Oh Lorrd [The Primeval Dominion of Lorrd]

[Krux Mullarus]

Objectice C: Hwat
Allies: Darth Azureahttp://starwarsrp.net/user/8454-darth-azurea/http://starwarsrp.net/user/8454-darth-azurea/ | Darth Pyrrhus | Dex Torture | Dex Torture Numero Dos
Enemies: Darth Zola(Succubus, lol)http://starwarsrp.net/user/6538-darth-zola/http://starwarsrp.net/user/6538-darth-zola/
Post 14 of 20

How kind that Azurea help him now when he did not feel he needed it. Mullarus stood up and met her gaze, assuming she would usher him to go help her apprentice, who certainly would be bested by the cultic woman he held his own against. Instead, her gaze flew past him to some markings upon the wall. How strange, Mullarus thought, Now that the other schutta's out of the way, distracted with the acolyte who cannot tell real Sith from dirt dwellers, perhaps we can actually learn something about the old slaves.

"Perhaps I can be of some assistance", Mullarus said, reaching his hand over and feeling the area with it. He had to remove his glove to get a better feel of it. Yes, there was definitely something metal there. Any fool could tell.

Well, if it were crafted by slaves, being accessed by the Force is probably not a possibility...

"What do you make of it?" He asked, glancing around curiously. Every now and then, he would glance back toward the swathe of gold and red behind them, Torture and Zola dueling. His interest had fallen from it. Still, if he wanted a good name with Azurea, he would rush to Torture's aid if he were certain to die. He would hope Zola would take pity on a young mind like Dex. He knew if he had held Zola's neck at the tip of his sword, he would have let her live. She showed great skill in their duel and courage in her willingness to fight. Both excellent qualities in such a young woman. In those ways, Mullarus admired her, but her mental invasion was one of dishonor.

But who is Mullarus to judge? A mere acolyte. He still has much to learn.

 

[Dex Torture]

Objective C: The Battle
Allies: |[member="Darth Azurea"] | [member="Mullarus"] |
Enemies: [member="Darth Zola"]
Post 4 of 20

[member="Darth Zola"] was obviously a skilled warrior and her quick dissection of Dex's simifuturus was almost uncanny. She rushed both apprentice as if being out numbered was an advantage point for her, sending [member="Mullarus"] flying with a focused repulse blast into a nearby wall all the while slashing her lightsaber downward into Dex's shoulder blade.

The red thermal blade burned into the soft flesh as easy as a hot knife to butter, sending a wave of pain to every neuron in Dex's brain. Dex jumped a few steps backwards and quickly examined his left arm, it was nearly severed off only a few muscles held it to the rest of his body.

"Well... You're going to have to do better than that" Dex jestered as his arm healed back to its original state, he skimmed over to mullarus who was now standing behind their master, his face showed no intent of interference.

"So I guess I'll go this one alone" he thought as he ignited the gold blade and once again entered his juyo stance. "My turn" spoke dex as he rushed towards his enemy , if she wanted head on battle, head on battle would be what she received.

As the clone illusion dissipated, acolyte torture force pulled his vibro sword off of the ground and placed it back in its position on his back, all while launching his initial attack. He knew he had to unarm Zola as quickly as possible so he slashed his saber blade diagonally towards the dark jedi's stomach if it landed he would be ecstatic , but honestly it was just a distraction as he fluidly flowed into a roundhouse aimmed at her wrist.

 

[50H31]

Objective: Keep some semblance of sanity
Location: A rather corpse-filled meeting room
Present: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="Mikkel Markov"] [member="Mishk"] [member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="Jun Nez"] [member="Orkamaat"] [member="The Traveler"]




Five-oh was more than a little annoyed with the utter chaos this meeting had devolved into. So many dead bodies, so few strategic assets. All because no one could control their emotions. Unfortunate, the contemplative droid calculated his new odds. Waht a nuisance. He would need to reinforce his offer.


"Darth Voracitos, correct?" He said with a nod to the large, purple, debauched pile of human grotesquerie before him. "If I were to take a guess, your assets were likely seized at some point after your presumed demise," he said dryly. "It will take tiem to recover yoru assets. Since Rassan's not getting out of this meting alive anyway, I suggest you stay at his residence until we can get it sorted. I'm sure I can fidn at least one lawyer on this planet who doesn't revile the idea of helping you regain your considerable estate," he said, not even flinching. While most Organics probably view Voracitos as somethign horrid and alien, he was not all that peculiar to Five-oh. Not yet, anyway.


Rassan stood up. "I will negotiate."


