Malheur au combattant de la liberté pour votre cause est désespérée

[Darth Carnifex]

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Mid Rim, Ord Mantell
Secret Alliance-Republic-Jedi Staging Ground

A faint drizzle descended across the urban landscape as distant thunderclouds boomed, threatening the onset of a future downpour. But the men and women dressed in matching yellow and orange jumpsuits didn't seem the mind the spotty rains, for it was refreshing to their aching muscles and sweat-matted hair as they moved crate after crate of supplies, munitions, and other goodies delivered to them by the the recently returned raiding party. They had been lucky in catching that Imperial convoy before it reached the fortress-like sanctity of the ever encroaching western arm of the Sith Empire that sprung up from the Deep Core like a weed to wage a brutal war against the Republic for many long years.

Now the Republic had been spread so thin, their resources depleted as the Empire gobbled up their territories bit by bit until they had been deadlocked in the Northern Dependencies. An alliance of disillusioned Jedi and soldiers had sprung up along the Rimma Trade Route to the west, but they had been unable to even make a dent in the Empire's territory that stretched from Panatha to Khomm. Organized warfare quickly devolved into a drawn out guerilla campaign aimed at hampering the Empire's vital trade network both within and without. They'd had no such luck at making headway in the boundaries of the Empire, but out in the neutral swaths they had managed to catch several convoys unawares and reveled in the spoils they've reeled in.

Ever individual cargo container had been given the once over with the scanners, and everything had come back negative in regards to lifeforms inhabiting any of the crates. However; just as the scanner technician was mindlessly passing over the last crate removed from the rickety converted hauler it was delivered elicited the tell-tale signs of life, a slow rhythmic beating at slow, paced intervals. Boggled at how they missed this during their first scan the scanner technician tapped the small control pad built into the side of the crate allowing the nearest side to disengage from the rest of the container and slowly retract into the adjacent walls. Armed with only a small blaster pistol and a glowrod he slowly entered the contained, shining his light between every nook and cranny at an attempt to discern what had triggered his sensor.

The answer came a fraction of a second later as a gloved hand emerged from the darkness to latch onto the technician's face, stifling a scream that had quickly built in his throat to only a muffled groan as pressure was applied to his skull. The last thing the technician saw was the yellow glow of his lamp lightning up a face that resembled a silver skull, and the dark piercing eyes that peered out from the sockets. And then, with a sickening crack, all he ever knew was the cruel darkness.

But he was only the first of many to perish.

(( I got bored and decided to partake in some good ole fashioned murder with my best buddy, best pal [member="Darth Ophidia"]
Anyone can feel free to join in as they like, but remember this is for good wholesome family fun, so I don't want any unneeded drama or prick measuring
That means you. You know who you are. ))

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

The neighbourhood had little to recommend it. Like most urban sectors on Ord Mantell, it made Ember think of rusted, dented armour. But Alec had been raving about the tomo-spiced Karkan ribenes at Karkin' Ribs -- a literal hole in the wall adjacent to a dubious chop shop. Thence had come Ember and a number of his associates, because Dathomiri cooking could wear on you, and Yavin cuisine involved MREs and wild game. The Hard Roil subsisted on SFRCs and bedjie gruel.

"It's been a long fething time since I was on a mission of mercy."

Ember lifted one side of a mesh-sided shipping crate alone; three Dathomiri Mandalorians took the other side. Together, the four Rekalis carted the crate up the ramp of an armed transport. He'd parked in the wide street in front of Karkin' Ribs, for convenience. No point in carrying a quarter ton of plastifoam-wrapped tomo-spiced nerf longer than you had to. The weight wasn't horrible -- he'd been known to arm-wrestle bull rancors recreationally -- but the spice watered his eyes, so he'd put on his helmet between pallets.

"As if you're not going to eat half of this yourself, ba'buir," said one of the three, voice modulated by a helmet and an intervening mass of plastifoam containers.

"Fenn, you don't even want to know my daily calorie intake. A fair share of the protein's the least I could ask."

"So you know Force Prevent Arteriosclerosis?"

