Kill the Masters! [CIS Dominion of Lyra]

[Djonas Vile]

​

As it is widely known throughout the galaxy, the Confederacy are avid defenders of freedom and the rights of living beings. Such rights were being taken away from settlers on the planet Lyra. Word reached the Templar Order of a notorious band of slavers who have taken the settlers prisoner and now plan on selling them into slavery. This blasphemous act called for the Confederacy of Independent Systems to act, and so they did, swiftly. Templar Knight Djonas Vile was named the commander of the operation after his suggested plan was agreed upon by the Order.

The first step of the plan was to infiltrate the slave camp and impersonate slaves and guards. Doing this would allow for no civilian casualties when the Confederacy would attack the slavers. Secondly, those who are either too young, old, or sick to fight would be escorted back to the dropships where they would be taken back to the carriers in orbit of the planet. The final objective in the mission? KILL THE MASTERS!

2 Poggle-class Confederate carriers came out of hyperspace in Lyra's orbit, each one packed with dropships ready to descend upon the planet's surface far enough away that the slave masters would not see. Djonas Vile was making his way towards the hangar to ready to take his leave of the carrier for the ground. Djonas chimed into his communicator to relay one last message before the mission would begin.

"This is Djonas calling into all Confederate Templars, soldiers, and allies on this mission. You've all received your briefing on the mission. There's people down there who are about to be sold like property. Not if I have anything to say about it. Not if the Confederacy has anything to say about it. Let's get down there and free them. Sound good?"

Spoiler

[member="Astrian Callus"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member="Ember Rekali"]
[member="Feena Mason"]
[member="Isley Verd"]
[member="Katrina Garnier"]
[member="Keter"]
[member="Lee Radimus"]
[member="Manu Xextos"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]
[member="Phoebe Verd"]
[member="Salem Norongachi"]
[member="Serian Loria"]
[member="Vorhi Alestrani"]
[member="Ahani Najwa"]
[member="Amarant deWinter"]
[member="Ashe the Reaper"]
[member="Eldoc Quasat"]
[member="Ella Nova"]
[member="Kara Avoyos"]
[member="Oron Verd"]
[member="Siqa"]
[member="Sophia Denko"]
[member="Abel Denko"]
[member="Adela Verd"]
[member="Anastasia Verd"]
[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]
[member="Corran Serat"]
@Corvinus Palpatine
[member="Devorah Verd"]
[member="Felix Emer"]
[member="Ginnie Verd"]
[member="Idiian Sayali"]
[member="Jala Rekab"]
[member="Lauren Walsh"]
[member="Maria Natalja"]
[member="Marionn L'sa"]
[member="Marius"]
[member="Matsu Xiangu"]
[member="Nima Ven"]
[member="Ruza Deveel"]
[member="Sanna Legra"]
[member="Særa Ayña Savan"]
@Seanna Vel
[member="Siyndacha Aerin"]
[member="Solan Charr"]
[member="Tia`ser Verd"]
@Tycho Shorn
[member="Uther Weiss"]
[member="Voroll"]
[member="Zahuro Ikane"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

She was beginning to feel like she lived on ships.

That wasn't really a problem - she rather liked the hushed hum of the atmosphere control, the quiet preparedness of a crew on a mission. And besides, no two missions were the same. Whatever they were about to encounter down on the service of Lyra was bound to be different. Not to mention the entire operation was right up her alley. Matsu excelled at both quietly infiltrating and ingratiating herself where she shouldn't, or completely disrupting something entirely and without conscience. There was no middle ground for the girl.

That often got her in trouble. But that day, she hoped to be an asset.

She listened to [member="Djonas Vile"]'s last 'pep talk', a small smile curling the ends of her mouth. Despite her...questionable morality, she had joined the Confederacy because above all she believed in freedom, the choice to do what you wanted to do and when. Ending the lives of those would threaten that, especially against Confederate citizens...it would be her pleasure. She wrapped her fingers absently around the hilt of her sword, settling in for the descent to the planet.

 

[EmKay]

Rhoujen was already planet-side. He was clad in his armour, but wore a dirty-looking brown cloak over it which effectively hid his armed appearance. His helmet was clipped to his waist, and his sword tucked under his hood. He could pass as slave or guard, depending on what was necessary when the time came. He approached the slaver camp and was addressed by an armed guard.

"Oi you," the man said in a drawl, "Who you be, then, eh?" he probed. Atretes gave the sentient an indignant stare and spoke.

"I'm one of the fething mercenaries you hired, idiot." he said. He laid on his accent particularly heavily, and let his cloak slip open just enough to reveal a section of his armour. The guard stared at him hard, searching for any deception, but Rhoujen had become slightly more skilled in deception when it was absolutely necessary. After several tense moments that made the young Templar's hand twitch, the guard stepped to the side.

