Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction The New World [TSE]



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Ominov
Grand Palace of King Harcrow
874 ABY

The planet of Ominov, the once shining jewel of House Harcrow - has long since been turned into the cess pit of other nation's machinations. After the Terminus Wars nearly 70 years ago, the planet and her people have been subjected to an assymetrical peace deal that has seen no end. Foreign governments restrict military personel, megacorps from nearby worlds strangle the local economy into nothing more than a consumer state, and corruption runs so rampantly that the planets Syndicates are considered on par with the police. Where once there was pride, now there is a depression - of a once proud warrior nation.​
Today the Grand Palace is full of sycophants and politicians - corpo's from nearby planets looking to make a deal, and local power brokers trying to make a name for themselves. King Viktor Carrol Harcrow, the Second of his Name, has invited many; but even in a place reserved for celebration and friends, he is accosted on all sides by enemies. Those looking to take advantage of his planets position are numerous and those fighting for its revival - heavily outnumbered. The party today is less a celebration, and more a funeral for what was lost as those who murdered it prance about with champagne.​
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Objective 1: Sycophants
The planet has become the target of a new Sith plot - to prop up the downtrodden and militaristic with a new hope. For this plan to succeed we need intelligence and relationships with locals - and the party at the King's behest is the best place to find it. Gathered together is the King's three children, the Megacorps from Terminus and nearby planets, and delegations from those who have helped ensure the peace for 70 years. All of them are enemies and friends alike - but what we must discover is who among them is the best to align ourselves with.​
Join your other Sith in disguise and scope out the crowds. Discuss the finer points of our efforts and make friends with you can. Many on the planet are wary of new comers, as any with influence could be a potential threat in this active warzone of politics - so be certain you do not break cover and reveal yourselves before them. If the Sith Empire is to rise again, we must first begin the foundations with a single stone - and this is that stone.​
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Objective 2: Syndication
Far from the graceful pleasantries of King Harcrow, the bustling world of Ominov moves shackled beneath the weight of foreign oppression. This trade disparity has forced the economy into a slump, and many have turned to crime to feed their families. Others have turned to drugs to simply survive their dwindling mental health - and this has only encouraged larger more dangerous organizations to involve themselves. Only a few short years after the Ominov Peace deals, massive criminal syndicates have formed, some rumored to be supported by those foreign governments.​
If we are to control the planet of Ominov, we must ascertain how far these corrupt roots go. A speeder bar in the lower echelons by name of 'Club 13' is run by the notorious, but minor, gang called Midnight Black. Once more in disguise, we must ascertain just who the Midnight Black organization works for - who their suppliers are, who their enemies and friends are, and how we can take advantage of that. Establishing our own criminal network is paramount, so while there are no restrictions on what you can do - do not reveal your status as a Sith.​
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Objective 3: Shipping
Shipping companies contracted by the Megacorporations on the planet ensure that the almighty cred keeps a tight noose around the planet's economy. For years they have established a fine balance between the local depression and absolute anarchy - always feeding the planet just enough goods to want more, but never enough to recover. Local industry has suffered to a disasterous degree because of this; so we must begin to upset this precarious balance they have created.​
Our ships have been deployed along a convoy route being utilized by a caravan of freighters and a military escort. Soon they will hit our interdiction array and be forced into local space. When this happens, you must kill all witnesses, steal or destroy the cargo - and find any shipping manifests you can. Finding out who their suppliers are on the local planet can allow us the opportunity for more precise strikes; but the chief objective is that there will be no witnesses to what the Asha'Kurat will do.​

