Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Running Like A Blind Tatoo-rat- Open to Darkwire and Denon Underworld, Ask First Before Posting

Sergeant Omen

Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps

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TAG: @ Peyton Steele Peyton Steele

In one of Denon's many corporate towers:
Owen Gates looked at his office out onto the beautiful city he called home, or at least the upper sections of the city that is. The lower portions he probably couldn't step in without being shot by "revolutionaries" as they loosey called themselves, or what they really were, anarchists that wanted to tear this whole planet down into the abyss with them. Oh, how he hated the mention of the in the lower levels who probably just sit on the couch doing nothing all day if it wasn't for him and other corporations giving them jobs. As the executive was mulling over the idea of just firebombing the lower levels to make them inhabitable to all life, a knock could be heard on his door. "Yes come in." His secretary walked him and presented him with a datapad with a video on its surface. "I thought you would want to see this first Sir." The video started showing the back of the 54th percent police station. After a few moments, an explosion rocked the camera as something blew a hole in the station's walls and two figures ran out, one male and female. Owen's eyes went wide as the camera zoomed in on the male, it showed the figure's face to be that of a clone, not any clone mind you but one of those clones that had fought 800 years ago. As Owen glanced about the room at all of his Clone Wars Artifacts, he could only think about how much need the clone to complete his collection. Oh, he needed him preserved in carbonite right in Phase II armor right now. "Where is he now?" The secretary scrolled through her notes on the datapad. "Most likely in the undercity, trying to keep hidden until he can get off-world. The course of action Sir?" Owen thought for a moment before answering this all-important question, thinking through his options about how best to claim his prize. "I want him taken alive, lets put a 1 million credit bounty on him, that should be enough to get everyone's attention. I want posters, ads, and whatever else you can think of to let everyone on this planet know that this criminal is loose and dangerous. Send out our personal retrieval teams after him to take no chance that he escapes." The security-only disinterestedly nodded at her boss's request. "It will be done sure, you next have a meeting with the mayor about tearing down those slums near the Red Light district in half an hour." The exec only nodded, imagining all the poses he could put the clone in. It really would be hard narrowing it down to one. "Of course, I'll prepare for it, now leave me be." With a curt nod, the secretary lacked out of the room in her heels, giving Owen a nice view of her rear in her tight skirt. But his mind was on other things than tail right now. His eyes were on a clone collectible and he would not rest till he had the soldier in his grasp.

In the Cites Underworld:
Omen pushed through the underworld of Denon, making his way, slowly but surely towards the spaceport where his ship was parked. He really didn't want to keep going like this in the underworld where he only knew the general direction to the spaceport using landmarks. It had already taken a couple of days to get this far and most of the credits the clone had hidden away in his arm. The women he had escaped with had left to rot as soon as they got far away enough as soon as they got in the clear. How she could run that fast in 6-inch heels he would never know but he did know that if he didn't get off this planet soon, it would be a long and embarrassing ordeal for the SJC to go through just to get his freedom. If he could just get off-world and back to Kashyyyk, everything would be okay. Just then he spotted two policemen put up a poster through the dirty cloak's hood that he was wearing. He had bought the garment from a random passerby to make him more fit in better here in the underworld. As the policemen moved on, he came over to see what the poster said. To the clone's surprise and horror, he saw his own face on it. The title read "Escaped Mad Clone, Extremely Dangerous". While the title drew him in, the picture of his face and the words "Reward: 1,000,000 credits" shocked him to his core. "Nerf!" He needed to get off this planet face before the news spread so much that the laundromat ladies were gossiping about it. He crumped up the poster and tossed it in an unused alleyway before pushing on at a brisk walk with renewed vigor, wanting to get to his ship before the ARC was trapped on this forceforsaken planet for good.​
 
There had been a bit more to conversations that Peyton was having with the Starchaser clan as of late. She was learning more about what her gifts actually were. The Nabooian was trained in a lot of different weaponry and skills, as an Antarian Ranger, helping out the Jedi. But after working with the Sullust Galactic Alliance, she found her skills were suited wonderfully for espionage and information gathering. And that sort of regular training seemed to have bled over into the gifts that were previously untrained and undeveloped. She wasn’t complaining, not by a long shot.

