Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction The Exploration of Charros IV [The Scar Worlds & Friends]

The hot winds of the scarred world soon gave way to a cool darkness as they entered the cathredral factory. En as they ran, he caught glimpses of intricate stonework and carving - it felt like a sacred place, though he could briefly recall from the Galactic Republic's history lessons as a padawan that this very factory probably produced weapons that had been used to kill clone troopers thousands of years ago. I'll have to keep an eye out for anything like that too, won't I?

But that thought quickly faded into obscurity as that inkling of danger he had felt earlier changed to something else. Aggression violence, and death. Familar feelings to someone who had been forced onto the battlefield time after time, whether against dark siders or the Bryn'adul, but he sensed neither's presence here. He could sense fear and curiosity as well, which made him even more curious...and wary.

The man rounded a corner and nearly plowed into several brown-robed individuals. Fear permeated the group, and for a brief second, he wasn't sure why, until his eyes fell upon the hulking form of Krek Libera Krek Libera , her children, and a newly deceased corpse in their midst. He had only briefly encountered Twon Ketee in his stumbling around the Outer Rim, and the few he had met hadn't exactly been very talkative, nor very bright. But he had seen one very handily pick up and move some cargo containers that even a binary loadlifter would have trouble with. For a split second, he considered that it might have been accident of some sort, but the injuries that the being had sustained didn't exactly look unintentional. He briefly gave his padawan a side glance.

"Lanyria, you should step back for a moment..."

The nautolan nodded and retreated back towards Aleena Aryss, whose example the rest of the xi charrians quickly imitated . As they did so, the man unclipped his lightsaber from his belt, but he didn't activate the blade. Instead, he briefly titled his body just slightly to the side as he stared down the Twon Ketee queen.

"What happened here?"
 
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Perl Down!

"Oh chit—" Yula jogged towards her baby sister, y'know, the one who'd just been ragdolled across the surface of a scorched planet. A few feet to the left and she would have been dashed against the jagged stone outcrop of what used to be a wall.

Skidding to a stop on her knees, Yula suddenly found that she wasn't sure what to do. Healing had never been her forte—that was Nida's domain, and she wasn't here to patch up bruises—so she placed one hand on Kyra's shoulder, the other on her back, and rubbed. Hopefully some of the Force would perfuse into the redhead's body as a healing gesture. Or maybe… She looked up to Peyton.

"Can you heal? If she dies mom's gonna kill me. Or a medpack, yeah, that'll do too."

Kyra was conscious and snarking, which was good enough for Yula.

"Yeah, real sorry I forgot to mention the landmines strewn around. That was a detail I definitely knew, and actively kept from you. You know, like a joke."

Tapping into the comms, she sent out a message to the scouting team, and whoever would happen to tune into their channel.

"Tread carefully, folks. We just triggered some sort of mine, who knows what other goodies are lying in wait."

Turning back to the task at hand…

"Peyton, this is my sister. Sister, meet Peyton. Now that everyone's all caught up, what brought you to this desolate chithole?"

Kyra Perl Kyra Perl | Peyton Steele Peyton Steele
 
CHARROS IV
XI CHAR FACTORY
Travot Ravenna Travot Ravenna Aleena Aryss
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The brood ravenously consumed their kill, tearing apart the monk with their bare hands. While not yet fully grown, her children still had greater strength than the average human -- and, in their youth, hunger befitting twenty humans. Krek watched. Only when she saw newcomers arrive did she speak.

"BACK! HERE! STOP EATING," she barked in the guttural Ketee. Whether out of deference for their mother or some instinct of danger, they obeyed, jumping back to her. The corpse was nearly stripped to the bone already. The left arm and leg were gone completely, the robes the man had worn torn off completely, half the organs of his gut gone.

The first of the newcomers brandished a small metal cylinder that hardly seemed like a weapon, but Krek recognized it instantly. One just like it had been thrust through her heart. The scorch mark from the saber piercing her armor stood out on her breastplate, even among the myriad of blast marks. She now realized how lucky she was to have gotten out the last time. But now... was this one coming to hunt her down? She was hardly equipped if it came to battle.

