Dominion Gangsters' Paradise | CIS Dominion of Korbin Hex

[Srina Talon]

Location: Club Dread
Tag: Darth Metus

The chuckle her Master gave reverberated through her just as easily as the bass from the music that poured from speaker’s unseen. Even if they were on some sort of holiday she would have likely responded with silence. She took what she needed from the way he moved versus the words that flowed. It was the way she had been raised. Many confused the keen eyes of an Echani and assumed it was some form of pre-cognition. They were wrong. It was a learned skill—Exactly like every other.

Regardless, he knew that.

They were perfect partners in a mission like this and most any other because they didn’t require comms nor a Force Bond to know what the other would do next. She had learned to fight on Eshan. Learned to read others, to lead, and to sacrifice. To do what needed to be done. A wide-eyed and Force Vision driven woman had taken those skills and rest them at the feet of a Sith Lord. She offered everything; and nothing. Because she had, nothing.

Nothing but a silent oath.

She would be forever loyal. Srina was not the dutiful and mindless apprentice that he may have wanted but she was the right hand that he needed. She added ice to his flame—Sharpened his natural acumen. He added power and control. It was an easy exchange. A perfect balance.

The ends of her hair tickled her skin while she moved. The svelte way she moved through the rest of the patrons made it seem as if she were made of water, only water, without muscle or bone to hinder. It likely helped that the Sith Lord followed behind her in every step to pave the way. The faux and exaggerated steps that he took were coupled with the reaching caress of someone that required his focus. He claimed to be ready and in a trick of the light, her luxurious smile became a cruel smirk that was there and gone in a flash. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Don’t feed me a fairytale.”

When they reached their target, his hand found her waist again and her form swayed close. A hand pressed lightly to his chest, reaching behind the vest, and her forehead rest lightly against his shoulder. The diminutive Echani melted against him as any woman in the club clearly would. Her Master was not aesthetically unappealing. A winning smile and perfect white teeth?

It didn’t help that he was barely dressed.

She was surprised that another club-goer hadn’t thought to try and pick him up. Or join. That would have been an interesting thing to decline. Srina let Metus do the talking with security. It suited her just fine. She could feel adrenaline beginning to rise, because soon, they would have what they had come for. That was the idea at least. Her lips curved in a saucy smirk when the passed the muscle unobstructed. It was a shame.

The Exarch almost wish the guard would have called their bluff. It would have been a pleasure to go through him like a door at the refusal. He was just as guilty as his employer that lay within. He knew what happened here, knew the laws they were breaking, and perpetrated it regardless.

It took all of her strength not to snarl, turn around, and snap his neck.

Behind the massive door that seemed to be reinforced, Srina, found the atmosphere jarring. It was no longer blisteringly hot but cold. Gooseflesh spread over her skin as sweat rapidly began to cool. She breathed in deep and for a brief second her eyes flared golden. Bled—With corruption. The terror was so thick that she could almost reach out and touch it. The part of her that had learned to feed on fear found itself teased to the surface without any effort at all.

A subtle shift caused her to glance at Darth Metus .

Gone were the terrifyingly bad skin-tight leathers. Now, he looked more like the man she knew. The sparring gear was a welcome taste of home and she quelled the rage that had begun to burn in her core. Fueled by fear. Fueled by the anger, the terror, of this place. Her eyebrow quirked and she shook her head slowly. “We wield a Force than can move mountains. Split worlds.”

“You use it to change clothes.”

She moved toward the staircase with snaking, stealth-like movements, and he would feel her scanning the area for cameras and traps. Few dungeons like this were left unprotected. Even past this phase. The Echani led the way down the staircase versus traversing toward some of the private rooms that could be found on either side of the hall on the top floor. They weren’t interested in the general actives of the everyday customer with too many credits.

They required what lay below.

As her feet touched the bottom stair a man seated at another door suddenly stood up, startled, and brandishing a stun-baton. “Hey! What are doing down here?”

“This area is restricted!”

Her hand lashed out like a whip and pressed the guard back against the door with the Force. He grasped at his neck and she raised him higher, crushing his windpipe, while her eyes flared fully to the dreaded burnt umber she had acquired. He deserved no words. No mercy. His struggles in life came to an end and she let the carcass fall. Another subtle shift sent the stun-baton flying to her hand, simultaneously, snapping a key card from his waist. When she looked back at Metus over her shoulder she tossed him the key card. The baton, she looked over curiously and decided to keep.

There was not a melee weapon in existence that she could not use.

“Finders keepers.”

 

[Darth Metus]

W R A T H​

Tag: Srina Talon

At long last, the play was over.

When the heavy door slid shut behind them, the facade had been laid to rest. Gone was the necessity of wearing gaudy attire in the name of fitting in. Gone was the need to move upon the dance floor as they had. And, while they would someday enjoy themselves in earnest - this was not that time. Now, the reason for their coming was only a stone's throw away. Now, the mission required that they suss out the source of the terror underneath their feet. There were few crimes as heinous as slavery in the Galaxy - and here, the act was being committed directly in their backyard. The ones responsible were bold to assume that a reckoning would not descend upon them.

