Jump to content
sunflower

Star Wars: Interregnum

Recommended Posts

IC:

 

Uh...huh.

 

"I'll think about it," Costa said playfully. "I grew up on Nar Shaddaa, so I don't think I'll have toooo much trouble with some ghost world. But just in case, Sarir. Raine. Veyura. I want you three to board a shuttle and follow me down to the planet's surface exactly twenty four hours after I dock on Taris. I move faster on my own, but I'd have to be an idiot to go down there solo. Sarir, you'll be in charge of that ground team. It's time I potty trained you. Those of you who stay onboard, I want you to keep your ears open around the brass. I don't think they're sending me down just because I have the prettiest smile in the Outer Rim."

 

IC:

 

"Your ###### rustbucket might not be so helpful now, either," Reo deadpanned. "Taris is still Imperial-controlled, even in name only. I was banking on a few hours to give our new landing codes a test."

 

The paths of Alderaanians who had fought under the Empire's banner had branched in a few directions. Many had defected to the Rebel Alliance, augmenting the ranks of their starfighter pilots, blaster-toting guerillas, and diplomats with thousands overnight. A good chunk, like Reo, had left the Empire along with them, but found the idea of a Rebel starbird on his or her shoulder too disconcerting after spending so long gunslinging or dogfighting under the belief that the Alliance meant to rip apart all stability in the galaxy. Many of this sect of deserters had gone mercenary. Others had gone into hiding away from the Empire, or sought out other refugees to rebuild a colony far away from Imperial reach.

 

But there were those who believed that the best way to draw blood from the Empire was from within its very veins; these subversive elements inside the military had a habit of leaking intel to other Alderaanians who needed to, in the words of a wise man, avoid any Imperial entanglements - or take advantage of their upbringings to reassume the veil of Imperial authority. Reo had amassed many of these contacts over the years, and thanks to Aldera, along with her small complement of smaller vessels, many Imperial controlled planets that Reo and Skri had jobs or contacts on had learned to see what they wanted to see. Changing the codes up every few months was just as easy as shedding an old alias, and thanks to the still-functioning Imperial bureaucracy, had less chance of some old enemy coming back to haunt you than that old alias.

 

Normally, however, Reo liked to test the validity of these codes a few hours in advance. R5's ######up, while not life-threatening, could be inconvenient if this season's codes weren't up to snuff.

 

Regardless, the pilot reached over and fiddled with a couple switches, turning the broadcast on. Taris wasn't blockaded by anything even remotely worthy of being called a garrison, but it still helped to have them going while you left the ship in orbit. Reo turned to Skri over his shoulder and shrugged lazily.

 

"Guess we'll find out when we find out. Shall I go and prep one of the shuttles?"

 

-Tyler

Edited by Costa Vespula

whats up doc

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

"Thanks for giving me the A-List, Vespula." The Inquisitorius medic said dryly. regarding Nokon from his spot on the wall. The Inquisitor, frankly, was too huge to miss with an appearance that screamed less "subtlety" and more "bad guy's enforcer". As a rule, Liare trusted just about every Inquisitor about as far as he could throw them. In a place swimming with the Dark Side, loyalty wasn't exactly high up on the common Inquisitorius traits. In Raine's case, that rule meant he trusted them even less than most people. How eager he was to head down didn't much help, either. 

 

Still, no reason to let him know that. Veyura wasn't in the room, so he'd have to seek her out after all this was done. Let her know what was up. Maybe try and figure out how likely it was he was gonna get shanked in the back with a lightsaber when they landed on Taris. Never knew with these people, y'know?

 

"Raine, you're the big guy. Gonna need you to put that roid rage to work, we're gonna have supplies to load." He stepped away from the wall, slipped his hands into his pockets, and let a grin cross his face while he stepped towards the center of attention the room. "If I'm in charge of that crew, boss, then first thing's first. I gotta object to the delay."

"You want to fly lone wolf, that's fine. But if they're sending you down this isn't a picnic, and twenty four hours is gonna put us behind schedule. I'd be willing to give you six, ma'am."

 

IC:

"Yeah. Pick the one with the big gun." Skri Menere kicked her feet up the dash, flicking her eyes casually through the sensor readout. Technically hers was the copilot seat, after more than a little early territoriality with her XO. She wouldn't admit it, but he was the better flyer. Didn't bother her much. Imp training or no, she was better with boots on the ground. Said boots, speaking of which, were tapping out a rhythm only she could hear into thin air. Had to pass the time somehow.

"If D1K's not off his , right him. I'll get the gear ready once we're a little closer to landing. Usual covers. Weapons in a crate on the shuttle."


fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

Costa suppressed a groan and settled for a pouty grimace.

 

"I can't believe that the man who once replaced all my makeup on Coruscant with Ewok honey is going to impose a curfew on his superior."

 

IC:

 

"Yup. On it." Reo pushed himself out of his chair and kicked it back under the console with the back of his foot. On his way off the bridge, the Imperial paused with the back half of his right foot still off the ground - and then swiveled on the toe of his boot to face Skri, lean down, and plant a semi-mocking kiss on her brow. "Happy Harmony Day, Skri. Maybe next year I'll finally whip up that breakfast in bed you're always up my about." Reo gently bit bit the back of his bottom lip and winked sardonically at the woman in the co-pilot's seat. "Or I could get R5 to do it. He's the romantic onboard."

 

Skri, as a genetic byproduct of three species, loved to reap the rewards of her busy holiday schedule from her first mate whenever possible. The Zeltron holidays were always the most fun, simply because the species placed so much emphasis on affection. Affection that the captain, whenever possible, liked to pretend to eschew.

 

Made it more fun when she cracked.

 

-Tyler


whats up doc

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

"No curfew, boss, just making sure my own job isn't shot in the foot from day one."

IC:

"I'll space you one day, y'know that?" The Captain threatened, albeit without much real effort behind it, and glared at the ex-Imperial that was her XO. "I will. One day, when you've irritated me more than you're useful, I will."


fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

"Keep insisting that. Makes every day you don't follow through a little sweeter."

