Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
Posts: 2,206 
Affiliation: First Order
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Xeonon Solomon on Oct 3, 2014 16:26:51 GMT -8
For a second Xeonon expected to see Faust come at him with the knife. Never had he seen a Priest of Kad prepare a weapon for their duty. Usually he had been to busy fighting to survive, or occasionally using the weapon against its owner as he had once with Gorehound. Those however had been in another life, another him. The memories were foggy and dark like they were indeed not his. Watching with morbid fascination he noted that it was not the first time the palm had been cut. It had been used at least twice before he assumed on the weapons the shade had already.
It was indeed something a living creature could never hope to recreate. This however paled in comparison to what Eralam could create. That robot was a walking encyclopaedia on guns. He had once asked him about a gun and it took him 17 minutes to get past the history lesson of the person who created it. Even longer on each type of ammo that weapon could use. A man could have died listening, but he had picked some things up obviously. The man would be proud if he was still here to see this.
Unlike most Faust this debt will be rather cheap. I require but one thing from you, tell people about me. Spread my name, my skills. Let people know what you have seen so I can spread my influence further. Let the other Priests of Kad know about me, it is a pleasure to meet all of you. Your handiwork will suit my needs well.
What those were he did not allude to, he was still new to this form and as such was not used to the perfect thoughts. Sometimes he spoke what he did not intend to. Other times not speaking at all. In this instance he wanted nothing but the Priests to kill. Do what they do best. Spread chaos and sow doubt in the universe. Make the Whills look at the universe once and a while.
|
|
Faust Skirata
Member
I'm the Juggernaut, bitch.
Posts: 203
Affiliation: The Priesthood
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Faust Skirata on Oct 7, 2014 17:07:37 GMT -8
"The Priests are scattered, wretch. They found their glory and their doom in Ashrah's Crusade." Faust's voice was a forlorn growl. "And if I were to find my missing brothers, we would have more important matters to discuss than you. But I will make mention of your name, and let them bear witness to the tool you have created, so that they might judge for themselves." Thinking about the Priests brought up painful memories of long hours in the yard, learning the way of Kad from his battlemaster.
With a shake of his head the Priest dismissed the past and chuckled. "I doubt Darian would take to the notion."
He glanced at the pilot, still frozen with his hand outstretched. It was tempting to continue his conversation with the spirit; its gruff demeanor and lust for carnage were traits after his own black heart, after all. No doubt we'd make fast friends, Faust mused with a faint smile. Yet there was work to be done, lives to be given to Kad, and the subjugation of a galaxy to attend to. There was no time for idle conversation, and the pistol was the only help he could accept. Any more aid from the specter would appear unseemly in the eyes of the Destroyer God.
"Begone," the Priest growled as he seated himself and faced Baroth once more. "And dismiss whatever sorcery binds this place."
The Ripper lay on the table once more, an unspoken threat should the pilot develop a spine. There was little enough chance of that happening; the man was a coward and a drunk, a wretch fit only to be cowed by his betters. His life would make a poor sacrifice, but after he divulged his secrets his soul would be sent to Kad regardless.
Everything was in order and the task that lay before him begged completion, yet the Priest hesitated, and then called over his shoulder, "Wretch...I misspoke. Arasuum has no friend in you." The silence that followed his statement was deafening, but the Mandalorian had said all he intended to. Eyes of sulfuric yellow bored into Baroth as he waited for time to resume its flow.
|
|
Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
|
Post by Atia on Oct 9, 2014 12:31:49 GMT -8
Finding merceneries is easy. There is always someone somewhere in need of money whom would do basically anything. Lot of the porn industry is based on blokes and lolitas of this sort. Finding someone with intelligence and skill, but whom still would do anything is rather hard though. Lucky for Juvex Import Export, they have a good source. Lot of ex and present slavers reside on Juvex, and they are well aware of their little part of the world, the slaving world. If you ask around long enough, you can come up with a couple numbers.
That is when Fausts Comm suddenly started ringing.
|
|
Faust Skirata
Member
I'm the Juggernaut, bitch.
