Freedom For Felacat | CIS Dominion of Felacat {X-46}

[Ugohr Poof]

Objective: 3 (Supply the Resistance)
Allies: CIS
Enemies: TBD

"Yousa want some pizza? Yousa come to da upper deck"

Ugohr gritted his teeth upon seeing just how devastated that settlement was: ruins everywhere, roofs torn asunder, and also some walls and windows being blown off. Food was, of course, a prime concern for those people, but while it was still too dangerous to properly rebuild, they still needed some food until construction supplies could arrive. Itsa costen mui mullah to rebuild da planet, he thought, while the many construction projects undertaken by Pizza Hutt were beginning to cause some short-term cash flow problems to Pizza Hutt. But to the Gungan's eyes, short-term problems were worth the long-term benefits; maybe he could build a Pizza Hutt on Felacat, although probably not in this specific town, where there were communal food conservators being distributed alongside their food contents. So one conservator could contain several dozen frozen pizzas; the residents were so ravenous that, in fact, Ugohr began cooking several of those pizzas at once in the ship's oven. For some reason, he didn't feel appropriate to bring the food truck because he felt that it would eat up precious storage room inside the cargo hold on the lower deck, so he had to make do with the kitchen on the upper deck. With lineups of hungry refugees coming up...

 

[Luna Vega]

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Location: Felacat, Slums | Southern Slave Quarter​

Objective: Obtain a bottle of Wren. Survive etc etc​

Enemies: Herself at this point​

Shoutout: [member="Rylan Kordel"]​

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Another day in the life. The city's panoramic view of Felacat's Royal Palace was lost to her in sight, but nay in memory. They couldn't take that... At least not yet. Luna recalled just months prior: lounging about atop a thick wooden banister, one foot dangling above the stories below. It was sunset, the moons with their pale yellow cream peeking from the streams of pink and orange wisps of cloud, the sun's heat making it all appear a canvas of watercolor; a painted twilight. The air was lightly sweet and dry and inked fingers wrangled a bit o'a noose around the bottle of Wren nearly expired. It was there, that one could appreciate the beauty of a desert.

An acrid smell pulled from her that delightful dream, and Luna growled what could only be annoyance. She licked her parched lips, faintly tasting the Reserve from memory. No, there was certainly no way of appreciating the desert sunset of Felacat from prison. The pirate twisted right, leaning back against the wall and pushing up with her legs to stand. A movement that quickly reminded her of last week's triumph and failure all at once.

Groan. Wince. Sigh.

Pirates had a code more often than not, but rarely did they have any sort of moral standard, nor any regard for the opposite sex. Neither was scored as gentler. It was the loot. It was always the loot. So, as it happened, her yap earned her a couple rounds in the pit against fellow wretches. It hasn't been the first time, nor would it be the last. Local pirates had joined the coup, most of them. The few that rebelled, refusing to be anchored to Trandosian slavery, had fled. With the numbers against them and the bounties high, the band of outlaws were captured or picked off one at a time. Luna had faired no different, her fate the same.

To be captured might as well have been a death sentence, only it was a slow debilitating madness. If that weren't the worst, they had pit them against one another for entertainment's sake.

So far, the Felacian Resistance had yet to breach this slave quarter. There was nay the commotion, save for the cries of villains in cells around her. Most pleaded for their FREEDOM. Luna just wanted a drink to drown in, instead she only had the fantasy of it.

The bright blue of her hair had dulled with the soot of her stone prison- paler now, with dark roots apparent- but her gunmetal eyes glinted in the shadows as she watched the door. The situation having yet to pilfer her resolve. Vega flicked the empty water pail so that it hung from the tip of her bantha boot. With a sudden audible snaaap and jerk, the small wooden bucket sailed across the short expanse and crashed into the wall.

PSSSHHT---UCCKKDDD!!!

A loud bang and shuffling a drunken footing in the hall answered in kind. Luna gave an all too casual swagger in the direction of her. guests. She crooked a smile all for them. “Oi, slipped on me bucket…” This had been the tenth bucket to date and the furrowed brows and teeth sucking proved the annoyance and the anger she rung from them. She full-bellied laughed then, the action revealing streams of tears when her head canted back. Shoulders shook and the lass doubled over, the hysteria sweeping over her in a fit of giggles.

