Strider's War: Where Freedom Burns (Infiltration of Coruscant)

[Rosa Gunn]

Location: Imperial Palace
Allies: @Hion the Herglic @Cordelia de winter
Enemies: everyone

Layil rolled her eyes at the correction but said nothing more of it. hion was another she'd tried to reason with and he'd only repayed her with a duel, one that she'd fought with Turin, now Vaermina, Hound of the chosen. She stopped in her steps, regarding the huge being for a moment. How things had changed.

Whatever her thoughts, she remained silent on the matter. Choosing to focus on the matter at hand. "And what might that be?"

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

"Now Layil," rumbled Orcus in his impossibly deep bass as he continued with huge strides past her and on toward the awaiting shuttle, "Why spoil a surprise?"

His lips pulled apart to reveal rows of conical teeth as he smiled from ear to ear.

[member="Darth Layil"]

 

[Rosa Gunn]

Layil made a noise of irriatation and shook her head. "Because I don't like surprises."

That was only a partial truth. She liked surprises, when they were nice and brought her happiness, but there was nothing here that could do either of those things.

"I'm in no mood for games, Orcus" she hissed at him as she boarded the transport.

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

"Oh, but you'll enjoy this one."

The entire transport lurched as Orcus stepped inside.

"It has to do with some of his favorite friends, Sister."

The congenial Herglic clacked his teeth and seated himself on an entire row. The shuttle shuddered again.

"To the Spaceport?"

 

[Rosa Gunn]

"His?"" she snorted. "You greatly misunderstand me if you think anything he enjoys will please me."

You know nothing, you are dedicated, I am not. Stupid, ignorant fool.

"I am not your sister."

She chose to watch the traffic roll past as the trnasport took of with a slight whine of protest at carrying more weight than intended. A storm was brewing withing her, rage at everything and nothing rolled around in her chest. Closing her eyes, she stilled it, stored it for later use. Now was not the time to lash out.

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

"We are all brothers and sisters, after a fashion," replied Orcus with the slow, ponderous tone of a shifting glacier, "And I don't think you know of which he I speak."

The Herglic hummed after he finished speaking, a soft, delicate sound at odds with the gargantuan creature's size.

They soon merged with the congested traffic of Coruscant and the hustle and bustle of angry drivers filled the air with honks and beeps and accelerating speeders.

 

[Rosa Gunn]

Layil's hand lifted to remove her mask, revealing a familiar face beneath as she smiled a dangerous smile. One that didn't reach her glittering eyes.

"Then enlighten me, old friend." Each word was tinged with venom. Layil had no friends here, only enemies, enemies she would devour when the time was right. "Or do you intend to continue with your riddles?"

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

He stopped humming.

Black eyes widened as big, blubbery brows drew together.

"Aaaah, an old friend indeed." Warmth suffused Orcus. So she'd finally seen the right course of action. Good.

"I would tell you, but we're nearly there. And the Eye was so vague with her sendings."

 

[Rosa Gunn]

Whatever Layil thought about the Eye, she chose to keep it from view, her mask slipped back into place leaving only hate filled amber eyes to view.

"You know nothing." She said simply and fell silent for the remainder of the journey. Whatever awaited them at the spaceport would come to light soon enough. The mention of Isolda set her blood boiling and she reached out in the force to the foul woman.

Why do you torment me so? Have I not done enough?

[member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

"Ha!" Orcus trilled, "An interesting truth."

He shifted and the transport groaned in protest.

 

[Anastasia Rade]

Location: Coruscant Space
Allies: [member="Kix Tal'Verda"] [member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"] [member="Titan"] [member="Nolan Detta"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Petra Cavataio"]
Enemies: [member="Cordelia deWinter"] [member="Darth Layil"] [member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Mordecai Zambrano"]
Objective: Pout about the wait

Kayla sighed and hugged her father back. Security was boring and she much rather go shopping after all daddy promised some pretty toys. She was looking forward to that and getting this mission started.

If things did go south Ana would probably be able to talk or flirt her way out of any situation that they got in. Hopefully these security guards were a bunch of gullible men. That would let them off easily if any of the other members of the party had been packing heat.

It had been hard to leave her toys and armor home but she knew she was fine as she had the Force by her side plus her heels would make good weapons if need be.

Turning from the window Ana plopped down on a comfy couch and looked as if she was bored and rather irritated for having to wait.

 

[Reverance]

Location: Coruscant
Allies: One Sith
Enemies: Ummm, don't quite know yet. Gonna go with everyone, like all the other sithies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mmm, do you ever get the feeling like something doesn't belong?"

