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Dominion The Cantrosian Two-Step | First Order Dominion of Cantros

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Tellu Talon

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Runar Ulfsson Runar Ulfsson | Var Talon Var Talon | Srina Talon Srina Talon
F I G H T

Let me in. Let me in. Let me in.

Somethin' was tellin' Tellu, somethin' was tellin' Tellu to let them in the creature stood a gasp, mouth open wide - skeletal remains.

A tooth hangin' in, death and dust poured out decay on display as the digitus pointed forward at her.

At Srina, who had been seen yah, seen by that Soothsayer, who also spied them the brother Var.

Scars along Tellu spoke of the horrors her resurrection has faced since they brought her out from Monastery.

Nary a smile all the while she hobbled toward them, one step, two-step it was roulette, a gamble.

No preamble to connect to the heart of a woman long gone, but it was a start to light a spark.

Memories invaded, eyes alight, aglow something unholy and only the family could unlock.

The name on her tongue clung to her mind memories blinked, glitched - signal busy, please call back.

Please call back, your call could not be connected this line has been disconnected.

She moved to wail but there was a stop, a stop in her motion, stopped her motion.

A notion that the name she hailed, the name she wailed that screamed from her lungs.

A moment of life, a moment of life right there in sight eyes glowed shifted.

Argent tones came alive, someone was home to pick up the phone but all alone she.

Was fighting, fighting, surviving Tellu took control reeling back her hand that would attack.

The moment was gone, and the banshee returned eyes rolled again, gone again Tellu stepped back and the line cut back.

The line cut back, the line went dead, please dial your number again.


Head back she reeled, head forward she did not yield and there it went an ear-piercing scream:

V A R - S R I N A

 
FAMILY MATTERS

Var didn't need reminding.

When it came to skill and finesse, there was no doubt that Srina was the best of the Talon siblings. But when it came to moving mountains? Tellu had that title by a long shot. The eldest gave the youngest a warning - he would need to be able to defend himself should the revenant wail. To this was given a sharp nod. Yet, in the pit of Var's stomach, a spark was ignited. Frustration. Why? Was this the best that he could do? Standing here, huddled under his sister's shield while she did the heavy lifting in dealing with...their sister?

Srina held up the shield. Srina was getting in her head. Was this really all Var could do? Watch?

Though the tactic was as running a marathon, the Echani began to sprint. "Don't worry about me." he remarked through gritted teeth. Var lowered to a knee - the effort leeching him of the means to stand fully. His left eye began to burn. A nagging sacrifice demanded by the furious power. He demanded the Force to listen. He snatched the ethereal by the throat and bid it to do his will. He demanded the truth - to see beyond what was tugging at his sister's strings. And whilst the eldest bridged the gap, the youngest began to perceive slivers.

They were as the strands wielded by a puppet master. Strands swaying in the ethereal winds, reaching far beyond the range of natural vision. Yet Var took hold and began to trace the strands back. Far beyond from whence Tellu stepped. Far beyond where the siblings stood. Though it was eating everything he had to muster, he would find that motherfether wherever he hid.

Because Var wasn't going to just stand by and watch. No, he was going to Fight.​

Srina Talon Srina Talon || Tellu Talon
 

Zakar Vass

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Moff Zakar stepped off the dais to applause, and let a breath out he didn't even realize he was holding. The hard part was over; they had made the hard sell. And despite the seas of blank and skeptical faces at the beginning of the speech, there were more then a few curious and fascinated ones by the end. Looking at his chrometer, Zakar sprung from his seat. There was still time until the next speech- he could probably get some food.

As he was sped-walk through the dignitaries with forced grace, he turned around and peered at the schedule, and was unable to make it out. Not for the first time, he cursed his vanity. He could hear his Chief of Staff, Aidra, rightfully berating him: 'By the Balance, your a Moff! You have, among other things, good health insurance!'

Zakar was so lost in thought he ran into a soldier- a First Order infantryman, by the look of it. "Apologies", he said, helping him to his feet. "In a bit of a rush- forgot to grab breakfast of course." He chuckled awkwardly, then attempted to peer at the schedule, with the same results. "Young man, if you have a moment I might need to borrow your eyes. Can you make out what the schedule says?"

Caio Caio \ Vidia Vudrirn
 
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Caio had zoned out. He'd mastered the art of looking to be awake and at attention while his mind drifted off thinking of happier things. He was abruptly jolted from them when someone smashed right into him. The armour stopped him from being winded and a hand whipped out to catch the other before he fell.

"Ach!" he started, "An bheil-" he remembered where he was and repeated himself in Basic. "Are you alright?" he asked. Bollocks, it was one of the VIPs. "I'm sorry sir" he said automatically, mind going on autopilot. Bollocks. He released he was still holding onto his arm so he let him go once he was certain the VIP wouldn't take another tumble.

"I...what" he stumbled over his words at the request. He wasn't even sure he'd heard him correctly. "The schedule" he repeated the unfamiliar word. Caio had been educated somewhat on Coillte and there'd been intensive classes upon entry to the First Order's military but he still struggled with spoken Basic, let alone written ones.

"Sorry I..." he said, squinting at the schedule. Some words jumped out at him, others were gibberish. "It doesn't look like it's in Basic" he lied triumphantly, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying anything more.

