Lead Paint and Rainbows

[Marcus Itera]

Lead Paint and Rainbows​

Development thread for the GR-E1 Daisy​

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Kuat System, Republic Space​

[member="Lorelei Darke"], [member="Kian Karr"], [member="Vaudin Miir"], [member="Callisto Scarlett"]​

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"Well, this is pretty."

"Ain't it?" The Dreadguard strode through the Gardens of Tralala as if he were a lover of nature rather than a hulking soldier armed to the teeth in full body armor. If there was anything that could stand out even more in a setting such as this, Pappy would've paid money to bet that you couldn't get any worse than this.

"So, we're going through with this plan? I mean, you don't typically see military operations happening in a massive garden. Just realize that these plants we're moving aren't just plants, Marcus."

The commando nodded his head at Miranda's words. "I know, I know. The whole circle of life thing with glitter, sparkles, and rainbows. I just hope these plants don't exactly mind that we're using pollen they produce to be made into a war material. Or do we tell them at all?"

The hardsuit AI didn't reply for a moment, quite possibly pausing to gather her information or pulling up files on the Bafforr trees as they spoke. "Don't take them for granted. Perhaps we can keep most of them in one, large group and pocket the rest on the outer planes of this orchard? That way the sentient ones are kept sentient and we can use the rest."

Pappy nodded once again, glancing at his chrono. "We've gotta figure out how to get them here as well." He almost brought up another issue that came with military logistics before he cut it short, "Let's just wait for the others to get here. Hopefully thing can find this giant, green tin can in the middle of a garden."

"Hush, you big baby. You don't stick out too much. The flowers really accent your eyes."

"Shove it, Miranda."

 

[Quietus]

"These trees, they are not ... normal."

"I suppose that really depends on your definition of normal, does it not?"

"Where I come from, the trees do not think."

"Yes, and look where that got you several millenia ago. Toxic waste Vader."

Silence.

Pheraella Sanzio arched a brow at her reptilian companion, eyeing the beastly body guard with a fair amount of scrutiny. All this talk of thinking trees and pollen grenades and Sith, coming to Kuat no less, it was enough to ruffle the feathers of the young Senator. It didn't quite sit right with the Noghri seated next to her, and it didn't quite sit right with her either, but who was she to question the command of the Sovereign? After all, she'd presented the plan so flawlessly.

"Is it wise," the Noghri spoke up again, "to let a soldier plan the production of these trees?"

"As wise as letting a fox guard a chicken pen."

Silence again. Not like she expected him to know what a fox or a chicken was. Not that it even mattered. It wasn't his place to question.

"That is why they sent for me, and here we are."

Limo speeder slowing to a stop just outside of the Gardens of Tralala -- dreadful name -- Senator Sanzio awaited her Bodyguard to assess the scene before permitting her to exit. She stepped out of the transport, dressed to the tens as always, and turned a slim gaze about the place. For a moment her eyes flickered an acidic shade of green in the bright splash of sunlight, churning into a steely blue before falling hidden behind a pair of shades.

"Our contact will meet us in the Courtyard of Stone," the Noghri spoke once more, "it is not far."

"Lead on, dearest Haset."

[member="Pappy"]

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Vong were squirmy little bastards.

Book dragged the wretch by the scruff of its neck toward the garden. It's arms had been severed and cauterize, leaving behind scorched little stumps that came down to the elbow. The rest had been tossed into a trash compactor back on Anaxes after Book had transferred the prison into his own custody.

Vong were not people, and laws pertaining to prisoners of war did not apply to them. At least, that was how the Dreadguard had decided to view them. This particular Vong whom Stanley had dubbed "Slinky" was half-conscious and pumped full of tranquilizers created to capture wild Nexu. His arms had been torn off because of bad behavior.

The Master Sergeant was not a fan of being called a heretic by Ving filth.

The creature's unintelligible blubbering certainly disturbed the peace of the garden.

"Tear off its legs." Stanley begged.

"It would bleed out."

"It's going to die anyway!"

"We need it alive for the test."

Slinky writhed against the steel ties that kept his legs pressed together. The rusted metal cut into the Vong's flesh, and its blood billowed out over the canyons carved into its legs.

