First Annual Galactic Games - Avalonia

[Jessica Med-Beq]

"Or perhaps I would be the lady for speed, although we are still a slow, clumsy team" she told her teammates in a low voice.

There was nothing preventing [member="Valae Kitra"] or [member="Tyyni Oluja"] from actually picking up that thought in the Force. Yet Tyyni knew from the onset that the ony way he could overtake either Valae or Jessica would be by using Force-speed and he could only do so in bursts. Jessica was the one who was the most used to the large crowds out of the three: while it is surreal that she would be booed to such an extent that she would be applauded back on Ringo Vinda, especially if Jawas were involved, it wasn't her first experience with massive crowds. She was on Ringo Vinda for the opening of the first Pizza Hutt on the planet, and she was lucky that Jawas were nowhere to be found in this stadium: that Jawa would be in for a world of hurt if said Jawa attempts to overstep the first-row railing to dive into the field. But if Jessica truly was their lady for speed, it means that the Sanctum had a glaring weakness. Perhaps Jessica thought that Valae would rely too much on Force-speed to run in bursts around her like Tyyni would. But was Jessica a victim of her own... Force-computer as she put it?

"By now you know that I'm more than just a, let's put it this way... Force-computer, even though I can't use the Force, not even to enhance my own intellectual functions"

 

[Dunames Lopez]

"As was expected from a team representing a light-sided faction, the local crowd booed the Silver Sanctum team. Several factions declined to send teams: the Galactic Alliance feared that a mishap during the Games would result in a diplomatic incident"

"And let's not forget the failures of the Sith factions as well as those of the Republic: they appeared to be on the decline in the last few months. They had their own houses to clean"

"Let's not forget the Zenithian Imperium: they are at risk of recall as well as the other three factions. Jessica was initially slated to play for the Zenithians until the Zenithian Tribunal decided against it"

The organizers have likely kept the local, First Order team for last. So she is expecting the Mandalorian Clans to make their entrance; their three players were in a corner. She was half-expecting the Mandalorian players to scream at any Republican or Sith in the crowd (while the Knights of Ren would be spared such treatment). And yet rumors abount that Jessica personally worked with one of the Mandalorian players: that Mando player was possibly trying out a flying broomstick at the time. A shame that he didn't carry it, and neither has Jessica, she thought. Dunames is not convinced the broomstick is that great, so she decided against buying one until she has test-flown it. But why has Taking Off on a Star Tour even said anything about the possible recall of as many as four factions? Two of these factions (One Sith and Galactic Republic) were longtime fixtures in the galactic scene, and two more were relative newcomers (Sith Triumvirate and Zenithian Imperium).

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Avalonia was shrouded in all the pomp and circumstance that was to be expected of such frivolous entertainment, banners of the Imperial Order flew from every balcony while propaganda posters were smeared on every blank wall. It reminded him much of Coruscant at the height of Imperial occupation, but those memories belonged to a bygone age that he no longer concerned himself with. Still, there was a twinge of nostalgia as his shuttle, unmarked for security reasons, sailed across Avalonia's grand skyscape on a projected path directly to the stage upon which these athletic actors from all corners of the rotting galaxy would be performing on while throngs of adoring fans and spectators droned out all other sound. Normally he'd balk at the very notion of attending such nonsense, but he wasn't here for the competition; he was here for a chance meeting with a one [member="Natasi Fortan"].

His son, [member="Arkaitz Zambrano"], had been his first delegation to the Imperial Order since his breakaway from the decadent One Sith, but that meeting had been cut short and ultimately went nowhere. Perhaps it wasn't Arkaitz's fault, but nonetheless he had decided to personally lead the diplomatic efforts between his blossoming Black Empire and the government at Dosuun that modeled itself after an ancient splinter faction of the once galaxy spanning Galactic Empire. Thus he graciously inclined to not carry any weapons or don any armor on this journey, leaving behind all of his instruments back on Panatha while he sported something more befitting his royal privilege as God-King of an entire species and culture. A shin length maroon surcoat adorned his outermost garb while a form-fitting pair of black tunic and trouser was fastened tightly to his body by a simplistic black leather belt encircling his waist, with a pair of boots and gloves to cover the rest of his extremities. A cloak was then tied around his shoulders and neck by an ornate brooch encrusted with small rubies, and finally a silver steel circlet rested atop his brow and was encrusted with square-cut rubies similar to those displayed on his brooch.

Perhaps his outfit was a little too flamboyant for the situation at hand, but the Dark Lord had an affinity for splendiferous trappings and often flaunted the exquisite tailoring and craftsmanship of his garments whenever possible. Otherwise he was common seen wearing baroque armor, striding across the battlefield as shells peppered his Dark Side shrouded hide to no avail, a bounty of souls reaped with every swing of his sword of brilliant sunfire.

