Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Savior, Devil, Redeemer, Slaver [Clone Army]

The Reaper of Won Shasot
The Razer Class Corvette Azalea touched down beside [member="Leo Vandermolen"]'s own ship. When Dax stepped off his ship though, he wasn not in his typical attire, unlike his companion. Instead he wore the Fading Cloak, mask on his belt. Perhaps the closest thing he had to formal military wear, they indeed showed the man as a warrior.

Much like his friend, Dax examined the people within the little shanty town as they made their way towards the conference. As much as Dax hated conferences and formal meeting, there was a lot of potential here. Best make what he could of it.

The two made their way into the tent, Dax following Leo. Of those who were attending, Dax knew a few only through reputation, namely the Emperor himself [member="Tanomas Graf"], [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"], and [member="HK-36"], whom he understood to be an ally. Still, all in attendance were strangers...and others, less forthright hid elsewhere...that much Dax could sense.

[member="Commander Lusk"], [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Jaina Ventor"]
 
The words "Shoot [member="Keira Ticon"] in the face and we'll join your cause" came to mind in Lusk's mind. She had been the start to the long road of hardship the clones faced after turning tail and running away from her duties as their commander. If circumstances were different and people of importance weren't here, half the clones would be trying to kill her and the other half defend her. It was a topic that was extremely heated among the clones seeing how many had fought with her on multiple campaigns across the galaxy. One of them had even been fighting the First Order on Lothal, and the Mandalorians at Nikkel One. They loved her and hated her all at once, and for Lusk. He no longer felt anything towards her, only the pain that was left in her absence. And now, only the anger of her arrival when they called for the help of anyone. Her presence did more harm than good, it caused Lusk to be erratic and blind his judgment with spite and hatred.

Hell, he hated her more than he hated Preliat. At least Preliat left and never bothered to show up again. He couldn't of ruined their lives since he was never in them to begin with. But her. He had loved her, the clones would of gone to hell for her and punched space Satan in the jaw. But that was then, and this was now. And right about now Lusk was pretty close to making up his mind on who they would join just out of spite for the woman.

But Lusk needed to calm himself, as much as he wanted to tell the woman to leave he had to remain calm. This was a dangerous game he played and every person who sat at this table was equally if not more deadly than himself. In both fighting terms and what they could do to his family. If Tanomas was indeed telling the truth he could order that fleet waiting to pick them up and instead glass all of them from orbit without the clones being able to do a damn thing to stop them. HK didn't seem the type to resort to violence to get his way, and the First Order perhaps was more honorable than what certain agents working in the shadows let on.

So it was time to play process of elimination. Graf seemed like the kind of guy to burn what he didn't get, so going with the Remnant seemed like a pretty bad idea. No offense to them, but brandishing a loaded gun and saying its here to help you wasn't a great tactic to really swing people over to your side. Now when it came to HK and his various factions he held allegiance to. What the droid had said really hit home with Lusk, he would of loved to fight with him and call him his commander. But certain circumstances being the loaded gun Tanomas had and the soon to be addressed other factors were certainly keeping him from saying yes to the droid. So it all came down to the First Order. They had the resources to stop Graf from an attack, and if they went with them then it wouldn't trigger wrath from HK-36. Plus Lusk could reasonably assume that the Imperial Remnant didn't want to fight the First Order over the clones, there was a strong chance greys didn't want to spill other grey blood. Nor start a war with one of the most powerful factions in the galaxy.

So while his heart pined for HK and the ideals of freedom and the greater good, reality was a different nightmare. The logical and safest choice for his people was the First Order. If they had gone with anyone else, the clones would of been up a creek with both the First Order and the Remnant seeking to destroy them before they could be ushered off to fight them. At least in this scenario, his family was safe.

[Mando'a] "Forgive me, HK. I would of loved to of fought by your side." The clone said as he put a hand on the Iron Knight's shoulder. If the droid was as smart as he let on, he'd understand why this choice had to be made.

Lusk looked over to [member="Keira Ticon"] and for the first time in a very long time he didn't see her with anger. While his face was stoic and neutral, his eyes were filled with sadness. They would have to fight somewhere down the line. He looked over to the table and took a deep breath.

"After careful deliberation and thought. We have decided to side with the First Order. This decision may seem rushed, but the words of the Admiral have moved us. We are warriors and we take no prisoners. We will stand faithfully with them until the day we are released from their service or death takes us in. I thank you all for coming, but I'm afraid this decision must be final." There was no other real option that wouldn't turn Tatooine into a full blown war zone. This was it.


