Fandom A Star Wars Story

[SpaceDandy]

Present


Atlas returned to the bar and slide back on to the bar stool with a half drunken grace. He grabbed a remote from behind the bar clicking the center button as the lights dimmed, the disco ball began to turn and classic electronic disco music played. He looked at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar as a man haunted.


Past


Atlas swaggered back to the table in the far right corner with a view of the dance floor where the blue haired woman was sitting alone. He plopped himself in the booth seat next to her facing the dance floor with his back to the wall. She gave him a side longed glance as he kicked back another drink of his ale. “So still playing the fool I see?” Inquired the Blue haired woman.


Atlas gave her a lopsided grin “I learned from the best.” he replied. She shook her head smirking and replied, “You are one of the few students i had that could master the art of playing dumb.” Atlas felt the condensation forming on his mug and took another small drink before replying, “Who says I’m pretending?” She sneered at his response ignoring it. “So was your mission successful?” she asked looking around adjusting her blue vest covering her large chest.


Atlas looked sideways at her noticing her outfit for the first time. She looked like something out of a old West Holofilm. She had black nerf hid boots and pants with a red button up shirt and a blue leather vest. His keen senses noted the bulge of a few hold out weapons on her person. He also noted the small adjustment of her vest just then and her change in attitude. He spoke to Athena in his mind, “Athena any notable threats in the room?”


Present


A group of children poured out of the crew quarters as the music began. Atlas rolled his eyes as a fit looking woman in brown robes followed them out. “Mr. Atlas..” she began just then noticing he was drinking. “Don’t you think in a time like this it would be prudent to be of sound mind and body?” She continued. Atlas felt a presence attempting to find its way into his mind. He quickly shut it out using Athena to garble his thoughts. One the the children looked dismayed and Atlas knew right away one of the younglings was attempting to probe his mind.


Atlas shook it off and set his drink down on the bar getting up nonchalantly and putting on an innocent face with his hands opened out shrugging. “Were fine baby, No one’s going to find ol Atlas and you lot where we're going… Well not yet anyhow, come on pull up a seat have a drink?” he replied. She gave him a deep scowl and returned her attention to the children. “Children get back to your assigned quarters. I am sorry Mr. Atlas but a Jedi does not indulge in such base needs.” Atlas smirked enjoying getting under the woman's skin.

 

[QizPizza]

Orimos Mir took a deep breath and focused his rifle on his target. The night sky of Dromund Kaas shrouded the outskirts of Kaas City in darkness, where the city lights did not shine. Ori's night vision visor allowed him to see the Imperial convoy perfectly. One armored transport and four light escort speeders carrying four troops each. The transport's driver was already in his sights, but Ori waited until the convoy reached the ambush point stations right at the entrance of an alleyway. It was only a matter a minutes until the first speeder triggered the laser trip mine. The speeder went up in a fiery explosion, stopping the convoy in its tracks. Four troopers down, eleven more to go. As the convoy scrambled to regain order, Ori fired his rifle at the transport driver. Five.

From there on, the Imperial troopers all dismounted and ran for the cover of the abandoned buildings that surrounded them. As soon as a group of soldiers entered the building next to the alleyway, a thermal detonator went off, sending four bodies flying. Nine. The others were luckier, narrowly avoiding a second detonator explosion from the building across the street. It was clear that the group was in chaos. A trooper went to take control of the transport, but another shot from Ori's rifle ended his life right there. Ten. The Mandalorian picked off two more soldiers before they got smart and hide from Ori's line of fire on the other side of the armored transport. Eleven, twelve.

Frowning, Ori jumped off the building he was on and used his jetpack to cushion his landing. He wished he could use a thermal detonator to make his life easier, but that would potentially damage the cargo inside the transport. That was something that would hurt his payday. He clipped his rifle onto the back mounted weapon rack and drew the pistol on his thigh. He slowly approached the transport. One of the troops decided to stick his head out, only to be met with a grappling line piercing his helmet. The grappling hook itself did no damage, but the accompanying blaster shots easily killed the man. Thirteen. Ori threw out a smoke bomb before moving in.

The nearest soldier was caught off-guard and a simple knuckle-blade slit his throat wide open. Fourteen. The last three began to blindly fire through the smoke, only giving away their positions. Ori fired three bolts into one soldier, before grabbing another from behind to use as a human shield. Fifteen. This soldier met his unfortunate end at the hands of his fellow soldier, who attempted to shoot the squad's unknown assailant. Sixteen. Ori threw the dead body in his hands at the final soldier and sent a knuckle blade into the trooper's throat. Seventeen.

Ori stepped away from the bodies and walked to the transport's door, where he took out a canister of thermite paste and applied it to the lock holding the vehicle's cargo bay shut. It was only a matter of seconds before the metal burned away and exposed the interior of the vehicle. The transport was loaded to the brim with weapons and munitions crates. Ori did a quick check to make sure all the goods were there. Chuckling, he stuffed a few thermal detonators into his explosives satchel before going to deal with the ambush scene.

An hour later, Ori and his allies were safely in space with all the weapons from the convoy. He was on board his ship, the Kandosii III. His allies had helped him to dispose of the bodies and salvage the speeders. As he kicked back in the pilot's seat, a man in a full set of black and blue Mandalorian armor walked into the cockpit. "Sol'yc, what have you got for me?"

"Our contact wants to meet on Dantooine. Farming planet and all with not much to look at except the capital."

"I know what Dantooine is. I'm not retarded... Alright, go take Reverend and Massk to finish the transaction. I'll restock the ship and find us another job. Feel free to hit the clubs afterwards. And as always, make sure Rev doesn't do anything stupid."

"Gotcha. Making the jump to Dantooine and going to make sure that Rev hasn't drank his ass off yet."

The Kandosii III arrived in a matter of hours with its Class 0.8 Hyperdrive and set down in the spaceport of Garang. Ori and his crew of mercenaries both Mandalorian and otherwise began to unload all the weapons. As a precaution, all the Imperial crates were jettisoned into space and the goods were placed into standard luxury goods containers. Sol'yc took Reverend and Massk to a spaceport on the other side of the city. Sol'yc would keep the two in check; Reverend was a dar'manda with a drinking problem and Massk was a temperamental Trandoshan Mandalorian, but Sol'yc was cool headed enough to ensure neither of them botched up the mission. Ori left the ship in the care of their sniper, Sybilla; her sister Rynilla, the medic; and the ship mechanic, Eeji. The two Twi'leks and Jawa could take care of themselves while Ori dealt with business.

Strolling down the streets of Garang, Ori easily parted the crowds of locals with his armor. No one in their right mind would cross a Mandalorian packing enough explosives to level a city block with ease. Besides that, there is the history of Mandalorian raiders patrolling the countryside exploiting the farmers. Frankly, those Mandalorians disgusted Ori; they had no honor to speak of, attacking civilians. He went directly to the market and to the local trading post. "Two crates of ration kits, three sets of air scrubber filters, a water filter, and two tanks of the strongest bacta you have."

The trade post operator quickly complied, and within minutes, he brought out a repulsor lift loaded with crates and tanks. "Take that to Dock 7, will you? And know any places with good alcohol around here?"

"Try the Force Jump. And delivery is an additional 20 credits."

Ori paid the man and stuck a tracker on one of the crates just in case the man decided to get smart. Not that the man would consider crossing a Mandalorian. When the man was well away to the spacedocks, Ori wandered the streets looking for the "Force Jump." He finally found the place with the assistance of the not-so-subtle blue neon sign. He shook his head in mild disapproval of the sign. Both cringing at the terrible name and at the image of the topless Twi'lek. He had seen enough naked Twi'leks with Syb and Ryn's antics.

Stepping into the bar, he took off his helmet, only to be assaulted by blaring techno music. Ori ran his free hand through his hair to comb it back into place as he walked up to the bar counter. The Mandalorian laid a credit chip on the counter and requested a drink, "Twi'lek liquor if you have it." The drink was soon handed to Ori, which he sipped as he surveyed the club.

Orimos "Dar'yaim" Mir​

Health: 100%

Status: Calm/Relaxed
Location: Dantooine - Garang - "Force Jump!"
Interacting With: SpaceDandy
​

 

[SpaceDandy]

Present


Atlas sighed as the commotion of younglings began to die down. “Athena what is the ship status” asked Atlas mentally. “We should arrive at Nar Shaddaa in 12 hours using random Light Speed jumps to avoid detection.” She replied internally. Atlas slide the bottle back into the rack behind the bar. He opened the mini fridge and pulled out a cold frosty bottle of Corellian Ale popping the top of the bottle off on the corner of the bar.


Past

“A Mandalorian entered the bar a few moments ago. A few of the Twi'lek bouncers around the room are armed. The large group of dancers on the floor are an unknown element.” replied Athena. Atlas smiled back at the beautiful woman with blue hair. “So Hera… you know the mission is complete or I wouldn’t be here.” he asked taking a swig of ale. A smile slowly crept across Hera’s face as she watched Atlas. “So the senator is more agreeable with SIS plans?” Hera asked.


Atlas frowned and took another sip of his ale. “I did what was asked of me…” He replied with a hint of disdain. Atlas noticed two skulking shadows at the edge of the dance floor. “So.. are you ready for next assignment?” Hera asked with a hint of amusement in her voice. Atlas looked over at her as Athena whispered in his mind. “Atlas two large human males are making their way through the dance floor in our direction.” Hera had shifted positions with her right leg over her left. She had leaned over so more of her top was revealed in his direction. She caught his eyes. “It's been a while since our last training session?” Hera continued with a hint of laughter in her voice.


Atlas gave her a smirk and shrugged. “I know the art of carnal knowledge information gathering was one of the more enjoyable lessons, but that was some time ago.” he replied. “You still have much to learn.” she replied with a bitter sense of amusement. Atlas knocked back the rest of the beer and set down the empty mug. “So let's get down to brass tacks Hera, what do you want?”


Atlas noticed the two shadows approach the the table as they materialized into two large men in expensive suits sitting down across from Hera and Atlas. Athena whispered in his mind “They are both armed with taser batons. They also appear to be genetically enhanced human male SIS agents.” Atlas’s hand naturally moved to his blaster on his hip. “I wouldn't do that if I were you….These two gentlemen are here to help us facilitate a new understanding of the universe.” Atlas frowned at her. “So what is this new understanding you manipulative I'm uncultured..”


Hera let a deep scowl roll over her face and she leaned back snapping her fingers at the same time. The largest of the two agents sitting closest to Atlas popped up quickly and slammed Atlas’s face into the table knocked the mug off the table causing the mug to shatter on the floor. The man was sitting back down at the table before the mug even hit the floor. Atlas felt warm liquid drip from his nose onto his lips. He tasted the iron in his mouth as he wiped the warm blood off of his face.


Atlas let a large grin creep across his face as he leaned back. “I never realised how touchie you have become.” She frowned and sighed rolling her eyes in exasperation. “You were always bull headed, take this joker to the back room so we can have a more private discussion about his future.” Atlas put his hands up and shrugged. “ I can walk there myself thank you..” Atlas got up slowly and began walking to the back of the club. He looked around the room. “It appears bouncers in this club as well as the gentlemen in suits are working for Hera.” stated Athena coldy in his mind. “I can see that...If I make a run for it when we get to the dance floor what are my chances of escape.” replied Atlas. “25% chance of successful escape from the club..Then a statistically significantly higher chance once out in the streets.” said Athena. Atlas smiled.

The men in suits walked behind him on either side of him. As they approached the dancing crowed in the middle of the room halfway to the back door as a new song began.

(Song Lyrics:
Sweet dreams of rhythm and dancing
Sweet dreams of passion through the night
Sweet dreams are taking over
Sweet dreams of dancing through the night )

Atlas let a feral grin creep across his face. He rolled his shoulders stretching and right before he was going to walk around the edge of the crowd he made his move.

(Song Lyrics:
Ola ola eh (through the night)
Ola ola eh (through the night yeah)
Ola ola eh (hey yeah)
Ola ola eh (sweet dream)

Atlas threw himself backwards throwing both his elbows back into the faces of the men in suits. They both staggered backwards blood pouring out their noses as Atlas jumped forwards towards the dance floor.

QizPizza

 

[QizPizza]

Ori finished his drink and put his helmet back on, surveying the club for anyone that was identified as a bounty broker. As he searched, his visor honed in on a pair of individuals sitting in the corner. One was a man dressed as a merchant, but he was packing a blaster as well as some kind of implants that resisted his scans. That was definitely not hardware that any normal merchant would come across. He associate was a woman wearing a rather antiquated outfit, and she was armed several weapons. Not your run of the mill couple he would guess. He watched the scene play out feigning boredom to the bartender.

The lone Mandalorian watched as two human men with taser batons approached the pair. This didn't bode well. They weren't bouncers, given their expensive choice of clothing and they didn't exactly come across as friendly. If being around Reverend has taught Ori anything, when men like this show up at a bar, a fight's going to break out. Ori turned to the bartender, "Hey, babe, I have a feeling things are going to get messy around here. Might want to start putting the booze away."

"As long as you don't use explosives..."

"Heh, no can do. A heads up is all I can do, babe."

