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

[Auteme]

H O M E
Charlie Nooran ​

Nar Shaddaa was... kinda gross. Just a little bit. Part of Auteme just wanted to get a planetary-grade pack of wet wipes and start cleaning things. Many of the people there were so grimy and grouchy, and if they just had a shower they'd be so much happier. Hygiene was so important; it was known to have a marked effect on a resident's perception of their living conditions, and was an excellent step towards improving social mobility. Perhaps if the police of Coruscant's Undercity actually did 'clean the streets' they might not have to fight as much crime. Nar Shaddaa didn't have that option.

Auteme felt out of place, both in that she was the cleanest person on the street (Charlie kind of needed a shower) and that she had actually been born on Nar Shaddaa. It was a miracle that Auteme hadn't been born with any chronic health conditions on a planet filled with things that might cause them. Then again, she definitely wouldn't remember if she'd had a surgery to fix them when she was young.

Part of her felt like she hadn't entirely been born here. Not her, Auteme -- she'd been born on Contruum, the first thing she could remember. That was the day that the monk had first told her of how he'd found her. From that day on she'd demanded he tell it to her every night before she went to sleep. It went on until she was thirteen, but even after that she'd ask occasionally. She'd listened to him tell it the night he left her on Kashyyyk among the Silver Jedi. Maybe it was childish to cling to the past like that, but Auteme found comfort in the idea that she'd been given a life with no strings attached. That was, until she met her parents again. Life was strange, and life changed.

She squeezed Charlie's hand, the one that felt so warm in hers. Walking around in the evening on Nar Shaddaa -- even on one of the top levels -- would have made her nervous, but Auteme knew that she was safe. Charlie was cute, but she had one mean swing. No one was going to bother them tonight.

So, without Charlie's favorite pastime, they needed to do something else to fill the time. Auteme had brought the other girl out to Nar Shaddaa, so the responsibility fell to her. After another block she spoke up.

"I, um, have a fear of flying," she said. "Well, not flying. Crashing, more like. I've been in two starship crashes in my life, and the first one was when I was little. Our shuttle crashed somewhere around here." She gestured to the tall buildings a few blocks ahead.

"I don't know exactly where, but... somewhere. I'm most afraid because... it reminds me of how easy it is to lose everything. Not that I had much. I was, like, four. But I got separated from my parents and forgot everything except for my last name. Just freaks me out." She glanced at Charlie. "Are you afraid of anything?"

Page Claim Gang

​

 

[Broka the Hutt]

Objective One: Talking to a Slug

The mute was intriguing to Broka. He never encountered Echani before, but had no clue if they could speak or not. The way she moved her hands to communicate to the droid was rather amusing to Broka. The massive Hutt lorda waved a chubby hand, and a couple of the servants walked into another room.

"<It is good that you Jedi are willing to help your neighbors. We will leave our soldiers to do the fighting across the planet. Here; we discuss future business.>"

As Broka finished, the servants came back with a glass bowl of writhing eels, Broka's favorite, and put the bowl on the table in front of their master. He reached forward, and put it into a little holder by his chair. The whole time, his eyes were wide with hunger, his mouth salivated. He quickly reached in, pulled a live eel out, and slurped it in a second. He then continued, "<We three Hutts have been proponents of a new form of Hutt rule. The Kajiedic system of old failed our species. With the new Hutt Republic, we can govern our space with greater strength. The Bryn'adul threaten the very existence of our people, and all others on this planet and the others in Hutt Space. If Nar-Shaddaa and Nal-Hutta are to join your governed systems, we, the Hutts of the future Hutt Republic, request domestic autonomy within the Silver Jedi Concord until the issue regarding the Bryn'adul is finished.>"

Broka then slurped up another eel as he sat back and waited for the diplomats to respond.

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

 

[Brooke Waters]

The blonde was the type to share, but not overshare. She didn’t need to go into all the details, or how she found herself helping out the Jedi and specifically Coren Starchaser. It didn’t make a difference as things were laid out before them. Sometimes it helped others to hear her stories, and see that she was still… sort of fighting the good fight. She was helping protect Jedi, and other students of the Light, by being someone who could stand between them if the time came for it.

