Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Mando Finesse (Mandalorian Dominion of Serenno)

B'Arin Graad

Shield of Mandalore
@[member="Ember Rekali"] @[member="Serock Hoath"]

B'Arin was still getting used to life back in the galaxy. Otherspace was a hell of a place to live for six months. When a call went out for some op work, he signed right up. Wasn't a hard op to run. Only stipulation was they couldn't use Mandalorian-style armor. Old B'Arin might have objected to that, but New B'Arin had learned that you did what you had to do to get the job done. And that meant wearing a simple Iron Skin with a death mask over his head. Armor was armor, even if it looked more like sleepwear than proper combat armor.

He'd let Serock and Ember do the chatting. He just fiddled with his rifle while they talked. Hopefully there would be some shooting to be had. B'Arin hated boring missions with no violence.
 
Herion had finally be called upon and it was for a covert op. That had the young mandalorian grinning like the others here he wore a blasterproof vest and a stocking cap at his waist was blaster pistol. He looked towards the man in charge of this group and grinned to himself his green eyes flashing brightly. Sure he only had an obvious blaster but also hidden on his person was a vibroknife that he was quite adept at using. For now he stood near the rear of the group of Mandos waiting for the word that the assault was going to begin.
@[member="Ember Rekali"] @[member="Serock Hoath"]
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
@[member="Serock Hoath"] @B'Arin Graad @[member="Herion"]

Ember nodded in approval at their gear, or lack thereof. "Plan's simple enough. This is a smash and grab on a random Count's summer home, same kind of crime that takes place a hundred times a day on any civilized world. I checked the local crime stats, such as they are. Counts' auxiliary residences get busted up same as anything. This one's got three aboveground stories and a basement. The vault is under the basement -- that's a subbasement for you caveman types. There's a guardpost at the front gate a hundred metres from the house, and a clear line of sight between that guardpost and the guardpost at the front door, so here's the plan. One of you snipes the guardpost at the front door while the rest of us smash the gate and the associated post in my speeder. From there, we bust in, use a class-D thermal to make a tidy hole in the floor, drop down to the basement, use another class-D thermal to make a tidy hole in the top of the vault. I've got hoverboots for all of us, for the exit. Questions?"
 
Herion shock his head as he checked his pistol and then pulled his vibroknife checking to make sure its energy cell was full he spun it around once and sheathed it again. Herion then glanced around as he thought of something and calmly spoke in softer tones. "Who is taking the shots at the guardpost?" @[member="Ember Rekali"] @[member="Serock Hoath"] @B'Arin Graad
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
@[member="Herion"] @[member="B'Arin Graad"] @[member="Serock Hoath"]

"Well, we've got a Mun'Beviin Anti-Materiel Rifle," said Ember, indicating the monstrous sniper rifle where it leaned against the wall. "That should handle the front door guardpost's plate transparisteel, and the guard, and probably every wall behind it. I'm qualified on one and I'll take the shot, unless any of you folks have sniper experience. Yes? No?"
 
Herion glanced at the monster of a sniper rifle and chuckled half to himself. "While I would love to use that weapon I don't have training as a sniper yet. Unless anyone else can take the shoot its all yours Sir." Herion moved to glance towards the counts house carefully noting the guard post mentioned and the one within the walls he chuckled to himself. That may work against regular bandits these were Mandalorians they would need a small army to stop them.
@[member="Ember Rekali"]
 
@[member="Nessarose deWinter"] @[member="Count Morcus"] @[member="Count Aretine"] @[member="Strider Garon"]

To see the chiseled jaw of the Count of Aretine and the flare of his manner was a pleasure that lit upon the Countess's eyes, revealing just a flicker of approval at his entrance.

Good, her missive had been received, detailing just what they were up against. To include the movements of the exiled Count Morcus. Her lips pursed in displeasure at the silver haired man. What petty excuse of a noble and a dishonor to his House.

"Count Aretine," purred the Countess, giving a deep curtsy, as she felt her sister come to place beside her. A handmaiden came to her right, bowing low only to murmur the communication from Nessa deWinter.