Zakar Vass Vidia Vudrirn
 

Vidia Vudrirn

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Tags: Zakar Vass | Caio Caio
Muse Soundtrack:
Godsmack "Bulletproof"

There was a bright smile attendant upon her features at the warmth of Minister Vass' greeting. Not that she had been concerned about his reception of her, of course, but it still set her at ease to find him so welcoming. "I would be more than delighted to discuss such an initiative, when we have a moment." she added briefly, nodding and settling into her seat as he ascended the podium to speak on the Dosuunian standard of education that could be adapted and fitted to Cantrosian culture. It was marvelously engrossing, and she took copious notes in the margins of the text of his speech that had been provided.

She rose and added her applause along side everyone else as he concluded, taking the time to tuck her datapad away when the opportunity arose. The talks were proceeding well, and the finite details were being negotiated for the formal entry of Cantros into the First Order family of systems. Some, of a certainty, still had their doubts, but they were currently outweighed by the benefits they could offer. It would be a delicate balancing act, no doubt, but Vidia had faith in the diplomatic corps that was conducting the remainder of the talks.

She did her part, speaking to the matters of defense and military modernization that she was newly responsible for. Many of those Cantrosians in attendance had heard of her background within the resistance during the occupation of Dosuun. They found a great deal of common ground once it became evident that though she had not served in the formally structured military, she knew precisely what she was talking about, and had the support of those who had fought to free Dosuun.

Breathing deeply when she had a moment to herself, she gave a nod to Keren and slipped off to the side of the broad chamber to procure herself some manner of refreshment. A glass of the local favorite iced tea soon became a favorite, alongside a number of the tidbits that highlighted the cultural cuisine of the Cantrosian people. Arching a brow as Minister Vass stumbled, the trooper was able to catch him before he stumbled further.

Canting her head to the side, she strode over and set down her drink and plate before seeking to look at the schedule in question. "Allow me to assist...we should be due to-" Vidia's voice was cut off by an explosion near the entrance of the building that shook everything within the negotiation chamber. It was a wonder most people remained standing, but their incoherent shouts of panic threatened to overwhelm everything. Without a second thought, she turned and barked out the orders in a clear voice for the security details to protect their dignitaries and evacuate them according to the plan that had been set in place.

Keren appeared at her side after a moment, her attaché case in hand. "Minister Vass, my chief of staff, Keren Altmere." The case was soon open on the table and Vidia took the time to arm herself accordingly, clearly not taking any chances as the fracas outside grew louder and drew closer. Her heels were not ideal, but she'd make do, and mercifully the dress was tailored well enough to allow freedom of movement.

Nodding to the trooper beside them, she paused, tamping down on the anger that rose through her senses, keeping it controlled and allowing it to sharpen her awareness. "This...is not what I had hoped for today." she said ruefully.


 


It eased a measure of the weight he'd carried since leaving the Confederacy to see and hear his brother once more. It took him several moments before he managed to speak again, the embrace and the press of their foreheads a welcome sensation in both the physical and the Force. There had been so much time where he thought he'd be bereft of such things forever, in his darkest of moments when doubts managed to take hold.
But this loosed some of the constriction around his heart and allowed him the brief moment of respite. What Gerwald had to show him through their fraternal bond was brimming with detail and information he hadn't had before. While some of it still made him question his beloved brother's decision making, it did bring him a measure of understanding and comprehension. Some of his choices had truly been impossible and he'd done the best he'd could under the circumstances given to him. Varick simply sent a surge of comprehension and understanding to his brother, knowing they could discuss it if needed at a time when they had the privacy and comfort to do so.

Gerwald's next words, however, did nothing save deepen the pain he'd already felt for his little sister. "I heard. I had hoped...I had so hoped it wasn't what it sounded. That it wasn't our sister. I should have seen it coming before I left the Confederacy...but I fear the same as you do. She is lost to us." There was so much more to be said and to be felt on the topic of Alwine, but it threatened to break Varick's heart all over again.

Doing his best to compartmentalize, he tucked the feelings away and shielded them thoroughly. It would not do to have such a distraction to mar his ability to protect the Cantrosians and First Order citizens alike on such a day. Knowing himself, he'd pay for it later, without a doubt. But it was a price he was willing to pay for the ability to remain clear headed and alert.

"Look at us, getting all maudlin in our old age." Varick said softly, a smile curling his lips upward as the brothers pulled apart. "The ceremony has already begun. You should be able to see the children in their little procession...there they are. It apparently harkens back to an ancient Cantrosian tradition-"

The first shots were fired toward the dais but they impacted a shimmering blue wall of Force that Varick flung around them out of reflex. Those Cantrosian and First Order troops had been versed on his capabilities but seemed to be slow to react as everything fell apart at once. Using every scrap of presence he had both within and outside of the Force, the Imperial Knight tipped his head back and roared in an unalloyed challenge, the sound scattering what fauna there was in the vicinity but also startling people back into movement with great alacrity. The sound echoed with its Force borne energy and Varick's gaze glowed a brilliant, crackling blue to match.

"Gerwald...just like old times, my brother...shall we?"

 
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Location: Summit
Wearing: A suit
Tagging: Ryssa Yvarro | Rusty Rusty | Shalita Verd Shalita Verd | Fevris Derzelas Fevris Derzelas | Saro Nakaioma Saro Nakaioma


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The cyborg gave Shalita a rueful smile, shoulders drifting up in a small shrug that seemed out of place with the image of the man, with the idea of an Exarch. It was the shrug of a child, of an adult forced to face upto the reality that certain things were out of their reach. It wasn’t a lesson that most people thought that an Exarch would have to learn. When John had taken his first steps out into the stars he’d seen these pinnacles of power, of the men and women leading nations and councils as untouchable, entities capable of doing anything that they wanted to.