She wasn’t exempt from falling to the dark side, or making bad mistakes, but it helped to show that people could come back and be useful. It wasn’t here fault, she signed on with a company and things didn’t go as planned. Ok, maybe that was her fault. She looked at the kid as he copied her order, then rolled her eyes before nodding to the bartender, tapping the rim of her glass.

“If you’re sure.”

Another sip as she watched the dancers, trying to keep her own identity a bit quiet. “People come into these establishments to get off the beaten path. The dancers aren’t even thinking about dancing. Imagine being in this bar, and hearing the same 12 tracks on repeat. What they can do is listen. And they talk.” She sipped again.

Caden Evesa

 

[Goyrg]

Objective Two

Back at the palace, Goyrg and his boys divided their scores, then headed out in the speeder for more enemy loot. They got a lead on any other mercs out there. If any others got to places before them, it was fair game. As they drove out to the next not pillaged territory after taking out all the local casinos, it was time to clean the streets of the neighbors. This part will be more fun for him. There will be more people to see his work.

They landed in a neighborhood bellow the sky palace of his boss. As the Nem'ro Suns got out of their speeder, they saw some other mercs got there first. The grunts that Broka sent here were having trouble, so Goyrg wanted to show them how it's done. However, these guys that looked like soldiers seemed to be almost as good as Goyrg saw it. Their leader had the guts to speak face to face with the top soldier in Broka the Hutt's army.

The man was intent on having them out of the neighborhood, which was fine by him. They got here first, so they get the spoils. That was the one form of honor the belligerant Houk had. When the smaller human finished Goyrg responded with his gun over his shoulder, "Easy pal. Me an' the boys were gettin' outta here anyways. It was fair game, an' you got here first. Have fun with the grunts. We're headin' to another side of town. Just don't pillage any of the Hutts' stuff. That's why ya came here for your Jedi friends ain't it?"

Before the Human responded, Goyrg and his band of Nem'ro-Suns hopped on the speeder and went off to the next neighborhood over not in Hutt control. It was a small factory town. All too much fun for Goyrg to smash up. They got off the speeder, and shot every goon they saw. Plundered all the credits they could bag, and kept the goods of the place intact for when their boss moved in. Goyrg loved violence, but he loved his job more. He didn't want to smash the wrong thing and get bumped off. Then who's skulls would he smash then.

That stuff didn't matter to the Houk's bloodlusted mind anyway. He shot the rival gangsters, and pillaged the good stuff to take back. Afterwards, the Nem'ro-Suns got back on the speeder and drove to the next unclaimed territory. It was fun cleaning the streets for his boss.

Tulan Kor

 

[Centin Tillo]

Objective: Survive
Location: Alley
Enemy: Serixibis

His eyes squinted as she spoke, processing every word individually as he searched their contents for the truth. Her rasping voice did no favors in helping dissuade his mistrust. Yet even still he felt something genuine in her speech, the advice being offered honestly for some unknown reason.

“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."

These last sentences rebounded within his mind. Build a fire. Become one with the pain to steady my focus. It was these thoughts that diverted his attention from the fight, a distraction that resulted in injury. The Sith buried her staff in the ground, responding with a devastating kick to his clavicle. The blow sent him reeling, tumbling end over end before coming to rest a short ways down the alley.

The young duelist laid crumpled for a moment before slowly rolling over. His fists were planted firmly against the ground in support as he began to rise, battling against the pain. He raised up to his knees, hunched over on all fours. It was there he felt his strength begin to wane. If I don’t figure this out right now, I’m done. I can’t keep fighting in this state. He closed his eyes and began to focus allowing the pain in.

His mental barriers retreated, allowing his surroundings to overwhelm his senses. Agony caused his body to tense and convulse in pain. His face contorted in a tormented expression as he felt the fullness of the damage his body had endured. There was a battle that raged inside his mind, an internal struggle to avoid succumbing to his wounds while accepting the pain.

