Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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When Will the Republic Learn?

Isley paid little attention to the crimson fluids that his comrade had decided to smear upon his armor. He would simply clean it on the way to Coruscant, no need to get uppity over it, especially since they were getting along oh-so-well. However, her comment about him putting on a disguise was met with a furious shake of his head. "Uh, how's about you put on a positively smashing evening gown and I'll stick to the shadows. There's no way I'm taking off my armor, not for you, not for the mission, not for anyone." Spoken like a true Mandalorian follower of the tenants known as Resol'nare, where the wearing of one's armor is a sacred custom to uphold...of course, he didn't expect Irina to know that much.

"In any case...yeah, we have a facility to annihilate...now that the offices have been 'cleared', let's have some fun."

He said that in a...semi-sadistic tone that would have made the Sith proud. Before he moved past her, he deposited the copy of the information he had downloaded into her hand and then strode forth down the hallway, headed for the actual cloning pods. He wanted to make sure not a single clone escaped his fiery judgment, and afterwards he'd bombard the facility from above with his vessel. A solid plan indeed.

"You coming?"
 

Yidhra

Mars Tsosûtiyakûtiyuska
"Ooh, touchy, are we?" the Sith grinned, a sparkling smile that revealed two rows of perfectly aligned teeth. Rolling her eyes at the suddenly principled Mandi, she swatted his padded shoulder and brushed away a couple of blood-caked dreadlocks. "Really, I need to be more careful," she muttered to herself as she absently nodded in the Mandalorian's direction, waving him away. "Yes, yes, you go on ahead, I'll catch up." Irina flashed another bright smile his way, winking for a good measure. "Relax, Isley," she chuckled, finally letting the strand of hair go. She looked up, grazing the black visor with her silver eyes.

"There's no-one left alive in this whole facility, and you've got an acute case of rushies," again, a clap across the Mandi's back let the man know of her presence. "Are all of you Mandalorians so uptight, or is it just you? Let go some, boy. Those senators on Coruscant can very well wait a few more hours," she reassured the man with a hint of mockery in her voice. "Now what did you have in mind for razing this place to the ground?" she asked with piqued curiosity, quite certain that the heavily-armored man carried some explosives on his person. After all, he was full of various and somewhat ingenious contraptions; what was a couple of bombs?
 
"I...wouldn't expect you to understand. Suffice it to say that a Mandalorian's armor is as sacred to him as...hmm...well, it's apart of our way of life. Donning our armor at all times is apart of what it means to be a member of the Mandalorians." Part of the young warrior wanted to argue with the Sith Lady that he far from being uptight...but there was little time for that. There was an objective to accomplish. A fiery, explosive objective...Isley liked explosions...

"Well, we can plant some bombs in the main cloning chamber, just to make sure that nothing survives, and then bombard the place with our ships. That's how I'd do it anyways." That being said, he continued to stride towards the main cloning facility and accessed the panel before the massive, clear doors. Of course it would be locked...so Isley simply kicked through the glass and muscled his way in. Once inside, he reached into his utility belt and produced a handful of charges. There were small, black, and rectangular; each with a clamp that would secure it to whatever he wanted. As he stepped forward to lay them about, he decided to crack a small joke...

"Now then...on the subject of Coruscant and all...what color dress are you thinking of wearing?"
 

Yidhra

Mars Tsosûtiyakûtiyuska
Irina rolled her eyes again, not bothering to check if the Mandi was looking or not; despite having grown up on Nar Shaddaa, where literarily every species and their customs would mingle with others', she had never cared for their traditions. Too many races, too little time for a waitress to ask after their way of life between being groped and taking orders. With a sigh, she brushed the old memories away and upped her pace to match the Mandi's. "A sound plan," the Sith concurred simply, following the armor-clad fighter through the shattered doors. There really wasn't much logistics to the impending demolition of the factory; their goal was to wreak havoc unto the clones. After that was accomplished, any further bombardment would be purely for the enjoyment of selves. Purring at the prospect of reining death (or rather, destruction, since everyone was already dead) from above, the dark-maned woman leaned on the metal frame of the useless doors, watching the Mandalorian work with a small grin on her lips.