"I'm afraid not," the droid continued. "Allowing you to live after yoru failed little coup here--that sense the wrong message to all parties involved. However, the Lord Mendicant, Master of Healing, will take your position as the new Sage and Leader of Lorrrd."

Hassan, naturally foudn this arrangment not to his liking. "How dare you! I have given my life--"


"--and now you shall give your death," he said succinctly. "Your arrogance, and it's punishment, will serve a reminder to prevent further rebellion. You will not leave this room alive, unfortunately." He gestured calmly to the Primevil's delgation. "Nubmer among those here are deadly, dangerous, and wildly unpredictable people. You used your one chance to prevent your life and failed miserably. The Master of Healing will negotiate. You will die. The Lord Commander, who called in sick, was liekly a co-conspirator, and is also liekly plotting an ambush," he said calmly.



"Today, there will be a surender, and peace," he said calmly. "Several of the people before you have brought entire worlds to ruin alone--there is no fighting this collaborative effort to conquer the region. I will presume legal procedures for the peaceful surrender of the planet, you will sign them, and then--then we shall begin discussing a punishment for Rassan," he then nodded to the Purple-robed Sith again as he finished his address to the Lorrdian healer. "I do not care if your avarice was a danger to the empire or not. What matters is the now. Now, you are a threat. Now, you are a tactical disadvatnage to the people of Lorrrd. However, I wish to know what you think of the terms. I am offerign the restoration of your considerable fortune, legally. In exchange, I only ask that you refrain from slaughtering or destroying Lorrdian assets without due cause," he said calmly.


"As to the remainder of you," he said, Addressing Anja and her allies without so much as a gesture other than facing towards them. "You are welcome to the Lore of this planet, and a position of governance alongside the council of Wise Masters. When sufficient proof has been offered that your leadership is in conjunction with the will of the Lorrdian people, we can hold an appropriate referendum on allowing agencies of the Primeval to consolidate some levels of governance of the planet. However, I would ask that at least some measure of autonomy be maintained for the time being--a slow transition is better for the planet's wealth and it's people, and would certainly reduce the chances of more rebellions popping up. After all, what is the point in conquest if there are none left to savor it?"



Even for a professional propagandist, this was a hell of an elevator pitch. The Obese Sith and the dramatic man in the armor had thrown off the strategy substantially, but the lot of them could be reasoned with. For a pound of flesh, at this point, but still, reason.


The yellow-robed healer stood up. "So then, Fassan will perish? In what manner?"



Fassan yelled some series of Lorrdian obscenities, half of which were obscene gestures and hooting noises that only Lorrdians, and even then only fairly crass ones, would recognize. "I curse the lot of you! Selling a planets soil and soul for a little blood? Cowards!"


The robot monk shook his head, walked over to Fassan, and punched him in the throat once. He then pinned the stunned man to a chair and tied him with his own sash. "I suggest you quit being rude. I am trying to keep your death from being too cruel, after all."


He turned back to the table. A few of the learned masters were horrified, a few other quiet, but obviously begrudgingly accept the new situation. The only thing standing between this world and annihilation was the hope that a moody robot in silk monk's clothing had just convinced an apparently cannibalistic and evidently homicidal Sith Alchemist that holding his psychotic tendencies at bay would allow him to regain a portion of his previous wealth and decadence.


Not a great day for the ideals of peace and wisdom, when a fool's gambit kept the butcherous mess of war at bay.

 

[Setzi Lunelle]

Objective C: Find something shiny
Allies: [member="Dex Torture"] [member="Mullarus"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Zola"]
Posts: 7/20

Mullarus was also now attracted to the unusual object that lay within the stone walls. Darth Azurea's curiosity peaked, and she barked out an order to Pyrrhus's apprentice: "Cover me, please. And stay alert!" Then she muttered, "I wouldn't put it past that succubus to attack us when our backs are turned."

The dark-haired man may return to Glee Anselm with complaints of Azurea's treatment, however she doubted [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] would have much sympathy at all. Pity was not something that lay within him in abundance, but the brunette Sith Knight rarely sought it herself. As he was well aware, she would rather die than become a pitiful creature who needed constant reassurance and support.

Moving the stone blocks would prove difficult. She wasn't sure she could explode them with Telekinesis. Nor did she think she had a dagger strong enough to get in there and wedge whatever lay between the stones out.

Darth Azurea ignited her lightsaber, backed up slightly, and as though a sculptor with a marble figure, chipped away at the stone until she was able to retrieve was she sought.

It was not a Sith or a Jedi holocron, probably to Mullarus's disappointment. Nor was it a magical relic.