Nonetheless she drew her blaster pistol and vibroknife, holding them in her lower hands, while her upper right still clutched the elder monk.

"This is our place," her vocabulator warbled in a deep, masculine voice. "Leave."

Her children growled and hissed, sensing their mother's warning.
 
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INITIATIVE SALVAGE TEAM
PROJECT HIVEBREAKER
CHARROS IV

Junker Jonn Junker Jonn
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"Ghosts? Plenty," Drake grimaced, "Just not the kind we found on Ossus."

Struggling against the scavenger's grip, Atlas had to admit he was pretty strong for a kubaz. Obviously their last encounter left quite an impression. When Jonn finally let go he brushed the ash off his survival jacket. Both of their crews still seemed unsure how to proceed until Captain Drake motioned for his people to lower their weapons.

"You haven't heard then? Drael pulled out of Charros in a hurry. Left some important tech behind. If the Ossus Initiative can get their hands on a hive stone, it could revolutionize our understanding of their command structure. Make it easier to hunt the rest down."

Of course there was a little more to the story but Jonn looked about ready to bolt and if Captain Drake wanted his help then the scavengers didn't need to know all the grisly details. At least not right away. This mission was too important for the Scar Worlds. Instead he tried a different approach.

"Apparently they're willing to pay a fortune," Atlas shrugged, "But its a big planet. I'm sure you have plenty of scrap to sift through. It was nice seeing you again, Jonn!"

He turned his back on the kubaz as if to leave hoping he'd played his sabacc cards right.
 
Kyra groaned against any fussing, shaking off any hands and disorientation alike. A hiss of a bacta stem in her neck soothed all the pain away, and just like that the ringing left her ears. Thank the force for that stuff.

Kyra sighed in relief and sat up.

what brought you to this desolate chithole?"

"Some half ass distress call, what's it to you?" And just like that they fell back into their old banter. It would have felt nice, if not for the ever pressing discord echoing from the collapsed warehouse within. They were running out of time.

"Oh, feck it," Kyra said to them both, jamming her speeder's gas peddle and sending it careening forward without a driver.

Mine after mine exploded in its wake, clearing a charred path through.


Yula Perl Yula Perl Peyton Steele Peyton Steele
 
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Location: Charros IV, Former Industrial Zone
Tags: Atlas Drake Atlas Drake
It was a relief when the guns were finally lowered; after everything Junker had been through, getting blown away by another scav crew in a moment of panic would've been... well, actually, it would've been just his luck. Maybe even a fitting end to his utter mess of a career. But for all the times that he'd loudly said otherwise when trying to hold the flaming trashheap that was Mek-Sha together, he didn't actually want anyone to put him out of his misery. No matter how bad things got, there were good parts to his life. At the end of the day, he could find his way back to his favorite cantina, drink a few too many fuzzy tauntauns, and listen to the best of the Galactic Opera until he fell asleep.

Sleep was great. He had to survive this so that he could go home and do more of that.

Pretty much none of what Atlas said before the words willing to pay a fortune registered, but that particular combination of syllables made the Kubaz perk up instantly. He didn't particularly care about hunting down the surviving Bryn, or Drael, or whatever; he kind of vaguely hoped someone would do it, but he wasn't the kind of man who really went in for revenge, a business that generally required a lot more risk than he was willing to take on. Sure, the Bryn had fethed Kubindi right on up, but Jonn was the kind of guy who focused on the present rather than the unchangeable past. Killing the rest of the shellfish wouldn't help him much today, and that was all he really cared about.

But a fortune? That was good news for right now, and for the immediate future.

"Well, now, hang on," Junker said, as Atlas began to turn away. His memories of the horrors he'd faced on Ossus because he'd gotten roped into one of Drake's schemes were still pretty fresh in his mind, common sense and experience warring with his greed... but they were losing. That was in the past, after all, the place where he didn't focus. Surely he'd used up all his bad luck last time, right? The universe was bound to balance itself out and throw him a bone on this one. "It's, uh... It's a big planet, like you said. And this..." He wracked his brain for what Drake had called whatever macguffin they were after when he hadn't been listening. "Swarm rock? It sounds important."