 
Plutus Incarnate
Objective 1: Sycophants
Dorian finished shaking hands with the power couple that had chosen to speak to him, and idled past. Before him stood a crowd of the rich and powerful - in this area of space, likely the most powerful people to be seen. He saw the son and heir apparent, Drake Syl Harcrow speaking to his sister Cylene Varon Varskov - but what they were talking about was entirely up to debate. Judging by the frustration on the former's, likely something to do with their father.​
With a smile he passed through the crowds and found the refreshment bar. Another glass of champagne, and orderve or two, and he could safely scope out the crowd from a protected position at the edge. Not too much attention, and a great line of sight to anyone talking - but it would be temporary. For what he needed, he'd need others; so he waited for the Sith to come and speak to him about what was coming.​
Establishing the has been and the has nots.​
 
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TAG: Ivory Stroud Ivory Stroud

Objective 2: Syndication

After a long flight from Tattooine to Ominov, Tywinn stood in front of a Club called 13, finally ready to drink a stiff one, for this trip was about securing funding for his shop back on Tattooine, and to meet his new contact.

Busting through the door, hands up in the air, Tywinn stops just inside the room, and looks around the room as he draws attention for his Mandalorian armor. The crowd has been startled by Tywinns powerful opening, as if a boom had struck the room...

"Who's drinking with me?" exclaimed Tywinn

Already stumbling towards the bar after a long day of travel from Tattooine, Tywinn is wearing his tiredness on his face. Slumping into a bar stool, and waving his hand towards the bartender, Tywinn removes his helmet and exhales. Smithing is a craft of which power, and stamina are required, both of which Tywinn had, but today, today was a day in which he was ready to have a very stiff drink, or nine.


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Objective I - Sycophants

The Lady of Santhe cast a dark shadow.

Heads turned as Sasha Santhe walked through the palace gates, many eyes upon the manufacturing magnate in her minimalistic but highly alluring dress. High heels clicked along the floor as Sasha walked through the party crowd, snatching a fizzy drink from the tray of a passing servant and downing the drink in a single gulp. In her eyes was a smoldering fire, a warning to all that would dare trifle with her. She carried herself high and haughty, a noblewoman of the highest caliber who expected to be waited on; hand and foot.

But beneath the facade of predatory beauty was unfathomable darkness. Lurking behind the veil of Sasha Santhe was the Dark Lord Demiurge, the mirrored counterpart of the Twice-Emperor Darth Carnifex. Through the mysteries of Dathomiri magic, he had assumed the form of the noble Santhe lady with his entire body transmogrifying until it resembled Sasha Santhe perfectly. His voice mimicked her own, his movements choreographed down to the last minute detail to display little other than sheer Santhe arrogance.

When the spectacle of her arrival had died down and she became one among hundreds, Sasha slipped away to the party's periphery. She appeared, seemingly from nowhere, next to the distinguished Veles Oshu Veles Oshu . Another drink in hand, Sasha took up position close to Dorian but not directly next to him, her attention deliberately pointed elsewhere.

"Been a long time, Dorian."

She smiled and subtly turned her head to look at him, a quick flash of yellow reflecting in her eyes.


 

Vladislav Von Kresvelgard

Guest
V




THE NEW WORLD [TSE]
OBJECTIVE ONE [SYCOPHANTS]
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DIRECT TAGS: [Open]
LOCATION: The Grand Palace
RELEVANT LINKS: Vladislav Von Kresvelgard
OUTFIT: Nobleman's Outfit [Margrave George Signus Veuve]

Vladislav Von Kresvelgard would stare at the Grand Palace of King Viktor Carrol Harcrow, as he made his approach. Walking up the steps into the party hall, having decided against coming in his public persona of Count Ivan Valtor due to the natives suspicion of outsiders among their ranks. Changing his entire body shape and form required immense effort so his power would be drained for a considerable amount of time. Having looked through the local nobleman of the king's court, made him assume the form of Margrave George Signus Veuve III to attend the event without being noticed. A immensely obese but powerful corporate baron and known scumbag that had the funds to wave around, having hired a small protective unit of bodyguards. Although vladislav had killed the man and drained him of his blood to fuel his transformation into the individual. Establishing connections with the king's court and acquiring information was paramount to the success of the Sith Empire's Overall Objective. Having recently joined the sith empire in order to establish the Von Kresvelgard name across the galaxy, away from his more known personas of Count Ivan Valtor and the Monster of 8th Street within his war form.