A primal yell escaped from his mouth, his senses numb to his environment. I have to fight. His focus became singular as he rose, slowly staggering to his feet. He faced his opponent for a short moment, then dashed forward. He grimaced as he felt the muscles in his legs slowly tearing. The advance continued and Centin reached out his hand, expelling a Force Push from his palm. He followed the pulse of energy with a leap, both hands grasping the hilt of his blade. The padawan floated through the air, poised to release a downward strike as he neared his foe. If he connected, the overhead attack should quickly dispose of his opponent.

 

[Jessica Med-Beq]

Objective 1: Talking to a Slug
Allies: Sakadi Marathi Sinvala Gir Quee
Hutts: Broka the Hutt Queen Popara

"Domestic autonomy is something we can readily offer. Just that we require freedom of movement, be it of goods, people and forces from and to the Hutt Republic and the rest of the Concord, as well as a garrison stationed in the Hutta system until the Bryn'adul crisis is over. Any Concord military presence is to be deployed only to respond to the Bryn'adul"

How was the "Hutt Republic" going to be different from the kajidic system that dominated the Hutt Cartel? A common threat faced both entities, everyone understood as much. However, attempting to police the Hutt system is a delicate process at best, maybe free movement had its risks, but usually better for the local populations than the alternatives. Yet, even with refugees being part of the Concord's military recruitment process, they couldn't be everywhere at once.

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Objective 3

After accepting the glowrod for the Jedi he stepped inside the temple. Cobwebs covered the entire place. Hopefully all of the spiders were dead, becuase he hated spiders. Wiping them out of his face he then laughed at the man's joke.

"No, it doesn't look like it."

They continued on deeper into the temple. Each footstep echoed throught the massive building. When they didn't move, it was absolute silence. You could hear a snowflake hit the ground. It was super eerie. After walking some more they came upon a staircase. A lot of the steps were missing, but it looked like they could continue up. Looking over at the Jedi he motioned his hand for them to walk up.

"Shall we head up?"

Molly Stellaris

 

[Serixibis]

//. Nar Shaddaa, Alleys.
//. Centin Tillo

One last frantic attack.
​

A smile, manic and toothy crawls in an ugly slash across the Warrior's face. She knew the Padawan had listened. She felt when he gave in to the pain, when his will faltered. Her lips pressed into a thin and bloodless line, the heavy end of the war-spear tapping once against the rough stonework floor as she prepares for his assault. She knew intimately what frame of mind he would be in, like a beast roaring and ripping at its killer. It was always the same.

"Good. Good! Fight!, fear the end to come! Your life draws to a close and the only thing you can do to prolong it is to embrace that which will be your end."
​

She knew what was coming, but all the same when Centin rose and sent a wave of energy her way she was taken aback by the ferocity of it. That smile never faded, however. Even when her knees briefly buckled and the sable and scarlet-clad warrior was brought low. The leaping Padawan seemed to move in slow motion as the war-spear rises to meet him, the weapon held horizontally as the humming edge of his lightsaber cracks against it, and in a near blinding flash of red and orange light shears straight through the handle of the weapon!

The force of his blow was so intense, fueled by his anger and pain that the Acolyte's weapon was sundered in a single strike! The sith-forged weapon coming apart as the lightsaber sails through Serixibis's defenses. With a snarl the Sith rolls aside, the humming green blade catching her on the right forearm and with a shriek of superheated metal shaves off the armored vambrance protecting her. Red flesh turned a deeper shade, and then black as the contact burn cooked it in an instant!

That broke the SIth's smug mood, the shattered remains of her weapon cast aside with a deeper growl as gloved hands pluck the Tuk'ata fang knife from it's sheath mid-roll. Coming up on Centin's left the weapon is flipped around in her hand and slammed toward his flank, moving to open his gut from back to front before she darts forward and passes him fully in a whirlwind of black cloth and gore.

​

 

[Caden Evesa]

The drink was placed down in front of him.