Bold. And incredibly daft.

Shortly after stepping away from the heat of the dance floor, the Sith exercised his dominion over creation. It was an old tactic, one which had brought to life her very own Holding Aces. One which had brought to life a suit of armor years prior. Yet, now, she turned and looked upon him with mock disbelief. His lips curved into a smirk as she made her remark. They did indeed have the power to rattle worlds. And if he was going to shake the foundations of a planet, he would do so comfortably. "If I'm going to tear a man's spine out, I'll do it without a prick print in my pants." The retort was brief - yet earnest.

It would not do to liberate the oppressed with one's jewels on display. Not do at all.

Then. They advanced. The time for jesting died as they moved closer to the source of the terror. They sought out and found their means of descent. And with it, they found their first adversary. The man waved a stun baton as his weapon...and was quickly decimated by the might of the Apprentice. His throat was crushed underneath the force of her push. Good. There was no hesitation. No quarter. For certainly, none were given to the victims they had rounded up. To the Master was tossed a keycard, which he utilized at the door with haste. In the meantime, she claimed for herself a trophy from her kill: the baton.

For there was not a melee weapon in existence that she could not use.

"Losers weepers." he muttered as the door slid open. Awaiting them were a pair of guards - bouncers tasked with the protection of the lead offender. Yet behind them, the Sith could make out the sordid scene. The target sat on leather sofa, spread out like a monarch. Before him were women. Chained. Leashed. Of several species and ages. He paraded them before the others seated beside them - as if they were auctioning off livestock. For a split second, a thought wormed into the Sith's head. One which burned through their bond like wildfire. She would feel his wrath mounting at the sight. Feel the thought which ignited him so coaxing that Darkness within to rise.

What if it was Damsy? Or Srina? What if it was his loved ones on display?

They would taste his wrath as if it was.

The guards did not have time to react, for his gaze burned through them. Their tongues boiled within their mouths. Their eyes bubbled and popped. The sheer heat of his vengeance reduced the men to writhing carcasses at his feet. The Sith stepped over them, coldly advancing into the room. Ah, there were more defenders. More who would die to keep Darth Metus away from his prey. So be it. From behind the sofa came men bearing blasters. Others bearing stun batons and brass knuckles. No less than ten in number. He was going to enjoy this. His sole act was to shove those in chains out of harms way, for a salvo of weapon's fire erupted that would have claimed their lives.

Snap. Hiss. The bloodshine blade sliced into being within his grasp. Bolts began to fly back at the aggressors, creating an opening for the alabaster woman to move.

No Quarter. No mercy.​

 

[Eternal Rapture]

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Once the pair stepped inside, the airlock would begin to cycle to ensure a seal with the other vessel that sat idly in the space it abruptly occupied. Seconds passed as they waited for the air to be vented. An eternity when you expected great and terrible things to manifest in the near future. Yet, the wait would not be long; half way through the cycle the indicators turned green and the outer door parted to allow them to embark onto the other ship. Zero point five atmospheres present the displays read. Enough of something to not be completely exposed, but hell on the lungs if you tried running a marathon without the right conditioning.

First light would cast upon an unobstructed, but unlit corridor of the battered vessel. The faint groan of the surrounding structure as what little remained might seek to burst free could be picked up by audio receptors, but not the hiss of a functioning life support system nor the rumble of an active engineer compartment.

Along the corridor signs of its weathered state could be found here or there. Missing or broken panels in the ceiling or along the walls exposing lifeless or severed conduits. Various mechanical and electrical components strewn about the deck. Doors stuck partially open. Not a single lit display in sight.

Then the lights flickered twice before they snapped back on, and the subtle tremble of an active power core could be felt in the decking once more. Like the ship's abrupt appearance, an active engine was beyond the pale. Starting a cold engine of a vessel of this size took time, and it'd done it in under a second as though it had never been off at all.

Sensors might pick up an unrecognized energy signature with traces of exotic radiation not typical of a normal vessel's operation.

Tag: Ares Stone | Meili Feng

 

[Meili Feng]

Location: Ares Stone's ship
Wearing: This
Tagging: Ares Stone

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The woman arched an eyebrow, at the man, her body stilling for a moment as dark eyes tracked the helmet as it floated through the air. The breathe flowed out of her lungs, as her body snapped into motion. To her eyes the helmet looked like it was moving in slow motion, her fingers threading through the helmet as she span in a slow circle pulling it in close to her chest.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The woman’s voice was deadpan, no trace of emotion on her face aside from a glint of amusement in her eyes that was gone mere seconds later as she settled her helmet on her head. Her hand reached down to check on her weapon, making sure it was still secure in her holster before she turned away, silently padding past him into the airlock.

“That is if you think you can keep up old man.”

There it was again, that slightest hint of a challenge from an otherwise straight face, as Mei moved up to the edge of the airlock, peering through the portal at the ship as she heard Ares moving behind her, waiting for the cycling of the lock before she slipped out into the derelict ship, her eyes flicking around as she searched out any threats that might confront them.

“So, care to Tango…unless that’s a little fast for you? We can always slow it down to a waltz if you like?”

