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Post by Alkor Centaris on Dec 31, 2015 23:17:43 GMT -8
"Do you always eye-fuck the help?" She rounded on him the moment they were out of earshot. Alkor watched the woman lean in perilously close, her lips mere centimeters from his own. "Your boss knows how to tell a girl what he wants, but you- you're the type of guy who makes the ladies beg for it, aren't you?" She smirked, deep brown eyes staring back into distant cerulean.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice a cryptic monotone.
"Oh, don't be that way." He could feel her disappointment wash through her and give way to renewed tenacity. "What, do you like boys? I can have one sent to you. Only the best for our potential investors." Her sweet smile was back, barbed with caution. "Just help me to help you. We're both protecting the interests of our employers."
"I'm not interested in anything you have to offer me." Alkor gestured down the hall, in the direction they initially started off toward. "The faster we get to where we need to be, the sooner you can be back to them to ask all these questions."
"I think you should be a bit more selfish," she decided, and the girl draped an arm around Alkor. She blushed up into his face, but he glowered down at her with unflinching apathy. He could sense the elevation of her heartbeat. Whether for fear of the unknown or sexual attraction, the Jen'jidai was uncertain, but he could sense fear beneath the surface. "Take what you want. They're only paying you by the hour."
She led him toward a door off to the side of the hall, and Alkor followed her into a quaint room full of cushions and stocked with drinks. "Take what I want, you said?" He smiled. She saw his lips perk up, and she smiled in turn. He let a hand move to her neck, up to her cheek, and he cupped it thoughtfully. The girl gasped.
"Yes," she whispered breathlessly. "Whatever you want."
His eyes flickered shut, and he bowed his head. "Wha-" the girl let out a sound of confusion, then convulsed. Alkor shuddered for a moment as the darkness took hold, crawling through his veins and clawing into her mind. The girl let out faint, feeble sounds of terror as he rifled through her thoughts. "Huuur..."
Drool began to seep from the edges of her lips as her jaw slacked. Her pupils dilated and her cheeks began to pale. "Please..." she gasped as the agony took hold. "Please, god, stop!"
Alkor sighed, a bit disappointed as he let her go. She slumped to the floor, gasping for air. "What the hell was that?" she asked in a soft, shivering voice. "What did you do to me?"
"Why," he smiled, and the darkly clothed man crouched down next to her with a broad smile. "I just did what you asked me to do. I took what I wanted." She looked at him, eyes full to the brim with question. When the realization came, she began to crawl backward. She scurried away from him in terror.
"I've got to warn the others," she cried out.
As she got to her feet, the door began to slowly shut. She raced toward it, heart pumping. The metallic clang of its seal greeted her. "No," she sobbed. "No, no, no!" She turned around, staring back at the man in the center of the room. His smile never changed. "It's not supposed to be like this." She slid down the door with tears streaming down her cheeks, and she beat against the metal with her fists until they burned. "Please..."
Snap-hiss!
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134 
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Jan 6, 2016 10:43:55 GMT -8
He felt the death resonate through the force as the shuttle descended, eyes closing in the closest feeling to pleasure he was capable of as the soul plunged screaming into Bogan's embrace. He felt the fear of the pilot next to him as his own power stirred in response, grasping and hungry, and ignored it. He'd quickly grown accustom to the stink of fear while living aboard his ship; though he'd fed only a few times upon the crew themselves, they viewed him as a monstrosity, something feral and uncontrollable. At first it had been amusing, but now, when it didn't fail to register completely, it was simply tiresome.
Registering the craft and finding an open berth proved to be a relatively brief chore, and before an hour had passed Ishmael found himself standing at the bottom of the loading ramp, gazing restlessly at the crowd as his other, less mundane senses quested outward in search of the echoes left behind by the throes of a violent death. Catching the scent was child's play- such a trail was often recognizable to one who walked the path of the necromancer centuries after the fact; now, mere hours later, they may as well have posted neon signs throughout the corridors.
