We Take No Prisoners - Galactic Alliance Dominion of Kiffex/Kiffu

[Corey's OOC]

BYOO
n>20
Enemies: [member="Darius"]

Lucas was very particular. And he didn’t like things that were a waste. Certain beings? They were a waste. Their lives not useful to anything, or anyone. Lucas was a genetic experiment. Part Anzati, part human, he was created from eugenics and designer organs. It angered him. It made him disgusted with himself, and that made him disgusted with the people who were less than he was.

Lucas’s kind? The hybrid looked to his foe, the Jedi and grinned. He didn’t know a Sith if all he had seen were the One Sith. They were weak, false Sith. Not worthy of having the Jedi as oppositions. When the man came at him, Lucas took a step back on his heel, opposite of where the strike was coming down at.

The red blade went up, crossing the one from Darius and pushing back against him. Rage in the Force was starting to light up in his aura. Using his blade, he pushed back against the Jedi, throwing one hand away from the hilt and trying to send a blast of telekinetic energy into the Jedi's chest.

 

[Cedric Grayson]

[member="Lucas Gravois"]

Warrior he may be, Darius was woefully inexperienced. He could hold his own well enough against soldiers, and was even beginning to become somewhat of a prodigy when it came to his skill with a lightsaber, but Sith were an unknown. The only duel he had ever taken part in where his opponent was actively trying to kill him was with Abraxes, and that monster had used a broadsword rather than a lightsaber.

The wall of telekinetic energy crashed into his chest. Darius had just enough time to put up the barest level of defense; enough to keep his ribs from caving in on themselves. He was sent reeling back along the floor, cutting off his lightsaber just as he hit the ground to keep from maiming himself.

Blue eyes narrowed up at the Sith.

Bastard.

He had little doubt that his opponent would use the opening to his advantage. Calling upon the force, Darius bounced up to his feet, lightsaber humming as it came to life.

"Nice trick," his lightsaber swung in a powerful horizontal arc toward the man as he approached. Darius' style of combat revolved around using brute force to tear apart an opponent's defense rather than elegant strikes. Something this Sith might come to appreciate, and more importantly, counter.

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

Objective: A
Location: Stormvault maximum security prison. Kriffex
Allies: [member="Vittras Zerga"]
Enemies: Prison gaurds
2/20

" Ooo! Finally I get the chance to pretend im a fancy secret bodyguard." He jeered as he smirked at Zerga but from the corner of his eye he held . " You ask too many questions. Be happy we came when we did. For all I know the blasted Warden could be getting his eyes checked." he joked as he shoved a Blaster Carbine at the young Kiffars chest area. The same crimson eye flashed slightly as he did so.

" Follow the leader... And survive when we drop into the Nether." he said plainly. Drawing a Heavy Blaster pistol from jumpsuit Kezeroth cracked a fake grin as he thought. The inmates were large and the question in his mind at the momment was simple.

- How is this really gonna go down?!- he thought to himself as he looked around. His gut told him to stick close but not for long.

 

[Nubica Felidae]

[Post=2/20]​

Frustrated, she opened her eyes and put the scrap back into her pocket. She had a few pockets now, mainly down her chest and the front of her thighs. They added several kilograms to her body mass and jingled when she walked. The unfamiliar textures and cut of her disguise came courtesy of a market-stall. She was still getting used to it.

Through the grimy viewport, the planet was looming ever larger.

Almost there, she told himself.

"You're a little small for a fighter, aren't you?" a six-fingered smuggler asked her.

She turned her head the tiniest fraction. "So what? You're a little too ugly to be human." Her voice was artificially harshened by the vocoder added to enhance her disguise.

The smuggler only laughed. "You don't intimidate me, girl. I lost my ship playing pazaak in a den owned by Pe’eham. I'm going to ask him for it back, out of the goodness of his heart. What do you think of that?"

The Hutt called Pe’eham was widely known as the cruelest, most sadistic of all.

"I think that makes you stupid as well as ugly."

The smuggler laughed again, his face opening like a wound to expose a bewildering variety of snaggled teeth. She wondered at one point if the exchange might become violent, but the smuggler seemed satisfied by her response. She needed to gain their respect — and quick.