"Pappy. I brought you a present." Book snickered as he tossed the wretch at his comrade's feet. Slinky shrieked in pain; which received a swift kick in the small of its back from Book.

"It isn't housebroken, but it's loud. Good for security I'd think."

"Or genocide." Stanley added as he linked in with Pappy's comm.

"Aye, or genocide."



[member="Pappy"]

[member="Lorelei Darke"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

It took everything in his will to not end the life of the poor, poor being that had paid the price of standing against the Republic. It was battered, bloody, and had almost paid in full his sins with the loss of both arms. Pappy might've joked about him paying an arm and a leg, though the latter had been substituted. Much fouler language would have been offered as well, but Miranda was the only one who stood in his way from wrapping a Crushgaunt around the thing's throat.

"Don't. It's a prisoner of war."

"Yuuzhan Vong never surrender, so he's still an enemy combatant to me."

"Killing him won't change anything. He's going to die of blood loss soon anyways."

Pappy sighed, "True. Might as well make the bastard suffer some."

It was after that brief chat with Miranda that Pappy recognized the shared frequency request from his old pal Book. Bookworm was one of the original Dreadguards and had helped steer him into the program and mold him into what he was today, so the two shared jokes and often each other's company on more than a few occasions. He was the closest thing to family that he had - and Miranda and Stanley had a thing going on, or whatever you called it when AI tried to virtually hump each other. Stanley was into Miranda, Miranda was into her job.

The Staff Sergeant reached forward to catch Book in a bro-hug, clapping an armored gauntlet against his back before quickly withdrawing once his motion sensors picked up another pair of readings. Enhanced vision systems guided his eyes to the visage of a Noghri and his apparent sovereign, who seemed to be dressed as if she were hitting the club in the Golden Age rather than attending something akin to military testing - in a garden.

"I assume you're Senator Hanzio," the Dreadguard offered a smart salute, albeit a bit lax, and offered his hand. "Staff Sergeant Marcus Foster, but the men call me Pappy. He's Book, Master Sergeant Alexander Ontanas." Pappy cocked a thumb in his direction.

"So what've you got for us, ma'am?"

[member="Book"], [member="Lorelei Darke"]

 

[Alan]

Watchful eyes landed upon [member="Pappy"] and [member="Lorelei Darke"]. So peaceful was the garden, and so tranquil was the planet- that it was alien to the Jedi to see such savagery. He had come silently. He had walked silently, without sound or noise. Tracyn watched as the Vong was led out- and his heart, for a moment, dropped.


The former soldier, had seen many things- but Republic soldiers parading a prisoner in such a manner did not give him hope for the future of the Republic.


"Is this the Republic I fight for, now comes to? Chopping off limbs of prisoners and using them for god knows what purpose- though the seclusion of the area peaks my interest. Especially given the beauty of the planet.."


Eyes fell upon Pappy, hard- a fixated gaze that had no intent of violence, but did have intent of discovery of purpose. And intervention, if there was a need.


"I am merely here to watch, and report. Do not mind me."

 

[Placeholder 0133]

"Don't get touchy on me, di'kut."

Book returned the bro hug as was typical of the Dreadguard. The first generation had been composed of serious, battle hard needed warriors. What remained of the second were highly skilled, arrogant, not-giving-kark soldiers who cared a hell of a lot more about each other than their allies. That didn't mean they wouldn't die for the Republic if it was asked of them.

"This one was a HVT from Manaan, or so I'm told. Killed some of the army boys."

Slinky growled a threat in whatever the decrepit language of the Vong was called, and received a crush gaunt bound slap across the face. The Vong warrior did not dare make another sound after that.

"We lost two over Felucia. Thom and Rrusk. They're listed as MIA, but I don't see how they could have lived. Their hyperdrive had a bad meeting with an amphistaff." Book glanced over to the deceased Dreadguard listing. DG-24 and DG-30 were both put down as MIA. He would have to edit that later.

"An AI was recovered from the wreckage. We're still deciphering its memory banks and-helllooooooooo-Miranda." Stanley said.

Book parted his lips to tell the AI to shut his mouth, when the senator made herself known.

The Dreadguard only reported to the Chief of the Senate as per Book's instruction, but that didn't mean her cohorts shouldn't be afforded a similar respect.

