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Ain't No Rest For The Wicked [Levantine Sanctum Dominion of Iferetes]

Hira Mitsae

Ain't No Rest For The Wicked
Etti IV
Corporate Sector
Outer Rim Territories

A harsh cold breeze flowed through the starport of Etti IV, it chilled you to the bone and made you ask what you were doing here for the first place. As remarked upon in many places, Etti wasn’t a homely world. It didn’t fill you with nostalgia or made you feel welcome by just stepping from your ship onto its soil. It was a world founded upon the hard demeaning labor of the unfortunate and the hapless, no fortunes were made here by an honest day work. Corruption lay festered in the deepest of its core and would stay that way, even with the Levantines’ protective wing firmly held above Etti’s metaphorical head.

It was on this world that Adrian Cassidy found himself again, many times had he visited it and every time he was hit by the mutual feeling of anxiety and a silent lingering touch of anticipation. One for the corruption which could land him in prison just by looking sideways at a wrong official, and the other for the sheer awareness that spread through his body while walking through the city capital of Etti. Nar Shaddaa, Coruscant and all the other filthy, vice-infested places of the Galaxy.. they all made him feel alive.

The sound of his footsteps bounced back and forth against the durasteel barrier which kept them alive in the lifeless void outside the planet’s atmosphere. With him walked [member="Tobias Ross"], he had met him after the disastrous Pazaak Tournament on Nar Shaddaa, much money had been made then. But the firefight which had broken down after.. it hadn’t been Adrian’s first choice of having fun.

“Let’s visit this bar first, it’s just outside the confines of the starport. Not too classy, so the drinks are affordable. But not too sleazy, so the girls are probably healthy. Oh, don’t give me that look, I will buy the first round, lecher.”

If only Adrian knew what today would bring to him and to Ross. Perhaps he would have turned around and walked right back into his ship, which he lovingly called the Callyhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/29534-calrissian-class-freighter/. Perhaps he would have picked a different bar, to celebrate another day of living. But alas, we shall never know this for sure.

And so the adventure begins, not with an heroic band. But with a gang of misfits and miscreants, who just wanted to have some cheap drinks and even cheaper women. Funny, how these things go.

[member="Seydon of Arda"] [member="Rosa Gunn"] [member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Judah Dashiell"] [member="Ilias Nyatru"] [member="Romeo Sin"] [member="Turin Val Kur"] [member="Sammo Hache-Khe"] [member="Nohemi"] [member="Coryth Elaris"] [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] [member="Valeria Aetani"] [member="Hayato"] [member="Jaxton Ravos"]
 
ELSEWHERE

Multiple drips hit deck plating like an asymmetric cadence. For the first hours they'd driven him crazy. Now he used them to time out his tossing and catching of a battered baseball, his meditation aid for many, many years. An emergency light bathed the room in a second layer of blood through the cracks around the warped door.

The grease pencil was more for salvage ops than anything; he always kept it tucked inside his terentatek-leather gunbelt, generally forgotten in a fight. He'd worn it down to a nub -- branching lines and intersections covered a wall, false starts rubbed out. The baseball was his weapon in the fight for clarity.

Immune to this strain he might be, but the fever suggested otherwise. He blinked at the wrong moment, and with one mangled arm he put a heavy smudge through the endpoint. He hissed out a laugh, coughed, penciled the word in again with deliberate care and block capitals.

IFERETES
 

Rosa Gunn

Guest
R
Rosa's footsteps echoed off the corvette's corridors as she made her way to the bridge, smiling to those she passed a datapad clutched in her hand. So Etti IV had given them there first problem to deal with. Something or someone was terrorising nearby space lanes, there request was simple. Find out what it was and reprimand it. So far interrogations on the surface had brought up nothing short of ghost stories, faery tales. So Rosa had dug down other routes, collecting a list of ships known to have vanished.

"Master Gunn." The captain greeted her with a small incline of his head. She smiled in response and moved to the communications array, connecting the datapad to it and opening a channel to the other scout ships that had gathered for the hunting trip. "Alright guys, this is all I could find." she began transmitting the data "Its a list of ships that have gone missing, their signatures and known alias's. Some of them made transmissions before their disappearances, the origins of the transmissions puts them..."

