Dominion Big Trouble on Little Courscant || Silver Jedi Concord Dominion of Nar Shaddaa

[Gir Quee]

Location: Nearing the Palace of Worms
Objective One: Talking to a Slug
Tags: Broka the Hutt , Gortta Desilijic Tiure , Jessica Med-Beq , Sakadi Marathi Sinvala Queen Popara Willow & Ivy
Other notes: Accompanied by Ariela Captisan and Sariya Fenni

"You guys are in for a treat," smirked Sariya, "getting to see a speck of my life before."

Gir had little appetite to think about the echani woman engaging in gladiatorial blood sports for the enjoyment of others. To be sure, combative sports were popular throughout the galaxy, even in the most civilized of cultures and worlds. But there was a certain depravity and lack of boundaries that seemed to seep through Hutt Space that he could never quite seem to find palatable. He avoided the area in the past when he could, even if that had meant taking longer routes on his trips from the Mid Rim back to his homeworld of Hast. Yet the Bryn changed everything. And while the man was not terribly thrilled to be on a Hutt world, he imagined that the initial distaste was mutual. What's that saying? War breeds strange bedfellows? He shook the thought from his head.

"Try not to get into bouts while you're here," said the admiral, "I would still appreciate having my bodyguard in one piece than a fighter bleeding in all of her glory."

Confusion and irritation flickered across her face almost simultaneously, "Oh, I don't know if I can help myself with that..."

A stern look from the human replica droid abruptly cut off the echani as the trio entered the place trailing behind Jessica Med-Beq and Sakadi Marathi Sinvala . The admiral doubted that he would be a main voice for the actual negotiations, but bringing an understanding of the relevant concerns of war and the military forces allied to the Silver Jedi Order would likely mean that both groups would likely consult him. Upon landing on the world, Ariela had already began to gather some more information through the use of local Directorate and Silver Jedi agents and procurement of information from a couple of infochants. The admiral hoped that these efforts combined with what he could gather from the meeting could help him to begin to plan the defense of the world from the likely Bryn'adul incursion.

 

[Sakadi Marathi Sinvala]

Objective One: Talking to a Slug
Location: Entrance of the Sky Palace
Tags: Broka the Hutt , Gortta Desilijic Tiure , Queen Popara , Willow & Ivy , Jessica Med-Beq , Gir Quee

A smile played about the Sephi's lips as she listened to the conversation between the admiral ( Gir Quee ) and his bodyguard. She hadn't met him before, but it was difficult not to recognize the admiral. The same could be said about her fellow Jedi. The one who probably the least known and recognizable among them, was herself.​

The Sky Palace itself was not as decorated and grand as she had expected. It made her wonder if the actions of the Concord on Nar Shaddaa would once again present the Hutt clans with an opportunity to take control of the galaxy's underworld. She had no doubts that the Hutt clans would stir up trouble for the Concord in the near future. And yet, they had no other choice but to aid them if they wished to put a stop to the Bryna'dul war machine.

Sakadi stopped beside the blonde-haired Jedi Master once the Council's protocol droids came out to great them. A couple of graceful gestures made by the Sephi would cause the Protocol droid who stood behind her to speak up in a metallic tone right after Jessica. "Is the Council ready to receive us?"

 

[Gortta Desilijic Tiure]

Objective 1

As he listened to Broka, Grotta nodded sightly in agreement. He never did trust the Jedi. His family had a long and complicated history with the Jedi. Long ago, it was even thought that the old Jedi Council was at one point responsible for the death of Gortta's father, who himself was then just a young huttlet. "I have my doubts. The Jedi are just as grubby and power-hungry as the rest of us. They just hide it under the guise of being pacifists." He too kept his voice low, so as to not disturb the others in the room.

The humanoid saying 'It's lonely at the top' never rang true more than in times like these when Gortta would soon be surrounded by diplomats and politicians. It was far from the life his ancestors had, running a crime syndicate from the depths of the underworld and on the outskirts of outer rim planets like Tatooine. The last thing Gortta wanted was to be one of these sniviling politicians but he did recognize he was a key player in this new Hutt Republic and would play his part dutifully as long as it benefitted him to do so.