Posts: 203
Affiliation: The Priesthood
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Faust Skirata on Oct 11, 2014 12:58:01 GMT -8
A black wind swept through the cantina as the Shade That Was Xeonon disappeared in a thunderclap. The patrons sat stunned, clearly baffled by what had happened. A mug fell from a shaky hand and shattered across the floor. The sound seemed to shake the patrons of the Bloodfin from their stupor, and within moments conversation had resumed. The laughter was strained instead of boisterous and Faust met more than one set of eyes glancing nervously about, but otherwise it seemed things were back to normal.
Thank Kad, Faust thought, flashing Baroth a grin. Ghosts need to learn to stay dead. "Now, where were we?"
"I already told you where he keeps the shipments!" The pilot insisted, pale faced. He blanched when Faust's comlink gave an urgent beep. The priest acted as if he had not heard it, fixing Baroth with a venomous stare.
"Aye, so you did." The Reaver Lord's voice was a hoarse whisper. He raised the Ripper almost casually, and put two rounds in the pilot's chest.
[/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul][/ul] After the murder Faust returned to his shuttle to offer thanks to Kad. His cabin was plain and unadorned, its only furnishings a battered storage cabinet and a threadbare cot shoved up against one wall. He knelt and prayed, dragging the tip of his dirk down his forearm as he chanted. Words and blood spilled out of him in a sacred mixture, and by the time he was finished the priest's eyes were feverish and exulted. He wound a bandage around his arm to stem the worst of the flow and sat to replay the killing one more time in his head. It was only then that he remembered receiving a message. His fingers tapped along the face of his bracer, recalling the frequency and connecting to it. After a long moment another beep signaled that the devices were linked. "Speak," the priest growled. [/font]
|
|
Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
|
Post by Atia on Oct 12, 2014 10:36:08 GMT -8
-Bateman-
Greetings Mr Skirata, I am Mr Bateman. I call you from the lovely world of juvex.
Voice of an old man, no picture, but the caller information seemed to be juvex, wich was good. Tone like a traveling salesman.
-Bateman-
I was informed by some old coligues and contacts that you are the sort of man that does aggressive and violent work for fair payment. I would like to know more of what you can contribute on your skills, if I may.
|
|
Faust Skirata
Member
I'm the Juggernaut, bitch.
Posts: 203
Affiliation: The Priesthood
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Faust Skirata on Oct 12, 2014 15:59:35 GMT -8
Faust's eyes narrowed as he realized the nature of the call.
"Aye, I am beroya." The words came out rasping but well practiced. "My reavers and I deal in death and thralls, Mr. Bates. Which do you seek?"
It was rather uncommon for employers to contact him in such a way. Usually the dealings were mediated by a broker, and then passed along to him. That Mr. Bates had contacted him directly was indicative of his significance, and significant employers always payed the best. Sometimes they even presented him with worthy foes, though that was less common. Scratching absentmindedly at the ruin of his cheek, Faust wondered how quickly he could end his business on Rodia. With his campaign still in its infancy there was need for every spare credit he could get his crushgaunts on.
|
|
Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
|
Post by Atia on Oct 13, 2014 6:53:49 GMT -8
-Bateman-
Thralls, and we also pay handsomely for information.
I have a need for ten Wookies. 1500 per healthy specimen, with a start payment of 2000 if you can give me a report on Rodia military and govermental status. An other 2000 if you can do the same for Kashyyk. If you do everything right, that would be easy work for 19 000 credits.
Since we dont know eachother, see this as a test mission. We want to know if you can preform, I am sure you want to know if we can pay. There would be both more dangerous and lucrative missions later, should you be intrested.
|
|
Faust Skirata
Member
I'm the Juggernaut, bitch.
Posts: 203
Affiliation: The Priesthood
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Faust Skirata on Oct 15, 2014 9:44:49 GMT -8
"Information is not a service I provide, Mr. Bates. Kad bids me kill and enslave in his name, not spy like a hu'tuun." The priest's face was a mask of cold contempt. There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Send coordinates for the drop off point. I will deliver your thralls within a week."
He terminated the link.
