Campaign &nbsp; Black Flag

Alessandra Creed Danielle Mueller

The Sovereign planet of Illyria had enjoyed it's share of prosperity in the past few years. A prosperity that came from the end of it's isolationist period and the promise of a growing economy. For most Illyrians this was something to look forward to, something to celebrate. However not all saw the actions of the Crown as something to rejoice. Not all had forgotten it was the Crown that landed the once proud planet into it's recession to begin with. Of all those who remembered the crimes of the Crown, there was no one more filled with hate than Jean le'Black, or the Black Baron. Jean had spent his entire life in exile far away from a planet he had never stepped so much as a foot on and for what? Because his family had chosen to stand against the Kings of the past? Because they fought against tyranny and oppression?

Jean spat down on the deck of The King's Collar as he thought of the events that led his family to what they were now. Pirates. That was what the Nobility of Illyria had dubbed them. Thieves who were more befitting exile than the warmth of a hearth granted to them by blood right. "A pirate they make me, a pirate I shall be." Jean declared as he sank into the throne that was crafted in the main hold of his precious freighter. Jean himself was a youthful and handsome man, not yet out of his thirties with dusty blonde-brown hair that fell over the back of his hair in charming curls. His eyes were an ocean shade of blue and he wore a black and gold cloak with a matching surcoat crafted in traditional Illyrian fashion.

The 'throne' was crafted from a gaudy, yet sturdy material which closely resembled gold. A number of wires plugged into the back of the seat, providing an uplink to the holotable before the man. The Captain's hand brushed over a datapad embedded into the chair and suddenly the entire room went dark, only the holotable giving off a bright golden glow, flashing over the young man's features. Suddenly two figures appeared before Black, hovering over the Holotable. The first was a young Twi'lek woman with a nervous expression on her face, the next a stout Wookie whose crossed arms and anxious shifting could be clearly seen through the hologram.

"Are we ready?" Jean asked pointedly, his lips curling into an expectant smile.

The Wookie was the first to voice his acknowledgement with a hoarse roar falling from his throat. Yet, Black was fluent in the beast's language and only chuckled in response to his friend's roar. He waved his hand at him to attempt and calm the beast's nerves. "No no, not yet. Amelia will make the first move. Right Amelia?" He asked, his eyes turning to the Twi'lek woman who pressed a hand to her brow as if to steady herself. "Yes, yes of course. The upload has completed and we should be ready in under an hour. As long as Torok is in position there shouldn't be any trouble." She answered, her nerves seemingly stilled from Black's simple question. "But Jean...we won't have long. The network has some holes in it but they'll figure out what's going on in....ten minutes, twelve tops." She said, speaking expressively with her hands.

"Don't worry about that. This is just about sending a message." He said calmingly. "Torok you make sure you pull out before they realize what's going on. If you don't then I won't be able to do anything for you." He warned. The Wookie, Torok growled back in acknowledgement before leaning forward, it quickly became obvious that he was cutting the feed as his form fizzled away into a golden mist. Jean turned to Amelia, nodding his head at her encouragingly. She said nothing, yet she did return his nod with a smile before she too cut the connection.

Jean smiled softly to himself, reclining in his throne as his eyes glanced out of a nearby viewport. In the distance Illyria, the world that had thrown his family aside like dirt, revealed itself. With a small smile he could not help but speak out softly. "I'm coming for what's mine." He muttered in an almost teasing tone.

Adron Malvern · Oct 20, 2020

BLACK FLAG

Tags:

The morning had been well spent. After a much needed breakfast with

Alessandra Creed , Adron and his beloved had traveled to the Orbital Defense Platform that the King had dubbed, L'enfer. It had been a massive project that was undertaken almost immediately after the man ascended to the throne. Now the project was in it's first full month of operation and so far it was operating perfectly.

Adron stood in the Command Center of L'enfer with his wife. They'd received the monthly brief and while everything looked to be in order the man could not help but review some of the official paperwork himself. He'd commandeered the Commander's Office for himself and his eyes flitted from one paper to another as he checked them for inconsistencies. "If I were to receive a credit for every page that held a spelling error then our riches would be incomparable." He spoke out to his wife, sliding a paper across the desk for her own input. "Those numbers seem off. Can you review this one for me?" He asked her, before activating his datapad that sat on the desk. "Although the logistics behind it was sloppily done...it's going well." He finally decided.

The King looked up to the small entourage that awaited outside the office. Of course, he was accompanied by his Royal Guard and even a number of his wife's Guardian Handmaidens had joined them, yet there were others he'd brought to this venture. His youngest and promising apprentice, Danielle Mueller . His amethyst eyes passed over his apprentice before he summoned her. "Danielle." He looked to his wife before running a hand across his well shaven chin.

"Can we afford to begin Starship production this year?" He asked.

Alessandra was many things. Tactful, wise, illustrious, beautiful, ruthless, beautifully ruthless. All of these were wonderful little gifts she'd been bestowed or had bred into her and they made her an effective Queen and partner. However, the one talent she held in spades above her husband was her ability to control numbers. Like a puppeteer she wove them together in a logistical web and forced them to dance at her behest. Without Alessandra, most of the programs and projects that Adron had implemented would not have found funding for years, perhaps even decades.

It was with her by his side that any of it was possible.

Yes, L'enfer's primary function was war, to defend Illyria from invasion, however it was also tasked to construct warships.

Warships we desperately need. The King remarked in the back of his mind. He did not act on his thoughts and instead concede to the point his wife would present.

He turned his eyes to his apprentice and held the datapad on the desk out to her. "You'll see to it that this is properly secured. When we return planet side deliver it to the Office of the Armed Forces for safekeeping. Have it properly classified." The Office of the Armed Forces, Adron practically sighed as he recalled that there was yet more work to be done. Essentially forty percent of Illyria's military and economic infrastructure were being held up by edicts that the King had enacted to ensure production and progression. Yet most of these edicts were in need of reform and replacement with more stable structures of law and order.

Adron stood from the desk. He smoothed down the lapels of his ebony and azure suit before turning his eyes to

Freyu Molidias , a member of his guard who he'd tasked just outside of his office. "Call the pilot and have our shuttle prepared for takeoff." He told the woman before holding a hand out to Alessandra, wishing to bring her close. It was in that moment that the Dark Side bled a chilling wind down his spine. His amethyst eyes surged for a single moment and the calm hand that had been outstretched to Alessandra wrapped around her protectively. "Did you-" He started to ask before his eyes glanced around searchingly. That was when he turned to

Freyu Molidias and Danielle Mueller once again.

"Arm yourselves." He said softly, as if his mind was somewhere else. His hand slowly drifted down to the lightsaber that rested upon the side of his belt, his fingers rolling over the cool steel.

Xobos Yakieer · Oct 20, 2020

Location: Illyria, Garde Noire, Beacon Castle.
Equipment: Miralukan Eye Mask, Training outfit
Mental state: Silent.
Tags: |

Cali Ziiva |

The High Court of Illyria |

Crack.

