Dominion Beyond Thunderdome (OPA Dominion of Dasoor)

[Grok]

SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

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​

Grok barely noticed Wren 'The Cannon' Drake until he nudged past the gamorrean on his way to check out a new fight. It had been a harmless gesture but his snout flared in rage. Even for a gladiator his psychology was primal. He tossed a few swoop bikers aside and lumbered over to the human fighter. He glanced at the fighting pit but violence was not enough to distract him.

The tusker oinked at Drake. It was a fierce sound that left little doubt between them despite the language barrier. Grok had a 'problem' and his aggressive body language made it obvious what kind of solutions he was considering.

 

[Wren 'The Cannon' Drake]

Wren Watches Grok approach with a cocksure grin, his posture speaking to a king barely tolerating a peasant appealing to him. He stays leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, perfectly relaxed and dismissively regards the tusker, looking him up and down like a servant that stepped out of line. "What's up smiley, you want an autograph?"

 

[Caedyn Arenais]

Objective Three: Suspiciously like Objective Two.
Starship: "The Vagabond" Heavy Patrol Cruiser.
Location: The Agarix Sector.

​

Dasoor lay within the Agarix Sector, a fitting place for the Vagabond's first official voyage and patrol as Alliance Command sought to expand their reach. Upon the bridge, stood Caedyn Arenais whom seemed obviously young for a Starship Captain, and evidence of what privileges a life raised in wealth could purchase; That seemed the hushed assumptions of his crew at-least. None had said it outright, but word traveled on such a vessel and he had heard rumors suggesting as much.

In a way, it felt like he was still living in his Father's shadow. The finance of House Arenais had assisted in the majority of the vessels construction, the Jedi Coalition not having the appropriate backing for such a commission, nor were they built like a military organization for that matter. Caedyn had used his connections within the Outer Planets Alliance to assist in making it happen, where his name as a Jedi could not.

Similar in some ways to the Judiciary that his Father captained, he had seen the promise of a Jedi in charge of such a powerful vessel and had gone the distance to ensure this one was much more heavily armed, built for lone patrols and able to take a beating and deal it out two-fold if forced to do so. It was a vessel capable of great destruction, yet the importance lay in the fact that it would be under the command of a Jedi whom valued peace and justice above all else.

As the Vagabond jumped out of Hyperspace and the stars all receded to their stationary sight, Caedyn looked across the bridge, gazing into the abyss from the observation platform exposing the vast Galaxy ahead through the transparisteel wall. Behind him the crew were alive with chatter, relaying information to one another while the Commander held the Con.

So far so good.

 

[Eldin Daine]

SCENARIO 3: WE'LL BUILD OUR OWN OBJECTIVE: THE GUNS OF EMERALD VALE

Mood
​

He could feel a set of eyes on him as he sat patiently for the bar keep to give him attention for his order. Eldin turned toward the eyes, which belonged to an old man, “Don’t see too many strangers in these parts, where you from?”.

“Bespin, for now”, the bar keep approached wiping down the bar with an old rag, adding more dirt then he removed. “Whiskey if ya have it”. A shot glass thumped down in front of him along with a half full bottle of ‘whiskey’. Out of the corner of his eye, Eldin saw the approach of someone dressed to the nines totally covered walk up to stand behind him. Eldin's hand moved to his gun on his hip but the 'stranger' removed their mask and before him stood Christine Dellard , the girl he met the beach resort. "Could ask ya the same question", he grinned. This place was not high on the list of things to tick of the bucket list, but he could not really answer her. Why he had come here was still unclear even to himself.

“Just traveling through?”, the old gent continued. Before he could answer, a woman’s voice cut through with expletives, Eldina recognise Rook’s dulcet tones. Her appearance however, caused another pause in the room. One stranger was one thing, but three? For the town this was highly unusual, and it would not take long before everyone would hear about it and come to the cantina out of curiosity.

“Yeah not sayin’ long”. Eldin pulled out a stool for Rook to join him for a drink if she so wished.

From a door at the side of the cantina walked two men, Eldin saw them in the mirrors behind the bar keep. One stay leaning on a pole that propped up the staircase to the upper level, the other approached the end of the bar and ordered a drink. The bar keep moved quickly this time, dropping the rag and attending to the man.