"Bos's in the big caravan o'r there." the guard drawled, his hand raising to point out the obvious. Atretes nodded in thanks and dropped the cloak. It was no longer necessary. He unclipped his helmet and secured it on. The airtight hiss indicated he was secure in his suit, and the respirator activated with its subtle noise. He waited just a moment for the optical sensors to calibrate and then continued on his way. The brown cloth flew off into the distance somewhere, the young Seneschel of the Crusaders now in his element. He grinned behind his mask.

The walk took a little bit of time, in which he took looks over the 'stock' as they were called, and noted the ones that could fight and the ones that would need evacuation. Unfortunately, there were a lot of women and a fair amount of children. There were strong young men in the mix as well, though, and very few elderly. He couldn't tell if any were sick, but he could gain a rough demographic. It made him sick. Once he reached the large caravan, he found that there was a bit of an assembly.

"And keep an eye out for any pesky interlopers lookin' to interfere with our business!" the 'boss', or perhaps one of many, of the event shouted out to all gathered, "We don' want to lose any profits now, do we?" he laughed a hearty laugh and Atretes considered how easy it would be to end the man right now. He stayed his hand, however, and decided that he would make it a point to off this vile man when the time came. That appeared to be the end half of the speech, so Rhoujen went about his task. Spreading dissent among the masses. He took a cursory glance around him and went to one of the cages full more of healthy men than women, children, elderly, or ill. They all shied away from him for fear of torture, but he merely nodded to them and carried on his way. He was gauging their reactions to him first. To see how they were treated based on how they reacted. Most of the residents of that cage looked more hateful than fearful. That was good.

Atretes slipped in-between the cages and got lost in the crowd of slaves, with only a few guards near him. He was formulating a plan, it just needed some time to play out.

[member="Djonas Vile"] // [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Kiyala Demont`]

Kicking up dust clouds in the winds nearby was none other than Kiyala on her Dathomirian Rider Mark 2 engaged in it's land mode and effectively being a suped up speeder. It's natural shielding protected Kiyala from debris and bugs and she thanked herself for imagining such a situation. She began to slow her Rider as she neared the slaver's encampment and as expected a few guards sat outside with an assortment of weapons. Her vehicle lightly and yet efficiently hummed as she stepped down to meet the approaching guard.

"What's your business here? Aye she'd make a good addition eh?" The gruff man said knowing he stood much taller than Kiyala who couldn't come in her typical armor and has to settle for armorweave robings.

"Don't you know a slaver when you speak to one cow! I have meant bigger than you that fear my presence." As she said these words she had worked her presence into the men who broke under the power of the dark side. They would not bother her any longer nor would they sound alarm as they would forget her presence in mere seconds. Setting her Rider with coordinates to return to the command ship; before turning around and walking into the encampment. Now all she needed was an empty room. . . .

Djonas Vile // Matsu Xiangu

 

[Ikki Ike]

[member="Kiyala Demont"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

Ikki was focused more so because as she sat there her mind was racing through the mission through the goals in her head witha checklist. She didn't fully understand what might be happening but as the apprentice rose and started to clean up she slid her hands into the diamond tipped gloves and Monofilament net launcher went to her hip. It was quite a fun tool while she started to change into the latex outfit. Not as pretty as the armor the other templars wore but then it served a purpose as all f foot nothing of her and barely hundred pounds moved down the halls of the ship not getting second glances or looks.

A maid wasn't something you noticed and here killing the masters of the slavers guild would be easier. No one really expected the petite atrisian until she had her wires around their necks. Seeing the others there as she saw the templar Matsu and bowed settling in with her gloves in her lap, her head piece perfectly framed and a smile of contentment and falsehood. "Mistress Xiangu."

 

[Seanna Vel]

At first when Knight Vile had came to her about this mission. At first took the breath out of her. Not showing any emotion willing, until told her the details. Face when stone cold, but knowing that she was the best for it, not having the manner like her fellow Templar. In all her skill also took over the pick of her. As her mind flowed with all this going on. Zipping up leather outfit, making sure her make up was in place.

Spoiler

That was the tricky part of this under covered making sure her Qukuuf facial tattoos. It took her less then a few days to know, all she need to know with when the sales was going down. Knowing all the code she need sending them back in encoded message to the temple. Only then did she put the second plan to make sure the ones that would take place on her team would be able to stay under their fake id. Only this time she put in a ear bud, and then her twin pistol on each hip. Already last night she had stashed her sniper rifler.

Stepping out she was met by one of the high boss, smirking at him, "Yea, Boss, what the heck do you want, this flip early in the morning." smirking as she let him speak to her about the detail. Only to spit it right back in his face. "I already said I waned that one, and this one on first block of sale. [member="Kiyala Demont"].

