Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion The Abyss (OPA Dominion of Tibrin)


And so the Gamorrean poked Amea in her back once more without any more of a result than before, forgetting the cuffs that clung to his belt as he slowly began to lead her through the crowds. Amea gave the people she passed a curious glance as she tried to tell if they were the one responsible for all of this. From the looks of it they had cuffed several other members of the crowds as well and Amea would make the move to keep her hands behind her back. The thug not being the sharpest tool in the shed and quite frankly also looked kind of dumb, did not register his mistake and happily kept on pushing.

“The mow-rens keep coming,” He happily said to himself with a chuckle and looked over at his friends holding Deacon and Peyton. “An’ dey don’ stop comin’.”

Amea personally considered what could happen if she hit the ground and then just kept on running. Naturally it wouldn’t be very fun, in fact getting her head smashed in seemed kind of dumb, but there was much more she could do if she played along, not to mention the people she could see. So for this one, maybe it was best to just take it back a bit. If she didn’t, she would never know who was responsible, and if she could solve this without violence she would clearly prefer to do that, as the shine and glow of blasters did not appeal to her much.

“Hey, now you da’ boss.” Said the gamorrean as he approached his friends and their captives. “Got game on, how play this? What do?”

Oh, Amea was quite sure this gamorrean must have been the real all-star of this particular crew.

Not.
 
Objective: Shadow War
Location: Tibrin, pre-gaming in the resort next to the rave
Inventory: Fancy Club cloths, Rebel Signate ring

Date: Nyree Justice Nyree Justice

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To say Maokai was out of his element was an understatement of epic proportions. After his first meeting with Nyree Justice Nyree Justice during the rebellion of Zonju V the two had kept in touch. When he heard of this event he finally had a reason to "ask" for her help in Alliance business. Little did he realize the amount of help he would get. Nyree was an experienced raver to say the least. As he looked at himself in the mirror he was in either awe or sheer shock at what he saw.

Top be sure it was different, hell he doubted anyone would recognize him in this state. From the cloths, to the shoes, hair even make up and glitter he was the picture of everything the outer rim was not.

"Nyree you sure I need all this, I mean this is really what people wear to these things? Wouldn't something more a little less flashing help is blend in better?"

He took another shot from the bottle of what Nyree had brought as the two pregamed, the liquid courage helping him relax as she put the finishing touches on his look. Before pouring another he looked over to his date and waited for her to respond to his questions.
 
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Objective: Make it Gucci, Fam
Location: Next to Maokai Bantam Maokai Bantam
Inventory: The Dopest shirt, the illest skirt,
Date: The aforementioned hunk, Bantam​


Nyree didn't want to say that she was one of the leading minds behind fashion trends. But she did know that she wasn't on Flek--flek was on her. She was the Gucciest, the Bougiest, the illest, fam. She wasn't just lit--lit was her. She was the embodiment and yardstick of the latest and greatest fashion. Her dedication to looking good knew no bounds--hell, she even robbed an entire planet to get a pair of shoes when the production stopped due to an economic down turn!! No, no no, this girl was the best there was--in fact when Galactic Gems did their annual piece on the hottest in the bizz--well, this was her third year on that list.

Makoa here, great as he was, with all his wonderful hunky, pink, and strong qualities--well, Bouginess wasn't on that list. He was great, but when it came to dressing--she clearly needed to dress him. That's why when it came down to it--she was going to rave the f'in lovin' starlight outta him.

"Yes," she said answering his question as she adjusted the green shirt she had picked for him. It showed his bod off, and matched his skin perfectly. If you thought those were bad--well, the chrome skinny jeans she picked out for him were even worse.... but she would argue they were so much better.

"No one here is here to blend in," she said grabbing a pallet and going to work. With her tweezers she expertly placed blue, white, silver, and gray sparkles over his already blue-shadowed face. "You don't wear Hoth camo to the Forest moon of Endor." She had no idea what either of those camos looked like, except in the fashion sense. And in that sense--they were a crime.

The teen took a step back, admiring her work, "One last thing," she reached over, plucking a hat from the dresser and placing on his head, "Now you are ready, honey. Let's get lit, fam."
 
Location: Underwater Rave
Role: Innocent Bystander

Embedded in the water that felt much warmer to her now than it was, it was as if Rosario's entire being dissolved in the music that had acquired an entirely new, fresh, and fascinating dimension in the unfamiliar medium. Not a thought was lost to the fact that it wasn't her native environment, that in time she would have to return to the air to take a breath. Time was slowed down and it seemed so far away.

