We've got the Moves like Jabba | CIS Dominion of Tatooine

[Razelle Breuner]

Location: Just outside Mos Grima Spaceport
Objective: Prep for her... "mission."
Tags: [member="Walker Twin-Sleeves"]
Post Count: 1

Tatooine was one of those places you never forgot how to survive after you'd done it once. It was dry, hot, and bright. There were ways to deal with all three of these problems. Light clothing that covered all of your skin was the easiest way to deal with the hot and bright, and the dry was fixed by just having a lot of water. Unfortunately, water was very expensive on Tatooine, so it was a very good idea to bring enough with you to last longer than you thought you'd need. This meant that Raz was fully kitted out in robes, carrying enough canteens to support herself for about twice as long as she figured this mission would take.

What mission? Well...

One can't maintain a functional presence on any planet without having the support of the natives. Razelle had exploited this fact a few times in her life, most recently on Secundus Ando. In order to organize, militarize, and direct an aboriginal population, though, one first needed to have their respect. Normally, special forces did this by offering food or logistics support to a suffering village. The Sand People of Tatooine, though, were not suffering, and would never accept support from an outsider. What they would do, though, was accept an outsider. She'd read all about it back when she was working for Sith all...three or so times she'd done it. Darth Krayt had been adopted by a Tusken tribe without question by showing his prowess as a warrior.

And Raz's mission, since she'd proven herself so capable of sedition and the mobilization of the indigenous, was to replicate what one of the most lauded Sith Lords of all time had done. Alone, without the Force or any lightsabers, no support, and no oversight. Frankly, it was sort of a dream come true. "Zero oversight" meant there were no regulations or expectations holding her back. If she needed to subjugate a tribe through force, or assassinate their leader, or infiltrate their ranks, she'd have those options available to her. That said, she decided to try the diplomatic approach first.

A warrior of the Sand People was first and foremost a hunter, because food was scarce on Tatooine. Deep in the Dune Sea, the tiny trading post of Mos Grima wasn't even big enough to be noted on many corporate maps. Razelle hadn't had a lot of competition for one of the six bays it had for her Rime, and as she leaned up against a rented speeder outside the city's walls, looking out onto the dunes, she considered what the lack of people here meant. That said, she wasn't in this alone.

"I can hear you sweating from here," she jabbed at Walker, eyes still set in her electrobinoculars. She needed to find some large creature, murder it, and bring it to the natives. "If you don't keep your head about you, we won't make it far out before you go all heat stroke on me."

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Objective 2: Feed the locals
Location: Tatooine

"Yes, I would like ice cream very much. Two maxibig sundaes please"

Maxibig sundaes? Ugohr gasped upon hearing those words. For the past few months, he served more breaded fish, fries and pho than he cared to count, regardless of whether he was selling it to refugees or not. But a maxibig sundae was not for the faint of heart: he needed one banana, sliced into rings, three scoops of ice cream, three marraschino cherries and finally some chocolate syrup. That was a sundae the Gungan would not forget, and he made a mental note about the preparation of the sundaes, regardless of their size. Meanwhile, the other staffer manning the second register next to his was a lot faster but then again, the customer only ordered a cone of soft vanilla ice cream, a far cry from a sundae, never mind a maxibig one. But when the maxbig sundae was completed, he would hand the maxibig sundae to the eager customer, that has either to eat quickly or has multiple mouths to feed with the sundae: the trick of ordering one super-sized serving vs. several smaller servings was a common one he encountered when refugees are everywhere.

"Yoursa maxibig sundae"

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Wicked Womp Rat Cantina.

---

Allecto City, Tatooine.

---

---

Obj. III | BYOO

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EErLymQFmWM[/media]

"Now hang on there," Mishel's hands were up in the air, "listen, Beelo. I have the money, I promise."

A flash of that quick Corellian smile, that wasn't nearly as Corellian as Mishel had hoped. The Tygaran wore a blaster vest and white tee shirt with the sleeves ripped off, being on Tatooine with its twin suns burning down on you tended to have that effect. "I paid that stinkin' slug fair and square."

Beelo replied.

"Oh..." Mishel looked over at the Rodian. "I just, listen, just..."

Mishel looked at the table next to her and used the force to swing it at the Rodian's face, and then the blaster bolts flew. Now it happened that Mishel had been on Tatooine to hunt for a krayt dragon pearl or two, and it happened that she had run into Beelo before. You see, back as a Ren she ran around with [member="Alkor Centaris"] and [member="Jorus Merrill"] collecting lightsaber crystals of all sorts. Now it happened back then that she had managed herself into a bit of a money situation after Firemane figured out she was tryin' to siphon cash. It also happened that she was in debt to Beelo and his crew for - matters Mishel rather not speak of. Ren don't exactly pay and neither does being a Jedi, but here she was on Tatooine lookin' for you guessed it, more lightsaber parts.

