Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 947
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 6, 2020 14:26:43 GMT -8
Chaser flew his escape pod into the massive fissures in the planet's city, lower into the underworld of Corescant.
Yung did his best to follow, but he soon initiated his landing sequence. Trying to follow Chaser was making him clench his buttcheeks. He was glad that he was belted in. He was jostled as the pod landed. He quickly stripped any supplies from the pod, took his bag of Kyber ore, and sold the pod to a junk dealer, before doing his best to disappear into the crowded underworld.
Chaser flew lower and lower until he reached a level where the sky seemed like only a memory. He landed the escape pod manually, and gathered up his bug-out bag, and his bag of kyber.
He parked the pod, just in case he wasn't low enough and had to run back to it to flee further into the depths of the planet.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 947
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 9, 2020 18:18:46 GMT -8
The VT-49 Decimator, Iron Maiden II, flew down from orbit, and into the massive vertical decent portals into the eternal night of the underworld sections of the galactic city.
"Statement: This is the way to the infamous Outlander club." IG-LOMM, an IG series Imperial intelligence droid, walked to the landing ramp of the ship. Major Sevet, the new adjutant to Havok (AKA Agent Quasar), was there still puzzling over Agent Quasar's instructions.
"The best pilot I will see..." Sevet had to shrug. "Lomm, how will Quasar know we have the right pilot, if we don't even know if we have the right pilot?"
Lomm replied. "Observation: Quasar seems to have a very specific pilot in mind, but did not seem to be able to communicate more useful details. Further, based on his inability to communicate more precisely, it may be the case that his source of information is unconventional."
Sevet waited for Lomm to clarify further. When Lomm did not, Sevet asked him to. "Could you clarify that observation?"
"Rhetorical Question: Are you aware of a rare race called Miraluka? Elaboration: They are rumored to have no eyes but see with the mystical force power. Requested clarification: Such an inner sight could be considered unconventional. Conjecture: It is not impossible that Agent Quasar has a similar power. Based on Quasar's manner of dress, it is likely that he is an adherent of the mystical force. His robes are worn consistent with such mystical traditions."
Major Sevet nodded. "Sound analysis. I thought it was obvious that he was a Sith. Dressed in black robes, carries a lightsaber, Cortosis gauntlet; Runs off to confront a rogue inquisitor without requesting backup... Definitely a force user."
Lomm had to agree. "Complement: That is a competent classification of Quasar's demeanor from the totality of the circumstances. Distinguishing point: I was merely commenting that Quasar might be prescient."
The copilot of the VT-49 buzzed them on the comlink. "Approaching the Outlander Club, 5 minutes out."
Sevet replied. "Thanks. Once you drop us off, loiter in the area, but don't be too obvious about it."
"You got it, sir."
"Observation: Major Sevet, you might want to change your uniform to fit in the underworld."
"No, I don't think I will. This is not an undercover operation. I am wearing the Imperial Grey, and I am representing the Empire in recruiting the best pilot I can find. Simple as that."
"Query: What happens if the best pilot you can find does not want to be recruited?"
The landing ramp lowered and Major Sevet walked down it before stepping off outside the Outlander Club.
"That's where you come in. Stun him. Don't kill."
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 947
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 13:00:38 GMT -8
In the morning, Yok and the girl were up early. He had to make sure he had time to gather a double portion so he could feed both himself and the girl, his new pet. She wore a the same smock and short pants that she wore when he found her. They climbed through vents and tunnels looking for things to scavenge.
After half a day and not much success, Yok took a rest.
"What's your name?" He asked for the umpteenth time that day.
The girl blinked at Yok.
"Do. You. Understand. Me?"
Without warning, the girl nodded. Yok grinned. Persistance, like Faygan said, always paid off!
"Do. You. Have. A. Name?" Yok pointed to her.
The girl nodded.
"What's your name?" Yok thought it was worth asking again.
The girl shook her head, no.
"Can you talk?" he asked, curious.
The girl nodded, yes.
"Do you want to talk?"
The girl shook her head, no.
"You want me to give you a name?" Yok offered.
The girl shrugged.
"I'll call you Tyna, because you're so tiny." Yok like it.
The girl, newly named Tyna, smiled and nodded.
"Come on Tyna, lets go find something to eat." They both went off happily.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 947
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 13:20:16 GMT -8
Despite being named, Tyna still followed Yok around like a loyal pet. When Yok climbed up ventilation shafts, she watched and then followed. When Yok went down ventilation shafts, she watched and then followed.
They scavenged all day. Yok showed Tyna the tricks he had learned to sift through the garbage to find food. There were a variety of dumping grounds, where higher levels dropped their trash to the lower levels; but the more well-known a spot was, the more Yok or any of Faygan's other vagrant children would have to deal with other scavengers, who were often larger adults.
Tyna learned quickly. The first day Tyna just watched. On the second day, Tyna found a gem stone among the piles of refuse. On the third day, Tyna yanked Yok's arm to follow her. She eventually found several small caches of un-spoiled food. Within a week, Tyna was outperforming Yok, Julian and Daymon in terms of finding things. Each of these windfalls delighted Faygan. He immediately fenced the gem and actually bought real food. For a day, they did not scavenge, but ate "like kings" comparatively speaking.
Tyna wasn't considered a 'pet' anymore. She was one of the "boys." But Yok and Tyna were a pair, and Faygan accounted their success as a team and encouraged them.
"Good work you two!" To Yok: "Yok, Tyna has been great!" To Tyna: "Keep up the good work!" Faygan assumed that Tyna's success was due to Yok's teaching. He was contemplating having Yok take some of the other boys who were under performing out to see if Yok could teach them to be more like Tyna.
Yok and Tyna's increased success resulted in additional attention from Faygan. Every evening he seemed to exclaim, "Look! Look everyone! Look what Yok and Tyna brought in!" Faygan even found a little satchel that matched Tyna's smock. "Thats so you can carry more stuff!"
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 947
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 13:39:22 GMT -8
Julian and Daymon were used to getting more praise before Yok showed up with Tyna. They both resented not being the object of Faygan's praise.
