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Law and Order [Republic Remnant Dominion of the Nar Haaska Hex]

- - - - - Republic Hutts

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Iona Immarya

Iona Immarya

    That One Padawan

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Location || Ziugen - Waiting Room




Iona stumbled as she stepped wrong, once again, the heel of, what they called her shoe, went left and her ankle went right. She was barely able to recover by latching onto a wall before her angle twisted too far. "Who makes these things!?" Iona wailed to the empty pristine corridor. These shoes were a nightmare. A living nightmare. She knew what they were, of course, heels, not just any heels, but high stilettos, her ankles were six inches above the ground here petite feet wrapped in a crisscross of black leather to keep them secured, hideously huge gemstones running along each strap, a shoe so hideous that it reeked of overcompensating indulgence. As she leaned against the wall, for the seventh time since walking down the hallway, Iona looked around the large white marble hall, there were no guards, but they didn't need any, she had spotted seven holorecorders so far, three that were made obvious so whatever slave going through would know they were being watched and four they didn't want people to know were there. 'How!? How do people walk in these things!?' Iona wanted to scream with frustration as she had nearly twisted her ankle so many times she was terrified of letting go of the wall. 


Iona could run full sprint on a wet pipe only four inches across and not sway. She can sit steadily upon a floating rock and not tremble. Her sense of balance was impeccable even before she was a Jedi, but these things were monstrous. She could remember watching her 'betters' back on Coruscant back when she would sneak up to pickpocket, steal ration bars which, while bland and with an almost, and thankfully, indecipherable taste were far better then what she normally could get, or when some of them would come down to the lower-city on some charity event to make themselves feel better, how they stood in these monsters, these shoes that made them look so regale, so potent, so beautiful... Walking so far above the dirt that she lived in as if they lived on another galaxy. Iona had always dreamed of being like them, even if only for a moment, being beautiful and never having to worry about the next meal or what corner to avoid if they didn't want a blade in their back, and now, now she would rather walk barefoot then on these things


Perhaps it was the tight, confining shimmering emerald dress that clung far too closely to her curves and made her feel like she was being smothered, or it could have been the cosmetics they had applied to her face, it felt like she was wearing a mask, a mask that she couldn't take off and that was 'part' of her yet wasn't, or, it was her hair which constantly irked her now that it wasn't in her lovely ponytail kept far away from her face. Now it fell in waves around her shoulders, clipped to fix her frayed, burnt ends that came from cutting it with her lightsaber, meticulously prepared so that, instead of her normal straight hair, it now had gentle curls that gave it depth, Iona had not recognized herself in the mirror when Nancy had shown her. The face looking back at her was that of the women who she used to hate and envy in equal measure. The face of a woman who would sell for a hefty credit value, but put enough makeup on anything and they can pass as beautiful, or, well, Iona was fairly confident that was how it worked, why else have it if it didn't?


Iona pushed off against the wall and took a few, small tentative steps down the hall, her hands held out to her sides acting as counter balances as she did her best not to stumble as she kept going down the hall, but one thought had stayed with her the entire time, where were the other slaves? Why was she the only one here?




Iona collasped into the soft chair in what, she can only assume, was a waiting room. At least she had discovered the answer to her question as three other women were also in the room with her. Each one wearing beautiful clothing, each one beautiful, although they weren't all the same. A young twi'lek say huddled in a corner chair, her makeup running from her tears, when Iona had asked what was wrong, the oldest of their group, a beautiful mature Zeltron woman had said a certain Hutt with a peculiar taste had taken an interest in her bidding. From the sound of it, Iona could hazard what those taste were, some of her friends, in the past, who grew desperate for food would do... jobs for money and sometimes they would come back beaten or cut up... sometimes they never came back. For the girl's sake, Iona hoped the cavalry was coming in because she didn't want to see that again. 


