Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Law and Order [Republic Remnant Dominion of the Nar Haaska Hex]

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Location || Ziugen - Waiting Room
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Iona stumbled as she stepped wrong, once again, the heel of, what they called her shoe, went left and her ankle went right. She was barely able to recover by latching onto a wall before her angle twisted too far. "Who makes these things!?" Iona wailed to the empty pristine corridor. These shoes were a nightmare. A living nightmare. She knew what they were, of course, heels, not just any heels, but high stilettos, her ankles were six inches above the ground here petite feet wrapped in a crisscross of black leather to keep them secured, hideously huge gemstones running along each strap, a shoe so hideous that it reeked of overcompensating indulgence. As she leaned against the wall, for the seventh time since walking down the hallway, Iona looked around the large white marble hall, there were no guards, but they didn't need any, she had spotted seven holorecorders so far, three that were made obvious so whatever slave going through would know they were being watched and four they didn't want people to know were there. 'How!? How do people walk in these things!?' Iona wanted to scream with frustration as she had nearly twisted her ankle so many times she was terrified of letting go of the wall.
Iona could run full sprint on a wet pipe only four inches across and not sway. She can sit steadily upon a floating rock and not tremble. Her sense of balance was impeccable even before she was a Jedi, but these things were monstrous. She could remember watching her 'betters' back on Coruscant back when she would sneak up to pickpocket, steal ration bars which, while bland and with an almost, and thankfully, indecipherable taste were far better then what she normally could get, or when some of them would come down to the lower-city on some charity event to make themselves feel better, how they stood in these monsters, these shoes that made them look so regale, so potent, so beautiful... Walking so far above the dirt that she lived in as if they lived on another galaxy. Iona had always dreamed of being like them, even if only for a moment, being beautiful and never having to worry about the next meal or what corner to avoid if they didn't want a blade in their back, and now, now she would rather walk barefoot then on these things.
Perhaps it was the tight, confining shimmering emerald dress that clung far too closely to her curves and made her feel like she was being smothered, or it could have been the cosmetics they had applied to her face, it felt like she was wearing a mask, a mask that she couldn't take off and that was 'part' of her yet wasn't, or, it was her hair which constantly irked her now that it wasn't in her lovely ponytail kept far away from her face. Now it fell in waves around her shoulders, clipped to fix her frayed, burnt ends that came from cutting it with her lightsaber, meticulously prepared so that, instead of her normal straight hair, it now had gentle curls that gave it depth, Iona had not recognized herself in the mirror when Nancy had shown her. The face looking back at her was that of the women who she used to hate and envy in equal measure. The face of a woman who would sell for a hefty credit value, but put enough makeup on anything and they can pass as beautiful, or, well, Iona was fairly confident that was how it worked, why else have it if it didn't?
Iona pushed off against the wall and took a few, small tentative steps down the hall, her hands held out to her sides acting as counter balances as she did her best not to stumble as she kept going down the hall, but one thought had stayed with her the entire time, where were the other slaves? Why was she the only one here?
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Iona collasped into the soft chair in what, she can only assume, was a waiting room. At least she had discovered the answer to her question as three other women were also in the room with her. Each one wearing beautiful clothing, each one beautiful, although they weren't all the same. A young twi'lek say huddled in a corner chair, her makeup running from her tears, when Iona had asked what was wrong, the oldest of their group, a beautiful mature Zeltron woman had said a certain Hutt with a peculiar taste had taken an interest in her bidding. From the sound of it, Iona could hazard what those taste were, some of her friends, in the past, who grew desperate for food would do... jobs for money and sometimes they would come back beaten or cut up... sometimes they never came back. For the girl's sake, Iona hoped the cavalry was coming in because she didn't want to see that again.
"I hate the waiting," the mature Zeltron, Larrise said, her husky voice well used to sending chills down the spines of the opposite, and likely, same sex. The Zeltron made a show of examining her nails as if bored with teh entire thing, "I suppose they need to keep the boys waiting, last time I sold for a nice mill," she said, her voice purred with satisfaction.
"You like this?" Iona asked in disbelief
Larrise made a show of looking Iona offer before sniffing as if she didn't find her worthy of the attention, "Of course, the trick is just finding the right buyer. They think they are here to pick, but they aren't, if you're clever, you can pick your," she paused before stressing the word as if a bashful teenagers admitting her first love, "master."
Larrise let out a pearl of laughter, "Its not different then being 'free', find the right man, get a nice place to live, get pampered by those not smart enough to figure out the game and when you get bored of him, throw up a fuss until you get put back into the store to look for the next adorable little puppy. If you're really lucky, you sometimes get ones that can backup all their bravado. Then, you get one of these lovely little things," she said and caressed the collar around her neck, unlike theirs which were bulky and gray, hers was paper thin and was forged of a beautiful silvery metal. Iona blinked when she realized it wasn't a shock collar. It was jewelry, nothing more then a stylish symbol of ownership. The woman had no reason to be kept there.
Iona starred at the woman for awhile, at first, she didn't believe what she was hearing and then... and then she understood. People did what they needed to to survive, some people tried to blend in, others trying to control the situation.. others made them think they were okay with it, that as long as they didn't let it get to them they weren't really bad off, that, in truth, they had somehow managed to cheat the system and weren't the ones at a disadvantage. She had lived with those kinds of people her entire life, girls who would come back and stay in the hole in the wall she called home for a place to sleep covered in bruises but with their chins held high, looking down at her for the squaler she lived in while they made do things they weren't proud of, at least they didn't live like she did. It made them feel better, to see someone living differently and believe themselves to be better, to validate their decisions to themselves so they could live with the decisions they were making.
"I'm sorry," Iona said and she meant it, "For what they did to you. It won't last, you'll be free."
Larrise shot her a venomous look, "Free to what? Starve? Do you hate me?" she asked and giggled at Iona as if speaking to a child, "Because I know how to survive in this world? To thrive? You think you are special? Toothpick of a girl like you, I see pieces of meat like you come through here all the time, believing the universe is anything more then something that will chew you up and spit you back out just to do it all again because it loves the taste, the screams of your pain as you beg them to please stop, to just stop hitting you."
"They will stop," Iona said, "Very soon."
"I can't wait," Larrise said her voice filled with venom, "Not for your delusions to come true, no, I can't wait for the next month, or two, maybe even six months, when your buyer brings you back after breaking you, breaking that innocent little spirit of yours. I'm going to be watching your auction, sitting in a bed being massaged and drinking the finest of blossom wines as you are a broken wreck sold for half the price you were just a month ago."
Iona gave the woman a large smile, "We'll see."
 

