Public R A T R A C E

[Shego Striga]

A SNAKE AMONG THE RODENTS

Sigma Prime, A Young Cityplanet Brimming With Potential

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Overcity
Undercity
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It was all making sense to her now. The music of the cosmic forces around her subsided as she gasped and wheezed. Her hands suddenly jolted as if charged with electricity, gripping the old man by the vest and clutching with an almost supernatural grip. Pulling him in close as blood painted half of her face, piercing emerald eyes flaring as she coughed through a broken, sputtering respirator.

"L-lab. Wh-" She grimaced, as if using the processing power to manage audible speech were somehow draining her mental batteries. "The Lab! WHERE!?" She hissed venmously which caused the old man to flinch and lean back as she suddenly began coughing and wheezing violently and trembling as the muscles in her hands turned to jelly and she collapsed back to the ground coughing and violently retching as her lungs stung from breathing in the air of this polluted underworld.

"W-we don't know! Only you, V, and Lightwatch know." The old man calmly told the struggling doctor.

So she did know, of course. That made sense, it was her lab after all.

How hard had she hit her head?

Shego's problem (well, one of them) had been that she always wanted too much of something. If she saw a pretty star, she had to pull them all down from the sky, so she could study their radiance. If she saw cute little toys, no toy chest in the world was large enough to contain the quantity of all she would ever hope to want. If she tried a nice drink or sampled an intriguing substance, she would drink and consume until she hit the bottom, and once she hit the bottom of the barrel, the only bottom left to hit was the bottom of her brain.

And she had gone so high, she had gone so very high, she still had stardust glittering on her fingertips.

But you could only go so high before you come back down.

Somehow, Shego found herself at the center of the big bang, this time surviving yet another explosive encounter. Shego blinked, wondering, how did she end up here? Where was everyone? Yetis? Roma? Salvo? Enna? Sphinx? Zen? Maverick?

"--Maveeerickkk," Shego tried to call, coming out as a slur; she grit her teeth and clenched her jaw against the wave of STATIC that crashed through her brain. Static chilled her to the bone and filled her heartbeat, buzz buzz buzz instead of thump thump thump. "Maverick," Shego unlatched her jaw to release another disgruntled wheeze, "Where are you?"

"Doc, Mav was with you. In the senate building, he and you oversaw the treaty signing. He wa-"

"Standing right next to me~" She whispered at haunting realization. Mav, he had been her underling since she joined the rebellion with her...plethora of responsibilities. If anyone would remember where V and the Lab were it would be him but suddenly things were coming back to her. Mav was next to her when the senate building was struck in a bombing run. Hundreds of nobles, rebels, alliance representatives and third party overseers wiped off the board in a single fell stroke of a pen.

If Shego weren't so out of it she'd admire the genius of the play. Another party had finally made their presence known on the board, almost an entire year of work gone to waste in a single moment as the tides turned and targets became painted on their backs. Mav was right next to her at the signing table for a treaty to establish better conditions and stabilize relations between the classes. The blast had taken Mav, sparing her with injuries far less...fatal.

"Reports are in by officials and we are hearing-" A radio tuned in and out to static. A news reporter explaining the happenings and twisting a fine tale. The rebels were 'not satisfied' with the terms of the deal, and 'seeking to make a statement' struck the consulate to 'make an example' that the Sons & Daughters of Sigma Prime would not be subjugated to pitiful handouts by Noble scum. Oh it was just so clean, so prim and proper, a bow tied and gift wrapped to the public. Spoon fed outrage and dread as the Monarch Government was finally given a perfect excuse to execute their own signature brand of 'CRACKDOWN'.

There was one way this would play out now, the same way it always did. The ones who lived on the top? Would watch from their ivory towers as those below were squashed beneath a boot so large and rugged the insects lumbering below could not comprehend the stomping about to rain down on them.

And the rebels? Well, from here on out anyone the government had disapproved of up unto this point would be branded a rebel, conspirator, sympathizer...in fact, statistically speaking, chaos theory suggest such an event would have long lasting and reaching effects on multiple fronts. Whoever had initiated the attack, be it a outlying rebel or the government themselves, had turned the planet inside out with this.

