Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Waking Up


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CAN YOU FEEL IT?
She stood alone, flames surrounding her, heat simmering across the plates of her armor. If not for her suit being tailored for the heat, she would have been cooked by now. She scowled, moving forward, knowing that she couldn't stay here. She might have been fire resistant, but only a full would idle in open flame and tempt fate. She moved forward, trying to find a way out of this flame riddled display, when the fire began to dance as if an unseen wind was kicking it up. She paused, wondering if the force was at work here, but nothing showed itself, the flames rather began to change, taking on the visage of people. Their forms were warped, bodies in flames, though they remained still, jaw bones forced open, as if silently screaming at her. Her gut shifted, feeling a sense of wrongness about this whole ordeal, wondering what the point of this display was. The sound of shattering glass sounded, snapping her attention away from the burning bodies, her body posed to strike, wanting to know who had brought her here, and what they might attempt to bring down upon her.​
A shadow began to move towards her, it's form cloaked in darkness, but it held an unmistakable weapon, the hum of a lightsaber filled the air, mixing with the popping of the flames. A grin formed under her helm, as she tensed up, the concealed blade in her elbow quietly being deployed. The two foes stayed still for a moment, not even breathing, eyeing one another. The saber's blue blade cast no light on the wielder, their body and form still cloaked in darkness, which made the Mandalorain all the more annoyed. Who did they think they were, hiding themselves in such an amateur fashion.​
The Jedi ran at her, and to Tatiana, it was all too predictable. Her knee darts deployed, firing towards the jedi, who blocked them effortlessly; exactly as she planned. She moved forward, line launcher deploying, as she activated her boots, moving towards the knight as he began to cut the cord. Tatiana was already on him however, coming down with her armored gauntlet, smashing into the saber, knocking it out of the way, as she drew her elbow blade upwards, the weapon slicing into the jedi's exposed throat, the shadowy figure stumbling backwards as blood spewed from the neck wound. Their saber hit the ground, clattering into the flames, as the shadows were cast aside. Her eyes laid upon the man, and her blood went cold, as the face she looked upon, was that of her own brother, his unmistakable blue eyes gazing into her, devoid of life and light.​
A shill scream sent her leaping out of bed, her heart pounding like thunder against her chest, and she recognized a half moment later that it was her own terror that had awoken her, her breathing slowly calming as she recognized it was only a nightmare. She lowered herself back into bed, her brow furrowed in frustration. The dreams were becoming more common, they were starting to distract her in the early mornings now.​
She glanced to the overhead display on her bed, the dim light of the screen showing her arrival time would be within the next two hours. Plenty of time to get herself situated for work, or whatever was thrown at her this day.​
She rose from bed, moving to don her armor and chose her weapons for today. Anything to put the recent nightmare out of her mind.​

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Location: Bothawui
Equipment: Aselia's Beskargam
Tag: Bright1 Bright1

The trip to Bothawui wasn't terribly long but her fighter was not built with comfort in mind. She could have asked her father for something of course virtually anything she asked of Darth Metus Darth Metus she would likely have had granted. At the same time though she did not like to depend on him too much, so here she was heading to the remote reaches of the Confederacies borders, though not especially dangerous on their own recent incursions of the Brynadul put them only a short distance a fact that was keenly at the forefront of her mind.

Aselia was currently leaning back in her seat with her feet kicked up on the console and her helmet laying in her lap, she tapped on it absently. These sorts of trips were more interesting with company, if only her sister Allya Vi'Dreya Allya Vi'Dreya had been available it would have at least been a fun trip. The redhead shook her head and picked up her helmet with a sigh. "Well whatever, got a job to focus on anyways." just as she spoke the autopilot started sounding the alert that they were about to come out of hyperspace. She quickly threw her helmet over her red hair and tucked it into her helmet "Feth, I need a haircut its too long" as if to accentuate her statement several red strands fell out and hung down. Growling in frustration she grabbed a knife from her belt and grabbed the hair with the other and cut it quickly letting the hair fall to the ground. "i'll deal with the rest of it later"

Settling into the chair properly she took over the controls from the autopilot and began to accelerate as Bothwaui traffic control came over her comms. "Bothawui control, transmitting clearance codes, requesting priority landing for Confederate business I am sending ident Beta Prioris encryption." it took a minute for them to verify both the clearance codes and ident as legitimate but the response was swift when it was.