Perfect.

"Bring her to the estate," she said in a low coo to the handmaiden, who then excused herself -- but before she left, Cyrena made a mention of letting her babies run wild.

Things would certainly become interesting. The Count was not the only one who held a droid army at their disposal. And she had other connections she could pull.

For now, they were at an impasse. As the ruling Count, Aretine held a sway over the rest of the Houses. What would come next would certainly pique the interest of every noble in Serenno.
 
From under the veil of the Princess's headdress came the seemingly soft and cordial voice, "Greetings, Count Aretine," she gave a small and proper dip of her head that would indicate a greeting.

"I am Princess Ozmeri Gitana'ti, of Velmor," she introduced herself, the shorter woman a petite figure among the Mandalorian's around her.

"I pray that we can come to an accord and simply discuss matters in an open format --- with poise and dignity." she seemingly suggested with a pleasant tone, apparently attempting to cool matters.
 
@[member="Garrus Garon"]
(Shameless @[member="Aditya Amadis"] mention)

Preliat paused for a moment, before speaking again. He crossed his arms, again, taking a long while to think on the subject. He turned to the older, bald Mandalorian beside her."I met her, when I was helping the Army Of Light. She's...unlike any other woman I've ever met. She used to be married before, but the man both went up and ditched her after getting hitched, and then....went off and died. She hasn't lived, really. Always this and that. And I guess that's what we have in common. We lost our youth so early. I'm only 23, and I'm pretty sure I lost a part of that life at the Dark Harvest. Nobody should ever have to see what I saw, what we all did."He paused, leaning forward. The cigarette's top half fell to the ground, with his pause accentuating his worry and troubles.

"But I look at her, and I don't feel any of that. I just see her. It's magical, and it's all I want in the world right now."
 
"They are expecting us," said the handmaiden, and Nessarose nodded, willing the beating of her heart to slow down. It would do no good to show up nervous. She had an entrance to make, one that would show her as who she was now. Not the four year old girl with chocolate covered arms, but the woman who reigned. A Sith Sorceress. A queen.

The limousine stopped just in front of the mansion's entrance. First came out a Warrior and a Sorceress. They were the only ones of her entourage to have had their hair and make up done, elaborate styles, making them stand apart from the rest. Nessarose stepped out after them, her back straight and her chin up, a confident expression on her face. The tiny breeze she demanded from the air moved the fur around her cleavage, bringing attention to the area for a single breath. Then came the others, walking behind their queen, keeping their gazes not only on her but around their surroundings too, knowing all too well of the potential dangers that lurked on the planet.

Seeing the Countess of Bathory, the group came to a stop slightly before her. The entourage bowed deeply, and Nessarose gave the perfect curtsy before straightening herself up, keeping the others as they were. Her eyes were fixed on the woman that had known her mother, and she immediately understood why her mother had spoken with respect. She could feel the ebbs and flow of the Force around the woman, thumping to the beat of her heart. There was power here.

"Countess Bathory," she greeted the woman, allowing only a tiny smile to appear on her face; there would be time for Nessa-smiles later, "I am Nessarose deWinter. Queen of Endelaan, and daughter to who was once your ally - Lady deWinter".

@[member="Countess of Báthory"]
 
Sabrina was getting ready for to her mission, she been asked to spy on the manalorians, by her masters. Try and gain insight, on their future plans for this world, and make it harder for them. Since fall of the sith empire, these barbarians have been taking too many worlds, and may become a threat, to her masters plans. Some how the count, made contact with her master and requested aid, and she was sent for know.
She liked this world it was cultured, it was refined in it`s tastes. The lady`s of this world wore, some of finest silk gowns she had ever seen. Sabrina then looked at herself in a mirror, and thought to herself With all the possible positions, you could have had on this world, why the severn hells, did Count aretine make me a waitress. She wanted one those dress, they looked really really nice. Alas her job was serve the barbarian horde, food and wine of all things, she wonder if they could even tell the difference between red and white.
As her shift started, her new supervisor, who had no idea who she was, said to her Your late, and docking it from your pay, now get over their with other`s, get a tray. He then added Your lucky I am not firing you! Sabrina replied as courteously as she could, I would want that now, would I. She then head over and picked up a tray, to take to main dinning room.
So she head to the main chamber, where they gathering for their first meeting, with several other servants carrying food and drink. She still not quit fathom, how she ended up serving them. Though she new the count wanted her to go unnoticed, and this was probably the best way.