Walking into the room with his fat form adorned with rich silky clothes, his overweight belly jiggled with each step of his short but sturdy legs that supported his immense bulk as he strode into the room to the disgust of many of the guest. Although they wouldn't dare say anything towards him in fear of assassination, for Margrave George Signus Veuve the III would suffer no insults towards him and had connections with the various syndicates on the planets. If he wanted you dead, all he would have to do is jingle his coin pouch in the face of a local enforcer and you would be dead the next morning. Moving his form towards the buffet table of the event, he would pick up a glass of punch. Bringing it to his face that was filled out with a glorious long grey beard and pointed mustache, the margrave would drink as the liquid poured down into his throat. Before he promptly spit it back out on a nearby woman. "Dreadful Punch, a twi'lek dancer would be much more enjoyable than this sorry excuse for a beverage. Servant!" He lifted up his cigar stick within his right hand, filling the room with awful smoke smell that seemed to linger and combine with his natural body odor. Each of his fingers were adorned with a single ring that much have costed a fortune and they shined in the light of the grand palace.


"What is the problem, O'Gracious Margrave" The Servant Woman responded, before being promptly smacked in the face by the margrave with a single strike of his unoccupied hand, as she fell to the floor. "This punch is terrible and not suited to my taste, fetch me another before I complain to the king!" He shouted at the poor woman, who promptly left crying from the strike and the immense pain. It was clear to those around him, that the margrave was a scumbag and that is exactly how vladislav played it due to reading the nobleman's identity and was believable enough to make even the other nobleman within the room believe that it was the actual Margrave George Signus Veuve the III. The Margrave was approached by other nobleman that were his "allies" so to speak, although they disliked the margrave like anyone else in attendance.

"A marvelous display, I do say so. Margrave Veuve III." Baron Terupt would say to him, as another baron would respond quickly after. "Indeed, that foolish woman deserved every bit of the pain you inflicted upon her for the poor beverage. It could have been poisoned." Baron Barboro would say, adjusting his monocle on his face. "You are correct, O'Chaps. It was a necessary display to show my importance to these lowly figures." Vladislav responded within his persona, beginning to speak to them about other matters as they made there way over to a lounge space within the grand palace. He had achieved his objective of making it into the party without being suspicious in the slightest.
 
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Plutus Incarnate
Objective 1: Sycophants

Dorian glanced towards Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex in his disguise and forced himself not to recoil. Not so much for the fact he was now a pretty female - but because the disparaging sensation between who he knew he was and who he was now set alarm bells off in the Banker's head. A frown formed and dissapated quickly before he replied;​
"You haven't aged a day, Sasha.", he said with a slight amusement.​
His gaze, however, fell upon Vladislav Von Kresvelgard in his disguise as an already established nobleman from the courts. A slap to a servant, a good locker room congratulations for the effort, and Dorian smiled - approving of his ability to fit so easily in with the hoity toity and annoying. The fat belly helped make him unassuming - a good effort for any Sith. Dorian, for his part, was only known by the Dark Council for their immediate operations on the planet.​
And the Director of the IGBC was well welcomed in these lands for the business oppurtunities it afforded otherwise local megacorps. One good contact with him and they had a chance to go galactic - so they'd already made the attempt to smooze him. The local teamster offices, arms manufacturers he couldn't care less about, and even the Everest Shipping company - one of the only companies who could give trade import-export liscences to the planet.​
"Have you had any luck making friends?", he said, adjusting to speak with her more openly.​
 
Breaker of Chains
Codex Judge
Objective: Secure the Shipping Manifests, Leave No Witnesses
Location: Ominov Convoy Route
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tags:
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The vast expanse of space always fascinated him. An endless black void, interspersed with stars, planets, rocks and whatever else was floating around to take up space. Now though, his view of it all was obscured by a passing corvette as it flew in front of his shuttle's window. Being in a fleet was not a familiar experience, and boarding action in general was a very foreign concept to the Acolyte. Beats pretending to be a diplomat or a random civilian planetside though. He thought as he checked over his lightsaber and fastened it back to his hip.