He moved with renewed vigor, feeling the burdens of his journey dissipating as the prospect of a reunion with a being he could call an equal solidified in his mind. Though it was difficult to tell what kind of reception he would receive, every step that put him further from the lesser creatures he'd been forced to employ and rely upon felt like it was taking him in the right direction.
The sorcerer made his way through the winding corridors studded through the complex at a reserved pace, taking time to gather the dark side to him and focus its energy. Even as he used it to guide him toward the one he sought, he cast it outward, blunting the attention of the sentients who crossed his path, scrambling their thoughts and leaving a trail of slack-faced wanderers in his wake.
Finally he found himself before a sealed blast door, the presence within a void he couldn't hope to mistake. He let his own signature swell, an invitation Alkor couldn't hope to ignore.
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Post by Alkor Centaris on Jan 6, 2016 11:02:33 GMT -8
Alkor felt the presence before it arrived. The darkness there lingered, reminiscent of his fallen master. There was a certain sensation like death, but mostly, the absence of life. Sheev Palpatine had said once that the Dark Side of the Force was a pathway to many abilities some considered to be unnatural. Many Sith since the Emperor had delved into the mystery far deeper, and they had harnessed powers that defied not only nature, but the rules of the galaxy as they were taught from childhood.
C'thulu Plaga had learned more of those secrets than any many, dead or alive. Men who learned to steal themselves back from the jaws of death permeated something that decayed. Alkor tasted that rot in the Force now, the same as he had in the presence of his master. During the time they spent together, his senses became refined. Aspects of the Force distilled themselves with specific palates, like fine wine. Distinct and easily picked apart by a conissuer, this particular vintage fascinated Alkor Centaris.
Not because of the power, but because of the man he sensed at the epicenter.
When the door behind him creaked slowly open, Ishmael would see his brother seated in the middle of the room. The metal floors and walls were decorated now with the ichor of his victim. Crimson stains pocked the formerly austere decorum, remnants of a short lived struggle. Her body hung from the wall adjacent to the door, visible upon entry. It was limp and headless.
"My master taught me once," the calm, eerily focused voice of the Jen'jidai filled the room despite how quiet he was. "That the mind and the body are separate entities. What the flesh knows is not the same as what the spirit does."
He stood slowly, turning to reveal his blood soaked, skeletal arm. In his hand, two sunken eyes stared back into Alkor's own from within her severed head. "Were you followed?" he asked simply.
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Jan 6, 2016 11:28:02 GMT -8
He didn't answer right away, struck not only by the oddness of the question but by the memories that naught but the sound of a voice could bring roiling to the surface. Instead he stepped into the room, surveying the carnage impassively as an absentminded tendril of force energy caressed the ground in front of him, gently clearing the gore from his path.
Finally he met the Jen'jidai's gaze, gleaming amber meeting cerulean from beneath raised eyebrows. "Your presence here is a secret? Odd..."
Just what had transpired in his absence? Ever since his return to the physical realm it had felt alien, changed beyond recognition. Alkor's implication of extenuating circumstances only served to strengthen the notion, and leave him feeling like he was on his back foot.
Finally the sorcerer shrugged. "I wasn't. I'm decidedly uninteresting to the denizens of this galaxy these days." He smiled without amusement and folded his arms beneath his cloak. The last time he'd held any position of note seemed like eons ago. At the time, his dealings with the Tarisian Empire, the assassination of the Emperor's wife, his bid to take total control of the faction from its weakened, grieving leader, they had all seemed terribly important. Looking back, the pettiness of it all was staggering. To say he didn't miss the limelight would be a bit of an understatement.
Yet it appeared he had stumbled back into the game just as easily as he'd abandoned it. It was difficult to suppress a sigh.
"Your arm- was it taken, or given in exchange?" the sorcerer suddenly asked, pointedly. There was no mistaking the deathly touch of sith magic, and as always, his curiosity proved insatiable when it came to the subject.
It occurred to Ishmael shortly after he'd spoken that his time away from the galaxy had perhaps dulled his manners.
