment. Then it readjusted itself. At first he believed it to be a slightly harmless glitch in the suit's size adjustment system. He turned his vision to the Vicelord, feeling a nature within his brother and charge change, yet he couldn't quite pinpoint what. He concentrated his will on his brother, reading his emotions faintly. He had sensed the involuntary change in nature, and a faint reaction from Metus.

And with that message, Taramaz turned his vision back forward, blurring more than usual. He then walked forward, he and the guardsman wobbling slightly at first, then steadying themselves into what could be conceived as a more tactical position for their height, though in reality it was the closest they could get to actual walking. As they approached the durasteel doors, Taramaz raised two fingers, pointing one at the top left corner of the door, one at the bottom left.

He then ignited Pride, stabbing it into the top right corner of the durasteel door, then quickly sliced down along the edge to the bottom right corner. The guardsman fired two slugshots into the door, one in each left corner. They then backed up, and kicked the door down, knocking it off it's hinges. They stepped into the room first. Taramaz deflected three shots intended for the head of a regular human, but was closer to his groin than all else. Except, even as he had swung his blade in a regular, practised motion that he had perfected, it went wild, the bolts deflecting off the wrong point of his blade. He shrugged it off as a miscalculation. He then reached for Freedom, throwing the silver blade wide as it began to slice through cage bars, going completely wide of it's targeted four patrons.

Taramaz cursed, and summoned the blade back to him, yet it missed the return impaling, and landed in the wall, just barely missing his torso. He cursed again, and deactivated his sabers, placing them on his belt. He then walked up to the closest patron and grabbed the blaster by the barrel as the unfortunate victim froze up, then the barrel began to heat up, melting into molten metal on the floor. Taramaz then backhanded the patron, denting his face in an unhealthy amount. He walked up to the next patron, and grabbed it by it's neck, throwing the helpless body effortlessly towards his Vicelord. He glanced quickly over, and saw that his fellow guardsman had adopted a similar, brutal tactic.

He continued walked forward, extending his arm to grab the next patron, who he then smashed into the cage bars, killing the patron instantly. He then grabbed the limp body by the ankle, and threw it at the next patron in his warpath, the throw going two low, and simply knocking the living forward. Taramaz walked forward, and bent the man's head backwards an unhealthy amount, then let the body fall under his boot, where it was then crushed, a certain death. He was left with one patron in his path who had a hint of intelligence, grabbing the nearest slave and pointing a blaster at her head. He took another step forward, the blaster bolt firing, but before it had made contact with the head of the twi'lek slave, the bolt had frozen mid-air, evidence only by the outstretched hand of the tall terror that slowly approached the daring patron. The terror closed his fist, the plasma of the blast dissipating harmlessly into the air. He then looked at the man, and shot a grappling hook which wrapped itself around the man's neck. He then quickly retracted it.

The man was pulled forward, face first, into the barrel of a waiting revolver. Taramaz quickly pulled the trigger, firing both barrels into the man's head, blowing it clean off. He then unhooked the grappling line and holstered his revolver. As he did, the faint adrenaline wore off, and Taramaz became only vaguely aware of his own actions. He began to walk towards a wall to lean on, yet walked through a door instead. After that, it all became a blur. He found himself wandering, wandering until he came to a small fountain which, to tell the truth, he almost fell into. However, he steadied himself, and opted to blend in and sit down on the edge. He looked up, his gaze turning to a vaguely reminiscent presence in the force, present in a hardly recognisable figure. His fellow Lord Marshal, Lunara Azure . He raised his hand in a faint wave. Perhaps the force pulse had not been a targeted attack, as he now began to notice several of the inhabitants of the planet stumbling, or confused, in other words, acting strangely. Too strangely for it not to be the Force.