Jingle. Jingle. Went the keys. Crrr--nnnkk went the cell door. One heartbeat. Two. Suddenly it wasn't so funny and she bolted, shielding her banged-up arm, shouldering with the other between the small space between the men, making a hole with her right, deft fingers lifting a shiv from one. She hadn't had time to turn back for another round.

This is where she gets caught right? Riggghhtt?!

Wrong. For reasons unknown even to her, the strength and speed granted to her at that time seemed not of Luna’s own. It felt… itchy, ethereal even. The pirate was still going, legs pumping as if they were machines instead of flesh and bone. The combined effort of dry air and.... well, being human was what stopped her. Luna’s chest burned and she fought not to cough, slipping between a small gangway for reprieve.

Another day in the life. That was when she snuck'a'look, hooking her unnatural tresses behind her ear so as to not give herself away. “Wha in th’karkin’ name o’th brotel on hutta…” That was when she noticed the silence. Not normal silence, rather the omitted sounds from day to day life in this city.

Luna felt naked in that moment, fingers twitching in the absence of her gear. “YOU THERE!”

Fek. Fek. Fek. Startled, she threw up her hands. “Doona’ya miiind…” She pointed a finger towards the sky, in hopes of distracting the thug. The sunset really was captivating, she thought. It had almost worked. Another came into her peripheral. Trando- trandorodents- rats that they were. Fek.

The shiv glittered in the last of the light and Luna Vega set her shoulders.

 

[Brea Hersy]

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• Post: 2
• Objective: 2 | Part of the Felacatian resistance
• Location: Capital city
• Equipment: Animal hides, green cloak, reinforced durasteel shield, vibrosword
• Tags: [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] | [member="Kurenai Yumi"] | [member="Daxton Bane"]

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Practically launching forward from the momentum of their speeder bikes, the small squad of Felacatians flung themselves into alleyways and through windows where Felacatian slaves were being held, some having already morphed into their larger, more intimidating forms with all of their weight crashing into the several slavers at a time. Others remained humanoid, like Brea herself had, slicing into the metal exterior of a Trandoshan speeder with her vibrosword as a beastly Felacatian barged inside through the new opening. Slugs and blaster bolts drowned out much of the noise there as slavers were savagely torn apart and chewed up by the new arrivals.

From higher up, Brea could see that the leader of their squad had already been shot down by Trandoshan patrols entering the scene. With a wide-eyed gaze, Brea took a deep breath and held out her shield in front of her, charging into a slaver as his blaster bolts merely singed and damaged the durasteel bulwark. Cutting through the slaver's arm, the blaster was dropped and a second swing ended it.

Speeder after speeder loaded to the brim with Trandoshans hurried through the streets, some not even making it to the fight as rebel fire sent them spinning elsewhere. There were more Felacatians arriving then, ramming their own empty speeders into the slavers' and providing their squad with well-needed support. A familiar face was among them, but Brea could swear that she was mistaken. A woman sporting a black and red mohawk wielding two vibro-axes, however, was hardly a common sight elsewhere.

It was Veriss, she was sure of it, the sister of the Horde Boss herself. Knowing Veriss, she had followed Brea there and applied herself to the war efforts. Whether it was to help her or merely get into the kind of fights she so loved, Brea may never know, but she was a much better envoy from the Horde than Brea herself was.

 

[ToKola Bakari]

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All over the surface of Felacat the native Felacatians are rising against their masters. Breaking the weakly formed bonds of slavery many of the Trandoshan slave camps have been set in disarray by the uprising.

Across the planet a mighty roar could be heard as many of the natives have shifted into monstrous, feline-like beasts. With their transformations come speed, agility, and power to help them tear open their unprepared enemies. Struggle to maintain control, the Trandoshan slavers have retaliated in force.

"Kill all who raissse hand or claw againssst their massster!" The order was given and the battle had begun.

Objective I: End the Blockade {Naval Assault}

The arrival of The Confederate fleet was an utter shock to the Trandoshan privateers who lazed about the blockade. With quick precission [member="AR-G002"] prepared the Confederate Naval forces for the battle that was primed to ensue. With the arrival of the Confederate Fleet Commander, Admiral [member="Skeeno Purrs"] the Confederacy was prepared to wage war on their new reptilian enemies. As a powerful storm of turbolaser fire filled the Felacatian skies the Trandoshan ships struggled to react, many being unceremoniously executed immediately by the Confederate fleet. With the bulk of the Trandoshan blockade in disarray, [member="AR-G002"] issued the planetary invasion. As Admiral [member="Skeeno Purrs"] crushed the remainder of the Trandoshan Navy, ships would begin to flee the system. It was utterly apparent that the Trandoshan Blockade had come to an end, and not short enough it was.