"I hate the waiting," the mature Zeltron, Larrise said, her husky voice well used to sending chills down the spines of the opposite, and likely, same sex. The Zeltron made a show of examining her nails as if bored with teh entire thing, "I suppose they need to keep the boys waiting, last time I sold for a nice mill," she said, her voice purred with satisfaction.


"You like this?" Iona asked in disbelief


Larrise made a show of looking Iona offer before sniffing as if she didn't find her worthy of the attention, "Of course, the trick is just finding the right buyer. They think they are here to pick, but they aren't, if you're clever, you can pick your," she paused before stressing the word as if a bashful teenagers admitting her first love, "master."


Larrise let out a pearl of laughter, "Its not different then being 'free', find the right man, get a nice place to live, get pampered by those not smart enough to figure out the game and when you get bored of him, throw up a fuss until you get put back into the store to look for the next adorable little puppy. If you're really lucky, you sometimes get ones that can backup all their bravado. Then, you get one of these lovely little things," she said and caressed the collar around her neck, unlike theirs which were bulky and gray, hers was paper thin and was forged of a beautiful silvery metal. Iona blinked when she realized it wasn't a shock collar. It was jewelry, nothing more then a stylish symbol of ownership. The woman had no reason to be kept there.


Iona starred at the woman for awhile, at first, she didn't believe what she was hearing and then... and then she understood. People did what they needed to to survive, some people tried to blend in, others trying to control the situation.. others made them think they were okay with it, that as long as they didn't let it get to them they weren't really bad off, that, in truth, they had somehow managed to cheat the system and weren't the ones at a disadvantage. She had lived with those kinds of people her entire life, girls who would come back and stay in the hole in the wall she called home for a place to sleep covered in bruises but with their chins held high, looking down at her for the squaler she lived in while they made do things they weren't proud of, at least they didn't live like she did. It made them feel better, to see someone living differently and believe themselves to be better, to validate their decisions to themselves so they could live with the decisions they were making. 


"I'm sorry," Iona said and she meant it, "For what they did to you. It won't last, you'll be free."


Larrise shot her a venomous look, "Free to what? Starve? Do you hate me?" she asked and giggled at Iona as if speaking to a child, "Because I know how to survive in this world? To thrive? You think you are special? Toothpick of a girl like you, I see pieces of meat like you come through here all the time, believing the universe is anything more then something that will chew you up and spit you back out just to do it all again because it loves the taste, the screams of your pain as you beg them to please stop, to just stop hitting you."


"They will stop," Iona said, "Very soon."


 "I can't wait," Larrise said her voice filled with venom, "Not for your delusions to come true, no, I can't wait for the next month, or two, maybe even six months, when your buyer brings you back after breaking you, breaking that innocent little spirit of yours. I'm going to be watching your auction, sitting in a bed being massaged and drinking the finest of blossom wines as you are a broken wreck sold for half the price you were just a month ago."


Iona gave the woman a large smile, "We'll see."

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    Roger Roger

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Operation: Chainbreaker

Objective Two: Create a Slave Revolt

Location: Ziugen - Spaceport




Two positive things had occured in the last few hours for BD. First and foremost, the mission briefing in all its detailed glory had finally completed downloading to his memory banks for one. This gave the droid the advantage of actually knowing what the primary and secondary objectives were, a listing of the friendly Republic forces on the ground who had gone into deep infiltration within the slave pens, as well as a neat and tidy timetable for all of this to occur in.


The second positive thing that happened was acquiring a means of delivering the garrison load of weaponry onboard the Jedi’s starship, which according to the briefing, was named ‘The Watchman’. There was a side note inserted next to the ships name, listing concerns about the reliability of the ship, the term ‘hunk of junk’ having been used. Even BD had a soft circuit for machinery that wasn’t given the proper maintenance. Speaking of the means of delivering the weapons with subtlety. An unattended cargo speeder, which were commonplace around the docks for transporting the ‘merchandise’, merchandise in this case being the slaves themselves, had been ‘impounded in the name of the Republic’. At least that is what the reason given would be if BD had been stopped and questioned. That was the thing. Most simply overlooked a Droid. Even as it climbed aboard the vehicle, started it up, rear ended a speeder that was parked ‘too close’ behind it, and took off at a pace that aimed to result in the lowest probability of suspicion.


