Junction Once Upon a Time in Rodia (SO Binaros / HSC Teth /ME Lok)

[Darth Ophidia]

Rodia
878 ABY

The air was eternally humid, a planet made for lizards and swamp festering creatures - Rodia was of minimal importance on the Galactic Stage, but was highly important for the Corellian Run. A pit stop for traders and travelers the Galaxy across, it was a terrestrial world built on trade - but with such activity came crime, greed, and struggle.

Isolated to a small nightclub in the trade district open to outsiders in Equator City, a private room was opened to the Sith and Hutt Cartel - within, a meeting to determine the fate of the Outer Rim began to form. Alongside Sith Lords and massive Hutt Daimyos, local powers and representatives from local planets also came - all with the understanding they would not survive under any other rule than these.

Guards of every group were gathered, and while weapons were not allowed within the diplomatic room itself - it was everyone's understanding it was more of a suggestion than a demand. None could take the weapons of the Sith by force, and the Hutts always carried an elite team of bounty hunters and bodyguards whenever they wished. The only ones who had to abide were the minor powers - who took their seats and made themselves silent to the declarations given by the others.

Unknown to them all was the rat in their midst. The meeting was sold out by an unknown party in their masses - and the information was given to the Enclave, the strongest collection of Mandalorians in the Galaxy after the destruction of their homeworld. Despite their initial plans to send a full military intervention to the world - it was decided that none could risk an intergalactic incident striking a neutral world.

Instead, strike teams disguised as civilians and smugglers were brought onto the world, carrying their arms and armor stashed away. Now, as the twilight hour is upon them - the sleeper forces across the planet begin to stir and radio comms come alive. The Nightclub is surrounded with the parties inside waiting.

Objective I RICO:

With such a high concentration of not only Hutt Space Consortium Daimyos, but also prominent figures in the Sith Order, capturing or eliminating the enemies of the Enclave, and the Galaxy as a whole, is of utmost importance. With the element of surprise, Enclave enforcers are tasked with infiltrating the club and trapping the high value targets with as little attention as possible.

Naturally, for the Hutt and Sith officials, the job is far more simpler. Secure acceptable terms and escape the ensnarement. Discretion is an advantage on both sides, and the attack on a neutral planet could be a dangerous advantage. But it will not amount to much if everyone is captured or killed.

Objective II Ten Yard Line:

Both parties have brought in a retinue of guards as a means of protection, posted outside and around the Trade District where the nightclub is located. Attempting to cut off the Criminals’ and the Arch Enemy’s means of escape from the nightclub and Rodia proper is important for the success of the Enclave's operation.

With the Hutts and Sith caught in an ambush, and their leadership in danger, securing an escape off-world is vital. But without their typical overwhelming force, the playing field is far more levelled for the Hutt and Sith forces tasked with securing the area...

Objective III Primal Carnage:

In the chaos of the engagements in the streets, a part of the dome around the city was broken open. How it happened was up to debate. A stray Mandalorian missile, a Sith trick or a Hutt contingency. How it happened is of little concern, however, as the dangerous creatures and monsters of Rodia's wilderness flood in with the smell of easy prey.

The only matter of importance is survival as creatures continue to pile in. Whether the fighters of either nation work together or try to sabotage each other is up to the individuals. Survive the streets, enemies and animals, and secure the mission.

 

[Iermin the Hutt]

​

---

Great Ozzmo of the Gorensla Kajidic was well aware of the risk of traveling so far away from his home territory. But this was an opportunity that the Hutt could not pass up upon. In the ancient past the Hutt Cartel had worked with the Sith Empire during the Battle of Quesh against the Three Hutt Families and the Galactic Republic. Although that was a rather reluctant partnership due to the circumstances. Finding the Small Nightclub and slithering inside was accomplished in short order.

The Gorensla Kajidic was here to gain respect from the other Cartel Representatives and to a lesser extent the Sith. Expanding the Clan's Black Market Activity across the Outer Rim was the key focus of his presence there.

Meeting anyone within the galaxy was foolish without having a detachment of bodyguards with them. So he had snagged some Nal Hutta Heavy Cannoneers to accompany him. Slithering himself into the meeting room and taking a place nearby the door so that he could slip in and out without much difficulty in the event of trouble between the Cartel and the Sith.

"Let us hope this meeting goes well."

Ozzmo said to no one but himself at this time.

​

 

[HK-99]

Once Upon A Time In Rodia​

Spoiler: Equipment

Right Claw Repulse Hand Technology Scrap Drone Technology Left Weapon Lightning Gun Mode Sonic Weapon Mode Laser Cannon Mode Sensor Myriad Visual System – MK. 2

Armor Electric Defense Grid Composite Heavy Plating Shield Ion Surge Shielding Droid Shield Rocket Booster Rocket Booster

The hard metal sound of his foot slamming against the pavement could be heard as Chipper marched through the Trade District near to the Nightclub. He had been assigned to accompany the Gorensla Delegation underneath Ozzmo the Hutt but had decided to stay outside due to his rather large size. The 10'4" junk droid had no knowledge of Rodia since he only became aware of the wider galaxy after joining the Hutt Space Consortium. But as far as the Junk Droid could tell it was peaceful and without incident. His mixed programming had caused him to unstable which meant that he could go into a rampage without much difficulty.