 

[Vittras Zerga]

Location: The Stormvault, a maximum security prison, Trostlos Waste, Kiffex
Objective: A
Allies: [member="Kezeroth the Unyielding"]
Enemies: Prison guards, [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="The Revenant"]
Post: 4/20

"There is no way out of here... not without a ship." Zerga stated, as if others were unaware of the fact that Stormvault was situated in the middle of Trostlos Waste, hundreds of kilometers from nearest settlement. He too knew that Guardians would not keen on negotiating with criminals, regardless of the importance of hostages the inmates were holding. Odai had effectively prolonged his life for a couple of hours, depending on how fast Sheyf dispatched scout ships. The Feeorin seemed surprisingly amused by the chaos around them and the prospect of imminent death. They made their way through the mess hall, the floor littered with dead bodies, blood smudged across the grey tiles.

"Rhysode will have your head on the platter." Cerulean eyes narrowed as Vittras took aim through the scope of blaster carabine he has just handed, effectively disposing of an entrenched prison guard on a bridge connecting two wings of the prison, some twenty meters above them.

"Warden Rhysode is in no position to demand anything. He is only needed to give us the comm codes, nothing else. Maybe I'll let you do to him what he wanted to do to you, kid. Ya know, eye for an eye, a...for...a...?" Svent snickered and busted the door of the command room open with his boot. A bald,venerable man was tied to a chair, rubber ball stuffed in his mouth to prevent him from talking. On his face, the distinct red markings of Rhysode clan, somewhat faded.

"Cut his finger off." Odai commanded coldly whilst inspecting the communication array and the activation panel that required Rhysode's fingerprint. One of the inmates took out the knife, that very same blade guards wanted to neuter Vittras with, and chopped Rhysode's index finger at knuckle. Stump was then handed to Odai, who pressed it against the identifier pad, gaining complete control of all security and communication array of the entire prison. Vittras was still ruminating over what Svent mentioned a few minutes ago, not quite certain of his role in the entire ordeal. With a crooked smile, Odai took a few moments to explain -

"You see, sonny, the Guardians are no better than us. Prideful, treacherous bastards with no other concerns other then themselves. Their reputation had always been more important than men and women who served the law. Your father was betrayed by them and so were you."
Odai's fingers danced across the keyboard as he browsed through the channels, trying to find one that broadcasted directly tu Guardian headquarters in Deadend. Upon finding the correct frequency, the gray haired man glanced over his shoulder to Zerga, offering a cryptic smile -
"Nothing more liberating than the truth, my dear son. After all these years, the Guardians exposed. By putting me behind bars, you liberated me. And finally you see how."

Odai motioned Vittras to stand beside him as he opened a visual channel, beckoning him to look into the camera.
"Introductions are not necessary, I believe. You probably know that Stormvault is now under my control. And I know your ships are already in high orbit, ready to blast us off the face of the planet. No, no, Svent Odai is not that stupid."
White teeth flashed as he smiled widely, his eyes gleaming in an eerie glow. The pleasure he experienced as his plan unfolded before his eyes was unparralleled by any vice known to man. He had been waiting for this moment since the very first time Guardians had arrested him as a troubled teen.

"With me is Vittras Zerga, you remember him? The wife-murdering psychopath among your ranks, the future Sheyf? So quick to judge, weren't you, to excuse your own incompetence.... I have the coroner's report on the autopsy of Zharia Zerga, Vitrras' late wife. Only DNA of a third man was found inside her, DNA of another Force sensitive. So, the story Zerga told the psychiatrist checked out, after all." Odai revealed, then glanced towards Zerga who was now staring at the floor, his long black mane hiding a bruised face.

"How do I know this? A birdie delivered me the case files a while ago and asked me to make them public. What better way to let the world know Guardians would rather let an innocent man rot in jail than allow for their reputation to be damaged...what better way than a direct broadcast to the media from this very studio?"
Svent paused for a moment, allowing himself to chuckle in a rather deranged fashion.
"Unless you send an unmarked spaceship for me and my men, together with two million credits transferred to an account in a bank on Gos Hutta. Oh and...don't even try to kill me. Once my heart stops beating, the files go live."

