Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun

KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

@[member='Jared Ovmar'] | @[member='Jacen Cavill'] | @[member='Tyger Tyger'] | @[member='Tyri Lsu']

The manufacturing plant was not too heavily defended. There were no anti-aircraft turrets, no gun emplacements... Nothing. For all intents and purposes, it was just an isolated factory in the middle of Kalee's jungles. As one could imagine, this would make it the perfect target for some Grade-C corporate warfare. There was no finesse to be involved here. Just your standard, run-of-the-mill raid in the dead of the night. The workers would have left for the day, but no doubt there were still security droids lurking about.

A duo of cloaked Sekario-Class transports swooped downward, coming to a halt just above the roof of the manufactory. The objective was fairly straight-forward. Break a lot of things, steal a lot of things, and leave the factory a ransacked mess. There was room for error, but frankly the objectives were too simple and the the likelihood of resistance too unlikely for it to be that great.

Tyrin was foggy on the details of why he was here. A friend of Ovmar's had a bone to pick with Czerka, so he was coming to deal with them and invited Tyrin along for the ride. He also recalled that Jacen had a bone to pick with Czerka. Then again, Jacen had a bone to pick with anyone who manufactured weapons that wasn't him. There was also another guy here, a mercenary type that had been hired by the friend of Ovmar's. He looked half-way competent. Such were the passengers of the first transport.

The second transport contained around fifteen SC1 Battle Droids, armed to the teeth with BlasTech paraphernalia. Because what was the point of a good ransacking if there weren't faceless mooks to help out? The loading doors to both transports flung open, allowing both parties to depart and get cracking.

"Alright, Ovmar." Darth Janus said, strolling onto the roof, lightsaber in hand. "Who's going where?"
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

@Jared Ovmar | [member="Darth Janus"] | @Tyger Tyger | @Tyri Lsu

Jaw muscles were set tight as he stood alone on the vessel that would be inserting them into Czerka's factory on Kalee. Most of the faces on board weren't strangers, and he had appreciated the invitation from Jared. The presence of the Umbaran was good, it meant they were there to truly destroy the company. Even if their relationship was strained to say the least, he would still come to aide in this mission. He knew Jared from their business dealings on the Guardian project that was underway, which led to why he was on the ship. To redefine planetary protection on a galactic scale, he would need more revenue for his company despite the titanic coffers that housed all it's wealth across the galaxy. So he could either buy more companies up, and expand as he was already, or go about securing a new weapon designs for free. He chose the alternative route, and was going to execute his quite simple plan.

Raid some data, and undersell and let the volume offset the lack of initial profit.

It was risky doing it this way, but Czerka made good wares. His companies had already started mining the necessary materials and rigging up more facilities to help prepare for the new products they would be making. This was strictly a business mission for the Sith Lord, so he kept to himself and away from those he knew and didn't know. They could do whatever they needed, they each had their different agendas. Cavill had his, and he wouldn't stray from his plan at all for any of them. They were merely white noise to him, and he could care less what happened to the rest of them. Sure, coming back to the stealth vessel to leave would be rather nice. A Sith Lord always had contingencies lined up, and he sure as feth wouldn't go somewhere without having the Sion in orbit as well.

Both vessels landed, and he quickly pulled on the Mask of Darth Nihlus while pulling the hood of his black, terentenek duster he had purchased from Rave to cover his head. Taking Daesumnor in his hand he simply walked past the rather small Umbaran before muttering under his breath. "I go where I fething choose Ardik, follow and I'll remind you of that paperweight I destroyed. Except you will be the paperweight." His words were cold, but Cavill didn't care as he let the darkside take hold of him. Inside the duster were various devices he was about to use, but they all relied upon him getting to the main server room.

So Kryptus found the stairs and started to head down, he had a long way to go and a short amount of time to get there.
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

In light of my particular disposition, I cannot help but wonder if my being stationed within this humid deathtrap was an Imperial act of great genius or immeasurable cruelty.

While I may have always suspected it, I have never been so truly aware of how statistically improbable it is that I will survive from one minute to the next. It is as though the Force keeps its thumb firmly adhered to the Kill button for the whole of sentient life, waiting eagerly to bear down should the coin toss finally come up "Tails." It is a wonder how civilization manages to exist at all, let alone war, art, love, or any of the many illusions in which we allow ourselves to stupidly indulge.

This is a fact that Marek never fails to impress upon me, offering a constant reminder of the many biological murder machines awaiting me in the jungle. Be it the desperate squeal of the woolamander, or the homicidal howl of the aptly named Howler lizard, every sound is indicative of something dying.