"A-and this just in! We're receiving word that The Haven Coalition have entered negotiations to AID the rebels in this conflict! And, well reports are conflicting but word is Mandalorians have been spotted in a small number of districts and have taken up arms! Witnesses aren't certain whose side they are on but civilians are being warned to stay in their homes!" The reporter tried to maintain composure.

God it was all falling apart. The Old man looked to the others under the bridge as Shego groaned quietly.

"We should all disappear, try to wait for this to blow over. Get off world if you can! We failed, i'm sorry lads i don't know how we bounce back from this. We almost did it, we almost had a taste." He told them, causing a slight panic as Shego lifted a hand, gripping him by the shoulder and pulling as she reached up towards her face to peel away the broken mask on her face.

"N-no! Whoever bombed the consulate!" She coughed, gripping her ribs and holding her bleeding skull as she huffed. "Did it on purpose! There were representatives from EVERYWHERE here for that treaty. Liaisons for The Alliance, Investors from BLACK SUN! And god knows who else was there with their pinky in the bloody pie this deal was lucrative statistically speaking WE HAVE NO REASON to bomb it! But whoever did knew the government would spin it, knew it would bring EVERYONE into the fold. It's not just us and them anymore the field just became far more complex. Even mandalorians were here and are involved in this madness we have to assume the planet is going to go belly up rather the government responds violently to us or not everyone has a reason to grab a slice before the whole thing is gone why else would The Haven Coalition SIDE with us? Every Rat in the bloody race wants a piece of the cheese we can't predict how this will go now!" Shego explained lucidly, wiping the blood from her skull with her sleeve and shaking her head free of the static. "We have to get to the sewers! My lab is...close to the core of the city, the heart!"

"What's at your lab that can help us here! It's over! We need to duck in and hi-"

"I'M SICK OF HIDING DAMN IT! I WON'T LET THEM WIN OR ANYONE ELSE!" Shego snarled, grabbing the old man and shoving him to the floor as she grabbed a nearby rifle, switching it to safe mode and tucking it under her arm as a literal crutch to stand on. "Abandon your homeworld if thats your directive! If you want to fight for your place here however the future turns out help me! I need to get to my lab! We don't need to 'win' the conflict. We just need to establish a dominant position of influence!" She snarled, stumbling off under the bridge while rambling madly. "Treaty is gone! Adapt or die! They'll hunt you forever after pinning this on you the only way out now is forward!" She proclaimed, a couple of the rebels exchanging looks then looking at the old man before grabbing some of their gear and a handful of them leaving the underside of the bridge to follow the doctor. Someone grabbing Shego by her good arm and wrapping it around their shoulder to help her hobble along.

Yes, good...forward then.

If everyone was going to get a piece of the pie. Then she wanted the biggest slice~ And best part of being the snake in the rat race was when the rats ate, so did she.

So who else wanted a piece?

​

 

[Dom Nar]

A gauntleted hand burst from the rubble of the senate building. With a grunt, a duracrete slab was pusshed aside to reveal Dom Nar. He gritted his teeth through the pain as he pushed himself out and up. He gave himself a once over. Physically fine, if a little bruised. His durasteel armour had taken the brunt of the blast. It had helped he was in the refresher when the bombs went off, so wasn’t right at the blast.

A finger rose to the side of his helmet, activating the inbuilt Comm. He placed a call out on the Enclave channels, to try and group up with any survivors on this planet. “This is Dom Nar, trying to reach any remaining Mandalorians, on Sigma Prime” Dom took inventory of what he had. Most of his gear was destroyed or damaged in the blast. He just had to get back to his ship to get reequipped. Then he could figure out who was behind this. But the first step was survival.

 

[Glar Ulchtar]

Tags: Shego Striga Dom Nar

The view of the city was excellent from the balcony of the upper-city hotel room. The dusk sky of Sigma Prime was an exquisite dark green color. The verdant sky made Glar Ulchtar nostalgic for the summer sunsets of his home planet of Oba Diah, as he stared out into the distance. But he definitely wouldn’t be going back there any time soon.

