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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Apr 9, 2013 11:54:23 GMT -8
Bilbousa was a large port town and capital city of the planet Nal Hutta. It was considered one of the most prominent of its type on the world. Bilbousa Bazaar and Bilbousa Spaceport could be found here as possible points of interest.
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Thothrala
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Posts: 15 
Affiliation: The highest bidder
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Post by Thothrala on Apr 21, 2013 11:30:16 GMT -8
*Sitting inside His apartment, Thothrala sits at the table counting out the credits from his most recent job. It did not go perfectly according to plan. He was supposed to bring in the crime boss to the Hutt alive, but it was unforseen how many thugs he really had working for him. It did not matter though there was still credits to be had if he only brought back the Twi'leks head. Five thousand credits to be exact. It was just the amount he needed to finally buy himself a ship to get off this rotten planet....*
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Thothrala
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Posts: 15
Affiliation: The highest bidder
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Post by Thothrala on Apr 21, 2013 12:52:25 GMT -8
*A few hours later, Thothrala was clad in his Ubese armor and walking through the spaceport when he noticed in one of the bays what looked to be a D-5 Mantis. That made him stop in his tracks.*
A D-5 Mantis...now THAT is a ship that could be very useful.....
*Making his decision, Thothrala snuck into the Mantis' bay, where he saw what appeared to be the owner of the ship. The owner himself seemed to be a mercenary just like Thothrala, which didn't really surprise him considering the kind of ship it is. One thing Thothrala did realize was the perfect timing that he has with this. The other mercenary was unloading crates of explosives just as Thothrala entered the Bay and stacking them.
Thothrala didn't even bother saying anything. He simply pulled out his Westar 34 and placed a round in the group of crates the Mercenary was standing beside. That was a nice shockwave followed by a wave of fire that engulfed the Mercenary, killing him instantly. Thothrala simply grinned from within his helmet and proceeded into the Mantis. He needed to act quick before any security, or better yet the Hutt's thugs, come looking.
Thothrala runs up the steps through the gangway and into the cockpit, checking off all the systems as he saw through the forward viewport that the Thugs had indeed come into the bay and began to fire on the ship.
Once all systems were cleared, Thothrala lifted the Mantis up and shot out of the bay heading for the outer space, hoping to never have to return to this stinkhole.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 26, 2013 18:11:03 GMT -8
*Bilbousa Bazaar - Jarix's Mini Bar*
*Sitting with his back to the crowded streets of the bazaar, Khrogal sat hunched over the small bar stand, shooting back glass after glass of the swamp piss the bartender, a twiggy Rodian named Jarix, called alcohol. The massive Trandoshan didn't care, he no longer felt that his personal discomfort and opinion held no purpose any longer. All he wanted to do was forget. Forget that he still drew life into his body and that he still walked the plain of living existence. The goddess Scorekeeper no longer cared or favored him, why should he give a bucket of Hutt slime about himself too.*
*Several hours passed, Khrogal no longer needed to speak to the puny bug creature that fed him the forgetting drink. He simply finished a glass and the Rodian refilled it. Few other patrons ever stopped at the small bar stand in the center of the market bazaar, and those few who did stop by didn't stay long. Only Khrogal ever came back and stayed. Despite the location being in the most public place possible, Khrogal felt complete isolated and alone here. The noise of the other patrons didn't reach him any more, only the silent prayers and the self-destruction played in his mind.*
*As day turned to night and noise of the crowds died to that of the occasional quiet conversation of secrecy, Khrogal slowly pulled himself from the stool, stumbling a bit to catch his balance as blood flowed back into his legs. Digging into his pocket, he threw a pile of money on the counter and walked on. He and Jarix had a deal going that he would pay once a week for two weeks worth of booze. Khrogal knew he was getting swindled, but found the money worthless and so paid whatever was demanded.*
*Stumbling through the streets Bilbousa, he made his way to the spaceport where his ship was docked, where "home" was these days.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 27, 2013 14:59:31 GMT -8
*Blibousa Spaceport - Dragon's Folly*
*Winding his drunk ass up the boarding ramp, Khrogal lazily punched in the security lockdown code at the top and watched as the ramp slowly rose, frustration beginning to build up as he wished the damn thing would move faster. After a few moments, the ramp finally hissed as it sealed in place, allowing Khrogal to turn and head to his quarters/workshop. Entering the large room, the large Trandoshan began a restless pace, despite being heavily intoxicated, it was getting harder and harder to stop thinking. His thoughts ranged from desperate prayers of forgiveness to the goddess, to those of intense hatred to the Hutt whom had taken his captors life before he could, to shame for having been taken alive in the first place.*