A sudden shift in speed caused the dropship to rock. Without looking, Milo instinctively grabbed the “Oh crap!” handle, steadying himself on the bench. After all, this was not his first ro-day-yo. They had reached their destination and were now carefully descending upon it. The trauma concluded, Milo released his grip on the safety measure and returned to the book.

"There is one consolation, however," Marek begins.

"If you can hear it, you must still be alive?," I reply.

"...oh, you've heard that one?," he sighs, dejected.

Such is the nature of our relationship.


He had been reading the tome for most of the flight. It was a traditional volume, old school, written in pen on paper in a small leatherbound diary, the brown stains of dried blood adorning its cover alongside flaked golden writing. “From the Mind of Prefect Grenathan R. Skylark,” it said.

Having finished his page, Milo proceeded to fold the small book slightly and cram it an unused ammunition pocket. They would be arriving soon.

Milo’s attention shifted around the dropbay, trying to get a make on his compatriots. The bulky one brooded, standing, off by himself, and Milo had noted that he was unmoved by the ship’s earlier turbulence. Another sat across from him, regular-looking save for a detectable smug disposition. It was Darth Janus, with his Darksider mask, that perhaps had been the most telling; the presence of one Sith Lord indicative of them all being as such. He reflected on his father, an Imperial Officer, trembling in their presence, groveling like a dog for the masters of the Sith Empire. He remembered himself as a TIE Fighter pilot being similarly cowed. But that Empire had died and things had changed now, and as his eyes locked with Jared Ovmar during the Lord’s own observations, his look was not one of disdain. It was the stare that adults gave childhood monsters, looking through them with the matured understanding that comes from a life lived in reality.

Because monsters don’t exist.

His jaw moved, but Milo said nothing. Apparently, he had been chewing something.

The nature of the operation had been paradoxical to the Solder-gone-Mercenary. The wait until nightfall, the concealed orientation of the dropships; It had all the fixings of a covert attack save for the final step – the landing of two spacecrafts directly upon the targeted facility. Milo wondered about the poor quality of Czerka’s security. He considered the stealth capabilities of the vehicle in which he sat.

And then, there was the matter of the androids.

No, this was not the Off-the-Books Black-Ops of a legitimate institution. This was “Smash and Grab” Thuggery. Honestly, it made no difference to Milo, and he wondered if there really was a difference to anybody else, either. He decided it had to do with discovery and the amount one had to lose in the face of it.

And just what did these four bad men have to lose?

Reputation? Family? Humanity?

Hah. No.

Only a paycheck.

The drophatch opened, and Milo finally stopped mad doggin' Jared to stand and depart. On a subliminal level, he reacted to Jacen’s mask, its visage causing some ancient memory embedded in his genetic code to scream out in horror and despair with the plight of some ancestor Milo would never be aware of, let alone name. But it was all so abstract now, lost to time; and so it was that he merely observed as Jacen slipped it over his face like some punk about to knock over a convenience store.

Retrieving the bowcaster slung on his back, he held it at the low-read as he exited the aircraft onto the roof, milling around away from where Kryptus spat curse words at Janus. Though he mentally documented the apparent bad blood, in the end, he was unconcerned. Janus named Ovmar in charge, and so, that’s who Milo, a Soldier, deferred to, lingering just outside the craft awaiting the coach’s gameplan.

He spat whatever he had been chewing onto the ground.


(( [member="Darth Janus"] [member="Jacen Cavill"] [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Tyri Lsu"] ))
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

@Jared Ovmar | @Darth Janus | @Tyger Tyger | @Tyri Lsu

They had all left him alone still, which was just the way he preferred it. Kryptus walked past them all, and headed towards a flight of stairs. The door before him was closed, it's defenses rather standard. Oh, Czerka, you should have planned better. A quick flick of his will was all that it took to rip the bolts off their hinges, and then it simply crashed onto the roof. All sensors in the area had been disabled, a precaution they had thankfully taken earlier. Darkness was all that he could see, and he embraced it as he walked into it and down the stairs. None followed him, and none would be welcome. All the droids had been programmed to follow their Masters, but Kryptus had played with the programming a bit so he could be left alone. What the others from the Hegemony wanted was for them to find, he was here for his own reasons while leaving them alone.

This was business.

His decryption and storage devices bounced inside the pockets of his duster, and he reflexively tapped the specific place to make sure they were in one place. A vision of the map he had memorized played across his mind's eye. Patrol patterns and lists of the available staff came to mind as well as he worked his way down the maze of stairs. If he stuck to his current path, he only would have to deal with a handful of security droids that were of inferior quality. This is just pathetic Czerka, I could have sent some dead beat thug to have done this. Next time I need to call [member="Hannibal Oryen"], and I'll just sit in my office or go hunt down more Jedi. Now there was a thought he wished he could follow more on, but business took greater precedence at the moment.