@Count Aretine @Strider Garon
 
...when the newest member of their threesome arrived Garrus would have shift his attention from Preliat towards the man who introduced himself as Han'zel and offered a nod in his general direction. The Warrior didn't recognize this new man but he was polite enough to tell him..."You're looking at it."...meaning he and Preliat had been talking while each of them enjoyed their own particular vice..."Drink?"...came question from Garrus before he offered the bottle he'd been drinking from to the late arrival. As he made his way closer to the two of them Garrus could see the jetpack that Han'zel was wearing on his back but aside from this he didn't notice much, well the slugthrowers were hard to miss, the man seemed about as inconspicuous as any of them could have been in their current situation which was to say not very...

...once Garrus had offered the newcomer a drink, without offering him his name, he'd have turned to look back at Preliat who had begun to describe the woman he'd been talking about to him. He listened and when he heard Preliat pause before he leaned forward with the smoke hanging out of his mouth he'd remark...
"We've all seen things."...that much was a fact or whether or not the Dark Harvest was the most terrible thing anyone had seen it didn't erase that fact..."You're not the only ones who lost your youth and twenty-three isn't that young at all. I've seen kids half your age when they lost theirs."...Garrus had some sympathy for Preliat but the man needed to know that his situation was hardly unique and that the reality was he could have had it much worse. "If it's magical when you're with her then hold onto that as long as you can but don't lament on lost youth or time for to long it'll only kill you quicker."...that wasn't all he had to say on the subject but the reality was that Garrus supported Preliat's desire to be with this woman and change his stars as it were however having seen as many battles as he had he did not believe in the lamentation of what was lost. He was a hard man but not without his weaknesses...

...around now he'd look towards the courtyard and the estate itself before wondering aloud...
"Wonder what kind of negotiations are going on in there? Strider does like his women though."...his Brother was a gregarious fellow and Garrus made his assumptions.


@[member="Preliat Mantis"]@[member="Han'zel"]
 
"I shall keep my own counsel on what is profitable for Serenno," Aretine furrowed his brow at Count Morcus. Who was this man, whose name he did not even know, who was skulking about here? Count Aretine smelled a rat in this old one before him. "There are matters at stake more important than money. Of that, we have a vast supply already."

Aretine could not engage this unknown Count any longer, as the Countess of Bathory had approached him. Finally, a welcome sight - a person of nobility whom he actually recognized. He trusted that the Countess was sensible enough to detect the imminent danger that the Mandalorians posed, unlike Morcus. With a smile, and a regal dip of his head, Aretine addressed her.

"Countess Bathory. A pleasure."

Although the truth was that this ordeal was not a pleasure in the slightest. The Mandalorians were here to seek terms for a subjugation; he had only yet to hear them say it. Why else would the barbarians suddenly take interest in Serenno? They knew only one thing - war and conquest. A pity that Bathory's finest wine was now being wasted on the philistine gullets of their hordes in the cellar below.

Then, he was approached for the first time by one of the Mandalorians, a royal envoy of some sort. "And I am Count Aretine, of the Great House Aretine of Serenno." He managed to keep his formalities of address, although he wondered what a Princess of Valimor was doing with a bunch of Mandalorians. At least they brought nobility to negotiate on their behalf, which was more than Aretine would have expected of them. It was better than talking to one of their apes in armor.

However, the Count was in no mood for any formal talk. "Our two societies already have an accord, Princess Ozmeri of Velmor. Mandalore is Mandalore and Serenno is Serenno. If you have come to sample our wine and gracious hospitality, then you have received both in good amount. Now if there is nothing else that the Great Houses can do for you, then I trust you shall return to your homeland once you have finished your libations."