*In his paces, his gaze kept glancing to the Chalon blade of honor he had been awarded by the Elders some years ago, now locked behind a durasteel cage meant as a precaution to keep him from destroying and throwing out the blade, while still allowing it to serve as a constant reminder of what he wished to achieve again. In that moment, rage sized hold of his ravaged heart and he rushed to the cage, digging his fingers in between the wires that separated him from the weapon and he yanked and pulled and thrashed, the wires cutting deep grooves into his fingers as he tried to rip the cage from the wall, but could not.*
*After some indistinguishable amount of time had passed, Khrogal finally gave up, his fingers ravaged and mangled by the wires yet he didn't feel a thing for now. By morning the natural regeneration of his race would be well on its way to making his hands whole again. As the rage subsided, Khrogal drifted to his cot and fell into it with a had oomf! and quickly fell into restless unconsciousness.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 4, 2013 11:47:14 GMT -8
*Blibousa Spaceport - Dragon's Folly*
*It was late into the following day when Khrogal regained consciousness and was immediately hit with a savage hangover and a muscle spasm in his neck from sleeping on the durasteel collar clasped around his neck awkwardly in the night. Rising slowly, wrapping the healing fingers of his left hand around his temples, he balled his right hand into a fist and slammed it into the wall his cot was flesh with, feeling several bones snap and fracture under the impact. As a fresh wave of pain rushed up his arm and to his nerve centers, the nagging pain in his neck and head suddenly faded, allowing his to rise slowly and stumble to the refresher, not having realized he had left yet another dent in the wall.*
*Spashing cool water over his scales, Khrogal grabbed a bandage from his med-kit and wrapped his wrist, knowing that this one would take some time to heal after multiple fractures from multiple mornings. Looking up into the fractured glass of his mirror, he saw his splintered reflection and resisted the urge to fracture it further as the self-loathing of consciousness swarmed his thoughts. Growling in frustration as he stepped out of the refresher, he grabbed the fist sized bag of trugut coins off of his work bench, the first in line of a half dozen others he had prepared after settling his deal with Jarix, and stormed out of the ship.*
*Bilbousa Bazaar - Jarix's Mini Bar*
*Taking his place at the small bar stand in the bazaar, Khrogal dropped the bag on the counter as the bug eyed Rodian slid a mug of his Hutt piss ale down to him. As Jarix counted his coins, Khrogal's datapad beeped once, he ignored it; twice, he glanced down at it on his belt but took another pull of his ale; three times, he grabbed the thing from his belt as the fourth beep rang and he pulled up the message.*
*Khrogal read the message from his old contact in a state of complete shock. Was the Scorekeeper bestowing him mercy? A feeling began to boil in the bowls of Khrogal's soul as a renewed faith began to seethe through his mind, burning away his doubt, his self-hate, his fear, his submission.*
*In one swift, fluid motion, Khrogal snatched the insect bartender by his throat, surprising the creature, causing him to drop his bag of coins on the dirt floor. Standing and pulling the worthless creature over the bar top with him, Khrogal held Jarix in the air at eye level with the one hand and whispered.*
"I gain one point in the eyes of the goddess Scorekeeper."
*Before the Rodian could scream or cry in protest, Khrogal grabbed onto the insects face with his free hand and removed his other from the creatures throat. Setting his now free hand under the insect's arm, Khrogal lifted the worthless thing up high enough for him to snap his head forward and latch onto Jarix's neck, sinking his long teeth into the soft flesh, biting with the force to rip all the way through the creatures thin neck, disconnecting the head from the body. As the blood poured down his throat, he swallowed the fleshy meat whole and reveled in the blood of a fresh kill, roaring like an untamed beast as he felt the joy of his life renewed in the eyes of the Scorekeeper.*
*Then, the taste went stale in his mouth and the blood that covered his face and bare chest turned to sticky goo against his scales as he realized that one point may be a stepping stone to greatness, but he had not yet gained any favor in the eyes of his Goddess. Then, came the rage of revelation, forcing him to throw the head and body of the Rodian into the glasses lined on shelves above the bar. Picking up his datapad from the counter top and his bag full of trugut coins and pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered as he made his way back to the spaceport.*
*Blibousa Spaceport - Dragon's Folly*
*Boarding his ship once again, tossing his datapad and Hutt money on his cot, he made his way up to the bridge where immediately began powering up all systems and setting course for Yavin, where his renewed glory awaited him at the tips of his clawed fingers.*
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Post by Alex Majere on Jan 12, 2014 10:54:52 GMT -8
Alex sat in a Cantina, drinking. Work had been spotty as of late, with the wrapping up of the War, so he was making himself available. He didn't have a reputation, but those who laid eyes on him could tell he was weathered. His own eyes were like mirrors, reflecting back onto everyone who he locked them with. His 434 blaster was out in the open, so everyone knew not to mess with him. On this planet there wasn't much else he could do. Even showing that he was armed was sometimes not enough to keep some drunken merc with something to prove from trying to pick a fight. Hopefully this wouldn't be one of those nights. He had enough enemies in enough systems. Some of them rather mad about him killing their guys in a bar.