BD-57

Guest
B
Operation: Chainbreaker
Objective Two: Create a Slave Revolt
Location: Ziugen - Spaceport
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Two positive things had occured in the last few hours for BD. First and foremost, the mission briefing in all its detailed glory had finally completed downloading to his memory banks for one. This gave the droid the advantage of actually knowing what the primary and secondary objectives were, a listing of the friendly Republic forces on the ground who had gone into deep infiltration within the slave pens, as well as a neat and tidy timetable for all of this to occur in.

The second positive thing that happened was acquiring a means of delivering the garrison load of weaponry onboard the Jedi’s starship, which according to the briefing, was named ‘The Watchman’. There was a side note inserted next to the ships name, listing concerns about the reliability of the ship, the term ‘hunk of junk’ having been used. Even BD had a soft circuit for machinery that wasn’t given the proper maintenance. Speaking of the means of delivering the weapons with subtlety. An unattended cargo speeder, which were commonplace around the docks for transporting the ‘merchandise’, merchandise in this case being the slaves themselves, had been ‘impounded in the name of the Republic’. At least that is what the reason given would be if BD had been stopped and questioned. That was the thing. Most simply overlooked a Droid. Even as it climbed aboard the vehicle, started it up, rear ended a speeder that was parked ‘too close’ behind it, and took off at a pace that aimed to result in the lowest probability of suspicion.

There was a new obstacle arisen now, even after BD had successfully navigated to The Watchman. Finding it had not been difficult, based off the profile of the ships description and notes of the disrepair the ship was likely in. Upon arrival, it appeared the task of offloading the weapons had fallen to the Droid. What kind of galaxy was this where such manual labor was left to the Droids?

After what BD’s internal timekeeper clocked in at exactly three hundred and ninety four minutes having passed since the beginning of this task, the objective was completed. Stashed inside the speeder’s cargo hold were the crates of weaponry. More than enough to arm a resistance movement to overthrow the Hutt Cartel. Now the only trouble was ensuring that these weapons would be delivered to the right place, at the exact right time, without any Hutt getting wise to the ruse that was being played upon them.

“BD-57 checking in....again. Your weapons are en-route, Jedi- *screech*”

It was true that using a commlink while piloting a speeder was dangerous after all. BD believed the speeder’s controls had been set to forward acceleration. In truth they had still been in reverse. This led to the screech of the speeder’s rear plating scraping across the hull of The Watchman. That certainly left a mark on the speeder.

"Uhh Ohh."

[member="Belizarius Krusi"] [member="Thaaros Klopp"] [member="Iona Immarya"]
 
Primary Objective: Seize control of the planet from the Hutts
Secondary Objective: Capture the Hutts in charge
Tertiary Objective: Shadow business....move along!
Quaternary Objective: Sober Alexandra up

In Kian's time as a Jedi Shadow he had spent a great deal of time in some very unsavory places but there was something uniquely vile about the feel of a Hutt controlled world. Kian could not quite put his finger on it. It was a sense in the force, a feeling of.....oppression......a feeling of....fear. It was an unsettling feeling but one that Kian had experienced from time to time when he had ventured to worlds such as this.

Kian's hand drifted down to his waist brushing against the dark hilt of his lightsaber and stepped further back into the shadows. Looking around, Kian was certain he still hadn't been seen. He'd arrived in a transport several hours previously and had set out to do some leg work on ways into the palace. Kian had no contacts on the planet, but it was amazing how much one could learn simply by listening to what people say in passing or in hushed conversations when they thought others are not listening.

Kian had been making his way closer and closer to the palace while collecting information when he'd suddenly felt a familiar presence. The force signature was strong and, while Kian was certain he'd known them, he was not familiar enough with the aura to pinpoint just who it was.

"Everything alright Master?" Gnost asked in his ear. Kian turned his attention across the street to where his young apprentice was kneeling in an alley, dressed in street clothes. The two had been working more and more together and the younger Jedi was beginning to be adept at reading his uncle's force signature. Their natural abilities of telepathy also aided in this process.