 

[Taiia Mataan]

Curse: Life's a song
Tag: Malok
​

.​

Freedom​

​

Taiia had been on the planet for only a few minutes before she could sense something was wrong, there were a number of people here from the confederacy that she could feel, several were very powerful, her eyes scanned her surroundings determining her course of action. What she had not felt was the sudden energy that hit here the power of the artifact whatever it was, she had not known what happened on that it had and then she heard blaster fire and breaching charges. Clearly it had begun, she took off in a full sprint, her white robe unfurling behind her as she ran through the streets dodging all manner of obstructions on the way before arriving at a door leading into the chaos.​

​

She paused at the doorway and the scene inside as she draw her lightstaff, she saw the cages the bodies of some of the slavers and possibly some of the slaves, blaster fire rang out in every corner of the room and in the center of it all Darth Metus the glow of his red saber painting the dimly lit room in the shade of blood, it seemed appropriate and she could feel her own anger rising, she paused took a breath and found balance again and that is when the familiar sound of her lightsaber igniting would add to the chorus of sounds and immediately the silver blade drew the attention of those not currently focused on Metus.​

​

Without warning she lept into the air vaulting over Metus and landing in the middle of a group of slavers, when she landed she used the force to lift everyone around her up into the air and in a fell swoop she jumped up with them twirling the staff in a beautiful spinning arc that ended the lives of several slavers, the sound of the lightsaber tearing through flesh before searing the wound closed again filled her ears, and she landed as a few bodies landed near her. Far too brutal of a move for a Jedi but then she was no Jedi but again she calmed herself and stood unlocking her staff and separated the hilts now wielding two silver bladed sabers she looked to Metus and nodded and knocked a blaster bolt out of the air and into the wall.​

​

 

[Srina Talon]

I don't live in Darkness.
Darkness lives in me. ​

Location: Abregado-Rae [Spaceport]
Tags: Eira Talon | Darth Empyrean
Curse: Life's A Song [Current Song]

Srina stepped down from the Ferocity and briefly shielded her eyes from the brightness of the day. It was a decent distance from Geonosis and she’d made her travel a straight line. Eira Talon was aboard, but, to her knowledge, the young woman was resting. Srina could not take her younger sibling as an apprentice, because she was an apprentice herself, but she could show her how to adapt to her newfound abilities. There was no resting in her training program. No distractions. No nonsense. Twin Magnaguard walked menacingly at her side. The deep purple tunics they wore with little Confederate hexes etched into the fabric did nothing to dull the nightmarish red of their eyes. They saw nothing, heard nothing, but the will of their mistress. Even if some had a facsimile of humor—They were not protocol droids. They were not astro-mechs. They were brutal, efficient, killing machines.

The exceedingly pale Exarch was an imposing figure in a set Strike Armor. Long white-gold hair had been swept up into a severe ponytail. Braids, traditional, lined silken tresses but the rest of her form appeared entirely militaristic. She had plenty of things to teach and impart to the local authorities of this planet. They had failed in their duties. Utterly and completely. She would seek out the worst of the criminal elements and educate their enablers whilst her Master decimated the underground slave ring.

At least—That would have been the case were it not for an off-putting wave that echoed through the area. Her hand fell over her stomach as a sense of nausea washed over her. Was it the sudden change in altitude? The appearance of real gravity?

It felt deeper than that. Sinuous. Sneaky.

Frowning the Exarch continued forward and made it to the rather small militia precinct that both served as a governing body and law enforcement for the spaceport. It was under-funded. Under-staffed. Srina had a solution. It came in the form of hundreds of deactivated droids, weaponry, and armor support. They had no means to fight back against the wave of terror that had forced organized crime to a pitiless grave. When the portal slipped open and her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light—The scene was dismal.

Some personnel were fighting. Others, all over each other. Some crawled on all fours like beasts while others were grumbling and mumbling incoherently. “…Stop! What do you—”

Her hand came to rest at the base of her throat. Singing. Srina did not sing in public. She rarely sang at all. No. Oh, no. Not this again. The last time she’d found herself compelled to sing against her will had been on the Fortressa. “Why does this keep happening?”

“You. You, and you!”

She did her best not to react or cringe. Srina was irritated but the impenetrable marble of her features remained in place. Her hand rose and delicate fingers extended. The people in the room were ripped apart from each other rather violently and were sent tumbling backward away from each other. “Get ahold of yourselves! Let’s get down to business, to defeat, your bums. Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?”

“You’re the saddest bunch I’ve ever met. But, you can bet—Before we’re through. I’ll make men out of you.”