"I want this one [member="Atretes Rhoujen"] and his merecy lot you brought in, in this area, " as she walked around glaring at the one that happen to be staring at them to long. Some of them now with less teeth, after they tang with him. Feeling some had made nick name. Only brought another smirk to her lips. Hearing the call on her ear bud that was deep with in her left ear. After a few more nods going to a place to make a call, "[member="Djonas Vile"] all is in place, sir waiting more orders."

Walking around to where the cages was as she wonder what seem to be with out any real reason but to look over the slave themselves. Smirking as she let herself come up behind someone she could feel knew. [member="Atretes Rhoujen"] "Sweet pea, should you be back here", as she put her hands on her hips with a cold face. [member="Ikki Ike"]

 

[EmKay]

The slaves were all in pitiful condition. Luckily, Rhoujen had noticed that the sick were quarantined separately from the healthy. That made evacuation a little bit easier, at least. The young Templar sensed someone approaching and made his observations less examining and more simply like security doing his job and keeping everyone in line. He stepped and spun, facing miss Vel. He was relieved, behind his mask, to see a friendly face, but the droid-like aesthetic made him appear cold and hostile nonetheless.

"Just keeping a watch for funny business, ma'am." he said. His voice gave slight inflection of his relief, but through the electronics it wasn't very noticeable. There had to be something said for the presence a full helm with a mask gave. Now that he knew that different people were taking different roles in the undercover work, he could plan even more efficiently. He would stick to the mission, certainly, but things had to be set in place before they acted. Slaves needed to be armed, hope needed to be inspired, the potential army they had on their hands had to be rallied against the slavers.

"Now, I'm sure you have pressing matters to attend to, Madame Vel, and I have my own rounds to tend to." he bowed politely then turned on his heel and slipped back into mostly-unseen spaces between the cages, slaves, and other equipment. He needed a way to tap into their communications and planning before he made any moved. He needed in. Away from prying eyes, even friendly ones, he found a computer terminal housed in a service tent.

"Right..." he thought to himself. His fingers tapped the console, and it requested a key card. He looked around him and saw a few containers. Going out on a limb, he searched through the containers and found a few access codes and a key ring labeled "Section H", but nothing for the computers. He heard footsteps. He decided making the tent look pretty again would take too long, so he pulled out his slugthrower, twisted on the suppressor, and waited very little time for what came next.

"What... who ar-" Pap! the sound of the shot would not be audible more than six inches around the tent, and with a quick grip of telekinesis, Rhoujen pulled the body, now adorned with a bullet through the skull, into the tent before it fell backward. He searched the body and found the computer key card, a comlink, and another keyring labeled "Section D". He tucked the keyrings into his utility belt, and with a few commands to his datapad, his comlink received an audio feed of the chatter among the slavers. All quiet for now, with occasional reports on 'no activity'. Deciding to take a moment to experiment with telekinesis, and dispose of the body, Atretes reached into the Force and used the power to dig into the ground, using his hands to guide the energy, until he'd secured a plug of dirt the same size as the body. He lifted it out, his mind straining at the unfamiliar action, and he kicked the body into the pit. With a dull whump, he lowered the dirt onto the body and used some simple Force push to compact the ground. It appeared slightly damp now, likely from blood and bodily fluids, but the body was disposed of.

Now for the terminal.

Rhoujen swiped the card key, and with a pleasant chime the terminal unlocked. He read over the terminal for anything important, and found that there was an area map, a tracking and termination system for every slave, and a few security camera feeds. There was also a log-in timer and restriction on how long he was allowed to stay signed in. He frowned, and decided that the safety of the slaves was of more importance than his own. He accessed the slave tracking and termination section and ordered the shutdown.

== WARNING ==​

DEACTIVATING SLAVE TRACKING & TERMINATION SYSTEM WILL RESULT IN​

ALARM BEING TRIGGERED TO PREVENT UNAUTHORISED DEACTIVATION.​

​

PROCEED?​

Y/N​

==​

​

Again, the young Templar frowned. He looked to his datapad and hit a few buttons and opened a root interface. He accessed the programming of the command line and removed the alarm side-effect, and also isolated the system so it would perform the task, but not show on any other consoles that the system had been deactivated. He smiled and looked back to the panel. It went jumbled for a moment then displayed new text.

