Star Wars OPEN New Sith Trials: Dark Reach: Episode I: An Order Remade

Combo with @Sinrebirth

IC: Aleson Gray & Vizier Bo Etraa
Song of War, clean-up crew...

Deployed by Queen Mother Ni'Korish - now the late monarch, though that wasn't known quite yet, Aleson Gray led the team to recapture the heavily damaged Hapan Battle Dragon. Having taken aboard three Sith and their droid, it had been fired at in an attempt to kill the intruders, to be abandoned when the enemy were accepted aboard Ni'Korish's flagship, Star Home.

The crew had processed crushed and battered and ruined bodies for nearly an hour, taking back the bridge and dispatching teams to assess the damage. It was during that process that Bo, surrounded by a dozen-odd dead, would come to, not because the search was nearing the room he had collapsed in - though it was - but because a powerful lightsider had arrived.

A very powerful.

His danger sense would explode, forcing him awake, and he would barely be able to sense Renn and Serapis aboard the Hapan flagship. Helinith and Insipid's other apprentice, the Keshiri Takaris Yur, could not be sensed, but the Song of War was in no fit-state to intervene with what could only be a Jedi Master.

Bo took only a brief moment to try to fathom how long he'd been out for. His mind was pulled to this powerful presence he felt in the Force; he still felt a strange sense of excitement within - this newly awakened ability to see into another realm, into the realm of the living Force. The old Bo might have tried to seize control over the Hapes monarchy but this newly minted Dark-Sider relished in his new found insights and power. Anark would be so pleased, he thought.

Wiping a sheet of dried, brown blood from his temple, the Vizier dragged himself up onto his feet, struggling to keep his balance as he stood in his heavy armour.

Where is everyone, he thought as he gazed around at the dead strewn about the deck.

Voices from the other room were evident. “My lord, a New Republic X-wing carrying Luke Skywalker has arrived - in the middle of the operation. Orders?”

“Has the Queen Mother been in touch?” His voice was overly dramatic.

“No, sir, but I heard from my cousin aboard the Star Home... the Sith killed her... and Ta’a is Queen Mother now.”

“What!?”

“So Skywalker...” a third voice.

“... is here to save us from the Sith?” A fourth.

Rapidly the makings of the numbers outside were becoming clear, even in Bo’s grogginess, and the overall situation.

“Should we withdraw to our shuttle? We may be recalled at any moment and we don’t want to leave Ta’a hanging... her temper is legendary...”

“... the shuttle is only a bay over, we must continue on as normal unless it is confirmed. Queen Mother Ni’Korish will punish us if we cease doing as ordered.”

“Assuming she is still alive.”

“Assuming.”

“I mean, she was over a hundred.”

“She’s dead,” Bo whispered to himself.

He spotted his blaster rifle on the floor a few paces away. His grogginess caused him to stumble over one of the bodies but he wasn’t long in forcing himself back up. When he grabbed the blaster he noticed a few specks of blood on it, was it his?

No time.

He robbed a comm from another corpse, ready to intercept more chatter between the crew and use it to navigate his way safely (hopefully) off the Song Of War

As he approached an elevator that sparked and creaked open the Vizier attempted to tap into the Force once more. Surely Insipid would know he’d survived.

He tapped a button on the elevator’s keypad and hoped that going up would eventually lead him to signage for the escape pods.

There had been no word on the comm until...

TBC...​

 

Vyatoris/Azeth Drost
Kesh

The force flared violently, a supernova of piercing brightness which engulfed one's senses. Immediately, the lesser trained among the group fell to their collective knees in writhing agony, some remaining conscious, others not so lucky.

Vyatoris was, for the most part, spared from such abuse, his recent forced interactions with the supernova's source allowing some semblance of protection. He did however, take the moment to relish in the sudden anxiety radiating from the group, as they suddenly became aware of the presence of Siam.

"You can see him to..! T-this isn't just a nightmare..?" Vyatoris muttered gleefully to himself, barely heard over the din of Insipid yelling about the incoming attack.

Vyatoris' glee would be cut short as he became aware of the sudden maelstrom of glass shards raining down upon them, directed of course by Siam. Vyatoris narrowed his brown, quickly becoming aware that, somehow, he was not in any real danger. Every shard he could perceive was directed towards the other Sith, leaving him safe and sound where he stood.

But why? Why wasn't he being targeted like the other Sit-

Again the hooded man's voice echoed in his mind.

Right here, right now.

I see. So that's how it is.. He thought bitterly, observing how each of the Sith nearest to him were completely preoccupied in protecting themselves from the hailstorm of glass directed towards them. Soliloquy was focused on it's newest apprentice. Manticore and Bernael stood together, focusing on mounting some form of counter-attack.

Insipid.. He stood alone. Vulnerable.

Or was it just another act? Vyatoris shuddered briefly, his heartbeat seemingly exploding between his ears. Certainly they can all sense that I'm the only one not in danger?! Clearly this is just a test, RIGHT?! He told me to do nothing when the time came, and now he wants me to strike down Insipid when he's surrounded by his closest allies? That's suicide!

His eyebrow twitched involuntarily as his gaze fell upon Insipid, who was currently retreating back within the ship he had touched down on. It would be so easy to redirect a few of those shards into his engines.. Meanwhile..

Vyatoris immediately began using faint tugs of the force to redirect a number of the heated shards hurtling towards himself, dispelling any belief that he wasn't being targeted as well. With quick twists and turns of his lithe body, Vyatoris appeared as if he were dancing to an upbeat rhythm, every step being missed by a super heated shard of glass impacting into the dirt behind him by a mere hair's breath. Simultaneously, he began focusing on a number of shards whose trajectory would harmlessly bounce off of Insipid's force shield harmlessly, instead lightly feathering them upwards so they would instead embed themselves deep within his ship's engine cores.

Vyatoris continued his little dance, twisting and turning his way towards the general direction of Manticore and Bernael, neatly flipping over the pair with a force imbued somersault, landing lightly behind their collective force wedge.

That should be enough assistance from my end.. if Siam can't manage a simple assassination.. perhaps he isn't the master I should be following.. He thought bitterly, rising to his feet and extending a smaller force shield around himself and the two Sith in front of him.

"So who's attacking us this time?!" He called out, to no one in particular.

Tags: @Sinrebirth , @Mitth_Fisto , @greyjedi125 , @darthbernael

 

OOC: A combo with @Darth_wanderguard

IC: Captain Lennox Jerod, Enzo Azzurri, Matic Carrusco
Location: Dark Dreamer, approaching Taris

Three days had passed and Jerod had been glad for the rest.

And to wash all that mud off his borrowed uniform and his boots.

He had been patched up after his fights, first with the hawkbats and then two fistfights on Nal Hutta. He had been battered and bruised and had given some back, Ike had bourne the final blow after receiving a well earned baton whack to the face.

Lennox had simply rested and did his usual duties aboard, it was nice to get back into his routine again. Get up, work out head to the bridge, eat meals, complete his bridge duties and then head to bed leaving Alta in charge of the night shift. Xander still popped into Lennox’s thoughts, was he hurt, had he been tortured?. Had Hel suffered a worse fate?. Plo had lost his temper and no wonder since his daughter hadn't been returned safely. What would he do if he saw Xander dead or hurt?

He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

Plo had called a meeting on the bridge, Jerod in his usual position in the Captain’s chair. He had decided to keep his trusty batons about, they came in useful and provided an extra bit of protection as well as his blaster and vibroblades. Taris however was no Nal Hutta but it could still be rough. Azzurri had decided not to do an announcement this time and give everyone a bit more of a rest.

The assignments were given: Aryan, Syren, Vex and Plo would be heading into the city whilst Jerod was stuck with basically the nutters. Either putting them all together was a stroke of genius of the biggest mistake ever. He did wonder how Ike would react to him after Jerod had basically assaulted him.

Jerod resolved though to give Ike double next time if he mouthed off again.

A call came over the comm saying that Taris was on lockdown and the whole planet no less, not good for them it seemed and a hurdle for them to get down.

Azzurri shut their side of the comm off so they could decide what to do “Thoughts gentleman” Lennox said steepling his fingers under his chin in his thoughtful pose.

“We could try doing the medical emergency call again, perhaps relating to our new guest Zabrak” Azzurri said “However they will get a shock if he starts walking out on his own steam.”

“How about delivering supplies?” Carrusco said “Food, medicine, aid? They can’t say no to that. Even if it is a virus outbreak they will need supplies”

“We are not carrying much ourselves” Lennox replied “Unless they like hawkbat eggs, we don’t have much to sell let alone supply any portion of the planet” “Perhaps we could receive something in return if we sold the last of the hawkbat eggs, depends what they offer us.” he shrugged “Might as well enquire about the lockdown, they can’t blow us out of the sky for that. Might even help us decide what our business is” he nodded “Do it”

Azzurri got back on the somm “What the hell is going on? We arrive and we are informed you are on lockdown? What is the nature of it? We have business on planet”

“What the hell is,” the voice shot back, “listen buddy I should... asking me all these questions,” he sputtered angrily before composing himself. “Look I don’t know who you think you are but you’re not entitled to just land on a planet that’s on military lockdown, or to be demanding answers,” he explained, still angry but a mite more professional than before. “So unless you’re going to give a good explanation for your business you can turn your ship around and leave, otherwise we have no way of knowing you’re not another one of Ren’s.”

Azzurri shut off their side of the comm after that little tirade “Great, a military lockdown. So there’s either been a military coup, a terrorist attack, a virus unleashed eccetera” he sighed “No way we are getting past this one sir”

“Well Enzo look at it this way, we used to be the ones patrolling military lockdowns, not trying to get through them” Carrusco said with a shrug, “I don’t think we are going to get answers as what caused it perhaps we could try dropping the name our mystery guest told us”

Jerod shook his head “I think we are trying for stealth against Xiaozhan although to be honest with a group of Sith aboard he might sense us from a mile off anyway” he sighed “I never thought I would say this, let’s try being Imperial. Put me on comm”

Azzurri nodded once he reopened the comm channel.

