Investigation of Whispers - GA Dominion of Dorsis Hex

[Rekha Kaarde]

Location: Dorsis - entering warehouse district
[member="The Prince"]s | and anyone in this area

There was nothing lush or welcoming about the path they were walking. They wound through the streets and walkways as if they following a snake winding in and out around, and back. Maybe it was something simplier maybe they were making sure they weren't being followed.

She stepped back stopping when she could to observe or make some kind remark to someone along the way. She wanted to blend in and make them think they were ok. She almost lost them at one point she stood talking far too long. She began to think what if this was a big bust. What if they were just two guys looking to make a deal like so many others across the galaxy.

What if.

Feth she asked that question a lot. For every what if though she found some bit to hang onto that said, no this is more..keep going. She looked around and saw the familiar outlines of warehouses. Large buildings filled with who knew what but that was the beauty of it the building blended in, could hold anything, and no one suspected when a lot of people when in and out, or shipments came and went. It was a great place to run a business out of - what kind of business is what she needed to find out.

It was more difficult to stay out of view now. She quickly bartered for a scarf which she wound around her neck and the lower half of her face. The only feature that stood out her eyes. She hesitated when she came around the corner the two men were standing still talking with someone else, a look out maybe?

That was a minor problem. Course there were probably other things that were problems...she looked up surveillance equipment. She leaned on the wall and watched as the two men disappeared into the warehouse.

Now what Kaarde? She thought to herself.

 

[Muad Dib]

His eyes observed the two nearing the bar. Reaching into a pocket he pulled out a fistful of credits and slammed them on the bar, several bouncing along the length. The bartender approached with a brow raised as several of the patrons near him looked at him with a combination of curiosity and envy at the show of wealth. Pointing with an overly exaggerated hand around to the bar Muad shouted.

"A round of drinks on me!!!"

The chorus of cries and swell of bodies headed to the bar to get their orders in as Muad motioned for the bartender for a moment.

"I don't care what swill you serve them, give me the bottle of your highest alcohol content, two beers for my friends, and keep the rest as a tip mate."

The bartender nodded and reached into a crate under the bar pulling out a bottle and setting it before the Mad Man. Two beers appeared before he moved off and began filling orders, a smile on his face. Taking the tumbler he grinned lightly as he received several back claps of thanks. In the mirror he watched as the two plain clothed Sith were forced to rise and follow the masses toward the bar to remain unnoticeable. Which brought them closer to Muad.

It was almost time to play.

[member="Mishel Noren"] I [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Location: Dorsis
Objective: Customs control

"It appears that, by having cargo but not a manifest, you are hereby flagged for suspicious activity, related to Coruscant First"

"C...c...Coruscant First?" the barge's captain asked, clearly nervous.

"Coruscant First is a threat to the Alliance's internal security: surely you wouldn't..."

The bickering between the Alliance security forces and the barge's crew became more pronounced and a standoff made everybody onboard these ships nervous, especially since the boarding parties found several weapons in the cargo hold. Heavy mortars, alongside their respective ammunition. Larger and heavier than any of the mortars in GADF ground service, and the GADF used Jairdain 120mm mortars as their largest mortars. Why would Coruscant First even want mortars? What sort of backers would even want CF to have access to field artillery? It starts to get irksome, and Sith typically don't deal in field artillery - as we have seen on Thyferra, they have very scarce heavy ground weapons and they have to make every single of them count, so who could supply them those mortars? she thought, while receiving a most troubling report from those people searching the AT-AT barge for signs of suspicious activity, as 160mm mortars, as well as 220mm mortars, have been found in the cargo hold, alongside a few hundred mortar shells of each caliber. Something definitely wasn't right here.

"Admiral, we located a cache of heavy weapons: larger mortars than we have ever seen in service, and their ammunition"

"Get a technical scan of those mortars if and once they are seized!"

Spoiler: Fleet

Capital ships:

ANS Immobilizer 422 (Immobilizer 422-class interdictor carrier)
ANS Sentinel (Sentinel-class cruiser)
ANS Cygnar (Cygnar-class frigate)
ANS Job Engorgement (Skor-class monitor frigate)
ANS Task Significance (Skor-class monitor frigate)

Attack craft:

120 Chiloon-II fighters
56 Neimoidian Gunships

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Starchaser was not sure what he’d be running into around these parts, but he was going to do the Jedi thing anyway. It was what they were there for, the wall between everyone. And one thing he was needed for was to help share his teachings with the next generation, for them to be something to grow beyond, in a way. But first, he had to lay down the baseline of his knowledge with her.