He knew little details of the actual plan, just enough to know what to expect and what to look for. Apparently, as their target was passing by in hyperspace they had tech that could pull them out into the open where they were vulnerable and able to be assaulted. First the bigger ships would engage the escort, evidently said escort had been strengthened significantly due to piracy, while they boarded the convoy to find manifests. Oh, and leave no one alive so that it's all blamed on a pirate attack or something like that of course. Simple as that. Personally he didn't think such a thing was possible, but he was given orders to stay on this boarding shuttle until it boarded something. So, he would stay silent as he watched the fleet arrange itself into position.

The fleet wasn't large enough to warrant attention unnecessarily, but it certainly had enough heavier ships to lay down enough firepower to tear the convoy's escort apart. Not to mention the other vessels that would mop up and distract from the boarding action.

He could idly overhear radio chatter from the other occupants in the shuttle, the troopers anyway, about the convoy. Any minute now the interdictor field would trigger and drag their targets out of hyperspace and right into their firing lines. As the masked Sith's gaze ran over the ships, their weapons, fighters, and other boarding craft, he almost pitied what was about to happen to whatever poor convoy that was about to appear before them.

Oh well. He popped his knuckles and checked over the straps keeping him in his seat. He'd be no use in any boarding if he was splattered against the window by the time they made it to their target after all.
 
Objective 3: Shipping

Whilst the Galaxy had ultimately taken Lirka down a different path than the Sith, she knew well that it was much wiser to have them as allies than enemies: friends were few in this galactic landscape, the Underworld Lirka had grown up in had vanished and what remained was a new mess to navigate and establish herself in. But there is one thing Lirka knew for certain, she needed money, and there was no greater way for a warrior to make some coin than plundering it from the weak and helpless.

It just so happened that the Sith furthered that goal this time around, and for that they had the Sephi's thanks. The Sith had crammed themselves into transports and assault ships, truthfully the sight was almost nostalgic for the once-Moff and her days fighting alongside the Sith-Imperials in the olden days, but alas, those days were dead. And the Sith of then were not the same to her cold dead eyes, tools in the end regardless, but tools to a different end. Lirka instead simply hovered in her worn freighter, now better kitted for the "dogfighting" and piracy she had become accustomed to in the void, it was out of place among the sleeker vessels of the empire, the humor of the whole display wasn't lost on Lirka.

The mighty had fallen on hard times, but when the interdictor engaged they would be well reminded the brutality the ex-governor of Moridinae was capable of, but for now, she simply waited for the call.

Tags: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius
 
Objective 3: Shipping - Killing Witnesses, Infomation Retrevial.

Location: VPS Ship

Equipment: Sith Sword

Mood of Ship: --------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is where it started. Actually start this time.. She thought to herself while confined to her ship for the protection of the crew that it was latched to. The view of her ship docked to the hull of one of the Interdictor Class Cruisers just waiting for the signal.

"This is it. The beginning R3." She spoke out to one of the driods operating her ship. She took a deep inhale of air as she remained seated in the middle of the common room on the floor with the soles of her feet pressed firmly together infront of her. Her hands resting ontop of them on the cold floor. The very dark dim red light that illuminated the chamber barely lighting up the interior of the chamber. Rure twitched here and there if there had been any other non-droid crew onboard her vessal right now they be hearing the sounds and voices that escaped her head driving them mad if they weren't discplined or wearing shielded helments from her aura of influences.

