Jump to content

Star Wars: Interregnum


sunflower
 Share

Recommended Posts

IC:

"Thanks, doc, but no thanks. Attention span's fine, it's the lack of stimulus that gets me. Only so many times I can mess around with the same group of people til I get bored. Some fresh air's exactly what the doctor ordered."

A pause.

"Not you. Figure of speech."

 

IC:

"Most of the people I've trusted had a lot less." The Novatrooper's tone stayed conversational, and she was picking her words carefully to avoid attracting too much attention, but nothing she heard was doing anything to mitigate her wariness. The opposite, really. "I don't give this channel out. Anyone who got their hands on it isn't someone I want to talk to."

"And that outfit isn't exactly inconspicuous. You want to help, miss? Point me in the direction of a way off this rock."

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

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC (Vanndred, The Stray Tach):

 

Vanndred looked down as his stomach rumbled. Might as well stop waiting. The former bounty hunter slipped out of his booth and maneuvered his way to the bar. The only free(ish) space was on the other side of the large woman, taken up by her instrument case. How inconsiderate. Vanndred leaned on the space around it.

 

"Hey Sue, I'd like a nonalchoholic fruit juice and an order of nerf kebabs. I'm in the mood for something hot tonight."

 

As he had walked up, Vanndred had pulled out one of his credit chits to cover the meal. The other hand stayed near his hip.

The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

[Sue, The Stray Tach, Lower Reaches]


“I got you order before, sorry,” TK said, as Sue made an embarrassed chuffing sound, neatly swiping a glass from the shelf and filling it with cold blue milk from the bar’s fizz gun.  The chitori understood her without a need for the droid, but it wasn't like she could turn it off.
 

“The kabobs will be out in less than a minute.”

Sue’s eyes flicked for just a millisecond between the tall human and the chistori.  The wookiee had seen enough people pass through the bar to realize that the human’s need to get off the planet might be rather--sensitive.  Neither had Vandred’s sudden interest in her passed beneath the bartender’s notice.

 

“I think Meinha over there might be able to help you with that,” TK said, as Sue extended a hand, pointing at a Mon-Calamar currently in the middle of a casual game of Sabacc with her table mates.  “She’s partial to salted tarisian ale with a shot of xinphar.”

The wookie’s wink was so fast that the human might of missed it, but Sue doubted it.  She looked like she noticed things.

Edited by Mel

There's a dozen selves inside you, trying to be the one to run the dials

[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - Lucira - FerellisMorie - Fanai - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed - Pradhai - Ipsudir

And some aren't even on your side.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

OOC: I actually edited his order to be fruit juice; realized that as a reptile, he couldn't really drink milk... and I don't want to think about it too much.

 

IC (Vanndred, The Stray Tach):

 

Vanndred attempted to smile as he grabbed the drink along with a straw, pushing over a credit chit as he did so. "Thanks, Sue."

The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC:

"Ooof, this is going to be a long mission after all. Retract the claws, please."

 

IC:

 

"I appreciate that... Sue, right?" The renegade trooper inquired casually. Remarkably casually, given that the Chistori's presence had managed to focus ninety five percent of her attention onto a spot a much smaller distance to her right than she would like. The reptilian being was stationed in a way that prevented easy access to her case; something that might have been an accident, given the relative lack of space at the bar, but that wasn't an assumption she was willing to bet her life on. He'd been watching her, earlier, and the voice in her ear (yet another entity she had yet to trust, when it rains it pours) had warned her of Imperial troops taking up occupation in her apartment. The Empire wasn't above using bounty hunters, especially now, and the Chistori had the right look to be one.

Despite maintaining her outwardly friendly appearance she was busy running through her options. She couldn't get to her case, and an E-11 wasn't suitable for a place like this anyway. Not precise enough, and more importantly, too easily recognized. Her heavier handheld weapon was in her bag; she could get to it, but such a motion would be easily noticed and if he was after her he'd be looking for it. She had the grenades up her sleeves, but she didn't want to cause too much of a scene. Flashbang would be good, but wouldn't give her enough time to get her chance. And if the potential bounty hunter started firing, civilian casualties were as likely as if he had used a thermal detonator. 

 

The vibroblade under her arm would be easy to get to, but his hide looked pretty durable. Not something she felt like risking. Which just left the smaller blaster on her hip. Tucked under her jacket, thankfully, so no one would see it. If it came down to it, her body glove would probably save her from any immediately lethal wounds. Enough to get her out of there, at least. She sipped her drink again, letting her unused hand drop down into her lap. The picture of relaxation. And it moved it closer to her weapon, too.

"Sorry to continue to bother you, Ms. Sue," She began again, smiling. "But before I make a fool of myself... About how scrupulous is this Meinha about the cargo she carries? The person I represent isn't much of a danger, but for... Political reasons, they have reason to fear that a civic-minded citizen or an honor-less one might turn them over to the authorities in exchange for a reward."

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

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC (Vanndred, The Stray Tach):

 

Noticing the way the woman was eyeing him leaning over the instrument case, Vanndred picked up his drink and stepped back from the counter. "Sorry, miss," he said before taking a sip of his drink.