In the moment that Ori turned away, the fight had already started. The "merchant" walked towards the crowd of dancers, followed by the men in suits and Ori himself. This man seemed pretty shady. Take out all parties involved and turn him for bounty. If he doesn't happen to have a bounty, then Ori could get his hands on those implants, make some replications, and sell them on the Dark Net. To be perfectly honest, Ori wasn't interested in the bounty at all. The software and hardware was completely different from anything he'd seen before, so it would be nice to get his hands on some cool new toys.

The man with the implants suddenly made his moved, driving his elbows into their faces and sending them back into Ori. The men were bigger than the Mandalorian they crashed into, but Ori did not give way. Instead, he followed up by wrapping his grappling line around one of the men's neck like a garotte and firing a poison dart into the other one. The one who took the dart surprisingly didn't immediately die. Then again, Ori usually coated those in a relatively common poison, so it wasn't impossible for someone to develop an immunity.

The one Ori was choking attempted to drive the stun baton into Ori's side, but Ori only responded by snapping the man's neck. This one stayed down, while the one who took the dart went in with his own stun baton. Ori wanted to let loose his full arsenal, but there were too many civilians in the club. Explosives and flamethrowers would only lead to unnecessary damage another huge bounty on Ori's head. The Mandalorian approached the man with implants and whistled to get his attention. "You look like you could use some help. You should know what Mandalorians are great at." Ori proved that he was there to help by drawing one of his knives and throwing it straight into the skull of an approaching bouncer.

Orimos "Dar'yaim" Mir​

Health: 100%

Status: Calm/Relaxed
Location: Dantooine - Garang - "Force Jump!"
Interacting With: SpaceDandy
​

 

[Croaker]

Feather - Jamadir of The Schar​

The Spatz.
A hallowed city of degenerates coasting through the galactic ocean, its holy visage disgracing countless systems; spreading addiction, sex, and blood to every planet its people touch. It is a blasphemous creation, one meant to spit upon the name of any god laying eyes upon it.
The Spatz’s structure is clearly a crude representation of archaic architecture, purporting the image of a grand cathedral. However, this lavish city’s divine shape was not built to impress or feed the ego of a god, but rather to please that of a single man.
This is the home of the Schar, the heart of their empire.

On the outside, the Spatz might conjure images of a hive to one’s mind, for spilling forth from the many ports of the ship, space faring crafts depart with their goods and return with their payment. The space around the Spatz is thick with air-traffic, a cloud of mercenary and cargo ships.
Deep within the ship’s bowels, Feather – Jamadir of the Schar – has begun delegating orders to his horde of workers. There is a mess that needs cleaning, and Feather’s people would need to work double time to wrangle in the chaos.
As it turned out, a group of launderers had been stealing assets from the Schar on Tatooine. It was a tragedy really. That family had been working with the Schar for years, and they had even earned themselves the title of Par’chin. Now their bodies were roasting in the sun, and their blood feeding a crevasse hundreds of miles away from civilization.
Still, they deserved no sympathy. Their death was simply a testament to the betrayal they and their indecent ilk had committed.
Paperwork was being filed, contracts writ, and accounting overseen. It would take time to locate the lost assets and collect on them, though thankfully Feather had managed to rip some information out before slaughtering the betrayers. Nevertheless, it was tedious and stressful work, and the list of people who would need to be executed was growing.
With a sigh, Feather massaged his temples and closed his eyes.“Gelf!” He called out over the buzz of accountants and statisticians.
A thin Zabrakian man quickly came huffing over to Feather, drawn by the call of his name. He adjusted the spectacles slipping down the bridge of his nose before speaking in a soft, nervous voice. “Y-yes sir? Do you need something?”
“Yes, dear. I need to make sure you can handle running the floor for a little bit. I’m going to retire to my room for a moment. Can you cover for me?”
The anxious, little Zabrakian gave a relieved smile. “Of course, Jamadir. I-I’ve got you covered.”
“Thank you, Gelf. You are a life savior. Ah! And before I forget, could you have someone collect Oh-One and have them sent to my room? I believe the droid is with Korbar for a tune up. There may be some heads that need to roll here shortly.” Feather offered a small smile, before departing to his room.

***​

On the table before Feather, lay a book. It remained unopened, and untouched. Its secrets had already been read and digested, and Feather dare not touch it again. Its cover had been tarnished by the uncaring hand of time, though its contents were mostly intact. Peeling dark, purple fabric turned to dust when touched, and the gold trim etched into the spine seemed to flake away with the slightest disturbance. The tome carried an aura of agelessness, its dark secrets weighing down the air around it.
This was what Feather wished to share with Shesun, however, the Sith had yet to return his message.
Feather found himself deep in thought, contemplating the secrets of this tome, contemplating the wars that had certainly been fought for secrets like these. He did not notice the nebulous shadows creeping outside of his vision, did not notice that his mind was slipping into a hole, did not notice the absolute darkness. By then it was to late. There was a moment of panic as he felt his body seizing up, and then he departed deep into that place that only he knew.
And all he could think was: ‘Oh no. Not again.’

Spoiler

Greetings! Always good to see a fresh face around these parts.
Welcome to the Jungle of Dejagore, a hellish, blood soaked tropic just south of nothing. If you look around us now, you’ll see the gang of animals I call my comrades. Them and I; we make up the 52nd Infantry Company, home of the falsely brave and empty headed, moving out now to a city called Crek. It’s a real rebel hot spot – or so our informants say – and home to a general who’s name is too hard to pronounce.
What’s that you say? What are we doing all the way out here, laying on our stomachs in thick underbrush, sweating out of every known pore and being picked apart by pear sized insects? Well this is just standard routine for the 52nd Company. You see that man over there, the one with his head up in the tree and intestines strung along that bush? That’s Keto, or at least it was. Why did we call him Keto? ‘Cause we’re pretty sure his brain is the size of a Keto nut. Although, now that I I’ve got a better look at his brains, it’s become apparent that we were mistaken. Guess he was just dumb. Kind of have to be if you step on a land mine like that. But, that’s the cruelty of it all. Us soldiers live. He dies and not you, and you feel guilty, because you’re glad he died, and not you. Us soldiers, we live and wonder why...

Keto, he’s why were down here in the dirt. Standard routine really. Step on an IED, blow yourself up and take someone else down to the ground with you with shrapnel. Then we all hit the deck and ol’ Feather has to crawl on over to the poor bastard unlucky enough to get stung. But it’s dark this time. I hear the pained moans of Cote, but I can’t see him, the canopy is too thick here, it doesn’t allow for much starlight. Nonetheless, I suppose that won’t be a problem for long, blaster fire is sure to light up the jungle any moment now... Ah. And there it is. Oh! Looks like we’ve found Cote. That’s a gruesome looking wound, wouldn’t you say? Yeah, truly an inconvenience...

Why would anyone subject themselves to this hell, you ask? Well that’s a truly interesting question, stranger. “Because we were ordered to” is the first thing that comes to mind, but I’m guessing that isn’t exactly the answer you were looking for.
Well, I can’t speak for the group as a whole, but I suppose we all have our own reasons. Here, take for instance that dark, grizzled looking man over there, screaming orders hopelessly into the night, firing blaster bolts into nothingness. That there is Captain, he’s our Jamadir (captain). He joined the company by choice just a few years ago, right at the start of the Taglios rebellion. He joined to impress his hometown sweetheart, and also because I think he enjoys killing. Though, there’s a chance the latter is just a recent hobby he picked up...
Now take that young lad over there, the scrawny one with the communicator in his hands, calling for backup from the next troop behind us. He’s Newt, the newest member of the company, a young man from Glea-Xea, far East from here. He joined because of some religious rite, if I’m not mistaken. I think his parents expect him to be baptized in the holy flames of this war, but I’d be willing to bet you anything it isn’t the conflict that’ll be doing the baptizing. No. Newt’s blood will be the thing christening this conflict, if not now, then later. All men are born condemned, so the wise say. All suckle the breast of Death. All bow before that Shadow Monarch. That Lord in Shadow lifts a finger. A feather flutters to the earth. There is no reason in His song. The good go young. The wicked prosper. He is king of the Chaos Lands. His breath stills all souls. Newt is not exempt.
That’s a bit sick isn’t it? The Kid’s barely seventeen. He’s new though, so who’s to say. Heh. Yeah, he’s definitely new. He doesn’t know that the troop behind us isn’t coming. No way are they putting their necks out for us. They’ll probably just go around the firefight, and hope to meet us at the rendezvous with all the other companies. Welcome to wartime, I suppose. It really is a drag.
Anyway, that should give you an idea of the type of people I’m working with. Ah, and look at that, I’m almost finished patching up Cote. Good, I would hate to loose this brute. Cote’s the type of guy to join a war because he didn’t have much else going on. I sure am glad he decided to join our side. Stand up guy that Cote.
Hmm, what’s that? Why am I here?
Well, that’s a bit of a story, but I guess we’ve got a second before the fight dies down. Still, I’ll try to keep it short.
This planet here, the one that we now stand upon, is considerably neutral, just a small little dust mote riding the edge of the Outer Rim and Wild Space. However, a few years ago the Republic caught wind of some rumors spreading around that the political officials and representatives of our planet were receiving bribes from the Empire. Trying to quell this potential threat, a small bit of funding and arms were given to a rebel group.
Pretty soon, this rebel group had more money than most any organization in the hell pit we now stand upon, and so everybody who could pick up a gun decided to join, and very quickly this rebellion became a self-sustaining machine, with promises of more money should the political structure of my planet fall. It’s pretty ingenious if you think about it.
So yeah, a rebellion formed, with more money and blasters than our planets whole military. But a few years ago I didn’t really care about all that. Me? I was just the son of a farmer, spending my days digging in the dirt. That was, until a rebel company came on through, burned my whole village down and shot up just about everybody save a few of us unlucky individuals. I joined the Taglios Army shortly after that.
So that’s my reason. I guess you could call it revenge; I certainly did at the time, but now, I find the hatred has vanished. I used to think the rebels were evil, real villains, you know? But now I know better. There are no self-proclaimed villains, only regiments of self-proclaimed saints. Victorious historians rule where good or evil lies. We of the 52nd company abjure labels. We fight for money and an indefinable pride. The politics, the ethics, the moralities, are irrelevant. Any man who fights for his morals instead of his paycheck deserves to die for his cause.
Oh! Looks like we’ve got these guys on the run. Quick, we need to catch them; they’re a scouting party. We can’t have them getting back to camp. Help me stand Cote up, we’ve got to move out. Oh wait, you can’t can you? You’re not here. Who are you again?

***​

Cote’s blood had stained my hands like an oil slick. They were darker than usual, almost impossible to see in the night now.
Cote was breathing raggedly, but he would survive. To bad he was so dammed heavy, I was beginning to loose the company.
“Thanks again, Doc. You’re a life saver.” Cote’s voice was raspy. He tried to ease some of his weight off of me.
“Don’t mention it. I’m not ready to let my shrapnel shield die just yet.” I replied. Cote managed a small laugh.
Good. Laughter was good; it eased the pain of war. We all liked to laugh. We laughed every chance we got. Some crazy rebel would shoot at your company and you’d all hit the deck, firing randomly, rolling around in the dirt and letting out every curse you could muster. When it was all over you’d stand up and dust it all off with a laugh, like one of the guys told a good joke. Someone would say, “Well damn, Tealeaf, you looked like you were damn near pissing yourself”, and everyone including Tealeaf would laugh again, because we all know we were all close to shitting ourselves.
Yep. Laughter eased the pain of war all right. It didn’t, however, ease the weight of the two-hundred pound brute off my shoulder.
“Hey, Cote, think you can manage to walk on your own for a bit?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Cote took a few uneasy steps, before finding his balance and keeping pace.
“Thanks, dear.”
We continued onward, and before long we were upon the scouting party, giving them an old-fashioned company lashing. Just another night in hell, I suppose.

Once dawn reared it’s ugly head, we set up camp. We were at the edge of the Dejagore Jungle now, and a few discrete signals let us known that the rest of the companies were in place. It wouldn’t be until the dawn of the next day that we would strike, so in the meantime, I got busy doing as medics do, neglecting their patients to catch a view of the nameless city my company would be seizing next.

It was an ugly sight. This clearing in the Jungle had once been a beautiful region of rolling hills – so we’ve been told – home to a capitol city of Taglios. Now, the hills had been flattened, all the dirt excavated and repositioned into the center of the barren plane. Atop the mighty center hill currently rest the fattened city we sought to lay claim to, with walls higher than any wall should reasonably be. It was intimidating.
We had set up camp on the edge of this bowl, next to a river that ran from the Dejagor Lake and then down through the city. Tonight a strike team would sneak inside and assassinate the general, and then by dawn we would cease the city, fighting off the headless serpent that was the rebel army.

I forced my gaze away from the clearing, and turned back towards our camp, walking over to the derelict medical tent. I opened the flap, but then found I was falling. Falling upward, past a plane of glittering stone, past whispers of war, past the beam of fire that would render this place in time glass. Sand ran up stream...

