Populate The Red War: Riot on First || CIS Populate of Barkesh

[Darth Metus]

LESSU - OUTSKIRTS (NPC)

What is this heresy?

The rebuke rolled from her tongue as a curse. Isley's shade was surprised that thunder and lightning did not strike as she spoke. Elyria had every right to be cross at the sight before her eyes. She had reduced herself to mortality in the hopes of saving Ryloth. In the hopes of helping his home. And yet, nothing had changed. It was an unacceptable state of affairs. Immediately she questioned the ones responsible, and Isley motioned with his chin towards the sole gem amongst the coal.

"If I had to guess, the one they chose to lead them." he began. "Seems like, in the wake of the attack, they voted out the old leadership and put in someone with honied words and empty promises."

What else save poor leadership could be responsible for this mess?

Elyria demanded them fired. The Shade gave a solumn nod. "I'm currently giving them enough rope to hang themselves. But politics can be slow."

He pointed to the chaos below.

"Is there anything we can do now to help with this?"​

Darth Elyria​

 

[Darth Elyria]

Tag: Darth Metus
Attire: Black Itchy Frock
Location: Rooftop w/Isley Shade Projection [Ooga, Booga - Happy Halloween]

There wasn't anything he could have said to repair the damage that had been done. In her eyes—This was just one more example of disloyalty and hubris of would-be usurpers and naysayers. They crowed and cawed about how much better off they would be without Darth Metus at the helm of their insipid, leaky little boat, and this was the result? Unrest? Peasants, rioting?

This was inconceivable.

Elyria had come a long way from thinking of mortal men and women as a consistent food source, but she still had difficulty thinking of them as peers. She had more power than any of them would ever dream of. This gave her the ego of a deity, plus, the fact that she was the wife-consort of the future leader of the known galaxy…It was a recipe for a superiority complex.

At best—People offered her amusement. It was part of the reason she had agreed to venture away from Sinners Well at such short notice. She liked it there, with the beasts, the white rabbit left behind. Here?

At this moment? With streets full of smoke, screaming, and absolute poverty?

It did not amuse her.

"Do they understand that I consume both flesh and soul for little more than the crime of glancing unwanted in my direction?", Elyria questioned, petulantly, and with no small amount of disgust. She was monumentally self-possessed and regardless her diminished state she still seemed to view herself as the god-king of the universe. Sort of like a holo-star, though, not as bad. A little more violent. "What are they doing?"

"Why do they fight amongst themselves. I do not understand."

What purpose did it serve? If it was a faulty leader—Why not fight them? Certainly, they had the means. Throat slitting gorilla warfare had worked for them the last time. Isley explained something incredibly dreadful about it being a political problem and her eyes rolled heavenward. Of course, it was.

The gruesome shadow of her past-tense-future-present-paramour asked if there was anything they could do about the current mayhem and her only response was an upraised eyebrow. What could stop them from fighting, screaming, and tearing at one another like wounded, wild animals?

"An act of God, perhaps."

A storm. A flood. Day, becoming night.

Pity.

Mercy.

If only she could grasp the concepts.

 

[Darth Metus]

LESSU - OUTSKIRTS (NPC)

Do they not understand...

The question caused the Shade to utter a bemused chuckle. They did not understand. Hell, it took Isley quite some time just to understand the depths of her power. When first she wandered into his life, he had breached her realm with blade in hand. He thought she was a demon. He did not understand. Even at his best, she had him beat by miles. On their first meeting, he was a flea on the back of a dragon. There was nothing he could have done.

It was almost poetic in a way. The people below were burning and fighting, but did not know that a deity stood looking over them. At least, for the most part, she was on their side. The Shade lowered himself to a crouch. "Protesting." was his answer. "The people have the right to air their grievances with their leadership. It's what separates us from the Empires that have dominated the stars for centuries."

"But all it takes is one man picking up a rock for a peaceful protest to become this. Now the worser nature of everything and everyone leaks out. The meaning behind their fight is lost. The news will report on this negatively, calling good people rioters and thugs. And in turn, the Galaxy will be okay with them being handled brutally. In the end, this powder keg reduces their cause to ash."

A heavy sigh escaped him. When he mentioned the cause as being political, he could feel the woman's eye roll. And when he asked about what they could do in the moment? She suggested an Act of God.

She never joked. Well, not when she was in a mood.

"Oh?" he answered, intrigued.

"I've no desire to kill them...but do go on."​

Darth Elyria​

 

[Darth Elyria]

Tag: Darth Metus
Attire: Black Itchy Frock
Location: Rooftop w/Isley Shade Projection [Ooga, Booga - Happy Halloween]

Was Isley truly asking her to sacrifice herself for his precious Ryloth a second time? She shifted from her position on the rooftop and her arms crossed tighter for a moment. Could she, would she, give of herself again? Elyria was not recovered. What would be left of her if she tried? The Vicelord held affection for this world, this shell, and thusly she was also driven to care.

Though it left her feeling filthy she could not strike out at it. There was too much…Sentiment.

She was adapting.

Adapting, was compromise. Elyria compromised for no one. Perhaps there was another word for what was happening to her for each day she spent in this time. "I am learning.", she announced, full, of determination and pride with something he may not grasp. "When the galaxy met me, it shuddered. Groaned. It knelt at my feet."

"This is not a "Penthouse" letter as I've told you a thousand years from now—But a fact."

She paused at his explanation of the current state of affairs. It was a wicked thing for a leader to decide they suddenly weren't going to care for their constituents. It was a duty they had accepted. A duty that must be performed, regardless, the difficulty. It was simply the way.

"I am learning. I cannot break, all things."