"Gather Infomation. That is what the message said and to come here. Here I am. A gurl discarded because they were afraid of what I would become. My destiny. Will it be like olds times or will it be different. I refuse to be locked away again." She said to herself carrying on a full conversation with herself. Her sword resting infront of her with the hilt resting in her lap and the blade pressed into the metal floor plating. Rure took another deep breath as she spoke out a common saying when she was young. "Peace is a Lie, There is only passion. Though Passion I gain strength. Though Strength I gain power. Though Power I gain Victory, Though Victory my chains are broken." She opened her eyes at that moement the sheer orange redish hue of her iris's glowing. "And this galaxy will burn..." She quickly returned to a calm and meditated state awaiting for the signal from ther droid unit which was monitoring communication traffic.
 
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Objective 2: Identify the gang 'Midnight Black'
Location: Club 13
Nearby: Tywinn Zanzi Tywinn Zanzi
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Ivory was one of the patrons to turn her head toward the door at the boisterous Mandalorian who entered. "Just another spacer, looking to drink" was a fine role to play. She was aware of his true nature, but it was unlikely he would be aware of hers. In fact, the list of people who knew she was involved was extremely limited. Just how she preferred it.

She had been at the club,now, for two days - slowly blending with the clientele, posing as a mercenary waiting for a contract. She was dressed in armor of her own - a breastplate, bracers, and durasteel tipped boots which looked like they'd trodden through mud, blood, and ashen remains. At her hip rested a powerful revolver - a Madclaw PX with dual firing modes, capable of putting an 11mm slug through armor plating at a hundred paces, and a short-bladed sword hung from her shoulder in a cross-draw, ready to be drawn and readied with a powerful cut instantly. Her makeup was very different from it's normal appearance: she looked like a woman that would rather wear the blood of a fallen enemy than one that had ever touched a dress in her life. Meaning, she wore none

She had been getting looks from the other patrons; had even broken a bottle over a drunkard's head the night before when he'd grabbed her behind. He'd been carried out by two of the other patrons, and no one had talked to her much since then.

When Tywinn sat down, he happened to do so only one stool away from her.

"Long trip, spacer?" She asked, eyeing him with skepticism and curiousity equally.
 

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Objective 2: Identify the gang "Midnight Black"
Location: Club 13
Nearby:
Ivory Stroud Ivory Stroud



Tywinn whips around, as if pulled by some foreign person. Cloak still floating in the air, as he comes face to face with a Trandoshan, tall as he's ever seen, seven foot tall, and strong as he's ever felt.

"You're finally here Tywinn. Now, we talk business!" says the Trandoshan, putting his arms around a scared Tywinn.

"Yes, yes…" whispers Tywinn, skeptical to say the least, but embracing this man none the less.

"You're here, so we will get you what you need. Did you bring it?" whispers the man into Tywinns ear.

Slapping the data pad into the Trandoshans hand before drinking another swig, Tywinn looks around the bar, and remembers the mercenary who had greeted him. Having finally completed his mission of dropping off the data pad, it was finally time for his mission, sleep!

"My names Tywinn, I'm from Tattooine. What brings you all the way over here?" exhaustedly said to the mercenary.

Being in his normal smithing clothes, just a normal looking human standing there between such a large and intimidating Trandoshan, and a mercenary who looks like they could melt them both in a second. Being a human orphan given to the Mandalorian, he's become very focused and aware of his surroundings and a small sun crest was under the trandoshans breast plate. Odd, but maybe he likes long watches too, Tywinn thinks.


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Objective 2: Identify the gang 'Midnight Black'
Location: Club 13
Nearby: Tywinn Zanzi Tywinn Zanzi
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The sudden approach of the Trandoshan made Ivory's head snap around; watching as the big lizard embraced the Mercenary who'd sat down beside her. An eyebrow cocked upward as she took a sip of her drink...

That's one friendly Trandoshan, she thought to herself. The two shared a brief whispered conversation before Tywinn Zanzi Tywinn Zanzi handed his "friend" a datapad.

