The Mandatory Montage

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Zenva stretched, twisting and turning in her new Armor. This was as much a needed practice run in her new system, training courses only offered so much of a challenge. She turned to survey the gathering of people swarming through a rare dry clearing on the otherwise marsh infested surface of Nal Hutta.

Her Elites patrolled the area at large. Many oversaw the nearly two hundred other personnel, many of which seemed to be child sized, working to clear more of the overgrown vegetation to the south. A proper instillation was well on it's way to being built. Over the course of the day the Matron's people would eventually assemble a vehicle depot, and an armory, but those were hours away from completion.

The Matron's sharp gaze swept up to the sky as the final Dropship began it's decent toward the growing camp below. This one would have her guest's, some she would be meeting for the first time. Others, well, others she knew much better. She smiled fiercely beneath her helmet, and absently keyed a control on her gauntlet.

A moment later a dangerous little Recon Bike glided up beside the Zabrak. She quickly mounted the vehicle, slammed the accelerator, and sped toward the landing area. She arrived in time to watch the ship land, it's bay doors slamming to the soft earth beneath them. Stepping off her Bike, Zenva pulled off her helmet, tucking it beneath her arm as she started forward to see who had chosen to join her this fine, humid and hot, Nal Hutta morning.

 

[Thraxis]

Tag's:

Spoiler

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

Loadout:

Spoiler

Chassis Slot: Thraxis Armour Helmet Slot: Enigma Gas Mask
Cloak Slot: Phantasm Cloak Greave Slot: Thraxis Armour
Pauldron Slot: Thraxis Armour Foot Slot: Thraxis Armour
Melee: Cruciatus Blade Overcoat: Jkiti Greatcoat
Rifle Slot: DEMP Sidearm Slot: Pistolas
Misc: Null Generator Hand-to-Hand Weapon: Vambrace
Tuck-A-Bag

It twisted.​

That ever-present familiar black form laced in the smell of putrid alcohol had returned to the Galaxy once more, his work season returning. Light's flickered and danced in the cranium of it's Visor, digits popped that meant little, colour faded in and out in that familiar hue of green and of course, those deep marks birthed of war and mistakes poxed even the ever invincible Phirik armour. Thraxis had returned once more, and slowly, he descended the steps with a grating draw, Phirik slid against Durasteel in long-winded eeks, as his visor registered ever fraction and drop of visual stimuli available to him.

He dragged along with slumped shoulders, a long cord slipped underneath his armour, pressing against sick-smelling padding as heavy slurps resounded outwards, rolling around his arm in a clear plastic strand that dipped into a large bucket that smelt of some gross concoction that one could only hope was alcohol. Strapped to his right arm though, something pulsed, a sickening sense rolled and radiated off his yellow and patched up bag, fusing and mixing with the stench of alcohol that seemed to roll off him with unnatural ease.

His mask glanced and gazed around as he looked at Zenva, it had been some time, and being in the hands of a Good Employer would change everything, from being caught in the Vampiric hands of Ameila to the what he assumed was the long-dead Gaze of Ella Nova, he was simply happy to see a face he could trust, something he said about few in the galaxy, and said fewer with any real intent. But he hadn't time to stay and chat, he knew how this game played, he dragged his bucket behind him, gave a passing nod towards the Zabrak, "Zenva." He blurted out, trying to nod and remain civil whilst still sucking at the Bucket, and as he passed by Zenva,they might notice the thing had been left rather empty and now the straw simply flailed about picking and pecking at whatever tiny beads of Alcohol avoided its a magnificent draw.

 

[Visanj T'shkali]

"Hello Matron. It would appear things are moving ahead on schedule. I am pleased to receive your invitation. Quite looking forward to see what a little collection of nightmares you have conjured here."

Vi leaned against the construction fencing, in her usual posture, and this time dressed in an expensive pressed suit and shirt, opened at the collar. Her pistol hanging beneath her shoulder, ever at the ready. However today she was meeting with others in the Matron's employ and service, and surveying firsthand for herself the progress of the new enclave. The Matron was her business partner, and the pair had an arrangement which allowed Vi to act as a 'consultant' and 'contractor' when the need arose, and she was eager to see the line-up of those who would become the nucleus of the Zabrak's reorganized regiment.