They worked harder to try to find things that would please Faygan but somehow Yok and Tyna would upstage them. For example, one afternoon, Julian bravely ventured up a few levels and brought home a half eaten bucket of Correllian Fried Porg. It was his rotten luck that Tyna found 20 unopened tins of CHAMP canned meat. Daymon also was bolder; he managed to pick several pockets and brought home 36 credit chits, a pack of breath mints, lip balm, a powercell, 4 strips of Kavamalo (a dried fish jerky from fish caught in underworld sewer pools) and a pair of clean socks. On that same day, Tyna found a datapad with a general map of that region of the underworld, a single use Bactamine pack, and a thermos of hot Caf.
Faygan had been working on making his own map of the area for months, and the datapad did most of the work for him; on first taste, Faygan called the Caf "Nector of the gods!" as soon as it passed his lips; medical supplies were always needed.
Faygan did not notice the malcontent of Julian and Daymon. To him they suddenly seemed to simply misbehave more and act belligerent towards the other boys for no reason. What Faygan did notice was the disappearance of the small blaster pistol that Daymon found.
Faygan gave Daymon hell for it, insisting that the boy stole it. Daymon denied taking it. Faygan searched Daymon's possessions and boxed the boy's ears, but Daymon insisted that he hadn't gone near it after bringing it in. It made Faygan scratch his head. Other than Daymon, he couldn't think of who else of his boys might have taken it, or why. He eventually had to let it alone.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 947
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 14:04:13 GMT -8
Yung walked through the crowded ways and lanes of the upper underworld with fifty pounds of Kyber on his back. He kept his comlink on; he planned to eventually link up with Chaser and find a buyer for the kyber ore.
In comparison to the clean air on Ilum, the air in the underworld on Coruscant was dank, polluted and stagnate. Though after the two years mining kyber ore on Ilum, in a smuggler colony, the change of scenery was much appreciated. His stomach groweled. He looked down and batted his belly. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. Since the crazy events and their escape that afternoon, he hadn't had anything to eat. He entered a Durosian corner-mart. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he found it: On the shelf, a tin of CHAMP canned meat. ("it satisfies!"). He bought it and tucked in.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 947
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 14:46:41 GMT -8
It had been two weeks since Yok found Tyna. They built a routine in that time and followed it. That day, they followed their routine, and in no time at all they were scampering through air shafts and vents looking for food.
Before long, they found two fresh garbage piles and a dumpster behind a half-star hostel.
"Look at this Tyna! It's going to be great!" Yok dove in and immediately came up with a third of a bottle of Yumyum: a sugary drink with bubbles in it. "Golly! Jackpot already!" He held up the bottle proudly like a prize.
"I can talk." Dropped like a deadpan bombshell.
"You can?" Yok was so surprised he dropped the Yumyum.
"The voices told me not to." Tyna's face was expressionless.
"The voices?" Yok, still surprised that she could talk, raised an eyebrow.
"I do what they say, or they scream at me." Tyna gave a half smile.
"They scream at you? Are they screaming at you right now for talking to me?"
Tyna slowly nodded.
"What do they tell you to do?" Yok was sort-of getting over the surprise, but Tyna was making him uncomfortable. Part of him wished she hadn't talked, though he was still happy that she did.
"They told me to go with you and wait."
"Oh. Hmmm." Yok thought for a second. "We should probably get back to looking for food." If the voices were yelling at her if she talked, maybe they shouldn't talk.
He smiled at Tyna. She did not smile back. Yok went back to digging in the first garbage pile in the alleyway.
His curiosity over took him and he had to ask: "Did they tell you where the best stuff was?"
"Yes." She looked at her hands.
He didn't really believe her. Yok began digging in the garbage pile beside the dumpster in the alleyway. "What are they telling you to wait for?"
"The perfect moment."
"The perfect moment?" Yok dug deeper in the pile. "What makes a moment perfect?" Yok was checking discarded food containers to see if anything was in them.
"A lack of attention." Tyna pulled Faygan's missing blaster out of her satchel and pointed it at the back of Yok's head.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 947
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 14:48:45 GMT -8
[[OOC: TRIGGER WARNING, This post may contain material that is disturbing for readers. TL;DR SUMMARY: Tyna shot Yok. Yok dies. Chaser finds her, then gets a call from Yung.]]
Chaser followed the general foot traffic, working to find a dive hotel to squat for a night. The prices were too high for the meager credits he happened to have in his pocket. He evacuated the Hopper too fast to grab what he left in the ship's safe. He started diverting his search for lodgings from main streets to side streets and alleys in the hope that he would find someone that rented out a single room.
He heard a blaster shot as he turned a blind corner into a dead end alley. He froze and looked cautiously around the corner.
He saw a heartbreaking sight. A girl, perhaps 8 years old, was holding a blaster by a garbage dumpster and an open ventilation shaft. In a garbage pile at her feet lay a boy, maybe 11 or 12.
"What the hell just happened??"
The girl startled and dropped the blaster. Chaser rushed over. The girl burst into tears.
Chaser quickly inspected the boy. He was dead. A blasterbolt hit him in the back of the head. His head was still smoking. There was a scorch mark on the wall opposite from the girl.
Chaser didn't bother asking what happened again because it seemed pretty clear. The kids were playing or scavenging in the garbage and found a blaster. They were probably playing with the blaster when it went off. It was sad. Almost as sad as his time in the navy that he saw children wander into an unmarked minefield left over from the galactic civil war.
"Where are your parents?" Chaser knelt down to her level and put down the large heavy sack he carried.
"No parents." She bawled. She wore a smock and short pants. They were durable cloths and well worn. At her side she had a matching satchel.
"Don't you have a mother or father?" Chaser picked up the blaster and tucked it in his belt.
"No. They're dead. My grandma sings to me in my head." She wiped her eyes.
"Sings to you?"
"In my head." She nodded with her tear-streaked cheeks.
"What's your name?"