“This is Captain Lennox Jerod” he said sounding his old Imperial self “I believe according to my comm officer you are under military lockdown. To block ships from landing you must have an important reason to do so, especially one carrying a military team here to root out a potential terrorist. One that poses a danger to your planet and possibly the galaxy if he escapes. This scumbag needs to be captured and face justice and you are blocking us from undertaking our job”

“A potential terrorist?” the dispatcher scoffed. “And yeah, I have a damn good reason for not letting just anyone with a story land a ship - because Governor Xiaozhan would skin me alive if I did. I don’t know what rock you’ve been living under but Taris just declared itself independent from Ren’s Empire and no one is expecting him to take it lying down.”

The disdain would seem to emanate through the comm console.

“So in case you need me to spell it out to you, I’m. Not. Letting. You. Land. Because. You. Might. Be. One. Of. The. Bad. Guys. Unless you have express permission from Governor Xiaozhan in the form of landing codes, you’re not getting anywhere close to a spaceport without getting shot full of holes.”

With that, the transmission cut off abruptly.

“Um, sir...” a bridge officer spoke up. “We have Vex Nolzit’s comm, it might have the codes ready to transmit,” he gestured to the device hanging on the wall, which had been confiscated from the prisoner. “We might want to call them back.”

"I hate to say I told you so but…" Carrusco shrugged but it was lighthearted.

"And it looks like there is a bit of infighting in the Sith too" said Azzurri "One Sith breaking away from the other, perhaps to form his own faction. Kind of like the war we were just involved in".

"Correct" said Jerod getting up from his chair and retrieving the comm thanking the officer who suggested using it "And if this Xiaozhan is involved with a criminal syndicate, that would help finance his cause, exactly what Bellorum did with Twilight Sun. He wants merchandise and he lost it on Nal Hutta. We could be about to get involved in another war".

He tossed the comlink to Azzurri "You're technically minded, grab the codes off it and transmit when I tell you"

"Yes sir" Azzurri got to work and after around twenty seconds nodded.

"Get me back on the comm. Let's see how our controller friend takes this one. Carrusco, maintain speed, keep a watch out for any fighters coming"

Azzurri nodded when he had established a comm line "This is Captain Lennox Jerod. About those codes you mentioned….transmitting now" he raised his hand and Azzurri transmitted the codes.

"Now, if you take that tone with me again. It will be you that is full of holes not my ship. So I suggest you let us land , before I comm Lord Xiaozhan and tell him you have been less than accommodating to one of his ships."

“Look you jackass, I told you to- '' the dispatcher had begun a tirade the moment a connection was made, but was cut off mid sentence.

There was a pregnant silence over the line for a few moments after Jerod’s warning, until finally the dispatcher continued in a nearly unrecognizable voice.

“Welcome to the Independent System of Taris. Be advised that all landing craft must be inspected by customs upon entry to the spaceport. All contraband including illegal narcotics, exotic wildlife, and all weapons will be confiscated. Return of property upon departure from the system is not guaranteed.”

“Understood” Jerod replied simply and stoically just like he used to and it was easy to slip back into “We will be ready for inspection when we land. Commencing landing now”

He motioned Azzurri to mute the comm on their end so they could still receive instructions “Carrusco, head down to the spaceport as instructed. I don’t want any surprises so keep your eyes peeled. Azzurri, keep an eye on the comm, see if we get any…’personal’ messages from our new host”

“Yes sir, reducing speed, preparing landing gear” replied Carruso, Azzurri just giving a nod.

Jerod opened a channel up to Plo “Sir, I have managed to succeed in getting us in to land, and we can thank our new friend Vex for that his comlink came into good use. They are saying that all contraband will be confiscated which includes exotic wildlife, narcotics and weapons. So if there is anywhere to hide the booze, weapons and hawkbat eggs, we’d better hide them somewhere”

And hiding the booze will no doubt irk Bellorum and Ike….

The reply came only moments later, as the ship landed.

”Ohhhh kriff.”

TAG: @Darth_wanderguard

 

Two back-to-back combos with the always fun Quinlan Vos

IC: Erebus & Syren
Dark Dreamer

Before...

A pair of medics rushed into the room a short time later, hover-gurney in between them. Syren didn't need to see the look of horror on both of their faces to know that Erebus' appearance frightened them - she could sense their immediate fear in the Force.

Rising slowly, she lifted one hand palm-up to levitate the zabrak along with her, his mangled form floating through the air to come to a rest on the stretcher. "He's not dead, no need to check," she told them, though neither had made a move closer to inspect for signs of life. "Let's go." There was enough edge to her voice to finally spur them into action, guiding their spy the short distance to the medbay as she followed just behind. In his sight-line if he should manage to return to consciousness...

... Vex's eyes slowly opened, but quickly shut once more. The lights were too bright for his dazed mind to handle, and he wondered what was happening. He didn't remember much, just that he had been tracking a man and a woman from the auctions, and that he'd finally caught up, and....

It all rushed back to him hand in hand with an immense amount of pain. He grunted, holding back tears. As he reopened his eyes slowly, he noticed the woman from the gym following him...

Following??? What was happening?!

He noticed then that he was floating along on his back down a hallway. Confused by this, he went to sit up to find out what was going on. However, in his hasty attempt to rise from his position, the pain overcame him. With that, he drifted back into unconsciousness, falling heavily back onto the gurney...

Syren watched their captive wake, but return to his prior state only a moment later, just as they arrived in the small but fully equipped medbay. A single bacta tank large enough to hold two humans - or one alien of a bigger size - was fixed against the far wall while a trio of beds and various medical machinery, cabinets and screens lined the right. The gurney slid to a halt at the middle.

"Get him in the tank first," she instructed the still-fearful medics, but this time they obeyed immediately and set to begin hooking the zabrak up to several tubes and electronic readouts that would keep tabs on his healing.

Such a shame he'd be asleep and unable to feel the excruciating agony of bones mending, skin stitching itself back together, puncture wounds scarring over....

"Wait," Syren barked as an anesthetic was about to be administered, most likely a strong enough dose to keep Erebus unconscious. The female medic that held the drug eyed her in confusion an glanced nervously to her partner, needle poised inches from the injection point. "You are not to give him that, now or at any point." The assassin reached out and took it from her, a cruel smile forming weakly across her lips. It didn't feel as... good... as it used to, melting her smile into a sneer.

"The Dark Lord's orders." And she stepped back, waving them along to continue.

Minutes later, Vex woke once more when he was plunged into the liquid. He floated there, finding the bacta liquid soothing. It made him begin to forget about the pain that covered his body. It took him a few moments to finally realize that something was wrong. Most people, when put in a bacta tank, were unconscious throughout. He, however, was not....

The pain came suddenly and was tenfold the torment that he had faced earlier. He writhed around in agony, desperate to escape the torture he was now going through. He punched at the glass in front of him, leaving a small crack on the side. Finally, the pain became to much to bear, and he lost control of his own body, which floated back. He didn't have the strength to move around anymore.

As he floated, he desperately wished to fall into unconsciousness to escape this misery, but the liquid kept him awake. He was forced to sit there throughout, pushing himself into the back corners of his mind to get as far away from the agony as possible.

But it was still there....

There was no true escape....

Only suffering...

---

Now, several days later...

Syren meandered along the corridor to the medbay, dutifully following her orders from Plo. She idly wondered now why she always blindly obeyed him, when she could simply say 'kriff it' and leave...

But every time the idea floated through her mind, she shut it down. She didn't want to leave, for better or for worse.

"Get him out and awake," she told the medics that were currently observing the zabrak in the bacta tank, a soft slur to her voice. The half-drank flask in her back pocket burned hot as they worked to get Erebus free of the healing device. He was retrieved and on a bed in a swift enough time as to not annoy her terribly, to which the alcohol helped.

Watching calmly from the wall beside the door as he was hooked up to several new machines and administered a waking agent, the assassin waited for him to return to consciousness.

Vex was trapped. Not in shackles in chains, but rather trapped by his own subconscious. Memories flew by, so quickly that he barely even recognized them, yet still knew each and every one of them. His first mission as an assassin, in which he was tasked to kill a friend of his. His first meeting with Lord Xiaozhan. His childhood...

His family being ripped away from him......

Vex's eyes shot open, and he quickly tried to sit up. The nausea overcame him, however, and he fell back towards the bed, catching himself before he could hit. Taking stock of the situation, he noticed the two medics in the corner, standing there fearfully but unable to run due to their greater fear of the other person in the room.

Syren.

Vex sat up once again, more slowly this time. He swung his arm in a circle, still feeling the soreness but no longer the pain of a broken bone. In fact, the bacta had healed just about everything in his body. Turning to face Syren, he gave a weary smile.

"Well then, what now?"

Syren pointed to the small metallic tray that hovered motionlessly on the other side of the bed from where Erebus was facing. There was a small pile of clothing there, all black. "Now you get dressed, then we see Plo." She pushed slowly from the wall and stalked forward to where he was half-propped upright. "Remember him? The one who inflicted all that damage," she flicked a hand to indicate his body and the wounds that had since healed. "... then so graciously repaired you?"

"How was the pain?" she asked with a lift of a brow, a small mischievous smirk.

Vex's mood noticeably darkened with the mention of Plo. In his two meetings with the man, he had come away being beaten to a bloody pulp. He knew that if he were to ever join this bunch that he would need to learn to get along with him, but right now that was quite difficult to do.

"I've had worse," he responded to Syren's question, knowing full well that it was a blatant lie. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to change into my clothing."

With that, he lifted the shirt that he had been wearing when he was put into the Bacta tank, revealing a toned but heavily bruised torso. Inspecting his wounds, he reached for his tunic which lay a few feet away from him.

