Ali Hadrix
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Affiliation: GALSAF (Galactic Security Assistance Force)
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Post by Ali Hadrix on Nov 24, 2013 22:07:37 GMT -8
Leftenant Asha Bonafeld, L-44-F
Zeta Group, 4th Battalion, 1st Airborne Commando Support Brigade, GALSAF
Tibannopolis Airspace, Bespin Lifezone Asha grimaced and watched the enemy gunship careened off the bridge section of the Star Destroyer, throwing twisted durasteel fragments into the air as smoke billowed all around the vessel's chassis. She felt the Hati shake underneath her seat as Leftenant @kaytra pulled hard on the stick to correct their approach vector. Her pilot snapped orders over the comlink to wait for a clear shot and the ship bolted forward with sudden speed to close the distance between themselves and their prey. The MAF gunship had lodged itself into the Venator's bridge structure just long enough to vomit out its occupants, but within moments the Hati had closed and Asha heard Kaytra's order to fire. She squeezed the torpedo triggers on her control sticks and watched as both rockets flared into existence outside the viewport, lancing towards the enemy vessel and burrowing themselves into the aft end of the fuselage before exploding brilliantly in a flash of orange flame and grey smoke. Pieces of the vessel shot out in a great cloud, fragments peppering the Hati's hull and causing the shields to flicker briefly as they adjusted to the swell of debris. Asha shouted her excitement briefly, before initiating another sector scan.Nice flying, Kaytra, but I've got two more hostiles at our four o'clock, thirty degrees down. I'm painting them now. Asha checked her scanner once more and relayed the position of the hostile fighters to the Leftenant's display screen. She hoped Garwig Gil Ga'Mesh and the infiltration team were close to finishing their mission, the skies were growing crowded and she worried about the Hati taking a stray rocket.Leftenant Ali Hadrix, GCF-1124
4th Platoon, FOX Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st IBCT, GALSAF
Command Bridge of Unidentified Pirate Venator-class Star Destroyer Ali wiped blood from her lip as she pulled herself to her feet, slamming her rifle down onto the top of a nearby console and steadying herself. Blaster bolts continued to pour from the aft end of the bridge, though she knew Sergent Defay and his squad were already at work cutting their enemies thin. She glanced over at Crystaall Sehefadu, who appeared to be in a rage, firing her own weapon like a wild woman and downing several enemy pirates for every one that shot back. Ali had seen the damage her lightsaber had taken moments before, and understood what it must feel like to lose something that was such a strong part of her. Her own weapon was like a dear friend, always there to take care of her as long as she took care of it. She knew Crystaall must have felt the same way about the Jedi weapon and hoped she still might be able to repair it.
After Defay called out to Ali over the comlink, she ordered a cease fire on her end of the bridge, waving her hand across her face, palm out, to signal those who did not have functioning comms or were not jacked in to GALSAF's communication system, such as Crystaall. Several moments later, the swathe of blaster fire began to fizzle out as fewer and fewer pirates were left in the fight. For a moment, Ali swore she heard a mournful bellowing ring from the aft end of the bridge, later confirmed as she watched Sergent Defay, without a helmet and no rifle in his hands, cutting into a trio of pirates no more than ten meters from where she stood. Enemy fire continued to cut through the air, several bolts glanced off of her armor, causing her to flinch before she took the risk to return fire and eliminate her would-be killers.
Glancing over to the other side of the command deck, Ali say two of her own men laying on the ground, apparently lifeless. Her HUD told her they were alive, but unconscious, though several others were emitting injury warnings. Before she could call for a status report from anyone, another stray bolt cut through the air and struck her body, just between her chest and side plate. Fire burned through her chest as the blaster bolt seared through her body suit and charred her ribs beneath the skin. Ali fell back with a grunt, pain exploding across her side and chest. She screamed sharply as she fell and felt her helmeted head smack the deck plating below. Immediately, Ali's bacta injection system went to work on the pain, though it would be some time before the medicine proved effective to heal her wounds enough to bring her out of danger.
