Dominion The Frontier War: Shrouded Sands | Enclave Dominion of Tatooine (Open to all Underworld Characters)

[Shai Maji]

THEME​

Even before the Confederacy’s fall, crime filtered back into the Outer Rim after the Enclave’s departure from Confederate space. Tatooine, arguably the most famous backwater in the Galaxy, had a long history of crime and scum calling the shots. Thousands of years ago, a company by the name of Czerka Corp ruled the planet, exploiting it in hopes of turning a profit at the expense of the populace.

Long after them, it was under the control of the legendary crime lord, Jabba the Hutt, who used the planet as the home for his infamous cartel. And once again, without any strong intervention to keep the peace, criminals crawled from the woodwork to use the dust ball as their base once again.

It’s time to clear out the parasites once again.

The Enclave’s presence grew quickly and now its sights are on Tatooine. More specifically, the cartel that began to flourish in the wake of the CIS’ fall, using Mos Espa as their base of operations. The Enclave’s target is the leader of this new cartel, an aspiring Pyke by the name of Miran Kril, hoping to expand his prospects deeper into the galaxy. Intelligence reports suggest that he is a big fan of podracing, which will prove handy in taking him out as well as his generals.

The Boonta Eve Classic, the most famous podrace in the galaxy, has been a big event for hundreds of years. Centuries ago, under Jabba’s rule, the Boonta Eve saw the first ever human to win. The Galactic Empire outlawed the sport during its reign, though it didn’t last very long. This year’s Boonta Eve Classic will be a perfect distraction for the Enclave to commence operations with, theoretically, little interference or resistance.

Spoiler: Objectives

​

• Miran Kril and his generals will be attending the Boonta Eve podrace, naturally taking the best seat in the house in the form of a private balcony overlooking the starting line. Si’kayha will take the lead on the operation. The job is to infiltrate, get past the guards, and take the top dogs out before anyone knows what’s happening. Ideally initiate the attack as the race is starting, when everyone is distracted for the most part.

​

• The leader and his generals aren’t the only concerns. Throughout the city are multiple hot spots with cartel members gathering for various reasons. Karjrs are tasked with taking point and searching cantinas, suspected warehouses, and the space port to clear out any operations or groups of cartel members. Be advised, there is a risk of the fighting spilling into the streets, so Si’kayha squads are tasked with aiding and supporting the Karjrs in their mission.

​

• Naturally, it would be a sin to miss out on the famous Boonta Eve. For the more adventurous types, the race has slots still open if they wish to participate in the deadly, dangerous high-speed sport, notorious for racers taking chances to drive each other off the track. Several spots are also open on the massive pavilions, and several cantinas are broadcasting the race live. Plenty of room to either kick back and relax, or get an adrenaline fix going.
  
  ooc note: Simple dice rules if members wanna use it for the race. One roll per round(standard d20 dice roll) to determine positions for 3 laps.

​

• Tatooine is a big planet with something always going on.

 

[Xyoz Maji]

Do crime Shai Maji said. It'll be fun Shai said.

The first path to the wonderful world of crime had been piracy. It was an absolute blast. Hell, he stole a casino. Not robbed from it. The whole fucking building was taken. How many people could say they did that? But shit, as always, went south. Way south. Before he knew it the crew he was flying with started picking fights with the one fucking group he didn't want to fight. Mandalorians.

So piracy was out. Gangsters though. Those were in. With the fall of the CIS Tattooine became the place to try and make a mark in the criminal underworld. Xyoz had done well for himself there. He'd gotten in with the local Crime Lord, climbed the ranks through bloodshed in a way only his near immortal ass could. So where did it all go wrong? "Look, hey, what's a couple credits between friends, huh? C'mon. Kril buddy. Can't you just overlook this teensy withdrawal?"

Xyoz was bound in chains, standing atop a metal grate. Staring up at the Pike Crime Lord Miran Kril. Who, like most of the others in the room, looked utterly unamused by his pleading.

"You were caught with five billion credits worth of art. From my vault. My personal vault."

"They were shabby paintings, I was just cleaning up the place a bit."

"They were made thousands of years before the dark time by Van Sho."

"Bah, old things that. No reason to keep trac- nowait!" The lever was pulled before Xyoz even had a chance to finish his sentence, and he was dropped into the pit. The feeding pit. How many people had been fed to the beasts in here? He grumbled a bit, sitting up on the hard rock just in time to see the grate close. And the nearby portcullis rose. He groaned, loudly, as the heavy footfalls sounded off.

"Oh fuck me."

 

[Ardasz Verd]

That's what the kids always said about these jobs. Young bloods, so eager to make beautiful violence. "It'll be quick and easy." How many times had he heard that, and watched everything go straight to hell?