Caden sensed the conflict within her in numerous ways. He sensed that she had danced close to ways of the dark and he sensed that she was conflicted. He nodded towards her and run his hand through his hair. He felt sorry for her, it was unfair for anyone to have danced with the dark.

He was quite starting to enjoy her company.

He looked at his drink, and took a sip. It tasted... interesting. Caden didn't like it, but it didn't not like it either. He was certainly indifferent to it. He took another sip, slightly longer this time. By the time he had finished, he didn't even realize he was half way through the drink.

"Why would anyone want to come here and listen to the same twelve tracks on loop? What does that achieve, surely after the first time through you'd end up getting bored, going mad with boredom. Especially these girls, doing that all day every day"

They could talk? Caden interpreted that as information spreading. It was always good to have a way to find out information, to find out things. If there was a group of people who could do that easily and learn things from people, they were a good resource.

"So these girls are a good source of information?"

Brooke Waters

 

[Broka the Hutt]

Objective One: Talking to a Slug

Broka listened to the delegate. She approved of the Hutts ruling their worlds; good. Very good. The free movement during the time of the Bryn'adul was not the worst thing the Jedi could impose on them. Once the issue is resolved, the Hutts will be completely free to rule their planets with favorable relations with one of their neighbors.

"<I, Broka of the Nem'ro Clan will except this free movement as it relates to the crisis at hand. For strategic purposes, I agree with the free movement of Concord troops through the remaining territories of Hutt Space for at least as long as the Bryn'adul have been beaten back and annihilated. We Hutts will make sure Jedi are only passing through for either military or commercial purposes. However, I alone can not make such a decision. I leave it for my associates here to express their thoughts on the matter.>"

Broka then leaned back to slurp up a few more eels. Free movement was risky for their autonomy. However, if it can be written that the influence of the Jedi will only be felt for them trading in the markets, or moving troops through the systems to deal with those monsters.

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

 

[Centin Tillo]

Objective 2: Survive
Location: Alley
Enemy: Serixibis

Sparks exploded violently as the saber and spear met, the Sith blocking the Padawan’s flying attack. Centin pushed against the spear’s haft with as much strength as he could still summon, roaring at his foe. “I... WILL...NOT... LOSE!” he screamed, the powerful saber strike cleaving the fiendish warrior’s weapon in two. She dodged the blade as it hurtled towards her, rolling aside to avoid the brunt of the attack. He felt the blade make contact with her forearm in a shallow slice before it plunged in the ground.

I did it. I hit her. I can win!

His thoughts centered on victory as he fought to free the protosaber from its pavement sheath. The struggle was cut short, however, when he suddenly detected a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye. With one fluid motion the Sith had avoided the direct blow and prepared a devastating counterattack. In an instant she was beside him, a dagger tearing across his side. Centin felt warm blood ooze out of the gash rapidly and begin to soak his tunic. “I… I…” He was unable to finish the sentence as he slowly collapsed onto the ground. His left hand grabbed at the wound, attempting to hold some sort of pressure against it. He cried in pain as he turned over, faced upwards in the dark and dirty alleyway. “You... got me, huh?” he whispered as he felt himself beginning to succumb to the final blow. “Looks like… this is the end then. Tell me… did I… fight well?” he asked through gritted teeth.

His vision began to fade, the weight of his eyelids growing ever heavy. “Go ahead… finish me off. I’m ready… to die.” The lie rang out hollowly, one last attempt at a brave face. He looked up to view the star-filled night sky, then down at the face of the enemy who defeated him. Centin stared into her eyes, ready to accept his fate.

 

[Serixibis]

//. Nar Shaddaa, Alleys.
//. Centin Tillo
//. Objective 2: To Die Among Strangers

Flesh cooked and popped, her arm raised for a brief inspection of the wound along her right forearm. It would be a fine scar, not so deep or grand as the mark she had placed on the Padawan but that was of no concern at the moment. Victory was hers.