Odai tossed Rhysode's finger into the trash bin, then turned to the Feoorin.
"Kill the warden." he commanded, then uttered one last sentence into the comm - "I'm feeling generous right today...you have six hours."

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

Location: En route to The Stormvault, a maximum security prison, Trostlos Waste, Kiffex
Objective: A
Allies: [member="The Revenant"]
Enemies: Prisoners, [member="Vittras Zerga"]
Post: 1/20

Jacen slid a stun baton into a holster on his left thigh. It wasn't part of the usual arsenal, but then this wasn't the usual kind of situation they typically responded to. "Yeah I had a brief look until the list of crimes made me feel physically sick," Jacen replied. "Stun batons unless you have a clear shot free of any guards...or we come across any Wookies or other species that'll tear an arm off if you try and give them a love tap with a shock stick," he added in a raised voice for all to hear. "Or we find out they've armed themselves."

Turning to Gabriel he said: "I was hoping the wordy ginger one was going to smooth that over. If Tionne hasn't got any official word we're going to touch down outside and ask whoever's left in the prison directly. I reckon they'll take aid as it comes. By the sound of it the whole facility has turned into one rolling melee."

The shuttle gentle rocked as it slid through the atmosphere. From the darkened interior they weren't able to see the desert landscape rushing by underneath them. It was only when the ship touched down and the rear doors opened they they were given a view of the facility. The squat cuboid was built made from a uniformly dark stone. Bleak didn't even begin to describe it. As Jacen stepped out he caught angry shouts on the wind. The whole facility was surrounded by two ten metre high fences. At one of the entrances a crowd of six prisoners were trying to break into a guardhouse. A cry of terror cut through the angry shouts.

"First customers," Jacen said before using the Force to sail over the fence. He noted a marksman's tower not far from them, but it appeared to have been abandoned. One of the prisoners, a hulking Trandoshan rushed towards him. Jacen flowed around the swinging arm and gentle touched to stun baton to the back of the reptile's head. One down, another hundred or so to go. If they could rescue whoever was in the guardhouse, they could try and get permission to try and fix this mess.

 

[Liliane]

Location: Surface of Kiffex | Exact Location Unknown
Objective: D - Handle Personal Business
Allies: The Galactic Alliance
Enemies: Enemies of the Galactic Alliance
Post: [ 03/20 ]

Lilin looked at the man. And for once, she saw herself in him. The way he acted, prayed for his life... none of that was new to the girl. She'd done all of that probably more than anybody else in the galaxy. And even though it was a clear exaggeration, she could tell most people didn't find themselves in situations like these so often. But she, however, had such worries nearly every day.

She was afraid. She was afraid of everything. The darkness inside her could have taken her over any moment, she could have been destroyed by the One Sith any day. And there was nobody she could quite trust anymore. She'd become distant from her former friends of the Covenant. Not because she didn't want to spend time with them, but more because she was afraid of what could happen to her and to them if she hanged out with them.

She'd once been a person to help others who were in emotional difficulties. Now things had changed and she herself needed psychological help. But where the hell could she get it?

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Location: Sheyf’s Palace - Kiffex
Objective: A or D.
Allies: [member="Marcello Matteo"]
Enemies: Heaps.

—
An invitation was accepted a few days ago — and Kiskla hadn’t decided how best to categorize her emotions yet. She’d never been on this side of a domino. As former sweetheart of The Republic, she was involved in many a dominion - busying herself in expanding the reach of the Galactic Republic alongside the politicians of then. Now they were coming to her, offering aid and support for Kiffu’s rough patches.

It had been years since the sister planets survived on their own resources, often being conglomerated beneath another more supreme umbrella. With The Protectorate’s dissolution Kiffu had been left on their own, no longer able to rely on the support from their treaties. Her father, Kiffu’s Sheyf, was a bounty hunter by trade — not a politician. He did what he could for the people, but the big picture was difficult for him to perceive. His advisors were good, and they all shared a unity in their goal; to maintain the pride of the Kiffar and make this a planet the clans could be proud of inhabiting and contributing to.