Objective II: Take Felacat’s capital and save the royal family {Ground Assault}

With the Knight's Obsidian, Cardinal Vi'dreya and [member="Kurenai Yumi"] on planet before the invasion's beginning. The Confederate forces had more than enough intel to begin the liberation of the capitol city and the royal palace. From the inner workings of the city [member="Scherezade deWinter"] was able to supply her own line of intel while remaining close to the Royal Family. Utilizing a holographic disguise she maintained her cover as a Felacatian slave until the proper moment to strike. [member="Brenett Storm"] had taken up with the local resistance, banding with their main force to assault the main Felacat city. The Felacat resistance forces were met with stern opposition as the Trandoshan warriors descended upon them. In the streets of their city the Felacatians fight eagerly with [member="Daxton Bane"] and his squad of commandos to take the city and secure their royal palace. The battle was tipping, and in the proper manner.

Objective III: Support The Resistance {Supply and Negotiation}

Elsewhere on the planet [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] and [member="Ugohr Poof"] had set their sights on aiding the Felacatians unable to aid in the reclamation of their world. Valiantly bringing food and beverages to the world, Ugohr saw fit to land his ship near a Felacatian town that had been in dire need of food since all of it's able bodied farmers and workers had been taken as slaves. Though running the Trandoshan blockade was no easy endeavor, the Gungan saw his task to completion. While Sor-Jan worked to secretly smuggle his own goods on world, the Resistance was working hard to coordinate with the relief to see their people fed and clothed. The people of Felacat would not die this day.

@everyone I may have missed, sorry if I did!

 

[Rylan Kordel]

Location: Felacat, Slums | Southern Slave Quarter
Objective: Release the Slaves
Enemies: Trandoshan Slavers
Shoutout: [member="Luna Vega"]

Rylan had landed planet side some weeks before the operation, scouting and tracking the different encampments, relaying what information he could to the resistance, and to the Knights Obsidian order, and while he had no intention of joining up with the rest of his order in the battle, he did plan on doing his bit for the cause. So there he was, laying on a hill side in his ghillie suit, sniper rifle in hand, he had spent the days prior slipping in and out of this particular prison, getting a vibe for it's lay out and the best lines of sight to start killing the slavers, so now here he lay for nearly three days, watching the main street, boredom slowly setting in, but never losing sight of his objective, he kept his mind on task.

It was then that something happened, there was a commotion down below, a blue haired woman was slowly being outnumbered by at least one pair of slavers, so with a deep breath, he lined up a shot, took in account of the distance, the wind, the slowly fading light of day... then it happened, that click of the trigger pull, the kick, rifle recoil traveling down the the butt, pressing into the shoulder. The flanking Trandoshan dropped, a clean kill as the high energy of the rifles blaster bold passed through it's head, before the second could react, he quickly lined up on it and fired another, and where there was once an eye, there was now a hole, now that it could be seen by the way the body had landed, hitting the ground a few feet behind it as it was picked up by the momentum and flung back a bit.

Satisfied with the two kills, he knew it wouldn't be long before the two would be noted as missing, so he made quick to gather his gear, stand and make a quick rush into the city streets, he had a feeling the person he just aided may need some assistance, and if he was wrong, well, there was still more killing to be done before this night would be over.

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Objective: 3 (Supply the Resistance)
Allies: CIS
Enemies: TBD

"May mesa take yoursa order?"

"One maxibig thin crust pepperoni pizza please"

It was a common trick to him by now: ordering one maxibig pizza usually meant that the customer would need to provide for more than one person, unless the customer was Tro'zet-sized or larger. Speaking of Tro'zet, there is another one of them down there, right next in the line behind the Felacatian customer purring while waiting for the receipt of his maxibig pepperoni pizza. But he knew that, with those commercical-grade ovens, he could have several pizzas cooked that the personal ones would take far too long to cook. And even an AT-AT barge would have a commercial-grade kitchen, to say nothing of a Star Destroyer, which would have several industrial-grade kitchens onboard. This time around, it seemed that he would need to fire up the air-fryer for those breaded fish that the second cook took orders for. Once the pizza was ready, he put that into a cardboard box fitting its maxibig pizza status, covered in pepperoni pizza, cheese and the classical tomato sauce that was typically served unless someone requested another variety for their pizza.