The man stood quietly behind his cart, eyes of old brown saucers and a mustache as gray as the clothing he wore. Though slightly less peppered with dirt. Gabriel stood, staring, his cold sanguine gaze fixed and un-moving as he searched the man for answers. The Sith Lord was but a man of intense nature, descent of Arkanian lineage that had inherited his fathers temperament, if not the additional idiosyncrasies of sadistic nature. He stepped forward, the metal between them the only saving grace that the old man now received from the Sith Lord. "Do I need to ask again?"

"Uh, n-n-no sir, you don't! I do get that feeling sometimes." The old man in his gray suit spoke with a quiver in his mannerisms. An appropriate response to the Sith Lord who had recently gained a level of infamy.

Yeah, thought Gabriel to the mans response, though he merely continued to stare upon the elderly. One hand found itself pressed against the metal, posture leaned in to reveal a head tilt as Gabriel bit into the succulent meat of the Karkan ribene. As he ripped flesh from bone, he chewed on the right side of his face and shook his head. "You added cinnamon to the ribenes. Any vendor worth his weight knows the sacredness of the tomo-spice and tomo-spice alone!" The Sith Lord was mad, his weight nearly pushing the meat cart and pinning the human against the wall. "But then again, you aren't Trandoshan...so...lay off the cinnamon. It doesn't belong." He pulled away from the cart, the old man shaky and seemingly petrified. Gabriel couldn't help but inwardly smile as he continued to gnaw on the bone, going upon his day in the world that he hated with a burning passion. But hate was but another thing supped upon.

 

[Arla Ordo]

[SIZE=12pt]Location: Coruscant Space[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Allies @Kix Tal’Verda @Sylvanan Tal’verda [member="Nolan Detta"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Petra Cavataio"] [member="Titan"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Enemies [member="Cordelia deWinter"] [member="Darth Layil"] [member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Mordecai Zambrano"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Objective: Play stepmother and wife[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Arla and for this mission to be called, checked her credentials one more time, Lila. Arla looked at the name again, she didn’t think she looked like a Lila. And better yet the young second wife of Strider.. oh no what was his name Jak Lorde, and she was Lila Lorde. Good grief she thought.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Finally emerging from her hiding place she smiled broadly appearing to be happiness in a hand basket. All while she thought we are going to dar’yaim in a basket.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]She caught him smoking. She had already warned him on the day they took the mission that if he tried to…touch her..in a husbandly manner she would ask [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] to cut his fingers off. Not that Naimes would but she had wanted to try and make Strider think that he wouldn’t just have to face her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Arla was also doing something else that was quite out of her element, she was first not wearing her armor, and second wearing a dress. One that actually showed off her legs. This was after all a luxury liner meant for vacationing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]She closed her eyes and said a little prayer and then crossed to her “husband”, “Jak dear” she called, “Have you taken your morning constitutional?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]In her own head she rolled her eyes she sounded like, like…some high born…hotsy totsy socialite. And one other thing that kept happening that made her want to strangle him, he kept calling her Babe. You know like youngling, ad'ika, but this was BABE. Arla tried not to groan.[/SIZE]

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Location: Coruscant, Sector 1Y4F
Allies: A Sith has no allies, just interests and assets.
Enemies: Anyone who gets in his way.

Nothing...

The thought lingered through the Sith Lord's mind as he looked at the holoscreen. Frustration crept in from the subconscious corners of his mind, Kentarch did his best to push his emotions aside. Now was not the time for hate. Glancing over the OSINT material one more time he tried to see if he had missed something. Checking each value, each piece of information, each data point for something. Nothing. Again he began to type away furiously at his terminal, then stopped himself. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results was insanity. Kentarch hated that overused cliched quote, he had forgotten where it had come from. Yet the Sith now realized the warning behind those words. There was nothing to gain in his current course of action. No he would need change strategies completely.

For more than a week Darth Kentarch had hidden in the bowels of Coruscant. The Blackpit Slums were perhaps the best place on the planet to hide. For centuries the local authorities used only droids to police the area, in the capacity to minimize open armed violence in the streets. Between the organized crime, petty crime, and the commonplace corruption, using people for law enforcement was beyond the means of organized galactic governments. If the crime did not get you, the conditions did. Large spider roaches and armored rats scurried about the alleys, worms and slugs the size of a limb squirmed the the cracks and crevasses of the city block units. The causeways and walkways were caked in black industrial soot, mounds of trash and debris were stacked higher than the hight of average person, in more places then Kentarch cared to count. No one would come here to look for him. It was not hard to get here or hide here, no leaving was the real hard part.

Yet the time had finally come. Standing, the Sith Lord moved away from the terminal and through the small sorry excuse for an apartment. There was nothing inside save a chair, a bed, and the holo-terminal. Pulling his hood up, the man's face was shrouded in an unnatural darkness that hid his features. For over week Kentarch had tried using open source information on markets to determine a pattern in army and naval movements of the One Sith. If that information could be obtained, it could be very valuable especially to their enemies.