Syren didn't move away, nor look away as the zabrak dressed. Modesty was a foreign concept to her, and it had never been a point of distraction. She allowed him mere minutes to get himself straight before turning to head back towards to door.

"I'll brief you along the way," she told Erebus over her shoulder, only telling part of the truth. She'd tell him only what he needed to know.

Vex finished lacing his boot and stood up, testing his own weight to see how his injuries held up. Satisfied, he walked towards the door to follow Syren out, already feeling the ship lowering to a landing zone on the surface below...

TAGS: @Quinlan Vos @Darth_wanderguard

 

IC: Manticore
Kesh, Battle of the Circle



The Attack was sudden. Powerful. Worthy. But there was something else at play, he could not name it -yet, but he could feel it, sense it in the darkside of the Force.

Manticore immersed his being in the bonfire of anger and hate, as he mounted a powerful counter attack against the maelstrom of superheated glass. In a mere moment, Bernael was next to him, lending his considerable strength as they both now focused their combined might in retaliation.

The recently named Lord of Hate could clearly sense his fellow sith as they struggled against the sudden attack - but some more than others. Manticore could feel it through the force wedge, how steams of heated glass were willfully redirected past his defenses. Some struck one of the ships and caused it to explode!

In the middle of the chaos, the Sith Emperor was critically wounded by a glass attack, but not killed. Manticore felt his anger surge even higher. First Skywalker- now this. The zabrak felt it coming on as his fiery eyes became tinged with red. His hate was swelling further and further.

A figure vaulted over the Zabrak and the Anzati, quickly forming a defensive shield as he landed. It was the miraluka.

"So, who’s attacking us this time?!” He declared conversationally.

This one did not evince any strain relative to the rest of the struggling sith, which immediately raised a flag within the zabrak. The sudden attack was so fierce from the onset, that there was simply no time for idle conversation…..

In that moment, another explosion erupted, this one from a nearby building- bricks and cement mushroomed, only to be redirected through the force.

“MANTICORE!”

The Lord of Hate reacted even as the warning was given by Darth Insipid.

Manticore had no other option but to bring all of his Force defenses to a single point- which in turn caused the wedge to vanish. The attacker slammed into the zabrak with bone-crushing force, but instead, met a barrier that combined not only telekinesis, which was instantly obliterated- but also tutaminis, which he had been using to defuse the glass maelstrom. Despite all this, the shockwave was titanic.

Manticore was sent flying, but he quickly recovered as he righted himself in mid-air. Even before landing, he released a lance of pure force augmented fire, which he had been absorbing from the initial maelstrom attack.

Around him, Soliloquy and Bernael were made to deal with assaults directed at them. The Emperor was wounded and vulnerable; again. Now more than ever, the future of the Sith hung in the balance.

Had the Miraluka attempted to distract him? No time to ponder.

Sawtooth flared as it came alive, even as he landed, the red lightsaber blade burst forth, obeying the command of its master.

After Mortis, Bedlam, Snoke and now Skywalker, he’d had more than enough. The zabrak’s eyes had become fully red - just as he was fully committed to the cause. Whoever this was - it didn’t matter, even if he felt strangely familiar, yet not. His own lacerations were of no consequence, as they simply fed his power.

With a sudden burst of force speed, Manticore literally flew at the Black Robed opponent.

This one spoke the language of the strong, much like Skywalker did. It was clear that he meant to slay them all and place himself above the Sith Emperor. Ambitious. Indeed. There was nothing wrong with ambition. Mighty beings rose and fell. The Sith homeworld- well, the sith homeworld he knew, was filled with tombs of those who were once mighty. Some still were, even after death.

The issue was not having ambition, but having the necessary might and wit to translate it into reality. This would-be-usurper was about to find out that not all dreams became reality.

If he fell, Darth Insipid would eventually rise again.

But the Sith Order of the now - if it was to flourish in this time, it needed to be willing to fight to the very last, even to die if necessary, if it was to survive. To thrive and take back its glory.

For that to happen, Darth Insipid needed to live.

The Lord of Hate stood at the Gate. Undoubtedly, so did The Lord of Hunger and The Lord of Pain. ALL those who swore allegiance to the Sith were certain to oppose this newly minted upstart.

In his speedy approach, Manticore fired a cone of force to shatter any barrier his opponent may have erected, and with blinding speed, he viciously slashed down diagonally, in an attempt to carve his opponent from shoulder to hip.

He realized he needed to keep this one busy, no matter how powerful he seemed, so the others could have a chance to regroup and flank their enemy for good measure.

No usurper. You. will. Not. Pass.


Tag: @Sinrebirth, @darthbernael, @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough, @QueenSabe7

 

TRIPLE GM COMBO POST UPDATE

IC: Plo, Bellorum, and Ike - Dark Dreamer, Taris

‘Kriff. Kriff kriff kriff kriff. KRIFF!’

Plo was sprinting down the western corridor, his boots thudding against the deck with every step.

No booze. No drugs. No weapons. The spaceport authorities intended to sweep the ship and if they found any of the preceding... well, he didn’t know if they would confiscate it all, make the ship take off again, or simply arrest everyone on board. Either way, they needed to get every piece of contraband possible out of sight if they were to have any chance of mind-tricking their way out of this. Assuming that would even be an option.

He continued down the hallway, dipping in and out of rooms, ripping weapons off of racks and bottles out of liquor cabinets. He stopped and deposited an armload of it into a laundry chute, hearing glass shatter and at least one blaster go off as it hit the bottom of the channel. Frantically, he keyed his comm to the entire team and shot a text message to everyone.

port authrities want to sweep ship fro contrabadn. Hide booze, weapns, drugs NOW

It seemed only moments later that the ship’s intercom rung with a descending tri-tone to indicate an announcement.

”Ladies and gentlemen this is the bridge speaking. Welcome to Taris spaceport. The ship will be boarded shortly by spaceport inspectors, simply a formality to ensure there is no contraband being smuggled on-world. Senior staff are requested to report immediately to cargo, while all other passengers are instructed to remain where they are until the inspection is complete and further notice is given. As always, we hope you’ve enjoyed your trip and thank you for choosing Dark Dreamer.”

With that the speakers cut to silence. At some point Plo would need to have a word with Jerod about his bridge crew. Nonetheless, he had picked up on the request to go to cargo as one likely relayed from the spaceport itself, and so he would go. Luckily he was close by. Undoubtedly Jerod would be there himself shortly after. Hopefully Bellorum and Ike would take the cue as well.

When he arrived, the inspectors were already marching up the ramp - no less than a dozen of them, ready to scour the ship for any and all material undesirables. Well, mind tricking was out, at least at this juncture. He’d never tried it on multiple individuals at once, let alone a dozen of them, and force users were all over the place in this time. A failed attempt would probably be recognized and only raise suspicion.

“Are you the chief officer of this vessel, sir?” the lead inspector regarded Plo with a sneer once he reached the top of the ramp, and twirled a plasteel billy club. His accent was highly pretentious, but not the deliberate affectation Plo himself had adopted as a way of hiding his upbringing. No, this one was genuine. Fakers can always spot other fakers and, by extension, the non-fakers as well. This inspector was almost certainly from the core worlds, and as such he probably regarded Plo with derision solely based on his vaguely half-alien features. Plo of course couldn’t quite pass for fully human, but his specific ancestry wasn’t clear either.

“I am one third owner of this vessel, if that satisfies,” he replied, and gave a curt bow. “My captain is one Lennox Jerod. He will be arriving shortly.”

The lead inspector narrowed his eyes. “One-third owner,” he echoed. “Are you aware of this ship’s status as stolen?”

In that moment, Plo fantasized about killing Bellorum and Ike both in a thousand different ways and jettisoning their desiccated corpses into the sun. “Of course not,” he kept his composure, though, “I and my two business partners recently purchased this ship as a joint business venture.” He was just guessing now. Ike and Bellorum might have killed someone and stolen the ship directly out of a spaceport for all he knew.

“How recently?” the lead inspector hummed.

“A few weeks ago,” Plo shrugged.

There was a pause in the conversation then, and the lead inspector was writing something on his data pad, which seemed to take forever.

“Well, the ship has been regarded as stolen for a few decades now at least,” the inspector replied, now visibly more relaxed. “Did you get any papers with it when you bought it? Maintenance records?”

“Uh, no, not really,” Plo answered. He didn’t know if his answer was even accurate.

The inspector got suspicious again. “Look, I’ll level with you. I don’t think this ship is yours. But unless I find something concrete, I can’t take it.” He turned to his team. “Tear the ship apart, if there’s something here, find it.”

“Now come on,” Plo interjected, “that’s not necessary.”

“On the contrary sir, it is VERY necessary,” the inspector shot back. “I’m sure Governor Xiaozhan will very much appreciate when I deliver to him the most coveted luxury yacht in the galaxy.”

“Governor...” Plo muttered, and pieces began to fall into place. “Yes, of course, Governor Xiaozhan. I know him. Remind me, where is he located now?”

“Mind your own business!” the inspector barked, and jammed the butt of his billy club forcefully into Plo’s stomach. He reacted with an “oof” and doubled over just slightly, but it made him more angry than anything as the inspectors marched on from the cargo hold to scatter throughout the ship. It was everything he could do not to kill them all on the spot.

~

Ike sensed the sudden eruption of activity from the cargo hold, and rush of movement spreading to fill the ship. It had been preceded by a spike in Plo’s irritation level, so Ike briefly paused to check it hadn’t turned violent.

Then the announcement of inspectors and for everyone to step out of their rooms sent Ike into a brief fluster. He looked around briefly and wasn’t too sure what to make of the room; there were a lot of spent alcohol bottles. The ship had been stocked up when they acquired it...

Ike grimaced at that, but shrugged. Tucking his lightsaber into the front of his undershorts, he stripped off his other clothes and affected a groggy expression as he pushed open the door, looking for other Sith in the corridor to interact with.

“What’s going on?”

~

”booze, weapons, or drugs?”