Of course, Sigma Prime wasn’t exactly the safest place in the Galaxy for Glar to be right now either. The Pyke Syndicate surely had plenty of “eyes” here, not to mention the fact that the planet was in the middle of a civil war. Glar was simply here out of convenience, as it was the most civilized planet nearby when he realized that his ship was running low on supplies. He was only planning to stay one night, just to break up the monotony of being cramped up on his ship for days on end.

Something was starting to feel wrong though. Very wrong. Glar’s connection to the Dark Side of the Force was practically screaming at him to leave the hotel. He quickly threw the items that he had taken out back into his suitcase, and practically ran out of the room. He dashed to the elevator, and pressed the “ground floor” button several more times than he actually needed to.

As the elevator began lowering, Glar heard some faint booming noises. The noises continued, and got closer. And closer. The loudest boom was accompanied by the deafening snap of a metal cable. Then, the elevator began dropping much, much faster.

For an instant, Glar had no idea what to do. Then, he remembered that he could use the force to slow the elevator’s rapid fall. He managed to slow the elevator’s descent to a stop just before it hit the ground floor. He breathed out a sigh of relief, and sat down in the broken elevator.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Glar activated his red lightsaber, and cut through the elevator doors. The scene outside was grisly. What had once been a pristine hotel lobby was now unrecognizable. The room was full of shattered glass, broken support beams bent at odd angles, and injured guests. Almost nobody had even seen him cutting through the doors with a lightsaber, and those who had were in too much pain to care.

Stepping out of the hotel, Glar looked around the city to assess the damage. The Senate Building seemed to have been hit much worse than the hotel had. Before, it had been the most prominent building on the city skyline. Now? Glar couldn’t even see it through all of the smoke.

Staying out on the streets like this would accomplish nothing but make Glar an easy target though. Right now, he needed to get somewhere safe. Seemingly confirming his worries, he heard a voice shout at him. Glar turned around, just in time to see a Pyke wearing a Pyke Syndicate uniform fire a blaster pistol at him. Glar barely managed to dodge the blaster bolt. Before the other Pyke could fire at him again, Glar took out his own blaster. The other Pyke reacted slower than Glar had, and Glar’s shot landed right between his eyes.

This situation was getting worse and worse. Between the bombing, and the Pyke Syndicate being here, Glar needed to get out of this city quickly, and quietly. His ship was at the hangar area near the center of the city, which was about a kilometer away from his current location. Assuming there were more Pykes patrolling the streets, he would probably never make it. Unless, of course he used the sewer system. The nearest sewer entrance was about a block away from him. Glar began walking towards it, keeping his blaster in his hands. He had a feeling he would be running into more Pykes before this escape was over.

 

[Lark]

Lark lay cradled atop a window's edge on a balcony overlooking the city, nighttime robe gently caressing his ankles as the midevening breeze danced across the Sigma Prime skyline. Never one to accept a cup of coffee, a warm mug of apple cider made his hands feel as though he was holding them up to a campfire at the peak of some wooded mountaintop, a bit of snow dotting the ground here and there. Not enough to soak ones socks, but enough to enjoy the arctic palette mixing with the evergreen scenery. And indeed, the embers of a small fire chirped and sang within the hearth of the Vered Sky-Tower. If one pretended the columns of smoke rising above the city heights were smokestacks from the chimneys of festive families, it looked as though Sigma Prime was on the eve of some merry holiday.

Even the other members of House Vered seemed to be in the holiday spirit. And by that, they were all yelling at each other. For it was not snow that well from the dark clouds above, and the storms of smoke were not from a familial gathering before the holiday season. Ash blown up from the smoldering senate building drifted onto the balcony Lark rested upon, he had to cup his hand over the lip of his mug to prevent any cinders from polluting the drink he had worked so hard to mix.