An agent was meanwhile eyeing the pile of clothes the girl had left on the floor and idly walked over to rummage through them, where he found to his considerable astonishment a lightsaber. He looked around and quickly identified the Zeltron girl, floating in underwear in the water perhaps a metre from the hydrostatic barrier, as the likely owner. He pulled a short rod from his belt, which upon his touch extended, and pushed it into the water to prod her with it.

An electric shock went through Rosario, she shivered, and blacked out. The arm that was extended into the water to grab her missed her narrowly and in fact induced a slight current that carried her further into the water-filled part of the club...

Zak Dymo
 
To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before
Objective 2: Maltese Coral
Allies: OPA
Enemies: Vong

Janick had an idea of how to determine the properties of the coral she was here for. She could always claim to be there for eco-sensitive materials and sample different coral varieties for testing. Surely she could use a variety coral to grow on Drexel or Pantora for just that reason if the properties were appropriate. However the Vong would know about it also. Yet she needed to obtain a mapping of the coral varieties before she could proceed with sampling: the varieties of interest would likely be closer to the Vong. Yet she knew better than to take them on head-on and she feels it's better to have a distraction first before moving in for sampling. The Vong are closing in on the coral: I need someone else to provide a distraction so that I can move in and take a sample of the coral they are interested in on this planet, she thought, in hopes of the others picking up the telepathic signal. Such as Jic Drow Jic Drow and Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt .
 
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Fulcrum

Guest
F
The rodian bounty hunter's last stand was a valiant if foolish one. He managed to stick Deacon's zabrak captor in the arm before he was practically char broiled by repeated stun baton blows. Some quick close quarters moves from Peyton Steele dropped another would be collector but by the time she managed to help him back to his feet they were surrounded again and still unarmed.

“Got game on, how play this? What do?”

"No, you karking idjit," the burly zabrak growled, holding his wound shut, "I said bring em to One Horn, not to me!"

Deacon's artificial eye twitched. Something about that name sounded familiar. He was still groggy from the chair but he sized Amea Virou Amea Virou up quickly and couldn't help but feel like he'd met her somewhere before. His blurred vision focused on the nearby mouse droid ( Servant Servant ). It was an old Imperial model. An image flashed in his mind. A body floating in space illuminated by U-Wing floodlights. It was a memory, one he hadn't thought about in years. Without thinking he started to speak.

"Take the stick," he stared at Amea but his eyes were very far away, "As soon as she's on board, you burn hard for the Itsukusk."

His captor punched him in the gut, "You've caused enough trouble, Deacon."

The hapan doubled over but his gaze struggled to stay with Amea. He wheezed.

"Don't wait for my order."

One way or another Allyson Locke was coming home.
 

Arbiter

Guest
A
"Is that going to be a problem for you?"

THREAT ANALYSIS.

"No," he determined, "I do not believe that it would."

Caedyn Arenais got the distinct impression the metal man wasn't talking about accepting each other's differences. When the Jedi Knight confirmed he was here for a rescue mission Arbiter was satisfied by his motives and decided not to kill him for now. A blade hand could prove useful for what may lie ahead. The Iron Knight knew about the mercenary contract of which Caedyn spoke, and if the opportunity presented itself he would collect on its reward.

But that was not why he was here.

"You cannot feel it?" Arbiter asked the Jedi, "We are not alone."

Maybe he was mistaken about this one after all. He needed more data to make a final assessment. The Iron Knight's skills as a Force Hound were considerable. Sensing life was a part of what made him such an excellent hunter. Most of the time these unexplained catastrophes had very rational explanations. Engine failure, a rogue meteor strike, pilot error. But the Arbiter knew what most Outer Rim natives already suspected. Monsters were real.

It was his purpose to kill them.
 

Zak Dymo

Guest
Z
Objective: Shadow War
Stuff: Padawan Jet Robes | Beats Headphones | Wristlink | Riptide
Tags: Rosario Perlyn Rosario Perlyn
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[ gentleman ]

The playlist was still going, but whatever had usurped Zak's datapad wasn't allowing him to clear the image on the display.

Oh well, the set would continue on autoplay for at least another twenty or thirty minutes, not that there were very many people dancing now. There was some kind of scuffle over by the bar. And something else seemed to be going on by the door. The image of the guy with the ridiculous credit number seemed to have caused a number of people to talk and whisper among themselves.