When Feather came to, he found himself in an unexpected bed of something soft, far softer than a jungle floor. The smell of incense had replaced that of blood and sweat, and now soft light replaced what was once harsh. Slowly senses sharpened and came into focus, and slowly Feather was able to make out the face of the Chief Medical Officer of the Schar, Agivel, peering over him.
He was an older gentleman, with a thick salt and pepper beard, and wrinkled brown skin. His eyes were sunken and dark, but held a light of kindness to them. They were met by Feather’s soulless golden hues, which starred perplexed.
“How long was I out.” Feather asked from his prone state.
Agivel replied with a croak. “Just a few minutes. Luckily I was actually coming to your room to talk to you about something. I arrived in just in time to see you hit the floor with seizure. How was it? Same place as last time? Was the faceless person there again?” Agivel retrieved a tablet and prepared for notes.
“It was terrible, yet again, an unfortunate experience to relive. But this was a different moment. It was before the seizure of the city, during our trek through the Dejagore Jungle.” Feather gave pause as the pondered.
“And the faceless person? Were they present again?” The old man gave Feather a curious look.
“Yes. Once again, it was like I was giving a tour, like there was someone who accidentally fell into the nether of my mind, and it was my job to help them sort the mess of my memories out, my job to show them around so they could get familiar with me. It was... a perverted experience. Invasive to say the least.”
“And still no features to speak of?”
“None whatsoever.”
The medical officer scratched his beard as he thought. “My best diagnosis is still that this is some combination of PTSD and epilepsy. Perhaps the faceless person is some deeper subconscious representation of yourself? Hmph. These fits you have are very curious indeed.”
Feather pursed his lips. “Perhaps. I have considered this myself, even. Yet still, there is something that does not feel right about all of this. It feels like there is an outside force pushing in on me.”
“Well I can tell you that I’ve never had a patient who said epilepsy felt right, but I get where you’re coming from. I’ll look over your charts and get back to you soon enough. Oh-One should be here soon enough.”
Feather nodded, and dismissed the good doctor. With a sigh, he let himself sink back into his bed of pillows in wait of Oh-One.
Longhead

Healer Senjak Nonagon Nar'ah ​

Once led into the Sith’s judicial chamber, Senjak could not help but find their eyes wandering over to the slave joining the motley parade. It hadn’t been until now that the Jedi came to realize this person had been amongst them for some time, simply in the peripheral of tonight’s events.
They were a curios one, Senjak decided. There was no doubt that they possessed a certain female guile, it was clearly written in the eyes, but there was something else about them that held a distinct note of familiarity too. Nonetheless, the Healer found themself having a hard time putting their finger on the pulse. Perhaps it was just the ethereal beauty of the creature. It had certainly not gone unnoticed by Senjak, and even though the Jedi rarely found them remarking on such menial details, something about this woman stood out to the Jedi.
The Healer shook their head. This was of no importance now. What was important, were the Sith apprentices, forcing the twins down on their knees, and their Father speaking their judgment before them. It seemed it had come time to remove the mantle.
For the longest time, Senjak had found their armor to be like a second layer of skin. It helped to detach them from the rest of the world, while still giving them the ability to peer in through eyes unclouded. Others would judge the Jedi the same, conjuring up any number of faces to give Senjak whilst never knowing the true profile beneath. Senjak was whatever others thought, not because of their outward appearance, but because of their character and moral. Now they had to remove that defense, in front of people who could use such things against the Jedi. Nonetheless, failure was not an option, and so it had to be done. Retrieving Kaiser was more important, and if gaining his trust by going through hell with him was what it took, so be it.
Then a thought surfaced. Was it really Kaiser that Senjak was staying for? Was it really the fear of failure that had brought the Jedi to this position, at the mercy of their own Father? Or was their some greater draw going unnoticed by the Jedi, a secret lusting for knowledge they refused to acknowledge? Could it be that Senjak had simply yearned to confront their Father? The Jedi quickly cleared their mind, and shook away the thoughts. They were nonsense.
Being allowed to stand, Senjak first drew back their hood, revealing the helm in its entirety. A gauntleted hand easily unfastened several buckles, and in a pile, the Jedi’s robes fell around them. Now, a bare set of armor stood gleaming in the judicial chambers.
Shaking hands clutched the base of the helm, and a click echoed through out the chamber. Slowly, it was removed.
Short, brown hair fell around Senjak’s heart shaped face, a face that was noticeably similar to Kaiser’s, save for a few key differences. Firstly, the actual bone structure was a fair bit more slender, elegant even. Senjak also seemed to have a permanent passive expression on their face, though now their pillowy lips dipped down ever so slightly at the edges into a frown, which extenuated her dark, dispassionate eyes. Those dispassionate eyes, which stared directly at Shesun, and no where else. Senjak did not avert her gaze as she continued to remove her armor.

Once finally rid of her armor, – which now layed about the Jedi in disarray – Senjak stood in a simple leather jumpsuit, which clung at the hips and chest, hinting at the feminine curves that lay beneath.
Bowing respectfully, the Jedi returned to her position, kneeling on the floor next to her brother. In a monotone, though now distinctly feminine, voice Senjak replied to Shesun.
“You are clear, father.”
Longhead shadowz1995 Fluffy-Kat

Spoiler

 

[Longhead]

“You’re set Oh-One. Let me know if you need anything else - oh, and don’t forget to keep dust out of your, uh, voice box or whatever. You sound like an older HK model.”

“Gratitude/Statement: Thank you. I appreciate what you have done for me. I will come back if I need anything else. I will keep my communication module sanitary.”

HK-01-51P, or, Oh-One for short received a desperately needed tune up. If his master had been any other head of a criminal organization, he might’ve been given back to Czerka Corporation immediately. He was a prototype, and was only sent out as a test run. The more things that you can spot that are faulty in a prototype from Czerka the more credits you would receive once you returned the test run. But his master kept him anyways. Not because Oh-One meant a lot to him or anything, but, a free assassin droid is something you’d keep, and especially if it’s a high quality one, like an HK droid. You’d only lose something like that to a few blaster bolts or a high stakes game of gambling.

As he was getting up to leave, A Zabrak approached him. “The boss needs you. Last I heard he wanted you in his room. I think you should hurry though. I saw Doctor Agivel walk in there and he hasn’t come out in awhile now.” Without response, Oh-One took a long step past him, brushing his shoulder as he went by, before taking an explosive next step into a sprint. Though Oh-One came with no pre-existing medical knowledge programmed into him, and the fact that the Doctor was in Feather’s room, it still didn’t stop him from running to check on his master. It was only his programming. He was not slowed down by anything, as most in his path immediately took a step to the side out of Oh-One’s direct path, because in his one year of service, it was no secret that he wasn’t opposed to trampling someone like a wild, angry Nerf.

Upon approaching Feather’s quarters, Oh-One already knew that his door was likely to be locked. Not just anyone could just walk into his room. Instead of entering the code to unlock the door, he merely grabbed the seam of the door, and with the whir and clicking of hydraulics as well as a deafening, cringe-worthy screech of metal grinding against metal, he forced the door open just enough for him to slide through the door. After opening the door, with no hiatus he immediately spat out a question.

“Inquiry/Self-Reassurance/Explanation: Is the master doing okay? I was approached by a Zabrak who told me that Doctor Agivel had not left your room for a while. I assumed that you may have had a seizure again.” He got down onto one knee next to Feather, in eager anticipation for a response.

Dromund Kaas, Kaas City, Imperial Citadel.
When his father spoke, he fully expected everything, minus his name being butchered. He probably got it wrong because he was never told, but the Force was a strange thing. Nar’ah could probably see into Kaiser’s head, and if he could, he could probably see that he winced upon his name being incorrectly pronounced, and if he couldn’t, the twist of Kaiser’s face would probably give away at least the connotation that something was wrong. It certainly wasn’t going to be him that corrected him though, especially not now.

Now, when Kaiser had originally sad to lose the mask, Senjak did not indulge him, and it didn’t seem like they would anytime soon. He did not think to avert his vision from Nar’ah to Senjak until she knelt next to him. He glanced to his left, and then realized that something wasn’t right. He turned his head more slowly. Instead of taking the time to make the better decision, which was responding to the Darth ahead of them, he instead diverted his thoughts into saying the first thing that came to mind that wasn’t a question.

“You look like me, but like, as a girl..Nice.”

But he quickly fixed himself when his sister responded for him. He repeated her not even half a second after she said it, nodding, “You are clear, father.” He said quietly, trailing off on that last word. Not even the fact that he was going to be taught by the man who could’ve killed him only moments ago surprised him. The two men with lightsabers behind them were invisible to him. He stared at her for what seemed like hours, but was only a few seconds before looking at the ground. He then whispered to himself soon after.

“..I’ve got a sister..”

“Cool.”

Spoiler

shadowz1995 Croaker

 

[shadowz1995]

The Sith Lord watched the siblings carefully as they both began to learn things at a quick pace about one another and about themselves. Senjak in particular was pulling his attention. The internal struggle she was facing and desperately trying to silence was one that Shesun knew all too well.

There was no denying these two were his offspring. They both contained obvious traits.... "Your heart wavers, my child." Darth Nar'ah began, his chilling gaze focused on the fairer of the two twins, "You are much like myself in many ways..... I am sure you were often called cold, uncaring, and creepy many times. Major lack of emotion tends to unnerve the weak willed. Yet, your mother still persists within you. In that regard, she was the opposite. It seems you inherited that from her... along with her looks."

Shesun then switched gears to Kaiser, his expression taking a more stone-like turn. "You on the other hand are practically her clone. Action first, think later. It seems the only thing you inherited was my affinity with the dark side of the force."

"How is she? I have not heard from her in some time."

(Told u itd be short) Longhead Croaker Fluffy-Kat

 

[SpaceDandy]

PAST

Atlas turned around to face his opponents and to his surprise the men in suits didn’t have time to recover before a bounty hunter in Mandalorian armor and an orange cloak was upon them. He was choking the larger of the two assailants with his grappling line and shooting a dart into the other man. Atlas quickly pulled out his blaster at this time with his right hand and noticed a bouncer approaching the Mandalorian from behind.


The Mandalorian in the orange cloak snapped the neck of the man he had been choking and approached Atlas saying "You look like you could use some help. You should know what Mandalorians are great at." while in the same fluid motion tossing a knife into the bouncer closest to Atlas.


Atlas smiled and replied “Good help isn’t cheap, looking to make a cool 10,000 credits?” while at the same time bringing his blaster up firing a stun shot past the Mandalorian hitting the bouncer behind him as screams from the dancers echoed and the club erupted into chaos.


Athena interrupted the moment in his mind “There is a high chance he will want to capture you and or kill you for what you have. I also noted he scanned you and may be interested in me.” Atlas replied with some confidence “Normally with his type if you grease the wheels with credits they will postpone killing you or at lest draw it out to milk you out of more credits.” At that same moment he sensed someone running at him from behind. He quickly shifted his weight to the right and quickly slide over leaving his left foot out tripping the bouncer who began falling forward towards the Mandorilian with his stun baton waving around frantacily attempting to gain his balance back.

QizPizza

 

[QizPizza]

“Good help isn’t cheap, looking to make a cool 10,000 credits?”

"We'll worry about the payment once we get you out of this mess." Ori sidestepped the stumbling bouncer and let him fall onto the ground. The Mandalorian ended the man's life with a stomp to his neck. Looking back at the booth the "merchant" was at earlier, he found the blue-haired woman getting up from her seat and making a dash towards the back door. She was obviously guilty. The panicked look on her face when Ori got involved told him a snippet of the story. She backstabbed him, but now that her initial plan was botched, she's running. "This should be fun."

"That blue haired chick running for the door your target?...That was a rhetorical question. Connect to channel 7347 and keep up." Ori set off a smoke bomb in the club, filling the entire room with a bright orange haze. It blinded the remaining bouncers as Ori shoved his way to the back door.

When he exited into the alleyway, he glanced to his left and right. The right side led deeper into the tangle of alleys, a good place for escaping, but not too many options for hiding, unless one knew the city well. The left side led out into the main streets. The streets were far more open, but the abundance of people walking around meant that that woman's pursuers would have to risk collateral damage. Given that the woman was hiding in a club filled with people and Ori had proved that he was not too willing to risk civilian lives, the woman would have likely went for the streets. Still, the woman didn't seem like too much of a fool, and she could've easily went through the streets and into another alleyway.

Ori grinned, knowing that she was going to be caught either way, because she could not account for an aerial opponent. The Mandalorian fired up his jetpack as he ran towards the wall in front of him, using the jetpack to assist his climb. He got to the roof with ease and obtained a clear view of the streets and alleyways. "Hey, 'merchant', got a name? I'd hate keep calling you 'merchant'. You can call me Dar'yaim."

"They call me Atlas."

"Pleasure to meet you, Atlas. I see that our blue haired friend is making a break towards Dock 7. What a coincidence, I have some friends over there. Meet us by the spacedocks."

Ori followed woman from the roof tops, using his jetpack to jump from roof top to roof top. Under normal circumstances, he would've attempted to shoot her, but he was no expert marksman and there were far too many civilians in the way. Besides, he wanted to hear what this woman had to offer. It's not like either individual was particularly in the right. For all he knew, Atlas could've been a slaver or hardened criminal. This situation would isolate the woman so that Ori could question her without any interruptions. The Mandalorian called up his ship's comms, "Syb, Ryn, Eeji? You guys there?"