“Are you kidding me??” Bellorum shouted inside her quarters upon reading the message from Haretisch.

She pulled out a drawer and rushed to her closet where she sat it down and prepared to move a large safe. It took Force augmented strength to move it just far enough to access a panel beneath for her to dump the contents of the drawer into the concealed space. Then she moved the heavy safe back in place to conceal her contraband. Bellorum double checked that all her jewels were in the safe and it was secured, “bloody bastards,” she muttered along with a few other choice expletives.

How the kriff would she hide the booze? There was far too much to conceal, so she tossed some clothing over the crates and went to the corridor.

She could see Ike a short distance away, and was about to speak but saw what could only be his lightsaber hilt sticking from his... well, she couldn’t even consider what he’d done because she didn’t have her own lightsaber.

Opening her door she raised her hand and the sleek hilt smacked soundly into her palm. She looked back at Ike and shrugged as she slid her weapon down her tunic where her bra should hold it in place. Now she leaned against the wall and pretended to look bored.

TAG: @HanSolo29, @QueenSabe7, @Quinlan Vos, @Snokers, @Jerjerrod-Lennox


[/b]

 

IC: Captain Lennox Jerod, Enzo Azzurri, Matic Carrusco
Location: Dark Dreamer, Taris

Jerod shut off his comlink after that exclamation from Plo, he had gathered the meaning of that reply easily enough.

“Well I think that means Plo will get the others moving on that” Jerod had to smile a little at that. “Meanwhile that order covers you all too, hide your blasters somewhere in your cabins if you can. If you have anything that could be classed as contraband lock it away or get rid of it. I don’t want them even getting a sniff of anything wrong here, because if they do, we may be being lead to Lord Xiaozhan in chains”

Azzurri had his hand up to his headset as he heard instructions over the comm “They are advising that you meet them at the cargo bay along with anybody classed as ‘senior’ on board. They are also advising all passengers to remain where they are until notification has been given that the inspection is complete”.

Lennox nodded as he stood up, taking his batons out of their holsters and slipping on each down the side of his uniform shirt. Hopefully they would be inconspicuous there and there was no way he was going to rescue Hel and Xander without any weapons. Although if it came down to it he supposed he could use his martial arts skills to kick them to death.

“Well I suppose we should do as they say” Jerod replied “Hopefully the others will behave themselves whilst we do get inspected although with Bellorum or Ike I highly doubt it.” he shrugged “Although if they want to put Plo’s daughter or my son in more danger my hope is they will”

As Carrusco brought them down into a safe and bump free landing, the other bridge crew including the navigator headed off to deal with their bits and pieces. Azzurri opened the ship wide comm and did his usual cheery announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen this is the bridge speaking. Welcome to Taris spaceport. The ship will be boarded shortly by spaceport inspectors, simply a formality to ensure there is no contraband being smuggled on-world. Senior staff are requested to report immediately to cargo, while all other passengers are instructed to remain where they are until the inspection is complete and further notice is given. As always, we hope you’ve enjoyed your trip and thank you for choosing Dark Dreamer.”

Carrusco shook his head with a smile “You’ve gone from Imperial to mega chirpy Enzo” he said “Next time could you try and be in the middle?”

Azzurri snorted which made Carrusco laugh.

“OK gents let’s get serious” Lennox said giving them both a stare “Get rid of your blasters and then return to the bridge. If I don’t come back I need the best people I have piloting this ship and keeping an eye on things” he turned to Alta “You’re in command here until I return, if not there is no other person I would have Captaining this ship and it’s motley crew. You have learned all the tricks of the trade from me, hopefully you may get to use them”

He nodded to them all, “I’ll have my comm with me, anything planet shatteringly urgent, you call me. Otherwise consider it radio silence. If Lor Xiaozhan detects we are not who we say we are, we will be crushed. Let’s hope we all come back in one piece and with Hel and Xander in tow”

“Good luck sir” said Carrusco.

“We’ll be watching out for you, don’t worry sir” Azzurri said with one of his nervous smiles “Oh and maybe Vex may want this back” he tossed the comm over to Jerod.

“Only if he behaves himself” Jerod replied with a slight smirk, catching the comlink and attaching it to his belt with his own one before leaving the bridge and quickly trotting back to his quarters. Inside he knew he had hardly anything that would be considered contraband, he hardly drank and never smoked anything. But where could he hide his blaster?. He searched around his room trying to see if there was a safe or hidden space he could hide it for now.

Eventually he did find a compartment in the wardrobe to hide it, hopefully it was one of those compartments where sensors could not detect what was inside. It was what most smuggling or pirate ships carried anyway if they were holding any booty they did not want anybody grabbing. After doing a quick sweep of his room he left it as it was to do a quick inspection himself of the ship.

Hopefully any contraband had been dealt with by Plo and the others and it would save them any potential problems later on so long as everything looked in order. Whether any of the others of the Sith group noticed him as he did a quick walk around he didn't know and did not spare them a glance. He was being Captainly now, everything else could wait until the inspectors were off the ship and satisfied. His bright green eyes seemed to penetrate everything.

Finally after doing a quick circuit and disposing of anything that looked vaguely suspicious he headed to the cargo bay. Stoic face on, the confident posture and stride of a Captain that was used to commanding a ship, even a pirate one. Hand behind his back he passes the inspectors as they made their way inside to begin their tour.

“Well I see your boys have made themselves right at home” Lennox said with a slight sneer as he strode towards the leader of the group, his billy club right near Plo’s stomach “And i’m sure you whacking one of the owners of the ship is going to get you anywhere”

His piercing green eyes bored into the lead inspector “I’m Captain Lennox Jerod, Captain of this vessel. I am pretty sure everything will be in order and you can be on your merry way.” he folded his arms across his chest “We had the correct codes to come down so i’m sure you will find we have every right to be here, military lockdown or not”

There was no way to know of course if the inspectors would find even the smallest thing and claim it was contraband but with him and Plo together hopefully they could ensure this ship remained in their hands.

They would soon find out.

TAG: @Darth_wanderguard , plus anyone else who has seen Jerod on his walkabout.

 

IC: Soliloquy
Earth, Wind, and Fire - The Battle of Chaos

Did you know what the most disappointing thing was? Is? This, this right here. This moment in time for him had to be a culmination and so was a saddening prospect. If he had still had the Revanite in his collection that had chosen self sacrifice to help save himself and the others on Moraband in the old universe he would of ripped this struggling blind clone out by the roots and implanted him in there. A far better apprentice that one had been. Perhaps time had been a factor.

After all he had had a hundred years to contemplate what a rock was in every feasible fashion and way. A test which only should of taken fifty years, but Soliloquy had been a slow learner back then, and so he had had to share the long path for his students as well. Well, those that were worthy of the test after surrendering a portion of their soul to either be a part of the quorum or to be relegated to battery duty. Some were really only suited to be consumed, some were doomed to it, and others, the rare few, were good enough to possibly be saved. After himself of course.

Still his prodigy was a disappointment. He no longer had need of a battery, so. What to do with scraps? She had attempted to save his and her own life, but had failed the greater calling in the process. Not to mention, he was a master at Tutaminis/Barrier/Recoil. To protect him from masonry? It was sad. What little did she think of her Master? In turn, what should he then think of her? "If you shall fail at spirit, lack in mind, then let us focus on the physical and favor. Lifting her in the Force he pushed her inside a Force Barrier Bubble to the medical ship. "Bring me trauma bacta and medkit." he simply stated before turning. The glass shards pulverizing under his passing into sand as he progressed. A sand that lifted and danced around him as he made his way to the downed Insipid.

"Well you accept my help. Now?" He simply asked as he stood there. Looking down on a face that showed no change, not to the Son and not to Snoke. A broken and battered thing that laid upon the ground. "It is still too soon, is it not?" he simply asked. Pointing out the obvious. The perilous position the Sith leader had put himself in. Still, he would do nothing without acceptance. Without a sign of trust. Otherwise, what was the point?

TAG: @Sinrebirth , @ All at Chaos Battle.

 

IC: Leda
Kesh - wtf is going on?

Leda snapped out of it.

“It” being something she couldn’t quite explain, but whatever it had been was broken by the massive, concussive shockwave that tore through her surroundings and sucker punched her face-forward, tossing her body like a ragdoll. Sailing through the air with debris hovering along with her like a threatening cloud, that was when her brain clicked back on and with sudden awareness, she screamed.

The torrent of darkness in the Force, the radiating pain of injuries newly felt, the sheer chaos of events taking place simultaneously – all of it at once ripped into her consciousness and wrenched her back to the present. Just in time.

Just in time to see the gorgeously catastrophic implosion overhead – a ship, reduced to ripped sections of hull and other parts vaporized completely into a sort of sparkling fireworks display that seemed to play out in slow motion. It was Leda’s mind, processing too much at once, grasping at the Force to gain an understanding of all that was happening. Of course, it was no use. She had no idea.

Leda’s body finally – abruptly - returned to the ground, smacking down onto her side before bouncing into a roll that slowed almost immediately due to lost momentum. The wind was shoved from her lungs and with a wheezing screech of a breath, she sucked in all the air she could and then panted for more, pushing onto her battered and bloodied forearms, arching her neck back to look for her companions.

The only one her yellow-green eyes locked onto was Lord Manticore, and at that exact moment his anger and rage lashed out at her. At its forceful touch she latched onto it, feeding her wounds and confusion and using his powers to regain some of her own strength. It was instinctual and it was not meant to take away from him at all, but it could not be helped. She had done so without even knowing she was doing it.

Still struggling to breathe, she moaned into a growl, bolstered ever so slightly by the increased magnitude of the dark side being used by the zabrak. Trembling, belatedly realizing he was being attacked, she did the only thing she could think of doing and returned whatever small amount of strength she had taken, manifesting physically in a forceful shove outward with both arms towards the unknown assailant that aimed a charge for her Lord.

