Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public Lot #1138 to the Highest Bidder

Kai'el Brat "Guardian of the Light"


TAGS: Rann Thress Rann Thress | OPEN
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In the wake of the Core falling to the Galactic Empire, several high-priced 'assets' found their way to Sleheyron, funneled through shadow ports under falsified manifests and discreet, unspoken arrangements. These days, everything moved through someone else's hands, and most didn't ask where it came from, as long as the credits were clean on the other end.

Braze was here as an escort to a debt recovery agent working under one of the mid-sector syndicates, the kind that operated with just enough polish to pass for legitimate in the right light. Really just a small-time outfit compared to the major cartels, but brutal in their efficiency. The job was supposed to be simple: show up, look dangerous, and make sure the negotiations didn't turn into a body count. Make sure the room behaved itself while credits and contracts exchanged hands behind closed booths. They called it asset arbitration.

He'd been told this was a private arbitration event: high-value debt transfers and reclamations, repossessed freighters, maybe even a stolen ARC-CX executive interface droid.

That was all they told him.

He hadn't expected the venue to be so... silent. The air inside the hall was too warm, too sweet, as if something had tried to cover to mask the scent of rot, but hadn't quite succeeded. Lights glimmered across the marble floor like reflections on still water, and private viewing boxes curved along the chamber's perimeter, each filled with shadows that spoke in hushed tones and distorted static.

He knew something was wrong the moment he stepped onto the auction house floor.Braze leaned against a support column, arms crossed, eyes scanning the floor without seeming to.

Lights flickered dimly through heat-streaked fog, casting long shadows across the stage. The crowd was dressed to blend in, not stand out. It was comprised of a mix of elites, arms dealers, masked bidders, and others who moved in darker economies and partnered with unsavory sorts. Everyone here knew what this was.

Braze didn't.... Not until Lot #1138.
 

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TAGS: Braze Braze
EQUIPMENT: Rann's Lightsabers

It wasn't often Rann traded his ornate clothing for a more simple and forgettable attire, but for what he was doing, where he was going, he couldn't be memorable.

A simple brown jacket over a dark grey shirt, tan pants and brown boots. Something your typical smuggler would wear, he figured. And he made sure to stand in the middle of the crowd. Too many eyes were on the fringes. People were looking where people weren't. Not where they were. That was the thinking at least.

Rann swayed silently, impatiently, shifting his weight back and forth. He had chased rumors all the way from Coruscant. There were too many things unaccounted for, too many things that would never be accounted for. But they could have this back if Rann could succeed. He owed them that. He kept his lightsabers situated inside his robotic right arm. When they scanned him for weapons, they noticed the arm, and didn't look closer, instead confiscating the holdout he 'tried' to hide in his boot. They found something, so they didn't look further. Rann could barely hide his smirk as they waved him through.

So now he stood in the middle of the crowd, silently waiting as the scum of the galaxy bid on contraband.
Lot after lot came up and lot after lot wasn't what he was looking for. With a dejected sigh he was about to turn to leave, certain that he had chased the wrong rumor.

"Lot 1138!" The auctioneer called, and Rann raised his eyes again.

And frowned.



 
Kai'el Brat "Guardian of the Light"


They never said anything about slaves.

Jedi survivors, Force-sensitive children, Political defectors, and even a CEO or two, all stripped of name, rank, and dignity; reduced to nothing more than price-able assets in a bidding war behind durasteel doors.

First up was a shackled, stunned, and dirt-smudged Padawan being dragged to the platform. Their robes were tattered, torn at the seams and stained with travel and time, but the braid remained. A symbol of hope, or maybe defiance. They couldn't have been more than fifteen.

And... well... Braze knew them.

One of the many who had sat through his instruction back on Tython. Eager, bright-eyed and hopeful. Too young to understand how cruel the galaxy would become.

"Don't. Even. Twitch. You so much as look too long at that brat, and I—"

Braze froze staring at the young padawan on the stage being auctioned off like property.