--------------------------------
Tags: Broka the Hutt Queen Popara Agrippa The Hutt

 

[Centin Tillo]

Objective 2
Location: Rooftop
Nearby: Tulan Kor Masaru Varga Goyrg
Writing With: Serixibis (Planned)

As the Rangers near him halted and began to open fire Centin quickly disbanded from the group. I should take out those two over there. He steadied his breath in an attempt to summon what calm he could muster. He stretched his hand out towards one of the closest gang members, envisioning a pulse emanating from his palm. With a moment’s concentration he released the energy, sending the warrior backwards into one of its allies. The two figures were sent back further than he intended and careening over the roof’s edge.

Centin raced to the edge to see what had become of these former foes. As he looked down into the darkness that resided below, he was unable to determine what their ultimate fate was. It is what it is. If they hadn't been here as paid thugs then they wouldn't have died. He allowed these thoughts to justify his actions and assuage the building guilt he felt at taking two lives.

The thought was cut short as Centin turned in an instant, his reaction not the result of his own conscious choice. His hand reflexively lit his saber while raising it just in time to deflect an attack from a blaster. Before he had time to ready himself for another attack blaster fire erupted from multiple sources in front of him. He began a panicked Shien defense, a technique he was sorely versed in. I didn’t even notice them approaching. What a novice error.

Deflection after deflection was made as he created a defensive performance, one where he was consistently having to inch backwards. The few moments of success came to an end as two shots raced towards him in perfect tandem, one of which breached his defense. The wound to his right thigh caused him to shout in pain and stumble backwards slightly. His unsteady footing gave way to a slip off the roof’s precipice, a fate he had already given to two others.

As he fell, Centin braced for impact. His fall was quickly interrupted as he careened into a metal stairwell attached to the side of a building. He felt his breath escape as he slammed into the railing with some velocity. Rebounding off of the fixture, his descent, while slowed, ended with a pained thud. He laid there for a moment while taking shallow breaths. He continued to lay still while attempting a careful examination of his injuries. Three, probably four cracked ribs. And my leg is shot to hell. Well great job you fool. Let down your guard because of two thugs and now you’re all alone in some disgusting alley. He surveyed his surroundings while beginning to stand shakily. At least I can walk, or rather limp. Centin then checked the pack on his protosaber, ensuring his wasn’t broken. At least everything is still intact… or at least all my stuff is.

He made his way through the alley when his steps stalled in a sudden pause. The hairs on his neck raised, his body tensed in response to nearby danger. He sensed something, something dark.

What the hell is that?

 

[Serixibis]

// Nar Shaddaa, Alleys.
// Centin Tillo

"What the hell is that?"
​

The alley was deserted, aged neon signs screaming their light against the corpses of the two gangers Centin had thrown from the rooftops. Crumpled in a sad heap of shattered bone and slick gore they bled upon the pavement not far from where the Padawan landed. And beyond that...

Sickening, Aberrant, Perverse.

The force washed over the Padawan in a wave of slick filth, the sensation was...wrong. Oil was dragged across his eyes, his teeth itched, bile clotted his throat. It was though reality itself revolted against the sensations he was feeling...if only for a moment.

When the sensation passed Centin would be aware of the source. A slim-shouldered warrior who stood a few inches shorter than the reach of the spear in it's gloved hands. The raiment of her station seemed a sharp contrast between the pragmatic and the fanciful. Forge-blackened armour bore a hundred scars across its surface, a litany of violence etched into the metal carapace like an offering to one dour god of bloodshed and war or another; Yet that Armour was buckled over a silken robe dyed a rich hue and embroidered by careful hand with golden thread in needlessly elaborate fashion.

Her hand lofts, the gilded Sith War-spear levels at the Padawan and turns, the neon light reflecting across it's scratched surface at unnatural angles. Fresh blood drips from the edge of the weapon, and her armor shows the signature scorch marks of blaster fire.

