We Come For Booty (Dominion Dom of Chiloon Rift and Irn)

[Darth Eversor]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0LdIZ8TWYo​

It all came down to a single, profound moment. Time nearly stood still as Abraxas mulled over the possible outcomes of the two options that whispered into his conscience.

But the choice of decision was not truly his, for fate had already destined the Sith's morality to crumble and wane. What the truly just course of action was became the least common denominator, and the higher statistical value of a treason now shined with a glamorous aura of what Abraxas could do, and what he lusted after. In black and white, it seemed to be nothing more complex than life or death.

But lost between the translations of the intentions was a longing, a palpable desire to come closer to that of the Dark Side and take part in the forbidden acts that the Dominion wouldn't think twice about demolishing and burying with the wicked and the ideals they deemed a threat.

As the Dread Seed's influence beckoned, the virtue that clung to the already weak relationship of the Light's purpose began to loosen its grip. It too would become consumed and twisted by the darker, truest intentions of the Sith known as Abraxas; butcher of many, executioner to the God-King's throne.

Is that what he still considered himself? Or perhaps it was a pride that never truly died when he defected, that he was too much of a coward to face the reality of what he was and what he intended for the Dominion in the first place.

He wanted them to die...

The embrace of death consumed Abraxas' mind in a veil of inky blackness that spiked through his flimsy, paper-thin facade as a hero.

There was no hero here, only a treacherous madman that confided with the madness that whispered to him from the artifact that would both his undoing, and his truest calling. No music was sweeter, no speech of peace could boast such a harmony as touching as the Dark Side's plea to stay, stay within its reach so that its beauty could be expressed by those who were worthy.

He was worthy, he was ready.

And so the leap of faith took place as Abraxas jumped over the railing of the catwalk that he stood on, landing in front of [member="Antherion"], lightsaber still ignited. The Sith stared at both the thief and the Dread Seed. He wouldn't need this man, this preacher of what was so apparent in his eyes; however, something else told the warrior to cease the thought of slaying, to spare this moment as a truce to show the Epicanthix whom he truly was.

With a faint sigh, Abraxas extinguished his crimson and holstered his hilt. Now he reached out to place a hand upon the Dread Seed, closing his eyes as he indulged in its ecstasy.

"...I understand now..." ​

Once a Sith, always a Sith.

But as the moment of betrayal began to set in, something very... upsetting occurred simultaneously. The doors in the hangar bay had sealed, and the barrier to the hangar itself was now disabled. No oxygen, no sound.

Something needed to be done, and it needed to be accomplished relatively quickly.

Location: The Acerbitas
Objective: Betray the Dominion
Enemies: [The Dominion]
Allies: [member="Antherion"] | [member="Lethia Morow"] | [member="The Slave"] | [member="Boethiah"]

 

[Kenrath]

Location: Breaching atmosphere Sarnus, Chiloon Rift-Primeval Outpost
Objective: Murder and Mayhem
Allies: [member="Aria Vale"] [member="Vaylin"] Primeval and TSA allies
Enemies: [member="Judas Foster"] [member="Teresa Shan"] Dominion and allies
Intended Opponent [member="Rakieh Atur"]

Just when Soryn thought they would be able to hit atmosphere without a scratch the ship suddenly shuttered and shook. The pilot announcing they had been hit and were going down. Soryn growled softly dropping the closest seat and bracing for impact. He quickly secured his knives and anything that could detach in the impact before yelling out to the pilot.

"Getting us down as close to the target as you can. I can make the rest of the way of foot."

The pilot rolled his eyes and groaned but did his best to try and steer the ship towards the outpost the closest sign of life they could see as they went spiraling towards the ground. At the last minute Soryn curled up slightly into a ball as the ship nose dived into the ground a kilometer from where the battle was taking place.

Soryn knew everyone from a few kilometers would have seen or at least heard the impact. After taking a minute to check out for any injuries he began to pull himself from the wreckage leaving the pilot on his own dead or alive. He was a bit banged up but he was ready for a fight as he checked his gear and make his way towards the outpost on foot.