In her hands she now held a datapad, quite modern. The Sith Knight tapped at it, and it sprang to life, asking her for a password.

Of course it would. Why would something which lay deep in the Slave Pits of Lorrd, tucked away between two stones in a strange, mystical chamber NOT be encrypted.

She turned to Mullarus. "Would you know how to slice into this, by chance?" Azurea asked. She thought about the last time she tried to slice, which was ripping the transponder out of her own starship. Unfortunately, she did more damage there than help and the Pirate's Foe was in the repair shop for weeks after her wayward handiwork left it too damaged to fly.

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Objectice C: *Puts on 1337h4xor glasses*
Allies: [member="Darth Azurea"] | [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] | [member="Dex Torture"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Zola"] (Succubus, lol)
Post 15 of 20

The young man said nothing to Azurea's command to cover her. Of all people, he was the most used to being given orders and never any praise or sympathy. These were things given to the Jedi, and Mullarus would rather perish than ever be compared to one of those ignorant hypocrits.

Mullarus watched Zola and Torture duel nearby. Like Azurea, Mullarus had a feeling in his gut that she wouldn't mind abandoning her duel with Dex to attack the two of them while their backs are turned, but the naive side of him hoped she would not. Not after how skillful she had proven herself. He wouldn't want what shred of respect he had for her to diminish.

Suddenly, Azurea shoved a datapad into his arms and asked if he could slice it.

Well, Mullarus would admit he was no technical genius, but he knows a bit about getting into places on a computer where you aren't supposed to. Mostly from datapads, actually. He has to hook a datapad up to his implants in his body to check on them from time to time. He recently had to do so to get a self-disgnostic after Darth Pyrrhus nearly fried them with Force Lightning.

"I can give it a shot"

Let's see...this key does this...and this...uh...turns it on and...off. Whoops

Mullarus grinned nervously as he accidentally shut the datapad off. After switching it back on, he punched a series of buttons until a command console-like application appeared.

Hey, how convenient. Accessing the console is the same as my datapad

From here, he seemed to have little trouble pulling up some technical info about the datapad. He searched for a way to either access the password or get around it.

A light bulb appeared above his head. Now that I have to try...

Mullarus took a small cord out of his pocket and plugged it into the datapad, and the other end he stuck into his robe and plugged into a small port on the side of his chest. Normally, this is where he hooks himself up to perform those diagnostics, but today, it was time to improvise.

Mullarus hit more keys, then laughed. "Hah! It worked!"

He unplugged himself and turned to Azurea, "So I couldn't bypass security. Password was too long. I did, however, trick the system to thinking it was backing up it's content to another computer...

He couldn't help but snicker, "Specifically, the cybernetic implant here on my left bicep contains the information we seek now. I can pull it up on mine."

For once, being a cyborg came in handy.

Mullarus took his own datapad, a similar model, out of his pocket, accessed the hidden "backup" files in his left bicep, and handed the datapad to Azure with a big, stupid grin on his face.

 

[Jun Nez]

5 of 20
Objective: A
Location: Next to Anja
[member="Mishk"] [member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Mikkel Markov"] [member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="Orkamaat"] [member="The Traveler"] [member="50H31"]

The robot seemed to make some sense, however, he could come to be a problem. Jun Nez had scanned several weak points on the robot, and were ready to shoot this all too logical thing down if needed. Meanwhile Jun Nez received the transmission from Mikkel, using his in-suit communicator, he responded. Because of the technology inside the armour, normal people would hear only a whisper as he said:

10808888888 1080888880 100880 1088 10808888888 . 1080808888880 108880 10 1080808888880 1080808888888888 . 10808880 1088 1088 1080888888 . 1088 108080888888880 1080808888880 10808888888 10 108 1080808888880 108888 1080888880 108088888 . 108 10808888 1080888880 108088888880 1088 1080808888888888 . 10808088888888 1088 . 108088880 108888 100880 108880 1080808888880 . 108088888 1088 1088 1008 . 108888 1080808888880 . 108088888880 1080888880 1080888880 108088888 10808088888888880
Where after he returned to his guarding spot next to Anija and awaited her reaction.

 

[Setzi Lunelle]

Objective C: Find something shiny
Allies: [member="Dex Torture"] [member="Mullarus"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Zola"]
Posts: 7/20

Darth Azurea watched Mullarus adroitly slice into the datapad, while the duel between Darth Zola and Apprentice Torture went on behind them. This was certainly an interesting development. Mullarus was a cyborg.