Smirking as she turned from the bar, he nodded. Stepping inside, he surveyed, looking with his eyes, and somewhat the Force, to find what he really needed. The contact, or the telltale sign of a Sith. Still, nothing. “Just keep your eyes peeled.” He whispered, allowing it to only be heard by her. “When you’re focused, everything else becomes… easier.”

The call of more drinks made Coren grin, distraction, someone was doing something out here. He prodded Mishel in the Force and made his way with the crowd. What he was looking for was the Sith, there. He couldn’t pinpoint them, but he knew they were about. Danger sense was tingling. “Careful.” He whispered again, heading to the source of the ruckus.

[member="Mishel Noren"]
[member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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Warehouse S-323, Dorsis, Dorsis System, Corellian Sector, The Core Worlds​

Interacting With: [member="Koda Fett"]​

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A power coursed through Aryn like it had only once before, the force echoing within him as the void within his core drew in everything around, siphoning off what connections to the force it could, feeding the anger which flowed through the Supreme Commander, the strength that he had locked away, ignored, and neglected since taking up the force. He knew exactly what it was, and indeed, he knew why he had never clung to it before, never allowed it to surge through him as it did now, but this time it had a purpose, he could turn it against a greater evil, against this man, this monster who had caused such death and pain across the galaxy. This was what Aryn told himself, what allowed him to push forward as he tapped into it, but it didn't change what it was.

The Dark Side.

As he hurled another crate, Aryn watched the Mandalorian shift his body and begin to spew flames from his gauntlet, closing the distance with Teth quickly. Not bothering to halt the mans advance, Aryn instead bent his knees for a moment to leap upwards, using the force to accelerate his jump as he flew high over the bounty hunter, allowing Fett's momentum to bring him closer to where Teth had once been as the Jedi steadied himself at the peak of his jump, hands reaching out and the force flowing from them to grasp two more crates on either side of the aisle he had stood in before.

Closing his arms, he clasped his hands together and watched as the crates moved suddenly to echo the movement, each closing in towards eachother at a considerable speed, with the bounty hunter right in the middle between them. Ideally, Aryn would have turned Fett's advance against him, if things went to plan, the fight would be over almost as quickly as it had begun, with the Mandalorian crushed like an insect between the two durasteel crates. Unfortunately, Aryn doubted that would truly be the case, much like himself, Fett had always proven frustratingly difficult to kill.

 

[Lemon]

DORSIS

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DORSIS SYSTEM, WAREHOUSE S-323

The Mandalorian had seen the Jedi grow in age, mind, and power throughout the time they had crossed paths. A measly pilot quick on the draw, a fledgling Jedi, a beacon of hope, and finally a man who walked a very dangerous line between the light and the dark- whether Koda found himself working alongside Teth in the future was a question capable of crossing his mind. The Sith? They corrupted everything they touched, and not even Aryn Teth, Supreme Commander of the Galactic Alliance was able to avoid such a twisted and terrible fate. In the end, however? The Bounty Hunter didn't care all too much as to what they did, their credits were good, and they created more than enough opportunities.

​Deafening sounds of metal on metal echoed throughout the warehouse, and even the outside. Crates tore through walls, impacting on the surrounding buildings, crushing anything in it's wake- possibly people, perhaps his own. Surely this was a sign that Aryn had entered a much darker place. The force always was a blessing and a curse, for whilst Teth indulged himself in this so-called dark side, Fett remained pure in a manner of speaking. In no way was he truly pure of heart, intent, this, that, or the other. Was he a bad man, or a victim of circumstance? It didn't matter much now.

​Fett's right arm raised above his head whilst Teth performed his acrobatic movement over the top of him, attempting to light him aflame, still. It persisted in it's lengthy arc, falling mere inches from Aryn's tender skin before the two crates came into play. The Mandalorian ceased his attack, thrusting himself onto his own back whist the crates slapped together centimetres above him, reflecting in his visor. Whilst his blaster hung in it's sling, Koda's left hand slapped onto his right gauntlet, activating his jetpack. He skimmed across the ground as flames spat with aggression, coming clear of the crates not a moment too soon.

Perhaps in previous times the Mandalorian would of dubbed enclosing on a Jedi a poor choice of actions, but now? It seemed that was his only option.