The law enforcement officials blinked at her owlishly and slowly climbed to their feet. The shock of being knocked on their collective arses seemed to have pulled them out of being lost in whatever it was that had corrupted their better senses. At least for a moment or two. One of the men nearest to her approached with wide, infatuated eyes, and reached for her arm. Her hand snapped out and she had the idiot in a headlock before he could make contact.

“B-But you’re so beautiful. Let me love you—”, he choked out, and she squeezed tighter.

“Snap out of it! Once you find your center, you are sure to win. You’re a spineless, pale, pathetic lot…”, she intoned, her musical tones carrying sweetly, but firm throughout the precinct. Her singing voice was actually quite pleasant. It would have been more so if she wasn’t insulting and belittling them with every note. “And you haven’t got a clue.”

“Somehow…”, Srina glanced at the babbling moron in the corner, her voice trailing off, while the Magnaguard stared blankly. She needed more hands to deal with this. Short of putting them in a coma by bashing their heads into the floor she wasn’t sure how to sedate them. Perhaps, with the Force?

Somehow. She would fix this. Making men out of these weaklings?

It felt close to impossible.

 

[Daisy Americus]

Location: The Underground
Tag: Kaden Farr | Malok | Taiia Mataan | Ticca
Curse: Gender Swap - Uh. So, I'm a boy. This is new.

Daisy walked through the bazaar with a purple and white patterned beskar helmet under her arm. Thick golden-locks were pulled back into a braid so it would stay out of her way but a few lazy tendrils fell in soft curls. Abregado-Rae wasn’t exactly what she expected it to be. There were plenty of shady things going down, for sure, but there were also people just trying to live their lives. The Guild had put up a request for outside help in dealing with the slave trade. Daisy had mixed feelings. But, a job was a job. ​

​

Credits were credits. They all spent—All the same. ​

​

She had a variety of weapons on her person. Prepared. As well as she could be. The tall woman waited for Kaden Farr before moving out. They were close. With that in mind, the tended to try and pick up jobs where more than one mercenary was required. Daisy didn’t talk about it much, but, she missed him when he was away too long. She got used to him being there. When he wasn’t? She felt bereft. ​

​

Like something was missing. ​

​

Out of nowhere, she had a craving for ale. Cheap, dirty. It was odd because Tihaar over ice was her drink of choice. She wanted something else. Ne'tra gal. With a side of spiced leathermeat and bas neral porridge. All things that her brothers loved, but, she had never enjoyed. Brilliant aquamarine eyes followed a few of the female shop-keeps while she suddenly became aware that her armor felt wrong. The color was off. Everything felt weird. “Ah…Kaden? Ah don’ feel so good…” ​

​

She reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. ​

​

Then touched her face. Her jawline felt a little itchy. Almost like she had the beginnings of a three-o’clock shadow. “Hey. Let’s get the job done…Ah don’ want to be here any longer than we need to be and the Vicelord has already up and started the party. We got some heads to crack, ya hear?”​

​

Her tone was a little on the gruff side as well. Daisy didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she slugged Kaden hard enough in his armored shoulder to make him stumble back. From there she sauntered off, pulling her weapon from its holster so that she could settle it over her shoulder. They had some ignorant little punks to deal with. The sooner they cleared the port; the sooner they could get a drink. ​

​

Using her comm she followed the coordinates that led her toward the entrance to the Underground. She couldn’t let some old man have all the fun anyway. By the time they approached the slaver den there were actually people streaming out of the door screaming, fleeing, while lights flared from inside. Dang. That Vicelord really didn’t waste any time did he? ​

​

Shrugging decidedly broad shoulders he went to put his helmet on and was a little annoyed by the tight fit. Had his head suddenly gotten bigger? Duke Americus cold only shrug off the discomfort and brought up his ordinance to stay alert. He didn’t want to shoot any of the victims but he sure didn’t mind putting a half dozen rounds into a slaver or two. ​

​

Duke would do his job, clear the area, until the enemy scattered like rats. Roger, motha frackin’ roger. ​

 

[Kaden Farr]

LOCATION: The Underground
TAG: Daisy Americus | Malok | Taiia Mataan | Ticca
CURSE: Life's a Song -- Can I carry a tune?