TAGS: @greyjedi125 @Sinrebirth @darthbernael

 

*GM Approved Actions

IC: Syren
Dark Dreamer, Taris

Having successfully dropped Erebus off… somewhere… Syren was free of other distractions and her mind was focusing on one thing and one thing only.

That was Aryan Graul.

“****,” she snarled, pacing near a floor-to-ceiling view pane at some isolated section of the ship, much like where she had encountered Ike days prior. In fact, this might’ve been the very same spot, but she was in a very different mood.

She drew up short and tensed, balling her free hand into a fist at her side and emitting an impulsive burst of energy in the Force. A few controls on a panel nearby sparked and went dark as the interface dented inward, her bag she had been carrying flying off down the darkened corridor as the only visual displays of her ire.

And jealousy.

“No, nope, not jealous,” she muttered to herself, taking the umpteenth swig from a bottle of amber liquid. Her flask had been drained long ago while she had tried to forget what she had seen, but instead she had only dropped further into obsession.

She had felt his eyes on her earlier at the briefing, their scrutinizing weight looking her over as she had done her best to give him a wide berth. It had made her feel anxious, if only because of the feelings it stirred deep in the pit of her stomach when she knew he was truly seeing her. She shifted her weight, rolling her neck as if to brush his attentions off but ultimately she couldn’t help herself. Turning her own stare in his direction, they were prevented from locking eyes as he had looked away at the same moment, allowing her time to examine him the way he had her. However, Syren didn’t actually take note of his clean and refined appearance, nor the fact that there was clarity behind his face now and understanding in his expression – a sign that he was finally on the mend.

No, all the assassin had eyes for was the woman he had drawn close to his side, latched onto his hip like a doll little girls carried to play with. She followed the nonexistent space between them down to their interlaced hands, holding each other tight.

Her cheeks had grown hot and her jaw clenched as she inappropriately reached for the pair in the Force, sensing ease and comfort between them. There was a definite connection she hadn’t bothered placing as she then also picked up on Aryan’s heightened emotions, a result of his body pressed in against hers?

Syren couldn’t stay for the end of Plo’s orders because she didn’t trust what type of reaction she might have if she had watched them any longer. So she had fled the scene quietly and undetected, off to deal with Erebus and avoid whatever the hells she was feeling. But now… now she was alone again and possessed with the idea of the two of them. And drinking more, and after reading Plo’s message on her comm, it was all the permission she needed to hoist her bag back from where she had tossed it in order to find the small stash of spice she had left.

port authrities want to sweep ship fro contrabadn. Hide booze, weapns, drugs NOW

Laughing darkly, Syren crouched low and inhaled the remainder of the light brown substance up through a nostril – only about a quarter of the amount she had taken previously. Still, its effects offered a large enough smack to her senses to send her tipping back onto her hip and the bottle of liquor spilling and rolling away, her hands grasping the floor for stability as her mind was sent into outer orbit. Everything around her felt fluid, ripples in the hull beneath her fingertips and even the stagnant, recycled air brushing her skin with a soft breeze. It was positively wonderful, to be weightless in both body and mind.

Eventually evening out as the spice leveled throughout her systems, she inhaled loudly and shook her head to reorient herself to her surroundings. There were whispers that began tickling the back of her mind, which she initially attributed to the drug – wouldn’t be the first time she heard voices in her head, either when inebriated or completely sober. But while climbing slowly to her feet it became more and more clear that they were real and not a manifestation.

Wobbling a step, she threw her bag over her shoulder and nearly lost her balance entirely but caught herself, beginning to move in the direction of the mysterious chatter. It echoed oddly in her ears, turning into a sort of physical sensation that tingled over her extremities. She moaned, rubbing a hand roughly back through her crimson hair and then randomly giggled as a result.

Under any other circumstances she would have been having a really good time… but, there was Plo and the inspectors, remember? And the booze that still needed to be drank, er, disposed of, and those voices… who was speaking?

Rounding a corner there was a whiff of clear thinking as something broke through her spice-induced haze; Aryan.

Syren froze and saw them – him and that woman. What was her name? Who gave a kriff what her name was. They were standing within their respective personal space, they were alone, and they were conversing in an intimate fashion. All she could think of suddenly was this... intruder's hands on him in ways only Syren thought she could touch him, her mouth over his, their bodies caught up in one another…

Next thing she knew she was right next to them, very close, displaced air following her an instant later. “Who the frak are you, *****?” she spat into the woman’s face, ignoring Aryan entirely, fully entranced by violent tendencies that the spice only fed and encouraged. There was no need to wait for a response and Syren didn’t actually want one, instead using a hand to quickly swipe out at about waist-height towards the stranger; a small, meaningless gesture but the intent and emotion she put behind it made it far worse.

There was a loud ‘snap’ and then several crunching, tearing sounds as the woman’s knees buckled backwards and her legs snapped completely in half above the calves.

The grotesque noises were sweetly satisfying, causing her to shudder in pleasure before she finally slid her eyes to Aryan. Any howls of pain or screams of agony that may have been coming from her victim would fall on deaf ears because she only wanted to hear him.

“You will never be able to replace me,” she whispered in a threatening tone, her hands starting to tremble. The assassin's already thin restraint from outright slaughtering this woman was only held in check by the man before her.

Now she wasn’t so sure she could blame the spice for her behavior.

TAGS: @HanSolo29 @Darth_wanderguard

 

Combo with Sinrebirth

Darth Cocytus
Dark Lord Ascending Part 6

Cocytus rolled his eyes at the Phantom Hesper's babbling, finding her words to be nonsense. Nonetheless he stood his ground nonetheless, glaring with intense anger and hatred, as he called upon the Dark Side to guide him. This would be the fight of his life and his true test to prove his prowess as a Sith.

No sooner than the fight began the kaminoan quickly and swiftly maneuvered his blade tightly to block and parry each of Phantom Hesper's attacks. His lightsaber went upward to meet and parry the opponent's aerial downward slash. Meanwhile his free hand reached out into the force to release a surge of Sith Lightning upon her exposed areas.

The lightning coruscated across her form, and the Phantom reared back, and then grinned, eyes glowing white and the slash of a grin expanding. Her arms erupted, dropping the lightsaber to the floor, as tentacles grabbed at his long, scarred throat and willowy arms, enmeshing her.

Come, Cocytus.

When two become one, power is born.

Is this not your Rule of Two enacted?

Cocytus gagged slightly as tendrils grabbed hold of the neck and arms. Snarling in anger he used all his might to flex his blade around to cut through each tendril that held him before swiftly slashing through the others. Now free and seeing his opponent disarmed, he charged towards, now wielding both his curved crimson blades and slashed out at the phantom.

Only two there are. No more, no less.

A Master to embody the power and an Apprentice to crave it

Now through a contest of strength, Apprentice comes to claim and take it.

The blades slashed her torso as the Phantom backed away, opening rents in her skin which burst with an inky ichor, which itself oxidised on contact with the air and formed a thick smog that she vanished into. Ordinary wounds were not lasting, and they sealed up in mere moments.

It was as if she were dead, and being animated by some external entity.

Which, in this twilight realm of illusion, was correct, after all.

In short order, she would twist her body, elongating it to reach behind him and try to wrap her cauterized stump-tentacles around his throat. They were hot, and would scald his skin as they closed.

Cocytus glared as Phantom Hesper bursted into inky smog upon his attack. This becoming no ordinary duel between Master and Apprentice. Yet how could it in this illusion world conjured up by a long dead Ancient Sith Lord?

The Sith Kaminoan held his ground and kept his mind within the Force, fueling the Dark Side with his anger and hate. A warning flared in his mind as the Phanton Hesper made her move to twist her body and quickly spun around as she got behind him.

"FIGHT ME LIKE A SITH!"

Cocytus snarled as he swiped his blades together to cut down the Phantom down in two. He flinched nonetheless with a hiss as he felt the scorching brush of Phantom Hesper's stumps against his neck.

She elongated her tentacles, allowing the blow to cleave off a wad of tentacles at the shoulder, and she stepped away, allowing the tentacles she had left behind to try and reach up for his mouth and nose and ears and eyes - black ichor bubbling beneath the surface.

You wish to be a Sith, in a world where you know that there are far worse things than Sith.

Why would I fight you as one?

When you are afraid of the darker things?

She allowed the detached part of her to have its way with Cocytus, animating it from afar and merely idly smiling; superior, unperturbed by his greatest efforts.

Cocytus gagged and groaned as the tendrils tried relentlessly to enter his facial orifices, terror taking control of his body and mind. The kaminoan dropped his lightsabers, both extinguishing upon hitting the ground, as he desperately tugged, pulled and tore at each of them away. The Dark Lord of the Sith glared back at the Phantom Hesper, still not sure what kind of game Darth Andeddu was playing at.

Fear the Darker Things?

Fear leads to Anger...

Anger leads to Hate...

Hate... leads to Passion!

Through Passion I gain Strength

Through Strength I gain Power

Through Power I gain Victory

and through Victory my Chains are Broken!

The Force shall Free me!

Cocytus gave out a terrible war cry and summoned his blades back to his hand. Any and all tendrils that tried to return to his face would be either cut down to to sunder, tossed aside with the Force, or incinerated by a jolt of Sith Lightning. Cocytus would then charge once again at the Phantom Hesper, relishing in his fear, his anger, and his hatred, fueling the Dark Side of the Force, as he lashed out at her. His passions now was to destroy this creature and finally pass whatever test this was that Anddedu had in mind for him, and he would do it no matter the costs.

The piece of her immolated, she grinned at the Kaminoan.

Good.

Gooooood.

