Love Gods [CIS Dominion of Aikhibba | W-40]

[Paragon of Virtue]

Once the home planet of the Hutt Boss Spadda and various crime lords, the changes that Aikhibba experienced over the last few centuries have turned it into a planet populated predominantly by humans. Two years ago, biological warfare targeting the Y chromosome killed off the majority of the male population, leaving less than 0.0001% survivors. The men who survived were rounded up by authorities before they could escape, and are to this day are kept imprisoned in breeding centers, where they were made to produce children with women deemed as worthy to become mothers.

Initially, all the women who could afford to, left Aikhibba, seeking a better life elsewhere. However, within months of the virus killing most men off, a group calling themselves the Praexium of Matriarchal Soldiers gained control of the only spaceport on the planet, bringing down any incoming or outgoing ships as well as the communications system, effectively quarantining the planet from the rest of the galaxy.

It was only recently that a woman by the name of Janhera managed to escape on an old smuggler's ship, and made her way directly to the Confederacy of Independent Systems to beg for help.

If your character is a human/near human male in appearances, you can expect the non-Praexium women on this planet to chase you merciless. Please keep in mind that the writing must be PG13-appropriate and those who step out of line will be dealt with.

​

The Praexium are located all over the planet, patrolling streets, breaking randomly into houses to look for women who are trying to get off the planet or may be harboring men, in guard towers, and almost anywhere else. These women will shoot perceived invaders on sight, so don't be too shy to bring your big guns out.

Additionally, there is a fortress located just outside of the capital, Aikhibba City, which serves as the Praexium's HQ. Take it down.

The surviving men that are being held as breeders can be found in the Breeding Compound, located several miles north of the capital city. The compound is mostly underground, and is heavily secured. The men inside have not seen the sky since being detained, there are laboratories designed to get the most out of them physically, and although they are prisoners, their rooms are five-star hotel level. However, the vast majority of them are certainly not interested in remaining there. In some private houses, you may be able to find the occasional man either hiding or being held captive against his will.

If you would like to offer assistance to the women on the planet (for example, by offering them a ride off it), explore, or do anything else - go for it! Aikhibba has a lot to offer, so do your own thing, and above all, have fun!

​

​

CIS Tag List

Spoiler

[member="A'Runda"]
[member="Aiden"]
[member="Akabane"]
[member="Alexandrite"]
[member="Alora Fae"]
[member="Alvarex Zambrano"]
[member="Alwine Lechner"]
[member="Amarant deWinter"]
[member="Amaya Cardei"]
[member="Amethyst Atreides"]
[member="Amethyst Sovereign"]
[member="Andi Americus"]
[member="Anya Malvern"]
[member="Arabella Darkhold"]
[member="Archim Calixis"]
[member="Ari Zanareth"]
[member="Arlox"]
[member="Aston Jacobs"]
[member="Aya Clarke"]
[member="Azmodan"]
[member="Betty Americus"]
[member="Billy Americus"]
[member="Braan Kell"]
[member="Bandit Six"]
[member="Caid Centurion"]
[member="Callisa Asran"]
[member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]
[member="Carith Thelcar"]
[member="Chikako Liona"]
[member="Cim Salro"]
[member="Corvus Dravere"]
[member="Daisy Americus"]
[member="Damsy Callat"]
[member="Danger Arceneau"]
[member="Daniel Americus"]
[member="Dalton Kenway"]
[member="Darth Rixas"]
[member="Darth Tacitus"]
[member="Darth Zurvan"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member="Derek Dib"]
[member="Dhakarta"]
[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Drauchir"]
[member="Ella Nova"]
[member="Erin Tenel"]
[member="Fawn Alzi"]
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
[member="Gray Venasir"]
[member="Hadashah Vi'dreya"]
[member="Isarn Apis"]
[member="Ithiel Verd"]
[member="Jade Isara"]
[member="Jamie Pyne"]
[member="Jennifer Blanchard"]
[member="Jorco Czeku"]
[member="Jorge"]
[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Kalee Bladesworn"]
[member="Kaptan Americus"]
[member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]
[member="Kasca Fen"]
[member="Katria Vekarr"]
[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
[member="Kayla Wylen"]
[member="Kilia"]
[member="Kingsley"]
[member="Kip Ridel"]
[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]
[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
[member="Kwelin Orlov"]
[member="Kyber"]
[member="Kyrinov"]
[member="Kyle Naktis"]
[member="Lady Psyona"]
[member="Lefwen Claskier"]
[member="Lirka Ka"]
[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Luna Vega"]
[member="Lyla Quinn"]
[member="Maple Harte"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]
[member="Minerva Vessia"]
[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Natasha Darkstar"]
[member="Nine Lives"]
[member="Osintrium"]
[member="Petra Cavataio"]
[member="Popara the Great"]
[member="Qaarssk Roark"]
[member="Razelle Breuner"]
[member="Roy Americus"]
[member="Rylan Kordel"]
[member="Samantha Jade"]
[member="Sander Europa"]
[member="Scherezade deWinter"]
[member="Shalita Vi'dreya"]
[member="Sola Marr"]
[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
[member="Srina Talon"]
[member="Tex Americus"]
[member="Teyla Ee'everwest"]
[member="Thalira Kiing"]
[member="Tmoxin Temi"]
[member="Traveler"]
[member="Treiades Rhoujen"]
[member="Umai"]
[member="Varick Lechner"]
[member="Veronika Fleischer"]
[member="VildarnTentoria"]
[member="Vyra Silara"]
[member="Xenro"]
[member="Zephyr Carrick"]
[member="Zhai'ellev"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

​

Wearing: Armor | Leather Pants | Honey Boo Prototype Combat Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Hidden Wrist Blades | Knight Obsidian Sword | 4 Glitter Bullets
Location: Dark alley in the capital city
Tags: TBD

Madalena was walking through the streets of Aikhibba, frowning so hard that her forehead threatened to hurt. She had read the data on the planet and what had happened there, but it was one thing to read about it and quite another to… See it. Everywhere she looked were women, whether they were walking down the street, standing behind registries in shops, or sitting on benches. Not a single man was visible, though reports claimed there was the chance that some of them might be held against their will not only in the breeding facility, but in some homes as well.

It was… Barbaric didn't even begin to describe the word. Aikhibba was not a desolate planet, it had not been cut off from the rest of the galaxy's societies until a couple of years ago. While she could understand why they had not let the men get off the planet and spread the virus around the galaxy, she could not understand why they had not reached out. Why was closing the planet down and forcing the men into breeding camps a better option than finding a vaccination or antidote to the problem that plagued them?

Spotting a Praexium member in her uniform, Madalena turned a corner paused in a relatively shaded alley. There were other Confederates that would be joining her, and it was better not to alert local forces that they Confederacy was coming in with blazing guns and weapons, and then… Then they would find the breeding camp. And destroy it.

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Location: Breeding Compound
Theme: Ring of Fire - The Legend, Johnny Cash, R.I.P.
With: AOF-00475 "Serpent Squad"
Wearing: Knight's Obsidian Pathfinder Strike armour, Crushgaunts. Modified Imperial Deathtrooper armour (Serpent Squad) All weapons and armour have been stripped.
Objective: 4, BYOO
Post: 1
Tags: N/A so far.