"You've come to Nar Shaddaa to kill? That is good. You now face Serixibis of the Tulak. Defend yourself."
​

A flick of her free hand serves to tug the black armored hood down from over her head, the Pureblood's red hair spilling across her shoulders in a mess of shimmering crimson as she grasps her spear in both hands. Her lips part, tongue licking outward to taste the air as the thin bone spurs along her jaw spike outward, her entire body tense as she advances on the Padawan!

 

[Brooke Waters]

Brooke, Token to her friends, was always enjoying the different types of jobs she found herself on. Some were by the will of the Force, others were by Coren, and others were to repair the damage she helped create under Marek. Hopefully Damian Starchaser . She had brought the kid along, just for number sake. More often than not, her teaching was much like Coren’s, spur of the moment, and probably not in any rule book on how to train someone to do… well anything.

Listen, it wasn’t like she was going to get him up on a pole or anything. She just wanted a Jedi to see that the world wasn’t always peaches and cream. As she ran her hand through her hair, to get it off her neck and shoulders, she smiled over at the Jedi. What kind of hell hole indeed.

“A place I used to… run. Wasn’t always this bad, but some of the people are still here for the decisions I made, for what I put them through.” Her emphasis was on the role she played. “The world isn’t always pretty. But I thought I was giving these girls a job, and a steady pay. Company went belly up and the good-for-nothin’ who ran it was… not doing it right.”

She took a seat at the bar and held up a finger to her lips to the bartender. They’d know that Brooke was here before long, but she didn’t need to announce it. She was teaching! “The trick, I can fix it. And the girls can be even more useful than they are now.” She had her drink presented, clear liquid, green fruit, without ever lifting an order.

“Whats your drink?” Could the kid, even… drink?

It was Nar Shaddaa

Caden Evesa

 

[Queen Popara]

O B J E C T I V E | Talking to a Slug
L O C A T I O N | Sky Palace
T A G S |
Broka the Hutt , Gortta Desilijic Tiure
Jessica Med-Beq , Sakadi Marathi Sinvala
T H E M E | Here.​

The Queen nodded toward the words spoken by Nem’ro as she served herself another cup filled with water. When she was nervous, Popara drank water, too much water sometimes, and perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing if she paid any attention to what doctors and biologists said about this matter, sometimes at night she wondered if there were other things that she was wrong, like right now. A part of her agreed to both Gortta and Broka, the Jedi were filled with morals, with ethics and concepts that the Hutts only heard about it but hardly understood anything about it. Once she asked a slave to explain to her what love was all about, he had said to her he was a poet long ago before he was captured by the Zygerrians and so he did as she requested. He spoke for hours about the subject with so many pretty words that she actually felt bad when she dumped him at her krayt dragon’s pit.​

“Blind kittens, is what they are.”, she muttered to her fellow lordas. “Blinded by ideals and hopeful dreams that this galaxy will chose what they believe to be ‘good’. We are a much older species than that foolish dream, we know best. If not us, then someone else. So why not us?", that was the old kajidic philosophy that her species firmly believed. But on the past events, Popara started to have her doubts regarding that and much like her ancestors, perhaps it was time the kajidic philosophy once again adapted to those troubled times, or they would surely perish. Not today and not tomorrow, but another enemy could rise to challenge them and extinguish the Hutts once and for all. ‘Perhaps Borka’s dream, allied with this Concord is exactly what we need to change.’, she thought to herself before drinking her cup, leaving only a small pod of water inside, and as her big head focused once that, her mind kept thinking how small that watery reflexion made her feel.​

“Your Highness, they are here.”, Anakin whispered to her ear. She placed the cup back on the table and swinged her hand towards her majordomo, so he would speak with Broka’s servants and allow the Jedi to enter. She raised her head back to her peers, together, the three of them were the hope of the Hutt species, she was the head of the Hutt Cartel, Borka was the Supreme Mogul of the Hutt Republic, and Gortta was one of the most highly respect members of the Council. They were empowered by the kajidics, they were the Hutts and what they decided would become law. In the old days it was customary for the Five Heads to be present for such occasions, but a lot has happened, the Besadii were all but gone and the rest was useless, now, they could be called the Three Families.​