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

Location: Fairline Province, Irn
Objective: Start a fire.
Equipment: A pair of blades, a hidden book, a text book taken from Lorrd on Maderandai, and a personal kit.
Allies: [member="Satia"], [member="Krest"], [member="Lethia Morow"], The Primeval
Enemies: The Dominion

"Do...do you have a God like this?" Pravus smiled to the applause of gentle rain. Within the large hut, he knelt before the child and showed her images of the being. "Do you know of the one who confides in nothing?" His dark eyes shifted from the girl, cheeks stained in soot and trails of tears, towards the mother and father. Bound in leather straps to rocking chairs, their eyes harbored a sort of fear that made Pravus jittery. It was just the sort of expression he desired in all things that stood before him. For as the Gods had spoken, so too would he listen. To rule with fear, not love, was the only true path to conquest and ascension.

"No, of course you don't. There is no God quite like this." He smiled as he stood up, pushing his hand down over the pages. "It's said that Maderandai, whom I suspect is a specter and fallacious representation of a much truer presence, wove the worlds together through reprisal. Silence, utter silence, was his admonition."

"What...what do you want with us?!?" The man spoke, albeit muffled, as he spit and chewed on his gag. Pravus stepped to his right, swaying as he looked towards the ceiling, before setting the hide covered briefcase on the wooden table. Unbuckling each strap with delicate mannerism, he lifted the lid with sounds of exhalation. One might have assumed gold nuggets rested below, for the glow that peppered his face gave no other conclusion. Below, a dirty needle rested in a cushion adjacent to multiple viles, strapped within through twine. Within the gloss containment, red and gold stirred with heterogeneous reluctance.

"I want...the world. I want your soul. And I want to see what you'll do without it..." He giggled as his fingers strafed across each vile, caressing each like a lost lover. There were several containers that were empty. Pulling the syringe and needle from the case, he loaded one of the viles and approached the wife.

"L-le-leave her alone."

"Thank you for volunteering. I'll have you know...you'll be the third one today. And by far the most willing." He looked up towards the window, the sound of screams filling the air. Just then, in standard doctor fashion, he ejected just a squirt of the Sith Poison before pushing his gaze towards the man and his oh so prominent veins. "This wont hurt a bit, not at all." With the finesse of a butcher, the needle and plunger descended with the assertion of his dominance. Retracting, he covered his mouth as blood welled up from the puncture. "Dear me, it's only my forth time with this needle." He laughed. "Might need to change it out. Oh well, thoughts for another planet."

"What...what have you done to me?!?"

"Oh, nothing my dear. I've just...made you better." He smiled warmly before leaning over and patting the man on the shoulder. "Take care."

With that, he packed up his briefcase and stepped out of the back door. The corpse of a familiar was wondering along the tree line, hobbling around with a broomstick for one leg and a tattered ruin for another. Pravus slowly made his way to him, handing the briefcase over. The towns of fairline were often considered neutral, which made this practice all the easier. A line so prominent, of clans, that it spanned the planet, the rage of the sith poison would spread like wildfire through it. Unless, of course, it was discovered by a Jedi would could offset the impact. He hoped they wouldn't, that would spoil every bit of his fun.

"What will it do...the poison?"

Pravus looked towards Darron, staring down the length of his nose. "Rainbows. Birds chipping. Swine...swining! What do you think it's going to do, Darron!?!?" He huffed as he placed his hands on his hips, overly bearing with his form of communication. He wouldn't tell the man any more, because he was too simple minded to understand the viral vector. That simple blood contact would be enough. And that the poison filled those, injected with it, with a rage and hunger unlike any other.

They weren't too far now from his allies, those of the Primeval. With the book opened, he tugged on the synapses of the zombie with a snap of his fingers as he read and wandered. Through the forest they would go, following the band towards those who sought similar purpose.