“Quite versatile, aren’t you?” the Sith Knight said with a smile. “That cybernetic implant comes in handy, I bet.” Although she wasn’t completely unconvinced now that Mullarus wasn’t an HRD or nearly all-mechanical. “Does [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] know?” she asked.

After he handed her back the datapad, she examined the unlocked, unencrypted contents. The designs of a starship appeared on her screen. She tapped through the different visuals and engineering blueprints, which looked quite advanced to her inexpert eyes. This would be a small prize to bring back with her and she suddenly felt protective of her find.

But she couldn’t leave her Firrerreo apprentice behind. Nor Mullarus.

Addressing Darth Zola, she shouted in a loud voice: “Have you had enough of these fledgling darksiders to satiate your lust for battle?”

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Objectice C
Allies: [member="Darth Azurea"] | [member="Dex Torture"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Zola"]
Post 16 of 20

At the mention of his master, Mullarus briefly recalled his last training session with him, in which Pyrrhus' Force Lightning shorted out every implant in his body, causing the pain he felt to be multiplied. So...

"No", he said, his voice a bit quieter, "I don't reckon he does."

As she examined whatever appeared on the datapad's screen, he peeked his head around and took a look as well. Like her, he didn't understand the details, but the ship design looked quite cool, he thought.

"Shall I go assist Torture?", he asked. For whatever reason, Mullarus felt he wanted to get further onto Darth Azurea's good side. There was something about her he liked. Beyond just being considerably beautiful, he felt there was a part of her he had yet to meet.

Maybe he was just paranoid.

 

[Lord Ajihad]

[4/20]

Objective: 1
Location: Council Room
Allies: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="The Traveler"] [member="Jun Nez"] [member="Mishk"] [member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Mikkel Markov"] [member="50H31"] [member="Orkamaat"]
Enemies: Fassan

The Demon's Fist had just finished locking the door, when the Host Lord began to speak. He listened intently as she spoke, and his eye widened upon hearing of the imposter. Other than that, the assassin showed no emotion. Inside, however, anger was boiling. How could he have been so foolish as to fall for this? It was downright unprofessional! He would have to do better than that next time...​

​

His cybernetic eye swept over the room, scanning the surviving 'Council Members.' He doubted the rulers of Lorrd had sent all imposters, as it would raise the chances of their trap being discovered. After a minute of scanning, his cybernetic eye found a match for a councilman. Johannes Wilkinson, head of the department of the treasury. The assassin stormed over to him, lifting him by the collar. He threw the man onto the table, and flicked open his hidden blade. Without even giving the man a chance to repent, he began carving out his nose.​

​

The fat man thrashed and screamed, but Ajihad was a strong man. He easily held the treasurer down as he went through with the gruesome task. When he was done, Johannes was done screaming. He was whimpering at this point, only half conscious. His mangled nose lay mangled on the table next to him, and blood covered the area. Ajihad sheathed his hidden blade, and dragged the man over in front of the hulking form of Darth Voracitos. Of the people gathered in the room, he could not think of one more well cut-out to glean information on Fassan's whereabouts from the bloody treasurer before them...​

 

[The Traveler]

Objective: A
Location: Meeting room.
Allies: Jun Nezhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/8470-jun-nez/http://starwarsrp.net/user/8470-jun-nez/ | 50H31 | Mishk | The Traveler Anja Aj'Rou Orkamaa Darth Voracitos
Enemies: N/A
[05/20]

The Traveler growled as he removed his blade from [member="Darth Voracitos"] disgusting, gelatinous and folded neck. In a swift motion that had the elegance of a flower riding the wind he returned it to its scabbard and turned his gaze towards the glutinous sloth. " In due time we shall finish this, but for now... the task that is at hand takes priority over riding the galaxy of your filth" he said calously and coldly, the metallic reverberation of his voice modulator adding its metallic edge to the words. He would make good on his promise in due time enough.

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"] " Host Lost, I suggest we send the sloth before us to clear the way of traps. His fat will keep him insulated from the damage, if not he will burn like a candle and light the way to our holy task. For our parts in this dance shall not be over until we have secured for the gods their will upon Lorrd and claimed its cornicopia of knowledge for the Primeval" he said doing his best to fake interest in the religion of his peers. It was true that he was no worshiper or follower of any religion or code save his own that only he knew, but when one associated with zealots one must appease their minds lest they turn on you.

He reached to his sides and drew a pair of slug thrower pistols and peered down the hallway.