"They have arrived." She said in Huttese, and dragged herself back to one of the three power chairs prepared by them to receive their guests. And as the doors opened, Anakin took for himself the role of herald and announced in a booming voice.​

“Welcome, masters of the Silver Jedi. You stand before the Hutt Council and its heads. Gortta Lorda of the Desilijic, Broka of the Nem’ro, Mogul of Hutta and Queen Popara of the Anjiliac.”, he soon bowed to the Jedi masters and stood out of the way.​

She sat on the power throne on the right, it was respectful for Nem’ro to sit on the middle, it was his palace and it was he who he held the office. But she was courteous enough with guests on her palace when she wanted, and that didn’t meant tossing them at the pit all the time. And so, she spoke galactic standard when addressing them.​

“Greetings, Jedi Masters. Approach our presence without fear, for it is a known fact that it has never been a gathering of Hutts and Jedis like this one before, but it is under our grace and wisdom that we sit on this meeting to break porgs with you all as friends.”, after those pleasantries, Popara turned once again to look at her peers and what they would might say. Waiting a moment before opening her big mouth and asking with a calm tone of her deep voice. “What is the will of the Silver Concord towards us and our holdings?”​

 

[Dreidi Xeraic]

The area Dreidi explored was an eye opening experience, there was gangs ruling over the population, slaves being moved onto ships and leaving the planet since everyone need that if the SJC were moving in, it would be an end to their easy criminal lives and the risks clearly outweighed the pros for many. There was nothing she could really do to stop the slavers escaping. One small child, even with the Force, couldn't take on 10 or more well armed slavers. Or at least not with a training saber and little experience. Dreidi did message higher ups and informed them of the ships in hopes the slaves were free later but there was still a pang of guilt of her own inaction.

Was her father treated this poorly when he was living alone on this world? How did he survive? Dreidi wiped a tear from her cheek. It must have been a hard upbringing, this made her realise that he had been trying his best when she was growing up, giving her a childhood and holding her back from becoming a Jedi for awhile. However, she was still upset that he didn't trust her enough to talk to her about anything somewhat serious unless she confronted him about it. He couldn't stop her growing up and he should know better. He gave Nitya respect and trust and she was only a few years older than she was!

Looking at a store, she noticed a piece of jewellery that she thought had a pretty pattern, it was terrible that some of the best work happened in some of the worst conditions, it was clear this jeweller deserved a better paid job. But she suspected most people in the galaxy did. Taking the item she asked for the price, it wasn't expensive and the credits she kept on her was plenty.

Placing the item on the counter, Dreidi fumbled in her pocket for the credits then realised her purse was not in her pocket. Strange, she was sure she had put it in this pocket. Checking her other pocket, not there. Checked for her training saber, gone too. Someone took her saber and her money! She apologised to the seller and left the shop bitterly disappointed. Looking around, Dreidi panicked, where could she find her saber or purse?! Oh, Master Vaashe was not going to be happy that she lost her saber...

 

[Broka the Hutt]

Objective One: Talking to a Slug

The Jedi diplomats entered the room. They were smaller than Broka thought. The massive Hutt was sitting centered at the table. The introduction was to Broka's liking. He knew Popara loved embellishments on herself. He would have done the same if he was introducing the now Three Families of the Hutts. As the diplomats got comfortable in the provided seating in the front of the table. He knew Jedi liked to deprive themselves sometimes, yet Broka always prided himself on being one of the best hosts.

"<Welcome to my palace Jedi. Feel free to take a seat. My servants can get you food and drink if you wish. They do not disappoint, I can assure you.>"

Gortta Desilijic Tiure Queen Popara Willow & Ivy Jessica Med-Beq Sakadi Marathi Sinvala Gir Quee

 

[Centin Tillo]

Objective 2
Location: Alley
Enemy: Serixibis

The sickening wave of unadulterated dark energy finally passed over him, his senses returning to some relative normalcy. He stared at the now unhooded figure before him, heart pounding wildly in his chest. His eyes scanned her figure while noting the various details of her attire. She’s… She’s a Sith. The thought culminated with his gaze reaching its destination as his eyes fell on her weapon. Blood trickled off of its edge, indicative of the malice its wielder intended. This is it. What I’ve spent so long training for. If I falter here, I could die. She leveled the spear towards the padawan and began to advance towards him.