A flurry of meaningless sounds came pouring through the comms. It was his Jawa mechanic, Eeji. "Eeji, you know that I can't understand you if you're eating." The Jawa let out several annoyed grunts in protest. "Whatever, just get ready to intercept one of two targets. One is going to be a human male with red hair dressed as a merchant. He goes by Atlas, get ready to restrain him at my orders. The other is going to be a ship I will identify if I need it destroyed, got it?" The Jawa let out several more grunts, before letting out a hacking cough and shutting off the comms. The fool had choked on his food.

Ori resumed his chase, following the woman all the way to Dock 10, which was quite a distance away from where his ship was parked, but still in the same direction. Along the way, he ran out of roof to run on, forcing Ori to land on the ground and continue his chase among the crowds. He made sure to keep a target lock on the woman, lest he lose her in the crowds. As soon as Ori landed on the ground, the people on street began to panic, alerting his target of his presence. The woman suddenly ran into an alleyway, away from the parting crowds. Ori followed her, with the locals parting to accommodate his path.

In the new alleyway, the woman took a glance backwards to see her pursuer still hot on heels. In response, she overturned a stack of crates and turned into another corner. The two continued running through the alleyways, with the woman throwing the occasionally piece of debris in front of Ori's path. Ori was getting tired. Sure, he was far more athletic than the woman, but he was also wearing over seventy pounds of armor and and additional twenty pounds of gear. She was gradually able to escape his sight, but he could predict where she would go.

Ori eventually caught up to the blue haired woman waiting for her escape craft's bay doors to open in Dock 10. Ori purposely clanked towards the ship, causing the woman to reach for a concealed holdout pistol. As soon as she took it out, Ori fired a blaster bolt from his pistol right past her head, hitting the ship in front of her. "Tsk tsk tsk. Wouldn't do that if I were you. I'd hate for you to get hurt before we discussed a deal, so put that pistol down, ma'am."

The woman slowly set the pistol onto the ground and turned to face the Mandalorian, breathing heavily. "There, what do you want with me? Humilation? I think it's already gross overkill for a Mandalorian such as yourself to be the one to kill me."

"Cut the flattery. Who said I was going to kill you? The whole act back at the club was to make sure I got his trust. He seems to be a dangerous man, so if you give me a good reason and some credits, I'll be more than happy to bring him to you and ensure he doesn't escape in the future." Ori holstered his pistol and held up his hands to show that he meant no harm. He still kept a target lock on her, since scans revealed that she had more than just one concealed blaster. "And I would like to know your name if we're going to do business. Call me 'Dar'yaim'."

"The name's Hera, honey," Hera shifted her stance leaning over a little to show off the goods to try and entice the Mandalorian. She put her left hand on her hip and brought her right hand to her chin holding the inquisitive pose with her right index finger and thumb stroking her chin. "I see you're quite the mercenary." She replied in a sultry voice. "25,000 credits... If you him to this location alive." She tossed him a data tablet with a marked location. "If he offers you more, I'll double it...."

Ori picked the data tablet and marked the location just in case. He paid little mind to Hera's attempts at enticement, but decided to play along. "Credits are great, but I asked for a good reason. Why should I turn him in? I'm sure your pretty little head can give me a good reason."

Hera let an sly smile play across her face. "He is a terrorist that needs to be brought in alive for questioning. He was also responsible for that terrorist attack on Coruscant." She replied with a look of sincerity on her face. She looked at him with a coy smile as she finished, "The Republic would be in your debt."

The woman's facial features were giving her away. Normally, one would easily be distracted by her appearances and neglect to notice the inconsistency in her expressions, but Ori was not fazed. A lifetime of blood and conflict had left desiring little in the area of romance. Still Ori pretended to eye the woman with slight movements of his helmet. He threw in some suggestive comments of his own to demonstrate his interest in the deal. "I think more than just the Republic would be in my debt, if you catch my meaning."

Hera replied with a suggestive smile. "Very well, I'm sure we can arrange something once you bring the man to me." She continued to walk onto the ship, but Ori stopped her.

"Still wouldn't do that. I have a lock on your ship, and I can't turn it off until I get back to mine. I suggest you find somewhere safe while I bring you your friend." Ori took note of the ship's identification number and design before walking out of Dock 10. He then began to make his way towards the coordinates, taking the most exposed route, one Hera would not risk taking. He hailed his ship once again. "Eeji, you there?"

Another flurry of sounds came out of the comms. "Great, you haven't choked to death. I'm sending the identification number and specifications of a ship to watch out for. If it tries to leave Dantooine, shoot it down. Also, have Syb and Ryn take Atlas to the coordinates I'm sending you. Their orders are the same as before, but tell that I'm going to have a talk with him."

Ori cut off the comms and called Atlas on channel 7347. "I almost cornered Hera at the docks, but her goons helped her give me the slip. I have an idea of where she's going, my friends Syb and Ryn should have the coordinates... And quick question, why is this chick out for you and why do you want to kill her?"

Orimos "Dar'yaim" Mir​

Health: 100%

Status: In Pursuit/Inquisitive
Location: Dantooine - Garang - Dock 10
Interacting With: SpaceDandy
​

 

[SpaceDandy]

The Mandalorian replied "We'll worry about the payment once we get you out of this mess." Atlas shrugged as and his right eyebrow shot up as the Mandalorian let the bouncer fall to the floor and he stomped his neck breaking it with a muffled crack due to all the screaming and music blaring. "That blue haired chick running for the door your target?...That was a rhetorical question. Connect to channel 7347 and keep up." stated the Mandalorian.


“Watch out the Mandalorian has a smoke bomb.” warned Athena as Atlas closed his eyes and covered his ears. He felt a strong air pressure as he heard the muffled boom and felt the light even with his eyelids closed. When he opened his eyes the Mandalorian was pushing through the crowd to the back door in hot pursuit of Hera. Atlas quickly maneuvered through the crowd with the skill of a dancer catching up to the mercenary.


As Atlas bounded out the back door he caught the glimpse of the Mandalorians jump jets as he vaulted up to the rooftop. Atlas swing his arm up and shot a tracker on the back of the jetpack of the merc that was the size of a small pebble. It gave Atlas the ability to track him until the merc found it. Once the merc made it to the roof he got a call via Athena’s implant on channel 7347. "Hey, 'merchant', got a name? I'd hate keep calling you 'merchant'. You can call me Dar'yaim."


Atlas replied in a somber tone "They call me Atlas." There was almost no feedback from the Mandalorians com system which was a testament to Mandalorian engineering. "Pleasure to meet you, Atlas. I see that our blue haired friend is making a break towards Dock 7. What a coincidence, I have some friends over there. Meet us by the spacedocks."


Atlas began a jog to the spaceport. “You do realise that this is a trap. They might just take you hostage or kill you. They should not be trusted. It could also be an elaborate ruse from Hera to get you right where she wants you. ” said Athena with her inflection that was an approximation on concern. It always came across to Atlas as a tone saying are you being a dumbass? Atlas smirked and replied, “ I don’t trust the man as far as I can throw him. Also Hera wouldn’t waste assets so frivolously by having the Mandalorian kill her men….” Atlas alway considered himself a good judge of character however this Mandalorian was vexing.


He didn’t jump at the money right of the bat, therefore its safe to say he has a code of honor. Since he is a Merc a code of honor can make his job complicated. He also asked way to many questions for a Merc. Drawing a conclusion that he has a side, it could be his crew “family,” could be the Republic an unlikely conclusion but possible, or could be the Empire…. No matter where his loyalties may fall Atlas needed to determine who flipped Hera. He couldn’t play his full hand with this Mandalorian as he was too much of a wild card, but he’ll have to pepper some truth in his story to get the man to believe him.


Atlas stopped a moment in the crowded marketplace looking around and slowing to a fast walk to avoid attracting attention. He overheard murmuring about a person in Mandalorian armor jumping over buildings chasing someone. For a large man he had a talent for blending into the crowd. He was almost to the spaceport Athena piped in a transmission from chanel 7347. "I almost cornered Hera at the docks, but her goons helped her give me the slip. I have an idea of where she's going, my friends Syb and Ryn should have the coordinates... And quick question, why is this chick out for you and why do you want to kill her?" Dar'yaim stated.


Atlas was about to reply with a lie but changed his mind. “I don’t want her dead...at least not yet, I just need some information from her…. We had a dispute over what direction as an organization we were going. I just need to determine what changed her mind…” replied Atlas with a pensive tone. Atlas gave him the truth… at least some of it without the key details. “How about you how many people are in your mercenary company? What do your two friends look like? Also you ask alot of questions for man in this line of work….” said Atlas in an amused tone.


"I've got seven in my group. You'll be meeting with two blue Twi'lek sisters. They go by Sybilla and Rynilla. Can't miss them." The Mandalorian let out a huff, as if he was running. "I like to stay informed of the situation. Helps me plan."

Atlas smiled at the thought of two Twi’lek sisters. I hope there pretty he thought. “Fair enough.” replied Atlas had a feeling the Mandalorian was playing with a stacked deck. Atlas didn’t want to get taken for a fool but he knew he was running out of options to catch Hera. “This is most certainly a trap..” Athena stated matter of factly. “Knowing is half the battle…” replied Atlas resolutely. He checked his gear as he continued onwards. He saw the two blue Twi’leks ahead as he walked with a swager he didn’t feel. He had his blaster set to stun and knock out darts ready. He really wanted to trust these people but...you can only trust in yourself...and your AI.

The taller of the two Twi'leks noticed him first. She had a sniper rifle slung on her back and a pistol drawn. She was dressed in a revealing black crop top, form-fitting pants and heeled boots. Her sister wore an open leather jacket, a pair of black combat boots, and had a small backpack slung over her shoulders. She looked at Atlas for a few moments before holstering her pistol and walking up to him. She walked up to Atlas with a little sway in her hips. The blue Twi'lek gave him a bat of her eyes and smiled. "Name's Sybilla. This is my sister, Ryn. Atlas right? 'Dar'yaim' told us to bring you to these coordinates." She handed him a datapad with a map. "Rev checked it out and figured out that there's some kind of safehouse there. He and 'Dar'yaim' are waiting for us over there."

Atlas smiled at both of the Twi’lek woman. “Nice to meet you Sybilla and Ryn.” he said with sincerity. He gave Sybilla a lopsided grin and as he analyzed the pair. “ I always enjoyed a woman that can reach out and touch you from afar.” he said pointing to the sniper rifle. “Guess we need to get going as soon as possible to catch up with Dar’yaim. Seems like a good bloke been working with him for a while?” he asked with sincere interest.

"We've been working for him about a year or so. To be honest, he's picked up the entire crew a year or two ago and no one's known him any longer. But it's no big deal, he saved our asses plenty of times." The Twi'lek shrugged a little before she began to walk past him. "Come on, we should get going. We'll take the roofs, much faster than trying to navigate through alleys and shoving past the locals." As soon as she finished, the Sybilla ran off and began to scale a building to find the ideal path. Her sister followed close behind her.

Atlas shrugged and followed Sybilla and Ryn's trail keeping up with the pair. They navigated roof tops with ease while Atlas struggled to keep up but was just able to manage. He was keeping tabs on Dar’yaim through the tracker he had placed on him. He was indeed heading to the same place. Atlas had to admit he enjoyed watching the sisters acrobatics in front of him. He always enjoyed the feminine form. It was like watching art in motion.

QizPizza

 

[QizPizza]

Ori reached the safehouse in less than half an hour. The building itself was rather bland. The same tan walls as all the other buildings in Garang with several tinted windows. The only indication that the building was anything special was that Reverend was hanging around the entrance. That man would only ever be at two places: a place with booze, and the mission objectives. That itself was a law of nature. Half the reason why Rev stayed with Ori was because he constant kept the Kandosii stocked with quality booze.

"Ori! I have the place scouted out already. There was exactly one person who went into the building since I 'set up.' I can tell you that there is a bunker in that safehouse and that the walls are reinforced with with durasteel." Rev took a deep drink from a bottle of whisky no doubt bought with the funds from their job. He was ever in character as the team's scout. No one would ever give a drunkard a second glance, and that made him perfect for the role of scouting out locations. I took a lot of alcohol to make the man drunk and when he wasn't completely drunk, he was quite observent.

"Reverend, we're on a job. Put the booze away, and call me by my alias." Ori took his rifle from his back and took a datapad Reverend set down next to him. On the pad were the rough blueprints of the safehouse with the possible locations of security systems. If the current plan continues without any issues, then there would be no need to deal with the security systems. If they did, Ori had enough ECD grenades to take out the entire block, but knowing his crew, they already set a contingency. "Where are Sol'yc and Massk?"

"Alright, 'Dar'yaim'. We got more weapons than the client could carry, so Massk is taking the remaining grenades and charges back to the ship. Good deal, if you ask me. We got paid the 50,000 credits we were promised and we get some explosives to boot. You must be happy." Rev pointed towards a tall, nearby building. "Sol'yc set up a sniper's nest on that building and before that, he got the ECDs set up."

"Good. Get yourself ready and set your blasters to stun."