She tailed off as a map flickered to life on her screen the locations appearing as small blue dots there was no real correlation between there location save they were between Etti IV and Iferetes. "...all over the damn place." she pursed her lips in thought "Wait, isn't there a hyperspace lane along there?" Where was Jorus when you needed him.
 
~Etti V~
~Outside End's Port~
~The Gala Counter~

Deftly, a short waitress bunched into a too-tight bodysleeve and iridescent, fluted skirt, all meant to catch perusing glances and afford her added bonuses to her daily tip stippends, danced out of the reach of a half-gone spacer trying to pinch her backside. She turned and offered a sneer, balancing nine brandy glasses on her stained aluminum tray. Two went to Table 6 with the Bulk Loader personnel slowly dressing out of their coveralls, four for office-drones at Table Ten wading through vicious diatribes describing wage-garnishing under their newly hired supervision at Plexgrove Combine, then Table 7 seating a pair of freighter navigators nursing sleepless, dark complexions.

She swung by Table 13 at the back, nestled into a dimly illuminated corner just opposite a small under-lit dance floor, where bodies swung in tempo to Basstack music that was equally orgiastic as it was elegaic. Vessel traffic shook the establishment. Hung lamp-shades shivered and cavorted light beams. She handed off a tall periscope cup to a seated man, bent and hooded, and took his proffered tip. Seydon watched her strut back to the bar before turning his eyes back to his lit dataslate, thumbing through text-briefs.

SkypioV1.22.87A
Connecting @: Ashla (Rosa Gunn)
[Syncing Realside]
[SMS Collecting - - - ]
[HoloNet Transcriber Active]
A: Messy. Transmission tracing is going nowhere.
K: Having fun?
A: You know it. Did you stock up?
K: Yes.
A: Milk?
K: Yes.
A: Meats, vegetables.
K: Went out for provisions soon as I got my pay.
A: Good boy.
K: You know it.
A: Might be out for a while.
K: How long?
A: Ghost hunting.
K: Literally?
A: Perhaps. You busy?
K: Not at all.
A: Come?
K: I thought I had.
A: ...You insufferable idjit, you know what I meant, damn it, why do I love you?
K: I'll bring your coffees.
A: Now I remember why~
~[Chat Closed]~

"Hmmn...~" Seydon of Arda hummed and sipped his brandy, stowing the slate away into a rucksack leaned against his calve. In addition was length of bundled leather wrapped tight in laced drawing thongs, weighty with steel and glass materials. He checked that it was where he'd left it and glanced up at the paired arrivals sauntering through the forward double-doors.
 

The Hound

Guest
T
Ba-Thump
Ba-Thump
Darkness filled the young man's dream, a dull light at the end of the hall, a wince of pain and small round ball. Ba-thump, ba-thump it went from the floor to the wall, where it came from he did not know, but the detail of the ball was so clear, the stitching primitive yet effective, its surface covered in small blotches of dirt and its surface ever so slightly frayed from decades of use.

Ba-Thump
Ba-Thump

A wince of pain, sharp like an assassin's blade. A red emergency light bathed the image, sweat, grime.

Drip...Drip...Drip...
The bounce of the ball in time with the drips. Where was it coming from? Too vague. Too dark. But something stood out even more than the ball, even more than the sweaty man. A single word, a world not long ago discovered. A sinister shadow loomed over the man now and a loud, metallic shriek echoed loudly through the dream world's darkness.
IFERETES
Turin woke with a start, cold sweat drenched his bare chest and made his loose pajama pants cling to his skin. Exhaling slowly and shakily he ran his hand through his dark hair, leaning against the cool wall that backed his bed. He couldn't tell, vision or nightmare. Sliding his legs out of bed he looked beside him. Empty. His feet touched the cool surface of the ceramic floor he fumbled, falling to his knees, a solid lump forming in the pit of his stomach. Smack. His hands kept him from planting his face into the floor, sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose and onto the floor. Definitely a vision. And something was wrong, someone was in danger.
 