"I think so." Kian said pulling further back into the alley. "Make your way back to the ship. I want you there to provide information and an escape should we need it." Kian said and began to make his way toward the force signature.

When the presence lead Kian to a cantina he began to have a sinking feeling who it might be....


[member="Alexandra Feanor"] | [member="Sav Elko"]​
 
Location: Onboard The Watchman, orbiting Ziugen
Objective Two: Create a slave revolt on Ziugen


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Growing up on Taris Belizarius was used to poverty but not quite debauchery like here. As he entered the slave markets he came across all sorts from Twileks with slave collars whose clothing look like they were desperately trying to hide bruises and sores. Obviously whoever was buying these slaves weren't exactly into treating the nicely. These are the sort of people you'd often find in the refugee camps trying desperately to usually make the best of a bad situation. The amount of people here were ind boggling but reality is.... it wasn't called a slave market for no reason.

This made him feel extremely uncomfortable but he had to remain focused on his mission at hand, the markets had terminals everywhere which appeared to be used to do things like transfer funds and make transactions for some low-value slaves who probably weren't worth the floor. He walked over to one and started playing around with it. Nothing too serious he was just trying to find something similar to a security center or armory which he could then get into and do a bit of sabotage. It was at this time that he got the message from @BD-57 "Thanks, I am currently trying to infiltrate security at this local slave market. We need enough time for the slaves to get these guns plus we need to be able to source more weapons. 1000 guns might start a revolution but won't end it"

It was at this stage that he sliced into the terminal and found a map, now to see what he could find in order to save these people.

Growing up rich on a planet filled with poverty was scaring on the Jedi when he was younger, families living in shipping containers if they were lucky but sometimes even living in ruins of buildings. Olaris was a pretty well rebuilt sector but plenty of sector up to 70% of the population were living in buildings which had bad water and often little access to enough food. The government barely exists on Taris and has done little to really try to make the lives of these people better. The Merchants still dictated for the most part who ruled over the Sectors. He remembered once when he was 4 coming across a dead family while he was exploring just outside Olaris.

Rakghoul's were pretty rare on Taris but a few still survive and every now again might even kill a Tarisian or two. That sort of desperation was here also and far worse. He couldn't let these people down... most deserved far better than this.


[member="Iona Immarya"] Thaaros Klopp
 
Objective 1

So the team was going to get moving. The trick being that Savannah was here to help assist the Republic, the team who had been helping save the Alliance’s collective rear for the past few months. It was time to return the favor and set up some assistance on a few new planets. Her team had been briefed remotely, but now was the time to get things moving. Several Jedi had been dispatched and she was given their frequencies from her Master. It was time to get to work.

[member="Kian Karr"] was Jedi Master that Coren assumed would be around. She was to contact him with any form of information. But her team was moving, a bit dispersed yet together, through the town. Keeping an eye on roadways and where talk was of anything relating to the Hutts and their crime.

That lead her straight to a cantina. That was apparently where she was needed. Shaking her head, she looked at her team. “Keep an eye on this place. Need two of you inside with me.” She didn’t have a lightsaber, but Force if she couldn’t imbue herself a weapon that was just as nasty.

Almost grinning, she pulled the cloak over her armor tighter and made her way inside.

[member="Alexandra Feanor"]
 
Location: Bridge of the RNV Iviin'yc
Objective 1: Launch Reinforcement Gunships
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Tucker had heard the entirety of the communication from Awuad. Tucker left the comm frequency open so the man could hear him as he gave his next orders, "Comm, order the fleet to stand down and order the ships to disperse and assume their blockade postings. Hold the Agincourt's gunships so we can relay that transmission to Vaun before he deploys."

"Aye, sir. Relaying orders now."

There was a slight catch if Awuad's info was correct - Vaun wasn't a Jedi Knight. There was no way that slight detail would stop the man from accessing the transmission though, that Mandalorian was as stubborn as a wild shaak. With the fleet given its orders, Joshua turned his full attention to his response to Awuad, "Negative. I will be remaining on the Iviin'yc to coordinate the blockade, I'm far too out of practice to be confronting criminals face to face. Besides, I'm sure Vaun will be more than capable of covering my absence in that regard."

Tucker sighed, thinking back to a time when his bones weren't so brittle and his frame wasn't so fragile, "I will make sure that the Jedi transmission is relayed to him though. Depending on the contents of the transmission, I should be able to persuade Vaun to link up with you."

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"]​
 
Location: Ziugen, Slave Market
Objective 2
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The alarm had signalled that Thaaros and his group of fellow slaves were to be prepared for sale. They were first moved into what felt like an even smaller holding pen but it was not actually any smaller, it was just filled with more people. Thaaros’s group had been mixed with a dozen or so others, this other group was made up of fitter individuals that would be more suited to manual labour. It was apparently an attempt to make the group look like a worthwhile investment, like giving a lick of paint to an old ship in an attempt to cover up all the rust. Thaaros did not think that it would work.

The door to the Pen hissed open and in walked the Twi’lek that Thaaros had been captured by, that now felt like it was an eternity ago. The Slaver was flanked by two guards holding what appeared to be whips, they pushed the nearest slaves to the ground as they walked in and viciously kicked them just for good measure. A few others tried to move and help their fallen comrades but they quickly backed off as the Twi’lek waved a small device at them. It was the control to their shock collars.