His hard metal jaw clenched open and shut a few times, as scanners went to work assessing the situation within the Trade District. Although their range was quite limited only able to see the life signs of civilians at the moment. He was once a powerful droid emperor on Lotho Minor now reduced to an Enforcer for the Criminal Underworld after having been defeated by a Jedi Strike Team.

Chipper had no quam with killing organics to make a pathway for his charge should the meeting with the Sith and Cartel representatives not work out exactly as planned.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Smoke clung like a fog around his skin, the stench of marcan herbs and spice filled both nostrils. It was allover acrid, but there was a distinct hint of cinnamon hidden just beneath the surface. They huddled in their booths, sipping opulently on their hookah pipes and blowing out clouds of bronze smog out into the air. The more lurid booths were hidden from view, distortion veils preventing any peering eyes from lookin in. The figure would not have paid them any mind, his mind was bent towards a singular focus; the slowly assembling gathering in the secured suite.

Demiurge was not Carnifex, but few could make that distinction. He resembled his Other down to every minute detail save for two; his eyes were not red-in-black, and his forehead lacked the Sith tattoo. He was also slimmer than Carnifex, but that was hard to tell in the twilight gloom of the club. It was decided that Demiurge would make a far better bargainer than Carnifex would have been, but that did not mean that Carnifex had neglected Rodia at all.

He was here, elsewhere and elusive.

Carnifex waited on a landing platform, one made devoid of parked starships. He was kneeling down in a meditative pose, His eyes knit shut as He breathed slowly and evenly. He knew what was to come, the Oracles had relayed their prophecies to Him once more. His sword, Derriphan, was resting on His lap. The blade had recently been oiled and shone brightly in the light of the platform's floodlights. He was making no effort to conceal Himself, He had nothing to hide from those that would seek Him out.

He sensed that the moment grew near, the fractals of time weaving down towards a singular point. He drew upon the powers of the unseen world, collecting them within Himself and steeling every nerve and every muscle for action. When that moment came, He would be ready; His body primed for it.

How would they stand against Him?

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Convert missions could be handled in more ways than one. An engineer, mechanic, computer tech, and artist all in one; Gwyn found smuggling herself and gear in far too easy. One spray paint job, and her armor was completely different in appearance. Bearing the marks of the Maw's Dar'Manda pretenders, the now green and brown beskar'gam was completely remodeled to frame some crazed Death Hand rogue for the deeds she would commit today. But more than that, she had to be careful selecting weapons as well. She had a set selection of weapons she enjoyed using, which the enemy or Rodia's people might be able to pick up on. So, Gwyn had to branch out from her usual gear. She had gone with standard weapons more native to public markets, as opposed to the Enclave's unique works of art. It was unorthodox for her. Then again, when was Gwyneira Krayt ever orthodox?

Slipping into the Rodian landing bays with an M.I. light freighter, Gwyn wrapped a poncho style kama over her armor and pulled a hood over her buy'ce. Walking the back streets, Gwyn was determined to play a more support role in this mission. As opposed to entering the bar and attacking main targets, she focused on any threats outside the bar. Carrying a rifle with her, she stalked the streets in patrol for any Sith or Hutt servants outside.

The Force ever surrounded her, telling her where to go.

It was strange. Deeply sensitive to the Force, she could feel the chill of a major dark side energy outside the bar. Even more bizarre was how her footsteps were predetermined, guided by the Force towards that presence. The Force was guiding her... guiding her to her supposed target. Running through the ports, she soon found herself darting through the entrance of an abandoned landing bay. There were no ships, no vehicles... just a lone figure meditating in the center, warped in a heavy cloud of the dark side.

She recognized the figure immediately, from holograms and history books. It was the legendary Darth Carnifex! The Force had guided her... to him.

Beneath her buy'ce, she gulped. Sweating just a little, she slipped into position and aimed with her rifle. She knew it would be impossible to one shot him, even with her incredible aim. She instead focused on the hilt of the sword and his hand. If she could disarm him, it at least was a start.

Why did the Force bring her here? Why had she been lead to attack and capture, or kill, this entity of great power? Who knew... maybe the Manda had decided to just play another cruel joke on her. Either way, she knew she would give it her all.

She fired.

Spoiler

Tags: Darth Carnifex Shai Maji
Equipment:

• Beskar'gam, repainted.
• Twin Blaster Pistols.
• Heavy Blaster Pistol.
• Twin Slugthrower Pistols.
• Rifle.
• Lightsabers with switched out red synthetic crystals.
• Lightsaber Shoto with switched out red synthetic crystal.
• Combat Knife.