Water being a great conductor for sound, the young aquatic was actually more privy to those conversations than he would have liked. After all, that's what he had fourteen head-tails for. No ears, but excellent hearing with the receptors and nerves in those lekku. Some were talking about the Outer Planets Alliance. Others were saying some bad things about it.

Either way, it was starting to feel like it was about to go down. And that meant that it was time to splits the shiz-ouse. Flipping the headphones back up on his head, the boy tapped the side to disconnect from the club feed and start playing a random song from his own playlist.

Ugh.

Zak had this strange feeling. At first, he thought he was going to fart, but then it slowly dawned on him that this wasn't a fart-y feeling. The boy was confused for a moment, before it slowly dawned on him that it might be the Force.

So, okay, he was feeling the Force. Many Jedi. Much stretch out with your farts.

...now what?

Closing his eyes, the small Nautolan drew in a breath and tried to remember what that old tea hermit had said to him. Way of the Right Hand? No, that hadn't been it. Circle of the Light Band? No, that wasn't it either. Hadn't there been something about meditation?

Just how did this Jedi stuff work? The other kids totally made this part look easy, but Zak was convinced that they were all just asleep in meditation class, like he was. Just, Zak was the only one who ever got caught.

Of course, the Force realizing that its chosen instrument for this task was both completely inept and not even marginally competent, it had taken matters into its own hands rather than relying on Zak's ability to divine providence. At the boy's hip, the Greater Krayt Dragon Pearl encased in the lightsaber seemed to give a growl that resonated through the Force. At the same time, the curved, silver hilt started pulling away from the boy's side as though summoned by some invisible hand.

Or, was pointing something out to him.

As Zak's hands closed around the hilt of the Makashi inspired lightsaber, the boy's eyes reflected the figure of a pink hued woman adrift in the water as his head aligned to where the lightsaber had been trying to pull away to.

That lady didn't look like an aquatic.

While Zak might have been a dunce when it came to Force Sense, Force Speed was something that he was actually good at. Usually much to the regret of Coci Heavenshield Coci Heavenshield or whatever Jedi Master that Zak may have offended at that particular moment. In an instant, Zak had caught the lady and was through the hydrostatic barrier, erupting in a splash that dumped out onto the floor of the dry side as the young Nautolan deposited the lady down.

Was she drowning? Dead? As the boy passed a hand over the body, he did his best impression of Uri Aureleos Uri Aureleos but found that he really didn't have the slightest clue just what he was doing. Hadn't Ilias Nytrau Ilias Nytrau showed him something about this with a piece of fruit?

Ah, kark it. Here went nothing.

Smacking his palms together, the boy rubbed his hands in a rapid up and down motion, as though charging imaginary defibrillator panels. Then, holding his hands out toward the woman, said, "Clear!"

It was possible that he felt the Force in that moment.

It was also entirely possible that he was just gassy.
 
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Results had been quick to manifest, though observation from the relative safety of the Host made it evident that there were either relatively few unhired mercenaries and hunters in the premises, or else that they were too intimidated or pre-occupied to make a move towards the captured pirate. In the meantime, the machine made efforts to avoid being crushed entirely by the steady rhythm of bodies being knocked to the ground, and around hither and thither with stumbling steps. The Intelligence had at the least accomplished a degree of espionage on the nature of the assault, acknowledging that Red Blade might possess alternative identities, likely associated with governmental agencies; shadow wars such as this were unordinary for simple turf wars, and when performed were often quick and bloody affairs.

The machine mind made a quite literal note to investigate further into the true identity of the Red Blade starting with the assortments of names being given by his captors and himself. Deacon, Desmond, and a planetary body called Itsukusk, all of these would be analyzed in-depth by the artificial intellect until it had deciphered every detail for its consumption. In the meantime, however, it needed to guarantee the survival of associate organic agents. While it had initially considered that to be only Deacon and Peyton Steele, it was recognizing that a number of others had been stricken throughout the premises as well, indicating that this was less a surgical operation meant to incarcerate a single individual, and more a broad stroke meant for invited members of the Outer Planets Alliance.