The entire affair, done so openly in the middle of a den of thieves, was already eliciting stares and a few whispered words from the assorted dangerous-looking characters in the bar. Ivory let out a sigh. If they weren't supposed to be here together, at the direction of Darth Ophidia Darth Ophidia , she would have left the man to hang himself. Ah well.

When Tywinn introduced himself, Ivory faced him fully - violet eyes boring into his own. "Gwen", she said, making up a fake name on the spot. The last thing she needed was anyone connecting her to The Family in this place.

"Take a seat, Tywinn. Your drinks are on me." She waved over the bartender, a Duros with missing fingers on his right appendage, and ordered both her and Tywinn another round.

"I'm here on business... Looking to pick up a contract or two, make some credits before jetting off to parts unknown. What're you here for?"

If he wasn't here to do the job, she guessed she'd be getting the Intel herself.
 
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Objective 2: Identify the gang "Midnight Black"
Location: Club 13
Nearby: Ivory Stroud Ivory Stroud


Tywinn whips around, as if pulled by some foreign person. Cloak still floating in the air, as he comes face to face with a Trandoshan, tall as he's ever seen, seven foot tall, and strong as he's ever felt.

"You're finally here Tywinn. Now, we talk business!" says the Trandoshan, putting his arms around a scared Tywinn.

"Yes, yes…" whispers Tywinn, skeptical to say the least, but embracing this man none the less.

"You're here, so we will get you what you need. Did you bring it?" whispers the man into Tywinns ear.

Slapping the data pad into the Trandoshans hand before drinking another swig, Tywinn looks around the bar, and remembers the mercenary who had greeted him. Having finally completed his mission of dropping off the data pad, it was finally time for his mission, sleep!

"My names Tywinn, I'm from Tattooine. What brings you all the way over here?" exhaustedly said to the mercenary.

Being in his normal smithing clothes, just a normal looking human standing there between such a large and intimidating Trandoshan, and a mercenary who looks like they could melt them both in a second. Being a human orphan given to the Mandalorian, he's become very focused and aware of his surroundings and a small sun crest was under the trandoshans breast plate. Odd, but maybe he likes long watches too, Tywinn thinks.


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Sisserith

Guest
S
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Location: Boarding Shuttle - Ominov Convoy Route
Objective: III - Shipping │ Kill, Maim, Burn!
Tags: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius Lirka Ka Lirka Ka Rure Vukot Rure Vukot │ Open


“Well, well, well, well, well! Don’t you look familiar!”

A mischievous, girlish voice cut through the foreboding mood inside the shuttle as those inside waited for the interdictor field to trigger and their target to be pulled out of hyperspace for the upcoming massacre. The diminutive Sithspawn seemed to have emerged from nowhere, making a showy entrance as she twirled and spun around the masked Apprentice, before performing an elegant pirouette as she made her way to the seat next to Alisteri.

“I think I’ll just sit…right next to you!” She said, making a show of contemplation before jumping up into the seat with an uncanny athleticism and strapping herself in. “Safety first!” The tiny Seseli added with a giggle. “Guess we’re on the same team now, hmm?” Azera offered, raising her hand out for a high five.

Whether he accepted it or not, Azera shimmied in her seat, a deep, impatient breath escaping from her lips as she did. Idly tossing one of her thermal detonators in the air as she waited, the Seseli took in the other occupants of the shuttle, a few Sith and non-Force-sensitive soldiers, before making a show of yawning. While she was still uneasy with traveling in a nigh-claustrophobic metal box and trusting her life to an unknown pilot who was charged with taking her to a given destination, such advanced technology was becoming less jarring for her, though there were yet still things she had yet to witness.

Fortunately, there were plenty more wonders that she was comfortable with and in fact, was almost addicted to.

Cracking open a can of Cozmic Crash Vanilla, Azera gulped down the entirety of the sugar-laden beverage in less than five seconds, her eyes widening with sudden focus and excitement as she finished it off.

Now, she was ready.