 

From this side, he saw that the woman was packing; Vanndred's eye-ridges went up, he nearly swallowed his drink's straw, and his free hand twitched a little bit towards his own blaster when he saw there was an annihilator super-heavy pistol at her side. If it was factory-fresh it had almost the same specs as his highly modified and tuned Hunter Elite. If she was packing firepower like that, she really was either a hunter looking to collect or somebody serious on the run. If her question to Sue meant anything, she was the former.

The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sen Fahl- The Stray Tach

 

IC: While all this had been going on Sen had been quietly sitting on the other side of the heavily armed and rightfully paranoid woman. Quietly sipping away at the kri'gee in front of him as he seemed to think over what the wookie bartender had said.

 

In reality he had enhanced his listening and tuned out most of the drone from the bar to the point of being able to make out both sides of the earbud commlink. It was not exactly a polite thing to do but hey, he needed something to take his mind off the constant feeling that something was about to happen. Omnipresent energy field thing or not it could learn to turn it down a notch.

 

Judging from what he could guess about the woman's skill and the paranoia that poured off of her it would hardly have surprised the Mandalorian if she noticed him at some point. At which point chances were about fifty fifty that some sort of retreat would be made.

 

Staring at where one of the overhead lights were reflected in his drink Sent wondered if he should follow her if that happened. This was Taris, it took a certain level of importance for the local Imperials to go so far as to try and ambush a person at their apartment. This woman might have something to do with the warning constantly being blared in his metaphorical ear.

 

Its not like he had much else to do.

"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

zsUPm2E.jpg?1

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC:

######.

 

Not the most eloquent way to express the emotions running through the Novatrooper's mind, but perhaps the most accurate. She could see the exact moment that the Chistori noted the weapon that had, before now, been carefully concealed by her jacket, and the moment after that when he started sizing said weapon up. It was at exactly that same moment that her mind went into overdrive. Her breathing slowed, and while she kept the friendly smile on her face, it was no longer completely matched by her eyes; eyes that were, along with the rest of her senses, spreading out again to give her as complete an analysis of the situation as she could get.

Which was, coincidentally, the exact same moment that she noted many of the same telltale signs in the man two seats down, past the Arkanian. Surrounded? Possibly. Innocents? Possibly. Either way, the situation was untenable. She needed to leave. The noose was tightening around her. Highly inconvenient. Dangerously so. This 'Meinha' was the first lead she'd had on a suitable transport ship in days, after her first option tried to double cross her. And if the commandos were already at her apartment, she was rapidly running out of time.

But first thing's first, she needed to extricate herself from the situation.

 

Her right hand was occupied with staying near her blaster, and the case, unfortunately, was on her right. She wouldn't leave without it, if she did she might as well give up and turn herself in now. She'd be just as dead if she tried to stay on the run with only what was on her person. That meant nudging it closer to her with her right foot (difficult, given that it heavier than it looked and she couldn't just let it drop to the floor) and twisting her body slightly, both turning her to face the immediate potential assailant, and letting her reach for the case's handle with her left hand.

"Do we have a problem, gentlemen?" She didn't know either of their names, but if they were who she thought they were (or even if they weren't, both were paying close attention) they'd know who she meant. "If so, I would rather skip the formalities. If not, then I'll pay for your next round, apologize for any inconvenience, and be on my way. Either to speak with this Meinha, or out that door where I will never see either of you again."

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

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sen Fahl- The Stray Tach

 

IC: See? See? Every. Single. Time. You don't even so much as twitch in the person's direction and they can tell that you were paying attention to them.

 

Sen had no idea how people without even a hint of the Force could tell that one bar patron who planned to sell them to the Imperials or whatever. Even when they were paid no more or less attention than from anybody else. There had to be some super obvious trick to it if how often it happened was any thing to go off of.

 

Regardless she had(somehow) noticed him listening in and was on the verge of retreating/opening fire. There were several different ways this could go. The lizard guy would probably back off a bit, try to smooth talk his way through the situation. May or may not end up fumbling, thinking that his skills were better then they actually were. Probably end up starting some tense mini debate, may or may not end up with shooting. Sen had very few clues as to the (probably) bounty hunter's actual goal.

 

Best to head it off and try to diffuse the situation himself.

 

Keeping his hands wrapped around the glass in front of him the young man simply turned his head to look at the Novatrooper.

 

"Trouble? No. Although I do admit to being curious about why you look like you expect a hit team to kick in the bar door any minute now."

 

Please say that there are no hit teams about to kick the door down.

Edited by Silvan Haven

"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

zsUPm2E.jpg?1

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC: Jenth

 

As clouded as her head was right now, what with the steel spike of pain being driven through her skull, it didn't take a mystic to recognize what was going down to her right. Given the fact that the air between the human and Large Lizard Man (Vann-something or another) suddenly solidified to the point where one could have sliced through it with a vibroblade, Jenth did the sensible thing.

 

And backed the #### away.

 

She slipped out of the seat somewhat awkwardly, clutching Sue's miracle working drink as a lifeline. Best case scenario this was how the human greeted new people on her homeworld, worst case... Well Sue might end up popping some limbs out of place and Imps would come crawling out of their garrison at the sound of blasterfire.