 

Reo left the bridge with a flippant salute and a quiet snicker, doubling back to the lift.

 

-Tyler


whats up doc

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC(Nokon): Raine pushed down at the anger welling up in him, both for the perceived slight of being passed over for this mission, and the disrespect from Sarir. He had to remind himself that these offenses were likely not personal, the Chief had taken a shine to Sarir, and Sarir just... Liked to joke about at other peoples expense. Okay, that one might be personal... Still, the smaller man had been placed in charge, and that meant that for now, he was the boss. Nokon positioned himself behind Sarir, hoping to add support to the argument that 24 hours has too long to wait, and also hoping to intercept him when they were dismissed. He'd like to talk to this man before they left, see where his mind was.


"Quis custodiet ipsos custodies? Your grace."


"I know that one. 'Who watches the Watchmen?' Me, Mr. Pessimal."


"Ah, but who watches you, your grace?"


"I do that too. All the time."


 


If anyone would be interested in co-hosting a Discworld-themed RPG for OTC, please PM me!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC: (Enaltai, Somewhere in Taris)

 

"Whoever it is," Enaltai muttered, "they... seem to have stopped following us, that much is clear. Yet... at the same time, they're not far. And it looks as though they're getting closer. Just... a lot less coordinately than before. Are we anywhere close to that safehouse of yours?"

Edited by Poe Dameron

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC: Rex (Taris)

 

Rex checked around the next corner before answering. "We are extremely close, we've actually crossed into the Lower City by this point. It should be... there!" the human quietly exclaimed. On a corner stood an old, yet still intact, building with chipped paint and an unintelligible sign above it. The entrance was boarded shut, along with the windows, but they were the same boards that he remembered, so nothing seemed like it had come in. "There's a secret entrance on the other side, though it may be a bit of a squeeze." As it turned out, the hole was just big enough for them to fit through, and as they stood up on the other side, Rex glanced around the dim interior appreciatively. "No one's been here. Good."

 

There was a thick layer of dust coating every surface of the area once filled with games and simulators, sparking memories of Rex's time here. This had been where he'd done his first simulator ride, but the arcade had soon closed due to a lack of funds. Fortunately, the place was in excellent repair, and he could see a door which he knew led to the hopefully less dusty managerial rooms, and possibly a power switch.

 

"Follow me, I think the power switch is this way. By the way, did we lose whoever was following us?"

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

With a grunt of pain, Rav braced his shoulder as he slid down the rusted armor plating of some blown-out cruiser who's drive assembly was the only thing sticking out of the polluted swamp. He reached the ground and ran off his excess speed before resuming the slower pace he'd taken to. The blast from the Imperial warship had thrown him against the cockpit harness, and wrenched his shoulder from its socket. A few agonizing seconds was all it had taken to set it back into place, and a shot of an anesthetic from the bomber 's field kit numbed the pain; he just wasn't planning on shooting straight for a few days. He'd been hoping to stay on Taris for as little time as possible, but finding transport was going to stretch out his stay here all the longer. The planet was still technically Imperial, and even if the local garrison didn't have enough troopers to set up checkpoints every five meters, he still had a mark on his head.

 

Voices up ahead caught his attention, and the pilot held his blaster up, immediately starting to move towards an outcropping of twisted metal. The graveyard was bound to be roamed by scavengers, but not running into any was apparently too much to ask for. They were coming this way, their boots making dull thuds against the debris-filled ground. Rav peered around his cover to get a bead on the vagrants...?

 

There were two of them, a human and twi'lek, and they were honestly too well dressed to be scavengers. Which was to say, not looking like they rolled around in the muck for a living. Mercenaries? Maybe, but unlikely. They were armed, the rifle slung across the human's back was certainly testament to that. Travelers, then. Which meant they had a ship, or a means to get one.

 

So he took a chance, and holstered his blaster before stepping out into the open, prefacing with a simple, "Looking to get into the city, think you two could help?"


Where to Iggy?

    ˹STAR WARS: INTERREGNUM˼   ˹EXO-FORCE˼   ˹BZPRPG˼

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

"Yeah, yeah, go prep the ####### shuttle."

 

IC:

Taris was one of the grimiest cities you could possibly visit in Imperial space. And it was Imperial space, even if its corrupt and inept governing and policing bodies could easily be mistaken for the Rebel Alliance. It was ruled by Imperials. It was policed by Imperials. And its spaceports were guarded by Imperials. Imperial standards, Imperial laws, and Imperial wanted notices. The latter was the matter that had been most vexing. Not that slipping past customs had been hard.

 

In the Core Worlds, protocol was followed to the letter. In the Outer Rim a good bluff would do. An Imperial ID card was enough to get her through customs without anything more than a cursory check, and without a single moment's thought to whether she was who she said she was. She had the card, she knew the protocol, and she looked the part.

 

So NT-081 slipped through the spaceport before they ever realized who she was, and vanished into the Lower City before they could figure out where she went. It hadn't taken much effort to find a small room she could rent while she was on Taris, under a fake name of course, thus ensuring she had a base of operations. But the customs officials had realized who she was eventually, as she thought they would, which meant that getting off this rock had gotten significantly more challenging.

 

Her little infiltration had been weeks ago. Now she spent her time going from seedy establishment (like the one she just left) to seedy establishment (like the one she walked the streets towards) looking for someone with a ship, a cargo hold, and the ability to keep their mouth shut. 

 

It turns out the latter was very hard to find when the bounty on your head was more than most made in two years.

Edited by It's A Gundam MkII

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC(Roka): The pair hadn't quite lost Zale, though he didn't know that. All he knew was that he was following his... Instincts? He didn't know what to call this, but it seemed to be tied to his luck. He would turn a corner, open his eyes to see the new street, close his eyes again and just... Walk. He didn't know where he was going, but any direction was better than staying put. Maybe he'd find those guys again, or somebody who would tell him how to get back to the main streets.

 

IC(Nokon): Raine sighed and nodded, taking a step back and folding his arms. They'd be heading out soon, he needed to talk to Sarir. Nokon cleared his throat to get the smaller an's attention, speaking softly (For him). "Before we leave, we should likely speak." He rumbled, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.