A spell of silence was believed to exist beneath the arch of Maderandai. And that beneath the ruins of old civilizations, where he had crushed them with the weight of his void, he left hints of this spell.​

​

Fire, rage, and ash. Combined from those willing, silence could be born. Silence so deep that only madness could survive it, for silence sustained it.​

 

[Riamah]

Seeing her opponent draw her Sith sword, Ra pulls away from its greater reach. She knew she had get in close to the woman so she could not bring the sword into play effectively. Those teeth though, Ra would have to be more than aware of.

Ra felt the effects of Cedric's Battle Meditation and was more confident and secure in her fight with Satia.

"That was just the prologue."

She replied to the woman's taunt with one of her own, her eyes instead of glowing white, glowed now with an almost inhuman golden glint. This woman in front of her needed to die and it would be by Ra's hands.

"Your move. Let's dance."

 

[Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax]

Location: Sarnus, Chiloon Rift
Allies: [member="Judas Foster"]
Foes: The Primeval - [member="aria vale"], [member="Vaylin"]
Gear: Revan's Robes, Revans Lightsaber

Her strike would be intercepted by her opponent blade before she pushed away and began to back off. The woman's head would tilt to the side till she could feel and hear the satisfying pop in her neck. All the while Teresa listened. "Well thanks for the half compliment. Although I consider myself better looking than those creatures." A faint smile would reach her lips. "So here is how this is going to go down. You will be my entertainment, my... Playyy thing for however long it takes for my target to die or beat that other person."

The tip of the saber would score an arc onto the floor as she stood idle and relaxed in her stance. Her foot would slide to the edge of the arc. Knees bent slightly and her body lent forwards. "But really I'm not goin to take you seriously. Know why?" In a quick motions her body lunged at the girl and Revans saber came up to across her own chest anticipating the zabracks next move to stop any attack to be struck. "It's because you began to back away before our fun time even began. Kudos to noticing me. Not many can say that." Like all combatants Teresa went against she took all of them seriously to underestimate someones abilities is to underestimate your own. For now she'd have to keep her trump card hidden. She had to rely on her own abilities for now that was fueld by the seeping darkside resonating from the robes and saber.

 

[Alyson Halle]

Location: Outside the Forest
Objective: Stop the Creature
Allies: Dominion
Enemies: Primevil - [member="Lethia Morow"]

She got no response from the creature, whatever it was it was unnatural, it looked, sounded, and acted unnatural in every way, one more reason to wipe it off the face of the galaxy. The thunder crashed and the rain fell, it was pouring, the ground started to soak into mud, and the trees started to drip in the heavy rain. Alyson drew and ignited her lightsaber. It glowed with a luminscent blue blade, sizzling in the heavy rain. It illuminated the ground under it, the darkness was rather obscuring, but the jedi had taught her ways to go around her senses, and while she was no where near a master at anything, she knew enough to see in the dark, but struggled to use force sight for much more than simple vision, she got no increased perception that others gained from force sight, as she used it it was more like glorified night vision.

Alyson watched as the creature jumped up into the trees, the creature apparently wanted a chase, if it was a chase it wanted, a chase it would get. Alyson moved her way towards the forest, it would provide cover for the creature sure, but it would ideally provide cover for Alyson as well, she turned off her lightsaber, drawing her vibroblade instead, it was not only quieter and less visible, but it would give her protection at the same time, it was made of phrik, so it could take on a lightsaber if it was needed. The darkness would provide her with the cover she needed. The creature wanted to be the hunter, but Alyson quite simply would refuse to be hunted.

Alyson climbed a tree as well, if the creature wanted to fight, they would fight on the same level, there would be no hunting foolery, she too could climb trees and leap through the forest canopy, she refused to be treated like a prey item. She climbed a tree and sat quietly in it, not making any movements. She used what she had learnt in the past, becoming a conduit for the force, sensing any use of it. She drew her sidearm, if she sense anything she would not hesitate to fire, she waited for the hunter to come to her.

 

[Zef Halo]

Port Menicha​

​

Chiloon Rift​

​

The Force rippled beside him as he spoke of the Smuggler Queen. Blood boiling with hate. It reeked of it through the Force and Vanja's next words were proof of that feeling.

Vitor was certain Lord Fa would dislike that.

