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

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Ms Rato​

​

The Minister studied the representative ([Member=Tmoxin Temi]) once again, something about her rang familiar to her. She then held her hand up, ordering a moment's pause from the representative, she then held a hand cupped over her comlink, listening to it while blocking the sound from most normal humans, which is what the representative looked to be. She heard cries of help and pain, begging for mercy, then silence, then reports of CIS attacks, and she pressed a button on the commlink, calling a squad of around six guards to her position.

"Representative Temi, we are not locking them in prison, they are treated quite well. We are keeping them safe, and if you insist on calling our facilities prisons, then I shall give you the simple reasoning of having them 'locked up' for their own good, a safety concern above all else, think of it like a witness protection program, we protect victims from the offenders. In this case, the men are the victims, and the offender is the virus that targets and terminates the males. We are protecting them, Representative."

She listened to the representative speak for a moment, then looked at the dossier, reading through it. Then answered, her confident tone wavering a bit, as she realised this woman might know what she was.

"Y-yes, I know that man, I am the one that treats to him, he was my first... I've bonded with him on a more personal basis... I'm not sure I could let him go, you could have those who came with him though. They claim to be part of a squad, Serpent Squad or something. Look like old Imperial Deahtroopers with a bit more colour, others look like operatives in strike armour. They hold no importance to me.. I will order you the release of the--"

She was cut of by a sharp voice of an overseer in the treatment facility coming from her comlink, saying something about the new females sent in to treat Taramaz being found dead on the floor in the bathroom, untouched, as if they had collapsed dear. Their windpipes were crushed, yet there were no traces of sentient interaction, as if some other worldly being had done it. She let out a small gasp, just as the guards arrived and pointed their guns at the representative, one of them giving her orders to drop her weapons and get on her knees with her hands on her head.

​

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: 2
Tags: [Member=Tmoxin Temi]

Just as a message came over the guard's commlink he had picked up, he was pulling on his crushgaunts and pants, aswell as some boots. His muscles rippled under the working out he'd been doing lately, plus that of years past. It was rare for him to not wear any tunic or upper armour of some sort. He had no weapons remaining, apart from the crushgaunts, which the Praexium had been foolish enough to mistake for gloves. They were stored in a locker in a watch room, and he took a keycard from a table and scanned it on a console, then pressed a few buttons, all the doors in the facility opening, letting out his troopers aswell, who made their way to the rendezvous point they had discussed in their limited time together. He grabbed a guard's pistol and slid it into the waistband of his pants and walked out of the guards room, using the force to speed his running to the facility where the representative Temi was being held at gunpoint. He hadn't sensed her or anything, he'd merely seen her on the cams.

It took him barely half a minute to get there, he was that close. He managed to grab two of the guards by their heads, crushing them under the combined strength of him, the force and the crushgaunts, before the other guards noticed him, and opened fire. He dodged most of the shots, a couple hitting him in the shoulder or legs, one even on his right shoulder blade, but due to the guard's weapons not being set to kill, but merely graze or stun due to their intent of capturing Temi, they barely got any response apart from a grunt or flinch from him. He then eased himself up, standing to his full height of 8 ft something.

He then raised his fist, three of the guards grabbing at their throats and gasping for air. They then dropped as his fist closed, dead or very near it, mortally wounded. He then electrocuted the remaining two guards with force lightning. He then approached the Minister and went to grab her throat but was met with a quick slash across his chest with a metal switchblade, then another across his left forearm and right upperarm. He then blocked her next slash by him blocking her forearm with his, then blocked her fist with his other forearm, then blocked another slash with his upperarm driving into her hand. Finally, he grabbed her left forearm, which was holding the switchblade, and twisted it, the knife falling out of her hands and crushed the bone, causing the untrained woman to grab at her arm in pain, tears falling from her face.

He then let go and grabbed her by her throat, constricting air flow, and threw her into the nearby wall, making a decent sized dent which she fell out of, he then walked over, and grabbed her by the back of her neck, dragging her to her feet. He put pressure on a point near her neck which prevented her from moving her arms and marched her forward to the representative, and on the way grabbed the switchblade, and put it in his boot, between the boot and the pant leg. He then gestured for the representative to follow him.

"Knight's Obsidian Executioner and Serpent Squad leader Taramaz Laurs, Viceroy Temi. I believe our reputations will suffice until we are properly introduced, let's move, take what you want. My squad will meet us by the entrance. Unlike me, they are fully armed and armoured, as they were seen as lower priority, they were locked away in a separate area, and their equipment was locked away easier, and not taken elsewhere, like mine. Let's move."

He turned towards the entrance of the building, and started walking.

 

[LT-137]

No One Left Behind.
Objective Three: Secure Planetary Spaceport, Recover Brother-In-Absentia.
Post Count: One
Nearby: Unknown

There was a moment, fleeting as it was, that the Twisuns Praetor believed they had taken their Warship down the wrong path. The Solvognen was supposed to rendezvous with the rest of the Myrmidons in the space controlled by the Sith Empire, to revel in their recent triumphs against that regime's ever-growing list of enemies. Yet, a transmission from an old friend forced his hand. His men, nor himself, could relish in the spoils of their victories, as this old friend was one of their gilded brethren -- and they couldn’t leave him on some insignificant system at the fringes of Confederate space. While they were Mercenaries, whose primary loyalty lay with whoever held onto the deepest pocketbook, the Golden Company was founded on the principles of Brotherhood first. Credits would always be there, shared amongst those who called the Organization their own; but it was the flesh and blood, housed beneath the gilded war-plates that built their dysfunctional family from the ground up.

Without the man, or woman standing next to you on the battlefield - you were nothing but an obstacle to be surmounted.

Thus, when they had intercepted a message from Aikhibba regarding one of their own? There was no question in his mind or hesitation in his voice; Amit Nykoan needed to be saved from whatever terrible fate befell him.

That mindset slowly began to change during their transit, however, as the idle times amidst the tumultuous tides bred uncertainty - a chance for the mind to second guess itself. Well, at least until the mission’s chronometer struck zero, and their warship translated back into realspace with a flicker of pseudomotion. Now, as the command deck surrounding his basalt throne became a buzzing hive of activity; the Thyrsian’s mind filled with nothing but thoughts of salvation and retribution. These people had taken one of his own, and as the man was driven by greed -- he didn’t take kindly to others taking what’s his. They would suffer, as other worlds and species had suffered. It took everything the Sun Guard had to temper his humours, as the anger and rage began to build within his breast.