Her luck arrived in the form of Sergent Defay and his men, who were finishing the last of the pirates off with Crystaall and what remained of Ali's own team. The din of the battle began to die out, replaced by the pained grunts and wails of the injured pirates. Her own soldiers were either unconscious or too tough to allow such racket to sound beyond their own sealed helmet's, but one hazy glance at her HUD told Ali that more than a handful of them were in such pain. Slowly she rolled herself onto her good side and reached with a gloved hand for the console overhead, pulling herself painfully to her knees. She grasped the grip of her rifle and tucked it close before falling back to lean against console, her weapon angled outwards in case she needed to protect herself.Status report! Everyone! Ali snapped over the comlink before yanking off her helmet and repeating the order so all could hear. "Status report! All of you! Now!" She called as pain washed over her for the umpteenth time that day. |
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 24, 2013 22:33:13 GMT -8
*Kaytra let out a victory yell as the MAF erupted into flames.*
::Nice shooting Bonafeld::
*She then turned her attention to the other targets now appearing on her hud. Slowing the Hati down, she brought the ship into a hard turn. As she did this, another fighter and gunship came into view. The gunship seemed to be moving a lot slower then the first, and it was also being protected by a Z-95 Headhunter.*
::Well. Looks like things just got more interesting.::
*She brought her gunship in closer, keeping it at a slower speed. As she did the Z-95 tilted in their direction, as if a warning but did not directly attack. Kaytra checked their vector.*
::They don't seem to be heading towards the ship. Or anywhere in particular for that matter.:: *She scanned the MAF. The ship itself was moving slow and deliberate. As if it was trying to avoid any unnecessary damage to itself or whatever was inside.* ::Where do you think that MAFs going?::
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Crystaall Sehefadu
Member
Keep pushing, and never look back
Posts: 359 
Affiliation: The New Order of the Jensaarai, GALSAF, The New Republic/Old Republic
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Post by Crystaall Sehefadu on Nov 25, 2013 18:00:40 GMT -8
*Crystaall continued to fire in rage after watching Ali go down. She winced at the pain in her cheek, but she had to keep firing. She had to keep firing to keep the others alive. She was relieved when Defay and his team showed up. She kept firing but made her way to Ali, making sure she was ok. Once the shots ceased, Crystaall noticed Ali's injury and picked her up, slowly looking over the wound as the one in her cheek continued to bleed. She refused to respond to Ali's status report, because it was obvioxus she couldn't speak with a hole in her cheek. She looked over Ali's body, trying to see how bad the bolt hit her, and grinned with a pained look on her face. She admired the body of her companion, but the injury looked bad. She expressed a puzzled look on her face, wondering how to heal Ali quickly. Without warning a shot went of and Crystaall turned around, flinging a combat knife at the attacker, hitting him in the right eye.*
"Bastard- argggh..."
*Crystaall grabbed her cheek and moaned in pain. (What a bother, being unable to speak.)*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Sept 28, 2014 22:38:00 GMT -8
*An old outpost from long ago becomes active in Tibannopolis...sending out a weak signal on a triple cycle bandwidth. No doubt, it would be picked up by the comlinks of Jace and Dante...though others, such as the nearby syndicate base, would no doubt detect it as well.*
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Post by Orin Clash on Oct 2, 2015 22:10:09 GMT -8
Smiling Vacuum.
The inevitable opening of my eyes every morning I have come to dread, with the most tediously indifferent loathing I think a human can feel. It's awful, being unable to even summon the hatred for wakefulness that used to drive me back into sleeping; but it's even worse not giving a damn about any of it. I despise my own inability to despise, and I don't remember when it died.
It must have been before I came here. I never would have let them put me here otherwise, and I certainly wouldn't be staying here. But all the same, I get my regular meals, free lodging, and they let me read, meditate, or exercise. Whatever my sloth will let me do when it relents. It's as cushy as I could hope for a prison to be.
I don't think the worst part is the sloth, though. No, likely not. I don't mind being indolent at times. I think what really leaves me wanting to claw bloody fingerstumps into the permacrete is...
"...when I start thinking about my life," I say with a waking gasp, wiping mindless drool from the corner of my mouth. Eyes blink. I've been staring at the lights again, and I need to clean the spots from my vision. Once again, I've finished my monotonous afternoon ritual introspection, and it's time to cease working my self-knotted mind and give my body a chance to build some knots before dinner. I think I decided that today I'd work on my kicking.
With the first concussion of my heel into the worn dent of the permacrete, I think the same thought as ever: maybe someday, I'll find something enough for me to leave prison. Once again, the usual whispers of hallucinated hope tickle my mind. 'This time,' the liars promise, 'this time it's worth leaving!'