[member="Dax Fyre"] [member="HK-36"] [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="Jaina Ventor"] [member="Jarven Zexxel"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"] [member="Preliat Mantis"] @Darth Malakai [member="Leo Vandermolen"]
 

RIP Carlyle Rausgeber

"It's all been bloody marvellous..."
Carlyle was honestly a bit taken back by the fact that all these people had just miraculously meandered into the tent. Who the kark were these people? And what was this party they were speaking of? Had this been an ambush? A prior planned out attack on the First Order by what were enemies of its government and army? Or was this simply some moronic yahoo, who stumbled upon this meeting of arguably some of the Galaxies most important figures. Either way, Carlyle ignored the idiot, and instead focused on the Commander who had summoned the First Order here. Who had summoned all these people here.

Carlyle wasn't too surprised at the verdict given. HK had rambled, Graf had seemingly threatened, and he was the only one who had provided a viable solution and logical counterpoints to the battle droids ramblings. Feeling a sense of smugness, which then faded into a bit of terror. How the kark does one transport thirty eight million people? But nonetheless, the time for such discussion was to come. Carlyle offered his hand to Lusk, "You have made a wise decision Commander." The admiral said, "We are honoured by the loyalty you have invested in us." He looked the man right in the eye, "We will not fail you." Carlyle then turned, "Captain Forne, return to the shuttle, and alert Commodore Bragge we have an agreement."

"Yessir, right away admiral." Forne barked, before exiting out of the tent, and scurrying through the shanty town.


[member="Commander Lusk"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="HK-36"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | @Jania Ventor | @Desmond C'Arytom | [member="Leo Vandermolen"] | [member="Jarven Zexxel"]
 

HK-36

The Iron Lord Protector (Neutral Good)
[member="Commander Lusk"],

HK shook his head to Lusk but returned the gesture as he touched his shoulder as well,

[Mando'a] "You are making a mistake, Young Commander, they call me a servant yet I have no masters and they are mere lapdogs to the Sith, and so are your brothers now. For your and their sake I hope it will be me you will face in battle, so that you will be granted either a quick honorable death or be allowed to live another day."

Although it very much sounded like a thread such words would have a different meaning to a Mandalorian, in a way the droid wished him well for his kind there is no better end than an honorable one.

But before the droid would disappear, he looked to [member="Tanomas Graf"] to see what the aging emperor would do. So far he did not impress the machine much, HK saw him punched and offer no retaliation, although that was pretty much in enemy territory, he then witnessed how FO made mockery of his navy and what little territory he laid claim to when the Syndicate attacked him yet it was the Order who showed up with grand forces and ordered all ships, including those belonging to the Remnant, to undergo inspection by them, and now they took a massive army of clones right from under his nose, so close to his borders, so close to Kamino that bore copious amounts of their kind in the first place.

The droid wondered if Graf would be pushed around still or if he would finally stand his ground, or better yet, snap.
 
If [member="Commander Lusk"] had given the order to end her life, Keira wouldn't have fought. She wouldn't have blamed any of them in the least for pulling the trigger, as she hadn't set foot on the planet anticipating any kind of warm welcome. This was her own way of seeking out closure both for herself and the men, a finalizing of where their loyalties lay after the hell they had been through. More than anything she wanted them to find a home somewhere she knew they would be safe, but in this galaxy that was but a fleeting hope. There was no true safety for born soldiers, only temporary shelter until they were unleashed upon the next battlefield, wherever that may be. These men and women were bred for war, and nothing would keep them from it.

Not even the potential of fighting against those that had once been allies, it seemed. It wasn't herself she spoke of, but the Mandalorians as a whole, as she knew just as well as they all did that they had formed strong ties with the vode since birth, having been brought up immersed in their culture. When Lusk met her eyes she inclined her head, the faintest of smiles on her lips. There was no malice in her eyes, no anger at the decision made. Only regret, and beneath that a pride in his ability to choose for himself not what was best for making everyone happy, but what was best in order to ensure the safety of his family. He had grown, and he no longer needed her. Perhaps he never had.