The primitive blade was flipped once around along gloved fingers, blood wicking from the bone edge and spattering to the ground below as she paced around Centin, those horrid, puss yellow eyes glaring down at him as the knife turns over in her hand again and again.

"You did well, boy. Better than I had even hoped."
​

The praise comes without a hint of deceit or sarcasm, the dark warrior stepping closer as a heavy boot comes up and presses hard against his right hand, pinning it and the protosaber down. Reaching down the saber's activation stud is tapped and the now inert weapon is plucked from his weakening grasp, the cylindrical hilt looped through her belt.

With a flick of her wrist the force is conjured in a wave of pressure that moves the shattered fighting edge of her spear closer to the couple. The broken spear tip is scooped up and placed carefully in his open hand, perhaps in a symbolic gesture. Or perhaps to ensure the boy didn't die without ~some~ kind of weapon in his grasp.

Once that was done she moves to pat him down, the small silver commlink pulled from his tunic pocket and tapped once, twice. Her eyes never leave Centin as she holds the device forward toward his lips.

"You say you are ready to die, but here is another way. Call to your allies. Tell them of your failure, and beg that they come and save you. Do this, and take our meeting as a lesson. If you wish to be a true warrior you must never allow a sense of morals prevent you from doing what is right. Victory comes only to those willing to discard everything to achieve it, even their beliefs."
​

The Sith remains atop Centin as she waits for his choice, the armored bulk of her armor resting against his wrist as she keeps pressure on it. Despite his wounds she was not about to give him the chance at something clever. And then, almost as an afterthought...

"And I would have your name, so I know who it is to seek if you choose life."​

 

[Gortta Desilijic Tiure]

Objective 1

Free movement through Hutt space was no small request and only served to strengthen Gortta's reservations about this whole operation. It could spell disaster for this fledgling Republic if these Jedi types decided to stick their noses into Hutt business. If Gortta was going to sign off on this, he was going to need certain concessions.

"I will agree to free movement through Hutt space on the condition that our people receive a detailed list of ships coming through our space at least 2 rotations before they come through. These lists should include the ship's name, it's model, its cargo, its armament, and its flight path. As long as that information is made available to our authorities, I have little problem with this proposal."

As he finished, he again took a sip of his drink, this time waiting to hear what Queen Popara had to say about this.


------------------------------
Tags: Broka the Hutt Queen Popara Jessica Med-Beq Sakadi Marathi Sinvala

 

[Molly Stellaris]

Objective 3: Dungeons & Dragons:

Normally, Rune liked a little quiet time. He'd traveled around Concord space and discovered what cities were really like. As a youngling, he'd imagined them to be places of exotic mysteries. Journeys throughout his apprenticeship had taught him that they tended to be crowded, smelly and loud.

Nar Shadda hadn't proven to be any different. In fact, it was louder, more crowded and smellier than the usual urban sprawl. This place was the wrong kind of quiet, though. And the smell was stale from years of disuse.

The fact that a building this big had been disused for so long was unimaginable to him. But he was raised without all the ostentation of the Hutt clans. To him it constituted a terrible waste of resources. This place could've housed hundreds of homeless beings.

As they reached a set of stairs leading up, Okkeus Dainlei spoke.

"The floor plans show a basement," Rune replied "But I don't see a way down. So up it is."

They mounted the stairs and the Mon Cal was speaking to his human counterpart.

"What a waste, all of this. The Hutts could choose to help those in need but...."

He stopped, mid-sentence and looked up. There had been a skittering noise coming from overhead. They'd paused and he exchanged a glance with Okkeus. When he spoke next it was in a low voice.

"I hope that's just rats."

His hand dropped to his lightsaber hilt on his belt. Rune motioned that he would go first as they reached the door at the top of the stairs. He pressed a button and nothing happened. He shrugged to Okkeus. It couldn't hurt to try.

"Okay, you cut us through, I'll go in."

He unclipped his weapon and stood ready....

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Objective Three

The skittering noise made him stop dead in his tracks. He looked up, trying to see where the noise came from. After he just found the ceiling he looked over at Rune. When he made the comment about rats Okkeus sure hoped that is was rats. And nothing else.

