Someone…or something…has been biding its time – The Republic Dominion of Cyrillia

[Rexus Drath]

[member="Kian Karr"]

The psychotic bounty hunter and part time terrorist James Parker was doing a job here at the old factory. He was a very experienced bomb maker and he had spent years making them, so he had rented out his murderous prowess out to the underworld folks here. Sitting down in a break room of the old factory, James was cleaning a Outlaw shotgun putting on the final touches. He was here with a acquaintance from his days with the Horde, a little HRD by the name of [member="Break"], he was here somewhere and the two of them were supposed to be having a chat.

Finishing up the madman who was high on neutron pixie and booster blue began to load up the shotgun with four rounds of buck shot, three solid slugs, and two pack o punch shells. Afterwards strapped it to his belt and checked the CW-77 pistol that was attached to his robotic arm. Clicking it together he smiled and then picked up his plasma projector. He was about to start cleaning it but his spice enhanced mind heard a struggle coming from the next room. Standing up the force dead mercenary grabbed two particle and ray shield grenades then stuffed them in his pockets before he opened the door, walked down the hallway and opened up the second door. That's when he saw it through his ARC contacts, a man standing over a few unconscious guards. He narrowed his eyes on the figure and once he saw his face the holo connected contacts went to work.

There was a bounty on this bloke, republic personnel. James' eyes widened and the mad man laughed as he raised his plasma projector.

"HEY UGLY!!" He said then laughed again like a maniac.

With a stream of mad laughter white hot plasma shot out of the mouth of the plasma thrower in a stream of about forty meters aimed right at the Jedi.

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/45494-25-17-ezek-plasma-projector/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/53283-augmented-reality-contact-arc/#entry800179
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/53092-cw-77/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/52369-the-outlaw-shotgun/

 

[Break]

Kian Karr

Months had passed since the HRD had last resurfaced. A long hiatus caused by a mixture of hardware damage and self inflicted hatred following the downfall of his compatriots.
He walked his path silently letting the speed of his gate and light footsteps utter no sound as he passed through the corridor. Behind him two unconscious guards that once blocked his path lay back to back a light snoring could be heard if one were close enough.
The red HUD gave everything a slightly crimson tint. Quickly he heard the sounds of plasma being fired down the hallway followed by maniacal laughter. "It would seem my associate has beaten me to the punch..." he thought as he loaded his PRT plasma canon. The slight hum of the machine as it warmed up and charged the plasma for a larger shot made what was left of his humanity cringe. He disliked violence but it had to be done.

"[member="James M Parker"] it seems you started a bit early for me."

He said into the comm in his helmet sensors picked up that he was firing at another person but as to who it was he was not sure who or what it was and he wasn't about to go in blind.

"James....who is the current target?"
He said as the charged shot came close to being at full power.

 

[Corvus Raaf]

The walk to the main office was longer than Corvus expected. She was aware that Uri was behind her and as she approached the hive of the operations she stopped and indicated Uri should too. She didn't know why but her senses told her to be wary.

So she crept forward and listened at the door. There were three, no four voices and none were local. One off-worlder in the office was reasonable. Two? Pushing it. All four being from another planet? Unlikely.

'Four men, all suspected terrorists, allow me to lead.' Her instruction to Uri was simple and to the point. 'And let Kian know what we're up to first.'

She stood up and simply opened the door, a broad smile on her face. Eschewing her usual bow she offered a simple question,. "OK, which one of you is in charge?"

"What the-" one of the men offered before a second lifted a blaster and pointed it at the Jedi's chest. A split-second later, the offending weapon was in Corvus' hand - and she held it between thumb and forefinger with disdain. "Right, for the second and final time, who is in charge?"

[member="Kian Karr"] | [member="Uri Aureleos"]

 

[Uri Aureleos]

Uri held no objections and followed her command with out question. He trusted her judgment more than he did his own. Uri stood back a bit and pull the com out of his pocket, "No sign of the techs yet. We'll let you know if we see them. Also we've located four suspected terrorist. We're preparing to engage now."