A short glare to the Thirriken were enough for Vitor to conclude that the Sith Lord had felt the same through the Force and what he spoke next attested to Vitor's earlier thoughts.

He did not like it one bit.

What always surprised Avendahl was his former master's power with expressing himself. Calm, composed and completely neutral, one could still understand that the Thirriken was not joking.

In fact, he was being deadly serious.

The event reminded him of Vitor's own failure on that unknown planet with the savages. He was engulfed with rage and a blind fight for survival. Lord Fa's words after basically saving the man truly put Vitor in line.

Avendahl felt his wrist datapad beep but silenced it while remaining quite and not interrupting the interaction between Lord Fa and Vanja.

This was not his territory.

​

[member="Tai Fa"] | [member="Vanja Del'Vaan"]​

​

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Location: The Acerbitas
Objective: Steal the Seed of Rage Survive
Enemies: [The Dominion] [member="Vorian Adasca"], [member="Cedric Grayson"]
Allies: [The Primeval] [member="Lethia Morow"], [member="Moravian Zambrano"], [member="The Slave"], [member="Boethiah"], [member="Abraxas"]

Antherion knew that this paladin of darkness held no love for him. No care for him. To each one, the other was a stepping stone to greater heights, more wondrous powers, more fulfillment in the domination and destruction of others. This was something that was clean, and honest, and pure — but more importantly, it was predictable. The lack of trust was not for a deficit in understanding, so they could fight alongside one another without fear. He kept his grip on the Seed firm, and gave the once-Zambrano a look that might be described as loving, halfway between that and the look someone gives a banquet after a week of fasting, or an Acklay to a lame-legged Bantha.

Then, a plan was set in motion to kill them all. He glanced around. Doors? No, they were shutting the blast doors. Other ports of exit sealed. Then, Antherion and Abraxas were in motion, pulled by the rush of air. Thinking quickly, and with desperation characteristic of someone about to be killed, he called upon the talents he had ripped from the mind of a Shaper of Kro Var, weaving his left hand in a series of elegant motions as he pulled the air around them into a spherical 'bubble' of oxygen. It was being dragged away fast, the only way to keep with it was to move with it, and that meant they were going out. He grimaced, pulling, focusing.

Of course, having enough breathable air to last a couple minutes would matter little if their eyeballs exploded or their blood boiled.

"Abraxas, handle the pressure!" He turned, barking an order through his comlink to the droid that had been warming up his ship for what was supposed to have been a clean getaway. "Disengage the magnetic locks and lower the boarding ramp — now!"

Then, all three were tumbling, tumbling through the void in a bubble of rapidly dispersing air, feeling the heat of unfiltered radiation on their skin. It was even more vast than he had ever felt. A breathless view of a lifeless sea, enveloping them in its dark embrace.

 

[HK-36]

[member="Krest"], [member="Causstik Rahn"],

"Oh calm down about the hypocrisy Krest, back when we were training I literally threatened you or someone else with strangulation every single day, do not be so surprised I am actually doing it for once. It could be worse, it is not like I summoned a Force Storm, ashed and glassed an entire planet, and then pretended to be high and mighty adopting title of a 'Jedi Lord'"

HK quipped as he kept chocking Krest through gravitational manipulation.

At least until shots rung out from his hand cannon, the droid saw the pistol being pulled and attempted to sway aside, giving Krest relief as that pressure from around and within his throat disappeared. One shot hissed past the droid, he was as fast as Krest remembered, another cut through the air without hitting him, his other hand reached down to his own holster, and then,

TSHHHHSHSHHHHHSH

There was a blue flash of his deflector shield and a fountain of sparks from the gravity glove he used to try and crush Krest's neck as the third bullet did hit its mark,

"You red witch!"

Except he didn't say "witch"

"All this time training with melee weapons and you kharking shoot me?!"