It had been a while since she'd enjoyed herself like this, the verbal banter alone was wi=orth the hours of waiting in the dark watching those ships sailing past. She'd never admit it, never let it show on her face but needling the man was fun. She'd never get away with treating one of her superiors, she'd be busted down to scrubbing the toilets with a toothbrush in a heartbeat.

 

[Redd]

THE BLACK SALAMANDERS​

Tags: Haastal Haran​

So… They weren’t the only ones attacking the smelly, drunken men with bad hygiene? For the life of the woman, she could not in a million years think of any reason that she would willingly want to seek out such sewer rats. Men who scurry around with weapons that are all but useless to them. Men who lack fighting capabilities and she was sure that if they were all thrown into a brown paper bag, then they wouldn’t be able to navigate their way out of it, let alone fight someone. It seemed as if they were a huge waste of space and somehow, someway, they had managed to avoid natural selection. Although, at least they manage to find some way of shortening their life span. The wolf couldn’t believe that the smell that she was smelling, actually belonged to a live human being and not a dead one.

”Even the vultures would not touch these men,” Redd mumbled to herself as she looked to Haastal who was once again cursing at yet another control panel. It seemed as if he did that quite a lot and her golden eyes watched him with curiosity written within. She would have gone over to him, if it wasn’t for the gun fire. So the woman waited patiently, all the while observing him try to get the old equipment to work as it should. She didn’t know much about technology, only that it was frustrating to work with, so she could sympathize with him when it came to the struggles of technology. However, she did find that she struggled more than Haastal as a whole when it came to such things and whenever he endeavored to play with consoles, her constant watchful eye was present and learning. To watch him do something where she couldn’t observe, was frustrating, but she waited out the gun fire.

Slowly the doors began to close and with the way that the metallic doors seem to groan and creak, it was almost as if it was protesting about the fact that it was being closed to prevent the people on the other side who just assaulted the control panel from being shot at. Well tough luck, Redd thought to herself, as if she was talking to the doors and telling them to put up with it. Besides, the moment that the doors closed, her footsteps carried her frame other towards her mate just as he pulled apart the console and fired two rounds into. A brow rose up and she shook her head, ”Won’t there be a control panel on the other side of that door for this particular reason?” The red woman asked as she reached a hand out to grab a hold of a piece of the console and sighed. She really needed to learn technology.

In any case, she figured that there would be a console on the other side. There had to be. It wasn’t as if the hangar was designed to hold people in a containment area, or imprison them. It would make for a shitty prison anyway, considering that they would be in a hangar full of what she would imagine as transportation avenues. A shrug of her shoulders was given then as she moved away from the panel only to follow Haastal down the corridors once again. Fingers played with the hilt of the dagger for a moment as she resisted the urge to scent the air for any kind of danger, because the last thing that she wanted to smell, was these men. It was revolting and made her stomach turn.

Yet even as Redd thought that, she came face to face with yet another elevator and she swallowed. Another death trap that could easily become a cage. Today it seemed as if it was going to be a day that she faced this fear of small enclosures; of being potentially trapped and she sighed. Her gaze shifted to her mate while her jaws tensed as she grinded her teeth. ”One of the things that I love about you Haastal, is the fact that you always seem to be challenging me at every turn. Even though you don’t mean to.” The woman finally said with a soft, yet forced chuckle before she moved to enter another elevator.​

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[Srina Talon]

Location: Club Dread
Tag: Darth Metus us

“Incredibly, daft.”, she repeated smoothly, as if the words had come from her own mind—Not his. The Force Bond allowed a general flow of information and she couldn’t help but agree with the obvious sentiment. Anyone that decided to bring the one thing into their purview that had been outlawed throughout the Southern Systems, from border to border, was a fool of epic proportions. The design of slave trade within this system was inherently flawed. There was no hiding it. They would be found. They would be eradicated—Like the vermin-scum they were.

The trap had been set, sprung, and just beneath their twitchy little noses, it was already too late. There wouldn’t be time to run because they had already entered the arena unnoticed. They had no idea whom they had just let take a look behind the gilded curtain. When terror rose up from beneath their feet, she could only swallow the growl of her inner demons. They were ever willing, ever wishing, for freedom. This was a night in which they would have their wishes granted.

None were innocent in this operation. None.

Momentarily swallowing her darkness when Metus gave an explanation of his wardrobe update the pale woman let a smirk play across pristine lips. The fact that he even bothered to justify it amused her greatly, even though, she’d mostly be pulling his leg. “You should learn to lie better.”

“State that it was a tactical choice. Now, it doesn’t scream target practice.”

It would have been an incredibly interesting scenario in which she returned to Naboo (which they had officially never left) and had to explain why the Vicelord was walking with a limp. Would she openly admit that he’d been shot in the groin? Or would they need a cover story? Sparring accident? She cleared her mind of anything unnecessary. The easy comradery had a time and place, however, it tended to cloud her. The levity distracted. Stole her focus.

Muted her rage.

It was the last thing that needed to be muzzled while they were walking into the belly of the beast. After the descent into the lower levels, she felt his approval, when swiftly dealing with the bleating guard that had the unlucky misfortune to be on rotation that evening. She was curious. Did he think that she would hesitate? Did her Master believe that she had gone soft?