It wasn't long before the shuttle lurched forward suddenly as it came to a stop in midair, and began to descend slowly to the predesignated landing zone reserved for foreign dignitaries. The landing gear extended and cushioned the impact of the ship's rest, followed shortly by the lowering of the boarding ramp with a puff of hydraulics. The Dark Lord descended the ramp, unaccompanied by any sort of guard, and made his way to the entrance set aside for VIPs. Perhaps his lack of guards was a sign of blooming trust for the hosts of the games, or perhaps the Dark Lord was so assured in his own superiority that he could handle any sort of betrayal even if he was bereft of earthly weapons. Fortunately it didn't seem like betrayal was on the minds of the guards as they received the Dark Lord and escorted him the rest of the way to the skybox set aside for him.

He was a bit tardy to the game, for as he took his seat and set his gaze upon the players down on the field he discovered that they had already begun. He hoped Natasi wasn't too miffed at his late arrival.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi turned as Sioux cleared her throat, careful to keep her back to Vaas' box. It was a shame because she rather paradoxically enjoyed seeing Marzena -- separately, of course. This was enough to turn her stomach entirely, however, so better not to chance it. "Ma'am, he's arrived." Natasi lowered her binoculars and then tucked them into her small handbag. "Then I'll go and greet him. What was his box number again?" The Moff consulted with Sioux for several more moments, then nodded.

"Ma'am, I saw Captain Fortan and Commander von Brinkerhoff in the stands on my way up. Should I invite them to take the suite while you're gone?" Sioux asked. Natasi pondered this for a moment; really it ought to go to some charitable figure or something, but -- oh what did she care, really? "Very well, ask them to take over. I'm sure they have friends they can fill the place with. Don't let Pierce get too free with the, ah..." Natasi's hand gestured vaguely towards the minibar. Sioux touched the side of her nose and nodded. Natasi set off with the Four Horsemen until she found the box that [member="Darth Carnifex"] had been assigned. "Wait here," she instructed the plainclothesmen before being admitted to the box.

"Ah," she said airily as she came into the presence of the rather gaudily-dressed man. She was in less gaudy, but no less stylish trappings. Different strokes, she supposed. "We're so pleased you could come. Natasi Fortan, at your service." She extended a hand. "Is there anything I can arrange to make your visit more comfortable?"

 

[Kellyn Muir]

Avalonia

The Galactic Games, first of their kind, hosted by none other than the glorious First Order. It was a major event where all corners of the galaxy would convene for some friendly and fierce competition. With the influx of people though, came a heightened security risk. If something were to happen at the games resulting in catastrophe, what would become of himself? What would become of the First Order? All the competitors' respective affiliations would all have one common enemy, unless another party would claim responsibility for any attack. Corvo would likely lose his job though, as well as any standing he'd have erode into nothingness, replaced by the tragedy of what would unfold.

But that day would not happen today, nor any day under Corvo Santagar's watchful eye. In regal un-uniformed clothing, Corvo walked among the crowds, surveying for weaknesses. He had agents and uniformed stormtroopers for this, but he had to at least patrol at least once - show his subordinates that he too was willing to do the hard work. A sudden applause erupted, as [member="Ludolf Vaas"]'s voice filled the arena. Corvo wasn't paying too much attention as to what was actually taking place for the game - his focus was on the crowd, where potential attackers would likely gather.

After some time, his section had been swept and cleared. He made a stop at concessions and picked up some snacks and a drink, and made his way to the executive skybox, reserved for the higher ups of the First Order. Being the Minister of Security had it's perks outside of the office too...

 

[Daxton Bane]

Anticipation.....flexing armored fingers before he gripped the handle bars of his custom hover bike....the familiar feeling of so many familiar force signatures, among them that of his former pupil. A smile creeps on his lips beneath the highly reflective armored face plate, as he revved the engine, savoring the raw power of the modified engine rumbling between his legs. The alchemical material was designed to resist energy and concussion damage, was armed with a pair of forward facing stun cannons as well as a fully loaded grenade launcher.

Wearing a custom silver and violet battle suit, it had a few nasty surprises like poisoned tipped retractable spikes, magnetic soles as well as Sith Discus Launcher on the right arm and on the left a retractable flamer.

A pair of ivory colored heavy blasters hung from his hips as well the omnious trio of lightsabers he was notorious for. Hidden throughout his body were alchemical
knives and a launcher of a strong high tension cord which could double as a garrote.