 

Either way, Jenth took up a strategic position at the nearest table. And she liked the Tach cause she never had to bring a blaster, great.

 

IC: Rav

 

"My condolences."

 

Now that was helpful. Hopefully it meant they'd know their way around, if they didn't, understandably, ditch this planet as soon as possible back when.

 

"Now, I've seen enough holovids to know that staying out in the junkyard overnight always leads to crazy mutant rancors, so I'd like to get moving."

mnogsignature.png

BZPRPG -

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sen Fahl- The Stray Tach

 

IC: And then the lizard guy dropped his hand to his side, ya know, nearby that nice big blaster of his.

 

Do you want to start a firefight in here?

 

Sen glanced over at Sue for a moment before fixing his gaze on the large bounty hunter.

"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

zsUPm2E.jpg?1

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

[Sue, The Stray Tach, Lower Reaches]


Sue has, considering, been in more tense and life-threatening situations before.  Plenty of them.  But none of them had been in her bar, which had a never had a shootout in the five years she had been there.  Five or six brawls, sure, but a blaster had never been drawn.

The wookiee’s growl was low and strangely soft, closer to a purr, and as it modulated it seemed to wash over the small group at the bar like warm honey.  The adrenaline that had been flooding their veins seemed to slow, and breaths evened out.  There were still eyes flicking around in suspicion, but the edge had been taken off.  The robot’s translation seemed like an afterthought.


“Now, I’m sure we can all calm down and talk this out like reasonable people.  As to your question, Meinha is discriminating so far as she expects her customers to pay her and keep reasonably quiet.  I would direct any other questions towards her.  I am a barmaid, not a stewardess.  Vanndred--”


Sue set a plate in front of the Chistori and growled low and warm.  She knew his understanding of Shyriiwook would get her meaning across clearly.

 

<<I hope you enjoy your kebabs.>>

This was somehow rather more like a statement than a wish.

Edited by Mel

There's a dozen selves inside you, trying to be the one to run the dials

[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - Lucira - FerellisMorie - Fanai - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed - Pradhai - Ipsudir

And some aren't even on your side.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC (Vanndred, The Stray Tach):

 

The Chistori's head dipped a little as he picked up the plate of nerf kebabs. "I will."

 

Vanndred took a few steps before turning his head back at Sue. <<If you ask me, she's gonna bring trouble,>> he said in Huttese. <<Trust me. It was hunters like me that were usually the trouble.>>

The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC: Rav

 

"My condolences."

 

Now that was helpful. Hopefully it meant they'd know their way around, if they didn't, understandably, ditch this planet as soon as possible back when.

 

"Now, I've seen enough holovids to know that staying out in the junkyard overnight always leads to crazy mutant rancors, so I'd like to get moving."

 

IC (Tallik Vao, Taris junkyard)

 

Tal nodded.

 

"Just follow us. Cy and I will get you there in one piece," he said, then added, "...I don't think I caught your name?"

sig_panel_bzprpg.pngsig_panel_profiles.pngsig_panel_flickr.pngsig_panel_steam.pngsig_panel_n7.png

 

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC:

 

Though not entirely convinced that the Chistori was not a threat, it was clear he wasn't an immediate one. The human, on the other hand, she could largely discount. Calm, but his posture had an undercurrent of wariness. Concern. Not an Imperial agent. If anyone could recognize an Imperial, it would be one of their own. And the Wookie, while a pleasant person thus far, was definitely not someone Rebekah wanted to make an enemy of. So she took her hand away from her hip, and released the handle of her music case before giving both the Chistori and Sue an apologetic nod of the head. Then she took a moment to start rifling through the pocket of her jacket.

"My apologies, then. To you two sirs, and to you as well, Sue." Finally finding what she was looking for, the Novatrooper set a credit chip down on the counter and slid it towards Sue and her droid. She gestured, a moment later, at Vanndred, Sen, and Jenth in turn. "For my bill. And for theirs, as means of apology, and hers by way of apology for any fright. There should be enough there."

"As for your question," She turned her attention, briely, to the human. "One can never be too careful. And I think that that is as much as you want to know, and as much as you should."

 

"My friends at the apartment," NT-081 inquired, almost conversationally, into her earpiece. "Have they come out looking for me? I hope I haven't kept them waiting too long."

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

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC:

 

"Excellent. Play it off." Dana was quiet for a second. "Expect them to hold position for perhaps another ten minutes. No longer."

 

-Tyler

Edited by Costa Vespula

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC (Vanndred, The Stray Tach):

 

Well, that was kind of her. That put a brick back in the foundation of his next medical treatment. Vanndred slid back into his booth, picking up one of the nerf kebabs. He scanned the bar again, this time not letting his head movement betray him. As he did so, he tore the first two pieces of meat off the stick, his tongue flicking them to the back of his mouth one by one. Chewing was overrated, as were cheeks to do so with.

 

Mmmmm. Tasty.