"I," said Ember loftily, armored cheek pressed into a mountain of plastifoam and barbecue sauce, "am a master of every Force discipline related to the body. Except for the soft end of Alchaka. Jedi sex yoga has no place in my skillset."

"How did we go from ribs to Jedi sex yoga, ba'buir?"

Ember was saved by a sliced police alarm that scrolled through his helmet's HUD. Not too far away, someone had just reported a murder, and another, and another. And the Dark Side in him growled in affinity. With a blistering Paecean cuss, he shoved the mesh crate into the cargo bay. "You boys button up the ship. I'm going to check this out. Fenn, with me."

 

[Asemir]

Asemir Lor'kora had been keeping an eye on Ember and crew as they loaded the crates foodstuffs and another eye on the surrounding area. It wasn't a horrible neighborhood, but it wasn't a nice one either. And it wasn't strictly necessary for him to keep overwatch. The group of Dathomir witches were hardly harmless or defenseless, and anyone who wished to separate them from their valuables would be in for a painful surprise. But habit was habit, and the Forgotten had taken up post, arms crossed and looking threatening. That and a little bit of the Force kept most passersby and potential onlookers at a safe distance.

It didn't take long for the Ingr'Nysk's stomach to growl, and he frowned in annoyance as his body disobeyed his discipline. The thought of those spiced ribs was greatly enticing and it was something the entire colony was looking forward to, Asemir included. Having lived off of military rations and other "food", he'd now grown very accustomed to the fine dining that he had awarded himself after leaving military service. Witch cuisine was new and quite good, but he was looking forward to something different.

Just a few hours more, he thought, and then they would be done with this "mission" and on their way to a nice meal.

Except, of course, Fate had other plans.

Asemir watched curiously as Ember left the group, having been alerted to something. He paused for a half-moment, tempted to follow his leader's orders and stay with the ship, but then shrugged. "Sir," he called to the Witch elder, "would you like me to stick with the goods or tag along?"

[member="Ember Rekali"]
[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Asemir Lor'kora"]

Ember's gut sloshed ominously. Feth, was that Ingr'Nysk ever good at keeping a low profile. "Come on along, Lor'kora," he called over his shoulder, and slowed to let the ageing assassin catch up. "I'm not one for sensing much, so if even I'm feeling this, there's something bad on its way. And then there's the police scanner, which tells me if this is working on someone's timetable, that timetable is in the short term."

That, and though he didn't quite have the words for it, his flow-walking connection gave him an impression of possible futures closing off rapidly.

"Could be nothing, of course."

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Drizzling rain, rumbling thunder, the splash of footprints and the shouts of people moving crates. Droids whirred about and everywhere there was the constant hum of machinery. How many were there? Twenty, fourty? Didn't matter, in time there would be nil.

"Duncan, is there somethin' in there? I swear on me mum. If you jump out on me, I blast you."

Another technician approached the cargo container. His brother-in-law, Duncan, always played tricks. One day, Duncan would piss off the wrong guy. That is, if he had not stumbled into the path of [member="Darth Vornskr"]. The silence filled the younger technician with equal parts of dread and annoyance. They really needed to finish up this scan, containers needed to move. On his way towards the container, a woman in an orange jumpsuit bumped into the second technician. Did people not look where they were going these days? Rude, it was.

"Oy watc i-"

Steve the technician put his hand on his side as air was suddenly in short supply. Why couldn't he breathe? Why did it hurt? What was all this wet stuff? Steve turned, seeing the back of the person who bumped him and the shine of the dagger as she slipped it back up her sleeve. She took a rain-cover and a datapad from a stockpile of crates, turned on her heel and threw the cover over the corpse while checking the numbers on the crates and their next logistics.

While Darth Vornskr hid in his box, Darth Ophidia had infiltrated the workers. Her attitude did much of the work as she kept an aura of being too busy and too important to question. There was not a shred of concern in her, except what she feigned when reading the datapad. Her appearance was not her own either, but an illusion made by bending light through the force. The appearance she had adopted was that of a female Chiss, unremarkable in nearly all aspects. While pretending to read, she listened intently.

