Stranded - Techno Union Dominion of Ryloth

[cheshire_kitty]

[SIZE=11pt]Location: Unknown, currently disorientated.
Post: [1/20]

Dietrich groaned as he opened his eyes, his head throbbed and he could feel dried blood on his face. ‘I guess that’s why children are taught to fasten their seat belt from a young age’ Dietrich thought to himself as he helped himself up.

“Kark!” Dietrich yelled, when he saw the shattered remnants of what was once his DataPad strewn across the ground. Annoyed, Dietrich looked through the parts, salvaging whatever he could. HHe hoped that he would be able to re-use those parts for something when the chance arises. Without technology, he was only slightly than the average civilian.

Once Dietrich had finished salvaging the remains of his DataPad, he wandered around the wreckage trying to find others were in the crash with him. Their names…their faces…Dietrich couldn’t remember, he just knew he had to find them or he might not survive too long, especially without his DataPad.[/SIZE]

 

[cheshire_kitty]

Location: Ryloth
Objective: Find and rescue General Baelor
Post: [1/20] (2)

News of a shuttle crash at Ryloth had come to Konrad’s attention. Rumor was it that General [member="Isamu Baelor"], Konrad’s superior in the One Sith military was aboard one of the shuttles that were involved in the crash. General Baelor was the crux of the One Sith’s military, his safe return was crucial to the morale of the soldiers. In his absence the soldiers’ morale had plummeted, even among Konrad’s men, this was worrying to Konrad but it also doubled as his motivation to ensure the safe return of the man.

Aside from his personal unit, ‘Die Jager’, nearly seven thousand men voluntarily joined Konrad on this search and rescue mission. It was obvious from those who had come that General Baelor was greatly loved and respected by the soldiers of the One Sith. As soon as the fleet of stardestroyers landed on the planet, the soldiers quickly disembarked and separated to cover each of the crash sites for the missing General and his men.

With the soldiers occupied with the search of the General, Konrad and his personal unit advanced upon a small Ryloth village for some souvenirs in the form of Twi’lek slaves. Konrad’s preferred plan of attack for capturing villages was a blitz attack, take the residents by surprise then force them into submission.

Under Konrad’s orders, Die Jager rushed into the village, weapons drawn to subdue the villagers. The residents put up some resistance but it was nothing the soldiers could not handle. Soon enough, the men, women and children of the village were neatly separated by the Konrad’s unit and promptly loaded into the cells of a ship.

Konrad then had half of Die Jager board the ship to ensure that the slaves arrived safely at Konrad’s slave camp and then re-join him upon return. Konrad was unsure how the good General would take to him enslaving innocent villagers for his own benefit. This mission was not only to revive the morale of the One Sith’s soldiers but also to improve the General’s image of him.

 

[Raziel]

The figure moved through the crystalline structures that shimmered in the starlight. His Obsidian Armour had a shadowed outline hard to track with the naked eye. He weaved through the crystals as he followed the trail he had picked up a few hours ago. Eventually he found the place where the rocks jutted up from the ground and a flat wide crevice gave access to the underground tunnels. The figure pressed itself flat to the ground and slid forwards. In the armour he had to squeeze through the most narrow section of the crevice before emerging on the other side.

He landed lightly despite the height of the fall.

Something stirred.

The Lylek drew itself up it its full height. Chitinous armour plates rattled as it warned the intruder to back away from its nest. But the intruder held his ground.

There was a hiss and a cloud of steam rose from the figure's mask. The Lylek advanced a step. Raziel sensed its confusion. Nothing challenged the alpha predator. How could any creature dare to hold against its warning? The creature would soon learn it was not the most dangerous predator in this room. Raziel tensed in a barely perceptible gesture. His weight dropping just a few inches. for a few seconds nothing moved. Then as if synchronised the pair exploded into motion, rushing towards each other.

 

[cheshire_kitty]

[SIZE=9pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]Ryloth
Objective: Find and rescue General Baelor
Relevant People: [member="Isamu Baelor"] | [member="Jak Sandrow"] | [member="Hion the Herglic"]
Post: [2/20] (3)

“High Colonel Von Grimmelshausen, we believe we have found General Baelor's location, however, we request back up in dispatching Gutkurrs that surrond the shuttle.” One of the privates informed Konrad.