Blaster bolts were unleashed from their barrels and scored across the cantina. Mishel used her Force push and pull to dodge and duck for cover, until she ran into this rather hefty Nitko fella. A solid KA-POW! Right in the kisser sent Mishel flying across the bar, "ow...." she muttered and put her hand to her head to check for blood. Now she wasn't alone in the cantina, you see she asked to meet with [member="Romi Jade"] and [member="Shia Kryze"] for a bit of a girls night away from Master Starfart [member="Coren Starchaser"]. Now, Beelo and Mishel threw down in a game of sabbac for a map you see, a map for this krayt dragon pearl well turns out - Beelo did remember Mishel. Something about her proclaming herself the daughter of Siobhan 'Starkiller' Kerrigan.

"I... I HAVE THE MONEY IT'S JUST NOT ON ME!" She shouted back at the Rodian in a rather piss-poor huttese accent. Elbows were thrown in the mix, tables became weapons as did chairs. [member="Marakai Al'Orren"] also happened to be there, not that Mishel knew - Mara knew Mishel though, caught her on Coruscant. Literally, but now Mishel rolled from the bar's counter top and behind the bar. "STOP SHOOTING!" Mishel yelled and looked behind her and grabbed a few bottles and looked over the counter, more blaster bolts. She threw the bottles across aiming for the 'Wild Rodians' as it were.

Suddenly, what had been a rather peaceful night to the Wicked Womp Rat, was now turning into a bit of a brawl. For a moment Mishel felt bad for [member="Kayla Wylen"] who had come just to be where the people were.

 

[Valae Heavenshield]

Objective: 2/3
[member="Jyoti Nooran"], [member="Cathbodua"], [member="Danger Arceneau"]

Valae hadn’t thought she’d live long enough to see her home again.

But as the golden orb of Tatooine became visible, she knew that it was true. Aboard a hospital cruiser, Valae teared up as she stared out the viewport at the sandy planet below. There were quite a lot of memories here; a large portion of her life had been spent here, in fact. Looking down this way, she remembered the salvager girl that she once was. How that girl would be surprised that one day she would be here – the Grandmaster of the Silver Jedi, returning home after such a time.

Needless to say, the news that the planet had fallen into Galactic Empire control had been upsetting to Valae. Thinking of her home in the hands of the ruthless Imperials was troubling, mostly because she did have few friends scattered about there. No doubt, the efforts by the CIS to liberate Tatooine from the Empire had endeared them all the more to her. And now, their arrival and support of the locals made her heart very warm indeed.

“It’s good to be back,” She said in a quiet tone, using the edge of her sleeve to dab at her eyes.

No matter how sappy she felt at the moment, she knew that there was still work to be done here. Glancing sidelong at Master Nooran, she gave the Echani a nod and a small smile. “Yes, I’d like that very much. I really ought to visit the yard while I’m here, it’s been so long.”

Though her eyes were still just a bit watery, she felt composed enough to greet the others that had chosen to accompany them today.

 

[Kayla Wylen]

Location: Wicked Womp Rat Cantina, Allecto City, Tatooine
Objective: Figure out what is happening [Objective III, BYOO]
Nearby: [member="Mishel Noren"] | [member="Romi Jade"] | [member="Shia Kryze"] | [member="Marakai Al'Orren"]

---

As the efforts to take hold of Jabba's palace continued in order to begin providing aid to the citizens of Tatooine, all Kayla could do was simply wait until it was her time to do her part. The time that was allowed to her until then still had to be spent and with having a ways to go in terms of properly integrating with regular society still, she decided to take the advice she had been given to visit a local cantina. Having been raised in an environment as sheltered as hers was, adjusting to the rest of the galaxy had been a difficult affair that took much out of her. Fortunately the calming air of Monastery, the planet she had come to call home, provided her with many a place to retreat into solitude in order to recenter herself. But for now, Tatooine required aid and until she was able to give it her time would be spent learning.

The Wicked Womp Rat cantina was the place Kayla had been told to visit and as such she had made her way over, having difficulty with not drawing attention as she walked through the city. After all, s'kytri were rare in the galaxy and with her length and skin color, and most importantly her wings, many people would stop and stare while she passed by. The woman still wasn't sure how to react to it but kept it to herself, electing to let the people be even if it got quite intrusive at times. The thought quickly dissipated when she finally entered the cantina, however.

The moment she stepped inside, a table flew past.

Blaster bolts followed.

Frozen in place for a moment, in awe by the sheer absurdity of the situation unfolding in front of her, Kayla tried to figure out what was happening while the entire place devolved into complete chaos. When stray blaster fire was hurled her way the Force called to her to snap out of it and she did by dashing away with the application of Force Speed before deciding to get to the nearest place with cover. This was the bar and after gracefully landing behind it, she found herself next to another woman who was occupied with trying to tell somone to cease fire. "W-what is going on," the s'kytri asked while still being a bit flustered by all the commotion around her, "what caused this?"

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Objective 2: Feed the locals
Location: Tatooine

"May mesa take yoursa order?"