 
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Objective 2: Identify the gang 'Midnight Black'
Location: Club 13
Nearby: Tywinn Zanzi Tywinn Zanzi
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The bartender had brought their drinks, set them down, then started cleaning a glass when Tywinn asked a question about work. He smirked, showing off old, rotten teeth, then stuck his tongue out - or what would have been a tongue if he'd had one. Ivory recoiled slightly before the man chuckled under his breath and moved away from them. Because she was paying attention, she noticed the briefest glance between the bartender and someone else behind them.

The kind of glance that was a message.

Ivory picked up her drink and downed it in one gulp, figuring she wouldn't have another chance.

"So... You're wanting to work?" A voice spoke up behind Ivory and Tywinn. The woman swiveled in her seat at the bar, regarding a tall, scrawny, bald-headed man in a black leather vest and bare chest. A number of tattoos covered his arms and torso; all of them of poor quality. Except for a black circle in the center of his chest about the size of a fist. The color had been laid too heavy, and the flesh was scarred beneath. It looked less like a decoration and more like an initiation.

The woman who'd introduced herself as "Gwen" nodded for both her and Tywinn. "Yeah. You got something?" She seemed at rest, but every muscle was primed for instant movement. There was a tension to the man who'd approached them she didn't like.

"Follow me." Was all he said, then turned without another word and began walking toward the same door in the back, guarded by the two lizard-like Basilisks. Ivory glanced at Tywinn, catching his eye... Then stood up, leaving her glass on the bar top, and followed after.

She hoped Tywinn would join her. This was either a trap, or their one ticket in.
 
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Objective 2: Identify the gang "Midnight Black"
Location: Club 13
Nearby: Ivory Stroud Ivory Stroud

Burning on the way down, the drink was giving Tywinn the liquid courage he so desired. His first mission since leaving his smithing Master on Mandalore to start his own journey throughout the galaxy.

Nodding quickly, and standing up before shaking his head around "Yes, I'm ready, lets do it!"

The two guards even stood eye to eye with Tywinn, but after the long trip, he was ready for anything. Mandalore had taught him to always be ready and aside from the few drinks, he was ready to take on the world. Ominov did have some good data to absorb on his way in, and the trip had given him the chance to learn about this world. Corruption, death, slavery, lies, all ways that the people of Ominov operated.

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Objective 2: Identify the gang 'Midnight Black'
Location: Club 13
Alongside Tywinn Zanzi Tywinn Zanzi
Into the belly of the beast...
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The tall, bald-headed man led them into the dark underbelly of Club 13. The music faded as they stepped through the portal. Neither Basilisk guard paid them any mind.

The smell that greeted them instantly made her nose wrinkle. The smell of sweat, spilled booze, and a noxious chemical smell struck her in the face like a brick. Cat-footed, the woman had taken point, keeping Tywinn close behind her as she stayed close behind their guide.

The walls were covered in graffiti of every type and appearance; words scrawled in black, strange symbols which Ivory couldn't identify, murals depicting demonic faces, and chaotic splashes of multi-colored paint. She also recognized the same black circle, and saw a word scrawled beneath one of them: "Midnight". Multi-colored lights cast an odd glow over the walls and floor.

Echoing off the corridor walls were ghostly sounds from elsewhere in the building.. music with a heavy thudding bass, voices talking in unison, and the laugh of a woman - sharp, harsh, then cut off as-if instantly silenced. They passed a number of rooms; most of them occupied by revelers. Many of them wore similar clothing. With an inside chuckle, Ivory realized she probably would have fit in fine dressed as she typically did... But The Sith requested a disguise.

The sounds of conversation grew louder, until "Gwen" and Tywinn found themselves stepping through a doorway into a larger room. This area was larger than the first bar room; likely the VIP lounge. In the center of the room, a large bar was set up bathed in blue light and the room was heavily occupied. The music was louder here, and Ivory felt her heartbeat thudding in time to the beat.