The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC:

 

"How long until they meet up with me?" The renegade trooper asked, sipping casually at her drink again. Not quite as relaxed as before, but she'd dialed her readiness down a few notches. She was keeping an eye on this 'Meinha', now, seeing if she could learn anything. "And do our friends have anything on a Mon Cala named Meinha?"

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

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC (Vanndred, The Stray Tach):

 

The Chistori's head dipped a little as he picked up the plate of nerf kebabs. "I will."

 

Vanndred took a few steps before turning his head back at Sue. <<If you ask me, she's gonna bring trouble,>> he said in Huttese. <<Trust me. It was hunters like me that were usually the trouble.>>

 

[Sue, The Stray Tach, Lower Reaches]

TK, at a growl from Sue, swerved over to hover barely two inches from Vanndred’s snought.

 

“I wouldn’t be still running this bar if I couldn’t handle a little trouble,” the machine said.  Then it zipped over to grab a plate of fried coin crabs from it’s master.

There's a dozen selves inside you, trying to be the one to run the dials

[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - Lucira - FerellisMorie - Fanai - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed - Pradhai - Ipsudir

And some aren't even on your side.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC (Raia Veyura, ISD Insight)

 

"Oh come on, it's all in good fun," Veyura replied with a pout. "Nokon knows I'm only toying with him."

 

Another smile, as charming as could be.

 

"Don't you, Nokon?"

 

IC:

 

"Toying like a dire-cat does, maybe." The Inquisitor quipped back without hesitation, a faint grin spreading across his features. "The pouty, charming act is a good look, Veyura, but the rest of us know better. All in all, I trust you about as far as I could throw you."

 

Liare made a point of looking the Umbaran up and down.

 

"And I don't have that much arm strength."

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

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC:

 

"Benth, Benth Syllar. New Republic Navy," He'd have to apologize to Benth about that sometime. Or just tell him to stay away from Taris for a few planetary cycles. It wasn't so much that he didn't trust these two, which he didn't completely, but it made it easier for them in the long run. The Empire could certainly track him regardless, but there was no sense in making it easy.

 

Rav offered a hand in greeting.

mnogsignature.png

BZPRPG -

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC (Tallik Vao, Taris junkyard)

 

Tallik gave the hand one firm shake.

 

"Pleased to meet you, Benth," he said. "And this...this is my partner, Cylund Calrissian. He'll soon find some way of making himself more than memorable, believe me."

Edited by Ghosthands

sig_panel_bzprpg.pngsig_panel_profiles.pngsig_panel_flickr.pngsig_panel_steam.pngsig_panel_n7.png

 

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC: (Cylund Calrissian, Taris Junkyard)

 

Cylund, at the time, was trying his best to, seemingly, take a grenade apart without blowing it up with nothing but his bare hands and his teeth. Another look at it confirmed that the detonator did not seem to actually be operational, more model-like than anything; what raised as many questions as reassurances, and yet, that was Cylund for you. That said, when Benth stretched out his hand, after Tallik shook it, Cylund put his toy aside and gave Benth's hand an amicable shake.

 

"Nice meeting you, Benth. Rare to see a face even remotely friendly on this lump of coal of a planet."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC: Taris, a dull and bleak world. It had never been anything different, though life became much harder for those who survived after Malak bombed the planet. The elite still lived on the surface, while the less fortunate had to live below. The odd bit of xenophobia still emerged now and then. In the lower levels, small-time gangs waged wars against each other, while mobsters worked to profit off of everyone. Taris was not a planet most travel to voluntarily. Yet that was exactly what Mia Arkada had done three months ago.

 

Her assignment was a straight forward one: she was to restore an Imperial Outpost located in the mid-level. That job had not been easy. The place was still overrun by gangs. Mia had heard her share of stories about the tensions that had occurred in the past. Many of the locals still spoke of the war between the Black Vulkars and Hidden Beks that once broke out four thousand years ago. The Imperial records had explained the rivalry in more detail, and even noted that among other people, the Beks had support from Revan, though at that time she did not know her true identity. Those gangs still existed and fought for reasons long forgotten, though they had never regained the strength they once had. Other gangs had also moved in over the years, and fought over territory. It made a professional job difficult.

 

There were only a few others stationed at the outpost. Besides herself, there were a few other officers, mechanics, a medic, and a handful of stormtroopers. Just keeping the gangs away was already taking a lot of time, letalone the task she had actually been brought to accomplish. Fortunately, it had been a calmer day and there was some time to work. The base had already been in ruins for years by the time Mia arrived. It was never anything huge; there was a living room, a kitchen, two sets of bedrooms for officers and enlisted personell, a small armory, washroom, and a storage room. Gang members had taken much of what was left behind after it was abandoned, namely the few weapons and technical components they could recover. So far, they had managed to ensure that the outpost was structurally stable, though it was still dusty and worn for an Imperial base.

 

Mia groaned as she was shaken awake. The old mattresses on the beds were not great for sleeping on. That was something they needed to fix. She looked toward the officer who stood over her.

 

"What is it?"

 

"I'm sorry to wake you, Lieutenant," the officer said. "We managed to get the computers working."

 

"That's good," Mia replied as she stood up.