"Yes: one large chocolate-dipped waffle cone of blueberry ice cream"

If there was one thing the Gungan knew about operating a food truck, it was that, although there was no preset pattern to what could be ordered from any given customer, the limited size of the menu made it so that customers always requested what felt like the same old items after a while. The question was not one of the cone, but the lever on the ice cream machine that converted the powdered ice cream into the soft ice cream they craved, with the cone choice being the easy part. Between cake, waffle and pretzel cones, all of which were gluten-free, the waffle cone was by far the most popular of the gang, with the cake cone being associated to the baby-sized servings, and the pretzel cones were cones that seemed to be better fit for sundaes. Once the Gungan was done getting the cone in order, the Gungan became increasingly impatient to either eat something or drink a cold drink. Here it seemed that the customers were more interested in the ice cream than in the cold drinks; for some of them it was a treat they could not have very often.

 

[Walker Twin-Sleeves]

Location: The ass-end of nowhere.
Objective: Supporting a lunatic.
Tags: [member="Razelle Breuner"]
Post Count: 1
Objective 3: Coarse Diplomacy

"Of COURSE I'm sweating." Walker complained, fussing with the strap of a waterskin under his robes. "This planet is made of heat and misery, my good woman, and I honestly question the sanity of anyone who'd want to lay claim to it." He huffed. Traveled as Walker was, and as self-concerned as he was, the blue-haired huckster had well researched all the things he'd need to survive a desert planet like Tatooine. That didn't make it any more comfortable, or change the fact that he was a skinny, pale creature from a damp and relatively cool place. All the survival ponchos and electrolyte-laden water in the world, Walker worried, wouldn't stop him from simply passing out in the heat three moment they had to move beyond a brisk walk. Which begged the question...

"Why am I even here, anyway?" Walker questioned rationally, not whining even a little bit. "You're going to beat up some local color if they aren't impressed by your (admittedly legendary) monster-hunting skills, as I dimly recall from your lengthy briefings." He reiterated. He adjusted his tinted goggles and frowned. "I'm still not sure what role I'm to play in all of this, save providing you with a steady stream of disgust as I whinge, pant, and sweat my way into an early grave."

"I honestly feel my talents would be MUCH better utilized on the ship, preparing a tall pitcher of sangria and something sweet for your inevitably triumphant return." Walker pontificated idly, turning around to clean the sand from his nails as Razelle surveilled. "I don't even have a blaster, so I don't know how I'm going to impress ANYONE, let alone help you go down in the doubtlessly thrilling oral tradition of the sand people as the blondest, most cagey chieftain to just show up with a month's worth of free food, unasked."

He glanced up at her briefly. "Besides. This planet is crawling with black market beasties, right? Couldn't we just buy or steal one, kill it, and then claim you bested it in single combat or whatever? Seems much easier."

 

[Genesis Rostu]

Location: Allecto City, Nearing Nari's Residence
Wearing: Beskar'gam
Objective: Hutticide
Tag: [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Syn Blacken"], [member="Koda Fett"], [member="Erin Tenel"] + Allies

Step One - Know the Exit.

Years ago, when Dagon was but an untested welp, he learned valuable lessons at the feet of his sire. They came in the form of stories...or rather, exagerrated recountings of the man's numerous exploits. Yet, despite the gilded world Dagon's sire painted, the foundation of surviving a high risk situation were there. And so, the Mandalorian took them and made them his own, carving them into how he proceeded into every dealing. Now, Nari the Hutt was no fool. Though Dagon did not know the mongrel personally, common sense said that he would recognize the signs. The Empire fell, leaving a vacuum that criminals would eagerly fill.

The Confederacy hated slavery, and more so hated the Empire. And so they would pounce on that vacuum like a cheetah upon a gazelle.

Nari would certainly take steps to protect himself from the nation of droids - and so Dagon would have to think smart. He first began by devising an exit strategy - and that meant rubbing elbows with a modern legend. There weren't many in the Mandalorian side of things who didn't know [member="Koda Fett"]. Some called him the second coming of Boba, while others affectionately referred to him as "Best Mando." And the reason for the praise were the results he drove. He was good at what he did - so good that every nation worth a damn had contracted him for a job thus far. And now, by proxy, the Confederacy would be the latest state to join that roster.

Compliments of Dagon reaching out over the airwaves. The offer of a handsome heap of credits on top of his usual rate was enough to encourage the Legend to descend from on high. And the Blood Rider felt some degree of confidence in the fact that the Fett had his back. As he ascended the steps, he briefly checked in over the comm - "Only a minute or so from the front door ner'vod. Got visual?"

The "oh chit" button for the operation was simple. Koda had ordnance. Koda could make a door wherever there needed to be one. Plain and simple.