Etti V
The Gala Counter , Table 9


Sitting down from the infamous monster hunter was one very ordinary redheaded soldier. Delila was dressed in Firemane gear still , form fitting cargo-like khaki pants and a light blue military shirt, rolled up to the sleeves. It was something she choose to wear on the battlefield when she was talking and directing, which sadly meant she normally didn't have a gun in her hand, shooting things. Delila was finishing up her final loose ends with the Etti V soldiers. Most had improved to the point of being able to survive and keep a level head. Her suggestion was to send key soldiers away to private military academies and training sessions to further improve and pass their knowledge on.

Right now, no knowledge was being passed on. Delila was digging into a huge plate of food. In her hand she was filling one of the flour shells full of eggs, beans and the various other condiments provided. It wasn't a meal normally found on Dahomey which made her all more eager to dig in. Across from her, Siobhan was presumably thinking she was eating like a starved, unclean and uncouth hog.

The waitress sauntered by and filled up Delila's tea again, looking thoroughly bored at having to be in the space. The dance floor was hopping....sort of. Considering their area the space was probably one of the only where spacers could eat, drink and mingle with the gender they found sexually stimulating. The only thing Delila found stimulating? Stuffing her gut full of food.

"We leavin' soon?I mean, this food is good considering the small spacer pit we find ourselves in. I just know its not the place a Lady of your stature is meant to be seen in."

Yes, leave it to Delila to troll [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] at every moment.
 
Etti IV
The Gala Counter, Table 9
[member="Delila Castillon"]

"A Lady of my exalted rank can go where she pleases. Of course, if you have finally seen the light I can make a proper lady out of you. You would be so lovely. The first order of business would be proper decorum. All that...food is going straight to your hips," Siobhan trolled back in what was a terribly crude imitation of the accent of an aristocratic lady. As usual her attempts to sound like a well-bred lady ended up like a cross between a mentally deficient parrot and a hyena.

It did indeed seem to Siobhan like Delila had been starved for ages. It made her worry about her a bit. Then again Siobhan was actually a big eater. Presumably throwing a tank with your mind consumed plenty of energy and, moreover, her wife was very demanding. Yes, that was exactly it. As for Dells, she really needed to get laid as far as Siobhan was concerned.

The bored looking waitress sauntered away having filled up Dells' tea again and Siobhan discovered that she found watching her butt quite interesting, though she had enough class not to reach out and give it a grope. "I've reviewed the training work you've done and sent the local military command a report endorsing your recommendations. I appreciate the initiative you showed by going here. It's been good for the company," she said, this time in a less annoying voice that would presumably be less grating on Dells' ears.

Unsurprisingly Siobhan was smoking, for it appeared her attempt to quit had thoroughly failed. "You stand relieved, but they're interested in military advisers from us to whip their troops into shape. There's been several reports about ships vanishing between Etti IV and, what's the name again, Iferetes. Merchants have their knickers in a twist about it. It's been overdramatically called the 'Daemon's Triangle'." Did it actually form a triangle? Eh, who cared, it was a fancy name!
 
Etti IV
The Gala Counter, Table 9
[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]


"Proper lady? That certainly doesn't compute. As for my weight that is none of your concern. I'm not out to impress anyone or anything." With such a statement, Delila took a bite of her flour stuffed shell. Being a lady of high society, Siobhan wasn't eating. Most likely because it wasn't free-range celery stalks or some other nonsense. As the woman prattled on in her beauty queen voice, the redhead continued to stuff her face. It was a pleasant surprise to hear Etti IV officials still wanted military advising presence. Perhaps her time on Dahomey would be shorter lived than first thought. Granted, Etti IV was warm in climate as well, but not the hellfire Dahomey was.


"They'll be on their way in no time. Shame I've been relieved. Could have been good for Firemane, setting up here out with the wild space bumpkins. Look around, they ain't got no official military. Its a collection of free planets. Certainly not going to do any good when a real threat comes knocking on their collective doors. What do I know though? I'm just a lowly Captain."