Alex knocked back another shot of whiskey and licked his lips. While the bartender was turned around he reached behind the bar and grabbed the bottle. When the bartender spotted him, he raised his hand, and reached into his pocket, pulling out some credits and placing them where the bottle had been. The bartender shrugged, figuring as long as he got paid it didn't matter. Pouring himself three shots, he knocked each of them back. The thing about what had been done to him, his origins, was that it took a LOT of alcohol to get him buzzed, let alone drunk. It meant he could drink most people under the table and walk away only a little wobbly. The sad part was he needed to get wasted sometimes, and he spent a lot of his pay on booze.
Alex spun around on his chair, his elbows resting on the bar behind him, and watched the other patrons, trying to spot a big fish. Someone he could advance about work. The thing about most sketchy cantinas was that everyone was a merc, and everyone was looking for work. It was a little hard to stand out...
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Nase Talsey
Member
Posts: 100
Affiliation: Corulag/The Empire
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Post by Nase Talsey on Jan 13, 2014 13:27:24 GMT -8
General Talsey enjoyed making personal calls. His mission was to acquire loans for the upcoming war effort, however along the way he endeavored to find those of interesting talents who would be useful in the coming months and years. This was a long game and new pieces were continuously needed to fill in the ranks… Nal Hutta was home to a number of mercenaries, hopefully experienced veterans whose skills were only improved by the recent galactic conflicts. His CR-25 Troop Carrier was docked at the nearby star port and a continent of his guards were sent off into the city to recruit mercenaries to their cause.
Talsey preferred to act alone and as he walked the streets he noticed 3 humanoids in Republic colors. His photoreceptor eye focused in and he processed that they were members of the Republic diplomatic corps. Interesting that they were here on this planet… Talsey pulled up his hood and moved through the crowds towards them, just another robed figure in the sea of pedestrians. He followed them into a dingy cantina off the beaten track… An interesting choice, perhaps the diplomats were more well versed with this area then he had previously thought. Upon entering, the general scanned the rooms and realized what the Republic men were doing, hiring mercenaries, the cantina was crammed with armed and armored individuals of at least a dozen species and they acknowledged the arrival of the diplomats with their attention and silence.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we return with credits and new contracts! You know the drill, usual postings and the allocations for funeral expenses of course." Said the lead Diplomat a Duro. To his left and right were two more Duros, each with data pads.
Talsey watched for a few moments before approaching the three Duros. The mercenaries were stirring, some moving slowly to the center of the cantina to accept contracts and pledge their guns to the Republic's declining power. As a man of principle, General Talsey was not about to stand there and let those mercs throw their lot in with such a foolish and flawed organization. Approaching from behind, the general shrugged out his cloak, revealing his pristine Imperial uniform and several antique looking hilts attached to his belt. Selecting one with his right hand he grabbed the hilt… The lead Duro must have felt something awry and began to turn, his read eye just glimpsing the approaching Imperial officer before Talsey's thumb triggered the light foil and it's silver blade sprang forth. In a single motion the general lunged forward, his thin laser beam burning through the Duro's temple and sizzling into his brain.
The Duro cried out in shock, his eyes growing wide before the burn seared his medulla and his life force left him. By now his flankers had dropped their datapads and were reaching for their sidearms.
The General quickly withdrew his light foil from the crumpling body, brought his sword arm close to his chest, poised for another strike which he delivered with lightning speed. Another fencer's lunge shot his silver blade across his torse and buried it within the heart of the left-most Duro. Concurrently the General raised his left hand and as the palm was extended towards the right-most Duro, it glowed brightly before releasing a repulsorblast that sent the third Duro sprawling across the ground.
In a matter of moment the three Republic Diplomats were dead and the Cantina was deathly quiet.
"Now then… I hope I have your attention. The Imperial Army is offering lucrative contracts to freelance mercenaries, assassins and spies. These are short term, single rotation deals where you shall be paid handsomely for a single mission and then allowed on your way. The best of you will have the choice to continue with us, while the rest of you shall be free to pursue your own interests after your required service has been fulfilled." Said the General as he deactivated his light foil and replaced it on his belt.
The silence was broken by a Nikto, "How much are you possibly offering to make a single mission contract worthwhile?"
"10,000 credits." Replied the General with a straight face. "Are you interested?"
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Post by Alex Majere on Jan 13, 2014 14:26:02 GMT -8
When Alex spotted the Republic Diplomats he instictively turned back around in his seat. He had no love for the Republic. It was not just their ideals or what the stood for, it was all of those things. Sure he could always turn goody goody and go to Corellia, be a Jedi...But he loved the violence the Dark Side offered so much more. Besides, he never liked the idea of having to kiss up to politicians and lick boot heels. He'd rather just slit their throats. This brought an idea to his mind. Sabotage. More specifically whatever the Republic was needing freelancers for. It wouldn't pay, but it would be fun.