But Hope is a liar, or at least it's always lied to me.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Oct 29, 2015 15:14:38 GMT -8
Landing on the listing station he was amazed that the thing was still in use. It wasnt exactly new, and despite its more recent occupation it was still one of the top ten cities producing Tibanna gas. Second only to Cloud City.
Stepping off his ship he walked over to pay off his landing fee. Despite getting a strange look over his clothing he didnt care, what was popular in the core was considered wacky and crazy out here in the sticks. He was not in either but actually in his old Imperial Knight armour. Since the Imperial Knights had learned he was alive again he had started wearing his old armour again. Reports had it that they were searching tirelessly for him and if they found him it would not be good.
Figuring that Hevn would be around and looking for him he just walked and took in what sights he could. There werent a lot. It was really spartan. So instead he just went to a restaurant. Despite the surrounding area this place was a step up from the other establishments. Digging in he savored the steak.
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Nov 5, 2015 4:38:45 GMT -8
Hevn and Alkor had made their way to Bespin the day prior. Bedrovelse meandered slowly next to his fellow Dark Jedi as they took in the layout methodically. Watched for the spies carefully. Such was their will and their ways. Bedrovelse's ear comm crackles to life, without pausing in stride he lifts his hand to touch it.
Hey boss. Got a Knight heading from the spaceport into the city.
Bedrovelse grunts as he disengages the line. Tapping Alkor on the shoulder he nods his head to the right, guiding into a turn. Hevn moves toward the service sector.
Hevn reaches out in the force. Taking a deep breath and fanning the area. Multiple hits struck, causing him to have to sift more carefully. Familiarity was key. Only one of those nearby could be mistaken for his contact.
If you lived on Bespin you either mined the gas or you bathed in the riches of it. At this time of day the lunch rush made traffic thick. Luckily it made the appearance of hood and cloak less suspicious as others donning such appeared in the growing numbers around them. When he came upon the Knight it was fortunately in the least crowded of the strip. Dining alone on a strip he imagined tender and juicy, the way they used to be when his mouth could drink in the tastes of fine foods. He spared both of them a jealous remark as he sat across from Solomon.
"Interesting."
Hevn pats his shoulder, gesturing the armor. He folds his hands into the sleeves of his robes. Lowering his voice he continues.
" We mean to lead here. I was hoping you could make some valuable introductions in exchange for the price of your asking."
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Nov 5, 2015 9:40:38 GMT -8
As Hevn touched his shoulder he smirked.
With anonymity gone the best defense is the same as what my enemy wears.
Although the chances of actually running into an Imperial Knight out here was low it was better to be safe than sorry.
You mean to lead what? Tibannopolis? The mining of the gas, or all of Bespin?
Even before asking Xeonon knew the answer. The Dark Jedi would not have called him if they had wanted something as small one city, they would have just killed the man in charge and taking it from him. No they obviously wanted the planet. It seems the duo had come to an agreement about how they would operate, perhaps they were even bringing the DJO back.
I can get you an in. The planet is run more or less through the mining company here and since the unfortunate events on Munnilisnt Solomon Mines has been in need of a way to branch out. Tibanna mining is going to be profitable in this new age.
Using a napkin to wipe his the sauce from his face he placed it down on top of what was left of his food.
The problem is that the inhabitants here are going to be resistant to that. They tend to like flying under the mining guilds radar, and Solomon Mines is under that Jurisdiction.
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Post by Alkor Centaris on Nov 8, 2015 20:45:30 GMT -8
"How much are you asking for?"
Alkor's question was paradoxically as blunt as it was sharp. His violet gaze watched the enigmatic knight with detached mirth as he folded his arms into the sleeves of his ceremonial robes. Gifted to him by Plaga for the more ritualized aspects of Jen'jidai life, as well as affairs of state, they were the lone hint of decadence he allowed himself to hold on to. Try as he might, Alkor was never able to convince his master that shows of granduer were unnecessary during times of brotherhood.
What we wear is of little concern to the others.
On the contrary, my apprentice. They are always watching, just as they galaxy is always watching. They are waiting, biding their time to see what we will do. The moment they see weakness in us, they think themselves above us. We do not dress to impress, Alkor; we dress to remind them that they will not find weakness in us.
