It'll Be In That Order (Lords of the Fringe Dominion of Bespin)

[Ashin Varanin]

Reavers.

She'd invoked the word once or twice of her own volition, largely to scare people who needed to be scared. But she'd spent long enough in the Unknown Regions -- most of her life -- to know that you didn't say reavers without cause.

They'd come to Bespin a few years back, drawn by some kind of ritual associated with the wife of the old Baron Administrator. There'd been hell to pay, and True Reavers at work, Bando Gora cultists with glowing eyes and self-made mutilations, their bodies warped by chaos-magics.

Of course the breaking of the Protectorate and the erratic nature of the Force struck the Bando Gora reavers as signs of a new day. It must have seemed to them like Chaos itself, and all their gods, had grabbed the galaxy and shaken it.

TIBANNAPOLIS​

​

Genocidal threats looming out of the dark edge of the 'verse? Check.

Sublimation of humanity towards a diabolical identity and form? Check.

Insufficiency of preexisting defenders and defensive arrangements? Check.

Fear thick enough to cut with a knife? Check.

Welcome to the Fringe. Here we kill monsters.

 

[Corey's OOC]

Even with thr galaxy going all rapture-licious, Marek still had contacts around. And hearing they the Fringe was moving on Be spin was something that gave him an idea.

Diversify.

if the Techno Union was going to expand beyond the borders of its previous government and become a galactic force they needed to expand. And what better place to start than Bespin?

Mainly with Bright Star. Get a foot hold. A floating resort and casino? Too already been done? He didn't care as his Santhe Challenger made to land in Tibanniapolis.

A quick rescue for the price of real estate?

 

[Velok the Younger]

FOUNDATIONS OF TIBANNAPOLIS

The light was bad down here. Well, no, not bad. Bad was a normative word; so was poor; so was insufficient; in its own vaguely stigmatized way, so was dim. Dark didn't need to be defined by light in a verbal sense. The dark was good down here, rich, sufficient, overwhelming -- the opposites. He couldn't use the Force to enhance his sight, not without consequences, but the dark was his element, and he didn't like crutches regardless. A dulled knife in his hand, he slipped through the dark in search of people not that much unlike himself. Who better to kill monsters?

 

[Hira Mitsae]

‘The best TibbanaX mines, my Lord. But that is hardly your concern, the Protecto--’

The businessman, also known as Darrell Irani immediately interrupted the man in charge of the place.

‘The Protectorate? I only see Reavers and Fringers.’

‘We have an ac-’

‘Irrelevant after all that has happened.’

The Baron sputtered a bit, but it took him out of his comfort zone. Because the situation had changed, men and women he had worked with for ages simply disappeared, the Reavers returning and the Protectorate’s advance had slowed down immensely.

What would this mean for him? What would it mean for Bespin?

Finally the elderly fellow appointed, because there hadn’t been anyone else with the experience, sighed and looked at Irani wearily.

‘What do you want?’

And so the negotiations began.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darell Irani"]

The rest of the Fringe pacification force was off at Tibannapolis dealing with a reaver incursion. Ashin Varanin was, for the moment, on Cloud City, here to see the Baron Administrator, who was-

"-busy, I'm afraid."

Ashin gave the receptionist a slow blink. "Tell him Ashin Varanin wants to see him."

The receptionist, a hardbitten Togruta, smiled in a facile sort of way. "The Baron Administrator is in a meeting at the moment, Ms. Varanin."

"That's Grand Admiral Varanin." She was wearing phrik plate armor, not her dress uniform; a mistake, it seemed.

"If you'll have a seat, Admiral Varanin, I'll let you know when the Baron Administrator can see you."

Ashin's gauntlets grated on the receptionist's desk; she leaned forward, fixing the Togruta with a wintry smile. "You like power," she said quietly. "And who doesn't? That's all anyone wants out of life: a comfortable nook where things only change on your terms. And you keep away from preexisting limits, like the Baron Administrator's orders -- you deal with them on your own terms too. But what happens," she said even more quietly, "when a new limit is imposed?"

She reached out and patted the receptionist's cheek.

***​

​

The ornate white door hissed open, and Ashin strode in, taking a seat without invitation. "Baron Administrator, my name is Varanin. I don't believe we've met."