Centin reached for his own weapon and ignited it, the saber’s green glow bathing the alleyway in its light. He instinctively took up his dueling posture and raised his blade. Saber hand up. Feet shoulder width apart. Wider. Make sure your back foot angles outward. Not too much though. He winced noticeably as he leaned into the stance, the weight placed on his injured leg causing him a large amount of discomfort. In a normal circumstance such a duel would already be difficult to survive. To survive now, Centin knew he would have to battle far better than he ever had before.

He met her advance, opening with a series of flourishes that ended with a thrust high and outside, attempting to injure her shoulder. He was careful not to commit too strongly to the lunge and overexpose himself. A mistake like that would be deadly. His attack missed its mark, causing Centin to retreat slightly in order to regain his composure.

“Why are you here?” He asked the figure during the brief intermission. “Come to kill a Jedi?”

 

[Sakadi Marathi Sinvala]

Objective One: Talking to a Slug
Tags: Broka the Hutt , Gortta Desilijic Tiure , Queen Popara , Willow & Ivy , Jessica Med-Beq , Gir Quee

After a brief silence, the Protocol droids responded with a curt "Follow us please." They would not wait for the Jedi to comply. Instead, the droids immediately turned to lead them inside.

The droids guided them through a series of halls and corridors, some filled with trophies that would put any bounty hunter she knew to shame. The droids came to an halt in front of two large ornamented doors, which swung open the minute they approached.

Her gaze immediately fell on the three Hutts who looked down upon them from their imposing chairs, each of them properly introduced by the herald. She entered the chamber with a confident stride, making sure that she didn't outpace the other diplomats. They would have to work in unison here, just like the three Hutts who judged them from their thrones.

Her iridescent lilac eyes then shifted to the servants that surrounded the three Hutts, notably resting on the twins ( Willow & Ivy ). They had an unusual presence within the Force, that much she could sense. But their exact role was a mystery to her.

Sakadi's attention was drawn back to the Hutts, as the Queen on the right ( Queen Popara ) began to speak, followed by the Mogul ( Broka the Hutt ) in the middle. As he suggested, Sakadi would sit down in one of the luxurious chairs. After her fellow diplomats sat down as well, Sakadi would instruct her droid to respond. "The diplomats of the Silver Jedi Concord thank the great Hutts for their hospitality." Her droid began, as it carefully translated the sign-language of the Sephi "The Silver Concord is delighted to announce that the reclamation of the Besadii Palace is well underway. As is the Concord's venture to reestablish Hutt control over the moon." The Sephi considered it appropriate to inform the Hutts of the good news first. Perhaps that would make them more likely to agree to their terms.
​

 

[Tarok Vassket]

Own Objective: happy to have rescuer down the line.

Azula hadn't wanted to come, but she came anyway. To argue against the mission would have invited more questions. Azula hated questions.

It was a big city, wrapping around the entire moon like a blanket. A blanket of steel and concrete a kilometer deep. A vertical city, the new built upon the bones of the old. Down in the lowest levels was abject poverty that few knew. In a past life she had known it.

That was the gamble she had made. A city that could swallow a million souls without batting an eyelash would miss one more. It was a gamble that did not pay off.



"Now this...this is an interesting twist."

Azula stopped suddenly. She had been walking the dark streets seemingly unafraid of what the shadows held. They had held exactly what she truly did fear.

She lifted her hands to either side slowly. It was important to make sure they knew she wasn't holding a weapon. The Illdrian would be here. There was no other way they could have ambushed her.

"She'll be armed."

Shadows detached themselves from the darkest places and took the shapes of men and women of various species. There was no uniformity to their garb, but they were all well armed.

She was patted down as the whine of a vehicle approached. Azula felt a cold shiver at their touches. A rodian held up her lightsaber. A young man, perhaps a boy, tugged the blaster free from the small of her back.

"Fascinating..." purred Boldren as he finally emerged from the shadows too. The Illdrian cowered in his wake, hunched over and peeking her shaved head around his torso. "...that you would keep that. Get in the car."

