Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Shoring Up | First Order Dominion of Anoth and Faldos

Progflaw99

Well-Known Member
Location: Open Air Market, Faldos
Objective: 4, Escape the Market
Post: (3)

Ah faldos, the land of opportunity - if you're willing to look for it. Buruk Surhai of Clan Vhe'viin found himself on Faldos for a number of reasons, but the main one? Disruptors. Oh sure, he could have gone to any other backwater world closer to home to pick up a disruptor but this was something special. So far he hadn't had as much luck as he'd hoped, the merchants had been tight lipped, wary of the outsider.

It wasn't terribly odd to find a Mandalorian in these parts of the galaxy, bounty hunters, private security, even solo ventures cropped up just about everywhere. Buruk however was non of those - at least he hadn't had to stoop that low yet. The Alor'ad of Clan Vhe'viin took his time. He'd been following the transactions of a local gun runner, word was he had what Buruk was looking for. The only way to find out would be to approach him.

As inconspicuously as possible, he began his way across the market, eyes set on the man's small stall - he would find what he was looking for, one way or the other.
 

Hansen

OOC Writer Account

Thalera Isianthar
Faldos Orbit, FIV Ashira, Bridge.
Objective 4: Engage Smuggler Vessels.
Post: 1

Thalera chews on a small block of white chocolate between her teeth contently before stuffing the empty wrapped into her grey tunic pocket. Left-hand fiddles at her rank plague for a moment, the ripples of hyperspace around the Interdictor-Cruiser earns the Eldorai woman's awe and wonderment until the warning of realspace reversion comes from a crewman. Thalera heaves forth an irritated sigh with the dip of head for a moment in a defeated gesture. They pull out relatively close to the backwater planet and close enough to some unidentified Civilian ships that Thalera's keen gaze could identify them as suspecious in their appearance and activity, particularly with the speed in which they start pulling away from the Imperial Star Destroyer sized interdictor. Gesturing for the weapons officer. "Bring all Turbolaser batteries forward, charge gravity wells and get our tractor beam crews into position!" Thalera barks the orders more akin to a grizzled army officer than a respectable Naval Captain or even just a career public servant, hinting to her beginnings as a Colonel within the Eldorai Army in years gone by. Recent years that Thalera would rather not recall immediately. "Flight, sound the klaxon and get our aircrews to their fighters, prepare to deploy both squadrons." With the weapons officer delivering a brief report on the preparedness of the gravity wells. Thalera thrusts her index finger towards the transparisteel glass and the 'smuggler' ships behind them. "Block the escape vectors of those moving ships and perform an SSID scan, now!" The communication and forensics officer oblige and begin performing a scan of the ships and unsurprisingly they returned SSID signatures of vessels that were wanted for a variety of offences from piracy, smuggling to spice running. "Engage the designated targets and only the designated targets, I do not want to be hitting friendlies or civilians!" Thalera orders and before long the few fore turbolaser batteries start discharging their emerald-green lances across space. The Ashira closing too quickly, she wants to keep all of her prey fore in front of the turbolasers, gravity wells and tractor beams. "All engines ahead-one third!" The Ashira's inertia steadily overcomes the reduced speed and it decelerates accordingly, green flashes light up in Thalera's sanguine spheres and she anxiously pinches at ear between leather-glove sheathed fingers.
 
Objective 4
Post 5

In a Mandalorian ship, the young Amaya Verd wanted to know the truth. She had been informed by some Naboo estate, that her mother had left things to her. Her mother? Her mother was dead as far as she knew, she died on Taris and if that woman wasn't her mother then there was a lot of explaining to do and all she had was [member="Ashin Karrde"]'s information. Tracking her hadn't been easy either it had taken her far from Onderon, far from the home she was building with her father's people. Her father, Isley Verd - she knew so little of him as well and when this happened. Amaya had questions and she was going to get those answered, today and when she got them then she would be on her way home back to Onderon. The mantis vessel jerked forward as it came into realspace, and the young Verd's vessel began to screech and scream with gravimetric sensors yelling at her to get out of here but not before she contacted this woman. Feth it all, she hit the communications channel, "this is HVS Auli'i to the... Shamballa, my name is Amaya Verd and I seek Ashin Karrde, now."
 
"Clearly I do not have gold or silver tucked in my pages. I'm sure you would have pilfered it by now if there was...So, tell me, what will it take for you to ferry yours truly to the cradle of civilization?"