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Post by Alkor Centaris on Jan 6, 2016 12:29:02 GMT -8
The transfixed gaze of his victim shifted from Alkor to Ishmael, imploring the newcomer to end her torment. The Jen'jidai in turn glanced up to meet Ishmael's own gaze, offering a mirthless smirk in response to the question. "I doubt the people of Tibannopolis would be thrilled that one of their own was made an unwitting focus for a Sith ritual. Some things are better left clandestine, don't you think?"
It deferred the actual question to the more obvious fact that Alkor had murdered a woman, but it also brought forward the more pressing point. "Doubtless you've stayed up with matters of media. The situation on Muunilnist?" Ishmael would have recalled the Dark Jedi occupation of the Banking Clan from his time working with Bedrovelse on Vapaad. The legendary fall of the Jen'jidai would have rippled in tales throughout the galaxy.
Sending a planet back into the Dark Ages made headlines. It was sickening, the way lesser creatures took more interest in matters of society than the toils and trials of greater men. "After Hevn and I finished our business there, we came here." He flicked his wrist and discarded the skull, which clattered to the floor. It sounded as though it sighed in relief.
Ishmael asked about his arm, and Alkor narrowed his eyes. They burned a cool violet color now. "Unfortunate miscalculation." His toils into the ritual magic were ultimately disastrous, and it made him further distrustful of delving into the Force. His ideals became firmer as his experience tempeted them. "I was bound by an oath. Blood and blade. I attempted to undo the oath, and the power of it stole my flesh. It robbed the breath of life from my arm, and left this as a warning. Fulfill the oath, or lose more than just an arm. Thankfully, that Oath has been made fulfilled."
He gestured toward Ishmael to enter. "Close the door. This needs to be cleaned up."
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Jan 6, 2016 13:59:55 GMT -8
Ishmael absorbed the information in silence, contemplating the greater truths hinted at by the facts given him. That Alkor's attempt had backfired was unsurprising- few things were stronger than an oath given by a being of power, in this world or the next. What did surprise him was Alkor's ability to contain the damage to a single limb. That alone was an impressive feat, unfortunate though the results might be.
"Taken, then," he murmured to himself.
The rest was of lesser interest to him than discovering the details of this particular piece of magic: the parameters of the oath, for instance, and exactly what had triggered its activation. Often, intent was just as important as action, especially with more powerful oaths- such as those taken by the Jen'jidai. Funny, that the cost imposed by his last venture into magic's embrace would only serve to strengthen his thirst for knowledge.
Ah, but to say that it was of lesser interest was not to imply that it was of no significance. Alkor's casual mention of Bedrovelse set the necromancer's heart to thudding. He'd assumed the man dead, lost just like the rest of the Dark Jedi. But if he was back, and working with Alkor, well, then the only surprise was that they had thus far only laid waste to a single world. Perhaps his return to the galaxy was not so poorly timed as he had thought, after all. Perhaps great things were afoot.
Perhaps galactic life approached yet another precipice, and perhaps the sorcerer could provide the necessary nudge in the correct direction.
His forefinger twitched, prompting the door to hiss shut behind him as he stepped further into the room.
"I have been...away, for some time, and only recently returned to this plane, but you are correct in assuming I'd heard. I believe official credit is being given to some rogue Mandalorian faction or another, however. So, the last two Dark Jedi- to my severely limited knowledge, admittedly- return, only to lay waste to their ancestral stronghold. A maneuver to fill your coffers and obliterate a legacy of failure...quite the fresh start, if I say so myself."
"You mentioned a ritual?" he prompted after a moment, wondering how much Alkor would be willing to divulge.
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Post by Alkor Centaris on Jan 6, 2016 14:22:07 GMT -8
"Merely a series of questions that the living iteration proved unwilling to divulge," Alkor replied earnestly. "It seemed that when there was nothing left to lose, she became far more forthcoming." The hooded Jen'jidai frowned at the hanging corpse and considered it carefully. It would be an arduous task, but Hevn had asked for discretion in his dealings. Ultimately, it served them better to get their hands dirty than to compromise their cover so early on.