White, hot pain exploded across her skull, blinding her for just a moment. Instinct had her quickly hopping backwards despite the fact she could not see. Pain, pain, pain, the only thought that managed to break through in those moments. The time more than likely seemed longer to her, for it was only seconds before her vision cleared, able to see the pair of guards wielding a pair of escrimas each. One was grinning wide, happy to have scored a point and land a solid hit on the Sieur of the region. They were the first to do so that night, and one of the best hits landed since these gathers had begun.

Every few nights within the Beacon Castle’s training room, typically reserved for when Xobos, Leven, and Cali went through training together or when the guards held a class, the room would be filled to the brim with all the focus squarely on the circle in the middle. There, guards would engage in few holds barred fights while everyone else wagered on their expense. Food rations, favors, even credits found themselves being put in the pot for each fight. But it wasn’t until when one of the one of the four highest in the castle stepped into the ring, being the guard captain Graval Tennit, Leven, Cali, and of course, the Sieur herself, Xobos, that the pot truly started to get interested.

This was Xobos’ third match of the night, and the exhaustion was starting to get to her. It was partly why the two guards in front of her had been able to feint her into a opening which allowed them to strike. While the hit did make her proud, seeing how their training was starting to pay off, the strike had only heightened the crowd’s noise and jeering. Not only that, but in the side of her vision, she could see her apprentice getting in on the fun. Holding her hand up for just a moment, she turned to look at the girl, sitting close by to the pink alien xobos lucky enough to have here. “Apprentice..” She paused, just long enough to turn her head to the side and spit out a mouthful of blood. They really had gotten her good. “Make sure no one is changing their bets now, they were final 2 minutes ago.”

Rotating her shoulders, Xobos gave the wooden staff in her hands a spin as she turned back to the guards, beckoning them forward as the room reached a fever pitch once more. The hit they landed earlier seemingly had the woken the Knight up, dodging the first strike easily and blocking the other with a swipe of her staff downward. His partner, now off balance, tried to maneuver out of the way of the second as he charged forward, but didn’t move far enough that when Xobos deflected the second guards strike, it ended up cracking against the first’s head, sending them sprawling to the floor. The momentary look of shock toward his friend, whom he had just hit, sealed the second guards fate, as the sith quickly exploited it to strike at his forehead with the blunt end of her staff, knocking him to the ground next to his partner.

“Seiur Yakieer wins!” The guard captain called out, sending the room into a mix of cheers of the men whom had just won the pot, and boos of those who had lost, mostly directed at the pair of guards on the floor. Bad idea to bet against a sith once she got woken up. For her part, she helped the men up, gave them a smile, then proceeded over to where her apprentice and Cali had been sitting among the guards. “Alright, who’s up next,” she called to them, reaching down to grab a towel and dab her forehead with it. “I need a break after three.” Her gaze looked up to linger on her apprentice, whom had grown in her skill with a blade ever since they began to train together. She was proud of her progress, and these nights were some of the best to truly test it in a safe…ish, environment.

But then, there a was pause, a change on the sith’s face. Something was not right. There was something causing a ripple in the force that surrounded the planet. Turning to her companions once more, her brows furrowed as thoughts began to form at what was happening.

“Did you two feel that?”

Leven Jeyd · Oct 21, 2020

Location: Phare du Chateau, Garde Noir, Illyria.
Equipment: Daggers.
Tagging:

Xobos Yakieer ~

Cali Ziiva

She sat atop a pile of three empty barrels, thick, curved planks that still smelt like the fine wine that had once been stored within them. One leg bent, heel resting on the border of the barrel and the other hanging comfortably at the side. Before the fight began, the young changeling had been calling to the mass of soldiers and guards that made up the sea of people around her - loud, confident voice of a showman like only someone of her background could produce - inspiring even the most stingy and miserly of the lot to fish out the credits from their pockets and bet.

Cramped with her on the small surface of the barrel were a pile of credits, another for food rations and another for favors. She was so comfortable in the reduced space that it seemed that keeping that order and the ever-increasing height of the small piles was effortless. Leven had been the one to orchestrate the gambling, bringing added entertainment to the guards for a meager commission.

However, that was not all. Below her, on top of an astray table, there were trinkets and tools and another pile of credits. Not every soldier had credits readily at hand, and how could she ever leave them out of all the fun? No. So Leven, far from being just a gamboleer, had set up her own version of a makeshift pawn shop. Ever intrigued by the most bizarre of things, the guards would bring objects for her to peruse and - should she find them worthy of taking back to her room to be forever abandoned in some corner and form part of her hoard - she would...exchange the item for some of her own credits.

The beauties of monopoly.

The sound of a hit colliding against flesh could be heard clearly across the whole training room ad the guards managed to land a blow on the Sieur. Crystal-colored eyes widened and an amazed grin stretched the lips of the Jester, "HA!" She had not been expecting that. While the hate she held for the Miraluka had considerably withered - it would be too much to ask Leven not to be amused when a fair, clean, safe hit managed to find its way onto the Sith's face. Still, besides the surprise, Leven was still confident on what the result of this fight would be.

And it seemed as though Xobos was too, for she had founda moment to remind Leven that no takebacksies were permitted. With a smirk, the Jester bowed her head in agreement before her eyes shot like arrows towards a burly guard that was coming towards her with an angry look. Leven could smell his intentions from a mile away. "Vous avez entendu le Sieur, asseyez-vous." The singsonged voice of the Nar Shadda native reached him before he could even speak, the darkish influence of the changeling weaven itself into the mind of the guard to make him complacent. Her Illyrian was getting better.

Soon enough, Xobos found her counter and the two guards went down. She made quick work of giving each of the guards their corresponding earnings and prodding some of those who had found themselves on the losing team. After, all her own credits and the items that had found themselves onto her hands that night went to rest all together inside a...bag. Disorder made bone and flesh. After, the impish apprentice swung the bag over her shoulder and grabbed a hold of an abandoned jug of water before sashaying towards Cali and Xobos - handing the latter the jug before popping herself down on the very floor, legs crossed and bag greedily nestled between her arms.

"I'm thinking that if we face off Jacques against Roland on next Friday night, I'll be-" The rambling about her upcoming plans as the de facto orchestrator of gambling night was cut short when that bothersome tendril of wrongness wrapped around her - bidding her to be alert and on guard. Her nose scrunched up and the pale skin she could no longer change rippled in discomfort. She now knew that this meant something was not right. There was danger looming...but it didn't feel precisely close - this was different.

Cali Ziiva · Oct 21, 2020

Location: Illyria, Garde Noire, Beacon Castle
Countenance: Excite
Attire: Alluring
Mood: Cute

"Go, go, Xoxo!" A pink fist pumped into the air as the festivities began. The Zeltron sat atop a high perch with a toothy grin spreading her lips apart. 'Course she'd put in a wager too. Actually had to cut her wager down; apparently she'd been willing to bet 'too much.' Well, had to work with what others had and there was no bank to cover the shortfall here. Credits weren't really the point. More just supporting her cutey. People were welcome to bet against Xobos because there was a big pot if such people won. Their problem was they weren't going to win.