S-0779-665-2 PROTOCOL INITIATED​

DEPENDENT ALARM SYSTEM DISENGAGED​

SYSTEM NOTIFICATIONS ISOLATED​

DATA SAVED AND LOOPED​

​

== ALERT ==​

YOU ARE ABOUT TO DEACTIVATE THE SLAVE TRACKING & TERMINATION​

SYSTEM TO PREVENT ESCAPES. DOING SO WILL COMPROMISE BUSINESS​

AND SECURITY.​

​

PROCEED?​

​

Y/N​

==​

​

Naturally, Atretes hit yes. On the terminal display, the small red dots of every slave's detonating tracer collars faded away until they were all deactivated. He smiled behind his helmet, tucked the key card away into his utility belt, and then locked down the terminal. He exited the tent and faded away back into the paths between cages. He could tell just by looking at them that they knew something was happening. It was a buzz in the air, akin to a sense of cautious hope.

Djonas Vile // Matsu Xiangu // [member="Kiyala Demont"] // [member="Ikki Ike"] // [member="Seanna Vel"]

 

[Vorhi Alestrani]

Vorhi stood near the Auction block, hands bound, appearing as a slave. Lot 13. His lucky number. He faked a non-committal, blank expression as as everyone examined him. Obviously a pit-fighter and a house slave from the scars. Blind, but brutal.

Spoiler

"How can a blind man fight?" One of the buyers sneered, looking at the man.

Vorhi weakly nodded. "I am Miralukan, sir. I was born without eyes, and I do fine without them."

The masters chattered about as he grabbed their attention. He'd distract them plenty while everyone else got into position. After all, this was a simple plan, a basic plan. Wait for the right moment, then break the chains of himself and every one. Then, start a proper riot. Yay, riots. Well, if push came to shove, at least he'd be able to show some fighitng skill for a change. He focused a message to [member="Djonas Vile"] mentally. I'm in position, start your work.

 

[Sophia Walsh]

Sophia had once upon a time posed as a slave for the Republic. She had spent a good three months locked up under cover as they tried to work the system from inside. This was similar to that but she had never been up for bid before which was something the young woman found quite degrading. She wasn't some prize to be won but here she was being poked and prodded like a piece of meat.

"She's stronger than the other females. This one here is a fighter. The prefect blend of feminine beauty and strength," the auctioneer smiled as he pushed Sophia closer to those looking at her. The woman had no real way to object she her hands were bound to a pole as so she didn't excape and to make the slavers feel more comfortable.

She was biding her time for now waiting for the moment that they would strike and stop the madness that was occurring on this planet. Slavers sickened Sophia to the very core.

 

[Raziel]

Spoiler

Quick post, this directly follows on from http://starwarsrp.net/topic/30747-sojourn-ends/#entry432416 and is intended to start introducing my character to the CIS. At the moment he doesn't realise that the ideals of the CIS will align to his own

Raziel admired the beauty of the stars as his small ship went through a graceful pivot. The view slowly changed before him, revealing nebulae, distant planets, and twinkling stars. Back in the distant past civilisations had grouped those stars into constellations based on their patterns. No-one bothered any more. Space travel was so cheap and available that the celestial sphere was an ever changing view.

Raziel enjoyed the serenity. With no minds nearby there were no thoughts or emotions to intrude on his own. Well, almost none. The others were just echoes of course. Out here he was nearly alone enough to think his own thoughts, but he was distressed by just how few he had. Others had made the decisions for him for years, and since gaining freedom his own had hardly improved his lot.

Perhaps if these new employees wanted to use him they were take total control of his life, just as the others had. Reshape him to their needs and take away his freedom to make decisions. Maybe it would bring a modicum of contentment.

No, he had made that decision. That life was akin to floating on a river in a deep trench. Unable to see over the sides, only able to go with the flow and follow the path laid out ahead by others. He would not return to that life. He understood that now, he raised his head above the walls, high above the regular people of the galaxy. He could see out into the distance and carve his own path and he truly believe that his choices would matter. He had the potential to be important, to become powerful.



His ship was approaching his goal. A small red light on the console indicated that his ship was being contacted. Soon he would turn the consoles back on, in the darkness he had been able to appreciate the view that much better…to appreciate the peace.

He would be at the world soon. He could feel them now, even from this distance. A teaming mass of life, the Force coalescing around it. But he could feel the others too. There were Force users here, but he had already expected that. The message he had received, offering employment for a short task had been quite clear what skillset they expected him to utilise. Someone knew he was a Force user, and that in turn led to his suspicions.

His mission was fairly simple, and it had been a trivial matter to arrange the requisite paper work beforehand. Raziel was to pose as a representative of a wealthy potential new client. He would be wined and dined as the auction went ahead by high ranking members of the slavers. Whilst there he would assist in influencing the crown. Subtle manipulations to goad them towards action, well within his capabilities. Once the violence started he had one more simple task. Stick with the highest ranked members of the organisation and ensure they did not leave with their lives. Compared to previous assignments this was fairly straightforward.