The voice came through the comm in his ear, low and sharp, a warning without heat. Every eye in the crowd might be watching. Every booth might be logging his reaction. All he was supposed to do was stay still, and be silent.

But then the Padawan's eyes found his and widened as their gazes met.

"...Master Braze?"

A sickening, sinking feeling bloomed in the pit of his gut. His mouth went dry. His throat tightened, constricting as his heart skipped a beat and his blood ran cold feeling caught somewhere between sorrow and guilt as those innocent eyes stared back at him, wide with confusion, silently pleading for help.
Eyes that still believed in him. Eyes that hadn't yet realized what he'd done on Coruscant.

"Stand down that's and order. "
 

Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde

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Friendly Units:
Squad Mission Equipment



Tag(s): Rann Thress Rann Thress | Braze Braze


Saram's Equipment




A raid on a blackmarket meeting to secure valuable cargo for a client. Hardly the first time that she or Davaab had done something like this. The Galactic Empire's assault on Coruscant and the deep core at large had resulted in a lot of materiel going 'missing'. One of their clients had expressed interest in securing some of the financial documents that had been looted. Strill was all too happy to oblige, for the right price of course.

A full on assault was unnecessary for a blackmarket meeting like this. Buyers would be discouraged from bringing any significant quantities of both personnel and weapons, and while the organizers more than likely had enough capability to keep the buyers in line, they almost certainly didn't have the capability to stop a surgical strike by eight Mandalorian commandos with air support.

Davaab had inserted a few clicks out, stealth systems of the gunship, their beskar'gam and their droid support preventing detection by all but the most advanced sensors. Sensors which, based on the their own detection suites' output, they did not seem to have. Davaab was holding their position, performing on-site recon to ascertain whether any changes in the plan were necessary. The perimeter defenses were precisely what their gunship's long-range sensor and scanner suite had picked up on approach and what Spar's corvette in The building seemed to have an anti-scan liner, neuranium probably, but unless they were somehow hiding a whole heavy tank company in there Saram was confident in their chances.

"Jetii," sighed Ran over the squad comms. "I still don't shabla like it." The Jedi had been detected on approach. They had no intel regarding their presence, but then again, if they'd tracked the stolen materiel, then it stood to reason the Alliance had as well. Only Jedi shadows weren't known to operate in the numbers that their 'Gar Strill' Force-Detector Array were picking up. Ran had a point, but there was nothing they could do about it now except abort, Slowing their approach once they made contact to perform recon of the building's interior was an ill-advised decision.

"What's the matter, vod? Scared of Jetii, now?" she chided him over the squad comms as she lined up one of the perimeter guards and prepared a comms jamming request order over the 'Manda' to their gunship. Their beskar'gam had comms jamming built-in, but the gunship's jammers were naturally considerably more powerful.

"Shab no, just don't want to have to deal with them if we don't have to," fired back Ran. Saram understood her 2IC's sentiment, but to haran with that. Yes, it was tragic that there were less Jedi in the galaxy between the losses faced against their two enemies, but that was shabla war, and if they needed help they should have paid for it like everyone else.

"Then let's get to work, we're not getting paid by the hour," she said, steadying her aim and her breathing before she squeezed the trigger a moment later. Her anti-material Verpine Shatter rifle coughed in her hands as it spat a guided APFSDS round at the unfortunate guard. She didn't need the round's immense armor-piercing capabilities nor its advanced guidance capabilities for a target like this at this range. She cued the comms jamming and almost instantly, their gunship's powerful hyperwave beacon scrambler and static discharge panels warmed to life, their area of effect being displayed on their HUDs.

Five other targeting solutions showed as having resolved on her HUD, five more targets went down silently as high caliber Verpine Shatter rounds found their mark. "Ran, cover the entrance, we're pushing in." She could see the IFF markers overlaid on her HUD's map moving and saw more firing solutions being generated by Ran's team and the two stealth recon/infantry support as they moved in to clean up the rest of the forces outside.