Malok folded his arms. His dominant hand rose and began to stroke the tuft of his facial hair. It was not everyday that one had an opportunity to barter with an ancient book...so maybe there would be something of value he could shake out of it. If the Behemoth had ample sums of time, he might have come up with something creative. Perhaps he would have asked for a cache of Tund assets. Something of physical and financial value. But, the first thing that came to mind was a result of the start of their "conversation."

"I want to know how you knew everything about me."

"What? That's easy, your mind was practically an open book. Anyone with basic telepathy could glean that much." Senda began. "And by that same token you're lucky I'm not strong enough to make you take me to Coruscant. If I was in the flesh, by the First I'-"

"Wait. You can control minds?"

"Can I Control minds?" Senda huffed as if the question was of immense offense. "I am the First Apprentice. I can do more than just control minds. I can make you see butterflies and dragons for months if I so chose."

The martial possibilities began to race through Malok's mind.

"I'll take you to Coruscant if you teach me. Every trick you know."

Senda huffed.

8
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
Objective 4
Post 4
[member="Amaya Verd"]

"Helm, where are we in relation to the midpoint?"

"Four minutes."

The midpoint was where gravity would start working against them, stealing the kinetic energy they'd accumulated in their dive. It was also the point at which collision and static discharge posed the greatest danger.

"Captain, we're getting a hail. There's another ship in here. They've just emerged from hyperspace."

"This is HVS Auli'i to the... Shamballa, my name is Amaya Verd and I seek Ashin Karrde, now."

Ashin's head tilted just so. She searched for possibilities and came up blank. Despite the turbulence, she stood from her chair and folded her arms in thought, exchanging baffled glances with her bridge crew. "Captain Verd, this is Captain Karrde. Who are you, and why is a Mandalorian ship looking to talk to me in the middle of a gravimetric distortion? How closely can you match our trajectory and velocity to get out of this safely?"
 
Objective Two​
Post Three​
8oScl4Z.png
There were those within the Order that would seek to fulfill the word of the Supreme Leader to the letter. Cleansing the surface of those dissidents in the hope of preparing this world for the coming of the Imperial Truth. While he could see the merit in such deeds, and had done that before when his oaths were sworn to another banner, this time, Amit believed that a tender touch was needed, rather than an iron fist. He would act as the foil for his estranged brothers and sisters, saving those souls that he could whilst they slew those that were caught in the festering web of lawlessness.

As such, the former Imperial Knight had sought to do more than act in opposition of his kindred; he had chosen to become a symbol of the Supreme Leader’s mercy. His open hand. Thus, adorned in the ivory threads of ancient Imperial Missionaries and marked by the Crimson fanged maw of the First Order, would be the salvation these benighted souls never asked for. He would save them from themselves, and with the blessing of his Imperial Majesty - return the world of Faldos into the illumination of Imperialism.

With such a thought coming to the fore of his mind, Amit smiled. Let the Knights of Ren be the scalpel that excises the very cancer eating away at the heart of their civilization, He mused. For I shall be the Surgeon, telling my patient that they shall be alright.

And with my opened hand, guide them into a brighter future.
 

Hansen

OOC Writer Account

Agent Totallex
Faldos Surface, Overlooking Open-Air Hanger.
Objective: 1
Post: 1


Jaina's left-eye tightens shut still and presses sniper-rifle into left shoulder even tighter, laying on a scaffold overlooking an open-air hanger, keeping it between a set of lime crosshairs and there appears her prey; Some oblivious human smuggler dragging along a repulsor crate filled with T-7 Ion Disruptors. Oh this would be fun! Jaina had been brought in with the rest of skull unit to this backwater berg to finish the job started by their infiltration units. Jaina's crosshairs shift over towards the Ion Disruptors and sight a glistening charged power-pack in one of the weapons. Jaina's tongue wops at her keen lips before her teeth break out into a toothy grin. "Oh please, have the hired help load the Ion Disruptors onto that freighter" And surely enough the pirates and smugglers begin doing exactly that, leaving the repulsor crate leaning up against one of the Freighter's landing feet. Jaina's finger tightens around the trigger of her DLT-19x steadily inhaling and exhaling, 'wheeze' followed by 'rasp' The sights drop on their intended target with two pirates clasping at a single rifle. Jaina's index finger eases the trigger back against rifle's receiver, a whistle fizzles through the air and the bolt slams straight through the man's back, out through his stomach and masterfully strikes the powerpack. Sending the T-7 Ion Disruptors up in a beautiful explosive chain reaction, the glare forces even Jaina with her polychromatic visor to spare a glance away over to her right with a scowl. "This is Skull-three to all Skull callsigns, breach, breach, breach." And with that, the other three cloaked members of the skulls dart to the edge of the circular hanger from the roof and leap down with their boots meeting the wall, with the pirates dazed and struggling to rise to their feet. "Don't think so." The DLT-19x vents its heat with a wheez and stream of steam shooting out of the stamped barrel. The Pirate raised his blaster towards one of the rappel lines only for his head to be thrown down against the pavement with a carefully green lance whistling straight through his helmet, Jaina's hand skillfully pulls back the vent's release on the side of rifle. "I love my job." She cackles sadistically with pursed lips to herself within the confines of the helmet. The hanger is bathed in a hail of red lasers as Gallows, Tek and Mairon unleash on the survivors scrambling around the freighter, many fleeing towards the exit only to be gunned down ruthlessly by the First Order's Shadowtroopers.
 