Her first impression of Thraxis was one of hesitation, as the strong scent of bad booze and implication of worse manners overwhelmed her. However, his rather cavalier demeanor and genuine quality softened her opinion quickly. Vi was a good judge of character - usually - and this one was quite the character. Still, she sensed she could rely on him when called upon, and that beneath his gin-soaked and disheveled disposition, there might be some redeeming, if not even endearing, qualities there.

"I'd ask how you are doing this morning, but I feel as if for you, it's still last night." Vi grinned, watching him shuffle past. Potential, for sure.

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

The Zabrak flashed a sharp grin as the dread pirate [member="Thraxis"], who for as long as she had known the half-insane man had never been entirely sober, swaggered into her camp. "Hello, Thraxis. Enjoying life to it's fullest I see." The Matron inclined her head to the pirate, or so she enjoyed calling the old Jackel Underboss.

Her bizarre yellow-red gaze followed the man for a few moments before her attention was captured by the approaching Epicanthix. "Good Morning, Miss T'shkali. I'm very pleased you could join me this morning." Zenva's free hand came up, drawing the Baroness's attention to the South. "If all goes smoothly, by this evening my Kinsman will have storage and repair facilities for a battalion of these speeder bikes, and likely a squadron of Walkers to follow in the morning. I thought the terrain might not be well suited for tanks, so I think we'll leave those at home." Zenva smiled once more, though her gaze shifted once or twice to the landing craft beyond.

[member="Thraxis"] [member="Visanj T'shkali"]

 

[James Justice]

James could feel the twilight of consciousness beginning to shine through the haze of his drunken sleep. The man's eyes creaked open, the lights of the city around him sent stabs of pain through James' mind and body like razor edged blades tearing through his mind. The man had rarely ever experienced a hangover, but in the man was beginning to experience it more often in the past ten years of his life than he had in the previous thirty. James' hand blindly reached out grabbing a hold of anything that he could. He pulled himself up out of a pile of trash. He staggered, feeling himself press against the cold duracrete of the filthy alleyway wall.

"Damn it," James grunted, his voice grovely and horse.

Last night was a haze but he could remember finding Zenva and starting the second part of his plan to make the Thetans pay for destroying Dal'Bor and annihilating everything that James had hoped and dreamed for. Even amid his own hedonism, James had hoped that Dal'Bor would be a beacon of hope for former Slaves. And, as all Zeltrons, he had hoped it would be a place for all to find pleasure and love. But that was gone, just like everything else that he had wanted from it. But now it was all gone.

The spacer stumbled into the open street, powering through the intense migraine that slammed against his head. The spacer reached into his pocket and fumbled out a small plastic bag. He grabbed a handful of the pills inside, each a different prescription grade pain killer. He swallowed them dry, and it didn't take long for the concoction to start to take effect in his body. His eyes landed on a Rodien dismounting from a swoop bike by the side of the road.

"Hey," James called out to him with a wave of his hand, "How much for ye bike?"

The Rodien eyed him suspiciously. The man reeked of garbage and poor booze. Even a few bits of rubbish still clung to his coat. His lip turned up in a sneer, "Ten thousand. Piss off."

James flicked a credit chip towards the alien, "Keep the change."

The green skinned bug's face showed surprised as he looked at the credit chip. James mounted the speeder, and soon he was racing away, through the city streets. The ride certainly wasn't worth a tenth of what James had paid for it, but the spacer didn't really hurt for money. A few moments later he made it to the clearing Zenva designated as their training grounds. The man, hungover, high, and sedated all at once managed to stumble off the speeder bike and stand erect. It was a dazzling display of sheer willpower. The Living Force coursing through James' veins was the only thing keeping him alive at this point--and two overtaxed livers.

"Matron," James said inclining his head towards the red woman. His thumbs looped into his gunbelt. "This what we got to work with?"