"Damn good thing I'm young at heart," Ardasz muttered as he crossed the wires and sparks splashed across the dusty ground beneath his feet.
​

Security was tight. They were already on high alert with Mando'ade creeping throughout the sector, and with the fall of the Confederacy, any assurances the crime bosses had was swept clean off the table. All bets were off. It was too bad for them that the Black Ram never played by the old rules, and so the new ones meant nothing to him at all. "Hey, what's taking you so long?" An armed guard called out to the salt and pepper haired man as he tinkered with the electronics. The screams of spectators rattled the stands overhead as they stomped and clapped, ready for the start of the Boonta Eve classic. Ardasz shot back a wide smile as he fused two wires with a multi-tool.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "Pressure's on, you know? Biggest race in the Galaxy, everyone's looking forward to it. Got creds on it myself, even."

"You and half the Galaxy," the thug scowled as he turned to peer out over the walkways that converged beneath the stands. "And they're all waiting on you to get the comms network primed."

"Yeah, so it's important I don't screw up, right?" He dropped the first set of wires and licked his lips. The seasoned sapper moved toward a panel and checked the positions of the switches. Looks like everything is in order, he appraised silently as he tapped a finger to the side of the box twice. "Yep, everything looks good to me, you can send the word up that we're ready to get started."

"Fiiiinally," the man exhaled loudly. "They were about to come looking for both of us. You hold up the bosses too long and they ain't the most forgivin' bunch this side of the Dune Sea."

"So I've heard."

"Alright, come on, I've got to watch you leave. You know the drill." Without armor, Ardasz had to play the part of hapless Engineer, but he had already done the damage he came to instigate. "You just better hope that things go off without a hitch, if you want the credits to make windfall in your account."

"Oh don't you worry about that. I'll get my credits. You just make sure you watch the race. It's gonna be a blast." They rounded the last corner and the thug ushered him out, taking up his post. With a blaster rifle resting at the other man's hip, Ardasz had to wait until he was at a healthier distance to activate his comm device. :: Ibic Ardasz. Ni parjir. :: This is Ardasz. I did it.

The hard part fell to the others to capitalize on. With the comms network bypassed to ignore the stands, they had a slightly larger window to work in before foreign dignitaries decided to get up in arms about their representatives coming under fire. This was an intergalactic incident waiting to happen, after all. :: You guys got about fifteen minutes before someone realizes the network's been compromised. Work fast. ::

 

[Eliz Krayt]

Wait, where was he?

The blond figure stared around blankly. At one point he was out in the snow, again. Much to the hate of his nurses. Now? .. It was dry. Hot. Desert? And he wasn't in a hospital gown, either. When..? The young Mandalorian didn't question it. At least now he knew it was part of the 'healing' process of his shattered mind. Literally shattered mind. From what he was told, most of it had been replaced. Like the rest of him.

Hell, he still didn't even know his own name. Didn't matter how many times people told him, he just.. Forgot. Other peoples names too.

Oh shit wait he's in a ship now. Another blink, another 'glitch' of the cybernetics in his mind. Or what was left of his real brain. Didn't matter one way or another, cause now he was in a podracer. At the starting line. The hybrid took a breath before reaching up for the controls. At least he remembered how to pilot one of these things. .. Wait had he ever before?

 

[Koushou Hibana]

A'Shimra Yort | @anyone else?​

Even in the blessed shade of the stadium above, the heat from the podracing pit hung over the bays like an angry sky god. An oppressive cloud that filled the air with the bitter scent of plastoids on the verge of melting, mingling with the acrid scent of sweat and frustration that went along with the clamorous sea of yells, curses and whoops as the final touches were put into place to varying degrees of success.

It was a charged atmosphere; one that some took to better than others.

“Friend-client, you asked me to reassemble your engine, so that is what I did.” The nezumi rubbed her cheeks agitatedly, eyes rolling into the back of her tiny skull as she tried to explain it once again to the Too Big currently yelling at her from the otherside of the workbench. The ruddy faced, rumpled looking human the picture book definition of the word apoplectic - Or was it apoplexic? - as he worried and fussed over the engine she’d just finished working on. “Now is the part where you say ‘Thank you, Koushou-san’ and pay the rest of the bill. Maybe even tip for finishing ahead of projection.”

“I wanted you to fix my engine! Fix! You just put it back together!”

“Exactly! You said reassemble! Job quoted was for putting back together, not putting back together and working. Whole different job, whole different price tag.”

The rage pent up in his knotted jaw slackened and, for one spectacularly brief moment, she almost thought she’d finally gotten through to the man. That finally he was beginning to understa—

“That… What? That wasn’t what I mea- What?!”

Or not.

“Ugh! You asked for reassembly. I reassemble.” Hibana replied in a tone normally reserved for children or those suffering from recent head trauma. Too Big, too loud, too stingy with credits. And apparently now too stupid to understand basic business. “You didn’t ask me to fix. You didn’t pay me to fix. Ergo, I no fix. How is this so complicated for you?”

“You rat-tailed thief! You know that isn’t what I meant!”

There was a sharp intake of breath. A soft, almost inaudible gasp that was easily drowned out by the chaos of the podracers and their crew. There was no escaping the aghast look that sprung across the tiny nezumi’s features, however. Rat-tailed thief. Rat-tailed. Thief. It was hard to know which part of that she should’ve taken the most offense to.