Alkor smiled faintly as his bony fingers dug slightly into the meat of his right arm, unseen by the others. The pain reminded him of his place. These matters were trivial, but they served a greater purpose. "In the end, that's what all businessmen amount to, is it not? Wordplay is not my battlefield, Thursby. Coins are not my currency."
He felt Hevn's eyes burning into him, but Alkor's gaze held Solomon's unwavering. "Tell them your new player has not broached a deal with the guild yet," he considered his words carefully for a moment, and then added, "and be sure to advise them that price is not an object."
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Nov 9, 2015 9:57:48 GMT -8
Xeonon fixed his gaze on Alkor for the first time since the duo arrived. Staring into his eyes he wondered at how different the two were. Bedrovelese was tall and scary, an imposing man. Alkor was not. If it was not for his purple eyes and ugly tattered clothes he would look like any typical human from Corellia. Yet of the two Alkor worried him more.
You want Bespin. I want the Tibanna. The galaxy is in a near constant state of war these days, and with the dissolution of the Empire hundreds of thousands of worlds will want weapons. They wont work without the gas.
Word play at one point was not his forte either. For years he had dreaded it, preferring to solve his problems with the sword. Over time though he had learned it figuring out its finer points so that he could further himself. A blade can only get you so far in the galaxy. It had taken him decades to learn that truth; the galaxy was run by the rich. By the bureaucrats, and by the way of the word. It was how you elevated yourself and others to positions of power.
Coins arent your currency but they soon will be. They will resist me until their dying breath but you two, well you are unknown to them. I can back you, both of you either anonymously or not and you can purchase the majority of the mining outfits here. You then have pseudo control of the planet and its policies. I buy out you two and keep your in charge, with my foot in the door the rest of the mines will fall to me and then the whole of Bespin is yours.
Closing his eyes for a moment longer than necessary he stared back pointedly at Alkor.
Ours
He was not an outcast in former Imperial Space, the Republic would not have him or if they did he would be executed for war crimes. Same with the Imperial Knights. It was true that he could survive on his own but survival isnt living. He could hide in the rocks around Hoth and die an old rich man. Or he could decide the fate of the galaxy through both the sword and word. He could throw his lot in with the Dark Jedi and shape the planet and things as he saw fit. As they wanted.
That is of course unless you would rather go the quick route. Do a coup take the planet by force kill the leaders and alert the galaxy to your goals. Either plan works for me.
Ideally he wondered if it was wise to speak like this in a public place. Usually this was the talk that was done behind closed doors in smokey rooms. Even though there were few ears listening there were a few eyes turning his way. Looking not at the two he was with but at him it was more just as a curiosity. Some rich Outlander who wanted to try and get rich off Tibanna mining. If they only knew the truth.
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Nov 13, 2015 5:00:37 GMT -8
Beneath his hood Hevn grinned until he felt his jaw creak in complaint at the stress of it. Eyes glowering as bright and furious as ever.
Agreeing to such a partnership empowered them both immensely. Hevn had found Solomon an impeccable ally thus far. Even with his back to the wall in a firefight he did not surrender the hacking droid at the bank. He came when called to this endeavor most graciously.
It seemed all three of them were playing a brand new game at the casino at the table with the highest stakes. A planet. Men of the sword did not manipulate or maneuver positions. They took their rightful place in the world as rulers and shed the blood of any who challenged otherwise. Certainly both Hevn and Alkor could take the city by dark and leave it in silent ruin before the sun rose. With Solomon even more likely, though of the three he would least likely approve of slaughtering them all in their sleep. Taking anything, from anyone was only a question of necessity with a Jen'jidai. For Hevn alone to pull a stunt like Muunilinst was one thing, but for a rebuilding group the attention could not be afforded. Not until they were stronger could their face be shown, and this was if they ever chose to again.
In a low gruff voice Bedrovelse tilts toward Alkor.
"I find his terms agreeable brother."
Being in control of the gas meant everything. If you were the prime weapons salesmen you always knew who had what arsenal. Who or what to watch when gearing up for war and revolution. An eye on the future of the galaxy in the palm of their hands.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Nov 28, 2015 11:19:38 GMT -8
Excellent
Interlocking his fingers in front of him Xeonon nodded.
Dont worry, when we do this I will be dressed much more fashionably.
Reaching into one of his pouches he pulled out a small golden chip he flicked it onto the table in front of his two accomplices.
