Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public Operation Stickup



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LOCATION: THE SHED

LEVEL 1274, CORUSCANT

LOCAL TIME: 0123 HOURS

Got an underworld character that goes on Coruscant? A mercenary that works out of Coruscant?

Got a character that lives on Coruscant? Got a smuggler who hates the Empire?

Bring em in... we're cooking up a plan.

Open to everyone... especially the bad guys.






Tulan Kor, back from the dead.

The Alliance had it's back against the wall.

Again.

There were no Empires to save him.

There were no forces to fight his fight for him anymore.
He was again, right where he started.


Coruscant.

Where everything happened, everything revolved around. The galaxy lived and breathed through Coruscant. Every nerf herder in the galaxy that wanted to be somebody wanted to be on Coruscant. Wanted to have it. Wanted to be on it. Billions and billions of people, all in one grotesque, gigantic, overblown city.



Which is precisely why Setter Ryburn Setter Ryburn made this hideout all those years ago. The Shed was a secret that was forgotten, like a lot of the Coruscant underbelly. Warehouses full of gear, weapon depots lay forgotten, you name it, it came and went and was forgotten about three times before being remembered on Coruscant. Overhead, there was the screeching of passing speeders and ships, ferrying people and cargo from one skyline, from one level to the next.

The Shed was posted between two giant turbolifts, and while there wasn't much sound from them, they did shake the place somewhat when they activated every once and a while. Tulan had picked it for a reason, it was secretive, it was appropriate, and most importantly- he missed it.

He had gathered everybody that was somebody, or that wanted to be somebody, or was somebody's somebody, or more importantly, is somebody. He himself was in the "was" category of somebody. He was approaching 60, and this would probably be his last fight. But Coruscant was too important to let the Sith come and take it. They swept in on Tython, taking back what he had killed and bled for so hard. So Tulan did the only appropriate thing, and really the only thing he knew how-

He went rogue, he went off the deep end, and he went behind everyone's backs to make a decision.

His decision wasn't overtly complicated, but it had overt complications if it went wrong. He was facing the wall, looking at the Razor team logo, along with the fading Havoc Squad symbol painted on the wall by Setter himself. He ran a hand over the wall, his scarred face unable to show much emotion.

The Alliance was desperate, and it needed help. They would never admit it, but the Senate was in Chaos, the Defense Force was fractured in response, somewhat. Some wanted to fight tooth and nail, others wanted a tactical victory. Others wanted to setup a guerilla-esque campaign. Tulan wasn't a fool. The Alliance was desperate. And desperate times, called for desperate measures.

Tulan understood the value of the criminality of the galaxy better than a lot. A few Jedi, Defense Forces, some of them had this silly worldview that all of criminality was bad or useless or even harmful. But the last time he was on Coruscant, he was helped by the criminal underworld. In reality, the criminal underworld was not really an underworld. It was a business, a large, business that provided a service that people wanted and sometimes needed. Information, goods, moving people in and out sneaky-like, you needed something, it wasn't allowed, someone had it or did it.

And business was part of the reason that Coruscant was where it was. The Senate, the Alliance, sure, they had their claim of Coruscant, but the truth of the matter was a hundred levels below the Senate, nobody gave two shits about a Senate vote, a referendum, or who's temple was who's. Jedi, Sith, Alliance, Empire, it didn't matter. A flag on Coruscant just blocked out the sun when you were that deep below the surface.

But this kind of attack was bad for business. Bad for profits, bad for margins. For everyone. Everyone had a vested interest in keeping Coruscant spinning, and people who could use their minds to wipe a planet, or worse, crack it like they tried to with Tython.

So, he did a sensible thing.

He asked them for a meeting.

He ran his hand over the emblem as more gathered, taking in a deep breath. He wouldn't say anything yet- he'd just let them all come in, and see who answered, who came, and who wanted to make sure their ugly little planet kept spinning.

"Hopefully this works..."

He said quietly to himself, looking at the Havoc squad emblem layered on the wall. He wondered who else would show, from the Alliance or otherwise.