Focusing back on her food, Delila tried not to roll her eyes about this triangle nonsense. No one ever thought of logical alternatives. Pirates. Reavers. Stolen merchandise. Asteroids. Always blaming scientific facts on superstition.


"Sounds like a story parents tell their children to get them to behave. Triangle. More likely it was idiot pilots not paying attention. Or Reavers. We don't know what kind of reach they had, certainly wasn't limited to the southern end of the galaxy."
 
[member="Delila Castillon"]


Siobhan just gave her a look and then without further ado burst into laughter. Presumably some of the patrons were giving her weird looks, but it was not like she cared about their opinion! Delila's total lack of tact had a way of cutting to the chase and being amusing, even when she was being bloody difficult.


"Dells, you're so charming, you know that?" she snarked as she took a drag from her cigarette. "Here I thought Dahomey was growing on you or is not far away enough from the Space Elves? I spent lots of time finding the right apartment for you. I'd miss you, even though sometimes you're a pain in the arse." Just sometimes? Also totally the language a Lady should use!

"You do have a point though. A few planetery miltias with no command and control along with a few idealistic Jedi don't make a professional military force if a serious foe comes knocking. NO's in its death throes, but I doubt free space will remain untouched forever. Providing education in the art of war should give us clout when it comes to expanding our interests here, mining and such although it'll take a while before we make that jump. So, tell you what, write me a report on your ideas for a military advisory programme and name someone competent to run things on Dahomey in your absence and I'll bring it up with Tegs if I'm satisfied. You've already done well whipping the militia on Dahomey into shape," Siobhan said thoughtfully.

Doubtless it would take lots of negotiations with the locals and paperwork, but a small contingent of advisers and troopers would not be a strain and 'lowly Captain' Delila Castillon was capable, though Siobhan did not quite like the idea of the redhead being that far away from her. If the reader were to get the impression that she had abandonment issues they would be correct.


"And since I hang out with the Mandalorians I won't be totally away," she said with a smug smile. So if she got temporarily assigned to free space Dells would still get to see the brunette! Wasn't that lovely?

As for the triangle nonsense, she was inclined to agree. "Reavers got demolished at Gehenna, up to me killing their 'gods', and Fringe wiped out a splinter group at the Hebrides. I doubt we'll be seeing much of them for a long time, as much as I liked the altar they made for me. However, I wouldn't rule out Sith splinter groups and who knows what their labs let loose."
 
Etti V
Outside End's Port
The Gala Counter


“Let’s visit this bar first, it’s just outside the confines of the starport. Not too classy, so the drinks are affordable. But not too sleazy, so the girls are probably healthy. Oh, don’t give me that look, I will buy the first round, lecher.”

Tobias nearly rounded on his new friend, instead he let a look of mock horror cross his face. "Are you trying to say that I can't pay my bills?" Looking at the well dresed man, he pulled his leather jacket closer to his tight black shirt. The twin pistols on his thighs gave him away as a spacer, and the big Silk Industries patch on his jacket didn't help either. "Look, I pay my bills and live an honest life by doing many dishonest things." That same pompous grin Adrian was wearing was matched by the smuggler as they entered the bar. Without much fanfare, the little bell above the old door went ring and no one turned to pay them any attention whatsoever.

Typical, I can't win for losing.

Doing a once over of everyone in there, he saw a couple of broads talking to each other. In one corner sat a formidable man with an even more formidable cup of mead in front of him. "Looks like tonight will be a," he paused as he looked at the lack of lonely single women," a night to not remember." Rarely did he like to throw the towel in so quickly, but he had had zero luck since meeting up with [member="Allyson Locke"]. It seemed most women could detect he had liked her, and that his mind was elsewhere when they had rambled on and on about their personal lives. He didn't share that bit with his companion as they walked into the rather small bar, he instead zeroed in on the most important thing in the whole entire building. Hell, it could have been the most important thing on this planet for all he cared about while his ship was being loaded up for it's next haul.

The bar.

The air escaped the cheap cushion on the barstool as he and his comrade sat down. The old bartender walked over and asked," what will it be guys." Looking over at Adrian, he took the man up on his offer. "It'll be two shots of fire-whiskey," he looked at his friend with that devilish look in his eye. "Make it a double for both of us."