Another humanoid organic ( Amea Virou Amea Virou ) had been prodded towards the recognized pair, being held captive at the end of a boarish being's weapon. The Intelligence acknowledged that this was likely an allied associate, and added it to the growing list of individuals that it should not eliminate should necessity arise for a lethal course of action. Red Blade was seemingly trying to formulate a plan with her amidst the repeated beatings of his own captors, though the words seemed non-sensical, possibly a code meant for other agents of whatever establishment with which he retained membership. Elsewhere, a pink-skinned organic ( Rosario Perlyn Rosario Perlyn ) was electrified, knocked into a stupor or a state of unconsciousness while within the confines of the watery segment of the club. A much smaller lifeform (Zak Dymo) promptly retrieved the unconscious female with an unnatural level of speed, depositing her upon the ground and evidently beginning some form of resuscitation.

The final captive acknowledged by the machine intelligence was an older male organic ( Tiland Kortun Tiland Kortun ) who was a statistical anomaly from the beginning; studies and common opinion both held that raves were often attended solely by more youthful persons, though perhaps the older man had attended in order to provide wisdom on the proper application of customary dances and songs, taking on the role of a respected elder. The Intelligence did not know, and flagged the information as irrelevant to current problems, shifting valuable processing units to how it could facilitate the relatively safe release of the captive agents.

The mouse droid had been useful for the sake of gathering intel on the location, though it was ineffective for any demonstrations of force. It did not have even a single combat feature associated with its chassis, making it a poor equipment choice for the majority of strategies being considered by the Intelligence. The machine mind guaranteed that its control over local camera systems and console screens had been secured, and promptly disconnected itself from the mouse droid, with standing orders to remain nearby in an inconspicuous location. The released droid promptly whirred, scurrying to a corner of the room, and waiting there in a curiously uncharacteristic fashion.

Elsewhere, with processing units freed up to activate another host, a droid which had sat dormant for some time stirred, a facsimile of life returning to its artificial features.
 
“Oh.” The gamorrean said and fell into quiet contemplation. “Where he? Me forget.”

Amea rolled her eyes before she caught the glance of Deacon. It seemed almost as if he had seen a ghost. He kept his attention focused on her and began to mutter something. Take a stick? Burn for- what did he say? Amea’s own eyes peeled as she processed what he had said. The Itsukusk was an Alliance flagship, one that she had only seen mention of in a single file. Her heart sank, almost pained as she struggled not to remember it. No, that was a coincidence. This man was in binds and stoned out of his mind. A lucky guess.

“We go, we meet leader, you die.” The thug behind her gloated and poked her yet again with a stun baton that he had forgotten to turn back on. “You so stooped, you-men.”

For some reason the insults got to her. Not because they were good ones but rather for the exact opposite reason. Amea had been insulted by professionals, and this thug seemed to be little more than a spoiled cousin thrown a pity card by a family member embedded in the organization. Or they had been brought along as muscle that by some divine mistake must have been given more pull than they could ever comprehend what to do with. Which in a sense was a shame, gamorreans were usually a species that was associated with strength and pot bellies. This specimen was just… Sad.

“Say, you must be a bright one. You certainly got me without issue.” Amea began and continued to hold her unrestrained hands behind her back. “How was it that you managed to pull this off?”

The gamorrean chuckled happily to himself. “You no get to know, dum-dum. Me de smart one. You de dum-dum. I genius, you no understand.”

Amea let in a deep breath and blew it off with a long sigh before she muttered under her breath,

“Inari preserve me.”

 
Amea Virou Amea Virou Deacon Peyton Steele Servant Servant Rosario Perlyn Rosario Perlyn Zak Dymo

A bemused smile spread across Tiland's face as he looked around at the others and the cuffs around his wrists. He recognized more than a few of them. And there was a familiar presence not terribly far away. He could just make out the familiar shape of the young Nautolan at the music thing. What a coincidence that they were all here together. That made the smile on his face grow wider. There was no such thing as coincidence after all. It was the Force. Although in this case, it gave the impression that there was something sinister involved as well, based on whoever this One Horn was. But the Itsukusk? That was a name he hadn't heard in a very long time.

His eyes narrowed as he studied the man. Where did he know him from? And how did he know the old Galactic Alliance flagship so well? More importantly, why was he discussing it? It had been burned years ago. His injuries must be much worse than they looked. Internal brain damage, perhaps? Peculiar. But he undoubtedly needed treatment and these thugs didn't seem to be in any hurry, especially if they were threatening to kill.