But those were just toys, for in reality, Daxton was a living weapon designed for combat and chaos. This was his nature, this is his calling. As soon as his name is announced he would burst out of fountain of fire and pyrotechnica, releasing an aura of fear and menace to fill everyone with dread and foreboding of what is to come.

 

[Ludolf Vaas]

As the spotlight shifted away from the Silver Sanctum team, the three representatives of the Light Side faction were spared from further booing, although it had not been terribly harsh. The First Order crowd was certainly patriotic, but so far things seemed to be under control, and no hooligans or riots had broken out in the stands yet. Ludolf liked it that way. He relaxed a bit in his seat as he continued to watch with [member="Marzena Choi"] by his side. For all intents and purposes, the Silver Sanctum were their enemies, yet the First Order was the host of these games, and there was an obligation to be sportsmanlike.

The announcer cut off his train of thought as the spotlight shifted to the team the Mandalorian Clans had sent.

"And representing the Mandalorian Clans, all the way from the planet Mandalore on the opposite side of the galaxy - Daxton Bane, Titan Kryze, and Undin Jaii Kryze!"

As the spotlight illuminated the three figures of [member="Daxton Bane"], [member="Titan Kryze"] and [member="Undin Jaii Kryze"], the crowd seemed to afford the Mandalorians with a somewhat more respectful cheer than they had given the Silver Sanctum. At least, there were fewer audible boos to be heard.

"I hear tell that all Mandalorians are related somewhat," Ludolf said as an aside to Marzena. "Rumor has it that there's a bit of inbreeding within their clans. Interesting, no?"

Moments later, the entire stadium lights cut off completely, leaving the crowd in pitch black. A red light cast down the symbol of the First Order in crimson upon the Huttball field, and the crowd grew audibly in volume, knowing what was to come next.

"Ladies and gentlemen, representing the great city of Avalonia, Dosuun, and the First Order, by will of the Supreme Leader..."

Already the crowd erupted in a frenzy of cheering, as the light shifted to illuminate the bodies of [member="Samka Derith"], [member="Decima Fortan"] and [member="Rolf Amsel"], casting them in a red glow.

"Samka Derith, Decima Fortan, and Rolf Amsel!"

 

[William Kerkov Sr]

The Grand Admiral applauded the delegation from the First Order, indistinguishable from the roaring crowds around him. A good bit of nationalistic pride for their fellow subordinates of the Order was always music to Kerkov's ears. A plastered, but convincing smile grew across his face, to show his support for his home team. As the clapping died down so did his grin, he may have felt amusement for his fellow countrymen, but it did not make him feel enthused for the games in any way. The officer felt as such games were tedious and inconsequential, and his stance would not change, now matter how patriotic he felt for his government.

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Titan Kryze"]
[member="Undin Jaii Kryze"]

A soon as his name was called, Daxton Bane revved his motor to full as his hoverbike hit the ramp at full speed. The entranceway burst out in a shower of pyrotechnics as plumes of flame and smoke signalled the arrival of the Harbringer of Chaos. The sound system was momentarily highjacked as his music blared over the speakers.

https://youtu.be/OeGA5DLMKbQ

Doing a 360 spin so the cameras could catch every single inch of his chromed battle form. He raised both hands in the air and made a chopping x like motion as his music slowly faded and control was returned to the stadium.

Daxton patiently waited for the rest of team to join him and for the game to start.

 

[Undin Jaii Kryze]

"Nevermind, I'll figure it out.", said the boy towards [member="Titan Kryze"]. It seemed they had been called. He got up from his seat and started walking towards [member="Daxton Bane"] , who really did like to show off. Perhaps it was better to show off aswell to scare the enemy teams aswell. Undin got his Aquamarine saber , flipped the switch on it and throwed it in the air. As it was coming down the Padawan tried to catch it , but the blade was pointing downwards and when it landed , it had almost cut trought Undin's left foot.

He shruged it off and picked up his saber, unfortunally , for him , the croud watched his little demonstration with attention and most of it was laughing at the boys failure. As he arrived near Daxton , he whispered to him , "I'll be the main runner , as I'm fast and can enhance myself with the Force to give me more speed. What kind of weapons do you have a blaster or a saber? If a blaster, shoot to the enemies' feet. They can't grab the ball if they can't walk.".

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Undin Jaii Kryze"]

For a moment the highly polished faceplate simply reflected the image of the young man's face before the armored form nodded with the hiss of a rebreather scrubbing recycled air within the suit. "Roger that." he replied in a half hissed whisper. "Do you want me on your left flank or right? I have a wide array to choose from for various tactical scenarios. I could focus on their runners or do you prefere me to suppress their support?"

