Striking While the Iron is Not

[Aver Brand]

Iron Empire Space
Csilla


Guns? Check.

Better guns? Check.

Hipster kids with datapads? Check.

Fac— what in all circles of Nether is that?

A flabbergasted Wevawa Nitaz, senior Scrapper of Clan Boz-Nitaz and leader of the Lowraiders, stumbled a step back.

“Ko lopo dooka?” She blinked a few times at the mon cal, then turned to her people. Geared-up and ready for… well, definitely not war.

“M'tuske jar k’osa, m'tuske toineepa. Ibana?”

“Ibana!”

And that’s all, folks. Whether of walks great or small; whether of unassuming stature or towering figure; whether armed to the teeth or… well, armed to the teeth, Nadir is always efficient.

Those other guys are okay too. Probably.

“Ashuna!”

And so the Lowraiders rode, and hell followed with them.

(All the way down the loading ramp.)

[member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Narbo"] | [member="Helix Syndicate"]​

[member="Isamu Baelor"] | [member="Aster Rose Baelor"] | @Atheus | [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] | [member="Zeradias Mant"]​

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Narbo"] | [member="Helix Syndicate"]

Nix sat quietly within a small acceleration chair in the cargo hold of the shuttle, her eyes fixed on a small datapad in front of her.

There was a pistol hanging on her thigh and the backpack beside her carried a variety of tools that she'd probably need by the end of the day, though all in all she hardly looked all that intimidating. Even compared to the jawas she was...well oddly innocent. She frowned for a moment and ran a hand through her brightly colored red hair, the freckles on her face wiggling slightly as she scratched her nose and finally looked up from the screen.

She watched the horde of miniature beings rush out of the ship and stood. "Wait!"

Nix had heard the plan of course, in fact she'd helped create it, but it seemed that the little guys were more than just a bit eager to get underway with everything. She couldn't really blame them, mostly because she knew absolutely nothing about them, but they were all supposed to be doing this as a team. Nix frowned for a moment and cast a glance towards the other members of her group, giving them a look of desperation. Perhaps they could quell the odd horde.

"Can you..." She trailed off looking after them. "Do something?"

Hard ask from this bunch but still.

 

[Azimuth Industries]

A large Ualaq Aqualish shrugged apologetically, then chuckled, tusks shuffling. "Sorry, can't control stoopa."

The four-eyed Ualaq, known as Yuhj Narbo to his friends and "Oy, Sleemo!" to almost everyone else carried a large suit case with both hands as he stomped down the ramp in the middle of a sea of Jawas armed to the teeth and keen to show it.

"Woah, hey, chess ko watch where you point that, koochoos."

Behind him stumbled a Nimbanel, also carrying a large suitcase. The two huffed and puffed until they got to the end of the ramp, whereupon they promptly set their rolling suitcases down and extended the handles.

"Let's roll, no?"

[member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Helix Syndicate"]

 

[Darth Athora]

Now that Douglas had made chief, he had a bit more of a leadership position in the Imperial navy. Those who respected the man grew in number exponentially since he was promoted. He was proud of himself for making it this far, but he knew there still a long road ahead if his dreams to become an admiral were to come true.

For now, he just oversaw his duty station on Csilla.

"Sergeant. I want all rovers to be very attentive. I've got this strange inkling that something might occur today." Douglas said to one of the enlisted under his command. "Aye aye, chief." he responded before walking off. Douglas continued to his office and sat at his desk. He took a hard sip of his caf and looked over some datapads. Under his command alone, six squadrons of Imperial starships were patrolling Csaplar, standing watch and protecting the jewel of the Iron Empire.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

[member="Narbo"] | [member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Aver Brand"]

Chretien remained in the cockpit, feet kicked up on the console and a lit cigarette held between two of his webbed fingers. At one point they had been calling him the pilot, then suddenly these people started calling him the face. He had no idea what it meant. They all had faces. Except the Jawas, possibly. It didn't make any sense and no one really said anything to him directly. Probably because he locked the cockpit doors on them during the flight out. Chretien was normally very loose about these things and willing to put up with eccentricities. But these people weren't eccentric. They were just weird... And the Jawas made him nervous, what with those darting yellow eyes and those brown robes.