Damn, damn, damn it. He cursed himself a million times for this happening. He and his team, AOF-00475 had been sent to the planet on reports of a mysterious creature that bore resemblance to a CIS project. They'd broadcasted CIS landing codes and were coming in for a landing, when they landed in a designated hangar bay, they were swarmed by armed females, too many to count, possibly the size of a small army, they were outnumbered and outgunned. He'd reluctantly called a surrender, they were taken prisoner by the females and lead to a land speeder, where they were forced into it and then driven to a compound. Once at the compound they were taken in and ordered into a room.

He had to admit, the room was pretty nice, he hoped his comrades in Serpent Squad were treated to the same rooms and luxuries, he knew they were all taken to eat and work out. It was pretty luxurious for being a prison. Though, it was rather tiring, being treated on a whim. He hated the treatments, he'd been here for over a month, while it was a nice deal at first, it turned sour after the first few weeks. It was nice while it lasted though. He had nice, comfy clothes, though easily accessible in a certain region. He had a cosy bed. He couldn't complain, shouldn't be able to atleast. But he does, it got boring, it was losing the pleasing side to it, he missed his nice home, he missed Mandalore and the Confederacy.

He hoped the Confederacy were mounting a search party or rescue effort, or something. The thing is, a strike team missing for over a month is notable, especially with no indication of radio-silence. And they were signed up for a month or two's leave after the mission they went missing on. He heard the careful, confident steps of a few women approaching, knowing that is was likely treatment time. He made a slight grunt, and got out of his bed, where he'd been resting, and went into the bathroom to try and hide. He turned on the shaver and started trimming his beard, he'd let it grow out a bit, in hopes of repelling the women, but it didn't work, and it still needed a bit of grooming. However, he was rudely interrupted by the sound of his room door opening, and he pretended not to hear, until the bathroom door slid open aswell.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

Objective: Diplomacy with the Aikhibbans
Post: 1
Allies: Hopefully rescuing CIS detainees like [member="Taramaz Laurs"]

​

Tmoxin normally didn’t accompany the Confederacy on its expansion efforts, but the plight of the women of Aikhibba could not be ignored. Sure, almost everyone in the entire galaxy focused on the men and how cruel it was to lock them all up. But faced with a population crisis and extinction, the redhead Dark Jedi would challenge the notion that what the Aikhibbans did was inherently bad and anti-human rights. Wouldn't any other race do the same?

And the Praexium of Matriarchal Soldiers? The name alone was enough to warm the Hapan’s cold, cold heart.

So she traveled in the Sovereign Stingray to make sure the Praexium were not abused these deliberations. Who better to negotiate than one of the founders of the reformed Hapan Heritage Council, a hardline group dedicated to preserving the cultural heritage traditions of her own matriarchal home world?

A strike team had gone missing in the area lead by [member="Taramaz Laurs"], and it was suspected that he was being held somewhere on the planet. Her first meeting was with a woman named Saalia Rato, a cabinet member in the executive branch of the Aikhibban’s government. They walked together in a beautiful bureaucratic building made of Ithorian marble and ended up in a room so exquisitely decorated it was hard to believe their other halves were imprisoned somewhere.

“It seems easy enough to me, Ms. Rato. Just pass a law giving the men their freedom, and I'll lend you some Morpho scientists to help eradicate the virus. And citizenship might be all they need. Why you could even keep the matriarchal structure of your ministry intact. I would be pleased to show you the inner workings of the Hapan monarchy firsthand."

 

[Lirka Ka]

Damn diplomats

That was all that Lirka was thinking as she rather casually lounged in what used to be a far reaching Guard tower of the Praxeium. The idiots had never stood a chance against the handful of Sephi that had assaulted the place: though it was strange to not have any gore with her kills anymore. Lirka let her mind wander, examining her new Klaive and all but ignoring the amount of bodies and limbs that had been left throughout the room. Of course, the ever erratic mind of the martial went back to another concept.

The idiots in this tower was an ample description of this entire planet: a world filled to the brim with seething, young, idiots. Lirka was never keen on matriarchy, or patriarchy, or authority (sometimes) so some ridiculous planet like this just made her shake her head and have the overwhelming desire to simply tear the planet apart. But alas, she had to wait because of those damn diplomats...

But she would wait. Her forces held in reserve to be unleashed when the time was right. Though, this was a new spin on Lirka’s usual antics: half a liberator this time around...that was a new. Couldn’t say she minded it either.

 

[Kyber]

Post: 1
Location: In a Muni above the Praexium HQ with 2 escort ships

You know one of the great things about being a droid/shard is that you do not have a gender but are able to fake one and no one can really tell if you were programmed that way or not. Kyber found it pretty funny that most of the planets males were killed off by a fancy man killer virus and that the planet was now ruled by all females and they made any remaining males on the planet slaves. Now Kyber didn't just come to this planet to laugh at it but instead he came for a special mission of obtaining the man killer virus that he was positive the Praexium created but to help keep the mission a secret he disguised it as a diplomatic mission to free the captured CIS operatives on the planet and attempt peace talks with the female ran planet. As Kyber was waiting for the ship to leave hyperspace and enter the planets atmosphere he tested his modified vocabulator which was edited to make a more female voice.

Kyber was infact unaware that other members of the CIS other than Serpent Squad had came to the planet with some coming to do true diplomatic operations. "Viceroy we have arrived to our location at objective Anx and now are awaiting your orders" announced the ship's helmsman. Kyber stood up from his captains chair and walked up the the communication's officer to order him to hail the Praexium Fortress and commence communication. In his fake female voice the droid spoke, Kyber made sure that who ever was receiving the message would see his face if they have a holoscreen "Greetings This One is Viceroy Kyber of Kalinda here to start a diplomatic relationship between the Confederacy of Independent Systems and with the Rightful rulers of Aikhibba known as Praexium of Matriarchal Soldiers. As This One is sure Those Ones already know one one of the matters the Confederacy will like to speak about with Those Ones is the release of certain Confedracy Operatives. This One will like to remind Those Ones that this is not a request and failure to start diplomacy will result in well something bad" Kyber would then order his forces to prepare the ships weapons and landing teams just in case the situation became hostile and the CIS needed to show some might.

Kyber wouldn't mind killing some of the Praexium as he had hadn't wet his sabers recently and his forces havn't had a true firefight yet but it would be best to take the enemy unprepared and right now was not the time especially since Kyber did not have what he wanted but once he gets it he was going to make sure his troops get a taste of battle but the Praexium or the civilians of Aikhibba didn't need to know about this yet.

 

[Adron Malvern]

Objective: Maneuver through the city​

​

Location: Aikhibba City​

Post: I​

The streets of Aikhibba were flooded with Praexium soldiers, all intently searching for something or someone. These female commandos were diligent if nothing else. The way they systematically searched every house and apartment, combing down the streets and moving in tight, tactful formations. Commendable if nothing else. However now the soldiers were growing closer to the apartment Adron had been using as a type of safe house. The exarch would have preferred to release the might of The Confederate Fleet upon this reversed world, however that would result in the death of thousands of innocent lives. So in the end tactical strikes to the Praexium would be the route taken to ensure this world's peace. Strikes that would be mounted from safehouses such as these.

