Dominion The Red War : Killer Blow | CIS Dominion of Loovria

[Jayde Natari]

Objective: Liberate
Tags: | Arshad Nasr | G 3 M 1 N 1 |

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"Finally..." the word slipped past Jayde's lips, broad with a smirk of delight now. As soon as the guards and slave owners and dealers seemed to realize what was going on around them chaos ensued, and chaos was Jayde's favorite tune to dance to. A lengthy dagger with delicate curve and wicked edges was pulled from its sheath and she met resistance headon as soon as she was given permission to do as such. While bodies were being flung about via Force users, Jayde's approach was more up close and personal.

The man standing between hers and her ability to release the slaves scoffed and chortled at the sight of her. Jayde wasn't exactly intimidating in features or size after all, and the blade he drew was larger than hers for certain. Still there was no hesitation in the way this Snake moved forward; she met this man, blade for blade, dancing in and out of his reach with delicate ease. It wasn't until a laugh escaped her that the man seemed to realize he was being toyed with and anger blinded him. He lunged, and while Jayde was able to evade, it wasn't entirely and the man's blade kissed her skin sharply.

That wiped the grin from her face, the amusement gone in a flash. Explicits slid from her lips in anger, not pain, and her body twisted away from another attempted to stab her, and then spun against this equally angered man until she was against his back. Again she shifted, turning to face his back and she dug her dagger to the hilt in his flesh. For just a moment she let the blade sit, let this man feel death she had dealt him, and then it was wrenched free and she was on the move again.

It didn't take long to get to where she needed to be, and even less time to get things opened up so that the slaves could start filing out. Though she took notice of the guards changing weapons as soon as she had released these people. "They're going to be open targets out here!" she shouted out to Arshad. She had nothing to protect them from blaster bolts with, and there wasn't enough stuff laying around on the ground for them all.

 

[Pyeth Raffinki]

Verul Issant Lesha Weirr

Pyeth found his attention drawn elsewhere, a swirling whirlpool of dark side energy that coalesced into a plagued gravid Rishi. Pyeth's gizzard twisted at the sight of withering masses that crawled beneath the skin. Had he only seen it he would have thought himself insane but no this malevolence he could feel clawing at his mind creating a primordial fear. He mustered his sense of duty to the flock carrying him through a brief but not insignificant battle with every instinct that told him to run.

Thankfully, the Rishii looked slain he was certain it would give him nightmares in the weeks to come. Verul looked inconvenienced by the body of a slain Thandoshan but that was the least of Pyeth's concerns. Aakley was advancing on his position perhaps noticing his shaken stature not yet recovered from the sight he witnessed and was now in range.

Two blows. The first: Aakley speared its leg where the Rishii once stood, weaving left to dodge the blow a mistake that would cost him. The second: scythed across threatening to gore or crush Pyeth with the impact, he spread his wings beating them once, the momentum to carry him back but not without cost. His downy stained red at the stomach, half a second later and he could have been dead.

Perhaps influenced by the dark side energies that still lingered he found greater strength allowing the pain to become the engine that fuelled his motion. He turned now to Lesha pulling the rope she was bundling into his hands and grunted, "Good thinking Lesha!"

"We will need all our strength to exhaust it." He added cautiously.

Pyeth opened his beak biting onto the end with a powerful snap, given time a Rishi hunter could use his beak to penetrate the shell of shore crabs back home, he trusted his beak more to hold onto the rope than his hands. Without another word, Pyeth took to the air flying low enough to the ground to begin looping the rope. It was a dangerous strategy but one that in his mind reduced the risk of further injury, and it seemed to be working. Its claws couldn't reach high enough to strike him, and he steered clear of its razors. He imagined the Aakley becoming frustrated and expected it would soon use its bulk to try and swat him from the air, or merely ignore him but hopefully by then the feline and Verul would be back in action.