He tried to shrug nonchalantly, though he still betrayed his eagerness. "Maybe my crew can help you out. For a cut."
 

Aleena Aryss

Guest
A

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Location: Enroute to Charros IV
Appearance: Aleena

With the silver hilt of her lightsaber in her hand, she followed after Travot until they finally reached the source of danger they felt. People were in trouble, but of all the things that could have caused it, what she saw was beyond her expectations. At merely the sight of Krek Libera Krek Libera , Aleena took a visible step back.
Her hands moved down to her sides, hoping to hide the fact that they were trembling, and with widened eyes, she watched as the other Knight took a stance that showed his readiness to engage.
"Come here." Aleena almost whispered after Travot sent his Padawan back to join her. Even though Aleena wasn't a fighter, and scared to death, she wasn't going to hide behind a Padawan.
"Knight Ravenna, I'm here to help." she then said as she slowly moved to join him at his side, albeit slightly behind him. She almost wasn't sure herself why she joined him to help, but there was something about seeing Krek's children devouring the monk that made her realize she couldn't just stand by and watch.
If Travot were to fall, they'd all certainly be doomed. But if she could even help a little bit, they may all be able to walk out of here in one piece.
 
Travot eyed Krek Libera Krek Libera warily, taking note of the vibroblade and blaster pistol at the ready. More disturbingly, the alien displayed the remains of her latest victim so openly and casually that Travot had trouble keeping in mind that the Twon ketee were actually an at least semi-intelligent race, not entirely savage beasts. Some of the surviving Xi charrians panicked at the awful sight, one ran away screaming, but the others stood still, as if in shock at the ordeal. He frowned at the Twon Ketee's threat, though he took some measure in comfort at Aleena Aryss coming to his side. He quietly offered his thanks to her as she neared his side. Though not a warrior, she could likely provide some timely assistance, even if it were not combat related.

"I cannot allow you to hurt innocent beings, especially in their own people's holy places..."

While he had never faced such a being in conflict, he guessed that it would be like facing the Baedurin of the late Bryn'adul Covenant - impressive raw strength matched only by their casual brutality. He would likely have to make it a quick fight. He rapidlly tapped a pair of buttons on his lightsaber, causing a short, turquoise blade to spring forth - the typical Jedi or Sith might at first think it was a defensive shoto blade - and quickly brought it to a classic vertical guard found frequently by Soresu praticioners. Even as he did that, he fired a trio of discs from the lanvorak strapped to his left forearm. Thinking that quick action and surprise was more important, he hadn't made a precise aim with the weapon and set the dispersion spread a little high to compensate for it. The discs silently surged at the Twon Ketee neatly lined up almost vertically, aiming to destroy the blaster pistol or severe the alien's hand holding it. He prepared himself for the inevitable counterattack.
 
CHARROS IV
XI CHAR FACTORY
Travot Ravenna Travot Ravenna Aleena Aryss
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There was only one question on Krek's mind: What was innocent?

She had a vague idea. The defenseless ones, the sorts she'd once used to demoralize the enemy. But why did he care? The ones she'd seen alongside such warriors had all been of similar profession; soldiers and killers. These people were innocent. They were weak and easy to cow, bending with only the slightest pressure. Were these the allies he was bound to? What could they possibly offer?

She briefly regarded the elder monk squirming in her hand with a renewed interest, but the Jedi had no intention of leaving, so she shifted in anticipation. Weapon ignited, and- something. She pulled her right hands back, but she was still struck, some projectile slamming into her forearm. A second whizzed past, and a third glanced off the elder monk, causing him to jerk and cry in pain.

She threw him back, out of the way -- barking a command for her children to stay and not consume the old one. She then drew a longer, more wicked vibrosword, and leapt forward, swinging both weapons wildly and firing her pistol. Strong as Jedi were, she remembered being able to break the weaker one in a previous encounter, even if it wasn't fatal. This one had no backup.
 