The next round, and the round after each had a higher stake put forth. Cali milled about the crowd ribbing them into 'just a little more' after all Xobos was getting worn down by all the hard work, and people had a chance to come out on top. You know, if they won. Which they wouldn't. But there was nothing that said a Zeltron had to be forthcoming -- or even tell the truth, to be fair. People were free to bet or not bet as they saw fit; she just gave them a little extra motivation to bet.

Even when one of them got a good blow on her Xobos, Cali's grin didn't budge. In fact, the pink woman cheered again. "You got 'em, Xoxo!" But, like, keep your guard up, she added silently. A sore and tired fighter was nice to pamper, but a battered one was no fun for anyone. Not even when you could use the Force to heal injuries.

The pink bush atop her head flopped a bit to the side when Xobos spat out blood though. Cali still grinned because she had confidence, but seemed like the hit had been more than the Zeltron would have liked. Might start getting 'ideas' if she didn't already know her Miraluka was about to turn things around.

Giggles followed the quick win by the Sith apprentice. Cali waved and accepted her winnings gracefully. They could go grump about pheromones or whatever they wanted to blame for getting taken to the 'cleaners.' Most people really didn't get 'it.' Like, when a Zeltron got inside someone's head you knew it. Well, maybe not in the moment, but afterward you totally went 'what was I thinking?' You probably weren't, actually. Lots of instinct involved. Not that thinking was bad, but it really held people back from fun sometimes.

With a hop off her perch, Cali bounced over to meet Xobos. "Hey there, hot stuff."

Before they could get to chatting though, Xobos went all contemplative and Jester looked on guard. A few quick blinks and Cali stared at the Miraluka for just a second. "Huh? Oh, that disturbance in the Force? Happens all the time. Though," the tip of her finger touched her hips as her eyes slid off to the side, "that did seem a lot closer than most."

Tag:

The High Court of Illyria

Andromeda Malvern · Oct 22, 2020

L O C A T I O N | Aboard The King's Collar

T A G S |

Adron Malvern -

Alessandra Creed -

Xobos Yakieer -

Leven Jeyd -

Cali Ziiva

When The King’s Collar was drifting slowly through the inky blackness of space, Andromeda found it best to stay in her rooms. Beyond often finding herself sick at the prospect of space travel, she mostly got in everyone’s way. Nobody dared attempt to teach her anything, to go out of their way to make her useful, they mostly just left her alone until they could find somewhere halfway decent to land. Fortunately, that was just how Andromeda liked it.

The soft hum of voices drifted through the corridors, echoing loudly off the walls until they sounded tinny and strange. Despite this irritating distortion, she could still pick out every word. They tried to keep it quiet, never raising their voices beyond a soft shout, but she could hear all the same. The all too familiar rumble of Jean, followed by the confident titter of Amelia. They were planning something. The details of which Andromeda was not party too, but she needed no details to know what would happen next. White silk shifted about her legs as she drew them up to her chest and set her chin atop her knees.

Soon, she would no doubt feel the vibrations of battle coursing through the ship’s foundations. Soon, she would likely smell the mold as the disturbance peeled it away from the walls. Soon, she would hear the electronic hiss of the lock on her door sliding securely into place. They never let her out when they made pit stops to fight or pillage. Truth be told, Andromeda was not sure she wanted to be let out. Even in the silence of space, battle sounded terrifying. The tensed tones emitting from the crew, the atmosphere you could cut with a sponge, the ever-encroaching realization that she was one well placed shot away from facing the unforgiving atmosphere held back by a few inches of metal.

It was not until the silence in the conversation was broken by Jean’s muttered tone that Andromeda realized there was something different about this raid. This was something personal for the son of the man who had rescued her from certain death. She could hear it in the heavy rise and fall of the breaths that followed.

Curiosity got the better of her, and her mind began to wonder. The crew held many grudges, for many reasons, but none of them seemed to Andromeda to be personal. They were petty grudges. Over territory or money owed or who killed who first, but this? Andromeda had grown used to his voice, grown accustomed to the fluctuations in it and what they meant. She had never heard her adoptive brother sound like this before. Just as she began to work up the courage to creep toward the door to see if she could hear anything further, the lock slid into place. Whatever it was they were doing was beginning, and Andromeda was not invited.

Instead, she did what she always did and flopped back heavily onto the stiff bunk in her room. Sleep would come soon, and hopefully, it would stay with her throughout the madness.

Alessandra Creed · Oct 23, 2020

B L A C K F L A G

Location: L'enfer Command Center
Tags: Andromeda Malvern |

Cali Ziiva |

Leven Jeyd | Danielle Mueller

Alessandra liked breakfast. Especially, in bed.

It had been a habit that she had developed while carrying Aries that she had never quite broken. Her husband had never seen fit to complain, thusly, she accepted this as approval. It was only duty that had pulled her from a warm embrace and duty still that saw her through the morning. She allowed the attendants to aid her in getting ready for their monthly trip to L’enfer if only because it seemed to offend them so when she shut the door in their face. She had gotten dressed—All on her own for the last few decades. That hadn’t suddenly changed over a crown.

Her fingers were twined defiantly, possessively, through the digits of

Adron Malvern .

It wasn’t considered proper by any measure of the court decorum but she had an extremely indulgent custom of defying them as often as possible. They had brought Illyria into a blossoming prosperous age far faster than any had anticipated, however, it still didn’t change some of the oldest traditions from appearing here and there. Bias. Sexism. One day, it would all fall away. Just as the fat, lazy nobility, had been culled sufficiently from the herd.

Adron, surely, could work in the Command Center with one hand.

She picked up the document that the King of Illyria passed her with an all too knowing sigh. Something that had fallen to the wayside beneath the previous royal house had been schooling. Some grown men and women could barely write their own name. “This is why I’ve pushed so hard for education reform, my love. When we finish the blueprints for the Academy—Things will improve. Perhaps not entirely for this generation…But the next will be prepared.”

Remedial courses for adults would be an even harder sell, but she was determined to make it happen. When it came to a Creed, nay, a Malvern—If there was a will, certainly, there was a way. When asked to review the numbers she sighed gently but released his hand to do so. A quick flick of her eyes caused a soft frown to mar blood-red lips. “They don’t seem off. They are off.”

She was a little bit lost in her head for a moment when Adron called in Danielle Mueller. He had a soft spot for this one that she had yet to fully identify. Yet, the girl seemed capable with a desire to learn and that was all one could really ask for in an apprentice. She also seemed loyal. That was a bonus above all others. The Apprentices of a Sith were always potentially problematic. Power was the vice they all secretly shared a longing for. There came a time when the student attempted to surpass, and or, kill the master. Replace them. Steal their seat of Power and become the new Master of their own domain.

Alessandra would never let such a thing come to pass. Period. Her child would not be losing his father and she would not be losing her husband. End of story.