Then he became one.

If anything was true it was the exact opposite, that the more powerful one became, the more influential you were the more restrained you were. Bound by responsibility and image, you had the power to ruin planets and wipe out populations…and you lacked the choice sometimes to even choose what you ate. The grin the man turned on Shalita was one hundred percent mischievous, the grin of the teenager he once was offering her a chance to get in on a prank.

“Well…maybe you’re right but let’s pretend just for today that I’m nothing special, just one more executive in a crowd. We can go back to being busy and important tomorrow.”

His eyes slipped over to Shalita’s companion, a small light of amusement in his eyes, that little grin pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I’m sure we have plenty we could talk about. Perhaps once the summit here is over we could find some time to go into them in more detail?”

The man slipped his hands into his pockets, that casual gesture born of years of unconsciously trying to hide the metal of his hands from casual sight. A slow casual gait brought him to join the others, dark eyes peering over the glass jars on display. A hand reached out, single digit extended to tap against the glass before he looked up and smiled.

“I’m guessing that’s designed to launch the jars into the middle of enemy troops, give them a nast surprise. What’re the tolerances on it like? Could you use it to launch something else, makeshift grapeshot for example?”

The man had seen the effects of scrap used in that fashion before, had seen just how devastating it could be. More than that, he could appreciate the amalgamation of the force and technology being harnessed to create a more potent weapon. More than that he was interested in the mind behind the concept, the mind that could come up with this was capable of…more.

“Do you have anything else hidden back there that you might want to show off?”
 

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C A N T R O S 7
Tag: Runar Ulfsson Runar Ulfsson | Tellu Talon | Var Talon Var Talon
Location: Capital City of Minkaren
Objective: Mixed: Rise, Rebel, Reflect & Cantrosian Scratch Fever
_________________________________________________________


She felt eyes. Someone watching them. Someone, that was not her false sister.

Mercurial orbs slipped intently through the tree line but every time she thought she saw movement her gaze seemed to slide right off. Like a glamour. Everything in her wanted to avoid looking at the monstrosity that had been made of Tellu. It was wrong. As Srina had fallen to the darkness, her sister, had chosen the light. They were equal and opposite.

Now?

Now—Her beloved memories were being tarnished by a shambling corpse. Scarred, violated, and befouled by some manner of spell work or Force-driven deception. Srina had learned many things from Darth Metus Darth Metus . Necromancy, whispering to the dead, was not one of those things. When her mind slipped into the shattered cranium of the broken thing, she almost felt like she could see flickers of who Tellu had been. What, she had been. A flicker of light. A flicker of goodness.

Shattered. Completely.

Her consciousness had been splayed about the cosmos like fun house mirrors. Reflecting. Never showing the truth. Never actually existing. It was Tellu. In a flicker of insight, she knew, it was her sister. For the span of a heartbeat, she thought that something in the revenant recognized her. Something in her tried to stop attacking. That was when the connection failed. Her scream was enough to cause an instead migraine. If she touched her ears, despite her telekinetic shields, she would find blood. All at once everything seemed to have been severed with a metaphysical blade. As if the last vestiges that made her what she was had been severed by something she couldn’t see. Could feel—But couldn’t quite reach. Anger surged and the flaxen-haired creature swore under her breath.

Were the situation not so incredibly screwed up Var would have likely stared at her as if she had grown another head. Lobsters coming out of her ears. She never swore.


“Var—”, she started, when he asked her not to worry, but her focus was on trying to reach their sibling again. To try again. To bridge the gap so that they could find her in all this madness. The flicker started again and once again Srina was struck by a sense of truth. How could this be? How could her body be here? She had been interred on Monastery for years. “…It’s her…It’s really her…”

The words seemed to come from her in fragments. Strain. They couldn’t hurt it without causing even more harm to Tellu. Srina did not stop her brother from trying to pierce the veil with her. Though she felt the need to protect him; he was his own man. He had been for a long time. She wouldn’t willingly let him walk headlong into danger but it didn’t change the fact that she needed his help here.

The pale woman approached her brother and rest her hand on his shoulder.

He wanted to find the puppet master?

So did she.

“Use my strength, brother. Take what is required.”

She offered her connection to the Force willingly. He had the focus, the skill, to find that which tried to use the form of their sister against them. She had the raw force to see it done. Her eyes closed while she pressed for a mental connection between the three of them while simultaneously allowing Var to follow an invisible pathway to see where it led. Her shields would hold against the attacks.

For now. That banshee wail, that shriek of death, could put both of them on their collective backsides.

“What do you see?
 
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Post: 1
Objective: Infiltrate The Rebels
Equipment: Light Mandalorian Armor | Mandalorian Crushgaunt | Beskar Vibro Sword | Sledge | Hammer | WESTAR-34 blaster pistol | Beskar punching Dagger | Beskar throwing Daggers | Cloaking Belt
Tags: Open
Allies: CIS | First Order
Enemies:
Rebels



A grey Cantrosian with Black stripes smiled a toothy grin at woman, he was wearing brown robes of some sort of priestly order. He slowly extended his hand in greeting, Xero stared at the hand with her silver eyes for a moment before removing the glove from her hand and reciprocating. As her hand touch his she could feel the blood pulsing and pumping through his veins, she grimaced ever so slightly before pulling her hand away and putting her glove back on.


“You don’t look like a Mandalorian?” The Cantrosian but he quickly retracted. “I mean no offense but most Mando’s are clad in heavy armor, like your friends.” Behind Xero stood several Mandalorians a mix of Enclave and Horizon Knights.