The blade lashed out, cleaving down her chest and sending her dropping to the floor around his feet - and that didn't stop her, with a rent in her chest, with an arm of tentacles missing - she enmeshed herself in his legs and caused him to topple, straddling his chest and her mouth broadening to expose teeth - so many, many, large, teeth -

Cocytus yelped slightly in surprise upon suddenly finding himself knocked onto the ground by the bisected Phantom. He looked around fearfully, thus angrily and hatefully, to find the Phantom getting onto his chest opening her mouth to expose her many, many teeth. The kaminoan glared and gritted his teeth as he quickly raised hands. A sudden storm of Sith Lightning was once again unleashed from his fingertips onto the creature, mixed with Force Push to shove her off of his chest.

I grow annoyed of this game! What are you teaching me, Darth Andeddu?

The lightning incinerated the creatures face, burning skin from skeleton, though the push did nothing. Its burning visage leered forward, but the lightning did push its head back for that moment - the Phantom was now a corpse, animated by nothing.

Andeddu laughed.

I am teaching you that your certainty that you could have beaten your Master is nothing against your fear.

Sith have no fear.

I sense much fear in you.

Darth Cocytus got back up onto his feet and stared at the chard corpse of the Phantom Hesper. He gave out a breath of triumph and relished in his anger and hatred. It wasn't really his master that he destroyed, but it was close enough.

Cocytus then gave out a laugh at Darth Andeddu's words. A laugh most inhuman, even for a Kaminoan.

Sith have no fear?! That's Krayt Spit! Fear is of the Dark Side and what drives our passions! Fear fuels our anger which fuels our hatred! It was fear that lead me to victory against your Phantom and what will lead me to victory against all my enemies! It was fear that led you to conquer death, even if just for a time! A power I will now take from you!

The corpse shifted slightly, as if to prove him wrong - and then died.

Cocytus would emerge from the illusion world, the Holocron growing silent and withdrawn.

I acknowledge you for now. But my secrets I will share in my own time.

Cocytus's eyes shifted back to the corpse, at first in fear, and then in anger and hate as he summoned his lightsabers in a fighting stance. However, the corpse stilled and the illusion dissipated, returning him to the reality of the shuttle. The kaminoan glared at the Holocron contemptfully.

"Fine..." Cocytus sneered, "But sooner or later I will claim what is rightfully mine..."

He turned away from the Holocron and returned to the cockpit. He sat next to his apprentice, staring out into the blueness of hyperspace. "We are close to Korriban." Cocytus spoke, "I can feel the power of the Dark Side intensifying. Can you feel it?"

His eyes shifted as Hyperspace shifted into the real space, and a dark, blood red and orange world loomed before them. "Welcome to the home of the Sith, Lady Styx." Cocytus said coldly, "Welcome to the beginning of your learning and training."

@Sinrebirth

 

IC: Serapis, Renn and all of Sinrebirth's characters
Hapan Throne Room

Skywalker had broken into the Throne Room! Serapis stood waiting for things to settle out, standing in ready stance. But then, the Jedi practically ignored him. Was his Force presence that weak for now? Don't look a gift fathier in the mouth. Serapis was dressed as a Royal Guard, he would become one.

"How dare you break into the Hapan Royal Throne Room?!? Sir! I don't know how your New Republic views things, but vigilanties are not welcome in the Hapes Consortium! Queen, get behind me, please!" He moved to be between the newly crowned Queen and Skywalker.

Renn stood there, taking in the Skywalker, he could sense the man’s presence in the Force, his personal presence as well. His head cocked to the side for a second, for a man who professed to be the Jedi Grandmaster he was wrapped tight in a bundle of emotions. Renn made no initial movement to reach for his weapons, seeking instead to see what this odd Jedi would do to initiate whatever was to come.

He smiled slightly, feeling the direction of what Luke was focused on. He began clapping slowly, not truly mocking the Jedi but letting the man know he could feel all the energy swirling around and enjoying the show.

“You must be Luke Skywalker, the Grandmaster of the Jedi. I came because I sensed the chaos here, same as you, and found this catastrophe, only in time to keep the evil being who did this from destroying the new Matriarch.” He finished with a gesture at Ta’a.

Luke's hand raised to throw Serapis, a bodily Force push of strength as he sensed the darkness within the 'Royal Guard', and he refocused on Renn.

"Not Grandmaster," Luke said, frowning. That was the second time he'd been called Grandmaster. "There is no Jedi Order; there is just me." And my sister, but Leia had turned her back on the path of the Jedi after a vision of the future.

The two little statements connected this man with the Kaminoan he had met, the dark and mysterious one with knowledge of the Acolytes of the Beyond, and a world called Kesh that was not in any record he could fine - and solidified his concerns about Darth Cocytus, though he knew not his real name -

And made him certain of his decision.

"I see through your lies, Acolyte. Whatever protection you offer is the chains you would strangle Hapes with."

Ta'a's eyes widened and she looked at Renn -

Luke sensed another, a woman, peering in the room, and detected a familial connection between the 'new Matriarch' and the other. She looked from one to the other to Luke, and Secciah went to speak -

Meanwhile, Serapis struggled to his feet, muttering, "This being thrown against the walls is getting really old." He looked at Luke. Knowing history, he spoke to Luke, "Lost Ben to the Dark Side, yet?!? Just go run off to your little island, little man. The Republic doesn't need your representation!" Knowing his penchant for convenient Dark Side dalliances, he was hoping he would tilt a bit darker.

Renn observed, out of the corner of his eye as Serapis dealt with Luke’s attack. He shook his head slightly at what the other Sith said, hoping it helped. But something seemed off in what Luke had said. “Wait, Acolyte? You don’t seriously mean the Acolytes of the Beyond do you?” He doubled over laughing, “Hold…..hold on….a sec.”

His laughter continued but he was able to stand up again, “Ok,” he said as he got himself mostly under control, “Ok, so are you trying to say I’m a dark side Force User with enough power to do what you see here or are you trying to insult me by saying I’m one of those twisted non Force Users who worship the Dark Side? Which is it? I can’t be both, Skywalker.”

He sighed, “Damn this would be so much easier if Ood Bnar were awake again already but we’re, ummm, 5 years too soon for that.” His eyes flew up to Skywalkers, a semi shocked look on his face, “Uhhhhh, strike what I just said. Never mind, didn’t say anything.”

Luke tuned out their comments. They were merely snarling, and trying to confuse. Another strategy in common with the Kaminoan. He resolved to head back there when done here.

Secciah spoke up. "They killed the Queen Mother and forced my sister to cooperate!"

Ta'a grimaced as the words were thrown into the room, and she stepped towards her. "My sister speaks truth," she said smoothly. "The Sith attacked two of my Battle Dragons and my mother attempted to entreaty with them, but they killed her. Only by forcing concessions from me were we able to survive."

Luke took a step towards Ta'a and Secciah, standing between them and Renn and Serapis.

They had told the truth, after a fashion, and so, taking a deep breath, Luke walked forward, his green blade ready. He had his off hand ready to deflect any thrown weapons. But he knew that these Acolytes, Sith or not, would take more and more steps to appear benign before they struck at him.

Serapis chuckled. A bitter laugh. "Always so duplicitous. You give the Sith a run for the money. You should be proud."

He turned to Renn. "Leadership made a mistake sending us into this snakepit. We should cut our losses and get out of here. I'm disgusted." He punctuated his words by spitting at the queens feet.

Renn continued to laugh, he could feel the direction of Luke’s thoughts through the way his emotions flowed. “Arrogant Jedi, if you used your senses you’d feel more of the truth than the spoken word allowed. But you’re too caught up in dispensing twisted justice to actually pay attention. Screw honeyed words when the truth can be so much more harmful.”

He turned his attention mostly away from the advancing Jedi, eyes raking Ta’a and Secciah, as he responded to Serapis, “My friend, these two would be very suited to the courts of the ancient Sith. Which reminds me of an old saying, something along the lines of how much trust you should put in the generosity of Princes.” His smile turned predatory indeed as a mouth full of sharp teeth appeared in the smile he turned on the new Matriarch.

“Good thing,” he patted his belt in several places so as not to reveal the exact location as he looked directly in Ta’a’ eyes, “I recorded every interaction I had with either of these two and their late mother, whether you did or not may not matter, but I’m willing to bet our new friend over there,” his hand gestured in the direction of Luke, “would find the contents of these very interesting indeed, perhaps fatally so for these oh so trustworthy women.”

His smile still in place he turned back to the Jedi, his sabers now in two of his four hands, unlit, “As I said, the truth is so much more satisfying to tell, and much more cutting than a lie.”

Serapis turned to Renn. "I disagree, sir." He paused for a moment. Sir. Do his species even have a sex? Anyway... "If Luke Skywalker wants to make a deal with these two back-biting vipers, let 'im."

He walked over to the dais and sat down at the foot of the throne. "He'll then see exactly the type of dealmakers they are!"

Luke was firm. "You are mistaken. I do not trust them. I simply stand in the path of what you want and would ask you surrender. You are under arrest until an investigation can be completed into what has happened here."

"You have no jurisdiction here," Ta'a said, short and sharp. "This is Hapan Space."

"Only just," Luke said. "This is the border between New Republic and Hapan territory, and the Force doesn't follow borders. I am not here as a New Republic citizen; I am here as a Jedi; they are here as darksiders."

He was a hands distance from each of them now. "Please. There is no need for violence."

"HA!" Serapis couldn't contain himself. "A Jedi court?!? And are you prosecutor, judge and jury? Well, Renn, we'd better turn ourselves over quick!" He doubled over in a fit of laughter. When he'd recovered a bit, he continued between giggles. "Honestly, Jedi Luke, you'd better turn yourself over to that court. We've all heard of your dark side dalliances at poor old Jabba's palace."

“Serapis this truly is one screwed up dilemma. These Hapans are either playing a long game or are not to be trusted in the least, in which case they should be left to their own devices and not the deal that was made. And this Jedi does not seem to care about their sovereignty so glad I’m recording and having it broadcast to a certain server, so that his actions and arrogance and refusal to see the truth is broadcast across the galaxy, including the New Republic, where it will destroy his reputation forever.”