[member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Nyos Val]

Location: Kuari Princess Lounge/Space
Allies: [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Arla Balor"] [member="Anastasia Rade"] [member="Kix Tal'Verda"] [member="Nolan Detta"] @Petra Cavatio
Enemies: [member="Reverance"] [member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Darth Layil"] and company
Objective: Get on Coruscant

Titan laughed as Nolan was forced to give up his toys. The giant was rarely seen outside his armor, let alone laughing. He looked at the group that had gathered. Fine warriors, all of them. He felt proud to be on the mission. Seeing as he was to pretend to be the guard to Strider/Jak he felt obligated to pour the lot all a glass of the ale.

"To our vacation!" The behemoth raised the pint in the air, his massive hands made the full glass look like a smaller scotch glass. He took a big gulp of the bitter beverage. The bite from the hops felt good going down the back of his throat.

The ships comms came to life as an automated message was played about their arrival being within minutes. They were told to return to their rooms to gather their things and prepare to land at the spaceport. Titan would grab his stuff once the toast was made.

 

[Nyos Val]

Accidental double post

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

The Shriek-Hawk, ever vigilant.

She had been sent with a man who went by the name of Vizsla some time ago to the city-planet. On the orders of Mand'alor Gilamar Skirata they had gone to aid and support the rebels, whom at the time, were alive and strong. Now, since Gilamar's death and defeat after defeat of the Republic, the rebels had become disillusioned, nearly disbanded they were now a minority, seen as a terrorist group by even those they claimed to wish to save.

Vizsla had died. Killed by a Sith Agent in disguise, and with that the rebellion splintered and filtered deep into the Undercity. Cut off from Mand'alor the few volunteer Mandalorians slowly one by one were assassinated. She was one of a small number left, but hope had come one day.

Strider Garon had contacted her and others on the behalf of Mand'alor Azrael "Skirata". She had heard of the bionic man, Gilamar's most trusted Field Marshal he had overseen many a mission on his behalf. It seemed fitting that he was to lead now. But back to the message.

She had received information, the Mandalorians would be here, they would need help, exactly the kind of help they had been sent to provide. Looking down to her chrono she marked the seconds until they would arrive. Her job? Secure weapons, a distraction, and a way out if things went south for her brothers and sisters, and hopefully get off this hell hole.

She could only hope.

She blended back into the crowd of the Undercity.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Coruscant, G-17​

Before the Gulag G-17 had been one of the many slum districts scattered around the Imperial City, rats, scum and worse had made their home in the fringes of the space, far away from the all-seeing eye of any government. Today G-17 was worse, few if any people lived here anymore, most of them trying their luck in one of the more upper levels and with them gone, other critters came in and took charge.

Gangs on one side, cannibals on the other, mutants on the third and more importantly… a certain cult on the fourth side. Darth Carach was not aware of the incoming incursion of the Mandalorians into their space, he didn’t have the all-seeing eye of [member="Darth Isolda"] on standby, or the lucky chance of [member="Hion the Herglic"] and [member="Darth Layil"].

He was simply a man, granted one who could warp the fabric of reality by simply thinking just a little too loudly, but still a man for all intents and purposes.

So there he stood, the Voice of the Dark Lord, flanked on each side by a member of the Royal Guard - after Mierin’s demise the Guard had been in uproar, half of the army had stolen away in the dark, the other half had lost its leadership in the span of a few moments.

Carach and Mierin had worked together on numerous occasions, and so the Sith Lord knew of the capabilities of the Guard and had been eager to turn them to his own cause, which hadn’t been as difficult as you might assume. An army without a leader is like a-- well, let’s not bother ourselves with faulty analogies just yet. Suffice to say that after some negotiations all but a few stepped up and decided to guard the Voice with their lives.

In front of the Voice was a kneeling man, his armor was inverted to the garbs of the Royal Guard. Black where theirs was red, and red where theirs was black; a rare member of the Shadow Guard. Whereas Mierin had been content with simply using the Royals as her personal army and protectors, the Voice of the Dark Lord wished for more, after perusing the old archives in his possession he realized the potential and decided to reform most, if not all of the old Emperor’s hierarchies in the Royal Guard.

‘Rise.’ the Voice of the Voice whispered to his agent. ‘You are certain of this?’

‘Yes, my Lord. The cult has barricaded itself in an old imperial outpost, deadcenter of the districts. They are currently under siege by the before mentioned parties.’

‘Hmm, G-17 has a strategic location with ports connecting it to the various other industrial zones around it. This is an opportunity, we demolish this would-be turf war and secure the district for future use.’