There were risks of course. So many slaves cramped into a small space. All that despair, fear and anger. He didn’t have to consciously read people. Their emotions just leaked across into his mind, like osmosis, corrupting his own. It would be hard to filter it out. When the crowd snapper and turned on their masters, he might not be able to control himself.

And then there was the unknown that happened next. If these employers were Force users he might have to meet them. If they knew would that mean something? He knew this would not be a simple task. He could feel potential paths extending away from himself into the future. All paths led here, and then diverged greatly afterwards. A nexus in his potential future. What happened in the next day would alter his course dramatically.

He reactivated his consoles and identified himself. A landing path was uploaded and mapped out before him. His fingers hovered over the screen. They stayed there for a long minute. The choice was his, he didn’t have to go ahead with this. He could return to obscurity and carry on down his desperate path until someone got lucky and ended his sorry existence. He pressed the button, the thrusters engaged and the computer started descent on its own.

 

[Ikki Ike]

[member="Seanna Vel"]

Ikki looked at Seanna and gave a nod while she held a smirk on her face and checked the equipment. Then she was ready and rose in her place using what energy she could from the force to strengthen her tiny frame. To make herself stand strong in the ship and recited to herself checking the spools of monowire as it strung between her fingers. "I am more then ready Mistress Vel."

 

[Raziel]

Sythius Gree raised his hand threateningly as one of the slaves dawdled too much for his liking. The slave set down the tray of hors d'oeuvre between the slave master and Raziel. The slave bowed low to the ground and stepped back away from them, keeping her eyes low.

The male slave stood ready on the opposite side of the table, holding a pitcher of wine. He stood tall and proud, but his eyes stayed deferentially low. All the slaves in the master’s complex had been chosen for their aesthetically pleasing appearance. They were clearly well fed, the bare muscled chest of the slave on Raziel’s right was testament to that. Yet their grovelling attitude brought bile to the back of his throat.

He was used to taking orders, but no one had ever tried to force him into such degrading servitude. He could sense how little they had left. They were almost emotionally numb, almost as if they were retreating back into themselves to try and retreat from the horror of their lives.

Then pens outside were worse. New slaves, many just taken from their previous lives. The fear and anger was overwhelming. Raziel focussed on Sythius’ emotions. The pathetic little man’s passions were based on avarice and ambition. Of course, the little wretch had no real power, Raziel knew the men in charge were nearby, but they wouldn’t appear until later.

Raziel carried on with polite conversation with the salesman automatically, but he just kept focussing on what a revolting creature Sythius Gree was. Raziel briefly pondered what word he would use to describe the slaver, before settling on “jowly”. The little man was podgy, the flesh hanging from his features in an ungainly fashion. He was also slightly sweaty, and used just a little too much grease to slick back his hair.



“So Mr Scatch, why don’t we talk about the kinds of volumes you’d be interested in?” Gree asked.

Immediately, Raziel’s focus shifted. Before he had been half-aware of his words, whilst his conscious was focussed elsewhere. He hadn’t been able to see how far the pens extended on his approach, but he could sense they extended a distance from the complex. He had been subtly prodding and urging the minds of those slaves closest. Trying to dampen their fears, whilst fuelling their anger. He had also sensed some of the infiltrators in their midst. Whoever his employers were, there were Force users amongst them. Wouldn’t be long now before they moved. For now he had to focus on keeping the slaver’s interested in his business.

“Demand is not really an issue for us,” Raziel calmly explained. “The issue is what we can move without attracting attention. Actually, it’s how much it costs to make the attention go away and the point when it becomes profitable,”

“Well, let me just start by saying that supply is not really a problem for us,” Gree replied with a wicked grin.

“Very well, we can ship thousands at a time. We have contacts across the core worlds. We’re happy to purchase in bulk, but the question for me is quality. It costs money to ship slaves to worlds where the practise is illegal, so we can’t afford to just ship poor stock. We need quality Mr Gree.” Raziel replied. To emphasise his point he slapped the muscled slave on his chest a little too hard. The slave winced briefly, but otherwise acted as if nothing had happened.

“We can work to that, but you know that we collect from a spectrum. We have many regular clients, you’ll meet many today when the auction starts. How would they feel if we just sold off the cream to one buyer?”

Raziel nodded his head understandingly. He knew how this game worked. He had impersonated business men before. Of course, just to be certain he had tracked down an ex-slaver for a little discussion a few weeks ago and was skim reading Gree’s thoughts and emotions.

“All I am saying, Mr. Gree, is that we don’t want to be stuck trying to shift the chaff. We’d need to see some manifests to assure us of quality, and obviously we’d have our own quality assurance measures. If you could work to that…?”

“I don’t see that as a significant barrier, but you’ve got to understand how mobile our operation is. We have to work quickly and often need quick turnarounds.”

“Perhaps we could test the water, so to speak? Maybe we start with smaller volumes, and see how the relationship pans out?”