Seydon of Arda Rosa Gunn Jorus Merrill Judah Dashiell Ilias Nyatru Romeo Sin Turin Val Kur Sammo Hache-Khe Nohemi Coryth ElarisThurion Heavenshield Valeria Aetani Hayato Jaxton Ravos
 
Why Romeo was still here he wasn't sure, he felt like staying to see what would happen, after dealing with @Delila Castillo and training soldiers. "This is a new beginning for me..." he said to himself. He still wore his mask, and robes. He was walking down the hallway of some unknown building, of some unknown sector of the city. It was unknown because Romeo didn't care enough to know the names, and all that Jazz.
 

Not Ordo

Just under the upper hand.
Etti IV

Outside the City

Still Napping

A slow creaking was audible as the lone tree waved to and fro in the wind. The small sapling nearby sat strong, silent, and blocked from the wind by the larger waving tree. However, all was not precisely as it seemed. Somewhere in the galaxy there was a stirring of darkness and along with it the Force whispered its warnings. The warning was a feeling more than a thought. It was that dreadful sinking in the pit of ones stomach that begged for a being to fly or fight and this time, unlike times passed, Kalizka would answer.

The tree that had been waving groaned loudly and began to move. Soil and rocks were displaced as roots pulled up from the ground. Branches slowly withdrew and some seemed to twist and meld together as the tree slowly shrank. It took little time as the roots rest firmly on the surface of the planet rather than inside it and Kalizka stood with grey eyea staring into the sky.

"Brrruuuummmmm," he thrummed deep in his chest.

He waited only a few minutes as he checked his satchel and staff and began running toward the city and the starport. He had to go and help where he could. The darkness in the force was primal, violent and close three things he would not ignore ever again.

It took an hour maybe more before the city came into view and hours still before he would enter. Kal followed his instinct as he had many times since rejoining the galaxy at large and it pointed him toward the starport. He walked quickly and ignored the looks as he passed more mammalian species. He had to go toward the danger this time and he had to stand against the tide of warped evil that pushed toward the rest of the galaxy.
 
Etti IV
Medical Center

Progress, yes progress took time. Bringing the medical facilities up to par with the rest of the galaxy took time as well. Time that Mother Arg'garok took much pleasure in.

She might be slow in the uptake, but her heart was truly there for the patients and the fellow medical professionals. There was much to do, to learn, to teach. Yes, she would always be a teacher, regardless if the student wishes to learn.

For the present time, however, she would continue to work in the Medical Center. That is, until she felt a rather disturbing chill. A grunt would come from the stout Gamorrean, her damp snout rising as if to sniff Fate itself.

These were dangerous times indeed.
 
ELSEWHERE

His teeth chattered, noise he could ill afford. The lock was weak; his main defence was the circuitous path he'd taken to find this refuge. So far nothing had tracked him here. He could, in extremis, slide his shotgun's barrel beneath the door and deploy any kind of ill effect, but nothing marked a door for attention like a mountain of corpses outside. Sooner or later, he'd be found, and by monsters long before heroes.
 

Jaxton Ravos

Mindwalker of the Outer Rim
ETTI IV
THE SKEE BALL MACHINES

While Seydon and a couple of roguish characters took their drinks at the bar and a pair of femme fatales traded amicable insults Jaxton was hard at work, trying to get the high score in the bar's skee ball machine. To the average patron he probably just looked like the average zeltron, size notwithstanding, but anyone feeling out in the Force would notice that Jaxton was expending a large amount of constant energy. With nearly 500 pounds of fauxranium equally distributed around his body simply standing up was an act of the Force. He hadn't gotten the nerve to play grav-ball, or even run in his training suit yet, but walking around the bar and playing skeeball was within his means. He just had to be careful to make sure he only sat on durasteel chairs, as he wasn't sure any of their wooden counterparts would hold his new weight.