"He called me Tyna." She pointed to Yok's corpse.
"Is that your name? Tyna?"
Tyna shrugged. "I donno."
"What was his name?" Chaser looked over to the boy.
"Yok."
"Was he your older brother?" Chaser was wondering if there was other family around.
Tyna shook her head, no.
"Was he looking out for you?"
Tyna nodded, yes.
"Is there anyone else around that takes care of you, or is looking for you?" Chaser wanted to leave her with her family, or whoever had been taking care of her.
Tyna shrugged. "I donno."
It boggled Chaser's mind that Tyna and Yok were running around the underworld all alone. "Do you live around here, Tyna?" Chaser put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a pat.
"No. I can't remember." Tyna mimicked Chaser, and put her hand on his shoulder and patted it.
Chaser got a beep on his comlink.
>>>>
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 947
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 15:01:27 GMT -8
After eating the CHAMP, Yung wandered into a bar. The bar had a holonet display showing headlines. One of the latest stories: "... Two sought after an Imperial Star Destroyer was bombed earlier today. In a press release, the First Order credited the explosion to a small unnamed extremist group, who they believe planned the acts for two years and carried out the attack. Three ships were used and one managed to escape the system, leading authorities on a hyperspace chase that spanned the length of a major galactic hyperspace route."
The news agency played a cartoon-ish simulated holo-animation of the blast, showing a star destroyer with an explosion flaring out of the hanger bay and growing to blow a freighter-sized chuck out of the bottom of the ship.
Yung was half paying attention at that point. He didn't have strong political beliefs: He just wanted the Empire to leave him alone. He didn't really approve of the attacks though.
"... A pair fled to Coruscant this morning and abandoned their YT-2400 ship, the HOPPER, in orbit over Coruscant..."The Hopper? Yung was suddenly paying attention. Yung knew the empire was after him and Chaser, but a news report? Already? "... They are believed to be at large on Coruscant." Yung took consolation that Coruscant was a very large place. There were probably many wanted criminals here. No one would seriously be looking for them...
[The Holonet flashed a hologram of Chaser.]
"From holorecordings from the Hopper, one of the suspects is Ickard Archauser, alias "Chaser." In addition to charges of terrorism, he was previously wanted for stealing a ship, evading a blockad and deserting the Imperial Navy."
Yung was surprised. He wanted to laugh. Under his breath. "Chaser's real name is Ickard Archauser? Heh heh." It was also a surprise to learn that Chaser joined the Imperial Navy and deserter. But it made sense given Chaser's ability to fly. After all, his skill was able to get them away from Ilum. But wait, he thought, they said 'charges of terrorism.' That can't be right! They didn't blow anything up!
[The Holonet flashed a hologram of Yung.]
A moment later Yung was staring face-to-face with a hologram of himself. In the exact clothing he was currently wearing. His eyes widened in alarm.
"The second suspect is Iman Dong Xijung, alias, Yung. In addition to the charges of terrorism, he was wanted for smuggling, attempted robbery, and petty theft."
Yung suddenly felt very self conscious. He slowly turned around and walked towards the exit. He was counting on the fact that humans seemed to have a difficult time telling Durosians apart, and Coruscant was a predominately human world.
The Holonet news report continued. "The First Order is offering a substantial reward for information on their whereabouts, if it leads to their capture..."
One of the patrons of the bar, an elderly Durosian, was also watching the holonet news. "Hey you, there. You look just like that one Duros on the holothingy." He snorted.
Yung forced a laugh. "Funny one, traveler! Well, I must be going..." He immediately left the bar.
Once in the street, Yung immediately bought a space helmet with a tinted visor. The damn street vendor sensed Yung's alarm and jacked the price up. Yung felt too rushed to haggle and paid almost all his credits for it. He jammed the helmet on his head, and activated the comlink on the helmet. In a strained whisper. "Chaser! Chaser! There was a news report! They are looking for us! They put our pictures out on the news and offered a reward! Someone saw me!"
Chaser's voice come over the comlink and was good to hear. "Where are you? You didn't follow me down?"
"I followed you as low as I could before I had to land. You're lower than me."
"Can you get to the escape pod and go lower?"
"No, I sold mine already to a junk dealer." He heard Chaser sigh. "I'm not sure how to get lower, and I told you, someone in a bar saw me and thought I looked like my hologram on the holonews. I spent nearly all my credits to get a tinted helmet."
"What about selling your Kyber?" Chaser asked.
"Its too dam hot! The News said nothing about Kyber, so that probably means they are still trying to recover it. The police here leak like a sieve, and so I'll bet the rumors are already flying to be on the lookout for guys trying to fence kyber ore."
"Yung... I found a kid that needs help. Where are you?"
I'm..." Yung looked around, "I'm down the street from a big club." Yung walked towards it. "It's called the Outlander Club."
"Hey, Yung, calm down. Go to the Outlander Club. Lay low. I'll lay low until night, and I'll meet you there."
"Ok Sounds like a plan." Yung made for the Outlander Club.
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Dread Lord Havok
The First Order
Posts: 947
Affiliation: Sith, darkside, Adventists of the Eye, Imperial Remnant
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Sept 11, 2020 15:34:43 GMT -8
Chaser looked down at Tyna. "Oh boy." Chaser was a good person. He couldn't just leave her down her. But he also couldn't just go to the authorities. He cursed the fact that he was too hot to waltz into an Imperial precinct right now and ask for social services."Hey, there. Oh, no. It's going to be ok."
Tyna seemed to be shivering as she started going pale from shock.
Chaser looked around in the vain hope that there might be a non-profit do-gooder organization down here that might be able to help... But he knew he had to get her to a higher level in order for him to entertain the idea of leaving her on a stranger's doorstep, It was just too dangerous to leave her down her. There was a greater chance of finding reputable social services on the high levels, and he had to do it, even if she slowed him down.
"Here's the plan, Tyna, we're going to go somewhere else and get you something to eat, and we'll wait. Then we'll meet up with a friend later. Sound good?"
Tyna nodded yes.