From the window Adron could see a team of soldiers moving into his apartment, with a deadly intent. Glancing across the apartment Adron's eyes fell on a clock that showed the time. It was still a bit early to reveal their hand, it would be best to handle this quietly. As the sounds of rushing footsteps began to flood into the halls Adron pulled the cowl of his cloak down over his head to conceal his face. The rushing footsteps came to an abrupt stop just as Adron glanced back at his door.

He could sense their anticipation, their eagerness to breach the door. Only one of them had the patience to stay their hand for a few more moments. She was the Commander, she was more sure than the others and significantly more skilled.

Bang! The door caved in under the pressure of the ram used to break it in. The soldiers moved in, filing into the room and encircling Adron with their weapons aimed directly at the man. Man. That was what set their weapons onto him and had him hunted like a dog, their vicious and Neanderthal hunting parties were geared to hunt all the men they could possibly find to be submitted to some grotesque breeding farm. To think these women were killing thousands a year and oppressing millions to ensure their way of life was preserved. The notion caused a small smirk to crest over Adron's features despite the weapons aimed at him.

“By order of the Praexium of Matriarcal Soldiers you are under arrest, off-worlder. You will immediately cease all actions and be taken into custody.” The woman who spoke held all of the confidence that the Exarch had suspected laid within her. Yet, still there was that tone that the woman used, that was the one thing that caused the man the slightest bit of agitation. She presumed to command him.

“Adorable.” Adron muttered, glancing over the squad and mentally taking a count. Six soldiers, barely worth his attention let alone his time.

“Put your hands-” As the Commander spoke her breaths slowly grew short, until finally words were replaced with shallow grasps for air. The other soldiers attention went from Adron to their commander, in a mass of confusion. One by one each of them began to feel the shortness in their lungs, feel the constriction around their throat as air was slowly deprived from them. Some were smart enough to realize that Adron was the source of their pain. Those who did attempted to fire their blasters but not one of them could manage squeeze their triggers. Like the constriction around their throats they were firmly locked through The Force. The Commander finally fell from the lack of air. As the others fell in turn Adron drank from their fear of death.

Their fears were like a cool winter breeze flowing over the man, damn near comforting. He stepped over the Commander as he made his way out of the apartment. He glanced back at the dead group of officers with an almost amused expression. “Well, let's get the day started.”

 

[Zing]

Objective: Release The Men!
Post: 1
Allies: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] and any other Confederate allies


Orion sat alone, on a bench in the downtown area. His black hood was pulled up to cover his face from the deprived women, and he was consistently looking down when any passed by him. His mission was plain and simple, lay low, get in contact with other allies on the ground, and rescue all the men who had been detained. In all honesty, when Orion had been briefed about the mission, he chuckled. The story seemed too far fetched to be true. But after reading through some of the briefings and accounts of people living on the ground, the humorous nature of it evaporated, and it was all business.

Orion was armed with his normal vibrodagger, attached to his boot, two wrist blasters, and his lightsaber. Of course, his mission here was to lay low and not become a target for the Praexium, so, no big battles in the streets. At least, not yet. On top of all of this, Orion was operating under the assumption that the diplomacy would fail, because well....diplomacy never seemed to work out for him. Instead, he would do what was necessary to release the prisoners, including Confederate special forces who had been detained.

As he sat and watched passers by, he felt a very slight vibration in his wrist. He had set a timer for how long to wait before moving to find his other allies on the ground, providing a little bit of time for all the other parts of the plan to begin to fall into place. So, he stood in a non-hurried manner and began to walk the streets, hiding his face from women as he passed, looking for [member="Scherezade deWinter"] and the others.

 

[Kip Ridel]

[SIZE=11pt]Objective: Survive and Escape[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Post: 1[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Tag: 0[/SIZE]

​

​

​

"Just how many prisons have you been in, so far?"​

"How much time do you have?"​

"Since we're sentenced to die here? I've got time."​

"Ah. Well, that's a shame. I don't intend to stay here long."​

"You seem pretty sure of yourself, given the situation. You got somebody coming for you?"​

"There's always somebody waiting. I like to think it's the next prison warden, anxious to add my name to his or her honorary list of guests."​

"You're basing your hope for escape on the fact that there's another person waiting to throw you in prison?"​

"Oh, most definitely. So far, I have a good record of not letting them down."​

[SIZE=11pt]Some time ago...[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The Kalina Halefjord Company's headquarters had an ominously iridescent glow about it on an otherwise gloomy afternoon. Neon screens that decorated the inner and outer walls illuminated the ten-story building in vibrant hues that cut through the ghostly gray of an abandoned former commerce district. Once the central location of an assortment of trades, the Halefjord Company building was recently refitted to serve as a Praexium way-point and military hub in the outskirts. Its primary function was to suppress protesters looking to utilize Halefjord's private airbase to ferry stolen Praexium property off-planet. The luminous billboards remained active as an unnerving reminder of the Praexium's watchful presence while concurrently extolling the latest dental hygiene products from Halefjord's subsidiary, ChompWhite.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=11pt]Under Praexium Constable Malore's watch, operations ran smoothly and tightly. She had served as the regional office for the past several months, shaping the sparsely staffed Halefjord Company - the regional Praexium military unit self-titled to the namesake base of operations - into a proper authority. Elena Malore was a woman of cold efficiency who brought her rigid, structured lifestyle into her work matters. The once loose-knit band of soldiers found themselves tightly bound to hourly reports, half-day patrols, and scheduled personal time allotted to biological functions. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=11pt]The dominating force of Malore stood perfectly poised with militant posture as she gazed at the assortment of screens displayed throughout her sizable office. Through her silky jet hair, styled in a neatly cascade down the right side of her strong-jawed face, Elena's carbonite gaze alternated in regular intervals from various cameras to the regularly scheduled hourly reports. It had been six hours since her personal assistant, Marjorie, had first witnessed her boss standing in her usual spot. And while Elena had clearly demonstrated her robotic discipline, it never failed to both impress and terrify Marjorie.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=11pt]"Madam," Marjorie spoke with discernible quiver to her voice that she couldn't quite shake, "you asked me to return when the sixth hourly report from Bravo team was delivered."[/SIZE]


[SIZE=11pt]Marjorie's thin figure did not retain the same washboard firmness of Elena's. Her form-fitting uniform revealed a wiry figure that stood with an uncertainly noticeable in a collapsed knee and a slight hunch to her shoulders.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"You're slouching. Leave at once and return properly." Came the icy command of Marjorie's superior.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A trembling nod from Marjorie followed, with twists of curly red hair falling in front of her pale, freckled face. She bit her lip and performed an about-face, hastily retreating from the room. She drew in a deep breath, feeling the wind inflate her shoulders and spine. Upon an exhale, the tremble worked its way through her body and paste her pale lips. Dimpled chin lifted, Marjorie half-marched into the room, stood firmly, and spoke with greater confidence.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Madam! You asked me to return when the sixth hourly report from Bravo team was delivered."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Elena turned her entire form to face Marjorie. For a moment, the red-haired woman could feel a chill in her very soul. "Go on," Elena said.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Madam!" Marjorie repeated, "Bravo team has delivered their hourly report."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Very good, Marjorie. A little sloppy on the first entrance. But you've improved considerably over the seven times last week. Do make sure you start getting it right the first time."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Thank you, Madam!" Marjorie uttered. She could feel her spine begin to crumble.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Elena offered her affirming nod. "Please continue."