Alex knocked back another shot of whiskey and right before he was about to stand up, he saw someone advance on the Diplomats. Alex raised an eyebrow and watched carefully. When the clock came off, and revealed an Imperial Officer's uniform, well, he got excited. Imps did not like it when the Republic tried to bring in help they wanted as well. Alex looked a bit more closely at the badges on the man's uniform. A bloody General...Interesting. Alex remained seated while the high and mighty officer got his hands dirty. Knocking back another drink, he stood up and walked towards the man. He had no love for Imperials either, but he liked this man's style. He kept one hand on his hip, and the other near his lightsaber. Out of respect and as a warning he left no secret about his weapon of choice to the General. His dark eyes lit up slightly in the dim lighting of the cantina, and he smirked the same smart ass smirk he'd had all his lives.
"Usually don't see big wig officers getting their hands dirty in this day and age...I'm impressed, though I'm sure the opinion of lowly mercenary scum such as myself doesn't much matter to you, of course."
Alex's smirk turned into a grin. The duo of a grin and his eyes usually gave people the impression that he was a bit off balance, but he was anything but.
"Shall we discuss business here, or is it against regs for a General to drink while on duty?" Alex gestured to the bar.
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Nase Talsey
Member
Posts: 100
Affiliation: Corulag/The Empire
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Post by Nase Talsey on Jan 17, 2014 12:56:08 GMT -8
The General's photoreceptor honed in on the saber at the merc's hip. Now, that was interesting, a mercenary with a lightsaber… The mercenary was of above average height and lithe build, middle age and with steel in his eyes. The general took this in as the merc approached and motioned for Talsey to join him at the bar. Before the general followed he addressed the others. "Those who have the stomach to work for your money, head to platform 235-AGB and bring the republic corpses and their effects. You will be rewarded. Now go. I will finish this conversation then depart with those wanting to make a small fortune."
As he took a seat at the bar, the General glanced at the merc again. This wasn't an ordinary specimen. Years of military service across dozens of worlds had given Talsey an eye for scrutiny and this man was "off". He did not stand or hold himself like a soldier, and his eyes did not shift enough for a smuggler or scout. And the lightsaber… "Don't patronize me." Said Talsey in a stern voice. "I have met many lowly mercenaries and not a single one carries a lightsaber. I was hoping to find someone like you on my travels. The fodder are around for a single mission, but perhaps you are looking for something a little more.. permanent? I take it you have no love for the Republic?"
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Post by Alex Majere on Jan 18, 2014 11:55:47 GMT -8
Alex shrugged at the seriousness in the General's voice. He was used to getting that reaction from most of the people he had known. He took his own seat next to the Imperial Officer, and immediately poured each of them a shot. Raising his glass in the air as a toast, he knocked it back, and slammed it back down on the bar.
"That's because lowly mercenaries don't have lightsabers, and I'm no lowly mercenary. I don't take offense to that though. In a place like this its hard to discern the talent from the garbage."
Alex poured himself another shot and knocked it back as well. He cleared his throat, and eyed the contents of the bottle before setting it back down.
"But you are right, I don't care for the Republic. They're a bit too uptight for my liking. They take things like mass murder and destruction of Republic property too seriously."
Alex chuckled as he took a little trip down memory lane.
"Permanent, eh? Now the Empire must be desperate to try and recruit unknowns to permanent positions. You haven't even asked for my resume. How can my conscience possibly let me take advantage of your kindness without you being well informed? Not that it'd change anything. It might actually get me a raise."
Alex poured yet another shot of whiskey and knocked it back. He also began to eye the General's shot, which had been so far untouched.
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Nase Talsey
Member
Posts: 100
Affiliation: Corulag/The Empire
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Post by Nase Talsey on Jan 27, 2014 17:26:57 GMT -8
"We are desperate. Have you seen the state of things? The Republic was heralded as the answer, the solution… The Empire splintered, fragmented then one by one it's leaders died or their pocket empires fell and now we have the jedi and the bureaucrats driving the galaxy into the ground. As for your resume, it is of little importance. War is like the game of chess… you have your pawns, you have your kings and then you have the people who flip the board when they are losing. You are being hired to flip the board, to cause destruction and to slander the Republic until the people beg for the Empire to return. It is a simple enough mission with a bit more longevity than your typical merc." Said the General in a factual manner. He had yet to touch his drink, but was resolute to allow the dark jedi to drink his fill, while his mind remained unclouded.
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Post by Alex Majere on Jan 27, 2014 21:42:40 GMT -8
Alex cocked an eyebrow at the honesty of the General, or rather the straight-forwardness of his need for manpower. Alex set his glass down, and looked at the General's good eye, trying to discern any dishonesty. In the end it didn't really matter. A job was a job, and he might be able to play from a position of power. He didn't hold all the cards, but he had a few aces.
"Well I am not your typical merc. I've been around, General. I've had planets in my control, armies at my command, and watched it all burn in Orbit. I can bring the experience of a true soldier to the table, as well as lots of explosives."