"Yoursa maxibig pepperoni pizza"

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

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Objective: 2
Location: Inside the Royal Palace
Looking like: a felacatian (holographic disguise)
Wearing: Servant outfit
Wielding: 12 Czirka knives, 4 Glitter Bullets, stun gun
Tags: [member="Daxton Bane"]
Posts: 3

Still no word from the Confederacy, Scherezade sighed as she stood outside the royal dining hall, waiting for the royals to finish their meal. Trandoshans came and went, their clicking sounds which they pretended was some sort of a language causing the young Sithling's head to spin with annoyance. She wished Ger- No, she did not wish it. She was not allowed to wish it. He'd made his choice and she was here alone, still waiting for the moment to strike. Her stun gun was ready to take them out, the routes from the dining hall down into the cellar well memorized inside her head.

But it would take more time. She knew things were happening on the planet. She could feel it. And still no word, though she had checked her comlink frequently to make sure it was still working.

Groaning, Scherezade took another swig from her bottle, and decided to take the matters into her own hands.

She walked into the dining hall, taking note of the five Trandoshans that were there now. She could take five... Maybe.

Her arm rose, the gun shooting into each of the royal family member. They fell like like bricks, some into their plates, some to the floor. She'd apologize later. Right now, she had five huge Trandoshans to take care of, and they were more urgent.

Tossing her disguise device away, the girl was now plainly visible to the enemy; tall, wearing just jeans and a wide black T shirt, no armor to speak of except for the dozen of Czerka knives stashed beneath her clothes. She looked like chit, but it didn't matter. Trandoshans didn't particulare care about Human aesthetics unless they were going to sell 'em.

Her leg shot out, kicking high enough to hit the Trandoshan nearest to her in the back of the head. Her hands grabbed him as he doubled over, smashing it into the wall several times before his skull split and his brains oozed out. She blinked, surprised at how simple it had been.

But there were four more, and they had not been idle while she'd started doing her thing. Like they had on Coruscant, now two came for her instead of one. Her knives slid from beneath her clothes as she controlled them with the Force, and the flew out like a fan. It was a dance; she moved and her arms made circles as the knives rotated and swirled in the air before they began to work on the Trandoshans. It wasn't simple this time; Trandoshan skin was notoriously thick, and they were wearing armor. But even armor had weak points. Scherezade herself danced between her knives, arms and legs punching, kicking, trying to take them down. It was slower than mashing their heads into the wall, but she didn't have the time to focus on each of them separately.

It would have been easier if she'd had a partner. The two Trandoshans that she was not attacking with her knives had their rifles out. She was needing to add avoiding their slugs while fighting, while working. Sweat beaded off her forehead. She would've been much more efficient if she hadn't been drunk while pulling this little stunt off. She would've been faster if- No, she was not going to think about that, not while she was moving as best as she could to avoid getting pin cushioned. Pin cushioning was not fine when you had no idea how long it was going to take for reinforcements to arrive.

At last, her knives had managed to penetrate through one of the Trandoshan's armor, the material splitting and giving way, her knives burring themselves in his chest until there was no way for him to avoid death. Three Tandoshans left.

Scherezade closed the distance between her and the one her knives were attacking, jumping on him. Her legs wrapped around him as she brought her head to his ear, releasing a Force Scream. This was something she had done before. She knew a Scream strong enough would make his brain explode.

She jumped off him as his body fell to the ground.

Two more Tandoshas left. Now able to focus on them, she used the Force to rip the rifles out of their hands and tossed them to the side. Her concentration was entirely on them, not noticing that a sixth Trandoshan entered the room.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Among the Knights Daxton had earned another reputation, he was also called the Whisper of Death. Some would say because he tended to appear out of nowhere, emerging from shadows without warning, only to rain down fire and chaos before disappearing once again. Them there were those who whispered that the shadows were a part of Daxton, the effect of his studies into the arcane and damned. He never bothered to correct the notion, preferring that it add naturally to the mystique that surrounded him.

With his new face, he quickly made his way through the Palace, no one ever bothered a captain of the Palace Guard after all. Many prefer not to draw his scrutiny in their little endeavors. So he sought his contact after all this was supposed to clandestine.

What he did not expect was to hear sounds of fighting, as crossed a hall. Pausing to slowly open a door quietly, he spotted his contact taking out some Tandoshans. Well so much for stealth, he thought to himself as he slipped unseen into the room.