“None Taken, I’m Verd Werda.” That meant nothing really to the Cantrosian but it meant she was a warrior of the Shadow, a Ghost among the Mandalorians. Trained to fight in light or no armor to infiltrate or blend in. Her skills and abilities where especially honed blend in to hunt the strongest of all prey force users unsuspectingly. “I still bleed Beskar like the rest of my Vod." She reached up a slide a part of her mesh vestment she was wearing to the side to reveal a thin plate of Beskar protecting her chest area.


“You hired us, tell us what the Job is?”
Just like any good Mando’s they had picked up a contract with rebels. After all who did not want the best Mercenaries in the Galaxy in there back pocket. Xero looked back at her fellow Mandalorians who had come with her. Most Mandalorians didn’t like Infiltration but those who had followed Xero at least had some interest in the concept.
 
FAMILY MATTERS

If the situation were any less dire, the Echani might have given pause.

It was unlike his perfectly pristine sibling to use such foul language. It was unlike any of the Talon lineage actually, save for an estranged uncle, to ever descend to the mundane as such. That was the expectation, was it not? To be a shining representation of their House. So it was that the young Var bucked against those shackles for nearly the whole of his adult life. Whereas Srina went into politics and became the hand of a monumental democracy, Var had become a sellsword with a taste for cigarras and an appetite for unchaste women. How different they had become.

There would be time aplenty to appreciate the differences. For the moment, Var's attention was focused upon the revanant before them. As the seconds ticked past, the eldest's efforts revealed a damnable truth. The beast before them was no beast at all. It was, truly, Tellu. Some bastard had dug into Monastery and ripped his sister from her rest. Used her for their own aims. Displayed her as a monster. Just hearing those three words it's really her caused the Echani's jaw to clench. Anger. Hatred. Sorrow. All pumped through the man's veins as wildfire.

Then came the gasoline.

The eldest settled her hand upon his shoulder, offering her might. The differences in strength between the two were as night and day - Var could feel it the second her hand settled upon his jacket. It was like an ocean, awaiting his command. For but the slightest moment, acceptance was the answer. She would feel his presence reach out to take what was required - but then retract just as quickly. She would feel that wildfire growing, intensifying, as if her presence was pushing him further and further. "I got this. Focus on Tellu." he said, words alive with a hint of frustration.

In the Echani's mind, a war had begun to rage.

Was this truly his best? His sister was being played like a fething puppet. His dead sister. Fething Tellu. And the best he could do was kneel like a little queen and let big sister do the heavy lifting? Kark that. Kark that.

Var forced himself to stand. His teeth began to grind against one another as his anger became valuable fuel. Unbeknowest to him, the Dark Side was more than happy to answer such a delectable offering. And so it was that he could see. Enraged, the lines became all the more visible. He followed their ebb and flow, tracing them back to the hands which dared to offend their dead.

I have you now.

It was said that the Talons had an affinity for ice. Perhaps that was why the rebellious, runt of the litter chose the opposite direction. The sole male. The sole figure to not be a shining representation of the House. Amidst a family of winter, he would be the sole inferno. So it was that his rage was made manifest - a yelp could be heard beyond the tree line. Where once a man, hellbent on spreading terror, stood with utter concentration - there was only terror. The man's hands erupted into flame. Feet boiled within his boots. Skin bubbled as the flame consumed him from the inside out. Every gasp was ash. Every cry was embers.

Tellu would soon find that her strings had been severed. Nay, burnt away.

As for the furious Echani? Such brazen anger did not come without consequence. Though he said not a word, blood pooled and slid down his cheek. The eye which had been irritated and burning through his efforts had all but burnt away. In its place? A molten husk.

Srina Talon Srina Talon || Tellu Talon
 
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Objective: Infiltrate The Rebels
Tags: Xero Lang Xero Lang | Saram Kote Saram Kote [Open]
Allies:
CIS | First Order
Enemies: Rebels


Breathing fresh air still felt foreign. Strange.
Deceptively dark eyes moved through the stalls and exhibits that Cantros had to offer with a slow and steady gait. There were times when the vendors passing their wares got under her skin, uncontrollably, but she was getting better. Exposure to the public helped.
Even if she felt like it might drive her insane.
Nova had never imagined that she would be this far from home. Halfway across the galaxy. Mandalore was a shell of the world it had once been. Scorched. Gutted. It had been strip-mined for the Sith Empire war machine while many of their people had been taken, subjugated, and subsequently forced into hard labor that culminated in something far more heinous when the body broke down. The evil that flowed from the Empire knew no bounds. No limits.
When her family could no longer carry their weight? When their knees bent, buckled, and sinew twisted and tore to ribbons? They were removed. Forcie brutes came in long black cloaks with decraniated soldiers and took them away. Nova hadn’t cried. But, she fought. With all she had. It left her with a brand for her troubles and a mouthful of ash while she was shoved down into the dirt.
It was only later that she found out what the Sith did to them.
They were liquidated. Literally. Broken down into base parts by alchemical butchers, rendered into meat, before they were transmuted into some form of organic beskar-like metal. Her bloodline had all but been erased overnight. Later, much later, she escaped via a prison riot—But the damage was already done. There was no saving Mandalore, now. Not in her lifetime. They could fight for it. Try and take it. But what was the use in fighting, in dying, for a lifeless rock?
It hurt her to think it. She threw up in her mouth a little bit every time the realization struck her with a finality that rang in her head like bells. Her home was karked. Well and truly karked.
That was what she was here. In this odd place. On this strange world with feline humanoids. Standing with a group of Mandalorian warriors that she would have considered less than what they were not too long ago. She was alone now. This was her new family. Her new path. It was all she could do with limited funds and a closed perception of the world. She was bitter, angry, but she deserved to be.
Her armor was dark, sturdy, a mix of cloth and low-grade beskar. She couldn’t afford the shining purity that some of the Enclave or Horizon Knights came to bear. Nova hadn’t officially sighed up with either. But she needed a way to survive. Fight on. They were the only skills she had outside of mining with a laser-pick axe and taming beasts. She could fire up a hearty stew. But, she needed credits to put that on the table. This job seemed simple enough, if, she understood the parameters.
Do what Mandalorians did best. Take a big payday, likely, while screwing someone over.
The Imps were looking for people to infiltrate the rebel, nay, terrorist forces that were threatening the fair and too-clean cities of Cantros. Threats had been made. They didn’t know where they were going to be hit. By who, or why. This was where their crew came in. Hired sell-swords that were only loyal to those offering the highest of boon. “Nova.”, she introduced herself, quietly, omitting her full name. She preferred Nova. It was easy, plain, and didn’t remind her of her aliit being slaughtered.
It was also common enough that it would make it difficult to track.
“Copaani gaan? [Need a hand?]”
The question was posed to Verd Werda ( Xero Lang Xero Lang ) while they spoke to the Cantrosian that had hired them. Nova was itching to be of use. Her sword hand felt too heavy, too idle. Infiltration was not a skill set she had ever developed.
This would be a learning process.
And a long, long day.
 