"Aye, aye, Cap." Reverend sarcastically saluted Ori and walked off, drinking his whisky. One of these days, that man will drink himself to death. Ori took a look around the area. Minimal civilians and enough cover if Hera or Atlas decided to call for reinforcements and turn the city into a battleground. Now all that remained was to wait for Syb and Ryn to come with Atlas and make the judgement call.

Sybilla and Ryn led Atlas through the rooftops all the way to Hera's safe house. When they reached edge of a roof, Syb saw Ori waiting for them alone. "Alright, here we go. I'll stay up here and cover you with my rifle." Syb lays down on the the roof and takes out her rifle. She trains it on the doorway of the safehouse. Using a secure channel, Syb contacts Ori, "'Dar'yaim', Atlas is at the rendezvous. Any instructions?"

"Keep your sights on him and get ready to take him down if needed."

"Why can't I be the one to shot that blue haired slut?"

"Because Sol'yc called it first. Jealous much?"

"No...I just don't like women who act...like..." Syb stopped midway, realizing that she often acted in a similar manner as Hera. "Crap..."

"I think you two have more in common than just the color blue." Ori teased Sybilla, knowing her tendency to flirt with the male crew members. The Twi'lek rolled her eyes and shut off her comms in annoyance.

"Come on, let's go. Don't want to keep 'Dar'yaim' waiting." Ryn waved Atlas over and began to climb down the building they were on, leaving her sister lying on the roof. She strolled up to Ori with her blaster pistol drawn and set to stun. She stood by "Hey, miss me?"

"Maybe. Good job, you got here without getting Atlas killed." Ori turned towards Atlas. "Alright, Atlas. Hera's in there. I have a feeling that she might come out for you."

Ori called Hera on the comms, making sure to use a sultry tone to make himself seem desperate. "Hey, sexy, I got your 'friend' here with me. He's unharmed at the moment. You want to come out to collect him so I can collect my 'rewards'."

Orimos "Dar'yaim" Mir​

Health: 100%

Status: Waiting
Location: Dantooine - Garang - Safehouse
Interacting With: SpaceDandy
​

 

[SpaceDandy]

Ryn waved Atlas over and began to climb down the building they were on, leaving her sister lying on the roof. She strolled up to Dar'yaim and stated"Hey, miss me?"


"Maybe. Good job, you got here without getting Atlas killed." Dar'yaim turned towards Atlas. "Alright, Atlas. Hera's in there. I have a feeling that she might come out for you." Atlas smirked ask Dar’yaim got silent for a moment. Atlas dropped a micro smoke bomb in one hand and a micro stun grenade with added Pepper aerosol in the other. “Come now Dar’yaim lets drop the act. I never told you her name. Let her know I said hello and she can come and get me.”

Atlas knew that she wanted him alive or Dar’yaim would have already tried to kill him. He had taken into account the flash from the grenade might give him an extra second with the Mandalorian but that suit was designed to resist such things. He would hate to grapple with Ryn but it might be unavoidable. “Personally I dont give a damn about you playing both sides at the moment. I just need to get to Hera. You can stay out of the way or help at this point you’ll get your money either way.” He felt the Twi’lek step too close with the gun in his back. “I guess I should thank you really for giving me a wonderful view on the way here.” Atlas said with deep amusement in his voice.

 

[QizPizza]

“Come now, Dar’yaim, let's drop the act. I never told you her name. Let her know I said hello and she can come and get me.”

"You're a smart man. Atlas. You should know that your 'friend' was watching us. She's already coming." Ori did a quick scan on Atlas, given that he was starting to be slightly less friendly. The scan revealed that he was holding a smoke bomb laced with some kind of additive and a stun grenade. Ori would be unaffected in his suit, but Ryn was a concern. The Twi'lek was not properly protected from either of the bombs, and the smoke bomb was giving Ori additional concern.

“Personally I dont give a damn about you playing both sides at the moment. I just need to get to Hera. You can stay out of the way or help at this point you’ll get your money either way. I guess I should thank you really for giving me a wonderful view on the way here.”

Ryn replied with small smirk on her face, indicating overconfidence. "Least we could do for you, babe."

The Mandalorian took a glance at Reverend, who was hanging around a street corner repelling civilians with his drunken act. All the while, he was setting up explosives and tripwires, just in case. He was doing his job well, and with everything else in place, all Ori needed to do was make sure Ryn was safe. He openly order the younger of the two sister, "Ryn, go cover the streets over there. We don't want any unexpected surprises." Privately, he contacted Syb, "Switch target to the door, I can deal with Atlas if needed. Hera is taking too long, I think she's planning something."

"Alright, Atlas, you got me. Just play along for a little. I struck a deal with Hera as I chased her. She promised me 25,000 credits for bringing you here alive, but she never said anything about incapacitated. She said she wanted to talk, and so did you, so how about we arrange a little meeting? On my terms of course. There's going to be a simple condition: If she pays me for setting up the 'meeting,' then I'll work for her. If she stabs me in the back, I'll take that knife and drive it into her skull. Fair? To be honest, I'm practically expecting that woman to betray me, so rest easy."

Ori turned away from Atlas in a small act of good faith. He waited for a few more moments before the door opened. At first the room inside was completely empty, but then, ten Ori's visor tagged ten soldiers in Imperial armor coming out, all armed with blaster rifles and pistols. No doubt Hera was too careful to meet Ori in person. But the fact that she had Imperial Troopers under her employ did not sit well with Ori. "You know, on second thought, I might stick a knife through her skull regardless, but play along and we'll both get out of here alive."

Orimos "Dar'yaim" Mir​

Health: 100%

Status: Cautious
Location: Dantooine - Garang - Safehouse
Interacting With: SpaceDandy
​

 

[SpaceDandy]

Ryn replied with small smirk on her face, indicating overconfidence. "Least we could do for you, babe." Dar’yaim interrupted "Ryn, go cover the streets over there. We don't want any unexpected surprises." Atlas gave her a wink before she walked away.


"Alright, Atlas, you got me. Just play along for a little. I struck a deal with Hera as I chased her. She promised me 25,000 credits for bringing you here alive, but she never said anything about incapacitated. She said she wanted to talk, and so did you, so how about we arrange a little meeting? On my terms of course. There's going to be a simple condition: If she pays me for setting up the 'meeting,' then I'll work for her. If she stabs me in the back, I'll take that knife and drive it into her skull. Fair? To be honest, I'm practically expecting that woman to betray me, so rest easy."


Atlas shrugged and smiled palming the grenades back up into his sleeves. “Let's get this party started Dar’yaim, also do you have a nickname or something? Dar’yaim is a mouthful or like a code name?” Atlas said half joking as the doors slide opened and they walked into the empty atrium.


As they both entered the front room Atlas had his hand on his pistol and palmed a grenade in his left hand.. It was a plain room, white, too clean with a front desk and seats along the wall. 10 Imperial troopers in full armor and blaster rifles filed out of the two doors in the the back of the room surrounding Atlas and Dar’yaim. "You know, on second thought, I might stick a knife through her skull regardless, but play along and we'll both get out of here alive." said Dar’yaim unamused. Atlas chuckled in response.


The troopers pointed their weapons at the two guests as a familiar voice chimed in over speakers in the ceiling. “Nice to see you boys made it. I was getting worried that you changed your Dar’yiam. Leave Atlas with the troopers, since the Mandalorians are with the Empire lets just call it even and you get to leave with your life and forget you saw any of this. If not well lets just say i'll have your suit mounted on my wall and your cock in a jar."


Atlas leaned over to Dar’yiam and whispered loud enough for the troopers to hear. “She really likes cocks.” he stated in a mocking tone. “But in all seriousness, I think it’s time we finished this business.” said Atlas going into a serious tone. Atlas took his hands off his pistol and put them both in the air. “Alright gentlemen I won't resist.” he lied with a mischievous smile creeping across his face.

 

[QizPizza]

“Nice to see you boys made it. I was getting worried that you changed your Dar’yiam. Leave Atlas with the troopers, since the Mandalorians are with the Empire lets just call it even and you get to leave with your life and forget you saw any of this. If not well lets just say i'll have your suit mounted on my wall and your cock in a jar."

"She really likes cocks."

"No doubt about it. And are you really that eager to get me out of my suit, Hera?" Ori let out an amused laugh. "I honestly can't believe you, Hera. Cheating me out of my payday? That just makes me pissed." Ori placed his rifle back into its rack and raised his hands. "But fine...I'll leave. My life isn't worth 25,000 credits. Would you believe I was once worth 1.5 million?"

The Mandalorian began to walk towards the door, and as he did, he called Atlas, "Might want to shut off you implants if they aren't resistant to an EMP." Ori himself shut off his HUD and placed his hand on one of his knives. After waiting to a count of five, Ori gave the order, "Set it off, Sol'yc."

In a matter of moments, the entire safehouse was engulfed in an ECD net. Electricity surged throughout the city block, wreaking havoc on all unprotected electronics. Clearly, the Hera had not anticipated such a move, as the lights soon flickered off, leaving the room in darkness. Whatever electronic locks and security systems in place were destroyed along with the troopers' weapons. In the moment of chaos, Ori drew his knife and flung it a trooper's neck, severing the man's windpipe.

Ori then turned his focus on the two troopers in directly in front of him. With a brutal kick, he sent the Imperial soldier crashing onto the floor. The armor did little to protect him from Ori's foot coming down on his neck. The Mandalorian wondered why the Imperial army even bothers with building such ineffective suits of armor. It was heavy, cumbersome, and offered minimal protection. In his eyes, beskar'gam was the only combat armor worth wearing. But then again, there was nowhere near enough beskar for the millions of grunts the Empire employs, so maybe it was for the best.

For the third trooper, Ori drew his sword. From his back mounted sheath, he pulled out a black, single-edged sword. The blade hummed with from the vibrogenerator as its wielder brought it down onto another trooper's neck, lodging itself into the woman's neck. With a swift pull, Ori brought the blade to match a trooper that managed to recover's rifle. Given that blasters would not work, that soldier had thought decided to use his blaster rifle as a club. It proved to be ineffective, as the sword cleaved right through the durasteel barrel. "Once I get to Hera, I will cut her limbs one. By. One. I'll make sure that cheapskate gets what she deserves. She'll know why I'm called 'Dar'yaim.'"

Orimos "Dar'yaim" Mir​

Health: 100%

Status: Cautious/In Combat
Location: Dantooine - Garang - Safehouse
Interacting With: SpaceDandy
​

 

[SpaceDandy]

"No doubt about it. And are you really that eager to get me out of my suit, Hera?" Ori let out an amused laugh. "I honestly can't believe you, Hera. Cheating me out of my payday? That just makes me pissed." Ori placed his rifle back into its rack and raised his hands. "But fine...I'll leave. My life isn't worth 25,000 credits. Would you believe I was once worth 1.5 million?"

Atlas looked over his shoulder at Dar’yaim and looked back at the troopers. “I like this guys style.” laughed Atlas


The Mandalorian began to walk towards the door, and as he did, he called Atlas, "Might want to shut off you implants if they aren't resistant to an EMP." Ori himself shut off his HUD and placed his hand on one of his knives. After waiting to a count of five, Ori gave the order, "Set it off, Sol'yc."


Athena whispered to him, “Going offline now….” Atlas could feel her presence disappear. She had protective shielding however Athena always played it safe with EMP and had a backup monitoring system within Atlas kicked on.

As soon as the EMP burst through the building Atlas jumped forward on top of the trooper in front of him. He quickly punched the man in the throat directly in the gab between his helmet and chest armor. Atlas felt the wind pipe crush under his fist. Another trooper to the left tackled Atlas off the man as he had punched began kicking and choking to death.

Atlas rolled with the tackle attempting to ripe the helmet off of his assailant. The trooper punched Atlas in his gut causing involuntary expulsion of air. Atlas ripped off the helmet at the same moment. Another trooper attempted to restrain Atlas’s feet but he kicked him square in the genitals cause the man to fall forward into the kick. Atlas was then able to roll on top of the man without the helmet and began punching him in the face repeatedly. Blood splattered and cartilage broke as he landed 6 consecutive punches causing the man’s body to go limp.

The trooper who was kicked in the family jewels had recovered by this point and jumped on Atlas’s back wrapping his arm around Atlas’s throat choking him. Atlas grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him over his shoulder into a chair along the wall. Atlas quickly got off the floor before the man could recover grabbed one of the discarded blaster rifles and beat the trooper of the head consecutively until he stopped moving. Blood began to trickle out of the helmet moments after he stopped and looked back at Dar’yaim cutting down his opponents with ease.

"Once I get to Hera, I will cut her limbs one. By. One. I'll make sure that cheapskate gets what she deserves. She'll know why I'm called 'Dar'yaim.'"

He felt Athena’s presence return. “Glad to have you back Athena, you missed some of the fun.” Atlas said mentally and stepped to the left as another trooper missed tackling him slamming full tilt into the wall bouncing off it onto his back face up beside Atlas. Atlas kicked the man in the head as hard as he could hearing a loud snap. “That -breath- was fun!” said Atlas regaining his breath. As he saw the last two troopers circling around Dar’yaim out of reach of his sword.