That thought alone caused a thread of emotion to rise in the back of her throat, and her gaze fell to the ground as she recalled all that she and this wayward army had gone through together. There were an innumerable amount of battlefields set foot on, more than one of them against the First Order themselves, all of them in the name of some kind of greater good. At one point they had even fought against their own cause, but still they had a family to come home to at the end of the day, one that had at one time included her. But those strings were cut, that she had made sure of herself, however unintentionally. These were no longer her men, and she had to come to terms with that. If not for her sake, then for theirs above all else.

Shakily she released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, fists slowly uncurling as she brought herself into some state of peace with the current events. It was over, and there was nothing she could do about it. Her gaze settled on [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"], and there was a long moment before she spoke, her voice carefully even and betraying no emotion other than a still persistent protective edge for the clone army that was now his, "You would do well to realize all the good you have inherited here today. These are men and women that have and will sacrifice anything for the cause they are dedicated to, including their lives. I would advise you not to forsake that honor, or tarnish it with promises you cannot keep."

Having relieved a fraction of the remaining pressure from her chest she again looked to Lusk, "I would still like to speak with you, please. For old time's sake."
 
Demond sat idly by as the officials gave their speeches. It was all painfully droll to the Chiss. But, he and his agents were tasked to guard the Emperor and that is what they would do. The confines of the tent were quickly becoming cramped as more and more arrived. The desert air was sweltering hot and Des wished to be anywhere else. His fellow agents had taken up positions in all corners of the tent ensuring that any who made a move towards the Emperor would quickly be stopped. They were equipped with smoke grenades and disruptor rifles. Phrik plating and blasters would be useless if it came down to a fight with the Imperial squadron.

Clones arrived with a few bottles of water and placed them on a nearby table. Des exited his place in the corner and poured himself a glass. He placed it to his lips and was grateful for the drink. He wiped some sweat off his brow and took a moment to peer out of the tent. The shanty town the clones had built was impressive indeed. Thousands of makeshift homes built from metal and adobe dotted the landscape. But, what Des really was looking for was the rest of his team. The two Chiss snipers had scaled a two story shack giving them a nice perch to lay atop of. They were stealthed and the only way Desmond knew of their location was his cybernetic heads up display. The agents had a wide view of the entire metropolis, but more importantly they had a scope aimed right at the tent.

The entrance of the tent lay open and they continuously scanned the patrons. Waiting for someone to pull a weapon. They took note as the First Order commandos exited the tent and seemingly disappeared into thin air. But, most of all they watched the HK droid. He was heavily armed and armored. Should he wish he could kill many of the inhabitants within the tent. But, his armor would do little good against the disruptor rifles the Chiss carried. After Desmond spied his two little birds he walked back to his corner and fingered a smoke grenade. The agents were lethal and had little intentions of leaving any alive if the mission went South. Shortly after Desmond resumed his position it seemed the clone commander had come to an accord.

He was to side with the First Order and Desmond sighed a little. While the answer was expected it still stung a little. The man was based very close to Imperial space and with one command they could have an entire fleet here. If the Emperor truly desired it. Still Desmond doubted it would come to that. While the First Order and Empire had had their differences, it was Desmond’s understanding they were fast becoming allies. So, all in all it was not a total loss. The Empire might have lost a small army, but on Kamino men like these were a dime a dozen. They had clones in abundance and Desmond thought the whole ordeal a bit silly. But, when a rogue army lay so close to the capitol he supposed it had to be addressed.
 
[mando'a] "I know." Lusk whispered so softly that it couldn't be picked up by normal ears. There was a deep sadness to those two words but they were meant for the enhanced hearing capability of a droid, specifically HK. This was the safest mistake he could make, and even if he didn't want to serve under dark Jedi or Sith. He would, and he'd give it his all. Because that's just how his father raised him and his brothers and sisters to be.

Lusk needed to make one last appeal though before continuing to sell his soul for the security of steady work and purpose for his family. There was something of importance really, and that was his family's family. Along the way a lot of clones had gotten married, had a family, kids and tent with a white picket fence. Whether it be with some Twi'lek bartender or some mandalorian merc stopping in for supplies, there were a fair amount of his clone brethren that were living lives out here in the wastes with their family. He had to make sure they were taken care of as well, and the best way to do that was to make sure they found gainful employment. What Tanomas had said was true, they more than likely would birth their own clone army. So who better to train clones than clones themselves? It just made the most logical sense.

"There are upwards to a five hundred thousand to a million clones with their own families. Either with outsiders or... you know." Lusk gagged a little at the idea of sleeping with one of his fellow Isard sisters. But hey some people were in to that and they weren't related so you know, y'all can be gross.