The cool night air was welcome after the labors of the ritual and the sweltering heat of his cabin. Faust descended the ramp and strolled around to the starboard side of the shuttle. A quick glance around showed the lot was still abandoned, as he knew it would be. To avoid appearing on any registries he'd landed the ship on the outer fringes of the city, in the center of defunct factory district. It was deemed unsafe and thus he had all the privacy required to go about his business unnoticed.
He tapped a few commands into his bracer and stepped forward as the shuttle's side panel slid back with a hiss. He had to wrestle the speeder bike out of the compartment, but it was a stripped down model and easily managed. The priest gave one last look around the lot before swinging his leg over the bike and seating himself. The engine roared to life, and Faust streaked away in search of his next target.
|
|
|
|
Post by Oraltor Nadon on Oct 15, 2014 10:35:27 GMT -8
A lone hwk-290 transport enters the atmosphere and lands in the jedi temple on the outskirts of Equator City. The ramp lowered and a Chadra-fan descended into the hanger. Takwen had not been back to Rodia in years and it seemed as though it was darker than when he left. It disturbed him that he could not sense Master Nadon at all on planet, and the sense of Master Ruso was greatly diminished. Something had happened here. He set out in search of the Grand Protector.
|
|
Vreegon
Member
Posts: 15
Affiliation: Rodia
|
Post by Vreegon on Oct 15, 2014 10:36:40 GMT -8
Vreegon hesitated. Shiar would notice this. Dang. He hoped for a better start.
I was surprised you weren't there this morning.
|
|
Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
|
Post by Atia on Oct 15, 2014 14:02:09 GMT -8
The Coordinates sent to the mans comm were the coordinates of Juvex City, Juvex, Mid Rim. A Little message beside it read:
'Ask for Juvex Import Exports President.'
|
|
|
|
Post by Shiar Throndec on Oct 16, 2014 7:29:31 GMT -8
Shiar put the cards down and faced Vreegon.
There? What are you talking about?
|
|
Vreegon
Member
Posts: 15
Affiliation: Rodia
|
Post by Vreegon on Oct 16, 2014 10:27:44 GMT -8
Vreegon handed Shiar the datacard that Oraltor had given him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Oraltor Nadon on Oct 16, 2014 13:27:39 GMT -8
Shiar, we are leaving Rodia temporarily. Events in the galaxy at large have arisen that require our immediate attention. An old friend of ours seems to be at the center of this web. I must attempt to guide Crom'nen back on the path on which he started. I know that the two of you did not part on the best of terms. Thus I leave this messsage. You and Salnor must watch after Vreegon and Rodia while we are away. I will attempt to send you more help in this matter. May the force be with you.
|
|
|
|
Post by Shiar Throndec on Oct 21, 2014 7:00:23 GMT -8
Shiar became angry as she read the note. Was he kidding? That slimy wretch had taken her boyfriend with him, and then they disappeared. And that was AFTER they learned that Crom'nen was responsible for the death of Brulax's first padawan. Brulax had threatened to kill Crom'nen if he ever saw the politician away. At one time, she had trusted Crom'nen implicitly, and they had saved each other's lives many times. Now, she only trusted that the Twi'lek would betray him. And, she presumed, Sluggy had pulled Kelko into it. She was tempted to get in her ship. It could beat them there. But she didn't even know where Crom'nen was these days. They could be going to a million worlds, moons, stations, even ships that served as mobile command posts. She didn't have Oraltor's use of the Force to just "know." She began muttering curse words in her native tongue. Then she turned back to her old friend.
How the hell could you let them leave?
|
|
Faust Skirata
Member
I'm the Juggernaut, bitch.
Posts: 203
Affiliation: The Priesthood
Traffic Light: Blue
|
Post by Faust Skirata on Oct 22, 2014 16:18:34 GMT -8
Morrows' footsteps echoed through the empty parking garage as he stumbled toward his speeder. The light panels built into the ceiling were dying, casting dim halos of light between the vehicles and flickering. The captain rubbed at his eyes and grimaced, revealing teeth stained red from spice. His patched fatigues were threadbare and faded, and his broad chin was covered in stubble. Yet the pistol he wore in a crossdraw holster was pristine, and despite the spice his eyes were clear and focused.