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[member="Aryn Teth"]

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Dorsis​

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Random Cantina #331​

[member="Muad Dib"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]​

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"When you focus everything else becomes easier, blergh." Mishel mocked Coren and then scoffed when he nudged her through the force.

She took her hands out of her pockets and then heard the call for free drinks. Oh, oh that would be - nope, she was not going to be able to resist that. So she sauntered to the bar and ordered up one of her favorite drinks. "Can I get a Zeltronian Toxic Tonic? But with double the Brentaalian Gin." It was here she heard Coren talk about being careful, aw what are your Skywalker senses tingling? Mishel once again mocked, rather, teased as she took her hand to the glass. Sweet, sweet alcohol a terrible habit that the First Order introduced her to - well she introduced herself to it but it was with their help. She was sure of that at least and just as she was about to take a sip she could feel something was off. A sigh as she set the drink down a moment and took a deep breath, the Tygaran pushed the sounds of the cantina out and focused.

For the record this sucks.

Call for drinks was a distraction and one she had gladly bit into with her back to the bar, and hand on the counter the other moved to hold her drink.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Location: Dorsis
Objective: Customs control

"We have detected strange new weapons in your cargo hold, weapons on which there is a moratorium until their status can be fully determined. How do you explain carrying heavy, experimental mortars in the cargo hold?"

"I... I am not sure... I can't say where we got them from or our client will slit our throats upon delivery!"

A common smuggling tale; secrecy was often key for the success of those things, and those smugglers counted on the heavy traffic on either end of the road to avoid detection, knowing that security cannot inspect every ship going in or out a system as densely trafficked as Dorsis or Coruscant. But Coruscant First is not the only one they can suspect to be the smuggler's client if the client was, in fact using or bartering experimental heavy field artillery. Terrorism was also known in dealing with heavy weapons such as these ones, and if, in fact, CF was to be the client taking delivery of these mortars, it would likely mean that they have non-Sith backers, given, of course, the dark-siders' propensity to not deal in anything remotely resembling indirect fire. The white Twi'lek seemed puzzled: from her recollections, the heavy mortar-using factions were mostly their allies. Yes, the Alliance also used mortars in their ill-fated assault on Varonat, but there were no trace of the Jairdains used by the Alliance after their retreat. So knowing who supplied them the mortars was a lead worth exploring. Perhaps it was some Silver Jedi mole, perhaps it was a disgruntled element among the GADF; these two seemed the most likely.

Spoiler: Fleet

Capital ships:

ANS Immobilizer 422 (Immobilizer 422-class interdictor carrier)
ANS Sentinel (Sentinel-class cruiser)
ANS Cygnar (Cygnar-class frigate)
ANS Job Engorgement (Skor-class monitor frigate)
ANS Task Significance (Skor-class monitor frigate)

Attack craft:

120 Chiloon-II fighters
56 Neimoidian Gunships

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: [Warehouse S-323] - Dorsis, Dorsis System, Corellian Sector, The Core Worlds
Interacting With: [member="Koda Fett"] & [member="Aryn Teth"] & [member="Darth Metus"]

Normally, Srina missed nothing. Normally, Echani eyes let her view the world in a way that most only dreamed. She was trained to pick up on the smallest changes in her environment, and yet, while using the Force to follow the fight with the Supreme Commander and his archenemy apparent—she did not feel the presence of her Master until it was already there. A momentary cold, a chill, followed by a small expanse of time where the limits of reality seemed to stretch a little too thin. This was the power of Darth Metus. Unchecked, and fathomless.

The demon that appeared before her was fearsome. It could have made the strongest of men wet themselves and flee in terror. The small apprentice remained unmoved. Silver eyes flickered, shining with starlight, as she followed a battle neither of them could see. The black within [member="Aryn Teth"] was rising with the thickness of tar. It was all-consuming. For a Jedi, he held such hate, that Srina was almost startled by it. Darth Metus, in the guise of a shade, or a wraith, asked of his appearance and a pale smirk crossed over primrose lips. “Like sithspawn.”

She would know him anywhere. If she were blind, deaf, and made numb, she would still know him. Ever since he has started hiding himself within ravens to keep an eye on her throughout the galaxy she had learned how to see him. Srina could be fooled once. Not twice.

“You do realize, Master, that we are in the heart of Alliance territory. They will not react favorably to this new puppet you have summoned.”

