Dominion Black Boots | GI Dominion of Anaxes |

[Kiber Dorn]

Objective 1: The Violence Inherent in the System
Not Nice Ladies at All: Amaris Tanenat Gala Geert ​

What was what?!

Kiber was befuddled, usually, women placed their disgust in him far sooner than this. It was his gaunt and pointed face that usually did it, or the chat-up lines, or his impressive level of incoherent intoxication or sometimes the smell. Man, things aren't looking up there, buddy.

He looked down.

“OH!”

Those weren't his. Those weren't even human. Not only had Kiber Dorn misplaced his trousers, but he had apparently also misplaced his boxers. For what covered his crotch was a horrifying hot pink, bejewelled and intricate spectacle of a woman's thong, which unbeknownst to the pair of them, was nothing but mere string at the back, proudly revealing his moderately hair bottom to the rest of the store.

Hope they're not Barbara's.

“I can exp- no...actually I got nothin'...honestly...”

Then it, unfortunately, devolved into violence (as these things tended to do). He was tugged downwards, which gave way to panic, which gave way to mass flailing. His other arm flapped like a wacky waving inflatable tube man, his head thrashing about like a fish before the killing blow. This was actually beneficial, as the strike that would have incapacitated him instead hit his nose, breaking it with an almighty crack.

“ARGH! NOT AGAIN!”

He bravely attempted to run, the blood beginning to drain from the gnarly cut upon his nose but he forgot two things. The first was that she was still holding onto his wrist, and the second was that he had a pair of pants around his ankle. So instead of running, he fell, potentially dragging the woman down with him.

 

[Ryv]

"This is the worst day ever, dude" Ryv grumbled to himself as he shut his eyes. If he was gonna die, he'd rather not see it coming. It probably be easier that way. Fortunately, death never came. His descent slowed enough he even managed to open his eyes to see the welcoming embrace of snow as his body plunged three feet deep into the soft substance. His body slowed and eventually stopped entirely, leaving him physically unharmed. His pride? Well, that was another story entirely. One he didn't want to consider. Instead, Ryv awkwardly shifted on his side and reached up to grasp Cedric's gauntleted hand. The larger man's strength did the work for him as the smaller Kiffar was practically pulled out of the hole and set onto his feet. "Yeah, thanks for that one, chief."

The padawan reached out to weakly slam a closed fist into his master's armored chest. So little power was behind the flimsy maneuver, it be surprising if the Imperator even noticed his apprentice's complaint. Before Ryv could lodge another, the sound of a pun caught his attention. He turned, laughing at the joke only to stop suddenly as Loske Treicolt came into view. Ryv quickly shifted so Cedric's towering form kept the Kiffar out of sight for the moment. He hurriedly brushed as much snow off of his jacket and out of his hair as possible before looking up at Cedric.

"Who is that?!" Ryv's voice was a rushed whisper. "You have this smoking hot babe here with you and you sent me up the mountain?! Not cool at all, man. Not cool!" he stepped around his hulking mentor and approached Loske as Jegy Sesara began putting on his epic show of the force. "Hey there, name's Ryv. I didn't know the Imperator had other peeps tagging along, what should I call you?" he tried desperately not to appear as awkward as he felt, but hell, sometimes you gotta shoot your shot.

Alyson Halle | P Placeholder 0128 | Dak​

 

[Gala Geert]

Objective I: Another one bites the dust
Must bonk: Kiber Dorn
Innocent bystander, but started it: Amaris Tanenat ​

Fist met face, which was not supposed to happen! Heel of hand was supposed to meet neck. This orientation was all wrong, and just as they'd been standing, in a flurry of frantic motions, Gala wasn't able to let go in time and lost her arm beneath the weight of the alleged ruffian. She tumbled to the ground with the pantsless felon.

"Woa--OAAH! KArk!"

His momentum meant they'd both fallen headsies-to-headsies, but her hand was trapped beneath him, wrenching her shoulder unnaturally behind her. Her free hand just barely acted as a cushion for her face between the tile, and a sharp pain shot up through her wrist. Her chin cracked against the back of her hand, and her head almost bounced. That was unexpected. And unwelcome.

No time to waste, though! There were credits on the clock.