Azula obeyed, and was soon being taken far from any meeting with the Hutt representatives.

 

[Serixibis]

//. Nar Shaddaa, Alleys.
//. Objective 2: Annihilation of the Wicked.
//. Centin Tillo

Here, the pup would learn to hunt.
​

Her movement is slow and calculated, dark boots clearing the distance between them in a steady advance as the gleaming, bloody end of her spear is thrust outward toward the Padawan...but she does not strike immediately. Indeed, the warrior seemed to be intent on studying the boy for some time as she maintains a defensive posture, the echoes of blaster fire heralding the departure of the Rangers toward their next target. Now, they were alone.

"I see you have a lightsaber, one you have built yourself? Impressive, but such a weapon will not avail you in this trial."
​

She rasps, her voice deep and tinged with a hidden malice as she stalks around the man like a wolf. Her eyes flash, mouth yawning open for a moment and revealing a maw of horrid, pointed teeth. Those incisors click together, a short rasping breath coming from the darkling figure as Centin makes the first strike!

"You seize the initiative but do not comprehend what you face, and that leg...you are injured?"
​

The comment was voiced with...what was that. Concern? Interest? The Acolyte danced backward from the opening strike, the measured and careful nature of the attack allowing her enough time to lift the end of her spear and bat the swinging saber away. When the sith-crafted weapon meets the glowing green blade there is a crack of reddish-orange light, the alchemized weapon resistant enough to the saber to drive it aside but would likely not hold up to prolonged contact.

"You cannot hope to defeat me if you fight as a man. Your injury and this struggle must become one and the same, the pain you feel cannot be held at arms length. You must take it within yourself and in doing so, clear your mind."

A lecture, is that why she is here? To teach? With a dramatic flourish the war-spear in her hands is reversed, the fighting edge held down toward the ground as the blunt cap of the weapon comes up and moves to strike against the humming green blade in the Padawan's hand! The sweeping strike shifts as soon as it makes contact, her hands sliding further down the length of the pole arm using the inertia of the first motion to fling the bladed edge of the weapon toward Centin's ankles! It's a telegraphed move, one he could hop over easily enough.

"Strike with your pain! Fight me, if you wish to live!"​

 

[Gortta Desilijic Tiure]

Objective 1

Gortta gave a nod as the Jedi representatives made their way into the room. He offered a brief "Welcome, honored guests." feeling the pleasantries offered by the other two Hutts was more than sufficient. He listened intently as the protocol droid spoke for its Jedi companion. He found it interesting that this species did not communicate verbally on their own. Her reliance on a translator droid was not something Gortta was a stranger to. For many years, Gortta had struggled to learn Basic. During those years, he had relied on a translator droid himself. Since he was a Huttlet, Gortta always had his own personal protection detail and it was one of his guards, who had watched over him for years was the one to teach him Basic. The two of them had formed a unique friendship but unfortunately, the curse of being a Hutt is the extremely long lifespans. Kydul, his Twi'lek bodyguard passed away when Gortta was only reaching adolescence. He'd never admit it openly, but Gortta never really got over the loss of his friend.

As the droid finished its translation, Gortta waited for Broka the Hutt to be the first to offer a reply.

------------------------------------------
Tags: Broka the Hutt Queen Popara Sakadi Marathi Sinvala

 

[Caden Evesa]

He listened to her story.

It sounded like she was trying to do the right thing, but it hadn't gone well. She had intended to do good by the girls who were currently doing "things" in front of them, but by the sounds of it, she had failed in this job for one reason or another. It wasn't anything to do with him, so he decided he wouldn't pry further.

In regards to what the girls were doing, he could only describe it as dancing. It was dancing unlike anything he had ever seen however, and if he wasn't on official business he would have found himself very interested in what the girls were doing in front of them.

Then she asked what he was drinking.

He looked at her for a moment as they sat down. He figured Okkeus Dainlei would absolutely scald him and probably kill her if they returned and he was drunk. Yet, he was oddly tempted to try it. Just once, just to know what the experience was like.