 
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Tag: Tulan Kor Tulan Kor

Amongst the arrivals coming was a green armored Mandalorian. Decked out in full gear and armed to the teeth, Minerva Fhirdiad took a spot by some crates at a corner to the left. Accompanying her with several of fellow Talon commandos regardless of rank. They wore none of the standard Alliance uniforms or armor but wearing makeshift gear that made them resume more like blasters for hire and even pirates. Each of them handpicked for their 'less than legal' backgrounds, though mostly hailing from the Outer Rim.

Sitting on a crate with arms folded over the chest the warrior looked around, numerous gang members, bounty hunters, smugglers, assassins, mercs, con artists and other kinds of thugs. Some of whom she even recognized from holo-posters and intelligence files. Their presence made it clear to her how serious the lords of the planet's underworld were taking this crisis.

Despite having helped put down a prison revolt rotations ago she wasn't naive about this arrangement. Coruscant needed all willing hands for the fight to come and every advantage that came with it.

Unlike many civilians on the planet's surface most of the scum and villainy here knew how to fight and were quite unconventional at it as well. Something that is certainly needed.

Minerva subsequently turned her T-visor gaze toward the host himself, wondering.

It will be interesting to see what he offers them.
 
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| Location | Coruscant Underbelly
| Objective | See what the fuss is about


It wasn't much of a secret in the upper echelons of the criminal underworld what was coming to Coruscant. Information regarding the inevitable attack from the Dark Empire against the capital of the Galactic Alliance was all over the feed as some organizations began to scramble to relocate their assets and headquarters away from the inevitable warzone that Coruscant was bound to become. Zayah naturally had some of her own assets and business shifted off world in light of the news, but Coruscant was her home so it made sense to keep her investments and such as they were. That being said, she held no allegiance to the Dark Empire or the Galactic Alliance; so long as business and credits flowed and war was typically good for business.
This was not the case for some who evidently did not like the idea that Coruscant may fall to the Dark Empire given that an invitation for the criminals of Coruscant to convene for a meeting, which was sensible. They all had a right to corroborate on the best course of action so that they could all benefit. If the Dark Empire did come to decimate the planet entirely then Zayah was more than happy to contribute in some effort to ensure that their business on one of the largest hubs for criminal activity in the galaxy stayed around long enough for them to profit off of.
Zayah's hands were tucked away in her pockets as the sound of her boots along the ground came at a steady, rhythmic pace. For the sake of the meeting she came by herself, preferring not to make a big scene or make any other potential attendees nervous. She soon found herself at the entrance to the meeting place, giving a quick little glance before stepping in. It seemed she was fashionably early to the party, with only whom she assumed to be the one who called the meeting and a Mandalorian. She'd give them a brief nod of acknowledgement before pulling a box of cigarettes from her pocket, lightly tapping one out of the box as she lifted to her lips, pulling the cigarette free from the box before slipping the pack away and pulling out a lighter. She'd cup her hand over the end before lighting the cigarette, patiently waiting for the meeting to proceed.
 


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LOCATION: THE SHED

LEVEL 1274, CORUSCANT

LOCAL TIME: 0127 HOURS

Descending downwards was not an easy task, especially for someone who didn't want to be found. Any type of movement on Coruscant was dangerous when you were actively trying not to be found.

Tulan finally turned around, addressing the first two in the room.

"My name is Tulan Kor. Quick resume, I was in Havoc Squad in the Republic, I lead and developed the Antarian Rangers in the Silver Jedi, and I then was the premiere Commando for the Alliance, then after I assassinated a Senator, I went to the Empire and was in the Stormtrooper Special Forces Corps. I fought the Sith from one end of the galaxy to the next."

He flicked a glance between the two.

"Which makes me saying that this is pretty bad carry more weight."

He stood up, walking over to the Echani, lighting her cigarette for her just a hair before she lit it with her own lighter. He looked between her and the Mandalorian, sitting down at the table, but not at the head.

"The Dark Empire taking over, or damaging Coruscant in such a way that impacts the Alliance, impacts the Underworld. Even moreso than I think anyone coming, or affected would like to admit. The Underworld goes, the whole balance of the galaxy gets turned topsy-turvy."