 

[Boethiah]

Objective: A
Location: Meeting room.
Allies: [member="Jun Nez"] | [member="The Traveler"] | [member="Orkamaat"] | [member="Darth Voracitos"] | [member="50H31"] | [member="Lord Ajihad"] | [member="Mikkel Markov"]
Enemies: N/A
[07/20]

It seemed everyone was playing their part. The droid had dealt with one of the imposters, the assassin had slain a cowardly man, and the masked man came up with a rather interesting suggestion. Anja turned her gaze to Voracitos, "If you don't disagree with this suggestion, you could go first." She didn't normally take part in such confrontations but something about The Traveler's attitude towards Voracitos was amusing.

Turning to Jun Nez, "Is something wrong elsewhere?" Her question was a comment towards the electronic message he was sending. The Primeval had its people everywhere across the world, who knew what these imposters would do to them if they discovered their location. Perhaps they would do nothing.

Regardless, whoever was calling the shots clearly didn't want any of them to survive this encounter. The Host Lord wasn't interested in sitting around too long, lest they discover that their initial plan failed. Although it seemed almost too sloppy... Did they actually expect to catch them off guard? Why not set up a bomb in the room instead, or better yet--ambush them in the space port? It wasn't like there was an invasion force above, if they wanted to take out the delegation they had far better methods available to them.

 

[Jun Nez]

6 of 20
Objective: A
Location: Next to Anja
[member="Mishk"] [member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Mikkel Markov"] [member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="Orkamaat"] [member="The Traveler"] [member="50H31"]

"Our external backup was shortly compromised, it seems this was the plan all along. We should be careful moving forward, it might prove dangerous and difficult.". He said while watching the show [member="Lord Ajihad"] had put on. It reminded Jun Nez of how he was born into the world of independence. The two siths had stopped playing macho, which were fortunate for them, because Jun Nez would had soon tired of their independent actions and ended both of their lives promptly. This wasn't a time for independent actions and politics, this was a time for cooperation in the Primeval empire to further its reach towards glorious infinite expanse. He continued: "I have arranged for a quick escape in the form of our external backup, if needed.". He then nodded and moved over to the now broken window. While keeping his eyes on the siths, the robot and the scared diplomats hulking and shaking in their chairs.

This vast world of information and community didn't seem aware of the current situation of the room. They continued on with their lives, unbeknowing that at any moment, Anja could send message for an invasion force to leave the Primeval homeworld. The planet would burn and the lives and communities would be forced into labour and exile, while the shredders and legions begun forcefully gathering the information and systematically taking control on all the important sectors, until the people had no choice but to give up and accept their new overlords. Of course, all this could be prevented in the remaining lords of Lorrd would just cooperate. He directed one of his scanners towards the earlier location of Mikkel, hoping to gather some information on the situation. He then continued to watch the proceedings of meeting room.

 

[Darth Voracitos]

Objective A
Location: Within the Conference Room engaging in a colossal meltdown.
People: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Mikkel Markov"], [member="Lord Ajihad"], [member="Orkamaat"], [member="50H31"], [member="Jun Nez"], [member="The Traveler"], [member="Mishk"]
Post 6/20

A sordid rumbling in the mouth of Voracitos resembled a soft laughter, listening the droid while his aggressor submitted to authority, removing his blade from his flesh, which promptly stitched itself together as red tendrils of the force gently caressed the one known as Fassan, sucking up an ounce of his life force to add to his own, before the wrench was ripped away by the droid. It took a moment for the Obese Lord to stop chuckling, before he could compose himself. His vulture like eyes were long to break their gaze from the Traveler, and be placed upon the droid.

"My fortune? The fortune I inherited from my father, who inherited it from his father? The fortune I grew over the course of half a century, as an interstellar Crime Lord, and the director of the Corporate Sector Authority? The fortune that I inherited in claiming the Throne of the Sith Empire that dominated this space?" The laughter became very real now, and interrupted him enough with such jubilant laughter his eyes closed, and an amused tear began to well in one eye, one which he wiped away carelessly. His face eventually settled to a smile, before he continued to speak.

"It is your own folly, if you wish to further enslave your people to me. The debt you would amass to me alone, would indenture the entirety of this world in my favor, forfeiting any measure of independence from my gargantuan will. Anything I asked of you might remove a small drop of the wealth you would owe me, and by law in the interest of upholding your promise to me, I would collect those 'favours' as a nigh-inexhaustible currency. On the condition that should I ever face demise a second time, you would continue to amass my former fortune until its completion... and if by then I am not yet resurrected, you must bury it..." His smile grew into almost unnatural proportions against his sickeningly fat face. "In the Slave Pits of Lorrd."