The next step was having a second angle of attack. This is where [member="Scherezade deWinter"] came in. While her reputation was completely foreign to the Mandalorian, what he did know was she intended on moving on the same target. With help. This was perfectly fine, but there had to be some...method to the madness or they'd all get killed. So, for that reason, he kept the line of contact open with the woman by regularly pinging her comm. Once he breached the facility, she would know to start her end of the operation. Whether that meant unleashing baby Hutts or other madness would remain to be seen by Dagon personally.

But whatever her game plan was, the time had now Arrived.

Upon reaching the Apex of the stairs, the Mandalorian was promptly stopped by a handful of brutes. The usual thuggery that could be expected - Trandoshans, Gamorreans, and even a Rodian made up the posse at the entrance. Dagon raised his hands accordingly, subjecting himself and the Droid to scans. He was allowed to keep his primary weapon, a simply blaster carbine, so long as it remained where they could see it. As for the Droid, a fresh coat of Nightshadow underneath its chrome plating was enough to keep the ordnance safely hidden away.

Dagon gave his credentials...and was promptly escorted inside.

 

[Aston Jacobs]

​

Location:Who knows
Objective:Support
(1)

There had to have been a better place to be. Why here of all places, Aston wasn't very fond of Tatooine probably because it was so fething hot. The only good thing about this was that he was in a landspeeder out in the middle of nowhere as he was hot on the trail of a certain individual who was quite important to him.

Did he have to come, no but he felt it might be best to do so. Aston was wearing a smuggling outfit and while he would like to help take the palace he was here, chasing footsteps in the sand that disappeared seconds after they were made. Aston tapped the computer a bit as he was picking up signs of life and the beeping got a bit louder.

"Oh that could be anything." Aston exclaimed as he leaned his head back a moment and just stared ahead and steered the small landspeeder towards the indicator. And it didn't take long till he was coming upon the indivduals he was looking for..... [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] [member="Gerwald Lechner"]

Aston stopped the landspeeder by them both and he chuckled lightly. "Perhaps someone sent me to have your back. If you need it of course." Aston jerked his head towards the empty seats to his right. "Do you both need a lift?"

 

[Charlie Nooran]

[SIZE=10pt]Charlie had done her research on Tatooine and she wasn’t the most excited to head to a planet that was scorching hot. Why couldn’t they go to temperate planets? Looking over at her Master as the woman spoke to the Grandmaster, Charlie wondered what Jyoti was thinking coming to this place. They both knew the Echani hated hot things like this place. The corners of her lips curled on her small face as she remembered the secret tool she had brought with her for this mission. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Rummaging through her bag, she pulled out the small personal fan and started to fiddle with it. After a few moments she managed to turn it on and the small blades sliced through the air propelling air into her face. A happy sigh escaped the small padawan as she felt the comforting breeze blow into her a face. This little thing would be a life saver on the dessert planet. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]At the time of her discovering how to use the fan, she caught wind of the conversation on the bridge. She wandered closer and stood with the small hand fan blowing on her. “Why would we get shot here? Is it because it’s so hot people are perpetually angry and agitated?” Her tone flat as it seemed her question was serious. [/SIZE]


[member="Jyoti Nooran"] [member="Valae Kitra"] [member="Cathbodua"] [member="Errreembuhr"]

 

[Koda Fett]

​

LOCATION: Allecto City
ALLIES: [member="Dagon"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Syn Blacken"]

The Mandalorian found it amusing that he - an exile - was 'popular' among Mandalorians. It didn't diminish his ability to be one, but instead limited his connection to them. Although, Koda didn't exactly mind; there always was a certain disconnection between the Bounty Hunter and his people, if you could even call them that. His actions were his own, and he paid the price for them... a Bounty Hunter never complained, or so Jango's guide taught the Clone. Fett didn't view himself as the second coming of Boba, preferring to believe he was his own man - despite the similarities the two bore, instead he'd rather believe himself more akin to Jango. For Boba only ever was that poor boy back where he was from. Yet, time changed all things, even perspective. He wasn't even aware if others were aware that he was a Clone or not, he attempted to keep such a thing hidden through a lack of speech and never removing that helmet. A shame to see that Fett Clones simply weren't lost to time, however.

"Clear." Koda briefly replied. As mentioned earlier, he always tried to limit what he said. Even then, it's safe to assume that he happens to be socially stunted. That is what happens with particular upbringings, thrust into a life alongside people you disagreed with in their entirety. Every day was a struggle, but now he was finally free. That is all he could ever ask.

Tatooine was filthy. Filled to the brim with sand that found itself inside your boot, aliens that deserved to get smacked for nothing other than the way they looked at you, and worst of all the Hutts. They paid well, but Fett adored killing them. There was something about the way they absorbed most bolts, dying of shock before anything else. Even watching one explode was... terrific. If not horrific, too. It took a certain type of man to become 'the right kind of scum'.

For now, however, he waited. Soon the decoy would detonate, and like a scavenger he was to move on in and pick up the pieces. There were more riches within a Hutt's Palace than most could ever dream of.