Alkor moved forward quietly and loosed the cadaver from its position on the wall and let it fall. It slouched against the metal and Alkor remained quietly thankful he had opted for his lightsaber in removing her head. The ritual itself had required more mutilation that he preferred, so there would still be a great deal to do. "Once we meet up with Hevn, you can find out more. It depends on how interested you are in joining with us. Despite our ties, I am not going to give you information that can be used against my allies. I apologize if you view that as a slight."
He began to clean the mess along the walls with fabric from the victim's clothing, soaking up blood. His jaw clenched as he worked, thoughts racing as he kept his senses open to any passers by. "I doubted that I would see you again. What directed you to Bespin?"
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Jan 6, 2016 14:50:12 GMT -8
Amused, Ishmael just shrugged and said nothing. A rustle of fabric accompanied his move to the room's adjoining refresher station. It was a spartan facility- shower stall, medicine cabinet, toilet. Despite this a quick search through the cabinet produced what he sought: a sonic scrubber. Device in hand, he returned to the living area and crouched near one of the more sizable collections of gore littering the apartment. With quick, steady strokes he began to cleanse the stains. Dried blood and curds of flesh alike dissolved into flakes beneath his ministrations, and despite the absurdity of it the sorcerer found himself enjoying the activity, muscles coiling and stretching without pain or fatigue for the first time since before he first fell sick.
After a few minutes passed he spoke, his movements unbroken. "In the past, I possessed nothing even resembling what might be referred to as sincerity. That is no longer the case. Believe it or not, I hold no designs on you and yours either way; my interest was purely academic."
He paused to shed his cloak, tossing it to the nearest blood-free space of the floor before rolling his sleeves up to the elbow. His burned, blackened fingers curled into fists and relaxed several times before he knelt down to resume his labors. Black hair fell down in ragged sheaves to conceal his expression of singular concentration.
"As for why I'm here..." he paused, realizing he didn't have an answer that would satisfy him, were he in Alkor's position. "I returned to find the faces I knew had disappeared. The galaxy seems strangely empty, populated by disparate factions that would give me no quarter. I wandered the hyperspace lanes for a time, but the company of groveling, lesser mortals quickly wore thin, and then I sensed you."
At that, he had to laugh. He had commanded armies in conflicts that had torn apart entire systems, masterminded the rise and fall of a dozen factions, faced off against the best warriors the galaxy had to offer and prevailed...and now he sounded like a lost little puppy. As his chuckling subsided into silence rather than the rasping cough he'd grown so accustomed to, the magister sat back on his heels.
"So, Bedrovelse is here as well. I confess I thought him dead and gone, like the rest. News to the contrary is welcome. So few of the truly powerful remain on this plane; perhaps the galaxy isn't as empty as I originally thought..."
"You mentioned my interest in joining you. That...is a path available to me? I'm surprised."
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Jan 6, 2016 15:45:07 GMT -8
Being nice, was how nice people hedged their bets, Bedrovelse considered quietly to himself. Bedrovelse preferred to place his bets with boots on necks, consequences prepared for traitors and weaklings. Though Xeonon was right in correcting his thinking and steering him toward perception and deception, Hevn found it hard to shake his blood soaked crusading ways. Solomon was perfectly correct, and it was how Hevn executed the heist in the first place. Getting chummy with Solomon, Faust, and eventually even Alkor as he had to navigate a battlefield of personalities, motives, and loyalties. Something he would need to consider again, and focus astutely upon.
With a stifled grunt Hevn nods in agreement with Solomon's words.
"If you doubt her connection to them, our options are dangerously vast. Force users in some capacity. I sensed many upon my arrival, but none as strong as you when I came to find you. Whether Jedi, Sith, or Imperials is beyond me. I doubt Jedi would leave but a girl to deal with the likes of us....though Jedi lack a certain....brightness... that makes their alignment quite ironic. That being said, if my aura is loud enough to bring them sniffing so easily, I must conceal it."
