Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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It's Raining Raiders [TSE Dominion of Irn Hex]

Objective B: Into the Breach
Allies: [member="Morgan Vance"] [member="Tevro"]

Well organized. Well trained. The Legion was better armed, better armored, and better prepared to work as a unit than the Hunters were, and it showed in that moment.

As the second, smaller team of Morgan and Tevro opened fire from the back, Dante's group broke to opposite sides of the hall, getting out of the cross fire and also opening their own shots up at an angle less likely to hit their allies on the other side.

It wasn't a battle or a skirmish. It was a slaughter. In the end the leader stood alone, the nutrient frame holding the ysalamiri frankly a mess where someone had taken out the creature with a clear and precise shot.

"So. About those Sith."

Dante knew something of the Mandalorians. Enough to know they weren't taking this one alive, no matter what it looked like in this moment. The question wasn't how he'd end up dead, the question was if he'd try to do the foolish thing and try to take a bunch of their troops with him.

~Everyone keep a fair distance till we see open hands.~

"You've got a choice. Come quietly or die here. I'm not picky. The question is, are you?"
 
"Please, tell me."

She turned her eyes down, head lowering slightly. The curls of her hair cascaded down to frame her face as she looked back up and into his eyes with the most genuine of fake smiles.

"Can I show you?"

He cocked his head to the side slightly, eyes narrowing in rightly suspicion. She did not bury that, no, he needed to have some resistance or it would all feel fake to him. Instead, she gave off a sense of vulnerability from herself.

"Of course."

She stood up and plucked his hand off the table. Her thumb ever so slightly caressed his index finger as she pulled him with her, out of his chair, through the restaurant. Together they fell under a shroud that made others not want to look. Doors opened before them as she turned and looked into his eyes. His jaw fell slightly as she pulled him out into the cold.

"What did yo-" "-Shh"

The door closed behind him and with surprising strength pushed him against it. He gave a surprised sound, eyebrows curling in wonder. Ophidia leaned in, her left hand coming up to caress his cheek.

"Let me show you."

Her lips clashed with his aggressively and he rescinded the act. He tried to push back, but she held him too firmly. Her black locks bled into one another as the skin cracked like paper under his fingers. Her inky hand trailed down over his temples as her purple lips wrestled his, burning eyes staring through his eyelids unblinking, unwavering, living death. The claws pierced his skin as blackness crawled up through his veins.
 
tinker tailor soldier spy
Objective B- Docking with the old Imperial Station
Allies: [member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Tevro"]

Once Morgan took out the ysalamir he let his carbine roar in other angles, dropping body after body in cooperation with the others.

It was over before it had truly started.

But that was usually the case with jobs and missions that were a success. They began quickly, ending just as quickly, leaving you wondering if all of it had truly happened or if it had been an elaborate dream. Of course, right now there was proof that this was real. In the form of the last Mandalorian standing. The Hunter had a couple of options in front of him.

Morgan didn't like any of them.

Before the Hunter could engage his dead man's switch, could rear up his gun to die in a suicidal blaze of glory or find some other trump-card that might have given him the day on his terms. Morgan already stepped in, pistol up and discharging several stun blasts in his back.

First the knee, collapsed. The arm went up to trigger something in his hand, elbow collapsed next. Then the back of his neck.

The Hunter slumped.

"There." Morgan dryly said before carefully taking out the trigger from the stunned fist. Not a dead man's switch, just a regular trigger... well, that made things substantially less complicated. "Choice made." He looked up, studying Tevro and then up to Dante. A shrug followed. "Figured Command might want to interrogate him." It was often like this with Vance.

From out of nowhere he swept in and assumed control.

Then just as easily Morgan stepped back and let Dante handle things further.

"Did good, Tevro. Keep that head straight and don't get ya self too clocked up on the Sith's code, y'all be fine." Most soldiers wouldn't have talked so flippantly about the Sith, but.