"Do you know how long it took me to master these techniques? Even if I did succumb to this ludicrous request, we wouldn't have time. Even if you were a prodigy. By the gods, you're asking too much."

"If not for me you'd still be stuck underground on Tund. You're lucky it was me that grabbed you and not one of those zealous burn-everything-Force-related folks."

"What, is the Force being persecuted now?"

"Sith ruled the Galaxy for a good while, it's going to spawn some hatred."

"Indeed...You're not going to budge on this are you?"

"Not a chance."

Senda groaned...to the point where it's pages flapped in protest.

"What if I taught you the Basics and left you the means to continue on your own. Then will you take me?"

"Now there's something I can work with."

9
 

Progflaw99

Well-Known Member
Anoth Sector, Anoth
Approaching the planetary body
Status: Prep for Launch
Post (4)
A familiar voice chirped over the comms. Ah, Pavanos. A Lieutenant if he remembered correctly, at least on paper. This time around, she'd been given her own squadron, no doubt a test of her abilities. Her personnel file was rife with infractions but time and time again she'd proven she knew how to work a stick. The woman's comment brought a smirk to his face. She had a point. Those shuttles were slow, and good luck shaking an enemy fighter - arguably that's why they had a rearward facing defense laser but even then - it wasn't a position any pilot liked being in.

:: Sure does - These TIE Defenders are quite the upgrade. ::
With a quick flip of a switch, Nils began to button down the hatches and ignite the signature ion engines of the infamous TIE fighters. As if on cue, a message blinked on the pilot's HUD as well as over the PA Systems in the hangar.

"Arrival in 2 Minutes. Prepare for Launch. Arrival in 2 Minutes."
And with that, the hangar lighting flashed to a bright red hue, alarms began signalling - preparing the hangar crews for the ship's arrival.



[member="Daska Tess"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"] | [member="Pierce Fortan III"] | [member="Sara Lee Jones"]
 
Objective 1: Make'em An Offer
Post 6

ec5e510da1aed7f294c46c7436d1f772.png


Sal wasn't the kinda guy who got upset but this blue guy had been eggin' him. He'd been under the FOSB agent's thumb for quite awhile and well, "I bet you do with your Sor Yusan boys in their uniforms. I'll get there don't you worry about it, try to remember just who I am."

"I believe you have the assumption that one of your kin will come to your aid, have you forgotten what a womp rat you are? Nevertheless I am here, and you are not." Orentho cut the channel and proceeded to the meet up point.

Tipping his hat, Sal's whiskers moved a bit he looked down at the revolver in his hand, "boy if I had a cred for every time." Seething in a breath, the scoundrel shifted his feet as the truck jolted one way and jolted another. They were riding down the back alley of one the many Faldos routes, it was here he had called home for quite some time and he helped the FOSB agent every now and then but on days like this he wished he could just zap that man's face. Unfortunately, unlike his daddy Kaine, Sal had no actual force abilities just the advantage of being an ever imposing Epicanthix. Eventually the truck arrived and he climbed out the back, "hope you didn't lose a shade of blue while waitin' ol' man."

"You're certainly one to talk, come along Mr. Zambrano we have work to do."
 
Objective 4
Post1
[member="Mishel Ren"]


“Turn the music off and sit still.” The blonde knight commanded, enough anger in her voice to suggest she wasn’t far from telekinetically crushing the music player and ending its sound forever.