“Good. Lead me to the location.” Konrad ordered the men. They had to act quick since Gutkurrs were vicious creatures.

Thirty minutes later, Konrad, the group of privates who found the shuttle and a few men from Konrad’s personal unit, Die Jager arrived at the site of the crash. “Kark, there’s more of these motherkarkers!” Konrad heard one of the privates yell. Although the privates were initially excited at the prospect of finding and rescuing the Grand General, they were still green and have yet to experience a battle especially one which involved group of approximately 20 vicious creatures against a group of 10.

Konrad turned to the scared privates. “If you do not stand your ground, your corpses will be among those of the Gutkurrs.” Konrad could smell the fear that emitted from them, it was disgusting. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]The Gutkurrs, excited by the prospect of new prey, turned their attention from the shuttle to Konrad and his men and charged at the fresh meat, their sickle shaped claws swaying as they ran.[/SIZE]

 

[Zola]

Objective: B
Location: Ryll den
Allies: [member="Akatan Adasca"]
Enemies: NA
8/20

The Dark Jedi Knight laughed playfully, snatching up both of Akatan's hands, fingers intertwining with his.

“Oh don’t be cruel and deny me your company just because the place is a bit rough around the edges.”

If she were totally honest, cruel is exactly what Zola hoped him to be, just in less upright pursuits.

As if he were a balking mule, Akatan was dragged into the dark drug hole by the very persistent Hapan. This no-name place resembling a droid chop shop sold Ryll Kor, the rarest grades of Ryll in the galaxy. It was incredibly hard to score and outlawed on nearly every planet, except for Ryloth. Zola was determined to get Akatan to try it. From what she remembered, you'd get a vial from the bartender, and then took it to a private booth, one that snugly fit two people, three if you were all Squib and stood on each other’s shoulders.

Zola wasted no time, getting a vial of the charcoal-colored substance and headed for the backroom booths. She jerked her head for Akatan to follow, and once inside she turned and winked, waiting for him to join her in the short-cut to rapture.

 

[Akatan Adasca]

Objective: B, Promote the Arts (Art comes in many forms)
Location: Ryll Den
Allies: [member="Zola"]
Enemies: Nagging sobriety
6/20

"What better reason than because it's rough around the edges!" He said instinctively, inclement panic hidden behind a steely gaze. An attempt to remain stoic, he couldn't help just the hint of a smirk as she dragged him in. He may have been a prude, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Simply a matter of timing and opportunity, he ducked his head as she pulled him into the dark den. Cruelty wasn't a proclivity he was quite aware of yet, but like a dish he stuck his nose up at but found the lingering smell enticing, he might just fall for it here. And maybe not in the way she suggested.

Dragging his feet as they entered, she scurried to the bar and he watched with bated breath. The sort of loss of motor function that comes from anticipation, the mind canceling out reptile tendencies. He tilted his head as he walked, inspecting chains and scarlet threads hanging from the ceiling, gracing the golden crown on his head. As she moved, he squinted with an expression that suggested he was far beyond the point of no return. Moving the curtain out from his way, catching the cloth across his cuff, he looked down towards her with pale violet eyes. The sort of gesture that complimented her playfulness, an intensity to balance her out.

Sitting down next to her, cozy, he slowly gripped her hand, sliding the vial out from between her fingers. "Tell me, Jemmila..." He inspected the vile, moving it back and forth on it's center fulcrum, pushing the drug along the glass. It looked like tar, viscous and dark. Turning to her, he offered it back to her. "What do you really want?" She wanted immortality, to live a long life. But her, she chased that life with a fervor that suggested she understood the brevity of a natural life span. Her actions even suggested she appreciated the beauty of a finite timeline. She confused him and he found the idea slowly growing in appeal.

 

[Raziel]

The Lylek's tentacles shot out faster than Raziel had expected. Twin blades, one long and turquoise, the other short and violet snapped into life. The assassin dove for the floor as both blades span around his body. Cauterised wounds appeared in an instant on the creature's limbs.