 

"We had some difficulty finding the parts. I had to search a bunch of the shops on the surface, but we got them."

 

"Very good," Mia said. "Why don't you take a break and get some rest. I'll see about getting some better mattresses."

 

"Yes, Lieutenant," the officer replied.

 

Mia stepped out of the bedroom and into the living room. She carefully began to tie her long brown hair behind her as she approached the door. Stepping outside, she moved toward the stormtrooper on guard duty.

 

"Anything to report?" She asked.

 

The stormtrooper quickly removed her helmet before addressing the officer. "It's been quiet, lieutenant," she said.

 

"Good," Mia said. "Maybe we can get this job done without having to stop a gang war."

 

Mia was not exactly enthusiastic about her current position. She did sometimes wonder if restoring this outpost was even possible. Right now, all she could do was focus on her task and do what she could. Mia turned toward the stormtrooper. "You're dismissed," she said. "Why don't you go get some R&R for a few hours?"

 

"Thank you," the Stromtrooper said, as she lowered her gun and began to walk away.

 

OOC: I guess Mia is open for interaction, if anyone is interested in meeting an Imperial Officer.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC (Raltz Nightwing, ISD Insight):

 

Several decades of service has its perks, Raltz thought to himself as he sat in his private quarters. A rare privilege for a stormtrooper aboard a Star Destroyer, especially an enlisted man, even a sergeant. He poured his drink of choice, aged golden Corellian ale, into the small glass, before closing the crystal bottle. It had been a get-well gift from his previous stormtrooper squad's survivors after the accident which gave him the cybernetics. Few years ago now, but it seemed even longer.

 

Raltz reached for the glass, then stopped. Wrong hand. He reached out with his organic hand instead, holding it up to toast. Freewater. Am'marie. Church. Khilad. Half killed by his hand. The other half by his order. All in service to... what? Raltz downed the glass. This wasn't what he had fought and killed for. To lose ground to some rebellion. We have the ships, why don't we just glass Chandrilla from orbit?

 

Hmm... maybe the drink was taking effect too fast. He'd have to get his chemical diffuser implant checked out. Getting up to leave, Raltz adjusted his uniform, a simple black shirt worn over his bodyglove. He would wear stormtrooper armor, if he had been issued it. Regardless, the Inquistitors were going on a mission to the planet's surface. He needed to be ready. Locking his quarters, Raltz walked to the armory where his armor was kept. Just in case he needed to be deployed.

 

OOC: Raltz available for interaction... I guess. Don't think anybody else is on the Insight currently...

The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

OOC: Oh, I didn't realize that being in orbit was still fair game. If you want, Mia's already on Taris if you can get down there, or I could get up there.

 

IC: Mia stepped back into the living room where she found some more of her partners waiting. It had been a hard few months of work, but they had managed to get the outpost into somewhat working order. There was still work to be done; the place needed to be cleaned up, they had to find new mattresses, and there was still the odd bit of machinery that needed replacing. Still, if necessary they could accommodate any Imperial staff as needed.

 

Mia stood to address the officers and stormtroopers who had gathered in the living room. There was less than a handful. She looked at them calmly and spoke.

 

"It's been a rough three months, but in that time you have all done a great job. When we got here, this place was a ruin. It is true that we still have a lot of things to do, but this outpost is ready for whenever it is needed. We've done amazingly, and I think you all deserve some recreation. Before we do, is there any word from the Imperial fleet?"

 

"Yes," one of the officers said. "No orders yet, but there's a Star Destroyer in orbit on standby."

 

"Good," Mia said. "That might mean we'll be relieved soon."

 

"That would be nice," one of the officers said. "We can get off this rock."

 

"In the meantime, I think you've earned a night of recreation. I'd like you to go out and enjoy yourselves. I'll stay behind in case there are any further orders, but you've earned it. You are dismissed."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC:

 

Something about ecumenopoli, great boisterous beehives of civilization that consumed worlds and sent epileptics shrieking with their lights and brash personalities, made Costa Vespula melt inside. Perhaps it was her genes. Her very nature. The way her slender legs coiled just perfectly enough to fit around the thin blue line between dark side (the burning of passions) and dark side (the burning of orphanages) and ride it until she was dead on her feet. 

 

The fact that Liare Sarir was in space somewhere, gnawing his fingers to their slender bones in boredom, only made her tremors more violent.

 

Those who got what the ebony shuttle represented steered clear of Costa like she was a living wound in the Force, and no patrols bothered her on her way to the Upper City at large. She went via taxi, trusting her person to a mantis-like protocol droid that reminded her numbly of Raia's metal . As she left the stoic's paradise that was her Imperial docking platform and felt herself rocked by the seedy, stigmatic nightlife of Taris, Costa started to ache with anticipation of her mission. Ache.

 

It burned inside her.

 

Under the lights and screams of Taris' traffic - under the bellows of shoddy skyscrapers, sucking in atoms that had been people before Malak, Costa Vespula begin to unwind in anticipation of her mission. Her stance parted slightly and she massaged the aches of the cramped Lambda voyage from her femurs, one after the other. Under the leather of her pants, her skin grew sensitive, leg growing taut underneath her terse grip. She brushed fingers through her short, boyish hair - a satisfied breath.