That was an exceedingly polite, well-worded, understatement. They barely tolerated her, without a Sith Lord at her back, and she took great care not to use devastating abilities that were associated with the darkside while assisting their Supreme Commander. A Sith, for all of their efforts, was still a Sith. They would always be seen as the enemy no matter what overtures they tried to make to correct the sins of the past. Collective punishment may have been considered a war crime in some parts of the galaxy, but all rights, were entirely sacrificed when their people got involved. “I’m surprised no one has started shooting at us, though, you should teach me this new trick when I get home.”

Rooftop positioning or not—the Alliance had just as many eyes as the Empire. Also, it wasn’t as if they were making any efforts to hide.

There was activity on the other end of the warehouse. She doubted, with all the fury rolling through Aryn, that he had noticed, but she could feel lifeforms peeling away from the scene at a rapid rate. Was the fight ensuing within merely a distraction?

The snow-kissed woman breathed in sharply when felt a rush of darkness that belonged neither to herself nor to the ominous specter that floated before her. Her eyes fell upon the visage of her Master without hesitation. Her iris had changed, burning slow, before they began to show a yellow-gleam. “Do you feel that? He’s…”

Breaking.

Drowning.

“Falling.”

Darth Metus held no love for Aryn Teth. Absolutely, positively, none. The Sith Lord had a nation to run and didn’t often get involved with the day to day errands that Srina endured to keep the relationships with their allies intact. She could feel everything she cared for in the Supreme Commander shatter, change, and turn to something she no longer recognized. Slowly, she came to stand, and a soft breeze stirred moonlit waves of ivory hair about her shoulders. A hatred that was not her own flowed through her, like poison on her tongue, though she still remained self-aware. A pale hand reached for the incorporeal monster than Darth Metus was projecting. Softly, it moved through him, disturbing what he was as if he was made of little more than smoke and air.

It was as she had suspected. His body was lightyears away. But his mind, was here. His personality, his power, here. He would feel her distress.

“Would you do something for me?”, she questioned quietly, mostly rhetorically, since she knew what the answer would be. Yellow-ringed eyes of silver looked up at the shade with the soft and empty innocence of a youngling. With faith. Trust. “The Commander is in danger. Perhaps, not entirely from his opponent alone, but from himself. The man he fights…”, she trailed off slowly, gently, lifting the name from Aryn’s errant thoughts. “…He has something I require.”

“Bring me his heart.”

Srina did not need to remind her Master that Aryn had saved her on Tatooine. Without him, without his quick thinking, she would not be among the living. Often, Darth Metus used the language of her people to refer to her. He called her precious. Would he not repay the debt he owed to the man who kept his precious apprentice safe? Who, had kept her heart beating, when he had not?

“This kill must not be his. Let it be our darkness, my Master. Our Confederacy is neutral. Yet, they never let us forget, that we are Sith…”, she spoke quietly, for perhaps the first time, on Alliance protected soil. “Tonight...Let us be Sith.”

​

 

[Rekha Kaarde]

Location: Warehouse District, on the roof
Enemies [member="The Prince"]
Allies ?

Rekha looked at the building across the way it was the closest one to where the men had gone in. So options..climbing or something else...she looked over at the door where the men had gone in. She could do something outlandish and try to get in, or she could keep her head down.

Sighing heavily as she came to the decision Rekha made her way across to the other warehouse she looked at the stacked containers offset slightly to even out the weight, and they had a few handles..looking back she checked to see if anyone was looking. She reached up pulling herself up to stand on the first handle, her toes barely had enough room to make it so she wouldn't fall, then she pulled herself up to the top.

Looking down she was proud of herself that she had managed this first one, she now had two more to go. She needed to stay out of sight if anyone noticed it was game over. She began the slow climb upwards looking back occasionally to make sure she wasn't getting any attention. She also had to spot out the cameras and hope they hadn't picked her up. She could feel the burn in her muscles as she moved. The beating she had gotten was making it difficult to go faster.

She began thinking to herself to pass the time till she could reach the top. So, should I buy another location for a bar? Maybe I should expand into something else all together. I sure do miss the thranta rides. Maybe....a yacht...a boat...a...sail barge........a party ship...........Ohhh...yeah...a party ship....I can go to ....Spira........or.....to the city of Canto Bight.

She finally reached the top looking back a wave of dizziness hit her dropping her to her knees. She was slightly out of breath now she had to get on the roof and go over to the other side...looking up she noticed...the roof was curved.

Feth...how do I do that???!!!!