"Landing clearance granted, follow the guide beacon to pad-34A its in one of our high security areas, do you require an guide?" a small smile formed on the lips of the redhead under the helmet., sometimes being the daughter of a former Mand'alor and Vicelord had its perks. "Negative control but thank you for the offer." with that she throttled up the fighter and dove into the atmsophere as the closed the channel. She hit the atmosphere and could feel the shuttering of the fighter as the steep angle threatened to bounce her off back into space, but just as it seemed likely she broke though into the lower atmosphere and broke into a small barrel roll before she banked hard toward the landing pad.

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Within a few minutes she was on the ground and stood from the seat, as a proper mandalorian she checked all her gear before she began the descent from the ship. Fully clad in her black beskar, in a bit of a personal flair the crimson srusu'yur hung from her shoulders though most mandalorians didn't care for the cloth accents she felt it was a nice statement, nothing wrong with looking good while fighting.


 
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ROUTINE FLIGHT CHECK
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Tatiana didn't hate her ship per say, but it certainly wasn't to her liking. At times, it was dependable, but she also wondered if it might be the death of her some day. Having donned her armor and geared up, she slide behind the controls of her ship, and found to her horror that landing cycle was displaying an error message. The landing thrusters had frozen up, meaning there wasn't a way to safely slow or bring her ship to a halt on a landing approach. She ran a quick course calculation, her ship passing by several small satellites adrift around the world, as the initial comms buzzed from the traffic controller. She now had a dillema, dare she ask for help and raise attention towards herself, or try and land this thing and not get herself killed in the process. She opted for the later, her heart beat quickening by several paces, as she flipped on the comm. "This is Bothwai control, we are contacting one 'Black Swallow', your transponder is indicating you are having an emergency, is everything okay up there? Over."

Tatiana's face scrunched into a scowl, as she flipped through several screens, her ship starting to break through the atmosphere, as she needed to shut whatever that message was off. "Negative Control, just had a mishap with the computer, everything is fine up here, we're fine-" She found the file, and nearly unloaded the mother of all swear words as several system errors began to flood her control panel. A muffled sigh emanated from her helmet, as she hastily closed the windows out, though the problem still remained. How was she going to land? "Just looking to land, transmitting clearance now, over." She managed to get out, her eyes looking over to her options, her fingers drumming against the controls as she checked her course, and saw she was on target to the space port. "Black Swallow, we are clocking your speed, you are coming in too hot, dial it back. We have cleared you to land on pad 34-b, over." Tatiana bit her lip, her hands moving to throttle back on the engines, pulling up the ship as it changed her angle of approach, hoping that the heat of reentry might defrost the landing thrusters if she could keep it in the sweet zone for a bit, then she realized this also ruined her approach. She flicked the landing thrusters on and off, her speed dropping sharply as her engines slowly snugged out, and with it the Swallow began to fall towards the planet, with ever increasing lose of control.

Swearing loudly, Tatiana gave the engines more juice, realigning their placement, as they dropped down, pushing the ship up and slowing it, though it awkwardly hovered, breaking through the clouds above the space port, though the landing thrusters were still giving no response. "Black Swallow, we're monitoring your landing approach, do you need assistance? We are seeing two misfiring engine turbines an-" She blocked them out, throttling the engines down, as warning indicators began to go off in her cockpit, something about coolant imbalance; she didn't care right now. Finally, a green light winked on from the main computer, the landing thrusters were finally able to deploy, and with that, Tatiana booted up the landing cycle and melted into her chair, as the ship's computer took control. It was a rough landing, the ship shuttering as it impacted, and indeed she still had warning lights flashing across the display, but she had made it in one piece. Sadly, she had certainly drawn more attention than she planned. Stepping out of the ship, she was met with a fire crew rushing to quench the flames on her ship, as both engines had caught alight, which she did not appreciate one bit.

Several explanations and fees latter, and she was finally able to depart the port. Blaster pistol was snuggly slide into her side holster, blaster rifle folded neatly on her back, and her vibro weapons were nice and packed away within her suit. She was now ready to face the day. The sleek steel colored warrior departed the hanger, mind set on perhaps looking over a weapon assortment, and perhaps gadgets for her next job. There were oh so many things to do, and she hadn't a clue of where to even begin starting next.

Honestly, at times like this she wished she was back on Drommund Kaas, least then she was actually working.