"Quis custodiet ipsos custodies? Your grace."


"I know that one. 'Who watches the Watchmen?' Me, Mr. Pessimal."


"Ah, but who watches you, your grace?"


"I do that too. All the time."


 


If anyone would be interested in co-hosting a Discworld-themed RPG for OTC, please PM me!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC (Tallik Vao, Taris 'space cemetery')
 
Tallik had by now told Cylund exactly what he thought of his actions at the Cantina. This had taken a surprisingly short amount of time, because with fourteen years' worth of Cy-experience under his belt, Tal was well-practised at summarising long lists of grievances succinctly (but no less forcefully). Today, the grievances mostly revolved around the various lives Cy had taken and/or endangered with his thermal detonator: the innocent people in the cantina, some of whom might very well have died in the explosion; the mercs who Tallik had already incapacitated rather than killed; even Ashara, who had already surrendered and submitted to their demands. There were also the more pragmatic concerns of keeping a low profile on Imperial worlds, and the fact that no other cantina on Taris served quite as good a Polaris ale and it'd be a shame if the Hive had to close down.
 
They were about halfway to the small 'valley' of scrap where they'd parked the Midge when they crossed paths with a Zabrak, who looked decidedly the worse for wear, but didn't quite have the appearance of a Tarisian scavenger. In fact, he was wearing a scuffed and crumpled flight suit, and a blaster pistol was holstered at his hip—and not one of those pieces of ###### the average scavenger carried, either.
 
"Looking to get into the city, think you two could help?" the stranger called.
 
"That depends," Tal replied as he and Cy approached the Zabrak. "The question is, do you just want to get into the city, or do you want to find whatever you're after without being jumped on by the first guard patrol you meet? Because if it's the latter, you might want to get that covered up."

 

'That' was the dirtied but recognisable New Republic insignia patch on the Zabrak's shoulder.

Edited by Ghosthands

sig_panel_bzprpg.pngsig_panel_profiles.pngsig_panel_flickr.pngsig_panel_steam.pngsig_panel_n7.png


 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC: (Enaltai, Taris Lower City)

 

"It's surprisingly difficult to tell. It's like... it's like they've stopped following us, but are going the same way?"

 

And yet... another that he could sense so clearly across the Force? Did that mean..?

 

"... Maybe they're not following us after all. It might have been a false alarm."

 

His heart knew better.

 

(Cylund, Junkyard outside Taris City)

 

"And, for that matter, believe you me, mate," Cylund spoke, grinning a shitfaced grin, "the city's not the place you wanna be right now. Don't even argue, just believe it, man. What's a Republican doing here, anyway?"

Edited by Poe Dameron

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

"I don't know, kinda like the attention that it brings," he said with a shrug, addressed the twi'lek. The fact that the man carried a blade was strange enough, though the lack of any visible power supply on it was even moreso.

 

"Sightseeing, got some shore leave from the XO and decided to make the most out of it," Rav deadpanned in response to the grin that the human was expressing. The fact that they hadn't taken pot shots at him immediately was a good sign, probably. "Gave me some discretionary credits to waste on overpriced meals. If you two could get me inside the city, some could find their way to you for your trouble."


Where to Iggy?

    ˹STAR WARS: INTERREGNUM˼   ˹EXO-FORCE˼   ˹BZPRPG˼

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

"Aye, we should." Liare rocked back on his heels for a second, then turned on a dime and started past Nokon towards the rec room's entrance. He held up a hand, almost like a half wave over his shoulder, and glanced back at the Chief with a smirk. "Whatever you decide, boss, I spoke my piece. You've got my pad number, shoot me a message with the details. Objective, timing, rendezvous points, all that . Love to keep bein' the center of attention, but some of us have work to do!"

 

"We can walk and talk, Raine, we gotta track down Veyura. Figure out what the crazy one's up to and let her know we got a job."

 

IC:

 

The Lower City was full of dives, places where society's dregs gathered. Not quite the bottom of the barrel, but some of these establishments got quite close. The deeper you went, the seedier the establishments became. Outcasts, criminals, and the people who came to hire them. Those people generally worked through intermediaries. Most of them didn't want to converse with those they hired in person either out of arrogance or out of a need for anonymity. Either way, the more affluent employers did not conduct their business in person in a bar in the Lower City. It was for that reason that when she made these rounds, NT-081 was not herself; she was Rebekah, the agent of the Novatrooper NT-081 seeking to book less than legal passage off of Taris. This little ruse had many benefits, but the most direct was an implication of power on the part of her 'employer'.

 

Whether they realized it or not, implications like that greased the cogs in a lot of smugglers' minds.

 

Still, the Stray Tach wasn't too bad as far as establishments went. Inn and bar, decent clientele, and decent services. It wouldn't have the most smugglers of any bar on Taris, but places like it held the ones with the fattest wallets. And those were the ones with good records, and good customer service policies. They tended to honor their agreements. A necessity when the person 'trusting' them, to a degree at least, to smuggle oneself off-world had a substantial bounty on their head.

 

She slipped into the inn casually, striding up to the bar and slipping into a seat with her instrument case leaned up against the seat next to her. Perhaps she would find the service she needed here.


fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC(Nokon): Raine turned and followed Sarir, easily keeping pace with his long legs. "Yes, and a potentially important one at that." He agreed, looking forward to finding their last teammate. He took a moment to organize his thoughts, clenching and unclenching his fists to calm himself. "On a serious note, I wanted to mention a thing or two. I want to tell you that I'm not going to stab your back. I know what a lot of people around here think of me, that I'm power hungry and want advancement. But I respect that power, and the authority that comes with it. You're my leader on this mission, and I'll back you up.

 

"That being said, the offer I gave the Chief still stands. I grew up in Coruscant's underbelly, I know planets like this. I think it would be wise of you to listen to offered advice. On a team of three, having a lieutenant is kind of a stupid thing to do, but advice is another thing entirely. Depending on where we go down there, it could be very easy to get lost. I want to advise not letting the power of authority go to your head, and end up not listening to anyone else."