Who spoke like that?

“You… You…” Her paws began to shake, her voice quivering as she rose up to her full and impressive height of just shy of three inches. She had tried to avoid letting it get personal, tried to rein in her temper like her mother had taught her, but sometimes there was simply not helping it. “Well, you’re bald!”

He wasn’t.

“And ugly!”

That might’ve worked. It was hard to really assess the attractiveness of humans, or any of the Too Bigs for that matter, but she was certain that the lopsided nature of his eyes and awkward angle of his altogether freakishly small nose were fairly good indicators that he wasn’t beating away prospective mates with a stick.

“And… And…"

Now if she could just stick the landing…

"You smell like felucian elderberries! So there! Ha!”

Perfect. Nailed it. That confused look on his face was clearly a sign of the deep seated psychological trauma he’d just been subjected to. Her victory assured, though a touch pyrric in the light of no forthcoming credits for her hardwork, she leapt from the workbench before he could make his recovery. Clawed feet scattering lightly across the sandy duracrete as she dove headlong into the crowds, making her escape through feet, tentacles and wheels.

Surely another racer would be more willing to part with their credits.

 

[A'Shimra Yort]

Koushou Hibana

The figure drew attention even while it didn't want it to.

A Tusker Raider this far out of the Dunes? Not here to slaughter or steal? Impossible to believe. Yet, here A'Shimra Yort found himself, within the mass of humans and other foreign scum soiling the planes of Tatooine. At this point he ought to be used to it. Yet, even now it smarted, to know that there was nothing he could do about them.

No great power within or without that could wipe them clean.

The realization was starting to hit that no matter the raids they did. The foreign invaders they slaughtered out in the Dunes. The destruction they wrought over their colonies.

They would always be back.

So in thought into his own brooding thoughts, he missed the running form of a mous. Easy to miss, of course. They were Of The Small and the crowds were Too Big as always. Even still, he took one more step through said crowd and then paused when something hit his boot. Brows furrowed behind the mask and cowl.

He looked down and noticed.

Critter.

For a moment Yort considered stamping his heel into it. Then he saw the small details. Little goggles, hat, sentient then? << I have never seen one of you before. >> The nomad signed to her with his fingers before adding vocally in his own language. << You are a visitor then? >> The tone violent and aggressive... even though the contents were anything but.

Such was the way of miscommunication for one of the Sand however.

 

[Koushou Hibana]

A'Shimra Yort​

It was an errant step from a Too Big that caught her off guard, slipping out of the crowd almost like a ship in the night, the edge of a boot bringing an abrupt end to an otherwise flawless escape. The sheer difference in weight enough to cause her to tumble, ass over tea kettle, into an undignified heap. No worse for wear, fortunately. An impact like that would leave quite the bruise, but it wouldn't slow her down.

Sadly the same couldn't be said about her pride.

"Oh bothering bother!" The tiny creature huffed, attempting to dust away the sand and detritus that now clung to her fur with a few rapid flicks of her paws. Her gaze focused on the task at hand that she didn't even look up at first, "Well, that is a fine how do you do! Why are you Bigs always looking up? It's not like you're going to get any bigger. You should watch where you're go--- H-ho-holy t-turd blossoms!"

For the second time in as many minutes, the breath left her lungs in a speed record that would make even a podracer green with envy. Above her loomed the very real, very large approximation of what she understood to be a Tusken Raider. One of the few natives of the planet; and not one of the cheery, delightful and more reasonably sized fellows she'd traded with for parts only earlier in the day.

And then It spoke.

Or more accurately, then it bellow-shrieked something down at her. A death threat? An invitation to dinner? An hastily composed yet oddly apt haiku on the unfairness of unpaid labour 'twixt the rise of two suns? Whatever it was, it was a mystery to her. And a terrifying one at that. Dignity be damned, she would've liked to have screamed in return, but pure, unadulterated terror had kindly constricted her throat. Her sense of fight or flight temporarily overriden by a third unforeseen option; freeze. Periaqueductal gray taking her otherwise perfectly fine, adequately functioning body and transforming it into a rigid statue that juddered, locked up and promptly tipped backwards into yet another heap.

Through a stroke of (mis)fortune(?), the impact gave her momentary, if limited return of her vocal functions.

"...oooooooh shiiiiiiiiiii..."​

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Quick And Easy​

Location: Tatooine
Local Time: 12:25
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Eliminate Miran Kril and his Generals
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 2 (Minus the Backpack and Primary. Integrated SD Belt. Wearing a large desert brown hooded poncho over armor) + Goran's Stand
Tags: Ardasz Verd | Open for more homies!
Engaging: Xyoz Maji (Soon)

Cleared To Engage​

A tall, hunchback elderly looking man covered in old rags and a weathered, baggy desert brown hooded poncho walked slowly towards the compound’s secluded rear entrance at a heavy, struggling pace in the empty courtyard with a long walking stick in his left hand; accompanied by his pet, a trained, quadrupedal predator; his fur changing color and pattern to accommodate the arid environment of the desert planet better.