Kaden's besakr'gam was newer in design and lacked the obvious t-visor which would mark him as a Mandalorian. Ever since what he considered to be a betrayal by those who had claimed to be true Mandalorians, Kaden did not care much to identify with tradition. Did he keep the six tenets, to the best of his ability he certainly did. However, if he was going to be considered dar'manda by some then he did not have to have the t-visor, did he? What did it matter what he looked like when he was taking odd jobs through The Guild with the CIS anyway?​

​

Daisy certainly did not seem to mind, or if she did, it never had come up. The concern which was brought up between them the most was how often it was missions had a way to pull Kaden away from Haseria. It was why work like this was good for them. Daisy had gone from being someone he knew to the most important person in his life. They had not put a label on anything, they were still mandalorians in that sense. There were feelings, ones Kaden was much better at expressing through action and not words, but no labels. They both knew they were close, and their bond through the force betrayed them more often than either likely cared for.​

​

He hated being apart. It was more than their bond which made him feel that way. She was part of him. He even scampered down the ramp after her as she seemed intent on getting to work so they could return to Haseria even quicker.​

​

Suddenly he felt something... sick, nauseated, light headed. Kaden wasn't sure what was going on, only that Daisy seemed to feel it too. She said something about it, and when Kaden went to answer his reply came out in song.​

​

"Saaaaame," the word came with a healthy amount of vibrato.​

​

He clasped his hand over his mouth as he had no idea why he was singing. Kaden only knew that something was wrong, and that right before his eyes, Daisy was changing. The signs of a bearded shadow began to appear on her face. Her cadence became rather masculine, even the way she carried her weapons and the way she talked changed. Daisy Americus looked and talked like a ... well... a man!​

​

Kaden tried to get her attention to tell Daisy what was going on, but she ran ahead, guns blazing into the fire fight. He had to run after, guns blazing, and shooting at whatever came out their way to fire back at them. Freeing slaves, and it was already a brawl. It seemed Darth Metus was serious about ensuring there was no slavery in CIS space, violently serious. There were others around as well, all of them acting........ strange. There was definitely something wrong with the planet. Hopefully someone was going to figure it out because Kaden could not talk... he could only sing.​

​

He found a mirror... something, and waited for his chance to get Daisy's attention. Finally it came, and when it did came Kaden's explanation in song...​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

.​

Bringing Order to Chaos...​

​

Location: Abregado-Rae [Spaceport]​

Tags: Eira Talon | Srina Talon ​

​

Weeks after their fated force connection on Ryloth, Maliphant and Srina had spent an uncanny amount of time together. He had been given the position of her advisor, told that it was much and the same for Metus and Val; which worked, all things considered. He was far too busy ensuring the IGBC worked day to day, and the role of ‘advisor’ allowed him to guide the CIS by guiding Srina - when she required him.​

​

Today, she had asked for him to join her and her sister Eira; both Echani, both nearly identical to one another. Maliphant thought it odd how much he looked like them both, but let the thought pass as he followed his Dread Queen off the Ferocity, Magnaguard in tow;​

​

Yet, as they made their way towards the milita precinct, Maliphant could sense something overcome him - but it wasn’t immediatel obvious what. His experience with the Darkstaff, with the Telos Holocron, with more Sith artifacts than most could even conceive, it was a recognizable feelings -​

​

Something had cursed him.​

​

His gaze glanced about, testing to see if there was some immediate cause of it, of a possible assassin against Srina - or even against her sister, but nothing was obvious. Nothing stood out… but he could feel his mind slowly begin slipping to other thoughts. Far… different thoughts.​

​

Srina dragged his attention back to her as she began singing at the men within the room; which to a more clear minded Maliphant, would have seemed rather obvious wasn’t her intention - but his attention wasn’t on her singing, but her armor. Her assets.​

​

His mouth grew dry as he glanced about, desperately trying to stay focused - to mind what he was thinking, to temper those artificial hormones that dragged his attention away from the usually well kept, well mannered individual. He had to try and tell her, of the Curse - what was going on…​