Looking at the "100" rings he remained focused as he palmed one of the skee balls and swung his arm underhanded, releasing the ball. It traveled across the plain with decent, but unnoticeable speed, As a result it didn't get all the way over to the top left corner, instead making it about about halfway there and falling into the "20" ring. An annoyed sigh left his mouth as he grabbed another ball, and poured the Force into his arm as he swung it under handed, causing it roll towards the targets. With slightly noticeable speed. Up it went, between the twenty ring and the hundred ring, running around until it landed in the "10" hole. Another annoyed sigh broke his silence as he palmed up a third ball and felt the Force flow through him as he empowered his step and launched the ball forward, it now approaching halfway-fast speeds before hitting between the twenty ring and the hundred ring once again, only to roll around and hit the "10" hole once again. Jaxton then reached for another ball, but found none waiting for him.


Three balls per try

The sign said, and Jaxton gave a more audible grunt before pulling out five credits and putting them into the machine, starting the process anew.
 
~Etti V~
~Outside End's Port~
~The Gala Counter~

Someone came strolling in through the coatroom to displace thin sunlight issuing through the shuttered auto entry-door. Seydon paused from listening to Jaxton's background 'static'; Force power was chattering in unceasing tones somewhere in the dark shade at the small of his mind, sensitive to residual ripples playing off Jax's flesh in his effort to keep up against his weight-suit. Deck-plating trembled under his foot-falls and he could smell his exuding sweat with especially acrid detail. Seydon glanced from his data-slate.

The arrival was an overly thin crust of Kajain'sa'Nikto, red-scalped with heavily prominent scalp-ridges planed off by framing horns, bobbing a tremulous throat. He was dressed with spacer-jock breeches and an airy white shirt colourfully rubbed in blue-chalk, yellow sauce drips, and orange plaid stripes that had come off rusty grille-plating. The Nikto scratched at his throat-tubes, leaned forward against the soft obscura-smoke haze. He spotted Seydon, on his lonesome at a washed checkered-alluminum table, with a still full glass lying just out of his seated reach.

He shuttled forward and pushed past Cassidy and Ross at the bar counter, stealing a satellite high-chair to plop down opposite the Dunaan.

"Hmmn?"

"You drinking that?" The Nikto's voice was between bubbly and coarse.

"Planning on something like that."

"I don't got much for cash."

"That's a little sorry," Seydon smiled lightly.

"But I'm parched, you see."

"Yeah."

"And I'm at - "

The Dunaan held up his hand. "Just tell me your scheme, man."

Three flattened data-cred chips slid Seydon's away over the table, clinking off his well-glass. The Nikto grinned.

"Some handsome space-lanes, just off Atchorb. Can lead you right through the Thandon Nebula, untouched. Guarantee. Use 'em all the time~"

Seydon's smile brightened in the grime-shade. "...Do you know Captain Merrill?"

"Know him? Yeah! Any spacer worth their salt knows the Cap'n, man can make junker's dance! ...'Eard he's a Sensitive, though, so not all sure what to make of that."

"Well..." The Dunaan slid the data-creds back over to their owner. "He told me to be on the lookout for a thirsty Nikto offering to pay out your drink with faux space lanes that lead neat little circles round inside the Thandon."

"...Hell," Spat the con. "...But I got a mighty need for a sip. ...You one of them Levantines."

Wolf-eyes peered back with exacting intensity.

"So I hear you lot are always on the lookabout for trouble."

After a note of quiet, the Nikto coughed and rubbed over his neck-holes again, leaning on his thin waist and sharp elbows. "Now, maybe I've heard o'some trouble, between here and the lanes past Kamar."

Seydon's hand was on his well-glass, sliding it over. The Nikto loosed a squawk-note and reached to take hold, though he found the Dunaan's gloved fingers didn't budge. "...Oi."

"So."

"So what? Let me oil my voice and I'll tell you on about it."

"No."

"Oi."

"You won't be any thirstier when you finish divulging a little more."

The Nikto grumbled through his sigh but reneged his hand and leaned back to get his spine a little more comfort against the unyielding chair-back. "Right. Now, I don't have much truck with any fool story about ships and vessels and the like that some lots take to calling 'haunted.' Just ain't no such thing. Not in my experience. ...But there's been something persisting about Authority space for the better part of the last... century I want to say."