He needed to keep his cool, as this world was on the outskirts of the Confederacy, and it was likely they were seeking to bring this world into the fold in some manner or another. While the man was sure that his paymasters wouldn’t care if he accidentally stumbled into, and subsequently ruined their diplomatic negotiations -- it would ultimately hurt his organization’s reputation as an almost entirely neutral entity. They didn’t care whose banner they fought under, so long as their credits were good and plentiful. Thus, screwing with the Confederacy before any contract was signed, or even discussed, meant that a potential Client would be turned against the Sun Guard, and mountains of credits would be hereby denied to them. It seemed that he had to make a call and one that held his Brother’s life in the balance. It wouldn’t be easy, but then again, nothing ever was.

Khonsu sat in silence for a few moments more, pursing his dark lips and resting a gilded talon beneath his patrician chin. He wouldn’t ruin a foreign power’s chance for diplomacy, as any fault caused by the arrival of the Sun Guard would be immediately blamed upon them -- forcing the hand of another Stellar Empire to bring yet another world into the fold. While he entertained the idea, it wouldn’t be the most profitable in the long run. Instead, the man elected to comply with whatever demands these people could ask of him; as that would not only allow him safe passage to the surface but the chance to place boots on the ground; who could scour the city for their missing kindred whilst the Praetor himself drew their gaze.

He smiled then; a small knowing flash of polished enamel chips.​

However, that faded soon after the several of his deck officers began reporting that they were being hailed on multiple channels; each of which was demanding that they powered down their weapons and proceeded towards the planet. Wordlessly, Khonsu directed his command crew to follow their instructions to the letter -- and to prepare the Myrmidons for battle.

 

[Malok]

Darth Metus was not amused.

When first the realities of Akihabba’s situation crossed his desk, the Sith nearly scoffed in disbelief. The circumstances sounded like something straight out of a science fiction novel. Or some extremist pamphlet. But as he flipped through the datapad’s report, an expression of utmost disgust seized the totality of his features. As a northern neighbor to their own borders, the Confederacy would of course answer the plight of the planet’s extreme minority. And Darth Metus would add a personal touch to the operation. When the day of black sun arrived, Confederate forces were dispatched across the planet - covertly - in order to achieve their collective goals of liberation.

Yet the Sith Lord had no intention of keeping a low profile. Not in this particular instance. No, what had crossed his desk was so vile. So Depraved. That it warranted his personal and undivided attention. There were a variety of targets to exploit during the operation, but Darth Metus opted to begin where the plight had originated. What gave the matriarchal Soldier organization their power was their monopoly over the heavens. They controlled who landed. They controlled who resided upon the planet. And, just like any kingdom, those with the keys to vital resources called all of the shots. However, wrest these keys out of their grasp and the house of cards comes tumbling down.

The Spaceport was Darth Metus’ target.

Now, while the remnant Mandalorian heritage within the Vicelord wanted nothing more than an explosive, frontal assault on the locale, common sense stayed his hand. To go in, guns blazing, would put an unnecessary risk upon his personnel and the extreme minority that his comrades were devoted to liberating. As such, he would have to approach this situation with a touch of delicacy. And a dash of common sense. And a pinch of creativity. The result? A single Scimitar-class Star Courier sliced through the heavens with its cloak raised and its shields primed to the maximum. It coasted lazily through the azure, before taking an automated course about the Starport’s airspace.

Darth Metus then rose from the captain’s seat and relocated to the cargo hold. It was tempting as all get out to place a single Super Defoliator here. Then, all it would have taken was dropping the sucker out of the hold and watching the problems literally burst into flame. The infrastructure would have remained intact - perfectly so. But alas. Common sense. Therefore, instead, the sole occupants of the hold were the Vicelord and a handful of trinkets from his personal vault. Namely, a talisman of concentration and a few rings to boost his reserves. What he had in mind was completely natural. A freak accident. Something that could be choked up to Mother Nature throwing a hissy fit instead of a Sith Lord going kark that place in particular.

And with talisman in hand, Darth Metus began to do as [member="Petra Cavataio"] had taught him.

He began to chant in his Mother’s tongue. He began to plead with the spirits to bend the very laws of nature to his will. He began to feed the Storm. And from above, the fruits of his labor would become apparent. Clouds, slowly, began to condense and darken. A rumble of thunder would sound in the distance. The matriarchal force would be none the wiser.

Such was their folly.

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Location: Aikhibba
Objective: BYOO
Post: 2

Naedira had a beautiful penchant for over-complicating even the most simple of realities. It was like she was actually a politician, not a weapon. In the end of the day, it mattered little. An armed incursion onto any world was, generally, met with one response. It was met with violence. It did not matter what the status of the culture or society was. The simple fact was armed aggression forced people on the defensive...a defense focused only preserving whatever they knew to be their current way of life. The motivations for preserving said life were altogether irrelevant. If there was a desire to preserve that culture, the campaign would have been approached with much more finesse. At least, Aiden like to think that would have been the case.

In fact the most infuriating thing about Naedira was that even in her postulating, she was usually right.

"As I said, your concern is touching." There was little more to be said, but he was fairly well done suffering Naedira's over-explanations for every single aspect of life. They did not know how to stop the Gulag Virus that wiped out the majority of the galaxy's population either. Yet he had survived one and the same.

The woman's declaration regarding the safe house received no response from Aiden. Standing calmly with his armed clasped behind his back, the Sith Lord followed Naedira...allowing her to assume the role of leader all she wanted. Once they stepped off the central lifter, Aiden allowed his presence to swell and expand over the landscape. Silver-green eyes swept his surroundings quickly, noting tactical points of advantage as well as danger areas. There would be little point to hiding at any rate.

The Confederacy had long since announced its presence on the world.

[member="Naedira Darcrath"]

 

[Lirka Ka]

Was anything ever normal?

The short answer? No, it never was. Now, what sparked such a though to run through Lirka's head this time around? Well, the absolute roar and a shadow of a ship flying overhead was more than enough to spark it, it seemed the little gaggle of Sephi had upset the mean ladies (and as all should know, any mean woman would feel very uncomfortable about her title when compared to Lirka) fierce. For rushing behind the Sephis was an entire gunship, obviously very intent on ripping them apart as it spun in the air to face them.

Lirka didn't have much time to react before the airspeeder violently jeered to the right as the repeating laser cannons of the attacking ship opened fire. Spraying the ground with exploding chunks of earth that caked the vehicle, Lirka had almost lost her footing. Almost. From the driver's seat came a voice, cold as ice as it drove on despite the current conditions:

"Apologies, Tia Cel."

Of course that would be the first thing to come out of the mouth of one of her honor guard.

A bit shaken Lirka turned to face their relentless attacker, despite the breakneck speeds they drove at she moved to a mounted cannon in the back of the speeder. Never worked with one of these before...well, no better time to learn than the present! Shakily grabbing onto it's handles she unloaded her own barrage of laser cannon fire, wildly spraying bolts at the comparatively massive craft to rather pitiful effect: But gods above she was determined anyway!