They were like monks. Evil monks with guns who tore open robots for a living. The Mon Cal shuddered in his chair and took another drag, idly watching featureless security footage from the rest of the ship. Fortunately he was not the only Syndicate goon on payroll today. To help him hold down the fort, a couple of Rangers and a Processor had been sent with him. The Rangers were Kyuzo twins. Only one of them, Zai, ever spoke. They were occupying the copilots chairs. Zai was on his datapad. His brother was meditating, cross legged, breathing slowly. The Processor, meanwhile, was standing in a corner - stiff as a log. It didn't even look like he was breathing. Where everyone else was weird, the Processor was just creepy.

Suddenly there was a low burst of static from the Processor, interposed between various low beeping noises. This probably meant something along the lines of, "Pardon me, but I have serious doubts as to the possibility of success for this mission, as it seems we are mostly relying on Jawas - a race known for their unscrupulous behavior, as well as an Aqualish whose previous record with the Syndicate mostly includes huffing starship paint." A more accurate translation would have been, "Bad."

Chretien shrugged. "Well, know, we're getting paid by the hour regardless of whether this works, so..." He looked at the security display and noticed Nix was lingering at the start of the boarding ramp. Chretien stretched his free hand to hit the intercom button and suddenly his voice came blaring out behind her. "Hey, keep it moving. I've got to close the door."

He really did not want to sit there with the ramp open.

 

[Scourge]

Scourge, the new proprietor of the Hawk’s circle decided it was time to muscle in on some of the action. So, he reached out his feelers and contacted The Cabal. It was by no easy means that he had done this. They were a secretive bunch with a paranoid knack of shooting first and asking questions after your knee cap was gone. Regardless Scourge had managed to get in on a piece of the pie. He had no real army.

Just a few misfits he had hired. One trigger happy spice fiend who claimed to know his way around explosives and a introverted cyborg who said he could slice into anything with a few security spikes. Scourge pulled a small bag of spice from his pocket as the shuttle set down. He dipped his hand in and withdrew a pinch of the drug. Holding it up to his nose he inhaled deeply from the fine powder and was immediately gratified with a mellow high.

He passed the bag to his two compatriots and they both did the same.

“Not so much Junko,” Scourge growled to the spice fiend, but was mostly ignored by the man. That is until he received a wallop on the back of the head. The cyborg whose name was Borne snickered at the sight and Scourge cast him a menacing glare. Borne snickering stopped abruptly and Scourge cast him a sideways look.

“You two get your shit together. It’s time,” He said angrily and stood from his seat. They were dressed nondescriptly. Just some casual spacers out to see the winter wonderland that was Csilla. The ramp lowered with a hiss and the trio began to make their way outside.

[member="Helix Syndicate"] / [member="Narbo"] / [member="Slevin Thawne"] / [member="Aver Brand"]

 

[Aver Brand]

[member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Helix Syndicate"] | [member="Narbo"] | [member="Scourge"]

Some clans chose their leaders through dynastic, others through bloody means. Both were stupid.

That’s why Wevawa Nitaz had left Tattooine for a more sensible, profit-oriented environment – that is to say, Nadir. The means stayed bloody alright, but nobody batted an eye if you slaughtered your way to the top instead of inheriting the proverbial throne.

By this point, the face and the hipster kid with a datapad are probably wondering why the backstory of a jawa is at all consequential to their nefarious designs on Csilla. The answer is quite simple:

Wevawa Nitaz could speak Basic.

And so she did, in fact, wait. She held up a tiny black fist, and whirled on Nix in a billow of brown robes. Narbo and the suitcases arrived. A ramp closed.

The jawas ceased waiting, and headed towards their next stop – a spacers’ cantina at the edge of the starport.

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Helix Syndicate"] / [member="Narbo"] / [member="Scourge"] / [member="Aver Brand"]

Nix frowned at her companions, mostly because she found most of this entirely unprofessional. She knew that Emma had worked with some of these people before, though she had no idea which. Her frown continued a sshe wandered down the ramp, eyes lighting up at the odd sights surrounding them.

When the pilot yelled at her Nix turned around and made a face. "Not like you could be helpful or anything."

The young woman commented with more than a little bit of sass as she threw up her middle finger and proceeded to hop off the edge of the ramp. Of course the angry comments of the...Yuuzhan Vong? She wasn't really sure about that, didn't help her mood.