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"] [member="Visanj T'shkali"] [member="Thraxis"]

 

[Thraxis]

Tag's:

Spoiler

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

Loadout:

Spoiler

Chassis Slot: Thraxis Armour Helmet Slot: Enigma Gas Mask
Cloak Slot: Phantasm Cloak Greave Slot: Thraxis Armour
Pauldron Slot: Thraxis Armour Foot Slot: Thraxis Armour
Melee: Cruciatus Blade Overcoat: Jkiti Greatcoat
Rifle Slot: DEMP Sidearm Slot: Pistolas
Misc: Null Generator Hand-to-Hand Weapon: Vambrace
Tuck-A-Bag

Thraxis raised a finger, pointing to Zenva and mimicking the action of a pistol, snapping with a sharp clack as he clicked his fingers, Phirik grated along Phirik as Thraxis turned on his heel, walking back with a dexterous drag, "The morning will only ever begin when a man sleep's." He retorted as he seemed to instinctively jump up, landing with all the grace of a drunken Elephant, though to his credit, he posed along a line of Barrel's with the skill of a nimble monkey, his body splayed out and head cocked on his arm as he looked between Zenva and Visanj, "So... uh... What's happening?" He stated awkwardly, shifting in his armor as a leeching smell of alcohol slipped between it's joint's.

Than it came. That echoing thud, the sound of dirt, ash or whatever excrement this planet called soil mauled and uprooted by the hum and roar of a speeder in the distance, and that familiar figure slowly rolled over. Thraxis beneath the veil of his helmet raised a brow, "Oh... James' is involved..." Thraxis sighed, wiggling a little more atop a throne of barrels and crates like some homeless king, His vision shifted immediately to Zenva, beneath the mask it screamed that all knowing sound of, What have you dragged me into? But of course he wouldn't say it, instead he looked to James' with all the confidence his position afforded him, "Ah James', the disheartening benefactor. Where ever did you go? Did you know Stardust was in a panic about you? Thought I'd know where the man avoiding his kids woomped off to on his casual Drugged up stroll's." Thraxis jabbed, it wasn't the most pleasant interaction.

But than again. This was not a pleasant encounter.​

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"] | [member="James Justice"] | @Visanj T'shakli​

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

LOCATION: NAL HUTTA
EQUIPMENT: IN BIO
CURRENT MOOD: AMUSED

Justice versus Thraxis. A tale as old as time.

Or, at least, as old as Ghorua's been stalking the galaxy proper. His first hunt, capturing his current friend and benefactor, Lady Kay, had placed himself firmly between the two feuding houses, so to speak. It was a dangerous time. Ghorua had been forced to grow up. Learned what it truly meant to watch his back, and chose his enemies a little more carefully. It had sobered him.

But now, he could barely stop himself from laughing at the absurdity.

The Jawsome, Ghorua's personal star yacht, touched down onto the swamp planet, sinking into the soft earth. He liked Ms. Vrotoa enough, but didn't entirely trust this arrangement enough to share space on a ship with them. He'd been burnt by his fair share of criminal organizations already.

The loading ramp hissed as it extended, letting off the massive Herglic. Kitted in full armor and weapons, helmet under the crook of his arm, he was a sight to behold. One that many in the clearing would recognize. Whether the memories were fond or sour, he had no clue. The tall hunter leaned against the side of his yacht, simply observing with an easy smile. He'd heard something about... 'Woomping'?

If the Matron manages to get James Justice and Thraxis to work together on anything, I'll eat my helmet.

- [member="Thraxis"] - [member="James Justice"] - [member="Zenva Vrotoa"] - [member="Visanj T'shkali"] -

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Zenva's smile was rather lack luster as she greeted James, nodding slightly. "Hello Mister Justice. How good of you to join us this morning. This is just the beginning of what I can arrange." She scowled faintly at the man before her attention turned to Thraxis as he moved to rejoin them.

As the Pirate began to speak to James with obvious tension, and history in his sour words, Zenva chuckled nervously. She turned quickly to Visanj, drawing the woman's attention away from the scene. "Ah, Miss T'shkali, this way please." She gingerly set a hand to the woman's shoulder, turning her towards the landing area. "Ah! Ghorua is here. Excellent. Would you be so kind as to inform him I'll be right over, Miss T'shkali?" She pointed to the massive Herglic waiting beside his yacht.

She backed away from the Epicanthix, hoping she'd move off on her own. She quickly turned back to Thraxis, stepping extremely close to the man. "Pay the feth attention, I won't be repeating myself." She stepped back slightly to point at James. "He wants to pay me a lot of fething credits to kill people and blow chit up. If you can't get behind that, you can leave. If you want in on a lot of fething credits to kill people and blow chit up, then keep your personal problems to yourself. Your on my time, he's the pay check. Understood?" The Zabrak did not look amused by the exchange between the two drunken men. "Same goes for you James. Deal with your personal chit later. If you want your revenge, get sober, and handle your chit like a man." She scowled one last time at the pair of them, and turned away to rejoin her Epicanthix guest in walking to greet the Herglic.