 

[Arette]

Spoiler: Crew and Equipment

The Cast - Tarentatek Company, First Talon
Arette, Captain
Tasha Vess, Designated Markswoman
Nok Trisz, Engineer and Heavy Weapons Specialist
Iava Kendro, The Muscle
Vixtra Vak, Combat Medic
M8-B3, Squad Astromech

The Kit - Arette:
Lightsaber
Vibroblade
Marauder's Panoply
Juxtaposer Wheelbike

The Kit - Crew
Heavy Blaster Pistols
Blaster Rifles
Repeating Blaster (x1, Tripod Mounted)
Sniper Blaster (x1, Tripod Mounted)
Fully stocked Medkit (x1)

Arette was bored. This was unsurprising, given her distaste for activities such as "sitting still." Patience had never been one of her virtues, and unless grossly engaged with something or other, the Knight found herself moving constantly. Unfortunately for Arette, she didn't have much of a choice; her presence had been requested by the Tsis'Kaar, and cocky as the Sith was, she'd still rather not get on Ophidia' bad side. Not that Ophidia seemed to have much of a good side.

The Knight reclined in the seat of her wheelbike, rolling a deep green kyber crystal between her gloved fingers. The memory of its acquisition made her smile; that was a good fight. A good kill. Her wheelbike propped against the corner of a building, Arette cast her gaze over the rest of her squad.

Tasha would be above her, she knew, barrel of her rifle poking out of a window and sweeping the area ahead of her. Nok had situated himself on the roof adjacent Arette's position, made himself a cozy little gunner's nest up there. Iava and Vixtra were at street level, mingling with a handful of consortium goons - on loan to fill out Arette's squad to fighting strength.

As far as defenses went, the checkpoint they'd stuck her at was light - glaring menacingly at anyone curious enough to get too close had done the trick so far. Disappointing, yes, but it made sense. Nobody was expecting trouble coming this way.

<<Captain? I think we've got some trouble.>>

Arette grinned, tapping a button on her headset. The Force really did love her, didn't it?

"Copy that, Vess. Details."

<<Aye, Captain. Distance is approximately one-point-two kilometers. Heavily armored. Mandalorian, I think, Ma'am. Looks like they've got an ax- Ma'am, where are you going?>>

By the time Tasha had finished saying Mandalorian, Arette had revved her wheelbike back to life and hopped the modest barricade her troops had set up in the road. A jet of crimson plasma roared to life in her hand as wheel hit duracrete once more, and she was off.

In the sniper's nest above, Tasha Vess sighed, watching as her commanding officer once more charged headlong in the direction of the closest brawl.

<<First Talon, this is acting Captain Tasha Vess. Be advised that our Captain has run off to challenge someone to a duel again.>>

Davaabir

 

[Davaabir]

---

There was very little that had needed to be said in order to convince the warrior known as Davaabir to join the strike team to Rodia. While the activities of the Hutts rarely bothered him as much as his fellows within the Enclave, his hatred for the Sith and any connected to them, however tangentially, was nearly omnipresent within his mind. The recent provocation by the Empire had only inflamed his already-burning temper; when he was told of an opportunity to take the fight directly to the Dar'jetiise, he took it immediately. Made a vow that nobody would stand between him and a Sith, be they with the Hutts or one of his own siblings within the Mando'ade. They all knew better.

Of course, they also knew better than to try and have him infiltrate the location where the meeting between the Hutts and Sith was happening; he was a farmhand and a warrior, not a thief or assassin. Infiltration and stealth weren't his strong suits. Fighting, holding choke points, and drawing attention, however, all were.

Clad in armour, he openly strode through the empty streets of the Rodian city, the echo of his footsteps and the metal plates clanking together daring anybody to step out and challenge him. His goal was rapidly showing ahead of him—one of the back routes out of the trade district, along a long, empty thoroughfare. A checkpoint had been set up, guards placed; even without any expectation of much to happen overall, let alone from that direction, neither the Dar'jetiise nor the Hut'uune were senseless enough to leave it unprotected.

Were he one for covert operations, he might have brought along some sort of sniper's weapon; take down a number of the guards from a distance, disable their communications if possible, and then rush in and finish them off. But the sounds of fighting already starting out in the streets and the knowledge of when the covert teams were going to start their assault on the meeting itself guided his choice of action, as did the mission he'd been granted. Draw attention, force the enemies to reroute their forces, secure the choke point for the Enclave or at least survive long enough to keep the hostiles occupied.

When the sound of a motorized wheelbike chewing into the paving ahead of him reached his ears, he smirked beneath his visor. "Never simpler."

When the wheelbike came into view, he pulled the light repeater he carried up in one hand, loosing a salvo of bolts at both it and its rider. As much as he preferred the axe, he had no qualms about pumping anybody foolish or overconfident enough to charge him headlong full of plasma. If they couldn't defend against it, then they weren't worth his blade anyways.

Arette

 

[Alora Vizsla]

Alora clapped her hands together in satisfaction. Another day, another special delivery by Alora and Gambit. Why more people didn't hire them to get sensitive materials and personnel into otherwise locked down places she couldn't say. They always got the job done. Even with this silly dome keeping Gambit itself out of the city, they'd made contact with the right parties and squirreled away plenty before the Big Show.