Roaring out, Lirka simply held down the trigger of the weapon: she had to hit something important one of these times!

 

[Kyber]

Post: 2
Tag: [member="Lirka Ka"] @Aiden @Darth Metus [member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="Taramaz Laurs"] [member="Eli Draykon"] [member="Aya Clarke"] [member="Lorelai Ventira"] [member="Naedira Darcrath"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Adron Malvern"] [member="Orion Trex"] [member="Kip Ridel"] [member="Lefwen Claskier"]

It took a few minutes before Kyber finally got a response from the Praexium HQ and when they did respond Kyber was a bit surprised at what they told him. "Viceroy Kyber we shall allow you to enter with a small escort but as you must know already not all of the executive council of Praexium will be able to speak with you due to the fact Viceroy Temi is already talking with Ms Rato about releasing the Confederate captives... Apologies Viceroy Kyber but can you hold for a moment" It seemed Kyber was not the only Viceroy on the planet and hopefully she wasn't here for the same reason Kyber was but before he could ponder on this any longer the Praexium Fortress sent him another message but the speaker was someone different and in a more demanding voice "Due to current hostilities caused by the Confederacy attacking innocents in our streets you are to surrender immediately Viceroy or we will be forced to take hostile action against you" any chance of peace Kyber thought he had were no gone and thus only one option was left for him to use.

"It saddens This One that That One would dare attempt to arrest This One on false charges but then Organics always make poor decisions. May The Maker show That One mercy" With that the three ships under Kyber's command started firing at the fortress targeting its weapons first while also deploying droids to the ground to capture the area around the fortress and then hopefully end up capturing the fort. Now Kyber realized the amount of Confederate forces on the planet may be a lot more than just another Viceroy and Serpent squad and the only way to check that is to see who has access to Confederate communications.

"Thank That One who decided it would be a good idea to engage our hosts in non friendly ways for now they wish to kill us which is not good. This One would also like to warn Viceroy [member="Tmoxin Temi"] that if she is also unaware of this new revelation and has not been captured or attacked by the Praexium that she may wish to move to a safe place and take Ms Rato hostage for the benefit of the Confederacy Of Independent Systems. Please note that This One is currently Laying Siege to the Praexium Headquarters and if Those Ones wish to help Those Ones may" Now all Kyber had to do is wait till he owns the fort and hope he finds where and how the Man Killer Virus is created.

 

[Zing]

Objective: Take Down The Praexium
Post: 2

Orion made his way down the street and ducked into a dark alley as several Praexium soldiers passed him. There were only three, but all three of them stopped right at the alley, hearing laser fire somewhere nearby. Orion's head peeked up as he heard a commotion, and then turned his gaze back to the guards. He sat behind a large dumpster, waiting to see their reaction.

One guard raised his wrist to his mouth as a voice came across it. "All units! Converge on sector 461! Confederate criminals have begun their attack!"

"Let's move!" The one guard stood in the center said as all three of them turned and began to head into the alley, using it as a shortcut to head towards the commotion.

Orion watched as two made it past him, before stepping out of the shadows, vibro-knife in his hand. He placed a hand on one soldier's shoulder and pulled him against him, putting the knife to his throat. "Apologies, but I can't allow you to go help out your friends."

The other soldiers raised their blasters, aimed towards their trapped friend, who was writhing and struggling to try and escape. "Kill....him!" he coughed out. The soldiers nodded and prepared to fire.

"Boring" Orion scoffed as he slit the soldiers throat and force pushed his body into another. The third opened fire, but he simply avoided the blast and threw his blade directly into the guards neck, killing him as well. The third soldier pushed his fallen comrade off of him and began to stand, but Orion was too quick, grabbing the arm he held his blaster in and disarmed him, before killing the soldier with his own blaster.

Orion force pulled his knife back to him and sheathed it back on his boot. As he turned to head towards the commotion, he heard footsteps. He slowly turned to see a whole host of guards with blasters pointed at him, standing at the entrance to the alley. Orion rolled his eyes and pulled his lightsaber off his belt. "And here I thought today was just gonna be another boring day" he said, activating his lightsaber.

@Kyber @Lirka Ka @Aiden @Darth Metus [member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="Taramaz Laurs"]

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

Objective: Diplomacy with the Aikhibbans (and failing miserably)
Post: 3
Allies: Assisting [member="Taramaz Laurs"] in his escape

“I think otherwise Minister Rato. I believe you are protecting them from your own citizens? And doesn’t that speak to the incivility rampant across Aikhibba?”

Sighing and tapping her index finger on her chin, she continued, “In my experience women can be cruel, if not crueler and more quietly violent than men. Males do not have the monopoly on evil, they just express it in a more outward way. At the end of the day we are all equal.”

It felt strange to say that as a Hapan, but she realized just how far she’d come ideologically away from her home planet. Or perhaps the influence of wise men like Derek Dib had finally gotten to her.

And apparently Mr. Laurs had “gotten to” Ms. Rato. Both emotionally and physically as Tmoxin watched in horror as the strike team leader tussled with the Minister and then bashed her up against a wall, dragging her away.

Walking now at a clipped pace with Mr Laurs, Tmoxin said in a firm, yet measured voice: “Now was all of that violence necessary?” She stopped for a minute, cognizant that the man might have been through a barbaric type of treatment that would leave anyone with psychological problems for years to come. In a softer tone, she asked, “What did Ms. Rato do to you anyway?”

 

[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 come to the conclusion, long ago, that there was very little she could say that the mysterious silver-eyed man at her side didn’t blow off like smoke in the wind. Her eyes rolled heavenward when he claimed that her concern was touching. The lack of concern he had for his own well-being was staggering. Men. No wonder the Praexium was rounding them up like cattle and selectively choosing traits worthy of reproduction.

With her sword on her back, her sidearm ready, and a decent walk ahead of them Naedira didn’t bother wasting any more time. She could feel a storm coming in her bones. Naedira could feel a surge, a presence that stirred in the Force but she could not attribute it to [member="Darth Metus"]. She had met the man rather infrequently, but, she was well-versed enough to know that the maelstrom brewing toward the south wasn’t natural.

Her footsteps increased in pace while she kept her head on a swivel. [member="Aiden"] would do as he wished, she knew, but Naedira had a job to complete. Everyone had their own tasks, their own objective, and she intended to complete what she had been assigned. The pair of Sith and the small squad of cloned Dauntless Commandos got about three-quarters of the way to the safe house before a unit of heavily armored and armed females pulled out of the furthest side street. They blocked the way from the bridge. Naedira internally sighed.

Every moment wasted caused the extraction window to shrink.

“Turn over the male, Sister, and surrender your weapons.”

The dark-haired woman didn’t stop moving forward.

“This is your final warning! Give him to us and you may leave with your life!”