 

[Undin Jaii Kryze]

"Left , get the runners , since the support will be easy to cut trought. We shall win for Mandalore and for the Mand'alor!". Undin smiled as he said that. He had days, days where he was peaceful and wouldn't hurt a fly, and days were a fight was all he needed to be satisfied. Sadly, for his opponents it was the latter one. He looked back towards [member="Titan Kryze"] and asked "Do you mind being the goalkeeper? You know with your electric hands and all , if they get the ball from me , they won't get pass you.".

[member="Daxton Bane"]

 

[Progflaw99]

His view of the field was obstructed briefly as [member="Decima Fortan"] approached. He'd never met any of his teammates formally, but if they were all nearly as easy on the eyes as this one, he wouldn't complain. Rolf recognized her from somewhere but he couldn't place it. With a name like Fortan, he was sure it had something to do with a news report or some such. He didn't let his gaze linger unwarranted and quickly returned to observing the other teams. As the woman spoke of strategy he looked back to her. Nodding.

"It couldn't hurt, It's a little bit unconventional. Having three teams that is."

His mind had been trying to wrap itself around the strategy that would be required in such a situation, certainly it was not the norm. In this situation, it could be beneficial to bide your time as the third team, let the other teams wear themselves out against each other, simply maintaining the status quo until you could crush the enemies... er... opposing team. He supposed while it might be a valid battlefield strategy, it had the potential for making the First Order team look weak in the beginning, but if they could crush their enemies at the end perhaps their true prowess would be revealed. It all depended on what image the First Order had wanted to project.

Rolf watched, eerily silent as the other teams were introduced. His eyes scanned each member from head to toe, his mind busy. It was then that the lights shut off. He knew what was about to come and as the lights flicked back on, his posture had gone from his usual military bearing to that of a god descended from the heavens. He'd pushed out his chest slightly and lifted his chin, a clear look of disdain for plebes on his face as they introduced the team of the First Order. With a casual look around the stadium his sneer turned into a grin. He could feel the energy in the air, thousands upon thousands of voices all cheering, the hands clapping. It was something else to behold that kind of raw energy.

[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Ludolf Vaas"] | [member="Darth Veles"]
[member="Natasi Fortan"]​

 

[Dunames Lopez]

"It appears that the other two teams are faster than the Silvers: yet the First Order has a scion of the Fortan family playing today, with the matriarch of the family being the de facto head of the Moff Council"

"Decima Fortan and Samka Derith are both Disciples of the Beyond, both of whom saw some action on Hoth. Hopefully they will bring their experience of combat to bear on other players, especially on anyone using blasters"

"What about the Mandalorians, Frank?"

"Daxton Bane is the best Mandalorian player, with Undin Jaii Kryze being the fastest. So we have every right to expect the Mandalorians to put on a good show"

Even with the Senate sponsorship of one [member="Klesta"], who is too new to the galactic game of thrones to actually harbor bad feelings towards the Mandos, the Republic feared the backlash a participation in the Games would bring to the new conflict between Mandalorians and themselves. Now that the Parade of Factions was over, all three teams got into their starting positions, hoping that the first faceoff would begin soon. A three-way huttball game was a little peculiar and much more difficult to follow for the run-of-the-mill huttball fans of the galaxy. Nevertheless Dunames expected the Mandalorians to go on the offensive, while the other two would assume defensive positions. With [member="Sabetha Tag"] and the Ikes. Orihime and Junko, in the audience, along with a few Silvers vacationing in First Order space, who knows which Mandos would actually attend other than perhaps [member="Gray Raxis"] especially since his business, WESTAR, is just a hex away from First Order space?

 

[Titan]

"Fine." Titan grinned, force lightning was a favoured tactic with him. Even if they couldn't use the force publically, he had recently discovered a foresight variant that might be helpful. Seeing imediatelly into the future would definently be helpful. In the midst of [member="Undin Jaii Kryze"]'s "demonstration" Titan had slipped forward into the stadium practically unnoticed. Titan looked over at [member="Daxton Bane"], "You ever play before?" If he hadn't, Titan would be the only one on the team who had played before. Which wouldn't be a good thing.