That is a chip for one of my bank accounts, right now there is more credits on it then most people in the Galaxy will ever see. Take it. Make yourselves presentable. Remember you are not going to be going into battle but you will be in front of cameras, so buy suits, ties and all that professional shit.
Smirking he tried to picture Hevn in a suit. The tall rebuilt man would appear more ugly than ever, and would probably detract from all of it if things werent played right.
We better come up with some reasons as to why you would want the Tibanna and how you lost your jaw and skin.
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Post by Alkor Centaris on Dec 2, 2015 0:00:11 GMT -8
Alkor's agreement was passive dismissal more than proper sentiment. Unlike other dark force users of renown who took the words "more machine than man" literally, the Jen'jidai carried himself with a mechanical aloofness that resounded in every word, and in every motion. When he shrugged, it seemed he weighed the suggestion and deemed it unworthy of a true response.
"He was a miner," Alkor replied when Xeonon suggested they find reasons for their grotesque, disfigured forms. "Unfortunate accident involving the equipment. Large settlement, bought his way out of the mines and into the business. Made some smart investments and got on the board of directors with your company. But that wasn't enough for him. Rarely is. He wanted to make it big on his own. This is his big break."
His violet eyes moved from one man to the other as the story flowed from him expertly. Deceipt was a tool of the assassin, and one he employed frequently in service to the Black Guard. After the multitude of schisms within the Order, his place as apprentice to C'thulu shifted and became master murderer. When they needed someone put down, they sent Centaris. Quietly, loudly- it did not matter. The end always came.
Death ran in the family.
Alkor waved his hand to dispel their gazes. "I am a hired guard to both of you. That will dissuade their interests in my armament and give me free reign to step in if things become disagreeable." It also meant that Alkor would not have to dress overtly, which was a societal convention that strained him.
"I apologize for leaving you to the wonderful world of fashion, Hevn." Alkor grinned.
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Dec 3, 2015 5:04:46 GMT -8
Hevn's eyes fell on Xeonon as he spoke, wondering whether he missed a physical cue from Alkor. A nod, a shrug. Alkor was always a man that chose his words carefully if he chose them at all, and he was now finding that wearing a hood obscured his ability to read Alkor at all.
Bedrovelse's eyebrows raise at the mention of suits. The smirk on Solomon's face reflected the humor that bubbled up under his subdermal armor. Hevn once wore suits like a champion, but that was before every bone in his body got smashed in a tomb. When he was of Ensolican build, not as a mechanized terror. Robes and cloaks did not hide his stature in this form, but they did conceal the make of that form. Metal and dark spells.
There was a wariness in him as to fetching a suit in this town. A wariness that faded as his arrogance replaced it. If he could not find a droid to tailor him he would simply erase his visit from the mind of whomever had to get it from.
Hevn nods along as Alkor brings to light a solution for his background. At the making of a joke Bedrovelse could not help but chuckle at the image of himself in his own head.
"Am I supposed to pretend I'm fat.....or ripped?"
Hevn was broadest at the shoulder, with thick upper arms and legs. Anything he wore would basically hang off of him, which was why he preferred his robes and custom armor.
Bedrovelse flexes for a second in jest. His robe wooshing with dramatic effect as he curls it before laughing and dropping it back into his lap.
"What madness." Hevn whispers, shaking his head.
Hevn slides his hand toward the gold chip and grasps it.
"I don't suppose you passed by a place I could find some professional shit?"
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Dec 4, 2015 13:55:45 GMT -8
It was always nice to see sarcasm fly over peoples heads. Now was no different.
The galaxy is a big place, as long as you look professional I could care less. The whole cloak and hood thing is super obvious you are hiding something. Fashion changes wherever you are. I can introduce you to one of the local big shots, and just copy how he looks.
He rather enjoyed Alkors idea, if not original it was believable. What was odd about it was the fact that the man was content to be the hired help. Everyone had a part to play, but the chances of this whole thing going belly up where slim. These people had known luxury for most of their lives. They had either come into it, or were just so old it was second nature. They wouldnt want to do anything to endanger their money.
Is there a time table on this move? Or can it just happen naturally?
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Post by Alkor Centaris on Dec 5, 2015 20:19:09 GMT -8
"Natural integration is most effective, because it gives us time for preparation," Alkor replied as he glanced out of either peripheral, then back to Xeonon. While his telepathy remained dormant unless he willed his consciousness to flow freely, his inborn empathetic sense was akin to poison. There was no off button; when a stray emotion introduced itself in his vicinity, he became acutely aware of it. When someone's mood changed, even subtly, he had a certain knack for noticing. This time, a young woman had entered with a pretty smile and fashionable clothes, enough to tell she was on someone's payroll.