Elyria shuffled from one foot to the other while watching the crowd and her hair began to tug at the edge of the building as if to go down. To be among the people—The masses, to be close to their pain. This was turning violent. The galaxy would make these people beasts. It would besmirch, Isley.

She could not have that.

"We cannot drown it. Violence will only add to their malcontent. Their rage comes with no more malice than a viral phage. It is there because that is what is designed to do—Not because they want it."

And the more it rose, the more the crowd followed. It swelled like an ocean tide. At any other time in anyone else's backyard, she might have chortled and enjoyed it. Elyria was unpredictable, dangerous, too powerful a being, and it was no small wonder that Isley had come to kill her at first. She had always foreseen his curiosity, though. Never his blade, "Then we will put them down another way."

Elyria leaned forward and her hair began to crawl with her as she walked vertically down the side of the building as if gravity shifted with her. If they could not calm themselves she would help them do so.

 

[Darth Metus]

LESSU - OUTSKIRTS (NPC)

The primordial woman had a way with words.

She spoke - and the Shade was content to listen. That is, until she quipped about her presence not being a penthouse letter. That tickled the man's funny bone in a way that forced him to clear his throat. She was being literal. Deliberate. He was being a child. There was no better description for their relationship on a daily basis. The mirth briefly interrupted his explanation of the protests occurring below. And the end result was a simple truth.

Elyria was learning that she could not break all things.

This was a lesson that Isley had to learn the hard way. He had been Mand'alor once. He had been King of a people that would rampage across the stars and feed their conquests to the engine of war. In those days, he thought that violence could solve everything. That breaking all opposition could solve everything. He learned rather quickly that sometimes, the pen was indeed mightier than the sword. In the case of present, perhaps their Act of God could be something not Old Testament.

Being the child that he was, the shade's dominant hand reached up as she shuffled. His whispy palm passed clean through her posterior, a fact which made his muted smirk grow.

"After this is done, you can always break me."

There was a reason the Well was devoid of visitors.

Rising, the Shade then followed suit. As Elyria's locks moved of their own accord, Isley simply stepped off of the side of the building. Gravity did not work nearly as effectively upon this form, allowing him to descend as a feather to the ground. He nodded in agreement - violence would only escalate the violence. And as she said, they would have to do something different.

"Calm, perhaps? Or something different?"

She always kept him guessing.​

Darth Elyria​

 

[Darth Elyria]

Tag: Darth Metus
Attire: Black Itchy Frock
Location: Rooftop w/Isley Shade Projection [Ooga, Booga - Happy Halloween]

It wasn't the usage of the Force that allowed the Confederacy to keep this plucky little boat of neutrality and pseudo-goodness above water. It was manpower. Time, effort.

But the Force certainly didn't hurt.

The black-haired woman could feel the energy that wound all living things together. It touched an angry and loud man with small children's legs attached to the back of his head. Strange, race. They had more feeling in their tentacles than they had in the rest of their body. They were a flawed design, but they were people. They were alive. And thus—susceptible to her being. "I've come to learn how irreversible the works of time are…", she called to the specter that floated with her, beside her, while she walked toward the angry crowd below. "But I still intend to alter them as I see fit."

She was only bothered by this fighting because she was bothered.

It sounded far too close to human. That was something she never wanted to be. Elyria couldn't even remember her own name. Not the one she had been born with. She knew only Elyria. That and the pet name one of her beloved sons had provided so long ago: Selene.

Was Selene not the mother? Mother, maiden, crone? Protector and leader of the hunt? It was all a ridiculous bunch of myths and superstition but she accepted the role nonetheless. Her head tilted while the shade continued to laugh at her words, truthfully, as he always did. "What is so humorous, Isley?", she questioned, while a light wind caused her hair to flow like gossamer silk spider-web.

She paused in her descent when a ghostly hand clapped her rather indecently on her shapely backside. For a moment, Elyria debated on blasting the ghost of Isley back to the meeting from whence he first projected—But she withheld. Eyes full of night and stars glared at him while threatening to drink him down, before abruptly, her rage melted and she shrugged. "That is an accurate statement."

He made a worthy guess toward her intent and the pale-skinned Sith made her way toward the crowd. Calm? "Something like that.", she responded, briefly, before wisps of black magic began to leave her fingertips while a soft song began to emit from the back of her throat. It couldn't be called beautiful but it could sure as hell be called haunting. As she moved her fingers, the darkness spread, and began to weave through the crowd. From person to person, cooling their ire, as they touched.

Anger would soften to passion. Rage, to determination. A scream to a murmur while even the most violent of them would feel compelled to put their weapon down. Now, they would use their inside voices instead of their outside voices. One by one, the ants would march, follow, and take her lead. They weren't altered in any way. Merely, brought back to the purpose.

The reason for their outrage.

What was more important? Fighting each other, or, fighting for the restoration of their home?

 

[Darth Metus]

LESSU - OUTSKIRTS (NPC)

She had learned how irreversible the works of time were...

That meant, she intended to act. In such a manner that the consequences could be felt across the ebb and flow of history. She knew, more than most, that every decision - especially here - could have ramifactions for tomorrow. Every word forms a wrinkle. Every step forms a ripple. She intended to make a wave. And he would stand at her side whilst she acted. Of course, while Isley was acting himself momentarily, she was steadfast in her dominance.

She turned - hair moving much akin to a beast from a literal nightmare. That stole the laughter from his lungs and caused him to raise his hands surrender. "I can't help that you make me happy." This extension of himself could have been blown away by a breeze from the woman. She knew this. He knew this. And her obsidian gaze said as much.

But, at the very least, she spared him for the moment. Though relieved, the man offered a light wink after her words. "What a woman."