Coming back around to the question that her beloved had asked her head nodded slowly.

“We should be able to. Provided that there aren’t any natural disasters to contend with.”

She had been the first between the two of them to tell Adron that they needed more. The way she said “natural disaster” should have told him the truth of her statements. There was always the chance of drought or something equally awful happening due to the weather or the oddly strange occurrence but what she was truly referring to was an incursion. War. Being on Illyria almost made it feel like they were in an enclosed bubble that was separate from the rest of the galaxy. It was an illusion.

They were all part of a greater whole—And where that whole was affected; So would they be.

She could feel Adron reaching for her without looking and she migrated into his arms without thought while still reviewing the paperwork that had been presented. There was something about it that nagged in the back of her mind. Her body would tense against him, briefly, and her words finished the sentence. Had she felt it? “Yes.”

And it wasn’t friendly. It wasn’t known.

Alessandra could feel Adron reaching for his lightsaber and remained silent while the air started to settle and become stale. It was the taste of uncertainty. She had her own weapons stashed away, out of sight, but she was not garbed for a battle. She was dressed with the expectation of a Queen attending her King on their royal rounds. Not this. “Adron…”

She paused, biting her tongue. The young Malvern Queen would rather wait and see versus stirring up unrest without proof. They were together. They had a cadre of Knights and Handmaidens that were tested and reliable. Dark eyes seemed to go flat while her chin raised.

They would deal like this as they dealt with everything else.

Fleur Valencia · Oct 24, 2020

BLACK FLAG

Location: L’enfer Command Center
Appearance: Outfit
Tags:

Cali Ziiva | Andromeda Malvern |

Alessandra Creed

Ever since the Olympics and her first day of court, the Viscount had been buried in plans for new building infrastructures and business models. Currently, three buildings were being built even as she had inspected the clinic and medical centres on L’enfer. Buildings like the military base, a hospital complete with a lab and yet another casino, in a location that would hopefully drum up more revenue from the many men and women sinking their hard earned credits into. As cold as it sounded, it wasn’t as if the woman was making them do such a thing, she was just exploiting a weakness that those who lacked intelligence seemed to possess. If she didn’t, then someone else would and she honestly wanted that revenue to fund the many hospitals that she intended on building.

Fleur didn’t know for certain as to why she had been requested to fulfill the duty of inspecting the clinic and medical centres on board L’enfer. Perhaps it was due to her expertise in the medical and business fields? Either way, it was a job that she was more than happy to complete, while her fingers darted over the datapad as she finished off a report for the King and Queen. Accurate models that showed the expense reports of future expenditures, such as the upkeep costs of medical equipment and costs of medicines that would need to be replaced and/or replenished after a certain time frame. L’enfer could only distribute a first level of care for those on board. Any other serious medical issue, then the patient would have to be transported back to the homeland once stabilised for transport.

All the necessary details were added into the report as she moved, all the while her head nodded to the man who led her around to finish the inspection. Another section was added into the report; one that covered the workplace health and safety of those working in the centers. For the most part everything seemed to be up to code, but she did not recommend the usage of the facilities until certain things could be rectified. Fleur’s keen eyes had noted that for some reason, there had been shortcuts made. Shortcuts of low grade equipment and outdated medical supplies had been added. The Viscount wondered if someone had replaced the original supplies, with the low grade in hopes that no one would notice. Was someone stealing items already to try and sell them for a profit? Was someone stealing from the king? In any case, all of the shortcuts and low grade supplies were filed into the report; along with evidence in the way of imagery, was attached to it as well.

Finally, the woman emerged into the office of The King and Queen. Fleur sank low into a bow as she held the datapad close to her body so that no other eyes could see and rose. ”My apologies to your majesties for my late arrival. My inspection of the medical facilities had my time here delayed, as there are some discrepancies with certain issues that need to be addressed as soon as possible. Everything is outlined in my report...” The woman’s words softly drifted off just as she felt the Dark Side’s chilling pull.

Fleur has always been force sensitive and had known it from birth. However, her studies had only been consistent with the line of business work, paired with defensive skills, should she need to defend herself. Of course, she too was carrying weapons, but for now she avoided the urge to reach for such a weapon even when the king called for them to arm themselves. The only real training the woman had within the force was the Diathim use of charm and their natural hypnotic abilities. If she was not holding a weapon, it would make those people who would initially see her, think that she was weak and defenceless. It would make them lower their guard so then she could attack when they were at their most vulnerable. It was dirty, but the darkness within her cold soul did not mind such a use of the tactic.

Freyu Molidias · Oct 24, 2020

Tag:

Alessandra Creed | Danielle Mueller

An amethyst sash was pulled taut over the chest of her dark suit, its hue only deepened when contrasted with the white fur of her mantled cloak. Hidden behind the black curtain of leather was a scabbard holding what many called a sword, though compared to the giantess was barely more than a seax. It was the weapon bequeathed to those of the Royal Guard and she took it graciously, however believing the day she would place reliance on the sword would likely never come to pass. What sort of warden would she be if metal proved better than her own tooth and fang?

While the emotion would fail to ever be expressed on face and frame Freyu found the L'enfer to be an impressive station. She did allow a small light of pride to spark, appreciating the works of House Malvern before extinguishing the flame in a blanket of stifling professionalism. All but the king and queen received the judgement of her frigid gaze, her blue eyes piercing anyone that so much as cast a glance toward the king's direction.

As for the king's apprentice, Danielle Mueller, Freyu merely tolerated. Though not beholding to the ways of Sith doctrine Freyu knew of a common thread which seemed to run in many apprenticeships among the cult, that being the habit of the student destroying the master. Thus the young woman received Freyu's constant suspicion.

Many may have thought the life of a warden to be of constant thrill. It was a life of waiting. One was not given such a position based solely on power, but also on the ability to keep a course of vigilance through all hours and scenarios. And thus she waited as usual, keeping guard over the royal couple as they performed their daily routine.

The king gave an order for the preparation of his transport and Freyu bowed her head in compliance, "As you wish, my Lord."

No sooner had the pad of her finger touched the communicator did the king's aura warp from its calm state to one of caution. Arm herself she did, the gloves on her hands dissolving as the gnarled claws of her truer form broke the surface. She turned a half-circle as she waited, listening to the beating hearts of those present and the pulse of the station's own systems.

The High Court of Illyria · Oct 25, 2020

WAR

Tags: Andromeda Malvern

It was not so much impatience that flowed through Jean for what felt like an hour. No, it was more than that. He was so prepared to take his revenge that every moment he wasted was just that...a waste.

Finally, draped in darkness within the main room of his ship, he heard the silent chime from the holotable. His eyes opened to look upon the holotable that showed a single golden light illuminating a few feet from him. Suddenly another came to life...then another...and another...

"All hands...Hoist the colors high." His lips curled into a smile as he realized more and more of the lights forming on the table before him until they created an image before him.