Edin pour himself a shot, and downed it before refilling. The stuff was the worst he had ever tasted, burned like fuel all the way to the gut. He noticed the old man had gone, some of the others at tables had stopped to watch, as if knowing something was about to happen.

“Fancy bike you got tired up outside”, the guy hissed as his whiskey burned his throat. “Fancy one of those myself, must have cost a pretty penny”. The man turned to the side, eyeing Eldin up and down, before turning his attention to Rook and lingering over her just that little bit too long.

“Got a fancy symbol on it, you belong to a gang?”. It was Eldin’s turn to take a look, naturally the guy was armed and probably fancied himself as a gunslinger.

“Yeap”, his eyes darting to the man by the bannister, armed as well. “Fancy joinin’?”, a hint of sarcasm.


Rook Heimdal

 

[Sam Rodarch]

SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

Everyone has a plan until...

...they were forcibly reminded about the laser tethers, for as soon as the gong rang out they burst into life, the belts that both fighters were fitted with connecting together via an ominous beam. Rodarch looked down and shot her belt a very distinct look, one that said: THE KARK IS THIS? Guess it was going to be a problem sooner, rather than later.

Her opponent had already begun to circle her and dictated by the tether, she had to keep facing him, rotating along with his movement.

His stance spoke of experience, and a form she was not familiar with, much to the woman's frustration. She didn't come from a world of decorated hand-to-hand, with refined finesse in spades. No, her realm of shady underground shockboxing came complete with very little discipline, boiling down to broken skull savagery.

Hit them harder than they hit you.

A wild and sudden charge, see how he dealt with the pressure of the bum-rush. Her left fist remained in front of her face, but the right arced around in a sweet shot directed at his kidneys.

The Fool

 

[The Fool]

SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

The distance plan went into the bin the moment the laser tethers materialized and the beast rushed at him with dire ferociousness. He instinctively leaned backwards, a mistake, which pulled her in closer; only his last ditch attempt at a block covered his face from the impact.

Roman didn't expect the kidney punch, she had all the advantage. Her ballistic punch found its vulnerable target, just as he swung a right punch at her face, and then his lights went out for a moment. He was still conscious, so not too bad but-

What the fuck?

His whole body revolted to the orders of his brain and Roman fell backwards like a plank of wood.

Sam Rodarch

 

[Sam Rodarch]

SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

Her glove connected with his side, and immediately discharged what could be defined as a dishonourable amount of electricity. That was the beauty of tampered gauntlets, they could deliver an absolute stunner.

There was, however, no time to savour the moment as in turn the man had swung a retaliatory punch that went around the Mandalorian's guard and clattered straight into the side of her temple, sending her staggering off to the side as he was felled like a great tree of misfortune.

Feth, she hadn't missed that feeling. Nothing quite scatters the brain like a stiff hit and an even stiffer shock.

Sam herself would have stumbled and fallen were it not for her opponent's dead weight that pulled her back towards him through their tether. Frankly, the woman was already sick of this additional stipulation, and the only person to take it out on was decked on the floor.

Was he dead?

Her vision still vaguely blurry from his shot to her head, Sam swung a hard kick at the downed man's ribs, just to give him a good wake-up call.

The Fool

 

[Maokai Bantam]

SCENARIO 2: FINDERS KEEPERS​

Aboard: The Lacuna Gaucho
Action: Hanging out with Cei Kyros

Poodoo just got real, and quickly. What was just a bit of salvage with a little claim issue thrown in had become a homicide with a feth load of danger thrown in. Ship was on full lock down, and someone else was at the controls. As to door slamed shut he watched Cei run for the nearest door and try to open it. Either he had forgotten how to operate the controls or he was locked out. Mako really didn't care because something was coming into view behind them its' glowing form coming into view.

Crawling up from the dark corridor it raised up on all four, glowing blade like claws seems to grow from its elbows. A single yelow-red eye locked onto the two of them the screeched in something that can only be described as cross between a wounded animal and droid binary.

"Don't know what the feth you are, but you take one step closer and I'm gonna need to take you down!"

Mako's weapon was at his shoulder, all safeties off and signed to take the beasts head off.

 

[Grok]

SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

---

​

"What's up smiley, you want an autograph?"