As Uri finished the transmission to Master Karr, Master Corvus had already made her way into the room and had the blaster dangling from her fingers. Uri made his way to the door and peaked his head in as they stammered and pointed to each other. Uri raised an eyebrow as none of them pointed to the same person. In his mind, it was a simple question. His master spoke clear basic and loud enough for them to understand. Uri's hand reached up covering his eyes then sliding down his face. The only thought going through his mind was whether they were actually petrified of her or if they were making a joke out of his master question.

[member="Corvus Raaf"] [member="Kian Karr"]

 

[Kian Karr]

Kian was about to turn his attention back to the explosive when he heard the crazed laugh and turned to see a figure raising what appeared to be a flamethrower. If the force weren't acting so strange, Kian would have simple crushed the barrel under a force grip that would rupture the weapon in the man's hand.....but the force wasn't behaving right and Kian wasn't about to test it. Kian dove to the side to avoid the stream of plasma coming at him and scooped up the blaster pistol that one of the unconscious terrorist was carrying. Kian's only hope was to get to cover.

Kian threw his arm out as he ran for the crates he had originally come out from behind and began to spray a series of blaster bolts at the attacker. Kian didn't take the time to aim, but rather focused on the general area of the man. If he hit him, very well, if he didn't hopefully he would force the man to take cover and by Kian some well needed time. Kian could feel the heat just behind him. Once he was close enough, Kian stopped firing and dove behind the stacked, metal storage crates for cover.

"I don't suppose you'd like to surrender yourself into my custody!" Kian yelled out from behind the crates, his deep Kel Dor voice muffled by the antiox mask he wore. Thumbing the switch on the blaster to stun, Kian stood up with his back facing the crates and began to scan the area, he had only seen one attack....but there might be more.

Then suddenly he heard Uri over the comms.

"Uri, Corvus. I'm afraid I'm not going to be much help.....I seem to have bumped into a rather well armed individual." Kian said shaking his head and smiling. Kian glanced down at the simple blaster in his hand. One thing was certain, the attacker wasn't a terrorist. They were a rag tag operation. They weren't the type of organization to have access to the higher tech weapons that this man seemed to be bringing to bear and it just didn't seem right. Kian had learned a long time ago to trust his gut.

[member="James M Parker"] | [member="Break"] | [member="Uri Aureleos"] | [member="Corvus Raaf"]​

 

[Gir Quee]

Stormfire-class Assault Frigate Audacious, Cyrillia system

"Commander Sned's got tech's crawling all over the crybaby, but they haven't found anything yet," reported his comm's officer.

Commodore Quee nodded and turned back to his own screen. He began selecting and highlighting various facets of the sensor readouts from the Boreas. The tubular corvette had taken up the position where the crybaby had been found and then had hauled it onboard for inspection after initial scans had cleared it from being a threat to the Boreas or her crew. If Gir had made the crybaby, it probably would have also had a proximity sensor wired up to an explosive to at least detonate any evidence, if not to harm the investigating vessel. He shook those thoughts from his head as he noticed an unusual spike of radiation in the sensor readouts. Lieutenant Herson wandered up from behind him and abruptly stopped.

"There a problem, Herson?" questioned Gir, looking up from his screen.

"Well, no sir. I was just talking with Commander Sned. His tech crews say that the crybaby is made out of a bunch of droid parts, mostly a R-8009 Utility droid, but the shell was a P-100."

Herson stared expectantly at the Commodore, but Gir couldn't pull up anything in his head about those alpha-numerical designations. The man from Hast merely shook his head and looked back up at Herson.

"I'm not familiar with either of those models..."

"Some of Serv-o-droid's most popular models," replied Herson, "and what's it more interesting is that there was a still active droid inside."

Gir frowned, "Another droid?"

"Apparently it had a gatekeeper droid housed inside of it. They found the thing when they cracked open the chassis of the crybaby. Sned thinks that they stopped it from reporting much though...hopefully..."

The Commodore quietly cursed. So that's why it didn't self-destruct. They want to know more about the decoy's pursuers, which is interesting in and of itself...The man shook his head.

"Well, if they find anything else about it, let me know...I think we may have found the route that the crybaby's ship originated from..."

 

[Rexus Drath]

[member="Kian Karr"] [member="Break"]

"ONLY IF IT INVOLVES YOUR HEAD IN A SACK!!" James shouted back to the man who had dove behind cover to dodge his attack from the plasma thrower.