 

IC(Roka): He was getting closer, he could tell. It wasn't a feeling he could describe, but he knew his objective was close. What that objective was, Zale didn't know. All he knew was that when he closed his eyes, something guided him in a specific direction, and with a feeling of urgency. Roka rounded the next corner and opened his eyes to see the streets, only to duck back quickly as he saw a pair of men in front of a dilapidated building. It was them, the two who'd led him down here in the first place. Roka took a deep breath and pulled his vibro-knife out of his boot, tucking it up into his sleeve before peeking around again. One of them seemed nervous, glancing around a lot. The other was more calm, looked like he might have been a local. He sighed and shook his head, all he wanted was a way back up and now he'd found these two again. This should prove to be interesting...

 

Roka Zale stepped out from around the corner, slowly heading in the direction of the pair. He held his arms away from his body, trying to look unimposing as he called out. "So... What are you guys dealing? Glitterstim, death sticks, spice? Better question, this one for myself, why the #### do I care? Third question, can either of you help me back up? I'm very lost at this point."


"Quis custodiet ipsos custodies? Your grace."


"I know that one. 'Who watches the Watchmen?' Me, Mr. Pessimal."


"Ah, but who watches you, your grace?"


"I do that too. All the time."


 


If anyone would be interested in co-hosting a Discworld-themed RPG for OTC, please PM me!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC (Tallik Vao, Taris junkyard)

 

"Well, now you're talking our language," Tal replied with a smirk as he exchanged nods with Cy. "But really though, cover up your Republic colours. I think we'd all prefer to avoid any Imperial entanglements."

 

IC (Raia Veyura, ISD Insight laboratory)

 

The third member of Vespula's chosen ground team was not in the rec room with the other Inquisitors when their mission was announced. Instead, Dr Raia Veyura was in the lab, hunched over the viewing port of a compound synthesis module. Her face was obscured by the breather mask she wore (when working with the kind of substances Veyura specialised in, it was wise to take precautions), but behind the bulbous red lenses her eyes were fixed intently on her work.

 

Chemicals played an integral part in many of Veyura's activities, from interrogations to combat. Some, such as dioxis or basic truth serum, were among the standard-issue supplies used by the Inquisitorius and thus readily available to her. When she wanted more specialised substances, it fell to her to synthesise them herself, and so she could often be found in the laboratory doing exactly that.

 

Right now she was just finishing cooking up a batch of Phobia-4 (a potent fear-inducing hallucinogen of her own design). Straightening up from the viewing port, she walked over to the module's output hatch and watched with satisfaction as the first of twelve vials of pale yellow-green liquid came trundling out on a conveyor belt. As the others followed one by one, she picked up the first with one alabaster-skinned hand and pulled off her breather mask to inspect the vial's contents by eye. Satisfied, she tucked the it and two others into loops on her belt, and placed the rest in her personal storage locker.

 

The hiss of a nearby door's hydraulics announced the arrival of a protocol droid.

 

"What is it, JD3-RA-7?" Veyura asked as it entered.

 

"A message from Recreation Room A, Inquisitor," the droid replied. "Chief Inquisitor Vespula has assigned you to the ground team for her mission on Taris. You will be working with Inquisitors Liare and Raine. It is recommended that you rendezvous with them immediately."

 

In an instant, Veyura matched names to faces to psychological profiles, and gave the droid a nod.

 

"Thank you, JD3. Tell me, which Inquisitor sent this message?"

 

The droid was silent for a moment, twitching its head slightly as the RA-7 models were known to when processing unexpected requests.

 

"No Inquisitor sent it, ma'am," it explained hesitantly. "MSE-6-B456G was passing through the room when the announcement was made, and elected to deliver this message of his own accord."

 

Veyura raised an eyebrow.

 

"That's an unusual level of independent thought for a mouse droid," she observed.

 

"...He thought you ought to be informed, ma'am," JD3 explained, somewhat nervously.

 

"I see. In that case, please thank B456G for its initiative."

 

"Yes, Inquis—"

 

"—And instruct it to report to Maintenance for a memory wipe."

 

"...yes, Inquisitor."

 

The protocol droid gave Veyura a stiff bow, before clattering away down the corridor. The Inquisitor followed soon after, having removed her white lab coat and donned her black armorweave one, and headed in the direction of the rec rooms in search of her colleagues.

Edited by Ghosthands

sig_panel_bzprpg.pngsig_panel_profiles.pngsig_panel_flickr.pngsig_panel_steam.pngsig_panel_n7.png


 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC: Rex (Taris, Lower City)

 

'Whaaa... Dealing? How- what- oh just great.' Rex inwardly groaned.

 

Outwardly though, he just gave a heavy sigh. "Okay, for starters, we aren't dealing anything, so if you followed us for that, you're out of luck. Next, that's your question to answer, and finally, go back the way you came and wander around, you'll make your way back up eventually... I think." Then he narrowed his eyes. He was getting some strange vibes from this person, nothing dangerous, but still... strange. "But while you're here, why did you follow us?" There was an edge to Rex's voice which hadn't been there previously, hinting at trouble if he didn't like the answer.

Edited by sonyaxe

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

[Sue, The Stray Tach, Lower Reaches]

Sue grabbed the translator droid and manually turned its volume down, before speaking again.

“If the rumors about the nearby imperial fleet are true, you could be right,” the robot translated as Sue turned her attention to the scruffy human of impressive height that had just entered the bar. “Though that’s not something I would advise sticking around for.”

Edited by Mel

[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - LuciraMorie - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed

Clan Plangori - Clan Kuychar
I got that string theory--it doesn't work to push, you gotta pull.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

"Raine, I let a lot of things get to my head. Power's not generally one of 'em. Now, Corellian liquor, there's a story. Ended with the boss fighting an assassin in a club, but that is a different matter." Sarir commented cheerfully, stepping out of the rec room and into the hall without an apparent care in the world. "But I get the sentiment. I'm happy to listen, but I'm pretty familiar with metropolitan undergrounds. Easiest place to hide from our dear Inquisitor comrades, and I spent a good few teenage years doing just that."

