To Serve or Die

[Pharazon Draken]

In retrospect, Pharazon pondered to himself, perhaps attempting to hide within a mysterious fascist dictatorship with forged documents was not the wisest idea he had ever had.

After his last job for a shady underworld figure, Pharazon had concocted a plan to seclude himself on the main inhabited planet in the Lipsec system and hide himself within the mysterious First Order that ruled it. With the proceeds of the job, he had been able to get himself groomed and fitted with some fine clothes in order to fit into his new created persona of a rather foppish nobleman from one of the core worlds, that he had modelled after one of his haughty legitimate male cousins on Hapes. He was intending to be quietly ignored as a fool, but fanatical law enforcement and immigration legislation conspired against him.

Barely containing his rising internal anxiety and frustration Pharazon attempted to again reason with the law enforcement officer.

“I assure you my good man that those papers do indeed grant me the right to permanent residence as a non-citizen of the Glorious First Order” Pharazon said exasperatedly with a distinct nasally overtone.

“And you should well know, having checked so fastidiously my data records over the past five minutes, that they are up to date and that I have begun my imperialization process toward full citizenship” Pharazon added snidely. He must have looked and sounded very odd, being so large but sounding like such a pompous puff. Well, Pharazon though, hopefully he just thinks I am a an abnormally tall buffoon. His clothes did hide most of his muscle definition as well so hopefully he would not notice that and get suspicious.

He had no idea whether there was a naturalization program or if was called imperialization, he only knew that that was on his forged records that he had acquired and paid to have sliced into the system.His papers had worked until now during his several week stay on the planet, he would never have gotten through the atmosphere without them, not with the amount of defences the planet had and the general militarism of the government. He also could not help but ponder that even though he was being accosted in the middle of a busy in the heart of one of the major cities, Pharazon could not help but admire the at least outward orderly nature of the public and society that the First Order had imposed on this backwater. He knew very well it was some kind of totalitarian empire, but unlike on Hapes, society actually seemed to function for some other reason than by the whims of inbred nobles, people here seemed to have a fanatical element to them, a real commitment to this First Order. Whether it was real or a forced facade did not matter much to Pharazon. There was purpose here.

“Immigrant, these are valid but as per regulation…” the officer droned on but Pharazon ignored him as he watched three women walking along different parts of the street… all towards him, all suspiciously Hapan too Pharazon cursed to himself. So the Satinar have found and come for me themselves this time Pharazon thought, adrenaline flooding his body as fear and rage began to cloud his mind.

Then he spotted her, it was his… Cousin Norathyia? So she finally showed herself in person, though after Nar Shaddaa Pharazon had no doubt it was her behind the actions by various assassins and agents against him these past months. House Satinar clearly wanted all the glory from his capture, so much that they were using their own private personal and members of their family rather than hired specialists Their eyes met and Pharazon knew what was about to happen. Whatever else was going in or had happened before this confrontation, his shadows had finally caught up to him after Nar Shaddaa, this would end here, one way, or another.

The officer was still talking, citing some absurd and obscure piece of regulation or legislation with the gist being Pharazon was under arrest, but Pharazon had no time for this man anymore. Slamming his fist into the side of the officer’s uncovered head with a swift right hook from his powerful arm, Pharazon knocked the man unconscious, possibly fracturing his skull, and took off at a sprint in the opposite direction of his soon to be assailants.

Drawing his blaster and dirk from where he had hidden them, he angled himself back while still running and fired three intentionally poorly aimed shots at the agents to hopefully surprise them as he had a gnawing feeling that he knew they had not. The three shots missed as intended, each impacting near each of the three visible agents close enough to give them a shock and let them know he was really onto them, and that he was not coming back to Hapes willingly. They now charged after him, drawing their own weapons and undoubtedly calling in the other agents from whatever trap they may have been trying to shepherd him into.

Needless to say, this caused pandemonium on the busy street, dozens if not hundreds ran in every conceivable direction, First Order officers sprinted into the commotion, blasters drawn, attempting to ascertain the situation. Not looking back to see what the other agents were doing Pharazon smashed his way through the crowd with his great size and strength, maintaining his speed as people fled before him, trying to not get bowled, crushed, or shot.

Pharazon knew that after the situation he had caused he would likely now be a target by members of the First Order nearby. It does not matter he thought, I will not go back to Hapes, this ends, here and now, one way or another. Whether by escape, Hapan or Imperial blaster bolt, or something else, Pharazon’s life would either end here or never be the same after this day.

Spoiler

OOC Link

Spoiler

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/92225-to-serve-or-die-ooc/

 

[Caid Centurion]

"Do you feel that?"