"Anyways, the point I'm trying to make is this. Emperor Graf, HK-36, These clones with families, they would be honored to take any non combat related work you might have. Whether it be training the next generation of clones for your army on Kamino, or assisting in whatever affairs you might have. It pains me to have to separate from them, but they need to remain with their family and fully integrate into civilian life. Or at the very least non combat military personnel. The desert badlands are no place for children. So I ask for your kindness and mercy to allow them to earn their keep within your respected nations." Lusk would then look over to [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] and speak rather humbly.

"If our new commander finds that acceptable." Hopefully their new leader wasn't a dick.

As for [member="Keira Ticon"] and her words of wanting to speak in private. Lusk gave her a nod and once all this was figured out they could talk and try to move forward with their lives.

[member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="HK-36"] [member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Tanomas Graf"]
 
Machinations of evil man.. Years of warfare- brought these people, his people- to their knees. Reality set in to Preliat as he sat down, looking at [member="Commander Lusk"]. Entire years drifted across his eyes, as he looked to the man who would be his practical son. Various thoughts ran through his head, most of them- guilt ridden. Envious of their newfound purpose and somewhat relief, Preliat looked onward at his children. Nearly 40 years ago, he had began to walk the galaxy- and left nothing but destruction in his wake. Everything he did- he did it to destroy. He built very little- this was among the few things that Preliat could take credit for helping to create. Preliat turned his head to the admiral, nodding at his words. The other two with him, he'd personally like to punch them in the face for their pompousness. Naval officers irked Preliat in an odd way- they had little idea of the brutality of combat. It was easy to press a button and move a ship. It was harder to close with the enemy personally.

Preliat flicked his eyes to [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"], then to Lusk. He spoke in Mando'a- his Ordo accent seeping through his words.<"You have made a good choice, brother.">Preliat watched as the First Order captain left. He twisted the cap off the wine, taking the first sip. He set it in front of Lusk. Lusk probably hadn't had a drink in quite a while- and being that Lusk was more or less the less modified of his brethren, he shared more traits with Preliat than he would cared to admit- or even Lusk may be willing to admit.

He sat down near Lusk, running a hand over the shaved sides of his head.<"I understand your anger more than you would realize. But- I have lost my family. I'm sure you have heard. I don't want to lose another.">Preliat's eyes looked over to Lusk. Lusk was leaner, younger than he was. Less bulk on him. A more vector-like person than he was. Maybe even deadlier, in some regards.<"I would ask your permission to help you lead my wayward childre. Prn- and give you all that I can.>"He said plainly, stealing glances at Rausgeber. Preliat fell silent, letting the silence fill the room with a quiet tension, before speaking again.

<"I do not have many things left. I don't want to lose my sons.">
 

Tanomas Graf

Guest
T
"Very well, Commander. This deal is acceptable to me; I'd rather have the First Order receive more men for their military with the oncoming war than what those sickeningly-sweet Alliance fools. As for the families, they are more than welcome to journey to Imperial space, far away from any current conflict and rather secured." The Emperor sighed, giving a small smile to Admiral Rausgeber.

He pushed down on the switch located on his comlink, and while no acknowledgement was shown; dozens of Imperial vessels and escorts made the jump to hyperspace, en route to Tatooine.

[member="Commander Lusk"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]
 
Well... this accord had come to a speedy conclusion. Leo had made his way to the back of the tent, listening tentatively as the 'diplomacy' droned on. He laughed at the words of Graf and decided to speak up, "Forgive me if I'm wrong, oh mighty Emperor." He mocked, feigning a bow for added effect, "But didn't you assist the Alliance against the Order on Kaeshana?" A grin apread accross his face. At least that's what Leo had heard. The discord between the people in the room as the proceedings came to begrudging coclusion was quite humourous. Leo's eyes glazed over to the FO representatives, [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] , that was his name. Oh that smug look said it all, Leo brushed his shaggy hair behind his ear and gazed over at the Clone Commander. "I know it's a bit late, but you could always come and join us in Kathol. I know it's not much of an offer compared to what what some of these guys are providin', and you've already made your pick, but you'd be doing some good in the Galaxy, rather then bending to these dogs." He gestured his head in the direcion of the men in uniform. "Maybe even let your men decide who they're willing to fight for. Chances are they'll follow you, but if you give em' a chance to see some of the work we undertake, even a small amount of men would do." He suggested, it was worth a shot.

| [member="Commander Lusk"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="HK-36"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] |
 
Jarven was more tired than he had previously imagined. Despite the arrangements coming to a faster than foreseen conclusion, there were those that still wanted to drag things out. More than anything, Jarven wanted to leave this dust ball, curl up in bed and sleep in. Yet, here he was, waiting here whilst others dangled for potential leftovers.