As descent gripped them, his guess was in the same zip code as her intention. Her hands extended. A haunting lullaby slithered from her lips. And magick began to weave. Isley could see the work of her efforts - a wave of darkness which cooled heads and turned anger to calm. Yet the naked eye would see nothing. They would only feel the war in their chest being relaxed.

They would know clarity.

And one by one, their heads lifted. Their gazes shifted. All upon the beacon where the meetings were taking place.​

Spoiler: TL;DR

- Calming effect is sweeping through the population.

Darth Elyria | Runar Ulfsson | Kaira Vinesse | Subject 73 Red | Rayna Lockley | Zohar | Ruus Kote | Cordelia Malkavian | Rience​

 

[Felix Aquila]

P A R L A Y ?​

Location: Lessu
Tag: Alessandra Creed Kyyrk Darth Metus Lilicky Hypatia Sovis
Equipment:

• - Light-saber
• - Personal Shield
• - Armourweave Clothing

Atop an adjactent building, the silvery sheen of a long steel cylinder was removed from a case,
An insignia of an eagles talon and an orange diamond printed proudly upon it.
​

Isley Verd, simply put was one of the most powerful men in the Galaxy, despite rumors to the contrary, it was no understatement to make the claim that he had been the architect of the golden age of the Confederacy. Him, with his immediate allies had forged powerful bonds with other factions which had seen this one flourish to the point it was the single most powerful and bounteous community in the galaxy, in no small part because he had sat at its head.

Politically, Isley Verd was a giant, when it came to raw power, Felix considered him little more than a legend. So, to be facing the man across the table, dealing with him directly as he would liaise for his home-world. The Knight Obsidian would be a little starstruck. There had been a time where Felix had wanted to catch this mans' eye, to be his apprentice and learn everything he could. He could have only imagine the heights to which he would have climbed to get there. Unfortunately, it hadn't come to pass... "Well, i didn't get this far on my looks." He'd jeer, a little nervously.

His greeting was warm as the morning sun, a force of charismatic eloquence that seemed to know no barrier as the Viceroy would bow her head to greet him as he would pull on her vanity. Felix would offer a hand to shake, and when it was done. Be seated as the primary terms were discussed. He'd compare Ryloth to Rodia, a comparison that would see a visible twitch in the Countesses demeanor, and nearly bring the young Aquila to a chuckle.

But as he would continue his proposal, Felix would look back to the countess, watching her mind tick over the points in her head. She'd Call Felix's ear to him and he would oblige, speaking softly so not to be heard. She would ask about the implications of the audit, what it would entail, and Felix in turn would tell her it would mean handing over documents of all spending to date with the money that had been given, and working with them to assess how it had all been spent equitably. The Countess would smile broadly, with an almost childlike glee as she would confer her intent to Felix, who would once again speak to the table. Sans a visible crack in his hospitable mask as of yet.

"Our Viceroy apologizes for what may seem like negligence but allow us an explanation. That unlike Rodia, much of the infrastructure of Ryloth is exceedingly complex, and unlike Rodia Ryloth has had to rebuild much of its leadership from those who deigned to volunteer, learning from nothing after so many nobles were killed or left... And there have been more than a few who have challenged those who graciously rose their hands in service to this world. So, knowing this, we would like to humbly acce~"

The doors would open, and a younger, confident blue Twi'lek would enter, followed by a small confused little creature. Felix's attention fell to the little Ropo for a moment, warring flashbacks of a Duck and meddlesome Bunn1 droids flashed past his eyes causing him to visible shake off the memories as he would focus on the meetings intruder, realizing a little too lat who this was... Feth... Looking back to the Countess, she looked as though she would strangle the girl, whoever she was, Felix hoped that her family had a well paid second to stand in for her. Because the honor duel challenges would be coming her way in droves.

But it would be Alessandra Creed 's acknowledgement of her that would spark outrage from the Viceroy. Standing starkly adroit and looking to the young politician as they flaunted the support of the people.

"Indeed Miss Creed, lets see what someone who has the support of the people has to say. Would you not agree that a substantial relief and reparations fund would be precisely what Ryloth needs right now? Military contracts for the building of droids so that we might contribute to our allys plights with no risk to Rylothian life, Factory expansion, jobs, and so much more. All simply for an audit?" Felix was more than aware of the Countesses intentions, she had long spent more money on god hiring the best bankers and accountants in the world to hide her embezzlement's as well as the ones of her friends. She was confident that cash sinks and more could be drafted as soon as they were needed, if they weren't already. Fabricated, but substantiated through control over Ryloths' own system, so, who could know? It wasn't like Ryloth had profits to report to the Ministry of Commerce, it was a broken, bankrupt planet.

And the perfect place to become a hedonistic dictator.

All eyes would move to the representative of the people, Felix could feel a massive weight compressing his chest, his heart beating faster and his eyes looking a little frantically towards his own watch. He had done everything in his power to get the Viceroy in this room as well as himself surrounded by witnesses to suggest he was agreeing with her, helping her in every way as a trusted ally... All lined up perfectly, until this person interrupted...

​

 

[Kyyrk]

E S C O R T
​

There was no denying the guilt Kyyrk felt. He'd barely spoken to Alessandra, this much was true. But his fears and anxiety were rising with each passing second. The presence of the Vicelord made it worse. Isley knew. Alessandra did not. And if the man's character and history were called into question? There was no way she would not learn of it. And what would she think of him then?

As their eyes met, Kyyrk offered her a soft smile. Much like her, Kyyrk smelled a rat. But where, he did not know. His eyes flicked back toward Felix and the countess as he turned and began pacing in front of the door. Boredom. His hands moved slightly as he secretly tapped out a message on his wrist-comm.