Letting out another maniac laugh James screamed at the top of his lungs and cackled throwing his head back. It was safe to say he was having fun with this little Jedi. As he continued to step forward blazed out of his mind on neutron pixie and booster blue, two forms of spice when mixed together gaze the user considerable reflexes and concentration. He saw the first few blaster bolts headed towards him a few splashed off the ground missing but the last one he simply dodged as everything seemed to be in slow motion for him, the drugs enhancing his perception and reflexes.

"COME OUT LITTLE JEDI!! I'M GONNA SKIN YOU AND WEAR YOU WHEN I COLLECT YOUR BOUNTY!!" Parker let out another whooping laugh and stepped forward again gaining ground on the Jedi.

With his mind sharpened he saw the Jedi pop and shake the crates when he moved up. Taking the plasma thrower that had about half a tank left he aimed it at the crates the Jedi had been taking cover behind and with a large woosh of molten plasma turned up the heat on the man's position. Whoever this Jedi was, he picked the wrong factory.

 

[Break]

The Jedi and outlaw seemed to be to preoccupied to notice Break... he liked that. Break took his time lining up his shot. The plasma canon ready to fire whirring as he raised his arm into place from the shadows not a soul would see or hear him.

...But if things got sticky he had a plethora of semtex grenades EMP and plenty of canisters for the Canon

[member="James M Parker"] [member="Kian Karr"]

 

[Ryan]

Location: Space
Objective: Waiting for orders

Wovoka Vos was late to the show, exiting hyperspace in his assigned starfighter. He did not recieve much information over the holocom just mostly arrive at Cyrillia and aid where needed. So this is where he was, his dark sullen volcanic brown eyes scanning the cockpit instruments and more specifically his scanners. IFFs of republic fleet were picked up and he quickly relayed his codes to make sure he was not accosted as he made his way towards the planet.

The Kiffar halfbreed would press a few buttons here and there and then activate holcoms to broadcast his arrival and inquire where he was needed "This is Padawan Vos, apology for the late arrival" His deep toned ysanna accent resonated through the coms "Where am I needed?"

The padawan would wait for further orders for deployment.

 

[H3xle]

Objective 1

Dair had yet to be taken as a formal padawan by any master, though because of the pressures on the Order, he was granted the status of Padawan Pending. With such a status he was loaned a lightsaber from the training cadre on Ossus and trained in classes with both younglings and other Padawans. When the word arrived on Ossus for the liberation of Cyrillia, he joined up. He hoped that his actions would allow him to gain a Master, or at least some extra training. However, he had been stuck on the flagship when other Jedi and their Padawan had gone to the surface. Ostensibly, he was part of a back up force for the Jedi forces below, but he feared that he would merely be an observer. Nonetheless, he kept his calm and stood on the bridge, out of the way of any of the servicemen, waiting patiently for his chance to help.

Word passed up through some channel, Dair hadn't been paying attention to the communications officer, instead watching the lone ship facing Republic forces through the forward screen. The word passed up was that a factory had been found and help could be used in clearing it of enemy forces. As soon as he heard the message, Dair left the bridge and made his way through the ship to the troop bay where he boarded the next dropship heading for the area near Master [member="Kian Karr"] and Master [member="Corvus Raaf"].

From the landing area Dair had to hike a few miles to the factory in question, as he was a reserve force he wanted to come in silently, so he focused more on stealth than speed. Once he arrived outside the factory, he knew that he had done well, as no one had come out to stop him. With a deep breath, Dair stepped inside slowly and began to look around for the Masters and other Jedi.

"COME OUT LITTLE JEDI!! I'M GONNA SKIN YOU AND WEAR YOU WHEN I COLLECT YOUR BOUNTY!!" Parker let out another whooping laugh and stepped forward again gaining ground on the Jedi. With his mind sharpened he saw the Jedi pop and shake the crates when he moved up. Taking the plasma thrower that had about half a tank left he aimed it at the crates the Jedi had been taking cover behind and with a large woosh of molten plasma turned up the heat on the man's position. Whoever this Jedi was, he picked the wrong factory.