 

[G 3 M 1 N 1]

LOCATION: Quintik Arena
TAG: Jayde Natari | Arshad Nasr
ATTIRE: Link​

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G3M1N1 before the command to charge rang in her ear, would pick up the chirps of the lead actors of blaster-fire framing the lead violinists opening solo heralding that this chaotic concerto which was about to begin. The faceless conductor buzzing through on coms, would shout to engage, commanding the orchestra with an aged wisdom seldom seen in the verse today. G3M1N1 was up first, the battering ram, percussion, one of several, as two medium armour battle-tanks lambasted casually before the gate surrounded with their units. Hecklers, if their position were to remain intact they could interfere with the coming performance. They would need to be seen out, or shocked into attendance with the skill of the musicians whom played before them. G3M1N1 would begin to move towards the group, sleuthing closer with the tactful guile of the stage hand, reading the bars on the world's page before her as she would await her moment. Return blaster-fire at higher frequencies, and more of it. The first applause of the crowd, resistance to a tune that confronted their perception of the world, life, and how it should be lived.​

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Walking at first, the sound of blaster fire, even though it were low enough in frequency to hide from the senses of most, the singing chirps would begin to thunder as the hecklers within the crowd before them would heighten, the instruments within the arms of G3M1N1 would charge with a rising hum. But no sooner than the group of them witnessed the percussionist approaching them, coiled fists, stalwart gait. The crowd in the throes of confusion, not knowing which way this concert would turn would raise their hands, halting the cyborg from her intended path. The obstruction was planned for, a deception on the part of the conductor, charged and primed the percussion before the strings in an aghast take on the classic antiphonal position, would see G3M's hand raise to one of the Hecklers, so close, weapons trained on her as she would raise her hands, arms bent and palms skywards. "What are you doing here? What's your purpose!?" G3 would not seek to reply, but rather, lowering her arm and aiming it directly towards the two she had lined up, the cry of the blue charric laser which would fire from her palm would echo like the cry of a thousand eagles. The kinetic force of the cymbal crash would penetrate the chest of the man who had dared to question her, the female guard behind him and burrow significantly deep into the stone behind them as the signal to the strings and winds that this performance was curtains up, time to put on a show!​

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Spinning on her heel, Micro-repulsars flaring with a burst of speed, G3 would rush towards her target, the first of the tanks outside the building. The 50cal repeating blaster turret whirling on her and spewing out its criticism at her opening act in a volley of super heated red blasts, each of a mind to end the cyborg's career should but a single of the harsh, destructive critiques land a blow. Critics... G3M1N1's art, should it not be understood by the cretins within the audience, was not of a mind to make converts of them. The humming from her right arm would reach a fever pitch as she would end her dash within a meter of the hulking behemoth of cold steel, the blaster bolts of the attacking CIS commando teams flitting into the crowd as they played their parts to the will of the grand concert. G3's Hand would raise to the most hardened part of the rear of the tank, a blue ring of Electromagnetic force welling around her palm as the second of her mastered instruments would bellow its beautiful ballad.​

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A flash of white phosphorus, as the world before her palm was bathed in blue. Steel screamed as the heckler was dragged from their seat with those who had accompanied them. Filled with the energy of the wide angle distruptor which blew apart the more lightly armoured rear of the beast, ducking just low enough as she could feel the heat of the creature's engines wash over her armour plating. Shredding some of her clothing as her blast of cacophonous sound would drown out its objections. Tearing through the insides of the machine, consuming it as it would erupt into a fireball, enveloping G3 safely as the shrapnel of its ill through through tirade would have been disintegrated by the wave of her heavy disruptor weapon. Once its final qualm fell quiet, a detonation pack turning to dust the other therion of poor taste reinforcing a return to normalcy as the lulling tunes of the charging body of the orchestra would pepper the reinforcing units at the height of the stairs, garrisoning at the gate.​