Charros IV
Objective(s): Salvage, BYOO

As the trio approached the corner, Audren began to have a bad feeling and slowed. The Twi'lek was fully engrossed in his explanation and didn't notice in the slightest; he continued to walk ahead, though carefully, to his credit. As the Jedi puzzled over the feeling he was able narrow it down to Force-based, specifically upcoming danger getting more imminent by the second. He unclipped his lightsaber while focusing on the Force to try and determine the direction of the danger, though the blade remained unlit. The second engineer noticed this and stopped dead in his tracks with wide eyes.

"Hold up..."

Either the words weren't spoken loud enough or the chatter from the first engineer made it so he didn't hear. Maybe both. He rounded the corner and two seconds later fell back into view, screaming. The screams were accompanied by the sounds of gunshots. Not blaster shots, it was most like an automatic slugthrower in nature. A motion of grasping and pulling had cables of invisible Force power wrapped around the other man and pulling him back around the corner. Once safely behind cover they could see that he had a smoldering wound on his shoulder, but more importantly he was missing his left leg. There was very little blood, and it quickly became obvious that whatever had hit the leg had also mostly cauterized the wound. Still, there was some blood seeping from both injuries.

The first thing Audren did was point at the man and impress through the Force the lack of a need to stay awake. It didn't work, so the next was to club him on the top of the head with the hilt of his lightsaber. The screaming wouldn't help either of the others in stabilizing him or stopping the threat, and any thrashing would only endanger them. The Sephi pulled out the man's medical kit - he was wearing a survival suit after all - and handed the tourniquet to the other engineer along, a Chev woman. She began treating the leg while the Jedi began bandaging the shoulder. Like the leg there had been a decent amount of heat released, so much that the survival suit was melted to the wound. A pressure bandage went over that to seal it; a brace would be smart as well but the little belt kit didn't have anything fit for an entire shoulder. As he was tending the shoulder he saw that a chunk of lekku had likewise been blown away and bandaged that with a wince. Even if no brain injury came of this it would be painful for a good long while.

It seemed that the attack had started low then shifted high, otherwise the Twi'lek would probably be dead. The shots had tapered off, yet there was no sound of footsteps or repulsors to indicate the assailant was drawing nearer. Nor was there a sense of anything living in the direction the shots had come from. With a frown, the Sephi peeked around the corner to see...nothing. Well, not quite nothing. More equipment that had fallen off the 'racks' and jumbled other parts and pieces. Then abruptly the scene in view snapped into focus. He was looking at the wreckage of a small transport, maybe shuttle-sized. The spilled racks had been inside and when the thing had impacted the ground it had torn open, throwing the equipment all over. It had apparently gone through at least one wall from the temple since stones were scattered atop it. That had to have been what caused all the sensor and visual scans to miss it. Just outside the gaping hole in the hull was a body, and just beyond that body was a tripod with a mounted gun on it. An automated turret of some sort, shooting slugs that cauterized wounds.

Interesting.

Whatever the thing was using to target spotted the Jedi and it whirred to life, opening fire even as it moved. The first shot hit the ground and stuck, revealing a glowing red spike. Even as he ducked back behind the corner more shots hit that corner. These ones shattered though, spraying molten something all over. With three shots the corner had been burned through and more rounds followed. With a characteristic snap-hiss his lightsaber flared to life and intercepted the slug that probably wouldn't have hit but was coming too close for comfort. Much to his surprise the lightsaber nearly jarred out of his hand and that same molten something sprayed out. Fortunately, due to the angle, on a few drops hit his own suit; while it wasn't made to survive a dip in molten anything but a few drops weren't enough to do severe damage. So. Kinetic impact as well as a molten core; ammunition to avoid.

The next round that came through he didn't even both blocking with the lightsaber. Instead, a small Force-based shield deflected it off to one side. By then he was behind solid cover, having continued backing up since the shooting started, and the sensors couldn't hit him. So they were safe for now, but were effectively at a stalemate. The outlines of a plan began forming in his mind, but it depended on a few things. Time to roll the dice. He opened his comm channel.