There was a new obstacle arisen now, even after BD had successfully navigated to The Watchman. Finding it had not been difficult, based off the profile of the ships description and notes of the disrepair the ship was likely in. Upon arrival, it appeared the task of offloading the weapons had fallen to the Droid. What kind of galaxy was this where such manual labor was left to the Droids?


After what BD’s internal timekeeper clocked in at exactly three hundred and ninety four minutes having passed since the beginning of this task, the objective was completed. Stashed inside the speeder’s cargo hold were the crates of weaponry. More than enough to arm a resistance movement to overthrow the Hutt Cartel. Now the only trouble was ensuring that these weapons would be delivered to the right place, at the exact right time, without any Hutt getting wise to the ruse that was being played upon them.


“BD-57 checking in....again. Your weapons are en-route, Jedi- *screech*”


It was true that using a commlink while piloting a speeder was dangerous after all. BD believed the speeder’s controls had been set to forward acceleration. In truth they had still been in reverse. This led to the screech of the speeder’s rear plating scraping across the hull of The Watchman. That certainly left a mark on the speeder.


"Uhh Ohh."


Belizarius Krusi Thaaros Klopp Iona Immarya




Kian Karr

Kian Karr

    Kel Dorable

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Primary Objective: Seize control of the planet from the Hutts

Secondary Objective: Capture the Hutts in charge

Tertiary Objective: Shadow business....move along!

Quaternary Objective: Sober Alexandra up


In Kian's time as a Jedi Shadow he had spent a great deal of time in some very unsavory places but there was something uniquely vile about the feel of a Hutt controlled world. Kian could not quite put his finger on it. It was a sense in the force, a feeling of.....oppression......a feeling of....fear. It was an unsettling feeling but one that Kian had experienced from time to time when he had ventured to worlds such as this. 


Kian's hand drifted down to his waist brushing against the dark hilt of his lightsaber and stepped further back into the shadows. Looking around, Kian was certain he still hadn't been seen. He'd arrived in a transport several hours previously and had set out to do some leg work on ways into the palace. Kian had no contacts on the planet, but it was amazing how much one could learn simply by listening to what people say in passing or in hushed conversations when they thought others are not listening. 


Kian had been making his way closer and closer to the palace while collecting information when he'd suddenly felt a familiar presence. The force signature was strong and, while Kian was certain he'd known them, he was not familiar enough with the aura to pinpoint just who it was. 


"Everything alright Master?" Gnost asked in his ear. Kian turned his attention across the street to where his young apprentice was kneeling in an alley, dressed in street clothes. The two had been working more and more together and the younger Jedi was beginning to be adept at reading his uncle's force signature. Their natural abilities of telepathy also aided in this process. 


"I think so." Kian said pulling further back into the alley. "Make your way back to the ship. I want you there to provide information and an escape should we need it." Kian said and began to make his way toward the force signature.


When the presence lead Kian to a cantina he began to have a sinking feeling who it might be....



Alexandra FeanorSav Elko

Edited by Kian Karr, 15 February 2018 - 07:20 PM.





Belizarius Krusi

Belizarius Krusi

    Jedi Scholar

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Location: Onboard The Watchman, orbiting Ziugen
Objective Two: Create a slave revolt on Ziugen



Growing up on Taris Belizarius was used to poverty but not quite debauchery like here. As he entered the slave markets he came across all sorts from Twileks with slave collars whose clothing look like they were desperately trying to hide bruises and sores. Obviously whoever was buying these slaves weren't exactly into treating the nicely. These are the sort of people you'd often find in the refugee camps trying desperately to usually make the best of a bad situation. The amount of people here were ind boggling but reality is.... it wasn't called a slave market for no reason.