This certainly wasn't how the evening was meant to unfold. The Vered family, while not the most significant noble family on the young planet by a longshot, were to play a vital role in the signing of the treaty. They had separated themselves from the nobility some time ago, dissatisfied with the way the ever-engrossing politics of high society were heading. They had enacted clauses that would have limited the power of the upper classes, much to the overwhelming chagrin of their peers. Though the rebels remained infuriated that not every one of their demands could be met, and believed that the Vereds were at best Champagne Socialists trying to win some goodwill with the underworld, spokespeople for all entities involved had given their oath that the treaty would be signed without incident. That throughout the night, there would be celebrations. Uneasy toasts and cheers, sure. But a step in the right direction.

That was before the senate was reduced to a pile of rubble. Now only upturned stone and assorted pits of limbs and viscera remained.

The Vered Sky-Tower was in uproar. The patriarch of the family had been sent to sign for their family, and another representative had already confirmed that the man was killed during the initial bombing run. Now Feronna Vered, widow of the deceased, was thrust into the limelight during the most tumultuous moment in Sigma Prime's history. The woman had not married for love, she had been forced to marry very, very rich in order to keep up with the lifestyle in which she had become so accustomed to in her youth. She had dined with kings and politicians from Coruscant to Naboo, but as age took it's toll and her former drinking companions moved onto greater positions or were assassinated, their successors felt no attachment to the woman obsessed with her past. She became the former Lord Vered's paramour to try and relieve her glory days, and now she faced a crisis of unimaginable consequences with nothing but her family's checkbook. Not a degree of wit behind those panicked eyes.

She had produced something special during her time as the matriarch of House Vered. A daughter; one Cardinal Vered. Far more clever than both her parents combined, Lark and Cardinal had become close during his tenure at House Vered. Not close enough to know that they both shared an avian name, as far as she was concerned Lark was actually Ronan Rivers, an enterprising student whose internship with the family went so well they had accepted them into their inner circle.

Of course, there was another reason Lark was so interested in Cardinal. But he would have to wait to press her about her knowledge of his brother.

After abandoning the Sith Empire following it's collapse, Lark had travelled from world to world assuming various identities. Most of them had been pretty mundane, a simple life with a routine schedule that he could slip away from as easily as he arrived when he desired something new. But this was different. Lark had schmoozed his way to the top of the political ladder, Lord Vered saw Ronan as the son he never had, and Feronna saw him as someone that could take care of her responsibilities for her. Cardinal was obviously suspicious of the young newcomer who was so beloved by her parents, but when it became clear the two of them could run the family better than their elders, they became quite the duo. It was Ronan and Cardinal's influence that led to the Vered's stepping away from the miasmic fetidity of the Old Noble households, and suggesting limits over their power.

They had played the game well up until this point. Already fingers had been pointed at every party involved in the treaty, including the Vereds. Their losses had been minimal compared to the rebels and the rest of the nobility, there were whispers that Lorenna, Ronan, and Cardinal had intentionally ousted the former house head and the bulk of other noble families in order to place themselves in a position of power. Lark would have called that notion ridiculous, if he hadn't considered the option himself. The Sith in him never really went away for good. Contacts in the Sigma Prime black markets could have given him an arsenal of weapons as well as hands to use those weapons, but he never really let himself plan an attack beyond the formative thought process.

A transparent blue image of Cardinal flashed to life in front of him, she had been shooting a music video at a nearby trainyard when the attack occurred. Sure, it was nepotism that let Cardinal obtain a venue into the entertainment industry. But she at least had a nice voice. "So, who did it?" She asked simply.

"Trying to figure that out myself. Doesn't really make sense for any of the signing parties to do something this drastic. I had expected someone might make a move on our house, but our house alone. There aren't any political goals that are worth this... destruction. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, the partisans and I are all having tea," Cardinal responded dryly. "Ronan, the streets are going to erupt in a full-out warzone any minute now. But I don't think the rebels are responsible for this either. They're disliked as is, if they struck at a time like this it's ranking as the most tone-deaf attack of all time. They're far too easy a pin cushion. Someone else did this."

"Then we're in agreement. Also... I should let you know. Your father's hollow heart has given out. He didn't make it."