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Objective: Kill a Krayt Dragon, get a pretty pearl for Gerwald
Wearing: This
Tags: [member="Gerwald Lechner"] [member="Aston Jacobs"]
Post: One

Was Katrine planning on stopping Gerwald from killing a Krayt Dragon because he wanted its pearl for a lightsaber? Nah, she was all for it. Besides, she liked Tatooine. Even with the debacle from half a year ago. Father liked Tatooine, it was a place he brought them to from time to time. It was one of those memories Katrine clung to from her childhood in her need to have more of him around them. Now though, it seemed she and Gerwald were making memories of their own.

Her outfit was old, reminded her of a time when she stared herself into the mirror and had to be reminded by her imaginary friend just how unique she was, and just how much she belonged to her and no one else. It was a lie. Her purple shades were her own way of honoring Father. They were a family who loved leather. Her black coat, which once belonged to Father was just another proof of that. And now looking at Gerwald as she walked alongside him, she was reminded Lupines loved leather. Not just Van-Dervelds.

It was a little obvious he wasn't quite adjusting to the sun that Kat called on the Force, rising the sand up, lifting it up above them to offer some shade above them. Bits of it fell like raindrops but most of it held up, providing a tiny portion of protection from the two suns. "Adjust a bit," Katrine suggested before she felt the approaching presence, making her turn back to see the speeder arriving. "Aston!" The Witch cheerfully greeting before he chuckled. Maybe someone sent him to have their backs, before offering them a lift. "Definitely could use one, dear," Katrine agreed before she climbed in, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek. "But you can't interfere. Gerwald's gonna kill a Krayt Dragon," she informed him happily. Maybe part of her wanted to do it but no, she was gonna behave and let him do it. But she was definitely gonna take the offered ride to get to their destination faster.

After a second, she looked back to Gerwald. The small sand cover was still holding above him as she tapped the seat. Walking in the sand was fun but they would speed things along this way and get to the real fun.

 

[Ursula Vizla]

Location: Allecto City, New Alecto.
Objective: 1, Keep the Hutts away.
Gear (As it goes): Black Fligh suit, Osseus Class ExoSkeleton, Legacy System Beskar’gam (equipped with: Jetpack with two individual thrusters, one wrist rocket launchers, two cortosis gauntlets, two crushgaunts, one wrist mounted retractable vibroblades, and two wrist flamethrowers, one Mandalorian Power Shield, and one KE-1 Shoulder Mounted Slugthrower), AIMX-01 "Buckler" Energy Shield Cybernetic Arm, armorweare black cape with Vizla symbol in the back in red ink, pair of R82 jump boots, Utility Belt (equipped with: Two thermal detonators, one grappling spike launcher, ammo, one comlink, one EX-324 Serum Subjects, two hand granades).
Armory: One custom made Masamune, four Shiva Knifes, one T-7 ion disruptor rifle, two MT 14 Heavy Blaster Pistol.
Allies: Four fellow protectors, two Harbinger War Droid.


She hated bugs. Flies, caterpillars, butterflies, cockroaches, Hutts, slugs, snails, beatles, wasps, and now, specially there would be a special place in her heart for Tattooine. Arriving in her own ship, Ursula dropped in a kriffing town, in a kriffing desert in a kriffing sand planet. The scene was something to be recorded by historians, mandalorians and droids that hated and loved each other working together, against thugs and scum. The place was ready to become a shooting gallery. She could almost smell beneath the helmet, the sweet taste of sweat, fear, dwang, drink, blood, guts and a lot of anger in the air, and she that made her fall in love right away.

The woman were her friends and business partners; they were Jha Pett in orange, Alu Gouhl wearing a bright green, Bhiannannarn (or jus “Bhia”) a wookie in pure sad gray, and her favorite companion, Hannege Sagehl that always wore a vivid red. And with two battle droids that she bought long time ago in her side for back up, Ursula almost seemed to shine in her pale, nearly scratchless, and grim black armor. A color that meant one her favorite words. ‘Justice, guide my actions today’, she prayed silently in the deepest corner of her mind. It sounded like a blasphemy for her.

Raising the left hand, pointing out two finger for the companions to start moving. Walking down the street, stopping right in the middle of the place, eyes set on her, someone honking his speeder for her to get off the street, and then raising her T7 and aiming at the nearest alien she saw. Pulling the trigger on his back and watching as his body turned to mush. Next, she turned to the one that was on the speeder, doing the same thing, only this time, she aimed for a clear shot in the head. Shouting with all her lungs for the citizens of that farkled place of sin.

“Schuttas and krogs… I’m Firestorm and i’m here looking for thugs and lowlifes that work for that old slug.”, not long after saying that, Alu whistled out loud for Ursula, making her turn immediately and firing the disruptor on a trandosha that was reaching for a gun in his waist. An, so came back to shouting. “I will kill every single one of you to make sure you understand how awful is to support criminals. Unless you guys want to step up and a have a little chat with me, champs.”, both droids and companions were with eyes and sensors in every direction, watching for any sudden move, or reading of any weapon. For Vizla, it was simple, if you want to hurt a Hutt, make his image look bad, and then the slug or his peers will come out of they’re hidings.