Srina had always held one standard. The only good enemy—Was a dead enemy.

“They won’t get an ounce of mercy from me.”

His murmured words about losers weeping caused her to toss the stun-baton in the air and catch it seamlessly. It didn’t have a lot of weight to it, but, it was enough that she could beat someone to death if the voltage failed. It was a messy alternative but there hadn’t been room in her outfit for a lightsaber or a vibroblade. She did have her favored Holdin’ Aces on her finger, but, it almost seemed too good for this place. They didn’t deserve a quick, easy, painless end.

Her Master moved on into the next area and she could feel his blood pressure rising like a firestorm. Before she even passed the threshold, just behind him, she could smell flesh burning. They hadn’t even had time to breathe. The screams that the secret and darkest parts of her looked forward to were denied. Oh, well. There were more. A familiar snap-hiss caused her to glance at her stun-baton with a little bit of sword envy. Regardless, it would do.

The Sith Apprentice darted forward whilst the innocent were moved from harm’s way and violence began to fill the air. She darted as if her feet barely touched the ground, booted heels, or not. A whirling dervish she spun once to build up momentum before hitting the first defender square in the jaw with the baton in a downward movement. Her form dropped as fluid motion continued and she swept his legs out from beneath him. He reached for a weapon at his side and she rolled over his body to take it from the holster. Her knee pressed to his sternum she shot once at point-blank range.

This was not a fight. It was an execution.

She brought the blaster up and shot another man square in the chest. The impact sent him stumbling back, shocked, and very much so regretting a lack of body armor. The sudden sucking chest wound zapped his strength. He didn’t think about defending the owner of this horror show. Instead—He wondered about how he might live. From this breath to the next, until his breathing stopped.

Normally, they might have sent these men to the Petranaki Arena on Geonosis.

They might have had a chance.

Not today.

 

[Darth Metus]

L I B E R A T E​

Tag: Srina Talon

You should learn to lie better...

The final words of levity shared between the Master and the Apprentice were on the matter of his attire. His justification had been sound enough in his mind, yet her response was such that it caused a light chuckle to fall from his lips. It was on par with the smirk which settled upon her pristine lips. What made the moment even sweeter were the images that blossommed across their Bond. What if he had taken that unfortunate blow to the groin? What excuse would they come up? A fall? A sparring kick? An ex-lover come to make her revenge?

The mirth perished. Soon thereafter, the first guard met his end at the hands of his Apprentice.

And as the keycard flew across the room and settled into his grasp, he could feel her curiosity mounting. Why was it that he felt pride in her display of skill? Did he think that she had gone soft? That she would have given any pause or quarter to their opposition? Absolutely not. But how could any mentor not feel pride in seeing the unbridled skill of their charge? After seeing her grow from the woman on his doorstep, drenched from the Coruscant rains - it was a natural feeling. One that he bore no additional time explaining than his own thoughts.

She vowed that they would receive no mercy. No quarter were they given.

Advance. And straightway, the Sith had reduced a pair of men to ruin. Their burning flesh filled his nostrils with a familiar stench. The boiling tongues, the charred throat - he knew that sensation well. For it had been the source of his first demise when Mandalore burned. Now, he turned the agony of his death into a means of execution. They would feel the fire burn, in this life and the next. Chaos erupted thereafter - but in that chaos the pair were in complete control. The victims were moved out of harm's way and the battle began.

Srina displayed her preference right away. She slid into the fray and engaged the enemy, taking control of one of their firearms with ease. As for the Sith, his preference was might. Like his apprentice, he engaged directly at first. His blade rent clean through the barrel of the nearest blaster, then through the arms holding them. A final flourish saw a head rolling upon the floor. The next foe attempted to back pedal - a vain attempt to put distance between he and the bloodshine blade. He found a rude awakening when the Force Gripped his form.

A symphony of bones shattering filled the room. Grotesque as it was, Darth Metus twisted and turned the man's insides every which way. The crumpled heap fell and the carnage continued. They clawed and burned, sliced and shot down to the last man. When it was all said and done, the sole survivor was the man at the helm of the operation, who now sat upon the sofa with terror in his eyes. Good. Now he was feeling that which he had instilled into his victims. But there would be justice. He would be made to answer.

"You." began the Sith, holding his weapon a mere breath away from the man's chest. "Will tell me everything I want to know. Your friends. Your allies. Everyone who helped you make this travesty a reality." The vermin nodded his head aggressively, arms raised. He began to babble, attempting to plead for his life, yet that was not up for discussion. Darth Metus paused only to motion his chin towards the victims. His alabaster companion would see to their well-being whilst he dealt with the man.

"L-Look! Here, this is everything!" stammered the vermin. He shakily reached into his pocket and produced his personal device, holding it up for the Sith's inspection. Just a glance caused the man's scowl to worsen. "Shipments" were being arranged - cargo containers filled to the brim with the innocent. Darth Metus snatched the device and stuffed it into his pant's pocket, before returning his full attention to the vermin. "That's everything! Please, let me go!"