The lively sounds of the large crowd gathering at the tribune could easily be heard not so far in the distance as the old man kept walking, despite feeling the confused gazes of the two sentries standing guard by the entrance in front of him. “Hey! Old man!” One of them shouted at the tall, hunchback silhouette as he started moving towards the old man, with the other sentry close behind him; both held their blaster rifles casually as they drew near. “The kark are you doing here? Leave!”

It was a mystery as to how an elderly man with his pet managed to slip past their security detail and made it all the way here.

<”Karkin’ stupid amateurs.”> The giant muttered to himself in a hushed tone as he continued putting on the show. He dreaded missions that required him to put up a disguise to close in on their objective as inconspicuous as possible. Even though he had all the tools and knowledge necessary to carry out missions such as this thanks to his training and years of experience, he still felt more relaxed, and more at home in operations that would see him in the frontlines. He longed for the thrill of battle as he continued towards the rear entrance, unphased by the approaching nuisance between him and his objective building.

“Are you deaf, stupid, or lost?” One of them mocked the disguised giant. A hearty cackle accompanied the other’s comment. “Maybe he’s all of the above, hmm?” Said the other as the two sentries were within four feet of the giant. Shooting his friend a brief smile, he snapped at the giant once again; his hearty smile replaced with a frown swiftly. “Hey! I’m talking to you, you senile old bastard!” the sentry shouted as he approached the disguised Mandalorian, raising his blaster rifle to land a blow on his right kidney with the rifle’s butt-stock to bring him to his knees.

The sentry would finally have some form of response from the old man, but not in the way he would have expected. Much to the sentry’s surprise, the giant grabbed the barrel of the sentry’s blaster rifle firmly, halting the blow aimed for his right kidney. The giant lifted his head from the partially sand covered courtyard and gazed at the sentry as he spoke. The obsidian black visor stared at the man’s soul. <”Not lost. I’m exactly where I need to be.”>

With a speed belying his stature, the giant rammed the rifle into the sentry’s face. Taken back by surprise, the sentry instinctively let go of his blaster rifle with a pained grunt as he stumbled backwards. Further capitalizing on the confusion, the giant grasped the long walking stick with both hands and struck the sentry’s friend in the face, sending him tumbling on the ground on his back. The giant’s companion swiftly pounced the scoundrel on the ground as the giant shifted his attention to the other sentry.

Landing a stiff kick at the man’s right shin, the sentry collapsed to his left knee; his mouth opened agape to let out a pained cry, but a devastating punch at his throat stuffed in his yelp. With a gut-wrenching, muffled choking, the sentry fell onto his back, convulsing on the ground as he gasped for air, clutching his throat with both of his hands.

A sickening snap of bone resounded into the Alor’ad’s ears not a moment after. The giant shifted his gaze at the ursod breaking the other’s neck. The scoundrel’s body went limp as his soul left his body. <”Good boy.”> he praised his companion as he slung the sentries’ rifles on his back and grabbed the bodies before him, carrying one on his shoulder and dragging the other with ease.

Having access to the schematics of the compound, he entered the large structure from the rear entrance and made his way towards a storage unit nearby, with the ursod in tow. The automated doors opening before him, stacks of small to large crates stretched before him in the large room, with no soul in sight. Approaching a large crate on the other side of the room, the giant opened its lid, and hid the bodies inside, but not before getting a hold of one of their comlinks. He would need it later on.

<”I’m done sneaking around.”> He muttered to himself with a frown as he ripped the poncho and the old rags off him and cast it over the bodies inside the crate, throwing the long walking stick into the crate with it. Chucking their blaster rifles in there as well, the giant closed the crate’s lid, and raised his Verpine, walking at a combat pace out the storage unit with his battle rifle held at a low-ready.

:: Ibic Ardasz. Ni parjir. ::

:: You guys got about fifteen minutes before someone realizes the network’s been compromised. Work fast. ::​

<”Copy that, Ardasz. Thanks for the heads-up. Proceeding with the mission. Kandosii Actual out.”> He responded over the comlink in return. The giant’s obsidian black visor turned on, glimmering with a vibrant, clean white as he checked the local time to see how much time had left for the race to start.

Two minutes.

The giant gave a curt nod of his head to the hallway as he looked at Aubin. <”Come on, we got work to do.”> The ursod let out a muffled, acknowledging growl as the giant raised the verpine battle rifle, starting to make his way to the upper levels of the compound. He had several floors to ascend before reaching the top floor, where his primary objective was located at.

​

​

​

 

[Nyx N1X3]

Arrogant. Like the Jedi.

The synthesized voice was without gender and devoid of warmth as it forced its way into the communication channel. A static avatar of a glowing, red-eye was the only visual representation of the source if video was projected within a HUD or on a display of some kind.