He tapped the table, thinking carefully how to say the next part.

"The Alliance doesn't like me, doesn't like you, and doesn't like this idea. But I'm a realist and I know how the galaxy works. Smugglers, scumbags, slicers and slavers make the place go around- and we need their help. They need Coruscant and so do we."

He stopped, the massive scar on his face twitching, as much of a grin as he could muster when half of his fucking face worked. Sometimes he was glad he didn't kill Nida Perl Nida Perl . Sometimes he wished he finished the job.

Maybe then he could smile again.

"So. Be aware before we get into anything, this isn't going to be a friendship, or a pardon. This is reality."





 
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"Of which I am perfectly comfortable..." came a heavily disguised voice that stepped out of the shadows wearing black, horned Antique Jedi Armor that would not be a something a Jedi would normally wear. Nathan Bloodscrawl, secret head of Bacta-Works, his fingers extending ever deeper into the intelligence community, deeper into the underworks itself, was willing to break a ton of rules to try and stop the Dark Empire where it stood.

Nathan took a seat. It was his first time actually using this armor off of Kytrand.

"A Pardon, if it existed, would be worthless to me..." he muttered, the red lenses of his fully concealed helm glittering in the smoke and darkness.

"Let's start hearing ideas... because the Sith are almost certainly having or have already had the meeting of just how, exactly, to deal with the Underworld thriving here..."

Tulan Kor Tulan Kor

Minerva Fhirdiad Minerva Fhirdiad

Zayah Bane Zayah Bane
 
Tags: Tulan Kor Tulan Kor | Minerva Fhirdiad Minerva Fhirdiad | Zayah Bane Zayah Bane | Nathan Bloodscrawl Nathan Bloodscrawl

---

Aeron walks through the door, and before taking a seat he looks around the room hastily, to get an idea of the kinds of people who showed up. The arrangement of talent looked promising. As Aeron pulled out a seat, he announced,

"The sith are going to be a problem, sure, but we'll also probably have to deal with some blaster tooting henchmen. For that, I'm your guy. No buckethead is going to have a better shot than me..."

Aeron plunges himself on the chair and pulls out a silver flask from his jacket and continues,

"...and that's just when I'm drinking this. Imagine how easy a sith would be when I'm straight!" As Aeron takes a sip.
 


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LOCATION: THE SHED

LEVEL 1274, CORUSCANT

LOCAL TIME: 0131 HOURS


After everyone that was gonna be there, or had come in already, Tulan stood up, snatching the cigarette from Zayah's mouth. He took a drag then stabbed it out on the table.

"No smoking in a hideout."

Tulan looked around the table, knuckles pressing into the table that housed Havoc Squad, Antarian Rangers, and Task Force Raider at one point. The baddest of the bad.

"First, we put out the word that working with the Sith in any capacity will result in extrajudicial punishment. By that I mean there will be no trial. No court. No arrest. No warrant. You will die. The Sith are not welcome on Coruscant."

He looked around the table, finding it a perfectly agreeable term.

"I can make the action happen if you all fail to make it so. Anyone coming to you with a plan or an offer, you let me know, and they'll be shot in the back of the head and dumped in a trashcan by the end of the night."

He paced around the table, hands folded behind his back. Even older as he was- nearing 60, he had the distinct presence of an apex predator, the man who would not, and should not be fucked with.

"I am proposing more importantly- an agreement. A militia. Outside of Alliance command, under a common interest of not messing up our businesses here on the planet. After the war is over, it's dissolved, and we go back to cops and robbers. But for the time being- everyone fights together."

He looked up at the flags on the wall. Imperial, Republic, Alliance, Antarian Ranger, Atrisian- all walks, all came here to fight at one point or another.

"We fight for our home."

Minerva Fhirdiad Minerva Fhirdiad l Zayah Bane Zayah Bane l Nathan Bloodscrawl Nathan Bloodscrawl l Aeron Dosh Aeron Dosh

 

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