"Hmmmn."

"E'ry so often, few ships, flotilla, caravan, fleet exercise, the like, they go out to make a run from this place to that. Nothing out of the ordinary, right? ...Save they make the jump to lightspeed and that's the last you ever heard of 'em. Disappear for weeks straight. ...Then suddenly, comms. on any sympathetic world start picking up ghost-calls issuing out of Hyperspace. Garbled jams with voices too unreal. Patrols go out and... And they find their missing ships. ...Sorta.

"Destroyers tore apart like the Teeth of Horde bit into them. Bulk-freighters and their escorts savaged into oblivion. Just these clouds of vessel debris just idly floating along, bound to get swallowed up in some comet's tail or lost to a star. Nothing salvageable then. Patrols just high-tail the feth out of there to make their reports. It goes a few of those accounts 've been... leaked... to certain journalistic enterprises with eyes for sensational.

"It's standard search and rescue practice to send a few operators in hard-vac suits to go perusing through any vessel debris to seek out anything possibly missed in their sensor combs. Now, no one's rightly seen any of the cam-footage from these excursions. But it's supposedly ghastly stuff. Corridors rimed in hoarfrost and blood, marked out in symbols that move yet don't, shadows taking shape for a brief-sec 'fore you peer round and... nothing. Sometimes they find the dead: cased in torn out vac-suits, expressions all froze in terror. Rumoured they even pick up on echo-casts emitted by local comms: messages of confession, final moments, trying to comprehend what's happening."

"...Hmmmn..."

"Been four centuries of that going around, since the Sickness came and went. Authority's kept it all really hush-hush, but you can't keep a good tale like that from making the rounds. There's talk of a fuzzy pict-capture floating around on local extra-net: colossal warship, all barbed like an urchin, some real ancient make, a hulk. Says that's the Devil's Chariot. The real-unreal predator coming round to have its feast on whatever strays into its sight. Honest-to-feth ghost ship. ...Scariest part?"

Seydon observed the Nikto rub almost too tiredly at his skull-cap. "Last six months, twenty vessel flotilla's from across the CSA have gone missing. Three have turned up: blitzed into pieces only a handful across. The rest, feth knows. ...Maybe summat to do with Druckenwell. All those folk dying at once, that... That can't be any good for much of anything."

Finally, the spacer had his drink. The Nikto snatched up Seydon's well-glass a half-second after relinquishing his grasp, slamming back until the cup nearly chipped on his teeth. Seydon wasn't minding; he was calling up his data-slate.

kypioV1.22.87A
Connecting @: Ashla ([member="Rosa Gunn"])
[Syncing Realside]
[SMS Collecting - - - ]
[HoloNet Transcriber Active]
[Reestablishing. . .]
~Chat Active~
K: ...Said you were 'ghost hunting'. Ashla, what do you mean by that?
 

Vaudin Miir

Planetary President of Iktotch
ELSEWHERE (Gut Hyper Jump Location)

The sound of foot falls and heavy breathing echoed in the dark corridors as Vaudin ran. He normally wasn't the running kind, anyone could tell you that. An old over-under breakdown was gripped like a lifeline in his left hand as he skidded around a corner and pressed his back to a wall. The skittering of clawed feet behind him had died down but he could still hear distant howls.

"Kark it Jorus, why can't you get lost in a massage parlor? " he whispered as he turkey peaked around the corner.

Vaudin moved away from the corner and walked slowly with the butt of the shotgun in his shoulder. He walked cautiously and hoped his ship was still safe from 'whatever this blasted place' was full of. His grey eyes scanned the dark ship and he remembered very clearly something similar happening when he was in the Vagrants. He checked the beskar plate that hung from a strap under his shirt and sighed knowing it wouldn't be much good against these things. Finally he walked to a door and tried sensing what was inside. The door slid aside with some difficulty and he slipped in. He pulled the door closed and retook his shotgun before looking for a lock.