He would have been content to let her have all the fun, except he noted she was about to get ambushed. Quick as a viper, tentacles of Force rippled out and snapped the enemy before he realized what was happening, yanking off his feet and slamming his face first into the hard unyeilding floor.

“Just couldn’t resist, could you?” He chided her as he emerged into the light. “Did they see through your disguise?”

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

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Objective: 2
Location: Inside the Royal Palace
Looking like: a felacatian (holographic disguise) herself
Wearing: Servant outfit
Wielding: 12 Czirka knives, 4 Glitter Bullets, stun gun
Tags: [member="Daxton Bane"]
Posts: 4

She'd been so focused on the two remaining Trandoshans that she had not realized [member="Daxton Bane"] enter the room until she could feel the Darkside through his tentacles. She spun around to see, fearing a Sith Trandoshan for half a heart beat, but relaxed when she saw the man, giving him a half smile. Her knives still danced in the air as she battled the remaining two, and soon enough their bodies fell to the ground as well, her own body only bearing superficial cuts and bruises from the fight.

"No," she answered his question truthfully, "but there are fights in the city. I can hear them, and feel them. I decided to take matters into my own hands to avoid being caught with two little time to do what needs to be done."

With that, she walked over to the Royal Family, checking their vitals one by one. They were unconscious, but fine. Only now did she allow herself to lean against a chair, pull a bottle out, and take a good long gulp from the liquor contained within.

She knew the man, Daxton Bane. He had been there the first time the tried to wrestle Tatooine out of the hands of the Galactic Empire. He had been there on Orcus (which brought more memories to paint a miserable look on the girl's face). She was sure they had stumbled across each other on a few other missions as well.

But more importantly, she knew he possessed much more power with the Force than she did, and she was sort of preferring to drink now.

"I was going to use the Force to make the float," she explained her plan, "behind that painting is a corridor that leads to the cellar. If we can get them there, maybe put another stun blast in them, they'll be out cold for the duration of the Trandoshan massacre and won't be able to put us or themselves in danger while we're busy. Care to help me get them there?"

 

[Kurenai Yumi]

Location: Outside the Capital accompanying main task force
Equipment:Armor l Lightsaber Yari l Pistol l ACS-202 Vanquisher l Vibro Kife l The Glove Of Darth Vader
Objective: Make Way into the capital
Peps: [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]
Post: 4

A small *petw* sounded from Kurenai's pistol as she finished off the last of the slavers from the convoy her and Cardinal had just raided. Fortunately most of the slaves were recovered unscratched, most of the knights being fine, same not being said for the slavers themselves, non of then giving up, fighting to the bitter end. It was something she herself could respect, being somewhat similar to her own cultural norms, but never the less it was a loosing fight

Holstering the weapon Kurenai wandered back over to the Dominus, the sound of artillery and shot ringing out across the pains before the capital, the feeling of death streaming from it's iron walls. Things had kicked off faster then expected, but it would still be a while before any major progress happened, well from a traditional stand point, she would not put it past the CIS to have some elaborate 'in fighting scheme put in place for that extra edge in the fight.

"All the assets are secured and threats neutralized, are we moving into the city and supporting the main offensive now"? She asked a little rhetorically. though was wondering if it would be typical, guns in blazing or a more stealthy approach. She assumed that the Dominus would be able to handle both methods of attack, though it would boil down to what the other knights wanted to do, the stat of the current battle and known objectives to take along the way.

"Considering the enemy is trapped from all sides and will fight to the bitter end for even and inch of ground it may be best to act with caution, keep eyes pealed and spot them before they spot us". Knowing not how many traps or 'surprise the slavers had it would be best to keep a low profile and catch the enemy of guard.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Although he wore another man’s face, there was no mistaken the amusement as he glanced at the young woman. Reaching forward with the Force, he lifted the unconscious royal family as if they were no more than heavy sacks of vegetables.

“No need to shoot them, have placed them into a deep slumber for the next eight hours. They will probably consider what had happened so far as nothing more than a vivid dream, since we were supposed to keep them in the dark anyway.