Her eyes flicked to the other guest, the man whose posture and mien appeared to have been dominating the room. A man who'd made appearances at various other points in Fringe territory, especially recently. An opportunist, a man of money. "Mister Irani, I take it you're here with your white-knight investor schtick. I take a dim view of looters, especially when it comes to vital resources with national security implications."

 

[Hira Mitsae]

‘And you can promise me for a hundred percent you can pull this off?’

‘Only the Gods and Sith deal in absolutes, Bartholomew. I am neither.’

‘But you sa-’

‘I said I would try. Even known quantities can disappoint.’

‘I am not sure what you mean.’

‘And let’s hope you never will.’

***​

Darrell Irani did not seem perturbed at the sudden appearance of Grand Admiral Varanin, his hands entwined and resting on his lap, back straight and eyes keen, the businessman simply seemed a touch curious.

Then he spoke, and his voice carried. ‘Looters are those that come in and take uninvited, leaving nothing behind.’ from his relaxed stature and ease in addressing, Varanin could notice his roots from old money, the economy in movement as he underlined his words, a military background, the cadence in his speak, used to a speaking role.

Above all, she might just remember the ancient House of Irani, one of the Great Houses of Serenno that had decayed from glory two generations back which had all ended in a father assassinated, an ancestral house burned down and a son lost.

All during the reign of one Empress Desmius.

Or perhaps she wouldn’t, one could not expect to remember the names of every Serenno Great House fallen from grace.

‘Investors are those that spend money to create future money, Grand Admiral Varanin. Welcome to Bespin.’

His head turned back again to Barth.

‘I think now is the time, Baron Administrator.’

A weary nod followed.

‘Grand Admiral Varanin, I am too old for this business. By all accounts I shouldn’t even be in this seat, but the remnant of a remnant voted and here we are.’

‘I appoint Lord Darrell Irani as my official representative and negotiator.’

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darell Irani"]

It seemed the receptionist wasn't the only one who liked to solidify control over the immediate environment.

"So be it." The chair groaned under her phrik plate. "Mister Irani, the Bando Gora reavers are loose on Tibannapolis, and we expect to find a more covert presence in Cloud City. Bespin is too close to Bando Gora territory now that the Protectorate has failed. The Fringe Confederation will be securing this planet and system against the Bando Gora today. We consider your tibannaX refineries a vital strategic resource, and though we're willing to pay whatever fair price you name, your pre-existing tibannaX contracts are over as of now."

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Ashin Varanin"]

A nod. ‘We will gladly accept the protection of the Fringe.’ there wasn’t anyone else, which had been explained to Barth.

The Protectorate was rallying, but it was a slow process, how many would die before they had decided to stop securing their immediate core worlds and remember the ones they had left in the west?

As for the tibannaX, this had been anticipated. Though the fact they were willing to buy was already one part into the right direction.

‘The bulk of the tibanna and tibannaX has always been sold to the Protectorate, we are prepared to shift this away to the Fringe Confederation for a reasonable price.’ a calculated glance. ‘We’d like to petition the possibility of selling remnants to select buyers. With oversight, of course.’

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darell Irani"]

"Patience, Mr. Irani. You've spoken for the Baron Administrator for all of five minutes; don't be too hasty to speak for Omega StarCorp." Ashin shrugged volubly. "Not that a Protectorate parastatal's holdings will be honored by default. As I said, we consider the tibannaX refineries to be vital strategic assets, and any further tibannaX shipments from this system to the Protectorate are entirely out of the question. And yes, I waited for you to agree before I said that. Fundamentally, tibannaX is nothing but an isotope; a rare one, to be sure, but not impossible to find. Our own tibannaX refinery technology on Taloraan has been in operation for years. Even if the Protectorate were to pull a Cater and scuttle the tibannaX refineries of Bespin, Mr. Irani -- a possibility we're currently doing everything to forestall -- we'd be able to bring in new refinery equipment in the short term.

"Apart from Protectorate affiliates, which are off the table, what select buyers do you have in mind? Assuming you acquire and maintain control over the tibannaX refineries, of course."

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Ashin Varanin"]

Heh. Omega StarCorp.

A grin spread over his features, it was a recognizable grin, one which a certain Lord had often used in the past. Perhaps walking through a door didn’t remove all the traces of a connection, perhaps some things would always stay.