He took her by the hand and they left the alley.
>>>
The day passed as they drifted from one dive joint to another, until "night" fell. (All the lamps in the street dimmed.)
>>>>
"All righty, now's the time. Come with me Tyna, lets get you out of here."
With his 50 pound bag of kyber ore strapped to his back, Chaser picked her up and took Tyna with him back to the escape pod.
Chaser got back in the small one-man escape pod. Tyna was small enough, that she could fit by hugging his leg. Chaser stashed the sack of Kyber in the footwell of his other leg. It wouldn't be comfortable for long, but they could endure for a bit. He coaxed the escape pod to life and used the retro-thrusters to climb up the levels to were the Outlander Club could be found.
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Verinoma
Member
Posts: 52 
Affiliation: Dark Tide
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Post by Verinoma on Nov 19, 2020 10:30:59 GMT -8
Verinoma hated the messy, wet laboratory space in the underbelly of such grandiose spires, but it was a place to work. She had grown used to the clean, bright and sterile rooms she had run under the Dark Tide and grumped to herself about the downfall of the empire her former commander had scraped together from the ashes of so many others. She lost her patron, her lab, her unending expense accounts. She lost her safety net and she lost her cover. Sinistra's abrupt disappearance left a vacuum in the leadership of the darkness and now the galaxy was a place Verinoma did not recognize.
It did not matter though.
She turned her attention to the instruments before her, looking down into microscope to see the RNA sequence slipped neatly into the cell on her slide. She would have her revenge. She would be sure of that.The Admiralty OOC
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Post by Torin Vercet on Nov 20, 2020 11:40:44 GMT -8
Torin sat working with the cobbled together DNA sequencer he had managed to get working from an old mass spectrometer. While his master worked on the virus, he was working on a completing a sequence of the Ordinii DNA, isolating everything that would make them genertically unique from others. He was closing in on the specific markers, but given their prevalence in other populations of humans, there was always going to be some collateral damage. Lady Verinoma would care only that it would kill the Ordinii. Torin however believed it would also help mask the targets from the purpose of the virus until it would be too late.
The location didn't bother him as much as it did his master. Torin had grown up in worse places than this old warehouse. In fact, when he had first found it, he had been ecstatic about his luck while Lady Verinonma could only turn up her nose at their good fortune. She was born to privilege he had never known. However, she was a brilliant alchemist and microbiologist. And she could still beat him soundly in a duel.
He bent over his work again, but his mind wandered to their last duel and what he had done wrong to have nearly lost a hand.
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Verinoma
Member
Posts: 52
Affiliation: Dark Tide
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Post by Verinoma on Dec 9, 2020 16:32:23 GMT -8
Verinoma sat back from the microscope, running her eyes with her fingers as she tried to will them to focus. She had been up for, what 36 hours at this point?
Torin had identified 5 different markers that were shared among all related Ordinii that presented the most concentrated pool of potential victims. The markers themselves were trivial, but somewhere in their shared ancestry, a woman had become sick with something that altered her mtDNA and that was all Verinoma needed to get something through that would spell disaster for the barbaric invaders who came to Kuat and decimated her home.
She reached for her caf, the cup now cold to her touch and she blew out a disgusted harumpf. Perhaps she could concentrate better after a nap but at this point, if she closed her eyes, she knew it would be many hours before she rose again.
Kriff it, she needed the rest.
She rose from her bench and walked heavy footed to a cot in the lab and fell into it, sleep claiming her almost at once.
She woke with a start a few hours later, the quiet whir of machines in lab working soothing her as she tried to shake off the nightmare that plagued her since the Battle of Kuat. Her brow was soaked in sweat, her breath coming in pants as she tried to find calm again. She hadn’t had calm in so long she couldn’t remember what life was life without the constant terror and feeling of unease. Even here on Coruscant, she couldn’t escape the thought that at any moment, her world would come crashing down around her again.
Vengeance was a strong motivator and while there were many Mandalorians who were instrumental in the destruction of the Dark Tide, she remembered the armor and sigil of the ones who trampled through her facilities and blew her work up. She remembered the ones who were responsible for her fallen fortunes. They would pay with blood.
She would see to that.
Her nasty, perfect little virus would see to that.
It helped that she started with something that was already lethal. Oh how she loved flaviviruses, well she loved all the ones that caused hemorrhagic fevers but she wanted to be sure she would get her targets. On top of that, as an RNA virus, it was highly susceptible for mutation and she didn’t want it to change to a milder illness before she was sure the Ordinii would die. A touch of modification, just a little something to help alter the lipid coat on the particle. It would just be that much more tailored to them so that the disease would burn through them and they would die feeling like they were on fire inside and weeping bloody tears as they died in bed, not a clean death in battle.
She would bring them low with her creation. All it took now was to nail down the transmission vectors. Toin had been working on that little project, leaving her for stretches of time as he scouted the planets the tin plated maggots had called home. He had taken samples of common pests, and analyzed their ability to carry the virus particle to varying results. Biting insects were going to be the best bet and so he had started to pin down the variety of mosquitos on Mandalore and near the compound with inquiries into research suppliers to get a population of them to work with. Couldn’t have them killing their hosts, now.
Verinoma rose from the cot, her pulse finally not pounding in her head. She strode over to Torin’s workbench, looking over his latest notes from the mosquito experiments. The first trial was a wash. The test subjects had reacted poorly to the change in the lipid coat and there was a mass die off. It had caused her to change 5 months of work but it was worth it if it meant death to her enemies.
Sleep now behind her, she returned to her bench to review the next batch of samples.
She had been working for about half a day when Torin returned from his latest trip to check on the test subjects.
“Well?” she asked, barely pulling back from her notes.
“It worked.” His voice was restrained but she could feel the excitement coming off him in waves.
“Are you sure?” She looked up with dark eyes that landed squarely on him.