She knew there was a certain level of resentment toward her. Her decisions were beyond the now, and she was a fairly capable diplomat. The resentment stemmed from her allocation of time in recent years. Although The Protectorate and The Republic were friendly, she had dedicated many years to The Republic rather than the immediate efforts on her sister planets. She wasn’t a stranger to the sandy spheres but she was not as involved as they believed they should have been as an heiress.

“I’ve never been a recipient of an invitation like this.” Kiskla commented aloud, absently keeping her eyes on the skyline as she shared company with her chosen. Ships were beginning to pepper the skyline - ones that boasted a logo of a united faction. The Galactic Alliance they called themselves. [member="Marcello Matteo"] had given her a brief overview of the faction’s goals and motivations; how they operated, who they were composed of, etcetera. He was a part of their efforts - which helped sway her interest. "It's odd, accepting rather than delivering."

The courtyard where the representatives of the Alliance would be lead into was lined with broad-shouldered guardians - male and female like. It was like two thick lines, drawn with black markers. The uniforms had taken a turn from the purple of the past and were simply black with the odd golden highlight. A recommendation from history for the warrior nation — if you bleed, it cannot be seen in black. To bleed was an offence to her people. Something Kiskla too, took very seriously; hence the reason she’d always worn black throughout her years. Many had been somewhat alarmed at first, considering her positioning in the light and association with the dark clothing being a representation of the darkness — a poor judgement on aesthetic but a judgement that occurred nevertheless. She just, as usual, proved most wrong.

Light eyes shifted from the skyline and back to the handsome features of Marcello, a simper cuing immediately. Such a peaceful moment was interrupted by her privy- an interconnection she had on every ingoing and outgoing regulated and legal channel between the sister planets. This was a very chatty line, but she’d had the cue set only for incoming transmissions from unknown / unregistered senders. Hence, [member="Tionne Thanewulf"]’s message came through loud and clear.

“Your Alliance has a good tongue in their pocket.” The young woman commented, all-too familiar with the etiquette of persuasive speech. There was a return, a simple click from her typically-silent father allowing permission for the ships to land. Words had little effect on the people — especially when her royal predecessors had been the powerful Vos clan. A clan able to keep the Kiffu guardians neutral during the war.

Kiskla’s plan was to wait here, see their next steps. A simple broadcast of their plans didn’t cover the discussion of next steps. Politics still played a part, especially with a Sheyf who was as relatively greedy and selfish as her father. Her decision was tied between the necessity to instruct and deliberate —— or to respond to the comm for assistance at the prisons.

Decisions, decisions.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Location: The Stormvault, a maximum security prison, Trostlos Waste, Kiffex
Objective: A
Allies: [member="Jacen Voidstalker"], other Hounds
Enemies: Prisoners, [member="Vittras Zerga"] (for now)
Post: 2/20

"Melee?" He pulled the firelance from the small cabinet, pulling the slide back. "Good, I brought a nice bludgeoning weapon for that..." He feigned a yawn, feeling the pop of his ears as they descended towards the facility. As the door opened, he looked towards the structure and spoke before the Jedi Master had a chance to move forward. "You bring any rope?" Guess not.

He ran behind the man, armorweave robe flicking behind him, and he jumped over just as Jacen cleared the first wall. Landing in a plum of impact, brown eyes darted towards the guardtower as he was smacked across the side by a large pipe, flinging him back into the wall he just jumped over. Feeling the impact gel harden across the band of impact, he looked up to see a large Coynite approaching him. Kriff. Ducking down, the bar smacked against the duracrete as he smashed bare foot with the stock of the weapon. Vaulting upward, he uppercut the prisoner with the spun stock of the firelance. Flailing back, Gabriel brought the weapon back into proper placement and fired three rounds into the chest, sending the man down for the time being.