As the Mon Calamari motioned his hand toward the door ahead, he was already unclipping his lightsabers. This time he spilt them in half, holding one in each hand. Letting out a sigh after the button didn't work he knew what was coming next.

"Alright, I'll keep my other saber at the ready."

Using his white saber he cut a hole in the door, just like the last one. But this time there was more of a struggle, like the door was made out of stronger material. Shrugging it off he pushed out the circle, leaving an opening in it's place. Rune stepped in first, with Okkeus short behind. The glow rods barely lightened up the room. Nearly tripping he looked down to see what it was. The glow rod didn't give off enough light, so he had no clue. Thankfully a control panel was on the wall. Making his way over to it he opened it up. With a little bolt of electricity from his hand it powered up. And soon after the lights turned on.

But the sight it revealed wasn't something he was hoping for. Piles and piles of bones were scattered across the floor. They looked like they had been hear for a long time. But before he could examine them closer he heard the skittering again. This time it was much louder. Looking up he saw a sight the almost made him scream.

It was a Canyon Krayt Dragon.

Molly Stellaris

 

[Molly Stellaris]

Objective 3:

Rune stepped through into the gloom with lightsaber held ready. The room was far larger than expected and Okkeus Dainlei improvised a way to get some light. His breath caught as he saw the piles of bones. An eye moved to look at the other Jedi.

He saw the mixture of surprise and fear and his other eye snapped up to what Danlei was looking at. The Mon Cal's eyes widened as the last thing he expected stood across the way. A krayt dragon, slightly undersized, though that hardly mattered.

"I think those bones might've been the cleaners," he managed in a choked voice.

The dragon shifted causing the Jedi to step back. It shrieked its horrible cry and Rune cringed.

"We may be in a little trouble here," he said with a weak laugh.

The predator across from them shifted again. This time it was forward. Rune positioned his blue blade between them. For all the good it would do, he thought.

"So Okkeus, any ideas? My only one right now involves running away."

The dragon took another ominous step forward....

 

[Centin Tillo]

Objective 2: Survive
Location: Alley
Enemy: Serixibis

Centin looked the figure up and down as she offered him praise. Her words caused a slight smile to cross his face. That’s good. At least I fought well. The comforting thoughts were short-lived as she placed her foot on his fighting hand, forcing it to open.

He watched as she plucked his saber hilt from his hand and unstrapped the power pack at his waist. A great shame began to swell within him at the sight of her taking his weapon as he laid there, unable to do anything to prevent it. What use is a warrior without a weapon?

Surprise coursed through him as she summoned the broken spear shaft to herself, placing it in his hand. He looked down at it, trying to inspect at a distance the Sith’s former weapon. What is this? He wondered about the intent behind the gesture, if it were some act of compassion.

“Call to your allies. Tell them of your failure, and beg that they come and save you. Do this, and take our meeting as a lesson.”

Her offer before him, Centin felt his grip on the spear tighten. He lifted his head slowly, raising his mouth to the commlink. “Calling all nearby… Rangers. This is Centin Tillo. I’m… I’m injured badly. Just southwest… of the… landing point,” he sputtered out in a pained voice. “I need… immediate medical attention.”

He looked at the figure, her face somewhat obscured by crimson hair. Her frame was silhouetted against the harsh neon lights of the alley creating an ominous visage. He tried to engrave in his mind everything about her that he could. “I told you… my name. Now I need… yours,” his final request signaling his commitment to live and continue fighting. “I will… earn back... my saber… by defeating you. I swear it.” His eyes steeled in determination, meeting her gaze with resolved intent.

 

[Serixibis]

//. Nar Shaddaa, Alleys.
//. Centin Tillo

The Protosaber was a crude and bulky device, archaic by almost all standards except her own. Even so only the crystal within the weapon was of use, the rest could be repurposed easily enough to something less restrictive with a bit of tinkering after it was secured on Korriban.