Aito Vautah

Guest
A
Tags: Nova Dragr Nova Dragr | Xero Lang Xero Lang | Saram Kote Saram Kote
Objective: Infiltrate rebels
Allies: CIS | FO
Enemies: Rebel forces

A razor blade slowly glided against his flesh, Aito was staring with deep focus at the mirror as he watching the blade trim and shape his beard. Removing the razor from his face, Aito nodded his head, it seemed to be a solid job. Especially since he was a little high currently, having smoked a bit of spice before he decided that his beard needed a good trim. If he didn't trim it regularly then it would itch and feel uncomfortable underneath his helmet. Tying his hair into a tight top knot, Aito sighed, he had been offered a job. Something about some factions needing people to deal with rebels, Aito didn't really look into the details of the mission too much, figuring that once he was there then someone would explain it again to him. Instead, Aito decided to spend his morning taking care of himself, making sure he was decent to be around others, since he had mostly just been around fighters and didn't work on his personal hygiene too much. No one cared if a fighter smelled, they cared whether the fighter won or not.

Meeting new people and working on a mission, Aito decided that he needed to look decent and not look the usual drunken mess he appeared to be. He took a shower, cleaned his armour and the pure beskar helm he had, one that had been donated to him when he decided to become a Mandalorian. It was usually the only part of his armour that he took care of. His tattered cloak was something that just had to remain tattered, he donned it anyway. His sword was strapped to his back, a long vibrosword styled like a katana from Atrisia. There was a heavy blaster pistol holstered to his hip and donned a bandana before placing the beskar helm on his head.

His equipment was basic and limited for a Mandalorian but he was without a clan, without a family name and considered a foundling, struggling to make his name as a Mandalorian. It had been nearly 5-7 years since he adopted the Mandalorian lifestyle and the most he had to brag about was that he was undefeated in death matches and even then, it wasn't that impressive when you consider the others in the death matches. His feet guided him to the location and he spotted two talking, swallowing hard, Aito could feel the nerves of having to interact with strangers creeping in again. "Hello. Aito. Was told that I was here for a job?"
 
Relationship Status: It's Complicated
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P R O T E C T

Wearing:xxx
Weapons:xxx and xxx
Tag: Varick Lechner Varick Lechner

Gerwald had not wanted to sully their reunion with speaking of their sister’s actions, but if Varick did not know, he needed to. For so long the lupine had hesitated in reaching out to his elder brother. Had it not been for a previous diplomatic meeting they had both attended, Gerwald would not be having this reunion now most likely. He had been nervous because they had not parted ways on the best of terms. There had been strong feelings for the way Gerwald had left, but they seemed to be all forgiven now. After all, they were all that was left of their family.

The calm and love he sensed from his brother had been the first amount of peace Gerwald had felt in a long time. Yes, there were others who had helped, but this, it was the removal of a long held anxious burden. In that moment the lupine could feel the weight of it fall off his shoulders. For the first time in a long time someone close to him was removing a trouble rather than adding to the ones which already plagued him.

Gerwald chuckled at the next comment.

“Who are you calling old,” he teased.

The years had been kind to them both. Each brother found themselves where they needed to be. Both of them were leading the respective force orders of the nations they served. Had anyone told Gerwald this would be the path their lives took when he was child, he would have never believed it. They had come far.

There would be more to say, but Varcik was interrupted by the sounds of an attack. Suddenly memories of Ryloth flooded to his mind. Gerwald had been there when the planet had been attacked. He had been tasked with providing security for a clansmeet of the Rylothi tribes. Fortunately Varick had been quick to act in order to protect those that were on the dias.

Panic began to take those who were part of the crowd. Before answering his brother, Gerwald grabbed one of the security team which ran past him by the collar.

“Help get the children out of the streets and back to their parents…”

His head turned to Varick after letting the man go, and nodded. A quick extension of his hand called his newest lightsaber to hand. The construction was of Gerwald’s own making, a new blade for a new role. The Knights Obsidian had recently experienced dark times, and the winter wolf had chosen the symbol of the sun. The yellow blade, the sun blade, would light a path forward for the Knights. Today it would cause devastation to those who would seek to bring Cantros under oppression once more.