It wasn't like the Mandalorians had to know how Alora did what she did. You know, using the very people and enterprises they were gun-ho about destroying. People of credit. The common clay of the new Outer Rim. You know… Criminals. They weren't that different than Mandalorians. (Okay, they were pretty different.) They did things for coin. Mandalorians did things for coin. Kind of similar. Anyway, they were the sort Alora knew how to interact with, use, and benefit from. A mutually beneficial arrangement, really.

So why was she helping them undermine such people? Oh, well, because Sith.

No, no, she wasn't rabidly anti-Sith like most, just kind of, sort of, not really on good terms with them. You know what with the whole Mandalore thing. That had been kind of personal.

Wasn't like the Enclave was here to rid Rodia of all criminals. That'd be kind of dense. Dense as beskar. Fitting, but only in a poetic sense. So helping out wasn't really harming Alora's ability to transact good business in the future. Rodia was kind of useful for facilitating the movement of... off the books shipments.

She was on her way down the street near the edge of the dome when a commotion broke out up ahead. Honey-brown eyes peered down the way as she canted her head a bit to the side.

Alora, the city dome is breached. Wild animals are moving through the opening. You need to get out of there!

Huh? Now why would someone punch a hole in the dome? What was it with people punching holes in Rodia's domes? Alora facepalmed with a sigh as she stopped in the street. "So much for little things like 'clandestine,' 'stealth,' 'subtlety'..."

Gam, cycle in the incendiary load out!

If the Gambit had eyes it would have shut its eyelids in exasperation. The torpedoes began to rotate in the chamber. You haven't cleared this with the government, have you?

Alora tilted her head back and squinted up at the top of the dome. Of course not! What do you think I am, a bureaucrat? Now, get down here and light 'em up!

The engines spooled up and suddenly the Gambit vanished from orbit.

A loud pop was heard a moderate distance out from the domed city as the stealth ship began racing across the skin of Rodia toward the city. Air displacement from a starship suddenly appearing out of hyperspeed inside the atmosphere from a microjump tended to have that effect. The good news was Gambit was a crackshot at navigation -- it had to be to endure Alora's endless requests -- and the stealth qualities would keep local defenses from lighting it up on approach. The bad news was if they did somehow notice its approach visually and then manually targeted defense weaponry...

Trees whipped to and fro with the ship's passing nearly brushing their tops.

Just stay safe.

Alora grinned as she turned her attention back to the hole up ahead. Don't I always?

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Carnifex Ozzmo the Hutt​

This was not the first time Darth Ophidia had come to treat with the Hutts, the cartels, syndicates and crime families, nor was it the first time she treated with the Hutt Space Consortium. Before the consolidation on Odavessa, she had been in touch with the Black Sun for exchanges of information, access and expertise. She also made contact with the Hutt Clans when they tried to separate themselves from the Silver Jedi Concord before the formation of the Consortium. And when the Consortium was indeed formed, she had been in contact.

The Sith Order and the Consortium shared many common goals: The weakening of the Silver Jedi, consolidation of power and wealth, subversion of law and order outside of their controlled spaces. Sure, the Sith would inevitably seek to rule over all, but there were credits to be made in the mean time. Credits make the galaxy go around.

Now, Darth Ophidia and the other leaders of the Sith Orders were to meet with their criminal counterparts in a neutral location: A Rodian nightclub, whose owners were teetering between sympathetic and indifferent to the meeting; what they truly cared about were the hush-credits that followed. If someone were to be paid, why not they? Such ideologies gave fertile ground for seeds of evil.

The scent of spice hung heavy in the air, barely hiding the cocktail of perfume, pheromone and desperate sweat of patrons and entertainers alike. Above, the temperature was hot and heavy, uncomfortably so. The sound thumped so loudly it would be impossible for outsiders to intercept a word from their meeting. All by design, of course.

She did not place all her faith in sound and credits, of course. Her protectors were sprinkled among the surrounding populace, wandering the street under cover. She also had seeds among the servers, patrons and dancers.

A broad shouldered Rodian walked to the back of the club, then disappeared as the Dark Lady of the Sith let her illusory disguise fade before she entered the secured suite. She appeared unarmed, but those called to attendance would know better than to trust appearances.

 

[Darth Strosius]

And here Alisteri thought that today was going to be a boring one. Some meeting of the big players within the Consortium and the Order to hammer out some deals and do their best not to literally backstab one another. Nothing out of the ordinary, he was just there out of necessity given his master's presence in said meeting.

And then, much to his surprise and relief. Something happened. Namely explosions and the sounds of battle.

Alisteri turned as he heard the unmistakable sound of blasters going off from behind him, his gaze landing on the nightclub in the distance. He had wandered a bit away given the event, preferring to try and find something interesting in the local plaza rather than sitting around while criminals and warlords made their powerplays. Now though he was regretting it given the sounds of activity near said club. He sighed and stepped away from the startled kiosk owner that he had just been chatting with.