The droid pulled out his own Magnetic Revolver, a weapon from his arsenal Krest would probably not be that familiar with since it was developed fairly recently, but he would know about HK's penchant for shatterguns, and this was another, heavy, shattergun. The droid squeezed the trigger and the revolving barrel would rotate, emptying out in a burst of six hyper velocity Neuranium pellets moving faster than the sound of them cutting through the air, designed to take down even targets armored in Beskar and Phrik, aimed for Krest's chest and torso since that was the biggest target area to shoot at from the droid's hip and there would be some spread to the shots in the revolver's signature burst fire, and the machine did not had time to worry about calculating trajectory of each shot.

Perhaps it was for the best that Krest interrupted the droid as now HK did not had to reveal one truth about his power, its weakness was prolonged usage, the machine could not really Force choke anyone for prolonged periods of time, instead he had to rely on quick but strong telekinetic bursts like crushing or throwing, the detonator was light enough to stop in mid air, but should Krest not interrupt HK, well his hold would just weaken off and disappear, it was a sort of bluff the machine did hoping it would get Krest to go into melee with him.


It was then that Causstik's pellets from his scattergun cut through the air towards them, flying towards the droid's side since HK wasn't standing with his back perfectly to Causstik, his blue deflector shield appeared once more before groaning out, finally deactivated, at least for now, some more shots hit the black plates that covered HK's organic looking armor, embedding themselves in the black chitin like material and causing the biot to hiss out dangerously,

KSSSSSSSKRH

The droid collapsed down, propelling himself forward in quick roll to put Krest between him and Causstik, standing up his fingers splayed out and pointed towards the Trandoschan,

"Smoking is bad for you Causstik."

HK quipped as he threw out another gravitational anomaly, this time from the hand he used earlier to stop a detonator, Krest would feel the manipulation shoot through him, it wasn't particularly harmful or even move him too much, but it would feel really weird, as it closed around the cigar thing Causstik sparked up, and with a comical "fwoooomp" noise HK tried to proper the cigar like a torpedo inside Causstik's mouth so that he would either choke on it or probably just eat the thing whole while it was burning without really enjoying it. If Causstik would stop it in time though then the cigar would be probably just smooshed down into a stubby weird little thing and maybe got some ash and tobacco blown in his face.

HK knew it wasn't going to be particularly harmful or damaging, but it felt like something a jerk would do.


So that was all he did, get shot in the hand, return favor by shooting back, change his position to keep an eye on both of them, and try to get Causstik to eat his own cigar.

 

[Darth Eversor]

There was no time, no time for anything. Before Abraxas could utter a word to [member="Antherion"], he could feel his body become weightless and at the mercy of the decompression of the hangar. There would be no way back onto the Acerbitas, not even trying to carve their way back into a place with a life support.

The look the thief gave the Sith before they were sucked into the empty vacuum of space was perplexing at best. They had not established themselves as allies in any sense of the word, yet the circumstance would have them consider otherwise. There would be no point to try and kill each other now, for the future of the Dread Seed was the utmost important item within their grasp.

And under no circumstances, while they were still breathing and alive, should they allow the Dominion to hold claim over the sacred artifact again.

Abraxas recalled hearing the mischievous kin of the Dark Side yell something before the roar of air being sucked out distracted him. Handle the pressure.

Assuming his unconventional partner-in-crime meant for him to sustain their pocket of air, he would do just that. Abraxas closed his eyes as felt himself drifting through nothingness, but everything at the same time. Intense beads of sweat began to form on his brow beneath his helmet as he began to struggle to fight back against the void around them.

But he would endure, at least until the inevitability of the vacuum claimed their lives.

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Location: Asteroid Field
Objective: Assault the Cathedral Ship
Complement: 60 Cerberus Shock Trooper's
Allies: Bartic Myth'randhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/13337-bartic-mythrand/
Enemies: The Slavehttp://starwarsrp.net/user/14637-the-slave/ Boethiah


It Took Zaz and his men longer than he expected to get loaded into their transports. The majority of his Cerberus detachment was still operating at full strength so there was little to refit. With their weapons primed, their ships prepared, and their hearts willing the last of the men loaded onto a transport ship with their Commander.