Digging in she scrambled up standing on the edge there was a railing probably for roof repairs...she looked both ways it went around...but what about over. she looked back into the dark. She could feel the trail of sweat running down her back..she began inching along the rail hoping for something anything...then she saw them hand rails for climbing to the top. WOOHOO!

Just knew there had to be a way over.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Location: Dorsis
Objective: Customs control

"The Exchange... most puzzling, admiral" a security guard reported back to the CIC.

"They have their hands everywhere in the galaxy although they seem rather low-key in Silvers territory if that's where I think they stole those mortars from"

Silvers knew that they needed to have some measure of indirect-fire artillery that carries unguided ammo. Mortars don't seem to be one's regular underworld weapons. On top of that, the Exchange renting this ship, or outright owning it, was puzzling. So, once the moratorium ends, the GADF look into acquiring those very heavy mortars the smugglers were apparently trying to conceal to Coruscant? she thought, while conjuring what little she knew about the weapons used in the underworld on the ground: mostly small arms and suppressive fire. The underworld didn't seem to want to use such noisy weapons unless they were terrorists, not in her recollections of what smuggling heavy mortars meant. Now, there was only one manufacturer in the galaxy that would sell mortars of that caliber to the GADF, and she would think it would be straightforward for them to sell the 160mm and 220mm mortars to the GADF. She was, in fact, pretty familiar with their offerings, especially as it pertained to starship components. ERA, rapid-fire turbolasers, waste heat recovery devices, avionics, to name those that were household names to her.

"Seize those mortars, and arrest the captain: the people using the ship are guilty of smuggling heavy weapons"

Spoiler: Fleet

Capital ships:

ANS Immobilizer 422 (Immobilizer 422-class interdictor carrier)
ANS Sentinel (Sentinel-class cruiser)
ANS Cygnar (Cygnar-class frigate)
ANS Job Engorgement (Skor-class monitor frigate)
ANS Task Significance (Skor-class monitor frigate)

Attack craft:

120 Chiloon-II fighters
56 Neimoidian Gunships

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Dorsis​

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Random Cantina #331​

[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"] | [member="Muad Dib"]​

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It may have started with a simple 'shoulder bump.'

It may have been innocent enough.

It may as well have just started with a bang.

Mishel stood there waiting for Master Magical-Feeling-Jedi to figure out what they were going to do. Doing her best to avoid people and avoid what had occurred, the shoulder bump and an excuse you went unanswered. A second shoulder bump this one harder and Mishel kept a growl sequestered, but the third bump? The third bump resulted in a dangerously sober Mishel flipping a tray over using an old Force pull to grab it out of the air and smash it against someone's head. This led to a beer bottle being cracked over her other shoulder and two good shoves into the sabaac tables later here they were.

A fist connected with a jaw and the former Ren felt the impact as she went flying across the room.

She threw down a raging fist of fire, force sped into her opponent and chucked them into the ceiling.

She swore she could hear Samka taunt her, 'not very Jedi-like if you ask me.' Ah, kark off Mishel would utter under her breath and feel the pain of a foot in her ribs, she turned to catch it and move the owner of said leg to the ground.

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

Dorsis​

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Directly engaging [member="Mishel Noren"]​

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Mishel would soon discover that the leg wasn't about to move so easily. Not that it would be the first concern that would potentially cross her mind. It wasn't because the owner of the foot had ill intent. The pressure given was enough to suggest the young woman stay down.

For her own good at least.

No, what might potentially cross Mishel's mind when she drew her attention upward was a pair of bright, cobalt eyes. Bright cobalt eyes and a thick mass of two-toned umber and blonde hair slicked back into a high ponytail. The woman was dressed in muted clothing and a black leather jacket. Nothing to insinuate that she was anything other than another leather loving spacer who was in the wrong cantina at the wrong time.

However, nothing ever seemed to really just be a coincidence for the Omega Pyre Prex. In particular, meeting face to face with the young woman Aeron had found herself fighting months earlier -- on Skor.

"You should probably stay down, kid," Aeron said plainly. The Omega Pyre was restructuring, so Aeron was technically off the clock. It was moving towards a more neutral security minded force along the hyperlanes. Which meant really glorified watch dogs.

Dorsis was a planet that could potentially hold a location for them. Of course, things always had to go to shit.

Like in this particular brawl fight.

That was about the time some punk came at Aeron; likely because Mishel had toasted the guys buddy and wanted to get the young girl on the ground himself.