Her jaw was radiating with pain, and she hnnnngg'd herself up to the palms of her hands, rising to tabletop, and then scooching over toward the booty. Like, booty to make money off and booty with peach fuzz. Doing her best not to look at the so-far-from-centrefold's exposure, she maneuvered behind him, using her knee to pin him down in the back of his spine and reaching for a random mask that was hanging nearby.

Quickly, she yanked it apart, releasing the tie that someone would use to fasten the faux face over their own. The string were no stun cuffs, but she could still grabby-hands reach for Kiber's wrists again and try to tie them up with this string.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Objective 1: Shed All Dignity
Terrible People: Amaris Tanenat Gala Geert ​

It was a beautiful disaster.

Their bodies, or more correctly their heads were momentarily bested by the floor, as while the woman chinned herself, Kiber stuck to the more traditional method of just smashing his victimised nose against the tile, further hastening the flow of crimson from his broken beak.

Why did this always happen? Why was it always his nose? He couldn't even remember what it originally looked like. Was he once the prettiest boy at the ball?

Being very hungover junkie didn't grant the fastest reaction times and before Dorn could even think about getting up and having a second attempt at fleeing there was a knee in his back. No, not like this! Not with his trousers down and in a mystery thong! Where was his dignity?! Well, okay, it left a while ago but still!

“I'VE GOT A WIFE!” Kiber lied in protest as his hands were tied together behind his back, bringing back an unfortunate bondage related mishap that turned out to be a clever robbery racket.

“AND KIDS!”

Dear Force, I hope not.

He wriggled and wiggled, his legs (still with trousers around the ankles) tried to kick backwards and catch her in the back but it would likely just be more of an annoyance.

“AND A DOG!”

He did always want another dog. He'd been holding onto a name for a great many years now. Scoops. If he ever got a dog i-

Oh, right. More pressing issues.

“THINK OF POOR SCOOPS! WAITING FOR HIS MASTER WHO NEVER CAME HOME!”

Stop thinking about the dog, man! He's not even real!

 

[Dak]

Anaxes // Undisclosed Location // Approaching the Vulptereen Insurgency's Compound
Objective: 2 - Scouting the Hostile Compound
Tags: P Placeholder 0128 Loske Treicolt Alyson Halle Jegy Sesara Ryv

---

The heavy droid trudges through the knee-high snow, carving a small path through the thick crust that's formed on top of it. Having separated from the main group to avoid detection on his approach, Dak is wearing a simple white hooded poncho over his body to better conceal himself against the terrain.

Tucked under the cover of the camouflage, the droid clings to his trusty BR-212 with the barrel just poking out from underneath. He was nearing the location that had been provided to them now. It had taken a few precarious climbs, but as an inorganic being it was easier for him to disregard the ailments of the frigid cold. Fortunately for him, fatigue was not a concern and in the current temperature it would likely take a few days of exposure before he saw damage to his systems or hardware. Not an issue.

Dak keeps his profile low as he approaches another cliff edge. The combination of his ghillie and the height of the snow easily conceal his form as reaches the top and the horizon opens up to him, revealing the relatively simple compound below. He spots three guards gathered near the large sealed blast doors. From it's size, it appears to be either the compounds loading bay or garage. Surprisingly, no weapons emplacements are evident to the droid's photoreceptors or sensor suite. Although Dak does quickly notice something curious.

​

<Master Cedric,> Dak's modulated voice comes over the squad's encrypted comm-frequency <I've located the insurgent base. The facility itself seems defensible, but I'm not seeing much fortification.> The droid adjusts himself to be laying in the snow, shuffling his rifle up to brace it on the bank in front of him. Looking through the Jackal's scope confirms his observation absolutely; the armoured and bundled up men guarding the site are clearly near-humans from their body proportions <The intel S.I.A. provided seems to be accurate, Master. Their numbers must be dwindling, as it appears they've hired mercenaries.>

 

[Alyson Halle]

"Roger that Cedric." Alyson said, dialing the half that she would take on her ontrol pad, sending them orders through D-Tek. The team here was equipped to climb things rather well. She would be able to climb up the cliffside in due time. As she made her way around the cliffside the team began to thin out as they began to shuffle over thinner and thinner walkways, before finally ending up on the other end of the cliff face.

The team took out their grapple launchers before firing them into the side of the compound. They began to collectively ascend the walls before silently landing on the ground next to the compound. As expected, the area was near barren. She would simply need to break her way in and clear it out.