He turned to Luke, seeing how close he was. He took a pair of steps back to maintain distance as he spoke “You want us to surrender for defending ourselves from constant attack, in a citizen’s arrest with no authority to arrest us in the sphere of power, breaking I don’t know how many treaties that are in place between Hapes and the New Republic, I do not believe I will allow you to arrest us.”

He saber filled hands twitched toward the Jedi for a moment then returned to facing downward, unlit, “If you force the issue I will act as any other innocent being would and defend myself. So choose, Luke Skywalker, destroy whatever alliance Hapes and the New Republic have by forcing the issue or leave until you have true, definitive evidence that all that was done here was done so purely for the desire to destroy.”

Tags: @Sinrebirth , @darthbernael, @darthhelinith, @Snokers

 

Vyatoris/Azeth Drost
Kesh

Vyatoris watched the chaos he had willingly become an accessory to unfold, silently observing as Insipid was practically shredded by glass and debris, the shockwave of the destroyed ship tossing his body carelessly to the side. The Miraluka cringed at every landing impact, each fresh wound he had caused upon his Emperor.

Insipid, for better or worse, had little chance of survival if not immediately attended to. Vyatoris' eyebrow twitched. The task was complete. One final betrayal. Grimacing, he projected one final thought towards Siam. The price has been paid. I leave his underlings to you. I would only get in the way..

Ignoring the bile rising in his throat, Vyatoris was secretly pleased Insipid had survived the blast. It meant his actions could be downplayed, if not completely hidden. If Insipid survives, and Siam dies, then ultimately, nothing changes. He could simply say he was forcing the enemy to be overconfident, using Insipid as bait, whatever. If the Emperor dies, and Siam is victorious, well, then Vyatoris would simply fade away in some dark depth of the galaxy, never to be seen again..

Win Win, really.

The Miraluka's ruminations were cut short as the shards of glass were suddenly and utterly replaced by a torrent of brick and mortar, the result of a nearby building exploding violently. The pair in front of him, Manticore and Bernael, lept into action, the former directly engaging with the robed enemy, while the latter..

Bernael knew. HE KNOWS. Alarm klaxons reverberated within the confines of the Miraluka's skull. He had to deepen the charade. Otherwise there would be no way he would be able to escape.

Vyatoris enveloped himself fully within his force barrier, deflecting a majority of the debris which came his way, yet ultimately finding himself being slowly pushed backwards, step by step, by the onslaught. Momentarily, he allowed his own mental barriers to "slip", broadcasting to anyone focusing on him to feel the full brunt of the stresses weighing upon his mind. Of course, not the sources, those he would attempt to take to the grave. No, they would simply see how close he was to his limit.

The half-second of negligence would be his downfall. Shrapnel of various sizes suddenly slipped through his barriers, striking or slicing straight through any inch of his exposed skin. The bile in his mouth was quickly replaced by the taste of metal, of blood, and Vyatoris awkwardly twisted himself out of the main trajectory of the blast, taking the moment to ignite his single saber and adopt a tight Soresu opening defense. Anything he couldn't block through the force, he would cut down with his saber.

He watched wearily as Manticore and Bernael began their attacks against the robed foe, for the moment hanging back as a mere observer. Part of him screaming to jump in and assist, while another, told him to simply flee, or better yet, create a situation where he could be knocked out of the fight altogether, plausible deniability and all. His breathing grew ragged.

It was too much. Too much to bear. He didn't want this! Did he? What DO I want? His brow involuntarily twitched once more, as he cast his gaze over to the crumpled mass that was Insipid. Please.. Tell me what I want..?

The twitch spread to his dominant hand, his lightsaber's blade beginning to rattle back and forth, as he ultimately remained rooted in place.

Tags: @Sinrebirth @darthbernael @greyjedi125

 

IC: Vex Nolzit (AKA Darth Erebus)
Aboard the Dark Dreamer

Vex roamed the room where he was left by Syren endlessly, waiting to be gathered by someone else. The door was unlocked, but he knew better than to try to run. So he stayed, waiting endlessly for anyone to appear.

When someone finally did appear, it was nobody he had seen before on the ship. He recognized his uniform as that of a ship inspectors. He smiled at the man plainly as he worked his way around the room, checking every nook and cranny he could find. However, Vex knew almost immediately that this man must be new at his job, as with his keen eye he had already spotted three or so secret compartments that the inspector had passed right over. He shook his head, and mumbled under his breath, "Amateur", letting out a slight laugh which he masked as a cough.

Soon enough, the man finished his inspection and moved out of the room, leaving Erebus to continue to pace the floor alone, waiting for anyone to come for him...

TAGS: @Darth_wanderguard and @QueenSabe7 (Mentioned)

 

IC: Anark
Dark Dreamer...


port authrities want to sweep ship fro contrabadn. Hide booze, weapns, drugs NOW

Lord Anark Had been yanked abruptly from yet another meditation session. He read Plo's message with a grunt and a ground his teeth. He wasn't harboring any drugs nor alcohol. He looked at his lightsaber which still levitated in front of him.

"Nobody will be getting this," he whispered to himself.

They can try to seize her and they'll feel her blade.

Ice and fire all in one.

He chuckled. The Collective spoke to him nicely, gently. They were on his side today.

He stood and collected the floating saber hilt. When he looked down at his bare body he winced, not at the scars but at the way he was - he'd stopped his usual training since arriving in this time and his stomach had gone soft. His arms, once tight and wrapped in muscle hung and flapped when he moved. This would not do.

”Ladies and gentlemen this is the bridge speaking. Welcome to Taris spaceport. The ship will be boarded shortly by spaceport inspectors, simply a formality to ensure there is no contraband being smuggled on-world. Senior staff are requested to report immediately to cargo, while all other passengers are instructed to remain where they are until the inspection is complete and further notice is given. As always, we hope you’ve enjoyed your trip and thank you for choosing Dark Dreamer.”

Anark tore his eyes away from the mirror and grabbed his garments which lay in a heap on the table beside him.

When he was dressed he concealed his saber at the back of his belt instead of the front and pulled his outer robe over it. He checked his comm once again for any more messages before he headed out.

Time to see what's to be done here...

TAG: @Darth_wanderguard @Lady Belligerent @QueenSabe7 @HanSolo29 @Jerjerrod-Lennox @Quinlan Vos ​

 

IC: Manticore
Darkness, Fury and Sacrifice



The would-be-usurper was fast. Powerful. He was clearly more than a match for any single Sith present- perhaps with one exception.

Yet still, he lacked the one thing Darth Insipid had, the one thing that made him lesser.

The Robed Man absorbed the lance of fire the zabrak launched at him, spun out of Manticore’s saber strike, while managing a powerful parry in the process.

Pain drew power from Hate and acted, causing Hunger to do its work.

If it bleeds. It can be killed.

But the Lord of Hate had a better idea.

Through the Force, Manticore was in a battle-rhythm with Leda and Bernael, working in-tandem to achieve a common goal.

The Robed Man had been cut by Bernael’s blade, his pain was undisguised as was his powerful howl. Manticore had not been standing directly in front of their enemy, but he had been close. Only thanks to his already enhanced reflexes was he able to slide to one side and raise a many layered defense. Telekinesis, Pyrokinesis, Tutaminis. And yet still, he experienced excruciating pain the likes he had not been subjected to since his days of torturous training. The zabrak felt all his defenses buckle and peel away one by one- his skin and flesh blistering and burning. He too howled, but in dark primal defiance, calling on all the hate, all the anger- all his rage- to sustain him like only the darkside could.

The Robed Man’s scream and force exertion was so powerful, that all the swriling glass and debris surrounding them was vaporized.Then a storm of electricity exploded from him.

Not since his duel and death at the hands of Darth Haretisch had he faced such power; but now he knew how to defend against it. He’d learned how to employ tutaminis against this power and allow it to flow through him like water- and still arcs of power managed to do their hideous work.

This was a worthy display of power, which confirmed all that he needed.

Against all expectation, The Lord of Hate stood; wreathed powerfully in the darkside. He only had his charred and blackened skin as vestment, his horns were also blackened and only ebony strands of hair wafted awkwardly upon his head. His red eyes shone like hateful beacons upon his black and lipless countenance. When he spoke, it was in a gravely dark rasp of someone that by all rights should be dead.

“Emperor Insipid!” the zabrak called out, then coughed once, as he moved to circle the Robed Man who was on the floor, at least for the moment. His breath coming in raggedly.
Not to mention the unspeakable agony he was in. Agony, that for the moment was translated into power, thanks to the darkside of the force.

“This usurper dares to wear your vestments.”

Manticore recognized the robes of The Son whose visage Insipid had adopted for himself.

“This man has offered himself to become your new body. He is no sith, but will make a worthy sacrifice.”

Indeed, this man was no sith at all. What did he know of Pain, Hunger, Hate or Anguish for that matter? He was just an overpowered and delusional puppet who needed to be put to proper use.

If they all attacked in unison, they stood a chance to rightfully take their place in this timeline. Oblivion was their only alternative; all options came at a cost.

The zabrak had heard part of what had been spoken. The Miraluka- Vyatoris- he had betrayed them somehow. Insipid, he was critically wounded. Was the miraluka acting alone, or was he an agent of the Robed Man? Would he kill the Emperor while they were engaged in mortal combat? Would Insipid take the Robed Man as his new body, or hesitate, seeing that he could be killed while transferring? Manticore could definitely appreciate the Emperor’s dilemma, however, there was no time to vacillate or waver.

An immediate decision needed to be made, for all their sakes.

Manticore wasn’t even concerned if he would need to spend weeks in a bacta tank or not, assuming he did not become a casualty of war. His only focus and only concern was the establishment of the Sith Order here and now- and the removal of any and all obstacles, whatever the cost.

‘I may not have much time’ He sent to Leda and Bernael through the force. ‘If we are going to act, we must act as one’.