Nonplussed by his jab, she responded, laughing softly: "Well, I was thinking I'd keep this one, but what with all the stains…" she shrugged and trailed away for a few seconds, as if she was actually thinking the subject over, "but anyhow, I think I have this lovely red gown back on my ship. All I have to make up is which government I represent." Her chuckle resounded loudly between the quiet work the Mandi was putting his efforts in, securing the explosives in all the right places to bring the place down most effectively.
 
"Pssh," Isley joked, setting up a series of charges at the bases of the cloning pods, "With looks like yours, I'd think they'd be too busy drooling than asking political questions." Once finished, he brushed his palms together with anticipation and nearly skipped over to his Sith comrade's side. He then tapped the console upon his wrist and prepared to detonate the charges, but before he did he wanted to get another playful jab in. "You could say you're the Ambassador of Pretty and they'd believe you."

He then activated the charges. They each set into sequence with a series of clicks...and then....BOOM! With a grin plastered upon his face, the young Mandalorian stood there, arms wide open as the charges unleashed their fiery fury. The initial explosion was great, yet did not have the radius to put them in any immediate danger. Flames soon consumed the cloning pods, and a sickening chorus of semi-conscious moans filled the air. There were nearly grown clones in some of those pods...grown enough to feel the pain of burning alive.

"Ah, nothing like a good explosion to get the blood flowing!"
 

Netherworld

Well-Known Member
"Don’t be silly, Isley," the Sith easily jibed back at the Mandi, barely suppressing a guffaw. "Like I'd want to be there to wipe the drool off their chins," shuddering at the mental image, Irina stalked backwards with a light stride, leaning her head to the side in expectation of the big boom. Her heart leapt with joy when the Mandi-made explosives didn't let her down; for with a roaring force the place was torn apart before their very eyes, both protected from the pyroclastic wave – one by his armor, the other by the Force. Her lips were stretched wide in unadulterated joy at the unbridled power that danced around them, splitting the gigantic complex in pieces yet leaving them both intact. They stood there for Force knew how long, both grinning and savoring the view they had from the literal eye of the hurricane.

"I beg to differ," the Sith replied, schooling her features into a mask of seriousness. "There are many better ways to make you feel alive," her voice was ripe and dripping with innuendo as she flashed another sultry look his way. Suddenly turning on her heel, she took long strides towards the exit; after all, there was still the final vanquishing to be done with. "Come on, Mandi, don't make me wait!" she shouted over her shoulder after making it halfway to the main entrance already and the man was still nowhere to be seen.
 
"Oh yeah? Like what?"

The young warrior responded with a smirk plastered upon his face. Soon after the explosion had finished wreaking unimaginable damage upon the cloning pods, the Sith Lady had vacated the room. Isley had opted to linger for a moment or two, just staring into the flames...he was snapped out of his mesmerized state by Irina's voice and he quickly jogged out of the burning room to catch up with her.

"Sorry about that...Let's light this place up."

With that said, he upped his pace, stepping ahead of her and heading towards the exit of the facility. Once through, he'd hop into his vessel and get it primed and ready for an assault. Hopefully, following the utter decimation of the facility, they'd hammer out a finite plan for the infiltration of Coruscant and taking care of their Senator problem.
 

Yidhra

Mars Tsosûtiyakûtiyuska
Instead of answering, the Sith only chuckled in response, puckering her lips at the man. It never hurt to have such a powerful individual under one's sway, especially if it could be done with such ease and grace. Force knew that the Mandi probably never even realized when he'd started falling for the Epicanthix's charms; Irina, on the other hand, knew very well how to put that to her advantage. Hopefully, though, she'd never have to do that, for her true fancy lay with the other end of the spectre; not that she'd never had herself some man, far from that, but she never did prefer them. Just…too burly, noisy and uncouth, most of them. Of course, her preferences could very well have stemmed from the circumstances she'd grown up and continued to train in, but who cared, really?