“You filth are the lowest of the low. You’re worthless.” The Twi’lek laughed mockingly at all of those at his mercy.

“Then just let us go… please you said we aren’t worth anything. Please I am beg…” One of the slaves threw himself onto his knees and begged. It was no use, the Twi’lek just looked down in contempt and pressed the device in his hand. It sent a pulse of electricity through the slave collar that made the man howl in agony.

“Don’t you misunderstand me, everyone has their price. Even you scum will bring in something. Just stay quiet and try not to look so pathetic.” He turned and began to walk out, as he did so he shocked the same man again.

As the door to Pen hissed closed Thaaros walked over to the man who was still writhing around on the floor. He helped him to his feet and supported him for a few moments. As the man regained some of his strength he nodded thankfully at Thaaros and moved back to where he had previously been standing. Looking around, Thaaros could see nothing but terror in the eyes of his fellow slaves. There were at least fifty people now crammed into the Holding Pen waiting to be sold.

‘How much are we all worth?’ Thaaros wondered momentarily before rebuking himself for even thinking about the monetary cost of living beings. He had lived under one tyrannical regime and was not going to entertain the idea of living under another.

“Is he alright?” It was Ryn, the young Rodian boy who had barely left Thaaros’s side in the last few hours.

“He will be.” Said Thaaros defiantly, “Soon this will all be just a distant memory, like a bad dream.” He patted Ryn on the shoulder.

A few of those around the pair seemed to scoff at the idea that there was any hope for the group, so many of them had already resigned their selves to this nightmare. Thaaros could not decide whether he should reveal that there was hope for them all, he knew that the Republic would be beginning their liberation of Ziugen any moment now. However, he also feared that they would come too late, he did not want to raise any hopes just to have them dashed yet again.

“There are those in this Galaxy that care about the likes of us. That will come and help us. We just have to make sure we are ready when they get here.” Thaaros spoke loudly, making sure everybody heard him.

“You can tell the boy all the fairy-tales you like but don’t try and kid us.” One of the group spoke up and almost looked like he was going to laugh.

“There is still hope. There is always hope. Even if there isn’t anyone coming, they’re scarred of us.” Thaaros pointed towards the pen door, “Why do you think they keep us in these collars? Why do you think they carry those whips and blasters? They know that we outnumber them ten to one. . .”

“Will you shut up! You’ll get us all killed!” The man was now shaking Thaaros in a mixture of anger and panic.

Pushing the man back Thaaros looked around him and could see all those around him shifting uncomfortably, a few mumbled conversations breaking out amongst them. Perhaps this was how rebellions began, with the oppressed hopefully murmuring in some dark corner and beginning to believe that their fates had not already been decided.

[member="Belizarius Krusi"] [member="BD-57"] [member="Iona Immarya"]
 

BD-57

Guest
B
Operation: Chainbreaker
Objective Two: Create a Slave Revolt
Location: Ziugen - En Route to Slave Market
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Everything was going according to plan. That was if the plan involved BD scraping at least three additional speeders, on top of the one back in the shipyard as well as the Jedi’s ship itself while he made his way through the cramped streets that led to the slave markets. It was a very fortunate thing that this particular speeder was a closed cabin so the perpetrator of these hit and runs could not be easily identified. Though, on a planet where the law was considered to be whatever hired guns on the payroll of the Hutts, a speeder scraping the paint of another speeder wasn’t high on the list of their priorities. Unless it was a vessel belonging to the Hutts themselves. Though if everything continued to go according to plan this entire system would no longer be under the thumb of the Hutts. But such a bright future for the system would only come to fruition if the Republic forces achieved nothing short of total victory. Total victory here begun with ensuring that these weapons arrived on time to arm the soon to be revolting slaves.

The complexities of how rebellion would be fermented was beyond comprehension in BD’s logic module. Such problems were better solved by Jedi and higher ranking military officials who they themselves had been programmed for such tasks. His programming had been focused on other things. Such as how to hit every fifth to sixth shot fired from the blaster at the enemy, how to march in an orderly fashion to prove to be a very easy target to hit, and who could forget blending in the background to not draw too much attention to oneself. All of these functions would certainly be put to the test once the liberation of the planet began.

Speaking of! BD brought the speeder to a halt on the main road that ran parallel to the slave markets themselves. Finding the markets had been no easy feat. Those optical sensors of his were strained beyond factory recommendations to spot the large, neon lit sign that read ‘Slave Auctions’ along with a flashing arrow that indicated the exact location. Such an accomplishment was a credit to the assembly line that BD was cranked out of all those years ago.

All there was to do now was to ensure the cache of weapons remained firmly in the hands of the Republic. That was until they were to be put into the hands of the slaves who would buy their own freedom through blaster fire. BD exited the speeder and took up a defensive position next to the parked craft. Defensive position in this case being the droid standing by the cargo hatch of the craft, keeping that E-5 blaster rifle snugly in those metal claws and attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible. That shouldn’t be too hard.
 
Objective Two: Survive
Location: Ziugen, locked in a cell


Blood congealed at his feet in sticky masses that filled the room with the sickly sweet scent of vitae. The floor itself had once been pristine durasteel, but was not marked with all forms of filth and detritus. The cell was tiny when compared to those of his compatriots; Cedric could do little more than stand by way of movement.