A golden skull on a black background. The once-proud emblem of House Le'Black. "This is where the fun begins..." He remarked, before tapping a button on the terminal. "All ships. This is Capitan Le'Black. Commence the operation." He spoke proudly before sinking back into his throne. He let out a proud laugh as he rejoiced at the moment he'd aswaited os eagerly. "Yes, yes! Show us what Illyria has become! I swear I will rip every credit from it's hand and leave it a wasteland!"

"Vive Le'Black!"

~~ Location: Garde Noire ~~
Tags:

Xobos Yakieer

Leven Jeyd

Cali Ziiva
POV: Captain No'maq

"Well well well! Looks like we got the go-ahead boys!" A rowdy voice called out from the cockpit of The Chivalrous Corsair, the voice belonged to Captain Erad No'maq. A young, yet boisterous Twi'lek Captain with a particular fancy for destruction. His crew was small and his deeds were few, yet he was a man eager to make a name for himself among Captain Le'Black's Pirate Fleet. The freighter they were flying in was a medium-sized shipping freighter, no different from the others that had been used to ship various metals out of Garde Noire. No one would notice it coming in close to the settlement.

The blue-skinned Twi'lek pulled the goggles over his eyes before looking to the men standing readily in the next hold. "Strap in, we're goin' in hot! Remember, we're just here to sew a little chaos boys. Take what you can but don't linger too long or the dogs will be on our tails!" With that being said, the Twi'lek was a young man, and not the most skilled pilot in the galaxy. It was for that entire reason Le'Black had given him The Corsair. It was an old freighter, and not the fastest, but it was a tough old bird.

Which was good, since Erad had wrongfully entered in the landing coordinates and the ship was flying directly for Garde Noire's town center!

"Captain, ain't we flyin' a little low?!" One of the men remarked with an unsteady expression.

"S-shut up, I'm flyin' this piece!" The Twi'lek called back, turning his eyes from the viewport for a moment.

A moment was long enough.

Luckily the blue-skinned man was able to see the town's main hall, some kind of guild hall, at the last minute and Erad flew directly over it, his metallic wing slamming into the duracrete bell tower and causing it to cave into itself. However, his reflexes could not save them from slamming their nose directly into a large building that exploded out in grain and produce. The ship rocked violently as they came to ab abrupt halt. Most of the alarms within the cockpit were blaring loudly, causing Eraq to groan as he looked over the controls. "Awh hell...they're shot." He remarked. Still, the Twi'lek didn't seem concerned as he smirked back to his men, pulling a blaster pistol from his waist. "Screw it, we'll hitch a ride outta here. Lets go have some fun!"

With that, the pirate crew opened the rear loading ramp and exited out of their transport. For the unsuspecting people of Garde Noire who had just seen their main Guild Hall damaged and their granary stores destroyed, it was an added injury for the pirates who emerged from the ship, their blasters leveled at the people of the town. "Run run run! You can't hide from the crew of the Corsair!" The Twi'lek called out.

Still, one of his men could not help but mutter.

"You crashed the Corsair..."

"Quiet, just keep blastin'!" He yelled, firing another random shot off into the air.

~~Location: L'enfer ~~
Tags:

Adron Malvern

Alessandra Creed

Alessandra Creed Danielle Mueller

Fleur Valencia
POV: Lieutenant Torok

For L'enfer, tragedy struck not long after the disaster at Garde Noire.

In the Control Room one of the deck officers slammed a fist into his terminal as he called out to the King and his staff. "Your majesty, long rang communication is down! Same for holonet and auxiliary frequencies." Communications outside of the system were being effectively jammed.

Still, it was not the control room that was of greatest concern. It was the main loading hangar which took in the shipping and processing for the planet that was the source of the next attack. A massive explosion rang out and the entire block was forced to lock down as the vacuum of space swallowed out the few droids present during the explosion.

A diversion. One that Torok had set up perfectly. It was a trick he'd taken to using on Trandoshan slavers. Always so concerned with their products and shipments, they seldom believed such methods could be used against them.

For the massive Wookie warrior, what came next was perfect. All sections of the space station began to lock themselves down. The main inprocessing station, where individuals waited for entry onto the planet just became a giant cash pot for him and members of his crew. The blast doors to the room began to seal and Torok watched with a careful eye. The Illyrian Peace officers stepped forward, calling out their commands. "Everyone, remain where you are. We have a situation but it is underhand, just-" One of the officers loomed too close to Torok and almost immediately found himself snatched into the Wookies arms, a blaster pistol to his head. The Wookie roared out as the other Peace Officers formed a semi-circle around him, their blasters aimed for the Wookie.

"Put him down!"

"Don't move!"

That was when the blaster fire rained out, but not from the Illyrians.

Members of Torok's crew had been hiding themselves among the crowd and the moment the Illyrian's moved on Torok they became the perfect targets. With the Illyrian officers dead and the section locked down, that left the people in the room helpless to the looting that had been planned. Torok yelled out loudly.

Get everything of value! Now! His men nodded, most of them aliens of all different species in color. They moved quickly, relieving the people of their things.

Torok turned his hard grey eyes to one of the security cameras in the hold before growling and firing at the camera, blinding all to the occurrences of the room.

Adron Malvern · Oct 25, 2020

PARABELLUM

Tags:

Fleur Valencia

"Your majesty, long rang communication is down! Same for holonet and auxiliary frequencies." The words finally pulled the King from his stupor. He'd been so immersed in the tellings of the Force his amethyst eyes had been giving off a distinctive shine. When the Deck Officer called out, Adron turned to the man and spoke plainly. "Activate L'enfer's Security Measures immediately and-"

That was when the explosion echoed out, causing Adron's eyes to lift to the lights above which flickered at the rough quake that pulsed through the space station. That sent the entire Command Center in a flurry as questions were yelled from one side of the station to another. The King's eyes glanced from one man to another before he called out loudly. "Enough! Find out what happened immediately and lock down L'enfer. Order all Security Teams to their positions and halt all traffic on and off of Illyria."

"Yes, your majesty!" The men echoed out before Adron turned his eyes to Alessandra with a silent expression. "We are under attack." He stated simply, though his wife need not know such a thing. For all of her years in the Confederacy her life had been in just as great a danger as his many days. Still, he never worried for her ability to protect herself, merely hoped it never came to such a thing. In the next moment the holotable came ot life and the King was shown an image of a shipping bay seemingly blown from the inside out. One of the officers called out to explain the image. "Loading bay three, your majesty. Our shields in that area were holding fine so it must have come from the inside."

The inside? Someone had breached their Security systems? Adron mused before another voice called out.

"Sir, bringing up the feed for In-processing center Charlie, you need to see this." The image then shifted to show the hostage situation that was occurring in the in-processing center. The King narrowed his eyes as he saw the Wookie moving about the grounds, his heavy eyes turning to the camera just before blasting the feed out with his weapon. "Sir, we had one Security Team in that hold and all of their readings are coming back KIA."

