Placate and Appropriate | Black Sun Dominion of Jilrua

[Bachus]

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Bachus was a good soldier. He was no leader. Knowing himself, his temper would get him in trouble with everyone around him rather quickly. But being a good soldier was all about knowing the right thing to do, when it the situation presented itself. Getting his Alor off world so that he could live was a no brainer.

Silently, Bachus was thankful that the Verd’alor was here and took charge. He did not want to shoulder leadership—he just wanted to vanquish enemies. So when the Mandalorians joined up, Bachus had a big grin on his elephant face. Unshouldering his gatling gun and his oversized beskad, the cragmaloid lined up, ready to assault the hangar, with the acting Alor.

Bachus kicked it off. Stepping in front of the closed blast door, the huge cragmaloid took a couple of steps and front kicked the metal barrier. The might of the cragmaloid buckled the door and sent it sailing across the hangar. The barrels on his gatling laser cannon were already spinning. His meaty finger laid down on the trigger and fiery red bolts began peppering any targets of opportunity. The Clan filed in with blasters blazing with frightening efficiency. Clan Sharratt often worked as a unit—and as a unit, they were some of the best in the galaxy. Death came quickly to those resisting in the hangar…

[member="Graw ek'Thun"]
[member="Vox Stath"]

 

[Captain Gaki]

Objective IV
Stop Slave Transports from Leaving the System

Marauder-Corvette "Reborn"
Approaching Next Transport

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The Marauder-corvette "Reborn" would barrel through hyperspace as the whine of an object in the way would alert. The Reborn would drop out of hyperspace and right in front of a Quasar Fire II-class Cruiser-Carrier with its fighters already deployed. Before they could do anything, the Reborn would be shot to near pieces by the barrage of blasters and turbolasers coming their way as Captain Gaki screamed for forward shields as they fired back at the Quasar, knocking several fighters out in the process as theirs was scrambled in a desperate attempt.

Gaki saw it was going to be futile but they had to try as he gave an order he rarely if ever used. "Men, ram that Quasar at the hanger bay! I want the Marauder parked right on it!" The crew went silent before a confirmation response was given as people were told to brace. The Marauder being much faster than a Quasar would get the element of surprise as several components would explode nearby from the onslaught of firepower given from the enemy starfighters till finally, the Quasar attempted to turn but it was to late.

The Marauder would grind right underneath it, avoiding almost all its turbolaser fire from thereon out, scrapping straight into the hangerbay itself as vacuum would suck out the others pilots with turbolasers firing from the Reborn straight into the heart of the ship, hitting the engine room several times as parts of it would explode. Halting the others destruction, Captain Gaki would attempt to stand but could not as the Rodian that been with him would grab another blaster rifle as she spoke out with Gaki almost powerless, feeling the affects of the drug wearing off.

"Four fireteams with me. Starfighter squadrons, I want them eliminated, bring them closer to the Marauder for tractor beam pick offs."

The doors would slide open as the whine of hull breaches would echo throughout the Reborn as several men would rush past her. Those who were picked for fireteams seemed to be a mixture as they followed her with blaster pistols and other assortments of odd weapons, some being the females he rescued earlier. One seemed to even have a blaster repeater on her shoulders, probably from one of the former fireteams lost in action. They would head towards the hangerbay as there was Gamma One being fueled yet with blasters pointed at him, the human got the idea and flew them their short distance towards one of the undamaged hanger bays of the Quasar Fire and into the fray of hell.

 

[Broka the Hutt]

Objective 2: But We Are The Good Guys​

The Jilruans are a fractured species. Most are in the employ of the Hutt Cartels, some are independent, like the Outland Settlements, and the last group is a group of settlements that rebel against the Hutt’s control. Black Sun has thrown their lot in with the Hutts of Jilrua. In return for their allegiance, Black Sun will take care of their “rebellion” issue. Eliminate the rebellion sect.