“I ran it three times. It works. No mass dieoff, stable lifecycle, and virus transmits to victims as intended.” He held out a tablet for her to look at, his data clearly color coded and labeled on the screen. He had offered shelter to some local homeless and exposed them to the infected mosquitos and then taken blood samples to test for viral load. They all had antibodies to the virus and only 1 in 30 had fallen ill. The unfortunate fellow shared a marker with the Ordinii clan. His death was a bloody mess, as he wept tears of red at the pain and fever ravishing his body. Torin had burned the corpse in the building incinerator.
Everything looked good.
It was time to put her plan into motion. All these long months had turned into years and now, finally she would know revenge.
“How do we get the virus to Mandalore?”
“That’s the last piece. I think we can smuggle it there as medical supplies. From there, I can trap some specimens and release them once we have infected them. It’ll take some time for the transmission to the Mandalorians to take hold. There are some pest control outfits around the cities, and it would make sense to take a job with one of them to put me in proximity to the targets and to ensure we have proper transmission. From there, if we need to change the plan, I am already embedded there.”
Verinoma nodded.
“So be it. Do not fail me.”
She returned to her stool, her work on her contingency plan continuing. This virus was far more deadly but still had not been refined to target the specific biological traits that made the Ordinii what they were. She pinched the bridge of her nose to help her focus then bent over the microscope.
Torin watched her for a moment, then set his tablet down.
“Master, you do not seem to be happy with the progress.”
“There are a lot of variables and this plan depends heavily on you succeeding. You have my every faith but I want to be sure they die screaming.”
“Master, I-”
“Torin, get ready to leave. I will make the arrangements to send you the virus when it is time. You will need to be sure that you are in place to release it when I say.”
Dismissed, he turned and headed for the rathole he had been using as an apartment. She had not lied to him, she would send him the virus when it was time, but it was not going to be the one that he had been testing. She had decided after her latest bout of insomnia and nightmares that they would be getting a nastier cousin of the one Torin had tested. Yes, they would pay for her trauma with flesh and blood as they liquified from the inside out. She would make this filovirus work. The negative RNA strand would replicate into plenty of positive RNA particles and it would burn through them like a wildfire. Verinoma would pull no punches with her enemy. But she needed Torin gone to work on the virus. It was going to kill more people than the flavivirus, but now she didn’t care. Torin was human, he was susceptible to the biohazard on her microscope but Twi’lek did not get the same illness from it that he would. It would kill him. She would barely have a fever. It just needed a little tweak to the lipid coat to seal it until it read a protein on the mitochondrial wall. Then it would be over.
She toiled on the new virus for months, ignoring Torin’s messages, ignoring nearly everything except the hatred in her heart and the tests she performed.
Nothing she tried could alter the filovirus from being less lethal from the broadly infectious strain that was common in undercooked jungle meat. After yet another test failed with the specimen expiring before person to person transmission, she could feel the breath of her father on her neck again, calling her a foolish child, mocking her efforts.
Her insomnia had only gotten worse and her dreams more frantic, her father now in them, his light armor replaced by the armor of the Ordinii, and Verinoma woke up screaming, his laughter ringing in her head.
If biology would not deliver her justice upon her enemies, then it was time for more drastic measures. Yes. It was time to get her hands bloody.
The ritual should be easy enough to assemble, her mind running over the ingredients she would need to bind the virus to the Ordinii DNA. It would be a simple matter to perform, and for a moment Verinoma had a faint understanding of how unhinged the culmination of this pursuit had made her but there was nothing left for her. Only her hatred. Only her revenge.
Her voice was strong as she raised the power within the sigiled circle and through her hands focused it, bending the Force to her will, she bound the virus to the precious sample of of her enemy, chanting her desires as she directed the energy to alter the lipid coat, swapping out amino acid chains to force her way upon the natural world.
She fell to her knees in a circle of dried blood and dead candles, a strange luminous quality now attached to the virus samples. It had worked, she knew it had. She had made it work. Alchemy was nothing more than the domination of nature by the will of the caster and now she would show her invaders how strong her will truly was.
With the new virus safely stored, Verinoma prepared the false shipment to be delivered to a dead drop where Torin would receive it.
Now. Now it was time.
Verinoma began to laugh.
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Aria
Member
Posts: 28
Affiliation: None
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Aria on Jan 13, 2021 20:09:18 GMT -8
Aria and her porax 38 made their way through the crowded upper city into the underworld. The unique him of her ships twin engines echoed through corridors and over the heads of casual passersby as she made her way deeper into its core. As the population dwindled she came up to a large shift; large enough in diameter that large freighters could easily maneuver within it. There a small ledge stood alone in the darkness; just a fee anti collision lights lined its edge.
She quickly entered a code on her control panel and large hangar doors began to open. The doors still in their opening cycle as her ship creeped in, then closed behind her. The hangar was large, dimly light to her taste. Her P38 touched down cleanly into the shadow of another ship, an X 70 phantom. Her ship powering down; she slid out of the cockpit and dusted herself off. Aria looked around at the hangar. Old banners with the Therian seal hung from the rafters. The dim light highlighted the X 70 in a mysterious way. The phantom had become her new home. Its luxurious interior helped remind her of who she once was; the hangar a stark contrast of who she is now.
She sighed as her gaze leveled down to a make shift wet bar in one of the back corners. The hangar had enough commodities to serve as a home itself. Aria sat down at the bar and poured herself a glass of ale; taking it slowly and considering her recent conversations and the hunt. Her next stop would take her to Myrkr of all places, though she needed a break herself. Her gaze shifting to her X70. The ship once belonging to her father. A private yacht. She did well to keep it in perfect condition.
For now though she drank and consider her next moves while catching herself starting to fall asleep. She stoop up, putting the glass of ale down and meandering across the hangar floor to a small living quarters. She plopped down on the couch, activated the holonet. There was rarely ever anyone worth watching anymore, but it served as background noise. Sue stretched out. Laying down against one of the couches arms; her arms crossed behind her head like a pilow until she drifted to sleep.