Hopefully his spy, Sabrina, had found her way around the premises. She was a nimble one, and he could trust her to follow orders and learn all she could without inflicting any casualties.

@[member="Countess of Báthory"] @[member="Ozmeri Gitana'ti"] @[member="Sabrina Kotass"] @[member="Count Morcus"]
 

Matreya

Well-Known Member
The man nodded and smiled in gratitude, "Thank you." Taking a long pull from the bottle, he handed it back as he turned his gaze to the side. Conversation amongst friends didn't involve him, especially talk of women. But when the topic returned to the mission at hand, Han'zel had to nod in agreement, he to wondered how things went.

Reaching slowly behind himself, he drew forth a dagger that to some lesser sized men, would be a short sword. Leaning against the wall, be began loosely rotating it back and forth around his hand. It was a Shadow Dagger, product of James Armor Companies, entirely made of neuranium and thus heavily balanced.

"As long as they help end the mission, it shouldn't matter. Then again, one cant help but wonder eh?" He said as he hurled the knife a little ways away from them to strike a wall. As he walked to retrieve the blade he called, "Probably a lot of posterior kissing, to much for my tastes though." He then returned the blade to its previous course of action, flipping end after end over his palm until he returned to his earlier position.

Reaching into his gear, he drew forth an odd looking hand rolled cigarette. It held a raunchy herbal scent, and appeared far greener than acceptable tobacco. None the less, in his lips it went, and then snapping his right thumb lit the match he held, to which the flame was placed against the tip.

Taking a deep inhale, he blew o's from his nostrils before once more hurling his knife, successfully planting it within an inch of his prior strike, "Damn. My aim's off." He muttered as he stepped to grab it once more.

@[member="Preliat Mantis"] @[member="Garrus Garon"]
 
Strider Garon wasn't seasoned in diplomacy, to be honest he was far out of his element as a fish would be out of water. But here he was, surrounding by Serennoan Nobles and cohorts. A familiar name stuck across, Lady deWinter, and that set a instant snarl to the mandalorian's inner anger but above and at face value he kept a cold face. Strider had a intensive past with the likes of deWinters, such to a point that it could be a distraction here.

He focused himself upon @[member="Count Aretine"] and the @[member="Countess of Báthory"] " We have not come here to pillage the Countess' wine cellar, tho I speak on behalf of those that are and thank you for your generous offer. But lets get straight to business ..." Strider paused making sure he had their attention before he dropped a bomb on their aristocratic sensibilities "I am here to demand a peaceful transition. The terms are very simple. Serenno and her people shall swear fealty and pay homage to mand'alor. In return, you will have full protection of the mandalorian forces. You keep your culture, you run your own planet. All we want is loyalty and a generous contribution of resources and manpower to continue to protect those in our borders and help with our advance."

Before any could snarl rhetoric babble in counter Strider would have to keep in all honest and enlighten the Nobles of the consequences of not accepting "If such terms are not met, this ruling council will be forfeit by either exile or execution. This beautiful planet will bare witness to the might of the mando'ade and no doubt you and your people will suffer harshly to those that resist. Either way, we will get what we want. The choice is simple, Accept and all you have to suffer is minor fluctuation in your income, Don't accept and blood will be spelt."

Maybe Strider could get use to diplomacy, it seemed easy to the warrior.
 
Sabrina listened to @Strider Garon, as he told the count`s his plans. It was ether his way, or he burn this beautiful planet to ground, as he spoke a slight tear ran down her eye. She new from that moment, the mandalorian empire had to be stopped. Even though she was new, to way of the force and to the galaxy, but she new one thing, these people where brutish thugs.

She listened intently, and she could hear is uncompromising tone. His attitude and negation skills, where no better than an child, give me what I want or I will hit you. She had work to do tonight, and know it was no longer an order, it was a pleasure to help the House of Artine. She new her actions, if caught would be simply, explained off as rouge sith. As she was unknown to anyone else, but the count himself, and she did expect him to help her, if she was caught. As that would put his position, and his planet at risk, from these barbarians.