Zmej Ren liked music. That did not mean she enjoyed what her ears have been forced to listen – a diehard fan of classical pieces, the knight suffered immensely when exposed to something that sounded like it crawled from the seediest pubs and clubs in the galaxy. No wonder. The dreaded sound came from Ara’s music player, proving the brunette’s taste in music equally terrible to her care free lifestyle. Zmej’s brows furrowed, mind enraged and begging for their destination to come soon. Sulphur yellow eyes burning with shackled fury silently addressed others aboard the shuttle, some faces she liked more than others. It wasn’t hard to understand why – the knight valued discipline, order and obedience above all else, letting those values control every aspect of her lifestyle.

Eventually shifting to Mishel’s cybernetic hand, Zmej’s dark side hued orbs stopped and studied the replacement. It looked almost like a mere toy, but she knew better that to misjudge such a powerful tool. Knowing exactly how Mishel lost her real hand brought back memories and Zmej only hoped the brunette saw it as a sign she should train harder.

“How about a blaster instead?” proposed the pale knight, “Lightsabers are limiting if attached directly to the limb.”
 
Objective 4
Post 7

Amaya suddenly wondered if her basic was off, she knew she had an accent thanks to Taris. "Amaya Verd of Clan Verd from Onderon. I'm here because of the Cardei Estate, members of their rather overly posh lawyers arrived at Onderon to inform me that my mother Ajira Cardei had left me quite a few items of her estate." The girl wasn't going to hold back on it now, "and last I recall my mother was a Corellian woman who raised me on Taris and that is where she died before sending me off with an axe and a bloody story about how great my father Isley Verd was."

As to Captain Karrde's other question, "you find yourself in luck, living on Taris has taught me quite a few tricks so I'll do what I can. Sensor readings are going insane on my end, is this what you do for a living? Chase after distortions praying they don't rip you to shreds?" A rather questionable career but then she hadn't much room to speak when she stood there wearing the light, bantha-leather studded armor of House Verd with an axe and blade strapped to her back.

[member="[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Ashin[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode'] Karrde"]
 
For an instant, the time went silent. The azure light dimmed ever so slightly. Malok lofted a brow inquisitively at this, thinking that maybe Senda was about to back out on their deal. Yet, just as he entertained the thought, a putrid stench reached his nostrils. The Behemoth recoiled in surprised, covering his nose with the palm of his hand. "What the..." he began, eyeing the book. What he saw was smoke. Not enough to denote the tome's complete destruction, but easily enough to identify intense heat coming within. With eyes slightly widened, Malok watched as the tome smoked for several seconds.

"There, the back half of the deal is done."

The silence was broken and the time lazily made its way over, its light now restored. "You'll find several freshly written pages. Tear them out, GENTLY please. They are yours. They will guide you. After that...I suggest you make yourself comfortable, because what I'm going to show you is going to cause the worst migraine of your life."

Little did Malok know that Senda was speaking literally. Of course, the Behemoth did as he was bid. He slowly flipped through the dusty pages until the stench multiplied many fold. There, before his eyes were ancient pages adorned with blue text, as if someone had written with azure fire. As gently and slowly as possibly, the Ma'alkerrite set about removing each of the pages until he had a neat stack within his grasp. "Thank the gods you didn't break my spine...Now sit down. I'm about to get invasive."

10
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
Objective 4
Post 5
Amaya Verd

Old memories, soft-edged from a couple of body swaps, gave her a good bit of insight on things Mandalorian. HVS designated 'House Verd Ship,' if she remembered right. She couldn't recall a direct translation for Auli'i, though, nor remember exactly how the Verd clan had sprawled. This could be anyone from the clan chief's daughter to a distant cousin to an honorary member. Best not to offend them.

Especially if the daughter that Ajira Cardei had given up for adoption decades back was the woman on the other end of the comm. When Ashin had taken her cousin Ajira's body, identity, and career, she'd had to rely on memory and personal records to fit into Ajira's life, and neither one had been totally reliable. Well, feth.

"I believe my genetic donor had Cardé as a middle name, but that might be the extent of my useful knowledge." Ashin glanced at the helm console, squinting. "Captain Verd, we're transmitting our navigational information to you now. Accelerate and line up as best you can before we reach the midpoint in the next two minutes. That'll go a long way toward keeping you safe. As soon as we complete our pass, we'll take up a high orbit around the Anoth triad to run systems maintenance and collate data. We'll be deploying our shuttles for a visual and sensor sweep of our outer hull, so for a few hours there'll be plenty of space in our hangar bay. Come aboard then and you and I can talk in private."