Letting [member="Scherezade deWinter"] lead the way, he would follow her, fogging the mind of any who caught sight of their strange procession. “Any chanc, you would have anything stronger on that on hand?” He teased.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

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Objective: 2
Location: Inside the Royal Palace
Looking like: a felacatian (holographic disguise) herself
Wearing: Servant outfit
Wielding: 12 Czirka knives, 4 Glitter Bullets, stun gun
Tags: [member="Daxton Bane"]
Posts: 5

Daxton was taking care of the Royal Family, which meant that Scherezade didn't have to. That was great, since it meant she could keep her focus on other places. Not that it was needed, since he was taking care of keeping enemies away.

A pang of jealousy ran through the young Sithling. How much more advanced would she have been with her abilities if she hadn't been broken that horrible night? Would she have been closer to Daxton? Would she have been able to walk through these halls now without the memories constantly eating at her insides like ravenous worms?

She sighed, taking another swig as she led him and them into the secret servant halls. In her two days here, she had not met a single Trandoshan in them, but it didn't mean they did not know about it, or that they could not bump into one while turning a corner.

"No," she answered, "I have some Dathomiri Witch Brew on my ship but there's no hope of being able to fight with that stuff in the body. Maybe once this bs is done with I could fetch you a bottle."

Down and down they went, turning corners. Even drunk, she knew it like the back of her hand.

And at last, they arrived at the cellar where the cupboard she'd intended to use was. And of course, the room was krakking filled with more Trandoshans.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Shifting the royal family behind him and [member="Scherezade deWinter"], he wryly said, “Well it would seem we have a dance card to fill. Come I would hate to miss out on the fun.”

As he spoke he reached down to retrieve his sabers where they were strapped to his legs under his disguise. Three blades hissed in unison as he asked his opponents. “Ok who wants to die first?”

 

[Luna Vega]

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Location: Felacat, Slums | Southern Slave Quarter​

Objective: Survive. ​

Enemies: Slavers​

Shoutout: [member="Rylan Kordel"]​

Before the last flicker of sunlight- perhaps it was all in sync- the bright zing of a blaster bolt sang past her from one side, then again on the other. Luna did not have the time to react, nor to comprehend. At least, not until the bodies dropped. She staggered back, spun her gray eyes, squinting in the quickly approaching dark to find the sniper.

Then, it dawned on her. “Sniper…” Vega quickly patted herself and satisfied it was not a dream, took a step in the direction the fire came. Because clearly, if they’d missed her twice, now was the perfect time to give them a third shot. Dropping to a knee, she procured the first slaver’s weapons, shoving them in her belt. Before pillaging the second body, Luna scanned the area for the sniper and any near threat, then seized the blaster rifle.

She gave the rifle an appreciative glance… the way a man looks at a woman- hefted the stock to her shoulder, braced and pulled the trigger, releasing a round into the Trandoshan’s face. His body gave one last, violent jerk from the proximity. She spat, then drug her arm across her face, smearing dirt and blood.

“Who…” Before the pirate could make a guess as to who was on Felacat, commotion propelled her in the direction of the sniper. Now, she was just curious. Slinging the rifle over her shoulder, Luna began her tail through the streets.

The roar called and from inside the city, began the answer to a long night.

 

[Dhakarta]

Location: Coastal Felacat, Ruins
Objective: Fuel Alchemy of the Flesh

She ducked under the sagging doorway, pausing a moment to let her eyes adjust to the darkness within the ruined building. Pieces of the upper level littered the floor, but what was left seemed to be solid enough. When a step brought about a complaining groan from the building she revised her opinion to probably mostly safe, if she was careful.​

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Down.​

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She wanted to go further down, that was where she was being pulled. Deeper in she found a stairway that went lower, but it was entirely filled with debris. Too much to move with any speed herself. She briefly considered calling the droids over, but there might still be another way that didn't involve having to deal with the protocol droid. Just the thought of that made her wince. Down a hallway and into another room. For a moment she almost wrote it off, the floor having fallen in, until she realised that here was her point of ingress.​

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As careful as possible, she slid down the fallen floor, before dropping the last few feet. It was even darker here. With care she moved farther in, the air dusty and stale. With annoyance, she realised her eyes would not be able to adjust any further. Closing her eyes, she focused, the air around her shimmering with spirit ichor, before it settled into her skin, granting her the Ears of Chiroptix. Clicking her tongue she listened to the picture the sound returned to her. Now secure in what lay before her, she moved forward.​