"Madam! Bravo team has reported no unusual activity this hour. All Praexium property under the care of Halefjord Company is accounted for and secure." Marjorie reported.

Elena made no expression. She simply raised her left arm and summoned a holographic screen to her palm. She wiggled her middle finger and the display switched to a camera view of a room containing several men, sitting and waiting for placement. "And what of the newest asset, acquired earlier this week. Is it adapting well?"

Marjorie drew in a sharp breath. Something Elena had said struck her personally, but she swallowed any subconscious tells and inquired with a professional tone. "Renly, Madam?" She asked, avoiding the quiver in her voice for once.

Elena scanned the room out of the corner of her right eye with an expression that Marjorie interpreted as contempt. "We do not name them, Marjorie. And we do not allow them to name themselves. It is an asset to be used during these critical times. Am I making myself clear?"

Marjorie nodded, "Absolutely."

"Absolutely what?"

"Ah! Absolutely....Madam!" Marjorie replied hastily.

"Good." Elena coldly concluded. "How is our asset acclimating."

Marjorie swallowed again. "The asset appears to be operating within expected parameters, Madam."[/SIZE]

Elena nodded and relocated the screen to her room's exterior window, where just outside, a looped advertisement for ChompWhite had concluded its pitch, CHOMP RIGHT! ChompWhite! For a hair of a moment, Marjorie could almost see a twitch break the icy casing that glazed her superior's face.

"Do you have anything else to add, Marjorie?"

[SIZE=11pt]"Intelligence reports that various parties within the neighboring Confederacy are interested in our politics." Marjorie summarized. "They will be sending envoys soon."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]For what seemed to be the first time in hours, Elena moved from her spot, walking in a slow pace toward the window. "I have gathered some information on various diplomats that I would like to meet with. A number of the Viceroyals would be suitable."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Yes, Madam!" Marjorie repeated, feeling her body starting to give in to the trembles once more.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Please pick the best three who are willing to meet under open conditions. I want no demands from them. I simply wish to talk." The cold Constable spoke.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Marjorie paused. She had reviewed the files of various Viceroyals per Malore's orders. "Would not the Minister of Influence be the most obvious choice?"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"I said three, Marjorie. And do be quick about it." Elena waved Marjorie off.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The red-haired assistant nodded and performed a clumsy about-face, tripping over the toe of her shoe. Her shoulders tensed quickly as she peered back at Elena. Hoping to escape quietly, she tip-toed to the door. But the cold voice of her superior called out to her again.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Marjorie." She said in a way that was firm but still had a hint of taunt.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Y-...yes, Madam?"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Be sure to bring something to scrub the scuff off my floor when you return."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]After a pause, Marjorie squeaked out, "Yes, Madam." And quickly left the r[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]oom.[/SIZE]

-----​

[SIZE=11pt]A shorter time ago...[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Among the almost incalculable data streaming across millions of networks came a verifiable secure communications from the planet Aikhibba directed to Mr. Kip Ridel, Minister of Influence for the CIS. After the usual screenings for subterfuge, the R3-A2 droid forwarded the message on to Kip's datapad, to be accessed when the human had completed his second daily digestive byproduct purge.

When the human emerged from the defecation facilities aboard a luxury cruiser, he promptly ignored the flashing message on the datapad. This particular act irritated the droid. This unit, like many of its kind, had mathematical processing power to dynamically stabilize thrusters in four-dimensional space at speeds faster-than-light. And yet here it was forced to sit idly by, relegated to menial tasks such as commodity outlooks of meat markets in Coruscant in correlation with Tatooine hide trade declines. Child's play.

The greatest insult was to operate as a messenger proxy for a carbon-based organism with sub-par survival genetics, even among others of his own species and a proclivity for putting himself in precisely the exact situations his own biological programming has warned against. The only saving grace was that for all of the biological worthlessness of the carbon-based life-form known as Kip Ridel, his personal network proved to be somewhat of an interest. Well, at least, as a distraction or a hobby for a droid whose brain capacity was, comparatively, the size of a moon.

After a stream of coded audio emissions were uttered and interpreted by the human's inferior input devices, Kip flashed what R3's facial recognition software coded as a "grin", and grabbed his datapad. The human proceeded to carry it to his bed and laid, clothed simply from his midsection down to his ankles, while he reached haphazardly for a piece of fruit.

While Kip's trembling hands signaled to R3 an urgent need to sync-with and stabilize his phalangeal implants, R3 sat, motionless. Kip's face formed into a solid line as he clumsily chewed into the piece of fruit. In the time it would take R3 to calculate the decay of a quarter of the molecules of that piece of fruit, the organism named Kip mused on whether or not he would accept an invitation. It was not the organism's proudest moment.

But decide he did, as he tossed the uneaten remains of a perfectly viable piece of fruit into a trash chute. He strode over to the R3 unit and offered his hands, but the unit shifted to hibernate mode. Frustrated, Kip rapped his trembling hands on the dome of the unit for several minutes.

"Hey! Hurry up and fix these. I have a meeting with a bunch of crazed dictators to get to and I still need to pick out a shirt."

The lights turned off, except for a brief crescent shaped flash of a blue light. A sort of wink. And with a cooing sound, the droid reactivated and began the implant stabilization process. Kip's audio receptors and meta-cognition interpreted the sound as a grin. [/SIZE]

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

​

Location: Aikhibba| Ship: [SIZE=11pt]Scimitar-Class Star Courier[/SIZE] | Tags: [member="Aiden"]​

Objective: Extracting cells of the resistance, victims, and those that wish for a better life. ​

Naedira sat with her arms crossed whilst the Enviable Talent descended via auto-pilot. She was watching coverage of what was taking place on the surface of Aikhibba with careful eyes. They’d been briefed with what little information was available from the woman who had escaped the clutches of what appeared to be a rather twisted society—but it wasn’t really enough to mount a full-on assault.

At least, not without casualties.

“The team that arrived a month ago to investigate were unprepared. They got caught.”, the disdain in her tone would be more than palpable. Failure, to Naedira, was not on option. This misstep was a catastrophe on multiple levels.

It seemed incredibly foolish to her that a small team of men had been sent to spy on a Matriarchal Nightmare that seemed exceedingly hostile toward outsiders. She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, brushing raven lengths from cinnamon-flecked eyes, before she focused on the data before her. There were reports of several teams working a diplomatic angle. There were others that were choosing more immediate gains. Blood spilled, in overwhelming amounts, could be both a motivator and a detriment. “We have been in contact with small pods of resistance groups that are desperate for extraction. Both men and women that have grown weary of their circumstances.”

“Arrangements have been made to secure several spaceports to facilitate our needs. We will send mostly female units of Knights and Dauntless to known headquarters of the so-called insurgents to validate their claims and extract them. The Fortressa will be waiting to ferry them to relocation.”