Her team split into two parts, one would clear around the back and subdue the mob of executioners, she would take a team to secure the base itself. She kind of wished that she could clear the whole thing before Cedric even made it up here, but she knew herself that was probably wishful thinking.

Nonetheless it was time to get work.

 

[Amaris Tanenat]

Green girl was not a talker, Amaris figured that out quickly. And in truth, she liked her but that didn't mean she'd trust her. Blue eyes watched the woman carefully with a sigh. Maybe she'd at least get a few credits by enlisting Gala Geert 's assistance in hunting down the old lady puncher dude.

Anyone and their brother could tell she wasn't from here... Nonetheless, she took the paper back as Gala practically shoved it back at her. Amaris immediately caught the person who was smirking about in her eye sight - but Gala was already tapping on his back.

Naturally, Amaris stood next to the aisle as she peered around. Her eyes were wide as she watched the scene unfold before her. And man, did it unfold quickly.

"That's the problem with these human and human-look-alikes," Amaris mused quietly to herself, completely ignoring the fact that she was quite a human-look-alike herself. Always charging into things instead of planning the hunt. Or at least being somewhat sneaky. She should've just tackled him or something.

Some commentary between them and Amaris gasped as her eyes caught the... Thong. What in the... This guy needed some serious help. Or maybe he was just weird like that. Could Amaris really judge someones kinks? But a wife and kids? And a dog? Pfft, dogs were way overrated. Bark, bark, woof, woof. Not that she supported humans having pet cats, either, oh no. So disrespectful. "A dog would run away, they got more sense..."

Grabbing a glass plate that, coincidentally, had ears and was generally shaped and painted like a dog.

And pow! She smashed it down to hit him right smack dead in the head. And if it hit, she'd huff with her fur puffed out. "Dogs dead," she muttered.

Kiber Dorn

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Pride was a fault to be avoided by Jedi, but Loske couldn’t help feeling it when there was at least some recognition to the humourous effort. Jegy’s apathy and Cedric’s disdain were suppressed by a distant laugh, and that was all she needed.

With Jegy Sesara on the curved bark, and operating it himself, Loske rose to stand and follow along. The display from the centuries-old fellow was impressive, and she set some private ambitions aside. Meanwhile, the fellow that had fallen from above seemed fine, and after a few moments of seclusion behind P Placeholder 0128 he meandered over to herself and the Sullustan, and however many Son’s of Ession had remained a part of their huddle, and not gone with Alyson Halle .

The introductory question from Ryv begged her to respond with not late for dinner but the more serious folk probably required some recovery time from the previous one-liner, so she mentally stuffed it.

“Great entrance Ryv, our judges give you a six out of ten.” She looked backward to the Essonians that remained for some level of support, as if indicating that their somber selves were the participatory judges, but she was met with contemptful silence. This was far too inefficient for them.

“I’m Loske.” She extended a gloved hand in his direction by way of salutations. There was a single, distinct marking on his face and she was immediately intrigued. “You’re a kiffar.” Her observation was blatant. Her Kiffar senses were tingling. Her extension paused. “Maybe if we shake hands it’ll cause a psychometeric explosion.” A grin. "Let's try it."

 

[Ryv]

"A six out of ten, huh?" Ryv leaned to his right, looking past Loske Treicolt towards the trio behind her. "Best I'm getting for that flop, I'll take it," his gloved hand mirroring her movement, abruptly stopping as she paused. He mentally traced her line of sight to the vertical strip of red that crossed from directly below his right eyebrow to the jawline. It wasn't anything special to most, but to another Kiffar it marked him of his clan. A stark reminder of his recent years without his old man. In most circumstances, it likely be enough to crash his vibe. Though his life was saved and he was still standing, which was helpful in keeping the smile on his face.

"I haven't met many other Kiffars since I took off from home a few years back. Jedi life and all," his smile grew into a goofy-looking grin at the second joke. "You know what? Why the hell not? Sounds like a chill time to me," Ryv tugged the glove off of his right hand before once more reaching his hand out to her's for a shake. "The explosion might end this job and get us sent home early, to be honest."

Momentarily, the padawan looked past Loske once more to watch Alyson Halle and her team begin scaling the mountain. He made a mental note before looking back to Loske.