Alex shifted around in his seat, and put his elbows on the bar, propping his chin up with his left hand.
"But before I agree to flipping boards, let's get down to brass tacks. What kind of benefits are we talking? Do I get a title, or shiny on my collar? Will I have to salute you? Will there be better whiskey than this where ever I'll be going? If I don't ask the hard questions now, how will I know if I'm not getting screwed?"
Alex sat straight up again, and put his hands together.
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Nase Talsey
Member
Posts: 100
Affiliation: Corulag/The Empire
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Post by Nase Talsey on Feb 15, 2014 22:46:48 GMT -8
"The fact that you once had planets under your control and I now find you here on Nal Hutta makes me suspect of your success in the longterm." Said Talsey with a raise of his eyebrow. He looked the mercenary up and down once more. The Imperial general grabbed the drink and held the small glass between his eyes and the light, allowing the liquid to sparkle with color. He stared for a few moments before bringing it to his lips and letting it slide down his throat. He placed the drink gently on the counter before he removed himself from the bar. He walked a few steps towards the exit before turning around, clearly waiting for the mercenary to follow. "You will be given the commissioned rank of Major and be put in command of a corresponding unit when the time comes, else wise you will operate alone. You may wear our uniform once you have proven yourself an asset and worthy of the honor of uniform. However, I don't believe a man like yourself will enjoy wearing any uniform but your own, am I right?" Without waiting for a reply Talsey laughed. "If you think you're going to be screwed, then don't follow me mercenary… I don't need the frail of heart to bring down the Republic."
Talsey retrieved his robe and pulled it around his shoulders, tightening the clasp and pulling the robe over his head. With a military turn he about-faced and walked out into the dingy streets, slowly making his way through the crowds towards the plan ding platform. If the dark jedi was quick he would be able to follow.
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Post by Alex Majere on Feb 17, 2014 7:38:12 GMT -8
Alex scoffed at what he took as a downcast remark at Alex's command potential.
"I ordered them to self destruct. The fact that they listened to me is a testament to my command, not the fact that they died for nothing. You can't buy loyalty like that anymore, unless you just use droids. These were flesh and blood men I ordered to their suicide, for crying out loud!"
Alex laughed evilly at the memories of watching Venator-class star destroyers burning in orbit as he left Tatooine with Enam and Itachi. He had been a lost soul after he had lost his first real home, but he had found it again in himself. Home is where the heart is after all. He looked back over just to see the General get up and leave. Alex quickly tapped himself all over to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything and quickly followed after the General.
"Hey! The only thing frail about me is that one time I slammed my fist into someone's head too hard and it broke."
Alex smirked the same smirk he always sported when he was in a good mood.
"Alex Majere, at your service, General. What should I blow up first?"
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 1, 2014 17:27:34 GMT -8
*Korra stepped off what was left of the LAAT gunship. She had only taken several steps before she heard a voice calling to her. Forcing herself not to cringe, she turned to see the large form of a Hutt, flanked by his bodyguards and assistant, come sliding towards her. She gave a slight informal bow before speaking.*
"Lord Grubo..I dindn't expect you to personally great me on my arrival."
-Grubo-
"My assets are worth overseeing. Especially when some are worth so much." *He waved a hand, quickly his personal assistant stepped forward. Reaching into a pouch on her belt, Korra removed the datacylinder and handed it over. Inserting it into a datapad, the assistant read through the information before giving the Hutt a nod. Korra watched as a smile formed on the Hutts face.* "Good, good. You have done well small hunter. Unlike your squad mates."
*Korra watched as the Hutt turned its gaze towards the gunship were the two pilots were being drug out.* "They..had a change of plans. I made sure they didn't see it through."
*The Hutt gave a low laugh before turning his large eyes on the girl.* "Then you will receive a full payment. But..there's more you wish to tell me. I can see it written on you face."
*Korra bit her lower lip. She hated how well he could read faces.* "We..uh..had a run in with a paramilitary group. They gave me a datapad, it's got a message on it for you..from the leader of the group. That's why the others tried to turn, they wanted to give them the information."
*The Hutt sat there silently. An uncomfertalby long silence in Korras mind. The assistant took the datapad and handed it to the Hutt. Taking it in his large hands he activated the device.*
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Ander Tagira
Member
Well, I'll be...
Posts: 567
Affiliation: GALSAF, Mandalore, Yavin 4 Jedi Praxeum
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Ander Tagira on May 2, 2014 0:24:55 GMT -8
When the Hutt depressed the datapad key, the lifesize holo-image of a man appeared before him, seating on a three-legged, backless folding chair, a field model common amongst soldiers of organized militaries. He was tall for a human, broad of shoulder and armored. The T-shaped visor of a helmet resting at the man's feet glinted in the dim light cast by whatever device had recorded the message. A deadly looking rifle of some make was laid across his thighs, the black metal gleaming nefariously. The area surrounding the man was limned with shadow, and the sound of rain could be heard, though none was to be seen. His face was hidden by a pillar of shadow. In his hands he was rolling a small piece of wafer thin paper stuffed with long cuts of tobacco leaf. The man began to speak as he rolled the paper gently with careful hands.