The slave had been left alone in this dark corner of the facility for months. The first few weeks were little more than a vague flashes of memory, no doubt the result of the drunken stupor his captors had left him in. His armor had been taken and pawned away; his lightsaber could have been anywhere. Fortunately his father's helm had been left back on Ession, the slavers hadn't managed to take all of his belongings. He had expected to be told shortly after his capture, but nothing had changed since his captivity began.

He recalled his vessel being ripped apart by the First Order's guns. He remembered seeing his compatriots die en masse as life support on the vessel's lower levels had failed. Then came the soothing darkness that had been unconsciousness; a peace that Cedric had thought would deliver him to his death.

But it hadn't.

He'd been taken by his enemies and sold to the highest bidder once they learned that he was of little value to the Galactic Alliance. The slavers had paid a pretty penny for a Jedi Knight, but the attraction was worth it. Rather than sell their new commodity, the slavers had given him to one of their scientists interested in researching the genetic makeup of force sensitives.

The months that followed had not been pleasant.

A heavy sigh fell from the haggard Jedi's lips. He peered out into the darkness beyond his cell, his senses extending far beyond the barriers of the physical. He felt the familiar sensation of suffering and decay all around him, but there was something different today; something positive.

For the first time in a very long time indeed, Cedric felt hope coming from those around him.

"What's going on?" He whispered to himself through cracked lips, his voice far more haggard than he'd ever remembered it to be.

Only silence chose to answer him.
 
Alyson had unfinished business. She had to abandon and old friend to the First Order to save her own hide, and she hated herself for it. She had to leave an old friend to the dogs to get out, and while she knew he would not hold her accountable, she did. Cedric had been captured by the first order and she had spent the better part of a year tracking him down. She started by infiltrating the First Order prison network, only to find some corrupt officer had sold him off to slavers. She then bounced from slaver to slaver, until she was lead here.

The conditions were sickening, people were beaten, tortured, and abused on a daily basis, only to be sold off to some awful crime lord. This was unacceptable, and she had to do something, but it had to wait, she had a job to do. Using her well developed force senses she slipped through the building without a soul seeing her. She had her lightsaber, and Cedric's own saber. She had grabbed it off of one of the slavers who kept it as a trophy. Damn trandoshan took one hell of beating but she got the lightsaber from him eventually.

Her armor was designed to be as quiet as possible, nobody was going to hear her climbing around on the ceiling and sliding against walls. That was for the better. She had grabbed Cedrics location from a rather dumb guard, her mentalism skills were not very good, but idiots were not hard to break. Slowly she slipped her way towards his cell. She did her best to ease the emotional pain of the prisoners, hope was a powerful weapon, and even a small amount could make the difference between accepting ones fate and fighting back.

Finally she made it to Cedric's cell, it was completely unguarded, it was as if they just threw him there and forgot about him. All the better for her. She lurked on the ceiling for a moment waiting to make sure nobody was nearby. She heard Cedric speak, though not as he had when she last saw him. It was battered and ragged. His aura was much different than when she last saw him, it was full of pain.

"Repaying a favor." She replied, dropping down from the ceiling.

"Long time no see." She said, unclipping his saber from her belt and extending it to him through the bars.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]
 
Location: Capital City of Nar Haaska
Objective: Pacify Criminal Activity
Allies: [member="Kian Karr"] [member="Joshua Tucker"] @Vaun Mereel

A human male in poor clothing and piercing in both nose and left eye brow was being escorted out of a building that was obviously a Brothel. The Drinking and Entertainment pallor was raided by Jasters troopers recently, Slaves were being escorted to another line up where they would give their name and a sample of blood. In return they received Republic Citizenship and free transport on United Trade Conglomerate Transport to anywhere in the Galaxy or enter a Republic Sponcered Trainning Program with the goal to return to Republic Society. This man however, Jaster followed close behind him as he was being escorted by force by two Republic Soldiers.

Jaster was half way through reading him his Rights, "... You have the right to an attorney and if you do not have one, the date will assign one to your case, please state weather you understand your right or not."

The Punk looking individual continued to struggle with the two troopers then paused to spit on Jasters Faceplate, "Understand that you Republic Pig!"

Still looking at the hooligan they stopped at the speeder to transport him to the make Shift prison at an Ex-Drug Lords Safe house that wasn't so safe. Whipping off the spit from his eye holes, Jaster gripped the back of the hair of the criminal scum and slammed his face into the door frame of the speeder before throwing him him, "Watch your head." Then closing the door. The troopers looked to Jaster frozen, "That sounded like he understood me now." The Troops, knowing Jasters wrath just turned around and got in the speeder and drove off without a word. Jaster thought it was funny.

He radioed to command, "Hutt Lieutenant Connor Flannagain placed under arrest under charges of Prostitution and possession of Class One Narcotics, that is the last of the Hutts Lieutenant in the Capital, continue with Checkpoint Control till we hear of the Hutts Capture, this Planet is now on Lickdown."
 
Location: Around the slave market
Objective Two: Create a slave revolt on Ziugen


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Belizarius who still trying to keep a low profile was walking around the slave markets. He was finding it quite hard with the abuse happening around him but he had to remind himself that these people would be free soon. Even the people leaving would probably be caught when the Republic fleet hits this sector. He wanted to join the Republic and do something to help the greater galaxy and freeing slaves seemed like a damn good start.