For the past decades, Broka the Hutt has been strengthening his Kajiedic on Nal-Hutta and Nar-Shaddaa. One of the ways he did so, was aligning his organization with Black Sun to gain allies in the galactic underworld. Broka has noticed the efforts Black Sun has made in the possible dominion of Jilrua, and sees this as his opportunity to prove his worth in the organization. Being a a member of a prestigious line of Hutt lords, it only made sense to align the Hutts of Jilrua with Black Sun. He knew the ideals, and desires of the Hutts as he is one himself. It was time to convince fellow Hutts to become aligned with the larger organization to reap the benefits of money and power through joint efforts of other Hutts or underworld factions within the alligned syndicates Black Sun incorporates.

Broka's Chelandion,"Grancha Nem'ro", entered orbit to the planet of Jilrua after leaving Hyperspace. The trip there has been filled with revelry among the members of his Kajiedic he took with him. Unlike other Hutts that would sit in their palaces and let their goons handle things, Broka believed that to be the action of older Hutts that may have earned that right. He sat in the section of the Chelandion dedicated to serving him and guests on a thrown that was smaller than that in his palaces, yet large enough to fit him on journeys like this. As his ship enters the orbit of Jilrua, he attempts to make contact with one of the Hutts that are based on the planet in order to set a meeting between them in order to possibly unite the Hutts of Jilrua into aligning with Black Sun, and possibly to encourage the subjugation the outer settlements of the planet if the other diplomatic efforts failed among the other Black Sun representatives that traveled to this world. The Hutt that responded to his holo requests first was a Hutt that went by the name of Groda'la. Groda'la seemed to be a much older Hutt than Broka was based on the sheer size of the being, and the relaxed attitude Groda'la had (and would have) throughout the holo call. Broka knew he was young to be a leader of a great Kajiedic, which is what makes him very "respectful" when talking to elder Hutts like Gorda'la.

As Gorda'la appears in the message, Broka begins in Huttese; "I am Broka the Hutt. A Crime Lord of the Nar-Shaddaa skyline, and King of Jiguuna. I am here to represent Black Sun, which shows to be a promising power to all Hutts. Ties with the aligned syndicates that are incorporated through Black Sun can bring us Hutts to power like back in the times of the cartel of old. I do not wish to have our discussion of diplomacy entirely over the holo, and request a meeting with you in your home. We will discuss business properly if you accept this proposal for a meeting."

The Hutt of Jilrua seemed to acknowledge what Broka had to say. Grada'la responds with a look of suspicion to the stranger Hutt. He takes a while to formulate what Broka stated. Then, the aged Hutt (wizened by centuries of experience in the Hutt way of life) responds. "I, Grada'la the Hutt acknowledge your request, Broka, yet I know this way of life well. You younger upstarts are ravenous for power. Me, an aging Hutt may seem like a prime target. However, I am too knowledgeable of these affairs to fall for such a thing. How can you prove to me that you will not simply send your forces to my palace, and then kill me in my own realm?"

Broka half expected such an answer. The aged Hutts typically wish to spend the remainder of their lives/careers with pleasure, and not worry about gaining more wealth and power due to them reaping the rewards of the past centuries of gathering those two things. Broka is very familiar with such a custom due to seeing his "father" exhibit such behavior in the great final years of Fruka the Hutt. Broka knew he disturbed the semi-peaceful hedonism Grada'la may have been living in for the past decades or centuries, however he must secure this meeting for him to succeed in earning his keep in Black Sun. The idea was to truly make the allegiance of the Jilruan Hutts official, and not an informal agreement for service. Broka's plan is to simply make the Hutts of Jilrua truly sympathetic to Black Sun. He knows the Hutts may simply exploit the assistance to get rid of rebellious areas only to abandon Black Sun. A stupid move, yet the Hutts of Jilrua may coincide with old cartel values, of if one Hutt is slain by others, then they all avenge the fallen Hutt. The Hutts of Jilrua would have to be safely assumed to be capable of defending against retaliation from Black Sun in the instance they betray the trust of the united cartels. With such a situation in mind, Broka formulated a response.