He had to call on the Force to skid his body across the floor. The beast's jaws snapped down on where he would have been had the tentacles snagged him. It quickly changed tack, slamming it's claws into the ground, dancing on the spot trying to spear the diminutive spymaster.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Objective: Hail to the King Baby
1/20

"But what does Ryloth have to offer the Techno Union?" I asked sitting in a dusty cantina with an obese Twi'lek male. The building was practically crawling with members of Clan Vereen, and for the first time in a long time, the Dark Steel Dragons were making an appearance. The previous institution had been keen on claiming this world, but had pandered and eventually lost interest. "We don't allow slavery in the union, which is arguably half your planet's revenue." I sat back in the crappy chair, taking a drink from the glass in front of me. This guy was a slaver and business man pleading for his livelihood. At least from his perspective. From mine, he was pleading for his life. Life in prison as a symbol, or an execution. The more I thought about it the more I leaned towards handing him over to his slaves. The problems that would arise from trying to stabilize Ryloth would be hefty. Over population, rampant destablization. We were outlawing their primary source of income after all.

While he rambled on about how he could assist me personally, and how we should cut a deal under the table I had time to reflect on such matters. Regardless, this guy's operation was ending before I left. I'll seize his legal assets and smash the slave ring. What I would do with the slaves was a mystery to me still. Maybe some kind of Valley Association to provide jobs and supporting infrastructure. I felt like that had been done before and had succeeded at the time. Who knows... maybe it was problems like this that drove [member="Marek Starchaser"] mad.

 

[Jak Sandrow]

[member="Konrad von Grimmelshausen"]
[member="Isamu Baelor"]

Post 3/20
Objective: Survive

"My name is Jak." He offered his hand. "Bit of an all-round-talented kind of person; asked to be an assassin, turned out to be a survivor. It's been too long since my last crash; I've gotten soft." Gently helping the whale of a man to a more comfortable position, he was just about to start building the barricade, when he heard engines coming over the horizon. His eyes lit up and he was about to announce their position, when he was pulled back - again - by the other man. Thankfully; the Gutkurrs hadn't noticed them, and had turned their attention to the incoming ship.

"Okay, if you could give me a hand with him?" Jak asked. "I just need to splint his legs, temporarily till we can get him to some bacta." Closing his eyes, he let out a slow breath, green rippling over his skin like grass in the wind, turning his human complexion to a more verdant color. When he opened his eyes again, he gently poked two holes in the dirt. Seconds later, two sturdy branches - not too large, but not too small either - rose from the ground, and Jak picked them as easily as he would a berry.

"If there's some rope or cloth, that'd be useful," he asked, moving to the huge man. Carefully noting the saber in the finlike grip, Jak told him, "I need to straighten your legs, or your bones will not set properly. This is going to hurt."

 

[Zola]

Objective: B
Location: Ryll den
Allies: [member="Akatan Adasca"]
Enemies: NA
9/20

Their knees touched as Akatan took a seat across from her in the booth. Her pet stohl had fallen asleep, and was now snoring quietly around her neck. That was good because Akatan had just started to relax a smidgen more. Zola stared intensely into the businessman's unique purple eyes as he asked her a pointed question, fingering the vial then putting it back in her hands. She put the vial to her lips, letting it rest there for a moment as she pondered.

What did she really want? What a complicated question that was.

She wanted that transcendence that Darth Adekos had promised her several years back, but never delivered on. She wanted to become other. How did one achieve this? From her cultic studies, the chosen ones became the gods that others worshiped.

"I want to find out the meaning of life," she said. "It's not a pursuit one can achieve in one lifetime, is it?"

Her answer was only a small part of what Zola wanted, but if Akatan wanted to get to know her, he would need to peel her back, layer by layer, like an onion. She wasn't the type to show her entire hand at once.

Zola turned and politely ingested a generous amount Ryll Kor. Then, the petite Hapan climbed up onto the Arkanian's lap. Her eyes fluttering closed, her palm gently opened and she let the vial roll into his lap.

 

[Akatan Adasca]

Objective: B, Promote the Arts (Art comes in many forms)
Location: Ryll Den
Allies: [member="Zola"]
Enemies: Nagging sobriety
7/20

"I hope it is. Otherwise, I'm all out of luck." He said with a smile, mockingly of himself or maybe of her, as he had no capacity for the powers she sought. He had no desire to jump from one body to another. If he was to experience this life, he would do it on the once chance he had. Otherwise, was it really life at all? No consequences, no accountability, there lied no discernible frame of reference for the significance of action. And since all of his actions were significant, he felt the brevity of life course through him. Especially as she took her hit and crawled on his lap, legs splayed over him.