He was heading towards one of about 4 security offices. Practically where the guards looked at cameras and rested while on break. He was looking for a weak target since all he really needed access to was one. So he could slice into their security network and then plant enough explosives to make a distraction for when the revolution started. This next one he was approaching was absolutely tiny so the Jedi was hoping that would mean it was the least defended.

When he turned a corner and saw it in the distance, he was excited to see two Gamorreans guarding that door. This was probably the best thing that he could possibly hope for as he looked around to see if any other guards were around, these idiots should be relatively easy to distract.

Belizarius saw a small rock on the ground and used the force to knock the idiot on the left of the entrance, he made it look like it came from the one on the right. It was only a matter of seconds before their snouts were grunting and screaming angrily between them. They started fighting violently and the Jedi just couldn't believe his luck. As they started rolling on the ground away from the entrance the Jedi simply sneaked in.

As he walked into the small building down a hallway, he heard screaming coming from a room at the end. He ran to the room to find a Human mercenary who appeared to be in the middle of hitting a Twi-lek girl who had to be only a teenager. Her green skin covered in bruises, this was obviously not the first time. It was when he saw the slave collar on the girl and a remote in the mercenaries hand that Belizarius understood what was happening.

He then noticed the blaster rifle now pointing right at him.

"Who are you!!!" he shouted at Belizarius. At this point the Jedi had to think what to do, killing the man meant a body that had to be cleaned up and holding him hostage wouldn't work when the other guards would simply find him. A mind trick would be his best bet but he had to be really careful about how he did this.

"I am nobody important" The Jedi said with a waive of is hand, this was make or break. He then heard back the words which made him smile "you are nobody important"

"You will remove the slaves collar, drop your blaster and then go to bed, it's been a long night" the guy looked confused for a second but then the reply came "I will remove the slaves collar, drop my blaster and then go to bed, it's been a long night" the man played with the slave collar and it fell to the floor.

Belizarius was having an extremely lucky time so far, the Twi'lek simply cowered in silence and stared at him. She probably had absolutely no idea what was going on. He didn't have much time so he smiled at her and went to a nearby terminal, sitting down and started tampering with it.

As he was working the Twi-lek got up and grabbed the rifle, pointing it directly to the back of his head. Looks like this wasn't going to be very easy. he raised his hands up to show that he was still unarmed.

"I'm with the Republic, I am trying to free the slaves here" The Twi'lek pushed the rifle deeper into the back of his head "Your going to get us all killed, they will never let us go that easily. You think deactivating a few slave collars is enough?!" Belizarius laughed nervously "I am also trying to sabotage communications, reprogram turrents to attack either each other or the guards and on top of that going to set explosives in this building so when I get the signal it will explode and get the guards attention"

He felt the rifle lowered, he started to turn the chair around and face her. He could probably actually use her while he went about doing his job. "I'm Belizarius, I am a Jedi Knight of the Republic. I won't let anything happen to you but I do need your help" she still looked really unsure, she then spoke again "I'm Varess..." she went silent and he knew that look. She was most likely taken as a slave when she was even younger and her parents were either long gone or dead by now. he saw the scars of burn marks on the back of her neck.

Belizarius smiled at her, she could be a little useful since he needed cover "I need you to keep a lookout, if anything comes up that corridor you tell me" She nodded in agreement and went to watch, she was probably simply used to taking orders at this point.. this made him feel pretty bad about expecting so much from a stranger "Go, seriously I will be fine. Just don't be around here when you start hearing blaster fire"

She looked scared at this point, out of her mind "After what you did to my master, I have nowhere to go. What am I meant to do!?" he had wasted enough time on this already but it obviously was something that had to be resolved "Stick with me, stay close and I will get you to safety after I am finished here" this would probably slow down his work but at this point he had committed himself to this. She sat next to him on the floor with her blaster aimed at the door, ready for anybody coming through.

[member="BD-57"] [member="Thaaros Klopp"] [member="Iona Immarya"]
 
Location: Holding Cells near the slavers market, Ziugen

With: [member="Alyson Halle"]

Relatively Same Area: [member="Belizarius Krusi"], [member="BD-57"], [member="Iona Immarya"]


Silence was all Alyson received by way of reply. It was all Cedric could do to roll his head back and stare at the woman; his eyes glazed over as if he were in some form of trance. His hair had been shaved to the scalp, and he'd lost more than a little bit of weight. The sleeveless tunic he wore was stained with dried blood; his slacks did not fare much better. The scent of death clung to him like some form of carrion curse, though it may have just been the smell of the cell itself.

Blue eyes peered up at the exile. A quiet sigh fell from dried lips. "I was wondering when you were going to show up," Cedric whispered, his voice a dull rasp that shook with pain. It seemed talking required a particular amount of effort from the Jedi Knight; it had been all that he could do to remain alive throughout this whole ordeal. The wounds he'd sustained were acceptable in exchange for his life.

"Where are we?" He asked as he slowly rose to his feet. The force cuffs that bound his wrist together had torn the skin raw, but he retained enough articulation to hold his hands up to the bars. The familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber filled the room as Cedric took his old weapon in hand. Its comforting blue glow brought light to Cedric's features; he looked as if he'd aged five years in his time with the slavers.