//I'm gonna need a drink when this is all over...//

The invitation to join him was implied, but it was one he was hopeful Alessandra would pick up on. Kyyrk seemingly paid little mind to the presence of the small furred creature that entered, and only a momentary glance was offered to the other Twilek. She wasn't armed. So Kyyrk would allow her to stay. But there was a nagging sensation at the back of his mind. Something else was out there. The individuals in the room were in danger. But he could not identify why. Those inside the room were trustworthy enough. So Kyyrk closed his eyes, casting his senses beyond the room...

Alessandra Creed || Darth Metus || Felix Aquila || Hypatia Sovis || Lilicky

 

[Kaira Vinesse]

TAG(S): Runar Ulfsson | Ruus Kote Subject 73 Red | Rayna Lockley | Darth Elyria | Zohar | Cordelia Malkavian | Rience

Everything happened so fast. The folly of commotions made everything into a blur, but before Kaira would have any time to dwell on the happenings, the adrenaline and her training would take over launching her into action.

She’d fire off a few stun shots in the direction from whether the blaster fire was coming, yet only one shot would connect with a target. The other two shots would simply impact into a duracrete wall and do nothing. She then ducked behind a duracrete barrier that had been set up upon their arrival. An extra means to funnel the ground and protect unsuspecting bystanders from harm, but also for their own protection in the off chance that something actually did happen. Something along the lines of what they were experiencing now.

As she gathered her wits once more, Kaira scanned the area for her friends. The team she was a part of.

“Are you serious?” The disbelief swept over her and she saw Runar Ulfsson hurt. Yet again. “Can you do anything without getting yourself shot anymore?” She rushed to his side as the contingent of droids attempted to carall the situation. This wound was worse than the one he’d take on Farboon. Instead of the armpit, an area isolated from vital organs, this shot had connected with the man’s abdominal area. She had to work quickly or else risk something far worse happening to her team member.

Swiftly she pulled a number of medical supplies from her kit and promptly began to work on Duran. Do what she could to stabilize the man and prepare him for more proper medical attention.
​

​

 

[Ruus Kote]

OBJECTIVE​

Friendly Units:​

• Strill Securities Jurkad Verde Shere'shoy Mechanized Infantry Battlation (all companies deployed across various sectors)

Tag(s): Runar Ulfsson | Subject 73 Red | Rayna Lockley | Zohar | Laertia Io | Darth Metus | Darth Elyria ​

​

​

Spoiler: Equipment

​

• Armor:
  • 'Verd'jurkad'gam'
    • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher
    • PC-05V Plasma Caster
    • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
    • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
      • Surveillance Tagger Darts (2)
      • Electro Darts (2)
      • Explosive Darts (4)
• Weapons:
  • B-01M Beskad
  • M-06S 'Skirata' Mra'jitr (2)
  • RP-05A Ripper Pistol w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' Short Range Optic
  • AR-2CQB Verpine Assault Rifle w/ UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher and 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' Medium Range Optic
• Explosives:
  • 3x CryoBan Grenades
  • 3x Glop Grenades
  • 2x Smoke Grenades
  • 2x Class-A Thermal Detonator
  • 2x Det-Packs
  • Implants:
    • 'Verd' Enhancement Package
    • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• Equipment:
  • 'Lirsa' Tactical/Riot Shield

​

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"Blaster fire," came the calm report over the command freq from Shereshoy Besh Solus' platoon leader. The sheer presence of the five IFVs and the report of their weapons had chased off many of those who weren't quite content to tussle with the recently arrived backup. These were the smart ones. The di'kute [1] were the ones that had stayed yet. Of those that'd stayed, there were the ones who thought it was a good idea to try and rush the shield line, and those that were content to hurl projectiles at the wall. Both of the former found out how electrostun rounds and Glop grenades felt. ​

​

The call of blaster fire changed things. Looks like some shabuire were taking the opportunity to try and make things so much worse for themselves. "You know the RoE, you see a weapon, shabla drop them," he snapped off in response. A few magazines were swapped in the process, his men maintaining a balance of electrostun rounds and lethal rounds loaded in their weapons. Just for situations like this, they were all carrying company manufactured Verpine shatter weapons of varying configurations. ​

​

Still, things weren't quite going 'well', but the situation took a turn in the direction of the decidedly odd, yet positive, when his beskar'gam's scanners picked up what looked like some sort of advanced droid. It took his armor's Manda module a few moments to identify it, but a moment later it resolved as a 'Neutralizer' droid, designed by Laertia Io . Ruus had no idea what the shabla [2] thing was doing here. Last he'd heard, it's designer had been exiled from CIS space for being responsible for part of the reason they'd had to evacuate hastily at Rhand. Ruus didn't trust the thing as far as he could throw it, but given it was being decidedly helpful at the moment, he decided to ignore it, for now. ​

​

What was still bothering him however, was that there was no response from the comm unit whose transponder code identified it's user as ARCOM special forces corporal Runar Ulfsson . What the corporal's situation was, he couldn't tell. Normally, he'd take Jintar, Ghes and a squad and go looking, but this crowd was out of order. None of them were afraid of killing, they'd been doing that for a very long time now. No, it was the extra effort being expended to keep their instincts, their training and their experience at bay that kept him from going looking. He'd just have to trust that he was were alive for now. ​

​

It wasn't brutal, haran [3] it wasn't even pitched. It was just busy. He'd once been told by some aruetii he'd worked with that this was dirty work. It was a no win scenario for either side. He didn't care about that, he wasn't here because he liked the government of Ryloth, nor was he fighting the crowds because he hated them. He was here because there was a job to be done, a job to ensure that these protestors kept their protests non-violent, and to disperse them if they failed to. He felt nothing, not regret, not sympathy. What he did feel was disgust. Disgust that some shabuir had let it get to this point. Those thoughts were fleeting, however, there was nothing he could do about that. He and his only got involved in situations like this when it'd already boiled over. That was the reality of things. ​