Atlas reached down to his blaster pistol looking at it. He could tell he was going to have to replace some parts to get it working again. He slide it back into his holster sighing. By the time he looked back up at Dar’yaim he was walking towards Atlas having taken care of the remaining troopers. “I appreciate the help and did you have to fry my pistol?” said Atlas sarcastically smiling at Dar'yaim.

 

[Longhead]

“No. Lieutenant. Our ship’s engines may be down, as well as our shields, but so are theirs. Keep their breaching tunnel open, collapsing it won’t do anything besides leave both ships floating in space. We use this to board their destroyer. Get on the intercom, muster the non-wounded towards the port side of the ship for a counter attack. I’ll try and secure an area on the other side until they arrive.”

Master Krastag’s word came out in a clear, monotone voice. He had not broken once since the battle begun. Ever since the war with the Sith Empire had begun, the Jedi Council assigned him and his destroyer to the mid-rim. His assignment was to monitor the hyperspace lanes between Yavin and Dromund Kaas. His finest mistake was allowing his troopers to grow undisciplined and lazy, even in war times. He should’ve fully expected to be surprised, but somehow a ship leaving hyperspace in his sector somehow went under the radar. It was things like this that perfectly illustrated why the Republic wasn’t gaining any ground in this war.

His ship had taken heavy losses. Enemy fighters had taken out every surface battery that the ship had, and the shield generators were destroyed beyond any repair they could do in space. The opposition, instead of blowing the ship up outright, had decided to board. The only thing keeping them from taking the bridge was Krastag himself. His troopers did some of the work, but had a Jedi not been there to aid, they would’ve been smashed an hour ago. He used to have a fully stocked ship, 3,600 soldiers and over 5,000 men in crew members.

After rallying the troops, Krastag was down to 1,122 soldiers, and around 2,000 crew members. Most of them were confirmed to be dead, others were missing. Chances are, they were probably dead too.

Before the lieutenant could even reply, Krastag had already stomped away, tightly gripping his lightsaber so hard that the knuckles on his brown skin began to run white. The bridge between ships were already littered with bodies from both sides, some stuff alive, some not, and some wishing that they were dead. They would be helped soon, if there were any medical staff still on board his ship. Upon reaching the other side, he was met with no opposition. It was likely that they had likely sent an entire platoon to board. They would need time to put together another boarding force.

He was in a small, semi circle shaped room that could hold about 100 men. The door to the rest of the ship had been sealed by blast doors. Krastag could feel life forms on the other side. It was meant to be a trap. Deciding to play into their hands, Krastag ignited a single side on his lightsaber, the yellow blade humming in a high pitch. Krastag approached the door slowly, his saber on the same level at his eyes with the tip pointed forward, in poise to stab. Standing about a foot away from the door, he stared at it for a second, centering himself. With a quick grunt, he drove the lightsaber into the door down to the hilt, careful not to burn his hands. The doors were thick, and so Krastag could not cut as quickly as he would’ve hoped.

He slowly but surely cut a wide circle into the door, the thick durasteel slowly giving in to the intense heat of the lightsaber, turning into an reddish orange liquid that highlighted the edges of the lightsaber’s path. After the full circle was cut, Krastag turned his lightsaber off, keeping it in his hand still. He took a few steps back. From the other side, he could feel a rising panic among what he assumed to be soldiers. Krastag grimaced, knowing that there was no way he would get them to surrender on his own. He reached out with his hands, but more than that, with the Force. He grabbed the circular cut out of the door with the Force, and launched it through the hole he had cut, much like an artillery shell leaving the barrel. He heard yelps and surprise and screams, and a few seconds after, the first rounds of blaster fire began to inaccurately come through the door, missing. Krastag ignited a single blade on his saber, deflecting two bolts that were on course to his chest into an adjacent wall.

He made a pull gesture with his free hand, and blaster rifles began flying out of Sith Trooper hands from all directions.

“Surrender. I’ll only ask once.”

Once is all they needed.

The twelve soldiers that had been placed to stop a counter attack sat on their knees in front of Krastag, including the squad’s leader. Republic troopers began flooding through the tunnel in waves with a sense of reestablished morale. His troops would likely be more than enough to clear a reasonable amount of the ship. Judging by the newly surrendered troop’s armor shiny complexions, the ship was likely to be full of new troopers. He magnetically sealed his lightsaber to his belt and watched as his troopers rushed by.

While Krastag’s troopers were securing the port side of the ship, on the starboard side of the ship, Reid sat in the hangar, a hangar that had no power or lights. Reid’s side of the ship was not facing the sun, and due to the life support systems and lights not functioning, he was left floating in the dark, the only thing keeping him alive was his armor, his only illumination being the dull light coming off of his vambrace. He had already connected himself to the computers on the ship in his brief time in the barely functioning bridge without being noticed. The attack on the Republic ship had left the Imperial’s attention left on the Jedi, allowed Reid to freely move about the parts of the ship that weren’t covered in bodies from the corridor battles.

He was monitoring the cameras, only a few feet off of the ground upside. He spoke to himself in the cold hangar, remarking, “The Republic are only so formidable because of their Jedi. Their soldiers aren’t any better than common mercenaries, though I suppose the same argument could be made for the Empire as well.” The Republic troopers crossed the midsection of the ship, making steady progress towards the disabled part of the ship. He had already gotten what he had came for. Tapping a few buttons on his vambrace, he pulled up a small holoprojection of a map of the ship, immediately drawing an imaginary route that would be the quickest for him to get to the escape pods. He was surprised that many of the Imperial troops had ejected from the ship the moment their engines were disabled. The Empire had many more desertions than he had expected. No matter. He tabbed back and forward between his selected route to the escape pods and the cameras of the hallways and corridors he would need to go through. Few of them had any troopers in them, dead or alive. There was no gravity in the hangar, so facing himself right side up was a matter of throwing his momentum to one side. Once he did so, he grabbed the wing of a star fighter that had not been launched, and pushed himself towards the door that was stuck, fortunately for him, stuck open. This part of the ship was barely functional, but it worked just enough that Reid could partially restore the artificial gravity. The gravity seemed to fail in 17 seconds intervals, but sometimes in 15, and other times in 25. Those were 3 exact numbers, but there was no pattern to the failings. It was relative to nothing.

He heard a soft ping come from his wrist as his motion sensor picked up movement. Quickly bringing it to his face, he saw 5 light green dots moving in real time across a dark blue background. Switching to the ships corridor cameras, he saw them trying to cut open one of the blast doors to access the section of the ship with no power. Republic marines. They were nearly finished breaking through. He moved through the hallway to his right until he reached a corner, peeking around the bend and seeing the familiar orangey glow of a torch. He gripped the rounded edge of the corridor to keep himself in place. They likely had the magnetic plates on the bottom of their boots engaged, as not to float in the halls. He tapped a red button on the top left of his vambrace, turning on the generators. He landed on his feet and e began to count to himself.

One…

Two…

He heard the cut-out of the door fall to the ground. From around the corner he heard through their external comms, “The gravity’s on. Disengage your mag-boots. Guys as the bridge must’ve turned it on.”

Seven...Eight…

“Take a knee. Check your gear, the sweep of the ship is almost done. Corporal.”
“Yeah?”
“How’s that blaster burn feeling?”

Reid braced at 15 seconds, but nothing happened.

“I’m fine, sir.”
“Good.”

Sixteen….

Seventeen.

His feet began to float, and he immediately swung into action. He could only hear their confusion for a few seconds, but cracked a smile when he saw the unprepared marines flailing in the air, trying to reach their floating rifles. He un-holstered his pistol and launched himself off of the corner of the corridor, floating about 15 feet in front of them. He aimed with no assistance from his HUD, and fired twice, one burning a hole into a marine’s - the squad leader, designated by a green pauldron’s chest. The second bolt found a home in another’s head, where their left eye would be, the high quality blaster pistol burning a hole into his helmet’s visor. He fired three more times, two landing on a marine’s back, and the last one in roughly the same place as the latest headshot. He fired one more time, aiming for a second consecutive headshot, but the last marine reacted quickly and kicked off of one his dead squadmate’s bodies. He went for the rifle closest to him, but with a quick pulling gesture, Reid pulled the rifle out of his reach with the Force. When he took aim once more, the surviving marine grabbed one of his squad’s bodies and threw it at Reid.

Reid caught the body and pushed it to the side, but by the time he was ready to fire, the marine was already upon him. Anti gravity combat wasn’t exactly his forte, but anything that could be taken care of with his hands was something Reid could do. The marine couldn’t change his direction without something heavier than him to push off of. Reid quickly sized him up, and came to the conclusion that the marine was a lot bigger than him, a solid foot taller than him and maybe 20 extra pounds. He wouldn’t be stopping until he hit the wall behind Reid. Reid threw his legs to the side and rolled to the left, out of the way of the flying marine.

He noticed a plasma burn on the side of the Marine’s torso. It looked like the shot had grazed him, but hadn’t burned deep enough to breach his G suit. He was the Corporal. When the Corporal grabbed onto the wall, he only had enough time to look at Reid before he saw no more.

Reid advanced through the ship, moving through a corridor that gave him access to a part of the ship with gravity. The escape pods were near. He came to an elevator shaft...that was missing the elevator. It was a long way down, and a long way up. He pulled up the holo projection again. He needed to go down…

Krastag’s sweep of the Imperial ship had been going well, though it was apparent that there was still some resistance, no matter how small. He had lost contact with a single squad of marines, 4 men. They were close to securing the other side of the ship and were nearing the starboard hangar last they contacted him. It was only safe to assume that it was just them being forgetful, afterall, it was a miracle that they weren’t all killed outright. Nonetheless, he’d probably ask for fresher troops and have his current ones deployed to the outer rim. They’d learn discipline really quickly out there. Most of the Imperial troopers already aboard the ship quickly deserted their emperor. Their faces were all cleanly shaven and their eyes brighter than the stars - they were fresh out of basic training.

He felt something. The Force’s energies around the area were about as passive as they could be for a battlefield, but something had always been there that he chose to ignore. He felt the application of the Force on the other side of the ship, and the source had moved quickly from that spot quickly. Perhaps the ship didn’t only hold troopers. If the Sith in question was fleeing, chances were it wasn’t a Sith Lord. But that wouldn’t make any sense. Any other rank in the Sith Order weren’t given military powers until they reached Sith Lord or above unless they were specifically given permissions by their master. Perhaps an Apprentice was on board. But that still didn’t add up. The Force emanating off of this one wasn’t dark, but neither was it light. It was a neutral power, no emotion to it, yet there was a violent peace attached to it that couldn’t quite be described by Krastag.

Without worrying about it any further, he decided to check it out. It was nearing the escape pods, but as far as he could tell it was on the same level as he.

“The elevator shaft.” he said to himself. He proceeded to speed walk towards the shaft.

Reid was about to jump before he sensed something. Not his motion tracker, he himself. It was a Jedi, certainly the one in charge. No ordinary padawan would have a presence this strong. It was time to go.

Krastag turned the corner and saw a helmeted figure, the source of the energy he’d be feeling. He was preparing to jump down the elevator shaft. He shouted “Hey! Who are you?” and Reid snapped his head around to look. He hadn’t been tracking his movement on his motion sensor, which was his fault. He didn’t know how close he was, he just knew he was coming. It was definitely time to go. He leaped, and Krastag chased after him. As Reid reached the button, his jetpack fired and it slowed his fall just enough so that he wouldn’t break his legs falling down the shaft. He began to sprint towards the escape pods. Krastag followed down the elevator shaft, using the Force to slow his fall, and began to sprint in pursuit. Reid was a fast runner, but was weighed down by his armor, but Krastag was still not quick enough to close on him immediately. The escape pods were dead ahead, but Krastag was practically on his heels, just out of arms reach. If Reid made it to the escape pods, so would Krastag at nearly the same time. He had to shake him. Reid turned a corner sharply, Krastag followed, but only a second later at the unexpected turn. This put a few feet between the two. Reid unholstered his pistol and leapt into the air and spun 180 degrees to face Krastag, his back parallel to the ground. He fired two shots at Krastag with intent to kill, the bolts soaring towards his head, the only unarmored place on his body. Krastag saw this coming before the shots were even fired through his use of battle precognition, and leaned to the right, expertly avoiding them. The moment Reid’s back hit the ground, he turned on his jetpack, allowing him to slide even further across the ground, the exhaust from the jetpack turning the ground in his wake temporarily orange.

While he was sliding back, he aimed his vambrace at Krastag, firing his grapling line at his ankle. As it twirled around his ankle, Krastag was only a second too slow to ignite his lightsaber to cut it, and it was apparent that the chase might’ve went a little better once Reid pulled on the line sharply, Krastag all but losing his momentum and flying with his back parallel to the ground much like how Reid was only moments ago. His head was the first to hit the ground, and in Krastag’s daze, Reid took the opportunity to run to a corridor where the blast doors closed, and with a few taps of his vambrace, they shut in front of him, effectively cutting a recovering Krastag off. He made his sprint for the escape pods and successfully got into one, jettisoning it before he even had time to sit down. Krastag caught up two seconds after the escape pod was launched, only being able to stare at where the escape pod used to be.

After Reid’s escape pod slowed down, he took a seat and pulled up the map of the sector in his escape pod. He was on course to Dromund Kaas.