"No worries, big boy," the dark-haired woman laughed easily, slapping him on the shoulder. The rest of their day went by in a flash – after all, we know that time just flies when you're having fun, don't we? – and the falling evening found Irina relaxing in the pilot's chair, a wide, leering smirk splayed across her features. With ease, she dialed up the Mandi with the comm-link and spoke, her words barely more than a drawl. "So what exactly did you have in mind for the two naughty boys from Coruscant, Isley?" A soft sigh signified her utter comfort with the newfound situation; Irina was nothing if not adaptable. "Do you have any stealth devices? And even if you do, we have to get you through customs somehow. I'm fairly sure they won't just let you pass, a walking armory that you are," she mused, mirth lacing her soft voice. "In any case, I should probably go in first, prepare the territory an' all," she thought aloud, her eyes gazing out into the empty void of space she was drifting in. "Maybe pose as a representative of the cloning facility?" she continued, one dark eyebrow rising, "You know, draw them out of their hidey-holes and then drag them somewhere to be executed quietly. We'll mine them for info before we kill them, 'course," she added, smirking, as if it were the most natural thing in the Galaxy.
 
A large chunk of time flew by as if it were a mere handful of minutes, and before the young Mandalorian knew it, the fun had been had. The Sith and the young warrior had laid waste to the facility from above, raining down a fiery decimation from their respective ships before ascending from the planet and flying off into the abyss of space. As Isley kicked back in his pilot's chair, feet upon the main console with his hands casually resting upon his chest, the communications link within his helmet buzzed and then chimed with Irina's voice.

"I can handle getting onto the planet, that's far from being a problem. My ship is equipped with a few stealth installations, and as you already know my armor is too. I'll be at your side, cloaked in the shadows...Now, as far as the Senators go, let's attempt to catch them during their downtime. Make it seem like a routine murder. We don't want to spook the Republic and wake up to a fleet bombarding our lovely homes, do we?"

He awaited his dark companion's response with a hint of eagerness. To be honest, he hadn't enjoyed himself this much on a mission in so long that he was on the edge of his seat in anticipation of what would come next.
 

Yidhra

Mars Tsosûtiyakûtiyuska
"Well, as long as you can sneak yourself onto Coruscant, you hunk of a man, and we're all set," she laughed softly, settling into her chair more comfortably. "But really," she continued, her voice falling back to seriousness, "how are you going to explain a pair of senators killed in a routine murder? It's not like they ever wander into the crime-ridden depths of the planet; and even if they do, by some weird accident, how are you going to explain the lack of bodyguards?" The Sith shook her head and swung her long legs across the armguards of her cozy seat.

"Look, Mandi," Irina added, glancing through the plastiglass of her pilot-cabin. The twin stars of the system shone brightly, blinding her for a couple of seconds, but the woman simply stared back at the fiery bodies until her eyes adjusted. "Gah, listen," she collected her scattered thoughts and turned her back on the beautiful spacescape. "If we're trying to send a message here, what's the point in making it look like a random burglary? It won't work anyway," she shrugged, digging her sleek fingers in her black dreadlocks. "I still think that me cajoling them into an empty, unguarded room without surveillance is by far our best shot. Unless you think I can't handle it," she finished, her voice lowering to husky undertones. Oh, how she wished she could wink at him, just to wrap up the deal.
 
"N-No, I wasn't implying that you couldn't handle yourself, a-ah, I mean them, I mean...dammit, you know what I mean." The young Mandalorian stumbled over his words, as her tone of voice had absolutely flustered him. In addition, she was right, this part of their directive was about sending a message, not just to the Republic, but the Galaxy as a whole. The Mandalorians were not a force to be trifled with...and neither were the Sith. Isley cleared his throat and silenced the young, inexperienced part of him that was going ga-ga over a very, very pretty woman.

"In all seriousness, you're right. We might as well go in guns blazing. The larger the scene, the bigger the message."

As he spoke, he contemplated what the successful completion of this mission meant. He did not know whether or not the Sith was a Master, or if she had some sort of control in their "goverment", but did this mean that the border conflicts would cease? Would slaying these Senators assure that no more Mandalorian blood is spilled at the hands of the Sith Empire? Could this be the beginning of a working relationship between his people and their most common adversary.

"On a sidenote...Are you a Master among the Sith?"
 