Jarven took a couple of steps forward and positioned himself in a way so that Leo Vandermolen knew he was being addressed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an average salt shaker. He said,

"You know, the commissary on most military stations will sell you a 26 oz. can of Morton Salt for about 3 credits each."

He pulled the lid off of the salt shaker.

"Here's a free sample, though---"

With the weakest, most thinly veiled attempt to act, Jarven pretended to accidentally tilt the salt and have it pour out the opening onto the ground.

"Oh, hot damn," fake lamented Jarven with tired eyes staring at Leo. "Look at that mess. It's a fething shame, isn't it?"

With that, he put the now empty salt shaker back into his pants pocket and casually walked out of the tent while whistling to himself.
 
"Oh, you've gone and done it now kid." Leo muttered, gazing at the FO officer. How does a guy just carry around a gorram salt shaker? Leo pushed himself up from his corner, pivoting his head slightly to the side while keeping his head focused on the guy whom had just insulted him. "Wait here won't you Dax?" He ginned, cracking his neck to the other side, "Just gonna deal with some karking business. Shouldn't be a minute" There was no need to look like a tough guy, not here. But this was gonna be some plain ol' fun.

| [member="Jarven Zexxel"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] |
 

RIP Carlyle Rausgeber

"It's all been bloody marvellous..."
The officer eyed the mysterious woman as she began to speak. He'd assumed her some emissary of the old Mandalorians by her attire, or perhaps one of the Kathol Outback's emissaries. He listened to her, and slowly nodded his head. She was some sort of old compatriot. Which was rather funny when he thought about. Particularly given it was the Mandalorians who ended the Republic, no? Nonetheless, her considerations should be taken into account. "The soldiers here will carve a new future for the Galaxy," Carlyle said, looking her in the eye, "Their sacrifice, and their legacy, will endure for millennia to come under the First Order's banner."

Carlyle nodded his head at his old colleagues commentary, and the concerns of the Commander over civilian casualties. "Adm-" he paused to correct himself, "Emperor Graf is correct in that respect," The admiral said, "We may disagree over policy, and even at times detest each other over the past, but the fact is is that civilian lives come before everything." He turned his head to the droid, "There will however, be no negotiation with this, thing." He derisively drawled, "Knowing the Alliance's civilian casualty rate, you would be lucky to see any of your kin alive."

[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Commander Lusk"] | [member="HK-36"] | [member="Keira"] Ticorn
 
I am a son of the Mountain.
Malakai's walk of the grounds had been fruitless and therefore a waste of his time. He did not particularity know what he was expecting or hoping to find but he did not find it. He turned back on the path he had walked and made his way to the tent where the Emperor was negotiating for the clones. As he walked he noticed a few more ships had arrived since his brief departure. The man exhaled when he saw ships bearing the mark of the First Order.

"The First Order." He muttered, in no certain tone of praise nor condemnation. He tapped a small button on his gauntlet that brought his HUD online, a red overlay coming over the scene before him. After doing such he made his way to the main Tent, though rather than go inside he simply stood outside, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited in silence. The man's eyes danced around the area, noticing ships from Kathol, The First Order and even the Alliance. He exhaled, wondering what the decision had been and just who would gain this army.

[member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="Commander Lusk"]
 
Jarven was about 40 years old. In Gank years, that meant he was about 60+. In laymen's terms, he was getting too old for this poodoo. Modern day health standards and his cadre of cybernetics kept him looking respectable and enabled him to do most of the stuff he was able to pull off. However, it did nothing to change that look in your eyes when you've seen too much, been a thousand places and shook a million hands.

Jarven used to abhor alcohol and, now, he would drink regularly when off work and pop meds to sleep at night. Regardless of the fact that Jarven was running out of wick to burn, he wasn't about to become a bendy boy for anyone. There was a fire in the Gank species that either stayed aflame or was put out by Death itself; there was little or no in-between.