Once you cut a few heads off a hydra, do you believe you will have secured an entire planet? How long will you linger on this world to ensure it remains protected? How many resources dumped into this underdeveloped world? The Confederacy once claimed it as their home before they moved to Geonosis and on to Naboo; in time even they put it from their thoughts. How quickly will the Enclave with its limited supply routes?

N1X3, an assassin droid that came to refer to itself as 'Nyx' to dispense with the Human tendency to look down on droids, perched nearby as it observed the Mandalorian operation. It had personally developed a Cyberwarfare Defense Platform that would shield her presence from the Enclave's slicers that had managed a hard earned fifteen minute cloak for their agents' movements. Better that they couldn't find her at that. Nyx was far from inexperienced at slicing or counter-slicing from her time in the Confederacy's Ministry of Secrets and the various organization names that followed its dissolution. In fact, Nyx had acquired the Ghosted operatives and materials from said Ministry and kept them to herself. Such resources had then been reorganized as Revelation, which now monitored the Enclave's steady encroachment of former Confederate space.

Tatooine was a dust bowl, of which Nyx did not fault the Confederacy from losing sight of in their considerable growth. They maintained it, but it was no polished gem bringing salvation to the galaxy. It had not fallen so far as might be expected given its long history. That the Enclave had come was not so bad a thing, which was the only thing that stayed her hand.

No, in fact, Nyx was here for that very reason. She did not need to act. Not now. Not here. Not yet. But Revelation knew. This was just the beginning, and it was that requiring an evaluation of the Mandalorian intention for the people that might find themselves beset by the beskar-loving warriors.

Ko dan ktan ji si'ines vil ktan sah,
dan go labori ceh ji kanya bo a pao lisir.
Ko dan ktan sah kay go ji si'ines,
toe yeu darna mivran dan cahsinark arnian kucae a darnan.
Ko dan ktan gas ji si'ines gas sah,
dan cahsinark kumci'an ootay yeu lisir.
​

«Spoken in Ryl: If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.»​

Were they the enemy? Only time would tell.

Destination :// Kranak Vizsla / Broadcast Channel Open

 

[A'Shimra Yort]

Koushou Hibana

The critter chittered up towards him.

He recognized some of the words.

Bother. Fine. Do. Bigs. You Watch. Turd.

Maybe if Hibana had slowed down her roll, he would have been able to properly understand her, but as it stood it was a mishmash of words that barely had any meaning to him. Part of him wanted to just move on. But... move on where? He had approached this place, because of the masses of sentients meant chances were low anyone would take too much issue with him.

One cowled figure among many.

Sure the ones that looked closer recognized Tusken. But no rocks were thrown yet, so that was something.

<< You have nothing to fear. >> He again attempted his signing language, because clearly the language of Sand was frightening to the small shivering creature. A moment later Yort realized there was another solution. Language came in many shapes and forms, yes?

What was the best way to put someone at ease? Break bread with them.

Yort did not have bread, but he did have something else. His hand disappeared into a little pouched attached to his belt. It wasn't immediately clear what was in it. Until? He dropped it in front of Hibana. Once she got over herself and the fear it was a thermal detonator? The distinct shape of a little peanut laid before her.

"Food?" Yort tried to bark in Basic. But it came out more like Vjuuuuuud?

 

[Kale Onara]

Kale Onara found a place with height advantage in one of the observation areas opened up for Boonta Eve. He found an empty table, sat down and put his feet up as he set his modified A280C blaster rifle against the wall nearby. Good thing this was Tatooine and he was a Mandalorian, otherwise, toting that blaster rifle around might be suspicious. Today promised to be very interesting indeed. He watched below as everyone was finishing the final preparations for the Boonta Eve podrace. He summoned a droid, placed a few bets on the podrace just for giggles and ordered a drink. Monitoring the frequencies, he heard how things were proceeding. This was going to be an interesting day but right now, he could relax, enjoy his drink, and wait for things to unfold.

 

[Stone Gra'tua]

​

Objective : Rob the Crime Lord

With the preparations all over Mos Espa for the Boonta Eve classic, the Pyke Miral Kril would be distracted by the festivities, and away from his stronghold. While the Mandalorians of the Enclave struck at the crime boss himself, Clan Gra'tua would be helping themselves to his ill-gotten wealth. The raid was planned to go off quick and hard, eschewing stealth for shock and awe, maximum surprise. Initially, things went to plan as a stolen speeder packed with Gra'tua supercommandos whizzed across the city, heading right for the palace's front doors.

The guards lazing around weren't even alerted as the whizzing pops of Verpine shatter weapons sounded, aimed fire taking them all down without a return shot being fired, or even a shout of alarm. The Mandalorians were through the entrance and moving further inside before any hue and cry could go up, or an alarm be pressed. Stone led his gold-clad squad in down the main accessway, while other squads moved out to begin cleaning out any opposition. Once resistance was crushed, the base would be looted.