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The welcome shift of pace, Stokowskian almost would see the myriad sounds of melodies bathe the battlefield, Crossing her arms in a bow to those who had exited the arena, two empty blaster gas cartridges would unceremoniously launch from her forearms to clatter to the ground. G3M1N1 would begin to jog alongside the moving units, taking cover at the base of the steppes. A passing soldier, in a manner all to practiced would hurl a large rotating blaster rifle into the hands of G3M1N1 as she would move, joining the ranks of the strings for now, her heavy percussion stowed away for another time.​

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"As long as they can garrison at the top, we are at a disadvantage, and people within will not be able to stage an escape. I will attempt to draw their fire and disrupt them. Mark targets and take shots with care." G3 would speak with them after updates of the interior situation would be forwarded to the front lines, funneled through those who would conduct them. G3M1N1 wasn't sure whether she liked the ebb and flow of a unit who moved as one. Used to the solo act, Concerto was a new beat for her, locked in position with limited roles in which to play. The Girl within, would observe the ongoing presentation. Gem was unsure if this method they had undertaken was really the most efficient way they could have conducted the assault considering the tennor of the enemies they faced. Were they simply playing to a deaf crowd? All within save for the slaves themselves seemed outraged at their appearance as the yells and shouts were those of horror and despair rather than righteous catharsis. ​

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I prefer D minor...​

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[Verul Issant]

@ Pyeth Raffinki @Lesha Weirr



Power armor was truly a miraculous invention. The once living missile that had been a living trandoshan just a few minutes ago had impacted the metal carapace of the biologist's protective suit simply giving him what promised to be an amaranthine coating of bruises on his torso. This was infinitely favorable to his ribs being crushed by the impact however so it was not like the doctor was complaining. With his mechanical arm Verul hurled the oversized lizard carcass from himself getting back to his feet.

Lesha hadn't been phased by the newest addition to the horror show that was his existence. Damn good, if only he could get a team of people together that all had her nerves. This was Pyeths first meeting with the doctor so of course he had no prior frame of reference to the menagerie of spirits that haunted the academic. He also seemed to be working through any shock he had admirably. Right better get back to work.

Pyeth was currently soaring in the air across the colosseum riding the wind as he carried out a plan of Lesha's. A good one too none the less. Acklay for all their ferocity weren't exactly the most intelligent creatures and if one ended up getting tangled it would have a hell of a time extricating itself from its bonds. Verul made a motion to his dynamis cat companion and the feline who was hanging back returned into the fray with a vengeance. Whatever trick of the darkside that the spirit had pulled was now actively working against the acklay.

With its attention so doggedly fixed on Pyeth the beast had not time to spare for the rather sizable dynamis cat who had with the feline agility and grace of a hunting tiger leaped at the creatures side and gripped on with its talons. Charges of static electricity began to well up within the large cat as it let out a payload of voltage upon the distracted reptile. Not enough to drop the big bastard but it would certainly snap it out of its unnatural fixation on the swooping avian above it.

There was a smell not unlike cooked crab as the creatures flesh began to heat up. With a earsplitting roar the beast began to thrash trying to remove the big electric cat from its torso which clung on like a giant furry limpet. Verul looked to Lesha beore running to advance on the creature firing disorientating rounds from his arm mounted repeater.

"Lets give the Rishii the distraction he needs shall we?"

 

[Karlie Lynn Destat]

Location: In the city, about
Ship: LCX-3
Attire: Casual
Weapon: Unarmed
Tagging: Open
Post: 6

"Hey, come on guys... there's no need for any of this..." Karlie said, taking a step, then two away from one of the goons. Seemed the lot thought she posed no threat to them. At least not as much as Mason did, whom had the other two men moving in on him...and quickly.

Karlie behaved just like they thought she would, being scared and backing away from her assailant. Thus far, she really weren't going to escalate this, as she hadn't see any of them pull out a blaster-
"Grr..." Nope, she were wrong.
The two goons on Mason did just that.

"Gasp!...
Oh no mister...please...." Karlie cried out, faking her terror. It were enough to distract her assailant, letting him think she were easy prey. he didn't need no stinking blaster to take her, he must of thought.