So, someone was bold enough to attack them so close to home? Adron nodded before turning his eyes to L'enfer's Commander. "Lock down all hangars and activate the planetary shield. No one comes or goes without my approval." He turned away from the man before looking to

Freyu Molidias and the other members of his guard. "With me." He commanded them, yet before he stepped off he turned to Alessandra pointedly. "I need you close to me." He told her, his hand coming up to ever so briefly caress her cheek. His amethyst eyes shined brilliantly as the emotion from their touch fueled him as nothing else could. Once Adron had believed that by keeping those he loved away, he could keep them safe. It was quite the opposite, with his wife he learned the power they wielded as one would always dwarf that which they had separate.

The King then turned his eyes to

Fleur Valencia who had accompanied him to the station to assure all of the medical needs would be seen to. "I need you to make contact planetside and find out just what is going on. Contact Sieur

Xobos Yakieer and inform her of what is going on here. Once that is done you will take a detachment of Security Officers and lock down the other in-processing centers. If anyone gives you trouble then you will arrest them under my authority. See it done." He ordered.

With

Alessandra Creed and

Freyu Molidias accompanying him and the Royal Guard close behind the King set off out of the Command Center, yet he called back loudly. "Get the damned comms back up immediately!"

They stepped into the hall and the door behind them would shut with a hiss. As L'enfer was locked down few people could move about as they wished.

The pristine white halls were long and as Adron moved through them he thought aloud. "I sense a plot against us. There is much hatred behind this attack." He breathed in agitation.

Xobos Yakieer · Oct 25, 2020

Location: Illyria, Garde Noire, Beacon Castle.
Equipment: Illyria Knight Armor, Knight Saberstaff, Miralukan Eye Mask
Mental state: Silent.
Tags: |

Cali Ziiva |

The High Court of Illyria |

Everyone felt it. Even the guards that surrounded the three force users could feel that something was off. At least, they felt the shaking of the ground as something heavy slammed into the town below. Everything stopped in the training room. The match that had begun in earnest was dropped, and the guards nearest to the windows looked out to see the tragedy that had occurred. With where Beacon castle sat, they had an unimpeded view into the town below. Over the rising noise in the room, a very clear shout could be heard.

“We are under attack!! They crashed into the grainery!”

Xobos swallowed, furrowing her brow at the very thought of someone so bold as to attack her providence as openly as this. Striding over to the window, she found the shouting to be true. Someone had flown what looked to be a cargo ship into the grainer, clipping the town hall in the process. Whats worse, a fire had started to break out where the ship had crashed, and the grain was only working as an accelerant for it to rage harder and faster. If they didn’t quell this attack and put out the fire soon..

The possibilities of this distracted her just long enough for her to start when turning to see the room had turned to her, awaiting what orders she might have. It took one more look out the window, down toward the attackers, going after and killing her people, to bring her mind right back into action. “Weapons lockers, now!” She called out, starting toward the back of the training room. “I want guards in the village in the next five minutes! We need to push back the attackers quickly and secure safety for the people!” Her words seemingly set the room ablaze, with movement swiftly happening as the guards cleared out to head toward the security center. Xobos reached out to grab one guards shoulder just before he exited, quickly wanting to speak to the orange haired man before he left. “Hin, I need those vipers in the air now. All three.”

The former fighter pilot, now turned squadron leader and personal pilot for the Seiur, gave Xobos a look of discouragement while responding. “Xobos, you know number three is barely functional after Rosco crashed it. We would be better just putting one and two-.” He was cut off by a wave of the hand from the Miraluka, her face showing a mix of anger and impatience, only one of which was truly directed at her friend.

“I don’t care. We need them all Hin. That's an order.” The pilot sighed, flashing a look toward Leven and Cali, looking back to the Sieur long enough to give her a nod then swiftly exiting the room. The three were left alone in what was just moments a joyful gathering, now turned quiet and cold. It was obvious that Xobos’ mind was far away as she turned to walk past her companions, moving to get ready for battle as quickly as possible. She couldn’t let her people be slaughtered like this. Not after they gave so much for her, and certainly not after they took her in like they had. She was Illyrian, and gods be damned if they were going to be slaughtered.

That sentiment did not have to extend to the pink alien and her apprentice, however. But, again, gods be damned if she was going to let either of them out of her sight. Cali could take care of herself well enough, and leven knew how to hide like the best, but if she was going out there, she wanted them both by her sides.

Taking a moment to stop strapping her gauntlets tightly to her forearms, Xobos motioned to the two lockers beside. “Armor on. There’s no way I could keep you two here while I go out there, I know that, and I will not let you put yourself in danger without something protecting your bodies.” The chest plate came next, something she struggled with for just a moment. Perhaps the adrenaline was getting to her, but more likely her mind was becoming clouded with the rage of seeing her people attacked like this. She was doing her best to control it, but there was no doubt that Cali and Leven would have begun to feel her bubbling anger by this point.

Eventually the chest armor relented, snuggly hugging her midsection correctly. With her lightsaber attached to her belt, Xobos took a moment to look herself over for anything forgotten, before striding over to where her apprentice was hopefully getting ready. “stay close to me, but use your training. Be swift, be deadly. You know you can’t get in prolonged battles. Quick attacks, use the shadows, and become as deadly as I know you can be.” For a moment, there was silence, then Xobos reached out to place a hand on Leven’s shoulder and give it a light squeeze. The entire demeanor of the Sieur had seemingly changed to something serious, vengeful. Her inward emotions lacing into her words like venom.

“And kill these bastards for attacking your home.”

Leven Jeyd · Oct 26, 2020

Location: Phare du Chateau, Garde Noir, Illyria.
Equipment: Daggers.
Tagging:

Xobos Yakieer ~

Cali Ziiva

The changeling had scurried over to the closest window in the blink of an eye - the exact same moment before the trembling cause by the crash could be felt. She was nimble and had an instinct without an equal, strong and refined. Her eyebrows fell into a dark scowl as she set eyes on the freighter that had damaged the city and set it alight. Battle. She didn't like battle - or more specifically, she didn't like battlefields. But she would learn to like them.

There she stayed, perched upon the window like a guarding gargoyle as everyone jumped into action. Calculating, preparing, observing. Her eyes were sharp and she could see the people run and, mostly unknowingly, she could feel their fear. Leven had not been on Illyria for long. In her darkened heart, there was no true, deep allegiance to this land - not yet. Or at least, the changeling did not believe there to be. Yet, what she saw before her caused a very specific cord to be struck within her - one that caused her darkness that clung to her to stir.

An attentive ear listened to Xobos give her commands and it was when every guard and officer had departed, leaving the trio in the training room, that she forced herself to move away from the window and back to Xobos' and Cali's side. The blades that rested in their sheaths placed horizontally on the low of her back, not in immediate sight when watching her from the front and yet one swift movement away from being drawn out into action. The unconventional placing seemed to be fitting for the wily changeling.