Caid's silver-green gaze shifted to the large holographic image of his great-grandfather Jhereg. The youngest male Centurion had only recently recovered the device from a residence maintained by his father for the last several decades on Coruscant. It had been an interesting yet productive trip. So productive, in fact, that the holocron had not been the only thing Caid had recovered during his several week jaunt throughout the galaxy, away from the affairs of the First Order. Having returned to First Order space for more than perhaps a day only rather recently, the Knight of Ren had elected to maintain a relatively low profile. It would take...time to sell the many valuables he now possessed and arrange for the money to be deposited into a central account with his real name.

Sequestered away from the main city deep in a relatively distant jungle, Caid had spent the better of the day honing his skill in the manipulation of raw dark side energy. It went deeper than the typical light shows that many people preferred, including his father according to Jhereg. The holocron had warned Caid that using such a power was the principal reason the dark side contorted the physical features of its users. Jhereg also claimed that the only way to truly stave off the effects was to...revitalize one's soul with the strength of another. It presented a chilling potential reality to Cameron's ever-youthful appearance. Naturally, Caid surmised on his own that continuous cloning could, more or less, accomplish the same objective. He just...doubted the man was constantly transferring his essence every few decades.

The holographic image of Jhereg did not sigh or otherwise convey emotional responses. Apparently that had been largely typical among his ancestors. "You will never be Cameron, child. You should stop concerning yourself with what he does or does not do."

Caid wanted to say something, but he set his jaw.

"The fire within you...it can grant you strength, or it can destroy you. You must first learn to control your own mind, mastering everything that contributes to your soul...before you can hope to have any real strength outside of raw potential in the Force. The ability to swing a blade is one thing...and very useful in combat. However, you limit yourself, relying on brute strength and physical speed. The day you learn to remove the limits your mind places on your body...is the day that you can start to progress...to be better than Cameron."

Somewhat grudgingly, Caid nodded his head before exhaling and closing his eyes. Caid's increasingly dark presence swelled and began to roll across the landscape of the planet. There was something...a large commotion pulling just at the edge of his senses. Forcing any thoughts from his mind, Caid merely felt the aura of the Force around him. As it took over all of his natural senses, Caid became aware of the confrontation happening in the capital of the planet. "A lone perpetrator. Police action."

"You can do better than that...let the Force speak to you. If your mind is too loud, your focus too narrow, you might miss the whisper altogether."

Caid gave no response, allowing a sincere tranquility to settle over him. "Not just the police. Others...others not coordinating with said law enforcement." Abruptly, Caid's eyes shot open. "Foreigners."

Jhereg merely nodded. "You are getting better, child."

Before Caid could return to the task at hand, his datapad began beeping. Swiping the device, Caid came to his feet as he thumbed in his passcode and read the message. A few seconds later, Caid was pulling on his cloak. After stowing the device and pulling up his hood, Caid's silver-green gaze met the holographic image of his father. "Time to work. We will continue another time." With a wave of his hand, the holocron deactivated. Stowing it in his bag, Caid turned and walked roughly five minutes to his shuttle which rested casually in a small clearing.

In a matter of minutes, he was up the loading ramp and preparing for departure.

[member="Pharazon Draken"]

 

[Pharazon Draken]

[SIZE=14.6667px]All the anxiety, fear, anger, envy and feelings of betrayal he had been suppressing for the past months was rapidly flooding Pharazon’s mind as he ran through streets, alleyways and storefronts. They drove him onward, fuelling his powerful legs, steadying his breathing, guiding his shots as he fought his running battle with a gradually increasing number of now obvious Hapan agents. The sound of blaster bolts was accentuated by the screams of terrified bystanders, some of whom had been caught in the crossfire.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Pharazon was sure he had not hit any, his training and obsessive desire to kill these Hapans likely contributing. However, even if Pharazon had been careless the way these agents were shooting at him left him wondering how more people were not dead. Several of the women even had fully automatic blaster rifles, and were making little effort to avoid harming the civilians.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]They must be desperate after my escape from Nar Shaddaa... [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Pharazon though taking another shot from his temporary cover, clipping a running agent in the shoulder causing them to collapse in pain. Then he was running again.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]More and more First Order law enforcement and security personnel were being deployed however and entering into the fray. There were now at least a dozen Hapans out in the open chasing after him through the streets at different distances, and at least thirty First Order first responders chasing them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Those fools need to stay out of the way [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Pharazon cursed as he was again forced to alter direction and flee through a side street to avoid an effective fire squad of Imperials deploying from a vehicle. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]I cannot keep running from them, they have committed, and so must I[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]. Changing direction once again Pharazon headed past a sharp corner.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]After firing into the crowd he knew that they were after him dead rather than alive. Readying himself, his blaster and his dirk, Pharazon waited for the one who was closest behind him to pass the corner, and then sprung his trap.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Lunging at her with the full power of his muscles behind him, he tackled her to the ground and plunged his naval issue dirk straight into her heart. It happened so fast that her look of shocked anger was frozen onto her now lifeless and draining face. Quickly he took off at run again, blaster bolts exploding on the pavement around him.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]With his first kill his conflicting emotions turned quickly into the strangely exuberant rage he had felt several times before during events that would change his life. His lust for blood and battle rising, he made haste through the city, trying to find a place where he could make his stand, and feed his gnawing internal hunger for his enemies deaths.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px][member="Caid Centurion"][/SIZE]