Her eyes tightened as another static discharge flared blue across her viewscreen.

"Shields down to fifty-eight percent, ma'am."

"Captain Verd, if you can manage it, get close behind us. Our broader profile should shield you from the discharges."
 

Progflaw99

Well-Known Member
Location: Open Air Market, Faldos
Objective: 4, Escape the Market
Post: (5)

His footsteps had taken the armored Mandalorian towards the man's booth - at least until the proprietor had seen him coming. There had been a moment there, shared between the two, the locking of eyes, or at least of visor and eye. And then he'd darted. The man who'd been so jovially standing behind the small table laden with weapons had suddenly stiffened, then ducked, darting through the small tent-like opening in the rear - it took Buruk only a second to respond.

In an instant, he'd lunged forward, jumping into the air while simultaneously activating the small jetpack attached to his backplate. Don't bother running... You'll only die tired.

As the Mandalorian jumped into the air, propelled by the jetpack, he scanned his HUD, the figure of the running shop owner tagged - identified as Dolan Gooby. Buruk's system would run the name and face to pull the file but all the details were of little concern given the moment. Nimbly adjusting his course, the Mandalorian swore under his breath as a blaster bolt shot over his left shoulder. It seems the prey has teeth. This will be fun.

Buruk loved the hunt, especially when it was dangerous. An adrenaline junky of sorts. Drawing his own blaster, he returned fire - though in truth it was more of a distraction as he quickly gained on the man.
 

Hansen

OOC Writer Account

Halle Ren,
Faldos Surface, Bar.
Objective: 2
Post: 1

Halle pushes apart the bar's swivel doors with a cloak shrouding the details of her armour, she walks towards the barkeep with arms concealed up into her robes. Right-hand clutching at Anariel, Spire of Light; An ancient Lightsaber that the Disciple of Ren had corrupted and twisted for her own devices. With an F-11D Blaster concealed in a holster, the foreboding black robed figure strides forth only to halt in front of the bar with head bowed. And arms crossed together beneath the fine Fabric. Halle hears the man's query and even a movement from him to clasp at a weapon erroneously concluding the woman might be a Sith. "Why yes you can help me. I came here to kill eleven people, just eleven. Eleven Gentlemen from Baava, now you can either point them out in the bar to me right now. All you can all die together." Halle throws the robe off of her shoulders, and her thumb slides over Anariel's ignition, with a startled scream the blade shoots out from the hilt a frightening crimson and the Disciple holds it up beside head, over shoulder ears hear tables flip and the overweight bartender brandishes his slugthrower, with a single twirl over the shoulder with saber clutched firmly in both hands, a bright yellow line crosses the man's throat and he falls to the floor separated into two pieces. Halle's sulfuric yellow eyes find the criminal scum, there would be more elsewhere. But these ones she knew are here within the bar, she snarls and lurches towards them brandishing Anariel, she allows the blaster bolts to strike her abdomen and breastplate, soliciting a growl from the disciple whose foot finds the corner of the flipped table, launching herself up into the air. Another swing and two men fall with a straight glowing orange burn across their torsos preceded by a short masculine cry of Agony. Halle pivots around to be faced with a slugthrower, with a brief moment of focus she thrusts her hand towards the man who starts clasping desperately at his own throat. Halle's eyes dart around, though, and more men draw weapons....This was a bad decision. Some insult or threat is hurled towards the Disciple, the men demand Halle release their comrade from her 'witchcraft' on the pretence she was one of the Sith Order. "I'm no Sith, I'm much. Worse!" Halle growls, releasing her captive with a sneer.
 
Objective Two​
Post Four​
8oScl4Z.png
With the preparations made and his soul shrouded in aetheric iron, Amit began to slowly move towards the aft section of the vessel - the very place that he had boarded it hours before. His hands probed through the darkness, rapping against the fluted spinal corridor so that he could see without truly seeing. As he clutched to the bulkheads, an unbidden memory came rushing back into his thoughts. It was of his days in a bygone era, now long forgotten, when he had trained a youthful aspirant named Trystan.

They had been training with practice blades that day, and the boy’s eyes were shrouded by a thick coil of cloth. He was deprived of his sight to deepen his connection, to bond himself with the light of Ashla so that the ever present energy coursing through his veins would compensate him whenever an outside force had sought to deny the boy of his senses. He had told him that trusting his eyes was folly, for they sought only to deceive him when believing in his proverbial third eye would immerse him in nothing but the truth that laid just beyond the skeins of reality.

