Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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


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The colors made little sense around Percival Io Percival Io . She'd noticed it earlier, but the more he spoke the more she realized it. There were no colors, not like the people around her. Yet he looked human. Shouldn't he be giving out colors? Iris wanted to figure it out, but as the man continued to speak she couldn't help herself. The young Jedi stepped forward, through the crowd. She could see their colors. They were tired. Weary. They didn't want to fight.

Pushed, and they would. Iris wouldn't let them be pushed.

"These people are beaten and tired. Take your warmongering elsewhere and let them rest."
 
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As the girl made a sudden movement toward him, Percival instinctively turned the gun in her direction, though he kept the barrel pointed downwards. She stopped at the edge of the crowd, keeping her distance, but like a little bird, she kept chirping.

There will be time for rest when the work is finished,” he replied, now a little more wary of the outspoken medic. But he continued to address the crowd around her. “One cannot sleep when enemies are nearby. If you want your homes to be safe, you’ll have to learn how to defend them. House Io is offering not just weapons and tools, but training in how to use them. Charros IV need never again know these horrors.

He gestured to the barren landscape. As he spoke, the other Neutralizers continued to infiltrate the refugee camp, their own medics arriving to treat the sick and injured.

 

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There were soldiers for this. Iris knew that much. Making civilians fight after everything they went through.. She shook her head. The Padawan turned to the crowd, no longer addressing Percival Io Percival Io directly and now actively undermining whatever it was he was trying to do. Whatever the reason, she couldn't let these people be convinced to go and fight. Not after how wounded they'd been.

"You've survived a genocide. The war is over. Don't go back to war. Don't go back to killing. Defending yourself is one thing, but to seek out the Bryn and kill them only makes you just like them."
 
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The crowd was tired, sick, hungry… and angry. Angry that the Silver Jedi hadn't bothered to restore the world they had once ruled over, leaving the people to rot in the craters of their lost civilization. Angry that no one but the salvagers seemed to care that their planet had been savaged, and yet they were still here. Still alive.

Still able to fight.

“I accept your arms and your offer of training,” one of the refugees said. “We must fight to keep what is ours. Never again!”

The cry was rejoined by a few others, then more and more as it became a chant.

Never again! Never again!”

Percival couldn’t help but smirk a little as he glanced at the girl, wondering if she would still try to undermine him now.

I rolled a 16 Iris Arani Iris Arani
 
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She could see it in the colors. The wave that dimmed the already dim shades of blues and reds. People were angry. Sad. But this had pushed them to the point she dreaded. A point they wouldn't listen. What could she do? Her gaze shifted to Percival Io Percival Io , only to see the man smirking. Smirking. Horror filled her gaze. What person would smirk about this? Riling people to fight for their homes could be seen as noble, but to smirk like he'd won a game?

Iris left. She wouldn't be able to help them anymore, but maybe she could find someone who could? A Master that could talk these people out of this horrible path they'd chosen before it really was too late. Head down the Padawan left the camp to head for her ship. She needed to find someone to stop this madness.
 
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Percival watched the obviously upset girl go. Rather than returning to her work, she left the camp altogether.

While it seemed he had scored another victory for House Io by winning over the crowd, it was a fragile win. He wondered if the girl had powerful friends—people who would step in and strong-arm the refugees back into submission out of fear of rebellion. After all, he had seen similar done before on other Scar Worlds, especially where there was a local criminal element that had set up shop in the absence of any true authority.

He spoke to one of the other Neutralizers in their secret sign language. [She may bring someone here to try and stop us. I will follow her.]

The Neutralizer nodded and motioned to the others. His comrades continued to distribute goods and weapons, but now with a defensive perimeter set up around the camp.

Meanwhile Percival set off on foot, trailing quite a ways behind the girl. As he walked, the thought crossed his mind: it might be a lot easier to just kill her. But no—he couldn’t just go around murdering people.

Not unless she attacked him first, anyway.

 

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Away from the crowd the dim colors faded from her sight. It helped her to relax, think. She was right to step away. Her, just a Padawan, trying to tell all these people they didn't need to fight when a group came offering the temptation of weapons and vengeance wasn't even an uphill battle. She didn't know how to talk to people. Or stop them from violence. She stepped over to her X-Wing, reaching for the ladder when something off in the colors caught her attention.

Her gaze shifted, looking behind her. Squinting. Someone was there, but.. She couldn't see them. Not physically, or in the colors. A cold sweat went down her spine. Why had someone followed her? Or was she overreacting?

"Who's there?"

Percival Io Percival Io
 
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The girl was headed for a starfighter, an X-Wing to be exact. Was she leaving the planet? Percival’s worries turned to fears. He couldn’t control who she told about what she had witnessed here if she left Charros IV.

Eliminating her was proving an increasingly beneficial option. No one was around to witness the act, or try to stop it…

He heard that chirpy birdlike voice again, even though they were alone. She could somehow tell he was there, even though he had endeavored to keep his movements as stealthy as possible. Was it possible she was a—?