“I would expect nothing else,” Gree replied quickly. “I tell you what, why don’t we look at some of the fine examples we’ve picked up right here on Lyra?”

“Yes, we could go down to the pens …” Raziel paused mid-sentence, sensing he had erred. “I joke. Bring me some manifests and some specimens to inspect. Clean ones please.”

“Certainly,” Gree clapped his hands and the female slave reappeared. Another tray of food in her hands. She set it down on the table before Sythius ran his fingers down her body. His grip settled on her wrist and pulled her down to his lips. He whispered quietly in her ear, before she turned and left.

The slaver pulled a datapad out from under his plush chair, passing it across the table. “Why don’t you have a look,” he said, before stuffing a morsel into his cheeks. “Twenty three is a … umf .. fine eggsampm,”

Raziel shot the slaver a disapproving glare for talking over the mouthful of food, playing up to the salver’s expectations of a prim civilised criminal. “Yes I see, you have some musicians, even a few with University education.”

“Yeff, very good for tutoring rich kis” Gree replied between chewing.

“I assume I may watch how the auction plays out?” Raziel replied, pretending to be engrossed in the report.

“Of course,”

“Will the owner of your establishment be around.”

“Oh yes, we’ll have a few drinks while the sales play out. They’re quite keen to meet you, assuming we can agree some terms, that is Mr. Scatch.”



Raziel spent the next few minutes checking over several slaves who were brought before him. He checked their teeth, asked them questions about their skills. Common questions the ex-slaver had told him to ask. Several of them were forced to strip so Raziel could inspect them. One of them stubbornly refused to answer questions and was taken away. Raziel sensed his pain keenly as he was ruthlessly beaten just a few metres away before being returned to the pens. All the time his mind plotted. What he needed next was something to use as a weapon. All hell was soon to break loose.

 

[Seanna Vel]

Seeing one of her fellow, [member="Ikki Ike"] brought a smirk upon her lips. Even in her outfit, knowing how dangerous this little black beauty. Even so she needed to keep up her present. Around the pen, only before slipping in the maid hand before closing it up. Lending into her whisper at the same time letting her own hand run down the side of her body. In her mind knowing this wasn't at all like her but in in the field had to make sure she stay in character. "Sweetie, its all codes you sweet little heart desire, you know the rest." winking at her before pulling way.

So soon there would be much blood shed taking place, giving those that would in slave other what was due to them. Just to think the art of it all, some would be killed by her own hands will looking into their fearful eyes. It just suck that they choice was a bad one. This bring another smirk upon her lips, as she glared at those slaves through the cage. Wanting more then anything to tell them that they would be free soon.

It was the beeping of her pad looking down at the red alarm. Taking off to where the showed in Section C level 4 Code. Finding herself in the middle of a few of the low thugs that was hired. "Move it, Or loose Your Balls.", just her voice sent a part for her to see what was going on. Seeing that two of the slaves at it again. Only to see that one under her was about to end the one life. "STOP, DUMM.." , with out even thinking she was by the thug side taking the knife out of his hand. Putting the knife up the thugs throat, pushing it up against his throat. "NEXT TIME I WILL IN YOUR LIFE, PIECE OF SHIT.", letting it sink in.

"THAT ONE WORTH AT LESS 25K IF NOT MORE." with letting it sink in. As she then walked way with the knife in hand. Before giving him another look. "I would change your pants, sugar." shaking her head at how he had pee himself.

The two slaves now having their eyes down as she walked towards them. "Follow me", waving off any help, putting on the stun cuffs for show more then anything. Walking them towards a small building. Getting inside it had been set up as punishment and breaking area. Turning around after getting them inside and locking the building down. "Okay, game over, I know those moves your ex-military aren't you? ", with out even letting the one that had started it all to speak yet. "Did you want to die out there foolishly."

"How about I put your life better use, maybe even let you go down fighting.", pausing as she let herself look at both of them before answering. Even then could tell that there was trust issues. "Look here, this might help build a trust more. I"m here undercover working for the Knights, we are planning to whats this work, heck ..all hell going to break loose soon, you both end, put your differences a side."

"Oh, now your talking Mistress." giving her the look over.

"Good, then now if you don't mind I can't leave you with out a few marks.", they both give a look. Taking one of the whips that would do the less amount of damage, giving them both hard strikes across the backs. After words, finding herself reaching into a hidden trapped door, that she found by accident when first giving a tour of the place. Pulling out small knifes, sticking them down the front of there pants, then giving them a key lock. Giving them both a dead look. Knowing what she had just give them was a way to take their collars off when the time came.
"One more thing, when you hear the words, Let there be freedom, for all, make your move."