​

“Srina…”, he offered quietly as he took a step closer - but as she brushed closer to him, he lost his train of thought once more; even getting caught staring for a moment as she turned to face him. He shook his head, grew a slight blush, and tried to reiterate what was on his mind originally;​

​

“Theres… something going on…”, he wanted to tell her. All he had to do was finish the words. Tell her about the curse.​

​

“... Between us. Do you want to get out of here?”​

​

Kark.​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

LOCATION: Ferocity
TAG: Eira Talon | Srina Talon | Darth Empyrean
CURSE: Baby Talk -- Goo goo gah gah


Golbah City sunsets were breathtaking.

Silver eyes watched the glowing sun, likening it to a crisp circle, in a blood red sky. It was a silky-smooth combination of sky burst crimson and yellows into the calm of a quiet evening. It was a symphony of color that made her watch in silence until the color was no more. The wintry Exarch leaned against the transparisteel window as twilight fell on the heart of the Confederacy. Beautiful.

She longed for the sense of peace it offered. The silence.

When the door to her offices slid open, she turned slowly. The fabric of her pale lavender dress pulled across the floor like the wings of a butterfly. Long ivory hair remained braided partially back but the majority tumbled down bare shoulders like a waterfall. “Knight Lechner…”, she murmured quietly, softly, turning her eyes toward the broad-shouldered man. He looked better. His aura in the Force felt stable, though, she could still read the after-effects of what he intended to hide.

Srina was not an empath. Far from it. What she lifted from him were facts. The truth? He was saddened. Filled with a longing, a hurt, so deep that in anger he sought oblivion in the arms of a Zambrano Sith. These were facts. She had collected him from the other side of the galaxy because he belonged to the Confederacy. The monster that killed Knight Darcrath had no right to touch him, to harm him, because he belonged to their nation—And to her. He had no right to touch what belonged to her. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

She moved toward the side of the gently lit office and poured a cup of tea. Srina habitually enjoyed the hot beverage and seemed to forget that others might not like it. She brought the small ceramic glass toward the Knight and offered it to him. Geonosis was hot. Uncomfortably so, especially, during the day. But the night held a chill. “I need your help.”

“My sibling, the youngest, has returned to Geonosis with me. She is force-sensitive. After the wars on Eshan our home has left her feeling smothered. As we have seen with the Eternal Empire…We are not safe. I need her to be safe. She will not allow guards and would likely elude them even if I assigned them in secret. You can guard her when I cannot. Befriend her. Keep her safe.”

Srina paused and her hands came to lace before her. Mercurial eyes were reflective, pale, and filled with the light of stars. There was no emotion in her being, yet, he would feel her concern. See it her request. “You may meet with her in your human form as needed, however, I require you to stay at her side as a wolf when not bound by your duties as a Knight. She won’t suspect you. Eira needs, requires a companion that she does not suspect. She must never know.”

“Can you do this? Will you protect her?”

​

It had been an odd request, one which Gerwald had not expected from the Dread Queen herself. Gerwald dared not say what he thought about it, but his mind settled on one word in regards to how it made her appear.

Vulnerable.

Gerwald would never utter the word because he understood all too well. He would do anything for his siblings safety, in fact, he had. When word had reached him of Alwine's imprisonment he implored Katrine to do something about it, who in turn took news to Darth Metus himself. It resulted in a complete overthrow of the Stewjonian nobility, and the rescue of his own sister.

She had left, but Gerwald still cared deeply for her.

The wolf rest on the ship which belonged to his caretaker. How could he say no to her request. Srina Talon had rescued him and personally oversaw his recovery from the damage which had been caused by Darth Prazutis. Gerwald owed her his life, something which left him indebted to her beyond any sum imaginable. This was beyond obligation or duty.

Eira was young, and from what Srina had seemed to indicate, stubborn. His task was simple, if she slipped away, he was to follow. Gerwald was to be her shadow, gifted as her animal his duty was to be as loyal as any domesticated canine would be. There was only one difference. Gerwald was the furthest thing from domesticated, especially as a wolf.