She, Anila, Rusana and Jaing crossed the distance with preternatural speed, their camouflage suites flickering ever so slightly as they ran. Their droids caught up, slower, almost lazily, though they were programmed to maintain a pace what wouldn't cause flickering in their camouflage suites when they weren't being engaged. "Anila, would you do the honors?" she asked over squad comms as they stacked up on the door.

"Thought you'd never ask," deadpanned back Anila as she went to work affixing thermal well tape and a detpack on the door. Anila's 'ready' signal flashed in her HUD a moment later. The outlines on her HUD representing the fireteam that was with her readied to breach as they all flashed 'ready' signals immediately. Saram sent the detonation code and the door's lock was melted away by the thermal well tape. A moment later she sent the detonation code to the detpack.

Baradium blew big and this time was no exception. NGG-02 Nagnol Gas Grenades and AWCGG-02 Anti-Energy Weapon Countermeasure Gas Grenades rolled into the hall beyond. A pair of sensor spheres were rolled in past the smoke. Davaab took advantage of the confusion, Saram saw firing solutions materialize as the feed from the sensor spheres linked to their HUDs. Like clockwork, she and Davaab dropped the guards from behind the concealment of the slowly dissipating gas. That was when she saw two figures that even if her armor's detection suite didn't have the advanced recognition features that it did.

"Is that..?" started Rusana, her fire wavering for a fraction of a second. At first Saram thought it was because of the two Jedi their armors' detection suite had identified. That was when she realized that Rusana was looking at the auction itself. That's when it hit her, and the large number of force sensitive signatures they'd detected on approach finally made sense. This wasn't just an auction of stolen materiel, this was also a slave auction. The thought made her blood boil. These may have been Jetii and other shabuire who would have told her to usen'ye on a good day, but this was far from, and no one deserved a fate like this.

"Anila, Rusana, get those cages open and get these people out. Jaing, go for our objective. We're going loud, vode. Oya manda!" she snapped off over the squad comms. Targeting solutions for nano missiles appeared on her HUD as she and the others acquired target locks moments before their launchers discharged the lethal guided baradium nano missiles. As one, they dropped their camouflage suites, shields flickering to life as they stepped out of the now dissipating gas cloud cover.

"And where are you going, alor?" asked Jaing, his verpine flechette launcher continuing its ghostly whisper-quiet discharging of cannisters. Anila and Rusana were at the closest cage, cutting through the bars with Anila's plasma caster while Rusana watched for renewed contact.

"I'm going to say hello to some burc'yase of ours," she responded as he made a beeline to Braze Braze . She kept her rifle on a low alert carry. They had a moment or two while security recovered from the initial shock of the attack. "Come a long way from pinching rifles for credits, haven't we?" she called out to Braze Braze as he approached. She glanced over to where Rann Thress Rann Thress was, "What is this, some kind of Jedi joint operation?" If someone had told her that she would be running into Rann Thress, Isley's son, on this operation, she would not have believed it. Then again, there he was. She sure as shab found to hard to believe that he was along on some Jetii operation, let alone that her armor's force detection suite was telling her that he was a Jetii now.
 

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TAGS: Braze Braze | Saram Kote Saram Kote
EQUIPMENT: Rann's Lightsabers

Rann's hand groomed his beard in quiet contemplation and self-soothing at the image of the padawan dragged onto the stage in chains.
He couldn't let anyone see the scowl that he wore. The rumors were true after all....several younglings and padawans had been taken from Coruscant falling the battle, only to end up here. An ignoble step on the paths of their lives, and one Rann would see moved past as soon as possible.

But not yet. He couldn't do anything yet. There was more information he had to glean. See who was in the business of purchasing Padawans and why. A simple rescue had to wait, more was at stake here. But so far it was going according to plan. The scum of the galaxy were auctioning off living beings and none of them were aware of his presence among them.

However, in his singular mind he didn't think to reach out to see who they had running security, he was only focused on the one thing. And it'd come back to bite him.

He studied the face of the padawan, and his hand gripped his chin tighter in anger. He wanted to free the child now, free all of them, and get out of here. But they'd just move to another location. He had to find out everything he could.