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Aria
Member
Posts: 28
Affiliation: None
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Aria on Jan 26, 2021 12:41:10 GMT -8
Aria slowly woke from her impromptu nap. She sat up; a bottle of alcohol on her hand and two more on the floor. The blue glow of the holonet still running. She shook her head and starred at the bottle in her hand. A sudden rush of anger came over her as she threw the bottle against the wall. Anyone with a capacity of sensing the force would feel the darkness and rage radiating from her.
An empress reduced to a drunk. This was her life now and she knew something had to change. Only her brothers death would bring her peace. Her anger shifted into a hatred determination. She stood and walked into the main hangar area of her underground dwelling. The dim lights casting shadows yet revealing her X-70B phantom. The ramp lowered as she passed from slum to the luxurious yet sith interior.
The ships cockpit responded to her presence; systems starting and the hum of the engines echoed. Hangar doors opened just enough for the ship to take off relatively undetected. Making its way through the underground corridors and then breaking into the upper levels, the atmosphere and into space. Hyper drives powered up and the ship was off to its next destination.
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Mórrígan Dubh
Member
Posts: 680
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna – Warriors of the Iron Fists
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 5, 2021 14:02:03 GMT -8
*The sprawling cityscape of Couruscant was a festering cesspool, teaming with sum of all order. And as consequence, An Tiarna Dunn had always been right at home in the city. Indeed, the Old man had great stakes on these mean streets. And Morrigan was more than familiar with this business. More importantly, she worked directly with the crime bosses ofCouruscant. She was respected and indeed she was feared. The reappearance of her influence was rumoured but held as a confirmed fact only among several key contacts*
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Post by Kaern Stormrunner on Jun 10, 2021 11:18:35 GMT -8
Coruscant's Underworld was vast beyond comprehension - as levels of the planet stretched far deeper than most of the crystal towers which sat upon the city planet's surface. In these winding avenues and alleys- all of which were covered in the debris of wars past and squalor present- a visitor would understand the true magnitude of Coruscant's scale. Tucked within the recesses of the Galactic Center aliens of all shapes, sizes and life paths walked and brushed shoulders with one another.
It was here where Kaern found himself on most evenings, though at first glance none would guess it. He stood out like a sore thumb - a handsome man in his 30s, clad in robes that were indicative of someone too manicured for this place- his raven black hair was neatly combed back away from his forehead, allowing his chiseled jaw, sharp grey eyes and strong chin to stand out prominently. Some would mistake him for an easy target in the seedy underworld, yet most knew him by reputation alone. Any attempts to harass the Jedi were stopped before they could begin with the simple warning: "Don't mess with that Jedi". While most would use this status as a point of pride, Kaern was simply grateful that he could go about his work unimpeded. As a sentinel of the Jedi Order, Kaern was burdened with the task of investigating disturbances that fell outside of the traditional Jedi purview - disturbances that required a unique perspective and handling. It was one such disturbance that brought the man here.
He was not alone during this particular endeavor today; accompanying by his newly appointed apprentice, Marius Vectus -a young jedi which was probably the greenest being on this entire level of the Underworld- Kaern found himself more vigilant than usual. While most knew of him by reputation and gave him a wide birth, they would probably eat his apprentice alive given the chance. Kaern made a mental note to keep a close eye on the young one. Marius was a young adult human, no older than 20, and while Kaern did not have a stoic appearance, he carried an air of wisdom in his posture that his apprentice severely lacked. Marius' eyes were wide since they exited their shuttle on this level, with a combination of curiosity, shock and mild fear. The boy had not grown out of his baby fat yet, with a round smooth face, delicate blue eyes, unkempt blonde hair adorned with the signature braid of an apprentice, Marius exuded an innocence that overrode the conventional intimidation of a jedi - thugs would see him as a child before they saw him as a Jedi. The two made their way down a broad promenade, flanked by bold neon holo-projections advertising various businesses of a questionably risque predilections.
Upon passing one particular establishment, with several young scantly clad twi'lek and zabrak women congregating near the entrance, Kaern noticed his apprentice lagging behind. He reached over with a firm hand, clasping Marius on the shoulder before pulling him back into stride.
"I don't recommend letting your eyes wander too long - they may charge you for that."
The sentinel noticed the shocked expression on the young man's face, followed almost immediately by the downward glance of shame. Kaern chuckled, releasing the boy's shoulder before patting him lightly.
"Relax Marius, I won't let them eat you alive. But you cannot be distracted down here - keep your mind on the mission."
The boy let out a bashful smile and chuckle, before giving his master a nod.
=Marius=
"Forgive me master - I have never ventured to these levels before...there are so many things that are foreign to me." He took pause, looking at their surroundings before turning his attention to Kaern. "Master, why are we down here anyway - this seems to be a mission for C.S.F, not the jedi."
Kaern let out a low chuckle, before turning his attention forward as they walked towards a T-junction. This junction was where the promenade met a wide speeder causeway, and was capped by a grandiose building. The building's fascade stood out in comparison to its surroundings. While the surrounding buildings all boasted bright neon holos, they were dilapidated, with missing metal plates on the walls, and viewports which lined with grime- the other building, however, was pristine, constructed of duracrete with neon lined trimmings and geometric engravings. It appeared to be newly constructed amidst a decaying city. Kaern, however, knew this was not the case - the establishment was simply owned by a man that cared very much for appearances. Tulos Carrion, a once multi-trillion dollar intergalactic exec who broke bad after associating with the losers of a massive galactic war.
Few probably took the time to assess the architectural intricacies of the building, as the massive glowing aurebesh script above the main entrance was the first thing to catch most wandering eyes. It read 'Equinox Gentlemen's Lounge'. Directly beneath it stretched a large overhang that covered a valet speeder section, wrapped by a wide, manicured walkway. Security was heavy at the door - and the crowd control of the area contrasted starkly against its surroundings. Kaern did not slow his stride as he and Marius closed the distance between themselves and the entrance.
"Corsec couldn't access this building without inciting a riot - but that is not why we are investigating. Rumor has it that a major black market auction is taking place, and we have reason to believe that Sith artifacts are on the block...that is why we are here."