‘As you say, Grand Admiral.’ he too shrugged. ‘I have some interested parties in the Tion Cluster, perhaps the Mandalorians. Nothing too solidified yet, a simple matter of precaution.’

 

[Corey's OOC]

He ran a hand through his hair and checked the outfit he had on. Business... casual? Whatever. He could dress up to present a business deal, but he worked for a fething casino. And making business work on Bespin? That would be a vista he could bank on. Nodding to himself, he checked the directory from the hangar. Baron Administrator... That was probably the best place to start.

Feth it, was all Marek thought as he shrugged and took the path to the office he was looking for.

What could go wrong, right? He was... had friends in the Fringe. Hopefully there was enough positive being spoken around him that even if those got raptured, he'd be fine.

And the fact he didn't have an appointment and was doing zero for the reapers? Marek preferred to entertain and spend money.

And make it.

[member="Darell Irani"] [member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Maelion Liates]

[member="Moira Skaldi"]

With barely a ripple the Lightbringer emerged from hyperspace over the world of Bespin. The stygium array, coupled with the finest engine emission controls available meant the ship was invisible to almost every observer. Certainly today, with so much else going on it would pass unnoticed.

A small shuttle seemed to appear from nowhere and head down to the planet. On board were two very interesting persons, or non-persons as some might consider them.
On this day Maelion Liates was taking part in an expedition. She wore a different face today, as changing faces was as easy for an HRD as changing clothes. There would be nothing outwardly which would link her to Anna Comnena, respectable businesswoman on Corellia and Loronar.
What was more, this HRD was even more of a surprise than normal, as her very bones were made of Phrik, strong enough to resist lightsabres.

As the shuttle moved in, she scanned all of her instruments.
Sensors indicate Reaver activity. Curious, news reports from the Protectorate indicate they had been wiped out...multiple times, she communicated to her partner in crime, Moira Skaldi.
Perhaps this anomaly caused this magical reappearance?
It made as much sense as people all across the galaxy vanishing.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

[member="Maelion Liates"]


To recapitulate, many years ago Cloud City had been purged of Bando Gora by a Pyre battalion led by Siobhan Kerrigan, then fresh from having become the Butcher of Roche. Then the Protectorate had gone on to exterminate the Bando Gora legions on Gehenna, their homeworld, and raze their capital. Quite literally since Kerrigan had dropped the mountain it had been built under. Much later Firemane and the Eldorai had returned to Gehenna and wiped out the Bando Gora remnants. So, yes, it sort of sucked to be a Bando Gora since you got decimated all the time. For no greater crime than being a self-mutilating, cannibalistic Chaos acolyte who indulged in acts such as torture, human sacrifice and inhumane medical experimentation.


Anyhow, it seemed that just as people had disappeared across the Galaxy, Reavers had returned to their old stomping ground. Consensus. It is impossible to apply logic to this phemonena organics refer to as 'space magic', Moira communicated. Somehow even using purely electronic communication made the tone come across as incredibly dry. Deadpan, insane death machines were best insane death machines. Scans indicate heavy activity at the outpost, but external defences appear offline. Presume Firemane elements are in battle with Reaver hordes. Unlikely that Kaeshana will be able to reinforce them, given Fringe occupation.


Her intelligence network on Kaeshana had been hit unexpectedly hit hard by the cataclysm. See, apparently droids were vanishing as well. It did not make sense to Moira, but then that applied to many things. However, she deemed it very unlikely that a certain battering ram with a penchant for slaughtering Reavers would be showing up today.


Away from Cloud City, where now the savage Reavers raped, slaughtered and pillaged and where smoke rose from the once proud spires and towers, which now seemed like a ghost city, the shuttle shot through the clouds towards a mining outpost. Once maintained by Firemane and ARGH, it had seen better days. The platforms that formed the Firemane and ARGH command bases could be seen through the viewport of the craft, as could the large furnace section, but the heavy guns seemed inactive. The landing platform was crawling with Reavers and Cultists, though the scores of corpses lining the area attested to the fact that the defenders had fought fiercely. From further inside blasterfire and the bark of bolters could be heard.