“Well not quite like old times… It will be an honor to fight beside you once more,” Gerwald said, his eyes turning a sickly shade of yellow as he called upon the force to aid him.

He did not wait for Varick before running off south west of their location. Stretching out his senses with the force, the lupine located the origin of the shots.

“We should eliminate the shooters first.”

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Dimitri Voltura

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TAG: Eenia Vahn Eenia Vahn | Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner | Varick Lechner Varick Lechner | Open
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The red embers flashed in anger.

He had not fully recovered psychologically from Bastion, so Eenia's reactions were pressing buttons that would normally never be pushed. He narrowed his glowing eyes at her sarcastic use of his title, but he kept quiet as he marched into the crowd at the festival.

With the Force already draped like a tumultuous, Dark cloak around him, he could easily sense something was brewing. He had spent enough centuries spreading fear within the Galaxy to know the presence of malice and malcontent.

And it was close.

The Obsidian Lord scanned the area, his hand resting on the hilt on his belt. Being what he was, he rarely needed to use his lightsaber. Yet, just sometimes, it was necessary. Nothing seemed out of place as of yet, but he could feel the chaos building, nonetheless. The Sith glanced back at Eenia.
"Do you sense it?" he asked her in a dead tone. The Dragon had started shutting out weaknesses from his mind.

And then shots were fired all around.

Panic wreaked havoc through the crowd. People were running in all directions, trampling those that fell. Children were crying at the noise and chaos, unsure of where their parents were. The Sith Lord parted the crowd like he would a bushel of reeds in front of his face with the Force.

And then the red lightsaber ignited.

Darth Hydrus had caught sight of some of the shooters on the far end of the square. Forgetting about his Apprentice for a moment, the Energy Vampire moved in a blur in a south west direction.

As Dimitri moved, he caught sight of the bright sun blade of his Lord Commander moving in the same direction, albeit much slower. Yet, the Sith Lord felt little about reinforcement. Moving ahead, a red blur shone bright before the first shooter that was still in range, even realised it. Dimitri had already moved past the rebel and had finally halted to a stop before the terrorist's head fell from his shoulders.

The Dragon has taken flight once more.

And the Snake hissed in triumphant laughter in his mind.

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Rusty

Purveyor of Fine Weaponry
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"RORO," Rusty said simply.

The acronym, short for Roll On/Roll Off, was near meaningless without the proper context. It was also the culmination of the Shard's short term planning, in terms of sales and marketing.

Just about every government, from nation-state to planetary to interstellar, had need for the means to rapidly deploy troops in a hostile environment. The easiest way, from the perspective of a military force conducting an incursion on a potentially hostile planet, was via dropships. That catchall designation covered everything from troop transports designed to haul a squad of infantry to hulking beasts designed to handle heavy walkers and tanks. This decentralized, swarmlike approach had a number of distinct advantages. For starters, it ensured that no one ship being hit by hostile fire would or could disable an entire force. Small pieces might be damaged or destroyed, but the chances of the majority making it to the ground were higher. It also gave a tactical commander a certain flexibility when it came to deploying troops and equipment.

The downside was, it wasn't especially efficient at creating concentrations of force in any one spot. In that sense, its greatest strength, decentralization, was also its greatest weakness. Coordinating largescale assaults became as much a matter of ATC, or Air Traffic Control, as anything else, and that necessarily diffused the strength of a landing force in order to avoid messy collisions.

For military historians, the classic example of a dropship invasion was the Old Republic's initial invasion of Geonosis, at the outset of the Clone Wars. Republic forces had indeed been able to land massive troop concentrations in short order, but the diffusion of its tactical strength had created an unnecessarily complicated and costly battle that was largely won by weight of numbers and surprise, rather than tactical brilliance. To be sure, the cost in clone lives was inconsequential to the morally bankrupt but monetarily wealthy Republic, who could just buy new troops off the assembly line. The fact that the war had been designed from the outset by a Sith Lord to create the necessary circumstances to seize absolute power wasn't lost on military historians either. Despite that, the Geonosis Campaign's outsized influence on military planning still continued to this day.

Rusty sought to change that, or at least, update it. The concept of Roll On/Roll Off predated space travel by a significant margin, and was developed on many worlds in parallel. The basic gist was simple: a single vessel, large enough to contain a significant fighting force, could be landed on hostile shores under escort, and then disgorge an intact fighting element, complete with armor, artillery, stocks of ammunition, and other vital supplies. To load, you rolled the equipment on (everything was either loaded in trucks or palletized) in the reverse order in which it would need to be unloaded, and then rolled it off when you reached the destination. Roll on, roll off.

The same concept worked equally well when applied to dropship philosophy. Rather than spreading one's tactical strength out across a large theater of operations, a RORO ship could land under escort, and its fighting complement could be unloaded in short order. The size necessitated by the RORO ship increased the ease with which it could be targeted, to be sure, but that also meant that it could boast much stronger protection, both active in the form of shielding, and passive in the form of armor, than the smaller ships typically used.

The advantages went beyond merely tactical considerations, as well. From a logistical standpoint, a handful of larger ships were easier to transport and operate than a swarm of smaller ones. Fewer hulls meant fewer engines burning less fuel. Supplies could be concentrated in fewer locations as well, cutting down on the number of administrative personnel, and unit integrity could be maintained in transit, making last minute training and rehearsals much easier to conduct. And since Oxidation Industries was set to provide everything from the ships, to the armor, artillery, gear, weapons, even training aids and simulators. All the customer would have to do was supply the bodies.