She was a blade in the dark, no-one and everyone: The Pale Assassin.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Duncan's body collapsed to the ground awkwardly, his torso pressed up against one of the nearby crates as gore oozed from the pulped mass that used to be his skull. The towering monolith of a man absently wiped his hands on the man's yellow jacket, smearing it crimson. The other intruder was quickly taken care of by the Pale Assassin, his body left to wither beneath a rain-cover. The Butcher watched as the Pale Assassin disappeared into the distance before walked towards the back of the container where several large crates had been arrayed into rows, and wave a simple wave of his hand the locks were disengaged and the four sides crumbled down with heavy thuds. Inside were individuals covered from head to toe in billowing black robes, their faces covered with masks identical to the one the Butcher wore, and lightsabers were clipped to their sides.

With another gesture they all sprang to life in unison, their hands instinctively reaching for the lightsabers at their side. As one they began a fearsome march out of the container, their movement oddly stiff and mechanical for ones who's beings were wrapped in a cloak of the Dark Side of the Force. Their footsteps were like rolling booms of thunder, rhythmic and terrible. Within moments they passed through the container's threshold, within plain sight of anyone who had been glancing in that direction, and as one they ignited their weapons. The monstrous thrum of plasma blades being ignited alerted all to their presence, but even then what came next was shocking. It was as if a switch had been clicked, where before the Sith-like beings stood together in an organized column, now they lunged high into the air, sprinted with unnatural ferocity, twirling their double-bladed weapons with lethal precision as they proceeded to hack apart anyone or anything that came near them.

The entire loading dock spiraled into a panic, alarms blared and soldiers were mobilized to deal with the Sith threat. Blasters sung as filed ranks of soldiers arrayed themselves before the intruders, launching blast after blast into the chaotic crowd. Yet with synchronized movements the blaster bolts were deflected away, but none so that were purposefully repulsed back into the soldiers. It was only a matter of time before they too fell to their unbridled assault.

[member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Ember Rekali"] | [member="Asemir Lor'kora"]

 

[Jack Mirrikh]

And here...we....go!

The way to the loading dock had two main access roads. One was larger, but had less cover whilst the other one could provide flanking options for an invading force. Jack's directive was to block up and discourage use of the latter. Once he got wind that the cat was out of the bag, he came out of the alleyway and ignited his saber to cause a panic. During the civilian panic, enough room was cleared to begin the real work.

Disengaging his light saber, he used both hands to command the Force. Speeders and whatever other debris that could be found were torn from their spots and forced into the barricade of Jack's design. When he finished the mess of a clog, he stepped onto his hover pad and ascended higher into the sky and waited in the alley at about the height of the fifth story.

Police speeders showed up and were naturally going to fly over the blockade on the ground. This was to be expected. The only reason for the blockade was to make it hella' hard to get through on foot by soldiers and cops taking the slow and strong approach. He hovered out of the alleyway and used the Force to shove the first police speeder into the second. A police speeder van was cruising behind them, so Jack forced it into a steep dive to meet the ground. Bodies were visibly tossed from that explosion. In the distance, he could see so many police lights, it was as bright as the Las Vegas strip at night.

He cracked his knuckles and glanced at his watch...Dang. This was kind of fun, but time sure wasn't flying as he hoped it would.

[member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Ember Rekali"] | [member="Asemir Lor'kora"] | [member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

As Darth Ophidia put down the datapad and moved on with her feigned work, she could hear the rumbling footsteps of the droids and the crashing outside. Then came the choir of humming plasma blades, spitting and hissing their songs of chaos as they carved through obstacles. Ophidia ran with the crowd, feigning panic. She pushed others aside and stepped on those who fell, all to further the fear and destroy notions of working together. It was every being for themselves.

When the crowd started getting a little too tight and her life was in jeopardy, the nimble woman slipped out and behind a supporting structure. Her disguise faded away and the hooded, armoured form of Darth Ophidia remained. She unclipped one of the two curved lightsabres at her sides and surveyed the area. The fleeing masses did not concern her much, but she could do something about the ranks of troops shooting at her sabrestaff-wielding companions.