End of the day, it was Nar Shaddaa, they'd probably served people way younger than he was. He honestly wouldn't have been surprised, every part of the planet was shady in some way. Most bars and dance clubs on the planet had probably served toddlers, if not younger than that.

"I'll have what you're having"

He looked around at the dancers once again. He was interested in their stories, how they ended up where they did. There must have been easier, better ways to make credits than what they were doing. They shouldn't have to sell their bodies to make money.

"How are we helping them?"

Brooke Waters

 

[Tulan Kor]

Dorn Company
Objective Two


The battle was over as soon as it began.

Tulan stood center, while his Rangers collected everything, setting it into neat little piles outside of the houses they found it in. Bags full of credits, weapons, drugs, intelligence, computers, counterfeit goods, materials, fake identification- if it was anything remotely bad, the Rangers were ordered to collect it.

Tulan was made aware of Goyrg's presence by an information from one of his Team Leaders. Master Sergeant Tulan Kor removed his helmet, his night vision hanging free. He took in a deep breath of air, letting the night air hit him. The Rangers, clad in their usual black and red 'discreet' fatigues, gathered around Tulan, the ones that weren't actively collecting the 'loot' that the Hutt's bozos were looking for.

Goyrg would find himself surrounded, red-eyed Antarian Rangers glaring at him in the darkness. Red lenses hummed softly in the night, each Operator surrounding him only having the decency not to shoot him out of the kindness of their Jedi compatriots. If it were up to the Rangers, they'd kill the Hutts, their goons, their crime families, and anyone who did business with them. And if it were up to Tulan, he'd do it publicly to make a point.

But Tulan wasn't in charge. Goody-two-shoes Jedi who wanted the world to work in harmony, with songs, rainbows, and with meditation wanted the Hutts to suddenly shift cultural dynamics. Tulan understood the evil of the galaxy- it was only by power, by harsh acts of violence, that you brought peace to anywhere. Death was the ultimate equalizer, the ultimate way to exert your will on the enemy.

And the gang that Tulan was walking towards, was indeed the enemy. He approached Goyrg the same way he would if he was about to shoot them. Behind Tulan, Rangers lined the streets, disposing, collecting, and seizing contraband and the 'loot' the bastard was after. Tulan didn't seem to care that the beast had nearly four feet on him. To him, it didn't matter if he had ten feet. Tulan was faster on the draw- and with a Disruptor on his hip, he wasn't too particularly scared of many things that were organic in nature on the planet.

"I know your type so I'll make this simple, mate." Tulan pointed to the Dorn Company Rangers collecting and securing the area and all of the "loot" inside of the gang's territory, or what used to be theirs.

"Touch any of the things we found here, and you, your crew, and anyone you know dies." Tulan held his rifle across his chest with one hand, and his helmet in the other- so that the beast wasn't looking into his night vision, but rather his eyes. He wanted him to see the seriousness, the validity of his claim.

"You play by our rules now, mate. Now bugger off."

He turned, his threat leveled, his violence displayed, and his claim to the threat fully on display. The street was lined with bodies, each expertly disposed of. The Hutt Soldiers only killed a handful- while Dorn Company made quick work of anyone who wasn't on their side.

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

He hoped that one of the slu...Hutts had given Rune the access codes, because he sure as heck didn't have them. Trying to think of a solution one idea popped into his head. It was a five digit code, so there was only one possible option for it. Placing his hand on the keypad he typed in the possible code.

One one one one one.

After a few seconds the computer gave out an angry beep, most likely meaning the code was wrong. Shrugging his shoulder he turned to the door. It was big in size. Walking up to it he knocked twice, listening to the sound of it. It rang like renforced Durasteel. Now idea number two came to mind.

"Well, I think I have a pretty handy access code right here."

Taking his lightsaber off of his belt he turned it on, the white saber illuminating the black door. He watched as the blade slowly penetrated it until he felt it pop out on the other side. Drawing a giant circle he cut out a hole, big enough for them to fit into. Using the force he pushed out the now-cut door. The circle fell to the ground with a bang. Peaking his head inside it was pitch black. He turned to Rune, beginning to talk to him.