Commander Ontanas snapped off a crisp salute to the woman, a bit more effort out into it than Pappy. He loved a good laugh as much as he loved having a reputation of professionalism.

"Ma'am, pleased to make your acquaintance." He greeted, just as a Jedi - hopefully a Jedi anyway - spoke.

"It's a Vong friend. They're just tools for the Sith. It won't be breathing much longer anyway."

For emphasis, he tugged on the back of Slinky's neck. The Vong tumbled backward and roared its outrage.

"So where's the pollen?"

[member="Pappy"] [member="Tracyn"] Ordo [member="Lorelei Darke"]

 

[Quietus]

"Sanzio," the woman afforded [member="Pappy"] a short glance as she corrected him, dark brow arched, dour smile prickling upwards at the rather ... distasteful introductions given the circumstances and tag-alongs. She eyed the vong creature from behind her sunglasses, lip twitching in disdain, disgust, disapproval. It was a rather atrocious situation, to be certain, and one she intended not to comment on.

No, she'd leave that to the burlap-brigade, arriving right in time to snipe the two military men with a dry reminder of humanity.

Sanzio repressed a snort and cleared her throat lightly instead.

"Pappy? Book? ...Preacher?" a wayward glance sent towards [member="Tracyn"], "You may call me Phe. Now that we're all the very best of chums, I would really rather not dicker over the questionable moral compass of the Republic while in the midst of a war. Haset, if you please," she motioned to the Noghri beside her with a slim-wristed wave.

Haset produced from a satchel at his side a glass jar with a metal cap containing a dark black powdery substance. With dexterous clawed fingers he carefully unscrewed the cap, visible for all to see, and gently dumped a small amount of the contents into his own palm. Stepping forward, Haset approached the vong prisoner with a glance at [member="Book"] for any sign of disapproval. If presented with none, he then stooped and waved the powder over the creature.

Sanzio watched in silence, shaded gaze hiding the hint of expectation for the reaction.


((Wasn't sure if I was supposed to have the pollen or if you guys were bringing it. Just flying by the seat of my pants here, I can work with whatever.))

 

[Marcus Itera]

Pappy nearly snickered as the senator's face grew dim with a sour frown and the furrowing of brows. Miranda had already warned him against laying around with his superiors more than once - which happened to be the reason why he was still just a Staff Sergeant and not a Sergeant Major or even an officer. Authority had become a problem as of late, in which Pappy really only took orders from Book or any other Dreadguard in ranks above himself. One simply didn't tell him or any of his brothers what to do when you weren't one of them yourself.

Oh well, it was best that he correct himself lest this reptile carrying a jar get antsy with that blade of his. "Sorry, ma'am. My apologies," you could hear the grin in his voice, "You know what they say about military intelligence; it's an oxymoron." Staff Sergeant Foster gave something akin to a chuckle when the Vong began to squirm at the sight of a Noghri carrying the bane of his existence along with the appearance of one of those space-monks. Pappy didn't like them, the Jedi. They were useful in battle but complained about ethics too much.

"Easy, slick, don't wriggle around too much." The Dreadguard moved to place a boot upon his shoulder, dangerously close to the wounds from which his extremities had been torn.

Miranda had all but ignored Stanley's less than savory introduction. "Stop, he's about to die anyways. At least let him say final rites to Yun-Yammka."

She was right, actually. The armored hulk of a man careened in closer to eye the muttering Yuuzhan Vong. He may have been in serious pain and he may be on the brink of death, but only little fear glinted in his eyes and the muttered words under his breath told of a heaven that nearly gave Pappy chills. "Whatever," he growled, waving to Haset, "Go ahead."

[member="Book"], [member="Tracyn"] [member="Lorelei Darke"]

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Vong were disgusting vermin. Filth unfit for anything other than a very efficient extermination of their entire race. The shapers that worked alongside the Architects were a different story. They were not apart of the Vong hordes. They weren't like the animals.

"Take him." Book agreed with his cohort.

He took a step back to watch the proceedings. His arms folded over his chestplate, and he cocked his head back, watching in unspoken amusement. How would a Vong look when it suffocated?


[member="Lorelei Darke"] [member="Tracyn"] [member="Pappy"]