Fuelling her body with the Force, she charged at the backs of the closest ranks. Even when running, her footfalls were soft and silent, easily drowned out in the noise. The bloodshine blade erupted from her curved hilt and moved immediately into a wide slash. The first cut carved a bloody swath through the leftmost flank, slashing clean trough two full torsos and a left arm. Determined not to receive a faceful of plasma, Ophidia shot her left hand forward, throwing a wave of Force-energy to knock the remainder out of balance.

She had learned one thing from watching the Hand of the Dark Lord before her death: Never release the pressure.

[member="Darth Vornskr"], [member="Jack Mirrikh"], [member="Ember Rekali"], [member="Asemir Lor'kora"]

 

[Asemir]

"I'm hoping it's nothing," the Forgotten replied. "I've been wanting to try some of those ribs."

Asemir's hopes were dashed as the wails of police sirens echoed through the air, followed almost immediately by a wave of a very familiar brand of the Force. The Dark Side. And full of strength. It made the Ingr'Nysk's stomach cringe. It had been a while since he last sensed so much malevolent energy in one place. So much hate, anger, death, carnage.

He instinctively commanded his armor to run a system check and turned to his lord as their pace quickened. "I'm sure you felt that. This isn't 'nothing' anymore."

[member="Ember Rekali"]

PS, who is Fenn? Just an NPC?

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
[member="Jack Mirrikh"]
[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Asemir Lor'kora"] [member="Darth Vornskr"] [member="Jack Mirrikh"] [member="Darth Ophidia"]

OOC/ Yup.

IC/ Panicked civilians choked the streets, and Ember took to the rooftops, presuming Asemir could follow. This neighbourhood offered little above two or three stories -- a quick hop, nothing more. In short order, Ember crouched on a roof that overlooked a localized subset of Hell. Innumerable police, backed by their speeders' lights, were raining fire on a significant number of Sith.

Ember saw no real reason to forebear.

He sighted down his forearm at one of the gyrating acrobats, and called on the Force to strengthen him against the recoil. His bracer-mounted shattergun fired, impossibly dead silent despite a kilometre-per-second muzzle velocity, and no flash marked his location. He kept low, too, so as not to silhouette himself too blatantly. Beyond those simple measures, he didn't bother with much in the way of stealth.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The shattergun round sang a silent song as it tore through the empty air towards one of the many hooded figures before colliding squarely with its chest, knocking the individual back against a nearby crate as sparks erupted from the entry wound alongside a thick stream of ichor-like fluid. The robed figure attempted to rise, but the kinetic energy produced by the round had displaced some gyros and other machinery once contained within the metal alloy of his chassis. Its head swiveled up to peer up at the rooftops with bionic eyes that began to scan for anything biological that could have contributed to his sudden, and violent, injury. As far as the droid could tell there was only one humanoid organic present on the roof with the capacity to inflict such damage, and with a near-instantaneous garble of binary the rest of the group was now aware of the dangerous intruder.

However; only a small number turned to fixate on the rooftops while the remaining majority continued to deflect the onslaught of blaster fire being unloaded by both the port security and newly arrived law enforcement minutemen. It was by then that the blood-red lines of the attackers weren't the only lightsabers to cut through the rain-laced air as a nearby garage door opened to reveal a small contingent of Jedi flanked by more overt Republican guerilla soldiers. That was when the battle truly became chaotic as another fraction of the attacking "Sith" diverted their attention away from the soldiers and onto the new arrivals. It was the opening the Butcher King had been waiting for as he patiently waited between the cargo containers that littered the port.

With almost paltry effort he flung a cone of pure kinetic energy towards one of the containers, sending it hurtling end over end towards the Jedi as they charged the far lines of the droids. Those that had failed to notice the container were knocked aside or crushed outright as it thundered on its path, but those more attuned to their surroundings easily jumped up high to avoid it. But it was their quick reaction that left them vulnerable to the Sith Lord that trailed behind the container's wake with his hand outstretched to target any Jedi at random with his crushing grip. The nearest Jedi, a female Cerean, was the first to suffer his wrath as she was yanked down towards him only to be completely bisected at the stomach with a single cross-cut of his lightsaber. He tossed her smoldering remains to the side as he moved into a full sprint, his speed enhanced by the Force, to vault far and high into the air just to angle the tip of his lightsaber down with a two-handed grip and drive it through one of the few Jedi to be scattered by the container.