Rave did have a list of targets ready for him, but they could wait.

HISS!

The door to the floor he was looking for opened, and in a blur of motion Daesumnor cut through two droids. Kryptus' first cut was a long diagonal slash through the droids entire midsection. As soon as the blade had cleaved it's path through the opposition, he took a two handed grip and thrust it right through the next droid's head. Thanks to his particular specialty in the Force, the entire encounter had taken less than a second. All the opposition was spread out, but few would dare be down this far into the company's archives. Walking over to a console, he sheathed his alchemical sword while placing a data disk inside the reader. Rave paid a small fortune for this, and I had to pay another to get my hands on this. His wallet was still reeling as everything on the floor was unlocked, and it was at this moment he thanked his lucky stars he kept his schematics in a secret vessel that made random drops across the galaxy.

With the entire floor unlocked for him, he pulled out his encryption crackers and walked to the central console and plugged them in. The screen before him lit up, and it eventually worked it's magic after ten minutes of cracking the code. Jacen stifled a yawn before looking back up at the screen.

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This is going to take forever....
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

@Jared Ovmar | @[member="Darth Janus"] |@ [member="Jacen Cavill"] | @Tyri Lsu


As a veteran, Milo had no fear of combat. He had no fear of the whizzing pasts of blaster fire, and of errands that seemed rather tedious and circumnavigable, particularly for the limited information he was given. But before he could do all that, he first needed orders. Tyger Tyger, for all intents and purposes, was a living tool, and was often only as affective as his wielder.

So, as Jacen was not with whom he had a contract, he watched without anxiety as the Sith Lord marched off alone to cause all manner of chaos at the bottom of that darkened stairwell. Rather, Milo would observe Ovmar, the man to which Darth Janus deferred, with expectation. He had shifted his bowcaster to one hand, propped up toward the sky as it rested upon his shoulder. A relaxed posture, as he had come to not expect orders anytime soon.

His attention, instead, would be redirected to his actual employer, “I guess his big brother’s gonna take care of it.”

The comment was rude not because it was scoffed or possessed any ironic inflection, but simply because of its curt, unapologetic frankness, declared as though he were stating an obvious, objective truth, like "Your face is ugly."
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

[member="Jared Ovmar"] | [member="Jacen Cavill"] | [member="Tyger Tyger"]

"Someone got a little extra attitude in their morning vitamin supplements, I see." Tyrin commented on the behavior of Darth Kryptus, but only after he was absolutely certain the positively ripped, latex-clad Sith Lord was out of ear shot.

Tyrin could hardly understand why Cavill was being so childish. His anger he could understand, but they man really needed to put a lid on it. They were all adults here. Reasonable, respectable men with a sense of professionalism. Just because Tyrin managed to launch his coup before Jacen was hardly grounds for such childish rage. Perhaps it was just his being a CEO of a company that contributed to his tendency to be a pedantic little troglodyte. BlasTech's remarkable success must have done something for his already ridiculous and irrational tendency for blind violence. Probably generating an accurate sense of invincibility and self-worth. Or maybe he just had a pebble in his shoe that he couldn't get out.

Frankly, his Cade Lee persona was much more pleasant to deal with. They should have brought him instead.

But, they had brought Cavill, and now that hulking, steroid-fueled monstrosity of a human being was storming through the interior of a factory- seething disproportionate amount of hurt feelings. Perhaps a consolation fruit basket would soothe his rage. Or ignite him into blind fury. It was a fifty-fifty chance, he imagined, so Tyrin ultimately decided not to do so. Cavill struck him more as a person more inclined to eat raw Bantha meat than fruit, anyway. A slab of raw meat every night before dragging the boulder that acted as the door to the mouth of his cave back into place.

Darth Janus looked back over to Jared, waiting for an answer to his question. It no longer mattered where Jacen was supposed to go, as apparently he went wherever he fething chose, Ardik. Jared did not look like he was going to make any response any time soon, however. He was probably thinking about Santhe Corporation, or his lovely wife: Sasha. Whatever the case, it was annoying and making this take longer than it should have. The mercenary accompanying them made a rude comment, prompting a snicker from Janus.

"Oh, I like you already, friend. Come on, let's go get the loading bay doors open."