They weren't most soldiers.
 
"Vod, the enemy warship is moving into attack position!"

The massive battlecruiser, over four times longer and larger than their Kandosii destroyers, could be seen turning to port, energy crackling along the circular weapon that jutted out from the center of the ship. "Full speed ahead, and get ready to jump to hyperspace once we're clear." It was impossible at this range for such a massive vessel to do any real damage to the destroyers and transports, wasn't it? They'd be out of range if they could just traverse this last piece of asteroid field...

Then the Malevolence fired.

A cascade of ionic energy rushed towards the Mandalorian fleet, washing over half of the fleet as weapon systems powered down, engines failed, and all lights blinked out across the ships. Some crashed into nearby asteroids as they lost power, cargo and small armored figures spilling out into the void as hulls broke open like eggs. Others were blown to pieces by the Imperial Warship's turbolaser fire, the Kandosii destroyers turned into magnificent funeral pyres that smoldered with smoke and flame as their hulls burst and their reactors exploded like fireworks.

There would be survivors, of course. And they would spread tale of the horror inflicted upon them by the Empire.

May they carry that fear with them forever.

[member="Aut-X"]
 
C - Establish Dominance

The time almost blurred as they discussed the minor elements of the treaty, and things became easier for Joycelyn when they came down to more concrete terms and tasks. They hammered out the logistics of military support during the conquest and the establishing of an Imperial Garrison to be stationed on Irn and help maintain stability in the aftermath and the future.

Due to the discomfort of the chairs, Joycelyn had mostly taken to standing, hands leaned on the table with the pretext of reaching all over the document. It also made her tower over the chieftains constantly.

Making them accept the full scope of Imperial law had been some discussion as well, but when offered with the ultimatum of accepting it or fending for themselves it was ratified in the agreement. She would have preferred to not pull that card at that time, but it seemed the only way to shut them up on the matter. All parts of the colonies were subject to the Imperial law, that was final.

The greater strategy of the conquest was set, though Mogroll and Jarakk seemed more and more displeased with the strategy of not sacking Irn and burning it to the ground. In fact, they seemed mostly displeased with the lack of sacking and burning altogether. Even Joycelyn, who in many ways took after her father in ways of violence, had started to see how vital their bloodlust was to their drive, and how dangerous it was to the future stability of Irn as a part of the Sith Empire.

"With all due respect, High Chieftain." Joycelyn restrained herself. "But until the point where it becomes unavoidable, we will not condone a full sacking of Irn. It is vital for the planet's economy and the support you require to hold this planet."

Mogroll appeared about to speak, but Joycelyn rose up to he full height. Her shoulders automatically squared as she turned the scribe in her hand and offered it.

"Do we have a contract, Governor?"

It was deliberate and it tasted foul in her mouth. Yet, he had the undisputed loyalty of the Blackhold and Irnese Black Conglomerate. Well, perhaps not undisputed. Joycelyn saw Rhall crossing his arms, eyes diverting at the mention of governor. He had aspired to hold the Blackhold once. The slightest smile spread over Joycelyn's lips.

Mogroll took the scribe and put down the first signature. Each of the members signed it, Rhall last. Joycelyn copied the treaty, making sure both the Empire and the Irnese had their copy.

"Then it is decided." She made a slight bow "I will take this back to Bastion and return with support. Weapons will be distributed to your troops." "It has been a pleasure."

Her smile faded entirely as they were guided out. When she thought they were alone, Joycelyn spoke to Taeli in a hushed but certain tone. It brimmed with anger, her eyes set hard on the ship.

"He is not fit."

[member="Taeli Raaf"]
 
Objective C - Negotiate with the clans, watch the girl.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

She didn't speak much during the rest of the process, only a few words here or there. No, she spent the entire time watching the participants. Joycelyn was able to handle the negotiations well, especially as much of it revolved around military details. She had to say the young woman used her height to her advantage. It could be an intimidating tool against these savage fools as who wanted to argue with a woman that towered over you and could likely pick you up without the Force?