Bedrovelse closes his eyes, and clears his mind. Qey'tek meditation was about drawing his own infectious tainting presence back into himself. Drawing it back through his pores into the confines of his labyrinth mind and heart. As one of his strongest skills, it took only a few moments of concentration before Hevn's signature shrunk from all but the faintest mark by which only those who suffered his presence in extent could identify him. Solomon would be able to feel his presence swell and then suddenly shrink before being stifled like a flame stomped out. As he opens his eyes he collects the force to himself. Subduing his signature and feeling out toward Alkor.
With his aura pulled around him like a blanket, it was as thought trying to sift through a subdued world. As though the sights, sounds, and feelings were all muffled. Whispers and shuffles instead of shouts and the pound of feet. Following the inky putrid trail of one of his own was harder than one thought with such effort being made to conceal himself. Suddenly he felt the woman disappear. Like a pawn toppling and removed from the chess board. Alkor was more quick and efficient than predicted, thought something was amiss. Keeping him out and distracting him longer than Bedrovelse anticipated. Perhaps he was collecting further information from her corpse, or disposing of it wisely. In both capacities Hevn had implicit trust for Alkor, and wasted no effort to be uncomfortable in the wait. Patience was a strong virtue in the Jen'jidai.
"Fortunately my grace is measured in necessity. It is well for me that these are noble, greed driven people whom I understand quite well. I should have less trouble immersing than I will have remembering not to throw my power around. How do you stay sharp hiding on that asteroid pretending to be one of....Hevn scans the room for a moment addressing all of the non sensitives....them?"
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
Posts: 2,206
Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Jan 21, 2016 8:20:46 GMT -8
I could be wrong it does happen. Thats the thing though, the galaxy is vast and it really could be anyone all three of us have enemies and the chances of stumbling upon a random fledgling force user here isn't high.
Thats not to say it couldnt happen. Maybe someone really did just want to meet them and he had an empath or mind reader in their employ. It was rare but it did happen. Jedi, Sith, Imperials, hell maybe it was the mining guild; it really doesn't matter who the woman worked for. It was enough to know that their presence here was already well known despite it being such a short time.
Hiding yourself wasn't necessary.
Standing up from the table he wiped his hands and reached into his back pocket leaving a credit chit on the table. Since the attack on Muunilisnt it was impractical to carry around hard credits. It would have taken a wheel barrow full to pay for his meal alone.
I wasn't sharp. Except for one instance things were quiet there it was nice for a little bit but it wasn't for me. You have no idea how grateful I am you found me there, things haven't been this exciting for a long time. Come on lets go get me out of this armour and meet us some of these nobles.
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Jan 28, 2016 5:56:12 GMT -8
Bedrovelse never let random enter the equation. At the first sign of such bold approach Hevn's mind raced with suspicion. Everyone was always up to something in this great big galaxy they were taking part of. Every single breathing soul was a cog in a machine that played a part. It was advantageous to aim for the large cogs, but some times you needed to snake your way up the system. The trouble was keeping your head down in a universe where most organizations with power preferred you dead.
Hevn stands from the table to join Solomon.
Grateful was an interesting choice of words. How many people in his long history would say that of him? Few. If any. Hevn had never heard such words spoken to him by a man of Solomon's nature. Perhaps this was why. Xeonon didn't fear trouble.
"Grateful? Curious."
The words came quickly, almost a whisper.
Bedrovelse's comm crackles to life. His ear fills with the sound of the rough Shistavanen's voice.
'Ey boss. A flurry of probes has just rained on the planet. Enough to be seriously militant. What is your status?
Bedrovelse looks toward Xeonon with a harsh scowl rippling over his brow and lips.
"Currently secure. Things on the platform seem calm. Probes all over Bespin. What the hell?"
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jan 28, 2016 16:12:15 GMT -8
*Mushroom Cloud walks around surveying the area, as usual skin peeling all over from excessive radiation exposure. How nice it was to be back among the conditions that formed his mind and are eating up his body like a rat at a piece of cheese. Nothing says 'good morning Bespin' more than nuclear expousure*
"Well Hevn forbid. And Ismael and Solomon!!!!!! Like posting in the Bible.... "The Book of Mushroom." Hummm.... Mushrooms... not that kind. Past that, I am a union leader. Quack,Quack,Quack. The workers rise! Power to the people, la de da de da. It's a rich tapestry. And with the IF backing us up, not to mention that landing here would be like a Ku Klux Klan member dropping into Harlem in full regalia to have coffee, that's that. Wow that was rough..."