Running up to Jacen just in time to deal with another prisoner, Gabriel caught a side wise glance with the frame of the rifle. He heard the knuckles break against metal. Letting the weapon fall to the gravity of the strap, he stepped forward and caught the next punch beneath the armpit, ensnaring the arm. With a clench of the collar, he pulled the small Nagai to him and headbutted him one time. It was all that was needed to put the man down for the time being.

"We need to get up there...now!" He screamed out, the hornets nest kicked and quickly feeling the rumble.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="The Revenant"]

"Go for the tower!" Jacen called as he was pressed back against the fence. The broad shouldered human with a deep scar that ran from nose to ear kept a solid grip on Jacen's forearm. The stun baton flickered impotently to one side. Using the Force to hold himself steady, Jacen brought one foot up and slammed it into the side of the prisoner's knee. The prisoner grunted in pain, but was forced down onto one knee. The Jedi Marshall quickly twisted free and transitioned into a choke hold, bearing the man to the ground. He was no martial artist - not by any stretch - but he had a good grounding in grappling techniques.

Several prisoners stubbornly hammered away at the guardhouse. One had pushed a metal pole through the reinforced windows and was trying to use the leverage to pry it out of the sill. They needed to secure the yard if they were to open the gates and let the commandos who'd come along for the mission into the facility. If they got some rifles up on the tower that would be a good start, but Jacen needed to get the guards inside that guardhouse to safety.

He recovered his stun baton and leapt up onto the guardhouse roof. His saber snapped into life and he started to carve a hole through the reinforced duracrete. One of the prisoner's clambered up onto the roof after him, but a gentle telekinetic shove sent him sprawling back down.

 

[Corey's OOC]

BYOO
n>20
Enemies: [member="Darius"]

Trick? Lucas was ready for anything, and unlike most Sith, he was willing to lose it all in order to win it all. The Sith today were worried about their castles and their rule, when there were so many parts of the galaxy that needed to be combined, needed to become order. Needed to be united under the Sith. But no, they were thinking too small, a world would not last forever if there was a taste of something different outside the system. That was where Lucas knew he was better than the rest.

He thought galactically.

When the man came at him again, Lucas swung his blade out at it, from his center to his foe’s blade, catching and trapping it. He put pressure on the opposing blade, a dark grin and look in his eyes. Lucas was just getting started.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Objective: Approach and apprehend the target of interest, [member="Vittras Zerga"]
Allies: Shriek-Hawk Mercs
Enemies: Unknown

A Mandalorian Calvary-class frigate dropped out of hyperspace above Kiffex. It hung ominously in the stars above the planet, Mordecai's grandmother's homeworld. The frigate's hangar doors opened and two Mandalorian LAATs flew out of the open doors. Inside, Mordecai was silent as the men and women of the Shriek-Hawk mercenaries chatted and joked. He looked at the T-shaped visor of his helmet contemplating his life up to this point. How Gilamar had taken him under his wing despite never asking for a son, especially one as messed up as he was.

The vehicle shook violently as the LAAT entered the atmosphere, snapping him back to the mission at hand. He was leading his fire team. The mission was simple, the GA thought a certain individual would be sympathetic to their cause. They were to retrieve him and somehow convince him to join the GA. He wasn't much of a talker, so that was going to be interesting.

"Hey, Cai, who do you think'll win the Keldabe cup?"

"Huh? Oh...Uh..."

"Look Jun! You're making him blush!" Mordecai's embarrassment was ended by a sultry voice over the coms,

"Alright, we're coming up on the prison. Get ready to drop!"

Mordecai snapped his helmet into place as the lights in the troop drop bay turned from red to green and the bay door slid open. It seemed the prison was having a riot...That made their job much easier.

"You heard the man! Get ready to drop Shriek-Hawks!" He ran ahead of the group and leaped from the LAAT followed by the others. The desert below was bustling with activity. Sirens wailed and automated security was picking them up as hostile, firing up at the small fire team. Well...It was time to get to work.

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

Location: Stormvault, Maximum Secturity, Kriffex, Hallways
Allies: [member="Vittras Zerga"]
Enemies: [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="The Revenant"] <---?
Objective A: Kill the Warden.