He heard foot steps behind him, right outside the tent, so he straightened his back and turned his head to see who it was. Upon seeing [member="Leo Vandermolen"], he turned around, planted his feet and crossed his arms before asking,

"What do you want, boy?"
 
As talks about where the non combat clones would go, Lusk froze. The sight of Preliat and Keira didn't even do that for him. It was someone else, someone who he had just noticed due to a small scuffle that was going on. So Carlyle's words would begin to go mute as Lusk's vision started to tunnel and focus on one target only. One person that he was going to beat until he told him everything that he wanted to know, First Order be dammed. It was because of her he was alive, that he was subjected to this existence. The reason why his brothers and sisters were forced to kill and take the lives of innocent people. The person who was the focal point of all this rage was [member="Jarven Zexxel"] and that was all going to be explained very shortly.

"Excuse me for a moment." Lusk stood up and casually walked over towards Jarven.

He didn't want to jeopardize the security of his family by ruining things with the First Order, but this was important. So as he stepped forward, Lusk reached around his back and gently rested his hand on a rather large blaster pistol. He wanted to pull the weapon and shove into the Gank's face so he could look down the barrel. But he couldn't do that, his fingers slowly drifted away from the gun and instead as the Gank crossed his arms and put on his tough guy act, Lusk struck.

Like a viper reaching out to strangle its prey, the clone now fueled in rage and existential dread reached out in a lightning fast move that would have one arm attempting to wrap around his throat, and another keeping his arms crossed to make sure he stayed in his place all while pushing him back towards a hard column of the tent.

"WHY IS HE HERE!?" Lusk shouted out.

"WHY DID YOU BRING MOTHER'S HUSBAND HERE!?" He once again yelled at the sight of Jarven.

"WHERE IS SHE!! WHERE IS PATRICIA!!" Lusk attempted to tighten his grip and if the people of this table were aware of galactic events they'd be able to put things together.

What they had in front of them was a rarity. Jarven Zexxel was [member="Patricia Susan Garter"]'s husband whom was the creator of this clone army. He may not of remembered her but they had kids together and a life. Then Jarven just vanished one day never to be seen again. So Lusk was justifiably angry over seeing the husband of the woman who had given them life and then abandoned them. Lusk was a very stable commander and wasn't a psycho or suffering from any form of clone madness, he was very in the right here.

[member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="Leo Vandermolen"] [member="Jarven Zexxel"] [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="Varren Kesk"] [member="HK-36"] [member="Keira Ticon"]
 
Having spent years among the clones, Keira knew what the tells were before things got violent. As much as they all wanted to perhaps forget that time spent together, it had happened, and each knew the other just as well as they knew themselves. She knew there would be violence just as soon as [member="Commander Lusk"] made any kind of move, and she stepped forward as he lashed out towards [member="Jarven Zexxel"], as she had sensed the rising tension the moment he'd stepped inside the tent. If Patricia was any kind of mother to the men, that made the Gank a sort of interim father, if anything. What had began as a simple meeting was amounting to far more than the clones had bargained for, and she knew that. Unfortunately shed didn't have the authority to do as much as she would have liked.

So, the next best thing. "Vod'ika!" Everything happened too fast for her to properly think through the ramifications of applying such a familiar moniker, and among the men it came naturally. "Udesii. If you want to talk to her, I can help you get in contact. No one needs to be harmed today. Let him go." Her tone was carefully even, but there was nothing about it that implied she was asking a question. In a way that split second of activity caused things to return to how they had been for just a moment, instinct taking over in lieu of common sense. "As I said, we can talk, and I can get you in contact with Patricia. She owes me more than a enough favors to warrant speaking with you." It was her way of keeping the peace.
 
Safe to say, Leo was forgotten about for the short term.

Patricia. Wife. Mother. He was angry and frustrated at the suddenly violent predicament on top of the fragmented memories that were popping up as these keywords screamed through his brain. His eyes rapidly moved as he tried to decipher the mess in his head.

Then, his eyes set hard on [member="Commander Lusk"] and he animalisticly snarled in his face before gripping the man with his own cybernetic limb. Both men had a grip on each others' throats. Actuators churned, pistons fired and his cybernetic legs and arms worked to lift Lusk bodily off the ground and carry him away from the tent a few steps before attempting to toss him to the dirt.

He turned to [member="Keira Ticon"], put up a hand and said,

"Excuse me, ma'am, but you're going to have to wait your turn."