Once at Visanj's side again she gestured with her free hand towards the waiting Bounty Hunter. Her hand came to rest on one of the twin swords hanging off her hips as she strode forward, leaving the drunken duo to their own devices. When she was in easy speaking distance she waved to the Herglic lazily, hooking her thumb in one of her many weapon straps. "Ghorua, I'd like you to meet Miss T'shkali. With luck an investor in our future prosperity."

[member="Ghorua the Shark"] [member="Thraxis"] [member="James Justice"] [member="Visanj T'shkali"]

 

[Myra]

Nal Hutta, not exactly Myra's first choice of where to meet these new colleagues of hers. She sat idly by in her Luxary Frigate as her security team got their gear in order. She would pace the ebony floor of her room, which was as dark as the abyss outside with only the gold molding around the corners of the room leading up into ivory white metal walls and ceiling with similar gold molding. A cigarette would be in her hand, freshly lit, she'd take a drag from it, looking out towards the swampy planet. Time for business.

She'd chuck the cigarette before heading down to the hangar where her six body guards, all in Asturian armor would be waiting for her, they'd all board the shuttle and head down to the surface. The shuttle would set down only a few hundred feet away from the meeting place, and she would slowly descend the ramp with her guard in tow. It was exactly as she imagined it, she wasn't pleased. Yet, she would tough it out as she approaches the group.

She knew none of them, yet, but she would offer her hand to the Zabrak without a smile, her steely disposition hiding any emotions that may be bubbling underneath "I hope I'm not interrupting." She knew very well she was, what ever was going on was of no concern of hers. "Myra Raltel, I believe I was invited to this little gathering?" Her guard would take up position behind her, their blue armor's paint chipped in a few places but other then that the armor would look pristine.

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"] [member="Ghorua the Shark"] @Thraxis @James Justice [member="Visanj T'shkali"]

 

[Tan'yill Vizsla]

It was an interesting vessel, that gold plated luxury frigate which the pilot droid smoothly sat down the YV-929 armored freighter by. She stood behind the captains chair, leaning an arm on the back rest and thought of how much it resembled a Firespray-31 patrol craft. Only a lot bigger, and probably with a lot more credits between the current and the former owner, if the current one had not stole it that was. The possibility of the latter was high, considering it was the Blood Matron that had summoned them here.

Yes, the Blood Matron. An acquaintance that, what she did remember, was right up her alley when they first met, after the recommendation from that smooth-talker; Ray. After that time, after that deal, things had got in the way of possible continuing affairs. It sure was some time ago, but apparently she had made a good enough impression on the red zabrak lady for her to remember her contact information. And now, she was here. On Nal Hutta.

Her green-yellowish gaze observed the other figures some distance from the ships. Five, not counting the Matron. If it was a long time since she met Zenva, it was a chit load of time since she worked together with a group of people. This would be interesting! A close-bitten sigh left her with a slight nod to herself and the thoughts about the past. With that, she turned around and made her way to the ship's ramp, causing her long black leather coat to waver behind her. The coat hid both her KYD-21 blaster pistol as well as a pair of vibro-blades, one in each high-rised boot made out of sturdy black leather. A dark green scarf were wrapped around her neck, above a simple grey top with short sleeves and a pair of dark brown smugglers pants. As usual, she wore her rylothian headpiece with pride. Perfect fitting combat gloves on her hands.

She rolled her eyes once, before putting her hands in the pockets of the coat and took decisive steps down the ramp. Her gaze were drawn to a towering tank of a beast, fully armored it almost looked ridiculous. Though it would be a nightmare for an opponent in battle, she thought as she let her eyes off him and approached the red lady.

''Miss Vrotoa... It's a long time ago since I enjoyed the drinks of Club Vicious...'' she begun with a short pause. ''I'm... curious, to know if our business would offer a continuation this time.'' she stated. She threw a silent and discreet glance on each of the others, but kept the focus on Zenva. Introductions would come, in one way or another. One of them acted like he had been drinking constantly the last 24 hours, it smelled like it too!

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"], [member="Myra"], [member="Ghorua the Shark"], [member="Thraxis"], [member="James Justice"], [member="Visanj T'shkali"]