Kill the Warden? Kezeroth stepped forward. " You either hate my face or love it Svent." he muttered some. Looking around he nodded his head to the other inmates that wanted to follow him. Raising a hand he smirked. " Tag along if you want, Regardless consider the Warden dead." Letting those who wanted to tag along get ready Kezeroth glanced at [member="Vittras Zerga"].
" Hey Kid you should come along with me. I know you got something to settle with the Warden." The Feeorin held his smirk.

Slowly walking back he shouted " Alright lets have some fun!" As Kezeroth exited the communications he frowned some. He didnt like taking orders infact he never did. But killing the Warden was going to be fun. Walking over the bodies of inmates and guards Kezeroth held his blaster close in case some guards were still hiding somewhere. Stopping at a wall the Feeorin examined the emergency exit map.

- Hmmm. OK. Halls, Mess Hall, Warden. Easy.- he thought to himself. If anything went wrong then all he would be forced to really become Unyielding.

 

[Cedric Grayson]

[member="Lucas Gravois"]

Sword crashed against sword. Sparks flew up like fireworks. Darius pressed his lips into a thin line. He'd hoped to take this man apart with a single blow - instead he was going to have a contest. Not the way he wanted to spend his evening.

There was no room for words. Darius grit his teeth as he attempted to force the man back, only to fail. Lucas was physically stronger than the padawan, and the lock soon broke - resulting in Darius stumbling back and struggling to regain his bearings.

With a moment's thought he activated his distress beacon for anyone in the area to respond, and held up his blade to defend himself. Lucas had the upper hand for the moment when it came to sword play, and Darius would have to settle for simple survival.

 

[Marcus Itera]

Location: Undesignated Starport
Objective: BYOO - Respond to distress beacon
Allies: [member="Darius"]
Foes: [member="Lucas Gravois"]
Post: [01/20]

The Alliance had tasked Marcus with maintaining order on this world rather than doing something fun. It was a job for law enforcement and military police and they'd sent a supercommando to get the job done. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his beskar'gam anyways, along with the assortment of weaponry bristling upon his form. From wrist flamethrowers to the blaster carbine cradled within his arms as he walked along, watching as local authorities escorted people into their homes.

Apparently many of these people had relatives or friends locked up, and whatever was happening over the HoloNet was getting them rather angsty. The Mandalorian's gaze swept across stricken faces, contorted snarls, and teary eyes as they were driven back. Some of it wasn't even that bad; just parents pleading for the freedom of their child, or even children crying out for long gone parents.

Marcus swallowed and just kept walking along.

"Hey," Miranda broke in, "We've got something pinging."

"What is it?"

"Distress beacon." It took her a moment to zero in on the position. "Literally a block away, to our west. Coming from a Jedi, I believe. At least that's who the beacon is registered under."

Strange. Marcus could've sworn Jedi didn't usually need help. They were usually the ones dishing in out in the form of swift justice or humanitarian aid. Very rarely did their wickedly efficient laser-swords fail to beat their opponent; unless they were wearing beskar'gam, of course.

"Let's roll," he mumbled and took off.

Getting to the starport was easier than he'd expected. The cleared streets offered ample opportunity to drop into a full sprint, his rybcoarse-infused muscles working to their max. The door was shut, and that was a problem.

The man lowered his shoulder and smashed through the door with the aid of Mandalorian iron. Man, he loved that stuff.

A flash of blue and red caught his attention immediately, and it didn't take a college degree to understand what which color meant what. The AR-47 was shouldered instantaneously, the rifle coming to bear upon the wielder of the crimson saber. Fully automatic, the blaster rifle sent throes of blistering bolts towards the antangonist.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Location: Sheyf's Palace - Kiffex
Objective: D
Allies: [member="Kiskla Grayson"]
Enemies: TBD
[1/20]

Glacial blue eyes never once wavered from that which was Marcello's continuous object of interest and desire when he was not otherwise engaged in activities that could have a direct effect on his life or the lives of others. It wasn't exactly an emotion or reality he'd ever truly expected to share with another. While Kiska was busy musing about the differences her life had somewhat recently adopted, the Naboo native stood from his seated position to finish dressing himself.