Freed from his bonds, Cedric allowed his eyes to drift shut. His mind sailed far from the realm of the material, breaching the waves of the empyrean with relative ease. The cuffs had provided him with constant pain, making it extremely difficult to call upon his connection to the Ashla. With his shackles cast aside, Cedric drank deeply of the ethereal energies, allowing the force's comforting presence to rejuvenate his limbs and ease the agony of his wounds.

It was no medical procedure, but it was enough to get him moving under his own power. The lightsaber hissed as it sliced effortlessly through the bars; Cedric wasted no time in stepping through.

"They have cameras here. They'll know what's happening," Cedric commented as he turned toward his old friend. He offered her a half smile. "I hope you brought friends, or at least a fast ship. I'd like to survive my first rescue," an open palm was held toward the door that separated Cedric's cell from the rest of the compound. With an expression of telekinetic force, the door bent in on itself, then crumpled inward with such force that it was sent flying off the hinges and into the wall behind it.

Cedric stepped out into an utterly empty hall.

"I really thought there was going to be someone on the other side of this," the knight frowned as he turned to his friend. "Suppose that was a waste of theatrics," he offered a slight shrug. A moment of silence followed as Cedric looked to Allyson, eager for whatever sense of direction might get the both of them out of this hell hole the quickest.

"Lead away empress."
 

Norrin Fisck

Guest
N
Location: Ziugen Slave Market
Objective: Cause Trouble

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A swish and sway of the duster followed after the tall man as he walked through the crowd. The hat atop his head and the duster itself clearly set him apart from the rest of the crowd, but then so did the slugthrower he wore on his hip. One was typical, holding a magazine. The other was an eight shooter, holding eight specialized rounds that he'd made himself and imbued with a strong connection to the lightside of the Force. Very painful for the average Joe, but he'll in lead form for the typical Darksider. Just the way he liked it. The more it hurt those pompous karking fools the better. Each one of them deserved the cold taste of lead poisoning.

Between his teeth rested a toothpick. He rolled it back and forth with his tongue, never chewing because it would break the delicate wood and he'd have to get out another one. No sense in burning through them like matches. Most people in the crowd didn't pay him any attention seeing as they were rather busy dealing with buying and selling slaves. A deplorable practice. The Enforcer in him was itching to just start blasting these disgusting cretins into the nether. Would serve them right as far as he was concerned. None if them rightly deserved to be alive considering what they were doing.

The Jedi in him resisted though. It wasn't his place to act as executioner. If he was forced into killing then he was certainly capable of doing so, but he wasn't going to go in guns blazing. Not when there were other methods of accomplishing things. He already knew the Republic had people on the inside and out who were working away on freeing people. What they could use was some kind of hefty diversion. Something that would make it so they could start a revolt without people catching on at first. Give people a chance.

He smirked and walked up to the front of the crowd that was bidding.

"One billion credits for the lot," he called over the din of noise.

The crowd hushed and all eyes turned to the stranger in the hat. Even the auctioneer was left staring at him in bewilderment. All the better for him that he did.

"Surely you can't be serious?" the auctioneer exclaimed.

"I'm always serious," he replied, lifting his head to look him in the eye. "A person is worth considerably more than the paltry numbers being bandied about here. So a billion credits and you let them all go free."

The auctioneer looked him over and snorted.

"You aren't good for it," he said before turning back to continue auctioneering.

In a split second the loud crack of his enforcer pistol was heard, the slug slicing clean through the microphone the auctioneer was wearing, and tearing a nice bloody stripe across the side of his face. The gun remained leveled at the man as everyone scrambled back and guards went for their guns.

"This ain't a debate. My final offer: you or them."

[member="Belizarius Krusi"] [member="Cedric Grayson"] [member="Alyson Halle"] [member="BD-57"] [member="Thaaros Klopp"] [member="Iona Immarya"]
 
Objective B​
With: [member="Cedric Grayson"]​
Nearby: [member="Norrin Fisck"], [member="Iona Immarya"] [member="Belizarius Krusi"] [member="BD-57"]​

Cedric had become a broken man. The torture he had suffered was brutal. She could feel his shattered psyche and shattered body through is presence in the force. They had put force cuffs around his wrists to rip his connection to the force to shreds. They had beaten him, broken him, over and over and over. She felt much worse about leaving him now than she did before. He meekly asked a queston as he took his blade from her hands.

"You are in a slave prison on Ziugen. The remnants of the old Galactic Republic are putting an end to this madness. I came for you and you alone; I apologize for leaving you to the First Order. I had no other choice." She said

As the man ignited his blade his broken features became more and more apparent. Scars, cuts, scrapes, these slavers were awful people. Something had to be done. The blue light emanated throughout the room, his bonds were finally broken. She could feel the force flow into his being, and as if right before her eyes his form healed ever so slightly. He was strong to get through the pain like that.

Cedric mentioned cameras, she had thought as such, they would not leave everything unguarded.

"Good, that gives us an excuse to free the rest of the slaves." She then watched with suprise as he threw the door off its hinges, it was impressive to do that after being cut off from the force for so long.

"There is no such thing as wasted theatrics, it lets them know what they are dealing with." She said.

Almost on cue an alarm started off, and she could hear heavy armored footsteps down the corridor.

"Right on cue. How does a riot sound to you?"
 