He instead was blasted back with a mental telekinetic shove from the balistickinetic, sending him crashing into the wall. Attention again came down to Mishel with those oceanic orbs locking on the girl.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Dorsis

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Random Cantina #331
[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"] | [member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Gianna Aegis"] | [member="Tela Uolmi"] | [member="Ahani Najwa"]


A righteous First Order-Avalonian accent soared through her words, "YOU, IT'S BLOODY FETHIN' A CHIT HOLE YOU!"

Skor II ran fresh in Mishel's mind, and yeah it hurt a lot when Aeron ran her foot into her ribs, but by this point, Mishel had gotten used to getting her arse handed to her.

She remembered being needle close to this woman, and while she was no longer drenched in broody-dark side-ren-a-roo she was still pretty hot from Skor II. Mishel used what she knew of speed and the force, to force vibrate? Force Shimmy, there's a word for this surely but she force sped herself out of [member=[/FONT]"Aeron Kreelan"]'s grasp. "You've a lot a nerve, because who decided it'd be cool to let that gangrene monster run about?" Mishel remembered calling for a temporary timeout, truce to try and take out the larger threat at hand back then. The Tygaran threw down a force push on her own, this one aimed at the ground to give her some air over Aeron she summoned a few beer bottles to throw at the woman's face while she was at it.

The teenager was none too happy, "yeah.... you, you're the kinda Jedi, Sister Samka warned me about."

Mishel felt more pressure and felt herself fresh against more wood, "KARK A HALF!" She growled and shot fire, missed and hit something or someone else - and at this point the cantina started to empty out.

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myaN5jTh79o[/media]

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

Dorsis​

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Directly engaging Mishel Nore​

Aeron had not been looking for a fight. Okay, that was a lie; she got in more brawls than she could count. However, having one with the raging teenager she clashed with at Skor II was not her idea of fun.

Hormonal teenagers plus angst meant just another headache. The expression on the Prex face certainly said so. Either that or she was constipated.

Mishel freed herself from under the Icarii's foot, using a version of telekinetics rarely seen in others. Note to self on that. Of course, hearing the high pitched scream had already made Aeron's ears figuratively bleed. When Mishel had sent bottles flying at Aeron's head, it only confirmed it.

Sigh.

A quick wave of her hand managed to send the bottles off to the right. However, someone else managed to come right behind the blonde just as she was doing so to crack a chair at her back.

Yeah. That hurt.

It was supposed to be an easy time. Scope out the location like the Southern Systems Bazaar had instructed her to. Take notes. Take some leave. Drink. Maybe fuck. Then go back to Fondor.

Now she had to deal with an angry teenager and a cantina brawl.

Stumbling forward, the blonde gave a grimace, feeling pain shoot up her back towards her skull. While the cantina was clearing out, it didn't mean that the rest of the fights had cleared.

And she heard the brunette's last commentary. Ugh.

"Again. Not a Jedi." why do they always say that? It really got annoying. Chair busting guy? Yeah, he got a solid punch from Aeron in the face.

There was nothing as satisfying as hearing the crunch of bone and the yelp of pain.

Payback was sweet.

 

[Gianna Aegis]

Location: Random Cantina
Near: [member="Aeron Kreelan"] | [member="Mishel Noren"] | [member="Muad Dib"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]

Gia took a deep breath before entering a seemingly run down random Cantina located in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. She double checked the coordinates on her HUD when she heard a crash from within, and could only imagine what sort of debauchery remained inside, hidden from prying eyes. The plainly dressed Jedi tugged down the hood of her cloak as she moved inside, the deep blue coloring allowing her to blend in, despite the beige sash wound tightly about her ribcage. People were flooding out of the establishment as if it had been lit on fire. Maybe it had. “Meet here, you have nothing to fear.”, she repeated, reciting the lines from the notice she’d received.

“We have what you’ve been looking for.”

The last line was murmured almost mockingly as she tilted her head side to side. This had the very distinct scent of trap crossed with probably a setup. However, she had been working a long, involved mission for the Alliance trying to find something. A friend by the name of [member="Aryn Teth"] had requested her assistance, and considering she seemed to bounce between the major powers as needed, she could hardly refuse. He seemed to be having a rough time lately. If she could handle something for him, help in any way, she would.

He’d always had nightmares. She remembered that, vividly. This was different. Even now, at a distance, she could feel that something was wrong.