"Veyura's the one I'm gonna want to keep an eye on. Don't get me wrong I don't mind 'em older, or crazier for that matter, but I get a little unsettled when they're an all-but-disbarred psychiatrist that likes poisoning ######."

 

IC:

 

"Something non-alcoholic to drink, please. And something fried to eat." The former Novatrooper 'intermediary' said, enunciating with military precision her request after raising a hand to politely get the bartender's attention. "I am not particularly fussy as to the exact nature of either."

Edited by It's A Gundam MkII

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC: Zale

 

Roka laughed awkwardly, crossing his arms and grinning at the young man. "You know that is a fantastic &@()()@#^ question! Secondly, I tried the wandering around thing to get out of here and that's how I found you again! Actually lost you for awhile back there. As for why I started, I have no good answer for that. My gut told me to. Looked like you were dealing something, and caught my interest. Not really sure why, I don't touch the stuff. Doesn't do much for me, you know?" He said, reaching up and motioning to his barely-visible antennae. He sighed and shook his head. "Look, I don't know why I'm here. I had a prior engagement that I probably missed by now, but something told me I had to follow you. Then I lost you, closed my eyes and wandered around, and... Saw you here. I'm as confused as you are."

 

IC: Raine

 

Nokon smiled halfheartedly at his seemingly happy-go-lucky companion. He nodded at the mention of ducking Inquisitors and chuckled. "Oh, I know what that's like too. Spent most of my life doing that, till certain extenuating circumstances forced my hand... And now I'm here. I'll watch your back, Sarir, even if you've got better things to do than watch mine. And when we come back successful, I might be able to track down some Corellian wine to split between the four of us. Or maybe three, I don't know that I'd trust Veyura either, especially around my drinks."

 

He walked in silence for a moment before his brow furrowed in question. "By the way, what the #@^% is it with Dark users and masks? There are a LOT of Dark users that have them, way more than it seems is necessary."


"Quis custodiet ipsos custodies? Your grace."


"I know that one. 'Who watches the Watchmen?' Me, Mr. Pessimal."


"Ah, but who watches you, your grace?"


"I do that too. All the time."


 


If anyone would be interested in co-hosting a Discworld-themed RPG for OTC, please PM me!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC (Raia Veyura, ISD Insight)

 

"The answer is fear, Mr Raine."

 

Veyura's voice cut into the conversation as she approached. Sarir and Raine had no way of know quite how much she had overheard, but her knowing smile suggested it was more than either of them would have intended.

 

"Masks may have mundane purposes, as means of protection or survival," she continued, "but that's not why Darksiders favour them.

 

"Fear of the unknown is one of the mind's most primal impulses. If you conceal your face, your identity, your humanity, you can make yourself that unknown. You can prey on that fear, and become more than mere flesh and blood in the mind of your enemy: a demonic force, a thing of horror."

 

Veyura smiled again.

 

"I think that's a power worth wielding," she said. "Don't you?"

Edited by Ghosthands

sig_panel_bzprpg.pngsig_panel_profiles.pngsig_panel_flickr.pngsig_panel_steam.pngsig_panel_n7.png


 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

"I think so too. It's the kind of power that makes you have to wonder which part of your opponent will break first... Their back or their spirit." The medically-oriented Inquisitor replied seriously, only the faintest of gleeful glints in his eyes belying anything but sincerity. "But, pardon me for disagreeing, but it's my considered medical opinion that the majority of Darksiders with masks has more to do with how the Dark Side tends to make them ugly."

"Then again, you're the one with a doctorate." Liare allowed, finally, the faintest hints of a grin to break through the serious facade. He reached up (a feat, honestly, given that Liare wasn't short. Raine was a giant) and clapped a hand on the larger Inquisitor's shoulder, shaking it briefly without looking away from Veyura. His free hand was used to indicate the two of them, and then Veyura herself in turn. "Don't worry, Raine, I'm pretty good at watching back. Anyway, Nokon and I came to tell you we're up for a mission."

"Which, given the dramatic entrance, I'm gonna guess you already know."


fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC: (Nokon)

 

Raine stiffened as the third member of their party appeared, clasping his hands behind his back. He wasn't afraid of her, per se, but something about her presence and her poison-laced words was... Unsettling. He set his face in stone, not betraying any emotion as he responded to the woman; "I think... Hiding behind a mask, making yourself an 'unknown' as you put it, to give yourself the edge of fear... Is cheap power. Power, true power, comes from within. Yourself and what you do, that is where you inspire fear from. And if you can't do that... Well, maybe you need the mask." He replied with a wry smile, before looking back to Sarir.

 

"Though I do hope that is indeed the reason, using that 'fear'. Otherwise that puts all our features at risk, and well... I just can't lose this." He said, motioning to his face. "This... This is the moneymaker, I need this!" He chuckled, finally letting a genuine smile break across his face. "But anyway, we likely should pay attention to the mission. Gear up and get some details, I would assume? Where to, Liare?"


"Quis custodiet ipsos custodies? Your grace."


"I know that one. 'Who watches the Watchmen?' Me, Mr. Pessimal."


"Ah, but who watches you, your grace?"


"I do that too. All the time."


 


If anyone would be interested in co-hosting a Discworld-themed RPG for OTC, please PM me!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

"The Imps really aren't into the new colors, we even made it more interesting to look at and everything," Rav sighed with more than a fair bit of sarcastic disappointment. Good, they two of them weren't any sort of friends of the Empire. It made things a lot less tense than working with those that had to keep appearances up with the local Imperials, even if Endor had helped them much more than they thought in that regard. He had planned on dumping the not-so-anonymous flight suit before he reached the city; close enough to keep his civvies clear of the muck and not look like he'd been fumbling through the swamp for the better part of the day. Though seeing as his two new acquaintances hadn't taken the same precaution...

 

"What about you two? Come to take advantage of all that Taris has to offer?"