Dair heard the shouted message and instantly grabbed his lightsaber hilt, though he neglected to light it up. If he hadn't been seen yet, then he might be able to help with some surprise. His mind went back to his time as a slave, where being noticed was always a bad thing. He let the emotions that such thoughts always brought up and took a deep breath. He let the memory fuel his need to not be seen, using it as a crutch to help him blend into the Force and the shadows around him. He moved along the outer wall of the factory and spotted the back of a man who was spraying plasma at some crates and cackling. He felt fairly certain that this man, spraying plasma so wantonly, was not part of the Republic forces. If this had been the man he heard yelling, then it could be a fellow Jedi behind the boxes and that was no alright in Dair's book. He took a step out of the shadows, shedding the mindset of a slave hiding and resuming the mindspace that he had been working on since he arrived on Ossus, that of the gallant knight standing between darkness and those who could not protect themselves from it. He stood to his full height and set his broad shoulders back as he ignited his borrowed lightsaber and settled himself into the beginning stance of Shii-Cho, the fighting style taught to all Padawans and Younglings, and spoke in a large booming voice. All in all in made him look vaguely like a clean shaven viking god, the blue glow of his lightsaber tightening the stern lines of his face.

"Stand down!" two simple words, suffused with the power of his knight-like mindset and what power in the Force he could thread through it. It's echo could be heard over the burning of the plasma.

[member="Kian Karr"] | [member="James M Parker"] | @Break

 

[Rexus Drath]

[member="Kian Karr"] [member="Dair Cotarin"] [member="Break"]

Parker still laughing like the crazed maniac that he was continued to throw plasma at the crates the Jedi master was hidden behind. He was going to burn him alive, he thought of so many vile ways to kill the man and how to make him suffer before taking his final breath.

"HOWS IT FEEL JEDI!! DIE DIE DIE DIIIIEEEEEE!!!" Parker screamed loudly and for a moment he reached down unplugged the tank and quickly loaded in a new tank in one swift motion as the fire remained blazing.

But another foe had entered the arena it seemed. Another Jedi it seemed and he looked like he belonged at some convention somewhere cosplaying. Parker didn't give him a chance, hell he didn't want to. He was just going to shoot him. So gripping the plasma thrower with one organic arm he kept it leveled and roaring at the Jedi's position where it remained on, however his attention was now focused on his new opponent.

Aiming his body so his sides faced both targets Parker cocked his head to the where the Jedi padawan stood with his loud voice. And with robotic arm a device quickly popped out and a nine millimeter hidden pistol exploded out of his robotic arm and began to bark rounds towards the young Jedi's head and chest.

"ASK JORUS MERRILL WHO I AM!!!" He screamed again, not laughed but a high pitched war scream that showed many spice rotted teeth and gums.

 

[H3xle]

Objective 1

Aiming his body so his sides faced both targets Parker cocked his head to the where the Jedi padawan stood with his loud voice. And with robotic arm a device quickly popped out and a nine millimeter hidden pistol exploded out of his robotic arm and began to bark rounds towards the young Jedi's head and chest. "ASK JORUS MERRILL WHO I AM!!!" He screamed again, not laughed but a high pitched war scream that showed many spice rotted teeth and gums.

Dair didn't have brain space to banter. He fell deeply into the Force and didn't even need to try to remember the hours training in Shii-Cho to start placing his saber's blade between himself and the bullets. His face showed only determination as he maintained his stance, focusing on keeping his movements smooth and minimal. However, training droids usually used blasters whose bolts moved significantly faster than the nine millimeter slugs that were now flying at him. His senses, through the Force, told him to move and he followed the suggestion a moment to soon, and he felt a tug on his right bicep as another bullet scored a glancing hit.

Ignoring it for the moment, Dair stepped sideways to the left a few steps while keeping his blade sweeping the air between him and the gun. A moment later he had a durasteel pylon between himself and the gunman. He stopped behind the pylon and focused. He used what little he knew of telekinesis and moved a box from behind him back the way he came while he threw himself into a roll to the left. He managed to get behind a second pylon and around it before coming completely back into view of [member="James M Parker"], assuming his Shii-Cho stance once more. He hoped that having to fire two things on an angle that was neither ninety degrees nor one hundred eighty degrees from each other would prove troublesome for the attacker.