 

[Davin Jusik]

The crowd was alight with the blaze of excitement that followed intergalactic sporting events. Folk from all corners of the galaxy had gathered for the chance to see their nation excel in a competition of athleticism. In a way it modeled a skirmish, a bloodless conflict in place of legitimate warfare as a show of dominance and exceptionalism. Amin had never really taken to such events, preferring contests of the more artistic variety if fighting was not to be done. His attendance hadn't really been a choice. For a member of the FOSB when [member="Corvo Santagar"] said jump one's only response could be "How high." The Agent had been charged with leading sections of the hundreds of invisible eyes that were currently jeering on with the rest of the thousands of onlookers. He looked with a slight disdain at the force users in attendance. Seeing his fellows cut down by Jedi and abused by Sith in the Republic and Sith Empire conflicts had left him with a bad taste in his mouth whenever he encountered one. Arrogant sorcerers, the lot of them.

Amin walked among the back rows, eyeing the crowd while watching the folk in attendance briefly before taking a seat and pretending to enthusiastically watch the events at hand. He clicked a button on his wristwatch.

"Sector one, normal."

"Sector two, normal."

"Sector three, normal."

The little birds chirped dutifully in his ear.

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Titan Kryze"]

"I've played before. Although if you have to ask then it is clear to me that the clans will need a reminder soon."

Daxton had a notorious reputation with the clans. Not only duting the early wars of liberation where they nearly lost their homeworld to the Sith. But dozens of warriors have pitted their skill against him and came up short.

Now he was on the other side, he wasn't least concerned. War never changes, neither does Daxton. In a few hours, he would revel in the glory of confict and battle, what greater gift could he have asked for?

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Decima stood straight when her team was announced, resting one hand on each of her colleagues' shoulders as the adoration of crowd washed over them. She beamed. "Now that's a home team advantage," she muttered to the two flanking her.

A news droid swooped in to take footage and stills of the three First Order champions. That would make for some good propaganda footage, she knew. When the camera had hovered off, she turned back to her teammates, [member="Rolf Amsel"] and [member="Samka Derith"], adjusting her belt, from which hung a lightsaber and a blaster pistol. She was new enough to the Force that it only sharpened her instincts, improved her energy levels and stamina, etc. But no one else in the First Order could be bothered, so this team would just have to do.

"I've never seen it done with three teams before," she muttered to the team. Painfully aware of the eyes of the audience on them, she didn't let her confident smile break as she spoke. "If we can keep them focused on each other, it would allow us to protect our goal that much better, but it will limit our chances to score." She turned and surveyed the field, her eyes narrowing at this trap, then that one, then the next. "What do you think?"

 

[Caid Centurion]

The raucous noise of the crowd had been completely tuned out by Caid. Occupying a single box by himself, the seemingly unassuming man rested quietly in the comfortable chair. If he turned his silver-green gaze to the side, he could see a number of others in rather specific luxury boxes of their own. It did not particularly matter, Caid Centurion was not truly here to enjoy a bunch of games. While he could respect the athleticism and skill involved in just about any feat, he'd never been particularly drawn to combative engagements for the purpose of sport.

This was a reality of his upbringing, however. A childhood in which there had been neither time nor patience for any amount of games. A childhood in which losing did not mean an encouraging speech to never give up...but death. So for the time being, the Force enveloped him in a blanket of serenity. In this state, Caid was able to focus the vast majority of his attention on the only thing in the stadium, at present, that truly mattered.

When her name was announced, the young Centurion arched a single eyebrow. That was unexpected. The expression was quickly replaced by a more typical, neutral countenance as silver-green orbs lingered over the somewhat distant form of [member="Decima Fortan"].

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He rose quickly at the sound of [member="Natasi Fortan"]'s entrance, his expression calm and collected despite the raging fire that burned in his pupils. She extended her hand and he mimic'd her action, grasping her hand in his in a firm handshake, but not so firm that he would crush the smaller woman's hand in his own. Standing face-to-face the size difference between the two individuals was comically obvious, with the Dark Lord standing an entire foot and two inches taller than the Imperial Moff, and thus he was forced to peer down at her as he spoke. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Fortan." The voice that slithered passed those lips was hypnotic, uncomfortably deep, and utterly invasive as if at any moment it would rattle through your skull and whisper false promises to tempt you into eternal damnation. It wasn't just his voice, but his entire being was cloaked with an aura of domination and violence, the faint scent of dried blood permeating the air of the sky box.

"My accommodations are beyond adequate, but I appreciate your generosity." He motioned to the pair of seats behind him with a grand sweep of his arm, "Let's not dither on with formalities, the games have already started and we have much to discuss." He smiled sweetly, but it was nothing but a facade, a mask to entice and to reassure the prey in the presence of their predator. The only times the Dark Lord truly smiled was when he was embroiled in the heat of battle, the stench of rotting corpses and spilled blood assailing his nostrils as he beheld the sights of unfathomable carnage.

His entire existence revolved around violence, and it was a wonder that he could even function at all in such sterile environments as this.