Tiland kept the smile loose on his face as he eyed the whole proceeding until he felt a small click around his wrists as he unlocked the cuffs with the Force. The music was too loud to hear the mechanism deactivate, but he kept his hands together and in the cuffs for now. So there was a leader behind all of this. A conspiracy. How many others had they lured into their trap? Who was behind it? The only way to find the spider at the edge of the web was to walk into the center and get caught.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?" He asked brightly. "Let's go meet this One Horn who's put so much effort into hosting this wonderful party, shall we? Have to say, it's a bit loud for my taste, but I suppose I could see the appeal to the younger folks like these." He gestured to the crowd around them.
 
Location: Underwater Rave
Role: Innocent Bystander
Tags: Zak Dymo ( Amea Virou Amea Virou , Deacon, Peyton Steele, Tiland Kortun Tiland Kortun , Servant Servant )

Rosario came to and coughed. The first thing she saw were the Nautolan boy's large, pitch-black eyes staring at her. He felt energetic and benevolent. She, on the other hand, felt... awful. Every fibre of her body seemed to hurt, in an intense, flickering, pulsating manner. She reached out with her hand, found that it was clumsy, and at first touched the boy's nose, then found the cheeck she had actually been aiming for and rubbed it tenderly. His skin felt interesting, not only was it wet, but also different from that of near-humans, more leathery somehow. Rosario inspected the sensation, lost herself in it, her eyes open, but looking deeply into nowhere.

"Hey, you, get away from her!" barked the agent whose actions had precipitated the entire scene. He rudely grabbed Zak's shoulder and shoved the boy away. In his other hand, he held a pair of manacles, with which he reached for Rosario's hand that was left hanging in the air. She suddenly realised that she was freezing cold.

The girl turned her head slightly and looked up at him in confusion. As if in a dream, unawares and yet with perfect surety, she suddenly moved her hand and narrowly avoided his. A frown appeared on her face. The man she was looking up at didn't feel nice. He had a round, brown face, short hair and a stubbly beard. No handsome, not ugly. He didn't seem violent, per se, but he was definitely out of place at this party. Too sober, too focused, too... hard. He seemed annoyed. "Hey!" she protested. "What are you doing?" She reached up with her other hand to slap his face - and succeeded, only afterwards he managed to catch her wrist and started pulled her up against her resistance.
 
Objective 2

Tags: Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt Janick Beauchamp Janick Beauchamp


Jic had some work ahead of him, he figured. Being the one here who was a native of the world, and a native of the water, that gave him the advantage. It was why he was signed up for this mission, despite just being a lowly smuggler and a gun-for-hire. But with the formation of the OPA? It felt like this was exactly where he should be. Being the first in the water, he did have a line he needed to bring down to secure, that way there was at least a beacon kept in the water, rally point for the divers or for the rescue boat. On his back was a speargun he could shoot into the substrate. They’d be fine.

Looking up he nodded and blinked as a few others dove in. The Ishi Tib waited until he saw it was time to move.

“I’m setting the rally beacon. We’ll use it for pick up. If you need to, there is life vests attached that will help you surface.”
Did humans and the like need a stop for safety? He wasn’t sure. “Some of us are on point to watch for the Vong, the others are helping with the reef research. I’ll be lead. We’ll go down and drift with the current.” Easier for the non aquatics.
 

Peyton Steele

Guest
P
She really… really didn’t care for stuncuffs. Not if she didn’t know they weren’t coming. The Agent was shaking her head at Red Blade, she was not pleased with him. When she felt the blade slip into her hands, she raised an eyebrow. Pirate was good for a few things. She really wanted to pull him into the Underground. Doing her best to hide the blade, she watched as a Rodian approached and the guards were speaking.

When the stun batons came out that was when it all went wild. Feeling a hand on her wrist, she moved to free herself from the stuncuffs.

“Special Agent for WHO?”
That wasn’t getting answered anytime soon as the chair came and the mouse droid. Servant? She hoped. But why would it be?

Because that little droid caused trouble, everywhere. Once she got herself free she was doing what she could, Red may not be lying to her, but she wasn’t about to let the security take them. But still, she knew she heard a name when he had a chance to speak. That was Alliance.

Who was this?

Servant Servant
Deacon
Amea Virou Amea Virou
Tiland Kortun Tiland Kortun
 

Fulcrum

Guest
F
"Stand down Peyton," Deacon managed now that he was again breathing normally, "Master Kortun is right."