​

It was as he was reloading his rifle, pulling the empty magazine with practiced ease, that he felt something. It wasn't directed him, it was like he was bearing witness to some invisible conversation, but he could definitely feel something. An air of calm, like a cool summer breeze on Breshig. What was remarkable was the effect that it had on the crowd. More and more of them started withdrawing, peeling away, as if waking up from some sort of daze. Ruus didn't know what the haran was going on, but he sure as haran wasn't going to question it. ​

​

"Shershoy 6 to Ke'gyce 6, are you seeing what we're seeing?" chimed in Mirta over the comms, confirming that he wasn't hallucinating the scene unfolding before him as a picture-in-picture view of what she was seeing popped up on his HUD. ​

​

"Don't shabla question it, Shereshoy 6. Hold your positions and count it in our favor," he responded, only to a scoff and a 'wayii' in response from Mirta. Ruus turned to the Shereshoy Besh Solus' ver'alor [3], "Hold here, I'm going to see if I can raise our burc'ya [4] from ARCOM special forces." A quick nod and 'oya' was all the confirmation he needed as he tried the ARCOM spec ops freq this time to raise Runar Ulfsson or anyone else (Kaira Vinesse). "This is Colonel Kote, Strill Securities, any chance of a sitrep?" ​

​

[1] Di'kute - Idiots. ​

[2] Shab, Shabla, Shabuir - Extreme insult, like jerk, but much stronger. ​

[3] Ver'alor - Lieutenant.​

[4] Burc'ya - Friend. ​

 

[Runar Ulfsson]

Objective: Protect
Location: Lessu
Tags: Kaira Vinesse | Ruus Kote

Leaning against a wall he slid down and took a deep breath, his eyes looking up as Kaira huddled above him watching her as she began to fix him up like he was some type of grunt. With a growl, he looked towards the Corporal, "Don't give me that crap, I was trying to protect your rear from getting shot." He barked out as he grunted from the pain his eyes shut, feeling the mixture of his suit's internal med-pack and Kaira working on him.

A quick nod and 'oya' was all the confirmation he needed as he tried the ARCOM spec ops freq this time to raise Runar Ulfsson Runar Ulfsson or anyone else ( [IMG alt="Kaira Vinesse"]https://www.starwarsrp.net/data/avatars/s/25/25801.jpg?1631385127[/IMG] Kaira Vinesse ). "This is Colonel Kote, Strill Securities, any chance of a sitrep?"

Tapping on his commlink he reached out towards the Colonel, "Colonel Kote, this is Corporal Carr, we are pinned down towards the armory, no idea what their strength is. We have a droid contingent attached with our team, but we aren't sure if that will do the trick." Keeping his composure over the comms he tapped it off and he grunted again.

His eyes looked up towards Kaira as he felt her working on his abdominal area, his eyes focused on her before he noticed something behind her, his hand moving towards his holster, he pulled out his sidearm and he let two shots ring out close to her ear as a large Twi'lek man dropped behind her. "Thank me later." He muttered out before dropping his hand taking a deep breath.

- Calming effect is sweeping through the population.

He watched as the riots seemed to slowly grow crowder, the loud sounds of rage and anguish filling his ears began to slowly swell down to a confused chattering as the people dropped the rocks they had in their hands in front of the droids and began to walk run away, almost confused at what they had done.

Duran could feel the wave of emotion come over him, his brow raised slightly but he wasn't sure why this was going on, but he could only gather that it was some third-party source that he had no control over, and was beyond his capabilities.

 

[Subject 73 Red]

Location: Lessu
Objective: Hold back the riots
Tags: Runar Ulfsson , Ruus Kote , Rayna Lockley , Zohar , Laertia Io , Darth Metus , Darth Elyria

Red held up his riot shield, holding back the crowds attempting to shove through the line. He was jammed in alongside the other Riot Control Units. Bodies of rioters and objects continued to hit the shield wall, a non-stop barrage hitting the line. "Hold! Hold them back!" Red shouted to the other Riot Control soldiers, trying to hold the line. Multiple stun rounds flew into the crowd, sending some rioters to the ground.

That certainly was helpful, but the rioters just kept on coming... Tear gas canisters then also flew into the crowd, the gas dispersing throughout the frenzied crowd. That helped, too, making some rioters back off. Red stabbed through the wall with his stun baton, the baton connecting and shocking a rioter, sending the rioter to the ground. Red wasn't sure how much longer they could hold them off... they just kept on coming.

As the shield wall began to be pushed back, something happened. The rioters seemed to calm down, and stopped pushing against the wall. They calmed down, and relaxed, no longer intent on attacking the shield wall. Red looked around, confused. What the hell just happened? Why did they stop? This was certainly... bizarre, to say the least.

Red activated his commlink. "This is Master Sergeant Red. Uh, it seems like the rioters have stopped. They just calmed down, and now seem docile now. All clear here. What the hell just happened?" He said over the commlink. This certainly was a bizarre turn of events.

 

[Laertia Io]

"Haaaave yourself, a merry, little Sithmas..." Charlie sang to himself as he merrily blasted rioters into sleepy land with non lethal weaponry.

"Let your heaaaarrrt, be liiiight..."

Rioters got it in the chest and face from his Sonic weapons and his Phantom Laser. To Charlie, this was a Nuetralizer's idea of Generosity and Charity to hostiles, only blasting them enough to get them out of the way and in hand cuffs instead of sending them to the great Droid Boogie in the Sky, shiny and chrome. He was even showing extra restraint by shooting each rioter precisely once as he dual wielded his weaponry.