Well, this big rat thought wrong as he went for the bait.
One could go and explain as to what followed, but sometimes it is also better to see it.

Spoiler: Some kickass

The other two goons only realized as to the hell cat they had just encountered when their buddy suddenly got dropped kicked in the face by no other than the frightened little woman.
Immediately as one took to fire at mason, the other drew his weapon on Karlie. He too quickly were met with near lightning speed foot work.
It got so entangled in a matter of a split second that her previous assailant, whom had just gotten back on his feet and had thought best to draw out his own weapon, shot his own partner in crime. Of course he hadn't meant too, but the man was trying to keep up with what was going down in a blink of an eye that he must have shot a round while he blinked.
The blaster bolt to the head certainly dropped his associate in a heart beat.
Of course, what quickly followed were the other two finding thie selves with light's out, face down on the pavement.

And of Constable Mason?
He had only had the time and means to draw out his own weapon. One which he still had in hand and were looking over at two unconscious thugs along with one missing a fair amount of hair from the hole in his head.

"Er... they weren't friends of yours, by any chance?" Karlie asked, as Mason went down and kneeled over one of the others.

"No. But they certainly have quite a few." He then said looking up at her.
"You then, Obsidian Knight?" he asked, seeing the way she took out all three by herself.

"Oh hell no.
But yea... you could say I'm from the CIS.." Well truth be told, she hardly ever went and admitted that fact. Her world were under the CIS jurisdiction. It were what she called it. But CIS she were no longer. Not in spirit anyway...not with a sith overlord overseeing every aspect of his subjugated systems.
But that was her...a disenchanted individual who only wished her world had never made a pact with the devil himself...the Vicelord.

"That man..." He motioned with his head.
"... he's one of the warlord's son...brother.... he's up there with them. Hight caste privileged. The family isn't going to be too happy about us killing him."

"Whoa... whoa... lets back up a second, constable.
See here?" Karlie pointed to self.
" No weapons.
Goon one over by your feet there, shot Goon two." Pointing to man with hole in the head.

"I know that. But you think that these two if and when they get their story straight are going to blame the other or us?"

"Ahh...you got a point there.
So...what.... we slip off somewhere...you, me disappear... part ways... what?"

"For you, maybe. But they know me.... know my family."

"Shoot..." Karlie suddenly realized the implications this man would have among a feudal like society. Especially a former constable like Mason. whom for the most part hadn't reverted back to the old caste system and slavery.

It were then that she picked up on Mason drawing his weapon to the unconscious man before him.
"Whoa!...w...what are you doing? You can't just...just kill him!"

"You think I want too?!" Mason shouted back, before he took to looking as to whom were around them. Currently no one.
"What choice do I have now? They'll talk and lay it on me...and endanger my family more so."

A moan were heard from the other man closer to Karlie's feet. He were coming to.
Karlie took a step back and knocked him out cold again with her foot. THUNK!
"Mason.... listen to me.
It's one thing defending yourself, and quite another to execute a man...even if it is a horrid man. " she said looking at the unconscious goon laying before them.
"I... I can't let you.
There has to be some other way.
How large is your family?" She then asked.

 

[Lesha Weirr]

TAG: Verul Issant | Pyeth Raffinki

This Dynamis Cat creation was truly marvelous.

As Lesha and Pyeth were moving with the makeshift rope, the electric cat launched itself at the Acklay and really did a stellar job in distracting the big crustacean while clinging to it like a lice to a Loth-cat.

The Rishii sure had a good grip on the streamer as they started weaving it around the reptile's legs. Lesha had to dart around quite a bit to avoid being stomped on as the Acklay tried to get the feline off itself, the smell seared crab hanging in the air.

After she had wound enough around the creature's legs, Lesha dashed underneath its belly to reach Pyeth's side of the Acklay.
"Doctor, get your cat off it! This thing is gonna hit the ground very hard!" she shouted as she wound the rope around her dominant hand while jumping out of the way as a pincered foot came down towards her.
"Pyeth! Get ready to pull this Moof-milker to the ground!" she then called to the Rishii.