Of course he knew Tiland Kortun Tiland Kortun . He knew all of them, even Amea Virou Amea Virou . Agent Darksword had chosen Peyton Steele to shadow precisely because she had still been a junior agent with the Galactic Alliance collapsed. He knew her least of all and sometimes that was a blessing in his profession. Anyone looking for Desmond Darksword would never think to look in the most obvious place. That had been the plan anyway.

"Too many innocents," he nodded over to Zak Dymo and Rosario Perlyn Rosario Perlyn who as far as he knew had no Underground connections, "Soon as they get what they want this stops, right?"

Club security begrudgingly allowed him to his feet. Believing the fight finally knocked out of them they shoved him and Peyton roughly forward. Others moved in to give Tiland and Amea the same treatment but they calmly followed without any prodding. Beyond a set of heavy bulkhead doors they were marched down a long hydrostatic tunnel until they emerged into a spherical chamber surrounded by ocean on all sides.

Standing behind an open pit in the atmospheric field was a devaronian male with a missing right horn.

"I had a feeling this was you 'One Horn'," the hapan growled, "Or should I say Cygnus."

"Agent Deacon," Cygnus laughed and clapped his hands together, "One of the finest operatives the SIS ever produced. Except for me, of course. Glad you all could make it to your execution."
 

Zak Dymo

Guest
Z

The good news was that she wasn't dead.

At least, he didn't think so. He really hadn't met that many dead people though, but in his expert medical opinion, this was probably the opposite of deaditis. Instead, the decidedly not-dead girl reached up and booped him on the nose. The boy's head-tails bounced as the youth blinked, reared back, and then gave a shake of his head. Which was when the hand landed on his cheek.

Using both hands, Zak had started to move the girl's hand away. "Uh, okay," the boy murmured, as the swirls within his abyssal eyes seemed to dart about.

...he'd have to disinfect that cheek later.

Which was when a rough hand reached in and pushed the small Nautolan aside. Sliding along the floor, the young DJ found himself looking up at a burly humanoid who had a pair of something that looked like handcuffs. Zak's brow furrowed, as the boy was thoroughly confused by this sequence of events. Like, was that her boyfriend or whatever?

Then she slapped the dude, which kind of killed that idea.

Popping up to his feet, it occurred to Zak that now was probably the time to say I need an adult. Except, this was the club, which meant it was filled with people actively trying to avoid anything resembling adult responsibilities.

...was that the old tea hermit?

Focus. The not-dead-yet girl was clearly getting rough treatment at the hands of whoever this random brah was supposed to be. Drawing in a deep breath, Zak's head bounced up and down with the sound of the beat playing through the headphones on his head. Then, arms out, the boy stepped out and around into turn even as his arms made a windmill motion. Coming out of the ballet-like motion, the youth extended his arms out in parallel, palms together as he
pushed outward with the Power of Rock.

...and also possibly the Force.

"I don't think she wants to go with you, brah," the boy stated flatly.

No, seriously, that was totally the old tea hermit over there. In the club. Boomer beard and all. Like, the kark?
 
Servant Servant // Deacon // Peyton Steele // Tiland Kortun Tiland Kortun

Special agent for who was an apt question and one that Amea grew increasingly wary of the answer for. Her slender fingers curled into wetted palms as a stubby, almost toe-like pair of digits poked between her shoulder blades to push her forward. To Amea that frustration would start to heat up again, her teeth slowly gritting as the small crowd were led outside. Although miraculously spared from the sensation of being chained and shackled at the mercy of someone else, her patience began to wear thin for each time she would slow down and bump into her captor to keep the others from noticing her lack of binds.

Before the big gaping pit of certain death the situation would decide upon unravelling. The name One Horn meant nothing, and even less so the name Cygnus. Amea gave the pissed off Hapan an equally angry glance before she threw an even more bitter look at this ‘Cygnus.’ Once more the Hapan was referred to as Deacon and her head would begin to turn in the man’s direction before it promptly stopped.

A stone sunk in Amea’s heart. With the end of her relationship to a former SIS agent there were nothing but hard feelings towards the organization she held to blame for everything that had happened. Amea would have thought that in death and recuperation she would have seen the end of it and moved on. Yet that didn’t seem to be the case. Her curled up fists grew even more tense at the thought. These last few weeks had been nothing but reminder upon reminder of what she had lost, willingly, in her hopes to move on.