"There's a lot of people in this Galaxy." His voice was hard, weighted by the experiences of a lifetime. "We try to take care of as many as we can."
He fell silent for a long time, bringing the paper to his mouth and running his tongue back and forth across the gummed edge. He rolled the paper over and put it to his lips, lighting the cigarette with a small pocket torch. Smoke plumed from his mouth and nostrils, curling as tendrils through the air around his shadowed face. Only now was the rain made visible as it cut through the cloud of smoke.
"Sometimes, taking care of one person, means killing another." The man lifted his head now, the pillar of shadow melting away and revealing the face Korra had seen aboard her gunship mere hours before. His eyes were piercing hazel, the marks of crows feet just beginning at the corners of his lids. The only shadow that remained on his visage was that of the stubble covering his face and neck.
"Slaving, drug-running, murder...these are the marks you leave like the trail of slime that follows you everywhere you go. You get no trial, Hutt, because one is not necessary to determine your guilt." The man drew from the cigarette once more, casting a dim orange glow on his features. Smoke billowed from his lips, as if he were on fire.
"If you're any good at what you do, Hutt, you know who I am. When your fellow slugs find your corpse, they'll know their own fate as well."
With that the transmission ended, the seated man vanishing as quickly as he appeared. The datapad's holoprojector dimmed and deactivated, followed by a quiet click. Without warning, the device exploded, casting everything within several meters in a blanket of white phosphorous, a chemical compound that burned through nearly everything it touched, sloughing flesh and clinging to bone. The datapad itself, a Collocoid design, boasted a hardened backing plate similar to that of the armor used in the construction of Droideka combat droids, which had given it the ridged appearance. This shaped the charged, focusing much of the blast in the direction of the display screen, which had until that point been held by the Hutt himself. Grubo was instantly baptized in a hurricane of searing chemical heat, which would continue burning long after the Hutt was dead.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 2, 2014 15:48:29 GMT -8
*The Hutt writhed and screamed in pain as the chemical burned into him. He began to lash out in anger at anything close. Korra dodged to her right, trying her best to move quickly with her injured leg. She was not the only one to react to the danger. Guards quickly moved out of the Hutts path, all the while peeling off any armor or clothing that got splashed by the chemical. Everyone scattered away from the Hutt into safety, Korra finding her safe spot behind the LAAT. Leaning around the side of the ship, she watched as the Hutt hit the ground and drew his last breath. Silence filled the hangar for several tense minutes. The Hutts Twi'lek assistant turned in Korras direction.*
-Twi'lek-
"You, you killed him!" *Before Korra could protest the Twi'lek pointed at her and shouted for the guards.* "Kill her! Kill the assassin!"
*Korra ducked back behind the LAAT as blaster bolts from half a dozen rifles began to pelt the side of the ship. Pulling out one of her Hellfire pistols, she blind-fired around the side of the ship to scatter the crowd. She could hear them move out of her firing range to find cover. This gave her just enough time to act. Pulling out a thermal detonator from a side pouch, she tossed it into the troopbay of the ship. As quickly as she could with her injured leg, she ran for the closest exit. Behind her she could hear several of the guards sprint after her. Luckily for her the grenade went of as soon as the were level with the gunship. The explosion rocked the hanger, enveloping most of it and several guards in a ball of fire and metal shrapnel. Korra cleared the threshold of the exit just as a cloud of hot smoke and and debris covered her. Using the smoke as cover, she escaped deeper into the city.*
*Close to an hour had passed since she escaped the hangar. She quickly through the streets, her bad leg slowing her down. Her breathing became heavy as the injury began to ware her down. Breaking off from the street, she made her way down a small alleyway. She sat down and leaned up against a wall. Her leg had begun to bleed through the bandage and stiffen up. All in all this day wasn't going very well in her mind. As she sat there, the image of a man crossed her mind.*
"Ander." *She whispered. Reaching into her pocket she pulled of her comlink. Thumbing it for a moment, she began to type.*
::Message delivered, Hutt dead. On the run. Being hunted by Hutt guards. Will contact when in secure place.::
*She sent the message then leaned her head against the wall. It would take the now ex-Hutts forces some time to rally together. This would give her some time to catch her breath before moving on. Closing her eyes she let out a sigh. She couldn't stay for long. Her leg was bleeding out.*
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on May 4, 2014 20:05:32 GMT -8