One Rioter threw a molotov at him, setting him ablaze.

"Your bottle of petrol, alcohol, and sadness lacks the temperature necessary to damage my Chassis..." he explained to the Rioter before blasting him in the chest and then kept walking, still burning, now even more terrifying to the rioters as he moved forward, relentlessly gunning down any who resisted, the Marines securing who he left in his wake.

"From now on, youurrrrr troubles will be ouuuuttt of siiiiigggght..." Charlie continued to sing.

"These Nuetralizers are some sick bastards." one of the Marines said. "Why is it singing?"

"Psychological Warfare subroutine. They all do it. I heard them sing at Sev Tok..." another Marine said. The Rioters slow started to retreat more and more from where the Nuetralizer walked, him merrily humming to himself as he blasted them to La La land. Resistance was still very fierce, a burning metal Skeleton singing a showtune conjured only so much raw terror.

Suddenly the rioters seemed to calm down and withdraw slightly. All the chorus of madness that had been going on before went dead quiet.

"The feth?" Charlie asked confused. "I can't be that good of a singer...or am I?"

He turned to his comrades. "What gives? Did they lose their mojo or what?"

The marines shrugged, as confused as he was.

Charlie turned to the crowd.

"Move a little strange, you're gonna get a sonic bolt." he warned the crowd. "Not a warning. Not a question. A sonic bolt."

Ruus Kote

Subject 73 Red

 

[Darth Metus]

Ah, the taste of Darkness.

A lifetime ago, Isley Verd was but a talentless Mandalorian. But within him was a nugget of potential. A Sith Lord dangled the armored warrior out of an airlock and gave him a choice - submit or perish. Learn or die. Clearly, the Mandalorian took the latter choice. So it was that he adopted the mantle Dar'jetti. So it was that the Mandalorian first learned of the Dark Side of the Force. Isley's first master was cold, but fair. He did not worship the Darkness as a cultist, but had a practical outlook on the world. Therefore, he educated the Mandalorian in how to identify the Dark. How to harness it with all senses.

Therefore, when a Sith Lord was angry in his presence, Isley could smell the wrath.

Or, in the case of the current meeting. If a Knight was afraid in his presence, Isley could taste it.

The sensation was akin to placing a copper coin underneath one's tongue. Far from pleasant, but enough to make the man's eyebrow raise. Isley had his suspicions. He was certain that the Minister would be able to confirm them with her endless expertise. The arrival of the voice of the people was enough to add additional credence to those concerns. It didn't add up. Even with the honied explanation of the Knight Obsidian, Rodia and Ryloth were given millions. Millions. And yet everything was miserable on Ryloth.

Isley wanted to assume the best. But the longer he was present, the more foul play seemed to be written on the wall. Especially with the taste emanating from the Knight.

"I would be very interested in what the people of Ryloth have to say." he began. "For Viceroys are typically elected by the people to represent them in our assembly."

Represent. Not lord over them. Not steal from them.

So it was that all eyes on the room fell on Hypatia Sovis .

Alessandra Creed | Felix Aquila | Kyyrk | Lilicky | Hypatia Sovis​

 

[Zohar]

LESSU - OUTSKIRTS

The reports were...confusing.

In one moment, the riots were reaching critical mass. The colonel was contemplating the release of thousands of droids to bring order to the city. In the next, there was calm. The blasterfire which had been erupting over the comm channels had slowed to effectively zero. Turning, he called to his Tactical Droid. "What's going on out there?"

"According to ground intel and scans, there are no additional forces contributing to this phenomena. This unit suspects Force interference."

Such were the perks of having a genius in Droid form on the bridge. Zohar tapped his fingers on the arm of his command throne.

"I see. If this 'friendly' interference holds, they were should regroup. Order all forces under our jurisdiction to muster before the Viceroy's residence."

"Aye sir. Relaying the message."

Another scan. Though the fighting had come to a halt, there was still weapons' fire.

"That's not one of ours is it?" Zohar inquired, leaning forward in his seat.

"Negative. IFF is not reading Confederate aligned."

Zohar personally got on the horn. "This is Colonel Almark. I'm seeing continued weapons fire in the following vicinity. Scans are showing the riots have slowed - can we get eyes on this?"

The request would point Kaira Vinesse, Runar Ulfsson , Ruus Kote , Subject 73 Red , and Rayna Lockley towards the forces of Laertia Io .​

 

[Stefan Amaris]

A man in combat armor would be riding up a turbolift. His helmet obscured his face, but his silence would speak of the determination. His will of purpose, a case being held in his left hand. When the lift stopped, he could hear someone in his commlink.

"Looks like the one who got here is still there, looks freelance,"

"Deal with it then, we don't leave our work to amatuers,"

"Yes sir,"

As the man watched the doors open, he saw the man on the balcony turn to face him. He saw a look of confusion as he drew out a pistol, and started to say something as he took a few steps forward. It would be his last mistake. A shadow would seemingly step from the corner, having already spied the spot and entered a while ago. A similar looking figure, though slightly effeminate, would reach up behind his head and break his neck a single fluid move. Then she drew out a silenced pistol and put two rounds into the back of his head, and two more into his heart for good measure. While she did this, the man would set the case on a table, opening it and drawing out a heavy sniper rifle. He grabbed a spotting scope for his compatriot as he tossed it to her to set up. She placed it onto the balcony and he issued his command.