Kale Onara | A'Shimra Yort | Nyx N1X3 | Kranak Vizsla | Koushou Hibana | Eliz Krayt | Ardasz Verd | Xyoz Maji | Shai Maji

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

Objective 2: Hunt Scum and Villainy
Location: Tatooine, Mos Eisley
Equipment: Sword, M.I. Beskar'gam Mk.1 M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol, M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle x2, Thermal Detonators, Magnetic Detonators, Perun's Call
Tag: Open

There was even more sand blowing in from the desert than usual, he's got a clear objective, clear out villainy, by any means necessary. He's got the weaponry to do so. But no Vode to link up with, he can handle it, he is wearing a hooded cloak, to keep himself as incognito as possible. The tourist Traps have been baited with cheap chit, the kind that breaks as soon as you touch it. But they flock to them like beetles to Bantha waste. Vulcan was given a pod racer model but all the gold bits broke without reason.

The Sheb Face did a runner as soon as Vulcan returned to complain about the rapidly disintegrating model, he was left with a model with most of its parts, dusting the sandy floor and a very irritated Ubese. Lesson learned, restrain impulses where necessary. Ignoring the attempts to strong-arm him into buying something, the Mando continued, not pleased that sand was beginning to get into places it shouldn't. His robotic knee whirred unhappily at the sand. He'll deal with that after he figures out how to tackle the villainy problem that still blights this planet.

He thought about it, he had learned to think before flying into a fight with his fists flying. A sign of maturity or of a more calculated way to do what he has always done, and done well? But that was derailing his mission. Vulcan frowned as he gave the throngs of people a quick scan with his HUD. So far, nothing, no one of particular note. So he marched on, using his quickstep to avoid being elbowed or pushed into the floor, that is until he was able to duck into one of the temporary Cantinias that appear at a race venue.

Looks calm enough but knowing places like this, it will get louder and more high strung. Tempers will flare, fights happen and someone bleeds out on the floor. His break didn't last as he was quickly ushered out the door by one of the busboys. They were concerned as he was still 15 and not exactly supposed to be there, he's drunk before, he's been in a Tavern alongside his Vode.

But now was not the time to be stubborn, he had to look for any hostiles or targets before the race starts because it will be a mad dash to seating. He wondered if Gwyn will show up.

 

[Vren Rook]

TAG: Tawnita Wren | Kale Onara | Vulcan Krayt | Open
GEAR: In Bio

GRIT, SWEAT AND LOVE​

Tatooine.

It's been quite a few years since Vren was on the spit of dust in the Galaxy. But little had changed. The desert heat was quite refreshing after so long on Kestri. It was almost like a vacation.

Even if it was to hunt down crime cartels.

"It's gonna be mad out there. We might have to get up close and personal to root out the scum." Vren told Tee as he checked the ammo on his one pistol before he dropped it back in its holster. Tawnita had just touched down with the Mother Abbess in Mos Espa Spaceport and they were just about ready to disembark.

The hot, dusty air was so very welcome. So many years spent on this planet...it wasn't like a vacation. No, it was like coming home. Provided, the home had to be exterminated first.
"Let's see who is also riding in this rodeo." Vren told Tee as they left the spaceport. They would most definitely need back-up to clean the house properly.

<Any Karjrs or Vode on the hunt, this is Vren Rook. Rendezvous at the main Cantina down the road directly North-West of the Arena.> the Karjr broadcasted on the Enclave frequency before turning back to Tee.

"Ready to grab a drink and kick some ass?" he asked her.

 

[Shai Maji]

GEAR: IN BIO
TAGS: Kranak Vizsla | Xyoz Maji | Ardasz Verd | Faison Kelborn | Open

MISFIT TOYS​

Another day, another chance to take her mind off things. And on Tatooine of all places as well. The planet had a massive soft spot in her heart. One could always rely on the old dust ball to get a gig, lay low from the pigs, flip some creds and sell some guns, go off to...

Oh yeah...

She was technically a pig as well now.

Shai zoomed through the air towards the back entrance. Kranak was supposed to let her know when he was making an entrance for the strike team... guess he had his reasons for letting that detail slip. Her comms chimed up with an unfamiliar voice, another Mando that joined them on this operation, tasked with infiltrating and making their lives a little easier to get to the target and take him out. :: This is Wardog, coming up on the back entrance. :: She radioed over the team's comms before she touched down by the entrance.

Walking in with a sigh, she picked up a pebble and tossed it at Kranak's head. :: Hey, maybe next time remember to tell the rest of us when you're breaching. :: She commented over the comms, electing to keep her annunciator off in order to keep a low profile. She looked around for a moment as she caught up with Kranak and Aubin. :: Faison's joinin' us on this one as well. Told him we're movin' out. We were laying low at a different part of town. Not gonna lie, I'm half tempted to leave this guy alone and kick back to watch the- :: She cut herself off abruptly as she froze in place.