*Korra had rested long enough to catch her breath before moving on. Sticking to the back alleys and side streets, she managed to avoid detection and make it across the city. She came to stop in front of an old freight container half buried in the ground. Korra checked her surroundings before prying the door open and slip inside. She slowly made her way to the back of the container, limping the whole way. At the back of the container was a small keypad hidden underneath a small ledge. She entered the correct code into the keypad and listened as a familiar click greeted her ears. Pushing against the wall, a small door opened in front of her. Stepping inside, she shut the door behind her, letting it seal once more. In front of her was a decent sized room that had been carved into the side of a hill. One wall was covered in computer screens and other surveillance equipment. While the other was sectioned off into bunk areas and storage racks.**Sitting in front of the computer screens was a human male. He had short cut hair and a less then athletic build. His right leg had knee brace attached to it. Without looking at Korra he spoke.*-Dak-"Some mess you stirred up. Killing a Hutt on their home world isn't a wise thing to do. Who paid you?" *Korra limped to one of the beds and sat down. She pulled her armor off till she was down to her shorts and undershirt. Grabbing a medkit she began to bandage her leg.* "I didn't mean to kill him. I...may have gotten involved with GALSAF. Their responsible for that. They just want me to get information for them, that's all." *Finishing with her leg, she tossed the medkit aside. She then put on a pair of dark brown cargo pants, a black sleeveless shirt and a white and black sleeveless hoodie over that. Removing her moms dog tags from her pocket, she returned them to around her neck.*-Dak-"Hmm..paramilitary does pay well. I'll keep my eyes open for anything useful. For now, you should lay low." -Korra-"Noted." *Laying down on the bed. Shed grabbed her datapad and typed a simple message to Ander Tagira.*::In safe house. Resuming mission in morning.::*She dropped in the datapad on the desk beside her and closed her eyes. The image of the man she met today drifted in her mind. This left her wondering why his name seemed so important to her. She couldn't quite place it. Opening her eyes, she grabbed the datapad again. For whatever reason she typed in a final question.*::Do you know a Selena Sekel? She served in the New Republic Army with a man named Ander.::
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Ander Tagira
Member
Well, I'll be...
Posts: 567
Affiliation: GALSAF, Mandalore, Yavin 4 Jedi Praxeum
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Post by Ander Tagira on May 5, 2014 15:09:35 GMT -8
Half a Galaxy away, Ander Tagira sat with his boots propped on a durasteel storage container filled with medical supplies, his rifle laid across his lap. His datatablet was resting on his thighs while he scrolled through a stream of images and text. Around him, several of the Brigade's upper echelon leaders were milling about, carrying on some sort of conversation Ander was only half-paying attention to.
"I don't really care what they think, per se. But when it's their territory, it makes sense to play by their rules." The voice that sounded belonged to Fenway Triumff, the Kel Dor Male that served as General Field Marshal of Airborne Commando Support's 5th Battalion. The voice that countered him came from Ike Strasky, a Hapan Male from Gallinore that led the 1st IBCT's 3rd Battalion as its Lieutenant Coronel. "But if the whole point of the SAF is to cut the red tape and bullshit to begin with, why slave ourselves to the bureaucracies of the territories we operate in? It completely defeats the purpose."
Around them, commandos were moving back and forth across the forward hangar bay of the Basterd's Hand, the Imperial-III Star Destroyer that served as GALSAF's flagship. LAAT gunships of varying models were being shuffled about by large load lifters, other vehicles were showered in bright lines of sparks as repairs were being made. Burnt metal and vehicle grease predominated the air, though fuel, sweat and the spice of food could be gleaned depending on where one stood. Ander leaned back, careful not to tip himself backwards entirely, and stretched his legs while his officers debated the finer points of GALSAF policy.
"Accountability, responsibility, that's the point. Not having enemies pop up every time we turn our backs." Triumff had taken back the floor from Strasky. "We can't afford to run a Galaxy-spanning counter-insurgency operation, which is where we'll end up if we keep poking at the balls of organizations like the Republic."
The Kel Dor's lash back at the Hapan was biting. Perhaps too much so, as Strasky pointed a finger harshly into Triumff's chest, forcing the man to step back to maintain his balance. "Everywhere we go, people don't mind having us. If people truly run their government, and they decide to take us in, then what more authority can the government possibly have? Kriff the Republic! That sorry heap of slag that passes for democracy is the reason we're in the business we're in. If we wanted to lick the boots of lesser men and watch innocent people suffer, we could have just stayed with the Jedi."
Triumff's rebreather cycled furiously as the man listened to Strasky's heated reply, unleashing one of his own once the man had finished. He stepped forward again, his dark, steel-plated eyes glaring blanking into Ike's. "We need the support of governments such as the Republic, not their ire, Strasky." The Kel Dor bit out. "As long as we keep stepping on toes, we'll find ourselves backed into successively smaller and smaller corners, with our options whittled down to fighting the very people we set out to help! Do they teach you sense on Hapes, or merely how to pretty your hair?"
At this, Ander looked up from his datapad, arching an eyebrow. Strasky and Triumff looked close to blows, and he was tempting to watch it all play out. There'd been enough infighting over the past few weeks, however, Ander decided, and clapped his gloved hands together for their attention before stretching his back. The other officers, Coronel-in-Chief Jaster Reed, of the 2nd Armored Commando Brigade's 1st Battalion, and Lieutenant Coronel Zed Mul, of 1st IBCT's 4th Battalion, looked his way, pointing over for the benefit of their arguing friends.