"Get these buckets moving!" He ordered to the pilot as his men took their seats. Half a dozen of the ships lifted off of the Asteroid Bases surface , moving towards the space their own fleet occupied. However, the Mandalorian was not sure the detachment he had prepped would be enough to take the ship he was interested in. Regardless the transports darted past Bartic's fleet with a deadly intent. As they flew past the ships Zaz tuned his comm system to the fleet's frequency, making contact with the Director. "Bartic, get me a fighter escort, now!"

Though he requested the escort there would be no waiting, the transports were rocketing into the asteroid field, determined to reach their target embedded inside.

 

[Isaac Rennek]

Port Menicha​

​

Chiloon Rif​

Vanja withheld a sneer. She did a poor job, for a slight frown became apparent as she was semi-chastised. She could try to mask her language with reasoning as much as she wanted, withhold the remarks she repeated over and over again in her mind. Her emotions betrayed her. Tai Fa could read her like an open book. Maybe that other fellow, Vitor, could too.

But as much as her anger was boiling up within her, slowly making the transition into hate, she knew Tai Fa was right. The Jedi would have her rid herself of emotions, all of them, but she knew better now. There was power in emotions. They were not bad. They drove you, motivated you. Without emotions what stopped brother for slaying brother for a larger piece of bread? Emotions was what made them sentient beings. As the Thirriken warned, they could easily control her. She could not allow that.

Vanja swallowed her pride, a task somewhat easier than swallowing her rage, but she did that too. "Fine" she replied, looking away. The tone sounded a bit sharper than she had intended, but hopefully Fa would not take offense and instead be satisfied that she had checked herself before she had wrecked herself. "I get it" she added when he followed up with the parent-like 'do you understand' question. She didn't have to be happy about it, but she'd comply. Hopefully they'd make the rodent pay anyway.

From what she had seen, Vanja bought into Tai Fa's ideology. It was cleaner. It made sense. It was above all cost effective. But she was but a pup, and it took time for her to transition into it. It was still hard to let go of the thought patterns of her past. Maybe she'd never be able to. But she was at least trying.

Her thoughts on how to proceed mostly contained killing the red Twi'lek. Taking over her business. Maybe Vanja could steer it in the right direction. Or using the other alien to break her. But the tools available to the Twi'lek rat seemed to Vanja to those easiest use to control others, which to her seemed to be what they were doing her. It took her considerable effort and self-restraint before she was able to utter the following "She could be a useful ally. Convince her to pressure the right people. Set her sailing on a wave to the top. She looks like she loves the intimidating effect that comes with power" Kark kark kark on a stick, please say no. Hopefully Tai Fa would deem her too unreliable to control and replace her.

| [member="Tai Fa"] | [member="Vitor Avendahl"] |​

 

[Boethiah]

Chiloon Rift - Cathedral ship

The Cathedral remained where it had been, and no surprises were left in store for the transports that darted through the hazardous asteroids in pursuit of their destination. However, once they closed in they'd see a massive cruiser as tall as it was long and wide in the distinct shape of a temple. Fitting the design of its Pius Dea origins, a force which once ruled the old republic with religious fervor.

Now this mighty vessel fell into Primeval hands, and they've made hefty modifications to the ancient vessel. Although it proved known that the Primeval operated these vessels once, the zealous cult had fallen into obscurity. Even aiding Mandalorians in times past when a truce had finally been declared. Pirates, rogues fleets, and other independent groups have since claimed ownership to many of these juggernauts.

Boethiah continued her meditation nonetheless, undisturbed by the actions within the ship. Sounds of footsteps running past her chamber echoed before growing quiet, much to the curiosity of her kath hounds. Without further distractions, she returned to a deeper trance and explored the force within her.

Some of it drawn naturally as with any force sensitive, others because of the spirits toying with her soul.

Have you found me yet?

One spoke to her.

[member="Zaz Tal'Verda"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Port Menicha​

​

Chiloon Rift​

​

[member="Vanja Del'Vaan"]​

[member="Vitor Avendahl"]​

Of course, Tai was not planning on keeping the Twi'lek alive at the end of this.