"How many times did they beg to be let go?"

The man's fate was sealed. A final shriek of cowardice left him as the saber ran him through.​

 

[Ares Stone]

wearing: xxx | tag: Meili Feng
​

Old man... who was she calling an old man. Ares was only 35, which was not old at all. He would have a bone to pick with the girl, but her reflexes more than gave her permission to call him whatever she wanted. They were almost inhuman, in fact, Ares was definitely convinced there was something more to her than what she let on. Of course he was not going to ask now. He just smiled.

"Look... I used to kill force ghosts for a living. I think if anyone might have trouble keeping up it isn't gonna be me. You wanna tango... then tango it is."

She was definitely giving him a hard time, but that was fine. It had been a while since anyone had teased him back. It was almost like having a team again. Though, that also posed other problems for the soldier. He liked working alone more than not. When it game to ghosts and other wordly things, Ares hated working alone. He had too much experience with what could wrong when working alone, and even then a team still proved to be a liability.

Ares did not want Mei to be a liability.

With all of the teasing and the banter, he actually cared about the team and the people assigned with him.

He took a deep breath in as they walked onto the ship. Everything about it screamed run away, but here they were walking right into it. The sensors on his gear seemed to be going off the charts. There was an energy being emitted from somewhere inside the ship. They either needed to find it and identify it, or run. He was going to leave the choice up to his companion.

"Which way... we push ahead or go back. But there is something very wrong here. We probably need back up.

 

[Siv Dragr]

K A R J R

Objective: [1] Eliminate Korbin Crime Boss
Tag: Hinah Dragr

The first thing that alerted Siv to a hostile presence was the metallic grinding of gears behind him. His HUD suddenly blared to life as the Mandalorian whipped around, drawing his pistol.

And then it was chaos.

"Feth," Siv spat as he dove for cover behind the Blood Eclipse. Despite the atmospheric filter of Siv's helmet, he could still smell the scorched ozone that the continuous volley of blaster bolts left in its wake. Normally he didn't want to expose his precious ship to any type of damage, but the ambush hadn't given Siv much time to choose between cover, and besides; the Blood Eclipse's hull should hold up against regular blaster fire.

Through his comm, he could hear Hinah complaining, and Siv couldn't help but agree. "Tell me about it," Siv murmured as he peeked out from his cover, lined up a shot, and sent a red bolt of plasma back at the direction of the ambush. A single grunt told him that he had hit his mark, but whatever grunt had been eliminated had obviously not been the only one, as the cavalcade of blasterfire continued. Siv glanced around, looking at his options. A firefight like this could go on for. . . the math was beyond what Siv's brain could calculate, but it would be too long nonetheless.

But, if Siv could eliminate all of them at once -- a plan was beginning to formulate in his mind, and before he'd even had time to think it through he was carrying it out. "Cover me!" Siv shouted over the roar of blasterfire as he slid out from behind the gunship and began to rush towards where the blasterfire was coming from, ducking behind large containers and vaulting over stray pieces of equipment. On his gauntlet was a set of whistling birds, that if aimed rightly could take out the entire ambush team in a matter of seconds.

Moving out past a final container, Siv's HUD adjusted target six armored grunts in front of him; the Whistling Birds whooshed out of his raised gauntlet and hit into five of them, but the six managed to roll and dodge. A quick blast from Siv's pistol managed to do the trick, though, and it sent the sixth grunt to the floor, dead. "All clear," he called out, holstering his pistol and deactivating the whirring whistling birds.
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[Eternal Rapture]

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As the ship dusted off to ferry Zadeer to more important matters, Nima stayed behind and waited on those left to find the unexpected guests.

A few punches into the terminals unlocked the door, as Redd suspected. It seemed weathered enough, however, that they hand to pile on either side and manually begin wedging the panels apart. Times like these made a woman grind her teeth impatiently. A karking door was holding them up.

Once the grinding stopped with it pulled apart enough for a person to walk through easily, the team of five slipped into the vacated hallway. With a gesture, they turned and headed in the direction of the elevator expecting whoever had been there would want to leave quickly. It was the smart play in their minds.

"Anyone out here, Boss Rho just wants to talk. You should know he doesn't kill people he wants to talk to," the armored fellow at the fore called out in case anyone was still in earshot. They weren't lying. Zadeer didn't pretend to talk only to kill someone, or kill messengers. The second you stepped outside of his door after threatening him during such talks, however, you were fair game -- so you best step quickly. Seemed reasonable to expect your guests not to threaten you; and equally reasonable to shoot anyone arrogant enough to do it the second the parlay ended by them leaving your building.

Tag: Haastal Haran | Redd

 

[Avadna Tekoa]

​

Location: Boss Zadeer Rho's Office

Avadna lifted her right arm and twisted it inward to look at her gauntlet display. A few flicks, some taps, and her green eyes scanned over the local news -- so to speak. A small grimace pulled at her facial muscles at one 'story' in particular. Oh, nothing the actual locals would see. No, these were... confidential sources. How'd she get access to them? Simple, she demanded it. Send someone into a crime infested planet with no way to stay on top of what was happening? Shove the cloak and dagger stuff and feed her pertinent information while she was on the planet.