"Your worry is duly noted. Though I may be young for a Kajiedic leader, I have had experience in this "line of work" as well. I am too smart and experienced to be as stupid enough to try and kill you when I have enough industries in my realm. Yours is too far away for me to manage if I decide to do such a thing as to kill you, and take over your assets Grada'la. With the honor of my Kajiedic, I promise that this is a legitimate meeting. Fellow representatives have come to the planet as you may be well aware of. So, I come to aid as well. My forces will be in the frontiers of your territory, as you have been gracious enough to allow me to offer such a meeting between us. We talk business, while the rebellions are handled by our combined forces. Us Hutts must stick together, and aid each other, in times like these. Times when the grand cartel is not as powerful as it once was. We must remain powerful, and I would not even wish harm to come to a fellow Hutt that I could have future business relations with. Surely you must understand Grada'la."

Again; Grada'la spent a minute, or two, processing what Broka offered in order to formulate a response. "You upstarts are such visionaries, but I accept your offer to have a meeting to discuss business between my Kajiedic, your Kajiedic, and Black Sun."

Broka let the satisfaction he felt for succeeding in this first step of bettering Black Sun relations with the Hutts on Jilrua show on his face. The idea of bettering relations with the Hutts of Jilrua may seem unintelligent and redundant to others of Black Sun, yet Broka is a Hutt. Thus, his being a Hutt makes him well versed in the ways of Hutts Black Sun wishes to do business with. Broka also knows that it is not just soldiers that win such endeavors as to gain dominion over a planet. These endeavors also need diplomats and ambassadors to ensure good relations with the local leaders of the territories. Such role is what he plans on being. The ambassador to the Hutts of Jilrua that gives these local Hutts the sympathies towards Black Sun from a fellow Hutt.

 

[Gad Calgaran]

"Now that you have completed the Might trial you may proceed to the next." The Jilruan leader said to the Black Sun party.

"The point of these trials is to test that a nation can fulfill the basic necessities of a nation." He raised a single finger, indicating the first trial. "The wealth trial demonstrates that a nation can sufficiently fund itself to support its subjects," he said, before raising a second finger. "The might trial demonstrates that it can train capable warriors." Then, he raised a third finger. "The wit trial will demonstrate the Black Sun's ability to handle sensitive crises."

"Normally this would be a mission for our own warriors but the news of Black Sun's arrival to our world and desire to invite us into its fold was conveniently timed. There is a settlement to the east full of people foreign to this planet. While we would be happy to leave them be, they have violated our sovereignty by taking resources and hostages from our lands. We require that the Black Sun rescue all of the hostages and deal with the settlement. How is up to you but if a single hostage is killed then you will fail the trial. Furthermore, destroying the settlement completely will also fail the trial. We wish to see your warriors in action, not a demonstration of your ships' ability to glass settlements." He explained.

"You will not receive aid from us in this affair, even from our scouts. If the Black Sun is not willing to risk its own soldiers or take the effort to launch such an operation then it is not worthy to have us as allies." He finished, walking away from the party.

"Hmm... interesting. Sounds like we have some work to do on this one." Gad said. "I have an additional asset that I think we can include on this one. Fimrati seemed pretty capable. I'll call for her after I arrange to get some intel on the location." He said, already starting to tap away on a datapad.

Fimrati Vailyippin Myra Tesari Nuema

 

[Fimrati Vailyippin]

Objective 1
Your Best Against My Best
Trial of Wit

After a short time, a twi'lek stepped towards the settlement in question. She'd geared for close quarters, owing the nature of the job. There were hostages held by non-Jilruan. Numbers not known on either the targets or the hostages. Made things interesting, but she'd had worse. Giving her carbine one last check over, she considered the situation.

Normal shake and bake encampment. Get in, establish presence, get what you want, bug out. Several buildings, so that meant possible chokepoints and hostage zones. All likely to make the whole thing a lot messier than it needed to be. Especially since not a single hostage could be killed apparently. Her plan was simple. Dining facility, then command structure, barracks, and then storage. If they had any other facilities established, she'd sweep them as well, but those four were the big ones.

Fimrati Vailyippin, AKA "Banshee", didn't normally take such odds if she could help it, but sometimes the situation needed it. She had her trusty pair of ZJ-15's on her thighs, ready to be drawn as needed. Still, she noticed the guards looked at her warily as she approached. No surprise, she did walk here from a personal shuttle landing nearby. The pair of guards tightened the grip on their weapons, but didn't otherwise show her hostility.