 

[Alessandra Creed]

​

Location: Dune Retreat/Temple
Objective: BYOO: Business.
Tags: [member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Jairus Starvald"]
Post Count: 2​

​

​

Adron smiled, and despite herself, she always found herself smiling back. The raven-haired beauty was certain that there was some kind of conflict of interest to be observed between their two departments mingling so frequently but she willfully chose not to see the implication. They worked well together. He had become somewhat of a static presence to life, and if anything, the young woman appreciated the consistency. The Minister of War was always there.

“It’s not really that much worse than Geonosis.”, Alessandra responded slowly, though in truth, the two worlds couldn’t have been more different. Hundreds of a tears ago Geonosis would hardly have been able to support a human population. Now it was a bustling ecosystem full of commerce profitable marketability. It was the beating heart of the Confederacy. “Both planets are dry, arid, and tend to attract a rather interesting crowd.”

That was generalizing in a way that could almost have been considered ignorant were it not for the fact that she was deliberately overlooking the obvious. She chuckled lightly, the sound a mixture of velvet and steel, while her eyes followed the more subtle movements her companion made. “Yes. You are.”, she agreed simply, without letting on, what she truly thought on the matter. Alessandra remained silent for a long moment when her fellow Minister suggested that they get out of the office and abandon their duties for a little while. A slow smile spread across her features, full of secrets, and ever pristine.

“Next week. After the meeting with the Viceroyalty. You can pick me up from my flat at seven.”

The words rolled off her tongue easily, as if she were brokering a deal, versus arranging an outing. It was smooth and unruffled as he promised that she would have a good time, though, she was curious what he had in mind. Did he know enough about her preferences to keep her amused? Perhaps.

Momentarily, Alessandra noted a presence, as she almost always did that made her eyes narrow. Everywhere she went she could feel her blood. Her family. Yet, she had looked into her. None of her family members had been anywhere near Confederate space. So who was it?

Nevertheless they had arrived at their destination and the Creed woman approached with a sense of quiet confidence. She was far smaller than Malvern or Starvald, however, she wasn’t entirely human either. The wind caused dark hair to toss this way and that as she listened to the greeting from the dark-haired man. Polite. Refined. Wrong. “Minister Malvern.”, Alessandra corrected lightly, refusing, to allow his past to creep up from the depths. Ever since Adron had allowed Srina to bring him to Geonosis that title had been buried. He was a High Moff no longer.

The suggestion to sojourn somewhere a little more civilized was met with a delicate nod. Slowly, she counted the men that surrounded them, slowly but surely. Despite the polite and educated request her office had received for a meeting she was relieved that she hadn’t come alone. Magnaguard were generally sufficient to deter the everyday problem—but this was different.

Either way, the Confederate Ministers were most definitely outnumbered.

The building that they were led into, a temple of sorts, was filled to the brim with scholarly figures. Alessandra knew what they looked like but she hated the connotation. Zealots. Fanatics. Cultists. It left a sense of distaste in the back of her mind, though, she kept it buried deep. There was a fine line between creating the concept of maintaining a brand and losing steam due to crossing the unwanted bridge of a think tank. Some groups managed to pull it off. Some didn’t.

They would follow [member="Jairus Starvald"] and Alessandra assumed that the chairs before the massive desk were furnished for guests. She took the chair to the left, leaving Adron the chair to the right, as she unwound her scarf from her neck. “As well as can be expected. Tatooine is everything I’ve heard it to be.”

It wasn’t a compliment. It was everything that she had heard it to be, and in many ways, far worse. While she held little love for the Galactic Empire itself even she could recognize the effects of its absence.

“Water would be wonderful.”, she commented, pressing a professional smile into her features, as she settled back into the chair. Starvald reminded her of her father in some ways. Large, imposing, and nigh immovable. “Have you always operated from this location?”

The ruins were too clean, despite being rubble, for someone to have simply stumbled upon them. There was also a faintly lived in feeling that persisted from the cloaked figures reading in small alcoves to the little office area they now occupied. For now, she was content to indulge pleasantries, but she would have been lying to say she wasn’t curious about what Starvald had to offer.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Allecto City, a cafe near Bridge Tower
Wearing: Jeans, black wide t-shirt, combat boots
Wielding: 12 Czerka knives, hidden beneath her clothes and in her boots, 4 glitter bullets, 20 trained Hutt babies with bombs strapped to them, spread into 4 different containers (henceforth to be known as the Hutt Breeding Program).
Objective: 1
Tags: [member="Syn Blacken"] [member="Formorta"] [member="Syn Blacken"] [member="Dagon"] [member="Koda Fett"]
Post: 2

He was staring at her for too long. Scherezade's eyebrows tried to punch each other in a way that suggested she didn't like that one bit. And then he asked if she was the one that wanted to talk to him? She blinked now, wondering what was up.