Yidhra

Mars Tsosûtiyakûtiyuska
The sprawled Sith bit back a loud guffaw at the sudden boyishness of the Mandi, at his stuttering, barely understandable sentences and the undoubtedly rosy cheeks hidden under that blackened visor. "Ah, men," she sighed with mirth, not caring whether or not the comlink would pick up her breathy remark. With a flick of her hand, a nail file flew into the firm grasp of her fingers and she got to perfecting her near-claws as if she weren't planning a double murder with a Mandalorian. Ah, these Sith. Despite the fact that she was filing her nails, her ears were still perked and listening intently to everything that came scratching over the comlink.

"Yeah, yeah, big boy, but hold yer horses," she chuckled softly, lifting her fingers up to regard her handiwork in better light. "We want to send a message, not get ourselves executed while trying to flee," she reminded the Mandi before the man got overexcited with the whole idea of a raid of two. Shaking her dreadlocks, the Sith continued: "We want the public to find them before the authorities can, you know, to make sure they don't sweep it under the rug. I propose we drop them from somewhere after they're already dead, maybe leave some evidence as to who might've had their fingers in that particular meaty pie," at that, Irina almost lost it, laughing at her own grotesque joke with joy unbecoming of a lady; but, frankly, she never claimed to be one.

Her chortling was stopped short by the unexpected question that the Mandi hurled at her next, however, and she was suddenly glad they were talking over comling. Not that she was a bad liar –far from it, in fact – but the inquiry had truly caught her unawares; on the other hand, it gave her the perfect opportunity to further lure the gullible man into her gaping jaws. "What do you think?" she challenged, leaning closer to the device. "I'm highly renowned for my prowess among the Sith," she clarified, biting her lip in the process. Really, she wasn't even lying; she just never elaborated just what kind of prowess she was famous for.
 
"Come now! Imagine the glory of it all! Imagine how many poor sods will be cut down by your hand and blown apart by my blaster?!" The Mandalorian inside the young man was truly beginning to leak out at that point, but she was quite right, they didn't need to get gunned down attempting to escape the scene...and they didn't want all that hard work being swept under the rug either. With a small sigh, he relented to her reasoning (again) and folded his arms across his chest.

"We could always string them up somewhere nice and public..." He muttered, pondering a more sensible way of going about this. When Irina responded to his inquiry about her rank, a coy smile formed upon his lips. It was a deflection in his mind. "Well, let's see..." He mused, "Seeing as though you didn't decimate me the moment you saw me in the facility, and you knocked the wind out of yourself trying to avoid my rockets...I'd say, what, maybe an Apprentice or something?"

He desperately wanted her to correct him and scream that she was Dark Lady of the Sith or something. Anything but the lowest of the ranks, for how could he convince his superiors that there'd be peace if it was just an Apprentice...
 

Yidhra

Mars Tsosûtiyakûtiyuska
Another roll of her silver eyes belayed just how much the Mandi on the other ship made her bite at her lips. Really, he was such a stereotype. Arr, glory, arr, power, for my darling Mandalore! another sigh escaped her chest and she waited for the man to snuff his own rant out. Eventually, Isley had to concede to her way of thought; who wouldn't, though? It was perfectly clear that it was the only way things could be done. Wrapping her fingers around the file, she turned to work on her other hand while the man mused for himself.

"That could work," she agreed absently, nodding her head as if the Mandi could see her. "But then we'd have to be real quick and make it a night job. I mean, Coruscant's probably alive even during that time, but at least it's a bit darker," she reasoned and started humming a soft tune under her breath, smiling to no-one in particular.

"Now don't be stupid, Isley," she snorted, inching closer to the comlink. "If I had wanted to, I could've had you at my feet in seconds," she purred, grinning madly. "Had it never occurred to you that I may have lied? That it wasn't my entire purpose here solely to destroy the facility?" with expert words, she planted the beautiful seed of doubt into the young mind of the Mandalorian. Plowing the soil while it was still fresh, Irina continued: "But you see, we Sith aren't exactly famous for our great sincerity," the Epicanthix chuckled, caressing the comlink. "Now you can either choose to continue this as we had intended to, or be a fool and squander the opportunity to join forces with the Sith empire," her voice was low, with a lascivious, hoarse quality to it; really, when one went about offering the forbidden fruit, it had to be done right.
 

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