 

IC: Jenth [The Stray Tach]

 

With an indignant sound, a slight form pushed it's way through the throngs of "off work early" and "nothing better to do" mass of both humanoid (and some non-humanoid) that had collected as per usual in The Stray Tach. Well, Jenth didn't so much push as be pushed and eventual resort to simply slipping through spaces in between to make her way to the bar proper. She slid into an empty seat next to a tallish human woman, who honestly looked like she would be better suited cleaning her teeth with a vibroblade in a bar a few levels down. Which, Jenth absently considered, was probably why the seat was empty. Huh.

 

"Hi Sue," the mechanic chirped, giving a small wave up towards said Wookiee, who was easily twice her size and then some."I need something to kill this headache and solve my problems."

 

"...Though I'll settle for just the headache and able to keep me up for the next eight hours."


Where to Iggy?

    ˹STAR WARS: INTERREGNUM˼   ˹EXO-FORCE˼   ˹BZPRPG˼

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC (Vanndred, Taris Spaceport Medclinic):

 

As he toweled off the last of the bacta from his latest treatment, Vanndred's mind inevitably drifted to how he would pay for his next treatment. This one was covered, but he didn't have have enough credits to his name for another one. He had enough for food, rent, necessities... well, maybe not the second one, but he might be able to talk his way around it.

 

His snout immediately turned to the door when it started opening; it was the MD-series medical droid that covered his visits, carrying a tray with folded clothes. "Your belongings, sir."

 

Chistori had trouble smiling like other species with their hinged jaw, so Vanndred nodded. "Thanks. Just leave them here, I'll get them," he replied in a deep voice, almost a growl. When the droid left, he started getting dressed. He started with his pants before rifling through the folded pile, getting increasingly agitated. The almost two-meter saurian jabbed the door controls, pushing the door open when he deemed it too slow. "Emdee! My blaster and holster, where are they?"

 

Had his past caught up with him? He knew he had brought in twenty-three bounties on suspected rebels, all of which were found guilty or were brought in dead. Of those, seventeen were members of rebel cells, and he had confirmed that nine of those still had living members when Vanndred claimed the bounties. If this was revenge, why not poison the bacta, or plant a bomb in the house? Or, frag it, if they wanted a more personal touch, why not just blast him to oblivion when he was dangling in the bacta tank?

 

Vanndred bared his teeth reflexively when he saw movement; the medical droid walking into the hallway, his Hunter Elite in its holster dangling from the droid's gripper. "I'm sorry, sir, new clinic policy. All weapons have to be checked for patients." As the droid handed it over, Vanndred grabbed it and immediately started strapping the holster into its proper place on his leg. A bit sloppy, he would adjust it before leaving.

 

"Well, a heads-up would be appreciated in the future. I already payed for this treatment, so... that will be all." Vanndred quickly started walking back to his room. It was too blasted cold in here.

 

"Clients carrying weapons inside the clinic premises is also against policy..."

 

"Then file a complaint on my behalf." The retired hunter disappeared into the changing room.

 

Five minutes later Vanndred, fully clothed and with his blaster in a comfortable quick-draw position, strode out of the Taris clinic. He needed to relax, this kind of stress was unhealthy. Or at least that was what the docs told him. He cursed himself in his native tongue for his reactions earlier; if it had been a trap, he could have been instantly gunned down, all whilst he loudly shouted his lack of weapon. He needed to cool off. Well, figuratively, literally he needed to warm up. Maybe some food at The Stray Tach. He slouched a little to bely his build as he made his way into the bar. Sue was speaking to someone already; looked kinda busy tonight. He went to his usual spot, a smallish booth just large enough for him. Currently it was occupied by Duros and a Sullustan, both what looked like spacers. Now, scowling was something the Chistori did rather well, and Vanndred exhibited his species' talent for it as the two looked up at him.

 

"I'm a regular. Take it up with Sue if you don't like it."

 

It appeared this convinced the two, and they did not care to take it up with Sue. A slight feeling of satisfaction came over the retired hunter as he sat down at his booth, and pulled up the menu. He breezed past the various drinks; first thing he had learned was that alcohol accelerated the virus he had, constricting his veins. No specialty drinks for him, even though Vanndred had passed Sue a traditional Chistori rotgut for completeness' sake a few years ago when he started coming. Nope, just meiloorun juice for him. And something hot... he wanted meat. Nerf kebabs. Cheap, and didn't require him to drop the food into his mouth or try not to mangle any utensils. After Vanndred submitted his order, he sat back, taking in the music and patrons of The Stray Tach.

Edited by Keeper of Kraata

BZPRPG Profiles


TOA KALTA: Casanuva Vakua Kalyss Skorm Zueya Aelied Cyrix


OTHERS: Denrika Fyura Raiyo Aokora Maeloc Askha Somei Sydelia


"They belong in a museum!"


"So do you!"

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

Much was made in the old propaganda vids about those who dwelled in the insides of Lambda- class shuttles - those chosen few officers and dignitaries who merited transport that was not so much transport as transport, lounge, situation room, or fallout shelter as the need arose. On a holoscreen, these men were always human, in cut uniforms and with stern glances. They would be talking fervently amongst themselves or pensively glancing out into the farthest reaches of Imperial space.

 

So perhaps it was the clearest sign of the Inquistorius' divorce from the Empire that the Lambda leaving the Insight was currently playing host not to a noble Imperial admiral or Sith Lord, but a half-clothed (by any decent societal standard) Zeltron wriggling in her seat as though the leather was tickling at her bare magenta skin. She was currently sitting upside down, hair just short of brushing the floor, with her legs spread; one was stretched out, tiptoes trying to touch the ceiling of the shuttle, and the other was crooked over the top of her seat at the knee. Her lightsaber was dangling from her belt, parallel to her ribs; there was a holocomm unit trying to balance itself in her belly button, playing music that wouldn't have sounded out of place in a pleasure house on Zeltros. 

 

These things blew.

 

If she got bored and called Sarir, he would never let her live it down.

 

Human .

 

He wasn't giving the sitrep like she'd wanted him to.

 

She'd need to remind him.

 

Of the mission.

 

That .

 

"Sarir, Vespula here. Is your team together?"