The dark-haired woman turned in her chair to face the Minister of War plainly. They’d both seen how this civilization reacted to males that looked, even remotely, like they might be compatible. It was a combination of fear, hope, and greed. Fear from the middle to lower class. If they were caught hiding a male the Praexium would send their worst to collect them. Greed…Because Greed was the nature of the beast. They all wanted what they couldn’t sustainably have. And hope…

Hope—because they hadn’t yet given up on their people. It was admirable and foolish.

Naedira would never understand the point of diplomatic overtures in cases where think-tanks and cults existed. There was no reasoning with them, because generally, they lacked all reason. Chocolate eyes swept over the much larger form of the male beside her and her gaze remained silent. Impartial.

“Are you sure you want to be seen here?”

Her stealth ship would sneak past most defenses undetected, but, that was where shelter began and ended. Once he stepped down the ramp [member="Aiden"] would be just as targeted as anyone else. It wasn’t her duty to dissuade him from dangerous situations, but it was her duty, to ensure he passed through the other side unscathed. If he wished to join her she wouldn’t try and stop him. He was a Minister. It was his right.

She just wouldn’t show any mercy to anyone that got in their way.

 

[Lorelai Ventira]

:General Objective:​

Infiltrate Praexium ranks at the Compound, gather intelligence before the initial CIS ‘assault’ team arrives, disrupt operations when possible and aid the imprisoned men and women.​

​

:Current Form & Position:​

Administrator Mina Simco ||| Proliferation Compound, Main Building, Lowest Level, The Morgue.​

​

:Accessories:​

Administration datapad, private commlink.​

​

​

​

“..What happened to this one?” Lorelai peered down at the cold, thickly muscled body on the table in front of her, Mina Simco’s aloof visage reflecting back at her off the polished silver chrome.

“Er…” The diener and pathologist, Resident Aoife Syrn, checked the raised ID code on the bottom of his foot and squinted at her datapad. “Heart attack, ma’am,” she deduced, scrolling through his record and presenting the screen to the Administrator.

‘Mina’ raised an eyebrow, the only sign of reaction as she perused the file. “Thirty-two standard years of age, impeccable genes, perfect health. Fathered… twenty-three children?”

Aoife nodded, hands clasped behind her back. “Tamar was one of our best, I hear. Did his duty without incident. A damn shame he’s gone. I think he pushed the vitamins too hard, in my opinion, and I’m not sure that adrenal rejuvenation serum they added to the regiment last month is really safe--”

Mina closed the file and handed the tablet back, eyes glassy as she stared at her reflection in the table. “Tamar?” she interrupted.

“Yes, ma’am.” Aoife hesitated. Everyone knew the Administrator was all business. “Tamar Lemir... Companion 1122018TN, that was his common name,” she clarified.

“Ah.” The Administrator didn’t seem to be listening. The small square lens at her right eye was flickering with activity. “I want a full, thorough autopsy,” she instructed, voice harsh but distant, “visceral and non-visceral, the notes from his psych evaluations as well, and I need to look at his charts and records prior to The Tainting. Everything we have.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Aoife’s curiosity piqued at Administrator Simco’s sudden out-of-character interest, as there were already women in place to handle things like this, but she didn’t question it or probe further. It wasn’t her place, and she had her work cut out for her already. The Resident fastened the mask over her face and pulled on her gloves. “I’ll have everything forwarded to you as soon as it’s done.”

“This shouldn’t have happened,” Mina muttered as her eye-piece went dark. For the briefest of moments, Aoife thought she saw something flash in Admin Simco’s eyes. Something she’d never seen there before.
Anxiety.
But it was gone too quickly, and the Admin was once again her cool, collected self. Aoife set about gathering her tools. “See it done, I’ll be waiting for those results,” Mina finished, her heels sharp against the morgue floor as she turned and made for the doors. The sheets covering the four other bodies occupying the rest of the tables fluttered ghost-like as she passed them.

“Of course, ma’am.” Aoife watched her go, the mechanical whirring of the doors shutting behind her bringing with them quiet relief. No one ever felt comfortable in Admin Simco’s presence, but there’d been something about her for the past three weeks that made it even worse. She sighed, eyes resting on Tamar’s prone form. Having never seen him alive before, she’d often wondered about the ‘most popular companion’ and all the stories that spread through the Proliferation Compound like fire. And not just those stories, but the ones about him, as a person. How his smile could light up a room, or how he used to watch out for the newer men until they could establish their own worth, sharing tips in the gyms to help those struggling to make a match and keeping the peace in the communes.

She wondered still, over every single body that crossed her tables, thought about their lives and ran through what she knew about them in her mind. A kind of silent, imaginative eulogy, a quiet acknowledgement of their existence. Most of it probably wasn’t true. Stories spun out of control so easily here, grew too big for their truths, but… it was something. Something to put their souls to rest. They deserved so much more than that, but it was all she could give them.
Aoife traced the pattern of circular tattoos on his arms and legs. Injection sites for the ‘vitamin’ cocktails, often black and blue from overuse. You could tell how long a man had been here by how many tattoos he had and how ‘used’ his injection sites looked. Tamar had been one of the first.

She placed a small hand on the cup of his frozen shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, the emotion she lacked on her face overflowing in her voice. “Thank you for your service. Your people are in your debt. Be at peace now.”

Aoife picked up the scalpel and switched on the recording device.


“Beginning general visceral autopsy on Companion 112201--… on Tamar Lemir.”

 

[Aya Clarke]

• Post: 1
• Location: Aikhibba City
• Equipment: Knightly Sword, Armor, and Lightsaber (linked in signature)
• Companion: Ser Cyril Abbey
• Companion equipment: Extra powerful Durasteel armor, Polearm
• Objective: Destroy the Praxeum, free the men, bring war if need be

There was no hiding. A knight was not a spy, an agent, a cloak and dagger in the night. There would be no hiding from the Praxeum, there would be no hiding from the eyes of the Goddess. Faith would prevail, as Cyril would say, for there would be no darkness to cast their future in shadow. Aya, while not nearly the same in religious devotion as her aged companion, couldn't deny his conviction would lift her spirits greatly. His devotion was nearly a light in itself it felt, though thankfully that would not be a literal case today. No, instead it would be the towering man's armored physique that would draw all eyes to them. His massive, holy form towered even above the nobly armored Aya, who strode forth without hesitation.

A knight met their enemies without hesitation. And so they held fear aside, to bring war to the warmonger.

"There will be no peace today, Lady Clarke. I believe these women do not intend to be so forgiving towards us."

There was a twinge of her eyebrows under the helmet covering the woman's head. Lady... she refused to believe so many would have sworn service to one so far from home. Ser Clarke, that would be what she had to stay. For now... forever perhaps. Yet in the same measure, Cyril would not casually ignore the traditions... which lead credence to his belief violence was inevitable. "I fear you are correct, Ser Abbey. May the Goddess smile upon you today my friend."

"And may she guide us home." She knew the old man was smiling under his helm, as he hefted his halbred up onto his shoulder. To war it was.

Their steps echoed loudly, drawing the ire of the Praxeum soldiers that heard. They made approach, their demands of surrender barely registering to the pair. They were drowned out, as she drew her knightly sword free of its sheath. She took up a key stance, the edge of the blade seemingly resting on her arm as she held the weapon in both hands, drawn back towards her rear facing shoulder, while Cyril lifted his mighty halbred polearm up above his head, the bottom without the axe head pointed right at them, left side forward. The women with the 'superior' technology leveled their weapons at them, once more demanding that they put down their weapons and surrender.