‘Very good, sir.’

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Coruscant, Senate District, Quadrant A-89, Ministry of Truth Headquarters

The building that was formally known as the Republic Justice Center had been abandoned in the fight or flight situation during the One Sith's surprise attack on the Republic capital, and in the aftermath the Sith Lord Darth Vornskr had stormed the building and claimed the spire for himself. The entire building had been searched, and any files still worth anything to the One Sith had been collected and placed into secure vaults hidden within the bowels of the sprawling building. The building was then re-purposed according to the Sith Lord's exacts specifications, and it's judicial facilities were made to house an entire legion of the Sith Lord's private paramilitary army, the Blackblade Guard. Aspects from various Imperial Intelligence agencies were also compiled into the building under the service of Vornskr, and their parameters were re-purposed to gather intelligence directly relating to historical individuals, places, and events.

Why he was having his servants compile a massive database of historical information was unknown to even his closest colleagues, and it was known that the Sith Lord would barricade himself away in his personal quarters within the structure endlessly searching through the data compiled by his servants, and that is exactly what he was doing at the precise moment a group of Mandalorians began to infiltrate the Imperial Capital. He had remained oblivious to such infiltration as no alarm had been sounded, and no whispers from the Eye had graced his presence, and thus in the confines of his own sanctuary the Sith Lord's guard was lax to the extreme. However; even his limited precognition senses were tingled with an anticipation he could not put his finger on despite it's incessant nagging, a nagging which was beginning to put a damper on his already solemn studying.

Finally the Sith Lord took in a deep breath, and lightly rubbed the bridge of his nose as he pushed himself away from his desk, and decided to take a small break from his duties. He moved onto the large and cushioned sectional sofa, and turned on the HoloNet just in time to catch the beginning of an episode of "The Brazen and the Alluring", the galaxy's most celebrated holodrama. Only one thing could ruin this little piece of private bliss, and that was Mandalorians.

But what were the chances of there being Mandalorians in the heart of Imperial territory?

...

 

[Jairus Starvald]

The odds were actually surprisingly large.

Coruscant, the Imperial Center and Pearl of the Galaxy… it was a bustling metropolis with millions, no billions of inhabitants. That didn’t even quantify the sheer amount of traffic the planet got back and forth, people moving in and out of the planet with goods, resources and other vices that constituted the lifeblood of the City Planet.

It wouldn’t be hard for the Mandalorians to infiltrate the city, no that wasn’t the problem they would be facing. When one infiltrates the capital of a foreign nation there are others things of worrisome quality, would they simply be satisfied with digging in and awaiting a bigger invasion force it would have been easy.

But if they were looking for subterfuge, sabotage of facilities, theft of information they would soon find that things weren’t as easy as they might want. On the ground they’d find that the pockets of imperial power, the Palace, the various government institutions, the fortresses of the various Sith Lords, the industrial zones - all that was strategically and economically important - had been secured and fortified.

They’d have two choices here, either take it easy and approach things slowly, which equaled to pinpricks for the Imperial Order, or… attempt to do major damage and pull out the heavy guns, which is where the Imperial Fleet stationed over the planet would come in.

After all the attempts of foreign nations to invade the sovereign territory of the Sith, they permanently stationed a defensive fleet over the planet, which doesn’t really mean anything, besides the fact that this fleet has interdictors. The moment they try anything big those interdictor fields will come up and lock-down the entire system, and if that wasn’t enough… Coruscant is in the possession of a planetary shield, it too, would be enabled.

In light of these two facts the Mandalorian Rebels would soon find that they weren’t able to leave the planet, much less the sector of which the planet was part of.

One would almost suggest them to go home now, instead of attempting anything remotely as outlandish as whatever they are planning.

***​

Alas, Darth Carach was not aware of Mandalorians, when his companions finally reached the conclusion they were being infiltrated he would probably be contacted by his fellow Voices, Hands or perhaps even the Eye herself.

In the meanwhile, while maybe’s and probabilities were being discussed the Royal Guard had already surrounded their target, and were now waiting for the Voice of the Dark Lord to give them the signal. Their commanding officers didn’t actually know -what- the signal was, when asked Darth Carach had simply smiled and said they would know.

A lone figure, the Voice himself, set out on a stroll and each step took him closer to the front door of the Outpost, and with it the cannibals who had set camp in front of it. They were a mixed lot, some had good gear, other were practically naked and all of them had a distinct shudder in their jowls.

The sign of a true cannibal.

In this tide of ignorance, barbarism and stupidity stood Darth Carach, with one of his trade signature and he spoke, his voice carried across the field and their minds, it said the following.

‘Put down your weapons, get on your knees and accept servitude, or I promise you… your end will be painful and full of agony.’

It was met with laughter.