 

As her hand kept crawling and began working kinks from her neck, the exhale turned into a soft purr of pleasure. It rolled on and on and on. Like space. Like the Force. Like old memories, the noise in her throat rolled on.

 

As much as she would have liked to wake up in a stranger's bed in some nice studio apartment (a task made thousands of times easier without the incandescent Sarir present to turn male sexual preference into fluid) Costa was Chief Inquisitor now. Her duties went beyond the bohemian; under her stewardship, genius could recognize genius; artisans and scoundrels and scientists and brutes could unite under the banner of the Force without a single constraint and lay waste to the notions of Jedi and Sith forever.

 

Costa could lay waste to them herself. But first, a holocron.

 

Her first stop was a beautiful (by Brutalist Tarisian standards) complex where, it was said by the locals, a structure erected over a structure erected over a structure erected over a structure erected over a structure where Darth Revan once slept was erected. Costa had seen her target and knew he would never blend into the crowd up here...but the Inquisitors would, more than they would amidst the unsavory refugees and ugly revenants of old Tarisian society. It would be exactly where a New Republic pilot would slink to - full of garbage, both organic and mechanical, where pursuit would stick out to any trained eye.

 

But from the Upper City, they could trick him.

 

First, to settle her own scores, though.

 

She booked two rooms by gender - and then shuffled their reservations to the same floor, so that any assassination attempt by Veyura (a snake in the room on a few levels, but one that wouldn't be hard to look at and one she had learned to squeeze into line) would be met by Sarir (far removed from both Costa and the ability to build himself a room full of Amazing Technicolor Dream Hos.)

 

When she was seen to her room, Costa hopped backwards onto one of the beds and kicked her legs up, leather-clad knees looming over her like monuments. She felt herself sinking, practically becoming one with the Force. The mattress felt amazing after ten hours of Imperial leather. But...

 

She popped in an earpiece and murmured into it.

 

"There's one more lonely Zeltron on Taris' surface tonight. Who's going to cheer her up first?"

 

IC:

 

An unbearably more structured arrival awaited Aldera's crew when they landed on the planet's surface. With none of the claustrophobic air of an Inquisitor, the two mercenaries were stopped and inspected multiple times before being allowed inside the outpost. Reo was quizzed on Imperial protocol, his ship, business on Taris, and his code cylinder - while his "executive assistant," Private Menerre, stood and looked pretty in her crisp Imperial outfit. Left unspoken by her charming smile and quiet demeanor were the subtle, heady Zeltron pheromones she was exuding while Reo spoke.

 

Needless to say, they got inside and were allowed a private room in the barracks, surrounded on two sides by other visiting Imperials and on another by one of several small lounge areas. It was an inconvenience they hadn't thought of, but had planned around before.

 

After an hour, those rooms had all cleared out. Reo and Skri were left alone to talk without fear of eavesdropping.

 

"The elevator, love," the Alderaanian said lazily, plopping down a cap on Skri's head and tilting it. "Did you happen to see where they built the elevator?"

 

IC:

 

"No." The sound of a hmmmph echoed crisply over Rebekah's earpiece. "No, they don't. In twelve minutes, they'll know you're not returning as you were expected to. They'll expect a tipster on the ground. If you have any contacts on planet, they should hide. Fast. Because we have all of them."

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC:

"What a coincidence!" An (unfortunately) familiar voice chimed in over Costa's earpiece, its bright, cheery Inquisitor owner beaming to himself inside a Lambda-class shuttle. Sarir reclined on a seat, propping his feet up on the seat across the aisle, and let his grin widen ever further into his usual smirk. "There'll be three more friends planetside iiiiiiin... About two hours. We left a little ahead of schedule. I blame Veyura for putting the idea of persuading the flight deck officer into my head."

 

"I'm not sure she knows she did, but it was definitely her fault." The human Inquisitor shot the Umbaran a bright grin, then crossed his arms casually across his chest. "Point is, we'll be there soon. Gonna take a wild guess and say you already grabbed a place to stay. Aaaaand it's probably where Revan once stood, right?"

A beat.

"If you're gonna yell at me, don't. I've got briefings to do. I mean feel free to do it, I'm just probably not gonna listen."

He clapped his hands together once, turning his attention to the other occupants of the craft. Raine, giant freight train of a man he was, didn't quite look comfy in his seat, but Veyura was having no problems. She was as expressive as she ever was, to be honest. Which varied. A lot. "Alright, folks! First thing's first. Anything with a big Inquisitorius symbol on it? Leave it on the shuttle. We're not telegraphing our presence. Easier to track a rat if we can blend in with them."

A finger pointed at Raine, and the thumb on the same hand jerked back at Liare himself. "Roid Rage and I know these places. Spent plenty of time in 'em. Dr. Scare Tactics, though, you're gonna need a crash course. First off, don't make 'em call you 'doctor'. Lightsabers are to be hidden. If you're gonna have a weapon visible, and it's probably not a bad idea, make it a blaster. Or that hypo gun of yours, doc."