"Blessed be the Chosen, the very will of the Goddess, that walk ever in Her light."

Blasterfire erupted in the streets then, as did the cries of the soldiers who dared to combat the pair. One quickly found themselves skewered by Aya, who lunged with practiced swiftness, and withdrew the blade as easily as she had delivered the fatal stroke. For the soldier's credit, their blasterfire had marred her armor, and though yet to deliver a fatal blow she felt the strikes they left against her. She lifted her blade upwards, into a hanging guard, and managed somehow to cover the zone another pair of shots would strike. Pure luck, but thankful luck.

For Cyril's part, he had chosen a different route. The bottom spike of his weapon was brought slamming down onto one woman's head, the sheer force sending her back in pain. Then, he brought the weapon swinging overhead, slamming the axe blade into her stomach. A vicious weapon, a useful weapon. His thicker armor seemed to nearly prevent him from feeling the shots pinging off of it, as he straight up ignored all but that which he struck at. Two down, three to go.

"Blessed be the ones who face the endless darkness, let theirs be a life of boundless Light."

Aya's next concern was the soldier immediately beside her, who drew a knife on her when the blaster failed. She barely could bring herself around to face them, before they had tackled her to the ground. She struggled with her, to keep the knife away from her armor's weakpoints. It was all she could do to keep herself alive...

Cyril on the other hand had little trouble. The first threw a punch, which was met by the blade of his halbred brought readily up from where it had found itself imbedded in the woman. He would twist it around, delivering a killing blow with the spike above before tossing the woman to the ground. The other was met with a steel covered backhand, sending her weapon scattering. She tried to knife him, as her companion struggled with Aya, but found herself suddenly grabbed by the hand, painfully. Bent, twisted, before he spun her around, and seemingly effortlessly snapped her neck.

"For their Faith protects them, always, in Her loving eyes."

The last found their back pierced by the spike above the axe blade of Cyril, before she was unceremoniously kicked aside. He helped his Lady Clarke to her feet, as they stared at the consequences of their pointless violence. "The night will be long my friend... long indeed."

[member="Lorelai Ventira"] :|: [member="Naedira Darcrath"] :|: [member="Kip Ridel"] :|: [member="Orion Trex"] :|: @Kyber :|: @Adron Malvern :|: [member="Lirka Ka"] :|: [member="Tmoxin Temi"] :|: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] :|: [member="Taramaz Laurs"]

 

[Eli Draykon]

Objective: Let's say "Foreign Aid Mission"
Wearing: Black leather jacket with a navy blue v-neck shirt and grey pants with black boots
Theme: TNT

Nar Shaddaa Several Weeks Ago...

"Eli are you sure this is a good idea?" Jerrek asked nervously.

The roguish smuggler swiveled around in his seat as he rolled his eyes at his much more cautious friend. "It's a planet full of women with no men to please them, it's like some higher power gift wrapped your opportunity to finally lose your virginity." He flashed a smile as he raised from his seat and put his arm around Jerrek's shoulder. "Jerry, it's rude to refuse a gift isn't it?"

Jerrek sighed, "Yeah but--"

"But nothing." He interrupted, "Besides, think how disappointed the rest of the guys will be if we back out."

Jerrek brushed away Eli's arm, "That's low, even for you."

That signature cocky smirk crossed his face, "Yeah maybe, but it worked didn't it?" A smile crossed Jerrek's face as he nodded. "That's the spirit!" Eli said excitedly and yelled out to the rest of the crew. "Alright boys, we're back on!"

Some cheering erupted from the next room before Eli closed the door and turned back to Jerrek who was sitting back looking nervous, "What if they don't like me? What I'm the only one they don't...you know?"

"You're gonna have the time of your life, I promise." The smuggler said confidently.

Today...

"Jerry...Jerry...Jerry!" Eli frantically tried to revive his friend, "Jerry wake up dammit! Don't you die on me!" He pleaded through the chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, reusing to quit but giving up hope all the same as the seconds went by like hours. "C'mon Jerry! I can't lose you too!"

Eli finally fell back and scooted against the wall unable to look at his friend's lifeless body. A moment passed before gasp for breath and coughing finally broke Jerrek's dead silence and Eli scooped up his friend. "You're ok, you're ok." He said as he rocked his friend, though even Eli wasn't sure if the reassurance more for Jerrek's benefit or his own. "I've got you."

"I wanna go home Eli." The young man whimpered.

Eli just looked down at Jerrek as the guilt filled him. "I know buddy, I know. Me too."

It was only another moment later that the door opened and two guards followed by one of the administrators walked in. "Companion 11292018FH. You've been requested for reproduction." The administrator said coldly.

Eli looked down at Jerrek and then started to get up. "Please don't leave me here alone." Jerrek pleaded as he grasped at his friend.

Shushing Jerrek, Eli pushed Jerrek's hands away and tried to calm him. "It's alright. I'm alright. I'm a Draykon, it's kinda what we do." His cocky smirk flashed as he stood up and backed away.

"Now 11292013FH." The administrator ordered as Eli turned his back to Jerrek and left with the guards.

"You ladies sure know how to treat a guy." He said sarcastically as he followed along. "So is this one gonna be a group thing or should I give up on that battle?"

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Ms Rato​

​

The woman walked daintily through the compound, her eyes not deviating from the supposed politician(Member=Tmoxin Temi) she was meeting with. She wore a crisp white dress that went all the way down to her feet, her hair was tied up behind her in a ponytail, and she had a faint smile on her face. Her eyes drifted to a few doorways that lead to certain holding areas. Especially the leader of that group of rogues who had arrived months prior, [Member=Taramaz Laurs] was who he identified himself as. She was the one who had the extreme pleasure of treating him, though today it had to be done by another while she had her meeting, it annoyed her slightly. Yet this was why she had taken a sedative this morning. She was one of the most senior members of the executive council, yet she was one of the youngest there, this granted her certain, experience. Experience enough to carry a switchblade wherever she went.

To be frank, she was the reason the group of rogues came to Aikhibba. Something that resembled a CIS science experiment that escaped. She knew enough to stay away from the squad until they had been placed in the compound. Then, she made her treatment trips, it was strange being so close to her supposed enemy like that. Yet she may aswell try and milk this opportunity for all it's worth.

Her thoughts drifted back to her current meeting, she'd barely realised the politician had been talking to her. She didn't hear the starting 'It seems quite easy' She only heard the pass a law part and onwards. It was annoying, third parties trying to dictate what they'd do.

"You see, madame politician, we would have done so years ago, if only it was so simple. We have been researching this disease for centuries, and we have not come up with an answer, nor a cure. So thus, we came up with a solution. We lock the men up. Your scientists could not possibly do anything to alter our current research apart from confuse, destroy, and takes steps back, best case scenario, speed up the research. It is not as simple as you may think, and we would not willingly release a single male into the disease ridden area until a temporary cure, at the very least, is created."

She pressed a button on her commlink, hearing faint cries of help from within, along with something about raiders and attackers. Then another message saying something about a Viceroy threatening to assault the planet. The dots pinged together in her head like a calf to her mother. Her hand eased around her handle of her switchblade slightly, and discreetly.