Mogroll and Jarakk would need to be dealt with. Taeli doubted either could be trusted to actually be worthwhile allies and servants to the Sith Empire. Naming Mogroll the governor of Irn would appease him... for a time, but revenge ran too hotly in his blood, pillaging always a sentence away. No, it was not a situation that would or could last. Rhall could be useful. He was not as hotheaded as Mogroll or Jarakk, and clearly he had ambitions that the Sith could nurture.

With the treaty signed, it would be a matter of days for the promised garrison and weapons arrived and the planet would be theirs. Walking back to their ship, her mind wandered down the nearest futures this planet might take. She saw villages burning, people screaming... the Irnish being slaughtered by the scores, both civilians and military personnel. Purges, that was what the future held under Governor Mogroll. The plan would only be followed long enough for him to assert control and then... he would have his petty revenge.

"He is not fit."

In that, she and Joycelyn were in agreement.

"Indeed," she muttered back. "Wouldn't it be a shame if, in the final moments of their victory, the new governor and his deputy perished and left Rhall to command?"
 
C - Plan for the Future
[member="Taeli Raaf"]

Her face did not soften, but a hint of a smile crept up along her lips as the two of them stepped onto the platform leading up to the shuttle. Her hands clasped behind her back in the military fashion.

"Yes, that would be most unfortunate."

She cast a look back at them, at the smug and satisfied face of High Chief Mogroll, then the ship's rear hangar bay closed behind them. Joycelyn found her seat and crossed her legs, a sigh escaping her lips.

"War can be such a messy business. Yet, for those with great merit, there is great opportunity."

Her eyes closed as she leaned her head back, letting her facial muscles relax after what had been a taxing experience for her mentality. There were things she knew she should have done better. These were made into mental notes and filed away in her memory. The sound of paws and claws pattering against the floor came closer as her eyes opened again minutes later. Two vornskr puppies, eyeing Taeli suspiciously, marched up to Joycelyn's leg and sat down next to her. One chewed on the sole of her boot, the other scraped at her ankle for attention.

"Alk, Ike."

She picked them up and put them on her lap. They had stopped stinging her by now and had become fairly comfortable around her as they played in and around the seat.
 

Kyrinov

][ A B S O L U T I O N ][
Objective B: Docking with the old Imperial Station
Location: Station Above Irn
Allies: Morgan Vance | Dante Sotari
Post: 3
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He watched silently as Dante and Morgan apprehended the Mandalorian by a rather abrupt and unorthodox manner, granted it did get the task done effectively and efficiently. Tevro brushed past Morgan's team and knelt down on one knee beside the unconscious Hunter, looking him over with a few small brushes of his right hand which tested a few pressure points in his back, neck, and sides. He stood back up and looked back at Morgan, his left hand finally relaxing and dropping off of his saber. His right hand swept up and brushed off the black hood that he used to shroud his features. Tevro stood to his full 6 foot height, dressed in a dark brown tunic and leather pants, cloak still draped across his shoulders which were covered by smooth leather pauldrons.

"I did nothing, Lieutenant. This was the work of both you and Lieutenant Dante as well as your respective teams. I was simply here. As far as the Code goes, I fail to see how one could fall into the typical and ill conceived stereotype of power obsessed or power hungry unless they allow themselves to become consumed by the Dark Side rather than practicing of some type of self restraint in mastering what power they currently have before gaining more. Power should never be viewed as an end in and of itself, but rather as a means to an end. Specifically, the end goals of the Order and, after that, his or her respective individual goals. But, what do I know? I'm just an Acolyte."

His eyes shifted to Lieutenant Dante and her team of troopers who were splayed in a tight formation along the boundaries of the corridor walls.

"How will we continue now? I'm assuming that we're taking him back to your superiors for some reason or another. Please, correct me if I am wrong."
 