Without another look back Nix headed after the Jawa's, motioning for Narbo to follow along with her. They made an odd sort of group all moving together, and thus she decided it was best to keep her distance from the Jawa's. She and the Aqualesh would hopefully go unnoticed after the horde of brown cloaked figures.

She looked up at her temporary companion.

"So..." She began quietly as they walked. "Where are you from?"

 

[cheshire_kitty]

Cold, pupiless red eyes stared out onto the streets of Csaplar. Chiss, humans, and other weird looking creatures were going about their day. Everything seemed so peaceful.

Taking a sip of her tea, Seras frowned and looked down at her cup. It was nearly empty and the one she had been expecting had yet to arrive.

Time waster.

Displeased, the blue woman paid what she owed for the tea and left the tea house, escorted by one of her family's security personnel.

What a pain.

 

[Azimuth Industries]

Chretien stayed on the shuttle. Made sense. He was a squid, after all. Narbo was pretty sure they were boneless, spineless? Except they might have had beaks, or something. Couldn't really recall. Stang but was this suitcase heavy.

Four eyes caught the movement of the Vong and his goons.

"Scourge, you keep up, nah? Bsha, bsha."

He ran a hand over his balding head, then the girl Nix, she struck up a conversation. Narbo's tusks shuffled together and he let out a low, wheezing chuckle from the gut too scummy to be pleasant. "From, eh? Was bukee on smuggler's moon streets. Azalus living, no. Now," he extended one furry arm out in a sweeping gesture, "am child of galaxy."

They reached the cantina and started flooding in, but with this many people if they acted like they were all together there'd be problems. He signaled with a hand for [member="Scourge"] and the jawas to buy some drinks and act casual. A glance around and he spotted the informant, Narbo leaned in close to the girl, Nix.

"You see? Get the info. Maybe Chretien get off starship and join you. I stay here and find some women, no?" He let out a raucous laugh and moved in the direction of the scantiest clad female in the cantina.

[member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Helix Syndicate"] | [member="Douglas Reed"] | @Sras'emaso'csapla

 

[Zeradias Mant]

"Attention on deck!", an officer bellowed.

Striding into the central air traffic control tower was Brigadier General Kaan, Commander of the Csillan Planetary Guard. Csaplar was served not only as the capital of Csilla, but also the interim capital of the Iron Empire. A location of such importance demanded the attention of higher echelons, and expected more care and maintenance than other traditional metropolises. Kaan looked about, numerous screens flashing. Though the tower paid attention to his presence, they did not cease in their duties. One could say that the men and women in this room were was kept the Chiss import/export business running efficiently.

Hands at the small of his back, he strode through the walkways, paying special attention to the monitors he could actually distinguish something on. While he was highly proficient in matters of state and command, he lacked the technical knowledge to decipher incoming transmissions or other data coming in. That is what each person did in this tower. They were a critical cog in a well-oiled machine, as well as a well-guarded one.

"Vessel number 5694 Cherek, you are cleared for entry into Csilla. Proceed to Dock 4-4 Aurek for customs inspection.", one of the operators said. Immediately after receiving confirmation, Kaan saw the operator turn a dial and continue talking.

"4-4 Aurek Customs, Skymaster. You have a vessel incoming with expired registration, quarantine for inspection."

After a lifetime on the battlefield, the nuances of city life intrigued Kaan. Customs fell under the purview of the CPG, yet he hadn't yet been afforded the opportunity to observe them in action. He reckoned it was time.

Exiting the top level of the tower, the same officer called the deck to attention. After the shouting, Kaan's executive assistant joined his side.

"Dock 4-4 Aurek."

[member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Narbo"] | [member="Helix Syndicate"] | [member="Scourge"] | [member="Douglas Reed"] | [member="Srars'emaso'csapla"]​

 

[Scourge]

Scourge, followed by his two goons stalked towards the bar, right after the gaggle of Jawa warriors. Narbo spoke to the trio, telling them to scram and Scourge nodded. He and his two goons walked to the bar and immediately got the bartender's attention.

“Sheesh, you're an ugly bastard. What're you having?” The bartender proclaimed and Scourge growled, his hand drifting towards the holdout tucked in his waistband.

He stopped himself with visible effort and regarded the bartender with jaded eyes.

“Tihaar,” The alien growled and the man smiled.