Taking cover behind some rocks, Percival unholstered his disruptor… and hesitated. Why hesitate now, when he had no choice? He thought of all the ways a single person could harm their efforts here, and on all the Scar Worlds. The hard work that could be undone if it attracted the wrong kind of attention. He had to end her.

Steeling his grip, he spun around, took aim, and fired.

 

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Her question was met with a darkening to the colors. A brief, pitch black. Lethal intent. Her blade came to life as she let the Force take over. The shot came, and her blade came around to knock the bolt away. Only for Domxite to flash with warning. Their natural meld had the Padawan instead roll away from her ship. Good choice, given what happened to her ship as soon as the bolt hit it. It vaporized a large chunk.

Immense worry filled her gaze as she turned tail and ran to the other side of her ship. She didn't know what had happened. She'd never seen a disruptor. But Domxite was adamant they avoided the weapon. Too many unknowns.

"Whoever you are, we don't have to fight! Just- go away!" Not very convincing, and she knew it. She gripped the hilt of her blade tighter. "Why are you attacking me!?"
 
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Hearing her cries, he knew his shot had missed. Instead it had blown a chunk out of her vessel. She wouldn’t be leaving the planet anytime soon.

Again he felt that temptation to let her go, now that she was stranded and the most immediate danger had been dealt with. But he was in too deep now.

He squeezed out two more shots before pausing again, afraid the disruptor would overheat. If she survived them, she probably would have seen him peeking out of cover behind the rocks by now. Probably would have recognized his face from earlier, too.

Definitely in too deep.

 

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Instead of an answer, more shots. Danger flashed in her mind. With Domxite's insistence to dodge rather than block, Iris was in a whole new level of trouble. Her body twisted, dodging out of the way of the twin shots as she went for cover. Or, at least, that had been the goal. As she got behind her ship out of sight of Percival Io Percival Io , the pain hit all at once. In horror her gaze fell to her hand just in time to watch the last bit that connected her pinky to her hand turn to ash.

Panic. Fear. Pain. She hastily ripped off part of her sleeve to wrap around what remained of her knuckle and staunch the blood that had started to pour. On the ground, the rest of her pinky just fell apart. What was that. It was the only thought in her mind. She'd never heard of technology that could turn flesh to ash. And her ship, that was ruined, wasn't it? If that's what a glancing shot did to her hand, then..

Her grip tightened on Domxite's metal housing. The Rainbow Gem did it's best to share the burden of pain that lanced through her mind, to help her think. She couldn't escape with her ship, but there had to be others. But who was shooting at her? She didn't dare look back. She needed to escape, but dodging blaster fire wasn't something she trained to do. Something that didn't give off enough color for her to track was hunting her.

"H.. Hey!" Her voice cracked before she could stop it. She bit her cheek, forcing her heart to relax. She couldn't devolve into panic, not here. Not now. She was alone. "I'm a representative of the New Jedi Order! If you leave now, charges won't be pressed." Iris was absolutely pulling this out of thin air. She was certainly not a representative. But she kept going regardless. Maybe this could be ended without conflict.

"The order has already been alerted and is on their way!"
 

Kade Kol-Rekali

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Kyra Perl Kyra Perl | Joza Perl Joza Perl | Peyton Steele

The injured organic tossed sand particulate at his chest. The granules bounced off his chassis. IK-0N looked down, then back up.

Another organic spoke, her features appeared similar to the injured one. IK-0N estimated an 86% probability that they were blood relatives. Her question confused him, however, as he found his memory bank corrupted.

“I don’t know,” replied the droid, his body almost drooping. “My files are incomplete. Do you know why?”
 
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Shot at three times by a disruptor, and she was still alive?

He’d have to work on improving his aim.

Or at least, improve on his skills when it came to dealing with Jedi. He heard the dull whine of an activated lightsaber, then the girl yelled out that she was a representative of the New Jedi Order, one of Mother’s most loathed enemies. Percival had been programmed to share his creator’s hatred of all Jedi, viewing them as self-righteous, arrogant fools. It certainly explained the girl’s attitude, and the lightsaber lent credence to her claim, though he supposed she could be lying in a desperate effort to intimidate him. No charges pressed, really? After I shot at you with an illegal weapon?

Granted, this was the Scar Worlds, a lawless place. But the Jedi coming here was not something he wanted, and if she had already notified someone… Percival had no idea as to the extent of the girl’s sincerity. But he had determined that he was going to kill her.

Much like he had wanted to kill the cartel thugs on another ruined planet like this one, only to be interrupted by an old friend of Mother’s. Laertia Io would be embarrassed, the Kubaz had said of his behavior. Yet Mother had made him this way, with a lust for blood and violence.

You are in too deep. You cannot doubt yourself now. You must commit to this decision. You are a gardener, and she is a weed.

Abandoning his cover, he moved around her ship, trying to get a good view of her. Once she was in his sights, he raised his disruptor and fired again.

 

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They're coming. Be brave.

Domxite whispered the warning in her mind, and she tensed. Whoever it was didn't want to talk. Only fight. Kill. There was no doubt in her mind the weapon was going to kill. She stayed low, using her X-wing for cover. She still didn't know the type of weapon Percival Io Percival Io was using. Too many unknowns left her woefully unprepared. But.. Maybe? With the warning in mind she slipped free one of her spray paint cans.