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid's small shuttle cut low across the terrain of Lipsec. He'd tuned in the local planetary law enforcement frequency on one of his radios, listening to the varied reports streaming in from those closing in on the unknown gunman. If the Knight of Ren relied solely on the radio reports, he would have undoubtedly been rather confused about the situation. As it stood, the vast majority of officers involved in the chase had no idea that the Hapans following the unidentified male were not in fact First Order citizens. It sounded almost as if a large contingent of bystanders had suddenly decided to attempt a citizen's arrest.

Needless to say...it was causing a significant larger degree of collateral damage than the First Order and thus Ciardha Ren were prepared to tolerate. Nearing the area of the disturbance, Caid climbed higher into the sky to provide a better overview of what was happening on the ground. Once he'd reached the desired altitude, he banked the vessel into a lazy left-handed loop. Silver-green eyes gazed down at the masses of people below before he spoke a simple command over the law enforcement frequency. "This is Ciardha Ren. All First Order personnel pull back and establish a containment perimeter around grid E4."

There was silence for several moments before a series of voices began acknowledging the command. As was often the case, none chose to challenge whether an individual claiming to be a Knight of Ren actually was one. In the end of the day, it was in their best interest to simply comply and stay out of the way. For the next few moments, Caid contented himself to watch how things continued to unfold...now that the actual First Order assets had been ordered to cease their pursuit.

[member="Pharazon Draken"]

 

[Pharazon Draken]

Bursting through a doorway and quickly barricading it behind him, Pharazon peeked out of a nearby window. He had come into this apparently empty small office complex in order to avoid an upcoming roadblock, however, deep down he knew he had barricaded himself in here to bring the situation to a head and sate his rage. Looking out onto the street, his face slightly contorted into a concerned frown as the uniformed First Order officers who had been running parallel to him… Peeled off and retreated. Why do they retreat when they are right on my and the Satinar's tail? he frantically wondered, trying to not lose himself to the fear of what this tactic could indicate. He did notice some kind of shuttle was now observing the chase, but forced himself to focus on finding a semi-defensible place in this most unfortified mundane office building that could become his impromptu mausoleum if he was indecisive.

Heading to the second floor of the three story complex, he set about patching his wounds and preparing himself for the inevitable door breach and the resulting blood that must be spilt. Ripping a strip off of his once fine but now blood, sweat, and dust covered silk shirt he tied it around his upper right thigh to staunch the bleeding from a wide blaster burn that had not cauterised itself. Tossing his equally tattered and once exquisite jacket unceremoniously into a corner, Pharazon reloaded his blaster and wiped the blood from his dirk, readying both, one in each hand.

Loud bangs and explosions rang out from the lower floor, breaching charges and flash grenades, if only some of those First Order goons could have slowed them down, I need more time, Pharazon sighed internally. Slamming another barricade in the form of some filing cabinet down to give himself even a modicum of protection, Pharazon took cover as the agents began to breach the door to the upper level. With a scream of incoherent rage he fired through the door, heard a thud, and continued to fire. One way or another, it ended here. If one were to have observed the office from outside, a cacophony of blaster flashes, explosions, and screams were painfully bursting from the upper floor, part of the building had even caught aflame.

Pharazon fought ferociously, firing and stabbing as more and more of the dozen or so Hapans flooded into the upper floor. Using the cramped space of the office cubicles to his advantage, Pharazon forced the agents into brutal close quarters combat in a desperate attempt to stop them from simply gunning him down as if a firing squad. Slamming the face of one woman into a desk and quickly blasting her head into steam, Pharazon roared, desperately wrestling the gun from another's hands. This was brutal, personal fighting. Though he fought with a horrifying rage, there were at least nine or ten more of them than him. He fought on, rage powering his great frame and muscles, hate driving his mind, and his will to survive focusing his lust for blood, Pharazon fought on. Blood streamed from multiple cuts, blaster burns encrusted his body, his remaining clothes torn, burned and ragged hung from his body, Pharazon slammed his dirk into the sternum of a Hapan man about his age, covering his hands with more of the blood of his countrymen. Roaring once again, he finally succumbed to the rage and blood lust that had almost overwhelmed numerous times before. Losing all sense of self control and directed movement, his instincts guided his hands and would lead him now to victory or death.

[member="Ciardha Ren"]