When the Dynamis Cat was clear, Lesha planted her feet.
"Now!" she called to Pyeth.
She pulled with all of the strength she could muster. With the help of the Rishii's strong beak and ability to fly, the feet dug furrows in the ground as they started moving underneath its own body.

Almost in slow motion, the great bulk started falling away from them, as the crustacean was unable to untangle itself and was losing its balance. Lesha sincerely hoped Verul had scrammed away from the falling reptile.

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

S P E C T A T E​

Loovria
The Grand Stands, Colosseum



Between the bright sun, the sand and dust of the Gladiatorial Pits, and the fetid stench of those around her covered in sweat, booze, and all manner of other disconcerting materials and fluids - she wasn't rather too pleased about having decided to assist the Confederacy in bringing peace back to the planet. Truth be told - she would have preferred to evacuate anyone worth their weight in salt and bombarded the rest to answer for their crimes of slavery and profiting from flesh. However, as she was so informed, it was apparently highly looked down upon to glass a planet merely for the act of slavery - a belief that she greatly disagreed with though would not argue against given that she was now sitting quietly in the Grand Stands. From time to time - and she was thankful for it - there was a sweet scent of roses and lavender that seemed to waft through the air, cutting through the other offending scents that had been throwing her mind for a loop.

While others had taken up the more respectable martial attempts - her golden-yellow hues having already fallen upon a few Confederates that had found their way into the pits with their own means and focus to achieve success - she had gone a different route and thought that perhaps a more sultry tone and carefully placed words would draw others towards the cause of abolition that the Confederacy of Independent Systems was championing. However, it seemed to be the more threatening and risky of the decisions beyond just all-out fighting - and she could respect how difficult of a job Diplomacy really was outside of the lavish meeting rooms, drinks, and parties that many Diplomats seemed to find themselves attending. For her part, she was seeking those that had not yet decided or would be easier to sway towards other ways of thinking, ways that would not only see Slavery abolished on Loovria, but, would also keep their Gladiatorial Pits open and thriving - without the slaves and prisoners.

The Confederacy of Independent Systems was well known for their Droid Production - having ensured that the vast majority of their armed forces were, in some manner, completely automated. Though she still had her own misgivings about having an entire fighting force of droids - which was why there was still a notable presence of organic units within the Confederate Armed Forces - the droids were able to fill in when it was otherwise too dangerous or in some cases - such as slave fighting - too immoral to send an organic being. Of course, there were those Droid Rights Groups that had also been cropping up from time to time - and their own arguments were difficult to otherwise counter, even more so when many claimed that the utilization of droids and their construction was tantamount to Slavery in and of itself. However, those were philosophical questions to be tackled another day - and at the moment - they were not what she was focused upon.

Rather, she found herself focused upon the shade that she had managed to claim to keep her out of the sun - offering a soft smile and a kind wink to the noble that had so freely and willingly provided the seat to her as he now seemed to swelter beneath the beating sun of the afternoon. She already had whispered a few sweet words into the ears of those around her - speaking on how Gladiator Droids would be far superior to slaves and prisoners - as after all, droids never truly died. What was the point in spending credits upon credits on training your favorite slave just to potentially lose them in the fighting pits from a lucky or even more highly trained slave or prisoner? It was a question that she spoke in hushed whispers and tones.

As she leaned back in the shade, slipping one leg over the other and allowing her arms to carefully relax against the step behind that she had her back pressed up against - she carefully watched and silently admired some of her fellow confederates fighting in the Pits. Of course, she had her own preferences when it came to fighting - that being - having herself firmly planted on the bridge of a starship and facing the chaotic waxing and waning of stellar engagements - she still had great respect for those that often found themselves fighting planetside. Though she wasn't so calloused as to place a bet on any of the Confederates... was she?