The Blood Regent was a liability, a threat to a carefully balanced power they could establish here, but she was also a power-broker who could assist them in their business here. If they handled it correctly... if they managed to turn her into a temporary ally and get a good glimpse of the true dejarik board.

What would happen once the Regent was dead? Tai did not think Vanja was ready, yet, for such a responsibility. Maybe Vitor could handle the arms-trade in the wake of her fall.

He was already heavily involved through his arms company.

"Possibly." the Thirriken finally responded in a noncommittal fashion. There was little reason to tip his wing already, it would be better for Vanja to learn patience and focus this way.

"I will talk to this Blood Regent then."

A shrug of the wings followed.

"In the meantime Vitor and you will start gathering up information about the gangs and the different areas they are currently occupying." Now there was a smile starting to tug at his beak, when he looked back to Vitor and focused his attention on the young humanoid.

"You will find a mutual friend of ours already working in one of the industrial zones. DX-39b, if I recall correctly."

Another wave of the wing and holograms disappeared.

"Do not fail me, please."

 

[Darth Ferus]

Shatterguns, Verpine tech, Vong armor, Void Stone, Grav gloves, Beskar/Phrik bullets, incendiary rounds. Anti Force User weaponry. Between [member="HK-36"] and [member="Causstik Rahn"] , they had enough firepower to topple any Force using order. It was almost excessive, but that was this day and age. Overwhelming amounts of tech to win was the way to go. When this was done and over with, Krest was going to have to invest in something or another.

Well, at least for when the Force wasn't able to answer his call.

Before the shots came the Force spoke to the Zabrak, whispering the danger that was yet to come. Pain focused his mind, and with subtle movements Krest moved out of the way of the shots before they were even fired. Annoyance faded from his mind as he manipulated the Force, and as the HK droid tried to move so the Zabrak was between his two foes, Krest moved with him, faster than him, to keep him in the Trandoshan's line of fire.

What's more, while the droid decided to be snarky Krest was there, his blade lashing out with it's plasma edge mercilessly.

 

[Dune Rhur]

Allies: [member="Zaz Tal'Verda"] [member="Bartic Myth'rand"]
Enemies: [member="Boethiah"] and so on
Objective: Join the Assault on the Cathedral Ship

The Bith had been listening in on the Dominion frequencies as he'd cut through space. It would seem that he'd not be going this alone. That would be just as well as he had no idea what this enemy ship was capable of. Extra firepower was welcome.

"Attention Master Tal'verda, if you don't mind, I'll be joining your escort today."

He remembered the hulking human from elsewhere. A seasoned warrior and very bad news for anyone on the opposite side. Dune could almost pity the enemy. Except kidnapping, rape, torture and murder warranted none.

 

[TB-705]

The Acerbitas

Hangar Bay

[member="Antherion"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Catalys Maijora"] | [member="Vorian Adasca"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"]

A shield disruptor parted the deflectors of the behemoth. The cloaked shuttle slipped through and into the hangar bay.

Klaxons began to blare almost immediately. Troops scurried about. The shuttle started firing indiscriminately with a pair of laser cannon turrets, before loosing a salvo of cluster missiles to obliterate personnel and enemy vessels still docked in the hangar. In a matter of moments, the whirlwind of destruction quickly resolved into a silence filled by smoke and crackling flames.

The shuttle settled down, ramp extending, and offloaded as many bloodhungry Togorians in skinsuits wielding sc'raths as its twenty-ton cargo bay would allow. Thengil followed, wearing a helmet in addition to his soft exosuit, for once. He found the thing horribly claustrophobic, but a necessity on a mission such as this.

"Secure the hangar. Leave none alive."

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

Somewhere in the depths of a different dimension of time an space. The Ex-Sith lord Nulgath could only turn a cold shoulder to the ever existing conflicts that were present in the physical plane that was life. Everlasting torment awaited them all and none of them knew it.

" What were we doing?" he asked himself listening to his voice echo in the endless void around him.

 

[Zef Halo]

INDUSTRIAL ZONE DX-39b
PORT MENICHA

After all was said and done, Lord Fa had dismissed them to do their tasks.