"Weren't you the one to reach out to me?" she asked, her voice giving away her genuine confusion. Had she been drinking so much lately that she forgot? She was going to have to double check. "Nevermind," she grumbled, "we got stuff to do."

She'd grown tired of some of the workings of the CIS long before the Darkness had taken her. She'd been tired of not fitting anywhere, not being able to join any force of actual substance. Sure, she'd been Mandragora, but even amongst the Witches of Ryloth she'd felt more tolerated than actually wanted, despite... Despite that good stuff that was happening with this one person who was supposed to be her adoptive sister. Scherezade took another swig from her bottle and sighed. She was about to deal with explosives, now was not the time to think about betrayals and lack of care or consideration.

The beeping in her comm alerted her though, giving signal that now was not the time for pleasantries.

"Grab two crates and follow me," she said, rising with a little stagger and doing the same herself, "careful, this is uber expensive cargo. Your name was Syn, right?" She wasn't sure if it was Syn or Sin, didn't know if it mattered. But time was of the essence.

She knew where [member="Dagon"] was. Another Mandalorian she was going to have to work with to get her plans to succeed. Part of her wanted to curse her situation, for being so surrounded by Mandalorians. But she'd also met [member="Daisy Americus"], and they'd become... Well, not friends, because Scherezade wasn't allowed to have friends, because friends betrayed you, but she certainly liked the girl.

Now was the time to be stealthy and stuff. For her, it was simple enough. She looked like a messed up kid, but she didn't draw too much attention seeing as her weapons were concealed and she was wearing just jeans and a t-shirt. Syn, on the other hand, was... In armor? She' teach him about infiltrating later. If her Potestatem group was going to lift off, they needed to be on the same page regarding certain things.

"We can't get into the actual apartment section with the cargo," she explained, "but what does pretty much every single species do, whether they are mammal, avian, or slug?" she paused, "they poop. Apartments are not made without a direct connection to the sewers, so we're going down there. Hope you got poodoo cleaners on your ship."

With that, she led them to the service entrance, where the stairs down were placed.

"If we meet anyone that isn't CIS, shoot first, ask questions never. And if you got your own ideas for happy chaotic destruction, I'm more than happy to hear it."

Before taking the first step though, Scherezade paused, drinking again from her bottle. She had to keep her mind... Well, she wasn't totally clear and focused, but she wasn't thinking about Gerwald and Katrine. At least not for the last ten seconds, an hopefully not for the next ten seconds either. New record?

 

[Formorta]

Location: Allecto City, Near Bridge Tower
Equipment: Колыбельная, Twin Vibro Knnifes, Duel DL series blasters, Ol-2, Armor
Allies-ish: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Dagon"]
Post: 2

"Well well well, looks like I am not alone... that is a problem", the sniper remarked to herself, watching the small group of people approached bridge tower splitting up into pairs. From what she knew the leader was a dewinter, a few other CIS looking people she did not know and rival bounty hunter [member="Koda Fett"]. Well not really rivals, honestly she doubted the man even really knew who she was, only meeting the guy like twice, one during a meeting and the other time being more just a quick glance. Still, such a group would be tricky to deal with and it seemed they had the same idea of using the swears to enter.

No doubt they had orders to shoot on site to keep this whole operation under wraps, Koda seemed to be keeping an eye out for just about anything. Quite a contrast to what she had heard about the galaxies number 1 bounty hunter, all the tails of guns and flame throwers painting quite the picture to most. "Best I keep low and quite, have them clear out the way, come up behind, over take and get the target while they are busy doing what ever they are up to". Hopefully non of those present where keeping tabs on a super sneaky spider woman, that would be unfortunate, but keeping under the radar was what she did best.

Her cloak would keep thermals at bay, sound dampeners and cloaking field would soften steps and sight, but the force, a mercenary gut feeling or other tech may alert the confederacy members, only time would tell. With the groups splitting up she would suspect dewinter and her compatriot would be the easiest to shadow, as long as she did not do anything threatening the force shouldn't alert them to her presence "It's show time". Putting her rifle away the 8 armed woman began her descent into the sewers behind the group, like a spider keeping to the ceiling and walls, just to add that extra touch of stealth.

 

[Razelle Breuner]

Location: In the general orbit of the least manly entity in the galaxy
Objective: Rant
Tags: [member="Walker Twin-Sleeves"]
Post Count: 2

With a sigh, Razelle reared on her speeder and reviewed her supplies. Slugthrower, combat knife, utility knife, and enough basic survival gear to keep her going for a very long time. She'd had a full night's rest before she got here and had not packed any stims, because sweating chemicals was a very good way of screwing up your entire biorhythm. As she double- and triple-checked what she'd brought with her, she continued to engage with Walker. Mostly for funzies, honestly.