The outer door to the Sanctum opened and a small crowd of men and women strode in. Most of their eyes went straight to an unfamiliar Torguta that occupied a seat. Natural suspicion considering they'd secured the room for the grizzled, muscular Boss Zadeer Rho to make straight for his office doors.

She didn't even try to rise from her seat, or make any effort to put out the cigarra. Once the Big Man was out of sight and the door shut, it was just her and the boys. "So," Avadna grinned around the cigarra, "have fun at the mini-golf?"

Big and Non-committal stepped through the crowd of bodies that declined responding to her verbal jab. "Boss'll see you now."

Yep, just a great, big, old conversationalist. Slowly she rose to her feet, gave a sharp tap over a tray to her cigarra, and strode out to meet the big lug. "Great talk. Let's do it again soon." Avadna pivoted on the spot and strode toward the doors that opened as she approached. The big guy's eyes seemed to take it in stride; nice to see the mental health plan around here hadn't been neglected. People were in good spirits and didn't take things personally.

"Boss Zadeer Rho of Korbin's Paradise City," the Torguta cried just after she pulled the cigarra from her lips and perched it between two fingers, "pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope business has been well." Of course the two guards in the corners of the room hadn't gone unnoticed, merely unacknowledged. Far as either party should be concerned they didn't exist -- unless you did something insanely stupid. Not why Avadna had come all this way; Confederacy had spooks that could do that, and wasn't their style long as people played nice.

She waited for the man to gesture for her to take a seat -- again -- before she did so. After settling in, the Torguta smiled as she gently tapped the cigarra over a tray. Wouldn't want to mess up the man's carpet. "I am Avadna Tekoa, representing the Confederacy of Independent Systems. As you know, the Confederacy has a vested interested in stamping out slavery and ensure an equitable market among planets to avoid the need for hostilities." Like the sort that had taken place toward the edge of the system with a neighboring world, for instance. And the little trouble their very own Vicelord and renown Exarch had dealt with just a few moments ago -- not that their identities had been fingered, but someone experienced certainly had some fun. "But we're not here to tell you how to conduct your affairs." Okay, they were, but only to a point. For most planets it wasn't a big deal, for Korbin... probably be a little give and take involved. "So, to avoid wasting your time when I'm sure your schedule's full, where would you like to begin?" A club had been attacked, and another Crime Boss was under siege... Paradise City was certainly a busy little port.

 

[Hinah Dragr]

Objective: 1
Tags: | Siv Dragr |

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It's not as if Hinah had come all this way and not expected a fight - or several of them, in fact. Just the very nature of this job had suggested otherwise. Plenty of fighting, plenty of breaking things, plenty of blowing stuff up if she had her way about it! But what she had not expected was to quite literally walk off of the ship and get caught immediately in a firefight. "I'm gonna need advanced warning before the next ambush takes place!" she let out, though of course knew that's not how an ambush worked. Didn't change her being a smartass about it though.

Occasionally she would shift around her own cover and fire shots back in the direction of the incoming fire, but from her position it didn't do her a whole lot of good. She growled in frustration, and started to reach for one of the charges she had on her person when Siv's voice cut through to her instead. "Wait, why? What are you--" but he was already moving, and Hinah cursed under her breath before she moved out from her own cover so that she could make sure he managed to keep him from getting gunned down to the best of her ability.

The Whistling Birds seemed to do the trick and then Hinah's arms fell to her sides. "Should have just let me blow everything up." she let out, and while counterproductive to the ultimate goal here, it would have at least made her feel better. She then made her way past Siv to the remaining bodies, frowning down at them. "Should we check them? See if they have anything we might need?" Like what she didn't know, but it was a question worth asking regardless.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Wrong Acct.

 

[Eternal Rapture]

Lawless.

And without a government under New Management.

The Travel Advisory would remain in effect while the newly formed coalition of entrepreneurial leadership established some ground rules for residents. There was sure to be some displeasure at first, and the Confederacy would be there to help smooth things over -- and keep Zadeer Rho from going to unsavory lengths to do it.

While unlikely to become the poster-child of the Confederacy, Korbin would eventually find a place among the other worlds and realize the benefits that came with a little governance. Even Nar Shaddaa had a hand in the shadows keeping it from falling apart. Avadna Tekoa afforded Korbin's new leadership of certain assurances they could remain their 'culture' so long as slavery and piracy were no longer officially condoned. Legitimate business should help take care of the unofficial connections in time -- or so the understanding was reached between parties to avoid any unnecessary regime changes.

Meanwhile, other Crime Bosses that weren't so fortunate to fall in line found themselves subject to various activities on the ground disrupting their networks or striking the head off their organizations in short order. It had been a busy day; one which had Zadeer Rho coming out on top just as he'd planned, though with a bit more oversight than he would have liked.

So, stop by, visit the clubs, see the sights... in a month or two. Think of it as your haven for trouble without Hutt slime everywhere -- someone's bound to put that on a brochure.