A harrowing laughter escaped him, before he concluded his soon-to-be written legal will, with a simple statement.

"On that 'condition' alone, I accept." With a knowing grin, his 'negotiations' concluded, as the Assassin offered him a bloody prize, similar to how a dog offered a bloody trinket to its horrified master... though this master was far from being horrified. The Host Lord seemed to agree that it would be Voracitos to lead the charge, seeming quite amused with herself of the Traveler's thoughts on him. Rolling his eyes, he said simply.

"Of course, let the fattest man in the room get stuck in the next door, and trap you all in. I was the traitor all along, this was the brilliant trap the Lorrdians setup for you Primeval. Game over, you lose." After an awkward moment of silence following his rather uncharacteristic sarcasm, his eyes resorted once more to rolling. "I'm joking, you dull dry grains of rice." In the next moment his hand was raised, and Johannes Wilkinson minus his nose lifted in the air, whimpering a bit more passionately now as he felt the restricting power of the Gluttonous Lord's grip, before his head began to thrash and convulse, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as blood poured from his nose. In moments, the body dropped, slumped to the ground, nearly dead, hardly breathing. Probably would die in a few minutes without proper medical attention. After all, he wasn't allowed to kill him according to his agreement. That's how agreements worked right? Bend them over your knee, so you 'technically' follow instructions while blatantly working around them?

That's what Voracitos treated agreements.

"Disgusting this man, his intellect is unbefitting of this world. I am aware of the whereabouts of the rest of the Lorrdian leadership, or at least, as aware as he was."

 

[50H31]

Location: A room full of dangerous hostile people
Objective: Don't get killed by any of them
Those present: [member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Jun Nez"][member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="The Traveler"] [member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="Mishk"] [member="Mikkel Markov"] [member="Orkamaat"]


That had not been the deal. He had promised him the lawyer and Fassan's life--not the entire planet. He had to remember to kill this bloated buffoon when it was convenient. "To begin with, they are not my people--I am not liable as something other than a negotiator." the robot said. "The burial condition, however, will be respected. Your assets on this planet, when measured by the lawyer assigned to your case, will be handled in perpetuity upon your likely demise," he said dryly. He managed to ignore the fact that the supposed debt--regardless of its massive size--would take years to calculate and catalog, much less enforce.



Five-oh was many things, according to the situation. Jocular was rarely on that list. He looked to the remainder of the room. "Anyone else who would like to negotiate with me should actually listen to what is being said, both in inference and implication. I keep my bargains, and you should all pay some attention to that," he said calmly. He shot a look to Voracitos. "Do not trigger the door yet. It is trapped. Everyone with an exposed respiratory system should put on a re-breather, now." He began removing them form his satchel and setting them on the table. "Originally, the plan was to flood the room with Neurotoxin. I changed that to a mild sedative two days ago, so the re-breathers should assist you, and knock out the people who will try to kill us, as they did not have the proper calibrations on their re-breathers. That should prevent too much force being implement, making escape possible," he said gently, as if he was trying to teach more than drill.



He nodded. "Now, Voracitos, you are likely more safe to advance," he said calmly. As convenient as turning traitor would be at this moment, he had made a deal, and he would abide by it. He would ensure negotiations arrived smoothly, at this point. Now, how long he remained loyal to the work of these lunatics, that was a matter of debate. Even though he did have a deal to keep with this Voracitos, now . That would remain interesting, he hoped. Maybe not truly enlightening, but interesting. Still the mad mechanical monk had his methods.



He Slowly walked over, standing behind the hungry, sadistic creature that claimed dominion so eagerly. He gestured towards the self-proclaimed Host-lord. "Tell me, Lady Aj'Rou," he said with a curious lilt to his voice, "What motivates your actions? What promises brought your eyes to this world?" The question was a test of character as much as anything else. They had already established superiority in might, but that was not enough. Five-oh needed to understand a superiority of will as well.

 

[Dex Torture]

Objective C
Allies |[member="Darth Azurea"]| [member="Mullarus"]|
Enemies: Darth Zola
Post 5 of 20

Simultaneously as [member="Darth Azurea"] pressed buttons on the datapad the red blade of the lightsaber gracefully met its mark or so Dex thought as he stood there confounded, his blade burning bright inside of Darth Zola's stomach and she phased in and out of visibility.

"What kind of sith magic is this?" questioned Dex as Zola seemed to glitch a few more times, he wondered if he had feel into some sort of mind trick. The amount of power and focus would have to be superb in order to pull off such a feat and the main question would be, how long had he been under the spell?