He felt the weight of her body against his as he leaned back, the weight of her presence against his, and he felt uncomfortably small. As if his aura was something meager, soul and ambition far too normal for her tastes and endeavors. But he was more than the image he had provided, he was a changing landscape that sought the superior position. No matter where that lied.

Fingers tracing across her exposed thigh, pointer-middle-pointer-middle, he walked his hand idly along her flesh. Until it found the vile, Violet eyes fixed upon her high as he inhaled. Maybe if he breathed hard enough, he could pull in his own share of it, experiencing it without ever stooping to this level. But alas, nothing came easy, as he popped the lid from the vile. It hopped from the glass and bounced against the cushion as he leaned back again, free arm across the backing of the seat. Curling her fingers around the vile, he led the edge to his lips before placing his other arm against the back of the chair. Not yet taking of the Ryll Kor, he watched her as she traveled across this path with shuttering eye lids.

If she wanted him to come along for this ride, through the flutter and dive, she'd have to drag him along kicking and smiling.

 

[Zola]

Objective: B
Location: Ryll den
Allies: [member="Akatan Adasca"]
Enemies: NA
10/20

The Ryll felt like freighter crashing into Zola's brain. It felt good. Almost too good, like she could fall in love with it. It was lucky that Zola wasn't the type to get addicted, at least not to illegal substances anyway. When Akatan's long, pale fingers walked up her thigh, the Hapan beamed at him, her eyes narrowed to slits. It felt like a thousand feathers of a celestial bird. The handsome businessman's purple eyes glimmered like jewels and his hair looked like golden spider silk. It beckoned her to touch it, and so she did, letting her fingers wander along his scalp.

She dropped her gaze to the vial which sat in his hands, the drug untaken. Other than those pills he took, he seemed quite uninterested in opening the doors to his perception. There were many other ways, some of which Zola was still experimenting with.

Outside of the booth was the sound of a Twi'lek torch singer crooning a lovelorn tune in Rylothean. It sounded a bit like a jerbwat slowly dying. Ugh. What a downer. Zola suddenly wanted to leave. If only she could remember where she was staying. She bit her lip in confusion.

"Did I book a hotel? Or are we on your ship?"

Her mind wasn't working properly. Akatan might have to help her get home tonight.

 

[Akatan Adasca]

Objective: B, Promote the Arts (Art comes in many forms)
Location: Ryll Den
Allies: [member="Zola"]
Enemies: Nagging sobriety
8/20

He tilted his head inquisitively, her fingers running through his hair as she drew closer to him. She wasn't intent on giving him the drugs, or perhaps she was too high to really think along that route. But her fingers, her nails against his scalp, it scratched an itch he didn't know he had. His neck pushed up, pressing against her titillation as her mannerisms turned inherently feline. Fancy as fleeting as a wild animal, her facial expressions were an open dialogue for him to interpret. He didn't suspect her as a deceiving sort, but there were truths she hadn't told him. But in those brown eyes, no lies would be had between them, even in the fog of euphoria. In his own way, he envied her trip. But he imagined they would have time in the future. There was more in than universe than simple Ryll and he had the money and the aroused drive to pursue it.

"I know whatever hotel you booked...it pales in comparison to my ship." A sinister smile, mixed with a healthy dose of charm, he pushed a bang from her forehead with a glancing thumb. Then he turned his head, the music vomited from some harlot spraying itself seamlessly through the curtain. He lifted his top lip, a show of his teeth. Placing his hand against the back of her thigh, he stood up and lifted her weight with him. Slowly dropping her to stand on her own, making sure she was level beneath that high, he grabbed her by the hand and strode out from the curtain. Like a missile with a honing sensor, his violet eyes panned to the singer and he strode forward, pointing accusingly. "This CHIT is awful. Stop what your doing!" He looked around, the haze of drugs apparent. "Do you people have no taste?!" He looked back to the singer. "You! You sound like..." he rolled his hand, trying to come up with a proper analogy. Then he smiled, snapping his fingers. "A bark lizard...but not a normal bark lizard. A bark lizard being flayed by a tribal clan of teddy bears, while they sing songs of mating rituals and fornication. No..." He held up his hand. "That cacophony, I would prefer that to what I'm hearing now!"