Things were looking as good as they could, given how he arrived in the first place.

P Placeholder 0128 | Jegy Sesara​

 

[Placeholder 0128]

He was glad no one was dead, at the very least. he took a step back as the two padawans conversed, keen on letting them get to know one another as he charted his course. It wouldn't be a terribly long walk, though he was almost certain the Vulptereens would take note of them. Hopefully ALyson's plan to scale the wall worked in their favor.

"Just let us know if your wounds are too much of a bother," Cedric quipped to Jegy as he turned toward the mountain, drawing in a deep breath as he mentally prepared for the climb.

"Let's get a move on before they come down here. I'd rather catch them on the defensive." Vulptereens were stupid when they attacked, but it made them dangerous. They'd be far easier to deal with if they were being pushed.
'

 

[Gala Geert]

Objective 1
Kiber Dorn / Amaris Tanenat ​

Surprised was one way to speak to the re-introduction of the cat-girl. It must have been the dog comment that'd been a trigger.

"Great shot, kitty." Gala grumbled, tightening the ropes on the boy's wrists to the point where she felt satisfied enough to give him a hoist upward.

"Seventy-thirty split sound okay to you?"

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Objective 1: Oppressed by the Plateriarchy
Monstrous Women: Amaris Tanenat Gala Geert ​

Usually, the mention of a pet was enough to garner some sympathy, which made sense. I mean, children? They're not great. They're loud, sticky, irrational and worst of all, they became adults. Would you give mercy to somebody with a child? No! Or maybe his fear of responsibility was adding a negative tinge upon that subject.

Needless to say, Kiber Dorn didn't have a wife, a child or a dog. So, this was all inconsequential anyway.

Maybe he would get a dog though? A loyal companion, a furry tripsitter, a four-legged beast that loved beyond consequence. Wouldn't that be nice? Oh, who was he kidding, this life was too wild and unpredictable to be getting hapless animals involv-

Wait, why was he considering this right now?! The knee of vigilante justice was in his back at that moment!

There was a notion of survival within him to use the Force to get out of this bind, it wasn't a notion that sat well with him, he already had a twang of guilt about changing the course of the Ugnaught's life. Felt wrong. Like wicked meddling. Who was he to play god? His inner considerations hadn't noticed the fox-woman hybrid on the menacing approach with a large glass plate.

“LOOK! I-I just need you to kno-”

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES. PLEASE STAND BY.​

 

[Amaris Tanenat]

Well, he was knocked out at least. Granted, the plate was broken. And he'd probably have a pretty bad headache, after all. And he was still alive. That was a huge plus. Would've sucked to kill the guy, but he was putting up way too much of a fight. Kiber Dorn was knocked out and soundly sleeping. Maybe he'd get some serious help by the authorities - a mental institution, perhaps?

Amaris naturally smiled at the compliment. Great shot, indeed. "I do what I do," she mused quietly as she helped get the boy up. Seventy-thirty split? Yeah, she guessed that was fine. Gala Geert did have to go through some things to get him on the ground... Not to mention, she had saw some things way closer than Amaris did.

"Yeah, seventy-thirty sounds good," she said with a nod of agreement. "I think the station is close," she commented quietly as she waved for Gala to follow her.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Yeah, me either."

Likewise, Loske removed her glove and exposed the skin beneath before shoving any apprehensions to her suggestion away. She extended her palm to meet Ryv 's.

For a second, nothing happened.

Half a breath later, the suggestion of her intent fired off a kaleidoscopic sensation of fractals in her mind's eye.

If Ryv's psychometric abilities were on par, he'd witness something similar. The nature of reading objects was to pull relevant associations as said surface traipsed through a journey. It ultimately rendered as projections to a series of choppy events through Loske's travels. Largely uninteresting, save for the method of communication itself.

It would start at looking at Jegy's form caked within the snow, ricocheting backward with terrific hues and gauze to the ship with The Son's of Ession, boarding the ship from Coruscaunt, and even further backward to a dance of silhouettes with lightsabers, clashing blue and yellow practicing in preparation for the upcoming mission, further still, random images infused from underground Coruscaunt. The timeline was blurred now, less linear, and the patchwork of imagery was just starting to surface whatever it could, feeding the memory seeking machine that was the Kiffar Padawan.