"No one's above or below us, Strasky, that's the point." Ander groaned as he stretched, leaning backwards over the edge of his chair before standing upright and setting his rifle aside. "So you've lost me there, though I'd have to agree, we don't lick boots. But you've all heard the expression, 'fight smart, not hard,' I'm sure..." Ander waved vaguely toward Reed. "I'm sure Reed has, he's old enough to have served in the first Hyperspace Wars." His comment drew a chuckle and an eye roll. Ander turned as he passed the four men, then sat back on top of another storage crate, his armored legs dangling over the edge.
"You're both as right as you are wrong, and I know you know why and how. Each 'a you is smart enough to figure out what the hell your respective arguments bring to the table, so reflect on that." Ander was about to continue when his datatablet flashed. He looked down; a message from Korra Sekel. Ander looked pointedly at his leaders, "Well, go reflect, you weirdos. You two argue so much I'm starting to think you want to kiss each other." If Triumff's eyes hadn't been hidden behind their protective covering, the Kel Dor may have rolled them. As it was, he had no way to tell. Strasky grinned Ander's way and the group meandered off, changing the subject of their conversation to a less polarized one.
Once alone, the Lord Commander opened the message Sekel had left him. She'd survived the Hutt's death, which was good. She could continue to be of use to them then. What followed was a short, but fairly standard field report that ended with Korra being holed up in some sort of safehouse. Ander was about to set his datatablet down when it flashed again, a new message appearing beneath the first.
Ander narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing in suspicion. Selena Sekel? He asked himself, searching through his vague memory for mention of the woman, and found none. But he did remember his time spent with the New Republic Military, first as the son of a pilot and later as a mechanic before returning as a Jedi attache from the Master Skywalker. The Lord Commander looked down at his datatablet and replied to Korra's message.
ORIGIN: A. Tagira=GC-01 ---> Korra Sekel=[Contact Listing #27]
CONTENT: No idea. A relative of yours, I'm guessing. What of it?/END
While he waiting for a reply, Ander found the access portal to the Rebel datacore GALSAF had in their possession on the main screen of his datatablet. Selecting it, he typed in his access code and waited for the tablet to link up successfully with the databank. The datacore had been stripped from an old Nebulon-B Medical Frigate Ander had tracked down during his search for his mother, some years ago. It had been in the possession of a certain traveling physician, who had gladly turned over the core in return for supplies. GALSAF had installed the core inside the Hand's own databank storage sections, along with the copies of the Yavin IV Praxeum's Archive records they'd succeeded in transferring.
He began routing through the core's records after the access program loaded, unsure of what to start searching for. He tried visitor logs, as the Nebulon-B the core had come from had once served as a mobile medical transport for the Rebellion's Echo Base on Hoth, and was bound to have a hefty list, but his search failed to find anything. He tapped his fingers against the screen for a moment, thinking of all the places and units he'd been attached to during his time as a Jedi Knight amongst the Rebellion. He started with the latest dates, working his way back from just before the Vong War to the collapse of Grand Admiral Thrawn's Empire. Finally, the name Sekel come up with a hit.
"Selena Sekel..." Ander muttered under his breath as he selected the profile highlighting the name and containing the woman's service record with the Rebel Alliance. The image that appeared was of a young woman, long dark hair and blue eyes, her face serious due to the militarized nature of the holograph. The crest of the Rebellion was displayed on a wall behind her. He began reading through her service record, tracking her career through the years until her sudden reassignment to the Core some twenty-six years before. Ander narrowed his eyes as he drudged through his mind's timeline. The Imperial Remnant had just entered a peaceful alliance with the New Republic the year before, and military activity had began to shrink as a result, which could explain Seke's reassignment. The record did not indicate any specific mission or task, and no special equipment needs were labeled. He found an address on Coruscant that marked Sekel's destination at the time, then cross-referenced it with records of the city-planet itself from before the Yuuzhan Vong War. There was little of note surrounding the residence; it was far from the Jedi Temple and political centers of the city, with no local spaceports or military installations. It was...quiet. Ander shook his head, thinking again on Korra's connection with the woman. They were likely mother and daughter, though Ander didn't remember Selena in the slightest. He'd been working with a counter-intelligence unit as their "sense specialist," which was basically a glorified term for "lookout." Republic units always loved having Jedi to keep an eye on their surroundings, as they were able to pick up on the hostile intentions of dangerous individuals from a distance. At least the soldiers got more sleep as a result. Ander pulled more images of Sekel from her file, looking her over as best he could, but nothing seemed to connect for him. Sitting back Ander left his datatablet aside, for when Korra replied to his message. Until then, he'd wait and search the corners of his memory for this elusive woman.
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