"Hold it right there slave-queen. You take another step and you'll find yourself riddled with bolts."

Fimrati did pause, looking bored between the pair. "I'm here with an ultimatum. Release the hostages or not a single one of your gang will be leaving this planet alive." She said, getting a laugh from the pair of them.

"You and what army huh? I see only one of you and there's a whole bunch of us." The guard replied, shaking his head at his partner. "How stupid do you gotta be to try and take us all on like that? I wouldn't be surprised if the boss put in for a Twi'lek to entertain us."

Fimrati shrugged, and in the process unslung her carbine and even while it was still in motion, bring it up to her shoulder and fired, killing the second guard while twisting smoothly to shot the second in the head, both shot heard across the field. As the two bodies hit the ground, Fimrati was already moving, jogging through the now unguarded gate. Of course, men were starting to stick their heads out, wonder who was shooting at who, or even what.

And as they realized what was happening, began yelling for others to hurry up and ready to fight. Fimrati didn't give them much time to organize, sliding into cover, and checking the charge. Sure, she only fired twice, and knew she had plenty of gas and power in the carbine, it had been ingrained in her to keep a constant clean tally of her ability to engage in a fight. Once certain, she twisted around the corner and sighted on her first new target, firing again. Another body dropped, as blaster fire began to return, the gang quickly gathering their bearings.

Fimrati's rough count of those actively engaging her at the moment was some near dozen. If her rough math was right, that mean there was another dozen inside not yet engaging her. Still, she was moving around the shack, her gaze glancing in and seeing none of the hostages, but one hostile trying to grab his blaster. She didn't give him that chance, shooting the window before putting two bolts into the hostile's back, barely watching the body convulse as it dropped. That done, she moved to the next corner, and glanced around it. No hostiles there. They likely expected her to continue a frontal charge down the center of the camp.

Instead, she moved behind the shack, and into the largest of the pre-fabricated structures present. Opening the hatch, she swept the hallway she found herself in, and found it empty, but the noise of people rushing through an open interior hatch clued her in. Moving through the hallway, she peeked around the hatchway, and saw 2 men stacking up against the far wall of the dining facility, readying themselves to burst out the door. Pushing in, she moved with brutal efficiency, shooting the one on the left in the chest twice and once in the head before the other one could properly react, which they did by throwing a table on it's side to give them concealment from her shots. She did the same, checking her carbine again.

"They're in here! The fucking mess hall!" They called out, clearly trying to get the attention of the rest of his companions.

Fimrati hit the cooling switch, and clipped the sling of her carbine to her harness, drawing both of the pistols. Pulling the slides back enough to check that the slugs in them were loaded and ready to fire, she gave a brief nod. Rolling out from her cover, bolts landing around her, she crouched behind a yet unflipped table, and aimed both pistols at the survivor in the dining facility, and pulled the triggers. With a loud 'woof' of sound as the slugthrowers fired their noise suppressed rounds into the head, the only part of the target she could clearly see, causing him to slump back and down, blaster getting one more shot off into the roof. Holstering her pistols as the carbine stopped cooling, she grabbed a hold of it as she stood up and moved.

Bolts were beginning to punch through the wall that the 2 members had been preparing to stand against. Exit that way was out. Looked like there might be a second floor, so Fimrati moved that way. She'd been lucky so far to not get hit. But she didn't hold onto luck as her own means. Which is why she kept moving. Kept herself from getting pinned down easily. Moving with a deadly purpose, she hit the hatch release in the hallway after entering it again, closing the door behind her. Moving to the still closed door other than the one leading outside, she opened it, revealing a closet. No interior access to the second floor. Troublesome, but not impossible. Just meant she took her way back out. Of course, the clink of a metal object landing in the doorway was a worse sound for her than the bolts slamming into metal behind her. So, throwing herself into the closet, closing the hatch and hoping she'd shielded herself from the worst of the grenade.