"Send it,"

"Range, 700 meters, glass looks armored, wind is two meters out of the south, pressure and humidity are normal,"

As she spoke he would pick up a magazine, selecting two rounds from the case and inserting them. He mounted up the scope, letting the auto-zero do its work as he slammed the magazine home. The optic would detect the rounds in the magazine, and immediately account for that as he plugged in the rest of the variables. Wordlessly he placed the rifle up on the balcony next to his compatriot, looking through the scope as it mapped out the flight path of the round. Based on the deflection, however minor it would be, he adjusted his shot slight up. They would have one chance. He placed his firing hand on the action, cranking it back with a metallic clang as it cycled the first round in the chamber. And with a massive THOOM the rifle would fire almost a second later.

The dart would exit the fire breathing weapon's barrel as it crossed the distance in less than a third of a second. The only warning the occupants would get being the visual of glass shattering as the armor piercing round smashed through it. By the time even the sound of that, let alone the shot, registered the head of the now late Viceroy of Ryloth sitting next to Felix Aquila would suddenly explode in a shower of gore and blood that would cover the room and anyone in the vicinity. Satisfied, the shooter would raise his head from the scope as he passed the rifle to his spotter. That would make a very clear statement to those in the room.

But now for their exit strategy. He would pull out a detonator from his vest as he raised it out to chest height. Linked to it was charges that had been placed earlier in the day. Charges that thanks to a certain Verd's meddling, hadn't been used yet as he'd calmed the people down. In another life, he'd have stopped at just the shot. In another day, under a different flag, he might have been convinced to see reason. But those days were gone. That reason, was gone.

He pressed the button, condemning the innocent lives of a nearby hospital as vans that had been disguised as ambulances detonated in a fire ball. The DEX explosives packed into the vans would detonate with the force of the place being hit by a turbolaser, and the incendiary gel would paint whatever rubble nearby in unquenchable flames. People would scream as the fire claimed their loved ones, the blast and its shrapnel created by the very building ironically meant to heal now destroying lives. That should get their attention. They would know that something far more dangerous and evil was now hunting them. That they could be touched. That they could bleed. That they could die.

"Send the word up to the commander, it is done. We're exfiltrating. Ryloth and the Confederacy have felt our wrath,"

Tags: Zohar , Kaira Vinesse , Runar Ulfsson , Ruus Kote , Subject 73 Red , Laertia Io , Darth Metus , Alessandra Creed , Felix Aquila , Kyyrk , Lilicky , Hypatia Sovis

 

[Hypatia Sovis]

P A R L E Y?​

Tags: Felix Aquila Kyyrk Darth Metus Alessandra Creed Lilicky Stefan Amaris
Location: Lessu

The blue Twi'leks eyes were locked on the countess as she awaited her reply, there was no hint of shyness or fear, that quickly became clear. She knew her people were suffering and was doubtless in whatever she needed to do to help them. Her will on full display as she stared down the ruler of her people waiting for her reply only to be surprised when someone else at the table offered her a seat.

Looking towards the minister, her eyes quickly seeming to assess her and her words before with a confident stride she walked over taking the offer with no hesitation. Not even caring that the countess had not given her consent. Though she took the warning given to her and as she sat nodding towards the minister. She gave her exactly what she needed. She was extra surprised when even the Viceroy’s adviser advocated for her to speak. She expected push back. Even his suggestion was exactly what Ryloth needed, not that she trusted the Countess to effectively use such funds seeing the splendor of the palace. However.. If it required an audit then people might find out where all that gold came from. And if that was the case she knew just what to say.

Before she could speak, having been so focused on the Countess she only just finally noticed that Isley Verd himself was sitting across from her. Freezing in a moment of utter surprise at such a legendary figure here of all places and times. A man who was a powerful and influential figure among not only the whole of the Confederacy but on Ryloth as well.

The delay ended up being perfectly timed as he took it to join in voicing his desire to hear from her. She literally could not believe her luck as a slight smirk formed on her face. The stars could not have aligned better and she intended to make use of it. And what better than the truth?

“What they want is help.” She spoke in a respectful tone towards the historic figure.

“They are in dire need of aid. Their city is in ruin, thousands are homeless living with the damage dealt to them after the wars, it was never rebuilt. I’ve seen it for myself.” She glanced around the room, getting a sense of everyone else's reaction and wanting them to feel addressed as she spoke, getting more impassioned as she did.

“The businesses were never repaired and unable to operate, causing a shortage of basic supplies that only made the prices worse, leading to more homelessness and even starvation. Causing a cascade of worsening living standards to the point they riot right below us now. Risking their very lives literally as they have nothing else they think they can do to make it better.” And at this she stared at the countess controlling the rage she wanted to unleash onto her.

“Think of all the wealth and glory you saw in this very building, but to the opposite degree is how it is below.” And with that she turned to Isely Verd. “They need whatever you can give them.” She was satisfied with her speech, considering how eager people here were to hear it she felt safe to assume that her people would be getting some help.

Only to as she finished her words a boom, shatter, and spray of blood covering her as she instantly turned towards where it came from seeing her Viceroy now a mess of gore, jumping from her chair as she rushed towards the wall looking towards the window, she considered rushing towards the door but that was in clear view of the window and therefor the shooter. Instead heading towards the wall where the assassin's view was blocked, hitting and looking back towards the scene unfolding around her.

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Location: Ryloth [Meeting - Seated, at the Table.]
Tag: Darth Metus | Kyyrk | Felix Aquila | Lilicky | Hypatia Sovis

____________________________________________________________​

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her stomach, churned. It wasn't for any physical illness that she suffered but the whispers of something amiss that seemed to be wreaking havoc through the Force. The crystal around her neck that prevented the rest of the room from knowing she was a practitioner did not keep it out. It just kept them from realizing. It misled. Fooled—Redirected focus toward some other point. Perfectly manicured fingernails dug into her palms beneath the table leaving small crescent mood indentations.