"You won't happen to have like, a flare, would you?"

Molly Stellaris

 

[Molly Stellaris]

Objective 3

Rune watched Okkeus Dainlei cut to the heart of the matter. He shrugged as he made eye contact with the human

"They won't like this. But they should've given us the codes if they wanted their door intact."

He replied to Okkeus by reaching into his robes and producing two glow rods. The smaller Jedi handed his counterpart one with a grin.

"Never leave home without 'em."

He cracked his just before stepping through the hole. The wash of greenish light showed a dusty, cobweb-filled passage.

"Well, I guess the cleaning staff isn't around."

 

[Centin Tillo]

Objective: Survive
Location: Alley
Enemy: Serixibis

“Yes, it’s one I built. I’m certain you’ve encountered similar weapons before,” he replied to her query. She was certainly experienced in combat, that much was overwhelmingly obvious. It only made sense he couldn’t be the first Jedi she’d fought.

As the Sith continued to speak to him, Centin felt his focus diminishing. It was strange, almost as if she was offering some sort of advice to him. Strike with your pain. The odd sentiment only deepened his bewilderment at his situation. Is she helping me? Or is this some sort of Sith mind trick? Maybe Dun Möch? His mind raced through the various possibilities, rapidly trying to make a careful calculation of her intentions.

The internal dialogue was interrupted once again as the two figures clashed, saber and spear making direct contact. Centin watched as the warrior carried the momentum of her initial strike into an attack towards his legs. He leapt backwards in a somersault, disengaging from the entanglement. The landing, while soft, sent a white-hot streak of pain up the length of his body as his feet made contact with the alley’s pavement. Strike with your pain.

“You say I should fight with my pain. What do you mean? How does embracing that help me?” he questioned aloud to her. In Centin’s mind it seemed like the exact opposite of everything he knew. If he needed to calm his mind he had always put everything exterior aside, pushing it out his thoughts. Embracing the pain seemed like it could only break his concentration, not help sustain it.

He didn’t wait for a response, his question being semi-genuine while also being a hastily created attempt at distraction. He charged at the combatant, blade lunging towards her left midsection. It was a simple feint, one he didn’t entirely expect the Sith to fall for. Just as the thrust was reaching its full extension Centin shifted his stance and slightly opened his posture. With a flick of the wrist he rotated the saber, his attack now racing in a diagonal arc upward towards her chest.

 

[Serixibis]

//. Nar Shaddaa, Alleys.
//. Objective 2: Annihilation of the Wicked.
//. Centin Tillo

“Yes, it’s one I built. I’m certain you’ve encountered similar weapons before,”
​

The question was acknowledged with a brief tilt of her head, the slender tendrils across her jaw curling with the motion as she continues to stalk around the Padawan. Her footwork was good, a slippery black clad figure that does not so much walk as glide from place to place. Her steps are light as they carry her in circles around Centin.

​

In truth, she had not yet faced a Jedi, and as far as she can tell, she was not facing one now. The fact that he was acknowledging her questions told her as much, but that was good. There was potential there. Her thoughts were interrupted briefly as the Padawan leaps away from her strike, eyes shining with a lively cast to her dark lips as she felt the pain lance through his leg.

"You divide yourself too much if you attempt to hold it apart from everything else. Take your pain, your agony and embrace it with all your being. Build a great fire in your soul from it's kindling and feed in all of your doubts about this trial. Empty yourself until there is nothing left but the fire. And then use it to destroy your enemy."
​

She hisses, her words coming quick and clipped as she watches him tense and level his glowing saber in a charge! The war spear was held horizontally, ready to bat aside the incoming thrust but as he pivoted and twisted that blade she gave a faint nod of approval, subterfuge, good. Perhaps he wanted to win after all.

A flick of her wrists sent the spear end over end in her hands. The lengthy polearm flipping around as the fighting edge slammed into the earth, the diagonal strike halted by the solid bar of sith-wrought steel. She haulsed herself clear off of her feet in an impressive display of martial acrobatics. Her left boot pops up in a flurry of red and black as she aims a full-body kick into the halted Padawan!

​