[member="James M Parker"] | [member="Kian Karr"] | [member="Break"]

 

[Rexus Drath]

[member="Break"] [member="Kian Karr"] [member="Dair Cotarin"]

The crazed man high on booster blue focused in on the Jedi who was moving and decided to attack the most immediate threat. Which was this little Jedi worming his way around his back flank so his arms couldn't bend and hit targets. So he would have to shift and refocus on a new target, if he kept this up he'd be picked off in a matter of moments. So it was time to break and reengage.

"KARK YOU JEDI SCUM!! DIE!!" Parker screamed again and broke off the stream of burning hot plasma on the crate he had pinned the Jedi master down at.

Now it was time to reengage this foe while keeping a mindful eye of the one he let free. Shifting his body he came into a angle where he could keep his peripheral vision on the crates but his majority line of sight on the Jedi who had taken cover behind the pylon. With a few sparks of flames the plasma thrower ignited again and roared a stream of burning hot liquid metal at the boy. He intended to cook him alive in his robes, and it the heat was about to be turned up.

"BURN queen BURN!!" The crazy man yelled and made sure to watch his flank. He didn't want to be ambushed from behind. Where the hell was that stupid little droid anyway?

 

[Break]

Break had been disturbed enough to notice the new foe. A padawan by the looks...perhaps a new padawan at that. Quickly he changed targets setting his targeting systems on the padawan and loosed the charged shot at full power. The plasma orb tore through the air as the yellow light of the plasma released its vast heat. This thing was roughly softball sized with the speed of a bullet and no padawan was going to easily dodge this shot. He smiled as he reached for his side arm. , the nexu rifle. In the HRD's grasp it was light as a feather and easily wielded in a single hand keeping his distance was his only concern at this point. Sure he had some blade training but going toe to toe against a master and padawan. .. that's asking for trouble. No instead he would anticipate the padawan to dodge and prepared another charged shot. At the moment it was at roughly half power.
[member="James M Parker"] [member="Dair Cotarin"] [member="Kian Karr"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Stormfire-class Assault Frigate Audacious, Cyrillia System

“Yes Herson?”

“We've got a confirmed destination from their ion trail,” informed Lieutenant Herson, “and it looks like it's headed to a staging area.”

“Show me,” said the commodore, strolling up to the other man's station.

The lanky man tapped several keys, causing a miniature holo-projector built into his station to flare up. Its blue light produced a hazy image of a swirling cloud of giant rocks. Herson tapped another button, causing the projector to zoom in on one particular, rust-colored rock. It was then that Gir noticed that the asteroid had a pair of giant blast doors peeking out of a large crater. Of course...

“An asteroid base,” observed the commodore.

Herson nodded, “It actually used to be a lifesaving station with a couple of Med Runners until a group of pirates attacked it a year ago. They wiped out the rescue pilots and their support crews there, and stole the ships. The Cyrillian government never got around to performing the repairs or stationing anyone else out there. Officially it's abandoned.”

“Makes sense,” said Gir, “that'd be a tough sell to get people to stay out there. It's known to be unsafe and it's in the middle of nowhere. It could easily be a shadowport now.”

“Maybe,” supposed Herson, “but it's kind of small to be a big one. I'd wager it's an independent smuggler's hideout now.”

“Still, it's large enough that I bet that there's more ships there than the one that dropped off the crybaby.”

“So what are we going to do?” questioned the lieutenant.

Gir frowned, “Since it's that deep in the belt, we're going to need some starfighters to catch or destroy whoever's there. We'll blast our way to the base after them and board it for some more investigative work...”

The commodore turned his attention to the comm's officer.

“Go ahead and put out a call to the fleet, let's see if we can pool up some starfighters for this investigation...”

[member="Ric Ardellian"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

Objective one

Tick tock.

His blade cut through the body, a crimson shower falling on the ground.

Tick tock.

The blade impaling another with a bored look on his face as he dropped him.

Tick tock.

A scream of another that his mind touched as he looked at him with a smile.

Tick tock.

Another muttering and praying for someone to save him from the man that looked like a reaper thanks to his illusion.

Tick. Tock.