Objective B: Secured Station
Allies: [member="Morgan Vance"] [member="Tevro"]

"You did plenty." Came Dante's distorted voice through the helmet. With a grunt she reached up, releasing the catches and pulling it off. She regarded first Morgan, then the Acolyte.

"Followed directions, kept your cool. You can roll with the Legion any day," she said with a grin.

"As for next- We'll secure this yahoo and get him back to the ship. Our sector sweep is clear, all the other feeds are showing up empty, so we'll just have to wait for confirmation from the other teams that-"

The comms buzzed. The other two teams checking in, confirming their sections of the station clear. Dante's smile broadened.

"As for next, we go home, knowing everyone is walking out of this place under their own power, and celebrate," she said.

It wasn't always the case, after all. The Legion fought hard, were serious on mission because they had to be.

But they also lived hard when it was all over.

She wasn't sure they was any other way to do it.
 
tinker tailor soldier spy
Objective B- Docking with the old Imperial Station
Allies: [member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Tevro"]

A hiss and Morgan's helmet came off too.

"What Lt. Sotari said," He stretched a bit, letting bones and nerves crack before relaxing just a touch. "-I will be sure to write a shining commendation for ya." Mor joked before gesturing for his men to pick up the unconscious Mandalorian. They'd strip him, secure him and then get him on board as was protocol. The others.... well, that was what the clean-up crews where that would follow along behind them.

They'd sweep the floors one by one, check the systems, clean up their mess and prepare it for occupation.

Not their job whatsoever.

They rolled outta there, settling back in their transport ships, already making plans for the night. Celebration was in order after all. It wasn't often that one of their missions got completed as smoothly and quickly as this one.

No wounded on their side and even a prisoner.

The rest of the system was also slowly coming under their control- reports feeding in that the Imperial Fleet was doing mope-up duty in the asteroid field, the planet being secured. It seemed that for once the Empire was having an easier time doing their expansion duty. "Swear- gonna have that hot shower and then drink a metric feth ton tonight." He murmured to Dan, settling himself in one of the transport chairs. "Been a while since I let loose."

Bastion would be lit on fire tonight as far as he was concerned.
 
She felt the last breath exit the General's body as his body became limp in her hand. Blackness spread through his veins as he slumped down to the ground. His eyes were still alive for a minute more, and he spent it staring up at the figure that now towered over him like a pale, shadow-clad pillar.

Where there had been red silk and warm, dark skin, there was now coarse, black fabric and pale scars, tattooed with black tendrils crawling across her form. The curls of her hair had been replaced by a wide, black hood, and the honeyed eyes were burning coals against the ashen face. She stared down into his face like a judgemental psychopomp, then brought the metal claws on her fingers to her mouth. Her purple lips parted and a blue, forked tongue crept out to lick a drop of blood from the claws.

She had eaten his memories, stolen his identity, and left him to suffer a slow and agonising end thanks to her poison kiss.

The General was the great stabilising factor of the city of Irn, the next morning he would be found dead in an ally way with a pocket full of spice, while the woman he was with would be found in a hotel room, foaming at the mouth. That would not be Ophidia either, she had simply mimicked the woman's face.

The Queen of Shadows simply strode away, passing the passers by in the chill of the early evening, not an eye sticking to her back. She planted anti-seeds in stability and watched the flowers of chaos bloom.
 
Zahori was led through the rest of the Leviathan's facilities by the science officer. Seeing the processes at work within the Leviathans has given her a new insight to the ingenuity the Imperial engineers. "Admiral, we've received word of the operation at hand."

"Report."

"It seems the droids are performing optimally in their assistance with the other Imperial ships."

"Excellent to hear. Keep me updated as the operation continues."

"Yes ma'am."
 
Something happened deep within the main command center within the central asteroid.

It was a true horror show.