"Central, Sykes. Automated turret onsite, Oowel'heko is seriously injured. We need a way to get him back to the Sûl quickly and safely. I also need eyes in the sky capable of sending a feed to my system ASAP."

His mind was back on the plan before the incredulous voice of Central returned an acknowledgement.
 
Travot winced as the half-eaten monk barked in pain. He's still alive? Not for much longer likely, unless Aleena can pry him away...His thoughts stopped there as Krek Libera Krek Libera launched herself at him, lashing out at him wildly in the process. He heard the loud boom of a slug before he felt it impact his right flank. It felt as if she swung a ball peen hammer at him - though the initially shock of the attack wore off, he could feel a burning sensation there now - thankfully his plate armor absorbed most of the brunt of it. But he didn't have much time to dwell on the potential injury there.

As the Twon ketee neared him, the jedi abruptly launched himself upward, using the Force to enhance his relatively lack of acrobatic abilities to bring him high enough to easily leap over and past the imposing alien. As he somersaulted forward, he whipped the blade downwards and nearly simultaneously ignited the dual-phase mechanism to suddenly make the blade longer - with some luck, he might have been able to slice her back or a limb, but he paid little attention to the result as he tumbled forward onto the ground. The saber briefly burned into the ground, creating an acrid smell and forming a small cloud of blackish dust around him. Instinctively he stood up after the tumble in the motions he had practiced so laborlessly first as a padawan so many years ago. He caught sight of the injured monk and using his left hand to focus the Force, telekinetically grabbed hold of the injured alien and tossed him haphazardly at Aleena Aryss . It was far from graceful or coordinated, but he was all he could do with such a fearsome foe nearby. He pivoted around on a heel to face his foe once more and promptly returned the lightsaber blade back to its shorter length.
 

Kade Kol-Rekali

Guest
K
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-


The blast of the mine dislodged a nearby scrap heap. The metal trash pile shook, then scattered like leaves as humanoid figure rose from the midst. A red photoreceptor in the figure's face came online and a heavily damaged droid turned its processing attention on Yula Perl Yula Perl , Kyra Perl Kyra Perl , and Peyton Steele Peyton Steele . Some sort of sword appeared to be magnetically clamped to the droid's back. And it wore a tattered cloak, which was odd as droids did not need clothing on account of being droids.

"Hel - lo," said a quaking, synthesized voice.

The photoreceptor shut on and off. On and off. Then stayed on.

IK-0N's systems were coming back online. It. He? He. He sustained heavy damage in the 01010010010001010011010101.

Annoyance. He could not play back that memory archive. The data was corrupted.

"I am Eye Kay Zero En."

The receptor focused on Kyra Perl.

"Organic. Are you injured? Scanning now."

A blue line began to glow on IK-0N's arm. He began retrieving files on why.

 
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INITIATIVE SALVAGE TEAM
PROJECT HIVEBREAKER
CHARROS IV

Junker Jonn Junker Jonn
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"Now that you mention it, we could use the extra hands."

With his back still turned the kubaz couldn't see Drake's smile. He produced a small holoprojector unit from his satchel and activated a topographical map of their immediate area. Bryn'adûl occupation had not been kind to Charros IV. Ruins slouched between blasted wasteland. It was difficult to imagine it had ever been a world abundant with life. Atlas marked out their position for Jonn to see.

"There's an old Drael stronghold a few klicks from here," he gave the scavenger a reassuring slap on his shoulder, "Don't worry, orbital scans show its completely abandoned. This will be a blue milk run. Promise."

Of course, there were one or two parts of the alien facility which were still shielded from sensors, but Jonn and his crew didn't need to know about everything that could possibly go wrong. Just getting there in this kind of unforgiving terrain would be dangerous enough. Anyone bold or desperate enough to work a scar world prospect knew the risks of setting foot planetside.

"My crew gets an extra five percent, but I'll let your boys have first claim on anything else we can scavenge."