Chocolate eyes counted about a dozen of the Praexium warriors. Uneven odds. They began to form a defensive line, with those holding blasters up front, and Naedira could feel adrenaline begin to move in her veins. The words that left her lips were swift and decisive. She couldn’t imagine that Aiden would allow himself to be taken by such boorish creatures, however, the need to make herself clear remained. She was not their sister. Not their friend. She would never condone this—and she would keep her life by her own terms. “I will not turn him over and I am not your sister.”

The few women in front began to fire and she raised her off-hand. When the bolts made contact, her teeth ground together, as she felt the burn through her glove. Eventually, her focus evened out but it still felt like she'd stuck her hand in a bonfire. Once regulated the young woman began to absorb the bolts that flashed across the bridge with lightening precision. Their opponents were trained, clearly, but not entirely for the likes of what the Confederacy brought to their door. When her reserves felt full and typically brown eyes began to burn a mottled burnished orange she reversed it. Instead of taking energy in she began to push it away, deflecting bolts, back toward those that had shot in the first place.

The unstable bits of energy she threw back fired true, injuring the original shooters, and the darkness in her core swelled. Empowered. She had no patience for this. Her right hand reached up and behind her neck, pulling a long sword free, before a flick of her wrist snapped it into something new. The electro-chain whip exhibited a crimson plasma current running through it at the joints and it would take her less than a second to snap it forward. She found her mark, the tail of it striking the hands of one of the native females in order to knock away the blaster. Her whip came around again, faster than the eye could follow, and wrapped around the neck of one the same female. Chaos was descending as everyone began to move, shifting into place, as the Dauntless Commando’s began to draw fire.

The Knight Obsidian pulled in her enemy with her whip, using her as a shield, before she drew her off hand up and placed it over her face. The energy she had absorbed from the blaster fire was redistributed at point blank range. Heat, so much blistering heat, and the woman screamed until she went limp in her ensnared state. Satisfied that her chest rose and fell no more, Naedira unhooked her chain-whip, and let the unfortunate soul drop like a sack of rocks.

These women were obstacles. Foolish, obstacles. If they wanted to live—they could run. If they intended to keep impeding the mission? They could die. Naedira did not feel for them as some might. They had chosen their stance, chosen their battle, their war, and seemed prepared to give their lives for it.

She would facilitate that as needed.

 

[Adron Malvern]

Objective: Maneuver through the city​

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


For Adron the battle in the city was on even terms. In normal times The Confederacy would merely launch it's endless legions against the threat to gradually grind it into nothing. Adron and his escort had managed to get corners down a rather open street. They had been sticking to the more narrow back roads to minimize the Praexiums ability to use their numbers, however they had underestimated the number of soldiers they truly had. The Commando droids had been tasked with securing their rear flank while Adron took to the front, slowly pushing the enemy back.

His lightsaber seemed to almost sing a song as it flew through the air, carving into the closest of the soldiers and leaving her split in half. He had pushed through another team of the soldiers yet they still held their ground. These soldiers were resilient if nothing else, but to see them stand up to the Sith Lord had gone past impressive, it was confusing. They no longer had him on a back foot yet they had barely given up any ground.

This meant one of two things. Either they were protecting a crucial strategic point or…

Before Adron's thoughts could be completed his eyes came open wide as a seemingly endless stream of blaster fire seemed to loom over him. His arms flew up to protect his chest, immediately a blue glow fell over his body. The blaster fire slammed into the Molecular shield that Adron had built into his arms, however he knew they would not last for long. When he looked up he could see the speeder augmented with a blaster turret.

“Innovative if nothing else.” He sneered, before the blaster fire came to an abrupt end.

Overheated.

Adron broke the shields protecting him, taking a step forward while throwing his palm towards the speeder. The Praexium soldiers had likely intended to cover the speeder while it was cooling down, but they had underestimated The Force. A deadly mistake.

Adron's right hand absorbed the blaster fire that rained down him. Unlike the molecular shields the blaster bolts did not assimilate into the shield, instead they were completely disintegrated in his hand. With his other hand the speeder would slowly begin to collapse into itself. The loud screeching of metal screamed through the street along with the voices of those trapped inside. Once he closed his hand the speeder's fuel tanks must have leaked into the engine, because a deafening explosion echoed down the street. As smoke filled the air Adron could not help but smirk at his own power. He had grown since joining the Confederacy. In more than a few ways.

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Location: Aikhibba
Objective: BYOO
Post: 3

Aiden's lack of concern over the situation transpiring on this planet did not quite go so far as to be a complete disregard for his own safety, his own life. In fact, Aiden rather enjoyed living and executing that which brought him pleasure. He'd been through more life-threatening and dire situations in his childhood than what he regarded to be happening here. Yes, there were a great many unknowns, and he would never take an enemy for granted. However, he would, similarly, never allow apprehension to sneak into his resolve prior to any combat scenario. That quite simply was not him.

Matching Naedira's pace with relative ease given his larger size, the Sith Lord allowed his silver-green gaze to constantly roam his surroundings. That was until...something tickled at the back of his neck. Suddenly, there was a flare of warning as the Sith Lord saw visions of errant blaster bolts racing towards their location.

Yet...the hilt of Aiden's lightsaber remained where it was, attached to the belt of his pants. Folding his arms over his exposed upper torso, Aiden patiently waited and watched the exchange. There was always too much discussion in combat these days. There was always some sort of demand. Why not simply obliterate one's enemy and then take what you wanted. This predilection for extending some sort of amnesty grated on the Sith Lord's nerves. Greatly.

However, it was Naedira's response to the yelling that drew his attention. Glancing at the woman out the corner of his eye, Aiden just barely managed to keep a mischievous glint from taking over his face. Just as Naedira was about to finish her statement, Aiden felt another warning flash across his mind. His hand started to move towards the hilt of his lightsaber when a follow-up image revealed what Naedira was prepared to do. Rather than directly join the fight, Aiden elected to simply erect an invisible barrier of force energy around himself while he watched the Knight set about her task.

Allowing a single hand to rest easily on his heavily bearded chin, the Sith Lord smiled broadly as she watched the woman. It was like a dance, an art form. This was what he had been waiting to see in the woman. His suspicions finally confirmed, he added a brief mental rub that he was positive would enrage her further. And you leap to my defense? Be still my beating heart, Nae-Bae.

Aiden's mission was clearly just about already accomplished.

[member="Naedira Darcrath"]

 

[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

Everything was weird. People of the Confederacy were more spread out than they usually were, and Madalena found herself still standing alone in the dark alley. It didn't matter, she supposed. She was a walking armory and she could use the state of the battlefield to her advantage. The goal had not disappeared from her vision; get into the facility, release the men. There were more than enough other people who were there to kill Praexium members.

She would give them two more minutes. And then she would leave the dark alley and resume her mission.