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Finally she reached a room that was about knee high in rubble and junk. This was what had been calling her. Clicking again she listened to what returned to her. Moving into it carefully, the footing unstable, she reached out, hand finding a smooth surface. Gripping it she picked it up, finding it light and brought it towards herself. Bone. Porporite, Felacatian or Gank? No way for her to tell, not from this single bone and with as little knowledge as she had. But somewhere in these mixed remains was what she wanted. Further in she picked up several more bones from throughout the room.​

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Confident that somewhere within her collection was Porporite, she scrambled back out. Moving back to the ship that had brought her she sent out the signal to recall the droids, with whatever they'd managed to find.​

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Now the work really began.​

 

[Daisy Americus]

Objective: BYOO - Kick Butt/Take Names
Tag: [member="Mavrek Kordalas"]
Location: City Proper [Spice Den/Brothel]
Post: 2

Daisy reached out and clapped Mavrek on the shoulder once in greeting. It was a familiar action, something she could do quickly, without needing him to drop his weapon. The golden-haired woman could hear the humor in his voice and it seemed to lighten the mood of the mission just a little. It wasn’t that she didn’t look forward to carrying out a little bit of justice, but, she was aware that there would be innocent people in their way. People just following orders. Or people that didn’t have a choice.

She had never banked on being judge, jury, and executioner. Daisy just liked to shoot things. Tinker with technology. This whole liberation front was new, but, she would do her family proud. After everything that had happened on Concord Dawn freedom was important to them all. “We’ll fire a warning shot or give em a holler. Ain’t got much choice there. They use the locals as a workforce…”

It was a kind way of saying that they found a use for the pretty ones. It was a spice den. A grungy, dirty, place of despair and broken dreams. Even Daisy wasn’t naïve enough to pretend not to know what went on there. She kept her rifle positioned and aimed straight ahead, while the HUD in her purple and white armor panned out, giving her a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. “Man. These streets being so darn quiet is just creepier than a dead pig in the sunshine. It’s downright disturbin’.”

A few blocks away she could hear noise. Maybe the beginnings of victory? She couldn't quite tell. There just wasn't anything happening here. Not yet, anyway.

They made it to the flophouse without incident. Marek gave her the honors and she nodded her head sharply. The statuesque woman lowered her rifle, briefly, in order to draw back so that she could kick the locked door in. A small application of the Forcie hocus pocus made her kick that much stronger. A little too strong, actually, considering the door came clear off of its hinges. Daisy had to stop herself from saying ‘oops’ where Mavrek could hear her. Instead, she strode inside, weapon raised again. “Everyone inside this dump listen up! You slaver scum buckets aren’t in charge anymore. You can come with us peacefully or we can help you along. Maybe it a body bag if you don’ play your cards right. Chose wisely.”

DJ did not expect her demands to be met. But, she gave them the chance. The first shot that was fired missed her entirely and caused the wood near the door to explode from the impact. The Mandalorian woman dove down, going deeper into the flophouse, and promptly flipped a table for herself and her partner to hide behind. “Ah guess they want to do this the hard way!”

Her HUD showed scantily clad females running away, while others, simply hid behind anything they could find. Thankfully it was easy to tell who the real bad guys were. Most of them were great big bipedal iguanas. “You take high ah’ll take low.”, Daisy called out, before leaning to the side, taking aim, and pulling the trigger. The All-Fate that she carried with her did work and she nailed one of them straight between the eyes. He dropped his weapon and another Trandoshan jumped up and over a sofa to avoid her next shot.

“To your right Mav—The stairs!”, Daisy called out, noticing three, large lifeforms rapidly on the approach. They were very, very, heavily armed.

 

[Rylan Kordel]

Location: Felacat, Slums | Southern Slave Quarter
Objective: ​Destabilize the Slaver Scum
Enemies: Slavers
Shoutout: [member="Luna Vega"]


Quickly moving through the back streets, trying to wheel back around to the location of the pair of slavers he had killed, Rylan couldn't help but feel like he was being tracked now himself, a deeply frustrating feeling to the say the least in a situation like this. Pulling his heavy blaster pistol with one hand, and a combat knife with the other, the Knight moved to take up a position in a darkening alley way to see if his suspicion was correct about being hunted, which honestly, he could only help it was a member of the resistance or a fellow knight having maybe caught up finally, but till he could have the answer, he'd be prepared for a fight.

Dropping into position, he leveled the blaster on the entrance of the alley way he was now in, waiting, with that same cool, leveled headed patience he had used on that knoll, waiting to take out the patrol just minutes ago, at least he called it patience, when truly he was chomping at the bit to finish this op and move on to the next one "Come on... if you're out there, hurry it up already..." it was a whisper, but it said exactly how he felt.