Not much he can do about that now. There’s only enough to fuel to get to Korriban, where the Sith would definitely put him down, or Dromund Kaas, where the slightly more competent troopers would hunt him.

He’d take his chances with the latter.

Spoiler

collaboration post with sheesh

 

[Longhead]

‘If we’re twins, how come I never saw her on Tatooine? What has she been doing this entire time? Why didn’t Ma ever say anything about her? No pictures? Not even a single mention of a sibling. The Jedi pick up force sensitives as children, right? How come only she got to be a Jedi. That’s not even fair. Why not me? Better yet, why not both of us? Living as a Jedi is so much better than living anywhere in the Outer Rim…’

‘Why wasn’t he there?’

Kaiser was deep in thought, questions concentrated on just his twin. He was brought back at the mention of his mother on his father’s part. He had only known his sister for a few seconds less than he had known him, and Kaiser was already getting the strange suspicion that she was the favorite child as of now. Somehow. Judging by Darth Nar’ah’s face, he found that acting before you thought was a bad thing. True as it may be in most cases:

There was a certain science to being reckless.

A science that Kaiser had essentially perfected.

Had he not, he would’ve been killed off in some alley on Tatooine. There’s usually not enough time for you to think in tight situations like the ones you found yourself in on some rough planet. He had it easy on Tatooine. Never had to deal with a hut gang, and none of the bottom of the barrel events that happened on Nar Shadaa with their large array of gangs and criminal organizations. One of the things that made it easier to live on Tatooine is that not everyone had the ability to choke someone out without even touching them. Made you look real scary. Maybe if he had a big glow stick like the guys behind him, he might’ve looked a tiny bit scarier. Perhaps it was better than he didn’t. He knew better than anyone else that he was more likely to cut off his own arm rather than the guy he was fighting.

On the question of his mother’s well-being, he could only think, ‘No one else to ask, eh?’ before saying out loud, “Your guess at her status is just as good as mine. I haven’t seen her in..4 years, almost five in Coruscant standard time. I haven’t heard from her in some time either. She kind of threw me out. If I seem like I act without thinking, just know I think before I act just enough to get by. I would’ve died a while ago if I didn’t.”

‘Ain’t that funny? Two twins, exact polar opposites. I’m reckless, she’s calculated, I’m with the dark side, she’s with the light side. I feel like we’ll get along just fine.’

Spoiler

shadowz1995 Croaker

 

[QizPizza]

"I appreciate the help and did you have to fry my pistol?"

"Sorry about that. All of my gear is protected, so I didn't consider your blaster." Ori switched his HUD back on and surveyed the carnage. He drew his own pistol and handed it to Atlas. He made sure the safety was on before presenting it handle-first. Though the two cooperated in this fight, it was far from a guarantee that Atlas wouldn't turn on Ori. The Mandalorian only hopes that his job would made easier with the red headed man's assistance. "Here, borrow mine for now. Return it in good shape. This pistol is a piece of custom equipment, so it isn't cheap."

"Now..." Ori scanned the room with bloody sword in hand. "Syb, Ryn, get down here, Atlas isn't a target anymore. We need you to take care of the bodies."

In a matter of seconds, the sisters entered and began to strip the Imperial soldiers of their armor and equipment. No doubt it would be useful in future infiltration missions or for selling on the Dark Net. Eventually, It's scanners picked up a hidden hatch underneath an horrendous orange and green rug in the corner of the room. "Terrible decor. She must've thought the rug's ugliness would make people avert their eyes from the area."

He takes the rug away, exposing a rejnforced blast hatch. Something a bunker would have. The ECDs disabled its electronic locks, but manual locks were still in place. A thermal detonator would do the trick quite nicely, but Hera didn't know the outcome of the scuffle after the ECDs went off. Ori wanted to keep her in the dark and make her worry. Taking a more delicate approach, he took out a canister of thermite paste and applied it over where the locks should be. A quick blast his wrist blasters ignited the paste. The chemical reaction sent up sparks and globs of molten metal flying, while the hottest of the metal melted straight through the hatch's lock.

After a few moments, the process was done and Ori pried the hatch open. The hole leading down to he bunker was dark, save a small emergency light at the bottom. "Hey, Atlas, I think I found where that little bitch was hiding. But just in case...Ryn, check the upper floors. Knowing her, she'd rather hide than fight, but Sol'yc will cover just in case." Taking one more look into the hole, Ori primed a smoke bomb on his belt. "Be quiet, I want to get the drop in Hera. And heads up, I'm going to drop a smoke once I get down there. Don't want you getting the wrong idea."

Ori quietly climbed down into the bunker. The first room was not much to look at: a few storage racks with rations, an empty table, and a doorway leading to a short hallway. He tossed the smoke bomb on his belt into the hall. The hallway and the two rooms it led to were filled with a red smoke that blocked all vision except infrared visors. Hera was now blind, and trapped. It was time to see how she would try to talk or fight her way out of this. Should give Ori a bit of kick to see the outcome.

The first of two doors in the hallway led to a refresher, nothing interesting. However, in the second room were three humanoid lifeforms. Two were wearing armor with Imperial identification codes, and the other wasn't armored. In the haze of the smoke, the two Imperial troops were panicking, allowing Ori and Atlas to swiftly kill them without being detected. Several feet in front of the soldiers sat the blue haired they've been looking for.

Ori purposely let the trooper he took out hit the floor loud enough for Hera to notice.

"Sergeant Maria? What the hell was that?" Hera's head twisted around to find that the two troopers guarding her were no longer standing in place. She drew a pistol and pointed it in the general direction of the door. "Sergeant, if this is a joke, I am going to make sure your commanding officer hangs your funny ass."

Silence. Hera continued to spew more threats and insults at the deceased sergeant. Everytime Hera bother to open her mouth, Ori slowly crept closer to the woman, until he was right next to her. The darkness of the room and the red smoke concealed him almost perfectly as Hera panicked. Ori was enjoying watching her suffer, but he had a job to finish and weapons to sell.

Right as Hera began to stand up, Ori made his move. He came up behind the woman and placed his left hand on her neck, while his right hand wrestled the blaster away from her. The flash of pure terror in her eyes made all the careful execution worth it. "Hello again, Hera. I think you own me an apology. If you make it nice enough, I'll consider letting you keep all your fingers. But before I deal with you, I believe Atlas was to have a talk with you." He let go of her throat and took a step back, keeping careful watch on her. "Go ahead, Atlas, ask whatever you want."

Orimos "Dar'yaim" Mir​

Health: 100%

Status: Cautious/In Combat
Location: Dantooine - Garang - Safehouse
Interacting With: SpaceDandy
​

 

[SpaceDandy]

Atlas shifted his posture and leaned over grabbing a combat out of the dead troopers boot. “Look Hera I know you can resist torture so let’s just dispense with all the bullshit and get down to brass tacks.” She looked at him with an expression he had never seen her wear. It was a mixture of amusement and fear. She had changed her outfit to a skin tight jet black imperial jump suit. It looked like she had been readying to leave the city. “I’ll tell you what Atlas…” she said as she gave a side glace to Dar’yaim sizing up her chances of escape. “For old time’s sake I’ll let you buy a clue. A storm is coming Atlas and you want to be on the right side. The Republic is weak and feeble minded if they think their current tactics are going to win this.”

Atlas shook his head sighing. “So what you sold us out for a few credit and a pat on the back?” Atlas said with venom in his voice. Hera leaned back in her chair with a feral grin creeping across her face. “The SIS is too new and to under financed and understaffed to even put up meager counter intelligence operations agents the Imperial Operatives.” Atlas looked at Dar’yaim for a moment not wanting to divulge too much information, but this is may be the only chance to glean more information from her before the Merc ghosted her. “We joined the SIS to protect the galaxy not toss it to slavers or worse.” Atlas said unemotionally. She began to cackle her blue hair was in disarray and flew around her as her laughing racked her body like a lunatic.

Atlas looked around the room and noted it was a small control center. He could see video feeds of captives, they looked small. “What I really need from you is who flipped you Hera? How many others in the SIS are double agents?” He asked getting to the point. “You might walk away from this if you can give me the information I need.” Atlas pointed to Dar’yaim “Or I could just leave you to him, I’m sure he has ways of making you talk and he has the motivation to do it you double crossing Harlot.” Atlas bartend as a small crept up the side of his face. “Atlas you were a good operative but not that good.” She laughed.

“However….” She said sweat pouring down her face. Her expression changed as her arms began to tremble and her face became a shade of red more noticeable because of her blue hair. “There are others like me…..I’ll give you the name…Shesun..” Atlas looked at her with hesitation as a small explosion of brain matter painted Dar’yaim’s armor. Smoke smoldered out of the right side of her head where her implant was… The Sith must have gotten to her….and set a fail-safe.

Atlas looked over at Dar’yaim not wanting to elaborate too much but knew the man was ultra inquisitive. “We have fail safes if we begin to divulge information….” Athena had remained unusually silent during the whole affair. “This data would coincide with her unusual behavior as of late. Quickly get to the computers and jack in before all the data is lost.” Athena said with urgency. Atlas stepped around Hera’s body in the control chair and pulled out a small connection cable out of his right arm and plugged it into the round droid interface slot.

Athena expertly secured what files she could as the system was beginning a wipe. Athena Worked feverishly as sweat dripped down Atlas’s face. “I have to save as much data as possible.” Atlas explained as he worked on opening the cell doors to the set of cells that must be further into the bunker. He released all the force fields and locks to the armory before the system shut itself off. Athena had gathered some important Intel before the system wiped as well.

 

[QizPizza]

“We have fail safes if we begin to divulge information….”

"No shit. Coward." Ori didn't even flinch at the explosion. He scornfully brushed off a clump of bloody hair and brain matter from his shoulder. "Not to mention rude. Getting blood off my armor is going to be a pain in the ass. If she was still alive, I would've made sure she knew what pain was. Ryn is very good at keeping people alive and suffering."

The Mandalorian plugged his datapad into the terminal in a far more casual way than Atlas. He was in no rush for any data. If this turncoat was connected to an organization, then any information can easily be sold back to the Republic. When the system was wiped, he was able to retrieve a few dossiers and such. Thankfully, the terminal was shielded, so the ECDs did minimal damage.

Atlas was an interesting man. An agent of this Republic organization called SIS that was responsible for convert operations and intelligence. Ori had never heard of the SIS, but that was probably the point. From the conversation, it was clear that the group was small, dissatisfied and falling apart. No doubt if Ori mentioned it to the right people, he could pull in a enormous bounty. What was troubling was that these SIS agents were joining the Empire, like Hera. In this regard, Atlas checked out. A man loyal to the Republic, or at least to doing the right thing. A man after Ori's own heart.

When Atlas finished his part of slicing the terminal, Ori set out to introduce himself. "You seem like a decent man, Atlas. We haven't had a chance to formally introduce ourselves. I'm Orimos Mir, a Mandalorian contracted by the Republic to harass the Empire. They don't pay me well, but they let me keep whatever weapons I find and sell to whoever, as long as they aren't directly related to the Empire."

Atlas smiled and extended his hand in friendship, "I have a hundred other names but Atlas is who I am now. I do all the dirty work no one wants to touch with a ten foot pole."

"You and me both, Atlas." Ori shook the man's hand.

Taking a look around the control room, he found that there was a recently opened door to the left of where the remains of Hera were. It was a shielded door and inside was small armory stocked with Imperial weapons and munitions. Ori whistled to himself. All of the weapons in the room combined could easily nab 30,000 credits, on top of the weapons left over from the transaction made by Sol'yc, Rev and Massk. Of course, some heavy explosives will be taken off the top, but this was more than worth the effort of hunting down Hera. For killing a few Imperial troopers, a short chase across the city and a target that killed herself, it was pretty good deal. "You can forget about paying me, Atlas. All these weapons and whatever I can salvage from this bunker, is all the payment I need. Feel free to take a few items though. It'll still be worth more than the 10,000 you promised me earlier."

Atlas shrugged, "Well I am more interested in the kids detained here than what's in the armory. Care to join me just in case its a trap? Oh, I almost forgot." The former SIS agent tossed Ori the custom blaster lent to him and picked up another blaster off of Hera's corpse. It was a probably just as customized as Ori's own, but Mandalorian preferred his own creations. "I owe you one, Orimos. If you ever need help, let me know. I'll be there."

"That's a big promise, Atlas, but I offer the same to you," He holstered the blaster and began to pick through all various crates and storage racks to inspect the merchandise. When he was confident that all security locks were disabled and the weapons were still viable, he called his allies. "Massk, I need your help hauling some more weapons, so bring the crates and repulsor lift with you. Rev, put down the bottle and get over here. Sol'yc, stay at your post and keep watch, in case we triggered any distress signals."

As he spoke, Ryn called in, "Hey, boss, we found... a bunch of children and a woman locked up on the third floor. The doors suddenly opened and they're staying put. What should we do with them?"

Ori recalled that several of the terminal's security feeds were displaying some sort of cell containing numerous children. "Keep them there and keep them calm. The last thing we need a child slaughter on our hands." Ori's crew muttered various signs of affirmation, before signing off. "So, Atlas, Syb and Ryn found the detainment cells on the third floor. They're keeping the kids there for now, but I think we should check them out as soon as possible."