 

[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

Violence was... odd for the woman. Aya felt little, and the bloodshed only seemed a passing memory as she walked the streets, pushing forward on, and on. Between herself and Cyril, a path of death was being carved, unfortunately, into the very ground they walked. They refused to surrender, to give up. It was, admirable, but disheartening all the same. Body after body thrown pointlessly to a premature end, by halbred or sword. It was heartbreaking, even though there was satisfaction in knowing she was more than skilled enough to survive the modern weaponry with her traditional weapons.

"May you find rest within the arms of the Goddess, my enemy."

Aya glanced over finally at Cyril, drawn back to reality as he closed the eyes of one of the soldiers. Had, had he been doing this all along? She glanced to the others that had been killed somewhere along the line, all eyes shut. "... Cyril..." She felt something caught in her throat as the older man glanced up at her, whatever emotions he felt hidden behind his helm.

"... I entrust the distraction to you, friend. I will attempt to free the men held captive. Stay safe..."

The armored behemoth stood, planting his weapon's bottom spike into the ground, bowing his head and bringing his clenched left fist to his weapon arm's shoulder. "Good fortune, My Lady." And with that, the priest seemed to vanish almost, moving carefully so not to be unsafe in what he forced himself into. Cyril would be fine, he was experienced, he was capable. Better fighters than these had failed to kill him...

She swallowed and moved into the alleyways, somehow managing to be quiet as she went. She.. she hadn't been respectful. She hadn't taken care of those she felled. Yes, battle wasn't always going to give her that chance but, these people were neither villainous soldiers, nor were so numerous to be beyond simple capabilities to be shown respect. And here she was, feeling... feeling...

Satisfaction?

Anger?

Numbness?

She was caught in her thoughts, almost so deeply she barely realized she'd found Madalena in her alley. She did recognize her as CIS, fortunately, and preformed the same gesture that Cyril had. "Sorry I'm late."

[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"]

 

[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 did not turn to see what [member="Aiden"] had decided to do with his time. Her focus narrowed, a form of tunnel vision, however, it gave her singular purpose. She could feel many eyes on her person but turning to address each set would have been a mistake. Instead, she silently gauged the intent. Were they retreating, did fear eat at their hearts, were they feeling the need to retaliate? Were they moving? Lunging? Reloading power cells?

Every action breathed through the Force like a delicate hum that formed a pattern she seemed designed to follow. It was almost as if she had a map, or a guide, letting her dodge or strike in exactly the right moment. Naedira, akin to those who had trained her, and very similar to Exarch Talon, had a fondness for close combat. Her main differences revolved in the fact that she could adequately handle ranged as well. Beyond that, the reasoning was different.

She liked to know that her enemy was down for the count. Naedira appreciated the finality of knowing that those she bested would not get back up to plunge a dagger in her back. It was ruthless, pitiless, but exceedingly effective.

The raven-haired Knight used her chain-whip to keep her attackers on their toes and to draw them in one by one. She was light on her feet, agile, and there was no small amount of strength utilized to rend apart the larger females of the Praexium. A wayward thought caressed the edges of her mind as her chain-whip linked back together to form a sword once more. She used it to block the vibroblades that came careening down toward her, before she telekinetically shoved the woman backward, regaining ground.

Briefly, she spared a glance at the Minister. So Force-be-damned smug. ‘Keep dreaming [member="Aiden"]. You could help, you know.’

The nickname of “Nae-Bae” was quite possibly cause for a brain bleed. The next time she swung her sword it was particularly vicious due to a sense of vague irritation. From the very first moment, she had met the silver-green eyed mountain of a man, Aiden, had presented himself as a box full of secrets. He was an enigma, that seemed to loathe when she spoke, but in the same turn seemed to want nothing more.

What man taunted a woman so relentlessly and didn’t want to get yelled at?

Naedira drew back after breaking the guard of one of the warriors and drove her sword straight ahead. It pierced through light armor, the Obsidian Knight growled from exertion, before the air rippled and she threw herself forward. The momentum carried on, since she hadn’t let go of the weapon, and drove her opponent to the ground. Her back hit permacrete and the weapon went deeper, piercing smoothly alongside the sternum, before she drew her blade back with a sluggish snap. The end was sharp, in a way, but it was akin to driving a pike through thick clay. The injury was almost cone-like. The unfortunate creature wailed with the air she had left, however, sucking chest wounds with a punctured lung didn’t leave much.

It ended quickly. As brutal as Naedira could be there was no need within her to draw out the suffering. They were adversaries on an impromptu battleground… But the Knight wasn’t an animal. She didn’t crave blood, or a fight, it was simply the only language some people understood.

At any rate…The animals were the ones keeping men in chains simply because they were unfortunate enough not to die accordingly with the rest.

The olive-skinned Sith came to her feet with a certain surety that bespoke practice. Aiden had comfortably remained behind, thus far, while the Dauntless advanced. Those she had not dealt with, they tagged, or, brought down. Others still looked like they might flee. The black-swathed woman was dotted with the blood of their sisters and didn’t seem to be bothered. Or winded.

Naedira snapped her wrist again and the sword broke apart and the crimson electro-plasma current burned away the blood that stained the articulated segments. Her eyes burned behind her mask. So bright, so full of corruption, that it could almost be seen through the hexagonal pattern that dotted the covering.

One of the remaining women charged her. Vibroblade raised, with a battle cry, Naedira couldn’t help but wonder what they were thinking. She dug her heels in and braced for impact and caught the end of her whip by the metallic plating so she could hold it taut like a rope. She used it to parry the weapon and it halted, screeching along the filaments, almost, too close to her face. The crimson current snapped and flared while they struggled and for a moment it seemed like Naedira might be overwhelmed.

She moved, stepping to the side, so that woman fell forward due to the lack of resistance and her chain-whip looped fully around the weapon. Nae took the small amount of surprise and moved behind her to pull both halves the whip backward. Effectively, she pulled the vibroblade back toward her opponents face. The wind blew harder and the dark clouds seemed to stretch like angry fingers across the sky. It would rain, soon, and Naedira would rather this fight end before that happened.

Teeth grinding together she let go of the woman and snapped her whip around whilst the warrior stumbled. The plasma caught the Praexium member alongside her face and Nae pulled backward, raking it across exposed skin, before her free hand moved to her waist. With her sidearm free, ready, and fully loaded she pulled the trigger at point-blank range. She didn't look to see the damage and instead turned back toward the remaining figures... "Dauntless...Clean this mess up. We have somewhere to be and I don't like to be late."