With a swish of his cape and an igniting of his lightsaber, Tyrin took point and descended down the stairwell. The droids lingering nearby would follow the both of them down shortly after.
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

@Jared Ovmar | @Jacen Cavill | [member="Darth Janus"]

As they reached the stairwell, Tyger Tyger opted to hang around the door, falling back on old military habits that had not quite died yet. Getting accountability, Milo counted silently as each droid passed him to enter the darkened stairwell, touching them each on the shoulder to make every tick that much more concrete. Saying the number aloud, “Sixteen,” Milo followed after them, slipping his weapon into the low-ready, and pulling rear security detail until he was confident droid #16 could do it in his stead.

The stairwell was awash in the crimson(?) glow of Darth Janus’ lightsaber. Milo made the rounds, walking up and down the formation of droids as though he were in command, his weapon in a single hand, hanging at his side in a relaxed posture. He maintained a good distance behind Tyrin, his time in the Sith Empire having left him savvy enough to know that a Sith would dice him into a thousand pieces before one would risk taking blaster fire trying to avoid injuring an ally.

As they descended the maze of stairs, something struck him as odd. “There aren’t any dead,” he stated flatly, making Darth Janus at least peripherally aware that, while Darth Kryptus had been here first, it should not be assumed that he had cleared the way for them. In fact, it appeared as though he definitely had not.

Upon reaching a new level, Milo broke off two of the droids from the back, insisting they stay put to guard their exit and provide early warning.

“Fourteen,” he stated aloud, following after the others.
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

Jared Ovmar | [member="Darth Janus"]l | Tyger Tyger | [member="Tyri Lsu"]

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Still alone, Cavill finally put Daesumnor down against one of the hulking servers near by. Impatience led to him pacing, the rage that fueled him keeping him anything but idle. Only the sounds of his boots could be heard as he paced up and down one of the hallways. Every exhale of his breath was visible due to the low temperature to keep everything running smoothly, it made him think of smoke. If only there was some smoke and fire here, this is reminiscent of a perfect Tyrin mission. It was the truth, Jacen always wanted violence where the Umbaran sought trickery and general douchebaggery to accomplish his goals. Idle hands left him in his head, and he kept reflecting on the lone mission Rave Merrill had given him. Before going down that tangent, or dwelling on how much he hated Ardik he instead looked back over at the large display to see what fate had in store for him now.

47% Downloaded.

Boredom took him over, so he pulled out the small datapad from his belt and set to work. Hands ready for battle instead went to work setting up a connection to Blas-Tech tower, and within moments he had taken over the console. Putting the anti-decryption software to work for a few moments was an interesting diversion from the tedium of being in his own head. Blue eyes looked over the screen furiously as he put in the necessary key prompts to get the software to change it's search parameters as it looked up the password. Who in the Force would put a hashtag at the front of their password? What in the feth does all of this mean? It left him torn between laughing and leaving it alone, or screen shotting it and letting some reporter get their hands on the information he was privy to for a moment. Tact was a key thing Jacen practiced, so he left it alone. Instead he stared at the password on the screen before pressing enter.

#Igetalldaladiezinsekret

94% Downloaded.

"Sir, did you require something? Why isn't your face visible?" The secretary's worried tone wasn't a concern to Jacen, he instead spoke as if he were Cade. "Yes, I need you to immediately halt production at our facilities within Fringe and Republic space. You need to go ahead and take the designs I'm about to send get to work on making these a reality for us." The secretary nodded in agreement as he set up the connection before taking one more look at the screen.

Download Complete.

Jacen Cavill pressed send, and Blas-Tech immediately got in the slug-thrower race with marked down Czerka designs.
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

[member="Jared Ovmar"] | [member="Jacen Cavill"] | [member="Tyger Tyger"]

Tyrin carefully descended into the factory, seemingly unperturbed. Kryptus had, no doubt, made a beeline for the basement or something. Whatever alarms there were in the facility had likely been triggered already and droid security dispatched to the basement. It was a nice distraction, but that wouldn't completely save Tyrin from having to deal with hostiles. Sooner or later the place's automated garrison would catch on and send some droids their way.

Until then, it would be smooth sailing. In fact, it would likely be smooth sailing for the duration of their being here.

The bounty hunter commented on the lack of dead. Presumably he meant workers.

"It's rather late, I'm afraid. The men and women who usually work here have gone home. Security will be honing in on my dear friend for the moment. I believe he's in the basement."

Tyrin explained this, not stopping Tyger-Tyger from requisitioning a pair of droids to safeguard the rear. It was good that he did that. Tyrin wouldn't have thought to, largely because he hadn't considered the possibility of any security droids lurking behind them. He doubted there were, but caution in all things was something Tyrin advocated.
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

Jared Ovmar | @Darth Janus | Tyger Tyger

His work complete, Jacen Cavill pulled out his memory devices and planet a few barandium bombs. Walking back towards the elevator, he rode it back up to one of the shuttles. Looking around, he decided against helping his fellow Sith. Rave had more missions for him, so he hit the timer on the bombs as he got in the vessel and left. His destination was only for him to know, and he didn't intend to share it with anyone else.