So he watched, his heart breaking and filling with fury as the scared padawan looked around. He watched, as the Padawan's eyes filled with recognition.
"...Master Braze?"

Rann followed his eyes, turning around as did a few others. Most didn't care and continued yammering about the price of the padawan, what he could do, what his benefit was.

But Rann listened.

"Master Braze...?" he repeated quietly, staring at the man who seemed to simply be providing security. The look on his face told a story too. They knew each other. Rann looked back at the padawan, then back at this...Braze. What was his plan? Was he undercover here too? Was there a plan? Was this just a job?

He turned his gaze back to the padawan and sighed. The look of fear was too much to bear.

"...Kark." He said quietly, then took a step towards the stage before suddenly stopping, his brow furrowing.
He blinked and gasped out, turning towards the door just as it exploded inward. Rann and everyone else crouched instinctively. A squad of Mandalorians stormed in and began clearing the hall.
"Dammit!" he exclaimed, slamming his fist on the ground. Even though he was about to blow his own plan by saving the younglings early, at least HE would ruin his own plan. Now, it was ruined. And by Mandalorians no less.

At least they were here to help. Or, at least, get the younglings out of here. Rann would ensure they didn't find their way to some Mando slave camp themselves, and activated his mechanical arm's hidden compartment, summoning his lightsabers to his hands and igniting both of them in brilliant violet beams.

He jumped up and cut the binds on the Padawan on stage, "go get the others," he said, handing the padawan one of his lightsabers, "And please don't lose that," he flashed a smile, before turning to face this Master Braze, the Mandalorians, and the guards as they started to rally and attack in all direction at every perceived threat, Rann included.

 
Kai'el Brat "Guardian of the Light"

A slow, heavy breath was drawn, and Braze removed his earpiece, crushing it between his fingers until the metal snapped with a sharp crack. The voice on the other end went silent. He smiled at Saram Kote Saram Kote after a few sudden, rapid blinks that cleared away hesitation.

"Well… aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"
His voice carried a low, almost disbelieving awe filled with the kind of warmth that came from seeing someone who belonged to a whole other lifetime. He gave a quick, rueful shake of his head. "Stealing your gun was… not my finest moment." He said as a faint, self-conscious and sheepish smile tugged at his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Without another word, his hand dropped to his weapon. In one smooth fluid motion, he stepped off the wall and crossed the floor toward the stage, with a sort of unhurried weight. The first guard to move on towards the now freed Padawan didn't get a warning, Braze's saber hissed to life, cutting the man down before his blaster even cleared the holster.

"You were… kind of a legend to me back when I was a kid." He mused with a sort of weight in the admission that came across as more than casual flattery remembering the shadow this particular group of Mandolorians cast over his early years, and the way they stood out in a galaxy that often blurred together.

He glanced toward the chaos around them, then back at her as he took to a defensive stance letting Rann Thress Rann Thress take charge of directing orders to the young would be hopefuls and padawans Taking up a defensive protector's stance to assist in guarding the younglings from danger. "Funny… the more things change, the more they stay the same." He mused aloud as a ghost of a grin started to grace his visage in a look of admiration and relief. "You're still as sharp as I remember. Couldn't have picked a better moment."

His gaze lingered on her for just a heartbeat longer before he turned to deflect a shot meant for one of the Padawans. "Guess I owe you one," he added, his voice dipping low. "You just saved more lives in five minutes than most do in a lifetime."

He put himself between the freed younglings and the storm of blasterfire building across the hall, deflecting shots without looking away from them.
"Stay behind me," he said low, voice calm despite the chaos. A bolt sizzled past and was caught on the return swing and sent screaming back into the shooter's chest.

Saram Kote Saram Kote and her well-oiled war machine of a team just made shutting down a slave auction look like a piece of cake. Another burst of fire flared from the right and came a little too close. Braze shifted his stance, turning his body to shield the young-lings that gathered, taking the heat on the saber's blade before angling them toward the Mandalorian line Saram was cutting through the crowd.