 

He stretched a little, quieting a moment. Truth be told, it was better if he kept running his mouth. Taris was more familiar than Coruscant ever was, even though he'd never set foot on the planet himself. Ecumenopolises like this one, places with a big, seedy underworld, were like second nature to him. But Taris had been the site of an immense tragedy. The world had moved on, but the Force didn't forget. So many lives lost left a scar, something he could feel thousands of years after it first happened. It was faint, with few of the effects wounds usually had remaining, but it was still there. Like scar tissue. Faded, no longer a real injury, but still there. A reminder of what the truly evil could do. A sobering one.

And Liare Sarir didn't really like feeling sobered.

 

"We do this right, maybe we can have a little fun along the way, huh? Taris has got to have some great clubs. Places a New Republic guy'd totally hide."

 

IC:

 

"Southeast, I think. towards the center of the building, away from the edge." 'Private' Menerre jabbed her thumb in the indicated direction, casually adjusting the cap and beginning to step in that direction. "Didn't see any signs on the outside, s'bound to be where they're at."

 

IC;

 

Twelve minutes.

Not enough time, not enough time. Even if she could work out a deal with this 'Meinha', it would take time for the negotiations. On top of that it would take time for the preparations to be made. Her apartment had already been discovered, and it was not nearly far enough from the Stray Tach for comfort. Given proper search tactics (or even improper ones, given the reputation of the local Imperial officers) she would be located within a few hours if she didn't move. Distance between her and her pursuers was needed. Meinha was no longer an option.

 

And as though to make her day worse, the large group of off-duty Imperial agents making their way through the streets meant half the place was apparently on leave. Increased concentration of officers, even off-duty ones, increased the chances she was discovered. It only took one person taking too close a look, or getting their memory jogged, for them to make a connection between the fugitive Novatrooper and her. Even if they were looking for someone in full armor, she was carrying hers in a case. One unlucky stop could ruin her, too.

 

So she downed the remainder of her drink, knowing she would need some measure of hydration to get through this, and surveyed the bar again. Pivoting in her chair gave her a better look out the door, keeping track of the people who came and went, and the general population of the street outside. She had eleven minutes now, by her estimation, before they would start fanning out from her apartment.

 

They were trying very, very hard to spring the trap around her. She was not trapped yet, however, and she refused to let this be where they got her.

 

"None worth saving." The Novatrooper stated a little bluntly, running through a list of her contacts on Taris. Most had been one-time-only, and most of them were criminals. The rest would tell the Empire what they knew, as little as it was. She hoped the people at the Tach would do the same. For their own sake. "I'm on the move. Stall them if you can."

 

Rebekah bothered little with pretense when she stood, and grabbed the case from next to her. She had already paid for her meal, there was nothing preventing her from leaving quickly. But she needed to find a ship. Failing a ship, she needed to find somewhere to hide a little longer. Neither one was exactly looking promising. Ten minutes, now. 

 

Think. Or you shall be running from the Empire rather more immediately, this time.

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

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC: Mia was alone. Gang activity had been less frequent in the past few days, and she could look after herself if needed. Still, someone had to stay back at the outpost while the others left, if only to answer messages. Not that she expected any, but if they were to come, she didn't want to keep her superiors waiting. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small earpiece, putting it into her ear to see if anyone else was online.

 

"...we'll be there soon. Gonna take a wild guess and say you already grabbed a place to stay. Aaaaand it's probably where Revan once stood, right?"

 

Mia pulled the earpiece out in frustration. "Seriously?" She muttered. All that time restoring the outpost and they were just going to stay in that old hotel on the surface. She took a moment to calm down and catch her breath before putting the earpiece back in.

 

"You mind if I ask what the point was of us spending the past few months restoring this outpost if you're not going to use it?" She finally asked.

Edited by Atton Rand
Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC:

"I'm inclined to say 'because bureaucracy'." Sarir said, only the faintest arching of his eyebrows indicated his surprise that someone was on the line. He rolled his neck, enjoying the brief stretch, then crossed his arms across his chest. He continued a moment later, a faint note of amusement coloring his voice. "But frankly, I have no idea. That'd be a matter for the Imperial... Army, Navy, whichever you guys are."

"We're here on a mission that requires discretion. The boss picked the place she figured would be best." A beat. "I'm not sure who you are, but you realize we're Inquisitorius, right? Used to be Imperial Intelligence? Got too big, now we're our own deal? The big, jet-black Star Destroyer in orbit is Insight. That paint job's not Navy issue."

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

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC: Mia paused. She was obviously getting into something, and it was probably best to back out now before something went wrong.

 

"I'm sorry, I was not notified," Mia finally said. "I was informed there was a Star Destroyer in orbit, but not given details. I guess I owe you an explanation now."

 

Mia sat down, took a deep breath, and then began to speak.

 

"My name is Lieutenant Mia Arkada. For the past few months I've been working with a few others in the lower level with the assignment of restoring an abandoned outpost to working order. When I was told that a Star Destroyer had arrived, we were hoping you might be here to relieve us. It would seem that I was wrong about that."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC (Raia Veyura, Inquisitorius shuttle)

 
"You were."