:: The kriff... :: She muttered. It was a faint sound, probably too muffled for a normal person to hear. But Shai was quite sure that she heard what sounded like a Rancor of all things. :: Did you guys hear that? :: She asked as she looked around. :: I could swear I just heard a Rancor roar for a moment. :: She muttered as she tapped the side of her helmet. :: Either my hearing's starting to go or my helmet's actin' up. They don't got animal pens in the pavilions, right? :: She asked.

Regardless, she pressed on. Though she kept her senses sharp. It was such a ludicrous thing to say aloud in this place. Everybody knew about the animal pen in the old palace... but not here. Then again, it wouldn't surprise her if some crime lord had one installed to take care of business while the races were on.

Little did she know about the surprise waiting for the team a few levels up...

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Equipment:

Spoiler

• Beskar'gam.
• Borealis Pistol.
• Ra'ntisr Pistol.
• The Distant Chill Rifle.
• Two M.I. Model 6 Pistols.
• Igradi Light Repeating Blaster.
• Lightsaber.
• Shoto.
• 12 Detonators.
• 12 Remote Detonators.
• 12 Magnetic Thermal Detonators.
• Combat Knife.

Tags: Vulcan Krayt Vren Rook Kale Onara Tawnita Wren @open

I - A M - N O T - W H O - I - S H O U L D - B E​

The cantina?

Gwyneira Krayt sighed, pulling the hood tighter over her buy'ce as she pushed herself off the wall, slinging her rifle over her back. The fully armored and armed Mandalorian was hooded and cloaked. Sand dusted her robes and black armor as she walked through the streets. She was itching for action. Itching to prove her strength by crushing anyone and anything that stood between her vode and their goals. Tatooine was sick with crime, and the cure was eradication.

No mercy, no exceptions. This was who she was now. She was strong.

The girl was thankful that her beskar'gam provided temperature regulation, allowing her to remain cool in the desert planet's intense heat. She sighed, heading towards the direction of the cantina. Her straps of explosives changed against her frame, her numerous blasters ready for action upon being pulled. Her hidden lightsabers were easily accessible, and she was in desperation to fight. To experience the feeling of holding power in her hands as she executed the guilty. She had been training nonstop, since she had been rescued from her father's facility, for this. She was ready.

She entered the cantina, her robes flapping in the wind. As the door closed behind her, she struggled to adjust to the darkness. She felt it come across her, another headache as she briefly saw in infrared. She winced, grimacing as she brought one hand up to her head. From the doorway, she stalked over to the nearest available seat and waited out the solid minute of throbbing pain in her head.

When the headache finally was over, she looked up from her table and looked around for her fellow vode.

 

[Xyoz Maji]

Kranak Vizsla | Shai Maji | Ardasz Verd | Faison Kelborn

"When the hell did you get a Rancor!?"

There was no Rancor here the last time Xyoz stopped by. That he knew of. Or paid attention to. Shit was this what the damn contractor work was being done for? A beast pit? Xyoz sprinted around the room, trying to find places to hide as the lumbering beast tried to get hold of him. It'd be easy to just kill the thing, but, he didn't want to show off that power. He'd gotten here all on wits alone!

Well, no. Not really wits. He survived a lot of things he shouldn't have because of what he was. Most people just assumed that was him being smart. But no one actually saw what happened. He killed any witnesses, usually. Or glamoured their memories away. Handy skill, that. Little mental persuasion didn't hurt anybody! And, more importantly, it kept what he was under wraps.

Did the damn Pyke know something was up? Or was he really that mad over a handful of credits?

Xyoz's lack of understanding for money aside, he put on quite the show. Desperately trying to get away from the Rancor as it's massive hands tried to take hold. Eventually, though, the Shistavanen would run out of places to dodge away from. Both clammy hands wrapped around him. He struggled, for a bit. Put on a show of desperation and such as he was lifted to the awaiting maw.

"Fuck fuck fuck I hate thi-" He was cut off as the upper portion of his body was bitten away. The rest was tossed aside, presumably to be saved for later. A much fuller, happier Rancor slowly stalked back towards it's pen, and soon enough the group above would turn away, laughing and joking about the briefly bright life of an idiot caught stealing red handed.

 

[Faison Kelborn]

TAG: Shai Maji Kranak Vizsla Ardasz Verd Xyoz Maji

<"I'm in position."> Faison confirmed over the comm frequency as the rest of the squad moved into position. The plan was rather simple, Kranak and Shai were about to breach the section of the stands Miran Krill and his cronies were going to observe the race at. Meanwhile, Faison had setup within a sniper position near the back of the complex - a back exit, if you will - set aside for such VIPs to engage in an emergency evacuation in the event of an operation like the Mandalorians were currently engaged in. His role was rather straightforward - he was the insurance in the event their mark was craftier than they had given him credit for. A contingency for if this op went to hell in a handbasket, which based on previous ops Faison had embarked upon with both Kranak and Shai; the risk of said complications occurring were exponentially higher. His sanctum sniper rifle was perched on a tripod within a dark room set within a small storage building opposite the back alley of the stands. The window was open, and the curtains were drawn enough to allow for him to see the back entrance, whilst still obscuring direct vision into the room for potential thugs attempting to view within the room he was in.