And myself along with it.

With a heavy step she slithers away from Centin, walking backward and keeping her eyes on the fallen warrior as she paces slowly around him. The neon haze of the street signs forming a peculiar halo of light around the sable and scarlet of her figure as she pulls up her hood, wincing slightly as the cooked flesh along her right forearm splits open anew.

“I told you… my name. Now I need… yours,”
​

An exasperated huff comes from bloodless lips as she turns in place, glaring over her shoulder with those vile eyes of oily amber. Hand lofts and waves inward, perhaps for dramatic effect as she indicates herself.

"Serixibis. I told you when this trial began but you were too busy focusing on your weakness to remember. Do so now, and know that I look forward to our next meeting."​

With that the Warrior departs, leaving Centin to be found by his comrades...or die cold and alone on the streets of Nar Shaddaa.

 

[Willow & Ivy]

Objective: 1

Willow and Ivy continued to watch the negotiations take place. Or rather, they just listened. Their eyes carried a distant look as they tuned themselves into the Force. There were many strands like spiderwebs connecting everyone in the room. The twins chose to follow different ones, just to catch glimpses of possible outcomes of this meeting.

As always, they looked out for Broka the Hutt . He housed them, fed them and clothed them. So he was their first priority. Food was his priority, and there was always going to be an abundance of it for him. So that wasn't a worry. The worry lay in the Jedi and the monsters. Just how good would one keep the other at bay? That was still to be discovered.

 

[Tulan Kor]

"Violent men, meet violent ends. But in between that, that's where legacies are made, gentlemen." - Setter Ryburn
​

Dorn Company
Objective Two----->Objective One (Sort of)


Dorn Company stood silent, pissed off. Equally pissed off. Tulan looked over at the Hutt Soldiers, standing around, bemoaning that the Rangers weren't letting them take the spoils from their petty gang war. There was a Lieutenant there. Bigger than the rest. Stupid. Arrogant. Violent.

Tulan let his rifle hang, walking up to the large brute of a Hutt enforcer. His hands twisted, reaching to his wrist. A garrote wire came into his hands, and the rest of Dorn company followed suit, dispatching the Hutt soldiers that they were fighting alongside with in a manner of seconds.

Tulan wrapped the wire around the astonished Lieutenant's neck from behind as Dorn Company, one of the finest, most experienced units in the galaxy lay waste to the scum-sucking criminal dogs that were only good at making short work of Gangs. Tulan leaned into the choking Lieutenant's ear.

"Listen here you little shit. You're done. Your whole crew is done, done strong-arming people."

Tulan threw him on the ground.

Tulan held out his hand and asked for a knife.

Pinning down the Lieutenant, cursing Dorn Company, Tulan held his head up.

Tulan threw the consortium of Hutt Soldiers and Enforcers, low-level goons, puffing on a cigar with his right hand, while his left hand, not clasping the rifle laid across his chest, held the actual head of the Lieutenant. The Rangers piled the bodies from their respective objectives- some great many dozen Hutt soldiers that they killed, and the gangs they were sent to quell. The Rangers had dispatched every enemy of the Hutts, and then- killed a fair number of the Hutt soldiers that they were accompanying.

Tulan held tightly the head in his hands, watching the fire start to light. They were burning it all. Weapons. Credits. Drugs. Blackmail. Smuggling codes. Computers. Alcohol. Just set ablaze. The Rangers stood tall, watching the fire, shoulder to shoulder. They sent a message, to a lot of people, in a few brief moments of intense, hateful violence. That they would not stand for the Hutt's activities. That they were not the Hutt's lackeys. That they would not compromise, even in the face of the enemy, the Bryn'daul.

Dorn Company faced the Bryn'daul, and came out on top.

The Hutts could not say the same.

Tulan puffed on his cigar, watching the fires light across the landscape, from his perched position atop the assault bird, resting on a rooftop after the brutality of the night. He'd alone take the brunt of the response from the Silver Jedi, but this was something that Dorn, and Tulan, felt like needed to be done.