His blade pinned the younger man straight through the torso and into the permacrete ground below, but he was not yet dead as a scream of surprise and pain erupted past his lips. The Sith Lord quickly silenced him by ripping up his lightsaber to cleave the boy from the center of the torso up through his sternum and out through his neck. By now the Jedi had become aware of the more vibrant Sith who had suddenly scattered their ranks so easily, and began to enact a stratagem of numerical superiority to try and take him down.

They would soon learn that such tactics were ineffective.

[member="Ember Rekali"] | [member="Asemir Lor'kora"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Jack Mirrikh"]

 

[Asemir]

Asemir could have followed Ember to the rooftops but didn't. It would have been tactically unsound to fire from the same position, especially when there was such a great opportunity to catch the Sith in a crossfire.

The Forgotten boosted himself up with a burst of the Force and took hold of a fire escape mounted to the side of a building perpendicular to Ember's rooftop. He crawled along the rusted durasteel structure until he was in position, and then unhooked his rifle from its mounting hard point. A quick eye blink triggered a rune on his heads up display, initiating his armor's mimetic effect.

Asemir gave the nanomachines a few seconds to perfect the camouflage before sighting down the rifle's length. There were no shortage of targets amidst the growing chaos.

Deciding to make his shot count, the Forgotten chose a Sith that had just launched a cargo container at a group of Jedi, and slowed his breathing. He tracked the target's movements, noted how he had just bisected a younger man, and pulled the trigger. The slug thrower jerked back with recoil, and even before he saw the effect of his first round, Asemir was working the bolt to pump another round into the chamber.

In his experience, even with the element of surprise, it would take more than single shot to take down a Force user.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Once, leaving the One Sith had been a boon. It had afforded her the freedom to travel as she hadn’t in what felt like eons. Running with enemies of the galaxy at large was bad for your passport. But she’d just as quickly learned that her reputation preceded her elsewhere, even as a solitary creature. For those reasons, she’d taken to pulling a black sheath of carefully wrapped fabric up over the lower half of her face to obscure the ruins of scar tissue where her mouth used to be. Even before she’d been recognizable - now, she was unmistakable.

Ord Mantell was dreary, and a place she avoided unless otherwise required. Once she’d battled a Jedi Master here, but that was the extent of her fond memories. Her presence now was merely in her own interest - her wounds had not been grave enough to kill her, but she needed to construct a rebreather of some sort, for the long haul. She’d heard of someone who specialized on the planet, but luck was not on her side for the moment. She’d just managed to get a man who vaguely fit the description of the gentleman she’d been searching for to talk to her despite her telepathic intrusion when-

“Murtagh, ya ken what’s goin’ on down the other end of the quarter?” came a man from around the corner, blustering and red-faced.

“Oi ya karker, use your bloody eyes! Can’t ya see I’m talking?”

But Matsu wasn’t listening anymore, her gaze following the constant wailing of law enforcement sirens collecting down in the direction the men were speaking of. She was gone before they’d even noticed she’d left, a whisper sprinting off towards the end of the city quarter.

She used rooftops until she’d drawn close enough to see smoke, fire - destruction on a scale only one sort was capable of. Once she may have passed up the event...but after returning from Out There, the Unknown, she’d taken it upon herself to cause as much suffering as she possibly could. (It was teaching them a lesson. Weather this, because there’s more to come. Agony is The Way.) Scoping out a way in to the open-air complex full of metal crates and open box containers, she dropped from the low roof-top she was on and sprinted low towards another wall she could scale in to the complex.

From her right, three sentries appeared, sprinting just as quickly towards her as she was past them. Raising her right arm to focus her power, she pulled at their strings. They stopped in their tracks and pointed their rifles at one another, a quick trifecta of shots that left her path clear.

She climbed down the low wall, the spider leaving her web for more tempting prey.

[member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Asemir Lor'kora"] | [member="Ember Rekali"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Jack Mirrikh"]​