He turned on his heel, grabbing Jemmila by the small of her back and exiting. A bouncer, would be anyway, approached and tried to stop them. Akatan pulled out a couple hundred credits and tossed it on the ground, sending all the sycophants to the floor in a chaotic scramble, including the bouncer. As he looked back, he tilted his head and smiled at his new business partner. "I think we will go to my ship." Judgment, rightful and otherwise, always had a way of riling him up. She was right, this was fun.

 

[Raziel]

The sound that echoed around the cavern as those seemingly endless rows of teeth clattered together sent shivers up his spine. This was what it meant to be alive. To stand teetering on the edge knowing that to falter was to meet the end. This time as those tentacles came around Raziel braced his legs. Twin sabers crossed before his chest to meet the first limb that lashed out at him. Raziel made his first mistake.

Like a pair of scissors the blades cut cleanly through the limb. However, they did nothing to arrest the momentum. The metre of severed tentacle struck him across the top of the head, slapping him to his knees. His right blade met the other grasping tentacle, but he was too slow. It sent him tumbling across the floor. The veteran of many battles, Raziel had to wits to deactivate his sabers. The first action he took as he rolled to his feet was to call them back to his hands.

The Lylek paused, eyes considering its severed limb. The creature considered defeat for the first time since infancy. It paused. Raziel charged.

 

[Armand Temi]

Location: Wealthy estate area outside of Lessu, Ryloth
Objective A: Loot the estate
Allies: [member="Darth Vizios"] [member="Thais Kallisto"]
Posts: 14/20

Katagine just happened to be one of the guests of Lord Baard's house. "Party slut" was a disguise which the young, raven-haired Mandalorian wasn't completely used to wearing - at least not on assignment. But she knew there were credits being handed out for high-ranking feudal lords and slavers to be forcibly dragged to the Lessu Council Chambers to sign this Starchasing Provberbo, or whatever it was. Something anti-slavery. Whatever, Kata had picked up the assignment for the 35,000 credits per head.

And now she sat in the male Twi'lek's fancy mansion among the well-heeled of Ryloth and their Twi'lek slaves. Katagine felt a little underdressed since she was normally in her Drahr'gam armor, but Lord Baard didn't seem to mind. It was normally the type of outfit she would wear to a nightclub or cantina, but she didn't have the time or credits to pick out something more formal. Besides, in about two or three minutes, the paunchy Twi'lek would be in stun cuffs, and she would be dragging him off so she could collect her pay.

Spoiler

But there was a commotion at the door. While others may just assume it was an unwanted guest or even an angry spouse, perhaps checking up on a cheating partner, Katagine immediately thought that this was a rival merc showing up to steal her target. "Over my dead body," she growled, putting her glass of champagne down on a marble coffee table and walking to the front door to set things straight.

 

[Crix Meriet]

9/20
Location: Wealthy estate area outside of Lessu, Ryloth
Objective A: Hide the lard lord / Have a nap in front of the Tv
Allies: [member="Darth Vizios"] [member="Kyber Salurra"] [member="Thais Kallisto"] [member="Toby Meriet"]

Crix continued to whimper his face pressed into the crook of Toby's neck as the Holo-film reached a climax point. He couldn't bear to look at the screen, the noises were quite scary enough. He felt more kisses on his head as things seemed to heat up on screen, crix was petrified. Toby trailed one hand up crix's back to rub the back of his neck whilst his other hand traced circles onto his Tummy. Crix's whimpering subsided and he eased his own hands up from around his love's neck to thumb at the flesh behind the slave's ears ears. Light almost sleepy touches.

Indeed Crix was getting dozy again, yawning just a little. Of course he couldn't sleep not with the fear bubbling in his head, he suffered nightmares at the best of times and if he fell asleep in his present state well they would be much worse. It was hard being Crix. "P'tect me T m' darlin'" He murmured nuzzling his beloved slave again.

 

[Zola]

Objective: B
Location: Ryll den
Allies: [member="Akatan Adasca"]
Enemies: NA
11/20

"Your ship, yes." Zola said, lifting a brow. She laughed a little bit too long. "I remember what a striking ship it was. A pinnacle of Arkanian ship design." Akatan's chalk white hands felt like velvet against her forehead, her thigh, her hand. Suddenly, they were moving. Oh, she was walking. She teetered precariously on her high heels as if they were repulsorlift jets, leaning against the businessman for support.