Tearing his gaze away from Kiskla, Marcello's attention momentarily lingered on his datapad that was receiving continuous situation updates from Kiffu. It appeared as though the Galactic Alliance's arrival had nearly perfectly coincided with a few issues. Clipping the worn cylindrical hilt of his lightsaber to his belt, Marcello made his way towards the balcony, gazing out at the skyline. "My Alliance..."

The Jedi Master allowed a brief pause to hang in the air between himself and his chosen. "They have a clear talent for oration, yes." Turning his head to face Kiskla once more, Marcello exhaled softly. "Yet it would seem that diplomacy is all too quickly forced to take a backseat. Alliance military forces have landed on Kiffu." With a handful of long, powerful strides, Marcello glided just past Kiskla to collect his datapad. Quickly, he scrolled to the most recent broadcast.

"I have to go." Allowing his bright gaze to drift upwards to Kiskla's white irises, Marcello managed a thin smile. "I'll see you soon, gorgeous." Grabbing his brown flight jacket, the Jedi Master stepped up to Kiskla and wrapped her into an unfortunately brief embrace and delivered a passionate kiss to her lips.

When the kiss broke, the Jedi Master was almost immediately on his communicator. Though Kiskla Grayson held all of his attentions when they were together and often when they were apart, the transition to warrior for Marcello was always immediate and seamless. Now he could only hope [member="Khyon Drogo"] would play nice with the Alliance troops. "Khyon. I can't even step away for a weekend without you letting a prison break happen? The Sheyf extended an invitation to the Alliance just now, by the way." It would have undoubtedly taken time for a command like that to filter through to all elements of the Kiffu Guardians - particularly those not presently on Kiffex. "I'll be there soon."

 

[Audren Sykes]

Objective: BYOO
Post: 2/20

Audren hadn't hidden who he was upon landing, which he'd done before most of the Alliance had arrived in-system. He wore Jedi robes and carried his lightsaber and vibroknife. While he didn't openly declare himself as a Jedi and include titles as so many seemed to enjoy doing, he didn't hide. The robes did garner a few second glances as he walked down the street however. Or maybe it was the lightsaber.

It was only common sense to assume that there wouldn't be shops lined up in the street to teach Psychometry. If it followed the manner of the Force - logical, considering it was largely a Force-based power - it was probably passed down through families as well as showing up randomly. Family members likely taught family members, but there had to be some method for the remainder to learn. One percent of the population was not an inconsiderable amount after all. Shops would be gauche, but a dojo...a dojo might work within the limitations. Problem was finding one, and making sure it was one that taught Psychometry rather than martial arts. So what did the Padawan do? He ducked into a shop.

What? He had a good feeling about it.

The shop was a small one, mostly clothing it appeared but also a few other types of items. There weren't any shoppers, just an older Kiffar behind the counter and a younger one stocking the sales floor. The one behind the counter was busy as well, going over some sort of report printed on flimsi. He didn't even bother to glance at the Jedi as he closed on the counter. No wonder the place was devoid of customers.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I'd find someone to teach me Psychometry?"

"You either have it or you don't kid, can't be taught."

"I agree that the ability can be inborn, but teaching is necessary."

That made the older man look up at the Padawan. He took in the robes for a second, and his gaze lingered on the lightsaber hilt for a moment more before returning his gaze to Audren's.

"Don't you Jedi have your own teachers?"

"We do, but I'd rather learn it from one who's comfortable with it rather than a fringe power."

A snort this time.

"Go back to your Temple, boy. Like I said, you either have it or you don't."

"It has to be taught somehow, sir. Even if it is known instinctively, control has to be taught. Otherwise prom night tuxedo rentals would get awkward really fast."

This time there was a chuckle from the man, accompanied by an expression of mirth across his face as he put his stylus down.

"True at that. Do you always argue with your elders, boy?"

"No sir, but I do have discussions with them."

"Alright, fair enough. Give me a minute for Zhane to take over, then we'll start the teaching."