To someone who knew their stuff, the implications would be clear. Rusty's response, and the datapad he passed over with the same written on the surface, was a litmus test of sorts. Anyone who dealt with him knew that eccentricity and fantastic arrogance were two of his calling cards. If John Locke John Locke knew his stuff and was interested, maybe they could do business. If not, well, it wouldn't be the first time Rusty's intransigence had cost him clients.
 

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TAG: Dimitri Voltura | Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner | Varick Lechner Varick Lechner
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The anger was almost palpable as it radiated from the shoulders of her Master, but in that exact moment Eenia's focus was not on him. The unfamiliar pettiness had taken a back seat almost as quickly as it had made itself known, and her attention had gone beyond Dimitri. One thing about Nia was the fact that she had always had a natural, strong connection to the Force. A connection that danced a very fine, gray line, but strong regardless. So when Dimitri had started to speak to her, to question her senses, she had help up a hand and shushed him - without the heat or bitterness of the ill between them.

She was concentrating, reaching out beyond just the pair of them, and then she breathed a very simple word: "Guns."

And just like that, chaos erupted. The noise of both gunfire and people wrenched Eenia from her concentrated state, and she moved without even acknowledging where or which direction Dimitri had gone. The sheer panic of these people, cries of pain, that was where her focus was now. Nia moved deeper into the crowds, having to fit her way through them as she attempted to go against the flow of panicking bodies. There were brief moments when she could see the colors of ignited lightsabers, but her feet continued to carry her forward through the scrambling crowd.

Eventually she found herself in range of shots fired, and instinct screamed at her; A pair of bodies, a mother no younger than Eenia herself was and a child she was clutching. Immediately the blonde's lips set into a thin line and she reached out for the pair, and as soon as she had one hand on them both, Nia took a deep breath and her eyes rolled closed. The space between where the trio had been, and out of firing range was closed in a mere blink of movement, Nia having reached through that dark place to pull the three of them out of immediate harm's way. Teleporting was not something she cared to do for personal reasons, and considering she had never carried people, she doubled over almost immediately after and nearly lost everything in her stomach.

Nausea swam through her system, making her close her eyes tightly against it for a hot minute before her attention returned to the mother and child, the former who was understandably subdued by her own nausea now. "Here, let me see him." the Apprentice didn't exactly wait for permission considering the mother's condition, but she did kneel close. Considering the immediate area wasn't exactly safe, she would have to do this quickly. With one arm supporting and cradling the child, the free hand of Nia's other extended over the boy's forehead. The blonde's eyes closed and she focused first on her own breathing before she trained in on the boy's instead.

Slowly, carefully her hand moved down the length of the boy's frame, hovering but never actually touching at first. And then she paused at a place on his side, and there her hand lowered to press against the wound the child had received. Concentration intensified on the young woman's face, focus there on that spot as she mended the wounds she found there. The boy's breathing steadily regulated, and once Nia was sure there was nothing else he couldn't heal from naturally on his own, she handed him back to his now tear soaked mother. "Get him out of here, quickly." she instructed, and then got back to her own feet.

Eenia could feel the shaky strain in her legs and that slight weakness in her core from the energy expended, but she also knew it would replenish. Her gaze then lifted to look briefly for Dimitri, but when he was not found she sighed through her nose and shift her focus back to the crowd. She could at least help to protect, heal, and get more people out of the area, if nothing else.



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Zakar Vass

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Caio Caio \ Vidia Vudrirn

"I...what" he stumbled over his words at the request. He wasn't even sure he'd heard him correctly. "The schedule" he repeated the unfamiliar word. Caio had been educated somewhat on Coillte and there'd been intensive classes upon entry to the First Order's military but he still struggled with spoken Basic, let alone written ones.

"Sorry I..." he said, squinting at the schedule. Some words jumped out at him, others were gibberish. "It doesn't look like it's in Basic" he lied triumphantly, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying anything more.

Zakar stared at the man blankly, masking his confusion. I don't need the Force to tell me he's lying. That's clearly basic. The confusion shifted into concern. He can't tell me what the itinerary says, because he can't read it. How is that possible? He's clearly very young- maybe a conscript. How do we put guns in children's hands before checking if they could read?

Zakar was about to ask Caio deeper, more probing questions when out of the corner of his eye he saw Minister Vudrirn make her way over, perhaps having viewed the exchange.

"Allow me to assist...we should be due to-" Vidia's voice was cut off by an explosion near the entrance of the building that shook everything within the negotiation chamber.

Zakar was nearly knocked off his feet again by the explosion, but was saved by Aidra, who had been hovering closely during the talk with the trooper. "I'm fine", he said distractedly, as he scanned the area. It would have been hard to believe this was a stately affair only moments ago. Chaos had subsumed the summit; screams, yells, and sounds of blaster-fire getting closer.

Vidia, having finished issuing orders to the security detail, introduced Zakar to her aide Keren and armed herself.

"This...is not what I had hoped for today." she said ruefully.

Zakar grunted his assent and flicked his wrist, allowing his lightsaber to fall out. "Indeed. But it seems that the intelligence assessments were accurate. Our presence has emboldened these extremists to take action." He paused as the sounds of the blaster-fire got closer.
 