Grok was not amused. The gamorrean bared his tusks at Wren 'The Cannon' Drake and began thumping his gut in a primitive display of territorialism. He oinked again at the boxer, not really sure what an 'autograph' was but fully aware the mocking expression on his face meant he wasn't sorry. A bloodthirsty cheer when one of the pit fighters went down drowned out any further...conversation.

He telegraphed the punch, sending a wild haymaker flying towards Drake's face. Some local swoop thugs shouted at alarm and annoyance when an unsanctioned fight broke out in the crowd. They quickly changed their tune after glimpsing Grok however and started taking side bets instead. Anyone with enough sense started to back away but a few spice addled spectators swayed back and forth in place hardly aware of the close hand violence at all.

 

[Wren 'The Cannon' Drake]

Wren's mocking smile grows feral as he dodges the punch with a sidestep and throws a lightning fast, tight, perfectly coordinated one two at the side of Grok 's head, straight to his temple with a wild laugh before again pivoting to force his opponent to turn and prevent him from setting his feet. He clearly didn't do a lot of damage, but that was how he liked it. Finally, Wren thinks as he continues to sting the gamorrean with punches that would knock a human out cold but seem to barely phase the beast, a decent fight.
"Come on then big guy! what's the matter, too slow? Better learn quick before I turn you into breakfast!"

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Objective 2: Finders keepers
Allies: OPA Maokai Bantam Cei Kyros
Enemies: CNO

"Fire at will! Double front!"

While the enemy heavy cruiser is a little slow, the enemy only had one direction they could fire at: head-on, and same went for Therapy Command as well. Which meant After being fueled and loaded, upon launch, fighters could readily take a circuitous route through the asteroids and evade almost all the enemy point-defense there was. Meanwhile, knowing the hits would come from forward, double front was ordered, and, while the shields held, it still left the remaining sides exposed. The counterattack came in the form of electromagnetic plasma, turbolasers as well as HVC shells. It also turns out the enemy used double-front, too, because the enemy seemed to have absorbed much of the damage, and only some holes in the hull have been punched, but not enough to compromise hull integrity significantly. Once the circuitous routes ended, the enemy would be in for some aft-based trouble, with bombs hitting the command tower as well as the engines, bordering on a mobility kill. Which meant they would be adrift under inertia after the bombing run.

 

[Rook Heimdal]

Objective 3: The Guns of Emerald Vale


Rook was thick-skulled, receiving nothing more than an inconvenience from the doorframe. It was something to complain about though and she was more than content to do so. Spotting Eldin at the bar she dropped the hand from her forehead, moseying over with a slow plod as she ignored the looks of other patrons.

She nodded at the offered stool. Let it never be said Eldin wasn't a considerate type of feller.

The woman addressing Eldin was one she didn't know, or she simply wasn't paying enough attention to know. Rook looked to the barkeep and raised two fingers, "Double glasses of milk please an' thank ya."

Rook rested her elbows on the bar, hunching over as she wai-- "Yes I'm serious. Two. Of milk." She waved off the barkeep's inquiry.

For the most part Rook looked entirely detached from the current situation. The two men swarming around Eldin were like vipers, coiling tighter with every word and waiting to strike. She kept her eyes forward, thanking the barkeep with a mumbled word as he set down her blue milk.

She took a sip, ears perked and gun heavy on her hip.

Eldin Daine | Christine Dellard

 

[Christine Dellard]

SCENARIO 3: WE'LL BUILD OUR OWN OBJECTIVE: THE GUNS OF EMERALD VALE
​

Although often working solo as a Judge, they occasionally did team up for greater tasks, and it was quite nice to see a familiar face around this backwater of the Mid Rim. It was a glad surprise. For a long time being part of a band, she enjoyed working in groups.

''Well, I'd rather be back on Binaros if that's what you're asking...'' she stated carefree and grinned back at him, before turning to the barkeep who now looked at her for another order.

''Umm, a beer... Not too strong.''

The barkeep snorted some at her request, first a request for milk - two glasses of it, and then a not so strong beer! It had to be one of his strangest evenings! However, he picked a bottle from a cooler behind the counter and opened it for her. Credits and beer changed owners on the counter and Chris took a sip from the green glass bottle, while resting an elbow on the counter. She figured the water would be a risk to drink around here, and she wanted to stay on the more sober side at work.