Suddenly breaking his trace a loud sequence of alarming sounds erupted from the datapad Master Azurea was attempting to jailbreak and right before his eyes Zola disappeared!

"What the in the kirk is going on in here?" Dex knew he wasn't the only one confused as he turned and shared glances with is master and fellow apprentice [member="Mullarus"] who both also wore the same look of bewilderment.

Dex thought back to when he initially entered the pit, he was sure that he saw acolyte mullarus land a direct blast of force lighting into Zola and she as well had fired off a blast of force repulse at him as well, how could she just be a hologram? The likes of technology that advanced surpassed his knowledge, but he couldn't discredit what his very own eyes had just seen. "Can anyone explain to me what the hell is going on in here?" stated dex as he powered off his saber and walked over to reunite with his master, the datapad she carried held all the answers and apparently many secrets!

 

[Zak Dymo]

Post 7 of 20
Location: Ruins of Frezen, Industrial Sector
Objective: Getting Caught Up with Posts

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D4aUcOOaOFw​

The small Pantoran slipped along a scaffolding which trailed up and along the far wall of the warehouse.

Work was being done to reinforce the structure, ostensibly to better shield against adverse weather. Except the duracrete reinforced metal plating was more than a little extreme against a tornado. They were converting the warehouse into a bunker, and reinforcing it against military-grade munitions.

The vast majority of the workers inside seemed to put up the facade of this being a shipping company, but the boy's eyes still picked out the butt of a blaster sticking out from the backs of several of trousers. For the most part, lightly armed for this to be a rebel base. Which was when he noticed the pair standing guard near a silo-like structure in the center of the warehouse. They wore armored vests underneath their jackets, and were holding repeating blasters. Tenloss from the look of them, or perhaps Merr-Sonn.

Using the frame of the scaffolding as a gymnast would the uneven or parallel bars, the blue-skinned youth vaulted, shimmied, and slid underneath the catwalks as he crossed toward the middle of the warehouse. Passing through shadows in a blur of motion and speed, his presence unnoticed as he shielded himself from view through the Force. Creeping across the factory floor, the boy ducked out and around heavy machinery as he positioned himself around and behind where the guards stood vigil before the lift.

The sound of the lightsaber was drowned out by the grinding whirl of the duracrete mixers, echoing off the ceiling to fill the warehouse with noise. The briefing flash of red light snapped into view, followed by a red haze as human blood was superheated and evaporated into a mist. As the two bodies hit the floor, the boy moved up to the front of the lift. With a wave of his hand, he used the Force to break the seal on the door. The two halves sliding back to reveal a dark chasm which led into an inky black abyss of the unknown.

Stepping inside, the boy swung one leg over to where a maintenance ladder ran up the side of the shaft. As he swung his body over onto the lattice steps, a second wave of his hand shut the doors behind him. And then he started the climb down.

Basement sub-level one. Lingerie, housewares, and terrorists.

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Objectice C
Allies: Darth Azureahttp://starwarsrp.net/user/8454-darth-azurea/http://starwarsrp.net/user/8454-darth-azurea/ | Dex Torture
Enemies: Darth Zola?
Post 17 of 20

Mullarus put on a look of confusion as Darth Zola seemed to just...dissapear. That was, after she seemed to phase around like a glitched...hologram.

He rose a brow, "What in the Force? Don't tell me that woman was..." He turned to Azurea, "Was this some kind of test?" His indigo eyes burned with curiosity. He halfway hoped it was a test, because he felt he really would have kicked it's arse if it was.

After pinning the question to Azurea, he turned to Dex, "I must admit, that was some impressive fighting you did. You're quite handy with that saberstaff."

 

[Zak Dymo]

Post 8 of 20
Location: Ruins of Frezen, Industrial Sector
Objective: Eliminate the Vianist Terror Group

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4SWcHm90X0​

A shower of sparks marked the arc of plasma, a circle of red-hot metal forming in the roof of the lift.

As the line came full circle, the section of roof collapsed to the ground. Halted just an inch above the floor by some invisible Force, which then gently set it so that no further sound was heard. The slender Pantoran's body slid through the opening, dropping into the lift with the preternatural grace of a cat. A wave of his hand marked the opening of the lift doors, as the young agent pressed himself against the inside of the doorframe whilst amber eyes peered into the recess of the corridor outside.

Thick power cables ran along the walls. The echo of steel work and construction resonating from all directions. Libellus Sanguinis was constructing an underground bunker. A secret rebel base from which to undermine the Lorrd government. And, by extension, would challenge the Primeval.