Akatan began to gleefully shout at the singer with surprising cruelty in his tone. She studied him as he verbally lashed out at the entire place. He was pretty cute when he was angry. He tossed some credits to the floor and watched the patrons scramble like vermin. A bloody fight began to break out over the treasure, and Akatan simply watched with an amused gleam in his purple irises. That cruel streak of his? That could be useful for her. Oh she was liking him more and more.

"To your ship then," she said, with a nod of her head. She palmed the vial of Ryll Kor, which suddenly felt extremely heavy in her hands for no reason.

"What time is it outside?" she muttered to herself. Zola was really, really high.

 

[Akatan Adasca]

Objective: B, Promote the Arts (Art comes in many forms)
Location: Ryll Den
Allies:[member="Zola"]
Enemies: Nagging sobriety
9/20

"The time, outside, is of no concern to you." He spoke with a particular certainty as he pressed hard at the small of her back, leaving the Ryll den in their wake. He acknowledged her entertainment, her pleasure in has action, with a coy smile to match her subtle one. As they entered the space port, the luxury transport ship waited to take them on to the New Arkanian Legacy. As he stepped up to the entrance, he held out his hand for the Hapan. "Ms. Kyrgen..." He gave a tilt of his head. "Please step into my office."

He made the universal symbol of come over here. As she would enter, the ship door would shut behind them, the luxury yacht taking off from the spaceport towards the ADASCORP mobile headquarters.

In truth, he hadn't anticipated that this little adventure was going to go precisely as it did. Far and away from his plans. But he was so used to his plans, following them strictly with a particular fervor. He felt the shiver of excitement run the course of his spine for the deviation. But there was business here, somewhere amid the vague interactions between Arkanian and Hapan. And thiese sort of business dealings, while foreign, drew an earnest longing for continuation. Maybe, somewhere along the way, he might ask Jemmila if this was how she normally did business. If not, it was for the better, as he enjoyed the idea of being treated differently. Such was his station, to be treated as the prominent figure he was.

 

[Armand Temi]

Location: Wealthy estate area outside of Lessu, Ryloth
Objective A: Capture Lord Baard
Allies or Enemies: [member="Darth Vizios"] [member="Thais Kallisto"]
Posts: 15/20

Katagine rounded the corner and spied two figures starting to make their way inside. By the way they were dressed, they were only guests. The woman was relatively young, but appeared to be a nobleperson. The man was less ostentatiously outfitted, but no less noble. The bounty hunter slipped away unseen.

She checked her chrono and muttered aloud, "Okay, Tailhead. It's time to go to City Hall." Passing a bejeweled Twi'lek slave, she asked in her fake-sweetest voice, "Where can I find Lord Baard right now? I've barely spent anytime with him tonight at all."

The female alien pointed to the kitchen, so Katagine thanked her and made her way back there. Lo and behold, there was Lord Baard, a Twi'lek himself berating the kitchen staff. Pathetic, she thought. A Twi'lek owning another Twi'lek. Slavery was to be despised in her opinion. There is only freedom. And if Katagine didn't have her freedom, the alternative was death.

She stood in the kitchen entrance, hip cocked against the doorframe.

"There you are," she said in a melodic, come-hither voice. "I've been looking for you all night."

 

[Raziel]

Encased in its thick ceramic hide, dragging it across the surface of the world, back across the crystalline structures was no easy feat. When he reached the end of his journey he dropped the prize back to the floor, put his hands on his hips and breathed heavily.

Turning on the stop his eyes traced the trail across the tunnel floor it had dug out. A few more moments to gather his breath and he brought up a fist to slam against the door three times. The entrance to the sealed off town slowly slid out of place.

His face obscured by his helm, Raziel stood back behind his trophy as the Twi’lek guards stepped out.

“It made its nest three clicks west,” he explained, his voice modulated by the helmet. “I believe it was on its own.”

Relief was apparent on their faces, the beast had been picking off their inhabitants for weeks. Raziel did not care. All that mattered was the challenge. Something to busy his hands and mind. Without further ado, he turned on his heel and headed back into the wilderness.