Delegated to work with his acolyte slightly irritated him but Vitor had not expressed his feelings about it all. He had gone immediately to pursue their objectives.

Gathering intelligence meant that there was no way Vitor and Vanja could evade Fa's spymaster. The Givin was instrumental when it came to information gathering and plotting.

Thus, the two had silently taken a vehicle to the industrial zone with Avendahl not uttering a word along the way. The pilot left them on a landing pad that belonged to a rather small factory of some sorts. At least it looked like one. The landing pad was connected via a bridge to two wide doors at the base of the building. The moment the two headed that way, the doors slid open.

They were expected and Vitor was not surprised.

Up the turbolfit they went and within a spartan office they were welcomed. Not only spartan but also markings of a battle spread all over it. Such place was not where Vitor expected to meet the exquisite Givin.

But there he was, dressed in aristocratic attire and bathed in wealth, Akash Guul.

"Ah, Mr. Avendahl and Ms. Del'Vaan." Yes, he knew everything. Guul gestured for them to sit on the divan or on one the small cushions that encircled a table.

His attention was focused on the Twi'Lek as he sat on the divan. "I am Akash Guul, Lord Fa's spymaster."

When the pleasantries ended and the two sat down, a couple of holographic projections lit up from the table. First it had been the Chiloon Rift and Port Menicha but with a few swipes in the air, the Givin quickly accessed the data that they needed.

Port Menicha, separated into three different colors - Purple, Yellow, Cyan.

The purple piece of the pie was big as yellow and cyan combined.

"Three, I would not say gangs since they are much more sophisticated than that. Three powers." Guul began his explanation. His long finger pointed at the Purple. "The Blackjacks, former miners in the Rift that had seen that if they arm their mining barges they can be a power to be reckoned with. Their slice of the pie was by far smaller than before half of the council was mysteriously murdered. Now it's bigger than the two others combined."

"The yellow used to be a small-time gunrunning family business before one Patron, the family's head, was able to manipulate a chain of events that led to overtaking a crime syndicate and in turn forming it into what it is today - The Camorra."

"And the cyan color you see. Well, a wild card, to be honest. Called The Hounds of the Rift, or just The Hounds. Used to be cheap to hire strafighter and freighter force that would fight for the highest bidding mining company in the numerous fights that the mining companies in the rift end up in. " He said before continuing. "Now, other than mercing themselves out, they are part of assassination plots, spying, drug smuggling rings just like the other two powers. "

While he was explaining, the projections would shift to give more details on the topic he was speaking of.

"Well, you might think this information makes it all easier." Guul cautiously said. "Here's the catch. All my spies have failed terribly in gathering more information. We do not know any plots going on between these three powers and neither am I sure that the Blackjacks were behind the murder of the council members despite their massive growth of territory. We do not know the relationships between these three, neither their leaders. I do not know who does our friend, the Smuggler Queen, supports and who is she against. There are many variables on Port Menicha that if we do not turn into constants, we are doomed to fail Lord Fa."

"I need ideas... and feet on the ground."

[member="Tai Fa"] | [member="Vanja Del'Vaan"]​

 

[Causstik Rahn]

[SIZE=11pt]Causstik Rahn felt a slight blow to his face. Like someone just grabbed his mouth with their hand. The Cigarra went into his gaping maw and he chewed it begrudgingly. He swallowed the tobacco and cherry whole. The Trandoshan was surprised when he discovered the taste of the cigar was actually rather delicious, better than some of the things he had eaten at least. He withdrew a few shells from his pocket and reloaded his gun all the while walking at a steady pace towards the droid and Sith.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Causstik let the fully loaded shotgun fall to his side and withdrew the Ryyk machete. A funny curved blade the Trandoshan had claimed from his first successful hunt. The former blade of a silver back Wookiee chieftain. It was a glorious hunt that Causstik had seen the war chief winning many Jagganath points. Causstik fondled the blade at the memory. One of his best. Causstik was now right atop them. He withdrew the Ryyk and swung it at HK with all his strength in a vertical swing.[/SIZE]

[member="Krest"]
[member="HK-36"]