If she could feel it while the voices of the people rose outside—Alessandra was certain others could feel it too. The unrest. The deception.

The hole in the world.

The whelp, Felix Aquila , seemed awestruck. Not with her. She had seen his eyes drift toward Darth Metus and the light joke that he uttered seemed to speak more than he wished to say. It was easy to find oneself overwhelmed in the presence of the Vicelord of the Confederacy. He carried a cloud sophisticated, well-earned, absolute power that most could only achieve of obtaining. There was a reason that most Confederate enemies fought with dirty tactics and endless subterfuge.

There was a reason they rarely came to the Droid Nation head on. They would lose.

Watching the way the Aquila boy acted as a referee between their parties made the Mistress of Contracts wonder. He seemed capable. Hopefully, he wasn't also implicated in her findings. If there was anything at all out of place Alessandra was certain to find it no matter how well record-keeping had been doctored to reflect the correct data. She could smell when numbers had been changed or falsified from a parsec away. She could see it.

All part of the pattern.

If the fact that she had invited Hypatia Sovis to sit beside her angered the Viceroy and her assistant Alessandra Creed could hardly be bothered to care. Felix Aquila continued with the subject at hand, however, the Minister had a feeling that the newcomer had more to say. Why else interrupt this meeting? Why risk it? If Exarch Talon would have been present, she would have been less than amused. That—Was a certainty. Then again, subtlety would have also been out the window.

Alessandra discretely looked back at Kyyrk once more. Just for a second. The soft smile he left her with took some of the edge off, but she was still incredibly wary. She didn't know why he seemed to be avoiding her but forced herself to place it to the wayside. At least, while she had a job to do. If she had done something she needed to apologize for she would do so later. Darth Metus agreed with her assessment and she leaned back and waited for the blue-skinned female to say her peace.

The report from Ms. Sovis was devastating. Expected, but devastating nonetheless.

It was the hole in the world.

Accusing, dark eyes, turned on the Countess. She managed one word: "Why—"

And her vision filled with color. Deep purple, almost magenta blood filled the space and a spay made its way across the opulent dining table. The splatter caused the Minister to turn her head to the side. She could feel warm, wet fluid on her cheek. Her heartbeat thudded loudly. Too loudly. Her gaze seemed distant when she turned her face back toward the remains of the victim and she wanted to move. She was likely in direct line of sight. But, her limbs felt heavy.

One moment the Viceroy was there. Glaring, about to face judgment.

The next?

Alessandra blinked. She wasn't a Knight. She wasn't an Exarch—And she sure wasn't the Vicelord. She knew all about violence and had suffered through her fair share. It was different than watching the works of an assassin before your eyes. The blood of the victim called for her to act. To draw on it for strength before it cooled. But, she merely remained still. Cool. Quiet.

As if someone had simply refilled the tea.

She was in shock.

 

[Kyyrk]

S N I P E R
​

Too late, did Kyyrk feel the hairs on his neck standing on end. Too late did he see the sniper on the far rooftop. Too late did he open his eyes. It was too late to call out. To warn the inhabitants of the room. Kyyrk did the only thing he could. He pushed forward away from the window, and brought his arm up, spinning to activate his shield. A physical thing, not unlike the Gungan shields of Naboo. A rare sight beyond the lush garden world. Kyyrk stopped in the path of the bullet, bracing himself to bear the brunt of the impact. The sickening sound of splattering behind him registered almost before the fact he was laying on the floor.

The shot had torn directly through his shield. Now blood oozed from his shoulder. His left arm was limp. A quick mental assessment told him that while he'd survived the shot, it had taken most of his collar bone with it. Nothing critical was injured. Nothing that couldn't be repaired. But he knew he was only awake though the force of his own grit, and the frankly alarming cocktail that his Valkyrie system was pumping into his body now. His armor was among the highest rated for kinetic strikes. Yet it had torn through it as though it was nothing. Kyyrk pushed himself to his feet, aware that while it felt as though he'd been on the floor for ages, mere seconds had passed. But they were valuable seconds.

Then, a horrifying thought entered his mind. The splatter. Someone behind him had been hit. And for a single heart stopping moment, he wondered if Alessandra Creed was still among the living. The room was still spinning, his life force quickly ebbing away through the wound in his shoulder. He grabbed at the back of a chair to steady himself as he stumbled to his feet. Within the chair, the once Viceroy of Ryloth sat. She now slumped lifeless over the table. Kyyrk looked across to the two figures on the far side. Darth Metus was alive and well, but Kyyrk wasn't worried about him. He could more than handle a sniper such as that. The figure next to him, however...

Kyyrk breathed a sigh of relief to see that Alessandra still sat upright. But the shot had damaged her too. Kyyrk knew that look in her eye all too well. He pushed himself to his feet, taking first one step, staggering, and then another step. The medicinal cocktail was dumping into his system, and slowly focusing his mind back to alert. For a brief moment, he wasn't sure which he dreaded more: The recovery time on his shoulder, or the hangover he would have.

As he came to a stop beside Alessandra, he grabbed her arm, guiding her out of the chair. "Minister. It's time to leave." Kyyrk looked back at the rooftop from which the sniper shot had come. So great was his fear for the woman's wellbeing that he'd not seen who or what had taken the shot. He'd let them get away. He helped guide the Minister out of her chair, and placed himself between her and a possible second shot. With one arm immobilized, he would not be able to defend them both. So he chose his ward. He didn't know if she had the presence of mind to guide herself, so he pressed her forward.

He cast a single glance behind them. "Vicelord. You'd best get to safety as well."

Felix Aquila || Hypatia Sovis