Of course, she hadn't, though that wasn't to say that the thought hadn't developed in her mind - which in turn required that it be pushed further back into the darker recesses in which it could be forgotten. No, Amelia, and by extension, much of the Confederacy had arrived on the planet to shut down the Slave Trade and the barbaric practice of the Gladiatorial Pits that had managed to re-establish themselves after the collapse of the Outer Planets Alliance. She had to admire the people of Loovria, however, having so quickly established the fighting pits in the mere months since the collapse of the Outer Planets Alliance - as their lack of oversight had prevented the fighting pits from operating during their tenure of the planet. She found it rather amazing that the people were so industrious and bloodthirsty, that they brought the pits back in such short order. Either way, the Confederacy was now there to bring order back to the planet, and part of that consisted of removing the slavery that fueled the fighting pits.

And, as the thought remained of replacing the slaves with droids, she once more began to whisper in hushed tones. Leaning forward and permitting her lips to brush against the noble's ears, she spoke of how the Confederacy could bring them greater prosperity. How they could double, if not triple or even quadruple their credits if they just had the audacity and tenacity to demand that slavery was brought to an end. She didn't expect many of them to relent, after all, it was a difficult thing to give up possessions - and her own species had a storied and rather close relationship with slavery in their ancient past - a relation that ultimately cost them their planet. Perhaps then she could hint at that fear, the fear of losing Loovria all together if they kept the institution of Slavery alive and well...

Chaos NaNo: 1,091​

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[Arshad Nasr]

TAG: Jayde Natari | G 3 M 1 N 1

He heard Jayde's concern.

She was right. With a firing squad, the freed slaves would be sitting ducks. Arshad's squad was still fighting their way through the entrance. The aged warrior sighed.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

The Ra'Kathan did not particularly enjoy wielding the Dark Side, but he was still able nonetheless. He unleashed a salvo of Force-lightning at the surrounding Guards, the bolts leaping from one to the next, cooking them in their armour.
"Bring them out, little Jayde! The immediate threat has passed!" he called to her.

The young Viper had impressed him today. She was ruthless and did not hesitate with her blade. She had been taught well. It was good to see that the Aran'Kha have not dropped their standards. If they yielded more warriors like the little Snake, then the defensive force on Ra'Katha would be formidable indeed.

The battle-hardened warrior had also taken notice of one of the hired mercenaries, a cyborg, that had breached the entrance with fanfare. She seemed to know her way around a weapon as well, which could be nothing but an asset. It had won them some time, at least.

Arshad moved to the next pit. With a wave of a hand, he released them of their shackles.
"Make for the secured exit." he told them.
He then turned to G 3 M 1 N 1 . "Help Jayde get these people to safety, Mafaqha." he told her, as she was indeed an escort.

 

[G 3 M 1 N 1]

LOCATION: Quintik Arena
TAG: Jayde Natari | Arshad Nasr
ATTIRE: Link
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As the units began their charge to take an exit, G3 would charge with them, laying down covering fire with her repeating blaster, pointing in the general direction of the crowd sitting in the box seats above them, the chirping blaster bolts sang their splendid melody sweetly, serenading the audience with its delicate psalm. Fifty rounds became a hundred, two hundred, a solo which would drown out their position with the belt fed blaster weapon which would sing loudly until the bridge broke. Silence hung in the air for a moment, but the reaction of the crowd would return in thunderous applause. Hurling red roses towards the crowd which assaulted them, showering their reaction down upon the soldiers from on high... But it was time to meet their applause, and cut directly into the second act.

Blasters thundered down, several focusing on G3 as she would rush their position with all of the speed she had in her, darting to and fro as her hands would hum with the force of a natural bolt of lightning. The applause of the box crowd was touching, leaving its marks on G3 as she would make her approach, she could feel her chest tighten as black scorch marks peppered her frame. While she was resistant to the awe of a crowd like this, many of her comrades were star-struck, floored stunned or worse by the volley which had rained down on them. While the hecklers had been dealt with, the crowd themselves to which the orchestra played were less than amenable. Casting her sights upon the first box, left of center stage she would fire one of the barbed coils at her knuckles outwards. Targetting one of the men that was peering over with a rifle aiming to fire at one of G3's comrades.