She noticed at one table, to her right near the wall, a group of people were playing Roulette. With a blaster. It didn't look like anyone had lost yet. A pile of credits sat in the center, with the remainder of the space taken up by half-full bottles of liquor, spilled cups, and an ashtray full of cigara butts. In the dim light, she thought she recognized a discarded stim canister - likely an aerosol drug of some kind.

She realized, at that moment, that these people were not her kind of people after all.

The tall, bald-headed man stopped and turned toward them with a devilish grin, shooting a thumb toward the bar.

"Sit."

It was not a request.

Steeling herself for whatever was to come, the raven-haired woman walked toward the bar. She had a bad feeling about this.
 


Sasha flashed Dorian an even bigger grin, something predatory and unnatural. It faded as quickly as his own grimace did, replaced by a more demure smirk. Every aspect of Sasha Santhe was designed to allure and entice, from the deep plunging neckline that went far below her clavicle and terminated right above her navel, to the swell of her posterior in the time slim-fitting black dress, and the shapely contours of both legs as they stood bare between the separated silk fabric dress.

"Friends come naturally, dear Mr. Harper." Her voice was silky and sibilant, the succulent whispery cadence accompanied by the sensation of each syllable crawling into Dorian's ears. "Several overtures have been made, ones I intend to make good on. In fact..." Her eyes swam over to an approaching noble, athletic and handsome, who slipped his hand into Sasha's outstretched palm and gently led the young madame away and out of sight from the rest of the mingling guests.

They disappeared into one of the many adjacent chambers running parallel to the main reception hall, darkness enveloping them as overeager hands sought to receive their prize. Lady Santhe indulged his hunger for a brief moment, delicate fingers reaching up to caress his slim jawline as a spindly spider-like creature emerged from underneath the tight black fabric around her wrist. The noble had little time to realize what was happening before the creature scrambled up inside his nostril and chewed its way through the sinus wall and into his brain.

This all took place within the span of a few breaths, the noble spasming without falling as the creature performed its singular function. When that time had passed the noble stood deathly still, eyes rolled back into his head. A moment later he blinked and his eyes returned to normal. Then he was as he was before, although no longer interested in carnality. Instead, he sauntered off back into the party.

Sasha emerged a few moments later behind Dorian, slender hands reaching up to massage both of his shoulders.

"See what I mean?"



 

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Objective 2: Identify the gang "Midnight Black"
Location: Club 13
Nearby: Ivory Stroud Ivory Stroud



"Well that was quick," thought Tywinn as he adjusted himself to sit on the cold chairs, stained with something sticky and musky.

The raven haired woman hadn't said a whole lot but to Tywinn, she didn't need too. Her mere presence commanded a room of grizzled, bone chewing men. They seemed to be puddles in the room with her, so he knew she was the boss.

Neon lights were always the calling card of such dangerous establishments, a lesson taught to him at the Children of the Watch meetings. While essential to the smithing trade, Tywinn had resisted the pull of smuggling and the "dark side," as people called it.

Identifying the leader of an organization was the quickest way to get information. New to Ominov, the prospect of his first job made his worries almost melt away, aside from what he was taught;

"Chaos is a ladder."


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Objective I

"Subtle," a voice would whisper into the ear of "Sasha Santhe." A young unremarkable Nagai noblewoman from Saijo stood behind Sasha and Dorian, a flute of water in her slender and pale hand. The only physical trait that spoke of who she was were the vibrant purple eyes that glittered in undisguised amusement.

Ostensibly, she was there to forge a presence for her employer, Spaarti Creations, on the planet and in the nearby systems. The offer to the King was pharmaceutical in nature, but the two before her would know that she rarely only had one stated intention in what a company facility might be working on, Dorian more than most now. The proposal was also being used to attract interest from nobles who might want the facility, or facilities, in their own domains on the world or possibly even a bid for another world in the sector.

"How long did it take you to get it right, hmm?" she continued, a thin black eyebrow rising.

Veles Oshu Veles Oshu Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex
 

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