Note: From this point, the Dominion will be submitted for review. This does not mean the thread has ended - feel free to continue your stories!​

 

[Maple Harte]

Just as Aria Nox spoke, the gunfire from further down started up again. Louder and louder it grew as the screams of the dying grew more intense...

A door burst open ahead of Aria, a woman in a white catsuit, different from the one Maple had already killed, was flung head first into a wall, crushing the skull in a burst of white blood and a rotting yellowed brain ridden with parasites. This was followed by three bowler hatted men retreating, firing assault blasters at whatever was pursuing them.

Two shots in quick succession through two of the Merc's skulls, and four through the arms and legs of the third mercenary ended all notions of resistance.

Maple Harte stepped through the doors, powered cane in one hand. Pistol in the other. She stepped on the remaining merc, and began brutally beating him with the cane. He was barely conscious, face swollen and bloody when she stopped, yanking him by the shirt.

Maple looked like a cute, petite, albeit athletic woman, but in the face of such savagery, the outright murder playing out on the Bounty Hunter's face at having been captured by them, made it nearly impossible to notice how cute she actually was. Her body language and death glare screamed Practiced Killing Machine.

"Where. Is. My. Ship?" She asked quietly, not shouting as others might have. The pain she had imparted would induce most of the fear better than shouting.

"We sold it..."

Maples pupils narrowed to dots. A blade from the cane hovered over his throat.

"To who?"

"Solaanos The Hutt. He's on Korbin..."

"Is he..." Maple shot him with a stun bolt, before noticing Aria and her friend.

Maple coldly pointed her weapon at both of them, setting it to kill.

"Friends of theirs? Or just curious? Not a whole lot to be curious about." she remarked. Keeping a weapon on them.

The Witch corpse started to rise. Maple pulled out a disruptor from her jacket without taking her eye off them and atomized the corpse.

"Especially not that."

 

[Saram Kote]

THE PLAN​

​

Tag: Aselia Verd | Torrack Torrackstur​

Friendly Forces: Vuhyr'yalilyr squad 'Davaab'.​

Location: Korbin, Industrial District, Korbin Freightways Warehouse 4A​

"Acknowledged, we'll be waiting," she replied before terminating the connection. Ran gave her a look from where he was crouched, but she ignored him for the moment. She very much knew that not all Karjr were the same, and she'd reserve her judgement of Torrack for when she met him. What intrigued her is that he sounded like a Gamorrean. If he indeed was, she couldn't think of a better diversion than one executed by a Gamorrean Mandalorian.​

​

Saram instantly recognized the incoming IFF. A smile flickered across her face as she watched Aselia Verd land. "Well shab, alor, I take it back. Call for backup anytime you like," said Ran, clearly recognizing Aselia as well. Of all the people who were on planet, Saram didn't expect Aselia to be there, or else she'd have asked her to accompany them from the outset. She'd seen what Aselia could do, and it was a skillset that unless they were operating deep behind enemy lines, she'd certainly not mind having along.​

​

"Well, we wouldn't be very good at what we did if we went around announcing we were around, would we?" said Saram, still smiling underneath her helmet. "Didn't know you were on planet either, vod, or I'd have asked your help in showing the shabuire what happens when they mess with the CIS." No sooner than Aselia had made her entrance did the Karjr arrive. He was about what Saram expected, and she was not disappointed at all. She let out a slight chuckle at his remark.​

​

"Now's probably a good time to give you two a briefing, isn't it?" she asked rhetorically, pausing for a moment before continuing. The shabuire we're after is a company called Korbin Freightways. Recently, CIS patrols caught some pirates were caught with stolen CDF weapons. Through questioning and some digging, it was ascertained that the CDF weapons were being smuggled by Korbin Freightways. The shabuire in charge is one Artral Dalarand. We've been monitoring the warehouse for some time now. Our intel's pretty solid. Dalarand is in there, but we haven't been able to confirm that the weapons are in there too. Preferably, we need Dalarand alive. Anyone else is fair game. I'll leave it to my second in command, Ran, to run over hte plan." ​

​

"'Lek, right...with the two of you here, the plan just got that much easier. The alor and our other marksman, Viraen, will stay up here and provide overwatch for us for the first stage of this plan. In the meanwhile, you two will hit the main entrance with Anila, our explosives expert, and Janar, one of our heavy weapons specialists, providing direct support. I'll take our other heavy weapons specialist and use your distraction as cover to hit any reinforcements heading for the main entrance. This'll let our technical expert, Jaing, and Rusana take the long range comms antennae. With long ranged comms out, our short range jamming will keep them from calling for help. The only problems at the entrance are the pair of repeating blaster cannons, and there's one or two shabuire with a missile launcher. Rest of the di'kute've only got heavy blaster rifles. Should be a piece of uj'alayi," said Ran, pointing out each member of the squad as he spoke.​

​

Saram nodded in approval, "Questions? Concerns? Last moment thoughts? Someone forgot to use the freshers?" ​

 

[Meili Feng]

Location: Ares Stone's ship
Wearing: This
Tagging: Ares Stone

​

A dismissive wave of a hand as the woman pivoted on one foot, her movements showing that easy grace that was most often seen in dancers. A lifetime of combat, of martial arts training, had imbued her with a level of comfort with her body and a grace of movement that could only come from countless hours of practice. Even walking backwards into the derelict now, her gait was steady and sure, eyes darting around herself constantly checking her surroundings for any movement or any threats.

