Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private This is for fighting... This is for FUN!






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TAGS: Saram Kote Saram Kote



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SUPPER DUPER BATTLE CRUISER



Thanks to some helpful guidance from Fynch Fynch , Braze managed to make his way aboard the SB-01 Darasuum Morut-class Super-heavy Battlecarrier.

His eyes were set on a particular objective: Saram Kote Saram Kote 's weapon. Braze had been waiting patiently just outside the bar, knowing she'd eventually take a break. When she finally emerged, he slipped into step behind her, matching her stride with a practiced ease. Each footfall was deliberate, his movements quiet and calculated.

As they entered the bar, Braze hung back, watching her every move. His gaze locked onto the weapon she carried, the one he intended to claim. His fingers flexed and cracked, a subtle preparation for what was about to unfold.

The moment Saram set the gun down and turned her attention elsewhere, Braze saw his chance. With a swift, almost fluid motion, he darted forward, his hand closing around the weapon. Without a second thought, he bolted, hoping to disappear before she even realized what had happened.
 

Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde

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Friendly Units:
Tag(s): Braze Braze

Equipment


Ori'copaad'bor. Workaholic. How the haran was she supposed to help it that there were more than enough things to be done? It wasn't that she didn't spend enough time with her traat'aliit. Their concern came from the fact that she apparently didn't take time to unwind outside of that time. "Get a nuhu'bora," Ran had suggested to her on numerous occasions. She had several, the only one not related to work was cooking, and really, how much could one cook? Especially when she spent most of her time in places without kitchens?

Ran had tried numerous other times to get her to do something she might repeat. Like the time he'd convinced her to go to that festival at Eshan. Or the time she did a cooking demonstration at a fishing town in RTL space. Or the numerous other hairbrained ideas that he'd had. So when Ran had asked to meet her at the Morut's tapcaf, she definitely suspected that he had ulterior motives.

She spotted her 2IC almost immediately on entering the tapcaf and began making her way over to the bar where he was seated. There were some unfamiliar faces around. TAC forces had been invited aboard, ostensibly to familiarize themselves with some of the donated arsenal and to train alongside company troops for better coordination in the field. She spotted Jaing in a heated argument with another Nihut'tyr about slicing techniques, or so it seemed in any case. When she finally reached the bar, she took her rifle off the mag strip on the back of her armor and placed it beside her. "Su'cuy, vod," she said to Ran who had turned once he'd notice her approach, a mug of netra gal in his hand.

"Su'cuy," Ran replied, only some of his usual cheer missing from his tone. "So, we're off duty right now..." he started. Saram immediately didn't like where hew as going with this. He had the same [abr="idiotic"]di'kutla[/abbr] look on his face that he did when he'd done something he knew she wouldn't like, but it was too late to do anything about it. That momentary distraction, that lapse in her concentration for the fraction of a second was all it took. Her trained eyes caught movement in the corner of her vision, prompting her to turn instinctively. She snapped around to see a small figure bolting off with an AMR-4M Verpine Shatter Anti-Material Rifle. A quick look confirmed that it was her AMR-4M Verpine Shatter Anti-Material Rifle.

She leapt off her seat and hit the deck running, cybernetically enhanced body and her armor's muscle fiber undersuit propelling her at an inhuman pace. She got a decent look at the thief for the first time. Almost immediately she made out lightsabers on his belt. The thief seemed to be a Jetii'ika. Now she definitely knew that Ran was to blame. How much had that di'kut paid the ad'ika? That was something for him to worry about when she kicked his shebs later. Once she got her weapon back. She snapped her arm up, clingwire launcher ready to fire. Instinct, skill and training took over. Between steadied breaths, she fired.


 
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The impetuous little Jedi scamp launched himself into the air with a graceful leap, spinning mid-flight before landing effortlessly on his feet several paces ahead. His mischievous grin was wide as he used the Force to enhance his acrobatics, making the whole display look like a practiced routine.

As if he knew the attack was coming—and exactly where it might land—he padded backward a few steps, the rifle strap pulled taut in his hands. With a cheeky glint in his jade-green eyes, Braze flicked out his fleshy little pink tongue and yanked down his lower eyelid with one finger, pulling the ultimate "silly face" at her. It was the kind of childish taunt that practically begged for a reaction.

"Nice try, but you're gonna have to try way harder than that if you want this bad boy back~!" Braze teased, his voice carrying that playful lilt only a Jedi imp could pull off.

Without warning, he broke left, darting down a hallway past the crew quarters like a flash of lightning, his laughter echoing through the ship. He zipped off toward the gymnasium, the rifle still slung across his back like it was his latest prize.

Once inside, Braze's eyes darted around for a hiding spot. Spying a sign, his smirk widened into a full-blown, devilish grin.

"Perfect,"
he muttered under his breath, as he bounded over equipment like it was second nature. He was practically vibrating with glee, already plotting the next part of his game.
 

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