A wave of energy hit the ship as he rest, something he picked up through the force. Whatever it was had the wolf feeling odd. LIfting his head from where he lay, he looked to the Echani sibling, seeing she was still where she had been last, his head went back down with a whine he had not exhibited since Gerwald was a pup.

Interesting...

The whining did not seem to stop.

Spoiler

flashback by Srina Talon

 

[Eira Talon]

Eira stirred from her place on the couch, a soft groan of pain catching on her lips.

She had asked her sister to train her, and train her Srina had. To think she had been concerned that military school would have been able to train her body more than her dear sister here. Such notions had quickly been dismissed. Srina had proven adept at pushing her to her limits in all areas of her training. There were no breaks. Not until this day, when some event or another pulled Srina away. Eira had not asked what it was. At any rate, she was not one to complain; the muscle fatigue that racked her body brought a bout of satisfaction to her sleepy head.

Pain meant she was doing something right.

The whining in the corner, however, meant something was wrong.

She rubbed at her face, squinting over to the wolf that laid resting in a bundle of blue cloth. The pup was a strange gift from her sister, but Eira would be lying if she said she didn't secretly adore it.

"What's wrong, niquis [snowflake]?" She slid herself off the couch, stretching before making her way over to him. Bare feet padded quietly, her gaze uncharacteristically soft as she she knelt down besides him. Srina hadn't given him to her for responsibility. No, the creature had proved himself adept enough at handling his own. He was meant for companionship, and it was a task he preformed well. The urge to tend to him was drawn out of her anyways, the girl often caught feeding him scraps and making him discreet beds in odd places.

Thin fingers pushed through his fur, giving quick little scratches behind his ear, then under his chin. She frowned, realizing he had once again divested himself of his ribbon. She fished her fingers around under his body, pulling the long silver-blue thing out and holding it gingerly between two fingers.

She raised a brow, her gaze carrying a chastising that transcended words.

Those fingers moved deftly around him, securing the ribbon in a loose collar, fasten off into a bow. It wasn't the prettiest little knot, surely Srina could had done it better, but it would do just fine for her.

"There, that's better, hm? Need the bathroom?" She jerked her chin towards the outer door, standing. "Well come on then, no relieving yourself on Srina's cloak." Speaking of which, she reached for the blue fabric, pulling it out from under his paws once he stood and shaking it out.

Fur puffed into the air. She gave it a lazy bat, then put it on.

Gerwald Lechner​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

LOCATION: Ferocity
TAG: Eira Talon | Srina Talon | Darth Empyrean
CURSE: Baby Talk -- Goo goo gah gah

Sunsets reminded Gerwald too much of the nightly runs he used to make through the forests on his homeworld of Stewjon. He was beginning to forget what the fertile ground of the woods felt like as it bunched up between his paws, the smell of the air as the fragrance of night wafted into his snout, and the hot spill of blood running down his fur as he bit into a Stewjonian Elk Bull hungry for the kill. ​

​

These were the thoughts which ravaged the Warden's mind as he walked into the office of his caretaker Srina Talon . She had summoned him for an undisclosed reason, but she never had need of one to begin with. Her role in his rescue, and the fact she was the reason he was still alive, warranted her anything she asked for. Gerwald would never turn her down.​

​

"It is Master Lechner now, though I am still deciding whether the title is fitting," he replied as he followed the petite Echani to where she was pouring a cup of tea.​

​

She seemed troubled, moreso than usual. While Gerwald never claimed to be an empath, he knew the weight of worry, a weight Srina seemed to carry on her shoulders now. They bore something in common, the pain of loss, which allowed them an understanding of each other they would not have without. The wolf claimed no sense of intimate or secret knowledge about the Exarch, simply that he understood. It was the same truth, the thing that made them friends. ​

​

A small nod was offered in gratitude as Gerwald took the offered tea. The porcelain cup was hot to the touch, fragile enough to make Gerwald fear his grip would break it. His large hand more than enveloped the cup as it was lifted to his mouth for a sip. Black leather fabric rustled as Gerwald's jacket sleeve brushed against the fabric which clung to his torso. His dark wash denim of his pants was a far cry from the formality of Srina's dress, but Gerwald had always been more rustic in his attire. ​