Solan gripped the last one by the throat and slammed him hard against the nearest surface as flames started to crawl over his arm and took the forms of two snakes, spiralling and getting closer to the man's face and neck as solan spoke to him with a clear and very much so annoyed and hate filled voice. Around him was the now dead bodies of four others, two cut down while the other two were broken so far by solan's empathy that their brains ceased all function. Solan's face resembled that of a skull with no flesh or muscle, his eyes miniature crimson colored orbs. "Tell me, where the main branch of your cult is, and ill let you live."

Tick tock.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Location: Vermillion Championship Podracing Rally
Objective: Don't get caught betting on the podraces Investigate Pius Dea activities on Cyrillia
Allies: [member="Nefertari Sovint"]

---

The small Nautolan darted, ducked, and dodged as he sped through the crowd like a lithe, green bullet.

The sleeveless tunic that he wore left the arms bare, dressed in leather wraps at the wrist. The hem of the long shirt rippled like a turbulent sea as his legs moved, bare feet gripping the ground with each step. A training saber dangled from the belt at his waist, as new an addition to his wardrobe as the reed-and-leather braid which hung down from one of the head-tendrils on the right side of the boy's head, denoting his status as a Jedi padawan.

Around the boy, people were cheering, jeering, shouting, and cursing as the various monitors displayed the changing face of the race unfolding on the track which extended well past this stadium. Corellian Gambit was in the lead, having overtaken The Angry Duros, with Farkled Wookiee in third.

The race wasn't why they had come here, of course. That had been for some reason that Master Sovint had tried to explain to him, twice if he recalled correctly. He hadn't listened either time. Some religious hang-up. Problem with near-humans. Even more of a problem with inhuman aliens.

See? He'd listened. Somewhat.

He'd at least gotten the CliffNotes out of it.

If they had a problem with aliens, then if anyone was going to bring out the haters it was the green kid with large black eyes and a head full of squid tentacles. Or, baby octopus tentacles anyway.

"DEFILER!"

In retrospect, coming to the podraces had been a stroke of mad genius. The industry brought a huge volume of non-humans to Cyrillia to bet on the races, making it a prime target for anyone wanting to lash out at a gathering of aliens. That hadn't actually been Zak's thought process at the time though, which is why he was doing his best to keep pace with the race.

He had five credits on Farkled Wookiee.

That was a WHOLE weeks allowance.

"UNCLEAN!"

"Hey, I took a bath!" the Nautolan fired back. Cleanliness was a sensitive topic for a young boy. And if the ranting religious nuts were going to be insenstive about it, then Zak wouldn't feel as bad when this was over.

Jumping to the side, the small youngling neatly used one foot to kick off the wall for some added height before flipping backward. The soles of his feet connected with the human man's face, as sixty pounds of amphibian slammed into him -- driving his center of balance back, as the man was felled like a great tree. Vaulting off in the moment before the man met the pavement, the youngling neatly whipped around and stretched out with the Force.

Come to think of it, had he taken a bath? "...this week," the boy mused aloud, then immediately doubted the claim. "I think."
Brandishing a length of metal pipe, a man came running out of the crowd -- rushing to the aid of the downed zealot. With a fluid gesture using both hands, the youngling both man and pipe careening through air and into the side of food cart. Which, speaking of food...

Pulling back with the Force, the Nautolan tried to grab a snack from off one of the food racks. Opening his mouth as he endeavored to Force pull it straight to his face... only to have the fried deliciousness go sailing straight by his head as he missed.

"The impure will be PURGED!"

Spinning to face this new voice, the boy put his hands as he snapped back, "Purge THIS, she'buy'ce!" And, with that, the boy tapped into the Force and let 'er rip.

...and went flying backwards as he just Force threw himself across the room.

Crashing into something solid enough to halt the progress of the world's first Nautolan rocketeer, the youngling sank to the floor in a daze as the wind was knocked out of him and stars danced in front of his eyes.

He was going to have to work on that whole feather push thing.