"Never mind, it seems I have something to attend to." Before he made it too far away from the kiosk however he heard something different that made him stop and turn away from the club to glance at the dome that covered the city instead. It almost sounded like some roar or loud growl that sounded much closer than the battle of the club given his position.

"The feth was that?"

Alora Vizsla

 

[Shai Maji]

RODIA | EQUATOR CITY
ALLIES: ENCLAVE | Gwyneira Vizsla
ENEMIES: SO | HSC | Darth Carnifex
ENGAGING: Darth Carnifex
GEAR: In bio

THE MARK HAS BEEN MADE​

Shai struggled to believe it the first time she heard it. Sith and Hutt top dogs all coming together in the Enclave’s backyard for a meeting. It was like a wrapped up Life Day present just asking to be grabbed and thrown into the cargo bay… or rather, shot and thrown into the cargo bay.

Regardless, Shai was itching to bring them down.

Her helmet was obscured with an Ubese visor to hide the armour and shape, while a poncho and baggy trousers hid the rest of her kit. For all intents and purposes, the Wardog looked like a simple Ubese bounty hunter with her twin pistols and rifle slung across her back. The rest of the group seemed to need some help at the actual club, but her journey was rudely interrupted by the report of a suspicious figure by the landing pads. A tall figure.

Epicanthix, by the look of it. With a big sword to boot.

She only knew of one Sith that matched that description.

But what had her on edge was the simple fact that the Tyrant didn’t even bother to hide himself. Then again, why would he? For all intents and purposes, he was one of the strongest Sith in the galaxy. Bringing him down was going to be a nightmare. Volo was banished to the Nether by him, Vren and Koda dropped enough ordnance on him to level a city… and yet he kept marching.

She eventually drew closer to the landing pads, her crimson gaze quickly catching sight of the tall figure hunched over in the middle of the area, unbothered by anything and everything. If she had to take a wild guess, he could likely already sense her approaching. She knew from experience with Valery that she had a pretty hefty presence through the Force… but there was another who would likely stand out as well. She recognized the scent.

:: Gwyn, come in. ::

Her response was a blaster shot ripping through the air, alerting the whole district of what was happening. Shai immediately yanked her costume off and primed her jetpack as she pulled her rifle from her shoulder. :: Wait for me before you engage, dammit! :: She growled over the comms.

Taking on the Tyrant alone was nothing short of suicide.

From behind the figure, Shai let loose with her blaster, already set to particle mode just in case he tried something funny with the bolts.

:: All units, be advised, Gwyn and I are engaging Carnifex. Repeat, Gwyn and I are engaging Carnifex. :: She spoke over the comms as she sprinted over to a stack of crates for cover, letting loose with another volley of bolts.

 

[Thonn Rokkal]

There was bound to be trouble. They'd arrived with the explicit intention to cause it, and others were organizing an infiltration of the nightclub their sources had pointed out to them. Thonn held back from that operation, subtlety wasn't a tool he possessed. His MS-01 was his typical tool of both battle and diplomacy. To be fair, he didn't make much distinction between them.

Which didn't mean he wasn't about to abstain from all the the fun. Thonn wasn't one to shy away from conflict, and doubly so when said conflict involved the much despised Sith. It was an attitude held long before, and the Quatermaster's demise only cemented it further. No oppertunities to engage them could go ignored. Plenty of weapons and ammo were brought for the occasion, and it all was hidden away in a beaten up transport repulsorcraft he'd picked up for cheap. His rotary cannon was in a cylindrical cardboard case, with the inside reinforced to be able to actually hold the hefty weapon within it. There were several others stacked against it, though there wasn't anything inside beyond bags scrap metal for both weight and deception. Other boxes were within as well, some of cardboard, and others of wood. Some which held dead weight, and some which held more weapons and ammo. More than enough for him, Venari had helped him set the thing up and had added to the stockpile fitting for the welcome their guests deserved.

The nightclub of interest was further down the street – far enough that their presence wouldn't seem strange. The less attention he got, the better, he didn't care to be questioned on what he was doing. It was for that reason they'd taken a seat at a cantina well within eyeshot of both their scrap hauler, and the building that house their targets for the evening. Beskar had been safely stowed away, and Thonn wore plain clothes to keep himself from standing out too much. The cover was that he was a scrap trader, and so long as he didn't have to actually do anything to support the ruse, he just might maintain it until it was time to start shooting. That was always the fun part.

Security was clear enough to see. Both parties agreed to meet unarmed, as Thonn was told. As he figured, they considered plausible deniability preferable to actually following an agreement. The large, intimidating droid pacing outside the building was clear sign of that. Just a 'helper' droid that could conveniently tear a person apart.

"I'm pretty sure that one's security, and it don't look Sith." Thonn remarked to Venari, downing the rest of his drink. "Looks like they're getting ready, should we?" He asked. Better to have his armour on and his weapons out before kriff went down.