As soon as they reached the armory and Xobos muttered the words, the dexterous hands of the changeling began working to strap the armor in place. All those costume changes in a backstage that needed to be done in a matter of seconds came in handy today, tightening fastenings and properly securing the pieces around her body was as easy as breathing. Her white gaze moved to Cali. She had never fought alongside Cali before. A faint form of pain seemed to run down her spine as the memory of the shot that had wounded her in Dorvalla bled into her thoughts - it made her skin crawl. But she had lived then and she would live today - Leven Jeyd couldn't die.

Then Xobos addressed her - and for what was perhaps a first time in a very long while, Leven nodded. No objections, no questioning. Dorvalla would not happen again. She had learnt from her mistakes - she would not allow lowly filth to harm her again. The seething burn of anger began boiling within her, hand almost itching to wrap around the handles that not so long ago had felt foreign to her grip. It would be a hand on her shoulder and an order to kill that would unleash it.

Kill them for attacking your home.

Home. She had never had a home, the closest to it would have been a lump of hay inside one of the colorful but rotting tents of the Acrophylia. But the Sith was right. This was her home. Her dwelling. It was a much better place than the circus had been. It occurred to her that, unlike those rotting tents, it did matter to her whether this place survived or not. This place was her own.

And no one messed with that which was under the care of the Jester's unmerciful hands.

Mahaut · Oct 27, 2020

~ Location: The Maidenhair, Space surrounding L'enfer ~
~ Wearing: xxx ~ Company: Gabin; Amer ~
~ Tags:

The High Court of Illyria ,

Fleur Valencia ~

Months of borrowed nobility has been filled with many things.

The newest of which were high collars, stiff corsets, and all too many skirts, as exemplified in the outfit she wore today. A lady must always look at her best, Sir Duncan had professed as lady's maids flitted about their Sieur fitting her for the journey she now found herself on. But specifically so when showing her wares. Of which he meant lumber. Of which the crown jewel was a half cord of Winter Oak planks. A fitting gift, rare and unique, for both the freighter Maidenhair's and Mahaut's own maiden voyage. For whatever the space station needed woodwork, a certain touch of special resilience would surely be handy.

A door unlatched and slid open behind her on the short bridge. Soon after, a male voice came, and then so too footsteps: "Comment respirez-vous cela?"

He was teasing, but only by a little. His tone no longer betrayed all it once had, as hers still may during any given conversation, because the Institute of Literature Arts had taught him much she still did not know. Still, she was not jealous of her page. Mahaut could imagine nothing that could pit the two friend crystallized together by mine water against each other. Achille's chains were long gone, but still the ghosts of them bound. She was simply grateful she knew both his unobscured personality and intentions. "Un à la fois, mon ami," she replied. Adding to the fun was like taking a gulp of fresh air before being yanked below freezing water. That was what High Court had become to her.

In ways, she longed for the phrik-lined tunnels of Gwenaël, and for that she hated herself. That she might wish to trade one hell in to regain another. The rings. Perhaps she had to claw her way from purgatory. Perhaps she would never be free. Perhaps Achille had won.

"M'lady?" Sergeant Amer began rhetorically, approaching the duo from a nearby display. "We have just received landing clearance into loading bay three, and will be on L'enfer shortly. Please, take a se-"

Mushrooming plumes of yellows, oranges, and greys caught the doe-eyed noble's eyes as Amer ushered her towards the row of passenger seats set against a wall. "Uh, Ser...?"

Where was her eloquence now?

Up in fire and smoke, into the unforgiving empty, not unlike loading bay three.

The guard turned upon her heel to look out their vessel's viewing screen, following Mahaut's own gaze. "Pilot, turn back," she ordered. "We must hasten to Bon Havre."

Immediately, the freighter began to pivot away from L'enfer and towards Illyria once again. As it did, Mahaut stood - as best she could - in awe-inspired shock. It was beautiful. But deadly. What - how...? She stumbled slightly as the vessel continued its turnabout, sharp as could safely be. As she did, Gabin shot forward and caught her by the waist. "Come now," he urged, attempting to finally see them both into chairs.

The High Court of Illyria · Oct 27, 2020

GUNDOWN

Tags:

Mahaut

Location: Space surrounding L'enfer
Tags:

Mahaut
POV: Captain Nuala The Flash

"We're slipping back into real-space...now!" The metallic yet oddly alluring voice of the Rodian female echoed from her Starfighter to that of her own crew. Captain Nuala wasn't like the rest of the Captains in the pirate fleet. She didn't use the massive Freighters or Corvettes that her counterparts used. Instead she and the seven members of her crew utilized modified X-wing class starfighters with advanced boarding mechanisms. It made them faster and less nailed down.

When the order came in from Le'Black to mobilize and attack she and her crew decided to use the distractions on the planet and at the space station to their benefit.

There was an uneven shift as the X-wing rocked itself back into real-space, almost immediately followed by seven other X-wings falling out of hyperspace behind her.

Nuala smiled as her eyes took in the sight of L'enfer. Even from where she was she could see that Le'Blacks plan had gone underway without a hitch. Still, her eyes turned to an even more appealing sight, causing her to speak into her comm.

"Hey, so...anyone else check out that freighter high tailin' it back planetside?" She asked her men, but all she heard over the comm were a number of laughs.

"Yea, I thought so too..."

"Alright, Flash one and two, outrun that ship and cut off his escape. Everyone else arm your ION torpedos. We're takin' that ship!" She commanded. With her command two of the X-wings darted off from the formation, their laser cannons fired along the hull of the Illyrian freighter, however they were not meant to destroy the ship, merely get its attention. As the rest of the squad of X-wings sped forward Nuala couldn't help but laugh. "Let's make em fish in a barrel!"

Andromeda Malvern · Oct 27, 2020

L O C A T I O N | Aborad The King's Collar

O B J E C T I V E | Warn People

T A G S |

Adron Malvern -

Alessandra Creed -

Xobos Yakieer -

Cali Ziiva -

Leven Jeyd -

Mahaut -

Fleur Valencia -

Freyu Molidias -

The High Court of Illyria

The shudder of The King’s Collar jolted her back and forth in her bunk as it swerved toward her brother’s newest victim. While she waited for sleep to take hold, Andromeda hummed to herself.

It was a tune unlike any other. A song that she did not know by name, but a song that was as familiar to her as the beat of her own heart. With the rise and fall of each haunting note came faded memories. Memories of opulent ballrooms, painted faces, shimmering jewels and fine dresses made of the thinnest silks. Andromeda imagined that this was home. Her home, before her father had saved her from the fire before she had been confined to the bowls of a rusted ship before her real parents had perished.

It was far too good to be true, but far too real to be a dream. For now, she was content for it to be her limbo. Somewhere to hide when the world grew intolerable. The sweet serenity of sleep came calling, fading out what little vision Andromeda had, luring her into that false sense of security. She was almost gone, almost free, until…

“Show us what Illyria has become!” Jean’s voice crashed through the barrier sleep had very nearly constructed. “I will rip every credit from its hand and leave it a wasteland!” Andromeda sat bolt upright. Illyria. That did not sound like somewhere in Hutt space, or indeed any criminal world at all. The young Diathim swung her legs off the bed. Were the Le’Blacks attacking a planet? So, this was personal. Against whom, it was not clear, but the rewards for their mistakes were about to be inflicted upon an entire planet. Every man, woman, and child. The Le’Blacks took no prisoners.