Cardinal's image went still for a moment. "Oh," was all she could manage. "I... suppose I should have realized he was in danger a bit sooner. He didn't love me all that much, and yet he still loved me more than most. This will take some getting used to. How's my mother?"

"What do you mean we can't fly out of here?" Lorenna shrieked as the head of security explained that there were bombers and aerial combat littering the skyline of Sigma Prime.

"That answer your question? Looks like you're the head of House Vered now."

"Evacuate the Sky-Tower immediately, it's too prime a target. Meet me at Vered Manor, it's much more defensible and has tunnels and cellars underneath the basement if it's targeted. Put out a limited broadcast stating that any seeking refuge can find it at the manor."

"I issued an order to relocate to the manor as soon as the bombs went off," Lark said, sipping on his cider, still sitting snug atop the Sky-Tower's balcony. "But are you sure about broadcasting the manor as a safe haven? That's an invitation to turn your childhood home into a battlefield. How can you be so sure all of the haven-seekers mean well?"

"I'm looking at the streets now, Ronan. These people are scared. They need somewhere to go. Please, put out the broadcast."

It was the answer Lark had wanted to hear. He had known how clever she was, but he hadn't expected this level of altruism from the woman. In her most private moments, she had expressed anywhere from an indifference towards a disdain towards the rest of Sigma Prime, no matter their social standing. Is this what you saw in her, brother? "It shall be done. Stay safe, Cardinal."

"You too, Ronan. I'll see you soon."

The transmission ended, and Lark immediately rose from his swathe of cloth and cushions so high above the city. Lorenna and her aides were gone, Ronan forgotten. He cared not where they fled. With a quick press of a button, Lark's voice, so sweet and gentle, like an older brother reading their sibling a bedtime story, echoed over nearby city blocks, occasionally drowned out by artillery fire and the death throes of the dying. Sigma Prime was not ready for the blood that was about to be shed. Hopefully, he and Cardinal could save someone.

"Dear citizens of Sigma Prime, take shelter as quick as you are able. We know not who has wrought this bloodshed, but to the innocent in need of protection: Seek out Vered Manor. Our gates will be open to you. We cannot promise sanctuary, but the cellars and tunnels underneath might offer protection against further blasts-"

The broadcast was suddenly cut short, though Lark knew not why. It's range was limited, hopefully the streets outside the manner wouldn't turn into a killing zone.

It also meant it was time to leave. Quickly changing out of his nightrobe into noble attire of scarlet, white, and gold, enchanted Sith dagger sheathed at his side, Lark descended the Sky-Tower and made his way towards Vered Manor.

Shego Striga Dom Nar Glar Ulchtar

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Wearing: Interceptor Gear

Armed With: Nathan's Lightsaber

Ionised Stun Pistol


Sigma Prime had had many secrets.

He had spent days on the world searching for it. In-between foiling kidnappings, attempted murders, drug deals, compulsively. He couldn't stand to be idle.

However, just when he thought the past week couldn't get anymore interesting, resting in the shoddy, run down motel he woke up, feeling danger everywhere. Suffering. Death on a very large scale. He was dressed immediately, not sure what was going on. Not sure he wanted to find out.

Nathan saw fighters overhead. His ship was a block away. There was a Bloodscrawl Vault he still needed to find before he left, having pieced together old, half decayed records. But he saw the military starting to storm the streets, army breaking down doors to drag screaming citizens out.

His normally cold, mirthless expression hardened when he saw the news in the Holonet Projector before it was cut off. Their senate building had been bombed.

The Government had decided full crackdown for everyone, regardless of guilt or innocence.

As he left a now rapidly being abandoned motel, people eager to get to their starships and get the hell off the planet before it could be blockaded, Nathan knew he wasn't going anywhere.

He saw a long black repulsorlift truck pull up, and a swarm of government troops filed out, some aiding in the detainment and arrest of citizens, others pointing their weapons at him and the ones trying to flee.

Nathan's Lightsaber flashed in, as the situation was now way out of his control. He saw that familiar hesitance. The same that every low level enforcer gets when they see a Lightsaber active.