Aselia Verd Aselia Verd

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Location: Bothawui Orbit [Landing]
Objective: Sell the Sienna Blue freighter
Tags: Aselia Verd Aselia Verd | Bright1 Bright1

Space was a perfect place to hide.​
It was a shame, truly, that she wasn’t taking advantage of that fact. Nova had been on this side of the verse for quite some time but she still wasn’t used to it. Freedom. Fresh air. Being enslaved on her homeworld had forever changed her in ways that she could never return from. Watching people, friends, she knew get carted away by the dozen for no other reason than the body gave in—And the Sith Empire needed fodder for their war machine?​
Nova would never look at the galaxy the same way again.​
A small Neimoidian freighter that she had “borrowed” cruised ponderously around the patrolled orbit of Bothwai while another ship seemed to be losing control. The traffic controllers didn’t pay much attention to her when some other sod seemed to be on a crash course for who knew what and who knew where. She could almost feel the panic rising and could only imagine the buckets of sweat this junker had caused. She punched in her landing codes and the colors of her ship displayed themselves proudly in the light of the system's star.​
The cloaking device had been wrecked when she liberated the Sienna Blue from its previous owners but the Neimoidians were masters of paranoia. They had used a little reflec to help out for this exact scenario but Nova wasn’t interested in subterfuge. She had attained the proper transponder codes that would mask who she was and credentials that no one would be able to prove were forgeries. For all intents and purposes, she owned this thing. At least until she sold it and reaped a full profit.​
Nemmies were something else though. They sought duplicity and guile the way a young grub seeks the safety and warmth of sleeping in its niche in a communal hive. This ship was a good example of that. It was, to all appearances, merely a commercial vessel, with a horseshoe shape that was designed to carry lots of cargo. Not until an unwary enemy came within firing range would some pretty heavy durasteel armor plating, blaster turrets, and military-strength communications arrays become available.​
By which time, of course, it would be too late.​
The bridge was mostly silent save for a few muted chimes and beeps of various life-support monitors and a nearly inaudible air filtration system. It was only one of many luxuries that would fetch a good price on the “free” market. All she had to do was get to get to the surface, meet, and make the trade. Nova had assurances that her contact was reputable but she had her reservations.​
What was the world coming to when she had to trust a Toydarian fence?​
“This is the Sienna—Engaging in docking protocol.”
Desperate times, desperate measures.​
 







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Location: Bothawui
Equipment: Aselia's Beskargam
Tag: Bright1 Bright1 | Nova Dragr Nova Dragr

The sound of a second ship drew her attention, turning she looked up at the the ship descending leaving a trail of smoke in its wake through the enhanced sensor suite in her armor it began giving her a detailed damage report of the ship and she let out a low whistle. "That thing looks like its about to fall out of the sky. Best of luck there." she spoke to nobody in particular and made her way out of the starport, many of the Bothan natives took one look at her and moved out of the way. She quietly made her way through the crowd toward the local cantina, the hud in her helmet was actively scanning the faces in the crowd as she walked matching them up silently to any potential bounties that had been posted.

Did she need the money from bounties? Not really but it was the hunt she found challenging and it had the added bonus of keeping her skills sharp, but after all she was here in business. She reached over and tapped on a control padd on her left arm and shut off the bounty recognition system as she entered the cantina, distractions would not be ideal not this time anyways.

She moved through the crowd and made her way up to the bar and flagged down the bartend. "Get me your best drink, also.." she dropped a handful of credits on the bar. "Need a bit of information on the side." the bartender seemed unimpressed, she simply groaned and grabbed more credits from her belt pouch and dropped them on the bar. "So now do I have you're attention or do I show you why I have this armor?" the man quickly snatched up all the credits and went about getting her drink.

 
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BOTHAWUI

The Galaxy was truly showing its backside.

It had been years since the Mandalorian returned to the Southern Systems. Exactly how long? He had lost count admittedly. For the longest time, he and Tor had been hunting their way to a small fortune. It seemed that, with every war, there was an angsty government more than happy to paint fat targets on their adversaries. The huntsmen would have been daft not to collect. Thus, they worked their way down from the Galactic north, bagging as many targets as their freighter could carry. Aether was perfectly content to continue plying his trade as long as possible, but current events saw him make a call home.

When he sat down with the old man over the 'Net, it was painfully obvious that his services were needed elsewhere. Sure, he could continue filling his bank accounts with bloodsoaked credits. But the family had needs - and that was compensation enough. In short order, he and Tor went their separate ways and Aether was headed back to the South. The trek was going to take quite some time due to how shoddy his hyperdrive was. Therefore, he decided to make a pit stop on Bothawui to sleep in an actual bed. For the afternoon, he'd kick his feet up at a local watering hole. Maybe even browse about before making the final leg to Naboo.