 

[Ryan]

Location: Factory
Objective: 1
Allies: [member="Dair Cotarin"]
Enemies: [member="Break"] [member="James M Parker"]

Entrance Theme Song​

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I9Z0KIhzydk

​

The Ysannian kiffar's fighter broke the Cyrillian atmosphere enroute to the targeted factory. Wovoka received orders that there were hostiles in needing of aggressive negotiations to help aid them to descalate their hostilities and reflect upon the errors of their ways. The tribal warrior reached for a token of his mother fashioned into a neclase that rested gently across his neck. The moment his hand touched it he felt her warmth or the precieved warmth that would have been there for the quick snippit of a fond memory zipped through his vision. He could faintly see her holding his infant form in a gentle embrace as he breast fed, his tiny fingers gripping the very necklace that was then worn around his mother's neck. The quick vision brought comfort to the young padawan who full knowingly was about to enter battle. He only lightly cursed his own handicap of limited Psychometric ability that was natural for all Kiffar but he was a half breed and it seemed such played out as his ability was limited to fuzzy incoherent images. Not near as fluent as a proper Kiffar would have.

Wovoka gently lifted the small token of his mother to his lips, gave it a soft kiss as if he was pressing his own lips to his mother's cheeks before letting the necklace rest underneath his robes and chest plate. The factory was in view and Vos already knew his plan of entry was to be. He would quickly impute a few codes into the command consol giving absolute control of the fighter to his R2 Unit "Chief". "Guide us in Chief! and hold over the rooftop at 20 feet. Once i exit the cockpit leave and find a safe place to land" He commanded the droid.

Moments later Wovoka had leaped from his starfighter's open cockpit, using the force to slow his descant to the factory's rooftop. The moment his feet hit the hard surface he would instinctively tumble to embrace the impact and avoid unnecessary injury that would otherwise have had lamed him up and put him out of action before he could even be of help.

Wovoka would complete the tumble by rolling up to his feet, keeping his body crouched and low making himself a small target. His dark sullen brown eyes would scan the immediate area for danger. His long black dread-locked mane and cloth robes would flap in the wind gusted up by his fighter's repulsors. Even over the heavy thumps of the engine above he could hear the firefight below. This was getting real now and the padawan could feel the adrenaline rising within himself. The flight or fight responses were snickering at him, as for any sane person would choose flight in the wake of weapon fire. Wovoka chose fight and would cautiously make his way to a skylight to further his visual and to ascertain where friendly and foe were positioned.

 

[Nefertari Sovint]

Location: Vermillion Championship Podracing Rally
Objective: Find the teeny Houdini who ran off
Allies: [member="Zak Dymo"]

Podracing; very fast, very dangerous. Especially when there was a kid among a bunch of drunken, raving fans. When asking somebody if they'd seen a young Nautolan Jedi, Nefertari noticed a ruckus
"There he is"
Training Zak was fun, but also had a lot of twists and turns. Approaching the crowd, the Jedi Knight reached out with the force and grabbed The Nautolan by the collar of his robe.
"You can't just run off like that, we're on a mission here! You might meet some hostile resistance, and you left before I could adjust that training saber of yours."
She lifted her padawan onto her back
"Come on, let's get that money back from the bet takers"
When she spoke to the guy who took Zak's bet, he said "Look lady; the kid placed the bet, it ain't my fault if he loses."

Nefertari waved her hand in front of him "You're feeling nice today, you want to give his money back"
"You know what? I'm feeling nice today. Here kid, don't spend it all in one place"
Zak's 5 credits had been returned, and Nef rushed out of the stadium. As they were leaving, the commentary announced that somebody had pulled ahead of the Wookie the Nautolan had bet on in the final circuit. It was over, and some poor sap would likely have less arms if they met that Wookie later.

"Look at that, Zak. You almost foolishly lost the money you have. This is why you shouldn't gamble"
They had been assigned to find out about rumors of some humanocentric cult. That way of thinking made Nef sick to her stomach, so she hoped that it was nothing more than a ghastly rumor.
"So Zak, did you find out anything about that cult while you were in there?"

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Arceneau Trade Company
Merchant Fleet


Meire La'tyr, a Bothan Captain of Arceneau Trade would hail the Republic with the following once more.


[ This is Captain Meire La'tyr hailing from the Maerys, Arceneau Trade Company Merchant fleet. We are here to provide emergency aid in whatever capacity is requested. ]