The hook buried itself in, delivering its charge through the creature's body in a thundering cymbal crash. the crowd responded, firing at G3's chest as she would let her legs slide forward from under her, the cord reeling in as she would grind along the ground a few steps until she would reach the base of their raised cover. Landing a leg into its stone she would vault up and over it. Making contact with the face and shoulder of two of its audience members. The careful grace of the dancer as the cymbal crashes came down twice again, leaving them speechless by the performance, until the end of their days. In close range combat, G3 had the advantage, pushing her offensive with thundering strikes she would only need to grace the skin of an enemy to drop them with the lightning that danced between her fingers. Spinning however, one of the gunners would level a rifle at hip height. Blasting it into G3's stomach five hits scoring her directly until she reeled in her cord again. Hauling the body of the man she'd secured before into her hands as a shield from the criticism's of the crowd. Armour integrity was low now. Not looking good.

In the brief interlude, G3 would look up to the sovereigns whom they were intending to protect, many of them were being funnelled towards the entrance they were have meant to secure by now. But while G3 could handle this pillbox on her own, she could not handle the other half dozen which lay in and around the entrance. Two heavy gunners also lay pearched at the top, recently set up with high caliber weapons. If the tanks were the hecklers, these were the critics. Subtle, mingling with the crowd but with the power to bring the show down with them if they were not sated quickly enough. It was nice to be drawing these forces out now though, G3 and her troupe had attracted their attention, this was excellent. But she would need to call this one in to the shows manager.

"G3 reporting from the exit, our men are pinned down with heavy resistance at an elevated position, Attempting to cut off the heavy guns, but if the indoor crew could give us a breath, we can take this in a heartbeat."

Slaves that were taking their chances were already trying to slip past their defences only to be shot in the back with the hail of blaster bolts which rained down upon the advancing forces. G3 would thrust the body she held into the man blasting her at point blank range. Engaging the electricity across the chord to have it flow through the two of them and end their collaboration for the mean time. Wrenching her chord free she would strip the men here of grenades, seven in total, as she would analyze their weight, shape, payload and activation method before looking around at the other locations... It was time for the big finish, the stage hadn't been approved for a pyrotechnical display, but, with critics of this caliber hiding among the crowd, the orchestra needed to spare no expense on turning them aside.

 

[Eternal Belligerence]

LOOVRIA

Defiance.

That was all that was needed to open the eyes of those baying for blood on Loovria. It was all that was needed for the oppressed to rise up against Xexus and his minions. To show that the people were done dying for his entertainment.

The Confederacy has shown that they could be relied upon to help fight oppression within the Galaxy. By defending the oppressed on Loovria, they have secured a friendly presence on the ancient Gladiator world.

The mission has been a bloody one. Scenes have been witnessed and actions have been done to haunt the liberators for some time. But Loovria's cry for help has successfully been answered and the planet has been welcomed into the fold of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.

OOC Note: With the completion of the Defiance objective, this Dominion is being submitted for judging. But by no means is the story over. Please continue to write your stories and to still help liberate the slaves from the yoke of oppression.

 

[Karlie Lynn Destat]

Location: In the city, about
Ship: LCX-3
Attire: Casual
Weapon: Unarmed
Tagging: Open
Post: 7

"OK...so I didn't come with a large ship.
I can't take your entire family off world. But it still isn't right in executing these other two, Mason" Karlie were arguing as she helped the former constable drag the unconscious bodies off into the darker part of the alleyway.
The dead guy...the one who's own associate had accidently shot him in the head during the scuffle had already been temporarily stuffed into Mason's speeder trunk.