This made him feel extremely uncomfortable but he had to remain focused on his mission at hand, the markets had terminals everywhere which appeared to be used to do things like transfer funds and make transactions for some low-value slaves who probably weren't worth the floor. He walked over to one and started playing around with it. Nothing too serious he was just trying to find something similar to a security center or armory which he could then get into and do a bit of sabotage. It was at this time that he got the message from @BD-57 "Thanks, I am currently trying to infiltrate security at this local slave market. We need enough time for the slaves to get these guns plus we need to be able to source more weapons. 1000 guns might start a revolution but won't end it"

It was at this stage that he sliced into the terminal and found a map, now to see what he could find in order to save these people.

Growing up rich on a planet filled with poverty was scaring on the Jedi when he was younger, families living in shipping containers if they were lucky but sometimes even living in ruins of buildings. Olaris was a pretty well rebuilt sector but plenty of sector up to 70% of the population were living in buildings which had bad water and often little access to enough food. The government barely exists on Taris and has done little to really try to make the lives of these people better. The Merchants still dictated for the most part who ruled over the Sectors. He remembered once when he was 4 coming across a dead family while he was exploring just outside Olaris. 

Rakghoul's were pretty rare on Taris but a few still survive and every now again might even kill a Tarisian or two. That sort of desperation was here also and far worse. He couldn't let these people down... most deserved far better than this.

Iona Immarya Thaaros Klopp

There is no ignorance, there is only knowledge


imp1g0.pnge9isxy.jpg 21m7ogo.jpg


Sav Elko

Sav Elko

    Bacta Princess

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Objective 1


So the team was going to get moving. The trick being that Savannah was here to help assist the Republic, the team who had been helping save the Alliance’s collective rear for the past few months. It was time to return the favor and set up some assistance on a few new planets. Her team had been briefed remotely, but now was the time to get things moving. Several Jedi had been dispatched and she was given their frequencies from her Master. It was time to get to work.


Kian Karr was Jedi Master that Coren assumed would be around. She was to contact him with any form of information. But her team was moving, a bit dispersed yet together, through the town. Keeping an eye on roadways and where talk was of anything relating to the Hutts and their crime.


That lead her straight to a cantina. That was apparently where she was needed. Shaking her head, she looked at her team. “Keep an eye on this place. Need two of you inside with me.” She didn’t have a lightsaber, but Force if she couldn’t imbue herself a weapon that was just as nasty.


Almost grinning, she pulled the cloak over her armor tighter and made her way inside.


Alexandra Feanor

Joshua Tucker

Joshua Tucker

    Admiral of the Remnant 91st Expeditionary Fleet

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Location: Bridge of the RNV Iviin'yc

Objective 1: Launch Reinforcement Gunships




Tucker had heard the entirety of the communication from Awuad. Tucker left the comm frequency open so the man could hear him as he gave his next orders, "Comm, order the fleet to stand down and order the ships to disperse and assume their blockade postings. Hold the Agincourt's gunships so we can relay that transmission to Vaun before he deploys."


"Aye, sir. Relaying orders now."


There was a slight catch if Awuad's info was correct - Vaun wasn't a Jedi Knight. There was no way that slight detail would stop the man from accessing the transmission though, that Mandalorian was as stubborn as a wild shaak. With the fleet given its orders, Joshua turned his full attention to his response to Awuad, "Negative. I will be remaining on the Iviin'yc to coordinate the blockade, I'm far too out of practice to be confronting criminals face to face. Besides, I'm sure Vaun will be more than capable of covering my absence in that regard."


Tucker sighed, thinking back to a time when his bones weren't so brittle and his frame wasn't so fragile, "I will make sure that the Jedi transmission is relayed to him though. Depending on the contents of the transmission, I should be able to persuade Vaun to link up with you." 