"I could give you a couple of answers, I guess." As she spoke, she hopped into the pilot seat of the speeder and patted the passenger seat beside her. "I could say that you need the exposure. That being out here will be good for you, force you to adapt." She shrugged and flipped a few switches to start up the repulsors. "I could explain that it's a horrible idea to go hunting alone. Anything that gores me with meter-long tusks and leaves me to die on the sands would get exactly what it wanted without you here to call medivac."

The speeder accelerated with a lurch, and Raz guided it over the first of hundreds of dunes. Fortunately, Tatooine speeders were made with the desert climate in mind, and the little bubble windshield billowed cool air directly at their faces. It averaged a chilly 30C inside the speeder, infinitely more hospitable than the outside. It also made speaking and being heard much simpler. "It could be that I don't trust you alone on my ship, considering how you almost killed yourself with a knife the last time I left you alone for ten minutes. As tempting as that sangria sounds, I don't want half your hand to be in it."

She shrugged a bit, taking a hard left over one dune to head towards a rocky-looking area. Her eyes still had trouble adjusting to this much bright. "Or maybe I just wanted company and you need to learn how to acquit yourself. Take your pick."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

​

Objective 2: Aid, Feed, Heal [aid the locals]
Tatooine has suffered incredible damage at the hands of the Galactic Empire. Famine rages among the survivors, many of which are injured and in need of medical assistance as well as food. Take over Jabba’s Palace and establish it as our HQ where food can be brought and locals can be helped.

​

​

​

|| Near Jabba The Hutt's Palace​

​

​

[member="Jyoti Nooran"], [member="Cathbodua"], [member="Valae Kitra"]. [member="Darth Metus"]


Danger crossed the threshold of Jabba’s Palace. To think that this stronghold had once belonged to that Hutt. Of course, several other Hutts have come and gone since then, each vying for some measure of control over the chaos Jabba’s death had left. Or so the stories say. That had occured well before the 400 year darkness. What came after had turned to cantina stories.

Haven Shipyards supply freighters sent a billow of sand and grit into the air as the first set its landing struts down. The first of many. They had been sent by Arceneau Trade to provide supplies. Haven Shipyards had recently expanded it’s shipyard capabilities in orbit; one of the boons that allowed a quick turn around on supplies. Their recent line of ships allowed for faster transport and delivery.

Now she just had to determine who was in charge here. Would she see familiar faces?

“Mistress, Mistress!” A voice would call out to her right. It was one of the updated models of the L3 units. This one did not have the wheel drive to help it maneuver. It would have gotten stuck amidst the sands. Instead it would hover on repulsors as it drifted over to her.

“We have begun the deployment of supplies. However, in this heat, it is imperative that proper hydration comes first.”

“Among other things,” Danger said wryly, drifting her eyes towards the growing crowd.

“Let’s see who we can find is in charge here.”

 

[Walker Twin-Sleeves]

Location: The ass-end of nowhere.
Objective: Passive-aggressive narration.
Tags: [member="Razelle Breuner"]
Post Count: 2
Objective 3: Coarse Diplomacy


"I did not 'almost kill myself'." Walker hissed, leaning his face into the air conditioning vents built into the speeder. "I cut my hand, because there was a rat and it startled me." Beady, black eyes and fur matted with pestilence would have scared ANYONE making their breakfast. Speaking of which...

Walker lifted a vacuum thermos to his lips and had a healthy swig of buttermilk coffee, the perfect beverage to conquer the desert with.

"Reflecting, it makes perfect sense that you'd want me to secure your escape vectors." Walker continued, twisting around in the seat to check their supplies for his things. Gifts for the natives, trinkets and treasures to earn their favor. Nothing heavy, because Razelle would grumble about wasted space and weight, but enough to make some decent trades if the Sand people were of a mind to do so. Maybe he could turn a profit on this trip, despite the extenuating circumstances!

Doubtful.

Walker's butt found the seat again, and he offered Razelle his thermos of coffee while he searched the radio for decent music. Something they could properly hint a great beast to, bang heads to, something to get the blood flowing. Aquilish Death Hymns had a hard bass and abusive drum line, that'd do.

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Objective 2: Feed the locals
Location: Tatooine

"Yoursa cone of ice cream"

Disen sun issa munchen mesa skin, he thought, while realizing that he and the Squibs he hired for building the hydroponic farm around Mos Osnoe could use a maxibig sundae. For quality control assurance, he would simply let another one start his shift at the register and just get out of the kitchen to order a maxibig sundae, offset against his salary for this operation. The Gungan would thus simply stay in line, and stay a while outside the scorching suns of Tatooine while his skin began to get more stiff, on top of drying up. Especially since it is dry heat; everybody that knew Gungan anatomies would realize that they preferred humid environments because of their skin. Luckily refugees were being served quickly and efficiently, so he wouldn't have to wait that long to place his order and, upon receipt of the sundae, go to a shaded area to eat it with the Squibs, knowing these Squibs would also get tired more easily, and thirsty as well, from working under the hot sunlight. Once the Gungan arrived at the counter of his own food truck, he would then place his order:

"Una maxibig sundae please"