As they neared the establishment, Kaern suddenly took a sharp left at the T-junction, walking away from the front entrance. Marius gave his master a quizzical glance, but knew better than to question his methods at this point. They walked for Two more minutes before crossing the speeder avenue via a pedestrian bridge. As they crossed the bustling avenue all sound was muffled by the constant gusts of displaced air as speeders flew around the bridge. The noise did not bother Kaern, though Marius' discomfort was clearly visible. The boy would have to get used to the chaos if he was to be a sentinel. Upon reaching the end of the bridge, the two walked towards the main entrance once more - but stopped short, stepping into the shadows of an alleyway parallel to the massive building. The walls muffled the sounds of the chaos, allowing them to hear their own footsteps and little else. Kaern silently moved forward, scanning the area with the force. He noticed a discernable darkness emanating from the interior of the building - but it was a den of vice, and such darkness could not be confirmed as Sith artifacts.
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Post by Samson "Reaper" Ordo on Jun 17, 2021 6:56:36 GMT -8
Neon and technicolor holo-displays were all the naked eye could see, and would easily be enough to distract most men, but not Samson. Their glamor was lost on him. It was not due to him being a stoic professional, which he was, nor due to his genuine disinterest in vices of the flesh - no, the only reason Samson was not distracted by the lights and displays was because his HUD automatically dampened their brilliance and vibrancy. While others in his position, riding in a speeder down the main avenue on level 1174 (aptly named the Vice Enclave Corridor), would have been awe-struck by the various advertisements, banners and brilliant light shows, Samson only saw a shadow of that beauty. Even so, Samson's helmet did more than just block out the brilliance of the displays surrounding him - thanks to various high powered optical processors, he could see every seedy alley way and side street that would be shrouded to the naked eye. This was where the mercenary directed his attention as he made his way to his post, as he mapped choke points, escape routes and prime ambush kill boxes.
Samson mused at the though of the pedestrians faces as he arrived. While most expected a VIP to have hired muscle, in a venue such as the Equinox, most patrons kept their muscle either discreet, or far away as to not sully their image. This lounge was where the richest of the rich would sneak away from the glamor of the surface to play in the mud with their friends with little to no consequence to their public image - after all, what happened here stayed here. Samson's client, however, did not seem to care much for subtlety - given the clients nervous disposition, this must have been his first foray into Coruscant's under belly, and as such, he hired the biggest, scariest muscle he could find. Samson Ordo, the Reaper, a Mandalorian juggernaut of armor and armaments - the polar opposite of discrete.
For a passing moment, Samson lamented his past life, where he took jobs that actually challenged him and paid through the nose - but ever since his crew disbanded, he took any work he could get, as long as the client met his steep price tag. After all, a mercenary couldn't fill his belly on pride and stories.
The speeder dipped several meters as it made its final descent towards the Equinox, driving past the main entrance and into a secured garage where V.I.Ps and their security could disembark away from prying eyes. As the speeder slowed to a halt, Samson opened the door, being the first to exit the vehicle. Even though he was in a garage of a high end lounge, he exited with the professionalism of a soldier, a habit that was beaten into him through years of training (years which he ironically could not remember, yet the actions came to him as a second nature, and were methodical in a way that indicated formal training). Sweeping the room, his HUD switched through various scanners before returning to normal. He gestured from his client to disembark.
"You are clear, sir."
The nervous client, a bumbling Neimoidian from the Bankers Guild, stepped off of the vessel, walking to his side. He looked up at Samson, who was clad in his customized beskar'gam power armor. If someone saw them, it would be an odd sight as the timid Neimoidian was clad in elegant robes, while the mercenary next to him was in armor that made him appear more machine than man. The client let out a nervous chuckle as the valet and an entourage of helpers approached them.
= Client =
"Lets hope that armor is for more than just show."
The Mandalorian ignored the comment, turning his attention to the approaching party. Samson had them all identified and checked for weapons without moving a muscle. While he did not approve of the job he found himself in, he still took it seriously. As the attendants greeted his client, Samson stood in silence, before the client waved for him to follow. Together the entourage entered the facility with Samson and his client in tow.
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Tulos Carrion
Member
Posts: 1 
Affiliation: To the Highest Bidder
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Tulos Carrion on Jul 2, 2021 5:31:09 GMT -8
Ah, tonight was going to be a good night. Tulos could smell it in the air - hidden amidst the wafts of exhaust and excrement that often polluted the heavy air in the under world. Taking a bold, deep breath that would make others of a weaker constitution positively ill, Tulos smiled as he relished in his own brilliance. There he stood, looking out from his office's Juliette balcony which faced the bustling avenues of this level. For the first time in a long time- since his old employer unceremoniously ended their relationship- Tulos felt excited for what the night would bring.
There were a few speeders travelling slowly enough to get a good look at Tulos, and given the stares, he knew they found him to be quite handsome. His raven black hair was swept back, and combed neatly to a uniformed smoothness. His eyes were a vibrant shade that danced between green and amber depending on the lighting. He was cleanly shaven, allowing his sharp features to be more pronounced. Clad in a simple white button up shirt, and black slacks, he did appear a bit out of place when compared to his ornate surroundings, yet that seemed to add an element of charm to the man. He did not have to flaunt that he was the king of this castle. He made it a point to be discrete in letting the Coruscanti discover that for themselves. And that discretion paid off as he noticed how many people were flocking towards his building for tonight's event.
This auction had taken months to prepare, and countless resources - greasing the right palms, paying the right gangs, and flattering the right aristocrats. Tulos always had a gift for gab, however this particular venture had tested the very limits of his silver tongue, yet finally it was all coming together. This was going to be his magnum opus - a way for him to return to his previous renown and perhaps even surpass it.