 

In contrast to Sarir's lounging, Veyura sat neatly in her seat with one leg primly crossed over the other and hands clasped in her lap. She had raised an eyebrow a few acerbic fractions of an inch as Sarir mansplained a few blending-in techniques—techniques that would have been blindingly obvious to an Umbaran even if she hadn't spent most of her adult life on Coruscant—and had raised it yet further as the voice of this blundering underling came over the comm.

 

That raised a few questions, in fact. Had her colleagues made the unseemly error of using a general Imperial frequency, instead of one reserved for members of the Inquisitorius? Or had this lieutenant gained access to a secure channels through illicit means?

 

"I suggest you watch your tone, Lieutenant. We are about to undertake a sensitive operation, and the Inquisitorius does not tolerate insubordination at the best of times. Is that understood?"

Edited by Ghosthands

sig_panel_bzprpg.pngsig_panel_profiles.pngsig_panel_flickr.pngsig_panel_steam.pngsig_panel_n7.png

 

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

OOC: Just started replaying Knights of the Old Republic. It was a bit jarring at first after getting used to the likes of more recent RPGs like Fallout and Skyrim, but I could definitely see a lot of the influence it would have had on those types of games.

 

IC: Mia paused. She was never the greatest at listening to orders, but she did know better than to talk back to her superiors without a good reason. She took a deep breath.

 

"Understood," she finally said. "I'll be here if you need me. Signing off."

 

Mia took a moment to pull herself together as she turned off her earpiece. So there still was not much to be doing. Figured.

 

The door opened, and a drunken stormtrooper stumbled into the room. She was giggling, still holding a bottle of some form of liquor in one hand. Mia turned toward the new arrival. "I think you've had a bit too much," Mia said as she reached out and took the bottle from the trooper's hand. "Come on."

 

Mia put one arm around the stormtrooper, and carried her towards a couch nearby. "You're missing a lot of fun!" The Stormtrooper muttered, her words slurring.

 

"I'm sure I have," Mia replied, before lowing the stormtrooper onto the couch. "This is the third time I've had to bring you in drunk. We really need to do something about this, Private Ordo."

 

Ordo barely seemed to be paying attention to Mia, instead lying down on the couch and closing her eyes. It only took a moment before she began snoring loudly. There was not much she could do now other than leave her. She just hoped that the rest of the staff wasn't getting as drunk. In the meantime, she could not do much more than wait for further instructions.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC (Raltz Nightwing, Taris):

 

The landing ship shook as it started to enter the atmosphere. The lander had no viewports, obviously, but Raltz didn't need one. He had seen the squalor from orbit. He had never much cared for ecumenopoli, much preferring the agrarian world similar to the one he grew up on. Imperial Center was the only city-world that held his interest, and even then he knew the entire planet couldn't be shining buildings and statues. There had been grime just beneath the surface, a filth that would be much more up-front here on Taris. The inquisitors had shown historical interest in this world, but Raltz had only concerned himself with the recent history. A fairly quiet world, considering some of the worlds Raltz had been deployed to in the past. Beyond a hijacking of a moff's ship, not much notable rebel activity. Plenty of crime, though. A slight smile creeped onto the hard-edged face of the veteran stormtrooper as a brief thought flashed into his mind, that of misguided youth seeing he and his stormtroopers in all their glory, and going to enlist.

 

Raltz's imaginary enlistment scenario was dismissed by the muffled voice of the transport's pilot calmly deflecting the confused transmissions of flight control. They weren't expected, as if anyone ever did expect them. Looking around, Raltz did a quick last-minute check of the transport craft's cargo: eight Inquisitorius elite stormtroopers clad in scarred yet polished black armor. They had varying weapons, Raltz allowed them their personal preference. Two technicians in Imperial Army uniforms, with a mobile armory unit, containing extra specialist weaponry in addition to his personal arms and armor. Last was himself. He was out of uniform, technically; his formal uniform coat and hat, worn over his stormtrooper bodyglove, armed for now with a standard E-11 blaster. As the transport maneuvered in for a landing, Raltz straightened into his harness. He wondered who had been sent to greet them.

Edited by Keeper of Kraata

The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

IC: Mia stepped back into the room, carrying with her a blanket. She approached the snoring stormtrooper Ordo and placed the blanket over her. Moments like these made her question if she was sometimes too lenient towards her staff. The best she could do for now was get her drunken friend back on her feet as quickly as possible and hope that nobody else got too drunk.

 

Her attention was drawn by a noise from outside. The door was still open, and reluctantly Mia stepped outside. It sounded like an engine; some kind of ship making a landing. That was unexpected, especially in the lower level. She closed the door and began to move toward the sounds. It led her to a small open area, near the ruins of the large building that had once belonged to the Black Vulkars. There she saw what appeared to be an Imperial Shuttle making a landing. As the engines came to a stop, the door opened, and she saw a group of stormtroopers beginning to leave the shuttle. Not sure what else to do, she stood at attention and waited for their commander to exit.

Link to comment
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.

 Share

×
×
  • Create New...