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
Posts: 2,206
Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Jan 28, 2016 17:06:11 GMT -8
Raising his eyebrow at the circumstances it seems Bespin was a real hot piece of real estate. At least two parties possibly a third were interested in it. There was no way it was just a circumstance.
Well who did you piss off this time?
He was kidding obviously. Reaching around onto the small of his back Xeonon grabbed hold of his lightsaber. He just held onto it but he looked around superstitiously. Maybe they werent after Hevn or Alkor. Maybe they were after him. Perhaps he had misjudged the Imperial Knights and their resources.
Perhaps its time we find Alkor and bolt out of here. Come back in a few days and if the world is under a new regime well; the first few weeks of new leadership are often the most dangerous in the galaxy.
Although his words and actions spoke of cowardice he had no fear. Whatever this was, whoever this was had made a fatal flaw in coming here.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jan 28, 2016 20:54:01 GMT -8
"Hot??? Ain't that kindda a pun considering where we're sitting?" And dig the font; underlined, Italics and bold; makes one feel powerful... well for a second or two then it passes"
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An Tiarna Dubh
Member
Is minic a bhris beál duine a shrón ~ It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose
Posts: 841
Affiliation: Are you joking? the IF
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Post by An Tiarna Dubh on Jan 30, 2016 1:21:33 GMT -8
*Ring ring ring....  ::Shroom... been I while since I had a shroom... hummm. Should talk to the docs about that. May help with the psychotic episodes, which are becoming more and more sporadic. Ok. The deal. When the IF had Bespin before a wheelbarrow with some drunk holding a slingshot was about all the defense the place needed. Only an idiot walks in there looking for a fight with the locals. We have this trigger happy wingnut parked in orbit..... Any other trigger happy wingnut willllllll never be sent here by anybody in there right mind.... Nuclear plant & a city of glass hanging over a gas giant. That nonsense about "Battles of Bespin" sounds like some twisted science fiction movie. Real people... well our a chairde... ain't that stupid. Where was I.... Right! Manaan. Ok forget the last few words there. Oh look the emperors back. *Waves* Looking a bit dull there Pulpandtime; you need some sun. *Clearing his throat* No doubt this is a self serving power move.... But as I see it alllll can profit from such. So.... We have Manaan... add Bespin as a free protectorate and this will accomplish? One hand washes the other... and with those hands we can choke the life wind outta anybody in our way..... So you get it? Talk with the brothers there.... any 'sisters' if needs be all politically correct.... Guess I best say hermaphrodites too.... This is getting painful. MY Comm. bills are gonna break the IF. Oh dig what we're callin this operation: the IF strikes back.... Ok... ya, that sucks. Anyways you got the point. Maith go leor!!:: |
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Jan 31, 2016 5:16:15 GMT -8
Raising his eyebrow at the circumstances it seems Bespin was a real hot piece of real estate. At least two parties possibly a third were interested in it. There was no way it was just a circumstance. Well who did you piss off this time? He was kidding obviously. Reaching around onto the small of his back Xeonon grabbed hold of his lightsaber. He just held onto it but he looked around superstitiously. Maybe they werent after Hevn or Alkor. Maybe they were after him. Perhaps he had misjudged the Imperial Knights and their resources. Perhaps its time we find Alkor and bolt out of here. Come back in a few days and if the world is under a new regime well; the first few weeks of new leadership are often the most dangerous in the galaxy. Although his words and actions spoke of cowardice he had no fear. Whatever this was, whoever this was had made a fatal flaw in coming here. " Impossible." Hevn lays a solemn gaze upon Xeonon."Iron Fists. I was their spy and assassin once, though Dubhs are historically unpredictable, and I'm not entirely sure which one of them would revive the clan. I must speak with Alkor before committing to retreat, though I am in agreement. I will try to feel him out." Hevn closes his eyes and bows his head slightly.The condensed aura dropped from around him and he threw it outward as far as he could feel. Hevn knew he wouldn't have gone farther than necessary. He had to be close. Like Hevn, Alkor's aura was a tainted one. A dark cloud that could be focused on to filter through the rest. Bedrovelse's eyes snap open and his feet carry him toward the door, to pass into hustling people traffic. Trying to hold on to the sensing of his long lost brother at the forefront of his mind. |
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Mórrígan Dubh
Member
Posts: 680 
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Feb 20, 2016 15:46:57 GMT -8
*A Sentinel lands. Togorian Commando pile out and immediately take to unloading 40 gallon barrels. An ugly fat fella scratching his crotch a lot speaks*
-Wide Load-
"Plumbing."