"Welcome to Tibannapolis," she greeted them. Employees in a place like this knew better than to ask questions, but often kept their eyes open and took note of their surroundings. When she looked at Alkor and Hevn, the former knew instantly that her smile was forced. She seemed uneasy, but she was well versed in etiquette. Alkor watched her, in the fashion that he had discussed earlier. Passively, intently, and with the intent to act as a bodyguard in the event he was needed.
An image of blood blossomed at the forefront of the minds of Hevn and Solomon, a question of if Alkor should take action. If this woman should die. At the same time, since the image faded as quickly as it appeared, Alkor signed with his hands in the fashion of the Black Guard, a series of complex gestures that formed a secret language. It was a Dark Jedi secret that only Hevn would understand.
She is wary of us.
"I come with greetings from the Mining Guild," she continued. "They have instructed me to offer you food, drink, and lodgings. She watched Alkor oddly as he motioned, which he quickly masked as a stretch, then yawned. When she looked away, he turned his gaze to Hevn and his lips tugged in the slightest of frowns.
As he continued to read her, Alkor allowed his mind to open up to her surface thoughts. Platitudes and words of welcome thinly veiled the discomfort she felt in their presence, which made sense. Anyone with the tiniest fraction of force sensitivity might be thrown into discord near those seeped in the dark side with no intention of hiding it.
We should actively hide our force signatures, he gestured beneath the table once he had Bedrovelse's attention. They have latent sensitives staffed.
Alkor frowned when her thoughts shifted. ...and the short one does not trust me. Not good. Are they Sith? Have they come here to steal, or to kill? I need to report back quickly. We should notify the Jedi Watchman...
His violet eyes snapped toward the woman, and he stared intently at her. She turned to look at him suddenly, gulping down visibly. Her lips only trembled for a second. She's a good little liar, Alkor observed. Maybe even a poisoner. But not a killer.
A liability, he signed the last bit of his thought process to Hevn, never once breaking their awkward staring match. She was mezmerized by the terror she felt in his gaze. Despite not even speaking to him, she could feel the weight of countless lives bearing down on her. As the sensation of drowning came to the forefront of her mind, Alkor let go of her psyche.
She gasped for air as he allowed himself the slightest of smiles. "Thank you for your kindness," he offered as he drank back the last of his presence in the Force. She stared still, uncertain of the man before her. "I will accompany you to see about accommodations. I am the liaison for the protection of my employers, and they will only stay once I have guaranteed their safety."
"Very well," she spoke quietly and bowed to the other two men as Alkor stood. He turned his gaze backward as she stepped ahead of him.
Kill? he signed.
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Dec 11, 2015 6:13:28 GMT -8
Hevn nods along in agreement to Alkor's suggestion. Natural integration. He looks toward Xeonon to issue a questioning look.
"I would understand if you were in a time crunch though, after all."
Bedrovelse felt Alkor shift next to him, and Xeonon's eyes traveled to the edge of the table. Hevn had not cared to bother with the strangers until her wind chime pipes assaulted his ear drums with the most subtle provocation. Bedrovelse musters his might to suppress a radiant glare. Her smile was cheeky, and toothlessly fake. While some were ashamed of their dental hygiene he could tell that she was not afflicted with such misfortune.
For a split second Hevn saw blood. The direction of the force came from Alkor, as if passing a photograph quickly. Just then he saw his Brother grow unusually restless. Alkor was the sort to sit painfully still, and keep whatever silence he deemed necessary until the time was ripe to break it. As his hands moved they drew Hevn's conscious eye, while Hevn let the woman ramble on. It took him a moment to catch on to the old sign language but quickly he grasped "wary of us" and knew what Alkor had asked.
Hevn's decision was made the second she approached the table. There was no chance that someone who was not watching would approach so boldly. Not a single one of the three had beckoned her. Not one of them showed the faintest hint of recognition. She was not welcome. She had been fed to the wolves and silently Hevn hoped that whatever fool chose this fate for her wept for their sins tonight.