So, would the Emperor consider taking the Robed Man’s body? Clearly, it would make a much more desirable vessel for sure. Or would Insipid have his New Council execute the would-be-usurper as punishment for his affront?

Was there even a third option?

It was only thanks to his extensive training in the Sith Arts combined with his knowledge of Teras Kasi somatic techniques that the was even able to stand or move. However, the cost in power was great and he would burn through it much faster than ‘normal’. Which meant, they had to act.

It was obvious to him the man was playing possum, feigning weakness. It didn't matter. The trap needed to be sprung, then countered.

Suddenly the zabrak was in speedy motion, his lightsaber twirling in one hand as he pivoted from one side of the Robed Man to the other, the darkside roaring potently through him and around him. In his free hand, he formed a powerful Mind Shard which he poured his will into. Manticore’s intent was to drive the darkside weapon to the base of the man’s skull in an attempt to disrupt his neural pathways; failing that, he would strike him down with the blade of his crimson weapon- that- or make an opening for the others to finish what he'd started.



Tag: @Sinrebirth, @darthbernael, @QueenSabe7, @Silvertough, @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Soliloquy
Violence on Kesh, Also known as Birth

There was a collision, and then a shockwave, the war of the old tenants and the new. Both terribly young. Too young. He doubted they even all truly knew their own voices. It was sad, it was wrenching, and it was terribly droll. When you see something often enough you eventually learn to live with it, ignore it, or simply neglect it like an unwanted break in the clouds. Still he was listening as the debris and glass gave dramatic ambiance to the whole situation as Insipid rolled over, blood in his mouth. Had the fool bitten his own cheek? Tongue? Unfamiliar bodies he supposed would do that to you, especially if one was young and inexperienced in changing such things.

Shimmer was rushing with bacta patches and medical supplies, gathered in her arms, a dutiful valet. Perhaps that was what was a good use for such as her. Valet to the powerful, serving in the shadows as a companion and tender. The most dangerous and powerful of positions such a thing could be. If he found it to let it happen. Still he pushed it away as he awaited, in silent myopic stare upon the form. The bloody words, laced with spittle so that the blood seemed to form running strings oozed at the mouth. Speaking of saving the body and not the spirit that rode it.

"Have you not learned? A tree may rule a forest, or a forest the tree. One without the other is something merely stalling death." he did not know if the other was listening. Then, several things fell into place, a moment where one looks at the pieces the figures upon the Dejarik board and simply appreciates it.

The blind seer was there, his hand twitching on his blade, and Shimmer stopped, looking at him.

"Master...?"

Insipid smiled, red strings dribbling from his mouth.

"Vytorias? Treachery? Now?" Insipid gasped, conscious that Soliloquy was using a degree of his power to merely protect him, a bubble which Vyatoris didn't need protecting - in hindsight. Insipid was proud of the Miraluka. "Well done."

Sian, having affected the attire of the Son in blue and black and red, turned back into the battle surrounding him, sure to focus a degree of the swirling circling shards of glass upon Soliloquy's shield; he wanted Vyatoris to have a fair fight if he decided to fight Soliloquy, of course. Sufficiently taxed, even the mysterious Holocron would struggle with the Miraluka.​

Focusing on his shield a bit more he groaned a deep discordant bassal drone for a moment. "You were due a secret you have not collected. Would you like it now? Witness' cannot be wholly helped, but you have a name. You thus have a choice. Whatever you choose I uphold what I promised. That is the power and the terror of darkness. Circumstances be blasted, we keep our word and are what we are." Meanwhile he kept vaporizing and gathering the nimbus of shards of glass and even masonry bits here and there were added until he formed a dense cloud over the form of Insipid, and his robe parted.

Showing something besides a holocron, or an empty suit with tubes that Shimmer knew. Instead a squat little body stood there in an open white robe for only the three to see. It's belly glowed red with the holocron inside, a glowing target if ever there was one. Then he raised a finger that glowed white and bright. "Ouch." he simply stated in a croaking crackling voice. Above the finger the glass particles seemed to glow in reciprocation before the bits began to coalesce into glass staples that formed floating in the air, and he began to point to the broken body. Looking to pull parts together and flying the staples in rounded side first before sliding along the organs to twist down and bite in to firmly curl their tips into place with a touch of searing heat. He was strained now. He was a target. But he had a promise to keep. Offers fulfilled.



Turning his head looked at the temporary apprentice. "I am mentally around ten thousand years old. Physically?" here was the true strain. To all on the field of battle they yet saw the back of his black and red webbed bioarmor with it's mono eye. To Shimmer and Insipid they saw this squat little healer whose head was rising on a telescoping neck standing in the open shadow of that armor. To Vyatoris. To his 'eyes' to his vision he gave a window of things as they truly were. A glimpse of the parting fog of form to reveal his holocron floating just above the ground, and upon that thing a small body. Seven legs. Hard shell. Moist and glistening despite the hairy features and tiny armored nature of the body whose armor was literal tridimensional runes adorning it. A Croke, if he had the knowledge to place a species to what he now let Vyatoris see. An answer to many questions he had not been explicit to and a gateway to a whole host of more new questions.

"Secrets or favor of the powerful. You must choose your own path Vyatoris. This is your time." These wet glottal words would reach only his ears and then, then the fog would re-coalesce to what Shimmer and Insipid were seeing and even feeling in the Force.

"Choose." and with that public word he focused on his patient. Waving for the bacta and medical supplies Shimmer carried to be put to use. He would wait a breath for an answer before he committed any more power to healing the body before him with a direct application of the Force to surge the cells within.

TAG: @Silvertough , @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Captain Lennox Jerod
Location: Dark Dreamer, Taris

Once again the inspector was giving him lip.

Then he started trailing his club from one of Jerod’s hips to the other and began trailing it down his leg. Jerod gave him a look that could melt durasteel.

If I was Captain of a Star Destroyer I would give you the definition of a smackdown. And you would be groveling on the floor to make me stop.

Then came the pat down, Lennox was expecting this, after all would not the Captain of the ship carry contraband on him. He spread his arms and legs out so the pat down could commence and the inspector was rather thorough. Lennox was expecting him to find his batons as they had just been stuffed down his shirt. But….

“Hm. Seems you’re unarmed,” he announced after he was finished. “We’ll commence our sweep of the ship now. Don’t try to leave until I’ve given the go ahead,” he pointed with attitude to the two men armed with heavy repeating blasters posted at the bottom of the ramp, “or you’ll be dealing with them.”

Why didn't he find the batons? Jerod thought and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he had and wasn't pushing it lest he incur Jerod’s wrath. Or maybe they were so well hidden that the inspector could not find them. Either way Lennox had dodged one there.

Jerod kept the “melting durasteel” look as he left to commence his inspection and turned to Plo who looked rather relieved.

“I, uh... don’t like cops,” why was Plo sounding sheepish? This is not like him...“Had some run ins as a kid on Coruscant and afterward... you never really forget.”

“Well let’s just say it seems some law enforcement are a little more trigger happy than others. They like the rough and tumble to show they are in control. I’m not surprised that you don’t like them, these lot must seem like a bit of deja vu for you”

“Could you find Bellorum and Ike? I’m concerned they’ll be the first ones to cock this thing up. As for me I think I need to find Vex and Syren - if they get to him, the first thing he’s going to do is rat us out.”

“Yes sir” he said and let Plo go. Bellorum and Ike could decide for a bit of fun to muck things up for everyone, Hel and Xander be damned. They only cared about themselves and what better chance to get their own back on people than getting them all arrested and scupper the chances of finding them both. Actually that was Ike’s style than Bellorum’s as Bellorum seemed to genuinely want to find her. But he wouldn't put it past it both to do something stupid.

He made a quick comm call to the bridge. They had not been inspected yet but Jerod did give them a warning not to give the lead inspector any ideas regarding any contraband, he didn't want to see one of his officers either beaten to a pulp or lead out in chains.

As he made his way back indoors so to speak he could hear screams and what sounded like an argument going on. He was itching to withdraw his batons out of his shirt, go marching in and demand what the hell was going on. No doubt the inspectors would be on their way, plus Plo, Bellorum, Ike and whomever was in the vicinity.

Jerod sighed there is no shortage of fun on this ship. He shook his head. It sounded like whatever was going on was en route to his destination, Bellorum and Ike so he decided to see what was what. And to see if anyone needed a good bollocking.

When he arrived he narrowed his green eyes in anger. Valieri looked like she had had her legs snapped backwards and was being tended to by Cal. Plo was there and looked like he had been hit in the stomach again, Aryan looked hacked off, Syren was being arrested by the lead inspector and looked like she was clearly high on something and Cal was tending to poor Valieri.

“You know I leave for the cargo bay and within two minutes everything goes to hell. What the bloody hell has gone on here?” he waved his hand as if to dismiss what he had just said “Never mind. Looks like an argument has gone on and it got physical, no doubt I can guess as to which of you finished it off” he looked to Syren and Aryan and then shot his gaze down to Valieri then back to the other two.

He looked at the inspector “And I would appreciate it if you stop whacking one of the owners of this ship. There has been enough violence here for one day.” he looked at Syren. Would she resist or try to knock out her captors? Time would tell but hopefully Plo had something in mind.

He looked to Aryan and put a gentle hand on his shoulder “Are you alright?” he said his tone sounding softer “I heard you were on the road to recovery and this is definitely not something that was supposed to happen.”

He shook his head “I don’t know what you and she were arguing about but Valieri did not need to get involved. My hope is that she can recover. Perhaps you could go with her to the medbay, keep an eye on her. And maybe Syren can take a breather and think about what she’s done” he sighed “What a mess”

Screw going towards Ike and Bellorum, hopefully they would be nearby anyway. His first priority was to make sure Valieri made it to the medbay, Aryan didn't have a breakdown and the inspectors got off this ship and soon.

What a day….

TAG: @Darth_wanderguard , @HanSolo29 , @Lady Belligerent @Sinrebirth , @QueenSabe7