Audren hoped the surprise he felt was kept from his face as he nodded. His surprise wasn't enough to mask the sudden warning from the Force though: he was about to be attacked. A solid and silent swing to his middle back. Curiously, there was no menace in the air. With a sigh, the Sephi took a step back and to the left. The positioning precluded the attack, setting him up so his back took the hit from forearms rather than a metal bar. Unpleasant, but not debilitating. At the same time his right hand reached out and snagged the bar, then pulled it towards the Padawan's left side. In combination with his position in relation to the attacker's arms, this yanked the bar right out of his hands and into the Jedi's. A rotation of the wrist as his arm moved, and when the motion stopped the top of the bar was a millimeter away from the attacker's throat.

"Congratulations, you passed. Zhane, take over here. Our Jedi friend has some learning to do."

A glance showed that the attacker was indeed the younger clerk, who had a sheepish grin on his face. Shaking his own head, Audren handed the employee back his metal bar and followed the older Kiffar into the back of the establishment.

 

[Nubica Felidae]

[Post=3/20]​

"Tell your friend here," the smuggler said, leaning close, "That if he really wants to pass himself off as a rancor racer, he'll have to roughen his hide up some. Those guys have a life expectancy of less than five minutes. You don't last longer than that without some kind of damage."

He turned away to butt heads with someone else, leaving Nubica and her fellow undercover Jedi to exchange a quick glance.

"I'll put on the mask when we land," her whispered to her. He’d previously complained about disliking the grotesque appearance it lent him and the stench of poorly cured leather. "You can say I told you so then."

She just nodded. He was glad he couldn't see her expression. Smug would probably have summed it up best.

And then the klaxon sounded...ten minutes to touch-down. They all buckled up and ensured they had what they needed - there was no telling if it was to be a hot landing.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

The mercs fell through the air, their jetpacks and repulsorpacks directing them as they descended upon the prison. Their shuttles' weapons rained down green beams of destruction, destroying the cannons firing up at the small fire team. Coms were silent outside of the occasional grunts of displeasure as the wind knocked them about. They landed on the roof over the cell block their target was supposed to be in.

"Did we all make it?"

"Aye," came the unanimous answer from his team.

"Jun, get those explosives ready, we breach in two minutes," but Jun was already laying down the circle of explosive foam that would blow the roof away, allowing the team to get in and do their job. "Remember, blasters set to stun. This may be a prison break, but the GA wants to keep at least half way decent relations with Kiffu and Kiffex. No killing unless absolutely necessary." On that note he set his own blaster to stun.

[member="Kezeroth the Unyielding"] [member="Vittras Zerga"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Location: The Stormvault, a maximum security prison, Trostlos Waste, Kiffex
Objective: A
Allies: [member="Jacen Voidstalker"], other Hounds
Enemies: Prisoners, [member="Vittras Zerga"] (for now)
Post: 3/20

A nod delivered a jump that followed, just in time for a monstrous human to grab at the armorweave robe and choke the Master from the air. With a thud, he hit the ground on his back and rolled out from a stomp and scream. Somewhere along the way, he had lost the firelance, noting the strap hanging from the roof now. Blowing air up, disheveled hair freed from his face, he stepped back at the first swing, hearing the ignition of a lightsaber. No death, he reiterated to himself, as his mind drifted to the ease of the energy weapon hanging on his back. A part of him wanted to take this beast down with his bare hands, the fight always looking for a crawl back in. But now wasn't the time for games.

Pushing his foot out with a slide, he kicked up dirt and blasted a telekinetic push through it. Enough to send the man hurdling into the chain link fence, bouncing away with a cough and stammer. Using the time to his advantage, Gabriel leaped upward to find the Jedi Marshall carving hole in the roof of the building. Grabbing the flung firelance rifle, he popped the ammo cannister from it and refilled as he stood at the mans back. Popping off a round, the energy skated across the roof before hitting clinging fingers, sending a man following back to the ground. Well, he was a man, just not sure on the species. Hard to tell based on claws.

"Quickly Jacen..." He spit out through clenched teeth. A Nagai had mounted the roof top but a well placed shot sent him flailing back down to the ground. The limitations of these tactics were revealing the crux. These prisoners weren't being dissuaded by the simple threat of pain and stun.