The muffled crack of air in the hallway was clue enough that she had. But, she waited a short while longer. Let them come in and check for her body. Letting go of her rifle, she once more grabbed her pistols. 14 rounds left in each, she took a few deep breaths as she readied herself. She heard the hostiles moving toward her, muffled but heard nonetheless. The shuffling of cautious footsteps was hard to mistake even with the hatch. So, she pointed both pistols at the door, and waited.

The door opened, and a man pointing blasters soon stopped as their head was punched through by 2 11.43x23mm, one from each pistol, slugs. Fimrati didn't give their body time to hit the ground, before she stepped out, and quickly counted the number of hostiles present. She was no Ziltus Jor expert, but she was qualified, she was experienced, and Fimrati was keeping herself under control as she spun into a firing position, firing twice on the hostile in front of her. Bolts flew back in retaliation, many narrowly missing her, but none made her flinch. She was used to being shot at. So she focused on moving from second target to the last. Weaving through the hallway, she focused on making it to the door, killing the remaining hostile in the hallway in the process. The last one ended with her having fired thrice into his stomach while he attempted to wrestle her to the ground.

Getting up, she hissed as she felt the bruise she'd gotten on one side, and the pain of her leg as she stepped out, seeking new cover to tally her state and the hostiles she'd engaged and removed already. Finding an empty shack, she slide in, and pressed her back to the door. Mag check... Carbine was fine, pistols were down to 9 in her right pistol, and 11 in her left. No time to cross load the ammo, but having mags with drain in them was bad, since she didn't have a full 14 clip in each with a round in teh chamber totalling 15 in each gun. Working the magazines around, she had to move slowly because of her side, but she slipped the partials into the magazine clips she had built into the thigh holsters for her pistols that were emptied of their fulls. That done, she took stock of herself. Leg wound was a graze. Hurt more than it really was. Good news. Meant she was still really mobile. Her side though, without removing her gear was harder to tell. Felt like a bruise, but the pain was more intense than a bruise should have. Maybe internal injury. Wasn't sharp or narrow, so it wasn't likely a organ injury. Was bottom of her rib cage, so probably a cracked rib. It would suck to deal with, and meant she wasn't a nimble as before, but she could work through it, and get it set later.

Now to track the number of kills she'd done... 2 at the gate. 1 in the central path. 1 in the shack. 2 in the dining facility. Another 3 in the hallway... 9 total so far. The number of those searching for her by calling out to each other like idiots gave her a rough estimate of maybe another 3, possibly 4 out there. So just over a dozen, but it was definitely a challenge. And that was just those searching for her. There could have been more inside the other buildings, then there was the potential for any covering the hostages. Something they likely were accounting for since the place wasn't being leveled or glassed, so there was clearly something that the attackers wanted. And the camp only had a small number of possible things worth the effort. Fimrati put her guess of unknowns at another 4. 2 to be hostage security, and 2 to be quiet eyes inside some building.

Taking a slightly painful, but needed, deep breath, she sought to reinforce her calm. No point freaking out or going into a fight with only partial information. Just focus on the known, and handle it. Checking around the door, she opened it back up, and listened for the callouts.

"Has anyone gotten a good look at them!?" One called out.

"No! Anyone who has is dead!" Another replied.

"So we don't even know if it's a team or a single person?! Fucking idiots!" Came the reply, from the first voice.

Well, good news for her. The enemy was confused as to extent of the attack they were under. That meant so long as she avoided them passing along information about her to the others, she could work through them. It also seemed they really didn't bother with radios in their own camp, which meant keeping that intel was much easier. Deciding to not bother with attacking those in the center of the camp, she instead opted to ensure that the only hostiles she had to worry about were in fact those in the camp.

Myra Gad Calgaran Tesari Nuema

 

[Gad Calgaran]

Gad watched from afar, utilizing a pair of binoculars and the thermal sensors from a Black Sun ship orbiting above. He was accompanied by a host of mercenaries, including a few from Tesari's crew, as well as a few others Gad knew and trusted. Once Fimrati found the hostages, his bunch would be able to swoop in and make sure they can get out safely. That was assuming they couldn't just wipe all of the enemies out. Individuals like Fimrati were probably a bit overkill for a situation like this, and given what he could see, he could tell that at this rate she might be able to just put an end to all of them herself.