Bring them both to have their cuff still on unlocking the door lending them back towards their cage. Only to stop and talk to one of the tugs. "Take that one two the next cage, so their will be no more trouble.", with out waiting for a word. Walked off towards another part of the camp.

[member="Raziel"] / [member="Ikki Ike"] / [member="Sophia Denko"] / [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] / [member="Atretes Rhoujen"] / [member="Kiyala Demont"] / [member="Matsu Xiangu"] / [member="Djonas Vile"]

 

[Raziel]

"I do hope Mr. Gree has been looking after you," boomed a voice from behind them.

Raziel turned to see a group of three large men bearing down on them. Burly, scarred, and well armed they had the appearance of professional slavers. It seemed that the owners of this operation had decided to show themselves.

Sythius couldn't move from this seat fast enough and was given a light shove as one of the three took his place. A gnarled hand was extended towards Raziel. He took it with his left, but palmed a knife from the table with his right at the same time.

It wasn't much, but the odds were stacked against him enough already. He was outnumbered by men who were stronger than him, well armed and experienced.

"So Mr Scatch, we are provisionally happy with our agreement," the man began. If rocks could be ground together until they could make an approximation of speech, that's what his voice would sound like.

"My name is Dax. It sounds like we're almost ready to do business. Just a couple of things first.
"Now, I'm a little on the cautious side. So we've done plenty of checking around on your bosses and you, not a great deal of info out there, but you have a solid rep. I can't meet your requirements for our first few transaction."

"Which details exactly," Raziel replied. He sensed being straight to the point would be best.

"I'm not going to give you much notice of our sales, " Drax replied bluntly, scratching his chin. Clearly he was the most comfortable conversationalist out of the three leaders.

"Imagine that you're actually with some kind of authorities. If I told you about a sale too far in advance, you might be more interested in stopping one of our raids," he held his hands up to his sides. "Don't get me wrong, I've got a good feel for you, but I just need to explain my position."

Raziel sat back, carefully considering his next words.

“I appreciate you being candid. That can work for us. From our own perspective, we wanted to keep the first transactions small, to test the water. We could not work under those conditions for large numbers though. It’s expensive to keep stock for a long period of time. All that food, and the extra chance of disease.” Raziel replied.

“Fine.” Drax replied abruptly. “Lastly, I’ll need to meet your employer. “You seem a good man, but you are your employer’s version of Sythius here. Lots of talk. We could do it in a neutral venue, but I like to shake hands with a man before doing business.”

“That might be a problem. They couldn’t be seen in public with you – no offense – and they’d be nervous you might just want to ransom them. Just laying it out as well.” Raziel replied. Everything about his mannerisms had changed to adopt to this new conversation: his tone of voice, hand gestures, facial expressions.

“S’fine,” Drax replied.

“I wouldn’t want to commit them to something. Why don’t I get in touch with them after the auction and we can see if we can make arrangements.”

“Alright,” Drax replied, clearly a tad disappointed. “Speaking of which, things will be starting soon, and I have some more business to discuss”

 

[Raziel]

Raziel stood on a balcony overlooking the pens. A glass of fine drink perched on the rail before him, and a bowl of snacks on a table to his left. Such civility in the midst of depravity. Slaves were being herded towards a dais.

Whilst Sythius had been trying to keep him entertained, he had taken the opportunity to carry out influencing the crowd below. His keen eyes watched the crowd carefully. There were other infiltrators down below. He had no clue what their own goals were, he was here as a free agent and just had his own brief.

There was a noise as the doors behind them slid open. Raziel had already sensed the three owners coming.

“Mr Scatch,” Drax said, nodding to him. Raziel feigned surprise. Two armed guards had come with them. That was a problem.

“We’re about to get started,” Sythius explained.

“So some deals have already been made for groups of slaves, but some are now done in open auctions?” Raziel asked.

“Indeed,” replied one of the Drax’s associates. Vester Raziel picked the name from Sythius’ mind easily. “We tend to use the auctions for particularly desirable individuals, or niche groups.”

Raziel looked down at the group of buyers down below, many of them also armed. Each was studying a datapad. He assumed that was how the auction was conducted.

“Could I get a pad?” he asked. “Just in case I feel like making a personal purchase,” he quickly explained when Drax shot him a confused glare.

A wide smile replaced the glare, “but of course!” Drax waved at one of the guards who left the balcony. That left four. Sythius didn’t really count as an obstacle.



“What’s that commotion in the distance?” Raziel asked.

Drax followed his gaze. “Nothing to worry about, the slaves cause a bit of a fuss when being moved. Nothing to worry about.”

“You have plenty of guards then?” Raziel asked.

“The same number as we used to take this settlement with ease!” Drax boasted.