Thus, by the time another armored figure entered the cantina, Aether was sitting pretty at a booth. Garbed in golden beskar'gam, the warrior busied himself raising his buy'ce ever so slightly to admit his lips to the glass. It was hard not to miss another of his ilk, however. So he lowered his helm just long enough for the onboard IFF to do its thing. Usually, the system would just produce barebones information - such as if there were outstanding bounties or notable affiliations. Yet for this one? Aether's eyebrows rose. His booth and drink were promptly abandoned as he crossed the bar with eager strides.

The last time he had seen Aselia Verd Aselia Verd , she had freshly joined the House. Hell, Aether was just a short stack back then - barely tall enough for his ears to reach her shoulder. Now? Now he had her by a good buy'ce's height and some. He strode up to her seat, grinning behind his helm. "Su'cuy ner'vod!" he said. "It's been too long."


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ONE SECOND THOUGHT
It became rather clear to woman that she had no idea where to even start looking for equipment. What to do in a time like this one asks? Why, check the cantinas for loose lips of course. So that's what she did. Pushing aside the crowds, she caught sight of a fellow Mandalorian ducking into an establishment, and thought it best to follow. If they were local after all, they'd know where to get some good hardware.​
Entering the bar, her eyes scanned the for a hint of beskar, and found not one, but two sets of it by the bar. Just her luck it seemed. Moving towards the pair, a hand grabbed for her, finding her wrist, which she quickly twisted out of and promptly punched out the poor bastard who had made the mistake of grabbing her. The Rodian she clocked out seemed surprised by her reaction speed, though she hardly spared him a cursory glance as he slipped against his table. Unsure as to what that was about, Tatiana slide in beside her fellows, her hand going for her credit pouch, which sadly was a tad bit lighter after those fines. Ordering a drink, she turned to the two, and spoke in Mando'a. "Don't suppose you two know where a girl can get some decent firepower on this world? Tatiana, Clan Ordo. Don't think we've met." After a moment of waiting, she slams her fist into the bar top. "Hey, who do I have to stab to get some drinks in this tub?" She hollared, not paying any mind to the table of the man she has just punched out, nor the rather furious little band of Rodians who just watched their brother be punched out during his bachelor party.​

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Location: Bothawui
Equipment: Aselia's Beskargam
Tag: Bright1 Bright1 | Aether the Iron Aether the Iron | Nova Dragr Nova Dragr


Her eyes followed the bartender through the visor of her helmet as she awaited the drink and more importantly her information, her focus was momentarily drawn away when she heard somebody from behind her, a familiar voice but different, she quietly tapped the control interface for her armor and turned back on the IFF turning she saw the mando clad in gold and inclined her head. The IFF kicked and it immediately went purple, CIS then reclassified as as House Verd and then.... Aether!? Aselia damn near jumped out of her chair.

"Aether are you serious? bu'nas'a you're tall." she let out a laugh and slugged him in the shoulder with a beskar covered gauntlet. She then reached up and yanked her buy'ce from her head allowing the red hair to fall loose and the familiar yet older face of his sister to become visible. She was grinning ear to ear when her face was visible and held her buy'ce under her arm. "Come on Vod drinks are on me." she said as she ushered him toward the bar and the seat next to her.

Then another voice this one speaking Mando'a, she turned and looked toward another armor clad Mandalorian,still wearing the smile from meeting her brother in such a remote backwater she replied to Bright1 Bright1 in Mando'a. "Not too sure off hand, I have only just arrived. I'm Aselia, Clan Verd." she nodded over her shoulder at the big guy in the gold armor. "As you no doubt guessed that's my brother."

Finally the bartender made his way with Aselia's drink and set it in front of her before turning his attention the two other Mandalorians, she grabbed it and knocked it back in an instant setting the glass back down. Turning to look at Aether. "Looks like we'll need to catch up later, know any joints around we can gear up?"

 
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BOTHAWUI

Thud!

As the siblings reunited, there was the telltale din of a fist colliding with flesh. Having traversed the underbelly of the Galaxy for so long, Aether did not bat an eye at the noise. Frankly, a watering hole wasn't worth a damn if someone wasn't getting their nose caved in. Thus, the establishment officially earned his silent approval.

All the while, the man's attention was firmly settled upon his sister. It was hard not to be delighted - upon stepping for within the South, he was greeted with family. She guided him over to the bar and removed her helmet. Aether did the same and chuckled when she slugged his arm. << Maybe you're just short. >> came his Mando'a answer.