Venari Krayt Chipper

 

[Arette]

Spoiler: Equipment

Juxtaposer Wheelbike (Rest in Peace)
Marauder's Panoply
Lightsaber

The Knight had, perhaps, a minute to think before she was close enough for the Mandalorian to start firing on her. Lucky for her, she thought fast. If their Beskar'gam was the real thing, and it almost certainly was, then her lightsaber was more or less useless once she got past blaster range. That left her vibroblade - which she wasn't too shabby with, but didn't fancy her chances with if he had a big fething Axe like Vess reported - and the Force. That damned armor probably had crushgaunts and strength boosters and everything else; but that was okay. She had more mystical means of levelling the playing field when it came to simple physical prowess. Still, she'd probably want to figure out how to weaken the enemy warrior first, too. That was just good practice.

It would've been wrong to say that the salvo of cherry-red plasma bolts sent to greet the Sith interrupted her planning process. Shook it up, certainly. But as Arette twirled her saber with performative ease, she had an idea. Still cackling, the Knight disengaged her lightsaber, bracing the Juxtaposer's controls and allowing the next few shots of the salvo to crackle against - and, importantly, break - the vehicle's energy shield. It was a shame. The hunk of metal was starting to grow on Arette.

Time slowed - subjectively - as the Sith inhaled. In what must've been a blur of Force-enhanced speed to the outside world, she began The Maneuver.

Seekers. The Sith smacked a button on the bike's control panel with her fist, and a quintet of almost comically cute little spherical droids floated out of the Juxtaposer's back hatch, each armed with a small sonic blaster. Hardly a threat, but hopefully annoying. They screeched with single-minded aggression, immediately setting off in the direction of the organic rudely targeting their home craft. Brake. The bike screeched to a stop in slow-motion, as the final pair of blaster bolts inched towards the craft with a sort of menacing slowness. Turn. At the last possible second, Arette jerked the controls sharply, sending the bike spinning and allowing the remainder of the Mandalorian's opening offensive to clip the vehicle's engine.

Arette exhaled as she spun back into roughly the right direction. Time sped up again, and so did she, stamping her boot into the accelerator as she struggled to get the now-smoking bike to stay on course. A little read-out on the control panel oh-so helpfully informed her that catastrophic engine failure was imminent.

Good.

Another fraction of a second or two to make sure the payload was on the proper course. Close enough? Close enough. Didn't need to be a direct hit, even if that would've been incredibly satisfying.

And then she bailed.

Davaabir

 

[Iermin the Hutt]

​

---

Ozzmo tapped on the table in apparent boredom as it seemed he was the first to arrive. Until the sight of a rather broad shouldered Rodian walked into the back room. He assumed at the moment that it was an enforcer for one of the lesser syndicates that had arrived. Until it disappeared like a puff of smoke to reveal the form of Darth Ophidia . He was slightly surprised as this was his first time interacting with force users. But calmed himself down with the thought of making extra profits within the outer rim through this meeting.

"I am Ozzmo of the Gorensla Clan. I don't believe we have met before"

Ozzmo said in a short introduction, and wanting to know the name of the person before him. If he was going to enter into an arrangement with the Sith and other Cartels. Than knowing whom he was dealing with was paramount. Ozzmo puffed out another smoke ring from his long pipe into the room while gazing around the place. The other cartel representatives had yet to arrive which worried him if this was a trap.

Darth Carnifex

​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

​

The Dead God, Dread God, Lord of the Eternals.​

​

Darth Empyrean strode forward in a fanciful dark outfit befitting the death stick laden air - black ornate robes trimmed graciously with gold. Small intricate stitching lay patterns in the face of the fabric, drawing the eye to his form - but what truly controlled the attention was the immaculate complexion of her person, the foundational beauty and lack of scarring that came with his face. Long and envious alabaster hair made bounced behind him as he walked, carefully kept together by a gold jewel laden with a heavy corsuca gem.​

​

His eyes seemed to glow golden, his form angelic - and when he sat, he did with a coy grin. Some here knew this was not his true form, but it was a diplomatic one, and wasn't worth denying. It had served as his public face since his ascension to Dark Lord and his consumption of the Worm Emperor - for now the man known simply as 'The Dead God' was far too empowered to be seen by mortals.​

​

So the body he occupied beamed, crossed its legs, and gave those gathered a nod.​

​

"Greetings, Ozzmo. Darth Carnifex. Darth Ophidia."​

​

"I am Darth Empyrean."​

​

Ozzmo the Hutt // Darth Ophidia // Darth Carnifex​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The blaster bolts struck home.

The first vaporized the Sith's hand, the next half dozen perforated his body and left burning wounds that smoldered like bundles of coals. Any movement made by the figure was in line with the bolts that struck him, his torso moving back and forth as they slammed into him. Then, after a brief moment, the Sith's body tumbled forward and slumped down onto the metal grating. Blood oozed out from the wounds, dripping down into the watery basin located beneath the platform.

Like a mirage, the Sith's appearance bled into prismatic distortion and then disappeared entirely. What remained was the body of a completely different individual, bound and gagged by crude metallic implements. It was plain that he was dead, felled by the bolts loosed by the two Mandalorians towards what they believed was their sworn enemy. Their identity couldn't be verified by sight alone, one of the blaster bolts had made a ruin of his face.