 

[Adron Malvern]

Objective: Maneuver through the city

Location: Aikhibba City
Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"]
Post: II


The moment Adron took to the streets he headed the faint sound of blaster fire in the distance. His eyes rose beneath his cowl to take in the sight of the street before him. The teams of Praexiun soldiers that had been sweeping the block were now rushing through the crowds, moving out to the source of the distant blaster fire. He was more than sure that was [member="Aya Clarke"] stirring up trouble as she had been tasked to.

“Well, let's begin.” Adron took a small datapad that had been fastened to his waist and tapped a few commands into it. A soft beep erupted and Adron tossed the datapad onto the ground.

There was a loud snap-hiss as a violet hue fell over Adron's cloaked form. The low hum of his lightsaber caught the attention of the surrounding crowd. Even the soldiers that had been rushing past the Sith had halted their advance. The silence was almost pleasing, because to these women the thought of an invasion was unthinkable, but that was what was happening. “Drop your weapon!” One of the soldiers called out, raising her blaster at the man. That low hum that came from his lightsaber roared as it flew through the air. In a single moment Adron had closed the distance between the two, his lightsaber slicing through the woman's chest and killing her immediately.

That sent the the entire area into an uproar. The crowd was set into a frenzied panick as they scrambled away from the Sith. The Praexium soldiers tried to move against that flow but were utterly discombobulated by the mad exodus. The result was the soldiers erupting from the crowd in twos and threes. What they had in superior numbers accounted for nothing in this fray. Adron's blade flew as he cut the soldiers down one by one, none of them so much as managing to let off a shot before his blade descended onto them.

Adron could still feel that feeling, rushing through him and giving him strength. His speed and even his breath felt endless as he drank from the fears of his enemies. However, eventually the crowd would part and Adron would find himself surrounded, being pushed back by the unified blaster fire of the Praexium. His lightsaber rose to meet every shot, firing them back at their source as he could. From under his cowl Adron peaked at the datapad he had dropped onto the ground.

What the hell is taking them so long? He mused, turning his focus back to the blaster fire belting him.

Smack! He felt a deep blow strike his chest causing him to groan at the impact. Were it not for the armor he had been wearing he would certainly be grounded from that last shot. The soldiers of the Praexium continued to push him back, near the steps of the safe house he had been using.

The soldiers may have thought they had pushed the Sith into a corner, and they had but they had not accounted for one thing, backup.

A loud crash echoed through the street. Stray bits of stone and durasteel pelted Adron and the Praexium soldiers that surrounding him. Although the soldiers were stunned and confused Adron held a rather confident grin.

“About time.”

Above Adron there was a gaping hole in the apartment he had been in. Four figures were masked in dust and darkness until in a unified leap, they descended into the street. Four BX- Commando droids slammed into the ground, their crimson optics locked on the Praexium soldiers before them. They had effectively made a barrier between the soldiers and their own master. Without warning the battle droids raised their blaster rifles and fired into the squad of soldiers. The first volley was devastating as nearly half of the soldiers were killed by the ambush.

While the Commando Droids dealt with the last of the soldiers, Adron pulled at his cowl and slid the cloak down off his shoulders. He could feel the effects of Crimson Dread washing over him, allowing him to draw even more strength from battle. It had been a while since he had taken to the battlefield himself, he surely missed it. His hand went to the ear piece that was hidden underneath his raven black hair.

“Confederate Forces, the operation has begun. I will be carving a path through this city. Begin engaging the enemy and cut them down.” He commanded, before looking back up to the Commando Droids. The remaining soldiers were dead and the Command unit was approaching Adron.

“Sir, local hostiles are closing in on our position. Orders?” Adron glanced down the road as he heard the sound of the incoming soldiers. “Kill them.” He said simply.

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Location: Aikhibba
Objective: BYOO
Post: 1

For his part, Aiden was busy reviewing something on a datapad. Well...at least he was trying to review something on a datapad. Aiden had served in positions requiring at least some amount of administrative oversight before, but in a sprawling democratic organization such as the Confederacy it was ridiculous. If he was a different type of person, he might have felt bad for outright ignoring [member="Naedira Darcrath"] for the last half an hour or so.

When the raven-haired woman began speaking, Aiden allowed his silver-green gaze to lift from the datapad in his hands for but a moment. However, he quickly determined that she wasn't saying anything which he was not already aware of. The Minister had been read-in on the plethora of initial actions and operations planned for this particular expansionary move. As was the case with most things, there had been little to no oversight or evaluation prior to putting the operation into place. The result? Spoiler alert: it wasn't success. Now, they would flood the system with CIS assets until they just beat the problem and opposition into submission. It was the extent of the strategic paradigm that seemed to be the standard among the Confederacy for some time. Adjusting that culture would invariably take time.

When Naedira turned in her seat to face him, Aiden locked his jaw momentarily, silently willing the woman not to ask an irritating question.

It didn't work.

Without adjusting his gaze from his present task, Aiden offered Naedira a simple reply. "I'm sure it doesn't matter." Deactivating the datapad, Aiden set it aside before giving the alluring woman near him his full attention. "The second any of our forces engage, the enemy won't really care who is male or not. We will simply be the enemy, an impediment to their way of life." Another reason why these predominantly female extraction teams were a neat idea but probably would enjoy only a marginally greater likelihood of success. There was scarcely a need to pretend to observe local culture and practices when they were here...to obliterate them in the long run.

No sooner had the words left his lips than his datapad alerted him to a new message. Picking up the device, he entered his authorization code and reviewed the message. A snort of derision could be heard just as he locked and set the datapad aside once more. When his bright gaze found Naedira once more, a thin smile threatened to spread across his lips. The surest sign that he was about to poke at Naedira's irritation. It was like spice to him. "Your concern is touching though, sweetheart." His jest was, of course, laced with sarcasm.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

Objective: Diplomacy with the Aikhibbans
Post: 2
Allies: Hopefully rescuing CIS detainees like [member="Taramaz Laurs"]

Tmoxin’s keen brown eyes studied Ms. Rato. As much leeway as she gave to any woman in power, there was something about the Minster that she could not put her finger on. Perhaps it was the slow and deliberate way that the woman spoke, or maybe it was her unsettling beauty. Either way, the Hapan was on her guard while trying to pretend she was perfectly relaxed.

Insouciant under pressure was something Tmoxin had mastered.

“As many times as I’ve wanted to lock a man up for just being alive, I question your laws, Minister Rato. Do you have just cause to keep anyone in prison without charging them with a crime? There are intergalactic laws that take care of these kinds of matters if your courts will not.”

It was a veiled threat, but one she hoped Ms. Rato would take seriously. But then again to appeal to the woman’s more strict version of a matriarchy, Tmoxin would need to make adjustments to her strategy.

“Look, there are some men who are worth sacrificing. You and I know that to be true. But there is a man I’m interested in particular." As though he was nothing more than a bargaining chip, the Hapan brought out a dossier on Taramaz Laurs.

“I’m seeking someone important to the CIS. Do you know this man?”