His hand had just left the lock when he turned to be face to face with the dripping maw of a creature he didn't even have a name for. Vaudin backed toward the wall only a step before the thing was on him. There was a scrambling thuding ball of tangled limbs for a moment followed by a muffled shot. Vaudin pushed the thing away and lay against the deck plates holding his side. Light red blood stained his shirt around his hand and he swallowed hard as he pushed up to slide himself against the bulkhead.

"Some rescue Vaud." He whispered after a moment.

[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Rosa Gunn"] [member="Seydon of Arda"] [member="Turin Val Kur"] [member="Delila Castillon"] [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] [member="Tobias Ross"] [member="Romeo Sin"] [member="Mother Arg'garok "][member="Jaxton Ravos"]
 
[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]


Delila hmph'd around her food. Exciting as the news about Etti IV she wasn't so sure if Siobhan would remain true to her word. There were hundreds of excuses the woman could come up with between now and a moving date. The prospect of being out on her own and out from the prying eyes of Firemane was a thrilling prospect. It was the first time in a long time that Delila would have something to look forward to.


"Station me on Etti IV? Away from your protective bosom?"


Finished with her meal, Delila smirked at her word play. It was a very subtle troll at the woman, best to kept them subtle as possible most of the time. The redhead placed some credit chips on the table to cover the cost and leaned back. Picking up the steaming tea, Delila was quiet with her thoughts for a moment.


"Hmm...yes. The Sith tend to let their pets loose when they can no longer afford to feed them."
 
[member="Delila Castillon"]

All claims about Siobhan coming up with an excuse to stop Dells from spreading her wings and flying to freedom must be dismissed! Siobhan did want 'her' Dells to be happy and fulfil her potential after all. She also did not at all have abandonment issues or anything like that.

"You're a big girl, I'm sure you'll manage being outside of its embrace for a while. Don't lose your liver again though!" She'd have to send Anemone across half the Galaxy to put a new one in!

"The Sith are really neglectful. PETA should go sue them." Did PETA even exist in this Galaxy? Eh, whatever! "Well, they've been getting Jedi to turn traitor and defect at the drop of a hat," Siobhan spoke with an air of contempt in her voice. "Teta appears to have been a complete rout for the Republic. Anyhow, the disappearances might be worth checking out."
 
Etti IV
Sector 45, Warehouse District


Boots shuffled across the hard duracrete, echoing in the large and expansive space. Thunder rumbled somewhere down the street, shaking the building and breaking the relative silence. Judah was finding out Etti IV was a hot and humid world. With that heat and humidity came impressive storms that rivaled the summer afternoon thunderstorms found on his adopted home of Ceto. He was itching to get back home, to see his wife and son. The planetary shields had been important on Etti IV but it wasn't the humanitarian deed that kept him on planet for a little while longer. It was business.

Blue eyes searched the space, taking in the sights. Admittedly the sights weren't much. A standard warehouse in a district close to a spaceport. Basic as it was, the building held some potential. It was a completely open space with the ability to modify it in a manner suiting to multiple business needs. Beside him, a middle aged Mon Calamari male walked along. Chalu, his second in command had also made the trip, and was giving the once over as well.

"Whatcha thinking Chalu? Decent location, we can secure a good lease price on it." Judah made a motion with his hand, essentially cutting the space in half. "We can set up the dedicated manufacturing of our new pharmaceutical ventures on this half. Salacia offices set in the back. Until we can expand further we'd keep it strictly in production with the new stuff. Its close in location to where we are about to harvest."

Chalu blinked his bulbous eyes, listening and thinking. Head tilted to the side as the mention of offices.

"Offices? Do we plan on moving production out here? Sanctum space is quiet. We're facing issues where we are now. Look at the Horde issue, we lost a great deal of profits in reducing the Ceto plant for that amount of time."

"No plans on moving everything here. Thessa would kill me, she loves Ceto. I think she was going to take out the Horde herself -- even while pregnant. I like our position in the south end of the galaxy. Think of this as expanding and swinging up. There is a lot to offer out here and the Mara Corridor has certainly fueled things in recent years."

"Expansion. I like the sound of that."

"Let's not get too excited yet."
 

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