All this Faust observed from his perch atop his prey's speeder. In one hand he held his dirk, in the other the whetstone he'd been using to hone its edge. The priest had been waiting for this moment for nearly an hour, readying the weapon he would use to take the captain's life. Idle daydreams of slaughter had passed the time, and whetted his appetite for the real thing. Slipping the whetstone back into the pouch on his belt, Faust dropped to the ground with a metallic clank.
And then he was running.
Morrows' went for his gun. The man was fast, but drugs and the shock of being charged slowed his reflexes. It was halfway out of its holster when the priest's shoulder slammed into Morrows' chest and knocked him to the pavement. An armored hand seized his hair and yanked him to his knees. "What," he wheezed. "Wha-" He reached up, fingers clawing at the hand that held him.
Faust stabbed him so hard the tip of his blade jarred against the captain's spine. A savage snarl twisted his lips and intertwined with Morrows' squeal of pain to make the most beautiful music the priest had ever heard. So he stabbed him again, and again, and again until he was holding a limp corpse and covered in blood from his waist to his neck. He leaned down to look into his victim's eyes and then tossed him to the floor, panting.
|
|
Vreegon
Member
Posts: 15
Affiliation: Rodia
|
Post by Vreegon on Oct 29, 2014 9:39:50 GMT -8
The Grand Protector was surprised, to say the least. He had seen Shiar mad before. She had shot one of their friends, causing him to spend a week in a bacta tank. He stepped back, then gulped.
Wha--? I-- You didn't know? I'm sorry. I assumed that he told you they were leaving.
|
|
|
|
Post by Shiar Throndec on Nov 18, 2014 9:22:54 GMT -8
She took out the datacard and flung it across the room.
They're going after Crom'nen. Oraltor think he can fix him. They're likely to get themselves killed.
|
|
Jace Stealer
Member
Posts: 305
Affiliation: Unfair Advantage
|
Post by Jace Stealer on Dec 8, 2014 15:25:25 GMT -8
The passenger ship Swift Jewel dropped out of the clouds along it's designated flight path, rounding once around the city before moving for the spaceport. Coming in low and slow, the ship's repulsorlifts blasted away as it drifted in position above it's assigned landing pad. Floating cautiously downwards, the landing gear dropped down and locked into place as the ship settled in. With a hiss of released pressure the side hatch folded outwards and downwards to meet the duracrete with a thud. Citizens from various worlds filtered out and across the open hanger to the nearest security gate. They underwent several identification checks and a quick bag check before being sent on their way.
Among the crowd were two Rodians who split off from the main roadway and cut down a small side alley. After checking the alley behind them, they took their identification papers and wrapped them with a highly flammable sheet of filaments. Lighting it on fire, they tossed it into a corner and continued onwards. The papers were burnt up in seconds, the ashes and crispy chunks pushed around in the wind to mingle with the rest of the dump and dust of the side street. Once they reached the next main street, they slipped into the stream of civilians heading away from the city center.
An hour later they were booked in a decent hotel that's main feature was that it had holonet access. The two of them were searching for anything that would help them start with their investigation. One of them started sifting through past news articles while the other started to pull topographic maps of the nearby regions, using the information that his partner found to narrow the possible regions that they would be operating in.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2015 22:01:34 GMT -8
Barloz-class medium freighter, The Pivane
After they set down in the spaceport, Cerise and Viho split up; Cerise staying behind to get the ship prepped for departure after they have what and who they're here to pick up, and the Ithorian heading into the city to get the plants and other gardening supplies required for the public part of their employer's business.
After the freighter is refueled, and all of the post and pre-flight checks have been completed, Cerise checks her wrist chrono to see how long she has until the passenger Viho will be taking back to Umgul arrives. The curly, blonde haired Brosin sighs when she see that she still has a bit of time to kill, then shrugs after deciding to kill it by making a few minor repairs that have been put off for a while.
|
|