Amit’s smile widened on seeing the youthful Trystan’s face once more, then swiftly soured as the questions of his fate began to settle in its place. He would’ve fallen prey to the Plague centuries ago, the Disciple told himself. All the Rennite could hope for, was that his passing was swift and that when he reached Harmony’s gates - they would permit him entry. Forcibly pushing the dour thought from his mind, the Blind Warrior had fanned his fingers across the aft crash bar and waited patiently for the vessel to make its descent towards the surface of the wild world beneath.
 

Mishel Kryze

Guest
Objective 4
Post 8

Mishel pouted and took her seat and looked at [member="Zmej Ren"]. "You are exactly why everyone assumes we're Sith or Sithlings as Cousin Elpsis explained so elo-quen-tly." She hoped she said that right, Mishel had been taking speech and vocabulary lessons with brother [member="Castor Ren"]. They, in fact, had a new brother @Amit Nykoan or so she had been told, she had yet to meet brother Amit herself. The vat-grown Ren screwed her hand back on and sighed. "Blaster?"

"I don't know if I'd like that to be honest, I mean these are great," she showed the knuckled plated gauntlet off. "Sister Zmej do you believe I can upgrade my lightsaber. I've been meaning to put a lava crystal in mine, ever since I read the holo guide to crystals by this Jedi... Merrill, Jorus or something." The music box continued to play but Mishel plugged in a set of ear buds so the music would not disturb Zmej and her anger. It was like her superpower. Mishel had gotten awfully chatty these days and when she was quiet it meant she was off sneaking around the Bastion or doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing, much like a child.
 
Objective 4
Post 9

Feth. Amaya cut the comms channel and turned to the wall and punched it, repeatedly. Grunting she flipped the communications channel back on as she looked at her bloody knuckles and watched as her systems beeped with the information. "Received, Captain Karrde. Matching your trajectory and velocity in three, two-" the Mantis shook violently the gravimetric distortions threatened the freighter who was not built to withstand its power. Running down to engineering, Amaya grabbed a datapad where she implemented a mobile command to the flight controls. Initiating two droids to run up in her stead as she got down to engineering. "KARKING FETH!" She shouted, "got a small problem Karrde, that last distortion busted out my impulse control, thrusters are going too."

Another pocket hit.

Cords and tubes jerked out of their placement, Amaya dodged one of them but took the hit of a cord to her armor. Biting down on her lip the young Verd ducked underneath wiring to reroute power. "Power being rerouted," grabbing her datapad she issued her commands, "not sure how long this will hold but we should be matchi- uh, two minutes you said? Yeah the Auli'i may not hold that long but I pray that she does, if not - then it looks like I'll be buying another. And yes, I'd like to have that private conversation."

[member="Ashin Karrde"]
 
Faldos
Objective 4
Post 1

Cameron's expression was flat as his bright gaze held the gaze of the equally tall Whiphid before him. "The agreed upon price was seventy thousand."

"That was before I had rival interest, of course. You know how these things go. Supply and dem---"

The Sith Lord's gazed flashed in anger from beneath the hood of his dark blue and gray cloak just as his left fist clenched within the folds of fabric. The Whiphid's speech rather impressive basic was cut off as Cameron seized the sentient's vocal chords and arteries in his neck with the Force. "Let me stop you right there. In a moment...you are going to agree to a twenty percent discount, bringing the price down to sixty-six simply for the aggravation you've caused me." There was no use of mind trick. Wasted effort. "Then...you're going to explain to me just how a Whiphid develops such an impressive flair for articulation in basic...on a backwater waste of life such as Faldos."

A pause.

"Are you ready?"

The Whiphid didn't move so much as continue to grab at his throat.

Sighing softly, Cameron shook his head. "Come on now. I need you to acknowledge what I've said."

More flailing.

"Seriously, I want to release you, but I need to know that we have a deal...oh..." With the utterance of the last syllable, the Whiphid collapsed on the ground from a massive, rapid onset of hypoxia. Relaxing his hidden fist, Cameron merely shrugged his shoulders. "See where being stubborn gets you." Casually, the Sith Lord stepped over the large body and grabbed the small, dusty box that had been sitting on the table behind the Whiphid. After wiping off the dust, Cameron opened the box and smiled thinly at the sight within. Turning, he initiated his departure.

The Whiphid would survive.
 

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