“So, then old man experience...tell me, how exactly do we handle these force ghosts? I guess we can’t just stab them or shoot them, so is there a special trick or do we wait for someone who can,”

Her hands made a waving gesture in the air.

“You know tear apart the very matter of space and time around us come in and exorcise them or something.”

There was no such thing as ghosts, they were just fairytales, the kind of stories that your mother told you when you were younger to scare you into behaving. ‘Eat your vegetables or the ghosts will get you.’ ‘We don’t go into the woods, that’s where the ghosts live and they love to eat little girls.’

Of course, that had just ended with her 6-year-old self arming herself with her father’s knife and a large stick and ‘invading’ those woods in order to find and defeat the ghosts which purportedly lived there. She’d spent hours traipsing through the trees, poking at piles of leaves and making faces at the animals till she’d returned home covered in dirt but proudly exclaiming that she’d scared all the ghosts away and could they go and have a picnic there tomorrow.

Needless to say, her mother hadn’t been amused.

Now though, there was an undefinable element to the derelict, the way it had just appeared and that feeling, like something, was just pressing in at the edge of her vision, the faintest of whispers. Something was off about the ship, but she had just put it down to nerves and her partner’s ghost stories.

The petite woman span, one hand resting on a cocked out hip as she arched an eyebrow at Ares.

“Since you know what we’re dealing with, what’s the play?”

 

[Ares Stone]

wearing: xxx | tag: Meili Feng
​

There was a tone to the girls voice which told him she did not quite believe in the idea of actual ghosts. Ares might have agreed with her had he not seen a lot of inexplicable things that were very very real when they were not supposed to be. His world for a long time had been spent fighting or capturing what could not be explained. Even the force, as mysterious as it could be, was not the weirdest thing the galaxy had to offer.

"I did not bring what we needed for force ghosts."

His answer was matter of fact, lacking the sarcasm or playful banter their conversation seemed to be generating. Everything felt wrong, and Ares was regretting the fact he had let them on the ship. He should have insisted they wait for back up, but the curiosity of why the ship had appeared form nothing had gotten the better of him. Ares was not used to these missions without a proper fire team, or the right equipment. A skeptical partner was a far cry from the team they needed if there was an infestation of ghosts on the ship.

"Exorcisms... that's pretty cute," Ares offered with an unamused smile. "The first ghost I encountered was tied to an artifact that I was sent to recover for a client. Unfortunately some one else got to it before I could and released the thing. Had to destroy the artifact to kill the ghost. Supernatural problems do not always require supernatural solutions. Though... sometimes they help."

A long sigh left Ares lips. They were on the ship, so they should explore, at least try an find any evidence as to what happened. The soldier knew he was going to kick himself for the decision he was about to make, but other than running, what choice did they really have. This was an assignment after all.

"I'm not sure it's actually ghosts... just... this has ghosts written all over it. If it is though, our best bet will be to get out of here. Let's head to the bridge and see if we can access any of the logs, but stick to the main corridors hmm? If we need to leave in a hurry that's our best bet."

Ares started heading toward the bridge just before turning his head back over his shoulder.

"Oh and if I say run... you run back to the ship... got it."

 

[Torrack Torrackstur]

Location:Korbin, Industrial District, Korbin Freightways Warehouse 4A
Tags: Aselia Verd Saram Kote
Obejective: Help with the front assault

"Following a lady, squeak squeak ? Ill gladly watch her back, hoink hoink!" . The enforcer said playfully to the mad women ready to assault the gates of this criminal complex with explosives . Mandalorian humor tended to be crude, others would likely get their poor feelings hurt over such a comment. Tho the Gamorean wouldn't care much, what mattered was that he understood the plan. Armed and dangerous, Torrack followed Aselia, who was caped and looking rather fearsome to the smiteful crusader. Tho he would be much slower in his crusader custom beskargam, that were accompinied by his shorter legs. The sturdy and well build being would make up for it in a disciplined pace that allowed him to sprint longer. This allowed him to stay somewhat close to his ally.

One of the unfortunate downsides to his armor was that he had no jetpack, which meant his counterpart would need to do most of the flanking. Somthing he wouldn't have any other way, the mandalorian had grown accustomed to being the forward assaulter. With giant heaps of strength, feriocious will , and beskargam. He wouldn't just be bait, but a scary distraction for the others who would have to deal with the full frontal attack he would conduct with his partner. "When we get in position, squeak squeak Ill fething cover you. You blow that entrance up,squeak squeak and then we will wreck these gutless nark hearders! squeak squeak" . When she was ready, he would give her cover with suppressing fire against the unsuspecting guards. The heavy repeater would blare with rage, "PEW PEPWPEWPEPWPEPWEPWPEPWEPWPEWPW!" .

One thing you could always count on when fighting with a gamorean, even a mandalorian one. Their aggressive nature guided many of their actions in combat. As bodies would start to drop, the bucye of the blue armorclad being would shout "OYA!" .