"Mandalorians," rumbled a voice from the empty air, sinuous syllables reaching deep to reverberate within their bones. "So bold, so cavalier." The voice was given an origin as a figure emerged from darkness, almost appearing from the empty air itself. A roughspun cloak hung voluminously from His broad shoulders, hood drawn wide over the shadowy countenance of His face. The faint glint of metal could be seen glimmering out from beneath the folds of His cloak, betraying the existence of armor that encapsulated His body from foot to neck.

A hand emerged from behind the cloak's curtain, fingers gripped tightly around the hilt of a massive sword; the very same that had appeared in the lap of the slain stranger before disappearing along with the illusion. The blade shimmered with dark energy, the faint impressions of faces distorted in horror and pain pushing against the blasphemous steel. "Wayward children, clawing in the dirt just to survive. I shall put an end to your struggles, and grant you the obliteration you so desperately desire."

Releasing His grip on the sword, the weapon levitated for a brief moment before suddenly flying forward like a ballistic missile. It was headed right for the smaller of the two, driven forward by the monstrous will of its puppeteer. At the speed at which the weapon was moving, and its straight unwavering trajectory, it would undoubtedly run the smaller woman through if it struck its mark. The blade, edged with blasphemous beskar, was capable of cutting through almost anything.

Gwyneira Vizsla | Shai Maji

Demiurge emerged into the backroom just as Ophidia let her disguise fall, and shortly before the arrival of Empyrean; the Corpse God. His own entrance was relatively tame, virtually pedestrian by every measure. But he was not interested in such displays, at least not at this moment. Discretion was paramount, and the Dark Lord carefully cultivated that illusion of civility for as long as was required of him. The urge for violence tugged at his senses, but he projected the image of restraint.

There would be time for that later.

"It is our immense pleasure to meet with you, Mighty Ozzmo. You will come to see that our interests are vested and aligned, as will the other Cartels." He placed one hand over his heart and bent his torso forward, a demure display of respect deserved by a revered and powerful member of the Gorensla Kajidic. The den of vipers was growing, but who would prove to be the more venomous?

Time would tell.

Ozzmo the Hutt | Darth Empyrean | Darth Ophidia ​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

The fact that her Force Sense had been unable to detect the real Force Signature from the fake... shocked her. Gwyneira took a step back, even as Shai Maji entered the scene. And yet, as the Sith Lord reentered and spoke words promising death, Gwyn bit her lip. Her Force Sense went off the charts with pain, however, as she found herself glaring at an abomination of a weapon crafted with beskar. Inside the sword, it was as if sensing a cross between a bleeding kyber crystal and a sithspawn bred against nature. Suffering and anguish, all bound to a blasphemous weapon of Mandalorian steel. She activated her jump boots as the weapon was thrown at her. Sliding aside, she audibly growled. Through the Force, hostile anger could be sensed.

<"I hate you already.">

Landing gracefully on her feet, her cybernetic eyes darted towards Maji, hiding behind some crates. She could sense her through the Force, even as she ran out of view. Even with all the bitterness she felt towards Maji, now was not the time for hostility. They needed each other right now, no matter how much she hated it.

Activating her jetpack, Gwyn lifted her vambrace and shot an explosive at the Sith Lord's feet. Rising to the air, she immediately shot a rocket from the launcher in her beskar'gam's knee. Using the Force, she aimed it towards where Carnifex would jump away from the explosive. Using her jetpack, she landed on a tower as she pulled out a slugthrower pistol. She sighed before addressing Shai.

<<"Maji, any plans? I don't think just shooting things at him will work.">>

Cranking her pistol, she kept her Force Sense attuned to every movement her opponent made in the smoke of the explosions. With how potent her Force Sense was, it was near impossible to surprise the hybrid. She was ready for counterattack, all while understanding she was dealing with an immeasurably powerful and experienced opponent. She was on her toes.

<<"If his Force Sense is anything like mine, which I bet it is, it will be impossible to catch him off guard. So we may have to find a way to just overwhelm him. You have more experience in this stuff than me, any suggestions?">>

Spoiler

Tags: Darth Carnifex Shai Maji
Equipment:

• Beskar'gam, repainted.
• Twin Blaster Pistols.
• Heavy Blaster Pistol.
• Twin Slugthrower Pistols.
• Rifle.
• Lightsabers with switched out red synthetic crystals.
• Lightsaber Shoto with switched out red synthetic crystal.
• Combat Knife.

""

<"">
<<"">>

 

[Alora Vizsla]

Alora reached up and scratched her head. <"Good luck, have fun, Shai! Oh, and don't get too close to the East side of the dome. It's busted. Monsters pouring in. Don't worry, I got this."> Though, she wouldn't complain if anyone wanted to help. Or evacuate civilians. All helpful things to do!

Yeah, they'd probably all focus on shooting each other in the face.