 

[Mavrek Kordalas]

Objective: BYOO - Kick Butt/Take Names
Tag: [member="Daisy Americus"]
Location: City Proper [Spice Den/Brothel]
Post: 3


Listening to what Daisy had said about the streets, Mavrek let out a small chuckle, she certainly had a way with words, "Used something like that on an operation once time... Made for a long couple of days before the target showed up." he replied in a matter of fact tone.

When the Americus girl kicked the door straight in, he couldn't help but raise a brow in amusement, then the fire works began, he just walked in, blaster bolts smacking the area around him as he strolled casually into the building, brandishing one of the heavy blasters, but before he could focus on any particular target, both his HUD and Daisy giving him the same warning. Dropping to one knee, right arm raising, releasing a rocket from that wrist, then with a quick action, his right arm slung back as his left raised, and a twin jet of jellied fuel and flame let loose from that wrist in the direction he fired the rocket, was it over kill? Probably, but it was also heavily armored Trandoshan's they didn't always go down with any form of ease.

"I'll keep 'em busy, you clear the rest DJ." after the torrent of flame, Mavrek did lay eyes on at least one of the three and he launched himself forward tackling the bulky lizard into the wall, somehow this was turning out like the last time he was in a flop house with a Trandoshan, at least this time he had reliable back up. Pulling back, he let into the beasts face with a solid punch, having blood spew from it's mouth on to his blue and orange armor, the next attack was his kal coming up under the jaw, running the blade straight up through scaly flesh to the brain.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

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Objective: 2
Location: Inside the Royal Palace
Looking like: a felacatian (holographic disguise) herself
Wearing: Servant outfit
Wielding: 12 Czirka knives, 4 Glitter Bullets, stun gun
Tags: [member="Daxton Bane"]
Posts: 6

Dance card... Trandoshans ready to shoot them or not, the mere words send more waves of pain through the young Sithling. A dance was exactly how both she and Gerwald had described their fighting together. They had fought together, a group of Trandoshans that was out for Scherezade's blood on Coruscant not too long ago. They would never dance together again.

She staggered a step backwards, forcing herself to hold back the tears that threatened to come out. She knew she had to focus. If she wanted to make it out of here alive, if she wanted to complete the mission, she had to fight, and she had to be clear headed for that.

So she took another swig from her bottle and sighed.

Daxton was doing his thing with the lightsabers. She wasn't going to interfere. She'd never fought with him before, didn't know which moves to watch out for, and wasn't particularly in the mood to accidentally get shishkabab'd by his sabers just because she was in the way.

As she took another step back, two more Trandoshans appeared, this time behind her. That was fine. That meant they were hers. The first one grabbed her, making the dire mistake of confusing her for a helpless human girl. Scherezade spun around in his grip, her hand coming out to grab his face as she smashed his head against the wall three times before the skull cracked, shattered, and his brains came flowing out.

The second one received the same treatment, though this time it was the Force she was using, slamming his entire body, unable to find the joy she usually could when she heard bones cracking and breaking.

She just wanted this to be finished, to get on her ship, to run the krak away from Felacat and all the Trandoshans that were currently inhabiting it.

Turning around, she looked at Daxton to see if he needed help.

She sighed, taking another swig as she led him and them into the secret servant halls. In her two days here, she had not met a single Trandoshan in them, but it didn't mean they did not know about it, or that

 

[Daxton Bane]

The hiss and hum of his blades were a deadly song that played in Daxton’s head as he cut through the opponent’s facing him. Foolishly they thought their blasters would give them an advantage in this fight, so the Sith Lord was happy to show them errors in their thinking. Then without warning a piercing sensation exploded in a flowering blossom of pain and seared flesh as he took a blaster shot to the jaw. In his mind, he could feel the teeth moving, taste the blood and cooked meat that was part of his ‘face’, the cold biting air as it touched the remains of his burned tongue though the hole in his cheek.

He staggered, taking uneasy steps as his third saber returned to ready position, hovering like a scorpions tail set to sting. As he turned burning orange eyes at the Trandoshan who shot at him, and his face twisted in a horrid grin, as he said, “You, I will kill last.”

The fool turned and ran while others closed in on exposed Daxton, who held his own but was visibily much slower and was fighting more defensively as his body flooded with the Dark Side energy to repair his wounds.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]