Yes, Raziel thought. But now they’re split up and spread thin amongst the slaves. He could sense events beginning to unfold. Guards were quietly dying across the camp. The slave masters were too dense to notice what was happening. Time to act, Raziel decided.

The blade was in his right hand in a moment, brought up under Drax’s chin and held against his throat. He used the Force to pull a blaster from the guard’s holster. He had expected the slavers to freeze, instead they did not hesitate.

Drax pulled away from the blade quickly, Raziel nicked his throat but missed the major arteries. Raziel double tapped the blaster pistol and put two neat holes in Vester. Then the only guard smashed into him. The big man grasped him under the shoulders, but Raziel was so light that the momentum took them both over the railings.



Drax swore loudly as he rubbed at the neck wound. Blood trickled between his fingers, but he knew he would be fine. He rushed to the edge of the railing, hearing the pair of men fall to the ground below. His guard and the would-be assassin had fallen two stories into deep mud and were grappling below.

Drax looked to Vester’s body. The three owners were now two it would seem. Pity, they had been in business as a trio for nearly a decade. He was about to order more guards down below to bring him the assassin alive. A flaying would be too quick a death for that one. Then he noticed it. Out in the pens the commotion the assassin had pointed out was building. There was blaster fire now and screaming.

“Oh dear,” he said. He’d seem things go out of hand before. “Get all the guards out into the pens, put down that riot. Mr Gree, I think we might head for the shuttle,” he instructed. Drax had seen slave riots that had gone bad before. Best to get out of the way and leave the guards to deal with it, beside, there might be other assassins about.



Raziel hit the ground hard. He was quick, but in the slick mud he couldn’t find his footing before the guard was on top of him. The guard had a huge weight advantage on him and bore Raziel down to the ground.

Raziel closed his eyes and mouth as his face was pressed into the mud. He had precious few moments to get loose. He tried to shift his weight, but he hands and feet just slipped in the mud. His assailant pressed down harder.

Then Raziel kicked his foot straight into the ground. His foot squelched deep into the mud, giving his toes purchase. He pushed and twisted and freed himself from the grip, taking a deep gulp of air whilst he had the chance. He slid away, but the guard followed, pulling at his leg.

Raziel twisted onto his back, using his other foot to deliver two kicks to the guards face with the heel of his boot. Undeterred the guard launched himself forward, this time going for the throat. The wily assassin was ready this time, getting his knees between them.

He delivered two telekinetically-enhanced punches to the temple, throwing the guard to the side. Raziel rolled with him and had his shins around the guards neck in a moment. The guard grasped at him, but his hands found no purchase in the mud. He desperately groped around in the mud for purchase, but the life was slowly being squeezed from him.

Raziel stood up once the guard stopped struggling. He was covered from head to toe in thick, dark mud. The pens were pandemonium now. The riots had started. He breathed heavily, trying to force oxygen down, but there was no time for pause. Blood welled from a cut to his cheek, mixing with the black mud.

The remaining two owners of the slaving company were fleeing, he could sense them moving away. Raziel found the blaster and knife in the mud a short distance away. He had made a stupid mistake, but he still had a job to do.

 

[Vorhi Alestrani]

[member="Djonas Vile"]
@Seanna Kal
He frowned as the riot started before he could get into position. FETH! This was no way to win a war. He sighed. "Well, time to quit playing the fool," he said as he snapped his chains with a kick unbinding his wrists, the manacles still on him. He grabbed the nearest guard, slamming him into a wall, and began running through the melee. It was nothing more than a crowded dance-floor, and he wanted a fun partner, who wouldn't? He grinned, running toward the angriest, largest slave-driver in the mob. A lunatic with a electrowhip. A torturer....good. He'd feel less bad about holding back. The whip came down and struck a young slave, and then its next target was a thrown rock by Vorhi--sending the whip to recoil back towards it's owner, who quickly dodged it and spat towards the "blind slave."

"You think a weak Miralukan can tame me? You're stronger than msot, Whelp," the burly Human belted out, "But I am master of these pits. I'll flay you as an example! You're a sheep."

Vorhi smiled, removing his blindfold and grinning. "I am not as weak as you are, M'boy," he said calmly. "But come. Show me your vaunted power, master," he said with sort of charming, eternally polite and acidic derisiveness that one can only get by speaking alongside emperors and their consorts. He nodded. "Show me your full might, so that I may determine its weight in these affairs!" A thin green light seems to shine from the empty sockets of the Miralukan Master.

"Show me the spirit of a Master, M'boy! Amuse me for a few minutes, as this riot spirals around us. TO ALL MASTERS I PRESENT THIS CHALLENGE!!!" He yelled as he ran toward the man blocking his path to the auction block. It was time for his show to begin.

 

[EmKay]

[OOC: Folding out. I think we're going to retcon this and redo the dominion anyway.]