“One bottle of white lightning coming right up,”

 

[Zerrak Windwalker]

As silence pared his speeder and walked in he looks around and sees the chiss and bows before walking to the var to order a drink,
Hepoints to the water and as the waiter brings it he nods to scourge

@Srars'emaso'csapla
[member="Scourge"]

 

[cheshire_kitty]

A puzzled look made its way on Seras' feature when a stormtrooper bowed at her then made his way to the bar. Curious about the soldier, the chiss followed him and watched from afar as her ordered a drink.

What business does a stormtrooper have on Csilla? she wondered. Best to just observe him for now.

"Monet, bring me a non-alcoholic drink and get yourself one too," she whispered into her bodyguard's ear and placed some credits into the woman's hand.

Red eyes scanned the bar as the chiss waited for her bodyguard to return with her drink.

Nothing out of the ordinary yet, the chiss noted as her bodyguard returned with the drinks.

[member="Silence"] - [member="Scourge"] - [member="Aron Kaan"] - [member="Narbo"]​

 

[Zerrak Windwalker]

when the bartender handed silence his drink he sips it before walking over to the chiss and types into his com-link"Whats a chiss of nobility doing in a scum hole like this"
Srars'emaso'csapla

 

[Aver Brand]

In small pockets, the group filtered into the cantina. Wevawa Nitaz and two of her lieutenants took a seat at the counter. “Watta,” she clicked as she finally managed to scramble onto the barstool.

“Could you repeat that, ma’am?” the shiny droid winked its photoreceptors at the bright yellow eyes barely peeking over the counter.

They narrowed.

“Wattar,” the jawa enunciated each syllable with dripping hate. Her right hand, Rorwek Nitaz, caressed the grip of his modded DEMP2. If droids could swallow…

Three tall glasses of ‘watta’ appeared momentarily. Nitaz, Nitaz & Nitaz each took a refreshing swig of the drink before angling back towards the smoky room where the meeting was taking place.

[member="Aron Kaan"] | [member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Narbo"] | [member="Helix Syndicate"] | [member="Scourge"] | [member="Douglas Reed"] | [member="Srars'emaso'csapla"] | [member="Silence"]​

 

[cheshire_kitty]

Surprised that she had been approached by the stormtrooper, Seras shot a glance at her bodyguard then replied to the man's question with one of her own.

"I could ask you the same question. What is a soldier like you doing in a place of scum and villainy like this?" she returned and took a swig of her drink.

Nasty, she thought looking down at the drink. She was not fond of cheap beverages.

[member="Silence"]​

 

[Zerrak Windwalker]

He sips his water before setting his helmet on the table and types "good place to get info or a drink or food" He smirks at the lat part knowing full well the drinks and food is terrible
Srars'emaso'csapla

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Helix Syndicate"] / [member="Narbo"] / [member="Scourge"] / [member="Aver Brand"]

Nix quickly realized that her allies in this little missions were neither conversationalists nor the type who could actually string more than a few words together without drooling.

It kind of put a damper on the whole thing. Usually when she did this sort of stuff it was with her siblings. They would banter with her, talk, sometimes even make fun of the enemy to their face. This bunch? It seemed like they were happier just waddling along and doing whatever they could in order to get their next big stack of credits. She could understand it from the Jawa, they were a crazy lot on a good day, but everyone else just seemed so very...boring.

She frowned as they stepped into the cantina. "Don't go too far."

Nix said with a stern voice, attempting to copy the same tone that her mother used on people. It probably sounded silly coming from her, but she didn't particularly care. For a moment she surveyed the room, then spotted what she was looking for. With a slight swagger she moved towards an empty table, sitting down and placing a small briefcase at her side.

It was the agreed upon symbol, and a few moments later a rather portly man appeared at the table. He smiled at her, though Nix said nothing. Instead she slid the case onto the table, being met half way with a small data drive. She nodded, and then pulled away.

That easy, no talk, no conversation, not when someone could be listening.

 

[Azimuth Industries]

Reluctantly, Narbo separated from a spiced out Chiss girl with friendly hands and returned to Nix.

"Got the stuff? Let's get show on road. I rented speeder out front with cash."

He tossed [member="Scourge"] the key. "You drive."

The Aqualish and his silent Nimbanel buddy wheeled their suitcases out the front door and stuffed them inside the backseat.

[member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Silence"] | [member="Aron Kaan"]