Captain Drake extended an open palm, "We got a deal?"
 

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Location: Charros IV, Former Industrial Zone
Tags: Atlas Drake Atlas Drake
The silver-haired captain made it sound so simple. "Completely abandoned." "Blue milk run." These were the kind of things Jonn wanted to hear about salvage sites that might make him incredibly wealthy... but was Atlas telling him those things because they were true, or because he knew that was what the scav wanted to hear? The thought sent a flutter of nervousness through the Kubaz's heart. He didn't want to be a sucker, because he knew what happened to suckers. There were a thousand Outer Rim grifters out there, ready to part the unwary from their money. And, very frequently, their lives. Jonn didn't want to let that happen to him.

Then again, Atlas hadn't lied to him about the dangerous nature of the Red Dragon. Junker had been the one who'd insisted on coming along on what he'd explicitly been told was Jedi business, which he'd assumed at the time had been an excuse to steal the good stuff out from under his very long nose. He'd been wrong about that, to his peril, but Atlas had risked his own life to save him. If that was the kind of man the captain was, maybe this particular run was as simple and safe as he was saying. Maybe this was a real opportunity, a chance to cut down on his crew's aimless wandering around while they were looking for the most valuable scrap.

And only an extra five percent to Atlas's crew, in exchange for everything but the rock?! Easy money.

Junker made a show of considering it carefully, but his heart wasn't in it. Atlas seemed to be too honest for his own good; a 45 - 55 split was the kind of figure you haggled down to, not one you opened with. Had their situations been reversed, Jonn would've opened by offering a 70 - 30 split and negotiated from there. Was it suspiciously generous? Perhaps. Maybe Atlas was just too nice a guy to last out here, where people would take advantage of him... or maybe he'd shown up unprepared, without enough guys or equipment, and he was desperate. Whatever the case, the Kubaz decided to take the chance. He'd walk over lobster shells, and among their figurative ghosts, for this kind of money.

So long as the ghosts remained figurative, anyway.

"Alright, sure," Junker said, hiding his excitement... if poorly. "It's a bargain." He raised his palm to spit into it; the gross little ritual was a common part of frontier dealmaking. Unfortunately, he had forgotten that he was wearing a breath mask, and his saliva remained on the end of his own snout. Hoping that no one had noticed the hocking sound that had preceded disaster, he extended his hand as though it was all he'd meant to do all along, clasping Atlas's with a firm grip. "Drop me the coordinates, and I'll get my crew and their gear over there." He was already recalling his scouts on his wrist comm, readying them to head wherever the other captain directed.
 
It was nothing more than basic concussive injuries, the worst of which-- swelling and internal bruising-- was being repaired by the small stem of bacta.

Kyra blinked at the droid that rose out of the heat waves and questioned if he was really there. Maybe she hadn't gotten that shield up quite as fast as she should have. She picked up a handful of sand and tossed it at him. It bounced off his chest and scattered the blue light on his arm. Definitely real. What was he doing out here?

"...One of yours?" She asked Yula.

IK-0N Yula Perl Yula Perl Peyton Steele Peyton Steele
 
The blonde had to help out as she could. The world was fethed, it was dirty, it was hard to focus. She didn't have the training to really filter it all, and was going back to the side of her training that she knew how to trust. Five senses, the Force was messy, it was going to hinder her. What she could do was move. As she heard a click from Kyra's step, she dove to the side, away from Kyra, wishing she had a hard light shield, or even a bit of Force barrier. When the explosion went off she was still knoced back.

"Karabast." She shook her head, grabbing for her pistol.

Hearing the call from Yula, Peyton nodded. "I can patch her up. Medkit, mobile bacta." She nodded as she reached into her bag. Only a few bacta patches, but she knew how to use them. "I know who she is Yula. Kind of." She smirked and continued on, with the bacta patch.

"You good, Sister?"

It seemed like that was maybe too little too late as Kyra was already on the move. If what her information told her was true, well, this was the kind of reckless she expected. The blonde put her bacta back as she saw the speeder set off the mines.