 

IC:
 
Much was made in the old propaganda vids about those who dwelled in the insides of Lambda- class shuttles - those chosen few officers and dignitaries who merited transport that was not so much transport as transport, lounge, situation room, or fallout shelter as the need arose. On a holoscreen, these men were always human, in cut uniforms and with stern glances. They would be talking fervently amongst themselves or pensively glancing out into the farthest reaches of Imperial space.
 
So perhaps it was the clearest sign of the Empire's fragmentation that the Lambda leaving the Aldera was currently playing host not to a noble Imperial admiral or Sith Lord, but a delinquent pilot who had his feet kicked up on the seat across from him, watching the scarred cityscape of Taris grow closer from the viewport. The head of a mongrel mercenary captain was lolling about in his lap, relishing in the attention his fingers paid her hair.
 
Spoiled skank.
 
"Our contact is going to be in the Lower City," Reo told her. "We can get our money, buy somewhere nice in the Upper City for a night, and leave tomorrow. Then...regrettably... looks like it's your turn to pick a job."
 
Reo's jobs were always nice and safe. Ex-Imperial contacts, some mild blockade running, maybe carrying refugees around. Skri loved that maniacal . With the booms and the bangs and the things that gave Reo migraines and R5 circuit shortages, and ended with more Mandalorian helmets welded to his captain's bedposts.
 
He could have been an admiral someday.
 
IC:
 
"NT-081, report in."
 
The voice did not come from a Lambda-class shuttle, or from any ex-pilot, or from anything with Zeltron blood. It was echoing inside a discarded helmet.
 
"NT-081, this is Dana. Your handpicked mission coordinator. Please report in."
 
...
 
Tinny hold music began to echo from the helmet's comms.
 
-Tyler
  • Upvote 2

whats up doc

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

"Bossss!" Liare stretched the word out cheerily, casually brushing aside the hair (day three past regulation length, they still do not suspect) obstructing the controls for his earpiece, then upped the volume a little to hear the Zeltron Chief Inquisitor a little easier. By his estimate, her shuttle should've barely left yet. And they still had over an hour before Costa's orders would've let them board their own shuttle to get down to the planet's surface which, by the way, still chafed. Like a weight locked on his ankle. He hated to be slowed down when there was play to be had work to be done.  Orders were orders, especially when it came to the people who controlled the hangar, though. "The two bright, cheerful faces next to me indicate 'yes'. We were just having a riveting conversation about why Dark Siders always seem to wear masks."

"Not that you'd know about that, boss." Unseen by the Zeltron on the other end, the Inquisitor rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms. "Gotta gear up, but after that we're just waiting out the clock. I've got some fascinating talkers here, Vespula."

 

IC:

 

"Yeah. Imp world like Taris, bound to be some good ones." The Aldera's captain seemed (because she was) entirely unconcerned by the process of their arrival. She delegated the task of overseeing and ensuring their safe arrival to her XO, instead enjoying the brief period of quiet before she'd have to put on that stupid uniform and pretend to be an officer.

She hated it almost as much as she found it amusing. Easiest way past any check points, especially when you arrived in an Imp shuttle. Backwater place like this, the ship, the uniforms, and the right bearing were pretty much all you needed to bluff your way past the customs and arrival guards. It was always pretty funny, walking away with the guards none the wiser. Stow the uniform once you were through, and put it back on when you left. Pretty useful trick.

 

Didn't mean she enjoyed having to act like an Imperial Officer.


fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

"Oh, well that's easy," the irreverent reply crackled from the comm. "It's cause we have this huge rogue lightsaber problem the light side always seems to miss out on. Anakin Skywalker? Man could ride me like a tauntaun. Carves his way through hundreds of thousands of battle droids through the Clone Wars looking sweeter than any drink on Zeltros. So if he was Darth Vader, it means that the dark side somehow turned him into a haughty, testicle-headed ghoul. Then you got Darth Malgus, Darth Tenebrous, Darth Malak...the dark side just hates faces, Sarir. Never let anyone tell you more complicated than that."

 

IC:

 

"Hard to believe a dump like this is even still part of the galaxy. Wonder how fast news even travels."

 

-Tyler

  • Upvote 1

whats up doc

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

"If you have detailed historical evidence on what Revan looked like, by all means, Veyura. How's the experiment that goes bump in the night going for you this week?"

 

-Tyler


whats up doc

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC (Tallik Vao, Taris junkyard)

 

"That being seedy bars and two-faced employers, yeah," Tallik replied. "Not that we didn't know that already. Cy and I grew up on this rock."

 

IC (Raia Veyura, ISD Insight)

 

"So nice of you to ask, Chief. I'm pleased to say it's going very well. Here's hoping our mission will give me a chance to field-test the formula."


sig_panel_bzprpg.pngsig_panel_profiles.pngsig_panel_flickr.pngsig_panel_steam.pngsig_panel_n7.png


 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

[Sue, The Stray Tach, Lower Reaches]


Sue snarled at the diminutive Arkanian, but there was just enough warmth in her voice to convey lack of malice.  That was if the mechanic had enough sense about her to be afraid of anything.


“Been drinking cheap caf again, have you?” TK translated, as Sue transfered some cripixes to a plate and set them in front of the tall human woman.   This was soon followed by a dewflower seltzer with three blocks of sparkling ice in it.  The women didn’t look like the type to appreciate small talk, so Sue stayed quiet as she got to worth on Jenth’s drink.

It was a cocktail of Sue’s invention, the base being iced shig (most of her mandalorian customers complained about such sacrilege before they tasted it).  To it she added a splash of lum, and just a drop of Arkanian sweet milk--to cut the soapy flavor.  The true finishing of course, was the spice (all legal of course, Sue’s days of handling glitterstim were over).  Rhyll and andris were the main ingredients, but Sue also included a pinch of giggledust, sweetspice, and a few lesser know medical spices.  The key was to balance the stimulants with the painkillers to give the drinker a “squeeky clean” feeling--alert but not frantic.  That was why the cocktail came to be known as The Scrubber.  It was very popular around early morning when enthusiastic drinkers began to regret their choices.