It'd worked before, why not now?

Her eyes widened in recognition once Percival stepped into view. The preacher from before? Was this because she tried to stop him? No time to think. She ran forward, once more letting the Force propel her motions. When the shot came rather than dodge out of the way or use her lightsaber, she threw the can. The bolt impacted, immediately disintegrating the durasteel canister.

And letting loose a cloud of color. Blue filled the air between them as the highly condensed liquid was released. Iris ran around it, trying to use it as a distraction to close the distance. And if the gap was closed her blade would come up, cutting to try and sever Percival's gun hand.
 
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Blue filled his vision.

Paint splattered Percival’s clothes and skin, globs of the stuff clinging to his hair and eyelashes. He blinked to keep it out of his eyes, and saw too late that the girl was charging at him, her blade flashing…

But while her lightsaber made contact with his wrist, sending the acrid stench of burnt flesh into the air, it failed to sever the limb. Something resisted the blow—the power glands distributed throughout his body to prevent such dismemberment at the hands of a lightsaber-wielding Force User.

Percival leaped out of the way all the same, clambering up on top of the half-melted remains of her X-Wing.

You are difficult to kill, Jedi,” he said. The disruptor was still in his hand, and still pointed at her. Four shots spent and eight more to go before he had to reload, he still had to be careful of overheating. Right now, the pistol felt incredibly warm to the touch. “But I can’t have you reporting on our operations here.

His other hand was reaching for something on his belt.

 

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Her saber didn't cut through.

Iris blinked and immediately tried to disengage, though Percival Io Percival Io seemed to have the same idea. With space between them, well. Usually the Padawan would feel more relaxed. But the threatening blaster was a source of stress for sure. She'd chosen to go for a debilitating cut instead of a disarming cut. How ironic. Was pain really something that pushed her to try and cleave flesh first instead of weapons?

Her lips thinned as she took a step back. Both hands still gripped the hilt of her saber, despite the pained protest from the ruined part of her hand. If Domxite hadn't been sharing her pain, it'd likely be too overwhelming for her to even think straight.

What should we do?

Running may be our only option. There are others here. Find a safe place to request help. You need to tend to your wound.

Blood continued to leak through the makeshift bandage around her hand. There was a medkit in her X-wing, but that did little to help now. "Those people are tired and hurt. Why can't you let them rest?" It was the first time he spoke. And speaking meant he wasn't shooting at her at least, so she grabbed onto the opportunity.

"Why make them kill?"
 
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Why make them sit defenseless when the next conqueror comes?” he retorted. “The Force helps those who help themselves. You Jedi want them to be complacent and passive. I can’t imagine why.

The sarcasm evident in his tone made it clear he had a few ideas. Perhaps the Jedi and the factions they attached themselves to hoped to rule over these people themselves, using economics or politics instead of brute force. Generate a crisis, then take control under the guise of offering assistance.

Percival’s hand, reaching for his side, apparently went unnoticed by the Jedi. He pulled the lightsaber from his belt and ignited it. Ironically, his blade was also pink—his sister Cameron Crownwraithe Cameron Crownwraithe had probably modified it as a prank, what with how much she’d giggled when mentioning the color. He simply hadn’t gotten around to replacing the crystal yet.

He also didn’t really know how to use the thing. Hopefully it operated similarly to a typical sword, just weightless and with a blade that could burn through almost anything.

For good measure, he squeezed off another disruptor shot. She was close enough to him that he thought he had a pretty good chance of it hitting its mark, but given her track record of dodging so far, he wasn’t counting on it.

 

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"Then protect them and teach them to defend themselves. You're riling them up for war." That's what she couldn't understand. That she couldn't allow. Her grip squeezed much more tightly around her blade. Another small step back. She couldn't cut Percival Io Percival Io . His weapon disintegrated flesh and metal both. And- Oh. He had a lightsaber? If she didn't have a good enough reason to run with all the unknowns before, she did now. With no knowledge on how well he might use his blade with everything else she chose retreat.

So she ran. The shot came and her senses flared with warning just as she turned. This time she tucked in her arms, not willing to let herself get clipped again. Domxite and the Force kept her this time, but how long could she keep this up? She was in a full sprint, running to the closest cover she could to get away from the threat.
 

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Physical enhancement was one of those things Iris had yet to learn. The android easily caught up to her. Domxite flooded her mind with warning, as too did the Force. She spun, barely getting her saber around to catch Percival Io Percival Io 's strike. Clumsily, hastily. She gritted her teeth and yelped as what little footing she had had her falling back. He was much stronger than he looked. Like the cyborgs in the Maw.

Was he Maw too? There was dread there as she rolled, trying to make space. Trying to get to her feet. She couldn't out run him. She couldn't fight him. Panic gripped at her mind as her now trembling hands gripped her saber. She was on her feet. Defending. At least he cast aside the blaster, but what could she realistically do?

<No panicking, Iris.>

It was a memory, but enough for her to stop panicking. Her grip on the now blood coated hilt no longer trembled as she stared down Perci. "I don't want to fight. But I will if I must."
 

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