To the casual observer, his room was but one of many lining the back street. To the dozens of thugs milling about the crowd to secure the area however, he was a coiled snake ready to strike. Of course, his role wasn't just to sit by his lonesome in the shadows near the back of the complex. His HUD was linked with a tactical drone milling throughout the area, disguised as a media droid recording the festivities of the historic event about to unfold. The drone's live feed raced through a small window on his display, providing statistical analysis of the area - wind velocity, foot traffic at the nearest major evacuation routes, pin-point locations of security patrols he had tagged half an hour ago. While Faison was ready to be the backup lance through the back of their target should the situation require it, he was primed to offer any real backup the team needed - even if it meant a forcible reentry to secure their exfil. His finger rose to his scope as he made a few pinpoint adjustments, his weapon finely tuned to the back entrance in the event he had to take a last minute, highly accurate shot. Then, he arose from the perch and strolled over to the door of the room he occupied, checking the latch to ensure it was secure. After verifying the final preparations, his voice could be heard over the comm frequency yet again:

<"Try not to cave in any cantinas while you're making your entrance, yeah?">

 

[Thonn Rokkal]

Gwyneira Vizsla Kale Onara Vren Rook Tawnita Wren Vulcan Krayt and any others

---

There'd be trouble, and Thonn was out searching for it. Fully geared up and with his rotary cannon loaded up, he was slowly making his way through the city. Once again, he hadn't a clue where to find the action, but once it started he'd be there to get a piece of it.

<Any Karjrs or Vode on the hunt, this is Vren Rook. Rendezvous at the main Cantina down the road directly North-West of the Arena.>

Well, it wasn't trouble but it was the next best thing; his vode, who were already around and looking for it. All the better to do so together – and even better still, grab a drink while they were at it.

"Thonn reporting; if I don't get there first, save a seat for me, would ya?" He replied with a spirited tone, setting the coordinates into the navigation component of his HUD. With the destination set, he made headway over to the cantina, following the suggested route though lesser used roads and alleys.

Soon, he'd found himself at his destination and pushed in the doors to see who had arrived. Gwyneira caught his attention.

"Gwyn-!" Thonn began his remark mirthfully, before shutting himself right up. She...didn't look like she was doing all to well; she looked an awful lot like he did the morning (usually afternoon...) after a long night with a little too much tihaar. Which, situationally, was probably not what she was going through, but she didn't look like she'd appreciate any loud noises or interactions anymore than if it was.

May as well grab a drink, then. Which he did, happily in short order. With the drink in hand he returned, silently this time, to Gwyneira and set the beverage on the table. Taking a seat beside her, he doffed his beskar helmet, a soft hiss of air heard as he pulled it off his head. Hopefully she was feeling better by now, but he'd leave talking aside until she opened up.

He began to set the helmet down beside his mug on the table, but paused. A moment's consideration late, he opted instead to leave it on the seat beside him before he took a swig of his drink.

Well, whenever Vren got here, he'd find a seat saved for him.

 

[Siv Dragr]

H U N T E R

Objective: (Try to) Clean Up Mos Espa
Tag: Vren Rook | Thonn Rokkal | Gwyneira Vizsla | Kale Onara | Tawnita Wren | Vulcan Krayt | Mandos

BLAM!

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Blasterfire kicked up spirts of sand as Siv dodged and rolled behind a shabby Jawa vendor's stand, sending the diminutive brown-robed creatures running and cursing in their high-pitched tongue. Red bolts whistled overhead as Siv partially sat up, gritting his teeth and drawing his own blaster as he felt grains of sand spray all over him.

Obviously the Red Key Raiders were not happy to see him again.

"About that rendezvous," Siv half-said, half-shouted into his comms to be heard over the blasterfire and yelling, "I may not make it in time. Ran into a few friends from my bounty hunting days." He paused to consider his words, before he had to flinch away from a blaster bolt that took off a chunk of wood from the top edge of the stand. "Well, my old bounty hunting days. Gotta go," he quickly signed off. Flexing his trigger finger, he jumped to his feet and fired back, hitting two of the lightly armored Red Key enforcers squarely, sending them down with holes burnt through their padding. Two more blaster bolts hit Siv in return, but they dissipated or reflected off of his beskar plating.

He grunted as a third one hit a raised forearm, before he ran and slid into an alleyway. Jumping, he propelled himself off of an exposed moisture vaporator pipe to scramble up the side of the hard sandstone wall to the rooftop, where he prompty fell flat on his chest to avoid the blaster bolts tracking him. They kept firing for a moment before going silent, without him in their sights to provide an easy target. They began to shout in huttese, most likely figuring out a plan to go after him, while Siv took the brief respite to form a plan of his own. "Yeah that's right, come and get me," he muttered as he flexed his offhand, and a whirr emitted from his gauntlet indicating that his Whistling Bird rocket launcher had come online.

Once they would try to come after him, they'd be in for a nasty surprise.
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