Nathan brandished his dark blue blade

(DIRECTIVE 1: SERVE THE PUBLIC TRUST)

Nathan decided to try a little reasoning first.

"These people haven't done anything..." he called out. "Whatever's going on, whoever's guilty of the bombing... surely it doesn't warrant entire blocks being arrested..."

"Stay out of it Jedi! Come quietly!" one of the soldiers shouted back.

"Drop your weapons." Nathan ordered. "There's no need to do this to Civilians."

"OPEN FIRE!"

Nathan manipulated the blue blade in the Soresu form, shifting his position ever so subtly to deflect or evade blaster bolts, making sure that the bolts deflected traveled down to the ground, rather than risk hitting fleeing Civilians in the distance. They tried to concentrate their fire, only for him to teleport behind them, switching in the non lethal functions of his blade and delivered a blow to his opponent's shoulder, the stun function so powerful it traveled through his armor, knocking him out cold as he deflected the next blaster shots from panicked soldiers, smacking his blade into each torso And knocking the victim out cold, painlessly.

Soon the initial squad had all been rendered unconscious. Nathan yelled at the others to get into the truck and grab their Weaponry and Uniforms along with their identification.

This was right as a strafing run from a starfighter began, blasting away at buildings. He headed into the truck, desperate for some kind of ordnance, and found it in a knockoff RPS-6 Launcher, getting out quickly and loading, brushing past terrified Civilians clambering into the truck and aimed, switching it's guidance system on as the Starfighter, an old TIE Bomber, came for another pass.

Nathan fired just as it did, and he was knocked down when a few of the laser cannon blasts hit close by. Pain erupted on his side, but his use of the Force managed to mitigate and absorb some of the damage from small bits of flying shrapnel and he staggered up, watching the bomber crash into the street.

He walked over, clutching his side, dark blue Lightsaber active as he went to inspect the cockpit, finding the injured pilot crawling out.

"You survived." Nathan noted coldly, walking up and pointing the Lightsaber at him as he coughed.

"What's the meaning of this? Why are you attacking these streets indiscriminately?" Nathan demanded in an icy, quiet voice, eyes narrowed into slits.

"Orders from high up...all...rebels...to be purged..." the pilot coughed.

"Because of the bombing..." Nathan muttered. "It's just an excuse to bring the planet under complete tyranny, wipe out all political rivals. Surely you realize that."

"Orders...are orders...Jedi..." the pilot replied.

"Not at the expense of the innocent they aren't." Nathan replied frostily, dragging the pilot who screamed from his broken leg and ribs as he was moved across the ground. Nathan had no sympathy. He tossed the pilot in the truck, ordering one of the Civilians to bind the pilot. He then searched the nearest apartment for survivors while some Civilians took the Soldier uniforms and armor, putting them on.

Nathan heard screams and used his Lightsaber to slice open the door behind from which the screaming had issued.

Nathan pulled rubble of a partially crushed adult who had successfully protected a screaming baby. Nathan carefully checked the infant for injuries, but the baby was just scared, not knowing what was going on.

He carefully took the infant from the mangled, crushed corpse and brought it down to the truck, then he raced back up to look for more survivors. But the entire upper half of the apartment complex was on fire from the Starfighter attack and it had spread so quickly that he was soon forced to abandon the building and head to the truck.

Nathan changed into one of the uniforms to that fit, taking their ID and one of their DC-15S carbines, hiding his Lightsaber. Then he got in the pilot seat and made a beeline for the Civilian hangar he had landed his starfighter in. City Troops had already surrounded it, to prevent attempts at fleeing.

Nathan stared at one of the Civilians who had put on the uniform.

"Can you shoot?" he asked in a tone just as cold as the one he used to address the TIE pilot.

The Civilian, who was terrified by Nathan's icy glare, only nodded.

"Good..." Nathan replied. "Try and act natural..."

Nathan pulled up to the checkpoint outside the hangar, hoping the troops wouldn't be too familiar with the uniforms...