 

[Adron Malvern]

Objective: Defend this position, create a distraction

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



Adron was more than sure there was a small book worth of proverbs on his current situation. Most of which would likely end with death or at least grievous injury. Even though the Exarch had only a small team of Commando droids, he continued his assault into the very heart of Aikhibba City. The Praexium had come down on him with a mighty fist and forced him to halt his advance. To say he had been put on the back foot would be a bit of an understatement. He stood in the center of a large courtyard district, attempting to take cover from the array of blaster fire that rained down on him. He had deactivated his lightsaber for a moment, trying to figure out how he was going to survive. Four of the Commando Droids remained and they had been excelling in their own objective to keep Adron alive, however there was only so much they could do.

They sat behind an overturned speeder, two of the droids firing back on the mass of enemy positions while the command unit was performing minor repairs to a droid that had taken a well-placed blaster round to his left knee. Even in the fog of war Adron found the aspect of droids performing "first aid," to be ridiculous. However, given his current situation he was not exactly in the position to lose one of his escorts.

"Well I guess we won't get out of this mess by sitting here." A snap-hiss erupted as his amethyst blade sprang from it's emitter once again. He stood up from his cover and moved out into the open, immediately bringing the slew of blaster fire down onto himself. His left arm rose and a soft click erupted before once again a molecular shield sprang from his gauntlet. This one being only a single shield it was not as large or as powerful as before, however it was helping to absorb a bit of the blaster fire. His lightsaber flew through the air to reject whatever bolts passed his shield, but still he could feel the hard impacts of bolts slamming against Crimson Dread. He was starting to feel that pain in the back of his mind, the emptiness in the pit of his gut. He wasn't quite used to the effects of his Sith Armor and it was beginning to show. They had been on the defensive for too long, the dark alchemy that sustained his suit was growing impatient, it demanded death.

Trying to ignore these pains, Adron's eyes were on a single squad of Praexium soldiers who had been attempting to rush the Sith.

Trying to end things early? He mused, before rushing forward. The soldiers had been in a nice tight line which only made cutting them down that much easier. As his blade flew through the air to decapitate the squad leader, his left arm rushed forward, a kinetic wave of the Force exploding out towards the others. What remained of the squad was flung off their feet and slammed into the hard ground. As the Sith Lord descended upon them he could feel his armor's effects slowly wearing off.

That's better. He thought as he moved to cut down another of the soldiers.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

Objective: Diplomacy with the Aikhibbans (and failing miserably)
Post: 4
Allies: Assisting [member="Taramaz Laurs"] in his escape

The question was not easily answered.

What Ms. Rato had done to Mr. Laurs wasn’t Tmoxin’s business, nor did she care beyond the kind of curiosity that came along with reading a gossip magazine. As a Hapan she had little sympathy for a man who cried that he was “used and abused” by a beautiful woman. But then again, not everyone thought the way the redhead did.

With Ms. Rato under house arrest, it only left Tmoxin and the man before her. And to be honest she didn’t know him very well. While she wanted to backtrack and talk to one of the other Aikhibbans, she realized that diplomacy right now was far too difficult and tenuous, as was communication with the rest of the Confederacy.

“Mr. Laurs, please stop and listen.” And when he wouldn’t, she stomped her foot not as a woman or even as a Hapan, but as a leader of the Confederacy.

“You need to come with me, We need a debriefing. NOW.”

Waiting to board her ship, the Sovereign Stingray, Taramaz could follow or he could go on his own path. Tmoxin was never one to force anyone to do what they didn’t want to do. Unlike the Aikhibbans and quite honestly unlike the Hapan tenants she was used to following herself.

 

[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: [member="Adron Malvern"] [member="Aya Clarke"]

Joined by [member="Aya Clarke"], Madalena gave a nod. Not recognizing her or the male she was with, it took the briefest of checks on her comm to make sure she was indeed with the CIS and not part of the crazy women on the planet.

"Follow me," she said with a grin as she realized the rest of the information that was flowing through, "Exarch Malvern has carved a path of corpses for us. Two miles from here and we get to the facility where the men are kept. Can you run or do I need to carry you?" her eyes went to the male, "I can carry you both if needed."

 

[Kip Ridel]