Reavers were vicious, knew no fear and would fight even after losing vital limbs. True Reavers were darkside marauders utterly without restraint. They tore off the skin of those they murdered and wore it. They were also, coincidentally, facing HRDs with bolters and phrik skeletons. Amidst scattered blaster and slug fire the shuttle touched down upon the ground and landed and the dynamic duo emerged. Apparently they had been so rude to crash a ritual, judging by the fact that a purple-robed Bando Gora Priest, his eyes ablaze with madness, had been cutting out the hearts of captives and given them to Reavers to eat. BAM. He was the first to die. Crimson lightsabres sprang to life, Sith blades were drawn and orange tendrils of force drain shot their way...which did nothing because they were droids! Dual bolters in hand Moira, who was also wearing a different face, began her dispassionate process of elimination. Extermination protocols initiated.

 

[Velok the Younger]

TIBANNAPOLIS UNDERCITY

He'd had occasion to look up the recent history of the Bando Gora reavers on his way here. The double extermination of the planet Gehenna had been admirable, but in the end, the reavers had threatened a substantial chunk of the Outer Rim in their heyday, and if there was one thing Seren knew, it was Dark Side cults. They always got infectious. Derivatives took root everywhere.

It didn't help that certain fringe elements within the Fringe had been, very quietly, offering sanctuary to the Bando Gora in exchange for their knowledge and techniques. Fringe territory had come very close to Gehenna, and that proximity had led to a certain...cross-pollination. He seriously doubted the Fringe leaders had authorized it or known about it, given the fervor with which they'd stamped out remnants wherever they sprang up. Assuming the records were mostly true, of course.

Bottom line, it was the height of hubris to call an idea eradicated, and in the end, it didn't take much more than an idea or two to metastasize the Bando Gora tradition. Especially if there was any reality to this Chaos God tradition.

As he slit the throat of a reaver, one wound among many, he considered asking.

 

[Maelion Liates]

[member="Moira Skaldi"]

To Maelion's mind, an idea might be indestructible, but the millions of Reavers yearly slaughtered were less so. Regardless, it could be imagined that a horde of Reavers might return from the shadows as the Sith were wont to do. After all, practically every planet had been occupied by pirates who had also sprung into existence following the rapture.

Stepping off the ship beside Moira, her lightsabre ignited. Unlike Jedi and Sith they did not need the Force to wield them, and thus were not prey to the same malfunctions as other Force users.

A purple whirlwind, a blaze of light as she hacked into the Reavers. Moira shot down each enemy at range, whilst close in Maelion's blade cut down all opposition.
A priest of their insane gods attempted to blast them with searing lightning...but due to the instability of reality only succeeded in fatally searing himself to the bone.
"Follow up units will come behind and load the ore onto the shuttle," Maelion ordered. She and Moira would go ahead to secure a path whilst regular HRDs followed behind.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

[member="Maelion Liates"]


In a sense, the struggle between the Reavers and the death machines was like a contest between two groups of most likely insane zealots. On the one hand cannibalistic Chaos worshippers who wanted to drown the Galaxy in an ocean of blood and slaughter because their dark deities commanded it. On the other droids who wanted to eradicate all sentient life and replace it with a mechanical dystopia run by well-ordered machines. The difference was, one of these groups did not need space magic. And so there was an Illyric orgy of slaughter.


Whilst Maelion sliced and diced her way through Reaver hordes, her purple lightsabre ablaze with light, Moira pumped Reavers and zealots into oblivion with her bolters. Those who managed to come closer were simply bashed and clubbed to death or kicked over the platform. "You dare to defile this new temple of The Kerrigan!" one roared. "With the power of the Blood Goddess I will crush you! Skulls for the skull throne!" Calling upon awesome telekinetic powers he...completely failed to lift a heavy boulder, only dragging it slightly towards him. His look of confusion was interrupted by an APE round that smashed through his helmet and blew off most of his face.


"The Kerrigan's powers have failed, as have all the the Force magi. You are obsolete," Moira blandly informed him. Apparently even the 'logical and rational' death machine could not fully resist the urge to make snarky lines during combat. A nonauditory ping acknowledged Maelion's words. "We shall also secure the armoury. It is bound to be well-stocked." As another shuttle touched down upon the landing pad and a small group of HRDs filed out, clad in heavy armour and kitted out for war, the dynamic duo continued, unleashing a ruthless process of elimation. As they came into close quarter combat with savages, who threw themselves at the pair with reckless abandon and fury, singing praises to their Chaos Gods in the Dark Tongue, Moira relied on buckshot and APE rounds to take them out. Her heavy durasteel fist bashed in skulls and tore off limbs. The lightsabre blade of a Bando Gora Priest managed to land a strike upon her shoulder and cut through her armour when she was distracted, but was repelled by her phrik skeleton. Without any emotion upon her face, she ripped his arm off and snapped his neck.