The now a few noticeable tars on face, as she put hand up to wipe them off, this was good though. As if she caught, she use him as the reason she did this, and not her masters. She could use this moment to protect them, form reprisals, from the mandalorian dogs.
@Countess of Báthory @Ozmeri Gitana'ti @Count Morcus@Count Aretine
 
@[member="Strider Garon"]

"This is coercion." Auron Stross muttered, having been lingering on the outskirts of the conversation and meeting for a while now. He was accompanied solely by a Protocol Droid. It was one of the older models, naught but a 3P0. However, it was doing exactly what Stross intended for it to do, so it served its purpose well despite its advanced age.

If the Mandalorians thought the nobility of Serenno would sit idly by while their coffers were unlawfully pillaged and their constituents conscripted to fight someone else's war... Well, they were absolutely correct. For the time being, at least. Serenno had no military or navy capable of standing up to the Mandalorians. Surviving long enough to throw off the yoke of Mandalorian hooliganism would, unfortunately, have to involve temporarily acquiescing to Mandalorian demands. This way, the current government would remain intact. As opposed to being violently replaced with pro-Mandalorian puppets who would never dream of revolting.

"Blood will be spelt? Sheesh. Even when threatening innocents with destruction, the wordplay of a Mandalorian is surpassed by the youngest of Serennians. The word is spilled, dingus. Blood will be spilled. Phrase your threats properly. You're on Serenno. At least pretend to have some kind of dignity."

It was hard to take these people seriously if they could not speak properly, but Auron still knew the threat their military posed. Capitulating still didn't mean he had to be nice to them.

"Whatever. I suppose recognizing the authority of a gang of illiterates robs me of any ground to stand on in matters of dignity. What are the exact terms of this proposed capitulation? I want to see hard numbers. Official documents."
 
Strider imagined his beskad cutting @[member="Auron Stross"] head off cleanly and turning it into a hand puppet where the old hound would perform an act of ventriloquism, having Count Auron Stross recite the Serennoan anthem in Mando'a. The thought brought pleasure to Strider but the marshal had to concede on acting, he was here to 'negotiate' peacefully and such a brutal strike would serve no purpose. The count was much older then Strider, and wiser for it. He knew that submitting was their only choice here today. He had a little bark to him, was good for the show and dance.

Field Marshal Garon would look upon the elder noble "A 1% flat rate tax will be imposed on all the planet's transactions. The Serennoans will also, like all the planets with in our influence, have a chance to serve the Mandalorian forces freely. If.........and if called upon conscription could be and will be enforced."

Strider hoped that would satisfy the old man, hard documents would have to be produced and accounted for when they all come to a form of agreement.
 
@[member="Strider Garon"]

"A one percent flat tax on transactions?" Auron parroted, raising an eyebrow. That was almost too good to be true. "Fine. That's agreeable."

Even an old miser like Stross wasn't about to argue against a one percent flat tax. It could have been much, much worse. Those repulsive socialists in the Republic probably would have asked for more. And for what? The privilege of sending some self-serving politician to go sit in a big room filled with self-serving politicians so they could argue over why they weren't a theocracy. But only if the Jedi let them. Suddenly this Mandalorian association didn't seem like such a bad thing. Not that Stross still wanted it to transpire. The only thing better than a 1% flat tax was no flat tax. Kind of like the arrangement they had before these Visogoths had come to hammer at their gates.

"But how often is conscription called? Who is applicable to be forced into your ludicrous, illegal warmongering?"
 
Strider saw that he had caught the old man's attention with his more the fair demands. The mandalorians were brutes, there was no contesting that but it didn't mean the galactic curs didn't know how to be reasonable. "Conscription is rare, very rare, Count @[member="Auron Stross"]!" He would answer coldly, they haven't had to press any of the planet's warriors to service. The red legion has been comprised all of volunteers thus far, but the option is still open if the time was ever needed.

Strider would look about, waiting for the others in the delegation to pipe up. So far it has been Auron Stross that has voiced his opinion and wisdom for what was best for his people and for his pocket book.
 

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