But the universe, much less the force, was not a place that cared for things such as emotion, or love, or peace of mind. These were the things that its practitioners cared about, that they saw in it, and that they nurtured or swore off. Yet in this very moment Amea felt the polar opposite of all said things. On the surface she would try to appear calm, yet from one second to the next she felt the urge rise within her that begged her to drop everything and let it all go again like she had once before.

“You’re fucking welcome.” She growled at the agent to bare her teeth. She was close to bursting at this point. It was just a matter of time, the last few grains of sand trickling down the metaphorical hourglass.
 
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A bemused frown transformed across Tiland's face. "Cygnus? SIS? I must say I am very confused." His voice was light and quite gentle. "I take it, of course, that you have some sort of grudge against other SIS agents?" That part was at least a little clear, even if the rest was all hazy. "And what does this have to do with that wild example of hearing loss outside?"

He raised his cuffed hands and scratched at his beard with his fingers. "Please explain and perhaps there is a solution other than violence that we can find." In one of the others nearby, he could sense a rising flood of emotions. Understandable, perhaps, if it seemed helpless. Which, by all accounts, it did. He had a trick up his sleeve of course, or rather, both sleeves, since he had unlocked his arms, and perhaps it was time to do something about it. Yet for now, the Force was telling him to wait.

There was more to this than first appeared. He had the sense that there was something else lurking beneath the surface. This Cygnus or One-Horn was consumed by anger and bitterness in his search for revenge. Yet this display of emotion and frank threats suggested he was barely keeping them in check. Hardly one for a sophisticated plot, unless everything was layers upon layers of deception, which was always a possibility.

He needed to know the truth of the mastermind behind the trap and why they were cruel enough to consider a rave the appropriate place for this showdown. He scratched his beard another time, but this time, he used the movement of the fingers to subtly wrap the Force around the various cuffs and unlock them, but he kept talking to cover any noise or suspicion. "And I must ask, whose idea was it for this rave-party thing. I must admit, I anticipated there being ravens or other birds somehow. Otherwise, I am not at all sure why it would be called rave."
 
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ObjectiveI II
Swimming with: Jic Drow Jic Drow / Janick Beauchamp Janick Beauchamp

Cool. Drifting sounded doable. So did having a life line. That seemed practical. She could get onboard with this. Wait, no, she would get offboard with this. Overboard.

"I'm helping with the research." The underwater gear still allowed her to communicate. The sentence felt strange on her tongue, but not as strange as the ebb and flow of the invisible pressure against her body. Being underwater was otherworldly and disorienting. There was no gravity here, but she wasn't as prone to floating about madly as she may have in a ship with life support cut. Still, she was pretty dependent on this Jic fellow and where they'd be going. Around them, another joined, and a few other shapes that nodded in tandem with the different roles the Tibrin native designated. Some of them gave her an indicative wave, indicating they too were part of the research team. They weren't wearing lab coats under water, so it was tricky to tell.
 

Caedyn Arenais

Guest
C
Objective: Stranger Things.
Location: Tibrin, Space.
Starship: The Repertoire.
Inventory: Spacer Attire, CS.38 & Lightsaber.
Arbiter

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"You cannot feel it? We are not alone."
Rarely was one who was sensitive to the Force, ever truly alone; However, for the sake of this argument, Caedyn had been so focused upon this particular newcomer that he had failed to pay attention to the rest of his surroundings. With the exception of the downed vessel ahead, of course. "Something out here's responsible for that wreck..." he pointed out unnecessarily stating the obvious. Strangely however, Caedyn didn't appear to be too put off by the older male's sense of caution. The Force would guide him, and warn him should he need to move swiftly, however it paid to keep a keen eye on the weather horizon and now that formalities had been dealt with, Caedyn's attention turned to the mission at hand.

Drawing his lightsaber from his belt, Caedyn began his approach towards the wrecked transport seeking to ascertain the status of the crew. He didn't ignite the blade, but merely kept it in hand as a precaution, while also glancing to either side in the case that the ship was some form of ambush. He didn't know this Arbiter well at all, but he wanted to believe that the man was sincere enough not to shoot him in the back. "Care to tell me what you've learned so far?" Caedyn asked, glancing over his shoulder to his fellow man now and atleast temporarily working under the benefit of Coalition Command. Whether or not this Arbiter fellow would continue to do so after the job was done, well, that was his business.

"From what I understand, this missing unit's some sort of research team working for the Coalition...-They didn't include the subject of field of the teams research, but unless this is an accident, perhaps it wasn't quite such a well kept secret as Coalition Command would have liked".
 

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