''Heard of some gangs uping their game in terrorising the people around here, so decided to check it out... So far nothing, though...'' she gave Eldin a loose explanation, before glancing over at the woman on the other side of him.

''Who's your friend?'' she asked Eldin and gave the woman a greeting nod.

Eldin Daine Rook Heimdal

 

[The Fool]

SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

Something cracked and it certainly wasn't a fortune cookie. Electrocuted, he barely felt his nervous system registering any semblance of sensation and you think that's bad? His hair jolted upwards and eyes wide as two planets, he looked like a spice jacked Paul Stanley at a nasty after-party. Instinctively, rather than deliberately, Roman yanked the tether connecting them and sent a signal to his right fist to launch a face welcoming committee at the rib-crushing beast of a lady.

He wasn't sure the fist listened and if it did - he wasn't sure if his fist would strike first before hers struck him coming down.

Spice jacked Paul Stanley wasn't really on this plane anymore.

Why is everything purple?

Sam Rodarch

 

[Grok]

SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

---

​

Grok's haymaker flew wide and before he knew what was happening Wren 'The Cannon' Drake hammered the gammorean with a flurry of strikes. They were not soft blows but it took a lot to really hurt a battle frenzied tusker. What the human did manage however was to send him reeling back, dazed and off balance. More punches rained down, he took a few blind swipes but Drake was everywhere his fists weren't.

He snarled in frustration and leaned back before slamming his forehead into Wren's center mass. His unsporting attack clearly caught the shockboxer off guard before sending him sailing into a table. Grok oinked in triumph, blowing steam through his snout.

"Burn it all down!"

"Karabast! Guavian Death Gang!"

The arena erupted in blaster crossfire. Grok glanced around at the rival gang pouring in from outside to raise holy hell with the local Hellions. He snorted in frustration, tempted to press his advantage and attempt to finish Drake off. Instead he swiped up a passing crimson soldier and broke their cybernetic armor across his knee.

 

[Wren 'The Cannon' Drake]

Wren felt his ribs crack as Grok slammed his massive head into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him crashing through a table. Lying flat on his back, he turned to his side and hacked up some blood before struggling back to his feet to face his opponent with a snarl. That cheap bastard. He wanted to play dirty, oh Wren was going to show him what happened when you pissed off a- his reflexes sent him down to the ground as a blaster shot ripped through the space where his head had been. he heard shouts of violence from the raiders and the defenders, fire flying overhead in a deadly pyrotechnic display. he saw boots approaching. Thinking quickly, he grabbed a jagged piece of metal of the broken table and flew to his feet, adrenaline letting him forget the throbbing ache of his cracked ribs as he stabbed it into the nearest combatant's eye with a sickening wet crunch as it pierced the skull and entered his brain. As he dropped, one of the others replaced him, swinging a shock baton. Wren side stepped and caught the mans wrist before slamming his fist up with all his might into the man's elbow, shattering the arm. As the man screamed in agony, Wren swung him into the center of the massive battle before, finally able to breathe for a second, considered his options. He could run, and probably die. Or he could fight, and definitely die. But, one of those was much more fun, he thought with a feral grin as he rolled his shoulders, for a moment an island in the chaos. Besides, he had been meaning to get someone to pick him up as hired muscle to get him a ship off this rock. What better way to advertise. With that thought and a wild berserker laugh, Wren pulled out a pair of good old brass knuckles and dove into the center of the fray.

 

[Sam Rodarch]

SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

Well, he wasn't dead, that was for sure but he didn't exactly seem to be recovering pretty well. Was it over? Was she supposed to keep beating him? Sam blinked a few times, her temple still throbbing from his last blow, his only bl-

Suddenly the Mandalorian felt herself being pulled forward, her mid-fight considerations leaving her unaware that her opponent was apparently still game for the fight. Balance lost by the sudden yank of the tether she began to fall, arms instinctively outstretched to prevent herself landing upon her face.

Not accounting for his waiting fist.

The gauntlet smashed directly into Rodarch's mouth, the sound of impact disguised by the crackle of the electricity.