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Caio's stomach clenching got worse as the Minister for Defense approached them. He was willing the ground to open up and engulf him. They'd had a lieutenant-colonel address them at training before, that was the highest rank he'd seen before today. Worse was how she'd casually wandered over for a chat. Maybe the wall would take him if the floor wouldn't.

His prayers were answered...in a fashion. An explosion rocked the building and he barely kept his feet. The Defense Minister was first to recover, barking orders with calm authority despite being there in high heels and a dress. Now the familiar sound of blaster fire could be heard. He clutched his rifle tightly, a little wide-eyed while his mind tried to process what was happening. His own officer was somewhere else in the building but the comms seemed to be jammed. He'd been told to protect VIPs so that's what he'd be doing.

A scream came from one of the entrance corridors and Caio risked a peek. Smoke was drifting across the hall but shadowy figures were moving through it. He brought up his rifle but hesitated, unsure whether or not they were friendly. They'd been briefed that Cantrosian security would be heavy but the separatists were Cantrosians too.

The question was answered a second later as they started firing, making him duck back inside the auditorium. "Contact!"

Zakar Vass Vidia Vudrirn
 

Tellu Talon

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CUT

Runar Ulfsson Runar Ulfsson | Var Talon Var Talon | Srina Talon Srina Talon


Like a thriller did she linger forward, jaw ajar, and then fully open.

Lights on at home the argent tones came around again, flickered back off and on.

The master, master of puppets continued to pull at the strings unknowing that he was about to be like Alderaan.

Neurons fired opening up as control of Tellu was slippin' from the Soothsayer's grasp.

Fast he tried to work, and as he worked he did not see and could not feel the death and damnation that had come for him, clashed.

Var Talon went to work and the Soothsayer was smashed, the puppet master gone - control withdrawn.

Upward forward unto dawn, and the clouds above looked as if heaven was shoved.

The skeletal form below fell into limbo frozen there as it met with the earth.

Search the heavens as the light descended onto the ground, feeling around for a form.

A bright orb began to form in the sky, grey skies rolled thunder roar.

It sored across the treetops, across the canopies as the torn open heavens closed its doors.

Bones scattered across the dirt and grass, fragments of a physical form.

The orb continued to glow, the light grew brighter and brighter.

It called out before them it called out their names.

It was different from before but somehow felt the same.

The orb called out:

VAR

SRINA



 
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TEA AND TECHNOLOGY

Outfit: Outfit | Taozin Amulet | No-Show Watch
Tags: Fevris Derzelas Fevris Derzelas | John Locke John Locke | Ryssa Yvarro | Rusty Rusty | NAKAIOMA NAKAIOMA

Ryssa’s response hadn’t taken the shi’ido by surprise, in fact, she had banked on it. It was why she had introduced herself rather than allow the woman who had stolen her heart, to do so. For she had a theory and the theory had become almost fact. Almost. Another factor that came into play, was the ignored handshake and she felt an inward smile within her mind. The woman felt no malice, nor did she even feel slighted at the other woman’s reaction and so, her gaze shifted to the wares that they now all seemed rather interested in. Something which the assassin couldn’t say she truly knew the inner workings of. Her strengths lay within the psyche of others, not within the inner mechanics of technology; however fascinating and extreme that the individual pieces presented were.

It was then that her gaze took note of the slight movement beside her and she glanced over to view John. Something in her previous words had struck home it seemed, but his eyes reflected a playfulness, a hint of rebelliousness and a light smirk tugged at the corners of her lips at man’s words. Slowly she leaned forward an inch towards John and she lifted a pale finger to lightly touch the side of her nose. ”For you, John, I can pretend-“ The woman chuckled softly as she straightened up only to continue, ”But as you know, nothing in this world is free. It’ll cost you.” Shalita said as she followed up the sentiment with a wink. While the words were said in jest, she did make a mental note to follow up with the man later. The Minister had plans and to enact those plans, she would need something that perhaps only John could provide. Technology that she could trust.

Icy blue eyes shifted to view the woman beside her once again and listened to the melodic tones of the doctor’s voice. At least to her they were, for they were tones that had seduced the assassin who had once never believed that there was someone who could ultimately do so. Not only that but she felt the hand which interlaced fingers and created a closeness that the dark shadow quietly took pleasure in. Slowly, her grasp tightened upon the hold in a way that could not be described in any other was, as a possessive grip. Such a connection had only complicated a great many things for the assassin and so, being appointed as Minister of Secrets had come at just the right time. Even with her new position, she still instinctively made sure to know where all of the entrances and exits were. Not to mention that she kept tabs on her only weakness, a weakness that she wanted to make sure that could not be used against her.

Fevris’s voice drew her attention back to the exploding spiders at hand and a slow smile curved her lips. ”Indeed, they are a rather explosive distraction.” Shalita remarked while her gaze shifted to view the man beside her, if only to hear what he had to say. Such observations were fascinating to say in the least and the man had a way of being rather forward with his approach. An approach that saw the assassin lift a brow in response, as it was the complete opposite of what the Shi’ido would do. Her approaches were often subtle and less forward, but often that was how most things had to be approached in her line of work. The woman could also imagine that a man in his position needed to be forward; a trait that could be useful in certain situations.

While a datapad had been presented to John, the pale woman noted that Nakaioma had also seemed to be noticed by all that she accompanied. Ice blue touched upon Rusty, Ryssa, Fevris and soon her head angled ever so slightly so then her gaze could openly touch upon Ishii Daiyu. ”Indeed. Many possible connections are here tonight.” Shalita softly murmured while her thumb lightly traced the pulse within the good doctor’s wrist.​
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