With each word she chose Alkor roasted her more fiercely, providing him the luxury of relaxing while he did so. Her discomfort rose with every moment she stood next to Alkor. Every time her lips flapped and her tongue flicked he could see the dirt rising and falling from her shoulder to the floor. Digging the hole deeper and deeper.
As Alkor looks to him, and she away, he tries to follow her line of sight. Hevn imagined that any one of them could take whatever back up she would bring, but that would defeat their goals here. Alkor's next sign was a frustrating one.
Fuck it all, latent sensitives. Devious and brilliant. It made sense that such an effort would be made to protect the interests here. The woman's choice of Mining Guild was practiced, and difficult for him to diffuse as the truth or a cover. In either case she was not alone.
She locked eyes painfully with Alkor and he knew he had her. Bedrovelse's essence did not take him great effort to swallow. Like a deep breath he pulls it in front around him to stifle it's glowing call.
Bedrovelse spared her so much as a greeting. A pleasantry he did not offer intruders. Only hosts, and only guests. There was nothing but the stern silence of his stare accompanying Alkor's. Bedrovelse's eyes follow Alkor as he rises and moves away. The woman expelled a huge breath of relief to be striding toward the doorway and her paces take her ahead of Alkor as he turns, Bedrovelse signs back to him.
Interrogate. Assess connected threats. Eliminate.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Dec 27, 2015 4:58:41 GMT -8
Did he have a time table? No not really, sure he had to be wary lest his past associates come for him however here at the moment he felt safe.
He watched as the woman approached the table enjoying the way her hips swayed in her pencil skirt. There was not much eye candy out in the cold reaches of the galaxy and even less above Hoth. Seeing as how Alkor took point on her he overtly raked her body with his eyes taking in every aspect. He was not looking for weapons, no her clothes were to tight to hide anything. He was just trying to make her feel uncomfortable. Trying to make her leave. As the feeling of death washed over them he countered it. He did not hide his force aura, nor did he keep it the same. Instead he changed it. Focusing on certain emotions he was able to exude how he felt, and to the under trained eye it would look like how he was. In this case he was giving in to his lust. His desire to mate with her. That formed the core of his new identity, a man who would give into his base emotions on a whim.
Very well, go with her. We will be along shortly there are just a few things we further we need to discuss before we leave.
He had no right to give Alkor permission. In this venture they were equals. The woman did not know this, and neither did anyone else who may be watching. The man had said he would be a bodyguard, a lackey and he was going to be treated like one in public.
And for the love of god man stop staring at people like that. It makes them uncomfortable.
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Dec 31, 2015 7:19:35 GMT -8
Bedrovelse shrugs.
Should he even tell Xeonon what fate he had doomed the lass to? Given his strange fluctuating...no...gyrating aura and wandering eyes he guessed that he was wishing he was getting to play bodyguard just now.
Hevn's stare was considerably less hostile now as he turns toward Xeonon.
"Next time I will play bodyguard and Alkor can stare at you like that."
Hevn ponders for a moment before the thought tumbled out of his mouth.
"The stare tends to get me through most ordeals with the all too friendly. All of their insecurities scrambling over them in a circus of struggles to keep composure and lie through their teeth simultaneously. Pleasantries are inevitable traps, and I respond poorly to intimidation. Do you believe it was a Mining Guild? My intelligence on this planet is limited as its occupying forces have been foes for many years. What attentions must I acceptably endure to fulfill my role in this plan?"
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
Posts: 2,206
Affiliation: First Order
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Dec 31, 2015 12:19:25 GMT -8
Suppressing a shudder at the thought he tried not to picture it. He could just imagine himself being stripped layer by layer from that gaze, as Alkor or Hevn pierced down to his true self. Only to be taken away and killed moments later.
Being nice is what stupid people do to hedge their bets. Or what smart people do to get what they need and I suggest you take the latter attitude. You are a smart man no? People respond well to flattery, mimmikery and all that shit. Truthfully you wouldnt have to endure any of it. You could literally but everything without showing your face, but you want the planet and so that wont do. Like I said we can start by copying the way they dress, learning the mannerisims, any odd speech patterns or idioms they have.
Puzzling his puzzler Xeonon stared ahead with a thousand yard stare before exhaling heavily
Was she with the Mining Guild? Doubtful. To my knowledge most operations on the planet are to small to be noticed by them. Unless its a power grab by them to get a foot hold on the planet like we are doing she works for someone else. What do you think?
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