Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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So... about that armor.

Unknown Systen
Unidentified Ship

Sarge was bored. He was routinely bored. It never changed, although the reason for being bored surely did. This time he was bored because, well, he hadn't seen Ayden in weeks and frankly he needed to talk to the man who'd helped him design his last armor.

So, when he had a hard time tracking down the man... he did the next best thing. He went straight to Ayden's office on the ship they had hidden out in the black reaches of the void - a place where the ship was as impossible to find as the Katana fleet.

Propping his feet up on the desk, he leans the chair back and folds his hands behind his head while closing his eyes to fall asleep.

It was only a matter of time.
 
The shuttle fell back into realspace, with its sole occupant looking upon his great secret with a faint smile. The project on Fondor was proceeding on schedule. Now, as its construction entered the next stage, Ayden required a few components that had been left aboard the silent titan. Yet, as the shuttle drew closer, he frowned. There was someone aboard. Of course, there was only a single soul besides his own who knew the location of the ship.

"Sarge..."

The doors to Ayden's office slid apart, revealing the elusive man in his usual dark garb. His eyes never fell on Sarge directly, but rather went to a wall that held the objects of his desire. A book was pulled, causing the false wall to slide into the floor. "What can I do for you this time, Sarge? I swear by the Nine Hells, if you did something to have an entire star system put a death sentence on your head, I'm not helping. Especially if the cause was because of some woman you couldn't keep your hands off."
 
He'd been nearly asleep when Ayden had come in, and he blinked away the mental haze of near-sleep from both his mind and eyes. "Well, since we've joined forces with OmegaPyre, I'm going to need a more... front line capable armor. Care to help me modify my current suit?", he asks with characteristic smirk despite knowing Ayden wouldn't see it.

Laughing, he adds, "You and I both know that I never touch women. I just make them uncomfortable." He shrugs, smile becoming sad for a moment as he shakes his head.
 
"I wish you would sometimes..." He growled and shook his head while fiddling with a console. "What's wrong with the last armor? It's got good protection. Plus, the nanofiber weave gives you a solid increase in strength. Factor in the stealth system and I don't know what more you could really want. Unless you just want a bunch of guns stuck onto the think like leeches on a Hutt's ass."
 
"But Ayden... rape is illegal.", he says with a smug grin and a hint of a chuckle. Rotating the chair slowly back and forth while keeping his feet up on the desk, a brow raises ever so slightly. "Yeah, it's good stuff... for stealth. Some of that stuff isn't very practical if you're sitting in a trench."

He shrugs, "Just need something more... 'combat-y'."
 
"I spend several years developing an armor system, tailored to your exact form. A system that gives you unparalleled strength, almost perfect cover... and you want something more... 'combat-y'?" Ayden stood there, looking dumbfounded at the pile of bantha dung that had just been dropped on him."

"Is that even a word?"
 
"No, hence the extra 'y' I tacked on at the end. Look, man, I never said it had to make sense to you. But I need armor that screams 'im a mercenary' and not 'I'm part of a shadow organization bent on galactic domination'. One will get me shot. The other will get me tortured. I prefer being shot."
 
For a heartbeat, Ayden could only grin. That had to be a first in galactic history; a man asking for something to make him more shoot-able. Still, he had to give the man credit; he had a point. An armor system that looked more in-line with the galactic norm would help them transition into their roles in Omega Pyre. "Alright then, you've got me convinced. We'll make you something to give you a big ol' bulls eye on your back. Might even get a few scars to impress the ladies, who knows." As an after-thought, Ayden turned and looked at his friend. "You don't mind scars, right?"
 
Aydens grin was matched by the one Sarge returned; 400 years of working together would breed more than its fair share of camaraderie. "It'll be nice not trying to avoid being seen and just skipping straight to killing everything in my way." Part of the problem of only waking Sarge long enough to murder was nascent sociopathic tendencies.

When Ayden turned around, he got a smug smirk and a raised brow with a look that asked 'really?'... and the man had a point. He already had plenty of scars.
 
"Of course you don't. Gods know you're ugly enough as is." Ayden shook his head and turned back to the console, typing silent commands into it as his mind started turning. "Since the only reason that system had a proper stealth system was because I put it in without asking, I take it you're going for the over-the-top look? Probably with some kind of skull and crossbones decal on the face to 'intimidate' your enemies?" At that word, Ayden turned to look at Sarge, making air quotations as he said it with a grin.
 
"It wouldn't be armor without a skull somewhere on the face." Ayden had it hit right on the head; look the part, no one questions you. "Put some magnetic clamps on there like the old armor so I can strap ridiculous amounts of firepower to my body. Distort the helmet speaker a bit. Usual fare."

This armor was going to be so stereotypically mercenary it would be beautiful. "Also, I'll have you know I am not ugly! I just don't like showing my face."
 
"Well if I talked out of something that looked like my ass, I'd be wearing a helmet all the time too." As they continued their back and forth, Ayden keyed up a new set of commands. These set a great rumbling deep within another part of the ship as forges roared and spun to life. Durasteel was being smelted and forged with other metals into a metal soup that would become Sarge's new armor. "By the way, I don't know if we covered this, but you're butt-ugly."
 
"It's been implied, yes." The man says with a roll of his eyes. "Remember to use the Duraplast!", he reminds like a man unsure if his waiter remembered his order properly. Roaring forges reached his ears and he was more than happy to hear that familiar sound; he faintly wondered what would become of this ship.

"I ever tell you it looks like you've got a mynock on your face?"
 
"I think the more intelligent people call it 'a beard'." Ayden chuckled and finished up whatever it was he was doing, leaving the console to slide back into the wall and the faux-wall to slide back into place. "It'll be a few hours before the first iteration of the suit is ready. I suggest you take the time to figure out what exactly you plan on getting shot with so we can figure out what to protect you from."
 
"Sometimes I think it's your mission in life to get shot at by every living thing in the galaxy..." Ayden sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sometimes it seemed like Sarge wanted to die a horrible, painful death. But that was neither here nor there. So long as he continued to execute his orders, efficiently and effectively, Ayden would humor the strange man.
 

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