It were a complicated situation that Karlie had found herself in. One of the three men whom had confronted her and Mason had been accidently shot by the other in the ensuing fight. The dead man according to Mason was connected by blood to one of the currently upper caste families who had taken over Loovria after the collapse of the Outer Planets Alliance.
Although the CIS unofficially were setting sights on indoctrinating the system into it's ranks, there were yet any full scale liberation forces.
Karlie had come to the system to see for herself and evaluate the situation on behalf of Castagne. Which by the way she had not been officially assigned to investigate, nor had been given any authorization to act on behalf of Castagne or the CIS.
Now they had a dead man on their hands with connections to a powerful family which had been responsible for reverting Loovria back to it's dark past.

One of the two unconscious goons were heard moaning as he were undoubtedly coming too.
Mason went over to the man, and belted him across the head with the but end of his blaster.
"You know I can't do this forever. Either I eventually crack his skull open and then we'll have another dead body to dispose of, or we just save the trouble and put two rounds in each of their heads and call it a day." Mason said.

"And what...we never saw each other?..just like that?
So seriously; what would make you any more different than these three..er, the two still breathing?" Karlie asked.

"Look, the fact of the matter is that we didn't shoot the guy. But these two will certainly tell a different story.." Mason went on again..

"Yes...shiet!" Karlie cussed, trying to think of a way out for Mason.
"Ok...
Ok, hear me out. I can't take you and twenty something of your family in my ship. And the fact that half of them may not want to leave anyway....I got that, yes.
But..
But if we can package these other two goons, I can so fly them out of here...somewhere..."

"If they aren't dead, they'll come back soon enough.... or the Dolta family will somehow get them tracked down....found...then bingo, back around framing me and my family.
Look miss...Karlie whatever your name is. Why the heavy conscious? These goons are nothing more than slavers. They've destroyed families...many families...enslaved them...separated them...they don't deserve to be breathing!." Mason was getting tired of arguing with her.

"I know...
I know.
But it shouldn't be up to us to judge them, then just execute them. You should know this mason as you're an officer of the law. "

"There is no more law here on Loovria."

"But there is you. And you are not lawless."

"And you aren't CIS.... I know that these three would have been dealt with accordingly...with blaster bolts to their head. Where are you from, Karlie?"

"Sigh... from a system that was once as lawless as it is here. But that were thousands of years past. I would like to think that there would be no way for me or my people to return to that era again...like it is here on Loovria, Mason." she then replied.

Mason put away his blaster, nodding.
"Then maybe with your help...if you wish to remain here and help me...we'll find another means of keeping these two on ice."

 

[Pyeth Raffinki]

Watching Verul command his beast was a sight to behold that left Pyeth wondering the sort of relationship he had with the animal. Was it born from respect, perhaps there was something else at play?

Regardless, he was relieved when the feline engaged the crustacean. The Doctor was no slouch either, firing off rounds that impacted its armoured body with a heavy thump.

"Thank you," Pyeth said in a muffled hoot, he wasn't sure the Doctor or feline would hear it, but he hoped they would at least understand.

When the order came, the Rishii knew he lacked the weight to impede the creature. Hastily, scanning the arena for something to anchor himself to, he spotted a barred window. A suitable spot, he threw his weight forward, wrapping his talons around the iron bars and gripping them in a vice-like grip.

"You got it Lesha," Pyeth replied, dragging the rope back.

His muscles ached from the strain, and pain formerly forgotten returned two-fold, the rope felt light in his beak, and his hands and a cold sweat sent shivers over his body.

No. Pyeth growled mentally, he would not take the easy way out, abandoning his flock to deal with his shortcomings. Channelling his frustrations, he reinforced what little strength remained to delay the inevitable just long enough for the rope to go slack.

The crustacean had fallen, but it wasn't the only one. Pyeth felt the cold steel slip from his grip, falling a short distance before panic forced a reaction. Instinctively spreading his wings to slow his descent, he landed with a thud stumbling several feet before catching himself against a pillar panting as he tried to recover his breath.

"Fine... work... what's the plan now?" He asked, not expecting a reply.

Verul Issant Lesha Weirr