They were likely already aware. Illyria was home to many a powerful mind. Many a powerful hand who could not be tricked so easily into submission, but Andromeda did not know that. All she knew was the name of yet another planet destined to be destroyed by the wrath and greed of her “family”. The frustration at having to sit through this, at being implicated in such horrific actions despite never lifting a blade or firing a weapon. It was too much for Andromeda.

A surge of white-hot rage coursed through her veins, bringing with it an overwhelming radiation of force. It projected a message, loud and clear through space and atmosphere to all those connected to the force.

YOU ARE IN DANGER, it screamed. LE’BLACK, LE’BLACK, her trill voice parroted captain of the ship. It was all she could manage, but it rang loud and clear for several minutes. Echoing through ears and minds alike. Perhaps nobody would know of the pirate clan, but there was a small chance that someone did. Maybe then they would have a better idea of what they were in for, and in turn, a better chance at survival. It was all she could do.

Unsurprisingly, it was the first brave thing Andromeda had done in her entire life. Or at least, the first brave thing she had ever recalled attempting to do. It made the surge of adrenaline and bravado last far longer than it should have, but all good things come to an end eventually. As the white-hot rage burned out into flickering ashes, the realisation sunk in. She had not thought whether anyone else onboard the ship had links to the force. Whether anyone had heard her message of warning. If they had?

That would be that.

Effectively, she had just betrayed her brother. Her entire family. Before this, her crimes were no greater than staying up past bedtime or sneaking an extra sip of wine at mealtimes. This? This was outright treason. There would be no explaining it, and there would be no mercy. Not even from her Father.

Cali Ziiva · Oct 27, 2020

Location: Illyria, Garde Noire, Beacon Castle
Countenance: Calm
Attire: Battle Zeltron
Mood: Excite

A soft hum followed the announcement that a ship crashed into the grainy. Her bright eyes stared up and to the side for a moment as a finger stopped short of the corner of her lips. What sort of attack began by crashing? Sounded like some pretty dense people. Maybe they were deadly with a blaster, but, like, learn to pilot a ship if you were going to go raiding. Like, have some self-respect. Cali's hand opened up into a silent shrug.

The Zeltron's eyes tracked the Miralukan cutey as she crossed over to survey the scene personally. Cali didn't try forcing her way closer. Wasn't any need, really. Xobos was the woman in charge, and if this was an attack then she didn't need people squeezing as close to the window as possible for a gander. Wasn't like a ship in the granary was going to disappear any time soon. There would be time to shake her head in wonder.

Everyone scattered when Xobos set them to motion. Cali twisted, turned, and danced a step or two out of their way, but otherwise didn't scurry off. She did peer at Xobos and Hin when they spoke about some Vipers, but before the Zeltron could think to slip away an order was given.

Wait, an order? Wait, armor? Wait, Xobos thought they were going anyway so why not do it orderly like? Well that last one was true.

Cali's brow fell, rose, and grew lopsided before she sighed. She crossed over to the locker to peer at the armor. Gauntlets were okay. Breast plate... serviceable. But if Xobos tried putting the Pink One inside a full plate suit of armor she could barely walk or see out of, it wouldn't matter how angry the cutey was. A Zeltron had standards! Or, well, at least she knew her strengths -- and mobility was hers.

By the time Xobos got around to conversing with Jester, Cali had her plate on and was fiddling with a strap just for something to do. A keen sense of hearing and an empty room -- not to mention not being oblivious to how things worked -- took in the scene. With a soft clearing of the throat, a small smile followed Cali's eyes up to the duo. "I don't know what your firefighters have, but get me down there and I'll make sure the damage is contained." Well, she might have stolen a look out the window earlier when everyone was running around.

Battle and slaughter weren't things Cali went out of her way to engage in. Not that she'd never been in a fight before. Sometimes people needed saving, and other times people needed bonked over the head for trying to kill her and steal the merch. Knowing things were necessary and prudent at times, however, didn't mean she enjoyed it. Or how dark people got. Even so, Cali kept the small smile up so her cutey didn't get any more distraught. After all, what else was a Sith Apprentice going to do? Cutting, verbal jabs and a polite invitation to working out differences through discussion weren't it.

Tag:

The High Court of Illyria

Mahaut · Oct 28, 2020

~ Location: The Maidenhair, Space surrounding L'enfer ~
~ Wearing: xxx ~ Company: Gabin; Amer ~
~ Tags:

The High Court of Illyria ~

Blood bathed the air of the cabin as mechanic wails broke up the organic chatter, a hint of what was to come. And thus the omens spoke: you hadn't brought your shields up in time. Parry failed. Injury, on risk of death, imminent.

Even seated and restrained, Mahaut lulled as the ship did. The first passed of blasterfire was lazy, almost - almost - misplaced, but the encore was undeniable in its violence.

Another guardsman rushed into the cabin, bracing himself. As he walked, the hull below him rocked at unpatterned intervals, but he seemed the master of staying on his feet nonetheless. Palti - was that his name? Mahaut couldn't be sure; she wasn't used to have so many people come into her life, let alone her service, so quickly. "Sergeant," he began, gaining Amer's attention at once. "We need to relocate."

The fringes of the planet were coming into view despite the formation's onslaught. Still, the unmistakably shimmering blanket that drew over all of Illyria took the pilot's next words right out of his mouth:

The planetary shield was up. The crew of the Maidenhair would be granted sanctuary nowhere.

Except perhaps below deck, in her belly.

"The transport bay!" exclaimed Amer. "Pilot, retain Palti and Nakos. I will send whoever else I can. Stay here; keep her right."

As she laid the first half of her plan, Gabin now helped his friend to her feet. "I shall as well," he injected.

Amer turned to look at him, but quickly shifted her gaze to Mahaut and held out her hand. "M'lady, please..."

Gabin nodded towards it before catching her eyes. "Quickly now," he prodded.

Mahaut did as her friend advised. With her other hand, she hiked her light skirts not enough to be improper given the situation, but to hasten behind her warden well enough. When they were before the threshold, she glanced back at her page. For a moment, they were dirty phrik miners again. Suffering from lattice-lung and lethargy. Gwenaël all over again. Did they have an Adron Malvern this time?

The memory wore off only in a single strip, giving way to his styled hair, golden-hued clothes, and wisdom, potent as ever:

"Quelque chose sur les œufs et les paniers."

Xobos Yakieer · Oct 29, 2020

Location: Illyria, Garde Noire, Beacon Castle.
Equipment: Illyria Knight Armor, Knight Saberstaff, Miralukan Eye Mask
Mental state: Silent.
Tags: |