The other thieves had five minutes before the plant was blown apart.
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

@Jared Ovmar | @Jacen Cavill | Darth Janus

Milo had, in fact, been talking about security, as well as the workers.

But, at Czerka’s threat level, such distinctions in occupation were apparently arbitrary. Darth Janus dismissed the caution, quite carefree to the notion of danger, and Milo idly wondered why such a big hit team was so necessary for this Mom and Pop Shop Takedown.

Because money was nothing to these people. Because they could throw it up as a forcefield against any semblance of a glimmer of repercussion from misdoing.

And because money made Milo’s world go ‘round, he shrugged his shoulders to this awareness.

It was by no stretch of the imagination to say that the group had been sloppy. Landing on the roof; outside dataports imported into classified systems; 18 armed intruders clogging the stairwell; the placement of bombs, the taking of elevators, the wearing of scary masks. It had only been a matter of time. Death always was.

Blaster fire from upstairs, the two droid guards under attack. Milo ascended the steps to provide reinforcement should they have fallen.

And they had. A security automaton peeking out as it rounded the corner to descend to a new platform. Crouched upon the stairs, Milo’s bowcaster set across his opposing arm for stability, he fired an energy shot. It blew the android’s head off, but still it stood. Another. The mechanical man flew back and blew apart.

Milo switched his mode of fire, targeting the platform just above him. The explosive bolt burst as it made contact with the concrete, tossing the rest of the patrol down into the center of the spiraling staircases, their metal bodies flailing only slightly, awkward in their fearlessness, as they plunged into the uncanny valley.

There was nothing to say, really. So Milo said nothing. Instead, moved onto the nearest platform and hopped the rail, dropping himself down to catch that of the next tier down. Pulling himself up, he once more withdrew his weapon, switching its mode of fire back to the Energy shot. In his free hand, he snatched his scattergun and rushed down the stairs to retain his new role as pointman.

He would reach the interior door to the loading bay, kicking it open to be greeted by living security; a rodian, tasked with the night management of the droids. A scattergun blast tore his guts from his center, and he dropped trying to keep himself together, whimpering in agony, the abyss closing in around the edges of his vision. Milo entered the room, his bowcaster again stabilized across his sidearm wrist. Slow became smooth, smooth became fast as Milo rotated, firing off each powerful energy round into the surrounding droid security, each disassembling into a clatter of spare parts upon impact. Redirecting his attention to the disassembled rodian, he clubbed the man into the Black Lands with his scattergun, transitioning gracefully to then use it on a remaining droid emerging behind the other side of a parked transport vehicle.

Milo ganked the bot’s cover and awaited the rest of his entourage.
 
KALEE SYSTEM, KALEE
CZERKA MANUFACTURING PLANT

[member="Tyger Tyger"] | [member="Jared Ovmar"]

It was not long after Milo had utterly wrecked the security staff of the loading bay that Tyrin finally got there. There was a bit of a hiccup on their own way down, but nothing too serious. Just a few security droids. Tyrin's entourage was a few SC1s short from when Milo last saw it, but that was to be expected, everything considered. The Umbaran's lightsaber was still activated when he led the droids into the loading bay, only to find naught but Milo and the corpses of hapless security personnel. The Rodian seemed to have gotten the worst of it, the poor man. Hopefully he wouldn't be missed by anyone too important.

"Gee." Tyrin remarked, stepping over the leaking entrails of the ex-Rodian. "If I had known you could do that, I would have spared the expense for the droids."

That was a joke, obviously. The droids were there primarily for heavy lifting. Literal heavy lifting. Tyrin gestured for the droids to open up the loading bay doors, which they did candidly. A pair wandered over to each door, which they raised with as little ruckus as possible. Given that these were very large, very heavy doors, there was still a considerably amount of ruckus. Added to this ruckus was the sound of another two Sekairo-Class stealth transports landing outside.

Their cloaking devices flicked off, revealing them to plain sight and traditional sensors. They were not cavernous vessels, but they would get the job done. Without prompting, the majority of the droids holstered their weapons and began the arduous process of loading crates of weapons onto the ships. One crate in particular was actually filled with CZ-HKD droid brains, but that wouldn't dawn on anyone until later.

A few other droids kept watch outside. Some blaster shots rang out, indicating security from elsewhere was becoming alerted to these things. It was ultimately containable, but Tyrin moved to their position regardless. Wrecking droids never got old.
 

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