​

Her words fell on open and intent ears.​

​

"You know you do not need to ask. I will do anything," his eyes met hers as his reply answered her request. "I will guard her as if she were my own flesh and blood."​

​

​

​

Snowflake... if Gerwald could roll his eyes as a wolf they would roll at every utterance of the name. When Srina had asked him to be Eira's wolf it had never crossed his mind that it would require such a degrading name and even more humiliating bow. Every opportunity that presented itself for Gerwald to rid himself of the damnable thing, he took it. The younger Echani was nothing like her sister, and while Gerwald would discharge his duty to protect her, the wolf he did not have to enjoy it.​

​

Okay... maybe the way she scratched just under his chin was the bonus which made putting up with the other things worth it. For a ferocious beast, Gerwald did not mind a bit of the benefits of being a domestic pet. ​

​

His ears perked up and tail began to wag at the word bathroom. How long had they been on the ship, and how long had he been forced to hold it. It was not like he had found the opportunity to wonder off, shift so he could use the fresher, and return as though the wolf had never left. This was exactly the break he needed, and did not need to be told twice before dashing for the boarding ramp.​

​

There was still the incessant whine which Gerwald could not seem to control. He sounded like a new puppy that only knew how to beg for everything. It was annoying to the lupine, even more so because he did not know why it was happening. Hopefully there was nothing else weird going on. The wolf could not shake the feeling of the energy blast from earlier. ​

​

If they were not coming back to the ship right away, Gerwald would stay very close to the Eira. ​

 

[Eira Talon]

Location: Space port
Tag: Gerwald Lechner [open!!]
Curse: Love at First Sight

A smile hit her lips as she watched him scatter off. Right, well, perhaps she was in need of air too. The young Echani had no idea what awaited her beyond the ship's hull. She was not particularly inquisitive, and Srina did not seem inclined to involve her sister in her affairs. All the better, anyway, Srina's affairs always seemed to be disastrous. For a moment Eira wondered if the doors would even open for her at all. She skirted around the eager hops of the pup, his whines begging urgency that she was keen to obey. She poked the blaster door button, blinking in surprise as a wash of fresh air kissed them both.

"Look at that. She does trust me," mused the girl half under her breath.

She stood back, letting the wolf dart out to find some patch of fresh ground. Her gaze followed him for a moment before politely training away. Dog or not, somethings were just rude.

Instead her attention drifted off the ramp and across the clearing, the girl's brows furrowing as she took in the sight of a run down spaceport. It was nothing like Eshan, even in its current rebuilding state Eira was sure there was more beauty in a singular Echani building than this whole place had combined. What would her sister want with a place like this?

A dock worker walked past, his grease-smeared face catching her eye. Those silver pools flashed.

The fair-skinned figured visibly swooned, her hand pressing against her breasts as her heart started stuttering rapidly. Of all the beautiful things in the universe, he put them all to shame. She practically glided off the doc, her legs moving her forward before her brain could catch up. All these months she had been searching for her purpose, her drive, her peace... What a waste of energy training had been when as it turned out-- being inside his arms? All she needed.

The man exclaimed in shock as he found himself assaulted by a set of thin arms, the girl's grip iron clad as he tried to pull away. She wrapped him in a hug, her cheek pressing into his chest.

"At last," she breathed.

He stood frozen, then uttered. "...Do you know who I am?"

 

[Kiandra Ceryss]

Curse: Teen Wolf - Is that a Duck?!
Location: The Tavern
​

Hearin' tale of a slave ring within the borders of CIS Space drew the attention of Starfall's new Commander. Despite her preference for the action behind the controls of her A-Wing or any starfighter, taking to the ground wasn't an issue, even if it leads beneath the surface of a world. Having returned to Confederate Space following an operation to liberate slaves from a mining operation locateed within an asteroid field and a follow-up assault on Hutt Cartel forces, Kia couldn't pass up the chance to see another slave deal come to an end.​