He wasn't about to say no to free drinks though.

It wasn't until the deliverer of the punch strode over that the establishment earned yet another gold star. The armored soul introduced herself in Mando'a, earning a wide grin. Tatiana of Clan Ordo. Rendering a nod, the Mandalorian replied in their native tongue. << Should be a fence holed up in this bar, actually. They're bound to have the oomph you're looking for. >>

Clutching his beverage glass, the man demolished the first shot before properly introducing himself. << Aether. Clan Verd. Good to meet you. >>

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Location: Bothawui [Cantina]
Objective: Sell the Sienna Blue freighter
Tags: Aselia Verd Aselia Verd | Bright1 Bright1 | Aether the Iron Aether the Iron

The meeting place had been suggested by a so-called trustworthy Toydarian, if, such a thing existed. Landing and logging her falsified codes had gone off without a hitch. The auburn-haired woman was surprised to see how much Bothawui reminded her of more popular Core Worlds. It had always been an acclaimed trade hub and industrial center but it was also a place where assassins and spies flourished with impunity. No one would bat an eye at a helmeted female-headed toward a cantina in the middle of it all.​
Nova had to step over a Rodian that was sleeping in a pile of rags that was near a recessed entrance. If it gave her reason to pause—She didn’t. The Mandalorian had long since become accustomed to the grittier side of the galaxy. It was impossible not to when her formative teenage years had been literal nightmare fuel beneath the yoke of the Sith Empire. Every depraved, sickening act, had come to visit those she loved. There was a reason she kept to herself.​
If she didn’t have anyone?​
She had nothing to lose.​
Nova had often wondered if all sleazy merchants subscribed to the same service. The one that listed the most disgusting and disreputable places in the galaxy for trade deals. Inside the outwardly interesting cantina was a small lobby. Most of the area was taken up by a portcullis designed to keep the riff-raff out—But otherwise, it was easy to get in. No one asked or blinked at the slugthrower that sat on either of her hips. No one blinked at her armor.​
She walked up to the bar, entirely oblivious, of the trio of characters that were already associating. One female seemed to be looking for a place to get gear while another was interested in getting drinks—While the male was already making himself at home, booze in hand. That seemed about right for a crew of what appeared to be fellow members of the bucket-brigade. Part of her wanted to stop. To associate. Just to feel, for a few moments, as if she weren’t the last of her Clan. She missed the aliit that had never escaped the slave pits of Morindinae as Mandalore had been renamed. “You can find weapons, ammo, and armor at the shop off of Skyway 34.”, was all she offered. They ( Aether the Iron Aether the Iron , Aselia Verd Aselia Verd , and Tatiana Ordo) would do well to stay out of the pricier shops further up. Scalpers, trying to hock cheap steel as beskar.​
Gloved fingers set down a few credits on the bar and she removed her helmet so she could look the barkeep in the eye. Far shorter than he, she still seemed to stand tall. Hold her own weight—Looking for information, not liquor. “I’m looking for a Toydarian named Milo.”
The proprietor glanced at her again, then, shifted his bulk and pointed toward the other end of the cantina with a grimy finger. “Booth eight.”, he said.​
Nova nodded her head and stepped away. The booth was barely big enough to contain the four individuals who were already crowded into it. She approached without fear and waited just Infront of a single contour couch that blocked the way, observing, before raising a hand, two fingers flicked out, to get their attention. Milo hovered slightly out of the seat, facing her, and the sound of his rapidly beating wings provided a constant background buzz. The dim light darkened his already mottled blue skin to an unhealthy shade of purplish-black.​
Someone needed to lay off the death sticks.​
Near the Toydarian stood another, bulkier form; Nova could tell that it was a non-human but the light really wasn’t great enough in that section to make a real guess. She did wish Milo would stop hovering. Whatever the being near her trader was, stank, like a silage bin at high noon on Tatooine. The breeze generated by Milo’s wings was…Really not helping.​
“Lady Synnovia!”, Milo said, his voice somehow sounding faintly of static, as if it were turned just a hair off true. Nasal as all get out. “Good to see you again, my friend. It has been too long.”
“I’m not a lady and we’re not friends, Milo.”
“Oh, come now. Have a drink with us, eh?”
Really, she had to hand it to Milo. He was an old crook but nobody could fake sincerity like he could. In reality, the best thing that could be said about the Toydarian was that he would never stab a client in the back unless it was absolutely…Expedient.​
 

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