Jaster of Clan Awaud

Edited by Joshua Tucker, Yesterday, 10:48 PM.


Thaaros Klopp

Thaaros Klopp
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Location: Ziugen, Slave Market

Objective 2




The alarm had signalled that Thaaros and his group of fellow slaves were to be prepared for sale. They were first moved into what felt like an even smaller holding pen but it was not actually any smaller, it was just filled with more people. Thaaros’s group had been mixed with a dozen or so others, this other group was made up of fitter individuals that would be more suited to manual labour. It was apparently an attempt to make the group look like a worthwhile investment, like giving a lick of paint to an old ship in an attempt to cover up all the rust. Thaaros did not think that it would work.


The door to the Pen hissed open and in walked the Twi’lek that Thaaros had been captured by, that now felt like it was an eternity ago. The Slaver was flanked by two guards holding what appeared to be whips, they pushed the nearest slaves to the ground as they walked in and viciously kicked them just for good measure. A few others tried to move and help their fallen comrades but they quickly backed off as the Twi’lek waved a small device at them. It was the control to their shock collars.


“You filth are the lowest of the low. You’re worthless.” The Twi’lek laughed mockingly at all of those at his mercy.


“Then just let us go… please you said we aren’t worth anything. Please I am beg…” One of the slaves threw himself onto his knees and begged. It was no use, the Twi’lek just looked down in contempt and pressed the device in his hand. It sent a pulse of electricity through the slave collar that made the man howl in agony.


“Don’t you misunderstand me, everyone has their price. Even you scum will bring in something. Just stay quiet and try not to look so pathetic.” He turned and began to walk out, as he did so he shocked the same man again.


As the door to Pen hissed closed Thaaros walked over to the man who was still writhing around on the floor. He helped him to his feet and supported him for a few moments. As the man regained some of his strength he nodded thankfully at Thaaros and moved back to where he had previously been standing. Looking around, Thaaros could see nothing but terror in the eyes of his fellow slaves. There were at least fifty people now crammed into the Holding Pen waiting to be sold.


‘How much are we all worth?’ Thaaros wondered momentarily before rebuking himself for even thinking about the monetary cost of living beings. He had lived under one tyrannical regime and was not going to entertain the idea of living under another.  


“Is he alright?” It was Ryn, the young Rodian boy who had barely left Thaaros’s side in the last few hours.


“He will be.” Said Thaaros defiantly, “Soon this will all be just a distant memory, like a bad dream.” He patted Ryn on the shoulder.


A few of those around the pair seemed to scoff at the idea that there was any hope for the group, so many of them had already resigned their selves to this nightmare. Thaaros could not decide whether he should reveal that there was hope for them all, he knew that the Republic would be beginning their liberation of Ziugen any moment now. However, he also feared that they would come too late, he did not want to raise any hopes just to have them dashed yet again.


“There are those in this Galaxy that care about the likes of us. That will come and help us. We just have to make sure we are ready when they get here.” Thaaros spoke loudly, making sure everybody heard him.


“You can tell the boy all the fairy-tales you like but don’t try and kid us.” One of the group spoke up and almost looked like he was going to laugh.


“There is still hope. There is always hope. Even if there isn’t anyone coming, they’re scarred of us.” Thaaros pointed towards the pen door, “Why do you think they keep us in these collars? Why do you think they carry those whips and blasters? They know that we outnumber them ten to one. . .”


“Will you shut up! You’ll get us all killed!” The man was now shaking Thaaros in a mixture of anger and panic.


Pushing the man back Thaaros looked around him and could see all those around him shifting uncomfortably, a few mumbled conversations breaking out amongst them. Perhaps this was how rebellions began, with the oppressed hopefully murmuring in some dark corner and beginning to believe that their fates had not already been decided.  


 Belizarius Krusi BD-57 Iona Immarya

Edited by Thaaros Klopp, Today, 02:51 PM.