"What is it with you and droids?" She readied her stun batons, turning up the output to knock a droid down.

Yula Perl Yula Perl
IK-0N
Kyra Perl Kyra Perl
 
"...One of yours?"

"I…no, I don't think so." The elder Zeltron squinted to try and make out what she could of the droid's build. Unfortunately, most of it was either buried or obscured by the cloak. A special weave, or perhaps a simple fashion choice?

"Keep that stun baton handy." Yula murmured to Peyton, noting the blare of a red photoreceptor. That wasn't a good sign. A few wide steps around the pile of debris and she could see the hilt of something fastened to his back. The Force shifted, soaking into Yula's hands like a slow, steady magnetic pull.

Maybe they'd make it out of here with some high-quality scrap.

"What brings you to this region, friend?" Her fingertips tingled, prepared for technopathic ministrations should it come to that. She'd successfully reprogrammed the rampaging droids on Bpfassh, but the raging units had been her own creations whose base programming was altered by a virus.

Who knew what kind of shoddy code this poor soul was running.

Kyra Perl Kyra Perl Peyton Steele Peyton Steele IK-0N
 
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Sitting in the passenger side of a House Io transport, Percival looked upon the wastes of Charros IV through the windows. Miles upon miles of cracked and scarred land stretched out in all directions. The planet had been arid before the invasion, but now it was ruined, desolate, unsuitable for even the hardiest of life.

The sight filled him with righteous fury. Though it was a programmed response—Percival had not even existed during the days of the Bryn’adul’s scourge—the fire within burned hot and unceasingly.

The transport came to a stop outside an old factory, where the local refugees had apparently taken shelter. While his fellow Neutralizers began to unload their precious cargo of food, medicine, and other supplies, Percival found a perch atop a rusted heap of metal and began to preach, just as he had done on a dozen other Scar Worlds.

They say that the meek will inherit the earth. You who remained here, who survived here in the face of armageddon, must be among the bravest souls ever to grace this galaxy. House Io has come to reward your strength of will and endurance, and to give you the tools to take back what is yours…

With a flourish, he opened a specially-marked crate, revealing a stockpile of weapons.

 
Living In Color
Codex Judge

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This was unlike anything she'd seen before.

Iris had only just started down her path as a Jedi during the Bryn'adul's conquest of the Galaxy. By the time she looked past the colors and learned enough to properly be a Jedi the wars had ended. But the problems and the need for help hadn't. She'd been wandering through the camp, helping where she could. Namely healing the wounded. She couldn't heal sicknesses, but broken bones, bruises, cuts.

She could mend those. And there was ever the abundance of wounded even after all this time.

It was peaceful for the most part. People were helping people. Tragedy had it's way to unite folks. Some in hate, others in compassion. It was the later Iris was fond of. And right now? Compassion united these survivors. But it wouldn't last. An odd color joined, spread. Something was happening. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she stood to leave the medic tent to see what was going on.

They say that the meek will inherit the earth. You who remained here, who survived here in the face of armageddon, must be among the bravest souls ever to grace this galaxy. House Io has come to reward your strength of will and endurance, and to give you the tools to take back what is yours…

She blinked. And frowned. Weapons?

"The Bryn'adul have fallen. There's no more need for war. Why bring weapons?"
 
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A voice in the crowd piped up. Percival turned to face the source—a young girl with short dark hair and a dopey, wide-eyed expression. She wore a blood-smeared uniform that marked her as part of a medical team, one unaffiliated with House Io.

"The Bryn'adul have fallen. There's no more need for war. Why bring weapons?"

To eradicate the remnants,” he replied. “Wars do not end when one side declares victory. It is much messier than that. Especially in the case of the Draelvasier, a genocidal race with a culture built around violent conquest and hatred of all other species.

Reaching into the crate, he removed a large blaster and held it up for the crowd to see.

I don’t need to tell you how it is. You all lived through it. No world touched by these beasts can find peace until the last of them lies dead. Justice must be served for what was done to you.

 

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