*The main tank of the septic system is isolated and Wide Load cracks it open with his own hideous crack flashing in the general direction of any foolish enough to be curious. Oh the humanity. After some time Wide Load looking a Tog nods*
-Wide Load-
"This is gonna be a blast"
*Work continues*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Feb 20, 2016 16:21:24 GMT -8
*Work is completed. The main septic tank is packed with 100 40 gallon drums of nitrogen explosives with detonators. 2 Togorians with backup manual detonators are left behind. The remaining five and Wide Load board the Sentinel and depart.*
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Zalus Bidan
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Affiliation: Goes where the money is
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Post by Zalus Bidan on Mar 28, 2016 17:19:37 GMT -8
Fortunes favorite landed in the hangar of Tibannopolis, KIA and TBA stepped out nearly before the ship came to a full landing. They were armed to the teeth but found this former IF facility unoccupied. The most educated guess was that the IF packed up and headed back to Manaan for a final stand off. The two had no trouble finding their way to the main control deck. They headed inside the control deck and started their task. They began the protocols to signal Kolga that they had Tibannopolis under his Cartel's control. Zalus had not yet gotten access to Cloud City. The two of them were sure that Zalus would follow through on his end shortly.
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Post by Lone Wolf on May 8, 2018 9:33:35 GMT -8
Landing in the hangar was a cakewalk. Security was simply non-existent. Cracking the door to a small shuttle quietly was another story; this took care and time. He casually entered toying with the control panel as he sat in the navigators seat. Setting the self destruct at a half hour the man casually left. The explosion would happen, of this he had no doubt. Just how big it would be depended on chance; the blast might be contained to the shuttle he had rigged. Far more likely the small vessel blowing would set off a chain reaction and other ships in the tightly packed hanger would also be set alight. No matter he moved slow but sure entering his own ship and cranking the old beast up. He lifted off and was gone in a heartbeat |
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::Shroom... been I while since I had a shroom... hummm. Should talk to the docs about that. May help with the psychotic episodes, which are becoming more and more sporadic. Ok. The deal. When the IF had Bespin before a wheelbarrow with some drunk holding a slingshot was about all the defense the place needed. Only an idiot walks in there looking for a fight with the locals. We have this trigger happy wingnut parked in orbit..... Any other trigger happy wingnut willllllll never be sent here by anybody in there right mind.... Nuclear plant & a city of glass hanging over a gas giant. That nonsense about "Battles of Bespin" sounds like some twisted science fiction movie. Real people... well our a chairde... ain't that stupid. Where was I.... Right! Manaan. Ok forget the last few words there. Oh look the emperors back. *Waves* Looking a bit dull there Pulpandtime; you need some sun. *Clearing his throat* No doubt this is a self serving power move.... But as I see it alllll can profit from such. So.... We have Manaan... add Bespin as a free protectorate and this will accomplish? One hand washes the other... and with those hands we can choke the life wind outta anybody in our way..... So you get it? Talk with the brothers there.... any 'sisters' if needs be all politically correct.... Guess I best say hermaphrodites too.... This is getting painful. MY Comm. bills are gonna break the IF. Oh dig what we're callin this operation: the IF strikes back.... Ok... ya, that sucks. Anyways you got the point. Maith go leor!!:: 