[SIZE=11pt]Objective: Survive and Escape[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Post: 2[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]You don't look like you've been here as long as everyone else, Mr...[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Renly. Just Renly. And no, it's only been a few weeks."[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Good.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Good? Why good?"[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Because if you can still remember how long you've been in captivity, then you still have enough sense to break out.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Is this some sort of test?"[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Life's a lesson, Renly. The test is remembering.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Remembering what?"[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Remembering the test.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=18pt]A much longer time ago...[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]In the days since the start of the Praexium Resistance of the Halefjord District, multiple areas within the city had become battlegrounds. Where there were once vibrant markets and packed social spaces, there was guerrilla warfare and corpses. If disease and widespread death hadn't rocked the city enough, now a totalitarian political force was executing strict martial law, stripping the rights of many citizens and stealing them away in the name of preservation. Historically, political change on a major scale was gradual. But in the face of a crisis bordering on extinction, the remaining majority - driven by fear - sought an authoritarian power to take control of a rapidly escalating situation.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]That power was the Praexium, and despite the dissenting voices of wives, children, and husbands, Praexium forces had stolen the few remaining men from their homes. The action was quick and efficient. Political protests were quelled. Individual lives had been devalued into a necessary commodity and that commodity was restricted to a singular authoritarian power. It would not part with this power willingly.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]The resistance formed. Networks of women looking to protect their loved ones banded together with the few surviving men to destabilize the Praexium. They served to sabotage facilities, to spread anti-Praexium propaganda, and to fight in the streets if need be. But history would not remember the resistance. The overwhelming fear of losing more men and, by extension, the threat of extinction lead to defections and betrayals. In a matter of weeks, the networks across the city broke down and the remaining groups of rebels were left divided and ripe for the picking.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]One such group set up camp in a now-deserted shoe factory, one mile from the neon signs of the market. From the broken windows, the orange and blue hues from Kalina Halefjord Company's billboards beamed in, offering an ominous aura to an already desolate hideout.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]A makeshift basecamp was established, with overturned tables, boarded windows, and metallic wire serving as fortifications. A small band of six people, four women and two men, remained in the Western 32nd Resistance. Five of them sat in a makeshift circle, passing around portions of preserved food scavenged from the market, though most places had been picked clean already.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]A man named Renly was among the group. He was young, fertile, and prime for Praexium picking. Where many men had submitted themselves to the cause of preservation, Renly stood firmly against the human rights atrocities being committed by the regime. Although he had a soft, young face bearing thin stubbles of hair and sad brown eyes, Renly had a fire within that oozed of defiance and idealism. But for all of his determination, Renly would not have made it far alone.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]The true heart of the small resistance band was a woman Renly affectionally referred to as "M". From the start of the Praexium rise, M had worked silently in the background. She methodically sorted enemy from ally. She created methods of encrypted communications. Many of the major transportation routes were attributed to her efforts. And in spite of all of her calculated efficiency, she was hospitable, caring for the wounded...providing encouragement and food for the needy and the hungry. M stood as a paragon, to which Renly, for all of his bravado, remained only a shadow.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]It was M, in fact, that remained standing and keeping guard while the others ate. Despite the rumbling pains of her stomach, she kept a straight face and tightened her bandana on her head. Renly looked up at the woman with a sullen admiration and a sense of empathy. He had offered his portion, but she refused adamantly, reminding him that he had skipped the last two times and would not survive a third. So, with a heavy heart, he took small bites of his portion of rations while the group summarized their situation.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"It's been at least three days since we last heard word from any of the other camps." Spoke Enya, a spirited woman with golden eyes, caramel skin, and whose hair had frayed from the braids and rows they once sat in.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]The next person who spoke up was Ella, an older mother of four boys, three of whom died from the disease. Once, she had a large figure befitting a kind, well-to-do woman who spent her life baking for her neighborhood. But out of grief and then out of starvation, she had become a hallow shell. Her once warm and kind eyes drooped heavily, and her skin sagged off of her weary bones. "Charlie will call. He always calls. Such a good boy, Charlie..."[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Silence fell upon the group once more. The neon ambience offered a lulling hum, but even that sound had grown to be a source of irritation for the group. Kyra scraped at the bottom of the can, slamming her knife into it repeatedly until she threw it out of frustration. The tumbling metal echoed throughout the room. "Damn it!" She yelled, jumping up from her seated position. She clutched her knife firmly in her hand, swinging it out of frustration. "They're dead. They're dead or captured, which means they might as well be dead. Charlie, Alyn, Bez. They're gone. And we're sitting here starving!"[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]It didn't take long before M had covered the short amount of ground to the flailing Kyra, whose straight, silvery hair was ridden with dirt and scattered in all sorts of directions. M put down her blaster and tip-toed to the woman, catching the wrist with the knife and pulling it behind her back until her hand was forced to drop it. She pulled her friend close, into a hug, shushing her calmly.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Why do we have to suffer?" Kyra cried out. "Why won't they just come kill us already? I don't want to do this anymore. I'm hungry, M. I'm so hungry."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Renly stood up and walked over to her, taking Kyra's other hand. "We all are. But we're not going to let them take us. If we're going to go down, we're going to go down fighting. To the end."[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Kyra sobbed and sank to the ground, feeling no encouragement from the empty words. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, her despair was answered with the sound of explosives on one of the lower floors. M released Kyra and picked up her blaster. The rest of the group, with the exception of Kyra, scrambled into a defensive position. The silver-haired woman collapsed onto her back, screaming out, "We're in here! Kill us! KILL....US!"[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]-----[/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=18pt]A shorter time ago...[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]The ghostly corpse of a city grew larger from the window of the luxury transport shuttle that bore the Minister of Influence, Kip Ridel. Though Kip had read reports on a number of different cities and districts, those that the rest of the CIS had varying interest in, he found the reports understated how desolate things had become. The city was abandoned rather abruptly. Though whether it was abandoned willingly or forcefully was a question of who would control the history books when all was said and done.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Once the shuttle made a landing, several of the crew, which included a few scouts exited first, to determine whether there was an immediate threat. Kip, meanwhile, stood and stretched. The attire he had chosen, a deliberately form-fitting formal wear that he often used to impress powerful men and women looking for some extra fun and eye-candy in their diplomats, was constraining him in all the wrong places. With a few adjustments in the thigh and neck area, he felt a sense of relief and proceeded toward the exit.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Landing area is secure, Mr. Ridel." Spoke one of the scouts. "Your contacts are waiting."[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Thank you, Azi.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]" Kip said, donning his professional tone. He walked down the ramp that extended from the shuttle and was met with a slightly chilly breeze that made him flinch dramatically.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]If I had known it'd be so cold, I might have added a layer or two. I'm afraid you might not catch me at my best, ladies.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]" He joked, albeit shallowly. Still, the three women waiting to meet him chuckled and smiled, flirtatiously. The taller woman in the middle stepped forward and extended a hand that Kip took rather firmly. Her grip tightened and he gave the back of her hand a gentle rub with his thumb, eyes still locked on hers.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]A pleasure,[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]" he said, releasing her hand. He then approached the others, shaking their hands more formally. He looked back at the first woman. "I believe I am to meet with the Constable."

She nodded, affirming. [/SIZE]"Constable Elena Malore of the Halefjord Company is waiting for you, Mr. Ridel." She approached Kip and took his arm into her own. The woman towered over Kip by at least four inches, which intrigued Kip. Being a fan of the political game, he particularly enjoyed the subtext of power moves. Kip was not a short man, by most human standards. But here was a person, sent to greet him, who made him seem small by comparison.

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]It was no matter. Kip's presence and stride more than made up for the difference, and in the dance of politics, he would assuredly take the lead. Where the woman on his arm attempted to quicken the pace, Kip held it back, striking up conversation in the process. He gathered information on Constable Malore. He asked about the city. He asked about the women accompanying him, and sympathized with their threat of extinction.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"One thing is clear, Mr. Ridel," spoke the woman on his arm as she lead Kip through the halls of the Halefjord building. "Madam does not wish to negotiate. The men and women of your Confederacy do not understand what is at stake. Especially not the men."[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]It's not my place to negotiate on behalf of the Viceroyalty. I'm simply here to hear you out and maybe see where the our interests align.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]" Kip smiled his trademark smile and while his promise was received as emptily as most politician promises were, it was clear that Kip understood what kind of footing they were on.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Kip was taken up several flights of stairs, presumably due to a malfunctioning elevator. It was explained to him that the abandonment of the city unfortunately meant that elements of the building infrastructure would be sacrificed.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Stairs build character,[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]" Kip joked as they climbed. He managed the ascent with relative ease, but the increase in his heart rate and swelling of his fingers threw off his implants just enough to break the synchronization. His hands began to tremble. [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Malore definitely did her homework.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]At the top of the stairs, the three women and Kip were halted. His arm was released and each of the women placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Good luck." They said in a sultry, sing-songy way, giggling sadistically as a group as they sauntered away. Two armed women met Kip along with a uniformed woman with curly red hair and freckles. She gave Kip a smile while the guards patted Kip down.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Easy there, ladies."[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] Kip said with a wink. The guards glared up at him, unamused, and resumed their search. When finished, they stepped back and allowed the red-haired woman forward. "Welcome, Mr. Ridel. My name is Marjorie. I am here to bring you to Madam."[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Nodding, Kip replied while stepping past the guards, "[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]A pleasure.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Marjorie walked closely beside Kip, pressing her shoulder up against him and speaking quietly. "Mr. Ridel, you are aware of our situation. But I'm afraid...that you are not aware of yours."[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Kip's facial expression did not change. He was in the process of parsing out Marjorie, determining her position and intent. "[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Go on.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]" He said.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Madam has no interest in negotiating with you." She said, firmly. "I'm afraid this will not go as you expect."[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]It's been made abundantly clear to me that no negotiations will take place. I'm simply here to talk.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"It is a waste of time." Marjorie quietly warned. "There are men here. In this building. Captured men."[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Kip's expression remained still and unchanging as they walked. Though his pace slowed. He was still trying to determine the angle of the person beside him. Was she truly giving him inside information? Or was she playing Malore's game, attempting to make Kip fearful before the meeting.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]All of the men on this world are captured.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]" Kip said.[/SIZE]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"No...these men aren't captured for breeding." Marjorie answered, looking up at him with concern. "Mr. Ridel, Madam Malore doesn't want to negotiate or discuss with you. She wants to make an example of you, and every one of your kind."[/SIZE]