"You're going to make it out of here," he added, guiding the young-ling forward with a firm but steady push towards Rann Thress Rann Thress . He did a tripple take blinked and stared. "Wow... You look like Aron Thress Aron Thress after a mid life crisis!" He smirked looking back to Saram Kote Saram Kote . "Mind if we catch a lift ~? Before you ask... I don't have your gun... I have it to a Tuskan. ( A'Runda A'Runda ) "
 

Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde

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Friendly Units:
Squad Mission Equipment



Tag(s): Rann Thress Rann Thress | Braze Braze


Saram's Equipment




"Well… aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"Well, you know, we aim to please," she said with a half shrug that was difficult but still possible to discern through armor. Saram's attention was on incoming threats, and so the tone with which Braze spoke was entirely lost on her. Saram waved him off when he mentioned stealing her gun "Ran's fault, but he's written the report and filed the requisition form," explaining that the true perpetrator had already made amends. "Not that Rann," she added nodding at Rann Thress Rann Thress .

"Gai'miit'game morut'yc," announced Jaing over squad conms. They weren't actual documents, naturally, but the data storage drives that the documents were stored on. The Trade Federation would be happy, and knowing that they busted a slaver ring, her conscience would be further soothed knowing that they had done the right thing. She certainly wouldn't be losing sleep over the shabuir that they'd put down. Knowing they were working for an organization that in the very least dabbled in slavery only added to the ease she felt.

"You were… kind of a legend to me back when I was a kid." He mused with a sort of weight in the admission that came across as more than casual flattery remembering the shadow this particular group of Mandolorians cast over his early years, and the way they stood out in a galaxy that often blurred together.

Saram had been pre-occupied with putting down the incoming reinforcements with well-placed guided rounds with the ease of breathing that she didn't immediately catch on to the weight of Braze's admission, or the significance of the tone with which it was delivered. "What?" was all her enhanced brain was able to translate into basic and spit out. Saram shifted her gaze unnecessarily to fix the jetii'ika in the middle of her gaze.

"Funny… the more things change, the more they stay the same." He mused aloud as a ghost of a grin started to grace his visage in a look of admiration and relief. "You're still as sharp as I remember. Couldn't have picked a better moment."

She was vaguely aware of Anila and Rusana moving to free the next set of prisoners, weapons up and discharging more guided rounds into targets as she thought of what to say in response. "I'm cheating, we've got cybernetics for that," she laughed, defaulting as her brain recovered from the impact of the unexpected flattery. Her ori'vod's buir's words rang in her mind, 'Fair? They've got the jetii'dral! How much fairer do you want things to be?'

His gaze lingered on her for just a heartbeat longer before he turned to deflect a shot meant for one of the Padawans. "Guess I owe you one," he added, his voice dipping low. "You just saved more lives in five minutes than most do in a lifetime."

"Just at the right place at the right time," she replied quickly. How could she tell him that they hadn't come for the slaves. That they didn't even shabla know about them. Not after what he had said. She just couldn't shabla do that. Saram only at that point had become aware that her shield had taken a few impacts, very light return fire, shooting first usually meant that you didn't get shot back at. The unlucky few who had fired back had found out the hard way why Davaab was one of the best shabla units credits could hire.

Saram swapped magazines with practiced ease and augmented dexterity and coordination. The spent magazine landed in her dump pouch about when Braze had made it back to the staggered broken line her fireteam had taken up. "Almost complete," deadpanned Anila over squad comms as she and Rusana moved on to the next group of cages. Between her rammikad and the Jetii they seemed to have a fair few if not all the prisoners.

"Mind if we catch a lift ~? Before you ask... I don't have your gun... I have it to a Tuskan.

"Not going to make you walk home after this," she laughed as she put another round into a guard whose burst of blaster bolts was caught by her shield. "That's...fine, maybe he'll buy something and the boss'll give me a commission," she added in response to his admission. "We get everyone?" she asked him as she placed a nav marker near the entrance to indicate to her fireteam that they should begin falling back to exfil.
 
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