 

Sue had made the drink so many times that she hardly had to pay attention as she mixed it, giving is a good shake before smoothly dumping it in a glass in front of Jenth.

Edited by Mel

[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - LuciraMorie - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed

Clan Plangori - Clan Kuychar
I got that string theory--it doesn't work to push, you gotta pull.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

Six to five odds are on rahkghoul Sarir.

 

"Good to hear. I should be planetside within the hour. Wait for me to make contact with the Imperial garrison on the Upper City and then take the shuttle down."

 

-Tyler

Edited by Costa Vespula

whats up doc

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

"We're eagerly twiddling our thumbs in anticipation, boss."

IC:

 

"Fast enough for there to be a nice, divisive network of subversives, criminals, and people who need something shot." A pause. "Good for business. If that Imp brain couldn't figure it out."

 

IC:

 

"Thank you." Rebekah said to the wookie quietly, sipping her drink and nodding in the bartender's direction. The diminutive Arkanian didn't pass beneath her notice (though for the person in question, that may have been a first) but the human woman didn't find anything particularly concerning about her. Her cursory evaluation was done in an instant, then her eyes returned to her food. The smaller being's proximity wasn't ideal, but she was't much of a threat. Nor did she seem to be the type.

 

The arrival of the reptilian being off to her right, who reclaimed his booth, wasn't lost on her either. These were only two of the events that she observed (situational awareness was key, especially with her current status) but they were the only two that seemed to warrant much comment. Well, actually, there was one more oddity. It almost seemed like sound was coming from her case... Still, she had work to do. Time to multitask.

 

"You wouldn't, by any chance," She spoke up again, after another sip of her seltzer and a bite of her food. The turning of her attention to the bartender was the only real indication of who she was addressing. "Know whom I might want to speak to about hiring a sip, would you?"

 

She casually fished a generic (in other words, cheap) earpiece out of her pocket and popped it into her right ear. Left being where Sue was, right therefore being less critical to hearing the wookie's (or rather, her translator droid's) response. It only took a second to key it into her suit's frequency, and hear...

... Music?


fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

An eye roll.

 

"Vespula out."

 

IC:

 

"It's doing just fine."

 

IC:

 

"Hello NT-081. This is Dana, your personal mission coordinator. Please report in."

 

A beat.

 

The music stopped.

 

"It is very dark in here."

 

-Tyler

Edited by Costa Vespula

whats up doc

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC (Vanndred, The Stray Tach):

 

The retired bounty hunter put one arm up as he leaned back, one arm resting at his side, as he examined the notables in the bar. Sue was now talking to that little Arkanian, Jenth. He'd seen her before around the bar, another regular, talked once or twice. Maybe he'd get her to run some repairs on his armor someday, when he had the credits to pay. Before Sue had been talking to a human Vanndred hadn't seen here before. Many inhabitants of Taris packed a blaster; not many packed a matched pair; despite that, he didn't look like some merc. Not much like a spacer, either.

 

It was one of the others at the bar, the tall black-haired human female with the instrument case, that drew his attention the most, over the general din. Her entire wardrobe seemed hand-picked to seem shabby enough for your gaze to just skip to the next interesting sight, but Vanndred used to be a bounty hunter. That hunter's eye never quite goes away; the slight movements of her head combined with her position at the bar was so she could see almost everyone in the cantina. That was of course why this booth was Vanndred's favorite. The specs made it so a small turn of her head was a look halfway across the room. Then, there was her size and build; probably wasn't a street musician. Vanndred's gues was that she was either looking for something or on the run.


BZPRPG Profiles


TOA KALTA: Casanuva Vakua Kalyss Skorm Zueya Aelied Cyrix


OTHERS: Denrika Fyura Raiyo Aokora Maeloc Askha Somei Sydelia


"They belong in a museum!"


"So do you!"

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

"So bored."

IC:

"Great. Hate to have to keep translating."


IC:

 

"I think you have a wrong number." Rebekah said into the earpiece, under her breath, giving Sue an apologetic smile. 'Not important' she mouthed, and gestured for the bartender to continue undeterred when she had a free moment. Under the surface, however, her fight or flight instinct was kicking in. It was an Imperial frequency, and no one was going to get into the band without the right encryption. It was how the Empire secured its ground communications. This 'Dana' was transmitting on an Imperial frequency, and she knew her operating number.

Which meant, more than likely, the Empire knew where she was.

 

Her eyes panned the room again in subtle, efficient movements; movements that searched for anyone who looked out of place. Like maybe they were not, in fact, a Lower City citizen looking for a drink and might instead be an operative tasked with taking in the Empire's most third most wanted. She'd been bumped down the list, after all. 

 

One person stood out. The Chistori, the one she'd noted earlier, was definitely watching her. You learned to spot the signs, spot intent as best you could. Part of being a Novatrooper. And this one was definitely observing her. Well, she hadn't necessarily expected a slow, easy day.


fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC:

 

"I would not react, Rebekah."

 

The voice was calm, patient, and concise. Almost robotic in its soft cadence, yet there was something human - possible to simulate, but human - about the lazy tone of the words. As though she already knew what the Novatrooper would reach, and was allowing her to deduce for herself.

 

"The earpiece makes things easier, thank you very much. Whoever you're currently talking to, finish up. Given the outfit you adorned, you are most likely disguising yourself as your own middleman. Smart for most. But you are very striking. Listen carefully. Your apartment is now controlled by two squads of Imperial commandos. What you have on your back - and in that case - are now your sole possessions on this planet. If you want to regain the upper hand, I can help you, but I am operating blind without your armor. You must do exactly as I say."

 

A beat.

 

"Trust me."

 

"I have a doctorate."

 

-Tyler

Edited by Costa Vespula
  • Upvote 1

whats up doc

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

IC (Raia Veyura, ISD Insight)

 

"Short attention span, Sarir? I could prescribe you something for that. I'm sure I've got some rancor tranquilliser lying around somewhere."


sig_panel_bzprpg.pngsig_panel_profiles.pngsig_panel_flickr.pngsig_panel_steam.pngsig_panel_n7.png


 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

Loading...

×
×
  • Create New...