​They tried to stop the Grim Reaper from busting through their doors and failed. A single lone blade of sunfire ignited within the dark halls and a symphony of screams followed. Radiant explosions rang through the halls as grenades were tossed back, blast doors buckled and broken through sheer force of the dark side. The smell of ozone, blood, and burning flesh mixed like a unholy trinity in the air.

It was a terrifying sight to see the eight foot tall behemoth clad in dark armor blood spattered all over it. He walked down the halls over broken and torn corpses towards the central command center, his connection to the enemy feeling their very life force ensured none escaped his path towards the main command. Voices erupted from within a mixture of outrage and fear as he approached the words 'Contain him' rang out again and again from a singular person as he stepped through the doors, a hand gestured through the air shutting all exit doors and sealing them.

​As blasters raised he had already been at the ready pulling the weapons right out of their hands and down onto the floor. He surged for the enemies leader first and foremost. The man was skilled and strong, but he was nothing compared to the titan before him. The Destroyer battered and broke the man through sheer strength alone, raising him into the air on a lightsaber driven clear through his chest, before he violently tore the man off the blade, its energy burning a large slash through his side falling to the floor.

He whirled on the rest and began to butcher them all.

[member="Dabida Yalilyr"]

​4

 
It was a massacre.

The Hunters had little time to prepare for their discovery, so assured they were in the infallibility of their position within the asteroid field. Their escape route had been intercepted by the Empire's newest warship, their destroyers rendered inert as the Malevolence exercised its power over them. A few Mandalorians managed to get to the escape pods and jettison into the asteroid field, but without proper assistance they would either fall victim to the roaming space debris or be picked apart one-by-one by the Empire's Hunter-Killers.

Those ships that managed to escape death would bring tale of such horror to their vod.

Meanwhile the Shadow Hand tore apart the Hunter's command center, their countermeasures rendered moot by the Sith Lord's ferocious might. Death was preferable to the villainy that would be inflicted upon them in an Imperial prison, the torture and the mutilation the stuff nightmares were composed of. And in the end none in the command center would survive, for without any hope of escape those that had initially survived the Shadow Hand's assault would take their own lives. Primarily to deprive the Empire of prisoners, though some outside of the command center would be taken before they could commit suicide, but secondly to escape the hungering fear that began to gnaw at their souls.

The battle was won, and the heart of the Empire was safe.

[member="Darth Prazutis"]
 

Jantar Keltainen

Evil is a word used by the ignorant and the weak
Post: 1

“That wasn't a laser blast! Something hit us!”
―Han Solo

You're good, Jantar, but you're no ace pilot.

Jantar's cheeks still burned at the memory of her Master’s evaluation of her last simulator exercise. The line had been a simple comment, not meant to be cruel nor delivered that way, but it cut deep. Jantar did not like to fail. Nor did she like to be anything other than perfect.

She shook her head. Was it unrealistic to be good at every aspect of being a Sith? Jantar didn’t think so.

Reaching out she flicked the starter switches for her fighter's engines. All around her, in the cockpit, various switches, buttons, and monitors flashed to life. “Primary and secondary power is at full.”

Her wingman reported similar start-up success. “Red Two is operational.”

“Droid, have you finished the navigation calculations?” Jantar had been introduced, but had already forgotten the R2 unit’s monicker.

The red and white R2 unit seated behind Jantar hooted, then the navdata spilled out over the young Sith's main monitor. She punched a button sending the same coordinates out to the other pilot. “Go to light speed and rendezvous at these coordinates.”

As Jantar engaged the hyperdrive, the stars elongated themselves into white cylinders, then snapped back into pinpoints and began to revolve slowly, transforming themselves into a tunnel of white light. Jantar fought the urge to use the stick to compensate for the roll. In space, and especially hyperspace, up and down were relative. How her ship moved through hyperspace didn't really matter — as long as it remained on the course the droid had calculated and had attained sufficient velocity before entering hyperspace, she'd arrive intact.
 

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