She came to a few seconds later, now also laying on her back alongside the man in his alternate plane of existence. Her mouth tasted rather metallic and her tongue instinctively moved to check the damage. That fist-rattled face exuded confusion as in the place of her two front teeth she found blood and gums.

Unbeknownst to Rodarch, the party had been crashed. It was hard to focus on the blaster fire overhead when you'd just eaten a meaty fist in the face.

“...where's ma teef?” Sam groaned slowly, still too stunned for her future rage to be fully realised.

The Fool

 

[Wren 'The Cannon' Drake]

Wren had often heard that things move in a blur for soldiers in battle, that everything moves too fast to notice the details. Wasn't like that for him. He felt every impact that reverberated up his arm, heard every scream as he crushed someone's skull or snapped someone's neck, saw every body hit the floor. And he loved it. This was the adrenaline he was always chasing, this constant one step from death combat was why he got into shock boxing. He tore a bloody path, heedless of the multiple lacerations and bruises he incurred along the way as he picked up and dropped blasters and blades as needed, all the while letting out peels of crazed laughter that chilled anyone who could hear it to the bone. Slowly, he fought his way towards the center of the brawl, towards the arena that had always been his kingdom. If he was going to make his stand, might as well be on his turf...

 

[Eldin Daine]

SCENARIO 3: WE'LL BUILD OUR OWN OBJECTIVE: THE GUNS OF EMERALD VALE
​

"Gangs huh?, now why don't that surprise me", it explained why Christine was here, and mostly likely why he was here too. The Force moves in mysterious ways. "Think we may have found 'em". It was a good think the two girls were armed, it was obvious that a quiet drink in this cantina was not on the cards today.

"Christine, this is Rook", he introduced the two, "She travels with me". No real time for long explanations, not that that was really needed.

The sound of scuttling, tables moving and behind them all, people pressed to the wall, if they could get out of the place they would have. A man entered the cantina from the main door, this one looking like he was the boss and the two men already there, began to chuckle as if enjoying an inside joke. "Manni don't like strangers pokin' their noses on his turf". The man close to Eldin moved away from the bar and positioned himself. "Keep your mouth shut!", the newcomer barked in a dark mood.

"Was told you three were in town, just wanted to come and welcome you. Let it not be said that I don't open my arms to strangers. As long as they are not here to cause trouble". The man did not move, kept to the position with the front door behind him. The only sensation through the force Eldin felt was danger and evil from the man, the other two where just his lackeys with little brain but they knew how to use their guns. "What is OPA doing here? noticed your bike outside", seems that bike had drawn a lot of attention, the OPA symbol on it was the give away.

Eldin pushed off his stool, slowly and turned firstly making eye contact with the girls and hoped that his 'look' gave them the heads up that things were about to go down. It was three for three at this point, probably more outside but one step at a time. "Heard about some trouble, thought we would take a look. Know anythin' about it?". Eldin moved passed Christine and Rook, stood with hands on hips pushing back his jacket to show his twin pistols.

"OPA got no business here, why don't you and your ladies get on your bikes and leave and you might just get out of here alive". Manni's eyes narrowed, and dead and never left Eldin's.

"Seems we found the gang girls". He threw the comment over his shoulder. But the tension in the room was thick, and set to explode like a short fuse on a powder keg.



Christine Dellard | Rook Heimdal - light the fuse girls.

​

 

[The Fool]

“...where's ma teef?”

What?

At this point he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not. Everything seemed so surreal. He laid on the ground with a, despite her primal visage, woman on the ground and felt knocked out. Roman concluded it was not an odd wet dream when he saw her lack of front teeth. It's a nightmare?! The mind played cold tricks on lonely men.

Boom!

An explosion sent tremors all over his body and reactivated a few parts of his electrocuted system. It gave him the needed shake to realize what really was going; a damn killing field. Goons stormed the arena shooting aimlessly at everything that moved and Roman remembered what he had forgotten - he was a slave! And this was his god damn chance of escape. He yanked himself upwards but the tethered pulled him back down next to the toothless fairy.

"Fuck." he groaned and stood up to a crouched position over Sam Rodarch . There was a tone of urgency in his voice when he spoke to her, "Get the hell up, we have to bail. Now."

It seemed funny how the intended center of attention that were the two of them in had become invisible to the killers in the stands. Ironic, almost.