Regardless, she needed to make this pit stop rather quickly. Her companion was waiting for her on his Stardust Melody and she couldn’t leave him to idle for too long. He might get bored, impatient, and decide to come looking. [member="Cassius Droma"] had in short order become someone she was very fond of, and lately, it seemed, rarely traveled without him. No matter what she had promised Teth she had specific designs to keep him out of the political messes she found herself part of. She wanted him to be safe.

Safe, she realized rather quickly as a beer bottle flew over her head, was not here.

Green eyes widened just slightly as a string of unrepeatable curses left the mouth of an auburn-haired Force-wielding teenager. The flame-haired Knight moved, rather quickly, to avoid another beer bottle and shot the two dueling women a nigh mothering look. Couldn’t they see they were going to hurt someone? Gianna stepped over broken chair pieces, glass, spilled liquor and knelt down next to a man that must have gotten caught in the crossfire. His skull had definitely taking a beating from the blood she could see running down his shirt collar.

He, the randy punk, as she would call him in her head seemed to be a little peeved at the blond combatant. Gianna felt for him. It couldn’t have been easy being undereducated when it came to dealing with an angry force user half his size. “Now, now—don’t be silly. Didn’t that wall hurt enough the first time?”

The randy punk moved to push past her but he would find the cinnamon-haired Jedi strangely difficult to move. Her hand lay again his chest in a kind warning, blocking him from further injury, or potential suicidal endeavors. He spat a few foul words, however, Gianna only smiled up at him. Her expression was gentle, sweet as candy, and without asking she began to focus on the angry wounds he had sustained. Her presence was deliberately calming and for a few moments, he seemed to lose track of time. When he came back to, it wouldn’t feel like the bones in his head were sliding around anymore, and he would be filled with a strange desire to leave. He grunted and shoved past the redhead.

“Have a good night! Don't drive drunk--Call a sky cab!”, Gia called after him with a little wave, before heading to the bar, one of the few things still mostly intact. She had been told to meet her contacts here but with these two going at it she found it unlikely they would make an appearance. She could spare a few minutes to wait but she wasn’t going to get her hopes up.

Sighing, she hopped up onto an empty barstool, before lifting her body to the bar itself. She looked down over the top to see a few bartenders cowering in fear. Poor things. “You’ll be fine. Just keep your heads down. Got any fizzypop?”

Gianna turned around, her right leg crossing of her left, before she settled in to watch a couple patrons beat the tar out of each other. She was tempted to encourage them to knock it off, however, the damage was already done. At best, she could help pick up the pieces when it was over. One of the horrified bartenders reached up and handed her a glass with a chip taken out of it, indeed, full of deliciously carbonated fizzypop. The small woman beamed at him and passed over a few credit chips.

Aside from the scorch marks and what may or may not have been small fires starting—It wasn’t the worst bar she’d ever been in. Five out of ten for the now broken and bloody decor, but, definitely not the worst.

 

[Muad Dib]

Who knew that the bar was going to go to the seventh hell of Corellia so fast?

Chuckling at the eruption of violence suddenly spreading like wildfire through the cantina, along with a liberal dose of actual fire, the Mad Man shook his head ruefully. For once he wasn't responsible for a bar going up in flames. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but regardless he had the feeling he was going to enjoy himself immensely.

Glowing eyes took in the battle between several of the bar patrons, amusement coloring his features as he was distracted by the women giving into their primal urges. Sometimes you just had to let out that part of you that heeded the call of glutton madness. Yet that was not his purpose for being in the bar. Sadly he wrestled eyes away from the scene and glanced to the table where the Sith had been meeting. The booth was empty.

"Osik."

The five sith and the rodian were making their way across the bar, avoiding the brawl as they headed for the exit. Things were definitely not going according to plan. Yet the targets had yet to escape. Laughing he grabbed the bottle and turned to throw it across the room where it shattered into what appeared to be a Wookiee bounty hunter and his ewok companion. As they roared at the pungent fumes that had soaked their fur covered bodies Muad grinned and placed a deathstick between lips as he shouted over the din.

"Anyone have a light? No? That's fine, I've got one."

A ball of flame leapt into existence in the palm of his hand, the end of the deathstick igniting. Cocking a brow he threw the fireball into the two figures and watched as they were engulfed in flames, their screaming cries and flailing in effect cutting off the Sith and rodian from their escape. As crimson eyes of the Sith turned to look at the man, smoking and laughing, he watches as five hands moved to their waists and retrieved their unlit lightsaber hilts. Chuckling once more he stepped forward, aware of the two sleeper agents at his back who were turning toward him.