​

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Location: Aikhibba
Objective: BYOO
Post: 4

Aiden could have helped, yes, but [member="Naedira Darcrath"] seemed pretty well set on rushing head-long into the fray armed with all the righteous fury of a Knight Obsidian. For several moments longer, Aiden watched and evaluated. There was a quality to both his allies and their enemies. From his vantage point, Aiden allowed the Force to flow through his mind, sharing visions and hints of the future. In many ways it was like watching Naedira and the others act out a play. On occasion, however, Naedira as able to react to that which could have happened before it did. Each time she did this, it changed the landscape of that which Aiden saw in his mind's eye. Naturally, he was aware of the simple reality of other force users reacting to things before they happened, but he'd never really been in a position to sit back and see it in real-time.

The large Sith Lord remained rooted in his position for perhaps another few moments until...he saw something that he could not idly allow to come to pass. Well...in truth he could have, and he wouldn't have lost any sleep over the matter. It was a vision of several Dauntless falling to the blades of three women that had somehow managed to obscure themselves among their fallen comrades. In his mind, Aiden watched as the three, large women vaulted to their feet, killing two of the Dauntless instantly. Another three fell mere moments later, their reactions mostly flat-footed. In the end the Dauntless prevailed but not before six of their kind had perished.

Even though the loss of a hundred warriors would not have moved Aiden's soul, the concept of failure...he could not abide. It was almost just as unpalatable as weakness was to the Sith. Abruptly, the Sith Lord began to surge forward, aided by the strength of the Force. However, before he could take more than three large steps, his silver-green eyes caught sight of the enemy soldiers beginning to stir from their concealed positions beneath the bodies of their sisters. The two Dauntless he had seen fall first in his vision were standing immediately in front of the three, facing away from the emerging threat.

What happened next...Aiden rather doubt any would have expected. A skill, a technique that had taken years to perfect. A power he had acquired from the mysterious Aing-Tii some time ago when he'd been investigating rumors of a 'God' matching his biological father's description in the vicinity of Exocron. The discovery of a fanatical civilization had guided Aiden to the discovery of a great many interesting secrets and realities. It was always thus on the fringes of the Outer Rim, however.

As the air in the immediate vicinity seemed to become abruptly thick with humidity, an almost complimentary effect to the odd weather patterns being manipulated by another, tendrils of blue-white energy began to crackle around Aiden's form. The air around him seemed to visibly contort and bend until suddenly the massive Sith simply disappeared from view with an audible pop. An instant later, streaks of blue-white energy seemed to materialize in front of the two Dauntless before racing past them. Directly between the two warriors and the three enemy, Aiden's large frame erupted back into existence. The burning crimson blade of his lightsaber activated silently, devoid of the usual snap-hiss, just before plunging into the midsection of one of the woman.

Even as Aiden ripped the weapon skyward, partially separating the female's body into two halves, he utilized the shock of his sudden appearance to seize the other two with the power of the Force. Unceremoniously, Aiden flooded their bodies with manipulated Force energy, forcing all of their internal organs to expand rapidly. Creamy white spinal fluid began to dribble from their ears before their entire bodies exploded in a hail of blood, flesh, and bone, no longer able to sustain the massive pressure within. Pieces of bone and flesh quickly coated the Sith Lord's body and stuck in areas of his long hair as he turned to regard the Dauntless nearest him along with Naedira.

There wasn't anything to be said. Merely a mission to complete, and as Naedira had suspected, they were indeed running out of time.

Aiden's lightsaber deactivated silently before he clipped the hilt back to his belt.

 

[Darth Miseria]

Wearing: Honey Boo Prototype Boots | Derriphan Armour​

Wielding: Famine and Pestilence | Bubbles​

Location: Dark Alley, Capital City ​

Tags: [member=Scherezade deWinter] | [member=Aya Clarke] | [member=Adron Malvern]​

Kark and kriff it. 'Serenity' swept over the low lying lands of Aikhibba. She was always late, even more so now she had a demon child to attend to and an entire planet relying on her. Yet, recently, Dianah always found time for missions. During a date on night Jaron had said something that had rested on her mind for a long while. She had trapped herself in a political prison. While this wasn't necessarily a bad thing and she was enjoying herself in the process she did miss the feeling of her saber cutting through the air. She missed the way the dark power she was subservient too came when she called, but most of all she simply missed having fun.

Maddy's presence was crawling ever nearer. When they had broken through the atmosphere Dianah had done a quick scan of all the Confederates currently on the planet. Madalena Antares was the one she knew well, in fact, Dianah would consider her her best friend. 'Serenity's engines creaked and groaned as the pilot took it lower than it had any right to go. She could see and feel her friend tucked away in an alley shining brightly like a green emerald in the centre of a sea of grey rock. Dianah wouldn't have time to wait for the ship to land, there was only one way to go about getting down.

The hiss of the doors as they slid open to reveal the hundred something feet drop below them set Dianah's heart ablaze. There was always a hit of apprehension when she was jumping out of something this high, but she had done it plenty of times before. The best thing to do was just do it. So she did. The wind streamed past her face, making her eyes water and sting with the force of it. Her thick locks whipped violently behind her, slicing through the air with a crack so loud even she could hear it. The ground was coming up fast, the force gathered around her comfortingly, like a thick blanket she had dragged from her own bed.

The tip of her Honey Boo Prototype boot scrambled to meet with the solid ground. Dianah imagined she always looked a little comical desperately trying to reach the floor. The ground was littered left to right with dead or dying bodies, which wasn't exactly a strange sight for Dianah. The weirdest thing was that all of them were women. She had read up on Aikhibba, of course, but it was still a very odd sight to behold. Dianah shook her head in an attempt to calm her wild curls, but they only seemed to turn more nest like. After making the mental note to wear a helmet when she was jumping out of ships Dianah called out as loudly as she dared.

'MADDDDddDDDdDdDdYYYY!'