 

[Lirka Ka]

Engage the enemy and cut them down

It was absolute music to Lirka's ears, though she had already gotten started on all that beautiful carnage; it seems the silence of the Guard tower had gone noticed and the those little Praxeium whelps had come to deal with them. Though as Lirka's klaive was savagely used to slash one of the women in two it become quickly apparent they had failed miserably in that task. As she committed her own slaughter the four Honor Guard had already cleaned up the majority of the commands: one of them, Anje, a lithe looking woman despite the body armor they all wore impaled a Commando on her Glaive. Throwing her aside without a care in the world.

"The command has been issued, move out! If it moves, kill it."

With that Lirka stormed out, entirely unphased by the bodies she had left in her wake: instead she went marching out to the transport the commandos had left for them so she could begin her great escapade to violently kill people she didn't like: but what was new? Sounds about right for a CIS conquest, but she couldn't help but feel almost bored she couldn't unleash the full might of the droids under her command.

Walking to the empty speeder, the 5 Sephi studied the machine briefly before deciding positions and hopping in and zooming off without much of a thought at all: they simply had the target of "find the biggest amount of enemies and kill every last one of them. Though Lirka couldn't lie, it was nice just enjoying the feeling of driving at breakneck speeds with a driver that seemed to know literally no fear. Quite exhilarating.

Of course, the wild aliens didn't know the half of it: some, much larger, guns were being sent there way always an adventure when serving the CIS

 

[Lefwen Claskier]

Objective: Reach the Praexium HQ.
Location: Suburbs of Aikhibba City
Equipment: DH-17 Blaster Pistol, Datapad.

​

​

Lefwen passed the market area with a characteristic quick step, her fingers toying over the holster of her blaster through the lining of her coat pocket. It had been some time since she'd been on a mission that required the precaution of blaster, but any doubts about its use had been removed when she'd caught a glimpse of some of the Praexium enforcers earlier in the day. She doubted she'd last long in a shoot out, but being able turn a situation into a shoot out rather than an execution was some reassurance at least.

She ducked into one of the smaller streets that branched out from the market-square and found a bench to sit on. As she nibbled on the small bread roll she had lifted from a bakery stall, she considered the day so far, and what lay ahead. She had dropped onto the planet on a commercial freighter, smuggled away in the cargo area as she had been on so many occasions before now. Usually, though, she hadn't been accompanied in that container by a military-grade datapad and 'burn-on-receipt' message bearing the code-word she'd be preparing for ever since she'd formally joined the Confederacy. The mission was simple enough, at least in concept: the Praexium of Matriarchal Sisters were the de factor rulers of Aikhibba, and following a plague that wiped out almost the entire male population they had driven the society into a dystopian nightmare, at least for the men. Somewhere on the planet the Praexium had established breeding facilities, designed to contain and 'utilise' the remaining males to maintain the planet's population. Men who weren't contained in those facilities were hunted and either captured or killed. In order to maintain their control over the male population, as with all despotisms the Praexium had placed its faith in databases, wherein they stored the identities of all known surviving males, there whereabouts (if known), and all information on known or suspected conspirators. This was where Lefwen came in. Ultimately, the mission was a heist job - get into the central databank, locate the appropriate computer core and let the datapad she'd been issued do its magic. The 'pad would copy all of the relevant information, and then purge it from the Praexium system. With this snatch-and-burn complete, the Praexium would be utterly unable to continue its hounding of any free men and associates, and the Confederacy would be able to better locate and support the rebel factions on the planet.

Simple, she considered. Once you get past the Praexium guards, into the HQ, past the security grid and into the data centre, and then out again before a bunch of angry harridans descend on you like a flock of azurdactyls on a wounded bog-spitter. She finished the bread roll, swallowing it uncomfortably as her throat dried up. She needed this mission to be a success, no matter the odds - she was undoubtedly still on probation as far as the Confederacy was concerned, and moving up in the CIS was her only route back home. She allowed herself to search out in the area around her, picking up on the emotions of the native women in the area. Nobody else seemed overly anxious, which was a good sign, and after a quick breath of hydron-3 she set off again. Her current goal was to reach the edge of the city, locate the HQ, and then work out how the fripp she was meant to get inside.

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

​

Location: Aikhibba | Ship: [SIZE=11pt]Scimitar-Class Star Courier[/SIZE] | Tags: [member="Aiden"]​

Objective: Extracting cells of the resistance, victims, and those that wish for a better life. ​

Naedira had spent enough time in the presence of the Minister of War that she was entirely used to being overlooked, and or ignored, when it suited. She didn’t take it personally. Every piece of business she conducted was simply duty. Clinical. Part of the mission. It wasn’t under her purview to arrange teams or to detail the objectives they handled. It was only her prerogative to execute them. “It isn’t that simple.”

“You can either be the enemy—or a prisoner of war. We should aim for fewer abductions.”

What lay in the facilities of Aikhibba, for some, was a dream. At least at first. No one truly wanted to be a slave for any reason. Even if it meant saving a population from extinction. Their methods, due to the limited gene pool, were already deteriorating. That was why their organic soldiers were so invaluable. So much so that the Praexium would rather lose their own people just to take one of them alive. “This is a maladaptive organism. It is not their way of life so much as it is a learned failure.”

Even an old mutt could be taught something new with the right incentive. Certainly, Aiden wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. Their actions weren’t necessarily to preserve the existing culture but moreso to protect their own people. Some of the Confederacy was attempting diplomacy but Naedira did not have much faith that it would succeed. Too many branches of their government, including those on high, found this planet abhorrent. Slavery was against every law Naedira could recount from her training. This was the epitome of it. Theft of life.

Her focus on the work at hand caused her to miss the telltale expression that [member="Aiden"] wore. It was a surefire sign that he was going to say something she didn’t like, whether she wanted him to or not, and there was nothing she could do about it. When her eyes returned to him she could already feel her hackles rising. His thin, jesting smile, was infuriating. “Yes. Sweetheart. It is touching.”

“You should be more aware of your own wellbeing. You know that they still haven‘t figure out what sort of virus or plague wiped out the majority of the male populace. They still don’t know how to stop it.”

And neither did the CIS scientists. They hadn’t been able to get any samples off world since their first team failed miserably. This meant that there was a possibility that their troops, even the Minister, or the Exarch in the field—could possibly contract the sickness left by biological warfare. This was the reason Naedira requested that her units contain mostly female soldiers. It was safer and more productive on all fronts. Even if, the amount was marginal.

[member="Adron Malvern"], one of the Exarch’s of the Confederacy, gave the word that his portion of the operation was beginning. Naedira nodded her head and stood up from her seat. That was their cue. She stretched, cat-like, before heading toward the exit. Her weapons were waiting for her.

“We have the first safe house about a mile in.”

Again, more and more information that the Minister likely already knew. Naedira couldn’t help it. Her actions and words would become clear that she was used to leading others into the fray that didn’t have half the experience. Her sword clicked into place on her back whilst her sidearm quickly became sheathed in the holster on her hip. The hydraulics hissed as the central lifter brought down the ramp to allow them to leave.

The Enviable Talent had landed in a fairly uncrowded area but there would be quite the trek to get to their first destination. It would be easier if they weren’t caught. Naedira snorted at the thought. Impossible. [member="Aiden"] was the size of a mountain. They would be spotted soon enough.

It would be a fight.