"You can't go yet, the fun has just started. And I've got a few questions before you are allowed to die screaming."

The crimson blades burst into existence as the five began to advance.

[member="Gianna Aegis"] [member="Aeron Kreelan"] [member="Mishel Noren"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Great, so now he was following her lead? Coren was hoping to just get in here, isolate the Sith, and the dispatch them. You know, like some form of a plan. That was what he was hoping for, but it was obvious that his student had other plans. And when that started? Son of a Sith. This was why he wanted to handle things his way, but he was now a member of the NJO Council and that was complicating everything.

He tried to behave.

Good thing he had his student here, right? She was keeping him honest. And starting bar fights. She was already a few swings down before he realized just what was happening. That was when the opponent hit the ceiling.

“The hell…” He shook his head and reached out to the Force. That was when he sensed the Zeison Sha, a bit familiar to him, early days of the Alliance and all that. The Force surrounded Coren and he threw the Force out away from him, into a barrier to separate Aeron and Mishel. And just in time for another patron to land a kick to his back. Coren’s blue eyes went from open-and-wondering to dark and focused in two seconds flat.

“Wrong call.”

Now where were those Sith? They better not get away.

[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Gianna Aegis"]
[member="Aeron Kreelan"]
[member="Mishel Noren"]

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Location: Dorsis
Objective: Customs control

"These mortars appear to be breech-loading, admiral"

Whereas the Jairdains were muzzle-loading, and so were any 60 and 81mm mortars in service anywhere in the galaxy, the seized 160 and 220mm mortars appeared to be breech-loading. Probably owing to the sheer length of the barrel. Meanwhile, the smugglers were being brought to the brig, so that they would be detained, awaiting trial. With the cargo being seized, she would probably want to ascertain whether these massive siege guns really were manufactured by the same company that made Jairdains. Clearly the smugglers were selling those items to a group that sought to destabilize a planet by force - there would be no other possible motives for someone to get such heavy weapons smuggled. But now it was Cathul's turn to interrogate those smugglers in search for answers regarding the origins of those weapons; if they couldn't get the clients' identity, perhaps their origins - even if they were to be kept secret from the client - would provide some clues. But clearly mortars were easy to maintain, containing relatively few electronics or electrical systems, so maintenance requirement ws a big thing for the possible clients.

"Now you will tell me whether or not the client is interested in the origins of the equipment - you may get a sentence reduction if you cooperate"

"No: I will tell you where it came from even though I can't tell who was to buy it"

"Then how did those mortars come to be under your possession?"

"They were stolen in the confusion caused by the New Sith Order on Charros"

Spoiler: Fleet

Capital ships:

ANS Immobilizer 422 (Immobilizer 422-class interdictor carrier)
ANS Sentinel (Sentinel-class cruiser)
ANS Cygnar (Cygnar-class frigate)
ANS Job Engorgement (Skor-class monitor frigate)
ANS Task Significance (Skor-class monitor frigate)

Attack craft:

120 Chiloon-II fighters
56 Neimoidian Gunships

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Dorsis​

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Random Cantina #331​

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Before her master could throw down his barrier Mishel managed to see a beautiful redhead [member="Gianna Aegis"]. The teenager let out a whistle just before her face met someone's fist, this may have been followed up with a boot to the face from her to him. "Really? It was a little hard to tell from that needle in my karkin' face." She managed at [member="Aeron Kreelan"], yeah Mishel may still have some leftover salt from Skor II. And then she felt something, heard something - from Coren. Mishel didn't even need a look from her master, she knew that she had karked up.

The force barrier between her and this two-bit lady she knew from Skor II was the foot down on whatever crazy fighting she wanted to do. Sorry, not sorry - this bloody Jedi I met on Skor II when I was a Ren. I might still have a bone or two to pick with her. And as it turned out the bar fight was good for something, she cast a look in [member="Muad Dib"]'s direction. Mishel ran her tongue along the top of her teeth and then a hand on her jaw as she cracked it. Hazel-green eyes locked onto the searing blue gaze from Aerson, Mishel was still itching to beat the woman's face in as a repayment for leaving her to handle the mess left behind by that other Jedi and Darth Carnival. If it was something she and her biological mother had in common though, it was that they knew how to hold a grudge.