It seemed that the Bleeding Sun had been correct about its assumptions of this group as more than capable of surviving the onslaught of Lorrd government drone strikes. Libellus Sanguinis was like mold. It thrived in the dark places where few eyes dared peek.

The boy drew his lightsaber from off his belt. The bunker was blacked out a moment later as the power was severed, plunging the interior into darkness -- interrupted by brief flashes of pale illumination as emergency systems and battery back-ups struggled to come alive.

They would have the power restored in moments, but it was time enough for the boy to move unseen through the shadows. He didn't need 'light' to see. Guided instead by the Force, and speeding through the corridors with an uncanny dexterity, allowing him to slip through the confused workers and guards inside the tunnels.

"Get the foreman here at once. I warned him what would happen..."

A voice in the wilderness. Back tracking slightly, the boy diverted down a passage he'd nearly journeyed past. That voice had authority behind it. As the Pantoran exited the end of the passage, he ducked down just inside of the door to look around a vast, circular room. A man stood in the center, attended by guards and a handful of workers mulling about the various workstations. Some dark. Some still illuminated.

In that faint light, he could make out the hawk-ish features of Montblanc Jedediah Zeal.

The Shepherd.

With a wave of his hand, the boy hit the control panel recessed into the wall behind him. A heavy blast door sealing off the room from the bunker. Two blaster shots rang out shortly after, as the bodies of the two guards hit the floor. As the echo of the blaster fire registered in the man's mind, pivoting to see what was happening behind him, a third shot lanced through the back of the man's left knee, dropping him to the ground. The workers, confused, only now realized the need to scream.

"Mister Zeal."

The young timbre echoed through the make-shift war room, as the blue-skinned agent vaulted through the air. A red blade ignited in mid-air, held out and behind him in a distinctive Shien grip as the former Sith assassin landed on cat-like feet to approach his kneeling target.

"The Host Lord of the Primeval sends her regards."

 

[Brooke Waters]

Her mind was made up. She was going to work to move some Bright Star pieces and parts to Lorrd. It would be good, for both the company and the Primeval. Working around this world would help bring a lot of profits to her company, and maybe she could show the Primevals that it was okay to have victory parties that were both catered and had hot and cold running water. Maybe even a change of clothes. Showing up in what she wore under her armor? Or in her armor? That was kind of really lame. But this? Well, it would help.

But she needed to put the datapad away. Looking up, the show was about to start. How was that for an objective? Only one there, right? Where she was waiting for the show to start, and it began as the thread closed?

She had heard a lot about this performance. It was about a great hero of the Republic and the Rebellion that followed, the old one, nearly 900 years previous. She was very excited to hear about this story, she loved to learn, and through a medium such as this? That was never a bad thing. Entertainment and education, maybe that would be Bright Star’s theme for its Lorrd resort.

 

[Zak Dymo]

Post 9 of 20
Location: Lorrd City Spaceport
Objective: Back to school

"Didn't think I'd see you back here, kid."

Officer Mieke Halon was back behind the kiosk, manning the customs and immigration section that was monitoring the outgoing flow of traffic. The young Pantoran stood there, waiting to have his identicard verified before venturing out to make his flight off Lorrd. He had tickets aboard a civilian cruiser departing from Docking Bay Seventeen, bound for Laekia. In truth, he was departing from Docking Bay Six. A private transport, the Moldy Mynock out of Lothal.

The Moldy Mynock being a false id code for the Equinox. A Sienar Systems Star Courier registered out of Bastion, which was the boy's actual destination. He'd debrief the mission, then head back to Oswaft Station from Primeval space.

The Silver Sanctum Coalition student visa passed across the top of the counter. Officer Halone ran the credentials, coming up the same as they had before. An assortment of half truths and lies assembled by the Bleeding Sun to provide the boy cover for assignments such as this.

Taking his identicard and bidding farewell to Officer Halone, the boy shoved his hands down into his pockets as he made his way through the spaceport.

For all intents and purposes, just a student on a study break.

It would be weeks before the Lorrd government caught onto the trail of clues. And well over a month before the media would release the story that Shepherd Zeal was dead. The prevailing assumption would be that rival factions within Libellus Sanguinis eventually led to a breakdown in the inner circle. A mutiny, most likely headed by one of Zeal's own lieutenants.

No one would know that the Bleeding Sun had been present.

People would believe the lie. And life on Lorrd would continue. Somewhat safer for the loss of a group such as Libellus Sanguinis. Perhaps another in the organization would try to take Zeal's place. But the Primeval were here now. They would be watching.

And they would be waiting.

And they would return.