Ever since Halocroft Industries went tits up with the sudden disappearance of its patriarch (which subsequently left Tulos holding the bag when the New Imperials shut them down), Tulos had gone from a legendary business magnate to a shadow of his former glory. That would all change today - thanks to this not so little auction. Tulos was nothing if not resourceful, and in the chaos of his company's downfall, he managed to make away with an amassed fortune in both financial assets as well as liquid assets. It was these liquid assets that he was going to sell tonight - things that he managed to secure during Byss' tumultuous take over. He had all things ranging from Dark Tide and I.F military hardware, to ancient treasures of the sith stashed away by his previous employer. They were priceless - which was part of the reason why it took so long to arrange this auction.
Had he tried to sell the assets immediately after the Dark Tide's dissolution, he would risk detection from sympathizers, as well as clients being frightful of the reputation which the original owners held. No one would want to buy Darth Nexus' personal journals with the risk of the Sith lord showing up at their door step to collect what was his. It had been years, no, decades, since anyone heard from most of the Dark Tide or the Warriors of the Iron Fist - they were known by stories and myths now. And myths with a dark history sold far easier than first hand accounts of genocide and war crimes.
All good things come for those who wait. And Tulos' time had come.
Unable to hide his proud smirk, he turned away from his balcony, taking a seat at his grand desk, basking in his own glory. But he did not get to savor this for long, as suddenly the double doors that led into his office swung open, and his secretary entered the room with a data pad in hand. The young human woman was easy on the eyes, with a heart shaped face, flowing brown hair, and full lips, all of which complimented her figure. Tulos had worked with her for some time, and while they were never romantic, he definitely was guilty of watching her for longer than what would be considered professional. She never complained to him however, and was always direct and professional - that was why he kept her, or at least that was what he told himself.
"Good evening sir, guests have begun to arrive. I suggest that you go out to meet them before the auction starts."
Tulos was half tempted to ignore his secretary all together, just to bask in his own glory for a little bit longer, but decided against it. He knew that she was right, he had to give his guests a show. It was all a part of the art of selling. And plus, He couldn't resist the praise he was going to receive - and why should he, after all the work he put in. Tulos looked up at the secretary, giving him a nod before rising to his feet.
"Very well, I will get changed into something more appropriate and be out shortly."
The secretary gave him a short bow, before turning and making his way out of the room. Tulos watches as the doors closed behind him, waiting for a few moments before making his way to the refresher to get ready.
A few minutes later, he emerged a changed man. Clad in a finely tailored suit - one which he had not worn since his time on Byss, he was ready to make an impression. The robes were from Naboo's Royal district in Theed - and were fit for a prince. The finest verdant-green silks composed the majority of these robes, along with high end dark leather and gold trims. This was a stark contrast to what he was wearing moments before - but he had to dress for the part. He was putting on a show after all.
After quickly examining his attire for any imperfections, Tulos made his way out of the double doors of his office - passing through the reception and out onto the lobby of his establishment, making it a point to interact with the clientele. He shook hands, bought patrons drinks, and made a few sour faced bothans crack a smile - all the while keeping a close eye on his security for any signs of disruption.
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Malakaii Fett
Member
Posts: 9
Affiliation: Clan Australis
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Malakaii Fett on Jul 7, 2021 10:15:28 GMT -8
Coruscant, even within the Sublevels, had an awe-inspiring grandeur about it - while most would presume this world to feel crowded and claustrophobic, that was rarely the case after one got over the shock of the scale of everything. That could not be said for the utility shaft that Malakaii and his squad found themselves in, however. Nestled directly beneath their target, the 6 men, Malakaii included, often found themselves pressed against the other as though they were a young budding couple. Their current position was in a particularly tight chamber, where only four men could stand - leaving two outside to enjoying the lovely view of a maintenance corridor. The discomfort of his current position did not distract Malakaii from his objective, as the man waited patiently for his colleague Finnbar to splice into the utility hatch that stood between them, and their destination.
The men were careful to disable security protocols in the surrounding tunnels, allowing for them to pass through without setting alarm, though once the final utility hatch was unlocked, there would be no further need for secrecy. That thought was the only thing that granted Malakaii some semblance of peace. The thought of peoples expressions when they saw 6 armored mandalorians breach the room with lethal efficiency. It brought a smile to his lips, though no one could see it behind his buy'ce. All stood in silence as Finnbar worked, but Malakaii could taste the tension in the air. They had been working on this plan for six weeks now - and the slightest mistake would ruin everything they had worked for up to this point.
They had arrived on Courscant with a single objective, to break into the auction and grab several items of interest. It sounded simple on paper, but it required masterful execution - that was why Malakaii arranged to have several of Clan Australis' best commandos accompany him on the mission. Kaine didn't hesitate to provide support - probably because he knew that the rewards far outweighed the risks. He knew that this meant that he would owe his vod a hefty favor, but Malakaii was willing to pay that cost. Kaine had set them up with an apartment and a few key underworld connections, but past that, Malakaii had to pull his own weight. Thankfully the men Kaine had sent were invaluable when it came to executing the tasks required to get them this far.
Finnbar managed to splice into a central database of Coruscant's primary contractor for maintenance in the lower levels, which allowed them to map a direct route to their target away from prying eyes. Jago had managed to find the central hub for the droids in the area and disabled it with a handy virus Maldar had created - ensuring that they would not have unwelcomed guests enroute. Feduc managed to scope out the target area and gave them a detailed schedule for the guards, though given the circumstances, that was a frame work to follow versus a rigid schedule - even so his reconnaissance helped them from going in blind. The only one who had not yet been called upon was Vallen, but he was Malakaii's wing man - when the fighting started, that was both of their times to shine.
No one spoke when Finnbar was working - but the silence that preceeded the audible whine and click made it that much more prominent. Finnbar looked back at the rest of the men, giving them a nod for affirmation.
We are in. Move forward.
The four men entered first, fanning out as they entered a utility room for the Equinox - as soon as the hatch opened, the muffled sound of music above filled the room. The squad moved forward, slowly, but steadily, sweeping for any unexpected security, though according to Feduc, there were no cameras or patrols on this level. After a moment, Malakaii announced over secured comms.
Sector is clear, Maldar, stay here and secure our exfil site - if we need extra fire power I will call you. The rest of you, on me.
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