​

Despite hearing of others seeking the slavers, Frostbite found herself within the local tavern. If she had learned anything from Starfall's former Commander, it was how to read people's body language among other things. She wasn't here for the slavers themselves, that task would be left to others. She was here for those behind the slavers. If one was to stop a slave ring, their support would have to be cut off. Leaning against the bar, the Jelucani glanced around as the eyes of a select few viewed her with ounces of curiosity. The look returned, was a well placed sabaac face - another handy thing that she had been taught in down time aboard a ship.​

​

Leaning against the bar, she summoned the tender, slipping some credits from her pocket, not those of the Confederacy but ones that would be more enticing to those with information for a price that some would not be able to buy. As he approached, her lips parted to speak as her voice arose in a subtle tone, preferring that the entire tavern not hear her words. Sliding the credits over the bar, her eyes turned towards him. "Anything interesting goin' on around here? Lookin' for a j- Quaaack-" The sudden shift in her voice and the feeling washing over her was unexpected, to say the least. Her eyes widen as she blinks in disbelief. Did she really just make that sound?! The look she was given was one questioning whether she had been drinking a little too much. "I think you've had too much to drink, lady." The bartender said.​

​

"That was not intended!" She sighed heavily, her arm twitching slightly though she forces it to her side. Tapping the credits against the bar as she ignored the curious looks she was being given, her attention remains completely on the bartender. "If you're not goin' to answer I'll just take my quaaack... -ing.." She paused. "Look, I need an answer and I've got the creds to pay.." Trying to hide her frustration with.. whatever was happening, she hoped an answer would come soon before she makes a real fool of herself.​

​

Daisy Americus | Malok | Taiia Mataan | Ticca | Kaden Farr ​

 

[Lunara Azure]

Ohh a fight! This was going to be fun, she never really got to just sit on the edge and look at a fight. Ever since she’d been 16 Lunara had found herself thrown from one combat zone to another, the church would pluck her from one fight only to throw her headfirst into another. Nothing else for the darling of the people, the face of the church. All in a day’s work for their Lady of Light.

Well not the Lady of Light anymore.

Somewhere Lunara had found a pair of trousers and a shirt, far less…dressed up, than her usual attire. She’d tidied it up as mush as she could, the force was a powerful and mystical tool that was capable of wonders the likes of which the galaxy had rarely ever seen…it also made for a wonderful embroidery tool. She’d managed to get rid of most of the hideous decorations that had covered the shirt. She wasn’t sure if her teachers would be outraged or impressed, but she was pretty pleased by her ingenuity.

Still, as she wove her way through the crowd she couldn’t help but play with a single stray thread, pulling it from the shirt as she spotted the waving man on the edge of the crowd. It took Lunara a moment to long moment to place the face of the gigantic figure, before her mind flashed back to Bastion, to the meeting she’d ascended to the position of an Obsidian Lord. So had the man, Taramaz Laurs.

A hand came up in greeting as Lunara ambled over to the man…woman…she’d given up trying to work this out. It was all too confusing and she really didn’t want to deal with it anymore than she had to. Whatever was happening only started when she arrived on this Light-forsaken planet, so it only stood to reason that when she left it would end. If that proved not to be true, well the galaxy one have one very pissed off Force user to deal with.

A pair of blue eyes flicked up and down Taramaz’s frame before a touch of sadness touched Lunara’s eyes as she inclined her head to the Sean-Olc.

“You too?”

She didn’t really know the man, their interactions had been one meeting and a few casual passing-nods around Geonosis. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t commiserate with his…condition. She felt the shock and discomfort of the situation all too well herself. The sorceress knew that beings existed who could shapeshift, could change their form at will. As a child she’d read about them in stories and imagined what it would be like to be one of them, her form constantly shifting and changing as she needed it but now…glancing down at her own body she realised that the cost would be far too high. If she ever got back to normal…she never wanted to change, never wanted to have those dreams again.

A heartbeat, two heartbeats passed before she managed to gather herself, glancing over at the fight, at the figure of the vicelord who was leading the charge. She knew that her duty should lead her over there, to stand by the vicelord, to assist him in his assault but…well she knew she’d be more of a liability that anything in her current state. A sigh escaped her lips as she glanced down at the bottle in her hand, taking a sip before holding it up to her companion.

“So, how do we think the away team’s doing?”

Taramaz Laurs