"Are you going to save any for us?" He joked to Fimrati over the comms.

He wondered what the locals would think to them wiping the settlement out. It wasn't like they would physically destroy it. Perhaps they were looking to scavenge it. A thought crossed his mind that they maybe they just wanted an opportunity to test their own warriors against the survivors. The Jilruans were a warrior culture after all. It was also possible they might just respect their ability to engage without just bombarding everything. These trials were certainly strange. The Jilruans definitely knew what mercenaries were and didn't seem to mind that the Black Sun had hired other Jilruans to participate in the Strength trial for them. Was this just ancient tradition or ceremony required by old laws? Or did they just want a sample of the warriors the Black Sun could organize?

"If you kill all of them without managing to get the hostages killed, I'll pay you a bonus." He added in.

Tesari Nuema Fimrati Vailyippin Myra

 

[Fimrati Vailyippin]

Objective 1
Your Best Against My Best
Trial of Wit

Fimrati rolled her eyes as she moved from the shack to the next more solid structure. Was a three story beast, and looked like it had the comms antenna for the camp. So it most likely was the command structure. "You didn't request that for the job." Fimrati said, not specifying what she was referring to. Still, she had a lot of work ahead of her anyways. Giving a glance to the group outside, looking like they'd stacked up at the mess hall, she got a headcount. Three of them. Okay, she was high in thinking there was four, unless one had gone in, but judging by their hand and head movements, they were bickering over who was going in first, so she was pretty sure it was just the three. For now, she would leave them be. She still needed to find the hostages.

Stepping into the open hatch on the ground floor, next to the obvious vehicle bay hatch, she took stock of what they had to work with. One landspeeder with a weapon mounted on the back half, looked like it was more a net launcher than a heavy blaster, and there was a few speeder bikes. Nothing too fancy. Most of the ground floor looked to be occupied by the vehicle bay, with a hatch leading into a back section. Stepping through it, carefully, she noted what normally was supposed to be an armory had been turned into a recreation area, to judge by the decor and lack of armaments present. Still, there was a stairwell leading up, though it did it with a sharp 90 degree turn half way up.

Easing her way forward, taking care not to bump or knock into anything, she began to ascend the stairs. As she reached the landing at the mid point, she paused, straining her senses a moment. She could have sworn she'd heard someone shuffling around above her. Giving a glance around to see if there was any potential peep holes to shoot at her from, she then noticed the tripwire running along the bottom most step of the second half of the stairs. "Cheeky." She muttered, following the wire to the grenade primed to go off by a careless step. It looked like it'd been slapped into place in a hurry, meaning there was at least one hostile in the building. Seemed she would need to watch for any more booby traps.

Carefully stepping over the trap, because she didn't have time to work on disarming it, she continued up, soon reaching the main chamber, with it's holotable in the center and various displays along two walls with the front facing wall having a nice long set of windows overlooking the camp. Giving the contents of the table a look over, she noted the various circled locations and notes attached to them. Useful, but not to her. They didn't seem to have any notes indicating there was anyone out and about, which she figured from the full bay downstairs, but it was nice to see some kind of confirmation. Of course, there could be a group out and these folks just didn't bother tracking it in this room. So Fimrati kept it in mind.

Moving to the next hatchway, she noticed that it was left in a partially opened state. Which set off warning bells in her mind. Her guess was her mysterious trapper. Meaning she carefully looked over the door, it's frame, and what she could see on the other side of it without opening it for any more tricks. Seeing none, she didn't want to risk the chance of another grenade, so she found a spare length of pole, and used it to open the door from a distance. Hearing the 'shing' of something like a grenade being primed gave her enough warning to dive behind the holotable as the grenade went off. She could see the flash, and the loud crack of the grenade nearly deafened her, but finding it was flashbang was not a bad thing. Of course, the sudden flare of light in the windows probably alerted the trio outside. Meaning she needed to be ready to fight two sets of enemies coming from two directions now. Not a fun prospect. And she still needed to find whoever was inside to avoid the potential back attack while she held off the trio...

Myra Gad Calgaran Tesari Nuema