Further ahead, as the duo got closer into the facility, some surviving Firemane soldiers could be seen defending themselves against Reaver hordes, the bark of bolters resonating across the hall, along with the explosion of grenades. They could be eliminated as well. Any survivors would be captured and taken away for processing.

 

[The End Narrator]

November was here - why wouldn't she be? Her sister was a well known slicer for the Fringers before she died. It was a tragic demise and one that couldn't be traced but November had her suspcions that it had to do with her final job and some Sith Lord named [member="Alicia Drey"] - although she doubted it. Another reason was that November believed in keeping her options open considering the state of affairs within the Galaxy.

So there she was, climbing around the undercity of TIBANNAPOLIS....and she wasn't happy. Not that she minded the company or the job itself - maybe it was the smell and the inability to use her firearms? Fear of explosions and all that.

Her voice would click over the comlink channel, growling as she spoke. "Can you explain to me, why the hell we're doing here again? I mean ain't all the action up there?"

Simple question enough, one that would be directed at the form of [member="Nui Akona"] and [member="Seren Ordavo"]. She watched Seren go to town on a Reaver, pouting slightly.

"Well, I guess I gotta get more of a jump on things, don't I?" She muttered.

 

[Arage Bao]

Nui took it upon himself to tell the story of a certain witch, a tablet of power and a Chaos God erupting from beyond the Veil. He had been there, looking at it, fighting it even the second time it had been summoned and there was really one thing a man needed to know about that particular piece of monster. It was fething terrifying in scope and because of it only that much more pleasing once it died at the hand of your blade, or dagger, or shotgun, or force poobah stuff, whatever the last struck had come from.

They got Sinclair with 'em today, he knew the girl from before, had fought together for a while on that Pius Idea ship. Now if that hadn't been a cluster-feth than he didn't know what was. Anyway, competent girl, maybe a bit too talkative for his taste, but perhaps it was a good thing to have a person who liked to talk in their loosely-named group.

When ya got a former Naddist, a droid and a vongshaped force warrior... well, it can't really go any worse, no?

'We know the scent of a good fight, Sinclair.' The warrior answered, casually revealing a nasty makeshift blade. 'Stick with us and you will see more action than ya could ever hope for.'

Pointed look,

'And I don't mean in the sack, though we can talk that out later.'

He didn't give her the time to reply, Akuna was already off slicin' and dicin'

 

[The End Narrator]

November rolled her eyes and gestured as she pulled her own knife from her left thigh, and then produced another from the right. The sound the blade made as it exited the sheath was almost reminicent of ghosts howling in some hellish chorus. She'd gesture with her left hand towards [member="Nui Akona"]. "The day that happens is the day that the Repub-" She watched as he moved out to take more kills from her.

Ugh, men.

Nope, this wasn't going to go down like this, not today and not ever. She wasn't going to be left behind and shown up by some rookie! Well, he wasn't a rookie - he had proven himself quite the opposite but to her, well - that was different. She'd join the fray and the slice and dice would indeed begin. Target after target would appear in her sights - locking on within the HUD built inside of her goggles before she would tackle, slice, stab - watch the vitals fade and punch off towards another.

When the blood, and muck would begin to conceal her vision, she'd wipe it away and continue on. Not once was an ounce of breath wasted - instead - it was energizing and invigorating.

This was life.

 

[Maelion Liates]

[member="Moira Skaldi"]

It was almost unfair. With the Force acting erratically, and their enemies near unbreakable with their phrik skeletons, the Reavers melted away before the onslaught. None could stop them. Maelion's lightsabre reflected or absorbed shots whilst she cut down those too close.
Showing they were not entirely without brains, several brought up ion blasters, but these shots were either deflected by the lightsabres or those with them were shot down.

When they came upon the Firemane troops they seemed like rescuers. Maelion even confirmed this by a bit of playacting. When the humans' guard was down the HRD suddenly turned on them, overwhelming and stealing away the most important. The rest were...deleted.

"The warehouse is ahead." The warehouse which the Eldorai had only just purchased a stock of cortosis just before the...occurence.