Orimos "Dar'yaim" Mir​

Health: 100%

Status: Pleased
Location: Dantooine - Garang - Safehouse
Interacting With: SpaceDandy
​

 

[Croaker]

Feather - Jamadir of The Schar​

A small, sliver of a smile cracked Feather’s stoic face as the doors to his private chamber were violently wrenched open by the might of the droid Oh-One. The autonomous robot rushed forward into the room, taking a knee as it belted its question. Feather couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Oh, my dear Oh-One, your concern is enough to melt this old soldiers cold, dead heart.” Feather seemed to give an inquisitive look over the droid while maintaining his poisonous smile. “You are correct, the good doctor did stay for a visit, but there is nothing to fret over. We were simply... catching up. Agivel and I go way back, you see? Forget there was ever any issue.” Feather’s tone seemed to imply this was less of a suggestion and more of a command.
From his prone position, Feather raised his hand and gently patted the side of Oh-One’s headpiece, starring up at the droid with cold, intelligent eyes, eyes that picked apart the droid. There was not much to discover, Feather decided.

Using Oh-One as a temporary balance, Feather lifted himself to his feet and began walking over to a console in his room.
“Any who, enough of the Good Doctor. There are heads that need to roll, my dear, and I have an assignment for you.”
Activating the console, Feather pulled up an array of charts, photos and other such neatly organized data.
“I’m sure you’re already aware, but earlier I had a bit of a... business trip, shall we call it? I visited our friends on Tatooine; the Celven family. They had been working with us for longer than you’ve been in commission, and recently it has come to my attention that they’ve employed certain levels of skullduggery against us. How is not important. What is important is that we retrieve our stolen assets, or make up for our losses in some way.”
An image of a wrecked and ravaged Imperial convoy suddenly took shape on the Console.
“To make tracking the assets easier, I managed too wrangle some information out of our friends on Tatooine before their disposal. Thus far, we’ve been able to successfully locate twenty-three percent of our missing assets. However, what interests me right now is a certain fraction of that twenty-three percent; this convoy.” Feather gestured to the image on the console.
“The convoy pictured here – or rather, what’s left of it – was en route to deliver weapons to our friends at the Empire, weapons that were paid for with our stolen money. Luckily for us, in a sort of cruel twist of irony, those weapons never made it to their final destination. There was an ambush, you see? This of course has left the officials of the Empire in a bit of a fuss, but puts us in a good position to earn more favor with those old fools.” Feather once again faces Oh-One, a dangerous look on his face. “That’s why I need you, my darling pet, to track the leader of this ambush and reclaim the weapons that rightfully belong to us. From there, I will handle how the Empire receives them.” Finger’s quickly darting over the console, Feather types in a string of commands.
“I’ve given you access to plug into this console so you may download the information on the incident for yourself. You may take up to four other mercenaries from my company, as well as a pilot if need be. I suggest you travel to Dromund Kaas first to analyze the scene of the ambush, and from there, do whatever you deem fit to locate those responsible. Use extreme prejudice, and bring me back those weapons.” A devilish smile played on Feather’s lips. “Oh, and do be careful on Kaas. The sky there has a nasty habit of bleeding lightning.”
Longhead QizPizza (mentioned - sorta)

 

[SpaceDandy]

Atlas quickly patted down Hera’s corps grabbing a holdout pistol, a data cube, and some odds and ends as Orimos was informing him of the children. Atlas smiled, “I guess it’s time to go see what the Empire wants with children.” Said Atlas. Atlas and Orimos finished getting what they needed from the control room and headed up stairs. Athena chimed in as they began walking. “It appears the children are students of the Jedi, there is also one Jedi Knight Female present.” Noted Athena, Atlas sighed.

“Orimos it looks like we will be dealing with some Jedi.” Atlas commented. Jedi were pompous and arrogant in Atlas’s eyes. Everyone he had met thus far was too self-righteous just like the Sith didn’t give two womp-rats about anything other than themselves. It was light night and day, ying and yang. Atlas wished that neither the Jedi or the Sith existed so he wouldn’t get caught up the crazy space wizards personal wars and vendettas. It could just be regular ol good, bad, and the ugly denizens of the universe fighting it out…Oh well…

Athena jumped in again. “It appears that the Jedi will need extraction to a safer location.” Atlas smiled as they continued up to the second floor. “I will need to take them to one of the SIS safe houses until I can contact the Jedi Council for a pickup.” Replied Atlas mentally. “Also how is processing the data fragments going Athena?” he inquired. “It may take me some time due to the encryption level and the data loss.” She replied. Atlas made a mental note to check in on her later.

As Orimos and Atlas came up to the second floor there stood a gaggle of younglings with a young human female Jedi Knight. Syb and Ryn had the small group under control and in the middle of some kind of waiting room well outside of cells. “Who are you people?” said the woman who was a Jedi Knight.

Athena brought up a profile on the Jedi. Her name was Lyyr Sartori trained under Jedi Master Isabeau Lankost. There were some notes about her being a gifted healer. “I think its fair to say were the good guys Jedi Knight Lyyr.” Said Atlas in an amused tone. She scowled at him and before she could reply Atlas added. “We are with the Republic, Atlas flashed his holo ID at her that showed the name Tyris Masaque Captain in the Republic's Special Operations Brigade and I was assisted by these outstanding Citizens of the Republic." pointing to Orimos, Syb and Ryn.

“Captain Masaque you have my thanks…” She said with reservation. “We will ensure all of your safe return to the Jedi however; I need to acquire a few things a few rooms down. If you would be so kind as to wait here with these wonderful ladies my associate and I will be back momentarily.” Atlas winked at Syb and Ryn and walked past the force wielding rug rats. As Atlas and Orimos were out of earshot of the Jedi he said to Orimos, “ There is a small security observation room with some intel and confiscated lightsabers and blasters. I am sure the Jedi Knight will want hers back. Did i ever tell you there are two things that annoy me in the galaxy, one is kids, two is self-righteous woman.. and it looks like I’m stuck with both until we can unload them at a safe house.”

QizPizza

 

[shadowz1995]

"Blind luck only takes you so far...." The Sith Lord cautioned with a stern glare to the male twin. Seemingly unbeknownst to the siblings, their inner turmoils might as well have been served to Nar'ah on a silver platter. Senjak might have been able to mask her thoughts much better but she wasn't accustomed to emotion and it showed.

Shesun took slow, deliberate steps down from his Judge's chair, approaching his children with an expression as cold as the steel beneath their feet. With a light wave of the hand, the Darth's apprentices deactivated their lightsabers and assumed a poised but relaxed stance. As Shesun approached, the took several steps back to give the Sith a respectful amount of room.

For a long moment, Shesun merely peered down from under the shadows of his black hood. The golden luminescence seemingly bearing down upon them like a dim searchlight in a blackened sky. A stifling silence floated between them. It wasn't until Shesun took an audible breath that he spoke, "Would you have stayed where you were, your lives could have been different.... It brings me no pleasure to declare but you knelt down as free individuals here. In the coming days, you may regret not having died free. Now, you will both rise as my acolytes. You will rise as pawns of the Empire."

"You will rise as Sith."

"You no longer have a choice."

Shesun took a step backwards and motion with his hands for the twins to rise from their kneeling positions. There was no forcefulness to the gesture but the very air that Lord gave off left no room for disobediance or insolence. It was clear Shesun was not needlessly cruel but he obviously did not tolerate anything but complete obediance when it came to his commands.

Croaker Longhead

(Ill move the scene along after this)

 

[QizPizza]

“There is a small security observation room with some intel and confiscated lightsabers and blasters. I am sure the Jedi Knight will want hers back. Did i ever tell you there are two things that annoy me in the galaxy, one is kids, two is self-righteous woman.. and it looks like I’m stuck with both until we can unload them at a safe house.”

"Can't say that I particularly like the Jedi either, but they're tolerable...at times..." Ori considered the options he had at the moment. They could let the Jedi and the kids go by themselves, but that would not play out very well when word reached the Republic. If he was lucky, he would receive a potential pay cut for abandoning a Jedi and a bunch of kids on a farming planet with little to no way of leaving. If Ori was unfortunate, he would have to sit through another meeting discussing the terms of his contract. Or rather, be told what he was supposed to be doing. Those meetings are exhausting and a waste of his time, and it would be preferable that he avoided them.

Other alternatives include slaughtering all of them, but that was against the original plan and Ori's personal values. The Kandosii didn't have enough room for all these kids and the he they were planning on taking, but maybe Atlas had a bigger ship. Not exactly ideal based on Atlas's disdain of children and Jedi. If Ori could find somewhere to offload the "merchandise" then he would have enough space for the children. "I know children can be a pain in the ass. On occasion, I am in charge of disciplining the unruly adiik...sorry, children. I can help you transport half of them, but I need to either fence or stash all the weapons first. Take Syb and Ryn with you, they're good with children."

"Alright sounds like a plan, I am not sure which safe house I'll be taking them too, Either Nar Shaddaa or Alderaan. I am leaning towards Nar Shaddaa. The Jedi make it more complicated especially the kids. Either way, I'll contact the Jedi Guardians so they can get the kids safely back to Coruscant. I'll send you channel and encryption needed to contact my ship any time. If it's okay with you, I'll take the Jedi Knight so I can debrief her on the way. On a side note, I'm concerned about Hera mentioning Shesun Nar'ah, the Sith Lord. I think these turn of events run much deeper then a few flipped SIS agents."

"Nar Shadaa sounds good. I'll take care of the weapons and I'll come by to pick up the kids once I'm done." The mercenary returned to the group of children and the Jedi. "So here's the plan: Captain Masaque will take all of you to his ship for a bit so I can make room in mine for you. Syb and Ryn will go with you guys." He gestured towards the two blue Twi'leks. Ryn practically squealed with excitement. Whispering into Ryn's ear, he said, "Make sure you keep them safe. I don't want a repeat of the whole child slaughter incident on Geonosis."

Ori then went back down into the bunker, where he began take the weapons up. It was a tedious process until Massk arrived with a repulsor lift with the assistance of the lift, Ori, Rev and Massk managed to load all of the weapons in the bunker onto a speeder, as well as whatever electronics they could salvage. Upon returning to Dock 7, he checked the docks beside it for any smuggler he could employ. Docks 1-6, 8 and 9 were all either empty or containing a civilian shuttle. The Mandalorian finally got a break at Dock 10, where he found a heavily modified Dynamic-class freighter. A freighter like this was a sure indicator of a smuggler, given it's modularity. At the loading ramp was a Rodian, managing a datapad.

As Ori approached, the green skinned alien looked up, "What are you doing in this dock? Do you plan on threatening me for some sort of payment?"

"What? No." Ori sounded incredulous, as if he would never extort a person for credits. "I have honor, unlike some of the cowards on this planet. But I digress. I would like to hire you to haul a shipment."

"What makes you think I'm a smuggler?"

"Your ship. No civilian would modify a Dynamic-class freighter if they didn't have the intention of smuggling. Besides, that other smuggler over there is examining that crate of 'nerf jerky' a bit too conspicuously. I can see all the drugs inside." The Mandalorian pointed to a Zabrak carelessly poking though several open crates.

"Ganzur! You idiot! You want us to get arrested?" The Rodian facepalmed before turning back to Ori. "Alright, fine. As long as you don't turn us in. What do you want?"

"Eight crates of merchandise to Nar Shaddaa. Do it as quickly as possible and send the location through this channel when you land so I know where you are. 5,000 credits it's a simple job."

"Make it 3,500 upfront and 3,500 when you receive it and it's a deal, Mandalorian." The Rodian tapped at his datapad before presenting it to Ori. "Just sign this contract."

Ori carefully looked through the contract. He'd hate to be cheated by some secret business man or accidentally sell his ship for a nerf burger. When he was confident that he wasn't being cheated or entering a death pact, he signed away. The datapad then sent a copy of the contract to his own datapad. "There you go...got a name?"

"Cordon. And I'll get it there as soon as we take care of our current cargo. Just bring your cargo here with the payment and we'll take care of it."

"Much appreciated." Ori head back to his ship, where Massk and Reverend were waiting with a speeder hooked up to a trailer loaded to the brim with crates. Cordon did not seem too suspicious, but just in case, he placed two trackers in each crate: one haphazardly dropped in, and the other hidden in the barrel of a blaster on the bottom of the crate. This way, Ori would know if Cordon decided to run off with his weapons. When the crew of the Kandosii finished handing the cargo off to Cordon, Ori messaged Atlas.

-Where is your ship?-

-Dock 13-

-Any empty Docks nearby?-

-Dock 14's empty-

-Perfect. Be there in a bit. Hang on with the kids-

With that, Ori took the Kandosii over to Dock 14 and prepared to take an a bunch of kids to Nar Shaddaa. That would be an interesting experience to say the least. The crew had to set up some seats in the cargo bay and stash all of Rev's alcohol and raunchy holomovies. When they was done, Ori went to Atlas's ship to collect the children.

Orimos "Dar'yaim" Mir​

Health: 100%

Status: Relaxed
Location: Dantooine - Garang - Dock 14
Interacting With: SpaceDandy
​