But it appeared she was more than just gifted in her training, she was blessed in the Force.

Now though, she was doing what she could to help make the galaxy a bit safer, a bit more organized, and keep threats to the Jedi away from ever finding the light of day. And while she enjoyed finding out her information from the HoloNet, there were some leads that just needed to be chased won.

What she saw on the ‘Net was ‘Mad Clone, Extremely Danger.’ Clone never seemed to go over well even if they were mundane. And where clones were there was always danger. Clone armies, reborn Emperors, people trying to force the Force onto bodies. The blonde was making her way through Denon’s underworld.

Her data got her here, now she would have to finish her search in person. Adjusting her jacket, she continued on, knowing that there was a fixer not too far from this neighborhood, and Blanchard never let her down as an informant.

Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen
 

Sergeant Omen

Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps

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With every step he took, he was closer to freedom and getting off this crazy planet. The Clone could imagine the neon signs for the spaceport now. Only a couple more miles. It was then the worst thing that could have happened did.

A large open-topped airspeeder flew overhead and landed right in front of the beleaguered clone with a four-man squad of corpos, all coming out with stun blasters raised, two more Airspeeders flanked them, flashing spotlights against the ARC's cloak. They had found him and it was clear that they wouldn't be letting him go. A speaker from one of the flying airspeeders blared "We can do this the easy way...". Omen didn't have to think about what he was going to say next, his mind was already too focused on rushing his body to the airspeeder and jumping onto it before the four-man squad could even think about pulling the trigger. He slid across the back of the speeder seizing the driver's stun pistol and shooting him with it, quickly pushing him out of the speeder and settling into the driver's seat as the first stun shots glanced past his shoulders. One of those shots lands, my arms and legs are done for. Can't let them get me... A stun bolt hit the back of the driver's seat as he quickly gunned the engine and shot off into the air, traveling quickly as the other two speeders chased him into the night. "I just need to lose them... I need to disappear..."
 
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She had to keep her eyes open here. The agent knew a lot of the tricks of walking the beat and not getting seen or found out. She was dressed down enough, rarely, if ever, wearing any sort of rank that could be tracked. She was working for Starchaser, as an agent and his eyes. Was that like the Emperor’s Hand? Not really… she swore it wasn’t. Just the Eyes of a Warden of the Jedi. She could provide insight into places where he couldn’t always see, or be. It helped that she was always looking for different things than he was.

Justice and liberty for beings, rather than history of the Jedi and to hunt down dark side relics. She moved in a way a Jedi couldn’t. That was what she was tasked with. Bringing the light to places in a manner that was even aggressive for Coren. He would speak in ways that were feeding, but then rescind the idea. She and Veino Garn Veino Garn were both good at picking up on it.

As she was making her way to the Fixer she knew, that was when she saw it, the airspeeders dropping. There was a tingle, was it the Force? Or just knowledge of what could be occurring? It didn’t matter, her hand went to her revolver and she heard the hiss and powerup of it.

Good.

But it seemed that even before she could get her bearings as she arrived, one of the speeders was already off and running, followed by the other two. Seeing a rental swoop she nodded. Pulling it away and entering her credit-chip, she gunned the engines, hoping to keep tail.

Was it her quarry? She didn’t know.

But something was saying yes.

Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen
 

Sergeant Omen

Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps

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Omen bobbed and weaved through the sky lanes, curses flying from his mouth as he tried to lose his pursuers. The speeders stayed right on his rear and there was a swoop back not fair behind. He needed to end this now before it got out of hand.​
Glancing to the right and below, he saw something that made him smile, a one-way sky tunnel directly through a building. Now it was time to make his move. The Clone threw the speeder left before diving out of the sky lane and moving for the tunnel at full speed, faking out the speeders behind him and letting the ARC gain a sizeable lead on his pursuers. As he gunned the speeder around the midday rush of vehicles around him, somehow not clipping anything in his mad rush to the spaceport. When the tunnel broke into the open air again, he turned the direction he was originally headed in when the welcome sight of a speeder parking sign for the spaceport came into his sight. As he got on the off-ramp for it, staying in a line of cars to hide in plain sight, he only hoped he had outrun his pursuers enough to getaway.​
 

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