MEANWHILE outside the city, Gambit rocket-sledded onto the scene. Its trajectory took it parallel to the damaged section of the dome in order to pass by without plowing straight into the city. As he nyoomed by two red-hot drops carved parallel molten paths of death, destruction, and color through the vegetation outside the city.

Despite the unauthorized use of fire, Gambit wasn't indiscriminate with its use. The explosive combustion wouldn't touch the city itself. Long as the damp outdoors stayed damp between the fire-break and the broken dome. Also, insanely passionate beasts could go far enough out of the way to circle around the conflagration moat. Alora hadn't thought it would fix everything. Just keep the entire planet from waltzing in before they could do something. Most animals didn't really like fire after all. Neither did plants. They'd be fine though.

Wearing a thinner suit than normal, the colorfully maned woman darted toward danger. To think this silly place had demanded she not bring her disruptors. Violence is bad. Weapons are bad. Boo. Monsters gnawing on your bones were worse! Someone was free to debate the pros and cons of carrying disruptors everywhere with her later... after the ravenous monsters weren't trying to devour people.

Still didn't solve the problem of her not being armed though.

A scream tore through the air. It was like many others that had preceded it, but this one was loud, recent, and most importantly near. Alora saw a length of wood holding up a stall awning, and quickly plucked it from its tenuous perch as she darted by. Its owner wasn't anywhere nearby still. Probably running the other way like a good person fearing for their life should.

The long length spun rapidly overhead as Alora bounded into the fray. It snapped two-thirds of the way down when the end connected with the four-legged creature's head. Figured. It was a bit too long to start with. Alora would have thanked the doggie except it didn't look in a charitable mood with the glancing -- if painful -- knock to the head.

"Get out of here!" Alora cried as she set her feet between the Rodian and the beast.

POYO! Darth Strosius | Open
Shai Maji | Mandalorians on Comms​

 

[Zlova Rue]

Mandalorians were terrible spies. Zlova was aware that Volo Dragr would vehemently disagree with her, being who he was, but the fact remained a warrior culture obsessed with honor was ill-equipped for spycraft. Same was to be said for them waging a war against the Sith being the least Force-sensitive bunch in the galaxy. Their equipment did level the playing field a bit, however, which was why Zlova didn't write them off as a lost cause. Capable warriors. Great fun. Especially given she'd snuck in the front door before they slammed it shut on those like herself.

Zlova, on the other hand, excelled at spycraft. It had been her bread and butter back in the Empire. The Hutts and Sith could not have picked a better venue to hold their meeting to aid the Lethan in her task. This was familiar hunting ground. Hopefully it wouldn't taking seducing one of them into bed in order to fulfill the mission objectives though. Especially the Hutts. A bit too much like the old days that would be.

Under the circumstances, however, the red Twi'lek had to cover most of her tattoos with sweat-resistant makeup. Would have defeated the entire point to arrive early and get a job as a dancer. Face it: there wasn't a club in the galaxy that would turn down a red Twi'lek dancer. No, droid-only clubs didn't count. And most importantly of all, Zlova could dance.

In fact, Red was just sauntering onto stage when the Players finally started to arrive on the scene. Some of them even knew how to conceal their presence -- a skill Zlova herself knew quite well and would help prevent hostilities instantly breaking out. Enough of them didn't for a sharp-eyed woman like her to know what was up.

Not that the audience was in any way of aware of what was going on elsewhere in the club, or would have much cared. They were getting precisely what they paid all the credits for on booze and snacks with Zlova twisting about on stage for their enjoyment. Especially the one whose chin she tipped up a hair more with her toes. Special delivery, early Birthday Boy.

She'd miss the introductions, the ice-breaking, and the "will you, won't you betray me" moments of the evil assembly getting started, but Zlova knew those steps well enough nothing of value was lost. By the time her dance number was up, she'd just have to elude all the handsy types, check if they'd ordered or were 'gifted' a private dance, and then see about manufacturing a reason to get closer to the evil scum present.

Capture or Eliminate, right? With as little attention as possible. Honestly, Zlova would have to figure out who issued those orders. Assassinate Sith Lords without attention? That daydream got popped the moment the current personages entered the club.

Ozzmo the Hutt | Darth Empyrean | Darth Ophidia | Darth Carnifex

 

[Venari Krayt]

Tag(s): Thonn Rokkal
Equipment: In Bio
Allies: Thonn Rokkal | Enclave
Foes: Chipper | Open

Venari herself would be adorned in her scarred duraplast plate, keeping an appearance of a mercenary for the "Scrap trader". A worn cloak covered her head to hide the Beskar Helmet, though one thing she was not hiding at all was her massive heavy repeater. With some configurations to her armor, the exosuit was both protected and hidden right under the plate, causing people to raise a brow as they would see the woman carry around such a beast with ease.

One thing was for sure, she loved meeting another heavy gunner.

"Best suit up, finish up that drink my friend. There never is just one, once things do go loud I will be sure to have your back. And seeing as you are my senior i'm just gonna listen for when you give the go ahead..."

She says over their comms, glancing over at the target location from under the worn cloak.

"Right, I forgot to ask, we taking prisoners or is this a clean up?"