Location: Holding Cells near the slavers market, Ziugen

With: [member="Alyson Halle"]

Relatively Same Area: [member="Belizarius Krusi"], [member="BD-57"], [member="Iona Immarya"], [member="Norrin Fisck"]



The lightsaber felt good in his hands. It was a weapon of average make; nothing of particular note set it aside from any other Jedi weapon, but it was special to Cedric. The blade had been the result of his father's personal interest in his training; it remained Cedric sole heirloom of the late Jedi Knight. He examined the familiar weapon with the sort of care one might give to a priceless relic, before replacing it at his belt. The hall was empty down either way, though the sound of booted footfalls indicated that things would not remain that way for long.

"Ziugen? I've never heard of it," Cedric mused as he called upon his connection to the ethereal. His immersion within the empyrean had never wavered during his captivity, though his ability to manifest its power in the material would had been restricted to the highest degree. Expressing that power for the first time in months set every cell in his body ablaze with purpose. The force flowed through him freely; he served as its conduit in every form of the word.

It was cathartic.

"It seems I'm more than a little out of the loop. I'd thought the Republic died with us," he paused, "But if they're here, then we should help them. I'm wounded, but I can still fight." A calloused hand was placed upon Alyson's shoulder, and the smile Cedric gave her was wholly genuine. "Thank you for coming for me Alyson. I thought I was going to waste away here for another year or two before someone came to get me," the knight huffed a quiet laugh as he turned from his friend toward the facility's entrance.

The sound of a gunshot rang out. A similar ping rumbled through the great ocean, like a tidal wave of information that Cedric could easily trace back to its source. It seemed Alyson might have been telling the truth about the Republic's presence after all.

"I-" the blaring alarm klaxons drowned out whatever Cedric had intended to say. One of the side entrances hissed open, revealing a squad of burly humanoids in full black body armor. Each shouldered a rifle half a man's size, and not one of them hesitated to open fire immediately upon the escapee and his rescuer.

It was all Cedric could do to ignite his lightsaber and deflect the steady flurry of bolts. Each shot hammered into his arms with the force of a jackhammer, by the empyrean empowered him.

"Deal with this!" His voice carried well over the sound of the gunfire via the aid of the force. His lips parted to speak further, but the effort of repelling the concentrated stream of blaster fire made it impossible ofr him to speak. He could only hope that Alyson would make use of the moment his action had bought her.
 
Objective B​
With: [member="Cedric Grayson"]​
Nearby: [member="Norrin Fisck"], [member="Iona Immarya"] [member="Belizarius Krusi"] [member=BD-57]​

"I did too, then they came knocking at my door." She said, unclipping her lightsaber from her belt. "Apparently they had been hiding out in Wild Space the whole time." She elaborated

Looks like the time to talk was over. The doors hissed open and guards rushed in, they would sooner have them both die than escape unopposed. Alyson quickly ignited her blade, working to deflect the bolts flying towards her and her comrade. She could not say the same to Cedric, he had to rely on the force to absorb the impact. She willingly threw herself inbetween the assailants and Cedric, helping to block the bolts flying at the escaped prisoner.

His words rang truer than ever, and using a burst of force energy she flung herself at the assailants, and with broad sweeping strokes she cut down one after the other. The first fell by a slice to the chest. She then kicked his squadmate in the chest with a force imbued kick, sending him careening into a wall. The she then did another force empowered dash to the other side of the room, where the other two guards were quickly moving their sights to her, while also attempting to high tail it back out the door.

She rammed into the first one with her shoulder, before doing an underhanded strike onto his buddy with her blade, all in one singular motion. This group was dealt with, but there would be more coming soon. That was for certain.

Alyson used the force to create a telepathic link with Cedric, it would help them communicate over the alarm bells and noise of combat, also prevented unwanted intrusion. It would require minimal effort on his part, she was maintaining the link with her own effort.

Are you alright? We should probably get moving.

She then began to lead him through the halls, Cedric was kept in the high risk wing, there were few slaves here, but as they neared closer and closer to the center, they would reach the slave pits. That was where they could make a real difference.
 
Location: Holding Cells near the slavers market, Ziugen

With: [member="Alyson Halle"]


Relatively Same Area: [member="Belizarius Krusi"], [member="BD-57"], [member="Iona Immarya"], [member="Norrin Fisck"]

Were it not for the group of brutes trying to spray his brains all over the walls, Cedric might have asked more questions about this remnant. His father had never spoken of any survivors breaking for wild space, but then that might have been on purpose. The soldiers that wanted to keep on fighting had either followed under the late master and his compatriots in the north, or moved to the Galactic Alliance in the south. It made sense that fringe elements would have scattered to the far corners of the galaxy in order to regroup.

Such thoughts were interrupted by Alyson's display of acrobatics. Cedric contented himself to watching the explosively violent yet brief fight from a distance. He only approached when the last man fell.

"I'm alive," he muttered vocally. The bridging of minds was not something Cedric had ever been particularly keen of, but he understood its practical applications. Still, he preferred to speak with his words rather than his thoughts whenever possible.

"Where is the 501st? Where are my men?" Thought of his late padawan flashed through his mind, though he quickly cast them aside. "Did they make it out of the battle?Did we win?"

Another door opened, though this one did so according to Cedric's telekinetic will. "I sense life this way."
 

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