If Lusk tried to get up, he would attempt to plant a solid kick into his side to keep him down. Leaning over him, he shouted with a desperate voice,

"Who's Patricia?!? What the hell are you talking about!?!"

He tried to grab Lusk's shoulders, shake him a bit and continue speaking.

"I'm a few dozen pieces shy of a puzzle and you're going to help me find them, creep!"
 
When Jarven lifted up Lusk using his augmented strength, his first instinct was to use his free hand to reach behind his back and pull his pistol. Then to proceed using said pistol to fill Jarven's skull with hot burning plasma. It screamed at him and he wanted desperately to take away from her what she took from them, but he'd need to calm down. He needed to just go with the second instinct in his gut. Which was punch Jarven in the head a few times. So as the large gank carried Lusk away from the tent he was sure to give him a few solid hits to the head in response.

Then the clone was violently tossed to the ground, so he doubt that if his blows did connect he was hopped up on confusion and adrenaline to even feel them. Lusk hit the ground hard and the wind left his lungs for a moment, but that didn't stop him. Like his father he was maelstrom of hatred and fury, so in a flash a large combat knife was produced from his boot while he recovered and prepared to strike once more. The blade flipped in his hand into a forward striking position as he remained low to the ground getting up on one knee and preparing to lunge forward like a bat out of hell.

But as he pushed up he remembered that he couldn't kill Jarven, at least not at this juncture. So the knife in his hand relaxed a bit and Jarven put his hand on the clone leader's shoulders. Pausing for a moment Lusk was still filled with anger and it didn't help his tone that he took with the gank.

"You're Jarven Zexxel! Husband to Patricia Susan Garter or Zexxel now I guess! Former Vice President of the Red Ravens turned Spaarti Creations CEO!! The woman who gave us life!!" Lusk shouted at Jarven then continued onwards with the information he knew of the man.

"You have three kids, live on Relovian, and I've been to your island mansion three times now! HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THIS?!" Lusk then jerked back as Jarven shook him a bit.

"DON'T $#%*ING TOUCH ME!!" Lusk got away from the gank and threw his own knife to the ground.

It was almost too much for him to handle. He let out a pained cry and then took a deep breath of air to steady his nerves. He needed to finish this, and he needed to get his people to safety and back to having a purpose.

"We're done here. Don't ever talk to me again." Lusk straightened up his clothes and then stepped back into the tent where the various emissaries were.

"I'm sorry you all had to see that. I believe this wraps everything up. All the clones will be ready and set to depart in a few hours. I wish you all the best and I thank you all for coming." That was pretty much the end of it.


[member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="Leo Vandermolen"] [member="Jarven Zexxel"] [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="Varren Kesk"] [member="HK-36"] [member="Keira Ticon"]
 

Commander Lusk said:
"DON'T $#%*ING TOUCH ME!!"

"YOU THINK THIS IS ME TOUCHING YOU?! LOOK AT ME!!! I'M HARDLY ORGANIC ANYMORE!"

His voice choked, his vision blurred from tears and snot started coming out of his nose. It was true: his arms and legs were mostly replaced with cybernetic limbs, his heart, eyes and intestines were synthetic and his brain was half cybernetics and half organics. He wanted to pull his revolver, stop him and interrogate him, but he was hurting.

His head was aching up a storm and he struggled to stand upright. Instead of apprehending, he simply yelled at [member="Commander Lusk"] while walking away.

"You son of a &!^@%! This isn't over. Not by a long shot, clone boy! I'll get the truth out of you, yet!"

He struggled back to the ship as his HUD was going haywire. He got to his tiny quarters, opened the door to the refresher and puked into the toilet. He cleaned out his mouth, slunk down onto the ground, curled up, grabbed the barrel of his revolver with both hands and repeatedly poked himself in the forehead with it, softly crying,

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you..."

Regardless of Lusk's so-called revelation, his memories weren't coming back to support his words. They just added more confusion to the pile. Three kids? Island mansion?? What's a Red Raven?!

His records showed that Patricia was a black hearted killer, crime lord and evil doer through and through. Him marry her?? That was utterly ridiculous. He'd sooner cuff her and toss her in a jail cell than touch that blood soaked skin and feel that silver tongue try to rip out his soul.

The more he thought about it, the more he got angry. It was obvious that this woman was trouble: to the clones, to the good of the galaxy and, now, to Jarven. As his anger simmered into deadly intent, he realized that bringing her down had suddenly become a new priority in his life.
 

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